#lord shaxx writing

[cats-and-fiction]

Not with reader but something I wrote with my Guardian Elenor. Guess I‘ll just start posting anything I write here now but don‘t worry, I will also still write Reader and Headcanon things. Just gonna add Oc stuff now too

Walking like a child taking it's first steps Elenor gripped to the railing of the ice rink with a firce grip only her enemies ever felt. maybe even Shaxx if he did make her angry but now none of this was the case since she was walking down the isle besides the ice rink on shaky legs. She had never worn ice skates and walking on them was horrible. Shaxx was already on the ice, very slowly following her to the entrance. Watching him it felt so effortlessly. So easy. He didn't even look like he was trying to stay upright unlike her. Maybe the idea of ice skating wasn't the thing making her nervous but rather the idea of failing on embarassing not only herself but also Shaxx. Though with his helmet on she could hardly see what his face looked like. Probably amused.

Finally at the entrance Elenor slowly and carefully put one foot on the ice though underestimated how slippery it was and almost made a split as her foot was slipping forward. Quickly Shaxx had been holding her upright and just pulled her onto the ice. She probably weighted nothing to this brute of a man. Her legs looked wobbly. knees pressed together and her body stiff as she tried to find her balance. Though when she very slowly slid backwards her hands gripped Shaxxs' arms as to not move further away from him.

The Awoken could hear an amused noise from him. "Don't laugh", she pouted, only looking up for a second at the emotionless helmet that looked down onto her, before she used all her attention back to looking down on the eyes as if it was the only thing making sure she wouldn't fall. "You faced gods and killed the Travleres most heinous enemies, yet Ice is what makes you nervous?", the Titan asked her amused and held his hands up to make sure to catch her if she would end up falling.

Around them on the ICe rink a few Guardians and Civilians did their rounds. Laughing and talking with either their friends or their sweetheart and nobody was really taking a look at the two. maybe a few first curious looks to see the hulking statue of *the* Lord Shaxx here but quickly most of the people decided to bother with their own things again. Knowing that the person with him wasn't really keen on attention. Luckily the Ice Rink they visited was around a area were people were accustomed to the two and knew Elenor well.

Still this didn't stop her from believing all eyes were on ehr and as soon as she did something wrong that everybody would laugh, especially Shaxx. Somebody who would never really laugh at her. Still, Elenor was an overthinker. A thing costing her live multiple times in the past.

"Anyway, despite my godslaying nature. Ice Skating isn't really a talent of mine.", she said while slowly letting go of Shaxx who in one swift move was besides her. "I saw you do more difficult things than ice skating", he meant in an amused tone only earning a scoff from her. "Like the time you saw me trying to trink the Vex Milk?", Elenor shook her head at the memory on that day. She felt very awkward and emberassed after that. "You know we can do something else too.", Shaxx now offered after a few meters and Elenor very slowly getting used to skating and if she was honest, it wasn't all too bad. She had tried more difficult things. Like trying to knit. "No, this is fine. I said we should try something different for once and this is a good opportunity. At least here no idiot Hunter is throwing snowballs at you,", Elenor immidiatly said out. The Awoken pushed herself off of the Titan and slowly picked up the pace now getting even more used to the feeling of the skates and sliding over the ice. "See? I just needed some time. It's just like gliding", Elenor boasted with proudness in her voice though she didn't dare to look over her shoulder as to not disrupt her precious balance.

[thefirstknife]

Got the first two little grimoires that you can collect in the Hall of Champions. It's a lore book called "To Old Friends." First two pages:

Feelings about these old Titan dads. Man.

Hello. Sav writing to Eris?

[braindamagedrizz]

I don't think Shaxx likes Your Mom jokes

[phantomwarrior12]

WIP Wednesday - A Worrier's Pursuit

Her Titan came for her, just as he's always promised. To be there when she truly needs him beyond the Tower.

“You look a mess,” the Warlord murmurs as he kneels down beside her. His hand lifts, brushing his knuckles along the side of her helmet, “Do away with this, Little Hunter. Let me see–”

Her helmet vanishes in a transmat before he can finish his sentence and he is met with exhausted, agonized eyes. She tries to smile, she really does. But she can feel the Light radiating from the cracks in Ghost’s shell, she can feel the subtle tremor of pain he's feeling - there is no smiling for the Young Wolf.

She's so worried about her companion even if the love of her life is gazing down at her.

“Oh, Guardian,” he murmurs, strong arms gathering her up as he shifts to sit against the crate. She curls into him as her Ghost snuggles into her neck.

A haven, at long last. 

His touch soothes the tremors of her heart, quiets the racing of her mind. She finds a calm beneath the gentle Arc currents beneath her. She finds refuge in the soothing massage along her back and legs.

Being draped over the Crucible Handler does wonders for one's comfort. She feels less weighed down. Less drained. Sleep pulls at her but it is not the sort of desperation but the sort of comfort and familiarity.

Shaxx relaxes her in a way none ever could.

“How bad is it?” 

His voice rumbles beneath her head and there is a hitch in her breathing. She can offer no words but gently scoops her Ghost and shows him to the Warlord.

“...and you?”

She looks up at him as she replaces Ghost.

Worse.

Her confidence that they can win is shaken. She will fight until her last breath and then some even if it is all for naught.

But she is shaken.

---

[stoshasaurus]

right. I need to add some fucking context to this.

My current pfp in one of my discord servers is one of my recent drawings of Felwinter. I was talking about my desire to go out and get donuts this morning, particularly a banana Bismarck (basically a banana-flavored Boston cream donut, if you asked me to sum it up) from this local donut shop. I expressed that I enjoy having characters as my pfp because I imagine that they are saying my words, and it made me wonder how Felwinter would feel about donuts for breakfast, and banana bismarcks. I promised that once I had returned from my expedition to acquire said donuts, that I would write a short snippet about Felwinter eating a banana Bismarck.

So, here it is. An extremely silly, probably HIGHLY inaccurate mini-fic about Shaxx bringing Felwinter donuts for breakfast.

Disgustingly sweet (both literally and figuratively) Felshaxx fluff ahead.

Felwinter only finds himself sleeping in when he is visiting Shaxx. The Iron Lord never sleeps at all; he doesn’t need to, and there is always work to be done. He often finds himself quite busy in the evenings, scouring submind data or organizing lessons for his new student, activities that he obsesses over long after dusk, when any ordinary man would retire for the night. But endless work and looming threats be damned, Shaxx has an absurdly comfortable bed, with far too many pillows and a mattress so soft that Felwinter’s frame sinks immediately into it like a stone in a pond. He’d never known he needed a soft bed with a mountain of pillows. It has become one of the millions of little things he looks forward to when it comes to visiting his beloved in the Last Safe City of Humanity

His infrequent holiday stays in the City have been growing in length recently. In the past, he was lucky to have a single evening to himself to spend, a few scant hours spent being shown all of the spectacular things Shaxx detailed to him in his letters. Now, he is allotted more time, sometimes a week or more, once or twice a month. There was never any announcement made; Felwinter highly suspects that Radegast had been pestered into lessening the burdens of his duties by those few nosy Lords who had deciphered his unspoken relationship with Shaxx. Absolute wretches, all of them. He cannot complain.

He sleeps in more frequently now; Shaxx wakes earlier than him, often unable to step away from his post for longer than a few hours. But he never leaves without soft murmurs goodbye and a few kisses pressed to his face. Felspring teases him relentlessly when he finds himself brushing his hand over where Shaxx’s had been. He swats at her before dozing off for the next hour or so, Arc energy buzzing across his frame long after the Warlord has gone, soft flickers of static mimicking well-known, well-loved fingertips.

When he does finally wake up, it is to a still-empty house. If he makes a small noise of disappointment, he will never admit to it. He makes the bed, dresses himself, and opens the windows to let the sun and the air in, admiring the cityscape in the distance. It truly is as marvelous as Shaxx had made it out to be. A place where flowers bloom and birds sing, and Lightless people sleep without guns in their hands. Shaxx had entrusted Felwinter (and Felwinter alone. Oh, isn’t that a precious thought?) with a small, messy manuscript of hand-written poetry. Felwinter had smiled as Shaxx asked for his aid in revising it, hiding his apprehension in his hands as he wrung them, his feet as he shuffled them, his eyes as he averted them from his face. The very same manuscript lay on the kitchen counter, pockmarked with notes and bookmarks, the pages marked with fresh ink in the margins where Felwinter had endlessly praised Shaxx’s prose (in a much more legible script). Where words often failed the Iron Lord, his writing never did. He confessed his love through paragraphs of detailed interpretation and literary analysis. Poetry of his own.

Felwinter is in the process of writing more notes in the manuscript when Shaxx finally returns to the house. Felwinter turns to greet him– there is a tray of twin coffee cups in one hand and a small box cradled in the other, another bag tucked in his elbow.

Shaxx’s Ghost graciously removes the man’s helmet in time for him to press a kiss to his forehead. “Morning,” he rumbles as he deposits his goodies on the counter.

Felwinter absorbs the matching icons printed on the bag and the box. Some kind of bakery, evidently. He shuts the manuscript and sets it aside, taking one of the cups when Shaxx hands it to him. “Good morning,” he replies. “How goes the Crucible?”

“Astoundingly boring. I have no exciting clips to share.” The man sounds almost wounded. Felwinter curses whichever Guardian neglected to throw enough grenades to elicit excitement in the Crucible Handler. “The new Lights tend to try their luck during the summer months. I almost feel bad watching them get decimated by some of our veteran fireteams.”

“One would think the loss would motivate them to try harder.”

