is that not MALIK NIAMH FYNWYRIEL? i have seen them bearing the crest of VARLINNIS, their loyalty worn plain upon their garb. they are said to have lived for 36 winters and are of the SORCERER folk, shaped by blood and custom alike. by birth, choice, or circumstance, they walk the path of the SECOND BORN PRINCE OF VARLINNIS, a place they now hold in the world. those who speak of them name them both KIND and TALENTED, though not without flaw, for they are likewise COWARDLY and INDECISIVE.
look closer still, and you will find their tastes laid bare: BODY WRAPPED IN FINEST SILKS, GOLDEN CHAINS AND JEWELRY, THE CALMING RUSTLE OF WATERFALLS.
BASIC INFORMATION
FULL NAME: [ MALIK NIAMH FEINHALNAAR ] NICKNAME: [ MAL, NIA, PRINCE ] AGE: [ 36 ] GENDER: [ MALE ] TITLE: [ PRINCE ] PRONOUNS: [ HE/HIM ] SPECIES: [ SORCERER; MASTERED ELEMENT: WATER ] KINGDOM + CASTLE: [ VARLINNIS + THE SUNSPIRE] HOUSE WORDS: [ FROM CINDERS WE RECLAIM ] OCCUPATION: [ PRINCE, BEING PRETTY ] RELIGION: [ THE FLAMED BIRD ] LANGUAGE: [ COMMON TONGUE / MOST DIALECTS ] ROMANTIC ORIENTATION: [ HOMOROMANTIC ] SEXUAL ORIENTATION: [ HOMOSEXUAL ] SEXUAL TEMPERAMENT: [ SUB ] SEXUAL POSITION: [ BOTTOM ]
RELATIONSHIPS
SIGNIFICANT OTHER: [ TBA ] CHILDREN: [ NONE ...YET ] PARENTS: [ KING EOGHAN + QUEEN ADARA (FORMERLY LYSAIN) . ] SIBLINGS: [ TBA. ] FRIENDS: [ TBA. ]
PHYSICAL TRAITS
FACE CLAIM: [ OLIVER JACKSON COHEN ] EYE COLOUR: [ BLUE ] HAIR COLOUR: [ DARK BLONDE ] HEIGHT: [ 1.91 METRES / 6'3 FT ] BODY BUILD: [ TALL AND LEAN ] FACIAL HAIR: [ LIGHT BEARD CENTERED AROUND THE MOUTH, EXTENDING TO THE SIDE OF HIS FACE, SOMETIMES CLEAN-SHAVEN. ] TATTOOS + PIERCINGS: [ MANY EARRINGS ON BOTH SIDES, A SMALL PHOENIX (THE FAMILY SIGIL) INK BEHIND HIS LEFT EAR ] NOTABLE PHYSICAL TRAITS: [ UNBLEMISHED SMOOTH SKIN, OFTEN DRESSED IN LONG SILK ROBES - SOMETIMES WITH LEATHER ARMOR UNDERNEATH, BUT OFTEN WITHOUT, WEARS SANDALS ALL THE TIME, MANY MANY MANY GOLDEN CHAINS AROUND HIS NECK, HIS ANKLES, HIS WRISTS, RINGS. THIS MAN KNOWS HE IS PRETTY AND DRESSES LIKE IT. ]
PHOBIAS AND DISORDERS
PHOBIAS/FEARS: [ ARRANGED MARRIAGES FOR POLITICAL ADVANTAGE, LOSING HIS PRIVILEGES, LIVING A LOVELESS LIFE, PEOPLE READING HIM FOR THE INSECURE PUSHOVER HE IS. ] MENTAL DISORDERS: [ HE'S WEALTHY, ROYAL, TALL AND PRETTY WHAT COULD POSSIBLY BE WRONG. ]
PERSONALITY
INTELLIGENCE: [ MEDIOCRE SMART LEVELS. ] LIKES: [ PRETTY THINGS, JEWELRY, FRUITS, EXPENSIVE WINES, MUSIC WITH A RYTHM, BOOKS, STORIES WITH HAPPY ENDINGS, NATURE (BUT ONLY WHEN HE CAN CONTROL IT; SO GOING SOMEPLACE TO ENJOY A WATERFALL OR SOMETHING, HE DOESN'T WANT TO LIVE IN IT), BEING DOTED ON/CARED FOR. ] DISLIKES: [ THEATRE, CHEAPSKATES, RULERS WITH IRON FISTS, HIS FATHER, SNAKES, BUGS, EGGPLANTS, DOING HOUSEWORK/CHORES. ] POSITIVE ATTRIBUTES: [ KIND, TALENTED, SOFT-SPOKEN, LITERATE ] NEGATIVE ATTRIBUTES: [ COWARDLY, INDECISIVE, PUSHOVER, INSECURE ]
AESTHETICS
AESTHETICS: [ BODY WRAPPED IN FINEST SILKS, GOLDEN CHAINS AND JEWELRY, THE CALMING RUSTLE OF WATERFALLS, GENTLE TUNES PLAYING THROUGH THE NIGHT, DANCING UNDER THE STARS, THE SMELL OF BOOKS FILLING THE AIR, THE RUSTLING OF BOOK PAGES ON SUNNY AFTERNOONS, THE LITTLE JINGLE HIS CHAINS DO WHEN HE WALKS OR DANCES THROUGH THE VAST HALLS. ] INSPO: [ KINGS AND QUEENS AND VAGABONDS BY ELLEM, A DREAM IS A WISH YOUR HEART MAKES BY CINDERELLA, YOU'RE BEAUTIFUL BY JAMES BLUNT, I HATE EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU BY THREE DAYS GRACE, PHOENIX BY CAILIN RUSSO, RUNAWAY PRINCESS BRIDE, 10 THINGS I HATE ABOUT YOU, THE PRINCE & ME, ]
