#⚔︎ drabble

[diabotsis]

I do love little small world building scenes in my head though.

Like, young N entering the war room alongside the sage he was learning under for that day's lesson. The Sages and their inner circles all casually stop talking about whatever it was they were discussing to acknowledge the king. The Sages all rise to bow, Ghetsis' bow is most shallow, and he is the one to extend his hand towards N to properly announce his arrival.

[inseparableduo]

She couldn't stop scratching her arm. Even now as skin embedded itself under her nails. Blood down her arm. "Hey." She said quietly. Trying to stop herself from crying. They were the first person she’s called who actually answered.

"C-Can I come over?"

[quartzhearted]

red wolf moon, year xx.

[ THIRD CORRESPONDENCE W. KINGDOM OF BRODIA. ]

Hey, honey,

So it's been a year.

I haven't been writing very often, and I'm sorry about that. Here I am, begging all sad and pathetic for you to send a letter or two, and then I go and disappear for a bunch of moons. I'm alive, rest assured. Just suddenly very, very busy.

It's still a little hard to accept all of what's happened. I'm alive. I shouldn't be. But I am. And I've gotten to talk with Diamant and Alcryst, I've gotten to meet friends I never thought I'd make, and I've got an armful of new weapons just for being here and teaching a bunch of kids. It's sort of like how things used to be when the boys were young---you know, with those academy parent-teacher meetings and what-have-you. Not going to lie, I'm really glad we don't have to go to those anymore.

I still haven't figured out exactly why I'm here, but I'm starting to wonder if maybe I don't need to know. Don't get me wrong, I'd love to know why me of all people, but it isn't like we're born knowing what we're supposed to do with ourselves anyways. I wasn't supposed to be king of Brodia, and look how that turned out. I try to remember that, and sometimes it helps, but other times I feel like that's not enough. I don't know. Being alive again isn't usually something humans have to consider a lot, right? Or there'd be way more silver spoon-assholes shitting themselves about inheritances.

But if there's one thing I can thank this whole fiasco for, it's being able to keep watching Diamant and Alcryst grow up. I can remember how bad it hurt, acknowledging that I'd be losing that. It was a weird feeling for sure---it hurt worse than dying. I felt so stupid when I threw myself into danger but it was too late to fix it. On top of that, I could have killed them with my own hands. I wasn't in control, but that doesn't matter. It still would have been me. Okay, I think the topic got away from me. What I mean is that it's really nice that I can keep watching the boys grow. I know you're probably worrying about them a whole lot since they're not home. I've got my eye on them, so don't worry.

I really miss you. I'm running out of flowery and pretty-pose ways to say it (not that I really had that many to begin with). Alcryst took a group of folks back home to Brodia, I remember, and he'd asked me to come. I told him I couldn't and it crushed him. It crushed me, too. I miss being home. I miss seeing you. I miss pissing you off in bed until you kick me in the back and I fall out. I hope you're doing okay after everything.

I hope someone is helping you. I've learned that getting help isn't such a terrible thing. Telling someone the things that worry you can feel really, really good.

My chest doesn't bug me as much as it used to. I think that's good. Maybe it means I'm healing, or maybe it means I'm getting closer to the end. I like to think it's the former, but if it's the latter, that'll be okay, too. I'm starting to be okay with a lot more stuff now.

There's a year's worth of things I still want to tell you, but they're about to send the mail out and I want to get this to you ASAP. Guess you'll just need to look forward to more letters from yours truly. I love you, bug. I'll write again soon.

Signed,

Morion, Professor of Axe, Sword, and Authority at the Officers Academy

[heirtoharrenhal]

𝐓𝐇𝐄   𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆   𝐒𝐔𝐍   𝐆𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐒 off scales like the edge of a blade, and Harwin wonders idly if all kings are first crowned by the beasts they tame. He had long seen men cower before swords and fire, but this boy, this son of his blood, stands before a dragon and calls it by name. Remarkable, truly. Jacaerys knelt, unafraid, the soft curve of his palm outstretched toward the beast’s waiting maw. Harwin watches, heart an anvil in his chest, as the dragon rumbles deep in his throat. A boy and his dragon. A prince and his birthright. Vermax exhales; the gust rustling the curls atop Jacaerys’s head. Then, slow as the dawn breaking over the Blackwater, he lowers his snout and presses it against the small, waiting caress. There is something sovereign in the way he moves, in the steadiness of his hands, the sharp, knowing gleam of his eyes. A young lad, yes, but no ordinary one. Oh what a thing he is; this child of fire and blood, of unbroken spirit and steel-spined will.

A father’s pride, though he may never name it as such; the breath and sinew of his own making—and he feels as though he has been split open, carved hollow and left to brim with something too vast, too overwhelming to be contained. It is agony, in its way. A love so deep, so all-consuming, and one he cannot claim. He cannot tousle the dark curls that sit unruly atop his head, cannot clasp his shoulder in the quiet, wordless way a father does when he wishes his son to know he is proud. He cannot lift him from his feet after a hard-fought match in the yard, cannot teach him the things a father teaches his son—the secret strengths that no one speaks of, the truths that only blood may share. Instead, he only watches. He watches and he aches and he knows.

[thef1rstwound]

Of course he didn't dare be in normal eyesight; not wanting to be a distraction from training for anybody or risk the headache of causing gossip with his mother's people. So he settled somewhere higher up, shadowed but still sun warmed and with enough light he could read the book he'd climbed up with.

Comfortably lost in the pages even after the dismissal. At least until the book slipped from his hands as he'd drifted off slightly. Reaching out to try catch it because he was not looking to brain somebody or catch an lecture. Yet managing to just hit his hand into it so it went further away, faster. Wincing at it hitting an red clad shoulder; followed by pages down into the ground. It didn't take long after his shoes finally hit the ground, for both set of eyes to stick on him and two vastly different types of judgement unspoken. Beaten to the quick retrieval of the book by his mother. At which point the solider reasonably made the snap judgement to leave without an word. Coward, briefly rattled around in his head but it was the wisest course of action. "It wasn't one of your finest soldiers anyways."

[cursefought]

zynth hears it more than they see it.

back turned to the rest of the fight, taking on true soul nere and his sergeant thrunn, everything in the warlock turns cold as ice as he hears the last choking cry for help from someone who their heart had grown ever close to. it was not a whimper, not a plea, it was a desperate bloody wail for help & everything in the once cold warlock curdles sour and then bitter like bile & blood.

without thinking, they scream ──

"GALE! NO!"

only for his love's body to hit the ground, bleeding out.

the blood still left in them pounds in their ears, a burning of cold flame of the stars & icy depths of space fills them with a rage they have not known in so very long now. they think of the smile that gale shared when they both channeled a bigger part of the weave together. they think of the way gale laughs so big, and smiles as if he's forgotten how to ( & still looks beautiful while remembering ). they think of the way that they might not get to tell him that he lo─

something in zynth SNAPS.

