#Felwinter/Shaxx

[makoredeyes]

22. Felwinter/Shaxx

#22 a kiss in a rush of adrenaline

"A rematch?" Felspring squinted suspiciously at the letter Felwinter held. "'No-one holds back this time',?!" she read on, incredulous. "He knocked your block off last time!"

"Shaxx didn't hold back," Felwinter drawled, unconcerned. "I did."

"He's going to kill you," Felspring insisted.

"Probably," Felwinter shrugged.

"Permanently!"

"Not if you keep out of sight. If his intentions are malicious, run back here and get backup. But Shaxx is a sworn ally. He won't try anything too uncouth."

"You're really going to go," Felspring deadpanned, disbelieving. Felwinter shrugged again, nonchalant.

"Why not? Could be fun." Felspring let out a howl of exasperation.

"Fun!"

They were both right.

Shaxx's intentions were pure enough, the big Titan truly simply wanting a rematch for the sake of the fight. For him this was play, and he was taking great delight in their little fracas.

Felwinter was also truly beginning to worry this beast of a man truly would end him.

Shaxx's energy was boundless, and they'd been at it all afternoon, trading blows and Light alike, gradually whittling one another's resolve away until their match had become more of a battle of the wills than a test of strength or skill.

"Give up," Shaxx demanded, lunging for Felwinter only to catch but the hem of his coat as the Exo danced away. The beloved garment tore when Felwinter lurched clear of a second grab, and he stifled a lamenting sigh.

"You give up. And get me a new coat."

"You shouldn't have worn such loose clothing into combat if you didn't want to get it grabbed at, idiot!" Shaxx boomed, chucking the scrap he'd won back at Felwinter. Felwinter huffed and slipped into the Void specifically so he could dart in behind Shaxx and yank his mark off his hips. The big Titan let out a shrill yelp of surprise and spun on his heels just as Felwinter tossed the belt and heavy fabric back in his face, then followed through with a wicked uppercut that sent Shaxx staggering backward and his helmet flying up and off his head.

For a split second, Shaxx stared back at him with wide eyes, the Warlord well and truly shocked. It would seem he'd barely actually even felt Felwinter's punch, but he was so surprised by the play that it had done more to stun him than pain ever would.

Then Shaxx grinned, and pounced on Felwinter.

They fell together in a tangle of arms, legs, and armor, Felwinter scrambling to try and escape, Shaxx cackling gleefully.

"Going to play dirty are you?!" He laughed, winding strong limbs around the slim Exo and holding him tight. "If that's your game, my friend, I'm afraid you'll be sorely beaten!"

"Hey-" Felwinter floundered, venting hard as he pushed and shoved and slapped at Shaxx, making the Titan giggle. He barked out an angry shout when Shaxx grabbed the back of his helm with one hand and pried it up and forward, peeling the protective garment from Felwinter's head and tossing it aside. Felwinter sputtered, blinking against the sudden daylight and abrupt loss of his hindsight. He glared at Shaxx, grinning back at him from mere inches from his face.

"Isn't this fun?" Shaxx gasped, panting hard as Felwinter continued to struggle, getting an arm free to slap him hard. Shaxx yelped but only laughed harder. "I haven't had this much fun in centuries!" He shook Felwinter in his grip gleefully. "Why, I'm so grateful to you Warlock I-" He cut off, grunting when Felwinter managed to knee him in the gut, but then he smirked and simply grabbed Felwinter by the shoulders and kissed him.

The Exo immediately slugged Shaxx upside the head, toppling him. He got up, wiping his mouth, and strode over to where Shaxx lay thoroughly stunned, and hauled the big Titan up by the straps of his armor, forcing him to stand.

"Cheater," Felwinter hissed, returning the kiss roughly.

Shaxx laughed, returned the punch, and followed Felwinter down for another kiss of his own.

It was going to be a long, rough evening.

It was going to be fun.

[turtletoads]

shaxx has lived in my head for 8 slutty, slutty years

[datmoongamer]

Hello Shaxxwinter enjoyers

[stoshasaurus]

The BOYS and the BABY

the baby’s name is Rosalind (she/her)

brief tidbit I wrote on my server

[hiseumingo]

Warlords

[hidden-scarlet-whispers]

I love you O14 x Crow writers / artist

I love you O14 X YW writers / Artist

I love you O14 x Shaxx writers / Artist

I love you O14 x Saladin writers / Artist

I love you Osiris x Felwinter writers / Artist

I love you Saint 14 x Shaxx writers / Artist

I love you Osiris x Saint 14 writers / Artist

I love you Allll

[lordshaxxhandler]

Lore for the hungry, I really enjoyed writing this one 💕

Previous | Next

[searsage]

You hate how desperate you feel, the others have started to notice the way you fidgit and pace in this small cramped camp, its safe..safer then anywhere you've laid your head in the past sevral months but…

You find yourself waiting, trapped within a perpetual loop of optimistically hopeing that he came to reason and turned around, only to realize he left for a deliberate reason.

