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mechaknight-98 · 3 months

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Discourse is Dead FT Yuju

Author’s motes: made a pivot point and I kinda like it way more.

The air was crisp the sun was shining on a new day and Riku was getting ready for the day when the Iron Banner horn could be heard. Riku sighed he wasn’t fond of Iron Banner but was ready to help Yel due to his over-eager promise. So he puts on his titan armor and goes to the tower to register.

As per his usual routine, he gets in early, hoping to be the rush of other combatants. However, unusually a familiar face is there to greet him.

“Lady Efrideet?” Riku says confused. Lady Efrideet smiles at the young awoken and then notices his armor. She approached him

“What’s this Tanuki?”

“Um, my armor?”

“No where are your robes? You are a warlock?”

“Would you believe me when I say the last few weeks have been kinda crazy?”

“It doesn’t explain why you’re pretending to be a titan.”

Riku sighed as he went through the entire story of how the traveler changed his light in the pale heart to stave off the witness from creating the final shape. When he finished lady Efrideet nodded and then asked,

“So why are you still a titan then?”

Riku was unsure how to really process that. Lady Efrideet smiled as she watched him ponder her words. Deciding the simpler approach she said

“Tell you what, if you can beat me right now I'll drop my questions and let you go on with your day. If you can't I want you to go put your “correct” armor back on.” she watched as Riku furrowed his brow until she said the magic words.

“If you win I'll give you food.”Riku’s mind fog cleared and he agreed hastily.

After Riku's crushing loss to Lady Efrideet, he found himself in his Warlock robes again, per her conditions of the duel. As much as he wanted to resent her, he knew deep down she was right—he wasn't "tough enough" to be a true Titan. So he donned his robes and his bond once again.

While walking through the Tower, Ikora caught sight of him and smiled.

"It's good to see one of my proteges back to their roots," she said happily.

"Begrudgingly," Riku replied.

"Don't say that," Ikora chided gently. "The Traveler placed you under my care because you are wise and discerning, able to see through the world's secrets and mysteries. Don't feel less worthy just because you lack the pauldrons and 'power' of a Titan."

"I thought I was called to be a Titan," Riku admitted. "During the fights with the witness and my journey through the pale heart, I was granted a Titan's power and couldn't access my Warlock ones at all. I accessed the Sol Hammer and Twilight's Arsenal. I felt at peace. it felt right."

Ikora shook her head. "Ah, but I watched you as a titan. you lacked the keen sight and strength that you have had. You played it safe and slow. You often would hesitate. A true Titan wouldn't have that hesitation. Look at Saint-14 and Shaxx—they embody the Titan spirit through and through. You aren't a Titan, and that's perfectly fine. The Traveler gave you the Light of a Titan to overcome the Witness, but your Light is naturally attuned to a Warlock. Let your recent experiences refine you, not hold you back." as Ikora spoke Riku knew she was right but didn't have to like it.

After his chat with Ikora, Riku headed to Iron Banner to fulfill Yel's request for help with her first trial weekend. He managed to assemble a team consisting of Soup (Titan), Hyeju (Titan), himself (Warlock), Yel (Warlock), Minjeong (Hunter), and Asimov-1 (Hunter). Hyeju and Yel were surprised to see Riku in his Warlock robes.

“So, no more Titan cosplay?” Soup teased.

Riku rolled his eyes. “It wasn't cosplay, and you know that, Soup.”

Soup let out a light chuckle. “Yeah, still funny though.”

Riku sighed, feeling the weight of his transition. “Yeah, I guess.”

Asimov-1, slightly annoyed, turned to his two friends. “Hey guys, let’s get ready for today.”

Riku put on his Skybreaker's helm, trying to focus on the task ahead. The battle began, and a familiar melody started to play in his mind. He took out the Tarrabah and initiated his hunt.

Like a beast uncaged, Riku tore through the competition. His first elimination came when a Hunter on the opposing team got too cocky and hit him with a shotgun. Out of proper range, the pellets scattered harmlessly, allowing Riku to unload a full magazine of the ravenous beast into the Hunter. His next four eliminations targeted the three weakest members of the enemy team, whom he stalked relentlessly. When his team did see him, all they saw was a blur of bullets and fire. But in his fervor, Riku was far from perfect. He often found himself out of position, leading to four knockouts. Thankfully, his team carried their weight, making up for his mistakes and earning a close win. Riku ended up in the middle of the scoreboard with 18 eliminations and 6 knockouts, while Yel and Asimov topped the board with 24 eliminations and 3 knockouts (Yel) and 22 eliminations and 4 knockouts (Asimov).

Yel was unaccustomed to seeing Riku so feral and aggressive; it frightened her. Here, her mentor was little more than a caged animal. It made her question if he should be her mentor, but she couldn’t deny his skill or wisdom. The following matches were more of the same, with Yel watching as Riku fought with increasing savagery and cunning.

After the first day of Iron Banner, Riku found a quiet corner to nurse his headache with an ice pack. Lady Efrideet approached him with a knowing smile, mirroring how she first met the Awoken Warlock.

“I saw some of your matches,” Lady Efrideet said, smiling. “While I still don’t agree with your methods, you were radiant.”

“No, I wasn’t, and you know it, Lady Efrideet,” Riku responded tersely, pressing the ice pack harder against his temple.

Lady Efrideet grinned, her eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and affection. “You’re right, you were you, and that is more important. Also, that robe you wore into combat—is that new?”

Riku shrugged, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on him. “Kinda. It was a significantly better roll than I had, so I’m using it more.”

“Oh, okay. What’s it called? It suits you more than the Sunbracers,” Lady Efrideet retorted, her tone teasing yet gentle.

“Well, I told you the Sunbracers was a matter of practicality, not attunement. To answer your question, though, the robes are called 'The Mantle of Battle Harmony.'”

Lady Efrideet nodded before noticing Riku's disdainful expression. “Are you still upset over this morning?” she asked, her tone shifting from playful to concerned.

"Yes. I wasn't expecting consecration not to work. Nor was I expecting everything to just be weird,” Riku admitted, frustration seeping into his voice.

"Spoken like a true Warlock,” Lady Efrideet observed. “Relying on your abilities and combat in an intricate dance. You see if you were truly a Titan..."

“Can you stop, Efrideet? I have a lot on my mind, and I don’t want to think about it all that much. Especially with my headache,” Riku drawled out, his patience wearing thin.

Lady Efrideet smiled before leaving, “Okay then, Tanuki, I will leave you alone.”

A flash of recognition went off in Riku's mind. “Wait, that reminds me. I do have one question. Why is it that everyone else sees me as a bear, and you see me as a Raccoon Dog?”

Lady Efrideet smirked. “Oh, so you finally looked up what a Tanuki is?”

Riku nodded, his curiosity piqued.

“Good. Well, now I have a new homework assignment for you. Look up Tanukis and their significance.”

Riku groaned. “Oh come on, I hate homework. Just tell me. Who knows when the next time I’ll see you.”

“Nope. You are my student, and I would be a bad teacher if I gave you the answer,” Lady Efrideet said firmly.

Riku's resentment and frustration got the better of him. He thought he left games and riddles behind with the death of the Witness, so he snapped at Efrideet, “Efrideet, please don’t do this. Just tell me, please. It’s been a long day, and I want to rest.”

"You don’t understand. You don’t get to have the easy route because then you won’t care. Everything I have taught you has stuck more than it has with Ikora because I gave you the skeleton, not an answer. You are as strong as you are right now because your knowledge and wisdom were earned, not granted. You are wizened, and for those who you will teach, you will need to continue to learn and master,” Lady Efrideet explained, her tone now serious and commanding.

Riku sighed, realizing the truth in her words. “Fine. I’ll look it up. But you better have some good explanations ready for me when I see you next.”

Lady Efrideet chuckled, her demeanor softening. “Deal. And remember, Riku, you are more than your doubts and frustrations. Embrace who you are, fully.” Riku groaned as he got up. Lady Efrideet laughed and said, “Bye hun stay safe,” Riku groaned.

Hours later, Riku arrived at Miso’s shop. He waited for two and a half hours, then another hour. After three and a half hours, Miso approached him. Riku maintained a blank expression, but his fists were clenched tightly.

“Hey Riku, are you okay? Where’s Yel?” Miso asked. Riku ran his tongue over his teeth, paid the bill, and left without a word. When he got back home, he covered his face and silently sobbed. Sashimi watched dejectedly as her Guardian continued to hurt.

The next day, Asimov-1 asked Miso-1 if he could fill in for Riku. Miso-1 agreed, confused as to why Riku didn’t show. He was thankful not to be the only new face. Hyeju had asked her other Titan friend, Hayoung, to help, and she showed up ready to play. When he got there, he realized why. Yel.

Miso-1 approached Yel, who gave him a bright smile. “Hey Yel, where were you yesterday? Riku waited for you for three and a half hours.”

“Well, he’s been weird the last few days,” Yel said. Joshua (Soup) and Asimov looked at her, confused. Yel noticed their expressions.

