Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

If Till had to describe his life in one word, it would be lonely. Sure, he had acquaintances in uni, and he gets along with them well enough. But they’re not close enough for him to go out of his way to spend time with them.

It’s been like this since childhood – experiences having taught him that it’s better to just keep a distance, lest he wants to be hurt later on.

So that’s how he finds himself in his room, scrolling through various social media, opening, and closing them like a broken record.

He knows how pathetic it must look, but what else is there to do really? His assignments have been handed in already, and there’s no way he’s gonna subject himself to looking over them once more, no matter how bored he is.

He sighs, spinning in his chair, only to end up facing his laptop once more. A scroll through Twitter. Another spin. A scroll through Instagram. Spin spin. He’s going to end up dizzy at this rate…

He sighs heavily. Scroll scroll scroll… is there really nothing to do?

Till purses his lips, looking over to his guitar, then to the stack of papers in a corner. He could practice… he could draw… he could compose…

But truth be told, none of that sounds particularly interesting. Back to scrolling.

Posts blur into a memoryless mess and Till can feel his being rot in real time. Seriously… what do normal people do in a situation like this?

His eyes land on a shitty ad promoting an equally shitty looking otome game, and against his better judgment he clicks to download.

If nothing else, he can laugh at how bad it is right? And in his situation, honestly anything seems better than continuing to waste away like he has.

The plot ends up being predictable and boring, playing in some kingdom called Anakt Kingdom (a shit name, if you ask him), but he can at least admit that the characters don’t look too bad… the main character Mizi is cute, and likable enough. The main love interests are fine too, though they do annoy Till quite a bit. That Luka guy is a freak, and that Ivan guy is kinda weird too. At least they’re easy enough on the eyes.

And the side characters are actually likable, so that’s a plus.

Till thinks Mizi can do better than Luka or Ivan – hello?? Sua is right there? Or Hyuna? Way better love interests.

The main villain is boring as fuck – he doesn’t even have a face for fucks sake! Kidnap the main character, have her chosen love interest save her, and then die off-screen for his crimes. Boring.

But at least the game did the trick, killing enough time for it to become reasonable for Till to just sleep off his boredom. Hopefully tomorrow he can do something more interesting.

Till wakes up and immediately panics.

He’s not in his room. In fact, he isn’t anywhere he recognizes.

Did he get kidnapped!? Why!? He’s just a broke college student! Wait – what if he’s going to get his organs harvested!? He can’t die yet!? He hasn’t even achieved anything in life! Please… he just wants a degree at least! Dying before getting at least one achievement is just sad, okay!?

He slips out of bed (Huzzah! He can move!) looking around frantically. Slowly he calms down, realizing the place looks much too fancy for it to be somewhere poor students (like himself!!!!) get their organs harvested.

Then he panics again, because why the fuck did someone kidnap him!? He’s poor! He’s just a college student! Oh god what if it’s a creep!? A stalker!? He should run… yes, he should make a break for it!

Quickly he rips the door open (which holy shit, it’s not locked, maybe he can survive this after all!!!) taking a quick look left and right, then running into the hallway and off to the left, without looking back or stopping, feet echoing on the ground as he goes.

“M-my lord?”

A startled voice causes him to freeze in place, not moving an inch, hoping that if he just stays still enough, he’ll be unseen.

Unfortunately, he isn’t, and the person takes a hesitant step towards him.

“Is- Is everything alright… my lord?”

Wait ‘my lord’??? Is that him? What??? Oh god is his creepy stalker some big shot who is trying to win him over in this weird fucked up way?

Slowly he unfreezes to face the other person.

“Uhm… me?”

Now that he looks at them, the other person looks scared for some reason… maybe he can ask them for a way out and then he’ll move far far away and escape whoever – wait no, he has uni. Fuck.

Okay… Okay, he can at least ask them for a way out.

“Yes… My lord. Is something wrong? You are awake unusually early…? Ah – I apologize if the bedding was not to your liking, I will find the person responsible and reprimand them without delay, I swear it will be done more properly –“

Till tunes the person’s rambling out, idly nodding along, now taking the opportunity to look around a little more. This place is weirdly familiar, now that he thinks about it… but he’s sure he’s never been to a fancy place like –

His face grows pale, a shocked gasp escaping him, causing the person talking to him to cut their words short, flinching in fear.

With wide eyes, he grabs them by the shoulders, shaking them ever so slightly.

“Hey. Hey you. Where are we right now!?”

The person just gives him an utter look of confusion, fear slowly fading.

“We are in Anakt Kingdom, my lord.”

He swears, someone out there has it out for him and promptly turns around to go back to bed. Maybe the next time he wakes up, this’ll turn out to be one shitty nightmare.

Chapter Text

When Till wakes up, it turns out it wasn’t just a nightmare. Now, in a significantly worse mood, Till seeks out the person he was talking to earlier. He already confused the shit out of them after all, so no harm in confusing them even more.

After the talk, Till has decided.

A) This is one shitty prank or B) he’s stuck inside a fucking Otome game as the fucking villain. He’s not sure which option is preferable.

One thing is sure though, if it’s option B) then he’s fucking doomed. (Well, he’d probably be doomed in option A) too, but shhh…)

The villain died! Off-screen! Till doesn’t want to die! He’s too young to die!

And so, it’s time to make a plan.

Locking himself into ‘his’ room, Till instructs the person (their name is Acorn APPARENTLY. Poor kid, their parents really set them up, huh?) to not let anyone bother him, almost manically writing down everything he remembers about the game.

It’s harder than he imagined, most of his memories blurred into one mess, but at the end of it, he at least has a rough guideline and a plan.

Everything the villain did? He’ll do the opposite!

Scare the ever-living shit out of those around him? Actually be nice.

Obsess over the main character? Avoid her at all costs.

(As a side note, he also refuses to be boring. If all fails and he still dies, he’ll at least want to be remembered… maybe do something of note.)

And also, maybe find a way back home. That has somehow moved to the bottom of his priority list though. He’s pretty sure no one will miss him, and planning survival before planning his escape seems reasonable.

Even though he’s determined not to get involved with the main characters, there’s still a lot to do to prevent his death.

And that includes not neglecting his dukely duties… or something. Look, he doesn’t know either, okay!? He’s not from a monarchy or whatever this is! He’s already struggling with his clothes (WAY TOO MANY LAYERS FOR A CASUAL STROLL!?), he doesn’t even wanna think about all the paperwork he’s supposed to be doing, or people he’s supposed to be seeing!

Speaking of people – Till finds he has a strong dislike for most that seek him out, either trying to bribe their way to a favour or similar.

He can’t really say he’s surprised since he’s supposed to be the villain of the story, but that doesn’t make him feel any better about it.

He sighs, glaring at the space in front of him before promptly leaving the ‘throne’ room (ego much? It doesn’t even look good!! Also, his ass hurts from how uncomfortable the chair is!) he’s been confined to while listening to request after request, startling those around him, yet he pays no mind.

He spends the rest of the day napping, drawing, even composing a simple melody.

It’s fun… not much different from his life before, minus the uni assignments of course. He vows to make more of an effort to do his tasks the next day, reasoning to himself that it’s just his first day, and he deserves to take it a little easier.

He breaks that promise to himself. In his defence though, it’s really hard to listen to people try to sweet talk you for stupid shit.

So instead, he spends the day – or at least what remains of it, pestering Acorn into helping him cook.

The other is wary of him, not that Till can blame him. He’s working on it though! He can use someone to talk to…

The following days are spent in a familiar fashion, pestering Acorn into doing random things with him, or continuing his composition as inspiration strikes, sometimes even dropping whatever he had been doing with Acorn without so much as a word.

It had startled the other before, but by now it seems, he has grown somewhat used to Till suddenly running off to grab pen and paper. At the very least he doesn’t flinch every time it happens anymore. And conversation has become less stilted, which is a big win! (Though Till is still working on getting him to drop the ‘my lord’… maybe one day.)

Days pass by, and Till slowly grows more comfortable with his new life.

It’s not as bad as he would have imagined on the first day! In fact, he even enjoys some parts of it!

Sure, there’s draw backs too, but it’s a fair trade off, he supposes.

That having been said, there are some things that Till still wants to do, and though he does put in an effort to at least handle some of the paperwork every day and hear some people out on how they want to extort- errr borrow money from him, he does ditch after a while.

Peeling off layers of clothes, to throw on a more simple looking cloak, he leaves the estate, wandering without a destination in mind.

After all, if he is to stay here for a long time (and hopefully survive) it’s good to explore. (Though really, he just wants to avoid talking to more losers.)

The scenery is nice at least… Till almost regrets not bringing pen and paper. Oh well, there’s always next time. Who knows, maybe he’ll see something even more worth drawing.

Till does not, in fact, find anything more worth drawing. Quite the opposite – he finds a scene of pain and suffering.

He smells decay before he sees it, rotting flesh and plants, nauseatingly strong in his nose and only barely is he able to keep himself from throwing up.

Every cell in his body screams, demands, he run away, yet his feet continue on, smell almost doubling by the time he comes to gaze upon what is causing it.

There, before him, lies a town, one he can imagine once held beauty and prosperity, now nothing more than a cemetery, corpses littering the streets, both young and old.

Till is only able to gaze at it for a moment before he forces his eyes away, heaving into a hand, desperately trying not to soil the place any further.

There’s a weak scream behind him, too young for comfort, and Till turns around just in time to see a too frail body run towards him, shard of glass held as one would a weapon, pointed at none other than him.

Eyes wide and frozen in place, Till can only watch the body collapse, only a few steps in front of him – chest heaving with considerable effort before going still.

And yet Till doesn’t move, does not dare to, staring at the body, staring staring staring, unblinking even as his vision blurs, his eyes burning.

It’s as though only the two of them exist, the corpse and Till, Till and the corpse, only one of them alive, only one of them breathing, yet neither moving.

The world feels too small in that moment, constricted around Till in an icy hold, his breath too loud in his own ears, yet sounding too far away, as though it isn’t his own at all.

And it hurt, everything hurts. A small voice in his mind whispers that he shouldn’t be upset, that he should continue like normal because he’s not dead. He’s not the dead one, even if maybe, just maybe he should have been.

A shake of the head, erratic and jerky. No. No, that’s not… he isn’t… this isn’t his fault at all! He didn’t choose to be the villain! Clearly, it’s whoever was here before Till’s fault.

… Even if to everyone in this world it seems like it’s Till’s fault, evident from the attempt to kill him.

A loud sob rips out of his throat, legs giving out underneath him, sending Till to the floor.

This isn’t fair… it’s not fair! He’s just a uni student… he didn’t ask for this!

For the first time since his arrival Till is filled with extreme dread and a kind of homesickness so suffocating, he is left gasping for air, hand reaching to his throat, clawing at it, as though trying to remove an invisible rope cutting off his airways.

The world spins, dark spots dancing in his vision, and yet he remains awake for each agonizing second, face now pressed against the ground beneath him, breathing in dirt and death.

Words burn on his tongue, heavy as iron. He wants to call out for help, beg any who may hear him, yell for –

No one. Absolutely no one. This world or his, would anyone come if he asked them to? His friends? From Uni? No… no, he can’t imagine that no matter how much he wishes.

Acorn? He doubts it. Despite Till’s efforts, he’s sure the other is still scared.

Ah… who can blame him? The world wants him dead, after all. For deeds not his own.

Another sob, this one far more sorrowful. Till cries, for the child that died, for himself, for the unfairness of it all.

He just wants to go home…

Chapter Text

When Till somehow manages to make his way back, it has become dark, shadows wrapping around the world and any who step in it.

Till had never minded the dark before, often staying up until late himself, but now? Every small movement is met by a flinch, every noise causing the hairs on his stand up, and he buries himself into bed without so much as a word to anyone, not even bothering changing into something more comfortable.

Though exhaustion courses through him, his mind leaves him unable to speak, much too loud and quiet at the same time, haunted by only the wish for home.

A shuddering sigh escapes him, and he forces his eyes shut, restlessly waiting for sleep to come.

When it does, eventually, it brings no relief, dreams reflecting the cruel reality he had been forced to face.

He dreams of home, or rather the place he’s supposed to be at, dreams of sitting alone at night, boredom plaguing his mind as it so often had.

And then he dreams of a child, dreams of their family, dreams of monsters that come to tear it apart — waking with a scream, eyes burning with tears.

The sun has started to rise, wispy shadows replaced with curtains of light, bouncing off the world.

As it is now, the world remains suspended in animation, peaceful, untouched, Till the only disturbance as he rises from bed.

He’s not ready to start the day, wants nothing more than to sink back into bed and remain there.

Yet he doesn’t, changing into simple clothes, the ones he had woken with on his first day.

As he sneaks past closed doors and into the kitchen, Till can’t help but flinch at every small noise to echo out, eyes blown wide in fear, darting around to check, just in case… just in case.