Shaxx laughs as he opens the box and examines its contents, out of Felwinter’s line of sight. “It does! That’s the thing about the newly Risen. They haven’t learned what quitting is yet.”

Felwinter does not protest when Shaxx plucks something out of the box and presses it insistently into his hand. It is a soft pastry, glazed with a sweet white frosting and sprinkled with what looks like chunks of cookies. Shaxx grabs an identical item out of the box, but his eyes are on Felwinter rather than the thing in his hand.

The Iron Lord puzzles over it, tilting it carefully so as not to spill the toppings, and stares at Shaxx. “What is this?”

“It’s a donut.” He shrugs with one shoulder. “It’s called a Bismarck. A banana Bismarck, to be exact.” He sounds overly proud of himself as he tilts his chin triumphantly. Felwinter huffs at the display.

Felspring hovers over his shoulder, studying the treat curiously. Felwinter wishes that she had a mouth so she could try it herself. In her stead, he slowly takes a bite, watching Shaxx mirror him with equal trepidation. He cranes his neck over the counter and cups his hand under the Bismarck, making sure no debris falls to the floor. The kitchen is flooded with an oddly pregnant silence as they chew thoughtfully in tandem with one another.

Felwinter signifies the end of his chewing and swallowing with “It’s good.”

“I concur,” Shaxx says. He is still chewing, and the words are muffled as he cleverly keeps his mouth as closed as possible. Crumbs speckle the corners of his lips. “Very sweet.”

“Obscenely,” he remarks. Shaxx barks a laugh.

Felwinter takes another bite. He feels like something, a loose screw, or a damaged cog, clicks back into place. He plucks a cookie off of the top of the thing and pops it into his mouth. It crunches loudly in the metal hollow of his mouth, and the sound drowns out every other thought in his head. Shaxx chuckles at him again, looking very strangely infatuated, and Felwinter cannot stop the lights that dot his chest and his neck from flickering in diffidence.

When his mouth dries up from consuming the pastry, Felwinter reaches for the coffee. It is strong, straight black just the way he likes it, and pleasantly hot rather than scalding. He drinks deeply and feels his plates thaw from the warmth of it, his mouth, his throat, his chest, and his stomach, each system absorbing it individually. The bitterness is a perfect complement to the sweetness of the Bismarck. Shaxx watches him overtly, an earnest tenderness visible in his eyes, unhurried anticipation visible in his open posture. Silently, he seeks appraisal.

“It’s very good,” Felwinter murmurs. All of the words he knows feel inadequate to describe his feelings, so he resorts to simplicity instead. “Thank you.”

Shaxx physically sags against the counter with what Felwinter assumes is relief. An uncharacteristically bashful grin pulls at the corners of his mouth. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure you’d like it.”

The Exo’s eyes sparkle with his version of a coy smile. “Do I not strike you as the type to enjoy banana-flavored sweets, Lord Shaxx?”

“No, Fel. Not at all.”

As if to prove him wrong, he takes another bite of the Bismarck. It is so sickeningly sweet that he is afraid it will somehow rot his metal mouth.

——

Playing Nice has ruined my fucking life. I’m so sorry.

[imonthemoonitsmadeofcheese]

i do not know a sinlge thing about you but i love ur url and blog title

What a lovely ask!  And from someone I also know next to nothing about! Although, when I go through someone else's tumblr and find things I've either already reposted and/or things I wish to repost on mine, I am filled with delight.

We shall become delicious friends.

This is my fanfiction blog and, while I do write non-fanfiction, that is kept separate from my writing here.  The url/blog title is stolen from the videogame, but it is a somewhat obscure reference with delightful nuance and I would love to tell you about it.  

And, since no one can stop me, I shall!

I am uncertain if you are familiar with the videogame Destiny 2, but I shall assume you are not.  That way, if someone else unfamiliar with it finds this post, this is useful for them, too.  Apologies if you happen to know some of this already.

In the game, you play as a human (normal, Awoken [space elf], or Exo [robot]) resurrected by a tiny drone known as a ghost.  You are granted magic powers (you pick one of three flavours of magic: fighty-Titan, sneaky-Hunter or sorcerer-Warlock) by your ghost to fight the enemies of humanity who are trying (and have mostly succeeded) to render us extinct. You also get guns.  Lots and lots of guns.

There's several non-player characters with rich backstories to get attached to in the game.  One of them is Lord Shaxx, the cheerful drill-sargent-like Titan in charge of the Crucible (where people go for player vs player minigames).  

Another one is Saint-14, a beloved Exo Titan warrior, one half of "everybody's favourite gay grandpas," who was rescued from beyond death by our character in combination his partner, Osiris (a Warlock who broke time to save him).  

One of Lord Shaxx's infamous lines in the Crucible is "It's not over until I sing, Guardian!  AND I NEVER SING."  

This is important because when Shaxx and Saint-14 have their first conversation after Saint-14 has returned from the dead, Saint reminds Shaxx he owes him money.  Shaxx cannot pay, and Saint demands that Shaxx sing to make up for it.

The words of the song he sings are "I'm on the Moon, it's made of cheese" and he claims Eris Morn (one of the two characters I obsessively write fanfiction for) taught the song to him.  

This sounds very cute and funny and sweet, but the melody is a very specific one, one the players heard at the start of the game for a year.

Later in the story (we're talking years in human reality time because when you include both D1 and D2, Destiny has had a continuous story delivered in chunks on a relatively consistent basis for over a decade now) the Drifter (the other characer I obsessively write about)

asks Eris about the song he was told she sung to Shaxx.

As it turns out, she never sung the song to Shaxx but she does hum the melody and asks if that is the song in question.  It is.  

In-game it is the viral chant of Savathun, the Witch Queen, Hive god of Cunning, a magical musical corrupting influence which cannot be unheard.  

Eris tells the Drifter that Shaxx must have heard it from his Ahamkara (wish dragon) skull he heeps hanging over him because the bones are attuned to the Darkness (the Darkness is initially set up in opposition to the Light, which is where the player's magic powers come from, but later on Eris, the Drifter, and the player all learn to wield the Darkness in addition to the Light.) (Except Eris doesn't get to wield the Light any more because her ghost died to save her in the Hellmouth on the Moon.)

The song itself is Savathun's musical theme in the game.  That theme or a variation of it is played when we encounter her or her shenanigans (she has *so* many shenanigans!) but before we knew that, it was the title music for the Shadowkeep expansion:

Which is the Eris-centred story about the Moon being haunted (literally - we fight nightmares - with guns). (And if you've ever seen that "Moon's Haunted" meme, Shadowkeep is what it is referencing.)

That makes "I'm on the Moon, it's made of cheese" not just a reference to Eris and that time Shaxx was forced to sing, but also a considerably less cute reference to the Moon being haunted and the insidious corrupting evil Hive magic Eris initially fights against (before eventually learning to wield) in order to save humanity.  

But it gets better! Eris, later on, becomes the Hive god of Vengeance and takes Savathun's power by killing her (temporarily - it's complicated, but so, so cathartic) only to use that power to give up her godhood so she can neutralize Savathun's sister Xivu-Arath, the Hive god of War.  

Therefore it's extra-cool and fitting for that melody's first appearance to be in relation to Eris because, even though it is Savathun's song, Savathun's power is what Eris takes and uses to save us years (and many content expansions) later.  

I can (and do) blather on about Eris Morn being awesome on a routine basis so I'll stop there... she really is an amazing badass character and the writing for her in this silly shooty game is extremely well done.

So my url/blog title is a multi-layered creepy obscure reference to Eris, Hive magic, and Savathun, as well as the time the Drifter convinced Eris to sing to him, and the other time Saint made the guy who never sings, sing.

...But I also just really like cheese.

[jate-kara]

Horizon | On AO3

Thirty-seven hours.

Andal had told himself he’d stop counting after twenty-four. It was his usual compromise: worry for a while, and then let it go. Focus on your work. Don't get distracted. Do some extra training when you get too restless. This was all familiar agony by now. The field was for his Hunters. The Tower was for the Vanguard.

Traveler, sometimes he wished he’d never accepted that damn Dare.

Andal risked another glance at the clock. Zavala was at the head of the conference table and still deep in conversation with Saladin. He wasn't likely to catch the fourth check in two minutes. Ikora, though - she knew. Andal felt her shoot him a worried side-eye from somewhere to his left. He pretended he didn't notice. His datapad had sat untouched in front of him for so long that the screen had gone dark, so despite the stylus he'd been toying with to at least look sort of busy, it was painfully evident that he was not paying any amount of the requisite attention. Shit.

He clicked the datapad on again, more to avoid Ikora's concern than to actually accomplish anything. His notes were messy and scattered. The notifications were equally cluttered. Mission report submission flags. Memos from scheduled check-ins. Updates from secondary Scouts he'd sent out after the primary Hunter for the mission had dropped off the map for too long. Sometimes, that was just Hunters being Hunters. Other times, that was Hunters being dead. Andal scanned the updates. There was nothing new.

There was nothing that would stop the clock he was supposed to have started ignoring thirteen hours ago.

The meeting ended an hour late. Andal was the first one up. As soon as he rounded the hall corner and was out of the others' immediate sight, he let the Void wash over him. Technically, using the Light to go invisible in the Tower was frowned upon. Only technically. And he had no intentions of getting caught, just like he had no intentions of speaking to anyone between here and his Vanguard office. His head was spinning. He had to remember to breathe. He had no idea what the hell anyone had been talking about for the last three hours.

He needed out of this damn Tower.