“What? You saw him yesterday; he was deranged,” Yel defended herself. Miso-1 looked at her, puzzled.

“One of his epithets is ‘the ravenous beast who hunted gods,’” he responded, but before anything else could be said, Iron Banner started.

While this was going on, Riku arrived at the Tower’s library and decided to look up all the terms and ideas Lady Efrideet had exposed him to.

“Hey Sashimi, where would books about Tanukis be located?”

Sashimi scoured her records and then came up with an answer. “Information about Tanuki can be found in quadrant four of the library.” Riku sighed before beginning his ten-minute trek to section four. It took him another seventeen minutes to find the books about Tanukis, but most weren’t in English, so he asked Sashimi where books that could translate the symbols would be.

“Section two,” she said. Riku sighed again as he began another ten-minute trek. When he arrived, it took him another thirteen minutes to find translation books.

After that, he spent the next hour studying. What he gathered was that Tanuki were animals that looked like raccoons but were not related to raccoons at all and were popular in Japanese folklore. Riku sighed when he realized that Lady Efrideet would ask him more, so he got back up and went to section two where books about Danuki should be. When Riku returned to his seat twenty-three minutes later, he threw his head back and groaned, seeing his books had been moved. So he went through the entire process again.

Thirty-five minutes later, he was back to studying. He learned that Danuki were trickster spirits driven by an insatiable desire for freedom. They were highly social creatures who enjoyed spending time with others, could shapeshift, change the form of other things, and were masters of disguise and humor. Their most defining personality trait was their willingness to do anything to win any wager. No stakes were too small, and every bet was life or death. They hated losing but would do so graciously, reveling in victory and fun but could be vicious and cutthroat.

Another thing that stood out was the almost constant comparison to fox spirits in the same folklore. As Riku studied, his brow furrowed. While he understood the info, it made little sense, or maybe that was all the walking back and forth. He decided to leave after that, not wanting to do any more walking. He wiped his face with his hands before leaving the library. On his way home, he decided to stop by Miso-1’s shop for food. It was usually dead around this time. He walked in to see Eunha and Yel along with many of his other friends. They all looked at him when he opened the door. Riku slowly closed the door, and before they could follow him, went to his ship and flew into orbit before heading to do several Dares of Eternity.

Over the next few weeks, Riku made it his mission to not speak to anyone. He didn’t pick up calls, answer fireteam invites—the whole shebang. He didn’t even speak to his Ghost, but Sashimi could see he was suffering.

The only reason this stopped was because Lady Efrideet found out. She knew his routine better than anyone else, so on his way to finally perfecting the craftable Outbreak, Lady Efrideet cornered him along with her other student, Yuju.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Lady Efrideet asked.

“Oh, hi, Efrideet. Hi, Yuju.”

Yuju looked at Riku, confused. “Wait, how do you know my name?” she asked, her eyes narrowing in worry.

“Um, you are Eunha's friend. We met during the Vow of the Disciple raid.” Yuju's head reared back as she remembered. The human Titan stared at the Awoken, surprised.

“You have a good memory,” she complimented. Riku bashfully shrugged, making Yuju giggle. Lady Efrideet smiled as her plan moved along.

“Hey, so Yuju needs help getting Stoicism. Can you help her?” Lady Efrideet asked. Riku scowled, his gaze turning to Yuju, and then he slowly started nodding.

“Great,” she said, pushing Yuju closer to Riku. Before she could leave, Riku asked her about Tanukis.

“I thought I told you to…” Before she could finish, Riku interjected.

“Tanuki is a raccoon/dog-like animal from Golden Age Japan, where numerous folklore legends are based. They are typically harmless animals to humans and, once domesticated, make fantastic pets. They are foragers behaviorally and typically live to a median age of ten years, accounting for differences in lifestyle. They are smaller than the general raccoon dog found in other portions of Asia. The Danuki is the folklore spirit equivalent of the Tanuki in Japanese folklore, known for its mischievous and jovial nature. They possess several powers, with the key one being shapeshifting. They are also typically harmless to humans and love to play games with them to satiate their fathomless appetite for novelty and challenge. The most famous of the Danuki is named Danzaborou and has several stories of his exploits throughout Japan,” Riku droned, unbroken. Lady Efrideet was impressed.

"I guess you did your homework, and then some," Lady Efrideet replied. Yuju began laughing profusely at Riku's recital while Lady Efrideet tried to piece together what to say next.

"Yes, now why did you compare me to that?" Riku asked, confused.

Lady Efrideet looked at the Warlock and saw the pain in his eyes. Something was troubling him. So she threw him a bone this time.

"When I found you as a fledgling guardian, you reveled in your power. Which was fine, I believe all Warlocks do, even the more spiritual ones. But I could see the wear that being a Warlock brings. That playful joy was replaced by an annoyed sense of duty. You gave up on understanding who you are and became what others needed, as evidenced by your almost crutch-like use of Well of Radiance and The Divinity. I think the Traveler gave you the power of the Titan to reset you and let you be who you are at heart," Lady Efrideet explained.

Riku looked at her, confused, asking, "And what is that?"

"A trickster god with an insatiable appetite for victory," Lady Efrideet said.

Riku shrugged as he nodded in understanding before giving a thumbs up and turning to Yuju. For the first time, his spirits were slightly higher than before.

“Come on, Coyote, we’ve got work to do.” Yuju turned to Lady Efrideet with a surprised smirk, who nodded. She turned back to Riku, who was heading to his ship.

“How did you know Lady Efrideet called me that?” Yuju asked.

“Because she does things symmetrically. If I’m a trickster spirit, that makes you one too,” Riku replied, not missing a beat. Both Lady Efrideet and Yuju made a mental note to never underestimate Riku and his perception. After Lady Efrideet left, Yuju followed Riku. Curious about the Titan, Riku started asking her about herself.

“So, what’s your story, Yuju?” Yuju was a little taken aback and nervous.

“Why do you want to know?” she snapped. Riku stopped, turned around, and tilted his head to scowl at her.

“I’m sorry, I’m just nervous. I’m not used to being around others. I usually fly solo, and I’ve known the group I usually fight with since I was brought back.”

Riku nodded as he listened intently to Yuju. As she watched him, her shoulders and arms relaxed the tension they carried. “Oh, interesting. You don’t see too many mass rebirths. When were you brought back?”

Yuju’s eyes looked up as she remembered. “Right after ‘we’ dealt with the House of Wolves,” she said.

Riku nodded and responded, “Oh, okay. Neat. I was raised right before the Red War, but didn’t make a name for myself until we discovered Stasis.” Yuju smiled as she listened to the Warlock speak. She felt an odd sense of connection to him as a fellow student of Lady Efrideet.

"Oh, wait, that means you saw Lord Saladin rebuild the Iron Lords," Yuju replied.

"Kinda. I was just starting when the young wolf had already garnered an insane reputation. I was just a no-name new light," Riku said.

"Well, you are certainly not that anymore. Eunha has told me all about the Chimera with the bottomless appetite for adventure and conquest," Yuju responded.

"Oh, you know Eunha," Riku said, displaying interest but guarding himself intensely.

"Yeah, we used to raid a lot together, but we have kinda fallen out of raiding. Now Eunha mostly works with Umji and SinB, as you already know," Yuju explained.

Riku nodded back. As they talked, they found themselves moving closer to each other. Yuju crossed her arms and tilted her head with intrigue. She stared into the Warlock’s eyes and found warmth and compassion, but also an intense burning rage. She knew Warlocks came in three typical flavors: deep scholars who studied the arcane and the rest of the world, high priests who took their spiritual journey too seriously, or the emotional maelstroms who were guided by their hearts and passions. At first, she thought he was a scholar, but Yuju was starting to realize there was more to this magic man than met the eye.

As they got to their ships, Yuju decided to be straightforward and charge right to her most pressing question.

“Hey Riku, a few weeks ago, I heard from a friend who helped Yel in Iron Banner, and when someone mentioned you, Yel freaked out. Why?” Yuju asked.

Yuju watched as Riku winced. It saddened her. He seemed so kind, and the question seemed to physically hurt him, but she stood firm, confident in her choice.

“I can’t confirm this because we haven’t talked in many weeks, but I’m almost positive it’s how she saw me fight in Iron Banner,” he answered.

Yuju furrowed her brow as she processed what Riku said. “Wait?”

Riku nodded, his face making an exaggerated expression. “Yep. She had never seen me fight. She only watched me teach.”

Yuju reeled back, confused. “Wait, huh? Why would she have an issue with that?”

Riku shrugged. “Human perception is weird.”

Yuju looked at him, intrigued, before she asked, “Well, now I’ve got to ask, how do you fight?”

Riku squinted at Yuju. He understood her question but was confused about how to respond.

“My favorite exotics are Tarrabah, the Heart of Inmost Light, and the Mantle of Battle Harmony. What does that tell you about my fighting style?” he said.

