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naresnani · 2 years ago

Text

Boundless Treaty

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein/Silvio Ricci/Adam Kain (OC) | Words: 3k

Tags: NSFW, threesome, porn without plot, teasing

Summary :

Silvio thought he could get away with crushing from a distance.

Note: I'm struck with the horn. This isn't even based on any prompt, I was just inspired by the recent story event (the versus one). Anyway, I usually try to make some point or lesson of the story even if it's porn, but this one... yeah.... this one got nothing.....

tagging: @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

Silvio will be the first to admit, the long journey to Rhodolite had left him pent up and stupid. Not to mention— Rhodolitian people are beautiful. Each and all of them, it's insane. All red lipped and cheeked and made up. He was sure it wouldn't take much to get one of the women to like him eventually. But fuck, it feels like such a pain right now, the entire courtship B.S. just to get himself off.

No, there is no way that he thinks everyone in the room is attractive. He's so lost it.

"Ah, excuse me, excuse me." Someone accidentally pushed him by the shoulder while a bunch of people started crowding up and pushing each other past the exit of the palace drawing room. The opening party was over, and many important figures were moving on to their next agenda. Upon looking up to see who it was, Silvio recognised him. One of the Yashpari representatives.

They know each other from a certain… foxfucker. The man widened his eyes when he found out he had bumped unceremoniously into Silvio Ricci. Silvio never saw him quite this panicked before. He doesn't care though. "You, get me out of here, would you?"

Adam Kain thought that was a strange demand, and he gladly gave Silvio a look for it. But, he shrugged, and grabbed Silvio by the shoulder.

He's one of the bigger men around. Almost shielding Silvio from being pushed from several directions. With a soft tap, and a short 'excuse me', people looked over and made his way for him. Crazy how that works. His firm hand guided Silvio along, and they shortly made their way onto the garden no big deal.

After the crowd thinned a little, Adam let him go. "I'll have to leave you here, Prince Silvio," he said, with that distinct firm accent of his. "Don't get stuck again. Good day." He bowed slightly towards him and walked away, looking back for a moment to shoot a courtesy smile.

Shit.

"Jesus. That was effortless." He said to himself. Not even gonna lie.

What is this, the foxface rubbing off on him? This what they mean when they say 'what happens in Rhodolite stays in Rhodolite'? Give him a break. And he knows the man is with the fox already because, well. Let's be honest, they're not exactly making it hard to figure out.

Whatever. He shook his head and collected himself back together, before it got anywhere worse.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

The entire day he had to deal with getting distracted—Though finally, all business meetings were over. The lamplights lighting up the rose garden had dimmed, and most of everyone had left the scene after they were done sightseeing. Only one Nokto Klein was left here. They had been going back and forth regarding Rhodolite's economic interests all day long and now, he had been watching Silvio slowly getting drunk.

"I'm shocked that you're actually still at your first bottle. Truly shocked." He said, unbothered, cleaning his nails.

"Unlike those other bastards, I stay sober on negotiations." Silvio filled his glass another half-full. "Hell, probably the only reason I got anywhere with them. I'm the only one fucking sober."

"Seems like you're very eager to get all that sobriety out of your system though."

"What are you even doing here, foxface?"

Nokto glanced around at his surroundings like he hadn’t realised where he was before.

"Oh, well, you know. Enjoying the quiet. I'm sure you understand after all these back-to-back events."

Silvio brought the glass to his lips. Then, he spotted one of Nokto's friends standing way in the distance, smoking. No, not just 'one of his friends.' In fact, Silvio knew who that was.

"What's he doing?" he changed his sitting position and nodded in the direction. Barely concealed excitement.

"Who?" Nokto turns around. "Oh, Adam. Just getting his fix."

"Of what, fucking opium?"

The man himself overheard them. He slowly turned around and walked towards over. "Nope." Adam stopped beside Nokto's bench and threw his cigarette butt onto the ground to step on it. "Just tobacco."

Adam Kain then rested his hands on his hips like he had something to point out. Nokto too, glanced at him for a second. Then the two men just stared at Silvio.

This is horrible. "What, am I interrupting something here?"

The men both turn to each other. Like they're questioning that themselves.

Silvio rose up from his seat and picked up his bottle with him. "Oh I'm sorry. Seems like I've been taking up space around here."

"No, no, nonsense. Sit back down, sit down," Nokto laughed and waved at him. "There is absolutely nothing going on here, and the night is still so young."

"Prince Silvio-" Adam was about to say, getting cut off immediately.

"Look I'm not gonna be sticking my nose up in your business. If you want the place all to yourself to start getting it on, then go ahead." He raised his hands. "In fact, you can start an orgy for all I care."

Adam blinked.

"Well this would be a very lacking orgy." Nokto looked around. Beautiful and quiet garden. Three guys just chilling. "If you're looking to join one you'd honestly be better off joining one of your goddamn friends'."

Silvio paused, sniffed. He drank through the bottle. Despite his present situation the mere idea just dredged up bile into his mouth.

"I'd rather jerk off to a blank wall."

"Ah, I see."

The face Nokto was making right then was just so, so wrong.

"That ain't to say I'm about to jerk off right now," Silvio pointed his bottle at them. "Just so we clear."

"I said nothing." Nokto smiled, raising his hands.

"Yeah, well, where I'm from, you don't need to say much to earn you some decking." Silvio stomped back towards them.

"Hey, hey, hey, we're not fighting." Adam stepped in between them. Despite Silvio having several inches over Nokto, Adam really still managed to tower over him. "I get it might be appealing now, but it won't be very funny in the morning."

This, had just caused a lag on Silvio's system.

"Don't sweat it, Adam. We all got pent up energy after the bullshit we have to hear all day, huh?" Nokto stood up to get ready. "It's only fair that we wrestle or two. Or," he raised a finger. "Seeing how you're acting, Should we 'wrestle' it some other way?"

He's right. One side of Silvio really wants to get in a fight right now. But nevermind that, "the hell are you talking about?"

"I can tell how you're looking at my friend over here, and let me tell you, it's not very decent."

Adam raised a brow at that, and he stared suspiciously at Silvio.

“What?” Silvio pretended. “How the hell did you reach that far?”

“Listen, I’m very perceptive.” He folded his arms. “And he is more perceptive than me. You’re not exactly being sneaky. He knows you were following him all day, and you won’t even say hi to him! The least you could do is consider it. Like a real one, with a spine.”

Silvio’s eyes twitched. "Listen here, fucker. I know what you're insinuating, and I'm going to make it clear right here that I ain't taking part in your shit like that."

"Oh, well, then you can just watch. It's something else rather than a blank wall."

That's it. Silvio pushed Adam out of the way and grabbed Nokto by the collar.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

One thing led to another and they ended up in Nokto's bedroom.

Oh who is he kidding. Hubris. Hubris was what led them here, and a whole lot of alcohol. It's not even enough alcohol.

"Now… unfortunately, I have to ask. Have you actually ever been with men before?"

Nokto was backing him up against one side of the bed. His face all up on him. His breath close. The inside of the palace is much warmer, the scent of roses is subdued to a less obnoxious degree. Now every nerve on his body is focused to this one room.

"Although, men are much the same as women, you know. Some are just too cocky to realise that."

While Nokto was harassing him, Kain was just hanging his coat by the door. "I ain't here to learn, foxface. Sex is pretty straightforward."

He chuckled. "I'd imagine it is for you."

He really wanted to strangle Nokto by the neck again, and of course the moment he even slightly touches the fox the boyfriend has to come by and make sure they're really playing nice.

"Gentlemen, this is a risky deal to begin with. Let's not trash the place." He held both of them apart by the shoulder. “Or leave anything visible.”

"I'm not trying to kill him.”

“Adam, dear.” Nokto peels off Adam’s hand from his shoulder to kiss it. “Could you lay down on the bed please?”

Adam frowns like he knows what Nokto is playing. And, he does as he's told, leaning his back on the pillows and crossing his legs watching things unfold.

Nokto pushed Silvio down on top of him. Thrown both of them off centre. "Why don't you try and get a feel for it first, hmm? Try and act nice to him?"

They looked back at each other awkwardly for a second. Adam placed a careful hand on his shoulder. "Listen, Prince Silvio, if you're-"

It got cut off because Silvio went in for the kiss immediately. And before Adam could properly register that one, he had climbed on top of him.

Stripped of inhibitions, there's truly something unique with how men feels and tastes and how in the right hands he might not mind being broken down and turned vulnerable the way he couldn't imagine being in front of women. Like something just clicks. Like a mirror is not being held in front of him constantly.

But that's a whole discussion he couldn't handle figuring out right now. That's a whole entire thing.

"That's good, Adam likes being kissed. He's quite easy." Nokto whispers in Silvio’s ear. The bastard had taken a chance at trapping him from behind. "Keep doing it and he might start squirming under you."

"--Nokto." Adam started a warning, but his whole face might as well be burning right off.

"Ain't that right?" Silvio said with a raspy voice, caressing his cheek. "Who would've known you're actually a softie."

"Oh how you would like to know." Nokto chuckles.

"Why- is this suddenly about me?" Adam got flustered and started to right himself up after having been pushed increasingly flat into the bed. "I'm not the one stuck in the middle here."

"Ah-ah, it's always been about you." Nokto held one of his idle hands. "Now, what would you like us to do, sweetheart?"

Adam grimaced and covered his face in his hand. "Hng… No need to ask me that."

"Hey," Nokto smiled closer. "You know that’s a dangerous answer, because then I'll do whatever I want…."

Klein is a relentless tease and an unstoppable force, but you can tell that's all there is to it. Teasing.

"Adam is a freak, you don't have to worry about him," he kissed the back of Silvio's neck, sending gross shivers down his spine. "Just don't be too mean, okay?"

Yeah, here is the thing. These fuckers trusts each other with their lives. They're ganging up on Kain right now but Silvio is really the one being held up at the end of the plank. He's the one who's humiliation is being watched for amusement. And honestly,

That's kinda hot.

"Now, why don't you try to make him relax? because he's still quite tetchy right now." Nokto wrapped his fingers around Silvio's chin. Every time he whispers the movement of his lips grazes the nape of his neck. "He's a bit sensitive on the neck…."

"Nokt-" Adam shut up immediately as Silvio began nuzzling the corner of his neck and shoulder. He kept pushing away when he started kissing and nibbling, and Nokto had to pin him down by kissing him on the lips.

"What part do you really like about him, Ricci?" Nokto asked, looking directly at Adam. "His handsome face? His voice?"

"Fuck, I'll be honest." He rose up a bit, so he's able to see Adam better in entirety. "I want him on top of me."

Somehow, you can see Adam's face goes visibly redder.

Nokto whistled. "I didn't know that about you. Turns out you like getting fucked."

Tch. "And what of it?" He roams his hand towards the buttons of Adam's shirt. "But if he likes it different then I'll treat him different." He smiles. He's starting to derive great pleasure at watching the man's reaction to all the teasing.

"Yeah. You see, his dick can't stay hard for too long." Nokto grins.

"My God." Adam covered his face at yet another session of bullying. "Is that necessary?"

Nokto laughed, kissed his cheek between the gaps of his fingers, and whispered to him sweet nothings. "You're perfect. That's right, keep undressing him."

Silvio did as he's told, which gave him great disappointment that he is indeed doing what he's told, naturally, without questions.

"Have you sucked cock before?" Nokto, again, shamelessly asked. They have eventually gained access to each other's skin, and all their pits and spots and ugliness. And their warmth. "It's not as submissive as you think."

"Go ahead and get smug over sucking cock." Silvio closed his eyes and let his tongue glide over the head of Kain's dick. He’s not unfamiliar with sucking a sex part, and definitely not unfamiliar with getting sucked himself. The smell and taste is all the same. Just different. And he does all the same things before letting it slide into his mouth, gently sucking the soft exposed tip.

Adam is terribly good at keeping quiet, but his entire body jolted in surprise.

"Not bad… that's not bad." Nokto strokes Adam's hair while he watches his eyes flutter close. "I knew you had it in you. Why do you keep your voice down, darling?"

Adam answered with an annoyed grunt, and he reached his arm around the prince. "... Nokto."

Nokto still sometimes got genuinely shocked when Adam asked to be kissed like that. And he did comply tenderly, tracing his tongue in his mouth, his lips, feeling his body squirm and writhe and his breathing gets shorter and faster.

"Tsk, Ricci… You got him all sensitive already. You’re doing too great." Nokto reached somewhere over the bedside table. "Why don't you start wetting his hole?"

Some sort of cream landed on Silvio's hand. With surprising intimacy, Nokto guided his fingers slowly over Kain's opening, and his other hand to bend one of Kain's thigh upwards. He leaned into him fully for the first time, his erection warm and thick over his backside. Silvio could feel himself leaking already. He never felt quite as debauched, quite as hot.

"I doubt you've gone the length my friend did to keep himself clean. You mind this at all?" Nokto grinded the length of his dick between Silvio's thighs, stroking that sweet spot under him so directly.

"Fuck, yes, whatever," he panted, Adam catching his body forward. "Do it."

"Be gentle with him." Nokto pushed Silvio's finger past Kain's entrance, and he could feel the soft walls around it. "And this is the spot every guy will go crazy for."

As soon as Silvio found it, Adam gripped the bedsheets tighter.

"Okay…." He somehow couldn't look Kain straight in the eyes, but he still wanted to impress him. "Okay, shit, yeah."

He slowly lined himself up with Kain's entrance. As soon as he passed it, he pushed deeper with each thrust. His walls wrapped perfectly around his cock, sucking him in. He pressed Kain's knee deeper to his chest, each thrust pushing him closer to bending him in half. His chest met his, eventually. Silvio remembered that Adam liked his neck being kissed, so his mouth caught the same spot between his neck and his shoulder. And Silvio still won't look him in the eye.

Kain whines with each trembling breath, it must be working. He’s moaning so quietly, only Silvio could hear it right beside his ears. He grabbed Silvio's back for support. He let slip some audible moans eventually.

Nokto was warming Silvio’s back with his lips, and he made him shudder everytime his dick fucked between Silvio's lubed ass. Silvio's hips thrusted back into him more than he thought he would. It pressed inside a different form of pleasure than the one getting sucked out from his cock. The fox indirectly guided their rhythm. He was fucking both of them. His hands roamed around his chest. Moans started to creep up louder from Silvio as his toes started to curl, his fingers holding on to Kain's shoulders, his body spasming as he chased the relief, the relief, the relief.

He spilled over inside Kain, as he did not realise Kain had came just before. His cock was untouched. His head was bent down, his face was hidden behind on Silvio’s shoulder, and his panting was loud and deep.

"Ahh, that's so cute… You lasted as long as him." Nokto was panting too, his erection still standing and his teeth bitten into him. "Maybe… it's meant to be?"

"Fox—fuck, just– keep going."

"Ah, damn… I can't say no to that."

Silvio accidentally stared into Kain’s eyes. They accidentally stared at each other. He looked fine and content. Silvio shouldn’t need to hope to impress. He's holding Silvio close as Nokto was fucking him until he's done. Everything is warm, filled, and empty. Everything falls into place.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Silvio woke up, in the morning, and he was still in Nokto's room. Kain was nowhere to be seen. But the empty space on the bed was still warm.

The fox was curled up facing away from him. His breath steady. His back vulnerable. He didn't look like he's about to wake up anytime soon, at all. He's just comfortably still, sleeping.

Silvio rose up from the bed. He has had a worse headache before.

"Shit."

This better not happen again.

#Thanks you for reading. you little.... you little.. litel horny shit #sorry.#Silvio got to me #ikepri #ikepri fanfiction #ikepri oc #ikepri adam #ikepri nokto #ikepri silvio

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naresnani · 2 years ago

Text

on Violence

Chapter 6

Chapters: [1] , [2], [3], [4], [5], [6]

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain | Words: 2k

Tags: Scriptfic, screenplay format, Political stuff, Slow burn, Route spoilers

Summary :

Some interviews are in order.

tagging: @altairring @tiny-wooden-robot @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

notes: this chapter made me go AAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH insane but eventually i finished it. somehow. Through many sleepless nights

EXT. PALACE GARDEN - MORNING

Dawn breaks. Pinkish orange clouds are painted on dark blue sky.

