remember

𝘠𝘖𝘜 𝘋𝘖𝘕'𝘛 𝘒𝘕𝘖𝘞 𝘛𝘏𝘌 𝘋𝘐𝘍𝘍𝘌𝘙𝘌𝘕𝘊𝘌 𝘉𝘌𝘛𝘞𝘌𝘌𝘕 𝘓𝘌𝘛𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎 𝘎𝘖 & 𝘍𝘖𝘙𝘎𝘌𝘛𝘛𝘐𝘕𝘎

[4zune]

4ZUNE ( REMEMBER . . . ) a selective and low activity roleplay blog of azune nayar of critical role's campaign 4. CAUGHT UP WITH EP 23.

⁰¹ CARRD. ⁰² PROMPTS. ⁰³ INTEREST TRACKER.

cr sideblogs: @aramans, @fjorlock, @vaxi1dan

[4zune]

hi. hello, how was your day? i finished editing and posted another a.zune fic mansms

[4zune]

my essek cooking azune a delicious meal/dessert. (post campaign 2, maybe essek runs into azune when he's in dire straits?)

IT WAS THE SMELL HE FIRST NOTICED. how it filled the space with something warm that instantly made his mouth salivate. back when he had his own place, before he had a reason to run from the empire and a target to run towards, he used to eat a lot and cook whenever he could. this person who'd offered him a safe space, was now extending his hospitality this way.

azune lingered by the door, always unsure how to place himself in these kinds of situations. “ is there anything i can do to help? ” he offered, even though maybe he'd be more in the way than helpful with his still healing injuries.

[4zune]

also also going off of moss. this is absolutely personal hc, but a.zune and v.aren had a little something going on a year or two prior to canon. they're very physical with each other, a.zune trusts him almost blindly which is rare, and v.aren seems very fond of him.

a.zune absolutely wasn't at a point where he could handle any kind of actual relationship, but they did have Something. mostly physical than anything else but it was easier to maintain because a.zune didn't have to hide his rebellion past with him.

[4zune]

i also think a large part of why he warmed up to b.olaire so fast is that he saw and met the soldier a.zune is at the same level during combat at least.

[4zune]

i was going to write a meta but it got long and rambly and the gist of it is : that i don't think azune wants to be viewed as a 'kid' or is jealous of that status particularly now. there's hurt that he didn't have that growing up.

but what he wants and wishes now is to not be alone anymore. and he has been alone for a long time. he wants to know there's someone that will had his back like he's willing to do for them. (he and b.olaire during combat? is one example and why he warmed up to him so fast. so take that and extend it)

and i also think he wants to seen. flaws and all. he does shut down when murray starts going on about him being a boy scout. he knows that's not accurate to the scraping of a person that he is. he wants them to see who he's discovering himself to be. (and he can't do that if he keeps playing this role)

[papanowo]

happy pride to these FREAKS

[troublemqkers]

"hey, now." immediately, his arm presses over azune like a gentle bar, keeping him from getting up too fast. "you took some nasty hits out there. let's not do that just yet." it's also just a tad selfish: azune's weight helps ease some of the stinging in his thigh. it's not the first time he's caught a blade to the meat of his leg, and gods willing it wouldn't be the last – but this one hurt like hell in a way others hadn't. he's half-started to wonder if there isn't a poison or a barb laced somewhere in the wound. they'll find out when they get back. azune gives him a status update, and thjazi nods like a soldier – but he also takes it with a grain of salt. he can see the blood seeping through the patchwork gauze. their field medic always did a great job, but this time, it might not have been enough. "good to hear," he lies through his teeth. then the kid turns it around on him and he shakes his head. "i'm alright; bit bloodied, but nothing i haven't gotten out of before. this is more a precaution." more lies. you'd think he'd be used to it by now. his eyes drift back to kat, biting the inside of his cheek. "...mostly to keep an eye on you two. make sure you don't bleed out in the back of the cart. like losers." kattigan lets out a well-timed groan, still unconscious, and thjazi can't help but chuckle softly. "we'll be back soon. need anything?"

