#omah azir
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“What will it become of me?”
So… Azir will have to abdicate.
This is the harsh decision I’d been previously talking about in the Soothsayer section
This isn’t just me pulling even more so from TBSkyen’s playbook – check out his What’s The Deal With Azir if you haven’t – but doing what’s objectively the best thing for everyone, and agreeing is necessary.
The night before he does it he summons all his retainers and friends in a private meeting and tells them that what awaits them will be something that’s never been done before. And like he was told, it will sting like removing a thorn: necessary pain.
From that day forward, his crown will forever be replaced by Taliyah’s handmade coronet.
First, he’s welcomed fine. Well, even. People applaud him and cheer for him and tell him he did the best thing. He’s not even, like, giving up on absolute power to live a soft cottage life on his own (especially since I loathe that trope). He’ll still live in the palace and wield power, just a power that’s shared and earned instead of owed and given.
But once he leaves the dais and goes to his rooms to freshen up… suddenly he’s in tears.
No, why? Why? What’s happening. I did the right thing. I did everything right. Why am I crying? What’s wrong with me stop stop stop I don’t want to cry why am I feeling so bad why…
But deep down he knows why. He threw away everything he ever was – everything he worked for – in exchange for a fairer, yet uncertain future. No more "no god but Azir". No more celebrations. No more tributes and worship. Just an ugly ruined bird body and a mighty enemy who hates him.
And he knows Xerath is probably laughing at him, from wherever he is. So he was right, he's not an Emperor anymore.
Even if for a good cause – he lost everything now.
"My lord? We're about to begin the toasts. Are you..."
Nasus finds him as he sits on his own bedchambers, repurposed and cleaned for a fair rest. He races to him, looking about at his body and around the room. But he knows, more than ever, that most of Azir's tears come from a pain he cannot see.
He put his halberd aside and sits by his side, embracing him in the now familiar motion.
"Oh, baby bird..."
"What will become of me?"
"I..." Nasus cannot speak. He can't leave Azir hanging, but at the same time there's not joy in that truth. And his child has suffered quite enough.
So he just sits there and hugs him.
After a while, with Azir still shedding tears, Sivir finds them too. She sits behind Azir this time and pulls him close. Then Taliyah follows, curling up between his arms and Nasus' and allowing him to hold her as he weeps.
Somehow it's reassuring to see him so distraught. That means the sacrifice was there, the choice was indeed hard, and they can count on him as a guardian even if he's not a god on earth.
But after growing to like him, after knowing what he went through up to that point, those tears sting them too.
After his tears have expired, Azir stands up, wipes his face and kisses each one's forehead.
"I don't know what happened, I just... I couldn't hold back"
"Is your choice done?", Nasus asks. Azir gives him a distant nod. "Like removing a thorn, is it not? Heh..."
"Have a drink," Sivir says. "Relax for the night. Just celebrate like all of us. I've learned that if you worry too much you end up empty-handed. And we don't want that, don't we Azir?"
"She's right. You deserve a night of fun. Maybe it'll help you find your way as it did me".
Taliyah holds him by the hand and gently leads him back to the hall where everybody is celebrating on the newly risen People's Republic of Shurima. Mercenaries and merchants, commoners and bourgeoisie, naasaj and Nazumah, old loyalists and new friends, some old and most young. Even Renekton, in the isolated temple where he's been put to rehabilitate, was brought some of the foods and a small drink. Just one day ago he allowed Azir to touch his face. Your hand is so soft, he said.
Was it not unsafe, he almost wishes Xerath could see it. Another loss for him, and a win for them all.
He watches as specialties from all around the land are brought in, different wines are mixed together; as Taliyah's young friends show off their sails to K'Sante's ex beloved Tope, General Adanna twirls in her beautiful dress as Samira and Akshan clap, and the same Soothsayer who foretold this same event laughs as Raz Bloodmane fills his mouth with grapes until it bursts. She probably saw that too.
So let us dance, let us applaud, let us be one. Tomorrow we'll think of the future – plans for battle, shelter, music and art, and Azir's own new masterpiece: a state home for orphans called House of Imani.
I was wrong. I did not lose everything after all.
