#azaiah

[ocamila]

↳ TEXT TO➵ zaiah

CAMILA: so guess what??

[daily-mienfoo]

((Drew a gijinka version of Azzy))

[freespirit-rei]

09.12.2024

[dragonfelling]

Happy STS from @trixierosewrites! If you had to pick a favourite line of dialogue from your WIP(s), what would it be?

Happy STS!!!

From Azaiah's story, quoted from Alexandria,

"... Right. Of course it is. Because you're Daddy's special boy, aren't you? You can have the world and no one can deny you it."

[dragonfelling]

Snippet Sunday

I promised a second one today so here it is! Just a bit late cause I got super distracted watching Arcane today after DND, lol.

Snippet of the Azaiah doc, after Skalono leaves Midonia with Saria and Alexandria. Azaiah almost got killed and is dealing with a lot of conflicting emotions around the situation

🦊

Azaiah was left alone. Again.

He would make his way down the docks to follow the boardwalk. He would return to the cave shrine and fall to his knees before its gaze. He hung his head, hand to his throat and the other gripping coarse sand.

He wanted to cry. He wanted to scream out bloody murder. He would have to face his father when he realized his consort was missing and he would have to lie. If his father found out that he just let her go like that… Without a fight at that! 

He didn't even try to defend his right to keep her! He could have pulled his sword and challenged Skal and while he did not know if he’d win it would at least be something… They were about an even match in a spar but he had never fought any Aeraki in a real battle.

Azaiah wanted her to be free; sail across the sea and find refuge in the mountains of Anemoi. She was never his to begin with. It was all a publicity stunt and a power play by his father- and yet he couldn’t help but feel wronged. 

Alexandria was his wife after all. HIS wife. ONLY Saria was supposed to go with Skalono. He was only supposed to lose one person. 

He curled forward to bow before the cold, unblinking idol, his head upon the altar. 

He curled up like a turtle under his cloak and he did not cry, It wouldn't come out. Nothing but heavy breathing left his mouth.

As Azaiah came down from the misery of a bruised ego, he’d pray for their safe journey. A safe journey for his sister, Saria, and a safe journey for wife, Alexandria.

A safe journey even for the thief. 

Added blood to the altar, spilled by the athame. Azaiah had no coins on him to give, but he hoped his misery and repeated scripture was enough.

When Azaiah returned, he jogged back. If he was going to lie, it would have to be to even the entry guards. All they needed to know was that Azaiah had been on a late evening jog. If he kept a poker face and they did not catch the sadness in his eyes, there would be no questions. 

In the morning when Alexandria did not show up for breakfast, eyebrows would be raised. By lunch, they would look for her and the fallout would begin.

Azaiah had to keep his nerve. He couldn’t be such a coward…

In the morning he saw a certain glint in Xaviers eye. A certain… knowing that flicked something in his intuition. Az looked at him and his brother passed him with a lingering glance.

Did he know too..?

Xavier seemed to be trying to suss out the same question, trying to decipher the caution in Azaiah’s expression.

[dragonfelling]

Snippet Sunday time :-)

I didnt post last week so im going to post two things today ❤️

Messing around, exploring some ideas for a new character. Dont know how important he might end up but it would be cute if Azaiah had a little rivalry with him.

⚔️

Vasko-dy raised his chin as he approached, his sword raised and angled. He was ready for anything… any quick movement Azaiah could throw at him, he was prepared to parry.

Azaiah hated sparring with him… He was much better than his brother Xavier who had to resort to dirty tactics and turned these spars into wrestling matches. In fact, he would rather spar with any of those Anemoians who fought with unrestrained seriousness and would ceaselessly circle their sparring partners like snarling wolves. They were at least titled princes. A loss to them was embarrassing at worst, but at the very least it was not to Vasko.

Vas was… sure- technically a prince. He was the son of an Ishidan Superior but held no status now beyond his fathers favor with Zachariah and the mothers.

He was simply a son of a has-been sire. He was a simple musician. A simple boy with way too much swagger to his step for his place in the world.

His confidence was distracting, as was the judgment radiating from across the room from his father. Zachariah, whome was standing beside Vasko’s dad, narrowed his expression, watching the boy's guard but not making a move quite yet.

Vasko Sr stood at attention, his hands folded politely behind his back as he and Zachariah idly commented on the sons.

They were just slightly too quiet to hear without devoting more attention…

So when Azaiah twitched, his eyes darted to the side and he concentrated on what his elders spoke of, the younger Vasko took that opportunity.

