we are an army of the chosen dead

this is one of those rare fics that I cannot read in one sitting because there are FAR too many emotions that I am feeling right now /vpos

I love how many actually horrific things Grian's done, and the thing about him knowing an apology won't be enough? and Pearl's reaction? bruuuutalllll but so good.

this fic is just. amazing. 👏👏👏

I guess it’s time to post this.

I started playing Destiny 1 just a few weeks after launch. I went to the store and saw this poster, I was immediately thrilled by the space fantasy vibes, and after reading a couple reviews I got the game.

People like to make fun of the original D1 story campaign, but I was enchanted. (“I don’t even have time to explain why I don’t have time to explain” is a GREAT line, fight me!!) I loved the world and the characters and the weird mash-up of cosmic horror meets looter-shooter optimism meets space opera meets space western.

Then the trailers for Dark Below started dropping, and the line “I have seen what the Hive call a god” still lives my head rent free, and I met my beautiful blorbo Eris Morn. And because I was watching the Eris tag, I met @phthalology and @titan-mom, and suddenly I was actively participating in a fandom and making friends.

Destiny has been part of my life ever since—sometimes more, sometimes less. I played it during some really dark times. And then after things got better, for a long time I couldn’t play it, not more than a couple days every six to nine months, because I just wasn’t ready to reconnect with the person I used to be and the things I enjoyed when everything was awful.

Then the news came about D2 ending. And last week, I told myself it was finally time to log on and try again.

So I did. And it was fun! It turns out that sometimes you can go home again, and the Tower still feels like home to me, even after all these years. I honestly feel so blessed that my head was finally in a place to reconnect with this game, right on the eve of it ending.

Summary:

“Please,” he begs, “I’ll do anything you want, anything at all, just—just please don’t tell the others I’m a—”

He can’t spit out the word Watcher.

Pearl looks at him with a gentle, scalping sort of pity.

“Grian,” she says, “everyone already knows.”

(or: In a Hermitcraft Season 10 that is the aftermath of the epic battle between Hermits and Watchers, Grian has to learn how to live without his wings or his secrets. Or Mumbo.)

Notes: Genfic, 37k, complete! (I finally decided to start posting fic to my tumblr again, go meeee.)