eleven at night and Courfeyrac and Bahorel are singing. Houcheloup has given up
on telling them not to by now. The Musain is empty apart from them anyway. That
tends to happen when they come in as a group.
is sprawled out on one of the leather couches with Enjolras in his arms. He is
almost used to this by now. Almost.
watching his friends perform with a happy smile diffused over his face.
smiles too and closes his eyes for a moment. He is completely comfortable, apart
from Enjolras’ hair tickling his face and he leaves that because the idea that that could be his only problem at any
given moment is as hilarious as it is ridiculous. Enjolras mumbles something he
can’t quite hear and he opens his eyes again. “Hm?” he hums.
know if Feuilly is still coming?” Enjolras repeats.
he is on his way,” Grantaire replies.
this time, is sleepily dancing and swaying to Bahorel’s guitar play. That is
quite a feat, because it is not a song that encourages gentle swaying.
complete then,” Enjolras says approvingly.
glances to a similar couch where Joly and Bossuet are sitting with a very
tired, but triumphant Marius, who just got through an infamous law exam.
Bossuet is still complimenting him.
much,” Grantaire hums.
shifts his weight and cuddles into Grantaire a little more. He grins, taking
the hint and beginning to gently stroke Enjolras’ hair. Enjolras makes what he
would describe as ‘an appreciative sound’, but that everyone else calls ‘that
purring thing Enj does’. Grantaire doesn’t call it anything, he just considers
it his favourite sound in the world right now. He makes eye contact with
Combeferre over the top of Enjolras’ head and grins. Combeferre rolls his eyes
and looks away with a smile.
“Want me to
wake you when Feuilly arrives?” Grantaire teases.
falling asleep,” Enjolras protests and he tries to turn around in Grantaire’s
arms to give him an indignant look.
tightens the arm he has around Enjolras’ waist. “No, stay,” he whines.
Five Times Enjolras Almost Proposed to Grantaire, and Twice He Did
@ionlyrunfromshame, your wish is my command. Established ExR, Modern AU, fluffy as fluffy can be.
Grantaire bounced on the balls of his feet, barely able to contain his excitement as the line into the Louvre inched forward. “So I know I’ve said it like a bajillion times, but I really appreciate you coming here with me.”
“It’s not like it’s a hardship for me to spend time with you on our vacation to Paris,” Enjolras said, amused. “I may not be as into art as you, but there’s some great pieces in the Louvre – Delacroix’s Liberty Leading the People; Meissonier’s The Barricade, rue de la Mortellerie, June 1848; Vien’s The Triumph of the Republic…I could go on.”
Rolling his eyes good-naturedly, Grantaire looped his arm through Enjolras’s and leaned his head against his shoulder. “Naturally, I should have guessed where your interest would lie. Just promise me you’re not going to pull a Bastille reaction and start crying.”
Enjolras scowled at him. “Look, it was our first night in Paris, I had had a bit too much wine at your insistence, I would remind you, and it’s an emotional part of history.”
Grantaire flops face down on his sofa when he gets home from his opening shift at the café. You would think that getting up at 5 to open wouldn’t be that bad when you get free coffee but it is still 5am no matter how much glorious caffeine you have. Urchin jumps on his back and begins to do her odd kneading thing with her paws which would be almost sweet if she didn’t use her claws while she did it.
“Ok ok I get it you’re hungry” he grumbles slowly standing up so the cat can adjust so she’s perched on his shoulder. She wasn’t what you’d call a pretty cat with her sooty grey coat and missing ear but he had begrudgingly fallen in love with her after Jehan had asked him to watch the poor stray while he tried to find a home for it, and that was three years ago. After he fed her he managed to take his shoes off and collapse on his bed for a well-deserved nap when his phone buzzed in his pocket. He groaned but reached for it because knowing his friends someone was in jail.
Summary: No one usually pays you any attention when you’re in the shadow of your older sisters, but all that changes when you manage to slip away from them to listen to the young revolutionaries shouting in the square
A/N: I love this request! It’s slightly inspired by the Schuyler sisters, because the reader is a bit like Peggy (but there’re also some Angelica vibes there?). I called the reader’s sisters Adrienne and Colette by the way. Enjoy reading, and please leave feedback!
Being with Enjolras was easier, Grantaire had
found, than just being around him.
And not just because he didn’t have the whole ‘unrequited feelings’ thing to
deal with now. No, interacting with him was just a lot easier now he had the
option to pull Enjolras into a hug instead of saying something. Everybody
agreed about that actually. When they had gotten together, Courfeyrac had told
Grantaire that he was now the designated source of cuddles for Enjolras. Grantaire
hadn’t really paid attention to that because one, he had just gotten together
with the man he’d been in love with for over a year, and two, he and Enjolras
had talked about what a romantic relationship between the two of them would
involve and Enjolras had been absolutely clear that cuddling would be very
however, Grantaire has learned that being Enjolras’ “designated source of
cuddles” is as much for the benefit of the rest of the group as it is for his
and even Enjolras’ benefit…
Courfeyrac exclaims when he steps into the Musain. “You, Enjolras, couch, now.”
