#ptternminds

[stillresolved]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY LENLEN ( @ptternminds )!! did you know that your muses are very photographable and deserve to be on the cover of a magazine?? and also that your blog deserves fan content?? well now you don't have to imagine anymore!!

again though i hope you have the most wonderful day and i hope this year will be a peaceful and happy one for you 💕💕💕

[repetiita]

@ptternminds asked : 🎤 Kaede bc you'd think i'd grow less insane about her with time, alas, here we are

We all know that I have 3 smokers, 2 heavy drinkers and 2 drug users in my muse list. Kaede here, has hit 3 for 3, she smokes, she takes to alcohol like a fish in water and as doctor, she uses drugs. In her defense, she does so as a test but the fact still stands, she is a MESS ( My money, my time, my liver, I'll hand them all over ). Mostly created from the circumstances of being unwanted by her birth mother, Kaede Himuro craves LOVE. ( In the end, once you’re drunk, anyone is fine )

Will she find it at the bottom of a bottle? No, but what she will find is an easy way to forget her issues and be wanted for at least a few minutes ( People, in order to kill off their own loneliness -- And to throw up their emptiness, drink ).

I chose this song because it's good for 3 characters but it speaks to how Kaede desires acceptance and fleeting love and pleasure and is willing to lie and throw away her pride in a drunken stupor to get it ( Everyone's a hypocrite, hunting while using kind lies as bait ). And unlike the other two, she's ready to do it every single night after work. She wants what she didn't grow up with, she wants to be chosen ( once you're drunk, anyone is fine ), she wants to settle down and marry ( I won't even be chosen as that "anyone" ). She wants what she doesn't think she'll get despite her 'confidence' ( It's easy to lie about love ).

A mixed drink full of cheap bourbon Is a good fit for a half-wit like you But once we’re drunk, I’m sure It’ll all taste the same People, in order to kill off their own loneliness And to throw up their emptiness, drink  My money, my time, my liver Hey, I’ll hand ‘em all over, so Why don’t we try being together?

In the end, Kaede will drink and use herself as a drug tester until her dying days if she isn't forcibly shown that she doesn't need someone else to give her life meaning. Her dad didn't need it when she was raised by him and neither does she. Also the thing I like the most at the end of EVERY chorus is that it ends three ways. The first is p much how she's living life fast without a care ( Don't stop! Without a single care, one more glass! ), then the second is how she's become dependent without even realising she's just drinking to drink ( Can't stop! Without any meaning, one more glass!) and then the acceptance that she is a dumbass but she still ( Won't stop! Before I die, one more glass! ).

You might not be able to fix her without matching her freak ( Shushing people by pressing a finger to my lips, I'll leave out the usual stuff that happens till 2 A.M. ).

↳ FOR EVERY 🎤 SENT, I WILL LIST A SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH MY MUSE ::

[wellfell]

 akina has been called a spoiled brat , more than twice a day . a girl that's not satisfied with whatever stupid present you bring for her , no matter how hard you've worked to buy her one because she's used to the grandest and most extravagant luxuries — a marble mansion and triplet tigers were the start of her lovely story , these soldiers didn't have any idea what akina has seen and tasted before coming here . and she's expected to be dissatisfied with the current situation , disgusted by the gesture of a maria boy saving her some napkins and a fork .

 her brows raise with an unexpectedly tender expression . it dissolves into playfulness when she lets out an airy giggle and turns back to the plates she's filling with soft potatoes and some greenery she's sure nobody will eat . that's why they prefer eren's cooking , and armin’s cooking , because they don't busy themselves with unnecessary decorations of the plates . the greens she's dipped in oil and softened with heat , it'll help with their stomach problems but it's unlikely anyone will pay attention to her hard work . ❛ are you saying that i'm too fancy to be eating with my hands ? ❜  a quite mischievous look flashes her eyes when she passes by him to gather the napkins . ❛ i’ll take the napkins though . ❜  can't have her walking around with a dirty mouth or dirty fingers , yeah ? mikasa enters the kitchen and shuts her up , quickly , effectively , the plates were gently handed to her to be carried to the table inside the room and out of the kitchen . they don't exchange many words , not at all in fact , but akina understands what she's asking for when she stares at the glasses for too long . so , quickly , she puts them on top of the plates too , with a big grin and watches her head out . a few moments pass , before akina jumps to sit on top of the counter with her own plate on her lap . she's grabbed the fork eren saved for her , and she's eating . starting from the greens . ❛ i used to get mad at our maids for putting mashed potatoes with duck meat . i hated it because my mom would always force me to eat it too . ❜  she points at eren with the fork after biting off the potato from it's tip . ❛ i love it now . i think you just make it better than our maids did . ❜

