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Dokja, the only son of the king and queen, was such a shut-in but also an absolute romantic. The kingdom didn't really care if he’ll get a spouse but his parents do. They didn't want their only child to end up lonely. They arrange meetings for suitors Dokja would like but there aren't any sparks like the ones he read in books.
His mother wanted to know more about what Dokja’s type so she asked him, “May you illustrate what they would look like?” And he tried to draw, tried to convey what he saw when he read almost every book. But none of them were understandable.
So his father brought out all the artists available in the kingdom to help dokja. But none of the artists can make him as well. But those artists helped dokja learn how to draw and even sculpt. That is when Dokja is finally able to make *him*
“Mother, would it be alright to buy more clay?” Dokja inquired, hand fidgeting behind his back. His elegant clothes shifted as he tried not to let his whole body move and give way to his nervous antics. His shoes scuffed the floor when he shuffled away when his mother approved.
Both his parents built a place for him to sculpt. With an endless supply of clay and beautiful sunlight that comes through the windows. Suncatchers shining onto the floor. Even if they were guards outside, Dokja never batted an eye when he comes through those doors.
The brass handle of the doors stained Dokja’s hands with a smell with how often he comes in and out, yet he didn't bother changing the handles. He sat down on his stool that faced a huge lump of clay. His bucket of water and tools were already prepared by the servants. (even though he told them that they didn't have to)
“Ahhh… where shall I begin today?” he asked out loud, as his hands glided on the supposed arm of the statue.
“How about my head? I would love to be able to see and hear you perfectly, love “
Dokja stood up slowly while his hands glided towards the head and looked at it critically. Hands now resting on either side of the head as he listened to his thoughts, “Alright, The head it is”. He bent down and got a handful of clay and his tools.
“Y’know, I never thought I would spend my time making a sculpture. I’ve always thought of just reading in the library or occasionally in the garden. Just reading novels all day long… what a dream to have” the prince sighed wistfully, his hand slowing on making the ears.
“I…I want to be king but the duties don't end. My father told me I won't be able to read as many books when I become king. The work is big for me. I could do it of course but, something feels wrong.” He mumbled. The pale hands that were dirtied with clay stopped slowly from the almost finished ears.
“Maybe that something will come through experience, you don't have to rush anything”
He continued sculpting quietly for a few moments, deep into thinking.
“Mother even started to accept suitors from other kingdoms or the nobles in ours. Telling me that mayhaps I've been too much of a shut-in.” Dokja said as he bent to get more clay for the eyes.
“Did you accept any of them?”
“What? You jealousssss?” He knows he's not talking to anyone, it's just fun when you talk with yourself sometimes.
No thought resounded, only silence.
The prince didn't bother continuing the conversation but just continue sculping with the wet clay. His hands now making the hair. Just the rough figure of it.
That continued throughout the day till the sun has set and the moon peeked out of the clouds. Just a prince sculpting someone he sees when he reads his books per his parent's request. Cause its honestly vexing, why need a sculpture when you can just say that the person he sees doesn't even exist?
—
The atmosphere was peaceful as the lights around the room ignite with magic. The sky outside the windows was dark and the man’s body is splattered with clay. Some of the clay even got below his fingernails.
“You should take rest, Dokja-ah “
He only hummed in acknowledgment, not really paying attention to the surroundings. Suddenly the windows on the porch slam open, making the cold wind go into the room and make half of the lights turn off.
“Huh? It’s been dark already? Oh- brrr! Fucking cold!” Dokja shouted as the cold air wrapped around his still wet body. He ran immediately to the closest towel he could find and covered his figure.
“ahahah!”
The sound of deep chuckling was heard but Dokja didn't mind one bit, just a teensy bit embarrassed. “Yeah, yeah. Laugh it up you bastard,” he muttered out as he grumbly removed excess clay from his body whilst he can before it dries up and make it hard to move.
” It’s dark now, shall I see you soon then love? “
He slowly stops wiping as he considered the words. Will he be able to see him soon? He doesn't really know… his schedule might be packed. “I shall”
Dokja came to the window of the porch and shut it. Not letting cold air permeate the room any further. He knew he has to meet a few suitors this week and meet his aunt but maybe he could sneak away from the dates.
