#LesMisClub

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Poetry and Prose

RainHello, monsieur, I'm here once more
The same 'Ponine you knew before
I've been watching you throughout the years
I've shared your joys, I've shed your tears
You still remember me, it seems
My name's still whispered in your dreams
And with how little you know, and little you see
I'm glad that you still think of me

But did you realize how I loved you so?
No, of course not. There's so little you know
Like how badly I wanted to be by your side
Or those hopeless feelings that I had to hide
I tried to keep smiling, I tried to stay kind
After all, you didn't know that you were blind
Perhaps you know now, and you feel the guilt
Penetrate the walls yRain by ~xCrimsonxRosesx

TurningNo one would answer her.

She just came back from the country. She was looking for her Garen, asking where he had gone, and no one would answer her.

She was confused. Everyone in this little section of Paris knew Garen and his friends, always dreaming of a better world and drinking wine as if it were as abundant as water. Everyone loved their little group of dreamers.

So why would no one answer her?

She stopped her friend on the street. "Where is Garen?" she asked, "Have you seen him?"

Immediately, her friend burst into tears and walked away.

She was getting worried. The inn, she realized. The inn is where they were. So she started towarTurning by ~xCrimsonxRosesx

Combefurr/GranturrHe’d fallen asleep on Combeferre’s couch again. This was the third time this week that Grantaire had gotten excessively drunk and wandered his way into Combeferre’s apartment, and every time with the same result. He sighed and grabbed a blanket, spreading it over the unconcious man.

As he was standing back up, Grantaire sleepily grabbed at Combeferre’s arm, running his thumb over the smooth skin on the underside of his wrist. Combeferre couldn’t bite back a smile and leaned down to kiss his forehead softly, then running the back of his hand over his cheek. Despite the problems that came with it, he felt as thougCombefurr/Granturr by ~ChasserLeMatin

JMB for the masses :3Musichetta was flipping through a magazine, Joly idly playing with her dark brown curls, when Bossuet appeared through the door, soaked to the bone with God knows what. A large frown was spread across his usually jovial face. Naturally, this caused concern in the two on the couch.
"Bossuet, dear, what's wrong?" asked Musichetta, as Joly stood to get him a towel.
He sighed. "I was late to class for the millionth time, the teacher kicked me out, and on the way out I ran into a kid with a full bottle of Snapple, which he proceeded to dump all over me. I got to my car and heard odd noises, opened the hood, and found a squirrel dying on the carJMB for the masses :3 by ~ChasserLeMatin

It's Quite Unlikely the Two of Us Should StickAn Enjolras/Grantaire oneshot in heaven. Enjolras gets annoyed at Grantaire for trailing behind him everywhere and Grantaire reveals how he’s changed and why he went to the barricade knowing it was hopeless and died with Enjolras.

---

"Don't you have some wine you should be drinking?" asked Enjolras. He'd been dead for about a week and Grantaire hadn't left his shadow once. Their afterlife version of France was remarkably close to what Enjolras and the other revolutionaries had wished for, although things like money and food didn't matter much when you were already dead. People could wander as they please and still eat and drink but iIt's Quite Unlikely the Two of Us Should Stick by ~MeAndMyDikrats

The God and the Wretch by ~ArtemisInLove

it's just Courfeyrac's way of saying he cares"Good evening, Feuilly!" Courfeyrac greeted, springing up from the fan-maker's sofa.

Feuilly dropped his bag on the table. "I'm not even going to ask how you got in. You know what I think? I think you have the ability to walk through walls if it'll help you annoy someone."

Courfeyrac walked over and wrapped his arms round his friend's shoulders, embracing him from behind. "Did someone have a rough day at work?" he cooed.

Feuilly grunted and wriggled his way out of Courfeyrac's arms. "Don't take that tone with me; I'm not one of your pretty little grisettes you can lure into bed."

"You're no fun," the dandy pouted. "All I want to do is briit's just Courfeyrac's way of saying he cares by ~Spirit-Lily

he really does worry too much"Something's wrong with Combeferre," Enjolras whispered into Courfeyrac's ear.

"Well," Courfeyrac whispered back, "anyone who'd rather draw moths than spend a night with a pretty grisette is bound to have a few things wrong with them."

"No, I mean...he's...just come with me."

********

"Enjolras, this is Combeferre we're talking about," Courfeyrac said, watching as the blond student unlocked the door of the flat. "He's a medical student, for God's sake..."