Courf,” Grantaire says sarcastically. “Don’t I get a minute to take my coat
wearing a coat,” Courfeyrac points out. “Now get to holding my best friend.”
I wrote something else!! I feel alive again. I thought I’d share it on here but it’s posted on my ao3
Grantaire was little more than a myth to Enjolras. Almost all of his friends knew him.
Bahorel met him during a bar fight; Jehan met him at a poetry reading; Joly, Bossuet, and Musichetta had been friends with him since high school; and Feuilly worked at a candle store with him for a while.
The point is, Grantaire had started to intrude on Enjolras’ life a long time ago, and he was constantly hearing stories of his escapades (punching a cop in the face for harassing Jehan and then actually escaping the police, accidentally acquiring a sugar daddy and using his money to pay for pole-dancing lessons, living in a random frat house for two weeks before anyone realized).
It didn’t exactly paint a portrait of what to expect when Enjolras first meets him. To Enjolras, although he’s erratic, Grantaire seems to be a person worth being friends with, if the way Jehan’s eyes like up when they speak of him is anything to go by.
Bahorel’s shouting them all drinks at the Corinth because he finally gave up on law and decided to pursue his dreams of being a chef, and when Enjolras hears that Grantaire will be there he decides to finally sate his curiosity.
There’s a large uproar, mainly Bahorel’s booming voice, when Enjolras and Combeferre walk in, and Enjolras gives his friends a polite smile. There’s people he doesn’t know - a girl with dark hair and hungry eyes, a man wearing inappropriately-fashionable clothes and a coldly happy expression, and another man, drinking from a bottle and talking with Feuilly, his cheeks and ears red from the warmth of the bar, his black hair curly.
“That must be Grantaire,” Combeferre points out mildly as they near their friends.
“I’m going to introduce myself,” Enjolras announces, watching and trying to match the man to the legend. He’s certainly lively, laughing joyously at whatever Feuilly says.
(I also got an E/R “Faery AU” prompt from an anon, so I’m rolling these up into one!)
“You saved my life,” says the strange man into the sudden silence. “I owe you a debt.”
Enjolras shakes his head immediately. “You owe me nothing. I’m only glad that I was here to get you out of the way in time.”
The man steps out of the shadows, and suddenly he looks much less human. “I owe you a debt,” he says again, and this time Enjolras knows what it means, and knows to his bones what the terror on the man’s face means. “You can call me R to my face, but if you need me, if you want me to pay the debt, call for Grantaire.”
WIP - Snowballs and Sheer Luck (Lin-Manuel x Reader)
Summary: You got hit with a snowball out of the blue and universal law states that you must return fire
Word Count: 1,420
A/N: I wrote this ages ago (during that one snowstorm, this was actually the original snowfic I wrote) and then abandoned it. But here’s an abandoned fic for everyone who was so kind and so understanding about me being MIA. _____________________________
“Fuck you, man! I have to meet with Sherry and Greg still. Some of us have to be responsible adults!” Tommy laughed at Lin who had insisted on tagging along as Tommy walked to this meeting. He also insisted on detouring through the park to appreciate the large patches of untouched snow and Tommy was always one to oblige his more romantic-minded friend.
It was always a given to budget more time than usual when Lin tagged along on commutes, but the snow made it ten times worse. Lin had decided that his source of entertainment during their journey was to launch snowballs at Tommy, making himself burst into a fit of laughter every time one met his target. When Tommy had agreed to let Lin join him on his trek through the snowy city he had also accepted the possibility that he would not reach the meeting with his clothes as dry as when he left for it. But that did not mean that he appreciated Lin’s attack.
“You’re gonna be late anyways, might as well let me have my fun” Lin’s laughter rang through the park before he bent down to pack another snowball - this one larger than all the others.
An excerpt from a longer Enjoltaire “get together” slash “Enj has anxiety” fic that will probably never see the light of day
⚠️: Panic attack
Enjolras presses the tip of his tongue against his teeth and counts - 1 2 3 in, 1 2 3 4 hold, 1 2 3 4 5 out. And repeat. And repeat. And repeat. And -
“Are you okay?”
Enjolras jolts his head up. Is he okay? Enjolras wants to snort.
Oh sure. Fine. Just - losing his mind on the subway but he’s fine. 1 2 3 in. Everything will be okay. 1 2 3 4 hold -
“Hey,” the guy, the one who spoke before, moves closer. “Are you, uh. You look like you might pass out.”
Enjolras tries to focus. Green eyes and a frown, brown leather, and curls and - breathe Enjolras, you know how to breathe, it’s easy, in and out and in and out and
“Maybe you should sit down?” The guy says, like it’s a question.
“I should ..?” Enjolras breaks through the panic for a moment and realizes he’s hunched over, “Yeah, yes - okay.”
He sits heavily and tries to calm down. He can’t stop his breath from stuttering. He rips off his scarf, and his fingers scrape against his neck. Fuck, it’s hot. And loud.
The R train screeches through the tunnel, metal on metal, a high, shrill noise that cuts the air.
Enjolras flinches and a few people stare openly. His whole body must have jerked but he can’t tell, he’s never, fuck, he’s never had this happen underground before.
