#azareth

[veni-vici-vetinari]

25 and 40 for anyone from the OC ask game?

25. What is your OC's deepest desire? Would they ever ask for this?

One of my current OCs is Vyrren, so I’ll answer for him. At the beginning of the story his greatest wish is mostly to keep the king (monarchy state) safe because it was thanks to him that he got on the high court. He’s not a very moral man really, so when the queen died in a tragic accident (went fox hunting, horse flipped on a jump and fell over her) and the king became very depressed, Vyrren decided to slowly poison his drinks and food with a magical mixture he created that would make him forget her. Because, you know, if she never existed her death wouldn’t hurt 🫠.

Later on when the king falls gravely ill (which had nothing to do with the potion, trust) Vyrren seeks an ancient mage who might help him find a cure as all he tried already failed. Said mage reminds him that such spells work by the life-for-life principle and gives him a two-bladed dagger. If he kills one of the king’s sons with the weapon and wounds the king with the other blade, the man will recover from whatever illness possessed him.

Vyrren obviously tries (a bit impulsive my guy, but he’s got the spirit) but his own daughter, Varya, saves the young prince before he manages to do more than wound him. With part of the boy’s blood on the blade, he cuts himself too in hopes that two halves would do for one and goes to complete the ritual. It… fails partly. The king is no longer on the deathbed but not really recovered, Vyrren is horribly drained by the spell but he manages to escape the Palace before he is arrested for treason. (As we remember previously, he tried to murder the price).

I would say that he definitely did a little more than just ask for it…

40. What is your OC afraid of?

Since I started with Vyrren: the original fear was obviously the king dying and though he saves him from disease, he doesn’t save him from a revolt.

He’s both scared of the new noble house which take control of the kingdom (they had expansionistic ideas) but the funnier answer is he’s very scared of the ancient mage he asked for help with the king.

This mage is called a ‘spirit’ in the story, which means he was once a regular human but then was invested with very strong power by some supernatural beings. This, however, happened a long time ago and the spirit, Azareth (or Herrensus which is his official name) lost very much of his magic and now hid in a cave trying to regain his forces and regain the influence he once had.

Vyrren runs back to him after fleeing the city because he’s wounded and doesn’t have a better idea, and Azareth manipulates him into helping him regain his power until Vyrren realises it’s too late. He is very terrified of Azareth, but still clings to some hope that he might save his kingdom and for some reason decides Azareth is his only path to it. Thus he sticks around.

Thanks so much for the ask 💜!

[celestial-love99]

Always kinda funny to remember she actually has a girlfriend, let alone more than one. Like you could have any woman you want but you settled on the clocky crybaby bitch with a bum hip, no real future, and too many disorders to count. Sure, why the hell not?

[mirive]

✧ Azareth ✧

Herensus, spirit of the earth and sky

[anne-wild]

One brat I did not plan to draw today, but it happened. You can blame my Spotify daily mix...

[aalizazareth]

In the Mood for Love | chapter eighteen

🌸Summary: Jidal meet-cute/slow burn AU romance set in Boston, MA.

Han Jipyeong is a lonely and unhappy investor who willingly travels overseas to work for an undetermined amount of time. In a new city, he meets Seo Dalmi, a charming and hardworking MIT student determined to secure a better future for herself and her grandmother. Drawn to her, and the warmth he feels around her grandmother, Han Jipyeong spends more time with Dalmi.

The only problem is what he is running from back in Seoul: a chaebol fiancée by the name of Won Injae.

🌸A/N: *screams in romantic sunday over @azazelazareth *

🌸Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30666053/chapters/85368940

“Dalmi, what—”

“You’re engaged to my sister?” Dalmi cuts him off. “What the actual hell?”

Jipyeong glances nervously behind him and figures he’d better get the door before either Injae hears what’s going on or Dalmi realizes her sister is, in fact, here. Considering how bad his current situation is, he can’t decide which will have the worst outcome.

“Dalmi-ah.” Jipyeong manages to pull the door behind him. “Let’s go somewhere and talk about this.”

“I shouldn’t have come here,” Dalmi replies. “You won’t even invite me inside… What am I doing? I know better than this…”

“I want to invite you inside, Dalmi, I just—”

“Can’t?” she snaps, furiously wiping her eyes. “Let me guess, my sister is inside?”

