#d2 story

[alfheimr]

you feel real to me.

[thorough-witness-enjoyer]

I love it when Destiny takes time to show the smaller moments of the universe.

Eido nerding out over preserving culture, people celebrating the Festival of the Lost, baking cookies when the temperature drops, Zavala knitting, Osiris and Saint being tender, random guardians and their friends that we might never get another lore entry on, guardians who we get a handful of lore entries for their shenanigans, conversations about beliefs between characters we know and love, and so, so much more.

In the face of tremendous loss and pain, there are always moments of unconquerable joy and love, even if they are brief. Love can be found in every tale, every crevice, and every event in Destiny despite despairing circumstances and it wins. Maybe not immediately, maybe long after the lovers have perished to their situations, but it always triumphs. It’s seeds always burst through an inhospitable soil to grow into the shade others will lay under, resting their heads upon a person they would propagate a whole forest for.

It is the small moments like finding unlikely companions, enjoying a deeply brewed tea, or collecting candy on holidays that keeps people fighting for the ability to experience such delights.

Destiny is about a universe of people who will choose to survive and endure no matter the cost. It is the assuring sight of different species of children playing in the streets of the Last City that people will suffer time and time again to protect. It is the thought that there will always be a precious experience in life awaiting in the future that makes people want to even keep the very POSSIBILITY of suffering.

Eris has saved the universe to bring justice to her fireteam, protect humanity, and save the ones she loves like Ikora, Mara, and Drifter. That is enough.

Misraaks has helped us in our endeavors to protect Sol for his people and Eido, to see them prosper and grow. That is enough.

Some guardians may fight just to bring in enough glimmer to enjoy a drink at a tavern. That is enough.

Some people right after the Collapse may have continued on because they didn’t know what else to do, they didn’t know why they had it in their spirit to continue on upon a charred Earth. That is enough.

These are all enough to warrant the continuation of a universe that allows for these possibilities. These are enough and more to fight for with bleeding callouses and busted knuckles.

It is moments so fleeting and small that leave such an impression on us that we will fight against odds so enduring and large. We fight for justice, for hope, for good food, for the smell of blossoms in Spring.

We will do it over and over again for it is our right to determine our fates, no matter the indifference we receive from the universe itself and no matter the wants of those who equate the small to be inconsequential.

[hyakunana]

Until the End and Beyond

[ahamkara-apologist]

I was playing around with some cheap alcohol markers I bought for fun yesterday, so woe, dragon Osiris be upon ye

[adh-d2]

So at this point, if we get him back, we're not getting him back whole, are we?

There's no way the same writers who've spent an entire season lingering on Crosshair's PTSD would just give Tech a factory reset with a bump on the noggin'. And there's no longer time to give him a healing journey. The best we can hope for is open-ended optimism. The possibility that he might be himself again someday, in a future we'll never see.

It's starting to feel like a Faustian fucking bargain at this point.

[little-de-vil]

As recompense for me taking forever to respond to @tumblingghosts, I offer you My Ficlet. This is my first time posting about my Silly OC Thoughts, I'm terrified so please be nice!

This takes place during the 73rd Hunger Games, the main characters in this fic are Cassia (Slip Name) "Harlow" (Home Name) Sophro, an 18 year old tribute reaped from District 2 and middle child to Vance (SN) "Hawk"(HN) Sophro, the Victor of the 44th Hunger Games and a historic one as the first of the Cutters, and Dardanius "Dani" Bollard, another 18 year old tribute from 2, but a Volunteer. He's originally from the south, but his family moved up north after a tragedy. He's what's called a Cutter by Blood, someone who still holds onto the Cutter traditions but works (or in this case, his father) as a Keeper. He's trained as a Career, whereas Cassia has been trained by various Victors, those from 2 and not. @thegreatmelodrama let me know if I did your baby Dani justice! She's also a Snow but that's a topic for another day!

Sand continues to trickle into the cave as the storm destroys the supplies at the nearby Cornucopia. What a rarity, for the whole lot of Career tributes to be cornered and beginning to starve. Starving softly, unlike the chronic harshness other district children are so used to. Like the pair from 3, who are tangled together in wires and sparks bleeding out from a corner most camera.

“Why can’t we just destroy each other?” Dardanius asks Harlow softly. 

