Dreams of You (Are Always the Brightest) by Cordy-Echelon, literature
Literature
Dreams of You (Are Always the Brightest)
Grantaire tossed back another shot of whiskey. The alcohol burned down his throat and left a bitter taste in his mouth. He slammed the small glass onto the counter and demanded "Another round!" from the bartender.
"I think you've had enough, buddy."
Grantaire laughed. "Enough? I'll never have enough. There isn't enough in the whole world!" He laughed and laughed and laughed until he fell hard on the floor. "Ha! Oops. My bad." He tried to use the chair to drag himself back up, but he was too drunk. All of his movements were slow and choppy. "Maybe I'll just stay down here awhile," he conceded, slumping against hard chair legs.
"Look," the b
Pylades to his Orestes by Cordy-Echelon, literature
Literature
Pylades to his Orestes
What is there to believe in,
in this cold and heartless world
that takes and takes and takes and
never gives back?
The moon lords over the stars,
keeping them in place
allowing none to rise and
shine bright like they could.
But one star stands tall
and proud, looking over the
people of the earth, saving
them from the moon's cold tyranny.
The sun, the shining Apollo,
chases away the cold and
the dark in the souls of
angry, disillusioned men.
I who believed in nothing
would gladly die for my shining sun.
The Fall of Nisus and Euryalus by Cordy-Echelon, literature
Literature
The Fall of Nisus and Euryalus
The Café Musain was surrounded. The little band of twenty revolutionaries had no chance against hundreds of French soldiers. There was precious little time left for the resistance, who would all die for their beliefs that night. They had built a small barricade, but it was of no use against cannons and superior numbers. There would be no escape. French soldiers were closing in on all sides.
Grantaire woke up from a drunken stupor surrounded by the bodies of his friends. He hadn't wanted to fight this battle for a cause he didn't believe in. He knew they would be all on their own, the rest of Paris seemed content to sit behind their lo
Heartbeats in the Grey by Cordy-Echelon, literature
Literature
Heartbeats in the Grey
Marty opened his eyes to a world of grey.
"Hey, Marty!" he heard someone say nearby. "I told you it was all grey and shit, didn't I?"
He blinked a few times to clear his vision before sitting up. "Where am I?" he asked the voice.
"You're in the afterlife, man. Looks like Hanz was right and it does exist after all."
"Why am I in the afterlife?"
"You got yourself wacked." The man clapped him on the back. A hand came into view in front of him. "Come on, get up. There's some old friends who want to say hi to you."
Marty accepted the hand and hoisted himself off the ground. He stumbled a little at first, but quickly
regained his balance. "Bi
Merlin didn't have opportunities like this very often. "And when you're done with that, you can wash my clothes, polish my armor, and clean my room."
"Of course, sire," Arthur replied tensely from Merlin's body. "Is there anything else I can do for you, your most royal highness?"
"Actually, you could...." Before Merlin could finish his sentence, Arthur had dashed off around the corner. Merlin shrugged and turned back to Morgana, who was laughing at him. "You're really bad at being Arthur, you know."
"I know, I'm not going to fool anyone, am I?" Merlin sank down on Morgana's bed and buried his face in his hands. "Oh God." He stifled a sob.
221B Baker Street was always filled with noises and it drove John up the wall.
****
BANG! One of Sherlock's experiments blew up in his face. He rushed into the living room, blue covering the top half of his body. "It wasn't the mother-in-law!" he shouted in triumph. "I told Lestrade it wasn't, but of course the idiot didn't listen. It was the sister!" He rushed back out of the room, leaving John to roll his eyes at his back.
****
SCREECH! "No, no, no!" Sherlock shouted as he drew his bow haphazardly against the strings of his violin. "I haven't had a case in ages, John!" He collapsed onto the couch with a flourish. "I can't concentrate. I
"Oops," Merlin said in horror upon seeing the horror he had created.
"Who're you? Where's my regular nanny? I'm hungry!" A tiny Arthur demanded. "I don't like you. Are you an evil sorcerer? What...."
"All right, that's quite enough," Merlin stopped the incessant line of questioning and started pacing up and down the prince's chambers. "This is not good. Not good!" He had been trying out a new spell, one that would make the prince fall asleep, so he wouldn't have to deal with Arthur's needling as he did his chores. It was an innocent thing really. He just wanted some peace and quiet for a change. But Merlin must have messed up his pronunciat
Stiles sat down on the edge of the bathtub with a hard thunk. He stared blankly at the little stick in his hands. There was no way, NO WAY, that could bet the right result! Why had he even taken the stupid thing in the first place? He rested his head in his hand. There was no way he was pregnant! He whimpered.
"Stiles? What's wrong?" Derek asked as he burst into the bathroom. "Are you hurt?"
Stiles jolted to his feet and hid the stick behind his back. "Nothing's wrong. Why would you think something's wrong?"
Derek looked around to make sure there weren't any threats present. "I thought I heard you in pain."
"Nope, nothing to see
Dreams of You (Are Always the Brightest) by Cordy-Echelon, literature
Literature
Dreams of You (Are Always the Brightest)
Grantaire tossed back another shot of whiskey. The alcohol burned down his throat and left a bitter taste in his mouth. He slammed the small glass onto the counter and demanded "Another round!" from the bartender.