KINKS
KINKS: [ MAKING LOVE. ;) AFFECTION. ROMANCE. MARKING. TEASING. BREEDING. COLLARS. VERBAL FEMINISATION. CHOKING. PRAISE!!! (TELL HIM HE'S PRETTY I DARE U). WORSHIP. HUMILIATION. DEGRADATION. SOMNOPHILIA. WATERSPORTS. FACE FUCKING. TOYS. ] ANTI-KINKS: [ VORE. SCAT. INFANTILISM. ]
BIOGRAPHY
Malik was never destined to be the heir to the throne of Varlinnis. From the moment he could walk, he knew he was the second-born prince, a position of little importance in the grand hierarchy of the kingdom. His older brother, the heir, was strong, imposing, a man made for war, while Malik was softer, more delicate. He preferred the arts, the beauty of the world rather than the clashing of swords or the weight of a crown.
As a child, Malik spent more time with the servants and tutors than with his brothers, often lost in books, his paints, and the melodies of distant lutes. He grew up surrounded by silks and jewels, beautiful things, all of which seemed to serve as a reminder that he was the one who did not belong to the hard and practical world of warriors. His father, King Eoghan, often tried to mold him into something more—more like his brothers, more like the strong, reliable ruler he thought his kingdom needed. But Malik resisted every attempt, finding solace in his beauty, his music, and the peaceful world he so deeply treasured.
The King would often bring Malik into the training yard to watch his younger brother spar with soldiers. Eoghan would call out to Malik, instructing him to stand straighter, pay attention, learn how to wield a sword, how to defend himself. But Malik was always hesitant, standing awkwardly on the sidelines. He had no interest in striking a blow, even if it was for honor or duty. He would rather listen to the birds sing from the palace gardens or practice his dance steps in his chambers. He loathed the violence, the posturing, the expectation that he would fight and hurt for something as intangible as pride.
It wasn't that Malik was weak—he was far from it. He was tall, graceful, and well-trained in his own right, but his training focused on beauty, grace, and artistry. His magic, water-based, was fluid, gentle, and powerful in ways his father couldn’t understand, though the fact the element that chose him was water only reinforced his feeling of being different. He wasn’t the type to raise a blade to defend his kingdom, but he could make the waters of a river rise in a gentle cascade or soothe the pain of a wounded heart with his calming touch. But none of this mattered to his father. All that mattered was strength, power, and dominance. Malik’s beauty was nothing more than a distraction in his father’s eyes, something to be molded into power.
At a young age, Malik’s gentle nature set him apart, even from his own family. His brothers were tough, both physically and mentally, but Malik was soft, introspective. His beauty was not just physical; it was in the way he moved, the way his voice held a song, the way his blue eyes stared out at the world with a quiet longing. He was born with a natural elegance that just felt effortless, unforced. He just was. But in the kingdom, where warriors were revered above all else, his beauty didn’t hold the same weight.