Jipyeong’s spine feels rigid. His lack of answer makes Dalmi shake her head. He feels like a loser, having let things get to this point. And even now, it seems he can’t manage to step up to handle the situation… one he’s never quite encountered.

“You know what?” Dalmi says. “Nevermind. I don’t want to talk about anything. This was a huge mistake.”

“Dalmi, wait.” Jipyeong trails helplessly after her and comes to stand in front of her, reaching for her arms. He wants to hold her so badly. “It’s all my fault. I messed up, I know. Let me explain...”

“You had plenty of time to explain, so don’t bother. I’m leaving.” Dalmi maneuvers around him and hurries to the elevator.

Before he can go after her, the door behind him quietly squeaks open. He turns to find Injae looking mildly surprised. “I was wondering what’s taking so long. Is the food here?”

Jipyeong smoothes a hand over his jaw. He gives her a hard smile. “You were right, Ms Won,” he says. “I’m not the kind of guy to cheat on his girlfriend with another woman. I’m worse. I’ll fall in love with her sister.”

Injae frowns. “Are you losing it right now?”

“No, I lost it a long time ago.” Jipyeong runs after Dalmi.

[aalizazareth]

le vin d’amour

It’s moments like these, with Dandelion on his lap and a glass of wine in hand, which remind Geralt they made the right decision in settling here together. Living together, it is easier than the Path, which has destroyed Geralt’s body. The aches, the phantom pains, the discomfort, they are almost constant. But when he sits together like this with Dandelion, Geralt can ignore them, forget them.

“Give us a kiss, sweet prince,” Dandelion coos as his fingers comb through Geralt’s hair. “I’ve missed these lips of yours upon mine.”

“Sweet prince?” replies Geralt. “An hour ago it was ‘Gentle Witcher’.”

Dandelion looks amusing as he considers his own forgetfulness. Geralt can’t help but to smile. “Ah, yes, and I do believe this morning you were His Royal Tiredness.”

“Told you I couldn’t sleep.”

“Yes, love, I remember.” Dandelion claims his desired kiss. It’s long and slow and it tastes of the red wine they share. “Shall we try the new herbal infusions tonight? The ingredients in this batch are very promising.”

Geralt takes a sip of wine and he nods. This is it, he thinks. His reason to grow old in Corvo Bianco. Dandelion’s care for him, a perpetual search for ways to ease the lingering suffering of an old witcher, the kisses they share, the wine, the laughter, the warmth of each other — they are reminders as consistent as his past, that his future is here, with no other man.

“I trust you,” Geralt answers, “as I love you, gentle minstrel.”

Dandelion throws back his golden head of curls. It seems as though sunlight pours out of him when he laughs. “And I love you, too. Now, give us another kiss.”

Geralt sets down his wine glass. He is more than happy to oblige.

Inspired by ( x ) via @johix

@lover-of-midnight ✨

[aalizazareth]

In the Mood for Love | chapter fifteen

🌸Summary: Jidal meet-cute/slow burn AU romance set in Boston, MA.

Han Jipyeong is a lonely and unhappy investor who willingly travels overseas to work for an undetermined amount of time. In a new city, he meets Seo Dalmi, a charming and hardworking MIT student determined to secure a better future for herself and her grandmother. Drawn to her, and the warmth he feels around her grandmother, Han Jipyeong spends more time with Dalmi.

The only problem is what he is running from back in Seoul: a chaebol fiancée by the name of Won Injae.

🌸A/N: This might be my favorite chapter of the fic so far. Also only like 5 ish chapters to go til the fic ends! In other news I am perpetually fangirling over hometown cha cha cha on my sideblog if anyone wants to come scream about it with me there @azazelazareth 😭✨❤️ anyway, happy reading! 😊✨

🌸Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30666053/chapters/83638006

Jipyeong doesn’t feel so great the next morning. He sits up against a couple of pillows, frowning at his phone as he scrolls through Park Dongcheon’s email. The flight itinerary is concerning but more than that, when he attempts to track the flight, he finds himself unable to do so — it has already landed. This is bad. It’s so bad, Jipyeong doesn’t even realize he is currently alone in his bed until a gasp comes from the doorway.

“Han Jipyeong!” Dalmi says.

“What?” Jipyeong jumps, half expecting Injae to appear. “What is it?”

“Your hair!” Dalmi goes on to say, and it takes him a moment to realize she is mock gasping as she comes to sit beside him. The two mugs of coffee balanced in her hands are deposited on the nightstand. Dalmi reaches over and fluffs his bangs. “You look so adorable first thing in the morning.”

