#iron lord othion

[lordshaxxion]

Vermilion

By all accounts, SIVA was rather pretty. The way it pulsed and glowed and shimmered right before Cidrex’s eyes made it a sight to behold. But then his eyes came to rest on the Iron Lords it had run through, corrupting their armour, their weapons and even their blood and bone and sinew. It was like a virus. A corrupting disease as it spread among the bodies of both the dead and the living. Disgusting.

The silence was deafening from where he stood on the ridgeline, staring down at the massacre before him. Out of all the Iron Lords that had descended upon the SIVA replication chamber, and only he, Saladin and Othion had come out alive. Jolder had perished sealing the chamber, Perun and Gheleon gave themselves to protect Cidrex. Felwinter and Timur had died fighting together, their weapons turned against themselves. Othion and Saladin had been just outside the chamber when Cidrex had been forced to retreat, when Lady Jolder had detonated the explosives that sealed their fate.

Saladin’s rage had been unmatched in the moments that followed as he tore into everything he could find that wasn’t an ally. Othion had been in tears as he mourned while Cidrex was just silent. He’d felt numb. Now he stood on the ridge they had initially descended from to combat SIVA, staring at the bodies that were covered in writhing red vines. Hundreds and hundreds of Iron Lords, and their Wolves, lay slain in the snow-specked dirt. SIVA continued to spread among the bodies, latching onto weaponry and armour as it went, contaminating the dead and desecrating them in a way that made Cidrex feel sick.

“Othion. Cidrex.” Saladin’s voice rang out across the ridge, making both Warlock and Hunter look up. “Come. There is nothing left for us here.”

So he’d burned through his rage eventually, Cidrex thought as he heaved himself up and grabbed his ax as he went. Othion was silent still as he walked with his mentor, Cidrex trailing behind and thinking to himself.  Tradition called for the stitching of vermilion stripes into the material as memorial to the fallen, but his cloak was already red. The loss of the Iron Lords cut deeper than any wound and Cidrex was beginning to feel that mere patches of red on his cloak wouldn’t suffice as a memorial.

When they returned to the Temple, Cidrex sought out Tyra and asked her for a favour. A rather large favour, all things considered. He knew she was a learned scholar of many things from the Golden Age and even from the time before the Traveler’s arrival to Earth, and he’d hoped she would know a thing or two about tattooing.

“Why?” Was her question to the Hunter after he’d approached her and asked, Cidrex sighing and rolling his sleeves up from the large woollen jumper he was wearing.

“The vermilion stripe, you know it’s meaning.” He said, “My cloaks are all red as they are and I feel something more personal is in order to remember the fallen Lords by.”

“So tattoos?” Tyra asked, “Red markings?”

“Yes. One for each Lord.” He said, watching the cryptarch’s expression change.

“Cidrex, there were hundreds-”

“I know. But stitching hundreds of patches of red into my cloak doesn’t feel like it’s enough. Please, Tyra, I know you know methods of ink-marking that were thought lost after the Collapse. I need this.” Cidrex said. She watched him, watching him try to keep himself composed. The battle was still fresh in his memory and the memories still stung him. She couldn’t refuse him this.

He was sore. The metal tube method Tyra had learned was an excellent one, certainly got the job done, but with nothing to ease the pain short of his Ghost putting him to sleep it made the job all the harder. Tyra had refused to do all four hundred-odd marks in one go, claiming it was too much for both of them to take in one day.

Cidrex stared at his forearms curiously, watching the skin heal gradually from its ordeal. The vermilion stripes, small and only about a centimeter thick, lined his forearm from his wrist to halfway towards the elbow. Neatly done, despite Tyra’s worries about her work. Cidrex reassured her that they were beautifully done and promised to find her riches from the Golden Age when he next went traveling.

By the next session, Cidrex had learned to tune out the pain and focus on something else while the cryptarch worked on his biceps. Saladin hadn’t necessarily approved of his decision to have these markings done, but Othion had supported him fully as he understood how important this was to the Hunter. Cidrex had made friends with a great many of the Iron Lords and their Wolves, known to many and friend to all as he was often described as in conversation. He’d teased Felwinter and Timur much, but they never had anything ill to say about him nor him about them in return. He was fierce in combat, especially when paired up with Jolder or Lady Efrideet. Skorri had often found him a nuisance when she was trying to compose songs, but simultaneously found him to be an inspiration half of the time when he collected bets against Radeghast. Silimar had often playfully made little figurines for the Hunter, many of which Cidrex had used to creep Gheleon out. The Hunter had to watch them all die.

By the final session, Cidrex’s body was aching. The vermilion marks covered both of his arms, tracked up his neck until there was just one that sat vertically in the middle of his bottom lip. The ones on his body were for friends, those he considered family. The one on his lip was special; he’d had a partner that had perished in the fight against SIVA. That one had hurt the most.