The air was comfortable now, it would be bad if he leave now right? The remaining light blew off. Sighing out he went to the door that would lead his way back to his chambers.
“I have only accepted invites due to my father’s persistence. But I do not enjoy meeting most suitors” The crown prince said in the quiet room before he left, not waiting for a response. Shaking his head in dismay, wow talking to oneself is so exhausting.
He walked to the path of his chambers, already used to how many guards had stood in place.
–
Meetings, studies, and so much more things that had to be done during the week had made Dokja’s mind and body weak. He rode carriages to suitors and business partners so his feet are so tired. Hours upon hours on his feet had made blisters on his pale feet.
The maids had offered to massage them for him but the prince refused, saying “ I'm grateful for the offer but I'm alright” But he isn't. He wants to just sit down and rest, maybe read a book or three.
What is even more stressful is that there’s been a rumor of an assassination attempt on the royal family, HIS family. His mother and father tightened security once more when the rumor spread within the castle’s walls. This wasn't the first attempt.
Because Dokja is only an adopted child, a commoner, multiple nobles want his head on s silver platter. But Persephone, Hades, and multiple relatives had loved every little bit of him. Spoiled him to the top of his head till the tip of his toes.
Dokja simply bathed without any servants and went to bed. Those problems will be answered when the sun has risen up from the horizon.
–the start of a dream also nsfw–
Body worship? feet?
Dokja blinked his eyes blearily as he took in his surroundings, ‘ahh I must be dreaming. Before he could sit up he felt a pair of rough hands grab his waist and pulled him to a body full of warmth. “Oi, What the actual fuck?”. He finally realized he was naked as well in this dream, laying in a bed full of silk, and cotton and everything that he touch was soft.
A man loomed over him, chest and shoulders chiseled a Greek god. His hair was dark as the night sky outside the window but his face was absolutely gorgeous. Dear Jesus H Christ, look at those fucking biceps. Those look like they could pop a watermelon.
“Pay attention, love” the voice was soft yet deep. Soothing to the ear.
The man kissed Dokja’s neck slowly, tenderly even. Soft lips kiss and suckled his neck before arriving at his own lips. Finally kissing lips to lips. His hands groped and massaged his skin roughly, fanning the flame in the deeps of his belly. Even his own cock was stirring up in interest.
Dokja didn't get a chance to even asked the other’s name when a hand started to rub his cock into fullness. His toes curled in when the first spark of pleasure bloomed. The prince’s hands automatically held the arm that was holding his genitals in embarrassment.
“Wait wait- Ah! Your pants! Take the- mMmm ah- oofffff ” he whined as he subconsciously grind into the hand, pleasure taking over his head.
For a few seconds, the larger one let go of his dick to reorganize their postures. The smaller one now had one leg on the man's shoulder, and he was spread wide to be watched, to be observed. But the strangest part was when the man began licking his toes.
“Sorry, jagiya. You haven't made it yet” he chuckled as he continue jacking him off at a pace so slow. The cockhead was the callouses in the palms, his hands were bigger than his dick. The prince didn't register the response, body turning red as he watched his foot be kissed and suckled on.
It went on for a while. The man watching his body writhe and twitch with the spikes of pleasure. The dark pink tongue licked between each toe, cock twitching even more. But it wasn't enough, Dokja wants it faster but it would be embarrassing to say it. Oh definitely had to, or else this could take a while.
“J-ag-noooOooo!” He didn't finish before the pace slowed down even more. Hips jumped up to grind but another hand simply pushed him down, slipping out a whine in being denied.
“C’mon Dokja, what were you saying?” the man inquired his grin turning even meaner as he stopped suckling on his toes. Dokja moves his hands to grip the blanket below them.
He gulped before he say anything.
“Ja-jagiya, mmm. Please go faster?” he started to speak when the hand clutching his cock moved a bit faster. But when he closed his mouth the pace was suddenly fast and tighter. Dokja screamed and turned his head to the pillow to muffle them
The pleasure was coming too fast. His whole body involuntarily jerking, legs shaking and toes curling and stretching even more. “Jagiya! Jagi-ahh! Yeobo please” he started to sob, he's so close. His eyes filled with tears as he hid his face in the pillows.