“Aggressive solar ability spam,” Yuju answered flatly. Riku laughed with her and nodded. She smiled and chuckled as the duo got to their ships.

They flew to the Pale Heart to do the mission. As they pushed through, Riku got to see Yuju in action. She was smooth. While not as balls-to-the-wall as him, her skill with making shots and keeping her profile low made her an excellent Guardian. Had he not known any better, he would have mistaken her for a Hunter with her impressive level of marksmanship.

When the pair reached the final battle of the mission, Yuju watched as Riku gave himself fully to the battle harmony. She watched with an amused smirk as he sang a song called "God of Fire" while he fought. Despite him screaming the lyrics like a madman, she found herself endeared to him more. As she saw through the veneer of scary words and terrifying symbolism to see him having fun with her, it made her feel good to have an ally to fight with for a change. After the mission, both guardians chose peace and grabbed their earned loot. Yuju smiled

"I got exactly what I wanted Hoil, Arm. What roll did you get?" She asked giddy

Riku responded with a sigh before answering with a feigned dejected tone, "I only got the best roll for me with HOIL, and Mantle." as he spoke he raised his intonation and enthusiasm Yuju smirked and said,

"I think this will be the beginning of a very fun friendship,"

Riku feeling bold responded, "Hell yeah, but please don't blame me if fall for you though you're very pretty,"

Yuju paused then she laughed. Riku stood worried before Yuju said,

"God I love a man who knows what he wants and goes for it."

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #destiny 2 smut #destiny 2 fanfic #destiny 2 warlock #destiny guardians #gfriend smut #gfriend yuju #yuju

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erisxdrifter · 3 months

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Make this story

1. Drifter and Eris doing dirty talking then Ikora catches them HAHAHAHAHAHA

2. Eris is sick so her beloved Rat takes care of him.

Here's the story for your first request, hope you love it!! I'm working on your second request, and I'll try and send it soon! 🥳 Thank you so much for the requests!!

The Drifter ran two fingers along the bright orange railing in his section of the Annex, collecting a small layer of grime and dust on his fingertips, staring at it with speculative and judging eye.

"Observing dust are you, Rat?" Came a mellow voice from behind him.

He turned towards the doorway, a smile already on his lips.

"Hey, Moondust." He greeted. "C'mere, will you?"

Eris eyed him suspiciously, cautiously approaching where he stood.

"What is it?" She asked, looking down at the railing when he pointed at it.

"Look," The Drifter replied. "What do you see?"

Eris frowned. "Dust."

"Exactly. Dust and dirt, on the railing. How?" He stared at it quizzically.

"Perhaps from the rafters above." Eris replied, unfazed. "The idea is not particularly strange."

"But c'mere, look at this too," he walked them over to the table nearby which was topped with books, a pot, jade coins, and a Cabal helmet.

"Look at the table." He pointed to more dust. "How is the table so dusty? 'Specially the coins, you know I use 'em like a hawk. How come they're already covered in dust 'n grime?"

"I doubt the Tower is without it's vermin, Drifter." Eris replied, observing the table and coins. "A mouse or rat could easily have crawled across the rafters and kicked down the dust and dirt you see here."

"This much dust? Nah, that don't make sense. How does dirt get up on the rafters, anyway?"

"Rats are not typically very clean creatures," Eris jabbed at him teasingly. "When did this start?" She asked before he could make a jab back at her.

"Been goin' on for a few days." He told her. "And don't tell me a rat kicked down this much dirt, Moondust. I've been cleanin' it up every day and it's still comin'."

"I will admit that is strange." Eris relented.

"Run your finger through it," he told her.

"What? Why would I do that?"

"So you can see how thick it is."

"Rat-"

"Moondust," the Drifter interrupted.

"Fine," Eris eventually grumbled, running the tip of her gloved finger through the dust. "It is surprisingly thick, I will admit." She said as she observed her finger.

"Exactly, isn't that-"

The Drifter was interrupted mid-sentence by the sound of a throat being cleared from the doorway.

Both Eris and the Drifter jerked their heads toward the sound, finding Ikora Rey standing at the entrance of the room.

"Am I interrupting something?" She asked, appearing faintly amused. "Something about dust?"

The Drifter coughed. "Yeah, I was just sayin' how the Vanguard charge me too much to keep a room that's got dust and dirt fallin' from the rafters."

"What brings you here, Ikora?" Eris interjected.

"I heard you were in the Annex," she began. "And I came to make sure there wasn't something wrong."

"Why would anything be wrong?"

"I supposed that perhaps the Hive had become a more dire threat once again, and that you had come to the Tower to give a report in person." Ikora explained. "But I am glad to see the only matter is... dust."

"And dirt." The Drifter added.

"Yes. Well, if that is all then I will be going." Ikora offered a small smile. "It's good to see you, Eris."

Eris gave Ikora a nod as she left the room. "Enough talking about dust, Rat." She told the Drifter once Ikora was gone, sighing and shaking her head.

"But it's still weird!" The Drifter exclaimed.

"I'm sure it is merely a rodent crawling across the-"

"Rafters. Yeah, yeah, I know." He sighed.

"I will be going, Rat, before you get any more worked up on the matter of dust." She turned away, heading for the exit.

"Hey! I'm not worked up!" He called after her. "Moondust! Come back!"

She laughed quietly to herself as she walked down the hall.

#drifteris #moonrat #erifter #eris morn x drifter #eris x drifter #drifter x eris #eris morn/the drifter #eris and drifter #eris morn #the drifter #destiny 2 #destiny the game #destiny 2 fanfic #destiny 2 stories #destiny 2 story request #thank you so much for the story request!#:))

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phantomwarrior12 · 1 year

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Alive?

This is a dream…or some cruel, horrendous joke.

But he’s right there. He’s alive.

The Young Wolf’s knees meet earth with an unceremonious thud as she stares up at her Vanguard, her mentor, her friend.

You’re alive?

The Ace of Spades is a steady weight on her hip but for a moment, it isn’t a crushing reminder of her failure but a firm reassurance from a friend. Is this what hope feels like? After so long, trudging from one debilitating atrocity to another, can she…finally have a win without repercussions?

Can she have her best friend back?

“Hey kiddo,” Cayde smiles at her, moving from his place beside the Warlock Vanguard to approach the trembling Hunter. He kneels down, laying a hand - Traveler, it’s solid, it’s real - along her shoulder. Her head lifts a fraction and in an instant, her arms are bound around his neck and a heavy, anguished sob is torn from her chest.

“Aw, missed me, huh?” He tries to tease even as he gathers the Guardian into his arms and holds her tight. “It’s okay. I’m fine, yeah?”

She can’t answer. Words are knots in her throat that will not dislodge.

Cayde-6 looks over his shoulder at Ikora with a smile and she folds her arms across her chest, a gentle warmth to her smile as they stay in silence.

He's here and she can - fuck, she's missed him.

After the Leviathan, after making peace with his death - she never dreamt she'd see him again.

And maybe it's not really him.

But the arms that hold her are too familiar to deny.

You're alive.

She's sure this is only temporary. Some last ditch effort from the Traveler to protect itself. To rally.

But she doesn't care.

Maybe this time…she'll get to say goodbye.

Hey, take me with you.

—

Forevers: @halo-2 @reaped-winnower @forgotten-by-the-stars @sugarcoated44 @cayde-6 @aetosavros @niemands-bibliothek @paracausal-hunter @silverhandsamurais @orbdotexe

#cayde 6 #the final shape #destiny 2 #destiny #destiny 2 showcase #season of the witch #the young wolf #destiny 2 fanfiction #phantom writes

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speaker-of-the-void-cats · 4 months

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"You must learn to tease apart the hues of your own heart." —Parables of the Allspring.

Hey all! I'm a Warlock main named Matt and I've been posting my scattershot Destiny musings, ramblings, and theories since Lightfall's release. In that time, I've really enjoyed exploring the mysteries of the lore and honing my thoughts on Destiny's story through various posting styles. Particularly, I've loved exploring topics like the nature of the Darkness and the Veil, and their place in the story, as well as the generally rhyming, looping, spiraling structure of the game's narrative. I also love Eris, Drifter, Savathûn, and Osiris!

Sometimes I get a little all over, especially in those early posts, with big leaps and a lot of my own writing connecting the dots in an attempt to see a bit into the future. You'll have to pardon some of them, as I'm sure a few have aged pretty poorly or are just straight up bad. But as we've gone through the seasons and learned more, I've tried a sort of variation on web-weaving and assemblage by using lore entries, images, video, and sometimes song lyrics and poetry in a particular order and context to evoke specific moods or convey big, hard to articulate ideas and speculation. Sometimes, I just explore a theme or specific lore nook that fascinates me. It's a weird little practice in meaning-making I really like and the process has helped me unearth possible connections between things I've never considered in my many years following the lore.

