#i'm working my way through all my books that i haven't read yet so i'll get to the avatar novels soon
Text
I do feel like the way Kyoshi was written in the Avatar reboot was lowkey influenced by the fandom's perception of her. Cause like in the original show she's really just portrayed as a pragmatist who's willing to kill if necessary. Like Aang is conflicted about killing the Fire Lord and she's like "well if I were in your position I'd do it but that's just me. Good luck." And then people started making memes where she's like a murderous psychopath who thinks extreme violence is always the solution. And it was funny at first cause it was just exaggerating for comedy but now everyone thinks she was actually like that in the show when she really wasn't. And then in the remake her introductory scene is her angrily yelling at this 12 year old that he needs to stop being a little pussy and be a ruthless warrior or whatever and the only explanation I can think of is that someone in the writer's room maybe looked at a few too many of those memes.
#she had an awesome fight scene though so there's that#disclaimer i own both the kyoshi books but haven't actually read them yet#so this is just going off how she was written in the original show#i'm working my way through all my books that i haven't read yet so i'll get to the avatar novels soon#but i gotta get through a couple more star wars books first lol#but yeah you know those spider-verse memes#where they take the scene where jefferson says ''spider-man why did you create that guy''#and they replace it with some funny dark shit like ''spider-man kill him and his family'' or ''spider-man fuck this guy's ass''#that's basically what people seem to think kyoshi is like#avatar the last airbender#avatar kyoshi#shut up tristan
398 notes
·
View notes
Text
i don't really have any solid conclusions about this yet but i noticed A Thing in a rewatch and i haven't found it mentioned elsewhere yet so here we go
(apologies for the appalling image quality you're about to see, i can't screenshot easily rn pls bear with)
OKAY so in the scene where crowley confronts gabriel about "shut up and die", something about the arrangement of book stacks caught my eye a little
the majority of the books are angled so that we mostly just see the page edges and not the spines clearly, EXCEPT for a particularly shiny and familiar colour combo right here-
but nothing too weird going on there, i thought, crowley coloured books in a bookshop so what? right up until i registered crowley's line when we get a closer look-
hhhhmmmmMMmmmm yes yes "everything just the way you wanted" huh, very interesting considering that we know how much thought goes into props huh
and for most of the shots we get of crowley in this position those freaking books are just quietly nestled right there in the corner-
look at that god damn framing i fuckin see you, you glorious bastards
so i paused to see if i could figure out what the hell was up with those fuckers and this is when i absolutely lost my mind, your honour
A and C you say?? in crowley colours???? framed like this?????? localised entirely within your kitchen???
anyway long story short they're two books from an Agatha Christie Crime Collection set (24 volumes, three stories per volume) and guess whats on the mfing front covers I'm-
(its a rant for another post but when paired with this other set of initials spotted in s2 i want to scream actually)
ANYWAY back to the books, through an absolutely unhinged comparison of the formatting of gold text blobs i reckon the two we have here are:
(on top) The Pale Horse; The Big Four, The Secret Adversary
(on bottom) 4:50 From Paddington, Lord Edgeware Dies, Murder in Mesopotamia
(I'm fairly confident but if anyone has a better image to confirm/correct this pls do)
now here is where I'll need a bunch of help from some Christie-heads out there bc I haven't read any of these and I've only seen the tv adaptation of one of them, so i dont know for sure if these are like A Clue, or A Cool Thing, or if I've just fully brainrotted myself into a fun lil corner here? wa-hoo
but here's some initial stuff that jumped out at me after skimming the basics:
(some of) the titles: Pale Horse/Big Four - death's horse ofc, the four horsemen mayb? the them+adam?? ; Mesopotamia is a very biblical choice bbz ; 4:50 From Paddington- azi likes trains i guess? idk that one's tenuous lmao ; honestly no idea with the other two but Secret Adversary feels a tad ominous
iirc Big Four just has kind of an unusual history, it was initially twelve short stories that she later compiled into one, and it was published fairly soon after christie's mysterious disappearance/reappearance
in Big Four, poirot fakes his death at one point and doesnt even let hastings in on it and I'm hoping sure its totally irrelevant to the ineffable bois
part of the Pale Horse story is a group of assassins that basically try to pass off all their murders as being actually caused by like ✨satanic powers✨ which is interesting
christie knew a fUCkton about poisonings thats why she wrote so many into her work and, while i don't believe the poison coffee theory myself, it sure is an interesting link with how cyanide is associated with almond smell/flavour and that metatron chooses almond syrup in particular
(ALSO random side note that is mostly meaningless but I've worked in a good few uk coffee shops and have never worked anywhere that stocks almond syrup; almond milk yes, hazelnut syrup yes, but never almond syrup...? prob just the places i worked though lmao)
EDIT forgotten point: I've seen some speculation that the bently's plate reading "CURTAIN" could be a reference to poirot's last story, along side that alternate scene of crowley ordering the sherry for "miss marple", its just one too many agatha christie references for my melted brain to handle and I'm SUS
so this is where i run out of idea steam and hand it over to you lot because i have no clue what this could mean, if it even means anything other than a cool set feature
is there something here actually or am i yelling into the void just for fun?
who knows, who cares!
#good omens#good omens 2#good omens spoilers#good omens 2 spoilers#good omens meta#ineffable husbands#ineffable idiots#agatha christie#hercule poirot#miss marple#can't wait to hear y'alls thoughts#SO WHY IS THERE A KNIFE THROUGH THE 'A' HUH#AND WHY IS THE 'C' ON THE CHALKBOARD SO FADED HMMM#GAIMAN EXPLAIN#things that make me go ngkk
235 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fyodor needs help sometimes even if he doesn't want it
Content Warnings: Self-neglect, degradation, humiliation, (Neither of which are particularly "sexy" it's more just Fyodor being put in his place through his own stupidity), this... isn't healthy for Anyone...
no smut today, sorry :( there Is a part 2 to this with smut. So if you want to see the pathetic, problematic, and malnourished, twink getting railed come back in a bit :3
You sigh as you look at Fyodors pill bottle. You'd recently put a cap on it that had a timer telling when it had last been opened. You suspected that he hadn't been taking his meds. The timer showed that it had been over two days since Fyodor had taken his medication, and even then, he only took it because you brought it to him.
You head up to his computer room where you find him hunched over his keyboard, typing away at lines of code. "Hey Fedya?" He hums as if he hears you but isn't listening. You continue anyway. "You haven't taken your meds in a few days... how are you feeling?"
"Fine," He says without looking up from typing. "When's the last time you got up to eat or use the bathroom?" You ask worriedly. Fyodor sighs. "I do not need you babying me. I can care for myself, you know." He says flatly. "You haven't taken your meds in two days... I worry about you. When's is the last time you slept in a bed and not at your desk?" He stops typing and pinches the bridge of his nose in irritation. "Not all of us get to sit around and do nothing you know some of us have actual work to do." This makes you pause irritation boiling under your skin. "Excuse me? I do plenty thank you very much. I'm the only one who does anything around here." You snap he has never been this expressly disrespectful to you. "You do nothing but annoy me and take me away from my work! I don't need your help! I realize you are too dumb to understand how important what I'm doing is, but you can at least have the decency to let me do it. As for what you do around here, you do nothing but take up space and money!" He snaps angrily you pause your eyes wide, all the times you've made sure he had water and tea as he worked, made sure he was eating, brought him food if he hadn't eaten yet, brought him his meds, all of that to him was simply an interruption? An irritation? Not to mention you took care of most of the chores, though he helped with a few such as the trash ...Fine then if that's how he saw it. "Very well, then I'll stop." You sat icily your eyes narrowed. "Since you will be fine without me helping, I'll leave you be." He seems pleased at that. "Good." Is all he says before he turns back to his monitors. You don't hesitate to turn and leave.
True to your words the next four? Maybe five days? You don't do anything for him. You knew when you two started dating, he needed something akin to a caretaker as he was oblivious to his own health, unable to feel hunger, thirst, or even exhaustion the way most do. It stemmed from his autism and you were willing to help him out of love for him. You never thought you'd have that affection thrown back at you in such a volatile way. You haven't seen him for a few days making no effort to seek him out.
You are sitting in the living room reading a book quietly when he stumbles in. He looks terrible. He hasn't showered in about two weeks at this point, hasn't had his meds in a week, and God knows when the last time he ate was. You only barely glance at him before returning to your book. You watch him lean against the counter as he makes his way to where his meds are stored. Once he get his hands on them, he looks at the caps timer, showing him its been almost a week since he's taken them. His hands shake as he struggles to open the pill bottle, the childproof cap, making it impossible for him when he's this weak. You watch him from over the edge of your book. He is genuinely struggling, but you can also tell he's putting on a bit of a show to garter pity from you to make you feel bad for leaving him to fend for himself. You don't give him any instead of going back to actually reading flipping the page. After quite a bit of time, he finally stumbles over to you and holds the bottle out to you. "Open this." He says gruffly. "You don't need my help. You should be fine." You say not looking up at him though you can see his hand trembling in your peripheral. Your words make him pause.
He tries to open the bottle again with no luck he stands there swaying slightly, his pride not letting him admit he was wrong or that he needs help. He tries to pull your book down, but he is too weak to succeed. You watch him sway again before he crumples at your feet, the pills bottle rolling away from him. You still don't look up from your book as you flip the page. If he wants anything from you, he needs to put his pride aside. He sits there, trembling at your feet for a few minutes before weakly whispering, "I'm sorry..." It's makes you laugh a little inside. "Pardon? I didn't hear what you said. Would you like to repeat that?" You ask without looking up from your book. "I'm sorry..." You nod. "Hmm, that's a start. What are you sorry for?" His eyes are unfocoused, and he's barely keeping himself upright. "I'm sorry for yelling at you."
"And?"
"...And I was wrong."
"About?"
"I was wrong, I do need you..." You nod again as you flip the page. "Yes, you do, don't you." He waits for a moment before he continues "...Are you going to help me now?" You laugh finally closing your book. "And why would I do that? You've done the bare minimum." Fyodors eyes widen, "please..." He whispers weakly. "Please, what?" You ask with a smirk as you watch him sway on his knees. "Convince me." He takes a shakey breath. I'm looking like he might cry. "Please help me... I feel like I'm going to pass out, and I can't... I can't take care of myself right now." You tilt his head back so you can observe him better. "It's almost a pity I have to put you back together... I kind of like you like this. Weak and pathetic, not that you aren't weak and pathetic normally, but... it's just you look pretty when your half way from deaths doorstep." He whines a hint of fear in his eyes. Sure, he could kill you with a touch, but the idea that he is weak and pathetic normally makes him uncomfortable. "I really should make you work for my help... but I'm feeling... Generous. So instead, I'll only make you beg. Sit back on your knees and put your hands up to your chest like a dog. I want to see you beg like one. After all, I have to care for you like a pet."
Fyodor shudders but does it his body barely stable for very long as he holds his hands up in an imitation of paws he looks at you, embarrassment evident in his face. "Good enough, I guess." You sigh idly, he whimeprs, letting his body relax so he doesn't fall further to the floor he rests his forehead on your knee. "Please~" He whispers meakly. Finally, you move him onto the couch and lay him down with a sigh.
You go get his meds, water, and soup since you don't trust him to keep solid food down right now. You come back to him asleep, and you almost feel bad about having to wake him up, but you know you need to. He needs to eat and drink. You carefully nudge him awake and set about nursing your brilliant moron of a boyfriend back to health. You wake him up not as gently as you usually would. You shove the pills into his mouth, then yank his head back and force him to drink, double tapping his cheek once he swallows. "T-thank you... my love..." You help him eat the soup since his hands tremble. "You wouldn't be in this mess if you simply listened to me, you know." You sigh as you pet his hair the soup bowl finally empty "If you had just been a good boyfriend and accepted my care you would fine, but no you have to be a selfish stubborn brat." He looks up at you with glassy eyes. "I'm sorry... I'll try and be better..."
You shake your head and sigh, carrying him to lay down in bed. A shower will have to wait till tomorrow. "Sleep, you can make it up to me tomorrow, Fedya." He nods and nuzzles into you, clinging to you out of anxiety that you'll abandon him again. You kiss his forehead as he drifts off.
#bungou stray dogs fyodor#fyodor x reader#fyodor dostoyevsky x reader#fyodor dostoevsky#bsd fyodor#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#sub fyodor#Anemic rat man#fyodor bungou stray dogs#fyodor bsd#sub bsd#autistic Fyodor#I am autistic and I Am projecting just a Tiny Bit.#autistic bsd#Cyber-Night
232 notes
·
View notes
Text
Stumblin' In
a/n: Well...it's been...a while. heh. Sorry. I've been going through a lot. On here (the accusations...) as well as in life. Latter keeps me busy to no end. It's exhausting...but I'm back.
beta-reader, editor, partner in crime: @barfightzanddiscolightz
warnings: mentions of previous injury, rpf, fem!reader, cuteness overload
wordcount: 2.2k
part 1 - part 2 - part 4
Part 3
You let yourself fall face down on the sofa with a loud sigh. The last few days had been nothing short of exhausting. Your back and neck still hurt, and the concussion had caused some nightmarish migraines that had left you unable to work. So, you spent your days in your dark living room, accompanied by your two cats, Freya and Kiro. Freya, a chubby lady with a moustache who you had had to put on a diet, was sitting on the back of your sofa, silently judging you. Kiro, your long-haired void of a cat, sat next to you, purring in your ear.
When you had come home from the hospital almost a week ago, they had greeted you with loud, screaming meows as if they had been starving. Your dad had been looking after them, cuddling them and feeding them generously. You also knew that he had given each of them a little treat every time before he left. So much for starving. Total drama queens - Both of them. But that's just Freya and Kiro, you wouldn't trade them for any other cats in the world.
Today had been your first day back at work and you wished you hadn’t gone. Your migraines had stopped the day before, but your body was still killing you. Groaning, you pushed yourself up to sit properly on your sofa, your legs sprawled out on its long chaise longue. You took a blanket from the basket beside it and pulled it neatly over your legs. Kiro immediately took this as an invitation to plop down between your legs. You were about to open one of your newly ordered books when your phone buzzed. A new message.
Huffing annoyedly, you picked up your phone from where it lay beside you to check who had the audacity to disturb your precious reading time.
It was Joe. Forgotten were your pain and shitty mood.
He hadn't texted you in days and, not wanting to appear desperate, you hadn't texted him either. That's just the way you were, constantly thinking that you were annoying people with your presence.
Pushing the negative thoughts to the back of your mind and grinning to yourself, you quickly unlocked your phone and read his message.
Bambi on ice! How are you?
You rolled your eyes at his new name for you. You got it, you're a klutz.
Hello to you too, Joe...
I'm fine. How are you?
I'm good. Very busy.
That's why I haven't texted you the last few days. I'm sorry about that.
Oh... you don't have to apologise. It's fine.
No. I don't want you to get the wrong impression. I'm working abroad at the moment, and I only have internet when I'm back in my temporary home. And then I get flooded with messages and things to check as soon as my phone connects to the internet. I didn't mean to forget about you.
You read the last sentence he wrote not once, but twice... no screw it, five times. You'd be lying if you said it didn't affect you. The slight pink tint to your cheeks betrayed you and you were glad no one was around to point it out. You had to change the subject. This is too much lovey-dovey bullshit. You were not ready for this... yet.
How are you supposed to do your hacking without internet? Must be difficult.
Perfect.
All Joe did was send a series of eyeroll emojis that made you giggle.
It's a top-secret mission, you know. We're doing it the old-fashioned way. Infiltrate and then destroy. 😉
All right there, soldier. Top secret. Got it.
But I'll be back in four days!
Amazing! Quick in and out then?
Yeah...something like that.
Hey... I was wondering if you were up for that date you owe me when I get back?
You stared at his question and the blush crept back into your cheeks. Here you were again. Back to the subject you had hoped to avoid, at least for a little while longer.
While you had agreed to go on a date with him, your motivation was more to please him and get off the hook so you could get inside your house. You were knackered and just wanted to rest. Days had passed, and you had been beating yourself up about agreeing. You weren't dating at the moment. You found contentment in the way your life was going. Nevertheless, you had promised him, and breaking a promise was not your style.
Swallowing hard, you let your fingers tap out your response.
Sure! Just let me know when and where and I'll be there 😊
Great! Can't wait!
Me either!
Listen, I gotta go now. Duty calls! Text soon?
Of course! Good luck with your mission.
Thanks! Bye, darling xx
Bye Joe xx
---
Fuck. You had an official date. With Joe. You needed to tell a certain someone.
"Brother in Christ. How are you?"
Of course, your best friend would pick up like that. You pushed yourself up a little, which made your legs move, much to Kiro's displeasure. The cat glared at you, and you quickly apologised with a kiss to his head.
"I'm fine...guess what!", you tried her, gnawing on your bottom lip.
"You finally managed to put your summer clothes in the basement?" she guessed.
"Well, yeah...but that's not what I wanted you to guess.", you snorted and then blurted it out: "I-have-a-date."
"What?"
"I HAVE A DATE!”, you repeated, almost shouting. Since your neighbours were all half deaf anyway, you didn't care that you had just raised your voice.
“Ouch, don’t yell at m- WAIT! You?! Have a date?!”, she sputtered.
"Yes!”, you replied in a breezy voice.
"With who?"
"Joe.", you replied so quietly that she almost didn't hear it, but her gasp gave her away.
"Joe. As in 'your knight in a beige cable-knit jumper'-Joe?"
"Yes!”, you squeaked out, earning a glare from both your cats.
"Holy shit, babes! This is like one of those romance films we sometimes watch on film night.”, she gushed, clearly very excited for you.
"Ugh, yeah. I know.”, you groaned. "I need your help. I don't have anything to wear!"
"Lies! Your wardrobe is bursting at the seams."
Which was true, but she didn't have to expose you like that.
"I know. Can you help me put together an outfit? I will repay you fabulously!"
"Ahhh... just deduct it from the mountain of drinks-debt I owe you. I'll be there in 20 minutes!"
"Wait! The date's not even se-", you started, but she had already hung up. Typical her.
18 minutes later your doorbell rang and there she stood in all her 'hair in a messy bun, oversized jumper, leggings with a questionable stain and the oldest trainers she could find' glory. Her face was sporting a huge grin.
"You look absolutely insane." you pointed out as soon as you opened the door, chuckling. She snorted and pushed past you, heading for your room. You quickly followed, knowing full well that without you, she'd start pulling out pieces of clothing from your closet and throwing them on your bed.
---
She had been rummaging through your wardrobe for almost two hours now and had mentioned that you had 'too many things' at least 20 times, accompanied by an eyeroll, whilst you made yourself comfortable on your bed. Your cats had decided to join you for a while, but the mess she was making was too much for them and they went back to the living room.
She was standing on one of the shelves in the closet, trying to get to the top shelf. It was the most hilarious thing you had ever seen, you had to snap a picture. Without thinking, you sent it to Joe.
Who’s that?
My best friend. She’s a madwoman.
I can see that, and I see how she’s your bestie. You both like to put yourselves in dangerous situations. I bet she’s pulled a Humpty Dumpty before as well.
You snorted at his text, earning a raised eyebrow from your friend who was still standing in your wardrobe. When she saw you were on your phone, she gasped and jumped out of the wardrobe. She quickly made her way over to you.
"Who are you texting?", she demanded, her eyes narrowing.
"Nobody."
"Bullshit.”, she claimed, holding out her hand to you. "Give me the phone."
"No.”, you giggled, trying to crawl away from her, but to no avail. She was very quick and snatched the phone out of your fingers. Her eyes went wide.
"BITCH! Stop sending pictures of me to your boyfriend!"
"He's not my boyfriend!", you argued, snorting and laughing at the face she was making.
"He better be after your date...", she muttered, tossing your phone back at you, which you almost caught with your face. "I've got your outfit."
With a huge grin, she walked back over to your wardrobe and picked up a few stray clothes. Then she laid them out orderly on your bed. It was perfect. Totally you. Totally the opposite of Joe. You'd stick out like a sore thumb.
