#bbc! enjolras imagine

[stardancerluv]

A Time to Love and to Fight

Part: Thirty One

Summary: The truth comes to life.

Notes/Warnings: Angst, flashbacks to the barricade, mortality questions. 🍋Lemonade🍋 came to London in the 1800’s they made it with Honey, before it became chic…men on ships used to drink it to prevent scurvy.

❤️s, feedback, reblogs and comments are appreciated.

He slipped free of his coat, untied and pulled his scarlet scarf from his throat. Laying them on his desk, he turned and kelt in front of his cupboard. When the door creaked open, he glanced around. He hated hiding this from you. It wasn’t in his nature.

Though he did not want to risk upsetting you or his unborn child. Uncovering, the sabers, he took the one had grown more comfortable toward. Inhaling, he began slicing through the room.

At first it was only his room that was a blur as he moved around. His heart began to beat harder, his breathing shallowed as his room began to fade it shifted in his mind to when he had first began to art of the sword. It had been at an early age when he learned on how easy it was for him move about. He was good at dodging and deflecting.

As a child, he never found it hard to find a place for his foot when climbing a tree or running across rocks that made it easier to cross a brook on his family’s estate. His heart lurched as his mind brought back the moments in the alley. The space easily had grown tight and the air had soured with plumes of smoke from the pistols and canons. The barricade fell broken in mere moments. A vision of his friend, Courfeyrac; he had long since laid rest his memory. He had been brave stood tall and made it possible for him and you run away from the soldiers that burst through the doors.

Stopping, lifting his arm clad in a start white sleeve he brushed aside the sweat that blossomed on his forehead. Thank you dear friend, he whispered in his mind.

“Mon amour.” There was a knock and creek of his door opening as your voice fluttered over to his ears.

Turned on his heal.

“There you are.” Your voice was so light, like the sunlight that shone into his room.

He coughed, holding the sword close to him. He glanced back at you over his shoulder. “Yes?”

He saw your brow furrow and your smile wavered but remained.

“A message came. I thought we’d read it together.”

“Ah, yes…yes. Bring it and yourself to the sitting room. I will shall join you shortly.”

“Oh, yes that shall be pleasant.” And his door snapped shut.

He relaxed, though annoyance prickled him. He hated that his words to you were as sharp as the sword in his hands. His heart rode his emotions, his actions. He crossed the short distance to his cupboard. He had to compose himself before joining you.

******

“My lady?” The soft voice of Beatrice broke the world of the book in your lap.

“Oh? Yes?” You were still getting addressed as such. Greta had always been respectful but lady, that was an entirely different class then you ever expected to be addressed in. And in these last couple of months. You realized not to argue with Beatrice over it. In the end, it only helped you and Enjolras in your new life.

“Sorry to disturb you but a message came for Sir Julien.”

You put the book down and with a quick breath, you stood and went over to her. “I would love to bring it to him.”

“I am sure, he will enjoy that all the more.”

Beatrice then handed it to you before turning and returning back to whatever task she busied herself with beforehand.

You can tell it had been replaced on the smooth and more elegant paper for the destination it was to reach. The paper felt very nice nice in your hands.

******

You were confused as to why he had not turned to even face you. His words, his tone were like an icy shadow compared to the days you had heard him speak warmly and passionately.

“Oh, yes that shall be pleasant.”

You felt a churning inside of you, not wanting anything further from this shadow of the man you loved, you closed the door at his last word.

******

On the small table besides the chaise, you tossed away the fine paper. The exchange between the two of you didn’t make you inclined to hold it any longer.

Eyeing the pitcher you wondered of its contents. You smiled seeing the sweet lemon and honey mixture. Beatrice, knowing you didn’t always want to ring by bell or other means would leave you pitchers ready for your thirst would fall over you. Though it was best kept inside because if you were to go to the garden, she would bring it out. Because if not it attracted more beings then the flowers did.

You poured yourself a glass, then holding your day dress just so you said down on the chaise. The cushions were very comforting and the dye chosen in it always pleased you. It reminded you on the sun shining down water by a forest or the ocean when it was not angry.

******

“There is my ange.” You noticed that his words had soften.

You barely glanced his way, and u took a sip from your cup.

He closed the door and soon his shadow fell over you, as he stopped on the other side of the table.

“Is this the message?”

You looked up, you immediately noticed the top buttons on his billowy shirt were undone and a flush dusted his cheeks. It made you pause. “Yes.”

You noticed that he also poured himself a cup. “I am glad you are fond of this.” He held up the cup and soon he snatched the envelope in his other hand and came and sat beside you. He took sip.

“It is very pleasant. It lays close to my heart like a deep rose tea.”

He smiled. “You do enjoy your tea.”

You nodded.

He put the cup down. He held up the envelope. “From home, I do wonder what they coiled possibly want.”

You put down your cup, reaching up you drew his hand down. “What is the matter?”

His brows knit together. “What are you questioning?“

You swallowed. “You.”

The flush returned to his cheeks.

“I see you infrequently unless it is time to slumber or eat.” You shrugged. “Yes, on the occasion I see you in the garden and we take in its beauty like we did in the park so long ago. But now, you act as if I have grown to be a nuisance or I am no longer bare any importance in your life.”

You finally spoke of all that had been lingering in your heart. A tear escaped and ran down your cheek.

He pressed his lips together, he placed the letter back on the table and finished what was in his cup. You didn’t dare move, you felt as if he was gonna spring off the chaise like a kitten would if it was hoping to catch a butterfly or a mouse. And right now you couldn’t bear the thought of him leaving your side.

Then he did the unexpected. He shifted and moved till he was sitting like he had under the willow in garden of your home. His back now more comfortably supported by the curve of the chaise.

The sight of him before you as such made your heart yearn.

“Do not break my heart.”

“Oh, my sweet amour.” Easily, having forgotten the strength he has you found yourself nestled close to him.

You laid like this. Silence had fallen over the two of you like a blanket would have. You felt the beat of his hear, the warmth of his breath and his arms draped loosely around you. That you knew was for fear of disturbing the baby that still grew with you.

“Oh my amour.” He spoke again lifting his chin from where it had nestled in the strands of your hair.

“Our life, our destiny more mine that yours may cause your heart to break, not I. In my wild, undignified ways I will always love you.”

His words, the feel of his heart beating harder, made you move so you could look at him.

“Not long after we arrived and wonderful news of the blessing of a child filled our new home. A storm, a shadow drifted and reached our shores from our past.”

You watched as he swallowed. Despite the warmth of him around you, coolness prickled you.

“A man, a solider is seeking revenge for my action. I struck down his son at the barricade. Now he is searching and wishes to do the same to me.”

“That was during a fight, skirmish I dare say. Deaths, men get slain.”

He nodded.

“Did I grow angry at the boat that went down or the ocean that swallowed my father? No. I was made that it was my father. Does be not see this?”

“No. He does not see that it was an act or war. There was no personal thoughts. It was a question of survival.”

You nestled close. “What are you to do?”

“I watch my shadow and I have been practicing with the sabers, my father sent me.”

“Enjolras, why…but why?” You were at a loss as why did not fair this horrific news with you.

One of his gently reached and held what he could of your growing stomach.

“What if he found you while you would be at the tavern? Were I then to find out when you would not return to us?”

He stilled under you. “To be honest, the thought had never came to me.”

******

You had not been able to sleep, reading by candlelight finally you felt as sleepiness clawed at you.

You felt the bed give after what felt like moments after you had pulled the blanket more tightly around you.

“Enjolras?” Your voice scratchy from sleep.

“Yes, mon amour.”

