#please do not explain Enjolras and killing to me

[breadvidence]

Modern AU woes. Intending to murder Javert was the most fun Enjolras had at the barricade and I'm just gonna take that away from him and his pals.

#liveblogging from the writing trenches #this is tongue in cheek #please do not explain Enjolras and killing to me #he obeys necessity he judges himself he condemns himself etc. #I may be lame enough on Amis that I always ask “who the fuck is Bossuet?” #but I am not so lame I dodged the profound ambivalence about killing

[lenathesingingcat]

My canon-era ExR story for day 19 of @themiserablesmonth and the prompt “Reincarnation”! This one’s for the people who like to draw parallels between Les Misérables and mythology! (I’m not an expert on mythology, I just know the basic story, so please forgive any inaccuracies.) TW: character death.

I’ve Loved You Before

Grantaire looked up as Enjolras approached the table he was sat at. He had long since given up hope of getting Enjolras’s attention, at least for anything good. He must be coming over to speak to one of the others -

“Grantaire. Could I speak to you?”

“Come to tell me some more reasons why I will never be a valuable part of the revolution?” Grantaire tried to pass this off as a joke.

“No. Nothing like that. I have been unfair to you, and I want to explain why.” When Grantaire motioned for him to continue, Enjolras shook his head and added, “Privately.”

Grantaire stood up and followed Enjolras to a private room in the café. “I don’t see why it has to be private…”

“We’ve been together before, a long time ago. In a past life. We were lovers.” Enjolras paused. “I know it’s a lot to take in…”

“How…? Why… why would you have chosen to be with me?”

“That’s your big question? Not what happened to us, or anything like that?”

Grantaire shrugged. “Alright, what happened to us?”

Enjolras seemed close to tears at the mere memory. “You… you were killed.” he managed to say after a few moments. “You followed me to war just because you loved me. If we hadn’t been together, you might have lived…”

“And what about you? What happened to you?”

Enjolras smiled fondly. “Of course you would ask that. You’ve always cared so much… It broke me. Losing you broke me. I ran into battle, half crazy with grief. I managed to kill your killer before I was killed too…”

Grantaire took out a book of legends and flipped to a page with a picture. “That’s us?” he asked.

“That’s us.” Enjolras confirmed.

Grantaire looked at the picture for a few moments. Was he going crazy, or did they really look like him and Enjolras…?

Enjolras continued. “That’s why I don’t want you here. This revolution is going to be just as dangerous as Troy. I lost you once, and I will not lose you again! Grantaire, don’t fall in love with me this time.”

I should have known, Grantaire thought. Him and Enjolras as lovers? It had been far too good to be true.

“Is this how you reject everyone who falls in love with you? Give them some story about how you don’t want them dying for you again?” Grantaire laughed humourlessly, mostly to stop himself from crying. “Or is it just me you’ve tried this with? You thought I was stupid enough to believe whatever you made up?”

“I didn’t make anything up - ”

“No, you didn’t. You used the story of a legend - ”

“Do you really not remember?” Enjolras asked.

“I remember reading it.” Grantaire said.

“I remembered everything the moment you first walked into the café. I remembered loving you, and I remembered losing you. I’m not asking you to leave Les Amis, I’m only asking you not to fight. And I know you! If you fall in love with me again, you’ll fight for me again!”

“I’m already in love with you.”

Enjolras just stared at him in surprise. Then he asked, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why do you think I come to these meetings?”

“I knew it!” Enjolras cried out in frustration. “You come to these meetings because of me, you’re going to fight again, I know you are, and maybe even die again, because of me!”

“You can hardly ask me to stay safe while you go and risk your life! I can’t… I can’t be without you. I’m in love with you.” Grantaire said. “Let’s say for a moment that you’re telling the truth.”

“I am telling the truth!”

“Whatever. Do you want me to go through what you went through?”

Enjolras was quiet for a moment, before saying, “It’s not the same.”

“How is it not the same?”

“Because whatever happens to me happens because of my own beliefs and convictions. If you follow me again, then whatever happens to you is because of me. I won’t be able to live with that.” He sighed. “Just… just don’t put yourself in any danger. Especially not for me.”

He left, leaving Grantaire confused. Surely it could be true. …But could it be?

—————

Grantaire read the story again that night. It was strange how much the tragic love story resonated with him. How much it always had.

Could it be because - no, surely not.

—————

It was only a few weeks later that he remembered everything. He hadn’t been able to do what Enjolras had asked of him, hadn’t been able to stay away from the barricade. Enjolras had been right, of course - Grantaire couldn’t keep himself safe after falling in love with Enjolras.

Their hands clasped together, Grantaire suddenly remembered how this felt. Knowing he was loved in return. He wished he could let Enjolras know that he remembered.

Enjolras knew. He could feel it in the way Grantaire was holding his hand, he knew him well enough to be able to tell.

Once the shots had been fired, Grantaire heard Enjolras say, too quietly for anyone else to hear but just loud enough for him, “At least this time I won’t have to be without you…” as everything faded.

And he was more right in that than he knew. An afterlife awaited them, and neither would have to be without each other ever again.

#enjoltaire #exr #grantaire #enjolras #the miserable(s) month

[reddeadrevolutionn]

cartwheels in !! could we get some grantaire x enj's sister!reader?

This is literally amazing. I went with Canon Also!era for this :) Also I decided to go with a secret!relationship ending up exposed 🙈 also I don't write imagines too often so hopefully this is okay xxx

Oof this turned out a lot longer than expected! And I'm on mobile so I can't add a keep reading button sry :/

"Taire, get off!" You giggle, attempting to wiggle out of his grasp. He had his arms around your waist whilst he stood behind you, and his face was buried in your neck, playfully kissing it.

"I cannot help it, mademoiselle, you are too irresistible to me," he grins into your neck, tightening his grip on you so you can't get away.

You eventually give up on the struggle and lean into his grasp, a small smile on your lips "the meeting will be starting soon,"

"So?"

"So my brother will be here any minute. This is not what he needs- not this close to the Revolution,"

A sigh escapes his mouth, tickling your neck, and he lets go, turning you around and pressing a kiss to your mouth "very well, mon cher, I shall keep my hands to myself, if it pleases you." He winked "although it will be a difficult task for me,"

You playfully scoff and give him a chaste kiss "hush now, you fool. Now sit before my brother sees us. I ought to go and meet him, it will be less suspicious if we are not alone."

Before he could respond, however, a familiar voice comes from the doorway "Y/N?"

You spin around, your eyes wide. You feel R tense beside you. Enjolras was standing in the doorway, Feuilly behind him, "b-brother. I did not expect you here yet..."

A distasteful look makes its way onto his marble face "you did not meet me at the corner, I assumed you had came inside already," he sneered "clearly you had."

You spot Feuilly turn and make his way down the stairs, ushering a peeping Courfeyrac and a confused Bahorel down the stairs. "I saw a dark cloud. I assumed it would rain..."

After a brief moment of silence, Grantaire steps forward "Enjolras, if I may-"

"No, Monsieur Grantaire, you may not." He frowned "you may, however, excuse me and my sister whilst we have a conversation. Tell Combeferre to keep people occupied for a short while."

Grantaire looks skeptically before sighing and making his way downstairs to the rest of the group.

"Brother, if you would just allow me to explain-"

He holds up a hand, stopping you "no. I do not wish for an explanation as to why you and Grantaire were..." he sighs "I do wish to know why you would do this."

He grips your arm and pulls you away from the door, lest anyone hear, and continues speaking "I am confused as to your actions. I allow you to attend these meetings because you begged me to permit your presence. Do you not recall when you first joined that we made a deal- a deal where you would not become romantically involved with any of them for the sake of the cause?"

Of course you remember. He had practically made it his life mission to prevent you from becoming involved with a member of les amis. He was worried that your relationship would jeopardise yours, or the man's core belief in the Revolution. He was worried it would take away focus, and for Enjolras, that was the worst thing to do.

"I do- Enj, I do. But-"

"You do. So I let you in, allow you to see our plans, allow you to meet my friends and you repay me by throwing yourself at Grantaire like-" his voice had risen, but at the next bit he speaks in a hushed tone, "like a common whore." Another pause "do you have any idea what this could do for the cause?"

You glare and him and wrench your arm from his grip, raising your voice "screw the cause!"

He looks at you in disbelief "you would risk it- you would abandon your beliefs for...him?"

"I am abandoning no beliefs! Can it not simply be that I am adding my belief in love? Grantaire is- he allows me to be myself, and not have to put on the silly facade that you and society wish for me to! Just because you do not wish for me to fall in love doesn't mean I cannot!"

He runs a hand over his face "it is not that I do not wish for you to fall in love- it is that I do not wish for you to fall in love with anyone who is present at these meetings! It is not fair. To you, or to them." He sighs "you will not be at the barricades, Y/N. So I do not wish for someone to have to possibly deliver the news to that he has been killed. You could not survive it!"

"I could survive it just fine! What is not fair is you deciding whom I can love and who can love me. Grantaire is-"

"A fool. A drunkard. Not a secure man for you to spend your life with,"

"No. He is funny, and kind, and strong. He is so much more than the alcohol you see. And it seems that all you choose to see is that,"

"It is not all I choose to see. It is all I can see,"

"Then is it not a good job that I can see beyond that. Do you not see that he has lessend his habit? Do you not see he tries? Do you not see he loves and cares for me." You sigh "I love him, Enjolras. That should end this conversation."

Before a response could be made, the door opened slightly more and in stepped Grantaire.

"I just thought that I may be of some help and perhaps offer you some reassurance, Monsieur," he said

Enjolras raised an eyebrow "reassurance?"

"Oui. I do not want you to believe that I am using your sister. I love her- I have loved her for many years. And I swore to her that I would do my utmost to provide for her- and I believe I can."

A slight satisfied expression flashes across his face before he clears his throat and folds his arms "were you ever going to tell me?"

You step closer to your brother, taking his hand in yours "of course. I just- we just thought it better to wait so you would not have this too on your mind. You are too busy to have to stress about another, small thing."

"I understand," he looked to R "I will allow this- if you give me your word you will never hurt her?"

"I never will." He reassured

"Very well. Go and fetch Combeferre, tell him we shall start the meeting now." He nodded to the door, telling Grantaire to fetch the guide.

Once R had left you turned to Enjolras with a small smile "thank you, Enj...truly." you embrace him "Je T'aime."

"Et Je t'aime, Y/N."

#lesmiserables #les amis de l'abc #les amis #les mis #les miserables #les misérables #grantaire #Grantaire x reader #enjolras x sister!reader

[kjack89]

For the prompts for 300 fics, some kind of angst and reconciliation fic? I know that’s vague but I’m in the mood for some angst with a happy (or not!) ending, and you’re my go to for that :)

Angst with an optional happy ending? Nonny, you know me too well.

This is part 1 of what will be either multi-chaptered or just longer once I get it on AO3, so at the moment we’re just dealing with some light angst, and who doesn’t love that on a Saturday night. Hopefully the second part will be posted in a few days.

E/R, modern AU. Former relationship.

Enjolras pulled his hood even tighter over his blond curls and glanced over his shoulder before reaching up to feel for the key hidden on top of the door jamb. He was surprised, and more than a little concerned, when his fingers touched nothing but very dusty wood, and he chanced another glance over his shoulder before rapping lightly on the door.

The door opened no more than an inch. “Password,” a gruff voice barked, and Enjolras sighed.

He really should’ve known.

“Grantaire, if you don’t let me in, I will break down the door and use one of the splintered pieces of wood to kill you,” he said, as patiently and politely as he could, just in case someone was listening.

Grantaire opened the door enough to admit him, closing it after him and locking the doorknob lock and deadbolt before sliding the chain into place. “Firstly, I’d like to see you try,” he said with a grin that Enjolras did not return. “Secondly, for future reference, the password we were looking for was ‘my full glass’, with a security question of ‘what do I believe in?’.”

Enjolras tugged off his hoodie and balled it up before tossing it onto the couch, one of the few pieces of furniture in the tiny, cramped apartment. “Would you also have accepted ‘nothing’?” he asked waspishly.

“No, but I would’ve accepted ‘absolutely fucking nothing’,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “Adjectives matter.” His smile faded when he caught sight of the shiner beginning to darken around Enjolras’s left eye. “What happened?”

“Same thing that always happens,” Enjolras said.

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “Meaning you have other, less visible injuries that you’re not going to do anything about until it’s too late to keep them from getting worse?” he asked dryly

Enjolras rolled his eyes and dug his phone out of his pocket to send a quick text. “What are you even doing here?” he asked, purposefully ignoring Grantaire’s question.

He didn’t see the look Grantaire gave him, but he could hear it plainly enough in his voice. “It’s a safe house,” he said. “I think that’s somewhat self-explanatory.”

“No, I mean—” Enjolras did glance up then, to examine Grantaire for an impatient second before telling him, “I didn’t even see you at the protest.”

Grantaire shrugged. “I’m pretty sure we can charitably refer to that as a riot,” he said.