"You're getting IN MY WAY."

nere, down to two blasts, last breath being a poisonous one. thrunn, down to a slash across the throat and being tossed into the lava. archers shot into lava with a repelling blast from their eldritch inclinations. mages burned alive with unholy fire by a sibling cackling madly for but a moment as she realizes that they've finally pushed zynth to CARE ( & not in a way that favors them ).

astarion, perched on the edge of the watchtower, stands up from his hiding position and watches with wide eyes as a warlock almost seems to... spread wings through use of misty step, through use of haste, through use of spells that they shouldn't be able to use.

it was almost as if...

these two could truly kill a god.

"Gale, you fuck, don't go dying on me now!"

astarion can't help the chortle as the battle dies as quickly as it began. ( he's heard that passionate anger before - heard that love in the wrath before. these next days will be fun. )

[ealdfrith]

test post

⧼♞⧽ NULLA A AUCTOR DIAM. Maecenas efficitur congue eros, eu lacinia tellus vehicula eget. In efficitur risus tincidunt, congue eros quis, faucibus ipsum. Nulla molestie ante vel condimentum commodo. Aliquam vel felis fringilla, posuere ipsum ut, molestie leo. 

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Suspendisse condimentum, leo eu lacinia iaculis, turpis quam vehicula ex, at blandit ex est eu dui. Phasellus rhoncus diam purus, at aliquet erat facilisis vitae. 

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[skeltnwrites]

mady's 1k celebration !!

in celebration of 1000 of you (what the hell??) every day for the next week (starting tomorrow) i'll be posting a drabble from this fun little project i've been cooking up. i also want to say thank you for the love you guys show me on this blog! this is my little safe space to hang out and i’ve met so many lovely people here because of it <3

To the Stars— ⚔︎ ݁₊ .

knight!steve x princess!reader — forbidden love, fell first/fell harder, grumpy x sunshine tropes | cw fem/afab!reader often written with hair long enough to tie up

As war brews and marriage looms, a princess and her sworn protector must decide if love is worth the risk of losing everything else.

✴︎ day one — steve kills to protect you

٠ ࣪⭑ day two — you share your fruit with steve

✴︎ day three — steve has a gift for you

٠ ࣪⭑ day four — steve sneaks in to see sick you

✴︎ day five — you get very drunk at the feast

٠ ࣪⭑ day six — steve listens to you pleasure yourself 18+

✴︎ day seven — you dream about a family with steve

[pa1nrema1ns]

𝐕𝐚𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐬 || 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨 (𝟏𝟖+ 𝐎𝐧𝐞-𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐭)

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫! 𝐒𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐢𝐧𝐰𝐨𝐨 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦! 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

"𝐈 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐮𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝, 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝, 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐧, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐩𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐛𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝." – 𝐒𝐚𝐜𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐦 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐮𝐦 (𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐎𝐚𝐭𝐡)

⚔︎⛊ A/N: This piece began as a drabble but soon became more of a self-contained story. Although I wrote with the intention of creating a one-shot, I may expand upon the gladiator AU and include more hunters in future works if there's enough interest (I'm looking at you Baek Yoonho, Thomas Andre, and Liu Zhigang).

⚔︎⛊ Word count: 5.6k

⚔︎⛊ Content warnings: 18+ mdni, smut, concubine!reader, ancient Rome au, reader has a dark past (implied non-con), rescue romance, switch!Jinwoo, p in v, gratuitous praise, intimate healing (heavy focus on consent, words of affirmation, and the reader reclaiming her bodily pleasure and autonomy), abrupt ending/sequel hook.

⚔︎⛊ Dividers by: @fairytopea and @uzmacchiato

Impoverished and on the brink of starvation, Gladiator! Jinwoo willingly throws himself into the fire, volunteering his fate to the arena.

𓆩✧𓆪 Dressed in rags, hair matted to his forehead, and with nary a coin to his name, he stumbles through the streets of Rome. He is a scrap of a man, ill-suited for the rage of battle and the insurmountable odds that await him. Despite this, he is uncompromising in his decision. If there is even the slightest chance of securing a better future for his family, then he will gladly place his life on the line as many times as it takes.

𓆩✧𓆪 Jinwoo would go so far as to sacrifice his soul and his humanity for strength. No matter how high the cost may grow, he must become stronger for the sake of his mother and Jinah. He made a promise to his dying father that he would protect them, and he intended to keep his word.

𓆩✧𓆪 His desperation drives him to enter a divine covenant with a cunning magus known only as the Architect. Cloaked in mystery and with unknown origins, the sorcerer drives a deadly bargain. The binding agreement? Become a worthy vessel for the god of death, Ashborn, and he shall be blessed with overwhelming power and limitless potential. Refuse, and his life is forfeit. Desperate and with everything to lose, he does not hesitate to accept.

𓆩✧𓆪 Jinwoo rebuilds himself from the ground up. His days are filled with endless clashes against man and beast, his life an ever-present struggle for survival. Any moment may be his last, and yet, he perseveres. He flourishes in the bloodshed, weathers the pain, and as time passes, he acquires the skill and physicality of a formidable combatant. Gone are his boyish features, replaced by the sharp edges and pensive countenance of a man. Once frail and waiflike, his frame is now packed with heavily corded muscles. He cuts a fierce figure on the sands of the Colosseum.

𓆩✧𓆪 Jinwoo fights with all the fury of the gods. Concealed in a mask of anonymity with twin daggers in hand, he leaps into the fray, sparing his opponents no quarter. Anything goes on the battlefield. Yesterday, these men were his brothers in arms. Today, they are his enemies.

𓆩✧𓆪 Steel slams against steel in rapid succession, the vicious strikes reverberating loudly across the arena. A torrent of slashes rains down from Jinwoo's blades, each attack calculated and precise. He unleashes a terrifying display of efficiency, tearing his opposition asunder, dealing blow after devastating blow until none remain standing.

𓆩✧𓆪 Spectators are momentarily stunned into silence, awestruck by what they have witnessed. This pregnant pause is soon broken by a single round of applause, then another. Within seconds, the rest of the audience erupts in cheers, their excitement reaching a fever pitch at the unveiling of a new champion.

𓆩✧𓆪 Hours later, Jinwoo slips into the arena morgue under the veil of night. His newfound abilities as Ashborn's vessel have made him well-versed in the afterlife, and he can discern the chittering cries and lamentations of the dead. He hears their calls for revenge, liberation, and glory. All the fervent dreams they failed to achieve in life.

He takes a moment to honor his slain comrades, bowing his head as a sign of respect. After paying his dues, he parts his lips and issues a single command.

"Arise."

𓆩✧𓆪 Jinwoo’s feats of valor have become known far and wide. Dreaded by his fellow warriors and revered by the Roman populace, he is exalted. But the spoils of victory and hollow accolades mean little to him; as long as there is food on the table back home and his mother and younger sister are safe, then that is more than enough for him.

This changes when he encounters a reward far too tempting to resist.

Jinwoo's throat bobs when he first sees you.

You stand in near nakedness next to the overseer of the games, clad only in a sheer gown. The fine silk does nothing to preserve your modesty—it just accentuates your shapely thighs, round breasts, and the gentle curve of your hips. You're beautiful, he thinks, like a rose coming into bloom—delicate, soft, and oh-so-sweet.

He bets you taste delicious too, like nectar and ambrosia.

When you take your place up front on the podium for all to see, it finally dawns on him that the prize for emerging victorious this time isn't freedom, fame, or fortune—it's you.