As we move through The Final Shape, I wanted to finally compile a list of links to all my posts. Pardon the amount of repetition and, probably, off-the-wall speculation, but I hope you find something interesting if you decide to check them out! Also, keep an eye out for links. Sometimes it's simply the source text on Ishtar, other times.... something more. Please keep in mind that all these are products of the moment in time they were posted in, so topics I explored in early ones may have questions answered in the seasons since, or theories may have been proven unequivocally wrong. The list will largely go from earliest to most recent, and I'll put a * next to my favorites!

The Veil, Nezarec, and Jakob Bohme

Seeing the murals above the Veil enclosure

EMBRACE THE DARKNESS

Thank You, Verse 154i:4 - Call the Thrall

MCXLLII-I, forthcoming.

The EDZ saw paracausal conflict long before the Collapse

Pattern is system and system is sequence, but what is sequence?

Forsaken Lightfall

Deterministic Chaos

Eight

SALVAGE THE TRUTH

Aren't they beautiful?

"What is this feeling? I do not want it."

"They desired meaning. A Winnower to shape the garden."*

"How many legends of katabasis do we have, Ikora?"*

The Sundial

The Dreaming Cities

Not Light, not Dark: Power.*

Chiasmus*

Conspiracy Theory-D

The Truth in the Darkness...

Have you ever been afraid of your own Shadow?*

[I could be wrong. Is it possible the Black Heart will beat again?]*

Prismatic Hearts*

"We are unique emanations of the same shared Light."

Kugelblitz

Final attempts to understand before the Shape is unveiled*

[The following posts contain entries, imagery, and spoilers for the Final Shape and Echoes]

Paradrome

Speaker's Sight — Study the voice. Gaze into the heart.

"Focus. The Pyramid distracts. Nothing more."

It all means one thing

DECRYPTION KEY: 3136664202-777

Ruinous Effigy

There is only SUFFERING

SPOILER ALERT

Hope for the Future

It's not over

Echoing

Echoes of Deep Hidden Truth

Solipsism

Anima Mundi

Caught up in a web

II. Theory**

Gardener|ɿɘwonniW**

Cipher**

Eclipse**

"What is 'OXA,' and who was 'MSund12'?"

I know you're not afraid of a little dark...

How do I live?

Half-Truths**

!lettinggo*

Abyssus abyssum invocat***

THE POINT***

Eyes up, Guardian

"The road ahead is unknown, but time tells us many things. The moments that become past in turn become blueprints for the future. In this space, there is no right or wrong. "We find a contemporaneous merging of what is known and what is unknown here. Somewhere between the knowns and unknowns lies the real. The tangible. "There is a weight to it; a feeling that tells you what you hold is true. "But what if the truth hasn't been told? What if the truth is a lie? "New paths present themselves. Blueprints change. We walk the line of truth every day. "But now, the line that holds the gentle balance has been crossed. "The truth is, this won't be the last time."

—Excerpt from the Symmetry pamphlet, "A Place Between"

Reading for world-building is a skill. I have seen brilliant people, laureates, inventors, Ph.D.s, try to read fiction with deep world-building and fail completely, looping back, rereading, never following events, trapped in a sense of muddled wandering. Reading for world-building requires retaining information without context: a term, a place, a coin, a category comes up once and we know what that is—a puzzle piece—and that our task is to gather up these pieces as the author drops them, and to slowly assemble the whole. This is not easy. Human memory needs hooks for facts: a mnemonic, a story, context, something; grueling textbook rote-learning fades quickly, but a story of the statesman or the king, that's what makes knowledge stay. To retain puzzle pieces that don't connect, dropped without context, is a skill that not all have. All had it once: it is how children read, every book, poster, and headline a stream of unknown terms, far too many to ask about them all, but the child retains them, trusting that they will connect to something someday. Kids collect Earth's puzzle pieces every time they read, but as we move to grown-up books they all use the same picture, and define immediately those terms they fear a reader may not know. Thus the skill of keeping puzzle pieces fades, unless we read books set in other worlds, new puzzle pictures which make us retain the skill, as frogs sometimes retain their tadpole tails into adulthood. This—many have observed—is why most F&SF readers come to the genre young, it's hard to start in adulthood when one's puzzle memory skill has sat atrophied. We find dozens of other puzzle pieces—creatures, buried engines, monstrous plants—but they don't connect either, no explanations, no recurrences. We trust. We ponder. We wade through the clutter of clashing technologies, tales of degeneration, glories lost, but there's no fall-of-space-Rome story to connect it up. We can guess at one, as we can guess the missing end of the story of the strange plants, as we can guess at several ways rats could gain language if time passed and—click—we see it. These puzzle pieces do not fit together—rather this puzzle-maker trusts that we are puzzle-masters and know the archetypes that must fill in between (a rise, an age, a destined king.) So we spread our disconnected puzzle pieces out, not assuming that the strange creatures come from one origin, the ruins from one era, and as we spread out, looking not for direct connections but for fragments of arcs and colors, our 100 puzzle pieces let us glimpse an image so vast it would take 100,000—an image large enough to capture true Deep Future, years numbered in millions, where contours that do connect do so at scales which make the layers of Freud's Rome appear shallow as coats of paint.

—Excerpts from The Path of the New Sun by Ada Palmer, introduction to The Book of the New Sun by Gene Wolfe

#trace the vermicular path #destiny 2 #destiny #destiny the game #destiny lore #d2 #destiny2 #destinythegame #pinned post #intro post

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telestoapologist · 3 months

Text

hey also uh. quick question. we've only been given like... three radio messages in the helm right. like i know there's going to be another act but i'm not sure if there were any extra ones i missed hhh

also has anyone else completed this or do we gotta wait for ikora to get back to us to start act ii...

#can you tell i'm Nervous and Afraid #destiny 2

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caydesaceinthehole · 1 month

Note

Sometimes i worry about you, you say a lot of mean things about yourself and i just cant tell if i should seek out a therapist for you or handle you myself.

or just tell Ikora, whatever works.

Hey, hey, no, come on now. I don't need therapy. I'm as fine as I'll ever be. And don't tell Ikora that either, that'll just create a whole lot more trouble. More than it's worth. Besides, I can't think of anything "mean" I've said about myself.Not in recent memory anyway. I'm pretty great, it's me,after all.

Unless you've been reading my-

Wait.

You haven't been reading my journals have you?

#ask cayde #cayde-6 #cayde 6 #destiny 2 #destiny #destiny the game

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the-light-finds-its-way · 6 months

Text

Every year on April Fools, Cayde has played some sort of prank on Magnus. It's completely unexpected every time. It always catches the Titan off guard and is harmless completely, but it's time for payback. Absolutely.

So this April Fools, Magnus sets a trap SUPER devious, for his husband, as revenge.

Cayde visits the Tower to go to his Vanguard post. But as soon as he arrives, he finds dozens of Guardians riding various sparrows around in a circle while... is that It's a Small World being sung by every Guardian all at once offkey?!

Cayde cautiously makes his way to Zavala and asks what's going on.

"Nothing. Nothing at all. Why do you ask?" Zavala replies.

"Uhh. The Guardians. Singing. Riding sparrows."

"Huh? What Guardians?" Zavala looks around questioningly.

Cayde throws his hands toward the circle of singing Guardians. "RIGHT THERE, ZAVALA!! THEY'RE PRACTICALLY IN FRONT OF YOU!! THEY'RE SINGING IT'S A SMALL WORLD!!"

Zavala frowns, crossing his arms. "I neither see nor hear anyone besides you screaming at me."

Cayde almost explodes at this. He storms off to find Ikora, and forcefully drags her to the main portion of the Tower. "THEY'RE HERE!! CAN'T YOU SEE THEM?! HEAR THEIR AWFUL SINGING??!!" he cries.

Ikora sighs. "Cayde. Stop playing games. Get back to work. Nobody is there."

Cayde is so angry at this point. He rushes home to Magnus, and grabs him by the arm as best as he can grab a giant beefy Titan by the arm. "Please!! Honey!! You have to believe me!! They were singing!! Riding sparrows in a circle!!"

Reluctantly, Magnus goes along with his husband to the Tower. And the Guardians are still riding around singing offkey.

"PLEASE TELL ME YOU SEE THEM!!!" Cayde begs.

But Magnus shakes his head. "Is this another one of your April Fools day pranks?" he asks. "Because if it is, it's your worst yet." Magnus turns away and walks off.

The ceaseless circle of singing Guardians still continues. And Cayde goes to everyone in the Tower asking if they can see or hear this at all. A Cabal looks angrily at him at one point, then does the big stomp and sends him flying. Eliksni chitter and scuttle away from Cayde as soon as he asks the bizarre question. Everyone denies confirmation that this circle of Guardians is there. Nobody can see or hear them besides Cayde. But nonetheless the Guardians continue riding and singing all day long. Nonstop.

That night, the Exo returns home and flops face first into the sofa, groaning loudly.

Magnus approaches. "What's wrong, babe?"

"Nobody. Not one person believes me when I ask if they see or hear them..."

"Maybe it'll be gone tomorrow. Maybe things will return to normal by then."

Cayde groans even louder. "I hate this!! On my favorite day of the year!!!"

