we are entering a grave illuminated by dawn.

-♞♛♝- if liberty and equality, as is thought by some, are chiefly to be found in democracy, they will be best attained when all persons alike share in government to the utmost. “You ask me what forces me to speak? a strange thing; my conscience.” semi-hiatus

[radsity]

Modern AU college where Enjolras is furious about the professor and R is just…enamored.

[glowtier-deactivated20190814]

DO YOU EVER SEE THIS PERSON ONLINE YOU REALLY WANNA TALK TO BUT YOU ARE TOO SHY TO DO IT BECAUSE YOU BELIEVE YOU ARENT ON THEIR LEVEL AND JUS T

[braavosz]

If he had come for me, I would have followed him.

[anoperaviolinist-deactivated201]

+ 4

[anoperaviolinist-deactivated201]

Genevieve thought over his question for a moment, fingers tapping almost silently against the wood of her violin. Her mother had never approved of the violin, but her father had played - and quite beautifully at that. He had been the one to teach her to play, to give her the violin. So she supposed it was a bit of both…

She watched him carefully, very thoughtful before watching him introduce himself. Her face split with a grin and she stood, as though looking for her own manners, and gave him a mock curtsy in return - marked by a clear rolling of the eyes. She then pointed to her throat and shook her head. She could not speak, but - her finger pointed at the name on the violin case: Mlle. Genevieve A. Firmin.

[chief-guide-andcenter]

"Firmin! Your father is the owner of the opera house?" He studies the violin closely and turns his eyes to her after a sufficient inspection, grinning. "Very fine, mademoiselle. The Opera Populaire is very popular nowadays--with all the plays going on, of course. I barely watch, but I hear the ballet is very beautiful. You have a new soprano, do you not?"

"But---I do digress, mademoiselle. I believe we have some violin to hear to." Courfeyrac tilts his head to the instrument, accompanied with the lifting of an eyebrow. "I know what we shall do--are you aware of Concerti e Sinfonie Op. 2 by Albinoni? Perhaps 4 bars of it. You first, then me.  Will this be fitting to your needs?"

[lafemme-revolutionnaire-deactiv]

[S] Niki: Smirk.

NIKI: Well, I move faster when you're not telling me not to rush.

You (un?) consciously make sure you're standing in front of him (that way the hydra will get you first, right?) as you carry on. Every time you make a hit an involuntary smirk jolts across your face. No one gets near him without answering to you. After all, without him you'd be going in circles- in this damn game or otherwise.

[S] Niki: Destroy.

[chief-guide-andcenter]

ADAM: I'm not telling you to rush because you can get hurt and it's dangerous this is a hydra we're dealing wit--

The monster falls and dissolves into a rain of multicolored gems and Combeferre straightens himself, catching one with a rueful smile. You try to stand up but fail miserably, sinking to the ground again while pushing at your dislocated knee. After some time, you look up to Enjolras helplessly.

ADAM: I may need some help.

[ask-enjolras-about-france]

Closed starter

[ask-enjolras-about-france]

Enjolras’ nails dug into Combeferre’s back harder as he got closer and closer. “Please." He whimpered, bucking wildly against the guide. “So close." He moaned out. “Feels so good. So, so, good." He rambled slightly as he approached his peak of pleasure. One of his hands moved to wrap around his own cock, stroking in time with the fast pace the other two men had set. 

Combeferre and Courfeyrac’s names left his lips in breathless moans and whimpers, broken up and ruined as he was brought closer to the edge. 

[thecentercourfeyrac]

Read More

[chief-guide-andcenter]

It's usual for Combeferre to finish after his partner--in this case, partners--was done, but Courfeyrac was making the task especially hard to follow. His hand was already squeezing Enjolras' shoulder tightly, forehead ducked beside his neck as he tries to control his breathing. There's a low heat pooling in his belly, and once he might've tried to make sense of where this was going, what was actually happening, why are both just so good---

Another thrust, and he comes with a sharp inhalation of breath, pleasure wracking his nerves as they spread throughout his body. He still tries to bring Enjolras and Courfeyrac with him, though, with a desperate rocking of hips.