“Thanks babe.”, you smiled, pushing yourself off the bed and engulfing her in a tight hug.
"Anytime, love.”, she grinned into your hair and returned your hug with an even tighter one.
"Coffee and biscuits?", you asked her as you pulled away and her face lit up all over again. She didn't even answer your question but ran off to the kitchen.
"You better have chocolate chip cookies!", you heard her yell, knowing she'd already opened your cupboard where you stored your sweets. When you heard her excited squeak, you knew she had found them. Shaking your head at her antics, you made your way to the kitchen to join her. You wouldn't trade her for anything in the world, either.
---
When your best friend left, it was already dark outside. You opted for a light dinner which consisted of a piece of sourdough bread, half a tomato, a handful of shredded cheddar cheese and three green olives. Everything was neatly arranged on the plate. Girl Dinner was served.
Walking over to the sofa to read for the second time that evening, you placed your plate on the small table in front of it, sat down and draped a blanket over yourself. Picking up the plate, you leaned back against the headrest and popped an olive into your mouth. Freya and Kiro soon joined you and tried to beg you for some of the sourdough. Kiro was particularly persistent, but so were you. When they finally realised you weren't going to give in, Kiro trotted off to sulk under one of your chairs and Freya retreated to her place on the headrest.
You were just about to open your book when your phone again alerted you to a new message. Thinking it was your best friend letting you know she had gotten home, you leaned forward to grab your phone. But it wasn't your best friend. Joe had texted you again.
Did you have dinner?
Uh... yeah. Why?
Oh, just checking.
What are you doing?
I wanted to read, but a certain someone keeps interrupting.
Oh! My apologies.
What are you reading?
This. *attachment*
Ooh. This looks interesting. What's it about?
Instead of telling him, you took a picture of the summary on the back.
It sounds very interesting. I'll stop bothering you now. Go read!
You're not bothering me, Joe.
Your last message stayed unread, and you frowned at your phone. After a couple of moments, you put your phone aside and finally started reading where you had left off.
---
You were about to take a sip of the tea you had made yourself an hour into reading when your phone beeped again. You wondered who it was. It certainly wasn't your best friend. She had let you know that she had arrived home shortly after Joe had dropped the conversation. You had a hunch, though.
Turning your phone around, you saw that Joe had sent you a picture. With a gentle tap to the screen, you enlarged the photo. It was a book, but not just any book. It was the same book you were reading. Smiling to yourself, you tapped on the picture again and added a heart reaction to it.
Then another message from Joe.
Now we can have our own little book club.
Those nine words instantly made your heart flutter.
Just the two of us?
Yep.
Count me in...
Brilliant! I was hoping you'd say yes. It'd be a shitty book club if I was on my own.
Yep. The discussions would be very one-sided.
And boring.
OK, I'll let you read. I'm sure you're way ahead of me. I just got it and I gotta catch up so we can discuss it on our date.
I'd love that. Talk later?
Of course we will. Happy reading! Bye, darling xx
You too! Bye Joe xx
Grinning from ear to ear, you put your phone down and picked up your book up again. You’d never been happier that you had so mindlessly agreed to a date before.
---
Taglist:
@ohmeg @daleyeahson @lma1986 @palomahasenteredthechat @mandyjo8719 @aysheashea @littledemon-lilith @freakymunson @sidthedollface2 @i-wont-run-this-time @miserybeans @kylakins88 @thehillzhaveeyez @punctualhowell @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead @siriuslysmoking @cancankiki @definitionwanderlust @1paire2vans @theonewiththecrackedmind @fromasgardandback @captainonaboat @josephquinnsfreckles @emilyslutface @alessxa
there's still some spots left on the taglist :)
#joe quinn#joseph quinn#joseph quinn fanfic#joseph quinn fanfiction#joe quinn fanfic#joe quinn fanfiction#joseph quinn x reader#joe quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x y/n#joseph quinn x fem!reader smut#joseph quinn x you#joe quinn x fem!reader smut#joe quinn x reader#joe quinn x you#rpf fic#rpf#rpf fanfiction#my loves
60 notes
·
View notes
Note
hii pink. i'm a little scared to post this publicly but honestly what's the worst that could happen LMAO.
anyways,, i'm in a little bit of a rough spot w the void. i've reached the point where i can confidently say that i've had enough epiphanies to know that i'm doing everything absolutely right— i know that i'm the operant power and that there's nothing beyond or above me. every morning before my 'attempts' i pep talk myself/subconscious and basically remind myself that i have no limits and there's nothing i can't achieve and all i need to do is decide. i go in so confident and completely convinced that this is 'the one',, i affirm to keep my mind focused and place my awareness on being one w myself. i see the void as a state like any other. everything about my physical body and realm is a product of my assumptions so i know i don't have to jump through hoops to separate myself from my own creations. i could go a little more into this but honestly my mindset is perfect as far as i'm concerned.
i've been like this for a few days now ?? i'm not sure how many exactly but i know it's been long enough to completely purge the old story as i never walk away from an attempt discouraged and immediately revise it. i do have a small amount of opposing thoughts from time to time but they're really weak and i shut down them down immediately with a "these thoughts are not mine and have nothing to do with me".
i'm sorry this is a lot but i just wanted to give insight on my situation before i ask why i haven't 100% tapped in yet. i completely understand if you don't have any advice for me,, i'll keep persisting no matter what.
also to anyone else who might see this; it might not mean much but please don't be discouraged by my situation !!! you and i are totally different beings so my lack of complete success has absolutely nothing to do with you,, keep pushing and don't mind me :)
Hi love! I honestly stay away from LOA asks because I didn't use LOA during my own void journey and I have not researched it enough to be at a degree of giving others advice on it, as well as my opinion that the law is very reliant of interpretation, meaning it might be understood and utilized by everyone in a different way. However, I just thought that your ask was so sweet so I'll try my best to answer. I'll start off with this quote:
"If, having read this book, having a thorough knowledge of the application and working of the law of assumption, you faithfully apply it in an effort to attain some intense desire and fail, what is the reason? If, to the question "Did you persist enough?", you can answer "Yes" – and still the attainment of your desire was not realized, what is the reason for failure?
The answer to this is the most important factor in the successful use of the law of assumption.
The time it takes your assumption to become fact, your desire to be fulfilled, is directly proportionate to the naturalness of your feeling of already being what you want to be – of already having what you desire."
-Neville Goddard, The Power of Awareness
During my own void journey, I struggled with the law. There are a few things that I manifested but others, I struggled with, including the void and I ended up entering without LOA. However, now as I've helped others on their void journeys, and have read more posts from all the amazing bloggers here as well Neville's work itself, I've realized that the thing that I was missing from my manifestation equation was exactly this: feeling my desire to be natural.
And how do you feel your desire to be natural?
"The essential feeling of naturalness can be achieved by persistently filling your consciousness with imagination – imagining yourself being what you want to be or having what you desire."
-Neville Goddard, The Power of Awareness
So the key things to take away so far is that for our desire to come into fruition, we ourselves must rest easy in the feeling of naturalness (It needs to seem natural to you). How do you do this? Be persistently imagining yourself with your desire, imagine and feel it until it feels natural to you.
This is kind of like when you keep practicing something, like a presentation over and over, pretending like you're acctually presenting. At first, you kind of forget words here and there and it just feels unnatural but as you keep practicing, doesn't it feel way more natural and eventually it is just natural and you know youre going to wing it? Same thing applies to the void. You need to keep imagining that you've already entered, with whatever scenario that may be, over and over so that entering the void and succeeding feels natural to you.
This is why I personally vouch for SATS. In SATS, you turn to your imagination and feel yourself in the feeling of the wish fufilled and keep repeating until you fall asleep, so that you fall asleep in the state of the wish fufilled, allowing for you to attain a feeling of naturalness that will guarantee your desire.
You have to understand that the basis of the law is that an assumption, though false, if persisted in, will harden into fact. Anything you can assume and create with your imagination can come true, but the way to bring your desire into fruition is by attaining the feeling of naturalness and the method I personally interpret as the best way to do do is SATS, so I recommend looking into this and this post.
I hope this helps! 💗
269 notes
·
View notes
Text
As long as we insist on forgetting the past, we'll need teachers like Omnia and Gnosis to remind us of our history.
Would you look at that, I'm done with all the canon teachers from the cartoon! I'm only missing those from the comics now, and then the humans and locations.
I really liked how season 2 dedicated time to expanding the Golden School and included more staff, Omnia and Gnosis were fun characters to redesign.
Omnia and Gnosis had pretty solid character designs: the contrast between them in terms of shape and colors was especially good, and I wanted to retain and expand on these traits to the best of my abilities.
I started by simplifying their original shapes as much as possible, and then I exaggerated them further. I took some inspiration from mountains to further define their designs (I'm currently reading a nice book on world geography and it seeped in).
After making Omnia taller and lankier in her design, she reminded me of China's Tianzi mountains; they inspired me to make Omia's hair cloud-shaped, since these famous pillar-like mountains often touch the clouds.
Meanwhile, Gnosis' flat and bulky body reminded me of the mesa formations found in Colorado's Grand Valley (USA). His horns and wing claws start with a flat shape and then curve upwards almost vertically, like the butte formations often found around plateaus and mesas.
Their original color palettes were honestly among my favorites in the series, so I kept them for the most part, though I sought to simplify them even further. Omnia's key colors (pastel green, soft pink and white) were easy enough to figure out, but Gnosis took a lot of testing; at one point I considered switching him to purples and oranges, but I'm glad I stuck to earthy browns, yellow and orange, and added a washed black to the roster for contrast.
Like Arkan and Temptel, Omnia and Gnosis are much older than they seem: Omnia sports two sets of wings and a carved halo (I was inspired by the Ohm symbol because... OHM-nia, :B), and Gnosis has clawed wings and a tail. These traits mark them as older Eternals.
Just like Terence and Scarlett, these two professors got assigned as Academic Deans to their very own Universal Law and History faculty! their clothes are a bit more old-fashioned in a way to reflect this. They are definitely my most normal-looking pair of teachers.
With this I think we're halfway through with the Golden School staff, since we're only missing two more faculties. They're sketched out and everything, I just need to figure out the colors next.
Don't forget to check out my AF rewrite fic, I'll Fly With You, if you haven't yet. I'm pouring my soul into it and I'm currently working on the next chapter :D
40 notes
·
View notes
Note
As a queer drawn to the faith and trying to deal with the messiness of entering into everything, I've been trying hard to read more of the Book of Mormon because I only have a very vague understanding of it's Whole Deal, but executive dysfunction, ADHD, and honestly, a million other excuses are making it very difficult. Are there any good resources for walking through the fundamentals? Childish but I feel like I'm disappointing the Lord if I'm not more on top of this.
Hi anon! I totally get it and yes, I can think of a few ideas!
If you're looking for ways to understand the BoM (or even just general doctrine) from more of a bird's eye view:
I hope you don't find this silly, but when I was a kid, the church published an illustrated children's version of the BoM that's obviously way quicker to flip through. It might be harder for you to find those exact editions I read as a kid if you don't have ready access to a church library, BUT I found this!! It's (almost) the ENTIRE BoM illustrated and summarized and it's online!
Looks like they put out videos too that summarize the BoM beginning to end. Here's a link to the video series. I haven't seen these, so I can't vouch for them, but they might be helpful! Similarly, there's a BoM in 60 seconds video you might find helpful.
If you'd benefit from a schedule, the church is currently studying the BoM in sunday school! The past few years, we've been using a study guide called Come Follow Me with weekly assigned reading chapters. I've actually been working on posts about CFM as they relate to queer mormon theology, but I haven't had much posted yet since I've been having a rocky start to 2024. As things improve, I'll be able to hopefully even establish a schedule on this blog!
I'm not sure if missionary lessons is something you're interested in at this point, and it's definitely not something you ever need to do, but the missionary lessons themselves are a pretty good doctrine intro if you're looking for just Mormonism 101 in a digestible way. The missionaries teach out a book called Preach My Gospel, which is available right here. You'll be interested in the lessons, which are found in Chapter 3. If you just scroll down, you'll see some of the links are labeled Lesson instead of Chapter--just click on those bad boys. And if you have any doctrinal questions, I'm always MORE than happy to talk about the church! You'll probably get a faster answer DMing me personally at @logans-mormon-blog, but I'll always answer asks here as soon as time permits.
If you're looking for easier ways to finish the BoM from beginning to end:
The BoM on tape. The church has an audiobook version available on the Gospel Library app and other audio apps like Spotify.
The Reader's Edition. If you can get your hand on a reader's edition, a lot of people find this is an easier way to plow through the BoM. What's special about this one is that it's formatted not like scripture but like prose, and it really does change the reading experience!
I don't know if this helps any, but I struggle with some of the same issues as you and I'm always bitterly disappointed when I'm not able to move mountains. If I had my way, I'd be the most well-read scriptorian of all time and this blog would be updated constantly. But life often doesn't shake out that way. I spend way more time than I want to with my brain entirely burned out of my head. So you're not alone, if that's any comfort. I think God gets it--he made our brains, after all, and knows how hard it is to wrestle with. It's easier said than done, but don't beat yourself up. God loves the both of us and he's the most perfectly patient person who's ever lived. He's not frustrated or disappointed with our efforts. Religion exists, in my opinion, to help improve and enrich our lives, not make them more challenging OR even to make them perfect if we only could just run fast enough. I too wish I could be more diligent and on it, but shit happens, right? And we're not on earth to be perfect, we're here to be happy and to learn. When Joseph Smith was translating the BoM, God told him "Do not run faster or labor more than you have strength and means provided to enable you to translate; but be diligent unto the end." D&C 10:4. We're doing our damndest, and that's all God even wants from us.
If anyone else has more resource ideas, please let us know!
-Logan
41 notes
·
View notes
Note
Question, from one aspiring writer to another: how do you manage to maintain the drive to keep writing and how do you not lose interest in what you've created before it's done? Asking because I need advice.
Tricky question. I don't think it has a single answer.
For me personally, there are a few things that buoy up my enthusiasm:
Rabbit Holes - random deep-dives into topics I find incredibly interesting. Because I have so many outlets for my rants about highly specific cool things, I don't need to stifle any random hyperfixations because almost all of them can be turned into scripts or worldbuilding concepts. If I feel the enthusiasm strike, I chase it down as far as I can and take as many notes as possible along the way. However, these things work like lightning strikes and I can't just get randomly super interested in any one thing. Almost all of my longform videos start out as these.
Comedic Reframing - the bread and butter of the channel and the lifehack that let my poor brain actually focus on extremely long and boring books through college. It's easier for me to retain information and enthusiasm if I can find humor in what I'm dealing with on a smaller scale. When working on illustrating videos, for instance, the way I avoid burning out on individual frames is by making sure they have witty dialogue or fun character moments, because I genuinely enjoy drawing those a lot more than just "character moves into position" or "scene change" shots. Same goes for the comic - the more dynamic or interesting the pose, the more interesting the panel is to draw and the easier it is for me to stay jazzed.
Audience Feedback - I feel like this part is simultaneously understated and overstated in different ways. Creating art solely for the accolades it might garner is seen as generally both gauche and inefficient - it'll turn into an existentially draining losing battle like all pursuit of fame for fame's sake does - but any writer or artist will tell you that people losing their minds over their art is the number one way to guarantee they want to make more art. When drawing the comic, even when I'm lower energy, I'll often think to myself "oh man, they're gonna be yelling about this panel" and that'll help give me a boost. Early on in the comic I read through the discord discussions almost every day, but now I'm mostly sustained just from people yelling in my askbox.
Letting The Characters Run Wild - I've mentioned this elsewhere, but one of the most fun parts of writing for me is when the characters kinda tap me on the shoulder and say "hey boss, I really wanna do this". Their character-moment is almost always spicier, more complicated and more interesting than whatever plot-serving guideline it's replacing. Making the characters act as automatons that solely move the plot forward is less interesting for me as a writer than turning them loose and seeing the havoc they cause. Before I ever put pen to paper for this story, half my fun would just be playing out extremely fraught conversations and encounters between characters - no script, no plan, just "here's the premise and GO." Lots of stories start out as daydreams, and daydreams are like the purest form of energizing creation, existing only for the joy of the creator and thus flowing almost effortlessly; I think it's important to retain the heart of that when the daydreams start being set down on paper. If it's not a little self-indulgent it's not gonna be too much fun, and sometimes all it takes is letting the characters do the wild thing with consequences you haven't fully worked out yet.
In my experience, the thing I enjoy most as a creator is solving puzzles. I have more fun writing my story when I only mostly know where it's going, and I have to work out the most interesting consequences to my characters' unexpected actions. I have more fun drawing out a joke if the punchline didn't even occur to me before I started the frame, because the idea is fresh and fun and hasn't gone stale from sitting in my head too long. And my enthusiasm for my older work is reinvigorated when I see how other people respond to it, because it lets me almost see my own work through fresh eyes, which is a rare treat for any creator.
And when I get really worn down, I treat that like a sign that something needs readjusting. I don't force it when I'm worn out or can't bear to look at my tablet - I step back, take a break, take a walk, indulge in Floor Time, watch a movie, buy a coffee, do something that isn't trying to floor the accelerator when I'm stuck in a creative snowdrift. Sometimes that means putting a project down for months. Sometimes that means realizing I wouldn't actually be able to make a project happen because it'd be draining my will to live the whole time.
I sometimes use the metaphor that a creator's mind is like a garden. Its works need to be cultivated, but sometimes they also need to be left alone, or maybe the soil needs to be actively left fallow for a while. It may look like the project isn't doing anything, when in actuality it's spreading its roots and developing a much more solid foundation where you can't see it. Maybe two concepts cross-pollinate in an unexpected way and you get a new third thing to cultivate. But the most important part of this metaphor is that the well-being of every individual thing growing in the garden is heavily dependent on the heart of the garden overall. If you aren't doing okay, your art isn't going to be okay either. If it's feeling like a fruitless and nothing is growing, you might just need rain. Or nitrogen-fixers.
261 notes
·
View notes
Text
In memory of the victims
Tw: SFW, can be read as gender neutral tho written with a fem reader in mind, fluff, slight angst at the end, implied abuse (not by the wanderer or the reader).
Pairing: Wanderer x Reader
!In relation to the Genshin community incident in China!
--------------------------------------------------
"I'm boooored" you whine, probably for the hundredth time now, as you continue lying on the sofa, one foot dangling over the side, kicking the air.
Nahida and the Traveler were off doing something about fungi and a dragon..? (They didn't really explain.) And left you and the Wanderer to hold fort in the Sanctuary of Surasthana.
The wanderer sighs, and scowls back at you from his spot on the desk, still writing whatever Vahumana essay he was working on this time. But instead of another annoyed response, he decides to simply turn around and ignore you completely.
You gasp internally. He's ignoring me now?! Oh no no no!
Pushing yourself up and walking towards him you say "Hey! That was rude!" You pout.
No response. You get to his side and stare at him, yet he doesn't even bat an eye in your direction. You lean even closer and poke his cheek, "Is my cute Scarameow being fussy again?" You ask cheekily. This time, the response is immediate. He drops his pen and turns around to properly glare at you. "I told you not to call me that." He says scowling. You don't answer, simply preserve eye contact and give him your bestest pout.
By the thirty seconds mark, he breaks; "Ugh fine, quit the stupid puppy dog eyes they don't even look cute." He says, like a liar.
You keep going, "Oh no I made Scarameow angwy," he gives you his flattest stare, "I know how to make it up to you! Should I get my cutie patootie some fishies?" You poke at his cheek some more.
He rolls his eyes "You just want to feed me fish because I look like a cat to you." You look like a kitty to everyone pookie you think but you don't say it, instead you answer "Did I mention I would cook it myself for you?"
Suddenly, his books were closed, papers back in their respective folders and he himself was dragging you towards the exit to the Sanctuary of Surasthana. "Let's hurry," he says, "you need fresh fish right? We can get some from the Grand Bazaar."
You giggle as you notice his ears had taken a purple hue "Slow down! The fishies aren't gonna swim away!"