Enjolras rolled his eyes and looked back down at his phone, which he powered off before disassembling it to remove the SIM card. “Whatever nomenclature you want to give it aside—”

“Speaking of nomenclatures,” Grantaire interrupted, “can we talk about how we’re referring to this as a safe ‘house’?” He flopped down on the couch. “This is a safe studio apartment. And I’m being generous with the term ‘studio’.”

“It’s illegal,” Enjolras informed him without looking up from his phone.

“Well no shit, this place is just plain criminal.”

Enjolras tucked his SIM card in his wallet before setting his phone down on the coffeetable. “No, I mean it was illegally built. It won’t show up on any building schematics or floorplans.”

Grantaire blinked. “Meaning…?”

“Meaning as long as you and I are in here, we don’t exist.”

Understanding flitted across Grantaire’s face. “I can see how that would have its advantages,” he murmured before glancing up at Enjolras. “Speaking of, how long do you think you and I will be staying in this lovely 250 square foot box?”

Enjolras shrugged, going to pour himself a glass of water from the tap in the corner of the apartment designated as the kitchen. “Hard to say,” he said, carrying the water over to the coffeetable and hesitating for only a moment before dropping his cellphone into it. He looked at Grantaire. “I assume you took care of any of your electronics with a GPS signal?”

“Yeah, but unlike you, seeing as how I don’t have the disposable income to just buy a new iPhone after every riot, I just left mine at home.”

“I don’t buy a new phone after every riot,” Enjolras muttered, feeling his ears burning red, and he sat down on the futon with a huff. “Only ones that ended badly and with potential criminal charges.”

“So...every riot.”

“I certainly hope you find yourself amusing enough to get through the next few days,” Enjolras said sourly. “Because we’re going to be here awhile.”

Grantaire groaned and tipped his head back to rest it against the back of the couch. “What did you do this time?” he asked, sounding resigned. “Molotov cocktail? Improvised incendiary device?” He turned his head to give Enjolras a wink. “Of course, that’s more Courfeyrac’s style than yours…”

“None of the above,” Enjolras told him, suddenly wishing he still had his phone to give him something to do with his hands. “I, uh, may have – shoved a cop.”

Grantaire’s eyes narrowed. “Shoved?” he repeated. “What does shoved mean in this context?” He didn’t wait for Enjolras’s answer. “And keep in mind that I’m not a cop or a prosecutor before you decide to obfuscate or lie.”

Enjolras shrugged again. “Maybe not, but you could also be tried as an accessory if I explain further.”

“As if I wouldn’t immediately execute my fifth amendment right against self-incrimination.”

Enjolras half-smiled. “Cute,” he said. “But you weren’t there.”

Grantaire arched an eyebrow at him. “And it’s on them to prove that,” he said coolly.

“So you’d risk a perjury rap for me?” Enjolras asked skeptically.

Something darkened in Grantaire’s expression. “I’ve risked worse for you,” he muttered, and Enjolras looked away, feeling his face color and hating himself just a little for it.

He bit back his initial response of defensiveness, of turning the tables back on Grantaire and asking him just what, exactly, he had risked over the course of what one could charitably call a relationship and more accurately call a friends with benefits arrangement – but then again, when had they ever been friends? – but something in Grantaire’s expression stopped him.

Or maybe it was just because he was stuck with his ex for the foreseeable future, and even he knew this was a bridge not worth burning right that moment.

“A cop decided to beat up a Black girl,” he said. “She couldn’t have been more than 14, and he didn’t even bother with his baton. She was on the ground and he wouldn’t stop, so I…” He trailed off and shrugged. “I stepped in.”

Grantaire let out a low whistle. “So you’re looking at aggravated battery,” he mused, looking up at the ceiling. “That’s, what, a class X felony? So you’re looking at 6 to 30, unless you can plead it down.”

Enjolras made a face. “Battery’s a stretch,” he said dismissively. “I’ll probably get slapped with aggravated assault.”

“Because the state’s attorney’s office is going to take one look at your record and decide to be generous.”

Enjolras barked a laugh and shook his head. “How do you know all this anyway?”

Grantaire shrugged. “I watch a lot of Law & Order reruns.” He gave Enjolras a critical look. “But potential criminal charges aside, are we just supposed to wait here with no link to the outside world until things blow over or something?”

It was Enjolras’s turn to shrug. “Or something.”

Grantaire sighed. “Great,” he said mournfully. “Well, thankfully, I was planning on quitting my job anyway, or I’d definitely be fired after this next round of no-call, no-shows.” He shoved himself up off the couch and slumped over to the small refrigerator humming ominously in the kitchen, and he opened the tiny freezer portion, pulling out a miniature ice cube tray. “That’s just pathetic,” he said, shaking his head.

Enjolras frowned. “Please don’t tell me you’re already making yourself a drink.”

“Hilarious,” Grantaire said. “But I already checked, and the only booze someone thought to stock this joint with is a couple bottles of bourbon, and I take my bourbon neat.” He cracked the ice cube tray into a ragged dishcloth, which he bundled up before carrying it over to Enjolras, holding it out for him. “This is for you, to try to keep that eye from getting worse,” he said, a little gruffly.

“Thanks,” Enjolras said, hesitating for only a moment before taking the dishcloth-wrapped ice and holding up to his eye, wincing at the cold. 

Grantaire looked at him carefully. “I’m guessing from the way you’re sitting, you’ve also got hit in the ribs – bruised or broken?”

“I’m sure they’re just bruised,” Enjolras assured him, but judging by the look on Grantaire’s face, he didn’t believe him.

Instead, he returned to the kitchen and refilled the ice tray, placing it back in the freezer. “So what are we gonna do now?” he asked off-handedly.

Enjolras shrugged. “Honestly? I have no idea. I’ve never exactly been someone good at relaxing.”

Grantaire snorted. “No shit, Sherlock.”

Enjolras arched an eyebrow, watching with his one good eye as Grantaire flopped down on the couch again. “You know, there was once a time when you would’ve given anything for it to be just you and me, alone, with no outside world for a few days.”

He had intended for it to be a funny, lighthearted memory, but he knew immediately by the way Grantaire sucked in a breath that it had landed as anything but that. They clearly weren’t to the point of joking about what they’d once had yet – if they’d ever get to that point. “Yeah, well,” Grantaire said, carefully avoiding Enjolras’s eyes, “that was a long time ago.”

Enjolras felt himself flush, but before he could offer some kind of apology, or explanation, Grantaire cleared his throat. “I think I’m just going to take a nap,” he said, still avoiding looking at Enjolras. “Riots really take it out of me.”

“Oh, right,” Enjolras said, hurrying to stand. “You can have the futon—”

“Nope, I got dibs on the couch.”

Enjolras frowned. “Take the futon,” he said. “I’m not going to make you sleep on the couch.”

“And I’m not going to make the person with potentially busted ribs sleep on the couch,” Grantaire shot back. “Besides, I checked out the futon before you arrived, and trust me, you’re not doing me any favors by switching.”

He said it with a sort of forced levity that told Enjolras not to push it further, so he didn’t. “If you say so,” he muttered instead, standing up and making his way over to the small pile of books stacked along one wall, hoping he could find something to keep his attention. 

By the time he returned to the futon with a novel that looked like it might do the trick – or at least make him angry enough that he’d have written a very thorough letter to the book’s publisher by the time he got out of there – Grantaire had rolled over onto his side, his back to Enjolras, ostensibly asleep.

But even though it had been a while since they had slept in the same bed, let alone the same room, Enjolras still knew Grantaire well enough to know when he was faking being asleep. And as he cracked open the book he had grabbed, he knew that Grantaire’s too-even breathing definitely indicated that he was not actually sleeping.

Which meant he preferred pretending to sleep to Enjolras’s company.

If that was any indication of how their time stuck together in the safe house was going to go, Enjolras couldn’t help but feel that they would both be very lucky if they made it out of there alive.

>>Read part 2 here>>

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #ask #answered #hey nonny #fanfiction #les miserables #modern au #former relationship #reconciliation #well sort of #coming down the pipeline anyway #~tension~ #sorry to break this into 2 (or more) parts #writing has been a s t r u g g l e #and I figured i could use the additional motivation to actually finish this #Anonymous

[cumbercookiebatchs]

How about Enjolras who's been in a relationship before but his ex wasn't a very good person and whenever they would do anything d/s, he wouldn't provide the aftercare Enjolras would need to prevent bad sub-drop, so Enjolras doesn't actually know that's something necessary and normal, and so he's startled and confused the first time him and Grantaire do something that is d/s that afterwards Grantaire treats him so softly and takes care of him. When he tells Grantaire why he's so shocked he explains his previous relationship and Grantaire sees red and promises himself that he would never treat Enjolras like that and Enjolras has to get used to being taken care of like that.

(PS I love your writing 🥺)

Grantaire had never seen Enjolras looking as tiny and delicate as he did in that moment, still flushed and breathy from before, his concave belly rising up with every little rushed breath.

He brushes his thumb light as a feather on Enjolras's wet lashes, both to wipe those tears away and call Enjolras's eyes on him, smiling sweetly when they opened.

Slowly, he runs his hand up and into Enjolras's curls, brushing them off his forehead before cradling him into his arms, sat on his lap with Grantaire's back against the headboard and bundled up between the sheets.

Grantaire runs his hands over his body and soothes soreness away, nuzzles his warm face and helps him drink, and is met with blue eyes once again, looking up confusedly at him.

Enjolras's lip trembles and he shivers between his arms, "What are you doing?" he asks, his voice a tiny little thing. Grantaire smiles at him and kisses his nose, places his hand on Enjolras's tiny waist, "I'm taking care of you".

"Why?"

It's Grantaire's turn to be confused then, still hugging Enjolras close to his chest, still sweetly petting him, "Because you deserve it, and because I want to. Because you've been good and perfect for me, and you took such good care of me, now it's my turn to take care of you, to make sure you're alright and safe and warm, to let you know how much I love you, to let you know how good you are".

Enjolras whimpers in his arms and looks at him with big round eyes, overwhelmingly filled with tears, "I am?"

Grantaire's heart shatters. He takes Enjolras's face between his hands, "of course you are sweetheart. You're my perfect darling. What did I do do to make you doubt? You must tell me love, please"

"Nothing, I just-" Enjolras shivers again, and he follows Grantaire's movements as he tucks the blanket more tightly around him, and another fit of tears shakes him whole, makes him curl in a tight ball into Grantaire's chest, seeking warmth and comfort, "I don't know why I'm crying, I really like what you're doing, I'm just not used to it".

At that, dread falls on Grantaire, but he tries to keep his body relaxed and open as not to startle him. Carefully, fearing his answer but already expecting it, Grantaire tucks Enjolras's head under his chin, "What do you mean, darling? You don't like being held?"

Enjolras mumbles into his chest, and it's tiny and low and all kind of trembling and a bit ashamed, that yes, I do, I've just never been held before, and Grantaire suddenly wants to kill anyone who dared to lay hand on him with anything else but tenderness. He wants to cover Enjolras in praise, tell him how perfect he is, how smart and wonderful and beautiful he is.

He kisses Enjolras's temple and fully curls around him, holds him as tight as he can without hurting him, tips his chin up with gentle fingers and smiles at him with all the love he has for him, "It's okay love, it's okay. I'm here to hold you now. You can cry all you want, I'm here, I got you. It's okay".

#Thank you dear❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ #I hope you'll like this ❤️❤️❤️❤️ #I'm really soft for this #Enjoltaire #Tw d/s #tw sex mention

[lizardrosen]

@eirenical also asked "..and omg is it terrible to want to know about literally all your Les Mis, Narnia, and Star Wars WiPs?? Because I kind of want to know about all of them. XD" on my wip post

Les Mis

SINGING THE SONG OF ANGRY MEN is just my catch-all les mis doc from before I transferred everything from Word to Scrivener, meaning everything in there is before reading the book. I was probably really unfair to Cosette because i thought of her as competition for Eponine's happiness. Anyway, have a e/R fic i wrote based purely on dash osmosis, and complete with misspellings!

resurrection? was just a really strong image i had to write out and was always curious what the larger story would be. Basically Grantaire is smiling soppily at Enjolras and then thinks "That was before they died" and is sad and thoughtful about The Ideal.

Gray Is Okay - turns out I've already posted this one on tumblr! Grantaire and Enjolras talk about pronouns and convictions and uncertainty!

brietbart online - short fic where Enjolras gets himself worked up over right wing newspapers because “It’s good to know how the enemy thinks” and Grantaire helps him calm down. (Pretty sure this one was inspired by someone being Very Extremely Wrong about one of my favorite episodes of star trek, and then I noticed the source) This wasn't very good writing and it wasn't really going anywhere, so I'm never going to post it.

