Fire: From “A Journal Of Love”, The Unexpurgated Diary Of Anaïs Nin, 1934–1937

Charlotte Brontë, from Villette

😘❤️

damn

you materialize in the corner of my eye like sephiroth

@battleshot​  :   He will *try* to flatter akjsfceimjga

ah, he is struggling a little.  it is quite adorable, indeed, how he resembles a shy chocobo chick ;  and upon noticing so she hardly can suppress the urge to pet his hair.  in fact, she does it anyways.  there, there.

* 𝐒𝐌𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐎𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐈 .

i. a little headcanon ( from an earlier post ) with @asterites includes the perfidious lady cousin of the fleuret siblings, cytherea, who, in good old fleuret family tradition, perishes.  but not before turning into a daemon that resembles siren from ff11. if iedolas still had an implied son ( short-haired blondie from the versus trailers ) she probably would have had a scandalous affair with him while they planned to overthrow niflheim together via to their shared greed for power.

ii. while luna has neither a particular eating disorder nor an unhealthy relationship with food, she does have the tendency to self-neglect due to overworking, which results in slight underweight and a bit of hair loss / hair thinning. that does not mean she finds no enjoyment in food or that she consumes with guilt attached, quite the opposite ; she simply finds little time to indulge. if she gave herself the chance to eat regularly, she'd find back to a healthy weight without much issue.

iii. opposite to what little we've seen of the pages within the notebook that luna and noctis exchange, she likes to decorate her entries with little ( bad ) scribbles that go along with her letter-long ( fancy ) texts. of course, over the years have assembled multiple books, filled with smaller or longer notes, insignificant or emotionally charged alike. she lets noctis vent more than she allows herself to, but sometimes even she finds herself writing down what she is feeling in her political prison.

iv.  as much as square enix wants the sylleblossom to be associated with the relationship of luna & noctis because they keep showing the pressed flower in the journal, plus her death scene / the scene with ravus --- the only two times i accept this flower in relation to her and why i think she nurtures them, are : one. a field full with its blue petals appear like a sea and therefore creates a visual dynamic that reminds of the moon and its control over the ocean. two. sylleblossoms highly resemble gentiana’s and are a direct hint towards the connection between the messengers and the oracles, since the flower is native to tenebrae.  other than that i just take the lunar tear out of nier and apply it as luna’s personal flower, because of the fact it grows at a lost shrine ( i oft like to symbolize that the moon as selene's forsaken body is sort of like a lost shrine ) and is said to perform miracles which is a reference to luna’s entire healer image.

The world is entire, and I am outside of it, crying …  —

katrien de blauwer  /  edith sitwell  /  e. m. forster  /  anaïs nin  /  virginia woolf  /  h. g. wells

Forugh Farrokhzad, Deevar (The Wall); from ‘Lost’, tr. Sholeh Wolpé

Aphelion • Jesper Kyd feat. Melissa Kaplan

  *  //  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. ”

  *  //  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. ”