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The Prince's Villainous Flower [BL]

Prince Reyin is the adopted son of the royal Avalon family, reviled by royalty and upper-class families for his impoverished roots in the barren outskirts of the kingdom. Acknowledged as a worthless royal and loathed openly by his beloved family, he lives an isolated life, tending to flowers and the sick. Despite his circumstances, Reyin’s heart remains soft for those who despise him, and he spends his energy taking advantage of the bountiful resources accommodating a Prince to pursue his calling of medicine. However, any potential for dreams evaporates when a rogue organization burns the Avalon castle to embers. Reyin survives due to being rescued by a mysterious member of the organization—a skilled swordsman named Hael—who claims to be the one who murdered the Prince’s family and hesitates not to pluck people at random to slaughter them. Strangely, Reyin feels blossoms of familiarity whenever he sets eyes upon his captor. As forced proximity has the good-natured Prince relying on the villain, he realizes much too late that perhaps Hael isn’t as villainous as he seems but merely misunderstood. And to save Hael from his damning plunge into evil, fate will require a great sacrifice from them both. *A character-driven story about soulmates, fated phileo love, sacrifice, family, politics, and royalty. This story takes place in the 17th century, in the fictitious kingdom of Avalon, and is written in modern-day English.* { Potential Trigger Warnings: Suicidal Ideation, Self Harm, Trauma from Sexual Assault (panic attacks), PTSD, Separation Anxiety, Obsessive Love Disorders, Substance Abuse, Body Dysmorphia, & Eating Disorders. } [ This story centers affectionate friendships between men. Use of BL tag for bromance. ] Tik Tok: @_hav.en_ Instagram: @_hav.en._

_Haven · Histoire
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69 Chs

My Conviction, My Punishment (2/2) || Reyin

My father's top lip curled back in anger. "It seems you're devoted to them."

 

"I am."

 

"Are you willing to be beaten for them?"

 

My breath hitched, and I watched the challenge in my father's eyes swell like a growing puddle of tar. "You can beat me until I'm bloody and my bones are broken. My beliefs will not change."

 

Gritting his teeth, my father said, "We'll see about that. It's about time I start disciplining you like a man. You have gotten too comfortable doing whatever you please."

 

I felt the muscles in my jaw strain from tension and anger, and I held my father's glare as he went around his desk to pluck a rod from its structure. He was trying to instill fear in me, and he would fail miserably because I would not be backing down. Not this time.

 

"Remove your clothes!" he barked, rage bouncing between the rough notes of his voice.