#lol#league of legends#lor#legends of runeterra#azir#omah azir#emperor azir#nasus#taliyah#sivir#k'sante#tope#samira#akshan#adanna#raz bloodmane#kadira#zaifa#Samir#renekton#azir’s new groove#how did the song go? your perfect world begins and ends with us or smth?
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shurima shitposting 12/?
#shurimeme
#league of legends#lol#nasus#xerath#azir#shurimeme#memes#meme#shurimemes#shurimians#noxus#noxians#shurima#shurima shitposting#shitpost#grand magus#omah azir
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Nasus and Renekton are biological brothers but Azir and Nasus (and by extension, Renekton) have been called brothers in like, the brothers-in-arms, brothers of battle sort of way. Azir's last name is "Omah" unless they retconned it, and Nasus/Renekton don't share the Omah surname. So yes Azir and Nasus are absolutely dating.
riot confirmed
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Name: Ur Omah
Nickname(s):
Age: 15 or 29
Gender: Male
Species: Ascended
Faction: Shurima
Class: Mage
Status: The Little Prince of the Sands
Sexual Orientation: Pansexual
Romantic Orientation: Panromantic
Parent(s)/Guardian(s): Azir
Education: Runeterra Academy
Morality:
Height: 6'5
Weight: 196lbs
Feather Tone: White
Hair: Silver
Eyes: Purple
Body Type: Slender, but well built
Appendages: Bird Features: Feet, Talons, Claws, Head
Tattoo(s)/Piercing(s):
Scar(s)/Birthmark(s):
Abilities/Powers: Can control sand and most minerals.
Clothing: Armor like his fathers but Silver and Purple, adorned with Amethysts
Hobbies: Sand Surfing, Building Sandcastles, Playing Pranks on others, Collecting Stones and Gems (shiny things)
Personality: Silly, Polite, Derpy, Knowledgable, Sneaky, Adventerous, Outgoing
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Three Crowns
Azir wears three crowns during his second life.
One is his imperial crown, the one that symbolizes a power that wasn’t earned and that he squandered once already. It’s gold and thick and heavy, ostentatious to a fault.
One is the crown of nettles Xerath imposes upon him. It’s a source of torment and a mockery of his old self.
The third is Taliyah’s coronet.
She weaves him as a surprise, based upon his own tastes. It’s fine, artisanal; but not royalty. Yet it fits him and it’s lightweight. Each gem represents one of his friends or lost family, their supports look like small sun discs and it shimmers in the light.
It’s perfect.
Azir has other garments he puts on his head – two main ones for each phase to be exact.
In the imperial phase there was his golden helm, the one in the shape of a falcon head, and the bejeweled headband he had when he came back to life. All symbols of status and royalty – only the latter being authentic to Azir’s true self. Hence him wearing it in his first act of kindness.
The humiliation phase has the cowl of his tunic and the leather falconry hood. All garments that dehumanize him and exist to reduce his power. He didn’t choose any of them and only appreciates when they him avoid heatstroke or feel safe and alone.
The atonement phase has his half-helm, mostly used for battle, and a white silk shawl lined with pearls. It’s delicate and fine, but practical as well. Expensive, but not imperial. Sometimes used as an ornament to embellish his look, sometimes as a veil to conceal himself, since it’s mostly sheer, as the trauma never truly left.
And crucially used to wrap and shield others too.
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Remember this thing?
From the Legends of Runeterra “Empires of the Ascended” cinematic?
It’s called the Seal of the Emperors and it says that it’s crucial to ensure Azir’s power.
When he abdicated, part of the ritual involves him shattering it burning it into a special brazier, so that the land may still prosper under a democracy.
He’s tempted to do it with his eyes closed. Let the moment pass quick, so it doesn’t hurt much. One moment he’s absolute god-emperor, the next he’s just a big hawk with a lot of torture scars and a stone coronet. So quick he cannot feel it.
But then he faces his needs and… no. This cannot be.
I don’t get to escape this time.
Cowardice doomed Shurima once. It cannot happen again.
So he takes his time shattering the seal, crunching it like a biscuit in his strong fingers, and lets it fall into the fire slowly. Keeping his eyes on the metal until it’s melted and gone.
He can feel his parents stirring through the halls. You fool, you small-minded simpleton, you wretch among all wretches. What have you done. You ruined your House, you ruined your land.
But the water runs as smoothly as the first day.