For once, Jinwoo yearns for something beyond absolute power or dominance. He longs for the tenderness of a woman. Hardship and loneliness are all he's ever known throughout his young life, and now more than ever, he wants someone who can soothe his weary heart.

Shortly before the start of the gladiatorial games, an orator announces that the emperor has provided one of his finest concubines as a gesture of goodwill. Whosoever procures the most kills during today's bouts will be allowed to keep you as their whore. Excited and scandalized chatter breaks out amongst the crowd at this unexpected turn of events.

Over the commotion, your gaze meets his, and Jinwoo is instantly drawn into your eyes; they appear to tell a story, one drenched in sorrow and tears of blood. The anguish that mars your lovely face is palpable, and he feels a sudden surge of anger coursing through his veins.

A thing of beauty such as yourself would not have been spared from the cruelty of men, especially those in positions of power… You must have suffered greatly at the hands of the emperor. And now, that bastard was offering you up as a pleasure girl to a horde of violent fighters. You were a veritable rabbit in a den of wolves, exposed and completely defenseless!

His expression darkens, and he grips one of his daggers with such ferocity that its hilt shatters. He decides right then and there that he must have you.

Jinwoo refuses to idly stand by and watch as you're dealt a fate worse than death. He's noticed the way these brutes leer at you and overheard their crude remarks and lewd intentions. It infuriates him, and he vows to slaughter every last one of the competition. He'll dirty himself with crimson and gore, if need be; anything to claim you for himself.

Armed combat and melee commence posthaste, and immediately, Jinwoo sets about wreaking carnage. He slits throats, severs heads from bodies, and crushes organs, all with the cold indifference of a man scraping shit off his boots.

The usually bloodthirsty spectators gasp; even the overseer is rendered aghast by his savagery. You’re also left in a state of wide-eyed disbelief at the massacre, not quite grasping what you saw.

A single thought runs through your mind.

Could this really be the same man from earlier who gazed at me with such kind eyes?

Daylight bleeds into dusk, and at last, the dust settles. Jinwoo stands as the sole remaining contender in a sea of corpses.

He breathes deeply and exhales, and with that simple act, he seems to discard all sense of brutality. The man proceeds to nonchalantly twirl his daggers, flicking blood off the blades before sheathing them. Then, without missing a beat, he launches himself onto the podium, landing almost directly in front of you.

In an unprecedented event, an eerie quiet descends upon the Colosseum. There’s no raucous laughter, jeers, shouts, or the sound of hands clapping—only a collective feeling of apprehension.

The officials seated nearby are frozen in fear by his presence. They can merely gape in trepidation as he approaches. You inhale sharply, only to break into a sudden fit of coughing. The air around you has become saturated with dense magical energy, making it nigh impossible to breathe.

Panic-stricken, you begin to shiver. When his footfalls inevitably grow louder, you shut your lids and curl into yourself, preparing for the worst. However, what greets you is the sensation of a warm and calloused palm cupping your cheek. Your breath hitches, and you open your eyes in shock. You haven’t been touched this gently since being separated from your family. It was soothing and heart-achingly familiar.

You cast a glance at Jinwoo, and at this proximity, you can observe the subtle confidence in his cobalt blue eyes, the evenness of his features, and his long lashes. He’s startlingly handsome and younger than you expected. Your hackles lower ever so slightly.

Sensing your lingering unease, the man sends you a small, reassuring smile and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Then he speaks to you, his voice deep and melodic.

“Easy, love. I’m not going to hurt you—I’ve only come to claim my prize.” He then lowers his tone and leans forward until you can feel his breath tickling your neck. “You’ll be safe with me, I promise,” he whispers solemnly before adding, “I’ll take nothing from you that you aren’t willing to give. Your body and your heart belong to you and no one else. Remember that for me, sweet girl.”

You’re unsure how to react; the sincerity behind the man’s words contrasts drastically with his monstrous violence in the arena. It was jarring, but you found yourself desperately wanting to believe him.

Jinwoo soon steers his focus to the game’s overseer, and his docile demeanor quickly dissipates. He’s remarkably terse when addressing the feeble patrician, “I take it His Imperial Majesty is a man of his word, is he not? Then, according to the rules in place, this woman is henceforth bound to me. Unless you have any objections, that is?”

Your heart races wildly as you cling to Jinwoo’s every word. The emotions you’re experiencing right now are a mix of anticipation, amazement, and fascination. Never has a man gone so far to possess you. You were complete strangers, yet here he was, threatening the upper echelons of Roman society on your behalf. It was... oddly endearing.

“No—no! Not at all.” The overseer appeared as if he would faint at any moment. “It is just as you say, champion. To the victor go the spoils! You are free to do with her as you wish.”

“Hmph, then I’ll hold you to that.”

Jinwoo turns on his heel without wasting another breath, and a hint of a smirk tugs at his lips. He returns to your side and wraps his obsidian cape around your shoulders.

The raven-haired man chuckles at the puzzled expression you make—Gods, you were so damn cute. How could the emperor relinquish such a precious jewel? The old fool must have lost his mind to discard you so callously. Well, no matter—you were in better hands now.

“You must be cold in that flimsy dress of yours, little songbird,” he teases while coiling a robust arm around your waist. “I can feel you trembling underneath my fingertips… What say we head to the baths before retiring for the night in my quarters? A good soak and some companionship should warm you right up.”

You don’t miss the seductive glint in his eyes or the way his voice deepens as he purrs his sultry proposition. You blush and glance down at your hands, suddenly bashful despite yourself. How did this man manage to make you feel so shy with his flirtations? It was disarming and incredibly alluring, a sharp contrast to the unwelcome advances you had become so accustomed to while living at the palace.

“I—I… would very much like that,” you stutter nervously, still too embarrassed to look him in the eye. Fuck, you had a pretty voice too, like the soft chiming of a bell.

He imagines how divine you'll sound while screaming his name.

Jinwoo dispels any further reservations you might have by dipping his face into the crook of your neck. He mouths against the sensitive flesh, trailing feather-light kisses. The sensation of his lips brushing a specific spot behind your ear elicits a breathy moan from you, and you arch your back in surrender.

The gladiator smirks against your skin before slipping out his tongue and dragging it across your earlobe. He husks, “I can make it worth your while, sweet girl, but only if you agree. Say the word, and I’ll worship every inch of you with my mouth—” he emphasizes by nipping at your ear, “my hands—” he palms at one of your breasts, slowly rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, “and—” he presses his clothed cock along the swell of your ass and sneaks his hand down to cup your cunt, biting back a groan when he feels how soaked you are beneath the fabric.

A searing heat pools in your lower abdomen, and your eyes flutter shut at his ministrations. In the background, the audience is brought alive again, hollering and catcalling at you both, but the noise does nothing to stop the pressure mounting in your core; it only causes a fresh layer of slick to trickle down your thighs.

After what seems like an eternity, you finally regain some sense of clarity and beg, “Please, don’t stop! I want this; I want you! Please—”

Jinwoo gently turns your face and silences your ramblings with his lips. The kiss is initially tender and fleeting, a simple caress of his mouth against yours. However, he’s quick to pry open your lips with a smooth swipe of his tongue. He then slips inside your mouth, coaxing you to slide your tongue over his. You readily submit, grabbing the nape of his neck and deepening the kiss. The weaving of your lips soon devolves into something languid, sensual, and primal.