The bed gave only this time, only beside you. You blinked at the now glow of the candle on the table beside the bed.

Looking up you smiled seeing, Enjolras in and out of the shadows. It made him all the more handsome at that moment. You watched as could see etched on his face.

“Are you alright?”

“I just could have sworn I had just crawler back into bed when you awoke. I was worried I disturbed you.”

“I don’t think so. I had just used the water closet and seeing the dawn, I knew I had best travel to the harbor. The package mentioned in the letter should be arriving today.”

“Would you have awoken me?”

He smiled and ran his fingers through his curls. “Once the carriage was ready.”

“Let me come with you.”

You put your hand over his.

“I’m not sure if that’s a good idea.”

“I will stay in the carriage. I need to do something outside of our estate.”

He pressed his lips together. He knew there was no stopping you.

“You are my husband.” You admitted. You were not that rebellious.

He inhaled and absently rubbed his goatee. “Maybe we can eat at the tavern or perhaps even do a little shopping.”

“Really?”

“Yes, but make me a promise my amour.”

“Please, if I grow concerned you will listen to me. I don’t quite trust these English men.”

“I promise.”

*******

The carriage rolled and bumped through the countryside. The world world turned but a murky dark blue, to purple to violet and finally to a clear light blue.

You say absently, after stirring.

“Looks like it will be a good day.” You yawn softly, waling more from your unexpected nap.

With the shaking, the creaks and cracks of the carriage the two of you actually had drifted off for more that half of the portion of the trip to the city proper.

He gave you a side long glance. “You look like a proper English lady with the hat and the gloves.” He rolled his shoulders, before stretching out his legs with a sigh.

You squeezed his arm before glancing down at yourself. “You think so?”

“Only far lovelier.”

Your cheeks flushed. “Enjolras. How is it you still make me blush.”

“Because my words speak the truth.”

@henry-cavs-tudor @corrodedcoffn @dealswiththedevilsblog @randomstory56 @pl1nfa1 @phantomxoxo @ladybug0095 @the-iridescent-phoenix @maryan028 @kindablackenedsuperhero @amethyst-serenade @moondev1l @samunson83 @julieteagk @little-wormwood @wafflepixie @shadyhamiltonfanatic @gretavankleep37 @peacefroggg23 @capailluiscedove @poisonedeuphoria

[of-apollo]

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—> WHO I WRITE FOR:

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ASSORTED: Black Noir (The Boys), Miguel O’Hara (Spiderverse), Apollo (PJO)

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A bit about me: I’m Welsh, a history lover and musical theatre nerd. I also love Taylor Swift a whole lot. Talk to me about any of those things, you have my heart.

[a-la-sante-du-progres]

The thing with R's design is that he's very canonically ugly, but I can't see "ugly".¹ I just never feel repulsion when looking at human traits. It's not a political stance but an instinctual lack of reaction. Lacking a internal compass telling me who is ugly, I can just use conventional ugly traits but those imho are associated with poverty, illness, violation of gender roles, violation of North European traditional aesthetics, old age². So even if I give R random conventionally ugly traits, I still won't think of him as ugly but as something else. It's a fruitless effort. So I gave up on picturing him as ugly and physically repulsive to me.

So my R design is:

-something makes him repulsive, but it's nothing people can explain rationally. No ugly trait in particular. After all, he's described as "impossibly" ugly. What if it's impossibly ugly because people can't say why he's looks ugly to them? Because it's a sensation that defies logic? My realistic headcanon is that people can sense his all-encompassing dread and lack of any positive belief, and they fear it and from fear it comes the irrational repulsion, also I'm sure that his behaviour toward women has a big impact on his perceived ugliness. It would be right in Hugo's alley anyway, Hugo uses ugliness as a visual metaphor for psychological and social issues.

(In a fantasy!AU I like to headcanon his perceived impossible ugliness as people unconsciously feeling that he's not human. The same is valid for Enjolras, but with his angelic and statuesque beauty.)

-I adopted as headcanon what it can be deduced from the brick. He's 26-29 years old, so quite young, he's fit and strong because of the multiple sports he does, he's short because he's impressed at Enjolras's height, he must have good hair because he appears to be proud of his hair and glad of not going bald like Bossuet. He's supposed to be the apparent opposite of Enjolras, so my headcanons are dark hair, small forehead, bad teeth, strong manly features. His hair may have been ginger too because Hugo had a bit of anti ginger bigotry and he stupidly thought ginger hair were ugly so he may have thought of R as red haired when he wrote he was ugly. Ginger!R is a fascinating idea to me, 99% of the times I see him as black haired, but I think ginger hair is a likely feature for brick!R (and also hot NGL).

-Bladgen!R has imprinted on me, so I borrow some of his features, but he looks too delicate to be R, so I usually roughen up his face a bit when I think about him as Grantaire. He's also too beautiful (I can tell when someone is beautiful to me), but when I try to think of traits to assign to R to turn him ugly, my mind goes blank. Without the obligation to make him ugly, I manage to picture him with different features, but I can't give up on his curly hair in the 2012 movie. Grantaire with curly hair is fixed in my imagination as if it was canon. Bbc!R is sometimes R in my mind, but I don't think he's ugly either (on the contrary, I find him beautiful as well), he just gave a great R impression thanks to his interpretation. No musical actor left something into my headcanons, it's regrettable because I usually enjoy a lot musical!Grantaires.

-Canon R is white imho, he talk about other ethnicities as "other". I'm not sure because he may identify with the dominang group despite not being part of it, but it's a likely guess. He also said he would rather be born a Turk/Arab, he's was joking/trolling, but I take it as inspiration for modern and reincarnation AUs. Obviously, it's unrelated with his perceived ugliness, and to avoid involuntary correlation and involuntary endorsement to white supremacist propaganda, I would explore his ugliness and being Arabic in different fanworks.

-Green eyes just because he's associated with green by the musical.

-Damages from his addictions. So corrupted teeth from smoking and alcohol, flawed skin from smoking, sleepy/tired eyes. Those could work as conventionally ugly traits, but I still think of them as neutral, bad just because they're symptoms of bad habits, not necessarily bad to look at.

¹I'm not trying to be holier than thou, I acknowledge ugliness is real and can be defined by what triggers repulsion at the sight. I can feel this repulsion when I look at very ugly architecture, for example, but I simply don't feel it when I look at people. If I'm repulsed at someone, it's just because I already hate them because of their behaviour. I don't know if it's related, but I don't feel repulsion at anything from the human body either. I've spent some nights in the hospital with surgery patients, and nothing repulsed me, no fluid or matter I saw. It's not high morals, it's high scientific interest, and the human body is too interesting to me to feel other than utter fascination. Like there is one thing I find ugly, and there are bushy eyebrows. idk why, that's it. As I said, lacking an internal compass that tells me what's ugly to me, when I try to picture ugly, I resort to conventions. ²But "ugly" traits are always ugly for ulterior motives, they're ugly because they're associated or they have been associated in the past with the poors (es badly groomed hair, inelegance, bad teeth), they're associated with a lack of health and physical strength (fat bodies, very skinny bodies, asymmetry, paleness, eyebags etc), they defy gender roles (moustaches/beard/big bodies for women, small stature/small hands/small D for men), they're typical of old age or they're anything else than north-European (big noses, bushy eyebrows too probably). I don't blame who find those traits ugly, we can't choose what is repulsive to us, we can only treat everyone decently (unless they're being harmful). But while I recognise ugliness is legit, I see every ugly trait as being something else, the trait of a poor/sick/old/androgynous/poc person so I'm unable to think of someone who is just objectively ugly. Instead I can well see beauty, I'm charmed by people with some colour and proportions as if they were work of art, also I see beauty in all the people I care about because looking at them is pleasurable to me. The opposite of beautiful is just "normal" to me, when I don't feel anything when I look at someone, likely with random strangers.

