#hive eris is hot

[zephyrdagonheart]

Y'all.

I need the entire Destiny community to HEAR. ME. THE FUCK. OUT.

#destiny 2 #destiny #destiny the game #please #just listen #for a second #hive eris is hot #hot as hell #hot as fuck even #i would smash if i could #i'd smash the fuck out of her

[nightcourtreader]

Azriel’s shadows

Like I have seen a lot of theory’s and things about Azriel’s shadows. Which includes that the shadows protect Elain, that his shadows hide when azriel feels safe or comfortable, his shadows are there to protect him and that’s why they are around & disappear around certain people, that it is a good thing that his shadows disappear, that he’s going to get rid of his shadows and a lot of other stuff. These arguments can all be easily disproven if you just read the series.

I personally think that Azriel’s shadows are sentient. They have their own thoughts and opinions but they are also an extension of Azriel and his moods and behavior. Like they can clearly communicate with Azriel effectively and Azriel even mentions how they tell him to sleep and that they like to warn about him things.

So here’s a list of descriptions of Azriel shadows throughout the entire series, including his bonus chapter.

Acomaf

* “Azriel’s brows flicked up with approval as the shadows seemed to wrap tighter around him. As if he were the dark hive from which they flew and returned” (pg 160, ACOMAF)

• So rhys told them of the cauldron, and the reasons behind the temple pillagings, to no shortage of swearing and questions—and revealed nothing of what I had admitted in exchange for the information. Azriel emerged from his wreathing shadows to ask the most questions; his face and voice remained unreadable. (Page 205, ACOMAF)

* The spymaster had waited in silence. I tried not to look too uncomfortable as he scooped me into his arms, those shadows that whispered to him stroking my neck, my cheek (pg 240, ACOMAF)

* People often made the mistake of assuming Cassian was the wilder one; the one who couldn’t be tamed. But Cassian was all hot temper—temper that could be used and forge and weld. There was icy rage in Azriel I had never been able to thaw. In the centuries I’d known him, he’d said little about his life, those years in his father’s keep, locked in darkness. Perhaps the shadow singer gift had come to him then, perhaps he’d taught himself the language of shadow and wind and stone. (Page 275, ACOMAF)

* The shadows gathered around his shoulders, like they were indeed whispering to him, shielding him, perhaps. His broad chest expanded with a deep breath that sent them skittering, and then he set into an easy, graceful stroll after them. (pg 285, ACOMAF)

* Azriel, wreathed in shadows by the front door, chuckled quietly. Cassian shot him a glare. “I don’t see you spouting poetry, brother.” Azriel crossed his arms, still smiling faintly. “I don’t need to resort to it.” (Page 392, ACOMAF)

Acowar

* “Azriel arrived first, no shadows to be seen, my sister a pale, golden mass in his arms. Elain’s golden brown hair snagging in some of the black scales across his chest and shoulders” (pg 253, ACOWAR)

* “Shadows curled around Azriel’s shoulders, whispering in his ear as he stared down Eris (pg 270, ACOWAR)

* “I can help her,” said Azriel, stepping to the table as Elain silently rose. No shadows at his ear, no darkness ringing his fingers as he extended a hand” (Pg 315, ACOWAR)

* Azriel squeezed, Eris thrashing beneath him. No physical brawling—there had been a rule against that, but Azriel, with whatever power those shadows gave him..perhaps those shadows that now slid and eddied around the Shadowsinger hid him from the wrath of the binding magic. The others made no move to interfere, as if wondering the same. (Page 428, ACOWAR)

•While shadows gathered around Azriel, Elain at his side, wide eyed at the spymaster’s display” (pg 479, ACOWAR)

* Azriel silently faded into blackness—until he was my own shadow and nothing more. (Page 566, ACOWAR)

* Azriel stepped out of a shadow. “What is that,” he hissed. My brows rose. “You hear it?” A shake of the head. “No—but the shadows, the wind…they recoil. (Pg 560, ACOWAR)

* “That smile grew, bright enough that it lit up even Azriel’s shadows across the room” (Pg 693, ACOWAR)

Acofas

* Az, too—in the strange way that Az could move through the world without technically winnowing. He’d never asked. Azriel certainly had never explained. (Page 22, ACOFAS)

* A corner of Azriel’s mouth curled up, the shadows about him sliding over his neck living living tattoos, twins to the Illyrian ones marked beneath his leathers. (pg 66, ACOFAS)

* Shadows different from anything my powers summoned, spoke to. Born in a lightless, airless prison meant to break him. Instead he had learned it’s language (pg 66, ACOFAS)

“the illyrians are pieces of shit,” he said too quietly. Shadows gathered around his wings, trailing off him and onto the thick red rug. (Page 67, ACOFAS)

Acosf

* Nesta straightened at the shadowsinger’s appearance, the darkness clinging to his shoulders as he offered her a grim smile. (Pg 100, ACOSF)

Azriel was nothing short of beautiful. Even with those scarred hands and the shadows that flowed from him like smoke. (Page 100, ACOSF)

* She set down her teacup. “Is that a threat, Shadowsinger?” Azriel said coolly, “I don’t need to resort to threats.” The shadows coiled around him, snakes ready to strike. (Pg 101, ACOSF)

* Azriel chuckled, shadows skittering. “Did you listen at all last night?” (Pg 221, ACOSF)

• His brother nodded. “Fine.” But shadows still swarmed him. (Page 221, ACOSF)

* “No one spoke, though shadows gathered in the corners of the room, like shadows preparing to strike” (Pg 233, ACOSF)

* He jerked his chin toward Azriel. “Why are you up here?” “I thought I’d do some training myself before heading out for the day,” Az said, his shadows lingering in the archway, as if fearful of the bright sunlight in the ring. (pg 250, ACOSF)

• A shadow curled around Azriel’s neck, the only one brave enough to face the sunlight. “Something like that.” (pg 252, ACOSF)

• Azriel blushed and stepped back, shadows swirling. (Page 603, ACOSF)