The Red War was upon the City, the Red Legion decimating all that stood in its path and Cidrex had been witness to dozens of Guardians, fellow Hunters, be felled by the merciless Cabal. The Farm was a small reprieve from the horrors out there beyond its bounds, but Cidrex felt no level of peace there. He felt the way civilians and Guardians alike stared at his arms; it was too hot for him to wear his usual battered armour and he’d been forced to wear just a tank top as he helped where he could around the Farm. To be seen with so many vermilion stripes was to be seen as a bad luck charm, especially to other Hunters. Each mark was a representation of the dead, specifically those close to the carrier. So to see well over four hundred marks on this Iron Lord made others strive to avoid working with him for fear of their own deaths.

“Hey, Guardian.” A civilian said, gesturing to a huge Exo Titan from where he was walking with Cidrex back to their tent from an all-night patrol.

“Name’s Spades, what do you need?” He rumbled wearily, looking down at them. He was exhausted, he didn’t really want to help.

“We need a hand moving this stack of logs.”

“I-”

“I’ll help.” Cidrex interrupted, already tying back his hair (he hadn’t had a chance to cut it in the months since the Red Legion had descended upon the City) and setting his hands upon his hips. “Where do you need them moving to?”

“No offence, lil guy, but how are you gonna help us move all these?” The civilian snorted derisively, looking Cidrex up and down. The Hunter squared his jaw, rolling his shoulders and moving over to the logs before picking up one and hauling it over his shoulder.

“Where do you need this moving to.” He deadpanned, eyes narrowing in a challenge to the civilian, their taunts dying in their throat. Spades merely chuckled and walked off, passing Zavala and Cayde on the way to rest.

“Spades.” The Titan Vanguard interrupted the Exo, “Were you aware of Cidrex’s marks?” He asked, the other Titan looking back at his partner and nodding.

“Course. Why?”

Zavala looked uncomfortable, though not as much as Cayde did from beside him. He’d been talking beforehand, now he was just staring in silence. “I… wasn’t aware he carried so many with him.”

“Well over four hundred, Commander.” Spades said calmly, watching as Cidrex moved the logs with ease across the Farm. “And not a day goes by when he doesn’t mourn them.”

[shaken-veil]

12, 14, 15, 17 for Ajun~!

12)   Do they have siblings? How do they interact with them? If not, do they wish they had siblings?

@lordshaxxion‘s Othion is basically his twin brother. They come up with far too much mischief. Mr. super serious Iron Lord and Mr. far too busy researcher.. xD Idiots.

(Originally Nevia was meant to be Ajun’s older sister, reunited after becoming guardians but that plan died. ^^)

14)   Do they like where they live? (Is it a safe place?)

Ajun has a pretty big apartment in the mid section of the Tower. It would be very fancy..if he wouldn’t leave his stuff laying around everywhere.... Clothes, books everywhere.

15)   Where do they live? Are they wealthy? Poor? Middle-Class?

Ajun lives pretty well, actually. Though he spends too much money on clothes..later..he spends money on Kura.

17)   Do they have pets?

Nope, Ajun is not a pet type. 

[lordshaxxion]

How would your OCs do in a Disney style AU? I gotta know Othion and Cidrex's reactions.

Oh man oh man oh man I have no real idea

Othion would literally be like ‘Disney Prince but has the grace of a Princess’ or something, definitely loves and p much besties with all animals but fuck singing. He’ll hum tho. Cidrex could be a prince but in all honesty I’ve got no real idea? Unless he’d be like the guy from Tangled? Idk but damn if this ain’t making me think of a Royal AU with Cidrex and Othion being two young Princes ready to be wed off or whatever the fuck to Lords idk

[lordshaxxion]

Doodle page! From literally ages ago but w/e! Apologies for crappy scan quality but here’s Othion as I tried to draw him from the screenshot I took of his beautiful face and a rough idea for his armour, though I’m keeping the helmet off-model idec. Plus! My fave boy! I slaved over that Shaxx you don’t even know

Gonna upload a digital redo of Othion’s armour rough and an actual image of my boy since I haven’t. Done one. Yet. Fuk

[lordshaxxion]

AAALL for Cidrex because he is my favorite boy

alright u asked for it >:U all of this fuckery will be under a cut

Where were you rezzed?

“In a forest somewhere in the EDZ, I think. I don’t really remember much of it, I was pretty much immediately attacked by Fallen, so there was a lot of running for my life.”

How long ago was it?

“During the Dark Ages, so a reaaaally long time ago. Like, during the prime of the Iron Lords.”

Did you have anything in your pockets?