[television-bodies]

dropping by to say that i loveeeeed revenir it made me sob like a BABY <333 i hope you're doing well! anyways for the fic writer asks: 3, 8, 29, anddd share a sentence that you're proud of! <3

thank you so much, i'm so glad you liked it!! <3 sorry for making you cry -- but only slightly. what you're telling me is sort of an artist's dream... hope it wasn't too devastating...

3. What’s your favorite fic that you’ve written?

ohohoho what a question. there are things that i like in every fic i've written mostly because i'm proud of myself for writing anything at all -- until the end of everything, for example, i had points with where i really doubted if it would get finished. i like suckerpunch for the things that other people tell me they appreciate in it -- and it may well be recency bias, but right now i think i do like revenir the best! it feels the most cohesive and consistent to me currently, and as a first attempt at canon era i don't think i did too bad of a job (?). this being said, i do like to imagine that my favourite fic of my own has not been written yet. something to spur me on

8. What project(s) are you currently working on?

i have a few different things that i'm dipping in and out of semi-regularly but strangely enough i have planned out almost an entire bahorel/feuilly fic this week, borne from a prompt from the trope generator. after looking at my most recently posted fics on ao3 i thought 'wow, i think i need to do something more light-hearted next' and so i am going to Trope Central, in which bahorel and feuilly fake date as a way to try and encourage some other members of their group to Get Their Shit Together, and end up in a private and pretty intense game of chicken... its fairly ridiculous but it will make sense. i promise (i hope)

29. Share a bit from a fic you’ll never post OR from a scene that was cut from an already posted fic. (If you don’t have either, just share a random fic idea you have that you don’t plan on getting to.)

i think i've spoken before about the bbc race across the world AU that i had for a while and have since scrapped because i couldn't bear to write the logistics of the show/race (sad) -- anyway this was from a section in which grantaire is trying to convince eponine to spend some of their team's limited funds on a small basement gig during one leg of the race, because he's overwhelmed and needs to be moshing for his mental health. (this is something that comes up in one of my current wips too. i love a moshpit and i love to use them symbolically. i'm also projecting)

“I’m fucking tired, R.” “And I fucking need this, Ep.” He’s almost pleading, searching her eyes because she knows him, she knows that he needs this sometimes, knows that there are times he goes out in search of a crowd to throw himself into even if she doesn’t entirely understand why. “Please. I’m asking you for this, as something I need. I feel like I could claw my fucking skin off. I need to just–“ he gestures at the building, at the poster. “I need it.”

share a sentence that you're proud of!

Grantaire is cynical, and it underpins everything else Enjolras knows about him: the way he structures his arguments, his stances on philosophy, the references to mythology he drops into conversation as casually as other people talk about the weather.

from suckerpunch :D

ask game

[decodedlvr]

leave it to me to not leave things how they seem butttt,

pov: he’s shakin that last bit of cum out

[keiko86chan]

Ok, so in the past weeks (I think since November, more or less) I'm watching/ re-watching some Les Miserables adaption, together with @clumsyhobbit.

For now we watched the 1995 concert, 2014 Broadway musical, 2019 concert, 1964 Italian serie, 1978 movie, and 4 episodes of 2018 BBC serie. We yet programmed to finish the BBC serie and then 2012 movie (which I saw on my own many times) and Shojo Cosette anime (where I saw only few episodes).

Soon or later we need to watch also the 2010 concert, the 1998 movie and 2000 mini serie.

But, for now, I think that I could show you my "Dream Cast", even if it maybe will be updated in the future.

BTW, here it is:

Jean Valjean

Richard Jordan 

(1978 movie)

I mean, look at him! He's too cute! And also, his look is so fluffy and on point!

Even if Colm Wilkinson and Hugh Jackman has both a special place in my heart!

Javert

Philip Quast

(1995 concert)

He IS Javert. Period.

But he’s immediately fololwed by Tino Carraro (1964 Italian serie) and Anthony Perkins (1978 movie) as they’re both perfect (Carraro is a very accurate Brick Javert, and Perkins is amazing too!!

(Even if my forbidden desire is to see, soon or later, a Romani Javert on screen... T^T)

Cosette

Ellie Bamber

(2018 BBC serie)

Baby Cosette

Mailow Defoy + Lia Giovanelli

(2018 BBC serie)

Finally we could see the FULL story of Cosette.

She has a personality!!

And they’re adorable.

But all these girls needed to have brown hair XP

Marius

Roberto Bisacco

(1964 Italian serie)

As he looks 100% the clumsy, awkward and naive boobie-boy he is in the book.

Fantine

Anne Hathaway

(2012 movie)

She is so good and her acting is heartbreaking, even if a lot of her story is brutally cut out (and she needs to be BLONDE!!)

Eponine

Samantha Barks

(2012 movie)

Alright, both Angela Cardile (1964 Italian serie) and  Erin Kellyman are much more similar to the clever and stalky girl that Eponine is in the book, in 1964 serie the’re is also the part where she lures Marius at the barricade just trying to die with him (IDK if there is also in the 2018 serie, I’ve not seen yet the last 2 episodes), but Samantha Barks is too intense to not be loved, even if the character in the musical is totally changed.

Azelma

Alex Jarrett

(2018 BBC serie)

Well, she’s basically only there and in the 1964 serie, but she didn’t do so much. And I prefer her 2018 appearance, so...

Gavroche

Adam Searles

(1995 concert)

IDK, I like so much also Reece Davies (2018 BBC serie) and Logan Clark (2019 concert) but when I imagine Gavroche, Crivello’s look is the first that I think. 

M.me Thenardier

Olivia Colman

(2018 BBC serie)

Because only there she’s really shown as the bastard bitch she is in the book.

In all the other adaptions she’s only or a comic relief or drunk (1964) or even cut out briefly (1978)

Thenardier

Antonio Battistella

(1964 Italian serie)

He’s perfect. The clever asshole he is in the book, and not (again) a comic relief or very cut out (1978, again, where all the Thenardier family is brutally cut out except in a short scene).

I like very much also Adeel Aktar (2018 BBC serie), as he’s too shown perfecty in character (basically both these Thenardiers act on point in the same way), but.... That vagina-like beard make me uncorfortable... Sorry! ^_^”

Enjolras

Aaron Tveit

(2012 movie)

His look is perfect, and he’s very good as the fiery and intrepid leader of the barricade.

But another perfect Enjolras is Claudio Sora (1964 Italian serie) as he is totally the idealistic, serious and ferocius revolutionary he is in the book. 

Honorable mention even to Bradley Jaden (from 2019 concert) as he’s too adorable and cute for this world!

Grantaire

IDK his name

(1964 Italian serie)

I love the 1964's Grantaire (I can’t find his name, sorry) as everytime is on screen he cracks me up, he’s perfect as acting as a drunk dude (even if he looks as a 45 years old man, definitely too much old for a student! XD).

His scenes with Javert are priceless!! XDD

But, on a side note, for Grantaire happens the same thing I said of Gavroche, that every time I imagine him, is George Blagden (2012 movie) that appears.

Fauchelevent

Cyril Cusack

(1978)

His mastermind dialogue with the Mother at the Petit-Picpus is too much funny!

Courfeyrac

Archie Madekwe

(2018 BBC serie)

He’s too cute! And I love how is shown his friendship with Marius!

