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Once upon a time, a young prince was interacting with other nobles his age, playing around. At some point, he had gotten mad during a game when one of the kids had cheated. When he protested against the unfair action, the other kids had started making fun of him for getting so upset over a tiny act.
Caught up in his anger, he had yelled at the girl who had cheated in the first place, making all the others cry out in shock. She had gotten mad as well over this act, summoning the magic that had been in her family for centuries.
She delcared that he was to be cursed to forever be trapped in his anger and fury, unable to escape these emotions unless someone had truly accepted that they would always be a part of him. The girl smirked to herself, knowing there would never be a person in the world who would ever be fine with how the prince would act from here on out.
When their parents had found out, mainly through the young prince's violent outburst, the girl's father demanded that she return him to normal. However, since she was but a child, she was not yet aware of how to undo her curses yet, although she did try.
The prince was forced to live with this curse for many decades past the game, having been moved to an extra castle out in the forest, secluded from anyone he could hurt.
---
Riot had grown used to his life ever since that day. Sure, it was lonely living in a large castle by himself, but it was better than hurting people in the fits of rage he got often. Plus everything he needed was usually dropped off by a delivery person sent by his parents, and he could even request items if he wanted. They were doing their best to still support him even if they were too scared to approach, and honestly, he couldn't blame them.
The prince passed by one of the windows looking out into his garden, thriving with the plants and flowers he had tended over the years. His footsteps paused as his mind fully comprehended what he saw. Riot walked backwards until he had a clear view again, staring directly at the back of a man he didn't know who was just standing in front of one of his bushes. The rage inside him grew exponentially, as per the curse, and he didn't even try to stop how his footsteps shook the castle as he stormed outside.
"What do you think you're doing?!" Riot practically growled as he approached the unfamilar redhead standing in his garden. The man fumbled, almost dropping his sketchbook. It must've been surprising seeing a man who was at least a head taller than you with large muscles storming towards you.
He turned to Riot, looking a little scared, holding his book to his chest, "I- Um- I just wanted to draw some of the plants in your garden."
"Get out!"
"Yeah, that's fair. I'll leave." As the other person turned to leave, Riot paused. That was genuinely the first time anyone had validated his anger instead of trying to force him to deny it.
"You can stay."
The artist spun around, shock clear in his expression, "Are you sure? I mean, I was trespassing."
Riot scoffed, rolling his eyes and turning away, "You're just drawing. I don't see a problem."
"Really?! Thank you!" The other called out as the prince went back inside his castle.
It was strange. That was the first time in genuine years that he had been able to calm down quickly and actually have a civil conversation.
It must not have meant anything important. Right?
---
There was a knocking at the door. He hadn't heard a noise like that in years. Cautiously, Riot opened the door, just to see the artist from earlier.
"Oh. You again," Riot snarled.
The artist gave a polite wave and embarassed smile, "I apolgize for intruding so much, but I lost track of time and it's already dark out. I don't think I can go back home like this. May I stay here for tonight?"
Riot stared at him for a moment, brows furrowing. He really shouldn't. If how he acted towards people during his youth said anything, his attitude after several years in isolation wasn't likely to be an improvement. This artist really didn't do anything wrong. He didn't want to blow up on him over nothing.
But... This guy was the only person who had ever been able to lessen his anger. Shouldn't he investigate that more?
"Come inside," Riot grunted, moving aside to give the other space to walk in. The redhead beamed, stepping inside and politely wiping his feet on the doormat. "What's your name?"
"Nathaniel," The other offered up easily. It was kind of surprising to see someone give their name to someone who was so angry at them before. "What about you?"
"Ma... Riot."
Nathaniel hummed in interest but didn't push the matter further, instead just following Riot towards the guest room. He looked around in awe upon entering, eventually sitting down on the bed. Neither of them mentioned the dust showing how long it had been since it was last used. He placed his bag on the ground beside him, pulling out his sketchbook from that afternoon.
Riot should go. This was his first time interacting with a human in ages. He was definitely going to do something to mess it up, even if he didn't have the curse on him. Social anxiety was a pain.
