#Az thoughts

[astrum99]

I tried something new! (yippee) The Poem format is from @two-bees-poetry!

[azrielgreen]

Hi everyone, firstly let me apologise for not posting on here pretty much at all the past few months. I'm absolutely gonna talk more about this, but for now suffice to say I've been going through a lot of transformations and I always think you need to slow before you turn a corner.

One thing I wanted to say first is about Scorpio Skies. I've had the most enormous influx of amazing questions and happy excitement for this story and I am so thrilled to say that this Saturday's post will accompany a big turning point for me which I'll be announcing on Patreon, but to clarify I'd never want anyone to feel remotely obligated to sign up to read. Anyone who wants to read scorsky can DM me and ask for the PDF and I will always send it right over. It's been this way from the start. I do this for about thirty people every month. There's a big exciting change coming up and while I can't say what it is yet, I can say that anyone who wants to read it absolutely can and has always been able to. Scorsky is deeply personal and I only felt comfortable sharing it with my Patreon family (especially at first) but I have always shared it with whoever asked and I always will.

Secondly, and this will be of no surprise to anyone who knows me, but 2025 is the year of me starting to release my own creative works and I can't even begin to explain how much it excites me to share with you all the books I'm writing and the stories I'm crafting! So while I will still regularly be posting fic for the next year, and to be fair, I will always write fic, it's not going to be my destination horizon anymore. I will slowly be orphaning (not deleting) all my old completed fic as I always have done, including YD etc... and they'll always be on AO3 to read for everyone, but I will be cutting the kite strings and letting them live forever in the world's best archive.

I have so much to share with the world and I'm genuinely so happy and grateful for all the amazing support and kindness. I always feel distinctly lucky to have the most incredible readership and while it would feel comfortable to stay where it's easy and safe, I want to do more than that and I've been ready for a while now.

Thanks so much. All my love,

[azion-uchiha11]

Intro

(TW: Mentions of gr**ming)

Hello there... I am Az, Azion or Azzy. Honestly call me whichever you would like. I go by She/Her + They/Them pronouns! I don't really like labeling myself if I am honest so please respect that! I am Pansexual! (Que the pan jokes.) I don't mind which you use just be respectful! I am just somone who likes anime + manga video games and literate roleplaying. I am also tired like 24/7 and am dealing with health issues so I am unsure if this will be a regular thing or not.

As for what I will be posting here. I am not sure really probably just whatever comes to mind or whatever I feel like. Maybe related to fandoms maybe related to roleplays I am doing or maybe related to my health. I am not really sure... lol. Sorry if it's not as organized as other people. This is my first time using tumblr lol so if I am doing something wrong somone let me know...

Physical Health.

As for my conditions I have chronic vertigo/dizziness, chronic migraines, I am severely lactose intolerant and suffer from Amplified Pain Syndrome in my hands and feet (So it hurts to walk, type, write or hold things even though there is nothing physically wrong with them!) I also am chronically tired/fatigued but the doctors don't have answer for that. Yay!

Intrest

Anime + Manga

Naruto/Naruto Shippuden, BSD, Hunter x Hunter, Tokyo Ghoul, My Hero Academia, Demon Slayer, The Promised Neverland, Death Note, Jujitsu Kaisen, Assasination Classroom and Digimon.

Semi-Literate/Literate/Roleplaying

I have always enjoyed doing this kind of thing and I have many OC's in Google docs and even across various fandoms. I also usually enjoy dark plots anyway.

If you wanna rp with me message me and I will give you my discord where we can has out details and i do use anime faceclaims.

Video Games.

I play Neo: The World Ends With You, Super Smash Bros. Ultimate, Naruto Ultimite Ninja Storm 1 & 4, Rocket League, Minecraft, Ninjala, My Hero Academia Ones Justice 2, Catttails, Sonic Forces and Digimon Cybersluth and probably more that I am forgetting.

Books

Maximum Ride, Wings of Fire, Warriors, and The Witcher! (OMG HENRY CAVILL ON THE NETFLIX ADAPTATION TAKE ME!!!!!)

DNI

Please Do Not Interact if your homophobic, TERF, ableist, racist (I am bi-racial), pro-contact/anti-contact MAP, or are a NSFW blog. (I have been gr**med in the past and have trauma from that.)

Tags

I will be tagging my personal/vent thoughts appropriately and with the tag #az thoughts

[grovylelover]

Walked into the local marriott and guess who was behind the front desk. yuuuuuuup. the immortal king of legend who vaporized so many people it permanently fucked up the timeline.

[astrum99]

The water turned slowly, black and heavy - suffocating. No one is sure what the rain is made of now: this stickiness of deep rumbling dark, almost, ironically, dry to the touch, and awfully, disgustingly, alien. Yet no one is talking about the water; it’s all soft chit chat and crinkled eyes at the dinner table, the TV dulls on like another Tuesday, masks and masks making lighthearted arguments about new wine, as if the downpour outside isn’t drowning out the meaningless droning anyways. It’s so loud.