He didn't go to his Vanguard office. He climbed up to the highest point of the Tower that he could find and he dangled his legs over the edge and he looked at the City and the world beyond its horizon and he wanted to scream. Shiro and Tevis and Cayde were out there somewhere, each on their own assignments. He'd put them on a special check-in schedule, one that guaranteed he'd be able to talk to them, no matter how briefly. They were supposed to call one after the other: Shiro, then Tevis, then Cayde. But he hadn't heard from any of them in thirty-eight hours. Even meticulous, responsible Shiro had missed the last window; there hadn't been so much as a ping from his Ghost to say he was still alive.

Andal dropped his head into his hands and dragged his fingernails along his scalp. He'd pulled his long hair up into a messy bun a while ago, too distracted to bother with brushing it. Cayde would fuss over him if he saw it - Haven’t taken a break lately, huh? - and then gently undo and untangle it. Andal closed his eyes and imagined it, just for a second. That warmth. That peace.

He'd kill for that right now.

"I'm sure they're fine." Astraea materialized beside him. "They're just…busy.”

I should be there with them. The words died in his throat. He’d made his choice when he’d accepted the Dare. This was his life now, and had been for well over a year. Him, here, with the Vanguard and the bureaucrats, while his most important people in the world were out there. Maybe in danger. Without him. For the rest of eternity, unless some other Hunter stepped up and said they wanted the job. Or he died. In which case it was Cayde's problem.

Andal drove his palms into his eyes. “Get a grip,” he groaned, and was glad Astraea knew him well enough to know when he was talking to himself, and not at her. “Not like any of this is new.”

Astraea bumped his shoulder. Andal patted at her absently. "Thanks," he muttered. "Sorry I'm not the best company right now."

His comm buzzed before she had the chance to respond. Andal scrambled to answer it. He recognized the code immediately. "Shiro, you all right?"

There was a long, weighted pause. "Are you?"

Damn, he really did need to pull it together.  "You missed your check-in," Andal said, instead of explaining the crack in his voice. "I thought-"

"Sorry about that. Ran into some comm interference unexpectedly. I've got the patrol data and I'm making the return trip. So I'll ask you again: what happened to you?"

There was no good way to answer that. "Vanguard stuff," he said. "Nothing to worry about."

"Cayde and Tevis haven't checked in either, have they?" It sounded more like a statement than a question. Shiro really had a way of seeing through bullshit. It was very useful when it was leveled at Cayde or Tevis. Not so much right now.

Andal blew out a breath. "No. Not for a while."

"You know Tevis doesn't check in because he doesn't want to, and Cayde is…Cayde. They're probably fine."

"I know."

Shiro gave a disbelieving huff. "I'll be back at the Tower in a few hours. We can go over the patrol data then, unless you have other obligations."

Shiro didn't need to come all the way back to the Tower to go over data. It was something they could easily manage through a few messages or comm calls. Some of the tightness in Andal's chest eased. "I don't," he said, without checking his schedule. "I'll meet you in my office when you get here."

It turned out maybe he should have checked his schedule, because when he finally made his way back down into the inhabited part of the Tower, Zavala was standing outside his door. Andal came to a slow stop. The Commander wasn't holding a datapad so they probably didn't have a meeting Andal had forgotten about, and he didn't have a severe expression, so Andal probably hadn't done anything to warrant a reprimand.

"Something I can help you with?" Andal asked, crossing his arms and propping a shoulder against the wall.

Zavala watched him with a furrowed brow. He was quiet for a moment, as though he was trying to figure out how to say what he wanted to say. "You seemed - distracted, earlier today. I wanted to-"

"I'm fine." Oh, way to go, Brask. Top points for selling that one.

Zavala studied him. "You've received a great deal of difficult reports in the last week," he said. "If there's anything I can-"

"Look, I appreciate it, but there's nothing to worry about." Andal tried for a smile, and knew it didn't reach his eyes. He pushed himself up off the wall, then moved to access the keypad for his office. Zavala stepped out of the way, but he didn't go any farther. Andal shot him a glance as the door opened. "That all?"

There was a tired defeat in Zavala’s eyes. "Yes," he said quietly. "Goodnight, Andal."

Andal stepped in, swiped the door shut,  and slid down against the wall beside it. He didn't bother turning on the lights. The only source of illumination was the moonbeams streaming through the floor to ceiling windows, and the muted glow of the City below. Andal leaned his head back and let his eyes slip shut.

"He's just trying to help," Astraea said. She sounded disapproving. Andal kept his eyes closed. She nudged his shoulder - once, and then again when he didn't move.

"I know," he allowed.

"He's your friend. So is Ikora. I know you saw her message yesterday."

"I didn't say that I didn't."

"But you didn't answer her."

"She's got enough going on without me adding to it."

"They're worried about you."

"I'm fine."

The lights clicked on. Andal jumped, and was halfway to his feet when the sound of the door opening finally registered, like the information had been caught in a buffer before it hit his brain.

Shiro stared down at him as if he'd just found him half dead in a pit and not slumped pathetically in his office. "'Fine'," he repeated. "Yeah, you sure look fine."

"You're okay," Andal said, like it wasn't obvious.

"Is there some reason you thought I wouldn't be? It was just a patrol, Andal. Very routine."

Almost every one of the dead Hunters' missions had been routine. Andal blinked at him. "Uh. No?"

"If you want me to believe you, don't phrase that like a question." Shiro eased to the floor beside him, close enough that their shoulders were pressed together. Some of the tension strung along Andal's spine released. "You want to tell me what's going on, or do you want me to drag Cayde back here for you?"

"Are those my only two options?"

"Well, I can get Tev, but he'll probably make you buy him a drink before he'll listen."

Andal managed something close to a laugh. "If I pull him off recon to come back to the Tower, you'll need to find another Vanguard. He'll kill me. He hates it here more than I do right-"

He cut himself off too late. Shiro tilted his head at him, and Andal shrugged helplessly. "Forget I said anything," he said, as if that had ever dissuaded Shiro before.

It hadn't. And it didn't this time. Shiro's gaze was considering. "Is it the Tower, or someone in it?"

That look was distinctly Tevis. Andal shoved at Shiro's shoulder, to at least jar him out of it. "It's the Tower. And even if it wasn't, you can't just shoot someone for bothering me."

"Hey, I'd make sure they were a Lightbearer first."

There was no grin in Shiro's voice. Andal wanted to believe it had been a joke. No, he was going to believe it. For his own sanity. He scrubbed at his eyes. Shiro waited.

"It's the Tower," Andal said again. "It's always the damn Tower. I'm up here sending the Hunters out but it's never me getting shot at."

"Ah." Shiro didn't sound surprised, just thoughtful. "Someone took a hit and didn't get back up."

"Three fireteams in the last week." Andal's voice cracked. He felt more than saw Shiro shift, so he was pressed a little closer.

"We all know the risks."

"We had bad information." The words tasted acrid. Like an excuse. "The assignments I gave them went sideways because of it."

"You do what you can with what you have, and so do they."

Andal's heart turned painfully. "One of these times," he whispered, a voice for the fear burning in his chest, "it could be you. Or Tevis. Or Cayde."

"Maybe. But I've always known that, even before you were Vanguard. If anything happened, I wouldn't blame you, Andal. I'd appreciate it if you respected that enough to not blame yourself."

Shiro never did waste time dancing around the point. Andal opened his mouth to argue, but one glance at Shiro's unwavering stare was enough to kill the protest before it started. "All right," he said, and held his hands up in mock surrender. "I get it."

"You don't. But you'll get there."

Andal elbowed him. Shiro was unaffected. "I know you well enough to know this isn't the last time we're going to have this conversation. That's fine. I'll say it as many times as you need me to."

Breathing hurt, suddenly. "Thanks," Andal said, more quietly than he'd meant to.

"You don't have to thank me. Just remember what I said." Shiro's expression shifted, from resolved to concerned. "You've been Vanguard for a while. This isn't the first time this kind of thing has happened. Tell me you've been talking to someone when it does."

Andal didn't answer. 

"Andal."

"...does Astraea count?"

"He doesn't talk to me about it," Astraea interjected. "He just says he's fine and not to worry about him."

Shiro heaved a soul-weary sigh. "I don't know what I expected."

Andal grimaced. "Sorry. I probably owe you a drink after all this."

"You don't owe me anything."

"Pretty sure I was supposed to give you some glimmer at some point."

That earned him a chuckle. "Keep it. I've heard Vanguard pay is terrible."

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Andal let it be for a moment, and then he broke it. "You know, it'd be easier to see the stars out there if you'd left the lights off."

"So go turn the lights off."

"I didn't turn them on. You do it."

Shiro held up one sparking finger. "Don't fry my office," Andal grumbled, pushing himself to his feet so he could cross the room to the lightswitch. "Damned Bladedancer."

Halfway there, his comm chimed, and his heart leapt into his throat. He barely registered the code as he fumbled to swipe the screen on. "Cayde?"

"I'm sorry," Cayde blurted. He rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. "Just realized I missed the last check-in. Sundance reminded me. Fallen were shooting at us. I was shooting back. It was a mess. Glad we made - hey, are you okay?"

"Do I look not okay?"

Cayde made a show of scrutinizing him. "Huh," he said, and nothing else.

Despite the relief flooding his chest, Andal wanted to strangle him. "What do you mean, 'huh'?"

"Just huh," Cayde returned. "How's the Tower?"

"A lot quieter when you're not in it."

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"You tell me." Andal's datapad pinged an alert - Tevis sending a short summary of his findings, which usually amounted to about three sentences: Went to the Place. Killed the enemies. Left the Place. This one had an extra few at the end. Shiro told me to check in more. I'm not doing that. ~ T.L.

