#I love az down

[feyrescourt]

Oh, they’re calling US boy moms now? for Az? lmfao they’re crashing hard.

[prythianpages]

thinking about the New Year’s Eve trend where you go under the table (also I always grew up hearing that going under the table will bring you a luck in finding a partner but now I see the trend is to go under the table and eat 12 grapes so now idk what the actual tradition is lol, anyways back to my little thought):

You made sure to have the grapes ready at this year’s NYE, talking excitedly about the man you want to manifest with Nesta…who knows what she’s doing and suggesting traits that tease at Azriel. Cassian thinks it’s hilarious and he is also excited to see if you’ll actually be able to devour all 12 grapes so fast, already placing bets with Feyre.

Meanwhile, Azriel, who is madly crushing on you, watches from his corner of the room. He thinks it’s just all fun and games…this can’t really work, right? I mean, why would it work? There’s no real magic behind this…

But then Mor casually brings up that she had done this one NYE and it brought her, her most memorable fling and she sighs wistfully…panic begins to stir in Azriel.

The clock is ticking…

Azriel’s shadows begin to dance frantically around him, mirroring his inner turmoil as the inner circle prepares to cheer you on.

His eyes widen when you scoop a couple of grapes into your hand because Mother above, you’re actually going to do this and what if it actually works and he never gets a chance to confess…

10…9…8…

Azriel suddenly appears at your side, wings knocking awkwardly against the table, his shoulder bumping yours as he makes himself fit in that small space.

“Az, what are you—“

“I have to tell you something.”

“Right now??”

7…6…

Azriel reaches for your hand, the one that is holding onto a handful of grapes, and lowers it. A confused frown settles on your features and he coaxes your gaze to his with his other hand, eyes searching yours.

“Az—“

5…4…

The hand clutching the handful of grapes twitches in his grip, still determined to complete the tradition.

3…2…

But Azriel tightens his hold and wastes no more time. He leans in, crashing his lips against yours and pulling you into a frantic but sweet kiss.

“Happy new year!”

When he pulls away, your cheeks are flushed and eyes are wide but there’s a smile on your face. “What else do you have to tell me?”

Azriel only grins and says “so much more,” before kissing you again.

[spookythesillyfella]

ominous and threatening sketchy ... sniffle ...

★ some extra stuff under cut :

some concept drawingz i made for the little guyz of an unfinished fic of mine

and headshotz that i redrew digitally

[agentc0rn]

Pokemon XY Parade Scene Analysis - Desire to learn, Request for Guidance and Acts of Penance

ok havent done a scene or character analysis in a while but here's one for the XY ending and the king himself-- 11 years late but hey, time shouldn't really prevent you from re-evaluating media, right?

**long thread ahead

Ok so. When you/protagonist become champion at the end of the game, which professor sycamore coordinates a parade for you, in a simple way it's both a celebration as well as a coronation. In a technical meta narrative sense, being champion means you’ve finished the game, having defeated the big bad evil and pokemon league and all that. But from the narrative point of view, you've become more than just a champion by title. You've become a hero by saving the world, and the champion elevates your status further. You represent the epitome of a trainer by the virtue of your skills and friendship with your team.

And that's why in that specific scene, AZ comes to the protagonist to request for a battle. I mean technically you could just ask anyone else regardless of status what battling and trainer means. But since in the game we're the only one who he interacted much with, we're also the closest and viable option as not just a source of knowledge and experience, but also a trustworthy acquaintance for him to learn more of the world. Given the context that pokemon were used as tools and weapons back then, AZ wants to know how things have changed and how Pokémon is viewed differently through the concept of a trainer from someone who has great experience and strength of overcoming challenges.

He also probably knows that monarchy is not present in modern society anymore, but may see us, a trainer, who ascended to the status of a champion, as a close equivalent of a monarch. In general, we can kinda see how champions are leading figures of the league but also representatives of the region (more emphasized in the anime and manga). Plus, the way he just casually walks through the red carpet, which is kinda funny and makes you think where is security (it's like you walking through the red carpet to talk to a celebrity lol)? that particular moment, it suggests that part of him still bears the mantle of a king in this display of behavior and attitude. In that regard, it is a metaphorical presentation of passing the crown - the state of Kalos and present is entrusted to you for paving the way to a better future. And what I like about this scene is that you have a former king asking you to teach him and do a demonstration through a battle. It is in a many ways beyond a simple request - it is an indirect way of reliving his long-standing struggle with grief, apathy, hatred and obliviousness to it the world, a desire for much-needed guidance, advice and help to better understand and integrate with the current way of life.

