#Anaxagoras x you

[n0tamused]

Hello! Congrats on 1.500 followers! May I request Fluff Prompt # 26. "Do you think we're friends/lovers in every universe?" (Romantic) for Amphoreus men: Mydei, Phainon, and Anaxa?

Thank you so much!

✿"Do you think we're lovers in every universe?"

A/n: Thank you! I hope you enjoy this <3

Ko-Fi |  1.5K followers event

˖ ࣪⊹Mydei

The question initially puzzles him, almost as if he doesn’t understand it, but the truth is that he simply never had the time to ponder over such things. It is an abstract thought, much like the thought of tomorrow, but in some small part of his chest he is sure of it as well. 

“Hmm.. I do not doubt that even in the vastness of the universe and bounds of time, our souls have found their way to one another in another place, as they did here” He told you, not looking directly at you but somewhere out into the sky, the thought clinging to the corners of his mind. It was a bit rare to hear him speak in such a way, so..hopeful and gentle, almost pure, even with the gravel still present in his words, but it was that sincerity that had your heart wishing to leap into his embrace. 

You knew that if some force in another universe had decided it would want to prevent you two from meeting, Mydei would have cleaved through it like a hot knife slides through butter. And you would have fought all the same. 

Perhaps it was an idealistic approach, overly romantic, but it felt too true to debate it. You sunk deeper into Mydei’s side, feeling his arm pull you into him as you embraced him, smiling.

˖ ࣪⊹Anaxa

“In every univers?” he furrows his brows as he pauses from writing down another word, “That is quite an.. intriguing question. Multiple different realities, different settings but all with the same players. Seems like a bit of a stretch to me..” he shook his head, but the faltering of his grip on his quill spoke of unspoken thoughts that the question sparked in his mind. 

“The chances of us being together, or even knowing each other in every single universe is a low probability. In a way, it is almost absurd” he continued on, “however, in the universes we are together in, I have no doubts that you are one of the very few I openly hold dear”

Truth of this question is all out of reach, but that does not stop one mind from wondering and wandering, not even his own mind whom he boasts is always founded in facts and evidence. But there was something so symbolic and romantic in your inquiry that he could not deny, it was a comforting concept, and for a moment he wished he could glimpse into this other universe. But perhaps to glimpse such a thing, he needs to first cherish every single moment here, which he plans to do. 

˖ ࣪⊹Phainon

Phainon smiles when you ask that, looking over at you with a fond smile and even fonder eyes. A small touch of sadness graces his heart but he dares not let it affect him in that moment, instead he lets his mind flood with images of different universes. You and him. In one you have your hair in a different color, and he has his hair long, in another he is building a house for the both of you and you’re bringing out a tray of your favorite snacks and his favorite drink. Many more fill his thoughts, and he finds no doubt within his being - he’d love you in all the universes. 

“That is quite possible.. The universe is infinite, and so are the possibilities of our meeting. I believe we are together in every one, meeting under different circumstances, finding out again and again the same little things about one another.. Yes.. I can’t imagine a world where we do not meet, where we are not together..”

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[starrydragoness]

Anaxa x Reader - NSFW Headcanons

Contents: 18+, MDNI, general nsfw hcs, written with fem reader in mind but you/yours used

A/n: Omg I'm finally posting after a million years. How are y'all doing💔 here's something for y'all Anaxa fans. Hope you enjoy!

Words:692

-There is not much Anaxa is necessarily into when put on paper; his libido is on the lower end of the scale but that doesn't mean he doesn't have things he fancies more than others

-For him, it can depend on many factors so the answer is not as black and white. But he definitely enjoys things as oral, feeling in control and also to see that you're focused on him - that you want him

-In terms of oral, it doesn't necessarily need to be either one of you giving head to the other. Sometimes, usually during sex Anaxa does like to feel your tongue against his fingers. In that regard we can also call this some odd mouth obsession from him, he does love your lips and your witty tongue the most. It's just natural he'd like to exercise a form of control by holding it down- telling you to lick his fingers clean

-He does prefer to give, although when it comes to receiving oral he'd never turn it down from his beloved. He may need to sigh or cough to stifle his lustful groans but by the end of it he's just as a mess as you are- even more than that. Sucking him off is one sure way to dismantle him completely, it shows him that you really want him and, in a way, that's enough to make him lose it

-He is pretty sensitive down there when he's in the mood, so you're gonna have no trouble overstimulating him, should you wish to do so..👀

-While he does have lower end libido, that doesn't stop him from indulging in things that may stimulate him for the act later in the day. Be it saying provocative words to you while you pass each other down the winding halls of the Grove, subtle enough for anyone else in earshot to not notice the real implications, or by eating foods that can stimulate him from within. (Aphrodisiacs or that new chocolate that sprouted in the market, wink wink)

-He's really not opposed to experimenting either, he just prefers to talk about it in advance as he really doesn't like doing things on a whim, so don't try surprising him - he's gonna go on some tirade or the other and before you know it he has pulled up some improvisation move of its own kind and you're now the one lagging behind on the plan

-Loves simple position, cowgirl preferably as this man prefers seeing you bounce on him, doing the work to show him how much you need him or to show him how much you want to make him feel good. He can stimulate you further from this position, grabbing, pulling, licking, biting, seeing all the pretty face expressions you make

-Riding him in his office chair at home is nothing new or rare

-Anaxa also has a thing for remaining clothed to some extent. This is especially prominent at the start where he's not that eager to take all his clothes off. So expect clothed sex, nice and slow. Later on he does become more comfortable of course, and he wants you to see all of him and that's always reserved for the bedroom specifically, but otherwise there's just something about the comfort of his clothes that he can't let go of

-Doesn't really like risking it by doing the deed where someone might come across the two of you. Mostly changes locations within his home - his home office, the bedroom, bathroom, kitchen counter - he prefers the bedroom and the office, to no one's surprise

