𝐆𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐂

  *  //  𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 .​

𝘼𝙯𝙪𝙧𝙚𝙤𝙪𝙨  𝙤𝙥𝙩𝙞𝙘𝙨  𝙜𝙖𝙯𝙚  𝙪𝙣𝙩𝙤  𝙩𝙝𝙚  𝙘𝙤𝙗𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙙  𝙘𝙞𝙩𝙮  𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙚𝙩𝙨,      the  sun  beams    mockingly,    citizens  gathering  in      fear  and  concern    for  that  which  will  become  of  their    beloved  city.    Prompto  was  merely  a  pawn  in  the  game.  Still,  if  he  could  make      any      difference…    (  would  it    make    a  difference  ??    )

Just  beyond  the  window  he  dissociates  from,  a  small  patch  of  flowers,  a  yellow  hue,  but  too  far  off  that  Prompto  couldn’t    distinctively    label  them.  Swaying  this  way  and  that,  carefree,  petals  caressed  by  gentle  breeze.  Oh,      what  a  gift  that  must  be.      To  be      free.

𝑨  𝒎𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕  𝒐𝒇  𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒏𝒊𝒕𝒚.

    They    deserved  that;    he    deserved  that.  They      survived.      Was  that  enough?  Was  it    fair    that  they  were  to  live  when  many  others  had    perished?  

He  could  not  have  predicted  how  long  the  Oracle  had  been  witness  to  his  sighs  and  exhales.  Stance  mostly  relaxed,  hands  in  pockets,  elbows  bent  slightly.  Every  few  minutes  would  he  shift,  unable  to  stay  still  for  long;  he  was    far    too    anxious.  

            Though  something  made  him  look  over  his  shoulder,  lips  dividing  and  shifting  to  address  her  once  he  acknowledged  her  presence.        ❝      —  Lunafreya!  I    uh…    Sorry  –    didn’t  see  you  standing  there  ….      ❞    A  posture  of  respect,  appropriate  for  royalty,  this  to  be  their  first  encounter  that  wasn’t  amidst  the  masses.  

It  was  as  if  she  could  see  the  inner  sketchings  of  his  mind,  scribbled  on  notebooks  that  were      scrapped    and    discarded,      never  to  be  considered  again.  

  ❛    𝑤𝑒  𝑎𝑙𝑙  𝑑𝑖𝑒  𝑎𝑙𝑜𝑛𝑒.    ❜        @ereipiia    / @moonichor  +    luna

  An  unnerving  noise.    Momentarily  paralysed  in      shock.      And  as  he  tries  to  minimize  the  appearance  of  rudeness,  his  lips  meet  in  a  thin  line.  Briefly  looking  outside,  once  again,  he  lightly  bites  the  inside  of  his  cheek.  No  doubt      he  knew      what  she  was  stating  was  true.  

      ❝  …  Suppose  none  of  us  want  our  deaths  to  be  in  vain,  though…      ❞ 

𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 ,  𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐁𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐙𝐄𝐃 𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇.    rightfully so, she pensively inferred, by mustering visions of the demanding sea :    its harrowing, pitiless currents were to extract sylva’s daughter from the living world, and edged alone at glistening patterns was (im)mortality preordained to hunt her, the blue pigment of sylleblossom weeds pressed against her cheeks.  most ironic, therefore, to find a city, as illustrious as the altissian grandeur, to be so intimately surrounded by aquatic chant and the under-worldly domain of a serpentine goddess, whose anticipated waking hour prompted an abrupt halt to the peace of its dwellers ;  gave the common salt-flavored air a concerning density.  

as per historic routine, man loved his gods, until he feared them.

fear, however, was an unavailable luxury in close proximity with the impending tipping-point of diurnal scales.  and what good was fear, if it instilled no power to prevent eos’ waning ?  what good was fear, if it only petrified ?  yet, we shan’t let it be forgotten that fading and blending into obsidian blood guaranteed the end of the road for all oracles, from first to last  —  produced to alleviate the world, except their own person.  ever since life paraded itself as a condition of endurance, she hardened the heart and numbed her lachrymal reflexes to the certain and uncertain.      (  endure endure endure    /    live live live  —  akin to a vista of flowers outside the torrent’s edge ;  akin to those flowers under this frame, visibly frail, yet persistent against ramuh’s breath.  )    

“ … ”    her silhouette but a half-ghostly husk, vague on the window glass, brooding in the mirror, tugged between alive and wordlessly falling apart.  with sharp thought, her own quietude ceased to extend itself, and instead allowed the unspoken to be spoken.     “ i concur  —  to vanish unfulfilled and meaninglessly is an undesirable outcome. ”    though admitted with rare personal honesty, it came with the cost of regret.  the occasion to meet a sweet, old friend ought not to be besmirched with doom and gloom.  click of heels met tiling, while the somberness re-sculpted itself to absolute indifference in the face of events she expected but had yet to occur.  an indifference she mastered exceptionally well with the petite mask of a friendly facade.    

“ did i startle you earlier ?  my apologies.  it was very inappropriate of me. ”

Details: Portrait of Urania, 19th century, British School.

But where was my body? Where was I in these words? What of this belonged to me?

Jasminne Méndez, from Night-Blooming Jasmin(n)e: Personal Essays and Poetry (via lifeinpoetry)

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐓 ,  𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐓 , 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 , 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 , 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓.    endurance.  to not scratch, or rub, or break the stitches, to not tear the wound all open once more.  to let it be, and let it settle, and let it become part of a body.  the body which cradled the memory.  the memory that ought not be removed. and herein :  the nudge, her test, the voice, clear as crystal.  a refusal, on her part, to be silenced or to accept silence. “ now now, it is rather impolite to let a lady be left with crumbs and assume the rest of your train of thought.  go ahead.  speak your mind. ”

healing  and  enduring   .   .   .   to  him  ,  two  totally  different  concepts  . 

