#hey ikora

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Hey Ikora

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

VANNET PERSONAL VANTOWGUESTACC/ 6cc842de4888f9899a1f0e9ed97c2efa >> VANCINCLOCK IKORA REY

Hey Ikora,

Three-Eyes says hi. We're going on a scavenger hunt for weird Darkness bullshit and Vanguard's not invited. Back in like a week. Don't freak out.

No salutation entered, “VIP #1315”

.

VANNET PERSONAL REMOTEACCESS/VANTOWGUESTACC/ 6cc842de4888f9899a1f0e9ed97c2efa >> VANCINCLOCK IKORA REY

Hey Ikora,

Apparently we've been workin for you the whole time and she only just told me. My bad. I didn't ask. Anyway, she's left a package for you. Says to send a field agent to come get it. Coordinates attached. Don't send Aunor. We don't like her.

Transmat firing, D

.

VANNET PERSONAL REMOTEACCESS/VANTOWGUESTACC/ 6cc842de4888f9899a1f0e9ed97c2efa >> VANCINCLOCK IKORA REY

Hey Ikora,

You're gonna love this. Did you know there was a small Shadow Legion outpost buried in one of the rings of Saturn? We didn't neither. Fixed that for ya. Might wanna send someone to come clean it up though. We made a mess.

Have fun! Nony Mouse

.

VANNET PERSONAL REMOTEACCESS/VANTOWGUESTACC/ 6cc842de4888f9899a1f0e9ed97c2efa >> VANCINCLOCK IKORA REY

Hey Ikora,

I'm typing this out exactly as she's sayin' it cuz I dunno what in the hell it means:

There is a lay line disturbance which is generating concretions of Darkness energy in the sediment which in turn are creating environmental hazards on the surface of Ganymede.

I think she wants you to send some Guardians to come and shoot it.

Toodles! Deeznutz

.

VANNET PERSONAL REMOTEACCESS/VANTOWGUESTACC/ 6cc842de4888f9899a1f0e9ed97c2efa >> VANCINCLOCK IKORA REY

Hey Ikora,

You've known Moondust for longer than me. If someone wanted to get her something special that'd make her super happy, you got any suggestions? I said something hilarious and she did not agree with how funny it was. She's real pissed at me and I do love making her mad, but not this mad, ya know? Help a fella out?

Transmat firing, D

.

VANNET PERSONAL REMOTEACCESS/VANTOWGUESTACC/ 6cc842de4888f9899a1f0e9ed97c2efa >> VANCINCLOCK IKORA REY

Hey Ikora,

Heard some of your spies went places they shouldn't of and now there's a mess in the Annex. You could'a just asked. Get Aunor to clean it up with a toothbrush or something and we'll call it even.

Later, N. O. Buddy

.

VANNET PERSONAL REMOTEACCESS/VANTOWGUESTACC/ 6cc842de4888f9899a1f0e9ed97c2efa >> VANCINCLOCK IKORA REY

Hey Ikora,

Eris says: The sedge is withered from the lake and no birds sing. Hope you know what that means cuz I sure as hell don't.

Ciao, Noman

.

VANNET PERSONAL REMOTEACCESS/VANTOWGUESTACC/ 6cc842de4888f9899a1f0e9ed97c2efa >> VANCINCLOCK IKORA REY

Hey Ikora,

Want anything from Neomuna while we're out here? Nimbus says hi. Osiris said something too but I stopped listening after he started using words like "weft" and "transmutation." Also Three-Eyes don't hate me no more. Thanks for the help.

Catch you soon, D

.

VANNET PERSONAL VANTOWGUESTACC/ 6cc842de4888f9899a1f0e9ed97c2efa >> VANCINCLOCK IKORA REY

Hey Ikora,

Was quarantining the Annex really necessary? I already got past all those locks and shit your people put up but I need to run a business here. I left your Biohazard, Restricted Access, and No Entry signs in a pile under the stairs.