Suddenly lips encircled his nipples and gave a good long hard suck. The man’s thumbs pressed earnestly into his cock’s slit and head. And fuck that was the final step. Dokja screamed and sobbed into the pillow as his cocks spurts out cum. His legs tensed and his fingers gripped the blanket too tight creating a rip.
“Ah was that too much? There, there yeobo. Everything feels nice now doesn't it?” He didn't reply, too focused on catching his breath.
“Go on love, rest. I shall be waiting for you” and rest he did.
–end of the dream–
Many months passed by, the prince overworking that even the kingdom’s people missed his visits. Dokja stopped going on dates with his suitors when more problem arises. People reporting of bandits and gangs, and how they felt unsafe.
Normal villages get raided by said bandits. Multiple had died, but most had lived. The guards getting more training on how many people had been injured.
Prince Dokja has eyebags over eyebags. His hands and feet felt so much pain and more callouses one could count. Had time to volunteer by giving out rations, visiting the people who were affected, helping build a blueprint for the families who became homeless, and even visiting an orphanage. ( Where he met two lovely children).
“Your royal highness, might I entice you into going to your suitor?” Sooyoung, one of his advisors and his best friend said. She wore simple but elegant robes, her pale hands holding papers and pens to write.
“Sooyoung-ah, stop with the formalities when there's no one around. It’s quite uncomfortable hearing you try to be nice” He said with a snicker, not bothering to look up as he read through another report with his glasses at the tip of his nose.
She barked out a laugh and place what she held onto the desk. Finally looking straight at the prince. If a guard came in and saw this display, Sooyoung would have been arrested for life.
“Oh c’mon you squid!! How's your man? Almost done yet?”
“He’s been done for a while now, just didn't have the heart to let him dry.”
“Does that mean I get to see it? Yes!!”
“No, you might ruin him with your ungracefulness if you meet him undry”
“Hmph. Suit yourself! I'm going to the stables”
“Yes, yes. With your ‘secret’ date with knight Sangha”
“You're just jealous that you don't have a date. Go back to loverboy, how many days has it been since you last met up with him? Oh that poor statue”
“6 days straight”
“You miss him don't cha?” Sooyoung exaggeratedly wagged her eyebrow at her friend.
“Every last second” He finally looked up. His eye bags were darker and his cheeks had sunken in, he must've lost weight due to the stress.
“Well think about my offer. I have to get ready before my date, Ta-ta! Your Royal Highness!” She left with the wind.
The room settles into a comfortable silence. And yet, Dokja fiddles with the corner of a document. He stared at the candle nearest to him whose flame flicker left and right.
“Mmm. Yea I should”
With a flick of his hand, the flame distinguished.
—
The color of the brass handle has been fading, Dokja stood infront of the door as he glazed his fingertips at the handle. Maybe this is a bad idea for the crown prince. If he steps through these doors he won't be able to come back out for a long time. He would be too busy sculpting, talking to him, and reading to him.
The guards stood by him as they guard the room, each holding a spear. The lanterns that lit the hallway were bright but quiet. Just flickering about.
He took a deep breath before opening the doors. Ah, there he is. The room was cluttered with books, fabrics, and candles. The prince flicked his wrist to ignite a few of those. The statue was in the middle of the room.
Dokja walked slowly towards him. The statue was cast by the moonlight from the windows which gave it a divine glow. As if saying he’s someone higher than human, a deity perhaps.
“I apologize for not coming in more frequently than I use to, dear..” he trailed off when he recognizes a few books by the front of the statue that were still open. ‘I swore I closed all the books I've read in this room... Huh, I must be getting forgetful these days’ he thought to himself.
Bending down to get a few of the books off the floor and flipped it to the cover page. All of the books he picked up, are all of his favorites. There was dry clay at some of the corners of the hardcover but he swiped it off.
“Look at you, reading the books I like. That isn't quite like you, hmm?” the prince said, finally looking up.
The statue's eyes are still the same, still frozen (as they should be). The physique of the statue was muscular but not buff, Dokja placed intricate scars as well to make him appear more human and not an object. Make him feel more real and reachable.