“Hey are you..having a panic attack?” The guys looms over him.
Enjolras nods tightly. Yes, he thinks, I’m having a panic attack. He’s having a panic attack and Combeferre is laying in the hospital and now he’s stuck on the subway, left trying to recycle stale air when he can barely unclench his teeth.
“Okay, that’s okay.” The guys says. “Do you know where you are?”
“Yes,” Enjolras grits out. He doesn’t want attention, he wants fresh air, and a cell signal. Fuck; what if someone tries to call him and they can’t get through. It’ll go straight to voicemail. What if there were complications and now Combeferre is - is - no, he can’t go there.
“Cool, that’s good” the guy sits next to Enjolras.
Enjolras takes a shuddering breath in and tries to hold it. Instead, he’s left with small gasps that scrape against the back of his throat.
“Can I touch you?”
Enjolras tenses - he doesn’t like being touched. But touch is what helps ground him, and some small scrap of logic left in him outweighs pride. Enjolras nods.
“I’m just going to take your hand, that cool?” Enjolras doesn’t respond but the guy must see some affirmation because he takes Enjolras’ arm and guides a hand to his chest. “Cool, that’s great, can you try to match your breath to mine?”
The guy takes a deep exaggerated breath in, and then exhales slowly. Enjolras tries to match. They sit together and the train inches along.
A few stops go by and Enjolras can finally breathe enough to feel the low ache of shame taking up space against his ribs.
“I’m okay now,” Enjolras says, and his voice is steadier than before.
“You’re shaking,” the guys says, but releases Enjolras’ hand.
“Yeah I know how that goes.”
They sit in silence. The train doors open, and a few people step in.
“Thank you,” Enjolras says, and meets a pair of vivid and searching eyes.
“Hey sure, glad I could help.” The guy glances at him, sidelong. “Are you…okay?”
“Yes,” Enjolras says, shoving his hands in his pockets. “they’ll stop shaking in a second.”
“I kind of meant - did something happen?”
Enjolras fidgets. He doesn’t know how to answer. What Enjolras can’t do, or at least, what Enjolras can’t do well, is talk about his feelings. He’d rather choke on anxiety than share it. On the best days, he can pack anxieties into a backpack, shoving guilt and grief deep inside. On the worst days, the weight of it all slumps his shoulders so much that his back might break.
“My best friend is in the hospital.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.”
Enjolras nods once, and searches the guy’s face. There’s no pity there. His forehead is scrunched up and his lips pursed, he looks concerned - maybe a little confused. Enjolras’ shoulders drop.
“A taxi side-swiped his bike. He hit his head. They’re not sure..”
“Fuck. Fuck, man I’m sorry. Really.”
“Thanks,” Enjolras says. He means it.
They ride in silence for a little longer.
“My stops next,” the guy says.
“Thank you,” Enjolras gives the most genuine smile he can muster.
“I - uh. I’m Grantaire. By the way.”
The train screeches loudly again and then shudders to a stop. Their knees brush and Grantaire stands up.
“Bye, I guess” he says. “Take care of yourself.”
He walks off just as the doors close.
Enjolras takes a deep breath. And then another, and another, and watches through the subway window stained with fingerprints as a head of dark, curly hair gets swallowed into the crowd.
What would one have to do to get more dragon Enjolras and Grantaire? I can offer you my second born cuz I think I promised my first born to someone already
[Do not offer me your children, I have a problem with wanting to adopt everything and everyone as it is. But thank you! And here is some more…]
Combeferre is pleased with the attic he rents
in one if the bigger houses in the town. He’s lived there for a while now and
it suits him perfectly. Mrs Houcheloup is a kind landlady and even though
Combeferre is sure she knows about his condition she never feels the need to
bring it up. She clearly hasn’t told the neighbours either. “Such a
hardworking young man,” he has overheard them saying. He must never take a
day off, you only ever see him out and about in the evening.“
There is a knock at his door and Combeferre
gets up from his desk with a smile. Living here has been even more pleasant
since Enjolras and his parents moved to town. But Combeferre really hadn’t
suggested their coming here for selfish reasons. The people in this little
seaside town are particularly tolerant of occult species, it’s really a much
better environment for his young friend.
“Good evening,” he says, opening the door
for Enjolras. “Come in.”
“Likewise and thank you,” Enjolras
replies, stepping inside and shrugging off his coat.
“Tea?” Combeferre offers.
“Please,” Enjolras smiles.
Combeferre puts the kettle on and gives him an
enquiring look. “You’re looking particularly sun-kissed today.”
“I spend a lot of time outside
lately,” Enjolras says happily.
Combeferre smiles. He still misses the sun, but
he knows his friend hasn’t been sunbathing. “You spend a lot of time at
the beach, you mean,” he says amusedly.
Enjolras makes a huffing sound, but it’s
followed immediately by a squeak as a shower of sparks spills from his lips.
“Damn!” He blurts, swatting them out of the air before they get the
chance to reach the piles of old books Combeferre has lying all around.
Well, that is unusual. Combeferre gives Enjolras
a bemused look. “Has that been happening a lot?” he asks curiously.