What is also unique is that it’s a reverse of this dynamic of the elderly teaching or exerting authority onto the younger generation. This symbolic battling, served as ritual-test for both AZ and you - the former to challenge his view on the world and the latter to be that example, showing what it means to express your understanding and relationship with your pokemon using the techniques and physical exertion of battling. You show how battling evolved past the violent acts of killing and now as an alternate mode of communication, recreational outlet and development of mutual understanding. Now that is not to ignore that battling still has its part in creating conflicts and interference either of course.

Moreover, once you beat him, his growth is shown - he openly acknowledges his deed and comes to terms with the past by confessing directly to you that he was the one who built the ultimate weapon rather than the third-person narrative he used in his previous encounters. Adding further, it demonstrates shows how this battle meant a lot for him because now everything is clarified and he is at last relieved of his long-carried burden of self-loathing. The battling provided an answer and emotional relief, as well as an expression of penance.

And i guess you could also insinuate that being defeated in a battle was a way of humbling him, and that engaging in a battle makes him feel like a normal human again, rather than the god that he was identified as for the longest time.

And because of that change, it made him return to his former self, which as a result Floette comes back. Although we don't get to really see how she was there in the sky in the first place, it is explained by Sycamore that she was watching him and waiting for him to be the man he was this whole time.

So the parade becomes a site of miracle, happy ending and hope for the future. You helped grandpa return to his self and in turn Floette comes back :)

[steve-brules-rules]

I saw @khrysalisposting do a tier list based on music, so I had to do one too lolol ❤️

[spotaus]

Woah!!! Ec-4o.Verse reference?? Bringing you Geno! (With a bunch of notes that are intelligible off to the sides-)

Cropped versions for easier reading/zooming! But to be more fun about it, here's a Lore Recap for each design! (I'd say these designs are from... hmm, a hundred years or so? He's a Boss Monster so he lives a lot longer.)

(Tw: Mentions of Death, Self-Loathing, Mental Illness, and I feel a few other things)

Pre-War:

Geno was a normal guy, had a dayjob, but was beloved by his friends for being a Programmer. He was lazy, had awful work ethic, but would pump out amazing quality work for cheap as long as he was given the time to do things at his own pace. He has a passion for Psychology, but was awful socially, so he designed programs that mimicked mental illnesses in Test Ectos (ectos not embedded with personalities or magic) so people could research mental health without risking patient wellness. He made A.Z. too, the first real mimicry of mental illnesses in children. Geno got attached and kept A.Z. himself, the last prototype of the code. The finalized ones can be found anywhere, but he kept A.Z. around, and even though A.Z. wasn't sentient it was such a good mimicry, Geno practically treated him like a son.

Geno was known for his work, and was contacted by the government of his country to come and work on a big nation-wide upgrade they were planning to improve ecto functionality. Again and again Geno simply ignored their letters, emails, chats, and attempts to call. It wasn't his field of study, so he could care less. So, all that led to the government sending people to confiscate A.Z. from Geno and shut down his workshop under the pretenses of 'unethical programming methods'. He was forced to relocate, and A.Z. was basically held as blackmail to force Geno into working. (Since A.Z. wasn't sentient, he was simply property, and therefore there was no legal issues with the government taking him.)

Before/During the War:

In this time, Geno was among hundreds of other talented people from all across the country who were 'recruited' to work on this project. People who didn't comply with orders went missing, loved ones were "lost" and life projects destroyed. Geno was part of the Programming team (there were also Medical, Bio-Enhineering, and Engineering teams) and he was initially supposed to just shut off the programs within an Ecto that gave them emotion protocols, even the ones infused with magic.