“Just a lump of crystal quartz, but it was rose-coloured and I guess that’s where my obsession with shiny things and collecting crystals from? Oh, I also had some old currency from the Golden Age. No idea what kinda currency, but I cleaned them up and they’re super shiny and really cool.”

What was your first week alive like?

“Stressful. It was a lot of learning how to survive and trusting my Ghost to heal any injuries and bring me back if I died. That was a shock in itself though, when I died for the first time.”

How did you react to your new role as a Guardian?

“Well I became an Iron Lord before I became a Guardian, and that was pretty alright until SIVA happened. After that, being a Guardian and being an Iron Lord became the same thing - just doing the right thing because no one else will, or can.”

Do you have any regrets?

“I couldn’t save my brothers and sisters of Iron from SIVA. Saladin has always told me that I couldn’t have saved them by myself, but I still regret not doing more to at least try.”

Does your ghost have a name?

“He’s called Socks-”

“IT’S SOX!”

“-because he used to hide in my sock drawer at the Iron Temple.”

What is your ghost like?

“He calls himself Sox because he wants to look cool, and I think he cares too much about how he looks from the perspective of other Ghosts. I dunno if Ghosts are judgy to one another, but what I do know is that Sox used to hang around a not-so-great group of them. He’s small for a Ghost and I think this group sorta... took the piss. He tries to act tough a lot, but I know that deep down he cares a lot and he does like his actual name.”

How do you feel about the last city and the vanguard?

“I was sent to the Last City by Saladin to act as a so-called ambassador between the City and the Temple, so it’s like a second home to me now. I know all the streets like the back of my hand, even the sectors I’m not really meant to venture into. The Vanguard are alright, they have their hiccups but I know they mean well and try their best. Well, the did until Cayde... yeah.”

What’s your favourite place to go?

“Cayde used to describe it as wanderlust, but I like wandering all over the Earth and seeing all the ruins and wilds there are. Though my favourite place out of all is the Lost Sector in Winding Cove. It’s so beautiful there with the glow-worms in the dark and the reflection of them in the water. Nice and quiet too, when it’s cleared out every other day.”

Do you participate in strikes or the crucible?

“Strikes. I leave the Crucible to my brother, Othion.”

How do you celebrate the holidays?

“I used to celebrate in getting blackout drunk with Cayde and the rest of the Vanguard, we even used to persuade Shaxx and Othion to join us sometimes. Now though I spend them by myself just tinkering with the stuff I’ve collected over the years.”

Who is your favourite NPC and who is your least favourite?

“It was and will always be Cayde. I can’t get along with Ada-1, though. She unnerves me and acts rather stuck-up despite allowing Guardians into the Black Armory now.”

Where do you sleep/call home?

“I have my own apartment in the Tower, of course, and unlike most Hunters that’s where I call home. It gets me weird looks though, I know a lot of Hunters prefer sleeping under the open stars and it gets Sox to tease me and call me ‘a domesticated hunter’.”

Do you have any pets or companions?

“I wanted to get a cat when Cayde was still around, but we never got round to doing it. Though I kinda have magpies that come to stay when I’m at home. I put feed out on the window sill for them and sometimes they come back with shiny trinkets for me. Oh, and I look after Colonel too, but I’m not allowed to keep Colonel in my apartment because other Hunters would throw a fit.”

Does anyone live with you?

“Cayde and I talked about it, about him moving in with me or something. Again, we never got round to it.”

How do you unwind or comfort yourself?

“It’s embarrassing to admit, but when me and Sox went exploring a while back we found a stash of what used to be called ‘stim toys’. Lots of pots of squishy clay-like dough. Sometimes if I’m overwhelmed I just dig out one of the pots and just sit there squishing it for an hour or so. In terms of general relaxation, if I have the attention span I’ll read or if I don’t then I’ll watch some movies. I got a good collection of Golden Age and pre-Golden Age movies now.”

What would truly break you?

“Losing someone close to me again. I lost Cayde and I wasn’t myself for a long time. If I were to go through that again, I really don’t think I’d recover at all.”

Most embarrassing moment?

“When Sox resurrected me for the first time after dying and I sat there crying and threw up for two hours. It wasn’t... my greatest moment.”

Any cherished memories?

“All of my time with Cayde, to be honest with you. Even when we argued, I cherish those memories greatly. Also the first time I discovered a rare crystal, that was a pretty good moment too.”

What was your highest and/or lowest point?

“Like I said, losing Cayde devastated me almost to a point of no return. Highest point? First Crimson Days with Cayde, we wrecked shop in the Crucible together and got banned in the same day! The look on Izel’s face was glorious.”

Views on the enemy races?

