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tarnishedtwill · 1 month ago

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Nevarran Locations & Landmarks

Nevarra City– This is the capital of Nevarra. Home to the Grand Necropolis among other things. This is also primarily where most festivals and balls are held, as well as where the Palace of King Markus is located. Nevarra City is also home to the residence of the Anaxas house, and location of the Duchess Games. [Though the current ruler of Cumberland hails from this family: Duke Sandral Anaxas.] It is also home to the Castrum Draconis as well as the Minanter River which carves through it.

Castrum Draconis– Vast Botanical Gardens with hundreds of statues depicting Royalty and Heroes of legend [Powerful Generals, Dragon Hunters etc.] Along the roadways leading up to the Castrum are stately columns of black marble amidst which statues of Kings & Queens of Nevarras past are on prominent display. In Autumn there is a festival held [ see Ancestral Pageant in my Nevarran Culture Post] where many great families hire performers to recreate famous moments in the statues lives by lantern light. Often draping the statues themselves with their house colors. Notably the Pentaghasts and Van Markhams tend to compete for the best show each year.

Blackthorne Manor– The estate was gifted to a family who then took on it’s name by Queen Vanneska the Fourth. [codex: ‘A Tale of the Blackthornes’] Twenty Generations have walked its halls, [meaning if a generation is estimated at 25-30 years, I would potentially date both the manner and Vanneska to 500-600 years ago, placing somewhere around 3:50 Towers to 4:50 Black.] That said, the codex this is from is annotated by Emmrich stating this must have been written in better days– that no one knows what horrible fate befell the Blackthornes. Noting rumors of suspicious deaths, untended crypts and salacious affairs. [This means that my date estimates could be to young and the manor could be even older.] At some point since its abandonment, it became the base for the Necromancer Johanna Hezenkoss.

Grand Necropolis– A large mausoleum sometimes said to be at the heart of Nevarra city while other sources say it's on the outskirts of the city. This is the main base of operation for all Mortalitasi, including the Mourn Watch. There are open-air gardens, crypts, and mausolieums. The structure is as large as a city in its own right, some royal burials being described as palaces of their own. [Lead concept artist Matt Rhodes remarked while designing the structure that, at least in early concepts, his inspiration was an inverted Tower of Babel. The Mortalitassi, instead of seeking knowledge from the stars, they seek it from their dead.] It is also of note that the geography of the Necropolis shifts quite a bit. Chambers are known to shift and change sporadically. [Note the Memorial Gardens being lost until Rook discovers they had moved to the Vault of the Beloved & also the lack of panic over the Basalt Hypogeum at first because it was thought they moved within the Necropolis, not that they were stolen.] Though Emmrich does say during the 'Walking the Graves' questline that it is unlikely for a section to move while people are inside of it, impling it's more common for less traversed chambers to shift. Unless I am mistaken it appears the cause of this is shift is largely unknown, if not gently implied that it's something to disuade tomb raiding. [I cannot remember which dialogue it is said in, I will search, but I am pretty sure looting deterents are mentioned at one point.] While some areas like the gardens are open to the public for days of mourning, many of the lower wings are heavily restricted even among the order.

Basalt Hypogeum– A vast section of the Necropolis that was stolen and transported to Blackthorne Manor to facilitate Johanna Hezenkoss’ experiments. Many Watchers were curious of its disappearance as it was sudden, though the Necropolis does tend to shift often. Myrna noted it was a ‘matter of strange obliquity’. Once Johanna is defeated Myrna notes a great magic will be required to attempt to transport and restore the wing to its place in the Necopolis. Design wise we know this is one of the more impressive and old sactums within the Necropolis, the basalt being shipped from Rivain in 4:57 Black. We also know the name of the Stonemason who crafted its impressive halls: Othmar Gerdebrand.

Cascades– One of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’

Chamber of the Unforged– This is a hexagonal chamber with several small treasure caches on each spoke. Notably this is where Rook faces the Formless One when it possessed the body of a taxidermied high dragon. It is considered one of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’. The hallway leading to this chamber seems to hold several important memorials, as statues, paintings and gated off rooms of gold and urns line each side. [Knowing that the Tanhausen family commissioned the high dragon to be taxidermied it could possibly be a wing for their quite prominent family. However we do know that the ‘last’ crypt of the Tanhausen’s is in the Memorial Gardens.]

Charnel Bridge– Mentioned briefly in banter between Bellara and Emmrich for good places to learn more about undead. It’s briefly mentioned that the ‘nightmare fog’ has overwhelmed it.

Charnel Pyramid– A section of the Necropolis that is ‘disagreeably cursed.’ [Codex entry: From Myrna, on Rediscovering the Gardens] Myrna recommended that the Pyramid should go through a lustration before the next Equinox. [Lustration: a policy that removes public officials or beings from positions of power associated with a repressive regime; this makes me wonder if it is similar to the situation with undead during the War of Banners.] The area surrounding the pyramid must also be quite sizeable as it was debated to be used as a backup location for public days of mourning in the event the location of the Memorial Gardens was not rediscovered in time.

Cobalt Ossuary– A resting place for skulls within the Necropolis. This is the location of the spiritual disturbance in the short story ‘A Flame Eternal’ in which a skull began to hiss and scream from it’s niche. [We know that some royal families and high nobility have full Palaces as their resting places. I would assume an Ossuary with skulls in niches more than likely is for lower nobility, or even commoners if they are able to be inturned in the necropolis, based oh how unextravagant in sound in comparison. But this is just a guess.]

Crescent Fane– Another chamber of burial, described vaguely as having sunken black walls, with bowls of silver flames [I am not sure if this is a descriptor for veilfire or something else entirely.] around each coffin. [‘A Flame Eternal’] The only known person interred here is a woman named Mathilde, whose husband’s skull became restless until they were once again joined together. [Fane, also means a temple or shrine, so it is possible this is a temporary resting place for the recently dead, maybe to prepare them or just until they are moved to a more final resting place, as Emmrich mentions Mathilde passed ‘in her sleep, last midnight.’]

Hollow Belfry– This seems to be a common area, or main spoke. Several hallways branch off into the other chambers of the Necropolis. The center has a lowered portion where Myrna and Vorgoth tend to be stationed, alerting watchers to hauntings & providing the guild market. It also has an upper atrium. Above the chamber sets a massive bell called the Sunken Star. It is responsible for keeping malign spirits from entering certain chambers of the Necropolis (but probably not 100% of them). A ritual is need to ring the bell, so more than likely it happens intermittently through the year as the wards weaken. The direct quote when pertaining to the Sunken Star’s ability: “��in fact any malicious spirit that hears the tolling of the bell will be banished back into the Fade.”

The Memorial Gardens– This is where public days of mourning are held, while we don’t know it’s original location we do know that this chamber went missing before appearing at the vault of the Beloved [Which, in my opinion is in some way the Necropolis foreshadowing Emmrich & Rook getting together (conditional) since this seems to be Emmrich’s favourite spot to wander, and well Vault of the Beloved… anyways I digress.] The Garden is a cemetery that spralls outward amongst an array of flowers and statues. This includes the Tableau of the Dead, created from real skeletons in 7:20 Storm. As well as the large statuary monument ‘Love in Life and Death’ which displays two skeletons kissing among other posed figures, overgrown with a flower called shrouds kiss. This is a statue dedicated to the enduring passion of those bound by love. We know that the Rites of Rememberance can be performed by Watchers here as well as a meditative puzzle involving the cleansing bells. In addition to that, the only known/named people to be buried here are Rupert & Elannora Volkarin [Emmrich’s parents], and the last tomb of the Tanhanhausen line.

The Path of Glory– Just off to the Side of the Memorial gardens. It holds rooms featuring boardgames, grave mist, and such along with it’s skeletons. This is alo where Emmrich prepares an intimate dinner date for Rook if Romanced. [Trying to confirm]

The Path of Sighs– One of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’.

Shrouded Halls– One of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’.

Spectral Court– One of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’.

Unspoken Valley- Mentioned briefly in banter between Bellara and Emmrich for good places to learn more about Spirits. It’s briefly mentioned that the ‘nightmare fog’ has overwhelmed it.

Upper Mortuary- in banter with Neve, Emmrich mentions he left several of his books in his apartment at the Necropolis. When questioned if most Mourn Watchers live on the Necropolis grounds, he simply replies that the ‘Upper Mortuary is quite pleasant.’ this to me signifies that he is not the only one, and/or this could be one of many more residential areas within the Necropolis. I would assume if this is an area for high up faculty, students and trainees may be housed elsewhere.

Vault of the Beloved– One of the ‘Lost Watcher’s Wings’. This is the new resting place of the Memorial Gardens.

Weeping Vale– We simply do not know much about what the Weeping Vale is, but dialogue between Emmrich and Rook (conditional to Mourn Watch) tells us that recently there was a problem solved by the Mourn Watch to stop wandering cenotaphs from appearing. [A cenotaph is a memorial or monument to someone whose body is buried elsewhere. This is typically done to honor those who died in war, but not always.]

Flora of the Necropolis– I cannot find much on plants related to Nevarra specifically, but some are mentioned directly: variegated weeping widower, shrouds kiss, & unknown willows capable of making their own noises [Codex: New Fauna].

Hunter Fell– A small city west of the capital. This is where King Caspar Pentaghast is from, as well as the location of the tea house that Charter calls a meeting of spies to discuss the movements and motivations of Solas. [Tevinter Nights: The Dread Wolf Take You] The only other thing to really note is that when Tylus Van Markham seized the throne from King Nestor Pentaghast [5:37 Exhalted], several surviving Pentaghasts fled to Hunter Fell. Eventually in 9:42 Dragon, the Inquisiton was called in to investigate Duke Tythas Pentaghst, ruler of Hunter Fell. He commanded a network of spies and warriors called the ‘Five Belles of Hunter Fell’ suspected of being tied to the Venatori.

Cumberland– One of the largest cities in Thedas, it sits South of Nevarra city, where the Imperial highway forks and portside to the Waking Sea. Not only does it function as a major trading port but also as a seat of immense knowledge. Home to the College of Magi, which is thought to bear the brightest mages and scholars throughout Thedas. It is also where many tournaments of combat, and archery are held. The current ruler is Duke Sandral Anaxas.

College of Magi– The college of Magi sits at the center of the city the Sun Dome’s golden exterior and massive spires making the city itself seem gilded and brilliant. The palace itself was gifted to the Chantry by a Nevarran Duchess. Keeping with the Nevvarran tradition of statues, the College of Magi is no different, the entryway featuring busts of ever Grand Enchanter from the last 600 years since this is the place from which they are chosen by a council of First Enchanters. The College of Magi is thought to bear the brightest mages and scholars throughout Thedas, some of which then move on to recruitment with the Mortalitasi.

Additional notes about historical events at the College of Magi [& some Dorian and Ashur lore]: In 9:38 following the Kirkwall Rebellion, the Chantry disbands meetings of the College of Enchanters [Based on context and what I am able to find, it seems the College of Enchaters is the name of the council of First Enchanters.], as well as any unsanctioned mage gatherings. This meant the dissolving of mage fraternities. This is also around the time that former Warden Fiona is elevated to the position of Grand Enchanter. [Wynne blames this as the reason the conclave was disbanded.] Grand Enchanter Fiona was quick to begin campaigning for independence, leading a vote among the College of Enchanters to secede from the Chantry entirely. Though the vote did not pass, the existence of the vote was enough for the Templar order to call for the dissolution of the College of Enchanters. More political unrest insues leading to Divine Justinia II calling for a meeting of the College of Enchanters, now disbanded, to the White Spire instead of their traditional seat in Cumberland. This lead to Grand Enchanter Fiona once again pleading for secession, causing High Seeker Lambert to declare the College of Enchanters treasonous. After a daring rescue of some of the enchanters, Fiona once again led a vote on succession in Cumberland. This time since too few first enchanters remained, some having died in capture, the fraternities casted their votes. This lead ultimately to the dissolution of the circles and the movement towards mage freedom. The factions mentioned above include:

Aequitarians– This is the most dominant of the fraternities in the College of Magi. Their ideology is moderate, and thus popular. It is that mages must use their abilities ethically, and responsibly within society regardless of Chantry law. They believe mages have the power to help people, and should be doing so. Historically leaders of this group include Wynne & Rhys.

Isolationists– While less popular, this smaller faction simply believes mages should separate from the Chantry, and society as a whole. Creating their own systems and culture without any scrutiny towards the practice of magic or danger towards those without.

Libertarians– This group desires the Circle to become self governed and separate rom the chantry. While on the surface the Libertarians seek to do this peacefully, a subgroup of resolutionists within the faction have no issue usng violent means to achieve this. This group has been led historically by Fiona & Adrian.

Loyalists– As the name implies this group is the most devout, following the word of the Chantry. They are often viewed negatively by other mages for being apologists to the oppression faced by mages.

Lucrosians– the smallest fraternity amongst the College of Magi, these mages simply align themselves with the priority of gaining wealth, and political influence over any social cause.

In Veilguard we receive a conversation between Dorian Pavus and Ashur [who may or may not be Divine Aequitas II] in which Dorian comments, ‘Speaking of brash rebels, remember Cumberland? Spring of ‘38?’ to which Ashur replies ‘I wish I didn’t.’ This has had me so curious as to why they were present, were they part of the fraternities that helped vote against the circles since fraternities voted in the place of first enchanters? Or were they simply there as support to keep templars from intervening the College of Enchanters meeting. Either way. Super interesting additional lore on Dorian & Ashur. We know Dorian was part of the Lucerni [a faction dedicated to redeeming and restoring Tevinter] but that is a group exclusive to the Magistirium and not one of the fraternities of the College of Magi. In fact it is more than likely closer tied to the Shadow Dragons. [If you want a less summarized version of 9:38 Dragon, most of the information comes from Dragon Age: Asunder.]

Diamond Lass– in the ‘Dragon’s Den’ district of Cumberland, this is a luxury inn. Drinks are said to be served with crystal goblets alongside runes said to keep the beverage cold.

‘Dragon’s Den’– This is a walled off sector of town, adjacent to the more wealthy quarters of the city. It functions as a Dwarven trading hub and due to his most of the buildings are described to have distinctly Dwarven Architecture.

Forsythia Estate– This is the ancestral residence of the noble house Forsythia

Thank you all for the kind words on my first lore post. In this next section I tried to break down several key locations. If there are ones you'd like to see that I did not explore please let me know! If there is anything I missed or got incorrect, I am open to corrections! Additionally I would love any additional descriptions or information about the sections of the Necropolis, information is scarce, so any additional notes are welcomed. For more posts on this topic, they will be marked on my page under the tag Nevarran lore.

I hope for this to be a resource for fic writers but also knowledge for my fellow lore nerds. More will be posted soon as feel sections become complete.

Update Edits: More insight on the shifting chambers of the Necropolis, and additional lore on the Basalt Hypogeum. Info on the Sunken Star.

Thank you guys for the feedback <3

#nevarra #nevarran lore #thedas #thedosian lore #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #emmrich volkarin #emmrook #emmrich x rook #veilguard #mortalitasi #mourn watch #college of Magi

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mmogurl · 4 months ago

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Dragonseed Chapter 1 : First Night

18+ | 6.4k | Daemon Targaryen X Female Dragonseed Reader | dangerous, sex starved, raunchy Daemon | virgin reader, first time sex, first night / prima noctae, big breast reader, daemon is a boob man in this, non con, non consensual, P in V, much groping, lots of typical Daemon cussing, starts out rough but reader enjoys it in the end, I just woke up with this in my head and needed to get it out.

Daemon has not been satisfied with his wife Rhaenyra lately. Frustrated and sexually deprived, he goes searching in the village at the base of the Dragonmont for a woman that might catch his eye. That's when he comes upon you, a beautiful, young dragonseed, ripe for the taking, whether you like it or not. I came up with the idea for this after reading page 914 in Fire and Blood. In the show, they recruit Valyrian blooded bastards to ride the unclaimed dragons from King’s Landing, but in the book there is actually a fishing village at the base of the island where Dragonstone is located. The men of House Targaryen were known to seek pleasure among the commonfolk there quite often, claiming their ‘first night’ rights and sowing ‘dragonseeds.��

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 On AO3

Rhaenyra has been an insufferable cunt as of late. First she had wallowed in the death of her son, Lucerys, which he understood to an extent. They were at war though and Daemon could not excuse her absence at council. There simply was no time for mourning when the Iron Throne was at stake.

When Rhaenyra finally returned to the painted table, she was in shambles, a scared, frail shadow of the strong Targaryen woman he’d known and cared for. It had taken all he had to hold back the grimace that fought its way out at the sight of her tear stained cheeks. They were of royal blood, Valyrian blood, and she should be ashamed to show such weakness openly, especially as the future queen.

She spoke of retribution for her fallen boy, demanding the life of the Hightower bitch’s second mongrel son, Aemond. Daemon had offered to fly to King’s Landing right away to avenge his wife, but none would take any part in his plan. So he did as he often did, connived in the shadows, plotting murder so that a one-eyed Targaryen princeling might die to replace the son Rhaenyra had lost.

But, it seemed nothing was ever good enough for the so-called Realm’s Delight. No act of loyalty, nor obeisance, nor love, nor retribution would ever amount to anything in his wife’s eyes. She did not seem to trust a word he said lately, viewing him always with thinly veiled scrutiny and scorning him from her bed every night. Perhaps she had only been interested in using him to solidify her claim as queen after all. The irony was not lost on him considering how badly he’d wanted the throne in the past. It all left Daemon feeling restless, his blood running hot with the need to satisfy his carnal urges. Admittedly, there were not many women within the confines of the castle, save for the servants, who were not especially comely. So, he ventured forth to the village below the Dragonmont, where farmers and fishermen lived around the now thriving port. There he walked the streets, drank in the tavern among the commonfolk, hoping to chance upon a suitable woman. Any fair of face with a willing cunt would satisfy his needs, but he was hoping to find someone of note, a beauty worth his seed.

So far, he has found nothing but mediocrity and it does nothing to stiffen his cock.

As he exits the tavern already deep in his cups, given the position of the sun it’s sometime past mid-day, and there is a celebration underway. A flutist is playing a lively tune as men and women alike dance together in the square. His eyes dart around, taking the scene in slowly considering his relatively inebriated state, until he catches a flash of blue.

And that is when he sees you. You are ravishing in light blue silk, a crown of yellow wildflowers upon your silvery-gold head of hair. Daemon finds himself completely enamored as he takes in your fetching features; the big blue eyes, your proud nose, those luscious lips, and the full swell of your breast has him reeling.

Daemon finds you a sight for sore eyes, a vision of purity and class coupled most gladly with the bosom of a well coveted whore. From the look of it, you are the bride, clutching arms with some young pup who is likely to be your new husband.

It was well known to Daemon that the towns below the mount were seeded with Valyrian blood. Going back two hundred years when Aenar Targaryen first arrived with his dragons, when the house began to practice the tradition of ‘First Night.’ Whereas a lord or king has the privilege over the smallfolk, to bed any bride first on their wedding night. As a result, it was not uncommon to see pale hair mixed in among the common, many having been bred within the Targaryen line for generations.