“Ahh. Hah…” Jipyeong chuckles weakly. “Really?”

“Really-really.”

“Thanks.” Jipyeong thinks the same is true for her. He thinks about letting her know, but his eyes dart down to his phone and betray that his mind is elsewhere entirely. “How did you sleep?” Jipyeong asks Dalmi while he swipes from the flight itinerary to his email. He plans to try checking again later, even though he knows it will be in vain.

“Like a baby.” Dalmi shifts forward and sprawls on top of him, her long hair swishing against his cheek. “What are you doing right now?” Her fingers comb through his hair. When she tries to peek at his phone, Jipyeong jerks the device away.

“Ah. Nothing,” he says with a sigh, “just work.”

“On a Sunday morning?”

“It’s Monday in Seoul.”

“But it’s Sunday in Boston.” Dalmi shifts upright to straddle him. She reaches for the phone again and manages to grab it. Thankfully all she does is chuck it aside. “And you are still in bed.”

“You’re right.” Jipyeong’s arms wrap around her. Although he forces a smile, worry snakes tensely through his gut. He has to tell Dalmi the truth. It’s literally too late not to invoke any further damage. And yet all he does is stare up mutely at her while they rest there in each other’s arms.

“Sleep okay?” Dalmi asks. “You look tired.”

“I think I’ve looked tired since the day I was born,” he says, with a little wry laugh.

[aalizazareth]

Novigrad Exchange

A/N: Written for EtCorSolus as part of the Novigrad Exchange.

Modern Geskel featuring shy Geralt and biker Eskel.

Happy reading! ✨⚡️

The pizza was, by half past seven, as ready as it would ever be. Unfortunately the smell of smoke filling the kitchen wasn’t getting any better. Geralt turned off the oven and kept the windows open, hastening off to his small bathroom to shower. Eskel was coming over for what the ruggedly scarred and confident man likely believed was just a couple of beers and watching a game. The same thing he came over for the last time, when Geralt made that terrible vegetable soup for them (it had no flavor at all) and although Eskel had a few helpings, and said it was ‘good’, Geralt knew it wasn’t a good enough meal for him to confess.

As he showered, he decided not to dwell on the burnt edges of his otherwise lovely arugula and prosciutto homemade pizza. The tomato and basil had really looked quite good, as did the cheese, and Geralt had a backup grilled chicken in the fridge just in case. He washed up quickly, shaving, and toweling down just as his phone buzzed nearby.

|Running a little late| came Eskel’s text.

|No problem| Geralt sent back, happy for the extra time to gather his wits and make any last arrangements to his apartment. It was clean and tidy enough. He’d put the wash away and done his bed, just in case the evening went better than anticipated (long shot) and he’d made sure the sink was completely devoid of soaked dishes. From his closet Geralt pried a navy shirt with a subtle anchor pattern, black jeans that matched his boxers, and he tossed the unshorn portions of his undercut into a bun.

Eskel’s slight delay meant Geralt had a few extra minutes to spritz the air freshener in the kitchen, hoping it would help with the smell of burning. The doorbell rang just as he was putting it all back where it belonged.

“Shit.” Geralt inhaled deeply, wishing his nerves had chosen another time to flare up, and rushed over to the front door. “Yo.”

“Hey man.” Eskel had a twelve pack in one arm. He looked badass in a biker jacket, distressed jeans, and combat boots. For all the time they’d spent at the animal shelter where they both volunteer and first met, Geralt still couldn’t get used to the man’s sheer presence and aura. Not to mention the guy was smokin’ hot. “Forgot the beer and had to get it last minute.”

“You’re all good.” Geralt stood to one side to invite Eskel inside. “Come in.”

“Thank you. Looking good by the way,” Eskel said as he strode past him. “I see that shirt before?”

It was a shirt Eskel had said he liked on Geralt, three or four weeks ago now. But all Geralt said in answer was, “I don’t know, probably not.”

“Heh. Place is looking nice as usual.” Eskel went toward the kitchen to set down the beer. He sniffed and arched a brow. “You burn somethin’ in here?”

“Almost,” Geralt said, with a nervous laugh. “Tried to make pizza and, uh, well…”

Eskel set to work cracking a couple of cold ones while Geralt lost himself in staring at the guy’s shape, always caught like a deer in headlights whenever Eskel so much as existed within the same space.