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Walking back from the Bazaar hand in hand, you consider the steps to creating your grilled fish dish when suddenly, you hear a little meow.
...Your head immediately whips towards the Wanderer's direction.
He doesn't even bother looking back at you and simply says "You remember I'm not actually a cat right?"
"Ah- y-yeah." You look away sheepishly. He sighs but doesn't seem all that surprised or bothered.
The two of you continue on your way home, then get started on the cooking as soon as you get there. He takes over the salad and rice saying something about yours never coming out "just right", but you knew that was nonsense, he just wanted to help.
Just as you're done cleaning the raw fishes and about to start grilling them, you hear the same meow sound from before. You and Wanderer halt and share a look.
"Do you think the poor thing followed us from outside and got stuck in here?" You say, already placing the fishes inside the cryo box for now.
"Let's search for it." Wanderer says, moving out of the kitchen area as you followed after him.
The two of you split up, looking through the entire sanctuary trying to find the little fur ball to no avail. You even decide to check the outside area but still find nothing.
You were starting to get really worried. "We looked everywhere... are there secret passages we don't know about?"
Wherever this kitty was stuck was so well hidden that if you didn't find it in the daylight you doubted you could at night.
Wanderer thought for a moment "There's still one place we haven't checked." He looked up, "I'll fly up to the roof and take a good look around, I could also check the tree branches in the surrounding area..." He glanced at you "I could carry you up with me-" You quickly interrupt him "We both know I'd just slow you down," you waved him off " you go, I'll just uhh... Go back down the stairs and check carefully again." You doubted you'd find anything down there, but you knew Wanderer only offered to take you up with him as a kind gesture, you wouldn't be much help up there without the ability to fly freely.
He nodded, seemingly understanding you wordlessly, and with nothing more to say, flew directly up.
You started descending the outer stairs of the sanctuary and, sure enough, there was no more mewling to hear. You'd made it all the way down when you spotted an older lady feeding some birds at the base of the Divine Tree.
"Hello ma'am," you call out politely. It was a long shot but it wasn't like you had anything better to do while you waited, so you approach her. "Have you seen any cats running around here by any chance? Maybe following anyone going up The Divine tree?"
"Oh dear have you lost your pet young one?" The old lady asked worriedly "No I'm afraid I haven't seen anything like that... And trust me I would notice," she motioned towards the pigeons she was feeding, "all of these little fellas would have scattered quickly enough if any cat came milling about."
"Oh, I see." You said. Now you should go back up and see if Wanderer found anything, hopefully the kind old lady doesn't start telling you a story or anything of the sort because you really should get goi- "Actually, " the old lady says solemnly, interrupting your thoughts, "that does remind me of a sad little tale I heard from the locals."
Great.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
You find Wanderer where you last saw him, near the entrance of the Sanctuary of Surasthana, waiting for you.
As you approach, he tells you he found nothing, that he'd tried again and again to follow the source of the mewling, but the area was clear. "I could look for Nahida," he suggested "maybe you're right and there really are some secret passage ways, she could tell us how to access them." He belatedly notices the paper bag you were carrying.
You sigh. You don't know how much longer you can hold in the excess emotions but you do your best. Now is not the time. "Don't bother..." You say very quietly, almost whispering. "I... I figured out what's going on." You say, thinking back to the old lady's words.
You start walking back towards the sanctuary, not checking to see if he follows you. He does anyway. "Oh? Well spill it out then."
You stay silent, resolutely walking forward without looking at him.
"The suspense is killing me." He dead pans.
When you don't bother bickering back, he starts getting actually worried. "Hey... Are you ok? Did I miss something?"
You push open the sanctuary's door, still not looking at him and say: "Help me prepare the fish... I need some time to process something."
He freezes in place, eyes wide "Did- did I do something wrong- did I-" You hug him tight, with a shaky breath. "Listen to me. You did nothing wrong. Not this time." That seems to calm him enough, and he pulls back a little, staring at your face. You don't know what expression you're making right now, but he seems to steel himself and say "... Let's prepare the fish then."
The two of you work fast in a tense silence. After plating both of your meals and saving two plates for Nahida and the Traveler, you get started on your new main task.
You slice some thick pieces of fish and arrange them into a small plate. You then pour some fresh milk into a small bowl and hand both to Wanderer who looks quite lost but is following your lead without question.
You grab the brown paper bag and empty it, revealing a small gardening shovel and a wooden plank on which you quickly scribble something, then you lead him out of the sanctuary, towards a secluded spot in the courtyard and immediately get to work.
He watches as you dig with the small gardening tool, securing the wooden plank in a tight horizontal hole, and sees what was written on it's surface...
Once you're done, without prompting, Wanderer places the small offerings in front of the makeshift grave titled "Here lies the spirit of a victim, may it find peace" It's all symbolism really, but you're hoping it helps.
"...So are you going to explain what we're-"
You hold his hand and squeeze " Shh, listen."
He does, he listens intently but hear's nothing. The sanctuary's small courtyard is quiet now.
"...it stopped. It was never really here though was it." It doesn't sound like a question.
You finally release your hold on your feelings, your eyes tearing up, your body shuddering slightly, and you squeeze Wanderer's hand some more. The two of you stand there, hand in hand, staring at the grave.
"It was before Nahida took back her rightful place." You croak out. "The mahamatra never found him, they just had a few vague witness descriptions of a guy coming around these parts and grabbing the stray cats... He seemed suspicious enough that someone even tried to chase him down once." It's like your feelings gain momentum, your crying turns into sobbing, your shaking gradually intensifies. You feel his hand release yours only for his arms to wrap around your shoulders, you look away from the grave and hide your face in his neck.
You completely miss his murderous expression.
It was obviously not directed at you, and while he was still looking at the little grave, it wasn't directed at the poor dead thing either.
He was not going to let this go. He was going to find the person responsible and. They. Would. Pay.
That he swore.
--------------------------------------------------
A/N: Some ... People in the genshin cn community, apparently felt so "disrespected" by a fictional character that they deemed "too rude", so they decided to dox and stalk Mihoyo employees, create forums to bash on Scaramouche/Wanderer and his writers and designers, bullied his fans, tried to pressure Mihoyo into deleting him from the game, sent his design images to some chinese authority figures as if he were a "threat to the nation", and, the cherry on top of this disgusting cake, unalived their own cats because they looked like scarameow.
Please share this information, it's what we can do to help our sisters and brothers who have to live in the same country as these freaks.
#wanderer x reader#wanderer genshin#wanderer genshin impact#Scaramouche#scarameow#cat genshin#genshin impact#gi#fluff#scara x reader#scara#wanderer#x reader#x you#you#reader#(Y/N)#(y/n)#y/n#genshin impact community#ghost stories#implied ghost
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Beyond the Barricade
Masterlist
Character: Enjolras x f!reader
Summary: All you had ever known was life at the Musain. You worked hard to stay alive and keep your family comfortable, and that's all that you ever needed. But your life's path will be forever altered by a young revolutionary who has his sights set on changing the world.
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, slightly suggestive
Word Count: 19,000
A/N: Enjolras x Reader!! I love this guy so hopefully this isn't half bad. It's all one big long part because I didn't really have a good way to break it up, but I had a couple ideas for scenes that didn't make it in, so if this does well maybe I'll write a couple short one shot things.
Also just want to clarify I'm not an expert, I watched the movie and read wiki articles, but I haven't gotten around to reading the book so there's some stuff I'm just kinda extrapolating. Like I'm pretty sure they meet in the back room of the Musain, but they just meet in the upper floor here. And in the final battle there's the Musain as the base of operations and a non named tavern where they keep the bodies and Javert, just for my own storytelling purposes. (Even though I think there's another place in the book or something idk)
Anyway, enjoy!
-----
You scrubbed at the counter until your arm burned, trying your hardest to get the stains out. Despite your best efforts, nothing budged. You sighed and tossed the rag into your bucket of soapy water, moving on to the leftover dishes strewn across the counter top.
The Café Musain would open soon, and your sister had not done the work that your father had asked of her the night before. So now, as usual, the chores fell to you, while your sister was out gallivanting, probably with one of those ridiculous Amis de l'ABC. You had to stop yourself from rolling your eyes at the mere thought of them. Their revolution had merit, sure, but a fight against the monarchy was hopeless for a bunch of schoolboys. Your father, however, was sympathetic to their cause, so he allowed them to use the upstairs room of the café whenever they pleased.
Your father lumbered through the door, already tired in his old age and having spent the morning arguing with vendors and traders, trying to prevent them from increasing the supply prices yet again. He paused, taking a moment to catch his breath after the long walk and looked around the café. When he saw you behind the counter, he sighed. "Where is your sister? Why is she not helping you?"
You shrugged. "Marie is out and about, I suppose. I can't keep track of all her callers."
Your father pinched his brow. "Okay," he sighed. "Okay."
He made his way over to a table and lowered himself into a chair.
You finished cleaning the glass and filled it with fresh water. Making your way around the bar, you set it down in front of your father.
"Thank you, Y/N," he said softly. He sighed again and leaned back in his chair. "Les Amis de l'ABC are coming tonight. I know your sister usually tends to them, but I want you to do it today. I hate to say this, but she needs to be put in line. I want her to have her fun, but we're struggling here, and if she cannot tend to her duties properly, she doesn't get to do the jobs she likes."
"You're punishing her?"
The nights that Les Amis came to the café, you usually let Marie take care of them. They were a bit too much for you, and you didn't mind working up front while she got to flirt with the students as they planned their revolution. She was not going to be happy about this, and you weren't exactly thrilled either.
"I think it's appropriate discipline," he replied, "until she can manage to balance her work and social life. We are better off than most, but we cannot afford to neglect our work."
"I understand, Papa. I'll talk to her later. "
He laid one of his large hands over yours. "Thank you, Y/N. I'm going up to my room now. I need to go over the books once more before we open."
The big man stood and patted your shoulder gently before exiting the room, leaving you alone in the empty café.
—--
You glanced at the old clock on the wall. You were supposed to open in a matter of minutes, and still no sign of Marie. Usually your father would have come back to help, but you imagined he had fallen asleep in the small apartment upstairs. You decided not to wake him. Your sister and you could manage on your own, provided she showed up, and the old man needed what rest he could get.
You snapped up your head at the door creaking open. In walked Marie, who you hadn't seen since the night before. She rubbed her eyes, all but ignoring you, and grabbed the rag from its bucket, beginning to clean off the counter.
You plucked the rag from her hands, tossing it back in the bucket. When she looked at you in confusion, you sighed.
"It's already done, Marie. I spent the morning doing both of our chores, which I didn't even get to until much later than I should have, because I had to clean up the mess you left last night." You had to admit, you weren't even that upset, just tired.
She tugged at her sleeve and looked away sheepishly. "I'm sorry, Y/N, I really did think that I would have been back sooner. But my friends and I-"
You waved your hand. "It doesn't matter." You grabbed the broom out of the corner and handed it to her. "Give the floors a once over before we open."
She took the broom without complaint and began sweeping. You sat down at one of the tables, giving your feet a much needed break.
"Les Amis de l'ABC are coming tonight," you told her, watching as she moved about the room.
Instantly she perked up. "You know, I think Courfeyrac has his eye on me."
You leaned forward in your seat, resting your head on your hand. "Shame we'll never find out."
She paused her sweeping. "What do you mean?"
You gestured for her to keep sweeping, which she hesitantly did. "Papa says you aren't allowed to tend to Les Amis until you can show up to work when you're supposed to."
Marie opened the door with a loud sigh and swept out her pile of dust. "I suppose that means you're doing it then."
"Yes."
She moved to sit on the counter with another loud and dramatic sigh. "Fine. Tell Courfeyrac I said hello."
You shifted in your seat to face her. "You aren't upset?"
She shrugged. "I knew that Papa would be fed up sooner or later. I'm just glad the punishment isn't as bad as I thought it would be."
"Why do you do it, Marie, leaving us with all the work? Why don't you care about the family?"
"I do," she protested. "I do care about you. I guess I just find my life difficult to come to terms with. Is this café where I spend the rest of my days?"
You joined her behind the counter as the first few customers began to trickle in. "We do not live in a forgiving world, sister. If you want a stable job and home, then likely so. Unless you manage to find a rich man somewhere willing to marry a barmaid."
Marie let out a short laugh. "That would be the day."
—--
Soon, the café was bustling with the evening business.
Your father entered the room, looking slightly more rested than he had earlier that afternoon. You were glad, he deserved the reprieve.
He approached the bar and motioned for you to come talk to him.
He leaned over to you and lowered his voice. "Our.. guests' meeting is about to begin. Your sister and I will take over out here. Bring a few bottles of wine up, they usually start with those."
With a nod, you gathered up the drinks and glasses and made your way to the private upper room. As you approached you heard a strong voice speaking confidently. "Too long have the people of France lived under the thumbs of dictators. I thank you all for joining me today to fight for a new world, a world reborn."
You slipped into the room, staying in the shadow of the doorframe, meaning to allow the speech to come to a natural pause before interrupting. You didn't get the chance, however, before a voice in the corner cried. "Marie! How nice of you to join us!"
"That's not Marie, you louse, that's her sister!" another voice cried, this one much higher than the first. You glanced down in front of you and your eyes widened.
"Gavroche!" You couldn't help but exclaim, startled to see Eponine's younger brother. "Does your sister know you are here?"
"Yep!" The boy said proudly. "I'd be happy to take that off your hands, milady," he said, reaching for the tray of wine.
You lifted it out of his reach. "I think you're a bit young for me to be giving you this."
A hand rested on the boy's shoulder. "Pardon young Gavroche, he only wishes to be of help."
You looked up and met the eye of the blond man who had been speaking at the front of the room only moments ago. Your breath hitched for a moment at his intense gaze.
"I can take the wine," he added when you said nothing. You blinked away your initial startledness and handed the tray over to him.
"Thank you, Mademoiselle," he said. He leaned closer to you, a conspiratorial look on his face. "We'll likely need another round soon, though, knowing these men."
"Of course, Monsieur. I'll be back soon to check on you all. I'll be up front if you need anything before then."
The rest of the night was spent going back and forth, clearing away a glass or two at a time, doing your best not to draw attention.
At the end of the night, you stood behind the counter, counting the night's earnings as customers began to leave.
Marius approached the counter, as he always did this time of night, after Les Amis had had their fill of drinks and politics and were heading home.
"Good evening, Monsieur Marius," you greeted him.
"Hello, Y/N." He handed you a pouch of coins. "This should cover the tab, along with a little extra as a tip. You did excellent on your first night with us."
His tone was slightly teasing. He knew you would rather stay behind the counter. But you weren't lying when you shrugged and said "I didn't mind it all that much. Work is work, people are people." You counted out the change as he watched, sorting it into neat piles. "They're making you pay again?"
"They all chip in," he said. "They just make me take it up to you. Trying to force me to talk to people, I think" he said with a grin.
You laughed softly and put the money away. "Have a good night, Marius."
"You too, Y/N."
You watched the young man leave the café before turning to get the cleaning supplies out. When your father saw what you were doing, he came over and took the supplies from you. "Marie will take care of the cleaning up after Les Amis de l'ABC are gone from here on out," he told you.
You raised an eyebrow. "You don't think that's harsh?"
"It is. That's precisely the point."
Marie sighed one of her signature sighs as she passed by and took the cleaning supplies from your father, the same way he had taken them from you. "You two go on up to bed then, I'll take care of this."
Your father gave her a little pat. "Good that, Marie," he said, before turning and making his way to his room.
"I think I'll go sit outside for a while," you told her. "It's a nice night."
She shrugged. "I'm not your boss."
Shaking your head, you opened the creaky door and sat on the concrete step leading up to it, leaning your back on one of the pillars that framed the entrance. The city was silent this time of night, and you loved the brief respite from your hectic life. You hadn't been able to enjoy it in a while, though, thanks to Marie and her antics always leaving you with far more work than free time.
No sooner had you relaxed than the door opened once more, spilling warm light from inside on to the dark street.
You jumped to your feet, startled by the sudden intrusion. "I am so sorry, Mademoiselle," said the silhouette at the same time you started splattering muddled apologies, your brain still scrambled from the scare.
The voice gave you pause. You recognized that voice. As the figure stepped away from the door, you realized why. The leader of Les Amis de l'ABC stepped on to the street, concern in his eyes. "Are you all right?" he asked, closing the door behind him.
You nodded as you smoothed down your clothes taking your seat once more. "You startled me is all. I didn't think any patrons were still here."
He shrugged. "I was working on a paper and Marie kicked me out."
"If you need to finish, I'm sure I could-"
"No, no," he interrupted. "Thank you, but I can finish it another night."
"Alright then," you said. "Goodnight, Monsieur."
He gave you a curt nod. "Mademoiselle." Turning on his heel he began to make his way down the street. He only made it a few steps before turning back towards you. "Actually, I do have a question for you. You seem like you actively avoid my little group, but tonight you replaced Marie. Why?"
"Marie was being punished, that is all. Our father told her she could not work with you all because she enjoys it."
"And you don't."
You hesitated, unsure of how to respond. He asked no question, only offered an observation.
"You don't agree with our ideals," he said when you didn't respond. Another observation. He stepped forward, offering you his arm. "Walk with me. Allow me to convince you."
You laughed softly at his boldness. "Is that what you say to all the women?"
A hint of a smile brushed his lips. "Only the pretty ones."
"I don't know," you said, now smiling as well, your teasing tone juxtaposing your objections, "walking off with a strange man at night sounds dangerous."
"What if I promise to protect you?"
You glanced back at the door, light glowing from the crack at the bottom. With a sudden burst of resolve, you pushed yourself off of the stone and took his outstretched arm. "I'm going to hold you to that promise."
"I'd expect nothing less."
The two of you walked side by side in the night. Neither of you spoke for a while, but the silence was comfortable.
"So why do you avoid us?" he asked, finally breaking the quiet.
"I don't avoid you, per say…"
He only raised an eyebrow in response.
You shrugged. "I only think that you are taking great risks to do what you do, and have seen very little reward. It's not something I want a part in."
"The reward will come," he responded. "In time. Even if we are not there to see it."
"In time, perhaps," you said. "But I find it difficult to justify jeopardizing what I have for a world that I will not live to see."
"But what of those who have nothing to jeopardize? People suffer because of tyrants that hoard all of the wealth. France is dying because of the rich who hold the resources captive."
You stayed quiet for a moment after that, pondering. Finally you asked, "Say you're starting to convince me, what can a few schoolboys possibly do?"
"Light the flame of revolution. We won't be fighting the war, merely the first battles. We are not foolish enough to believe that change will come quickly, but if we give it all we have, people will rise when we fall. Then one day the world we long to see will come into fruition."
Again, this gave you pause, as you pondered over the words and their meaning. "Would you mind terribly if I sat in on the next meeting? Of course, I would still do any of the services your group needs."
"That depends," he replied, his tone light. "Would you be sitting in the way that Marie does, or would it be to listen to what we are discussing?"
This made you laugh. No doubt Marie was often a distraction in meetings, with her bubbly personality and her need to make friends with any human being who crossed her path. "I would like to think the latter," you told him.
He smiled. "Then I would be honored that you join us." He slowed and came to a halt. "I believe this is your stop, Mademoiselle."
Sure enough, you had made a full loop around the block without even realizing it, and you were back at the front door of the Café Musain.
"Right," you said, "I'll be seeing you soon, then." You dropped his arm. "Goodnight, Monsieur."
Taking your hand in his, he bent over and pressed a feather light kiss to your knuckles. "Goodnight, Mademoiselle."
You felt the blood rush to your cheeks at his gentle touch.
With a final nod goodbye, you turned toward the door. You had only made it a step when he shouted, "Wait!"
You stopped and turned around to face him, waiting for him to say something more.
“I never learned your name,”
“Y/N,” you called. “And yours?”
“Enjolras.”
“Well then, goodnight Enjolras, and I will see you again soon.”
“Goodnight, Y/N, I look forward to it.”