Azaiah found himself back flat on the ground, cringing as his simple peer stood over him with the tip of his blade to his throat.

Vas held it there for a moment then backed up politely to bow to Azaiah and the men who watched him win.

[dragonfelling]

happy storyteller saturday! what's one thing your character NEEDS to hear right now?

HAPPY STS! This one was from last week-!

Azaiah needs to hear that he wasn't a monster in his younger years, he was trying his best, it just wasn't a situation he could win in. He needs to be told he is loved

Ilonia needs to be told to slow down! She'll survive if she takes time for herself and heal.

Chien needs to be told that he deserves to be a kid. He deserves to have responsibility shouldered to someone else for a while. Its okay to live and act like a teen and he doesn't need to be ashamed when he reacts like one.

Cassius needs to hear that there's other options. He could've been happy with someone other then Fluvius jr

Mavros needs to hear TAKE RESPONSIBILITY, YOU DUMB FUCK. Take charge, grow up, and stop being a puppet.

Amara needs to hear that shes not broken. She needs to know that her aromantism isn't something wrong or a result of previous relationships

[dragonfelling]

Azaiah's story - Cont

A continuation of last Sunday's snippet about Azaiah, co-wrote with @the-majestic-pterodactyl-senpai

*Warnings for parental and domestic abuse, as well as misogyny and religious fuckery

-

Under the ward of Cane, there was no winning.

Azaiah knew that if he were to speak up against his father, There would be more than Alexandria getting hurt. Mitigation of damage was the only way to play the Monarch’s game.

Yes, his loved ones would hate him for a time… but at least he could isolate the violence.

Xavier would not be beaten, their mothers could keep an ounce of pride, and Alexandria would forgive him eventually for daring to give her a taste of life outside castle walls. 

He could at least quietly hope that she would.

Azaiah crouched down on the boardwalk to slide down onto the rocky beach. He offered a hand up to her to assist her in getting down past the bars.

He walked her to the quiet place where Bardhanna and Sibora would go to pray. He did not say much, but he really didn't need to. It was clear this was an important place and Alexandria remembered this secret place from her youth.

A secret nobody dared to speak to Zachariah. 

A small shrine of Rryme was erected here: a symbol of all the Cane siblings' heritage. The 3 mother’s Sea Goddess.

She was carved from the cave stone. While it was not very good, it still resembled her form. She wore a bristly fur that was draped over her.

Bardhanna told the Canes that the cloak was from when they were brought here and that this was a boar fur cloak was Sibora's

She told them stories of their home; stories of Rrymes influence and power beyond the waves.

Various items were left upon the altar: Shells, bones, coins, and old jewelry. Food that was left was eaten by gulls or rats.

The Goddess’ head and altar was stained black with old, repeated sacrifice and she held an athame, or otherwise a ritual dagger.

Azaiah gave his wife a nervous glance before kneeling before Rryme and pulling some coins from a purse. He placed five in an arch, then took the athame from Rrymes mouth.

He sliced into the meat of his left thumb and let out a breathy cry.

He let the blood leak upon the coins before stacking them in a neat pile with the others. This was a common prayer for an Ishidan man, whose recitements and offerings differed from that of women.

He smeared his hand upon her face, sighing and whispering a quick prayer. It was meant to be spoken in the language of the Luminary, but he had fallen behind in those lessons long ago. Zachariah raged when he found out his son was speaking an Ishidan tongue.

When Azaiah was done, he placed the blade back where it belonged after wiping the edge clean on the inside of his cloak. He got up to crouch at the shore where he washed his hand clean in the brine and held the wound until it stopped bleeding and stinging hard enough to make Azaiah cringe.

Alexandria starred in utter disbelief. Az was a loyal Midonian who prayed to Cextos and honored their book. To see him performing such forbidden magic… It seemed absurd.

“Why?” she asked plainly, shaking her head and crossing her arms to protect herself from the cold.

“I'm letting The Goddess know I'm here. I'm letting her taste my sin. If she tastes my blood, if she decides I am no good… then she will pass her judgment alongside the Lord.”

Alex gave him a long, hard look.

“Pick one. You really should make up your mind soon, Azaiah. You can't have both Rryme and Cextos… in the end it's one or the other.”

Azaiah stood up slowly, sighing and staring out into the sprawling, swirling dark ocean.

“Is that right?”

“Do you choose Ishida, or do you choose Zachariah?”