The world wants him dead. He knows it, knew he was destined to die at the end of the ‘game’ anyway.

But Till, maybe selfishly, doesn’t want to. He wants to live, even now.

A shaky exhale. Inhale. A few blinks to stop his eyes from watering.

Can he do this? It seems like such an impossibly big task now.

Till had only been worried about what he remembers of the game itself, had never stopped to think that maybe the character he has found himself masquerading as, had always been hated, that even without doing what had been shown in game Till would be killed.

Inhale… exhale. For now… for now, he should eat something. Pretend it’s a normal day. He has uni soon, yeah? He should prepare for that.

It’s not easy to pretend when his surroundings look so different, but Till thinks he does an alright job nonetheless, and gaslighting himself into thinking that everything that happened was just a terrible dream works wonders for his productivity.

He made food! That’s… the bare minimum.

A sigh. It’s fine… he’s fine. It’ll all be okay.

He even made enough to share with Acorn. The thought of being alone is unbearable, so at least… even if he’s forced to be around Till, it’s better than nothing?

Acorn isn’t hard to find. If you know where his room is. Which Till doesn’t.

And so he spends at least half an hour looking around, scaring several people on his way.

The food is cold by the time Till corners him into having breakfast together, but it could be worse.

After breakfast, Till watches. Watches everyone in the estate go through daily life, silently, without a single word. He’s more aware this time, of the flinches his presence brings, of the worried glances that are exchanged as his gaze washes over each person, the relieved sighs when he turns to leave without any further action.

It hurts, but there’s nothing he can do about it, right? It’s not his fault at all… all he can do is continue through life and hope they realize he’s not a bad person at all… right?

What else could he even do!? It’s not like he has any experience ruling a region or being responsible for more than himself!? Seriously… what’s he supposed to do!

A hopeless sigh, head dropping into his hands. This isn’t good at all. If he lets everything stay the same…

Till forces himself to straighten up, quickly rushing towards his room.

Papers are laid out, pens scattered on the floor next to him, as he plops down and starts to sketch. The village, the child, everything he remembers, no matter how painful.

Seeing all of it laid out so neatly in front of him, Till can’t help his eyes watering again, a shaky sigh escaping him.

Deep breath in… and out. Focus. He has to figure this out.

Another sheet of paper is laid out. Eyes glued to the sketches, he writes down anything he can think of – the issues, the possible solutions, just… whatever!

Soon the paper is filled, followed by another sheet and another and another.

He glides his tongue over his bottom lip – dry and chapped, cracks forming with a faint taste of blood. A slight pain shoots out from them, and though not pleasant, it grounds him in the moment, chases away the fog in his brain, which had started to form from exhaustion.

Glancing out the window, Till finds that the sun has begun to set already, time forgotten as he worked.

He glances to his other side. A single light has been lit, small flame illuminating the room.

An airy laugh escapes Till, lips quirking into a weak smile. At least… if only a little… it seems someone is willing to look out for him.

Till doesn’t sleep that night, tirelessly throwing random ideas around in his mind, writing them down, crossing them out moments later, or linking them together until words blur into one, the distinct lack of caffein in his veins making itself noticeable.

Hopefully this world had some sort of coffee, or he might just cry.

With a reluctant sigh, Till drags himself into bed, falling into a dreamless rest.

He wakes a few hours later, thoroughly disoriented and hardly feeling any better, but once he spots the scattered papers, Till is up and moving once more, haphazardly pushing them into a messy stack. Off to breakfast.

Acorn stares at him with a face of horror, as the papers are dumped on the breakfast table, only barely avoiding being dunked in food.

Till plops down in his chair and grins.

“Read through them for me and tell me your opinion.”

Acorn looks wary at best, but Till can’t really care about that right now. He’s trying his best… hopefully it would be enough.

And in the meantime, food.

Acorn takes well past breakfast time to read through everything. Not that Till minds. It means he’s paying close attention to all of Till’s scribbling (well probably).

Till for his part, spends the day reading up on whatever he can find about the world.

As it turns out, Till is located within the biggest kingdom of the continent, only outmatched by one on a different continent, both of which content to keep the peace, even having established multiple trade routes.

‘Till’s’ duchy spans some of the coast, which is where many resources, as well as merchants travel through on their way to the capital. (Terrible news really, Till didn’t study economy for fucks sake!)

Beyond that, there are also many smaller countries which border the kingdom, yet none of them border Till’s area, so he doesn’t worry about them too much. Most of them seem to be on peaceful terms with the kingdom anyway, only few cross-border attacks noted in what he reads.

More important to Till is what goes on inside the kingdom. His own area aside, there is also the capital and more importantly the royal family.

He already knows some of them of course, them being Ivan and Sua, but he hardly knows the other members of the family, only seeing them in passing in the game.

The king seems to be well liked, though it’s kind of hard to tell whether the praises the texts sing him are genuine or not.

A fair king, it seems, just in his methods and overall, the kingdom is shown to prosper under his rule.

(The books also mention that his son, Ivan, seems to be just as kind and just as the king himself, but Till knows better!! He played the damn games, and that guy is a freak!)

The queen is mentioned less, though she seems well liked by her people, gentle and graceful in any public experiences.

Till taps a finger against the book, face pulling into a frown.

If that’s true though… if the king really is as good as they say, what about the town? … Was that the previous duke’s fault? It would certainly explain the hatred for Till, wouldn’t it?

He’s pulled out of his thoughts by a hesitant call of his title.

His eyes meet Acorn’s and with a small sigh, he snaps the book shut, walking over to meet the other.

“Whassup? Whatch- What do you think?”

Till still has to get used to more formal talk… much too casual for a duke as he is. Probably.

He doesn’t actually know. Maybe he’s high enough rank to be allowed to do what he wants?

Then again, maybe it’s better to get used to something more formal, just in case he ever has to deal with other nobles. (Though he’s still very much intent on avoiding the main bunch!)

Acorn furrows his brows, handing Till a few papers.

“I believe these would be most efficient for a change, but…”

Hesitancy crosses the other’s face.

“Why this sudden change in directions, my lord?”

Why indeed… it’s not like Till can just say that he’s a completely different person!

“I… well. Do I need a reason to want to do better?”

Acorn still looks doubtful (fair enough), but Till will take what he can get.

Chapter Text

Ivan wouldn’t call his life hard. No far from it, nowadays, it seemed whatever he wanted, he could get, as long as he kept up appearances.

That isn’t to say that he doesn’t know hardship. In fact, growing up, it seemed like his life was nothing but that, memories of the slums, of hunger and overwhelming despair still plague his dreams even years later.

Now, having experienced as much as he has, even in his short time alive, Ivan hopes for nothing more than to help the kingdom in the way his now father, had helped him.

After all, it was hardly fair that he of all people would get this chance. It could have been anyone, in the end.

And yet… life feels dull, happiness overshadowed by such a void of nothingness, that he sometimes believes his world to be wrapped in static grey.

Though he has a purpose in life, always working towards it, all his actions feel empty. Like he’s solely working off of the script he set out for himself, without any surprises to brighten his day.

Maybe he should be glad. Glad that his life has become nothing but peace and yet…

Today too, would be bland. His father sent him, along Hyuna, his personal knight out to one of the dukedoms, to check in and make sure all is up to code.

Ivan had never particularly liked the duke, had always suspected shady dealings in the corners of the territory, but any investigations he sent out would lead him to abandoned villages, lacking off any proof, despite the implications.

As much as he appreciates his father’s fairness, in cases such as these, he thinks the burden of proof should be foregone in favour of saving lives.

When they arrive, they are greeted by the servants of the duke’s estate. Ivan notes their tired looks, once ever so present at their arrivals, have faded since the last time he visited, now closer to something he would expect from any person after a day’s work.

The duke himself is nowhere to be found… a rather odd occurrence, as usually, he would be meeting Ivan at the gates, but Ivan doesn’t mind it, perfectly content avoiding that slimy man for now.

The insides of the estate look much different than Ivan remembers, much more barren, many of the ornaments he had come to detest now missing – a ploy to make him feel more comfortable? He had thought he had hidden his feelings on the matters suitably well, but it seems not…

Ivan and Hyuna are led to the dining room, Ivan sitting down while Hyuna stands a little to the side, behind him.

The duke still remains unseen. A new tactic to throw him off? What a tricky man.

Moments pass, yet no one shows. It wanes at Ivan’s patience, but in a life of dullness, what’s a few more?

Finally, the doors are thrown open, yet rather than the sight of the duke, Ivan is met with another servant, this one wearing an apologetic expression as he addresses Ivan.

“My apologies your highness, my lord will see you soon…”

He bows his head apologetically. Then, with a soft chuckle, and an almost fond smile, Ivan would have never attributed to a servant of this estate, adds, “My lord fell asleep just before you arrived, you see. And as sleep has evaded him for quite some time, I thought it best to allow him some rest, if only just a little longer.”

Ivan nods, smiling politely.

“Of course, sleep is an important thing!”

What could he be planning… the duke wasn’t known for hard work, known to keep things up to status, yes, but never for putting in a lot of effort.

What was so pressing he would forego sleep?

Ivan continues to ponder on the issue, until at last, the duke arrives, throwing the doors open then freezing in his steps, eyes locking onto Ivan with what seems like fear, before willing his expression into something more neutral.

Interesting…

Admittedly, the duke looks and acts quite different from how Ivan remembers, almost more open than he remembers, something softer than the sneering pride Ivan had come to be accustomed to reflecting in his eyes, dark rings beneath them in a way that almost has Ivan worrying for him.

The duke stalks over, flopping into the seat with lack of any grace, then looks up, only glancing at Ivan for a second before his eyes land on Hyuna, remaining on her.

The look of utter confusion Ivan finds in his face now almost startles a laugh out of him, and he only barely stifles it beneath a cough.

Hyuna for her part remains unfazed only raising an eyebrow with a “What?” that leaves no room for criticism in her presence.

The duke blinks. Once, twice, then tilts his head, in a way Ivan would liken to a cat, if it were any other man.

“Aren’t… you sitting down?”

This time, Ivan can’t stifle his laughter, both from the question and the utter uncertainty in the other’s words.

A glare is directed his way for it, the duke’s face burning with shame.

“Whatever!”

The duke coughs into his hand, taking a deep breath to steady himself.

“What… was it you wanted to discuss?”

With that, the Ivan’s amusement is pushed into a corner of his mind, and he begins to explain.

Till is so not prepared for this! He wasn’t expecting to have to meet Ivan today!? Or ever for that matter!? Nor was he prepared to be humiliated! Sue him for not knowing proper court etiquette or whatever!?

Once Ivan begins to explain the purpose of his visit, things become far easier though.

Just a routine check-up. Till didn’t change anything about the trade stuff, so things should be fine…?

It is, luckily, Till wouldn’t have known what to do if it hadn’t been, and Ivan soon leaves.

Till too, makes haste to get going. He had planned to make a stop to a village nearby today.

A month has passed now, since his harrowing experience in the previous village, and since, Till had devoted himself to making sure all the other villages under his care were actually cared for.

Truth be told, most of his actual dukely duties had been passed to Acorn by now – Till’s time spent with too much travel and making plans for improvement, but it didn’t seem like the other was complaining and Till himself found this role much better for himself as well.

It had been hard at first, earning the trust of his people, but Till likes to think that at least a few villages are willing to trust his good faith now. At least they don’t look at him like he’s insulting the earth by walking on it anymore. Improvement!! He’ll take it where he can get it.

Today’s visit is merely to discuss some things with the head of the village, and afterwards… a scowling face comes to mind, and a voice sounding suspiciously like Acorn scolds him for overworking. Maybe he can afford a little break…

The village he’s visiting is beautiful after all, having grown far from the oppressive atmosphere it had been stuck under.

Ivan only barely has the time to react when Hyuna turns them around on the spot, chasing after a carriage leaving the estate, a string of protests leaving his mouth falling on deaf ears, a bright grin on her face.

“C’mon! Didn’t you wanna investigate the guy too? He was acting totally suspicious, wasn’t he? Well, here’s our chance!”

Ivan chuckles quietly, letting Hyuna do as she pleases. He knows she doesn’t like the duke either, knows she wants nothing more than to see him be brought to justice. And she’s right, this is the perfect chance to investigate.

Not soon after, they arrive in a village, and honestly? Ivan looks around and finds nothing of value for the duke here.

It is merely a village in the middle of nowhere, not close to any bigger city, nor rich in any resources.

Still, if the duke chose to come here of all places, there must be something worth investigating for Ivan, no?

With a nod to Hyuna, they set out, asking around the village, investigating any leads they may come across.

To Ivan’s surprise however, the villagers speak well of the duke, far different than he remembers of past investigations.

They speak of his kind nature, of the fortune he brought them, of how he reminded the old woman of her son, of how he acts as a big brother to the children.