Nathaniel glanced up, acutely aware of how stressed the large man seemed to be. He cleared his throat, holding up his drawings, "Would you like to look?"
Riot looked up, surprised at first, before cautiously approaching. It was a completely different demeanor than the angered person that afternoon. He quietly sat down besides Nathaniel, extremely curious about the art pieces. He gave a small awed gasp upon seeing the flowers drawn upon the page, each detail blending together into a magnificent piece. It was almost like staring at a black and white photograph of a section of his own garden.
"That's amazing," Riot whispered under his breath. "The details, the techniques, it's all so..."
Nathaniel smiled, flattered and a little flustered. Nobody had ever reacted like that to one of his pictures. "Thanks. That's nice."
"Your drawing skills are impeccable!" Riot broke into a ramble, eyes practically sparkling as he stayed staring at the flowers. This surprised Nathaniel a bit, but he still stayed silent to listen. "How many people commission you for art each day?! I can't imagine anybody would not want something from you!"
Nathaniel chuckled, looking away, a little embarrassed, "Actually, not a lot of people notice me that much."
"Really? You should really go back and advertise first thing in the morning!"
"I was actually wondering if I could stay here longer than just tonight? Your castle seems really fun to draw. Would you let me?" At Riot's raised eyebrow, Nathaniel blushed, quietly explaining, "I got inspired when walking through the halls."
Riot practically beamed, nodding, "That'd be great!"
He was feeling happiness.
This was wrong, everything was going to go wrong, he was going to blow up and destroy what little connections he had with Nathaniel at this moment, and the artist would never come back, and he would spread rumors and the townspeople would come to burn his castle down, and-
Riot stood up curtly, turning on his heel as Nathaniel watched him, intrigued. The prince grit his teeth to force down the rage building up from the curse as he quietly said, "Good night."
---
Nathaniel wasn't deaf. He could hear the way Riot was destroying things around the castle each night. It had only been a week since he started staying here too. (And honestly, Nathaniel was considering just asking to move in. It's not like he had any connections in the village besides that one guy who seemed obsessed with him (Emani? Something like that, he never bothered learning). Plus Marc was really fun to hang out with! And also the whole castle thing too.)
The forced smiles at time, clenched jaws, easily triggered irritability, it was all familar to him.
It was just like how Nathaniel used to be.
He wasn't exactly sure what had happened to Riot to cause him to be living in a castle by himself, but he suspected the anger issues might be a part of it. From what he could guess, they had caused Riot to isolate himself to not let other people see them.
Nathaniel had tried that strategy once upon a time. It only worked for so long before all the emotions bubbled to the surface and exploded. He had been through the consequences of that action. Riot had only been kind to him throughout his whole trip, despite his initially rough exterior.
There must've been something he could do, right?
---
Riot sat besides Nathaniel on the stairs, quietly looking over the artist's shoulder as he drew the entryway of the castle. This had become one of their daily routines.
"You know, when I was upset with my own drawings, I would tear them up."
Riot gasped in shock, both from the sudden admission and the content of it. He couldn't imagine such a thing happening. Nathaniel was an amazing artist. How could he make a bad piece?
And even besides that, he never saw the redhead as one to do physical actions in relation to his negative emotions. Nathaniel was a mostly stotic person. Riot had always thought he'd bottle his emotions up if anything.
"It was just a way to deal with the frustration," Nathaniel continued, not looking up from his drawing. "Now I don't. I have a vent journal now that I scribble in."
Riot hummed, glancing down towards the ground again. He hadn't heard of something like that as a way to release anger.
"I hear you destroying things at night. Why don't you do something else?"
Riot squeaked, not expecting Nathaniel to know about that. "...I don't really know. I was always taught anger could only be released through destroying things."
"Why don't you do something else?" Nathaniel offered, finally looking up from his drawing. He placed a hand on Marc's arm, slowly trailing it over the muscle. "You're pretty buff already. Do you exercise?"
The body mainly came from him throwing things around during his fits of rage, but Nathaniel didn't need to know that.
The artist seemed to take Riot's silence as a no, "As far as I'm aware, that's a good way to vent. Wanna try that?"
"Oh.. um... Sure?"
