#exilegend

[lepiidopterophobia]

it has been nearly a year, and yet her survival remains a secret from all who need to know otherwise.

for nine months she has hidden herself amongst their ranks, wearing the face of a stranger. it is not so different from what she-who-was did, theo had told her. only she had worn the face of an ally, a friend. she had worn the face of one of the most famous warlocks, and had gotten away with it. he would not allow the same trick twice.

not that it was an option, she thinks, and takes a bite of the bungeoppang theo had ordered from a local stall.

the pastry is warm in her hands, and the sweet, nutty flavor of red bean paste is welcomed. theo had given her two for breakfast, told her to remain where she was, before he'd shuffled off. to order himself something to eat or simply to puruse the stalls, she wasn't sure. it didn't matter. a moment alone was a welcomed one, even if she was forced into this ridiculous disguise.

her eyes— just two, each a gentle human blue— scan across the scattered terrans as they meander through the bazaar. it is not too crowded on this lazy saturday morning. though the food vendors have been set up for an hour now, others are just opening their stalls, unlocking the doors of their shops. a peaceful start to a peaceful week. it makes her chitin-turned-skin crawl.

she is gazing out across the crowd when a familiar shape catches her eye. a shape she would know anywhere, wrinkled hands and furrowed brows she could never forget. it had been within his mind that she'd dove, only a few days after her resurrection. it had been his awakening that had truly sealed theo's place by her side. and it is him she has been avoiding for months.

and despite every instinct telling her to disappear into the crowd once again, the witch queen finds she cannot tear her gaze away.

@exilegend

[fiirecracker]

❝  you can use a spear as a walking stick, but that will not change its nature.  ❞ / for ikora | @exilegend

"you, more than anyone else, should know that is not the case."

with a heavy sigh, ikora leans forward, resting a hand on her desk. the other ghosts over a file, separating the papers within. the muscle in her cheek tics.

"i don't like it either, osiris. believe me, if i could, i would—" crush that ghost, scatter the shell to pieces, carve her body and burn it so that she could never be found again. "—choose another. it don't care to work beside a hive god. not even one risen in the light."

[gaygxnslinger]

@exilegend found a starter!

Watching Osiris for the last few months has been heart-wrenching, his Phoenix falling into a prison within his own mind, wings clipped and spiralling downward into abyssal unknowns, only to reemerge and meet with distrust alongside, for those who thought they knew him well, unfamiliarity.

Saint does his best to reassure. There is, however, only so much he can do, he knows Osiris will find his footing once again as he always does, but Saint-14 is a man who finds his main purpose is to give. When it is not enough, he will readily give more, and when that -- or his fists -- is not the solution? It bothers him.

His many years spent with Osiris have taught him that belief, time and patience will help to further, if not all, many goals that brute force cannot. Regardless, it pains him to spend that time watching Osiris suffer.

When his Beloved finally returns from Neptune, he is a beacon of light.

Saint moves to meet him and ever so gently reaches to grasp Osiris’ hands. He runs his thumbs in soft, little circles over the backs of them, and although the Exo is still unused to the lack of Solar heat that used to radiate from his lover, he thinks the warmth that fills him satiates.

“My Love,” he rumbles, “it is so wonderful to see you again. You will tell me of all you have learned about this Strand, yes? Over a cup of tea perhaps?”

[noequals]

This is an nsft sideblog to @exilegend. I’d prefer to keep my audience for this particular blog 18+, and if you’re a minor I don’t want you anywhere near it. (Both for your safety and mine. I can get into serious legal trouble if you decide to be stupid !)

My general rules here apply the same. I’ll probably keep headcanons and asks of sexual nature sequestered to this blog, any written replies and such will perhaps only happen with people I’m extremely comfortable with.

My portrayal of Osiris is trans so keep this in mind (and if I catch yall jokingly calling him a bottom in a disparaging way I will tear you a new one I am sick to bastard death of these jokes.)

I am ambivalent towards the idea of Osiris being big on one night stands and in fact think it's a lukewarm take at best. So anything that goes down here if it goes down at all will be talked about in excess with my writing partner. (Basically be wise with the ask box being open lol.)

All nsfw posts will be tagged (as nsft) and under a read more.

Uhhh that’s all I can think about rn so beyond that? Have fun.

[ofpolyhex]

@exilegend

The rotary huffs, and hmmms, and noisily scoots over on their front to bother Osiris by staring down at him with their big bright optic. They pride themself on just how distracting they can be sometimes.