Mon. Myriel

Colm Wilkinson

(2012 movie)

What can I say? He’s adorable, looking so peaceful and wise all the time!

Les Amis

(I’m sorry, but they’re shown all, (precising the names) only in the 1964 serie (in both the 2012 movie and 2018 BBC serie they’re there also, but honestly I can’t understand which is which), so I can’t make a good choice for them. :P

BONUS:

Rivette

Enzo Clienti

(2018 BBC serie)

Ok, he is an original character which appears only in the 2018 serie, but he’s too adorable to not mention him! <3)

@clumsyhobbit if you want, do a list of your favourite cast too!!

[cumbercookiebatchs]

1) when reading/writing fics, do you see yourself most in enjolras' perspective or grantaire's? idk if that makes sense

2) when did you first get into Les Mis?

3) at what point in your Les Mis journey did you realize you shipped enjoltaire?

(also, which version of them do you like the most/imagine them being? - 2012 film all the way for me!!)

DEAR ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

-It depends on what I'm writing, because I have different headcanons about them that are just projections of what I feel! For example- when I write about Enjolras being anxious or wanting to be held and Grantaire cuddling him, then I see myself more in Enjolras's perspective, and when i write about Grantaire's fears, or his need to do and be better, then I see myself more in his perspective! I've been writing more by Enjolras perspective lately though ❤️

- last year! A few weeks after new year's eve. I'm sure of it because on new year's eve there was the BBC miniseries of les mis running on TV, and I didn't pay mind to it because I was reading the witcher, but by February I had already started writing, so it has to be January 2020. I cried all my tears thanks to the 2012 movie

-while watching the movie the first time!!! That movie's been one hell of a ride I swear on everything I know I started crying at fantine's solo and DIDN'T STOP.

I started shipping through my tears at the bottle scene and by the window scene I WAS WHEEZING. And I almost closed everything at Javert coming back on the barricades and enjoLRAS WAS STILL HANGING THERE-

AND THEN GAVROCHE.

One hell of a ride, I repeat.

And I firstly imagined him like the 2012 movie too, but now I have my own version in my mind? Grantaire's pretty much like the (fantastico, incredibily beautiful) one @ weisbrot draws, and Enjolras's pretty much like the one drawn by @ dyinglikeicarus, but shorter, because I headcanon Grantaire as the taller one!

I didn't put the tags because I don't want to bother them, but if you don't know their art I higly recommend you go and see because it's a joy for the eyes ❤️ two of my favorite artists ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

Thank you su much dear ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️ hope you'll ave a great day!!!

[coolrobotsupremacist]

One of the few things I liked about BBC Les mis was Grantaire. I thought the actor pulled of the likable-if-a-bit-of-an-arsehole-ness of the character really well even if I thought the direction they took him with "Grantaire is afraid of the reality violence" was a bit simplistic.

So this Grantaire was good which shouldn't be a problem but it IS a problem because BBC Enjolras was the worst. Not the outright character assassination that Valjean got, but I still wanted to stab him every time he appeared on screen.

(No offence to the actor; I have a feeling this was more of a writing/directing problem)

I wish I could have a better way of putting this but BBC Enjolras was a whiny little bitch. He was an angry and resentful, bitter character( probably because in this adaption he only had three friends rip) and I couldn't imagine how anyone could look up to him the whole time I was just like why are you following this guy when Coufeyrac(bless him another character I enjoyed wholeheartedly) is right there.

Like I even trusted this Grantaire far more than I trusted this Enjolras which I think we can all acknowledged is a big problem.

Grantaires love and admiration of Enjolras is such a huge cornerstone of his character that it kind of ruins his character when Enjolras is not convincingly admirable.

[meta-squash]

Top 5 favorite individual Grantaires and Enjolrati that I’ve seen (not necessarily all from the same production.)

Grantaire:

1. Joseph Spieldenner (US Tour 2010). I’m gonna go with my bias because I’ve seen Joe as Grantaire about 5 times and I just think he’s lovely. His interpretation of R is more sad and yearning, but I just adore it so much. Even when he’s goofing there’s an air of loneliness in it, just kind of being loud to have someone give him attention. But his decision to have that scream as a reaction to Gavroche’s death gives him a really interesting depth which, obviously, is more show-based than canon-based, but I like that he could create this relationship between Grantaire and Gavroche and put another layer of narrative on his death.

2. Turlough Convery (BBC Les Miserables miniseries 2019). I know this series had a lot of problems but I think even for his screentime this was the most Brick-accurate Grantaire I’ve ever seen. We see him being loud and annoying, we also see his anxiety and we see his dedication towards Enjolras. We didn’t really get any exactly Brick-canon R scenes, but he managed to get across both the jovial brashness of Grantaire and the fact that he’s anxious and full of doubt until the end. And I know R’s physical description doesn’t exist in the Brick, but Convery looked more like I always imagined Brick R to look, down to the facial hair even.

3. Alex Organ (Dallas Theater Center 2014). Okay I know this is unusual but I really loved this Grantaire. Alex Organ played him with an air of defeated anger.  By the end, he’s got a bitterness that is more final than it is angry, like he can’t understand why they’ve all chosen to sacrifice themselves like this and he hates it and he’s bitter that all his friends are going to die but he’s realized there’s nothing he can do about it. He’s quieter than most Grantaire’s but it’s very intense, like he’s just radiating hurt.

4. George Blagden (Les Miserables 2012 movie). Again, not a lot of screentime for him but he did a good job looking all sad and mopey and stuff. I’m still sad his Drink With Me was cut, partly because I think Blagden’s interpretation of R was interesting, and partly because he has a gorgeous voice and I wanted to hear him do Drink With Me. I think he would have done a really good job with it, and with portraying the depth of Grantaire’s doubt.

5. John Rapson (US Tour 2010/Broadway 2014). I think I only saw John Rapson once or twice but I remember liking that he played Grantaire as a little more obnoxious, and that his drunkenness and obvious doubt or negativity was a little more of a disruption. I think he definitely played up the annoying factor of R more than the sad and moping factor, but that’s an interesting way to play it. Especially because it’s an aspect that a lot of fans ignore, despite Hugo kind of explicitly saying R was annoying, even though his friends did enjoy his company.

Enjolras:

1. John Campione (Dallas Theater Center 2014). Holy crap I loved his portrayal so much. He does a great job playing Enjolras like a stressed out passionate leader who is constantly stuck between This Is Finally Real Hooray and Holy Shit This Is Too Fucking Real Oh God. Most actors portray Enjolras as very controlled and upright and unfazed, but Campione portrayed him in a way that made it seem like he cared so much and was so intent on making all of this work and succeed. In the Musain scenes he’s very controlled, but once he’s on the barricade it’s like he’s being pulled in too many directions because he’s just trying to help everyone. It’s so good.

2. Kyle Scatliffe (Broadway 2014). He was so amazing to see on Broadway and his voice is SO powerful and just wow. I remember reading an article talking about how intense and beautiful it was to see him sing the line “we will not be slaves again” and I honestly cannot believe that this was the first time in Les Mis history that a professional version of the show cast a person of color as Enjolras. And he fucking nailed it. I love that he played Enjolras with such earnest power. Someone who knows what they can do and is going to fucking use it, but they also care so damn much.

3. Aaron Tveit (Les Miserables 2012 movie). I think this interpretation of Enjolras is more controlled than usual, more general-like, and definitely leans more toward the chaste, marble statue type characterization. But I think Tveit really plays Enjolras with a certain charisma. At the same time, I think he did a fairly good job portraying Enjolras’ emotional journey at the barricade: his conviction, then his moment of doubt, then his passion and determination and ultimately the sort of unbreaking glory of his sacrifice. (Sad as I am that we didn’t get permets-tu in the movie, I do love the way he juts his chin out like “I will not bow to you or anyone else”.)