• Gwyn asked Az, her teal eyes bright, “what do we get if we finish the course?” Az’s shadows danced around him. (Page 623, ACOSF)

* “There are plenty of other unspeakable things that could be happening to her,” Cassian said, voice thickening. “To Emerie and Gwyn.” The shadows deepened around Azriel, his siphons gleaming like cobalt fire. (Page 688, ACOSF)

* Even Azriel’s own shadows kept tucked behind his wings. Koschei laughed, and Azriel stiffened. Like his shadows had murmured a warning. (Pg 710, ACOSF)

Azriel’s bonus chapter

• Sleep, they seemed to whisper in his ear. Sleep. I wish I could, he answered silently. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

• But even the silence weighed too heavily, and though the shadows kept him company, as they always had, as they always would. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

• Elain sucked in a breath that whispered over his skin. His shadows skittered back at the sound. They’d always been prone to vanish when she was around. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

• he had only allowed himself these thoughts in the dead of night. Had only allowed his hand to fist his cock and think about her then, when even his shadows had gone to sleep. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

* He aimed for the training pit, giving in to the need to work off the temptation, the rage and frustration and writhing need. He found it already occupied. His shadows had not warned him. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

* “It’s fine. I came to retrieve something I forgot.” The lie was smooth and cool, as he knew his face was. His shadows peered over his wings at her. The young priestess smiled—and Azriel thought it might have been directed at his curious shadows. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

* “How was the party?” Her breath curled in front of her mouth, and one of his shadows darted out to dance with it before twirling back to him. Like it heard some silent music. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

I blame Cassian for this. He’s too busy making eyes at Nesta to notice such mistakes these days.” Azriel laughed. “I’ll give you that.” Gwyn smiled broadly. “Thank you.” Azriel dipped his head in a sketch of a bow, something restless settling him. Even his shadows had calmed. As if content to lounge on his shoulders and watch. (Azriel’s bonus chapter)

* Gwyn nodded farewell, again facing the ribbon. A warrior sizing up an opponent, all traces of that charming irreverence gone. Azriel entered the warmth of the stairwell, and as he descended, he could have sworn a faint, beautiful singing followed him. Could have sworn his shadows sang in answer. (Azriel’s bonus chapter )

So the question is where in the text does it prove that Azriel’s shadows protect Elain? Protection definitions include keeping safe, keeping from harm, defend, shield, take care of, care after. They never left Azriel’s person to protect anyone. The only person they directly touched in this series was Feyre. They tend to vanish around Elain’s presence, like 98% as confirmed by Azriel himself. So how are they there to protect her when they tend to vanish when she’s around? You can’t protect someone you are not around. His shadows turning into snakes ready to strike in the corner is not them protecting Elain, it’s them reacting off Azriel’s mood, because we’ve seen the shadows do the exact same thing when nesta asked Azriel was that a threat in the beginning of acosf and he answered nesta coldly without Elain even being there.

The next theory. That the shadows hide when Azriel/they feel safe. Like 98% of the time Azriel’s shadows are out when it comes to the IC, Feyre, nesta, the Valkyries and the women he’s training in acosf. So if they hide when Azriel feels safe, why don’t they hide when he’s around his family, friends, the women from the library that he’s training?

Azriel’s has known Rhys, Cassian & Mor for 500+ years and going based off that logic, why doesn’t Azriel feel safe around his brothers to the point his shadows don’t disappear? Because we can see they tend to hide around Mor as well. Is it just women? If that’s the fact then why don’t they disappear around nesta? Gwyn? Emerie? What about the new trainees from the library that can’t physical hurt him because he’s been trained to fight his whole life and they haven’t? Because mind you, he’s helping train women that’s in the library and we all know the reasons why they are in the library and wanted Azriel’s help to train. So why would they be a threat to Azriel?

Do we know what his shadows did when he was around Koschei in acosf? A literally death god, that’s a threat who is planning to take over prythian? They hid behind Azriel’s wings. Do we know what his shadows did when they heard the cauldrons “siren song” that led Elain away from the camp to get kidnap by hybern’s camp? They recoiled. You know what recoil means. It means drawing back or jumping back. That means when Azriel’s shadows come into contact or around things they don’t seem safe, they hide, not the other way around.

Why do his shadows dance in Gwyn’s presence? Why did Azriel say that his shadows felt calm and he felt something restless settle within him when he talks to Gwyn and his shadows didn’t disappear but lounged on his shoulders instead like they were just content to be there? He and his shadows obviously felt safe enough to stay and talk with gywn after she gave azriel an out to leave.

So all this literally debunks the fact that Azriel’s shadows disappear when he feels safe because there is no reason why Azriel shouldn’t feel safe in the presence of his family & friends. But they hide and recoil when it comes to true danger and manipulation. I don’t think that them vanishing and skittering back makes Elain to be a bad person or a threat to Azriel but it’s telling that SJM mentioned in Azriel’s bonus chapter that the shadows tend to vanish around Elain and that Azriel does his weird freaky stuff with that damn headache powder only in the dead of night when his shadows are gone to sleep.

To me personally, it seems that Azriel finds solace in his shadows. They comfort him. His shadows are his companions. They were there even before he met Rhys & Cassian, meaning they’ve been with him 520+ years. They are not something to get rid off, they are a literally apart of Azriel’s identity as to why he’s a shadow singer and a spy master. He himself stated that they will ALWAYS be apart of him. Azriel is a grown fae that can protect himself without his shadows, they don’t need to protect him. They help him more than anything.

Azriel has been described to work best in the shadows. That he doesn’t like to be the center of attention to the point where he doesn’t even like opening up presents with his family because he doesn’t like the attention on him. His shadows help him hide from peoples view better, why wouldn’t he be comfortable in them and find comfort with them being out and surrounding him?

I understand wanting to argue for a ship and stuff but literally coming up with lies and false information to make it seem like something is more than what it is when you can easily pick up the books to disprove these arguments is ridiculous.