“I don’t like the Taken or Scorn, those are practically a given. Vex are annoying and freak me out a little. Cabal I loathe for what they did to the City, though that’s predominantly the Red Legion but whatever. Hive also freak me out now I think about it, though the worms they drop are kinda cute. Fallen? I just feel pity for them. They lost everything in their own version of the Collapse and are just trying to get by, and yet we keep attacking them.”

Which enemy race is your most/least favourite?

“I hate the Scorn for what they did. On the flip side of that, I rather like the Fallen. I got a chance to get to know a few, like Mithrax, and they’re honestly not that bad when you do get to know them.”

What’s your role in a fireteam? (Tank, support, buff/healer, comic relief? Or are you the dead weight?)

“Dead weight.”

“No you aren’t, Cidrex, you’re a sniper.”

Do you have any mentors/mentees?

“Saladin and many of the original Iron Lords were my mentors, but I don’t have any mentees. Hunters ask me for advice every so often, but I don’t give it. I don’t want to be in that position, I’m not a good teacher.”

What is your favourite weapon type/favourite weapon?

“Give me my DARCI and I’m good to go. I like auto rifles a lot though, despite me using snipers a lot I’m not that great up close so it’s easier for me to just kinda spray and pray without the instability of SMGs.”

Do you play Gambit?

“Sometimes. It can get really stressful trying to deal with invaders that use utter bastard weapons.”

How do you feel about the Drifter?

“I don’t know. Everything about his operations just tell me that I can’t trust him at all, but then I got to know him better and I just feel... kinda sad?”

If you could be any class/subclass (not just your own), what would you be and why?

“Striker Titan, cuz it looks like fun and a great stress and tension relief. Though, I’d like to be able to use Gunslinger properly, I’ve never been able to use it all that well even when Cayde tried to teach me. I’d just like to do it, for him.”

What are your thoughts on the Nine?

“Fuckin’ weird. I don’t trust them at all, especially not after I saw the Emissary for the first time. Though Xur’s pretty cool.”

Any secret crushes or relationships we need to know about?

“Well.... there is this one guy. Hunter, but he’s built like a Titan. Got no social skills and the emotional range of a teaspoon, but he’s charming in his own way regardless.”

“It’s Ataric.”

“SOX!” @crazy-bone-lady

Does your Ghost approve, or haven’t you told them?

“Sox is a piece of shit that tries to out my crush at every given moment. Luckily, he’s a tiny piece of shit so I can just hold him in my hands and he can’t do anything.”

You’re about to go off-planet on assignment, and will only be able to eat protein rations and food gel for a month. What’s your last meal?

“I don’t really have a preferred meal or anything, so I’d just get take-out somewhere in the City. I know a couple really good joints.”

If you could take over any NPC’s job, who would it be and why?

“Cayde’s job as Hunter Vanguard. I know every Hunter has just about run for the hills, and will always do so when they hear the words ‘Vanguard Dare’, but I’d be happy to take up the position. I’ve already taken up his cloak, might as well take the job that came with it right?”

What is the most beautiful sight you’ve seen?

“When Sox and I were exploring an Io cave system, we fell through into a massive chamber filled with crystals. The light from where we’d fallen through shone on the crystals in such a way it created an utterly breathtaking spectrum of colour. We took so many photos of that moment, it was just so amazing to see all these crystalline spires lit up and practically glowing.”

“What about that sunrise in the EDZ?”

“Oh yeah, this one was pretty good.”

Do you have a favourite colour?

“Not particularly, though green’s pretty good since I dyed my hair with it.”

Show us your favourite outfit!

“Top picture, switch the pants for the Lucky Pants and you’re sorted. Bottom picture, I miss my BrayTech hood. It was super cosy, and paired nicely with the Taimat(?) chestpiece.”

What’s your favourite shader?

“New Monarchy Diamonds and Metro Shift.”

If you could make a wish to an Ahamkara for anything - no strings attached - what would you wish for?

“To save all those I failed to save. The Iron Lords, Cayde. All of them.”

[lordshaxxion]

Second Chances

I am in DENIAL.

Cayde-6 was dead. He’d been dead for some time, in fact, almost a year. Almost a year since Uldren Sov had betrayed the City and murdered the Hunter Vanguard where he knelt. Spades had carried him home to the Tower, to the City, but Cidrex had been the one to discover him. He had been the one to find out who had killed him. He had helped to organise the funeral. He had spoken at the ceremony while his arms had burned with the Void of his rage and he had been grave side while they buried Cayde.

Cidrex was now out on a patrol by himself, a full year later, and he was quiet. Normally he’d be talking to Socks, his Ghost, or on the comms with Spades or… Cayde… but instead he was just silent. Picking off Fallen as and when he saw them come across his sights and firing just the one sniper round for each. He watched their heads explode, watched what looked like souls leave them and wondered if anything had left Cayde when Uldren-

“Stop it.” Socks said out of nowhere, almost startling the Hunter. “Stop thinking about that, Cidrex.”