“Please Come Inside” - Enjolras is greyromantic and mostly he just loves all his friends, but he has a queerplatonic relationship with Courfeyrac which slowly develops into (possibly?) romantic attraction, and he's very confused and upset by this internal change and has to Process.

from my vague notes:

at some point they end up at a chinese restaurant because courfeyrac calls it "the ultimate comfort food" enjolras always makes a token protest when they go, but he secretly loves it just as much or more because salty foods are his weakness "we don't need to change anything we're doing," courfeyrac says as he stabs at an egg roll with a single chopstick, "or we can. Uh, your choice. But no matter what I won't be ashamed of you, and i'll trust that you aren't ashamed of me." (courfeyrac is not aro-spec, but he did introduce enjolras to the term) and they talk about their feelings and enjolras's main fear, besides that he's not aromantic at all, is that he'll be forcing courfeyrac into the closet, because even if whatever-he's-feeling is close to what someone else might call romantic, he still Can Not bear to have himself called a boyfriend courfeyrac mostly just wants enjolras to be comfortable, and he's willing to take whatever form their relationship eventually comes

Friendlier Skies - this one's my les mis space au, with a bunch of shorter stories that all fit into the same solar system. One of my favorite elements is that the Gorbeau Building has been remixed into a ship that accepts literally anyone as passengers with no questions asked.

And the Narnia and Star Wars are going under a cut!

Narnia

Gallivanters is an AU where instead of being from Narnia, Caspian is just a Spanish transfer student at the boarding school where Edmund and Peter are, and they have a bunch of nerdy adventures. I'm pretty sure Caspian/Peter was endgame in my head, but i never got that far.

once a king or queen was just my catch-all Narnia doc. Lots of Edmund, lots of Susan, and one ficlet where Susan Pevensie and Carrie White talk about the family they've lost and the girls they don't need to be anymore. I swear I remember writing a lot of Jill and Eustace too, but it must have gotten lost when transferring computers.

Theory of Narnia - technically not a WIP anymore, but I used the plot of Narnia to write an essay explaining different Theory of Knowledge concepts for extra credit in high school. It had footnotes and everything!

To Fill Different Lives was a passion project for several years! It was supposed to be for a fic exchange in 2010 but it got too big for me and I had to drop out. It's Jadis after the Last Battle, recounting her history to no one because there's no one left. Many things about it make me cringe looking back at it, but I still looove this opening:

I have lived for a long time, long enough to fill several different lives. Looking back, I begin to realize just how similar all of these lives have been. Each time, I had power, but needed more. Each time, I chose a color and assumed it as a part of my identity. And each time, there was a boy.

Star Wars

There Will Be Light - oops, I already posted this one on tumblr too! Luke has bad dreams after Obi-Wan is killed, and Han comforts him. Not meant to be shippy but it definitely could be!

Qui-Gon lives (and somehow everything is worse??) - never got past the "vague chatting" stage, but our conversation started with this

lizardrosen: you know how qui-gon tells padme something like "i can only defend you, i can't fight a war for you" ? and then the jedi order DOES fight a war for the republic eirenical: YES. lizardrosen: how *pissed* would he have been if he'd lived to find out about kamino and the clones and all of that eirenical: *nodnodnod* I think about that a lot, actually. About how Qui-Gon would have dealt with the war. Somehow, I think it would have either broken him completely... or broken his compassion for others. AND I'M NOT SURE WHICH WOULD BE WORSE.

and then we talked about how qui-gon and obi-wan and anakin are a really solid trio for a long time, so it takes a long time to break qui-gon's compassion, but it happens hard, and "obi-wan and anakin are never quite able to be the dynamic duo; they'll always be three minus one but they try, they try so HARD"

Obi-Wan after Revenge of the Sith is just what it says on the tin. He's sad and alone and trying to connect to Qui-Gon, but not quite ready for him even when he does finally show up. This one also has a really good opening paragraph!

Everyone Obi-Wan loves is taller than him. Everyone he has loved? Used to love? No, he loves them still, even those gone from the world, or out of his grasp. He would have grown to love Luke and Leia too, tiny as they are, if given half the chance, which is exactly why he cannot allow himself to take that chance.

#eirenical #les mis #narnia #star wars #my writing #friendship is great!

[thebeatingofyourheart]

This is Halloween

A/N: Just a short Enjoltaire one-shot for the Halloween season. Enjoy!

The fall season was upon them. Pumpkin spice and allergies filled the air. Enjolras, Grantaire, and their daughter Delphi were celebrating the festive season with a movie marathon of fall classics, concluding with an age old classic, the Nightmare Before Christmas. As ‘This is Halloween’ started, Delphi let out a small squeak and hid her face in Grantaire’s shirt. The artist smiled and wrapped and arm around her. 

“Scared, sweetheart?” He asked tenderly. She nodded, refusing to open her eyes. 

“Turn it off!” She pleaded in a high voice. 

Grantaire smiled softly before trying to coax her to look up. 

“They’re just made of clay sweetie. See? Someone makes every part of them from clay then moves the figures shot by shot. Think of it as art class. I even made some of these before.”

Delphi peaked back up at the screen and released her death grip on Grantaire’s shirt a bit. “So they’re not real?” She asked. 

“No. I can make a model of one tomorrow and show you,” Grantaire explained gently. Delphi watched through the rest until the final Oogie Boogie scene and screwed her eyes shut. 

“They’re just clay, right?” She asked softly and forced herself to look up. Grantaire smiled proudly and nodded. 

“Exactly right.”

“They’re kinda cool actually.”

“I guess you’re glad we didn’t turn it off, huh?” He teased. Delphi smiled and looked over Grantaire giggling. 

“Daddy’s not!” 

Grantaire looked over at his other side where Enjolras was in a very similar position to what Delphi was in. He hid further into Grantaire’s sweatshirt and squeaked when Grantaire pulled him closer. 

“Don’t worry love, I’ve got you,” He said, half teasing. Enjolras peaked his head up to glare at Grantaire but retreated again when Ophir Boogie broke into bugs on screen. 

“I hate you,” he grumbled. 

“Don’t worry daddy, they’re just clay,” Delphi reassured as the movie ended and Grantaire laughed. 

“See Ange? Even a six year old gets it.”

“It has nightmare in the name!” Enjolras protested. “How does clay make it better? It’s just more Frankenstein-y!”

Grantaire chuckled and brought Delphi to bed. When she was all tucked in, Grantaire kissed the top of her head. 

“Alright, now you get some sleep and I’ll go get Daddy out of the couch.” Delphi giggled and Grantaire flicked her night light on before leaving. 

As predicted, Enjolras was in the same cocoon he was when Grantaire left and the artist laughed as he scooped up the pile of blankets and deposited them on their bed. He looked for the familiar blonde curls and kissed the tip of Enjolras’ nose. 

“Are you okay, ange?” He asked with a smirk. The revolutionary’s scowling face emerged from the blanket bundle. 

“I hate that movie and you know it.”

“Oh c’mon mon coeur,” Grantaire pleaded dramatically, flopping on the bed next to Enjolras. “It’s a kids movie and Delphi seemed to like it after I explained it and we’re making dolls tomorrow.”

“But-”

“Deal with it tomorrow?” Enjolras grumbled into Grantaire shoulder, where he was now making himself at home.

“Fine. Goodnight, mon preux chevalier.” Grantaire smiled into Enjolras’ blonde curls.

“Night, mon ange.”

A week later, after a bunch of homemade stop-motion dolls showed up (Grantaire claimed he had nothing to do with it), it was finally halloween. Enjolras came home early so he and Grantaire could take Delphi out trick-or-treating. When he opened the door to their home, he was greeted by a miniature Oogie Boogie from Nightmare Before Christmas. He jumped a bit as it ran at him and hugged him. 

“Daddy! Look at the costume Papa made for me!” Delphi squealed. Enjolras was still frozen but nodded weakly.

“Looks great,” He stammered. Grantaire came in the room with severely intricate face paint and in a costume so he looked like a real life Jack Skellington. 

“Hey ange, what do you think?” He asked, kissing the pale blonde’s cheek. Enjolras snapped out of his daze and glared at Grantaire.

“I think I’m going to kill you,” he growled quietly. Grantaire laughed as Delphi ran back off to her room.

“C’mon love, I’ve got one for you too. Please?” He added with a pleading look.

An hour later, the family was out trick or treating. As Delphi went up to a house with a group of her friends, her parents watched her from the sidewalk, with Grantaire in his Jack costume and Enjolras in a Sally costume, complete with make-up and blue hair. Grantaire slug his arm around Enjolras shoulder and smiled at him cheekily.

“So, I’m glad you came around,” he teased. Enjolras rolled his eyes.

“You are lucky I love the two of you.”

“Aw, Enj. This is halloween, this is halloween.”

“I am going to stab you.”

#enjolras x grantaire #cute enjoltaire #affectionate enjolras #angry enjolras #enjoltaire fluff #halloween les mis #halloween enjolras #halloween enjoltaire #nightmare before christmas #delphi #les amis de l'abc #les mis #les amis fluff #enjolras fluff

[goodbyecringe]

(Un)Natural Selection Chapter 20

Enjolras

“Julien, do you normally propose to girls while they’re concussed and have previously disclosed their lack of romantic feelings for you or is this a new tactic?” Courfeyrac mocked as he handed me an ice pack.

“Your humor never fails Courf,” I groaned, placing the ice on my already swollen eye.

“Then allow me to ask, what the hell were you thinking?” He shouted, startling Combeferre, who was still trying to tie his robe.

“I was thinking about the future of Illeá. I’m sorry for putting my country’s interest at heart.”

“That’s the problem! You only ever think about your country! You weren’t thinking about Éponine, who has already told you that she doesn’t love you. You know we’re not all marble statues that don’t have feelings,” He yelled, pouring himself a glass of scotch.

“Is this why you didn’t eliminate her when she told you that she was a Six?” Ferre asked.

“No, I’ve known for a while that she was from one of the Lower Castes. It was obvious from how the other girls and my parents talked about her that most people are uncomfortable with her being at the palace. I didn’t eliminate her when she told me because I didn’t want to,” I explained.

“You mean because you love her,” Courfeyrac corrected.

“No, I don’t love her. With her upbringing, she can represent a signal of-”

“That’s exactly your problem, Julien,” Combeferre cut me off. “This is all you ever think about. The skipping meals, lack of sleep, all of the stupid things you do that are going to cut your lifespan by fifteen years. They’re all things that you do because you think you have your country’s best interests at heart but you’re going to kill yourself!”

“Which wouldn’t please your wife. Oh wait, the closest you’ve gotten to a wife punched you in the face. You can’t tell a girl that she’ll serve as an important political asset and then propose. Women want to marry for love, Julien.” Courfeyrac said, sitting on the table.

“I would have thought that she would have loved to serve her country like this. I mean, isn’t that the whole purpose of The Selection?” I asked, remembering the many conversations we had about how I needed to find a wife.

“Are you sure that’s why you asked her Julien?” Courfeyrac asked, finishing his glass of scotch.

“What do you mean? Why else would I have asked her?”

“Because you love her and you don’t know how to express your feelings,” Courfeyrac mumbled.

“That wasn’t funny Courf. That was actually quite rude,” I said, looking to Combeferre for confirmation.

“I agree with Courfeyrac. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’ve always treated Éponine differently from the other girls. You’ve visited her every day and allowed her to come to meetings at the Musain-”

“Because she’s interested in our philosophy!” I corrected him.

“And there are eight other girls here that are passionate about something that can better Illea,” Courfeyrac yelled.

“I thought you all wanted me to marry Éponine? I thought you’d be happy that your marble man finally decided to settle.”

“We wanted you to address your feelings. Letting your passion for Patria control your love life was the last thing any of us wanted,” Combeferre said, putting his hand on my shoulder.

“Why did you really ask Éponine to marry you?”

I sat down at the table again and put my head in my hands while I tried to come up with an answer to Combeferre’s question.

“When I meet with the other girls it always seems a little awkward to me. I mean, you can only talk about the gardens and horses for so long. Everything with Éponine just comes easier than with everyone else. I think I could tolerate the rest of my life with her, but she obviously feels different about the subject. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was packing her things right now,” I sighed, as Combeferre and Courfeyrac both put a hand on my shoulders.

I waited all night for a butler or guard to tell me that Éponine was requesting to leave, but they never came. Even after another week of only leaving her room for lessons, Éponine still stayed, even though we hadn’t seen each other since she punched me in the face. According to Joly, she was only taking meals in her room because she was still suffering from side effects of her concussion, but Joly didn’t seem to be too bothered. For the most part, I had accepted this as Éponine and mine’s new relationship, if it could be called one. I spent more time with my Father’s advisors trying to find a way to appease all of the caste levels, which was much more comfortable for me then going on dates with the other girls. Apparently, the press was beginning to become uneasy that there wasn’t any evidence that I had become physical with any of the Elite. Naturally, I wanted to seek advice from my closest confidants, however, I felt like this issue would be handled better by the Friends of the ABC as an entirety.

“I would like to thank everyone for their input on Illea’s current issues. Now if you’ll forgive me, I would like to bring up a personal issue that has come to my attention,” I addressed them, feeling the color rise in my cheeks.

“According to several sources, the press is beginning to become uneasy about the lack of physicality between the Elite and myself,” I continued.

“So you just have to kiss one of them?” Pontmercy clarified.

“Yes.”