Felwinter explicitly stated he had no intentions of returning and not to follow him, despite all that you've been through together, and yet you find yourself stupidly waiting for the man to return, refusing to face the fact that the soldier simply slipped through your fingers…

Surely he sought sanctuary the same way you had, why else would he follow you all the way here only to abandon you.

What about Shaxx? What about you?!

Were you so desperate for validation that you threw your pathetic heart into a confusing mess that was only intended to be a past time…?

You want to talk to him…but the commander hasn't said much to you in the presence of your people, and even less once Felwinter deserted the group, no he's been far too busy debriefing soldiers and arranging extraction for the refugees.

Your certain he can feel your gaze, yet he studiously casts his attention elsewhere, only further solidifying that creeping suspicion, the fear what happend meant nothing…of course it did…

You turn, fully intending to share a exasperated comment regarding their apparent lack of order with Skorri, only to abort the habitual action, a sickening pain filling your stomach as you recall her crippled body shambling towerds you.

The creeping obsidian pulsating within her veins, the desaturated eyes hungerly seeking you out..

Her death, It still feels unreal, yet so painfully raw.

There was nothing to be done, your only thankful Felwinter put of her misery first, a task you would never have had the strength to do yourself..

The cup of stale ramen clapsed in your shaking hands suddenly does little to appeal to your rapidly dwindling apitite and you find yourself passing the remainder of the ration off to someone else before rolling over to sleep.

You spot Radaghast hovering accross the room, watching you, his weary tired eyes filled with questions, but you simply look away, ignoring the guilt festering within your chest, you have little answers to his silent inquires..

But still, you owe him explanation all the same, you feel bad, the two of you haven't had much space or time to grieve or talk, not about you abandoning them, and not about Skorri's death by his blind choices, it wasn't his fault, but you've yet to tell him this.

You should talk to him…perhaps after they finally get you all to safety..safety, an almost outlandish hope after months trapped in thia damned city, even now this little reprieve feels like a fever dream, a pause before the other shoe drops, this feeling hasn't left you not since Felwinter left, and not since you stepped foot within the boarded up walls of this camp..

This all feels like a mistake…

Your fears are only confirmed hours later, when a strong hand wakes you, months of light sleeping hes have your eyes snapping open, body jolting to attention the second the commander's glove brushes over your blanket, sharp eyes flckering to the windows, then doors, searching for signs of a breach that wasn't there..

"Its safe, calm down." Shaxx ordered, pointing out Arcite at the far end of the room, the soldier was proped against the boarded windows scanning the streets below, Dahlia his position on the opposite side of the base, Rifle resting ready against her proped thigh.

"They won't get past my jacks without us knowing first, come walk with me, I need to talk with you."

He's still in his tacticle gear, and that stupid helmit renders it impossible to read his expression, but his voice…

There is a malencholly weight to it, one that unsettles you, painful cramps twist yoyr gutt as anxiety blooms within your chest, ripping off the thin blanket you hurry to your feet to follow after the commander.

Shaxx leads you into a room guarded by two other soldiers who silently shut the door behind you, inside a radio and tactical equipment rests strewn about the table atop a tattered and stained map of the surrounding city.

There is an awkward silence as the commander lights a cigar, partially lifting his helmet to drag before exhaling with a heavy sigh before he looks to you..

"I was wrong."

"Wrong..about what..? Is there another delay?" A delay would be ideal at least over the less favorable alternatives…

"The evacuation team isn't coming, higer ups decided letting potentially infected citizens leave the quarantine zone, posed too much of a liability, and now they want to wash their hands of it all.."

"What!? Liability..?"

"What part don't you understand Timur, they have ordered us to cleanse this city, exterminate any lifeform we encounter, starting with the refugees."

"T-They want you to kill us..?!"

"Yes, But I won't, we were sent here with the orders to save people, and I'll be damned if we raise our guns against innocent civilians."