-Having mentioned at the start that everything with him can depend on other factors, that nothing is black and white, comes into play now too. Anaxa loves both praise and degradation. A good mix where it makes your body tingle, sometimes you have to question yourself whether what he just said was praise or degradation but you're not given much time to ponder as he turns your thoughts to mush

-He loves to taunt you, husky voice whispering in your ear before he groans as he feels you tighten around his shaft

Ⓒ starrydragoness. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[voidcat]

In the meantime thinking about Anaxagoras who wants to offer you help in any way you can so he tries to give you a massage but he has no idea what he is doing…

The massage itself isn’t doing much either but at the very least it isn’t worsening your pain overall. Moving up from your legs to your arms then to your shoulder, he slowly moves upwards, dedicating time and care to each section of your body- with the kindling hope that at best, his touches will bring a sense of comfort, a ‘hey, I’m here for you’ that with contact, his love and care will be carried through.

Carefully placed fingers slide by your shoulders and grip the tender but stiff flesh. Already used to the feeling for the past hour, you don’t have anything on your mind nor a need to control your inhibitions. So when Anaxagoras’ hands move and squeeze, as if you’re but clay under his crafting hands, you cannot hold back the moan that escapes your lips at how good that felt.

Immediately after tensing up, both of you remain silent for a bit. Tick, tock, a drop of breath and the silence disperses when the both of you break into laughter- albeit yours is a little mixed with tears. “S-stop! Please! I-t hurts to laugh, y-you know.”

Leaning towards you, he gently rests his chin atop the crown of your head, humming in thought, he places a kiss there and pulls back. “Well, it seems as our research thus far shows, now you need to drop your guard and relax.”

From behind you, you can hear him shuffling and moving, then feel his breath by your ear. Pressing his head to yours from the side like cats nuzzling and snuggling one another, “Let me take care of you and just enjoy yourself. We can prepare a hot bath after.” His voice reaches you, seductive and lulling, you relax your muscles best to your ability and let your dear handle the rest.

[screamingcrows]

Notes: Anaxagoras drabble pre-release because I simply can't resist a blasphemous scholar. Steal this and you're getting every airborne pathogen I know. Tags: Anaxagoras x reader, implied friends to .... well, sfw, 800 words Minors DNI

The forces governing all phenomena must operate based on universal fact. An all-encompassing set of 'laws' when explained through our language. But how do we even begin to comprehend what we cannot perceive, and by what means do we discover the blind spots?

Anaxagoras had always been fascinated by that which he could not explain, a trait coveted by adults when you were both children. The pace with which his knowledge expanded had been nearly frightening, swallowing it up as though a vortex existed in his midst.

"Truth," he continued, one hand covering an eye as he peered into the starlit night, "is what we make of it, what each of us can perceive and prophecy the bridge between what we know and what we see."

A soft hum left your lips, merely signaling that your attention was still on him. The two of you had been friends for far longer than a decade, so used to the ideas spurred on by his now scorned curiosity that nothing he said could rattle you. Not even the idea of prophecies being lies.

"But there must be something, somewhere, that perceives all, possibly even orchestrating it."

Your hand left the cold rock that you were both resting atop, reaching towards the stars alongside his. Blots of ink and faint red lines from where paper had cut his skin stained the delicate hands that had wiped countless tears from your cheeks.

His monologue halted for a moment when your fingers laced with his, guiding his hand back down to place a kiss in his palm. The content sigh he let out made you smile, knowing you'd once more halted his detachment from the ground. If not for the fragility of the physical body, surely his spirit would've long since taken a seat among the stars.

"I propose the existence of a 'mind' governing and ordering everything. If all is made from the same base components, it must be given shape to create all that we see," his voice had softened to an almost melancholic tone, "I will not pretend to know the laws that govern all, but this must be part of the truth as I view it. I've termed it 'Nous', the cosmic mind ordering homogenous chaos into this-"

A white flower was placed in your hand, the rarity of the gesture translating to something foreboding as you completed his sentence, "orderly chaos, but chaos nonetheless."

Worse still was the feeling when he moved your hand to rest atop his heartbeat. "I'm almost led to believe you pay attention to my words." Even with the lightness of his words, nothing in their meaning lessened the weight settling on your soul.

Still, it would be cruel to let it show, instead responding in a way he knew, nudging his shoulder gently. "I always do."

Satisfied, Anaxagoras saw fit to continue, "This Nous, of course, implies the existence of not only life beyond what we know, but also of forces mightier than our Titans."

"Have you heard what they're calling you?"

He turned his head, bright eyes piercing both the darkness and your heart, "A fool? I-"

"Some of them take it further than that, calling you a blasphemer," truly, you had no desire to oppose the man beside you, the regret no doubt seeping into your words, "maybe exercising some restraint in public would do you good?"

It was unreasonable for him to cup your cheek at a time like this, your throat tightening in anticipation of the gentle press of lips against your own.

"Only those with something to hide are angered by questions," his words were almost lost to the ringing in your ears, "the truth I've suggested challenges the validity of their prophesies, should it not then be their honor to disprove me instead of lashing out like cornered beasts?"

You let him guide you closer by the back of your neck, foreheads touching when the words you'd been dreaded were spoken into existence. "I'm leaving."

"I know," your voice trembled far more than you would've liked, his attempts at gently rubbing your skin all but soothing this time. You'd always known this day would come, his bearing in itself enough to know that his path would be a lonely one.

"I'll present my ideas at the Grove of Epiphany, blind faith in the Chrysos Heirs and a prophecy alone cannot be the only way forward. I will force their eyes closed if I must to let them glimpse reality beyond what they see."

You inhaled his scent, fresh and crisp like a cold morning in the sun, determined to commit it to memory, so engrossed that you barely heard the whispered apology and a confession better lost to the breeze.

