#azra fell

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! First of all, thank you all so much for this it has been wonderful and very helpful for me, second of all do you have any hanahaki au suggestions? Again, thank you so much!

We have a #hanahaki disease tag. There just aren't loads, but here are the latest ones on the AO3 tag...

The Orchid by dionysia_does_stories (G)

Aziraphale gifts Crowley an Orchid for his fake birthday and Crowley finds himself coughing up orchid flowers whenever he tries to say something insulting about his angel.

If The Lord Don't Forgive Me (I'd Still Have My Baby) by MumsDepressionMeds (G)

Anthony J. Crowley has been friends with Azra Zachariah Fell for seven years, and has been in love with him for precisely six and a half of them. . If you had the opportunity to make the love of your life love you back, would you take it? Crowley would. Even if that means risking everything, he'll do it for love.

Don't take it away (because you don't know what it means to me) by Azure_Swallowtail (T)

Angels and Demons aren't supposed to get sick. That's one of the cool things about being immortal, that is until Crowley starts coughing up flowers and blood. So are Demons not supposed to get sick, or are they just not supposed to fall in love?

Remnants of Eden by Copias_ratstache (G)

He's lost Aziraphale, and now he's coughing up flowers. Could his week get any worse? (VERY breif mention of suicidal thoughts, proceed with caution.)

Red Petals by orphan_account (M)

The one where Crowley gets sick because of love, and it is left unrequited until he sees the angel again OR Hanahaki angst

Nothing But Flowers by thefoxandtherose (T)

Crowley bursts into the bookshop, coughs up a bouquet of peonies, and claims he's dying. Aziraphale isn't buying it.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #hanahaki disease #mod d

[another-lost-mc]

Decided to do some research on azra and in some religions, the reason why he was cast out is because he shared forbidden knowledge to humans, could it be the same for your oc or is it different?

You're right, and that's the inspiration for Azra's OC story too. He taught humans how to make weapons (there's a reason why he's so good with knives) and how to craft/use jewelry and makeup. He's always had a taste for aesthetics and fashion which is why he and Michael got along as well as they did despite having not much else in common. The earrings he and Meta wore back then are ones that he made himself.

How he was cast out of the Celestial Realm is taken from some of his traditional lore as well:

He was bound in chains after being captured by Raphael and after standing trial and facing judgement, he was cast out of the Celestial Realm. His wings burned as he fell and he basically crash-landed in the Devildom - he lost the earring he always wore and that's how he ended up with the deep cut (now a scar) over his left his eye.

As a demon, he has the power to manipulate metal in addition to fire, which was the elemental magic he was attuned with in the Celestial Realm. His demon form outfit has a lot of silver chains and bands/cuff jewelry which is a symbolic mirror of his arrest as an angel.

#jes.replies #jes.oc asks #my oc: azra

[ajconstantine]

AJ Constantine's Good Omens Fic Recommendations. Human AU 10-20k word length.

In an effort to organize the stories that I particularly enjoy, I’m compiling them into categories and posting them. I’ll add stories to the lists periodically as I come across more that I like. 

My first category is Human AU of a medium-short word length of 10-20k. This length is a satisfying one; enough to feel like it’s a complete story without feeling like it’s a huge commitment to start reading. Interestingly, it doesn’t seem to be a fairly common word length, so I only have six stories to start with. 

If you enjoy any of these stories, please comment on the fic and let the writer know! It brightens their day immensely and encourages them to keep writing these wonderful stories for all of us to delight in. 

Click on the link below to see the list of stories. 

Where We Will Love by TawnyOwl95/ @tawnyontumblr. Rating: E, Chapters: 5. Words: 17,795 Summary: Crowley busks in Piccadilly Circus. Just down the road in Haymarket, Azra Eastgate performs at Her Majesty’s Theatre. One duet is going to change both their lives. MUSIC AU. AJ’s notes: Sweet meet cute, no angst. 

Cock Tales by TawnyOwl95. Bartender AU. Rating: E, Chapters: 4. Words: 12, 269 Summary: Crowley’s love life is on the rocks so he finally swears off men. Typical that his new job places him with a co-worker who's so straight up sexy. Or in which, Aziraphale tries to mix things up, Crowley is shaken and Anathema is a right stirrer. But could a relationship be worth a shot? 

I'm All Yours by FeralTuxedo/ @feraltuxedo. Rating: E, 11,479 words. Chapters: 4. Summary: Crowley has been rescuing his friend Aziraphale over and over again for a decade. Hopelessly in love, ready to jump at a moment’s notice when he was needed. When Aziraphale finally breaks up with his partner, Crowley is there to help him through what’s looking to be one hell of a mid-life crisis. Things could finally change. If he manages not to mess it up again. A human AU with a whole forest’s worth of pining squeezed into a single day. 

Strong Enough For Love by TawnyOwl95. Rockstar AU. Rating: E. Chapters: 5. Words: 14,577 Summary: Music journalist A.Z. Fell has been given the biggest break of his career. A chance encounter has opened up an opportunity to interview elusive rock star Anthony J. Crowley at his Oxfordshire mansion. What exactly is the secret hidden in Tadfield Abbey? And will Azi ever pin down Crowley long enough to get his interview?  

Tidewrack by TawnyOwl95. Pirate AU. Rating: E. Chapters: 2. Words: 6,706 Summary: Crowley never wanted to be a pirate captain. He likes giving orders though, and the clothes. And when pretty rich boys are brought to his cabin for questioning. Although this prisoner is making Crowley feel rather out of his depth.   

What Hath God Wrought by Saretton/ @saretton. Telegraph AU Rating: E Chapters: 1. Words: 10,310 Summary: Do you remember, my darling, the early days when there were just fingers and air and sounds – a rhythmic beeping in the day, a frantic answer in the night? The orange glow of lamps. Coding and decoding. Choosing the words carefully, never too many, but always enough. AJ’s notes: well done use of first person perspective, reads like a poem, lyrical and lovely. One of my favorites. 

#ajsficrecs #good omens fanfiction

[enchantress-emily]

Good Omens Fic Recs, Round 2

Time for another rec post with some excellent GO fics that have been added to my AO3 bookmarks since the first time I did this!

Multichapter:

Villainous by @ineffablepenguin

Once Upon A Time…

There was a red-haired sorcerer who lived alone in a high tower, and a blond prince who lived in a palace full of people. And they were both of them desperately lonely.

The Kingdoms of Empyrion and the Sorcerers of Apollyon have hated each other for hundreds of years, ever since the Great War. They do not interact, other than to occasionally try to kill one another. And they certainly do not make friends.

Crow is an exhausted sorcerer who just wants everyone to leave him the hell alone: for the Sorcerer’s Council to stop harassing him to live up to his potential, and for wannabe Empyrion Heroes to stop attacking his tower to try and kill him. Until one day when he meets Prince Azra of the High Fells, who doesn’t behave anything like he’s supposed to…

A splendid adventure that brings in the vibes of multiple fairy tales and fantasy stories without being based on any specific one. (See the list of Easter egg references at the end!) It's made clear that Azra is noticeably chubby and that Crow wouldn't want him to be any other way, which is something I always appreciate in a fic. The spice level (E) is higher than I typically read, but the story is well worth a little awkward skimming of sex scenes.

Morningstar Abbey by @andromeda4004

No one who had ever seen Aziraphale Fell in his youth would have supposed him born to be a hero. His situation in life, the character of his father and mother, his own person and disposition, were all equally against him. But when a gentleman is to be a hero, the attractions of a comfortable, quiet home cannot prevent him. Something must and will happen to throw his destiny in his way.

One should never forget that between a hero and his destiny, one will always find a villain.

Trusting parish rector Aziraphale attempts to navigate Regency Bath, the marriage market, and the complexities of his own heart in this take on Jane Austen's Northanger Abbey, written for the Ineffably Austen event, March 2023.

I enjoyed this recently-completed fic very much! The author put a lot of thought into creating a more inclusive version of the Regency era, detailed in the author's notes at the end of each chapter. There's plenty of Georgette Heyer influence along with the Jane Austen.

What We Make of It (Shotgun Wedding) by charlottemadison

The important thing, Crowley tells himself -- the most important thing -- is Adam, his brilliant, creative, empathetic nephew. Being fourteen's hard enough; the kid didn't ask to deal with the weight of the world on top of it.