There’s a strange uncaring peacefulness in the city and palace. Besides the ones involved, no one else in the world really knows or cares about what just happened a couple hours earlier. Dews dots the blooming rose petals. A ladybug crawls across. Birds take flight through the sky.

Footsteps descend the palace’s stairs towards the garden.

It’s Nokto Klein. Obviously, he hadn’t slept at all. He’s not looking to sleep either. He’s all up in his head, barely conscious of his surroundings, thinking God knows how many number of things in his head. Despite this, he seems to be enjoying himself.

It should be implied that he had just gotten the scolding of a lifetime. From Chevalier, of course, who else. And now he's walking away a changed man. (or, likely, he’s stress-smiling through it all.)

Nokto stops on one fork of the pathway. In front of him, columns of rose bushes stretch far in front of him. He stretches his body himself, yawning loudly into the air, when-

YVES, LICHT, LEON, JIN

Supriseee, Nokto!

NOKTO

What the—

And where did they even pop up from? The four princes of The Other Faction show up holding up a plate full of cookies, and they’re parading it up in front of Nokto like it’s his birthday.

NOKTO

What is this even about?

YVES

Hey, this wasn’t my idea okay? but I followed through anyway, so be grateful, it’s cookies.

It does smell distinctly like Yves-made cookies. And yes, Yves-made things do smell distinct.

Jin steps forward, full of that intimidating, manly-camaraderie and wraps an arm around Nokto’s shoulder.

JIN

Nokto, guys here thought you needed to catch a little break. Why, getting your ears chewed off by Chevalier after experiencing all that isn’t exactly a normal Saturday thing. It was Le-

LEON

(sweating)

It was Licht’s idea!

LICHT

(at the same time)

It’s Leon’s.

While it’s true, that Nokto could definitely be drawn or depicted with squiggly lines at the moment, he had also tiredly recognised what this is all actually about.

NOKTO

You guys. Thaanks, but I really need to be doing something right now.

LEON

C’mooon, Nokto, not even Chevalier usually works at these hours. You can afford some chill time. Here, here.

He’s shoving a cookie to Nokto’s face.

YVES

You may think I half-assed these but I didn’t. I really did fire up the oven this early in the morning. These cookies are of legit quality.

Yves is also shoving one after Nokto is done chewing the previous one.

LICHT

You also need to drink more.

Licht boredly gestures toward the glass of water he’s holding.

JIN

(lets Nokto go)

And look, just in case, I even opened up this champagne. Just in case you terribly, terribly need them.

He picks up the fancy looking bottle from a nearby garden table and boasts in front of Nokto.

At all of this, Nokto sighs, and makes a dumb grin on his face. He leers at Leon.

NOKTO

Leoon. Come on, spit it. What do you want to say?

LEON

(still sweating, grins)

I don’t know what you’re talking about.

NOKTO

(mock surprised)

No, don’t tell me! Could it be that... you feel guilty?

LEON

Guilt! What guilt, why would you think that?

[Read more on AO3]

#on violence #ikepri fic #ikepri fanfiction

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naresnani · 2 years ago

Text

Lamb stew

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain (OC) | Words: 1k

Tags: christmas fic, crack

Notes: This is for @xxsycamore 's' 𝗧𝗶𝘀 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗦𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗼𝗻 𝗙𝗼𝗿 𝗟𝗼𝘃𝗲 event except uh, I don't really know what Christmas is like. teeheehee

Prompt is 'Warming up together after a snowball fight'

"You know, Prince Nokto. I knew nothing about Christmas," Adam said as he unnecessarily tried to peel open the wrapping of his gift without ruining the coloured paper. "So you should have told me to bring something more, err…special. And definitely, non consumable."

Nokto is sitting beside him in the palace garden. On his lap, being hugged by him, wrapped tightly in cloth, is a steaming hot spicy lamb stew.

"What are you talking about. I can't get this from anyone else in the world." This is the definition of special. He's enjoying it enough as a warmer.

"Well to be frank you can always ask my sister to- WHOAH, this is! "

Adam pulls out the content of his gift. A winter coat, fur and all lining up the hood.

“This is. This is warm.” He had put it on in the split second he got it!

“You always say that it’s colder here closer to the mountains, so I thought you'd appreciate it."

"And I can fit you in it."

The front of the coat could indeed cover Nokto enough if he sticks himself close in front of Adam.

“Uhh… maybe it is a little bit big, huh.”

"No. Nokto, this, this is too much. This isn't comparable to a lamb stew. No… I cannot live with this…not at all…."

There’s nothing more humiliating to a Yashpari than not being able to bring comparable gifts. They live to 'out-gift' each other. He might as well say, 'well Prince Nokto, this is it. I'm going to die in shame in front of you, right now.'

“Adam. Seriously. It's all good. And it's not about the gift itself you know."

He sobbed into the snow on the ground. "I could have given you anything in the world…and it's a damn lamb stew."

"Hey I know this takes hours to prepare and cook. And it's something you eat on your eid, right? I like you sharing that with me."

Adam rolls into a fetal position on the ground. Still wearing the fluffy coat. Face still as stoic as usual.

"Adam?"

"I'm going to go back home."

"You're not going anywhere."

"No, I can't face your family."

"Adaam."

Nokto tries to roll Adam to his back so he could pull him up to sit. Adam just rolls away again, facing his back towards Nokto.

"I can't go."

Nokto shook his shoulder. "You promised me to go for the dinner, come on."

Sob. "I'm going to be such an embarrassment."

Alright. Nokto is annoyed now. He dipped his hand into the snow and scooped some up. He quickly balled it with his other hand and threw it at Adam.

A delayed reaction.

"Aaahh! Not the face!"

"Get up or there's more where that comes from."

Adam rolls a couple metres away, so quickly Nokto worries that he has done this too often. He rises up on one knee and quickly dips his fingers down to arm himself.

His snowball throw is quick but without structure. It's powders by the time it hits Nokto.

"Amateur."

Tsk. Adam starts balling them up properly. "You don't pick long distance fights with me, I'm a better aim than you."

"Ok. Then go aim this." Nokto kicks up some snow towards him, and in that split second of surprise, he hits Adam's face again, point blank.

Adam stumbles backwards. He falls, creating an Adam shaped dent in the snow.

"Hah! That's 2-0 baby! Who's aiming better now?"

His boyfriend, he bullies him way too much.

Adam rises from his grave. Scooping up snow like a madman. Nokto sees that fucking bloodlust and tries running away. Not able to go far at all, he is hit by two big snowballs back to back on his back. He fell on his face.

"Augh, wait…" Nokto pushes his snow-covered face up.

Behind him, he sees Adam running like a train.

"Wait, oh no… he is-"

Too late, Adam jumps and dives towards him. Nokto couldn't even scream before Adam fell on him flat on the ground. "Got you."

Nokto immediately starts biting.

"Waah! No, don't eat the gloves, Prince Nokto!"

"Kain." He growls. He grins like an animal. "You fool. Were you trying to run away or catch me?"

Before he could answer, Adam realises his bad decision when Nokto flips around and SLAP! Sandwiched Adam's face with handfuls of snow.

That profound pain resonates into the sky.

With his face squeezed, and cold, Adam said, "... I yield."

Nokto let his hands fall from his face. The remaining snow sticks to the fur of Adam's coat gift. He stares down at Nokto with a pensive expression. They're both contemplating their life decisions now.

Nokto starts biting again.

"Waah, wait, I yielded!"

"I'm not letting you go before you agree to come."

"Alright, alright. I'll eat at the palace. I'll eat dinner. I'll bring the lamb stew over. Don't bite me."

Nokto sighs and lets his head and arms fall to the ground again. Adam, too, deflates onto the ground, still on top of him. His breath is on his neck. His face is now reddish from the cold and exertion. Honestly if he could, Nokto wants to start pushing him and wrestling him away again, but that just reminds him of a way better, different kind of activity they could be doing instead.

Too bad dicks don't work that well in the cold. On the other hand,

"... This coat works too well." Adam mumbles. He's right. Nokto now sees being uncomfortably pinned down like this as an absolute win.

"Do you think. If we stopped by my room first, the stew is gonna get cold?" Nokto said.

"What are you talking about. You can always heat it up again."

"Great. Fantastic."

Adam got up from the ground. With Nokto on the inside of his coat. They are now two guys in a trench coat.

Nokto holds the pot of stew up front. "Alright. This way we are a team, and there's no gift-competing going on. And we look like one very large dude."

"Ugh. If you say so…."

"Man. This is an excellent way to sneak your boyfriend into family dinner."

#ikepri fic #ikepri adam

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naresnani · 2 years ago

Text

on Violence

Chapter 5

Chapters: [1] , [2], [3], [4], [5], [6]

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain | Words: 2k

Tags: Scriptfic, screenplay format, Political stuff, Slow burn, Route spoilers

Summary :

Confrontation.

tagging: @altairring @tiny-wooden-robot @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

notes: Just for clarification, in my format the underline is for emphasis, while italic means something is said in another language besides Rhodolitian. When something is said in Yashpari, it's actually in Javanese. The translation would be right below the sentence.

ACT FIVE

INT. THE OUTSIDE OF ADAM'S CELL - MIDNIGHT

A warden lays unconscious on the floor. No one dares to approach the door towards the stairs, not even to check on him.

Because, they’ve been told that...

Prince Nokto is inside with his arms up, and a person disguised as a guard had a gun pointed at him. They want the other Rhodolite princes. If anyone else attempts to get inside… it’s his life on the line.

Sweat running through his skin, he could only see Adam standing behind his cell door, having all the power in the room.

NOKTO

You planned for this.

ADAM

...A little.

NOKTO

You’re a bunch of Obsidianites, after all, huh? I should’ve known.

ADAM

No. Sura doesn't speak Rhodolitian. At least she’s willing to compromise with a language you’ll understand.

NOKTO

She?

The person behind him did not sound like a woman. Before he could care any further, the door to the cell block blasts open, letting in numerous heavy footsteps inside.

In the instant that Nokto turned around, Sura had already stepped behind him again, now pointing their gun towards his befuddled brothers that had just witnessed the scene.

He saw Licht amongst them first.

LICHT

Nokto!

NOKTO

Licht, don’t step closer!

Someone steps closer anyway. There’s no other man that silhouette could belong to but Chevalier Michel. He draws his sword faster than Nokto’s eyes could register.

BANG!

The gun’s explosion blows right past Nokto’s ears. His heart stopped dead. But Chevalier’s sword hitting the ground sounds more deafening.

CLANG! The bullet had shattered the sword hilt, missed his fingers by a miracle. The blade then lands behind him.

ADAM

There are six round bullets in the chamber. That was the first. There are five of you in the room.

All attention points straight towards Adam, and his shooter. That small, peculiar firearm produces so much smoke, it’s engulfing the nose, eyes, and throat. Noone had seen something that compact making that sort of sound, much less an explosion. Chevalier, Licht, Leon, and Clavis, they all stare with faces just as shocked. Who knows where the rest of them are. Nokto couldn’t hold in his coughs— Licht wants to jump towards him before he is immediately restrained by Leon.

ADAM

—Five. It’s enough for each of you. Now listen carefully.

[Read more on AO3]

#FINALLY i got out the javanese #it's not that hard actually. It's just that Rama has to use the most polite form all the time which is hard help #on violence #ikepri fic

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naresnani · 2 years ago

Text

on Violence

Chapter 4

Chapters: [1] , [2], [3], [4], [5]

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain | Words: 2.1k

Tags: Scriptfic, screenplay format, Political stuff, Slow burn, Route spoilers

Summary :

Nokto perhaps had listened to Leon's advice a little, or too much.

tagging: @altairring @tiny-wooden-robot @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

ACT FOUR

INT. THE HOTEL LOBBY - MIDNIGHT

CLUNK. CLUNK. Nokto put down a bottle of wine and two glasses down on a polished table top. The lobby is relatively quiet, and they’re practically alone. Silvio eyes the bottle of wine like he’s appraising them.

SILVIO

I’m not getting drugged by you.

NOKTO

Hahahahah, good one.

Nokto drops down onto an armchair by the table and gets himself comfortable. He waits for Silvio to sit across from him, but turns out he is the only one interested in sitting at all.

SILVIO

Seriously.

NOKTO

Come on, Ricci, this bottle is from here. Stop kidding around.

SILVIO

I’ll ask again, and you give me a real answer. What do you want?

Silvio doesn’t back down, at least, not into sitting. Nokto sighs.

NOKTO

Alright, listen. For real, I just need a friend to help me think. Someone... wise, at least. And worldly. Been all around the world. And I thought, who else is there in the world but you?

SILVIO

(eyes twitch)

And it has to be today. At 1 am.

NOKTO

What can I say, I’m a busy man.

SILVIO

You’re the busy one here?

Silvio harshly drags one armchair off the table. He finally resigns and sit down. He crosses his legs.

SILVIO

Stalking me and my friends gonna have consequences. And whose moron let you talk to them at this late hour just to pass me a note?

NOKTO

Who won’t talk to me here? I’m extremely welcome, Lady Gisselle loves me. And anyway, I’m doing you a favour, right? (grins, leans closer) You like my company better.

Silvio scowls. With a face, he glances back towards the hallway where faint cheers and jeers and noise of all kinds could be heard.

SILVIO

Five minutes before I kick you out.

NOKTO

Okay, fine, speed dating it is. And I’m just as good! Straight away, I need to buy something from you.

SILVIO

(raises a brow)

I’m not getting you drugs either.

NOKTO

Noo, no no no, I’m sure you’ll provide, but it’s not opium I’m talking about.

SILVIO

Oh who would've guessed, this late at night, lookin’ in your fifth espresso.

NOKTO

I want something even better, even more alarming. How about guns?

Silvio blinks.

SILVIO

Guns?

[Read more on AO3]

#Hey! i think the tumblr post editor is getting better #i can mass select and change all text into chat instead of. manually backspacing and pressing enter.#ikepri #ikepri adam #ikepri oc #ikepri nokto

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naresnani · 2 years ago

Text

let's bury our face in the ground.

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain (OC) | Words: 1.6k

Tags: just dialogues, just explorations

Summary:

Everybody knows that Nokto Klein is a harlot.

It's not a public secret—they've seen him go through multiple women casually. They all know his history each time he flirts on their lap.

It's probably just endearing, seeing someone throw himself at you. Like watching a performance. And you can't resist because he is a good character. An excellent thespian. He immerses you to the stage and forgets you about the audience, and you only see the light that frames his figure, and his voice, and his eyes looking at you.

It's nothing niche, it's a common play. So, when it comes to them, why does he keeps it a secret?—

Is a question only for Adam's drunken mind.

"Because it's obvious why," he said.

Points, towards the palace rooftop. His movements gotten a little bit more sloppy. "Because that ledge is perfect for birds to perch on, and by nature their droppings just go… basically everywhere."

Nokto spins the rose wine in his glass. He’s keeping it light tonight. He looks warm and stunning and his head isn't thinking of many things. "That doesn't tell me why it's just my window that's getting it all the time."

"Trust me, it's just the birds. I can tell when someone is cursed and not cursed."

Although, it's quite hard now to see faces. Rhodolite's palace garden is way dimmer, and quieter, that the ball guests hang about there more than the ballroom. It's the infamous Rose garden, after all. It's the subtle romance. Quiet and soft voices are heard easily here. There's no music to cover one's head. The princes could rest more easily and spend the ball more casually. They eat and talk to themselves and play cards. Over one corner Adam and one Prince Nokto sat on one of the many benches, and they've set an artificial distance.

It's an unspoken agreement. Almost reflexive. Instinctual. Its causes are ingrained and sewn onto his skin since little.

Someone should just sit between them so the space doesn't feel so out of place.

