#enjonine fic

[usergrantaire]

oh my, love is a lie (shit my friends say to get me by)

Éponine still doesn’t understand how something like love can hurt, why anyone in their right mind would voluntarily give someone the power to hurt them in that way. And as the years pass, after her little brothers are born and her mother stops calling her chérie and her father abruptly sells their ratty little bistro before transplanting them to the slums of the city, as her father resorts to increasingly unsavoury ways of making ends meet and gets into the habit of taking out his frustrations on her while her mother sinks deeper into her cups and numbs herself to the world, her sober moments few and far between and usually spent fighting with her eldest daughter rather than parenting her children, Éponine promises herself that she would never make her mother’s mistake. She’s never particularly considered her mother to be a purveyor of valuable life lessons, but if there’s one thing she’s taught her, it’s that to love is to hurt. And she’s smarter than that.

(a prompt fill / late birthday gift for @shadows-of-1832)

read on ao3

[the-lark-not-the-dove]

I used to read Enjonine fanfiction (before I knew about Enjoltaire) and like, not that there's anything super wrong with the ship, I just don't personally ship it anymore, but in nearly every fic enj was so out of character that I can't believe I could even read them. every line I was like:

[enjolraspermettendo]

Hello!🤗 For the character ask, Grantaire and Enjolras?

HELLO DEAR!!!!!

GRANTAIRE

Favourite thing about them: he just loves his friends so so much. He died in a revolution he didn't believe in, at least not fully, becaus he loved them. It hurts him but he still loves them and doesn't leave them

Least favourite thing about them: he's an asshole, there's no way to put it. Also, he might be obsessed with Enjolras but he's also so self centered at the same time

Favourite line: "I only understand love and liberty" I have it tattooed on my arm :)

BrOTP: The chaotic trio that is Grantaire, Joly and Bossuet. I also find it a VERY interesting dynamic in fics were he is closer to Combeferre or they have a deep respect for each other (I just love Combeferre so much I sprinkle him everywhere)

OTP: Enjoltaire and Enjolras/Grantaire/Combeferre.

NOTP: Uh I haven't really seen any other ships for him around, this fandom is very set on Enjoltaire, I guess I haven't really seen anything that made me go HELL NO

Random Headcanon: if you follow me you know I Headcanon Grantaire as Italian and I will die on this hill. If that doesn't count then I also Headcanon him as an opera singer (connected to him being sent to the church choir as a little boy in Italy)

Unpopular opinion: guys, I love him, but he's an asshole. Y'all are apologists and need to stop to blame Enjolras for everything.

Song I associate them with: JUST ONE? ugh okay

Favourite picture of them: I can't find it right now but it's that still from the movie (IT WAS MY FIRST LES MIS ADAPTATION SUE ME) where he's sprawled on the barricade and he starts to sing drink with me

ENJOLRAS:

Favourite thing about them: He's so sure of his ideals, he's ready to sacrifice his own conscience, and yet he also cares so deeply about his friends

Least favourite thing about them: jesus dude, relax

Favourite line: "Brothers, he who dies here dies in the radiance of the future, and we are entering a tomb all flooded with the dawn." Or "Here the day embraces the night, and says: I will die with you and you will be born again with me." I can't pick

BrOTP: while I love the Triumvirate I also think that the fandom doesn't actually talk about his relationship with Feuilly despite joking on Enjolras having a "crush" on him. I would like to see more of it.

OTP: Enjoltaire and Enjolras/Grantaire/Combeferre

NOTP: Enjonine. Seriously, where did that come from????

Random Headcanon: he's a mama's boy. Also a daddy's boy. I don't know, I like to imagine him having a loving family

Unpopular opinion: that he doesn't *not* understand art, he fucking loves art

Song I associate with them:

Favourite picture of them: I don't have one tbh

[carphoegras]

I don’t ship most of these myself , but your rant/ramble posts on Les Mis ships are funny so I genuinely wanted your opinion on these 👁

1. Enjoltaire

2. Valvert

3. Enjonine

4. Marisette (or whatever Marius x Cosette was called)

5. Javonine (Javert and…Eponine 😭)

6. Marionine (A name a just guessed for Marius x Eponine because I wasn’t bothered to look it up)

7. and uhhh.. Granjonine (I think that was the name)

well hello darling! i live to entertain lol lets get into it i might have to put this under a cut because i think its obvious i have a rambling issue

