A side-blog for all of Darthsuki's writing from The Dragon Prince show now streaming on Netflix, including headcanons, drabbles and other reader-centric content for the series. Quick Navigation
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See while I genuinely love the Dragon Prince series and how itâs developing the plot and characters over the last several seasons, I want nothing more as a creator than to shake Aaravos like a dog with a squeaky toy to see if some depth and details come flying out
I am foaming at the mouth to learn more about the worldbuilding, let me learn more about these cultures and languages AND MAGIC PHYSIOLOGY PLEASE I AM BEGGING YOU
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same faq anon. i think the links broken cuz its not working. :/
Unfortunately the link works, tumblr mobile is just a very fickle beast for what it lets you click through (pages vs posts vs searches, etc). The only other thing I can think to do is post the rules themselves and link to that post--Iâll probably do that if it becomes an issue with others.
In the meantime however, feel free to send your request in regardless! Iâm quite laid-back as a writer. Perhaps to put it short:
Iâll write any character
Iâll write fluff, angst, smut or whatnot (though no explicit content with characters under the age of 18)
I write headcanons, drabbles and fics
The only themes or topics I wonât write include abuse, rape, torture, murder, suicide or violence (if anything irks me Iâll let you know, YKINMK)
Requests are always open, but that doesnât guarantee Iâll get to them in any specific timeline since I fill them for free
You and anyone else is always welcome to ask me questions if something doesnât make sense--I promise Iâll answer or help you as best I can without judgement c:
heyy, quick question. i wanted to possibly request something but i wanted to check your faq first? im on mobile though and i cant find it, so i was wondering if there's a way you could make your faq accessible to mobile users. sorry if this is a bother!
Itâs certainly not a bother! Anything to make things more accessible to mobile users is important to me c:
Iâve added a link to the blog description, but hereâs the link as well to check out. Let me know if you have any issues accessing it at all!
thought: aaravos probably just as big of a voice kink as we do. my proof? iâve yet to see him be written in spicy content without specifically wanting to Hear his lover
That right there is ineffableproof of this manâs deepest desires to hear his loverâs most intimate moments because you canât tell me for a damn moment that, after however many damn years heâs been locked in Bad Naughty Elf confinement, he doesnât at least have a slight Thing(tm) now for hearing his lover moan
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That Aaravos/Reader/Runaan fic... primo stuff, absolutely perfect, and I'd love for a continuation of it.
Thank you! :DÂ
Iâve gotten a surprising amount of positive feedback on it--Iâm also quite interested in continuing it in one way or another, for sure the AU/ship in general because thereâs quite a lot to play with, from a writerâs perspective. A lot of personalities and relationships to develop, not to mention a TON of room for headcanons and personal worldbuilding :3c
i bet aaravos is the type to go out of his way to get up close and person with his love interest so he can watch their pupils expand when they see him (bc he's the type of nerd who loves to know they like him, i'd bet on it)
One of the things that Aaravos takes the most delight in when interacting with another person, particularly his love interests, is being able to see their smallest tells. Thereâs only so much that mere words can say and so very many things that they can hide--nonverbal cues are a layer of communication all in themselves and he is quite a master at reading them, so he likes to be as physically close as possible.
The subtle shift of weight, the parting of lips, the expanding of pupils or even the softest gasp of breath when he towers over you, his voice a tantalizing song of power and intrigue. He likes to see everything and wants it all to himself, possessive in a way only one can be after being trapped in a mirror for a countless number of years and isolated from another person.
Lies are hard to tell when someone is so close, close enough to read every twitch and feel every shift of motion. Itâs harder still when his hands are on your waist and his eyes are on you, taking in every detail with a curiosity some people might even find overbearing or smothering--but Aaravos is simply curious, simply likes to know in word and gesture what you feel for him.
Heâs versed in lies, well enough that to him, seeing all the ways you love him is equally important as hearing it out loud, Itâs the one thing that people cannot truly hide from sight if one is observant enough,
S.O. keeps aaravosâ mirror in their bedroom. Theyâre simultaneously roommates and in a long distance relationship. Summer romcom blockbuster and also very sad
That really is simultaneously the cutest and saddest thing Iâve heard for Aaravos and the reader how dare you make me feel such conflicting emotions at once.