"I think," they say boldly, "that this whole good and evil thing is scrap, if you ask me, which you didn't, but I don't get it so I'm telling you anyway. Can't you just give me the answer?"

[apollonic]

@exilegend  |  OSIRIS said to ZE’EV - 4 “How much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?“

    THE MEMORIES BURN IN HIS THROAT.  or perhaps they are tears,  though it is admittedly difficult to tell the difference between the two.  especially now.  especially with regard to him.  ze'ev does not want to admit what osiris likely already knows.  what he surely could tell,  based on the things aetius said to him.  ( guilt rises in his chest,  mingling with the pain of what was,  what could have been.  aetius deserves better than to be held against the ghosts of two of ze'ev's loves.  deserves better than seeing his husband curled around the cloak of a man who still yet draws breath,  but no longer exists. )  

    ze'ev never stopped loving osiris.

    he never stopped loving him,  and it is far from fair that those memories be stirred up again,  the memories of the casual adoration in the eyes of a man who disappeared,  leaving the bitter pang of loss as his only calling card.  a man for whom he was not enough.  ( sometimes he wonders if things would have turned out different,  had he been a guardian. )  ( he is beyond happy with aetius,  loves him more than he would have thought possible with a heart as wracked by loss as his own.  and yet.  .  .  he cannot help but wonder. )  

    his hand reaches out for the briefest of moments,  as if he wants to brush his fingers against osiris' shoulder.  and then he thinks better of it.  lets out a sigh.  turns away.

    ❝  you know exactly how much,  osiris.  it has been.  .  .  years,  but all the same.  .  .  you murdered the man i love to become who you are.  ❞    and ze'ev does not even have the energy to be bitter about it.  he is simply.  .  . tired.  tired of losing,  tired of grieving.  it is difficult,  grieving a man who stands in front of you.

    but not impossible.

[felwinter]

small sc  ✦  @exilegend

    "You look like you could use a break. Come. Walk with me.” There wasn’t much to see beyond the observatory and snowy landscape below, but the sun was warm and the air was crisp; Felspring seemed almost anxious to get out out of their study, and Felwinter could only ignore her for so long--

[luxdelumin]

good fucking morning i see i have woken up to PAIN regarding ikora and osiris. thanks, promo. i love u.

[thytalons]

@exilegend  / sc

    A FEW MOMENTS OF SILENCE AS CROW WATCHES OSIRIS,  brow furrowed ever so slightly in concentration.  he has only been at the tower for a short while,  not nearly long enough to become wholly accustomed to the ins and outs of daily life there.  and neither,  he thinks,  has osiris become used to the numbers of people who make the tower their home.  and that seems to be the least of his troubles re - assimilating,  from crow's observations.

    an aura of sadness seems to hover around him,  and judging from the way other guardians react to him,  it doesn't seem to be one he has always had.  it must be due to.  .  .  due to him losing sagira.  crow cannot even begin to imagine what his life would be like were he to no longer have glint by his side.  the thought is appalling,  and he doesn't know that he would be able to find it in himself to continue on past that point.

    ❝  forgive me for asking,  but.  .  .  what was it like,  to lose your ghost?  the mere idea of losing glint makes me feel as if i am going to be ill,  so i cannot imagine what it must be like for you.  you are an exceedingly strong person,  to continue on as you are.   ❞

[awoken-lights]

"Hey, don't tell Osiris because he doesn't like it when I "meddle in his affairs" but I need your help delivering a message to Saint. You up to the task?"

Looking up from her notebook, the doodles and halfway completed scrawled lines of poetry now having a better location than the corners and edges of her maps to be created on, Isiel raised an eyebrow at Sagira. Pocketing the small notebook, she leaned forwards with a conspiring air about her. “A message for Saint huh? I can definitely do that, what sort of message is it?”

She had a feeling she knew what kind of message it was, but didn’t want presume.