And if taking care of Adam means Crowley has to tough it out at a job he can’t stand, so be it.

And if Crowley's job means that Adam’s charming English teacher is NOT a romantic possibility, well, that's just how things go.

But the occasional drink with Aziraphale proves hard to resist. They frequent the same pub, so who can object to them saying hello? Briefly sharing a table? Perhaps a little conversation? The painful knowledge that it can’t be anything more -- not without somebody getting fired or sued or both -- well, that can't be helped.

Until Crowley stumbles onto a terribly reckless idea...

Oh my goodness, the gorgeous emotional intensity of this fic! It's the slowest of slow burns, but the pace allows ample room for the gradual realization (for both the characters and the reader) of just how well Crowley and Aziraphale's respective strengths and weaknesses mesh with each other to make a strong, stable whole. As I said about Villainous above, the story is very much worth having to skim over some scenes that are more explicit than I usually like.

You're Just a Little Under Rehearsed by MickyRC (@one-with-the-floor)

Drama teacher Crowley loves directing the Tadfield Community Players' shows—interacting with the rest of the staff at the community center, not so much. So when he meets the new accompanist for this year's musical, he's shocked to find that he might actually like him. Possibly more than like, if he's being honest.

Aziraphale is fresh from leaving a long career as a church pianist, and hoping that a new job will get him out of the lonely rut he's found himself in. The attention and kindness of the flashy community theater director are unexpected, but not unwelcome. Far from it.

But with a community theater to run, a show to put on, and a disgruntled R.P. Tyler looking for any excuse to get rid of Crowley and his theater program, will they be able to make a relationship work? And, more importantly, can they make sure the show still goes on?

Very fun and wholesome, packed with putting-on-a-play shenanigans (Peter Pan, in this case). The Crowley is Good With Kids AO3 tag is in full force here; his interactions with the younger members of the cast, especially the Them, are really well-done.

the many-venomed earth by curtaincall (@fremulon)

It’s the trial of the century: bestselling mystery author Anthony Crowley stands accused of poisoning his former lover. He’s got means (arsenic), motive (the breakup), and opportunity (a meeting the night of the murder); his guilt seems certain.

Certain, that is, to everyone except Lord Aziraphale Eastgate, rare book collector and amateur detective. Aziraphale’s not sure why he’s so convinced of Crowley’s innocence, but he’s determined to save him from the gallows--by finding the real murderer before it’s too late.

This is a mashup with Strong Poison, one of Dorothy Sayers' Lord Peter Wimsey/Harriet Vane novels, and the combination works really well. Peter’s intelligence and post-case moral qualms both transfer nicely onto Aziraphale, and the plot and characters hit the same beats as the original novel without being an exact copy.

Oneshots:

A Soft Kind of Strength by @anonymousdandelion

"Y’r soft,” Crowley mumbles one day, drowsily nuzzling into Aziraphale’s well-cushioned lap. “Ssosoft.”

Aziraphale blinks, smiles bemusedly, and ruffles his partner’s hair. “Yes, dear, I’m well aware. Go back to sleep.”

“Ssssoft,” Crowley repeats, more insistently, and it seems he hasn’t quite dozed off again after all, fixated now on whatever thought grabbed his half-asleep and half-inebriated brain. He lifts his head, rolling so he’s looking up into Aziraphale’s face. “You. Soft. S’good. Good thing. Y’know that, that, that s’good, right?”

I'm a big fan of Soft Aziraphale (in every sense of the word), and this sweet fic makes the excellent point that, rather than his being secretly strong under the softness, his softness is his strength.

Temperance by effing_gravity

In the wake of the Fauxpocalypse, Aziraphale does his utmost to live his best and pettiest life.

In which Aziraphale makes a point of both consciously ignoring Gabriel's remarks about the shape of his corporation and dispensing blessings and gentle encouragement to humans struggling with their own body image issues.

Keeping Tabs by @a-case-of-the-hiccups and FriendshipCastle

A juxtaposition of Heaven's archive of Aziraphale's miracles compared with the sadly lacking state of Hell's temptation logs.

This fic was obviously written by people with cataloguing experience! I like the OCs in charge of Heaven and Hell’s respective departments, especially the tetchy, bespectacled archivist angel Pravuil.

Adopt Don't Shop by @luckyspike

Inspired by Chekhov's cat AU comics 'Good Meowmens', here is a fanfic in which Anathema and Newt are humans, and Aziraphale and Crowley are cats. Not disguised as cats, not trapped in cat bodies, just actual elderly cats that are inseparable.

A truly excellent bit of crack! Aziraphale and Crowley’s personalities come out surprisingly clearly in their cat selves. For extra fun, play spot-the-angel/demon with the other cats at the shelter!

#good omens #fanfic #recommendations

[mister-writes]

Find the Word Tag

Thanks so much to @serenanymph for tagging me over here!

Tagging @tabswrites and @blind-the-winds! Your words are soft, stone, piece, and guess.

My words were drag, bloodshed, moon, and strain. I'm posting from Wildblood as usual haha

Drag

“Aye, it was. So when I went into the city, I sold some of my goods, then returned with the coin to the Sons in the hopes that I could get it back. And do you know what I found there?” “I can’t imagine,” Kerris replied, then tipped back another drink. The man leaned forward. “The Sons. Every one of them dead. Every one of them dragged back into their tents, lying in their own blood.” “Hm.” Kerris swallowed hard, then looked him directly in the eye. “Good luck for you, I suppose. Pity for them. Probably bandits.” “Bandits that left bags of coin and valuables behind?” “As I said, good luck for you.”

Bloodshed

Hombuth’s shoulders rose and fell with deep, slow breaths. Maedri watched him, her fingernails digging into the wood of the building beside her. “If it’s the land you want, we will leave. Immediately. Peacefully. No need for bloodshed.” Azra tilted his head to the side. The torchlight sliced across his crown. “All this time and you haven’t learned the customs of the land you inhabit, Orcoran? Tomorrow is the Feast of Verasthra. Tonight is the night of the hunt.”

Moon

The night was colder than Kerris expected, the damp air cutting beneath the collar of his coat as he lay on his stomach on the cliffside, staring across the dim form of the camp below him. The sky was mostly clouded over, letting down scarce slivers of moon and starlight. All of the cookfires had long gone out, leaving only a couple of torches lit near Reijin’s tent in the distance.

Strain

A person’s spirit tended to be far more powerful than their physical body, which was what allowed a warrior to use an aura for protection and power. The downside was that aural combat took a much higher toll on the body than a physical fight. Kerris was used to the exertion that came with it; he had pushed and strengthened himself his whole life in order to withstand the strain. The miniscule stretching and tearing of his muscles with every movement was almost as familiar as the feel of his own skin.

#mr wildblood tag #tag game #my favorite game hehe

[elenaazra]

Its your birthday?! HAPPY BIRTHDAY AZRA!🎉🎂💗🥳Hope you're having a fantastic one!

Thank you! Right now I’m celebrating with a piece of cheesecake and watching season 3 of Black Sails and the fact that I fell in love with this show is entirely your fault, for which I also thank you very much💕

#azraanswer

[poppyseed1031]

Consume Me Part 3

Ao'nung x OC Both Aged up to 23-24, ONGOING SERIES, multiple parts

Slow burn, eventual smut, kind of smut in this chapter, foreplay (I might have missed something if I did I'm so sorry!)

