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thedistantstorm · 5 years

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Phoenix Protocol 16

When the Traveler’s Light was returned to the Guardians after the defeat of the Cabal, it did not manifest itself the same in everyone. Miyu, an Awoken Warlock, finds herself struggling with her abilities, her Light feeling different and not her own. With her Vanguard preoccupied with grief and all eyes turned to the Reef, she finds herself turning to an unlikely source in an attempt to rediscover her connection to the Light and define what it means for her as a Sunsinger.

Previously

Miyu looks at Tamashii, her glowing eyes flat and subdued. She takes a deep breath and exhales in a sigh that wracks her mild frame.

“You take up projects like this when you're sad,” He tells her. “Not that there's anything wrong with that, but... whatever you're doing to this robe… It looks like you're going to plug yourself into an outlet.”

She steps back and regards it with a critical eye. “It kind of does, I suppose. I've been thinking about this for a while, and its purpose is similar enough.”

“It's flame retardant, I hope?” He asks, cheekily.

A pale hand pushes him to the side, though it's not hard enough to do more than waft him gently sideways.

“You know,” He says, flitting about it once more, “It's mostly grey.”

Her eyes narrow, and her disdain is visible. “Good materials almost always come in blasé colors.”

Ghost sighs, pushing his cones out as they orbit around him, floating casually to the edge of the room - toward the entryway - and back. “Yu-mi, relax.”

She lays some intricate cording around the collar and sighs. “I can't.”

“It’s going to be okay,” He reminds her. His cones flutter carefully as he returns to her side and perches himself in the crook of her neck. “I'm with you, always. It's going to be okay.”

“I'm tired of crying,” She says thickly, patting the top of him. He doesn't need to look to know she's in tears. “Tamashii, I'm so very tired of all of it.”

“You should talk to Zavala.”

“But Ikora-”

Ghost scoffs. “Fuck Ikora.” At his Guardian's shocked reaction, he moves to hover in front of her face. “That woman is as haughty as her predecessor these days.” He drifts up and fades down, exasperated. “My student,” He growls. “She's a joke. You know that the way she's been conducting herself since Cayde died is completely inappropriate.”

“She's still my Vanguard.”

“Even so: Zavala doesn't care. He told you, point blank.”

“Still. We don't hurt the people we love,” She says, softer. She plucks her partner out of the air and cradles him close. “It's not right.”

Tamashii sighs again. “Well, what do you call this, then?”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Four days, Miyu. You've been cooped up for four days. This project is an excuse. A good one, yes, but... it's still an excuse not to talk to someone who is very worried about you.”

“But, he hasn't-”

“Messaged you? Adelaide started pinging me hours after you went silent. He's worried. They thought you went off planet, or that you were upset with him.”

“I'm not!” She looks at him in surprise. “I-I didn't mean-”

Tamashii nudges her cheek. “You need to tell him what's going on. He isn't a mind reader.”

“I just - I didn't think it mattered that much to him. I'm not… not-”

“It upsets me that you think so little of yourself,” Her partner says. “You’re so much more than you give yourself credit for.” Tamashi sways around her. “You shine brighter than the Sun.”

“I used to!” She exclaims. “Now, all I do is melt my own fingers off!” Her eyes spark in fury. “Everyone talks about what I was capable of and how they know how I was and I’m NEVER, EVER JUST ENOUGH! Just me, Tamashii. Not ‘the Hiveslayer of Burning Lake,’ not ‘the Sunsinger,’ not ‘the Dawnblade,’ just Miyu.” Her breaths come in great heaves, her eyes wild. “I just want to be good enough. Just me. Not the idea of what I could be, not the person I was.” She looks down at her hands, clenches her fists. “Just me. As I am, right now.”

A polite, staccato rap draws her attention to the door. She looks at Tamashii, eyes narrowing.

He shrinks back, as if he's going to the door before thinking twice on the matter. “I don't mean to meddle,” He tells her, soft enough for the man on the other side of the door not to hear. “I just - you've always been good enough for me, Miyu. And the Commander has never asked for more than you were able to give. I think he's good for you.”

Miyu nods, taking a deep breath to compose herself. “Is Addy pinging you?”

“I, uh,” If a Ghost could flush, she thinks he would. “They, uh, heard your… outburst.”