—--
When you walked in, the chores were complete, the lights were out, and Marie was nowhere to be found. As silently as possible, you made your way up the stairs, past the upper room that held the Amis meeting space, and into the small apartment on the topmost level. Your father's door was shut tight, but you could hear his snores even through the thick oak frame. You cracked the door to your small room and slipped in, trying to avoid waking Marie in the next room over. You quickly slipped on your nightclothes and ducked under the covers, heart still thumping in your chest from the excitement of the night.
"Where were you?"
You jumped up at the sudden noise as Marie's whispered question broke the silence to see your sister looking through a crack in your open door.
Your chest tightened at the question, but you responded hesitantly, "I went on a walk."
"That's not the whole truth," she said, slipping into your room.
"How would you know that?" you hissed in response.
"I saw you walking with someone."
So there was no hiding it then. Not that you had a reason to, it was just a friendly conversation. "Enjolras."
Marie gasped loudly.
"Shhh!"
"Oh, stop it," she said. "Papa is fast asleep."
She lit the candle on your small nightstand and plopped herself down on your bed with such force you couldn't help but make a soft "oof" sound. "What were you doing with Enjolras?"
You shrugged. "He saw me outside and asked to talk to me about his revolution, so we did, that's all."
"Ugh," said Marie. "Boring. I've never been able to get him to say more than a few words to me though, so clearly something you're doing is working."
Your eyes widened at the implications of her statement. "I'm not doing anything! We were just talking!"
Marie looked disbelievingly at you. "Mhm, sure. You have to admit he's attractive though."
You hid your face beneath the covers, which she promptly yanked down. "I'm going to take that as you agreeing with me," she said.
"Even if I did agree with you," you said, swatting away her hand, "there's nothing to do about it. He's more interested in the revolution, and his family is far wealthier than ours."
"True," she said, "but he has never once tried to recruit me for the cause, even before I started getting a little friendly with some of the boys. And how can you truly think class would matter to him? It's the antithesis of who he is."
"I'm sitting in on the meeting next time."
Marie nodded. "Good. And you'll be waiting for him at the steps again at the end of the night."
"I will?"
"Of course. You must establish a pattern."
Your jaw dropped. "Marie, are you trying to set us up?"
"Yes," she answered shortly. "And it's going to work." She pinched out the candle and left back to her own room without so much as a goodnight.
—--
You thought about Enjolras a lot the next few days. There wasn't even much cohesive thought to it, just his smile, his warm hands, the way the dim street lights shone through his hair.
The rest of Les Amis de l’ABC were regular customers of the café. They were loud and jovial on the nights they had no official meeting, but never had you seen Enjolras on a night that there was no meeting. Now that you were listening, though, you heard the other students speak of him. He preferred to stay home studying and planning than spend his nights out and about.
You replayed the memory of your walk over and over in your mind, for no reason other than the joy it brought you to remember him.
Finally, finally, the day came when Les Amis de l'ABC would meet again above the Café Musain. You hated to admit it, in the fear that you were getting excited over nothing, but your heart buzzed all morning at the thought of seeing him again. The customers began to arrive and you busied yourself in the back doing inventory as your father made the night's meal.
Marie poked her head around the corner. "Y/N, he's- they're here," she corrected herself quickly after seeing your father.
"Thank you, Marie," you said, and gathered up the tray of drinks you had already prepared.
Your father looked up from his task. "Good luck."
Muttering a quick "Thank you," you slipped out the door and made your way upstairs. Like the last time, the meeting had just started by the time you got there. It came to a quick halt as you entered though, as the men realized that drinks had arrived.
You made eye contact with Enjolras from across the room, and you did your best to ignore the butterflies from his intense gaze. He made no move to get to the drinks like the rest of the men did, but you gave him a small smile and he nodded briefly in return.
You spent the majority of the night in the back of the room, listening, save for the time you spent running for drinks and food. The more you listened, the more you found yourself being swayed towards the revolution. The things they spoke of called to mind all of the suffering people you saw around you, even in your small sheltered corner of the world. Who knew how bad it was in the areas of the city even poorer than yours, or rough areas like the docks, where you were forbidden to even go.
Enjolras was a strong leader, confident and well spoken, and it was clear that he was respected by everyone in the room. It made you wonder why a man who already had plenty of people that agreed with him and the ability to sway many more was wasting his time by radicalizing a singular barmaid. Free drinks on the battlefield, maybe.
Like all nights, this one came to an end. You gathered up the dishes and took them out to Marie, who had begun cleaning the kitchen. Les Amis de l'ABC began filing out the door, talking loud and cheerily as they left.
You placed the dishes into the bucket of soapy water, earning a sharp look from Marie.
"Get out there," she said. "He'll be out soon."
You shook your head. "Marie, he's probably already left with everyone else. I know what Papa said about your punishment, but at least let me do the dishes."
Did you want to do the dishes? No. Were you far too nervous to come face to face with Enjolras again, now that Marie had put all these ideas in your head? Absolutely.
Marie quickly moved in front of you, blocking you from the dishes. "He hasn't left yet, I have to kick him out every single time he has one of these meetings."
"Marie-"
"Go."
Giving her a sharp glare, you obliged. As you sat on the stone and leaned against one of the pillars framing the door, you closed your eyes and let out a sigh of contentment. Enjolras or not, you had a sizable appreciation for the peaceful night.
Like before, you were alone in the night, and like before, it didn't last long.
The door creaked open, gentler than it had last time, and light once more flooded the street.
"Ah, Mademoiselle, I was wondering if I would find you out here again."
You stood and turned towards the voice, pleased to see that the small smile on your face matched his own.
"I thought I had given you my name?"
He held up his hands in concession. "My apologies. Y/N, I was wondering if I would see you here again."
"Well, here I am,"
"Here you are indeed."
The moment's silence that followed was far more awkward than any silence had been last time, but he made no move to leave. You cleared your throat. "Working on a paper again?"
He chuckled. "I usually am. Marie is responsible for cleaning again?"
You nodded. "For the foreseeable future."
He nodded, and things were silent again.
It was his turn to clear his throat. "Care to take another walk? You can tell me what you thought of the meeting."
You stepped toward the street, looking back at him. "I thought you'd never ask."
And so you did walk. And again after the next meeting. And again after the next.
You talked of politics at first, but your conversations soon gave way to more personal matters. Talks of opinions, and the future. His favorite color was red. He was in law school. He told you he wanted to help people who couldn't help themselves, but he didn't need to say anything for you to figure that out. He was not warm or welcoming, not on the outside, but his compassion for others was evident in everything that he did.
You noticed that he started coming to the café far more regularly. At least once a week he would sit working silently in the most private corner of the upper room, never ordering, but he would always meet you at the end of the night for your walk.
You found yourself spending all your time thinking of him. He was on your mind in every idle moment. But still, you hesitated to admit why.
You fell into a routine on meeting nights, and no longer felt dread before attending them. On one such night, you were running a bit late. You hurriedly made your way up the stairs, only to be greeted outside the door by a seemingly flustered Enjolras.
He took you by the shoulders and guided you away from the doorframe.
Tucked in the corner of the hallway, he glanced worriedly over his shoulder. "Can Marie work tonight?" he asked.
You shook your head. “It’s just me and Papa tonight, actually. Marie is sick. I actually needed to talk to you about that. It’s why I was late up here and why I won’t be able to stay for the meeting tonight.”
“Let me take the drinks in, then,” he said. “Best that you get back downstairs.”
“Oh, that’s alright. It’ll only take me a moment,” you replied, trying to move past him.
“Y/N, please do not go in there.”
“What is this about, Enjorlas? You’re acting strange.”
“I will tell you later.”
You pushed past him, balancing your tray on one hand. “Or you could let me do my job,” you said, walking to the doorway. He reached out and grabbed your wrist.
“Y/N, please.”
You pulled your hand away and walked into the room. The second you entered, you were greeted with shouts of your name, accompanied by hearty laughter. The men were usually excited to get their drinks, but never this excited.
In the corner, one man grabbed his closest companion tightly. “Y/N, my love!” he cried, gazing into the other man’s eyes. “Nothing can tear us apart!”
The other man clasped his hands together and fluttered his eyelashes while speaking in a high pitched voice, “Oh, Enjolras, run away with me!”
“Enjolras” took “Y/N” into his embrace, the two of them writhing in what you could only assume was an exaggerated passionate kiss, earning plenty more laughs from the rest of the men.
You could do nothing but stare in horror as you watched the scene unfold in front of you. A gentle hand rested on your shoulder, and you looked up at Enjolras, your eyes still wide in shock. “Someone saw us out walking together, and the story spread,” he told you gravely. “I am truly sorry.”
You gently removed his hand from your shoulder, not wanting to give the men any more ideas than they already have, and your shocked expression morphed into a determined one. “You have nothing to apologize for, but these men do.”
You slammed the drink tray on the table, and the harsh sound was enough to gain everyone’s attention. “I don’t know what you all think is happening,” you began, “but I can guarantee that anything happening between Enjorlas and I is none of anyone’s business but our own. But since you must know, he has been teaching me politics so that I can better understand these meetings, which up until now, had been full of men I respected. My father does you all a great service by allowing you to meet here, and by disrespecting me, you disrespect him. Not to mention the disrespect to the man who leads you sorry lot.”
You pushed the drink tray to the center of the table. “Serve yourselves tonight.” Turning on your heel, you stormed out of the room. There was no protest, only deafening silence. You did not look back, remaining steady on your course, but if you had, you would have noticed the small proud smile on Enjolras’ face.
—--
You finished the clean up as fast as you could that night, in the hope that you would still be able to catch Enjolras before he left. To your dismay, you caught a glimpse of him leaving right around his usual time, even without Marie to kick him out. You finished up the rest of your work, feeling quite disappointed, and made your way outside regardless. May as well get some fresh night air if you still could.
To your surprise, you found a familiar figure waiting. Enjolras was silhouetted in the darkness of the street, but there was enough light to see when he outstretched his hand toward you. “Care to join me?” he asked.
Silently, you took his hand, and the pair of you began your usual stroll.
After some silence, he finally spoke. "Like I told you before, one of the boys saw us out walking after the last meeting. The mockery has been nonstop since. You have my sincerest apologies that you had to hear that."
"It's not your fault. We both know it means nothing."
But did it mean nothing? Not if you asked Marie. And maybe, just maybe, there was a small part of you that didn't quite mind what those men were saying.
"Nothing?" asked Enjolras, his voice tight.
You kept your sights straight ahead, unable to look him in the eyes. "I only mean to say that what we do is our business, no one else's."
He seemed to relax almost imperceptibly when you said that, and you couldn't decide if that made you feel better or worse.
Suddenly, you felt a droplet on your skin. Looking up at the sky, you could just make out the edges of the clouds in the inky darkness. You had barely made it a few more steps when the rain sped up, moving quickly from a drizzle to a downpour.
Almost instinctively, Enjolras shrugged off his coat and held it above the two of you, trying to offer the best protection he could from the rain. “This way,” he said, his voice raised slightly to be heard above the sound of droplets hitting the ground. He led you to a shop front with a small outcropping, where the two of you huddled, trying to stay as dry as possible. Despite Enjolras’ best efforts, though, both of you were soaking wet.
“Here,” he said, wrapping his coat around you. “We can wait here for a while until the rain slows down.”
“Oh, I don’t need this,” you tried to protest as you began to take off his coat. “Better that you stay dry, you’ve got a longer route home.”
“I insist,” he replied, pulling the coat around you once more. “I would be abandoning any gentlemanly values I have left if I let you give this back to me. Winter is creeping closer and this rain is freezing.”
You held his gaze for a moment, trying to gauge if you had any chance of convincing him to take it back, but were met only with his intense eyes and sheer determination behind them. Deciding that he really wasn’t going to take the coat back, you pulled it closer around you. He gently pulled his arm around you, and without even thinking about it, you nestled into his side. The soft pitter patter of the rain was peaceful, and you were pretty sure you could have fallen asleep there if you had wanted to.
“Y/N?” Enjolras broke the silence after a while.
“Yes?”
“I must confess something to you. I have to admit, I was not… completely bothered by what my men have been saying about us. I do not appreciate their mockery, but… I don’t mind when they talk of us being together.”
You pulled back, looking up at him in shock. “What are you saying?”
Reaching up to brush a strand of hair away from your face, he chose not to respond with words, instead moving his hand to your jawline and drawing you gently into his face, planting a light kiss on your lips. When he pulled away, your face was burning and you were left speechless. His gaze was darker than you had ever seen it before. Seeing the stunned look on your face, he stood and offered you his hand, refusing to meet your eyes again. “I’m sorry,” he said. “That was out of turn. Let’s get you home.”
You wanted to tell him that it wasn’t out of turn, that you felt the same way, but you were paralyzed, overwhelmed by your emotions, so you took his hand and made your way home through the downpour. You moved like a zombie, feelings burning bright on the inside, but unable to articulate any of it outwardly.
—--
Marie was asleep when you got back, and you quickly and silently got into bed, piling a few extra blankets on top to combat the steadily dropping temperatures. As you drifted off to sleep, your thoughts were filled with Enjolras, and you could only hope that he had made it home safely and warmly, and that you hadn't offended him too terribly.
—--
You woke the next day to white flurries outside your window. It was the first snow of the season, and it showed no signs of stopping. As of now, it was only a light dusting, but you were sure that by late afternoon the ground would be covered. Marie was up and about, having recovered from yesterday's sickness, and your father only spent part of the day out of his room, retiring early because of the cold’s poor effect on his old bones. You and Marie spent the evening by the warmth of the kitchen fire, chatting, reading, and working on various projects since no patrons had made their way through the thick snow that blanketed all by now. It grew darker outside and the snow grew higher. Marie had just begun to suggest heading to bead when you heard a knock at the door.
You exchanged worried glances and Marie quickly made her way to the front of the store, with you following close behind. She opened the door and let out a large gasp.
“Enjolras?” she said, clearly taken aback.
“Is Y/N there?”
She stepped aside, allowing him to see you. He rushed forward, gripping your shoulders firmly, as Marie shut the door behind him as fast as she could. He seemed to be completely unaffected by his blue lips or his usually curly hair that was frozen into frizzy chunks.
His gaze was more intense than you had ever seen it, his blue eyes seeming to bore into your very soul. “Y/N, I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t go another moment without seeing you again. Last night was all wrong, I know that, but I need you to know how I feel, and I need to say it properly.”
“That can wait,” you replied before he could continue. “We need to get you warmed up right now, before you get sick. I don’t need to explain to my neighbors why a rich boy died of frostbite in my home.”
“Marie,” you said, taking Enjolras’ hand and leading him to the kitchen, “will you grab my blankets from my bed and bring them down here? And see if there's any of Papa's old clothes about? I’m going to heat up some of our leftover dinner.”
Marie gave you a mischievous look, glancing back and forth between you and Enjolras, but for once in her life she kept quiet and did what was asked of her, and she scampered upstairs to get all the extra winter furs she could find.
“Take off every layer that you can without exposing yourself,” you told him. “Marie will bring back a change of clothes, but the wet clothes are going to be what kills you if you don’t get out of them.” He complied silently removing his coat and layer beneath that, leaving him only in a button down undershirt and trousers.
You busied yourself getting him something hot to eat. "Thank the Lord that Marie never cleans up after herself," you muttered to yourself when you noticed that she had left the pot she had used for dinner out above the fire, keeping the small amount of soup still inside of it warm.
The entire time, Enjolras' gaze never left you, waiting for you to relax for a moment before he spoke again. He would have to wait longer, though, because just as you set the soup in front of him, Marie entered the kitchen with a large pile of blankets. She set them down next to the hearth and brushed her hands together. "Well, unless you two need me any longer, I think I'll head up to bed."
"Alright. Thank you, Marie, goodnight," you said.
"Yes, thank you, Marie," Enjolras added.
Marie left, with a wink to you behind Enjolras’ back. Ignoring her goading, you turned toward the hearth, throwing your last log on and stoking the dying flames higher. When at last you were satisfied with your work, you turned to find Enjolras standing, and an empty bowl set on the table.
"Y/N I-"
You shoved a shirt and pants into his hands. "You're soaked to the bone. Change."
"You're avoiding this."
He was always too perceptive, wasn't he? Yes you were avoiding it. It wasn’t as simple as I love you and you love me. There was your status, his status, the work you had to do and the degree he was working towards. The revolution you were fighting.
You started to move past him, out of the kitchen, to give him some privacy. “Obviously. Regardless, you still need to change.” There was no denying that you were avoiding the subject to him- he knew you all too well.
His arm reached out, lightning fast, and he grabbed your arm, stopping you in your tracks. His grip was firm, but not painful. You avoided his gaze, waiting for him to let you go, or say something. “Help me, then.”
You looked up, finally making eye contact. You could see the dare dancing behind his eyes. He knew it would be improper. He also knew you would do anything he asked of you. Without breaking eye contact, he slid his hand down your arm and took your hand, slowly guiding it up to the top button of his shirt. You stood silent and stony faced, weighing your options. Finally caving, you reached up with your other hand and began undoing his shirt, slowly, your fingers brushing lightly against his skin with every button.
“You’re upset,” he said, his voice low.
“You noticed?” The sarcasm dripped from your question.
“I notice everything about you.”
You clenched your jaw as you undid the last button and he shrugged the shirt off of his shoulders. You turned slightly to the side, trying to avoid looking at his bare torso. From noticing the way his skin gleamed in the firelight. From watching the way that the melted snow ran down his body.
“Why did you come here tonight?” you asked.
“I told you. I did not get a chance to tell you how I felt properly. Nor did I give you a chance to respond.”
“At the risk of your life? You could have gotten lost in this storm, and then what? You wander for hours until you freeze to death?”
“You truly think so little of my navigation skills?”
You rolled your eyes. “Say your piece then.”
He stepped towards you, taking your chin in his hand and slowly guiding your face to look at his. “I have never met anyone who makes me as happy as you do. I count down the minutes until our next walk together. I want to be with you as much as possible. Seeing you only once in a while is not enough for me. You are smart, hard-working, and kind, and I want a future with you. I love you, Y/N.”
For all your bravado, your angry facade melted the moment he finished speaking. Your voice was weak, barely above a whisper. “Never did I think I would hear you say those words. I love you too, Enjolras.”
This time, you initiated the kiss. It was far more passionate than the last. Enjolras kept one hand firmly on the side of your face, and snaked the other around your waist, pulling you close to him as you wrapped your arms around his neck. You kissed him until you couldn’t anymore, finally having to come up for air. You pressed your forehead to his, panting slightly.
The reality of what happened suddenly hit you. You had just kissed Enjolras, who was currently holding you very tightly against his very bare chest. And the air around you was still freezing. Gently, you pushed yourself away from him. “Finish changing,” you told him. “I’ll be right back with more firewood.”
He smiled. You had never seen him smile so brightly. “Come back quickly,'' he whispered as you left.
—--
The cold outside was unbearable, even in the back alley behind the café where you stored the firewood. How had Enjolras made the journey all the way from his school in this? Grabbing a bundle, you rushed back inside, hurrying back to the kitchen and its warmth. When you entered, you found a fully clothed Enjolras curled up in the large pile of blankets on the floor next to the hearth.
“Y/N!” he exclaimed, the worry evident on his face. “You’re shivering!”
You raised an eyebrow. “You’re one to talk. I’m glad you have the color back in your cheeks. You had me worried.” You threw more logs on the fire, stoking the flames to a much more considerable size. You set down the poker, but did not get the chase to stand before you were being pulled into a mass of fur and warmth. Before you knew it, you were once again wrapped in Enjolras’ embrace. Surrounded by blankets and his strong arms, you were so warm.
“Please stay,” he said gently.
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving.”
He kissed the top of your head, and you were lulled to sleep by his gentle breathing and the sounds of the crackling flames.
—--
When you woke, Enjolras was still asleep. Judging by the dying flames in the fireplace, it had only been a few hours.
Carefully, you removed yourself from Enjolras’ embrace and out of the pile of blankets. You wanted nothing more than to stay with him, but you would prefer to not have to explain to your father why you were in such a compromising position.
"I wouldn't dream of leaving" you had told him only a little while ago, but you knew he would understand.
