I SAY : it’s in the reach of my arms, the span of my hips, the stride of my step, the curl of my lips. i am a woman, phenomenally ——— phenomenal woman, that’s me.
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@anastros
I SAY : it’s in the reach of my arms, the span of my hips, the stride of my step, the curl of my lips. i am a woman, phenomenally ——— phenomenal woman, that’s me.

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skaiireap.
❝ so are you like an alien ? ❞ authenticity beckons innocent query . prolonged silence , a tension heavy with a silent warfare of betrayal and shock . you are not human . ❝ were you there ❞ half spat sentence is lodged , chocked down in hesitation . octavia sits at the edge of her bed , shifting meager inches in place to distract from their ongoing confrontation . she believed her a ‘ friend ’ . a humanitarian at that , visiting the caged animals the Ark harbored amidst the vacuum of space . that unhinged blake courage was difficult to swallow down . needles at her skin cat ready to pounce at a curio’s temptation . ❝ at the end of the world ? ❞ / / @anastros
amaranthine girl : enduring like heliotrope. something like amusement flashes past serene countenance, shades her simper in iridescent hues. ❝ an alien? ❞ the word is sweet vitriol upon her tongue, embellished with undertones of disbelief. ❝ i’m almost certain those don’t exist, dearest. not in this world. ❞ wryly, she contemplates on what makes for existence in the eyes of a mortal ——— wonders if the gods are still within the realms of belief. ( what is salvation, to numbered vagabond souls floating about in the vastness of the universe? ) ❝ and no ——— i was not present at the end of the world. ❞ no lies spill acrid from saccharine mouth; astraea has been nestled in the stars too long to have witnessed the apocalypse of all they held dear. in the interlude between breaths, she soundlessly admits that she wasn’t at the end of the world for the simple fact that the world hasn’t quite ended yet, and theirs is a cycle of death and rebirth that she will be privy too for all eternity.
post - sky retreat astraea is a little more enigmatic than she was in the golden ages; she’s older now, a little more jaded and a little less naïve ——— i daresay she’s found a liking to playing around with words and sentences and just dancing around meanings in general, if that makes sense. astraea is intelligence and enlightenment, and while she’s spent a good portion of her life utilizing that to aid mortals, only now has she found some semblance of enjoyment in using that for herself.
chalceus.
❝ well, i am not sure how i can help - but i will try. ❞
he is . . . exactly as she remembers : though in hindsight, she hasn’t much to remember him by. ❝ perhaps ——— perhaps just a listening ear? ❞
angst & post-angst sentences. feel free to change diction, pronouns, and the like around to make the sentences more suitable. these sentences are kept vague to imply but avoid mentioning specific triggers besides death—feel free to mention specifics in your ask.
“ don’t touch him! ”
“ please, don’t hurt _____! ”
“ i had nothing to do with that. ”
“ is this my fault? ”
“ you lied to me. ”
“ [name]? —oh, i’m hallucinating. ”
“ she’ll never hurt you again. ”
“ did you kill him? ”
“ you have to stop this. ”
“ it’s been weeks. is it not getting easier? ”
“ i just need to know that something’s real. ”
“ you can resist it. you have to. ”
“ i’m sorry, i thought i saw—… ”
“ every day you’re becoming more like her. ”
“ if i go, he’ll leave you alone. ”
“ you can’t tell ____ that i’m doing this. ”
“ we’re gonna see each other again, right? right? ”
“ she’s not you. ”
“ i can’t hurt him. ”
“ i don’t feel like the same person i was before it happened. ”
“ she’ll go through you to get to me. ”
“ it’s nothing personal. ”
“ you can’t expect me to believe nothing happened, not when you flinch everytime something touches you. ”
“ i thought you knew. ”
“ please, don’t trust me. ”
“ he was just a kid. ”
“ i need you more than you need me. ”
“ if you really wanted to help, you would leave. ”
“ i needed to make it stop. ”
“ do anything she says, don’t give her a reason to hurt you. ”
“ you really don’t remember. _____, you tried to kill me. ”
“ have you ever seen the life leave someone’s eyes? ”
“ i know you can’t talk about it, but i’m going to stay with you regardless. ”
“ hey, everything okay? [name]? [name]! ”
“ you died. ”
“ i deserved worse. ”
“ you never came. ”
“ you would’ve let me die. ”
“ beg. ”
“ the problem is you keep thinking i’m a good person. ”
“ it’s not about me, anymore. ”
“ please tell me he’s lying to me. ”
“ you’re not actually considering this. ”
“ look me in the eyes and say that again. ”
“ you have no right. ”
“ i don’t believe you. ”
“ i love you. i’m sorry. ”

