there is no agency in becoming something preordained, handed down from father to son to father to son. there is no divinity in becoming a forsaken sacrifice to the all father. there is nothing royal or holy in raising two children to be slaughtered and sacrificed for the good of the many. there is nothing noble or sacred in the stories that bring them to be, or the burdens they wear upon their heads and shoulders. when they die, it is not beautiful, or glorious, or majestic. their bodies are not hallowed, sacred things. they are simply the lifeless bodies of the king whose crown was denied to him, and the oracle whose divinity was stolen from her.
noctis lucis caelum and lunafreya nox fleuret, as loved by spencer and ophelia. not for personal reblog. template credit.