"He knows how to care for others," Enjolras interrupted. "He forgets to care for himself." Knocking on the door to Combeferre's bedroom, he called, "Combeferre? Combeferre, can Courfeyrhe really does worry too much by ~Spirit-Lily

Euryalus Fasting and Nisus DrunkGrantaire rises, and looks around in vain search of his compatriots. He scans the doorways to the room, wondering which he should take, considering the tangled tracks his friends are likely to made made. Then he hears the stomping of footsteps-- to methodical to be a group of students rushing through the building. His blood chills as a voice cries out “vive la republique!”
He turns toward the sound and his feet move of their own accord. He clings to the doorframe as he reaches it, stunned at the sight. It is Enjolras. Betrayed by the dawn, the soldiers have found him. Grantaire can only assume that the barricade has fallen and the others are all dead or prisoners. It is too much to hope that they might have escaped. Enjolras must have fled into the Corinthe, followed by the soldiers. Backed into a corner, he stands no chance.
Grantaire’s mind whirls. What can he do that would save Enjolras? What force, what weapons would help him now? Does Grantaire even have the courEuryalus Fasting and Nisus Drunk by ~evlexa

When Tomorrow Come: Ch.1The bar reeked of cheep beer and a faint stench of vomit. Elliot winkled his nose in disgust. This was not the kind of pub he had envisioned. It was crawling with the lowest life forms. It appeared to be the perfect breeding ground for drunkards, prostitutes, and whores. Needless to say, it was no surprise Gary had fallen in love with it.
"Dude!" He yelled. "This place is fucking awesome! How the hell did you find it?"
"Unfortunately, it was the nearest place." The blond's reply showed all his irritation, not that his friend noticed. Before Elliot had even finished his sentence, Gary was already over by the counter.
Malcolm turned to face him, rolling his eyes at their companion. They followed after him, trying not to bump into the other bar goers too much.
Upon sitting down at the barstools, Elliot's discontent with the dive grew even more. The chair's were torn so that the springs poked into you. The beer was - at the coldest - lukewarm and chewy. This wWhen Tomorrow Come: Ch.1 by =tearsofbreakingglass

A Game for A Rich Young Boy to PlayThis life without you is dreadful.
Knowing that you were in my reach kills me.
I can't believe I saw you.
I have searched through every house.
Where are you?
I am lost.
My dear friend has found you.
Finally, I can meet the person who sparked my heart.
Are we close?
My heart full of love now has a purpose.
Your name makes my heart stop.
"Cosette."
My brothers need me.
Although I need you.
Either way, I know one if you will pay the price.
You have captured my heart.
If I die out here, I will die for you.
These barricades will earn us our freedom.
My dear friend saved me.
She must not die in vain.
She is the reason I found you.
We are the only ones left.
If only I said I love you before you went.
Would you weep, Cosette, for me?
I wake up and see you.
Thank the heavens I'm here with you.
But where are my friends?
Was it good that I was saved to be with you?
Or was I destined to die with my friends who fought for freedom?
I should be grateful you're here but there are phantomsA Game for A Rich Young Boy to Play by ~BlUeTuRtLe890

No Fear, No Regret I walked into the garden, the grass tickling my bare feet. The moon was shining high in the sky, casting a dim glow on everything. The night was quiet, a perfect time to get some fresh air.
I sat down on the stone bench, inhaling the scent of the flowers surrounding me. Everything came alive as a soft breeze blew by.
My head snapped up when I heard footsteps on the cobblestone outside the gate. I slowly rose to my feet and took a couple steps forward. In the darkness, all I could see was the figure of someone walking. I pressed myself against a nearby tree, hoping to blend in with the scenery and go unnoticed.
Suddenly, the figure turneNo Fear, No Regret by ~Cicada-Sofer

the glass is broken [ les mis / trigger warning ] by ~eponinny

Only on my Own ~MontparnasseXEponine~Montparnasse had never seen such beauty as that in Eponine Thenardier. She was headstrong and sometimes rude, although always passionate. She clearly didn't know her place, which was part of her charm. And although she could sometimes be hard as nails, she had a heart of gold.
Montparnasse hadn't felt this way forever. When he had first met Eponine, he was vexed by her nastiness. She clearly had no interest in her father's work, which showed that she had interest in other things. One by one, these things began to present themselves to Montparnasse. Eponine frequently looked through the windows of dress shops and gazed at flowers. She admired Only on my Own ~MontparnasseXEponine~ by ~Stars-Bread99

Salvation by ~Ariodat

There was a time(Les Mis)There was a time when Paris hadn’t made drunk a group of young people with thoughts of Revolution. There was a time, sunny days, lovely days before the storm. When Courfeyrac sang silly songs and flirted with girls, moments when Combeferre read his books and had time for sitting thoughtfully and thinking about philosophy. Jean Prouvaire – a well spoken romantic, was all of that romantic and lovely, a like young girl during her first love or like a warm spring.
There was a time when Grantaire didn’t drink so much, wasn’t that cynical (okay, this one is probably a lie), when he smiled a little more.
But there was neveThere was a time(Les Mis) by ~Katesmile

Grantaire's DecisionGrantaire knew what the revolution would bring. The blood, the shots, the cannons, and the thought of what was to come made him sink further into his bottle.