“I don’t know what’s wrong,” Enjolras
says, cheeks burning with embarrassment. “It’s like being fourteen
again!” He pulls a face.
“That isn’t that long ago,” Combeferre
points out with a grin.
“Shut up,” Enjolras grumbles, but
he’s already laughing slightly at himself.
Combeferre laughs affectionately. He is forever
grateful that he wasn’t turned at that age. That would have been an ordeal. Suddenly a thought
occurs to him. He puts down Enjolras’ cup of tea and clears his throat.
“So you’ve been sparking again, but only recently.”
“Yes,” Enjolras sighs uncomfortably.
“And it happens at random?”
Combeferre asks, in as neutral a tone of voice as he can command.
“Mostly when I’m outside luckily,” he
Combeferre’s mouth twitches. “Could I
suggest a possible reason?” he asks, trying very hard to keep from
“Please!” Enjolras says without
hesitation. “Your advice usually helps a lot.”
“Let me just test something,” Combeferre
says. He reconsiders and adds: “Would you mind standing over the sink
while I do?”
Obediently Enjolras comes to stand by the sink,
lowering his head a little just in case.
Combeferre leans on the counter thoughtfully,
waits for a moment and then says nonchalantly: “So, tell me about Grantaire.”
“What about him?” A veritable shower
of sparks lands in the sink. “Oh!” Enjolras gasps and then, turning
to Combeferre with a look of mild horror and great embarrassment: “Oh…”
“Well,” Combeferre laughs and he
hands Enjolras his tea. He had rather suspected his friend was a little more
fond of the selkie than he was letting on, but he hadn’t counted on it having
this kind of effect. It makes a certain amount of sense though. Dragon fire is
very much tied to emotion and emotions are rather hard to control if you
haven’t realised your having them yet. Which, judging from Enjolras face, seems
to have been the case here. “Why don’t we go sit outside for a while?” he
suggests smilingly. “You don’t have to tell me about Grantaire of course, but I
have been told talking often helps to…sort things out.”
Enjolras swallows, cheeks as red as the
smattering of scales under his eyes. “Uh, yeah,” he says unsteadily.
“Yeah… That sounds good.”
Okay so I talk a lot about Grantaire and trans boy Enjolras having a child but please take a moment to imagine -
- Their son with a mop of dark curls and Enjolras’ eyes being a force to be reckoned with because he has Enjolras’ temper and conviction but armed with the wit and sass of Grantaire.
- Enjolras and Grantaire getting a phonecall from his confused teacher because ‘We asked the children to draw a picture of their family and there’s a LOT of people in this picture?’ because small citizen has included all of Les Amis.
- Feuilly teaching him how to make paper fans and origami swans that end up being left everywhere around the house and the Musain and basically everywhere.
- Bahorel who, as the tallest member of Les Amis, lifts the little one onto his shoulders during meetings so he can watch his papa speechify even though he’s too young to understand what Enjolras is getting so riled up about.
- Jehan teaching him how to make flower crowns. It becomes mandatory for Les Amis to wear them during meetings. Enjolras manages, somehow, to look terrifying even with a badly made string of daisies in his hair.
- Enjolras being interrupted mid-speech by small hands grabbing at his pants to get his attention and being proudly presented with a drawing his son has made. Enjolras for once in his life dropping everything to praise him and kiss his forehead before firing right back into his rant with his son in his arms like nothing happened.
- Enjolras coming home one day to find the kitchen is covered in paint. Grantaire is covered in paint. The child is covered in paint. ‘We made posters for your rally!’. Soon Enjolras is also covered in paint.
- Combeferre gets him one of those star projector things and he adores it and makes his parents leave it on for him every night when he goes to sleep.
- Courfeyrac hosting tea parties with him, in full princess regalia. Enjolras is outraged by the implication that his son is being taught to be sympathetic towards the concept of monarchy (He goes off on a rant about abuse of power that Courfeyrac and Small Citizen do not listen to as they are quite busy eating imaginary cake)
- Grantaire absolutely adoring his baby and proudly proclaiming that he was the best thing he’s ever made, joking that he’s his ‘masterpiece’. Grantaire slowly getting better at loving himself because this small child looks at him with so much awe, like he’s the greatest thing in the world, and it’s impossible not to believe it sometimes.
- Marius and Cosette babysitting him. Cosette thinks he’s a darling and Marius is slightly intimidated by him because this small human has Enjolras’ genes and that’s terrifying and also oh god if he loses so much as a hair on his head I’ll have to face Enjolras’ wrath…small child think Marius is hilarious.
- Eponine who is the best babysitter ever as far as the child is concerned because she always sneaks around sweets (I mean nobody has to know she shoplifted them, she can’t exact afford luxuries) and sometimes her little brother comes over too and he’s so much fun…
- Joly being the baby’s favouite doctor to go to because he manages to make shots not scary because afterall ‘Joly was the gayest of them all’
- Joly, Chetta and Bossuet looking after him some days and having the best playdates known to man that always go a little awry because terrible luck manages to befall Bossuet, usually in harmless and comical ways.
- Trans girl Chetta who helps Enjolras explain the gender thing to him, and proclaims herself fearsome mother bear to him should anyone ever give him any trouble.