At the last moment, Jinwoo manages to reel in his lust and reluctantly parts from you. The gladiator's restraint hangs by a single, precarious thread, and he wants nothing more than to ravish you, but not here. Not in front of all these prying eyes.

Before you can fully register what’s happening, he grasps you firmly to his chest and rasps in your ear, “I'd say it's high time we take this somewhere more comfortable, huh, love? Hold onto me tightly; this will be a rather hasty escape."

'A hasty escape?' What could he possibly mean by—!?

"Exchange."

Darkness. The void that absorbs you is filled with nothing but darkness. Person, place, and time have no permanence in this pocket of space that exists somewhere between reality and the ether. Then, just as quickly as this inexplicable situation begins, it ends. You are present again, whole and in the flesh, as is Jinwoo. The packed Colosseum, however, is nowhere to be seen. Instead, your surroundings have been replaced by the entrance to a sprawling complex.

Upon second glance, you notice it is a bathhouse, and an opulent one at that, if its elegantly manicured gardens, marble structure, and decorative stucco are any indication.

Did he use his mana to transport us here? But how? Only an experienced mage could possess such skills. Just what manner of man is this?

You worry your lip between your teeth as you mull over your concerns, but before you can become too entranced, an abrupt squeeze at your waist breaks you from your train of thought. It was the gladiator, and he was grinning at you broadly.

“These are the imperial baths reserved strictly for victors. I hope it is to your liking…? Are you alright? You’re so pale.” He brushes his hand over your cheek and questions you in an affectionate tenor.

“Tell me, are you afraid? Were my words not enough to quell your fears, little dove?” His smile shifts into a thin line as he intently studies your face. Ashamedly, you nod your head and avoid his gaze.

“I see… Then what can I do to prove myself to you?”

The muscular arms that embrace you loosen enough for you to take a few tentative steps backward, away from him. You regard the gladiator with a twinge of suspicion, an action you could hardly be blamed for; magical prowess of this caliber could rival the elite mages of the praetorian guard. This man was undoubtedly dangerous, but he'd been nothing but amicable towards you.

Conflicted, you take a deep, steady breath before addressing him, this time by name, “Sung Jinwoo, who exactly are you?”

You raise your head as you speak to him, and there’s a gleam in his eyes: ravenous, predatory hunger.

He was trying to intimidate you, to cease your meddling. To entice you into compliance.

Yet you continue, unabated, “You slaughter others as easily as one draws breath, then you effortlessly demonstrate a type of magic that would take the most learned magi years to master.”

You walk back toward him, slowly and purposefully, stopping only when you both stand face-to-face.

“Do the gods favor you above all else, or are you born from divinity? Are you…are you human?”

A pang of guilt twists at Jinwoo’s conscience. He always knew that he would have to reveal his identity at some point, but not under these circumstances.

He sighs and provides you with a half-truth as an answer. He knows it won’t suffice, but at the very least, it might assuage some of your worries.

“I am human, but only just. That is the best explanation I can give for the time being. Please, do not ask or demand any further from me. Those are my only rules for you, love.” He leads his fingers down your spine as he implores you.

Your expression softens, and you splay your hands on his bare chest, above his beating heart. The rich texture of his skin, his earthy musk, and the pulse of vitality beneath your palms are all indicative of humanity.

In little more than a murmur, you speak to him, “Jinwoo, you command me not to be frightened, yet part of me is, and I resent myself for it. But how can I be at peace while alone with a man who wields power beyond all understanding? You could effortlessly break me if you so desire, yet you'd have me believe otherwise?"

You suddenly burst into a fit of tinkling, derisive laughter, making the gladiator swallow thickly. Even in scorn, you sounded beautiful. If only you were laughing for a different reason —a joyous one.

"Do not mistake me for some naïve, tenderhearted maiden, Jinwoo." You continue in a subdued tone, "I’ve witnessed evil and corruption by men much weaker than you. I know better than to let my guard down completely.”

Nonetheless, your touches become bolder and more sinful. Your hands drift lower, smoothing over the rippling planes of his torso; he exhales shakily through his nose, and you can’t help but admire the delicious flex of his muscles as he does so. You decide to see how far you can push him, tracing the veins along his V-line with your fingertips while sucking at his neck and collarbones.

He lets out a strangled noise when you bite down hard enough to break the skin. “And wh-what about the other part of you, hmm?” He manages to grit through his teeth, “For someone who claims to be so scared and jaded, you sure are handsy—oh shit!”

Rather than responding to his jest, you unlatch his belt with deft fingers and slip your hand into his loincloth. Just from the feel of him, his cock was painfully hard and leaking. Your mouth waters at the thought, driving you to free him from the confines of his undergarments. Jinwoo releases a hiss as his dick springs up and slaps against his toned stomach.

You drink in the sight of him, admiring how pretty and thick his flushed cock is. The shaft emerged from a soft thatch of curls, and it was a dark shade of pink that tapered into vibrant red at the tip. Creamy pearls of precum dribbled endlessly at his slit. Intrigued, you skim your fingers around the sensitive glans, coating them in his essence. Then, without breaking eye contact with him, you raise your hand to your mouth and lap up the salty fluid.

The gladiator groans appreciatively, and the sound shoots straight to your throbbing cunt. You press your thighs together to alleviate the ache, an action that does not go unnoticed by the perceptive, raven-haired man.

“Feisty little minx, aren’t you?” He croons sweetly, “And here I was, foolishly thinking you were so shy. No, no, wait—don’t pull away from me! I crave more of you! I need more of you! Unveil to me the smoldering temptress hiding within you, and I swear to tell the truth of my origins. I swear it.”

Jinwoo’s feverishness sends a thrum of pleasure throughout your body. It incites a dormant fire, a desire to take the reins. The roles between the two of you have been reversed; now, he is the one pleading for your touch, whilst you were in control. No longer were you a caged bird or a helpless little girl. You were a minx, a playful and vivacious woman, full of life.

At least, that's how you feel in the moment.

You smile and press a pacifying kiss to the gladiator’s lips, gliding your tongue in his mouth to savor his vulnerability. He moans and melts into you when you begin stroking his cock in tandem, alternating between fast, twisting motions near his head and long, languid pumps from base to tip. You breathe him in, sighing wistfully.

“We’ve only met, gladiator, yet you pine for me so fiercely… but why? I’ve done nothing to earn your devotion or reverence. I am not your goddess, your Domina, or even your lover; I am merely an outlet for sexual release.”

You’re interrupted mid-sentence by an arresting grip on your wrist. In an instant, Jinwoo had dispelled his lustful haze, swiftly reminding you that he was a deadly warrior, a far cry from the ham-fisted nobles who sought you only for their sexual gratification.   Your body draws taut, like a viper preparing to strike, and you ready yourself for what’s to come, awaiting punishment for acting out of line—

But you're greeted by kindness and comforting reassurance from Jinwoo instead.

