#appleyed

[recitedemise]

It's cruel how fate works. When one errs so terribly, wrongs in a way that cuts thorough to bone, they would feel it only in the beating of their heart--but to see it, touch it, is twice as hard. He looks down to his hand, blight-bitten flesh devastated and gnarled. Having casted those spells, his body yowls in protest, and wrapping with care the cracks in his skin, Gale wears, boasts, and bleeds his faults. Curling his hand, blood oozes midnight out his fissures. Smelling the faintest hint of springtime, the wizard at last jolts. Oh!

"Rather light on your feet aren't you?" he startles, looking up from his work. There she stands. Noonlight drapes her in a drusy shawl, and upon the swell of her cheeks, posies vibrant in their color ooze like honey. Quickly, Gale studies her for any wounds left ghastly by those treacherous druids, before finally, quietly, he stops rolling his gauze. "I suppose all the better to avoid trampling those first stubborn growths of the season," he jokes. "I'm flattered, though I'd hardly call myself some delicate orchid. Do try not to sneak up on me. You look well--all things considered."

@appleyed.

[nectaric]

as her huntresses lingered behind, admiring the sprawling farm around them with tired eyes, artemis ascended the steps to knock on the front door. she normally would have favoured a quiet place in the forest to camp instead of this, but their hunt had taken them across many terrains, and a hunt friendly farm was better than one that wasn't. (or at least, artemis sure hoped it was friendly).

"hi." artemis said with a wild smile as the door swung open. "demigoddess, correct? daughter of demeter, if i had to guess. i'm artemis. you wouldn't mind if my girls set up here for the night, would you? we clean up after ourselves, promise."

@appleyed

[ragedagainst]

" no, don't look at me like that. " when andromeda approaches, an eager glint to her gaze, jyn's hackles immediately raise. the last time the druid had come hunting for someone to accompany her on a little excursion out of camp, she'd led jyn right into the middle of a bloody goblin camp. already exhausted from the fighting earlier that morning, she has no intention of doing anything else for the rest of the day except for cleaning her gear and then getting some rest. " find someone else –– i'm busy. "

@appleyed liked for a small starter !

[burygods]

@appleyed : paige harris & andromeda presley ( sc. )

❛ ❛ don't speak, no, don't try. it's been a secret for the longest time. ❜ ❜

[pohlepen]

       ❝   what do you call the opposite of a green-thumb?   that’s what i have.    ❞

❛ starter call / @appleyed ♡

[dreamvisit]

malia wakes up to the a cough. wracking through her whole body and shifting her fully up, up, UP so that she might find the breaths that were avoiding her. she knows she should be happy to have a roof over her head at all. happy to have walls that block some of fall's harsher elements, elated that they didn't have to set up rudimentary camp with no locks, or doors, or way to know if someone was hot on their heels. SHE GETS THAT. something, something about being blessed and all, but the abandoned house they'd found had been more dust than concrete, and the constant drip, drip, drip from the water run-off after it's rained was slightly maddening. RUNAWAYS can't be choosers, but god she'd choose differently. knowing sleep wouldn't welcome her back, she gets up. walks with light steps to go and find some semblance of normalcy in the decidedly fucked up, and makes her way out the front door quietly, so as not to disturb anybody else's restless rest. when the lock softly clicks behind her and the morning chill tickles her cheeks, malia is pleased to see a distinctly blonde head already outside. @appleyed framed by the soft glow of dawn. ANDROMEDA. at least something's she'd choose over and over again. " hey. " she greets, folding down next to her new roommate and using the jacket covering her arms to bundle her head in. GOD, her head hurt. not all of their parents or hunters dreams were helpful. some were useless, personal, devoid of any real life stresses the kids might have caused. but SOME, ( with malia's generous guiding ) told her what was on their mind when they closed their eyes that night. what they expected the next day to look like and THAT, that was priceless. she speaks into her arms at first, initial words a bit muffled until she realizes that's unhelpful and props her chin on her bent leg. " they're going back to the train station today. they still think we took off east, should buy us at least a few days. "

[refabled]

@appleyed : ❝ you helped me when I needed help. I won't forget it. ❞

❝ well, druids have to stick together, right? ❞ fable beamed at andromeda, her blue eye shining with warmth. ❝ you don't have to repay the favor, or anything. seriously. consider it... I don't know. just–– it was nothing, really. ❞ her experience at the grove had proven that not every circle thought alike, but fable was more than happy to have found a like-minded friend in the midst of it all.