Imagine him being able to great you every morning and bid you sweet dreams every night, awake until after you fall asleep and before you even open your eyes to the morning sun. Heâs even taken to moving the mirror on his end closer to his reading desk, if only so he can occupy himself while still being able to keep an eye on you--when youâre in the room, of course.
He listens quite avidly to anything you care to tell him and, honestly, you begin to wonder if that is one of the few entertainments heâs afforded outside of his seemingly endless array of books. Anything youâre willing to tell him, heâs interested in--the daily happenings of your personal life, the goings-on of the kingdoms, the change in even the weather. The world for him is stagnant, unchanging and lifeless on his side of the mirror, so itâs a delight to hear just about anything you care to tell him on your side.
Every night before bed, youâve taken to little gestures as substitute forms for genuine physical gestures. You hand against his, your foreheads tilted and touching just so, the cold glass a constant barrier from the warmth the two of you desperately yearn to feel from one another--him moreso than you, if only because he can barely remember what it feels like to touch someone else at all. The gestures, while bittersweet, are meaningful in their own way, and ones youâve taken quite a bit of joy in for what they are.
consider.... aaravos as a sub... his whole how may i serve you thing... heâs probably absolutely touch starved after his isolation..
How may I serve you?
Those words are powerful, a leash, a reign in which you can pull in whatever direction you desire. Theyâre certainly not without consequence of misuse, of course, as they slip from the lips of an eons-old mage who could probably end your life with but a blink if he so chose.
But no.
He kneels before you, head resting against one of your knees and his eyes half-lidded in something that runs deeper than simple lust. Itâs heavy, so thick that it makes the air hard to breathe (or maybe thatâs simply the awe you feel in looking at him like this). You card the fingers of one hand carefully through Aaravosâ long, silvery hair, idly wondering if itâs comparable to silk or satin in how soft it feels against your skin.
Thereâs so many layers to the moment, each deserving to be observed and enjoyed to the fullest. The way Aaravos feels against your hand, the way he presses, nuzzles needily against your knee or even how you can feel the heat of his arousal jutting perversely so against your shin with his legs folded beneath him on either side.
The elf himself seems at a loss for words but certainly not for sounds. He purrs in delight with each scratch of your fingers against his scalp, and shivers every time your nails gently catch at the base of his horns.
He moans when you inch your leg forward, pressing it against his arousal.
He doesnât ask for anything, but his desires are powerful even if unspoken. His body glimmers and glows like the night sky with every passing moment, leaving you in equal parts awed and proud of the power you hold over him, the power he seems so willing to give to you (just you) so he can be vulnerable in this soft, intimate moment.
It would be so easy to guide Aaravosâ face forward, press his soft lips and sinful expression between your legs with hands gripped hard and unyielding over his hornsâyou doubt not even a single word would need to leave your mouth for him to know exactly what to do. It would be so easy to push your leg forward and command him to grind his hips against it, make him reach the edge by nothing more than the privilege to use a piece of your body like an animal might.
It would be so easy to do a lot of things, and Aaravos is plenty wanting, needing to do every last one of them for you.
I have a predicament I've never experienced before, my name is pretty much the same as Runaan (Runa) ! so I'm having fun thinking about how he'd react to a human having such a similar name to his. But it's also a bit of, kinda sorta jealousy like, " that's my name > : / " (and also being in a good good poly with runaan and aaravos, poor aaravos lmao)
âRunaaravos,â you try the word on your tongue, carefully sliding the whetstone up the blade of a curved short sword. âRuna...vos?â
You feel Runaanâs curiosity before he even speaks, gaze soft from across the space of your chairs.
âWhat word are you trying to conjure?â
You stare down the blade for a moment before answering him, feeling pleased at the lack of scratches against the metal.
âI was just thinking that, if we put our names together, it would sound pretty cool--Runa, Runaan, Aaravos?â
âI see.âÂ
Your partnerâs tone is neither disinterested or annoyed. He moves his hands with a quickness over the blade over his knees, experience and practice distinct in the way he almost doesnât even have to look down to make sure heâs getting the right angle or pressure.