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

༊˚. HOW THEY CUM !

໒꒱. characters : mydei, anaxa & phainon.

໒꒱. warnings : gn!reader － nsfw/smut, cow girl, doggy style, feminine pet-names are used (pretty, etc.), man handling, just h*rny men in general, hair pulling, spanking and dumbification!

Mydei cums with a shuddering breath, golden eyes half-lidded, pupils blown wide as his grip on your hips tightens. He’s always so teasing, so smug with that sharp grin of his, but when he’s close—when he’s buried deep inside, feeling the way you squeeze around him—his voice turns breathless, almost desperate.

He groans your name, dragging you closer, pressing his forehead to yours as he thrusts one last time, his body tensing. Then, warmth floods inside you, his breath hitching against your lips as he grits out, “Take it.” His voice is hoarse, wrecked, but there's still that edge of cocky amusement—like he knows you love the way he fills you up, how you tremble in his grasp.

And Mydei—he doesn’t stop. Even after, he stays buried in you, rolling his hips lazily, making sure you feel every last drop of his release. His lips ghost over your ear, whispering, “Messy already? Mm, don’t worry—I’ll keep going until you can’t even think about standing.”

Mydei doesn’t give you a moment to recover. He stays pressed close, his cock still buried inside, his breath warm against your ear as his hands slide down to your hips. His fingers dig in, gripping tight before he flips you over with ease—manhandling you like you weigh nothing, forcing you onto your hands and knees.

“That's better,” he murmurs, his palm smoothing over the curve of your ass before giving it a sharp slap. A pleased hum escapes him as you jolt, a whimper slipping past your lips. “You look so fucking good like this. All needy and dumb for me.”

Your thoughts feel slow, thick, clouded with nothing but the ache of wanting more. Mydei knows. He always knows. You arch your back, pressing against him, your voice trembling as you whine, “M-Mydei—mmh, want it—”

He chuckles, dark and amused, leaning in to drag his lips over your shoulder, fangs just barely scraping your skin. “Want what, sweetheart?” His hands knead your hips, thumbs digging in as he rolls his cock against you, teasing but never giving you what you need. “Use your words.”

A frustrated little noise leaves you, your head dipping forward as your fingers clutch at the sheets. Everything is too much—the heat, the pressure, the way his voice drips with amusement, like he knows you're already too fucked out to think properly.

“P-please,” you manage, your voice barely above a breathy whimper. “Need you—need your cock—”

Mydei groans, fingers tightening, nails pressing into your skin as he drags your hips back. "That’s more like it." And then he’s sinking back inside, stretching you open all over again, knocking the breath from your lungs as your arms nearly give out beneath you.

“Fuck—” Your voice comes out broken, mind slipping further into hazy pleasure, words falling apart as he sets a ruthless pace, snapping his hips forward with enough force to make you jolt. “M-Mydei—! Hh-ah—feels—”

“Feels good, huh?” He smirks, watching the way you shudder under him, how your voice turns soft and slurred, all the fight melting from your body. “Gods, you're so fucking cute when you're dumb on my cock. Just a pretty little thing, letting me fuck you stupid.”

His grip tightens, dragging you back onto him, forcing you to take it—every inch, every deep thrust that leaves you gasping, trembling. The only thing left in your head is him. His voice, his touch, the way he fills you up, stretches you out, ruins you completely.

And Mydei? He loves it. He loves watching you melt, loves turning you into his perfect, dumb little mess.

★

Anaxa cums with a deep, shuddering groan, his fingers tangling in your hair as he tugs, forcing your head back so he can see the blissed-out look on your face. His cock twitches inside you, buried to the hilt as he holds you down on his lap, keeping you there—keeping you full—while he spills deep inside.

“Fuck—” His breath is heavy, voice rasping against your ear as he grits his teeth, rolling his hips up in slow, shallow thrusts, dragging out every last drop of his release. His other hand is firm on your waist, holding you steady so you don’t squirm away, even as you tremble in his grasp.

“You feel that?” Anaxa’s voice is low, almost teasing, but there’s something raw underneath it, something possessive. His cum is already leaking out around his cock, but he doesn’t let you lift yourself off him, his grip tightening as he presses you down harder. “Not letting a single drop go to waste.”

You whimper, nails digging into his shoulders, legs shaking from how deep he is. But Anaxa only smirks, yanking your head back further so you meet his lidded, hungry gaze. “Mm, what’s wrong? Already too fucked-out?” His hips jerk up suddenly, forcing out a sharp, breathy cry from you.

His smirk widens. “Oh, sweetheart… we’re not done yet.”

Anaxa doesn’t give you time to recover. His grip in your hair stays firm, keeping your head tilted back as he rolls his hips again, slow and deep, letting you feel every inch of his cock inside you. His other hand slides up your waist, fingers splayed against your skin, possessive and unyielding.

“You’re shaking,” he murmurs, voice thick with amusement as he watches you struggle to keep up. “But you can take more, can’t you?” His hand slips from your waist to your throat, not squeezing—just resting there, just enough to make you feel how easily he could take control completely.

Your breath hitches, your hands scrambling against his chest, nails raking over his skin as he shifts beneath you, planting his feet for leverage. “A-Anaxa—”

His smirk darkens. “Good. Now ride.”

He tugs your hair, forcing you forward until your lips nearly brush his, making sure you see the way his eyes burn with hunger. You whimper, your body moving on instinct, rolling your hips over him, dragging his cock in and out at a slow, teasing pace. But it’s not enough—not for him.

Anaxa growls, both hands snapping to your waist, and suddenly you’re lifted and slammed back down onto his cock, the force of it knocking a broken, helpless moan from your lips. “That’s it—fuck, that’s it,” he groans, tilting his head back as he watches you bounce on his lap, completely at his mercy.