Silently, you made your way to your room. Making a stop at Marie’s room, you stole a few of the blankets off of her massive pile and curled up in your bed, drifting back to sleep with a smile on your face and warmth in your heart.
—--
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes and pushed yourself out of bed. Marie's door was still shut, and as you walked out of your room, you saw your father's door wide open, with him nowhere inside. You grimaced, hoping that he hadn't been too upset after finding Enjolras.
As you made your way downstairs, you were astonished to hear your father's hearty laughter from the kitchen. Of course, you really shouldn't have been. Your father had always sympathized with Les Amis de l'ABC, and he had no way of knowing what Enjolras had said or done last night. You shivered as you remembered his gentle touch and the way he held you.
Rounding the corner you were greeted by your father and Enjolras, who were talking at one of the tables in the main seating area.
"Good morning chouchou!" your father called. "Enjolras has been telling me of you and Marie's heroics last night."
Enjolras nodded. "It was quite foolish of me to think I could visit Grantaire and make it back to my own home before the worst of the storm hit. I am incredibly grateful I was able to stop here," he said, giving you a pointed look as he subtly filled you in on the story he had told your father.
"I'm just glad you were not stranded out in the storm," you told him, taking a seat at the table.
"You can imagine my surprise when I found him curled up next to our fireplace this morning," your father said. "Speaking of, I should go prepare breakfast. I was a bit distracted after finding Enjolras." He gave you a quick pat on the shoulder and disappeared into the kitchen.
You turned to Enjolras, your voice lowered so your father could not hear. "You lied to him?"
"I didn't know if you wanted him to know or not," he replied. "Should I have told him the truth?"
You thought for a moment, and then shook your head. "Give it a little more time, I think. We're only just figuring it out."
Before he could reply, your father stuck his head out from the kitchen. "Y/N, would you go wake Marie? Breakfast will only be a few minutes."
—--
For a day trapped inside, it flew by surprisingly quickly. Once Marie joined you, your group spent much of the day around the table, talking and exchanging stories. The snow had stopped, but your father insisted that Enjolras stay one night more to give the drifts that covered the streets more time to melt. After several protests, Enjolras agreed.
Your father and Marie had turned in for the night (Marie far too eagerly), leaving you and Enjolras completely alone, just like the night before. You fiddled with the hem of your sleeve, unsure of what to say.
"Alone at last," Enjolras remarked.
"Indeed," you replied, your tone light and teasing. "What to do?"
He smiled fully, a rare sight to see. "I have a few ideas."
He leaned across the table, meeting you halfway, as he captured your lips in a kiss just as passionate as the one from the night before. Slowly, without breaking the kiss, he stood and maneuvered you so that you were sitting on the table, him standing between your legs. You ran your fingers through his silky blond curls, tangling your hands in his hair as you drew him closer to you.
Eventually you had to stop. The short pauses between kisses was not nearly enough to catch your breath.
You broke away, the both of you panting, and you buried your head in Enjolras’ neck.
"I love you," he whispered.
You slowly pulled away, the lightheartedness of the past few moments fading as reality crashing back down on you. "Enjolras, I think we need to talk about that."
His brow furrowed. "I thought you told me you loved me too."
You sighed, unable to meet his eyes. "I do it's just-"
"Go on." His voice was low, gravely serious, but not threatening. You felt safe with him, you always had.
"You are in a completely different class of society than I am. I know you don't care, but that does not change the obstacles that come along with it if we want a future together. And the revolution! How can we truly commit to one another if the most important thing is France?"
When he didn't respond, you raised your eyes to finally meet his and saw that his gaze had softened considerably as had his words when he finally spoke. "We can face those challenges together, when they come. And the revolution is not an obstacle so long as our love for this city binds us together."
You nodded, a silent agreement to his reassurement. He took your face in his hands. "I know you, Y/N, and you know me. Our love for each other is stronger than anything the world can throw our way."
"I'm going to hold you to that," you whispered.
"You had better."
You leaned back into him, planting a kiss on his lips, far gentler than the one before.
"I should probably go up to my own bed," you told him, your voice all too easily betraying your hesitating to leave him.
"Goodnight, chérie," he said, placing a kiss on your brow before he moved to the side, allowing you to hop off the table and walk past him.
You didn't get very far when you felt him grab your hand and spin you around until he was holding you tightly against him once more and pressing one last kiss to your lips.
You broke away and brushed a golden lock of hair away from his eyes. "Goodnight Enjolras, I will see you in the morning."
—--
Enjolras left early the next morning, the snow having melted enough for him to make the journey safely. "A few days' time," he told you, "Then I will be back for a Les Amis de l'ABC meeting."
You helped your father work in the kitchen, preparing for the guests that would surely arrive that afternoon now that the snow had subsided. Marie worked on cleaning tables and floors in the outer rooms.
"So," your father began. "You and Enjolras?"
You froze, your eyes widening at the unexpected comment. "Whatever do you mean, Papa?"
Your father laughed heartily. "You think that I do not notice? You look at that man like he is the greatest thing you have seen, and he looks at you the same way. Not to mention the walks you two have been taking for quite some time now."
You stared in disbelief. "You knew?"
"Of course I knew. You and Marie aren't as secretive as you think you are. I'm happy for you chouchou. Enjolras is a good man, and I can tell he makes you happy."
"Thank you, Papa," you said sheepishly. You scooped up the pile of inventory you had been working on and left the kitchen to take it to the storage, shaking your head and muttering to yourself, "He knew the whole time." Try as you might, though, you couldn't shake the smile from your face.
—---
The rest of the night was largely uneventful. Customers came in, you served them, and they left. You and Marie were cleaning up for the night when a familiar face burst through the door.
"Oh no!" the girl said, looking around at the empty space. "Are you closed already?"
"Never for you, Eponine!" A grin spread across your face at the sight of your old friend. You hurried towards her, pulling her into a hug. "Where have you been? I haven't seen you in months, and Gavroche never gives me a straight answer when I ask him!"
"My parents were busted in a scam and we had to flee to the countryside. We've only just returned," she replied, squeezing you tightly.
"And what of Gavroche?" you asked. "He has been here the whole time! Has someone been caring for him?"
She nodded. "There was no time to take Gavroche when we ran, but we knew he would be able to stay with one of Les Amis. He's been staying with Courfeyrac, I believe."
"Oh, Eponine," you said, "I wish you would just come and work here. We could give you an honest living and lodgings, and you would not need to live a life on the run."
"Y/N, you know I couldn't. My father is far too vengeful, and I would never want to put you and your family in danger."
You sighed. "I know Eponine. Just remember our doors are always open. Truly, I am just glad you are back."
“You must catch me up,” she said, suddenly excited as she pulled you down to sit at a table.
“Well,” you began with a smile, “I have made good friends with Les Amis de l’ABC.”
Eponine’s shock was evident. “You? Getting all buddy buddy with the politicians?”
“You know I have never been one for politics, but it is far more than that. It is the very roots of our society that must change.”
Eponine laughed. “You sound like Enjolras!”
You shrugged and looked down sheepishly, a small smile on your face, and Eponine gasped. “What?” she asked.
“Two days ago he told me that he loved me.”
Eponine stared, her mouth agape. She leaned back in her seat, shaking her head silently. “You and Enjolras, of all people. Who would have thought?”
—--
Your time with Enjolras was a blur, filled with joy and passion - for one another and for the revolution.
You went to meetings and rallies, him hardly letting you out of his sight in the crowds. But most importantly, you had continued your nighttime walks, that brief moment of bliss that the two of you could share together, away from the rest of the world.
And you were ever so thankful for those moments, because you had something big planned.
Tonight he stopped in front of the Café Musain, took you in his arms, and kissed you, just as he always did. Spring was in full force, and the warm air danced around you. But instead of going inside, as per usual, you grabbed his hands and pulled him around the back of the building.
“Y/N, what are you-”
“Shh,” you hushed him. “Follow me.” You began to scale the side of the building, the hand and foot holds familiar to you. You hoisted yourself onto the roof, looking down at your lover following, although somewhat slower than you had been. When he was within reach, you grabbed his hand and pulled him up to you, a little too forcefully, causing him to stumble over the ledge and into your arms.
“Fancy meeting you here,” you said quietly, still holding him close. He smiled, something that was becoming rarer and rarer these days, and began to lean in for yet another kiss- not that you ever tired of them- when something gave him pause. He stepped back from you, although he did not drop your hand, and surveyed the roof, eyes wide in astonishment.
“Y/N, what is this?” he asked, gesturing to the scenic roof that Eponine and Marie had helped you prepare earlier that day. A dozen or so candles flickered in the night, illuminating a simple blanket adorned with flowering embroidery. The flowers on the blanket matched the small basket that eponine had brought, filled with a flower arrangement. You pulled him down to sit on the blanket with you and pulled out another basket, this one filled with the food that you had made that morning. Pulling out the contents, you spread them around the two of you. “It’s a picnic,” you told him. “I made it for us. I thought it might be romantic.”
Enjolras smiled again, and it warmed your heart. “It’s amazing Y/N,” he said.
You pushed some food towards him. “Eat,” you said, “I’ll be right back.”
As he ate, you opened the door on the corner of the roof and dropped the ladder. You climbed inside the café and dashed to your room, grabbing a box and quickly running back to the roof. You took your place back on the blanket and handed him the box, slightly fidgety with impatience. “This is for you.”
“Chérie, you know I do not expect gifts. You did not have to-”
You waved your hand, dismissing his protests. “Just open it.”
After one last pointed look towards you, he complied, and opened the box, pulling out the contents with a shocked look on his face. He slowly felt the fabric as he looked up at you. “Y/N, this is beautiful.” You swelled with pride as your hard work was appreciated, watching him admire the red jacket you had made him.
“I worked some shifts at the sewing shop to afford the nicer fabric,” you told him. “And then I spent my evenings working on it. The buttons,” you scooted closer to him to point them out, “are the best part.” You ran your finger over one, and in the candlelight you could see the inscription on the metal. ABC.
“Y/N,” he said softly, wonder in his eyes, “this is amazing.”
“You did say red was your favorite, right?” you asked.
“I did,” he said, shrugging on the jacket. “It’s perfect Y/N.”
“I do not have much to give,” you told him, “but I wanted you to have something to remind you of me.”
“I do not need to be reminded, Y/N, for you are always in my thoughts. But this jacket is now my most prized possession.”
You smiled. “Good. I am glad you like it.”
—--
Time went on, and as it did, political tensions rose. And as political tensions rose, so did Enjolras’ stress. He was more distant, and the more you tried to reach him, the more he withdrew. He was becoming short tempered and irritable, and you did most of the talking on your walks.
Why could you not comfort him like you used to? Was your presence no longer enough?
You waited for him tonight, as you always did after meetings, and when he exited the café, he did not offer you his arm, simply rushed past you.
“Apologies, Y/N,” he called over his shoulder, not breaking stride, “but I have far too much to do. I will try to make time to see you soon, but it may need to wait until the meeting next week.”
Before you could even reply, he was out of earshot, and you were left alone on the stairs of the Café Musain.
—--
The next day, you rose bright and early, a mission on your mind.
Quickly dressing and grabbing a bite to eat, you made your way downstairs, passing by a barely awake Marie
"Where are you off to?" she slurred, still mostly asleep.
You sighed. "To find Enjolras. I should have said something to him sooner, because he's been so stressed lately, but I didn't want to bring it up. But then he skipped our walk last night…"
Marie raised her eyebrows, the fogginess of sleep seemingly disappearing instantaneously. "He skipped your walk? He's never missed one, has he?"
You shook your head. "I'm worried about him, Marie. Only a few weeks ago we were as thick as thieves, but since we've received the news of Lamarque's sickness he's like a completely different man."
She placed a comforting hand on your shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "You'll find him, Y/N, and you'll help him through this, I know it."
You nodded your thanks and made your way out to the street only to be startled by Gavroche, dashing across the street with some of his friends.
Perfect.
"Gavroche!" You called after him. "Gavroche, I need your help!"
The young boy spun on his heel and sprinted towards you as his friends continued onward. “Whad'ya need, Y/N?”
You crouched down to his level to speak to him. “I need to go to Enjolras’ apartment. Do you know where it is?”
He nodded, but then his brow furrowed. “Haven’t you been seeing him? Why don’t you know where he lives?”
You sighed. “I’ve never had cause to visit him alone in his apartment, but I’m afraid that he sorely needs my company, even if he refuses it. Can you show me the way?”
“Absolutely!” he said, and he stuck out his hand as you stood up. You gave him a stern look, but dropped a few francs in his hand. Lord knows the boy needed it more than you did.
You followed him down the city street, passing through familiar shops and homes, before he finally stopped in front of a small building wedged between two much larger ones. “This is it!” he told you. “I deliver his letters here all the time.”
You ruffled his hair. “Thank you, Gavroche. Do you know if Eponine will be at the meeting next week.”
“That depends,” he said with a laugh. “Will Marius be there?” Before you could respond, he ran back in the direction you came, no doubt meaning to catch up with his friends.
You felt a twinge of pity for Eponine. Her unrequited love towards Marius had been tearing her to pieces, and you could hardly bear to watch her fall to shambles like this.
Take care of Enjolras first, you told yourself, then you can worry about Eponine.
Steeling yourself, you approached the door and gave it a sharp knock. You waited, but no response. Another sharp knock.
“Go away!” called a voice faintly.
No way in hell you were going to do that. Jiggling the handle slightly, you were pleased to find that it was unlocked. The door opened with a quiet creaking and you slipped inside.
You rounded the corner of the main entryway and what you saw made your heart sink. Enjolras was slumped over his desk, his hair a mess, his clothes crumpled, and the entire room in disarray. You stepped forward, and your shoe clinked against a glass left on the ground.
“Get out,” he muttered, sounding groggy.
You pressed forward, approaching him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Enjolras, it’s just me.”
He turned toward you, giving you an appraising look, but he quickly looked back down at his work. “I said get out.”
You raised an eyebrow. His words were slurred, and you could smell the sharp stench of alcohol on his breath. “Enjolras, have you been drinking?” You had barely known him to have a single drink, much less get drunk.
“It does not matter. Now, if you would leave me be, I have matters to attend to. Letters to write, rallies to plan.” He batted your hand away.
Not satisfied with his answer, you snatched the letter he was currently working on out from under him. “Dear Commander,” you began, reading his work aloud.
“Hear the the pleas the cries of the people who we need we need assistance. I beg your well wished and timely response.”
You tossed the letter back on the desk. “Enjolras, this is incomprehensible! You need to take a break. You need rest.”
He leaned back in his chair, placing one hand over his eyes. As the sunlight from the window illuminated the panes of his face, you noticed the thin layer of stubble that covered his usually clean-shaven visage. “There is no time for rest,” he told you. “Every day, Lamarque is nearer to drawing his final breath, and we are running out of time.”
You took his chin in your hand, guiding him to look up at you. “All your efforts will be for naught if you kill yourself in the process. Rest, Enjolras, please. You need sleep just as the rest of us do.”
“Fine,” he sighed, rubbing his eyes. “Fine. I will take a break.”
You kissed his forehead. “Good. Come on now.”
Seeing as there was no bedroom on the first floor, you guided him up to the second floor, and like you had all those weeks ago when he had turned up half frozen on your doorstep, you slowly undressed him, allowing him to feel your hands on his skin at every opportunity as you rid him of his dirty clothes and helped him into a pair of clean nightclothes. He was silent, and kept his eyes closed, but you could feel the tension in his body slowly melt away as you tended to him.
He laid in bed, and you sat on the edge beside him, using a damp washcloth to wipe the sheen of sweat from his face.
“Thank you, my love,” he said quietly as you finished up.
You brushed the side of his face gently with your hand. "I only wish that you would speak to me instead of working yourself to the bone."
"I'm sorry," he said, placing a gentle kiss on the palm of your hand. "You deserve much better than a man like me."
This gave you pause. "What is it then, that you think I deserve?"
"A lover whose focus is on you, not France. You deserve to be happy."
"What did you tell me, when I said nearly the same thing? You are not fighting for France alone, my love, I am fighting with you. Together, always. I am the happiest I have ever been."
You leaned in close, a teasing smile on your face. "Except, of course, when you choose to ignore me instead of telling me what's wrong." You planted a kiss on his lips, feeling his smile against your mouth.
"You're right," he whispered. "You're always right."
And with that, he wrapped one arm around your waist and pulled you down on the sheets next to him. "Please stay," he whispered.
"I wouldn't dream of leaving," you replied.
—--
Together you worked. Together you built a revolution, rushing to tie up as many loose ends as possible before the inevitable: Lamarque's death. Meetings were more frantic, rallies more crowded and more prone to intervention by law enforcement. But you stayed by his side and he stayed by yours.
You rushed through the square, glancing up at a nearby clocktower. Enjolras would be expecting you by now, but no matter, you would watch the rally from the crowds like everyone else did, rather than by his side as usual. You pushed to the front, muttering apologies to deaf ears, as no conversation was comprehensible in the massive crowd.
"Lamarque is the only one who stands for the common folk, the only one in our government who fights the wealthy elite in our name! But he is ill, and fading fast!" you heard Marius' voice ring above the crowd.
You pushed further forward and then there, up on the stage, you saw Enjolras. He looked almost angelic, the sun streaming through his hair, passion written on his features.
"How long do we suffer for their benefit before we take what's ours and cut the fat ones down to size?" your lover cried. "Join us in our rebellion! Join us at the barricades!"
Just then, the police burst in from the opposite side of the square, sending the crowd into a frenzy as they rushed to clear the area. The entire time, the students were shouting to the people to not give in, to meet again the following week in the same place for another rally.
You moved against the crowd struggling to stay upright. People were moving in every direction. Which direction was Lamarque’s home? Which was the police? The world was spinning and you had lost all sense of direction, until by some blessed luck, you ran into Marius. “Marius!” you cried, grabbing his arm. “Where is Enjolras?”
“He’s near, he’ll meet us back at the Musain.”
You followed him through the crowd, and soon the people thinned out, and you saw a flash of red ahead.
“Enjolras!” you cried, rushing forward to reach him. He turned quickly at the sound of your voice, and swept you into his arms as you came towards him, holding you tightly against his chest.
“Y/N,” he said into your hair, “I thought you had not made it to the rally today.”
“I was just late,” you replied, your voice shaking. “After the panic, I could not find you. I feared something had happened to you.”
He rubbed small circles onto your back. “It would take far more than a mob to get rid of me. From here on out, we will travel to rallies together. With tensions rising, it is far too dangerous to go on your own.”
You nodded against his chest, still gripping him tight.
“Come now,” he said, releasing you from his embrace, but grabbing on to your hand instead. “Let us go prepare for tonight’s meeting. We will have much to cover.”
—--
The students were gathered together now, and energy was crackling throughout the room. Throughout France, the people were beginning to rise in protest. Notre Dame, rue-du-Bac, everywhere, they were eager to stand and fight.
“The time to rebel is fast approaching, '' began Enjolras. “The people are stirring, rising up with us for the common good of France. I need you all to stay sharp.” He shot a pointed look at Grantaire, who was chugging from a bottle of wine. “The National Guard outmatches us by far. We need a sign that will unite the people, that will call them to arms.”
“Marius, wake up!” Joly shouted across the room. Marius looked dazed, completely indifferent to the meeting happening around him. “You look as if you’ve seen a ghost! What’s gotten into you today?”
“Some wine and say what’s going on?” Grantaire offered.
“A ghost,” Marius mused. “Yes, she was like a ghost. There one moment, gone the next.”
Grantaire laughed, the sound almost barking. “Marius has found himself a girl at long last! I am aghast! Never have I seen him in such a state. Why, it’s better than the opera!”
Your stomach dropped as you thought of Eponine. Did she know of Marius' mystery woman? By some stroke of luck, was it Eponine?
“Marius, now is not the time.” Enjolras said. “Is this what we must fight for now? The right to sit around and talk of women? The right to a night at the opera? This is real life men, not a game for a few young, rich, fools to play. We are coming out of a dark age, my brothers, but there is a red dawn at the end of this black night.”