“Enough, darling; say not another word of this nonsense. I will not tolerate any blemish on your character. You are not an object, a tool, or a treasure to hoard. You are as human as anyone else, and you are worthy of being cherished.”  

You falter under his intensity, unprepared for such an impassioned response. Sex has… always been mechanical for you, a perfunctory duty expected of a concubine. You lost the right to personhood the day the emperor vanquished your homeland. Spared solely for your beauty, you were stripped of all autonomy, reduced to being the unwilling bedmate of the very man who tore your life apart. The emperor stole your innocence, your family, your hope—everything.

You were sullied, made unclean, and defiled.

A calloused thumb swipes away tears you aren’t even aware you’re spilling.

“Shhh,” Jinwoo hushes you as he strokes your cheeks. “Oh, love, please don’t cry. These tears are not the type of wetness you deserve.”

You sniffle softly and try to avert your gaze, but he maintains a steady hold on your face. The gladiator locks eyes with you, piercing cobalt seamlessly transforming into an icy blue. There’s anger in Jinwoo’s expression; instinctively, you know it isn’t directed toward you.

“Did Antares feed you such lies about yourself?” He spits out the emperor’s true name, pure venom lacing his voice.

Your silence is answer enough.

The gladiator’s lip curls, and he internally fumes, That fucking bastard! How dare he torment you like this? I’ll kill him—I’ll kill him if it’s the last thing I do!

“Jin…woo?”

His rage recedes when you call out to him, his eyes regaining their original color.

Jinwoo exhales sharply and composes himself; he’ll have his vengeance in due time. Currently, you are what matters most to him.

“The emperor’s hold on your heart runs deeper than I thought,” he surmises. “I’ll have to cleanse you of his influence. Only then can you be free of him.”

You stare at him inquisitively, not quite understanding what he meant. Before you can ponder it for too long, you’re hoisted into a sudden princess carry by Jinwoo.

“It’s okay, sweet girl, I’ve got you, and I’m not going anywhere,” he coos, rubbing soothing circles at the bend of your knee. It grounds you, makes you feel safe.

“We can’t undo the past or deny that which has already happened. We can only move forward, forging a path of our own. So come, let us wash away your troubles together. I promised you warmth and companionship, and I am a man of my word.”

Jinwoo peers down at you expectantly.

You nod and nuzzle your face into his chest, basking in his body heat.

The corners of his mouth lift.

“Right, let’s get ourselves cleaned up then.”

“Ahhn—ah! There! Right there, Jin—augh!”

Your needy whimpering dissolves into a loud, wanton keen that bounces off the marbled walls of the bathhouse. Around you, scattered pieces of armor, leather, and the shredded remains of your garments lay strewn in a haphazard pile, a testament to the gladiator’s brute strength and utter lack of self-control when it came to you.

Plumes of steam waft from the heated water, turning the air dense with condensation. It has a dizzying effect, further intensifying the delirium brought on by yet another mind-shattering orgasm. You babble incoherently—a slurred mixture of Jinwoo’s name and pleas for more—as you come for the fourth time that evening. Despite this, you can feel the gladiator’s cock swelling inside you, virile and throbbing with need.

Gods, he was insatiable.

You adore this side of him.

It had been roughly an hour since you set foot in the large facility, and throughout this time, Jinwoo couldn’t keep his hands or lips off you. He’d all but mounted you the second you began to disrobe, pushing you up against the nearest pillar and impatiently tearing at the fabric concealing your body. He was a man starved, eager to devour, relentless in his pursuit of sustenance.

And his tenacity had at last borne fruit.  

“Oh, fuck!” He raggedly breathed at your bare and unencumbered form, eyes blown out and wild. You were perfect like this—incomparable in all manners.

“Beautiful—you’re so damned beautiful… Venus has not half your loveliness, nor a cunt nearly as sweet.”

The gladiator then drops both his hands by your hips and pulls you flush against his twitching cock. He maneuvers your body like a puppet, parting your pussy lips with his shaft and guiding you to glide your heat over the outline of his member.

A tremor runs down your spine when your clit grazes a particularly thick vein on his cock. You grind down on him, desperate to satiate the scalding need throbbing in your pussy.

“Jinwoo, please—mmph!”

He steals your voice by slotting his mouth against yours, earning a moan from you. Without pausing, he shoves a hand between the apex of your thighs, seeking out your slit. His dexterous digits are quick to roam over your glistening folds. He slides his index and middle fingers along the hood of your clit and toys with the sensitive bundle of nerves, lightly swirling at it before applying more pressure and friction. This earns a long, drawn-out moan from you, and you buck your hips into his hand, seeking further stimulation.

Just before you can lose yourself to him fully, Jinwoo pulls back from your lips, choosing that exact moment to delve both fingers into your tight, wet pussy. You choke and whine at the feeling of fullness, drawing a dark growl from the gladiator.

“Good girl, keep making those pretty sounds for me. Hell, you can scream if you want to. We have this entire place to ourselves; we can be as loud as we fucking want!”

He punctuates this with a rough curl of his fingers along the roof of your walls, effortlessly pinpointing your sweet spot. The effect it has on you is cataclysmic. Bliss, raw and in its most potent form, courses through your veins. A spring coiled tightly within you finally snaps, careening you over the edge of madness. You unleash a wail that unfurls into a high-pitched scream as Jinwoo ruthlessly fucks you through your climax with his fingers; the stimulation verges on being unbearable, blurring the line between pleasure and pain.

A sheen of sweat coats your writhing figure as you frantically scrabble for purchase, one hand scratching fruitlessly at the cold, polished surface of the wall as the other rakes its nails over the broad swath of the gladiator’s back. He relishes the sting, urging you to sink deeper by hiking one of your legs around his lithe waist.

Through the blood pounding in your ears, you hear his husky voice faintly in the background.

“That’s it! Come undone for me, love. Keep clenching around my fingers, moan my name—yes! Just like that! Gods, you’re everything I’ve ever wanted. Take whatever you need from me, sweetheart; I’m yours.”

He rewards you for your obedience with hot, open-mouthed kisses along your shoulders, the column of your throat, and the soft slopes of your breasts. The gladiator sucks harshly at the smooth expanse of skin, leaving splotches of purple in his wake.

As you descend from the exquisite ecstasy of your high, Jinwoo slowly pulls his hand from your sopping pussy, gossamer strands of slick clinging to his fingertips like honey. He brings his fingers to his mouth and laps at them, deliberately replicating your actions from earlier. A lascivious moan escapes him; your flavor is intoxicating, all-consuming.

He wants to drown in your arousal.

You startle when Jinwoo hoists your other leg around his waist, hooking his elbows under your knees to support your weight. He then prods his engorged tip along your entrance, smearing himself with your juices. You instinctively begin to buck your hips, and a small, involuntary whimper passes your lips. Although you were still sensitive in the aftermath of your climax, the absence of the gladiator’s fingers had you aching to be filled again.

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” Jinwoo murmurs, “I’m going to give you exactly what you need.”

No sooner had the words left his mouth than he began easing his cock into you, panting and grunting in your ear with his jaw clenched tight. The stretch burns, but only momentarily, and it isn’t long before you’re mewling and moaning his name. Once he bottoms out, Jinwoo drops his head to your shoulder and presses his hips against yours. He holds himself still, allowing you time to adjust to his size.