- E and R’s son growing up fully aware of the situation with Enjolras and being taught about gender at a young age. He gives a very serious speech about it in his class when he gets questions about why he doesn’t have a mother.
For liberaldisaster, who requested a fic about Enjolras and his service dog. Written on my phone since my computer is still dead, so please forgive any weird autocorrects I didn’t catch.
Developing E/R, modern AU. Warnings for brief mentions of violence/injury and injury recovery.
Both Enjolras and the labradoodle at his feet lifted their heads as Grantaire clattered into the room, but as soon as the dog saw who it was, he set his head back down on his paws. “Enjolras,” Grantaire panted, out of breath. “A bunch of us are getting coffee and I–” He broke off, wheezing. “Christ, I’m out of shape.”
Enjolras hid a smile. “You’re getting coffee and wanted to invite me?” he guessed. “You know, you own this thing called a cellphone that allows you to text or call me instead running all the way over here.”
Grantaire shrugged, still breathing heavily. “Yeah, but where’s the fun in that?” he asked. “Besides, I’m better at guilting you in person than over the phone.”
“Fair enough,” Enjolras said after he rolled his eyes goodnaturedly. “So where are you planning on going, anyway?”
OK, so the other day, I was trying to track down a face claim that someone had used in a LM aesthetic post and I stumbled across this guy:
And this was not the face claim I was looking for, but I immediately thought “Hello, Courfeyrac,” and immediately started plotting to use him in an aesthetic post of my own. Only, the more I looked, the more I realized that Courfeyrac is not the only person he could work as a fc for. ;D I mean…
And again, borrowing one of Courfeyrac’s coats this time? ^_^
Then we have… hello, Jehan, maybe? Or Joly?
I think I could make a case for Enjolras, too. XD
So, yeah. Maybe he’s like Oscar Isaac and he could be a face claim for every Ami? ;D IDEK. What do you think?
will come when we call!” came the cheers from Les Amis de L'ABC. The
announcement of Lamarque’s death still played in Enjolras’s head. The
leader of these schoolboys, although sadden by the loss of their great
leader, used Lamarque’s death as a way to rally the French people to
rebel against the King. One more day before the storm.
noticed his friend Marius was still in awe about the woman he bumped
into earlier. “Oh Enjolras! If you had been there tonight you might know
how it feel to be struck to the bone in a moment of breathless delight!
Oh, have you been there tonight you might also have known about how
your world may be changed by just one burst of light! How everything
that was right seems wrong, and everything that’s wrong seems right!”
Enjolras rolled his eyes. “Marius, we don’t have time for women! We
don’t have time for love! What matters is what’s in front…” he stopped
mid-sentence. There she was. Eponine. She made her way up the stairs,
her head peering over the rail.
Enjolras had never been in love.
He never understood what made his friends go into a state of euphoria
when a woman was around. Women meant nothing to him. He just had no
interest. All that mattered was the revolution.
Eponine came into the cafe for the first time, he didn’t give her a
second thought. She just hung around Marius, watching him with such
care, such affection, such love. At rallies, she tagged along like a
baby duckling following its mother. She asked Marius many questions
about the cause, as if she had an interest. She probably didn’t. She was
probably too engrossed in the attention Marius gave her. Women Enjolras scoffed.
days turned to weeks and weeks turned to months, Enjolras bean to get
accustomed to her presence at the meetings. But for some reason, he
began to feel strange. He would feel nauseous. His heart would race and
beat hard, as if it was trying to escape his body. His palms began to
sweat. He honestly felt like he was dying of a horrible disease. The
thing was, he only felt like that when Eponine was around. What is this feeling? He
was afraid to ask Joly, for fear of humiliation by his peers (Enjolras
was never one to ask for help. All the Amis knew that). Eventually, he
let the idea of his illness go. You have a revolution to run. No time for neurotics. It’s probably nothing.
symptoms got worse the more he saw Eponine. At one point late at night
while writing his speech, Enjolras noticed that instead of writing
Patria like he always did, he wrote her name. Eponine. Why? Enjolras
began to feel his heart beat at the beauty of the name that was etched
on the paper. He scratched it out and continued his speech.
He would lay in his bed after a long meeting, but when he would closed his eyes, her face would appear. Damn! What’s wrong with me?
The more he saw her, whether in his dreams or in real life, he would try to fight what he felt. But he couldn’t.
The first time they spoke was before a meeting. Eponine walked up the stairs into the room where Enjolras was preparing.
She knocked on the wall.
“Monsieur Enjolras?” she asked.
Enjolras turned around to face her.
“May I help you?” he questioned.
“I’m sorry to bother you, but is Monsieur Marius here yet?”
Enjolras shook his head.
“May I wait here for him?”
“Be my guest.” Enjolras said as he went back to his work.
took a seat at one of the tables and waited, but it seemed that she was
never the patient type, so she began walking around the cafe.
She finally made a stop at the table where Enjolras sat, taking the place across from him.
“May I help you, mademoiselle?” he asked without looking up.
“I liked your speech yesterday.” she told.
Enjolras’ ears perked up at those words.
