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june-again · 10 months

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CHILUMI: # a chasmic mistake.

CHAPTER I: descent.

chapter summary. in which Lumine makes a decision she will regret; in which Childe has everything under control.

wc. 3.4k. genre. enemies to lovers, adventure, pining.

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Lumine’s muscles tensed as she felt the ground beneath her feet give way. She should have seen this coming, having ignored the signs placed around the area warning against trespassing. She’d never been the type to pay them much attention, nor had her target. And Paimon wasn’t around to drag her back, either—her floaty friend was left behind somewhere as she’d scaled the mountains and skidded back down them, only willing to stop for one thing.

That one thing would be her blade to the neck of the Eleventh Harbinger.

Paimon had said this whole thing was pointless, that “Mr. Moneybags” would only get them both into danger. Lumine had initially agreed, but seeing Childe, the man who had tried to kill her and wipe out all of Liyue Harbour, recklessly hunting a bounty across the nation had driven her to devote herself entirely to stopping him.

He had never resisted her, of course. Countless duels had commenced over the last few weeks, and Lumine had contributed greatly to the chaos that followed in his wake. He liked resisting her, and she liked that she got closer to defeating him every time. But it was because of Childe. It was all his fault. Him, and those damn Fatui.

Lumine had caught word of a bountied creature, some kind of rare animal belonging to a Sumeran noble. She had already understood that this was his goal. But she found it very suspicious of the deceptive (and wealthy) Snezhnayan to chase just any bounty. Surely it wasn’t just over some Mora, because that was definitely not worth falling several hundred meters into the so-called solar chariot ruins known as the Chasm. Thus, she had been keeping an eye on him. A very close, hunting eye.

He had told her about his plans himself during one of their duels, saying, “You can’t blame me for bounty hunting. You’ve done enough of that to understand the thrill of it.” And this, she could not deny. In a way, he was her own target, the unattainable bounty being satisfaction.

Lumine had never been great at saving herself from near-miss falls, but whatever ability she could muster would momentarily have to come into use. She would grab ahold of something—anything—to keep from getting herself stuck in the abandoned mines. She slid down a crumbling slate of rock, which angled her closer to the gaping black hole below. The Qixing had claimed to have sealed it off completely; how could it be that there was now a wide mouth to the dark caverns below?

Making quick use of Anemo, she managed to propel herself to the edge of the gap, scrambling up to uncertain safety. Only once she was assured the rock would hold her did she venture to peer down the hole.

“Hey, girlie! You sure you wanna go down there?”

The nauseatingly charming voice echoed dramatically from somewhere above her and she looked up.

Childe stood on some jutting rocks further up the opposite side of the cavity, waving his fingers at her from over the edge. “Hello!”

She didn’t respond, making a face she hoped he could read from his distance.

“Someday you’ll be happier to see me,” Childe said. “Come now, no need to look at me like that. Suppose I’ll catch you later, then, traveller. Careful on the way down!”

With that, he took a step and a hop over the edge, soaring confidently towards the depths of the Chasm. A flash of grey and ginger later, and he had disappeared into the darkness. Lumine crawled to the overhang’s edge, gazing down into it again.

She had no defensive logic for the decision she was about to make, and yet… she had to. He was dragging her down with him without even touching her. She had to follow him, no matter what.

—

The first thing Lumine noticed upon landing was an ache in her legs. Her glider had served her well for most of it—but the amount of time it took her eyes to adjust to the low light level still had her legs nervously tensing for most of the descent.

It smelled of dank cave, metal, and some bitter scent she couldn’t place. She immediately took to a rock that was just the right size for leaning on, and regained her wits as she looked around. There was no exit; that was clear. The cavern appeared to be fairly large, narrowing towards the stone ceiling from which she fell, assuring no simple clambering out. She’d find a way out eventually, as she always did, but escape seemed to be quite out of reach for now.

Damn. If only she could contact Venti to fly her out. But then, even if she could, the last time she had seen him he was too intoxicated to fly straight. It wouldn’t serve either of them well. Also, as lovely as Venti was as a friend, he was one of the last people she’d like to be stuck underground with. Childe was further down that list, of course.

Around herself, she could make out the shapes of different rocks and minerals, dismally glowing cave-dwelling blossoms, and in the distance, the faint silhouettes of abandoned mining equipment.

And no Paimon. Paimon would have no idea where she was.

Lumine had no chance to grieve this lack of communication, because she heard footsteps and disfigured yelling just a moment later.

“Who’s there? Name yourself!”

She said nothing, hopping over the rock and gliding further down into the cavern. Unfortunately, she noticed the Fatui camp’s fire all-too-close to where she landed.

“There’s an intruder!” The distorted voice of a Pyroslinger broke out and she groaned internally. Not even a minute to catch her breath? Really?

Lumine’s attacks came naturally, blowing down the Fatui’s elemental shields and stunning them with Anemo vortexes. Finally reaching the last enemy, the Pyroslinger Bracer, she took slow steps towards the corner she’d blasted him into. She always soaked up the last moments of her victory for what they could offer: the Pyroslinger’s arms raised to protect himself, muttering curses just loud enough for her to enjoy, and the inevitability of his defeat. Her movements halted, suddenly, though it was neither her doing nor the Fatui skirmisher’s. Her vision was dimming, and she looked around herself to see strange dark mud covering the ground. Her nose was overwhelmed by the bitter smell now, and her legs were leaden.

Three shots from the recovering Pyroslinger now struck her chest, knocking her off her balance. She collapsed to the ground with hands cushioning her fall in the egregious mud. She looked up as the Pyroslinger repositioned his gun to aim again. She couldn’t pull her hands out of the mud fast enough to reach for her sword, which had fallen to her left.

“Stand down, comrade,” a tenor voice said from somewhere behind.

The Fatui skirmisher looked up from her and cocked his head. “Who gives you the authority?”

A second later, two arrows had struck each of the skirmisher’s shoulders, just hanging onto the top of the fur, and a third zipped directly into the feather on his hat, knocking it clean off.

“Her Majesty, the Tsaritsa of Snezhnaya, grants me absolute authority.” Childe stepped into Lumine’s view, giving a cold smile to the skirmisher. “Can’t recognize one of the Eleven Harbingers, comrade?” A dim flash bloomed above his gloved palm in a shapeless lantern of elemental energy, casting an eerie blue glow on his visage.

The skirmisher stood straight, giving an awkward salute. “Forgive me, sir.”

“You’re off the hook, but don’t go aiming your gun at me again,” he chided. “Her Majesty will hear about it.”

“No, sir. But—” he gestured to Lumine “—she took down my whole squad.”

Childe peered into the shadows, noting the unconscious or incapacitated forms of said squad. “I see.” His dim elemental lantern extinguished and he offered Lumine his hand, which she greeted with nothing but an offended stare. “Good work, girlie. You know, you really don’t have to attack ‘em unprovoked, hey?”

“Oh, you’re one to talk,” she spat, getting to her feet without his assistance and dusting herself off. This mud would surely leave quite the stain.

“Don’t I get a ‘thank you’?”

“I had that under control.”

“I’d beg to differ,” he said, leaning over to her to wipe a bit of muck out of her hair. She froze, at first, and then stepped away from him, slapping his hand away. Fetching her sword from the mud, Lumine nearly stormed off.

But then she realized, with much consternation, that she had nowhere to walk away to. Her goal had been to stop him. She wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.