#azriel’s shadows #azriel acotar #azriel bonus chapter #acowar #acomaf #acosf #elain archeron #gwyneth berdara #the inner circle acotar #azriel spymaster #azriel shadowsinger

[sleepyserena]

i love the seasons where eris is like "hold up, lemme do some hot girl shit" and proceeds to tap into the depths of hive magic

#destiny 2 #season of the witch #season of the witch spoilers

[a-driftamongopenstars]

tea party; drifteris ficlet

just wanted to write a tea party for Eris okay 🥺

A dainty trail of steam rises from a simple cup. It is warm in the cup of her hands as Eris raises it to her lips and takes a sip of the hot flowery drink. The taste fills her mouth, every sense touched upon - and it makes her smile.

Across the table, the Drifter repeats her motions, drinking his own tea, his eyes fixed on Eris.

They sit in quiet contemplation of her room, darkened with evening windowless shadows. Only a scatter of Hive bulbs and glyphs glow here and there, eerie green. But the quiet is welcome, for Eris rarely got to enjoy it - until now.

"This is a good brew," Eris says.

"Thought you might like it. Nothing like a cup of jasmine tea to make your day better and to wake you up."

"Hmm," she agrees, taking another sip.

After a few more, she settles the cup on the table. Her hands rest in her lap, holding tightly onto her eyewrap.

The Drifter plucks the small kettle off the table and refills their cups with the golden brew, swirling leaves getting caught within.

"Next time I'm bringing oolong."

Next time.

"You are very serious about this tea party business. As serious as about your Gambit."

The Drifter laughs.

"When the world's about to end, you don't wanna let all this go to waste. Besides, I heard you wanted tea, and tea I've got."

Eris picks her steaming refilled cup and swirls the tiny leaves that escaped from the teapot. She feels her face warm with a small smile, something her muscles forget they can do, but more and more it happens when the Drifter is near.

"Thank you," she says quietly but earnestly. For many things, for being there, for listening and for hearing her. Eris knows those things don't need to be spelled out, he knows.

The Drifter leans on the table, hiding his face in the shadow, but his voice is a-smiling too.

"It's fine. Wait till you try this jasmine tea cold. A whole new world!"

#had this sitting in my drafts.. releasing this into the world #because idk if I can do anything more with this #Anyway I love jasmine tea #drifteris #destiny 2 #Eris x drifter #fanfiction #driftcreates

[gnostichor]

That Hopeful Alchemy

Eris stepped out into the evening air of the Tower, the warm mug of mulled cider in her hands a welcome bulwark against the rapidly cooling weather. Festival of the Lost had just begun, and something about those celebrations made it feel like it was always evening in the Tower. She walked in between paper lanterns and decorated gourds, effigies of reverence to the autumnal harvests and the spirits of those we have had to leave behind: the semiotics of change and time's stubborn procession.

Historically, Eris had found little of value in such pageantry; what could someone truly know of loss, she would assure herself, if they thought it transmutable by the exchange of confectionery and the carving of winter squash? This year, however, her steps were not quite as heavy, her glances less cutting. Her trials in the athenæum and the oubliette—just as they had peeled away the chitinous plates from her body—had served to abrade some of the more calloused edges of her preconceived notions about modern life in the City.

Where she had once seen frivolity and unearned levity, she began to see catharsis and a different sort of magic: that transmutative rending of a source of grief and sorrow not into a weapon designed to spread more of the same, but a scalpel to be turned on itself so that the flesh may heal. She had begun to appreciate and respect the poetry of that hopeful alchemy.

Out of the corner of her left-most eye, Eris saw a woman waving to her. An older woman. Eva Levante, she noted, the cheermonger. Eris took a sip from her mug and let the kind embrace of the rising steam give her the courage to approach the grinning woman.

"Hello, Eva." Eris said, doing her best to unflatten her affect. "As ever, the efforts you and the other citizens put into the decoration is commendable."

"Hello dear, and thank you," Eva replied, her impish smile never fading. "You're looking quite well, if you don't mind me saying." "I do not mind, and thank you—I am in fact feeling quite well. An auspicious symmetry."

Raising her hand to her mouth, Eva laughed quietly, but never dropped the mirthful grin.

"How can I help you, Eva?" Eris raised the mug to her lips, sipping. "So, been any Hive gods, lately?" Eva finally let out with a titter.

An awful sound emanated from Eris' mug: the sound of someone bursting into laughter as they are sipping hot mulled cider.

#eris morn #eva levante #festival of the lost #fotl #destiny fanfiction #destiny the game #destiny 2 #my writing

[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.

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

[ceo-of-sloppy-men]

Idk if you have answered these before but I’d love to see any head canons with Eris and a S/O. Up to you for gender expression, if it’s sfw or nsfw, human or alien.

I just love having Eris content :3 cheers!

I feel like this song is very Eris

She does not like to be touched without warning. Either wait for her to touch you or ask first, or you will be blasted with hive magic

She will look absolutely terrifying down hallways in the middle of the night. Just three glowing eyes.

She says the most random shit like “I can feel the movement of my joints in my sockets and they sound like sonnets” which roughly translates to “my body fucking hurts, I need a hot bath and a nap”

It took several months (if not a year) for her to show you her face. It’s an extreme level of trust to show her least favourite part of herself to someone.

She doesn’t keep mirrors anywhere in her ship apart from a tiny pocket mirror to check her veil

Rather than touch, she prefers if you sit with her and listen to whatever she feels like telling. Fragments of her past, and her horrifying time in the Hellmouth.

She’s lonely in the silence when she leaves the moon so she often plays music to compensate- only if you’re there, though. She doesn’t trust the world to be safe on her own with music.

If you’re a Titan, she feels a little better in your company knowing that you can bring up a shield at a moments notice

If you’re a warlock, she will often request you get things from the archives for her, or divest extra energy into telling you painstaking details she has researched

If you’re a hunter… she will try on your armour sometimes when she believes she is alone. Offer her a knife to throw or wash the two of you in a smoke bomb.

