𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐃 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇

𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐘𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐀 𝐖𝐀𝐘 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐈𝐓𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐅 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐒 ;   she, the well-molded saint, giggled rather at its execution, like a dove seeing its cage opened.  it was a sign to spread the wings, and what better way to have done so than with a fellow lady in her twenties ?  (  that be, at the expense of expectation to be shattered like a vase and to ignore the mess. )  “ well … there could be something i’d like to ask of you, if i may.  have a cup of tea with me !  it is not often that i encounter the opportunity to converse with someone leisurely. ”

❛ the honor is all mine, lady lunafreya. ❜ a bow followed her statement, though it was a bit hasty in her excitement–––– royal protocol hadn't exactly been a necessity on the road. ❛ if you need anything at all, please don't hesitate to ask. ❜

  *  𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂    :    feelings.

𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒.    being unable to stop smiling. laughter. bear hugs. happy tears. waving arms around. dancing. contently sighing. eyes twinkling. laughter lines. childlike playfulness. skipping. talking more. affection. cracking more jokes than usual. gesturing more when talking. higher pitched voice. squealing. jumping around. clapping.

𝐒𝐀𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐒.    tearing up. self-hugging. one-arm cross. an aching chest. scratchy throat. a runny nose. turning away. deep breaths. quivery smiles. crying. infantile sobbing. hands gripping each other or an object. covering mouth. puffy eyes. eyes appear red. voice breaking. a distant or empty stare. monotone voice. asking for comfort. faking a smile. crumbling. shaking. whimpering. depression. abusing an unhealthy habit. withdrawing from others. big teary eyes. doing something even if it could hurt them.

𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.    furrowed brows. baring teeth. passive-aggressive comments. avoiding eye contact. sarcasm. headache. sore muscles. hiding clenched fists. irritability. jumping to conclusions. raising voice. going silent. demanding immediate action. keeping it all in until exploding. body tensing. making risky decisions. middle finger.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑.    wanting to flee or hide. what-ifs. images of what-could-be flashing in mind. uncontrollable trembling. rapid breathing. screaming. a skewed sense of time. irritability. keeping silent. denying fear. turning away from the cause. pretending to be brave. nail-biting. lip-biting. scratching skin. a joking tone but a voice that cracks. fainting. insomnia. panic attacks. exhaustion. substance abuse. tics. rushing adrenaline. face draining of color. hair lifting on the back of the neck. feeling rooted to the spot. making body as small as possible. staring but not seeing. crying. a shrill voice. whispering. gripping something or someone. stuttering. flinching at noises. pleading.

𝐄𝐗𝐇𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍.    constantly yawning. blurring words together. dark circles or lines under eyes. mood swings. hallucinations. calling people by the wrong name. dizziness. denying they’re tired. slow blinking. trouble concentrating. stumbling. leaning on a doorframe for support. sluggish movements. falling asleep someplace that isn’t a bed. becoming irritated by the smallest things. “I’m awake, I’m fine.”. shaking so bad they spill their drink. fall asleep in their clothes. lay their head on the table because they’re so tired. passing out.

Tagged by :    @reginrokkr​ Tagging :  @asterites  /  @asteriskheart  ( aera uwu )  /  @entropyes​ /  @battleshot​  + anyone who wants to and has the time

The Burmese Harp (1956) dir. Kon Ichikawa.

𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐃𝐎𝐖 𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐇 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐈𝐓𝐒 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐆𝐎𝐃𝐋𝐘 𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐈𝐍.    dawn-gold burned its way into lineage, honey lit in cosmogenic lustre 'pon the fingertips of freyja-women.  gullveig had not borne the first mouthpiece's name, yet they would christen her so, anointed as substitute for two, under the parasite of night and daemonic hunger.  wingless and graceless grandeur but a phantomic mirror    (  crestfallen selene knew only the fall )    their chins yet were situated with proud poise.     " my troubles are that of my people.  how shall i guide them out of the dark alone, when the gods still sleep and our chosen king has left us?  how am i to bear this...?  "

Laments and prayers alike ceased not to reverberate within this fallen seraph’s mind even if her wings were torn away and abandoned to drown in her shame and reduced to a residue bound to be forgotten by time. ❝Speak thy mind. I can sense something troubling thee.❞ Of course, that includes hearing the burdens of the Oracle even though the maiden of light might not believe it to be possible.