By now he should have prompted a duel, as had happened each time before. She’d interrupted him chatting with (interrogating) innocent civilians in Qingce Village, prevented his discovery of Albedo’s camp, and taken clues for herself. Rumours were everywhere, of course—and yet they had both been acquainted with similar directions to the earthquake zone which had dropped them here. The targeted creature was last spotted and chased away by guards of the Chasm. The guards were the reckoned finish line of their race for intel. But the guards were at the Surface, and they were down here.

Childe grimaced at her movement. His eyes didn’t leave her.

Lumine cleared her throat. “You didn’t, by chance… end up talking to the…”

“The guards? Nah, I didn’t make it that far. You thought I might have come back for you, girlie?” He sniggered.

Lumine stared at him blankly. She wanted to ask him, what now? But she also didn’t want to be confronted about her decision to come down here in the first place.

He turned to the Pyroslinger. “When’s your relay over?”

“Twenty-seven days.”

“Rations?”

“We’re fine. There’s water sources down here, and mushrooms we can roast in the worst case.”

“Good. Carry on, comrade.” He eyed a Fatuus in the shadows, who was groaning in pain. “And… try to take care of your squad, will ya?”

“Acknowledged.”

Lumine almost felt guilt for causing this group all the trouble. But then she remembered. They were Fatui.

And so was Childe. She placed her hand on the hilt of her sword and glared at him. He turned to her with an amiable smile, ignoring her stance.

“Now, then, traveller, whaddya say we explore a little?”

Lumine tightened her hand’s grip on the hilt. “For what?”

“Well, for fun, of course.”

She gave him a hard look. “Okay,” she said slowly, relaxing her hand, “let’s explore. For fun.”

—

Oh, it was excruciating walking alongside her enemy like this. Lumine hated how he walked a little bit ahead, how he pointed out directions they should go, how he made small talk. How he attempted banter and she fell into the trap of responding. How he never hesitated at a single turn, offering light from his vision in case she found the dark to be too much (which she declined, affronted by the preposition that she was afraid of darkness).

“It seems to narrow into a smaller cave, here,” Childe was saying, “why don’t we—”

“You should let me walk ahead,” she interrupted.

He cocked his head at her, Fatui mask in his hair shifting with the movement. “Why? You want to protect me?”

“No, idiot. I don’t trust you.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust his intuition—it was sharp, she could admit—but that she hated being out of control. She was used to the “why don’t we—”s from Paimon, but rather than observant reminders as it was with her pixie companion, it sounded like suspicious schemes. Anything he said sounded like a part of a ploy, a puzzle to unravel. Some kind of evil mission, probably. It always would be with him.

He tch’d, but gestured for her to walk ahead. “You have so little faith in me.”

“I wonder why, Childe,” she spat his codename. “I wonder why.”

With a pause, he sent Lumine a more serious look. He spoke carefully. “I think it would help,” he said, “if you took the time to hear me out a little, girlie.”

Lumine studied his expression. It wasn’t often she got to see his expression reveal anything more than military, wiley, or bloodthirsty. The corners of his lips were nudged back, his brows were slightly gathered, and his eyes were direct. And his Fatui mask was as red as ever.

“I respectfully disagree,” she said, taking the lead ahead. “No amount of explaining can justify your actions. And don’t call me that.”

“I’m not trying to challenge your morals, traveller.”

She threw her arms out. “Then stop acting like you want me to fancy your ass.”

“That’s not what this is about.”

“Then what is it about, Childe?”

He hesitated again, boasting an irked expression. “I don’t need a babysitter, but you’ve been following me for weeks. Why?”

“You have the codename ‘Childe’ for a reason, don’t you?”

He went silent. Lumine looked over her shoulder to see his brows lowering.

“Giving up on your own case already?”

His gaze set into hers. “Do you hear that?”

Lumine listened, and then latched her eyes onto an ominous shape in the darkness. There was a soft, rattling snarl, which she recognized as that of a Geovishap only a second before it was too late. She leapt before Childe, raising her sword just in time to deflect the pounce of the dragonish Creature. Its claws scraped against the stone floor as it fell back, gearing up to leap again. Childe dashed past her and the Geovishap, and aimed a shot right at the nape of its neck, causing it to freeze milliseconds before lunging. It twitched, falling to its curved back.

For a second, Lumine thought he’d slain the Geovishap in a single shot, but it then began to twitch, spin, roll, towards Childe this time. He dove out of the way, narrowly escaping one hit which only seemed to aggravate the Geovishap more, landing directly in front of him with its claws out. Lumine always thought of Childe as rather tall and altitudinally advantaged, but when standing before an adult Geovishap he looked so small. Fleeting fear overtook her mind and with a leap from behind she took a steady blade through its skull.

Childe stepped back as it crumpled in his direction, Hydro blades dissolving into elemental energy as he gave her a taunting look. “You know, I had that under control.”

A proud smile spread across Lumine’s lips. “Ha. I’d beg to differ,” she said, planting one foot on the creature’s back, almost too high to reach, and driving her sword heavily into its back through scales.

His gaze shifted between the hilt of her sword, her overstretched leg, and her expression. A grin bloomed gradually, blessedly, on his own face and he laughed jovially. “Alright, then. You can lead the way.”

Lumine cleared her throat and withdrew her blade, swinging it inattentively before sheathing it. She forced her smile down. “Yes. Good. I will.”

He took to walking behind her, and she hated that more, because she could not see him. After a few minutes, she commanded, “Walk beside me.”

“Yes, Mom.”

“Shut the hell up.”

He took to her right side with an expression like a satisfied fourteen-year old who just won a match of cards. “We should find somewhere to set up camp pretty soon, no?”

Lumine huffed. She did not want to set up camp with No. 11 of the Fatui Harbingers.

“Unless you want to go back and find my subordinates. I’m not sure how pleased they would be to host you after your unprompted attack, but I am great at convincing.”

“You’re not always so great at convincing,” she said, still unable to admit he had a point. She had no way to tell the time but she knew it had been late afternoon upon their descent, and they had been walking for several hours. Her legs were in need of rest.

“I’d like to think sometimes it takes longer than other times, but the job always gets done.”

“You’d like to think a lot of things.” The tunnel around them was widening rapidly as they walked. “I’d like to think this is our way out, but how likely is that?”

He pointed ahead. “There’s actually a bit of a semi-cave there, under that overhang, you see? You wanna set up there?”

She squinted into the darkness. “You’re joshing. There’s nothing to see.”

“Come on.” They walked in the direction he had gestured towards, and there was indeed a semi-cave, three walls but a big enough opening on the fourth side that there was no chance of getting trapped. “Is this to your liking, girlie?” he asked, like they were touring a couple’s apartment.

“Could be worse,” she conceded, and dropped her bag against the wall. “Now, by setting up camp, what is it you’re actually referring to?” Lumine crossed her arms, eyeing him. “Fire, food, shelter, and comfort? Or do you just conk out for a few hours on the ground?”

“Do you think I’m a savage?” he asked with a laugh. “I carry a leather blanket in my bag. I can make a fire with wet wood. I know how to turn a snowy tree into a cozy shelter. Hm… But we haven’t got any kindling, so shall we find some cave grass?”

Lumine, slightly insulted that he supposed her straightforward method of setting up camp to be savage, sauntered towards the greater opening of the cave and surveyed the area. There was still a strangely sufficient amount of light, though perhaps not enough for her to pick up on details such as potential grass locales. She squinted, trying to decide quite how far away the other side of the cave really was.

“Let’s walk this way.” Childe waved her over, providing his blue glow with elemental energy. She wished she knew how to do that. But she didn’t dare ask, knowing that sharing any trade secrets with a Fatuus would be both humiliating and disgusting.