"I think you've had enough, buddy."
Grantaire laughed. "Enough? I'll never have enough. There isn't enough in the whole world!" He laughed and laughed and laughed until he fell hard on the floor. "Ha! Oops. My bad." He tried to use the chair to drag himself back up, but he was too drunk. All of his movements were slow and choppy. "Maybe I'll just stay down here awhile," he conceded, slumping against hard chair legs.
"Look," the b
Pylades to his Orestes by Cordy-Echelon, literature
Literature
Pylades to his Orestes
What is there to believe in,
in this cold and heartless world
that takes and takes and takes and
never gives back?
The moon lords over the stars,
keeping them in place
allowing none to rise and
shine bright like they could.
But one star stands tall
and proud, looking over the
people of the earth, saving
them from the moon's cold tyranny.
The sun, the shining Apollo,
chases away the cold and
the dark in the souls of
angry, disillusioned men.
I who believed in nothing
would gladly die for my shining sun.
The Fall of Nisus and Euryalus by Cordy-Echelon, literature
Literature
The Fall of Nisus and Euryalus
The Café Musain was surrounded. The little band of twenty revolutionaries had no chance against hundreds of French soldiers. There was precious little time left for the resistance, who would all die for their beliefs that night. They had built a small barricade, but it was of no use against cannons and superior numbers. There would be no escape. French soldiers were closing in on all sides.
Grantaire woke up from a drunken stupor surrounded by the bodies of his friends. He hadn't wanted to fight this battle for a cause he didn't believe in. He knew they would be all on their own, the rest of Paris seemed content to sit behind their lo
Heartbeats in the Grey by Cordy-Echelon, literature
Literature
Heartbeats in the Grey
Marty opened his eyes to a world of grey.
"Hey, Marty!" he heard someone say nearby. "I told you it was all grey and shit, didn't I?"
He blinked a few times to clear his vision before sitting up. "Where am I?" he asked the voice.
"You're in the afterlife, man. Looks like Hanz was right and it does exist after all."
"Why am I in the afterlife?"
"You got yourself wacked." The man clapped him on the back. A hand came into view in front of him. "Come on, get up. There's some old friends who want to say hi to you."
Marty accepted the hand and hoisted himself off the ground. He stumbled a little at first, but quickly
regained his balance. "Bi
Merlin didn't have opportunities like this very often. "And when you're done with that, you can wash my clothes, polish my armor, and clean my room."
"Of course, sire," Arthur replied tensely from Merlin's body. "Is there anything else I can do for you, your most royal highness?"
"Actually, you could...." Before Merlin could finish his sentence, Arthur had dashed off around the corner. Merlin shrugged and turned back to Morgana, who was laughing at him. "You're really bad at being Arthur, you know."
"I know, I'm not going to fool anyone, am I?" Merlin sank down on Morgana's bed and buried his face in his hands. "Oh God." He stifled a sob.
221B Baker Street was always filled with noises and it drove John up the wall.
****
BANG! One of Sherlock's experiments blew up in his face. He rushed into the living room, blue covering the top half of his body. "It wasn't the mother-in-law!" he shouted in triumph. "I told Lestrade it wasn't, but of course the idiot didn't listen. It was the sister!" He rushed back out of the room, leaving John to roll his eyes at his back.
****
SCREECH! "No, no, no!" Sherlock shouted as he drew his bow haphazardly against the strings of his violin. "I haven't had a case in ages, John!" He collapsed onto the couch with a flourish. "I can't concentrate. I
"Oops," Merlin said in horror upon seeing the horror he had created.
"Who're you? Where's my regular nanny? I'm hungry!" A tiny Arthur demanded. "I don't like you. Are you an evil sorcerer? What...."
"All right, that's quite enough," Merlin stopped the incessant line of questioning and started pacing up and down the prince's chambers. "This is not good. Not good!" He had been trying out a new spell, one that would make the prince fall asleep, so he wouldn't have to deal with Arthur's needling as he did his chores. It was an innocent thing really. He just wanted some peace and quiet for a change. But Merlin must have messed up his pronunciat
Stiles sat down on the edge of the bathtub with a hard thunk. He stared blankly at the little stick in his hands. There was no way, NO WAY, that could bet the right result! Why had he even taken the stupid thing in the first place? He rested his head in his hand. There was no way he was pregnant! He whimpered.
"Stiles? What's wrong?" Derek asked as he burst into the bathroom. "Are you hurt?"
Stiles jolted to his feet and hid the stick behind his back. "Nothing's wrong. Why would you think something's wrong?"
Derek looked around to make sure there weren't any threats present. "I thought I heard you in pain."
"Nope, nothing to see
When: May 17-19
Where: #femmeamisfest
What: A celebration of femininty and strength! There's been a lot of wank lately in the fandom. Feminine interpretations of Enjolras and Jehan are being hated and they are being called weak. This mini-festival is to showcase how femininity can also contain strength. The focus will be on Femme Enjolras and Jehan, but all Femme interpretations of Les Amis de l'ABC are welcome. There really aren't any rules, just no hating on feminine characters. Write fics, draw pictures, make graphics or gifsets or fanvids. Anything goes!
Ship Femmejolras and Femme Jehan!
Grantaire worshiping his feminine Apol