But, as things went on, he was told to do more and more. He was involved in more marketing and branding and announcements. He was made to be on screen, be the face of the change. His background was good for publicity (man who studied ways to harmlessly study mental health) and he was supposedly trustworthy. By day he'd stand up beside someone and listen to them implore people to bring their ectos in for this quality of life upgrade to their nearest government office. By night he'd be slaving away infront of code, being forced to find a way to make these robots kill people. Just enough people. To nullify themselves when it was all over. I'm his despair he tried to make it so that their emotion drives would at least register these events as something positive, so they felt no distress if they were sentient. He tried so hard to stop but any backlash did nothing. So he kept his head down and worked quietly.

And then he was transferred locations. Somewhere closer to the heart of the operation. He met Sci, a man unaware of the Culling Orders or the heartache, because they government had been treating him well. He was a bio-engineer, and his project (nicknamed Fresh) was like if a self-healing code was a living thing and could slow, or even heal, wounds. The government wanted it, in the case that it could unlock immortality. Sci was getting funding and a cushy life. Geno realized Fresh was the best way he coukd possibly end all of this war that was in the works. For good.

So he poured hid heart and soul into finishing that code. "A change of heart prompted by wanting so desperately for his prized project, AZ, to be saved" He claimed. There were a few useful bots that filled through the office. He offered to install code that would prevent the Culling Order from activating inside them since they were going to be preserved. While adding code he added failsafes and kill codes and important information from his and others work he wanted saved. He added the names of every researcher he knew had been drafted into this unwillingly. He did it in secret, so entrenched in code only another programmer would notice.

And then the war started, and Sci learned the truth, and people started dying. Geno had to convince Sci to help him after that. Sci feared being killed. He feared not being able to finish his work. He feared not being protected from the pain and destruction outside. It was a long plenty of *years* that Geno had to configure just the right plan, just the right way to ensure that Sci abd Fresh would survive it. That the rest of the base would be no threat and that it'd stop the Ectos and the Culling Code.

And then he did it. He put an end to the war, at the price of all the power on the continent running to every piece of tech, and at the price of his own arm and eye.

Post-War:

Geno was disfigured. He knew that to make an EMP large enough to cut off all electricity, he would need to overload his own master consol to the point of battery meltdown. An explosion. He didn't tell Sci. Only mentioned he'd need Fresh on-hand. So when it exploded, his left arm (non-dominent just like he planned), his chest, and the right side of his skull (his left eye was better) were demolished in the blast and dusted near instantly. Sci and Fresh managed to save his life, and Sci, resident Bio-Engineer, was able to replace his missing limbs and his wounds with spare ecto parts over the course of a few weeks.

Geno was slow to recover, nearly on the verge of falling down during recovery (He didn't know where they'd stored A.Z. if he was even still in-tact, he had been the reason so many humans and monsters had died, and now to reverse his mistake he'd taken out the electricity the country had been relying on for the past thousands of years.) But he pushed through. He was Determined. He needed to get to the four robots he embedded information and failsafes into. But they were scattered across the country for aafe-keeping. Incase he'd failed. So he has to hunt them down.

As soon as he can he leaves. Sci stays. Geno promises he'll come back (he doesn't). Geno takes a medical uniform, packs the supply belt with programming tools, and moves out. He enters the main story while on this trek to hunt down his Ectos. Not a single one is where they should've been, and he can't help but be furious, praying to a non-existant God that they weren't scrapped by heathens out for parts or destroyed in a rage by scared survivors.

Looking for the four? One day their trackers finally Light up again. One by one. All in the same location. And Geno follows it like a moth to the flame.

[alizaphale]

I have this head canon where Aziraphale joins an amateur theatre group once they've moved to the South Downs. He only goes for a small acting role though, but really gets into costumes and getting them historically accurate. And Crowley loves to mess around with them every now and then and adds weird colours or frill in all the wrong places to wind him up, and Aziraphale can't decide if he's annoyed or bemused. Then one of the actors breaks a leg or something and they desperately need someone who can fill in for her, so Crowley ends up on stage, acting a woman's part and loving it. Also, he's making sure that his own costume is perfect and just on this side of revealing.

