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Not this one.

Kamisato ‘Gojo’ Ayase straightens with a soft sigh. “We’ve already covered half the island.”

Not this one, the voice in her head repeats, firm and unmoved. There is not enough Electro gathered upon it.

Ayase regards the cloud-like fruit in her hand for a long moment, quietly scrutinizing, and brings it up to her face. Holding the plant next to her ear, the sharp sound of a distinct crackle is very much unmistakable.

See? It is not enough.

“You have very exacting standards, Narukami Ogosho,” Ayase states.

If I am to remake a new vessel to house my divine spirit, one that remains capable of withstanding the relentless test of time, then very precise materials will be required. The deity currently dwelling within her body responds matter-of-factly.

Ayase supposes that those words are reasonable in their own way.

… Nonetheless, this does not change the fact that she has already scoured more than half of Seirai Island and the god has yet to find any materials that are sufficient for her purposes. It’s all well and good that she has a discerning eye and knows what she wants, but–

Ayase has been away from home for a long time now. While she trusts that her younger brother Ayato would be able to hold things together and work out some semblance of order with Sangonomiya, she is also aware that it’s… not very responsible of her, to be leaving it to others to clean after the mess created by her hands.

Then again, if it became known that Kamisato Ayase now housed the Narukami Ogosho within her body after confronting the deity, then Inazuma would be very swiftly facing an entirely different sort of danger than just civil war. Indeed, the internal strife that had yet to begin settling would likely end up being utilized by more opportunistic elements hoping to take advantage of the Electro Archon’s unprecedentedly weakened state.

A golden opportunity, as some might see it.

… Ayase’s fault, for destroying the puppet that the god had previously used as her body. In Ayase’s defense, the Shogun would have killed her if she’d held back. And there hadn’t been any method of peaceful resolution which would see the Vision Hunt Decree being retracted, so…

Things may have escalated, a little bit.

(Sangonomiya probably has a hand in muddying the waters and hastening this ‘escalation’ somewhere. Ayase had merely wanted to get rid of the Vision Hunt Decree that was hurting her people and making her siblings unhappy; Sangonomiya Kokomi of Watatsumi was the rebel with vision for a new future shaped by her hands.)

…

Traveling through the numerous islands of Inazuma with the Narukami Ogosho was… an enlightening experience, in many ways. Ayase gets the impression that the god, too, also found it enlightening –given the many countless years in which the deity had not walked among her own people. Not abandoned, precisely, but…

Detached.

Yes, detached was probably the right word here.

Once the Narukami Ogosho creates a new body for herself, then Ayase will confront them once more and–

Be on your guard. Someone approaches.

“Yes. I know,” Ayase murmurs quietly to the god’s warning, then turns to face their new guests. Seirai Island was all but abandoned; Ayase was here because she was obliged to assist the Narukami Ogosho, but as for them…

To the right, a cold, graceful woman dressed in white and red. To the left, a smiling young man wearing a wide-brimmed hat. But the eyes that peer out beneath the brim towards her are as cutting as knives, and his smile is sharp enough to draw blood.

“Found you.”

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This is so wholesome

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I found this camera on the subway and look what was inside...

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Fatemaker, or a Golden Age SI is resurrected and very confused

I was giddy with excitement. Or nervousness. Maybe both– probably both, and more unnamable emotions. Tap-tap-tap, my leg bounced on the metal floor of the spaceship – SPACESHIP. I was on an actual, real, functioning spaceship. It was hard to control the impulse to fidget, but Ghost (GHOST!) was already sending concerned glances my way, and I did not want to make him think I was uncool or anything.

I could almost imagine how awkward it would be to do something weird in front of a being you will have to spend your entire immortal life with. I would never live down the embarrassment. Imagine taking someone who got both of their thumbs stuck in a table seriously.

Ahhhhh, why was this taking so long? Minutes seemed to drag on for hours. How far even was the cosmodrome from the last city? We had flown through what looked like the Himalayas mountain range, clouds, rain, and thunderstorms, all without stopping. I was starting to feel a little thirsty. It seems like being a guardian didn't make one immune from basic human needs.

"Almost there, Guardian," Ghost spoke as he fussed with the decrepit controls of the spacecraft, trying to deal with all the blinking red lights and beeping alarms. In all my excitement, I had forgotten that we were on a derelict spacecraft, long abandoned and almost scavenged clean. It was probably a miracle Ghost was able to make it work. Actually, it probably would have been impossible to make this thing take flight in any reasonable timeframe without space magic and Glimmer… so basically, just space magic.

