Today's Document
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
tumblr dot com
ojovivo
occasionally subtle
$LAYYYTER
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
oozey mess
No title available
almost home
Origami Around
Sade Olutola
todays bird
PR's Tumblrdome
祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
No title available
Janaina Medeiros
TVSTRANGERTHINGS
I'd rather be in outer space 🛸
seen from Italy
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from Malaysia
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from India
seen from United States
seen from Taiwan
seen from United States
seen from Germany
@4senna
“I think perhaps I will always hold a candle for you – even until it burns my hand. And when the light has long since gone …. I will be there in the darkness holding what remains, quite simply because I cannot let go.” — ranata suzuki.
4𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖆 pri. ind. sel. canon-divergent. lucian. written by sean. he/they, 23, EST. 18+ only. click for: rules. threads. musings. inbox.
“I think perhaps I will always hold a candle for you – even until it burns my hand. And when the light has long since gone …. I will be there in the darkness holding what remains, quite simply because I cannot let go.” — ranata suzuki.
4𝖘𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖆 pri. ind. sel. canon-divergent. lucian. written by sean. he/they, 23, EST. 18+ only. click for: rules. threads. musings. inbox.
IND. PRI. SEL. - LUCIAN by SEAN. Haven't been on here in years. Please LIKE or REBLOG this post if you're active in the League of Legends RPC in 2025.
i'd like to take a minute to acknowledge the second between senna first emerging from the lantern and her shielding lucian from thresh's hook; that brief yet unbearably long moment where lucian both recovered what he'd lost and yet seemed to again have it stolen in a different way altogether. for a blink of the eye which, for him, was excruciatingly long, lucian truly did think senna had been turned against him. and while he would bear no ill will towards her, even had it been true, it would have shattered him so much more. briefly, it did.
it's important to recognize, as well, lucian had no desire to bring senna back. of course he wanted her back, but to actually take any action to do so would go against his instrinsic beliefs. he was trying to free her soul so that it could pass on to nothingness (lucian believing in no afterlife) rather than suffer in the lantern. senna was and, in a way, still is a literal ghost to him.
imagine experiencing that. that first moment especially. the fallen love of your life suddenly stands before you, a woman whose memory has been the sole driving force behind your will to live for years, a woman whose memory you can't sleep over, and the first thing she does -- without saying anything -- is shoot you in the face.
Forugh Farrokhzad, Asir (Captive); from ‘Grief’, tr. Sholeh Wolpé
“And I would wander across all the deserts of this world, even after death, to search for you—”
— Alejandra Pizarnik, Extracting the Stone of Madness; from ‘The Dream of Death, or The Site of the Poetical Bodies’, tr. Yvette Siegert
Washed up. Forgotten.. That had become this woman who bore witness to the destruction of her perfect life. Picked apart and left desolated by ramifications she could have never predicted.
Darkness licked the floorboards of the once beautiful home now cast in the gloom of agony and fatigue. Shadows pulsed and mists of dark and vibrant, hollowed light flitted from them, reaching out like long claws ready to latch upon anything that they could catch.
The looming oppression slowly manifested with thick, smokey clouds crawling along the duvet she lay within. Her head rested upon old, dusty pillows with breaths shallow and pained.
“So your body decays–” he whispered into the air around her. Not yet fully manifested. His essence swirling in a mix of eerie cyan and ebony, “–so have I come to collect.”
“I do not–” the woman coughed. Choked upon the fluids that filled her lungs, “–f-fear… you… Thresh..”
But he knew she did. She feared the separation of her body from her soul. The denial of Kindred to take her to the beyond. To eternal rest and instead find herself collected within the confines of his lantern.
He didn’t have to answer her remark. He knew that she knew. And would confirm it soon enough. The smokey essence pooled beside her body with sickle hooked over the canopy of her bed, and the lantern hovered over her dying form. The sound of a heavy inhale pulled her eyes open as Thresh drank in the stench of despair, and fear. For all the cruelties she had faced, he was the bringer of such depriving her of happiness. Taking her husbands. Her children. Her family until there was nothing left but lonely misery. “Cling clang go the chains..” he whispered with that frightening skeletal visage nearing to her face. “I always… gets… what I desire.”
There was no compassion to be found. No ease of suffering. No rest. The curved blade plunging downward, basking in the scream of her body, and her soul being ripped from her breast. A cruel laughter follows, rising to a full stand. Cling… clang… Chains drug behind him, knocking a candle against the rotting curtain to set the home aflame. A small fire rapidly racing out of control as it takes over the room.