❛ still  .  i  just   -   ❜   [   .   .   .   ]   ❛  never  mind  .  ❜

👁️👄👁️ excuse me sis, do you have the time to talk about our lord and savior : bhunivelze. 👁️👄👁️

luna vc : why yes sis, i serve him 👁️👄👁️

The Burmese Harp (1956) dir. Kon Ichikawa.

𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃.    t’was between sisters where angels fell on deaf ears, where their choirs ceased so abruptly it rendered time breathless, drowned out by humming bird songs.  as seemingly humble nothings meant everything amid cosmic malediction, what else could she do than accept sweet offers, which may, one day, stand still at a moment's notice ?    “ how could i say no ?  i am in the mood for a little adventure today, and this book can certainly wait.  to what wondrous place will you guide me, i wonder ? ”

It’s not the whisper of a hymn or a hallowed prayer, but the breath of a dying melody curled along the oracle’s tongue in a hushed hum.  ❝ Would you have time to partake in a sightseeing walk with me, Luna ?  There’s a lovely spot not far from the town. It is but a short carriage ride away. ❞ — @moonichor

  *  //  𝐀𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐒​.

           “   And what model are you supposed to be, huh? Jeez …  ”   Averting his gaze after staring perhaps a second too long. In truth, he admired the increasing adaptability of these androids – Though still rather apprehensive. In the absence of the glowing light on her temple, he might have believed she was real.   “  Well? don’t just stand there … go … make me coffee .. or somethin’…  ”   His voice trailed off, as he fell back into reading notes about the current investigation on his computer screen.

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐁𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐃 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 :    objectively real, a mathematical existence encoded into automaton-parts.  pulsating electricity wired within each component, tangible enough to comprehend a silhouette outlining a nothing-lady, not organic enough for authenticity of skin or hair or nails.  she was real, and she was not.  prepared for a brusque welcome on the first day for this very reason, with a friendly smile she artificially countered mannerisms of sore origins.  raw tune, as she noted, betrayed a burdened mind.    “ i am a system assistant for data management  –  RK 400  –  but i do not only help you keep track of your files ;  my calculation features are optimized for this field of work specifically to form predictions of criminal activity and civil unrest according to said collected data.  i also offer medical care, if necessary.  hereby, i regret to inform you, lieutenant, it is not included in my programming to serve beverages, but i shall request one cup of coffee for you.  perchance, that will lift your spirits for the rest of the day. ”

👍 gib hc pls uwu

☆.*･｡ﾟ  𝐃𝐘𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈𝐂 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃-𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍

Send 👍 for a random headcanon I have about our muses.@moonichor universe : versus xiii

1 )  when they were little, stella would often follow luna around and mimic everything she did. from picking flowers to memorizing religious, heck she even started wearing white when she was a child because her pretty lunar sister did. naturally, if luna was to given attention to any other kid close to stella’s age, the star princess would surely sulk. needless to say, as children they were still pretty close to one another. i’m sure there were times where they shared the same bed and ate sweets together when no one was watching. not to mention the many joyous little pranks they might do teaming up against their older brother. as little children, they would definitely play dress up together and talk about their fairy-tales happy endings (clearly not yet understanding how unfair life will one day be ). but nevertheless, before stella’s accidents they were very close and super happy as siblings.

2 ) unfortunately all good things must end, and as you know the two sisters would eventually be separated. luna and ravus likely did not know that stella woke up from her coma until months afterwards. and even then, it wasn’t until they saw her again that they were cautioned not to bring up the subject of their parents out of fear she would break down and repress even more memories. it was likely a very difficult first reunion and it was obvious this stella was not the same little stella that used to follow her sister around. nevertheless, stella would try her best to get close to her siblings and learn all that she could about them. even if stella is having a hard time adjusting herself, she would try to get luna to cheer up and smile because her sister is much more beautiful when her lips matches the crescent of the moon. she might not be able to give luna the same flower as she did when she was younger, but the first thing stella painted for luna was that of her favorite flower. she still remembers.

3 ) once stella tried to get luna to be more tech-savy, insisted that emails are much more faster and even tried to get luna to use the most modern phone. luna, however, preferred the tenebrae nokia traditional phone that lacked the modern functions. needless to say, stella’s attempt to make luna more “up-to-date” failed completely and out of pettiness stella would instead write correspondence to luna rather than just call her. hilariously enough, luna is completely fine with it and probably prefers the handwritten sentiments rather then the digital messages. letters from stella consist mainly of her complaining about her day to day, the most ridiculous over-exaggeration, and frankly i’m sure even luna would face palm at her sister’s terrible lack of financial control.

4 ) stella and luna totally shit-talks about people lol.

5 ) once stella tried to teach luna how to paint the dog form of pryna, and when they showed it to gentiana, gentiana complimented luna’s cloud.

6 ) the two of them are quite protective of each other, and anyone who courts their sister must first pass a few of their criteria. stella, unfortunately does not play fair, and gives anyone who looks at her sister the hardest time ever. she may not be as bad as ravus, but she is certainly his sister lol.

7 ) these two sister love each other unconditionally and would in fact sacrifice each other’s happiness so that the other can be happy. 

8 ) lol at that realization that these two are pawns to two asshole king of gods ---- who probably have beef since the cosmos cant handle two asshole king of gods who wants to control everything. so we’re just pretending that everyone is totally okay and that it won’t end so terribly right. nothing bad is going to happen right ? bahamut and bhunivelze can totally co-exist and not drag their favorite pawns into depressing stuff... right..

9 ) number 5 is my favorite.