“Why can’t you just kiss the girl you like the most?” Pontmercy asked.

“Because the girl Enjolras likes the most doesn’t like him back,” Courfeyrac rebutted.

“Why don’t you just kiss the girl that likes you the most?” Bahorel asked.

“I don’t think it would be fair to play with a girl’s emotions like that. What if I don’t harbor any romantic feelings towards her and I decide to send her home next week?”

“You could try to be honest with your intentions,” Feuilly responded.

“How would he go about doing that? ‘Excuse me, I don’t love you but the paparazzi are demanding a show. Will you let me kiss you?’ That girl would probably expose Enjolras on the Report the second she got the chance,” Courfeyrac said.

I turned to Jehan, who had remained unusually silent during this conversation.

“Prouvaire?” I asked as he scribbled in his notebook.

“You should already know where I stand, Enjolras. You need to stop making decisions with your brain and start making them with your heart. You’ve been letting politics control this entire Selection, which is why you haven’t opened up to any of the girls yet. Turn that big rebellious brain off for an hour and see what happens,” Jehan said.

I stood and processed what he had just said and the silence in the room showed that the rest of the men were also processing what they had just heard. Several more ideas were thrown out into discussion, but no one was able to come up with a full proof solution. As the men began to pack up their things I checked over my notes to make sure I covered everything.

“One more announcement, my friends. My mother will be hosting a Christmas Eve Ball one week from today. The Royal Planner has requested that The Friends of the ABC join the Elites for dancing lessons every day after lunch. This way everyone will be able to have a partner and you all might avoid any potential catastrophes at the Ball,” I announced.

There was a mixture of groans and cheers from the men as I put on my jacket. As I drove back to the palace I debated whether I should go and visit Éponine to clear the air before we attended the lesson together tomorrow. I knew Éponine wasn’t the type of person that would cause a scene in front of other people, so I mainly worried about making sure she felt comfortable dancing with me. As I walked towards her room I could hear a few voices from around the corner.

“Lady Éponine will not see any members of the guard. If you have orders please bring a signed copy from General Javert,” I heard a woman say.

“Don’t make me bother Javert at this time of night. It’s just a quick sweep of the room to make sure her windows are secure,” a man responded.

“If it’s just that then I’ll do it myself and relay the information. Do you know what time it is? There is no reason for you to have waited until this time of night to do your job. Lady Éponine shouldn’t have to be bothered because of your inability to prioritize your duties”

From the sound of angry footsteps approaching me, I gathered that the guard had stormed off. When he passed me I recognized him as the guard that initially recovered Éponine and brought her to the infirmary. As I approached her door I recognized that the woman that sent him away was a maid named Elise. Normally when I visited Éponine, Elise seemed like a shy and quiet girl, but it was comforting that she could stand her own to serve Éponine.

“Your Highness,” she curtsied.

“Elise, could I possibly see Éponine?”

“I’m sorry Your Highness, but Éponine’s currently in the bath,” she said, almost shaking.

“Would you just let her know that I stopped by?” I asked before thinking.

“Of course, sir. Can I relay a message for you?”

“Could you just tell her that I’m sorry,” I said, realizing that if we were going to talk at all tomorrow I would have to swallow any of my pride and apologize.

“Of course, Your Highness. Enjoy the rest of your night,” Elise curtsied before going back inside Éponine’s room.

#enjonine #enjolras #prince enjolras #eponine #Les Miserables #the selection #crossover #cross-posted #ao3 #les amis #Courfeyrac #combeferre #modern au #fanfiction

[nimuesimagines]

If you wouldn’t mind- would you please write an Enjolras x Male!Reader at a protest?

A/N : Sorry for the time I took to write this ! 😊 I hope you'll like it anyway ! 😊

Disclaimer : The GIF isn't mine and I'm not fluent in english ! 😊

Disclaimer 2 : DEATH. DEATHLY DEATH. SORRY T-T

Disclaimer 3 : I'm hella tired, I probably made lots of mistakes, please tell me if you see any ! My non bilingual ass didn't take her 3 hours of sleep very well 😂

You met Enjolras and Les Amis in the streets

You overheard their conversation (because let's be honest, those guys are loud. Very loud)

And couldn't help but join them

Enjolras was actually very happy about your presence in the group

He didn't show it, but he sure was happy

You were passionate about revolution, even though you were still funny

-

He became great friends with you when he saw you taking Gavroche on your lap, singing him to sleep

Because this little boy was tired as hell

He just stayed behind you, watching you with a little smile

" Tu es honnêtement l'une des personnes les plus gentilles que j'ai pu rencontrer, Y/N"

("You're honestly one of the kindest persons I've ever met, Y/N")

He said it with a kind smile, before going back to his work

-

He loved talking with you, exchanging your different point of view about the future of the France

And he didn't notice that a few months after meeting him and Les Amis, you started staring at him a little too long

Or touching his hand while giving him some paper, with purpose

Or complimenting him

Joly had to talk to him, explaining him your comportment

He was flattered, but didn't know how to react

And he started avoiding you

It was kinda awkward

And you started being worried

What did you do to angry Enjolras ?

Grantaire explained the all thing to you, after you promised to buy him some wine

And God, this was so embarrassing

-

You asked to Enjolras if you could have a conversation with him

And you said that Joly was right

The Revolution was probably going to kill all of you anyway, so you prefered tell the truth and dying without any regrets

He blushed, and said that he felt the same about you

AND GOD

WHAT A REVELATION

HE WAS SO GOOD AT HIDING HIS FEELS

But you were very happy to learn that he loved you too

-

Les Amis shipping you a lot

Marius wanting to give you a wedding in the café

Obviously, you did not do that

Fortunately.

-

Enjolras calling you "mon renard" (my fox) because you were very smart

And him being the cutest boyfriend ever

He let you sleep on his shoulder

Or on his lap

Or anywere you wanted to

You slept together, and you are the little spoon

He love to kiss your cheek when you're worried about the Revolution

-

Speaking of Revolution

It came way sooner that what you thought

Enjolras worrying about you

You worrying about Enjolras, a lot

Asking the others to take care of each other

" Grant', keep an eye on Enjolras, please..."

"Guys, take care of Y/N. He must be protected on all cost."

But both knowing that the Revolution is deadly

And that you would probably lose a lot of your friends

During the Battle, Enjolras took your hand anytime he could

Pressing it hard, and strocking your hair

You fortunately didn't see each other die

Because I'm so sorry, but you both didn't make it

-

But you both get into Paradise !

And lived an happy ever after ❤️

#enjolras #enjolras x reader #enjolras x you #les miserables #les mis x reader #les miserables imagine #les miserables fanfiction #les mis headcanon #les mis headcanons

[thesunsethour]

Little Les Mis Things ~ 28 Dec 2018

* okay so this is becoming a series

* let’s get started my guys

* DUBLIN EDITON

* KILLIAN DONNELLY BACK AS MY MAIN MAN JEAN VALJEAN!! he was perfect absolutely incredibly prefect. i saw him a year ago in london and then booked again for this summer but he was gone so when i found out he was gonna be in dublin i like ran to get tickets (i explained this all to him at 482994 miles an hour at stage door he was lovely). Killian is the best Valjean i’ve ever seen he hits all the high notes his acting is superb he just embodies everything jean valjean and i will treasure his stint as JVJ for as long as i live

* Katie Hall as Fantine was amazing!!! you really got the sense that fantine wasn’t this ‘can-do-no-wrong angelic woman’ but literally a young girl forced into terrible circumstances which Katie played SO WELL holy fuck. her acting with javert and JVJ was just stellar

* Javert was Nic Greenfields and he. was. INCREDIBLE!!! stars honestly had me in tears what the fuck man it was beautiful and he was like slowly getting more haggard as the musical went on and khlgkfk I LOVED HIM

* Cosette was Bronwen Hanson and she was the smiliest Cosette i’ve ever seen it was so pure you could really see her as just the embodiment of light and hope and her scenes with Marius was A+++

* Speaking of Marius, Mr Henry Apps made his professional debut during this tour and WOW!! astounding. he was awkward but not annoying and love struck but not sickening

* Enjolras!! Will Richardson!!! he had the good ass blond curls for this role GOOD ASS BLOND CURLS!! he was so good and his singing was beautifulllllllllllLll

* Éponine my love was Tegan Bannister and this was a solid af éponine tegan really made this role her own while still being éponine if you get me it was gr88888

* Thénardier was Martin Ball and need i say any more than he stole the goddamn show

* Mme Thénardier was Sophie-Louise Dann and hoooooooly shit was she committed to her accent it was brilliant and she was hilarious

* OK GENERAL THINGS

* there was no revolve like there is in london and so the whole staging was different and it was freaking fantastic

* they included all these little book moments like when valjean steals some money from a kid twas good

* killian donnelly is a fantastic actor and when JVJ is getting rejected by everyone at the start i was nearly on my feet like “STOP BEING MEAN TO HIM!!!”

* jean valjean got beat up so much in this production. someone help him. let him sleep. stop punching my boy

* the foreman really was fuming today and you could really sense the fear he pity in everyone

* fantine also got beat up by the other factory girls leave my girl alone please!!!

* her hair was so beautiful and when they cut it it was so sad

* fantines transformation from ‘virtuous’ to ‘lovely lady’ was never more pronounced then in this and you could see the early stages of her sickness and anger and hooooo boy it was emotional

* you could also see some of the other ladies getting sick and it kinda made out that they also died soon after and that’s so sad oh god

* when that prick who accuses fantine started babbling to Javert fantine had like kill bill sirens going on

* fantine practically attacked JVJ and was like “kinda all your fault bruh” and jvj has his sad puppy dog brooding face of oh no my morality it was dramatic

* javert: jean valjean was captured this morning” JVJ AS MLM: *freeze frame* huh whaaaaa

* who am I? 2!4!6!0! ONEEEEEEEEEE (high note thanks k!!)

* fantines death was so tragic i died too

* whenever a character dies a really bright white light shines on them store that info it’ll become important later

* when jvj met cosette he booped her nose remember that too it’ll become important later on

* master of the house was fucking fantastic best sequence in the whole first act

* thénardier not knowing how to bless himself when his wife says “it’s no more than us christians should do”

* GAVROCHE!!! my little man!!!!! LEGAND our little narrator

* montparnasse didnt have his hat babet did and i was sad

* however, montparnasse was fabulous and his acting choices (by leo miles) were superb and really book accurate he was always real sneaky and sly with perfect posture

* when cosette and marius met cosette dissolved into giggles and it really served to humanise that meet moment

* G R A N T A I R E ( ruben van keer) was the best grantaire i’ve ever seen. he was constantly drunk and drinking and hanging off people and you could see he reallyyyyyy annoyed enjolras BUT R and gavroche had the sweetest relationship (remember that, it’ll be important later)

* gavroche, standing on table: “lemarque is dead”

* enjolras, lifting him down: “lemarque is dead. hmmm. that’s sa- LETS USE HIS FUNERAL FOR OUR POLITICAL MOTIVES”

* all the amis were like “seems kinda soon? idk” but E was just so inspiring that they were like “hell yeah” after two seconds

* cosette was on her balcony and marius was below it ala romeo and juliet and when cosette rushed back into her house to come downstairs marius flung himself against the wall “IM DOING EVERYTHING ALL WRONG” lol drama queen

* attack on rue plumet- CHECK

* during on my own the entire audience seemed to have caught a coughing bug and were hacking up their lungs like SHH

* after on my own éponine walked upstage and the barricade like filled in behind her it was class

* éponine screamed in pain during a little fall of rain and honestly? i died it was so sad

* grantaire hugged gavroche so tightly after éponine died and kissed his head it was so gentle wooeowoowow i stan older/younger brother dynamics

* OKAY SO AFTER GRANTAIRES VERSE IN DRINK WITH ENJOLRAS RAN DOWN FROM THE BARRICADE AND THEN DIDNT HUG HIM AND I WAS LIKE HMMMMMM OK WHAT BUT THEN AS R STUMBLED AWAY EVERYONE IGNORED HIM AND HE COLLAPSED IN A CORNER BUT GAVROCHE RAN OVER AND HUGGED HIM AND FELL ASLEEP ON HIS LEGS CURLED UP IM N O T O K A Y

* bring him home murdered me

* it was so beautiful

* everyone listen to killian donnelly sing bring him home

* he got a solid 2 minute long applause it seemed like the applause would never stop

* since they didn’t have a revolve stage when gavroche went round to pick the ammunition you could hear him singing but couldn’t see him and when the first shot rang out all the barricade boys like jumped but then he started singing and climbing again and made it all the way to the top of the barricade before being shot, bathed in white light and collapsing into enjolras’ arms

* it was SO SAD

* enjolras passed him to grantaire who SOBBED

* and so instead of enjolras and grantaire hugging in drink with me they made had like a solemn moment of understanding over gavroches body and they both looked to traumatised and fuck

* fuck

* then as all the amis died on various parts of the barricade white light was shining in every direction and grantaire was the last to die

* when JVJ was dragging marius into the sewer he was just muttering little reassurances to marius like “come on now good boy there we go not long left come on please” and boy did that shit hurt

* enjolras was upside down in a wagon cause there was no revolve and javert piled gavroches body on top of him

* when thénardier woke JVJ up thénardier nearly karate chopped him it was hilarious

* turning fucked me up they all brought candles on stage and there was this little child there and oh fuck it was so sad

* BUT THEN

* during empty chairs marius walked into a stage filled with candles and picked up éponines one and all the amis filed on and picked up their candle and walked off as he sang and at the very end marius blew out éponines candle and raised the jar it was in like a final toast to his friends what tje fuck that’s sad

* during the wedding the thénardiers were so funny and all the wedding guests copied their ridiculous dance moves

* WHEN JVJ WAS DYING I WAS DYING HE LOOKED SO FRAIL AND OLD AND HE BOOPED COSETTES NOSE AS HE WAS DYING LHLKHKKHKHKG

* fuck off bye i’m broken that was so goddamn good

#heres the REAL adaptation #les mis #les misérables #les miz #les miserables #theatre stuff

[lenezdansleruisseau]

All right, here are my thoughts about the last episode of BBC Les Mis ( I needed a couple of days to sort my ideas, but at last I'm ready)

So, first of all, the things that I liked:

the barricade sequence

I didn't think I would find myself typing this today, but yes, I really liked the barricade part. It was well paced, interesting and involving, it wasn't faithful to the brick word by word, but the sentiment and the message were both there and you could really feel it.