    * - ' cont. @ptternminds

[wrathphoenix]

@ptternminds continued from here.

When Shi QingXuan had laid eyes on that particular silk shawl while roaming the markets of the mortal realm, they just knew they would have to buy it for their new friend. The colors were vivid, the fabric was soft to the touch. It was light enough to not  give one the feeling of being choked while wearing it, but it was still enough to keep one warm in winter. It was beautiful. Ming-xiong could only roll his eyes at the sentiment, he was used to Shi QingXuan handing out gifts like they were nothing, he had had his fair share of gifts himself ever since Shi QingXuan had put the utmost effort into befriending the Earth Master, but that didn’t mean he could not pretend to be annoyed at Shi QingXuan’s behavior. The Wind Master wasn’t bothered by that at all as it was Ming-xiong’s usual attitude, so Shi QingXuan just laughed.

“Oh, don’t be like that, Ming-xiong. I would have gifted this to you, but these are definitely not your colours. Hua Lian will love this, though!”

Shi QingXuan was sure of it.

Yet, when they waited outside of Ling Wen’s palace, waiting for Hua Lian to finish his daily shift as a Civil God, they couldn’t help but feel like he was not as thrilled as they hoped him to be. The smile never left Shi QingXuan’s lips, they were still looking at their friend with anticipation as Hua Lian seemed to inspect the shawl in his hands, but as the moment dragged on Shi QingXuan couldn’t help but feel a little nervous and eventually their smile faltered for a moment.

“You don’t.. like it?”

Shi QingXuan was well liked among the Heavenly Officials, mostly because of their generosity, because they liked to spoil their peers with merits whenever they could. They knew there were also the ones that called them naïve, their brother was sometimes among those voices, but they believed there couldn’t be anything wrong with kindness among a Court that liked to talk behind one another’s back. So when the newly ascended Hua Lian had approached them, trying to befriend them, Shi QingXuan had willingly accepted the offered friendship, though the hesitation they now saw in Hua Lian’s eyes made them feel uneasy. And when Hua Lian suggested it would look well on Shi QingXuan they took back the shawl for a moment, once more inspecting it, slender fingers running over the fabric as if to check the quality. Maybe it was not to Hua Lian’s liking?

“You flatter me, Hua Lian”, Shi QingXuan says cheerfully as they were obviously not someone to reject a given compliment, but talking about their own beauty had definitely not been the reason for todays visit. Shi QingXuan and Hua Lian had not been friends for a long time, but they couldn’t help but feel like there was a certain emptiness behind Hua Lian’s smile sometimes, like the smile meant to please the people around him, to serve as a mask, to cover up what he was really feeling. Shi QingXuan wanted to give Hua Lian a proper reason to smile.

“Hua Lian. Would you please accept my gift? Even if it is just this once? It would mean a lot to me.”

There was warmth and gentleness in Shi QingXuan’s gaze as he looked at Hua Lian, his movement was slow as he stepped forward so Hua Lian could easily avoid them if he wanted to, but then they reached out and they carefully wrapped the shawl around Hua Lian’s neck, tugging the lose ends into his robe.

“There. It looks great on you, just like I said.”