"I'm actually worried that you're such an expert on this," the prince says as he leans down to pick up the mostly-finished bottle from the table. "Curses should be one other thing you teach me about." He tilts the bottle like he's about to drink it.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, what're you doing? That's way too much for you."

"It's for you~ first and foremost."

Adam groans. Nokto pours a clumsy one into his retired glass.

"I'm too sleepy to get properly drunk." Adam begrudgingly accepts his round. "It's just going to doze me out eventually."

"What does that even mean, properly drunk?" He had finished the bottle and he is now starting to, giggle. "I don't think you even know anything about it."

"I can guarantee you, you don't 'wanna' know either." Despite himself, he sips. "I can get, hmm, grossly out of character."

"That's very sexy."

Adam grumbles as he tosses up his glass. Suddenly the music in the distance changes its course. The chatter around them briefly stop. It's clear that the dance is about to start.

People began to head back inside. Only little remains in the garden.

"You wanna go in?" Nokto pokes him.

"What are we doing?"

"Pull some ladies into the dance floor, who knows."

Adam knows, that in this state, he's prone to getting himself upset over the smallest things. Some of the most insignificant things. And right now he might just be about to get upset over… Nokto.

It's obvious why they'll always keep it a secret. Even within the family. It's because he is a bad look on the prince. Quite possibly the worst look. And he is going to tank the prince's entire frivolous career.

It's because Nokto doesn't even like him.

"You go on ahead."

Nokto stares for a little bit. He hears Prince Yves calling before standing up to leave.

One by one, Adam watches other people leave the garden.

At first, he tries reading the wine labels. Plucking dry leaves. He folds a stray sheet of card about eight times. He opens and straightens it up. Irons it with his fingers. He ruins another card.

It's the alcohol. It's making him so mortifying he wants to throw up. Imagine if he joins Prince Nokto and they dance a little number, and he is being seen with him just once, and he is proud of it because they don't care about the world, or the audience, or of being the talk of the entire ballroom, because it's just the light framing his figure and his eyes looking at—

He wants to fit himself underneath that gazebo.

His heart is burning bad, like his gut acid is about to come up. There's only one roll of cigarettes left on his box. He'd honestly be skilled if he manages to roll another one. He fishes it out to hold it in his lips. He grazes his lighter underneath it. And he drags in the warmth from it into his chest-

"Adam. On second thought, I think you had the right idea."

Adam coughs out the smoke out of Nokto's direction.

"I got the what idea?" And how did he even manage to sneak up on him?

"I also feel too sleepy tonight." Nokto shrugs his whole arm. "I can slack off on some nights, right?"

"Oh." Adam uses his wine glass as an ashtray. "No one is stopping you. Good night, then."

"Hold there."

Nokto steps into the bench again. Little did Adam realise Nokto was just going to rest his back down against him.

"Tsk, hey!" He scolds. He feels the armrest digging into his side, and Nokto's weight on one shoulder. "This is not even remotely comfortable."

"Not with that attitude it isn't."

Adam sighs, he disgracefully rests his torso over the armrest, the corners digging into the underneath of his arm. His cigarette touching the ground under his fingers. They're a pile of wasted out people. It's all over the place. It's not pleasing on the eyes.

It feels like love.

"I want to know more about how it's like being cursed," Nokto said.

This is what it feels like being cursed.

"The droppings, they're your brother's doing. Why even wonder?" Adam hooks his other arm around Nokto. "There's no curse."

"Hmm, no, I don't want the Clavis explanation. That's way too easy. What about the esoteric ones?"

"I have—no explanation that can satisfy you."

Groan. Arm is getting dead. Nokto doesn't want to get up. They shifted positions—the armrest digs into his neck instead.

"Ugh. Nokto… what is this about. Really. I don't know what's going on. I can't read minds, much less yours."

Nokto weighs on his chest and abdomen. "You tell me."

Adam pushes himself and Nokto off lest he's giving himself an injury. "And I can't understand what you're saying!"

It's the first time tonight, that Adam had actually seen his eyes. The crimson is difficult to see in the dark. It's almost a dull grey. Nokto is staring earnestly, something he's very good at doing, while looking very annoyed at the same time.

Adam lays his words out with his hands. "Listen, just, tell me, what you want to tell me."

"I screwed up."

Adam twists his brows. "Uhh, did something happen?"

Brief moment of exasperation. "Noo, I admit that I screwed up with you. And that you might be really, really mad at me."

Adam lags. He tries rewinding it all back in his head and winces and shakes his head. "Wait… wait, what?"

"It's alright. Look, I'm right in front of you now. You can lay it on me. Lay it all on me."

"No. No no no, you got it all wrong. I am not mad at you. And I don't want to 'lay' anything out. I don't know where you got this idea-"

"Listen. Fighting with you is, on the very bottom of my list tonight." Nokto shakes his head. "I just want to hear you out. You can tell the truth. So let me hear it!"

Adam sighs.

"Okay. I'm not mad, not at you for anything. I'm just… drunk, and I got myself upset."

"What does- and what does that mean?"

Adam covers his face. "It means, it just happens. And it doesn't mean anything."

Nokto scowls. Folds his arms together. "... I don't think that's how that works."

Adam laughs. What does he want him to say? "And how do you reckon it works?"

Nokto starts again. "If… let's say I believe you, for now, that we're good. Can you at least, tell me what you want us to do right now?"

Now? Let's… let's lay down somewhere else instead. Somewhere less painful. Preferably, softer—

"I don't know."

"I want to keep talking with you, but I ruined it."

And let's sleep on each other. Let's sleep on this bench, that's fine too. Let's kiss around other people—

"If you're wondering what to do, I'd guess you're way more needed in the ballroom."

"Needed? No, I'm far from needed there. Is this what it's all about?"

And let's… dance in the ballroom, like idiots. Like freaks. Let's get booed off the stage and get some rocks thrown and rubbish flung. Let's offend the court's society. Let's sit beside each other during meetings!

"It's not."

"Adam, just spill it out, tell me. Tell me what you want me to do!"

Let's just get… this profound shame out of me.

"Let's tell your brothers about us."

Nokto blinks. His eyes are dull grey in the dark.

Everybody knows that Nokto Klein is a harlot.

#ikepri fic #ikepri adam #ikepri oc #ikepri nokto #All this shit meanwhile the other princes are like 'yeah we been knew'

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naresnani · 2 years ago

Text

on Violence

Chapter 3

Chapter 1 , Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain | Words: 2.4k

Tags: Scriptfic, screenplay format, Political stuff, Slow burn, Route spoilers!

Summary :

Nokto desperately considers, and reconsiders, the prisoner's final verdict.

Notes: tagging the people that gave the fic kudos! (If you want/don't want to be tagged feel free to send me an ask) @altairring @tiny-wooden-robot @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

ACT THREE

INT. THE KING'S BEDROOM - EVENING

Nokto spaced out. It’s all noise. CLINK CLINK of utensils, glass bottles, whispers from whichever directions. The maids are walking to and fro lighting up the candles. The King lays supine on top of the silk bed sheets. His face is colourless. He hasn't been responding since yesterday's supper.

The sons are told to go see him for possibly the last time. Leon and the twins are here. They stand in the corner where the candlelights don't hit well.

It’s kinda awkward. They’re all thinking ‘What are we even doing here?’

Leon breaks the silence first.

LEON

Did you know, the doctor said,

(looks at Nokto beside him)

That he can still hear us when we speak?

Nokto only responds with ‘mm-hmm.’

LEON

(Shrug)

Maybe if you got something to say to him.

NOKTO

Do you?

Leon glances at the twins. They’re both spaced out. Licht wasn’t even staring at the King. Leon rocks from one foot to another.

LEON

Well. I’d try to think of something that hasn’t been said but is there really any?

(there are many.)

NOKTO

Like what? Guess there aren’t any.

LEON

Something important. Like the most important thing he needs to hear. What do you think, Licht?

Licht turns to him, then only shrugs.

NOKTO

Hmm... future war prevention strategies?

LEON

(sighs, disappointed)

That’s certainly not what crosses my mind.

NOKTO

(chuckles)

Whaat, what d’you want me to say?

Nokto leans his back on the wall. He glances at Licht while they joke around. He wonders if he is even there.

LEON

(making fun of him)

Look, man I get it, you’re the expert in this situation, you’re a very pragmatic one, not me.

Read more on AO3

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri fic #ikepri adam #ikepri nokto #ikepri fanfiction

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naresnani · 2 years ago

Text

Annihilation

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire | Napoleon Bonaparte / Arthur Wellesley | Words: 3.2k

Tags: NSFW, dark au (see notes), rough sex, biting, bleeding, blood drinking, masochism

Summary :

Looking at the former Duke of Wellington, he couldn't call that final state the same thing as beautiful, but he couldn't find any other word more perfect for it.

Notes: So this is based on the... netflix castlevania-esque AU I thought up a while ago, which illustration can be seen here. You should probably check out that post first to make more sense of the setting. Anyway this was also written for the 2022 Napoleon Week event ran by @kissmetwicekissmedeadly (or @xxsycamore ) and Me, for the prompt of day 2 - Scar // “I can’t call this beautiful.” Taken A LOT of artistic liberty with this one.

Also, Mind the tags.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

A gash of lightning lit up the decrepit castle alive. Unlit chandeliers clinked above restlessly making a show for no one while the following thunder hums underneath the flooring. The foyer looked dead-still otherwise, as is always the case. The entire place seems barren no matter how much work is being done here in reality. It is still as hollow, still as noiseless, still as dead.

The only place something wretched could call home. Lord Vlad's lair. Desolate enough to not be disgusting. It's as good as one could get being the risen dead. Only the higher ranks could ever even hope to catch a sight of its towering structure. But there's really nothing all that exciting once you find it. A human might, but for him it's either this listless existence or the grimy blood-mixed dirt of the battlefield.

Napoleon remembered that he was human once. Sort of. And sometimes it's achingly obvious that he was still a bit of one.

Because all this destruction in the name of Vlad's revenge towards humanity blankets him in something indefinable. It's not even guilt nor bitterness. It's something he desperately needs to shake off to resume his path, but couldn't.

Total sensory and emotional deprivation was perhaps not how man are made to live. The intoxicating effect of violence to mend it just doesn't last long enough for him. Pain doesn't last long enough for him. Wounds and anger doesn't. Death doesn't.

Lord Vlad often laments that of beauty. Not everlasting enough, not indestructible enough, not his enough. Especially after humanity had taken away his love forever—burned at the stake for being his. Now suppose love and beauty is something he deems unachievable but desperately seeks for, and that desire is what made all the other great purebloods relegate him. He's too human. All too human.

Napoleon considered. Could what he's dealing with be something… a tad similar to that?

The entrance door behind him screeched an awful sound. The key's few clicks dislodged some of the vacuum that oppressed the place. Something else is now roaming the building.

By the sound of the staggered steps and the burning metallic stench, Napoleon knew exactly who it would be.

"Finished with your mission?" He turned back just a degree. He could catch the silhouette of a bowing figure, prowling slowly to where he was standing. It barely took notice of him until they caught each other's eyes. "I know I will always find you this way."

Blown out pupils, skin and cloth covered in blood and filth. There's nothing behind that window.

The former Duke of Wellington stared from that shadow. Napoleon thought this sort of fall from grace couldn't be more erogenous, this end result of evolution. He wished the remaining half of him would finally submit to that end—no more trace of the former human! But he couldn't find a way. He couldn't yet bridge this agonising limbo and be done with that ineffable emptiness.

Looking at the duke, he couldn't call that final state the same thing as beautiful, but he couldn't find any other word more perfect for it.

"I'll admit, I was waiting for you," said he.

The creature stalked, and finally lunged for him from that distance, crashing him into the wall before Napoleon could draw a knife off his holster.

He held off the duke with an arm against its throat and finally managed to fish out the knife. He boasted the weapon in front of it, chuckling as if threatening to cut its face open, before landing the sharp side across his own arm instead.

Blood spilled generously from the cut. He let the former man sink his teeth into the wound, suffocating his body further into the wall just to drink every drop of it. He groaned through gritted teeth in pain, but one couldn't let this Wellington stop drinking before it's over.

Seconds passed with lips sucking harshly on the wound and the duke hadn't yet gotten enough of it for longer than expected. He realised, Wellington wouldn't stop until he's dry.

With heart jumping frantic in his ribs Napoleon shoved him off with all of his strength, enough to send him tumbling hard onto the floor. As expected Wellington instantly stood up without a sweat, bent over as if he's about to retch.

He did just that with mouth opened as wide as it was able. Nothing came out of him.

"You… damn you."

The human voice that belongs to him. Raspy, quiet. Much younger than one would expect.

"... I knew it. It's your damn stench again. You've been doing this on purpose."

Napoleon’s lips couldn't stop their curve. Wellington spat on the floor and got nothing out but saliva. Not lingering taste from the back of his tongue, not the smell. He groused. Looked back towards Napoleon.

"What in devil's name do you actually wish to do? Get me hooked? Slowly turn me into your slave?"

"What would you reckon I wanted?"

"It will not work out as well as you think."

Napoleon lost the smile. He leaned forward.

"Listen, here." He grabbed Wellington by the shoulder—a mock friendly gesture—and harshly pulled him closer to whisper, "You were the one practically choking me out for it. Don't give me that attitude. I could've just put you down to make it easier for the rest of us but Lord Vlad is sometimes rather attached to his dogs."

Wellington snarled. "Then you know very well what will end up happening instead is you, torn up into pieces all over the ground and floor, unsalvageable—and that's something you cannot afford to regret too late."

Napoleon's eyes twitched. He smirked. "I had wondered if you'd care even slightly if I'd died… maybe you do."

"I care whether or not you've died by my hands."

"Huh. That's surprising."

"I have some conscience left." Blue eyes pierced into dull emerald ones. "Unlike you."

Napoleon endured Wellington's biting gaze. It shocked his nerves into a cold standstill. In a way it's more ferocious the more it possesses reason. Because he could shred you apart better with intention.

But Napoleon had been with him for a while—longer than he could recall the era before—and each day, each time they stood on the same battered battleground, the same village burnt into crisp, he knew that it's true.

Wellington would chew him out for every single 'inhumane' death and then drop down to scavenge a fresh corpse the next moment. An idiot of principle. He never spared Napoleon a single glance before this. Never gaze at him as prey. Never took him apart the way he wanted him to. Napoleon wants to feel the receiving end of that monstrosity. For once, for once in this dull indestructible existence.

That conscience Wellington decided to keep,

"Hmph." Napoleon averted his eyes, almost to hide a smile. "It's unfortunate."

He wanted Wellington to take him, badly.

His arm had stopped bleeding. Napoleon brought his hand up to bite the pad of his thumb until it broke skin and grazed it across Wellington's lips. It caught the duke off guard, shutting up tightly. Some red coated the lower curve. He could definitely still taste that savoury blood all too well.

"But consider… that I maybe do enjoy seeing you like this." He smiled wider. His thumb stopped at the edge of Wellington's mouth, urging it to finally tremble open, tongue darting out slightly to lick the blood off. Napoleon could nearly pinpoint the way the high spread from the prickle of the duke's taste buds into his darkened eyes. "Seeing you addicted. To me."

Wellington's shaky hand hesitated, before it grabbed Napoleon’s to push his thumb further into his mouth to lap up any excess drop even after the wound closed up almost instantly. He couldn't hide his frustrated grunt, flattening up his tongue up to a knuckle, and further up the arm still, cleaning up any dried stain of the previous bleeding.

"That's it… just like a dog," Napoleon cooed.

Hearing that Wellington fixed him with slight fury, shiver, whatever emotion was overcoming him right now, and pushed Napoleon further up the wall to latch his mouth into his neck, earning him a shocked huff from the man. Just having Napoleon's pulse be this close made him shudder. His lips could trace the warm blood flowing under the skin.

Then he felt a cold, sharp instrument resting on the skin of his nape.

Napoleon tutted. "Ah-ah-ah. You can't have what you want. I'll kill you."