Daemon has never claimed such a right before, but he is inclined to command it at the sight of you. A wicked smirk begins to work it’s way up his lips as he approaches. He can’t believe his good fortune, that such a shining flower of a maiden was waiting for him, so close by, and that he just happened to stumble upon you at just the right moment to claim you.

As the King-Consort to be closes the distance, many begin to notice his presence with a look of awe and excitement on their faces. For on Dragonstone, the Targaryens were considered closer to the gods than other folk, and were esteemed as such. Brides that were chosen were considered blessed and envied by all. Many of these women were taken care of well by their benefactors, being endowed with luxurious gifts of jewelry, fine silks, and even bequeathed titles for land.

The children born of dragonseed were celebrated on Dragonstone and it is clear to Daemon by the fine silk of your wedding gown that you have been attended well by your Valyrian patron, whoever it may be.

He walks purposefully towards your merry, dancing form and takes hold of your arm to still your movement. When you look up at him, he cannot help but feel disappointed when your face drops, a look of despair crossing your face as you intrinsically know what he desires of you. Daemon had hoped you’d be pleased to attract his attention, that you’d consider it a godsend as most would. It is merely a minor blow to his ego that won’t stop him from taking your maidenhead.

Silence hangs in the air and before words can even be exchanged, an older woman with dark gray hair advances forth to him. She claims to be your mother and apologizes for your insolence.

‘The blood runs too strong in her, m’lord,’ she grovels with deference, bowing her head with every word.

Good he thinks to himself I like them feisty. Daemon grins, glaring sideways at the young man next to you. He would be considered handsome by most standards, but he is green, just a silly boy without disposition to even protect his alluring little wife. He intends to ruin you for any other fellow tonight, so not even your juvenile husband will ever be able to satisfy you again.

He snickers with satisfaction as your mother offers to escort the pair of you to a suitable location where he might take up his rights. Daemon can’t help but soak up every curve of your face and body like a predator eying up his next meal as she speaks, but you look on the verge of tears, ready to break at the thought of being torn away from your silly little wedding festivities.

“Might I freshen up first, My Prince,” you say, your civility barely held in tact through grit teeth.

“King,” he reminds you, furling his brow. This girl will be nothing but trouble. It will be best to break her swiftly. He then shakes his head non-nonchalantly. “And there is no need. You are already quite pristine and lovely in your wedding gown. I will take my claim now.”

You fluster, your cheeks growing impossibly red with embarrassment at not just the mention of his intent, but your own indignity as well. “My King,” you acknowledge his correction. “Allow us to ready the chambers for a man of your caliber. My marital bed is far too simple…” you continue prattling on. He isn’t really listening anymore though, instead focusing on the plump of your lower lip and how it might feel wrapped around his cock.

He also can’t help but notice how you sound much more proper than your mother, than most commonfolk really, and wonders if your Valyrian contributor has paid for your tutelage as well. You strike him as someone who has been overindulged in your life, treated as a lady of distinction. It would certainly explain your bratty attitude.

“I am not against the amenities of the commonfolk,” he offers indifferently. “As long as there is a clean surface, it will do.” It’s not like he hadn’t fucked in some of the filthiest brothels on the Street of Silk back in King’s Landing. At least there weren’t many rats in Dragonstone.

‘Oi, aell take ye to me own dwelling, m’lord,’ your mother is spouting now. ‘It aes clean, Ae wash the linens m’self.’

“Nonsense.” A man with well-kept clothes is now stepping forward and Daemon believes he recognizes him as the innkeep. He offers his finest suite for the union of Daemon and his freshly wed dragonseed maiden.

Gods, it’s good to be king.

Daemon can’t help but chuckle smugly at the look of absolute dread on your face. You think you’re so special, too important to be fucked by a king apparently. He was going to enjoy showing you otherwise.

His grip has not left your upper arm and it now tightens as he nods to the innkeep, accepting the proposition for a room. The man leads the way and Daemon follows, dragging you along with him and reveling in the way you peer back with sad lamb eyes at your newly minted husband. There is something so deliciously satisfying in tearing you away from that whelp of a lad, in taking what belongs to another simply because he can. It spoke to the primal side of him, the dragon within that would snatch up whatever it pleased without concern for morality.

He desires you now and he would soon have you whether you liked it or not. Rhaenyra had cowed him for far too long and now he’s going to reclaim his manhood, his brutal nature, by taking your bloody virtue on the head of his cock. For the bedroom was just as fierce as any battlefield and Daemon was a seasoned veteran of both arts.

Daemon’s stride is long and resolved as he jerks you closer to his side. You’re reluctant to be close to him, but finally heed the warning and match his pace as you both enter the tavern which also serves as the inn. Upstairs, the balding innkeeper opens the door and ushers Daemon into his freely provided chambers, with his unwilling maiden shuffling in beside him.

The room is quite nice for what it is. Accommodations for peasant folk were typically a mix of ramshackle furniture and blankets with patched holes in them, if the mattress had linens at all. This chamber is simple, but the furniture looks as though it were hand-crafted in town. The bed is very obviously carved by a skilled carpenter and topped with a red blanket as though it were actually a fine establishment.

“This will do nicely,” he nods to the innkeep. Even though Daemon knows he is not expected to offer compensation as an esteemed guest, he let’s you go from his grasp momentarily to fish a coin from his purse, and places it in the man’s hand. “My thanks,” Daemon offers plainly with a dismissive nod, declaring his desire to be left alone with his prize.

“My pleasure, My King,” the innkeeper says with an overzealous bow as he closes the door behind him, finally leaving Daemon alone with you.

You stand there looking like a stunned baby bird who has just fallen from the nest. Your hands are clasped together in front of your stomach as though that might defend you from his designs.

He smirks at you with a pointed laugh as he draws close. Daemon apprises you thoroughly, circling you like a beast as he takes in every sign of weakness, every swallow, every carefully withheld whimper.

“You know what will happen, girl?” he finally breaks the silence as he comes to a stop right behind you.

“Y-yes,” you answer unenthusiastically. The tremulous tone of your voice both excites and amuses him.

Daemon’s hands reach out to your waist then, finding the laces that hold your bodice tightly in place and he begins to untie them. You turn rapidly on your heels to face him, trying in vain to halt his advances. He can’t help but growl at your defiance as he tugs you against him, his grip like a biting jaw on your pliant body.

Grinning wickedly, he glares into your eyes, leaning in so closely that his forehead is against yours and his hot breath is in your face.

“I’m going to take you, little one,” his voice is filled with violence, his tone rough and dangerous. “You will give yourself readily or we can take the difficult path. But, I promise you would not like how brutish I can be. Especially considering how sore you will be once I take your maidenhood.”

Your expression contorts with hatred and insubordination as resignation tries to take root, but ultimately you refuse to budge. He has not broken your spirit yet, but he knows he soon will. Daemon hopes to avoid being truly cruel to you, that is unless you remind him of his fucking wife by being so gods damned obstinate. Then he might just be forced to take his impotence out on you.

“Or maybe…” he continues with a sardonic twitch of his brow. “Maybe since you’re behaving like such an ungrateful bitch, I’ll just fuck you hard and deep until I spill seed in your unspoiled little cunt. I might even keep you here all day, perhaps all night. I have not wet my cock for at least a moon’s length and I am wont to gorge myself in you.”

Your breath hitches at his menacing coercion and tears begin to well in your eyes. It doesn’t bother him, in fact he thinks you might look even more attractive when you’re crying. Most importantly, you nod subtly as you finally understand the truth of your situation, that he has conquered your rebuffs and brought you low before him. You should be much more compliant now.

Daemon presses a kiss against your cheek, relishing the taste of your fear and the way your body tenses in his arms. “Good girl,” he states in a calmer voice.

He swiftly turns you around again, his fingers moving deftly to work the laces of your corset free. You are sobbing quietly and even though he relishes the idea of making you submit, of seeing your eyes red and swollen as you take him to the hilt, it’s becoming tiresome to hear as he undresses you.

“Would you cease with all that incessant blubbering?” he chides you with palpable irritation. He pulls at your laces, then the fabric of the bodice, going back and forth to loosen it enough so he remove it from your body.

“I’m scared,” you peep. “That you will hurt me.” You’re reminding him of a bird once more, perhaps a little chick with no wings to fly, sniffling and pathetic as you accept your fate.

Daemon lets out an exasperated sigh. He would almost rather you be angry and spiteful than sniveling like this. He should have known to use a different tact, but he’s been out of practice for quite some time. He now sees with clarity that you’d be far more susceptible to seduction rather than brute force, but his anger with Rhaenyra had him on edge.

He places his hands on each of your shoulders and cranes his neck forward until his lips meet the spot below your right ear. You jump as he presses a gentle kiss against your skin, his fingers reaching over and caressing along your collarbone. He can feel you relax considerably with his shift in behavior and takes the opportunity to slide the sleeves of your dress down your arms.

“You need not be scared, little bird,” he whispers into your flesh as he leaves another kiss wet against the base of your neck. “I have bedded many a maiden in my time, and I assure you that I am a far more experienced and skillful lover than that untried boy you call husband.”

You swallow with difficulty and then your whole chest heaves upward as you let out a shaky breath. He is not sure if you’re still apprehensive about the pain involved in the act itself or if you dislike hearing him speak ill of your new spouse. It matters not, for Daemon knows he is best suited to tend to your needs on this day, and he will deliver you swiftly from your pain if you serve him well. He could also make it much worse than it has to be if you don’t.

But for the moment, you’re obliging him, not even resisting as he slips the sleeves of your dress off of your hands and they fall to your side. He groans at the pale skin bared to him, feverish at the thought of groping those large tits of yours without the restraint of any bindings.

“I know how best to alleviate your discomfort, my dear,” he continues, his breath tickling your skin. “I know how to hasten you to pleasure.” Daemon sucks teasingly at the lobe of your ear and delights as you shiver and goosebumps break out across the exposed flesh peering out from your low neckline. He is getting so eager now, craving the way you’ll squirm beneath him as he touches you, as he claims you.

He rocks the slackened bodice down over your waist, wiggling it from side to side until it clears your hips and the entire gown finally falls to the floor in a heap. You still don a sleeveless cloth chemise underneath that goes down past your knees, but the fabric is so thin that he can see the outline of your figure right through it.

Daemon feels the hairs on the back of his neck bristle as his cock bulges painfully against his breeches. He’d been so caught up in taming you, so fervent at the thought of plundering your shores, that he hadn’t even realized how much he was aching for you.

With a surge of fist and cord, his trousers are on the ground and he practically tears his braies off so he can press his throbbing length against you sooner. Being liberated from his smallclothes leaves his member free to prod the valley of your arse, and he yanks you back tightly against his chest with a grunt that makes you chirp. You are his sweet, helpless baby bird, ready to be devoured by the fox.

As though pulled by an invisible force, his hands are already snaking around to your front catching your breasts, one in each hand as he kneads them forcefully. You let out a strangled cry of distress as he tweaks your nipples firmly and Daemon’s eyes roll up at the supple, yet dense give of your breasts.

“By the old gods,” he rasps out, looking over her shoulder at the beautiful sight below of cleavage and ample bosom turning in his grip. “These are surely sacred treasures befitting a king.”

He has to feel you without the interference of meddling fabric, needs to see your breasts in all their splendor, to touch-taste-suck them until you cry out. A growl erupts through his nasal cavity and he abruptly yanks your shift down your shoulders, ripping the straps in the process of revealing your remarkable tits.

Seeing your exposed bosom, Daemon grinds his cock into your arse with arousal, his restraint faltering with the promise of you. He spins you towards him, walking backwards to the bed and drawing you by the hands with him. He glances up to see the uneasy expression on your face, the blush in your cheeks as you allow him to lead you. His cheekbones rise and his brow furrows slightly, regarding you with discernment and maybe a sense of pride as you walk bravely forward.

Daemon decides after brief consideration, that he likes you this way: vulnerable, yet courageous. The thought is fleeting as he hits the edge of the bed and sits down without hesitation, tugging you close until you are standing in the space between his parted thighs. Your tits are right in his face now, just where he wants them.

With an aggressive pull, he wrenches the shift from your body, laying you completely bare to him. He doesn’t even know where to begin, so much pale and youthful skin to take in that it makes him absolutely ravenous. Daemon’s hand reaches behind your back, holding you in place as he practically inhales your breast into his mouth. You writhe in his embrace, trying to back away from the intensity of his hungry maw to no avail as his strong arms keep you effortlessly in place.

He nips at the stiff peak, relishing the way you jump in response. Daemon’s hand slides downwards, cupping your round, tight ass with a squeeze. He leans back, taking in the view for a moment as he licks with the point of his tongue around your pale pink areola. He switches to the other beautifully pliant tit, tracing a line with his tongue across the valley of your breasts.

Daemon sucks hungrily at your nipple, palming the other with fanatical tenacity. He can feel your body wanting to withdraw, the way it pushes for more and pulls back at the same time, yet your feet remain firmly planted. He’d praise you for being so mannerly if his mouth weren’t full with your delicious tit at the moment.

He can feel his pulse pounding throughout his cock, standing erect between his legs and starving for any attention it can get from you. He relinquishes his grip on your breast, daring an attempt at getting you to relieve his torment as he clutches your hand and brings it down. Your hand retreats backwards, not wishing to participate, but Daemon is firm with you, guiding you to wrap your little bird wings around his engorged member.

Tepid, featherlight fingers graze against the sensitive skin of his too-fat-with-blood cockhead, and he lets loose a growl against the slope of your chest. “Fuck,” he hisses, sucking air through his teeth as you reluctantly touch him. At this point, his sexual deprivation paired with the immense lust he feels for you makes even your untrained pawing feel flawless in execution.

He’s quickly reaching the point of no return, his carnal urges so great that he knows he must have you soon. Daemon’s fingers lower to your tight little cunt, checking to see how ready you are for his impending intrusion. A knowing grin spreads across his cheeks as he feels the silken wet state of your folds.

“Mmm,” he pulls off of your nipple, peering up at you with violet eyes full of mischief. “Are you holding back how much you desire me, little bird? You naughty thing. What will your husband think?”

You flush red and while he was hoping to see indignation, he’s not displeased with the look of yearning present instead. Had he actually managed to ensnare you with the capable way he handled your body? Had he charmed you into his grasp when it seemed impossible you might actually enjoy yourself? Your silence is complicity as far as he is concerned.

Daemon smirks up at you deviously before switching back to your left breast, his tongue dancing across the tender nub as his fingers test and prod at your entrance. He doesn’t feel a solid membrane, but one that has already been teased on multiple occasions, likely coaxed from the efforts of the wanton little dragonseed herself. He could take her virtue with very little pain and she might even find pleasure in the act.

Dragging creamy nectar up from your heat, he holds your hood back, pressing his middle finger to your swollen pearl with a light, circular motion. You jolt into him, leaning forward as though your knees might buckle with even the slightest of coaxing from his touch.

He does not relent, continuing his attentions to both of your breathtaking breasts as he caresses the peak of your sex with practiced grace. You begin to whine, flinching your shoulders with every nip and suck of your tender nipples, your body becoming overly sensitive with his continued ministrations.

Daemon can feel the tension in your body rising and knows that you are ready for him. And not a moment too soon, he muses to himself, lest he lose his fucking mind with desperate need of you.

He stands up suddenly, gently walking you back a couple steps. He then picks you up into his arms with one fluid motion before depositing you with careful precision onto the bed. You look up at him with big eyes, dilated black with arousal as he climbs on top of you.

“You are a sight to behold, dear girl,” he says hoarsely, his voice heavy with desire. “I will not regret this joining and nor should you.” You look bewildered, a flurry of emotions all rolled into one, acutely aware and fuzzy at the same time.

For the first time, Daemon kisses you, and the feeling is like molten lava blazing through his heart and pooling in his gut. His cock is hard and threatening against your thighs, seeking entry with every jerk and twitch. His tongue sinks through your parted lips, dipping into the heat of your mouth, wanting to consume you whole.

He parts from your lips with an intake of breath, declaring gruffly, “You know that you belong to me now?”

With your quiet acceptance, Daemon positions his head at your core, pressing in just enough to fit snugly against your entrance. Leaning down once more, he cradles your back in his arms and presses another kiss to your lips. He needs to keep you distracted, his tongue dancing with yours, keeping you from dwelling too long on unavoidable pain. Gods knew, the feel of your passionate kiss was enough to divert his attention away from all meaningful thought besides the easing of your hurt.

Without warning, Daemon thrusts into you, breaking through your virtue as he holds you tightly. You cry out in startled agony as his length enters you, tears welling in the corners of your eyes at the sudden flash of pain. He holds position within you, soothing you with hushed whispers and gentle kisses through the worst of it.

As he thought, you are not upset for long, within moments already wiggling your hips around his swollen cock and hungry for more. He can’t help but grin with smug satisfaction at the way your body begs for more without speaking any words. Daemon will give you exactly what you crave. In fact, he loves how quickly you’ve become his little bird, his sweet harlot, forsaking your new husband for him in no more than a hand’s width of daylight.

He winces as he begins to move again; the way your cunt clings to his intruding cock for dear life is almost too much to bear. Daemon pulls back slightly to take you in and is not disappointed by the way your pretty lips are spread and panting out quick breaths of ecstasy. He had not lied to you, he’d certainly been with his fair share of maidens. None have come close to matching the beauty of your deliverance from chastity. You take to his girth with aplomb, to the act of love-making with a passionate, melodious abandon.

Daemon would watch your blissfully lurid expression, listen to your dulcet of sinful delectation, all day if he could. But, it’s not long before he can tell that your little cunny is going to give him trouble. If it hadn’t been so long since the last time he knew a pleasure better than his fucking hand, he might be able to deal with you. But, you are so fucking tight and he’s so wound up, that he opts to go out with a clash of smacking flesh. If he cannot make you peak this time, then he most certainly will on the next try, and he will most certainly take you again.

Your lilting moans drive him closer to the edge, pushing him faster than he’d like. Rearing up onto his knees, he clutches your hips tightly and spreads you across his lap. Daemon desperately tries to push you along to your climax, knowing it will be a race that he is likely to lose. He’s not expecting the intense response you give him or the way your hips buck as he coaxes your pearl to completion.

His eyes widen in disbelief, wincing as your pelvis seizes and you clamp down on him with a force so powerful it undoes him. “Fuccccking Hells!” he growls out sounding like a gruff animal as your walls milk his seed forth. Daemon’s member pulses violently, your muscles finally letting up only to begin rolling in waves across his length. “Gods fucking damn, girl!” he steadies himself against the bed, almost falling on top of you in the process.

His release lurches through his body, demanding and powerful as he erupts into you. He is faintly aware of the way your chanting with delight, muttering something incoherent while your small hands remain fastened to his back, holding onto him. The overwhelming rush finally passes and he is left feeling weak, breathless, but oh so fucking good.

Daemon wilts onto you, pressing a contented kiss against your lips. He’s not entirely surprised, but is still pleased when your hands find the back of his neck, deepening the kiss with vehemence. He feels the musculature of your inner lining contract upon his cock again and shakes his head as he parts from your lips.

“No. No more of that,” he gripes, still too sensitive to take that kind of abuse.

He recoils as he withdraws from you, unable to believe how big his cock looks, not fully hard, but still excessively fat considering. Daemon lies down beside you, wrapping his arm behind you and pulling you close.