Enjoltaire : a classic for good reason. they seemed really base level to me at first because i watched the movie first, but once i read the brick and really saw their dynamic i fell for them HARD. for me the beauty of this pairing is really rooted in the substance of their individual characters as opposed to like a romantic relationship. idk its so difficult for me to verbalize why i love them so much i think i just love the idea of finding common ground despite difficulties. enjolras and grantaire mirror each other in such a beautiful way that i feel the musical/movie couldn't really capture without demoting it to a puppy love grantaire/mean enjolras dynamic idk i have such an issue with some portrayals of them because i feel like they create a victim/abuser situation where there wasn't one but that's like a whole post within itself anyway i feel like im getting incoherent i love exr with every fiber of my fucking being just read the brick if you don't get it ok the movie and musical just dont do it justice and for the love of god avoid the fics written in 2012/2013 after the movie hype its all wRONGGGG (i love you george blagden but you created a twink grantaire movement) (they pull each others pigtails okay its a mutual obsession) (enjolras why don't you just ignore him baby? glutton for punishment my dear we all know if you hated him you wouldn't let him hang around) (anyway) i should make a seperate post about my exr feelings bc i could talk ab them for hours

2. Valvert: okay this is where i feel like i can be unpopular with the fandom. i fucking hate this ship. like physically, spiritually, all that. its one of those that i kinda lose respect for the person bc its literally a cop/prisoner thing. its not enemies to lovers. its not a hate love thing. javert's a fucking cop. valjean is his victim. the whole idea of people romanticizing this makes me feel so insanely icky and i think the point of the story has just gone RIGHT over some folks' heads please take a step back and think about it. neolib behavior sorry not sorry

3. Enjonine: enjolras is gay. just like, straight up in the brick enjolras is a gay man. this ship is spawned from straight girls who saw aaron tveit and use eponine as their not like other girls posterchild. just a whole bunch of hetero nonsense. same behavior as the joseph quinn enj x reader bs. honey thats a homosexual man and can we please stop reducing eponine to needing a boyfriend she needs a stable home and a goddamn therapist fucking hell

4. Marisette: okay. i LOVE THEM. i'm a cosette stan myself, and i'm a huge fan of a gooey love at first sight situation. they contrast my love for exr in the sense that they're a very easy love. their parts in the book literally make me SWOOOOOON i can put aside my beef with marius as a combeferre kin to appreciate how sweet they are

5. Javonine??: im sorry wh aht. did the snape x hermione shippers leak into the lm fandom or am i being fucking punked im not discussing this its obvious why this is wrong please tell me its obvious y'all are NASTY

6. Marionine: eh. eh. i mean, like i said with enjonine eponine's problems are not gonna be solved with a dude. i'm really not opposed to them, persay, its just that eponine's love for marius is so incredibly dependent and rooted more in her personal trauma than actual love, so i feel a little weird with them sometimes. sometimes it just gives anti cosette vibes (cough cough bc of the bullshit love triangle angle that the musical markets cough cough) so i tread very carefully with them

7. Granjonine: again what in the damn hell. i'm not dignifying this shit they could be besties but for the love of god george blagden did a number on the straight girls. STOP PROJECTING ONTO EPONINE IM GONNA LOSE MY FUCKING MIND LEAVE HER ALONE

thanks for the ask lovely, i do love rambling even though these ships are baffling lmaoooo

[barriss]

ao3 stats game

The gorgeous @lokinightfury tagged me for a thing, because she's amazing, so here I am doing the thing!

Rules: Give us the links to your wonderful words with the most hits, most kudos, most comments, most bookmarks, most words, and least words.

Most Hits: Evidently, my magnum opus, The Only One (Enjonine, Les Mis) WHICH I AM STILL WORKING ON, I SWEAR! I actually worked on it quite recently, so if anyone is still interested, I promise I will finish it!

Most Kudos: Surprisingly, Max's Annual Uncanny Hootenanny (Hellcheer, Stranger Things) which is a more recent thing I made. Very proud of it, glad people enjoyed it.

Most Comments: We have a tie between Max's Annual Uncanny Hootenanny and Munson's Not Your Mummy's Creepy Crawly Costume Party (both Hellcheer, Stranger Things).

Most Bookmarks: This is actually a shocker, but it's Sway My Way (Love is like a good pair of underwear) (NeuYako, Majin Tantei Nougami Neuro). This was just a random smutfic I wrote for this manga I was into waaaay back in the day.

