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#bold of us to assume marius would see that but
pontmercysamis · 7 months
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*woman across the street getting robbed*
Marius: hey! get your damn hands off her!
Courfeyrac: really? you’re gonna threaten him by quoting “back to the future?”
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thelost-in-time · 2 years
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This request is kind of depressing, so delete it if it makes you uncomfortable.
Request for the boys with reader who just kind of disappears from time to time?
Like, whenever they feel empty they just go into the forest or something to get away from everything and everyone. (God I want to do that.)
I did not ask to be exposed like this (besides the going into the forest part) Also, don't worry, I've been meaning to work on some angst anyway. I know you said a forest, but I had some ideas, and you will see soon. Thank you for the request and being patient.
Tears of Themis boys with a gn! reader who vanishes when depressed
Genre: Angst and fluff
Warnings: Depressive thoughts.
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Artem Wing
Would take a while to notice.
Celestine brought it up when she asked where you've been going
Artem freezes as he realises he hasn't been checking up on you due to how busy he's been.
Immediately runs to go look for you.
"It's my fault for being too busy with work and not paying any attention to them." Artem blames himself.
Begs Luke to give him your location because all NXX members have trackers on them in case of emergencies.
You're in a forest, and he is very worried.
Runs to your location, afraid you'd do something drastic.
You're sitting on a low tree branch, a blank look on your face.
This man runs to you and pulls you into a tight hug, crying in your shoulder.
Afraid of losing you, so he begs you to speak your mind to him
You're not a burden, he wants to help you. Please speak to him when something is bothering you, he will never let you feel alone.
Vyn Richter
Be honest, you thought I would say he would notice, didn't you?
A lot of patients have been coming in lately, so he hasn't had time to see you.
Walks into your shared house after a week to find out you've not been there.
Knows where you would go, though.
Finds you at the beach. (Sorry to those who don't like the beach, I have an Idea) The same place you two met, and where he proposed to you.
Sits next to you in silence, gently holding your hand as you two listened to the waves crash onto the shore.
"What did the ocean say to the land?" "Vyn, no." "I will sea you for shore." "Oh my goodness."
Somehow makes you smile at his awful joke, gently kissing your hand.
"I'm here." Was all he said, letting you lean on him.
Vyn will be the light to guide you in the dark. He will be your home.
It's not even about what he is, but more about who he is.
He is Vyn Richter, your Vyn Richter, and he will be your rock.
Luke Pearce
Okay, but hear me out. What if Luke knew you before Rosa? He did have his own family before they died, so what if you were his true childhood best friend?
I digress. You had been feeling really down lately, the darkness plaguing your mind becoming stronger with each day.
You just got up in the middle of the night and went to the park you and Luke used to play in when you two were kids, and when he wasn't an orphan.
Luke's sixth sense activates before you can step into the park, Luke was there, hugging you from behind.
"That empty feeling plaguing you again? I get it, but I'm not leaving you alone." Luke mumbled into your ear as he hugged you close still.
Luke wouldn't leave you alone, he knows better than anyone else that being alone will only make things worse.
You two sit in the park in silence, yet it was comfortable, Luke's arm around you.
Pulls out your favorite snack from his jacket, the snack neatly wrapped up as to not make a mess.
Feeds you your favorite snack himself, trying to reassure you that he's there for you in more ways than one.
You're feeling empty? Luke will do his best to fill that void in you.
Soft kisses.
Cuddles always.
Marius von Hagen
Bold of you to assume he doesn't feel empty at times as well.
Goes on a hike up a mountain, only to see you sitting at the top of the mountain.
Sits next to you, watching the view.
Two people feeling empty and burdened by the world, feeling trapped.
You two know how the other feels, so you just hold hands while watching the view.
Gives you half of his chocolate, hearing that chocolate helps people feel better.
Shows you the paint supplies he brought.
Paints the scenery with you, letting you help him.
Takes you home later and allows you to paint your nails and his.
Only accepts clear nail polish, he is Pax's president, and he doesn't want people knowing you're official just yet.
Cuddles and more cuddles, his chin on your head as he holds you close.
End
Thank you for the patience, I had time to do this, so here it is.
I do have a question, though. Don't feel obligated to answer, but compare your age to the boys, and are you the same age, older, or younger? Perhaps all of the above? I'm just curious, haha
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surely-galena · 2 years
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Which Dr. Doofenshmirtz invention would they voluntarily keep in their home?
If you want to, you can also headcanon that it's Luke who comes up with all these wacky inventions in the Tears of Themis universe
WC: 0.6K
[images attached are not mine and belong to the Disney show Phineas and Ferb !]
MC/Rosa: The Wrapped Up In A Nice Little Bow-inator
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[image from here]
Because sometimes MC just wants to give gifts that look pretty on the outside :D
She's a very busy person, but she also cares a lot for her friends
And one way she shows her love is by gift-giving (demonstrated by the two birthday events we've had so far, I mean she gave eight gifts to Luke for eight missed years)
So she fires up the handy dandy invention to wrap gifts neatly to give to her friends later
And then proceeds to continue with her lawyer work
Multitasking at its finest
Luke: The Bread-inator
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[image from here]
The invention is a little too large for his tiny home, but bread
If he has a toaster, it also means a constant supply of toast -- provided he has things he can use the inator to turn into bread
He also appreciates that the invention looks vaguely birdlike, even if the bread is only for him and not Peanut
Plus, he's very excited to invite MC over for toast parties... and if they end up with too much bread, then perhaps the rest of the NXX can come over as well
"So what spreads do you have?" Marius asks.
"Spreads?" Luke echoes, thinking about the nearly empty, singular tub of butter in the fridge.
"...Perhaps it is not too late to bring over my homemade chocolate hazelnut spread," Vyn says.
Also maybe they end up feeding the crumbs that fall onto the floor to the roomba
Vyn: The Media-Erase-inator
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[image from here]
Vyn's gotta keep his reputation squeaky clean!
He probably doesn't use it much because he's already pretty good at all the reputation stuff, but he probably has it in his home just in case
It's more especially for those who try a little too hard to dig around in his past
If he gets ahold of any media sources he doesn't want, he can simply scrub them from existence
"There's barely anything about you online before you came to Stellis," Luke says idly. "Everyone's like, 'who's Vyn' or 'where's Vyn', but no one ever says, 'how's Vyn?'"
Vyn allows himself a rare pun. "Feeling vyndicated."
Artem: The Whale Translator-inator
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[image from here]
Artem just thinks it's cool
Also, many people will assume it is a phonograph at first glance
And since everyone already assumes he is the sort of person to keep a phonograph at home, no one really questions it
Plus, even though he barely has any opportunity to use it, its coolness prevents Artem from shoving it into storage and forgetting about it
Sometimes, if a whale documentary is on, he might turn the translator on to listen to the clips and chuckle at the inconsistent whale dialogue
Maybe one day he'll think about putting together a whale opera via splicing various clips together
No one will know what the whales are saying, but he will :D
And maybe MC, too -- that is, if he gathers enough confidence to ask her to watch Whale Opera: A Home Film Put Together By Artem with him
Marius: The Yodel-inator
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[image from here]
(The invention is the hat)
Because Marius just wants to impress MC one time with his definitely spectacular singing voice! He wants to sound so good that she'll see his voice in bold, all caps, and italics ALL AT ONCE. That's all he wants! Is that so impossible?
And sure, maybe she'll question his fashion choices, but since it matches the vibe he's going for, she probably won't think too much of it?
"Marius," MC goes, as he's adjusting his mic stand. "What are you doing?"
"Serenading you," he answers.
"Oh," MC responds, knowing full well what happened the last time he tried to serenade her. "Okay."
Marius can't decide whether or not to be offended over her less than enthusiastic response
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i-want-my-iwtv · 3 years
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I hope the rumours of Louis being a brothel owner aren't true, but if they are I can sort of see why they're going for this route? I mean, with a black Louis they can't have him being a slaver anymore, so maybe they're trying to find something that is also morally reprehensible for him to be.
TL;DR: My kneejerk reaction was to be saddened, and I don’t like that this is starting up, and will continue to fuel, fandom drama. Ultimately, if we want peace, we’ll embrace the fact that the existence of this adaptation doesn’t take away from the existence of the books, and it also doesn't mean we have to acknowledge it.
It makes me wonder whether AMC wants us to make a storm about this. We’ll see...
After all, what makes this adaptation any more important than the graphic novels of the ’90s, the graphic novel Claudia’s Story, movie!IWTV, or movie!QOTD? In fact, many fans here on tumblr consider VC to be a trilogy only!!! and don’t accept the majority of the PUBLISHED CANON so what makes anyone think we have any obligation to swallow this AMC adaptation as some kind of gospel?