[drinkwithmeenjolras-blog]

Rémy flinches when he sees the shock -almost fear- in Jules’ face. He is used to Jules being not always friendly with him, but that’s all right; he doesn’t need everyone to like him, although he often wishes the younger man would like him more.

 "Jules?", Rémy asks worried, when there is no reaction from him, only confused eyes and slight panic on his face. He doesn’t reach out to touch him again, but he waits. “You don’t look well", he adds softly, “Maybe you should go home again and lie down." The chances that Jules will listen to him are small, but that doesn’t stop Rémy from trying. After all there is a reason why he takes such an interest in the blonde student; he looks like Enjolras.

No, Rémy is pretty sure he is -was- Enjolras almost two centuries ago. Rémy himself remembers very well what happened back then, his alter ego, his admiration for the young, fierce leader and their group of friends. Their deaths. Rémy had remembered all this very early in his youth, and it had been the reason why he hadn’t touched a glass of alcohol, why he had tried his best in school - because if he existed in the 21st century, maybe his friends did, too? And the one thing Rémy wanted in this life, should he ever find his friends -and Enjolras- again, was not to be a disappointment again.

But when he had met first Bahorel, then Joly and Bossuet in high school, he had soon to realize that none of them remembered. So Rémy had started to drink again, although not as excessive as Grantaire had, but still enough that when he had -finally!- stumbled over Enjolras one evening the blonde Apollo had given him only a pitiful look. 

If Jules didn’t remember Enjolras, then… well, Rémy and Grantaire could live with it, but he still wanted to be there for the other student, should Jules ever need help. And at the moment he looked pretty wretched.

 "Jules!", Rémy tries again, “What’s wrong with you today?"

[chief-guide-andcenter]

"Must be the test today," Jules throws back, face steadily growing tempestuous. Why didn't he realize it? Rémy was so obviously Grantaire--it's as if he had woken up from a bad dream. Jules--who was Jules in the first place? Was he still him, or was he Enjolras? Confusing as ever, but he would face it with the same steely determination, folding his arms across his chest.

He ignores the dulled suprise on Rémy's face, instead opting to shoulder his bag and try to push determinedly past him. "There's nothing wrong," he insists, hands white-knuckled on the folder he was carrying. "Maybe if you had night terrors where you died every day with your friends, you'd be feeling the same way," he was tempted to say, but bit his tongue, face settling in a carefully crafted mask.

"Dreams, and the like. I'm sure you know how that happens, Cassandra." The blonde's smile is only as grim as ever, and his blue eyes snap to the door, squinting to try and see through the tinted glass. "Are you going in or not? I'd rather study for my tests and not fail. I can't say the same for you." He tries to make his tone as barbed as possible, and Jules can't help but feel somewhat annoyed as possible.

Rémy--as much as he bears resemblance to the alcoholic friend of his--doesn't probably realize he was Grantaire, and that he was Enjolras, and that they weren't supposed to die like that. He isn't going to make the issue rise again, though; the events that conspired in his mind were too heartbreaking. How could one bare their whole soul to another by finding a meeting point in how they died? Jules practically shakes off the thought, blinking harshly.

[chief-guide-andcenter]

Moan

Twenty: My muse will tease yours (take that however you will)

It starts like this:

1.) Both of you going into the elevator.

2.) Something happens that merits a spontaneous response to it.

3.) Your hand slipping under Grantaire’s loose shirt, forming themselves to the pattern of his ribcage, and somewhere, a distant thought of how beautiful he looks with expression half formed in pleasure.

"Technically, we aren’t even in—- in, you know, your. Flat. Yet." He swallows down his commas with a heavy mixture of clipped words and rough voices, and looks upward as his adam’s apple bobs in his throat. Combeferre just smiles indulgently and presses himself against the other again, barely moving his own hips as his fingers trace patterns on his torso, thumb pressing at the indent of his hip. Grantaire pulls at his scratchy sweater vest as a reply, and his red, red mouth turns up to the scholar again, dragging his tongue against his lower lip obscenely.

Combeferre leans forward again, lips barely touching, and Grantaire chases eagerly before he’s realized his mouth has disappeared again. “Do you expect me to beg because if you’re into that—-" he starts, and the doors ding open on the fourth floor and jesus christ is that Enjolras.