“Sorry.” He muttered, looking up at his Ghost. His mind tended to wander nowadays, drifting back to that moment all the way out there in the Tangled Shore. Thinking up different ways it could’ve gone, all the times he could’ve gotten there sooner if he hadn’t done something else. If he’d been quicker. If he’d been faster. If he’d been focused on that Dreg, not that Vandal. Socks had been there to keep him grounded, to try and stop his thoughts from wandering much farther than the initial ‘what if’. Cidrex needed it, especially with Zavala almost drifting away from him and Spades keeping somewhat to himself. They were all trying to be better about things, they were all making an effort to interact properly again but the gaping hole in their relationship left by a certain Exo was making it all the more harder to just be normal.

Cidrex let out a deep sigh, watched the plume of white clouds filter through the small gaps in his helmet, and picked himself up. He slung his sniper around his back as he did so, clicking the safety on and waiting for Socks to transmat away before he jumped down. The Hunter landed solidly with a splash, the ankle-deep water kicking up with the force and rippling out from him. A tut left him as he realised his long cloak was getting in the water, but he didn’t quite care enough to pull it up as he started walking in no particular direction. That was something else Cidrex had noticed over the months, he’d just taken to wandering. Wandering the apartment, wandering the Tower, wandering the EDZ or the Cosmodrome or wherever else he went. Wanderlonging, Othion had described it as once - a longing for a place you’ve never been. It was almost true, Cidrex supposed, he wanted to go somewhere he’d never been. Somewhere that wasn’t filled with memories one way or another.

There was a small chirping near Cidrex’s head that almost made him spin around, ready to knife whatever was nearby that had startled him. It was a Ghost and it whizzed back with rapidly twitching panels out of Cidrex’s reach. The Hunter scowled under his Iron casque. It was a Guardian-less Ghost trying to hitch a ride with him in the hopes of being taken closer to where it could find its own Guardian.

“Find someone else to travel with.” He growled at the Ghost, “I don’t take strays.”

Cidrex turned on his heel and carried on walking, footsteps making small splashing sounds as he went. The Ghost followed him, silent and not making any sort of sound now. Cidrex groaned in frustration.

“Go away! Seriously! I’m not giving you a lift anywhere!” He snapped, trying to walk faster in the hopes of losing the Ghost. But the Ghost proved stubborn and kept following. How annoyingly persistant. Eventually Cidrex’s temper got the better of him and he turned sharply, grabbing the little frame out of the air and holding it firmly in his hands.

“Stop following me!” He shouted at it, staring into its cyan optic. “Go find someone else who cares! Go find another Guardian to hitch a ride with! Just stop following me!” The Hunter let it go after a moment, watching it drift slowly up but not back away. It wasn’t entirely unusual for Guardian-less Ghosts to follow other Guardians around, but Cidrex just didn’t want this little guy following him around. He had far better things to do with his time than help a lost Ghost get somewhere it didn’t know. Instead, Cidrex just tried to ignore it. If he wasn’t careful with his temper, then he could end up hurting the poor thing and that just wouldn’t do.

So he carried on walking, trying so hard to ignore the little Light until he felt a flutter within his own Light, one that had definitely not come from Socks. The Iron Lord whipped around and removed his helmet, glaring at the Ghost in fury.

“Stop trying to link with my Light. That isn’t your Light to poke with.” The Ghost just blinked its optic. Its familiar, cyan optic.

“It used to be. You still collecting those crystals? Because I grabbed a bunch while I was trying to find you again. You know how long that took me in a frame like this? I know Ghosts are cute and all but this is just weird.” The Ghost finally spoke and its voice made Cidrex’s blood run cold. It kept talking and talking, rambling on about everything and nothing all at once. “I figured you’d be here, EDZ is your favourite place to be and all. I know why, too, so fresh and not too weird to deal with. You remember that field you took me to? When I was in the middle of rebooting once? I miss that field.”

Cidrex stared at the Ghost, his knees feeling weak as he sank into the muddy water. He felt numb, almost ill. This had to have been some kind of sick joke, it had to be. There was no possible way Cayde-6 was a Ghost now, not for real. Bile was starting to build slowly and his stomach churned, his world span. He hadn’t heard that voice in such a long time. Even after the funeral Cidrex hadn’t wanted to go through the videos and recordings of Cayde with Zavala and Spades. He still hadn’t wanted to.

He looked up at the Ghost that had now moved to be right in front of him, almost flinching away from its little blue frame and single white forefin at the top. Now this was just silly. Maybe he was hallucinating?

You’re not hallucinating, Cidrex, came Socks’ comfort across their bond. Well, he wasn’t sure it was a comfort to know he definitely wasn’t hallucinating a Ghost with the voice and demeanour of his dead boyfriend.