“Childe,” she said, instead, and then hesitated. The forthcoming inquiry was terrible, but had to be inquired nonetheless.

“Yeah?”

“What are we gonna… or rather, what are you doing down here, and…”

He met her eyes without a tinge of sass. “You’re really asking your sworn enemy to reveal his plan to you?”

“Uh…” Lumine sucked air through her teeth. This was atrociously painful. “What’s the plan?”

Childe’s face broke into a wide grin and he howled. “You are so cute.”

“Answer the damn question, Harbinger.”

He chuckled some more. “Alright, since you asked so nicely. I already have enough leads that I know the bounty’s down here.” He shrugged matter-of-factly. “Shouldn’t take longer than a few days to reach it.”

Lumine narrowed her eyes at him. “Do you… know the Chasm well?”

He clicked his tongue. “Not particularly, but I don’t get lost.”

“You don’t get lost? Not even in massive, cursed cave systems?”

“Nope!”

“Do you have much experience underground?”

“Oh…” he said. “Yes, a bit.”

For a fraction of a second his smile flickered, and this Lumine noticed with suspicion. However, she decided not to push it, keeping a watchful eye on him as they descended deeper into the cavern.

Wherever they were going, Lumine would have to stay on her guard for the deception that the Fatui Harbinger inevitably had in store for her. She knew how to survive, but she did not know the Chasm. She had not even seen a map of it before, and only had a trifle of knowledge about what had happened here. She was aware that it was related to the cataclysm 500 years ago, but its role was a mystery to her and the reason for its hushed nature in Liyue was just as mysterious. It was unclear whether Childe knew the Chasm, but he was of this world and was therefore at an advantage.

That, and he was the one who had some kind of true motive for being down here.

And Lumine’s only motive was to prevent him from accomplishing it.

author's note. please reblog if you enjoyed. thanks so much for reading! i'm so excited about this series man i poured my soul into it

— table of contents / next chapter

➳ GENSHIN MASTERLIST

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kaz-identified · 8 months

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houseofmcallister presents... Pink in the Night

Pairing: Crow x Young Wolf Category: One-Shot Genre: Fluff, Angst? (yearning. just yearning.) Rating: 13+ Warnings: No major warnings apply Word Count: 1.9k Summary: Basking in the glow of your glorious light is enough.

she/they pronouns used for the Guardian. because this is basically faolan.

a/n: Did you know I write poetry? No? Well I do. And this is one of them. Sorry if this is a little disjointed. This is pure poetry.

I love you, I love you, I love you.

Crow thinks maybe this is enough. Maybe he'll be OK with just this, even if it kills him.

Even if he is desperately in love it's almost painful.  There's something akin to suicide that comes from seeing the person that you love and adore, someone who saved your life and will put their life on the line to save yours and everyone else's day and day out, time and time again, and knowing how selfish it would be to tell them you love them. Knowing that they can't have that distraction right now, knowing that if they knew, and you got hurt they would never forgive themself.

There's something like being killed a thousand times over to yearning so much it's almost painful, craving nothing but being in their arms, wanting so desperately to hold them, to whisper sweet nothings in their ear and remind them that they're alive, and sometimes that's enough.   Something similar to what he thinks being burned alive is like in wanting to make a home with them, give them a place to come back to after the battle, somewhere to let their eyes close, drop their head into your lap, and simply enjoy the sweet sensation of sharing the presence of someone you love.

It's such an unselfish love, driven by a desire to simply help. Let them be saved for once instead of the one being saved. Just wanting to give them a sense of peace. But, he faces fire and lets it scald his heart, knowing that even a love so pure, so altruistic would be a death sentence where it shared right now.  

A soldier who goes into the war with a lover waiting back home is a soldier who will fight and die and claw their way home to their lover's arms.  But a soldier who finds them during the battle? Someone still so recklessly in love? That's a fool waiting to be slaughtered.   

So, for now, he'll swallow his feelings, force his heart to stay still when the Guardian walks by, forces himself not to blush when they smile and wave, even if it feels like a dagger to the heart every time.   He'll bite back every confession. Hold every "I love you", every "I adore you", every "I don't need you to love me back. I just need you to know that I'm here for you. I just need you to know that I love you and I care and thank you for saving me thank you for believing in me thank you for letting me be more than what I was thank you thank you I love you I love you I love you. "  Even if it feels like swallowing fire every time he digs his fingers into his palm to distract himself from how pretty they look when the starlight hits their hair. How their eyes sparkle in the firelight. How the Light dances off their skin when they wield it in combat.  

Just being near them is enough.   Just getting to bask in their glory.  

It's like standing in the sunlight during a warm fall day. Loving her, is like... loving the sun. She is the sun. That's it, she's simply the sun. Something beautiful and infinite and endless and breathtaking in a way only something divine can be. Something deathly, incomprehensibly strong so gentle. Something you cannot live without, you need it.

The feeling of something so devastatingly incredible and cosmically powerful, and knowing it could never hurt you, knowing you are privileged enough to love it, even if you don't know if it could ever love you back.

There is a god before you. A god of death and destruction, armed with a million guns, with a smile like a thousand knives.  And they are flipping one in the air because they want to impress you.  

Blood and Light drip from her presence like ambrosia and honey from a goddess. She basks in the sunshine and smiles as she drives the knife into an enemy's chest. She is terrifying and she is deadly and she is lovely and she is wonderful, and he wants nothing more than to hold her close and call her his, but he cannot.

So for now he'll bask in the presence of the Young Wolf, knowing she could snap his fingers and decimate armies, knowing the hands that have held his so gently and guided him through hell have rended gods to ashes.

She could kill him in seconds, it wouldn't even be a struggle. But right now, she's teaching him how to spin a gun. She's so cavalier with it, so playful with death. She dances with it. And she holds her hands out to him once she releases the reaper from her grip. Her hands are so warm.

 And she insists on teaching you the box step between deployments in an infinite war.  Crow thinks maybe this is enough. He doesn't need her to love him back.

 He just needs these small stolen moments for forever.   

Her hands in his, pulling him close, eyes cast down to make sure he's following their steps.Her hands in front of his face, flipping a burning knife, a trick she learned to pass the time when she was the hunting monsters in the dark.Her hands around his, steadying his grip as teach him how to handle the Ace of Spades because "it's not a normal hand canon, trust me on that". He does. He trusts her with everything. It's when they're showing him how to use the Ace of Spades he realizes he's OK with them never telling him they love him back. He doesn't need that.

He just needs to memorize the way she tilts their arm up a bit when she goes to fire. A trick she learned to make the sights tilt down a bit and stay even when she's walking. He just needs to memorize the scars and dents on their gauntlets. She could never be bothered to buff them out. He just needs to memorize the grooves of their hands. The lifelines that may hint, in some strange cosmic way, at who they were before. He just needs to memorize the way they grow silent when analyzing a target. Intensely focused on the path of the bullet, the path to one less threat to her friends. He just needs to memorize the way her hair feels against his face, leaning in so close to ensure she can correct the way he's holding himself. He just needs to memorize the way she stands on her tip toes, even in the slight heels of a guardian's boots, so she can be at level with him. He just needs to memorize the words she breathed so quietly into his ear. "Don't move so much when you're aiming. You'll miss your shots if you tremble. Keep your head steady, don't flinch at the recoil, you aren't gonna get hurt by your own gun." He wasn't flinching because of the recoil. He just needs to memorize how real her voice was in that moment. The quiet tone, the genuine compassion, the sense of such profound emotion. The low husk, the almost musical cadence, the slight rasp from years of silence.

He just needs to memorize every part of her, how she makes him feel, and that's enough.  