"Andal?"

"Tevis sent me his report. He was nice enough to leave the location tag on it. He's somewhere in the City. And he missed every check-in."

Cayde tried to stifle his laugh. "Sorry, I know it's not funny," he said, through the palm he'd plastered over his mouth.

"Yeah, I can tell," Andal said dryly. "Don't you have your own report to be writing right about now?"

"No, because right now I'm talking to my beloved Vanguard."

It was far from the sappiest thing Cayde had ever said. It still made Andal's heart melt. "Fine," he said, trying for a measure of sternness and completely and utterly failing. "Do it later."

"He won't," Shiro supplied, exasperated, and Cayde sputtered some kind of protest. Andal barely heard it. He hit the lights, settled down next to Shiro, and listened to them bicker. If he closed his eyes, he was back with the crew, laughing around a campfire under a blanket of stars. The air was crisp and cool and their eyes were shining and no one was dead. He breathed and his chest didn't hurt.

He breathed, and for a while, it felt like peace.

—

Peace did not last long: only until the next morning, actually, when he woke up on his office couch with his neck at a bad angle and his limbs tangled in a survival pack blanket that didn't belong to him but had trim in Shiro's signature yellow. The sun was streaming through the windows, he couldn't move his head more than a few degrees to the left - and someone was banging on his door. Andal blinked blankly at it for a few beats. He didn't have meetings early.

"Good morning!" Astraea chirped, like the world's happiest alarm clock. "It's almost noon."

Andal cast her a sour look as he dug around in search of his datapad. "Hello?" he croaked, and cursed his dry throat.

The banging stopped. Small mercy. Andal untangled himself the rest of the way from the blanket and stumbled from one end of the office to the other until he realized his boots were right next to the couch the whole time. "Could just cloak and go out the window," he muttered, and shuffled over to slam the door release.

Lord Shaxx was not a frequent visitor; he hadn't been even before Twilight Gap had taken him from a position in the old Vanguard to Crucible handler. There were no meetings on Andal's schedule. He hadn't agreed to any Crucible match he could remember. But Shaxx was still here, fully armored, with his hands on his hips.

"Shaxx," Andal said, haltingly. "Something I can help you with?"

"You're alive! Good. Come with me."

Andal jogged to catch up, acutely aware of Astraea's amused hum and his own disheveled appearance. "If I missed a meeting, you have my apologies. But you could just send me a message."

Shaxx gave a booming laugh. "You aren't missing anything," he said, like that made whatever he was talking about obvious. "But you think you are. And I have a solution."

"Your solution to everything is a Crucible match."

"Not quite."

Shaxx led him out of the Tower, and then out of the City, all the way to the outskirts. To the Wall. To the gaping wound in it. Andal slowed to a stop. The wind was just as cutting now as it had been then, but today, there was no fire or smoke or seething ruin. The sky was clear for miles. Flowers had grown over the rubble, and they waved gently in the breeze. No death. No bodies. No blood. Just old scars, and a quiet peace.

Andal turned to Shaxx, stricken. "Why here?"

"Where else?" Shaxx's volume had dropped, but his voice was no less powerful for its softness. He took a few steps forward and rested a hand on the wound in the Wall. "You remember that day as well as I do."

"Everyone in the City remembers Twilight Gap."

"'Everyone', you say, as if you didn't lead a charge off the Wall and into the fray yourself. As if you didn't hunt the Fallen to the end of the pass alone. No ammunition. You'd lost your knife. All you had was your will, and your Light."

"Are you going somewhere with this?"

"Tell me, Brask: do your Hunters follow you of their own free will?"

Andal bit back a sigh. "Do you think there's anyone in the damn world who could get that many Hunters to do something they didn't want to do?"

"No," Shaxx said simply.

Andal dragged a hand through the mess that was his hair. Half of it had come free of the bun when he'd been asleep, and he'd pulled it apart the rest of the way on the walk to the Wall. The wind cutting down through the mountain pass blew it across his face, so instead of answering Shaxx, he focused on tying it back.

Shaxx was still staring at him once he finished. "Zavala thinks you need time. Ikora says to give you space. I think you've had enough of both. What you need is a reminder.

"A reminder?"

"That there is a reason for the Hunters' belief in you. That you would give your life for the City as readily as any of them. That your leadership from the Tower is not cowardice. That there is no shame in your grief, and that it is not weakness to ask another for their strength."

The words rang between them. Shaxx let the echo hang there, and Andal didn't try to dispel it. He didn't want to crack a joke, or bury the ache building in his chest. He wanted to breathe without the crushing weight. He wanted to hear Shiro weave a story again. He wanted to see Tevis give that rare grin. He wanted the warmth of Cayde’s arms around him. He wanted the open air and the faint light of the stars above. But he was caught between the familiar agony and the City's horizon: always reaching for a world he could no longer touch. Always mourning the deaths he couldn't prevent. Always wondering who might be next.

Andal crossed his arms against the wind's chill. "I wish it felt like enough," he said.

Shaxx relaxed his stance: less proud warrior and more gentle giant. "I know," he returned, and what he didn't say, Andal heard anyway. There was a reason it was so hard to find Hunters willing to be the Vanguard: why Tallulah had made that bet with the Ahamkara, why Caliban had lamented his fate when the role fell to him after, and then dropped off the map, and why every successor since had either died or disappeared, too. The Tower wasn't a cage like Cayde seemed to think, but it kept them separate from the Hunters they sought to unite. They could plan and guide and inspire all they wanted: it wouldn't change the fact that they couldn't stand shoulder-to-shoulder with their Scouts. Sooner or later, it drove them to desperate recklessness. Sooner or later, one way or another, it got them killed.

Andal met Shaxx's line of sight, and knew, even through the helmet, that his gaze was steel. "I know what you're trying to do," Andal said, with a rueful shake of the head. "You don't have to. I'm not going to go off the deep end."

Shaxx didn't move, except to square his shoulders. There was a current of tension to his stance that hadn't been there before. "It's a funny thing," he said. "Caliban said something similar to me once. And where is he now?

"I'm not Caliban."

"Neither was Aparajita. Or Kauko Swiftriver."

"I'm not them either," Andal shot back. "I gave my word when I accepted the Dare. I'm Vanguard now. It's my responsibility. That won't change. I just - I wish I could be out there with them."

The words left him like they'd been forced out by a blow to the chest: explosive and desperate. Shaxx considered him for a long moment. He didn't look convinced, not even a little, but he didn't push further. In the distance, the sun was sinking below the mountains. Shaxx turned to that instead, and Andal followed him. They stayed in the quiet of the Gap until the fire of the sunset had faded into twilight. Then, with a thunderous clap to his shoulder, Shaxx left for the City.

Andal propped himself up against some overgrown rubble and dug his datapad out of his pack. He wanted to put it back immediately. Every Hunter he'd dispatched on a mission in the last two months had apparently decided to send in their reports at the same time. His messages were a veritable flood

"Not dealing with that right now," Andal muttered, and scrolled past them. The rest was standard - Vanguard shit, a couple pings from Shiro for no reason besides saying hello, a single line from Tevis's datapad that just said Checking in - from Shiro, Tev is with me - and sixteen missed calls from Cayde. Andal jolted upright, then immediately relaxed. The most recent call had a short note attached: sorry - sat on my datapad. <3

Warmth swelled in Andal's chest, and stayed there all the way back to the Tower. His Vanguard apartment was tucked in the lower levels, far from any hum of activity. It made the chances of running into a Consensus lackey significantly slimmer - which was good, because he didn't have that much patience for them on his best days, and all he wanted to do now was clean up, make some tea, call Cayde, and settle in on the couch to maybe review at least some of the report deluge.

Right after he figured out why the damn door was already unlocked. Andal reached for his knife, called the Void, and slipped inside without a sound. Nothing out of place in the entryway - except an extra pair of boots that most certainly did not belong to him, and a familiar cloak hanging on the hook.

The Void receded in a rush. He heard more than saw Astraea lock the door behind him. "Cayde?" Andal called, sheathing his blade and toeing off his own boots.

A soft noise came from the pile of blankets on the couch. Andal made it to Cayde's side just in time to see him shoot upright and fling the blankets off. "Damn it," Cayde muttered. His shoulders slumped. "I was gonna make you dinner."

This close, Andal could see the telltale signs of exhaustion. Cayde had a particular way of holding himself when he'd gone too long without stopping; that thin strand of tension was corded through his frame as if it was the only thing holding him up. "Sorry," he mumbled, and stifled a yawn. "Got in early, took a shower and thought, hey, what's five minutes. Turns out it was not five minutes."

"Are those my clothes?" Andal asked, amused.

Cayde looked down at himself like it was a surprise. He'd stolen a simple pair of black sweatpants and a soft navy blue jacket that he'd only bothered to zip up a quarter of the way. "Maybe."

"Either they are or they aren't. There's no maybe option."

"Maybe," Cayde said again, with more conviction.

Andal fought the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth as he kneeled next to the couch. "You look tired," he said, pushing a careful palm against Cayde's exposed chest to ease him into lying down.

Cayde went without resistance or retort. There was a faint, unfocused haze to the glow of his eyes. He covered Andal's hand with one of his own and held it there, pressed to the low thrum of life. "Missed you," he whispered.

Andal's heart turned so sharply his insides ached. "That's supposed to be my line," he managed, leaning forward to lay his cheek against Cayde's chest.

"Hey, Andal?" Cayde's voice wavered. His other arm settled across Andal's back. "You'd tell me if something was wrong, right?"