[uroborosymphony]

               @ptternminds sent:

"There are eternal flames in Australia," Sarang twirls the wilted roses between her fingers. She'd picked them up somewhere hours ago, found an odd fascination with a bouquet thrown out for reaching what Sarang would describe only as another stage of another kind of beauty. "They say it's thousands of years old. I would have named it after you, had I discovered it first," the wilted roses, of course, are no match for the ancient beauty walking by her side. It's odd, how tranquil Sarang's soul becomes, when next to Calista, someone she met as enemy, as only equal opponent. But it's true. Her soul rests. "I suggest we visit," she introduces next, halting the Lamia in her step with a hand around her wrist. Her fingers tighten, an odd contrast in desperation, to the way she maintains her smile, trying to convince Calista, every day, to find a will to live in Sarang if nowhere else. "We could leave right now. Pretend to have never existed at all, and exist in peace there." ((😌💝))

Calista pauses her steps, feeling the warmth of Sarang's hand around her wrist. Her gaze drifts from Sarang's fingers to the wilted roses, their delicate petals curling in a final dance before they crumble to dust. There is a strong allure in Sarang's words, in the way she speaks of ancient yet eternal flames, forgotten places, and the offer of existing together forever. "You would have? Mm. I am not a thousand years old yet, Beloved," Calista speaks, her voice carrying the weight of time. Yet as the words leave her lips, she realizes... one day, she will be. This past January, she and Sarang marked her 600th year with a celebration in their cabin in the woodsd. If she does not find a way to die as she has long wished, a thousand years will come sooner than she dares imagine. Her eyes always soften when they meet Sarang's. Perhaps also, it is a way for Sarang to say she wishes Calista will reach her thousand years old, with her. "An eternal flame," she murmurs, her voice like the whisper of autumn leaves. "Now that I ponder it, after wandering the world and unraveling its secrets, it seems almost inconceivable that such a flame has escaped my notice." She gently laces her fingers with Sarang's, feeling the steady pulse of life beneath her touch. "To vanish, to dwell in peace in a foreign land... It is a dangerous temptation when speaking by you, Huntress," she says, a gentle smile playing upon her lips. "Could it truly be? To simply... exist there, unburdened by the shadows of our pasts?" Her gaze searches Sarang’s, as if seeking reassurance in those depths. "When my eyes meet yours, it is a siren’s call I find most difficult to resist." A silence falls between them, Calista’s thoughts swirling like the wind. How is it that in Sarang’s presence, the centuries seem less a burden. Never has she wished to live as she does now, standing beside this fierce, tender soul that is her lover's, hers, Sarang. Yet with that wish comes a fear—what is this yearning that stirs within her? This desire to cling to life, when for so long she simply wanted death? "If we go," she continues, her voice taking on the cadence of a time long past, each word carefully chosen, "if we forsake all that has come before, it can't be for a mere moment. It shall be for as long as the flames endure, for as long as your heart desires it." She hesitates, her gaze turning inward, questioning. "But I wonder... will I have the strength to embrace this newfound yearning? To live, truly live, when I never fully knew how to?"

[mythvoiced]

-. MOVING

ALL RIGHT, find my ass over on @/ptternminds. Activity will continue to be low, for the most part; I won't carry things from my inbox & drafts over, but I will definitely continue threads/things I've gotten replies to after my hiatus announcement.

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[tewwor]

freshest catch of they night day interaction call ( accepting ) — @ptternminds

A low melodic echo rounds her little stall. Ini's hard at work, as always, but with wet slate eyes cast between sky and sea. Somewhere, in the far distance, a storm brews. Won't hit the town today, but soon..

"Heed the sign, sugar." She doesn't turn to face the newcomer. Simply points a slender finger to the sign overhead —  large chalked letters that read ‘you break, you buy’ encased in varnished wood. "You in the market for some wares? Charms? Got a sale on the knots — only one left for today. Let me know if you’d like to snatch one.” Anymore than four a day and she’d be drained of magic for the next three. Damn sailors and their favored gusts or grants for fortune.

[stillresolved]

"It is my business because I care about you." - annjae eunnie if it works? 🥺🥺🥺 (i'll take both names at the same time pls 🥺🥺🥺)

@ptternminds / bridgerton prompts.

THE THING ABOUT COMING BACK is that now she’s officially a mentor, Annie is, by Capitol standards, healthy. Fit, healthy, able-bodied, and not mad. There are pros and cons to this assumption, she has come to quickly learn. 