I see movie!QOTD as a buffet of ideas carried in an official fanfiction work, and I don’t accept as my headcanon the various things it changed about the books that I didn’t particularly like, such as merging Magnus and Marius (which, IMO, effectively made both characters more morally reprehensible). I accepted the things I did enjoy, like casting a Black/POC actress to play Akasha. I see this AMC adaptation as a buffet of ideas, some can be taken, and some not, it’s just another official fanfiction work.
[Anon, I need to catch other ppl up on the information, too.]
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Deadline.com informs us that in the AMC adaptation for Interview with the Vampire, Jacob Anderson has been cast as Louis. I'm not familiar with him, but it looks like he’s a successful actor, from Game of Thrones and other things, he’s also joining Series 13 of Doctor Who. I’ll have to check him out from an acting standpoint!
Aside from his talent as an actor, this is by far the most controversial thing that's happened in VC fandom recently. I've been thinking about this for a few months now, talking about it privately online and offline, still gathering my thoughts. So this post is not engraved in stone, it’s initial thoughts on this.
I’m glad to see ppl talking about it and I’m sure we’ll have more public discussions. I’m trying to discuss it very carefully, but also, this is an entertainment blog, my opinions are mine alone, and I’m not looking for dogpiling on anyone, I have no obligation to respond publicly or privately to anything. Plenty of other ppl have differing opinions on this. So take all of the following with more than a grain of salt, I’m not being salty, I’m providing the links to the little info we’ve seen pulicly, I’m giving my initial thoughts, and I’m also trying to add a little levity because ultimately, again, this is an entertainment blog, and I try to add a little humor to help with such serious topics, humor can help ppl talk about controversial things.
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The casting of a POC/Black actor (I’m sorry I don't know the preferred terminology, let me know if you know what Anderson prefers) confirms at least one part of theilluminerdi articles that stated that Louis’ race will be different from the books. I didn’t post about these before bc I wasn’t sure how reliable theilluminerdi’s sources are (and I'm still not sure), but this was one major aspect that theilluminerdi announced before Deadline did, so now seems to be the right time to share those articles. For now, you can go check them out yourselves rather than have my reposting of the information, trigger warning: mentions of sex workers and race in the changes to the canon story of Interview with the Vampire.
>>>theilluminerdi articles from May 21, 2021 and July 15, 2021:
www.theilluminerdi.com/2021/05/21/interview-with-the-vampire-amc
www.theilluminerdi.com/2021/07/15/interview-with-the-vampire-amc-2
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^Meme of Dr. Ian Malcom from Jurassic Park reads: “Your writers were so preoccupied with whether they could that they didn’t stop to think if they should.”
I’m using that meme with a little levity here, clearly an AMC adaptation of vampires in which the producers/writers have chosen to change the race of a main character (arguably the original protagonist of the series) isn’t in the same VICINITY as the dinosaurs in Jurassic Park that broke out of containment and killed visitors to the park, but John Hammond’s intention for the creation of that park was very good, as I assume this race change was intended. Time will tell.
“But with this place, I wanted to show them something that wasn't an illusion. Something that was real, something that they could see and touch. An aim not devoid of merit.”
“Creation is an act of sheer will.” 
- John Hammond, Jurassic Park
Race is a more complicated subject than ever, so for AMC to make this bold change, I hope they have POC and Black writers on staff and are handling this very carefully. Even then, no racial group, including POC and Black people, are a hivemind, disagreements are bound to happen in the writing room, whether in good faith or bad. People have different intentions and motives, compromises will probably be made with the story in many ways, we all know how it goes with collaborations; the end product is a shared vision among multiple creators. This could be a potentially controversial adaptation, I don’t know whether they’re aiming for that or not, but with the elements it has so far, it seems to be headed that way.
Here's a comment by "Angellus" on the 5/21 article. It's undeniable that there's going to be the accusation of racism thrown at anyone who has any negative view of this change, regardless of their reasons. I find it unfair and narrow-minded that any negative response is automatically assumed to be coming from a racist point of view. To say that changing Louis' race is unequivocally an improvement fails to take into account how that change has a Domino effect on all of the other parts of the story. Not the least of which is that, if he is still a slaver/slave holder/plantation owner/(insert your preferred term) that adds a whole new racist element to his owning Black/POC people, even though, apparently there were Black/POC plantation owners. 
Not the least of which: How will this change impact his relationship with Lestat? Particularly when Lestat has the added issue of being described in those articles as having “mind control abilities” and “insistent that he gets what he wants and when facing rejection,” a terrible combination in terms of consent, even in a relationship of the same race, let alone invoking Caucasian/white dominance over Black/POC people, AND Lestat being the catalyst to Louis’ questioning his sexuality:
Lestat is insistent that he gets what he wants and when facing rejection, petulance can quickly turn to ruthless rage which causes frenzied acts of horrifically brutal violence. Lestat also has mind control abilities. Lestat initially infuriates Louis, but this soon turns to fascination which leads Louis to question his religion and sexuality. 
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^Screencap reads: "I love how racist everyone is in the damn comments, this doesn’t pervert the story you’re all racist and it’s disgusting. I’m looking forward to it, I hope you keep crying your salty racist tears asswipes."
It makes me question whether Angellus truly believes what they wrote, if this is an ideology, or a troll. I would suggest their use of the term “pervert” is correct though, pervert means: “alter (something) from its original course, meaning, or state to a distortion or corruption of what was first intended.” That’s what this race change does, factually. Although, in this context, “distortion or corruption” carries a negative connotation. It would take a lot to show how this change does not meet the definition or “to pervert,” though.
I hope the rumours of Louis being a brothel owner aren't true
I agree 1,000%, I was hoping that these were just rumors. But, aside from the race change, if this were the only change, I find Louis being a brothel owner to be equivalently morally reprehensible to being a slaver/slave holder/plantation owner/(insert your preferred term). Ideally, they’d change his career to something that doesn’t involve benefiting from the bodies/labor of others in any morally reprehensible manner.
I mean, with a black Louis they can't have him being a slaver anymore, so maybe they're trying to find something that is also morally reprehensible for him to be.
He might still be a slaver. Who knows. Being morally reprehensible as a mortal man didn’t seem to me to be crucial to the story, but they still could have chosen something better. It seems to me like they want a brothel so they can have eye candy for an audience who want to see sex workers, maybe full frontal nudity. 
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What also gets my attention is that Anne and Christopher Rice have not yet posted publicly about it, which leads me to believe that this change wasn’t their choice. They take every chance to brag when they’re proud of something, every chance to crowdsource about casting ideas or which VC books Anne’s fans liked best, etc., and in this case, as of Aug. 31, 2021, (and to be fair, maybe I missed it), I haven’t seen either of them post about this on the official VC FB, Anne Rice’s FB, Annerice.com, Christopher Rice’s FB, or christopherricebooks.com. If it had been their choice, I think they would have gladly trumpeted their credit by now, but maybe they’re waiting to do it in a specific venue. Time will tell.
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fremedon · 3 years
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Brickclub 3.4.1, “A Group that Almost Became Historic,” Part 1 of ??
We’re taking two and a half weeks for the six chapters of 3.4, “The Friends of the ABC”; I don’t know how many posts I’m going to spend on 3.4.1, but probably at least 10--this introductory one, and at least one for each Ami.
This post is going to be a lot of digging into translation choices--as, in fact, they all are; there is simply no translation that does not fail hard somewhere in this chapter. Accordingly I’m going to be jumping pretty randomly between FMA and Donougher and occasionally Wilbour.
So, to start out with Donougher, at the beginning of the chapter:
In those days, a period of apparent passivity, a certain vague sense of revolutionary excitement prevailed. Murmurs rising from the depths of of ‘89 and ‘93 were in the air.* Callow youth, if we may be forgiven the expression, was spreading its wings.** People were changing, almost unawares, just by virtue of the progress of time. The hand that advances around the clock-face advances, too, in people’s souls. Each individual was taking whatever step forward was his to take.*** Royalists were becoming liberals, liberals were becoming democrats.
*The French text on Gutenberg says “‘89 and ‘92,” as does FMA; I’m assuming that’s one of the errors from the original printing that was reproduced in later translations.
**This totally fails to get at the sense of FMA: “Young Paris was, excuse the expression, in the process of molting.” 
***Here, though--and the reason I went with Donougher for this passage--FMA fails to capture the sense; it has “Each individual took the next step forward.” The French is “Chacun faisait en avant le pas qu'il avait à faire.”