4. Jason Forbach (US Tour 2010). His portrayal of Enjolras was a lot kinder, I think, softer. He was powerful when he needed to be (One Day More, etc) but in the Musain and stuff he was a lot more like one of the guys. He played his role more like a chosen leader, like someone who wants everyone’s input about everything but everyone has voted him to be the leader, so he takes on that role once he sees that things really need to start getting done. Also, his irritated interactions with Grantaire are even funnier if you know that he and Joe Spieldenner were dating at the time (now married).

5. Jeremy Hays (US Tour 2010). I only saw Jeremy Hays once, the first time I ever saw the show live. I think what I loved most about his portrayal was the power. The power with which he plays Enjolras is all passion. Definitely hitting both the “charming” and “capable of being terrible.”

[stardancerluv]

A Time to Love and to Fight

Chapter Nineteen

Summary: Changes swirl around Enjolras and his girl

Notes/Warnings: 18 & Older, please! PV Sex, lots angst, un-aliving /shooting someone mention, I re-wrote this 3 times! (If you want to know the other versions, just ask) I chose to veer a bit from the original story since this storyline/fanfic already has. I felt I still did right by what the character Enjolras would do. (No hate, please!) There are two collages, in the 1st one there is a fan-art version of Lachesis drawn by Amber Southerly. In the second, I used a couple in bed to stand in for that scene…that is a face claim! The dialogue between Enjolras & Govroche is taken from the mini-series!

Thank you, for reading! (It’s a long chapter) Be nice! Feedback is welcome! Want to be tagged, please let me know! ❤️ and of course…Enjoy!

Lachesis - The Greek fate who controlled the thread of life. She has become important to Enjolras & Y/N.

“Mon coeur, mon amour... mon ange.” - My heart, my love, my angel.

“Mon ange peut goûter le bonheur qu'est un baiser de toi?” - “My angel can taste the happiness that is a kiss from you?”

There are at 9 more chapters!

Your eyes were fierce as you turned, strode right over to him. “You shot a man.” The tone of your voice pierced him.

Taking a step back, he pushed the door closed behind him. He did not wish the others to grow curious. He had already faced enough questions, the night you showed up. He knew there would be more.

Rocking forward on his heals he walked up to you. You didn’t move.

“That man took a shot at Marius.”

When you didn’t say a word. He grabbed you chin. A wince washed over your face. He swallowed at the sight of it. He never wanted to cause you harm. With more of a gentle touch, and with no thought of his hand that was wrapped up, he brought your face up as he spoke.

“It was men like that, who dragged you into an alley.” He spat out.

Your lip trembled.

“I’ve seen men like that abuse and kill innocent men and women. He missed Marius the first time he aimed. I wasn’t about to give him a second chance.”

“You’re right, you’re right….” Your words were entangled in your breath. He could see your destress.

He could feel as you inhaled.

“I was just so scared.” It was then he felt as you wrapped your arms around him.

He would never tire of the feel of you. Wrapping his own arms around you, he sighed, holding you very close.

******

He was grateful. You had not run in terror at his brutal act. He was grateful that none of his comrades had not come to disturbed the two of you.

In that small room, against a bureau he leaned. You were cradled between his legs, your head resting on his chest. With his good hand, he gently ran a hand soothingly up and down your back. His wounded hand laid on his thigh.

Neither of you spoke. The silence laid like a blanket over the two of you.

“Mon ange, you give a moment?” He did not want to part from you. Right now all felt right. But he had made his mind up, he had to act on his decision.

“Only if you finally tell me what happened?” Your lovely hands were gentle as they lightly grazed the scarf that was wound tightly around his hand.

He pressed his lips together and nodded. “There was a scuffle during the funeral. At one point a solider tried to cut me down with his sword.”

“Oh, Enjolras my love.” You gently cupped his hand.

He nodded. “He caught the back of it. I am grateful, that I still have it. And I am certain, that only a scar will remain. My hand though in pain still moves like a hand should.”

His heart squeezed at the tenderness you then bestowed upon him. You pressed some gentle kisses here and there.

Quietly as he felt your soft kisses, he thanked Lachesis, for the gift that was you.

“Now, my ange I really must have my moment. Will you give it to me?”

A shadow of a smile fluttered on your face as you looked up at him. “Yes, of course.”

*****

Grabbing a small knife, he went to where he had seen the thread earlier. Relief filled him when he realized, he did not have to slice the pieces he found.

“As I twine this thread I wish for us to be together.” Enjolras wished silently in his heart. These feelings were new to him.

He had never been terribly sentimental. Half the time when he had heard or saw Marius being so lovesick, he had found it foolish. That all changed the rainy night you came stumbling into his life. After that mere walk in the rain something changed in him.

Walking back to you, he twined and tied and twisted the scarlet thread. He managed to make a delicate ring, easily he then made a small knot. The knot resembled a small blossom. He was pleased, his fingers remembered how to make such a small memento out of thread. He slipped the small ring into his pocket.

Opening the door, a smile played on this lips as he watched you fidget with your gloves. There were a few things he had come to observe in you, this one he found to be very endearing.

In a few strides, he was by your side. As you turned, smiling he knew what he was doing was right. Sinking down on his left knee, gently he cupped your hand with both of his.

“Enjolras?”

He smiled softly up at you. “Mon age, before you came stumbling into my life the matters of the heart I left for others.”

He swallowed, his heart once again thudded hard in his chest.

“I had always believed love was a foolish folly. I was and am no fool.”

Your smile was as strong as the sun on a summer’s day. Gently, he squeezed your hand.

“As we grew familiar, intimate I realized that you were the one my heart had been waiting for.”

“Enjolras, what ?”

He could feel as you trembled, your eyes twinkled. He caress the back of your hand with his thumb.

“Mon amour, years ago I pledged my body, my intellect for the betterment of France. As I am here before you, I wish to give you my love, my heart.”

“Oh Enjolras, I accept. Yes! Yes!”

He leapt up and pulling you close, he held you to him. Nothing felt so right as it did just then. With a sigh, he inhaled deeply of the sweet scent, that was uniquely yours. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

“I have a small token to seal this gift, love.”

You blinked. “You do?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

Easily, he took your left hand. First, he pressed a kiss just above where the end of the glove sat. “Let us remove this. Yes?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

He took a step so that he could place the ring he had twined more easily upon your finger. Once he had pulled the glove from you, he pressed another kiss this time to your knuckles. Slipping his hand into his pocket, he grabbed the ring.

“It is terribly humble.”

He whispered, then with the outmost care he slipped the scarlet ring onto your finger. Easily, placing it so the small flower sat on top.

“Though just as Lachesis drew our threads together, her thread allowed me to give you this symbol of my love.”

“Oh Enjolras, I love it.” And once again you were in his arms.

******

“Today we will remember those among that we lost. They were will always be remembered. In our hearts there will be men like Father Mabeuf, or ladies like Mademoiselle Eponine.” He cleared his throat. “But we will almost celebrate life and new beginnings.”

You smiled from where you stood. You were head to toe in a dark cloak.

“And we must remember, that last night we were able to push back the Royal army. We can and will do this again.”

Cheers rung through the warehouse.

*****

Quietly, he eyed his hands. They always trembled before a fencing match. Those days felt like they barely existed. They were like out of a dream. Now, they trembled.