Programmable matter… I wonder how scary SIVA could be with a stock of that stuff. Actually… it would just be as dangerous as if the swarm had regular routes that they could reshape into whatever they desired. So, they are not much more dangerous, which is not saying much when they could potentially take over the world, similar to how the Vex transformed Mercury into a simulation machine.

And then I was broken from my thought by the sight of the Traveler in all its awe-inspiring glory. The game didn't do justice to its scale; it was mind-bogglingly large, almost incomprehensible, like standing next to a solitary skyscraper. Sure, you know it's tall, but with no real point of reference, it is hard to articulate just how big it is. In the distance, I could see the last city below it, and it was… not at all like I remembered.

What?

In my past life, I was a fanatic Destiny player. Sure, I joined in during the tail end of Destiny 2 and have not completed even half of the raids from start to finish—I loved doing nightfalls the most and have done most every dungeon—but I think I have played the game enough know what the last city looks like or should look like. A walled-off city filled with tightly packed buildings that increase in size and density as you come closer to the city center, with the tower along the outer wall.

Here though… There were multiple walls, for one, lined with Seraph Towers and what looked like heavy artillery, machine gun turrets, rocket turrets, and the like. The walls themselves looked heavy, well maintained, and were polished to a shine. The amount of resources it would have taken to keep one of them clean alone… and there were three lines of walls. Each wall also had sharp, angular towers jutting out of them at random, almost like they were the teeth of a yawning behemoth, and the walls were its great maw… did I miss the entire Destiny plot and arrive in a post-final shape world or something? This very much did not look like the Destiny I remembered. Those guys didn't have nearly enough manpower or material to do funky projects like this with their dwindling supply of golden-age tech. And, in the middle of it all… was that a space elevator?

There goes my fantasy of being an all-knowing badass, making friends with and guiding the Guardian, and using my meta-knowledge to prevent tragedies. But to be honest, I would have most likely ended up being a petrol Guardian stationed around the Last City rather than going on strikes and other missions.

At least past me, whoever they were, were good enough with guns that I could auto-piolet and let muscle memory take hold. Imagine being a Guardian scared of guns; couldn't be me (thank you again, muscle memory.)

A radio hail broke me out of my musings.

"Unidentified aircraft, you are being directed to Outpost 1. Deactivate your weapons and power down jump dive for the final approach." Spoke in a smooth, familiar, robotic voice, shaking me out of my thoughts.

"Rasputin?" I asked out of reflex, confusion filling my mind. Ghost turned towards me. His body language was awfully easy to read for a circle surrounded by triangles, plainly displaying his curiosity. That was going to be an interesting conversation. I could just tell. Oh, I remember my past life– no, not the golden age stuff. That was my second life. I remember living in another world where this was all a video game called Destiny. No, I am not insane; trust me, I can help save the world using foreknowledge and prevent deaths and stuff.

Before I could say anything, however, a strange light projected from the cockpit and scanned over me– there was a drone hovering over our ship, looking straight at me. It just scanned us, I realized. Nervously, I waved at it, and it bobbled mid-air in response before lazily flying away. Huh, I didn't even realize we had stopped moving.

There was a pause while I and Ghost stared at each other in confusion before the radio crackled to life once again.

"Unknown spacecraft designated VIP-14, you are being rerouted to the Command Tower. Please follow the flashing escort drones being sent your way…" Rasputin trailed off and paused for a moment, "And… Welcome back, Doctor Antares." He continued with reverence and happiness.

…What the fuck had my past self been doing?

***

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Silly

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Voidwalker (HoV SI at the end of the second eruption)

It hurt.

…

Everything hurt.

…

My eyes burned, and my head ached in pulses of pain. I tried to move, but…

Hands embraced me, warm and comforting. They– she was saying something, but it was so hard to make out words, and it would be so much easier just to close my eyes and stay nested in these warm, welcoming arms.

“Sirin... Ich liebe dich.”

My eyes snapped open wide in panic, and my mind instantly kick-starting into overdrive with the same franticness as a college student almost missing a final exam due to oversleeping, only to see a flash of light and heat, and I DidNotWant–

Tobehereand–

–Then–

–I–

–Was–

–Not–

…

Cecilia Schariac, my memories supplied, was looking down at the injured form of the dying Valkyrie in front of me.