Most Words: Unsurprisingly, it's The Only One again, sitting at about 64k. The next chapter is already at over 12k, and there's still quite a bit left to write.

Least Words: Not counting a stupid poem I wrote for Enjonine, which I can't really consider fic, the winner is Follow your inner moonlight (Don't hide the madness) (Rei/Jadeite, Sailor Moon), which is part of my Senshi/Shittenou series I wrote a long time ago.

I don't really know who to tag, so feel free to give this a go!

And thanks again for tagging me, Jenny! Love you!

[fixaidea]

Shipper tag game

I was tagged by @dual-domination :D

What ship were you completely obsessed with when you were a teenager, but now you don't care anymore? Completely obsessed is a bit strong, but I was really into Grindelwald/Dumbledore. It's probably easy to guess what turned me off the whole series in general.

Which ship would you consider your first one? I think it was Éowyn and Faramír from LotR.

Your first fanfic belonged to which couple? That's actually surprisingly easy to check because I didn't start to write shippy fic until my AO3 days - it's Enjolras and Grantaire from Les Mis.

Do you remember the first couple you saw a fanart over? I have no distinct memory of it, but it had to be something Harry Potter related, because my fandom life started on some forum dedicated to that.

Did you ever get into ship discourse? Not personally, but I did sit on the sideline with a bucket of popcorn. That, or going on and on about how and why I dislike certain ships, but I can't recall actually fighting anyone over them. (Most noteworthy are the Great Enjonine war of 2013 and the whole Reylo thing.)

Did you used to have any no-otp or have it currently? Reylo was part of the reason why I backed away from SW, it was bloody everywhere. Weirdly enough, Enjolras/Grantaire. Yes I ship it. No, not like that. The level of weird mischaracterisation these two suffered in fandom was off the charts, like, you had to seriously dig to even get some canon-era fic, everything else was modern AU with OCs that incidentally shared the name of the characters you wanted to read about.

Who were the couple in the last fanfic you read? Wu Xie and Zhang Qiling. ...Or possibly Wu Xie and Shen Wei, I can't remember which one I read last.

Currently, do you have any OTPs? The one I'm currently most obsessed over is PingXie.

Is there any couple that, to this day, you are extremely mad about not getting together? Honestly? Rey and Finn from Star Wars. They started out on such a great note! Like you coud actually feel that these two LIKED each other! ...Don't get me started on this one, I'll descend into a frothing diatribe against the Sequel Trilogy in 0,5 seconds flat. Disgraceful.

Is there any ship you used to dislike but now you think they are kind of interesting? I can't think of any.

Do you have any ship that, in the past, was considered normal but now you would be cancelled over? ...Maybe if I still enthusiastically shipped Grindeldore? My ships are usually either pretty vanilla or intentionally dark.

What was your favorite crack ship? This is a difficult question, because I usually take my weird crossovers more seriously than crack, but Enjolras and Captain America probably qualify?

Who is the couple you read more fanfics off? Huhh... that probably comes down to a draw between Enjolras and Grantaire from Les Misérables and Xie Lian and Hua Cheng from Heaven Official's Blessing.

What most of your ships usually have in common? There's often a 'two against the world' element. This applies across all sorts of genres from Maurice/Alec (Maurice) all the way to HuaLian.

What you absolutely hate in a ship? Negging and emotional abuse sold as '''banter'''. Plain old abuse sold as #relationshipgoals. Like if you're writing a dark ship that's all fine and well but don't ask me to pretend it's cute.

[otpyouaremyrevolution]

An Introduction:

Hi, I'm Tara! And this is my fan blog for the ship Enjonine.

A couple of things:

If you have a problem with Enjonine write it in your diary NOT my inbox.

This is a place for fun, so no drama allowed!

Here's a quick directory:

Fan fic recs

Fanart

Cringey shit Tara did in high school

[selffagellation]

Oh and hey I decided that this year I will finally post the enjonine feet fic. So gird your loins for that one ig

[2460nodone]

Trophies

Title: Trophies Category: Plays/Musicals » Les Misérables Author: AliceInSomewhereland Language: English, Rating: Rated: T Genre: Drama/Romance Published: 05-19-13, Updated: 05-19-13 Chapters: 1, Words: 3,671

Summary: They meet on their respective fields - his, baseball, and hers, soccer - and it changes everything. Enjonine modern AU for the Fic War on tumblr! Oneshot, rated T for language.

originally written for the e/e fic war and posted to ffnet. prompted with “soccer AU, baseball AU” by tumblr user samthenardier.