Also, I loved soooo much Enjolras interactions with Courf and Definitely Feuilly, but especially Courf.

"This is history." had me completely sobbing and when Courfeyrac shot the soldier who was going to kill Enjolras I felt my heart breaking.

E and R death was not the brick's death, but it felt right in the general atmosphere of this adaptation and for this characterization, so well done with that. Didn't cry, but still loved that a lot.

Oh, and Gavroche's death? Perfect. There was just a little bit I didn't approve of, but we'll get there later.

Javert’s suicide

Oh, gods! Thank you! It was great. Loved it. Javert is really one of my favorite characters and I was kind of sad about what they were doing to him in this adaptation (but I was also having fun so, you know), but I loved how they handled his death. And his jump didn't look completely ridiculous which is not easy, so kudos to David (maybe a little less crying?)

everything with Gillenormand and Nicolette

thank you Gillenormand to be the creepy old man you ought to be and thank you, Nicolette, for managing to do wonders with all the extra time they gave you, Marius' plotline wouldn't have been the same without you.

Valjean's death

It was good. this is what I have to say about it. It didn't move me that much, but I didn't hate it or even mildly disliked it, so I guess it was ok. Also, brick-wise was faithful enough.

Things I didn't like:

First of, a disclaimer: all the things I'm going to list now are things that I didn't like in the context of this adaptation which means that if I didn't like the choice they made but I felt it worked in the context it won't be here.

Sorry, Joseph, I swear you did great, it's not your fault

The first speech Enjolras gives in this episode, I didn't like it, I know a lot of people really enjoyed this part and I loved it too! Just not that speech, I thought it was flat and a little bit out of place if not even out of character. When I'll watch the episode again maybe I'll try to elaborate on this. 

The all Valjean freeing Javert sequence

It felt a bit forced and I don't think the Valjean of this series would have acted that way, he had no reason to free Javert, he may not have wanted to kill him, but surely he wouldn't have had any problem letting the revolutionaries kill him. He has no problem with murder as we're going to establish later on

Paris Special Greek Chorus Unit

I think it was pilferingapples (but I'm not sure)who talked about the police greek chorus that followed Javert when he went to find Valjean, that was weird and kind of useless. Didn't like that. In general, the fact that Javert has to spell everything out to Rivette who, let's state the obvious here, he's being an instrument to explain everything to the audience. I don't know if it was necessary but I would argue that the viewers are smart enough to understand without the character spelling everything out for them

 Marius, stop dreaming Cosette naked, please 

She's the allegory for Hope and a Brighter Future, show some respect.

Also, Marius, don't give money to the man who just said to you has the intention to start a slave trade in the US

The last scene. 

I have... so many Opinions about it. I saw a guy on twitter (i know I shouldn't have watched the twitter comments about the episode, I'm weak, I know) saying that it was a nice reference to the incipit of Les Mis and no, just no. It was not a reference to that. Did you want to reference that? You show an image of poor/abused/malnourished children in our days. A debatable choice, but at least it's an actual reference to the incipit. Plus, there is a reason why the incipit is at the incipit and not at the end of the novel: Hugo wanted Les Mis to be a message of hope and love and that last shot really wasn't any of that.

Especially in an adaptation that had not given all that space to politics or social problems that last scene seems a lot out of place.

I'm developing a theory about the theme of children and abused children specifically in this adaptation, though, which may redeem slightly (very, very slightly) that last scene, but it'll have his own post.

Now, the ??? things or things that confused me and left me with mixed feelings:

Gavroche's death

In general, I liked it. Gavroche's actor is great and he did a wonderful job, but the problem is the fact that they shifted the focus of his death on Marius going to retrieve his body so Valjean could change his mind and not try to kill him. I mean, they made it very clear and it's very wrong. First of all because Gavroche's death it's poignant in itself and it's important to maintain its significance in the context of Hugo's messages (but we already know that Davies didn't care a lot about those); secondly, how wrong is it that Valjean needs to see Marius risks his life to retrieve the dying body of a child to decide not to murder him? That really disturbed me on so many levels. Mixed feelings for this part.

Again, Valjean freeing Javert

I already said that in the context of this adaptation that scene had no sense, but also it was not good brick-wise. Especially Valjean firing the gun to scare Javert into going away instead of firing it to make believe the others that he actually killed him. My theory on this is that they wanted the keep the Valjean-fires-the-gun bit but with the fact that during that scene there was the fight going on outside no one would have noticed or cared for the sound of a shot, so they needed another reason and, like many other choices in this series, it felt wrong. Didn't hate this scene though, I just didn't understand why handling it this way.

Why is Valjean having guilt visions in the sewers?

I don't have very much to say about that. Didn't understand why was there. And it was a better tempest in a brain than the one in the episode where it should have actually have been the tempest in a brain. Again my question is why.

The fact that Thénardier claims it's all Valjean's fault if he's living like that

In this adaptation makes sense (still not true, but it makes sense that Thénardier would say that). Was that part necessary? Did it go in some direction? Why was in there? I have no idea.

Valjean snitching on himself before the wedding

Don't hate it. Just, why? Again I don't understand most of the choices they made in this episode. Surely I didn't like the "ahah I wanted to kill you, so funny, don't you think?". Of. Fucking. Course. He. Does. Not. Like. That.

Cosette being there for Thénardier's snitching

I have a lot of mixed feelings about this. There's a part of me that really liked it and honestly thought was an interesting change and another one which kept screaming all the time "How is Cosette going to forgive Marius for these lies?"

The jury is still out on this part and it'll probably remain out for a long time.

Valjean dying in Digne 

Why? They never mentioned that place once after the first episode. They didn't even mention the bishop all that much. And how did Cosette know about it? Did he tell her? Why? Wasn't he afraid of her discovering his past?

Generally speaking, I liked the episode, but I think it suffered a lot from the other episodes' terrible characterization, pacing and lack of emotions. on the other side of the medal, some of the things I liked in this episode because I thought worked in this adaptation wouldn't have worked if the series wouldn't have done all those previous choices, so, who knows? The only thing I can say with certainty is that this series left me with a lot of unanswered questions.

#les miserables #bbc les mis #bbc les mis spoiler

[idiopath-fic-smile]

Fic: The Curious Case of L’Ami

Fandom: Les Mis/Starship Iris crossover

Pairing: Enjolras/Grantaire

Summary: Some say L’Ami is a legend, a figment of a void-addled imagination, like that former gambling boat turned ghost ship, or the giant astral squids floating in The Deep.

Notes: Commission for Brynn. (Prompt: Enjolras, Grantaire, and any other amis that strike your fancy in the Starship Iris universe.)

Fic: 

Officially, Adrien Enjolras and his fellow conspirators are dead, killed in an accidental explosion during the failed student protests of 2180. No bodies were ever recovered from the site, but there are eyewitnesses, death certificates, security camera footage which places Enjolras and the others at the scene moments before the fatal detonation.

Unofficially, though--Mathieu Combeferre was always top of the class when it came to hacking video feeds, and it’s true that during his brief stint at the school’s drama department, Sebastien Courfeyrac demonstrated an almost disturbing flair for pyrotechnics.

Beyond that, well, people have a knack for seeing what they expect to see.

Enjolras hates being called a pirate, so naturally, Grantaire does it as much he can.

“What we do is not piracy,” Enjolras insists at dinner that evening. They’re down to only protein tablets again, but Bossuet insists on nightly crew meals anyway, citing some half-remembered psychology paper on the importance of group cohesion. “They were out for gold--”

“--and glory,” Bahorel cuts in.

“And other, non-gold forms of wealth,” Prouvaire offers from the corner, where he’s sharpening knives. “Jewels. Silver. Tobacco.”

“Really, this piracy thing is sounding better and better all the time,” Grantaire declares. “And we haven’t even gone into the clothes yet. Those long swoopy coats? Those hats? They don’t even make saboteur hats.”

“Not yet, they don’t,” says Joly, a needle and thread in his hands and a troubling gleam in his eyes.

Some say L’Ami is a legend, a figment of a void-addled imagination, like that former gambling boat turned ghost ship, or the giant astral squids floating in The Deep.

Others claim to have seen it firsthand. These people are, for the most part, lying.

Feuilly and Musichetta worked for many hours in Joly’s lab to create a series of light wave-neutralizing panels which, when applied to the outside of the ship, render it close to invisible in flight. Scanners are a little harder to fool, but it’s not impossible to scatter a signal, and anyway, Combeferre didn’t get his reputation for nothing.

When the Regime’s local radio fails, when a supply line breaks down, when a piece of unjammable IGR tech becomes hopelessly jammed, when satellites plummet from the sky like shooting stars, a low-level lackey will sometimes blame the crew of L’Ami. Sometimes, this person will be correct.

The thing is, sometimes they’re wrong. Sometimes, the resistance comes from much closer to home: orders not carried out, protocol ignored, a devastating weapon left to suffer a mysterious number of production setbacks. When a simple functionary of the Regime acts out of conscience, allows the gears of the machinery to grind close to breaking, even for a moment, L’Ami is there to take the blame. That’s half the reason it exists.

Grantaire calls it The Good Ship Plausible Deniability, but that’s just Grantaire.

Éponine has a job for them. This is not unusual; Éponine is the one with the most contacts on the ground. Scouring the ‘net is one thing, but she’s the one who picks up on the whispers, the thoughts nobody dares commit to keyboards or transcribers.

A prominent politician on New Jupiter has been working with the mafia since before Neuzo.

“The Estonians?” asks Bahorel; “The Sicilians?”

“More small-time than that,” Éponine tells him. “They call themselves the Jondrettes.”

Cosette turns from her pilot’s chair to frown at Éponine. The two share several seconds of complex eye contact, the kind with multiple layers of meaning, and then Cosette reaches up and squeezes Éponine’s shoulder, supportive.

“We go back a ways,” Éponine explains to the others. “But it’s fine. Won’t be an issue.”

“Are you sure,” says Enjolras.

Éponine smiles wolfishly. “I think Bossuet would say it’ll be good for my sense of closure.”

The mission is complicated. Wiretapping mob lines from the air is a no-go; criminals have the best encryption on the market. Planting a bug in-person means infiltrating either the Jondrettes’ headquarters, or the offices of a minor chancellor.

“Chancellor’ll have less security,” Bahorel points out. “Fewer armed guards--”

“But we’ll need a better cover story,” Éponine finishes. “High clearance. You know what that means.”

Enjolras does.

Grantaire shows up to the briefing wearing thick black eyeliner. “It’s my form of protest,” he explains. “I will rock this look until you at least give me a small plank to walk people off.”

Enjolras, who has consumed more piratical factoids than he’d really care to admit, says absently, “They didn’t even do that” before he’s thought better of it.

“Aha!” Grantaire shouts. “So by not allowing me a plank, you admit we’re pirates!”

“In other news,” Courfeyrac interjects brightly, “the briefing!”

To pull off this latest mission, the crew will need at least two sets of convincing ident cards, badges, and scannable contact lenses to create the illusion of a bodyguard and a mid-level aide. (Bahorel and Courfeyrac, respectively. Éponine is out due to the chance she could be recognized by one of Jondrette’s thugs. It remains to be seen if the Chancellor is brazen enough to invite known criminals directly to his office, but it’s not beyond the realm of possibility.)

“Simple,” says Grantaire. “Child’s play. A grievous waste of my talents. I could be counterfeiting money on a tropical planet, sipping absurdly conceptual cocktails on a hover-beach, and here I am instead--” “And why is that, exactly?” Enjolras fires back. Grantaire just shrugs one easy shoulder, eyes shockingly blue against all that black. It reminds Enjolras of the way Earth stands out in photos taken from space.