The bolded lines start us off in agreement with Combeferre: “inclined to let progress take its course,” “a fire can certainly create a glow, but why not wait for daybreak,” etc. Combeferre’s ideas of progress as an inexorable natural force are, according to the narrator, working already--the passage of time itself is pushing people towards more advanced ideas.
But if “each individual is taking whatever step forward is his to take”--Combeferre’s next step is going to be to revolution, violent rebellion. It’s not his first choice, but it’s where Progress is going to drive him.
I think this is the book’s usual twofold view of history again, Providence vs Fatalité: Progress--Providence--might be inevitable and unstoppable, but how we get there is undetermined--and relying on Progress on its own is, in the end, intolerable even to the most progressive and utopian mind we’re going to meet.
This argument continues in paragraph 3:
Other schools of thought were more serious. This one sought to establish first principles. That one set great store by rights. There was enthusiasm for the absolute, with infinite materializations of it envisaged. The absolute by its very rigor turns minds skyward and sets them loose in the limitless blue. There is nothing like dogma for giving birth to dreams. Today’s Utopia is tomorrow’s flesh and blood.
Utopias are good because they can be realized. We are not in the realm of self-improvement here--we’re not in Marius’s modality of dreaming without engaging with the world. This group is going to get its hands dirty, and that is correct.
In between these two paragraphs, we have this:
It was like a rising tide, complicated by countless undertows. It is in the nature of undertows to create turbulence, hence some very peculiar combinations of ideas. People adored Napoleon and liberty. We are writing history here. These were the mirages of that period. Opinions go through phases. Voltairian monarchism, a peculiar variety, had in Bonapartist liberalism a no less strange counterpart.
Hugo tells us twice, just in case we missed it the first time, that Marius’s politics is fucking incoherent.
I also commented on @everyonewasabird’s post here with notes on the translations of the bits about the Carbonari and the relationship between insurrection and coup d’etat; I’m not going to repeat that here.
The list of puns that have a serious bearing on politics is our instruction to read all of the wordplay in the coming chapters very closely. :D 
ISTR @pilferingapples​ had a good post detailing why it matters that the Amis save Lesgle are all from the Midi, but tl;dr, they are from the part of France where the Revolution first took hold deepest (it’s called the Marseillaise for a reason), and where the counterrevolutionary backlash at every stage was the strongest. They would have grown up during the White Terror of the Restoration. They’re no strangers to political violence.
And finally, Donougher really falls down on the translation of the last line before we get to the individual intros:
At the point we have now reached in this drama it is perhaps worth casting a ray of light on these young individuals before the reader sees them swallowed up into the darkness of a tragic episode.
Wilbour gets it right:
At the point of this drama which we have now reached, it may not be useless to throw a ray of light upon these young heads before the reader sees them sink into the shadow of a tragic fate.
In the original, “n'est pas inutile”--the same description applied to the entire book in the preface. We are spending time with the Amis de l’ABC for the same reason we are reading this book: its purposes are their purposes.
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i watched the dallas theater company les mis and here are my observations part TWO
i recently watched a modern adaptation of les mis from 2014! i took hella notes bc les mis being set in modern day has a LOT MORE than you would think! i just posted my act one notes, so here are the ones from act two. enjoy! :D
ACT TWO
(Building The Barricade)
oh javert,,,you and your red beret-scarf combo
everyone shakes hands the same way?? they all like. half bro hug. young people ig 🤷‍♀️ 
oh on my own is gonna hurt me huh
éponine has her hands up when she goes to take the letter to cosette that’s an interesting take
jvj looks so done lmao “really bruh just give me the letter i’ll give it to cosette it’s FINE”
omg first time i’ve ever seen éponine not take the money after the letter!! that actually makes so much sense bc she doesn’t take marius’ money when he asks her to find cosette’s house either. that,,,yes that’s good
the modern era begs the question... why didn’t marius just ask for cosette’s number?? i’d assume it’s just a thing that jvj doesn’t allow her to have a phone bc The Cops, but. maybe marius and cosette are the straight version of cottagecore lesbians they just write letters for ~The Aesthetic~
(On My Own)
i was right on my own was gonna hurt me
first time i’ve ever seen an éponine disguise where she actually passes as a boy lmao 
FINALLY A VERSION OF OMO WHERE ITS NOT JUST FORLORN SELF-CARESSING THANK YOU
surprisingly i have less notes here that’s fun i thought i’d have more
(Javert at the Barricades)
WOAHHHHH THEY DID NOT SKIMP ON BARRICADE SET PIECES THAT SHIT IS COOOOOL
oh the barricade scenes are already hitting too hard 
cops are in riot gear cops. are in. riot gear.
oh the javert spy thing that also hits funny because obviously
gavroche is armed with a bat i love you son
FULL VERSION OF LITTLE PEOPLE AT THE BARRICADE AYEEEEE
(A Little Fall Of Rain)
wait hold on why is marius not,,,singing to éponine on “why have you come back here?” he’s like. scolding someone,,, huh??
oh enj goes to help marius with ép!! and he calls over who i assume would be joly i STAN
MARIUS CRIES AFTER ÉP DIES KILL MEEEE
(The First Attack)
i like how jvj does the second confrontation here. he looks less angry and more like,,,compassionate and that MAKES SENSE bc yk. he’s telling javert he’s wrong but he’s not doing it out of spite he’s doing it bc this guy NEEDS to know what he does as a cop and realize that being a cop isn’t just enforcing rules, and it never was just that. 
i do love the exasperated “gO” from jvj that’s kinda great ngl
(Drink With Me)
i’m very sad that there won’t be any exr from these boys
v e r y sad here
i do see grantaire looking PRETTY sad though
bold of y’all to assume that the modern day amis would all be straight
okay i can tell that grantaire really is going hard on the Existential Singing like,,,sure he’s just standing there but like. damn bro
SO THERE A R E LADIES ON THE BARRICADE WHY TF ARENT THEY FIGHTING
BETTER SEE SOME CHANGE THERE
i just realized that the cockades are buttons that is the BEST
(Bring Him Home)
jvj actually looks kinda happy in BHH and tbh i kinda like it?? it’s only on the “he’s like the son i might have known” line but i like it
oh those vowels oh boy they TALL
(The Final Battle)
enjolras is for some reason, still angry...why...why bro....
the staging for gavroche’s death is INTERESTING bc he’s reaching up at the sniper on the tower. hm. i dont hate it
OH SOMEONE ON THE BARRICADE IS RECORDING I THINK!!! GOOD ADDITION!!
i can’t imagine how many blood packs they went through 
oh enjolras’s death okay so. he’s in a like. No Man’s Land almost, and the riot cops come in after him. it’s an interesting take because it almost mirrors the scene in the book, except obvs grantaire isn’t here. they also have an added scene after he dies where cops are checking out and using radios that is. that is EERIE.
jvj walks over to enjolras’s body 🥺
HE ALSO FUCKIN S C R E A M S WHEN HE SEES MARIUS ON THE GROUND GODDAMN MAN O U C H
thenardier steals combeferre’s glasses wow thanks for that added pain
thenardier and jvj have a mini fight oh that’s kinda cool hm
(Javert’s Soliliquy)
javert opens his soliloquy with some SPICY SADNESS OH B O Y he sounds broken already!! start strong!!
emotions go broken - anger - confusion? - mAJOR confusion - hopelessness 
javert can FLY! no legit he’s on ropes
(Turning)
turning is. turning is almost a funeral. 
OH THEYRE N U N S !
nuns are visiting the barricade 🥺 
OH DAMN “what’s the use of praying if there’s nobody who hears?” THAT CERTAINLY HAS WEIGHT NOW THAT THEY ARE N U N S
it has just occurred to me that people have been dead on the floor for like. a solid five minutes 
(Empty Chairs At Empty Tables)
“now my friends. are dead. and gone” he pauses like he’s realizing it just then oh OUCHIE
wait is marius,,,at the barricades? is he legit singing to his friends dead bodies? oh shit oh NO
OH N O OH NONONO THIS IS WORSE
THE BARRICADE BOYS RISE UP FROM THE FLOOR OH N O OUCH OUCH
they group up and salute him and wALK OFF NO OWWWW
*cosette and marius kiss* jvj: *COUGH COUGH*
marius and valjean’s lil conversation is interesting in the way valjean seems to ask marius “who am i?” rather than ask himself. he phrases it in a way that makes me think he’s like. quizzing marius lmao 
(The Wedding)
omg i think baby cosette and éponine are flower girls 🥺🥺
“go away thenardier” *madame mouths ‘dammit!’*
thenardier your boat shoes hurt me
madame: “get up! get up!” thenardier: “stop—STOP IT!” 