“You should know how it feels, Enjolras,” Marius protested. “When you see Y/N, are you not struck to the bone in breathless delight? Does she not fill your vision with a burst of light each time you think of her?”
“Yeah, Enjolras,” you said playfully, nudging him slightly. “Do I not do that for you?”
He shot you a sharp look that said “Now is not the time to make light of the situation.”
“What I feel for Y/N is not relevant at the moment, and she knows that as well as I do. If your woman was here, helping with the rebellion, we would not be having this discussion. We all have a higher call now, a larger goal, one far more important than finding solace for our lonely souls. Feel how you must Marius, but you are no longer a child, and we need to be present at these meetings. Our little lives are nothing in comparison to the whole of France.”
“Hear, hear!” you cried, raising your glass at Enjolras’ words.
“Hear, hear!” the men echoed.
“Listen, everybody!” The group turned sharply toward the doorway, where Gavroche stood waiting. “General Lamarque is dead!”
You drew in a sharp breath. You knew it was coming, had known for a while now, but it was still jarring to hear the words aloud.
“Lamarque,” said Enjolras. “The people’s man, fallen at last. His death is the sign we have been awaiting.” He grew more confident as the plan solidified in his mind. “His funeral day will be soon, and there we will gather to honor his name. There will be a crowd there, a massive one, of the people who knew Lamarque to be the last truly good man in our government, and from their candles of grief we will kindle the flames of rebellion. The tomb of Lamarque shall lay the foundations for our barricade, for the freedom of all of France!”
He was met with cheers and jubilant shouting. You silently took his hand in yours, and he looked to you with more hope in his eyes than you had seen in months. “Tomorrow!” he yelled to his men. “Tomorrow we meet again and prepare here. Bring what ammunition and supplies you can find, we will need all you can get!”
The men trickled out, and as the uproar died down, Enjolras muttered to you, “You remember our night on the roof?”
You nodded.
“Could you take me there now?”
—--
You did as he asked, leading him up to the trapdoor in the ceiling that led to the roof, and soon the two of you were alone in the cool night air. As soon as the door was shut, Enjolras pulled you into a kiss, kissing you far more passionately than he had in a while. “We’re close,” he finally said. Another short kiss. “So close.”
You held him tight. “I’m proud of you, Enjolras. You’re changing the world."
"I could not have made it this far without you, ma chérie."
"Then into the new world we ride," you told him. "Together."
You couldn't place the look on his face. Hesitant, maybe?
"I have two things I must ask of you , my love."
"Anything," you replied.
He released you from his embrace and backed away a bit. He reached for something small in his pocket and then took a deep breath before kneeling.
"Y/N, since the day I met you, my world has been brighter, more hopeful. You occupy much of my thoughts, and to be apart from you is the worst fate I could imagine." His eyes, so often your only windows into what he was feeling, were shining with emotion. "You have already done so much for me, but would you do me the greatest honor of all and become my wife?"
Tears welled in your eyes, threatening to fall. All you could do at first was nod, for fear of bursting into sobs, but eventually you were able to croak a small, "Yes."
In an instant, Enjolras was on his feet, kissing your face over and over muttering "Thank you," and "I love you," over and over. He slipped a ring onto your finger, and you held your hand up to examine it. It was a simple band, nothing ornate, but it was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.
"I will get you a nicer one someday soon," he told you. "I had not planned on doing this tonight, but after the rally this morning, when you clung to me in the streets, I knew that I couldn't wait another day to ask you."
"I don't want a more expensive one," you told him. "It would never mean as much as this does."
He held you close and rested his head against yours. His jaw was tense, almost as if he was in pain.
"Enjolras?" You asked, raising a hand to his face. "Are you alright?"
He inhaled sharply at your touch. "I'm afraid there is one more thing I must ask of you."
"What is it?" you asked, your eyes searching his.
"I need you to take your father and sister and leave the city."
Your blood ran cold. "What?"
"It's far too dangerous here. I cannot- I will not- be the reason you get hurt."
You stepped away from him, disbelief written over your features. "What happened to together Enjolras?" You held up your left hand, now adorned with a ring. "I made a promise to bind myself to you only moments ago, and now you ask me to break that promise?"
"Y/N-"
"No! I am sick of this, Enjolras. When I agreed to see you, you told me that this revolution was something we would fight together, and now you try and send me away!"
"Y/N, we are fighting together, but I need you to stay away from the actual battle. I could never live with myself if you were hurt."
"What about me? How do you expect me to sit by while you risk yourself? I will arrange for Papa and Marie to leave, but I will not abandon our cause in its hour of need. I will not abandon you."
He held your gaze, the stubborn look in his eye no doubt matching your own.
"Fine," he finally said gruffly. "But if you are going to stay, you have to follow orders, the same as the rest of my men. Regardless of what you think, I need to keep you safe."
"Of course," you nodded. "So long as you don't order me to leave."
"I won't."
You embraced him once more. "I love you, Enjolras."
"I love you too, ma chérie."
—--
Marie and your father were gone. There was some protest about you staying behind, but they saw the way you clung to Enjolras' hand, and had been watching the way you had thrown yourself into revolution work the past few months. They packed up what things they needed and left for an inn on the outskirts of Paris.
The next day was a blur. Preparing was busy work. You organized weaponry and ammunition, you helped deliver messages to other rebel groups across the city, and you kept Enjolras from losing his head.
One day more, and then you would be in the fight of your lives.
The students prepared late into the night, and eventually, there was simply no more that could be done. Most stayed the night, setting up a makeshift camp on the second floor of the Musain. You and Enjolras once again found yourselves on the roof, looking over the city at night, pondering the challenge that tomorrow would bring.
“Are you ready?” you asked him.
“As I’ll ever be.”
Silence once more. The comfortable silence took you back to all those months ago. The time that you had first met, and the walks that ensued. The time that you had spent together, simply enjoying one another’s presence.
“Y/N?”
“Yes?”
“Will you marry me?”
“Unless I’m remembering incorrectly, we’ve already had this conversation. Is the stress getting to you so much that you forget?”
“No,” he said. “Will you marry me tonight? Right now?”
You were taken aback. “Now? That’s a bit soon.”
“We may not have another chance,” he said grimly, and for a moment, the gravity of tomorrow weighed on your mind once more, but you quickly pushed it back. You were as prepared as you could be. You had to keep reminding yourself of that.
“Alright,” you said slowly. “Let’s get married then.”
—--
Soon, Les Amis de l’ABC were gathered in the upper room of the Musain, like so many times before. Unlike usual, however, you were there to celebrate a union, rather than plot the downfall of the monarchy.
Combeferre was chosen to officiate, as he was widely regarded as the second in command of Les Amis. You and Enjolras stood facing each other, hands clasped together.
“We are gathered here on this night to celebrate the union between two of our most core members,” Combeferre began. “Enjolras, you have bravely led us through all our trials, and continue to do so even now. Y/N, you have only been with us a short time, but in that period you have shown tenacity and passion in all that you do. I understand you each have something to say?”
You smiled up at your fiancé. His features were softer than they had been in a while, and his smile was more relaxed. He was less tense, like his stress had all but vanished, if only for a little while. “Enjolras,” you said, completely lost in his eyes, “I have no idea where I would be if not for you. Not only did you show me love, but you opened my eyes to a world beyond my own, and to the possibility of a better future. If I could do it all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing, because as long as I have you, I know that I will be alright. However tomorrow ends, I am grateful that we will be fighting for France hand in hand, as husband and wife.”
Enjolras took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was no doubt one of the biggest challenges he would have to face in the coming days: being emotionally vulnerable in front of his friends. “Y/N, I still cannot place what it was, but the first night you came into our meetings, you left your mark upon my very soul. I have thought of you every day since then, and I could not ask for a better woman to call my wife. You care for me when I don’t deserve it, and remind me again and again that I am stronger than the things holding me back. I love you more than I could ever articulate, and I will never be able to thank you enough for agreeing to marry me."
Combeferre nodded curtly. "Now-"
"Wait!" you said. "Gavroche, it's time."
The young boy dashed up to the front of the room and handed you something.
"Thank you, Gavroche," you said.
"Something for you, something for me?" he asked hopefully, earning a chuckle from yourself and many of the students gathered there.
"After we finish up here," you told him, ruffling his hair. He grinned up at you and ran back to his seat. Turning back to Enjolras, you noticed his look of confusion.
"I really wanted to exchange rings," you began, "so I raided my father's small jewelry collection. He's been saving it in case we ever fell on hard times, but I don’t think he would mind." You opened your hand to reveal your engagement ring and a similar band that you had found. "I think it belonged to my grandfather," you told him as you handed him your ring.
You took his left hand and gingerly slipped the ring onto his finger, and he mimicked your actions with your ring.
"Now," Combeferre started over when you had finished. "Enjolras, do you vow to take Y/N as your wife and cherish her through all times, bad and good, until the end of your days?"
"I do," he said, practicing glowing.
"Y/N, do you vow to take Enjolras as your husband and cherish him through all times, bad and good, until the end of your days?'
You nodded, trying to keep your voice from shaking. "I do."
Combeferre smiled. "Then I now pronounce you husband and wife. Enjolras, you may kiss the bride."
Enjolras’ lips were on yours in an instant, like he had been waiting for this moment the entire time. He dipped you down low, earning quite a few wolf whistles and cheers from the students.
He helped you back upright and there was a smattering of applause from your companions, as well as some very loud sobs from Grantaire.
"Would you be quiet?" Marius asked from next to him, nudging him slightly before snatching the nearly empty bottle of alcohol from his hand.
"I'm sorry" Grantaire half blubbered, half slurred. "Weddings make me emotional."
"So does liquor," Marius muttered.
"You're drunk, Grantaire," your husband said, arm around your waist. "Get to bed. In fact, all of you should get some sleep. We have a long day ahead of us tomorrow."
The members of Les Amis de l'ABC filed out of the room, off to their respective sleeping spots, when you noticed a slip of a boy with his hat pulled down over his brow trying to leave out the back.
"One moment," you muttered to Enjolras, and you followed the figure out the door. "Eponine," you called after "him." "I know it's you."
She paused, then turned back towards you. "I'm sorry, Y/N. I wanted to be there, but I didn't want to face Marius."
You hugged her. "That's all right 'Ponine. I'm just glad you came. And I'm sorry to hear about Marius. What girl has got him acting like this anyhow?"
She shrugged. "Some rich girl named Cosette. I grew up with her, actually."
"You're far too good for him anyways," you told her. "Any man worth his salt would be lucky to have you."
She tried to smile, but it didn't quite reach her eyes. "Thank you, Y/N. I'll be alright on my own tonight. Go back to your husband."
You hesitated, not wanting to leave her when she so clearly needed a friend.
"Go," she said.
"Well if you're that eager to be rid of me…"
"Congratulations, Y/N," she said, and she was soon out of sight.
—--
You couldn't help but worry for her, but your mood brightened when you found Enjolras waiting for you.
"Come on," you told him. "Let's spend our first night as husband and wife together."
—--
The second the door to your room was shut, his mouth was on yours. You laughed a bit at his eagerness before surrendering yourself to the kiss.
He guided you backwards until the back of your legs hit your bed frame. "Do you trust me?" he asked breathlessly. You nodded.
He lifted you into his arms and laid you down on the bed. He leaned over you, his hair falling around his face like a curtain. "I love you, Y/N."
"I love you too, Enjolras."
That night was bliss like you had never felt it. Enjolras was gentle and rough and kind and passionate all at the same time. It seemed like you were there for an eternity. When you held you in his arms at the end of the night, you wished it truly had gone on forever.
“Please stay, Enjolras.”
“I wouldn’t dream of leaving.”
—--
The next morning, you woke to him standing at the foot of your bed, buttoning his red coat. A small grin cracked on his face when he saw you stir. “Good morning, chérie.”
You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, pushing yourself up to a sitting position. “You should have woken me when you got up.”
He bent over and placed a kiss on your brow. “You looked so peaceful, that I just couldn’t disturb you. Do you own a shirt and trousers?”
You nodded. “Somewhere around here.”
“Wear them today then. You may get a few stares at the funeral procession, but I would rather you be wearing something more practical for what follows.”
Groaning at your stiff muscles, you pushed yourself out of bed and began to rifle through the small trunk that held your clothes. You tossed what you needed onto your bed, and Enjolras picked them up.
"Allow me?"
You nodded, and your new husband helped you into the outfit, which was just baggy enough to hide any curves and make you look like a young boy.
"You've never looked so lovely," he said jokingly.
You rolled your eyes and grabbed your two cockades from the nightstand and handed one to him. He pinned it on your lapel, and you did the same for him.
"I love you, my beautiful wife.”
You grinned. “I love you too, my beautiful husband.”
—--
You stood at the front of the crowd, watching Lamarque’s funeral procession slowly parade down the street. You held Enjolras’ hand tightly in one hand, and Eponine’s in the other, although a bit more discreetly. You didn’t think she wanted anyone to know that she was there. Quietly, Les Amis started singing. It was a song you had heard many times before, but still gave you chills. You added your voice to the choir.
Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the song of angry men
It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again
The surrounding crowd looked around in confusion, but slowly, they started joining in.
When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drum
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes
The voices crescendoed, and soon the vast majority of the people were singing.
Will you join in our crusade
Who will be strong and stand with me?
Beyond the barricade is there a world you long to see?
Enjolras gave your hand one last brief squeeze before jumping out into the middle of the procession, waving a bright red flag for all of Paris to see.
Then join in the fight that will give you the right to be free!
Following his lead, Les Amis ran for it, crowding the funeral procession, and a few bolder onlookers in the crowd did the same.
Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the song of angry men
Somewhere in the confusion, Eponine’s hand slipped from yours.
It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again
You and Les Amis crowded the hearse, climbing up onto its sides as it continued down the street.
When the beating of your heart echoes the beating of the drum
There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes
Enjolras joined Marius, standing on the top of the hearse. His voice rang out over the crowd.
Will you give all you can give so that our banner may advance?
He leaned over the side, offering a hand to you.
Some will fall and some will live
You took it, and he hoisted you up next to him.
Will you stand up and take your chance?
One arm was around your waist, steadying you and the other was grabbing the hilt of his red flag. You sang at the top of your lungs, and yet you could not hear your own voice over the crowd.
The blood of the martyrs will water the meadows of France!
Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the song of angry men
It is the music of a people who will not be slaves again
The crowd was following the procession now, the swell of people moving down the streets of Paris.
When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drum
There is a life about to start
When tomorrow comes
The procession came to a halt. Standing before you was the National Guard.
They threatened you, but you didn't think they would do it, not really. Until the shot rang off, and almost as if it was in slow motion, a woman in the crowd fell to the ground. The echoes of the shot rang in your ears as you looked on, stunned.
You looked toward Enjolras, whose features were grim, but determined. “To the barricade!” he cried.
The revolutionaries ran, moving like their life depended on it, which it did. You came to the little square where the Café Musain was and called to the people in the buildings to throw down whatever they could, which they did immediately, all too willing to aid in the downfall of the monarchy. You ran into the Musain, grabbing what chairs and tables you could to toss out onto the street.
You made swift work of the project, and foundations of the barricade were built, blocking you from the National Guard waiting on the other side.
“I need a volunteer!” your husband cried through the frenzy. “Someone who can find out their plan and when they will attack.”
A man that you did not recognize approached. “I will go,” he declared. “I was once a part of the guard, and I know their ways well. I will find out the truth.”
Enjolras nodded. “Thank you for stepping up, citizen.”
In the blink of an eye, the man was gone.
Ejolras dashed to the top of the barricade and planted his red flag there, a symbol of the revolution.
Soon night fell, and the buzzing of the day’s adrenaline was still taking hold. Everyone rushed about doing whatever they could.
“He’s back!” a voice cried, drawing your attention to the barricade.
“Listen friends, I have the information you seek!” the strange man called from outside the barricade. “I have counted their men and overheard their plans. They are strong, and it will be a dangerous fight.”
Enjolras gestured for him to come around the barricade. “Have faith. If you know their plans, we will find a way to overpower him. There is great strength in the people here.”
“You are safe for tonight,” said the man. “They wish to starve you out and weaken your forces before they attack in the morning.”
“Liar!” echoed a young voice. “Good evening, dear Inspector Javert!” It was Gavroche. “This man is no ally, he’s the law!”
Courfeyrac and Grantaire quickly grabbed him. “Throw him in the tavern,” Enjolras directed coldly. “We will let the people decide his fate.”
Javert’s face twisted in anger and he spat at Enjolras’ feet. “Kill me if you wish. You schoolboys know nothing of the world and the laws that bind it. I renounce your people’s court.”
They tried to pull him into the tavern, but he flung the two men off of him.
Enjolras rushed forward as the men struggled to restrain him. Javert rushed to the corner grabbing something-
“Enjolras, watch out!” you cried, as Javert swung a metal bar straight at his head. It missed narrowly. Enjolras wrestled the bar away from him, and swung it down hard, knocking the Inspector out cold.
Suddenly, you noticed the hairs on the back of your neck rising. You weren’t the only one who noticed something off, as the rest of the people gathered began looking around. Realization dawned in Enjolras’ eyes, and the men rushed out of the tavern, grabbing guns as they did.
“They’re coming!” someone yelled
You were in charge of reloading Enjolras’ musket, so you settled in behind him, on the ground below the barricade, as he took aim.
“Who’s there?” shouted the leader of the National Guard.
You clenched your jaw. The time was here.
“French Revolution!” your husband cried.
“Fire!” was the only response he got, soon followed by a volley of gunfire.
Shouting. There was so much shouting. The shouts soon grew louder, and you looked on in horror as you realized why.
They were climbing over the barricade.
You saw Marius grab a barrel of gunpowder and a torch before scurrying up the barricade.
What was he planning?
He reached the top nearly nose to nose with enemy soldiers. One raised his musket.
Oh God, you thought, Oh God, he doesn’t see.
Before you could cry out, before you could move, Eponine lept, seemingly from nowhere, in front of the musket, right as the shot rang out. Her body seemed to fall in slow motion, and you stood paralyzed. You hardly processed Marius’ threats to blow the barricade and the retreat of the National Guard as you ran to Eponine’s side. You took her hand in yours.
“Eponine!” you cried. “Eponine, please be all right.”
“Y/N?” Her voice was shaky.
“Yes, Eponine. Hold on, all right? We’ll get you a doctor.”
“I love you Y/N. You were the best friend I could have asked for.”
“I love you too, Eponine, but don’t talk like that, okay? We’re going to get you fixed up, don’t worry.”
She shook her head, but then you saw her eyes brighten. You turned over her shoulder to see what she was looking at. Marius stood looming over you. You backed away, knowing that she would want him by her side in her final moments.
He knelt down and held her, whispering to her, as her light slowly dimmed. The hot tears in your eyes mixed with the cold rain as your vision blurred.
You saw Gavroche, standing alone, the rain pouring down not masking the silent tears streaming from his eyes as he watched his sister bleed out. You approached him, and gently took his hand into yours. He squeezed so hard that it hurt, but you didn’t say a word.
Eponine went limp and her hand fell from Marius’ face. You stifled back a sob. As he passed you, Enjolras placed a hand on your shoulder, a silent reminder that he was there if you needed him. He and a few of the others gently lifted her body to take it out of the rain.
A while later, you were sitting quietly with Gavroche when Marius approached you. You tried to push down the swell of anger that came when you laid eyes on him. He, who had only noticed Eponine when she killed herself for him,
“Gavroche, can you do something for me?” he asked.
“Anything. Without you, I would have bitten the dust,” the young boy replied.
Marius handed Gavroche a letter and a few francs. “Deliver this for me, would you?”
No sooner had he spoken than Gavroche was off, leaving only you and Marius.
“Was that to Cosette?” Your voice was cold.
He nodded sheepishly, and your face twisted in anger.
“Eponine sacrificed herself for you! Took her own life so that you can live, and all you can think of is your wretched girlfriend? And now you have the gall to ask her brother to deliver your love letter? You didn’t even acknowledge her until she was dying in your arms!”