After a pause, the gladiator kisses your shoulder and pulls back his head, looking you straight in the eyes.

“I won’t be holding anything back from here on, darling. If it reaches a point where it becomes too much for you, I want you to say the word ‘dagger,’ and I’ll end this. Understood?”

You nod and press your forehead to his, casting the die.

With your assent, Jinwoo ruts into you with unmatched vigor. He fucks just as he fights, hard and unrelenting, as if his very life hangs in the balance. Yet even in his brutality, he worships you with each drag of cock along your fluttering walls. Your tits bounce under the force of his thrusts, enticing Jinwoo to take one of your nipples in his mouth. He suckles at the tender little nub until it stiffens into a peak before biting down on it, sending sparks of pleasure tingling throughout your entire body.

Your breath catches in your throat, and your legs tense up around the gladiator’s waist, drawing him deeper into you. The ridges of his cock shape you, creating a delectable friction that builds and builds with every push and pull of his length. Jinwoo’s grip on your ass turns bruising, the rhythmic movement of his hips faltering into staccato bursts as he reaches his zenith. An obscene groan sounds at the back of his throat when your cunt spasms and squeezes impossibly tight around him, careening the gladiator over the edge.

He completely immerses himself in your pussy, painting your walls with thick spurts of cum. You follow in his stead, wailing loudly as your own orgasm overtakes you. For several minutes, the room is enveloped in silence save for the catching of breath and the wet sounds of kissing. Once he feels your walls relax around him, Jinwoo slides out of you. You wince as his seed spills down your inner thighs, and you struggle to stand on your own two feet as you’re lowered to the ground.

Ever the gentleman, the gladiator holds you steady, one large palm lingering on the bruises that litter your lower back while the other sinks its fingers into the globe of your ass. He chuckles when you bat at his arm half-heartedly.

“Are you alright? I wasn’t too rough on you, was I?”

You shake your head tiredly, a fond smile gracing your lips. Unbelievable, this man.

“Jinwoo, you were incredible.”

His eyes widen in a rare show of vulnerability.

“I’ve never felt this way before,” you continue, “You’ve been so good to me, so attentive… I loved it.”

Jinwoo pecks your forehead. He was so proud of you, his strong, brave girl.

“Good, because I’m nowhere near finished with you, love. Now, be a good girl and spread those pretty legs for me so I can devour that dripping little cunt.”

⋆༺𓆩⚔️𓆪༻⋆ Tag list: @heyimkana @xxeclipze @princeizuku @kweenkatsuki-main @cocomanga @mydearestbeloved @minh907 @forbidden-sunlight @brillantradiance @crxscnt @katie5000

[diabotsis]

Ghetsis is strong.

It's subtle-- rather he is subtle, much like his malice had been in the era before Plasma's first downfall.

It hides itself well. Purposeful movements hidden under robes and dark fabrics, allowing others to take care of physical matters for him... Never let them know what you have up your sleeve.

That strength showed itself once during the rise of Neo-Plasma. A massive machine put together by fine engineers for a project Colress was heading. In the end, while impressive by anyone else's standards, it hadn't been up to Ghetsis'.

So for that, it had to pay.

(Like anything else that did not meet Ghetsis' standards, although no one quite knew the extent of that, yet.)

He'd heeded his summons for the demonstration aloof as ever, perhaps trying to come across vaguely agreeable for the team that worked so hard for him.

The engineers prattled on about this and that. Colress mentioned something about that or this.

When the machine was finally turned on, oppressive waves were emitted from it. It unsettled the body on such a large scale as it was. Within seconds, a table of Pokeballs (some empty and some not) whistled and creaked, before popping open with such force that their hinges broke and the clips that held them closed cracked off.

The energy from within, more noticeable in the Pokeballs that had been inhabited, crackled outward in short violent flashes before finally dissipating.

Ghetsis had been pleased. Because of that, the team working on the machine were allowed to be pleased, as well.

The machine was turned off and the test was repeated with a new selection of Pokeballs of all types. The terrible unsettling thrum of the machine returned and this time, it took longer for its power to wield any results.

The popping of the Pokeballs came at a slower rate, less violent. No big deal, right?

Ghetsis found himself watching the remaining, unaffected capsules with growing anticipation-- and rising annoyance.

Colress was prepared to cut his losses after 30 seconds, but Ghetsis barked at him to continue. The terrible oppressive thrum remained.

The team that worked on the machine were clearly growing antsy with it, some rubbing their heads during the onset of a terrible headache.

A few more of the Pokeballs popped open weakly and then all that remained were two Ultra Balls.

Ghetsis had had enough. With a suddenness that startled the others in the room (who'd never seen Ghetsis' rage personally, but perhaps had intuition enough to understand that it was a frightening thing) he approached the table with the Pokeballs and grabbed one of the remaining things. In his grasp, the seam between the top and bottom halves splintered and the thing finally broke apart. He dropped it back down heavily. The final Pokeball, he picked up and chose not to crush. Instead, after a weighty few seconds, he spun around and whipped the thing into the reinforced wall by the door. It was close enough to the gaggle of engineers that it startled them, but the sudden ferocity over such a seemingly-mundane issue could've done that either way.

The Ultra Ball hit the wall and exploded. There'd been a Purrloin in there, once.

These things were meant to be thrown, abused over years of use. Carefully designed to be one of the ultimate Pokemon-capturing devices.

And it'd burst into sparks and parts in an instant.

Ghetsis didn't leave any time to bask in that implication before he was marching right for that damned machine and, with a starkly-flat expression, yanking the plugs and wires right out of it to finally shut it down. Some wires had weaker connections than others to the base structure. He tore the weak ones out as mercilessly as when he finally got his hand on one of the larger connecting cables, fastened to the machine with a drilled-on plate. When he grabbed that one and yanked, he snarled, and the rubber-coated collection of wires snapped right off their connection point.

The cable hit the ground with a thud. The bolt-fastened plug in the machine was now grotesquely marred, copper wiring sticking out unevenly and uselessly.

"Don't let me be disappointed again."

He'd said, somehow just as loud as the following silence.

Then he left.

[inseparableduo]

"I hope you don't mind but, I'm burrowing your Pornhub account."

"Didn't have one but, why?"

"I got banned on my account."

"..... How?" He was just going to skip over the obvious questions 'since when did you make an account'

"Me and your boyfriend thought it would be funny to put jump scares in porn."

"This is what I get for leaving you two alone."

[quartzhearted]

great tree moon, year xx.

[ SECOND CORRESPONDENCE W. KINGDOM OF BRODIA. ]

Hi, honey,

It's been a little bit since my last letter---and let me tell you, there sure have been some new things here at the monastery. I swear it wasn't that long since I last talked to you, but maybe it has been? Time's a hell of a thing, ain't it.

A handful of moons ago, it was almost like some kind of mass exodus; a bunch of people disappeared, then came back after some time passed. Apparently it's a normal thing, but... it's really strange? I remember seeing something-or-other around the monastery asking for participants, I think... I don't know. It's all a little hazy. Apparently I could have gone, but there was too much to do and I decided against it. Lots of people came back with real bad sunburns.