"Your favorite? Why? What's so special about today?" Magnus asks.

"It's April Fools. I should've spent the day playing a prank on you. But it feels like the universe is playing pranks on me. All my efforts coming back like a sick joke torturing me endlessly."

And there, Magnus grins wide.

Cayde looks at him. "Wh... what? What're you doing?"

Magnus giggles uncontrollably.

Cayde's eyes widen. "NO!! NO WAY!! YOU DIDN'T-"

"APRIL FUCKING FOOLS IDIOT!!" Magnus bursts out in complete laughter and doubles over, unable to contain himself any longer.

Cayde tackles him to the floor and is BEAMING with frustration.

Magnus smiles and lifts his head up, then kisses his husband. "Hope I did a good job. I was afraid I'd never outdo your legacy, or even reach it. But hey. It was my first prank ever. I love you."

"You outdid me by light-years," Cayde tells him. "I'm so proud of you!!!"

#funny #d2 #cayde 6 #magnus thorbjorn #april fools #guardians #my guardians

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a-driftamongopenstars · 3 months

Text

too much to ask; cayde & guardian

exploring some personal thoughts about Cayde through my Guardian :) been really looking forward to writing this ficlet! also on ao3

An equal measure of grief and accord settles around the small camp. A few empty bottles of wine sit by a folding chair, the Ghosts are quietly huddling together, giving space to their Guardians. Crow, after giving the Guardian and Cayde a small drowsy smile, has walked away to join Zavala and Ikora as they overlook the endless valley of the Pale Heart, contemplating.

Cherish finds herself alone with Cayde. He comes to sit on the ground next to her, plucking a grass stem and fixing it in his mouth.

“They are not very subtle, are they,” Cayde says. “Really want us to talk, huh.”

“Maybe we should.”

“Not to be all Crow-like, but I agree. We do need to talk, something important.”

Cherish looks at him, a curious sideways glance.

It's been ages since they have shared a moment like this together. Never been good friends, not even as a mentor and mentee. A friction that neither could express or smooth out. But something companionable always tried to bloom between them. Maybe back then, she wasn't ready yet. And he didn’t want to push.

“You've changed,” Cayde says, and her spine crawls with a shiver. He notices and adds, “Hey, that's not a bad thing. If we all stay the same, what kinda world would that be? Change is beautiful. Painful, uncomfortable, but beautiful. And you turned it around. Look at you.”

Pride swells in her chest, tightening. At what cost is a question that hangs in the air.

“It… wasn't easy. When you died.”

“Straight to the point, I see. Always liked that about you.”

“I mean it, Cayde,” she turns to look at him, meeting eye to eye. “You died, and I was meant to pick up the pieces. Go on a murder spree, stray from everything I've ever known, and when it was all done, I watched a man die - with a part of myself.”

Cayde's bright glowing eyes focus on her. She wants him to feel her desperate pain that still echoes from that time. Her confusion that muddled the thoughts, her headstrong intentions as she scoured the Reef for Uldren and for answers.

“It's a lot to ask of you, I understand.”

“It was expected as it was questioned. If I could become a vigilante overnight, then why couldn't others. And if I didn’t go and become one, then that would have sent the wrong message.”

Cayde sighs and moves a little closer. To her own surprise, she does the same, until their arms touch. And as another surprise, she finds her fingers encrusted with a layer of Stasis ice, crumbling at her notice.

It's been too long since those thoughts surfaced quite so physically, and she suddenly feels drained.

“I'm not gonna apologise,” Cayde prefaces, “but I get it. Maybe even more than you think. And I wish you weren't put in that position. And for that, I am sorry. The Vanguard always asks a lot of you.”

For a moment, they are quiet.

“So… How did that happen?”

“What?”

Cayde glances over to Crow whose back is still turned, his cape softly flowing with the wind.

Cherish huffs, rolling her eyes, but her lips are already smiling.

“No, no, I'm not judging. Just curious. You keep giving each other those eyes and I keep wanting to push y’all into a tent and let you get on with it. Still, wonder how that came ‘round. Can't imagine it being all sunshine and rainbows after… Well.”

“Yeah... We did have some monster hunting, some Ascendant Plane racing, having the Traveler’s premonitions, being babysat by Savathun in disguise…”

As she numbers it off on her fingers, Cayde laughs.

“Well hold on there, tiger, not so fast. A who in disguise?”

“Don't tell me Crow didn't update you on that particular situation. He's efficient with his reports.”

“I'm well aware,” Cayde hums. “But I'd like to hear that from you. If you wanna share. Penny for your thoughts?”

Their eyes meet, and for a moment Cherish feels that maybe that camaraderie, long time in the making, can finally happen. She is different, she did change. So did Cayde.

He offers her an empty hand, and she squeezes it, holding on. But somehow, that handshake is worth a hundred thousand pennies - and a small pile of glimmer.

#destiny 2 #destiny 2 spoilers #the guardian #cayde-6 #young wolf #cherish #fanfiction #driftcreates

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imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese · 19 days

Text

Wind Chimes

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

A cluster of guardians waited patiently as Eris dealt with them one by one in the Athenaeum. Even though her time as the Hive god of vengeance was over, there was still valuable work to do. Eris thanked each one in turn as they brought her various items: notes on the inner workings of a puzzle in Savathun’s spire, bounties for various tasks, cards for the Deck of Whispers, samples of the purple cabbages in the Throne World.

Ikora transmitted in and apologized for the interruption as she gathered some reports before acknowledging the last three remaining.

“Rani.” The first titan nodded at her name.

“Kohl-Chi.” The second titan gave Ikora a short bow.

“Finch, is it?” she paused before a warlock with an opaque helmet.

He nodded. “That’s right, Ikora,” he said in a deep voice. “Been a while.”

Eris, standing at the lectern of divination and looking down at the objects on it, tilted her head.

Ikora nodded.

“Thank you, all of you, for your help out there. I don’t get to interact with you all individually very often, but it means a lot.”

All three stood straighter at this praise.

“Yes, yes, good job,” Immaru floated up from under the ritual table, slowly spinning his Hive chitin shell. “That’s what you neon nerds need to hear. Otherwise you might get too discouraged that Xivu is still alive and the Witness is going to unmake reality and crush us all like bugs.”

“Pay no attention to that osseous toad.�� Eris sounded tired. “He has no power here.”

Ikora sighed, shook her head, and transmitted away.

The two titans obtained their engrams from the ritual table, then bowed to Eris and left.

Only the warlock remained.

“So… Finch?” Eris asked, a wry smile on her lips.

The warlock handed her a bundle. When she took it her gloved fingers lingered against his.

“Yeah,” the deep voice said. “Finch hasn’t been around for a while. He’s been… busy… Elsewhere.”

“I see. And… Tom?”

“Tom’s sweeping the floor in the Annex,” the deep voice explained, “or at least, his ID tags are.”

“Hmmm…”

“Look at that.” Immaru rose up near Eris’ head. “Discount Hive god is getting presents. Think that’s gonna help you keep all your marbles? I dou-”

A rectangular jade coin impacted Immaru’s glowing centre with a loud “ding,” pushing Immaru back a short distance away from Eris. The warlock caught the coin as it ricocheted back into his hand.

“What the fu-”

Immaru’s rage-filled rant was interrupted again as another rectangular coin smacked into him hard.

This time the impact was stronger and the “ding” of the coin ringing out was even louder. Immaru was knocked back several feet.

The guardian in front of Eris caught the coin effortlessly on the rebound.

Eris smirked.

Finch, the warlock, undid the clasps at his neck and the helmet slid back to reveal the Drifter’s face.

“That’s funny,” the Drifter said in his own voice without the modulation that was built into the helmet, “I thought I heard somethin’ just now.” He looked directly at Immaru. “Probably just the wind.” He looked back at Eris with a wide grin and a sparkle in his eyes. “How you livin’, Three-Eyes? I missed your face.”

“Hey! You’re not allowed in he-”

Without breaking eye contact with Eris, the Drifter’s arm flicked to the side. The impact from the third coin was forceful enough to send Immaru spinning across the Athenaeum in a high arc over the ritual floor. He landed with a wet ‘thwack’ in the swamp muck on the other side. The coin, having bounced back into the Drifter’s hand, tumbled across his knuckles and disappeared. Echoes of the loud “ding” reverberated through the high ceiling of the Athenaeum alcove and the deep pit beside it.

Eris smiled warmly, holding the bundle he’d given her. “I’ve missed your face as well.”

Immaru attempted to float up from the ground but found he was stuck. The spikes on one curved section of his Hive shell were deeply embedded in the thick mud of the swamp. He growled and tugged, trying to free himself.

A single tone sounded beside him. A red light blinked. The portions of Immaru’s shell which weren’t stuck in the mud spun around and he flinched at the sight of the Drifter’s ghost with a yelp.

The Drifter’s ghost opened its shell, showing off all the misshapen welded bits from other ghosts that had been attached to it and then rushed toward Immaru.