“I missed you, Cidrex. A lot. I pulled a lot of strings with the big guy to be here again, even if it’s like this.”

“Cayde…?” Cidrex whispered, almost afraid that saying his name aloud would make the little drone disappear. Instead the Ghost only came closer and cuddled up to him, nestling in his hood and warming against his cheek as tears started to leave the Hunter’s eyes in floods.

“Hey. I made you a promise I wouldn’t leave you, didn’t I?” He said, wiggling a fin against Cidrex’s cheek. A sob almost caught in his throat.

“But that’s not… you can’t be… We buried you, you… you can’t be here!”

“Okay I know it’s basically impossible, but the Traveler did me a… a huge favour, after the lengths I went to to help free her. So she restored me as a Ghost. Couldn’t fix my body up, so this was the next best thing. Don’t you know where Ghosts come from?”

Cidrex was shaking, he was pale, he couldn’t believe this was really happening. His own Ghost, Socks, started to investigate the newcomer whose presence he could feel nudging through his bond with Cidrex’s Light. It hardly seemed possible and yet there they are.

“How’s everyone else?”

Cidrex was quiet for a moment, holding back more sobs as the tears just wouldn’t stop coming. His jaw worked soundlessly for a moment, voice just not at all wanting to engage.

“Zavala took it hard. He wouldn’t acknowledge it at first. Kept talking to the space you used to stand in. Spades… Spades kinda kept to himself at first. We all did, until I dragged Uldren back here by the ankles and tortured him in front of the City.” Cidrex admitted finally, voice cracking a little.

“Heh, I caught that. That was impressive. How’s your Void burn?”

“Still dissipating.”

“Still? It’s been a year.”

“I know.”

“That bad huh?”

“Cayde, you died. You died. Permanently. And I didn’t even get to say goodbye to you, I had to get Spades to carry you back home. You died and we held a service and the City mourned for you! We all did! And now you’re just here, as a Ghost, making small talk?! The Consensus want to make me the next Vanguard in your place! And you’re just here making small talk?!” Cidrex ranted, starting to shout towards the end of it as he grabbed the blue Ghost shell and stared him down with wide, teary eyes. This whole thing was wrong. It was so, so wrong.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Cayde said quietly, his voice taking on that soothing, soft tone it always did whenever Cidrex was getting worked up over something regardless of how trivial it may have been. “Look, I know what happened, okay? It happened to me after all. But what am I supposed to say? It’s not like this has happened before.” He soothed gently, floating out of Cidrex’s grip to look him in the eye.

“Cayde…”

“The Traveler gave me a second chance to be with you guys again. Yeah, okay, it’s a bit weird to suddenly be a Ghost, but it’s still another chance I get to see you all again. I’ll be damned before I turn that kind of offer down.” Cayde said softly. More tears welled up in Cidrex’s eyes, brimming and turning his vision to blurs as he reached for the Ghost shell and held it gently before bringing it to his face and holding it to his cheek.

“Promise me that you’re real.” He rasped, barely holding in sobs of absolute distress. “Promise me, Cayde. Promise me you’re real and you’re staying. I can’t… I can’t lose you again…” The Iron Lord wheezed, devolving into soft sobs.

“I promise, sweetheart.” A snotty laugh almost left Cidrex, more like a strangled noise.

“You only called me that when you were after something.” He accused. Cayde wiggled a couple of fins, chuckling.

“Well, it’s starting to rain and you’re knelt here in muddy water in that nice lookin’ armour.”

“Shut up, Cayde.” Cidrex smiled weakly, eyes still watery as he couldn’t hold back more sobs.

“Shutting up.” Cayde said gently, cuddling into the Hunter’s hands and comforting him with his usual humming.

[lordshaxxion]

I'M NOT XD XD

GET HELP! PLEASE! MY BROTHER, HE IS DYING!!!

GET HELP!!!!

NO I CAN’T ADD PICTURES ON MOBILE HOW COULD YOU OMF

for those who are completely lost, shits n giggles joke between my handsome boy Lord Othion and Jules’ equally as handsome emo boy Ajun

[lordshaxxion]

Who is Lord Othion? Boy let me tell you a (long) story.

This fancy little bastard is my first Destiny character I made and thoroughly fleshed out. I might write his story out fully, but right now this is just a basic run-down of his arc because I wanted to give him his spotlight, bless his cotton socks. It’ll go under a cut because this will get long and I love my boy :’)

Far before the Dark Below arc and the real meat of the Destiny universe, Othion was resurrected in a small, burnt-out and long-abandoned settlement (picture the one from Zavala’s cinematic where they’re fighting Fallen, this will be relevant later) by his Ghost, Comet. Sass and snark aside, they bonded quickly and the closest place to them, as Comet says to Othion, is the Iron Temple (just go with it, I don’t know where anything is relative to the other in Destiny >:U ) and that they should travel there for Othion to learn to be a Guardian, and that one of the best teachers resides there that will help him. 