TWO GUYS ARE DANCING TOGETHER AND WAVE AT THENARDIER ON “this ones a queer, but what can you do”
yeah i think i found my new favorite thenardiers thank you dallas theater company
fantine sits on the bench when cosette comes by, cosette sits on bench next to her, and fantine tries to touch her but can’t 🥺
jvj just gave a hand-over-heart head nod to cosette but fantine gave it back i,,,ouch
ENJOLRAS AND GAVROCHE ARE WITH FANTINE AND ÉPONINE FOR JVJ’S DEATH
the chain gang is in the epilogue i repeat the cHAIN GANG IS IN THE EPILOGUE
the orchestra rests on the last “say do you hear the distant drums” and that was the coolest thing i’ve ever heard
that final harmony is MONEYYYY and i want to cry
OVERALL NOTES:
this javert has the most interesting interpretation because up until his FINAL SCENE he is the stone cold police officer, and he plays it SO WELL. like i have never been truly angry at a javert up until this guy, and whether that was because it was modern and resonates A LOT in 2020 or he just looks like a cop i want to punch, I DON’T KNOW but he plays it SO WELL and i love it so much!!
these thenardiers are the fucking BEST NGL they are the perfect mix of funny and cruel. madame t is also funny as HELL and i wish i had her talent lmao
i said it before but the police costumes in this show are. woosh. kudos to the costumer i took one look at those guys and was like “haha, no!.” vaguely related to that, i think this was the first time i nearly cried at Look Down like. the first song at the show, simply because of the convict getting the SHIT beat out of him on the floor. that hurt me and i hate that it is completely accurate to what happens in prisons today.
lovely ladies was,,,a LOT and tbh, i feel like it didn’t need to be. obviously it does show how horrible it is for sex workers, but that is why the music is there. the music and lyrics is there to tell what you don’t show visually. (though i do love the male prostitute lmao he took no shit)
i also said this before but the fact that there wasn’t bigger of a relationship between enjolras and grantaire kind of annoys me simply because they are revolutionaries in the present day. you can’t tell me that ALL OF THEM WERE STRAIGHT. with how many people i know now that identify under the queer and trans umbrella, and also how queer they are (to me) in the brick, the absence of any exr in a modern interpretation hurts a little.
in conclusion, this show was fucking FANTASTIC and even though i’m six years late, it still resonates hard given the time we live in today. i think i nearly screamed when i saw the cops in riot gear on the barricade because that is LITERALLY HAPPENING RIGHT NOW. this just reminds me how timeless the story of les mis is because you had to change LITERALLY NOTHING from the story to make it make sense in the modern age, and that is really the lesson you should learn from les mis; these things happen everywhere, and they need to be fixed. 
thank you for listening to my rambling, i am sure i forgot something because there was just so damn much but i hope you enjoyed otherwise! not-a christmas-tree out! :)
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wrathofthewind · 3 years
Text
iv. Child
A bowl of hot soup hadn’t been the trick. Once Arnalt had taken that young boy to his palace from the Jungles of Tahr, it required several bowls, more than a few butchered pigs and quite the large amount of bags of rice. The boy was insatiable. It wasn’t a normal appetite either, any stomach would’ve given out. It shouldn’t have been so alarming, but with rumours of his status as a Kurian child, the state in which he arrived, the hunger with which he ate— in an unrefined matter no less, it didn’t take long for the kitchen staff to stop sending out dishes.
“More.” Arnalt demanded, his chilly gaze sweeping over the service.
“Sire… we, we’re not able to continue.”
“What, did we run out of chickens? Is the State in my name so devoid of birds?”
The servant daren’t speak, but they had already crossed a line. Any other household would have them released. That’s probably what they wanted.
“Here then,” Arnalt tossed his bow and signaled with his chin towards the bag of arrows in the corner of the room. “Go hunt something then. Pallax!”
Pallax came walking swiftly.
“Can it be we really ran out of chickens?”
“Sire, they…”
He waited for the servant to clear the room. Nervous glances thrown sideways at both him and Tyssen.
“They don’t want to keep… feeding a Kurian.”
Arnalt pinched the bridge of his nose and slowly rubbed it, eyes closed.
The boy started coughing behind them. Arnalt approached him and slapped his back, making him spit a bone.
“No wonder you’re choking. Slow down!”
Pallax grimaced.
Nobody wanted to touch the Kurian, or look at the Kurian, or acknowledge it was there anymore. But Pallax was a loyal vassal, and willingly stepped in to try and place a fork and knife or other cutlery on the child’s hand.
Arnalt smiled at him brightly. “Thank you.”
It disturbed Pallax momentarily, who nearly dropped the fork. But just as quickly, Arnalt was once again stern-faced and pacing the room. He then sat in front of the child on the table.
“You.”
The boy didn’t pay attention, so he snapped his fingers in front of his face to draw his eyes. “Yes, you. What’s your name?”
“Mar… Marius.” He tried to speak between mouthfuls. “Marius Ihnat di Aedan.”
“So you do speak.” And had a strong name actually. Arnalt had already assumed the boy probably came from a wealthy merchant family, with the quality of his tattered clothes and the few jeweled accessories they found in his pockets. It seemed he might be of one with rank and title too.  
“What about your age? You look about 7? 8? Do you know how to count?” Arnalt raised his palm up to try and signal the numbers with his fingers.
“12.” He chewed the remaining bits of rice and potatoes in his mouth and swallowed briskly, immediately reaching for another bowl of soup and drinking it down, his adam’s apple bobbing up and down with large gulps.
Arnalt and Pallax both blinked, looked at each other, then back at Marius.
“That’s… then why do you look so…” Pallax said.
Arnalt lifted a hand to stop him. “Nevermind, so you’ve been quite hungry haven’t you?”
Marius nodded and finally seemed to be done with the food he could safely consume. He burped generously and quickly covered his mouth.
Arnalt snorted, while Pallax looked offended beyond belief. “Such lack of manners in front of his Highness, how dare—“
“It’s alright, he doesn’t understand what I am.”
“You’re the prince.” Marius said simply, his eyes suddenly wide and honest. “You’re the seventeenth prince, his royal highness Arnalt Azuria. The Eagle.”
He sounded like a pamphlet. Arnalt was mildly shocked. “Right.”
“…”
“Where are you from?”
“…”
“How did you end up in the Jungles?”
“…”
And the most difficult question. “Where are your parents.”
“They’re gone.” Marius looked down, fixating on his lap.
“I see.” Arnalt didn’t know what else to say.
“I know what they say. I know I’m cursed. Is it true this is my last meal?”
A lightbulb suddenly popped in Arnalt’s head. He started laughing heartily, slamming his fist on the table and shaking all over with his head lowered. “Is this why you’ve eaten all my chickens? Hahaha!”
Pallax was mortified.
Marius’s eyes watered.
“You silly child. I was just confirmed and crowned into the Azurian pantheon thanks to that Vegna Spyralia you carried in your fist.” Arnalt felt his face grow a little hot suddenly, having called him a child wasn’t quite right, considering he was only 4 years younger, but his body looked so young he couldn’t help himself. He wondered how long he’d been malnourished in those Jungles. It must’ve been several years. How did he learn to speak so eloquently? Why did he know his name, rank and title? How was he informed of the goings on of the world? Did he sneak out of Tahr? He might’ve unknowingly contaminated others so Arnalt made a mental note to order a full territory sweep. “I owe you a debt of gratitude, I’ve granted you my Mercy. You will not die under my watch, you hear me?”
The boy’s wet eyes blossomed, his arm immediately coming up to wipe at his suddenly wet cheeks.
Arnalt thought it was both a silly and happy occasion, so he kept laughing to Pallax’s horror. “Now, now, no need to cry. You’re safe.”
“I see.” Marius said, his voice trembling. “In that case…” he sniffed and composed himself, straightening his shoulders. “Use me as you will. I pledge myself to your house.” Marius lowered his head solemnly. It was a bit amusing coming from someone so young, who looked so much younger than his age.
Arnalt smiled, his chin resting leisurely on the back of his hand. “As you wish.”
***
With the battle aganist Ithana squared away and scheduled, and a few other council duties and reprimands already brought over to his desk, Arnalt wrapped up the final tasks of the day and went back to the kitchen quarters. 
He entered Marius’s chambers like a sudden gust, a heavy bag strapped on his back.