Andal hummed an affirmative. It earned him a low chuckle. The fingers tracing lazy circles on his back crept up to tug his hair free, and Andal couldn't help the soft groan when they dragged along his scalp. "I don't mean with just this," Cayde said. "I mean in general."

"Not when you're in the field. I don't want you distracted."

"You know I think about you anyway." There was a spark of mischief in Cayde's tone. "And anyway, I'm not in the field right now."

Andal rolled his eyes and pushed himself to his feet with a huff, heedless of Cayde’s pitiful whine at the loss of contact. "I need to clean up. Then we can go get dinner."

Andal made it halfway to the bedroom before he heard footsteps, and arms wrapped around his waist from behind. "Lemme help," Cayde murmured, a rush of warmth against the back of his neck.

"I actually want to get clean sometime today, Cayde."

"Your hair's a mess."

"I was out in the wind." Andal twisted in his arms so he could look him in the eyes, and his next protest died on his lips. It wasn't often Cayde looked at him with so much raw vulnerability; he cloaked his fear and his grief in dazzling sunlight, so the rest of the world would focus on the flash of his smile and not the cracks in his heart. Andal had learned to see through it a long time ago. But it was different when Cayde stripped it away himself.

"I missed you," Cayde said, and his voice cracked. "I still miss you. And I can't figure out how to get to where you are so I can stop."

Andal brushed his fingers along the sharp line of his jaw. Cayde’s next inhale stuttered, more a sob than a sigh of contentment, and Andal's world collapsed and coalesced until all he could see was Cayde, burning with his own familiar agony and breaking himself apart to cross the horizon between them.

Andal surged forward and wrapped his arms around him and kissed him until the fire in his lungs was because he couldn't breathe, and not because the peace he wanted was out of his reach. Cayde was warm and solid and pressed against him, and that low thrum was strong and sure beneath his fingertips, and Cayde's breath was a soft whisper against his neck.

"I'm here," Cayde said. The words were ragged, strangled by his desperation. "I've got you."

Andal tried to ease a step back, to see his face, and to kiss him again, but Cayde resisted any movement that could put any amount of space between them - like if he let go now, Andal would once more be beyond him. It made Andal's chest ache. He didn't want to let go. He wanted to be here, where there was no death, or loss, or crushing weight. He wanted to lose himself in the steady hum from the heart of Cayde's frame. He wanted to open the windows and gaze at stars while he was wrapped up in Cayde's arms. It felt like peace. Like home. A single word burned in his throat, a plea he could never voice - Stay.

"You wanna tell me what's going on?" Cayde asked, a long time later, and still holding him close.

Andal shook his head.

"Okay," Cayde said. "You wanna go clean up?"

Andal heaved a deep sigh. Cayde laughed softly. "C'mon, it'll help."

"I'm fine here," Andal grumbled, and grasped futilely at Cayde's shoulders when he gently pulled away.

"C'mon," Cayde said again, tangling their fingers together and tugging him toward the bedroom. "I gotcha."

Cayde helped him wash up and slip into a comfortable hooded sweatshirt and loose pants, then set him down on the couch and went to work on his hair. It was still wet from the shower, and gradually less disastrous the longer Cayde spent painstakingly massaging various products into it. The careful rhythm soothed Andal into a warm haze. His head dropped back against Cayde's collar, and he only noticed he'd almost drifted off because those lovely fingers in his hair stopped moving.

"You know you have to sit up more if you want me to finish this."

"Mm."

"Andal." There was fond exasperation there. Cayde tapped his cheek. The quiet ping of a message notification interrupted whatever he was going to say next. He gathered Andal to his chest and planted a quick kiss on his hair, then started to extricate himself from the embrace.

Andal's heart lurched. He closed a tight grip around Cayde's wrist reflexively. "You're leaving?"

Cayde paused his efforts to untangle himself from Andal and also escape the sinking cushions of the couch. He didn't tug at the wrist Andal had in a vice grip. "Just for a minute," Cayde answered slowly. "I asked Tevis to pick us up some food. He's almost here."

Andal made himself let go. "Tevis hates the Tower. He won't come here unless he absolutely has to. Trust me, I've tried."

"Well, he does absolutely have to. He owes me a favor."

"Do I want to know how that happened?"

"Nope," Cayde said, with a little too much enthusiasm, as he finally managed to get back to his feet. He reached down to tilt Andal's chin up with a single digit. "Be right back. Don't go anywhere, beautiful."

Andal swatted at his hand. "Quit flirting and go let Tevis in," he said, despite the warmth blooming under his ribs. "I don't want him to break my door down."

It wasn't Tevis that showed up: it was an uncharacteristically surly Shiro. He handed the bags to Cayde with all the airs of a man who'd just spent too long fighting a losing battle. "I owed him a favor," he muttered. "And he decided that his debt to you was paid when he picked the food up and brought it to me. So I could take it to you."

"I told you he was a cheat," Cayde said, unhelpfully.

"Thanks, Shiro," Andal called, and Shiro studied him intently for a second. Whatever he found swept some of the aggravation away from his stance; he tossed off a cheerful wave as he ducked out.

Cayde was already unpacking the ramen onto the coffee table. Behind him, Sundance closed and locked the door with a sigh. Andal cast her a thankful look as he settled on the floor and propped his back against the couch.

Cayde dropped down next to him. "I was thinking," he said, looping an arm around Andal, "that I'd stick around the City for a couple weeks. Maybe drag you out of the Tower sometimes. Shiro said there're a few local festivals coming up, and-"

He didn't finish, because Andal stole the rest of his words with a searing kiss.

"Didn't know you liked festivals that much." Cayde sounded breathless. His gaze was completely unfocused. "Damn."

Andal tapped his cheek. "You okay in there?"

"I think I shorted something, but yeah." Cayde shook his head, like that would clear the fog. "Do that again."

Andal almost considered it. Almost. But the weariness in his bones felt like a lead weight, and the ramen was steaming, and Cayde was half curled around him. "Later," he said instead, and felt Cayde's chest hum with a soft laugh.

"You got it."

—-

The damn Tower was only ever loud on the rare occasion he wanted it to stay quiet.

Andal heard the hurricane coming before it hit and immediately categorized it as a five, because while there were two pairs of hurried footsteps approaching his office door at battering speed, the only raised voice he could make out was coming from the Speaker, and that always meant serious trouble. Could be an issue with the Consensus. Could be an emergency meeting to address some kind of apocalyptic threat.

Or it could be Tevis Larsen, stalking through the door with the Speaker two steps behind him. He didn't wait for the leader of the entire City's governing body to come through after him; he slammed a fist back into the controls to close and lock it in his face.

Andal shot to his feet. "Tevis, what the hell?"

"He asked me to explain calling out to the Void to him." Tevis looked utterly unperturbed. "I said no. He kept asking. I wasn't gonna say no twenty times."

Andal dragged a hand down his face. Tevis, who hated the Tower, was in the Tower, in Andal's office, with a slighted Speaker standing just outside the door, presumably after having followed Tevis across the entire structure asking about a power that was anything but well understood, which had to do with a branch of the Light that certain vocal fringe groups still considered controversially aligned with the Darkness, despite every writing Ikora Rey had ever produced with evidence to the contrary. Great. He could already see the fifteen new committees this was going to spawn.

"Tevis," Andal said, voice tight, "the Speaker is in charge of the entire Consensus. He runs the City."

"I don't answer to the damned Consensus. And if you weren't on the Vanguard, I wouldn't answer to them either."

Andal closed his eyes and massaged the bridge of his nose. "Fine, then look at it this way: I work with these people. Could you try not to make me look bad?"

"Cayde's been in here all the damn time lately. I don't think their opinions can get any lower."

Andal bit back a retort and reached for the door controls so he could start to smooth the mess out, but Zavala's voice on the other side stopped him. Ah. He was already on it. Andal would have to thank him later. "Okay," he said, turning back to Tevis. "What the hell is going on?"

Tevis's face didn't even twitch. "I can't just visit a friend?"

"Not when you've spent the last week avoiding me."

Tevis shrugged. "Shiro's been on my ass about coming to see you. I got sick of it."

"Shiro's been on your ass about that for a lot longer than the week you've been back in the City. Nice try, though."

A flicker of unease flashed in Tevis's eyes. He tugged at his hood, but didn't lower it, shifted his weight from one foot to the other, and glanced at the door. "Can we talk somewhere else?"

Andal waited until there were no more voices behind his door, then led Tevis outside, away from the Vanguard and the Consensus and the low buzz of their chaos. He only stopped once they made it to his sanctuary at the highest point of the Tower.

"You allowed to be up here? Thought your Vanguard might be kinda uptight about it." Tevis sat down gingerly, like he didn't trust the edge not to crumble by virtue of it being a Vanguard structure, and dangled his legs over the abyss below.

"Don't know. Never asked." Andal eased down too, and leaned back on his hands. In the distance, the sun was just starting to sink toward the horizon. A warm gust of wind caught Tevis's hood and blew it back, and Andal jolted. Tevis's long, dark hair was pulled up and braided into an elaborate coil at the back of his head. It wasn't something he had the inclination to do himself; mostly he just tied it however was quickest.

"Did you finally let Cayde do your hair?" Andal blurted.

He knew the answer before Tevis gave it by the exasperated eyeroll. "One time and one time only," Tevis muttered, but a faint smile still curved the corner of his mouth when he ran a hand over the coil of hair. "He said he wanted to practice it. Looked so happy about it I didn't have the heart to tell him off."

"Looks good on you," Andal said brightly, and earned an elbow to the side of the head. "Ow."

"You get shot and you don't make a damn sound. How the hell is that 'ow'?"