"We aren't safe here then…"

"No, you are not, that's why im giving you a head start, Timur you are smart, take the others and find somewhere safe…find Felwinter, my men and I will lead any reinforcements in the opposite direction, it'll give you time, but that's all I can guarantee…"

"It'll have to be enough, yet i can't help but wonder why they are doing all this, why bother in the first place.."

"Pressure, they've ignored this problem for a long time, imagine what will happen when the press discovers they simply left civilians to their deaths, it's been months they didn't expect to find anyone alive here…not truely."

"So it's not about the infection, or probable contamination, they simply want to wash their hands of this, all while claiming they actually gave a damn about the people they left to their death.."

"They want no witnesses Timur, and if it means they have to kill a few survivors the world has already forgotten about they wont hesitate to silence those liabilities, but we wont let that happen so easily.

"When should we leave..?"

"Sunrise, the lost are too active right now, also.."

"Hm..?"

"I was hoping you'd spend the night, in here with me, not the most comfortable of arrangements but im certain we wont be disturbed."

[asklordfelwinter]

Hello Lord Felwinter sir!

What are you opinions on the crucible? Or any guardian vs guardian games?

I saw you say that you want to join some of the “war games” so I wanted to ask

Every one of us should be trained in how to fight our own. Shaxx may not say it himself, but I am certain he holds this same belief. And it is far safer to learn there, supervised, than out in the wild where one of you will not be walking away.

This Crucible is almost a child’s game compared to the training that we put one another through. Even so, the mere fact that he went to the effort to arrange it is something to be admired.

…If you so much as breathe a word of this to him, you can expect to meet me on the field yourself.

[a-driftamongopenstars]

Oh hell yeah tysm I’m still getting obsessed with him BUT THERES SO LITTLE ABLUT HIM?? IN THE FANDOM???? CRIME!!

IKR! But what there is is just so delicious. Season of the Worthy was such a goddamn pain but the lore was mouthwatering good! I cried at the end!

I know there's a few artists who post a Lot of Felwinter art!

[vallaragna]

Preface this that this is about Destiny 2, a video game, so none of this actually matters. Just hypothetical ravings of a fiber artist with a bit of knowledge about historical things. So like I keep having thoughts about textile production during the dark ages after the collapse. (Specifically at Felwinter's Peak, but hold that thought). We have such varied descriptions of what survived the collapse. People are depicted as wearing basic tunics and dresses that would not look out of place at an SCA event. Technology is primitive, except they still have guns that they up keep and have ammo for, Shaxx is described as sealing his keep with an artificial sealant. So things are so varied and random. Like did spinning wheels exist still? They obviously don't have access to industrial machines, but are they just spinning everything on drop spindles? (Making me question how much work it would take to keep all the freaking iron lords and wolves on that mountain clothed.) For that matter, do they still have acid dyes? Or are they relying on natural dyes? Dye materials used to be highly valued, you can't tell me warlords wouldn't be fighting over this stuff (which also brings up Spices being fought over likewise). I mean you could hand wave everything by saying "golden age technology", but that shouldn't be half an interesting. We do have the Strand lore book where Osiris talks about using a spindle when during the dark age they had to make everything from scratch, which supports that line of reasoning. So no spinning wheel, only spindles. Cloth production takes so much freaking time when doing everything from scratch. With a spinning wheel it takes me hours to produce a few hundred yards of a thicker yarn for knitting, I'm not incredibly experienced, but it takes so incredibly much more time on a spindle. And you need so much yarn to be able to weave cloth of any yardage. There's a reason women in paintings used to be depicted with spindles and distaffs so often. For that matter, what sorts of looms were they using? If they didn't have spinning wheels I'm guessing advanced looms are out as well. So rigid heddle looms? Warp weighed looms? The second would make more sense, but also takes so much time and you can only weave cloth so wide. It's limited by the arm span of the weaver. So narrow fabric, so even more yardage needs to be made. We're not even at the sewing stage yet. I discussed dyes earlier, but it would be important. Even in the actual medieval times clothes weren't all brown. Natural dyes tend to fade faster though. Black dyes were really hard to produce, and they fade fast. Then sewing would be by hand, I doubt there are sewing machines if they don't even have spinning wheels. Sewing by hand takes *forever* even if you are fast. There are tricks to making it go fast, but you're not producing an entire garment in a day, especially if you have anything else going on. For that matter you really care about mending in this environment. Also knitting and crochet? Technically those take longer to produce a garment than weaving and sewing. I know Zavala learned knitting from Safiya in the dark ages, so it did survive.