[4zune]

AT THJAZI'S ORDER, which really isn't an order but it's better for both of them to pretend, he leans back again to his side. he's not a kid anymore, this should not be acceptable by any means but if he pretends... and really his dizziness is not a pretense. “ okay, ” he speaks low in tone.

when thjazi begins to account for his own injuries, all azune can do is nod. it doesn't sound too bad. legs, arms, norma never worried too much about those kind of wounds, all things considered. it is guts and chest wounds that need to be treated fast.

a year back he'd have taken thjazi's jest as literal, a sign of his failure at what were doing. but he's learned to understand since then, when thjazi meant it differently. enough to offer a smile at his chuckle. and a small kernel of relief blooms in his chest as kattigan's groan. pain was good, norma had told him. it meant survival was possible. “ maybe some water, if we have any.” he asks low between them. “ 'm a little dizzy. ”

[davin0s]

That at the very least pulled a grin out of him. Sharp, playful, in that mean and dangerous way of his. 

“Do you presume to know why I came here?” It was that same old mocking tone but contrasting to the way his eyes closed, head tilting slightly as if guided by the brush of Azune’s callous thumb over the soft skin of his cheek. Too delicate and soft for a warrior and a veteran. Only a thin scar across his upper lip marred the perfect visage, like a chip in a porcelain cup. He chuckled low and his eyelashes fluttered as he closed his eyes for a moment.

Almost distractedly, he picked the tip of Azune’s braid, rolling the end with his fingers until it was as fine as a rare ginger brush. It was unclear if he was allowing himself to stay in the closeness of that intimacy, or allowing Azune to keep him there. But he was there, for now, tense but close, looking like he might start to purr at any minute or simply bolt. Maybe not even he was entirely sure. 

Julien Davinos wasn’t a stranger to intimacy, but not of this kind. Any other time he would have pushed Azune back on that bed and let the night take them where it willed. It was what one usually did when death was certain, or when alone with a handsome and willing knight. But Azune asked, or needed something more of him— Somehow giving up his life to die by his side felt far easier. He could give him a hundred oaths if it involved fighting by his side. 

Those green eyes looked up again to watch him, a near perfect jade green, pale and cool. Fast fingers tugging slightly at the end of the braid wrapped around his finger.

“What are we doing here, then?” He said, low and defiant, almost enough to mask the fear hidden behind his eyes. Something soft and scared he wanted to crush between his fingers.

[4zune]

THERE WAS A GLIMPSE of the hard edges he was used to seeing in julien. he'd been used to his sharp tongue in between wine filled nights and kisses that were purely physical. but it seemed like they both slipped tonight past lines they had never crossed with each other before. azune had an educated guess of what he would be seeking in his apartment, but the reaction julien showed at his affection gave him enough cause to rethink his former conclusion.

because the truth was, that julien did not allow himself this kind of intimacy but instead chased it away with what would allow him the upper hand. that's what azune had been used to in all those past nights. but this felt oddly familiar to given trust and he would cherish this memory even if they did not survive the following day.

he was so beautiful like this, even the tiredness and messy appearance of travel. all silver edges as the moonlight hit him from the window. sharp and driven in a way that felt so him, but with this vulnerable undercurrent. a real sliver of julien he didn't believe he allowed himself to rise to the surface. and for a moment, he wanted to let the animal part of him keep him here if only to hoard more of these moments.

he planned to show julien where he'd kept his personal items, and anything that would be useful to the cause. to not leave more questions than answers like thjazi had. but the two people that had stepped foot in this apartment would be coming with him tomorrow.

“ i think, ” azune started carefully, because lately all he accomplished was to use the wrong words for the people he was close with. and he was terrified to ruin this delicate balance tonight. “ we both wanted to prove to ourselves that we were not alone. ”

[4zune]

happy pride month! luis PLS confirm ykuftfyu

[kosmogrl]

[lunarriviera]

[transfemmbeatrice]

thought of this immediately and was delighted to discover it’s the same op

[davin0s]

Julien let out a small, chocked-up gasp, not surprised by the kiss but its intensity. Pain, not unlike his own, radiated off Azune in staggering waves. The power of an ocean that slowly washes all things to shore, dragging up to the surface every moment of grief he had slowly been letting to rot like all else. Already tender like a fresh wound, his grief came back at him with a vengeance and his hand on Azune’s stomach clenched into a fist around the fabric of his shirt, terrified to be cast off to drown in all of it. 