â....what possibilities have you come up with then?â
âOh, just a few,â you say, dropping the sword from your eyes so you can spare a glance to him, then over to Aaravos who is merely sitting in the corner reading through one of his books. âThereâs Runavos, then Runaavos--two aâs in the middle--and then the outlier Aaraanaaan.â
âThatâs,â Runaan blinked, quirking one of his brows. âThatâs a lot of aâs.â
âI happen to be rather fond of that option,â Aaravos says from his spot, peeking mischievously over the cover of a tome you canât read the title of.Â
âWhatâs the point of tossing names together anyway?âÂ
The startouch elf and you shrug at the same moment, both of you looking at Runaan.
âItâs just a touch of fun,â you say after a moment. âItâs fun to merge words together, so why not names?â
Runaan seems to consider this a moment, then finally he gestures slightly with a tilt of his head in as much of an understanding as heâll get on it.
âAlright then,â he says, glancing up between you and Aaravos. âHow about Aararuna?â
A beat of silence passes before Aaravos is the one to speak, tone firm and words unrestrained.
âThat one doesnât make any sense,â he says, though taking delight in the roll of Runaanâs eyes. âToo many râs and it certainly doesnât roll off the tongue as well. I like Runaâs versions better.â
âYouâre not being fair,â the other man argues. âYou just favor Runa in general.â
âOf course; both of us do.â
Aaravos and Runaan share a smile as you, between them, can only feel a bit of heat in your cheeks.
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Yes hello I would love for you to make a Aaravos/human(female?)/Runaan please! Your work is amazing and I have such a big thing for both elves and it would be awesome if you wrote something for them!đ
How could I not take a stab at such a wonderful poly opportunity?
Honestly, I think half the fun was just trying to think up of an AU/canon-divergence that would make sense to toss all three of them together romantically, especially with how little we know of elven culture and Aaravosâ background.
...between you and me, I like to headcanon that the reader is a descendant of Elarion or something, which means they hold a lot of untouched power that could, say, free Aaravos and Runaan from their imprisonments ;3c
Summary:Â You saved Aaravos and Runaan both from their respective imprisonments without even knowing how you could do such a thing. You're the castle-keeper of Katolis, not a mage and certainly nobody powerful--and yet you free them both, leading to Runaan taking you and Aaravos to his village in Xadia to try and patch together some semblance of a normal life.
This is just one glance into your lives together.
Itâs been a year.
Twelve months, fifty-two weeks or even three hundred and sixty-five days, depending on the way you choose to divide up the time. Itâs darted through your perception as quickly as a frightened doe, but it has also limped by as slowly as it takes for the new moon to rise full.
Despite all of that time spent in practice and observation, you still donât know how to sharpen a blade quite as good as even one of the villageâs youngest initiates.
Itâs not as if you donât understand the concept or technique, as youâve seen the knights caring for their weapons as far back as when you were castle-keeper of Katolis, but thereâs simply something in the execution that always leaves you stumped.
So here you are, sitting on the steps outside the humble cottage youâve called home in the last year, willing for even a single god above to let you do this right.
You feel your brows furrow as you stare down at the small dagger in your hand, a whetstone in the other. Youâve been trying to sharpen the damn thing for almost an hour, but all youâve seem to manage is just to put unseemly scratches against the edge you really hope can be buffed out.
Itâs aggravating enough that you donât realize thereâs someone in front of you until their shadow falls over your hands. Youâre about to look up just as a hand reaches forward and grabs the wrist of the hand holding the whetstone.
âYou need to remember to keep the angle smaller.â
The grip is as gentle as the words, voice familiar enough that you simply turn back to the job literally at hand and allow the help from the man, Runaan, as he takes a seat beside you.
âI donât know how youâre able to do this so quickly,â you sigh. âI seem to damage blades more than sharpen them, no matter how many times Iâm shown.â
You hear the elven man let out a short, disbelieving huff.