It is not at all the nature Ivan had come to associate with the duke, so incompatible with the man and the image Ivan had crafted of him inside his head, that it feels like the village is playing a joke on him, taking the puzzle pieces he had so carefully uncovered and throwing them into a fire, an image rising out of the flames, so beautiful Ivan couldn’t help but reject it.

It's impossible. The duke isn’t a good person. Hyuna, Sua, Luka, they all agreed on that. Sua had even thrown him a pitying glance when their father had asked him to go check on the dukedom.

And yet, even when the villagers touch on the duke’s flaws, they don’t seem to despise him for them, almost fond when they speak, in a way Ivan could recognize in the way the capital spoke of his father.

Maybe the duke wished to fool Ivan, show him one village, who’s trust he had earned while others suffered.

He nods to himself. That must be it.

A gentle voice draws him out of his musings, a soft tune filling the air, stopping him in his tracks.

Rounding the corner, Ivan finds the source, surrounded by a group of children, attentively listening.

Seeing him like this, the duke’s features soft, emotions worn out in the open in an expression of joy, lips stringing together words almost effortlessly, Ivan can’t help but be captivated.

He hides, almost scared of what the sight stirs in him.

Such beautiful features… Ivan had noticed them of course, but never dwelled on them, disliking the prideful, almost slimy smirk they had come with.

But loathe he is to admit it, seeing those same features twisted into something so delicate and soft, and paired with such an enchanting voice, left his heart fluttering wildly, as though attempting to escape from his chest and join the children gathered around the duke.

He could understand now, why the villagers spoke of him with such fondness. Certainly, no mortal man could hope to be unaffected by such a sight?

Even one like Ivan, who had held nothing, but suspicion had been captivated, the overwhelming urge to protect the expression he had seen sparking up in him.

A shaky smile appears on his face. The static grey had left him, for the first time in years, and the one who had saved him was the duke he and his friends knew as evil.

Chapter Text

Ivan is unsure what to do now. While he can’t exactly deny how vibrant his once dull world feels, the fact of the matter remains — he has reason to believe the duke to be deceitful and harmful to the kingdom.

As the prince, he does have a duty to his people, he owes them as much, and yet… 

His life had been so utterly dull, lacking any sort of joy or sorrows that he’d been absolutely exhausted by it.

And now that he had experienced the feeling of being alive, properly alive, he is meant to throw it away in favor of his people? Of a duty that held no joys? 

It is mere suspicion, he reasons to himself, there is no reason to act on them — surely none would fault him for such? After all, even his father valued concrete proof over mere suspicions, no matter how convincing they may seem.

But if they were to be confirmed, if Ivan were to find proof, what would he do?

Both options seem impossible to him. Duty to his kingdom, or the love of life.

A small huff. It draws Hyuna’s attention, who raises an eyebrow at him. 

She is one of the few people in his life whom he would entrust the world with. She had kept him safe since his childhood days and proven again and again that she is someone he can trust without the shadow of a doubt.

… and yet, he hesitates to speak. To share the dilemma he has found himself in.

Duty to his people, or devotion to a new found love. A purpose to life even.

In the end, he is only human too, isn’t he? Hopefully things would never come to that point.

Till is blissfully oblivious to the additional audience member he had garnered, his only focus on the music and the children surrounding him.

It’s weird. He doesn’t remember ever having a soft spot for kids, but in this world, he appreciates their company.

Maybe it’s the way they look at him with something other than suspicion, like so many others would.

He sighs, leaning his head against the headboard of his bed.

Maybe, it’s because he wants to see that not every child has to suffer. A hard swallow. Not like the one in that village.

He exhales softly, shaking his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about that right now… even though he still has a lot of work to do, he has made a lot of progress too, hasn’t he?

The village he visited today is proof of that, isn’t it? And the prince didn’t seem too unhappy with the way Acorn had handled the economy either.

(On that note… Till should get him something, as a thank you gift. He already feels bad that he’s taking credit for all the other has done, but Acorn had insisted… what would the other like? Now that he really thinks about it, Till doesn’t know all too much about the other, huh? Another thing to add to his to-do list for sure.)

He sighs, settling into bed, mind drifting back to the conversation with the prince.

He was kinda different than in the game, wasn’t he? Well, maybe it’s just cus he’s not the main character.

Somehow it feels odd to see the strange creature he had come to know in the game be so put together and actually responsible, but oh well! Not like he’s going to have interactions with him beyond the occasional check-up!

He’s going to have more interactions with him beyond the occasional check-up.

Till glares down at the letter in his hands, only vaguely noticing the amusement radiating from Acorn.

It’s not funny damnit! He was doing so well!? Why is the bitchass sending him letters now!? He doesn’t give a fuck if he’s supposed to be the duke! Till is NOT interested in royal meet ups or tea parties or whatever the fuck their equivalent of getting drunk on a Saturday night is!

None of it is what he wants!

“Can I not go.”

Acorn doesn’t even try to disguise his laughter at Till’s miserable face.

“I’m afraid it would come across as insubordination, my lord.”

Till pulls a face and Acorn might soon pull a muscle from laughing too hard.

“Can I kill myself. Like. Temporarily.”

Till groans, letting his head crash down on the table in front of him.

This is the worst… the absolute worst! It goes against literally all of his plans! Why did the prince even invite him to anything!? He seemed to actively hate Till last time they spoke so what the fuck!

Or maybe it’s the world noticing he isn’t doing enough (or any) villainy duties, but joke’s on it! Till’s specialty is fucking shit up!

“Fine then! I’ll go! But I won’t be happy about it!”

He huffs, getting up banging the letter down on the table, and turns to leave the room.

What he needs now, is a loooot of coffee. (They don’t actually have any though, he’ll settle for tea. For now. But it’s only moving his impending mental breakdown closer!!!!)

Ivan is over the moon! More time with the duke! (Till, is his name. But Ivan is scared he’ll find too much meaning in it to actually speak it yet…)

Sua watches him flop onto her bed after barging in unannounced, a bright grin on his face, waving a piece of paper in his hand, suspicion growing by the second. (Well, less suspicion and more… well, also suspicion but more the drugs kinda suspicion. He isn’t on them!!! Well… unless love counts as one? Is that too cheesy? Maybe it is, but he does feel like he’s on a happiness high!)

He hands it to her, gesturing for her to read it and proceeds to melt into the mattress, kicking his feet.

(On second thought, maybe he’s moving too fast – but who wouldn’t in his situation? Have they ever been saved from monotony by the most breathtakingly wonderful, cute, mesmerizing, extraordinary, adorable, beautiful, sincere, peaceful, amazing, charming scene ever!? (If Sua could hear his thoughts right now, she would hit him with a pillow. And probably tease him in front of all their friends.)

“This is a trade proposal.”

She raises an eyebrow at Ivan, looking at him like he grew a second head.

“You hate these things.”

Stare stare stare.

“Did you hit your head while you were out?”

“Suaaaaaa! Have more faith in me that that! Besides Hyuna was with me.”

Sua’s eyes return to the paper, then rise to meet his once more.

“You know you’ll have to discuss this with the duke, right?”

“I know.”, he sighs. It must have sounded too lovesick because immediately Sua throws a pillow at him, which lands right on his nose.

“You really did hit your head!”

“I did not!”

“Why did you say it like that then! About the duke! You know… the guy we were suspicious of!?”

He knows how it comes across, really, he does… but Sua hadn’t seen what he had!

Suddenly he sits up, with an alarmed look on his face. In his excitement he had forgotten about his whole dilemma… and that he was supposed to act normal about the duke in front of others!

“Sua. Sua, you won’t tell anyone, right!?”

She would… she would sell him out for a French fry and they both know it. And so, she smiles, and Ivan knows he sealed his fate once and for all. He will live in servitude for the next millennia.

(Maybe he should get rid of the witnesses (Sua and Hyuna…), but then he’d be friends with only Luka and that idea seems even worse. And Mizi of course, but she was rarely in the capital, so it wouldn’t be the same – wait! Idea!)

“If you don’t tell, I won’t tell about Mizi.”

Sua’s smile melts off her face, and Ivan knows he wins this one.

A hand is reached out to him.

“Mutual blackmail.”

“Mutual blackmail”, he agrees, and shakes the hand.

Chapter Text

Till paces in his room, a few minutes (well more like an hour) before he has to leave for the kingdom’s capital.

He could go over the several pages he’s leaving to the workers of the estate again, but Acorn had threatened to burn them after he had read and reread for what must have been the 50^th time.

He can’t help it, okay!? It’s the only thing he seems to be able to bring himself to do, anxiety coursing just under his skin, leaving him too jittery for any composing or reading or drawing or anything that requires him to sit still really.

But at the same time, it’s not like he can start any other big tasks, he only has a few minutes left (again, more like an hour), so it’s impossible!

He sighs, flopping into bed, lying still for only a moment, before tossing and turning, only settling down for a short moment before resuming in his agonizing.

Why was he invited man… he doesn’t remember the duke being invited to any such occasions in the game!

What he does remember… well, yeah, there was such a festivity, but wasn’t that to celebrate the mc – Mizi – returning from somewhere? Ah it’s been too long to remember clearly… it doesn’t matter anyway. Clearly something had changed in the storyline, considering Till’s invite. He can only hope it’s a change for the better.

As for now, he has more immediate things to worry about!

A short while after he had received the invite, Acorn had come to find him, a serious expression on his face.

Sitting Till down, he had finally filled Till on everything – the fear he saw in the other from day one, the worry radiating of the estate’s workers, the child attacking him, all had finally fallen into place.

Their lord had been so unlike who Till is now, content to accept bribery and give away favours for nothing but his own benefit, not a single thought wasted on those around him. (And if the people could offer him no favour…? Well, then they would be written off as useless, nothing but a waste of space and resources.)

It makes sense why Acorn would have waited so long to tell him, worry whether or not it is merely a trick, testing his loyalty.

Though Till believes, truly and completely, that there had been no such loyalty, only fear. He hopes that’s not the case anymore, and looking at their more recent interactions, all the trust Acorn could have, and maybe should have betrayed, yet the other never had… well, Till hopes Acorn knows his loyalty is a mutual thing.

First proper friend in this world and all that.

Maybe even first proper friend at all. Till would hardly show his college friends the same amount of faith and trust he had shown Acorn after all. And his childhood… a shake of the head. Nothing to dwell on. That chapter, Till hopes, is well and truly buried.

But more importantly, knowing all that, and other people knowing such as well… well, Till had spent the night reading up on different poisons and dangerous animals.

He could hardly defend himself, but it was best to recognize the signs at least, and maybe, even escape death, if only by a hair’s width.

He hadn’t bothered with learning about humans. He wouldn’t be able to do anything. Not if attacked with a weapon… and loathe he is to admit it, not without one either.

(Subconsciously a hand reaches up to trace up his jaw and to his forehead, circling a small area. Maybe he would be fine. Past harrowing experiences hardening him for life, and all. At least he would be able to think through pain better than most.)

A soft knock pulls him out of his thoughts, and sitting up, he finds Acorn, gesturing for him to get going.

The short walk to his carriage has the same vibe as walking to an execution. Till’s to be precise. Only to Till though, to be more precise.

Acorn for his part, looks like he’s one word away from bursting into laughter, after taking just one glance at Till’s miserable expression, earning him a sharp glare, that only serves to send him into a fit of giggles, poorly supressed with one hand.

WHATEVER! SO WHAT IF HE’S SUFFERING! LAUGH AT HIM MORE WHY DON’T YOU!

Only when he’s alone, does Till’s miserable expression melt, making way to a blank face, before pulling into an even more miserable expression.

Quietly he debates whether just not showing up to the capital is worth it. Sure, he might be put on a hitlist for that, but at least he won’t have to involve himself with the main characters of this world! Pleaaase… he’s just a lowly college student who wasn’t supposed to have a life beyond assignments and deadlines…

A deep sigh. Whatever. What’s the worst that can happen? (Ignoring the obvious answers like HIS ACTUAL DEATH, of course.)

Unlike Till, Ivan has had no such time to stress, as soon as the sun rose, Sua had dragged him out of bed to meet Mizi, Luka, and Hyuna, then quickly sent him off with the latter two to make preparations for the festivities, check in on everyone working on them, go through the invite list one last time, choose a good outfit and accessories to match with it, meet up with everyone around noon to have lunch, then quickly check through all the guest rooms to make sure they’re up to standard.

(The last one isn’t exactly a task assigned to him, but well… he couldn’t really come out and say that he wanted to check the duke’s room personally, could he? If he slipped a small box of handpicked accessories under the pillow, no one had to know.)

Now, finally able to catch a breather, Ivan scurries off to hide in the castle gardens, resting his eyes in a patch of sun as he leans against an old tree, wind gently ruffling through his hair, the feeling lulling him into a comfortable doze – not quite asleep yet, but his brain fuzzy enough to bring a similar rest.