Enjolras dashed over, alerted by the yelling. “What’s the matter?”
“He doesn’t care,” you sobbed as he pulled you into his arms. “He doesn’t care that Eponine is dead. My best friend is dead.”
“I care,” Marius said quietly, the look on his face grave. “That I can promise you.”
He turned and left, leaving you and Enjolras alone.
You sank to your knees, no longer having the motivation to keep yourself upright, as the sobs racked out of you.
“She didn’t deserve this,” you muttered into his chest as he rubbed small circles on your back. “She didn’t deserve this.”
“No one does,” he said. “That’s why we fight. Why we must keep going, so that Eponine’s death is not in vain.”
You nodded, still sniffling slightly. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize,” he said, smoothing your hair. “Her death has shaken us all. Why don’t you go try and get some sleep? I’ll join you shortly, for a little while, but I have things that need to be taken care of.”
“I think I’d like to be alone, just for a bit,” you told him, “but I’ll sleep when you sleep.”
He kissed your brow. “That’s fair. Now go, and I’ll be there soon.”
—--
You had done as Enjolras had said, and you were sitting in your room, staring at your candle as it slowly burnt down. The tears had long since dried, and you were sure you must look a mess.
Bang!
Bang!Bang!
You jumped to your feet, startled as a series of gunshots went off. You raced downstairs, grabbed a musket, and prayed to God it was loaded. When you stormed into the square, armed and at the ready, the gunfire had died, and Enjolras was closing the tavern doors.
“Enjolras!” you cried, running to his side. “What happened?”
“Enemy marksmen from the roofs,” he said. “We took care of them. And there is another volunteer from the National Guard, but Gavroche has claimed he is trustworthy. He’s taking care of Javert as we speak.” As if to punctuate his sentence, a loud gunshot rang from behind the tavern. And thus ended Javert.
The men were relaxing, leaning against the barricade after a long and difficult day. Enjolras turned to address them. “Courfeyrac, you take the watch. The enemy may attack before light. Keep the faith, all. The people will rise, we are not alone.”
He took your hand, leading you along with him. He approached Marius, who was lost within his work, reinforcing the barricade. “Maruis,” he said, “rest.” Marius’ jaw tightened when he saw you, but he nodded curtly at Enjolras’ command.
Enjolras led you to an outcropping in front of one of the surrounding buildings, and leaned against the wall. The fatigue was evident on his face, but he drew you in and held you close as Grantaire began to sing an old drinking song.
Drink with me to days gone by
To the life that used to be
At the shrine of friendship, never say die
Let the wine of friendship never run dry
Here’s to you
And here’s to me
You could feel the soft rumble of Enjolras’ voice as he joined in. His soft voice was comforting, and you couldn't help but chuckle when he kissed your head as the rest of the men sang
Here’s to pretty girls who went to our heads
And to witty girls who went to our beds
You stayed like that for a while after the song was through, listening to his heartbeat. Despite his relaxed appearance, you could tell how stressed he truly was. He was scared.
“Go on up to bed now,” he told you. “You need to get some rest.”
“That’s the second time you’ve told me to do that,” you said. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”
“Never,” he said. “I just worry about you. And I have far too much to take care of to rest.”
You nearly laughed at that. If anyone should be worried it should be you. He was working himself to the bone, and at this rate, he wouldn’t even survive until the next attack.
“You need to sleep as much as I do,” you told him. “Come to my room with me, just for a few hours, and then we’ll take care of your stuff together, okay?”
He sighed. “You've swayed me, chérie Let’s go get some rest.”
—--
You woke a few hours later to an empty bed. You sighed loudly, but you shouldn’t have been surprised. At the foot of your bed layed Enjolras’ red coat and a note.
I’ve gone to see how the other barricades are faring. I know you would have wanted to come with me, but I promise I will be back soon. Keep my coat safe, chérie. I love you.
You scoffed, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to be upset at him. He wanted to keep you safe. You just wished he realized that you wanted to keep him safe as well.
You put on his coat, and were pleased to realize that it smelled like him. You met up with the rest of the men outside.
“Looking sharp,” Grantaire said with a wink, earning a gentle playful slap on the arm.
“How are things looking?” you asked Combeferre.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “The rain has damaged our supply. We’re working to see what we still have, but it’s not looking good.”
A sudden whistle from the top of the barricade drew your attention, and your heart soared as you saw your husband climb over.
Before he could even crest the barricade, Marius ran over to him, “Enjolras, the rain damaged the gunpowder. We’re low on ammunition.”
“We’re the only barricade left,” Enjolras replied, but his eyes were trained on you as he spoke.
“What?”
“We’re the only ones left.” In a perfect demonstration of his inner character, Enjolras spoke to the crowd as he approached you, wrapping one arm around your waist in a silent greeting. France came first, but he would not forget you because of that. The look he gave you was a silent apology for leaving you alone.
“The people have not stirred,” he announced. “Those who still live in fear have abandoned us, so I will say this. All who wish to leave must do so now.”
The air was thick. Would they stay and risk losing their lives, or leave and risk losing their values?
The silence was broken by one little boy, singing a familiar tune.
Do you hear the people sing?
Singing the song of angry men?
The people around you joined Gavroche, with hushed tones at first, but then soon at full volume.
It is the music of the people who will not be slaves again
When the beating of your heart
Echoes the beating of the drums
There is a life about to start when tomorrow comes
Soon the troops were gathered again, their spirits reinvigorated, but the concern of ammunition was a big one. No one was sure how you were going to keep going on.
“Gavroche!” you heard someone whisper urgently, and looked up to see a few of Les Amis, leaning over the top of the barricade. Your stomach dropped and you climbed over the edge and looked over the side to find Gavroche, holding sacs of gunpowder and taunting enemy forces. A gunshot rang out, narrowly missing the boy.
“Gavroche!” you hissed. “Get back here!”
Your words fell on deaf ears as Gavroche looked up, grinned, and continued onward.
Courfeyrac yelled for him, trying to jump over the barricade, but he was held back. All you could do was watch in horror as one, two, gunshots struck Gavroche down. His lifeless body stared at the sky, his blank eyes devoid of all their usual mischief and playfulness.
Courfeyrac ran out to grab the body, bringing him back and laying him at the base of the barricades. His sobs hit you like a knife. How many more must die?
“Bring him to lay next to Eponine,” you said quietly, and someone, you didn’t see who, obliged.
“You at the barricades!” the leader of the National Guard shouted. “The people of Paris sleep in their beds. No one will come to help in your fight. You are on your own with no chance at all! Why throw your lives away?”
Enjolras took on a new air, ever the leader. “Damn their warnings!” he cried, “And damn their lies. Let us die facing our foes. We can still make them bleed.”
“They will pay for every man!” yelled Courfeyrac, still teary.
“Others will rise when we fall!” your husband shouted, his voice thick with passion. “One day the Earth will be free!”
He grabbed your hand as the men ran to arms, speaking now in a low voice. “You told me not to ask you this, but I must. Please go. This ends in prison or death for all of us if we stay.”
“I’m not leaving you, Enjolras,” you whispered.
He nodded and raised his gun. “To arms, then.”
“Cannons!” came the shout from the other side of the barricade. Your blood curdled, but you held fast. This was judgement day.
“Fire!” cried Enjolras, and a volley of gunshots rained on the National Guard. He tossed his musket down to you and you handed him the new one you were holding, prepped and ready, and began to make quick work of the old one.
Through the screams, the bloodshed, the falling bodies, you did what you were supposed to do. You tuned it out and changed the weaponry. But soon the guard advanced. The bodies were dropping from bayonets instead of muskets, and you were forced to retreat. Those who had previously been sympathetic closed their doors, shutting out the dying students in the streets.
“To the Musain!” you cried, and the straggling survivors followed. There were shouts to barricade the door, but it wouldn’t hold for long. Your group ran to the second floor
Enjolras grabbed your hand. “I know you don’t want this,” he said, speaking hurriedly, “But I don’t care. Go to the storage room on the kitchen and don’t come out, no matter what you hear. I love you.”
“Enjolras, I won’t-”
“Go! I love you!” He was moving away from you, towards the stairs, forcing himself to leave because he knew you wouldn’t leave him.
“I love you too!” you yelled after him, and ignoring the sinking pit in your stomach, did as he asked.
—--
You shut yourself in the tiny room and curled into a ball on the floor. You were surrounded by bottles of your father’s finest liquor and extra cleaning supplies.
You broke the skin on your hand when you bit it to keep from crying at the gunshots outside.
The footsteps and shouts of the National Guard retreated, and there was silence in the Café Musain once more.
You were alone once more.
Your eyes scanned the small room around you, an idea forming. An idea that you knew Enjolras would hate just as much as it would make him proud.
It’s either die here or rot in jail, you thought. There’s no getting out of here without the guards seeing me. May as well make all this effort worth my while.
You grabbed what you needed and threw the supplies in a small satchel. Placing a hand on the doorknob, you steeled yourself, and then stepped outside.
There was a thin haze in the air, most likely smoke from the barricade and musket fire. You slowly crept your way up to the second floor of the building, and stifled a gasp when you saw the bodies of your friends littered on the floor. Grantaire was slumped next to the window, and next to him-
You knew it was true, but you didn’t want to believe it. You slowly leaned over the edge of the windowsill, and felt a pang of horror as you saw Enjolras’ body hanging from it, waving his red banner proudly, even in death. You had no time to process it, before you heard a guardsman cry. “Up there! Someone’s still in the building!”
You sprinted away from the ceiling and up to the top floor. You pulled the trapdoor down and hoisted yourself onto the roof, then quickly scampered down the side of the building, two bottles of brandy clinking in your bag.
You rounded a corner, crouching at the edge of the barricade. You were hidden for now, but you knew that wouldn’t last long. Opening the bottles of alcohol, you stuffed a rag down the neck of each. You kissed the neck of one bottle. “For you, Les Amis de l’ABC.” You kissed the other. “For you, Eponine.” Bringing your hand to your lips, you kissed the band around your finger. “For you, Enjolras.”
With that, you lit each rag with a flint and steel, and raced to the top of the barricade.
“Vive la France!” you cried, so loud that it hurt your throat, and you hurled the two makeshift bombs towards the enemy’s cannons, right into the highest concentration of gunpowder.
If the explosion wasn’t enough to knock you off your feet, the responding volley of gunfire was, and you fell to the ground as the bullets tore through your body.
“Vive la France,” you whispered once more as the darkness enveloped you.
—--
You woke to sharp pain from your core and the sounds of a woman sobbing. You realized suddenly that you were being carried, and as you slowly opened your eyes, you recognized who it was.
“Marie,” you whispered, barely able to get the sound out. Your sister screamed and nearly dropped you.
“Y/N, you were dead!”
“Not yet Marie, but I’m dying. Where did they put Enjolras’ body?”
“You know, then,” she said grimly. “He is in the tavern. I’ll take you.”
“What you did was amazing,” she said as she walked. “Everyone’s talking about it. They’re calling you the Belle of the Barricade.”
You crinkled your nose. “I was never one for semantics.”
Marie laughed, but there was little joy in the sound. “You were very brave, Y/N. Your bravery won’t be forgotten. Why, I’ll tell every patron we have about my daring older sister who took on the National Guard single handedly in a final attack.” She was smiling, but tears were streaming down her face.
She laid you down on the floor next to your husband’s lifeless body. “Marie?” you said softly.
“Yes, Y/N?”
“We were married. The night before the funeral procession, we were married right in the Musain. I want you to know. And Papa.”
She nodded tearfully. “I’ll tell him.”
You raised one hand to Enjolras’ face, so rigid and smooth in death. “I told you, my love,” you whispered to him, “I wouldn’t dream of leaving.”
And with that, the strength ebbed from your body, and all went black a final time.
—--
Light, warm and pure surrounded you. Your eyes opened, and as your vision cleared, a face came into focus.
Enjolras, his face far more peaceful than you had ever seen it. The lines of his face had softened, and he looked for once like a school boy, not a hardened general.
“Enjolras?” you asked. Your brow furrowed. “Where are we?”
“Beyond the barricade,” he replied, offering you his hand.
You took it, and he pulled you towards him. The two of you went forward into the light, into the world you longed to see.
-----
Thanks for reading! I hope you liked it, because it was really fun to write.
Also sorry for the fade to black scene, I'm just not a fan of writing smut.
But I appreciate anyone who took the time to read this, and I hope I was able to do Enjolras justice.
417 notes
·
View notes
Note
I’m in desperate need of some matty comfort please T_T I have been so exhausted and overwhelmed lately and I just spilled my dog’s food which was of course the proverbial straw that has led to a 15 minute long sobbing session. Can I please PLEASE request some very fluffy matty fluff (birthday party verse is my favourite)
Thank you, you are an absolute angel regardless of weather you choose to do this. I love everything you write 💖
oh babe :(( i know the feeling! thank you for your support, here is mine to you mwah
i've been thinking a lot lately about how you and matty would fall into the rhythms and routines of being a couple after being friends for so long - you've been in the same circles since you both moved to london in 2015, i reckon. and because you know each other so well, it's easy from the literal get-go, the morning after you first sleep with matty and confess your love for each other and stay over cuddled in his arms that night. you wake up first, and spend a few minutes just staring at his pretty sleeping face, before nature calls (lol) and you have to wriggle out of his arms and out of bed. because of that time your best friend spilt her glass of wine onto you at a party at matty's a couple of years ago, you know which drawer he keeps his t-shirts in (because he dragged you upstairs immediately and let you pick one to wear while he washed your jumper for you) - you pull out the same one you wore that night, a soft white jeff buckley tee, and pull it on over your underwear. matty's still asleep when you return from the bathroom, but you don't wake him; the band have just finished a lengthy tour (the opening performance of which you saw months ago in america, where you were finishing your own tour with your latest book), so you know he needs his rest. instead, you go through to the living room to find mayhem, who's so fucking excited to see you (this is reciprocated), and let him outside before calling him into the kitchen with you. it takes you a minute to find the dog food, but you set out his breakfast for him before making yourself coffee and taking it into the living room with you, grabbing your handbag from the hallway as you go. mayhem follows you happily, and jumps onto the couch beside you so you can pet him - you're like "ok i can't remember if you're allowed up here or not, but if we get a row i'll take the blame. but in return you have to listen to this new essay i'm working on, because i haven't read it out loud yet and idk if it works. deal?", and mayhem just licks your hand happily and lets you get on with it lol. and that's how matty finds you when he appears a few minutes later, curled up in his clothes on his sofa, reading softly to his dog; the sight is so sweet and domestic and just taken verbatim from his dreams that he actually tears up a little bit lol. but he recovers before he clears his throat and walks over to you, preening at the way your face lights up when you see him - you're like "hi, angel, i hope you don't mind that i didn't wake you up. and also that i stole your shirt and fed your dog and used your coffee machine. but i figured you needed the sleep". and matty kisses the top of your head and he's like "don't mind at all, darlin', i like seeing you make yourself at home here", and steals a drink of your coffee; you go all blushy before you're like "i'll make you your own coffee, you know" and matty's like "i should be saying that to you lol you're the guest", and you're like "yeah but i wanna spoil you". matty kisses you deeply like "mmm, you already did last night. dreamt about my head between your-" before you clap a hand over his mouth and go "not in front of mayhem he's a BABY" - matty lightly bites at your hand to get you to move it, which makes you both giggle, and then you leave mayhem to his own devices so you can go and make out in peace in the kitchen and make breakfast (again, you already know where everything is, having spent so much time in matty's kitchen over the years) lol.
and while you both write in different forms, you and matty have a shared understanding of weird processes and working hours and writing when the inspiration strikes - you don't get exasperated with each other for staying up too late or not being able to go out, as has happened for both of you in other relationships. instead, you provide support and cups of tea and proofreading/listening and synonyms and orgasms and whatever else the other needs (matty is SO GOOD at calming you down when you have a little freak-out about a deadline or your work not being good enough, which he thinks you're insane for thinking lol - he'll just hug you tight and whisper sweet things and praises into your ear until you're calm, and he'll look over your work to reassure you everything will be fine); you go out together when you can, but you're still spending time together while you're writing (and getting the most intimate glimpses into each other's psyches as you do, which is just incredible), so you're happy. the flexibility of your job, especially, means you're free to go with matty on most of his travels, but - if his more rigid schedule allows - he'll follow you anywhere and everywhere you go to research and write and promote your work too. basically, aside from one weird little hiccup a couple of weeks into your relationship (which i'm writing a fic about), the whole thing just develops so perfectly it's kind of insane, but neither of you are going to question it lol <3
47 notes
·
View notes
Note
Do yall still see spoiler jokes in the tags if the person tags it book spoilers?
that's a great question, and the answer is YES. disclaimer that i'm a tumblr elder who still uses the tumblr savior chrome extension rather than tumblr's built-in tag filtering system (i was so used to only having filtering options on desktop and not mobile for so many years that i've just trained myself to only ever browse on desktop and to use mobile solely for checking my notifications lmao), so i'm not 100% sure everything i'm about to say applies to the built-in system, but after reading through the info page on the built-in system i think it works in about the same way.
in total, there are 4 places where tags can be seen:
the original post on your dashboard/on OP's blog/in the relevant tags you're searching or browsing. OP's post tags are visible here.
a reblog of an original post on your dashboard/on the reblogger's blog. the specific reblogger's tags are visible here.
in the notes of your own or someone else's post, when you see a post and click to show all notes. all rebloggers' tags & comments are visible here (provided that you haven't blocked or been blocked by any of them)
in your notifications, when you get a notification that somebody reblogged your post and here are all the tags they put on it. all rebloggers' tags & comments are visible here.
of these 4 places, blacklisting a tag ONLY safeguards against the first two. if i have the book spoiler tag blacklisted, that will prevent me from seeing an original post or a reblogged post that contains that tag.
it WILL NOT prevent me from seeing a post that does not contain that tag, opening it up, and reading all the notes on the post. reblog tags that contain the blacklisted tag will still be visible to me if i'm accessing them via opening up the notes on a post. however, this would be something i'm doing deliberately and so it's only me who's accountable for any spoilers i might see, not the people putting spoilers in their reblog tags. (and as some of you can attest, 85% of the WOT spoilers i encountered were ones i deliberately sought out and then got mad about seeing djkfgj i only have myself to blame for those scenarios!)
so the key issue is category #4. if i make a post, i will get notifications for EVERY SINGLE REBLOG TAG, COMMENT, AND REPLY that is EVER made on that post. likewise, if i've reblogged a post that someone else made, both i and the OP will get notifications for every single reblog tag, comment, and reply that is made to my reblogged version of the post. nothing is filtered out. if i make a post saying "i'm a show-only and i don't know what's to come in the series" and you reblog it going "#oh they're gonna die when [massive spoiler] happens #wot book spoilers" i will see 100% of those words in my notifications, even though you've added the book spoiler tag and i have that blacklisted. tag blacklisting does not work for notifications.
this is why i always say, if you do not know for a fact that the OP of a wot-related post AND the person you're reblogging it from BOTH have full book spoiler knowledge, then do not put any book spoilers in your tags (even vague ones) when you're reblogging their post because they WILL see it, no matter how good a blacklisting system they have.
and it's especially egregious with gifsets! if somebody's made a text post then oftentimes it can be fairly clear from what they're saying if they're a show-only or a reader and so most rebloggers will consciously go "oh, seems like this person doesn't know X yet, i'll keep quiet". but for gifsets of the show, people will just reblog them putting full-on late series book spoilers in the tags with no thought for whether the gifmaker OP might be a show-only, because they're too excited thinking about how this scene in s2 will relate to something in book 12 to spare a thought for wondering if the real human person who created the gifset will be okay with seeing them discussing all those spoilers in the tags. i was spoiled that the man rand fought at the eye was not the dark one within 1 hour of watching 1x08 because everybody was reblogging my gifset and talking about ishamael & the forsaken in the tags lmao and there were definitely some other examples from my show-only-s1-giffing days too.
thus, When In Doubt, Be Silent! or make a separate post saying "guys i just saw this other post [link/screenshot making sure to include op's name for credit] and here are my book spoilery thoughts on it". but, of course, if you are confident in going "hey i recognize this blog and i know they've read the books" then no harm in letting spoilers fly in reblogging the original post!