I've got a pal, Lambert---he's the guy that consensually punched me, remember him?---and he'd gone off to wherever it was. He came back a completely different person. I'm talking new look, new attitude, new lease on life. I really wonder what happened to him over there, but I haven't had the chance to ask him yet. Baby, if you met Lambert, I know the two of you would catch on like a wildfire. He's fantastic!

Speaking of pals, I've made a few more since I last talked to you. One of my favorites is this guy named Matthias---I mean, guy's like an alternate me! He's huge, got short, orange hair, axe guy, and he's a mean fighter. When we first met, we did it the warrior's way. Ended in a tie, and that's while he had a problem with his leg! He's a lot more deadpan-looking than Lambert is, but he's his own brand of feisty. I hope I get to talk to him more; I think we've got some things in common.

There's a new wind blowing at the monastery right about now, and lots of people are getting involved. Heading out on missions, picking up odd jobs, or getting hired for real jobs, and that's just a few things off the top of my head. Hell, I wanted to see what all the fuss was about, so I picked up a job. It was... well, there'll be some instant portraits in here. You can figure it out from those. Damn near gave Diamant a heart attack.

I hope my birthday wasn't too quiet. I assume it'd have turned into a day of mourning, given how things went with Alexand... but I'd much rather people drink and be merry like they always did. I was finally able to take Alcryst out to drink, and Diamant took me out to drink. And that's not even mentioning all of the neat gifts I got; this dragon squirt Nils gave me a dragon warrior charm! And Lambert gave me a sword. A really nice sword! I think I'll hang the charm off of it... but then it might break. So what should I do? You were always good about practical customization, so do you have any ideas?

A girl I've never seen before gave me a stone for my birthday. It was pyrite, so she has to be from Brodia, right? Because why else would she give something like that to me...?

Also, Lapis said something interesting to me when she gave me her present. Something about being newly-included in people that are worried about my health and somesuch. Very weird.

That's probably enough yapping from me for one letter. Like I mentioned, I've put in some instant portraits again---me in uniform, me working at my other job, Diamant is there in one of them, and a few random ones of people I've met. Being here has really helped me talk to people my age and people not my age. It's a real blessing.

I think about you every morning, afternoon, and night, my dearest. Even if you still don't believe this is real... that's all right with me. All I worry about is if you're healthy and happy. Hopefully Diamant and Alcryst have been writing you as well, but if they haven't, I swear that I've never seen them shining brighter or living healthier. They're doing just fine, and so am I.

Write me soon, sapphire. Even if it's just one word, it's one word from my loveliest gemstone.

Signed,

Morion, Professor of Axe, Sword, and Authority at the Officers Academy

[cassianappreciationweek]

Announcing Cassian Week 2025!

GIF by sweet-cider

Join us in celebrating our favorite bat boy from July 20 through 26, 2025!

Welcome to Cassian Appreciation Week 2025! Feel free to participate in any way you can, from headcanons, fanart, moodboards, fics, drabbles, playlists…. no matter how big or small, anything celebrating Cassian is welcome! 

Please tag @cassianappreciationweek and use the tag #CassianWeek2025 so we can see all your lovely posts!

And if you plan to post on Instagram, make sure to follow us and collab with us on the post!

This year’s prompts are as follows:

Day One: Traditions ⚔︎ Between his family, his people, and his mate, Cassian has established many traditions across the series. How do you see him celebrating them — or even starting new ones?

Day Two: Shield ⚔︎ Cassian has served as a shield both on and off the battlefield for those he cares about. How do you see him embodying that title?

Day Three: Atonement ⚔︎ Right, wrong, or indifferent, Cassian carries guilt for many things in his life. How does he show his remorse to the people closest to him?

Day Four: Lover ⚔︎ Cassian has had many opportunities for love across Prythian — who do you ship him with? Nesta? Azriel? Eris? Lucien? Any and all ships are welcome!

Day Five: Monsters ⚔︎ Cassian has fought monsters both inside and out — how do you see him handling monsters both past and present?

Day Six: Birthday ⚔︎ Although we don’t know Cassian’s official birthday, we know how much Fire Sign Energy he gives off. How do you see Cassian celebrating his birthday and channeling his inner Leo?

Day Seven: Free Day ⚔︎ Any topic of your choosing!

Thank you to @talkfantasytome, @c-e-d-dreamer, @moodymelanist, @dustjacketmusings, @melphss, @whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk, @kale-theteaqueen, @podemechamardek, @perseusannabeth, @unhealthyfanobsession, @jsmelodies, and @jellybeanjellyfishblog for helping to plan this event!

We can't wait to see what you create!

[grandlinedreams]

|| Here is where all one-shots, drabbles, headcanons and otherwise pertaining to Archeron sibling!reader and Azriel will be found. Posts themselves are not titled but links will be for clarity sake, as well as linked in suggested reading order/chronological order. Other non-AS!reader and Azriel content will be linked in a separate post.

|| Key: ⚔ [action], 🌧 [angst], 🧸[comfort/fluff], ♨️[suggestive/smut]

[Starflight ㅡ Azriel takes you on night time flight when you can't sleep. | 🌧🧸]

[Fighting Chance ㅡ determined to learn how to defend yourself, you didn't think you'd get the chance quite so soon. |⚔ 🌧🧸]

[Your Hand In Mine ㅡ Azriel isn't sure why you like his hands so much. But then again, he likes yours too. | 🌧🧸]

[Supernova ㅡ Trying to get a handle on your powers doesn't go quite as expected, and Azriel realizes you're not as okay as you'd like to be. | 🌧🧸]

[Cataclysm ㅡ You're not quite sure when Azriel became your safe space. | 🌧🧸]

[Dazzling Light ㅡ You put all the stars to shame, and Azriel's more than happy to prove it if you'll let him. | 🌧🧸♨️]

[Galaxy ㅡ you want anything and everything with Azriel. | 🧸]

[Starburst ㅡ you and Azriel welcome your firstborn into the world. | 🧸]

[Late Night ㅡ you and Azriel are slowly adjusting to parenthood. | 🧸]

[Scorch ㅡ Azriel would do anything to keep your daughter safe. | 🌧🧸]

[Early Morning ㅡ Azriel enjoys a rare morning where it's just the two of you. | ♨️🧸]

[Two ㅡ Aria's convinced she's right about becoming a big sister. | 🧸]

[Perfect ㅡ as you prepare welcome two new additions to your little family, Azriel is terrified he's going to lose you. | 🌧🧸]

[Growing Pains ㅡ Aria has a crush, and Azriel's struggling to come to terms with the fact she isn't a baby anymore. | 🧸]

[Shadows — River is more like Azriel than he thought. | 🧸]

[In Flight — Azriel teaches your children how to fly. | 🧸]

[Peaches — Late night snack. | 🧸]

[hisvelvetfur]