After a long travel, they make it to the Iron Temple with Othion nearly freezing to death on Saladin’s doorstep and passing out, only to wake in a lovely warm bed in a lovely warm room with a lot of lovely warm furs around him. Comet is whizzing around in relief and Saladin brings him some better clothes than the rags he’d been wearing prior. From that moment on, Othion begins his training with another Guardian, a Hunter called Cidrex with bright green hair and a sassy Ghost called Socks. The two of them are trained hard and in the end it’s worth it, the both of them seeing and treating the other as brothers and, after Lord Saladin feels their training has been completed, Iron Lords respectively. Lord Cidrex is a Nightstalker and an Arcstrider, Lord Othion is a Stormcaller and a Voidwalker. After receiving this status and spending much time with Lord Saladin, they both feel they have earned their right to leave and explore as they see fit and Saladin doesn’t stop them. Lord Cidrex heads to the Last City, becoming Iron Lord representative full-time there and strengthening bonds between the remote Temple and the Tower. Lord Othion, on the other hand, heads to the stars to explore, soon in Asher Mir’s company as his assistant and helping him to research the Vex through ‘research and destroy’.

After nearly a decade, Othion returns to Earth and joins his brother at the Tower to help the Vanguard with all he’s learned from studying the Vex Collective so extensively. When he’s being taken to meet the Vanguard, he keeps his helmet (adorned with an antler, see the doodle page, bottom corner) on to make a good first impression with important people he’s never met. On the way past the Crucible area, he sees Lord Shaxx for the first time and he’s blown away almost by just how huge this Titan is, how he shouts praise and boasts his Crucible to passing Guardians. Cidrex pulls his brother along and the meeting with the Vanguard goes smoothly, Othion removing his helmet with his back to the hallway behind them and giving his research to Ikora respectively.

Meeting done, Cidrex takes Othion (helmet back on in somewhat shyness, somewhat discomfort) for a tour around the Tower and shows him around. As they get to the end of their tour, stopping near Eris’ creepy corner, Cidrex is about to say they should go and get dinner in this neat little place he knows when they hear Shaxx laugh at a small gaggle of Guardians and say “You want the Crucible? I am the Crucible.” Othion is enraptured by this, unable to take his eyes off him for a moment.

“I’m going to punch the Crucible.” “Othion, no-” “Othion, yes.”

And with that, he marches over to Shaxx and demands a match off him. Fists and class abilities only, no weapons, no supers, no nothing. Shaxx laughs, finding a Warlock of all Guardians demanding such a thing off him. He finds it cute, endearing almost, and something familiar about the way this stranger holds himself. He agrees, because it will at least serve as a reminder as to why he is unbeaten in his own Crucible. An hour later, and the match begins in what I like to think of as an arena, like a Colosseum arena with crowds filling it.

The fight is swift and fast-paced, Othion blinking circles around Shaxx and using his agility to his advantage, striking Shaxx a couple times and receiving a punch to the shoulder that sends him off-balance and blinking back a couple paces to recover. Shaxx laughs and asks if he’s had enough.

“Enough games.”

Othion launches himself at Shaxx, running full-pelt towards the Titan and Shaxx readies himself to attack when suddenly Othion jumps and blinks towards him, suddenly appearing in his close-quarters and punching him in the face. Full Warlock melee force behind it, square in the helmeted jaw, fist full of Void, and it’s powerful enough to send Shaxx flying backwards across the arena, skidding to a halt flat on his backside. The crowd goes silent, everyone watching the broadcast goes silent. They can’t believe it. Lord Shaxx? Defeated? In his own Crucible? Lord Othion moves over and helps the Titan up, and the arena bursts into a tumultuous roar, a cacophany of cheers because someone has beaten Shaxx in living memory. Then, as Shaxx is standing and blinking the dazed sensation from his head, he drops to one knee and holds Othion’s hand. The arena falls silent again, murmurs spreading throughout the crowd as Shaxx says just one thing.

“Marry me.” And Othion leans in close.

“I will say yes, but only if you can defeat me in another match. It will be set on your terms and when you are ready. But if you cannot defeat me, then my answer will be no and it will always be no. You have one shot.”

The stakes are high, but Shaxx accepts. And then he begins to train. He trains and trains and trains and between then and the ‘proposal battle’, he is determined to get to know Othion. He takes him out on sparrow rides, for dates, for long walks around the City to see the sights and Othion helps run Crucible matches (Shaxx learns he gets just as into the matches, shouting and getting carried away as he does. He loves this man.) before they go out on one last date right before Shaxx demands the battle. They have agreed the whole time to never see the other’s face, and agreed that they remove their helmets the night before the match, whenever that is to be set. The night before the match is set, Shaxx takes Othion out somewhere to see fireflies, the only spot he knows of where it is undisturbed and silent and just perfect.