Theres a littttttle bit of smut in this one, the next chapter will have lots tho! This is just the introduction to it with the characters. Enjoy!:)

The flight to the secluded island wasn't horribly long, but it wasn't short. I had to muffle my chuckles of amusement a few time due to Ao'nung gripping onto me in panic if Azra moved or glided in any sudden way. His large arms were securely locked around my waist and his face went from being buried in my back to peeking over to see the ocean below us. "Oh come on, I thought you were a big strong warrior? It's just a flight!" I giggled as I finally Landed Azra in a little patch of sand by the water. "Very funny, I belong in the water, not the skies." Ao'nung huffed as he clumsily slid of my Ikran. "Maybe you can get me used to it, though." He added as he held his hand out to help me down also. I rolled my eyes a little and gently swatted him away, " I can get down myself, probably better than you silly, I am not helpless. Thank you though." I slid down to the ground gracefully and stroked my hand over Azra's neck. "I'm sure you can, my offers aren't meant to be taken as me saying you are incapable or fragile." I turned to him as he spoke and guilt swept through me. "Im sorry... I'm just used to not being... seen as more than what people assume I am I suppose. I don't mean to be rude or push you off." I dug my toes in the sad and fiddled with the waist beads I had on to avoid looking at him, why do I always do this? Why must I always embarrass myself, when we were having such a good time too. "Hey don't worry about it, and don't avoid my eyes. I like to see your face." One of his fingers slipped under my chin and gently pulled my face up so I was looking at him again, and the smile I was met with was so contagious I couldn't stop my own from spreading. 

We stared into each others eyes for a few moments, and my smile fell as his face shifted to an intense expression, almost like he was studying me. Ao'nung's finger drifted from my chin to my cheek, and he gently traces the arch of my cheekbone before letting his hand fall a little lower to my mouth. He brushed my bottom lip softly, tugging it down gently. My breathing picked up, hitching in my throat under his attention and touch, my own hands twitching at my sides to reach up and trace his face. I settled on reaching out and grabbing the wrist of his hand that was on me, squeezing softly. I was rewarded with another small smile that had my insides tingling. I managed to tear my gaze away from his and scanned the parts of the island in my eye line. The Mauri hut was in the middle of the beach, it was nestled in the middle of various flower and berry bushes, it was beautiful. Fruit trees scattered and lined the island and there was nets, spears, and baskets full of herbs and  Fresh vegetables. "Wow they really set up everything you need don't they." I noted as I took everything in. "Actually no, I just came and set things up a bit before your arrival. I wanted everything to be ready." Ao'nung's hand slid to the dip of my back and he pressed slightly to push me to walk forward while he talked. I looked up at him a bit taken aback at the gesture. "That's very sweet." I murmured and bumped into his side softly. He just smiled down at me and lead me into the Mauri. It was big, and there was a larger than normal, plush sleeping mat piled high with woven blankets and woven pillows. There was tangles of bioluminescent moss dangling from the ceiling and a carved table and chairs in the corner. "It's so pretty." I ran my hands through the moss as I walked deeper into the home and smiled over my shoulder at him. "You're so beautiful, You know that?" He breathed. I felt a blush stain the skin of my cheeks and I looked down and smiled shyly. "You're not to bad yourself." Oh, good reply Aella. Eywa he probably thinks you're a fucking idiot. 

Ao'nung watched as a dark purple hue spread across Aella's cheeks and down her neck. His eyes following as it travelled down her skin. Her glowing freckles stretched across her like a map that he wanted to trace and memorize with his tongue. He so badly hopes this went well. Not only for the futures of both clans, but for him. and you. He was so drawn to you, by your beauty, your smell, the way you spoke, the way you moved. Everything. He barely knows you, but he's completely transfixed by you. You stepped to the makeshift counter and turned to him. "I see no meat... do you not eat it?" Your head tilted to the side, making your inky hair tumble down your side like a waterfall. He couldn't help but laugh a little at your question, "No, but I heard you like to hunt, and I thought we could together, so I didn't bring any" He was absolutely delighted in the grin that overtook your features. the corner of your eyes crinkled and your nose scrunched, and your fangs poked through the grin in the most adorable way.  He watched as you plopped down on the bed, your long indigo legs stretching out in front of you. "Well I'm glad I've got prepared food in my saddle bag because I just want to relax tonight, tomorrow I will show you how a true Navi hunts thought." you joked and he let out a wonderful laugh that filled the space, nodding in agreement before he took a few short steps and settled down beside you, trying to be discrete in making sure his thight pressed firmly against yours. "So, tell me something. Anything."  You put a finger on your lips as you mock thought on his request, your honey orbs looking up through your lashes at the ceiling. Fuck did that do something to him, to his mind. Images of you, on your knees, looking up at him like that with his cock shoved down your throat played through his mind, making him twitch in his loincloth.

Ao'nung and I spent the next few hours into the evening swapping stories from our lives. I told him all about growing up in the forest, the love I felt for it. Adventures that are burned into my memories that always bring a smile to my face. And I told him the painful things. Things like my parents, and the constant search and yearning for their love and approval that always ended up in me being left empty handed and disappointed. About the sky people coming back, the war. About my relationships and experience. He listened intently, telling me his own about the reef and sea, his childhood memories and all his friends and hobbies, his bustling family dynamic and the pressure of being son of the Chief. Most of his stories making me smile so big my cheeks hurt. He seemed so genuine, so sure of himself, always the helping hand, even if he did admit to having a cocky, reckless streak that sometimes made him seem like an ass, like he was brash and hard. How we wanted so badly to have the chance to have someone he loved that he WANTED to be soft with.

Then he told me about the girls he had been with, and jealously had pinged in my chest at the thought. He's a very handsome Navi. Tall and muscular. Rugged. And the idea of all the competition I have made my stomach curl unpleasantly. Was he still sleeping with anyone? Was he in love with someone? Was I doomed to a life where I'm just a cover for the clans while he sought out pleasure and comfort in someone else's arms? 

His large hand splayed over my shoulder, tugging me out of my thoughts abruptly. "What's going on in that pretty head of yours?" His voice was low, gravely. And it sent a shiver down my spine. "Oh, nothing. I was just.. I don't know." I tried to shrug it off nonchalantly but it must not of worked, because he lowered his face closer to mine, his expression skeptical. "Tell me, Sevin. We must be open with each other for this to work properly. No hiding." His breath fanned over my face and I closed my eyes for a moment, collecting my thoughts that had scattered due to the close proximity. "I am... Nothing like the women here. I am not.. your type. I cannot compete with already formed feelings." My voice sounded small even to me despite trying to make myself sound firm. He hummed in the back of his throat lowly as he closed his eyes and brushed his nose against mine softly. My breath hitched in shock and joy at the unexpected affection, my skin tingling where his touched. "Little one, I have only known you for a very short time, but the things I already feel for you are things I've never felt for anyone. Eywa brought you to me, right on the back of that ikran out there, I've never been more sure of anything. And as far as the other women and their looks. NO ONE holds a candle to you. Those women are all I've known yes, but just looking at you. At those big molten honey eyes, these plump soft lips.. " His fingers traced the contours of my face as he spoke in a soft, sultry tone, " your dimples when you smile, the tanhí all over you that I want to map out with my mouth, your small, slender body that I just want to wrap around me, and your skin, eywa, so soft, so supple, like an ocean of beautifully striped indigo I want to drown in. Just looking at you makes my cock twitch." I couldn't breathe, couldn't move. Ao'nung had moved closer while he spoke, his lips brushing over mine with every word. My heart sped as he studied me, as he took me in. My body started to ache, ache for him to touch me in anyway. "I want to spend hours committing every inch of you into my memory. I want to feel every part of you pressed so close into me we don't know where I begin and you end." Oh for the love of Eywa, This man. My body tingled, my breath coming out in small pants that fanned his face, and I couldn't help it, the urge, the need, the want, whatever you want to call it. I pulled him into me by the back of the neck and pressed my lips to his, it was sloppy, teeth clashing and tongues brushing as his lips molded over mine.

