my finger slipped

  • looks like a cinnamon roll but could actually kill you:Carol
  • looks like they could kill you but is actually a cinnamon roll who will still kill you:Michonne, Daryl
  • looks like a cinnamon roll and is actually a cinnamon roll who could kill you but won't:Glenn
  • looks like they could kill you and will actually kill you:Rick

can you even imagine a catching fire au with the jabberjays

like marius is screaming for cosette and grantaire doesn’t really understand, she sounds like she’s in pain, sure, but he has to know it’s not her, right, so he just starts shushing him, grabbing his shoulders and squeezing to keep him from writhing and crying out, that’s not her, sometimes squeezing harder than others, anything to calm him down but he just keeps crying, marius, they’re birds, shut up, it’ll all be over soon, just one more torture, just one more hour

then a strong, sure voice pierces the air, sounding less strong and sure than grantaire had ever heard it, calling his name above all names and his heart completely stops beating

grantaire takes off in an absolute moment of adrenaline, his feet are tripping underneath him and plants are scratching at his face and he can’t see, he can’t think and all he knows is enjolras is out there and they are drawing noises from him he would die a thousand bloody deaths to unhear, his voice is torn to shreds yet he still draws noise after noise from his throat without pause, ENJOLRAS, ENJOLRAS, his wounds are bleeding heavily and the agony of hearing apollo in pain brings him to his knees at the very edge of the forcefield, combeferre is yelling at him from the other side, at the top of his lungs, it’s not real, it’s not real, but grantaire can’t hear, he looks combeferre in the eye without bothering to read his lips and screams THEY’RE KILLING HIM, THEY’RE KILLING HIM, he folds in on himself and tries to press his hands to his ears to block it out and finds he can’t breathe, he has found hell and he cannot see the surface, there are no gentle presses of their hands together, no fiery speeches or blazing hearts to bring him back to himself, he lets out a guttural shriek above the din that tears the humanity from his being and rips his final shred of hope with a horrid, desperate cry of “NO

enjolras is on the ground at home pounding his fists against the television, static waves erupting from the force of his fingertips, his eyes are wild and blurred with angry tears and he’s bitten his nails to bloody stumps and his pleas sound like sandpaper as he screams over and over “I’M OKAY, I’M RIGHT HERE, YOU STUPID BASTARD, LOOK AT ME, LOOK AT ME, I LOVE YOU, GRANTAIRE, I’M OKAY, I’M RIGHT HERE, GODDAMMIT, LOOK AT ME