His grip tightens, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise as he takes control, dragging you up only to fuck you back down onto him, using your body to chase his own pleasure. Your thighs burn, your mind going hazy with every deep, ruthless thrust.

“You’re such a fucking mess,” Anaxa rasps, voice thick with desire as he feels your walls clench around him, as he watches your eyes glaze over, lips parted, words reduced to broken whimpers. “Dumb little thing—just a cock-drunk mess, letting me use you how I want.”

His pace turns brutal, slamming up into you with enough force to make you jolt in his grasp, a choked-out sob leaving your throat as pleasure builds, tight and unbearable. His name spills from your lips in a breathless plea, your body trembling as he yanks your head back again, forcing your gaze to meet his.

“Gonna cum again?” His smirk is sharp, knowing. “Go on, sweetheart. Cum on my cock—milk every fucking drop out of me.”

And the moment you do, he groans low in his throat, slamming you down onto him one last time, holding you there as his cock pulses, filling you up all over again. His breath is heavy, ragged, his fingers still tight in your hair as he forces your lips to his, kissing you slow and deep as his cum leaks out around him.

But even as you tremble in his hold, Anaxa doesn’t let go. Doesn’t let you move.

☆

Phainon cums with a sharp, ragged breath, his composure finally breaking as his grip on your hips tightens. He always tries to stay in control, to keep that teasing, knowing smirk on his lips—but when he’s buried deep inside you, when your body clenches around his cock just right, he falters.

His head tilts back, blue hair falling messily over his face as his hips jerk forward one last time, pressing you flush against him as he spills inside. A quiet, breathless chuckle escapes him, like he’s half-amused, half-drunk on pleasure. “Mmh… look at you,” he murmurs, voice rough as he pulls you closer, rolling his hips in slow, lazy movements to make sure you take everything. “So good for me. So—hah—fucking perfect.”

Even as his breathing evens out, Phainon doesn’t pull away. He stays pressed against you, enjoying the warmth, the way your body trembles slightly in his grasp. His fingers trace lazy circles against your skin, his lips ghosting over your temple.

“Don’t think we’re finished, sweetheart,” he purrs, amusement laced in his voice. “I need to see you fall apart for me a few more times.”

Phainon doesn’t give you a chance to recover. His hands stay firm on your waist, keeping you pressed against him as he rolls his hips, still buried deep inside you. His cock is still hard, still throbbing, and you can feel the warmth of his cum inside, slick and messy.

You whimper, legs shaking from the overstimulation, but he only chuckles, his breath warm against your skin. “Sensitive already?” His voice is soft, teasing, but there’s a sharp edge to it—the same smugness he always carries, but now tinged with hunger.

His fingers ghost over your lower back before gripping tight, keeping you exactly where he wants you. “You can take it,” he purrs, tilting his head to press a lazy kiss against your temple. “After all… you were begging for it just a moment ago.”

He thrusts up suddenly, forcing a broken moan from your lips. His smirk widens. “That’s it. Let me hear you.”

The heat inside you coils tight again, overwhelming, your mind slipping further into hazy pleasure. Phainon watches you with half-lidded eyes, drinking in every little tremble, every desperate noise.

“You’re such a mess,” he hums, dragging his lips along your jaw, his voice a low murmur. “All fucked-out and pretty for me. Think you can last a little longer, sweetheart?”

His grip tightens, and he smirks against your skin. “Let’s find out.”

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[ariichive]

ESCAPE -ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-

did you really believe it would be that easy to slip away?

cw: gender neutral, yandere, manipulation, wars, violence, possessive behavior, delusional behavior, reader tries to jump in the dreamscape, suggestive, anaxa uses a ball gag :,) 3.1 spoilers in mydei's

sunday `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

something wasn’t right. the extreme sense of deja vu was sickening and it felt as if eyes were on you at all times. the dreamscape was supposed to be a place of comfort and warmth, but all you felt now was anxiety.

of course, your dreams weren’t always like this. the planet of festivities was a guilty pleasure, admittedly. the vast opportunities of the dreamscape was hard to past on.

but now, you needed to wake up.

it didn’t help that there was no one else in your dream, no one but the head of the oak family.

“i think you look most beautiful like this, no? for my eyes only.”

you could hear his voice, but you couldn’t see him.

no matter what corner you turned, no matter what stairs you went up, it was all the same.

why couldn’t you wake up?

“see how you’re living in repeat? how everything is dreading on, nothing new in your dull life?”

you stopped your running, a pounding headache coming on. “g-get out of my head!” it was so frustrating, hearing the same thing over and over.

“i’m not in your head my dear.” there was a sharp intake of silence before you felt a breath on your ear.

“i’m here with you.”

turning around, there was no one there. faintly, you could hear the gentle sound of his laughter, on increasing your headache.

tired of the constant annoyance that was sunday, you decided to take matters into your own hands.

finding the nearest building, one that was high enough, you were quick to ascend its stairs. eventually, you found yourself on the edge of a roof.

“what do you think you’re doing?”

there was a hint of worry in his voice concealed by anger, one you would’ve missed if you hadn’t known sunday for the time you have.

“if you’re not going to let me out, i have to do it on my own.”

his former amusement was no longer present. "you think that's the way out?"

you didn't answer. the wind howled around you, tugging at your clothes, tempting you forward.

"you're being dramatic."

"and you're being insufferable," you snapped, gripping your arms. the weight of his unseen presence bore down on you, making it hard to breathe. "let me wake up."

a pause. then, softly, "i can't."

your stomach dropped faster than you were about to. "what do you mean you can't?"

"i mean exactly that." his voice was closer now, nearly right beside you. "this isn't just a dream anymore."

"i mean exactly that." his voice was closer now, nearly right beside you. "this isn't just a dream anymore."

the world tilted. no, that wasn't right—the dreamscape itself twisted, colors bleeding into each other, buildings warping, the sky cracking like shattered glass.