Candle wax melts with how long Dokja talked to the statue, who ‘talked’ back to create a conversation. Talked about how he felt about being the next king. When he met two children he would love to give them a better home. And what personality the statue would have.
Probably someone whos quiet yet caring. So caring that he would take Dokja away from the office to rest… It's nice to daydream.
“Ahhh even if you were real. I doubt you would like me. Both romantically and platonically. Probably think I'm annoying or something. Sigh, but even so. I would love to be a companion of yours. Even tho your devilishly handsome”
He imagine that the statue would have reddened ears instead of its cheeks. How cute.
“I think it's time to give you a name. It's hard to brag to my friends about you when I just call you H.I.M. I'm sure you know how I struggle?”
“Why not those petnames you’ve given to me?”
What the crown prince failed to realize, was how each of the candles he ignited was being blown out.
The prince sat down on the sofa after some time of standing and talking to the statue. He took a deep breath as he relax further into the cushions. When he blinked his eyes open, he finally realized how dark the room has began.
The air was no longer comfortable, his gaze flickered at every corner of the room.
There was a figure looming over him behind, their hands slow as they raise a dagger right above the crown prince’s head
“Watch out!” “Watch out!” the voices intertwined.
The prince was a second too late to move.
The dagger stabs him through his shoulder, poking right through his ribs (did it go through anything important?). He shouted in pain.
Dokja and the intruder were frozen in shock. As they watch the statue crack and move. The man moved with grace as he crack through the shell of hard clay. He wore only a drape of fabric but he made it look as if he were a deity who had multiple disciples or multiple offerings of how he made a drape look luxurious.
“SHIT,” the intruder said as he leaped away and ran straight to the door. Right as they opened the doors, the prince shouted.
“Guards! There's an intruder! Seize at once!”
It was pathetic to see the intruder on the floor with the guards over them.
The prince panted as he slowly look down at himself, watching his robes stain a dark red patch as it slowly grow. His breaths were shallow, his skin give off a sick color. “Oh god, will I die? Right before I meet him?”
His gaze blurred, right before he finally meets him.
–
The intruder was tortured by yours truly immensely, the man spilled out every secret he knew. Making almost all of the kingdom's problems disappear. The nobles were the ones who made every single problem.
The bandits? Them. The raids? Them. The increased criminal activity? Them. And so much more. The knight and the crown prince’s lover handled them. A handsome man clad in black royal drapes with gold trim.
The kingdom mourned as they wait for the prince to open his eyes. The king and queen called every doctor and healer from far and wide as they await their son’s recovery. “He has lost gallons of blood, he just needs to wake up, your majesty.” That was the answer of all of the doctors.
“He is healthy” was the summary, but does he have the will to wake up?
The healers gave multiple runes and spell to speed up recovery and upgrade the prince’s mana as a bonus.
The whole kingdom and his lover shall wait.
–bonus–
King Hades, Queen Persephone, and all of the crown prince's relatives stared down at the man who was kneeling before them. Black hair and guest clothes.
“What is your name?”
“He hasn't given me one yet, your majesty” the man gritted in anguish.
“What do you mean he hasn't? Who exactly are you, you imbecile.” Queen Persephone stood from her seat. Her emotions running out of control, the guards gripped their spears tightly as they await any order that might come their way.
“You don't recognize me, dear mother-in-law? I’m the one your son built. The statue he built and poured his soul into. He built me day and night just so he could be able to show you there is no one that is like me. You, mother-in-law, have visited us. To see if any suitors would be as close to I.” his throat started to hurt with how much shouting he was doing but he continued
“I talked to him when you wouldn't. Too busy you said. He was lonely and tired. I was there when he started to smile more. I was there when he was so tired of the suitors that he cried for days. You, both of you are his parents! Even if he hasn't formally met me. I would burn the world for him. How about you, your majesty? What have you done for your son who was suffering quietly?”
“W-what?” One of Dokja’s uncles whispered, then it began, the whispering and muttering.
The doors slammed open and stood the Queen’s sister. One of the highest mages on the entire continent.
Madam Aphrodite.
“Oh, it fucking worked!”
Who also had a hand in making the statue real. (with her magic of course)