Napoleon's knife blared its warning. Wellington somehow restrained himself, letting Napoleon down, his teeth just a touch away from his neck. He could effortlessly tear through it just as that knife could smoothly sink into him, but he kept his lips shut. Breathed in what air that he could gather around to ground him.

"Keep your teeth away and I might- just keep your head on your shoulders." Napoleon sounded breathless. He couldn't help his heart running faster than he'd like it to. "It's not a pleasant experience. Faust possibly won't even bother with you."

Napoleon expected Wellington to be provoked and leave this game alone, but instead he felt rough lips diving in and rubbing, picking, pinching—tongue licking the same spot with the beating pulse over and over again. Arousing a single nerve. It's ferociously gentle. Torturing. Too intimate.

He arched his back off the wall to slightly escape from it but Wellington planted his full weight to prevent it from happening. A pathetic moan almost left his throat. This simple helplessness along with the weight of someone devouring him this way almost built the excitement he was seeking.

It was supposed to be a long game, but Napoleon couldn't make himself stop it from advancing.

He pulled on the duke's hair. Wellington started sucking some skin deep into his lips until it broke the small vessels beneath the epidermis, just until he could almost taste the blood under the thin layer. Just there. So close but not here. He was only licking Napoleon’s bruises and he needed to sink into him. Fits his mouth on him. Something. Anything.

Something hard was pressing into his thigh. Napoleon's cock, leaning into the lines of his trousers. "...You fucking harlot."

Napoleon's laughter emanated. He shifted the knife behind his neck just a bit to remind him of it.

"If we're both getting off to it, can't say it's a bad deal."

"So this is what you've been fantasising about, huh?" He dragged his thigh a little just to see Napoleon’s reaction. "What is this, a sick death wish? A paraphilia? A self-destructive fetish?"

"If only it were so casual. I…" Napoleon winced and bowed his head. "It's not simply lust. I want to be crushed out of this vessel. This… residue of humanity is dragging on my skin. I can't stand what it's doing to me anymore."

"Haah, what are you even…"

"I need undoing." He looked back at him. "Undoing, you hear me? Proper ruin that'll keep me breathing. There's no such thing. Only some that'll break me enough."

Wellington scowled. Whatever nonsense this man is going to give, he knows what he actually wants. They stare at each other closely. "Why me? not the Lord, not the doctor, or just some random wench that you can find."

"Why you. You're the only one that I-" Wellington wouldn't understand the slightest, of course. Napoleon closed his mouth for a second. "Allow."

Closer. "Allow to what, precisely."

"To fuck me." The knife sat deeper into the skin.

Wellington sneered, a tad amused. "If that's the case…"

His hands roamed for the first time. It pressed through clothes into the dips of Napoleon’s ribs, waist. He stopped a hand on one of Napoleon’s thighs to drag it back to his cock. They wouldn't leave each other's eyes out of sight. New shivers thundering in him. Wellington whispered,

"Turn around."

Napoleon kept their eye contact. He slowly released his knife from Wellington's neck, lowering it, and eventually letting it fall onto the floor.

He trusts him with his life.

Wellington twisted him around while dragging his hips backwards. Napoleon grunted by the strain. He pulled off Napoleon's trousers just enough to free his erection.

Napoleon grinds his teeth so as to not moan while Wellington stroked him. He tugged Napoleon’s shirt open to reveal more skin, to fit his teeth into while the man was writhing. He supposed this is the only way he'd get his fill.

"Is this what you were thinking of?" He squeezed on the stroke up. "This is what you wish I'd do?"

Napoleon couldn't speak or he'll let out an egregious moan. He grinded his hips back into Wellington's to get his cock harder. The duke tsked. He lapped up his own fingers clean before shoving them into Napoleon’s trousers and pressing into his hole.

Napoleon swallowed up a grunt. The finger dragged along his walls, stretching a muscle he didn't realise could be pulled so pleasantly. It breached deep enough to graze rub into his pleasant spot, and he let tremors rumble throughout his body. This is as close as contentment he's going to get.

Wellington grazed his teeth on his shoulder and Napoleon finally moaned. His cock and entrance kept being stroked and stretched incessantly at the same time no matter where he escaped his hips to and he felt everything coming in together, climbing to a single point.

"...How simple."

Napoleon chased his release himself by fucking into Wellington's hand and fingers. It felt just like any other one. Could've jerked himself off and gotten the same result. He leaned his head into the man behind him, panting, searching the blue eyes that were keenly watching him.

"You could do more than that."

"Be patient."

Wellington collected all of his cum into his palm, tugging the oversensitive cock to spill everything out. He used them to coat his own erection while Napoleon shook over the prolonged stimulation and he pressed his forehead onto Wellington's cheek while taking a lungful of air for each stroke he gave.

"Take your clothes off if you have to," Wellington said. His breath still reeked of rot that Napoleon wished would eventually also blight him. That beautiful end. He idly pressed his mouth into Wellington's—catching him off guard—while he let his trousers fall, his half unbuttoned shirt and jacket falling off his shoulders; the duke once again thrown off by how much he was giving him.

The kiss didn't move their lips. It simply froze them still. Wellington hesitatingly trailed his hand along Napoleon’s bent arm to find his fingers that were stopped in the middle of unbuttoning, and finished the job for him, pushing it off and letting everything fall to the floor.

Napoleon’s body was entirely unprotected, while the duke's clothes and armour still pressed intimately against his bare skin. They didn't see each other's eyes. They might not ever want to see them again.

Wellington even spoke against his lips, so he didn't need to pull away. "You're giving me everything."

"Yes. This is nothing."

Wellington's fingers danced along Napoleon’s abdomen, his erection absentmindedly resting between Napoleon’s behind. This is nothing but the banal state of being. Debased human body.

"This is what you want destroyed?"

Some lifeless limbo that you're living in.

"Or do you actually want it… completed?"

He slowly rutted into Napoleon’s willing entrance, while his hand reached down to cup the other's softened penis.

Napoleon moaned while grabbing hold of Wellington's clothes behind him for anchor.

"You're bothered by your longing. Means emptiness has filled you. There's no way to escape that for a human."

"I- I fucking realised. –ak-!"

Wellington set a brutal pace that dragged and opened his tight insides unceasingly, stimulating more nerves that spread to all the tips of his body. His cock soaked Wellington's hand, who did not move to give it any attention.

"Hah, poor thing. I didn’t realise all that anger and blatant disregard are… quite literally desperation."

Napoleon’s barely swallowed gasps and moans poured out towards the tall hollow ceiling. His pleasure and pain couldn't spill out anywhere, just coiling and coiling inside because he couldn't let himself cum until he's certain that monster wouldn't keep going.

"I shouldn't destroy you, you might've deserved this torture of being." He slowed down to thrust full and deep, rolling his hips to hit the spot Napoleon would feel his dick the most. He trailed his hand and softly held Napoleon's bare shoulder close to his lips. "But… you could have this from time to time."

"A-ah- just, keep going."

"I know." Wellington bit a piece of skin. He kept up his grinding while relishing the small trickle of blood. Napoleon whined and it's a noise Wellington never heard from his mouth—the cock in his hand got impossibly harder and his passage clenched tighter onto the dick penetrating him.

"- -Oh… I should- really.. savour you."

Napoleon exhaled long and deep breaths. Wellington slowed down for a moment, long enough to make Napoleon realise the hair tickling his cheek, and the hand idly tracing his bare abdomen. The cold air blowing around him contrasted with their warm breaths.

They continued long into the night.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Napoleon whimpered as he felt the heat trickling down his legs. He has not felt this mentally exhausted in a long time. The bed they've moved into creaked as Wellington shifted behind him, grasping the back of his thighs and began licking him up to his aching hole.

"You- !"

He doesn't have the strength to complain, dropping his head down onto the sheets. Wellington could taste some drops of blood. He cleaned it up and prodded his tongue in to lap up any that could've been left in his wake.

Napoleon was trembling on the bed. He couldn't yet feel anything close to what he's been looking for, for any pain that Wellington bit into him kept fading back into nothing. There's nothing that the duke would do to him further except just… making love and making love.

"... You still wouldn't give me what I want."

Wellington laid atop of him, biting the side of his neck deep into his artery, eliciting a very weak cry. He only sucked in a couple rich gulps before immediately pulling out, only licking the rest of the blood that seeped out.

Napoleon had filled his palette enough. He didn't know what else he could do. The wound closed up quickly, as any inflicted wounds would have on the halfling, and Wellington thinks he definitely shouldn't just try to finally finish him in one go, not even if he actually wants to.

The man was probably too spent to continue anything anyway. He let Napoleon roll to the side and his back on his arm. He brushed the sweat off the man's forehead idly. He couldn't find anything else to touch, or to stare at.

They accidentally looked at each other's eyes. It's not as bad as they thought it'd be.

"I don't know what you truly want, and I don't think you do either, do you?…."

Long and weakened breaths. The castle became a silent and hollow cranium, again. As it will always be for eternity. But the duke did not know that during those last moments where he had gently brushed the sweat off his fellow's skin for seemingly no reason, had been the closest Napoleon had ever gotten to feeling complete.

#ikevamp #napoleon week 2022 #Ikevamp napoleon #Ikevamp wellington

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naresnani · 2 years ago

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Updated my masterlist like a Chad

#also can i say that i hate tumblr is trying to stop us from seeing our blog designs anymore #or blog *theme should i say #its the only customizable social media platform out there and theyre tryng to erase the feature so bad #anyway my writing blog theme is so comfy. big letters and all that. nice font #but you cant see it in the mobile app!!!#even tho the theme is mobile compatible!!#check it out on browser hjksdfhkjalsdfhk

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naresnani · 2 years ago

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Dirty Deeds done Dirt Cheap

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Silvio Ricci, Adam Kain (OC) | Words: 4k

Tags: profanities, lots and lots of profanities, suggestive scenes

Summary:

Dangerous business are best dealt in public. Dangerous games are best played without feelings attached.

Notes: This fic is a whole menace. Anyway, it's supposedly for @voltage-vixen and @xxsycamore Summer of Smut 0.3 event, for the 'bar flirting to one night stand' prompt. There's no smut here though.

This fic references a plot point that happened in Nokto's route, inspired by Silvio's bday story, and also was written before Silvio's route release.

It's feverish.

Ringing, in his ears, like standing amidst the summer heat waves, every single time he hears the sound of his voice.

He is the only person here who Silvio Ricci could stand. However, he is also absolutely sick of that guy.

Nokto Klein. The Seventh Prince is the main representative between Rhodolite and Benitoite's alliance. Felt like they've been friends for a long time, even if they'd be better described as acquaintances. Without him, Silvio doubted he'd have any interest in helping the neighbouring nation, since Klein's other kin proved to be some strange and difficult people to work with.

Klein is that sort of man, who'd value himself as cheap as dirt for a gain. A wild card. Trying to appraise him is a waste of time. Over the years that they've known each other, Silvio found that the more he found Nokto Klein fascinating to be with, the more he developed an allergic reaction.

On one hand he couldn't wait to spend some personal time with him whenever he visits Rhodolite, on the other, he's fucking dying.

"I think it's the only place in the capital worth your visit, at least for a simple drink," the noble standing across Silvio said. Rhodolite's Palace is buzzing with aimless chatter, and this guy's been advertising this place like a goddamn salesman. He's nice and all, and surprisingly quick-witted for someone that doesn't speak Benitoitian fluently, or much at all.

'It's a staple. And… they have all the kinds of people you'd be happy to meet with.'

Words made background noise. He was a marquis of some odd corner of Rhodolite, whatever. Silvio never saw him until recently.

The only thing that made him listen, was Klein sitting on a couch near him.

'Better save the date, just in case you'd like to,' —

The prince was dressed casually, letting that long hair down. He was barely participating in their conversation; chatting, instead, with a noblewoman in his arms. It was Silvio of Benitoite's birthday celebration ball but all the women invited gravitated towards him instead.

It's not like Silvio gives a fuck, actually. All the better that way. Nobody to lose him his focus.

"So if you want-"

"Alright-alright, I hear you," Silvio waved the marquis off. "Saturdays, nine 'til twelve PM, special event. It's not like I didn't recognise the place already."

The marquis smiled. "You won't regret it."

Silvio exhaled a long breath. The dark skinned man left the circle, walking with—Silvio observed—a cane that supported his slight limp. He tapped Klein's shoulder as he passed by, the prince reacting by touching his arm and twisting his body to face him. Telling him something.

For the rest of the night, Klein did not speak to him. There's a part in Silvio's gut that tried to nudge his suspicion alive, but he missed it. He's missing something.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

The number one tavern in all of Rhodolite was famous for dimming its lights and opening its doors wide during the weekends. Some well-known musicians would then play on their little stage for the entire night. This often brings a different sort of crowd. Foreigners, out of town visitors, some enthusiasts, probably. People that wouldn't recognise the 7th Prince much. Well, ideally anyway.

This was why Nokto Klein made sure that guy would be there; this exact day, this exact time. No margin of error.

The batwing doors clattered open as Nokto stepped inside the warm scented building, out of the cold summer night outside. It was deafeningly loud with singing and bouncy folk music. Most seats were taken, and the owner was currently whipping back and forth serving the bar. Everyone was enjoying themselves. The usual scene.

He scanned the room with careful eyes, stretching a sprained shoulder, preparing himself. This will be a scene, alright.

Peeking towards the entrance of the tavern while pretending to be occupied by his drink, was the Prince of Benitoite. He watched that guy come in—with his usual coat hanging by his shoulders, that weird-ass haircut and the pretty face—feeling the familiar inexplicable sense of dread.

He'd be surprised by this coincidence, if not for the exact day, and the exact time.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

A horse galloped through the hunting woods. The riders escaping the threat with several scratches. It could've been worse, way way worse. But still, it's the thought that counts.

"Hey it's only a matter of time, really," the prince said, catching his breath. He rode on top of the same horse with a friend, who held the actual reins with one hand. His own steed had been struck by a rain of arrows and the arm that couldn't steer the mare had been bleeding from the very beginning of conflict. "Messing around with these guys, someone would've murdered us at some point."

"Shut up." The marquis urged the poor horse to gallop faster even with the weight of two grown injured men. "We barely got out alive, it's not even over yet. Leave your stupid attempts at lightening the mood behind."

"Damn, way to kill it completely."

They managed to get away from an ambush, leaving some of the prince's more heavily armed brothers behind to deal with the rest of their assailant's soldiers.

At least, they thought they did, before an explosion startled them both and the galloping mare to death.

She reared in fear and frustration, throwing them off to the ground like a discarded ragdoll. She almost stepped on the marquis' body before running away leaving them behind.

Nokto crawled frantically towards the man. Cursing loudly towards the sky. "Adam! the hell was that sound!?"

"Ugh, it sounded like… artillery."

They both twisted around to look behind, where everyone else would still be fighting. Feeling all the blood draining off their faces. At least, the amount that was still left.

Several days ago, Nokto had ruined someone's life.

A snitch had tipped him about some Benitoitian merchants' dealings, particularly some ill disguised large amounts of weapons, most noticeably some foreign manufactured firearms. It is in Rhodolite's interest to track the trades of these things very carefully, because Obsidian just across was practically salivating for a nip of world domination, and they are the folks that know how to use these things effectively, using their large number of soldiers.

Nokto's suspicion was that Benitoite deals arms with Obsidian. An outright violation of their pact of alliance with Rhodolite, right below literally helping the empire invade Rhodolite from the eastern front, if he's being perfectly honest. But the bastards wouldn't admit ever having any business with Obsidian, and they are technically not lying.

The merchants' clients are mostly made of Benitoitian bourgeois and nobilities. They keep their identities strictly confidential. However, Clavis, heavens and hells knows how, had found some information of some of the clients having a history of being Obsidianite in origin, and in loyalty.

Nokto decided to directly confront the merchant's stooges and threaten the deal out of them. He practically stole someone's package out of the supply.

With some help, through some risky, desperate, near-death measures of course, but he wouldn't go into it.

Apparently one client, a Benitoitian nobleman in name, found out about Nokto stealing the deal—so much for client confidentiality—and tried to kill him for it. Apparently the guy had some sucking up to do to his 'glorious homeland' of Obsidian, and Nokto had ruined his plans. All is well in the land.