On one hand, it means she doesn’t have any more of those mandated doctor visits. She hated those, back during her ‘recovery’ in District Four, where the doctor assigned by the Capitol ( not by choice of course, who in the Capitol would want to live in the Districts? Apparently that’s the equivalent of social suicide, as if that would be the end of all things ever ), would ask her probing if not demeaning questions. Her appointments always left her feeling lightheaded, dizzy.

( Mad. )

On the other hand, they call her normal now. Still the Mad Girl yes, but just like any other victor, functional. Officially, in their records, she’s been cured of her madness. 

( They’re foolish like that. How do you know when a mad girl becomes normal again? The answer is you don’t because she never will be. )

It’s no wonder then, how they’ll willingly look the other way when the madness strikes again. An episode, the doctor had called it. Depersonalization and derealization. But all Annie knows about it is that it always starts small. Light spots in her vision, the voices of those around her growing more and more distant until their mouths remind her of goldfish forming air bubbles: soundless and then sooner than later, formless too.

That’s when it gets worse. Scarier, how the forms turn formless, turn blurry until she can’t tell what’s real and what’s not real.  She shuts her eyes and crouching, she covers both ears with her hands. She has to get it together, she knows this, knows that the others are watching her, evaluating her because if she doesn’t pull it together, they’re going to come back. They’re going to come back for her and throw her in that hospital room because it’s just like they’ve been saying all along, she’s the mad girl, girls like that need to be locked away for betterment of everyone else and-

Someone approaches. Someone she knows? It can’t be– her mentor is too busy with his current tributes. But who else would dare to come close to her. Through a mosaic vision, a familiar face appears. Something blue dangles by their chin. Lips move- are you okay? Annie shakes her head. Tries not to cry either.

“Leave me, I-I, it’s none of your business.”

The person frowns. Or maybe that is just Annie’s imagination. Either way, Annie flinches; did she just anger them? No, that’s the last person she wants to upset because of her. It makes no sense, worrying about them; they don’t know her the way District Four does, they don’t even know Annie all that well and have no reason to do so. It’d be easier for them that way too– their nonchalance to the eye of the media is what makes them impervious to the Capitol. To show even an ounce of caring will…they crouch down next to her. 

"It is my business because I care about you."

A hand rests on the top of her back. Annie focuses on its warmth, spreading from there and then down. That’s real, isn’t it? That’s real along with Eunjae who reminds her to remember to breathe. Her games are already done, she’s survived and right now, in spite of it all, she’s alive.

The outline of her feet begins to return into focus. She sniffles.

“Thank…you…”

[repetiita]

@ptternminds asked : 🎤 Herr Gilbert~

What you gonna do WHEN THE CHIPS ARE DOWN? Now that the chips are down TAKE if you can, give if you must Ain't nobody but yourself to trust

What you gonna do when the chips are down? Now that the chips are down What you gonna do when the chips are down? Now that the chips are down

Aim for the heart, shoot to kill If you don't do it, then the other one will What you gonna do when the chips are down? Now that the chips are down What you gonna do when the chips are down? Now that the chips are down

And the first shall be first And the last shall be last Cast your eyes to heaven You get a knife in the back Nobody's righteous Nobody's proud Nobody's innocent Now that the chips are down

↳ FOR EVERY 🎤 SENT, I WILL LIST A SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH MY MUSE :: accepting !

[repetiita]

@ptternminds asked : 🎤 and Camilla ♥

Someday When we are wiser When the world's older When we have learned I pray Someday we may yet live To live and let live

Someday Life will be fairer Need will be rarer Greed will not pay Godspeed This bright millennium On it's way

Let it come SOMEDAY

↳ FOR EVERY 🎤 SENT, I WILL LIST A SONG I ASSOCIATE WITH MY MUSE :: accepting !