❝ maybe if we continue working together, we might actually be able to help the refugees out without anyone else getting hurt. ❞ she thought of arabella, desperate to return to her parents, and her heart gave a lurch, an involuntary clench. ❝ there has to be something we can do! ❞

CARING AND REASSURING STARTERS : accepting.

[addolais]

when a boy has no life , it is a painful joy to watch the lives of others continue around him. the petty troubles of teenhood , the toll of daily work , the ache of love on the heart. trivial pains that the boy only now realised he had craved before. before was now so long ago. now was the present and the future , the spectral plain of his existence stretching out ahead with no defined ending. sometimes watching became too much.

away from monmouth , away from blue , away from the ley lines , his figure grows sullied ⸻ smudgy , as gansey was prone to noting. but the power of henrietta appeared to inhabit more than the gangsey. for some time he’d seen another ethereal character around town. she was not him , not another ghost , noah had established that. but what ? he did not know. perhaps in some distant past , he would have asked whelk. but that was the past and this was the present , the future.

the time had come to speak to her , building courage from the energy he grasped from the earth , to inhabit a corporeal form lest not to scare the stranger.

“ i’ve been watching you— ” dude , that’s fucking creepy. “ i meant ⸻ i’ve seen you around. henrietta. and … and the forests. you smell of cabeswater the forest. ”

starter ⸻ @appleyed

[couldfight]

a starter for @appleyed !

breath comes in ragged pants as she runs through the trees. risking a quick glance back, she sees the creature is no longer following her, but she knows it can't be too far behind. eyes dart around wildly as they try to get their bearings - there's a gate round here somewhere, but in their panic, they can't think where. tears threaten to spill onto her cheeks but she tries to blink them back.

sounds coming from the opposite side of the clearing has her cowering behind one of the rotting trees, waiting for the chilling screech of the demogorgon, but instead she only hears desperate panting. curly head peaks around from their hiding spot to try & see who's there, who else could possibly be wandering around the upside down.

[manslaught]

@appleyed “people look at me like i'm a monster.” her tone doesn't carry the same weight as her words, almost amused by it instead—she tells herself it's fine, preferred, even, to be feared, rather than the one afraid. it doesn't matter how lonely it gets at times, so long as she feels protected at the end of the day. “it wasn't even that bad—i only broke four ribs. he has, like, twenty more, i think.” the son of hermes had practically asked for it, anyway, provoking her until she snapped, shoving him onto the ground, pressing until she heard a crack. he's okay now, resting in the infirmary, being spoon-fed ambrosia, so really, mikayla doesn't know what the big deal is. “you saw what happened, right? he was being a dick.”

[pickpetals]

@appleyed, good morning, kiss my muse the morning after.

the yellow rays of the sun are shining through the gap of the curtains, shining against the back of his closed lids and turning the blackness into an interruptive glow. he feels the bare skin from where his arm is slumped over annie's waist, fingers twitching to life to rub gently in the same place on her hip that was gripped with a bruising strength the night before. pupils don't make an appearance until the mattress shifts underneath the movement of weight and his lips are invaded with the soft kiss that is planted on them, a sleepy smile tugging at the corners of his lips. ❝ good morning to you too, ❞ he says once it concludes, squinting against the unwelcomed sun and rolling closer to her. hand is brought upwards to tangle her hair, catching her mouth in another kiss that is more intense than the innocent one that was offered to him. ❝ gross, morning breath. ❞

[darephi]

@appleyed : ❝ all of this is my fault. ❞

rachel frowned as andromeda spoke, her voice thick with guilt and shame. ❝ don't say that, ❞ she said, perhaps too bluntly at first. wincing, she took a seat beside the druid and attempted to rephrase: ❝ I mean, it's just not true. you couldn't have known this would happen. none of us did. ❞ rachel herself, gift of prophecy and all, could only see so much. destiny, though a real and powerful force, was mutable in how it arrived –– whether by boat or on foot.