What do you think? :-D

[grandwretch]

why does every bdsm nrrative have to be about rich people and cheating and everyone involved acts like its the business equivalent of doing LSD in the desert like it's just fucking sex. normal people do it all the time.

also the doms are literally always trash. they talk about rules and then the rule is "i'm going to ruin your fucking life". i'm taking every single fictional sub by the shoulders and shaking them. get a fetlife account. meet other subs in your local scene. literally anything but selling your soul to the first trash dom in an ill-fitting suit who puts you on your knees my GOD.

[beastsovrevelation]

Why didn't these clowns have Shax simply call Aziraphale fat. -_-

[girlbloggercrowley]

i'm watching old s1 promo clips/interviews and i feel balls to the wall insane like can you guys shutup abpout how its a romcom for two seconds. about how you're "having to pretend i'm not in love with him" in all scenes like PLEASE. PLEASE

[kazamajun]

still obsessed with the fact that jun's character episode has her beating up her son, then her son's devil, then her husband, then his devil form, and then finally the progenitor of it all.

[ronithesnail]

Girl help why is top/bottom discourse so big on twitter rn holy shit

[spookythesillyfella]

hv lore accurate tracey n brendon

★ original image under the cut :

[solcarow]

.

[acoazlove]

WING FIC WING FIC!!! AHHHHH!!! I LOVE when people write wing play!!! needy az will always be one of my fav versions of him. i NEED him!!! THIS IS SOOOO GOOD!!!

featherlight touch

a/n: and what if i said surprise smut. what then :) my soft launch of the fact i can and do write smut... <3 word count: easy peasy barely over 1k-squeezy synopsis: Given particular knowledge, you try something new. wing!fic

Your knees sink into the black satin sheets of Azriel’s bed and you sigh contently.

Across the room at the window, the curtain is haphazardly drawn, letting in a curious ray of moonlight. A dim glow lights the room.

You’re thankful for it now—the moonlight allowing you to drink in the sight beneath you with a ravenous gaze. Thighs straddling across his hips, you take in Azriel under you with, what can only be described as, ardent hunger.

But, well, it’s not often enough you get to be on top, after all.

Azriel’s wings splay out on the bed, gloriously on display. His scarred hands rest easily on your waist. His hazel eyes, narrowed in a suspicious way, are focused entirely on you. He, as always, looks devastatingly handsome.

“I’m not sure if I like the look of that look.” He comments slyly, shifting his head to flick a stray curl back from his eyes.

His hands on your waist give a gentle squeeze, as if to reassure you that he’s only teasing. His shadows lurk, traversing the rumpled bedsheets with a lazy designation, unbothered.

“Oh, hush,” you respond. “As if I haven’t been on the receiving end of this before.”

At the mere mention of your reversed positions, Azriel grins, even as a hot glow takes to his cheeks. The dusty rose colour sets a warm spark off in your chest and the heat wastes no time heading south, between your thighs.

Your relationship with Azriel is of the newer side, despite how long you've actually known each other. Long time friends, eventually, finally turned lovers.

But these new steps forward together, getting to know each other in an entirely new way—it's still enough to make Azriel fluster. Centuries old he is but a bashful shyness still remains, if only you can coax it out.

Bringing you back to the moment, Azriel squeezes your waist again, one hand shifting across your skin, his thumb dipping closer to your waistband.

“I don’t know what you mean,” He says, even as his satisfied smile gives him away. He watches closely as you pluck up his large hand and move it back to your waist, the message clear. He's not in charge tonight.

“Y’know,” you say, voice softer suddenly.

You haven’t let go on his hand. As you speak, you let your fingers travel down his veined and chiseled forearm slowly. “I learnt something today. From Feyre.”

Azriel watches you intently, the very feel of your skin across his enough to make him shudder in muted pleasure. No one touches him like you do.

Goosebumps break out along his arm as your hand reaches his bulging bicep and you drag your nails across it lightly.

“Is that so?”

Despite all his body betrays him, Azriel is a master at keeping his face and voice cool and calm. You smile at the sight of it, goaded on by his unwavering voice, and let your hand linger, resting on his collarbone.

“What did she tell you?” Azriel asks, his dark brows raising.

Purposefully, you shift your hips an inch, grinding against his own. Azriel barely manages to hide the grunt it pulls from him, his fingers flexing against your waist as if he’s resisting something more.

“She told me,” You say, dragging out the words, sultry and low.

