Rise Up, Oh Heart, For There is Another Battle to Win

Anonymous asked: Things we lost in the fire C, X and Z if you don't mind? :)

*manic laughter* YEAH OKAY AVATAR AU IT IS

For this ask meme

C: Which member do you identify with the most?

…Grantaire.  Like, just generally.  It’s why the whole thing is from his perspective.

X: A character you enjoy making suffer.

GRANTAIRE.  No smart comments please.  But really, this whole fic could have the tagline “Grantaire has the power to move mountains and he suffers anyway.”

Z: Major character death–do you ever write/read it?  Is there a character whose death you can’t tolerate?

This is Les Mis, darling, character death is what we do.  I generally prefer canon if you’re going to do character death, and I don’t think I’ve ever written it except sort of in the reincarnation AU?  Anyway, Avatar is a happy story, please rest assured that I have no current plans to murder anyone in this fic.

Anonymous asked: Happy Barricade Day!

Originally posted by hetaeria

That’s the spirit, guys.

Nothing could possibly go wrong here.

*pulls out bottle of wine* Wake me when it’s my turn to die.

WHEN YOU SEE THIS, SHARE 3 RANDOM LINES FROM A WIP

skymurdock:

poplitealqueen:

amaronith:

onemuseleft:

“Funny. I don’t recall that I was allowed to do much talking about it at all.” Tony met his gaze briefly, mouth twisted in an unhappy frown, angry-looking dark circles under his eyes. His eyes were dull and tired and Steve fought back the urge to wince. He’d never wanted to hurt Tony, that had never been the plan, but they’d been together for three years and things could only be so painless after that much time.

“Yes, I’m sure. I may be a jerk, but it’s not because I don’t listen.” It was because his superhero secret identity caused him to bail on plans at a bank robbery’s notice and gave him a predisposition to what could be called compulsive lying, but hey.

Sue gave Peter an amused look, but gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “At least you’re self-aware.”

He wrapped his arms around Bilbo and hugged him, and he thought that if he didn’t hug anyone else apart from the hobbit ever again, it would not be a terrible thing. Hugging Bilbo was like coming home. Thorin had lost too many homes; he wanted to keep this one till the end of days.

“How is he, anyway?” says Obi-wan.

“Dude, can’t you use the Force to check?” says Darcy. “Or, you know, you could just ask him.”

“The Force does not work that way,” says Obi-wan, depositing her cup of coffee in front of her with a sniff.

Grantaire lets out a slow breath and scrubs his hands back through his hair, feeling tangled curls catch at his fingers and yank at his scalp. “Okay.  I’m going to go take a shower until I feel less like I’m going to have a panic attack.  Help yourself to coffee or whatever’s in the fridge.”

“Give me your phone,” Éponine says, and doesn’t move from where she’s sitting in a ball on the floor.  Instead she holds out her hand, palm up, with a stern arch to her eyebrows—like she’s reclaiming something that’s already hers rather than blatantly commandeering Grantaire’s personal property.

He hands over the phone. 

(Source: post-and-out)

Anonymous asked: Grantaire and Cyrano de Bergerac

enjolrarses:

listen i had to google this but now but that’s perfect

and sAD grantaire helping enjolras fall in love with someone else oh nO

grantaire not telling enjolras so he doesn’t lose the image of his eloquent lover

grantaire being selfless for enjolras oH NO

Anonymous asked: prompt: B, ship: E/R. Also I am reading things we lost in the fire and it's wonderful! Thank you for sharing!

2: At my worst, I worry you’ll realize you deserve better.  At my best, I worry you won’t. (I’ve never been better.)  

