buddhistmamaduck:

is is so important to me that OFaPD wasn’t about Grantaire buying in to the revolutionary mindset or converting to republicanism or any real transformation in his beliefs. It was about him embracing his own beliefs and standing up for what was important to him.

Enjolras didn’t respect him for converting to Enjolras’ way of thinking, he respected him for committing as strongly to his own convictions as Enjolras did his. He saw the value in Grantaire’s values.

OFaPD was as much about Grantaire converting Enjolras as Enjolras converting Grantaire and that’s pretty integral to my understanding of the Brick as a whole

sprintingkoala:

Short exR fic, kinda angsty and shitty. Canon era, after the barricade w/ only Enj and R surviving. 

TW: Mention of self-harm

Insp. in part by @enjoloras fic Chasing a Ghost, def go read that, it’s incredible.

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Noise. Blood. Smoke. Suffocating smoke. He heard screams, gunshots, tasted iron and the copper tang of blood on his lips. Where were his friends? He could see nothing beyond an arms length away, bodies twisting and writhing in the fog and dirt. Voices. Pleading.

“Help”

“No!”

“Please”

Begging over and over and over until, one by one, they fell silent, their bodies collapsing at his feet, blank eyes staring up at him.

He was alone.

Enjolras awoke with a strangled scream, throwing the blankets off as he sat bolt upright in bed, gasping for air. He could still taste the smoke. Beside him, Grantaire stirred, raising himself half up on one elbow, looking at Enjolras through heavy-lidded eyes. He reached out, brushing Enjolras’ trembling wrist, then took his hand, pulling him against his chest, running his other hand through his boyfriend’s damp curls. 

“Shhh. It’s okay. It was just a dream. You’re safe. You’re home.” 

Grantaire repeated these words over and over, holding Enjolras’ shaking body close.  Enjolras relaxed slightly at the touch, but tensed up again immediately, turning away from Grantaire’s embrace and shaking his head.

“Don’t.”

Grantaire reached out for him, running a hand along his back.

“What is it?”

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Yes. I do.”

“It happens so often now, you shouldn’t care anymore.”

“I will always care.”

“Don’t pretend.”

“I am not pretending.”

Grantaire slid up the cuff of Enjolras’ shirt, running a finger over the scars on his wrist. “I can’t let this happen to you.”

“You would gladly kill me if you knew what I’ve done.”

“You could never, in a thousand years, do anything to make me hurt you.”

Enjolras pulled free of Grantaire’s grasp, turning to face him with tears in his eyes. “You don’t understand. I killed them. I killed them and I watched them die. I killed them as surely as if I’d held a gun to their heads. I’m the reason they’re gone. The reason for grieving sisters and widows. I’m a monster, Taire!”

His tone escalated through the sentence until he was screaming, tears streaming down his cheeks, hands blindly snatching at thin air as though it could bring his friends back. Grantaire reached for him, only to have his hand slapped away.

“Stop!” Enjolras wrapped his arms around his own heaving chest, rocking back and forth, trembling from head to toe. “I don’t deserve to have you hold me and tell me that I’m safe, you’re here for me. I don’t deserve your love!”

“Everyone deserves love, no matter what. You are my love, for life, and nothing will ever change that.”

Enjolras’ only response was to bury his head in his hands, fingernails digging into his forehead, a ring of angry red crescents marring his pale skin.

Grantaire waited, murmuring reasurences to the trembling figure, feeling more helpless than ever.

He reached out, hands brushing across Enjolras’ back. This time, he did not pull away. Grantaire slid across the bed to gather him in his arms, holding him tightly to him, stroking his back and hair. Enjolras turned towards him, burying his face in Grantaire’s chest.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“For this, for the mess that I am, for making you deal with me.”

“You are not making me do anything. I have chosen this, and would not trade it for the world. I love you, all of you, no matter what happens.”

“I should not be like this. I am weak.”

“Everyone is.”

“I can’t live like this, Taire.” Enjolras looked up at Grantaire, tears dripping down his face. “Will they ever go away?”

“I can’t promise they will. But I won’t either.”

Grantaire pulled Enjolras into a tighter embrace, clasping him against his chest until he could feel the other’s racing heart. He kissed the top of Enjolras’ head, stroking his hair and rocking him until he felt him relax and lean into him.

“You’ll stay with me?”

“Until you are sleeping.”

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