They freeze, and Grantaire cranes his neck to see Enjolras drop his folder in shock and Combeferre pulling away to catch it and handing it to his friend, hair mussed and glasses smudged and as if they weren’t making out in an elevator, not at all.

"I could take the other shaft," Enjolras says slowly.

[richelieux]

"watcha’ reading ?"

[chief-guide-andcenter]

replies coming soon.

[phoenixgoth]

“I’ve got both in one.” Cat answers at once. “You get ready, I’m ready to go right now. I’ll loan you Merlin. Princess, go wake Courfeyrac up, will you?” 

The Froslass phases through the next wall obediently, finding the dark-haired boy snoring soundly—she cooes, waking Vesta and filling the Ninetales in on the situation. Vesta listens, then barks, planting her forepaws on the edge of the bed and frantically starting to lick Courfeyrac’s face. Princess gives it a few minutes, before she pats Courfeyrac’s cheek with a cold paw, trying to wake him. 

[chief-guide-andcenter]

The first thing Courfeyrac does is to open his eyes.

The second thing he does—because he is so organized with his priorities—is to scream bloody murder.

Combeferre cringes, and after a minute the center pokes his head in the doorway, wide awake. “You didn’t have to send a ghost to wake me up!" He says, tone frigid. “Dear Arceus, what can I do with both of you.  What is it—" His gaze falls on the Braviary, and immediately he sobers up, holding up a hand before he rushes back into his room again.

"Merlin—your Staraptor, isn’t it? I’d be grateful. Aegis might be too slow." He pats the ultraball with a pink stripe on the top of it almost reassuringly, slipping it into his belt. “I would have Charlotte look into Animus’ head and see if she can find Enjolras’ exact location, but only if he consents." The bird nods his head furiously and the Espeon turns her head to look at him intently, eyes glowing in the dark. Combeferre unfolds a map quickly and draws a huge circle around a forested area, calling Charlotte back and handing it over to Cat.

"The general area," he clarifies, and bends to slip on his sneakers, pushing gently past her. Courfeyrac joins him with a glance inside the room and waving to the other trainer, grinning. “Okay, let’s save Enjolras. What is he doing out there, anyway?"

[dontcallmeabe-blog]

+3 Potential Clients

Logan was so not in the mood to socialize. But as she heard the doorbell ring, she forced herself off of the couch and dragged her feet all the way to the front door. she desperately hoped that whoever it was would be here for Henry, or to sell Girl Scout Cookies. 

She threw open the door and raised her brows at the stranger. “Well, you’re no Girl scout."

[chief-guide-andcenter]

"—I have cookies?" Courfeyrac says, pulling out a small, blue packet of oreos in his pocket. He smiles, and salutes sharply, heels of his shoes clicking together. “They’re not for sale, unfortunately. We can share, if you like. It’s all I have for lunch—" and the statement comes with a shrug, a small laugh slipping.

"The point of me coming here! Yes, let’s get to that. Mademoiselle, I am that common door-to-door salesman that people hate so much, but I can certainly pike your interest with some boring pamphlets, a letter, et cetera do you want to skip to the musical number?"

[sternbilder]

sighs jehan and combeferre tho

just try and convince me they wouldn’t have been intellectual bffs ok

jehan with his poetry combeferre with his science

the two sitting in a big library for hours on end

discussing authors and poets and philosophers they’ve read

musing on politics and law and religion and social issues

admiring the wonders of the universe together (✿ಥ⌣ಥ)

[archoness-archive-blog-deactiva]

and i’ll follow you, into heaven or hell

in the desperate kingdom of love

[archoness-archive-blog-deactiva]

les misérables roadtrip au: long days on the road turn into even longer nights spent together

[hamstr]

enjoying each other’s company with a beverage of their choice uvu

[chief-guide-andcenter]

When my followers message me : I'm sorry if this is creepy and we haven't talked before, but I think you're awesome ! God this is weird I'm sorry.

When I message them back : SCREAMS AND CRIES INTO YOUR SHIRT GOD BLESS YOUR SOUL I HOPE YOU FIND $20 ON THE GROUND.