If she’s about to have a panic attack she will grab your hand and clutch it as tight as she can. Grounding herself in you.

Please take her silent plea to heart and find somewhere quiet she can calm down in

#eris morn x reader #eris morn #destiny 2 headcanons

[awokennerd]

So spoilers ahead for the new destiny showcase! It's just my first impressions and it's not really cohesive

Gosh, the hype is real! If there is one thing the marketing team is very good at, is selling Destiny!

So, first off! I absolutely love how they have the voice over of the trailer as Ghost. We have dragged our little buddy through so much, and it's nice to hear his perspective on things.

Next! No new darkness subclass? I'm kinda surprised, but I'm super duper hyped by the warlock solar buddy! I don't care about any other detail about subclasses! I repeat WARLOCK SOLAR BUDDY IS FINALLY CANON!

Eris fusing with Xivu was kinda out of left field, but having two waifus fuse with one another is kinda hot! Also, seems like we won't rez Savvy right away. I figured it would be a lot of hive magic shenanigans this season. I just wasn't expected Xivu this season, even tho I probably should have been. Also, seems like Ikora is only in one cutscene again...rip my girl

Also, I don't care about Crotas End in D2, cause I don't raid, BUT I do care a lot that Crotas End armor is in the game! I absolutely love the armor set after finding it online one day and I am so happy it's coming to D2 and there is a chance I could use it.

Also, this whole Episodes things after the Final Shape will be interesting. Like, will we still have major DLCs or just Episodes? But! I am happy that they are kinda their own separate things in a way, because I think they can do some fun stories beyond the main series. Though I wonder if they'll do a few years of Episodes and then do a new Destiny saga. They did say that the Final Shape is only ending the first saga, so it seems like they're cooking something. I also wonder if they'll make a new destiny game post Final Shape? Maybe a few years with Episodes and then a new fresh game? I guess we'll see.

#The Final Shape #Destiny Episodes #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #d2 #chatter #Season of the Witch #Crotas End

[xazz]

get ready for my hottest of hot takes you’re ever gonna read bc the general headcanons are boring

oh scary old Hive man who purposefully made himself look as scary as humanly possible so Guardians would be afraid of him. Got weird growths on his head or three eyes or looks half Hive

Toland convinced 5 people to trust his ass to take them down into a Hellmouth where he was going to leave them to die. Eriana was full of the need for vengeance but she wasn’t stupid okay. She was a Praxic Warlock and they abhor the Darkness in all things. She wouldn’t have trusted Toland if he looked categorically off the fucking deep end and like he desperately wanted to bang a Hive Wizard.

Toland was, at the very least, attractive and young looking. The type of bastard who’s got a pretty face and knows how to sometimes swallow his wicked sharp tongue and say nice things to you so you’ll shut up for half a second so you’ll listen to him. And if he doesn’t go into a full on rant he’s pretty convincing and charismatic. Toland desperately wanted to be taken seriously and listened to by his peers (or pretty much anyway) but had been so ridiculed for it he turned into a horrible toxic person. Toland is the pretty face, fucking rancid personality who might act nice to you if you give him space to talk about the Hive. Which Eriana let him and he convinced her and a fireteam that yeah, he’d take them down into the Pit, he’d lead the way, he’d get them their vengeance. And they fucking believed him. You don’t get that if you’re a rambling mad man. Eriana was dead set on avenging her girlfriend but from the way Eris talks about the others... they just kinda went along with it. They weren’t there for revenge. They were there for Eriana. If Toland had been a half Hive weirdo they would have had the self awareness to say ‘hey lets not. Or at least not with this guy’.

Broke: Toland’s a crusty old man covered in Hive shit who rambles about the the Darkness, Sword Logic, and the Hive

Woke: Toland is just Handsome Man 3 preset with a fucked up obsession and the worst toxic personality you can imagine

#destiny 2 #toland #headcanons #this is all a little tongue and cheek #no beef if you think toland is a crusty old man #like he def deserves it #way more than osiris #but pretty face actually evil is such a good trope and should be used more #you expect the guy named Worm who looks like a fucked up catfish to be evil #but not Generic Man 3 preset #he's gotta be good #right?

[synnthamonsugar]

Mara & Eris, 14?

14. When I wasn’t meant to hear

The Awoken are practiced at walking between the realms of Light and Darkness, and perhaps that is why Eris finds herself at ease in their presence.

She was fearful of her reception when she first arrived in the Reef, shadowing The Queen when she could, sequestering herself when she couldn't, but quickly discovered such caution is excessive. In the Last City, glowing eyes and a covered face set her apart, but here she almost fits in among the veiled and augmented Techeuns and Corsairs. The impact of three eyes is, perhaps, dampened on those used to interacting with beings with four. (How strange, as someone raised at the height of humanity's conflict with the eliksni, to feel safer because of their presence.)

Because of this, she is comfortable exploring the elegant promenades of the Vestian Outpost on her own in between her work with Mara. Beneath gold-trimmed purple canopies she dines on delicacies foreign to human palates, reads chronicles and epics that are staples of Reef literature but remain unknown back on earth, developing both an appreciation of their society and grim understanding for why the Great Navigator has turned his sights on them. Occasionally, people will stare, but she faces little public scrutiny otherwise. A welcome reprieve from the thinly-shrouded gossip in the Tower.

Still, doubt lingers. She asks herself whether in seeking acceptance she has deluded herself into believing she has found some measure of it. The Queen calls her Hunter, speaks with her in confidence, but she wonders if it is a ploy, or something worse: pity.

She is walking back to her quarters late one evening when she notices the door to Mara's office ajar. Soft light and voices seep from the crack, just loud enough to capture her attention.

" — in the City, I heard stories," she catches a fragment spoken by Petra Venj, and she stops in her tracks as sour unease settles in her. She is accustomed enough to being whispered about to have almost an extra sense for it. "I do not wish to lend credence to rumors, but as your Wrath I have a duty to discuss the matter with you, regardless of how far-fetched it is."