Grantaire and Courfeyrac stood on either side of him while he waited for you. Hearing the muffled sounds from the warehouse, glancing in that direction a smile blossomed on his lips.

You were as lovely as a summer’s day. The dress you chose was lovely and delicate. Very much like you. Though, he was learning with how you handled the guards and then last night you were far stronger then he would have ever guessed. You were certainly the person, he was relieved that he would get to live the rest of his days with.

As you drew closer, for a moment he shut his eyes and inhaled. In his heart, he gave a moment to Lachesis. He gave her his sincere gratitude to experience this type of love. Exhaling, he opened his eyes and his heart leapt. You were beside him.

“Hello angel.” He whispered.

He offered you his hand. You took it and together you both faced, the gentlemen who would be marrying two of you.

********

Inwardly, you trembled and tried desperately to not cry as your mana slipped the buttons on the back of your dress. With great excitement, you spoke of peace that you could only wish would fall over the city. Your passionate words had been enough you convince your mama and Greta to allow you to enjoy a day at the park.

Once she slipped the final hook through the eyelet, impulsively you turned and hugged your mama.

“Oh mama.” You cried. Her frame was fragile. It had always been warm and soft while your father was alive. She was a wisp of the woman she had once been.

She gave you a squeeze. “My dear daughter, I am better. You no longer have to fret over me.” You nodded.

If life, if times were different Enjolras would have courted you. She would have found him dashing and intelligent like father. Father and him would have shared glasses of wine while debating life and the books that filled his library.

Instead, you were getting married in a warehouse Enjolras and his comrades had taken over. There would be no grand ceremony or celebration. You would have loved for your mama to know you were now a woman.

You pulled back and nodded, “I know mama. That fills me with immense joy.” You hoped she did not see the tears the filled your eyes. The lump that formed in your throat made it hard to breath. “It is just, I missed these simple acts of you helping me to choose a dress.” You smiled.

Enjolras and the men had already pushed off the army, they could do it again. Next time, you would bring him home. Mama, had a right to meet the man who made you realize all those books father had read to you and you had read; truly existed.

You reached behind her and grabbed your book. You held it up.” “I must not forget this.”

*******

Before leaving the house, you grabbed your cloak, its edges danced around your ankles. Simply walking in this dress would cause too much of a stir.

The walk to the warehouse today did not take as long as it had in the past. It gave your heart great comfort.

As you walked in, Enjolras stood apart from everyone. He was on one of the catwalks high above, it creaked under his weight.

Gavoche, came over to you. He smiled at you with a flair that uniquely was his, held out to you a small bouquet of little blue and white flowers.

“Gavoche!” You held a suprised hand to your mouth. It was lovely.

“Monsieur Enjolras gave me a mission this morning to find flowers that matched the blue scarf you wore the night we all met you.”

“You remembered?”

He nodded. “I may have wanted you tied up if you were a spy but you were the loveliest lady, I had the pleasure of escorting home.”

You smiled and took the bouquet. “You escort a lot of ladies home?”

He chuckled. “No, you are the only one and you are the loviest, by far.”

“Well, thank you so much.”

“You are so welcome, Lady Y/N.” He gave a small bow.

You were about to say how you were not a real lady when a hush came over the room.

It was then Enjolras began to speak. Giving him his your complete attention you smiled up at him. His words stirred a warmth in you, they dried your tears and melted the lump in your throat.

Yes, now they would marry but with their assured victory, you knew you’d be able bring him home to mama. As your eyes met, your heart filled even more with happiness over what the future would hold for the two of you. Lachesis, had been truly kind as she twined the threads of yours and Enjolras’s lives. Bringing a gloved hand over your heart, you thanked her.

*******

You were one of the angels he had seen in works of fine art. Only you were his angel in life. Relief filled him, that with the allowance his mother still sent along to him and with what he out aside, while still managing to hold onto alot for when it would be needed, he had found a small simple silver ring.

He smiled as Courfeyrac opened the small pouch and handed him that silver ring.

Your eyes grew as they met his.

He nodded. “I pledge my heart and love to you, till my last breath.” Then gently as if it had been made for you it slipped into its rightful place on your finger.

“Oh Enjolras,” His heart trembled with his love for you as he heard you speak. “My love. I pledge my heart and love for all of time.”

With hands joined, he turned with you once more to the man performing the ceremony.

“I offer this final blessing. May the air that gives them life and the love that has blossomed in their hearts now beat as one; till old age comes and envelops them in one final embrace.”

Cheers bounced off the walls of the small room. Turning, Enjolras gave his dearest comrades, his dearest friends Courfeyrac, Grantaire and Gavoche; a small smile and a nod. To know they were there at his side, he appreciated. Not a moment too late, Despiat popped his head into add to the sentimental wishes for the two of them.

“Mon coeur, mon amour... mon ange.” He whispered, cupping your cheek he closed the last of the space between the two of you. And inhaling deeply, his lips met yours in the first kiss as man and wife.

*******

Holding the skirt of your dress and your other arm around Enjolras. Together you both twirled, smiled and chuckled to the instruments and uproariously singing that filled the room. Spirits were high. Everyone was happy. Toasts were made, tankards clanked and candlelight flickered and twinkled.

*******

Earlier, while everyone feasted on what Despiat had made for the two of you and the others that evening from the kitchen of his pub. Laying on some crates, boards that had been carried and food and drink laid on them. Seeing a scout, slipped in from the shadows that lingered in alleys or corners between buildings he parted from you only this once to speak with him. You had tried to rise from one of the few chairs that had not been used to reinforce the barricade but had assured to remain and continue to enjoy the food and drink.

“Are you absolutely sure of this?”

The man dabbed his face with his handkerchief. He nodded swallowing. “They are hoping that by striking late tomorrow night, you will have grown complacent with your minor victory. Hopefully drunk on or even they dare hope in a deep slumber.”

Enjolras, paced. “They were will be certainly be surprised.” He smirked. He went over to the man, tell Despiat you may have whatever you wish. Please eat well. We will all need our strength.”

Now, he knew they would surely win once again. He could taste their victory. He strode out and on he again joined in the festivities of the evening. Sitting beside you, he smiled. All was as it should be in his life.

You reached out and touched his arm. He laid a hand over yours. “Alright is right with the moon and stars, my love.” He assured you.

******

Whispering to Courfeyrac and Grantaire, he had them make sure the windows and doors were fastened for he did not wish anything to escape. Once they were done, he stood and touch wobbly with his elation over the victory that was within his grasp, he stood on a chair.

He glanced down at you. He took a breath.

“Gentlemen, ladies word has come. By this time tomorrow, perhaps even later the army has planned their attack.”

Gasps filled the air.

“Do not let worry plague you. We know their plans. We can prepare and be ready. So drink, be merry but rest and we shall get ready to finish them!”

Cheers and clanking of tankards filled the room.

******

You placed your flowers on the table. Your fingers trembled so much that it took longer then usual to unfasten your cloak but you did and hung it on one of the hooks on the wall. Nervousness, coursed through you. “Is it wrong that I’m nervous?”

Enjolras paused before lighting one of the candles. He shook his head. “No, angel it’s not.” He lit the candle and lit the remaining few before he came over to you.

He came over to you and easily he pulled you close. “Forgive me, for in all the revelry I did not take a moment to tell you how beautiful you were today.”

You flushed, you glanced between the two of you before meeting his warm eyes. “Your eyes told me.”

A soft pleased sound came from him. “I am glad.”

You sighed closing your eyes as be cupped your cheek. “Mon ange peut goûter le bonheur qu'est un baiser de toi?”