Maybe one day, he'll memorize how her hair feels beneath his hands. How her head feels on his shoulder. How she smiles into kisses. How she blushes when she's complimented. Maybe one day he'll know everything about her.

  But for now, he'll just remember how she talks about her guns like they're people. How gently she handles that auto rifle she carries everywhere.   He'll remember her voice in his ear, how softly she speaks when she's alone with him.  

One day, he's sure, they'll have a life outside of the war.  But for now, he's happy to see her hang the Ace next to that little sidearm she loves so much. He's happy to watch her grin at the sword hanging in her ship, the one that crackles like firelight with the Iron Banner sigil stamped in. He's happy to take that auto rifle, the Khvostov, from her hands, happy to learn to see the battlefield, the whole world, how she does.

  He's happy to watch her fiddle with the neck of her cloak, play with the fur along the collar. Happy to watch her toss knives and shurikens into targets, watch her sharpen knives, and throw hit after hit into punching bags.

  For now, he'll love her as a warrior. Maybe forever.  

For now, maybe forever, he's happy to gently rouse her from where she falls asleep on the bench beside him, so tired from another mission she fell asleep still talking to him.   One day, he'll be able to carry her to their bed instead. But for now, he's happy to just be in her presence.

  He's happy to stand in the beams she casts off, as long as it means she's nearby.  

His heart skips a bit when she tells him his eyes are pretty. He thinks it stops when she tells him they're the color of honey, so amber they're almost golden, noting the embers flecking in his eyes, from Solar Light, she explains.

 If he died right then and there he would've lived a life fulfilled.  He can barely think to say something back.  Something about how she has nice eyes, too. Gray and blue with hints of gold, like the sky during a lightning storm.  The purple twining around the iris, the Void seeping into her sight, revealing secrets about the world.  

He thinks maybe she can see his soul like that. 

He hopes in equal measure she can't, can't see the depths of his longing, his desperate yearning. But if she could… if she could peer into his heart, see how much he adores her, his unselfish, nearly puppyish love for her…That wouldn't be too bad.

Maybe if she could see that he needs her like the sun. That he loves her like the moon loves the sun, enough to stand in it's shadow, enough to reflect it's light. He loves her like a ship loves an anchor, enough to be useless without it. He loves her like cold loves fire, enough to let it pierce through every part of him and banish every part of him that is wrong or deadly, melting together so beautifully and perfectly to create something new.

To him, she is both sun and moon. He is a mere star, glimpsing sublime majesty from an infinite distance away. His heart begs her to let him see but a glimpse of her, ever closer. Praying she never casts him off, but that one day she will draw him in closer so he may delight in her light now and evermore. Oh, dear sun! Oh, glorious moon! Lovely and dearest, most fair, most sublime. To see her is more than enough. To simply be in her shadow is enough to delight in. For in her is glory, in her is Light itself. In her is life and joy, his life, his joy, held in her hands, though she does not know it. Arms length, nothing closer, is enough. He needs not a step more. Simply to see her is enough to bring him joy. Simply to hear her laugh, see a smile grace her lips, that is enough for now.

Maybe one day, he'll have the courage to say something about that.

I AM UNWELL. Also this was originally a ko-fi exclusive but I like it too much.

ao3: houseofmcallister main account: houseofmcallister buy me a coffee!

Don’t repost my work or I’ll eat your shoulder blades! I do not consent to my works being used for AI training purposes.

#pspspspsp come get your juice!#please pleaSE PLEASE READ IT IT'S MY BEST WORK EVER.#crow x young wolf #crow x guardian #destiny 2 #destiny fanfic #destiny the game #destiny #fanfic #destiny fic #yearning #fluff #angst #destiny angst #destiny the game fanfic #the crow x the guardian

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prince-peachie · 2 years

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Okay so if you really think about it, so many of the characters in AFTG contradict themselves- it’s like the characters are foil characters of themselves. Hear me out:

Andrew drives recklessly but is very particular with who drives it. He lives his life like he has no care for it yet he is fiercely protective of the people/things he loves

Kevin is so driven about his accomplishments and future and yet feels like his future is doomed. As if he is so focused on controlling his current trajectory so he doesn’t think about how in the future, he knew the Moriyamas would come back for him

Neil internally thinks he acts in self preservation and his only objective is to survive, and yet never runs or actually takes steps towards his survival. He constantly endangers his life

Nicky tries to be this bright bubbly person, but there’s many times in the book he reveals there’s more under the surface he doesn’t show

The list goes on and on. I think it’s what makes all of the foxes so in depth and we connect to them. It’s because they all have pieces of themselves inside that don’t match what they show on the outside

#AFTG theories #aftg #aftg headcanon #renee has this sweet and loving exterior but has to fight to keep the darkness inside #Dan is fully committed to her team and the sport but doesn’t actually have an real plans for a career in it #Aaron acts like he hates his brother and yet sacrifices his love for his dream girl to keep his brother #Matt is friendly to everyone he meets yet becomes the closest to those who pushed him away in the beginning #like come on???

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sweethartlullaby · 1 year

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word count: 463 genre: angst, enemies to lovers song: i don’t understand but i love you - seventeen as always, imagine whoever you would like... sweethartlullaby ꕤ masterlist

There is a certain feeling he gets when you send a message. And each time, he feels it in the exact way you send it. For one, he instantly understands when you are happy. His shoulders escape their burdens and the world feels safe again. He also feels it when you are afraid, and he can sense the trails of your nightmares crawl up his skin.

But now, he isn’t sure if what he is feeling comes from you, or his own conscious. It is the doom one feels when he realizes his soulmate is his nemesis. It is the heavy crash one endures when he can see you without red. And it is the fear that sends his heart thumping against its cage as he imagines what his orders are doing to you.

When asked, no one could ever explain the feeling of realization. It is usually a joyous occasion. Two lovers, finding their match. But this wasn’t how he wanted to find out. He imagined a wedding, with a white dress and pink flowers. It never occurred to him that the one he had been longing for was the one who vowed to watch him bleed.

He realizes, as he speeds through cars, that you must realize it too. Through all the torture that you are enduring, you must have had the same lightbulb moment as he did. He can’t feel what you are feeling and his fear grows. He has never driven so recklessly, even when he was three bottles down and looking for a way to end it.

That was the first time he felt you. You were frustrated, almost as much as he was. He wondered what you were doing, and when your anger melted into sadness, he found himself slowing to a stop before his own tears fell. You had saved him that night and he promised to find you and thank you.

Now, he can’t be so sure he will be able to see you again. The beat of your anger is strong in his mind and he can’t push it away. He rushes the whole way through, climbing up two stairs at a time and gripping onto the railing for his life. He reaches the roof and he finds his men in a circle. The fear is loud and wild as it absorbs into his blood. He has no time to waste. He pushes through the crowd and there he finds you, struggling to lift your bloody face off the ground. He stands above you, holding his breath as he braces himself. He can’t kill you. This has to stop. He fists his hands and prepares to speak when you chuckle and stare directly into his eyes.

Cold, fierce, familiar.

“Glad you could make it.”

a/n: i’m so sorry for the messy layout. i’ll fix it as soon as possible but hi!! it’s been so long and i genuinely wasn’t sure when i would post again but here is just a short one after listening to SVT’S newest album! i love this song and it makes me feel so alive. i hope you’re all doing okay and i’ll try write some more!

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ordonianhero · 1 year

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Wild’s actions in the Sunset arc

DISCLAIMER: I would like to say I am not a licensed doctor or psychologist. I am taking this information based on things I have read and a bit of some personal experiences. Also like to note we are talking about fictional character, though we may feel a deep connection and see them as real through our own eyes, based on how we connect to them. So please dont take this too seriously.

