" 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐄𝐓

" 𝐈 𝐀𝐌 𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈 𝐀𝐒𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐈𝐒 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐊 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐖𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐅𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐎 𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐀𝐍 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 ; considering the implications. i shan't hold it against you if you ever decide to withdraw from our deal. i wanted you to know that. " // @hellseng ( dante. )

last night / the moon was trying to fall from the sky / none of the experts knew how to explain it / said / SOMETIMES THINGS JUST WANT TO LEAVE / and i think i understood / sometimes love just isn’t enough / sometimes even the people that know it best can’t say why

excerpt of The Moon Disappeared Last Night, Angelea Lowes (via angelealowes)

  *  //  𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐊𝐑​ .

Melancholia has cruel tendencies of engendering grief at its worst. While Dáinsleif insists that too much time has past for him to remember his youngest years, he is no stranger of that sentiment. Of times when he did not know any better and this world wasn’t as grotesque. Of times where fantasies of the acceptance of a romance long gone that do not pertain to him— alas, they still seeped through his senses as if they were his own. If only he reminisced any at all. ❝I would not.❞ The pain that emanates from the lunar sacredness before him failed to go unperceived by him. Though his soul would say otherwise, there is naught but sorrow all that comes from reliving the past— the memories. For better or for worse, Dáinsleif is an expert of reliving until shattering himself whole. ❝It is human to desire for something that was better in one’s life.❞ Ah, but the duality that is so palpable in her words pains him to the very core. Pray tell, child of the moon. Were you given a chance to choose, what would it be? Your past of that whom you are meant to be? ❝…Tell me. Would you find any solace if you could pursue any of that which you seek from your past?❞

𝐀 𝐖𝐄𝐃𝐆𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐒𝐇 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐘.    it waited patiently to cleave apart those dimensions and detach her from impossibilities.  yet, the waking dreams were unrestrained, and the wish as endless as the slumber of the cold aria moon.  lofty, and mystical, and strange.  she presumed it came with age, old and weathered as she was, a forsaken temple of paled limestone.  while, yes, we can call it all ‘human desire’, which at first it was — regardless, she must have been transcending such, if personal longings and conceptualizations of a wistful god fashioned her to a woman-clutter of contradictions.    “ solace ?  that’s very uncertain.  perchance, it could temporarily numb the sorrow with ‘what if’s’, but are such things not prone to repetition ?  do they not worsen it all ?  you know this better than any other. “    how long did it haunt her to intermingle and blend with other losses ?  where did they end and she begin ?  for how long would she wander both asleep and awake like an avatar, intoxicated by too much lunacy to bear ?    “ whether that which was lost could return to us, or we return to it, eventually we would lose it again.  i might not be strong enough to endure it many more times after piecing myself together.  i am... not like you, dáinsleif. ”

Victoria Chang, Obit

* 𝐎𝐍 𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐎𝐑 , 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 .

@epokhas ( kazuhira ) sent bitter love to the sis.

𝐀 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐗 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 , 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒 : the act of peeling oranges for someone, the act of consideration for her, but the orange was not quite ripe, and its flavor, sour. this abstract and calloused kind of adoration, peppered with your passionate protection, wrapping around its embittered nexus, it grew with time. paradoxically. it reminded her of oceanic love, old and containing all its abominations, making room for more unlovable monsters. sulfur, gun-powder, the phlebotomy of oils and fossil fuels spilled into each tide promising its back and forth, machismo in its ebbs, the flow of empty-carved flatteries. pollution propped up each huff and puff from your pouting mouth. a pouting mouth that did not articulate what it meant. it just sighed for your false messiah and the heavens fell mute to his self-fulfilling prophecy. self-imposing, self-mongering, like any other repetitive promise delivered by fallacious prophets. ‘ but it is alright. ’ her musings withered to a whisper. the flutter of her lashes and lax shape of her brows brimmed with an exhausted patience. it was deathless almost, dead and undead, a worn anchor settled within a bottomless puddle of liquid tar. tar that oozed from the throat, choking on its nightmares, on the rot of eaten snakes, on the smoke sucked from another's lung.  ‘ i am just as crude inside ’ you were not blind to her ugly, unsalvageable interiors, the thing she carried within. the thing that dried all her tears, all her humanness twisting to a deformed organ. removable when dysfunctional. it was a thing not dissimilar from that which you stubbornly refused to extract. but with its festering could come collapse. she must not forget the frail ripples of the sea, how the slightest shake could make or break it.  “ i wish i could take your pain sometimes. your bitterness. i know you wouldn't forgive me if i did. but you have not forgiven me for other things, so it would make little difference. " her hand, emitting unwanted comfort, rested upon your clenched fist. cruel tenderness irritated upon the fuss. she did not mind how rough it was against her mellow touch. it was still old love. oceanic, salty and bitter. weathered smooth by its clashing waves. it was still the peeling of oranges. " i'm sorry. i always say something inappropriate, don't i ? " some shred of your bitterness must have rubbed off on me.