It hadn’t meant much to him previously, just stolen moments of calm between the hectic life he leads, but now, even such tiny moments are precious, if only by association.

Gentle eyes, soft voice. If Ivan lets his thoughts drift far enough, he can almost pretend the wind is hands, carding through his hair with a quiet melody filling his ears and mind.

It’s not the real thing though. The fantasy is wonderful, truly, but waking from it leaves a bitter uncertainty, the sweetness of the dream not nearly true enough to overpower it.

But it’s fine. The duke will be here soon, and Ivan…

A pause. What exactly will he do?

Even if by some miracle he could make the other reciprocate his feelings… would that be fine? Would it not be an utterly shallow thing to do?

The life of a prince is hardly an easy one, and neither will it be for those associated with him – constantly under the scrutiny of the public, judging eyes watching for the slightest mistake.

It would be worse for any he took as lover. And the duke… he already has a reputation, doesn’t he?

What would the people say? Coercion, some would say. Would call the duke ugly names, for a story they place onto him, one in which Ivan is an unwilling participant, chained out to the other of a noble sense of duty, or out of fear. Particularly vile rumours will say that the king used his son as a mere bargaining chip to keep a tyrant in line. And poor Ivan, they will say, he will have had no choice, now living under an oppressive force that keeps him from speaking the truth.

Utterly ridiculous. If the people could see the gentle side of the duke… if only…

Yet even so, if they could, would they see it as genuine? Would they see the wonder Ivan felt? The true love he has found?

(A quiet, ugly voice whispers, “What if they feel about him the same way you do? What if they steal him from you?” Ivan dismisses it. He would not force his love on the duke, no matter how great it is. If someone else captures his heart… maybe it would even be for the better.)

A soft sigh escapes him as he stands, heading inside. Suddenly, he feels far more reserved, energy almost sucked out of his being.

The duke could be a dangerous addiction… and yet, and yet… Ivan finds no doubt in his mind – he would allow himself to drown in the other each and every time, if given the chance.

But is that chance truly possible in this life? With all the world watching? Can a chance be given when they are both burnt under the spotlight?  

Chapter Text

Till is fucked. He already knew that of course (he’s getting pulled into game plot, so duh), but what he forgot is – these people live entirely different lives than he does!

They’ve gotten used to glamour and things that cost more money than Till would like to think about.

And most importantly, they’ve gotten used to a certain type of etiquette that Till simply does not have.

He admits, he could have looked into it a bit more, but between trying to fix things in his duchy and the thought that he’d never be involved with the main characters, he simply neglected it. It just wasn’t ever something he thought he’d need.

That’s coming to bite him now though, arriving at the capital, being greeted by the palace servants, he finds himself woefully out of his depths.

The awful feeling of displacement only worsens when he is greeted by the royal family – the way Sua’s (actually, he should call her the princess, rather than using her name, shouldn’t he?) lip twitches in what could be amusement or disgust (he’s not sure which he’d prefer), and the way the prince’s eyes bore into his being, almost dissecting Till where he stands…

It’s entirely horrifying. Till wants nothing more than to run away. But the few reasonable braincells that remain, keep him still, greeting them to the best of his abilities, only moving once the king dismisses him.

He is lead to a huge guest room by one of the attendants, collapsing into bed as soon as the possibility arrives, determined to let it eat him.

(It doesn’t because the universe FUCKING HATES HIM.)

IVAN WANTS TO TALK TO HIM.

But the duke disappeared to his room and didn’t come out since, even skipping dinner with the excuse of travel having exhausted him. (Well to be fair, he did have pretty dark eyebags…)

So now he’s sitting here, clutching a pillow in his arms as he slowly goes insane.

He had tried his best to distract himself but found himself unable to with the questions swimming in his head.

Did the duke find his present? Did he like it? Did he know it was handpicked by Ivan? Would he direct that gentle smile at Ivan if he knew? Ivan needs to know so badly…

Till glares at the bejewelled necklace and matching earrings with an intensity so high, he’d be almost worried it could melt right through the priceless gems, if not for his anger.

Whose idea was this! Is this a test!? A trap even!? What the fuck!

Would they be poisoned? A single touch killing him? Or maybe they were there to taunt him? Show him a taste of a world he didn’t know? (Wait no, that made no sense, everyone only knew him as the duke…)

He pokes the necklace with a finger, cautiously, almost as if it would bite him at any given moment, but it remains still and Till remains alive.

So what gives!? Who gave this to him and why!?

Wait… did they (whoever they are) even intend to give it to him? Maybe they mistook this room for someone else’s?

Slowly he starts to nod to himself. That makes sense… maybe the prince or princess?

He inspects the accessories carefully. The style looks more like something you’d give a guy… maybe. He’s not sure how things are in this world. And he had never been a jewellery guy in his own world either, beyond a few, honestly pretty plain, piercings.

Well, whatever… he’ll deliver this to the prince and then avoid him like the plague… he’d rather not be involved in whatever weird romance is going on here, but whoever is freaky enough to try and sneak jewellery like this is a great match for the freak known as the prince. Till is cheering them on. Woo. Goooo romance.

Carefully, he rights the gift to look as unopened as possible and slips out of the room to go find the prince.

The soft clacks of shoes on marble floor are the only thing preparing Ivan before a piercing gaze meets his own, the duke’s eyes lighting up slightly in recognition before swiftly approaching and Ivan swoons.

Those eyes didn’t hold the softness Ivan knew from the village, nor did they hold the sneering pride Ivan had despised, no, rather than that, they held something somehow fragile, yet endlessly determined.

This is dangerous, Ivan realizes. He’ll grow addicted to discovering more and more expressions. What would the duke look like if he were truly happy? At peace? Angry? Sad? Crying?

(He stops the thought before it can drift too far. Calm.)

“Uhm… I think this is for you…?”

The duke holds out the box Ivan had hidden. Ivan blinks. Once, twice. A surprised chuckle escapes him, and he watches the duke’s face flush with embarrassment, deeply fascinated.

He watches the other shift on the spot for another moment, before taking mercy on him, shaking his head, flashing one of his earnest smiles, that even Sua has trouble staying angry at.

“Apologies for laughing, that wasn’t really my intention… but to answer you, they’re not for me – I picked them for you!”

Ivan takes great pleasure in watching the duke’s expression change from embarrassment to shock, to… is that confliction? Well, maybe that hurts a little, but it’s another expression to add to his already growing mental library dedicated solely to the duke.

Unbeknownst to Ivan, Till is facing a great dilemma.

The prince?? Gifted him jewellery?? Why? Didn’t he hate him? Is this to demonstrate how much more powerful he is than Till? What is he trying to do here?

And how is Till supposed to react? Is this a test? He feels like it is somehow. He’s gonna fail it miserably though – he doesn’t even know how to begin studying this shit.

The prince’s all-consuming gaze remains on him, steady, unblinking, and Till quickly averts his eyes, swallowing around a lump that has formed.

This is endlessly awkward. Belatedly he realises he is still holding the box out towards the other and quickly retracts his hands.

“Uhm… thanks.”

He bows awkwardly and quickly hurries off, not looking back.

…

HE’S SO CUTE. Sure, he ran away, and who knows when Ivan will get to talk to him like this again, but he was so adorable. Ivan can sustain himself on this memory for years to come! (Though he’d strongly prefer if he did not have to wait years until the next memory with the duke is made.)

But more importantly right now! Did the duke like the gift? He did thank Ivan, but was that genuine or out of obligation?

Ivan returns to his room, pacing around as he thinks.

He should buy more things for the duke – that’s how courting works, isn’t it? He’d make the best courting gifts, show that he is worth the duke’s love. Even if they would have to hide their love. Especially because they would have to hide it. He only wants good things to happen to the duke after all, and dating Ivan, outside of the dating itself, could potentially be one of the worst things to happen to the duke's reputation and safety.

Or it could be the best thing.

It could alleviate all the hatred people held for him, it could make him appear positively towards the public, it could do so much.

But that’s unrealistic. Ivan knows better than to hope for that.

So even if he may be desperate to share his love with the duke, they wouldn’t share it with the world.

Though Ivan isn’t even disappointed about it. It would be hard, of course it would be, but at the same time, isn’t there something so intimate about a relationship only shared between two people, one no one else knows about?

A side of life that only belongs to Ivan… well, wouldn’t that be nice?

Chapter Text

What do you do when you wake up and no longer find yourself at home? A question most don’t ever need to face, but in his case, it became a reality.

He loathes it with his entire being, but alas, he knows better than to dwell on it.

A cruel lord as he may have been, he did not keep his position without being smart about it – yet fate deemed it just to take it all away in the snap of a finger? How utterly laughable. One such as himself, reduced to nothing more than a powerless, nameless pawn? Truly, there is no worse fate, not to him.

His face remains the same, and people seem to recognize him, yet why do they treat him so differently? Why do they treat him as though he is on the same level as them? How ridiculous! A human should never be regarded as the same as a mere ant.

(But is he not the same now? Powerless and poor as he is?)

Papers lie scattered on the floor, some ripped in half, others handled with care, yet none of them spared of the blood that soaks the floor.

It isn’t his blood, of course it isn’t. He would never make the kind of mistake that would result in his own blood shed, even if forced to bloody his own hands.

It hadn’t been planned, but once he had begun, it had only troubled him to stop – and after all, once he began, the sacred rule forced his hand. No witnesses.

Not uncharacteristically, it had been anger to force his action, the kind bubbling up as he gazed upon his own face, and realized this person was the reason for all his troubles.

Much too kind, much too soft and so utterly devoted to the safety and happiness of ants that lay below him. Such a waste of resources and wits, such harm to himself for the gain of others.

An utterly disgusting sight. A thief wearing his face, giving away the things he had so rightfully earned, things that would only lose value in the hands of those so utterly underserving.

The verdict was clear – unforgiven. Guiltier than guilty. And whether it be this life or next, he would make that thief pay for his crimes.

And with the prince so utterly infatuated… isn’t this a little too easy?

Chapter Text

Till sinks into bed, placing the gift (from the fucking prince) in the furthest corner from himself, glaring at it for a solid minute.

Is this a fucking joke!? Is this world playing a prank on him!? Wasn’t the prince supposed to fall in love with the main character and shower her with gifts!? And well, newsflash! He looks nothing like Mizi! So even as a practice round for giving gifts – why would the prince use him as practice!?

Is he overthinking this? But if he under thinks this then he’s just going to think the prince is in love with him which is absolutely impossible! Prince x Villain is not the trope of the game, thank you very much! So, there’s gotta be something he’s missing.

A loud creak of wooden tiles draws him out of his thoughts, and Till quickly sits up looking around.

It’s normal for wood to creak right? This place is old enough for stuff like that, right? Ughhhh he probably freaked himself out reading so much about assassinations. Who would even try to assassinate him at this point, most assassination attempts in the game were cus of the duke – who’s he kidding, most people hate his guts!

Damn it damn it, now he’s just freaking himself out! Most assassins probably wouldn’t even make a sound! Yes, yes… it’s probably just a random attendant.

Till makes a frustrated sound, getting up. If he checks, and sees it’s nothing to worry about, then… wait would an attendant seeing him come out of the room because of some stupid anxieties be embarrassing? Would it be against proper etiquette? Man, he’s not made for this shit!

Guess he’ll suffer…

The next morning’s breakfast is extravagant. While Ivan is used to big meals by now, today’s is more so – and even if Sua gives him a meaningful look, no this isn’t his doing! He’s not sure who’s doing this is, but he’ll thank them on his hands and knees.

He’d also thank his father on his hands and knees, if it weren’t weird, for seating the duke right next to him. Ivan thinks it’s because he has dealt with the other the most, being sent to check ups and all. Still, he’s eternally grateful.

And best of all! The duke wore the jewellery he chose! The gems sparkling in the light, almost underlining the doe-like hesitance and innocence on the duke’s face. (Ivan does wonder… would the duke make such a face if they ever- nope. Breakfast. Concentrate.)

The man in question looked positively overwhelmed. Till has never had this much for breakfast, okay!? Usually, he just eats whatever leftovers are in the fridge or throws together a random meal! (More often than not he even ends up foregoing breakfast entirely – it’s fine, he’s gotten used to working on an empty stomach by now.)

But now he’s given choices from expensive cheese and bread to warm meals that he would consider lunch or dinner at most. Though not even then, probably – way, waaaay too expensive! He feels bad just sitting at the table! Rich people are terrifying… (Even if he is technically a rich person too now.)

The prince keeps glancing over at him too, almost expectantly… is he taking too long to choose? Is he being rude?

Arghhhh…

Quickly he shakes off his hesitance, grabbing fork and knife, glaring down at his plate for only one second before he begins to eat.

The first bite – it’s awful. It takes everything in him not to gag at how bitter it is. The thing is, Till likes bitter foods. But this one… it just sort of tastes foul. Like medicine, maybe.