Except not completely, yet.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Over the tavern's small lights, two pairs of eyes met across the crowd. Crimson, and ocean blue. The rose approaching rapidly past the sea of people.

The Benitoitian tsked. "It's you, of course. I should've known."

"Evening." Nokto smirked, and upon glaring down the person sitting on the stool next to the Benitoitian prince, he secured the seat as his own. He faced towards the prince again, "What, did someone tell you to be here or something?"

Silvio rolled his eyes, pouring another shot of bourbon into his glass. This is the last thing he wants to deal with. Klein. Walking in here bringing some beef. He could tell from that look. He had a feeling.

He preferred their relationship to be cordial, at minimum. Less castigating at most.

Nokto leaned on the stool, ordering his usual. The other prince sneered at him from the side.

"Chosen a public place to do this, huh." Silvio picked up his glass absentmindedly, watching his drink swirl in his hand, face tied taut into the middle of his brows. "Get right to it then, fox. What's this all about?"

Nokto landed on the stool. The owner slammed his cocktail right in front of him, spilling the ice out of the glass, before running somewhere else to serve whoever else's drinks.

"Business," Nokto started. His eyes watching his own reflection on the liquid.

Silvio eyed him closely. Across the prince's cheek, from the tip of his lips approaching his ear, there was a clear scar healing from a shallow cut. Silvio didn't notice it the last time he'd seen him.

"It's my day off, mate." Silvio sipped his drink. "You want a good deal, you stay off of a man's drink."

"Nonsense. You did business on your own birthday." Nokto spun on his seat, facing him straight ahead. "And I'll give you a heads up—you'll not be buying anything from me, anyway."

"Yeah yeah," he waved his hand, "I don't need to hear it from you that Rhodolite can't offer anything worthwhile."

He was starting to spout words out of his mouth unrestricted. Agitated, tense, feverish. It's unlike him. Something tells him the fox chose this environment for a reason.

He couldn't catch Nokto's movements—in a split second the prince produced something from his coat's pocket and a loud metallic clang resounded as he slammed it on top of the bar.

He leaned in to whisper, "Familiar with this… product?"

Upon lifting his hand, Nokto revealed some model of… a flintlock muzzleloader pistol.

Silvio whistled. "Nice loot, that." He grazed his fingers across its barrel. A wider cylinder; credits it as something the Orientals manufactured.

Something Benitoite imports, rather than something Obsidian would've made.

"What about it, gonna pawn it off for some change?"

"It's good stuff isn't it. You have one of these at home, don't you?" the fox grins.

Goosebumps ran through the hair of his arms. Glancing around the tavern, Silvio realised nobody was paying any attention to this display of weaponry. Everyone was too busy with their own fun. He glared heavily towards the prince's piercing eyes.

"Sure. Its something we carry from across the atlantic. Just a tip for ya, it's effective when you point it at someone."

"Oh, I don't need this loaded, your Highness." Nokto frowned. He picked up the pistol, pointed it towards the ceiling. "This thing was merely stolen."

Silvio squinted his eyes. "Yeah?"

"From one of your associates. You must've met my friend already, the… marquis."

"Huh," Silvio replied, racking his brain for some clue. "That cocksucker with a limp?"

"That one." Nokto's eyes twitched. Just barely. "He's the one who got it from me. Can't imagine it, huh? Him, against your sort of stooges."

"Ahh, I see now," Silvio nodded, then slammed his fist on the counter in realisation. Pointed his finger at the prince. "He's your bitch isn't he? What, some Benitoitian kicked him in the nuts or something? Wanna be a nice pimp and take it up to me? Unfortunately, I don't hold responsibility for each individual fucker that sells you things." He pointed towards the door with his thumb. "So if you must, go kick up dirt somewhere else, princess."

Nokto laughed. "Fortunately he's perfectly unharmed in this process. It's your guys that got, metaphorically, 'kicked-in-the-nuts.' Pussies got all up in arms over it and all it benefited them is this pathetic cut." Nokto waved a hand over his scar, leaning closer to Silvio for another whisper. "That 'nobleman' is being humiliated in Rhodolite's jail right now. If I were you, I wouldn't show my face anywhere near the King Highness anymore. And you still have the audacity to hold your damn birthday here."

"... A noble?"

"Yes, your noble. Ever heard the name… Herren von Zollern?"

Silvio's eyes widened. He caught himself averting his eyes for a second. Luckily, he reeled it back right towards the prince.

"I see. I understand now." Silvio bowed his head. His face darkened. "This… Mr. Ambassador here, thinks this is some big political issue worth my time, when all it is, is a severe case of you fucking around and finding out!"

In a fit of passion, Silvio rose up from his seat, almost spitting onto the prince's face.

"Bah, someone who has no control nor awareness over their own court members is barely worth my time," Nokto shrugged. "You know why I'm talking to you right now? Efficiency. If it were up to me, I would have preferred to have this with your brother. Someone more civilised."

Silvio yanked the prince by his collar and lifted him up to his face. The bastard knows what he's playing with. The mention of his brother will strike a cord. Why is he provoking? Why's he deliberately doing this?

Why, is he doing this, to me.

"Fuck you. Go get your fucking boyfriend to suck my dick instead then."

Nokto grinned. "Don't worry. Catch me outside and I'll suck it off for you."

Crashes and clangs heard all over the building as the Prince Nokto got shoved onto the proceeding row of stools. The whole tavern cheered over the sudden display of violence, overpowering even the music. A shrill of laughter was heard on top of it all, and Silvio glanced down to find it coming from the prince. He gritted his teeth and nailed his fists shut.

Several men bursted through the door, pushing their way through the excited crowd in order to kick their asses out. Nokto saw them approaching and pushed himself to stand, reaching up to swipe his pistol off the bar. He looked back towards Silvio. "You want me or those guys to take care of you?"

Silvio snarled and dragged the seventh Prince up to his feet by his collar, pushing against the crowd towards the back door of the tavern, throwing—the Rhodolitian Prince as well as himself—onto the door and breaking it open.

They stumble about onto a dark alleyway, dishevelled, looking around aimlessly hearing the shouts of the tavern bouncers. Getting their bearings, they both ran away in the same direction, like a bunch of city rats in the middle of the night.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

They ran and ran along the shaded streets of the sleeping town, until nothing could be heard anymore but bats' wings and distant screeches of stray cats. Silvio, slowing down to catch his breath, heard that he's still being followed by the fucker and shouted, "The fuck you actually want from me, shitface! Get right to the point or I'll stuff it!"

Nokto caught up to him, panting towards the ground while leaning his arm on a wall, slowly lifting up his head to face him.

"Cease any business with anyone associated with Obsidian, you dumbass. And keep psychopaths in your court to a minimum. What a mess…."

Silvio restrained himself from throwing the prince off again. They were both catching their breaths now, struggling to speak. Silvio paced around the alley they found themselves in until he landed on the wall on the other side.

"I'm not catering to your racist ass, bitch. We do business with whoever we want."

"Racist? That guy confessed to wanting to invade us for-" —Nokto gasped and exhaled, shrugging with his whole arm— "His 'glorious fatherland' or whatever the hell he was preaching."

"Ah-ah, don't bullshit me." Silvio cracked his neck. "His guys hurt your little boyfriend and you got your pantsies in a twist. Boo hoo. Go cry to your big brothers about it, don't take it out on me." He pushed himself off the wall and cornered Nokto down. Pointing a finger up his face. "Zollern, is an established Benitoitian house, and the merchants he deals with trusted them. That's the end of their fuckin' business. Whoever you're messing around with is your problem."

Nokto chuckled. "Hah, unlike you I got no issues with my brothers. They're already keeping him in jail, dickwad." He straightened himself up. "I should remind you if you keep letting your merchants do whatever they want, Obsidian will start and they're not going to stop at our borders. You better not get too cozy in your little boat because that shit is sinking."

Silvio grunted loudly in exasperation, rolling his eyes so hard he circled around the alley and finally pinned Nokto lazily to the wall. "Yeah? Well, didn't fuckin' ask for your opinion. Don't give a shit. Go yap about it to your mom."

"I fucked your dad last night."

Silvio paused.

He stared at the prince like he was a ghost and bursted out laughing like a maniac—so indecently that Nokto cringed hearing it resonating throughout the entire neighbourhood. It was so stupid. So goddamn stupid he joined in with his own horrendous chortle.

"That's- that's hilarious, foxfuck. You're a fuckin' hoot. A goddamn hoot is what you are." Silvio sighed while pacing around, wiping tears off his eyes. "I can't believe my life."

Nokto couldn't stop laughing either until it felt like he'd throw up from not breathing. "Ahh, God, I'm in pain. I've had enough beating this week alone to last me a while."

As he struggled for air he realised the other prince was watching him intently.

"What, what you looking at?" Nokto raised a brow. He didn't realise that, to Silvio, he was looking extremely uninhibited; genuinely entertained, smiling, laughing, none of that charade he keeps around people, and a touch deranged.

The simmer that's been cooling off inside Silvio's head, grows into a boil again.

He stomped towards the prince, grabbing him by the collar, again.

"What are you doing- why are you trying to mess me up huh? Answer."

He didn't yank him around as much this time. It was more of a desperate plea.

"What?"

"You… you-, this whole, thing." He gritted his teeth. "This whole back and forth, and then you looking at me like… —This whole fucking game you're playing! Why are you doing this to me?"

For a brief peaceful moment in time, the only thing that could be heard is their breathing, and the soft pounding in their chests.

"I…" Nokto opened his lips. "I can't get you to listen in any other way."

Silvio stared. His grip lessened.

"We're getting desperate, and I don't have much time. I barely delayed… another war, and it can't be held off forever. Benitoite has to listen for once!" said Nokto, still panting. "Do you realise how much of a broken record I've become? It's getting pathetic. And I can't let it slide anymore after what happened—meanwhile you're just-" Nokto shrugged his arms, given up on speaking. "Look. Besides. There's no one else in this world I could speak to this way without getting my head chopped off."

"Hah, it's not off the table. So it's true, you're just taking out your frustration on me 'cus you've been begging for attention?"

Nokto laughed like he's about to choke him out. "Sure…call it that way. I'm just making it a night you won't be able to forget."

Silvio frowned, visibly thinking. Both of them only continued to glare at each other.

"...Crazyass."

He let him go. Nokto stumbled onto the wall, holding some parts of his body while wincing.

There were questions left unanswered, and unsaid words crowding up the air. Their proximity hasn't decreased either. Silvio shook his head in disbelief.

He whispered. "Alright, so you trusted… that I would just- let you go here? Let it off after what you did, just like that?"

"Oh, come on. What am I, your valet? Have I disgraced you? You and I, we understand. We have something different between us."

Silvio's eyes widened. "And what's that?"

Nokto grinned. Silvio felt like he had said the wrong thing and had revealed too much of himself somehow.

Screw it, he doesn't have much fuel left in him to get mad. He cracked his head around in exasperation and tutted. He's not that fucking dumb.

"What, so you fool around with guys too, ha?" Silvio cocked his head.

"Oh sure… maybe on the weekends." Nokto rolled his eyes. "What you gonna do about it?"

Silvio was quite impressed. No hesitation. Bastard's got no shame. He squinted at him, scanned both of his eyes, unconsciously, to his lips, down his lean body and back. "Whad'ya think I'd do about it?"

"I don't know, you tell me." Nokto leaned his back more comfortably against the wall, crossing his arms. Watching Silvio, with knowing eyes, and the slight smile that curved each end of it.

Silvio dropped his elbow against the wall beside Nokto's head, casting a shadow on their faces. This man just won't relent on screwing him up further. And he thought the game's already up. "Fine, I get your appeal, pretty boy. I can see it. It's not pleasant but I can."

"Ohhh, you 'get' my appeal huh." Silvio didn't bother stopping his eyes from straying to Nokto's lips anymore. "You understand it very well."

The mocking laughter that came out of it was driving him crazy. He gripped the end of Nokto's chin. "But if I wasn't this drunk I'd still be kicking your ass further, alright? I don't care how pretty you are, I'd be adding some broken arms and, and legs and shit."

His voice faltered. Almost soft than intimidating.

"Right, right… 'course you will."

"You're the one that got up to me, spoke over my drinking time and made a scene, okay? Forget beheading. You should be thanking me I'm leaving you intact right now. We still have some dignity left here, as civil men."

"Oh I'm the one that made the scene, of course. It's me that's throwing people around out here. It's nice that we got that covered."

"Listen here, fox." His words ghosted Nokto's lips. The prince closed his eyes, as if surrendering himself to Silvio. Although, more likely, he thinks he'd already won. "My point is you got fuckin' guts, alright? And how's that, how can you tell?"

At first, Nokto had no clue what the hell he was talking about. Or at least, he pretended not to, before he started smiling to himself.

"Tell what?"

"Answer the question."

"I don't need to be able to tell." He briefly opened his eyes. "I still wouldn't be sure 'til you shove that tongue up in me."

Silvio stared strictly towards the other prince, boring a hole through his skull. In his frazzled head, Silvio thinks, it doesn't take any effort to shove his tongue up his mouth at this point anyway, so he fucking did it. His first taste caught Nokto's teeth and made him curse under his breath. Nokto out of nowhere gained the energy to shove him around, pinning him on the other side of the alley, lips still suffocating him and constantly stealing his breath.

Silvio never had anyone treat him like that. Much less a fellow man. His hand got hold of Nokto's hair. His heart was beating up to his ears and his body was ablaze. Their hands were already straying everywhere it could only hope to reach before.

"You're not actually drunk are you," Nokto breathed out. Lips well kissed. Silvio never… seen him like this either.

"You kidding? You didn't let me finish my damn bottle."

Some buttons were undone, somehow. He never caught him doing that. He felt Klein's hands graze his skin and he grunted into the crook of his neck.

"Alright, babe. That offer still stands."

"No, you-" Silvio finally caught one of the prince's hands. "You animal. Tch. I have to get you patched up first."

"Huh?"

Nokto stared incredulously, and Silvio didn't budge.

"Do you just want to ride this dick or do you want an actual conference to be held? If the latter I gotta keep you all intact."

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Tl;dr Silvio insults nokto by calling him gay and a pussy and Nokto responds by sucking his dick. Love wins

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri fic #Ikepri fanfiction #Ikepri fanfic #Ikepri nokto #Ikepri Silvio #Ikepri Adam #I apologise for the gratuitous swearing #I can't help it

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naresnani · 2 years ago

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I Caught Wind

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain (Male OC) | Words: 1.8k

Tags: Fluff, suggestive scenes

Summary :

The first time the marquis ever been near an ocean, his friend snuck him there. For the Benitoitian sea.

Notes: yeah I like to encourage the reaction of, ""friend"". Anyway, this is supposedly for @voltage-vixen and @xxsycamore ‘s summer of smut 0.3 event, for the prompt... Blow jobs on the beach? And... welcoming the sunrise by the shore? End me.

"So that's… the water's noise."

He could feel it, the distant booming sound—alike a heavy, heavy rain—almost thrumming in his chest, building the nerves. It was terrifying to imagine this frantic wind carrying a large amount of water was what made such a noise. As the young marquis kept getting urged to walk further down the coast, he felt his feet sinking deeper into the sand with each step.

"Yep, the water's noise," the very light voice, right behind his neck, said. "We're almost there."

"Wait, wait wait wait."

Adam held up his arms as if it would add more resistance to their movements. The booming was loud, surrounding him on all sides. The harsh wind was pulling on his clothes and hair, as well as the prince's hair. He completely stopped as felt the ground was suddenly sloping downhill. The prince bumped into him.

"You're not going to fall into the water, Kain. It's still way ahead. Trust me," Prince Nokto chuckled.

"Can't you just, take your hands off my eyes right now?"

"No. Not yet."

Adam mumbled, "... I can feel the sand getting wetter already."

It's true, the ground was slightly muddier than before, and it was sticking to his skin.