He let out a sound that seemed to be a mix between a moan and a growl, and I squeezed my thighs together at it, heat pooling in my lower stomach and spreading to my core. I trailed my fingers over his broad shoulders, down his back, dragging my nails lightly down his turquoise-green skin. He crawled over me, gently forcing me to lay flat on the blanket covered mat as he slotted his muscular frame between my legs, holding his weight up so he wouldn't crush me. Engulfing me in him. Our lips moved frantically over each other, each of us not getting enough of a taste of the other. The hand that wasn't propping him up travelled up my body, squeezing the plush of my thighs and earning a whimper. My hips rutted up into his on their own free will and he chuckled softly, but didn't say anything, just kept grabbing handfuls of my flesh in those big strong hands I was growing to love. His grip moved up to my waist and he hummed appreciatively and rubbed little circles into the skin of my hip bone with his thumb for a moment before moving on. When he made is way up to my chest and ran his thumb over my perked nipple my back bowed, mouth breaking from his to let out a loud gasp. "Oh Eywa." I moaned as he continued to roll my nipple around in his fingers, grasping handfuls of my breast as he kneed them softly. He drug his lips down my neck, his tongue coming out to swipe over my sweet spot. "You taste just as good as you smell." He growled as he nipped at my pulse point. I could't find words, my body was on fire in the best way, like fire was licking through my veins and he was the remedy as well as the reason. My hands tangled into his hair and tugged him down until his mouth was on the other, neglected nipple. He quickly enveloped it in his mouth, sucking and nipping before moving on to the swell of my breast and doing the same. I couldn't help the moan that escaped when his fangs grazed the sensitive skin and I felt him smile against me before he continued sucking, forming small purple marks that were a stark contrast to my blue. I snaked the hand that wasn't tangled in his hair down the barely there space between our bodies and tugged at the band of his loincloth with a whimper. "Please." I sounded pathetic even to myself, and I hated that he made me this way, but I couldn't help it. My body was aching for him, screaming for him to fill me to the brim with his cock and fuck me until I was stupid. He tsked with his tongue playfully and pulled my hand away from him, earning a frustrated whine. "Ao'nung please, I need you to fuck me." I looked up at his face now and the sight made my already moist loincloth worse. His pupils were blown so much that I could only see a small sliver of green that lined the ring of black. Lust was dripping off of his face, making my own arousal physically drip down my thighs. "I know you want me little one, I can smell you." He growled, nostrils flaring, "And it's taking everything in me not to thrust my cock into, feel?" He rutted against me, letting me feel his rock hard erection straining through his loincloth as it pressed against my clothed cunt, "But I cannot take you like this, as much as I want to, as much as you're making me fucking feral. We will do it right, when we bond that way, it will be special, but don't worry sevin, we can do everything else in the meantime." The growl of his voice made me keen as he travelled down my body, all tongue and teeth, his blown gaze locked on mine. 

When he reached the heat between my thighs the noise he let out was a borderline snarl as he shoved his nose right against my core, taking big inhale through the soaked fabric. Throwing my head back with a moan I wondered if I could cum from this alone, his hot breath fanning over me as he nuzzled his nose deeper into the cloth barrier separating him from my heat and letting out low growls of his own arousal while he rutted into the plush of the sleeping mat to get some friction of his own. 

#avatar fluff #avatar #avatar the way of water #avatar 2 #atwow #ao'nung smut #ao'nung x fem!reader #ao'nung fanfiction #ao'nung fic #ao'nung #avatar x reader #avatar smut

[blazenfire223]

[ID in undercut]

⚠️⚠️CW: Some blood and injuries on slide 2 ⚠️⚠️

Ineffable Rev AU tober Days 12-14

Day 12- Spider, Day 13- Chains, Day 14- Sexy

It's far past October but this was a project for me and I've finally gotten back to doing it after a while. I only have 3 prompts left to finish. I'm quite proud of these pieces. Damien in the last bit was a joke for him because he was once in the circus because he would absolutely HATE being in that position or doing anything like that if he could help it. Then for Sariel that was based on my ideas for after they originally fell to Earth.

The spiders Ana (Star Weaver AU), Anna (Happy Demons AU), and Zi (Star Weaver (Gone Wrong) AU) and Azra (Bun and Dove AU) all belong to my beloved friend @/chibiq122 on instagram

[ID: A traditional drawing of Ana, Anna, and Zi, chibiq122's (and partially by blazenfire223) 3 spider demons. In the top left is Ana, the tiniest and a jumping spider, perched on Raph's hand and waving towards the viewer. Then below is Zi, the largest and a tarantula, in Raphael's hand and then finally, to the left is Anna, the between and only one without a known spider species, perched on Crowley's (also known as Fang) head. The background is blue and at the top left is the words Day 12. Spider. /End ID]

[ID 1/4: A 3 panel comic. Panel 1: a far away shot that shows Sariel's full, naked and rather bloody and burned body on display. They are chained up by the wrists and have their head down. Their one golden wing is also out and chained as well. The background is just dark. Panel 2: A closer shot of Sariel's face. It's shrouded in shadow and you can't see their expression. Panel 3: A closer shot of their eyes; the left is gold while the other is a bright glowing blue. They are pissed.

[ID 2/4: Part 1/2 of Day 14. Sexy: Fem Azra from Chibiq122's Bun and Dove AU facing forward on her stomach with her cleavage all out and her feet crossed over in the air behind her. She has her head tilted to the left and her left hand holding her cheek as she smiles. She also has her bunny ears out.

[ID 3/4: 2/2 of Day 14. Sexy: Damien from blazenfire223's Blind Bear AU in a sexy men's clown outfit. He is on his knees and looking up with a half lidded, submissive expression.

[ID 4/4: The ineffable Reverse AU prompt list. There are 31 days. 1. Meet the cast, 2. Comfy, 3. Wound, 4. RIP, 5. First Meet, 6. Witch, 7. Weapon, 8. Mushrooms, 9. Memory, 10. Protective, 11. Tempt, 12. Spider, 13. Chains, 14. Sexy, 15. Picnic, 16. Star, 17. Poison, 18. Ancient Portrait, 19. Fire, 20. Water, 21. Moss, 22. Baked Goods, 23. Claws/Teeth/Talons, 24. Buttons, 25. Necklace, 26. Cross-over, 27. Magic, 28. Doll, 29. Sweets, 30. Happily Ever After, 31. Trick or Treat prompt list by @/blazenfire223. They can be found on Instagram, Tumblr, Twitter, artfol, youtube, and ao3. /End ID]

#good omens #ineffable husbands #bun and dove au #aziracrow #blazenfire223 #blazenfire223's art #good omens art stuffs #blind bear au #star weaver au #star weaver gone wrong au #ineffablerevautober

[azrasxyildiz]

( asena keskinci .  cis woman .  she/her )  - the  new  york  city  resident , azra yildiz ,  was  seen  sporting  prada  on  park  avenue  today .  the  twenty eight  year  old  is  a  socialite  in  the  city  &  has  been  here  for her entire life .  since  being  here  ,  they  have  been  told  to  be  hot headed  ,  but  also  flirtatious ,  who  really  knows  !  according  to  nycslam  ,   she had an affair with a married man .  anyways  ,  guess  we'll  find  out  for  ourselves  !  [  dani  ,  27  ,  gmt ,  she/her ]

BASICS

Full Name: Azra Yildiz

Nickname: Az, A, Azzie

Age: 28

DOB: February 14th 1996

Parents: Hazal & Emre Yildiz

Siblings: one older sister, one older brother both open

Hair colour: natural redhead, kept long and tidy

Eye colour: brown

Piercings & tattoos: here

Sexuality: Bisexual

Occupation: Socialite

Inspo: paris hilton, kendall & kylie jenner, hailey baldwin, nicole richie, kaia gerber

LINKS

pinterest

connections

BIOGRAPHY

tw: tba

Her dad being a renowned actor and her mother a model it meant that there was always some sort of attention around her since her birth as well as her family being in the public eye.

As she got older and she was pictured more in public there seemed to be some sort of buzz about her.  The tabloids loved her.. or even loved to hate her in some cases, internet became more popular and with that came social media and people loved to talk about her.

Azra fell into the socialite life very easily with her name, her family status, it was hard not to fall down that line of work. She had no idea what she wanted to do with her life, she didn't know what career to choose, whether or not she wanted to follow her mother or fathers footsteps or choose her own career path. She let it happen naturally and this is what came of it.

She is a bright person, her personality can be unmatched and she is definitely not afraid to stand up for herself or give her opinion. She is a loud mouth, she has an attitude and she is full of eye rolls.

#richfm:intro

[azraiisms]

something in the orange tells me we're not done

azra demir

tw for bio/history: death/parental death

basics.

full name: azra yasemin demir

nickname(s): n/a

age: 29

birthday: october 9th

star sign: libra

gender/pronouns: cis female, she/her

sexuality: bisexual

aesthetics: late night streetlights, watching the sunset, singing to the car radio, hot coffee, bonfires, high ponytails & autumn showers

borough: brooklyn

occupation: photographer

appearance.

faceclaim: hande ercel

height: 5'3

piercings: n/a

tattoos: n/a

personality.