[stillresolved]

@ptternminds sent in: If María had a table to do it on, any kind of surface, she'd slam the pin down on it. Completely misplaced rage, the usual. Arrogance, a sort of elitism she doesn't recognize as such, when she approaches an Avox because everyone else is making her want to set fire to the entire damn place. Her arm doesn't shoot out, but the motion with which she lifts her hand between herself and Aeri is just as sharp. Her fingers unfold to reveal the pin the Avox had adjusted the last time they'd met. "What you did last time...," her voice doesn't bite off as much as her expression would have foreshadowed it to. It's tight. But tightly controlled as well. Putting in an effort. "Could you fix my hair again. Please. It actually held when you did it and they're driving me nuts over there." ((I LOVE SENDING YOU THINGS, DON'T WORRY ABOUT HOW OFTEN I AM IN YOUR INBOX, I'M BLESSED BY GETTING TO HOP IN SOME MORE >:33333 also GOSH María having Aeri's pin is something I can NOT let go, it just had a way too violent effect on me, hope this is okay ♥))

SHE MIGHT HAVE BEEN STRIPPED OF HER TITLE, but does not mean the heiress has been beaten out of her. Not completely at least. Kang Aeri would throw herself into the river first before admitting that the brat lifting her hand is enough to make Aeri flinch. It turns out that avoxes are more than less of indentured servants and more like…property. It’s not like her family would go out of their way to rescue her anyways. Meaning one step out of line with any of the guests and it’s a guaranteed punishment of some kind. Usually physical.

Sometimes it’s worse.

( And if it is, Aeri does not tell her love. It’s better that way. Aeri refuses to let her see Aeri sink any lower. )

But still, Aeri bites the inside of her mouth, clipped fingernails digging into calloused palms. It’s atrocious: aside from the mandatory red gowns they’re all required to wear, all with the skirts loose ( she can’t even style it to her own liking ), avoxes aren’t even allowed to paint their nails. It’s as if they want the avoxes to be the walking versions of traffic cones.

Tragic. And infuriating really. For a country that values appearances above all else, one would think to elevate the style of their servants. One is only as stylish as their weakest link after all.

( Not that Aeri ever thought of them. Not until she became one of them. )

The brat reveals a hair pin though– Aeri’s hairpin. She remembers that one: sleek, gold, with a caprice of diamonds on the end sticking up. It was supposed to be worn the day she would have made her debut in the Capitol. 

Of course, that had to go to shit. And of course, her pin ( and now that Aeri thinks about it’s probably her dress too ), had to end up in the brat’s possession. Aeri glares at her. It should be Aeri in those clothes. Just watching the brat’s behavior over the course of the months, Aeri bets the 74th Victor would relish wearing an avox’s dress. The brat’s so obsessed with fighting anyone and everyone in the Capitol, why not let her descend to the people at her level? Most people in the districts don’t know how to appreciate luxury when they see it.

But alas, the brat still is a guest and if Aeri were to refuse, who knows what her ‘supervisor’ might do. She takes a step forward, one loud enough to reverberate across the floor, had she been in high heels, and snatches the hairpin out of the brat’s hand.

( Just because it’s an order doesn’t mean Aeri has to be nice about complying. )

She studies it. The diamonds shine in under the electric lights and the gold, it looks like it’s been polished. Not recently though; Aeri can see the fingerprints over the middle. It’s probably either the brat’s or her idiotic stylists– none of them would think to wash their hands before handling such luxury, would they?

Lips crease together in disapproval before she grabs the girl by the shoulder and spins her around. Now just looking at the pin just pisses Aeri off. Slotting the pin behind her own ear, Aeri gathers the brat’s messy– but what can Aeri do about it; the brat didn’t even bring a hairbrush along– hair into a ponytail. 

The bun forms itself under Aeri’s calloused fingers and once she knows it’s secure, she sticks her hairpin back in. A strand falls over the brat’s ear, much to Aeri’s annoyance, but she doesn’t try to fix that. The brat likes her hair looking half-assed anyways. 

Satisfied with her work, Aeri shoves the brat towards the dressing room once more although she’s quick to follow behind.

They better not be dressing María Castro in her designs too.

[stillresolved]

continued from here! / @ptternminds

IT’S ONE OF THOSE GUYS, AGAIN. The ones who think they’re being so intelligent and so insightful by being contrary. And cynical. Acting like it’s already over before it’s even started. Even outside of the tech sphere, they’re a dime a dozen aren’t they? Her lips press together as she racks for an appropriate response; she’s never been great at debates. 