⚔︎ ║ 𝐻 𝐼 𝑆 𝑉 𝐸 𝐿 𝑉 𝐸 𝑇 𝐹 𝑈 𝑅 ║ ⚔︎

𝖺 𝗌 𝗄 𝗆 𝖾 ❦ 𝖬 𝖣 𝖭 𝖨 ║ 2 9 ❦ 𝗌 𝗁 𝖾 / 𝗁 𝖾 𝗋

✧ — 𝑊𝑒𝑙𝑐𝑜𝑚𝑒 𝑡𝑜 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘𝑠 𝑜𝑓 𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝑉𝐸𝐿𝑉𝐸𝑇 𝐹𝑈𝑅! — ✧

⚠︎ 𝑊 𝐴 𝑅 𝑁 𝐼 𝑁 𝐺 ⚠︎ — 𝖳𝖧𝖤𝖲𝖤 𝖶𝖮𝖱𝖪𝖲 𝖬𝖨𝖦𝖧𝖳 𝖢𝖮𝖭𝖳𝖠𝖨𝖭 𝖤𝖷𝖯𝖫𝖨𝖢𝖨𝖳 𝖬𝖠𝖳𝖤𝖱𝖨𝖠𝖫 𝖭𝖮𝖳 𝖠𝖣𝖵𝖨𝖲𝖤𝖣 𝖥𝖮𝖱 𝖠𝖭𝖸𝖮𝖭𝖤 𝖴𝖭𝖣𝖤𝖱 𝖳𝖧𝖤 𝖠𝖦𝖤 𝖮𝖥 𝟣𝟪

⇩ 𝑁 𝐸 𝑊 𝑈 𝑃 𝐷 𝐴 𝑇 𝐸 ⇩ — 6 / 2 0 D A D D Y ‘ S L I T T L E S T A R R I D E R

✄ �� contains suggestive material

☢︎ ⸻ contains explicit material

☣︎ ⸻ contains heavy explicit material

𝖳 𝖧 𝖨 𝖲 𝖬 𝖠 𝖲 𝖳 𝖤 𝖱 𝖫 𝖨 𝖲 𝖳 𝖢 𝖮 𝖭 𝖳 𝖠 𝖨 𝖭 𝖲

➺ drabbles

i couldn’t touch him

➺ poems

the beast ✄

the devil’s gun ☢︎

➺ headcanons

shadow’s hands ☢︎

shadow’s turnons ☢︎

➺ weekly shorts

shadow’s motorcycle ✄

my little slut ☣︎

all eyes on me ☣︎

sound of angels ☣︎

“do you wanna see the west with me?” ✄

our summer solstice

➺ oneshots

imprisoned ☣︎

ride me like a pharaoh ☣︎

i’d rather be with you than any human on earth

daddy’s little star rider ☣︎

caliente (upcoming) 7/08 ☣︎

[numenoria]

⚔The River Warrior⚔

Ratings: None

Word Count: 930~ (Just a brief drabble/ficlet)

Warnings: Mentions of death and grief, brief mentions of the supernatural, non-rom intimacy, brief mentions of war.

Genre: AU, OC POV, Grief/Mourning

Summary: Myain (Pronounced My-ain (like ai in aim)) is an intuitive and spiritually gifted member of a small river tribe. They catch sight of Boromir’s boat along its journey to Gondor.

A/N: Myain is genderless, but you can imagine them as any gender you would like. Oc reference here. 🏵️

While out foraging with three of my young kin, we caught sight of a beautiful ivory boat floating in the river. It wasn’t unusual for lost and damaged boats to float this way, but this one was different. It had the make of a boat unfamiliar to me. “Stay here”, I instructed my younger cousins. I left my basket of herbs and berries with them, and ventured from the fertile greenery and carved my own path towards the bank. Among the tall reeds, I could see the boat had no captain, at least one not visible. I stood on my toes in the damp soil, but I could not see over the edges of the boat. “I’m going further, keep watch!” I said to my kin as I looked back and gave them a confident smile. As I wade into the water, I felt excitement in my heart. “What would I find among this boat? Is there food? Maybe treasures?” I thought to myself. Although I was a skilled swimmer and found it easy to stay afloat, I sensed a slight unease as my anticipation grew. As I waded closer, the unique craftsmanship became more apparent. "This vessel was not made by human hands," I thought to myself. I continued wading until it became necessary to swim.

The closer I swam, the heavier my heart felt. I sat still in the water a few moments about 10 feet from the boat. I noticed the boat radiated a soft airy glow, almost aura-like. The weight in my heart transitioned into a sense of foreboding. I was gifted with this special sight, and I knew this was a sign. I swam closer until I could reach for the side of the boat. On the floor of the vessel was a man. I could tell he was not just any man, but a warrior. “Oh no, I was right!” I gasped to myself, he was dead. Three arrows pierced his broad torso. Arrows I recognized all too well, the same arrows that took my parents years past. I pulled myself onto the boat gently so as to not disturb the departed. It was evident that he had been placed there with great love and respect.

I reached over slowly and traced my hand along his rugged but noble face. “Whoever you were, you fought valiantly, my friend.” My gaze fell upon the sword resting in his hands, a grand sword it was. Observing his shield, I thought, “You must be a protector by nature”. I looked towards his horn, broken in two. “Ah, and a rallying figure as well. You’ve had your share of war and adventure. Rest now.” As I continued to study the warrior, I caught sight of the symbols on his clothing, “A man of Gondor? I haven’t seen your kind in ages.” I whispered as if he could hear me. Questions began to race through my mind: Did he have a lover who prayed for his victory and a passionate reunion? Did he have parents longing for his safe return? Did he leave behind hopeful children or siblings who thought the world of him?

As the boat flowed slowly I heard the voice of my cousins calling out to me “Hurry up it’s almost night Myain”. “I’ll be just a moment” I called back. I couldn’t leave just yet not without doing this one thing. It was customary in our culture to wish the departed well along their journey into the afterlife. I didn’t know this man but I felt compelled to express my sorrow. I brushed my hand across his sandy colored hair and placed a light kiss upon his cheek. “May the forces of nature be gentle to your vessel and may this journey lay your soul at peace.” I exhaled and looked towards the lavender shaded sky. A slight breeze picked up and I felt the brush of it on my left side mostly towards my face. Perhaps that was his way of saying thank you. I turned my head from his body and climbed from the boat. I swam without turning back.

When I reached the bank my cousins surrounded me. “What did you see Myian?”, the youngest one asked. They started to swarm me with questions until I stopped them “Sshhh, there is nothing in the boat for us. Only a man whose family will miss him dearly. Stay quiet for a moment until his boat leaves our sight.” They did as I instructed and whispered words of well wishes to his spirit and vessel. They understood, as I did, the grief his family would endure. As we took a moment of reflection, I could feel warm tears gently streaming down my cheeks. I allowed them to flow freely, much like the river that carried this brave warrior back home. Although the sight of this man left me in sorrow, I also felt hope. These times have grown dark, but if there are more as brave as this warrior, may they guide us towards brighter days again. We must continue to take up arms, push forward, and extend our compassion to one another. I felt a bittersweet optimism as I glanced up at the twilight sky one final time.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs are greatly appreciated. You can view more of my writing here ✨

I hope your day is lovely. Whatever is bringing you hardship will soon pass. 🩷 🫶🏾

-Davi ☽︎♡︎☾︎

•Credit(s) : Dividers via @edensrose 🥀

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