Nathaniel had spent the next couple of days helping to modify one of the rooms Riot never used into an exercise area.
He slept easier after that, not having to listen to the sounds of items breaking as he fell asleep.
---
Nathaniel and Riot had grown even closer than they already had been after that day. He could even say he was in love with the other man.
It strongly felt like Riot had returned his feelings, what with the addition of a fancy suit left on his bed, along with a note that requested him to go to ballroom that evening wearing it. Nathaniel couldn't help the dumb smile on his face as he read it, cheeks red.
When he had went to the room to see Riot, the other man was also in his own suit. Riot looked up at him as he walked into the ballroom, eyes widening at the sight. He was not expecting Nathaniel to look that good.
The artist giggled, giving him a slight bow, "How do I look?"
"Amazing," Riot breathed out, eyes still following him as Nathaniel approached.
"You as well," Nathaniel responded with a small blush. "Any reason for coming here dressed like this?"
Riot held out his hand with a small smile, "I remember you said you always wanted to go to an extravagent dance. This may have less guests, but I hope it suffices."
Nathaniel blinked up at awe in him, gladly accepting the offer. Nobody had ever done something like this for him before. Showing how much they truly cared about his wants and desires while actually putting in an effort to make them come true.
They spun around in the room for a while, dancing to the music they made with their steps and laughs. Riot was even strong enough to lift Nathaniel off the ground entirely, swinging him along. After a while, they finally had to take a break, slumped against a wall together, still laughing about the experience.
"It's been a while since I've had that much fun with someone," Riot admitted with a shy smile, looking away bashfully.
"That's mainly because of you," Nathaniel responded, tone slightly teasing, "People are really missing out if they're just scared of the anger issues."
Riot paused, curling up into himself slightly.
"Sorry, I was overstepping-"
"No, it's fine," Riot reassured, sighing, "It's... a bit more complicated than that."
Riot talked about his past for hours, Nathaniel listening attentively, the explanation lasting until the sky turned dark and lit up with stars.
"So... yeah, that's why I get mad so easily," Riot murmured, "Stupid curse."
"Are you really that affected by it?"
Riot looked at him, expression neutral but confusion clear.
"You still garden. You still know how to dance." Nathaniel shrugged, "You always knew how to control that anger. It was a part of you even before the curse. It always will be."
Riot scowled, glaring at the ground. Maybe Nathaniel was right. But he didn't like to be reminded of the worst aspect of himself.
The redhead sitting besides him hummed, looking up at the ceiling and curling further into Riot's side, "You know what I think your problem is? You think it's an issue. You think being angry at anything is bad now, regardless of whether it was justified or not." Nathaniel glanced over, placing a hand over Riot's. "Rage, anger, things like that? It's always been natural. The people around you just didn't accept that. So they convinced you any sort of negative feeling was an overreaction."
Riot stared at him in wonder and amazement. How was he supposed to respond to that? A deconstruction of everything he had been taught in life. But he couldn't deny the truth of the words being spoken to him. Nathaniel really did like him as is. He didn't care about the outbursts he would have. The artist would simply help him transfer his emotions to a healthy outlet. That's what he had been doing this entire visit, hadn't he?
Nathaniel smiled, raising his hand and cupping Riot's cheek, "I know you think the anger is hard to deal with, but I promise I'll be here to help for as long as you need me. That's the least I can do for the person I love."
"You... love me?"
"I do," Nathaniel reassured, voice soft and soothing.
Riot gasped, barely remembering to whisper back, "I love you too."
Before either of them could react, a bright light emanated from Riot's chest, making both of them shield their eyes and Nathaniel retract his hand. When it finally faded, Nathaniel was surprised to see a completely different man sitting there. His hair and generally stature was shorter and there was a lot less muscle on his body. But he knew deep down it was still Riot.
He felt his face again, still in shock, "I'm... not cursed anymore."
Nathaniel chuckled, reaching over to hold his hand, giving it a comforting squeeze, "Welcome back. Was Riot your name before or...?"
"My real name is Marc," He was finally able to say after years of feeling dissociated from that title.
Nathaniel smiled back at him, expression soft and loving, "That's a nice name."