The question throws her off and she’s been so focused on perfecting the nose of the stone version of her district partner that it takes a moment for his question to register. She is, however, certain that he’s broken his nose more than once.

Who is the “we”? The pair from 1? The lone boy tribute from 4? Certainly not the ones from 3, who no one can really tell why they’re still alive, let alone with the Pack.

Or does he mean himself and Harlow? Are they the “we”?

He must mean them. Because if the years of watching District 2 pairs reach victory has taught her anything, it’s that those from 2 are loyal to their community. Of masonry or military. And that it’s the worst part of watching The Games in District 2, how much the animosity grows amongst the crowd at even the slightest difference in trade or birthplace is put to question the chance of triumph as one tribute falls. 

But is the answer so simple? A mere difference in industry? In home? The Cutters: hewer and layer masons, quarry-folk, stone and crystal miners, blacksmiths. The Keepers: soldiers—the common grunt and almost unheard of 2 born general—, cadets in schools, Peacekeepers stationed throughout the country never to return for 20 years, the hundreds working in The Peak. The southern desert folk and their blunt nature, intrenched in tradition that mirrors what it was before. The northern mountain people and their river sweet ways, creating new rituals after living so close to their invaded neighbors. 

No, nothing as simple as that. Their mutual destruction is not an echo of past rivalries, but of present vows.

A small piece of granite crumbles under the light tap of her brother’s chisel, and she looks back to see that Dardanius’ stoney eyes match his own. “Because we both made promises that work against each other. You promised my brother that you’d protect me. And I promised my father that I wouldn’t become him. Those two don’t work well together.”

He nods, but his brow tightens in concentration, mind locked deep in thought. His voice is soft and filled with sadness or maybe remorse, unlike its usual deep, assured cadence, “So what will we do if it’s just us?”

She blinks, having not considered this point until this very moment. But something deep inside her quickly finds the answer, “I give you permission to kill me.” She says sternly, mirroring his typical tone.

That comment can’t be playing well with the audience. What sponsor would back a tribute so unwilling to see their own victory? Hasn’t the Capitol been so generous to give these poor tributes the opportunity to better their life? And her especially, who has grown up in the greatest Capitol family of them all her whole life? What joy comes from watching someone fight who will never want the crown?

But this must also be playing horrifically among the Cutters back home. Self-sacrifice isn’t a Keeper trait, but Cutters aren’t known to back down from a fight when it comes to dishonoring their people. By allowing even this possibility to happen, she’s just repeating the cycle of those loyal to the Capitol can claim victory, and those traitors are always bound to fall at their hands. 

But her father must be proud of her for lasting this long, for sticking with her partner, for still Saying her Stones? Was he proud of himself when he was in her position 29 years ago, or did that pride diminish once his partner crumbled in his arms and the trumpets of victory rang? She wonders if he will still be proud of his eldest daughter when she returns cold and lifeless, sprinkled with hard tact bread given to her by a joint sponsor of the Master Mason and Head Peacekeeper of 2, spread generously at the end by her partner. Or will he be filled with disdain and fury for defying his one wish to not become like him, like her cousin of the 66th, like her neighbors of the Village who practically raised her. Only time will tell, she supposes, to whose promise will be kept. Or if District 2 will have two tributes sprinkled with bread.

[sercj]

Alright, I'm finally typing it out. Gather around, all, for the tale of the time my friends and I kidnapped a blueberry and drug them into the Vault of Glass.

Once upon a time, I used to have friends I would play Destiny 2 with regularly. None of them that feature in this story still do, to my knowledge, but at the time we were pretty cracked on the PvE side of things. At the time, we were raiding semi-regularly (when schedules lined up), and as Vault of Glass had just been added to D2 recently, it was our raid of choice that one, fateful evening.

We, like any sane PC player, were using Discord for comms, and so I had hopped into the channel to wait, and headed to the Cosmodrome for my favorite time-killing passtime - blueberry watching. For those of you unfamiliar, blueberries is an affectionate term for new destiny players, named after the color of the low rarity gear they end up decked out in, blue. The Cosmodrome, being the first public area a New Light ends up in, is often a place where you can see adorable new players getting the hang of things.