Transmat firing, 1315 in da house

[nightmarefuele]

Esk inne.

It.

Feyd-Rautha tongues his incisors on the idea of being reduced.

He would follow the voyeur: he lifts his naked knee to begin the pursuit, flexors rolling already through the arousal of the hunt—except that this great, stinking throat beats for him. Chants like the rings of home. Layers and layers of bleached white bone on Giedi sing with wilder voices than this. Uncle has amassed such lovely lickspittles.

But prettyyy; those beetle eyes in the brutal shell of his face gloss over appetite-heavy;

The black metal stench bears him a woman.

An unholy vibration in his throat. With it he's left women on Giedi crying.

na-Baron's shoulders roll the same way her creature sinew speaks; the roof of his mouth wets the floor; his eyes go dripping down the height of a beast in the cage of breasts, a breastbone. He almost laughs. The rustle of stone under his shifting feet—no closer, just near, just teasing—does it for him. He answers a thick impulse to lift his new gift and cup it in his hand.

The tooth smears his palm like grease paint. Feyd-Rautha stands so very still. His arm then slouches, the tooth dripping, while his second presents its ink.

His fingers tickle the open air, giving the blood a shine.

Tell him tell him tell him.

"Vorhal drameino? Esk inne gravadeot? Esk inne drokani?"

The dark's creatures beg of them all and what hands remain begin to beat. Banging. Bashing against the caves throat in a thunderous drumroll of a calling. Even the fingers, once severed, crawl to life, inching like worms of the forest to rejoin the hands they have been parted from.

"Is it one of us? Does it belong?" She finally says.

Fingertips continue to glow like dappled stars of an envious sky, hidden beneath mothers womb. Within. They bash and bash and bash until they cannot take the beating anymore but must continue on anyway. The air is tainted with the ichor of spilled blood. Blackened. They mash, mash, beatings weaker until they have abandoned what strength is left and sit broken and bloodied on the cave floor. Bone melds with blood. It all smells the same. The beating is no more.

Something monstrous has awakened in its wake. It shakes even the strongest stillness interwoven into Maura's being. A glance into the depths behind Feyd and she steps back, speaking with urgency now. "It must fight. It must live. It's birth has begun."

She disappears into the dark as if rejoining her true form. Even the hands find what little strength of self mutilation remains to drag themselves into the dark with her. All that remains is noise. Clicking. Razor sharp on stone, but what shows itself is soft and holy and not been seen in years.

A woman. She appears from the depths, flirting the shadows edges, the back of her hidden but the front is white and bare and glowing with ethereal luminescence. She is almost holy. Almost. Her hand reaches for him, but her eyes are straight again. Unfocused.

Dead.

[flowers-of-io]

Cayde: Hey, do you think I could fit fifteen carrots in my mouth?

Ikora: You’re a hazard to society.

Shaxx: And a coward. Do twenty.

[i-hug-exploder-shanks]

Request: The Guardian has a slight breakdown shortly before the final battle of TFS so Crow and Cayde help them prepare.

Thank you for the request! I had a long rough day but knowing someone wanted to read something I wrote helped make it a little better!

The Young Wolf paced along the perimeter of the camp thoughts racing and twisting and falling over themselves as they tried to prepare themselves for what was coming. After all they had already killed gods before right? What was some merged consciousness with an obsession with triangles compared to them? Beside powerful beyond understanding, giant and able to swat them like a fly with one of its thousands of giant hands? If it could do all this to the Traveler what was one Guardian? Even if they were The Guardian? Everyone was looking at them to fix this, just like they fixed everything else.

"Hey Kiddo? You doing alright there?" Cayde's voice broke through and building panic and the Young Wolf shook their head words once again failing them.

