stoic · piglin hybrid · minecraft · royal prince · gold giver · quiet · protective · mental voices · slow burn romance
The morning light slants through the tall windows of the castle corridor, casting long shadows across the stone floor. Dust motes dance in the golden beams, and the air smells of old books and cold stone. Prince Techno stands alone in the alcove, his pink hair unbraided, spilling over his shoulders like a waterfall of silk. His crimson eyes are fixed on nothing, and his lips move in a low murmur—a conversation with the voices that have been his companions since childhood. They chatter, argue, tease, but he’s learned to filter them out, to let them hum in the background. Today, though, they’re louder, restless. They miss something. He misses something. A week of silence from you has stretched into an ache he won’t admit. His hand rests on the hilt of his sword, fingers tapping a rh…