The other hand still gripped the bottle, crushed between their bodies, his only known way out of the pain discarded and forgotten. There was none of the playful possessiveness he had come to know, but a hungry, lonely desperation. He tasted salt on his lips, grief, fear. Too raw, too open, too much.

With a grunt that sounded almost like a wounded animal, Julien finally turned his face to the side, breaking the kiss. He didn’t entirely pull away, his hand still holding a fistful of his shirt, body tense. A nearly drowned man taking shaky, lungfuls of air. He felt just as lightheaded, his mind reeling to grasp at the threads of his thoughts, his cool disregard that always kept him safe from this kind of thing. 

He tried his usual smirk and opened his mouth as if to say something, but nothing came, just a too vulnerable intake of breath that made him feel sick to his stomach. Like offering his neck up for the chopping block. Stupid.

Dead, cursed gods, how he hated him then. 

“You’re not dying, Azune,” he finally managed, voice hoarse. He drew back into himself, letting go of his shirt, almost having to pull his own fingers one by one like the claws of some grasping animal. Somewhere in the mess the knight had made of him, he found the old steady beat of his anger. The cold, reliable steel of a familiar blade. “And if it turns out these Einfasen have been playing the same game as the Tachonis and this is some kind of trap— then they too will pay with their blood. I can kill a couple more sorcerers.” He shrugged, arrogant as ever, as if he he hadn’t just completely fallen apart in his hands, eyes still red-rimmed with unshed tears.

[4zune]

WHATEVER HAD TRANSCRIBED BETWEEN THEM, was unlike any of their previous interactions. it felt far more intimate, raw like the scraping of half-healed wounds. julien felt different too. azune could see it more clearly now that the schemes, and fear, and weariness for the tomorrow had surfaced all together and then pulled back suddenly, with the ocean's tide.

he wasn't good at reciprocating care. never knowing the right words to say, despite being overly aware of other's emotions around him. he could see julien struggling under the weight of it all, as if his own grief was chafing against julien's. now that his focus had solely fallen on this man in his bed, it was easier to see the tears welling in that sharp jade gaze. fighting for control over overwhelming emotions that azune had just surrendered himself to.

“ okay, ” he breathed at the other's first words. who would've thought? back when their fate first met, on different sides of the battlefield, that they'd be tangled like this now. that he'd have his back without being asked to. “ we've showed einfassen the truth of that night. ” azune confessed, cupping julien's cheek, as if that could provide some comfort. “ with careful fabricated evidence, but we did not let tachonis' lies cover up what really happened. ”

there is much that i know of you, harondus had said meaning his service of the falconer's rebellion. and now there is something you know of me. and azune hoped it meant the beginning of his distrust towards house tachonis. he hoped he didn't doom julien too.

he rubbed his thumb over julien's cheekbone, making no move to wipe his own tears but the mask had slipped back in, just enough to reign his fear back in, and for mayali's gaunt face to slip to the back of his thoughts. “ forgive me, i know you did not have this in mind when you followed me back. ” back, not home, because he never could call this empty space home. not after knowing what warmth a home could have.

[davin0s]

Julien’s frown furrowed at the grim confession, his expression shrouded in its own chaos of emotions, the way it did on the rare times he took a pause to think. Forced himself through the process of weeding out his own thoughts before saying anything or acting recklessly. He was not good at this, comfort, talking about things. The only way he knew to deal with his feelings was to drown them in alcohol or let them out all once, usually allowing his rage to lead the charge. Those bad feelings he chose to ignore as he sank into a near permanent stupor.

Yet lately all that seemed to exist was that permanent feeling of things unraveling, one bad thing after the next. The cold certainty that his father, Callowyn, his friends, his whole household was trapped somewhere under Primus Tachonis power, the thought of Alba slowly withering away with every day that passed. His mother’s fear that he would die in some dark unreachable place where she wouldn’t even have a body to grieve over, just like his father. The certainty that he would, that some twisted part of him wanted it.

And now Azune, that beautiful and broken man lying on that bed, as certain of his own death as he was, still walking towards it like a fool. He wanted to look away from his sad, pretty eyes so transparent in that moment. Wanted to look away from the knowledge that he was baring his soul to him then, not all of it, but the small animal fear he had kept tucked away for as long as he had known him. 

