LINKDING

<blockquote>Five encounters across the years.</blockquote> ➤ author's note: <blockquote>For melannen, whom I blame entirely for the realization that Enjolras is completely Methos's type, even though I've long ago lost the documentation of this. </blockquote> ➤ TRUTH.

<blockquote>oilan and i are very proud to present a belated barricade day collaboration that we hope will really illuminate an important facet of the text.</blockquote> ➤ in other words: butts

<blockquote>Enjolras and Feuilly, on the moon as anywhere else, have certain preoccupations.</blockquote> ➤ lunar base au continues

<blockquote>chirabella asked: Marius & Enjolras, bodyswap.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Enjolras sighed, and tugged at the lacy hem of the apron with two fingers, as if it was some strange foreign object from which he feared contamination. “This costume will not fool anyone. I did grow up in the country,” he said. “I know what a milkmaid looks like. It’s nothing like this.”</blockquote> ➤ with art by nisie

<blockquote>"This man belongs to you," Enjolras said. "That’s…..not really what I meant," Valjean said.</blockquote> ➤ I wish this fic was a million words

<blockquote>Enjolras with a problem that only Musichetta would know how to deal with.</blockquote>

<blockquote>"How heartless you are, Combeferre. Yes, as a matter of fact. I am broken-hearted and despondent, and it is your duty as dear friends to cheer me up." Courfeyrac shifted the stack of pamphlets resting beside Enjolras to the floor, so that he could drape himself dramatically across the sofa without crumpling them. Enjolras placidly lifted the pamphlet in his hand out of the way of Courfeyrac’s head, as it landed in his lap. "I insist that you entertain me."</blockquote>

<blockquote>Four scenes from after the revolution succeeds.</blockquote>

<blockquote>“Its creator calls it a gas vacuum engine,” said Combeferre over the hellish noise, pronouncing the English words with a certain meticulousness, “though I think this one in particular ought to do more vacuuming." In which Enjolras learns the perils of having a polymath for a roommate, and Sadi Carnot invites himself along for the ride.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Combeferre only wanted the foot.  “I’m sorry, Joly, I really am, but I don’t need another leg.  I don’t have room for another leg.  I told you you could have shared with me when I got one last week.”</blockquote> ➤ med student hijinks with dismembered body parts!

➤ the one at Xavier's school where Enjolras can bewitch people with his voice so can't talk to anybody because he doesn't have control over his powers, and Combeferre is telepathic. CUE BEING ABLE TO TALK TO EACH OTHER WITHOUT DANGER.

<blockquote>enjolras, in the parlor, with a gun.</blockquote> ➤ or: combeferre is left a pair of pistols by a professor of his after the professor's passing

<blockquote>Bahorel has seen everything there is to see in Paris, but he's never seen this. Featuring Enjolras, his glowing revolutionary hair, and Bahorel.</blockquote> ➤ this is greattt and then ACK THAT LAST LINE OUCH

<blockquote>Combeferre sighed, and Feuilly smiled politely, but Enjolras remained impassive. This annoyed Courfeyrac. To goad Enjolras, with a well-placed pun, into a display of temper, was always a pleasure; to win a smile from him was a small but thrilling conquest, a prize that Courfeyrac could quietly clutch to his heart and gloat over for weeks afterwards. But to be ignored! That was an insult of the most insufferable variety, and Courfeyrac resolved not to brook it for one instant longer. He would make Enjolras laugh—or shout—or pay him some sort of tribute, this evening, or he would go home a failure.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Courfeyrac pouts about writing to his parents and goes to Enjolras and Combeferre for sympathy.</blockquote>

<blockquote>After the fall of the barricades, Enjolras' mother finds a series of letters her late son wrote to a mysterious R. It was curious, Adélaïde thought, how little she had known of her only child. Though perhaps curious was not the right word. Standing in the small, cramped room she had not known her son had rented, surrounded by books and pamphlets she had not known he had cared to read, she reached out and touched the strange little bundle of letters on his desk and wondered what further secrets they might reveal.</blockquote>

<blockquote>This is it, my first ever fic. Written for Les Mis Across History, set in the Western front of World War I, also a kind of “apology” for sending the E/C zeppelin into angst-land.</blockquote> ➤ the Christmas Truce of 1914

<blockquote>Enjolras mocks my commitment to the cause, after that Enjolras's pushing a pistol into my mouth and saying, the first step to overthrowing the social order is you have to sacrifice.</blockquote>

<blockquote>AU, 1794. Enjolras and Combeferre, trying to navigate the turmoil of the French Revolution side-by-side, find themselves struggling to reconcile their views of the Terror. Any misstep in such a time could be fatal, and each feels the strain of conflicting ideas on their friendship.   "I do not want you to become one of those innocents who, despite the best efforts of the terror to remain just, are considered counterrevolutionary and pay the price.” Combeferre met his eyes. “Yet if my death is one of those which would bring about the future of the Republic?”</blockquote>

<blockquote>In which Jehan abuses Rousseauian concepts, Courfeyrac argues with him about the state of nature as opposed to progress, and Enjolras is bemused but lacks any concern about his hair.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Enjolras hurried into the study, alarmed, for Combeferre did not often shout. “What is it?” he asked as he entered, but any worry was dissolved at once upon seeing Combeferre’s face. He was beaming, grinning like a child, explosive with happiness. Combeferre. Enjolras. Friendship. Hieroglyphics.</blockquote>

<blockquote>Grantaire is accidentally deeply cruel, Eponine and Enjolras interact, and pretty much everyone goes home miserable.</blockquote>

<blockquote>once upon a time there was a man named combeferre. he was not actually named combeferre, though, for that would be a silly name. “but that is my name,” combferre interrupted the narrator, looking up from his book. he sat alone in the back room of the musain while his friends did cool things without him. ”that’s not true. and why are you narrating my actions?” </blockquote>

<blockquote>r jests about e’s death and suggests that he best be contacting studios to commission a sarcophagi. in death, e will be resurrected for the princely collections, the interest of antiquaries, and the verdict of classicists</blockquote>

<blockquote>Enjolras is injured. Combeferre gives him laudanum and ends up somewhat surprised at the results.</blockquote>

<blockquote>March 1830. Combeferre prepares to go to the theatre; Enjolras explains both immediate and deeper reasons why he cannot join him. Uses a quote from St. Augustine.</blockquote> ➤ ("Total abstinence is easier than perfect moderation.")

<blockquote>I think want I most want out of this version is Enjolras and bb!Vetinari being VERY INTENSE at each other about politics in Snapcase's Ankh-Morpork, and then not having any sex at all. Ever. (I actually have had all sorts of THOUGHTS about the political philosophies underlying much of Discworld for a long time, it kind of needs an Enjolras to be intensely republican about it, so much.) Meanwhile, wizzard!Grantaire tries to pick up Young Vimes at a tavern, but ends up just getting him very drunk while listening to him rant about his love for his bitch of a City, and begins to suspect he has a Type.</blockquote>

<blockquote>A useful reference list by Les Amis de l'ABC.</blockquote>

<blockquote>This wins the award for One I Most Wish There Was a Bunch More Of! C'mon, Javert's a Sentinel, Silent and Sure! And somebody really really needs to write the one where Combeferre's the Guide of the Amis! It's practically canon.</blockquote>