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making Victor Hugo turn in his grave since 1885


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The Les Mis Anon Kink Meme, Round 4
party like it's 1789
10littlebullets wrote in makinghugospin
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 new comments.


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Modern AU Cosette is a little off the wall with bright pink dip dyed hair and tattoos and bunch of ear and maybe a Monroe piercing, and everyone assume's she's going to be all rough and tumble but she's actual just a complete and utter sweetie.
(Frozen) (Thread)

All of those things would give Valjean a heart attack, oh my god.
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

Naaaaaw, I think he'd just be super happy that his little girl is comfortable expressing herself.
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

Eventually, sure, but I think that if she went out one day looking like his sweet, innocent daughter and came back looking radically made over he'd need a moment to adjust.
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

I neeeeeeed this. Like I need air.
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread) (Expand)

(no subject) (Anonymous) Expand
True, but something tells me if she went to him first he'd probably even help.
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

Fill part 1/4

(Anonymous)
This more concentrates on Cosette's transformation and her relationship with Valjean. Hope you like :)
_____


It started small, really, when she was only fifteen, when she still wore pastels and blue jeans, when she was still innocent and young and a child, really. She had come downstairs one day, poured herself a bowl of cereal, and, as she was taking the milk out of the refrigerator, turned to Valjean. “Papa, can I get my nose pierced?” she asked.

Valjean was more than slightly taken aback by her request. “Why?” he asked.

Cosette shrugged, pouring the milk in her bowl before handing to her father for his coffee. “I think it would look pretty. Please, can I?”

It didn’t take much more than her pleading blue eyes for him to agree. “As long as you’re sure,” he said, “and make sure you go to a clean place, I won’t have you dying of some strange blood disease.”

Cosette smiled and threw her arms around Valjean’s neck. “Thank you, Papa,” she whispered happily, before sitting back down for breakfast.

It was another few weeks before Valjean found a piercing parlor that he deemed acceptably clean and reputable, and a week after that when he finally got up the nerve to take her. He filled the permission form for minors as she examined the tiny studs. “What color should I get?” she asked, nearly breathless with excitement. “I think I’ll get blue. Definitely not pink or red, that might look like a zit.”

Valjean wasn’t really sure what color was best, but he nodded. “I think blue would look lovely with your eyes,” he offered.

“But perhaps clear? So it wouldn’t clash with my clothes?” she wondered, and Valjean couldn’t really offer anything but a smile.

“Whatever you want,” he said.

“Blue.” Cosette decided firmly, and then sat on the bench to look through the books of tattoos that had been done, as Valjean sent up a silent prayer that she wouldn’t ask for one of those.

The artist was a large woman named Katie, covered in tattoos and with more metal in her ear than Valjean thought possible. She cleaned Cosette’s nose carefully, chattering away kindly as Cosette clenched and unclenched her hands nervously, the bright smile never leaving her face.

“So, do you plan on any more piercings?” she asked, taking a fresh needle from a sealed package.

Valjean crossed his fingers behind his back. Cosette laughed nervously. “I think so. If my Papa will let me.”

Katie turned to Valjean. “So, what you say, Pops?”

Valjean rubbed his forehead. “We’ll talk about this later.”

Cosette looked like she was going to say something, but then Katie had the needle ready, and she shut up quickly, holding perfectly still as Katie held the needle to her nose.

And then Cosette let out a little squeak and blood dripped out her nose, and Katie laughed and handed her a damp paper towel and a sheet about proper piercing care and sent her on her way.

Whatever feelings Valjean had about the little stud in her nose were cancelled out by the glow in Cosette’s eyes.
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

Fill part 2/4

(Anonymous)
Valjean had secretly, or perhaps, not so secretly, hoped that the nose stud would be the last of it. It wasn’t that he objected to it, but he could do without his beloved daughter turning into some sort of punk pincushion.