Chapter 1/1

He's not quite sure when he first noticed her.

Perhaps it was the weekend Courfeyrac hit the ball out of their diamond, and, as he played in the outfield, she reached him first to return it. He hardly paid her any mind, only nodding in thanks. She was clearly just as busy as he, covered in dirt and soaked with sweat, her shin guards smeared with grass stains.

Perhaps it was the weekend that it rained. Bahorel and Grantaire, playing on his team that weekend, were highly distracted when the women with whom she was playing declared their match to be shirts versus skins. She seemed to be the chief in insisting that it be the girls who played as skins, against the shirted boys.

The boys on his baseball team couldn't help but stare as the girls stripped, their shorts rolled low on their hips and clinging to their thighs in the rain, their tops bare, save for their soaked-through sports bras.

He noticed that she and her friends were frequently shooting glances in the direction of the baseball diamond, delighting and giggling when his teammates and opponents fawned over them.

Perhaps he noticed her the weekend that it was so hot they almost had to cancel – she, again, was shirtless, but this time her sports bra was soaked with sweat. They watched as she poured cold water over her face and head and shoulders – his teammates with hunger and desire, he with disinterest.

Perhaps it was the weekend he saw her running to their diamond, soccer ball under her arm and her hand entwined with another girl's, one with dusky skin and dark hair. They sat in the bleachers, watching and cheering and laughing. It was quite distracting. Afterwards, he watched as she made a beeline to Marius, just as Joly and Bossuet appeared to be racing to talk to her friend first.

He paid her little to no mind, though he did notice when she wasn't there sometimes, especially because his baseball team (and often their visiting competition) and the eternal pick-up soccer game that she participated in often went out for drinks together after their respective games were over. It seemed oddly quiet when she wasn't there, rare though that was, but it also irritated him when she was there, because she spent the whole damn time mooning over Marius and trying to get that freckled fool to pay attention to her.

He never bothered to interact with her; in fact, he didn't even know her name. Nor did he try to learn it. Whenever she came into his peripherals, he merely acknowledged her mentally as "Marius' Shadow."

However, everything changed when he was leaving the park one day, and came across her corned up against a tree, an older man who must have been her father screaming in her face as she cowed. When the man hit her across the face, he lost it.

He dropped his things, and suddenly he was next to her, then in between her and the man, then shoving the man away and shouting things that he didn't remember later. They tousled briefly, resulting in a bloody nose on his face and a black eye on the old man. The man stormed away, screaming and cursing at them.

When he turned, he didn't even have time to react before she slapped him sharply across the face. It left him momentarily dumb; he wasn't sure whether to pinch his nose to stop the bleeding or hold his smarting cheek. Then she was shouting at him.

"I don't want your help! I'm not some sort of damsel in distress that needs rescuing from some bourgeois knight in shining armor!" She shoved him, though it was hardly strong.

Her lip was bleeding and was starting to swell from where the man hit her.

Ten minutes later, he was in the dugout, trying to stop the bleeding.

"Hey," a voice said behind him, startling him. He turned, and there she was – fat lip, messy dark hair, long, thin legs and a torso hidden by an oversized jersey. She held a plastic bag in her hand.

He just sniffed blood, trying to keep it from running down his face more, and stared at her. He was hardly forgiving; if she resented his interference, he wouldn't interfere. He had a bloody nose and probably a black eye (try explaining that one at work tomorrow), all because he was trying to help her. So as far as he was concerned, they had no reason, especially now, to interact at all. He wanted nothing from her.

"Sit down," she ordered. Her tone surprised him; it reminded him of how his mother or his teachers would talk to him as a child. He wondered where she picked it up. Then he sat.

She put the bag on the bench beside him, digging around inside. From it, she pulled gauze, an ice pack, hydrogen peroxide, and band-aids. Without a word, she began mopping up the blood on his face.

"I'm sorry I slapped you," she murmured, keeping her eyes fixed on the blood that was still gushing from his nose.

He shrugged.

"It was my dad. It wasn't the first time," she told him quietly. He wondered why she was telling him this; from the look on her face, she was wondering the same thing. Then, "I'm Eponine. Eponine Jondrette."