“Who’s got the attention span to stay put?” Grantaire replies. “If anyone needs me, I’ll be in my quarters.” He reaches the door, spins, and adds with a grin, “mateys.”

The irritating thing about Grantaire--and there are many, but the chief one among Enjolras’s concerns--is that it is almost impossible to get a straight answer out of him.

Grantaire of a dozen years ago would never so casually take orders, would certainly never then turn around and perform the tasks required. Maybe he just prefers fucking shit up over trying to rally the people. But then again, the work Grantaire does--falsifying records, forging credentials, crafting careful replicas of retinas--is not just an act of creation but an act of incredible precision.

Everyone aboard L’Ami has made sacrifices. Everyone left behind people, places, the chance for anything resembling a steady life. They are all legally dead, after all. Most did it from a place of deep conviction, the same conviction that once drove them to pledge their lives to the cause back on Corinth.

Grantaire was not one of them then. The only change between those days and the day Grantaire chose to run with them was the total failure of the student uprisings.

Why this, why now? Certainly, Enjolras has other things to think about. They’ll need more rations soon, and both Cosette and Feuilly have been after him about some new engine part that should be able to up their speed by something like fifteen percent. Combeferre is only a year’s worth of work away from being able to implant a virus inside the Regime’s intra-government mail system. Courfeyrac’s disguises get more promising every day. And if nothing else, there’s an endless expanse of stars out the window, endless thoughts to have about the scope of the universe and the promise of a brighter dawn.

Most of the time, this is more than enough to keep his mind occupied.

Most of the time.

Enjolras is waiting by the comms when word comes that the plan’s gone south. Fifteen minutes after Courfeyrac successfully managed to slip into the Chancellor’s office and plant the bug inside of his desk, Bahorel was spotted and recognized by a freelance guard.

“How,” says Cosette, calm tone belying her white knuckles on the dashboard.

“Not sure.” Courfeyrac’s voice comes in a whisper; from the sounds of it, he’s ducked behind a corner. “I know he was on the amateur boxing circuit, back in the day--”

The name on Bahorel’s ident card won’t match up with the name he went by then. It’s a matter of time until the small talk branches off into questions and they are discovered.

Enjolras has to fix this. It was his call to send Courfeyrac and Bahorel, his call that put them in danger. He paces the cockpit.

“I’m going in after them,” he announces.

“No,” says a voice from the doorway. Grantaire is standing there, shoulders tense, still wearing that ridiculous eyeliner. “We don’t have the numbers for a confrontation.” His voice is quiet, devoid of irony or sarcasm. Somehow, that’s the strangest part of the whole scene.

“I’ll keep it covert,” Enjolras says. “I’ll pretend to be Bahorel’s superior--we’ve still got that spare IGR uniform, right?”

“We do, but we’d still need a new ID for you,” Combeferre replies. “It’s the same problem.”

“The guard’s less likely to check the credentials of a superior, you know that,” Enjolras snaps. Every second they debate is a second Courfeyrac and Bahorel lose.

“Let someone else do it,” Grantaire adds, grave. “We’ve got four or five working aliases between us--”

“Nobody with the clearance to extract them,” says Enjolras. He sighs, rakes his fingers through his hair. “How fast can you make a new ID, Grantaire.”

Grantaire shakes his head. “Not fast enough.” “Then I’ll have to go without.”

“Please don’t do this, Captain.” Grantaire swallows, stares unblinking at Enjolras. “We can’t lose you.”

Later, Enjolras thinks. Later he will pause to examine this moment, the way Grantaire’s voice cracks on ‘you,’ the way his own throat aches in sympathy. Later, because there will be time, because this plan will work.

“Cosette, get ready to make a fast exit,” says Enjolras, already peeling off his captain’s vest. “Tell Feuilly to stoke the engines. Bahorel, keep stalling. Courfeyrac, make your way back to the ship as discreetly as you can. And Grantaire? Have a little faith.”

Grantaire’s choking, hysterical laughter follows him out of the cockpit.

The sun is bright and surreal in his eyes after so many days shipside. Enjolras strides forward, trying to make his speed look commanding and not desperate.

“You there!” he shouts at Bahorel and the guard. “You’re not paid to stand around chatting!”

“Sorry, sir!” Bahorel barks.

“Sorry, sir!” the guard echoes.

“Report back to your stations immediately!” says Enjolras.

“Yes, sir!” Bahorel jogs off, and Enjolras’s heart lightens.

The guard blinks back at him.

The best way to stem critical thinking and divert suspicion is to play into strong emotions. Fear works well. Enjolras launches into a lengthy, furious lecture on the importance of professionalism, of duty and obedience and manning your goddamn post.

“Sir,” says the guard slowly, “I was on break…”

An actual official of the IGR would know this. An actual official of the IGR would be able to access the roster.

“Meadows dismissed me at 09:00,” the guard continues, “Senior Officer…?” One hand is on his radio. There are people everywhere, no way to stop him without making a scene. Enjolras prays that Courfeyrac and Bahorel are already back on the ship.

“Sir!” someone is yelling from behind him. “Sir!” Enjolras spins around. Grantaire is running towards them at full speed. He’s wearing Feuilly’s mechanic coveralls with Musichetta’s leather gloves, to hide the knuckle tattoos, and a pair of goggles jammed over his dark curls to cover the eye makeup. “Sir!” Grantaire calls, “beg pardon, but you left this in the transport!”

In his outstretched hand is a pristine new ID card, emblazoned with the words Major General Hugo.

The guard looks a little pale.

“Would you like to continue to question me,” asks Enjolras, deadly calm.

“No, sir!” The guard executes a sloppy salute and turns on his heel.

Grantaire is doubled over, breathing raggedly. He must have sprinted the whole way. Feuilly has a slighter build; the mechanic suit strains at the shoulders and biceps.

“Thank you,” says Enjolras, as dispassionately as he can, mindful of the crush of people on all sides.

“No...tip...necessary,” Grantaire manages between pants. “Just...glad...to be...of service.”

Once they are safely back in space again, the mood on the ship is messy and ebullient. They may be down to protein tabs, but it turns out there’s still wine.

Bahorel is cheerfully regaling everyone with the story, including a spirited impression of Enjolras as a tyrannical senior officer. Enjolras half-expects Grantaire to be in the thick of the festivities, but he is absent from the mess hall. Nor is he in the cockpit or the engine room or the training room.

Enjolras finds him, finally, in the hydroponics lab.

“Thank you,” he says, and Grantaire jumps.

“You already said,” Grantaire replies with a crooked smile. There is a measure of truth in that smile, but something else, too. Enjolras allows himself to remember that argument in the cockpit, and it’s as though that glimpse of the slipping mask has granted him a better sense of it now.

“I mean it,” Enjolras pushes. “You risked your life, and I appreciate it.”

He’s not sure what he expects, but it’s not laughter. “God,” says Grantaire, bitter and amused, “don’t. Please don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Act like this represents magnificent sacrifice on my part. I acted with extreme selfishness.”

Enjolras frowns. “I don’t follow.”

“Do you really?” Grantaire’s voice is climbing. “Come on, Enjolras, I refuse to believe you’re this obtuse. You must know.”

It’s beyond confusing. “Know what?” Enjolras repeats. “If you’re going to talk in riddles, at least make it rhyme.”

“Well, fuck,” says Grantaire, and an edge of that hysterical laughter is back. “Fuck, what rhymes with, ‘I’ve been desperately in love with you since I very first heard you preaching fire and brimstone and freedom on the quad?’ It’s a little, it’s a little tough to make that scan, but Jesus Christ, give me a second--”

There is a long pause as every neuron in Enjolras’s brain swivels, reconfigures, sputters back into life. Several things suddenly make more sense. Several things also make less sense, but he’ll have time to sort that out.

They’re alive. They have time.

“Grantaire,” he says, hears himself say, “will you go out with me?”

There is a much longer pause. “...say again?” mumbles Grantaire.

“Grantaire, will you please take off those stupid goggles and go out with me?”

“Wow, uh.” The goggles land on the floor, and Enjolras watches those blue eyes widen.

Enjolras fits his hand to the side of Grantaire’s face because he can, because they’re both still breathing and the skin of Grantaire’s jaw is warm and rough with stubble. When Enjolras presses their mouths together, Grantaire’s lips are soft, almost hesitant until something inside him seems to snap and then they are kissing with abandon as the hydroponic system softly mists the air around them.

Presently, Grantaire pulls away. “Are you sure, I mean, are you one hundred percent sure this isn’t just gratitude at how I totally saved your ass?”

“I’m sure,” says Enjolras. “Although, I do think you deserve a reward for that.”

“Yeah?” says Grantaire.

Enjolras takes a deep breath, carefully schools his face. “Shiver me timbers,” he says, totally deadpan, before reaching out to reel Grantaire back in.

Grantaire’s grin is brighter than a supernova.

#fic #not posting this on AO3 bc how do you tag a crossover of a 19th century literary classic + your own handmade space opera #does it count as self-indulgent if someone else came up with the prompt? #idk but i had fun doing it

[montmartrasse]

Jehanparnasse 2017 - Acceptance

3.5k words 

cw: recreational drug use (harmless marijuana), smoking, 

beta’d by @in-love-and-liberty​ and i am very much thankful for their help

read on ao3

“I don’t trust him.”

“You are the who introduced him to me!”

“So that you could get discount weed and stuff!”

“Well that’s what I’m doing.” Jehan said as they passed the joint to Grantaire.

Grantaire was lying half naked on the floor, next to the twin sized mattress that was Jehan’s bed. This was their usual Sunday set up; a little relaxation before the upcoming week’s classes and some brainstorming for future projects and assignments. Grantaire the art major and Jehan the literature and philosophy double major had a lot in common. They both shared intense love for Ancient Greeks and their mythologies, weird poetry, and getting high.

“Well you should’ve stopped at that, Flower.” said Grantaire without lifting his head to see Jehan who was lying on the mattress.

“Why do you care so much?”

“Because I’ve known Montparnasse since we were kids; he’d been bad back then, he is bad now.” Grantaire passed the joint back to Jehan, then managed to find a pack of cigarettes Jehan left lying on the floor and lit one, signaling he was done with the joint.

“You are being ridiculous. He’s not a murderer or a thief he just sells weed to stressed college kids.” Grantaire turned to Jehan to object but Jehan continued, “we are the stressed college kids R.”

“There is more to ‘Parnasse than selling weed and you know that.”

“Yes, for example, he fucks me into the bed like there is no-”

“Hey!” Grantaire lifted his upper body using his elbow and looked at Jehan directly in the eye “I didn’t ask about your sex life.” He exhaled a cloud of smoke to Jehan’s face. “You know he is dangerous.”

“Pass me the ashtray please, love.” Jehan said, trying to change the subject.

Jehan knew Montparnasse was dangerous, they knew he had illegal connections and owed favors to bad people. They knew that those favors were not the innocent kinds. But Montparnasse was wild, mysterious and menacing. And Jehan liked that about him. They were always seen as a delicate, vulnerable little thing by people and they were sick of that. And Montparnasse was the exact opposite, he made them feel wild too and he liked that about him.

Of course, there were more things they liked about Montparnasse. He made them feel so beautiful yet so strong at the same time. Always challenging them in various ways and appreciating them at the same time. Montparnasse seemed to adore their weird and quirky ways and accepted them as who they were.

Jehan could see why their friends could not accept Montparnasse as they did. If only they saw the man underneath all the layers of leather.

“What do you see in him anyway?” Grantaire asked.

“Nothing,” Jehan answered, his voice sounded irritated. They turned their head to face the ceiling, not Grantaire.

“Hey, Flower, look at me,” Grantaire reached out to Jehan and turned their head around, one hand on their cheek, slowly rubbing. “Don’t get upset, you know I’m only trying to protect you from harm and I just don’t understand why you keep seeing Montparnasse other than buying stuff.” Grantaire sounded apologetic.

He should be apologetic, they thought.

“Because-” Jehan started, they closed their eyes and took a deep breath, but they couldn’t bring themselves to say it. “Nothing.”

Grantaire sighed, “Jehan-”

Jehan turned their back to Grantaire, causing him to lift his hand.

“I want to sleep early, R. Need to go to the library before class for my paper.” with that, Jehan rolled to their side and pulled the sheets to their waist.

Shuffling sounds came from the ground where Grantaire stood up, turned the lights off and left the apartment without saying anything.

Because I love him, they thought. That was what they couldn’t say to Grantaire. Not before Montparnasse heard those words first.

-

On Thursday evening, Jehan met everyone in Café Musain, where they held their weekly meetings for the ABC. The meeting went smoothly as Enjolras and Combeferre explained the details for the charity event they will be holding for the local soup kitchen on Thanksgiving and Courfeyrac assigned everyone their duties. Jehan and Feuilly were given PR duty aka finding their target people and informing them about the event. Grantaire would be making posters and flyers and on Monday, Jehan and Feuilly would visit homeless shelters and local homeless people they knew to inform them. Easy.