Marius instantly moved to stand from the bed where he’d been resting from his relentless training, no doubt ready to assist with the bag, but Arnalt had already sat down in front of him, and Marius remained with his torso raised but the rest of him firmly laying on the bed. He awkwardly tried shifting so that he could at least move into a more formal sitting position, even if the coarse robes he wore could never lend an air of formality to the situation, at the very least his posture could contribute. Next to him was a bowl of hot soup made with chicken stock, boiled chicken strips, corn and sliced potatoes, prepared exactly as they’d been years ago when he was still a child.
Arnalt had gone to the kitchen to order it and asked the staff to keep it coming throughout the night. Naturally he wouldn’t deliver something like that himself, and he didn’t want to make it so important that Marius would suddenly inquire about it.
A servant came in with another bowl and this time Arnalt waved a hand. “Alright that’s the final one, you’re dismissed and no need to send more until the morning.”
The servant quietly placed the bowl on the small wooden table next to Marius’s bed and just as quietly shuffled out of the room--their steps eagerly faster as they were allowed to leave.
Arnalt kept staring with an icy glare which to others would’ve seemed combative but to Marius merely showed Arnalt was deep in thought. It was still a little nerve-wracking, his whole countenance was already so cool and refined, like a porcelain doll with marble grey eyes. At times it felt like staring into a storm, and others like speaking to a stone. The eerie silence begged to be broken.  
“So, now can I say this is my last meal?” Marius said.
Arnalt was surprised by the sheer cheek of that remark. “Your humor is astounding.” And also how perceptive! Just like that, the porcelain glimmered back to life and a bit of peachy softness rose up, as if Arnalt was ashamed to have found that particular joke charming. 
“My impulse is to punish you, everything that’s happened, everything you’ve done, it’s all led to this. This is your fault. You need to bear responsibility. I did my best to warn you and you still won’t listen. And don’t say your duty is to protect me.” Arnalt pre-emptively raised his hand to pause Marius’s reply. “Your duty, first and foremost is to serve, and to listen. I expect my orders followed. Now with everything coming up, this time you will follow instructions precisely or so help me Aegerian gods I will deliver you to the Glaes Winterlands myself.”
Marius glanced at Arnalt’s fist. It was clenched unconsciously. Arnalt quickly released it. 
“Tomorrow, I’ll duel Ithana to secure a vote in your favor in the High Council.”
“As if a vote would matter much...” Marius muttered.
“Of course a vote matters for shit.” Arnalt exclaimed. “I’ll just act as a distraction.”
“My Lord-- why would... that’s not--” Marius looked deeply uncomfortable and ready to jump in and make some bold statement, but Arnalt cut in before he could even start.
“And you, so-called hellhound of Kur,” Arnalt threw the bag he’d been carrying on his back on the ground, a weight off his shoulders that was so visible his body practically lifted once he’d let that bag go, “you’ll run away.”
Marius paled. 
“This is where we say our goodbyes. May you have a good life.”
He couldn’t understand why Marius looked so shocked, or why his fists clenched. 
True, his life might be difficult outside of the palace of the 17th Prince, but he could manage at least a few weeks on his own before anyone recognized his identity. There were ways to hide the marks that made him a Kurian. Either way, the boy had been extensively trained and should if anything find some manual labor in a small village somewhere. 
They both heard a few hard steps and then the door slid, Tyssen had entered and bowed quickly. “Your highness, I’ve arranged everything.”
“Tyssen will brief you on your escape route.” Arnalt stood up.
Marius quickly rose to his feet. “My Lord, wait I—!”
“Make sure he memorizes that map tonight and have him equipped by dawn. I’ll try to keep the battle going until noon.”
Even Tyssen’s eyes widened, but he knew better than to contradict. He bowed once more. “Yes, your Highness, and-- Calm down you!” He pushed Marius back and locked the door as Arnalt left.
Arnalt heard Marius yelling behind him. “My Lord please reconsider. This is impossible! My Lord listen—!”
But Arnalt quickly walked away to avoid changing his mind. This was as much as he could do, battle Ithana until his body gave out, at least by then Marius would have escaped, and he would’ve kept his word.
Marius would absolutely not die under his watch. And he’d already made as much use of Marius’s oath as he could. The boy had downright become a liability anyway. 
Even if the idea of remaining in the arena, standing, for seven hours straight against Ithana… was probably exactly as Marius had said: impossible.
Well fuck impossible.
Arnalt unconsciously gripped his Aerial ring between two fingers and turned it nervously. After a while, he’d already let go. 
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onthesandsofdreams · 4 years
Text
The Princess & The King’s Shade
Fandom: Wonder Woman Pairing: Steve x Diana Rating: T Summary:  “No, that’s…” she stumbles over her words. Then, she regains her wits and stands tall and proud. “Who really are you, and try not to lie to me.” Words: 1277 Notes: Chapter 2. In which Steve Trevor enters the story full force. As usual, for dearest @steventrevor.
Read @ AO3 | Previous Chapter | 
Diana’s eyes grew wide.
“No, that’s…” she stumbles over her words. Then, she regains her wits and stands tall and proud. “Who really are you, and try not to lie to me.” Her voice is firm, brokers no arguments and is grateful for all those lessons her mother taught her.
The shade of the man seems more amused than anything else. He simply arches a well groomed eyebrow, walks closer to her, lips curled upwards. “I am who I say I am. I am King Steven, of the House of Trevor. King of Germania.” He then tilts his head. “The real question is, who are you?”
She looks at the shade, she knows that shades and ghost can lie. They do lie, some with ill intent, but there is something that has raised goosebumps on her arms. “My name is Diana, an ambassador from Queen Hippolyta from Themyscira.” Until she knows if the shade is lying, she will not say who she really is.
The man’s eyebrows go up. “Really? Hippolyta is sending an ambassador, that’s a surprise. Bad timing though, sorry to say.”
The tone of his voice makes her grind her teeth. “Queen Hippolyta is wise.” She says, but her voice is sharp, a warning for the shade.
The man shrugs. “Perhaps so, but the truth is, she could not have picked a worst time to try and forge an alliance – if that’s what she wants. If not, she still picked the wrong time. The House of Trevor is no more.” His voice trails and she can hear the grief in his voice. He turns his back to her and she feels pity for the man.
“And why is that?” She needs to thread carefully, she doesn’t want the shade to leave without answering some questions.
“Did you know, that these rooms were my sister’s when she was alive? Sickness took her away, my mother never really recovered from the blow. She would walk around with a cloud of sadness upon her. My father tried his best, but even he passed away soon after and my mother… well, she gave up. I was left all alone.”
She is torn between feeling terrible for the man, and being wary, she needs to be careful now, because if the man is telling the true, then it must have been a deep blow to loose his entire family so soon after each other. But if he is lying, she risks falling for the tramp of believing that story and be dragged into her own grave.
“But it wasn’t all that bad. I made friends, found a family entirely on my own. Darling Etta, best wizard that I could possibly find, brave and bold with softness to her that goes unmatched. Charlie, Napi and Sammy… my personal guards and closest friends and confidants. I could not ask for better people around me.”
“What happened to them?” She asks, hoping the man will know.
“Etta? She’s been controlled. That’s the woman who helped you early, she doesn’t remember her magic, nor can she see me.” The man turned and she could see that there were tear tracks on his translucent face. “The others? I don’t know. I wish I did and… well, I can’t leave this area of the palace at all. Besides, who could see me? You’re the first in months.”
“Surely, someone could see you?”
“No one has come over this area in a while.” The man shakes his head. “No one but them.” And the way he says them sends chills down her spine. “So why exactly should they help me, after all, they are the responsible for whatever this is.”
Her mind races, she needs to keep the man talking, the more he talks, the more information she can gather. “I must ask, is there a way to prove who you say you are? I want to believe you, but surely you can understand my position.”
The man nods, a look of resignation on his face. “I understand Lady Diana. And I hope you are prepared to thread carefully, these men are not people to trifle with. I made the mistake of underestimating them and now I’m here. And as to proof of who am I… well, I doubt that these bastards kept my family’s portraits around. But they don’t know about the one in this room. Look behind the fabric behind your headboard, the one that starts the canopy above the bed, there is a portrait of mine, I was younger then, but my face did not change much.”
She rushes towards the bed, and frantically pulls the at fine silk fabric. And there she finds it. A portrait of a teen boy who looks so much like the man she’s speaking to. She shivers, he’s not lying. She’s speaking to the actual King of Germania. “It’s you! You are not lying.” She sits, her head feels heavy and her world is spinning. “I don’t understand, but if I must navigate this, you need to tell me who they are.”