He regarded her for a moment, and she finally met his eyes. They were a beautiful, bright brown, flecked with gold, but were dark and angry from the memories that were undoubtedly cycling through her mind. He looked at her lips; dried blood had trickled onto her chin, though she hadn't seemed to notice.

"Enjolras," he said. "Gabriel Enjolras."

Eponine's lips twitched into a small smile, then she got back to work on cleaning him up.

When she was finished, she threw the first aid supplies into her backpack. "I'll buy you a beer," she offered, "as a thanks – and an apology."

*

He's not quite sure why he kissed her.

It was several months after the day he fought her father.

They were heading off to the park together. His league's season was over, but he and his friends still met each weekend for pickup games. She had wormed her way into his friend group, and they had invited her along, eager to teach her how to play baseball. In return, she was going to teach them a little bit about soccer.

She met him on the corner near his apartment – it was more convenient for her to cut through his neighborhood to reach the park, as she lived a few blocks away.

"We need to run to my place," she said when he found her, not bothering to greet him. "I would've gone alone, but my phone was dead and I didn't want you to think I was ditching you.

Though they lived relatively close together, there was a marked difference between his neighborhood and hers. His was more affluent – he was a lawyer, the only son in a wealthy family, and therefore, his apartment was large and well decorated and safe.

Eponine's apartment, however, was one room of a giant, sketchy-looking complex. She joked that this was where the meth-heads came to die.

He worried for her safety.

Inside, however, she had done her best to make the place comfortable. It was colorful, but tasteful – very bohemian, but it worked because it was so Eponine.

She had hung curtains to separate her small bed from the rest of the room, and disappeared behind them for a few moments.

When she reemerged, she beckoned him over. "Enj, these are my soccer trophies from high school. I was being scouted for college, being offered scholarships and even full rides, but then I blew out my knee."

He hadn't known. He knew she was good, but not that she could have started in college. Nor did he know that her knee had ruined her opportunity to get out of – well, out of this life. It broke his heart; she could have truly been something quite incredible. She was smart, she was driven and talented, but lacking the resources to rise out of the life she so despised. To have come so close, only to have an ill-timed physical issue rip her chances away – he couldn't even imagine.

"That sucks, Ep, I'm so sorry," he told her sincerely.

She smiled warmly, though he could see a touch of bitterness in her eyes. "Whatever," she shrugged, "I have all these crazy trophies for my trouble!"

And she did. There must have been more than 30 of all colors and sizes, from participation awards to tournament placements to MVP's.

"My collection would totally kick your collection's ass," he teased, nudging her with his elbow. "I was given a partial scholarship to play in college. I wanted to go pro. I didn't have time for anything else, not even girls. My entire life revolved around baseball and school."

She looked at him. "What happened?"

He stared straight ahead at a trophy she had won her sophomore year of high school for most valuable player. "My priorities changed," was all he said. He could hear the hardness in his own voice; out of the corner of his eye, he saw her searching for something on his face before she turned back towards the trophies. He cleared his throat. "Anyway," he said, reaching out and touching a medal, "all my trophies are at my parents' house."

"I like having mine home with me," was Eponine's soft reply.

He looked at her. There was a faraway look on her face, an absent smile on her lips. "They help me remember a time when I was happy." She seemed to be talking to herself now, and he wondered if she remembered he was there.

He couldn't take his eyes off her, all of a sudden, and he felt something building inside of him that was foreign and, if he had to admit it, a little frightening.

When she turned to him, a questioning look on her face and an inquiry forming on her lips, he kissed her, swallowing whatever it was she was about to say. She responded immediately against him, and he pulled her body flush against his instinctually when her lips parted against his.

*

He's not quite sure why he slept with her.

He had never been with a woman before.

And she was vulnerable; he couldn't shake the feeling that he had taken advantage of her.

Marius and his girlfriend, the perfect, blonde Cosette, had gotten engaged.

Eponine had showed up at his door, in tears and completely inconsolable. So he ordered pizza, and ran to the liquor store around the corner for a bottle of Jack.

Three hours later, she was straddling him on his couch and kissing him wildly, half the bottle abandoned on the table behind her.

The whole experience, as intoxicating and wonderful as it was, was like being with a hurricane. It was wet and strong and dangerous, but he loved every second of it.