She closes her eyes and sighs. “Okay.” It does nothing to abate the flush from her cheeks or her bloodshot eyes, but she swipes beneath her eyes in an attempt to herself presentable as she moves to the door.

Not that she'd ever know, she's too busy looking at her own feet when she finally opens the barricade between them, but he too is averting his gaze. His shoulders are rounded, sullen, sad even, and he sighs when she beckons him inside.

“Would you rather I go?” He asks, sounding subdued and worn out. She wonders belatedly how late it is. “If you would like time to-”

A chance gaze up into his eyes makes her heart hurt. Tamashii is right. She's hurting him, behaving this way. “No, no. Please come in, Zavala.”

Her abode is minimalist with the exception of what might have been a dining area that she uses as a work space, so they end up facing each other on opposite sides of the couch. Zavala eyes her warily, as if any motion might frighten her into running away.

“I wanted t-”

“I owe you an-”

They both sigh, their words tripping over the other's. The Commander motions to her. “Go ahead, Miyu.”

“I’m sorry if I've upset you,” She murmurs, making sure to hold his gaze. “I wasn't ignoring you because I'm angry at you, or upset. You're wonderful,” She admits, and his eyes soften at her compliment, until she continues. “More than I deserve.”

Zavala shakes his head, gesturing between them. “What about this don't you deserve?”

She shrugs, as if that should explain everything. He levels her with a stare until she mumbles, “I really don't know.”

“Out there,” He says, gesturing to her door and the world outside it, “I cannot show favoritism or emotion. My feelings,” He concedes, “Do not matter when it comes to defending the greater good. Not my grief, nor anger, or even love.” She looks up at him, and the spark of hope in her eyes is almost too radiant to look at. “Miyu, out there, this - I cannot place you before the rest of them, no matter how I find myself wanting to. Our relationship is… important to me, but my duty must always come first. That is the path I must follow.”

Miyu looks down at her lap, at deft, large fingers that curl over her hands.

“You are special to me, Miyu. It is you who deserves more than I can give you.”

She shakes her head. “Everyone assumes they know what I need, or who I am. You are the only one - outside of my Ghost - who tries to understand. Who doesn't expect me to be someone I used to be.”

“I will admit,” He rumbles, “I am quite smitten with you as you are.” His free hand tucks a loose lock of hair behind her ear. “What I care about, is how you feel.”

Her eyes flutter close as he smooths her hair back, his palm coming to rest on her cheek afterward. When she looks back at him, he's gazing at her in admiration and compassion. And, something… even deeper than that. She leans into his touch.

“Zavala, I-” She takes a deep breath and lets it go, collects herself. “I have feelings for you.” The left side of her lips curl up in a tiny, secret smile, and he leans forward in earnest, matching her small grin. She continues, heartfelt, “But I don't want to make things worse for you and Ikora. You've both been through a lot lately and I-”

“That isn't for you to worry about.” His tone is firm, though his fingers swipe across her cheek in a maddeningly gentle caress.

She tips her head out of his grasp. “That isn't how it works,” She says, quicksilver eyes flitting up to him, bright in the dim light of the room. “You don't get to worry about me if I don't get to worry about you.”

He looks amused at that. “Oh?” It's clear he isn't used to being chastised like this.

“I'm being serious,” She pouts, lip curling in a way that's cute, but that cuteness stops at hard eyes. “I’ve told you before: I worry about you, too. Even if I have my fair share of problems.”

The hand over hers laces their fingers, squeezing. “We all have problems,” He intones sagely. He mulls things over for a moment, before telling her, “I would not be averse to sharing some of mine, but this goes both ways.” His eyes are cool, collected. It’s as if he's brokering a deal. She suspects that’s exactly what he’s doing. “I expect you to tell me what's bothering you, to have kept you locked away for as long as you have been.”

She sighs. “I kind of did.”

“You kind of-” He repeats sharply, squeezing his eyes shut as he replays the conversation over in his mind. Cerulean eyes snap open when he figures it out. “What did Ikora say to you?”

“She was horrible,” Tamashii says, zipping over in-between them from the other room, unable to help himself.