Eoghan became increasingly frustrated with Malik's refusal to follow in his brothers’ footsteps. He pushed harder, forcing Malik into rigorous lessons in swordplay, in military strategy, in the art of leadership. But no matter how hard Malik tried, he could never fit into that mold. He found no joy in the sharpened edge of a blade, no satisfaction in the heavy weight of armor, no thrill in the command of troops. The more his father insisted, the more Malik withdrew into himself, seeking solace in the arts he loved. His mother, though often silent in her support, was a constant comfort during these turbulent times. Her warm embrace was his sanctuary, a place where the weight of his kingdom’s expectations lightened.
But even her quiet support wasn’t enough to shield him from his father’s persistent attempts to shape him into something he wasn’t. Eoghan’s frustration grew as Malik’s reluctance to embrace the roles of warrior and leader became more evident. He found no pride in his son’s beauty, his gentle nature, his artistry. All Eoghan saw was a wasted opportunity. Malik’s refusal to embrace the strength and stoicism of his brothers—qualities that were so valued in the kingdom—only served to alienate him further from the King’s affections.
As years passed, Eagan began to realize that he could never turn Malik into the warrior he envisioned. The boy simply wasn’t like his brothers. So, instead of continuing his efforts to change Malik, Eoghan began to adjust his tactics, manipulating what he could to benefit the kingdom. He threw lavish festivities at the palace, where Malik’s presence would draw attention and admiration. The young prince’s beauty and charm became an asset in the royal court, and Eoghan made use of the attention Malik garnered to further his own political alliances. Though it wasn’t the strong, militaristic power Eagan desired, he soon recognized that Malik’s allure and social standing could be just as useful in a different way.
He was less concerned with shaping Malik’s character and more concerned with using him to maintain his own grip on power. For the most part, Eoghan ignored Malik, letting him live his life in relative peace at the palace, as long as he attended the events and fulfilled his role as the charming, gentle prince that others admired. But even though Malik was free to go about his days without the constant pressure of training, guards were always in tow, following him wherever he went, ensuring that his safety was never compromised.
Malik found his newfound freedom both comforting and stifling. He was allowed to focus on his passions—painting, dancing, the fleeting beauty of the world around him—but the constant presence of the guards reminded him of the expectations that still lingered. He was free, but never truly untethered.
It was during this time that Malik experienced his first real infatuation, though it was something he kept closely guarded within himself. He had met a young boy during one of the royal events—a noble from a neighboring kingdom, whose laugh was like music and whose smile made Malik’s heart race. They had shared little more than a few words of conversation, but for Malik, it was enough. His heart fluttered whenever their eyes met, but he kept his feelings buried deep within, unsure of how to express them or if they were even reciprocated. It was a fleeting feeling, one that he couldn’t act on, not in a world so focused on politics and duty. He never dared to confess or pursue it, and the boy soon faded from his life, leaving only the sweet memory of stolen glances and racing pulses.
Years passed....
Malik’s 36th birthday came and went like the rest, filled with celebrations that only reminded him of his position: second-born, unimportant, a mere afterthought. The rumors of an arranged marriage began to swirl soon after. His father had already begun discussing his future with suitors in far-off lands, all for the sake of his kingdom. Malik, however, couldn’t bring himself to accept the idea of marrying for duty, of being tied to someone he didn’t love. He was a romantic, a dreamer, longing for something far more than what his father offered him.
The weight of these pressures, the expectations to marry and fulfill his duty, grew heavier. Malik’s heart yearned for love, for a connection, for someone who would see him for who he truly was. He didn’t want to be a political pawn, to be married off to a stranger for the good of the kingdom. He longed for the love stories he read about in his books, for the kind of passionate romance he danced to at the palace balls.
The final straw came when his father once again brought up the arranged marriage to a powerful noble family, this time one that would cement Varlinnis’ position among the other kingdoms. Malik knew there would be no escaping this one. His father was insistent, and the pressure was mounting. He couldn’t take it anymore. He couldn’t marry for duty, and he couldn’t be the man his father wanted him to be. Forevermore.
Late one night, he packed what little he could carry and fled the palace. His mother’s quiet approval, though unspoken, gave him the courage he needed. Malik wasn’t sure what the future held, but he knew he couldn’t stay in Varlinnis any longer, not when his heart cried out for something more. Something real.
Unfortunately, his great escape didn't last. It did, though, scare off his suitors. For now.

