“Just the way you use your words in almost a hypnotic fashion is quite…what’s the word…?”
“Amazing? Interesting? Phenomenal?…”
“THAT’S THE WORD!” Eponine exclaimed.
Enjolras looked at her a little funny.
“You really like my work?”
“Yes, yes I do! I mean I don’t agree with what you are fighting for, but I do like it!”
“I should’ve known. You women are all the same…”
“We are not! At least, I’m not like the women you are thinking of.”
“I can see that.” Enjolras teased.
Eponine crossed her arms over her chest.
“Are you married?”
“I choose not to be.” Enjolras responded.
“Have you ever been in love?”
Enjolras heart began to beat at the sound of those words.
“No. I don’t have time for it.”
Eponine scooted close to Enjolras, making him uncomfortable.
“So you’ve never held a woman’s hand, like this.”
She took his hand into hers, rubbing her thumb over his knuckles.
“And look into her beautiful eyes and tell her how much she means to you?”
The two of them locked eyes, making a small bit of chemistry between the two. Eponine and
Enjolras sat in silence, almost admiring one another.
“Eponine?” came a voice that broke their silence.
Eponine wore a huge smile on her face at who she saw.
Enjolras turned around and watched as she ran over to him.
“I hope she wasn’t bothering you, my friend!” Marius commented.
Enjolras, for some strange reason, felt anger towards Marius. Why? He didn’t do anything.
“No! Not at all.” Enjolras responded, trying to hide the growl in his voice.
if you don’t mind, I’m dropping off some plans for tonight’s meeting.
Courfeyrac is making some more pamphlets. I’m going to go pick them up.”
“I’ll come too!” Eponine exclaimed as she followed Marius to the stairs.
Before she left, she took one last look at Enjolras.
“You’re a very interesting man. Do you mind if we talk again?”
“Not at all. Come by anytime…just leave the love stuff out of it.”
Eponine giggled and disappeared.
What she didn’t see was the small grin forming on the revolutionary’s lips.
two of them had many more talks together, which spanned beyond the
conversation they first had. They spoke about books, history, words,
politics, and of course the revolution. Enjolras never thought he would
be this close to a woman, and he was very surprised at her interests
especially coming from a beggar girl.
Eponine really made an
impact on him one day in April. A crowd had gathered in front of the
great General Lamarque’s house. Enjolras was speaking to his followers
about the rights of the people, how the King must be overthrown. He
usually didn’t have off days, but on this day he was losing his touch.
Many of his followers were leaving, which made Enjolras panic. I can’t lose them! We need this revolution! In
the middle of the crowd stood a face he recognized. Eponine’s. All at
once, Enjolras felt a rush of adrenaline. His heart pounded in his
chest. His mind cleared. Without realizing what he was saying, his words
brought his people back, cheering. Enjolras never felt so alive than he
felt now. When he finished, Enjolras searched for Eponine’s face in the
mess of people. When he did, a burning sensation grew in the pit of his
stomach. She was talking to Marius, and she was smiling. Was he
jealous? Jealous of his friend for catching the eye of this woman to
whom he did not have feelings for? Could I be in love? Eponine turned her head, brown eyes meeting his blue. No. Not love, but she is what I need. She is the symbol of the revolution.
that point on, the face of Eponine fueled his fire. His speeches had
drastically improved, and more people began to listen. When he wrote his
speeches, he didn’t cross out Eponine’s name. Eponine was his Patria.
At night, he saw her face in his dreams. If it was possible to smile in a
dream, he wore the biggest one. She is my muse. She is my voice. She is my revolution.
watched as Marius left with Eponine, no doubt going to go find Marius’
mystery girl. The burning sensation came back, but he pushed it away.
Lamarque was dead. The revolution was falling into place.
rallied his people. The revolution would take place at Lamarque’s
funeral, which meant that they had only one day to prepare. The women
began to sew flags and the men began to fashion bullets out of melted
silver. The hum of revolutionary fervor flew all over the cafe. This
what he had been dreaming of. This is what he worked so hard for. This is what Eponine helped me with.
the thought of her name made him giddy. How can one woman make his
dream come true? His heart beated hard, his adrenaline flowed through
his body. Eponine. The revolution, suddenly, became a blur. Eponine.
was about three in the morning when Enjolras finally decided to go
home. It had been a long day and an exciting night, but he needed rest
for the battle to come. As he gathered his materials, he heard the
familiar footsteps walking up the stairs. Eponine.
stood at the top of the stairwell, wet from the rain going on outside.
Eponine looked like a painting, one that every artist everywhere would
envy. She had the true aura of liberty.
disappeared down the stairs. Enjolras watched her leave, but for some
reason didn’t want her to go. His heart began to beat again. For some
reason he wanted to follow her, and for some reason he did.
he called out to her in the quiet streets. She turned around, surprised
at the sight of the revolutionary running towards her.
“The moment has finally arrived. The revolution will be upon us.”
Eponine looked at him with concern, something that Enjolras had never seen her do yet liked.
“So, you are going to join them?” she asked.
“Will Marius be there?”
Marius. She’s going to fight with Marius.Enjolras felt that sensation in the pit of his stomach again, this time consuming his entire stomach.