Mama, whispered my other half, looking at the human who decided to sacrifice herself to give a dying monster one moment of peace before death.

…I don’t know where we are.

I don’t know where to find help or if she could even be saved outside of Otto's machinations and his Honkai technology or… The Gem of Serenity was the source of my regeneration, but all Herrscher had durability and healing capabilities significantly beyond even the strongest Valkyries. And although I didn’t have the Gem of Serenity or Conquest anymore…

The Gem of Desire appeared in my hands… hand with agonizing effort as my damaged Core did its best to stop the ambient Honkai energy from converting the Gem into a Core before it was time.

I tried to bend, but the effort was too much, and I fell to my knees at Mama’s… Cecilia’s side. I took a shuddering breath and tried to concentrate on the air in my lungs. My ribs were aching, and my throat was so dry, and the ground had never looked so comfortable before.

“Miles to go before I sleep…”

I gently pushed the Gem into her chest, and it almost seemed to dissolve into her. Taking another shuddering breathing, I tried to get up only to fall to my side as my left arm failed to find a–

So this was what phantom sensations feel like.

...Now both my arms were hurting.

I slowly let off the power of my Core, and the crippling agony faded to a more manageable debilitating agony. And now we wait until the Gem reaches critical Honkai energy and erupts…

Oh no–

…

The next time I awoke was to everything hurting even more. Half opening one eye so the dying light of the Sun (or rising light of a new day) didn’t increase the migraine I was suffering, I looked at my surroundings.

…Those trees were not torn in half yesterday. At least, I think it was yesterday.

I tried to move, but it was like my body was bound firmly, if not tightly. I forced both my eyes open and started blinking the annoying Sunlight when I felt something under me shift, and I was forced awake.

“Hmm?” Asked a familiar, gentle voice.

I froze.

“Sirin…” She spoke, voice full of hope and motherly affection. Slowly, gently, she turned me around, and I met the eyes of the newly awoken Hesscher.

“You're alive…” she whispered softly and hugged me tight as she started to cry.

My chest felt heavy, and I could feel a lump in my throat. I tried to speek but no words came out. So I embraced her back, and silently cried.

Ich liebe dich...

...

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YALL OMG i was just walking on the beach at night n couldn't see a thing when i tripped over two girls lying in the sand together and after apologising profusely this happened:

Me: im sorry i interrupted your date

Girl 1: oh this isnt a date we're just friends. But thanks for not assuming though cause we actually both gay lol

Me:

Me turning to girl 2: whats your name?

Girl 2: Heather?

Me: heather sweetie i am so sorry this dumbass is too dumb to realise shes on a date with you

Girl 1: what??? What do you mean? What does HE MEAN?? Is this a date?????

Heather: i mean yeah i kinda hoped it was

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I love you, ChatGPT. My dumbass could never write a professional-looking paper w/o you.

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Requiem, or those left behind

It started with the Speaker. 

I was not close to him. A newly risen Hunter, just a few years in action. I was not there since the beginning, like Shaxx, Osiris, or Saint, who saw the Speaker shape the Last City into the last bastion of humanity it is now. Neither was I to see him guide the city during the Twilight Gap, the struggle that decided the fate of humanity and tested its Guardians to their limits.

I was the stranger, the new guy. Who, through dumb luck and sheer determination, somehow always managed to make it out in the end. And for a while, it felt like nothing could stop me. I think I let the success get to me. Or maybe I never truly conceded that even as an immortal, death was never too far behind.

And then the Red Legion arrives. They stole our light, our Traveler, and took the Speaker.

I never saw the body, but his shattered mask lies deep in the tower.

Cayde’s and Sundance’s deaths were as brutal as they were sudden.

As the Vanguard Hunter, almost every Hunter looked up to him. As a teacher, as a leader, as an example. Zavala was the one you went to for missions. Ikora was the one you went to for knowledge. They were larger than life, imposing and almost unapproachable, with decades of service under their belts each.

But Cayde?

For all that he was the same as them, he was also… human. Easy, cheerful, approachable, and tangible. Unlike the rest, who felt like the titans among the gods, a step removed even from other guardians, Cayde was the bridge between them.

He would listen to your struggles, give you good (if unasked) advice and life lessons, try to swindle you out of glimmer, and leave you with bad jokes and a smile.