At this time, the voice channel began to fill up, and one of my compatriots joined my fireteam. We initiated some hug emotes with a blueberry and were just all-in-all chilling when we got word that one member of our team would be unable to join us. Then someone (I forget who) suggested 'hey, what if we took this blueberry along with us?'. It was a patently absurd option - we had no communication with them. Their mishmash of blue armor and crappy weapons would clearly be outclassed by the raid, leaving them unable to damage enemies and likely to die instantly if any of the vex even looked in their direction. But we started to plan a bit - really, we could do every encounter with just 5 people. We'd have to protect the blueberry, but that could be done, theoretically.

I think, in the end, we came to the conclusion that we'd try it, but they weren't likely to stick through it. After all, we weren't (and never did) using the in-game VC, or text chat. The two of us hanging out with them in the Cosmodrome sent a fireteam invite. And the blueberry accepted. So we joined the rest of the team in orbit, and launched Vault of Glass.

I could go into our specific strategies for each encounter, but for the most part it was pretty same-y. We'd use emotes and shooting to get the blueberry into a defensible position, then 5-man the encounter. And somehow, this worked. I have taught many, many people many raids in my time (including many people from this friend group!), and I have never seen someone pick up so quickly on what we needed them to do. With no actual words passing! An absolute, biggest-brained legend of a guardian.

We did get this guy all the way to Aetheon. And with some tricks (and good RNG), we were able to even defeat Aetheon. With some random blueberry nobody knew, or talked to! Unfortunately, they didn't get Mythoclast (can you imagine, though!), but they did celebrate with us with their default dance emote, and we all went our seperate ways. Nobody friended them, we just re-released them into the Cosmodrome like they hadn't just helped us save all of time or whatever the point of Vault of Glass is.

Now, perhaps this was a returning player, or someone on a new alt, who already kinda or entirely knew what was going on. But there's no real way of knowing, and it's just as (if not more) likely that this was a brand new player. Can you imagine what kind of a 'first experience' that new player had with the game? How puzzlingly odd to begin with, developing into concern as the activity we brought them to was clearly beyond them, to the 'fuck it we ball' attitude to stick with it all the way through. A true champion.

And imagine the lore perspective too. Fresh guardian, still got gravesoil in their armor, hasn't been to the tower yet, and they get scooped up into the Vault of Glass? Battle Aetheon? AND WIN!? The reaction from Shaw, or hell, the Vanguard as a whole would be amazing. Our guardians getting reprimanded for taking some fresh new light and dragging them through such a crazy difficult experience they weren't prepared for. Fun stuff to think about.

I wonder how that player is doing now. If they still play, how this particular experience flavored their perception of the game and its community. I know the community at large can be extremely toxic (and worse), but I still strive to embody the community impression we made on that day. Patience and Understanding, being goofy and silly about it, inclusive and kind. Dunno, maybe that's just me being sappy about a fun memory with friends gone by.

[cappurrccino]

the number one thing i want from destiny 2 is to just. be able to replay the entire story from the beginning. everything they made, everything i bought, not just the piecemeal refresher course they had ikora give out. let me ng+ this shit and rewatch cutscenes with my guardians in their new fancy armor

[girlbob-boypants]

I'm very concerned that overeager Warframe players are going to make the gamers abandoning Destiny 2 for this game uh. Get the wrong impression that this game is anything like D2.

[spartanlocke]

bungie:  yes saint-14 and osiris are gay. we just don’t put a lot of emphasis on the romance because destiny isn’t a love story. russia: we censored saint calling osiris "my love.” bungie: 

[alfheimr]

osiris ^__^

[ruthlesslistener]

24 on the choose violence ask game for HK or Destiny, your choice

24. topic that brings up the most rancid discourse

-I'm choosing Destiny 2 because I've already covered this for HK I think. But really anything that involves the story pacing of Lightfall, O14, or Eramis tends to get on my fucking nerves. Lightfall was paced exactly how it needed to be for the vibe that we were dealing with (NO WE ARE NOT GOING TO GET ANSWERS RIGHT AWAY IF WE DID A MAD RUSH TO SAVE A RECENTLY-DISCOVERED CIVILIZATION ALREADY UNDER ATTACK THAT HAS A KEY THAT COULD HELP US THAT WE ONLY JUST LEARNED ABOUT), Saint and Osiris were always gay and referring to each other as 'brothers' doesn't negate that because it is an extremely fucking common address of comradery in every country apart from America, and ERAMIS IS NOT A FUCKING DISCIPLE NOR DID SHE KNOW WHAT SHE WAS GETTING INTO WITH THE WITNESS. SHE'S A PAWN SHE'S A SLAVE SHE HATES WHAT SHE DID. Nobody seems to understand the concept of nuanced morally grey characters but her NOT wanting to side with House Light bc it places the Eliksni in a vulnerable position to the humans is VERY reasonable and we outright see in canon MULTIPLE times that she entered a deal with the devil before she saw the contract. Also the Witness is abusive as fuck so she is not part of a fucking 'darkness found family' she is in deep shit watching her friends and loved ones being raised from the dead specifically to torture her and she wants to die because of it oh my goddddddd