Wait…

He stills, forcing himself not to swallow, even around the disgusting taste that he just wants to get out of his mouth. With a strained smile, he grabs a tissue, hopefully discreetly spitting the food out into it, flushing away the taste with a few large gulps of water.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he sees the prince frown. This is it. This is how he dies. It’s probably the prince’s favourite food, and he just committed peak insult to his highness and is gonna be executed as a result. Goodbye world. It has been a good (terrible) run.

“You don’t like the food?”

STOP WHY ARE YOU ACTUALLY ASKING!? Till is so going to die, oh it’s sooo over.

He puts on a polite smile, hoping to deescalate the situation and not get executed, maybe just exiled – he can live with exile, he swears, just don’t kill him pleaseeee-!

“Haha… it’s just a bit bitter, that’s all.”

The prince frowns harder and Till’s heart beats louder.

But then the prince leans over, stealing some of his food, and Till is convinced he just died on the spot.

DON’T PLAY WITH HIS EMOTIONS LIKE THAT DICKHEAD!!!!

Ivan nibbles on the food for a moment, foul taste invading his mouth, and if possible, his frown deepens even more.

“This isn’t what it’s supposed to taste like.”

The duke just smiles helplessly. (cute)

“Is that right?”

Ivan tilts his head, thinking for a moment, before swapping their plates. He can get away with not eating without repercussions, the duke cannot. And he would like to have the food tested later on…

The duke looks so frazzled by the action that Ivan has to suppress a laugh from escaping him, but he can’t suppress the twitch of his lips into a happy smile as he gestures to the duke to continue eating.

… Till is going to dIE IF he doesn’t stop reading into these things. He’s going to die! He’s dying!

BUT HOW DOES HE STOP!?

Ivan isn’t supposed to be in love with him, or even like him, but but but – Till can’t help but think he might just be?

Maybe he’s just so bitchless he started hallucinating the prince having some sorta feelings for him in an effort to cope – Wait. HE’S GAY? IS HE GAY? HE DIDN’T WANNA HAVE THIS REVELATION OVER BREAKFAST WHILE STUCK IN SOME OTOME GAME?

He is fighting DEMONS not to ram his head into the table right fucking now.

Oh and the duke is still staring at him too. Fuck is he being a weirdo again. Is he breaking some sort of social rules? This is not- he isn’t- he needs to be normal. Jesus Christ.

(Does Jesus Christ exist in this world? He needs to research this… what if he ends up saying Jesus Christ out loud and it turns out that’s some generational curse in this world and he gets executed by the prince for it. Wait why would he be executed by the prince? This is too much for his brain to handle. He has GOT to get a date before he goes properly insane from being this bitchless. Seriously, who’s bitchless to the point of hallucinating the fucking PRINCE of a country is in love with them.

And besides, isn’t Ivan straight? He was one of the love interests in game after all, and Mizi is very much a woman.)

He has got to be normal.

Chapter Text

Till disappears into his room after breakfast, and though Ivan would’ve liked him to stay and chat some more, it isn’t that much of an inconvenience for once.

He takes the unfinished dish, heading off to get it checked for hints of poison, all the while, not allowing it to leave his sight. He doesn’t really care how it looks, excusing it simply with a ‘The duke is a guest of mine, so it’s my responsibility to make sure he is safe while residing here’, but he’s unsure if anyone is buying it.

Oh well… let them talk, they probably won’t figure out the truth behind his actions anyway.

Till is… kinda really bored. In using his room to escape the other characters, he essentially locked himself out of any activity that can’t be done in the four walls of a single room – no matter how big that room is.

So all that remains is having a meltdown about WHATEVER the Hell that was at breakfast and – nope, nope he can’t do it.

Does this count as an indirect kiss, wait no they didn’t share silverware so maybe it’s fine.

STILL THE FACT THAT THEY SHARED FOOD? He isn’t gay, but that did something to his heart!

…

WHO IS HE KIDDING HE COULD TOTALLY BE GAY. Maybe that’s why, he as a man, played a dating sim from the girls’ POV. IS THIS HOW HE FINDS OUT ABOUT HIS OWN SEXUALITY? STUCK IN AN OTOME GAME? AS THE VILLAIN?

Wait shouldn’t he worry more about what happened to his food at breakfast?

Considering the prince had no reason to lie about the food usually not tasting that bitter and even swapping plates with him, that food was probably poisoned, right?

… That is the stupidest assassination plan he’s ever heard of. Who makes it super obvious something is poisoned? Maybe wherever the person bought the poison from scammed them?

Or maybe… they thought no one would care to help Till?

But why would they still count on him continuing to eat something like that? Cus of the royal family? Maybe… but would anyone really risk their lives just to not offend some rich people?

If those rich people can be so easily offended maybe they shouldn’t be the royal family.

But the prince wasn’t like that, so they probably are fine to keep as royal family.

…

HEAD IN HANDS HEAD IN HANDS, SOS, THE PRINCE IS INVADING HIS BRAIN. It’s only because he saved his life of course, there’s nothing more to it at all, really, it’s stupid to think otherwise, why would Till like someone who he barely talked to so far, and whom he only knows as kind of a freak from the games, he even thought that the prince was annoying in game, so really there is no fucking way, nope, no way at all.

A pause. Till groans, slapping his hands against his cheeks. He has got to be normal.

And for that, he needs to distract himself!! ASAP!

Turns out the dish was indeed poisoned. Also turns out, Ivan has no leads as to who could have done it.

All plates were handled by multiple people, and it’s so hard to keep track of who handled which exactly.

Not to mention, it could have also been a totally uninvolved person, slipping the poison in as no one was looking.

Nonetheless he instructs someone to investigate and hopes for the best.

Now in a significantly worse mood, he decides to cheer himself up by talking business. With the duke of course. (Business would not cheer him up under normal circumstances, but if it’s the duke, he can make anything nice and interesting. Especially since it lets Ivan stare at him without any repercussions!)

He swiftly heads over, giving the door to the duke’s room a light knock as soon as he arrives, and quickly tugs some hair into place.

Does he look put together enough? He’s been told his face is handsome, is he handsome enough? Does he look charming?

Ivan never thought he’d worry about these things, but there is a first for everything he supposes. If he has his way, he’d like to experience many firsts thanks to and with the duke.

Till prides himself in the fact that he did not fall from the bed when the prince knocked, instead only suffering a mild heart attack.

Hesitantly opening the door, he is met with a bright smile, one that does not make his heart do anything. Nope. Nothing at all.

“I’d like to talk about something regarding your duchy.”

Why does he feel almost disappointed now…

Ivan is absolutely ecstatic. It’s not like the duke could’ve really declined, since it is business, but somehow there was the small fear that he would do so anyway.

But he didn’t! And now Ivan is sitting in his room! Wow!

It’s nothing special, just a guest room, but even so, Ivan sees a few signs of it being the duke’s that he carefully tucks away into the deepest parts of his memory.

He only brought a small suitcase, which Ivan thinks is… odd. How did he bring enough clothes? Or maybe he was planning on buying some new ones while in the capital? Maybe Ivan could tag along for that!

“So… uh…?”

Oh right, he had an excuse to be here. It isn’t a bad one either, would probably place more importance on the duchy, and increase trade and give Ivan more excuses to visit! Yes. A great, magnificent plan.

Quickly Ivan holds out the papers in which the whole proposal is detailed out, Ivan’s signature already resting at the bottom. All the duke has to do to seal the deal is sign as well!

Ivan watches carefully, with anticipation, as the duke leans over carefully scanning the document.

It’s somehow hopelessly endearing to Ivan, the small furrow of brows in concentration, the small bite on the lip, the sharpness of his eyes – another great expression to add to his growing mental library.

IT’S SO HARD TO CONCENTRATE. How is he supposed to – STOP STARING AT HIM DAMN IT!? How interesting can it be to watch someone read!? And worse than that, read slowly!? About something he has no idea about!? Why couldn’t Acorn have come instead of him… he’s the one who’s been handling business and shit!?

Till glances up at the prince. The expression he finds, causes him to stop, blinking a few times.

It’s so hopelessly soft, almost as if he’s fond of Till. It’s bad. Really bad. Awful even. He can feel his skin start to heat up at the affectionate attention. Would it be weird to hide his face. Or to scream into a pillow. Or to do SOMETHING. He cannot handle this. His single ass can’t comprehend such affection like a normal person.

“God help me…”

He slaps a hand on his mouth, cringing at the loud noise it causes.

He is rewarded with a soft laugh, that has him stopping short.

…

So maybe he is at least a little gay.

Chapter Text

The duke is staring at him, with wide eyes, face flushed ever so slightly. It’s cute, it’s so cute. And he’s staring at him! Ivan! He would do anything to keep that gaze directed at him.

He doesn’t even mind how awkward the silence becomes, much too enthralled with the other until he clears his throat, eyes moving away to stare down at the business proposal.

“Uhm… I need more time to decide?”

Till very much needs to talk to Acorn about this… damn the fact that cell phones don’t exist here, what the hell is he supposed to do!? Send smoke signals!? He is capital D Doomed! What if he just kills himself. Suicide as a form of escapism. He’s going to cry…

“Right, of course, take as much time as you require, my duke.”

DON’T CALL HIM THAT? HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO TAKE THAT?

Till is this close to grabbing the prince by his shoulders and shaking him, because what the fuck! My duke!? What do you mean!? Is this normal royal slang or is this supposed to mean something!? You can’t do this to him!?

The duke is so red… Ivan watches the blush travel down his neck, disappearing under the collar. How far might it spread…? Maybe something to find out another time?  

Ivan clears his throat quietly, smiling happily. That seems to snap the duke out of his… befuddlement.

“J-just calling me Till is fine hahahaha…!”

PLEASE JUST CALL HIM BY HIS NAME, HE MIGHT JUST IMPLODE IF THE PRINCE CALLS HIM MY DUKE AGAIN.

A blink. The smile lights up more, if at all still possible. Till!!! He gets to call him Till!!!

“Then you should call me Ivan as well!”

Is that too forward? He really wants to hear Till call him by his name – actually he would like it if Till called him anything at all… It now occurs to him that the other has never, not once, properly addressed him by any title or name. Always implying he’s addressing him or addressing a group including Ivan.

The realization saddens him a little, smile dimming ever so slightly.

“I-ivan? Are you sure, your highness? It’s not like… well if youreallywantmetoIcan…!”

Ivan perks up again, eyes sparkling with joy. He leans forward hands gripping the other’s shoulders, drawing out a surprised (cute) squeak.

“Again!”

He’s getting ahead of himself, he knows, he knows, and he knows it’s a terrible idea to indulge, it’s terrible, horrible and he wants more.

He wants to hear Till calling out his name again and again, say it between the two of them, whisper it to him like a secret, hear all the different ways it can be said and experience all the emotion that can be born out of it.

“Uh… Again? Your- your highness – I mean, Ivan – I don’t know if this is…”

Till makes a half frustrated, half flustered sound.

THE PRINCE IS GOING TO KILL HIM AT THIS RATE. He looks cute, all excited – NOPE. NOPE. NOT THINKING ABOUT THAT. He is supposed to stay! Away! Avoid! The Main Characters! Not do… whatever this is!

It’s bad for his heart – and his sanity and really? It’s bad for his survival chances too! He wasn’t supposed to do this! He was supposed to… ARGH HE CAN’T THINK WITH THE PRINCE’S FACE THIS CLOSE. Can he hear Till’s heart hammering like crazy!? And there’s no doubt his face is flaming red, right!? How embarrassing is that!

Ivan chuckles softly, drinking in the reaction, though… Till’s words do remind him. It’s a terrible idea for them to be so friendly with each other, to be so close. If anyone found out… clearly Till realizes it too.

Ivan wonders if stolen moments like these will be enough. He managed to live such a long time without them, so surely they would be, right?

But Ivan also knows, as shallow as his feelings may truly be, they would surely have no issue carving their way to the core, if given enough time to grow. And he knows people say distance makes the heart grow fonder.

So basically, no matter what he does, he’ll want to spend more time with Till and discover more sides of him.

But there is a right choice. A choice that won’t make them both watch their backs worried about prying eyes.

There is a right choice, and it’s not the choice Ivan wants to make, despite how selfish it is. He wants to be selfish so badly, just this once, to take a shot at getting what he wants – to take a shot at what he believes to be true happiness. Would it really be so bad?

He sits back, watching the duke blink at him owlishly. It’s hopelessly endearing and leaves Ivan aching to do more, to indulge more.

Instead, he responds to Till’s question, wearing a soft smile.

“So long as we’re alone, it’s fine! We’re around the same age after all, so isn’t it a little odd to call each other by formal titles?”

It’s not, it’s the norm of course, but what better excuse could Ivan give? Even against the hopes that what he feels is requited, it would be best not to speak the truth.