“Oui.” he swallowed.
Before Eponine could leave, Enjolras grabbed her arm.
“I know what you are thinking. It’s not worth it. Risking your life for a man who will never return your affections.”
“Why do you care what happens to me? I’m a nobody!”
you are not! Eponine, you are somebody! Marius is a child. He is blind.
I may have had this revolution taking up most of my time, but there was
never a moment that I never saw you. Marius doesn’t know how lucky he
is to have you to look out for him. He’s fighting for the wrong woman.
He should be fighting for you, like I am…”
Eponine looked at him in a mixture of shock and puzzlement.
“Monsieur Enjolras…are…are you in love with me?”
Enjolras froze. Love? Was I in love with her the entire time? He
thought back to all the times he saw her, how she was always on his
mind. How he always felt stronger when she was around. How he truly
understood what it meant to fight for a cause, because she was his cause. It was true. He was fighting for her.
“Is there any possible way that I could win your affections?” Enjolras asked with hesitation in his voice.
Eponine held his hand and looked at him in the eyes.
“Enjolras, your duty is to the revolution. Mine is to Marius. Mine will always be to Marius. I’m…I’m sorry.”
chest began to hurt, as if he had been shot. He didn’t want to believe
her words. He didn’t want to believe his heart. His heart, which was now
“Don’t be sorry. We have our duties, and we must fulfill them.” Enjolras choked.
Eponine nodded in agreement.
“Good luck on your revolution, monsieur Enjolras. I hope all goes well.”
As she began to walk away, Enjolras called to her.
She turned around again.
Through the heartbreak he felt, through the sadness and woe, he told her something that he truly meant with all his heart.
“Stay away from the barricades.”
She stared at Enjolras for a few seconds more before leaving him alone.
Enjolras didn’t move. He just watched the woman he had fallen in love with hurry down the street.
I was the one who had it all. Enjolras realized.
I was the master of my fate
I never needed anybody in my life
I learned the truth too late
Eponine was still in his line of sight, her dress and hair flying as she ran. His chest now burned with heartbreak.
I’ll never shake away the pain
I close my eyes but she’s still there
I let her steal into my melancholy heart
It’s more than I can bear
form was disappearing into the night. He didn’t want to lose her.
Without breaking his contact of her, Enjolras hurried back to the cafe.
Now I know she’ll never leave me
Even as she runs away
She will still torment me
Call me, hurt me
Move me, come what may
He climbed the very stair that she would climb, trying to see if he could still keep her in his sight.
Wasting in my lonely cafe
Waiting by an open door
I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in
And be with me for evermore
managed to get to the cafe window and to his relief, Enjolras could
still see her. He held his hand out of the window as if he could grabber
I rage against the trials of love
I curse the fading of the light
Though she’s already flown so far beyond my reach
She’s never out of sight
Eponine was now as small as a speck, but Enjolras didn’t care. He could still see her. His love. His Patria. His revolution.
Now I know she’ll never leave me
Even as she fades from view
She will still inspire me
Be a part of everything I do
Wasting in my lonely cafe
Waiting by an open door
I’ll fool myself, she’ll walk right in
And as the long, long nights begin
I’ll think of all that might have been
Waiting here for evermore
the distance, Eponine stopped and looked back. For the first time ever,
she felt something she had never felt before. She felt loved.
first enrolled, some of the teachers tried to forbid Courfeyrac from
transforming in class. Combeferre still remembers the speeches about
distracting other students. He also remembers, and much more fondly, the look
on Courfeyrac’s face when he and Enjolras came to his defence. Metamorphmagi cannot
always help their transformations, and Combeferre had ample information to back
because they’re rare,” Enjolras had said pointedly. “Is no reason to be
ignorant about them.”
It had cost
them some house points for Ravenclaw and Slytherin respectively, but it had
instantly earned them Courfeyrac’s friendship.
By now Courfeyrac’s
changing appearance is generally accepted as normal. Both by the teachers and
the students. To Combeferre it’s as much a part of him as his exuberant
emotions. They are very often linked too.
when someone stole Jehan’s homemade tie dye robes, his eyes turned absolutely
green from anger.
time Bahorel tried to stand on his broom and fell off, all his freckles disappeared
in fright and when it turned out he was fine they came back in bursts with
every snort of laughter.
a long day of studying, they all got to watch his pastel hair slowly darken to
earth tones as he fell asleep with his book in his arms.
And the day
Combeferre asked him to be his boyfriend his hair curled up so violently that
the curls seemed to form an actual multi-coloured halo around his head. It was
a full week before his nails stopped changing colour every time they held hands.
@fixaidea Either Enjolras or Grantaire remembering the other’s birthday?
This prompt was offered when I was in a Space Mood, so this story randomly happens in space, for reasons. You can, if you wish, admit this happens in the same universe as the last two stories.
The most surprising thing was to find Grantaire on the deck alone; it seemed to Enjolras that Grantaire was always in the midst of other people, on the edge or at the center of a group, mingling, laughing, talking. Seeing him standing on his own, quiet and staring quite literally at the universe expanding outside of the ship, felt almost wrong. Enjolras frowned but moved forward, taking long steps to reach Grantaire, who blinked several times when he finally noticed him, before grinning broadly.