Six months later, though, Cosette came to him, hands behind her back, an innocent smile on her face. “Papa,” she began, “I was wondering if, perhaps, when you have a day you aren’t too busy, you could take me down to get my ears pierced?”

Cosette had a small hoop in each lobe, to match the nose ring Valjean had gotten her for her sixteenth birthday the previous month. “Your ears are already pierced,” he said, turning back to the morning paper.

Cosette sighed. “I want more piercings, I’ve only got two. Tons of girls have more than this.”

“What would you do if I said no?” Valjean asked, even though he could guess the answer.

Cosette glared at him. “Why would you say no?” she asked, her lower lip sticking out slightly. She had recently started painting her lips a darker shade of red; finally abandoning the ancient tube of pale pink gloss Valjean had bought her for her fourteenth birthday.

“Because I’m your father, and I don’t have to let you get pierced all over. You are my daughter, and—”

“Papa,” Cosette said, angrily, “I am not a little girl anymore.”

It was true, Valjean knew it was true. She was growing up and growing away and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do. He felt a lump in his throat. “I know, dearest. You’re getting to be an independent young woman, and you won’t need your father to tell you what to do much longer.”

The anger drained from Cosette’s eyes. “Oh, Papa, that isn’t what I meant. I’m always going to be your Cosette, I just want to be my Cosette too. Getting a few more piercings doesn’t mean I won’t love you anymore, it just means I’ll love me more.”

Valjean held out his arms, and Cosette threw herself into his embrace. “I have a day off next Friday,” he said quietly. “I’ll write you a note, and we can make an appointment at the parlor.”

Cosette pulled away, beaming. “And then can we go out to lunch? We haven’t done that in a while.”

Valjean nodded. “Anywhere you want.”

_____

That summer, Valjean began a relationship with Javert, a police inspector. It was strange for Cosette, he was sure, but Javert was a good man, and Valjean had been lonely.

He was slightly worried when Cosette came into his office, looking nervous. “Is everything alright?” he asked, and Cosette nodded.

“I was wondering if I could dye my hair,” she asked. “It’s summer, and if I don’t use permanent dye, it will wash out before school starts, and I think it would be nice and fun and—”

“Do you want to get it done professionally?” Valjean cut her off, before he noticed the plastic bag in her hand. “Is that what I think it is?” he asked, gesturing.

Cosette nodded, looking ashamed, and pulled out a box with a picture of a girl and a boy with shockingly pink hair. “I was wondering if you could help,” she asked. “I mean, if you aren’t too busy, I just miss hanging out with you.”

Valjean nodded and looked at the box. Poison Pink. Lovely. “I have no idea how to do this,” he said.

Cosette laughed. “That makes two of us.”

A few hours, a ruined bathrobe, and a near meltdown later, and Cosette had bright pink hair ends, ears, and spots on her neck, and the entire house stunk of ammonia. “Well, I’d say that was fairly successful,” Cosette said cheerily.

Valjean did not offer his opinion on the color, or what his personal opinions on her hair were. “Maybe next time we can do it professionally,” he said.
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

Fill part 3/4

(Anonymous)
Javert did a double take when he picked Valjean up to go to dinner that night, but he didn’t say anything.

_____

By the end of the summer, Cosette’s hair tips had changed to teal, and though she claimed she didn’t notice it was permanent dye, Valjean knew her well enough to know it was completely on purpose. He didn’t take her up on her token offer to bleach it back to blonde for school, just sighed and said as long as she didn’t get into trouble, she could keep it.

Cosette beamed and promised that she’d be sweet as sugar, and somehow managed to beg his credit card off of him to buy herself clothes for the new year.

Valjean didn’t mind, not really. After the laughter and pointed looks he had endured trying to buy Cosette her first bra, he had decided that some things were best when he was left strictly out of them.

He definitely reconsidered his stance on helping her pick her clothes when Cosette returned, carrying bags full of tight black pants and leather jackets and bright colored shirts that hung off her shoulders and boots that had studs on them, of all things.