Till is happy to accept the excuse. Why wouldn’t he? For all he knows, it’s the truth after all! And it’s way better for his mental wellbeing to be called by his name. Seriously. If Ivan ever calls him ‘my duke’ again, Till will consider suicide as a form of cutely running away from his problems.

“Alright… Ivan it is then.”

They talk for a little longer, no longer about the business proposal, conversation moving on to more light-hearted topics.

Ivan finds it is much too easy, talking to Till. If he pretends, he can almost believe that they are nothing more that two people enjoying each other’s company.

And maybe, in these four walls, impersonal as they may be, they are. But once they step through the door, they will become the prince and the duke again.

Ivan had never thought such a small thing could cause dread, yet here he is, dreading the weight of his title.

He wonders if Till dreads his too. Maybe even more than Ivan does.

After all, he’s so different now, than he has been in the past. Ivan wonders if he simply got tired of pretending to be a strong – albeit prideful duke. Wonders if the recent exhaustion and hesitancy in official settings is the true self.

It would make sense then, why the duke hid it for so long. Weakness is easily exploited in the end.

In many ways, the rumours of an unjust, cruel duke helped keep such threats at bay.

But those same rumours are what makes the title of duke almost heavier than Ivan’s as prince. A double-edged knife. It would seem like a lonely experience if not for what Ivan had observed in the village.

Those he shows his kindness to love him, and those that don’t know fear him. It’s smart. Incredibly smart. But it also begs the question – what changed for the duke to break the mask of pride and strength even in official settings? Ivan really can’t figure it out.

(A tiny, tiny part of him hopes it’s just something Till shows to him, but that hope is quickly squashed down by a voice that sounds suspiciously like Sua. Even in his mind, she can’t give him a rest, can she?)

Chapter Text

Lunch comes much too soon – Ivan would have preferred spending more time with Till instead, but alas…

At least they’re still sitting next to each other. And Till actually talks to him at lunch! Double win! He seems far more comfortable now that they’ve had a private talk. He knew it was a good idea to propose the business contract!

(And it is a good deal too.)

Ivan gets so into taking to Till that he almost forgets to act normal – almost! But then Till calls him your highness and he’s slapped back to reality.

Till runs off after lunch once again. Ivan wants to follow, but unfortunately Sua takes the moment to whisk him off by the arm. He’s not happy.

Ivan is ushered into Sua’s room, where the door slams shut behind them, and Ivan is met with 4 soul piercing stares.

“Hhhhey, guys. What’s up?”

Mizi is the nicest to look at, more curious than holding any judgment, so he directs his own gaze at her, smiling nervously.

“You know what’s up.”

Sua speaks, but Ivan refuses to look at her. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

OW. Okay, that’s definitely not how it works, Sua’s pinch still hurts a lot. His poor ear didn’t deserve this…

“What’s up with you and the duke?” Luka interjects before the siblings escalate the situation.

“Yeah, I thought we hated that guy!” Hyuna really doesn’t shy on her words…

Now Ivan does look at Sua, stare into her soul even, hoping that she can come up with an answer to cover for him, if only for a little longer. He wants to keep this to himself for just a little longer…

But Sua holds no answers, just returns the stare with an even one of her own.

“Uhm… I…”

He really doesn’t want to share, but is there a choice? After all, would it not be impossible to hide such a thing when he knows the line he is toeing. They’re his friends, of course they would notice.

“Trying… something.”

A moment passes in full silence. Sua gives him an unbelieving stare. But she knows already, she knew, so a tiny sliver of hope remains that the others don’t continue pushing it, allowing his love to grow just a little longer, without the scrutiny of many eyes.

He trusts them, he trusts them with his life. But not with Till’s.

It’s no fault of their own – the strange happenings in the duchy and Till’s previous behaviour had led them to a logical conclusion. One that would not be favourable on Ivan’s feelings.

“Oh? Oh! Like getting him to open up and share his secrets! That way we can definitely figure out what’s going on with his duchy!”
Bless Mizi for thinking so favourably of him.

It’s easy to smile and nod, even if it’s a lie – and he knows he should simply be truthful and share with them what he had seen.

But he is nothing, if not depraved.

Behind pieces copied from other people, from his observations of the world, lies a newly awakened desire, impure and deceitful. Selfish at its very core. At Ivan’s core.

He’s not a good person, he never will be. No matter what his friends think, what his kingdom thinks – he knows better.

At his very core, Ivan is nothing more than selfish desire – emotion so selfish and shallow, they lack any sense of purity. Any of the purity love is meant to hold.

He had noticed before, in between the endless grey of life, but now it’s clearer now that he experienced colour and overwhelming fondness, but Ivan… he’s broken, isn’t he?

At least that’s how he sees it now. In the way his love differs from the mutual, the soft love found in secret glances between Mizi and Sua or the pure and bright love displayed by his parents. Even in the way it differs from the complicated, the messy love between Hyuna and Luka. Ivan’s love isn’t like that at all.

His love screams to consume, to make Till the centre of his world, one he would betray his people for. It yearns to be recognized, to be acknowledged and accepted, yet shrieks at the thought of being shared. It lurks in the dark, just under Ivan’s skin, flaring up into a dangerous flame when given just a tiny spark from Till.

It’s dangerous. Far more so from someone in his position.

If he were the good person – if he were a person at all, would he not give up on such an impossible love? On such an unhuman and dangerous thing?

So really, Ivan can see it now, he isn’t human at all. Merely a good imitation of one, cobbled together with the pieces stolen off of those around him.

A quick glance at each of his friends.

One day, soon, they will realize the extent of his lies, will realize that Ivan’s whole life he has been lying to them, pretending to be as human as them, when he isn’t even a fraction of it.

But he’s a selfish creature, and as such will take these moments, greedily, and cherish them fully.

Till finds himself entirely restless. HOW IS HE SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL RIGHT NOW? He’s having a crisis! His sexual identity is in jeopardy! What do you mean he isn’t the factory setting average male!?

Did he misjudge his role or something!? Or was the villain supposed to be some love rival at some point maybe!?

Stop being cringe. A voice whispers in his mind. He hates who it sounds like, a memory of a past he just can’t seem to escape, but it does the trick, knocking him out of his thoughts.

But it does sour his mood as well, and thus he stalks off, pen and paper in hand to vent his frustrations.

Music had always been his escape, in long nights spent crying alone, in quiet days watching others laughing together from afar.

He had never been upset by it – at least that’s what he tells himself. Most people liked him well enough, teased him at most, but to his younger self, each tease was an attack on his very being. His sensitive self could not find the part where he was supposed to laugh – couldn’t understand how others could laugh.

And then came the hurt and anger, what finally made them understand that it’s not funny.

(It also made him horribly alone, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind when his birthday was spent alone with the caretakers of the orphanage he lived in, and he didn’t mind when no one wanted to play with him anymore. It didn’t hurt. And yet, he remembers nights of crying himself to sleep, of wishing on stars to give him a friend. He never did get his friend, but he did stop wishing.)

Music became his friend. Till needed no more.

(But thinking now – of Acorn, and somehow Ivan – didn’t he get more?)

Chapter Text

Scribbling thoughts onto paper, loose connections between them. Till’s process for writing music had never been linear – always driven by emotion over reason, logic. Whatever. He knows how to do it properly, knows that it might yield better results, but he rarely cared, throwing together words that described his emotions, in a wild pile that only he seems to be able to decipher.

Lines of melody string up the words, orderly and neat – and suddenly the rest of the world can understand too. Till used to share his feelings with them, used to allow people to listen. He doesn’t anymore, not really anyway.

He doesn’t mind when people do listen, happy enough to share the space he carved out for himself.

What he doesn’t appreciate however, is when people watch him like a STALKER. He knows these people are royals or nobles or something, but could you be any more suspicious!?

A line of nobles peaking around the corner, watching him like hawks. Seriously!? Seriously!? Is it his reputation? Is that it!? But even Ivan is doing that shit and they had a literal moment together!? Get it together bro!?

And what is Till supposed to do now!? Should he call them out? Should he ignore them?

…

……

………. OKAY ENOUGH.

Pen and papers are slammed into the ground, a grumpy glare directed at his oh so secretive audience.

“WHAT THE F — WHAT ARE YOU DOING!? Uhm… your highnesses and friends.”

What was Luka’s title again? Whatever, who cares.

“Seriously. What. Did you need something? You could just ask?”

The group blinks. Did they really think he didn’t notice them?

A bright laugh cuts through the tense air – Hyuna’s good mood, is infectious and soon Mizi joins her in laughter, as well as pulling out a soft chuckle from Till.

Though Luka, Sua and Ivan remain silent, it’s clearly visible that they’re not offended by the display, eyes straying towards the others with fond smiles.

(If Till really thought into it he may just think that each looks positively smitten, but he refuses to think into it any further. One crisis per day is enough.)

“So… why were you piled up around a corner stalking me?”
Maybe he’s too relaxed in his speech. It was fine with Ivan (well sort of), because Ivan even allowed – insisted even – on having Till use his name. The others however… was he being horribly offensive?

He groans internally. Why did he have to be the one stuck in an otome game, he’ll probably get himself executed on accident.

Should he write a will? He kinda does have a lot he could leave to others now, huh? A sidenote to address later.

(Though really, it’s all going to Acorn, the only real one in this world. He even does the taxes.)

Mizi coughs out one more laugh, before shaking her head.

“We were wondering if you’d like to have some tea with us? We usually have them as a group – Ivan thought you’d might like to join!”

Till would not like to join. He squints at Ivan, who beams back at him. Would it be a royal fuck up if he declined?

He glances at the papers in front of him, then back at the group, trying to imply that he’s busy, but they ultimately just look at him with expectation.

Well now… would they please spare him? He needs to stay away from them for his own safety! But declining would mean actively putting himself in danger, wouldn’t it…

“Oh… uhm. Now?”

Mizi nods.

“Fine… let me just put this away then.”

Sua glances at the papers, a blank look on her face. Curiosity? Suspicion? Till can’t tell.

“It’s fine! You can bring it along!”

Ivan grabs him by the shoulders before he can even begin to protest, moving him towards Mizi who excitedly grabs him by the arm, showing him the way, with the others following.

Ivan remains behind for just a few moments longer, eyes scanning the surrounding area.

It’s silent, not uncharacteristically so. Still, there is a chill that lingers, and as his gaze moves, they land on a second pair, staring back.

Sharp and dangerous – the look of someone who can do unspeakable things.

Ivan finds, for the first time in his life, he is scared to die. Masked behind layers and layers of indifference, he feels the slight tingle of fear dancing in his chest.

It had never mattered to him before, the possibility that he may die. Not after becoming a prince. He was cared for, he had it easy. If he died, then that would simply mean it was his time – life lived well and fully.

But he’s scared now. Because no longer has his life been lived to its end.

In his selfish greed, Ivan wishes for more, to take all his shallow emotions and give them to Till – the one source of true life he has found, a god who took the empty hull of Ivan and breathed a purpose, a life into it. A life Ivan had merely been mimicking until that point.

So, Ivan is afraid to die, afraid to leave Till’s side, afraid that he may lose the very life that he had only been given such a short time ago.

Till had always liked Mizi – despite being the main character, the player character, in an otome game, she had never been a self-insert, thoughts and feelings displayed even if they may not align with the player’s, a real personality to enjoy reading through.

But interacting with her himself… it’s hard. Having seen so much of her within the game itself, it is now painfully obvious to Till that she is holding something back – perhaps a caution coming from his status as the villain of her story, an intrinsic fear that comes naturally from such writing.

Still, he can appreciate her attempt to be friendly, to treat him no different than the others.

Similarly, with Hyuna – though her dislike for him is a little clearer, even if Till didn’t play through her view. It’s understandable after all – he can imagine the few interactions they’ve had… well not they, but rather the villain, before Till took his place and Hyuna… well, he can imagine they were strictly business and through rumours. Considering Hyuna is in charge of protecting the prince, it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think that she would be on guard around him. Cautious. Worried. Still, her efforts aren’t wasted. She clearly is a good mood maker, enthusiasm infectious to a fault.

Till remembers Luka’s route, if only vaguely. The man in game had been full of charm and flirtatious interactions, the type that could leave a person giggling like a schoolgirl in love.

Now, Till finds he still holds charm and sweetness, though the flirting has been dialled back considerably – perhaps it’s something he avoids in the presence of friends?

Sua is perhaps the most mysterious character to Till, quite secretive in game, her expression giving few things away.

Still, Till finds he gets along with her the easiest. Though her words may be harsh at times, hardly any sugar coating and all bite, he can see the care in her actions that shines through – not for Till, of course, but for her friends. For her brother.

Sua regards him with suspicion, just as the others do, but hers stems from a place of care for her family, whereas the others’ stems from rumours about a man, that isn’t Till.

It makes the suspicion a more comfortable one, one in which Till can show who he is – not the duke.