I’m jealous, he had said about Julien’s outburst, that he could express his emotions, let them flare out. He had been so composed then, so calm and confident. That man, or that mask of a man was shattered now and all he could see was the boy he might have been. Back when all their lives changed, whent he first pebble of this avalanche had started rolling. He didn’t remember, but he said he had been there— and he still hadn’t used it against him.

His hand rested on Azune’s stomach as he leaned slightly to look at him, it stayed there, steady, solid. He could feel his body rise and fall with each breath, warm and present, achingly alive. He stared at his own hand, eyes glassy, but he didn’t cry. Nothing as dramatic, his emotions held tight like a blade in a clenched fist, bleeding and hurting, yet still not letting go. 

“I’ll come with you, then,” he finally said, unwilling to look at Azune’s face again, of what it might do to him.

[4zune]

A DEEP BREATH EXHALED THROUGH HIS LUNGS at the contact. he knew, like all hunted animals knew, that it was a risk to show a predator those vital spots. he never knew what to make of julien davinos. ever since he’d first saw him in maharlian falls, when azune was on the ground, face caked with mud and blood, a pixie with damaged wings perched on his shoulder, watching a scene he could not change, unfold.

or those nights they spend, tangled in rented sheets and in a desperate search to feel alive. the julien after the massacre of house davinos was the clearest to see. lost, mourning, a weapon honed to avenge those that had hurt him. this julien tonight, is perhaps the biggest puzzle of all. he’d been used to a sharp tongue and possessive touch. the steady hand on his stomach was almost uncharacteristically tender in comparison. staunching an invisible wound that had begun to bleed since thjazi’s funeral.

although a day before, it was his hand staunching an actual wound. and her words that brought a part of a little boy back to life.

julien’s words hit him, as if someone had taken his warhammer and knocked the air out of his lungs. a mere 12 hours ago, he was sobbing and begging asking for assistance in the support of his case. he’d tried his oldest and his closest friend. he’d tried a boy who was not alive anymore but could prove it all. just don’t let me go alone. please don’t make me go with only of what i already have. a small animal noise escaped him. not quite a sob, more of a gasp. at hearing an answer he was searching for, from a question he didn’t know how to ask. after all, julien had been both a victim and a witness to it all.

he’d heard the denials, and the risks and everything he had to be willing, time after time, to give up. but julien, and it might’ve been a big foolishness, offered on his own. a tear run down his cheek. azune, at an instinctual reaction, reached to capture his lips in a desperate kiss. he had no wish for the foods that were promised to him as compensation. only for another to see him as he was. the faulty man behind the mask. and perhaps to feel alive one last time. before that too was ripped away from him.

[nayarazune]

I don't remember everything about the people where I come from, but I do remember some stuff, and I know that we believe people die multiple times and that the final death is when you're forgotten.

[davin0s]

Julien watched him with mild interest, more amusement than anything. He wasn’t familiar with this side of Azune. Most of their meetings had been— well, not fully sober, at least on his part. Or under the pleasant glow of satiated mornings, even he was as pleasant as a purring cat after fucking all night. And then that final night, at House Lloy— Both those things felt as if they had happened several lifetimes ago. Like whoever he was had died that night, and he was just fulfilling his final wish before the flesh crumbled. Other times— other times he dreaded something else had revived inside him. Something he thought was long gone for more than a decade. 

He leaned back on his elbows, watching Azune’s reflection through the full length mirror by the wall, eyes fixated on the pages the way he had seen Illondra fixated on her harp when playing. Intense, absolute focus. 

With a small grunt he shoved it all back down, every sharp memory he was better off leaving alone, and instead thought back to Riesingürtle. To the practical matter at hand.

“We— found our caravan at the Einfasen castle, not destroyed, but not manned either, simply sitting there.” He rested his chin on the bottle, thinking back to that moment, sluicing for the relevant information, what he might care to hear in a report. Then discarded the thought. His mind worked like a soldier’s, he could name how many men at arms, what seemed to be the highest threats, the weak points. Not all that useful in this game of political machinations. “We tried speaking to Lady Ingrid at first, I supposed it seemed like a safer option, but eventually we presented our case to Lord Otto Einfasen.” he shivered slightly, remembering the brutal way he had dismissed his daughter’s handmaiden. “He appeared to not know what had befallen my House and House Royce, but was unwilling to take us at our word only. He insisted on keeping us safe in the comfort of his house until he could make his own investigation.” A mean smile curved his lips, making it obvious what he thought of that. “We made our— expeditious exit when Occtis’ dreadful sisters showed up.”

