#gruvies

[hrtached]

        melancholic  air  falls  over  them ,    on  the  anniversary  of  their  mother’s  death ,    year  after  year  it  was  the  same .    aquata  was  there  to  console  their  sisters  while  andrina  preferred  to  lock  herself  away ,    to  both  figuratively  and    literally    run  away  from  her  problems  to  the  best  of  her  ability .    it  had  been  working  well  for  her  thus  far ,    but  this  year    felt  different .      ❝    if  you    need  me ,    won't  you    let  me  know ?    ❞      andi  sighs ,    exhale  exaggerated  with  the  flaring  of  her  nostrils .    it’s  hard  for  her  to  admit  that  she’s  in  the  wrong ,    that  she’s  made  mistakes .   she  continues  quietly ,      ❝    sometimes  i’m  not    the  best    with  being  responsible    (  .  .  .  )    but  i’m  trying  my  best .    ❞

        ﹠ ﹔  @gruvies​​​​​ :    andrina  and  aquata .    —     starter  call.                        ↳    (  now  playing    .  .  .  )    2008  by  cleopatrick

[hallowburnta]

         “   do   you   think   he   meant   it?   when   he   said   he   didn’t   hate   me?   ”   words   felt   wrong   on   the   tip   of   her   tongue,   a   disrespect   to   the   memory   of   peter’s   chosen   love   now   deceased,   letha   godfrey.   still,   now   resurrected   werewolf   could   not   help   herself.   had   always   held   a   candle   in   the   wind   for   peter   rumancek,   and   likely   would   never   stop.    well   aware   that   it   was   odd   to   ask   his   mom   of   all   people,   though   friends   were   lacking   these   days.   life   led   on   the   run,   everyone   she   had   once   called   family   still   under   the   impression   she   was   dead.   her   parents,   not   like   they   really   cared,   and   the   sworns.   the   closest   thing   she’d   ever   had   to   sisters,   though   chance   they   saw   her   in   the   same   light   was   slim   to   none.   had   to   come   to   terms   with   the   fact   that   she   had   never   truly   mattered   to   anyone,   task   easier   said   than   done.   “   i   mean   –––   he   has   every   reason   to   hate   me.   he   should   hate   me,   don’t   you   think?   i   did   so   much   that   i   wish   i   could   take   back.   ”   memories   of   being   the   vargulf   are   hazy   at   best,   but   guilt   follows   wherever   she   runs.   cannot   outrun   her   past,   no   matter   how   hard   she   has   tried.   leaving   hometown   of   hemlock   grove,   pennsylvania   has   done   her   no   good,   only   brought   more   pain   in   the   end   of   it   all.   “   is   he   okay?   i   haven’t   heard   from   him   in   a   long   time.   ”

@gruvies / lynda rumancek.

[endfght]

meme   ↷   accepting   ↷   @gruvies​​​ [ top ]   -   to  kiss  your  muse  on  the  top  of  their  head  and  then  settle  my  muse’s  cheek  against  it  while  holding  them  close   ( curt  and  juLES ?? )

      the  day  of  her  dreams         and  she  wouldn’t  have  wanted   anyone  else   standing  by  her  side .   it  was  everything  she  could  have  ever  imagined  and  more :   down  to  the  flowers  that  she’d  picked  out  and  the  dress  that  had  been  handmade   just  for  her   ( nothing  but  the   absolute  best   for   their  day ) .   and  he  had  been   her  other  half   for  as  long  as  she  could  remember,   high  school  sweethearts  rarely  lasted         but  curt  and  jules  would  be  the  exception .   the  reality  of  finally  starting  their  lives  together  brings  butterflies  to  her  stomach,   she’s  sure  her  hands  haven’t  stopped  shaking  since  the  minute  she  woke  up .