“Get away from me you freak!” Immaru shouted at it.

“I’ve been thinking about your babysitting situation,” the Drifter said to Eris as they walked together toward the lectern of divination.

“Have you, now?”

“Yeah, there’s this thing people do when they have to look after animals and children and stuff. Very domestic so you’ve probably never heard of it. But it might be very useful for your situation right now.”

“Domestic. Interesting.”

“What are you doing? Have you no concept of personal space? Aaaahhh!” Immaru was shouting as the Drifter’s ghost brushed pieces of its shell against him.

“People with dogs and babies and shit? They do this thing where they get together and let their dogs, or babies, or whatever the fuck they’re lookin’ after, have what’s called a ‘play date.’ It’s an enrichment thing. Gives ‘em socialization. And it gives the people lookin’ after ‘em a bit of a chance to hang out together.”

Eris looked at him, confused, exhaustion apparent on her face. “I do not follow.”

The Drifter’s ghost emitted its single tone next to Immaru as the Hive ghost finally worked itself free of the mud. Immaru flew rapidly to hover near Eris, dripping and snarling.

“I figure you and I should get together and give Savathun’s ghost regular play dates with mine.”

“What?” Immaru shrieked, spinning around to face them both.

The Drifter grinned, continuing to ignore Immaru. “They do like each other so very much. At least… my ghost seems to.”

“You loathe your ghost,” Eris said with a wry smile.

The Drifter’s ghost hovered next to the rogue lightbearer’s shoulder and emitted its single tone, nodding at both him and Eris.

“What sick fucking joke… Ow!” The Drifter flicked another coin from his hand, knocking Immaru off the cliff at the edge of the Athenaeum and catching the coin on the rebound.

“There goes that wind again,” the Drifter said.

The air in the Athenaeum was completely still.

“Can’t think of a nicer ghost for mine to hang around with,” the Drifter continued. “Think of how well they’ll get along and… how much they will enjoy each other’s company.” His eyes glittered with malice as he said the word ‘enjoy.’ “Get them all… socialized. It’d be educational for them. Important to their… uh… personal growth.”

The Drifter’s ghost nodded again, its red light blinking.

Immaru floated back up from the abyss and turned his shell toward Eris. “You can’t do this to me. You can’t.”

Eris smiled mischievously and continued to stare into the Drifter’s sparkling eyes.

“Please. I’ll do anything. I’ll shut the fuck up. I’ll behave. Just don’t make me go on play dates with his ghost. Please!”

The Drifter ran his tongue along his bottom lip and snapped the fingers of his left hand, holding his palm out flat. His ghost obediently flew over to land in his hand. The Drifter’s fingers curled around it and he put it into his pocket.

“Fucking psyc-” The jade coin reappeared in the Drifter’s right hand. Immaru immediately fell silent.

“I keep hearin’ things. Must be that wind again. You’ve got a lot of wind here, Moondust, which reminds me.” The coin vanished into his hand. “I made you something.”

“Did you, now?” Eris looked up from the delicious looking sandwich she had uncovered at the table.

“I did.”

The Drifter pulled another, smaller, bundle out of a pocket in his warlock robes.

“I’ve had it for a while. Been waiting for the right time to give it to ya.”

Eris tilted her head, quizzically.

“Seen as you got so much wind here. I made you some wind chimes.”

Immaru moved closer but stayed behind Eris, keeping her between himself and the Drifter.

The Drifter reached into the small cloth bag and pulled out a dangling mobile. It made a hollow tinkling sound, melodic and pretty. He paused to untangle it, and then held it up, letting it hang off of one finger so both Eris and Immaru could see.

The Drifter took his other hand and ran his fingers through the strings. It made beautiful notes which echoed through the Athenaeum and off the rocks in the vaulted ceiling of the cave. The sound was not metallic. It was closer in tone to what one would expect from wood or bone, but not quite. Similar to something made from carved antler, perhaps.

All the little bits hanging down from the strings on the mobile were made from broken, carved Hive ghost shells.

Immaru trembled.

“Ain’t that cute?” the Drifter asked, slipping one arm around Eris’ waist and pulling her close while the chimes dangled off of the fingertips of his outstretched hand. “I did all the work myself. Gathered all the materials. You know, you don’t have to kill ‘em to get parts of ‘em. It’s impressive how much you can cut off and they’re still able to function.”

Eris smirked and leaned against him, resting her head against his shoulder. They both looked at Immaru together.

“Had to carve and chop each one of these to get the different notes,” he continued. “Hollowed ‘em out. Shaved off some bits. Cut through some others. I made myself a whole toolkit to be able to make you this. I’ve now got all the things I need to make art outta this… uh… particular medium. Whole set of sharp things with handles in different configurations. I can make any size hole you like, cut ‘em into any shape you might want. You should come over and I’ll show you some time. You can play with ‘em. Make your own art.” He grinned at her brushing his nose against hers.

Eris’ laugh was low and subdued, like it had slipped out of her unawares. The Drifter’s face lit up with glee. The last time he’d heard her laugh like that was when he’d joked about the Vanguard arguing over who might throw him off of the tower.

Immaru turned from Eris to the Drifter and back to Eris, shaking.

“Took me a while to get the tones spaced out nice so it like… harmonizes and shit,” the Drifter explained.

“Hmmm…” Eris smiled.

“But now, when the wind blows, you can have pretty music for ya while you work.”

“I see.”

“Cuz you know the wind.” He let his head rest on top of hers while he talked, still holding the chimes out on his finger so they dangled in front of Immaru. “Sometimes the wind seems like it might be saying discouraging things that aren’t true. And we can’t have that. We need all the help we can get. So this way, if you start hearing… unkind whispers on the wind, you can just let your chimes ring out with pretty music instead. All nice-like. Bringin’ positivity to your auras ‘n shit.”

Eris laughed silently.

The Drifter stepped away from her and took the wind chimes over to one of the wrought iron sconces. He carefully dangled it across one of the outcroppings so the twisted and broken shells could wave freely. He then ran his fingers through the chimes again and they tinkled softly.

“Ain’t that nice?” He turned back to her. “I think it’s nice. Soft and tinkley.”

“Hmmm…” Eris continued smiling.

“Anywho. You gotta get back to work and so do I.” He walked over and pulled her into a soft quick kiss.

“Love ya!” He walked backwards, smiling and waving as he transmatted away.

Eris watched him leave and then looked down to Immaru who looked back up at her, covered in mud, still shivering.

“F-fucking psycho,” Immaru stammered, pulling the pieces of his shell in toward himself.

Eris walked over to the chimes and ran her fingers through them. They tinkled very prettily. She smiled at Immaru and ran her fingers through them again.

#destiny 2 #writing #drifteris #the drifter #eris morn #the drifter/eris morn #drifter/eris #ao3 #fanfiction #imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese #kept confidence series #wind chimes #immaru must be bullied #immaru bullying #cs member writing

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jate-kara · 1 year

Note

*gentle yelling* Write something! If you need a prompt, maybe something fluffy or just soft in a fandom of your choice?

Tuesday felt like Tuesday. Which felt like Monday. Which felt like every other day before that. Sun rose. Sun set. The City carried on.

And Cayde watched it all from The Prison of Zavala.

"C'mon," Cayde groaned, draping himself across the back of the office chair he was supposed to be occupying. "Please tell me you’ve got something for me to do."

On the other side of his desk, Zavala was so immovable that he could give the sculptures in the courtyard a run for their money. Cayde waved a hand in front of him, just to test the theory. In the old days, he would have had to brace for a Titan Glare.

But now, just like every other time Cayde had spun in his chair, or rearranged the bookshelf, or paced with the very deliberate goal of actually wearing a hole in the floor, Zavala remained steadfast. All Cayde got for his efforts was a soft snort that might have passed for a laugh. Zavala's mouth twitched. Just barely. Possibly a smirk.

"Okay, that means I won this round." Cayde pulled his hand back and slumped down into his chair.

"I wasn't aware we were playing a game." Zavala, for the first time all morning, set aside his datapad. His tone betrayed no irritation or annoyance, though Cayde strained with every power he had to hear it. "However, if we were, I believe I would still be ahead, four to one."

It struck Cayde to silence. It wasn't like Zavala had never indulged his games before, or cracked the worst deadpan joke on the planet. But he, like most people, had a limit to his tolerance for interruptions, and more specifically, Cayde’s interruptions. He should have tossed him out on his ass two hours ago.

"All right, I give up," Cayde huffed. "Put me under constant surveillance if you have to. Have three fireteams tail me around the Tower. Just-"

"You'd lose them in the first five minutes."

"Not the point."

"That would defeat the entire purpose."

"The Young Wolf! Where's my favorite Guardian at? They've killed how many gods now? Sticking with me should be no problem."

"The Young Wolf has more important things to do."

Cayde slumped onto the desk and propped his chin on his arms. "And the Titan Vanguard doesn't?"

That unshakeable composure cracked, just a little. "You should continue reviewing the mission reports. You have a lot to catch up on."