I think I'm at the end of my ramble, I'll add if I can think of anything else. I'd love to hear other people's opinions.

[the-fruit-bandit]

Don't you think it's funny how almost always Titans just can't help themselves when it comes to Warlocks? (Saint and Osiris, Wei Ning and Eriana, Shaxx and Felwinter, ect)

Just always seem to be drawn to each other yk?

What do Hunters get you might ask? Well that's simple: They have each other! It goes:

• meet under unlikely circumstances

• develop lifelong bond

• get into a stupid mess

• one of them dies in (or as a consequence of) said stupid mess

• the one left alive gets super traumatized, has a huge change to their entire personality makes the death become their main driving force, and then waits until they meet a new hunter so they themselves can die in a stupid mess and continue the cycle!

[datmoongamer]

[stoshasaurus]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No, Fel. Not at all.”

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

——

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

[the-light-finds-its-way]

So ok. I've been thinking all day. And to be honest?

Destiny is fantastic at making me love characters I initially HATE!!!

For example. I actually was introduced to Osiris in COO (I didn't get to play D1 so I wasn't familiar with him). My initial impression was he's a self-centered, egotistical dickweed who's full of himself. Then I played COO, I played more of the game, I came to knew Osiris and I was fucking HEAD OVER HEELS for this gay phoenix grandpa. Gods he's beautiful both in looks and in characterization. He's got heart, so SO much heart, that it HURTS!!

Then there's Uldren/Crow. As Uldren, I despised the fucker. He killed Cayde off. A bastard boy. Selfish and brash, full of himself, too. Then I got to the end of Forsaken. I learned his lore, and how he was a victim of the Black Garden. I learned the past of the Awoken, how he was manipulated by his sister in many ways into an unhealthy codependence. I felt bad. I wanted to save him and protect him. When he came back as Crow, I was SO relieved! He had a new chance and could do better!! And he has!! He's more independent and I get to see my favorite boy grow into himself!!

Additionally, Mara Sov. I met her, and she was a selfish manipulator who hoarded her people's realm, their secrets, and her brother. Then I learned her lore as the game continued. That she was afraid of loss. She lost everything so many times, and she hurt SO bad. Mara gave her heart to the woman she loved, and when Sjur died, Mara couldn't take it. Who could?! She lost her realm to the curse, her brother to death, her first life as a Human, everything. Mara is tragic, and I feel for her and I want to give her a big hug and just tell her it's ok to cry. I love Mara.

Lord Saladin, too. He's cruel, unrelenting, brutal, and a killer. He slew the thief after sparing her as a child because it was law to back then, he admits to his brutality, he was born of a different time and way when things were darker and more hopeless. He showed his selflessness, he lost so greatly, he lost Felwinter, and Shaxx turned his back on him, and Saladin just cares so greatly but he's trying. He truly is. He sacrifices so damn much for everyone, just like Mara though on a smaller scale, and it shows he has a heart through that thick iron exterior.

And Eramis. I thought she was corrupt, and horrible, selfishly leading the Eliksni revolution to make them into slaves of the Darkness. I had no idea she was a victim of it herself, and that she was a minion of the Witness, believing it would better her kind and save them. I felt so much for her as a result, and I just want her to be ok.

Like Destiny has given us so many characters that were unlikable, abhorrent, even, and they've made me love them in the end. For countless reasons.

A major theme of the game is loss, and that's so obvious because loss is a tragedy, and tragedy causes trauma which makes these characters as they are.

But all the same the game is about hope and reshaping our destiny into what we want the future to become. It's all about starting over, and doing better on a clean slate. That's why Guardians exist.

But even if not a Guardian, they exist to show the rest of the universe that change is possible, and being better is a choice to make, not a destiny given.

[thefirstknife]

There's so much stuff. This screen popped up after I started the story and it further gives us hints about the dungeon!

"Storm the Keep" which mentions Scorn and Taken enemies. There's also an image:

Genuinely old-timey looking castle on a mountain! I am fairly certain this could be referring to Shaxx's old castle/settlement where he lived with civilians as a Warlord. Warlord's "ruin" would then be a literal ruin, as in ruins of a castle. This settlement is mentioned in Remembrance weblore (the one where Felwinter goes to recruit him and fight him). If that's it, then this place has since been overtaken and now finally there's Scorn and Taken running rampant and for some reason looking to wield wishing magic. Possibly some remains Shaxx left there maybe?

This is still speculation, but the image and the extra description made me think of Shaxx's castle from the weblore.