+traits: determined, resilient, disciplined

- traits: cynical, guarded, distant

family.

siblings (0/2); azra has two older brothers, whom she adores. they were very close as kids, but since she packed up and left her hometown 6 months ago, she hasn't been in contact with them.

[ note: these will hopefully be wcs! ]

ex-fiancee (0/1); 6 months ago, azra got very cold feet after his proposal and the subsquent wedding planning. as a result, she packed up and left their hometown behind and hasn't looked back.

[ note: this is definitely a wc! ]

biography.

azra was born & raised in beaufort, north carolina. her parents had emigrated several years before, before the birth of their first child. if anyone had asked, she would have been happy to spend the rest of her life there. she was raised in a happy family, the youngest of three siblings & the only girl. their mother passed away when azra was eight, and the demir father tried his hardest to keep everything together and provide for their family.

the demir's were a close knit family, with azra always trailing at her elder brother's heels, desperate to play along and get involved with everything that they were into. she was a tomboy at heart and loved getting into trouble with her brothers, though she seemed to always be the one to get off lightest.

azra was a bright kid but became bored easily in school, leading to get often getting into more trouble than it was worth. that only extended when she got to high school and met a boy - in the beginning, azra didn't quite know how much that was going to change her life.

the two fell in love, they got together when azra was 16, graduated high school together and moved into their first apartment. after they'd gotten together, their lives became entirely entangled - something that azra didn't realise would be an issue until much, much later.

azra hadn't cared too much for the idea of college, and whilst her boyfriend was getting his degree, she was gaining life experience - working in different jobs and environments, making friends, and living her life.

they'd been together for over a decade when her boyfriend eventually proposed - and that was the beginning of the end. it was a downward spiral that azra hadn't prepared herself for - but it changed everything that she thought she wanted in live.

azra began having second thoughts, wondering if there should have been more to life, if they had rushed into all of this, if they were just too young... and that panic quickly took over any rational thought that she could have had about the situation.

azra left in the middle of the night, leaving nothing but an apology note. that was six months ago. she's been in new york ever since, taking every opportunity to find all of the things it's felt as though she was missing out on.

#boroughs.intro #intro; #tw death

[aziraphales-library]

Hello! Thank you all for your generous work in the community! after s2 I need some really fluffy fanfic because I ache,

I need something very very fluffy, totally non-explicit, asexual, I love some fat aziraphale related fluff, maybe a length of 4k-50k? It can be more or less. I have read everything from ineffablefool. human au are preferable, but if it isn’t it’s also fine.

Anyway, thank you very much for your time, I appreciate all you do <3 :)

Hi! We have tags for all this: #fluff, #asexual, #chubby aziraphale, #human au. Here are some fics that may or may not have already been recommended...

with the help of a cat, or two by whicorzoo (G)

In which the cat in the window of the flat right across from Crowley's is unfairly perfect, so on a particularly whimsical night, he decides to put up a sign in his window to tell his neighbor as much. By morning, he's forgotten about it, until he sees it in his window and regrets the decision entirely. He expects to have his cool, intimidating facade never taken seriously again. He does not expect a response.

The Art of Human Nature by IneffableDoll (T)

Crowley is a painter who has only ever had an eye for nature. That is, until a client named Aziraphale commissions her for a painting to boost her self-confidence, and Crowley discovers that her client is as beautiful as the Earth itself. Then she goes and catches feelings, because she’s a disaster.

Therein Lies The Beauty by BlackUnicorn (NR)

After receiving an unexpected invitation to his brother’s wedding, an unfortunate realisation about his old suit, and the inconvenient news that his trusted tailor had closed down, Azra Fell finds himself in Devil’s Wear and his world turned upside down. OR Two trans tragedies accidentally steal each other's hearts and then simply never give them back.

Around the World in 80 Cakes by cookie_full_of_arsenic (T)

This is a queerplatonic love story between Aziraphale and Crowley. Or possibly between Aziraphale and cake. There will be recipes because I'm extra.

Across the Line by hope_in_the_dark (T)

Ezra is a student in his final year at University College London, and he’s in love with a man he’s never spoken to. For months, Ezra has been tipping (and pining after) a musician named Crowley every time he sees him. He thinks that Crowley hasn’t noticed him, but Crowley has. A love story that begins with, of all things, the saving and handing over of a book.

Do I wanna know? by KissMyAsthma (M)

Aziraphale and Anathema are both closeted queer people, and they decide to do what any sensible closeted queer people do - they form a fake relationship, to shut the mouths of their families and shoo away unwanted suitors. Their comfortable arrangement is put into question when a school reunion makes Aziraphale reconnect - or connect, really - with his school crush, Anthony Crowley. But past is past, and now that they’re both adults, Aziraphale is just glad to make a friend. If the friend finds himself interested in Aziraphale… Well, there’s nothing for him to do since Aziraphale is taken, right?

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #ineffable wives #fluff #human au #asexual #asexual relationship #chubby aziraphale #mod d

[another-lost-mc]

have you ever thought of making an oc who's part of the brothers' family? the devs world building skills are a good 7/10 for me in general especially when it comes to the brothers' defection and their life prior in the celestial realm but when you take their dynamic after the fall + them turning into demons, it gets kinda hard to insert an oc in all that...? (at least for me lol)

i got curious bcs i love your ocs so much! pretty sure you're the only writer whose ocs i cared enough to know more lol karasu is my absolute favorite <33

I think inserting an OC into the brothers' family unit is tricky. Demons (or angels) that have established relationships with them somehow, before or after the fall, is probably the closest I'll get.

Most of my OCs are ways to build up everything else around the brothers that we don't really get to experience playing the game. The Devildom (and the Celestial Realm) are these huge worlds of their own. It's disappointing that we don't really see any other demons or angels other than the ones we directly interact with, but with so many dateable characters, I understand there's not much space to do that.

Other than the obvious "giving MC demons friends/love interests that aren't canon" role, I write my OCs with these ideas in mind:

Karasu — He connects MC with the Devildom using a format (technology) that they use and understand. He's less powerful than the brothers but still has some name recognition. He's also close with Mammon and works alongside Lucifer/Barbatos at times so his story is a way of viewing the demon brothers' family bond and impact on the Devildom from an outsider's pov. He's an example of a demon that doesn't act like a demon...usually.

Azra — He knew the brothers before they fell. In modern times, he owns The Fall which means they cross paths a lot. Certain brothers know/like him more than than others (Asmo and possibly Mammon/Satan). He's an example of a demon that's not afraid to antagonize Lucifer and his backstory prior to the exchange program is an example of some of the not-great things demons are known for.

Zekhan — He's less powerful than the other demon OCs and is meant to be an example of what a "regular" Devildom citizen might look like. His backstory has a lot of worldbuilding around the previous wars that took place with the Celestial Realm and how that history might influence a demon's opinion of the exchange program in present times.

Bathin — I wanted a child demon OC to explore what growing up in the Devildom might look like. He comes from a very well-known family but he has his own hardships to deal with. Prior to Nightbringer, I was really intrigued by Mephisto's relationship with his younger brother and I wanted to explore that dynamic more (I was too impatient for the game to do that).

I think the closest OC I have where I play a bit fast-and-loose with canon is Diavolo's older half-sibling (I still can't decide on a name for him). His existence is based on my headcanon that there's no way the demon king only sired a single child. I don't like Diavolo much but writing him as the younger brother in a sibling dynamic makes him more interesting. Plus, I really wanted to give him someone he could still love/care about (in a familial way) that wasn't Barbatos, Lucifer or MC.

My angel OC's are meant to do explore the world of the Celestial Realm which we know even less about than the Devildom. They also have their own perspectives about Michael and the brothers before and after the fall. The exchange program opens up new possibilities for them to reconnect (or not).

#jes.replies #jes: oc asks #jes.world building #my oc: karasu #my oc: azra #my oc: zekhan #my oc: bathin #my oc: tenebris #my oc: metatron #my oc: gabriel #my oc: uriel

[legendsofmyriad]

Legends of Myriad: Arc One - Chapter 22: Making Headway

Calloused palms outstretched, Azra influenced another fork of red magic into the writhing tempest. Crimson and ruby washed along the riled grey to lend comfort to the terrified souls inside. It’s all right, he soothed, detaching the remaining life force from the ashes. You can rest now. 