King Steven closes his eyes, silence falls on the room and she doesn’t push it. She lets the man take his time, it’s still early and she has no problem sleeping late if she must. She’s tired, she had been traveling to get to this place and now, she finds that she can’t sleep. This shadow or ghost has rattled her.
“The older man, is the wizard Ares.” Goosebumps raise once more on her arm. “The blond man? That’s Orm Marius. And they are sitting on my fucking throne.”
She feels her breath get caught on her throat. It couldn’t be, this shade must be lying. All the people who arrived at Themyscira said King Steven had thrown the invading army off. “How?” Her own voice is raspy to her ears.
“How? That I don’t know, someone must have betrayed us.” The man shrugs again. “Orm’s army had been defeated, at least that’s what we thought. Etta’s shields still stood firm. I was on my office two days after, checking a new law and I felt a hit to the back of my head and then, blackness.”
“Blackness.” She repeats.
“Next time I opened my eyes, I was this,” King Steven motions at himself. “And Orm was sitting quite comfortably on my own chamber. I tried to follow him, but every time I tried stepping outside of this wing, I would be pulled back. Etta is under an enchantment, that I can tell you, Ares spoke of it to Orm. And that’s all I know.”
“Assuming I believe you.” She starts and gather her courage, she knows there could be hell to pay if she were to anger this shade. He vibrates with power, even now. “How come you didn’t go to the great beyond and followed Hades’ call?”
“There was no call.”
No call? That simply couldn’t be. Hades had never been remiss as to abandon a soul, many rejected the call, but all the ghosts and shades she spoke to, they all had heard it. “How come a ghost did not hear the call, Hades would never leave a soul behind?” She wonders out loud.
Steven gives her a look. “I don't appreciate being called a liar, my Lady,” There is a harshness to his voice, but then Steven sighs, resignation written all over his face, “There was no call and… Lady Diana, I do not know what I am, how can you?”
And with that, he fades away and she all but falls into her bed in shock. And once more, she feels like someone pulled a rug from under her feet.
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kjack89 · 5 years
Note
Ok but now I need to know which of les amis would be most likely to use that footnote in an academic paper 🤣
So it depends on what the actual ‘yikes’ is in reference to. I’m assuming that it’s an opinion relevant to the topic of the paper but which reflects a viewpoint that the author of said paper considers problematic af (hence, y’know, yikes).
My initial thought was, of course, Combeferre, since when I think academia, I tend to, in general, associate it with Combeferre. HOWEVER, I think actually including it as a footnote is not something he would do; rather, I suspect he would do additional research to find dissenting authors and cite those authors extensively as counterpoints, probably just in the footnotes for his own edification (Something along the lines of, “Though Foucault’s argument is relevant in this instance, it is worth noting [insert eight other authors who are much better here]”. In other words, the academic equivalent of ‘yikes’).
I think Joly’s the most likely to actually use ‘yikes’ in a well-worded footnote. It strikes me as the kind of thing a man who ponders a cat as a corrective is likely to put in an academic paper.
Bossuet, of course, would include it as a parenthetical that he meant to delete before submitting. He, of course, forgets to do so.
Bahorel just straight up includes it, bolded and in all-caps, YIKES right after whatever he’s referencing.
Feuilly is auditing the class for free and therefore simply scribbles ‘yikes’ in his notes.
Jehan, ever the poet, wouldn’t include it at all, but would be sure that his citations surrounding that particular reference are an acrostic that spell out:
Yip, Moira (2002). Tone. Cambridge textbooks in linguistics. Cambridge University Press. pp. 1–4.
Ibid., pp. 130
Kiparsky, Paul (Summer 1973). “The Role of Linguistics in a Theory of Poetry”. Daedalus. 102(3): 231–44.
Etsuko Yanagibori. “Basho’s Haiku on the theme of Mt. Fuji”. The personal notebook of Etsuko Yanagibori. Archived from the original on 28 May 2007.
Sequeira, Isaac (1 June 1981). “The Mystique of the Mushaira”. The Journal of Popular Culture. 15(1): 1–8.
Courfeyrac would hold his nose, include the original reference, and symbolically burn his paper after submitting it.
Enjolras and Grantaire both don’t turn in the paper, for vastly different reasons. Enjolras protests the colonialist lens of the original assignment and refuses on principle. Grantaire only signed up for the class because Enjolras was, and, after the first week, stopped attending because he forgot he signed up for it. (He submits the assignment a week late after a Redbull and vodka fueled all-nighter. He still manages to get full credit. The professor includes a note that says “I can tell how much work you put into this!” Grantaire resolves never to let Enjolras see that.)
Marius doesn’t see what’s wrong with the original reference and uses it with no second thought.
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Note
How long will you be remembered after you die?
Claquesous: As long as people are afraid of the dark
Marius: As long as they remember I still owe them money 
Bahorel: I feel like I’m the cool and amazing character of a book, that’s always overlooked and forgotten in adaptations, so probably not remembered.
Cosette: Legacy…What is a legacy? It’s planting seeds in a garden you never get to see. With my life, I yearn for little but my own happiness and that of happiness for others, I don’t hold a desperate with for fame, but it’d be nice to make some impact. It’d be nice to be remembered for a long while after I die, so long as for worthy reasons. Therefore, I hope, I’ll be remembered for at least a few decades, if not more.
Eponine: Who knows? Hopefully I’ll be remembered by people who care about me, and for doing something good. I’d like to make a difference with the world, but I feel like most of us would say the same - we are part of an activism society after all.
Fantine: I hope I will be remembered by those who I knew and loved in life. 
Grantaire: Do people even remember me now?? i doubt my memory will last much longer than a week or so after my funeral.
Babet: Bold of you to assume that I can die.
Feuilly: Not long.
Enjolras: I don’t care about whether or not I’m remembered, what I care about is if what I did is remembered. What I was fighting for. And hopefully, that will be remembered for a long time.
Combeferre: There’s little point in dealing with hypotheticals and “what-ifs” when it comes to our actions. It only serves to take valuable time from us actually accomplishing something.
We cannot possibly know how long we will be remembered, and what’s more, we shouldn’t care. We shouldn’t live our lives in pursuit of individual remembrance, nor should we act for the shadow it may leave. We should live our lives and act because it is right, and good, and just. We should do this for one reason, above all, to be free.
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orthographewrites · 6 years
Note
💔 - marius and robin
THE MEME FOR PEOPLE WHO HATE HAPPINESS:
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My muse breaks your muse’s heart ( @alicemorganwrites )
When opening his front door, strangely enough, Marius was the last person he had hoped to lay his eyes on. His heart, that had formerly beaten with excitement each and every time he had caught sight of his boyfriend, now dropped to the floor by his feet like it had turned to stone in a moment’s notice. Robin’s lips attempted a smile that matched his known spirit but found himself faulty at best, and thus washed it off the second his head turned away from the other male – swallowing at the thought of his own actions. He was not in the mood to talk. Not to him. Not today. The mere idea filled his body with an unknown fear of being caught, of having done something illegal although such a fear had never existed within his mind before.
Allowing Marius entrance, it didn’t take long for his fears to become reality. “Is everything alright? You haven’t answered any of my texts since you came back home again, I’m getting worried.” His dark hues traveled along the hallway before they glued themselves onto Robin with a steadfast eye, curious entwined with a mix of utter worry as he stood there in a now silence waiting for Robin to proceed.
“Uh, yeah… no I’ve – I’ve been a little busy, sorry about that.” Busy was one way of phrasing it, in a figurative way perhaps but far from the reality he had faced these past couple of days. This, which had consisted more of him flopping back into bed and ignoring every piece of responsibility that would usually have enlightened his interests – feelings of guilt holding him down against the sheets as he continued to pretend time was an illusion and that no one would miss him for a couple of days.
“Didn’t answer my first question”, Marius was quick to point out.
“No.” Robin pondered a lie, something to get him out of the situation for just another day or two, until he could find a way to propose his mess of thoughts. He fell short. “Um, maybe we should sit down?” What else could he do? Sometimes it was for the better to pull off the bandage before it grew itself a society of microorganisms and fungus left to treat, and Marius wasn’t impossible to speak to – he just… wanted things to last a little longer. That was all. A few days. Was that selfish of him?
Marius didn’t answer, he simply nodded and allowed Robin to show the way, following behind with knitted eyebrows that spoke of truth and knowledge. Of knowing he had been right, but the equal fear of Robin’s soon took its rightful place among his features as it became more evident by the second that the topic about to arise wasn’t one to cheer and celebrate. “You can start when you feel like it.” What else could he say?