She looked harsh and rebellious and violent and nothing at all like his daughter, and he practically wanted to cry and demand she wipe off the black caking her eyelids and overpowering their soft blue, to change back into something that didn’t allow him to see her blaze orange bra straps.

But then she smiled at him, warm as ever, and asked excitedly what he thought and twirled, so her hair spun about her and he forced a smile on her face and said she looked beautiful, no matter what she was wearing.

“Am I a terrible father?” he asked Javert, as they lay in bed that night. “For letting her dress that way. I mean, I swear, I think she’ll be arrested just for looking suspicious. And the boys! She’ll have boys chasing her, thinking she’s an easy target, and…” he trailed off. “I’m failing her.”

“She can’t get arrested for dressing like that,” Javert pointed out, practically, “and whatever I think of how she dresses, she is a good kid. God knows we’ve arrested plenty of well dressed rich kids who wouldn’t dare to let them leave the house looking like that.”

“You think she’ll be alright?” Valjean asked.

“She will,” Javert responded. “Now go to bed and stop worrying about your daughter. She’ll be fine.”

_____

By the time Cosette turned eighteen, her hair was perpetually one color or another, a ring had been added to her eyebrow, and her lip was pierced as well. Valjean had become accustomed to her outfits and makeup, and Javert never complained about her either.

But on the day after her birthday, when she came home with a small tattoo of a bird, he nearly had a heart attack.

He probably overreacted. No, he definitely did. But hair would grow out and clothes could be changed, and there weren’t a lot of ways to remove a tattoo.

Cosette was crying, and Valjean was pacing angrily, considering crying himself.

“I sincerely hope that you’ve read about how to take care of that,” he hissed, and Cosette nodded, wiping at her eyes, before launching into a new round of sobs that sent black tracks down her pale cheeks.

She looked tiny, pathetically small, and her makeup smudges were giving her the look of a particularly pitiful raccoon. “Why didn’t you ask me first?” he demanded, “I know you don’t have to listen to me anymore, but for god’s sake, what possessed you to just run out and get this? Did you even think about it?”

Cosette nodded again. “It’s for Fantine,” she said, because she never called Fantine her mother, because she barely remembered her at all. “I remember her singing to me when I was little, and I wanted to get this. For her.” She buried her face in her hand. “I didn’t want you to forbid me from getting it,” she said, sniffing.

Valjean sighed. “I know you’re an adult now, and I don’t have any authority over you, but I am still your father,” he said.

“I know,” Cosette whispered. “I’m sorry, Papa.”

Valjean put his arm around her awkwardly. “Next time, I’m going with you.”

Cosette sat up. “Next time?” she asked, confused.
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

Fill part 4/5

(Anonymous)
Valjean probably shouldn’t have said that, but right now was not the time to try and save Cosette’s skin, because some things were more important than that. “If you get another tattoo,” he said, silently praying that all she wanted was the one, “I want to go with you.”

Cosette’s eyes widened, and then she buried her face in Valjean’s shoulder, probably staining it with her blackened tears. “I love you,” she said, her voice muffled. “And I’m still your little Cosette.”

Valjean wrapped his arms around his daughter. “It is pretty, I guess,” he said. “For a tattoo. Just…don’t surprise me like that again, okay?”

Cosette nodded, her face still pressed against his shoulder. “I promise.”
____

Cosette went to college in the fall, packed away her leather and denim and spikes and colors and extensive amounts of makeup, and moved in to a new house, a new life, a new world.

She got her next tattoo during her first visit back home, a complex, abstract, winding piece. “My friend Grantaire designed it,” she said, showing Valjean the sketch. “He did it for free.”

It was a very impressive piece for a free picture. “Are you sure this is a good idea?” he asked doubtfully, looking at Cosette’s delicate arm.