You come willingly, cuddling into the crook of his arm as your hungry fingers roam about his jerkin.

And then it dawns on him, that in his impatience, he never even bothered to fully disrobe. He dutifully unfastens the clasps on his leather vest, displacing you for a moment as he tosses it aside and tears off his doublet.

“There,” he says with confidence. “Now you can have the full show.”

You laugh, a mirthful sound that makes his heart ache in a good way. Gods, he had really needed to get in a good plowing. He can feel all of his anger and tension melting away as he takes you back into his arms.

“So? Was it all bad?” he asks, fishing for compliments because he loves to hear them. He’d especially welcome them from a stubborn creature such as yourself.

Quietly, you shake your head, seeming at a loss for words. He could understand. A lot had happened in such a short amount of time. He’d essentially stolen you from the path you’d been traveling, plucked you up for himself without your say so. Daemon wouldn’t prod you to talk about it now that his appetites were sated, wouldn’t tease you about your husband now that he had claimed you fully.

He raises a brow as you speak unexpectedly, listening intently for your first real words since he’d imposed himself upon you.

“It was enjoyable,” you answer respectfully, your lusting eyes betraying your true feelings as your hands rove over his now bare chest, eager for more.

“Only enjoyable, little bird?” he decides to tease you a little bit, just for fun.

That mellifluous laugh returns, making him smile genuinely as he gazes upon you. Daemon strokes your back, relishing in the warm plushness of your skin as he settles into bed.

“Why do you keep calling me little bird?” she asks instead of padding his ego. “I am a dragon just as you… Am I not?”

His whole face lights up with a self-satisfied smirk. “Oh, are you a dragon now? I thought you were just a little bird.”

“I am a seed,” you contend with him, far more seriously than he expects you should. “I am of your line too.” You run your fingers into your disheveled hair, twirling cornsilk strands as evidence.

“Well, yes, but you are not quite a dragon. It’s true you have wings and the means to fly, but that does not make a dragon, my delicate little bird,” he cannot help but say it with a mocking tone, enjoying your reactions too much to let it go.

You dare a fearless smack at his chest, indignant and pouting. He would normally kill someone for laying hands on him in any manner of disrespect, but Daemon does not mind it from you in this moment.

“Perhaps, you do have some fire in you yet,” he taunts you with amusement. You look at him wide eyed as though he’s about to admit that you are a dragon just as he is. You make this too easy. He chuckles as he continues to rib you, “I’ll call you my firebird then. I think that suits you nicely.”

Daemon’s brow winks with humor as you take another swing at him. He holds your arms down to your sides as he pulls you on top of him. He let’s you go as your annoyance settles, regarding you fondly as he tucks loose tresses of silvery hair behind your ears.

“I hope you know that I’m going to come back for you again and again, my little firebird,” he utters in a lower tone, his voice taking on a more serious quality now.

You give him a twisted look of both gladness and remorse, your mind unable to decide whether this is a good or a bad thing.

“Do you care for your husband?” he asks earnestly, not pleased with the idea of another man laying hands on you. “I can conscript him to the queen’s army if you wish to free yourself from him. You need only ask.”

You look torn, but he can tell you’re considering his words carefully. “He is not a bad man as far as I know. The marriage was selected by my mother, my husband earns a living well enough to pay my way.”

It bothers Daemon to hear you call the man your husband, even if it’s true. He considers killing the man masquerading as your groom for you should undoubtedly belong entirely to him and no other.

“Paying your way will no longer be an issue. I will ensure that you are financially supported from this day forth, but I will not give you up,” he hears the words spilling from his mouth and feels like an old fool. He’d celebrated too many namedays to be spewing this lovesick shit? He couldn’t help it though. You stoked a fire inside of him that made him feel alive and vibrant, he needed to keep burning with you.

“I appreciate that,” you offer with a small, but hesitant smile. “I’m sure my mother will be thrilled. She has always tried to make sure I’m well looked after. It’s unfortunate you could not find me a day sooner. I’m not sure how to face him now,” she says with a trembling lip. “He will expect to bed me. I’m not sure if I’ll be able to. It would make me nothing but a whore.”

“Hush,” Daemon says disagreeably. “Don’t say such things.” He finds himself cradling your sweet head against his chest, hating how true your words are and that he is the one responsible for your situation. He must make it his own responsibility to free you from it then.

“I’ll pull you to castle staff then,” he offers, grasping at possible solutions. It would not be wise to tempt Rhaenyra’s wrath under her own roof, but it would be a means to separate you from your husband at least temporarily, until something more lasting could be devised. There were many positions that would keep you far from his wife’s vicinity as well, if she would even notice that he had taken a lover to begin with.

He might also simply murder the bastard and be done with it, but it might be nice to have you close by in Dragonstone too for opportunistic dalliances.

You begin to protest the idea of going to work at the castle, but he won’t hear any of it and interrupts you. “I will give you a choice then, in recompense for what I’ve taken from you. Will you stay with me, little firebird, or with your husband?” He peers at you with thoughtful bluish-red irises, waiting to hear your answer. He has already decided that he will abide by whatever ruling you make, at least for a time. If you wish to bed your husband as well as him, then that will be your prerogative.

“I do not wish to stay with my husband,” you say quicker than he anticipated.

“Well,” he practically gloats with a mischievous grin. “You’ll be coming home with me then.” Daemon presses a happy kiss against your lips, the sight of your bosom sinfully crushed against his chest sends a pang of desire to his cock, signaling it for action. “But, we might as well make good use of the room first. It was graciously afforded to us after all.”

Daemon reaches down to grip your hips, letting forth a hiss of air as he positions you on his already rigid length. You, his little firebird, would be keeping his flame kindled all this day and perhaps all night as well, with many more to follow. You were his now, born from a threat and remade into a promise that he intended to keep. Dragonseed has officially been continued! Read Chapter 2

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theplotmage · 4 months ago

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50 Worldbuilding Setting ideas for your fantasy book

Cities and Settlements

1. Capital City - The central hub of political power and culture in the realm.

2. Harbor Town - A bustling port city crucial for trade and naval activities.

3. Elf Village - A serene settlement hidden within a forest, home to elven inhabitants.

4. Dwarven Mines - An underground city where dwarves mine precious metals and gems.

5. Nomad Camp - A temporary settlement for wandering tribes and traders.

6. Market Square - The commercial heart of any major city, filled with vendors and artisans.

7. Sky City - A floating metropolis held aloft by magic or advanced technology.

Natural and Enchanted Locations

8. Mystic Forest - A dense, magical woodland filled with ancient trees and mythical creatures.

9. Enchanted Lake - A serene body of water with mystical properties.

10. Secret Cave - A hidden cavern that might contain treasure or danger.

11. Dark Swamp - A treacherous wetland often home to dark magic and creatures.

12. Forbidden Desert - A vast, arid expanse known for its harsh conditions and ancient secrets.

13. Floating Island - A landmass suspended in the sky, often home to unique flora and fauna.

14. Hidden Valley - A secluded, fertile valley protected from the outside world.

15. Charmed Meadows - Peaceful fields imbued with protective enchantments.

Magical and Supernatural Places

16. Wizard’s Tower - The abode of powerful sorcerers, filled with arcane knowledge.

17. Sacred Temple - A place of worship and spiritual significance, often protected by divine magic.

18. Haunted Castle - An ancient fortress inhabited by ghosts or malevolent spirits.

19. Necromancer’s Crypt - The lair of a dark sorcerer who practices necromancy.

20. Oracle’s Sanctuary - A holy site where oracles deliver prophecies and visions.

21. Magical Academy - An institution where young sorcerers learn the art of magic.

22. Alchemist’s Workshop - A place where alchemists experiment and create potions and elixirs.

23. Time Portal - A gateway to different eras, allowing travel through time.

Dangerous and Uncharted Areas

24. Ancient Ruins - The remnants of a once-great civilization, often hiding secrets or dangers.

25. Dragon’s Lair - The home of a fearsome dragon, filled with treasure and peril.

26. Cursed Forest - A dark, haunted woodland where malevolent forces dwell.

27. Battlefield - The site of a significant past conflict, often haunted by the spirits of the fallen.

28. Volcanic Wasteland - A desolate, fiery landscape wrought with volcanic activity.

29. Giant’s Keep - A massive fortress built and inhabited by giants.

30. Pirate Cove - A hidden inlet where pirates gather to plan their exploits.

31. Shadow Realm - A dark, parallel dimension filled with malevolent entities.

32. Frosty Tundra - A vast, icy wasteland where few dare to venture.

Cultural and Social Hubs

33. Royal Palace - The lavish residence of the ruling monarch and their court.

34. Thieves’ Guild - A secretive organization of thieves and rogues.

35. Warrior’s Training Grounds - A facility where soldiers and heroes train for battle.

36. Arena of Champions - A grand coliseum where warriors compete in combat.

37. Goblin Market - A chaotic and colorful marketplace run by goblins, offering exotic goods.

38. Hermit’s Hut - The secluded home of a wise hermit, often sought for advice.

39. Secret Hideout - A concealed refuge used by rebels or outlaws.

Mystical and Legendary Sites

40. Ethereal Gardens - Magical gardens with rare plants and enchanting beauty.

41. Celestial Observatory - A tower dedicated to studying the stars and celestial events.

42. Sanctuary of Lost Knowledge - A hidden library containing ancient and forbidden texts.

43. Sunken Ruins - The underwater remnants of a lost civilization.

44. Gryphon Nesting Grounds - A mountainous area where gryphons make their nests.

45. Spiral Staircase - An enigmatic, seemingly endless staircase leading to unknown depths.

46. Giant’s Keep - A colossal fortress built and inhabited by giants.

47. Protean Plains - A region where the landscape constantly changes, reshaped by powerful magic or ancient curses.

Adventurous and Explorative Spots

48. Treasure Hunter’s Camp - A gathering spot for explorers seeking lost relics.

49. Relic Seeker’s Cave - A cave rumored to contain powerful artifacts.

50. Explorer’s Outpost - A base for adventurers preparing for expeditions into unknown territories.

***

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uncharismatic-fauna · 6 months ago

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An Affinity for the Southern River Terrapin

The southern river terrapin (Batagur affinis), also known as the tungtung or the royal turtle, is a species of freshwater turtle residing, as its name implies, in the southern part of the Malaysian Peninsula, particularly along the western coast. They reside in estuaries, portions of large rivers that are regularly exposed to ocean tides.

While initially plain in appearance, the southern river terrapin can be visually striking. The body and shell are entirely black, or dark brown in females. The only spots of color are carried by males: bright yellow or white eyes and orange inner cheek flaps that are exposed when the mouth opens. Batagur affinis is also quite big, with females (the larger of the two sexes) reaching an average length of 62 cm (24 in) and a weight of 38 kg (83 lbs).

The tungtung is an omnivorous species. Its serrated beak allows it to feed on a variety of plants like grasses, algae, and fruits, as well as freshwater invertebrates like crustaceans and mollusks. Due to the high salinity of their habitats, they often leave the rivers and forage for food on land. The large size and thick shells of adults deters most predators. However, eggs and hatchlings are vulnerable to monitor lizards, otters, birds of prey, and crocodiles.

Mating for Batagur affinis occurs from October to February. Males and females remain relatively solo throughout the rest of the year, although they aren't overly territorial. Once a male locates a female, the two touch noses and he pulses his jaw to emphasize his bright orange cheek pouches and the white stripes on the inside of his throat. After copulation, the female lays a clutch of 20-40 eggs in nests dug in the sandy river bank. Young royal turtles hatch anywhere from 60-120 days later, depending on the temperature of the nest. Juveniles can take 18-22 years to reach maturity. Adults regularly reach ages well over 45, and individuals as old as 100 have been recorded.

Conservation status: The southern river turtle is considered Critically Endangered by the IUCN. Over-harvesting of both eggs and individuals has decimated populations, and those that remain are threatened by habitat destruction. However, both local and international conservation efforts have been underway to preserve the species and its ecosystem.

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Eng Heng Chan

Paul Calle

Thorn Sophun

#southern river turtle #Testudines #Geoemydidae #turtles #reptiles #freshwater fauna #freshwater reptiles #rivers #river reptiles #tropical forests #tropical forest reptiles #asia #southeast asia #animal facts #biology #zoology #ecology

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maelialuv · 2 years ago

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A Farmer's Friend. a Bridgerton fanfic <3

part one: A Chance Encounter

Summary: division brings unity. secrecy creates infatuation. a king's venture into the real world reveals desire.

Warnings: slow burn! strangers to friends to lovers! (Charlotte does not exist) smut! cold showers are on me.

Wordcount: 3.4K

The country side , to you, was heaven on earth. The far roaming hills, the deep valleys. The wide expanse of nothing but lush green fields. There was truly nothing more beautiful.

Your father's farm, to you, was the most beautiful of all. Located at the farthest edge of the county, miles and miles away from the city of London, it was a haven of tall grass, fruitful crops and rich orchards. That is where you spent most of your time, perched between the trunk and wide branches of a tall apple tree in the deepest part of your family's gardens. Far away from the bustling farm house, the uproar of live stock and the erratic, but loving, nature of your home.

From the moment the sun rose over the hills and danced across your face in the morning, to the moment it tucked itself into the valley at night, you were out in the fields. Tucked away indoors, you found yourself claustrophobic. Cased in, stir crazy and a tad hysterical. From a young age, your parents had to heard you inside at the end of a day much like the sheep dogs would heard the lambs back into their pens. It was no different, even as you approached adulthood.

You had your back to the trunk of a tree, a book clutched in one hand and an apple - freshly plucked from the branch above you- in the other, when you caught sight of one of the stable boys chasing after your father in the field ahead of you.

A man of great strength and pride, your father took his work in the fields very seriously. Even after the death of his own father, he was back shearing sheep after just two days. This is why it confused you ever so much , brows furrowed in a frown, to see your father drop his shears at once in front of the stable boy and clutch his chest. The pair raced down the field, sprinting in the direction of the house with the dogs trailing behind them in a flurry of brown and grey and white.

You took a pensive bite of the apple, crunching deliberately. 'Whatever is the matter?' you thought. 'What is the meaning of such fuss?' You tried desperately to get back to your book, the words of the author falling on distracted thoughts as your mind pondered such a reaction from your father. You snapped your book shut with a huff, annoyed and now positively rabid with curiosity.

John, an Orcher in his late fifties, was plucking apples from a tree just next to yours. You peered your head over to him. "John," you called, "have you any reason for father's fuss with the stable boy?"

John's face paled, almost frightfully white, at your question. He took his cap off with the type of remorse one shows with deep apology. "I'm terribly sorry, madam. I thought all the children were aware." You quirked a brow at his words, irritated that the farms people still saw you as one of the children despite being the eldest daughter in the house. His voice was gruff and gravely, years of shouting at yardsmen wearing on his vocal chords. "There is to be a royal visit, madam. Today."

Your eyebrows shot up so fast , you wondered for a moment if they were still on your face. "A royal visit? Here?" The Dowager Princess had not been out in the country since the passing of the late King. Your brows furrowed in deep confusion. "Whatever for?"

John shrugged his shoulders earnestly.

"Lord knows but I, madam. Some sort of review of the farmland, but that's between the King and his advisors."

"The King?" you squawked. You hiked your skirt up, throwing your legs over the branch and jumping down. You stalked to the bottom of the ladder John was standing on. "The King is coming here?"

In all your eighteen years, you'd only ever seen one monarch. Even so, it was a painting of His late Majesty. All you knew of the current King was that he made no visits to the towns, nor galas or balls. He had been labelled somewhat a recluse of a man. You wondered how that could be healthy for such an old person. At least, you assumed he was old. The previous king had died aged seventy and two, so this king must have been creeping into his late fifties now.

"Yes, madam." John said. "Your father has been called now, to prepare. He is due to arrive soon."

Your feet sprang into action, galloping down the aisle of the orchard at lightening speed as you raced toward the direction of the house. You never cared for pompous displays, or the royal family as a whole, very much at all. But today was different. The king himself was visiting your home. Your fields, your valleys and your hills. You felt oddly protective. As if this inspection was to be one with an insulting conclusion. You reassured yourself that they would see the beauty in your home. In the sway of the grassy hills in the wind.

Knowing your mother would not let you close enough to see even the Royal carriage make its way through the wooden gates of your home, you rounded the corner of the brown farm house and clambered your way up the large oak tree in the middle of the drive way. From high above in the branches, you would not be seen by your mother - as she so preferred. She yearned for a daughter more like the ones her sisters had. Lady like and proper and ones that smile at every pleasing farmer their mothers set them up with.

Your mother was disappointed in the lack of girlishness in you. She was displeased in your fascination with reading, and your taking to the outdoors. She was put off by the closeness between you and your father, finding it strange that the two of you could be friends as well as father and daughter. She found your desire to spend all day outdoors odd, and you found her desire to marry a farmer whilst hating farms to be odd in return.

You gripped on to the tallest branches, peering through leaves in the hopes of seeing the gleams of gold as the carriage approached. You saw your father and the farmer boys line up in front of the door below, and your mother and younger brothers waited just behind them. In the distance, you heard a low thrumming sound. It got louder, and seemingly closer, as more seconds ticked by. You realised, as you heard the clop clop clop noise, that it was the sound of horses' hooves on the dirt tracks as the carriage came into view.

The carriage halted in front of your door, and your father outstretched his hand to an older gentlemen in a plush blue suit. Though your fathers clothes- an old grey shirt and black trousers- were not as elegant, he looked just as regal as he shook hands with the stranger, who you assumed to be the King. He had greying hair, curled into ringlets by his side. There were several other men beside him, ranging from young to old to very old.

You craned your neck to hear their voices, a chorus of low hums and stiff lipped compliments from the old man you saw to be the king. Several minutes ticked by, boredom creeping in as you swung your legs back and forth over the branch, before the group of men finally split to tour the farm land with your father. You rejoiced, a grumble in your belly making any words they said inconsequential. You began your decent from the tree.

With scraped palms and knees, you made it to the ground with a thud. A successful spying , you thought as you wiped your hands on the skirt of your dress. Your monologing was interrupted by the stifled chuckle of a man behind you. You whipped round, narrowing your eyes at the man. Dressed in a simple white shirt and the same black field trousers as your father, he looked to be a fielder himself.

"Hello," he said, voice even and light. He stood with his hands behind his back, polite and effortlessly straight. He was young, younger than the rest of the group you assumed he had been standing with. He must have been no more than three years older than you, as his cheeks still had the faintest roundness to them.

"What are you doing?" he asked when you did not say anything.

You knew your eyes were wide, those of someone caught. There was no use in lying , nor excusing. This man had watched you climb down the tree, from where you had spied. You outstretched your hands, as if stating the obvious. "I was climbing down. From the tree."

"From the tree?"

"Yes, from the tree."

"From that tree?" the man asked, voice teasing and smile irritating as he pointed to the tall oak you had previously been perched in.

"Yes, that tree."

"Whatever for?" He placed his hands behind his back once more, slowly pacing around you in a circle.

"I was hungry, you see." You deadpanned.

"Ah," he affirmed, "and you did not bring food when you climbed up the tree." He was enjoying teasing you, as the smirk on his face grew larger at your squirming. "Or simply not enough."

"Well," you trailed off, waiting for the man to introduce himself to you.