"We just need to walk a little more, I promise."

So he did. The ground got more solid and flat the more they descended, and muddier still. The 'rain' got louder. It was up to a point that he could taste the wind on his tongue, and felt as if he was about to crash into something big, that he decided to stop walking. All the while the Prince tailing him only got even more restless. Or excited, rather.

"I don't, want to get any closer," said the marquis.

"Alright, let's wait here."

He wasn't sure what exactly the prince was going to wait for, but it's definitely not safe, predictable things. The man is not one to keep his associates in their comfort zone. He pushes people to their limit, which makes him exhilarating. Dangerous.

The prince's fingers were still resting lightly on the dips of the marquis' eyes, and they could've easily been ignored in order to take a little peek, if the nervous man chooses to, but he chose not to.

It is simply a matter of formality. And the weight of his fingers against any part of his body.

"Will you keep your eyes closed on your own now, for me?"

The marquis felt his voice right in his ear, even if the waves were deafening.

"Ah, fine. But- wait where're you going?"

The prince stepped away from him, and disappeared further onwards, ignoring Adam's outstretched hands. He's no doubt about to do something stupid. Before he could open his eyes out of agitation, he heard the prince scream—

"Now! This is going to be a good one!"

A boisterous crash! and sizzling, shocked the marquis' eyes open and he watched the prince being swallowed by a high wave — bent down cheering with his arms outstretched brushing the passing water in between his fingers. Adam didn't even notice the entire shore up to his ankle being licked by the cold water.

"Woah! Nokto!" He pulled his feet out of the water and started waddling towards the prince, catching one of his arms. The waves stopped its climb up and he finally realised what was ahead of him.

The dark expanse of the sea. Laying, from one end of his sight to the other, a restless body of water over an incomprehensibly large surface of the land, flat up into the clear line of the horizon far away. The sun rose low, alone on the young purple-red sky, giving her colours to the sea. The wind was ceaseless. His hair scratched his skin wherever the breeze pulled them and there was nothing, no one, in the miles and miles of water ahead but the two of them, dumb beings standing in awe of this commonplace form of the earth.

As the waves started to slide back down, it pulled them along.

Nokto laughed, looking up at the marquis from his crouched position. "What, I thought his lordship didn't want to get wet!"

Witnessing the prince's boyish grin pulled him back to where his two feet were standing, but the harrowing feeling of being pulled down by the waves didn't stop. He quickly scrambled to hold onto the prince.

"Hey, hey hey, you're not going to fall, big guy." Nokto straightened up and held him firmly by the waist. "You're anchored on earth here like a rock. Right, here."

That smile, and all that extra weight on him did somehow make him feel anchored. He felt something searing up inside and took several hearty breaths for himself, drying up his mouth.

"I knew you were trying to scare me." He patted Nokto's shoulders. "That's not very cool."

"I wasn't! Told you to stay put didn't I?"

"You really believed I'd stay put when you simply- don't know, ran off? Leaving me behind?"

The prince stared at him with searching eyes, the dangerous kind that'll get you in trouble. For everyone else, at least. For him it is just another chance to stare back.

"Alright, I shouldn't have. All I could see was a big one approaching, and I just took off right then and there."

"You were eager to get hit by a big one?"

He shrugged. "It's fun. All is my bad. Wanted you to feel the waves on your feet for the first time, gave you a heart attack instead." Patted his fist on the marquis' chest. Trying to play it casual.

"Right. You shouldn't do that again. Got me in a real rush."

Out of nowhere, out of the middle of bumfuck nowhere, the prince leaned on him to plant a brief kiss. So brief he had no reaction. Like a flash to disorient him.

"Sorry. You're not scared off by the oceans right now are you?"

The calmer waves slide up and off their feet, leaving behind some coldness that was stuck in the dips of their weight on sand. The two stared at each other's curious faces. Palpitations grown worse.

The marquis glanced around. There was no one, nothing, for miles and miles but the two of them.

He nervously wetted his lips. "Could I… do that again?"

Nokto wore that slight pinch in his eyes, that perfect partner to his seductive smile—a tell that he's about to get really troublesome. "Do what again, exactly?"

The marquis kissed him, a shy arm snaked around the prince's waist. Just a bit to break off the tension. Just a little drop of his heart. Nokto's looking too pretty under the early sun, too off-duty, too… enjoying himself. Too oddly contented. He needed to get all the thoughts out of his head so they wouldn't bother him for the rest of the day, ruining whatever business they were actually here to deal with. Funny he couldn't care less about them now.

Just as he tried to pull away, the prince wouldn't let him. He finally listened to the beat of his own pulse now. He listened to the waves for the first time. Truly listened.

When it came time for some air— he quipped, "Gah, your Highness, shouldn't turn this important trip into another kind of affair should we?"

"When has that ever stopped you before?"

He grumbled as a reply before being kissed again. More firmly, this time. He was being pushed backwards, up into the dry sand until they both accidentally stumbled down, the prince making it his chance to get on top of him, of course.

"You're being awfully… warm, and dry, you know," muttered the prince. Crimson eyes pinning him from above.

"Hey. Hey, who's the one that decided to take a dip into the water? Now back off before you-"

Before he could protest any more, Nokto latched on and dropped himself straight on top of him, finally dipping the marquis' perfectly clean hair into the sand.

"Agh. You have me beaten." He sighed, as water crashed the shore below them calmly. No other choice but to wrap his arms around the man now.

"I'd still be sleeping right now." Nokto yawned. Rubbing his temple against the chest he was laying on. "Done this all for you just to have you ignore the beautiful sunrise by the sea completely."

"Oh right, the sunrise." The marquis was affected to yawn back, covering his open mouth with a palm. He noticed the yellow of the sky had spread wider into the faint stars above. The sun raining more of her warmth now. On top of the prince's hair.

"Yeah, I see it. It's, uh, pretty," he concluded.

He felt hands mapping his body. Careful. Point by point.

"Yeah?" Nokto shifted in his hold. "I guess that's all I need to hear from you."

Yeah. "The ocean, otherwise… I find it more terrifying than not, to be honest." The ebb and flow of its waves still sang in between their words.

"I can tell. I personally think they're more… benevolent of a force, and gentle."

"You're strange."

"Because its whole body is like an animal, Kain. Breathing, flowing, restless. A large, beating animal."

Blink. "Maybe you could sleep a little. Just a wink right here."

"I'm joking you, Adam." The name, still catches him off guard whenever he uses it. "Didn't really pay attention to the sea either, did I? I got too distracted rather. By someone."

"Well. When I saw that happening I thought you were about to be washed away."

Nokto frowned. Leaning in on the rise and fall of Adam's chest.

"You really thought I'd leave you behind?"

"Not exactly what I meant, I'm very- m-!"

Nokto pressed on his sensitive parts, sending a shudder throughout his body.

"What did you really mean, then?"

"I… don't know. I wanted to get to you."

He held onto a handful of the prince's clothes. A sigh, after Nokto purposely evened out the pressure. Giving him a moment to adjust to the rocking of the flow. The patterns of his fingers.

"Then, what I wanted you to do, was to let your hair down." Nokto's crimson eyes, once again, pinned him still on the ground, to let him lift himself up, sneaking fingers past the openings of Adam's cloth. "Run around, you know, dig the sand. Fish. Watch the view. Drown. Whatever. Keep your eyes off of me, for once."

For once. His heart beats in shame. Who was he trying to fool, now? Trying to camouflage it all, trying to 'get all of his thoughts out before the day starts'? Not a soul on earth.

He opened up his dark eyes towards the prince, wincing against his crimson. "Yeah, I can try. But it'll be hard to do, I'd reckon."

Beautiful, beautiful, diabolical grin. His silver tufts falling onto his cornered prey's forehead. Their breaths almost becoming one again.

"That's the case… then, I want more of your voice, yeah? So I could hear you over the sea."

#ikepri adam #ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri fic #Ikepri nokto #Summer of smut #Summer of smut 0.3

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naresnani · 2 years ago

Text

What happens on earth, stays on earth.

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Nokto Klein / Adam Kain (Male OC) | Words: 6.5k

Tags: Soulmate AU, Enemies AU, Suicidal ideation, racism, war setting, implied major character death, happy ending, Nokto’s 1st POV, some sort of Nokto character study, it’s ok they’re just going on a wacky adventure I swear I swear-

Notes: OH god oh god this is getting out of hand. I didn’t think it would get this long. Anyway, this is for @xxsycamore ‘s and @queengiuliettafirstlady 's different universe, same love content creations challenge, for the Day 3 prompts of Soulmate AU | Enemies AU. I... sort of combined the two together, but also, not really. You’ll see if you read it through.

Summary:

People believe their life is over.

Except me. I don’t believe my life has been done and rehearsed before, in the sky before I am born, because if so, I’ll have more of an idea of what I’m doing in this Godforsaken world.

However, I do often think it’s almost over. Only... it’s up to me.

And it has been said that with all things, God has created them in pairs, so that you may remember His greatness. Whether it be of what the earth produces, or of humankind themselves, as well as the rest of what they do not know.

I was born a twin. Though, that is far from what they meant when they speak of pairs. They’re talking of something more primordial—even more so than pre-birth. Far beyond the conceptualisation of the flesh, everything was, after all, created as a twin to God itself.

This is what love is. For anything to exist, another has to be, so that they’re witness to each other.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

I wake—

To pitch black darkness and rough woollen makeshift bed. My face itches upon me realising, and my head of hair has been indistinguishable from the woven patchwork underneath me for a while. The tent covering our hide sways in the young winter wind, giving a pensive howl for whoever was jolted awake. Not far from where I lay, a man about my age sat facing the fabric wall, watching a corner of the opening flap around with the breeze. He kept his stiff, but arguably warm uniform around his torso. The muzzle of his musket rifle peeks from behind his shoulder as he hugs it close, as if it is a stuffed animal.

He’s not one with many words. Apparently that’s the right one for the job, somehow, for escorting a high-risk ‘someone’ like me.

“Hey, oi. Are you not gonna sleep at all?”

I poked the soldier’s back. It is a wonder if there’s a rule against talking with prisoners within the Obsidian military. Including a freed political one, at that.

“If you’re not going to, we should just get going,” I said. Against my desires, because however cold it is outside it’s way more imperative for me to get this exchange over with already.

“It’s almost dawn, Prince Nokto. We wait for a bit of light.”

That’s his voice. “Wait, it is really?”

Time doesn’t move the way it is in sleep. Just like the heart— it behaves more deviantly.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Just like how it was said that everything came in pairs and it’s where love lies, believers took the phrase literally. As in, we believe each person has their own other half, and that they will meet, and inevitably fall in love. And get married. And reproduce.

This is where they trip up. Believe it or not none of us choose how our souls are split while we are in the primordial soup. The other end could end up being someone you’ll greatly despise, a stranger you won’t know at all, or someone you’re completely barred from knowing. There’s no scriptures saying that this has anything to do with copulation. Yet people endure lives of misery and yearning for this belief. Kings, and entire kingdoms alike.

Anyone can accuse anyone of being—and not being—soulmates. There’s no proof that can be written and signed and believed. Souls are only ‘married’ in essence, and only dreams strip a soul to its essence. And only in dreams, then, can souls communicate.

Dreams are fragile memories. It has no standing in bureaucracy.

Everyone before me has failed so far. My father had his first love chased away because the royal court deemed it unseemly for him to have a wife of a dirty commoner. Were they, or were they not soulmates? Who cares. What does that beautiful detail of our creation matter anymore, against ‘unseemliness.’

They say pairs are two, but after all that maddening fiasco, father then believed he had a mate in every woman he laid eyes on. First, the Queen Michel. Then, five other more. Then my mother. Then he wailed and wailed about his first love again, when her estranged son arrived in his palace. No, no one actually cares about soulmates, or knows what they’re supposed to be. No one actually believes in pairs.

When me and my brother were born in pairs, they deemed that unseemly too.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

The soldier skillfully disassembled our shitty military tent, and tied up all the materials in one bundle. Impressively, he attaches all of that onto his already hefty looking pack. I couldn’t stop being amazed. I, on the other hand, get to carry my own bed bug ridden, scratchy, woollen blanket with me, so that’s nice.

The fields separating mine own fatherland and the blackstone-named Empire are not that big in reality. It’s largely just a dry, vast steppe, with nothing but weeds and dull colored hills as far as the eyes can see—which is why it looks and feels so neverending. We have to travel by foot too, because apparently I am not to be trusted with a horse. Which prolonged this journey even more.

The wind has nothing to catch itself on so it could almost blow you off your feet at times. Autumn is when various herbs grow across the land, giving the air a hint of sweetness, and dizziness, when you think about it too much. These herbs are precious for the people that lived around them, which were not that many, considering.

The soldier is likely a man of these small tribes. Darker coloured hair, skin, almond shaped eyes. Not quite what you’d imagine of the average Obsidianite. The empire has been subjugating them for centuries, that’s why he’s here, most likely, against his will.

We walk at a meagre pace. The ground groaned against our feet. The sun has just risen from the horizon. We are heading east, always east. East to the small kingdom of Rhodolite.

“Adam, was it?” I started up a conversation. There’s no reason someone as talkative as I am needs to endure this silence.

He glanced back at me with no discernible expression. Yet I could read that he was asking a question.

“No, it’s nothing. Just wanted to strike up a chat, you know.”

“It is Adam,” he said, nodding forward. I try to say it the way he was.

“Alright Adam. It’s actually quite a nice day isn’t it? I wouldn’t expect it during these months.”

He kept on walking. His boots create a constant crunching sound against the grass.

“I’ve never been to this part of the earth during winter. I couldn’t imagine any snow on these featureless… endlesss… land of goddamn grass.”

“You should then, sometimes.”

I snapped up towards him. Never thought he’d give that kind of response. “Heh, after all of this is over, I guess?”

“Maybe.”

“You’re actually a nice fellow, aren't you.” I lengthen my stride to catch up with him. “Makes me think I’ve met you somewhere else before….”

He tightens his jaw, and makes a faint shake of his head. I don’t know what that gesture is supposed to mean. I kept looking forward, towards another featureless hill in the distance.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

I have met Adam before. Once upon a time, years and years ago, during the times where all my other memories of it are now gone. We accidentally met as young children. Way before I understood what God and creation were.

It was a damp, and sweltering summer. Cicadas cried in the light air. Mother had unusually allowed me and my twin brother out of our closed chambers, and we played along with the other palace’s courtiers sons.

We ran all over the courtyard, circling and turning around the rose bushes so that we're away from our mother's watch—because she doesn’t like seeing us free, and reckless, as if it takes from her own freedom. All I could recall now was us running into an old Marquis of a far away county—white haired, hefty stature—who had brought his children with him to the court, most especially his first son.

Round face, spiky hair. A clearly different complexion from everyone else.

A quiet boy. Young Adam was out-of-the-way, he did not play with the others. He pretended to be interested in what the adults were talking about, and only watched us from a distance. But no kid really cares or should care about what the adults were talking about, so the marquis eventually tried to introduce the three of us to each other. However, we exchanged no words.

I figured that the boy wouldn't actually speak. Licht, my twin, eventually gave him our ball so we could kick across the garden together. A ridiculously simple play.

It never lasted long. The other kids simply avoided us, because of the boy. They were watching us strangely. The adults were watching us strangely. I could always tell when they were watching. People were often careful around us, and right then, they were being way less discreet than usual.

We eventually left the kid alone, and he slinked back to his father's side.

Ever since, I never saw him in the palace again. The Marquis never brought any of his children again. Later I heard he became marked as a traitor to the king, and his county was taken over by another noble. The reason is unclear. His whereabouts, now, are still unclear—including the whereabouts of his family. We’ve been through many conflicts with the Empire, and although having gotten a job like mine now, many of past secrets remain hidden from me.

My curiosities back when I was young, too, were never satisfied. No one knows of the quiet kid. No one wants to know of the quiet kid.

"What is it about him? I will not hear about you being seen with that child again, do you just- despise me so?"

Mother cried over the littlest things. I never figured what will and what won’t make her mad.