There is a short pause. Eris listens with held breath and sinking heart.

Petra sighs. "The Speaker fears she has been corrupted by Darkness. Others whisper of compromise by the hive. Are you certain that she is to be believed? Entrusted with our greatest secrets?"

"Guardians spin endless tales about that which they cannot understand. A pastime they enjoy nearly as much as killing." Mara's voice resonates against the ambient din of the outpost. "Would you heed their facile rumors about me?"

"Never," she sounds flustered now, more than that, conciliatory — "I trust you, My Queen —"

"Then you should have no trouble believing Eris Morn. I trust her not only with our secrets, but with my very life."

The absolute certainty in Mara's voice hits Eris like a bolt of energy, at once enlivening and comforting. Her heart thumps and skin prickles — not the hot, uncomfortable sting of embarrassment but a sensation of genuine warmth, an invisible embrace in unseen arms.

"Understood. That is all I needed to hear, Your Grace."

By the time the Queen's Wrath reaches the door, Eris has disappeared into the shadows, a pleasant glow still radiating in her chest.

#*chews on eris' and mara's friendship like a fruit leather to sustain me in harsh environments* #destiny #eris morn #mara sov #petra venj #synnth fic

[aspectofnine]

Yuè Qīan Shuǎng trudges into her quarters, weary, worn, and definitely reeking of Hive and their worms.

She hates how…funky the Hive are. The Brood, the Hidden Swarm, even the damned Lucents, they are all just funky.

She wonders if Eris Morn and Toland tolerate it or hate it as well.

Speaking of a certain non-corporeal former Warlock…

“I’m in need of a very long and hot shower,” she announces to the air, peeling off armor pieces for her Ghost, Warren, to transmat away for cleaning. “Because I smell like the bowels of the Dreadnaught right now,” she adds with a laugh.

Toland's ears perk up from his study and pushes his chair over to the door way, a heavy rolling of the chair being one of a few noises coming from his room. "A shower, you say?" He does not even need to show his face to let anyone within an earshot of him to see him grin from ear to ear. Something about the sensual calmness of taking a warm shower with your lover always brightened his mood.

"I hope there is enough room for two-" he calls out in a sing song tone. "If not, I'm sure we can make room." He lets out a hearty laugh.

#toland: mai waif... hi #deathsdeserters #°• ♄ •° // TOLAND_RP

[night-dark-woods]

wip wednesday

thank u @siyurikspakvariisis for tagging me maybe posting this will make me work on them. my notes app constantly hovering menacingly and threateningly in my open apps has not been sufficient pressure.

not tagging anyone specific bc i just got out of work and my brain is swiss cheese, but if anyone would like to post wips please consider this your excuse.

posting in order of probable finish date:

1. working title God-Queen Euthanasia (thank u jackie for that <3)

Elsie could dance along the route to Mara's throne with her eyes closed, at this point. The Queen has been withdrawn in her throne world for decades now, Elsie her only visitor now that Eris, too, has passed. The remnants of Light in Eris's system and her dabblings with Hive magic had kept her living long beyond a normal Human lifespan, but even those powers have their limits. Now it's just her and Mara, two relics of the Golden Age who've long outlived their purposes.

She clatters up the last sweeping staircase to finally arrive at Mara's throne, out on a platform at the very edge so the Queen can sit with her back to the infinite reaches of stars and stare instead over the ruins of her exquisite ghost town.

She is working on a bouquet, like always, staring sightlessly past Elsie as her hands braid together asphodelia stems and golden thread, a bowl of amethyst crystals waiting on the arm of her throne beside her. As always, Elsie will offer to help refill it after Mara has explained why she has called her here; as always, Mara will refuse, wanting to wander by herself along the shattered pathways and make her lonely pilgrimage to the statues of her Wraths.

other wips under the cut bc nsfw:

2. working title Bitey Jail

"Petra."

"Yes, my lady?" Petra tilts her head back to meet Mara's eyes, which glint with amusement at the frustration clear on Petra's face.

"Don't look at me like that, my Wrath, you know full well why you are here."

Petra drops her eye from Mara's to stare at the evidence of her mistake, a deep purple bruise in the shape of her own jaw on her Queen's thigh. Two pinprick scabs mark the points where her canines had broken skin last night, royal blood trickling metallic and hot into her mouth.

"Yes, my lady," Petra grumbles.

Mara arches an eyebrow at her. "None of that. You will obey promptly and obediently, or you will be in even more trouble than you already are. You will sit here through my meetings. You will be silent. And maybe if you can comport yourself with the restraint and discipline befitting of your station, we can do away with the muzzle, hm?"

Petra wants to whine but knows she's on thin ice already, even though it's actually Sjur's fault she's in this predicament anyway.

3. no fun working title unfortunately just Sjur POV

Sjur finds a particularly dark one in the meat of Petra's pectoral muscle, in the soft dip right before it connects to her shoulder joint, and presses her thumb into it. Petra keens and arches into the pain, and Sjur slowly puts more and more pressure on the bruise until Petra is panting with it, writhing and bucking her hips and trying to roll to her side.

Sjur lets up and watches Petra try to catch her breath, trapped hands opening and closing on instinct to try to grab something to hold onto, legs braced against the bed to push her hips up. Before she fully recovers, Sjur digs her thumb into a different bruise, this one just below her collarbone. Petra swears and whines and tries to close her legs around Sjur's, to pull Sjur's thigh against her cunt, but she doesn't have nearly enough leverage.

Sjur repeats the cycle, following the line of purple bruises methodically across Petra's chest as she gets more and more worked up, her eye less and less focused each time she tries to glare at Sjur. Once Petra has stopped her futile attempts to get her hands back and is lying there shivering, Sjur finally lets go of her wrists and leans down to kiss her as a reward.