“Easy,” His Guardian chides, her gaze stern. “Let me talk to him,” She presses. The Ghost’s shell droops a little, but Miyu nudges him gently and he settles on her shoulder. “She’s not happy,” The Warlock says once her little Light is situated. “She gave me the impression that what we’re doing - that is, you helping me figure out what’s wrong with my Light - is untoward. Selfish, on my part, both in neglecting her guidance and keeping you from your duties.”

“What about the part where she doesn’t want you to see him anymore,” Adelaide calls, joining them in the small living room area. She boops Miyu’s cheek before hovering above her Titan’s shoulder.

“I don’t think she meant it like that,” Miyu says to the white-shelled Ghost. “She didn’t mean this,” She gestures between herself and Zavala before tipping her head to the side and asking, “You don’t think she meant it like that, do you?”

“She’d have no reason to,” Zavala tells them. Gruffly, he says, “She and I are at odds. It looks as though I am turning you against her, which I’ve told you. That bothers her. That is what Shaxx told me. As for the rest, with Cayde gone-” He does not lock up much at the mention of his fallen comrade, but his voice does get softer, “Everything has become politics. The Consensus is looking for points of weakness, the Factions are looking to pit us against each other. Anything one takes from the other becomes a point of contention.”

“What has Ikora told you?” Miyu asks.

Zavala shakes his head. “About you? Nothing. It’s as she says: We rarely speak outside of Consensus meetings.”

“It isn’t as she says. She believes you to be drowning in your grief.”

“It feels like it, much of the time,” He admits.

Miyu tugs him over with surprising strength, and Adelaide takes that momentary shift to read the room and transmat away his bulky armor. She can feel the indignant sound he wants to make in his chest, but wraps her arms around him tighter, until he shifts and relaxes, half-curled on the moderately-sized couch, his head in her lap, face pressed against her thigh.

“I want you to be happy,” She whispers, fingers stroking the smooth skin of his head from crown to temple and back.

A wide palm comes to cover her knee. “I am finding it is far easier to be when I am with you.”

She gazes down at him and smiles, small and sweet. “Me too.”

#commander zavala #oc: miyu #destiny fanfiction #zavala x female guardian #zavala x oc #collection: phoenix protocol

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lou-bonfightme · 6 years

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CHARACTER PROFILE: TOULOUSE HENRI BONFAMILLE

“Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.”

Myers-Briggs: ENTJ “The Commander”

The ENTJ is a blunt, aggressive go-getter. They are excellent leaders because they are rational and analytical, but their fault lies in their bluntness, which can often be felt broadly due to their extroverted nature. ENTJs are “true powerhouses, and they cultivate an image of being larger than life”, they are excellent at analyzing the strengths and weaknesses of those around them and putting them to good use.

At their best, ENTJs are strong-willed, self-confident, efficient, strategic, and charismatic. Lou is all of these things. He has a natural back-and-forth with people. When his guards are dropped, he is affectionate and has a wicked sense of humor. At his best, his self-confidence is not faked (often, ENTJs have a fake-it-until-you-make-it attitude). He is charismatic, though he tends to use this to manipulate people to his will. But, at his best, he uses this to entertain and make people laugh--or feel safer. His personality dominates and sparkles and he can be great fun to be around, even if he still errs on the side of judgmental and obstinate.

At their worst, ENTJs are domineering, impatient, arrogant, and out of touch with their emotions. Because they value calm rationality, it is hard for them to be in touch with their emotions. Lou struggles with this a lot. He has a truly big heart, that is often times trying to override his head (that -dor versus slyth- that is described below.) This tends to make him irritable, because he doesn’t understand why he feels the way that he does and he doesn’t have the proper tools to express these emotions. So, while he pushes people away, he tends to come off as rude at best and self-destructive at worst.

Sorting Hat: Slytherin Primary with a Gryffindor Secondary (with a Ravenclaw Model)

Lou a prime example of a Slytherin primary (though, perhaps an unhealthy one). He appreciates and cares for his inner circle with a level of intimacy and genuineness that is sometimes confusing to those who see it from the outside. The difference between how Lou interacts with the rest of the world versus those he loves is stark. He will throw his life on the line, rise to any sort of hardship--if it is to the benefit of his inner circle, which is clearly defined--his family, Hades, Daisy, Sophie, and Annette are the only people who exist within it, and even then, Annette has only recently been added. Those who exist on the outer rim of this circle, in the very sparse second sphere are people like Pegasus, Lottie, Violet, Tink, Nala, etc. -- these have not pissed him off, but also haven’t been graduated into the inner circle. He is ruthless when it comes to burning people out of his inner circle (Anita), but on the flipside, once you are in it, it is hard for him to do this to you, unless you hurt him unthinkably (a good example of remaining in the inner circle despite adversity is Daisy.)

