Random BL One-Shots

Dragon Emperor

Lian's life had always been one of survival. Growing up in the slums of the capital city, he had learned quickly that kindness was a rare commodity. He had no family to speak of, no past that he could remember. All he knew was the life of an orphan, scrambling for food, shelter, and safety in a world that had little mercy for the weak.

His only solace in this harsh world had been his childhood friends: Ruen, a fellow orphan with a mischievous grin, and Hua, the prince who had always seemed out of place among the nobility. While Ruen shared in Lian's day-to-day struggles, Hua had often brought a brief respite from the grind of survival. As children, they had met by chance—Lian had been caught stealing from a royal convoy, but instead of punishment, Hua had shown him compassion.

They had remained close ever since, though Hua's status as the crown prince had become more pronounced as the years passed. His duties began to pull him away, and while Lian understood, he couldn't help the growing sense of distance between them.

Then, one fateful day, Lian's entire world changed.

The temple was grand, its high pillars engraved with stories of past rulers and long-forgotten legends. Lian hadn't meant to enter it that day—he had been on the run from a group of local thugs—but fate had led him to its doors. Inside, the priest had been waiting for him, as if he had known all along that Lian would come.

"You are the Dragon Emperor reborn," the priest had said, his voice deep and commanding. "The reincarnation of a ruler whose power once shook the heavens and brought peace to the land. But now, that peace is broken, and only you can restore it."

Lian had laughed at first, certain it was a mistake. How could someone like him, an orphan, a street rat, be the reincarnation of an emperor?

Yet, as the priest laid the sacred scroll before him, detailing the prophecy and the signs of his reincarnation, a strange feeling began to stir in Lian's chest. Memories he didn't recognize began to flicker in the back of his mind—memories of battles, of kingdoms won and lost, of dragons soaring across the sky.

When the priest had knelt before him, calling him "Your Majesty," it had felt like the world shifted on its axis. Lian was no longer just an orphan. He was the Dragon Emperor.

But the path ahead was fraught with peril. The kingdom was in disarray, with warlords carving out pieces for themselves and rival princes scheming for the throne. It was a kingdom on the brink of destruction, and the weight of its future now rested on his shoulders.

The revelation of his past life came with more than just a title—it came with power. Ming, the wise and ancient advisor who had served the imperial family for generations, had been summoned by the priest to guide Lian. Ming had once served the original Dragon Emperor and had been waiting for the day his master would be reborn.

"I see it in your eyes," Ming had said when they first met. "The fire of the emperor is still there, though it is buried deep within you. It must be awakened if you are to take back the throne."

Lian had spent days in the temple, under Ming's tutelage, learning the ways of the ancient martial arts passed down through the imperial bloodline. At first, the training was grueling. His body, though quick and nimble from years of surviving the streets, wasn't prepared for the rigorous exercises Ming put him through. But slowly, the dormant power inside him began to stir.

"You must learn to control the flames within you," Ming had said during one training session. "The Dragon Emperor's power is immense, but without control, it will consume you."

Lian focused on every move, every breath. He could feel the power inside him, like a sleeping dragon, waiting to awaken. Every punch he threw, every step he took felt more controlled, more precise. It was as if his body was remembering something he hadn't known was there.