#apollobred

[icarusbred-a]

;; @apollobred

Grantaire’s stomach churned. Like the ocean rocking back and forth, deep in his gut. It echoed in his head, sliding down his throat where his mouth was too dry and too sweet. His cheekbone ached. If his brain were more clear he might wonder if under that swollen bruise, spreading across his skin in deep hues and smeared blood, a crack blossomed in the bone. 

The sun cast the world in a golden shade, setting upon his beautiful city. It was worthy of a painting if he were not so terribly useless. With hands shaking, twitching. He could not even paint with the blood caked on his fingers, for it was dry and flaking. No, Grantaire could do nothing but rock pitifully against the stone wall of the alley he’d crawled into at some point. He couldn’t remember, and his head ached too much to try. 

Everything was swimming, and days had passed in darkness. Not that he was aware of this. All he knew was that an ocean rocked in his stomach.

[icarusbred-a]

@apollobred

From the sidewalk he can still hear the pounding of the bass . The red plastic cup in his hands is nearly empty again , and his mind is fogged with the effects of a few too many . Grantaire had come out to enjoy himself . Instead he found himself instead ... on the sidewalk in the warm summer air . Thumb tracing over the curling letters of his last words tattooed on the inside of his wrist .  permets-tu? 

He raises his hand to press against his chest , the texture of soft fabric and paint stains of his old green hoodie comforting . Except his mind is elsewhere and tracing the lines between three birthmarks . Three bullet wounds . Then like clockwork , with eyes staring off into the distance , his thumb returns to tracing along the curving letters . With each pass his mind sinks deeper into old memories . Like a fog , brightened only by a figure with sharp blue eyes and golden hair that glows like a halo when the sunlight hit it just right . “ My apollo ...  ” The words are a quiet sigh , and there are tears welling up in his eyes that he doesn’t feel . 

All of a sudden a sound startles him , dragging him back from his memories as the first tear streaks down his cheek . The cup by his foot is knocked over and spills beer out onto the street . Grantaire swallows hard as he looks over , eyes landing on a pair of boots .

[camaradcrie]

@apollobred​ asked →  ♡ ♥ ✿ ❦ 

Tell me what you like BEST about my writing!

♡: Your narration

♥: Your dialogue

✿: Your characterization

❦: Your details

Oh this is so sweet, thank you! I definitely am not the best writer in the world but I’m glad that my efforts pay off somewhere. 

[hommesdechires]

A moment of weakness - Apollobred

12. My muse is kidnapped and yours has just rescued them. @apollobred

Grantaire trembled behind the blindfold.

Days of not being fed, hit for no reason, the sounds coming from every direction, if he could only tell what it was, what they wanted—

Now he felt hands upon him, removing unnecessary manacles, reaching for the blindfold across his face. It was all he could do not to scream.

“Don’t touch me.”

[loyaliist]

they mistook my kindness for weakness. - Apollobred

norman fucking rockwell! starters.  || @apollobred

         ❝ Round here they’re seen as the same thing. ❞ Arthur wasn’t saying he agreed with the notion, with the group of people he associated with, he knew a good act could get someone a long way. Whether that kindness was feigned or not, it never meant someone was weak.

         Flicking his cigarette into the dirt, he offers a small shrug. ❝ Gives you somethin’ I don’t have. I look like a mean bastard, but you… you got some surprise in ya. Useful, you ask me. ❞

[hommesdechires]

Δ - For Grantaire, Apollobred

@apollobred | Δ = playing with their hair . 

Grantaire did not often allow himself to be touched. If even the man closest to him caught him off guard, he would start and shut himself off, avoiding any kind of contact for the rest of the day. But when he allowed it...

Grantaire could almost be described as a cat. He adored having his hair touched. If you did not believe that a grown man could purr, you had not seen the man in his current position, curled on the couch, head in Enjolras’ lap, with his fingers threading through his hair. He was at peace.

“‘S nice, Apollo...”

[icarusbred-a]

❝ what the fuck did you just say to me you little bitch ? ❞ - Apollobred, not direct at R but overheard

;; it’s meme time (accepting) // @apollobred​

Despite being deep in conversation with Joly and Bossuet over the intricacies of pizza rolls , the words that left his darling Apollo’s lips found him . They left him reeling . From his lips his drink spilled as he spluttered , wine falling in fat drips onto his lap . Grantaire stopped , and spun around . Mouth hanging open and searching for the sorry bastard who dared to offend Enjolras on such a level . All he found was him laughing with Courfeyrac and Combeferre . 

That is when it dawns upon him , Enjolras was messing around . He’s quoting a meme .  A choked wheeze leaves him as he crumples to the floor already laughing so hard that is came out noiseless , save for the rare wheeze of him fighting to breath . A hand clutched at his chest while the other attempted to support himself on the floor . Joly immediately went into a panic over his friend , dropping beside him . Bossuet not falling to the fear that Grantaire was having a stroke , understanding that he was laughing in the way R did , found great humor in the scene and pounded the table with a fist as he burst out cackling as well . 

“ How dare you laugh Bossuet ! Enjolras cursing has given him a heart attack ! ”

[icarusbred-a]

Grantaire is a child of mixed species , a kelpie and some kind of spectral hound . A shuck or barghest perhaps . He’s been around the school for a good fifty years at this point , and enjoys messing with the students . As of recently he’s become a member of a club known as Les Amis de l’ABC . None of the other members are sure where he came from . He doesn’t really do much , and seems to enjoy heckling the leader .

Grantaire has mistaken Enjolras as fae royalty , and this is the original reason he stays around .