Cayde was quiet for a beat. Zavala’s tone had been carefully pitched for a soft reproach, more like a gentle reminder. In fact, everything he’d said in the last three days had been said with that same gentle note. Not like it was unlike him; the big guy had a heart of gold. But three days was a long time to be stuck in the same room with anyone, let alone Cayde.

“Hey, Zavala,” Cayde started, pushing himself back upright. “You’re not keeping me here for surveillance, are you?”

Zavala arched an eyebrow. “Your reports,” he reminded, measured, but not quite even.

“Nah, I think I’ve read enough reports, thanks.”

Zavala met his gaze squarely. Cayde didn’t flinch. “You said it yourself: there’s no way to prove if I’m me or I’m a me the Witness made to act like me or - whatever. You’re not gonna learn anything keeping me locked up here. And I know you know that. And you know I know you know that.”

“Is there a point to this?”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna die if you let me wander around the Tower. Or - and brace yourself, this is a big one - go for a walk in the City.”

Cayde expected a denial or a dismissal. Not a sigh. Definitely not a half-hearted shrug. "I suppose you are correct," Zavala allowed. One of his hands curled into a fist.

"Also, Ikora just asks me if I want some tea or ramen when she wants me around. Or she just tells me. You should try that."

Zavala made a noise that was somewhere between a huff and a strangled laugh. "I'll take it into consideration."

Cayde shot to his feet. He got halfway to the door before Zavala spoke again, so soft he almost missed it: "Be careful."

"Hey, it's me."

"I know."

Ouch. Rude. Probably true. Cayde had the urge to press his hand to his heart, but spun around and marched back to the desk instead. He plucked Zavala’s communicator off the corner and dropped it unceremoniously into his hands. "Here. I'll check in every couple of hours."

"Since when do you follow protocols?"

"Since now. For now. We'll see how long it lasts." Cayde tossed off a salute. "See ya later, Commander."

It earned him half a smile, and that, Cayde decided, was the second win of the day

—--

#destiny #destiny 2 #cayde 6 #zavala #fic #destiny spoilers #my writing

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thewildnopeboat · 3 months

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(Tomorrow I will no longer tag stuff as Spoilers, I no longer care)

Guardian, watching Zavala go through the throws of grief again: Hey, at least you have Targe!

*Later, after the Targe Incident*

Guardian, watching Zavala come to terms with Mortality: uh... you still have me and Ikora?

#destiny 2 #destiny2 #bungie #destiny guardians #destiny zavala #that part made me fucking cry though #i make jokes and light on that but fuck man #that sucked to go through #death of loved ones is nothing short of mindbreaking #if you actually need help #please go see someone #you dont have to go through greif alone #please seek help

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demiclar · 9 months

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Tithing Pains

Destcember Prompt 21 - Tithing Pains

Drifter takes care of Eris after a difficult transformation.

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The pavilion seemed to yawn around Drifter as he hurried into it, up the winding path shadowed by Hive stone and hewn rock, he entered the cavernous space and felt a familiar prickle of unease settle into his bones. It was like standing in the middle of an open meadow surrounded on all sides by dense forest, like he was being watched by a predator he couldn’t see, lurking in the shadows, ready to pounce. He kept his eyes forward.

At the summoning circle in the center of the pavilion, he could make out Eris’ runes fading out of sight. Hive magic dissipated into the air with an acid tinge that burned Drifter’s nose and lifted the hair on the back of his neck, unease tightening in his shoulders. At the edge of the circle, Ikora looked back at him, his footsteps echoing through the chamber, but she spared him only a glance before she pushed ahead, rushing to the center of the circle where Eris knelt.

She was bare from the waist up, covered in Hive oil and the ripped remnants of her armor. Her back was to Drifter, her skin marred by old scars that had long since become familiar to him. Even in the distance between them he could see how she shook, her breath heaving, her body trembling. Ikora dropped to her knees in front of her, her hand finding Eris’s shoulder. The Drifter could see her lips move, but he couldn’t make out her words. He watched Eris jerk, bowing low over her knees, one hand braced on the stone floor and the other splayed over her chest.

Drifter stopped at the edge of the circle, wheeling to face the other figure present, Immaru hovering at the edge of the ritual circle, watching Eris with scorn. The cold assessment in his eye made an ancient instinct in the Drifter’s mind begin to roar at the perceived threat.

“Get out.” He snapped, and when the Ghost’s shell lifted like he was going to respond, Drifter snarled, Stasis rallying to his fingertips so cold it burned. “I won’t say it twice.”

Immaru glanced between Drifter and Eris, still in the center of the circle. Drifter took a threatening step forward, and the Ghost flitted back, then he left without a word. Drifter hurried into the circle.

Eris’s hand had shifted to grip Ikora’s forearm, so tight her knuckles shone white against her skin, her brow pressed to the cavern floor as she shook, coughs and rattling gasps shaking through her. Her other hand was pressed to the cavern floor, her fingers trembling. Drifter eased himself down to his knees before her, laying his fingers over hers gently.

“Hey, Moondust.” He breathed, his gaze flitting over her. So close, he could see the goosebumps that had risen all over her skin. Hive magic tended to burn hot, the ritual fires in their bowls around the circle put off some heat, but Drifter could already feel the cold from the stone seeping through the layers of his armor, the heat from Eris’s magic already slipping away.

He watched her draw in a sudden deep breath, her head lifting from the cavern floor. Hive eyes blinked at him, half covered by her dark curls. She placed her hands underneath her shoulders and pushed herself upright, her arms almost straight before she coughed hard and wet, doubling forward once more. He set a hand on her back as one cough turned into a fit, each one weaker than the last, her exhaustion clear when she finally dropped her brow to the stone and struggled down deep breaths.

He sensed more than heard the quiet whoosh of his Ghost appearing beside him, their intentions reaching him through the link between them Drifter so often kept shut and barred. His glare was steely when the Ghost lifted its eye off of Eris to meet his gaze, and it shrunk back.

“Ikora,” he nodded to the Warlock, her Ghost already at her side. His lack of trust for his own Traveler-dictated partner didn’t mean he didn’t want Eris looked after, and he watched Ikora share a look with her Ghost before he drifted forward, dropping low to hover eye-level with Eris.

“Eris?” Ophichus asked, his shell tilting to meet her gaze as Eris lifted her head just slightly. “Could I scan you? We want to make sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine.” She grit out, but still she gave the Ghost a nod as she pushed herself upright on trembling arms. She held still as his beam of light swept over her, Hive eyes shifting shut against the light when it reached her face. Drifter watched her let out her breath in a sigh once the Ghost was done. With her torso still bare, he could see the way her muscles flexed as she began to move and he squeezed her shoulder.

“Don’t get up.” He told her gently, from how she was still shaking, he knew it wouldn’t end well. Ikora’s hand shifted, dropping down Eris’s arm until she was laying her fingers over Eris’s on the cavern floor. Drifter reached up, his hand cupping her cheek, and he watched the hard chitin pieces around Eris’s eyes shift as she closed her eyes, leaning her cheek into Drifter’s touch. “Just breathe for a minute, Moondust. I’ve got you.”

Eris’s breath sighed out of her again and Drifter held on until a shiver rattled her frame, pulling back to reach for his robes. He stripped his gauntlets and the armored plates at his shoulders with practiced ease, slipping the gun from his belt and undoing the buckle, settling it all aside so that he could draw the robe off his shoulders.

“Germaine–” Eris shook her head at him, her hand held up to show the oily Hive blood covering her skin, but Drifter just smiled as he draped the robe over her shoulders, drawing it around her.

“Don’t worry about it, Moondust.” His hands found her shoulders again as Eris reached up to hold the front of the robes, closing them at her chest. “You know I’ve seen worse.”

“And I’m loath to contribute.” She replied, her voice low and weak. Drifter’s soft smile left his face as her eyes closed again, her head dropping as she braced both hands on the stone floor again, her arms trembling.

“You need rest, Eris.” Ikora reached out to hold her friend’s shoulder, and Drifter nodded. The Warlock had been getting on Eris’s case more than he had since this whole ordeal had begun, he trusted Eris to know her limits and her own capabilities, but he also understood how relentless she could be in pursuit of a goal.

“She’s right, Eris.” He said, his smile returning weakly when Eris aimed a glare at him. “We’ve all gotta rest sometime.” He reminded her, reaching out to guide a lock of her hair away from where it covered her center eye. “Call it a day, Moondust. You can go back to bein’ a Hive god tomorrow.”

Drifter could practically feel Eris’s irritation radiating off of her, but he reached out to hold the back of her neck, running his thumb over the corner of her jaw even as it left Hive oil on his fingers.

“I told you I’d be here.”

“I’m not done, Germaine.” She told him, but he held her gaze until she let out her breath in a slow sigh. “Fine. But I will be back.”

Drifter sent her a grin. “Oh, I’m countin’ on it, Moondust.”