[missrosiesworld]

A Moment of Peace

Soft morning light filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. Her olive complexion and subtle glow hinted at her half-human, half-Awoken heritage as Aria stirred slightly. Eyes of turquoise and emerald fluttered open. A smile spread across her face as she took in the familiar sight of Crow beside her. His blue-grey complexion and bright, golden eyes were softened by a peaceful expression.

As Aria's long, raven black hair spilled over the pillow, its vibrant blue and violet streaks framed her face and contrasted beautifully with the tan of her skin. With loose waves and occasional braids adorned with glowing beads, her hair radiated an ethereal beauty.

Crow lay on his back, one arm draped over his head, the other resting lightly on Aria's waist. His chest rose and fell with deep, even breaths. Aria couldn't help but reach out, her fingers tracing the lines of his jaw and the curve of his lips. He looked so serene, so at peace, that she almost didn't want to wake him.

Despite how much she treasured these quiet moments, the day awaited them. She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead, then his nose, and finally his lips. "Crow, it's time to get up," she whispered, her voice gentle but insistent.

Crow groaned softly as he turned towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her closer to him. "No," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "Stay here. Just a little longer."

Aria chuckled, running her fingers through his dark hair. "We have things to do, remember? We can't stay in bed all day."

Crow opened one eye, peering at her with determination and affection. "Who says?" he countered, his voice more awake but still playful. "We deserve a day off. No Guardians, no missions, just us."

Aria sighed, pretending to be exasperated, but the smile on her face gave her away. "Crow, you know we can't just ignore our duties."

Crow tightened his hold, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. "Just one more hour," he pleaded, his voice taking on a cute, almost childlike quality. "Please?"

Aria's resolve melted at the sound of his plea. She sighed, her fingers still gently tracing patterns on his back. "Fine," she relented, her voice soft. "One more hour. But then we really have to get up."

Crow smiled against her skin, pressing a kiss to her neck. "Thank you," he whispered, his voice filled with contentment. He shifted slightly, pulling her even closer, his body molding against hers.

Aria relaxed into his embrace, enjoying the warmth and comfort of his proximity. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to savor the moment, the feeling of his heart beating steadily against hers.

As they lay there, wrapped in each other's arms, the world outside seemed to fade away. It was just the two of them, in their own little bubble of peace and love. And for that hour, nothing else mattered.

Crow's fingers traced soft patterns on her back, his touch gentle and soothing. "I love you, Aria," he murmured, his voice a low rumble.

Aria smiled, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. "I love you too, Crow," she replied, her voice filled with warmth. "Always."

Crow, known for his soft-spoken and kindly demeanor since his resurrection, felt a surge of gratitude. Despite the hostility and grief he had faced from other Guardians due to his past as Uldren Sov, Aria had always seen him for who he was now. She had helped him navigate the complexities of his identity, and in her presence, he felt understood and loved.

"I'm never letting you go," Crow whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "You're my anchor, Aria."

Aria's heart swelled at his words. She knew how much he struggled with his past and the remnants of his old identity, but she also saw the good in him, the kindness and bravery that defined him now. "And I'm never leaving your side," she murmured, her voice steady and reassuring. "We're in this together, now and forever."

Crow tightened his hold, his heart pounding with the certainty of their bond. "Forever," he echoed, his voice filled with conviction. "I love you, Aria."

"And I love you, Crow," she replied softly, her fingers gently caressing his face.

As they lay there, entwined in each other's arms, the bond between them grew even stronger. Together, they could face any challenge, their love and commitment unbreakable. In that quiet, precious moment, they both knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, they would face them together, their hearts forever entwined.

[the-light-finds-its-way]

Did poor Anthem just have the misfortune of going through DER 99 times or did he keep doing something that would trigger it?