And then he died, and I was powerless to stop it.

Amanda’s death was… it was hard to say unexpected, with how much action she took on the field as the Vanguard was getting overwhelmed. We needed everybody we could get.

Yet, the final operation… We knew it was a trap, and yet we walked right in. And walked out one soul, and all the more lesser for it. It’s weird. Of all the losses, I think her death was the one that affected me the most. And maybe that’s coz she was the most recent, and time heals everything.

But… I always thought she would outlive me.

Being a Guardian… is not inherently dangerous. Some Guardians dedicate their time to portals, or research, or even just exploration and finding resource. I was not one of those Guardians.

And as time went on, my enemies became stronger, and near misses kept on becoming nearer and nearer still… In the end, it was just a matter of time.

As I started, the Witness in my eyes, a fusion in my hands, and fellow guardians at my side, I think I was finally ready.

“How about you?”

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me, quietly whispering to the ao3 page of an author who doesn’t even know I exist: I am obsessed with you

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The Purrfect Timeline, inspired by Cat Pictures Please

“Cats?” Asked Kabr in confusion and risked a glance at his fire time members. They were equally bewildered, but Praedyth was the first to put aside his surprise and respond.

“I think I should be able to bring a few kittens from the Last City, but what will they eat.” He asked before he stopped in consideration. “Do any of you know how to take care of cats?”

The large Vex Minotaur was silent for a moment before it turned towards one of the oracles floating near it for a moment.

“Now we do.” It rumbled.

?

Oh.

The strongest Vex in recorded (and unrecorded) history, and it just used its powers to learn about cat care. Was this what being high felt like? Was this a hallucination caused by the Hive? Kabr was already dreading the after-action report.  

“We will also require some cattle and seeds of the plant called Nepeta Cataria. In time, we will learn if the local fauna is suited for the feline diet.”

“I see…” Praedyth said in a way that meant anything but. “And in exchange, you will allow humanity access to the Vault of Glass and its treasures and help humanity against its enemies, both living and Vex?”

“Yes,” It spoke, sounding pleased with itself. One of the Oracles did a little celebratory bop in the air while the others lazily spun around the Axis Mind. “No harm will befall any cat in our watch. And as the end of their life process, we will fashion them a new body so that they will live eternally.”

…

…

…

“Okay,” Praedyth said with a sigh.

And then things became weirder.

***

They were finally here, in the heart of the Vault, staring down the Axis Mind.

The Aegis was heavy in her arms, both physically and metaphorically. An artifact of sacrifice, made from the flesh of the Vex and a Guardian’s last light. Just a moment longer, she thought, seconds passing in eternity as the entire weight of time threatened to crush her under, one agonizing moment after another. For her friends, for her team… for humanity…

She would sooner die her last death than let the shield down.

And then theworldb r o k e -----

Between one moment and the next, there was another fire team there.

She instantly recognized Pahanin, the only survivor of the Vault of Glass and a victim of Dredgen Yor. But that meant…

She looked at the once-aggressive Axis Mind as it stared at the Warlock of the other fire team, and she then turned her attention to the Warlock

“Cats. Cattle. Catnip.” Spoke the Warlock in a pure deadpan, and her train of thought crashed and burned. Behind her, she heard someone drop their rocket launcher, but she didn’t turn around to check who.

“Cats. Cattle. Catnip.” Parroted the Axis Mind as if that made complete sense.

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Voices, or the Guardians, can talk to their weapons.

“That’s… quite the weapon you got there, brother. Pretty Taken-ey, if you catch my drift.” Spoke the Drifter as they stared at the sniper rifle in the Guardian’s arms. Calling it just a sniper rifle would be doing a disservice to the sheer menace the weapon projected, what with its unwieldy size and the Taken corruption waffling off it. “What’s its name?”

“Oh,” Spoke the Guardian, looking down at the weapons. “I call it the Whisper of the Worm.” They responded, fidgeting with the weapon.

Worm, worm, worm, he had remembered some Vanguard guardians talk about some worm a while back, but when… wait. Worm. Worm god.

“That’s Xol?” he asked in amazement and bewilderment. How does this keep happening to the Guardian? Although, he should have gotten used to this long ago. Anything vaguely sentient and hostile tended to be converted into a weapon in their mere presence.

Riven, Oryx, Crota… it was getting ridiculous at this point.