So everyone remembers how Wild reacted when the shadow took Twilight down. He failed to listen to the Captain’s orders, and acting purely on emotion. Reckless. Most of wild’s reaction stems from his experiences with loosing people he cared for. PTSD if you want to call it that. However is you want to get much deeper into it beyond just “Oh well he watched all his friend’s die”, there’s a very deep underline reason as well and this is where in time with healing his impulsiveness will no longer be so and he will better think things through. An unconscious mind is never logical. It where all our feeling are driven by. It how we love,desire,fear,jealousy, sadness anger, and more. It drives our emotions and desires. His unconscious mind was working without the knowledge or control of a conscious mind. Our bains actually prepare for action 1/3 of a second before we consciously decide to act. Hence Wild acting with an unconscious mind. But who can blame him. I sure all of them wanted to react the way he did, he just happened to be the one who did what he did. Even if it ment putting his own life in danger. He just wasn’t thinking clearly and saw “red” as we can call it. So I even if he was to be thinking he was using his conscious decision, his unconscious mind actually made the decision for him.

Our conscious mind doesn’t control our emotions.

Now with that said, when it comes through experiencing things as traumatic as all the Links have experienced though their journeys before this very moment, it understandable why for some can be like Captain who knows they need to wipe out the rest of the enemies and avoid anyone else being injured, before taking on the challenge of taking on the shadow. Where as wild witness this evil thing hurt someone he deeply cares about and narrow focused on that instead of worrying about anything else. He was going to take revenge. Acting on emotion based on past experiences. There was nothing logical about it and its hard to understand this kind of behavior. Some might even want to say it could be about maturity as well, but I think no matter the age, we all been in a situation (and dont brush this off like “oh I would never do that, I would be like the Captain and know strategically they need to take on the rest before taking on shadow.”) where we responded through an unconscious mindset. Causing more harm then good in a situation. This how we get into emotional battle with friends instead of well communicating calmly in an emotion moment. I have done it and I have lost a few good friends cause of it. We make excuses like “Oh well-“ it doesn’t excuse the behavior. The lads havent had proper time to heal all their wounds and so their actions often reflect that of a unconscious mind. Why the Captain seem like he has a conscious mindset, cause he is trained in battle situations to know going in recklessly wont accomplish anything. Not saying he’s not emotional. Oh he is plenty emotional and probably hides it because in that moment emotions can not take part in that situation. At this point I think I have explained Wild behavior in the sunset arc.

So how can wild train to think more consciously then unconsciously? By liminal thinking, he can influence the unconscious mind. Giving back their ability to make rational and logical decisions. No longer influenced by illogically, emotionally,or irrational behavior. Reconditioning their unconscious mind. But again these are all fictional characters we are talking about, but in irl we as people can even train our minds to a more conscious way of thinking in emotional situations. WE are limited by what we pay attention to. Only noticing the things specific to ones immediate reality. The society someone grew up in, influencers in their lives and life experiences. Based on experiences and how one sees things, one makes assumptions. Through assumptions one draws their own conclusions and that how ones beliefs are formed. Beliefs being from everything what someone “knows’ to be true.

So wild in his reaction is was in the belief Twilight was dead, from the only info he was given. That he couldn’t be healed. There for dead. And that my friend is why Wild acting how he did, even when confronting Four. His unconscious mind was driving him.

Once he got away and mulled over it in a more conscious mind set, did he make something in hopes it could help. His emotions still there, but he was no longer being influenced by them. Thinking more logically. Not saying being emotional is wrong. I think everyone is allowed to feel their emotions, it more about what you do with them. You can be sad, mad, etc….and still be able to respond to thing in a less irrational way. Anywho. I think i said enough on this. I am curious what you all think? Feel free to share your thoughts. It’s encourage actually. Also there is no wrong answer here, everyone will have a different way of seeing things and that is completely valid. I just wanted to shared kind of a cool thing I learned that had me processing the whole sunset arc and wild’s behavior.

And as to what sparked this? I myself am going through therapy and going through the process of leaning to think with a more conscious mind then unconscious one when in tough situations. Just learning this stuff I find it pretty interesting and challenging at the same time. So that what got me thinking about Wild and is actions.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #little by of cool psychology and Lu mix #dont take this too seriously #i was just writing to write a cool thought on how this applies to the chain #lu wild

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nrnyx · 2 years

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How about Derek as a firefighter I've been craving those but I think I've read everything out there and I think you could write him really good that way. it doesn't have to be anything sterek but bonus points if it is!

“How was work?” Stiles asked, setting the bowl of reheated chicken fettuccini in front of Derek before sticking himself in the space between the arm of the sofa and Derek‘s warm body. He was freshly showered, hair still dripping wet, but he’d missed a smudge of soot behind his left ear, and Stiles used his thumb to rub it away while Derek dug into his meal.

“It’s late. You should be in bed.” Was Derek’s answer, which Stiles expected because Derek never did like to talk about his work - well, unless it was some idiot who’d set the Bar-B-Q on fire again, then Derek could complain for hours.

“I’m not tired.” Stiles knew Derek could hear the lie as soon as it left his lips, but even without his werewolf senses, the massive yawn Stiles let out a second after would have given him away. As soon as Stiles heard Derek’s truck number responding to the fire, he’d driven straight over to Derek’s apartment in the middle of the night, not even bothering to throw a jacket on over the Beacon Hills Fire Department t-shirt he’d stolen from Derek’s closet or the grey sweat pants he normally slept in.

Stiles shrugged at Derek’s raised eyebrows. “I can’t sleep when I know you’re out there running recklessly into burning buildings.”

Derek sighed, staring hard at his bowl of food as if it had offended him somehow. “I really wish you wouldn’t listen to your father’s scanner anymore.”

Stiles was quiet for a long minute, just breathing in Derek’s clean scent as he brought his legs up and pressed his face against Derek’s shoulder to curl into him closer. Derek never did leave the heat on in his apartment. “I worry.”

“You really shouldn’t.”

Right because they weren’t really even together, because Stiles was too young, because he was still in school, because he was the Sheriff’s son, because he was human, because Derek was dangerous, because being with Derek was as good as a death sentence, because Derek’s job was going to get him killed one day, because… because… because, and all the other fucking stupid excuses Derek threw at him, because Derek couldn’t just tell him to go away. Because Derek didn’t really want him to.

“Well, I do, so you’re just going to have to get over yourself and eat the fucking chicken fettuccini that I made you two days ago because you don‘t care enough to fucking feed yourself.” Stiles snapped, not really meaning to, but he was just so tired of being held at arm's length. If Derek really didn’t want him, he should just tell him to go away. He should take his key back and not let Stiles get so close.

It hurt.

Derek sighed, his hand coming up to rub the back of Stiles’ neck. “I’m eighteen, you know.”

“I know.”

“I graduate in a few months.”

“I know.”

Stiles nuzzled his face against Derek’s warm skin, letting his lips drag over the bare flesh - as close to a kiss as he’d ever get because it wasn’t allowed. Then he pushed himself away and walked back to the kitchen to throw away what was left of the food and put away dishes he’d hand-washed while waiting on Derek to get back. He tended to clean when he was anxious about something, and ever since Derek had decided to become a firefighter, of all things, the apartment, as well as his dad’s house, remained spotless.

