capable of being terrible

anonymous asked:

i really appreciate that you reblogged that post saying how women can be abusive. i always hear people talking about how abusive men can be but i dont see enough people bringing to light issues caused by abusive women. as a feminist i KNOW its very true especially since one of the most abusive people i know is my mother. so i absolutely cant stand when people, especially other feminists, act as if women arent capable of being terrible humans and the only people who can be monsters are men.

Amen, abuse from either gender is atrocious and more people need to pay attention to that fact. 

but what if when enjolras and grantaire first meet grantaire is black out drunk and enjolras sees the edges of his soulmates tattoo, and realises it matched up with his (grantaire has ‘dont call me beautiful’ and enjolras has ‘hey beautiful’).

and as he looks at his supposed soulmate in disgust, he doesnt see how he could be in love with someone that can get this drunk, he makes the split second decision to wake him up. 

when grantaire wakes up he smiles softly at enjolras, with eyes filled with something akin to awe, mixed with lust, maybe, and he says ‘hey beautiful’ and enjolras can feel his heart thudding heavily in his chest.

he opens his mouths and he carefully spits out his words, holding the top of his arm, where the tattoo is. and he says:

'the cafe is closing'

10

Enjolras … was a charming young man, capable of being terrible.”
“Combeferre, perhaps, preferred the pure radiance of the beautiful to the flaming glory of the sublime.”
“Jean Prouvaire was addicted to love.”
“Feuilly … had one thought only, to deliver the world from its bonds.”
“Courfeyrac … had all the qualities of a centre – roundness and radiance.”
“Bahorel was … always ready to break a flagstone, then tear up a street, then demolish a government, to see the effect it made.”
“Bossuet … took bad luck with serenity and smiled at the vexations of fate like one who hears a jest.”
“Joly was a young hypochondriac. What he had learned from medicine was to be a patient rather than a physician … Nonetheless, the gayest of all.”
“Grantaire … was particularly ugly … but Grantaire’s self-esteem was not disconcerted. He stared tenderly at every woman, appearing to say about all of them: If only I wanted to.”


“Enjolras was the chief, Combeferre was the guide, Courfeyrac was the centre.

—  Victor Hugo, Les Miserables, Book Four, The Friends of the ABC 

I just really need aaron tveit to play a villain: the charm and charisma of the ultimate boy-next-door, an easy laugh and pretty face, capable of committing the most atrocious of crimes and not feeling an ounce of guilt

  • Bang Yongguk
  • BAP Attack Episode 4
Play

We BAP have come to this high place and drawn a little bigger dream. We are waiting for the day we change the world with our music, and the day our music is introduced to the whole world. And we are running towards that day. Before we debuted, many people have said that those words, a rookie’s ambitious spirit, are just idealized. Too many people thought that way. However, we are making them come true one by one.

At this high place, you can’t see the stars, right? But the stars right now are very beautiful.Uh? Ha~ Awesome. I have found one. That star you see there, until we become one like that, I want to make good music, become a good person, to become a musician who would inspire others to embrace their own dreams.

Thank you.

-Bang Yongguk, BAP Attack Episode 4

"[Enjolras] was a charming young man, capable of being terrible. He was angelically beautiful. He was Antinous, wild. You would have said, seeing the thoughtful reflection of his eye, that he had already, in some preceding existence, been through the revolutionary apocalypse. He knew its tradition like an eyewitness."

myladyoracle replied to your post “It’s time for some prompt drabbles!”

Maybe something like: E/R, Persephone and Hades AU, but with Enjolras as Hades? That idea has been floating around in my brain, make what you will of it! :) Thanks for being wonderful, your stories always make me smile.

(OH MY GOD ARE YOU KIDDING MEEEEE, I have been planning a Hades/Persephone AU for ages, I am so excited by this promptttttt.)

"Let the world burn," Enjolras says, and his smile is cold and terrible. "Let the crops wither and the seeds rot, what do we care. Your mother holds no dominion down here, and men may feast on asphodel when they’ve come to join us." He pulls Grantaire in with an iron grip on his wrist, bends his head and breathes against the hair at his crown. "What do we care if men die? They will all come to our realms eventually."

Grantaire lifts his head. It tips his face up, brings it very close to Enjolras’s. His breath skates across Grantaire’s skin, warm, coming a little fast. Grantaire’s mother is closing in on them, has rallied half of the rest of the pantheon by threatening the crops and the men who need them to survive. Grantaire curves the hand that Enjolras isn’t holding around the back of his neck and rises up on his toes to kiss him hard.

"I care," he says as he sinks back down onto his heels, and watches the victory on Enjolras’s face turn to fury.

"We are wed," he snarls. "You’re mine. Your mother would take you from me and never let you return. And you are deathless.” He lifts a hand and skates his thumb across Grantaire’s cheek. “Were you a mortal man, I’d content myself to wait until you’d lived your life and returned to my realms at the end of it. But gods don’t die, and your mother will never allow you to return, once she has you home.”

He doesn’t say And I’d miss you. He doesn’t have to.