"Forgive me," he said, outstretching a hand. "I am George."

"Well George," you continued. "Usually the trees I climb have some sort of fruit or such for me to eat while I climb, or lounge, or read. This is not my typical tree to climb." You explained.

"And I suppose you have a typical tree?" His face was oddly gleeful, as if this conversation with you - a stranger- was the best part of his day. His smile was wide, showing teeth.

"Yes, I do."

"Which is?" He asked, stepping closer toward you. His smirk was a teasing grin now.

"The apple tree," you stated, that protectiveness creeping back into your tone. "at the farthest end of the orchard."

"Now," he said, voice lilted with mock impress, "I must see this tree, that you so fondly and regularly climb." His voice was a stage whisper.

"Alas, I cannot." You teased back, some what enjoying the banter yourself. "I do not simply show my tree to strangers."

"Ah, but I am not a stranger," he said, closer again now. "I am just George." He stuck his hand out again, waiting for you to shake it. Hesitantly, you did. "I would be honoured to see your tree."

"Do you not have business to attend to?" You asked, gesturing in the direction the other men and the Royal herd had walked in. George shook his head, waving off your remark.

"They are fine themselves. They have no use for my agreements here and questions there." He said. "And even so, if I were to re-join them now," he took another small step closer to you, eyes searching in the distance, "my mind would think of nothing but this apple tree at the farthest end of the orchard."

You smiled at the man as he looked down at you, and felt the strangest urge to lead him by the hand to your sacred reading spot. Something about George made you trust him, utterly and completely, as if you'd known him your whole life. As if you'd run through the fields with him as children, and he knew where the tree was already.

"All right, just George."

A bright, down right contagious smile etched itself on to his face. You couldn't help but smile just as brightly.

The two of you strode side by side through the back field of the farm, chatting idly as you lead him to the orchard. George told you he was a keen farmer himself, but his family bound him to the city. "Why don't you just leave them?" you asked as you opened the large wooden field gate for him.

George paused, leaning on the gate with both arms crossed. "It is not that simple," he said, his face contort in a frown. "I am obliged to stay there. It is a duty, of sorts." He looked around at the tall grass, the wild flowers that bloomed in the field at his feet. "If it were up to me, I would spend all my time in the country."

You felt immensely sorry for him. The thought of being away from the country for more than a day put a nasty pit in your stomach. Gently, you placed your hand on his arm. He looked up at you with glum eyes. You gave him your best reassuring smile as you squeezed his arm lightly. He smiled back at you.

You fell back into stride with one another after that. George asked about your family, and you told him about your father and your three younger sisters. He asked where they were, and you let out a haughty laugh. "They cower at the sight of mud. They are cooped inside with my mother, embroidering or learning the pianoforte or some other nonsense."

"You see no value in these tasks, then?" George asked with a small smirk.

"I see no point, given where we live. What use have I for musical impress or intricate sewing when I spend my time outdoors?" You paused your walking, gesturing to the cows grazing near by. "Any man I encounter in these parts will be as impressed by my pianoforte as those cows."

"Ah, I see." George chuckled to himself. "You are to be a spinster then." You whipped round to face him, annoyance turning your brows into a tight v shape. George laughed again.

"For a stranger you are certainly bold."

"I do not hear a defence."

"No, I am not to be a spinster." You crossed your arms, uncrossing them when George cocked his head to the side slightly. You must have looked ridiculous, like an petulant, spoilt child. You huffed.

"I am not to be a spinster. At least not by intention." You both began walking again, rounding the corner to the long aisle of the orchard. "There," you said, pointing to your tree at the very end.

You turned when George remained silent. His mouth was agape slightly, brown eyes wide and almost honey in the mid day sun. "Beautiful," he sighed out.

It caught you off guard, the strange desire to lead him by the hand to your tree and show him the very best branches. The way he looked at your favourite spot with such awe made you near desperate to share it with him. You had to restrain yourself from reaching out and touching his hand that was inches from yours at your side. You shook your head slightly, as if a jitter would rid of of such peculiar feelings. "Come along, then."

George walked obediently at your side, keeping perfect pace with you. As you walked, he couldn't help but notice the sway of your hair in the light breeze, the way it framed your face so gently. Or the patches of freckles that spotted the bridge of your nose, or the subtle fullness of your bottom lip, how it was slightly larger than the top.

"You said you are not to be a spinster by choice," he began as you reached the foot of the tree. "Whatever do you mean?"

"What I mean is," you said as you reached up to a near branch, pulling yourself up with little struggle, "no man here is in need of a wife, and I am in no need for an elderly husband." You frowned when George laughed again. "You must stop that!" You cried.

"Stop what?" He smiled through his teeth again.

"Laughing at me!"

"I am not laughing at you, forgive me." He said, reaching up to the same branch and - just as you had- hauled him self up with ease. "I simply find it hard to believe no one here is in need of a wife."

"Everyone is already married, or too old, or far too young." You deadpanned. "I do not want to marry a frail old man."

"Let me rephrase," George began. He reached across you, and for a moment you thought he was going to touch your cheek. You sucked in a nervous breath. He plucked an apple that was hanging just above you ear. "I find it hard to believe no one here wants you for a wife."

You found it hard to form words, stuttering over a response. George bit into his apple , smugness radiating off of him in reams.

The two of you sat in peaceful silence for a moment, your backs leaning against the trunk of the tree while your legs stretched out next to each other. "Do you sit out here all day?" George asked softly, turning his head toward you. His breath fanned over your face slightly. You nodded.

"Most days," you sighed contently. "I am usually the one that goes into the towns if needed. Otherwise, I am left alone to sit here as I please." You looked out as the sheep roamed the field ahead of you.

George rested his head back against the trunk of the tree.

"I am envious of you, truly." He said, looking at you from the corner of his eye. You turned your head to face him. Your shoulders were brushing against each other with every breath.

"You are welcome to come here," you said, in an uncharacteristically soft voice. "You can bring a book, and you may sit here for as long as you like, whenever you please. Whenever your family allows you to be in the country."

This close to him, you noticed the flecks of gold in George's eyes. The small freckle above his eye brow. The rosiness of his cheeks. His words echoed in your head.

'I find it hard to believe no one wants you for a wife."

In the distance, you heard the ruckus of the men returning to the front of the house. George shot up. You shot up with him.

"I must go," he said hurriedly. He swung his legs over the branch and jumped off. As you moved to do the same, you saw him waiting on the ground with his hands outstretched. He was helping you down. You reached a hand out to him, and he pulled you down. Expecting a thud, you noticed he had steadied you with a hand on your waist. "I wish I could stay longer, I truly do. Alas, they will run like chickens without heads if I am not back soon."

You wished to find some poetic goodbye, but all you could muster was a soft sigh. "Will you be back?" His hand was still gripping yours.

George chuckled breathily.

"Of course," he said, as if it was obvious. "I must bring a book and see if this really is the best spot for reading."

The voices in the distance got louder, calling George's name now. He looked over his shoulder, then back to you. "I am back in the country in two weeks time. May I see you then?"

You smiled at his politeness, hoping your hasty nod came across as friendly and not desperate. "Of course."

"Splendid."

He brought your hand to his lips then, placing a gentle kiss on the top of your knuckles. "It has been a pleasure, madam." He said with a gentlemanly bow.

He turned to walk away then, and you felt as though the wind had been knocked right out of you. Your feet were glued to the ground, unable to move you from that same spot.

"Oh," George called from a distance. "The inspection went fantastically. Your farm shall have a wonderful review." He grinned, all boyish and joyful, before turning back and sprinting in the direction of the loud voices.

His words only sunk in after he'd rounded the corner gate, and you nearly collapsed onto a log.

Not only had you spent your afternoon with a total stranger, telling him your deepest thoughts and secrets, scandalously close should a gossiping eye see it.

You'd just spent your afternoon with the King of England.

#queen charlotte #bridgerton #bridgerton netflix #queen charlotte netflix #king george #king george x reader #king george bridgerton #corey mylchreest #bridgerton fanfiction #bridgerton x reader #period piece #slow burn #friends to lovers #strangers to lovers #strangers to friends #fluff #smut #fanfic #bridgerton queen charlotte

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starogeorgina · 3 months ago

Text

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x reader

Warnings: Smut

Aftercare ― Anything you need, Jacaerys does it; from having a bath drawn to your favorite tea being brought to the room, he does it. The prince will always take the time to hold you close and make sure you know how much he adores you.

Body part ― His favorite body part is his hands. The prince loves knowing that not only can he make you fall apart cumming and crying his name while fingering you, but he can protect you while wielding a sword.

His favorite body part on you is your stomach; he loves knowing it can/has swells bigger as you grow his babe.

Cum ― He loves cumming inside you. Although there have been a few instances when the prince has gotten overexcited and cum in his pants when you’ve teased him.

Desires ― Jacaerys loves nothing more than being intimate with you; his sex drive is higher than you anticipated. The blood of the dragon runs thick.

Experience ― You both lost your virginity on your wedding night.

First time ― The first time was awkward and didn’t last long.

Grooming ― Both you and Jacaerys have neatly groomed body hair.

Horny ― Jacaerys is a young man, and it doesn’t take much for him to become aroused. He would fuck you every morning and night if possible.

Intimacy ― Aside from the odd rushed fuck, Jacaerys wants intimacy. It brings him comfort.

Joking — Jacaerys loves joking around with you but doesn’t often do it during sex.

Kinks ― The Prince has a praise kink; he loves it when you tell him how well he’s doing.

Location ― Your shared royal bedchamber is the most comfortable place to have sex, but he enjoys taking you in places you could get caught, like the council chamber, courtyard, or one in an empty hallway.

Masturbation ― Since being married, the prince doesn’t play with his cock unless the two of you are apart for a few days.

No go ― Anything that would cause you pain. He won’t spill his seed across your pretty face.

Oral ― He loves it when you fall to your knees and take his cock into your mouth, but prefers cumming inside your cunt rather than down your throat.

He could spend hours between your legs; making you come apart on his tongue was one of his favorite things to do.

Positions ― He loves it when you’re on top. Cock buried deep inside you, his eyes glued to your bouncing breasts as his hands grip tightly onto your ass.

Quickies ― Any sex outside your bedchamber is a quickie.

Rounds ― Jacaerys can go two or three rounds before needing to take a break.

Secrets ― His dirty secret is that he used to stroke his cock and think of you nightly.

Toys ― You don’t own any, but he would be open to trying it.

Underwear ― Neither if you wear undergarments aside from horse or dragon riding or special occasions.

Volume ― Jacaerys is still a little paranoid that others can hear you, so he tries to manage his own volume control and yours by smashing your lips together.

Watch ― He enjoys it when you finger yourself in front of him.

Xxx ― Jacaerys has never visited any brothels or seen sex acts performed on others.

Yearning — You and Jacaerys are in a never-ending honeymoon phase; as I said before, the blood of the dragon runs thick.

Zzz ― He becomes tired quickly after sex and can fall asleep in your arms easily.

#house of the dragon #jacaerys velaryon x you #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon fanfiction #jacaerys velaryon smut #jacaerys velaryon/you #jacaerys velaryon fanfic #jace velaryon smut #jace velaryon/reader #jacaerys targaryen x reader #jacaerys targaryen smut #house of the dragon fanfiction #house of the dragon fanfic #jace velaryon x reader #jace velaryon fanfiction #jace velaryon fanfic #kinktober 2024 #kinktober

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flamingpudding · 11 months ago

Note

I just got done reading the prompt that I asked you about and it's wonderful thank you so much and if you're okay with it I'm here to help you make a part two but if you don't want to do that that's okay I'm just adding some bonus to it.

I'm just imagining Danny full Ghost King attire showing up with two things to cookies one with kryptonite in them cuz I love the head can of ghosts eating good tonight like candy and the other set a normal batch of chocolate chip cookies. Looking down Young Justice being like in the most Patrick electric entity sounding voice with a country accent "I'm so just the cutest oddiest little berries on the bush" (sorry just speaking in my little country Danny headcannon)

But I can also see Danny being embarrassing for Klarion. Danny sit down the two trains of cookies Evan just start hugging and kissing his son on his head like the embarrassing mom he is talking about how he's so skinny and he should eat more. Also really nice to Young Justice it's like them realizing they just might by the end of the day be adopted by enemies mom.

Justice League is getting to the location ready to fight and do what they can just for a Young Justice member with a cookie in hand to walk up and explain and tell them to play along for free cookies.

RedRobin badly wants to try one of the kryptonite cookies to see what it would do if he ate it. Klarion keeps stopping him because as much as he doesn't like them he doesn't want RedRobin to die.

Who I'm just adding on a couple of things really love your writing though oh yeah what are your pronouns so I can know to refer to you as just asking.

So glad you liked it and no problem i don't mind at all. I was thinking about adding a part two honestly. Well then lets continue the shenanigans. I hope this part two won't disappoint either. And out of courtesy for once added people who asked for tags in the comments. Don't get used to it. I usually don't to tags. This is an exception for this awesome prompt idea.

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The moment a Lazarus green portal started to open in the Living Room, Red Robin suffered a small, probably slightly traumatic, flashbacks to all the times he had seen the Lazarus Pits, but before he could even react Klarion tackled him to the ground with a distinctive hiss of "Play alone." His friends, the traitors, had managed to doge Klarion. Impulse had simple used his speed to step aside and Superboy apparently had headed a warning. Wonder Girl hadn't even been in the path of Klarions tackle. So this was why Red Robin was currently the only one getting sort of wrestled and put into a headlock on the ground in a hold he knew he could easily get out of but was to distracted by the ceiling high, eldritch as well as royal looking being stepped out of it.

The portal closed behind that being and Red Robin swallowed seeing six eyes in inky black that mirrored the night sky blink down at them.

"Klarion?" The static voice ringed in their ears and from the corner of his eyes Red Robin saw Superboy flinch visibly.

"Mom! Your early!" Red Robins head hit the floor as Klarion suddenly let him go to greet the being that's apparently his mother. He glared at the witch boy for that as he sat up and rubbed his had.

"Oh my, sorry my dear." Superboy flinched again, and Red robin could hear Impulse whispering to Wonder Girl if he was the only one seeing four mouths talk at the same time. Klarion appeared to have it heard to as he send them a quick glare over his shoulder before turning back to his mother.

"Mom, could you tune down on the eldritch?" Red Robin blinked stunned before seeing the bing apparently blush green in embarrassment and its form changing until there stood a man, about Red Hoods height still with a floating crown and a royal cape, but at least more human like and resembling Klarion but with more blueish skin before them.

"Sorry baby, I thought my royal appearance would make a better first impression." The man pinched the witch boys cheek lovingly, to witch Klarion whined out a drawn out "Mom."

The four young heroes couldn't help but stare, was that seriously their villain Klarion? The one that tried to cause chaos and make their lives difficult on regular basis?

"Klarion. Why is there a magic barrier around your apartment." The man in royal clothing suddenly asked and they blinked seeing Klarion flinch and laugh nervously. "Oh you know mom, keeping the bonding in one place so other mortals won't be bothered." To which the man cooed. He cooed!

"Bonding? What bonding?" The four heroes echoed blinked and exchanged stunned and confused looks. Bonding? What Bonding? What were they talking about? Sure they hadn't gotten a lot of explanations out of Klarion before that portal opened and apparently his entire act about his mother visiting was the true. It was clear that the witch boy's mother was some kind of other worldly being but it looked like there was more to it. Also considering the royal like outfit and the grown.... did that mean that they had been dealing with a prince of some kind as villain the entire time.

Suddenly the man bristled turning to glare at them back in his eldritch form towering over them. "Are you telling me you mortals have been ignoring my sons bonding?! And that is why my son's bonds don't appear to be properly formed?!"

They flinched back staring at that being that was now back to locking eldritch horror like with a crown and royal cape. Their eyes were locked onto the being, only distantly they realised that Klarion was pulling on his mother hissing something that sounded very much just like static to their ears. It to a while longer but finally the being drew back staring what sounded like a static filled discussion with Klarion and Impulse was pretty sure he had been ready to sully himself if it had taken any longer,

Apparently Klarion and his mother finished their exchanged as they both turned to them, his mom now again more human like looking. "Mom these are my friends. The punk looking guy is Superboy the half alien, Red Robin the one in red and black, you know Dinner boy. Impulse from the Flash-Clan and Wonder Girl one of the Amazonian. Guys this is my mom, Ghost King of the Infinite Realms."

Red Robin couldn't help the eye twitch at his introduction, he also noticed that Impulse flinched back as the mans eyes locked onto him and he didn't need Superboy's confirmation of having heard a grumble about 'why did it have to be a speedster'. Great so this eldritch being, apparently King and most likely a danger and possible hostile did not like one of them already. Why did Klarion ask them to play pretend friends again?

"Well I will be, you have quiet the colourful and oddest batch of fleshy mortals here." The man grinned at them, that were sharp teeth the four heroes observed. "Titles are a bit stuffy, feel free to call me Danny kids. Now come here. I brought some cookies with me."

Before they knew it the four of them were seated on the couch with a huge plate of cookies on the coffee table before them. The four of them blinked at the two kinds of cookies. Impulse was already reaching out to them fearlessly but Wonder Girl had the foresight to stop their friend for the moment. Superboy on the other hand appeared to look quiet queasy and was slowly turning green to the worry of Red robin. They noticed Klarion turning towards his Mom when he took note of this. "Mom! I have a Kryptonian friend! Why did you bring cookies with kryptonite chunks! Look! Superboy is turning green just looking at them."

The Ghost King, now known by the name Danny to them, appeared to be waving his son. "Oh he will be fine in a moment its not enough to completely bother his species, he will just be more human like till you ate all of them. These ones are more for you anyway, you are way to thin lately." Danny then turned to them with a smile. "Please feel free to eat the chuckles chip once. I can guarantee they are human friendly. My sister helped me make them. She is a liminal human."

That was all Impulse needed to rip his wrist free and stuff the first of the chocolate chips cookies into his mouth. "They are good!"

Danny smiled at them satisfied, and with that out of the way started to make small talk with them while also embarrassing his son with occasional comments like. "Oh you should have seen when Klarion first got Teekl." Or "He nearly burned down our entire castle when he started actually learning magic." Or "He used to be such a grumpy adult until he deaged and became such a cute grumpy little baby boy. Want to see photos?"

They never got to see photos to Wonder Girls disappointment. Klarion managed to cut in between suffering embarrassment and glaring at them for encouraging his mother to tell more embarrasing stories and forced the portal, his mother was going to reach into for the photos, to close.

By now the teens have become more relaxed around Danny. The man had a friendly charm to him and genuinely showed an interest in them as well as in the well bing of his son. They could understand why Klarion didn't want to disappoint a parent like that. They snacked on the cookies and Red Robin watched with interest whenever Klarion and Danny reached for one of the cookies with green Kryptonite chunks. Danny had mentioned off handedly in one of his stories of Klarion that they both used to be normal humans. Red Robin was very interested in this right now.

Suddenly Superboy elbowed Impulse and Red Robin, having caught the movement turned to them with an arched eyebrow. "Mentors." The other mouthed to them and they sighed, of course their mentors would show up sooner or later. They shared a glance and Red Robin took on the task to subtitle inform Klarion since they were sitting next to each other when Impulse excused himself to a toilet break shortly.