Azaiah turned from the ocean, pulling his cloak off and pulling it over her shoulders.

“It really doesn’t need to be one or the other. Honestly, I'm not interested in a theological debate. I brought you here to show you that I'm willing to trust you… I know you think I'm my fathers son. My mother thinks it, your mother thinks it, Bardhanna thinks it. Really though, at this point in my life the only ones who can really judge me are the Gods. When they deem me as evil as him, my punishment will come down hard and heavy for whatever lines I crossed.”

“There’s no DEBATE, Azaiah. Just-” she shook her head at him again, approaching with a scrunched nose and furrowed brows. “Just look at our mothers.”

Azaiah glanced back towards her, tightening his own expression, "What about our mothers? You clearly have plenty to say about the subject. Go on, say your piece."

"They tried to have both, you know this. They tried to have Rryme for themselves and Cextos to appease that monster. But in the end, they had to choose. They all chose Rryme. Cextos has none of their love."

"I'm not choosing Cextos out of survival. I worship both with my whole heart, this is a completely different set of circumstances."

"... Right. Of course it is. Because you're Daddy's special boy, aren't you? You can have the world and no one can deny you it."

Azaiah shifted his feet and turned his body fully towards her finally. He frowned down at her, his voice dropping into a harsher tone.

"I don't want an argument. I wanted to show you something I thought would bring you some peace, I wanted to show you a vulnerability and you're turning this against me."

Narrowing her eyes back at him, the corner of her mouth twitched

"Whatever, daddy's boy. Your vulnerability is meaningless at the end of the day. You will never truly know life the way Xavier, Mom, Sibora... Bardhanna- even me- know it. You are an outsider looking in on us like we are... some sort of animals in cages. Go back to daddy, then. Go back and plot your guys' next big scheme. Maybe you could out Xavier next? Perhaps then daddy would consider you for the throne? Oh, or- No, nevermind. You would never."

Aza gave her a long, long stare. His mothers eyes, and his fathers coldness.

"Huh, Dad was right... I *have* been doing a great disservice to you. I *have* been letting you stray way too far."

“Oh? Did daddy say that, special boy?” Taking a step towards him, hands on her hips. Turning her cheek to him. Az took a quick step back, recoiling.

 “Then do something about it. Make daddy happy, special boy. Give me a good hit, then you can go crawl on his lap, suck your thumb and tell him all about how big and strong you are.”

Clenching his fists at his side, Az stammered,  "I-..."  

He stared down at her, opening his mouth to say something else and then closing it again. He hesitated for an awkward long few moments then grit his teeth before raising his hand, taking a step back forward and bringing an open palm down on her hard and swift.

It echoed through the cave.

Alexandria’s eyes and jaw clenched shut as she was slapped, flinching but not making a single sound. She did not move her hands, not even to hold the reddening, swelling skin.

She opened her eyes slowly as she powered through the pain, glaring up at him and looking as if she could jump at him and tear his throat out at any moment. She shifted her jaw then spat at his feet. A ball of phlegm streaked pink from cutting her lip on her teeth.

 “Good boy. Daddy’ll be real proud of you, special boy.” 

“"You think I'm some monster, I can't change your mind, so sure! I'll be my dad. I'll be the son of Zachariah-Fucking-Cane and tighten your leash you bitch.”

She turned away from him to start walking out of the cave.

Shivering in anger, Azaiah took a deep breath and watched her leave.

Turning his head to the shrine of Rryme he suddenly felt so, so much worse.

Cursing himself, he internally lamented.

How could I have done that here of all places?

Taking a few deep breaths he went to follow her out, holding his arms and keeping his head down. He picked his cloak off the beach sand, his wife had discarded it like trash. He brushed off the sand that clung to the fabric and pulled it back over his shoulders.

When he caught up he didn’t say anything but the guilt on his face said plenty. Plenty, but hardly enough. Alexandria did not speak a word to him either. She wrapped her arms around herself to keep warm as they made their way back up the sandbar and towards the castle. She barely even cast a glance his way the whole time, rage palpable in the air from both sides.

Azaiah gave her a long few steps of space away from her and she pulled herself up the boardwalk before Azaiah could even offer help.

Alexandria only turned to look at him as they arrived at the castle gates. Really, she looked past him as she opened her mouth to speak. She decided against it though and just scoffed and shook her head.

She retreated to their mothers, and Azaiah would slink to his room to mope and hope nobody would disturb him.

Later, his mothers would get after him for his horrid behaviour.