When he woke the next morning, she was in his kitchen, dressed in one of his t-shirts, making breakfast.

She kissed him good morning.

*

He's not quite sure when he fell in love with her.

They were out all night.

It was a warm night, in the middle of spring, a summery breeze sweeping through her hair and toying with the hem of her dress as she skipped around him.

Eponine didn't want to go home, and had talked him into staying out with her all night and going down to the docks to watch the sunrise.

"I've never seen the city when it sleeps," she had said.

They weren't together, per se, but Marius was married and Eponine was putting him behind her and now whenever she saw Enjolras she kissed him. He didn't hate it.

They had sat on the docks, swinging their bare feet inches above the water.

She grabbed his hand, humming a song into the wind. She was being strange; it was that mix of happiness and sadness that he'd learned to associate with her. Like she's almost ready to be happy, almost ready to let go of her problems, but she just can't.

She took his hand as the pre-dawn sky turns purple.

She kissed his cheek and then his lips when it turns pink.

When it turned orange, its bright glow lights up her face.

When the sun broke free of the water, she laughed. He had never seen anything so beautiful.

And that was when he knew: he'd fallen for her.

*

He's not quite sure why she wouldn't let him save her.

Eponine was stubborn, and always refused his help. He frequently reminded her that it was his job to help people, that it was his calling, but she would just snap at him that "a calling is a thing for entitled bourgeois boys," and that those he was "called" to help did not always want it.

When her little brother died, hit by a car in the middle of the night, he was not sure she'd ever come back to him.

She pushed him away. Stopped seeing him, stopped meeting him for baseball or soccer, stopped coming to his games and stopped showing up to her own. She wouldn't even answer her calls. Nor would she talk to any of her other friends.

Musichetta, her soccer friend, and Joly were dating, and even Musichetta had not heard from her in weeks.

When he finally saw her again, her face was gaunt. She looked like she hadn't slept in days, and hadn't eaten in weeks. Her already thin frame clung to her bones, her cheeks were sunken in, her hair was dirty and unkempt, and her hollow eyes had dark circles.

He didn't know how to save her, but for god's sake he tried.

*

He's not quite sure why she left him.

It isn't fair – that's the only thought that's cycling through his mind right now.

He's been sitting in this chair for, well, he doesn't even know how long. His friends keep coming to check on him, but he barely hears them. They can't say anything helpful anyway. They don't know.

All he can think of is her, of those precious moments by her side, as he stares straight ahead.

Directly in front of him is her casket. And he can't take his eyes off it, off her lifeless body laying there for those attending the wake to gawk and cry over.

He can't cry, he can't eat, he can't feel. He briefly wonders if this was how it was for her when little Gavroche was killed, and if that was the straw that broke the camel's back in her life.

He wonders, much more extensively, why he couldn't save her. He was always reminding her that saving people was all he wanted to do. He just wanted to help.

Why hadn't he been able to help her?

It was a sunny afternoon. They were sitting on the stairs of her fire escape. She was under his arm, resting her head on his shoulder.

"Not everyone wants to be saved, Enj," she told him. "Not everyone will let you."

"As long as you let me save you, that's fine," he replied.

She said nothing for a long while. "It might be too late for that," she whispered, avoiding his gaze.

And it was. It was far too late.

She was gone.

The only woman he had ever loved, ever cared for, ever had time for, was dead.

This was a woman who had opened up an entire new world for him, and he would never see her again.

He's not sure what comes next; now that he's lived in this world of hers, he isn't sure if he can live without her.

When he's angry at her, angrier than he's ever been before, he curses her name, screaming at her ghost for leaving him behind, for ruining his life.

He hates her; she destroyed everything about him, everything he was, and left this empty shell behind. He was fine before - he didn't know what he was missing, and ignorance truly was bliss. He was settled in his life. But then she appeared in it, and turned it upside-down.

He tries to breathe.

Azlema, her younger sister, walks up to him.

She wraps herself around him, and he lets her, squeezing her tightly. She, of course, knew Eponine too (in a way that his friends didn't), and just as he lost the love of his life, she lost her older sister - and her baby brother. So she understands.

"She loved you, Enjolras," Azelma murmurs, her voice shaking with emotion and thick with the tears that spill from her eyes. "I know she never told you, but she told me. She loved you, and she would've wanted you to know."

He cries.

*

He's not quite sure how he picks up the pieces.