"There’s another way," Grantaire says, and slips in close again. Enjolras bends as though he’s expecting another kiss, and Grantaire slips his hand into the pocket of Enjolras’s coat, and pulls out the pomegranate there.

Enjolras’s eyes burn as Grantaire splits the pomegranate open. Juice spills over his fingers and runs down his arms, stains the edge of his sleeves. Grantaire pries a handful of seeds from the fruit, then lets the two halves drop. Enjolras’s grip would be tight enough to bruise, were Grantaire not as immortal as he.

He eats the seeds, one at a time, and when he’s finished Enjolras takes both his wrists. He kisses his red-stained fingers, kisses the trails up his arms, kisses his mouth.

Grantaire wraps his arms around Enjolras’s neck and clasps him close. “Let her come,” he says. “Let her take me. Now, she cannot keep me.” He pulls back, tips Enjolras’s face up with fingers that leave stains along his jaw. He presses their brows together and holds on with all his strength. “I’ll come back. I’ll always come back.”

Enjolras really interests me as a character because he’s all charm and violence, and in our culture we tend to link that with sexuality? Or rather, sensuality. But though Enjolras is always described as objectively beautiful it’s never a kind of self-aware beauty; he’s “the marble lover of Liberty”, he is beautiful as a statue is beautiful; he averts his eyes from women, he reacts to confessions of love with “a cold, dismissive stare, like the opening of an abyss” and the only kisses he ever bestows in his life are on the corpse of an old man.

And then actually, looking at it, Enjolras isn’t charming. He doesn’t flatter or seek to please, he’s blunt, he’s harsh, he’s cold, he rarely smiles; he doesn’t seduce anyone to his cause, he pulls people to him through the force of his own belief; he’s not pleasant to be around, but he is magnetic.

And while he takes no pleasure in violence (when he shoots the drunken revolutionary, he announces that by doing so he has sentenced himself as well; and when he kills the young gunner he does so while crying) he is very good at it and understands its necessity. He isn’t cruel, (he even brings Javert water when he’s tied up), but he’s not kind either (he doesn’t bother finding food for the men on the barricades because he knows they’ll be dead in a few hours). Every single atom of his being is dedicated to the Revolution; there isn’t room for anything else. We don’t see his passion until he talks about the Republic.

I guess what I’m trying to say here that Enjolras as a character represents an ideal we’re not familiar with in modern popular culture? When I think “rebel leader” I’m not gonna lie, my mind immediately leaps to Lucifer, and all the connotations that go with that. I’m trying to think of a leader our popular culture who I can equate to Enjolras and I just can’t.

I don’t know, it’s late and I’m just musing aloud here. Please disagree with me on this, I’d love to hear some thoughts.

I read a story about obsession and psychosis the other day that was really fucking fantastic, and, quite literally, the second or third sentence had me hooked, so I had to sketch it out really quickly.  So, here you have it, a scene from Capable of Being Terrible.

Unfortunately, I have misplaced my scanner and don’t have Illustrator installed in this laptop, so I can’t clean this mess up.

gaymergirls asked:

enjolras!

melissa asked for this too <3 modern AU enjolras obvi

  • he smells like burnt coffee and soapy water, or like pen ink if he’s been writing. sometimes he smells like paint and turpentine, and he can’t decide if that makes him want to smile or wrinkle his nose
  • when he’s actually dead asleep, he’s fine - flat on his back, corpse-style, he could sleep through anything. it’s the getting to sleep that’s the problem. his thoughts tend to race, and every time he starts to doze off he remembers something that he has to do URGENTLY LIKE RIGHT NOW, so he has a hard time getting a full night’s rest
  • hmmmm not really a music person. he enjoys courfeyrac’s karaoke version of “hey ma” only because it inevitably results in the entire gang shouting the chorus response lines, which he can write off as a team building exercise. he enjoys pretending that he doesn’t enjoy listening to grantaire sing 90s hits in the shower. other than that, nah. he’d much rather get indignant listening to talk radio.
  • 0.00000 seconds. his morning routine is fast fast fast and filled with multitasking, like brushing his teeth while checking his e-mail and drinking coffee while he makes the bed one-handed (it was hard at first, but he’s gotten really good at it). he’s usually out the door ten minutes before he needs to be
  • seashells, oddly enough. his family went to the beach a lot when he was young, and he spent hours in the surf looking for the best shells. he has a box of them in a back corner his closet, and while he doesn’t go out to the shore nearly as much now, obviously, he still takes the time to find a shell for his weird little collection when he does go
  • right-handed, which is good, because he’s always writing things down in his spiral notebooks
  • i think he’s respectful of other people’s beliefs, but that he himself is not a religious person. he was not raised religious and he’s never felt any pull towards it.
  • sport hmmmmm. baseball, maybe? he and combeferre go to games and decompress i think
  • historical stuff, whatever that happens to be for the destination in question. he gets into fights with tour guides a lot because he’s always disputing facts with them
  • he likes the weather to be 72 and sunny with a light breeze because it means that people will show up at rallies and demonstrations. very practical and unromantic, but. you know. enjolras.
  • he doesn’t like needles very much
  • guess your age because they always say he’s like 17 #babyface