After the meeting, everyone stayed for a few drinks and chatter. Jehan was talking to Joly and Bossuet about the development European sewer systems. Joly was explaining his appreciation for sewers as he’d rather die than shit in public pits and Bossuet was joking about how he’d probably fall in one of them if he lived back then when Jehan spotted Bahorel going downstairs.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” Jehan said, leaving the two to explore the depths of sewers.

“Hey!” Jehan called to Bahorel when they saw him in the front of the coffee, a cigarette unlit between his lips.

“Hey! You are not wearing enough layers to be out in the cold.” Bahorel protested Jehan’s arrival without a jacket.

“I’ll be fine for a few minutes.” Jehan pointed at the cigarette with their chin “May I have one too?”

“Sure, sure. But you have to take this.” Bahorel said as he removed his scarf and wrapped it to Jehan’s neck. “At least cover your throat.”

“But you -” Jehan started to protest.

“I have a hoodie under this, here take it,” Bahorel handed them out a cigarette and lit Jehan’s and his.

He removed his sweatshirt’s hoodie under his big, dark green coat and covered his head.

“See? Now nobody is disappointing Joly.” Bahorel smiled. “I see you are smoking more and more little bird.” he then stated in a questioning manner.

“Things are… stressful.”

“I’ve noticed. You haven’t sent any letters to R the whole meeting.”

The letters were something Jehan and Grantaire came up many meetings ago; either one of them would get an idea about a project, paper or even simply Sunday night plans and get overwhelmed with need to share it. However Grantaire always sat at the back of the room and Jehan usually sat by the front and they would not want to disturb the listeners, or worse, Enjolras. So they created this system to simply write them down and pass them along using their friends. At least with that, no sound would be made and two dreamers would feel a little more relieved.

Since the argument of Sunday, Jehan was avoiding Grantaire. It was easy, they had no shared classes and both of them were occupied with papers and other assignments anyway.

“I just-” Jehan began to say but Bahorel started speaking at the same time.

“Is this because of Montparnasse?” he asked.

Jehan sighed deeply. “I don’t know. Maybe. No. and yes at the same time.”

“What happened?”

“R told me that he didn’t trust Montparnasse and I just got upset.” Jehan said.

“You know he’s only trying to protect you, right? He’s worried about you. We all are.”

Protect.

That word again.

“I don’t think there is anything to be worried about.” Jehan sounded grumpy. They were grumpy.

“Are you sure? Because you’ve been down a lot more lately, you smoke more, you go out less, you even look skinnier if that is even possible!”

Jehan couldn’t bring themselves to say that the reason they were so stressed was because of their double major was kicking their ass, that they could not keep up with papers and reading assignments. That they had spent so many sleepless nights because either their anxiety kept them up and eaten them inside out or that they could not simply sleep with all the writing needing to be written.

But they never complained about these things. Everyone had so much on their plates anyway; Grantaire was struggling to earn money to be able to pay school, Feuilly was working 4 jobs at the same time, Enjolras was killing himself to improve ABC and maintain a perfect GPA and so on. Jehan felt like complaining about his dumb assignments would be only adding to everyone’s troubles.

Everyone needed them to be a cheerful, little sing-song, not a whiny poet.

To avoid causing trouble to their friends, Jehan just let Montparnasse be the scapegoat. They knew that was wrong and that they needed to fix it. They would if they had the chance.

“It’s okay. I’m okay. Trust me with this.” Jehan said.

“ ‘t sucks to say this but if Montparnasse keeps fucking you up like this - you should stop seeing him.” Bahorel said and threw his cigarette into the thrash can.

Jehan wanted to scream but instead they opted to put out their cigarette in the trash can and follow Bahorel upstairs.

“I can’t.” muttered Jehan.

“Why?”

“Because -” Jehan stopped themselves again. “Nothing Baz. Nothing.”

Because I love him so much they thought. Not before ‘Parnasse hears it first. Not before Parnasse hears it.

-

On Monday, Jehan and Feuilly were walking to the homeless shelter a few blocks away from Feuilly’s apartment. They were planning to put up posters and talk to some of the people there, letting them know about the event. Flyers and poster designed by Grantaire were in Jehan’s old, brown messenger bag. They felt guilty even carrying them. On Sunday afternoon, Grantaire came by Jehan’s apartment and dropped them, leaving immediately with an excuse of needing to finish some paintings for class.

Grantaire looked upset with Jehan when he stopped by. He did not directly look into Jehan’s eyes and spoke very quietly. Jehan knew they were harsh on Grantaire last week but they were upset with Grantaire too. He shouldn’t have pushed that hard on them.

Jehan felt bad. They needed to sort things out with Montparnasse as soon as possible and they needed to be quick, tonight preferably.

Jehan felt the November breeze and shivered down to their spine. For extra warmth, they linked their arm to Feuilly’s and started walking closer to the taller man.

“Are you cold?” Feuilly asked.

“Mhmm yes.”

“You aren’t taking care of yourself properly Jehan.” Feuilly stated.

“What does this have to do with cold Feu?” Even though Feuilly was being serious, Jehan tried to sound playful. They really could not bear any speech about Montparnasse.

“When was the last time you ate a fruit sweetheart?”

“Joly! Stop possessing Feuilly!” Jehan protested.

“Hey I’m serious! Jehan you’ve been -”

“Upset? Stressed? Acting weird? I know. I am. All of them. And I love you Feu but I everyone is trying to baby me and I just can not stand this anymore. I just - need some time. And everything will be okay. I promise. I can take care of myself.” Jehan could not believe they had let it all out.

Feuilly stopped walking, turning his face to Jehan’s and stared at them for a second. Jehan wished they hadn’t said anything at all. However, suddenly, Feuilly pulled them into a hug, wrapping his arms around them and stroking their back. Jehan could not react to this sudden hug for a split moment but they soon relaxed, burying their face to Feuilly’s shoulder.

Jehan really needed this hug.

After a while, Feuilly unwrapped his arms and stepped back a little, holding Jehan from their shoulders.

“Hey,” he said sweetly “I’m sorry. Do you want to sit down somewhere and talk over a hot chocolate? We can do this later.”

“No, no. It’s okay. I need this to be done.”

Feuilly lowered his hand from Jehan’s shoulders and began zipping up their orange coat.

“If we are doing this, you are not catching a cold.” He smiled and planted a kiss on Jehan’s forehead after putting their coat’s hoodie on their head. “Say, Jehan, what’s the deal with you and Montparnasse?”

“Nothing.” Jehan said again.

I am so in love with him, they thought. They wouldn’t say it to Feuilly out loud, no, not before Montparnasse heard it first.

-

Later that night, Montparnasse was on top of Jehan, kissing and biting their neck as his hands roamed around Jehan’s naked upper body.

Their sweater was long discarded, and they lay on their back on the mattress, Montparnasse’s body pressing down them. He was gently touching their sides, waist and back as he kissed Jehan’s neck, knowing that the redhead enjoyed it there a lot. Jehan’s hands were on Montparnasse’s head, ruining perfectly shaped hair with fingers running through them.

Montparnasse’s soft lips and hard bites on their neck made Jehan feel so good yet they needed those lips on theirs. Jehan moved their hands from Montparnasse’s head, cupping his face, they pulled him closer to their face, then kissing him passionately.

“Someone’s eager.” Montparnasse murmured between kisses.

Jehan could feel the taste of rich quality wine and cigarettes on Montparnasse’s lips. They felt a slip of tongue, a touch of teeth on their bottom lip. Montparnasse slowly began biting, sucking, Jehan only felt more heated.

Montparnasse lifted himself a little above Jehan, his lower body still pressed to Jehan’s, creating a little space between their faces. He brought a hand to Jehan’s face, his finger slowly rubbing their cheekbones. Montparnasse looked at Jehan as if he was looking at a sacred book, a masterpiece. It was no secret that he admired their beauty.

“Such a beautiful face,” he said, still caressing their face.

Jehan could barely hold themselves from exploding with love. Everything about Montparnasse screamed poetry to them; they way his eyes shined with adoration, the way his fast fingers touched Jehan, the way he whispered sweet nothings. Jehan could not stop falling for this man.

However, they needed to talk about things.

“‘Parnasse,” said Jehan lowly.

Montparnasse’s hand stopped still and lay on Jehan’s face. “Is there anything wrong, love?”

Jehan loved how carefree Montparnasse was about that word. Neither of them said anything about loving each other but Montparnasse kept calling Jehan love, my love any given time.

Then why was it hard to say it?

“My friends,” Jehan took a deep breath, “don’t like you.” they said.

And with that, Montparnasse got up. Jehan tried to get up and protest but Montparnasse was quick, he just got up from the mattress, grabbed his leather jacket from the back of a chair, removed a small plastic bag of weed and threw it at Jehan.

“You’ll pay me later.” he said and left the apartment with a thunder of a door slam.

Jehan could see Montparnasse was hurt under his stoic expression. He had every reason to be hurt, Jehan thought. Because Jehan fucked up nicely. Who would start a conversation about loving someone with saying that their friends don’t like them? Apparently Jehan.

They just slammed themselves into the bed and stared at the ceiling until they fell asleep, without bothering to move for the entire night.

-

On Tuesday, Jehan did not go to classes. They emailed their professors saying that they caught the cold.

-

On Wednesday, Enjolras texted to see if they and Feuilly were done with the PR duty. Jehan simply texted “yes” and turned off their phone.

-

On Thursday, they didn’t attend the ABC meeting, saying that a paper due midnight was turning out to be very difficult to write. In reality, Jehan could not lift a finger, let alone attend the meeting.

-

On Friday, Courfeyrac texted to if it was okay for him to visit Jehan but Jehan said they had sudden inspiration flood and did not want to be disturbed while they wrote. Jehan was not writing.

-

On Saturday, Jehan finally managed to find the courage to text Montparnasse. They simply typed “come here please” and sent it.

Minutes, or maybe hours passed until Jehan heard the studio’s door open. Only Montparnasse and Grantaire knew Jehan left the front door unlocked when they were in and Jehan doubted Grantaire wanted to see them.

Montparnasse entered the studio. He was wearing a long black coat today, hiding all of his body until his calves. His black boots looked still good as knew but Jehan knew that Montparnasse owned them for three years now, with extreme care though.

Before Jehan could say a thing, Montparnasse took out several plastic bags of weed and asked “How much do you need?”

“You know I didn’t text you for that.”

“So you wanted to insult me more? I prefer my insults in letters. Summoning me to your feet for that, is simply cruel, Jehan.”

“I wasn’t trying to insult you! If you could just listen to me, you’d know” Jehan couldn’t contain their anger now.

They got up from the bed and walked to Montparnasse. They reached out to Montparnasse’s hand to hold it but the man in black was quick to realize and hide his hands.

“Please, listen to me. Then you can leave, or yell, or storm off. Just - listen first.” Jehan almost begged.

“What is it then?” Montparnasse showed no sign of understanding or softening.

The man who carried lust and love in his eyes looked to matte, emotionless this day. He could conceal his feelings and turn his face into a blank piece of paper when he needed to.

“Look, I’m sorry I started a conversation by saying that my friends don’t like you, but it’s true,  they don’t. But they should because I do. I mean, you probably guessed I liked you in the last three months we’ve been doing this,” Jehan pointed at their bed, “And like I’ve said, this has been going on for three months, and I want to tell you something, and that something is very important to me,” Jehan took a deep breath and stared Montparnasse in the eye, hoping for a change of emotion but there was none, yet they didn’t let the blankness of his face discourage them. “I love you.”

Montparnasse didn’t say anything, move a muscle or show a reaction. He just kept staring at Jehan blankly.

Jehan continued what became a monologue, “There I’ve said it. And I want to say it millions of times, or no more again if you wish me to stop. But you needed to know and I needed you to know. There be it. I love you and I love you so much. And I want you to kiss me and say it back to me, maybe stay with me and later, meet my friends so they can see how much of an amazing person you are, how kind you are with me and how important you are to me. But you don’t have to do any of those if you don’t want to. You can just walk away and never see me again.”

Once their tongue was unknotted Jehan let everything out and that made them feel so much better. They could never contain their feelings anyway, especially about love,  that’s why they were a literature major and a poet.

Montparnasse’s lack of reaction was beginning to scare Jehan and Jehan wished they didn’t say all of those things, maybe time travel and punch themselves as a warning or just completely cut their tongue out.

However, after a few moments, Montparnasse took a step forward, reached out to Jehan and wrapped an arm around them. Then pulling the poet closer to his face, he started kissing Jehan.

The kiss was not like the other times. Usually their kisses consisted of emotions like hunger and lust, pure animalistic desires and some drug induced hazes. This time, Montparnasse was kissing them slowly, taking his time. His lips were not cold or devoid of emotion, they were warm and tender.

After what felt like a few years of kissing, Montparnasse pulled his lips back from Jehan’s and moved them to near their ear.

“I love you too, Jehan Prouvaire.” he whispered.

-

After their talk, Jehan and Montparnasse finally labeled their relationships as boyfriends which included a few fancy dates, Montparnasse preparing breakfast for Jehan and Jehan reading their poems to Montparnasse.