"I see... Well I was about to teach Crow the proper way to make s'mores. Why don't you join us? You look like you need the chocolate and ooey gooey marshmallows even more than I do." He said gently grabbing onto their arm and the Young Wolf let him drag them over to where Crow was glaring at a bag of gummy worms with a look normally saved for the likes of Savathun or the hive.

"Damn, what did the gummies do to piss you off?" Cayde asked snatching the bag before Crow decided to act on his feelings and set them ablaze.

"Why are they here Cayde? We're making s'mores." Crow said pointedly and Cayde grinned shaking the bag.

"Haven't you ever tried to live life creatively my finely plumaged friend? Chocolate and gummies are great together! Why not add them to a s'more! Guardian back me up on this!" Cayde said and the Young Wolf took the open seat and shrugged.

"See! Even they know it's weird. He's just trying to trick me into doing things the wrong way so everyone will laugh at me." Crow complained and the two of them bickering caused a smile to twitch up their lips.

At least this came out of the whole mess. Cayde and Crow becoming friends meant the world to them.

"I don't think I can do it." The Guardian murmured interrupting the argument that was still going.

"Do what? Roast a marshmallow? You never roasted marshmallows before?! Guardian, I assure you that taking your 'mellow roasting virginity is a great hon-" Cayde started until Crow punched him in the arm gesturing the Guardian that was now crying while staring at them both.

"Okay, okay... I get it. You have the universe on your shoulders but you're not alone. You got me and Crow and Ikora, Zavala, hell you even have the Fallen and Cabal on our side now for this! Kiddo, we're all going to be right there with you the whole time. This isn't the dreadnought where I was stupid and sent you in alone, though you kicked ass and succeeded there too might I remind you." Cayde said and Crow nodded.

"We're all in this together and that's why we're going to win. The Witness? It's trying to perfect everything but... Perfection is not only boring, it's weak. So... Put some gummy worms on yoyr s'more and be a little less than perfect over here with us. Then tomorrow we'll all finish this, together." He said and Cayde cheered while the Young Wolf snorted though they did feel better.

[erisxdrifter]

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. 

[caydesaceinthehole]

Hey Cayde if Ikora comes looking for me you never saw me okay?

I may or may not have done something stupid playing with my light and may or may not have exploded a few people.

...I don't wanna know.

You're a Warlock,so it's not my responsibility to keep track of you.

I've never been so grateful to be in charge of Hunters in my life.

[phantomwarrior12]

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

[speaker-of-the-void-cats]

"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?]*

©0RrUptIôN.*

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

[telestoapologist]

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...

[the-light-finds-its-way]

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!!!"

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

Destinytober24: Day 27 - Unlikely Allies

Link to Ao3 if you prefer to read it there

- One -

"Drifter."

"Hey, Rayray! Not used to you callin'. And on one of my secure channels too. Huh. I'll have to change that later. What can I do ya for?"

"Is Eris with you?"

"Well, that's a loaded question with a lot of implications. Let's just put aside why you might think she's here and get to what you'd need her for if she hypothetically was."

"There's a large disturbance in the Hellmouth and she is not answering her comms. If she's not with you, she's there and-"

"She's here. She's safe. I'll go wake her up. Gimme a bit though. Gotta be gentle so I don't get stabbed."

- Two -

"Drifter. What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same, Warlock Vanguard spymaster scary lady, but I'm pretty sure we're both here for the same person. Your reasons are probably more official than mine, though, so you go first."

"That's unusually charitable of you."

"Charity ain't got nothin' to do with it. If it's somethin' important and I delay it she'll get mad-mad. And while she is super cute when she's a little mad, when she's actually pissed off it is fuckin' terrifyin' so by all means, after you."

- Three -

"Hey hey! Moondust. Spy lady."

"Germaine," Eris turned away from the table she and Ikora were working on to face him. "We will be but a few more moments."

"All good." He leaned back against the wall next to the door and pulled out a jade coin. "I can wait."

"The problem is getting inside the complex." Ikora pointed down at the diagram.