Red Robin used that quick distraction to reach towards the cookie plate.

Meanwhile Impulse came to a stop in front of the front door stopped by his foot from slamming shut behind him again, thankfully Klarion had removed his magic barrier that could have made this difficult. He had one cookie in hand and grinned up at their mentors and the Justice League Dark members.

"Hi everyone!" He greeted them cheerfully, taking a bite of his cookie.

"Impulse? Are you okay? What happened?!" Flash was instantly on the teen checking him over for any sort of injury. They were prepared to fight since Deadman had reported the location where the Ghost King had appeared. They had chosen to halt their search for the missing teens for the moment but had paled when Superman had mentioned he was hearing their voices from the same location.

"Oh i am fine! Great even. Did you know that there are other dimensions that have melon flavoured chips?" Impulse easily answered grinning. "Also you might wanna dile back on the battle ready aura you guys radiate. Klarions mom is visiting, pretty awesome guy."

"Klarion? The witch boy?" Wonder Woman asked stunned to which Impulse nodded. "Yea, pretty nice guy. Ghost King of a dimension that holds everything together like glue. Kinda badass."

"Bloody fucking..." Batman glared at Constantine who swallowed the rest of his curse. "The hell you mean the Ghost King is badass? That a fucking tyrannical blood hungry war maniac!"

Impulse blinked at them. "Really? I mean he does have scary form that made me nearly piss myself but he is pretty chill. Awesome parent, we get why Klarion loves his mom so much now."

The blond Brite pinched the bridge of his nose letting out a suffering sigh. "Just let us in mate, we will deal with this before our dimension can kiss its arse goodbye."

Impulse appeared to be thinking for a moment before shaking his head. "Uh nope. We are having a good time actually. A nice break. Sooooo no!" Before Flash or anyone else could react impulse stepped back closing the door into their faces. They blinked stunned, Batman was the first to recover stepped towards the door to attempt to open it only for his lockpick to be deflected by a red barrier suddenly appearing. The man growled turning to glare at the Justice League Dark members with a silent comment.

Inside the apartment a little bit earlier....

Klarion snatched another green glowing cookie from Red Robins hands with a glare at the other teen, who only glared back. Danny was watching them amused feeling reminded of himself and Tucker by their interaction. But then his attention turned to Wonder Girl as she asked for another story about Klarions childhood.

A moment later Klarion felt a nudge and looked at Superboy who nudged him across a pouting Red Robin who got another green glowing cookie snatched from him. The witch boy arched an eyebrow when Superboy asked to recreated the barrier to keep their mentors out but did so the moment Impulse was back with them with already three new chocolate cookies in hand as he joined Wonder Girl in fishing for more stories.

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rayroseu · 4 months ago

Text

Wait this is actually interesting, so from what the story implies, Wild Rose Castle is weaker than Black Scale Castle because it probably has no magical atmosphere that serves as its defense, there's probably fewer troops here, and the fact that its just on a clear meadow makes the terrain not suitable for defenses unlike Black Scale who is atop a mountain and covered in a Valley.

So I kinda think that Wild Rose Castle is a newly built castle in Briarland. After all, Meleanor was a kid only 200 years ago so Wild Briar is probably that age as well (or more), i think that age is young (compared to Black Scale which probably several centuries old?) thats why it has weaker defense facilities.

Maybe Wild Briar is older as Black Scale, but this game says this is Meleanor's castle so I assume she's the one who had built this.

But I have this HC that this castle is actually built because of Levan. For his diplomatic mission between humans. Building a castle in an easy terrain would make sense to make it easier for magicless humans to transport in. Because I don't really expect(?) Maleanor who is a military commander, which she probably has knowledge of strategies, to not see how disadvantegous this location is considering its close to humans

But I also think Wild Briar was built as like a refuge for the faes that live far away outside Dragon City(I wont call it dragonopolis lol)

Wild Rose being a few centuries old also kinda makes sense since the Silver Owls only recognize Meleanor as the only ruler in Briarland, they probably arent aware theres a queen named Maleficia because she's ancient(?) atleast I didnt caught any silver owls mentioning her iirc(?) They went to the mountains near Dragon city yes-- but like it was to pursue General Lilia and not to besiege Black Scale as well even they kinda had the potential to do so since they took down Maleanor and Silver Owls' is implied to be very greedy--

I actually think its more interesting to not summarize Maleanor's cause of death as just her overestimating her win against Knight of Dawn-- I actually think its because of several reasons such as:

"Wrong time" in working out the diplomatic relations between the conflict between humans and faes, Levan's plan to educate wasn't pointless effort, but I wish the story states as well what he did to counter the fact that the faes hates humans not because of a misunderstanding, but because of their mistreatment towards faes(the story literally implies rhe humans kills faes meanwhile we have yet to see a royal guard fae that killed humans the story only tells us they chased them away), Levan does this when its clear that the Silver Owls was getting hostile, like objectively speaking, this was kinda not the right time to communicate and Meleanor was the receiving end of the build up hostility of the Silver Owls

This is kinda countering my first point, but Meleanor's decisions was kinda weird too in the story lol, why send your best Generals to the enemy fortress.... 😭💥 But I actually think this is interesting as well, because its likely a reference to the wars in LiveAction Maleficent... I remember watching that movie especially Maleficent 2: Mistress of Evil and just wondering why the Moors never plans (and even if they do its very simple, just charge in and overpower the enemy with strength), they just charge in instead of treating it "like a chess" where you save your best pieces in dangerous situations and everyone has a role in dispelling the enemy. They also hold this belief that only the strong ones would guarantee their success and heavily relies on them. Meanwhile, Queen Ingrid used deception and control to subdue all the faeries. Like Meleanor/Faes vs Humans, the faes never thinks about what the human enemy plans, they rely on raw dodging it lol probably alluding to the fact that the faes have trouble thinking like a human.

And lastly this point lol, poor choice of headquarters, the terrain is easy for humans to invade in, and the castle is still weak, also the fact that Wild Briar was alone in fighting several human nations was a factor as well because it couldnt get back up in time because it was too far away from Black Scale Castle, kinda adding Wild Briar was outnumbered too atp

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coralinnii · 1 year ago

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❋If you are a villain, then let me be your accomplice❋ ↳ reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy aka villain/ess au part 2 feat: Jade genre: drama, partners in crimes-to-partners in love?, slow burn romance note: sequel to "being reincarnated into a new world as the bad guy" Jade ver., no pronouns used for reader, some actions are ethically questionable (Jade and reader are just up to no good),

part one series masterlist

You cursed the lovey-dovey fools who drone on about the bliss of married life, fondly speaking of the joy and romance that leads to the big day and beyond. With the right person, life as someone engaged to be married would be a dream come true.

With the right person, that is

Unfortunately, you didn’t have that pleasure when you’re faced with the man you happened to be engaged to; the mysterious Jade Leech.

“You seemed to be very occupied with something.” With a quizzical look, you asked the teal-haired heir as he sat at his study desk. While you exaggerated, there was a sizable amount of papers atop the merman’s desk, with names and locations you recognised as you managed to glimpse upon the reports. “Am I allowed to inquire about the mountain of reports on your desk?”

Unperturbed, Jade gave you his well-practiced smile. “Of course, I would never hide anything from my wonderful betrothed”

This brazen liar

Having chosen to willingly participate in the Leech family’s goals, you were aware of their plans to monopolize the marine-related business and operations, including taking over the coastal territories from other nobles.

Which was exactly what Jade was currently trying to do apparently, as he had his family’s men research a baron whose territory included a lively strait between this kingdom and a flourishing island nation nearby. But the baron was an incompetent leader with an unfavorable reputation amongst the merfolk and islanders due to his actions as a businessman.

“Baron Byrne seems to be causing quite an issue in his strait as the large amount of cargo ships constantly coming through the strait is disrupting the islanders’ livelihood as well as the merfolk that made the nearby reefs their home…”

“But since he seems to have a good relationship with the prince’s new lover, his behavior is not reprimanded by the royal family,” you continued his thoughts and let out a frustrated sigh. “He’s a greedy, impatient bastard but no one can stop him”

Jade kept his courteous smile but you couldn’t imagine he was thrilled about any of this. Despite the human-merfolk peace treaty being established, the merfolk were used as the antagonists in this world so the story ignored their issues or crimes against them.

“This was a romance webtoon, I supposed. No attention was given to the repercussions of the lives outside of the main leads”

You looked through the reports on the baron’s family and you noticed a more detailed section on a certain person; the baron’s wife to be precise. You recognised the young woman as an admirer of Jade, recalling how envious she seems every time she looks your way. From what you knew, she married the baron for his new status as a noble but fell for Jade when she first saw him at a gathering.

“So you’re planning to go through the wife for information” you let out a noise of intrigued as you looked through the papers “you even found out where the salons and stores she frequents. That’s impressive but tell me, how do you plan to approach her?”

“Oh my, does the notion of me meeting her upset you?” Jade reached for your hand to hold as he looked up to you from his seat, peering at you with convincing concern and acting like a worried fiancé, “I would never intend to hurt you in any way or give doubt to my devotion to you”

“Firstly, don’t mock me by lying so blatantly” you sneered as you pulled your hand from his grasp. “Secondly, I agree that meeting the baron’s wife is the best way to find out about his weakness”

Jade raised his brow inquisitively before changing back into a look of worry, “Then what is it that causes such concern on your face, my dear?”

Again, that fake term of endearment sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’m only asking so I can act accordingly” you looked at the tall merman with mocking sweetness in your eyes. “Should I be the naive partner who knows nothing, or perhaps I’m grieving over the audacity of my dear fiancé meeting with someone other than me?”

For a moment, you thought you saw a glint in Jade’s dual-coloured eyes before a look of amusement took over his face. He chuckled behind his gloved hand before smiling at you, his sharp teeth peeking behind his lips. “I will leave that decision to you, my dear. I’m excited to see what you’ll show me”

Weeks passed since your conversation with Jade as he quickly put his plan into motion, finding chances to meet the baroness by “coincidence” and gaining her trust immediately. You weren’t surprised how quickly Jade managed to befriend the smitten woman. If you were none the wiser, you didn’t have the confidence to say that you could withstand Jade’s good looks and charming persona either (it would be paradise in the underworld before you would ever let Jade know that, however).

Of course, meetings like these tend not to stay secret for long, especially amongst the high social circle. Many of the gossiping noblewomen whispered around about the possible tryst between the lovestruck baroness and the attractive Leech family heir. However, most of the attention fell to you as the supposed tragic lover of this “affair.”

Being part of a well-respected family, you were ultimately the envy of certain nobles who would love nothing more than to pull you off your high horse, in sadistic glee in watching a family like yours be sullied. One of these nobles included the woman involved in the rumour herself, Baroness Byrne.

“Please don’t misunderstand,” the baroness spoke with such fake sincerity, you almost laughed at the poor acting. “Sir Leech and I just get along so well that these rumours seemed to misconstrue our closeness”

It’s almost insulting to think that this woman assumes that you can’t figure out that she was most likely the one to start these rumours in the first place since you knew Jade would try not to catch too much attention if the situation does not call for it. Despite being a married woman, you wondered if she’s hoping to break your engagement and take him for herself.

“If it were that easy, I wouldn’t be in this nonsense” you scoffed internally but hid your thoughts with a maintained smile (Jade has given you some bad habits). “If she wants to play mind games, then let’s play~”

“It’s quite alright, really. I’m not worried at all” you put on your best smile, a look of understanding displayed in your eyes. “In fact, I’m happy that my fiancé has made a friend like you, Baroness Byrne”

“R-really?” The baroness stuttered which secretly delighted you. You hid your glee with a sickly sweet smile, however.

“Of course, Jade and I tend to be quite busy since we often have to work tirelessly in maintaining our lands, assets, and the responsibilities we will inherit” you sighed as though life bears heavy on your shoulders “We spent so much time together since Jade likes to inspect every valuable item in my possession, taking in all its beauty and worth. He has quite an eye for such things, you see.”

You looked to the baroness, your gaze demanding her eyes to meet yours. Once she did, you curled your lips slightly to display just a hint of taunting smugness. “With the baroness, Jade can enjoy a simple and humble company without much to entice his personal interest.”

One could almost see the steam escaping from the baroness’ face as she turned red with humiliated rage. With that, you decided to swiftly take your leave lest you wanted to get your eyes ripped out by a madwoman.

After some time, you decided to make your way towards the carriage area to go home, you were shocked to see Jade standing outside alone. Once your eyes locked, he immediately made his way to you with an ever-present smile. Was he…waiting for you?

No, that couldn’t be.

“Jade, I assumed that you were still at the ballroom” Last you saw Jade, he was mingling with his brother Floyd and Count Azul.

“Hmm, I was. But then, I heard some commotion amongst the ladies and decided that it’d be best to call it a night.”

You made the right choice to leave when you did, then. You wanted to smile at the little chaos you caused but decided to stamp down that hidden glee.

“Fair enough. That reminds me, you may be receiving an invitation from Baroness Byrne very soon, and it is in your best interest to accept it.”

You seemed to pique Jade’s curiosity, though it seems that you always do. “Oh, and could you share the reason as to why?”

“Because if she fell for my taunt, I would bet that she will try her best to entice you with whatever treasure or asset she can access.” You smirked, a sly glint in your eyes. “And hopefully you can convince her to show her husband’s warehouses where he stores the items the baron imports in, perhaps some hard-to-procure rarities”

From what you see from Jade’s reports on the baron’s history, you’re betting that the greedy noble would be the type to obtain and sell anything that would bring him a fortune. With his focus on sea-related products, he might be acquiring and selling items from the merfolk community without their approval which is currently illegal with the peace treaty. Merfolk-specific products were now harder to obtain through human merchants which increased their value even more.

“Pearls, mermaid scales, valuable minerals from the seabed…anything in the possession of a human who intends to sell them is grounds for punishment for treaty violation”

As if your minds were one, Jade was quick to realize your plans to trap the baron family. It was sneaky, dangerous, and if it works it would be ruining two people with no hope of salvaging their reputation. The baron would be stripped of his title and his merchant career while the baroness would be shamed for inviting an engaged man in an attempt to seduce him. Jade knew that you were intriguing, willing to act however necessary to protect yourself but to instigate the downfall of others, even if they were guilty of their crimes…

Jade can’t ever take his eyes off you.

Still, he had to ask you something, “You seem to have quite the confidence in me. Do you not worry I will not live up to your expectations?”

The teal-haired man expected a snarky quip from you or perhaps question him back over his competence. But instead, you furrowed your brows and looked at him adorably (in his perspective) with confusion.

There was one thing you were sure of; Jade Leech would never get caught. No matter the situation, no matter the evidence, Jade will always find a way to slither his way out of trouble when he wants to. You were better off worrying about your own safety than his.

“Why would I worry? You’ll never fail.”

Your voice was so full of conviction, without a hint of doubt or hesitation. Jade felt a strange surge of glee upon hearing your answer. He found a compatible partner that never fails to amuse him. You brought new entertainment to his personal life.

Jade let out a chuckle, a smile that almost seems genuine to you. The tall man looked to you, his mix-matched eyes staring with such unusual softness. Gently, he took your hand in his own so he could raise it to his lips where he then pressed a soft kiss upon your skin. In surprise, you locked gaze with Jade��s eyes as you felt warmth coursing through you though you played it off as uneasiness towards Jade’s strange actions. You continued to watch Jade as he kept his mouth barely touching your hand, but you could feel every brush of his lips as he spoke close to your fingers. “I will not disappoint you so keep your eyes on me, my dear.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst imagines #twst scenarios #villainess au #twisted wonderland imagines #jade leech #twst jade x reader #jade x reader #jade leech x reader

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welikeimagines-andfandoms · 1 year ago

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Thranduil NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Very caring and sweet. Wants to spend a lot of time wrapping his arms around his partner, like a mother koala. Will want to carry his partner to the bath and take his time with a gentle cloth

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On himself, his hands and fingers. He loves how both elegant and powerful they can be. He adorns them with regal looking rings. Loves how they can give his partner both pleasure and pain

On a partner I feel like he loves hips. Great place to grab onto to manoeuvre and hold on tight while he’s fucking hard. Also a great place to anchor you as he holds you, running his fingers from the top of the rib cage all the way to the bottom of the hip and squeezing it.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Loves to cum on his partner and will just look at them covered in cum for a bit while his breathing starts to calm down. He becomes almost amazed at how his partner looks

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I’ve seen heaps of people say how he wants to fuck his partner on his throne but I believe he wants to give oral on his throne. Is usually dominant but the almost taboo of having someone else sit on his throne and he be on his knees is something that always feels new and exciting to him

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had a small handful of experiences with partners before his wife but mainly just one night stands as a sexy young prince. I believe he got all of his experience and talent from his wife. Big hoe with one person sort of thing

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Doggy style I’d say. Being able to control the pace so much and grab as much of his partner as he’d like. Pulling them up to have them flush against against his chest while he can grab at them too.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not very goofy. Can be cute and sweet while his partner sits on his lap and he plays with them but never really goofy. Usually pretty serious in the heat of the moment but can switch to sweet and soft quickly.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Very groomed and sparse golden hair

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It depends. He likes to fuck hard and isn’t usually very romantic in the act but he definitely can be. If his partner needs him in that way he is more than happy to hold them, kiss them and sweet talk them while he makes love.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Not that often. Barely ever if he’s in a relationship and about once or twice a week if he’s not.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Size and Kingly kink.

If it’s a human partner then there’s definitely a size/dominance kink, wanting to be in charge and dominant.

Would use his power and Royal position to push his dominance further. Making his partner call him ‘my king’ and ‘your highness’ really gets him going

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

His throne or his big royal bed. Wants to be left alone with just him and his partner and be able to fuck however he likes.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

When his adrenaline is raised from either training or battle and he’s finding his partner and fucking them hard.

Seeing his partner wearing formal/regal wear makes him want to reck them, ruining their beautifully done hair and pristine outfit.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No weapons, even a paddle. He never wants to make his partner bleed and he wants to be able to properly control the pain he gives, so hand spanking instead of a paddle every time

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Loves to both give and receive.

When he gives he holds his partner down and craves to overstimulate them with his mouth. His partner will never cum only once if he’s giving them oral.

He prefers to sit instead of laying down when receiving. Either on his throne or a big armchair. Loves to look down onto his partner and stroke their hair and talk dirty. He isn’t opposed to face fucking but prefers his partner take their time so he can tease them while they pleasure him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Fast and rough when he’s fucking but slow and sensual with oral

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

The version of quickies that he likes is dragging his partner away to somewhere quiet and using his fingers and hands to make them cum before going about his day. Sometimes he likes to see how many times he can quickly make them cum between duties.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Doesn’t really like to take many risks. He is king and while he likes to degrade his partner at times, he does keep his focus on keeping them safe and away from prying eyes.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He will go as many rounds as his partner can take. If he takes a human partner he likes to go until they just pass out from pleasure. Can hold off from cumming for a long time but also doesn’t really have much of a refraction period so he can just keep going and going

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

The only toy he really has are plugs because he likes to bring his partner pleasure himself. Will put the plug in his partner and make them wear it at a fancy event.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Loooovvvveeesss to tease. The teasing is done with light touches and whispered words in public. Drive his partner crazy while he acts so innocent and will never be caught in what he’s doing

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Lots of powerful grunts and looottttsss of dirty talk. He growls pretty loud when he cums but mainly lots of grunts and groans.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

If his partner is more of a casual thing he’d never be submissive but if he’s in a committed relationship with someone he loves to be taken care of in a submissive position. If his partner is AFAB he will want to get pegged and will want to suck and lick their strap.