"Do you just love having me shunned?"

Why, tell me then, what's wrong with him? What's different?

"That foolish marquis… spat in the face of God and his design, he did. Created 'that' with a barbarian-!"

And that’s it. My mother was a bit unwell.

I realised it, at that moment.

"Don't hurt me more than you have, Nokto. Don't make everything in my life more difficult than it is!"

This realisation I had, was only after she said what she truly believed. A white noble married a tribeswoman. And it was an insult to God’s creation. Nevermind about souls. Nevermind about pairs.

I never believe what people say they believe anymore. It’s a lie they tell to themselves.

One day, my brother and I turned a year older.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Adam heard something in the distance that he was worried about. He told me to lay low, blend in with the grass herbs. He crawled ahead of me, higher onto the peak of the hill, even drew the musket rifle off his back.

Silence. Only the turf scraping one another against the breeze. I pay notice of the grasshoppers jumping between the grass covering my face. The cries of distant ravens in the sky. I feel like, just in case I were to die here, at least I seem to be… most on earth.

“Jadean soldiers,” I hear Adam whisper. It is so quiet now that I can hear him easily. “I don’t know why they’re here.”

“Jade? You sure? That’s not possible.” I couldn’t help but try to crawl ahead too. I hear him grumble trying to push me back down.

Far, in the view that the hill has provided, dots of green uniforms line out like ants crawling out of their nest. Some were on horseback. Behind them were groups of steppe trees that could be hiding more of them. Jade is a… partially neutral country. They’re not participating in this war. At least, not directly.

Adam is staring at me like he was insulted that I didn’t believe him. I say, “look, I avoid being too narcissistic at times but… do you think this has anything to do with me?”

“Why are you asking me?”

Right. I am the court diplomat here. I am also the spy, the jester, the ‘entire Rhodolite’s POWs worth’ of an asset. I am the one with the clue here.

“We try not to make enemies with Jade,” I claim. “Key word being, ‘try.’”

“Mmm. So you ever… made fights with them before?” Adam started to reach for his ammunition bag, opening up his musket to be loaded.

“Well… happens sometimes, right? I mean, they’re the ones supplying Obsidian with food, we couldn’t really help at the time to-”

Adam rammed the paper bundled bullet down the musket muzzle with a ramrod. He slipped the rod back in its place and shook my shoulder firmly. “They're heading here. We circle around north for now, if you'd like. It will take even longer to reach Rhodolite but… depends on your priorities.”

“Yeah, well….”

I see more of the green dots coming out of the horizon. More men on horsebacks. It seems to be an entire battalion at least. I swallowed down my throat.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

I believe predetermined fate exists, and… it doesn’t, at the same time. I believe it exists whether or not I believe in it. It’s more important what people do in the name of fate than what fate itself makes. Me and my twin, along with noble blooded twins of old, have been marked as an omen to an “unfortunate fate” that also comes with, apparently, “a very fortunate one.” Omens come in pairs. Fate comes in pairs. Everything, of the earth and of mankind and the rest that they do not know.

The war, and the famine, apparently was caused by Licht being born, while the victories, the harvests, were all me. Well, or vice versa. Who decides these things, right?

But, that is what my brother believed. He believed he lived a life that caused misery. Miseries that ‘we do not know.’ And the earth took him away. It took him away from me. And what does the earth give us after? War and famine… and summer and harvests, still. Earth is indifferent.

I fell into a deep void. Where I came out not remembering my mother’s face anymore.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

The hill was to our right. The sun, to our left. My legs had started to give out. Around the foot of the mound were a lot of rocky grounds, so I've slipped and misstepped a bunch of times and it's starting to get me. Adam is far behind me, choosing so apparently, to watch over the south horizon or perhaps giving me some mercy.

Still, at the rate that I'm going he catches up with me quickly. At the one last step I have, I take hold of his arm to steady myself, almost collapsing ourselves to the uneven ground.

"You want to stop here?" he asks.

I want to keep up face, and answer, "no, I can keep going."

He doubted my claim, but didn't comment on it. He suddenly pulled me by the hand, and like a child, I kept walking while being led.

His hand is rough, warm. This felt.… -I don't know if it is more normal to hold a stranger's hand for him—if skinship has an entirely different boundary—but I feel… held.

Adam whistles out a gentle tune. I've never heard him do so before. It almost sounds like a lullaby.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Out of everything, one of the only memories I retain is, ironically, a memory of a dream. An old, deep, childhood nightmare. The usual kind. Of being chased in darkness.

The place looked a lot like the palace hallways past the middle of the night, when the lights have all been put out. New halls and corners kept popping up the more I walked. It turned maze-like.

In every corner that I went, a faceless human would appear before me, standing still, so that I cannot pass. Eventually I was sure they were following me. I ran to every corner that I could find, always being greeted by the same entity.

I got desperate for a way out. But every door leads to another maze that leads to more doors. There were noises, whispers, always, behind me. As if they were catching up. There were other people I recognised present in that palace, but they were all indifferent towards me. Eventually, everytime I saw them their faces turned distorted. Their eyes moved places, got larger on one side, and their mouths stayed still even when they spoke.

I was even more scared of the people I used to know than the chasing monster.

I cannot get help from them. There was no way out, nowhere to hide nor to run. They were getting louder behind me. I decided to give up and close my eyes.

I was grabbed by the back of my clothes. The shock almost jolted me awake, but I was quick to realise I had found myself being held tightly by someone.

I had always thought it was my brother who saved me, but I don’t remember what the boy looked like. If it was Licht, I definitely would. It was someone else I made up. He felt real, like how every dreams are. His body around my arm and the breaths that went through my lungs. The hands clinging to my back. The noises dissipated, and I could see everything better in the dark.

I remember what I said. I said, “thank you. Please don't leave me.”

He said, “It's okay, I'll see you again tomorrow.”

That was the only dream I remember having as a kid. That was perhaps the only dream I needed.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

The sun dips quietly. Traces of stars are already showing in the sky even with the sun's light colouring the blue. I was sitting in front of our tent, under my nice woollen blanket whose dye had browned at this point, sipping on warm scented water in front of my own small fire.

I totally impressed the soldier with my fire developing skills. He doubted I have ever even stepped foot in the wilderness. To be frank, this is about the only thing I can do. I certainly have no skill in building that badass tent, which Adam seems to be so efficient at doing. While I was watching, at least.

"If you won't mind the compliment. I really like watching you work. You really know it like the back of your hand."

"Huh?" He looked behind his shoulder while nailing an iron peg onto the ground with a big rock. "Uhhh, right. But this is easy to build."

You know. You're allowed to find a guy cute, right?

"So you've built… harder tents?"

"Mmm, bigger ones." He tested the buried peg and then moved onto another one. "Mostly I've just had to build for someone… more demanding than you. I suppose."

"Oh. Me, not demanding? The first time I've ever heard that in Obsidian."

I was sure I caught him smiling.

Now Adam had disappeared somewhere after leaving me with herbs. I don't know much about herbs. They could be poisonous for all I know, however, these past few days my only companion in the steppe had started to grow on me.

We have never talked properly yet, about each other. We really should.

When the sky had turned darker, Adam returned. He brought more water. The first thing he does with it is to pour some on the fire.

"I keep hearing Jadean recon riding around here. Unless you know they won't do anything to you, we should avoid using light."

"Great. Thanks for the alarming news but, you could've been nicer to my fire…."

He ushered me inside the tent before it gets too cold, and shut us out from the world.

At night, somehow, the wind was sparse but it was colder than any of the other nights we've been. Like the steppe had frozen over.

I have slept here and there, but I keep waking up to shivers. Constantly had to rub my hands together and hold my palms close to my breath, while the rest of my body wasn't faring well. Shivers sweep through my bones, and I couldn't open my mouth without teeth clacking louder.

Adam was in his usual position. Sitting up, hugging his knees. His musket is laying down beside him this time, and his uniform is now worn as it should be.

I sat up and huddled up closer to him, almost shoulder to shoulder. He was rather startled.

"Oh I thought you're…."

I pull out my left hand. "Adam, shake my hand."

He stared, and hesitantly did reach out to grab my hand. As the joke goes, our hands are shaking without any of us trying to move them. However,

"Ahahah, fuck. You're warmer than I thought you would be. This joke sucks."

"You need to eat more," said he. His breath blows a fog my way. He rummages around the tent. "Haven't you eaten from your ration?"

"Yeah. But I…." I couldn't say, 'it's less than what I'm used to eat.'

He glares. "Eat again. We're almost there if not for those soldiers. Plenty to go around. You look dead."

I laugh. "You may be right, I've always imagined I'll die looking way better than I am now honestly. Lying pretty in my bed or something. Somehow."

"It's not that. You're as cold as this iron bit on the rifle here. Couldn't be a good sign."

"Oh. You think I look good then?"

He stares incredulously. I grin so he can clearly tell I'm just joking, but I'm afraid in my state now the grin just looks more… 'deranged,' rather than… 'seductive'.

"Good, as in, what?" he said. Oh, dear, why are you prolonging this….

"As in I look dapper to you, friend, like a prince would."

"Oh, dapper. You do look dapper." I have a feeling he doesn't know what dapper means. "But this isn't the issue right now."

I sigh. Curling in on myself even more, I lay my forehead down on my arms. Feeling all sorts of terrible.

I really wouldn't have survived in the wild. I wouldn't have survived anything my brothers are going through every day. I almost wouldn't have survived doing what I'm already doing… before I have to be bailed out by my brothers, again. And now, I wonder if I could've died in my sleep.

Suddenly the earth seems to be humming, and I remember the endless fields and the stars, and these humanly issues feels much more insignificant. More so I am.

"I should've kept an eye while you… Listen. You just need to eat. It'll help before it gets worse." Adam busily pokes around in the tent, but I didn't budge.

"I… don't know. I've read the stories. I feel like dying from the cold would be… the most peaceful way out. Right? Your own body makes the process painless. And everything slowly stops."

The wind, not here, but in Rhodolite, scattered apart the stray petals off the cobbled streets. I can feel the capital buzzing underneath my ribs. The rumble of the ground when horse carriages run by. The bells of the churches. The first scent of the roses when you first step out to the garden in the morning. Morning breakfast. My brothers' shoes clapping across the hallway.

I feel it's not so far away, but it's also too much. Like the soul of the city is overtaking mine.

I feel my face heating up, and when I look up, Adam is cupping my cheeks.

"We'll start a fire. Alright?"

The stars' fabrics envelop the entire earth, and descend its light softly. The steppe is rolling under a kind wind. A small fire crackles. The wind does not bother it.

Adam stomps a group of sticks on the ground to make them into smaller pieces, to throw in. I also threw some dry grass into the mix. To make myself feel less useless.

He sits down on the other side of the fire, burning his sticks. We are both quiet. Crickets dominate the chatter. The warm smoke of the flame blows into my face.

My heart continues to get heavier. I have nowhere else to look, but my 'friend' in front of me. Whose brown eyes look more clear in front of the flame. He is expressionless. With this man, I never knew what he's thinking.

"I never knew…" I start to speak. Adam's eyes flicked towards me. "What your motivations are, or why you're doing what you're doing. But, know what, I feel like it doesn't matter." I smile. "I wish I knew. Dealing with rulers and these people with power could be much more simpler if I'd just… forget what they're thinking of. And just focus on what they're already doing."

"Well. That's what you do, right?"

I didn't expect he'd participate in any of my rambling woes.

"You're changing what they're about to do. Regardless of what they wish. You're negotiating their behaviour. It's the same thing."

"Hmm. Yeah…." I don't have the words to respond to that. He's cheering me up, isn't he?

When they first showed him to me, they brought him like he was their best, most savage soldier. Looking so much like a stoic, focused-on-the-mission soldier with nothing to say for himself. But I could've been more wrong.

"Hey. If not a soldier, what would you wish to be?"

"Me?" He pointed to himself. "I don't know. I don't really think about it." He shifted to hug his knees again. "Unless someone ends this, there's no point in thinking about it."

That is… certainly a way to live. And he definitely was referring to me there, which gives my stomach a painful coil.

I shook my head off the feeling. "You know, Adam. I have a feeling you're… a bit more to our side here," I tease.

He blushes. "No. It's not about Rhodolite. I just hold no love for the empire."

"Don't we all." I lean my face onto my hand. "Maybe you'll warm up to us eventually."

"My father was a Rhodolitian," he adds, in a hurry. "But, well, I don't know him much. I don't think I am a Rhodolitian."

"Is that so!" I gaped. "I wouldn't have guessed that. If you can get that sorted out, you may be able to become a citizen. If you want to."

"Really? Perhaps, then. I don't know."

He frowned deeper than usual. I worried I might have touched on something too personal. So I changed course.

"But, still. You're more caring than you ought to. Did you know that, most of our Obsidianite prisoners has been returned already? This is just a game for them. I am actually just…."

I blew a foggy breath onto the air.

"... The last worthless piece on the board left."

I blew my breath into the sky. I feel the night sky more intimately now, than I ever do. Maybe because I never went on those military campaigns like my brothers. Merely travel back and forth, shut out from the world by the door of the carriage car. And never stopped like this, in the middle of nowhere, sitting around a fire with men that fought alongside you. Comradery.

I suppose I never let myself have that.

I don't know what I’m experiencing now is fortune. Or misfortune. Pairs, are often actually… less separate than most people think it is.

"I was told to kill you."

Adam spoke. He is staring holes into the ground. "By my superiors. He said to walk you through the steppe and kill you, bury you under the grass so that you can't be found. That's what they wanted. They don't care how I do it, either, as they're probably going to shoot me after I get back. Then they could craft it into whatever story they wanted. These Jadean soldiers around here… who knows if they're part of this scenario."

Shivers ran through me, even though it had gotten warmer. "They want me dead, of course." We stare at each other. "But see, I really doubt they will kill you for it. I'd think you'd become a hero, and rewarded for your service. Right now, you might actually get shot, after all you've…."

"No. You don’t know how they think. Especially when it came to us. But, ah….” He shook his head. “I don't care either way. It's not about what they'd do to me. Truth is, I will do anything to get them pissed off."

Then, in a manner I'd think would be uncharacteristic of him, he grinned mischievously.

"So you'd do anything to keep me alive… just to piss them off?"

"Yes, your Highness."

I smile, and smirk. Slowly it turns into a snort and then laughter.

"I see! That’s what you are! You're a good guy. You're the kind of person I'm all about!"

"... What do you mean?"

"Someone sincere, and yet very insincere at the same time. That's the attitude I'm into. We've only been together for a few days, Adam, but I'm really starting to like you."

He averted his eyes. "...I thought you'd be more scared. At least when I said I was supposed to kill you."

Can’t believe I’d be charmed over someone saying that to me.

"Adam, I trust your force of spite more than your sense of duty. Also, how could I be scared? When you've been so sweet and thoughtful?"

Adam turns up straight, like he just saw a ghost.

"Err...look, I'm just teasing you. If you know me, you know that I'm a-"

"Shh! I hear something."

He stood up. Immediately, he stomped on the nice fire we're already starting to get going, and laid a hand on my shoulder as a warning.

I hear it too. A galloping horse.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

They were close.

Not imminent, but close enough to, at the very least, a period of peace through armistice. Winter is coming, so a lot of losses are about to be had. Forces, food, grains, infrastructure. And usually once people are given a taste of peace, they couldn’t imagine going back. It’ll make an easier road to actual peace. However, it’s just simply not as simple as that.

Our battles had been quite bloody. And Rhodolite successfully captured a lot of their northern territory. The green mountainous area. A very precious territory to lose. We also got hold of a lot of their main weapons, like cannons and light artillery, which allowed us to fight back even more. A significant portion of their soldiers has been captured. Which plays a part in this last negotiation.

I bargained for a cease-fire in return for a part of their captured territory. Not too much, or they’ll get greedy, but enough to get them interested. After all, a rough winter is coming for them. They argued, of course, for more. Plus, for the soldiers that were taken from that area. We’re pretty firm in our demands. We go back and forth, back and forth. It’s been months, and winter is getting closer and closer.