The HELM was thankfully empty when Eris and Drifter entered, not a soul in the common areas as Drifter moved through them, Eris light in his arms. He’d picked her up after she’d stumbled rising from the circle, not a move he’d have made if anyone more than Ikora had been around to see, but from the way Eris was already leaning into him, her head resting against his neck and shoulder, he suspected he’d made the right choice.

The lights were dim to their reserve setting, soft red light in the hallways to offer Drifter something to see by without disturbing the crew trying to rest. He headed straight for the officers quarters, where Eris had been assigned a room, along with the Guardian and Crow. From the hallway, he could make out a soft yellow light from one of the rooms. Through the open door, he could see the Guardian, curled under a blanket pulled up to their ears, their eyes shut. He looked back to the hall at the sound of footsteps, Crow slipping down the hall, a glass of water in his hand.

“Hey,” the Hunter greeted quietly, his eyes drifting over Eris in Drifter’s arms. “Is everything okay?”

“Long day.” Drifter said simply. Eris didn’t shift a muscle in Drifter’s arms. He couldn’t help but wonder if she’d fallen asleep. He nodded towards the Guardian, asleep in bed with a light on and their door open. “You too?”

“Yeah.” Crow followed his gaze, then shook his head as if clearing his thoughts. “They’re fine, just tired, really.” He set the glass of water on a desk just beyond the Guardian’s door, returning to the doorway as soon as it was out of his hand. “Y’know, Eris’s room is–” he pointed behind Drifter, to a door he’d already passed, but Drifter shook his head.

“I know.” He’d thought the Hunter would’ve seen him aboard the HELM enough times to get that he’d stayed the night in Eris’s room more than once. “Not goin’ there yet.”

He made to turn down the hall again, but Crow spoke up before he could.

“Do you need any help?” Crow asked, color darkening on his cheeks when Drifter regarded him with an unimpressed look. “Hunters, we look after our own–”

“I think I’ve got it.” He headed down the hall, not at all surprised when Crow slipped past him, reaching the door to the communal bathrooms before Drifter could and pushing it open. “Thanks.”

“Let me get the lights.” Crow slipped inside, flipping both switches on the wall as Drifter headed for the counter. Eris made a small noise in his arms, her body tensing as she hid her face in Drifter’s neck.

“Maybe just half of ‘em.” He suggested to the Hunter, Crow quickly complying. Drifter pressed his cheek to the top of Eris’s head, reaching a hand up to shield her eyes. “Sorry, Moondust. I know your eyes are better than mine.”

Crow lingered in the doorway when Drifter set Eris down to sit on the counter. Through the mirror in front of him, Drifter could see the Hunter shifting from foot to foot.

“Are you sure she’s–” he broke off, and when Drifter looked back, away from Crow’s reflection, Eris had lifted her head, meeting Crow’s gaze with acolyte’s eyes.

“I’m alright, Crow.” Drifter could hear her exhaustion in her tone, but he watched Crow’s shoulders drop as he let out a relieved sigh of breath, giving Eris a small nod. Eris straightened when he wouldn’t meet her gaze. “My apologies, I’ve forgotten my veil. Does this upset you?” She gestured towards her eyes and Crow’s head jerked up.

“What? No. No, not at all. I just–” Drifter rolled his eyes when the Hunter began to fidget again, a small smile creasing his lips when Eris slapped his arm.

“I just feel like I’m not doing enough.” Crow said, meeting Eris’s eyes at last. “You and the Guardian are out there, dealing with Immaru and gathering tithes, you’re doing these crazy transformations and I’m just…here, writing reports or scouting. I should be helping you.”

“Your work is not insignificant, Crow.” Eris reminded him. Drifter set his hand on her knee, giving it a brief squeeze before he stepped back, retreating from Eris to allow her and Crow to speak while he headed for a set of shelves built into the wall of the bathroom, retrieving a set of towels and washcloths.

“Still,” he could hear Eris continue behind him, Crow’s footsteps soft as he made his way further into the room. “I understand your desire to be closer to the fight. I promise that I’ll call for you when the time comes.”

Crow’s words softened further and Drifter found his way to the showers in the back of the space. He deposited the towels on a nearby bench, then slipped from the room. When he returned from Eris’s room a minute later, a set of her clothes in his hands, he saw Crow give her a nod before he left the room, and Drifter patted his shoulder as he passed.

“Look after our hero, yeah? We’re gonna need ‘em.” They shared a look back towards Eris, and Crow nodded.

“Yeah. I’ll make sure they’re taken care of.”

Drifter clapped his shoulder in thanks, and he and Crow parted ways in the corridor. Drifter met Eris at the counter, setting her clothes aside to offer her a hand as she eased herself down to the floor on shaky legs.

“Germaine.” She sent him a weak glare and Drifter had to bite his lip to contain his smile.

“Sorry, Moondust. I know you can take care of yourself.” Still, he couldn’t quite pull his offered hand away, and he smiled when Eris took it once she was standing on the bathroom floor, her other hand still holding his robes closed at her chest. He lowered his head towards hers when she looked up at him, feeling his smile soften. “Been a long time since I let anyone in like this.” He murmured. “Guess some part of me is trying to make up for lost time.”

“Vengeance is not a suitable motivator for all of one’s endeavors.” Eris acknowledged, her voice low. She leaned her head into Drifter’s shoulder, stepping forward until her weight was leaned forward, into his chest. His arms came around her naturally. He pressed his nose into her curls, breathing in what he expected to be the familiar scent of her hair only to choke on a cough when the smell of Hive blood flooded his nostrils.

“Sorry,” he rasped when Eris pulled back, covering his mouth and nose with a hand as he fought back another cough. “I just wasn’t expectin—”

“Quiet.” Eris told him. She took him by the hand again and Drifter followed her to the showers.

“You want help, or–?”

“Quiet, Germaine.”

The showers were split between one row of little booths, with curtains and dividers between each shower, and another row of shower heads, exposed along the wall. Drifter could see the utility in both, with large crews, one often couldn’t afford the luxury of privacy in all of one’s movements, but it wasn’t like anyone wanted to catch a glimpse of their commander in the nude. Well, maybe some might.

Eris pulled him towards the exposed row, rather than try to cram the two of them into one of the booths. They’d done it before, when it wasn’t the middle of the night and Drifter wasn’t keen on anyone walking in and seeing him buck naked and kissing Eris like a lovesick fool, but Drifter doubted anyone was likely to come in now, even someone as nosy as Crow. He’d set the towels nearby, on a bench that ran along the outside wall of the first shower stall, and Eris let go of his hand, shrugging his robes off her shoulders and reaching down to untie her armor from where it had settled around her waist after her Hive transformation had torn through it. He turned on two of the showerheads, staying clear of them so that they could pour out the cold water lingering in the pipes, then planted himself on the bench, looking up at Eris with a lazy smile.

“You could do more than just watch, you know.” She told him, shelling off the last of her clothes. He tugged off his gloves, then reached up to hold her waist. Opening his legs wide, he guided her to stand between his knees, still smiling up at her.

“I love to watch you.” He ran his thumbs over her hip bones. “You really are a sight to see, Moondust.”

“Even like this?” She looked down at him and he shrugged, his smile knowing. Even now, he couldn’t stop staring at her. She was covered in Hive blood, her skin pale from the cold, red lines of irritation over her skin from the places her armor had torn against her shifting form. Her scars were sharp against her skin and still she was the most beautiful person Drifter had ever looked at, maybe because of it all.

“Oh yeah,” he murmured, unable to bite back his smile. “You always look fantastic, this doesn’t change anything.”

She shook her head, fondly, exasperatedly. He wasn’t sure she could roll her Hive eyes the way a human’s eyes would, but the expression was close and Drifter grinned. She reached for the hem of his shirt, tugging it off him.

“Come on, Germaine.” She said, pulling him to his feet after she tossed his shirt aside. “Don’t make me tell you twice.”

She headed for the showers without another word and Drifter hurried to shell off the rest of his clothes, pausing only long enough to watch her step under the spray before he climbed to his feet to join her.

She met him under the heat of the water, the pair of them luxuriating in the feel of it for a long moment. Eventually, Drifter moved Eris so that her head was out of the water and he rubbed shampoo through her dark curls, taking care to wash away all the Hive blood until her hair was soft and clean all over her head. He washed away the rest of the blood, feeling Eris go boneless in his hands, her exhaustion creeping up on her once again. He nudged her back when she reached up to reciprocate.

“Go dry off.” He told her gently, dropping a kiss onto her cheekbone. “I’ll be right there. Promise.”

She slipped from the shower and Drifter followed her only a few minutes later. Once they were clean and dry, and they’d found their way back to Eris’s room, they sank into her bed pressed close to one another. Eris tucked herself under Drifter’s chin, drawing his warmth into her body, and Drifter was happy to supply it. He fell asleep holding Eris close, lulled to sleep knowing she was safe from harm.

#destcember2023 #destiny 2 #destiny drifter #destiny eris #Destiny Eris Morn #demiwrites #drifteris #destiny the drifter #drifter/eris

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