Doesn’t it get exhausting after a while? Nell wants to ask instead. We’re not built to keep our heads down; that’s why doctors insist on practicing good posture.

“That’s only if you assume they don’t…go out of their way to find one another? Or that they, we, would forget about each other as soon as we’re separated. No one…no one gets left behind, no matter what.” Silence as she wipes the mug that’s already been cleaned. Thoroughly. “Do you ever get tired?” She finally blurts out. “I…I’d get sick. Of just thinking like that all the time.”

[stillresolved]

continued from here! / @ptternminds

CUSTOMER SERVICE HAS DONE WONDERS FOR THEIR RESTRAINT. Mind you, over the years, their temper has never mellowed, but what the job experience has done is teach Ga-ram to hold their tongue. Money and the loss of such tend to be great teachers. Even when they know they are right. If the customer is always considered right, then the acknowledgement of wrong-doing is meant to be an act of mercy.

Not that they think the potential client would actually consider herself in the wrong. Rich people, let alone supermodels, are seldom to self-consciousness beyond the shallow levels as far as they are aware. Even her act of considering her actions screams a facade.

Why would they reveal anything let alone their involvement with Judge Kang to someone like that? And it's not just their privacy that would be on the line here; Inguk's would be as well and that's at least one person who hasn't abandoned them left Seoul. Yet.

"I'm sure it wasn't," They say flatly. Just as they're sure she's still trying to poke her nose into their identity. They maintain a stone facade. At this point, it's not a matter of politeness so much as a matter of putting that subject to rest. The longer the subject lingers, the more time she'll have to stew on it, but if it's cut too quickly, the more memorable it will become in her mind. Neither are possibilities Ga-ram wants to deal with. An irritated sigh gets swallowed. Just like many, many other things in their life.

"You really think throwing money and connections at people is a good apology? Attorney Ko doesn't need any of that to do his job and I don't need bribery to do mine; if that's the kind of lawyer you're looking for you've come to the wrong place. We don't need television to practice the law and I certainly don't need that kind of attention again-" They shut their mouth. Shit, they said too much. "Do you want a coffee or tea, we have both. And water."

The door opens. Attorney Ko greets the client with an affable if not surprised smile. "Miss Ji, I'm surprised. I was expecting you later. I've just wrapped things up with my previous appointment so I can meet with you earlier. Save you the trouble of dealing with my assistant Lee Ga-ram here. Why don't you take a seat? I'll be with you in a minute."

[stillresolved]

continued from here! / @ptternminds

BEFORE THE BLACK KNIGHT, BEFORE ALFRED AND MYUNGDAE, SHE WAS A CYNIC. Sort of. One too many times getting burned by well, everything ( there's her father, there's her mother, old before her time, there's Sarah Jane and her falling, falling, and falling and– ), makes you tougher. Warier of the world. Maybe even insistent in her isolation. If they can't reach you, they can't hurt you, can they?

That's how she used to think.

And then she met Myungdae and Alfred. Myungdae who refuses to keep complacent, keeps on seeking different, better answers than the ones given and Alfred who might not know everything, but gives blankets, opportunities, and coffee anyways. How could she keep away in the presence of such gentleness?

And how can she remain despondent when there are people to feed, people to help ( with their computers, never their health, god, she still gets queasy when Alfred and Myungdae have fresh wounds ) and dishes to wash? Once upon a time, her teacher, a Buddhist monk said that everyone wants to save the world, but no one wants to help mom do the dishes. 

Nell thinks she finally understands what he meant.

 "I...I don't know," she admits. Because it's a question she asks herself too often: at the end of the day, is this supposed to change anything? Because there will always be people who are abused by the systems, people who are hungry, people who need, deserve better lives. If no one gets left behind, then how can they possibly help everyone?

Does Jing think about that too? Beyond the feather light touch and smiles, does it, life, ever weigh down on her? Maybe Nell has thought too little of her for showing too little upfront. 