He lost track of time and the number of spirits he helped on their way, but eventually, the shrieks and cries subsided. What had greeted him as a frenzied mass tempered beneath his power, departing the realm of the living with whispered gratitude and a final, relieved breath.  

Boot soles crunched at the excess grit and sand on the patio behind him. Her presence ghosted up his nape to tickle at his cheeks. The alluring, sweet aroma of deadly Osimer blooms that followed in her wake captivated his senses, and stabilising his magic, he stole a quick glimpse. Delicate lilac flecks in her eyes shifted as she observed him. 

“I brought you some water and something to eat,” Lilith said, carrying the covered plate and the filled bottle to the bench. “Professor Spark asked me to remind you not to overwork yourself.” 

Azra pondered whether Bartholomew had requested she relay that message or if it was a ploy to disguise her own concern. Regardless, he grunted in acknowledgement and attempted to return to his work, but her proximity flustered him, the staggering emotions emanating from her provoking his concentration. 

“The storm isn’t proving too difficult to fix,” he told her, low and distant, hoping to quell her uncertainty. 

“I didn’t ask.”

“No, but I can feel it.” With a slight dip of his head, he inhaled deep and slow. “Or are you forgetting what my power permits me to see?” 

Teeth gritted and fingers flexing, Lilith endeavoured to conceal her mounting agitation. “How could I forget,” she replied levelly, a biting undertone lacing her voice, “when that same power caused so much harm?” 

Azra’s arms buckled under a rippling pang, but he managed to brace himself against the uncomfortable sensation. Within the depths of his wounded soul, he wanted to apologise, to mend the fractures between them and leave the war in the past. But the more he ruminated, the more he wondered whether it would be simpler if she held on to that animosity she harboured for him. Would it be fairer to let her get on with her life without him, never having to see his face and be haunted by the memories of the lives he plundered, the friendships and loved ones he callously ripped away? With him gone, she had the chance to start anew, free from the constant reminder of the heartache he had inflicted. 

“Don’t worry, I won’t be staying long,” he assured her, continuing to hush the storm. “I’m going back to Solgarde as soon as this is done.”

“Rather presumptuous of you to think I’d worry,” Lilith shot before she could withhold the remark. Once it was out, there was no stopping the rest. “No, you’re perfectly capable of looking out for yourself. And only yourself. Altair keeps telling me you are remorseful, but you are just as cagey as ever. Or is that only with me?” Her chest rose and fell with her pounding breaths in a rhythmic dance of exertion as she expelled the discomfort from her body. “It doesn’t matter. At least I know once you have served your purpose, you will be leaving.”

Her words crashed into him like arrows, nesting in the devotion he housed for her and meshing into a spinous wreckage. Tainted and split, her own affection cracked even more. Little of the light remained. 

That time is over, he reminded himself, imagining the faded imprint on her heart where her love had once flourished and bloomed year after year. His own flickered just as waning. Do not do this to yourself. Do not do this to her. 

He bit the inside of his mouth until he almost tasted blood, fighting back the crushing desire to confess every shred of fondness he still nurtured for her. Footsteps fading, he allowed the solitude consume him. 

It would be better this way. By isolating himself and his destructive gifts, he could decrease the likelihood of inflicting more pain. He would provide help wherever possible, but then he would vanish again. A ghost. A spectre. 

Collapsing onto the bench, he cleared the residues of magic fizzling on his palms. With some reluctance, he decided to take a longer break than planned to allow the more persistent marks to melt before resuming his task. He knew he should have worn gloves, but he loathed the restraint of the taut fabric and clasps burrowing into his wrists. 

He squirmed and manoeuvred until his back met the wall, and placed the plate that Lilith had brought him on his lap. A bowl of shrew berries, citrus pieces, and an assortment of oat clusters rested in the middle of the platter. 

How many times had she silently delivered him food and water in the early hours, restless nights ravaged by work? How many yawns had she hidden to hold her warm body against his and ward off the unforgiving nighttime chill? Rarely had she instructed him to go to sleep or acknowledged the exhausted, bruised smudges under his eyes. Instead, she had loved him. Supported him in ways he didn’t deserve, and now… now all of that was lost. 

He popped a cluster and a dripping section of yellow fruit into his mouth, wondering whether that was for the best. Let the past rest, he told himself. Let time seal the hurt. For you and for her. 

Determined not to dwell on matters she couldn’t resolve, Lilith briskly made her way into the lab. Waves of heat from the working machinery engulfed her, washing away the stinging cold and soothing her bitter aches. She would have traded anything to be in the common room at The Citadel, cocooned in a fluffy blanket with a steaming hot tea in hand. Rain ricocheting off the windowpane until it was dampened by the insistent crackles beneath the engraved mantelpiece. Tiny gusts tunnelling down the chimney for attention and coaxing the flames. Peace. That was what she wanted. A quiet hush that melted her worries, a pocket of time where she was permitted to exist without expectations or obligation. 

Yet she didn’t have the luxury of lingering in those comforting thoughts. The Core needed waking, Myriad teetered on a precipice, and the flickering fireplace and tempestuous nights would have to wait until the nine worlds were secure. 

Clicking over tile and aged wood, she loosened the first few buttons on her jacket and fanned the heat from her face as the churning equipment became almost stifling. 

“Ah, there you are!” Bartholomew said, excitement exuding from his features and his eyes shining with renewed enthusiasm. “Come, I have something to show you.” 

Lilith followed him to the cluttered worktable, books and browning research papers haphazardly scattered and piled along the surface. Findings and ideas were already taking shape in the opened notepads resting on the corner of the wide desk. 

“This may be a bit of a stretch, but I believe if it is conducted correctly, it has a high chance of success,” Professor Spark said as he shuffled the sheets and located the required textbook. “To wake The Core, we need to kick start the ecosystem.”

“Like plant trees and clear the atmosphere?” Lilith questioned. 

“Not exactly.” He flipped the pages and tapped on a diagram that showcased the intricate connections between four distinct elements, arrows and cryptic symbols intertwining them. “A long time ago, The Core gave these blessings to four of the worlds of Myriad when they were in need. A magical bird was given to Delorem, pure temporal essence to Eternity, a unique water to Skuld, and a rare mineral to Prosperia. Nothing could taint them or mix with them, so they should still be in their original states.”

“Even the bird?” 

“It does not breed as others of its kind do. Their numbers may dwindle, but they would never go extinct. Combined, these four elements have the ability to restore the land.”

As she contemplated the plan, she grazed her fingertips over the musty, crinkled maps, wandering around the stones and trinkets holding down their edges. It spread out to her like a promise, inviting her into a world of adventure and untold stories. And at that precise moment, vulnerable. The few things she had read about The Core since arriving at the lab were enough to indicate how severe the matter was. With little time to spare, they were racing to keep ahead of the ticking clock, and each passing hour amplified the threat of impending chaos. 

“Two academy students are already in Eternity and Delorem, so I will contact them with the details,” Bartholomew explained. “While they are collecting the bird feather and the temporal essence, you and I can travel to Skuld and Prosperia.”

“Sounds like a good plan to me, professor,” she agreed. 

“I shall call them now. Be prepared to leave once I return.” Lilith playfully saluted, her mischievous grin matching his own, and he bounded down the steps to the communication console. 

“Off on another venture,” Altair commented quietly, relaxing against the low worktable. Despite the excitement in her aura, he noticed the wearied, thought-ridden pinch on the bridge of her nose. He didn’t need to question what occupied her mind. He knew the cause was outside fixing the storm as they spoke. 

Without uttering a word, he brought her in for a supportive embrace. “It will be all right,” he promised. “You will grow around the wounds.”

“I thought keeping my distance would make it easier,” she admitted, “but it hasn’t. One second, I see him wanting to say something, and the next the icy wall descends, and it’s like we never knew each other at all. I haven’t exactly helped, I’m fully aware of that, but… I wish he would just say what he needs to.” She stepped back, inhaling the warm air to suppress the surge of emotions threatening to overflow.