Robin stayed quiet for a good two minutes, shifting around on the couch to find some sort of acceptable position whilst his mind worked overtime to find a beginning to his tale. How did he discuss this without it sounding like an accusation? Without blame? To have it ache the least? Was there even a way? “Marius… I have met someone else.” There it was. The truth. Spiteful, untasteful truth. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what happened. He lives near our camp and volunteers on his days off work. He, uh, has a son of six years and – “, a sigh, loud and clear echoed between the living room walls. Marius was yet silent. “It feels like everyone are progressing around us, except you and I. Pia and Mike have a child now, Sofia has a family and got married last year – but we are stuck. We are going to turn forty next year, we have dated for three years and yet we haven’t even gone so far as to discuss moving in together.”
“I – I see. And this is where… this other man comes into the picture?” Marius voiced reeked of hesitation, his own body stiff as he shifted himself upwards.
“Yes. We didn’t think of it first, we just had a few drinks together but then I started talking. About things that I didn’t fully realize how much I wanted. I can’t  – I can’t think clear these days, all I can see is my own clock ticking further and further away. Fuck, I even realized I was full down and ready to give up traveling if that meant getting something more out of it.” By now, his heart and regained its place inside of his chest yet it still clung with a heavy knowledge as its beat offered no love, but pain for his surroundings and this situation he had promised himself would never happen with a partner of his. “He, well, expressed an equal devotion and said he had dreams of moving on – of finding a new partner and willing parent. He finally introduced me to his kid and before I was going home he – “ Robin pursed his lips, wanting nothing but to throw this all out the window and pretend it had never happened. His voice croaked as he exited the last piece of the puzzle, choking on the reality of what had become of a single meeting. “He asked me out and I nearly said yes.”
There was a beat of silence again. Something ill and foreboding where they sat as Marius processed the facts one by one. Eventually, his own thought rang through, low and unnerving. “And why haven’t you said anything? About how you want to, you know… all that.” He swallowed on his own, already possessing the answers but needing to hear them out loud.
Robin scoffed. “Don’t you think I haven’t tried? Marius, I tried a lot! When we were babysitting I tried to ask you if wanted something more stable of your own one day, you never answered. I tried to joke once about how it’d be if we lived together and you never seemed interested past it staying as a fiction of sorts. Not to mention all times you literally hushed me because you weren’t in the mood or didn’t have the time to talk right now. I – “ Robin’s jaw locked shut, feeling the hints of tears welling up as he broke away from the sight of Marius and placed it on the coffee table in front. “Honestly, sometimes I can’t say for sure if you’re just against the idea of growing stable in general, if you’re just scared of it somehow, or… if you are somehow against the idea of growing stable with me.” Marius was on his way to speak, but Robin shut him down with a glare. “I get it, okay, we have a long history and sometimes patterns can be hard to break. That is something you’ve shown signs off since the start but I can’t wait forever. I’m patient but I’m also not twenty-five with a whole life in front of me and I don’t want to reach the next stage in my life when I’m fucking fifty years old!”
Robin crossed his arms. Partly filled with relief and party filled with this still icky feeling of having done something bad and wrong. As a tear came breaking through at the corner of his eye he hurried to wipe it away, bracing himself for what seemed like the end of the world stuck in a vacuum of his home. “Well, do you have anything to say?” It was a faux stern, but it kept him in place.
Marius winced. “Hm… so what happens now?”
“Right…” It had been bold of his to even lightly assume Marius would come through and change his mind on the matter. “I don’t know yet. I’m confused.”
“How?”
“I don’t know what I want, that’s how. I haven’t stopped loving you and by the end of the day you give me so much, Marius. You – “, fuck another tear, this time impossible to hold back. “You have been with me since the start and perhaps a bit foolishly I hoped you’d be there until the end as well but… I don’t know. I just don’t know any longer. I feel like I need to try, see, where things will lead but I can’t do that while we are dating. I love you, I really do, but…” Robin shook his head, once again choking on his words – this time to force the topic to closure. His face found the safety of his hands, wishing to cover himself and the shame of his break-up from the man next to him. Of all the people he had dated, the one he had to break-up with was Marius. Oh, how ironic was that? They had given each other all, fought through indifference and found balance just for things to fall right back down on them.
And Marius knew this as he rose up from the couch. In any other instance, he would have stayed put, wrapped his arms around Robin until the situation calmed itself just as Robin would do him. However, he was suddenly struck with this understanding he no longer held the right to do so and at best another man was to take his place if Robin’s suggestions were to point in that direction. He had met someone with a child. Who wanted to grow as domestic as Robin wanted. Who worked with the same type of volunteer work as Robin did. A match made in heaven and as he stood there, he questioned what he, on his own, had to compete with. Because, by the end of the day, he had failed as a boyfriend. Failed to meet his partner halfway and consider his needs because of worries of his own. Thus, Marius left the apartment minutes later; his heart shattered into pieces, scattering about their relationship around the hallway of Robin’s home; and with his mind telling him it was rightfully so.
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kimmyiewrites · 6 years
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Until the Earth is Free ~ Chpt 4
Lizzie was told that she was to choose between Jacques or Raoul for her husband and Lizzie wanted neither of them, especially Raoul. She supposed she could possibly see herself with the Rousseau gentleman but she didn't want to marry because she had to. She wanted to marry because of love.
A week had passed since the ball and her two suitors would not leave her alone. She continuously used spending time with her friends as an excuse. There was one time Jacques got lucky. He spotted her in St. Michael's Square with les amis and knew that this was his moment to strike. Jacques bought a small bouquet of flowers and started to head towards where he had last seen her.
That was when he realized that he couldn't see her anymore. He turned this way and that trying to spot her but when that proved to be unsuccessful, he made his way towards the Elephant of Bastille. There he saw her crouched down speaking with an urchin boy. She looked concerned and he wondered why she would even care for someone below her, especially a child.
"Gavroche, what are you doing out here? Where's your sister?" Lizzie asked. She had seen the boy playing with the other children who called St. Michael their home while she was arguing with Marius about what their grandfather had sent them out to get. She ran after the boy, momentarily ending the argument about getting nicer dresses. She still wore simpler dresses and it infuriated Monsieur Pontmercy. Gavroche was one of the few reasons Lizzie continued to go to the Thenardier Inn. She enjoyed the company of the small boy and often gave him a franc or two from her earnings so he could properly eat.
Gavroche thought Lizzie more of an older sister than his own. He couldn't even comprehend how she and Eponine could be friends towards one another. What Gavroche didn't know was that Eponine made sure that her parents didn't completely con Lizzie out of what she was due. She wanted to make sure that her younger brother was taken care of and knew that Lizzie would be able to help after she witnessed an interaction between the two. Lizzie and Eponine planned how Lizzie was to make sure that Gavroche would take the money and be careful with it. Lizzie also looked out for Eponine, often times bringing older shawls and dresses for the other girl.
"She's probably with dear ol' dad conning people. They tossed me out, couldn't afford to take care of me no more. Only their precious baby girl. I'm fine, Lizzie, promise. They're my family now." He pointed towards the belly of the elephant statue where his friends had climbed up into it. "I hate that you had to leave but don't worry about me, mademoiselle, us little people are tough." He grinned.
Lizzie gave him a sad smile, she would always worry about him especially now that he was on the street. She reached into her small purse and pulled out a couple of francs. She tucked them into his jacket pocket. "Make sure you and your friends are fed. That should be enough to get a loaf of bread. Now, do you know where the apartments are near the park by the Seine that are about five blocks away? You can see Notre Dame from it and the university is about eight blocks north of it?"
Gavroche nodded.
"Good. If you ever need a place to stay dry or warm I want you to go there. My mother lives there on the second floor, the very first door once you come up the steps. Do you think you can remember all of that?" Lizzie asked, making herself a mental note to write her mother about the boy.
Once more Gavroche nodded. "Yes, Lizzie and thank you."
"You are most welcome." She then placed a kiss on his cheek causing him to beam up at her before running towards the statue that he called home.
Lizzie stood, smiling fondly after the boy and was just about to find her cousin when Jacques made his presence known. "I didn't realize I was going against a third party for your affections."
Lizzie spun around at his voice, startled. "Oh, monsieur, I hadn't realized you were there."
"I apologize, mademoiselle. I just couldn't help but to come over and at least say hello since your protectors are not right by your side as they usually are." He smirked as he held out the bouquet. "I saw these and knew they had to be yours. I also hoped that you would take a short walk with me since you seem to be alone."
Lizzie reluctantly took the flowers. They were beautiful and she knew he had been very lucky in the fact that he just so happened to have picked her favorite, lilies. "I really should be getting back to them you know."
