BURNING

[pyrrhk]

WHY ARE THEY TRYING TO TURN ME INTO A SAINT? oh god, oh god. I WANT TO DO THINGS! STOP TURNING ME INTO A SAINT!          independent katniss everdeen of thg series. written by bee ( 25, est, she/they ). carrd.

[maid2n]

can you feel how i tremble? there is a stampede in my blood that unworks me. over and over i pick my bones off the floor and sew them back into the shape of a body. isn't that what life is like, running from the ghosts within you that tear you apart at your seams? how many times have i died in the night only to get out of bed the next mornings? the chorus is laughing at me, singing fragile girl, the lightning will devour you soon and it's always soon and i'm always running. in my dreams i name myself sycamore tree. i shed the torments of my youth, i grow wild with sunlight on my tongue, and i survive for centuries. in reality i take a hot shower, pull on clean clothes, and choose to move forward. small moments of tenderness are better than none.

independent princess zelda by bee. tears of the kingdom spoiler heavy! x.

[maid2n]

can you feel how i tremble? there is a stampede in my blood that unworks me. over and over i pick my bones off the floor and sew them back into the shape of a body. isn't that what life is like, running from the ghosts within you that tear you apart at your seams? how many times have i died in the night only to get out of bed the next mornings? the chorus is laughing at me, singing fragile girl, the lightning will devour you soon and it's always soon and i'm always running. in my dreams i name myself sycamore tree. i shed the torments of my youth, i grow wild with sunlight on my tongue, and i survive for centuries. in reality i take a hot shower, pull on clean clothes, and choose to move forward. small moments of tenderness are better than none.

independent princess zelda by bee. tears of the kingdom spoiler heavy! x.

[pyrrhk]

watching the hbo angels in america for the millionth time? more likely than you think

[pyrrhk]

i've been playing totk and i have some zelda muse??? mild totk spoilers in the tags.

[pyrrhk]

work has been extremely busy and awful lately and eating my brain when i'm not on shift :/ i'll be around on monday tho i don't have work then thank god. work rant in the tags.

[pyrrhk]

me having a fun little time w my friends visiting the city vs me being so so eepy any time i do anything

[fen-harela]

he knows katniss is in the room before she even speaks — this is what he liked about the rotunda. only two ways in, three if you decide you want to drop from the ceiling, and all are within eyeshot of his desk, which has been so meticulously placed in the center of his space. “ you found one? ” he asks, looking up from his desk, fingers wrapped around a quill. when he asked the inquisitor to keep an eye out for the artifacts, he never imagined she would. he's eternally grateful she has.

in the exalted plains. a place he's not particularly fond of returning to. but still . . . it offered an opportunity to see another one of these artifacts up close. “ i . . . yes. i will come. thank you, inquisitor. ” solas stands from his desk, palms resting against the surface of it as he looks across the room at katniss. “ i will remember this. it means a great deal to me. ” he pauses to move to the front of the desk, which he leans on as soon as he gets to it. “ have i told you their purpose yet? they are good for more than strengthening the veil. ”

[pyrrhk]

oh. i knew he'd been eager for us to find them, there'd been a sort of earnest want in his voice when he'd asked - and he never really seemed like the sort to ask for something frivolously - but it seems like it was a bigger deal than i'd realized. "the scouts think so. they said it looks like your description." there's more weight to i will remember this than i had prepared myself for and the smile i give feels awkward on my face as i shift my weight from one foot to the other. my hands stay in the pockets of my coat and i don't move from my spot in the doorway as he rounds the desk.

"not really." i am curious. it's something i know nothing about. father used to tell me stories - stories his father had told him, the old stories - but i don't remember anything about items that strengthen the veil. father was a miner, and his father was a miner, and so on. the stories had more to do with gods and lost ruins than artifacts. "what else do they do? all i remember is the, uh, strengthening the veil." maker knows the thing could use as much strengthening as possible. i flex my fingers and glance down at the pale green glow of my palm with a mild frown before looking back at solas.

[odairing-archived]

TORTURED GIRL WITH THE SNUFFED OUT EYES, seeing glimpses of life in places it no longer exists. katniss was fire, and now she is smoke.

the revolution was the most exorbitant transaction finnick has ever made. for four’s treasured victor, it cost him half his family, and it ripped his wife in half. in his body he carries a permanent damaged memory and a pink webbing of scar tissue down his legs where the claws of the lizard mutts had threatened to do much worse.

hues of sea glass, brilliant and beautiful, turn to the girl of ash and smoke.

“ I miss mags. I wish she could’ve met my son. I wish things hadn’t happened that did anyway. but I don’t miss how we lived before. ”

how could he possibly miss a world where he does not wear a ring on his finger? where he cannot be open and proud of his wife? where hands and teeth and tongue possess him while she must be the one who waits for him? how could he miss a world where he knew he would never be able to have a child with annie? katniss did not know it. she was too young to know how to live like a victor, never got the chance to do much more than glimpse the maw of that void before it snapped shut forever, but finnick had been falling down it for a decade. they come from different paths of sorrow.

he watches the surface of the water, rippling slightly with the caress of the breeze combing through thick woods. it is nothing like his home, the riotous, unruly, unchained ocean.

“ what else do you remember about these woods? ” he asks, again observing the water. it would be a nice day for a swim.