“I shall talk to him while you are away,” Altair offered. “It would hardly be fair for me to speak my mind with you about the situation and not him. Who knows? Perhaps we can resolve this. Find a way for you both to be comfortable.”

“It would take a miracle, but if you’re up for the challenge, you may do as you wish,” Lilith said. “But right now, duty calls, and I had better not keep it waiting.”

Bartholomew adjusted the dial inch by inch, fine-tuning the frequency and flicking the switches beside it as he listened for a stable rhythm within the static hiss. Fluctuations in the communication lines disrupted the visual display, stubbornly persisting before an abrupt pop terminated the transmission for a fourth time. With a grumble, he planted his hands on his hips. 

Stooping over the controls, he flipped through Oscar’s reports, skimming the vivid descriptions of various types of flora and occasional anecdotes about his travels. Weeks had passed since he last wrote, briefly describing an outskirt village he had come across and his eagerness to delve into his next research endeavour. 

With a flick of his wrist, Professor Spark activated the holographic map, projecting a detailed model of the area Oscar had mentioned. “Swamp land,” he muttered to himself as he enhanced the image of the watery copse. “No atmospheric disturbances, no localised weather events, no magical traces.” 

If Bartholomew hadn’t become accustomed to Lilith’s aura, he would not have realised she was standing right behind him until she spoke, her footsteps so light she may as well have been a mouse. “Is there a problem?” she asked. 

“I cannot reach Oscar,” he answered. “He is currently on Lucarian charting vegetation growth for me, but my attempts to communicate are being blocked.” 

“By him?”

“No. There seems to be some sort of disruption to the connection.” 

“Is he okay?” Lilith questioned sharply, mind alight and poised for action. “Did he mention anything unusual or voice any concerns before you lost contact?” 

In a composed gesture, Bartholomew turned from the map and shook his head. “At this stage, there is no need to panic. Since the gateways are still re-establishing themselves, signals can waver and take a while to settle. We should be able to talk to him soon.” She concealed her doubts behind a calm facade, but the slight crease by her eyes betrayed her apprehension. “Professor Bevan, perhaps you could monitor the Lucarian channels for me while Lilith and I are away?” 

Altair hummed his agreement and huffed a memory-filled breath. “You wouldn’t believe the mishaps Citadel students can get into, yet they always manage to find their way back.”

“Not all of them,” Lilith said, two sets of bespectacled gazes resting on her. 

Glimmers of remorse festered, and Altair lowered his chin. He supposed, when he dug through the thick layer of optimism he liked to approach situations with, that not every student returned. Some were left scarred, some wheeled home on clicker horses, tormented by what they had experienced. And some never made it. All those empty classroom chairs, all those spaces where they had once shone with energy and ambition. Curiosity had grown bored with them and abandoned them to wither. It wasn’t always glorious adventure they found, but a cruel reality that was not as merciful as fairy stories. 

“I am certain that it is a signal issue,” Bartholomew assured them. “The tablet I gave him is active, and I have set up a memo for him. Once the link is back, he should receive it.”

“I will keep a close eye on the communications,” Altair promised. He glanced over to Lilith, offering her a reassuring look that smoothed away the furrow of worry. 

Bartholomew patted the man’s shoulder in gratitude and made long-legged strides around the lab, gathering items from drawers and cabinets and stuffing them into his satchel. “All going to plan, our venture should not take up too much time. I know where to locate the mineral in Prosperia, and the folk on Skuld used to be rather friendly, so if that is still the case, I cannot see us encountering any problems in attaining the water.”

“Until logistics find a way of intervening,” Lilith pointed out. “Never assume something will run smoothly just because you expect it to. Theory and practice are two different beasts.”

“Spoken like a true warrior,” Bartholomew noted. “In any case, we should get going. I shall prepare the gateway.”

Lilith’s unblinking scrutiny dawdled on him until he was out of earshot, and she redirected her focus to Altair. “Contact me as soon as you receive any news from Oscar,” she said, “because if we do not hear from him by the time I return, I’ll find a way to Lucarian and bring him home myself. I refuse to let anybody make a habit of putting our students in danger, I don’t care who they think they are or what power they possess.” 

“Of course, Commander Cleaver,” the professor of magic replied, sensing the combative instinct within her taking over. “You will be the first to know. And if we are dealing with a tricky situation, I have ways of getting a message to Sunbreak agents.” She offered him a grateful nod, and he reciprocated the expression, wordlessly expressing his support of her judgement; the pupils of the Citadel had endured enough, and despite Bartholomew’s intentions and his budding friendship, Altair would not allow innocents to be cast into the flames in order to test the severity of the inferno. 

#legends of myriad #legendsofmyriad #fantasy #fantasy writing #story series #writblr #writeblr #creative writing #fantasy story #writing #fantasy series #original fiction #original fic #original writing

[prolix-principality]

Villainous - IneffablePenguin

Once Upon A Time… There was a red-haired sorcerer who lived alone in a high tower, and a blond prince who lived in a palace full of people. And they were both of them desperately lonely.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30248922/

Good Omens: Crow/Anthony (Crowley), Azra (Aziraphale), Serafina (a horse), Michael (OC?), Gabriel, Hastur, Belz (Beelzebub), Ligur, Dagon, Tracy, Anathema, misc characters 31 chapters; 216,546 words. ~ The Kingdoms of Empyrion and the Sorcerers of Apollyon have hated each other for hundreds of years, ever since the Great War. They do not interact, other than to occasionally try to kill one another. And they certainly do not make friends.Crow is an exhausted sorcerer who just wants everyone to leave him the hell alone: for the Sorcerer’s Council to stop harassing him to live up to his potential, and for wannabe Empyrion Heroes to stop attacking his tower to try and kill him. Until one day when he meets Prince Azra of the High Fells, who doesn’t behave anything like he’s supposed to… ~ Warning: illustrated, sex, food, (sometimes excessive) alcohol, frequent violence/murder, blood/injuries/unconsciousness/serious head wounds, fire, abduction, past! parent death, possible trichotillania trigger, minor character death, various excrements/bodily functions, disgusting/horrible hypotheticals, unsanitary/unsafe settings/pests, abusive family, mentioned decapitation/animal cruelty/insect death, some body/size thoughts/shaming, ableist language, discussion of age differences/arranged marriages/(hypothetical) incest, pressure to have kids, (indirect) ass-to-mouth, plant threatening ~ Podfic Available - SkyAsimaru

#Villainous #gomensfr #ficrec #our own side #aufr #epicfr #fantasyfr #royalfr #adventurefr #angstfr #flowersfr #romance #favefr #slow burn #humor #podfr

[the-fortemps-hare]

Fluffvember Day 8 -Thought I lost you

It had been several days, possibly a week since Azra had appeared out of nowhere late at night to crash in the room they always kept ready for him. Then early the next morning he had disappeared again without a word, the Fortemps shield on his back alongside his bow, that Artoirel had given him so long ago.

Since then Artoirel had felt restless, an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach. So he found himself at the place he often came nowadays to think. Haurchefant's memorial.

For a while the young Count knelt in front of his brother's memorial, saying his prayers and just telling him about the developments in Ishgard. Then his mind fell silent and for a long moment there was no sound but the whispers of the wind.

You need to go.

A sudden warmth spread from his shoulder, almost like a gentle touch.

He needs you.

Artoirel didn't know if it was divine providence or simply his own mind playing tricks on him, but the tight feeling in his stomach grew stronger and as much as his upbringing dictated that he had to stay and take care of family affairs, Artoirel still began to run.

Run run run. Run to the next Aetheryte, the next opportunity to get to Limsa Lominsa and buy his way onto a boat heading for Old Sharlayan.

Every time he looked over the vast seas he prayed to Halone that he was not to late. That he would see Azra again and finally find the courage to tell him. Please let that deary morning not have been his last missed chance. How should he ever stand before Haurchefant again if he truly managed to miss his final opportunity to tell Azra that he loved him? ~~~

One thing Azra was very aware of since he had regained consciousness, was the pain in every single muscle of his body. Sure Alphinaud and Urianger had done their best to mend the worst of his wounds, but still his body was exhausted beyond believe.