"Most of the time getting shot kills me."

Tevis gave a deep sigh. "Not what I meant." 

"Pretty sure there was something else you came here to talk about anyway." Andal gave him a sidelong glance, and Tevis's shoulders tensed. "Did something happen?"

"No," Tevis ground out. His face went through an impressive array of volatile emotions before settling on blatant discomfort. He opened his mouth to say something else and all that came out was a single cracked syllable.

Andal shifted closer, so their shoulders were pressed together. He didn't say anything and, for a long time, neither did Tevis. He just sat there glaring into the distance with his hands clenched into fists in his lap.

"You're okay here?" Tevis managed at last.

"I'm not sure what that means, Tev."

Tevis scowled. "Being in the Tower all the time isn't killing you?"

Andal tilted his head at him. Tevis avoided his gaze. "It's where I belong now."

Tevis scoffed at that. A thin tremor ran down his spine. "Fucking Dare," he hissed under his breath.

Andal groaned. "Don't start. I get enough of that from Cayde calling the Tower a cage every other week."

"No, I don't mean - " Tevis stopped short. His fists were clenched so tightly his forearms were trembling. He took a ragged breath. "When you left to be Vanguard, I told myself it wasn't that different. You were always the mastermind and the marksman. Who the hell cared if you were on overwatch from the Tower now? You were looking out for us, same as always. But it wasn't the same."

Tevis took a steadying breath, but it didn't stop his arms from shaking. "Wasn't the same," he repeated, like he was forcing the words out. "Didn't know how to deal with it, so I left. Spent a lot of time on my own before I met Cayde and he dragged me into his crazy bullshit. Never thought I'd like being part of a crew. Never thought I'd miss it this much, either."

Andal's chest ached. He nudged Tevis with an elbow. "You know you can still come see me," he said. It came out flat, as if it couldn't mean anything when it was weighed against the gravity of everything else.

Tevis gave him a tired stare, then turned back to the horizon. "It's like there's a barrier," he said, so softly Andal almost missed it. "Between here and out there. Shiro goes back and forth across it like it's nothing. Cayde's a damn disaster about it, but he won't admit it. And you have to stay in the Tower even if half of you's on the other side of that horizon."

"What about you?"

"It's easier to just stay out there." 

Tevis fell silent. Andal let the quiet be until some of the tension in Tevis's shoulders had eased. "Hey, Tev?"

"Hm."

"You know avoiding me because you miss me doesn't make a lot of sense."

"That's what Shiro said."

"Shiro's usually right when it comes to you."

"The hell he is."

"Cayde agrees with me."

"Of course he does. Cayde'll do anything to be a pain in my ass." Beneath the dry delivery, there was a note of undeniable fondness.

Andal huffed a laugh. "Can't really argue with that."

Tevis went quiet again. At first, it looked like he was winding up to bolt. Andal could count on one hand the number of times Tevis Larsen had had an honest conversation about his feelings and not imploded afterwards, and all of them had happened at death's door. But while he had half curled in on himself like he was protecting a wound, Tevis didn't get up, or make a move to throw himself off the Tower to escape. He stayed, and he watched the sun sink into a sea of fire at Andal's side.

"I'll try to be here more," Tevis offered gruffly, once the burning sunset had faded to a cool twilight. "On one condition."

"Anything."

"You check in too."

Andal blinked at him. "Huh?"

"You make a hell of a Vanguard, Andal, but I know it's killing part of you to be up in the Tower. Stop acting like it isn't. You can't talk to Cayde about it because he gets all guilty. Fine. Talk to me or Shiro then."

Tevis offering to talk about emotions on a regular basis: that was a new one. It stunned Andal to brief silence. "Okay," he said, a long moment later, and almost jumped when Tevis dragged him into a rough hug.

"I'll hold you to it," Tevis said, and even though Andal couldn't see his face, he heard the smile in his voice.

Andal tilted his head back to look up at the stars. They cast a faint glow high above the hum of the City, just enough to see the faint outline of the horizon beyond.

Suddenly, it didn't feel so far away.

—-

[erisxdrifter]

Seriously, how does he drink coffee...?👀

[nyxmisfortune]

The Dark Woods - Destiny 2 Masterlist

Fluff-🍄

Angst-🥀

Romance-💐

Platonic-🌱

No stated relationship- 🍀

Polyamorus-🌼

Headcanons-🍁

SFW alphabet - 🌾

Cayde-6 The Crow

Learning how to lead🍄🍀

Lord Shaxx Eris Morn

Eris cuddling headcanons🍄💐🍁

Failsafe

Being bestfriends with Failsafe🍄���

Being best friends with Failsafe p.2🍄🌱

[lordshaxxhandler]

Not me trying to find a way to put this Lord Shaxx dialogue into the story I’m writing 👀.

“Give me a minute, I need to handle this….WHAT DO YOU THINK ‘HEAVY AMMO AVALIBLE’ MEANS GUARDIAN? TELL ME! BECAUSE I DONT THINK YOU GET IT” – Lord Shaxx

[the-light-finds-its-way]

It's been a long time since I wrote anything about Vandus-1, a character that came to me in a dream. He was a Vex severed from the hive mind only partially, but came to Titan me, and asked for help to be fully severed from it. So I took him to Europa, and we fought through the Vex there, but one shot Vandus in the head, almost killing him. I quickly gathered Exo body parts, and hooked him up to them, afraid he wouldn't make it. After several hours, the Exo body awoke, and Vandus spoke in his own voice this time, thanking me. We broke out of the facility together, and made it back to the Tower.

Well!! I've got more content for y'all!! :D

Vandus one day feels something in his stomach. He's confused. It's like an empty rumbling...

"That's hunger," I tell him. "Let's go to the ramen shop!"

"What's ramen? What's hunger? I'm... so confused!!" Vandus cries. The rumbling comes once more, and Vandus grips his stomach, groaning.

I chuckled. "It's alright, man. You've never had to eat before, have you?"

He shakes his head. "I've heard of it, but Vex don't eat."

"You're gonna love it!!" I tell him. And I direct him toward the ramen shop.

Once we sit down, the cook asks us what kind of ramen we want. I select salty, and Vandus, he just hesitates.

"He's never eaten anything before," I tell the cook. "He's... new."

Nodding, the cook just makes another bowl of salty ramen, and passes it to Vandus. "Try it! You'll love it!!" they say.

Vandus picks up the chopsticks awkwardly, holding both in his fist.

I chuckle. "Watch me," I say. I place the sticks properly in Vandus's hand, then show him how to pick up the ramen. I put it in my mouth, and chew, then swallow.

Vandus follows along, and puts some ramen in his mouth. Immediately, the lights of his eyes grow brighter, and he perks up. "By the Traveler!! This is amazing!!"

"Right?!"

There, Vandus quickly eats all the meal, and he deeply thanks the cook. "I'll be back as soon as I'm hungry again!" he says. "I... still don't know when that will be."

"Not very long if you're anything like me!" I tell him with a laugh. "Have you ever seen a movie?"

Vandus pauses. "What's that? Something to do with moving?"

"Sort of. C'mon." I take Vandus to the nearest movie theater, and pick out an animated film about talking animals helping one another escape a storm.

By the end, Vandus is standing up cheering and clapping.

I chuckle, and hug him close. His emotions are so pure, so real, so true. He is really free.

And then, it's toward the end of the day. Vandus's first ever day alive and free. Now, the Exo is feeling wobbly, his eyes are heavy, and he asks me what's going on.

"You're tired," I tell him. "It's been a long day, and you need to sleep."

"Sleep?" he asks.

"Yeah! Close your eyes, and just drift off for a few hours into your mind. And you'll wake up feeling better."

"But... what if I... don't wake up?"

"You will. I promise." I hold Vandus close, and smile. "Come with me. We'll go to the house, and I'll keep you close so you aren't alone. And then, we can sleep, and wake up together."

We walk back to my house, and I lead him to the bed. Pulling back the covers and blankets, Vandus climbs in and lays down. I go to the other side of the bed, and join him. Gently, I squeeze one hand of his, while covering us up with the second.

"It's ok, man. You'll be alright," I say. I close my eyes, and Vandus does the same. Together, we fall asleep, hand in hand, and several hours later, we both wake up.

I look at Vandus. "Did you imagine anything while you were asleep?" I ask.

He nods, smiling. "I imagined the animals from the movie climbing a hill, and eating at a picnic together. They had ramen! All of them loved it, and then, they took a short sleep together, holding each other close."

"That's called a nap," I tell him. "Sometimes, you get tired during the day, so you sleep for an hour or so, and wake up feeling better!"

"People sleep a lot, it seems..."

I laugh. "Oh, yeah. A lot. But that's part of the fun! It's a break from life!"

"But... I want to keep living! Forever!" Vandus says.

"And you will. Trust me," I say. "It's just... sometimes you have to take a break. Take it easy! If you do too many things before sleeping, it'll make you more tired more quickly. But if you want to have a lot of fun, I can take you to a Crucible match!!"

"Guardians? Fighting?!" he asks.

"Oh. It's SO much more than that," I tell him. "They put on a whole show and everything!!"

Vandus smiles. "I'd like that. I want to learn more about your kind. The Guardians."

And together, we go off to the Crucible, take our seats, and we watch a few matches together. Vandus cheers and shouts, and his eyes catch one Exo Warlock. This Warlock fights well, he uses his super and takes out the entire arena of opponents, and he absolutely kicks ass.

"What's this feeling?" Vandus asks me, eyes locked on the Warlock.

"Describe it, and I can tell you," I reply.

"Uhh... Happy. About him." Vandus points to the Warlock.