#league of legends#lol#azir#emperor azir#omah azir#azir’s new groove#xerath#shurima#lot#legends of Runeterra#empires of the ascended#I may write a short story about his abdication
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Even after Xerath is taken down and placed somewhere where he cannot hurt no one and no one can hurt him, Azir cannot rest.
For he must put an end to the Darkins, which he also caused with his stupidity and selfishness.
And to come to the root of the problem he must come to the one who shattered his old friends in the first place. Yes: he will climb Mount Targon and find the Aspect of Change, to make a pledge to make it right.
Myisha isn't there, of course (for Azir would have punched her in the face and it wouldn't have been diplomatic). There's a new Aspect, Zoe is her name, and...
Azir sucks at many things, but dealing with a child? That's HIS field.
#league of legends#lol#azir#emperor azir#omah azir#azir’s new groove#zoe#lol zoe#should I call this arc 2?#I just want the Darkins to have something nice
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The heavy restraints Xerath imposes on Azir mean that he cannot articulate his needs. Which can be simple needs such as thirst, hunger or rest, or something more specific – like that point when he’s running a fever and feels as if he’s sizzling from within.
He cannot call for help, look around for a solution, even touch the sore part. All he can do is endure: feathers drenched in sweat, fettered limbs twitching, a constant sense of nausea that won’t ever leave.
The next day he takes the chance to tell Xerath about his situation, even knowing that speaking when not called upon will result in more pain.
“Did anyone come to my father’s side, when he was on his deathbed? Did anyone comfort him?”
“My l-lord, please…”
“DID THEY, AZIR?”
“No, they d-didn’t. He died a-all alone.”
“And alone you shall be, to pay for his life as well as for your other crimes.“
But I didn’t kill him, Azir thinks. What even is his thought process?
“You’re not special, Azir. You’re not an emperor anymore, and you deserve all the pain that you’re receiving. You’ll do like we all did and endure, endure, endure.”
Azir knows it won’t kill him, but… how much can he take before he forgets himself? It’s all so blurred, so… scalding. He can’t even think right.
He remember when he would get sick as a child, and it was Xerath who would embrace him, heal him, bring him ointments and cold compresses and heathy food, and read him books to pass the time when he was too weak to hold them.
But the past is in the past.
“Now get back to the stones. When twilight comes, you’ll get your punishment: how else will this stupid bird ever learn not to speak out of line.”
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The fateful day comes.
After months, years even, of gentility and leisure, Renekton is quelling down.
The days he spent at the palace where Azir put him are the most pleasant he can remember. He lounges in the gardens, fights whenever he has to take something out, and the treatments and perfumes are a comfort setting.
And one day the choice comes to embrace his brother.
They’ve seen each other in the past, through the enchanted glass that has been installed. They held hands. They’ve long spoken. Nasus played song after song for him. Seeing him and coexisting with him is slowly turning into routine once more.
Embracing each other is the final step.
“Only if you’re ready, dearest uncle. His pain is great still.” Azir tells him.
Once Renekton slipped his arms through the bars of the window and strangled Nasus until guards came to his rescue. He took it out on himself, hitting his head and slamming his snout on the walls.
But it was also a long time ago.
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. Bring him here already. I want to smash that snout in a hug.”
And Nasus comes at last.
He wears a padded outfit to protect himself, there’s a vial of narcotic and a small blunt parrying dagger at the back of his belt, and guards stand by unseen.
Azir waits behind a column, sweating cold.
“Brother… dearest.”
“It’s me, Renekton. It’s me. Come close, if you like.”
Renekton raises his hand, allowing Nasus to touch his. Hands of fur into hands of scale.
“Can I hold you, brother?”
“Yes, Ren. You can. As long as y-“
But Nasus is cut off by Renekton squeezing him so tight he reaches for the vial for a moment. Yet the brotherly warmth of Renekton grounds him, tears bubble up and down his face, and the Butcher’s strong arms keep him near.
“I’m sorry, Nasus. I’m sorry.”
“It’s not you, honey… oh, come here.”
Nasus covers his snout in kisses and tears, holds him tighter and loose again when he realizes he may choke him, and Renekton too weeps of sorrow.
It’s done.
Azir sighs in relief behind the column. He’s seen Nasus self-flagellate about Renekton’s state enough already. This moment is the best he could have wanted.