While Slytherins are known for practicing self-care and projecting self-confidence--Lou has only one of these. He is not good at taking care of himself at the moment, which leads to him seeming cold, callous, and arrogant. But this isn’t Lou at his true potential--which he is whenever he has to take care of someone else, then, he understand the importance of self-worth and is steady as stone.

Now, Lou’s Gryffindor secondary directly reacts to his Slytherin, like an acid. As soon as they touch they burst apart and lead to a confusing explosion. His Gryffindor means he acts before he thinks, which is inherently different from all his other temperaments. Lou wants to be calm, cool, and calculating, but he just--isn’t, and it frustrates the hell out of him (which irritates that -dor and then the cycle starts all over.) This is often why you see him lashing out and immediately regretting doing so, but then unable to properly apologize or explain why it happened.

Though, on the positive side, Lou’s -dor means he is the person to turn to in an unsafe or confusing situation. He can be the calm, steady statue during a storm. When confronted with adversity, he is brave and true, and others look to him for his leadership.

To combat his -dor tendencies, Lou has built a heavy Ravenclaw model, which directly interacts and interferes with his -dor. Lou gathers information in order to attempt to act accordingly, but when the pressure is on, he falls back on his -dor and charges full steam ahead, every time.

Enneagram 3: The Achiever

Named the achiever because they are most likely to achieve great things, Lou is certainly this personality-type--albeit in an unhealthy way.

If he were a healthy 3, I have no doubt that Lou would succeed at whatever he put his mind to. When he is inspired, he has a drive and passion that is unmatched. This can be seen when he latches himself onto a project that he finds fulfilling. It was more prominent in his childhood. He realized quickly that he enjoyed the praise of his mother and father and always strove to impress them and their company. He wanted to be impressive. Adelaide and Hector raised him to be impressive.

Though, this has manifested in a crippling fear of failure, that does not allow Lou to take risks or explore the things that might make him truly happy. He knows what his mother wants, what his father wants, and he continues to perform, almost robotically, these acts which they project onto him. He strives for approval to the point where he has lost sight of the reason why.

Basic Fear: being worthless Basic Desire: to feel valuable/worthwhile

Alignment: True Neutral

Toulouse’s loyalties lie solely with those he cares about. The rest of the world can burn, for all he cares. He has an acute sense of apathy towards most people, unless they play his heartstrings properly. He would, yes, prefer good people over evil, because he does not want to rock the boat of his life, but he is not adverse to those who are morally grey, or even evil, as long as he and his family are left alone.

True neutrals act generously towards those who they care about or deem worthy, act viciously towards those they deem have caused them or those close to them harm, and act indifferent towards everyone else. Which sums Toulouse up to a “T”. He could care less about you, unless you directly impact his life in one way or another.

Four Temperaments: Melancholic

The defining feature of a melancholic attitude is perfectionism. They are idealists who wish for things to be a certain way, and they get distressed when they are not. They hold themselves and others to unrealistically high standards, and get distressed when these standards are not met. This leads to them being self-deprecating - because they do not meet their own standards - and critical of others - because those others do not meet their standards.

Their generally dour demeanour comes from their inner struggle between an imperfect world and a desire for perfection. Many melancholics wish to learn and to understand, to know the details of every little thing, because to be ignorant is to stray from perfection. They are not content to just accept things the way that they are. They are inquisitive and ask specific questions in order to come to a clearer understanding.

They are very stubborn, because they try very hard to stick to their own carefully considered views and standards of perfection, and are not easily shifted from this path. They do not go with the flow. They are tenacious and cannot let things go, because 'good enough' is not good enough. They strive for perfection. They are very pessimistic, and assume the worst due to these unrealistic standards.

It's easier for them to reject and hate things than it is for them to love and embrace them. Their interests and tastes are picked carefully, and they give a lot of attention to each one, and hold them close to their hearts, rather than having many fleeting interests that change quickly and often.