Modern AU motherfuckers. Behold, I have written fluff.  And thank you so much, I’m so glad you’re liking ‘things we lost in the fire,’ <3

Grantaire tugged at the cuff of his blazer, trying to resist the urge to pick at his outfit with nervous fingers.  Eponine and Bahorel had selected it for him, and although Bahorel wasn’t particularly menacing, Eponine had a key to Grantaire’s apartment, a Sharpie, a switchblade, and even odds on using either one—he wasn’t in a rush to disobey her. So, nice jeans, a graphic t-shirt, and a blazer it was.  It didn’t mask the fact that he still looked semi-exhausted, but Cosette had informed him, in her sweetest and most anxiety-reducing tone, that as long as he wore a thin layer of stubble, he looked much more the lovelorn artist than the over-caffeinated grad student.

He was pretty sure she’d only said it to make him stop hyperventilating, but it was a nice sentiment.

“R!” Enjolras shouted from down the hall.  “You’re going to be late!”

“Fashionably late is a thing that exists, Apollo,” Grantaire said, giving one more nervous tug to the blazer before he stepped away from the mirror.  “How do I look?” he asked Enjolras, holding out his arms and trying to look Enjolras in the eye instead of letting his gaze wander to a safe corner of the ceiling.  “Ridiculous?”

“Shut up, you look incredible,” Enjolras said.  “And fashionably late may be a thing that exists, but not when you’re going to your own thing.”

“Sure it is,” Grantaire said, dragging his eyes away from the ceiling with difficulty and flicking a glance at Enjolras.  “You really don’t have to come, it’s not a big deal.”

Enjolras shot him a Look and knocked one foot against the floor, not quite a stomp, but enough to make the sole of his shot thud loudly as he plucked pointedly at the lapel of his red coat.  “It’s your first gallery opening.  If you think I’m not going, you have another one coming.”

“It’s not really, Cosette’s father–”

“Don’t care!” Enjolras interrupted, sharp and bright and grinning.  He stepped over and pressed a kiss to the corner of Grantaire’s mouth.  “R, love, it’s going to be fine,” he murmured, taking Grantaire’s hand.  “You didn’t get this because Valjean knows the gallery owner, you got this because your paintings are incredible, and you’re going to go let a bunch of people with a lot of money tell you so.”

“Yeah,” Grantaire breathed, and offered Enjolras a shaky smile.  “I don’t deserve you.”

“I strongly disagree.”

“I know. I hope you never realize you’re wrong,” Grantaire said, and his smile was more earnest this time.

“Are you ready?”

“Never better, Apollo,” Grantaire said, breathless, and let Enjolras steer him out the door.

callipygianflamingo asked: hi, i just wanted to pop by and say that things we lost in the fire is an amazing fic! not many people can successfully write angst in fics without turning the character into a pathetic woobie drowning in wangst and manpain but you do it incredibly well! you're a super talented writer and i hope you have a wonderful day!!! :D :D :D

THANK YOU SO MUCH, oh my God I’m so glad you think the angst thing is going well.  I have a POWERFUL aversion to the woobie trope and I LIVE IN FEAR, okay, IN FEAR.  I’m so thrilled that people seem to be of the opinion that Grantaire is a well-executed character in ‘things we lost in the fire’, I’m???  I’m not a supremely coherent recipient of compliments, not gonna lie, but THANK YOU SO MUCH.

Anonymous asked: Hello friend, I just wanted to ask if you were ever going to update your R avatar fic... not to rush you or pressure you or whatever. I know you are super busy and such but I just wanted to ask because I like it and just wanted to know ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

MY BUDDY, MY DUDE, SORRY FOR THE DELAY ON ANSWERING THIS ASK BUT NOT THAT SORRY BECAUSE HERE, I FINALLY FUCKING GOT MY SHIT TOGETHER

CHAPTER SEVEN OF THINGS WE LOST IN THE FIRE, THE AVATAR GRANTAIRE AU THAT I CAN’T BELIEVE PEOPLE ARE STILL READING

*THROWS SELF ON GROUND AND GROVELS FOR TAKING TWO MONTHS TO UPDATE*

(hey just be grateful it’s not my Eponine Reincarnation fic, that one is actively on hiatus because the chapters are so long, I’m the worst)

piggybunny12 asked: EXR--Point of No Return from Phantom...or really anything from Phantom. I saw it last night and all the sudden it's sophomore year of high school again for me...