"what did you do?" you whispered, taking a shaky step back.

a hand, unseen yet unmistakably there, pressed against the small of your back, keeping you from retreating further. sunday's voice curled into your ear, almost tender.

"i simply made sure you'd stay."

your breath hitched. the weight of his words settled over you like a heavy fog, thick and suffocating. "stay?" the word barely left your lips, a fragile whisper against the growing distortion of the dreamscape.

"mm," sunday hummed, the warmth of his unseen touch lingering, a stark contrast to the cold panic flooding your veins. "isn’t that what you wanted? a place where you could escape, where no one could reach you?"

you shook your head, gripping your temples as the headache intensified. "not like this. never like this."

without hesitating any further, you took a step off the roof.

the wind howled in your ears, your stomach lurching as the world blurred around you. the descent was faster than you expected, the colors of the dreamscape smearing together, twisting, unraveling. but the impact never came.

instead, you stopped.

suspended. weightless. trapped.

a pair of arms, unseen yet unmistakably present, wrapped around you from behind, halting your fall as effortlessly as if you had never moved at all. a familiar chuckle ghosted against your ear, low and amused.

"you really thought i'd let you go that easily?" sunday’s voice was steady, but there was something else underneath—something strained.

you thrashed against the hold, but it was useless. the dreamscape rippled around you like a living thing, reshaping itself at his will. the city, the rooftops, the endless stairs—gone. in their place, an expanse of nothingness stretched in all directions, endless and suffocating.

"let me go," you gritted out.

"where would you even go?" sunday murmured, tightening his hold. "there's nowhere else to run, my dear."

the weight of his words settled deep into your bones. this wasn’t just control—this was possession.

"wake me up!" you screamed, twisting in his grasp, trying to break free.

sunday sighed, and for the first time, you swore you could hear something like regret in his voice.

"i told you already," he murmured. "this isn’t a dream anymore. this is your reality.”

anaxa `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

“i must say, we get a long much better when you don’t interrupt me.”

anaxa was an asshole.

that was the only thing you could think as you couldn’t get any words out due to the ball gag currently strapped to your face.

“wouldn’t you agree, [name]?”

his voice was smooth, laced with that ever-present condescension, as if he were merely discussing philosophy over tea rather than reveling in your current predicament. his golden eyes gleamed with amusement, watching you struggle with something between fascination and boredom.

"ah, but i suppose you can't," he continued, tilting his head ever so slightly. "a shame, really. i do enjoy our little debates. but lately, you've been so very insistent on talking back, especially on matters you know nothing about.”

he leaned in, fingers ghosting over your cheek, his touch featherlight but deliberate. "and we simply can't have that, now can we?"

his smile was sharp, predatory. "good conversation requires patience, listening, knowing when to hold one's tongue." he chuckled, tapping a finger against the gag. "though in your case, i had to take matters into my own hands. don't take it personally."

he used one hand to tightly grip your chin, forcing you to look up at him. his finger that was still on the gag pushed it deeper down your throat.

he sighed, “astounding that you were trying to leave me. now look at you, pathetic.”

anaxa’s irritation and anger was clear in his voice.

“you’re lucky i’m patient with you, the gag and restraints should make me seem like a saint.”

he gently tapped the hilt of his gun.

this whole situation was taken out of proportion. you simply wanted to go visit okhema, see people outside of the grove. of course, anaxa didn’t like that.

“you really think the world outside our little haven holds something better for you?” he drawled, his tone laced with contempt. “okhema isn’t some paradise you can just wander into. it’s a chaotic place where nothing is as controlled, as perfect, as we have it here.”

he seemed to take mercy on you as he undid the strap of the gag, taking it out of your mouth delicately.

“you may speak now.”

you almost didn’t want to out of pure spite. “you can’t keep me here forever, it’s inhumane.”

he laughed at that, “what scholar do you know that’s even remotely close to being humane?”

“none because you don’t let me speak to any one else!”

“good answer.” he sent you an approving smile.

he went to undo your restraints, knowing that you won’t try to fight him any more than you already have.

his fingers traced over the red indentations left by the restraints, a slow, deliberate motion that felt more like admiration than remorse. "tch," he clicked his tongue, shaking his head. "see what you've done to yourself? all this struggling, all this nonsense about leaving, and for what?"

his gaze flicked back up to yours, sharp, assessing. "okhema won’t embrace you like i do. it won’t be kind to you. it won’t understand you." his voice dipped lower, softer, as if he were confiding in you rather than reinforcing his dominance. "but you already know that, don’t you?"

he let go of your wrist, allowing your hand to fall limply into your lap. the relief of movement was fleeting; your body ached, stiff from the restraints, throat dry from the gag. but he watched you expectantly, waiting, reveling in the sight of you thinking carefully before you spoke.

good. he'd taught you something, at least.

"i don’t belong to you," you murmured, voice hoarse but steady.

anaxa stilled. then, in a slow, calculated movement, he leaned in, his breath ghosting over your cheek. "no," he murmured, his gloved fingers curling beneath your chin once more, tilting your face upward. "but you don’t belong to them either."

his lips quirked into something almost affectionate, almost. "and that, my dear, is the difference between us. you keep chasing something that doesn’t exist. i, on the other hand"—his grip tightened ever so slightly—"know exactly what’s mine."

mydei `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

it's been too quiet in the fallen kingdom of castrum kremnos.

mydei's decision to fight off the black tide creatures and strife was to come with unrelenting battles and no time for rest. which it has, but the black tide never ceased. it never tired, never strategized. it was relentless in its hunger, mindless in its destruction. so why had it stopped?

his sculpted body lifted from his throne; if it didn't come to him, he'd just have to find it. he focused his attention on his surroundings, listening to anything that could give a clue.

in the distance, there was a faint sound of screaming and footsteps.

someone else was here?

mydei wasted no time to rush to the sounds.

the air was thick with the scent of old blood and decay, yet something new lurked beneath it—an unfamiliar presence, something that did not belong to the black tide.

rounding a shattered archway, mydei caught sight of movement ahead. a figure darted through the crumbling streets, their breath ragged, their cloak tattered from what must have been a long, desperate flight. behind them, the shadows twisted, writhing unnaturally, as if something unseen slithered just beyond his sight.

he was quick to make eye contact with the person, who looked more shocked than him to see another person.

they were too focused on you rather than mydei, which made defeating them rather easy and efficient.

you collapsed as mydei finished off the remaining monsters, tired from the constant running and trying to catch your breath.