They tend to argue, because they cannot simply let things be if they seem wrong. They argue using reason, evidence, logic, and explanations, delivered analytically or with pleading. They only argue to set wrongs right, rather than to assert dominance. The argument is about the issue, not about them.

Astrology:

Zodiac: Taurus (May 10th): practicality, artistic, loyalty, self-indulgence, stubbornness, possessiveness.

The ruler of Taurus is Venus, the planet of love, attraction, beauty, satisfaction, creativity and gratitude. This tender nature will make Taurus an excellent cook, gardener, lover, and artist. They are loyal and don't like sudden changes, criticism or the chase of guilt people are often prone to, being somewhat dependable on other people and emotions they seem to be unable to let go of. Still, no matter their potential emotional challenge, these individuals have the ability to bring a practical voice of reason in any chaotic and unhealthy situation.

Being the one who betrayed their best friend, goddess Hera herself, this is an unfortunate being that has to wander the Earth in order to find freedom. As if something was always poking them behind their back, reminding them of happiness that once was, stinging and pushing forwards, they close up in their own worlds, lonely and separated from their core. To find love, a Taurus has to travel the world, change perspective or make a shift in their entire belief system and their system of values.

Chinese Zodiac: Pig: educated, sincere, brave, over-reliant, self-indulgent, easy to anger, materialistic. Celtic Tree: Willow (April 15 – May 12): The Observer

#about #headcanons #character profile #remember these #im resurrecting it #i really just wanted 2 talk about lou #there was no other reason for htis #inspiration

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thedistantstorm · 5 years

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Phoenix Protocol 18

Previously

Fury is etched into every trail of light beneath his skin, in his irises, the very posture he maintains. His shoulders are tight and tense, and if he were a younger, more reckless man, he is certain some volume of arc energy would have skittered across his skin like wayward lightning. Instead, he remains confined to his chair, watching Shaxx backpedal to explain himself while he attempts to maintain some modicum of control over his anger.

“Ikora had asked me,” The larger Titan is saying, “To give her time to test Miyu’s skills. To see where she stood with her Light.”

“Ikora knows nothing of what is happening with her Light.”

“She knows-”

“She has not seen,” Zavala barely restrains himself from bellowing. “There is a point after which Miyu’s Ghost cannot heal her.”

“Resurrection-”

“It does not work like that.” The Commander laces his fingers and squeezes the combined fist his hands make. “It helps, but not completely. The situation is unique. Delicate, if you will.” His eyes level with Shaxx, hard and unyielding. “How long did she say she would need?”

“I have Arcite running matches in other arenas. She did not say.”

Zavala growls. “When you receive confirmation that they are finished, I would like to know about it.”

“You have my word. If Ikora says-”

“I do not want to hear what Ikora has to say, unless it comes from Ikora herself. That is the only way things will improve.”

Shaxx dips his head in a nod, still trapped in the Commander’s ferocious gaze. It’s been some time since he’s seen his friend’s wrath on full display. “As you wish.”

Ikora circles her, like a lioness would her prey. It’s fitting, as Miyu’s heartbeat is akin to that of an antelope, a thready, unbalanced flutter in both surprise and panic. The Awoken woman holds out both hands in a non-threatening manner, knees bent to lower her center of gravity. She balances precariously on the precipice of fight or flight.

“Well?” The Warlock Vanguard asks, tapping the barrel of her trusted shotgun into the cupped palm of her other hand. “I’ve offered you the first shot. Let’s see it.”

“You took my gun,” Miyu chimes, quietly.

“I did not take your sword, though. Make your move.”

Miyu knows that Ikora is angry, that likely this morning’s events have reached her ears to cause current events. There is very little that Ikora is not privy to. That much has always been true. She sighs. “Ikora, I do not-”

“I do not care if you do not wish to fight me. You will.”

“Please, Ikora, let me explain.”

The other Warlock’s nostrils flare. “There is nothing to explain, Grey.”

Miyu shakes her head, knowing Ikora wants her to rise to the bait. “You and I both know that’s not true.” She lowers her stance further, despite herself. The fine hairs at the base of her neck stand in anticipation. Ikora almost always gets her way, and it is unlikely this time will be any different. “You truly wish to fight me?”

“I wish to see just how fruitful your efforts have been, to encourage you to continuously defy my orders.”