Your eyes fluttered opened. “Yes, my love. My sweet husband.” You flushed.

“Oh I had never wanted to hear those words and yet, from you they are more lovely then the song of a bird.”

Your eyes met then and just as you took a breath, you felt the softness of his lips. The scruff of his goatee was comforting. Your arms wrapped around him, his followed. He was so solid, warm and safe.

*******

Gently, he lowered himself half on half off of you. “My dear wife.” You flushed with the kisses and caresses. But he was always be the honorable man you loved. He gently traced the line of your cheek. “I am aware that it is know it is tradition, for us to become one tonight. It allows our hearts to beat together to fulfill our bond of marriage and love. But with the excitement of the day, if you wish to wait and become one another night I can stop now. I am will never become a brut.”

You turned and his kissed his open palm. “No my love, I long to feel you.”

*******

Easing himself up from the bed, he paused as he stood beside. “You are so lovely.” He whispered.

In the flickering candlelight he could see a flush dust your cheeks. “Angel, you will have to grow accustomed to my compliant or I fear you will always be blushing.” He smiled.

“Maybe one day, right now I like the idea of being your blushing bride always.”

“Shall I Enjolras? Shall I shed chemise?”

He nodded. “Please. And I shall shed these.” Then carefully, since his hand still ached terribly he removed his breeches.

“You steal my breath, Enjolras.” Your soft voice reached his ears and his heart sped up.

“It is only fair since looking at you do the same to me.”

Bracing himself on the bed, he settled between your legs. “You have enraptured my heart.” Something, he never thought would happen or allow to happen. But you were special.

A soft sound came from him as he wrapped his hand around himself. He was incredibly aroused. The sight of you as the candlelight poured over your curves was almost too much for him.

Gently, he slipped his among your silken folds. They reminded him of roses that grew at his university. On the early mornings the petals would be kissed with dew. A soft moan that came you made his stomach tighten.

“You moans will undo me, angel.”

Biting inside of his cheek, he gently slid into you. Then his own moan filled his room.

Moving just so, he held you close. With his heart thudding hard, his lips grazed yours. “Pardon me angel, but I must tell you. I will always be grateful you came stumbling in that rainy night.”

You reached up and cupped his cheek. “It is the day, I truly started to live.”

A twist of pleasurable pain filled him; for there was part of him that felt the same. He kissed your palm, before he was able to find his rhythm and began sliding in and out of your warmth.

You both moved. No words were needed, just the sounds of pleasure from the two of twirled and mingled between the two of you. Your hearts echoed each other. Everything was exquisite.

Both of you burned as the passion grew. His curls became unruly as sweat blossomed on his scalp. Your strands, clung to your face they were as wild as a stallion’s mane. He drew closer and your lips met and the kisses matched the passion already between the two of you.

******

You took his hand and placed it over your heart, it thudded hard in your chest. “I will never allow my love for you to wane.”

“It never will, for till my dying day I will love you.”

He moved his hand up in gentle caress before he was able to cup your cheek. It felt as if the two of you sealed your words with a kiss.

*******

Fright gripped you and you woke. You could not understand the fear, no night terror had struck you but it had taken a hold of your heart.

You sat there in the darkness. A tear escaped one of your eyes and slid down you cheek. You pressed against your heart hoping to snuff out the fear, the pain.

“Angel?” Enjolras’s voice was thick from slumber. “What plagues you?”

“I don’t know.” You wept.

“Come let me hold you till the dawn.”

His arms were warm and strong as he held you. It was only then did you feel your anguish, begin to diminish.

******

“As the sun rises, we prepare. Will dispatch each royal solider. They taste our bravery and feel fear. They will quake in their shiny boots.” One of the platforms on the barricade, Enjolras spoke. His voice was rich with dedication.

Cheers erupted from those that gathered.

“Now let us prepare for what will be coming at sundown. We will not stop till the last gaps are filled and the barricades are secure. All of our bullets will be so made and rationed between all of us. And arm yourself with a blade. We will fight to the last of them.”

Once again the cheers erupted. Encouraging slaps on the back were given and fists shot skyward.

“Now go and prepare!”

You felt at a loss of what to do. You helped where you could. You brought cloths where the guns and pistols were being cleaned. With the aid of one of the other ladies, you secured pieces of furniture and whatever else you could get your hands on. All of if made the barricades stronger. A quiet seriousness fell over everyone. There were only murmurs of greetings. Eyes met silently.

Gavroche’s footfalls and the shortness of this breath, sounded louder. Seeing him you realized it was the first you had seen him since waking; that was a few hours now. You noticed others looked over or even glanced in his direction, but not really spoke aloud.

You watched as him and Enjolras disappeared into one of the smaller rooms. A knot formed in your stomach.

You felt as if a shadow that you could not run away from fell over you.

*******

Enjolras, patted Gavoche reassuringly on the back as he walked along side him into the small room. The young man was pale. And out of breath. This worried him.

“Son, what did you see?” He turned and faced him.

He chewed his bottom lip before he spoke. “It’s all over, comrade.” He swallowed. “Hundreds of soldiers are getting ready to attack.” When his eyes finally met his, they were watery. “And most of the barricades have been destroyed.”

He knew this day would come. He had been preparing for it. He would fight to the death. But you, you he worried about.

“Are you alright?” He was warmed once again by his bravery. He was a good kid.

“Me?” An easy smiled played on his face, though his eyes spoken of readying himself, Enjolras assumed. “Never better.”

“Go grab a scrap of the bread and cheese. Don’t breath a word of this. Let me address everyone.”

He nodded. “Of course.” He ran out.

Enjolras felt as if the air was stolen from him. Your terror had been prophetic. He would not let you die here. He would not make you watch if he were to die either.

“Enjolras?” Your voice floated through the air like a bird’s song. It ripped at him.

He would not let his anguish consume him.

@aftertheglitterfades @corrodedcoffn @dealswiththedevilsblog @randomstory56 @pl1nfa1 @phantomxoxo @ladybug0095 @the-iridescent-phoenix @maryan028 @netusha @kindablackenedsuperhero @amethyst-serenade @crazyworldofsiani @moondev1l @eddiethebloodiedhand @lluviamg06 @samunson83 @craftyhufflepuff @julieteagk @little-wormwood @gretavankleep37

[ufonaut]

best screen version of les mis? filmed musical, tv, movie, whatever? any honourable mentions? any nemeses?

i ADORE ur enthusiasm but it’s important to me to know whether you’ve been following me since like. 2012/2013 or it’s simply THAT obvious that at some point in my life i was completely obsessed with les mis and own four editions of it in three different languages

OKAY THOUGH LETS GET INTO IT. my definitive proshot of the musical is definitely the 25th anniversary on account of it being the first version i ever saw (and looks aside, ramin karimloo as enjolras is one of the few to ever truly embody The Passion For The Revolution imo) but 10th anniversary is also good! colm makes a GREAT valjean, etc etc. the recent filmed concert version of it is, in my professional opinion, a knightmare though

as for tv, special & honourable mention goes to the bbc miniseries, which is gorgeous visually and actually makes something of Do You Permit it? but simultaneously, i’ve gotten so used to it as a musical that i can’t imagine expressing all the Big Huge Feelings of les mis through anything other than a desperate need to burst into song so there’s. that. but again, wonderful adaptation, i’m sure mr hugo himself wouldve loved it

the 2012 movie is uhhhhh. i have conflicting feelings about it! again, gorgeous visually and i’m extremely fond of russell crowe kicked puppy face and the general valjean/javert dynamic but, as a life-long musical theatre fan, i must say it suffers from what all modern day movie adaptations of musicals suffer from. Famous Actors chosen over Actual Singers. these people can’t really sing, i’m sorry! I Am Begging Tom Hooper To Stop Adapting Musicals. make them actual non-musical movies if you want, the cast’s great!

and that’s my opinion that hasn’t changed in nearly eight years. thank you

[thecandlesticksfromlesmis]

if you skipped ep 4 of bbc les mis, you missed the part where Grantaire said something that annoyed Enjolras, so Enjolras threw a chunk of cheese at him and Grantaire picked it up and ate it. It was Quality

jehnt how did i miss this this ask?? i never saw enjolras throwing the chunk of cheese at grantaire and i really CANNOT imagine how that conversation on set happened?? was the enjolras actor like “can i plz do this?” or did Andrew say “you should do this” OR was it an on the fly PEAK enjolras characterization??

also now i really want there to be a blog called thechunkofcheesefrombbclesmis 

[saint-rouge]

Hello my friends it is time to get more controversial. I wanted to talk a little more about BBC les mis, Les Misérables the book, and adaptations in general.