( Myungdae told her once that it was her sincerity that kept them afloat; sure, he might give purpose, and Alfred might have the means, but she made it mean something. If their heart was not in it, then what was the point of starting in the first place? Ironically, it's that sincerity that perhaps has made Nell blind in the first place because she could not understand why anyone would be anything but genuine. )

"I can't tell you; it just kinda...happened to me? One minute I was living my life in London and then, I was here and there were people who needed me. I didn't want to abandon them." So she didn't. "That was the first time in a while that I could breathe easy again." And maybe she is being too presumptuous here with Jing, just as she has been with everything else she knows about Jing, but she takes her hand. Lightly. She'll ask more about Jing from now on. Try to actually listen more too and read beyond the ethereal expressions. Nell smiles, if not a tad roguishly. "It's addictive once you get it. You won't want to ever go back to way things were before."

A sheepish laugh. "At least, that's what I think. Sounds kinda dumb, huh?"

[stillresolved]

The lapis lazuli is finely reworked, a show of loyalty, and a heart Eunjae pretends to no longer possess, dangling from their ear and occasionally brushing against their neck if they move just the right way. Like now.

Eunjae makes the beeline the moment they see Annie, with the same disinterested nonchalance they'd brushed past every other victor in the room. None of their concern. They've seen too many who could have stood here instead, die. Sent some out there themselves. Annie, isolated and exploited, stands out like the indestructible buoy people describe her as. Eunjae grabs the glass a Capitolite is trying to push into her hand and pours bad champagne down their throat.

"Darn," a contorted face, the hint of a teasing smile. "Worst thing I've ever had." The empty glass is shoved back into the Capitolite's hand, Eunjae hardly turns to look. The fingers to curl around Annie's are gentle, a direct contrast to the aggression of clearing a space for Annie to be in. "This place has a fountain we can cool down next to. Come."

((personalized asks, hmmm >:3))

@ptternminds / unprompted.

THE SKIRT IS SMOOTH AGAINST HER PALMS. Blue and green silk beneath her fingers, it brushes against her ankles. The last one spilled onto the floor around her, trapping her feet in the center; they said that wouldn’t happen again. Not because it was inconvenient for her to move around, but because such luxurious fabric didn’t deserve to be trampled on by the masses. Still, Annie loathes to admit it, but if there is one thing she can appreciate about the Capitol, it’s the fact her stylists never put her in restrictive clothing.

( She also knows they struggled to figure out how to…market her: how do you style a mad girl, they kept asking themselves. We can’t go with an asylum look; that would offend the younger generations, damn snowflakes, they said. It would have been easier if they called her the Drowning Girl, another one joked. They ended up going with something similar- something about a drowned mermaid? ) 

Of course, if Annie had it her way, she wouldn’t be here, let alone the Capitol. It’s funny, the way people assume that following her games, she would be scared of the water. That she would never take another step into the ocean. Why would she be scared? To float is as natural as breathing air to Annie and if there was a way she had to go, it would have been a kindness to be surrounded by the water. The water has no morality; it only flows, flows, and flows.

Not unlike the shrill words keep coming out of the Capitolite’s mouth. She doesn’t quite know what they’re supposed to be talking although that might mostly be because she 

Actually, it might be a kindness now to drown than being here. With this Capitolite man who keeps going on and on, something about District Four and how he’s braved his way there many times before, but she’s trying to focus more on both the glass he keeps trying to push into her hands and the other hand the keeps brushing over her shoulder. It’s getting harder and harder for her to decide which hand she wants farther away from her. It’s easier to wish she could be anywhere but here, somewhere far away like home or even further than that-

Bells jingle. Something blue in the midst of black cuts in front of her. 

She blinks.

It’s them.

The one person she always looks for in the Capitol.

They are quick to dispose of her conversation partner and even faster to take hold of her hand. The breath Annie didn’t realize she was holding comes out. She nods, following Eunjae’s lead.

–––

Eunjae is not home. Eunjae is not the water; they probably have never even seen the ocean for themselves and in this lifetime, they probably never will. It saddens Annie to know that– to know that Eunjae will never see the expanse of sea-green water beneath a sky that stretches beyond the horizon, will never taste the salt in their mouth, will never feel the sand between their toes. 