#my posts #writing tag #wips

[ahungeringknife]

365: May 8

@seventhscorpio

In case you were wondering tho, yes, their 'mothers' are conspiring lololol

--------

He found Savathun in the gardens almost a quarter her normal size. Very strange. Then he saw why. She was sitting at a metal table with a tea set and... some human looking food. His head cocked to the side as he came up to the table which was human sized. "You called me, your grace?" Dornuk asked.

"Ah yes, Dornuk," she said but wasn't looking at him. She was looking towards another entrance of the gardens. "I am having a guest. They are bringing a plus one. I want you to entertain them while we chat."

"... Very well," he said slowly. This wasn't what he was usually asked to do.

She turned to him, "You will stand to enjoy yourself," she chided him.

"I don't enjoy anything," he said deadpan knowing it would make her laugh. It did. He did enjoy that.

He waited off to the side for this guest. Who could it be? Maybe Kinox? With Xivu Arath dead she'd taken over her father's position as the leader of the Crimson Swarm with her mother. Savathun had her under constant watch to make sure Kinox and Omnigul didn't do anything foolish to disturb the tenuous peace the Hive had earned with the Guardians and the Light. Who would he have to entertain? Hopefully not Noornoon. Dornuk didn't like Noornoon. He was too clever for his own good and like how Savathun could talked circles around Dornuk. Dislike was perhaps a strong word but he didn't enjoy the old Acolyte's company.

They didn't have to wait long for a Lucent Acolyte to arrive in the garden leading two figures. "I brought them, Witch Queen. Am I done here?" the Acolyte asked.

"Yes yes. You may go," Savathun waved them away.

Dornuk looked at who the Acolyte had brought and felt the blood drain out of his face. What was Gup doing here? With his mother no less! Was she Savathun's guest? Of course she was!

"Eric," Savathun said, getting up from her chair. "You didn't bring Eris this time?"

"She threatened to actually learn the Death Song if I did," Eric sighed, still in her helmet.

"I would like to see that," Savathun said and beckoned her to the table.

"Eris isn't much a singer," Eric said. "Oh- you said it was alright if I brought Gup," she said noting there was only one extra chair.

"Yes," Savathun said and beckoned to Dornuk casually. He got to his feet and went over to the table folding his arms.

"Oh Dornuk," Eric waved to him. Then to Savathun she said, "You know Sav, they're both grown you don't have to arrange play dates." Hive couldn't blush but Dornuk's face just felt hot.

On the other side of the table Gup put a hand over his face and said with a pained groan, "Mom. Please."

Savathun laughed. "Yes but I must have my hands in all plans," she cooed.

"I guess," Eric sighed. She turned and signed to Gup in a way Dornuk didn't know. He knew her type of Guardian had several types of sign language and he wasn't privy to this one. Neither, it seemed, was Savathun because she didn't look like she understood either. Gup just nodded along. "Alright then," and Eric sat at the table.

Gup came around the table and Dornuk hated he was taller than Dornuk. He'd always been a bit taller than him as an Acolyte but now as a Knight he was much taller. It wasn't fair at all. "I guess we gotta let the old ladies talk," Gup told Dornuk. Then like they were still children Gup just grabbed his hand and pulled him away to go play. Dornuk almost dug his feet in. The audacity! But he also did not want anyone seeing him if he made a fool of himself so went with him. He missed that both Savathun and Eric were watching them go.

Gup let go of his hand once there was a hedge between them and the little tea party. Dornuk was instantly annoyed. "What is all this?" he asked, indicating Gup's new morph.

"Hmm? My morph?" he said slowly, confused.

"You didn't tell me you were taking your morph," he took it as a personal slight. Maybe if he knew it'd be happening he wouldn't be so blindsided by the fact that his annoying friend was hot!

Gup scratched at part of the chitin covering his mouth awkwardly. "I didn't know," he admitted.

Dornuk scoffed. "Of course. You never know anything," and he stalked off. What a typical Gup answer.

Gup went after him. "Okay I sort of knew. I just didn't think my mom would say yes. She's been real against me taking a morph."

"Yes because she wants to baby you," Dornuk said, old jealousy making him bitter. Which was silly because he wasn't jealous! Not anymore. But all these new feelings were making him mean again.

"Well Guardians don't get to have children sooooo... yeah," Gup said, ignoring or oblivious to his prickles. "But this time when I brought it up she said okay. It was pretty scary though."

"How? It's a perfectly natural metamorphosis," Dornuk said almost dismissively.

"Yeah but you grew up with Hive. I didn't. I also didn't have a Thrall state," he reminded Dornuk. "I didn't know what was going to happen. Then a few weeks ago I came out like this. My dad says I'm the ugliest fried chicken he ever saw," Gup laughed by the Worm Gods his usual pitched up laugh was replaced by a deep rumbling thing that went right through Dornuk. He didn't think he'd be having this bad a time if Gup continued the act of being a child and pitching his voice up. But the adult voice... was doing it for him in the worst way. It seriously annoyed him. "I came out all bumpy but didn't like it so he and my uncles helped buff me smooth."

"You sanded your own chitin?" Dornuk asked. He came to a stop now that they were deeper in the garden area, behind some hedges and around a few corners.

"Yeah. I like it like this better. It's really smooth and soft, feel," and Gup held out an arm.

Dornuk knew he should not but he did. It was such a strange feeling too. "Like beetle shell," he said, smooth and shiny and almost... slick?

"It's pretty cool," Gup said.

"Why?" Dornuk asked, unthinkingly still lightly stroking Gup's arm chitin.

"Mom already complains dad and my uncle are hard because they're made of metal. So I wanted to be sort of comfortable to hug still. Eh, it mostly worked," he examined his other chitinous arm.

"That is such a you reason," Dornuk said.

Gup rolled his heterochomatic eyes. "I know. Worst guy alive at being a Hive. I am aware. You good?" he added because Dornuk was still lightly petting Gup's arm.

He started, realizing what he'd been doing, and yanked his hand away, flustered. "Yes you are terrible at being a Hive despite me trying to show you the way, and Alak Hul," he added.