In a committed relationship he loves his partner to be a soft dom every now and then. Not often, probably like once or twice a year.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

A lot longer then average but pretty average width

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

When not in a relationship it’s about average but in a relationship it goes right up. Wanting to fuck like every second day or something.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Not that quickly at all. Will always wait until his partner falls asleep and is asleep for about 15-20 minutes before he even tries to drift off

#Thranduil #Thranduil x reader #Thranduil imagine #Thranduil x oc #the hobbit #the hobbit imagine #Thranduil fan fiction

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mimi-0007 · 9 months ago

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FATHER & SON: James Earl Jones with his Father Robert Earl Jones on Stage in the 1962 Production "Moon on a Rainbow Shawl."

Robert Earl Jones (February 3, 1910 – September 7, 2006), sometimes credited as Earl Jones, was an American actor and professional boxer. One of the first prominent Black film stars, Jones was a living link with the Harlem Renaissance of the 1920s and 1930s, having worked with Langston Hughes early in his career.

Jones was best known for his leading roles in films such as Lying Lips (1939) and later in his career for supporting roles in films such as The Sting (1973), Trading Places (1983), The Cotton Club (1984), and Witness (1985).

Jones was born in northwestern Mississippi; the specific location is unclear as some sources indicate Senatobia, while others suggest nearby Coldwater. He left school at an early age to work as a sharecropper to help his family. He later became a prizefighter. Under the name "Battling Bill Stovall", he was a sparring partner of Joe Louis.

Jones became interested in theater after he moved to Chicago, as one of the thousands leaving the South in the Great Migration. He moved on to New York by the 1930s. He worked with young people in the Works Progress Administration, the largest New Deal agency, through which he met Langston Hughes, a young poet and playwright. Hughes cast him in his 1938 play, Don't You Want to Be Free?.

Jones also entered the film business, appearing in more than twenty films. His film career started with the leading role of a detective in the 1939 race film Lying Lips, written and directed by Oscar Micheaux, and Jones made his next screen appearance in Micheaux's The Notorious Elinor Lee (1940). Jones acted mostly in crime movies and dramas after that, with such highlights as Wild River (1960) and One Potato, Two Potato (1964). In the Oscar-winning 1973 film The Sting, he played Luther Coleman, an aging grifter whose con is requited with murder leading to the eponymous "sting". In the later 20th century, Jones appeared in several other noted films: Trading Places (1983) and Witness (1985).

Toward the end of his life, Jones was noted for his stage portrayal of Creon in The Gospel at Colonus (1988), a black musical version of the Oedipus legend. He also appeared in episodes of the long-running TV shows Lou Grant and Kojak. One of his last stage roles was in a 1991 Broadway production of Mule Bone by Hughes and Zora Neale Hurston, another important writer of the Harlem Renaissance. His last film was Rain Without Thunder (1993).

Although blacklisted by the House Un-American Activities Committee in the 1950s due to involvement with leftist groups, Jones was ultimately honored with a lifetime achievement award by the U.S. National Black Theatre Festival.

Jones was married three times. As a young man, he married Ruth Connolly (died 1986) in 1929; they had a son, James Earl Jones. Jones and Connolly separated before James was born in 1931, and the couple divorced in 1933. Jones did not come to know his son until the mid-1950s. He adopted a second son, Matthew Earl Jones. Jones died on September 7, 2006, in Englewood, New Jersey, from natural causes at age 96.

THEATRE

1945 The Hasty Heart (Blossom) Hudson Theatre, Broadway

1945 Strange Fruit (Henry) McIntosh NY theater production

1948 Volpone (Commendatori) City Center

1948 Set My People Free (Ned Bennett) Hudson Theatre, Broadway

1949 Caesar and Cleopatra (Nubian Slave) National Theatre, Broadway

1952 Fancy Meeting You Again (Second Nubian) Royale Theatre, Broadway

1956 Mister Johnson (Moma) Martin Beck Theater, Broadway

1962 Infidel Caesar (Soldier) Music Box Theater, Broadway

1962 The Moon Besieged (Shields Green) Lyceum Theatre, Broadway

1962 Moon on a Rainbow Shawl (Charlie Adams) East 11th Street Theatre, New York

1968 More Stately Mansions (Cato) Broadhurst Theatre, Broadway

1975 All God's Chillun Got Wings (Street Person) Circle in the Square Theatre, Broadway

1975 Death of a Salesman (Charley)

1977 Unexpected Guests (Man) Little Theatre, Broadway

1988 The Gospel at Colonus (Creon) Lunt-Fontanne Theatre, Broadway

1991 Mule Bone (Willie Lewis) Ethel Barrymore Theatre, Broadway

FILMS

1939 Lying Lips (Detective Wenzer )

1940 The Notorious Elinor Lee (Benny Blue)

1959 Odds Against Tomorrow (Club Employee uncredited)

1960 Wild River (Sam Johnson uncredited)

1960 The Secret of the Purple Reef (Tobias)

1964 Terror in the City (Farmer)

1964 One Potato, Two Potato (William Richards)

1968 Hang 'Em High

1971 Mississippi Summer (Performer)

1973 The Sting (Luther Coleman)

1974 Cockfighter (Buford)

1977 Proof of the Man (Wilshire Hayward )

1982 Cold River (The Trapper)

1983 Trading Places (Attendant)

1983 Sleepaway Camp (Ben)

1984 The Cotton Club (Stage Door Joe)

1984 Billions for Boris (Grandaddy)

1985 Witness (Custodian)

1988 Starlight: A Musical Movie (Joe)

1990 Maniac Cop 2 (Harry)

1993 Rain Without Thunder (Old Lawyer)

TELEVISION

1964 The Defenders (Joe Dean) Episode: The Brother Killers

1976 Kojak (Judge) Episode: Where to Go if you Have Nowhere to Go?

1977 The Displaced Person (Astor) Television movie

1978 Lou Grant (Earl Humphrey) Episode: Renewal

1979 Jennifer's Journey (Reuven )Television movie

1980 Oye Ollie (Performer) Television series

1981 The Sophisticated Gents (Big Ralph Joplin) 3 episodes

1982 One Life to Live

1985 Great Performances (Creon) Episode: The Gospel at Colonus

1990 True Blue (Performer) Episode: Blue Monday

#james earl jones #black tumblr #black literature #black community #black excellence #blackexcellence365 #actor #robert earl jones #stage actor

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aurumalatus · 5 months ago

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𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐰

pairing. xiao x fem!reader

word count. 4.7k

genre/warnings. royal!au, magic!au, heavy angst, major character death, reblogs/interaction highly appreciated!

summary.

Your fingers intertwine with his. “I know, Xiao. I know.” He wonders if you really do know. He wonders if you know that he only remembers what it feels like to exist—to be—when you’re looking at him. He wonders if you understand that he would trade his life for yours in a heartbeat, that even since becoming familiar with power and status and things finer than he deserves, all he’s ever wanted is you. All he’ll ever want is you.

It’s become something of a routine.

In the dead of night, you creep across the thick carpet of your room, skirts sliding against fur, until you reach the heavy wood of your door. The thing had always had a wicked creak to it, but you’ve since mastered the art of opening it silently; years of practice had done you some good. It swings open easily enough, revealing the empty hallway to your squinted eyes.

“Xiao,” you murmur through the crack. A soft silver light spills into your room, courtesy of the small magical bulbs lining the halls that invite a lustrous glow into the castle. You’d asked Guizhong to have those installed a few years ago after you saw her displaying her abilities in the courtyard. She’d laughed, finding it ridiculous that a Wizard Sovereign was being given such a mundane task, but indulged you anyway.

The young yaksha responds quickly to your call of his name, as he always does. He bounds down the hallway in seconds, stuttering to a stop in front of your door.

You’ve always liked the way his spear looks at his side; viridescent as it is, it casts a lovely glow on his pale skin and dark hair, illuminating the brighter streaks in a way you find quite beautiful. Even in the low light, mixed silver and green, he looks handsome enough for your heartbeat to quicken. He peeks one golden eye through the door, curious and vigilant.

“What is it?”

“Come in, please.”

Xiao hesitates where he stands; he’s supposed to be patrolling the halls right now, and he just happened to find himself pacing back and forth in the area of the castle where your room is located. He surely can’t justify going off-duty without reason, even if it is by your command.

“Just come in,” you repeat with a bit of a whine at his silence, returning to your seat on the bed and patting a spot on the edge. “They won’t catch you. If they do, I’ll tell them I heard noises and asked you to check.”

“You used that excuse last time,” he says, giving you a disapproving look and leaning his weight against his spear. You smile.

“I hear a lot of noises.”

And Xiao knows he can’t win against you, so he merely sighs before sneaking a glance down the hallway and slipping inside your room. The door shuts silently; over the years, he has also gotten quite a bit of practice on avoiding that characteristic creak. He takes a seat on the edge of your bed, though his spear never leaves his side.

“Is something wrong?” he asks, looking at you out of the corner of his eye. It’s common that you ask him inside, sure, but you never look so perturbed about it.

“I don’t know, something just feels off tonight,” you admit, fingers curling into your silk sheets. “Can you feel something?” He stares at you blankly. “With your, uhm, power?”

The question is so ridiculous that Xiao snorts, the first sign that his serious facade is melting, slow like candle wax, and your presence is the flame. “I’m a wizard, not a fortune teller.”

“The castle feels quite empty today. I heard Zhongli and much of the guard is away on business.”

Xiao nods, having been made aware of the expedition. He had been invited, but had rejected the offer in favor of staying here to protect you—not that he’d listed that as the official reason, of course, but he certainly kept it in mind.

“You still have nothing to worry about,” he replies gruffly, observing how you gnaw at your lip, “two of the Wizard Sovereigns are still here, as well as the other yakshas and…”

He trails off, suddenly feeling awkward. You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, noting how the tips of his ears flush pink. It’s infuriatingly cute.

“And you?” you finish with a smirk, nudging at his side. He flinches, looking away in embarrassment. Truthfully, he can’t understand the sudden rush of heat to his face—protecting you is his job, after all, so there should be no shame in admitting that.

“I suppose.”

You decide not to tease him about his flustered state for once, instead glancing out the window. The moon rises high in the sky, loose rays scattering through the curtains and contrasting the dark sky.

“The moon must look so beautiful from the Harbor,” you note absently. Your hand reaches for Xiao’s, and though his face burns in embarrassment, he doesn’t flinch away even when your fingers fall over his. Instead, he allows you this moment of silence; he knows you’re thinking about the civilians of the Harbor, as you always are.

You and your family are quite beloved among the people; whenever Xiao accompanies you on excursions to the Harbor and around the market, you’re greeted with starry eyes and wide grins filled with affection. Admittedly, Xiao had tried his hardest to keep them away at first with a fierce glare, but you merely placed a gentle hand on his shoulder and told him it was alright—you want to see them, talk to them, get to know their lives. You adore your people as they do you.

The room grows quiet as you fall deeper into thought, and Xiao is overcome by the desire to ask what you’re thinking. He’s not good with words, nor is he good at comfort or anything of the sort, but he’s willing to battle whatever demons are intruding on your calm mind.

“Can you…do the thing?”

He has to suppress a laugh at the way you call magic—the art he’s spent years learning and endless blood, sweat, and tears mastering—the thing, but he indulges you regardless. He dips a hand into his pocket, producing a Qingxin flower that he will never admit he carries around for this very purpose. As his fingertips glow with the magic streaming through his body, your expression glows with awe, only growing brighter when the flower’s stem curls and spreads at the edges, popping new blooms until an entire bouquet is held within his hands.

And though Xiao usually hates when humans ask him for frivolous entertainment, he doesn’t mind doing it for you. He thinks you’re the most beautiful when you’re like this, all star-dotted eyes and soft smiles, so he’ll do whatever magic you want until he has nothing left.

“Wow, Xiao!” you whisper, trying to keep your voice down even though your hands clap quite loudly. “Your magic is always so beautiful…it must be so difficult.”

His lips press into a half-smile. “It’s not hard at all. Very basic manipulation.”

His fingers curl around the flowers again and they glow golden, rippling at the edges until they explode upwards into a small shower of sparks. They disperse like tiny stars among your high ceiling, and your jaw drops in delight.

“Do more, do more!” you request excitedly, hands falling over Xiao’s. He gulps.

“I don’t have any more flowers,” he replies a bit unevenly, showing you his empty pockets. As a yaksha, he’d feel a bit stupid carrying a pocket full of flowers instead of weapons, but the look on your face makes him regret that decision.

“There are some just outside, can’t you go pick more?”

And he really shouldn’t, he thinks, even as he slips outside to the courtyard, but he just can’t say no to you. The night air bites—he pulls his cloak tighter around himself, slinking into the garden. There are countless flora and fauna here, the kind that burst in the day and the kind that bloom quietly in the dark. You like to spend your days here often, reading or asking Xiao to tell you stories. His eyes fall upon the Qingxin, a small patch at the edge—your favorite.

He only manages to pick one flower before a deafening blast bursts from the castle, the ground rumbling under his feet. In surprise, his gaze whips over his shoulder in time to see the beginnings of smoke rising from somewhere around the Great Hall. It filters up slowly, clinging to the clouds and easing a sense of foreboding into Xiao’s heart.

“What the hell…” he murmurs to himself, brows furrowing in confusion.

“Yaksha, sir!”

Xiao turns to see another guard—Donghai, he thinks his name is—stumbling out of the castle, blood staining his cloak and leaking through the front of his uniform. One dully glowing hand is pressed to a deep wound in his stomach, but it’s not enough magic to heal it properly.

The guard nearly collapses at the yaksha’s feet, a broken sob ripping through his throat as Xiao catches him by the arm. Up close, there are even more gashes criss-crossed across his face, crimson dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“What’s going on?” Xiao demands, shaking him by the shoulders a bit to get his attention. His eyes are growing hazy, focus fading like water slipping through fingers.

“We…trap. Inside the castle,” Donghai wheezes, struggling for breath. He coughs once, splattering Xiao’s arms with blood. “Monsters.”

A hot, searing pain like sharp claws rakes through Xiao’s chest, slicing his heart to ribbons and dropping its remnants at his feet. He sets Donghai in the grass, harshly barking at a shell-shocked guard standing nearby to administer healing. He doesn’t stay to see whether they follow his order or not, instead sprinting through the palace gates.

Chaos swirls before his eyes.

The castle is flooded with carnage, beasts growling as they roam the halls and survivors dragging themselves into corners to fade away in the dark. The expensive carpets and draperies have been torn to shreds, walls splattered with blood and dusted with burn marks. The air seeps with darker magic so dense that he feels like he’s choking on it. Xiao doesn’t know where to start—there’s too many screams, too much chaos, too much—

You.

He has to start with you. He should always start with you.

Jumping into the fray feels as natural as breathing. He’s spent his whole life learning to fight, fighting to survive, fighting to protect. But the magic drains from his body at a pace so fast that it’s abnormal—he’s fighting with his heart, not his mind. Lightning flashes of green seep from his skin as he cuts down monster after monster, jumping and plunging and slicing through the air. The monsters are more vicious today; a claw catches Xiao in the back, and he slams into the stone wall, the air being knocked from his lungs.

He crumples, crawls to his knees, coughs, then rises again.

In order to defeat monsters, you must become one yourself.

As he runs past the throne room, he tries to ignore the ugly tear through the royal family’s portrait, the canvas split directly across your smiling face. He doesn’t want to entertain the implication in his mind.

“Princess!” he screams, letting his throat grow raw with despair. The air inside the castle is burning, and he doesn’t have the magic left to cast the proper spell to dispel the heat—it’s all he can do to stay alive as is. Flames roar and lick at his skin as he advances further. He rips his cloak off, pressing the fabric to his nose to subdue the thick smoke filling his lungs.

Something worth keeping is something worth dying for.

Silvery spots of light dot through the grayish darkness, and Xiao follows them. He knows this hall, knows it by heart because it’s your hall. His fingers brush along stone walls as he fumbles to find your door; when he meets wood, he immediately shoves it open.

Hell greets him like an old friend.

Xiao staggers out of the castle minutes later, thoroughly beaten and a fresh scar seared into his right arm. He doesn’t want to look at it right now, though—can’t look at it right now, because there’s so much to be attending to. People moaning for help and crying for their lives, laid out in the singed grass of the castle courtyard. There are medics running about, some from the guard and some he doesn’t recognize. But Xiao has nothing left to give. He can’t save them; he can’t save anyone.

He stumbles forward, one foot after the other, limbs getting caught in the scraps of his shredded cloak. Something small and white falls from his pocket, floating to the ground in a heap of dirt.

A Qingxin flower. It starts to scatter with the wind; Xiao hisses a breath between his teeth.

“No,” he whispers, dropping to his knees and scraping the petals together like a madman. The soft white forms a small pool in front of him, though his fingernails cake with dirt and his body burns with overuse.

“No, no, no,” he repeats like a mantra. He’s already collected the remnants of the flower, but it’s not enough—tears and darkness blur his vision at the edges, and he’s still tearing at the grass with reckless abandon. Someone’s calling his name, he thinks, or maybe his mind is already frayed at the edges. Either way, he ignores it in favor of gathering the flower in his quivering palms, closing his hands around it gently. He’ll keep this safe, if nothing else.

His vision loses focus, and the last thing he sees is the ground shooting toward his face.

When Xiao wakes up, it is morning, and the dawn brings a world so different that he doesn’t recognize it at all.

The stiff cot he was placed on feels like sandpaper to his bones—they groan in protest as he moves, urging himself to sit up. It takes a few minutes before he can wobble to his feet; by the time he manages it, a sporadic pain starts to stab into his head, raw and pulsing. A royal messenger bounds up to his side, eyes narrowed as they read robotically from the scroll in their hands. With every word they speak, Xiao’s shoulders feel heavier. Maybe he should have stayed asleep. Maybe he should’ve forgotten.

The entire royal family was killed in the chaos. The other four yakshas are also dead, having been attacked first when the monsters invaded the castle. No one can explain how they had appeared inside, no one can explain why, no one can explain any of it—it was just a senseless, horrifying massacre. He has been dismissed from his position as yaksha, and is to vacate the castle effective immediately.

As the messenger leaves and Xiao’s thoughts wander to last night, he can’t gather the energy to wonder why he’s just been fired. He doesn’t even really care—it’s not like there’s anything left to protect anyway. He doesn’t find it strange, at first. All he can really do is walk forward, golden eyes staring blankly ahead, off the castle grounds and away from you.

When Xiao walks through the Harbor that day, skin painted in black, blue, and red, no longer do the people revere his arrival. News travels quick in Liyue Harbor; it’s only natural that the people had already heard of their royal family’s fate. Men, women, and children line the stone streets, staring up at the ruined castle in horror, whispering amongst themselves and shedding tears together. They scream at him and the other former guards, jeering and tossing trash that bounces off his body dully. He can barely feel it, can barely feel anything.