@4senna
Nowadays, nights spent alone bothered Lucian more than they had before his wife’s return. At the very least, those evenings spent wandering about Runeterra by his lonesome, always desperately pursuing some new lead in his quest to just help her move on, were finite in the losses he stood at risk to suffer. But she had returned, and so too had the potential for his world to be stolen once more. Each dreadful moment separated from Senna was another chance for the world to take her away again. If she were here, he could fight, kill, do whatever he must to keep her at his side. While she was gone, he could only pray to meet her gaze again before his eyes closed for sleep, lest those haunting dreams return.
In any case, something about tonight was off. He knew the chill that hung in the air all too well; it was a premonition, almost, steeling his nerves for whatever horrors lied in wait for their chance at that delectable mortal suffering he’d come to decide all the Isles’ beings craved. It was the burden of all Sentinels to sense it at every turn; they all seemed to have a knack for running into wicked beasts, even far from the dead shores of that cursed island, and he was no different. Neither was she.
Where was she?
A scream— a woman’s scream —plunged his heart into the pits of his stomach, and in an instant he’d taken flight. The Sentinel’s cloak whipped about the air behind him, dragged along by his panicked sprint. He had not given a course of action any thought, only plunged into the darkness, following the cry. Lucian had no gods to plead with to ensure it was not her.
The trees thinned out, and he saw a house. Relief had not washed over him yet. A sickening green light shone through a window, and Lucian did not have to think any harder as to why the evening felt so wrong. There was his answer. Still he ran, rapidly approaching the house; a beam of light shot from one pistol, shattering glass, creating an opening to tumble through. He crashed into the home unceremoniously, but was quick to scramble upright, both guns aiming down the beast he knew all too well.
Thresh.
And, it occurred to him, he was already too late. Blood seeped from that terrible scythe’s wound like the tide. He had seen that same, sickening grin before; once, it stood over his wife. The image was almost enough to send him reeling and force memories best left buried to the surface... but he had to be stronger than that. He had to believe there might still be a chance to save her soul yet... unlikely as it was.
“How dare you come here!?” Lucian hissed through gritted teeth, enraged. Surely it could be no coincidence he’d found Thresh hunting so close to he and Senna’s camp. His pistols had already lit up in a blaze, and he was firing upon Thresh immediately. A part of him knew it would be in vain, just as it always was; they’d already played this song and dance a thousand times, and neither ever seemed to truly best the other. “This is the last time you’re gettin’ away! I ain't gonna let you hurt nobody else!”
DEVELOPMENT: CHILDHOOD & FAMILY.
on his family; Lucian was born and raised in Graygate, for the town provided easy access to transportation for his father’s work. Lucian’s family bore no surname, as they were by all means commoners; his father was the only one of the trio with some shreds of reputation for his position as a Sentinel. Lucian was an only child, and frankly, an accident. His parents bore no intentions of having children due to the nature of his father’s work; of course, life happened anyway, and Aria gave birth to a boy while Urias was away.
on his father; Urias was a somewhat well-known and respected figure for his work as a Sentinel, often referred to as “Urias the Pure-Hearted.” Notably, he often assisted House Crownguard and the royal family with defense preparations for the Harrowing each year, even though Demacia was seldom in any real danger. Such relations were not known to the public, but because of it, Lucian did have the opportunity to meet Jarvan IV in his youth. Lucian absolutely idolized his father. His developmental years could best be related to that of a kid with a parent in the military; Urias would go on “deployments,” so to speak, when he was out combatting the Black Mist. Often he would be gone for months on end and missed plenty of important moments in Lucian’s life, like birthdays. However, when he returned, he was sure to give his son plenty of attention and share with him all the exciting encounters he’d faced. Such stories left Lucian desperate to become a Sentinel, but Urias refused to ever let Lucian take up the mantle of apprenticeship under him. Lucian always paid the refusals no heed; surely, he thought, he just wasn’t old enough yet... When Urias died, Lucian did not find out for weeks; it wasn’t until Senna arrived at his doorstep that he learned of his fate. Learning of his father’s death absolutely devastated him.
on his mother; Aria was considerably more present than Urias in Lucian’s life. She worked as a seamstress, and together, they lived simply. Ironically, Aria was far less protective of him than his father; she openly encouraged him when he decided he would take up arms protecting exiled mages, and was proud of her son for finding his own way to make a difference. They were incredibly close in his youth, because most of the time, it was just the two of them. Lucian did whatever he could to help out around the house, but as he grew older he started to become less present; just as his father often disappeared for months on end, he, too, started to go off on journeys as per his work with mages and it would be long before he returned. Aria died before Urias, due to sickness. It happened while he was away from home, assisting in protecting a mage family en route to the hinterlands. Lucian did not learn of his mother’s death until he returned to an empty house and was informed of her falling ill and deteriorating by a neighbor. Lucian felt awful for having left her alone for her death, and that marked the end of his assisting mages. He stayed alone in his family home for months, taking odd jobs around Graygate to get by, before eventually Senna knocked on his door and he learned that his other parent was also gone.