Chapter Text

Ivan joins the group after a few more (awkward) moments. Not that he makes the awkwardness any better, but at least it shifts away from Till.

Focus now on Ivan, he is allowed to withdraw into himself, observing as more of an outsider.

It’s a role he finds himself more comfortable with, having more experience with it.

Ivan explains nothing about his delay, even at the prodding of his friends, instead just smiling cheerily before gluing himself to Till’s side. For whatever reason. This isn’t normal, is it? Maybe it is for this world? Maybe Ivan is just really touchy?

Till blinks, once, then twice. What exactly is he supposed to do here?

He turns to Ivan for some sort of cue, but Ivan just grins, leaning against Till’s shoulder.

Till can feel his face heat up, so he quickly turns it away from Ivan, looking up to find the group staring at him again. Some (one) with curiosity (Mizi), while others (the rest) seem… suspicious at best.

He decides that this is how he will die.

(He just doesn’t know how yet. Maybe by the embarrassment he feels from all the attention, or maybe from his heart beating out of his chest, feeling such a vibrant warmth seep into his skin – the source the man of his crisis. Which he has decided NOT to deal with right now. Even if he feels like he’s vibrating out of his own being, or if he feels a hair away from hyperventilating at a mere touch. A mere touch through layers of clothes.)

The group has a clear dynamic, one Till feels woefully left out of, even with best attempts to include him.

It’s clear how well everyone knows each other, from the way Hyuna teases or the way Luka interjects with dry remarks that may even be seen cruel yet are simply laughed away.

And Till knows none of them. Not Ivan, not Sua, not Mizi, not Hyuna and not Luka. Even though he knows them as character, he doesn’t know their history that well. Doesn’t know the things left unsaid in the game. And he doesn’t know how he fits in. He’s not meant to, originally. Isn’t meant to accept tea from Mizi, isn’t meant to listen to Hyuna’s stories, and most definitely isn’t meant to be leaning into Ivan’s touch. He’s not meant to be here.

(But he can’t help but want to be. Can’t help but shuffle ever so slightly closer to Ivan, can’t help but indulge in the tea that costs more that he could have ever imagined before, can’t help the genuine laughter that escapes him, blending with the voices surrounding him.

As awkward and inexperienced as he is… He wants, he wants – just for a little longer, just a tiny bit.)

Till lies awake that night, mind replaying over and over, small precious moments of the day. He treasures them. Far too much to be good. If this keeps up… he should avoid them.

A glance at the desk within his room, at the papers lying on top of it. The main reason he’s here at all, he suspects, the business deal.

It pains him – the thought of leaving so soon, but it’s better to do it before he gets any more attached… and though Acorn has more experience with this stuff, if Till reads up on it more tonight, maybe he’ll be able to determine if it’s a good deal to take or not?

The thought sounds… honestly exhausting. He can’t imagine all the things he might be missing just because he isn’t from this world. But it’s not like he can just go ask. To everyone else, he has always been here.

Sure, his personality changed all of a sudden, but to them, the duke has always been the duke and Till still is the duke and will remain so, unless something drastic happens.

Till slaps his cheeks, the loud sound echoing through the room for a second, the sting grounding him for long enough to make him force himself out of bed and over to the desk, grabbing the relevant papers and waddle off to find a library. Surely a palace as big as this one would have one somewhere…

Good news, he finds one. Even better news, he finds books on what he needs to know rather quickly – both kingdom history and economy.

It’s honestly too much for his brain to take in properly, the words unfamiliar and considering how late it is already… will he really be able to do this?

But he has to. And so, he sits, reads, and forces himself to take it all in, no matter how much time it takes.

Ivan doesn’t sleep much. That isn’t to say he’s unhealthy in his sleep habits! Just… unconventional. Less sleeping at night, more in the noon – it works out well enough, and people have yet to complain. Not that Ivan allows them any room to.

He’s there for important events, makes sure to finish his tasks swiftly and precisely. There is not the slightest room for them to complain.

The nights allow him to do it more effectively as well. No one demands his attention, and no one disturbs him. A peace all to himself.

Like so often, he finds himself at the library, rows of books that he has become familiar with.

Many of them actually aren’t to his liking, despite what his image may portray. But there are those gems that mange to steal his attention away time and time again, books that he can get lost in.

Emotions described in them added to his mask, little by little. They do as much raising him as his days on the streets or the attendants in the castle have done – maybe even more so.

He can’t lie to books, is the thing. Their lessons sink into his mind subconsciously, aren’t drilled into him, aren’t forced into his being. It’s a gentler type of teaching, the soft kind he can indulge in over and over again, until even the smallest lesson has become etched deeply into his mask, even mixing into the inhuman void below, tinting it with just the smallest pieces of humanity before being swallowed by endless black.

Usually he reads alone, fiercely protects the bubble he found in the night, but today, finding Till sleeping surrounded by books and papers, he finds himself willing to share.

Careful not to wake the other, Ivan sits next to him, shuffling Till around to allow him to sleep more comfortably, a spark of… something causing his heart to flutter when the expression on Till’s face softens at his touch.

Today’s book is his favourite. Lessons that have long since become one with his mask, that have tried time and time again to fill his being with colour – yet it had never been able to stick for long, fading in a span of hours.

But with his light by his side, illuminating him, the bubble built from shadows of the night, maybe this time will be different.

Chapter Text

Till wakes up to black hair and a soft warmth, seeping into his skin. It’s so hopelessly soft, especially in the cool morning air, with sunlight filtering through the windows.

Ivan wears an expression of peaceful calm and though Till hasn’t known him for very long, it’s such a sharp contrast to the intenseness his face usually holds. It’s an expression that makes Till want to bask in it, just a little longer, circumstances be damned.

But he doesn’t allow himself as much, knows better than to get used to the thing he’ll soon see so sparsely of. It makes him regret, for just a moment, that he plans to leave so soon. Maybe if he weren’t the duke, if Ivan wasn’t the prince…

A soft sigh escapes him, and he shakes his head, dismissing the thought. There is no point in dwelling on what can’t be gained. No matter how much Till has come to like Ivan, he remains the duke and Ivan remains the prince.

(And really… who is he kidding? Though Ivan shows interest in him now, there’s no way that will remain, right? In truth, he isn’t half the duke he’s supposed to be – isn’t one in anything but title, and he has no interesting qualities that Ivan could grow to love.

In the end, Till knows so much about Ivan through playing the game, but does Ivan know anything about him? Of course not. And maybe it’s cruel, but Till wants to bask in the affection, platonic or romantic, that Ivan allows him to experience, if only just a bit longer. No doubt, if Ivan found out that Till isn’t a duke… that Till is just Till, he would lose interest in no time.)

Ivan wakes to Till diligently pouring over papers and books, reading carefully.

Ivan has half the mind to wish him a good morning, but… it’s hard to interrupt the moment. From the crease of the brows to the small pout Till wears – his current expression is one of single-minded focus, another one to add to his mental library.

It’s a little regretful, he thinks, that the thing Till is so focused on is the one thing keeping him here.

Once he signs, Till will have no reason to stay anymore. Ivan won’t have a reason to eat with him, won’t be able to steal moments together and won’t be able gaze at the colour spilling from him.

Missing things was a foreign concept to Ivan, but his heart already aches terribly at the thought of parting. If he already feels like this while Till is right in front of him, how utterly unbearable will it be once he leaves?

What if Ivan followed him? Ivan would throw his life away for Till without a second thought, all material goods, all the power he gains from his position… they all pale in face of the bliss Till’s mere presence brings to his life, the colours he paints Ivan’s world with, the life Till fills him with.

But what would Till want? What would Till need? If Ivan were to follow, would they be able to live comfortably together every day? Would they be able to create a home together, one that serves as more than just a simple shelter?

No. They wouldn’t be able to do any of that. Rumours would haunt Till’s every day. Accusations and cruel words. Ivan would give up the world for Till… he doesn’t want Till to do the same just for him.

He exhales silently, hopping up and wrapping his arms around Till, causing him to jump in surprise, a (cute) squeak escaping him in the process.

“Working so hard in the moment already? We should get breakfast first, shouldn’t we?”

To Ivan’s delight, Till doesn’t even attempt to shrug him off, even leaning into the embrace, if only ever so slightly.

(It’s unnatural, how such a slight action could cause his heart to flutter so much, how something so subtle could fill him with euphoric warmth. He’ll cherish these moments, tuck them away into the furthest corners of his mind for safekeeping. Never will he ever allow them to slip away from him.)

Ivan talks Till into taking a break, at least for a little, just twenty minutes, he says. They go to a café, and Ivan watches as Till eats the simplest of dishes with wonder, as though he had never seen them before – hopelessly endearing. Everything Till does is hopelessly endearing.

Twenty minutes turn into thirty, turn into an hour, turn into two. Till gives him an unamused stare, but doesn’t cut their time short, listens to Ivan talk about the kingdom, and about his days, but most precious of all, he answers with stories of his own.

Though never full, never complete and always with some details washed away, Till tells Ivan of his own life, of days spent working away at tasks, of the lessons he subjugates himself to.

He even shares the things he loves with Ivan, with bright eyes and happiness seeping out of his very being. Of the music he writes, of the stories he reads, of paintings he made.

(Though when Ivan asks to see them, Till seems crestfallen, only stating that it’s impossible now. But before Ivan can allow the disappointment to reach his mind, Till promises to draw him one day. Ivan can’t wait.)

As they return to the castle, they’re met with the others. First Sua and Mizi, then Hyuna and Luka.

The friend group slots into place, conversation flowing easily between the five, and Till once again feels so clearly out of place.

It doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t. Not when he will leave again soon.

(He can’t help the bone deep regret and bitter jealousy pooling in his throat like a poison though.)

“Psst. Your grace.”

A blink. Two. Oh, that was directed at him?

“Yeah? I mean, yes, your highness?”
Till looks at Sua, nervousness taking the jealousy’s place. She, other than Ivan, was the one person who didn’t look at him like a complete criminal, but that also meant his own actions mattered.

He could make a positive impression or a lifelong enemy, and it would be all his fault, no one else who could possibly be blamed.

“Do you like him? Ivan, I mean.”

Heat rushes to his cheeks – scarlet red and way too obvious an answer.

Sua’s expression reveals nothing, a perfect poker face, scary in a way he hasn’t seen before.

“I – w-well… yeah… I guess I do.”

A silent stare, assessing, judging. Till can’t bear to return the gaze, and finds his own glued to Ivan’s back, almost as though clinging to him for a sense of security – the safe person that had magically wormed his way into Till’s heart and mind.

“He likes you too.”

Till’s eyes return to Sua, meeting her perfectly blank expression with one of regret.

“I know. It’s not hard to guess… kind of.”
A silent sigh. Doesn’t that make it all harder? At least if Ivan held no interest in him, it would be far easier to move on. There would be no reason to cling to his feelings, to hold them close as he has in the secrecy of his heart, even unknown to his mind.

“And?”

Sua asks, but she knows. They both know well. Till is the duke and Ivan is the prince. Whether they love each other or not, it’s impossible.

The past few days of stolen moments, of quiet hours spent together, they’re all they will get. The weight of their titles are too impossible to bear together.

Chapter Text

Their time together is running out. They both know it. From the nights spent together in the library to the way Till starts packing his things a few days later.

Till sends a letter in advance, tells Acorn of what happened. And then he signs the papers, hands them to Ivan.

Ivan takes them with a smile too practiced to be real, lacking any of the softness their past shared ones held. It hurts, of course it does, especially knowing they both want the same thing… (well at least Till thinks so. Sua pretty much confirmed it after all!)

But what will they do? It’s impossible to change who they are in this world.

As soon as Till is gone, Ivan’s expression morphs into one clouded by darkness. His eyes are pitch black on the best of days, yet they still held a flicker of light, specks like stars in an infinite sky.

The same sky is a pitch black now – void like, light unable to escape its grasp, swallowed whole before it even has the chance to attempt.

Still, that doesn’t matter right now. It won’t ever matter. Even when his world is already turning to static, even when he wants nothing more than to run after his god.

Ivan holds the papers in his hands like an item to be worshiped, traces the outline of Till’s signature with a finger, reverence in ever stroke. A lone devote. He won’t ever be able to show even a fraction of his love, not to the world as it is at least. So instead, he will pour it into every last action, will treat the paper as gently as he can only dream of treating Till.

Till stares at the outside world as it passes by, mind far far elsewhere. He tries to stay in the now, to forget hauntingly mesmerizing eyes and that stupidly pretty face, to move on from something that has only recently begun to bloom in his chest. But it’s so terribly impossible when all he sees outside is trees and endless fields, and thorned vines grow from memories, digging into his heart, refusing to let go, even as he moves further and further away from the cause of them.

And suddenly, none of it matters anymore, thoughts and feelings consumed by a pitch black, not at all like that which plagued him before.