Jehan also introduced Montparnasse to their friends at ABC so they could have their own judgements of Montparnasse and not some campus gossip. Some of them did not like him initially due to his occupation but with time, they realized how much Jehan loved him and how good they both were for each other and accept him.

Enjolras actually gave the “if you hurt our Jehan, you’ll pay for it” speech but Montparnasse laughed at him due to the fact that Enjolras was very short and very blond. However, Bahorel who is a kick-box trainee and Feuilly, who is naturally very tall and big backed Enjolras up and Montparnasse just gave up.

Jehan also apologized to Grantaire for shutting him out and Grantaire apologized back for pushing too hard on Jehan. This making up process followed a few hours of cuddling on Jehan’s bed and Jehan badly drawing Disney characters and Grantaire guessing them. They couldn’t wait until Sunday to be silly.

Things were shaping up to be pretty odd, but that was how Jehan did things anyway. They still struggled to get out of the bed or catch up with their assignments, but this time there was Montparnasse, Grantaire and rest of the ABC by their side.

i actually cried after everyone’s nice comments and tags on yesterday’s episode because i never expected them!! so thank you if you reblogged/tagged/commented, i appreciate them all so much

#this turned out to be the longest of them all #i actually didnt know what to write for this prompt for a loooong while #but then i started writing and i wanted to add more and more amis #but i had to stop at some point #writing jehan's pov felt a little weird tho #im p sure this is v ooc #jehanparnasse 2017 #jehan prouvaire #montparnasse #les mis #les miserables #my writing

[fatesought]

Arno centric wishlist if anyone wants to distract me from end game emotions

AU where the de la Serre family ends up using Arno as a mole within the Assassin ranks (I think my old hc about this was accidentally deleted in the reboot unfortunately)

Modern threads, with or without the context of the Brotherhood, where Arno has to team up with a supervillain (or worse, superhero and risk exposing himself) or else they’re both going to get caught. 

Young, assassin Arno in waaay over his head his criminals that are out of his league. 

Someone pieced together that Arno is an assassin and decides to call him out on it (motives up to you). Arno proceeding to drag them kicking and screaming to the Mentors instead of killing them, under the premise that they could use a good informant. Leaving the threats of violence up to them. BONUS: modern setting, your muse filmed Arno doing something sketchy on their phone as evidence. 

BONUS BONUS: his plan backfires and he ends up with an apprentice of his own. 

We met doing laundry at 3AM, “waIT IS THAT BLOOD” / “I CAN EXPLAIN” plot like from the one post I can’t find. 

Dread Pirate Roberts and Westley-esque plot. You know how Westley recalls the captain locking him away each night saying, 'Good night, Westley. Good work. Sleep well. I'll most likely kill you in the morning’? Gimme someone capturing Arno and he manages to talk them out of killing him (or handing him over to the authorities, depending on your character) for the evening. They keep running into each other and while one of them should get rid of the other somehow, it’s really to their benefit to keep a criminal with a high sense of morality on the streets. Possibly compatible to the team up plotbunny. 

Les Miserables gets it’s own category because bitter revolutionaries can be dropped into either timeline...

Les mis crossovers. please. Especially with that easter egg mission about the Thénardiers and Cosette Colette being an informant for the Brotherhood. 

The possibility for Arno to have been childhood friends with someone like Marius or Enjolras and we can have my favorite, “look at us now” / “what the hell happened to you?” moment

tbh he also has the perfect excuse to get his ass handed to him by Grantaire when he’s younger and still a de la Serre servant, so. 

Montparnasse!! Gimme the two boys at total opposite ends of the career criminal spectrum and at each other’s throats. 

Listen I could probably think of something for every character if you gimme enough time. 

#♕ WISHLIST #long post whoops

[toosicktoocare]

Okay, but I really love this prompt!

Enjolras shoved past students as he eagerly made his way to Grantaire’s locker. The latter had texted “Sick. Kill me.” that morning, and Enjolras had thought for sure that Grantaire would stay home, but Courfeyrac had informed him that Grantaire’s parents never let him stay home.

Needless to say, Enjolras was on edge, and when he finally spotted the brunet, his nerves shot forward.

Grantaire was leaning his back against his locker with his arms crossed tightly over his chest as strong shivers wracked his slender frame, and even from a distance, Enjolras could see the crimson spots coloring Grantaire’s pale cheeks.

“R,” he breathed out as he closed the distance, and Grantaire blinked tiredly at him.

“Hey,” Grantaire rasped out, only to double over into a coughing fit that left Enjolras wincing.

“R, you can’t be here. You need to be in bed,” Enjolras pressed, rubbing a gentle hand in small circles over Grantaire’s back as the latter struggled to catch his breath.

“Can’t,” Grantaire wheezed out in between coughs. “Parents won’t let me.”

Enjolras frowned just as Grantaire straightened up and rubbed gingerly at his throat. “Pardon my language,” he started, “but fuck your parents.”

Grantaire’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and despite feeling like hell, he smiled. “You never cease to surprise me, Enj.” He said, coughing lightly into his fist.

Enjolras shook his head before reaching up to cup Grantaire’s cheek. The heat coating his hand was alarming, and his frown deepened. “You’re running a fever,” he said sharply, sliding his hand up to Grantaire’s forehead to confirm.

“Have been since last night,” Grantaire informed, and Enjolras narrowed his eyes.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I kept you on the phone for hours!” Enjolras shouted, hands flailing about wildly.

“I like listening to you talk,” Grantaire answered easily, and Enjolras sighed in response.

“How are you going to make it through the entire day?” Enjolras questioned carefully just as students began to pile into their classrooms.

“I’ll manage,” Grantaire answered, but even as he said it, he staggered when he pushed off the locker, and Enjolras’s worry only grew as he reached out to steady him.

“I don’t like this, R,” Enjolras said as he snaked an arm around Grantaire’s waist. “You can barely stand on your own. I don’t want to leave you.”

“You can’t exactly go to all my classes with me,” Grantaire said, and Enjolras froze, eyes bright and determined.

*****

“Enjolras,” Mr. Valjean said in surprise as Enjolras followed Grantaire, keeping one hand on the small of the brunet’s back, to the back of the classroom. “I’m pleased to see your face in my classroom once more, but don’t you have your own class to go to?”

Grantaire flopped heavily into the only remaining seat, so Enjolras sat down on the floor beside Grantaire’s desk.

“I’m going to stay with Grantaire today,” Enjolras answered as he dug around in his backpack for his science book.

“All day?”

Enjolras looked up to see Mr. Valjean standing above him with his head tilted in question.

“Yes.” Enjolras said slowly, eyes narrowed as if daring Mr. Valjean to argue.

Instead, Mr. Valjean turned toward Grantaire with raised brows.

“He thinks he needs to stay with me because I’m sick.” Grantaire answered before turning his head away to cough harshly into the crook of his elbow.

On instinct, Enjolras placed a gentle hand on Grantaire’s leg as the latter coughed.

“Well, you certainly don’t sound well. Shouldn’t you be home?”

“And miss a riveting history lesson about the one and only Alexander Hamilton? I think not, sir.” 

Mr. Valjean seemed to contemplate this for a second before starting toward the front of the room while rolling his eyes. “If you need to go to the nurse, go. You don’t have to ask.”

Grantaire nodded just as Mr. Valjean called for the class to open their history books. Enjolras was quick to hand the book to Grantaire with a soft smile, and he spent the rest of the class leaning against Grantaire’s leg and reading for the science class he was currently missing.

*****

“I can’t believe you went to all of R’s classes,” Courfeyrac said at Enjolras’s locker after last bell. “I’m pretty sure I heard a group of freshman girls cooing when Cosette told them.”

Enjolras shrugged out of his jacket just as Grantaire staggered over to him from his own locker. He draped the deep red jacket over Grantaire’s black hoodie, and Grantaire shot him a thankful look.

“Javert’s not happy with you,” Combeferre said as he walked up to the three.

“I don’t really care,” Enjolras said as he brushed the back of his hand against Grantaire’s cheek, frowning hard. The brunet’s temperature felt higher than it had this morning, and if his near constant shivering and glazed eyes were anything to go by, Enjolras would say it had definitely gotten worse.  

“He’s going to Fantine to see about having you suspended.”

“What the hell?” Grantaire asked sharply, but his raised voice left him turning away as a coughing fit wracked his body.

“Easy, R.” Enjolras whispered, voice laced with concern. He placed steady hands on the brunet’s back but turned his attention to Combeferre. “He can do whatever he feels necessary. I don’t care.”

Courfeyrac laughed and shook his head. “You are something else, Enjolras. Don’t worry, though. Fantine loves you, and Combeferre and I will go and explain your situation.”

“Just get Grantaire home,” Combeferre said as he watched Grantaire with worried eyes.

Enjolras nodded, and Combeferre and Courfeyrac left toward the front office. He turned back to Grantaire, who was leaning heavily against the lockers.

“I’m taking you back to my house,” Enjolras said, leaving no room for argument in his tone, but to his surprise, Grantaire didn’t argue in the slightest.

Enjolras wrapped an arm around Grantaire’s waist, and the two started towards the school’s exit.

#les mis #les amis #sickfic #enjoltaire #prompt #exr #e/r #barricade boys #fricking loved writing this #ya'll are killing it with the les mis prompts i swear tg #my writing #my les mis writing

[somuchbetterthanthat]

AU in which Les Amis find themselves in Middle Earth (or the HP wizarding world), assuming there's no language barrier? :)

I wish I could do Middle Earth because it sounds so interesting, but alas I am merely a tourist in Lord of the Rings Fandom, and I’d be too scared of getting everything wrong. I decided to go with HP instead; I couldn’t quite figure out how to just make them stumbled into the world, though, so… I… improvised. Also there is a lot of cosette and marius here, sorry……..

So, in this universe, Marius met Cosette during the summer, and cried for her during the rest of the year because she seemed to have mysteriously vanished; It’s only when Cosette turns eighteen (i’m making her slightly older here, bear with me, this is the french system), that Marius meets her again, and that they have a beautiful lovely time in may. Why? Because Cosette’s a witch, and went to Beauxbâtons (Fauchelevent, an old half-blood wizard, managed to sneak muggle Valjean in Beauxbâtons as help. How, why? All you need to know is that, in another more british life, Fauchelevent might as well has been a Slytherin).  

Now, the standard canon-era things happen, except for the fact that when Cosette realizes her dad and Marius went to the barricades, in the middle of the night, she freaks out, apparates near the fight, in her nightgown mind you, and proceed to break the magic secrecy thing pretty badly by saving everyone. Somehow. Marius would be mad if he knew people had seen his darling Cosette in a nightdress, but then again let’s say Marius is already knocked out at this point for plot reasons. That’s how les amis end up finding out about the magic world, and it’s a pretty big cultural shock…. 

Let’s not pretend one second Combeferre doesn’t get ALL WIDE EYES AND ALMOST STOP BREATHING FROM WONDER FOR A MINUTE. He’s so amazed he does not feel any pain as he watches Cosette’s aunt, Sister Simplice, make sure he doesn’t die from the bayonet wound on his side with a wood stick (”a wand”). Since Cosette arrived just as they were going to kill Jean Prouvaire, or something, Prouvaire decreets he’s gone in the spirits world, and calls Cosette ‘My Lady’, which would charm Cosette, if she and Courfeyrac weren’t too busy fretting over Marius’s life to really care about anything else. In fact, Courfeyrac only ask about magic to see if it can save Marius, since it has totally saved Bahorel.

After that first night, Cosette and Valjean think they’ll have to deal with the consequences of the barricades breach but - turns out that most wizards of the time are already very much Done with the Muggle kings and such, and tend toward a Republican government. So, they erase most people’s memories, but they decide to keep les amis on their side, because what the hell - might as well join force to calm down all the political french shit happening. Les amis, in fact, spend months being amazed by how much more progressive wizards society seem to be, until they learn how people like Cosette - a magic child born of muggle parents - are treated and realize that, deep down, wizard society is also very very backward. 

Magic hits Grantaire very, very hard. Like, in another life, faith was born in him as he woke up at the barricades. In this life, he wakes up to a world of magic, his friends alive, and his tentative faith gets into a bad turmoil of emotions. He can’t deny it, though. It’s there, right in front of his eyes - a whole new world. He tells his friends, “it’s not believing when it’s as real as a glass of wine” laughing, but some helpful or teasing wizard change his wine into water, and nobody notices the vulnerable, disturbed flinch of R at that moment, apart from Enjolras, who, calmly, decides that maybe R is ready to hear him, and to let him help him without expecting him to do all the believing work for two.

(Bonus: Marius finally gets why his father’s things included an old wand, and that his letter, among telling him he was a baron, should look for Thénardier, etc. said he should also look ‘for magic in this world’. Also explains why Marius’s grandfather and aunt looked so PLEASED on his eleventh birthday when no letter came - despite Marius saying in a shy voice he never got letters anyway.)

#more Cosette and marius than les amis sorry sorry #i should have a proper headcanon tag #les amis #Les Misérables