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

darling moon

* 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 ?

𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 , 𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐂𝐄 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 // your heart has been torn before, chipped and maybe even shattered. some pieces will never be recovered, and you are shaped by the loss. but it can still be shaped into something tangible, something good, even with its flaws and imperfections. you don’t have to do all the work of rebuilding by yourself. allow other hands to leave their fingerprints on the new heart you create from the remnants.

* 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐎 ?

𝐏𝐑𝐀𝐘 // not necessarily to a god, but to hope. to family. in mud you see art. in shadows you see color. if the world fell apart around you, you would start gluing the pieces back together. life tastes bitter but you like the bite. those around you are inspired by your kindness, by your faith, by your hope. you might not speak often, but your words are the loudest in the room. you are rain and its ability to seep into every crack, the promise of new life.

* 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐃𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐍𝐄𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐁𝐄 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 ?

𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐌𝐄𝐋𝐓𝐒 // you need to be loved patiently. you need to feel the love slowly creeping in, a warning, a way to back away if you’re too scared. you need to be loved cautiously, as if you’re fragile. you need to be loved gently, because love is messy and muddy and makes your socks wet and hurts if the sun gets too close. but you need to let yourself be loved, because when you do, it’ll feel like spring.

tagged by : @reginrokkr / @oniriqe tagging ( pick whichever quiz you like ) : @asterites ( take this for all your blogs lol ), @asteriskheart ( kairi or aera maybe ? ), @aequitaes ( nero or hank ) , @valorxdrive, @ogaea, @hamadaxfighter, @hopewritten ( maybe colette ? )

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. ❜

hi so, i have decided to re-brand this blog, this serves more in terms of picking a new url and of stating the obvious of how interactions will continue here.

obviously, i'm not as active with luna as i used to be the first time i wrote her, which was ages ago, and it will likely never going to be the case again. luna will continue to exist as a muse for, quite literally, the 'whenevers'. i am aware, this will be unattractive for some people who need regular and consistent activity and interaction in order to keep their own blogs going themselves, but that just means this blog isn't for you and that's okay. that being out of the way, with the reduction of potential interest because of this, i'm far more likely to come back to interactions that contain dynamics or concepts which have been discussed and established prior. i am no longer going to write interactions on here where i have to assume the dynamic or assume where i can potentially take it, however if we did discuss something substantial to look forward to i will reply to what we have even if it takes me a long time. just recently i dug up an ancient thread, put it in my docs, and wrote a few paras out of a whim. again, if time is of the essence to you and you equate my pace to the amount of interest i have, this will not be the blog for you.

i did notice there are some threads that do still have potential but they are super old and are still written in the legacy editor, and naturally it's going to get messy THEREFORE if there weren't too many reblogs involved in a thread we can just repost it and keep moving from there ( provided the other person still wants to ).

i've been weird with prompts tbh, i haven't reblogged a single in-character prompt post since over a year i think. i figure people will send random stuff and that's enough for me! you can send random stuff just pls be patient, thanks.

my ass cannot write beyond four paragraphs anymore and i don't know why. it takes otherwise far too long even if its on a blog i'm frequently on. my energy is limited, especially on a physical basis. please don't take this as me not putting all my efforts or thoughtfulness into my replies. it's just that i can simply no longer 'match energy' so to speak.

ok thats it for now, i wanted to get this off my chest before i create too many expectations lskdfjlskdfdj