diadokh & lael [lore + nsfw]

lael blackblood was born into the redvale clan some years ago. his exact age was never actually recorded, but he believes himself to be somewhere around the age of 20 - 23. his race is of both orc and laegrim, a small-framed agile race of forest dwelling elves. unbeknownst to his only living father, impregnating a male laegrim with 'foreign' seed means certain death for the carrying mate. a gut-wrenching planned suicide that left lael's dad heartbroken, forcing him to raise his newborn son on his own.

as lael grew older, he was outcasted for being considerably smaller and weaker than others his age. while he wasn't shunned from the community entirely, he was still deemed unsuitable to carry the name of the redvale, leaving him with 'lael' being his one and only given name. for the most part, his role in the clan consisted of concocting potions, elixirs, and medicines for sick or wounded berserks. though kept secret to most, he's discovered not only potions of healing, love, luck and vitality, but also an elixir of eternal life.

while little lael is too light to be suited in steel armor or wield a war axe, he was exceptionally fast and stealthy on his feet... and damn good with a blade. his slim frame and long legs made for an easy [and quiet] sneak attack, whether for food or for protection. it is said that he once severed the head of a man that was four times his size with only his handmade dagger.

-diad needed to be sure his boo could stay protected, so he had this suit of light armor fitted and forged just for him <3-

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𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒𓈒⠀𓂃⠀⠀˖⠀𓇬⠀˖⠀⠀𓂃⠀𓈒

diadokh blackblood was once the hardened war chief of the blackblood clan. his strong, ancient bloodlines made for him to be an excellent warrior, hunter and an overall asset to his people. even at the age of 49, he was still in his prime; completely and utterly fearless with a life consisting of drinking, hunting, feasting, fighting and fucking... just the way he liked it.

diad's goal as war chief wasn't that of constant war and bloodshed, despite his ancestor's notoriously violent track record. he loved to fight but despised everything about the idea of war itself... but for his grounds and many others' surrounding, peaceful existence wasn't (and still isn't) much of an option and must always be handled accordingly.

even in modern days, way of life within the stronghold is much the same as it was so long ago. such as in the event that a virgin would come of consenting age, it was determined that diadokh, (or whichever war chief was in power during that time) be the first to stretch him open; and to drink from him afterwards with the hope of gaining even a fraction of his strength and virility. for over 100 years this practice has been considered to be one of, if not the highest honor one can earn upon entering manhood within the clan. while not required, it is an experience most men do not miss the opportunity to take. such customs are labeled 'barbaric' to most of the modern world, but it's common practice to the blackblood. whether or not the practice is actually effective has yet to be scientifically proven, but the results were always consistent.

-some extras because he is daddy as fuck, even when he angggyyyy😡😤👹-

it all began on a cold october morning when diadokh made his first round to check on the bear and rabbit traps that surrounded his stronghold. however, this time the strong scent of blood and something unseasonably sweet lured him to one of the further rabbit traps to the north of the hold.

something that definitely wasn't a rabbit.

beyond a small thicket of weeds and thistle branches sat a tiny body, a boy, imprisoned at the ankle. blood streamed through the metal teeth of diad's trap; the snow beneath him was stained heavily in dark red. the boy shivered and huddled into a ball as diadokh's massive frame approached to assess the situation, positive the man would surely end him then and there for trespassing though his land... but he didn't.

his fear subsided after watching the battle-worn stranger break the steel trap with his bare hands rather than crush his throat him with them, or worse. though... had this been his plan, he was too exhausted to put up much of a fight anyways. he tiredly agreed to allow diad to carry him back to his stronghold with the promise of safety, rest, warmth and food for the time being. unexpected, but already more hospitality than anyone at his hold would've ever shown him. the boy explained how he'd gotten turned around after wandering off too far and too late on his hunt for black thorned vine, an important ingredient in his secret elixir; one that grows native to the area in and around the blackblood hold.

this little buttercups and berries scented shivering green lump of flesh would eventually come to be known as lael blackblood. his own medicines and salves he'd kept in his pack helped nourish him, along with the company of a very concerned and adamant diadokh right by his side every moment as he healed.

taking a life was ungodly easy. fun at times, even. but saving a life was something he'd never been compelled to do. such a life that he might've first considered rather insignificant suddenly didn't feel so damned insignificant anymore. after his recovery, diad invited lael to stay for good, to live and thrive within the community with him, and to carry his name. here, he was respected and cherished, for he was unmatched in his skill and knowledge in medicine and healing. lael too had quickly become quite an important asset among his people.

-this was the exact moment lael knew he needed to make diad those cool-ass earrings lolol-

...though as for every war chief, retirement comes at the age of 50, despite his physical capability. after another year of power, diadokh stepped away from his position, moving he and lael into a large hollowed-out enchanted cypress tree. a quiet life on the outskirts of town with someone to call his own was nothing shy of a dream come true.

diad and lael have yet to fully delve into one another, but their relationship roots stronger by the day. the sexual tension between the two must be released carefully, as their significant difference in size poses potential injury to lael.. and the chance of him becoming pregnant leaves diadokh with the lingering fear that he could succumb to the same fate as all other laegrim men, despite him holding only partial blood. thus, lael remains the only man his age within the hold to have never felt his own lover from within.

diad's hand is almost as big as his chest.. he must be very gentle with his baby🥺

-imagine snuggling a pole i- I MEAN CHEST~~ that big every night......... my god, man. ×͜× -