❝ you're allowed to feel whatever way you want, but don't put this all on your shoulders when what happened here is a consequence of many people's actions. ❞ she gazed thoughtfully at the darkness that had overtaken the last light inn. all the lives lost... she sighed and gave andromeda's knee a squeeze. ❝ we have to keep going. ❞

SIX WORD SENTENCES : accepting.

[firemourn]

＊     ANDROMEDA     ﹠     ❛     YOU'RE SAFE WITH ME , I SWEAR IT  .

          safe is not a condition that is familiar to caleb widogast.  how many years has he been running  ?     (     asked directly , he will avoid answering , but he knows the time from the year down to the second.  here's the secret  :  he's been running since he applied to that cursed school that took everything from him.     )     the woman before him is  ...  strange.  there's an undeniable air of magic around @appleyed , alongside an undercurrent of something more dangerous and ancient than anything he's ever experienced.  it would benefit him to not argue , he realizes , if he is to come out the other end alive.

          "     i understand.     "     but he doesn't , not really.  there's very little reason for anyone to show him kindness.  were it not for the odd measure of sincerity in her voice , he would have assumed her a better con artist than himself.     "     though if i may ask ...  who are you , and why are you offering this  ?     "

[embodies]

' stop screaming, i'm not the one who hurt you! '   ↪ @appleyed : dean.

❛ you, them, who the hell gives a damn ? ❜ his tone has escalated from curt to enraged, years of lives stripped away from him broiling into one sharp climax. at the apex of his anger there is fear, mourning, the grief of a boy made soldier. anger is easier. easier than trusting her, accepting that not everything has to be a monster in this cruel and dark world. ❛ yer just like the rest of 'em, and if you're not ? ❜ his laugh is bitterly hissed through his teeth, jaw clenching like a heartbeat, a spasmodic thrum of fury. ❛ 's jus' a matter of time until you will be. ❜

[earthwoken]

∗ 36﹕ sender  is  found  drunk  by  receiver .

midnight  shifts  at  the  factory  always  set  themselves  apart,  the  fatigue  and  exhaustion  visible  on  the  way  adam  carries  himself  to  the  top  of  the  stairs  at  st.  agnes  church.  already  fantasising  about  the  mostly  warm  shower,  the  not-so  comfortable  bed.  it  doesn't  even  matter  in  the  end,  because  they  belong  to  him,  and  that's  enough  for  the  moment.  adam  isn't  expecting  the  glimpse  of  blonde  hair  as  he  reaches  the  second  floor,  the  door  to  his  apartment  blocked  by  andromeda's  presence.  what  are  you  doing  here  ?  and  how  did  you  find  out  where  i  live  ?  are  the  first  questions  he  feels  inclined  to  ask,  but  parrish  has  learned  to  not  ask  question  he  doesn't  want  the  answer  to.  instead,  he  says :  “  the  church  is  downstairs.  ”  what  he  means  :  why  are  you  sitting  in  front  of  my  door  in  the  middle  of  the  night  ?  it  would  make  more  sense  if  she  was  seeking  the  comfort  of  religion,  adam  might  not  relate  but  he  understands.  either  way,  it's  not  long  before  his  analytical  side  kicks  in.  the  disheveled  hair,  the  smell  of  alcohol  that  reminds  him  of  ronan,  a  displeased  look  on  her  face  that  strangely  mirrors  his  own.  “  is  there  something  wrong  with  the  ley  line  ?  ”  adam  feels  comfortable  enough  to  ask,  unsure  if  their  dynamic  allows  for  something  else.  unsure if their dynamic allows for the truth.

a hundred nonverbal prompts : accepting !

[likcthestar]

starter for @appleyed

How many hours have been spent poring over images of flowers like these? Cress is mesmerized, enchanted. Illustrations cannot capture the way the sunlight diffuses on the petals, the verdant gleam of the leaves, the heady scent that makes Mistress Sybil’s perfume seem cheap and useless. More than that, the way they move in the wind together, a field of gently swaying colors.

Her chemise is likely ruined from the mud, but Cress doesn’t mind. If she expected to see anyone, she would be wearing something more substantial— she doesn’t even have shoes. Yet even as that thought occurs, she hears movement behind her, and rushes to her feet, flushed and stammering and disappointed.

“I’m sorry!” She says, reflexively. “I’m— i wasn’t going to touch them. Or, I mean, I was. But I didn’t know anyone would be here! I thought the garden was— empty. I’m sorry.”