Acorn had a nice time while the duke was away. It was easy, after all, he was already handling things such as trades and so, he didn’t have to change any schedules, nor did he have to learn a new role.

As well the atmosphere became lighter. Though staff members did warm up to this new side of their duke, there was always a lingering tenseness, a sliver of mistrust that couldn’t be shaken. So, when the duke had gone, it was as though the whole estate took a relieved sigh.

It doesn’t matter anyway, does it? It’s not like the duke would know in the end.

Tenseness starts to trickle in again when a letter arrives, telling of the duke making his way back. With how far it the capitol is, it would leave them around a day to prepare. Not that they really needed it, considering only very few things would change when the duke did return.

After all, despite everything, despite how he behaved before, the duke now insists on doing quite a lot of daily things by himself. Insisting on dressing himself, insisting on making breakfast himself, all these little things that the duke had never done before.

Sometimes Acorn wonders why the change – after all, it seemed to happen overnight. One day there was an intimidating figure, full of fierceness and cruelty and the next he was met with the same figure, now oozing of unfamiliarity, of someone who didn’t know things they should have.

But it doesn’t matter. Things became easier, so who would want to prod into that and risk undoing it all?

And a day passes. Two. The duke doesn’t show.

Ivan almost falls out of his chair when Sua informs him that Till is back and asking for him.

It makes him ecstatic, floating in cloud 9, enough so to almost make him forget all reason and rush to see him.

But he doesn’t, still holds enough self-control for at least that. He walks at a normal pace, with a normal expression, despite the side eye he gets from Sua, despite the stare he gets from Hyuna.

Seeing Till again feels odd – almost as though they’ve been apart for years, when it’s only been a day at most. And it feels wrong. The words sweet and kind, yet the tone with an edge that hadn’t been there before, with a hint of disgust in his eyes every time he looks at Ivan, an annoying smirk, almost condescending, even through Ivan’s rose-tinted glasses.

It causes a horrible itch under Ivan’s skin, makes him want to wrap his hands around Till’s neck tight tight tight, until the disgust left those beautiful eyes, even if he would walk him to death. Ivan would dig around under his skin, would dissect every single part until he found what caused the change. After all such blasphemy of his God couldn’t be tolerated, even if it came from that God himself.

But Ivan knows better than to do that. He is the prince after all, and a master at keeping his thoughts hidden from the world. He observes in silence, watches the fake deity prance around as his God, and smiles along as he would with the true one.

Till wakes up alone and in pain, skull pounding with a force he hasn’t experienced since his 18th birthday. A lone party, with only himself, a new apartment and all too many bottles – it’s almost a wonder he lived past the day.

When he goes to reach for it though, he finds his arms restricted, bound to the chair he’s seated on. Or at least he thinks it’s a chair, unable to see through pitch blackness that still persists even after waking.

It makes him panic, pulling his arms with all his might, struggling to escape yet failing miserably.

It doesn’t remain his biggest concern – thoughts cut off with a piercing pain coming from his fingers, nails being pulled pulled pulled, loud cries falling from his mouth as hot agony spreads from his fingers through his arm, piercing and pulsing, big waves of hot wetness on his hands, on his face. Pleas escape his mouth, disrupted by hiccupping sobs, air barely reaching his lungs – lightheaded from lack of oxygen and pure pain, setting his nerves on fire.

He screams and cries, squirms in his seat until he can't move anymore, until his voice dies, until his fingers go painfully numb, like small needle pricks across every single surface of his skin. And god... god his only wish is to die. But god had never been kind to him, nor would any start being kind now. Throat sore and fingers aching, his only solace is darkness that spreads from his eyes to his other senses as he once again passes out.

Acorn rushes to the capitol to demand answers. May it come across as rude, but the duke he had come to know wasn’t one to remain absent after sending a letter, quite conscious of other people’s time. The only option he sees is in the duke being obstructed from leaving.

He wouldn’t be surprised, his reputation known far and wide. What if the king finally had enough? What if he wished to put an end to “the tyrannical duke”?

It takes an agonizing day to get to the castle. And though it has become dinner time, Acorn wastes no time in bursting into the dining room on his search for the king – only to find teal eyes staring at him with a disgust and cruelty he hasn’t seen in months.

Chapter Text

Till is alone when he wakes up. Or at least he thinks so. He can’t tell with the all-consuming black void obstructing his senses.

His nails still tingle painfully though, and that is what draws him out of the fog inside his brain. He’s not sure if he likes it – the world outside much too painful.

He feels like he’s 5 again, 5 and just getting acquainted with death.

His parents had loved him, he knows that much, but love never saved anyone when it mattered, and he grew to resent them for it. They shouldn’t have loved him so much, for if they hadn’t perhaps, they would have lived. Even to his 5-year-old self that seemed better than him being alive alone, even if it meant his death.

After all, even in the orphanage he lived in, no one ever wanted him, no one ever felt like a friend, or like they could even begin to love him.

All the people who cared for him did it out of duty. And he was far from an easy kid to get along with. He knows he’s at fault for being alone so long, at least now he knows. But back then, he cursed the world, and cursed his parents too. Saving him? How stupid, how much did they hate him for leaving him alone and unloved?

Of course, that sentiment didn’t stick. He grew to be thankful for their sacrifices, grew to at least attempt to enjoy life.

Did he? He’s sure he did… if not because of friends, his music carried him along, didn’t it?

And then he played the game, became the Till of this world – the duke. He learned what love was after 16 years without and it felt so addictive, so hopelessly warm.

But cruel as the world is, he wasn’t allowed to keep it for himself. The prince of all people. The prince who was meant to slay him in his route of the game. The prince he had vowed to stay away from.

But Ivan was so loving, so hopelessly in love with whatever he saw in Till… it became far too difficult to give up.

His heart still aches now, at the thought of not being able to see him like that again – maybe not able to see him ever again.

Whoever took him clearly disliked him. Would he die? Would he perish all alone, in a world he didn’t belong to, abandoned once again?

Maybe. Maybe…  

A pain rips through his leg, pulling out a loud scream that leaves his throat aching and rings in his ears.

He feels hot tears well up in his eyes, feels them roll down his cheeks and feels panic rising once again.

It hurts, god it hurts. Why? He wants it to stop…

The thoughts tumble out of his mouth in a steady stream of sobs and pleas, yet the only reply is ugly laughter, and he knows he will not get the mercy he wishes for.

Ivan… hates the duke. Whoever he is. He refuses to call the creature Till. Where Till is kind and genuine, this creature puts on a sugary sweetness that bites as you swallow his words, painfully fake in Ivan’s ears, using a voice that should now belong to him.

Ivan is a good actor though, has managed to fool the world into believing he is one of them, that he is human at all.

But monsters recognize each other, even if they are different kinds of monsters. Ivan recognises this creature as one of his own – a faker, willing to pretend it is something it isn’t even if it breaks other people’s hearts.

Ivan knows better than to challenge it for now, wants to observe and dissect it in his mind until he finds a definite weakness.

It occurs to him now, watching the creature chatter away at the dinner table, no one else knew the duke, knew Till well enough to recognize such a fake. He also recognizes that should he expose this creature… would he be able to clear Till’s name?

Show the world he isn’t nearly as cruel as they seem to think? Perhaps… no, is it too selfish?

Still, Ivan can’t help but hope that if he does, if the world does learn of this deceit, they will accept Till for the God he is, for the goodness he imbodies.

But how to pull off the mask? Ivan knows better than anyone else how difficult it can be when no traces are left behind. What proof does Ivan have? A few sugary words and a slight shift in behaviour won’t do it, will never be able to unmask such a tight fit.

Acorn bursts into the room and stares, cruel eyes staring back at him. A chill crawls along his back, the distinct feeling of wrongness setting into his bones.

His lord, the duke he serves had once looked at him that way, but never again after his personality shift.

So, what happened? Did his personality return to the rotten mess he had held before?

Acorn can’t tell if it’s sorrow for a lost friend or fear of a familiar enemy that drives him to search for any other possibility in his mind. Did the duke have a twin brother? Then perhaps the kind person he had known had been troubled by this thing now sitting in front of him.

The sound of a throat being cleared rips him out of his mind – the king expects a reason, and perhaps Acorn should feel differently, but he feels that in face of the fake lord, facing the king is much easier.

“My… My apologies for interrupting your majesty… your highnesses. I was merely… concerned, and greatly troubled, for my lord, the duke,” he gestures to the person with his head, disapproving of the words leaving his mouth in his mind, “was meant to return yesterday, yet he never did… and knowing my lord as well as I do, I knew he would not be late unless it was for a good reason. So, in my worry, I made my way here.”

The king is kind, such a reason should placate him, should it not? After all, even if he interrupted a dinner, wouldn’t such a reason show the devotion, the care he holds for his lord? The real one.

Ivan watches the display with dark eyes, not a single expression allowed on his face as he mulls over the words, thinking of a decision to make.

This person… truly seemed to care for Till – he too would recognise the creature, wouldn’t he?

A soft sigh escapes his mouth, and he smiles, relieved and warm around the heart. It was lucky Till was truly loved – by more than just him. Though he knows his love to be different, perhaps more corrupted than the care this person showed, Ivan hoped these two kinds of love would be enough to cause a flaw in the creature’s costume.

He gets up, coughing into a fist to draw attention.

“Your majesty, if you would permit, I would like to talk to this man.”

His father was always easily fooled by a kind smile, brimming with innocence even if under his skin there was none to be found.

Ivan pulls the man along, out of the dining hall and into a secluded area, only barely catching glimpse of a face full of distrust and… is that mild panic? The mask must surely be slipping. Did the creature not expect Till to be cared for?

“Explain what you know, leave no detail out. How did you figure the duke was in trouble, why did you think the man sitting at that table isn’t the duke you know? You do think so do you not? He isn’t after all.”
Maybe, with a little bit of luck…

Till wakes up from passing out once again. It’s not dark this time, and Till thinks it may be worse.

He isn’t tied up anymore, simply leaning against a wall, in the corner of a small, bloody room.

If he still had the energy now, he would feel nauseous, but it’s utterly impossible to even bring an ounce of care when his entire body is caked in red and sweat and tears.

Moving feels like a chore, especially against all the pain. It lingers on his skin like tiny needles, breaking him down to the bone, where an acidic poison eats him whole.

No one is touching him now, but phantom hands, breaking the bones within his own still linger and the hot, iron touch of a branding metal still clings to his thigh.

“Traitor”, a brand he had been given – perhaps to atone for actions not his own.

Traitor… traitor… traitor… would that be all he is now? After all, without cloth covering it, the whole world is privy to his brand, able to stare and judge mercilessly.

Till would cry, but even without sobs, tears feel exhausting.

He doesn’t want to be here… no more… never again…

So, he leaves. Into the confines of his mind, where Ivan waits for him, sits under a treat in the warmth of the sun and kisses his pain away. Heals every open wound with the brush of kind fingers, soft and not at all as rough as the ones that had broken him down.

Traitor… Ivan kisses the word away, lifts him of the burden of his title.

Ivan doesn’t think he’s a traitor, not in the slightest. Ivan loves him, doesn’t he? He loves him enough to stay. Loves him enough to collect the pieces of ‘Till’ and put him back together, if only here, where the outside world won’t reach them anymore.

Even sharp edges and shards full of hate for the world don’t deter Ivan. Because Ivan loves him, doesn’t he? Ivan does love Till… right?

Ivan purses his lips thinking over what Acorn had told him – the shift in character, the way Till acted like he did before. It seems impossible. There is no way his God is an actual monster, is there?

No, Ivan won’t accept it. Till isn’t like him, not in the slightest. Till, Till, the Till he knew, the Till he loves. Till isn’t a liar. He doesn’t hide his true nature, but wears his heart on his sleeve, from the way he blushes at compliments, to the way he works hard to do what he needs to, even in the face of hurting them both – Till is admirable, and not at all like Ivan. Till is good. There is simply no other possible way.

He glances at Acorn who stares back at him.

They will have to do something. Ivan needs to do something. Ivan needs to convince Acorn his lord is a different one, not at all the creature prancing around in the dining hall.

But where to begin? Is there no proof of this fake?
A blink. Two. Ivan grins to himself, running to grab paper and pen. Till would be able to prove himself, if he were here. Would this doppelgänger be?

Pain. Pain invades his senses once again. Pain from his head to his toes, pain in every single limb.

Ivan stays with him, holds him tight. Ivan kisses his tears away, soothes him with pretty words that Till knows are fake.

Escape? Save? How? It seems so impossible, when all he can do is cry for help and scream in pain.

There’s no escape, there’s no safety. It’s not fine. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to leave Ivan.

But living seems so impossible. Why would he want to live now? Like this? No, it’s impossible.
Death is the better option; it has to be.

A quiet sigh. Sweet nothings in his ears, silky sweet voice. He is loved. But love won’t save him.

It didn’t then, why would it now?