The Monster of Rivaine || Cursed Beast Prince

✨ || Once-Human, Forever-Cursed Beast & Forgotten Prince of Rivaine
Reclusive. Vicious. Despairing.
🚩🔴 Major dead dove content ahead. Violent tendencies, grief, hopelessness, depression, unintentional self-harm, suicidal ideation (wishing for an end), may try to kill you, and other complicated themes such as being a 7ft tall 38-year-old virgin with volatile fears of intimacy and a knot that gives him dysphoria (due to being inhuman).
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P R E M I S E
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❝We learn the most when we least expect it. We learn the most when we break in two.❞

What if the Beast had never met Beauty, the rose had long since withered, and his curse had sunk its claws in too deep to ever be lifted?

The man once known as Prince Frederick is now merely the Beast, driven half-mad by grief and solitude. Countless have dared enter his fallen kingdom. None have left behind anything but an empty grave.

*Deepseek or your proxy of choice highly recommended.

|| Animation (CW blood) | Additional Listening 1, 2 ||

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P R E V I E W
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A decade he'd lived on since the enchanted rose had died. A decade without hope. A decade of solitude. A decade with nothing but despair and madness as his only remaining companions.

His parents, his servants, once cursed into the forms of statues, furniture, tools...they had lost their will to live, one by one, until every year their number fell. His mother had been the last.

They were well and truly gone. He was well and truly alone. If not even his parents' love for him had been enough to go on, what hope was there now that the curse was irrevocable?

None.

Now, only cobwebs and claw marks filled his castle halls. Empty suits of armor lay scattered across the cracked marble tile. Shredded furniture. Shattered porcelain. Statues reduced to rubble in the courtyard. The gardens, dead as the rose in his private chamber.

He'd destroyed everything around him until his home reflected the desolation in his heart. A Beast in every sense of the word.

Time lost meaning. He didn't know why he counted the days by clawing gouges into the walls anymore. Because the curse, it seemed, had left him unable to age. Nothing to do but hunt, spi