“If,” She looks up through dark lashes at her Vanguard leader, her quiet voice low and reedy, heavy with humidity and the threat of something building, “If you had tried to listen to me when I asked, it wouldn't be like this.”

Ikora tuts. “I told you to speak up. If you do not make yourself a priority, how am I supposed to?”

“Ikora. Things, they aren't - I didn't want to defy you. But at least…”

“At least?” Ikora echoes, sing-song and mocking in her delivery.

“At least Zavala cares!” Miyu roars. “You couldn't care less if you tried.”

That elicits a frown from the other woman. “That's not true.”

Miyu juts her chin up. “You're intrigued by me because I'm a puzzle to solve, a problem to unravel. There's no autonomy in your reactions at all, except to keep me away from Zavala because you're upset with him. And that's only for you! You care about what Osiris says, about 'fixing me,’” She quotes with shaking fingers. Her eyes blaze with solar fire, chest heaving as she all but screams, “But I'm NOT broken!”

And yet, despite herself, when the fire takes shape in the palm of her hand, it burns her.

Ikora calls the slippery cool of the void to deflect the attack away as though it is childsplay, an affront to the skillset any Warlock should have.

“That is all you have? Pathetic.”

Miyu snarls at that and calls more flame to her palm. Tamashii appears beside her. “Wait,” He cries. “Yu-mi, wait!”

“She wants to see,” She bites back at her Ghost, her wrath visible in her cold gaze. “I'll show her if I must.”

“It's too risky,” He tells her. “We don't know how much I'll-”

“Quiet, Ghost,” Ikora barks. “This is a matter between your Guardian and me.”

His white and gold shell prickles and pushes out with his outburst of, “I will not! You have no right to treat her this way.”

“Tama,” Miyu calls. He turns to face her. She sees his worry, carved into every shifting twitch of his shell. Her voice is firm. “Daijoubu. Let us go. Everything will be fine.”

“Miyu,” He replies, eyeing Ikora warily before hovering closer. His voice drops. “Anata no koto ga shinpai desu.”

She tips her lips into a gentle smile. She knows his concern. Appreciates it. He is her guiding Light, and through all her lives she’s always known that to be the truth. “Hikari no Tama, it will be alright.”

The last time he'd called her that, it was when she begged him to phase into her, to release his physical form so that he would not be a target in the hours after the Cabal attack. He shudders. Her choice of words frighten him. He does not like the helpless feeling that accompanies watching his Guardian teeter on the edge.

“I trust you,” He says, despite it. “I won't interfere.” She nods. He dips his cones in a resolute nod. “For now.”

Miyu smiles harder at that. “I'm counting on you,” She murmurs. And then she calls on the flame.

He flies faster than he ever has in his life. He knows the transmat location by heart; He moves before he’s materialized in the familiar spawn. He ducks just below awnings and ceilings in the covered areas, phases through door frames and arches at a speed that he’s sure less experienced Ghosts - or those with a need for speed would adore.

But he does not adore this.

This skill, this speed, was gained from dazzling, daring maneuvers on repeat for centuries. From learning terrifying enemies. From fight or die, from promising ‘I won’t leave you,’ from learning how to fight in the ways only a non-combatant knows how.

If he had a body, he wonders if he’d be out of breath. He figures he probably would. But, he does not, so it’s only panic that shakes his voice when he finally reaches his destination.

“Zavala!” He cries, in a yell that makes the other person in the Commander’s office turn. “Help her! I-I can’t-”

It’s Shaxx, Miyu’s Ghost realizes belatedly. “Gho-”

“Tamashii, tell me where to go.” Adelaide appears in a flash of Light beside Zavala, the back plates of her shell spinning in preparation for transmat.

Shaxx looks between the gold trimmed Ghost and the Commander. He stands. “I’m going too.”

“No,” Zavala and his Ghost say in perfect sync. The Commander’s frown is deep, his eyes blown wide with worry he cannot contain. “This is not a public matter,” He says, tone brokering no argument.

“I-” Tamashii spins anxiously, looking between the two Titans and their Ghosts. “We need all the Light we can get. Ophiuchus and I could not bring her back together.”

Shaxx winces when Zavala’s fist leaves the top of his desk in dust and splinters.

#zavala x oc #commander zavala #oc: miyu #miyu the sweet bean warlock #destiny fanfiction #collection: phoenix protocol #angst

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