#sterek fic #stiles stilinski #sterek #derek hale #sterek au #sterek fanfiction #sterek fanfic #stiles x derek #eternal sterek #sterek fics #prompt #short prompt

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funkymbtifiction · 1 year

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Hi Charity! I have a question about ENJ and ESJ I would love to hear your opinions about. Usually the 'know exactly what they want and pursue it at all cost' and 'having firm path in life' stereotype is associated with ENJs, correct?

Sometimes INJ more than ENJ, to be honest. But yes, high Ni tends to get a sense of where they ought to be going and move in that direction. It's not always clearly visualized -- like my ENFJ friend says, she doesn't know where her degree in psychology is going to lead, just that she knows she ought to get it and it will open the doors she needs to get where she wants to go one day, even though the end result is not clearly defined yet. Her intuition has never guided her wrong in this before, so she trusts it and follows it. She can just look ahead and imagine herself somewhere or with a certain plaque on her desk and she sees that as her goal. It's very inner-visionary.

But wouldn't it be more ESJ thing than ENJ thing? Especially in young people (18-25). This comes from my personal experience, but my ESTJ sister was very driven and has a firm path in life from a very young age. She has the plan all made out all the way to her retirement and actively acted on it. Another ESFJ I know also know exactly what she has to do and possess similar long term thinking.

SJ types tend to be sensible in terms of knowing what works, what lasts, and what is realistic, so they settle into things by having realistic expectations for themselves, yes. TJs in particular know what they want and go get it as high-energy, driven extroverts. Their long term thinking is sensible in nature -- I will do this for life, then I will retire, and do what retired people do or have these hobbies. This is a different form of long-term thinking than James Cameron having to wait 30 years for technology to catch up to his vision for Avatar (and to make that happen, he threw all of his money into developing the computer technology he would eventually need, and in the meantime, the world changes and becomes uncertain -- a detail he did not plan for...).

Meanwhile, ENJs I know (me, ENFJ and an ENTJ acquaintance) barely know what we want out of life. We just ... live. Any opportunity that comes our way, we snatch 'em. We just live and don't really care much about our future. I'd say we live pretty recklessly. Spending on a whim (though not the 'take all my money, gals!!!' kind of whim), not having solid future plan, don't really know what we want out of life. It took us a lot of efforts to know what we want out of life and stick to it.

This is where I would question your typing skills and whether you are handing out ENJ typings too readily. Proportionally there are not a lot of them so it's unlikely to be running in a pack with them. Yes, it's possible for tert-Se to be reckless, and yes, it can be hard to develop Ni, but it also works consciously in the background even when under-developed to give ENJs impressions and insights and direction. It's very easy for ESPs and ENPs to mistype themselves ENJs. So if this behavior is persistent without any visible Ni, I'd question ENJ.

My ENTJ acquaintance is working in film industry now because he wants to make his own movies. And me working toward becoming a marine raider. We both tell ourselves 'if only I know what I want earlier in life by now we would be so close to success'. For him, it was doing what makes money. For me, it was doing what people expect me to do.

It's possible to be an EP and feel like this. I am not saying you are mistyped, although it's also quite possible, and ENTPs in particular are extremely focused on getting attention and approval when they are attachment types.

That said, I believe ENJ stereotype seems to better fit how ESJs are in real life more than ENJs. Not that I imply there aren't any ENJ that fits the stereotype though. I think ENJs are more similar to ESP stereotype (reckless, impulsive, live on a whim, not knowing what they want out of life) unless we actively develop Ni. Because developing Ni takes work and it's not easy to look inward and visualize exactly what you want out of life. Much less sticking to it since there are so many distractions along the way.

I'm on the fence with this declaration, because yes... and no.

Once ENJs find what they want, they move in that direction. Not having a clue what you want or any specific direction you are moving in for a long time is indeed more EP than ENJ. My father is an ENFJ and he has been on the same path for 30 years. 30 years ago he saw an opportunity for a business, a space no one else was filling, so he sold an idea to people (literally, based on a mock-up) and now we are all part of his dream. He did have many careers before that in sales, but even in his reckless times (over-spending or doing stupid, short-sighted things) he still had a present Ni in being insightful into people and their motivations and needs and strategizing for the future and/or predicting how thing would go. When looking for an ENJ, you need to see Ni as well, not JUST Se. Insight, depth, predictions.

At the same time, we can tell someone is ENJs and ESJs even when ENJs might look like a sensor type and ESJs look like ENJs. One is hard line realistic (Si-Ne) while the other is vague and often impulsive in a bad way (Ni and weak Se). If anything, low Se to me is a LOT more short-sighted than high Se. We pick our opportunities poorly (lead to nothing or bring us down rabbit holes) while high Se knows which opportunity holds water. And that means we are even more reckless and short-sighted. What do you think about this? :)

I agree that tert-Se tends to pick the wrong things, but Se/Ne-dom can also be short-sighted, easily distracted, and lack purpose, especially when you are young.

#question #mbti #estp #entp #esfp #enfp #entj #enfj

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lifeandlies-of-regulusblack · 10 months

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Hmm… I guess my fandom experience must be different because I feel like I rarely see people saying Regulus let Sirius be abused or blaming him for it but i do see a lot of people saying that Sirius abandoned Regulus, had a responsibility to Regulus that he failed by leaving an abusive household, and was a bad brother bc he left. And it often comes from people who claim to love both brothers and their relationship and want to portray them fairly, which leads me to believe it’s an almost subconscious bias that some people aren’t aware they have. Idk just my two cents.

Scarcity and bias, huh?

I'm not saying i don't see people doing the same shit to sirius but i have to disagree with you, on regulus being victim blamed, being a rarity. Then again, you DID say your fandom experience must've been different from mine.

I've seen people talk and write about abuse like some sick test of character that sirius passed, because he fought and ran away and regulus failed, because he stayed and didn't fight back. I'm so sick of it.

Regulus has been getting a lot of sus takes on quora, on reddit, on tumblr, and even in popular fic tropes. One of the most popular and enduring headcanons in the fandom across multiple media forms is that sirius is the sibling who does his best to stand up to their parents, making sure to take punishment for regulus as well. However brave (and tragic), this is almost ALWAYS, ALWAAAAYYYYSSS paired with depictions of regulus, cast in a light of someone who simply didn't fight for his brother just as hard, in the shadow of cowardice. and let me tell you, nonnie -- i've seen people take this to the next level. I'm gonna put the rest of my answer under the cut because BOI do i have a lot to say about this.

One of the dude's most popular characterizations is being reduced to a coward. Too cowardly to stand up for his brother. Too cowardly to say no to abusive parents. Too cowardly to run away (never mind his lack of financial and social support outside his family). In stories where he survives the cave, I've seen his willingness to die angled like his inability to deal with guilt, -- often framing suicide as a metaphor for cowardice. And people have been dissing regulus for this... too many times!

People will diss on regulus for the mere act of staying behind. For being the brother who failed to make the same decisions as sirius, when the two never really had the same choices to begin with! When the two never had the same access to help. Or resources to grow out of indoctrination and/or de-radicalization.

Regulus is very much! often! used as a moral foil for his brother :)

And I'm not saying the opposite doesn't happen to sirius. It does and I also think it's beyond painfully stupid to hate on another abuse victim for leaving.

But regulus also gets a lot of shit from people saying stuff that are borderline victim blaming. This isn't a rarity you're making it out to be. I've seen iterations/headcanons of him being unable to fight back in response to abuse, be recklessly compared to sirius and andromeda's actions with an astounding lack of awareness when it comes to the matter at hand.

Because for most people, it's a lot easier to empathize with someone who you think is responding to abuse "correctly" by fighting back, being vocal, and running away. In contrast to someone who responds to trauma "wrongly" by staying, silent, doing as told to avoid punishment, and staying because they believe they've nowhere else to go.