âAnd have you asked for any help?â Itâs hard not to hear a thread of tension, the same tone of voice heâll sometimes get when speaking to the young initiates heâs training. âI recall Merith and Rydell having offered.â
You donât answer him right away. The manâs hands carefully put yours into a new position, both of his hands over yours, delicately angling the stone against the blade in a position you assume is the correct oneâhe is right, you were holding the blade at a vastly larger angle.
âIâŚâ the words feel like stones in your throat, as heavy and rough as the one against your palm. ââŚI donât want them to think of me as useless at everything I do around here.â
Sharpening blades. Organizing books. Hunting game. They arenât exactly skills you learned in your upbringing as a castle-keeper.
You let Runaan tug your handâand thus the whetstoneâcarefully across the blade in a smooth, slow motion. He does it a second time and then a third, finally letting you try to do it yourself.
By the sound of the hum that leaves him or the fact that his hands remain on yours, you must not have the motion mirrored quite well just yet.
But at least he doesnât berate your fear.
The moonshadow elves are not as hostile towards you as they once were, when you were new in their village and stood precariously on the border of âhostageâ or âguestââperhaps you had been both at the same time, until ultimately they decided to see you as the one exception to an unspoken, yet powerful Xadian rule.
Maybe it had something to do with you freeing Runaan from imprisonment. Maybe itâs because you were accompanied by a powerful startouch elf mage, someone who you also freed in the same night as Runaan though similar means of magic or power that you still donât understand yourself.
Maybe a lot of things.
âŚItâs a long story.
âYou wonât learn how to do this right until you ask for help,â Runaan says, dragging you out of your thoughts. âIt takes years for a moonshadow elf to learn these thingsâyouâve only been here for one.â
âBut Iâm a human.â
Runaan is quiet for a few moments, giving away a lot more than words ever can.
âYou still have hands,â he argues, grip getting a little tighter around your wrists. âAnd that extra finger has to be good for something.â
Heâs learning to grow past his colored stereotypes for humans as much as the rest of his village, but at least heâs honestâthereâs an effort, much in the same way that you continue to learn about them.
You donât have the chance to say something witty in return before both you and Runaan are interrupted by a new voice booming across the air, familiar and strong and pulling both of your attentions away from the lost cause of a dagger.
âI thought that I would find both of you together.â
Itâs not hard to guess who it isâthe voice alone is as unique as the rest of Aaravos, a startouch elf settled in a vastly moonshadow village. Thereâs no hiding the difference of his eyes, his horns or the starlike sparkle of both his form and clothes.
Thereâs a smile on his lips as he approaches the two of you.
âWhat mischief have you gotten to now?â Runaan asks, not a single beat of silence missed from the moment his eyes lay on the other elf.
Aaravosâ expression drops into a pout, lips pursed and brows tilted, but itâs not that hard to see that itâs simply a playful, but fake expression.
âMischief?â he asks, raising a hand to his chest as if wounded. âRunaan, you think so little of me. I have many years of experience and knowledge to my life, the ability to weave the power of the stars to my desire and you accuse me of but childish pranks?â
He steps closer to the two of you and sits down on your opposite side, the three of you taking up all of the space on one of the steps leading up to the house you and Aaravos have called home since arriving at the moonshadow village.
Runaan merely stares at the other elf, eyes narrowed in caution.
âDid you set something on fire?â
Aaravos merely laughs, making you look at him with all of the same caution, but a plethora more of curiosity, if only from the glimmer of playfulness in his eyes as he smiles even wider.
âNo,â the older elf says softly, his eyes glancing off to the side. âBut I did teach some of the children how to glamor rocks as poisonous insects.â
As if on queue, both you and Runaan turn to look where Aaravosâ eyes are, only to see a small group of children run past screaming in delight and every single one of them with stones clutched in their hands.
âAaravos,â Runaan sounds exasperated already. âYou canât just do that, it will mess up their training and cause a mess that-â
You drop the blade and whetstone so you can reach a now-free hand to grab his, stopping the words of argument before they can begin.
âItâs not going to hurt anyone.â
You feel a smile on your lips and watch as Runaan looks at you, takes in your words, but looks back to Aaravos with caution still nipping at his thoughts.