There is something deeply, deeply wrong.

Deep Water Challenge

Hello all weird and wonderful writers! This week, I thought it might be fun to host a mini-challenge where we turn the tables, and I give YOU a request.

Time to try your hand at micro-micro fiction. Write a 1-3 sentence prompt/'story', that has something to do with RAIN.

If participating, please add your submission either as a reblog or a comment on THIS POST, so we can keep all of them in one place and allow everyone else to look through them. On Friday May 17, I'll share my favorites in a separate post, tagging the authors.

As always, keep writing, and stay weird.

- L

[purupurple]

i had a brain blast

[xxangel-cakesxx]

Dead girls are skinnier

[dotted-clouds]

"Get back to work.."

[astrum99]

I… might be able to do some wonky doodles… my god there’re so many characters and my schedule is looking terrible for the next two months but, hmm. Maybe 👁👁 the real question is Are My Doodles Any Good and Will I Persevere o7

imagine all ultrakill in skirt and transfem. ideal world

LIFE COULD BE A DREAM

[astrum99]

V2’s code is… strange in a way. Not foreign, but not the same. It feels like the makers tweaked just enough lines to make it feel like another, occupying the same body, same space.

Intimate. Like breathing through another’s lungs, or cradling a different kidney just under your ribs. Like watching the crimson flow steadily into your veins from a blood bag, with the full understanding that another human being breathed life into you, sustained you, saved you. And your body opens up to it, welcoming the foreign body into you.

V1 is left-heavy. The weight of the knuckle-blaster sways him off balance before it makes haste corrections. Running through diagnostics, it realizes the left-over pieces of code embedded in the arm fit perfectly into itself. The differences negligible. Its body welcomes her.

Probably because they are twins, in a way. Born from the same makers, runs on the same core codes, operates the same frame. It feels natural to wield the limb. Its body can’t tell where one begins and the other ends.

It can’t even tell where the boundary of itself lies even if it tries.

It may be her code seeping through its mainframe, but V1 swears that it sees V2 in the liminal space between one moment and the next. A ghost-like thing – fuzzy around the edges and gaseous. Always between the light and the dark. Always just out of distance enough to dance around the edges of its vision.

The shape is blurry, but the soft piercing glow of V2’s optic can’t possibly be false. It can’t possibly be flawed.

The red haunts it now. There is something about killing a being so similar to itself.

Siblicide. Suicide.

It glances at the reflection in the water, bathed in blood, and sees no difference from the image of its counterpart.

V1/V2 thinks in their minds. We will never be gone.

V2 infects it like a virus, embeds herself into it. And it welcomes her.

[azrielgreen]

"They had no chemistry!", "they had nothing in common!", "that ship is immoral!", "that ship will never be canon!"

FOOLS, i will ship characters whose gazes never MET, whose timelines forbad them even KNOWING one another, i will ship a literal serial killer with floppy haired empathic bunny rabbit of a man, i will write hideous AUs that bear no resemblance to canon, i will take liberties so vast and interpret relationships with such wild delusion and i will do this because what is love if not the gut-wrenching refusal to accept canon, to leave the little possibilities unexplored, to let the Hot Men go?

[gotta-spew-words-somewhere]

Countdown: 9

Series Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Summary: Azriel is a simp in denial

TW’s: None, minor suggestiveness, I guess not really having any plot yet could count??

A/N: omg I really didn’t expect this silly story to get nearly as many notes you’re all angels and I’d kill and die for you all!!!!