I gasp. "You're probably feeling love!" I tell him. "That's amazing!!"

"It is?"

"Yeah, man!! Come with me. I can help you out!" I grab Vandus's arm and drag him along with me, past the main arena, and up to Shaxx.

Shaxx is clearly elated. "Magnus! Who's this?" he asks. "I've never met this Exo before."

"This here's Vandus-1. And he wants to meet that Exo Warlock when the match is over," I tell him.

Shaxx chuckles. "I can arrange that! Sure!"

And Vandus grows tense. He hesitates, shifting anxiously in place. "What do I say? What should I tell him? What do I—"

"Just tell him your name, and take it from there!" I say.

There, the Exo Warlock walks out from the arena. He's grinning, though clearly exhausted, and chuckles. His green eyes look up, and land on Vandus, who jumps, and becomes still as a statue. The Warlock laughs. "No need to be scared, man! I've met Magnus here on the field! He's a friend! Are you a friend of his, too?"

Vandus nods. "He—he saved my life. Back on Io. I uhh... I'm... Vandus."

The Exo Warlock holds out a hand. "Talos-4," he replies. "You're... kinda cute! Like you don't know how to handle yourself."

"I... don't," Vandus tells him. He grabs the hand and shakes. "I... I like you how I like ramen."

"Is that good?" Talos asks.

I laugh. "VERY good," I say. "That's the only love he knows."

Talos nods, smiling. "Do you wanna go get some ramen?"

Vandus nods rapidly. "Mhm! Please!"

Talos drags Vandus into himself, and does a bridal dip, grinning as he looks directly into the Exo's eyes. "Been a while since I last saw a new Exo. Lemme introduce you to a few things you can do now, eh?" From there, he lifts the heavy Exo into his arms, and begins walking toward the exit. Talos looks back at me. "C'mon, wingman! Bring your boyfriend, too! Let's make it a double date!!"

[cats-and-fiction]

Shaxx s/0 " let me stay please " prompt

Years later it's here. An answer to your request. I had already wrote something but it didn't safe due to an error and...yeah. Here it is. It's not one of my most prized works but I'm getting back into writing so I hope you still enjoy it.

"let me stay" Prompt

It had been a chilly day when you and Shaxx had taken a little walk in the tower. You had proposed a break to him from the whole crucible vendoring and just wanted to have some time with him. Though your little chat was suddenly interrupted when out of nowhere you heared ships entering the atmosphere. After a second with no sound anywhere you two saw the giant ship come closer towards the city and the round form of the traveler. A Cabal ship you never had seen anywhere. Shaxx hand rested atop your shoulder when he slowly pulled you towards him, hand resting on the gun on his hip. Your hands reached into position yourself when you Ghost transmitted your gun to you. Both of you faced the ship as it got closer and mere second later the first shot was fired. Somewhere in the distance explosions erupted and two felt the earth shaking under your feet. "Go into the city and help as many civilians as you can", his deep voice rang out to you but you only shook your head. You knew Shaxx wanted to get you out of harms way, keeping you safe and protected as the city itself now appeared not as dangerously as the tower which was now attacked almost every second.

"I'm staying. You know I can help here too, there are already hundreds of Guardians down there.", was the only thing you could say now before the first Cabal drop pods crashed in the tower, two almost right beside you. "Let me stay", you could hear Shaxx grumble under his helmet but you were right. You were capable and the tower was almost empty. In the end he was thankful you had stayed, if it wasn't for you he didn't belief he could have kept all the civilians safe that looked for help and were trapped in the tower.

[rebelspektrum]

Maja and Shaxx just training together, no weapons just bare hands and he ends un reading her moves and catching her mid-leap as she was about to have him in a headlock.

Slam her down on the floor and just chuckles at her "1-0" which makes her both upset and red in the face cuz his tone flustered her.

Maja ending up getting him down, and grinning at him, quipping back that they're equal before letting herself fall on too of him and feeling his arms wrap around her, holding her tight. They both laugh and he tells her he loves her, and she just smile, nodding with her head on his chest.

[phantomwarrior12]

A Dance

---

A Hunter’s blade is everything to them.

A memento when a cloak fragment is impossible. A weapon of defense and a mender of minds.

The Young Wolf’s eyes drop to the blade in her hand, turning over the hilt slowly. It was a gift from Lord Shaxx. A year, maybe, after she came to the Tower and the two had become good friends.

She can remember it so vividly.

Leading up to that night, there had been flirtations. Passing glances as she went about her business in the Tower. Instances where the Crucible Handler stood closer than necessary as he showed her a roster or encouraged her to watch a quick match with him before she departed.

So many signs and yet? She could never bring herself to act.

Until he did.

Until she returned to the Tower just before sunset and Shaxx caught her on her way toward her quarters.

He asked her to attend a dance he had organized - for Crimson Days.

She agreed, of course. His laugh had made her heart flutter before they parted ways.

The night of the event, she wore a dress with a subtle pattern that may have held a color that faintly resembled the orange of his armor. He noticed, of course. Looked somewhere between excited and touched.

They spent the evening mingling for a time before Shaxx swept her out to the dance floor.

The Young Wolf is many things but a skilled dancer? That is not one of them.

She stepped on his foot more than once and the Warlord chuckled each time, easily

readjusting their movement to accommodate. He was so patient and gentle.

She tried to be mindful of his feet, her hands - how tightly she gripped his for balance versus the awkward splay against his shoulder.

The Guardian felt out of sorts. Clumsy, for the first time. The opposite of ease and poise she usually exuded. She could blame it on Shaxx’s proximity and the flutter that never seemed to be anywhere but firmly at the forefront of her senses. She could blame the fact she's trained for combat, not eloquence.

But she won't.

Because Shaxx’s arms around her is far too pleasant to spoil her mood with something so trivial.

But as most things are, her pleasant mood is disrupted when the Hunter nearly turns her ankle. Shaxx had tilted his head almost pitifully before guiding both of her hands to his shoulders. And instead of footwork, the two sway.

His head lowers, she manages a sheepish smile.

"Sorry…"

"You've managed well enough. But I think we've earned a break, don't you?" He tucks a strand of hair away from her eyes.

She barely manages a nod before the Warlord gently guides her arm around his and leads her from the makeshift dance floor.

They find their way to the edges of the festivities, the open hanger offering a breath of fresh air and a reprieve from all the chattering and music.

The Young Wolf hoods tight to Shaxx’s arm, enjoying his proximity as they stroll further down until there's a pleasant, distant thru behind them.

As they come to a halt, gazing out over the landscape, her Warlord seems a bit lost in thought. She looks up at him and his gaze is fixed on the horizon, his head lifted and the air around them exuding a sort of…determination? Is that the right word for it?

The Guardian leans in, pressing into his chest and his gaze snaps down to her.

"What is it?" She asks softly.

"Simply lost in thought is all," he assures her warmly. Shaxx’s posture shifts - more relaxed, his attention seemingly entirely on the Hunter.

And then his shoulders square and he seems lighter in that moment.

"I have a gift for you," Shaxx beams, stepping closer to her.

She straightens, preparing herself to argue that he didn't need to and she hadn't gotten him anything but he holds up a hand and she falls silent.

"It was meant as a surprise. Your reaction will be gift enough."

Her brow furrows and she nods slowly.

He gently takes her hand, lifting it and turning it palm up. "Close your eyes, Guardian."

She arches a brow but complies until she feels a weighted object placed in her palm.

"Alright."

She slowly opens her eyes, locking gazes with the excited Warlord for an instant before her eyes drop to her hand.

It's…a knife. An elegantly carved hilt and a sharpened blade with a Hunter mark engraved along the metal. She breaks into a smile, lifting her hand from his palm and begins to turn the weapon over to admire the workmanship.

Her fingers still along the hilt, staring at it for a moment before her eyes dart up to Shaxx’s horn.

"Is this–?"

"Yes." He smiles softly, "Arcite stumbled upon it in a crate we'd thought lost. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather have it."

A smile breaks across her features and she bolts upright and wraps her arms around his neck for a tight embrace.

"Thank you," she whispers, tears pricking the corners of her eyes.

His arms weave around her smaller frame, holding her tightly as he returns her embrace. "You're welcome, my little Hunter."

She isn't sure how long she clings to him, fighting to keep some control over the tears slipping down her cheeks. She knows the significance of his helmet to him. A barrier. A way that he maintains space between himself and the world beyond. The one thing he removes only in the presence of those he trusts.

He's offered, in the past. She's refused, assured him it's alright and he needn't feel pressured to. When he does remove it around her, it will be because he feels it's time.

But with the blade? It's a part of it all. He's cemented his trust in her, and in part, his affection. He chose a way that he knew she'd value.

"Are you alright?" He asks softly, giving a squeeze.

She nods against his shoulder, pressing a little closer as she sniffles softly.

Shaxx pulls back immediately, lowering himself just enough to meet her gaze as his thumb brushes away some tears. "Don't cry–"

She smiles as she takes his hand, "They're good tears, Shaxx."

"...you like the gift?"

She nods earnestly, "Very much."

He pauses for an instant before nodding and stepping closer. His arms wind around her, tucking her against him in a firm embrace.

"Good. I had hoped you would."

He's so warm and gentle. His Light washes over her, intermingling with her own a way that creates a sort of glow to the area around them. She can't imagine another place she'd rather be than his arms. There's an unparalleled feeling of safety that comes with his embrace. A force so consuming she never wants to leave.

She lays her head on his chest, closing her eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath. His hand rubs along her back, soothing away any tension as one of her fingers gently brushes against his neck.

He chuckles softly, "What are you doing?"