It's been forever, but it's also been no time at all.

His nights are cold and lonely, and his days are torture.

Grantaire has moved in with him, though perhaps that wasn't the best decision on the part of his friends, as the other man is so full of anger and sadness himself that all they do is spend their time drinking.

Combeferre seems to catch on, because then he comes to stay, too.

Suddenly, he's forced to eat the food Combeferre has cooked. He's forced to look at Grantaire's artwork and give his opinions, he's forced to go to work and do a good job again.

He's forced to look at her photographs every day (but that one he does to himself), too. In them, she seems happy. She's bright and beautiful and alive. God, she used to be so alive, even when she was miserable, even when she was depressed. She could be in the worst mood, but being around her was like being in the middle of a beautiful storm.

He misses that.

Eventually, Courfeyrac convinces him to come play a pickup game.

It feels good, being back on the diamond. The power of the ball as it flies from his hand, the feel of the wind in his face as he runs from plate to plate. He especially likes being at bat, because smacking that fucking ball into oblivion is suddenly the most therapeutic thing.

And then the game is over and his friends leave and he's slamming his stupid bat into the ground, raging in the middle of the field, screaming at her at the top of his lungs and undoubtedly causing quite the scene.

He collapses, and then someone is there – Jehan, perhaps? – speaking to him, trying to calm him.

But what does it is Eponine.

No, she's not there, of course, but he sees her team playing soccer on the next field. Or maybe it's a different team, he isn't sure if her friends play here anymore.

He looks up into the overcast sky, closing his eyes to the clouds, and can almost hear her laughter carried to him on the wind.

He goes home, pulls out the trophies he took from her apartment and those he took from his parents' house. He places them in pairs around the apartment, wherever they fit - his next to hers and hers next to his wherever he can find the room for them.

"They help me remember a time when I was happy," she had said that first time he kissed her.

And she was right.

There they were, once again – playing baseball, playing soccer together, just like when they had become friends. This time, however, their endless games were in his apartment. But looking at their trophies together was, for some stupid reason, extremely comforting. It made him feel like she was there, in these dumb objects she had been so proud of.

He sees her in them. They make him think of her. And he misses her, he does, but she would want him to be okay.

She would want him to keep on playing, because she wasn't able to.

And that's exactly what he's going to do.

Fin.

[usergrantaire]

"If I asked you to stay, would you?" for Enjonine?

i hope it's okay that i cheated a bit and put this in part two of this fic 🥴

[pumpkinspice-prouvaire]

the internal debate of writing an 'enjolras and eponine having their first kiss in front of grantaire' scene because I think it would be hilarious vs. worrying that people are going to think I ship enjonine if i include it

[franisnotfine]

you came in swinging like apollo

rating: teen and up audiences relationship: enjolras/éponine thénardier additional tags: alternate universe - modern setting, alternate universe - criminal minds setting, light angst, 5+1 things, enemies to friends to lovers language: english series: part 1 of the our life is made by the death of others series words: 7k chapters: 1/1 (ao3)

“Special Agent Thénardier, right?” she heard on her left, much to her dismay.

Engaging in small talk was not one of Éponine’s favourite hobbies, far from it. She needed purpose to converse with strangers, usually because horror and tragedy invited themselves in their lives, and her few friends knew she preferred silence over mindless chitchat. So did the — her — team.

But Curly wasn’t part of the team. Not yet.

Plus, he’d clearly only skimmed over her file and had her rank wrong.

(5 times Éponine and Enjolras ride the elevator together + 1 time she does it alone)

[astoryinred]

sorry I totally forgot! https://m.fanfiction.net/s/13612225/1/

Hello! Please read this fic "The Kids are Not Alright". It's been updated!

[to-be-frank-i-dont-care]

[thatiranianphantom]

the ballad of andromeda and perseus

He never noticed the girl in the back. And now he can't not notice her.

A somewhat modern ExE fic.

Read on AO3

[textsfromumbridge]

Rules: post the last line you wrote (from any WIP) and tag the same number of people as there are words.

This thing is the entire reason I opened up my Marble Man document again because, well.... It’s @danverses and that fandom is the reason I know her and many of my other favorite people. 

She can’t hear something that isn’t real.

Who do I tag? Hmm.... @hihiyas @astoryinred @sincerelydayyy @foreverdrunkatheart @barriss @shadows-of-1832 @youareiron-andyouarestrong