Then Renekton’s voice raises.
“Where’s Azir, my golden boy?”
Nasus wipes his face. “Come here, baby bird. Come to us.”
And Azir does. Slowly, savoring the moment, in the beautiful twilight of Shurima.
#league of legends#lol#azir#emperor azir#omah azir#Nasus#Renekton#azir’s new groove#brothers reunited at last
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Local birb doesn’t know he’s a victim of child abuse.
Original by realnorireed
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Taliyah at court
“I wish to speak to you, child. Do sit here, don’t be afraid. In the state I’m in, I couldn’t attack a worm.”
Taliyah drags a chair by Azir’s bedside and watches him as he wraps himself into layers of silk and linen, so much so she can barely see the wings Nasus had mentioned. There’s rocks, outside the tent, used to keep it in place: Azir says one wrong thing and gets clubbed.
“Do you find me a cruel man?” Azir asks.
Yes, and stupid and oppressive too, she wants to say, but the signs of his misery are too palpable and abundant. On a stool by his bed there’s the empty stained cup of the vitality drink he has to consume to feel strong once again, the now dusted brush for the feathers, and some towels damp in sweat.
“You need to understand…”, she says. Azir’s eyes widen. That’s neither a yes nor a no.
“Things aren’t the way they used to be, Azir.” He winces at being called by his birth name instead of my lord. Xerath made him hate that name with every mellifluous strike of the tongue. “Things that in your times would be seen as benevolent have now become cruelty. There’s more voices being heard, more perspectives coming to light. If you keep ignoring all those for your own sake… yes, that would make you cruel. But I don’t think you have to be. Now that you’re here, you have a chance to start anew.”
In such a state? Don’t make me laugh. If there’s anything he can do to make it right, to raise his beautiful city once more, it was lost after his entombment.
“Anyone can change, my lord. If you’ve found it in you to survive an ordeal such as yours, I’m sure you’ll find it in you to see things in a new light. It could bring you a joy you’ve never known.”
“I just know I want to heal, start over from my year-long suffering. And I want to do good.”
“Then come meet the Naasaj. If you treat them gently, they’ll welcome you.”
“No emperor has ever…”
“Then you’ll be the first.”
I respect your wisdom, Nasus, but it’s not in my interest to help a man such as Azir. Whatever disgrace befell him, he remains above requesting the help of lowly weavers.
He’s… he’s been tortured, Taliyah.
What?
He’s been taken by Xerath, he’s held him for more than a year. I adore him, but I cannot care for him on my own. I’ll repay you plentifully, and… make sure he doesn’t forget.
Azir curls up into a ball of sheets and sweaty feathers. His fever is receding, but it will take time.
“Listen, my lord. I feel bad for what happened to you. You didn’t deserve any of that. But don’t think I don’t know what your plans for the weavers are.”
“Then why are you here? Shouldn’t you be… weaving or something?”
She wants to slap him. “Because some people do things for good, Azir. Think about it, the next time you need help. And because Nasus cares for you, and he’s done me good in the past.”
Nasus cares for me? Oh, well. Of course he does, I’m his Emperor and he’s my tutor and advisor.
“We need to band together against Xerath. We includes you. There isn’t much to choose anyway.”
Don’t tell me what to do, Azir would yell. But who’s he to yell, after being disgraced in such a fashion.
What’s left of him.
This mellows Azir out. He wipes his sweat, takes a sip of diluted sleeping powders for the pain, and sits up.
“I started out wrong, child. My sickness mustn’t dominate on my senses. Stay here. I’ll have some drink made, if it pleases you. I want to know more of your… weavers.”
“Do you want me to talk to you?” She asks awkwardly.
“Xerath would read me books when I got sick. He’d never let me go. He smiled at me as if even me growing bored was a slight on his dignity.”
“Did you… care for Xerath?”
Yes, before I forgot myself and him.
“I did, and still I do. If he’s still a man, somewhere.”
That is unexpected for her. She never knew Xerath as anything more than an enemy.
Maybe there’s some good in him.
Maybe he’s just selfish and nostalgic.
“I’ll bring tea for both, alright? This will ease your pain. You’re going to love the weavers, I know.”
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Things Azir learns after his captivity is done and he has to commune with his retinue.