@moonichor ⚚

𝑺𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑶𝑹𝑰𝑻𝑬𝑺 ( formerly moonichor and deacruor ) : a private / extremely selective writing blog portraying 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐀𝐅𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐀 𝐍𝐎𝐗 𝐅𝐋𝐄𝐔𝐑𝐄𝐓 𝐨𝐟 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐘 𝐗𝐕.  this blog will be active at my own leisure and therefore is set on permanent semi-hiatus. first established sep. 2017. loved by steph, early 30s.  psd adjusted.

𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐄𝐒 // 𝐋𝐔𝐍𝐀'𝐒 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒

𝐈 𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐀𝐃 𝐑𝐔𝐈𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐅 𝐌𝐘 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 :  heavily inspired by greek, norse and in-game mythology, luna is an incarnation of selene, personification of the moon and sister of eos, whereas i connect luna’s abilities with the norse freyja, goddess of love, war, seidr and gold.  in my portrayal, luna primarily lacks romantic feelings for noctis  and leans more toward familial love instead.  there can and might be exceptions, depending on the plot.  your muse can feel free to make assumptions based on luna's and noctis' arranged engagement, but on an out of character / meta level, this is a relevant detail.

𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐖 :

be warned that english is not my mother tongue and my prose is rather  meta-heavy.  if you reckon you would be bothered by that, i advise against following.

i welcome pre-established relationships, plotted or improvised threads and duplicates.

i have written luna on and off since 2017, with which i imply that some ideas are adjusted to the most recent updates and others are simply not.  

my archive of ships, past and present, is pretty much extensive, given the years that have gone by, and i do keep a ( one-sided ) ship-exclusive policy in place.  this is why i am very, very tentative towards new romances and do not follow a blog for the purpose thereof.  if i ever propose a close bond while plotting, it is mostly meant with platonic or familial conceptualization in mind.

if you participate in callout culture, please tag it properly.  do not  involve me or send me callouts unless someone committed a crime and  violated a law.  additionally, i have no patience for trivial drama, and  i avoid people at my own discretion, when i see fit.

blogs / fandoms i have little to no interest in and will likely not interact, unless you’re a close friend or writing partner of mine :   genshin / honkai impact ;  anything marvel  --- list is subject to expansion.

a reason for me to soft or hard block is seeing AI generated content on my dashboard ; these include generated music, writing, images. but also the mere mention / advertisement of / linking to generating products or apps will result in a soft block. i do not need those here.

mature content is bound to be presented here.  i will not censor potential themes such as violence, cosmic / body / psychological horror, corruption, religious imagery, trauma and mental illness, war as well as death.  while i am not particularly fond of erotic interaction, i avoid blogs with minor admins regardless.  please, do not expect mutual following if you are below  21.

𝐃𝐈𝐀𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐓𝐒 .    //    SEL ACCEPTING .

‘ i seek scandal and low companionship. ’     //    @leadingmcn

𝐏𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐄’𝐒 𝐓𝐀𝐔𝐍𝐓 𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀 𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐅𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐀𝐓’𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐁 𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐓 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓’𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐏 ;    and neither seethed its owner with scornfulness, although this could have been a matter of personal grudge. through wide-open windows leaked nocturnal breeze, beddings all undone and disorderly, pearls and gems scattered across invaded tilings ;  those were witnesses to a criminal scene which succeeded not according to its plunderish schemes.  this lady’s heritage was both sheltered and targeted, her belongings rumoured and sought after, and within merely a question of ' when ' would she fall victim to games to this extend --- this much she could fathom and for this much she prepared. 

one night, to her dismay, she failed to read the warning signs : the silence of owls, the flutter of crows, the peering balcony-glares shadowing behind her tender shoulder before she rested ‘pon her familiar mattress, all that ignored only for them to wake her with a rustling of treasures.  the following miniscule wrestle amounted to a moment ‘twixt oddly opposing personas of parallel nobility, and the grin of yours ; a mischief, socially offensive like any other theatric trickster in tales, pinned against ornamental walls.   “ and you concluded to find those by trespassing my private chamber ?  well, at the very least, you are an intriguing character, albeit a thieving one. ”    cold jest, dry lips, bruised dignity. lungs may be pressed by inconvenience, but her hands, firmly clenched 'round weapon's pole, shan’t afford to waver nor shiver.   

“ you have accomplished the scandal ; now, the latter explains the pitiful deeds. ”

▬ ❝ On my honour as Oracle, I will not rest until the darkness is banished from our world and the light is restored.

darling moon

* moon moon has appeared ! what to do ?

brush off

marry

confess

kiss on the cheek

  *  //  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. ”