I’ve noticed a lot of people getting very up in arms about the characterisation of very particular characters who arguably have quite small rolls in the scheme of the brick. A lot of this anger seems to arise out of adaptations which don’t align with fandom interpretations of these characters (most specifically the barricade boys).

I wanted to raise the point that many of these characters exist pretty nominally in the book, and have definitely been given a lot more life through fandom interpretations. I think it can be difficult to remember that many older people adapting these classic works are coming at these texts from a very different cultural standpoint, which doesn’t make them any less valid so much as different.

This is especially true depending on which characters one focuses on—something which has definitely shifted in the years since the publication of the book. Where obviously central characters once took the main stage, I think a more open queer culture has seen a lot of young people aligning themselves with those whom they best relate—that being the barricade boys and often also Patron-Minette. I love these characters and even their fandom interpretations as much as the next tumblr Les Mis fan. However, I believe that this reading of the text which stresses Les Amis de l’ABC, as any reading, is subjective rather than objective. Sister Sulpice, for example, has more lines than many of the barricade boys or Patron-minette, yet the lack of stress on her character in adaptations has largely been ignored in discourse because she isn’t so big in fandom.

I very much doubt that Hugo himself thought of these minor characters as being so vibrant as they have subsequently become in the public imagination. Considering myself something of a deciple of Barthes, I recognise that even Hugo’s interpretation of his own text is not the be all to end all, but likewise, I don’t think fandom interpretation ultimately reigns supreme or is more ‘right’ just because we find it the most emotionally resonant or compelling. The fandom is quite an echo chamber in which certain popular interpretations are openly accepted and those contrary to the majority are often crushed with no small amount of brutality.

I think it is important to try and look at the variance in adaptations with a more open view point, rather than watching, ready to critique anything that doesn’t align with some very specific portrayal of characters which anyone outside of fandom is unlikely to be familiar with. I think any adaptation is valid in some light, so long as it comes from a place of respect for the original text and an earnest want to portray what the adaptor thinks to be central themes, and even highlighted characters. Especially considering that interpretations themselves often reflect a whole life of experiences which, although possibly unfamiliar to you, are still a very real and valid perception to that reader. To that end, even parodies which many may find offensive still offer something to say about the original text which is still valid as an interpretation—hence the vehement protection of parody law in spite of parodies often being ‘offensive’ to one group or another.

It’s wild to me how many people have become militantly intolerant of other readings of texts, and have bandwagoned onto some very niche ideals about what things mean or should look like.

This is not to say that you should not write, read, and love a long haired blond Enjolras without a moustashe, it’s just to suggest that people coming from a different social/cultural context might have a different idea of what those brick descriptions of him look like. I just think we could all stand to be more tolerant of other people’s readings, and to engage in discussion with those we disagree with rather than demeaning certain interpretations.

[astarion-dekarios]

Courfeyrac for the meme 💕

favorite thing about them: Courfeyrac is positioned really well as the ‘center’. @shellcollector has talked a fair bit about the “almost historic” introduction of the Amis is really a ranking between transcendence and immanence. Courfeyrac, in the middle of these things, is both ideologically imaginative and rooted in the here and now. @arcadianambivalence the other day contrasted Enjolras’s reaction to Mabeuf’s death with Courfeyrac’s; Enjolras views him as a symbol, a martyr, and is touched by his death. Courfeyrac is wondering what was wrong with Mabeuf that day. They are both ways of caring about people, but Courfeyrac’s is much more personal, and I really like the way that he is intensely personal without ever forgetting about the greater struggle, too. He synthesizes those things.

least favorite thing about them:His Collection of women.

favorite line:“To save the transition, to soften the passage, to deaden the shock, to cause the nation to pass insensibly from the monarchy to democracy by the practice of constitutional fictions,–what detestable reasons all those are! No! no! let us never enlighten the people with false daylight.”There is really a fundamental disagreement and difference between Combeferre and Courfeyrac here and I feel like it’s not explored often enough; I want them to argue more!!

random headcanon:My Courfeyrac’s full name is Lucien Alexandre Jean-Marie Charles Antoine de Courfeyrac, and he goes by Lexi to his intimates.

unpopular opinion:Probably not that unpopular in my corner of fandom, but the fact that Courfeyrac is portrayed almost by default in fandom as gay [not just that he’s interested in men, but explicitly not into women] actually is very irritating to me.About the character himself: I think people really underestimate the extent to which Courfeyrac is in an active leadership role where he keeps people in line. Like, he’s the one who tells Grantaire to shut up on the barricade and I get the sense that happens often. Like there’s 3 levels there, Bossuet telling him to stop in an ‘I love you but come on’ type of way, Courfeyrac when he’s seriously out of line and needs to cut it out, and Enjolas as the last line there. Courfeyrac isn’t someone Enjolras needs to convince to be serious, and he definitely isn’t thinking Enjolras is boring and stuffy.

song i associate with them:  Hold My Tongue by Sheppard. You don’t get the full effect with just the lyrics, it’s just a nice upbeat cheerful song about overthrowing the government.I’m hoping somebody’s gonna hold my tongue.Oh yes I’m hoping somebody’s gonna hide my gun.I’m hoping cause I don’t wanna die this youngOh yes I’m hoping I’m gone when the man comes along.

favorite picture of them:Archie Madekwe as Courfeyrac is the only good thing to come out of BBC les mis

[decodedlvr]

ima need him to stand directly over my face in that first scene thankuuuuu

[fixaidea]

I had the weirdest Les Mis dream... it had the BBC cast and had pretty similar ending as the premise of @kcrabb88‘s Les Hommes de la Miséricorde (namely that Valjean saves like half the barricade along with Marius.)

...Actually the dream kept flip-flopping between whether the person JVJ set out to save was Marius or Fantine. Who was somehow still alive at this point.

Anyway, imagine most of Les Amis and Valjean lined up in front of Javert, with a wrapped-up body between them - who was supposed to be either Marius or Fantine, I guess I’ll never know.

Cut to the next scene, Valjean is riding away on a mule in a leasurely pace, dressed as Javert, (no idea, even by dream logic if he actually tried to pass as specifically him - again, BBC cast so... fat chance - or just AN officer) carrying the wrapped-up body, loudly scolding it and saying stuff like ‘you will run no more you scoundrel!’.

Also pretty much the entire ABC is sheepishly trailing after him, wearing disguises I have no idea where they picked up... Also Enjolras had a ridiculous, huge fake moustache.

You know.

Above the real one he already had.