ˏˋ ❝ 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐲𝐢𝐧' 𝐀𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞 ❞ ˏˋ

93 15 1
                                    

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.






∘𖤓──────∘ 𖤓∘──────𖤓∘





𖤓 ' No matter how vast the darkness, or how fierce the battles we face... we carry the light that will see us through. I believe in each of you, and in the promise we've made to this universe ' 𖤓






∘𖤓──────∘ 𖤓∘──────𖤓∘





In the confined stillness of the cockpit, Lunarae's presence transformed the space, her tranquil energy seeping into every corner and softening the hard edges of the metal and wires around her. The air seemed to grow gentler, as if the room itself dared not disrupt her quiet grace. Her figure, perched upon the narrow edge of the console, struck an elegant balance between regality and warmth, her delicate features framed by the subtle glow of cockpit lights.

Her right leg draped over the left with a fluidity that seemed effortless, yet each motion held an innate, mesmerizing poise. The silken fabric of her gown fell in rippling folds along her legs, whispering against her skin in tender caresses that moved with every subtle shift. As her legs adjusted, the daring slit in her dress parted ever so slightly, revealing a sliver of her creamy, pearlescent skin. The light caught on her exposed leg, highlighting the smooth curve of her calf and thigh with a softness that made her appear as if sculpted from marble. The fabric, infused with threads of starlight and adorned with diamonds, responded to even the faintest touch of light, sending a scattering of prismatic colors dancing across the cockpit's interior. Small, flickering rainbows shimmered over the cold metal walls and across the seats, as if she alone possessed the power to draw light into being.

Her hands, resting delicately upon the console's edge, were a vision of grace. Slender, tapering fingers curved softly as they settled atop the metal, the slight arch of her wrists hinting at the inherent elegance in her every movement. Her fingers, a shade of ivory that seemed almost luminous against the dull gray of the console, splayed with a natural ease that belied a quiet strength beneath her serene exterior. Fingertips brushed the console lightly, as if her touch was weightless, delicate yet firm, holding her grounded amid the complex array of controls and screens before her. With each breath she took, her posture remained poised, unhurried, and entirely composed, as though she were not merely a passenger in this cockpit but an ethereal presence—an anchor in the restless current of space.

ˏˋ ❝  𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐎𝐟 𝐀𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧  ❞ ˏˋWhere stories live. Discover now