And on bias, idk about you but I got into this fandom a whole ass sirius stan. I mourn my loss of enjoyment and connection to him, driven largely by fandom discourse and characterization. I used to LOVE the man! It was a slow and gradual process of seeing so many people try to justify his actions by making regulus as evil as can be! And I would've been fine if they turned him into an actual villain (that would've been fun)! But people do so by angling valid and very real trauma responses to abuse -- as selfish and self-serving.

I did not start out in this fandom as a regulus stan. So, this whole thing is not about me looking at this issue as someone prepared to make regulus out to be the innocent victim (boi still went on to be a death eater for a short while before snapping out of it). I've truly seen this stuff one too many times, and it's even caused a huge and stupid rift between myself and what used to be my favorite character.

me being a regulus acc now, is due to me finding much more connection and concern for the dude, while i was out parading as a sirius stan and seeing some of the takes others have put out about regulus.

At no point have i ever devalued or dismissed sirius' side of things. you won't see me doing that shit here.

I'm sorry to say that i haven't been "subconsciously" making shit up, my friend. I've just seen this way too many times, you're kinda lying a lil if you think you haven't seen at least half of the stuff I'm talking about in the fandom. then again, maybe you're not. we're just seeing different things.

idk. that's just my two cents.

#disk horse #ur gurl used to be whole ass sirius stan ://#fun fact #ngl I'm not cool with some of the things you're implying here #but I'm gonna answer in good faith

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pens-in-a-jam-jar · 1 year

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As is my tradition for anything I get sufficiently attached to, I've turned the Rolling With Difficulty PCs into magical girls. I picked their shows based on what would best fit their vibes, personalities, and arcs, so if you wanna play a trivially easy game, try figuring out which shows were applied to which crewmember and why, then click 'keep reading'. Tell me your results and what you thought in the tags n' such. (VR-LA's is the hardest one to guess but I feel like that's really not saying much) If you just wanna see my speedpaint, you can skip the game part.

Firstly is VR-LA. His magical girl transformation comes in the form of: Yuki Yuna is a Hero. A show I would never reccomend for someone to watch and is not good to riff on with friends, but I fully unironically loved it a lot when I was in the 7th grade. It's part moe club show, part secret dystopia, part Dark Magical Girl show, all deeply confused about itself its plot and what it's even trying to do, And Also the transformation sequences are So Uncomfortable. But! It has underdeveloped thematic elements of ignorance, discovery, fragility, and protection that fit Real Fuckin' Good for VR-LA, and also it is canon that you can lose your memories as a result of burning yourself out/price for power within the magic system so Bonus Amnesia Powerful Robot Points✨️! Also each girl gets a flower that I have to presume is thematically connected to her character, but I'm not fluent in flower language, so I did some light research and chose yellow begonias for reasons I no longer remember.

Next up is Dani. She's rocking: Revolutionary Girl Utena. I never assign shows I'm not familiar with so I literally picked up watching Revolutionary Girl Utena just to verify my strong hunch that it would make a good pick for Dani, and I was right! The entire first phase of the show revolves around Utena not giving a fuck about everyone else's nonsense as they spout vague jargon she absolutely does not care about or for. The structure of everyone around Utena outwardly caring way more about The Big Existential Questions at the core of the show (power and revolution, secrets lies and the truth, the inevitability of death) while Utena just calls it like she sees it and says 'I don't care about your revolution or the mechanics of this strange mystical nonsense, I care that you people are mistreating Anthy who is Clearly Already Deeply Damaged, and if whatever you chucklefucks are doing necessitates the mistreatment of a woman, I will stand against it.'; that structure fits So Well for Dani who cares only for herself and her closer associates and recklessly chases her gremlin impulses and personal desires no matter where they take her. She cares not for restriction and anything she deems such is violently rejected, 'You can only keep what you can fix and maintain', this absolutely fits the story of a gnc teenager getting wrapped up in a bunch of nonsense who makes her north star in the mire the care and keeping of another damaged girl.

Moving on, we have Finbar. His magical girl show de jour is: Cardcaptor Sakura. Gonna be real, his was the choice I was least confident in because Finbar as a character does not mesh into the magical girl genre easily; he is a primarily contented quiet man in his mid thirties with a storied life history, this is not the archetype that clicks snugly and smoothly into a genre built around self discovery, romance, redemption, and saving the world and your community through the power of love and friendship. But! The sense of comfort, security, and reliability that Finbar so easily embodies is exactly the vibe in Cardcaptor Sakura. It's the way his voice during a nice moment feels like being driven to school or sitting down for a meal, and in a bad situation sounds like someone rushing to your side or smacking away the thing coming to hurt you. It's how Sakura developing her little 'No matter what, I'll be alright' phrase mirrors Finbar's confidence that no matter how rough things get, all wrong things can be made right with a bit of work, grace, and time. It's about me not having to create a transformation outfit for him when I have no ideas that I don't think look stupid. I really loved basing his staff on his moon sickle and fairy theming.

Last but absolutely not least iiiisss Kyana~! Her magical girl show is well and away the easiest to guess since it's right in the name: she's a Pretty Cure. Now, Pretty Cure is massive and I haven't seen all of the shows, so to make her outfit, I cross referenced all the commonalities I noticed between the shows searching for the underlying design philosophy of the franchise and came out the other side with the old version that I fully redid from the ground up because it was incredibly C- and I like all my art to be a B or higher. It's not up there with the others, but you can find it just below this paragraph. At first I thought it was that Kyana fit the vibes, structure, and pathos of Precure, (very upbeat, leans real hard into Power Of Friendship, light and fluffy hand in hand with being sincere and not being shallow like her simplicity may make one assume) but didn't fit the visual design philosophy so it was just some inevitable clash I could do nothing about, but I realized about a month later that no! It was that I never gave her a theme! Each Precure team is variations on a core theme, and all I did was give her an outfit that could be described as Pretty Cure-esque.

I made a whole speedpaint about it, and am much happier with my Star Voyager Themed Kyana.

Here's the aforementioned speedpaint:

youtube

If you went thru the trouble of reading my Progressively Longer Paragraphs, you are a gem. Hav day♡

#rolling with difficulty #rwd art #dani rwd #finbar #kyana rwd #yuki yuna is a hero #revolutionary girl utena #cardcaptor sakura #pretty cure #precure #magical girl #mahou shoujo #speedpaint #Youtube #VR-LA #art jar

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deathdxnces · 5 months

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speaking of irelia's trauma, i mentioned plenty of times before irelia hasn't really healed from anything that happened to her. she did not deal with her grief, and it only grew worse with time, festering also in the form of added anger and hatred she carries. but the unhealed trauma impacts her on many ways beyond that.

irelia doesn't sleep well. if you ask her, she'll say she doesn't remember if she ever did, but that started during the war. when she was a child, after her family died, she'd more often than not have NIGHTMARES about their deaths; she wasn't there to witness it, but that doesn't mean her mind didn't conjure horrible scenarios for her to watch. as the war went on and irelia became more involved, i think she'd also have nightmares with other things she saw and lived through, from gruesome deaths and grisly battles to horrific scenarios as what the chembombs did to bahrl and its people. many years later, she'll still get nightmares. she dreams with the stand at the placidium very often; i also said that before but remembering the placidium is not an active choice. other people might forget, but she can't. the memory is kept alive in the worst possible ways as much as it is by the people who celebrate her for the victory.

there is also a constant state of TENSION and even paranoia that never really left her. irelia is always ready to fight. it's very rare for her to completely let her guard down. the staying alert is a constant. and i also spoke about it before, but she's always been certain there'll be another war, and while in part her desire to prepare and have ionia able to defend itself is sensible, a lot of it is also driven by her trauma. if noxus never returned, she'd still spend a lifetime expecting they would. the war ended, but it never left her. i'm not sure even if/when the empire was defeated a second time irelia would be able to really put down her blades and stop looking over her shoulder expecting them to be planning another attack.

and combining those two, she rarely sleeps well or for long periods of time. even without the nightmares, irelia has trouble falling asleep and staying asleep.

she also displays symptoms of ptsd such as engaging in RECKLESS BEHAVIOR ( irelia is very impulsive and prone to action and risk without careful thought. she will throw herself into dangerous situations recklessly and really don't care if she lives or dies ), ongoing negative emotions ( with ANGER AND GUILT being prevalent ), FEELING ISOLATED and avoiding reminders of her experiences when she can ( so don't expect her to actually be at the placidium very often ).