• cooking first and foremost. Xerath forced him to make his own meals with disastrous results, so his retainers helped him get his footing in the kitchen to “not give him the last laugh”. He’s not that into it and never becomes a five-star chef or anything, but he can feed a room, and when they come across a band refugees fleeing the rampaging Xerath they taste imperial meals.
• he’s taught how to sow and mend his clothes by Taliyah – with plenty of finger stinging from his part – so he can keep his tunics in shape. He embroiders a memorial pattern in the dress he wears when he abdicated. I Z I. Imani Zeina Ibrahim.
• to care for Nasus better he learns to give out massages, and one can hardly imagine the Curator’s relief of letting go for once and being cared for by his soft birb son.
Things he already knows how to do that come more useful than running an empire
• playing music
• caring for children
• being authoritative
And I’ll make a scenario with Azir cuddling a baby asap.
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“Who’s your favourite person, Azir?”
My father, he’d say.
His Imperial Majesty Saif VI is strong, fierce and proud. His gaze can freeze the heart of every enemy and his blade is so fine not even shields can parry it.
He shines like the morning sun in his imperial attire, and wears his crown like another piece of himself. On his own he tames the wildest horses and commands the fiercest of his hounds. Soldiers dangle from his lips whenever he speaks, and their heart burn in unison to his for the glory of Shurima.
One day, I pray, I too may be as strong as he.
“Who’s your favorite person, Azir?”
My father, he says.
In truth, I have many favorite people. Taliyah is probably the kindest, just for putting up with me and showing me the right way. I now cherish her like a child of mine and trust her advice blindly. Sivir is the joy of my eyes, a testament for a better future and the work that must be done. But my father remains my favorite, and I pray he too feels the same for me.
My father was my anchor in the darkest days, the light that guided me to hope and fight anew. His embrace is as soft as flower petals under the morning dew, and his voice so gentle it could placate a storm.
His blade is firm and swift, striking quickly and leaving no trace. He can play five instruments, recite whole books, write all forms of poetry, and his stories feel as real as the dreams of my unquiet nights.
And when he speaks to me, when he calls me his own, when his tired smile falters on me in my moments of despair, I rise anew by his side, blessed by the love that gives me purpose.
Thank you for remaining by my side, dearest Nasus.
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Azir the comforter
Azir and Nasus had always had a strong bond.
It didn't start strong, of course. Baby Azir was TERRIFIED of the giant humanoid jackal and alligator towering over him. But since an emperor cannot be afraid there was no parental skirt to hide underneath, and a couple weeks of sweet coaxing and welcoming smiles (as well as Nasus' outright refusal to cane Azir's hands when he flunked his studies, in defiance of imperial orders and praxis) turned fear into curiosity, to fondness, to affection.
As a young prince, the runt of the Emperor's litter, more preoccupied with studies than with battle, Azir was always destined to become closer to the Curator than to Renekton. Nasus always felt bad at having to kick him out when the time to close the libraries for night would come. He brought him dates and tea and bread with honey whenever he spent the afternoons in studies, and held his hand in place of his parents during the funeral of all his siblings.
A prince cannot cry in public... but he can in private, and Nasus' soft hairy chest was the perfect spot to shed his tears. "Don't fret, little bird... it wasn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything. You'll be alright... and whatever your parents may attempt, me and Renekton will always have a place for you"
When Azir was lost into his ascension, Nasus railed at Xerath with a fury previously unknown... so much so even Renekton could hardly recognize his tempered brother.
-What did you do to him? You monster, how could you... he was so good!-
Alright, he's partly biased, but we'll excuse it for loss.
And then Renekton was lost, and so was Azir... and Nasus was alone in a foreign desert, no hand to hold his own after having held so many.
Years pass, then decades, centuries, and then millennia. Azir is lost in oblivion, Renekton is locked in agony, and Nasus has lost taste for life. Sometimes he thinks back of Azir, his sweet little bird, choking his sweetness in imperial artificiality, unable to follow his heart through the loss, the duties, the fears, his biases and an ego he cannot control.
When Azir comes back, Nasus is overjoyed: he swears to himself he'll never, ever lose him again, and no pain or harm shall ever befall his cherished little bird.
So guess what happens when Xerath finds him.