“Enjolras,” he said, his voice almost a song. “I feel suddenly blessed; Years of pouring luck out of Lesgles has finally paid off I see: no need to look up at stars anymore, though you are still annoyingly tall, like the rest of our crew; Courfeyrac and Joly alone were nice enough to grow up a normal size, we should all spend more time being thankful to them; ha, I’ll buy them a drink tonight. Dare I ask why you are here? It’s very rare to see you alone these days. And nothing I remember has warranted a conversation between us, which makes me very curious about what you have to say; cause surely you didn’t came here without a purpose: that particularly brand of walking belongs to people like me. So..?”
The thought that they’d had the same reflexion about one another made Enjolras raise an eyebrow, but he didn’t speak of it. Instead, he merely said:
Ok but Idk where to say this but I luv u so I'll say it to you. That bit where grantaire is mockingly encouraging Marius to keep singing has always rubbed off on me like "enjolras this is how you should be acting while I'm not around." Like he does that little gesture thing in the movie when he sings "red" and I just jshdkabdjsnsbsk
First of all, friend, you are always welcome to come share such wonderful thoughts with me, because you are ABSOLUTELY RIGHT.
I mean, just look at this little shit:
LOOK AT THE SMUG LITTLE HALF-SMILE, the one that says, “I am going to pay for this later, but it will be so worth it.”
Also, look at Enjolras’s face during this whole exchange. He surprisingly doesn’t look at frustrated or fed up as I seem to remember him being (or have imagined him being, either way). He rolls his eyes at Marius, but once Grantaire starts egging Marius on, he’s pretty patient, all things considered. Like, clearly, Marius is ridiculous, but Grantaire – well, maybe he’s heard Grantaire say the same thing as Marius before, but maybe Enjolras never really put it together as to what Grantaire was talking about.
(”You said that to me, once,” Enjolras tells Grantaire, abruptly, and Grantaire merely arches an eyebrow at him.
“I’ve said many things, fair leader, and as such, I’ll need you to be more specific.”
Enjolras blushes but carries doggedly onward. “You said – something about being struck to the bone. Le coup de foudre.” He hesitates before blurting, “Were you talking about me?”
Grantaire takes a long pull from his bottle as if deciding upon the best answer. “None but Apollo himself may strike me to the bone with breathless delight,” he says finally, leaving Enjolras frankly more confused than before.
And later, when all have left for the night, Grantaire finishes his bottle alone and says out loud, though none is there to hear, “But too well do I know the color of despair.”)
Secondly, I love you too, dearest Nonny!! Please feel free to swing by anytime you feel the urge to share more :)
My favourite Enjolras is the Enjolras who adores his friends. The Enjolras who confuses everyone who isn’t in the group because from the outside it looks like he is dating all of the les Amis.
Enjolras who never stops talking about how great Feuilly is, both in front of Feuilly and behind his back. Enjolras who jumps into EVERY fight bahorel gets in around him, like Enjolras is tiny but he bites like a motherfucker.
Enjolras who will spend hours with Courfeyrac talking and will go to every single event he plans without complaint because he knows courfeyrac loves these things. Enjolras who fake dates Marius with the sole purpose of pissing off his grandfather because he is the only one who isn’t terrified of that man. And when Combeferre adopts a cat Enjolras keeps his allergy secret and has to sneak tons of medicine to keep from sneezing constantly.
Enjolras being the first person joly bossuet and Musichetta come to with their relationship because they know he will not only accept them without question but also be at their side for every other time they tell people and he has a strangely comforting presence. And every time Eponine or Montparnasse need somewhere to crash for the night his couch is open and he always buys breakfast for them in the morning.
And when jehan has a poetry reading Enjolras is always at the middle front seat getting way too into it and making jehan blush afterwards with all the compliments. Enjolras who showers his friends with compliments, thanking them for every contribution they make and getting this earnest face on as he tells them how much their dedication means to him.
Enjolras not being the best to come to with personal problems, but he will always listen, just don’t ask for advice. I mean just picture Enjolras with his serious face on looking Cosette in the eye and nodding along as she tells him all the fluffy details about her date with Marius. That’s a great mental picture okay?
I want to see more of Enjolras who knows all of his friends coffee orders and will buy them one whenever he has a chance, or Enjolras who will see something in a store and absolutely light up because it reminds him of one of his friends and immediately he buys it. Enjolras just being the most affectionate person, sometimes inconveniently so, calling his friends at three thirty in the morning to tell them how important they are to him, or pressing kisses to their cheeks and hugging them tightly every time he sees them as if they had been parted for years while it’s really been moments. And this often leads to people thinking he is dating multiple, if not all the members of the Les amis, this assumption is not refuted by the way he will sometimes find a friend and just hold their face and tell them how amazing he thinks they are.
Also in assemblies Enjolras is that annoying person yelling over everyone to find his friends so they can all sit together, and reserving a whole row with his books, bags, jacket, scarf and anything else so they wont be separated.
And when Enjolras actually starts dating Grantaire people find out that he was actually being somewhat reserved before.