Ken Moody, 1985 - Ph. Robert Mapplethorpe
when you’ve lost it all , ʜ ᴏ ᴘ ᴇ ʜ ᴜ ʀ ᴛ s .
death moves amongst us these silent beasts are hard to bear
starter for @genesisoul !
Lucian watched with narrowed eyes as the contractor walked away, leaving the two to the Ionian market. He held the coinpurse— it was more of a sack, really —given to them as payment for cleansing the woods, and it was left up to them to divide the money between themselves. Of course, Lucian had no issue splitting the funds fairly, but before he even opened the bag to examine the money inside, he whirled to face Anilith with a quizzical expression.
Zuse, he thought she'd called it— whatever that thing had been —was gone now, but his questions, perhaps bordering on accusations, were not.
' Anilith, the hell was all'a that? ' he asked. Of course, she'd made some effort to explain during the actual battle, but now that they could safely discuss the shadowy man which had quite literally sprung forth from her back, he wanted some information that was more concrete. ' Look, kid, I know I don't know you, but I sure as hell know when I been dealin' with a kid in over their head. I've seen a lot of things in my line'a work. Only creatures that look anythin' like that come from either the bad kind'o magic, or the Isles. '
continued from here — @nithhaiahh
The Sentinel visibly relaxed a bit as Nith seemed to regain her senses; a part of him hated that he was succumbing to her emotional display, and there was a voice in the back of his head telling him to shoot her anyway, but his guns ended up holstered on his hips, and he breathed a sigh of relief. She didn't look like the things he killed, even if she technically was one. Neither did Senna, who was also … half-dead. After speaking of his wife, and how the two were similar, he couldn't kill Nith; to do so would be, in spirit, shooting Senna.
Lucian nodded at her question, but his expression remained solemn. ' Yea, she is. Sort of. She— ' His words were cut short when Nith spoke of her own lover. He dipped his head, a show of respect for her loss, before looking back up and putting a hand on her shoulder. ' Look. I get it, y'know, it hurts to talk about. Y'don't have to. Senna… she didn't make that choice, but she died t'save me, back then. I'd still rather we was swapped around for that. I know it ain't the same, but I get the whole unnecessary death…thing. ' He grimaced slightly. ' Now, I don't know if you's a believer in the afterlife'r whatnot, but at least you know he's safe from Mageseekers'n all that Demacian hell. I know I never knew 'im, but I'm sure he wasn't just tryin' to leave it all to you. '
His expression fell, even despite his efforts to keep it blank, as she continued on. To be happy and live in peace; he held the same ideals, truthfully. He yearned for the same security day-to-day, to wake up with Senna at his side without ghosts at the windows and a fight to push through the day. To have a family, and a wife who's steps didn't leave a trail of faint, dark whisps, the Mist lingering even where she walked, reminding him of his mistake so many years ago.
' Well, Nith, it's like I said; y'got the choice to be a monster or not. Not everyone's got that luxury, you know, ' he said. He smiled slightly. ' … Peace'n happiness. Believe me, they ain't so easily won. But I told you I'd help you, Nith, if you wanted t'get away from all'a this and put the past behind you. I got a boat, I got two guns, and I can get y'anywhere in Runeterra you'd like'ta try'n put your life back together at. '
As he looked upon her, her eyes still stained by the tears she'd been fighting, but her features steadily returning to ones that were more human, he truly did see some of Senna in her, both in her grappling with what she was and the literal transformation the Mist had wrought upon her. That was enough to convince him she could be saved, that she wasn't performing some elaborate act to save her skin from his purifying light. And he was convinced Senna could be saved, too. Truly, the longer they spoke, and the more her words tugged at his own memories, the more he felt himself growing invested in this girl's redemption. Her words of suffering pained him, and struck a chord with the trials of his own life; he could relate to her.
He had always been emotional in his more youthful years. A bleeding heart, though he was sure no one would view him as such now. Nevertheless, Nith brought some of his older self bubbling to the surface. He stepped forward, suddenly, and hugged her; it was a bit stiff and awkward, and something he seldom would do nowadays, but the gesture was almost a fatherly attempt to calm her down as she stood shaking and afraid. ' Relax, alright? It'll be okay fer ya. '
“No matter how desensitized I am, nothing can stop my fear of losing you.”