[lepiidopterophobia]

the fact that both @exilegend and @thvndersnow have told savathun this exact thing.

not "your love is wrong" but rather "we cannot love that way. humans are not meant to hurt for love." asnd im,,,,

[fiirecracker]

❝  just let me look at you for a little bit.  ❞ | for rohan :business: | @exilegend

rohan is in the act of folding his cloak when osiris speaks.

he sits now on the couch, cloak removed, back slouched, shoulders at ease. it is the first time in... quite a while rohan remembers being this relaxed. (it's hard to find time, to find a reason. the vex, the witness, chioma esi's logs— there is much to be done in the limited amount of time they have.) but it's... easier, when he's in his residence. when he isn't alone.

that didn't used to be the case, of course; osiris had to drag the humanity from his closed chest. calloused palms and painted nails scraped for purchase as dark eyes pinned him down. demanding the truth; not for himself (partially for himself, rohan admits) but for the cloud strider.

and it is here, in his residence, with the brightest mind the last city has to offer, that rohan finds himself easing into it once more. he places the cloak aside. he does not admit the way osiris' words make his stomach flutter; like he is some innocent youth once again, blushing and virginal. he would not be able to handle the ridicule.

"is that all you ask of me?" teases the cloud strider. he leans, resting against the back of the couch. his arms lift, to rest, splayed, across it. there is a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, but also, perhaps, a touch of mirth. "if you wanted to look from a distance, we could have remained in the hall. let you continue your work."

[orphidian]

❝ osiris isn't good at showing excitement but the idea of staying with other people is exciting. I'M excited too. ❞   /   @exilegend

Sagira’s bright voice fills her sensorium, and Orin can feel her excitement thrumming through the air between them. It excites Gol in turn, who dips and bobs through the air with cogs spinning. Images of a pair of bright eyed foxes darting around each other fill Orin’s mind, and she bites the inside of her cheek to keep from chuckling. 

“I’m glad you’re both excited, even if he is a little more reserved about it,“ she answers, and Gol seems to nod in agreement as he twists through the air over her shoulder. Orin bats at him gently, sweetly, and he settles in the crown of her hair. Less a fox, more a budgie, she thinks to herself, and winks at Sagira. “We like when people join us, even if they only stay for a little while. This world can be cruel and painful without friends. And based off of what’s left of the few cities we’ve seen... humanity has fallen far.”

A sobering thought. She scoops her ghost from her hair, tumbles him into the air again, puts her helm back on.   “How long had you two been alone before you found us?”

[lighttouched]

❝ listen, between you and me, osiris isn't good at encouraging people. but! at least he's even talking to you so you're on a good path. ❞

- “ i suppose, littlest one. ” heart heavy with toxic doubt, the creature offers a half smile.

- nothing you do will be enough. it bites a crackling lip. how can it even begin to close the fissures it has created between itself and those touched by the Light? you are a victim of your own folly! the winnower was always right... this time they had hoped perhaps its own interference in the game would alter things for the better, but still the sword struck true and the gardener was forced to live with creeping darkness around their heart. 

- “ i just hope that what i have done can be fixed... that i can be forgiven. ”

[ofpolyhex]

🎹 — playing an instrument

send an emoji to learn how good / bad my muse is at that particular skill!

“I’d like to boast and say I’m good at anything musical, but—nope! The last time I tried to play an instrument, it was some kind of keytar. And it blew up.”

“It’s also pretty hard to play some instruments with just one hand...”

[apollonic]

@exilegend  /  sc

    THERE IS A PART OF HIM that yearns desperately for the company of others.  that yearns to feel anything other than the gaping chasm of loneliness that lies nestled inside his chest.  and yet  —  as he hears footsteps coming down the hallway to his room,  he cannot help but feel a brief moment of terror.  (  gone are the days when he thought that spider,  despite his many failings,  cared for him in any meaningful way.  now he is certain beyond a doubt that the only one who will ever truly love him is glint.  )  but when he sees osiris' feathered headdress,  he finds himself relaxing,  finds himself feeling slightly more at ease.  osiris,  at least,  has been kind to him,  in spite of the crimes of a past crow cannot recall. 

     the guardian's company is much preferred to that of spider's,  so he welcomes the older man with an almost overeager smile.    ❝  did you need something?  i am certain that if you need my assistance,  i’ll be able to get leave from spider to accompany you.  ❞    nothing about osiris' visage necessarily states that he needs help,  but crow cannot imagine why he would visit if he had no material need.  (  and there is a part of him desperately hoping for an excuse to go elsewhere.  he feels stifled in his room,  trapped here beneath pipes that are not unlike a cage.  )  (  he is a bird in a cage with clipped wings,  doomed to live out half a life  — over and over and over,  until the spider tires of him or deems him no longer useful.  )