[pyrrhk]

he doesn't. that much is clear in his answer. there are parts of it i am so glad are gone. starving. the dread of every reaping. having to hunt, to drag myself out of bed even when i did not feel i could. but i miss more. it would feel ridiculous to say, especially to him, when i know what the world was like for him for so long before. but that doesn't make it any less true.

what i can't say is that i would give it all back if prim could still be here. these days i can get out of bed, get dressed, eat, bathe, take walks, talk with people. it's better than it was, but my heart is gone. it isn't in my chest anymore. where it used to be there is a gaping hole. i thought it hurt to lose rue, or cinna, or mags, or boggs, or the leggs or - but this is different. of course finnick doesn't miss before; he still has annie. that's unfair and i know it even as i think it. i still have peeta. but it's - - - i don't know. prim was the only reason i did any of it. ANY OF IT. and i couldn't save her. what i remember - instead of the woods - is volunteering. shouting the words before i even realized i was speaking. prim turning to look at me, her blue eyes wide, right before the bombs went off.

when i blink my eyes are wet, so i keep my face turned away from finnick. "gale, mostly." maybe the waver in my voice can be disguised for missing him. i do. even though i can't even imagine looking at him right now and seeing anything but his hands building silver parachutes, i miss him. i miss him how we used to be. "this is where we'd hunt. and my father. it's - he's the one who taught me about mockingbirds. we would sing to them together." that's an older missing piece. it's something i can talk about, even if i usually don't. "it's why i wouldn't let them use singing as my talent, when i was in the victor's village. it was ours, not - theirs."

[pyrrhk]

camelot lincoln center broke my heart xoxo

[pyrrhk]

i have peeta and katniss brainrot

[bloodyhistorie]

we were sisters. we felt each other’s pain. we caused each other’s pain. we knew the smell of each other’s morning breath. we made each other cry. we made each other laugh. we got angry, pinched, kicked, screamed at each other. we kissed, on the forehead, nose on nose, butterfly eyelashes swept against cheeks. we wore each other’s clothes. we stole from each other, treasured objects hidden under pillows. we defended each other. we lied to each other. we pretended to be older people, other people. we played dress up. we spied on each other. we possessed each other like shiny things. we loved each other with potent, fervent fury. animal fury. monstrous fury.          BLOODYHISTORIE. an original character dual muse blog by bee.

[alistirs]

as NO sacrifice is greater than theirs.

[melnchly-deactivated20250130]

how honest can she be? madge weighs the decision as she looks at katnisss, mulls over the question. it's a good one - - - she had known in the moment she had pinned the mockingjay to katniss that it could open questions she wouldn't know how to answer. one way or another, the wings of that bird had needed to find their way to the arena.

but there had been more than one reason. more than one reason madge had wanted that pin to go where it needed to. "i thought you deserved something to remind you of home," she says. "symbols can be a lot stronger than we sometimes give them credit for." her aunt maysilee had worn that pin into the arena. the pin had come back whole - - maysilee had not. it was not a symbol of luck, but of something else.

madge's eyes scan their surroundings, a quick and practiced scan that looks like little more than distraction. "you know about my aunt maysilee, don't you?" she says. "she was reaped along with haymitch in the fiftieth quarter quell. she wore that pin into the arena. haymitch came back, of course. maysilee didn't. but they were allies, and he held her hand as she died. they helped one another survive." madge's blue eyes meet katniss's, and though it isn't the whole truth, she offers a part of it: "i thought if haymitch saw it, if he had to see it over and over again, he'd remember her. and that meybe he'd be able to put the bottle down long enough to help the girl who wore her pin."

[pyrrhk]

like the cookies peeta's father pressed into my hands. that thought has been crossing my mind more frequently lately. his promise that prim and mother wouldn't starve. little comforts. but then it morphs into tucking wildflowers into rue's hair and folding her rapidly cooling hands over her chest. little kindnesses. the mention of her aunt draws me back to here and now and my brow furrows at the thought.

"yeah." what i know about maysilee donner could fit in a thimble. madge's mother was never the same after her sister died. it's why we rarely see her now, and i've never asked madge about it; i wouldn't want to be asked. no one had asked me, when my mother couldn't get out of bed, when prim and i had hollow cheeks and concave bellies. when i pull the pin out of my pocket the light glints off the polished gold ring and i run the edge of my thumb across it, the blunt edge of my nail catching on the beak. "i meant to give it back to you, but it's part of the brand now." does that sound as acerbic as it felt coming out of my throat?

maybe that is what helped haymitch want to bother with me to begin with. "well. thank you. it did...it was nice to have something from home." like the bread from eleven, after rue; the memory of a community when it was stripped from me. something about what madge said sticks in the back of my head, though. symcols can be a lot stronger than we sometimes give them credit for. i look away from her merchant blue eyes and shake my head. "he never talked about his games."

[luthienne]

Odysseus Elytis, from Maria Nephele (trans. from the Greek by Athan Anagnostopoulos)

[Text ID: Hello grief / Good morning grief / you've settled permanently within us]

[bloodyhistorie]

we were sisters. we felt each other’s pain. we caused each other’s pain. we knew the smell of each other’s morning breath. we made each other cry. we made each other laugh. we got angry, pinched, kicked, screamed at each other. we kissed, on the forehead, nose on nose, butterfly eyelashes swept against cheeks. we wore each other’s clothes. we stole from each other, treasured objects hidden under pillows. we defended each other. we lied to each other. we pretended to be older people, other people. we played dress up. we spied on each other. we possessed each other like shiny things. we loved each other with potent, fervent fury. animal fury. monstrous fury.          BLOODYHISTORIE. an original character dual muse blog by bee.

[needwantcaps]