Also- I promise plot is coming (and the end of this is weird but I didn’t wanna write out like 4 hours of back and forth lol)

~~~

Reader POV

The little friend you’ve made dances between your fingers, tickling the skin with not-quite kisses that make you snort as you stir a spoonful of cumin into your tea.

Heartburn has bothered you from bed, but not from sleep- it doesn’t come as easy as it once did, not since the rumblings of war on the horizon have reached you.

But the little shadow now twisting through your hair helps you focus, helps you forget. At this point, you’re almost sure it knows what a simple relief the company can be in the small hours, the way it dances and plays when your heart feels most heavy.

And, for the second time in as many weeks, burning. Very odd.

You take a deep drink from your cup, savouring the earthy flavour and willing away the discomfort that pulls at your ribs.

The gift from the Illyrian, however, seems far less interested in quiet contemplation than you, changing course and whipping across your counters and walls in a frenzy. The fine hairs at the back of your neck rise to attention, and without thought, you follow the flittering wisp into your shop front, and then to the door.

“What is it? What are you trying to show me?” You’re probably crazy, talking to a shadow, and yet its movements grow more urgent— circling your ankles and then back to the door. It could seep through the cracks— you know this, you’ve seen it in action— but doesn’t. It wants you to open it.

But, you don’t get chance. It swings open itself despite definitely being locked, the little bell eery in the dark. Blinking at the man once again stood uncertainly in your home after hours, you offer a raised eyebrow and a nerve-settling sigh.

“Have you come to pick up your friend?”

——————————

Azriel POV

In the two weeks since he last saw you, Azriel has had little peace. By their own accord (and eventually against explicit instruction), the shadows he usually relies on for state secrets and cautious murmurs have become quite the problem.

Little gossips, he’d called them— rushing to his ear with updates of where you’ve been and how you are. Whether you’ve slept or whether you’ve padded downstairs to drink tea amongst the rubies and diamonds.

It’s odd, but not unheard of. Azriel’s companions had developed this habit before; sneaking away in the dead of night to trail in Mor’s footsteps like lovesick little puppies, updating him of her every move. What makes this so different, so unnerving is the speed in which they chose you— he’s been in your presence for what, 15 minutes total? And yet they’ve abandoned centuries of unrequited affection in favour of your tea and snark in a heartbeat.

Tonight had been more of the same— awake, awake. Sad. Awake. And it was absolutely none of his business, as he’d told them, but the whispers had grown urgent, and he could no longer tell if they were speaking of you or himself.

And so, with no small amount of denial, he’d decided to simply wander by. Another beautiful, sleepless night in the city he loves- why shouldn’t he pass through the cobbled street where your shop windows glimmer in the starlight? What harm could it do?

Then he’d heard your voice- quiet and concerned and muffled by stone and glass, and he hadn’t fought the urging of his shadows to just. Pop in. Check that everything is okay.

But just like the first night, it seems like you’re expecting him.

“Have you come to pick up your friend?”

Azriel’s own hands wave to awaken the fae-lights, and his eyes settle on you with light confusion. You’re in your sleep clothes- a large shirt this time, although your hair seems tamed and your stance a little less steady.

No sleep at all, tonight then.

“My friend?” His voice comes out rough from lack of use, a line forming on his brow. His only friends are asleep in the house of wind, as far as he knows, but he’s discovered Cassian snoring I n enough unlikely places to not completely write it off.

Instead of answering, you raise your hand, and he catches the tail of a flicker of dusk racing to hide from his sight on your palm.

“Go on— go to your, uh, Dad?” Your voice takes the tone of a mother soothing a small child, and he realises with a jolt that you’re speaking to one of his shadows like that, smiling softly at the darkness that sends most running.

He hopes you can’t hear how fast his heart beats.

“Are you their Dad? Or is it more of a pet-owner type of situation?” You turn your wrist, trying and failing to encourage the little traitor that still hides from its masters sight, before offering him a crooked smile. “I think this one likes me.”

“You’d be correct. I’ve never seen one do that before.” He side-steps the question- more because he’s not too sure himself, before outstretching his own palm and silently willing the little shadow to return home. It does, but your eyes follow the movement to his hand and the sort of shame he hasn’t felt in decades fucking burns through his veins.

You didn’t notice the scars before, he’s certain. There were no lingering glances or wrinkled noses, no prying questions. And he’s not sure why it matters- you’re some crazy fae who drinks too much tea and sleeps almost less than him—- but it doesn’t stop the itch under his skin as your eyes linger for half a beat.

But then they move up, trailing his wrist in a slow drag, finally settling on his shoulder, and just for a brief second, he swears your eyes turn sad.

You’ve been following the shadow. Watching it crawl back to him with the sluggish pace of a scolded child, and you’d looked sad as it left.

Stay. Want to stay with her. Sad. Alone. Stay Stay Stay.

He barely has a moment to process this— his shadow outright choosing another?— before you’re once again smiling and trying to usher him further inside.

“So the little thing decided to stick around all by himself?” The warmth in your voice is nearly enough to distract him from the way you’ve walked around— a careful distance from his wings— and shut the door with a gentle tinkle of a bell that wasn’t there before. “Tell him I enjoyed his stay, will you?”

And frankly, Azriel is drawing a blank between the incessant pleading at his ear and the way he has somehow, once again, ended up at the cluttered table.