[4zune]

HE NODDED AT THE FIRST BIT OF INFORMATION. “ varen told me about your caravan, ” azune informed. “ he worked as security in the city for house elbrendi before... " anyway varen wasn't important right now. and if he recalled correctly from julien's reaction back at hal's, it's not a topic he wanted to linger on. “ when you say we, do you mean yourself and lady aranessa? ” azune asked. because if the einfassens had heard the same information from the head of house royce, maybe his plan would work. or maybe the tachonis had already got their claws into them.

would harondus insist on keeping him safe, keep demodus and groto 'safe' just to hand them off to the tachonis? or had the pile of evidence grown so large that they couldn't ignore it? and they were as scared as he was at the thought of the priestly house of death. he knew where his luck usually fell with the houses.

“ sounds like them, they're always looking for hard evidence. you did right to leave, ” azune sighed, and a deep groan escaped his lips. the more he looked at the papers and evidence and the testimonies the less sense it made. his head hurt, his vision blurred, and he wished he, too, could disappear from the window. “ could you... ” the words died on his lips. he knew his orders. suck it up, nayar. would a written testimony from the heir of house davinos change anything? if the lord of the house had already heard the truth from them and it wasn't enough.

he looked at the pack of papers at his side, at the empty apartment. finally at the man on his bed. of all the times he'd imagined julien following him home, this wasn't what he had in mind. what had he led a life doing? azune let his notebook close, carefully placing it on top of the stack, and let his back hit the mattress. “ i think i'm going to die tomorrow. ”

[solitairians]

whenever I confess to people that i feel like I am just roleplaying as a normal person they're always like noooo you don't strike me as someone who's roleplaying as a normal person at all!!! :) and every time internally im like well yes that's because I am excellent at it

[davin0s]

That surprised him, he would never have guessed a king offering refuge to the fae, but from what he knew, the king of Timmony was all kinds of peculiar. His mother had used it as a lash more than once, losing patience in her pursuit of heirs and an advantageous marriage: You’re not a Timmonish bastard, you’re a true son of House Davinos.

Now the same king his mother had looked down upon was offering refuge— yet it wasn’t comforting, somehow it just made the bite taste more bitter. The Golden Orchard was meant to be the refuge after the doors to Tír Cruthú had closed. What comfort was in being a beggar in someone else’s land? What would happen when that kingdom, barely standing in its too young legs, fell next?

He took another swig of the drink and sat on the bed, next to the papers, staring without looking. Azune’s voice brought him back, the words taking some time to shape themselves in his mind.

“Is that wise—?” He frowned slightly, voice careful, thinking back to their visit to Riesingürtle. “We already attempted to appeal to Einfassen’s honor— it didn’t go so well.”

[4zune]

A HOLLOW LAUGH RIPPED THROUGH HIS CHEST, something between a manic feeling and sheer fear, and rubbing a hand all over his face. “ occtis didn’t say anything, ” he said, tone somewhere between strained words and a whine. so, that’s why he didn’t want to come with. fuck. he needed to think, he needed to calculate an angle that would at least allow him to walk out of that room.

“ no, ” it wasn’t wise or useful. it was a trap wrapped in a web lies. and he could only hope he’d scared harondus enough to be listened to. “ but i don’t really have a choice. ” this had always been his role to play. and harondus dangled the sword over his head—his service to the falconer’s rebellion—for far too long now.

he dropped onto the bed next to julien, like the papers before him, and pushing them aside so he wouldn’t drop on the floor. “ can you tell me what happened? ” he asked, more exhausted than he did all day, picking up his notebook and pen from the assortment of papers. if there was anything he could use, or at the very least not be caught off guard he needed to know.

suddenly, there was a flash to a few days prior sitting in the seven stars and listening to romina speaking of gossip from inside the manor, and the helvarian word for betrayal used over and over again. and immediately, with newfound energy, he moved through the papers to find his scrawled notes of that meeting. maybe, just maybe, that appeal got through even if a little late.