The Les Mis Anon Kink Meme, Round 4
Since LJ seems to have finally capitulated to the Russian government and is now subject to Russian anti-obscenity laws, I'm not going to take a chance on sudden deletions. The Les Mis kinkmeme now lives at https://lesmiskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/. (Round 4 here.) Everything has been backed up there. The LJ kinkmeme will stay up, but is now closed to
( Read more... )
"Mercy," he'd begged. "Please. It's just a little thing. I didn't know."
"A little thing, is it?" Grantaire had mused, and grinned, knowing the flash of his monstrous fangs would be no comfort. "You would take my Rose from me. And what chosette, what little thing, shall I pluck from you in return?"
Everyone knew the man's daughter was named Cosette, just as everyone knew that the mad beast in the house on the hill talked to his cutlery and his furniture and his plants as though they were living people. It had been a joke.
It had been hilarious. It was hardly Grantaire's fault that the townspeople had lost their sense of humor in the years since he'd been cursed.
Valjean had grown pale with horror, and stammered, "My Cosette? No- No, please, she's an innocent girl! Take me instead, it was I who did you wrong. Please, she's a child, and it was just a flower. She doesn't deserve this."
And Grantaire had sighed, abruptly too weary for this man and his appeals to whatever sense of mercy or justice Grantaire might have left. He snarled at Valjean, to frighten him into obedience, and bid him go home, and then he'd dragged himself out of the gardens and into his home, and reached for the first bottle of wine he came upon, and drank until all was forgotten.
He had not counted on Enjolras.
***
The brass knocker on Grantaire's front door pealed like the tolling of a church bell, jolting Grantaire from oblivion and threatening to split his skull in two. He threw himself out of the armchair he'd passed out in and staggered to the door, clutching at either side of his head, snarling, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
The knocking didn't stop until he reached the front door, grappled with the handle, and tore it open. The morning sun streamed in through his doorway, bright as fire and just as agonizing. Grantaire spun away, snarling, and threw an arm over his eyes.
Behind him, a bold voice called out, "I have come to address the grievous injustice you mean to perpetrate upon M. Valjean and his daughter, Beast."
Grantaire lowered his arm and looked back over his shoulder. The sun stung his eyes and made them water, and all he could make out of the man was a silhouette, framed by blinding rays of the rising sun. "Who the devil are you?"
The figure stepped across the threshold and strode into Grantaire's home as though it were his right to be there. He stood with his feet planted, his hands balled, his golden hair just as bright as the sun and his eyes snapping fire as he glared at Grantaire. "I am Enjolras, and I am here to demand that you release M. Valjean from his debt at once."
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment