Moon Moon Has Appeared ! What To Do ?

                                                         come back                                                    even as a shadow                                                      even as a dream

@hikarizora​  :   She's going to flatter her uwu

“ and i am humbled, truly.  but who am i to accept flattery when you are deserving of it yourself ?  if i may be so bold to admit, you are rather beautiful. “

Lady Lunafreya

is there any other muse in this fandom you RP?

* MUNDAY ASKS .

5. is there any other muse in this fandom you RP?

ffxv-specific, i write leviathan on a sideblog when i feel like it, but it can also count for the overall ff universe. other than her, for ff fandom as a whole, i currently don't have other blogs, or at least i don't recall that i have any as of now.

— Mary Oliver

" 𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐀 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐍 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍𝐒𝐆𝐔𝐀𝐑𝐃 ; may our cooperation be a fruitful one. " // @starshcwer

  *  //  𝐇𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐃𝐀𝐗𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑​ .

“ I cant exactly FIGHT those things and come out unscathed. I think it’s the BEST plan, all things considered, ” he offered, attempting to sound convincing. As skilled as he was, he was not SKILLED enough to hold his own against the demons that roamed the fields come NIGHTFALL. ASTRAL of ascended plane, LADY LUNA was voice of element and deity alike. A voice for the broken, a voice for the powerful - a voice for the ROYALS. So much representation settled upon shoulders, yet woman of grace had never once faltered. Hiro, young as he was, had NEVER met someone who braved the storm with NO weapon ( at least not one like his own ). He knew he didn’t belong near them - THEY that led the masses through the dark and represented hope in PHYSICAL form. Not ignorant, yet not fully immersed, little hunter toed the line between GUARDIAN and PAID PROTECTION. Though hurting for Gil in every sense of the concept, demand for coin was hardly spoken. He had offered to help free of ANY charge. Someone has to help. Distant words that advised, even from the ghosts of the past - just another whisper on the wind. Large eyes roamed the SKIES before finally landing on distant hue of HAVEN’S safe circlet. Polearm was shifted across shoulder, gloved digits curling tight in metallic grip.

“ Yeah - looks like it isn’t too FAR. I’ll lead the way. The FOG is gonna roll through soon, so stick close… ma’am. ” Manners - she wasn’t some plebeian like him. “ I don’t exactly have the BEST accommodations, but I’ve got a tent you can use, if you want ? I haven’t used it in a while - I more or less SLEEP tucked away somewhere. Just better HUNTING that way. ” He was silent for a moment before turning his head, looking over his shoulder to the other. Curiosity burned at the edges of his mind and he couldn’t help but ASK. “ So, I don’t really know how it WORKS - all of this traveling and communication. Isn’t it REALLY important that you make pacts with all of THEM ? I mean - you won’t get in TROUBLE for getting some help around here… will you ? ”

𝐈𝐍𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒 , 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐇 𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄𝐒 , 𝐃𝐈𝐃 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐆𝐎 𝐔𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐂𝐄𝐃.    instead, it intensified the petrichor of trampled grass and the foot-printed earth, it levitated the rustle of foliage stirred by nesting robins, and amplified the wilderness’ presence.  as the distant, dusk-washed rocks howled with wariness for incoming hours, it should be clear without any mention, that she’d rather see a child safe and sound in its own house, than be company to a patron saint whose trails attracted gunpowder-bite and cosmogonic peril.  we could neither avoid questions about parental supervision in need of answers, such as :    why are you alone ?  what about your family ?  even so, what she failed to deny was the courage deeply ingrained within the intensity of your resolve, illustrated by the grip around weaponry ;  the potential to become someone greater, demonstrated by action in lieu of empty words.  who had then been so small, she predicted, would grow to a paragon for the next generation of children to aspire to.  and in identifying it so, it reminded her, ceaselessly, that hesitation must never corrupt her own gallantry.

whilst ascending the adorned ridge, she began :    “ you assume correctly.  every god and goddess must wake to assemble for the light of the crystal.  the world and the chosen need their aid, and their work plays a vital part in maintaining the riddance of chaos when the advent of triumph delivers us to dawn.  whether we help each other a little to achieve this, will, undoubtedly, not anger them.  fret not over any consequences thereafter. ”    haven-runes illuminated in reaction to arrival, aglow in cyan beneath a climbing heel, hasty to build a protective dome.  as her magic sparked fire within its respective boundaries, she did ponder, a dainty finger supported her chin.    “ i suggest we build the tent.  it is you who deserves to rest comfortably, after all, brave as you were today.  oh, additionally  —  there is little need for formalities.  you may call me, simply, luna. ”

* 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 . // @re-no

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀𝐋𝐖𝐀𝐘𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆 , 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐅 𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐆𝐄𝐃 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐓 , 𝐎𝐅 𝐒𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐌𝐁𝐒 , 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊𝐒.    it was always the trails of her fingerprints, evidence of applying the remedies upon open wounds crying another resin’s ooze.  always sitting close and being accompanied by herbal scents or alcohol bottles.  nursing was her own love language.  adore her, adorn her with the stains of your regret, the dried smear of radiant spider-lily bloom.  by her sneaky beneficence did honey-gold glisten all over the sullying hues, forced itself onto your pallor with a warmth that, she had forgotten, would prompt your outlines to instinctively jolt.  ‘ ey, luna ! ‘  you blurted out, your treated shoulder flinched, your spine tensed up in a straight line, your brain rang the alarm for what careless thing she attempted.  ‘ i told you not to do that. ‘  and she blinked thrice, pursed her lips in surprise, chuckled then, picturing your pout turned towards the wall, away from her, away from the selfless creature she was supposed to portray.  

and it’s been difficult to look at, has it not ?  difficult to refuse it, to disdain it.  that terrible, angelic, woe-devouring thing that would conveniently not memorize your wishes.  you, at her mercy, and she possessed too easy an unspeakable power, unnatural but right just how it should be and how it always was.  it was always the patching, the undressing and dressing of a burning spot, the mercy at which the beast growled beneath her hands caressing the beauty marks.  “ oh, pray forgive me.  a force of habit, you know.  it is not easy to keep in mind that you’d prefer to suffer and complain. ”  all the remark in good jest, but it failed at convincingly delivering the actual apology.  ( please, turn to me again when all is said and done, i did not mean it.  )  

would you keep your anger in your mouth for the next hour, for the rest of the day, had she succeeded to take your pain ?  why were you so greedy with it, what did you hoard it for ?  hurt was no treasure, it was just hurt.  or was the treasure golden and you did not want it ?  never one to be able to rationalize the agreement between you and her, the side-note embedded between the lines, she simply sighed and kept tending to the cuts serving as the cause of refuge sought in the most empty inn to be booked within the next radius of a mile.  the sun now hung low to the point it dimmed out the reminders.  she raised from the couch and played god, the candlewick on, the darkness off.  she sat back again behind the subject who did not ask for more miracles, and after brief inspection of her hard work would a larger band aid be seized, planted over the marrings.  the long pause nestled within the dialogue fell apart with a delayed answer, whispering  ‘ it’s not about that. ’  and she, smiling, said :  “ i know …  i know. ” of course. of course, it's not about that. it's you not wanting her to hurt. it's you wanting the hurt to be a one-way-street.

we have known it as second nature to this woe-devouring thing for her to adore and be adored.  in truth, it frightened her to not see the limits of it.  it frightened her to have seen it in the spilt blood she dreamed of, it frightened her to see so much red that was both hers, on paper, and not.  it frightened her so much she would let her lips sink to your pain and hurt and ached to still take it but — she kissed it worse, instead.  she hurt you more, and would keep hurting you and realized what she had done, realized that the stain of regret would've always been red, oozing from the patch, limbs stitched together, her cold cheek pressed against your shoulder-blade, her heart slipping from her open mouth.  “ it won’t happen again. ” 

please, turn to face me, will you ?  even when i lie.

" 𝐀𝐇 , 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐀𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐃. how was your day, sephiroth ? would you indulge me with your tales ? " // @wingedcruelty