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❝ when i was a girl, ❞ she begins, and nearly laughs ——— not a girl, never a girl, not really; just fledgling and divine. the second’s pause bears the weight of eons, and in the fleeting interlude between here and there, she struggles to elucidate the amalgam of honey and vitriol that hollows out her bones. ❝ i used to make these little flower crowns, all the time. and my best friend would get so annoyed ——— said i was making the garden bald. ❞ // @hisyield .
❝ you seem troubled. ❞ and it is with a childlike grace and guileless hum that she sidles into the seat directly across him, propping chin onto awaiting palm. somber gaze of twin irises, aptly hued from moonlight, belie the honeyed tone with which she coats her lilt ——— many have thought her a neophyte deity, yet often forget that she has only wizened with age. ❝ a penny for your thoughts? ❞ / @hypnosruled .
A Moment’s Reflection (detail) Federico Andreotti
!!! hi hello ————— like this for a short thing, maybe?
` & : seraphids .
SHE WHO CRADLES THE DEMON , lulls it into dormant stage this ethereal soul which beckons to a man who can commit such wicked things. oh , a martyr with honey glossed eyes , a siren’s call. a penchant to offer compassion & deliverance to that who begs for it , who wishes for the taste of salvation reaches with trembling hands to have ahold it for just a fleeting moment. the devil , was he not once an angel ? who prays for his loss. ( i witnessed it. i did. an angel plummeting to the earth : wings emblazoned in hellfire , plumes alight. scarred , laceration upon his heart poisoning coiling betwixt ribs : rotting. an angel of music. a charlatan. ) her breath is caught , a silence which is heavy looms around them her curiosity piques forever prodding , forever rampant her head poises itself to cant to the side , beseeching eyes flitting about to observe the other’s countenance , what message can she convey ?
❛ DO YOU BELIEVE THEY ARE IN SEARCH OF HEAVEN TOO ? ❜ she whispers , guileless & doused with a pitying tone she cannot quite explain. ( do they ? a silly thought. little lotte of course you would think of such a thing. ) ❛ that is why the paths cusp. yet one look at a demon , one will assume it deeds are nefarious. or perhaps that is very silly of me to say. have you encountered anything of the sort ? ❜
do you believe, astraea is asked, and lady starlight cannot help but query ——— does she believe, indeed. she sobers far too quickly for a young woman spinning tales of a wayfaring life, yet not quick enough for a scion of the primeval, and she is impelled to select which persona’s sentimentality she will speak of. silvery gaze glosses over, travels to domains that transcend comprehension : whens and wheres that have existed with her, whos and whats that have removed themselves from these planes as she continues on, no stranger to the vitriolic grasp of greed and wrath and deadly sins. lachrymose saturates her, bleeds into comely countenance and arranges features accordingly. she counts the infinities between the seconds she spends wordless; on the third beat, she allows her irises to fixate upon the other.
❝ i believe that heaven is too beautiful a place not to search for, or journey towards. ❞ emphasized by the brief quirk of rosen lips, she sends a prayer to sister hebe ——— keep this ingenue in the loving throes of youth, protect from the sacrosanct / sacrilegious. lilt follows the somber sheen of her eyes, something altogether disillusioned and perhaps a little bitter. ❝ of course, wanting to find heaven and actually finding it are two vastly different enterprises. more often than not, there are pitchforks in the road that lead to a diverging path entirely. ❞

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pallid fingers glide smoothly along her own flesh, as though a feeble attempt at reassuring her own substance. if she tilted her head just so, she would find herself treated to a tapestry of stars, each nook and cranny and nuance too familiar to ever fully disentangle from. arresting though it may be, it summons forth a dull throb within the cages of mortal bones, a reminder of what running has made her. ❝ you’d be surprised at how easy it is, to find devils whilst in search of heaven. some, even ——— not quite as far away as you’d expect. ❞ / @seraphids .
all your gods are teenage girls: astraea, goddess of innocence and purity
❝ i had always wondered ... ❞ and it is here that the masterful cadence of saccharine voice fades out into something altogether more haunted. she isn’t quite a vagabond, after all ——— she’s built palaces in the sky and in the stars and in gold - summited mountains, yet her soul has always been restless and her feet, unbound. she flashes a grin, transient like the eons that had slipped through her fingers, not unlike sand. ❝ ... if all this running would run me off the world, someday. ❞ / @aencience .
!!! hi hello ————— like this for a short thing, maybe?
we are all just stars with people names . ————— penned by effie .

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“ DEATHSLAYUS — SLEEPYHEAD .
day breaker rises to herald a new solstice , prometheus bringing warmth to vest man with . and like a winged - child ( naive & hopeful ) she seeks out the flames . ever too careless to forget stars burn . frigid corpse subtly , what pretense ! , casually stirs in a gravitational lure towards a place — person , of warmth . ❝ too early ❞ grumbled protest announces from underneath the mountain of comforters . voice raw and rasp from its disuse . a tussle of sun - kissed brown hair claiming a pillow of differing ownership , head nestled dangerously close to the touch of a cosmic fire . yet green eyes pry open to greet the day , looking above to defy such mockery with sleep in her eyes . ❝ you know you snore , right ? ❞ silver - tongue and canine grin of playful mischief .
tongue clucks amusedly, thus begins a graceful symphony of lissome limbs on a feather - soft stage, spotlighted by sun rays as splendent as she ——— watch then, icarus, the toss of midnight hair and smooth glide of elegant spine as lady starlight reclines onto the mattress, and the finale: duvet cloth procured by nimble fingers, slid onto adjacent forms so contrastive in temperature and temperament. ( if she leaves but a few finger’s breadths between them, she says nothing. ) instead, mouth quirks of its own accord, eyes bright and glimmering and fully awake, unaffected by the seductive temptress who calls herself slumber. ❝ first of all, i breathe ——— and i do so quietly, thank you very much. i think you just dreamed that up. secondly, you drool, just so it’s out in the open. ❞ mischief is matched blow for blow, lips split into a simper that widens with every word uttered.
hello holy fuck i have graduated high school with honors