~ ~ ~
One night, during Azir's imperial tour, he finds Nasus late at night, in a creek between the dunes behind the camp, practicing his swings with the halberd while everybody else – even Azir himself, who's relearning how to socialize and have fun – is chilling round the fire with a drink.
-I must train, my lord. My blade shan't ever miss a swing.-
-It's past midnight, Nasus. What you must do is rest. Put that halberd down and come back to the camp at once.-
Nasus winces back, holding onto his halberd. -I insist, my lord. Your welfare comes before my leisure.-
-And I, as your Emperor, insist back. It's a pleasant night...-
-I MUST train, my lord!-
How dares he scream at his Emperor? Azir stumbles back, frightened at the sudden growl... and aghast at Nasus' out of character behavior. He's out of breath, tongue dangling, eyes agape – a mad dog, or one in pain.
-My purpose here... is to protect you. Xerath is after you, the kingdom is in shambles, and you're the last thing remaining between us and ruin.- No more Xerath, Gods... no more Xerath! -You were lost, you... you were cold, and Renekton... and then you were gone, for a year, without knowing... without helping, as he... gods, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.-
-Nasus, dear, we don't have to...- Azir doesn't want to think about that. It's done, he suffered and wept and screamed, but things are going better now. Nasus holds Azir's hands so tight it almost hurts, and tears fall down his snout. Whatever he's been holding, it's been there for so long. Has he been drinking? No, not Nasus.
-I'm so sorry, my lord. I know you told me I shouldn't feel to blame, but... It should have been me. I should have taken your place, I'm stronger... and it's my duty to protect you. It should have been me...-
Stop... stop, shut up. Azir raises his hands, unable to speak. The image of Nasus going through all that is enough to make him tremble. He knows he didn't drink, because he knows his Nasus, but that makes his rage and tears real. How long has he suffered after losing us all? Things Azir never thought about, but which cannot leave his mind now that thinking is all he does.
-I failed Renekton, I failed your father, I failed you. Twice over I've failed: it shan't happen a third time. May I not ever know any joy until you...-
-ENOUGH!-
Orders still come natural to Azir, and the sands quake as he taps his staff onto the ground. Nasus' tear-stricken face rises from his arms, and onto Azir's chest, as he sits by his side and holds him close.
-You didn't deserve that. I didn't deserve that. We're here to make sure it doesn't happen again... but we're here to live. If you want me to heal, let me move on. And do so yourself.-
After all, Azir thinks with jaded sadness, if Xerath didn't kidnap me he wouldn't have to send Renekton away from me. If he didn't send him off, my retinue wouldn't have taken him – and he wouldn't be on his way to coming anew. I loved him too. I love both. I'm... tired of going back to that.
Nasus kneels onto the sand, head in one hand, choking soft sobs in his fingers. -My lord, I know... but I don't know how.-
-We'll be alright, my friend.- Azir takes Nasus to his feathery chest and wraps him into his own shawl. -We will be. Now cry it out.-
-My lord, you're the Emperor,- Nasus giggles through his tears. -You shouldn't be the one caring for me.-
You are immovable. But so am I. -I've done... much less imperial things in my life. Besides, an Emperor should have the last word in such things. Now cry it out. Tomorrow we'll talk about this. In front of... dates and tea and bread with honey.-
Nasus sniffles, chokes a laugh. -I missed you so much, little bird.-
#lol#league of legends#azir#emperor azir#omah azir#nasus#xerath#renekton#azir's new groove#would I reference that movie if it wasn't about Azir learning to be nice?
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A little preview on the next Azir’s New Groove vignette, with a familiar character.
Guess who this is.
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@den-of-evil mentioned how “my” Azir and Zoe would get along if they met.
This got me thinking.
I know the Azir I write isn’t full-canon loyal. He’s softer, more humble, more willing to check himself and weighed by old and new trauma.
I tried to make it clear that this guy is the same who says “go forth, make them kneel” and “Shurima, your Emperor has returned”. Just with a heavy dose of karma and a big gulp of the humble juice.
But at the same time I wanted to know your input.
So… do you like this Azir? Do you think it gels with canon, or it could in the future? Do you think I turned him into an entirely new character or are there still signs of the Emperor of the Sand?
#league of legends#lol#azir#emperor azir#omah azir#azir’s new groove#Shurima#xerath#nasus#taliyah#Sivir#Renekton
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