“And what?” Eskel extended a beer for Geralt. “Burn the thing down?”

“Uh… Let’s see.” Geralt took his beer and walked to the oven. He opened it to show Eskel. “What do you think?”

The scarred man leaned toward the warmth. “Looks fucking amazing. Damn, dude, you made this?”

Geralt swelled with pride at the compliment. Hopefully the food was as good as it looked. “Yeah, I figured we could have a little something with the beers and game. You hungry?”

“I am. Didn’t think of bringing any food though,” Eskel said. “Let me know next time? I can pick somethin’ up.”

Geralt gave a nod, happy there would be a next time, even if the point of tonight was to solidify what he hoped was a series of next-times. He set his beer to one side and took the pizza out, offering to cut it up for them if Eskel wanted to set up their plates by the TV.

“Game’s started,” Eskel called out. “Hurry your ass up, will ya?”

“Coming.” Geralt smirked, food in tow as he rejoined Eskel. He smiled when he found both their beers on the coffee table. Eskel sat with his thick legs spread perfectly, as if he owned the damn place. It was a sight that Geralt, nervous and excited as he was, wanted to see at his place all the time. “Here you go, sir.”

“Thank you kindly.” Eskel happily helped himself to the pizza slices. He took a hearty bite while Geralt waited, with bated breath, for a reaction. “Mmm! Damn, this is great Geralt.”

“Really?” Geralt gave a relieved laugh and picked a slice for himself. His eyes grew a little wide, surprised by his own culinary skill - most definitely a one-off. “Not bad.”

“It’s fuckin’ amazing,” Eskel said, patting Geralt on the knee. “Thanks. You always make somethin’ when I come over.”

“I do?”

“You made that chicken last time.”

“Store bought.”

“Well, what about that soup the other time?”

Geralt coughed. “That was mostly water. It wasn’t very good.”

“But then you had some backup food in the fridge you warmed up, even though I told you the soup wasn’t half bad.”

Color rose to Geralt’s face as he pretended to focus on the baseball game. “I’m glad you like the pizza,” he murmured. “Actually I’m glad you came over.”

Eskel made the slice of pizza he was working on disappear, licked some grease from his fingers, and turned to look at Geralt. “That so?”

“Yeah,” Geralt said, breathing deeply. “I like watching the game with you.”

“And cooking for me apparently,” Eskel said, giving one his rugged, confident laughs. “It’s kinda cute that you do that, y’know.”

Geralt found Eskel’s eyes on him. Those were most definitely bedroom eyes. As their gazes met, Eskel’s hand came up to Geralt’s nape.

“Well, you--you’re better looking anyway,” Geralt said.

“You kiddin’ me?”

“Not at all actually. I like how you look.”

“Do you now?”

Geralt nodded, breaking eye contact for a beer. His throat was unusually dry and he couldn’t even taste the beverage. “A lot.”

“Well, it’s about fuckin time.” Eskel laughed brightly and shifted closer to Geralt. “Wasn’t sure how many more games we’d have to watch before one of us said something.”

“Said something?”

“What else do you like about me, man?” Eskel asked. “Got anything else?”

Boy, he did.

“Well, since you’re asking… I like that you’re consistent. Never miss a day of volunteering,” Geralt said. “You know a lot about motorcycles. You said you’d take me on a ride and you did.” It was the same day Geralt’s fluttering stomach could not be mistaken for anything else. “You’re nice to people, and non-judgemental.”

“So, what you’re saying is I’m basically so awesome you want to cook for me anytime we hang out?”

Geralt bit his lower lip and then chuckled. His face felt like it was on fire. “Something like that. What about you?”

“I think you’re a real sweetheart, Geralt,” Eskel said. “You look tough but there’s a real softie inside ya. And I see what you’re doin’, I like it, and let’s just say I want to make you feel more special.”

“Hmm…” Geralt breathed out. It seemed tonight would go better than he thought after all. “That’s, uh, that’s really good. Want more pizza?”

“Hell yes.”

Geralt reached over to hand Eskel another slice.

“And, uh,” Geralt said, “w-want to stay the night?”

Eskel bit into his pizza, took his time to chew and swallow. The suspense nearly killed Geralt. “Yes, I’d like that very much,” he finally said.

“OK. Good. Me too,” Geralt answered, and he snuck a kiss to Eskel’s scarred side. “Me too.”