Not gonna lie, baby, I have not…actually seen Phantom of the Opera, but I googled the song and Tried. Yeah, yeah, I’m a heathen, I know. I am Trying.  And this.  Oh god. I make SUCH a rule about not writing smut except on specific request, so I just…stopped before it progressed to actual sex.  But rest assured that’s where this goes, and if you’re interested I’m glad to write it.

“Combeferre, make sure our weapons are prepared,” Enjolras was saying, the sort of rapid-fire rattle that commanded effortless attention.  He’d worked his way through every present member of Les Amis and then some by now, even little Gavroche getting instructions as they readied themselves for the next day’s march.  That just left…  “And where the hell is Grantaire?”

“Madame Houchloupe commandeered him as waitstaff,” Courfeyrac said with a wicked grin.

“What?”

“He means that she asked him to fetch more wine from the cellar, it’s crowded tonight,” Combeferre translated with a sigh.  “He’s probably still down there.”

“We are—this is not the moment for his antics,” Enjolras snapped, a scowl writing itself deeply into his features.  

“He’s been gone barely ten minutes,” Joly said, waving a hand.  “If you’re so thrice-blasted worried, go find him yourself.”

Keep reading

theviscountconsett:

grantaire-the-drunken-artist:

theviscountconsett:

AU where Grantaire is a hugely famous and successful fashion designer aged thirty (like, Alexander McQueen famous), who owns this international multi-billion dollar fashion house, but is also hugely famous for the fact that he’s anonymous, like, only ten trusted people at the top know his real name (one of them is probably Eponine, no, its definitely Eponine, she is his PA), everyone else knows him just as R, most of the people working for him have never even seen him. Outside of his fashion house he lives with Joly, Bossuet and Musichetta (he also owns their building which is why the rent is so low but shush they don’t know), who just think he’s their little cynic artist, like, they have no clue what he does because he’s just so vague when asked, ‘sell art shit’ is his usual response. And they keep asking him to come to Les Amis meetings but he just refuses every time.

And so one day he’s working on this really big collection that’s based on the Greek Gods and Eponine rings him one day and is like ‘we’ve found Apollo’, and texts him pictures of Enjolras (whose parents cut him off as usually happens in fanfic, and who Courfeyrac pushed into modelling part time because ‘you are the most beautiful human to exist you’ll make enough doing a week to retire for life’) and Grantaire’s just like ‘Eponine how much photoshop was used no one is that beautiful’ ‘Well see if he lives up to the photos yourself he’s over to your office’ ‘I’m not even at my office’ ‘well get the fuck over there’. And of course Enjolras doesn’t really want to be there because, even though R’s house is really famously progressive and actually does plus-sized stuff it’s still the fashion industry, it’s still a steaming pile of elitist shit. So they get arguing and it gets incredibly heated and after half an hour of outright yelling Grantaire just plays a klaxon noise on his computer and shouts ‘you are hired’, pressing the intercom ‘Eponine I’ve hired the guy, go show him the ropes’.

So begins a month of sexual tension, incredibly argumentative flirting, or flirty arguing, clothes designing and angst. (Grantaire also just keeps gifting Enjolras clothes and Courfeyrac just whines that its not fair that Enjolras gets all that couture when he doesn’t even appreciate it ‘look at this leather jacket Enj, it is one of a kind, it has been perfectly tailored for you, this is the bespoke of bespoke, we do not leave it on the floor!’)