"you look like you've never run a day in your life," he remarked, stepping closer.

before you could fire back, he reached out, grasping your wrist and hoisting you up without waiting for permission. your legs wobbled beneath you, exhaustion threatening to pull you down again, but mydei kept you steady.

"who are you? what kind of fool willingly comes here?" he asked, golden eyes studying you with the same sharpness he reserved for threats.

you gritted your teeth, trying to shake off the dizziness that had settled in your head. the last thing you needed was to seem weak in front of this insufferable man, but the endless running had worn you down to the bone. still, you managed to meet his gaze, your voice rough but steady.

"i'm from a distant town in amphoreus. i came to conduct research on my paper... i just didn't think it would be this bad."

mydei scoffed, the corner of his mouth twitching upward in something that wasn’t quite a smile. “research,” he echoed, as if the word itself was a joke. “you risked your life for research?”

his grip loosened, and you stumbled slightly but caught yourself. your body ached, but your pride refused to let you falter.

“i didn’t think i’d be running for my life the second i arrived,” you muttered, brushing dust from your tattered clothes. “the black tide’s aggression was… beyond what the records described.”

“of course it was,” mydei said flatly. “any book written about castrum kremnos is outdated the moment it’s finished. this place is a graveyard that keeps changing its shape.”

"you seem to know a lot about this place. who exactly are you?" now, it was your turn to do the questioning.

mydei tilted his head slightly, amusement flickering behind his golden eyes. "you're bold for someone who was just gasping for breath on the ground."

you crossed your arms, ignoring the lingering ache in your limbs. "and you're avoiding the question."

he let out a quiet chuckle, though there was no warmth in it. "fine," he said, stepping back just enough to put a measured distance between you. "mydeimos. i’ve been fighting the black tide longer than you’ve been writing that little paper of yours."

his eyes flicked toward the ruined horizon, scanning the shifting shadows with the ease of someone who knew this battlefield all too well. “this kingdom—what’s left of it—was mine once.”

your breath hitched. his?

the two of you began to learn more about each other as he brought you back to his throne. it was an unexpected friendship(?) but you were gaining many useful facts for your paper.

the history of this place goes further back than you could imagine.

you even learned more about the famous chrysos heirs you heard about in passing. you eagerly had him tell all his stories about them, making sure not to miss a detail.

it went on like this for a few days; he would fight off the black tide and answer your many questions.

there was a shift, though, when he came back from a battle to you packing your notes.

mydei paused in the doorway, his eyes narrowing as he watched you gather your things. the usual calm demeanor he carried in battle seemed absent now, replaced with something colder, more intense.

"you're leaving," he said flatly, his voice carrying a trace of something you couldn’t quite place—was it annoyance?

you froze, your hands stilling mid-motion as you turned to face him. "i—" you started, but the words felt tangled in your throat.

"i’m almost finished with my research," you admitted, avoiding his gaze as you zipped up your bag. "i can’t stay here forever, especially with the black tide still lingering."

truthfully, mydei had grown quite attached to you. he hasn't had contact with another person for weeks before you came along; and for you to just leave so quickly?

no, he couldn't have that.

he muttered, almost to himself, his voice lowering as he looked away, briefly losing his composure. “no one... no one’s cared to come this far. you...” he paused, and when his eyes met yours again, they were heavy with something you hadn’t expected. “you’re not leaving.”

you took a step back, your breath shaky as mydei’s intense stare bore into you.

“mydei—” you started, but the words faltered on your lips. you wanted to argue, to tell him that you had your own life to get back to, your own reasons for leaving. but the weight of his presence—his intensity—made you hesitate.

he stepped forward, his hand snaking out to grab your wrist with an iron grip, pulling you closer to him in a way that left no room for resistance. "you're not walking out on me," he said, his voice low, almost a growl.

“you came into my life at the worst possible time,” he said, his voice softer, yet thick with something you couldn’t quite name. "you walked into this kingdom, into my mess, and for a second, it felt like... like maybe i wasn’t as alone as i thought."

you realized the black tide was already getting to him, just not in the way it would most.

phainon `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹

"you look absolutely gorgeous in the sun. though, i wonder, must you enjoy it without me?"

this was your third day walking out from phainon's grasp.

"why do you insist on following me?" you asked, keeping your voice steady as you continued walking, pretending as though his words hadn’t made your heart skip a beat.

you felt the weight of his gaze, the way it traced every curve of your form, making your skin tingle, making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t wanted.

phainon chuckled, the sound low and dark, a perfect match for the man he was. "follow you? darling, you belong to me. whether you like it or not."

he caught up with you quickly, his long strides making up for the distance you’d put between you. before you knew it, he was beside you, his presence as commanding as the sun itself.

"you think you can leave me so easily?" his voice was a whisper, just enough to make the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. you could feel his eyes on you, even though you refused to meet his gaze.

when you didn't answer, he took it as his sign to continue. "i do enjoy your confidence. you're just so perfect. you must like the chase as much as i. is that what it is, [name]?"

phainon placed a hand over his heart as he felt his face flush.

you felt a flicker of anger surge through you, though it quickly turned to frustration. "this isn't a game," you said, trying to bite back the heat in your voice. "you don’t get to decide what i do, phainon."

phainon’s hand placed itself over his chest again, but this time, it wasn’t just for show. his fingers curled against the fabric, almost as though he was holding back something deeper. "i feel it every time you try to leave me. every step you take away from me."

his voice dropped, smooth and low, like a promise or a threat. "and the more you try to run, the more I want to keep you close."