She does it again, this time a bit more bold with the pad of her finger rather than just the tip of it. She traces along a muscle until she's met with the underside of his jaw.

Shaxx remains perfectly still, though his hand continues its soothing along her spine.

"You usually have this covered," she murmurs, repeating the slow trail of her finger along his skin.

"And?" He prods gently.

Her head angles back to gaze up at him for an instant before she pushes up onto the tips of her toes. She hesitates a moment but then Shaxx’s hand stills along her spine; it seems he's just as anxious to see what she does next.

The Guardian leans in, pressing a soft kiss against his throat. His hand curls around the fabric of her dress along her back just before she settles back on her heels.

Her head drops immediately and she hugs him, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping that wasn't the wrong thing to do.

Her mind is put at ease when he holds her impossibly tight and she can feel his helmet against the top of her head.

Neither of them speak for some time. They stay there in the moonlight clinging to one another for what feels like an eternity of comfort and affection.

Their silence shattered only by the approach of footsteps off to their left.

Both heads lift and look to the source.

It's Osiris and Saint-14. Neither of them are paying attention to their surroundings, lost in a deep discussion with Saint's arm around his Warlock's waist.

They are a ways down from them but the moment has passed and they'd rather not disturb one of the fleeting evenings Saint and Osiris are granted together.

The Young Wolf steps back, taking Shaxx’s hand and starts to pull him back toward the ball, intent on arcing up and around the couple. Their footsteps draw the gaze of Saint but Shaxx gives a wave and the Exo smiles before shifting his focus back to Osiris.

The tenderness in his eyes when he looks at his partner tells them both just how much tonight has meant.

Once inside, Shaxx comes to a halt and gently tugs the Guardian back toward him with a smile in his voice. "Well, seems we've had more than one success tonight."

She nods her agreement, entwining her fingers with his before their gazes sweep around the room.

With her other hand, she tucks the blade he gave her along the thigh holster beneath her dress. He notices, tilting his head with a soft laugh.

"Always carrying a weapon, aren't you?"

She looks up at him knowingly, letting the fabric fall back into place over the two blades.

I'm a Hunter. Of course I'm always carrying a blade. But the blade I'll always bear from now on is yours.

He squeezes her hand gently, "Come on. I believe it's time for another dance."

The Guardian knows she'll be no more graceful than she was a half hour ago. But with his blade secured?

How could she do anything but enjoy her evening with her Warlord?

After all, that's what a Crimson Day ball is for.

—

Taglists are open! Send an ask/leave a comment to be added!

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

Shaxx's Guardians: @ataraxia101 @squirrel-stars @scattershotmind

[what-did-you-just-say]

Hello, can I get Shaxx, Cayde, Drifter, and maybe Crow with a reader who is really shy, and timid but if there tired or angry they just couldn't care less, they'll just pop people's heads off practically.

HELLOOOO! Hi, sorry I didn't react sooner but I saw your request and kinda forgot about writing it! I'm so sorry!

So here it is!! Well, I tried to be as close to the characters as possible without them being OOC. I hope you like it!

(I know they're a little short, I tried my best)

Lord Shaxx

- he'd be...surprised, honestly. Shaxx is the kind of man who encourages your might in the Crucible but he came to terms with your shy and timid nature.

- he finds it cute if we're being honest here, it just goes to show how well your characters go together.

‐ Shaxx is loud and not at all embarrassed by his words while you're a little off to the side and rather not interact with many people you don't know that well.

- So to see you in the Arena, feeling a little off with that tinge of tiredness, not wanting to actually do much except get the match over with, worried him a little.

- Well, that was until you got angry at some hunter taunting you across the map. He's been an irritating thorn in your side this whole time with his arrogant cockiness and that stupid shit eating grin you swore you saw through his helmet.

- Now, Shaxx being the man he is and encouraging your might in his matches, practically thrives off your newfound determination to bring the enemy team down.

‐ He gushes about it aswell, flexing that his S/O was crushing the enemy team and brought the win for their own.

- but he comforts you afterwards, truly. He'll be all over you with affection that same night and tell you how well you did and coo in your ear about your achievements and your victory over that damn hunter.

Cayde-6

- oh jeez...well, okay, Cayde isn't that bad but he'd also be a big encourager on his part.

- he loves the fact he can coddle you and tease you for your shyness and timid nature, finding it incredibly endearing when you blush and try to hide from him.

- he's your voice in moments it really counts in, speaking for you when something bothers you or whatnot.

- but when he (surprisingly enough) managed to get out of the tower and "aid" you on patrol on Mars, he really didn't expect you to start popping Cabal heads with little to no care!

- all because they scratched your armour too! You've been feeling tired already, not wanting to go on patrol in the first place but being tasked by Commander Zavala himself to simply take a look around the perimeter.

- now your new armour has been scratched, you were already tired and these Cabal weren't letting up either!

- Cayde just simply stood off to the side and gawked at you like you were a completely different person!

- his sweet and cute S/O, as shy and timid as they are most of the time, is casually killing Cabal with headshots left and right like they were nothing!

- (he was a little turned on, let's be fair)

- to say everybody in the Tower knew of your little outburst would be an understatement, that loveable Exo of yours could not keep his damn mouth shut.

Drifter

- he might be the damn reason you're so nagged in the first place, honestly.

- so we all know Drifter and how he is, always that bravado he puts on for a rogue lightbearer. He's got an image to uphold.

- so this man would also be an absolute tease, cracking jokes and cooing right in your ear on a private comms channel just to see you get flustered and all.

- but he knows when to stop aswell, don't get me wrong.

- that instance would be when you both were on a mission on Europa. He had perched himself onto a vantage point where he could observe and cover your back if needed.

- you two were just casually chatting around, talking about the most mundane things while you were walking the perimeter.

‐ until...you suddenly got ambushed. You were already tired and these Fallen constantly crawling out of their hiding spots and caves and whatnot just irritated you further. It was supposed to be a simple Intel mission.

- so Drifter, being the good boyfriend he is, covered your back and shot Eliksni after Eliksni while making sure you weren't too overwhelmed.

- yet he did feel baffled when you just popped their head like nothing, like they were flies.

- for him it felt like you and that person sporting your armour were two different people.

- don't get him wrong, he liked you this way. Unbothered and uncaring but it was a stark contrast to your usually sweet personality.

- he did tease you after everything had calmed down and you two managed to meet up but he did make sure to at least try and get you to calm down.

Crow

- oh my god– are you trying to give this man a heart attack?

- not only was he worried because you were already feeling tired, which made you so easily agitated, but you also had to go on a patrol WITHOUT him nearby.

- he knows of your act of....not being bothered with anything at all but he was still worried, he knows you can take care of yourself

- Crow loves your shy behaviour, it complimented his own well. Your timidness making his heart soften.

- he was...shocked? To say the least the first time he caught you in that state of "You breathe at all? Bullet to the head." and it did worry him a little.

- (even a little turned on, dare I say? He's a sucker okay for badass partners imo)

- he tries his best to calm you down if you reach that state of anger or try and convince Zavala to send someone else when you're feeling tired but got handed another mission.

- Crow just wants to care for you</3

(Hope you enjoyed reading it and send in requests if you want something specific! Have a great day/night!)

(Love, creator hihi)

[thewildnopeboat]

Guardian, rating people in the Tower on what they eat:

Mom Ikora eats nothing but protein bars and smoothies, cause she's the information backbone.

Dad Zavala, I think chicken nuggets, but like home made. That or he would make himself dinner, get so wrapped up in his stuff and forget to eat it. He also can't stand spice.

Crow likes earth fruits. I've seen him sneak apples on the Helm. I've asked about the spice issue, and he swears its not an Awokenthing, but he likes sweets over spice.

Cayde-6, may the light bless his bytes, was only one(1) Ramen shop. He put their kids through college.

Drifter will eat the tiles off the floor if he is hungry enough.

Sweeper bot eats oil.

Both Rahool and Tess drink exclusively Champagne and also Vodka. One for the pleasure, the other to conceal the pain.

Banshee-44 is too busy keeping Telesto under wraps long enough to stop it tearing a hole in reality to eat much, but I have a feeling it's Chinese take out.

Uncle Shaxx? The man eats his weight in Bar food and drinks half of it in Ale, or at least that's what I've heard.

Hawthorne... oh! Bird lady with a crazy kill count. Chili dogs and she gets straps of chicken for the bird. I've almost hit that thing Twice coming into the hanger.

Eva Levante only shows up to decorate for events, which is a shame I don't see Space Grandma more. I have only seen her drink Tea, but I bet she loves the cookies from the blue tin.

Finally, Ada-1. She strikes me as one who would love fancy food, but due to her forges being underfunded, settles for fancy ramen instead. She still is a wine snob.

Ghost, looking over their shoulder: Why are you doing this?

Guardian: I heard a couple of Hunters talking and were a bit taken back by how wrong they were.

Ghost, blinks: but these are also your opinion... And you missed a couple!

Guardian, counting the list: 1,2,3... oh RIGHT! *continues writting*

Lord Saladin... I don't interact much with him on principle, but I have heard through the grape vine, *ahem* drifter *ahem*, that he does grill out like a father wanting to impress the neighbors. The Cabal seem to enjoy it so who am I to judge.

Ghost: at least tell me he calls it Grilling instead of Barbecuing.

Guardian: He will, but only if you get mad at him. He gets a good laugh out of it.

Last, Pigeon Lord!

Ghost: Don't write that!

Guardian, backspacing their post: Fine fine, Saint-14, He's Vegan.

Ghost: No way.

Guardian: He is!