And finally one day after the Joly-Bossuet-Musichetta trio have wheedled and whined and poked and prodded Grantaire for a week he finally throws up his hands and says ‘if it’s at a bar and I can drink I will come to your stupid activist meeting’. So they head off and its all nice and the leader isn’t there yet so they introduce him to everyone and they all chat and make friends and Grantaire thinks ‘this isn’t bad, I may enjoy myself’. Then Courfeyrac looks towards the door and says brightly ‘ah here comes our fearless leader’. And Grantaire looks over as well and the fearless leader is, of course, Enjolras and Grantaire just thinks ‘of all the activist groups in France my friends frequent the same one that my crush and employee who I argue with on a daily basis runs, of course’. And Enjolras comes over and stops still, Combeferre starts to introduce him and Enjolras just stops him and is like ‘R what are you doing here!?’ and everyone’s like ‘you know each other?’ and Enjolras turns to Combeferre and Courfeyrac and says ‘this is my boss’.

Everything goes to shit for an hour.

The meeting never actually happens.

They’re too busy interrogating Grantaire.

‘You own R? You’re R! We’ve lived with you since college and you never told us!’

‘You’re R! Your clothes are works of art I am not worthy!’

‘How did you keep this secret for ten years!’

‘I am going to kill Eponine I can’t believe she never told us!’

*Courfeyrac is cannot evening*

‘Grantaire I am legitimately impressed by your ability to maintain a double life, have you ever considered fighting crime?’

‘How did you not know I ran this activist group! How!’

‘You own our fucking building! You give us rent money every month! You pay yourself to live in your own flat!’

Eventually things calm down. Eponine is not allowed to live down the fact that she knew everything and never told anyone.

Everyone begins operation ‘get E and R together’. Chaos ensues, Enjolras and Grantaire get together, life is good.

Grantaire ends up hooking Courf up with clothing that hasn’t even reached the stores yet.

Courf also models part time because Of course Courf always puts on his best clothes and practically poses whenever Grantaire comes in a room and eventually he just sighs and is just

“If I let you model my new line, will you please stop acting like a tool?”

*excited Courf noises*

Chetta convinces R to make a sexy sleep wear for both men and woman AND OF COURSE HE HAS THE TRUSTY POLY TRIO MODEL DOWN THE RUNWAY IN IT BECAUSE FUCK IT
//Enjolras also models, but he ends up not wearing it long after he gets off the catwalk//

He gifts feuilly so many different kinds of comfortable and stylish work clothes.

He also makes Bahorel fitted and high quality work out gear

Marius gets socks as an inside joke, but does end up giving him the occasional suit for dates

Cosette gets dresses. All the dresses.

Entertainingly someone asked me for more headcanons (yours are awesome btw) when I originally made this post, so I came up with the story of how Cosette managed to blackmail Grantaire into designing her a wedding dress for free.

And this is like, the most beautiful Disney princess dress.

It is something along these lines:

But definitely once Grantaire is outed as the fashion designer R he just throws clothes at everyone.

Especially Jehan.

He has been holding back on it for so long but Jehan needs someone who can actually fashion to do his clothes.

Grantaire doesn’t particularly care that Jehan dresses in an outlandish, loud and ridiculously flamboyant manner, he just cares that Jehan has the fashion sense of a blind raccoon, so designs an extensive, coherent wardrobe of snazzy, flowy, loud and flamboyant clothes.

It also explains several things, such as ‘I knew the van Gogh in the hall was real! Grantaire you little shit you convinced me it was a copy for four years!’ for the trusty poly trio.

Life with them is just ridiculous for R for several weeks after the big reveal.

Because they keep just asking him shit ‘what else didn’t we know!’ ‘Do you have a long lost twin?’ ‘Are you married?’ ‘Is Grantaire even your real name?’ ‘If you own the building why don’t we live in one of the biggest flats, Mrs. Simplice from No. 55 has a motherfucking ballroom, why can’t we have a ballroom!’ ‘What do you even do with all your money!’ You lied to us for ten years, how can we ever trust you again!’ *Joly looks at his coffee* ‘I don’t even know if this is actually decaf, I don’t know anything anymore, my best friend has been lying to me for all these years!’

They are so melodramatic and R is so done with their shit.

(via returnofthemadking)