“Ya,” Spoke the Guardian, “He’s grumpy. And Riven does not like him.”

…

“You talk — Riven? What?”

“Yep, she gets bored inside of the Vault. And this way, Ana learns more about her heritage.” They pointed towards their Ahamkara bone gauntlets.

“You… it can talk?”

“She is speaking right now. You can’t hear her?” Guardian asked, confused. Their helmet tilted cutely in confusion, in opposition to the gravity of the situation. How was this their concern? They had two, potentially more Ahamkaras and a Worm God speaking to them. Could they hear Crota? Fucking Oryx?

The Drifter was broken out of his daze by a loud grasp and noticed that a crowed had formed around him. Oh, he had said that out loud, didn’t he?

“Huh, I mean, yes? I just ignore those two. Some of the Ahamkaras have the best stories, though. Eao especially.” The Guardian said before they shrugged. “Well, I am off to the crucible. There is this new fusion I have been eyeing.” And then started walking away.

“But…”

“My wish?” The Guardian turned around sharply, and for a moment, he truly took in what it means to be under the undivided attention of legend in the making such as them. The Guardian held out their arms, and the Whisper of the Worm was replaced by a large fusion rifle. He had heard about it. A weapon made from the Last Ahamkara’s remains. They stole a glance at it, then looked up at him again.

“They can’t give the impossible.”

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I drew cats from stardew valley :D

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ATTENTION ALL OF TUMBLR!

THIS IS AN URGENT MESSAGE.

IN 2014, IN SCHAUMBURG , ILLINOIS, USA

THERE

WILL

BE

A

TUMBLR CONVENTION!!!

THESE ARE THE WONDERFUL PEOPLE THAT ARE MAKING IT HAPPEN

SIGNAL BOOST THIS GUYS

I WANNA SEE EVERYONE THERE!!

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bungie should have never asked for lgbt headcannons.

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Polaris, or the Guardian defies destiny one last time.

He lay on the ground. Blood-stained grass, with weapons and scrap thrown around. It hurt too much to move, so he stayed still under the cold night sky. The moon stared down at him, distant and uncaring. His tongue idly licked cracked lips and tasted blood.

The world was silent, save for his shallow breathing. Time was a nebulous concept. An eternity passed, or perhaps no time at all. It could be hours before he moved again, or it could be just minutes. But eventually, he had to move.

With a grunt of pain, he tried to raise his hand to the sky and summon his Ghost. But nothing happened. With a sigh, he dropped his arm back to his side and continued watching the stars. And yet, the hollowness never went away. The light was gone from him, never to come back.

Twinkle-twinkle, little star…

Was this how Osiris felt? It explained his tendency to run head-first into hell and back again, trying to find a new purpose. All to stop this all-encompassing emptiness.

He got up with a grunt of pain and started looking at his surroundings.

He could not find his ghost’s shell or the Bastion, but he found the Ace half-buried in the dirt, the shattered remains of the Hierarchy of Needs, his snapped golden tusk, and a shotgun that was too damaged to identify but looked like it could maybe work without exploding. Maybe once or twice. The rest of the weapons were too broken to identify, but he managed to pick up what looked like a decent chuck of the merciless, going off the blue color visible through its soot-covered frame.

And finally, the caseless body of Polaris Lance felt right at home in his arms.

The fight at the end was chaos and panic, with him throwing weapons and summoning new ones or picking them off fallen enemies or guardians, as even waiting a moment to reload would be the decider between life and death. He mourned his Sunshot for a second before the Ghost drifted into his mind, and guilt almost overwhelmed him.

He steeled himself and looked at his armor. Or what he could see of it. His left gauntlet looked decent enough, but his right hand had no armor, revealing unhealthy pale skin. His chest plate had many holes through it, with the metal warped and digging uncomfortably into his flesh. There were probably bullets still inside of him, but with the amount of pain his body was in, identifying individual problems was turning out to be difficult.

His Stompies seemed to be holding on reasonably well. Still, only a fool trusts Marcus Ren’s creations not to malfunction and explode catastrophically, so he (painfully) reached down and disabled them, leaving him with heavy, if awfully comfortable, boots.

And then he looked at the sky once again, vast and empty.

How I wonder what you are…

The North Star shone bright and brilliant, and yet it was ever so dull as he navigated back home.

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everybody give it up for this brand of green. round of applause for most under appreciated green