And yet. And yet, when Annie is home, Eunjae is whom she thinks of most, whom she wants to talk to most. From wondering if they would like the taste of fresh fish to collecting seashells from the shore to show them to polishing more rocks to give them. Sometimes it accumulates to Annie even looking forward to going back to the Capitol.

( Does that make her a traitor to her district? She doesn’t dare to admit that to anyone. Not that anyone would listen to her and not write it off as madness. )

Outside the ballroom is dark and cool, an array of greenery lying in wait beyond the lightshow of the mansion. As it turns out, the mansion also includes a magnificent garden that is usually used to hold the host’s biweekly tea parties. Usually the garden would be open for the nighttime guests, as the host used fireflies to light the area instead of those ‘boring lamplights’, but one of the trees had been uprooted last week, ruining the host’s flowerbeds. Their avoxes were still working to get both of those things fixed, apparently.

It still doesn’t explain how Eunjae knew this place would be unoccupied today of all days. but it makes no difference to Annie. Even if the night air sends goosebumps over her arms ( her stylists said she didn’t need a cardigan for tonight), she brightens at the sound of running water first and letting go of Eunjae’s hand, drifts over to the fountain. Hands dip into the fountain’s basin before she kicks her sandals off into the grass. Carefully ( or maybe not so ), she lifts her skirt and steps into the fountain. Annie closes her eyes and sighs.

It’s not the ocean, but it is something. Something like home. Even the light of the moon shining down is familiar.

Footsteps follow her and giddy and a little embarrassed too, she realizes Eunjae has been watching her. Eunjae who walks towards her, not a thread from their black coat nor a smidge of their facepaint out of place. And their earring, lapis lazuli dangles close by like a bell. Annie looks at them, pensively.

How odd, that people insist on calling them the ‘Jeoseungsaja of Panem’. Death itself personified- an unfeeling entity that brings the end of life without question, without warning. That’s the kind of person Panem says Eunjae is. A person without any emotions, any feelings.

The thing is, they’re wrong. Because on this chilly summer night where there are only the fireflies to bear witness, Eunjae is not Death.

Here, Eunjae is the MOON. 

They stop at the edge of the fountain, watching Annie with their hands in their pockets. Annie turns to them, water soaking the bottom of her skirt. “Thank you,” she says finally. “For taking me here.”

She takes a hold of Eunjae’s hands and squeezes them. “Join me?”

( One day, she'll find a place where both the water and Eunjae will be. Together. )

[stillresolved]

🚩🚩🚩 GIB

@ptternminds / send me a 🚩 and i'll share... prompt.

muses are not people and should not be written as such. and what i mean by that is that while there technically is no such thing as too much character development, it is possible to have a character with lots of hcs but still be underdeveloped if those hcs don't contribute in some way to the character's overall arc. people in rl are contradictions and don't necessarily have to have likes and dislikes that match up...characters, however, i do think need to be consistent to some degree in order for their characterization to remain consistent. i guess what i'm trying to say is that when i say i look for character development in the blogs i follow, i'm not necessarily looking for quantity so much as quality...less of lots of character development and more of tight character development.

so many people talk about how they want to have that one partner who you can have like 48290348 ships with and talk well in the wee hours of the morning...i always wonder if they realize, like those kinds of connections usually don't appear overnight? like, of course there needs to be a spark, but it takes time and patience to build that kind of trust and familiarity and at least in my case, with the ones i have tons of dynamics, it took months ( sometimes even years ) of following to even make that spark...

this does not apply to everyone who writes on here, BUT...a good chunk of tumblr writers would not make it in the professional writing world/publication side. for one thing, writing prose can be very different from writing rp and even rp drabbles. prose needs a plot, major events happening where rp threads and drabbles don't have to have them or tend to write the moments around those events. and two, you need to be open to feedback and criticism of your work even if it does sting. i'm not saying you need to be a doormat to people who give bad criticism/are straight up mean, but i have seen way too many writers on here who are just?? either egotistical about their writing to the point they're can't see the flaws in their own work or so insecure about their writing, they go seeking only praise...neither of those groups of people will ever actually work to improve their craft. and thus over the years their writing never grows. the process of publishing is one of critique, revision, and tons of rejection; neither of those kinds of writers would make it out there.