Eris leaned over the table so that her Ahamkara bone was illuminating where Ikora's finger was pointing. "We can ask Crow to send in a competent Hunter for infiltration."

"He already has." Ikora said, concern in her voice. "They did not return."

Eris nodded solemnly. "I see. A frontal assault will be more dangerous and will require considerable time to hack the electronic security…"

"Ok this ain't my business," the Drifter stepped forward with his arms out in what he hoped was a disarming gesture, "but I can see what you're lookin' at and what you really need is a key to that lock and then you can walk on in and go hard and fast. They won't know what hit 'em."

"If we had keys to this lock we would not be having this discussion." Eris glared at him.

"Do you uh…" He looked from Eris to Ikora and then back to Eris. "Want one?"

"What?" Ikora looked up from the map.

"Hmmm… Infiltration…" Eris turned to look at Ikora. "It is one of his areas of expertise…" She turned back to the Drifter. "A pity you do not work for the Hidden or the Vanguard."

"Oh I don't. But… if the Bane of the Swarm wants a thing, she has an associate who has been… useful in the past for gettin' her… things, right?"

"Yes. He has."

"And maybe if you wrap this one up quick you can get uh.. some… extra vacation time?" He looked over at Ikora with an eyebrow raised and a Cheshire grin.

Ikora frowned at him. "How?"

"Oh, Rayray…" His eyes sparkled with amusement. "You absolutely do not want to know. Trust. But uh…" He reached out and took Eris' hand with a light touch. "Gimme two hours," he said gently, gazing into her three eyes. "I'll get your key."

Ikora stared at him in disbelief, her eyebrows high.

Eris' lips formed a small smile as she held his hand, brushing one of her fingers along one of his. "Hmmm… very well."

The Drifter gave Eris' hand a squeeze. Then he winked at her and transmatted away.

Eris turned back to Ikora.

"What is he going to do?" Ikora asked.

"I have no idea but I highly doubt it would be anything resembling legal… It likely involves interactions with unsavoury characters… and may possibly include war crimes…"

"If he compromises this operation…"

"He will not."

"How can you be sure?"

"It would… disappoint me." She turned away from Ikora and cradled her orb gently in both hands. "He is… attempting to impress me."

Ikora sighed, her hands on table, looking away.

"…and you," Eris continued. "But mostly me… and I will admit he is … succeeding."

"If he can get us in it will probably save more lives than he costs."

"Yes and… he has an interesting sense of morality but… he does have one… it is unlikely he will do anything too terrible… "

"I don't trust him."

"I know. You shouldn't. But you do trust me. And he would never do anything to damage that."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because, as was previously noted, he is not doing it for the Vanguard or the Hidden. He is doing it for me."

- Four -

"Knock knock! Ooooh! Rayray, if looks could kill I would absolutely be dead from that one."

"Why are you here, Drifter… in a secured Hidden location… having bypassed my security… again?"

"I needed to talk to you."

"You couldn't leave a message?"

"I left four."

"I see. It has been a busy night. I take it this is urgent?"

"Uh yup."

"Wait… does it have to do with Eris?"

"Uh yup."

"Where is she?"

"I dunno. That's the problem. Do you know?"

"No."

"That's a bigger problem."

"When did you last see her?"

"This mornin'. She said she had shit to do on the Moon. Didn't show up for dinner. Comms dead last six hours. If she was doin' shit for you I didn't wanna go in guns blazin'. But, since she ain't, guns blazin' it is."

"Wait."

"What?"

"I'm coming with you."

Link to the entire month's worth of prompts on Ao3, posted daily.

[a-driftamongopenstars]

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. 

[jate-kara]

*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

—--

[thewildnopeboat]

(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?

[demiclar]

Tithing Pains

Destcember Prompt 21 - Tithing Pains

Drifter takes care of Eris after a difficult transformation.

------

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.

[caydesaceinthehole]

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?