All he wanted was to go home and see the smiling faces of his friends. It wouldn't feel real until he could see with his own eyes, that they were still save and sound. And then there was another thing. Artoirel's face flashed in his mind again as he thought back to those lonely moments as he had thought that his life was forfeit. That in exchange for saving his friends and family, he would be destined to take his last breaths at the edge of reality.

As he had looked back on his life in these moments, he had quickly realized that there was only one regret in his heart. His childish fear of telling Artoirel of his feelings. After causing Haurchefant's death, Azra had been terrified to let anybody too close, too worried that they would get pulled into the crossfire just like Haurchefant had. How could he show his face to Count Edmont if he managed to kill another of his children? He could never bear the pain that would cause the older Elezen.

„Come now. Let's get you to into a proper bed.“ Thancred spoke softly, a lopsided smile playing around his lips as he took Azra's right arm to place around his neck and support the Viera as they stepped out of the Ragnarok. Dacien was one of the first to welcome them home, immediately going in to embrace Estinien, partially to congratulate him and partially to make sure that his part time boyfriend was not hurt overly much.

Before they could move much farther they heard fast steps clanking on the metal floor and as Azra looked up to the entrance of the hangar, he couldn't believe what he was seeing. Artoirel.

Heavily gasping for air and his hands on his knees, there was indeed Artoirel, looking straight at him.

Without another thought, Azra ran, his gaze fixed on the dark haired Elezen and his arms outstretched towards him he ran up the ramp, right into Artoirel's open arms. „I was afraid I had lost you.“ Artoirel spoke quietly, his voice heavy with emotion as he pressed his face against Azra's hair, his arms wrapped tightly around the Viera. „I love you.“

Tears ran silently along Azra's cheeks at those words. He had known, ever since he had witnessed an Echo of Artoirel and Haurchefant discussing the young Count's feelings for him, but to actually hear them, meant for his ears. It was different, something special.

„I love you too.“ He whispered almost reverently, the pain and exhaustion melting away for this one moment. Etheirys' future was safe, and he would make sure to kep it that way. So he could always return to Artoirel in his quiet moments.

#ffxiv #final fantasy xiv #gpose #artoirel de fortemps #azra skagem #woltoirel #fluffvember #elezen #viera #male viera #endwalker spoilers #fluffvember Azra

[poorlytunedukulele]

Prompt 16 - Missing Moment

The Battle of Twilight Gap, April 21, 2871; The Last City, Earth

Well, this was going to end badly.

Andal eyed the artillery emplacement with concern.  It had fallen silent, a plume of smoke slowly engulfing its location.  It wasn’t an immediate danger to his fireteam (they were nearly two hundred meters away) but it didn’t spell good news for defenders on this section of the Wall.  If the defenses were crippled any further, they may as well paint a giant target on their location.

The Fallen through this battle so far had been scary organized, coordinating attacks in tandem between multiple Houses.  The Guardians and City Militia had been doing their best to spread out the damage, redirecting and repelling offensives as they were launched, but the Fallen were getting desperate.  The City could hold as long as they had ammunition and food reserves, while the Fallen only had so much time before they wore themselves out or were flanked by outside Guardian forces.  Today it had seemed they were gearing up towards another push- and now here was an opportunity, if their leaders were smart enough to see it.

They were.  Only moments after the anti-air gun was hit, Skiffs and Walkers began pounding the Wall with artillery.  The shockwaves sent people sprawling or scrambling for things to hold on to.  The barrage was vicious.  The fire only dwindled once nearby cannons were redirected, the Guardians in the field desperately distracting or forcing back the Walkers where they could. 

As the dust began to settle, Andal was relieved to see the Wall still stood- though showing significant structural damage.  But below, the Fallen were rallying.  The Guardians broke and scattered under the pressure.

The Fallen would be focusing all of their attention on his part of the Wall tonight.  If they breached, the Guardians would have to fall back, fighting house-to-house in the City itself.  Casualties would be high.

Andal hadn’t been planning on staying before this.  Two hours ago, they’d finally caught the trail of the Kell of Kings.  The Vanguard had been after her for decades- she was normally so elusive.  The battle had brought her from her usual hidey-holes out into the open.  They’d just come back to restock on ammunition before heading out to hunt her-

But now the Wall had been hit.  Would they do more good here?  Would six hands be worth a Kell’s head in the long run?  Could they honestly look at the state of things now and feel okay about leaving?  If they killed the Kell, House Kings would be thrown into disarray.  It might end this battle early.  If the Wall fell, people would be dying while they were out tracking in the mountains.

Andal looked at each person in his fireteam in turn, asking a silent question.  Do we stay or do we go?

He saw no hesitation in any of them- come Hell or high water, if the Wall fell or not, they’d be hunting a Kell tonight.  They couldn’t let themselves be distracted now.

He nodded assent and the others began putting on helmets and reloading weapons.  Andal finally turned his eyes to the young Hunter standing at the edge of their group.  Azra looked a bit shell-shocked.  Well, she had just watched someone sacrifice their life for her team, and now she was watching the Wall crumble before her eyes.  It must have seemed like the end of the world to her.

For a moment, he had the urge to bring her along.  He knew it was his heart talking.  He didn’t want to leave her alone, not when she looked so lost. 

His logical head prevailed.  She was battered and clearly exhausted- her armor torn, her cloak charred and streaked with dirt.  “Fall back, Azra,” he commanded.  “Get yourself to the rally point.”

She immediately balked at that idea.  “But-“

“You’re too new,” Andal said.  Not even three, she was.  She couldn’t go Kell-hunting.  “Your battles will come,” he assured her, “but you’ll die out there if you go.”

Her face was sill pale in shock, her eyes wild-wide.  “But-“

“Go,” he ordered her.  He left no more room for argument, sliding on his helmet and swinging a leg over his Sparrow.  The others were already waiting- he gave the signal to start off.

Later, he would remember that last glance he cast over his shoulder.  He would remember the young Hunter standing there, scorched and unsteady and now being left alone.  He would remember that she didn’t look scared- she looked worried.

He didn’t see the Ketch, or the explosion- they were far enough away at that point that the sound took several seconds to reach them.  When it did, it had everyone stopping and looking back.  Where the weak spot had been- where Azra had just been, there was now a huge cloud of dust.  It was like part of the Wall had just evaporated.

Someone was holding Andal back.  “Brask,” Tevis snapped in his ear.

“We left Azra there!”  Andal yelled.  Gods, he’d only wanted to keep her safe.  Now wasn’t the time for someone as young as her to be running around outside of the Wall-

There was no outside or inside of the Wall now.  The Fallen were in.  And that blossoming cloud of smoke was right where he’d left her behind.

“Get a hold of yourself,” Tevis growled.  He shoved Andal backwards, south, away from the catastrophe, and stepped between him and it.

“We need to-” Andal started.

“We can’t help her,” Tevis said bluntly.  “If she’s dead, she’s dead, and you throwing yourself at the Fallen ain’t gonna do nothing.  If she’s still living…” Tevis took a second to peer over his own shoulder, at the swarming Fallen, the flashes of gunfire becoming visible in the gathering dark.  “She’s a tough cookie,” he said.  “She’ll make it through.”

“We shouldn’t have left her behind,” Andal lamented.

“Well, we did,” Tevis said.  “Can’t go back.”

They could- they could abandon this whole hunt, fight off the Fallen, and… what?  Run and hide?  Bring her along to get stomped on by a Kell?  What if her Ghost had been damaged and all they could do was recover her body?

“Andal,” Shiro said hesitantly.  “I know…” I know you feel bad, he implied.  I know you care about her and you’re shocked about that.  “You can’t throw away the Kell of Kings for her.”

“You know, I don’t think she’d want you to,” Cayde said.

They were right.  Of course they were right.  And they’d all just agreed to focus on their Kell hunt, Wall be damned.  One more life logically shouldn’t change that decision.

That didn’t make turning back south any less painful. 

“Afterwards,” his Ghost whispered to him.  “After the Kell is dead, we can think about what this means.  When we know how this turned out.”

Andal re-mounted his Sparrow reluctantly, wondering how heavy a burden of regret he’d be carrying tomorrow.

AO3 Linky!

#destcember #destcember2022 #destiny #destiny 2 #destiny the game #destiny fanfiction #andal brask #I can have a little angst #as a treat #god I love Twilight Gap