As they walk through an abandoned settlement after spending the whole day getting there, the sun casts a golden glow on everything as it sets and it takes Othion a moment of brief conversing with Comet through their bond to understand where they are. He jogs ahead to what used to be a street, dilapidated buildings crumbling either side of him, and stops suddenly, humming. Shaxx asks what’s wrong and Othion just laughs softly, shaking his head.

“This is where Comet found me. This is where I was resurrected.” He says, looking at Shaxx. Shaxx can’t believe him, he knows this area, he knows the horrors, the tragedies that happened here. Othion insists it’s the right place and Shaxx demands he removes his helmet while they still have daylight. Removing his first, Shaxx stares Othion down. Dark, star-studded cheeks and burning red eyes stare at Othion, the other realising that Shaxx is Deepborn before complying and removing his. The second Shaxx sees his face, he recognises him and it brings nothing but a mess of joy and distress as he falls to his knees, crying. Othion panics, going to him and waiting for Shaxx to explain as he comforts him.

Hundreds of years ago, when they moved from settlement to settlement, before the City was even conceived, Shaxx fell in love with a mortal man. A civilian, named Orion. He was kind, always worrying about Shaxx even though the Titan always insisted he needn’t. Orion loved Shaxx too, but neither of them gathered the courage to tell the other until it was far too late. The Fallen attacked the settlement, burning buildings and ravaging the people there and the few Risen, as they were called, struggled to beat them back. Even with Zavala’s might, Shaxx’s brute strength and Saladin’s determination, they weren’t enough and they lost many to the Fallen. Amidst the fight, Shaxx ran off to try and find Othion, having lost sight of him when several Vandals cornered him. He shouted his name and finally saw him in one of the streets, frantically trying to reload his weapon. Seeing Shaxx, he shouted to him. Schlick. A Fallen arc spear sliced through his chest, Orion coughing blood in shock and staring wide-eyed at Shaxx. It took the Titan seconds to crush the Captain that had done it, kicking its carcass away and cradling his lover. The blood was sticking to his armour, but he didn’t care. Orion was dying and he hadn’t been there to protect him. Shaxx couldn’t help himself, he confessed his feelings and Orion just laughed softly, cupping his helmet. Asking him to promise that he wouldn’t just give up, that he would protect the people, that he would keep going, Orion died in Shaxx’s arms and the rage that overcame the Titan was powerful enough to manifest in Solar dripping from his fists. Laying his fallen lover down, he stood and laid waste to the rest of the Fallen and it wasn’t until every last one had been eliminated did he finally calm, sinking to his knees in grief and sobbing. Since that day, he never looked at another the same way, he couldn’t bring himself to. Orion still held a place in Shaxx’s heart.

And here he was, staring at the face of his long-lost lover, albeit a different species now, but regardless. Orion had returned to him, with no recollection of his past life and a strength Shaxx could only wish he’d had all those years ago. With Othion crying quietly, holding Shaxx gently, the Titan resolved that he would win the fight tomorrow, or he’d die trying. Othion said he wouldn’t just gift it to him, and Shaxx wouldn’t expect him to. They watch the fireflies together, Shaxx admitting to Othion that it was Orion who showed this place to him lifetimes ago and that it was somewhat cathartic with this revelation of who Othion was.

The fight came and went, Shaxx beating Othion into the ground successfully and after a long and drawn-out fight of two seemingly-matched powers. They were wed, the Speaker giving them both his and the Traveler’s blessings and the exchange of matching Bond and Mark signifying their Lights were now as one, half the congregation crying, the Vanguard included. From then on, Lord Othion assists Lord Shaxx with the running of the Crucible, many Guardians coining the nickname ‘Crucible Husbands’ for them both with the iron fist and ferocity they both command the Crucible with. Othion assists Shaxx with outfitting Guardians for the Crucible, handling their rewards and seeing to the arenas being made ready for matches.

Basically they love each other very much and would do anything for the other, their relationship is well-founded and not solely based on the fact that Othion was Shaxx’s lover from another life; they talked about that issue and Shaxx affirmed that he was intent on marrying Othion for his skill and the personality he was presented with in the fight and the lead-up to the reveal of who he was, not for his face and the remnant of a life long gone. Their honeymoon was them making the best love, and bonding their Lights together, in Shaxx’s little apartment on a bed decorated with furs in candlelight, with a lot of laughter and silly leadup and perfect aftercare. Because they love each other. Very. Much.