He just waved off her comment. "It'll just be down to the Seine and back. They'll hardly notice your absence."
She knew there was no getting out of it so she sighed and agreed. He offered his arm and she looped her free hand through as he lead her down the path to the river. "So, who was that little boy you were talking to?"
"He was just someone I knew when I was living with my mother." Lizzie replied. There was no way that she was ever going to disclose that she used to sing in taverns to him, he would surely get the wrong idea and Lizzie was not about to be viewed as a whore.
"And are you secretly planning on becoming a nun?" He asked, with a slightly teasing tone but Lizzie knew whatever came out of his mouth next he was going to be absolutely serious and that scared her.
"No, why?" She reluctantly asked.
"Because only a nun would just give some urchin boy two francs."
Lizzie stopped right in her tracks. She stumbled only slightly because Jacques kept going a little bit before he realized that she had stopped. Lizzie pulled her arm away from his and looked at him with wide eyes. Her green eyes were sparkling like emeralds as she tried her best to think of something to say that wouldn't be thought of as too bold but she decided that she no longer cared about keeping up with pretenses. "You are an absolute disappointment Jacques Rousseau. I thought you would at least be understanding with a name like yours but you are a disgrace to the name Jean-Jacques Rousseau. We are not above the people who cannot afford to feed themselves. He is but a child trying to live the best life he can. What is two francs if it can feed a child or a group of five like those two francs I just gave will. Do not call on me anymore, Monsieur Rousseau and you can take your flowers back." She tossed the flowers at his chest and then spun on her heel, running back towards the square.
The first friendly face she saw was Grantaire and she ran right to him. He noticed her running and opened his arms up. She ran right into them, wrapping her arms around his waist and burying her face into his chest. "I found you!" He exclaimed, causing her to giggle slightly.
"Were you looking for me?"
"I wouldn't have just said I found you if I wasn't. We all were. Where did you go off to? We saw that boy you went to go say hello to run with a loaf of bread but you were nowhere in sight. Marius nearly had a cow."
"I'm sorry. That Rousseau gentleman found me and wouldn't let me be." She spit his name.
This caused Grantaire to worry. He pulled back, keeping his hands on her arms as he looked her over. "Are you all right? Did he hurt you?"
Lizzie shook her head. "No, nothing like that 'taire. He's just like all the others living in all of their splendor that they can't see past their own nose! He told me that I was wrong in giving Gavroche money for bread. He said that I would only do that if I were a nun! He's a part of the problem, part of the reason why France is falling and no one seems to even notice to help her up!"
Grantaire chuckled. "You have been spending too much time with Enjolras. Now, let's get back to the others so that they can know you are safe as well."
Lizzie rolled her eyes. "But 'taire..."
He shook his head as he placed her hand on his arm, leading her to where their friends were at last. "We're trying to figure out a solution but let's focus on one problem at a time shall we? Like a more tangible one, like the one where you now have to, I assume, only deal with the inspector's son?"
She groaned and laid her head against his shoulder. "Don't remind me."
"I have some wine back at my apartment. It sounds like you could use some. We could just wave to them and keep on walking."
That caused her to giggle. "No, I better go with Marius and pick out at least one new dress before going back home. How about a rain check?"
"I will take you up on that." They smiled at each other and soon Lizzie was ambushed by Marius, as he pulled her away from Grantaire into a hug.
"I was so worried." Marius said, squeezing her just a little too tight.
"I'm all right Marius. Now let me go, please so I can actually breathe." Lizzie ground out.
Marius pulled back, looking apologetic. "I'm sorry. Are you all right? Where did you go?"
"She got caught up with that Rousseau gentleman." Grantaire answered.
Marius glared over Lizzie's shoulder to his friend. "Thank you, Lizzie." He teased before looking back to his cousin.
"I'm all right, Marius. Rousseau is just not the person I thought so I will not be choosing him as planned. He's just a part of the problem. He's right awful." Lizzie said.
"Sounds like someone else we know, doesn't she? I think you've been filling her head with too many outlandish thoughts, Enjolras." Grantaire teased.
Enjolras rolled his eyes. "Oh will you shut up, Grantaire. She's one of the few of you who haven't really questioned my idea."
Grantaire crossed his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes. "We should get going anyway if Lizzie wants to find a decent dress to please her grandfather's wishes."
Lizzie nodded. "He's right. You can come if you wish but if you have more interesting things to do for the rest of the day, I will see you all soon."
Grantaire gave a soft smile to which Lizzie returned. Something else was going on. Lizzie could feel it and she wasn't quite sure what it was. She would have to talk with Marius once they were alone. Grantaire had sounded nearly disappointed when she spoke as passionately about their patria as Enjolras. Had he been hoping she didn't agree with the blonde? Was he hoping that she agreed with him? This was too much. Too much boy drama for one day so she stuck the thought in the deepest part of her mind to save it for later when she and her cousin were alone. Marius would know, surely he must since he had known everyone longer than she had. Now to just find a dress that wasn't too bourgeois but still fit her grandfather's standards. Like Grantaire said, one problem at a time and right now her dress issue had the most precedence.
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mr-eccentricist · 5 years
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Jas. M.H., I am most flattered and gratified that Marius and Hero talk to me as they do, and that they use similar terms of esteem and affection to those which I use for them: it tells me that I must be making a favourable impression on them. It is wonderful that you had such a friend as Anne, and I am sorry that you lost her. Do you still work at the museum? (1/3) — Eros.
(2/3) “Would” I have a pet? Are you asking if I would, hypothetically, volunteer to have a pet, or if I actually do have one already? … Congratulations on hosting such a successful party! I am glad it went so well. I presume that you are fond of clocks, if you have so many in your home. What, exactly, about them appeals to you? If, at some point, you were pleased to share photographs of your house, or even of your clocks only, I should like to see them.
(3/3) In particular I am curious about the epitaph above your bed. How gratifying it is that I have brought such merriment to you and the rest of the ‘Phantom’ cast! Let them think the joke began with you. But it is bold of you, Jas. M.H., to assume that I am not, in fact, among the cast – or crew – of the Whangarei Theatre Company. ;-) — Eros.
MY DEAR EROS - One has to wonder: are you capable of making anything but a favourable impression? In my estimation I’d say, most emphatically, “No, and d-mn the eyes, breeches, and duck pond of those who would say contrariwise”. Are you always so mellifluous when interacting with people?
I gave up my post at the museum; I was shifted from the Education department to Front of House to lend support the manager and administrator (the manager came to realise my talents extended well beyond that of an educator), and the face-to-face front line work proved too exhausting for me in the long run. I am a person of great energy, but constant social interaction is taxing. So I took up a position as a Public Servant instead, which is all I can say about my current employ (this may be the only topic I cannot openly discuss with you; we are discouraged from discussing our work lest we be found in breach of being politically neutral. The usual government department stuff, I’m afraid).
Ah! Yes, I did mean hypothetically, but now that I come to think of it I would like to better phrase that question: Do you have any pets yourself? Or, if that is too personal a question to answer, what pet or pets would you hypothetically consider having? I was given a peacock as a pet once; the rationale being that the peacock and I had a lot in common. Once we managed to catch the d-mned thing again (months later), we donated him to one of the wildlife parks. He was very popular, or so I was told.
Thank you! I’m very pleased it went well. I am an amateur horologist, and you are correct; I am very fond of clocks (specifically, mechanical clocks and timepieces). Clockwork has always fascinated me, and I find the ticking of clocks very relaxing. There is something about the assured, predictable, and inevitable announcement of ticking and tocking; of Time itself being haemorrhaged; the merciless and ceaseless march into the Forever Present… that’s, to my peculiar mind, reassuring and comforting. I will see what I can do about my clocks and my home. I may do a short video moving quickly through the house to better illustrate the cacophony of clockwork.
Epitaph? Oh, I’d forgotten I’d made mention of that earlier! Over time I have come to realise there are two errors in the Latin translation which I will need to have emended, but I will need to run the whole thing by someone who’s more conversant in Latin than those in my immediate vicinity. It’s a morbid joke, and one I’ll share with you once it’s corrected (if you’ll wait a little while for me to have the correct translation proofed and printed. Not speaking Latin myself makes the task difficult).
Now, now! Credit where credit’s due! Although I have mentioned that “Year Obituary Savant” originated with “a friend”, but ventured nothing more beyond this. Well I’ll be Godd-mned… I knew you to be an observant and perspicacious creature, but I never for a moment thought you’d… That is to say, I… Well I never.
They’re here; the Eros of the Opera.
As ever, I do remain,
Yr. Obt. Svt.,
James M.H.
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