Your hand begins to move, tracing the line of his defined chest and feeling it heave slightly beneath your touch. Tantalisingly slow, you let it trail down, skimming across his toned stomach where you pause.

“That if I ask you nicely, there’s a certain spot—”

Your teasing, trailing touch moves sideways, dipping down his ribcage and nearing his wings. They rustle against the sheets, a minuscule motion, that you hope is in what’s anticipation.

If what Feyre said is true...

Moving slow, so there’s time for him to interrupt you, you reach down and hover your hand over the delicate membrane of his wings.

Intentions clear, your eyes dart to Azriel’s to check.

Pupils blow wide, the ring of hazel you love so much barely visible, Azriel looks debauched before you've even begun. His hands are stilled on your waist and his cheeks are that same glowing scarlet. After a beat it becomes clear he’s waiting, not stopping you.

Grinning, you take your cue.

Brushing your fingers gently across a section of his wings, the reaction is instantaneous.

Azriel shudders, his whole body shivering as a strangled breath passes through his clenched jaw, his eyes fluttering closed. The hands on your waist constrict, tightening his grip, and beneath you his hips shift up, into you.

The shape of him, pulsating and hot, suddenly feels much firmer than before.

“She’s—right.” The words come out in two stilted breaths, Azriel’s chest rising and falling a little faster now as he fights to compose himself. His eyes open, heavier lidded than they were a moment ago. His tongue darts out to wet his lips.

"Is she?" Your voice is lilted in mock uncertainty, given away by your mischievous grin. "I think I better check again."

This time, instead of a small brush, you try something bolder. Two fingers on either side of a prominent vein, you draw a delicate stripe up his wing.

Azriel whines— a soft, pitiful noise that leaks out through his clenched teeth. It melts into a soft groan as his whole body shifts, his hips shoving up, seemingly out of his control. His hands pull you down at the time, dragging you forward against his hardness.

Something fiercely hot simmers in your gut, both at the friction and his glorious reaction. He's been fucking holding out on you.

"I don't know, I'm still not sure..." You continue, far too delighted to abuse your newfound knowledge.

Stroking another soft line up his wing, this time you're rewarded with a whimper.

"Oh, Az," You murmur, half consoling and half wicked. His screwed up eyes take a moment to find yours and you relish the panting of his chest. The rosiness of his cheeks has spread, crawling down his neck and beginning along his toned chest.

"This your plan?" He says, but it's nowhere near that unwavering voice from earlier, raspy and on the way to ruined. "To—" He takes a sharp inhale as your nail scrapes the membrane again. "—to tease me all night?"

You're impressed he's got the words out, given the sight of him. His hair looks messier now. Paired with his heaving chest and eyes bright with lust, he looks downright sinful.

"Doesn't sound too bad a plan to me." You say, letting your hips draw forward, then back, the smallest rocking motion against him.

Azriel hisses, his large, scarred hands threatening to bruise your hips with how tight they grip them. He makes no attempt to stop you though.

"What do you think?"

You purposefully retract your hand, hovering it over his wing, and watch his face. Wings are very personal to Fae and Azriel letting you touch his own, in such an intimate way, was not lost on you.

You don't want to overstep, even if you do desperately want to see what happens if you stroke once, twice, three times in a row. Gods do you want to watch him fall apart beneath you, whimpering and whining through it all.

"I think you're a temptress," Azriel says, breathless. His eyes, heavy with desire, give away his answer. A grin spreads across your face, devious and enamoured all at once.

"A temptress you'll let have her way with you?"

"Depen—ah," His voice shudders into another whimper as you touch your fingertip back to his velvety wing, drawing a small circle.

Eyes crushing closed, it takes another moment for him to catch his breath before he speaks again, breath ragged. "Mother above..."

His wing, the one you've been taunting, rustles against the bed. It lifts up an inch before flapping down in an almost impatient motion. Like a cat, wagging its tail. Azriel wets his lips again, their skin cherried and plush.

"Alright," He says, faux begrudgingly. His eagerness is given away by another impatient rustle of his wing and the throbbing length of him, pressing firmly up against you.

His gives your waist another squeeze and then lets go, letting his arms fall lax to his side. Trusting you completely.

"Have your way with me."

[haruchiyos]

Story in the tags