"Yeah but being nice is way more fun. Makes everyone real confused," Gup said cheerfully.

Dornuk scoffed, "You're unbelievable," and walked off again. Gup chuckled and followed after him.

#365 #writeblr #writblr #fanfiction #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #the hive #hive #destiny hive #savathûn #savathun #original hive #original guardian

[sidereon-spaceace]

YO THERE ARE NEW STRIKES

#destiny #ramblings #i was just going through the playlist and I got the new one on Io??? #Eris Morn was on the comms!! she basically confirmed that Savathûn is behind the Taking!!!! YEET #also I saw that there's the Broodhold strike at the tangled shore! I had seen it in some videos before and im real excited to try it out #bust some Hive heads for Spöder #anyways ive got a therapy consultation tomorrow (hot diggity) so I should probably go get some sleep

[eri-223]

Destiny 2: At the Edge of the Deep

Gift fic for @synnthamonsugar! Eris recruits Oryx, newly awakened after his imprisonment in Touch of Malice, to help map Savathûn's throne world. Without her, they'll never secure enough of a front to drop patrols. But the Hive king has his own opinions about his sister. Eris/Toland and Eris & Oryx.

The essence of Oryx crackled.

Eris Morn held it in one hand while she pushed aside jungle plants with the other, and tried not to listen to the whispers. She had disinterred Oryx from within Touch of Malice, but in no way let him lead the excursion into the High Coven to find a place for the Guardian to create a landing zone.

He spoke, though. He had conjured a voice out of Touch of Malice’s victories, and spoke like gunfire and the hiss of hot oil. “Where have you brought me? Are we under the Deep or under the Sky?”

Eris ignored his question. It would not help to give him too much information. “We are doing the grim work. Orient yourself to the emptiest place here. Tell me where we might find a safe hovel we can turn into a palace.”

“A reasonable goal for any army. Yet, I believe you are not being honest with me about its nature. You refuse to finish your transformation, Eris Morn. I have survived mine, and mine again, and this one you yourself inflict on me. You’re weaker for resisting yours.”

Surely he meant the way Eris had become partially Hive, and had now taken from the Lucent Brood their own unique ability to wield the Light when Savathûn had offered it. What trap still lay before her with that as bait? Still, she had wanted the Light back for so long. To have it was a rare satisfaction.

“My time among your torturers was transformation enough for multiple lifetimes,” Eris said.

“You do not understand. The worms made me stronger, as even the way you lashed me to metal and cursed fluid physics did not.”

Now it was Eris’ turn to ignore him. “You merely protest against the inevitable. Guide me.”

The orb could not look around the green-yellow jungle, but it gave a good impression. Somewhere in the distance, artificial sun flashed off stagnant water like the gleam of an animal’s eye. Eris knew there were Hive Lightbearers lurking, but did not sense any nearby.

“This is the Deep, I think … “ Oryx said. “No, this is some realm colonized by the Sky. I feel … its influence.”

“Ignore it! Which way? And do not tell me north.”

Oryx laughed. Eris had not missed that sound. It reminded her of teaching Guardians to breach Oryx’s throne world, of the smells of salt and decay in the Dreadnaught’s most royal courts. “Or what?”

She had thought of goading him like an ill-treated animal. The Ahamkara shard might be able to wish a burn upon him, or a Ghost peel away his constituent molecules until it approximated something like pain. But that was a depth to which she was not willing to fall for this particular mission. It would be too cruel, would cost her own soul too much. “Or else you’ll be simply a gun again, put away in some forgotten vault. The Vanguard has not yet approved use of you in today’s wars. You will be … bored.”

Oryx’s containment field seethed with molten silver and Taken-black. “If I were here alone, I would walk thus.”

And he lead.

Walking for hours, she did trust him. Long leaves crunched under her feet. Bugs flitted in clouds, smaller versions of the Hive’s pale cave moths. The air held enough heat to make Eris sweat, but not, she imagined, as much as a tropical jungle on Earth might — the fecund environment here was convergent, not a replica.

Rock outcroppings and smaller-leafed trees marked a change in microclimates. They were approaching the large lake, if she had any sense of the place at all.

“This is not the right way,” she said, but did not stop pushing through the underbrush.

“This is the way that calls to me.”

“They are not the same. And this is why.” Realization moved at the same speed as the words. Eris crouched down to hide herself from what eyes might be looking from Savathûn’s castle. She held the essence of Oryx in line with it before letting the fronds of giant ferns and the feathery lower branches of alien pines obscure them both. “I told you not to go north."

“My sister,” said the essence of Oryx, crackling like a forest fire.

Eris let him sit there for a bit, just looking.

“We have remade each other so many times. And we thought the killing was the end of it. Thought that we could change each other without feeling the consequences of that change. Do you know what that’s like? To win only to lose, over and over?”

Eris did not dignify this with a reply.

The wind kicked up whitecaps on the green lake’s surface. Beyond it, the island that was the center of the queen’s court hung bone-white, here a skeletal blade, here a gentle cove.

Oryx said, “She found the worm, but I steered the ship. I turned the mast. Deal-maker and navigator, we were. I loved her like the sail loves the wind. When you release me to die for the last time, I will at last go someplace new.”

Eris made a conscious effort to stop her teeth from grinding. Oh, weren’t there always words like this? Things from the deep singing sweet songs. What melodies would come out of the spiny mouths of angler fish if they could only speak. But instead of light Oryx had the love of his sisters, and the trouble was even the deep sea prey needed light. Even they came to it for a reason.

Until the con artist, the predator, bit down.

Eris said, “I suspected you might come here.”

“And did not stop me?”

“Some bonds can’t be broken. Some roads cannot be forgotten. You needed to walk this one. Like calibrating an instrument. You will direct me true, the next time.”

This would prove true, later. For a while, she let what remained of Oryx watch and remember. He never asked to see his sister in the flesh. Whether this would prove to be premonition or plot or a sign of healing, she would not soon know.