But it wasn't just his own death that shook him to his core, it was the fear of watching the fall of the only person he ever truly cared about. Even after nights of his usual indulgences, he'd lay on his worn mattress, on the cusp of dreams when the images would come to him. He'd see them all; Combeferre and Joly's expired bodies on top of those whose lives they'd inevitably try to save, Prouvaire with his hand on heart. But there was one image that disturbed him the most. It was EnjolGrantaire's Decision by ~Becca5002

LM:Serenade for a Broken Heart

At 6 years old, Julien Grantaire was the light of his older brother's life. Unlike his dark brother, he was a beautiful blond little boy with alabaster skin and eyes as blue as a summer's sky. There was a constant smile on his face, though that smile dimmed a bit when he brother was not near. The only thing that seemed to mar the beauty of this little boy was the fact that he could not walk. He was a cripple from birth and often had to be pushed in a wheel chair or carried about. However, this did not bother his brother one bit. Marcelin Grantaire doted on the child; having been an only child for 12 years straight, he loved the new company hiLM:Serenade for a Broken Heart by ~Tsunami-chan

Les Mis:Here They Talked of...

Title: Here They Talked of Revolution
Authoress: Tsunami-chan
Rating: G

He looks around at what is left of the now-empty Café. A table is knocked over here, a chair is smashed. Old bottles line the wall, and a splatter of blood on the floor stains the old wood like a crimson splash.

He collapses into a still-whole chair and begins to sob, his shoulders heaving as he buries his face in his hands. His vision is blurred as he raises his head, but none-the-less he can still see them sitting in their various spots around the Café, sitting there as if they will be there forever, themselves and the memories of them soaked into the very ground thLes Mis:Here They Talked of... by ~Tsunami-chan

Les Mis: Happily Ever After

I sweep the wood floor beneath my feet, trying to make our small home (if it can be called that) somewhat habitable. Ha! I bet you didn't think I knew words like that, did you? Well, I can read, too! I read those romance novels, the cheap ones that only cost a sou. I love them. They take me away from this cold world where there's never enough to eat and the only way to live is to steal. They take me to a place where a Princess gets rescued by a Knight in Shining Armor who is also a Prince and who is rich and has a castle, and they fall in love in the end and live Happily Ever After.

My husband calls me foolish for reading them, and perhaps hLes Mis: Happily Ever After by ~Tsunami-chan

A Heart Full Of Love

There be two that
stand in shadows behind
the clenching bars that case
my home – that stare with wondering
eyes upon my humble figure – thirsty
for the burrowing secrets of love

And one speaks with the passion
to fill my gaping glass – dry
and cackled – naïve without knowledge
of what lies beyond this barricade
I spend my wake-less nights
behind

He talks of names
and rising dreams
and a heart exempt of
lightless regret – to where we
wander without care of
whom we may leave
behind

The other lies ignored
stabbed by the sparkles
of our fantasy – of which she
cannot own – by which she lies
alone as her eyes trail behA Heart Full Of Love by ~Chararwen

Drink with me(Les Miserables)There are different types of tiredness. As well as differences in darkness. Like there is darkness, so deep and black, which reminds us death. But there is also darkness which comes after a bright day, taking us gently to a place where our tired minds can sleep.
Enjolras collapses on the chair as soon as the last member of the friends of ABC has left(it was Courfeyrac, who was singing one of their song about Revolution…)
Ah, Revolution! Modern people after us (and I think it is for the best) will understand the effect of that word. What do we know about it? Hundreds of years later after Enjolras an encyclopedia probably will say :&ldDrink with me(Les Miserables) by ~Katesmile

GrantaireGrantaire had always sat in the corner. It was almost tangible, how much he didn't belong here. He sat in the corner so he wouldn’t bother anyone- but of course, he did. He couldn’t help himself. But he sat in the corner because he wasn’t- couldn’t be- wouldn't be- really a part of their group. Grantaire has no fervent devotion to the cause, only to the man that leads it.
“From the table in the corner, they could see a world reborn.”
Grantaire did see a new world from his little table in the corner. Not a world of liberty and equality, as the others do, but a bright world, illuminated by the dreamer who leads the fray.
“And they rose with voices ringing.”
And in the end, Grantaire had risen. He had crossed the room to stand by the only thing he had ever truly believed in. His voice ringing, Grantaire had died a dreamer, a believer, as he had always wished to be in life, but never thought himself capable of being. And in the end, that wasGrantaire by ~evlexa

When Tomorrow Comes: Prologue Gun smoke filled the air. Blood blended with the puddles from the bit of rain. A blonde man remained hidden behind the barricade. He shot at his attackers, trying to fet them before they could destroy all that they’ve worked so hard for. Courfeyrac stood beside him. The shots from their guns was the only noise between them.
“Courfeyrac,” Enjolras began. “Go to the cafe and defend it. Help Granataire and whoever else might be there.” With a curt nod, he followed his leaders orders and snuck off to the building.
A sharp cry a few feet away from him snapped his head to attention. A girl with dirty brown hair fell from a gunshot to the chest. Marius dropped down beside her. In vain, he pressed his hands up against the wound to try and stop the out pouring of blood.
“E-Eponine,” His words were shaky. “You’ll be alright, this I promise. The Lord will allow you to live.”
Soft words escWhen Tomorrow Comes: Prologue by =tearsofbreakingglass

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