Eventually, I heard a lot of rumours about revolting groups within the empire. Capital citizens and peasants alike. Soldiers defecting to the other side or escaping into either Jade or Rhodolite. Subjugated minorities taking up muskets and starting a small guerilla war. They’re internally unstable. They’re getting desperate. And so, we made our final call.

I rode to their treaty headquarters. In a carriage, as always. I stepped into the room, with guards beside me still, and I sat at their table.

I lost consciousness around then. I still don’t know what they did to succeed in doing that, but from then on, I became their prisoner.

I was not imprisoned long. A month, at the very least. I was practically held for ransom. Someone else is negotiating. One of my brothers—Clavis, maybe. Of course, I know nothing about the details. They kept me in the dark, literally and figuratively. When I got out, I was told Rhodolite and our coalition had already given up most of our prisoners of war, and allowed Jade to trade freely with Obsidian again.

I was told that no one, but me and some Obsidianite soldiers that will be escorting me, will know when I will be arriving at Rhodolite. For safety reasons. I was in a daze, I had no idea, nor cared what was going to happen to me.

Only one soldier volunteered to go.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Adam silently crouches inside the tent, to grab his rifle and his ammo bag, and a couple other things. After he hung the bags over his shoulder I heard the galloping turn louder.

“Prince Nokto, we run north.”

“Wouldn’t they see the tent, and easily conclude that we are further north?”

“There is nowhere else to go, run!”

I run as fast as I can, holding the blanket with me, more as an accident. The rolling steppe opens up its waves for my feet. My heartbeat is in my ears. My lungs pull in as much air as it could as I push my legs to its limit.

I didn’t even consider Adam when I ran. I look back, and I see him amongst the frantic meadow watching the fields to our left with his rifle tightly in arms. He lets me go further first. Then fine, I’ll do what he thinks is best, and run like it’s the best thing that I can do.

I see a glint in the distance southwest. Like a straying star. I didn’t think my heart could pick up more speed than this.

Adam’s footsteps almost scared the life out of me.

“Keep going.”

“Is that- is that—?”

“Reconnaissance. They’re already further west than I thought they’d be.”

Even just a minute after catching up, Adam can run farther than me. I focused on breathing as I kept myself from thinking too much. Breathing, that’s all life is.

We ran for miles, but the sound of galloping horses kept going. Like it was right behind me.

“—! Prince Nokto!”

I couldn’t feel my own body falling, and in an instant I was already on the ground, blades of grass sticking to my skin.

“Prince Nokto, I can hear them on the other side of the hill, let’s go. Let’s get up.”

Adam pulled me by my arm to sit. I tried to make myself stand.

“Come on! Just a bit more, let’s go.”

“Adam… fuck, I’m sorry.”

He put my arm around his neck and pulled my entire weight off the ground.

“Let’s go. Don’t apologise, just- just get running. Comeon.”

“Wait, I….” I feel like I’ve lost something. I feel lighter. I realise my blanket is not on me anymore.

A scanned the monochrome ground for it, and finally spotted it, near my feet. Completely blending into the grass. The shitty, itchy woollen blanket blends into the grass.

“Adam,” I whispered, tapping him frantically. I do hear them above us. I swiped the blanket off the ground. “That rock down to your left, do you see it?”

He glanced further down the foot of the hill. A larger rock was jutting up from the ground. Underneath, was shadow casted by it.

“Friend, will you trust me, at least this once?”

He is befuddled by my question. I don’t even know if his nod is sincere or not. Regardless,

“I’m sorry again. For this.”

I encircle my other arm around him and send us both rolling down the rest of the hill.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

Whether or not the plan works out, it’s pain.

Pain all over my body. I wouldn’t put it past me to have broken something. Not to mention, goddamn itch.

That shadow that I thought the rock was making, turns out it was a well and honest-to-God ditch. An actual ditch for things to fall into. So now we are waiting in this ditch, wrapped in my smelly blanket, me and Adam against the world.

Well, it felt that way. But now, when I start to feel actual pain again it’s just me and Adam against each other.

“U-ugh, I can still hear them, but far in front of us- I guess,” he said.

"Well, Adam. It seems like we're going to be stuck here for the entire night."

"Uh-uhh, right…."

"What, what is it? Did I sat on your toe?"

“No, no I’m fine. It's just that you're-" —He keeps shifting in my hold. It’s like he won’t let us keep pretending to be bushes—"holding me too tight."

"Oh." I lightened my hold a little and gave us more space. "Sorry, friend. Did that hurt?"

"No. It's just- this feels too… nevermind."

I can feel his breath as he sighed. As well as his heartbeat right on my cheek. Mine, too, was going frantically at several miles per second. But I’ll blame it on the crisis at hand. His heart, however….

"Are you flustered, soldier? If I read this correctly, we may have something we can get back to here. Just a suggestion."

"Shhh, no! Be quiet."

"I tease, I tease. Don’t be so tense."

“Prince Nokto… please, we’re not out of this yet.”

By the time I can see a sliver of sunlight on the horizon, the steppe has turned quiet again. Nothing but the grazes of grass, and gentle wind. Adam said that the recon might’ve simply gone back to their group to report, so they may not be off their noses yet. So we quickly picked up where we left off, leaving our tent behind—wherever it is,—and simply climbed to the other side of the hill, towards east again.

On the top of the vast mound, behind copious trees of the horizon I could see a wall and a jutting tower behind it. Flapping on the top of its roof was a flag. A familiar red.

Rhodolite.

●◉◎◈◎◉●

I don’t know, whether or not it’s meant to be. If it is anything to do with how souls are created or it’s just the earth underneath that pushes me right where I am now.

I don’t know if it’s love or comradery. Or if it’s both. Or if they are completely the same thing. We confuse twins with each other. We confuse feelings with this and that….

However, fact is, I’ve always seen kindness in every shithole I end up in. Kindness even from the pettiest of reasons. From the roughest part of the world and life. And the earth, however indifferent it is to us, is ultimately a kind being when I was let to see its barest soul, in the form of the dreamlike steppe I crossed with him.

My brother is not here. He can’t speak anymore, there’s no point in giving him voice… but either way, I’ll say to him:

Licht, whatever we’re born for. If this sort of kindness can still be found… for me, I found it quite bearable to keep going. Please, don’t fret anymore.

Your dear twin, Nokto.

#ikepri #ikepri fic #ikepri adam #ikepri nokto #nokto klein #different universe same love ccc

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naresnani · 2 years ago

Text

Less Than Nothing

Fandom: Ikemen Prince | Ships: None | Characters: Leon Dompteur, The 4th Prince | Words: 1.947

Tags: Leon’s route spoilers, overall Depressive tone, mentions of slavery, discussions/thoughts of death.

Notes: This is an old-ish fic that’s always been an AO3 exclusive, but recently I couldn’t see why I shouldn’t also post it here. Just heed the warnings.

Also, the original end-note from the AO3 post: “This is so unstructured and abrupt and weird and ugh. But I need to get this out there bc i dont have a lot of time to attempt this fic again. I just want to point out what the game wouldn't point out in Leon's route: how horrifying this is for a bunch of kids to go through.”

Summary:

After a name is given away, what's left of him?

It's Prince Leon's 6th birthday and so he is about to die soon or something like that.

That number is common in his life. Now that he has actually lived that amount of years, nothing feels all that different. Nothing changes. No one applauds nor bursts out crying the moment the clock hits. There's no storm or rain brewing. There's no sun, either. The sky is bleached white. Everything is condescendingly normal. He feels as if wishes to say, ‘so look, I'm still here, see. No one wants to apologise? At all?’ And everything shuts up in front of him.

He blows out the six candles stuck on his cake, all at once. It's very satisfying. Some did applaud him. His mother refuses to look at him. He eats happily on his bed, because it's his birthday.

The day goes on like normal. He's just as lonely.

He had opened the window and let the air in. It's dry summer breeze with blooming roses. It's the same set of curtains as it was a year ago, waving in the wind.

He doesn't know what to do.

He may have to… spend the rest of his life wandering around, reading, maybe, singing to himself, maybe. Not to spend too much time in the sun, not to run, not to play. He couldn't be with his brothers, 'lest they'll know he's sick. Does no one notice his absence anyway? Is that the point?

He watches the Palace garden from his windows, waiting if anyone will be passing by. The Palace sounded vacant. No one can be heard speaking, singing, he may have been left here alone by everyone. Maybe that's how it is to die. Everyone will just suddenly disappear. How interesting wouldn't that be.

He chuckles. Once, he had cried himself to sleep thinking about dying. He imagined watching his family's grief from above. Maybe looking down from above his buried casket. Maybe he'll slowly float up, and his mother will hold onto his arm with tears on her face begging him to stay, and he cannot speak to her or go back down again because he keeps floating, and his words turn into clouds. Something is pulling him up, an angel of death, or God himself, maybe. Who knows how that works. Nevertheless all that seemed very sad back then and he likes to imagine it every night and it was just a childish excuse to cry. Now he's older. Crying does nothing. And mother wouldn't be that childish, either. She's not a crybaby, and she wouldn't beg him to stay.

Right, especially now that she's busy. He finally heard that he's about to meet someone very important. He should stop worrying about this. It probably wouldn't feel anything different. No one would be looking, no one would watch it happen.

"Close the door, I want to speak with him alone."

That attendant agrees silently, and out comes his very important 'guest.'

The angry kid that's supposed to replace him looks so... pitiful, and just like him . He freezes, for a moment.

Like seeing the angel of death… Like watching himself from above.

He can't help but burst out laughing.

"Amazing! They did it, huh, they really found someone. Mother had truly done it." They're really serious about replacing him!

The tips of his fingers turn cold, so do his toes, and his chest constricts. His laugh had twisted the kid's face even more. This kid hates him. He hates being here so much. He really wants to jump at him and strangle him and he's not sure what to do.

" You ," the kid speaks, with a squeaky voice the Prince cringes at. He's horrified. Maybe as horrified as the Prince is. "I'm- I'm not doing it! I'm not going to accept this! I'm…"

Then the kid said, with venom in each breath, "... I look just like you."

"Exactly." This kid even has his eyes. Amber and... tells that he's about to punch him in the teeth. "We're catching up real well, I think."

"What even are you people," he asks. "What have you been doing here? How do you get to live like this?"

"I don't... What? Who knows?" He shrugs. Inside, that question ticks him. He feels like grinning. Scream something out loud. He's not sure what this excitement really is. "I've been here since I was born. I don't know what you want me to say."

The kid turns red. That hatred, he saw his reflection in it. It fits. He wants that anger. He wants to hate this much.

"Screw off then, I'm not spending my life pretending to be bunch of toffs like you." Strangely, the kid didn't end up attacking. He turns and leaves.

"Wait... huh. Buddy where are you going?" He calls out. "Back as a slave? Run away somewhere alone? Are you kidding? You're pathetic!"

The speed at which that kid turns back at him, he wants to laugh. " What did you say? "

The kid stomps right at him and grabs his collar and he could knock him out right there. He cracks up! For once in his life the Prince felt a spark of catharsis. There it is, that's the word.

That feral anger on my face, I want it badly.

Weakling, childish, crybaby. It's so pathetic to be born sick and dumb, watching all the King's other sons get to be princes. Maybe this is right, then. Maybe it won't end in a mess after all. Maybe mother is not going insane. Maybe this kid will be a better him.

The Prince answers. "I said , are you just going to go back to where you were? Really. Just because you're upset and jealous? You are going to be a prince, kid! and you'd rather go back into the mud!"

"Prince? Who cares about being a prince! I've never met any prince that matters to me. It means nothing to me and you've done nothing to me. It's all made up and stupid!"

"Oh, grow up." He shoves the kid off. "It's time to face it. You're going to be a candidate to the King's throne. No King ever cares about a slave before, but don't you see what I mean?" he grabs him and shakes him, so he'll understand. "If you hate it so much, wear this stupid title, take it up, use it to as you please, change the world however you want. Someone a step lower than the king has so much more power than someone deep down on the dirt. So much. It's all up to you. I'm giving you this place as I die. Do you understand?"

He turns silent, and the Prince let go. "Then... what if I do that, huh? Use it however I please... What if I use it to destroy this kingdom?"

"What do I care?" This kid is going off places. Can't say he didn't like him though. For a slave, he's impressively stubborn and critical. Smart. He'll do just fine. "I'll be dead."

If you think it's all so stupid that it's worth destroying, then it probably is.

The kid frowns. He doesn't make any move. The Fourth Prince smiles confidently, having successfully convinced this boy of his fate.

If it is still possible to watch, after all, from above, then he can't wait to watch this kid do whatever he pleases. Runs and kicks and screams in anger.

--------------------

He is always locked in his bedroom, now.

But Leon secretly hands him the key. He'd walk outside still even if he'll get caught. Even if he turns lightheaded and his chest feels even more painful.

The clock rings and hums throughout the Palace. His footsteps misses the floors. There are loud, muffled music and conversations. He watches Leon from behind doors.

Leon always looks docile and nice. Always looks smart. Leon has been learning to read very slowly and to write with his right hand. The tutor came to see them both sometimes, and as if in constant horror, he gave us books to read while he lost all of his energy and strictness. Lost all of his age at once.

But this isn't what he wants to see. He wants Leon to be him . Not him. Not another dull day. Not another colorless sky. But he supposed they're both now forced under the same rules. And under the same name, and title. And they're about to be the same person.

Wearing his clothes, wearing his coat, his mantle, his lion crest. He's wearing everything.

And when Leon struts across the ballroom, under the chandeliers and stands besides his mother, besides the King, besides the other sons....

The door was pushed open and he saw a mirror. The reflection does not say a thing.

He spoke first, "You're having fun, aren't you?"

The sick boy speaks with Leon under the dim light of the moon. They hid themselves in the dark corners. The stark cold summer wind bursts freely across the balcony. His voice is cracking, but it's because of the cold.

"Fun?... I'm doing this for you." Leon said, with a frown. "It's not 'fun'. I feel out of place. And everyone is watching me."

"You look like you are." He shivers. He wraps his hands together. "Have fun out there. I would try and have fun. Prince Leon is a... chipper. And smart boy. Yeah."

His voice gradually turns smaller. Leon looks confused, and spoke to him carefully. "... Fine. Look, I'm trying. I'm scared to speak with the other sons. And the King doesn't... I don't know. I don't know how to speak..."

"Speak? That's it? Just speak to them like you speak to me. Is that so hard?" He sighed loudly. "Listen, no one likes these parties. It's noisy, tiring, and it's too bright. Everyone is playing pretend there too, not just you. Chill out and enjoy it."

"I said I'm trying . I just want to be a good Prince Leon."

A good Prince Leon... Why does he say it like that?

That name, that title, as if it's a Thing that's not him.

He looks at him and sees….

"Listen. You're doing well as Prince Leon. You're going to be so happy, kind and everyone is going to like you a lot." He smiles, because he has to smile right now.

Now Leon is staring at him. And he is… What does he call himself now, he wonders. The word 'Prince' suddenly feels dry like inhaling dust.

Leon shakes his head. "Don't say that. Don't expect too much. I don't know how to be happy and kind and… I don't know ." He threw his arms up. "I don't know what to do if you're not here with me!" he says. "I don't even feel like going in there again."

Leon wraps his cape around the sick kid's freezing body, because it really is cold. And he must be rattling his teeth. Oh, what is Leon even talking about? Leon doesn't need Leon here, Leon has to go back immediately… One of him, one of them. The 4th Prince.

He clutches his hair. Surely someone sees this too, right? It's not only him that thinks this is insane? Off kilter? That he's about to be acted out by this kid while he can go die and be forgotten?

Why is he thinking about this all over again? He's tired. He's very tired.

"Prince Leon? You're okay right?"

Leon's palm is warm, unlike the kid's.

"I'll be fine. Go back inside and… just enjoy your life, alright? No one's looking. No one is watching you."

Except the kid who will watch him from above, floating.

(Home)

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri leon #leon dompteur #ikepri fic

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