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
Oh you MUST tell me about my favorite disaster mage of all time, please! Tell us all about Raistlin is Eru Theory (Tevildo’s ask)
Hi @tathrin!!!
So (Tevildo's ask) is in there because the only time I've fully typed it up in an ask someone else sent, so I'll give you the highlights here and link that ask!
So here's the link to the full thing! It's explained in a lot more detail, with the parallels and quotes and everything. (though this did get a bit longer than intended lol.)
So basically, the premise is just as the title says, Raistlin is Eru in the Silmarillion! Now I haven't finished the Legends trilogy yet, I've read the first two books of Legends and 3 of the Chronicles books. I primarily got into it through the Last Trial musical - a theater adaptation of the Legends trilogy. I am mostly working off how the musical ends, from what I understand the book ends differently.
I got the idea because I started seeing parallels between Eru's actions and possible motivations and Raistlin's actions and bits of songs from the musical. So of course I thought what if Eru is Raistlin?
And the dots started connecting, Eru's lack of interference can be seen as Raistlin not wanting to touch his world or hurt it unintentionally. His massive action against Numenor? Well he saw himself and his own desire for godhood, and subsequent destruction of the world, in them, and freaked out. He stopped them in the way he maybe wished he was stopped before destroying his world.
So how did it come to be? In the musical he achieves his goal, Crysania dies, he becomes a god and the world is destroyed because he failed the trial of compassion. In this fic, he spends countless years in the abyss, alone. Other universes exist in Dragonlance so I'm briefly dragging that in, the other gods in other worlds saw this destruction of that world, and how Raistlin was a god, alone there. Most saw it as a tragedy and moved on. But one would look in from time to time. And they saw something incredible, it was too late, but Raistlin was growing, learning. Compassion, empathy. One day when they look in, they realize he has wholly changed. But it's too late for Raistlins world. So, they quietly give him a spark.
Raistlin had never known anyone had looked in, when he found it he was shocked, thought it wasn't real, thought it was a trick, his imagination. But it was, and he came to realize it was a second chance. He was so, so afraid of messing it up again. That he didn't do anything, he just carefully nurtured it.
Until one day. Then first he made the ainur... he wouldn't make his new world alone. He was too flawed, too lonely. So he made others, gave them life, made them real. Then things progress as they did in the Silmarillion. And perhaps he didn't stop Melkor, because of the balance between darkness and light from his old world, that balance... or something lol the thought's on that aren't fully formed yet 😂
Thanks for the ask I love rambling about this one, there's a lot of meta!
#ask#asks#wip ask#wip asks#about my writing#raistlin is eru#raistlin majere#raistlin#eru#eru iluvatar#silmarillion#silm fic#my writing#writing#fanfic#fic#fanfiction
7 notes
·
View notes
Text
2024 Goals Monthly Check-In
I actually didn't do this last month because I was ill all of February and didn't make much/any progress with anything so I felt it was kinda pointless 😅 Let's see where I'm at now!
Japanese
1) Reach ~N3 level - I've not really been focusing on this so much. I've started using HelloTalk again and occasionally trying to learn a little new N3 grammar/kanji/vocab, but I should probably study in a more focused way.
2) Learn 10 songs by heart to a level where I could sing them at karaoke - Oh yeah I haven't worked on this at all, I kinda forgot it was a thing lmao
3) Finish reading another book of short stories - No progress made whoops. I try to read articles on Todai/NHK Easy a bit more but I've not touched my short story book.
4) Finish both Minna No Nihongo books - I'm about halfway through unit 11, so I'm a little behind but not too much. Hoping to finish unit 11 tonight and unit 12 at some point this week, but we'll see what happens!
Norwegian
1) Read at least 2 books in Norwegian - Not started yet
2) Maintain an overall B2/C1 level - I think I'm maintaining, but I need to immerse more for sure
3) Finish Enjoy Norwegian textbook - I've completed unit 2 so I'm a little behind where I wanted to be, but I should be able to catch up relatively easily.
Life in Japan Goals
As with last time, I'm just gonna focus on the goals where I've made progress rather than listing all 11. So:
1) Get my hair cut - Did it! And it wasn't as scary as I thought it would be :D
4) Have a 10-minute conversation with a native speaker in Japanese that’s not an italki lesson - I managed to chat with the hairdresser, so I can definitely say I did this!
6) Go to the dentist - I've booked an appointment and I'll be going next Monday. Absolutely terrified :D
7) Go to a prefecture I haven’t been to before - I went to Tochigi last weekend!
11) Be able to point to every prefecture on a map and name their capital cities - I can still more or less do this, but I sometimes mix up some prefectures or can't quite remember a capital
Non-language
1) Read 36 books - I've read 11/36 books, which means I'm 3 books ahead of schedule.
2) Complete a first draft of a novel manuscript - no progress made lol
3) Comfortable two-block oversplit with back bend - my oversplits are there but they feel very tight and not comfortable, so I need to work more on them.
4) Consistently hold a handstand for 5 seconds - I can barely balance on my hands at all atm lmao but I'll keep trying
5) Noticeably improve my demi pointe - I'm using the strength in my feet a lot more than I used to but I'm not getting much higher. I'll keep at it!
Health/diet goals under the cut:
Diet & health goals
1) Tackle my diet soda and sugar addictions - I've come a long way with the binge eating! I bought a multipack of chocolate marshmallow biscuits and managed to just take one with me to work every day instead of sitting and binging the whole lot. And right now I have a family-sized bag of mini eggs in my cupboard and I'm managing to eat a controlled set portion each day. I still mess up my diet sometimes, but I'm very happy with how I'm doing!
Diet soda is still a huge problem though lol
2) Slim down enough that none of my clothes are tight anymore - I look and feel SO much better about myself! For ages I've not wanted to dress up nicely because I felt like I looked frumpy or chubby or shapeless in my nice outfits. But when I was packing for Utsunomiya, I tried on all my cute outfits and I thought they looked good! I still want to lose a bit more so that I can see my abs, but I'm really happy with my progress here.
#2024 goals#nutcracker norsk#nutcracker nihongo#jackdaw in japan#a rook reading books#flight of fitness#chough chatterings
8 notes
·
View notes
Note
I jumped out of my bed when I saw you updated!! 🥹💕💖
The Geoffrey fic was amazing…! You’ve been well? Life is going oki?
I was kinda laughing the other day as I talked with a friend of new things we’ve been reading; and told her about u and was like “man, I miss them”. And whenever I got excited talking about books and then remembered some that disappointed me or were just plain I would said that again out of reflex; “man I miss them sm”
That’s my new “I should call them”. 🩵✨ You never disappoint, I’m so glad you’re alive and active!
I wasn’t into Geoffrey and after reading this I’m like that Kombucha girl video like “mmm nah, BUT lemme check twice just to be sure” 😭
Could I request something Jonathan xFem reader that begins with someone being super affected by voice/sounds/talking; taking things to something physical/NSFW? I’m super into Jonathan’s voice and accent; in gral all the VA’s did an amazing job!!
I’m super close to finishing the game now and DAMN they’re all (characters) so well made 🥹
Or just whatever you’d enjoy writing or been wanting to write for a while! I trust your amazing taste.
Take care of yourself and I hope you’re well and happy! Lots of hugs 💕🩷💕🩷✨!!!
There's Something In The Way You Speak
Here you go! I hope you love it! Jonathan's voice could definitely make us all go feral!! And Geoffrey is my best boy 🤣 I will make you love him!!
I haven't proof read this yet so I'm sorry for any mistakes! <3
Jonathan knew how easy it was to rile you up now, a small perk he was more than happy to take advantage of especially on a night like this. He'd hated social obligations before being changed into an Ekon, he still hated them. He couldn't even eat or drink to distract himself from the dull conversations he was pulled into.
Damn Edgar for forcing him to come to this thing. He knew it was all about keeping up appearances. The hospital requires funding Jonathan, these men fund us. So make them happy and feel like they are needed, because they bloody well are. The only perk to tonight? Having you by his side, dressed so finely. The curve of your neckline was bordering scandalous for this day and age, more than one set of eyes had landed on you tonight, much to Jonathan's annoyance.
But, as Jonathan had recently been made aware of, he had a little weapon to use against you. The memory made him smirk, your cheeks had grown so red after your all but blurted out the effects his voice had on you. I don't know, something about the tone and just the way you say things....just forget I said it alright?
He definitely would not be forgetting you said it, how could he just stand by and let quite possibly his best advantage over you go to waste. Before it was always Jonathan falling head over heels whenever you beckoned, how easily you made him want you, how simple it always was to make him lust after you. Oh how the tables have turned.
Jonathan moved closer to you, your body leaning delicately against one of the pillars adorning the room. It took a slight amount of bending to bring his lips right beside your ear before he whispered, nice a deep. "You know, I've been thinking about all of the doors in this hall. Where they lead to, which of them will be the one I'll pull you through, the one where I'll ravish you across whatever surface we find"
Your head turned towards him, eyebrows lifted and eyes wide in surprise. "Behave Dr.Reid" you whispered back.
"I don't want to behave, I want to fuck you" Jonathan felt your body tense beside him but this time he wasn't told off, you simply stared straight ahead, eyes flicking over the couples dancing or socialising. "Don't you want to?" His lips were all but pressing against your ears now, the soft tickle of his breath had you shivering.
"What I want is for you to behave" You quipped back, but Jonathan saw the redness growing on your cheeks, he was fairly curtained he'd never used that sort of language around you before....why wasn't it working? Jonathan straightened up, the glass of whiskey - still as full as when Edgar handed it to him- was the only thing he could use to occupy his hands as he tried to think of what else he could say to you.
Two - or was it three?- tedious conversations with men you had no desire to listen to, had come and gone since Jonathan's attempt to scandalise your thoughts. You wouldn't let him know it but your entire body had flashed hot and cold at his words. The idea of him whisking you away to have his way with you hadn't left your mind since he'd put the thoughts there.
Jonathan all but pouted his way through the conversations, waiting impatiently for them to end so he could try his luck again. He didn't have any ideas as far as what to exactly say to you, filthy talk wasn't exactly in his list of strengths, but the thrill of trying to rile you up was enough to keep him excited to try.
You had somehow managed to slip away from the small group that had Jonathan cornered, his eyes searched for you across the room, as the men in front of him continued their dull conversation. There you are. You had clearly just come from the bar, a tall glass in hand as you let your eyes wander over the room, stopping on the paintings along the walls. Truth be told Jonathan would feel happy enough to simply watch you from a distance, your beauty was always something that had him catching his breath each time he looked at you.
You felt Jonathan behind you before you heard him speak. "You abandoned me" He spoke low again, his lips not as close as before but close enough to have the hairs on the back of your neck prick up.
"You seemed to be doing alright"
"I don't appreciating you playing so hard to get...especially given how much effort I'm putting in to trying not to get hard while looking at you" Lord above this man would be the death of you, you turned your head towards him, catching him playing innocent as he met your. gaze.
"Have you gone mad?" Of all the time for Jonathan to be trying his new found technique to get you in the mood, now was certainly not the time! But the boyish smirk that pulled at his lips made you think that no matter where you happened to be at this moment, nothing was going to stop him.
"I think that one" Jonathan nodded his head towards a door positioned near the back of the room, out of the many doors that lined the walls between painting in the room, this one was likely the easiest to take and not be seen. "Given that it isn't locked of course, but I have a good feeling"
"You can't just wander around!" You whispered back to him. "One, people will notice you've gone-"
"After a while"
"And two, we can't just walk into whatever room we please, certainly not to do what you have in mind! What if someone catches us?"
"What if the sky falls on our heads? What if Priwen storms in and burns me at the stake? What if's are too boring for tonight my dear, and I have had the last three hours of nothing but boring so... shall we?"
Before you could even argue Jonathan had gripped your wrist and walked towards the door with much more confidence than you could muster. The creeping paranoia that someone would see you both sneaking away was almost enough to have you fighting against his pull. But before you knew it Jonathan had turned the knob on the door and pushed you both through it.
The hallways was dark, lit only by the moon light that came in through the windows on one side of the space, more doors lined the walls on the other side. "See? if it was in use tonight they would have lit it up" Jonathan walked forward leaving you by the doors you'd just come through. The first door he tried was locked, with a purse of his lips he moved onto the next one. "Hmm, a linen closet?" Again he moved onto the next, seemingly unhappy with this one also.
"Jonathan..."
"Perfect!" He motioned you over with a flick of his hand, only allowing you to get so close before pulling you once more through a door and into what looked like a small - very small - laundry room. Shelves covered one side of the room, an assortment of sheets and towels were folded neatly in stacks.
"Perfect? Oh lord if this is what you're calling perfect right now then you must have slipped a few marbles out, are you sure you're feeling alright?" Jonathan pulled the door closed quietly before reaching for a wooden chair sat off to the right of the room (presumably used when the servants were polishing or sewing) and fitting it under the handle, effectively locking you both in, and more importantly locking people out.
"There!" Jonathan turned to you, the boyish grin back. He gripped you by the hips moving you slowly backwards until you bumped into the counter top lining the other half of the room. You felt weightless for a moment as Jonathan lifted you onto the counter, his hands quickly pushing up your dress enough for his to stand between your thighs. "This is much better" His voice depended as he leaned forward, pressing his lips for your neck and trailing kisses up towards your jaw. "Do you know how difficult it has been for me tonight to see you dressed this way?"
Not that you imagined he wanted answer, but you wouldn't have been able to speak even if he had. Your mind was entirely too focused on the way Jonathan's hands travelled up your thighs, pushing under the bunched up fabric of your dress. "So many men were looking at you... I had a mind to let the beast take over....the walls would have looked better red"
You let yourself shiver fully, the idea of Jonathan being enraged at other men looking at you had you reaching out behind you, looking for support to keep you upright as he continued to lean over you. You felt the most subtle scrap of his fangs against your neck before he spoke again. "Will you let me have you? God I want you"
His voice grew deeper as lust quickly consumed him, his grip tightening on you as he lifted you again, just high enough to quickly slip your underwear down your legs. You couldn't even help yourself now as your hands slipped around the back of Jonathan's neck, pulling him in for a kiss that was entirely too needy and downright messy as you both started grabbing at each other. Your hands clashed with Jonathans as you both reached for his belt, but with a chuckle you both managed to free him, already so firm and ready.
Jonathan pulled you closer to the edge of the counter and by doing so, closer to him. "If we get caught-"
"Shh we won't" Jonathan nipped playfully at your bottom lip before lining himself up and pushing into slowly, his eyes closing as you enveloped him. "Christ you feel good" Hearing Jonathan's words of praise in this setting was new to you, he was far too much of a gentleman to whisper filth into your ear. But apparently those days were over.
Your gentle moans filled the small space as Jonathan moved against you, whispering and groaning against your neck, letting his fangs nip you in-between words. God knows if you weren't at a party you would tell him to bite down, to drink as he took you. It was almost as if Jonathan had the same thought as a broken whine tore out of him and his hips began moving faster.
You kept one arm behind you, using both the wall and counter top for support while the other pulled Jonathan closer to you, your lips finding his for another messy kiss. You knew it couldn't last forever but you desperately wanted it to, especially when Jonathan was being as vocal as he was.
He wasn't even sure what he was saying now, he'd lost the sense to form full sentences when you started rocking back against him, meeting his thrusts, your hand in his hair gripping and pulling him closer to deepen your already wild kiss. But Jonathan did know you were both so close, he could feel how tight you'd become around him, your face moved to press against his shoulder as you tried to conceal the moans that were falling from your lips.
You came with a shuddering gasp, you grip on each other tightening as Jonathan followed. It was only a few moments of you both regaining your senses before you pulled apart. Your eyes looked over Jonathan and a small smirk pulled at your lips at the sight of him, his hair messed and falling out of place, his tie and shirt was pulled and wrinkled but his fangs were what had your eyes lingering, they were extended, just visible as he looked back at you.
"You look a sight" Jonathan chuckled before righting himself and his clothes as best as he could, pushing his hair back with his hand before reaching forward to help you down from the counter. You started straightening yourself up as Jonathan bent down to retrieve your underwear from the floor. You reached for them but he pulled them back out of reach. Jonathan watched as confusion washed over your face before quickly tugging the fabric into his pocket.
"You cannot be serious"
Jonathan simply shrugged. "You wouldn't need them for long anyway" You huffed a disbelieving laugh at the man before you as he stood smugly by the door about to remove the chair he'd used to lock the door.
"Jonathan?" You both froze. Edgar. He didn't shout but he definitely spoke loudly enough for you both to hear him and be sure of who it was. Your eyes snapped to Jonathan, a clear I told you so, written all over your face.
Jonathan couldn't help it, he started smiling, and then giggling, covering his mouth with his hand so that Edgar - who was walking closer and closer to the door that hid you - wouldn't hear. You couldn't believe this, you couldn't believe him.
It took a few moments and a brief amount of panic when Edgar tried to the barricaded door before his footsteps receded down the hall. and then another few moments before either of you felt safe enough to crack open the door to see if the coast was clear. "See? I told you we'd be fine"
"Jonathan he will know as soon as he takes a look at us what we've been doing!"
"So you're telling me we should sneak out of one of the windows and go home? Excellent idea" You shook your head but you couldn't help the smile that grew on your face as you watched Jonathan check every single window on the way back down the hall to the party, just in case you could plot another great escape.
#vampyr#vampyr game#dr jonathan reid#jonathan reid#jonathan vampyr#vampyr 2018#jonathan reid x reader
13 notes
·
View notes
Text
wip wednesday
Tagged by @glitchy-npc! Thanks for the tag :)
I'm gonna tag uuuh @thenightdayblogger @euelios @dogueteeth if any of y'all are up for it?
I've honestly been Kinda Slammed with like. life. this week. and last week. it's fine. But it also means I haven't done a ton of writing unfortunately.
Mostly, I've done some work on my Archival Thing - i'm into June of this year now! - and a tiiiny bit of writing, that I'll drop under the cut for being Retri Spoilers. Sidebar, having a general premise and at least two sentences is better than I'M doing on the exchange right now, so kudos for that! Its Fine we've got just under three whole months left.
More innocent ending musing, of the 'some people are working under the assumption that this is going to work out polyamory-wise but nobody's talked yet' variety, with a side of the Arsinoe Guilt Pressure Cooker.
But-- Daniel’s over anyway. Consistently. Sometimes with groceries or files for Ricardo to read so he doesn’t go nuts. The first couple times, you think he’s trying to figure out things to bring you to. What, cheer you up? Puzzle books and a neat pen and coffee that wasn’t made in Ortega’s kitchen. Carries you and your stupid casts from the bedroom to the couch to your wheelchair and back again, easy little smile and steady hands.
He won’t drop you. Stone-solid truth you can’t even touch.
So. Daniel’s over a lot. And Ricardo’s around a lot, and doesn’t seem. Put out? Worried? Annoyed? By Daniel being in his apartment basically all the time.
You think Daniel cried, after they got you safe and ensconced in Ricardo’s spare room. After Chen and Argent had left. He didn’t let you see, stepped outside to the balcony when Ricardo was getting you settled in the bedroom, but he’d been barely-contained-stress-worry, right up there with you. Get through the crisis. Fall apart afterwards.
You’re still getting through the crisis. Can’t afford to fall apart yet. Stumbling-- stumbling you can manage.
Neither of them is making it any easier. Or-- they’re making it easier, but in a way that makes it harder? You don’t fucking know. You don’t have any sort of plan for the situation you’ve gotten yourself into. Either part of it, really, the mundane-frivolous worry of two people who say they love you - the you they think they know - or the clawing scraping tangle of something sharper, something more urgent, in your throat.
17 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
marzipanladyart
Sanctuary for DILFs
varanasitelegram
varanasi_telegram
anisaftz
Calon Peternak Lele
birhevess
birhevess
the-equines-blog
The Equines