         she  presses  her  body  as  close  to  his  as  they  can  manage  as  they  continued  to   sway,   side  of  her  face  laying  against  his  chest,   the  sound  of  his  heartbeat  drowning  out  the  music  playing  around  them .   fingers  take  hold  of  the  fabric  of  his  jacket,   for  once  not  caring  if  it’d  cause  wrinkles,   and  hold  on  tightly ;   as  though  he  would   disappear  from  existence   the  minute  she  released  her  grip .   with  everything  that  they  had  been  through,   all  of  the  death  and  loss,   they  had  managed  somehow  managed  to  come  out  of  it  and  became  stronger  together   because  of  it .   if  she  could  go  back  in  time  and   change  her  past,   she  would  without  hesitation,   but  she  was   content   with  where  she  had  ended  up  now .

      all  eyes  are  on  them,   but  he  made  her  feel  like  they  were  the   only  two   in  the  room .   jules  takes  a  deep  breath  in  through  her  nose,   and  with  it  she  inhales   him :   a  scent  she  had  grown  incredibly  familiar  with,   that  brought  an  immediate  sense  of   safety  and  comfort .   his  hand  resting  at  the  small  of  her  back  pulls  her  in  closer  still,   giving  the  fingers  they’d  entwined  a  gentle   squeeze .   the  feel  of  his  lips  in  her  hair  pulls  the  corners  of  her  mouth  up  in  a  smile,   whispered   i  love  you’s   passed  discreetly  between  the  two .   their  song   comes  to  a  quiet  end  and  others  begin  to  flood  the  dancefloor  around  them  with   applause,   though  her  attention  is  still  on  curt’s  beating  heart  and  the  weight  of  his  cheek  on  the  top  of  her  head .

[seventhell]

never one to over-indulge, maeyra had always preferred retaining her cognition to the euphoric senselessness of drunkenness. still, giovanni had given a fair argument: it was his sisters wedding, and how often do you allow yourself to truly live ? so she had agreed with a crooked smile and a roll of her eyes, accepting with an oath of just one drink . . . that quickly turned to two, to three, to too many to remember. there were vague recollections of their exit, flimsy excuses given when asked why they were leaving so early. movements are sloppy, feet dragging from the celebration in the main hall through stone corridors; an unfamiliar space, towards one of the many rooms that occupied the halls of snakewood ⸺ where giovanni had lived and slept and grown for the first sixteen years of his life.

once behind the safety of a closed door, her fingers lose themselves in tangled brown curls, backing up on her tip-toes until her thighs come into contact with the tall chest at the end of their bed. fingers catch against the backs of her thighs, lips parting for only a brief moment as he lifts her up onto the trunk. hasty grasp finds handfuls of her skirts, lifting and tugging and groaning in annoyance until the fabric is gathered around her waist.

mouths find each others again, hungry and desperate as gio pushes himself in between her legs, pressing their bodies together with barely any room to spare. enough so, however, for arms to reach down and work on the ties that held his trousers together, working them undone impatiently. warmth bloomed into a raging inferno in her core, excited tenfold by the heat of his breath on her neck ― the sensation of bare flesh on bare flesh as she pushed his pants down to his knees, and the weight of him in her hand. ❝ i need you, ❞ a whine into @gruvies' mouth, fingernails digging into the fabric covering his forearm as though she could pull him closer still. he retracts, she groans. maeyra's lidded gaze shifts from his mouth to his eyes, brows knit tightly together, kiss-swollen lips parted for panting breath. ❝ please, gio⸻ ❞

[endfght]

a festering ache, the weeping cost of heroism; or so syrathnar had come to believe. bruised eye a badge of honor, a bloodied lip proof of your courage. thus was the price befitting the name: the savior of baldur's gate. shame accompanies the thought, an unworthiness that coursed through the very veins so destined for greatness from consummation. blood from blood, created in his image ⸻ His Chosen; meant to bathe the streets of baldur's gate in blood and ash, not claw them free from the clutches of ruin.

jaw clenches so tight her teeth throb with a certain soreness, one hand with a white-knuckled grip on the wooden chair beneath her, the other pressing a well bled-through scrap of cloth against the seeping wound on her bicep. there was a time where she'd have reveled in this, blood spilled a never-ending offering to her father, her own or another's, death did not discriminate. but weeks of battling urges, fighting the darkness that threatened to consume her wholly, would not be so easily undone with flashes of memories of a long ago life led by a stranger.