“You damn wizards,” one man cries, shaking a fist in Xiao’s direction, “what good are you here if you can’t do your one goddamn job? Get the hell out of Liyue, traitors!”

“The poor royal family,” one woman yells, tapping a handkerchief under her eyes to catch stray tears, “they trusted you!” Her eyes fall on Xiao, and she adds, “The princess trusted you!”

While the other guards curse and mutter under their breaths, some even daring to yell back at the crowd, Xiao says nothing. He doesn’t look up, doesn’t talk back, doesn’t even contemplate a response.

Because they’re right.

You had trusted him to protect you, and he had failed.

He continues on.

The expedition returns that day, bearing witness to the fallen castle and traumatized guards, all blank eyes and flat faces. Xiao does not go to greet those returning—instead, he finds himself on a cliff overlooking the sea, just outside Liyue Harbor. That place no longer feels like home, no longer feels like anything. He can’t stand to be there a moment longer. If his comrades want to see him, they will come find him in time.

Zhongli approaches within the next hour, remorse written all over his face. Xiao can sense him coming, but chooses to say nothing; he feels that Zhongli might be his last comrade in this world.

“Your arm,” he says passively, in place of a greeting. He takes his place at Xiao’s side without issue, still and proud as a statue. He’s always carried an aura of power with him—Xiao wishes he had been there last night. Maybe things would have been different.

He glances to his right arm, to the emerald lines swirling and swaying down his bicep and ending just beneath his elbow. A faint glow emanates from the mark, a reminder of their magical origins. When it shimmers under his stare, Xiao scowls and pulls his cloak over his arm to cover it. The garment is still tattered and stained, and the torn fabric fails to hide the shining mark underneath.

“It doesn’t hurt,” he replies, as if that is a proper explanation of where it came from.

Zhongli clicks his tongue. “You must’ve overexerted yourself quite a bit in order to sustain a sigillum.”

It’s not mad, or judgmental, or even disappointed—just factual. It’s his way of gently prying, offering Xiao a chance to speak about what he saw and experienced. Sigillum are known to be extremely painful for wizards, a permanent mark signaling a severe overuse of magic, and most who have one certainly didn’t gain it by choice. Xiao is no different.

He doesn’t speak, and for a few more minutes, neither does Zhongli.

Just when Xiao gets tired of staring at rolling waves and solitary islands in the distance, Zhongli brings the whole sky crashing down.

“Guizhong is being tried for crimes of treason.”

Xiao’s heart lurches, nearly throwing him forward into the unforgiving sea. Zhongli is strong, one of the most powerful wizards known to Teyvat, but the quiver of grief in his voice is audible; now, there is truly nothing left.

Without a response, Zhongli continues on.

“She was the only one of us Wizard Sovereigns present there, and she’s being blamed for the attacks and her failure to command the guard and protect the royal family.”

“Marchosius was on duty last night as well, he can—”

“Marchosius is dead.”

A slow, wobbling breath flows from Xiao’s lungs then, dissipating like ice into the air. Everything feels unreal, like a terrible nightmare that he will shake himself out of any second now. If Guizhong is being tried, it’s likely she’ll be sentenced—the commonpeople’s reaction has made that quite obvious already.

Xiao knows Liyue’s obsession with contracts. Debts of blood can only be paid with more spilling.

“So, what?” he hisses. “You’ll be the only Wizard Sovereign now? They’ve already banned all of the lower guard from the castle, do they expect you to protect it by yourself?” His heartbeat quickens, sprinting and burning like he had yesterday, and it sends a shooting pain down his spine. “I mean, they haven’t even investigated why it happened. Are they idiots? They think they can fight magical beasts without us? Even one of us would be better than ten of them against a beast, don’t they know—”

“Xiao.”

The gentle, rumbling voice of his superior pulls him out of his thoughts, and Xiao flinches when he realizes he’s summoned his spear, fingers clenching white-knuckled around it, chest heaving with every fiery breath. Zhongli’s stare is full of needless pity, and Xiao looks away with a huff. Really, he doesn’t find his anger unjustified—the actions of the new castle are truly foolish, and he’s unsure who exactly is making such decisions.

“I’ve been relieved of the position,” Zhongli explains woefully. “They suspect that wizards planned the attack as a sort of coup and it got out of hand, so the entire guard has been dissolved. I assume we’ll be replaced with humans.”

The thought is so ridiculous that for a few moments, Xiao doesn’t even dignify it with an answer.

“They think we killed more than half of our own guard on accident? That we planned to let the castle be destroyed?”

The anger threatens to drown him all over again, and Zhongli sighs, looking out at the sea vacantly. His eyes, which usually reflect kindness and mirth, only show an exhaustion far past his years.

“Xiao, you have to understand. The humans…they don’t understand how magic works, how we work. And humans will always fear what they don’t know.”

No, Xiao wants to say, maybe scream, humans don’t always fear what they don’t know. Because you had never been afraid of him a day in your life. The thought makes him feel as though the ground will give out underneath him, makes tears spring to his eyes.

In his entire time in the guard, Xiao thinks he has only cried once.

It had been while he was still just training as a normal guard, when the magic still took heavy tolls on his body and he returned to the barracks every night sore and bruised. There was no respect for him back then, given that he was an orphan, no one special, no one from a revered wizard bloodline. It didn’t bother him most days, but there was one day when it just became too much, and he curled up in his bunk and cried. He sobbed into his fist, wiped his tears, and set out the next day to do his job all over again, as he always did.

When he thinks about it now, a lot of that stopped mattering by the time he was promoted to a yaksha. Things got better after that—people started bowing their heads to him and complimenting his strength, and it felt nice. Recognition was nice, but it paled in comparison to everything he felt when he met you. You never cared where he was from or who his parents were, because all you loved about him was him.

But you’re not here now.

He falls to his knees, head bowing to the sun, eyelids fluttering weakly. Zhongli’s mouth falls open in shock, and though he reaches out, he’s stopped by Xiao’s strained voice.

“If they saw…if they saw how hard I tried to save her,” he pauses as the lump in his throat broadens, and he chokes it down, “if they knew what I had to do, they would never suspect us.”

“I know, Xiao.”

And before he realizes it, he is trembling; tremors run over his entire body, shifting and pulling like tectonic plates, matching the earthquake reverberating in his hollow chest. A hardened fist meets the ground, glowing with magic and creating a small crater from the force.

“If they knew what I would do to bring her back, they would never…”

He can’t get far enough to finish the sentence, a sudden wave of emotion crashing over him until glassy tears flow freely from his eyes, plummeting to the ground in dark splotches. Zhongli says nothing at first, or perhaps has nothing to say, nothing to wane the overflowing grief coursing through Xiao’s veins.

In a single night, Xiao had lost everything he had ever known.

Zhongli leans down slightly, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and pointedly avoiding the fresh mark painting his skin. His voice just barely bubbles forth from his chest.

“You are the last yaksha. Your fellow yakshas, your comrades, your friends, they watch over you now. You must not let the grief become your undoing. There is no sympathy left for us here now.”

Xiao’s fists clench against the ground. He thought he’d known grief for years now—the grief of being weak, the grief of being unwanted, the grief of loss—but none of that had ever compared to the ice-cold pit in his heart now. He looks up, looking entirely lost, entirely empty.

“What do we do?” he asks in a whisper.

Zhongli quietly lifts his chin to the sky, arms crossed over his chest, something like a behemoth to Xiao’s crouched form. A vague twitch at the corner of his mouth is the only sign that shows unrest, or perhaps despair.

“Even if there is nothing left,” he says, “we live.”

If he had just been more calm, thought more about what he was doing, he could save you right now. He would press his hands to your stomach and let all his magic coalesce until you were okay.

Phantom apologies and twisted prayers slip from between his lips.

“Dammit, dammit, dammit!”

Your blood soaks through the gaps in his fingers. His breathing starts to pick up. He’d used up too much magic earlier; there’s not enough left to heal you properly, not enough left to do much of anything. All he can do is watch as you fade away, eyes still warm with mirth.

You cough, reaching out. “Xiao, your arm—”

“It’s fine,” he hisses, teeth gritted, trying to summon some semblance of power to help. It’s not fine, really—his arm burns like hellfire, like a knife is cutting down to the bone, but he won’t stop for anything. He doesn’t even notice the lime glow searing into his skin, marking him with regret and memories that will sting in the back of his mind.

“Mother always said that Qingxin mean strength, since they grow on stone peaks,” you whisper, tucking the flower into the pocket under his cloak. When your hand brushes past his chest, he traps it there, fingers curling over yours so you can feel his heartbeat. You manage a weak smile. “Xiao, you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known.”

“Princess, I—“

Your fingers intertwine with his. “I know, Xiao. I know.”

He wonders if you really do know. He wonders if you know that he only remembers what it feels like to exist—to be—when you’re looking at him. He wonders if you understand that he would trade his life for yours in a heartbeat, that even since becoming familiar with power and status and things finer than he deserves, all he’s ever wanted is you.

All he’ll ever want is you.

“Xiao,” you murmur weakly, eyes glassy and thumb brushing over his lip. It reminds him too much of the many moments in which his heart grew fonder, in which you shared silent laughs in the dead of night and brushed fingers under lantern light. It hurts. “So beautiful.”

He wants to tell you that this isn’t beautiful, that none of this is beautiful, that the raw stench of burning flesh and iron will haunt him for years to come. He wonders if he should tell you that he saw your sister’s bedroom door smashed open, a shred of your brother’s cloak soaked in blood, the thrones tipped to the ground and marred with deep claw marks. He thinks he shouldn’t.

His heart beats in tandem with yours, aligned perfectly in a steady rhythm that slows to a crushing conclusion.

And in your final moments, you murmur three words that have his eyes fluttering shut painfully. Everything stops. He can’t breathe. Your silken curtains shoot up in flames, heat crawling up toward the ceiling. The room still burns around him, books and photos and memories and lives becoming ashes, becoming unrecognizable and irreparable. He feels that he himself is burning along with them.

And if Xiao draws you into tired arms in that empty room and cries, sobs, breaks, until the words “no” and “please” don’t even sound real anymore, until his tears dot your lashes and run down your cheeks, that is a secret between him and the unwavering moon—all that will be left is cinders and contrition.

Everything crumbles to dust beneath his fingers.

A/N. so this was actually supposed to be a prologue to a bigger multi-chap fic with childe and scara (and ofc xiao) in the same universe, but i never truly saw it through so... whoops. but if this gets a good response maybe it'll happen one day LOL who knows! thank you for reading!

#xiao x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact imagines #xiao imagines #xiao angst #genshin impact angst #adeptus ink

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genshinluvr · 1 year ago

Text

Happily Ever After?

Pairings: Various Princes!Genshin Men x Royal!Isekai'd!Reader (Royal AU-ish)

Summary: There was a small kingdom on Teyvat where a king and queen kept their child locked in a tower for over two decades— the public and other kingdoms do not know what this royal Highness looks like, nor do they know much of this person. However, twenty-seven princes set off to free their royal Highness from their high-rise prison. Maybe you will finally get your happily ever after by finally getting your freedom.

Note: I was supposed to finish this fic last night and had it posted a while ago, but I didn't do that 🥹 I do plan on taking a break once a month instead of constantly posting like how I usually do. There's no specific "date" for these breaks, but it will be a once-a-month type of thing. Other than that, I'm not sure how I feel about this fic, but I hope you guys somewhat like it ;v; This fic is a little bit shorter than I expected it would be, but it's better than nothing— it's not a mini-fic. Yes, all Genshin men are princes no matter who they are and what age they are. Anyway, I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: None that I know of

Word Count: 5.6k

Once upon a time, there was a kingdom ruled by a king and queen. The king and queen have a child, locked in a tower, never allowed to see the light of day. No one knew what the young royal looked like, nor did they know much of the child’s existence. Nor did they know why the king and queen kept them locked up. It could be for their protection, or the king and queen despise their child. While the kingdom was reminded of the existence of the king and queen’s child annually, the thought of the young royal was a fleeting thought. A little over two decades later, the tower where the child of the king and queen soon has many curious explorers try to climb up the structure to see the face of the mysterious royal. The same face no one is familiar with, the same face no one in the public eye has ever seen, and the same face twenty-seven men are curious to see.

PRESENT DAY— Location: Unknown.

Twenty-seven men, also princes, crowd around the lone tower in a remote area of a small kingdom. The tower is far from the kingdom, far from civilization. It makes the men wonder how in the world the child of the king and queen is able to survive while kept far from humanity. The gray-bricked tower is fifty meters tall with purplish-pink barrel roof tiles. There is a singular window at the very top of the tower, accompanied by a balcony with a flower pot hanging from the ceiling.

Prince Childe props his hands on his hips, staring at the balcony intently. “Well, gentlemen. Today is the day where we rescue the child of the king and queen of this small kingdom,” says Prince Childe, turning to look at the other men with determination.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Prince Gorou nervously asks, watching Prince Diluc pull a rope from a leather rucksack.

The rope is long enough for the twenty-seven men to use as leverage to get to the window of the tower. Prince Diluc ties the rope and begins swinging the rope, scanning the towering building.

Prince Venti plops beside the leather rucksack, resting his head on the bag as he crosses his right leg over the other with wheat sticking from his lips. “Yer sure the rope is sturdy for the twenty-seven of us?” Prince Venti asks, chewing on the end of the wheat.

Prince Zhongli rolls his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest as he stands beside Prince Diluc, helping the redhead secure the knot. “Twenty-six. You’re not coming with us,” Prince Zhongli states.

Prince Venti sits up, gazing at the brown-haired Prince incredulously. Prince Zhongli turns away and continues to assist Prince Diluc. Prince Venti stutters, getting off the ground and stomping toward Prince Zhongli.

Prince Xiao glares at Venti and lightly pushes Prince Venti away from Prince Zhongli. “You stay down here and make sure no one comes. That’s the only thing you’re useful for,” Prince Xiao states, rolling his eyes.

Not wanting to start any more problems, Prince Venti grumbles and walks back to the leather rucksack and plops down beside it. While the twenty-seven princes (yes, they are all princes. There are no kings, emperors, dukes, lords, sirs, etc.) collectively agree to save the king and queen’s unknown child, they cannot stand each other’s presence. Especially Prince Zhongli and Prince Venti— the two princes are from rival kingdoms.

Many people may wonder why the princes are working together to climb the tower when most can’t stand each other. They all share the same agenda, and that is to rescue the poor young royal from the tower the king and queen have locked their kid up for most of their life. It makes the twenty-seven men wonder how you, the mysterious royal, survive without human contact for so long. Every man is aware of your existence, and they’re all curious about who you are and why your parents decide to keep you away from the public eye. It’s not easy to keep someone of a high profile away from the limelight for over two decades.

Prince Ayato props his hands on his hips, staring at the rope with scrutiny. “Are you certain this rope is sturdy? It won’t rip if every one of us is climbing up the tower using this rope, will it?” asks Prince Ayato.

“We’ll be fine, Prince Ayato! Chillax, my bro! I know it seems scary, but as someone who has done this plenty of times, we’ll be okay!” Prince Itto says, roughly patting the refined Prince of Inazuma on the shoulders.

Prince Ayato sighs, rolling his eyes before giving the tall prince a small smile. While Prince Itto and Prince Ayato aren’t as close, the two would meet up from time to time to have a beetle fight. It’s a small game the two would have with each other— mostly initiated by Prince Itto, the carefree prince who gets into a lot of trouble but is always off the hook due to being a prince.

“How are we going to get this rope to hook around that balcony? With our weight combined, I don’t think the railing of the balcony stands a chance,” Prince Kaveh sighs, tapping his foot on the ground.

Prince Wriothesley laughs and steps forward. “Gentlemen, I got this! Leave this to me, Prince Wriothesley of Fontaine,” says Prince Wriothesley, grabbing the rope from Prince Diluc’s hands and beginning spinning the rope, aiming for the balcony.

While the princes are outside trying to get the rope to latch onto the balcony, the door to the bedroom in the tower swings open. Enters a young royal, yawning and rubbing their eyes. There’s nothing else to do in the tower except to read and sleep. You look at the clock on the wall and roll your eyes. It’s only two in the afternoon, and you’re already forced to retreat to your bedroom by one of the servants your parents assigned.

“I’m rotting away in my high-rise prison,” you mumble, plopping on your bed and hugging your pillow before flipping over on your back.

You have been locked away in your tower for as long as you can remember. You rarely step out of the tower. You never walk around the castle your parents reside in. Heck, you never stepped foot in that damn castle! Most importantly, you have never communicated with anyone outside of your prison aside from your parents. Your parents— the king and queen— tried to reassure you they love you and that they’re doing this for your safety, but you don’t believe them.

You toss your pillow to the foot of your bed and close your eyes. “One day, my prince will rescue me from my tower,” you whisper, dozing off.

Meanwhile, outside the tower, the men cheer loudly when the rope latches onto the railing of the balcony. Prince Wriothesley tugs on the rope, testing its durability. Prince Cyno and Prince Albedo collectively pull at the rope, nodding with approval.

“The rope is sturdy. It doesn’t seem like it will snap under intense pressure,” says Prince Albedo, dusting his hands.

Prince Cyno shields his eyes from the sun, looking at the other men. “Alright, gentlemen. Shall we rescue their royal highness from their tower?” asks Prince Cyno, the corners of his lips quirking up.

The men grab the rope, and Prince Diluc starts climbing up the rope, mentally praying to the Archons the rope wouldn’t snap under immense weight. After all, over twenty people are climbing up the rope— just as long as the rope doesn’t break, sending everyone tumbling to the ground.

Prince Aether wipes the beads of sweat forming at the base of his hairline. “You guys are certain this rope isn’t going to snap?” asks Prince Aether, looking at the other men worriedly.

“Relax, Prince Aether! This is the sturdiest rope to exist in Teyvat. Do you really think the rope is going to snap that easily?” Prince Thoma asks, nudging Prince Aether lightly with his elbow.

Prince Scaramouche rolls his eyes and climbs up the rope, making sure to listen for the sounds of tearing and snapping. So far, there aren’t any noises from the rope— thankfully. Prince Scaramouche wants to get this over with and find out who this mysterious royal highness is. The same royal highness the king and queen of whatever kingdom is hiding from the public eye.

“Does anyone find it strange how the king and queen were able to keep the identity of the young royal highness hidden for so long? How was their identity not leaked?” Prince Kazuha asks, tightening his grip on the rope as he climbs up the tower.

Prince Heizou shrugs. “It is strange. It’s impossible to keep your child out of the limelight as a public figure, especially if your child is part of the royal family. I understand if the young Highness is still young. However, it’s been a little over two decades, and no one has caught a glimpse of what the royal Highness looks like,” Prince Heizou mutters, stroking his chin.

The men proceed to climb up the tower, eyeing the rope around the balcony’s railing. The railing is somehow managing to hold up over twenty people climbing the tower. It’s both a relief and a worry how the fence has yet to break under a lot of weight. After what felt like two hours, Prince Diluc reached the balcony and climbed over it, sighing in relief. The balcony is surprisingly bigger than he expected.

“Where do you think this leads to? Their royal Highness’s bedroom?” Prince Kaeya asks, dusting his clothes.