#» out of character — ⌜main sup irl.⌟#» character study — ⌜both the tranquil sea and the tempest.⌟#am thinknig.... about her head being not ok....#ksjdnfaskjnf

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sashred · 2 years

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Welllll, I went and did another spec baby bit for this Sunday's episode. Warning...pure angst and Ashley shenanigans ahead, because that's just how it worked out :)

It hadn’t felt like it at the time – like they were doing anything wrong. They were undercover, and that was fine. They’d already agreed that they would do whatever was necessary to nail the case, because that was work. That was their job, and they both agreed on how important it was. How it mostly came first.

Inviting him into her apartment hadn’t been work, though. The flash of reluctance Tim had shown before coming through her door was proof enough of that. They weren’t undercover at that point, no more pretenses, excuses.

That…that, had been wrong.

Almost cheating on her boyfriend, who had been bleeding out – dying – on her couch, because she couldn’t take facing Rosalind again. Because she hadn’t been there to protect him. That was wrong.

Tim almost cheating on Ashley, who was now standing beside his hospital bed, helping the nurse prop him up so she could change the bandages on his side. That was wrong.

Lucy was wrong.

What was she even doing here?

Somewhere along the line, Lucy had become the one thing that she swore she’d never be – the other woman. The problem. The obstacle.

No, they hadn’t done anything – but it didn’t matter. They would have. Lucy wanted to. Still, even as her insides burned with guilt and shame, her traitorous eyes tearing as she watched Ashley fuss over Tim, hold him, smile at him…she wanted to be the one doing those things.

She wanted him…and she had to leave. Now.

Lucy spun away from the sight, grateful at least for the fact that they had been too wrapped up in each other to notice her, and ran headlong into a white-coated woman.

“Hey, easy there,” the woman said cheerfully enough, steadying the basket that nearly came tumbling out of Lucy’s hands. “What’s the rush?”

“Oh. I uh, you know. Didn’t look like a good time to be lurking – standing,” she corrected herself, “standing around with…you know, them getting all medical in there. HIPPA, and all that.” She winced, the words ridiculous even to her, but she was honestly just glad something had come out.

“It’s no problem,” the woman, a Dr. Patel according her name tag, replied. “You’re here to see Tim Bradford, I take it?” she asked, taking in Lucy’s uniform.

“Oh…yeah, well. I mean, yes. But I’m just going to go wait outside. Until, you know, the nurse is done.”

“They should be finished soon. Did you want me to let them know you’re here?”

“No,” Lucy practically shouted, trying to smile as the woman ticked a brow. “No, it’s fine. Really. I’ll just text him – ”

“Lucy?” a woman’s voice came from behind her, and her heart rose to her throat.

“Hey, Ashley,” she managed, forcing her smile to spread wider as she turned back around.

“Hey.” Ashley placed a hand on her arm, the warmth in her eyes sending a spike of guilt straight through her gut. “I didn’t know you were coming by, but I’m so glad you did. Is that from the station?” she asked, nodding to the basket she held in her arms.

“Oh, this?” Lucy stammered, glancing down at cellophane wrapped goods she’d so carefully picked out and packed herself, and decided there wasn’t anything she could do but nod. “Yeah, yep. Sure is. I, uh, got elected to bring it on over.”

“That means a lot. Seriously. Tell everyone we said thanks, I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Will do,” Lucy said shortly, glancing over her head.

“I…I heard it was pretty crazy how it all went down yesterday,” Ashley hedged, and Lucy took a breath, fighting the tightness in her throat.

“Yeah, it was,” she said, remembering the way her heart had all but stopped when she’d heard Thorson’s voice over the radio calling “officer down.” She’d never driven so fast, so recklessly in all of her life, making it on the scene just as Thorson was cuffing a freaking hulk of a man, Tim laid out on the floor next to him, clutching his side.

The man had been high as a kite on some serious crap, raging in the middle of a restaurant, and at some point in the brawl while Tim was trying to take him down, apparently a particularly ill-placed blow from the man’s fist had aggravated something, something serious. As soon as she’d made sure he wasn’t shot or stabbed, it clicked in her head what must have happened. He was clutching the same area where he’d been shot on her first day. When she’d had do drag him bleeding and helpless behind a dumpster, trying to hold his blood in with her bare hands.

Lucy had ridden with him to the hospital, explained to the doctors the best she could the extent of his previous injury, and that had been that. She’d been back at the station a few hours later, placed as Thorson’s partner until Tim returned, and given half of his caseload to boot.

“The surgery went well,” Ashley said, smiling. Squeezing her arm. “A few stitches, some bedrest, and he should be good as new.”

“That’s…that’s great,” Lucy sighed, nodding. “Everyone will be so relieved to hear that.”

“Did you…were you just here to drop off the basket, or did you want to see him, too?” Ashley asked, and Lucy would have sworn her eyes tightened ever so slightly. Lucy’s stomach flipped, the double meaning in her question all too apparent, and knew what she wanted her to say.

“You know, things are pretty crazy back at the station,” Lucy said, her breath hitching ever so slightly. “And uh, it seems like he’s in good hands. Here.” She passed the basket off to Ashley, biting her cheek as she glanced one more time at the door behind her.

“Hey, I get it,” Ashley said. “Demands of the job. Oh, and I really do appreciate you being there for him when it happened. Giving the doctors all that info about his old injury right away. You really came through.”

“Any time,” Lucy answered tightly. “Yeah, so… I’ll see you around.”

“Sure. I’ll let him know you came by.”

“Thanks,” she nodded again, imagining that she must have looked like some kind of ridiculous bobble head toy to anyone nearby. She practically sprinted out of that hallway as soon as Ashley retreated back into Tim’s room, making it out to her shop before the worst of the emotion overtook her.

She didn’t even cry. Not then, at least. At first her breathing was a problem, but she realized what was happening pretty quickly. It was fairly common now, after all… the anxiety attacks. But, she’d gotten much better at controlling them the past few times. Distracting herself, focusing herself. She dug into one of the reports that sat unfinished on her computer, and then another. Thorson was out on an assist with Angela and Nyla, something to do with a case Nolan had caught, so if she sounded a little too gaspy, her face red and hands shaking as she did it, it was fine.

Her phone buzzed beside her on the console, but she took a moment before glancing down.

“Almost there,” she breathed, the tightness in her chest lessening, her hands steadier. A few more minutes and another report would probably do the trick.

Or, it would have, if she hadn’t finally relented and glanced down at her phone.

"Thanks for the basket."

#chenford #chenford fanfic #the rookie fanfic #tim x lucy #haha sorry I think?#but also not really #I have a feeling this sundays episode is going to kill me

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