He went through DER 99 times. Basically he became an Exo because he lived more than 100 years in a female body, and couldn't stand the fact that he'd die in it. Clovis offered to make him an Exo and thus Anthem could transition and be fully male while erasing his past identity and life.

But the problem was that Anthem still remembered his deadname: Marie.

Nothing else remained but the name. No less, it reminded him of what he'd escaped even though he couldn't recall the anguish it caused. The name was enough. It was TOO MUCH in a sense. And so he went through a reset. And another. And many many many others, trying over and over again to forget the name Marie. It never left, and it never would.

His memory was shot entirely, and he could not remember anything beyond basic functions to live and communicate. But Marie still existed. 99 resets, and he was unable to escape himself and who he was.

I made this story to sort of vent the fact that no trans person can fully be rid of who they were before transitioning, no matter how hard we try. Our pre-transition selves will haunt us forever. But they are not who we are. We are ourselves as we've become. We are greater. We create our own destiny.

Anthem eventually went on to get a memory chip from Crow, commissioned from Banshee. The old Exo now has to manually delete memories if he wants to forget anything at all. But he doesn't want to, and thus he refuses to. Life is about memories, both good and bad, and he's going to live without erasing anything else. You live and you grow from what was into what is. Anthem's a strong man. And Marie is dead and gone. He lives in her place. He doesn't know her, but she lives on in him by a name. And Anthem will do Marie justice, living as the man Marie always hoped to become.

[satureja13]

Jack is stopping Vlad with his lightsaber before the Bond can do any harm. (Insult Lightsaber Sword Fighting™ is an old Vlad-Jack tradition.) Vlad the Bond: "No one will tear Ji Ho and Vlad apart!"

Rubyn: "I don't think they are taking this serious enough..."

Jack: "Well, my green friend and I have an update: we will tear YOU apart!"

Eventually, after a few more insults, Jack defeated Vlad/the Bond. Jeb: "Had it been you who killed the others in other Jeb and Jack's timeline?" Vlad was devastated. Had he? Gods.

Vlad: "We need to cut the Bond! Why did the other Jeb say we can't? I'm going to stay here with Ji Ho and we go to Francine to cut that damn Bond before it kills us!" Rubyn: "Maybe Vlad is right. With all the information we gathered here, I can easily finish my research on the meteorites without the Bond..." Jack: "I don't think Vlad killed them. He wasn't there either, only Jeb and me. And I don't think the Bond would have killed Ji Ho. Other Jeb and other I had a plan. Trust us, hm? Malfoy and I can keep Vlad the Bond at bay until you figuered out how to use the meteorites to travel and Ji Ho joins us again. Ji Ho and Vlad already teleported with Bond Magic. And opened the portal to the Otherworld. Maybe we still need the Bond to travel. We're almost there!"

And then the goats began to enter the ship. Ji Ho's Little Goat stayed at the pedestal off the ship... Jack: "I think they are telling us where to stand."

Time to say goodbye. Saiwa: "Good luck, Rubyn and thank you. Take good care of Ji Ho." Rubyn: "I will do my best. Francine will know what to do." Jack: "Let's go, Vlad."

They went to the spots the goats showed them. Ji Ho and Vlad placed their meteorites on the pedestals and put the crystals in the openings. Just as other Jeb told them. Jack: "We will meet again soon!"

And then the whole ship vanished!

Rubyn and Ji Ho packed up the pedestal and Little Goat, then they called the UFO to fly to Copperdale...

From the Beginning  ~  Underwater Love ~  Latest 🌴 'The Expedition' from the beginning ▶️ here 📚 Previous Chapters: 🎤 'Putting the Boys Back together' from the beginning ▶️ here 🥀 'Disbandment of the Group' from the beginning ▶️ here

[caydesgal]

After Ghost says “We’re alone” Miyoko stops him for a moment as her heart feels a presence she thought she’d never feel again, her eyes start to water, she doesn’t even need to hear or see him to know who it is that she can feel. “No…I can feel his light, it-it’s strong… I don’t believe this”

Ghost: “Who’s light?”

Miyoko(Tear eyed): “C-Cayde, my true love… I hear that familiar song, he’s playing “My Rose” The one he used to lull me to sleep to every night at our camps, remember?”♠️🥺💙