let me see the wound.

where once she would bark ⸺ snarl and bare sharp teeth, she has learned softness; she welcomes @gruvies' aid with wide eyes and a relieved sigh. blood smeared from the laceration up and down her arm, flowing down her fingers in a slow yet never-ending drip drip drip. ❝ the mess makes it seem worse than it truly is⸻ ❞ but words spoken through a wince and the paleness of her lips begs to differ otherwise. she fights drowsiness, heavy lids drooping, limbs like lead weights with every move that she makes. poison that coated the blade settles slowly into her bloodstream, a benefit that finds syrathnar grateful that the arrow did not pierce her skin, but merely grazed it. barely more than a scratch, still ― the mind-numbing burn made it seem as though acid were sizzling away the upper half of her arm. she sucks in a deep breath, expression evening to something more neutral, a wavering attempt at stoicism: a grin raises the corner of her mouth, twinkles the faintest glow in her eye, ❝ it's not going to kill me, if that's what you're so worried about. ❞

[endfght]

does that hurt ?

teeth clenched, jaw set tight ⸺ peter's focus shifts from the linoleum floor to the one-handed white-knuckled grip he had on the edge of the table. a twitch comes with every poke of the needle, warm wetness matting his hair down against the back of his head. he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, throbbing headache medicated with the joint held between his fingers. ❝ if those assholes didn't sneak up behind me⸺ ❞ quick breath sucked in through his teeth at the feel of @gruvies finishing off yet another round of at-home stitches. memory of a bottle over the back of his head comes and fades quickly, the aftermath of the jumping that he'd been on the receiving end of leaving him curled on the ground at the mouth of an alley. how he managed to stumble home still a mystery, awoken from a half-sleep by lynda's complaints of blood on their pillows. drowsiness creeps in, not helped at all by the smoke exhaled through his nose; a sting follows, and through a wince he straightens his back and turns, albeit slowly, to face his mother. ❝ they at least fix it from the last time ? ❞

[endfght]

their journey thus far had been a harrowing one, and with baldur's gate just over the horizon, it would soon be coming to a thrilling conclusion. at first her goal had been obvious, a clear path towards removing the parasite & finding her sister; and though she had become distracted and gotten sidetracked more than once, it seemed as though everything that had happened thus far had happened for a reason, and brought her one step closer to what she was after. she expected a difficult journey ― crashing from the sky seemed an ample start to a chaotic adventure ― but she hadn't expected her companions, the friends that they would become along the way. the something more that she'd found in @gruvies. there they'd sat at the foot of the hill in a comfortable quiet, the only sounds the distant crashing of the chionthar and the constant buzzing of locusts. and when wyll's voice finally breaks through the ambiance, flick's gaze turns from the stars above them to his face.

i never thought i’d return here, to the site where it all began.

❝ well, the view's nice at least⸻ ❞ shoulder shrugs, elbow nudging against his side softly. a moment of silence passes, not uncomfortable but lingering in something unknown ― an overwhelming sense of everything and nothing. flick takes a step closer to him, then, hands raising to wrap one around his forearm & entangle their fingers together. attempt to alleviate the weight in the air all but forgotten, a wistful sigh passing her lips. ❝ we're almost home. ❞ matter-of-fact, by this time tomorrow they would be within the city's walls, they'd rescue wyll's father and finally track down ironsoul, and all together they would be one step closer to defeating the absolute. her mind made up, confidence in her & her companions unwavering ⸺ they had no choice but to succeed, or life as they knew it would cease to exist. she squeezes his hand gently. ❝ when this is all over i've got something to show you, okay ? i won't spoil the surprise, but i can promise you it'll be well worth the wait. ❞

[endfght]

❝ my whole body feels like a clenched fist. ❞ an ache so deep she can't massage it out, so insufferable she can't sleep at night. (@gruvies, sc.)