“You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, but I’m doing this,” Cosette said, firmly, so Valjean went, and talked to her while the needle went in and out, permanently altering her skin, and he wanted to leave, but he couldn’t let her down, and when it was finished, he was forced to admit that it was actually quite beautiful.

After that, practically every break, she returned with a new design, and soon her left arm was covered and her right not far behind, and maybe Valjean would have objected, but as long as he remembered that tattoos only went a few millimeters deep, and that they couldn’t touch what was really inside of her, he would be fine.

_____

Javert moved in with Valjean officially at the start of Cosette’s first year in college, and then one day well into her sophomore year, Valjean looked at the calloused hands that sat on the table across from him and decided that they would look better with a ring on them.

“Javert and I are getting married,” Valjean said, over the phone one night, as Cosette painted her nails. “Nothing much, but obviously you should be their.”

Cosette squealed with delight, and promised to be down. “I’ll see if Marius can drive me,” she said.

Valjean did not want Marius to drive Cosette. Valjean would prefer it if Marius just stayed away from Cosette. “How about someone else?” he asked.

He could practically hear her eye roll. “Papa, he’s nice. And we’re just friends. For now. Besides, he thinks I’m pretty.”

“Well, as reassuring as it is to hear that he has functioning eyes, I don’t think he needs to be down here,” Valjean said.

They went back and forth over it for a while, and in the end, it was Eponine who gave Cosette the ride down when the time came.

Valjean was stunned to see his daughter with completely blonde hair and just a thin line around her eyes, wearing a white shirt and a pale pink. “What happened,” he asked.

“I dyed my hair back to blonde,” Cosette said, “I don’t want to ruin your wedding photos. I’ll put it straight back when it’s done. And I borrowed the clothes from my friend, I thought you’d like it if I look like the good daughter I am for once.” She laughed lightly. “I can take the piercings out for pictures, if you like, but some of them will close up fast, so I should leave them in for the ceremony.”
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

Fill part 5/5

(Anonymous)
She didn’t look like the good daughter she was. She looked like a stranger; she looked like someone had sapped the color from her, sucked it out with a straw, leaving only a shell of who she really was.

It was easy to find Pink Poison hair dye. It was significantly harder to look dignified when buying it.

Valjean handed the box to her when he got home. She was sitting, talking with Javert at the dining room table. “I hope you brought some of your clothes with you,” he said.

Cosette looked at the box, then back at him. “But—”

“If you’d rather have another color, I can get it for you, but I know that you—”

Cosette cut him off with a hug. “Are you sure you want me in your wedding photos looking like this? I mean, you only get one wedding.”

“It’s not your job to dress to make him happy,” Javert pointed out, even though he probably would give Valjean a talking to about the hair dye.

“He’s right,” Valjean said, “it’s your job to make yourself happy, and it’s my job to love you unconditionally. No matter what choices you make.”

Cosette hugged him. “I actually am dating Marius,” she admitted.

“I said I love you unconditionally,” Valjean said. “Your stupid boyfriend, on the other hand…”

“Papa…” Cosette started, a warning in her voice.

“Fine,” Valjean said. “I’ll get used to it. I’ve had a lot of practice.”

Cosette threw her arms around him again, and Javert touched the small of his back comfortingly, and really, this was all he needed.
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Fill part 5/5

(Anonymous)
Omg adorable

I adore your long suffering jean

andd stoic Javert in the background
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

I really like your modern AU Cosette, she didn't seem out of character and Valjean is just Valjean, loving father and troubled about everything concering his little girl.

Lovely fill!!!
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Fill part 5/5

(Anonymous)
This was precious, oh my god. I love how you wrote Cosette, and how understanding Javert was. And Valjean's POV was just perfect! Come here and let me snuggle you (unless you don't like snuggles and then I will bake you a million cookies)
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

Re: Fill part 5/5

(Anonymous)
Aww, this is adorable, I love it! ♥ ♥
(Frozen) (Parent) (Thread)

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