“Do you want another tea? I just made a batch for heartburn but I can whip up some calming mix if you give me a few minutes?”

He ducks his head, fighting the strange and sudden urge to fuss at her—- and tell her he’s been suffering the same of late. A fresh side effect of too many thoughts and not enough rest.

“The-uh, heartburn one would be lovely, thank you.”

You offer a raised eyebrow and a nod, before again slipping out of view, night shirt swishing with the sway of your hips.

He drags his eyes away from your retreating form with purpose, swatting at the dark curl of shade by his ear that will not stop murmuring about how pretty you are.

Of course, he agrees, but the embarrassment of how something as simple as a bare shoulder effected him last time still heats his ears.

Get it together.

——————————————

Reader POV

Cauldron’s tits, he’s sexy.

You stir the steaming water into his cup slower than necessary, using this moment of separation to will your uncooperative body to relax.

Something about that unruly hair and quiet, uneven smile is enough to send you into the kind of tizzy that you’ve not experienced since adolescence. It’s bordering on pathetic, really- and yet the slight spring in your step lingers as you make your way back to him.

“There,” you mutter, pushing the cup along the well-worn wooden table surface toward him, grin splitting across your face as your little friend practically leaps from his shoulder to tangle at your fingers. “Hey, buddy.”

Azriel’s eyes are on you, you’re sure, but you focus on the shadow as you take your seat. “Am I a shadow-singer now too? Just with a really small hoard?”

The smile in his voice drags your eyes up.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Mother, he’s beautiful—- but tired again. Hazel eyes are dulled by a ring of dark, and although his expression seems content, the lingering exhaustion is so plain to see.

Your heartburn pulls, and so you take a sip of your tea.

“So it won’t whisper to me?”

He does this half-snort that you remember from last time, and you’re no longer in control of your smile. “Not unless I ask it to.”

Now, that’s intriguing. Your eyebrow raises in challenge, and you try your best to ignore the way his eyes flicker to the curve of your lips—- I must have tea leaves in my teeth— before nodding. A silent agreement, even if he offers a put-upon sigh.

A glance from the man across from you, and your little friend curls it’s way up your arm, wiggling with giddy intent. You feel it settle at your ear, the cold-kiss of its touch forcing you to fight a shiver.

Pretty.

It’s not quite a word—- not quite spoken. But somehow, you know beyond a doubt that is its tiny message, and your eyes lock with Azriel’s.

“Pretty?”

“What?” He sits straighter, brow furrowing and now glaring at the curl of dark at your shoulder.

The laugh escapes you before you have chance to reign it in— a rough bark of noise, startled by the change in his demeanour and pink tint of his ears. “Is that not what it said? I could’ve sworn—“

“It’s not what I told it to say,” and now his voice edges on a grumble, pink spreading to the apple of his cheeks, and your grin has never been wider.

“Can’t control your shadows, eh?”

“That one does seem determined to embarrass me.” He offers the offending creature— is it a creature?— a final warning look, before rolling his eyes. “It was only meant to say hello.”

“I guess my feminine wiles are enough to win over even darkness itself.” It’s meant as a joke, but the intensity in Azriel’s eyes makes your own cheeks begin to colour, and so you clear your throat and quickly switch gears. “So, why are you back again? See an emerald you couldn’t stop thinking about?”

And… he tells you. How he couldn’t sleep, and how the shadows whisper your name and now he knows why—‘little traitor’—, and you tease and try so hard to drag that little not-quite-snort out of him.

It’s good and it’s warm and it’s not quite so lonely, being awake in the dead of night when the man who controls the darkness itself can join you in the dim light of your home. Light that gets brighter and clearer long after your cups are empty and the streets start to stir; dawn is here, and you almost resent it.

“I better go.” His voice is soft with reluctance which curls warmly in your chest, and you offer him a gentle nod as he moves to the door.

“Bye, Shadowsinger.”

And your little friend pools in the dip of your collar bone, in sight but not called away, even as his master slips out into the morning rays.

[astrum99]

Yessss I love them so much but with a specific reason

It’s the fact that they are weapons - monstrous, horrifying concepts made into reality. Built in destruction and fear and desperation; forged in death. Programmed to run themselves into the ground stained with endless copper blood. They are humanity’s greed (then for survival, even if that means to kill themselves as well) and humanity’s downfall. They are The End.

To see these creatures among life is to reject the end. It is saying “this is not it, this is not over, this is not us.” It is looking at this weapon and saying but what if it (we) learn to love instead? To stay under the warm sun instead of poisoned air? To traverse among the fragile flowers instead of crimson soil? To find peace and hope despite everything that went wrong? Isn’t this enough? To live and be alive? To reject the notion of inherent brutality and seek the small beauties?

Seeing them among nature is to see us, a collective, waking up to the ugly parts of the world everyday and saying “yes, I choose love again”. No matter how hard.

My favourite genre of ULTRAKILL fan art at the moment are Earthmovers in peaceful environments like rolling plains or sunflower fields. For some reason it feels like a soft ray of sunlight warming my soul.

[agentc0rn]

oh man...2 decades on earth...wow.

[ceoofyearning]

The Fallen Angel - Azriel Sketch

I’ve always wanted to do a study of The Fallen Angel by Cabanel, and I made it Az to make it more more fun 👀 Here’s the initial sketch!! Hopefully I finish one of my wips before i make new ones one of these days

[eterycznezjebanie]

jprdl jak ja grubo wychodzę na zdjęciach