Prince Diluc crosses his arms over his chest, glaring at Prince Kaeya. “Even if it does, do not put your hands on them,” Prince Diluc instructs sternly.

Prince Scaramouche rolls his eyes. “Relax, Prince Diluc. None of us are interested in touching the mysterious royal Highness,” he says.

Prince Al Haitham grabs the door handle of the balcony entrance and slowly turns the knob. To his and everyone’s surprise, the door is unlocked. Prince Al Haitham cracks the door open and slowly enters the tower, the men tip-toeing behind him. The men collectively freeze when they realize they’re in your bedroom. The bedroom is furnished with elegant, luxury furniture. But despite the luxurious furniture around the room, the room looks barren.

“Is that who I think it is?” Prince Tighnari whispers, gesturing toward the bed.

Prince Al Haitham takes a step closer to the bed and peeks at your face. Prince Al Haitham nods and turns to the others. “I believe this is their royal Highness the king and queen have been hiding for two decades,” Prince Al Haitham whispers.

The Princes walk around your spacious bedroom, looking around curiously. Bookshelves lined up against the wall, and a fireplace nestled between the two tall bookshelves. In the corner are a small vanity and an easel. The room is filled with many activities for you to keep yourself occupied while locked in a tower for two decades.

“What should we do? Wake them up?” Prince Pantalone asks, standing at the foot of your bed, staring down at your unconscious body.

Prince Dottore shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s best for us to wake them up from their slumber. It’ll freak them out and call for security,” Prince Dottore mutters, walking over to the door and pressing his ears against the wooden door.

The masked Prince grabs the doorhandle and twists it, only for it to become stuck. Prince Dottore furrows his eyebrows and looks at the doorknob. There’s no lock from the inside, and yet the door isn’t budging. Did they lock you in the room by any chance? Prince Dottore jiggles the doorknob to double-check, and he’s correct. The door is certainly locked from the outside, and even if you want to escape, there’s no way for you to leave the room aside through the balcony.

Prince Capitano chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. “I don’t think their royal Highness will be calling for security,” Prince Capitano comments, looking at the pictures hanging on the wall.

“I think we should give Their Royal Highness a kiss on the lips!” Prince Venti says, throwing his legs over the railing of the balcony and strutting into the room.

The men look at each other before looking over at the short Prince, who scans around the bedroom of the tower, whistling lowly. Prince Zhongli growls lowly and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to remain calm and not explode.

Prince Baizhu smiles at Prince Venti, tapping his fingers on his hips. “Prince Venti, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be watching and making sure there aren’t people approaching the tower?” Prince Baizhu asks.

“I knew we shouldn’t have invited him along with us. This dunce never listens when given orders,” Prince Dainsleif rolls his eyes.

Prince Venti gives the men a shit-eating grin, plops on the chair beside your bed, and stares at your sleeping face with awe. Prince Venti could stay outside and keep watch, but he doesn’t want to. Prince Pierro rubs the bridge of his nose, letting out a long, sharp exhale. The older man looks at Prince Venti, clenching his jaws.

“I am trying my best not to strangle you right now, Prince Venti,” Prince Pierro hisses.

Prince Neuvillette hums, closing his eyes. “Aren’t we all?” Prince Neuvillette chuckles bitterly, shaking his head.

Prince Venti smirks and sticks his tongue out at the other men in the room before peeking over at you. Your chest is rising and falling at a steady pace, letting him know you’re in deep sleep. While the men aren’t sure how long you have been asleep, they need to wake you up soon to rescue you from the tower. Prince Childe stands at the foot of your bed, hands propping on his hips as he stares at your face.

“They’re kind of cute! I can see why their parents locked them away in the tower for most of their life!” says the ginger-haired prince of Snezhnaya.

The men are surprised you have yet to wake up due to the amount of talking going on in your room. At first, they were whispering, but since some of them weren’t whispering, you didn’t bat an eye when each person spoke.

Prince Itto scoffs. “Kind of? They’re very cute! I don’t know what you mean by ‘kind of,’” says Prince Itto, gesturing air quotes with both his index and middle fingers.

“How do we wake them up without freaking them out?” Prince Aether asks, scratching his head as he peeks from Prince Venti’s head.

There are many ways the twenty-seven princes can wake you up from your slumber. Either the normal way and that is to gently shake you from your sleep, or they can not wake you up. By that, one of the men can scoop you up in their arms and climb out the window with you! But the men aren’t sure how much of a heavy or light sleeper you are, so that can be a bit challenging.

Prince Venti claps his hands, startling the others. “We can do it in a way every fairy tale book does it! Like Snow White, for example!” Venti exclaims, crossing his arms over his chest with a smug look.

Prince Neuvillette raises his eyebrows at Prince Venti, gazing at him skeptically. “Care to elaborate on that, Prince Venti?” asks the Fontainian prince.

Prince Heizou raises his hand. “I believe he is referring to the famous kiss of life. While it happened in Snow White, it also happened in the fairy tale Sleeping Beauty,” Prince Heizou interjects.

Kiss of life, huh? While it sounds romantic, it doesn’t seem to be the appropriate thing to do, given that you weren’t poisoned or cursed with eternal sleep until your true love kisses you, bringing you back to life. Plus, it’s not a good idea to kiss someone you met less than thirty minutes ago— especially when they’re sleeping.

Prince Zhongli glares at Prince Venti and Prince Heizou, crossing his arms over his chest. “Kissing someone without their consent and while unconscious is very distasteful. If you dare to touch them in such a way, I will bring hell on Teyvat,” Prince Zhongli thunders.

Everyone in the room flinches when Prince Zhongli raises his voice at the two princes. The sound of blanket ruffling and a soft exhale causes every man to freeze in the room. Prince Al Haitham turns to see you moving around on your bed, groaning softly and rubbing your eyes. Prince Ayato sighs, running his hands through his hair. Bouncing with excitement, Prince Itto, Prince Childe, and Prince Venti lean over you.

Prince Ayato rolls his eyes. “Don’t lean over them like that. You’ll freak them out,” Prince Ayato hisses quietly.

Unable to fall back asleep, you open your eyes to see three unfamiliar faces staring down at you. Your eyes widen, and you punch the closest person to you. Prince Venti yelps and backs away, clutching his nose, while Prince Itto and Prince Childe back away. You sit up and look at the unwanted guests with fear.

“Who are you people, and why are you in my room!?” You screech, holding your pillow in front of you, using it as a shield.

Prince Gorou shakes his head rapidly, waving his hands in front of him. “Please don’t scream! We’re here to rescue you!” Prince Gorou explains, peeking at the door to make sure no one hears what’s going on.

Your bottom lip quivers as you plop over to the side, hugging your pillow tightly. If this is how you die, then you accept your fate with open arms. You don’t want to die. You really don’t want to die, but if it means you’ll finally be free from your high-rise prison, then you accept your fate.

Prince Kazuha clears his throat. “Your Highness, are you alright?” Prince Kazuha asks softly, debating if he should approach you or not, fearing he would scare you even more.

You bury your face into your pillow. “If you’re here to kill me, just do it! I accept my fate and am willing to let you all kill me like a pig in a slaughterhouse,” you say dramatically.

Your room plunges into a tense silence. You peek from your pillow to look at the intruders, waiting for their response. The men are shocked and a little offended that you assumed they would harm you. Prince Kaveh clears his throat to grab your attention and steps forward cautiously, not wanting to scare you. You sniffle and sit up, hugging your knees to your chest while gazing at the men warily. Prince Kaveh smiles at you, tucking his blond hair behind his ear.

Prince Kaveh kneels on one knee, placing his right hand over his heart. “Your Highness, we’re not here to kill you. We’re here to rescue you from your tower,” Prince Kaveh explains.

“Rescue me from my tower? How are you guys going to do that without getting caught?” You ask.

The men look away, rubbing the back of their necks. You blink at them and look over at your bedroom door. You slowly get off your bed and walk toward the door to test out the door handle. The doorknob doesn’t budge, letting you know they did not enter your room through the door like a normal person.

“How did you—”

“We entered through your balcony,” Prince Xiao interrupts, pointing at the balcony door that’s wide open.

Prince Kaeya chuckles, adjusting the eyepatch. “Perhaps this is a reminder for everyone to lock your doors and windows,” says Prince Kaeya.

You shake your head and walk to the vanity, plopping on the stool and running your hands through your hair. You want to escape the tour with these strange men, but how are you going to do that without causing a scene? You can either leave with these men and never look back or remain at the tower, never see the light of day other than through the balcony window. Who are these men anyway?

Your parents made sure you don’t fall behind on your education— they hired the top university professors in the world to teach you many subjects, but they never mention other important figures. Well, those who are alive, of course. You take a deep breath and stand up, facing the twenty-something men. Wait, how many people are there? You start counting heads quietly, pointing at each man as you do.

Twenty-seven men stare at you while you count how many people there are in your room. After counting, you nod and clasp your hands together. “Alright, I don’t think we’ve introduced ourselves to one another. Judging by your attire, you all are important people,” you say.

Prince Diluc raises his eyebrows at you. “Do your parents not tell you who each of us are? Or about our regions and kingdoms?” asks Prince Diluc.

You squint at Prince Diluc, stroking your chin while shaking your head. Why would your parents tell you who these men are? Kingdoms and regions, huh? So not only are they important people, but they come from the kingdoms that rule the seven nations. Your parents could care less about informing you about the current reigning monarchs of each region because they assumed you wouldn’t meet anyone from the seven regions.

The men start introducing themselves and saying what regions and kingdoms they’re from while you try to remember the names of each face. After ten minutes, every man has introduced themselves to you, and now it’s your turn. You’re not sure what to say— do you even introduce yourself as a member of the royal family, or do you present yourself as who you are? I mean, you are part of the royal family, but you’re never seen with them, nor are you seen out in public because you’re not allowed to step foot out of the high-rise prison.

“Nice to meet you all. My name’s [YN],” you introduce yourself.

Prince Thoma gazes at you with wide eyes before looking at the others. “Your Highness, you’re not going to introduce yourself as—”

You shake your head. What’s the point of introducing yourself as the child of the king and queen? The men look at each other, not saying a word. It’s not like you don’t want to introduce yourself as the child of the king and queen. The public and other kingdoms have never seen your face, and if you were to introduce yourself as whatever title within the monarchy, people would assume you’re pretending to be something you’re not.

You clear your throat. “Are we all going to stay here, or are we going to leave? I’m worried the servants are going to pop in to check on me only to see me with twenty-seven uninvited royal guests,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest.

The men nod and usher you toward the balcony. You peek over the balcony and see an uncomfortable drop. You turn to look at the others, propping your hands on your hips. There’s no way in hell you’re going to climb down this easily. You’re willing to leave, but if it has anything to do with heights, you’re not going to be on board with it. Maybe that’s why your parents put you in a high-rise prison instead of a dungeon.

“Is there a problem, Your Highness?” Prince Dainsleif asks, peering over the balcony before looking at you with worry.

You nod hesitantly. “Yes, but I don’t think we have time to worry about my worries right now,” you say, reaching for the rope, only for Prince Albedo to snatch it from your hands.

Prince Albedo sighs and shakes his head. “Your Highness, if you’re not comfortable with climbing out the balcony and down the rope, we can have someone carry you down,” Prince Albedo suggests.

Not wanting to waste time, Prince Al Haitham scoops you in his arms and throws you over his shoulders before grabbing the rope and climbing over the railing of the balcony. You squeeze your eyes shut and wrap your arms around his torso tightly as Prince Al Haitham descends with you over his shoulders. The others follow after Prince Al Haitham climbs down the tower. Prince Tighnari closes the balcony door before making his way down the rope.

“Okay, so you have successfully rescued me from my tower…” You trail off, continuing to cling onto Prince Al Haitham’s waist. “What’s going to happen after this? Do I live as a regular citizen now? Do I live in someone else’s kingdom? Are you guys going to take me to my parents' kingdom?” You ask.

Once everyone made it down the tower, Prince Wriothesley yanks the rope from the railing before wrapping the rope and storing it in the leather rucksack. You wiggle your feet in the grass and pause, only to realize you don’t have shoes on, nor do you have shoes on your person. You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Is there something wrong, Your Highness?” Prince Wriothesley asks, approaching you.

You press your lips into a thin line. You don’t want to be a burden if you tell them you don’t have shoes on— how could you forget to wear shoes? Then again, you rarely leave the tower, so shoes weren’t a necessity for you.

“Did you forget something, Your Highness?” A suave voice asks.

You turn to see a shorter male leaning against the tower. You blink at the man and turn to the other princes behind you. There are twenty-seven of them, but who in the world is this man? Prince Cyno and Prince Baizhu trade looks before looking at the approaching man. The man pulls your shoes out of thin air before dropping down on one knee, helping you put your shoes on. The princes around you mutter to themselves while watching the man before you put your shoes on your feet before standing up. The man bows gracefully, tips his hat forward, and winks at you with a smirk.

“If it weren’t for me, you would be parading around the nation barefooted,” says the mysterious man.

Prince Cyno sighs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Prince Lyney, I did not expect to see you here,” says Prince Cyno.

Another prince? How many princes are there in Teyvat? Prince Lyney smiles at Prince Cyno and waves at him with a wide smile. At least you don’t have to worry about walking around barefooted. It’s still early in the afternoon, and your fate after leaving the castle remains a mystery. If your parents know you managed to escape the tower, who knows what they will do aside from having a search party for you. You love your parents, you really do! But you don’t see them as often as you see the servants at the tower.

“Where are we going to take their Highness,” asks Prince Scaramouche, crossing his arms over his chest.

The men fall silent and look at each other. You prop your hands on your hips and sigh. These men did not think this through. While it’s nice to be rescued, you don’t want to be seen outside of the tower if there isn’t a plan after the rescue portion of the plan. Even if the majority of the public has no idea what you look like, it’s better to be safe than sorry.

Pantalone strokes his chin. “We’re going to take you to another nation. Far away from where your kingdom and tower reside—”

You cut him off. “And have you all decided on what nation I’m going to be smuggled into?” you ask.

“That we do not,” Dottore says, shaking his head.

You visibly deflate, sighing in defeat. You’re okay with being smuggled into any nation! However, these men not knowing what nation they wanted to smuggle you into is sort of a problem.

Prince Tighnari smiles at you sympathetically and pats your head. “Do you have a preference?” asks Prince Tighnari.

You shake your head. “Not really, no,” you reply. You look around, making sure there’s no one listening in on your conversation. “Let’s get moving before one of the servants catches us out here.”

Prince Capitano, the masked (helmeted?) prince of an unknown nation, leads the way away from the tower. You look over your shoulders at your high-rise prison one last time before turning back around. You hope if your parents have a search party over your disappearance, they will never find you.

Even if your parents know what you look like, the entire nation and the entirety of Teyvat have no idea what you look like. So, that makes you wonder how your parents are going to have a search party for you if the entirety of Teyvat (aside from a selected few) has no idea what you look like. To be honest, just thinking about it makes you a tad bit nervous about what’s going to happen in the future.

“Something on your mind, Your Highness?” asks Prince Capitano.

You shake your head and rub your temples. “No, no, not really. Although I am starting to get a headache,” you sigh.

You’re not lying when you say you’re starting to get a headache. The back of your head is throbbing, and it makes you want to drop everything and take a nap. Prince Baizhu steps up and points at the large tree in the distance.

“Get underneath the shade of the tree, and I’ll conduct a health check-up before we continue our journey,” Prince Baizhu instructs.

Prince Pierro scoops you up in his arms and carries you to the shade. It’s warm outside, but not uncomfortably warm. It's just warm enough for you to not overheat or break out in sweats. Prince Pierro sits you down at the base of the tree and has you lean against the tree trunk. You tilt your head back and look at your surroundings. There are so many trees around you that it shocks you— not because of the number of trees, but because your parents kept you in a locked tower with a few servants for most of your life, surrounded by nothing but vegetation.

Prince Baizhu does a small check-up on you, handing you a bottle of water from the rucksack Prince Diluc was carrying. The green-haired prince starts massaging your temples while you close your eyes with contentment.

Prince Al Haitham looks around, making sure no one is following your group. “If you don’t mind me asking, how do the servants treat you at your tower?” asks the gray-haired prince.

You crack your eyes open and look at Prince Al Haitham. “They treat me okay. I’m not allowed to leave my room unless I need to use the bathroom. They bring food to my room along with medication if I’m sick,” you reply.

The men stare at you in disbelief. From what you told them, it doesn’t sound like a comfortable lifestyle for you. Yes, they didn’t mistreat you, but you weren’t allowed to leave your room unless it was necessary. Heck, you weren’t allowed to leave your bedroom to get food. The servants bring food to your room and leave, locking the door behind them.

Prince Pierro sighs, shaking his head. “Sounds like they’re treating you like a prisoner,” Prince Pierro mutters.

“Do you know why your parents keep you locked up in the tower by any chance?” Prince Gorou asks, sitting beside you.

You shake your head. “Aside from wanting to protect me, not really. Whenever I ask them, they would brush it off or change the conversation.”

Now that you think about it, you never knew the actual reason why they kept you locked up in the tower. Your parents wanted to keep you away from the limelight, and to protect you could be an excuse for something else.

“Well, whatever their reason is, it’s not good enough. The best thing we can do is—” Prince Tighnari freezes, his ears twitching.

Prince Ayato looks at Prince Tighnari worriedly. “What’s wrong?”

“I hear sirens from a distance,” Tighnari whispers.

Your eyes widen, and you push yourself off the ground. “Oh no,” you whisper.

“The siren is coming from the tower,” Prince Zhongli mutters.

You and the twenty-eight princes are in the middle of nowhere in the forest. As Prince Zhongli said, the only thing that could have sirens is the tower. Prince Zhongli grabs ahold of your wrist and carries you bridal style before running with the other princes in tow.

“What’s going to happen if we get caught? I can’t go back there! I refuse to go back to the tower,” you say, gripping the sleeves of Prince Zhongli’s coat tightly.

“We won’t get caught, Your Highness! We’ll make sure you don’t return to the tower,” says Prince Neuvillette.

You and the princes can’t possibly be caught, right? The only people (aside from you and the twenty-eight princes) are the servants. There aren’t guards around the tower unless it’s a monthly security check at the tower ordered by your parents. You can’t go back to the tower, you can’t! You refuse to go back there! The possibility of you returning to the tower is fifty-fifty, and if you were to be forced to return to your high-rise prison, chances are, the security is going to be tight, and you will be under constant surveillance. So much for a happily ever after.

Note: Before anyone makes a comment on certain characters being too old to be a prince (Pierro, Capitano, Zhongli, Venti, etc.)... mind you, Prince Charles exists, and that man did not become a king until his mother died. That man finally got the title of King in his 70s. Plus, I decided to make every man a prince because changing up titles is a little bit hard to keep up— especially when it involves almost 30 men. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist for my Genshin fics: @chirikoheina, @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @toobytub, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @mompt2, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @juuuuuj101010, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @irisxiel, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @emilymikado, @mabie, @vinnie-w, @n8mareee, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @blesstosuisen, @goldeneclipsedragon, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @vox34, @skyyyyackerman, @undecidingfate, @nightlysunn, @faeryminnyx, @simpcreator, @lucifarts-boxers, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, @asoulsreverie, @inapileofbooke

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