Somewhere in the exchange, Aaravos takes your other hand in his, leaving the three of you in a silence that takes a long time to break. It would be hard to describe your relationship to the two elves to anyoneâitâs hard enough to label it yourself. Youâd freed Aaravos from his prison and saved Runaan from death, leaving both of the elves with a sense of debt to you.
Debt that became companionship.
A year is a long time, after all, and it can change a lot of things. Perceptions, understanding, relationships. It can break connections and forge trust in the same blow and, honestly, itâs left the three of you unsure where you stand in lifeâit feels almost as if each of you had somehow escaped death itself and were trying to find yourselves in a world that had been prepared to go on without you.
Maybe love is a good word to describe it. Forged in debt and cemented by time, made strong only by shared little moments, comfort and companionship. It might be the right word, but itâs not one youâre ready to use just yet, and it feels like Runaan and Aaravos feel much the same.
You feel both of their grips on your hand tighten, just a little bit.
âI doubt theyâll even be able to do the spell properly,â you say gently, glancing from one man to the other.
âDonât underestimate them,â Aaravos muses softly, the words spoken with almost a vague sense of pride. âFor being so young they are exceptionally talented; you shouldnât be so hard on them, Runaan.â
You watch as Aaravosâ smile curls into something wicked, on the teasing side of mocking, as if the two of them have had a similar conversation in the past that youâve not been privy to.
Runaan merely makes a noise of exasperation, seeing his defeat in the conversation.
âFine,â he mumbles, eventually pinching the bridge of his nose. âI can tell when Iâm outnumbered. At least promise me you wonât teach them how to light something aflame.â
Thereâs a tone in his voice, as if itâs something spoken with previous experience.
Aaravos takes in a breath and slowly leans his body against your shoulder; he is warm and gentle in both voice and movement. Runaan eventually does the same, squishing you gently between the two elves as they lean against you, your hands held in a gesture not one of you will label.
âOh, I donât need to teach them a spell for that,â thereâs a cryptic, toying note in Aaravosâ words. âA piece of flint and steel is less troublesome.â
Before Runaan can respond, thereâs a familiar commotion coming from down the path. Screams and shouts fill the air before you catch the sight of a group of childrenâthe same as beforeâcome barreling down they way. Ranging from small child to young teen they run, almost clamoring over one another, all holding fistfuls of candy in their hands.
Theyâre chased by a man, who stops to catch his breath in front of you, Runaan and Aaravos. He pants and leans forward, hands on his knees and face quickly looking up to all three of you.
âRunaan, I have no idea how it happened,â he starts, rubbing a hand over his face. âThere is a nest of scorpions in my shop.â
All three of you are silent for a few seconds, but you can feel two very powerful emotions flowing from either side of you: one is annoyance, but the other is immense, smug-colored pride
âVery talented children indeed,â is all Aaravos cares to say, expression mischievous as ever.
Me, reading some of the tags and reblog comments on my stuff: You know maybe I should change my icon or something because Iâm giving people heart attacks left and right thinking this is TDP official writing some thirsty reader content
as someone with two a's in my name im pro aaranaan
also they're what got me into tdp bc the world flashed aaravos in front of me like oh whats this? a hottie? aren't u interested? look further!! what's this? another hottie?? don't you want to watch now? :)
I mean in all honesty it seems like 50% of fans were those who watched the first season when it came out, and the other 50% took one look at Aaravos and decided then and there that they like the show and they are valid in their elf thirst
...But as for the ship name, Iâm fond of Runavos or Runaavos, if only because thatâs easier for me to tag without getting it messed up, especially on mobile, but all Aaranaan ship-namers are just as welcome here ;3c
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I see all of you being thirsty for just Aaravos but let me raise you something: poly reader, Aaravos and Viren, or poly reader, Viren and Harrow.
Basically I'm your local queer poly writer and I'm always down for that good shit--and also this is a friendly reminder I'm open for headcanon and drabble requests of nearly anyone ya like, as long as you've given my faq a quick skim ;3c