#blitzace

                         remember when I promised you a happy ending ? 

Hesitation permeates every single fiber of the Summoner’s heart and soul             For no longer than the flutter of a butterfly’s wings, does she become a doll of ( cracked ) porcelain, struck by unspoken fears and all-devouring regrets. There isn’t a single thing that she has forgotten, not a single thing that she has allowed oblivion to take away from her ; this is what happens when you’re well aware that your life is not destined to last for long   —   You attach yourself to even the smallest emotion in pursuance of feeling alive, you cling onto each and every fragment of memory in pursuance of being able to declare that, yes, you have lived. Albeit briefly. Albeit with an excruciatingly heavy burden ‘pon quivering shoulders.

                remember when I promised to visit Zanarkand with you ? 

Gaze instinctively falls down, anchored to the unforgiving concrete underneath rather than to the blinding sky above, as if suddenly forced by the weight of something that cannot be described with mere words. There is a storm raging within the confines of her breastbone and its thunders echo loudly against her ears                   However, not loud enough to suffocate his voice, his familiar whistles and his overly joyful laughter. Dainty hands come to rest right above her fast-beating heart whilst her head bows into a courteous nod, a gesture that is perhaps too polite and apathetic, especially considering who her interlocutor currently is. Does he feel it, too ? This never-ending sense of longing for something that cannot be attained, for something that is so close and yet so out of reach ? If only things had been different. If only…

                                      remember all the promises I broke ? 

Finally, her attention is directed towards him once more. His eyes have always been the crystal-clear mirror to his feelings and although Yuna still remains unable to thoroughly decipher them all, she knows that he’s perhaps the only person who can understand her. Ironic, isn’t it ? How someone who knows nothing, has come to know so much about her.   ❛  Is it too late, now ?  ❜   It takes immense strength to hinder her soft-spoken voice from trembling, from breaking into a myriad of jagged smithereens.   ❛  I would still like to visit those places                  With you.  ❜

In-depth Headcanons pt 1 || Still accepting!

⊗ : What is something that causes them to question themselves?

For Yuna? It’s all a matter of right and wrong–her moral compass. While she has a strong sense of justice, there’s also whether or not her actions will benefit or hinder; a lot of the time…that’s what trips her up. When there’s no clear & concise answer staring her in the face, forcing her to make decisions rather than some that don’t need a second glance, nor thought. And that, more often than not, makes her wonder if the decision she makes was really the right choice. 

✏ : What are their creative outlets?

Childhood: ( Playing Pretend ) As a coping mechanism ( without realizing, of course ), she would always take to ‘borrowing’ Lulu’s dolls for a little while. Recreating moments with her father, or what little she could remember of her mother–sometimes they’re still together with her in tow. Other times? She imagined up an entire scenario where her parents met Lulu & Wakka–all together in the same place where there was no Sin. And, every time, the moogle always represented herself. 

Acolyte: ( Daydream ) Every day–before dawn–she would get up a little before training and sneak down to the cove. And for that brief hour of solitude, think of what she’d do after defeating Sin. How her life might look–or her friends’ lives–and all the fun they could have together without worrying. Even if she knows better, it makes her smile…and that helps ease the burden of what’s to come. 

Pilgrimage: ( Memento ) Each temple they visit, for every inn they stay at, or random places she finds particularly captivating? She’ll leave a piece of herself behind. Be it a doodle carved into the trunk of a tree, an item belonging to herself ( or the group ) buried somewhere secret, or her initials hidden in plain sight; for Yuna, it means a piece of herself will remain among them long after she’s departed Spira.

@blitzace

The young man which spoke to him could be seen as nothing but a blur of colors. Yes, at this point, even with his glasses, Nooj guessed he would not be able to make out just who it was that spoke to him. Even the voice was hazy and hardly heard in Nooj’s still ringing ears.  The man reached up, grunting softly as his hand made contact with the back of his head. It felt a bit wet. There was blood. He likely had a concussion, yet and still, he would deny any pain, however, useless it was to do so.  

❝ N-No… I’m fine, really… ❞

He could barely get the words out, much less make them believable.