"you're insane." you couldn't hold back the venom in your voice.

"i'd like to think of it more as being in love." phainon's hand gently took yours, holding you in place.

he kneeled in front of you, bringing your hand to his lips.

his lips lingered on your skin, tracing along the tips of your fingers, sending a shiver through you that you couldn’t ignore. "so go ahead," he whispered, leaning in close, his breath brushing against your hand. "run again. i’ll let you. but just know... i’ll find you."

phainon rose to his feet, still holding your hand gently but firmly, his grip a reminder of the inescapable pull that seemed to draw you to him. "you don't have to make this harder than it needs to be," he murmured, the teasing edge gone from his tone, replaced by something more serious. "i just want you to understand... i will never let you go."

phainon was quick to shift his personality back to easygoing. "you've been out here long enough; care to join me for a bath?"

you knew there was no changing his mind. "...could we get something to eat after?"

phainon’s smile widened, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes as if he had already won some unspoken victory. "of course," he said smoothly. "i can even bathe and feed you. you must be tired after such a long day."

the familiar blush crept up his face, one he didn't care to hide. just the thought of being able to touch your body and be that close to your lips was exhilarating.

i loved writing mydei's, i might have to make another scenario with it 🤔🤔

[riyangiis]

anaxagoras shuts you up by kissing you.

he would often walk away or just blatantly tell another idiot spitting out nonsense to shut up, but his lover is a different case.

he loves your voice, he admits. even before your relationship he would often stare at your lips as you tell him about your day, getting lost in the thought of holding you softly and kissing you.

he would still listen to everything you would say to him, even if it's something like castorice joining an arm wrestling competition and mydei being her opponent.

anaxa kisses you in the middle of your scolding whenever you get angry at him for forgetting to take care of himself because of his work, he knows it helps you calm down.

he listens to your advice though, he wouldn't want to put a frown on his own lover's face. but he wouldn't admit that sometimes, he forgets to take care of himself or overwork on purpose to have an excuse to kiss you again.

you notice his behavior, he isn't the type to forget what you told him, especially when it's important, and it infuriates you. being the caring lover you are, you thought of an idea that would make him stop.

one night, you walked in his office without knocking and told him something that would absolutely change his entire behavior.

"if you take care of yourself properly, i'll let you have all the kisses you want the entire night. if you don't and overwork yourself, no kisses or no hugs for the entire day."

anaxa stares at you with widened eyes, surprised that you noticed, ironically with unfinished work and unchecked assignments in front of him sitting on his desk.

he opens his mouth to say something back, but then relaxes noticing the worried look on your face, also remembering the reward of finishing his work right now. he currently doesn't want to see the idiocy of his students when he has a whole night to shower his lover with affection waiting for him.

"is that so? then shall we start now?" anaxa asks.

from that day on, he never overworked himself again.

[raindailies]

❝ — SOLDIER, POET, KING. ❞

𓏵 ( societal conformations shan't hearken to your voice, my dearest. )

८ sypnosis. FANATASY / ROYAL AU - societal roles are placed, words whisper. Soldiers wield a sword, heavy alighting for their own conscience - poets wield a tongue sharp enough to pierce the deepest of consonants, and kings wield a crown, barking the orders of ones' commandments, ruling with jovial. But to you, who observes, these roles appear much darker than appealed by the town's constant rumors.

(phainon, anaxa, and mydei x gn!reader separately) - wc: ~3.9k

@ warnings; nothing really , exploring character tropes and personalities through poetry and literary composition, ALL fluff !! Some darker connotations in Phainon's and small canon - typical violence ᝰ.ᐟ

── notes. based off of the song 'soldier, poet, king' obv, i had an awakening of this idea on the bus while watching a tiktok and after a multitude of procrastination and Macbeth essays I deliver this !! This is probably my favorite work yet, meanings & symbolism will be explained at the end (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧ !

ᝰ.ᐟ PHAINON — there will come a soldier, who carries a might sword, he will tear your city down.

⟡ Phainon is a captain of the royal guards, a knight, he proposed his title to you with a sheepish grin. You did little to refute him, smiling in turn as his hand rested on the hilt of his sword, sheathed on his waist as he chatted your ear off in the town’s center.

⟡ But the sword he carries is far too heavy for his own conscience to maneuver, it’s thick with the blood, smeared with a discordant amalgamate of ichor, the iron taints at his hands as Phainon can only look down at it with tired eyes, his shoulders slacked, the sword, mighty – tall, but tainted, once again, he pivoted his gaze away, sure he was going to get sick, had he stared at the blood any longer.

⟡ Phainon could only bear one thing ascertained, he almost feels his knees buckle under him despite nothing pulling his soul down, his shoulders slacked – but he does not waver, no. Not ever. Not when he has the world on his shoulders. Makes him chuckle breathlessly, and humorlessly. Bitter.

⟡ Was it the world that was heavy on his shoulder, or the people’s hearts that was? 

⟡ He will bear it in tow. Phainon doesn’t question what – how, he knows he will endure his duties of his own gains, but – he couldn’t help but wonder, really, why is it him that endures? The soldier that has the sword tightly gripped around the rough calloused coil of the cleave of his hand, the very same hand that held you so tenderly that he wished he hadn’t done it at all.

⟡ Right – you. The soft you, the naive you, the innocent you that wanted so desperately to help him as you stared at his drained eyes, your hand gently holding his. He paused, as if turning behind to gaze at the world on his shoulders, his shaking knees and eyes with tire prevalence, and he only shook his head. Phainon places a hand on your shoulder, a smile returns to his face as he tells you to ‘not worry’, he is fine, though even he does not believe his own words.