Eris Morn swam, suspended above the world built by her enemy.

The High Coven: a place of fey strangeness. Plants never seen on Earth or in some dripping corner of the Dreadnaught unfolded in lacy spirals up from the silty bottom of a warm pool in the labyrinthine swamp. Guardians had hacked out patrol points here with the efficiency they were known for, and, perhaps, Savathûn let them. A double-cross was still coming, Eris suspected sometimes. Still, the warm, deep water relaxed her muscles, soothed her skin. She surfaced loose and calm, at home in a way she rarely felt. Rarely felt the need for it either, but now and then …

The green jungle, dotted with red flowers, offered humid air and the rustling of insects. Toland the Shattered sat with his legs in the water and his hands trailing ripples. The closeness of Hive power made his ghostly body more solid than usual, his appearance more detailed and more like to what he had been in life. With hair wet and shoulders hunched he could have emerged from the swamp, another one of Savathûn’s creations.

Eris floated toward him with lazy strokes, enjoying the green shimmer of the water and the plump shape of her own body. She was safe — she would not starve today. She rested her chin on her arms beside him, water dripping from her horns and hair.

Toland leaned down to look at her. “So, your mission is done.” She appreciated how he could make even stilted words sound melodic. He sounded old, his throat cracked — but let some of the perfect pitch suggest itself, too.

The essence of Oryx returned to its containment, back within the shell that had held it in Touch of Malice, but warded on Eris’ workbench. It was safer there than in the Tower, thought Eris, and it still had something to look at …

“Do you want praise for your bravery today, or bravery for the soft parts that remain in your soul?”

She rested her cheek on her arms, thought about it. The black ichor that flowed across her skin diluted into spilled ink in the green water. “Fortitude for the coming darkness.”

“Ah, yes. After all, the message you carry itself carries messages.” He trailed a finger along the ridge of her cheek, parting ichor. “At journey’s end there will be rest again. Look upon what you have made. Or, perhaps, what you have not … the idle fancies, the ease within the churn, the time slowed. You have fought enough, Eris Morn.” She shut her eyes as he stroked her face to her mouth, ran his finger across the full curve of her lower lip. “Craft such a clever way to give in.”

She pressed her lips against his palm. Toland slipped into the water, and for a while Eris did not think of her mission at all.

#destiny 2 #eris/toland #the timid truth #writings #Eris Morn #Oryx #Toland #the witch queen

[barbaracleboy]

Miscellaneous Bug Fables Headcanons, Just Because

Spoilers for the game below:

Gen and Eri used to be basic Ant Guards, but they became Explorers because they wanted to make themselves more notable.

Artis was a really skilled explorer when he was younger, but at this point he's too old to adventure well. Because of this, he now does paperwork for the Association.

Madame Butterfly doesn't tolerate flirting, and is 100% willing to kick the ass of Bugs that try to hit on her. Also, she's a lesbian.

Utter, meanwhile, doesn't like confrontation. He also doesn't like calling his sister to come help when he's in trouble, but if she sees him in trouble she will absolutely help him.

Venus loves to joke around with and sometimes even prank Aria, though she often takes Venus's jokes more seriously than necessary (Venus sometimes finds this funny in itself, though sometimes she'll chill with the joke if Aria's too affected).

Just about everyone in Defiant Root knows Kabbu by name, and he's generally seen there as a friendly guy. Many of them also feel bad for him, since he was dragged there by Neo near dead.

Queen Bianca felt bad after Vi left The Hive, and was pleasantly surprised when she heard of her (along with Kabbu and Leif) getting the Snakemouth Den artifact. Upon hearing this news, she went on to gradually encourage Bees to leave The Hive more often, for experience (this is part of why Chubee and that one Bee that found the Ant Kingdom too hot left).

The Chefs (Fry, Kut, Crisbee) are all friends, and they get together every now and then and exchange anecdotes and recipes (except for their signature dishes).

Astotheles and the Bandits primarily dislike Elizant II and the Ant Kingdom, though they also take issue with the Bee Kingdom for allying with the Ant Kingdom. If I’m correct, the devs have said that Zasp is a solitary wasp: if that’s true, then I believe that he and his parents moved into the Wasp Kingdom when he was young. Eventually Zasp’s parents left but Zasp stayed, having grown to like the kingdom and respect both Queen Vanessa and General Fuff. Zasp left around the time when Hoaxe first started taking over, and the scar over his eye was gained during this escape.

Zasp joined Mothiva’s side shortly after this escape, when she was holding auditions for a bodyguard. After Zasp passed these auditions and saw how well Mothiva herself can fight, he suggested that the two of them form an Exploration Team. This decision greatly boosted Mothiva’s already huge popularity.

Bianca tried allying her kingdom with the Wasp Kingdom (hoping it could both heal old wounds and potentially help repair the Wasp Kingdom's relationship with the Ant Kingdom), though Hoaxe's takeover threw a wrench into that plan.

Vanessa II dealt with something similar: she tried forming a positive relationship between her kingdom and the Leafbugs, but Hoaxe didn't think they'd be useful at all so he antagonized them once he took over. This (at least for now) ruined those chances of having a good relationship with them, and also led to them being more aggressive to outsiders.

I'm not sure I want to count this as a "headcanon", but Vanessa's honestly boring ingame (in my opinion, anyway) so I like to imagine that she can be pretty sassy and/or blunt.

Speaking of Vanessa being sassy, Hoaxe would often go into her room, where she was trapped, to berate and insult and taunt her. When she berated and insulted and taunted him back, he’d lightly burn her before leaving. It took him a long while to realize that the Flame Brooch was protecting her.

Uhhhhh, what else...oh yeah! The Queens all became besties after Hoaxe is defeated.

#bug fables #bug fables spoilers #writing #does this count as writing? I kind of just stated a bunch of random things I like to believe #there's no story told #also I don't feel like tagging the names of all mentioned sorry