⟡ But gods, he wanted so hopelessly to cry into the crook of your neck. About the wretched sound that he so abhorred when his sword met the flesh of his enemies. It’s necessary. He rationalized, though it did little to ease his guilt. He wanted to cry about the innocents that he could’ve saved had he come a little faster – if he had been better, if his iron infused tainted sword had swung at the head of the enemy at a briskier speed.

⟡ Maybe then, their families’ dining table wouldn’t bear an empty chair. Maybe then, he’d sleep easier at night.

⟡ Phainon realizes that he cannot confide in you with this. He drags his palm across his face at night when you’re sleeping soundly beside him – your face peaceful in the night light as a streak of moonlight caressed your fond skin, the tender brush of gleam made him smile, forget the sword he carried, the world he bared, even for just a second. 

⟡ After all, you were just a citizen, you’re not a hero, and he wishes to keep it that way. Phainon isn’t sure if he could handle it had he not been able to wake up without you on his side, without the warmth of your body embellishing into the bedsheets. 

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ Phainon first met you when you were hunched over the pillar, hair tousled, clothes rugged with dried blood clinging onto your chiton, your face heavy – he saved you, as any hero would’ve, but you felt – different, from the others he saved the same day, was it the look in your eyes? He hadn’t known, but he soon found himself clinging to you when you were oh so adamant on repaying him back as a favor for saving you, you’d repeatedly bombard him with fruits, flowers, Phainon would say he tried to get you to stop, but that would be lying – because he didn’t. He loved your attention, even if your gifts began to pile up, he’d stash them onto his desk with a giddy smile as your visits became more frequent, and he began to seek you out more. 

⟡ Phainon is a soldier. A hero – the divinity that courses through the very embed of his soul is but one he cannot deny, he hears the people’s praises, the children’s hopes, the ballads – he hears it all. Phainon only sheepishly grins, rubbing his neck, waving his hand around with a weak rebuttal, claiming that they are ‘flattering him’, but in that moment, he meets eyes with the relatives of the people he couldn’t save, and Phainon could do little to attenuate the guilt he beheld.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ Phainon is really like your knight in shining armor – a soldier befitting the title of protector or hero. The titankin appeared to just get faster, if that was even possible, one name hurriedly slipped from your lips, and before you knew it, a firm hand was on your waste, his white hair tousled against the wind as his sword did quick work on the titankin, reducing it to a matter of dust, he looks at you. 

⟡ “You came.” You looked up to the white-haired male, your breaths heaving.

⟡ Phainon looked at you like you just said the most ridiculous thing, “You called.” He replied, his words betraying nothing of his expression. 

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ He stares at you like he is looking at the sun. He could not help it – he knows, as his role, he shouldn’t get close to you – Phainon knows it well, and he knows it even more when he holds you in his arms, even with the blood tainted, you only nudge closer to him, and all he can feel is uneasiness at your comfortable form against his tense one. But god forbid, even if you were the sun, capable of burning him, he’d adamant on gladly becoming Icarus*, he’d – without reluctance – fly towards the sun if it meant he could spare even a look at you. 

⟡ Phainon would laugh if he fell from your arms, his heart wild in its systolic beats, because even fleeting – he saw you. Profusely, that was enough for him. He wasn’t a soldier when he held you in his arms, he didn’t hold a sword that carried lives, he didn’t carry the world upon his shoulders, no – he was him. He was Phainon. 

⟡ “Phainon, are you okay? You’re spacing out.” His name slipped out of your mouth in tenderness, a slight elicited from his lips as he focused his gaze on you, the sun hitting your face in bliss, your slightly furrowed brow worried over him, he couldn’t help but smile. 

⟡ “I couldn’t be better.” Phainon gazes at you. 

⟡ So screw it, if he had to shoulder the world’s burdens, if he was to be bloodied and injured for the nth time, his wants, his needs be damned – by Mnestia’s soft glimmer betrothed upon his ruptured stature, for you, Phainon would do everything a thousands time over – if the sun refused to kiss the planet that is Amphoreus, he wouldn’t care if you were still there, laughing carelessly as you held his face in your soft hands. 

⟡ No. He thinks, the corner of his eyes crinkling as he stares at you, your soft lips, parted as you hopelessly talk about another book you just read, and he can’t help the upturn in his own lips. No matter, I will protect you. Phainon never regrets you, how could he regret being kissed by the sun itself, after all?

ᝰ.ᐟ ANAXA — there will come a poet, whose weapon is his word, he will slay you with his tongue.

⟡ Anaxa is only a poet who writes as if he was running out of time, and by granted, he has been sending you wishful letters that by Mnestia’s warm embrace had shrouded you like no other, you hadn’t known words alone could be this impactful, surely.

⟡ Every word is an art, every word carries that of meaning. Anaxa is the personification of the words that shape the very being of expression – when actions cannot convey enough, it is only words that bring forth the tension that underlies in one’s fingertips.

⟡ A poet is free, a poet rarely holds his tongue in his mouth, letting it free as it wishes once a time. Sing – O muse, of the ballads that which you hold for thine dearest of melody, Anaxa – never runs out of words, no. He would never, could never. His mind runs in a state that his body cannot follow, the truth is existential to his very being. His words are a testament to his very soul, he is the truth, after all. When comes down, his most powerful weapon is not of his gun, but rather his words, the truth can be biting, and he is the very epitome of truth. 

⟡ But his words never hit quite like weapons do to you - rather, they’re ballads of a far-away humming choir, the birds seemed to chirp at his every word, as he laid his heart bare, his voice a melody that evoked even the simplest of action to be the largest.

⟡ And Anaxa, despite the words he may sing, is afraid that the faith he has is no longer, it hasn’t been in him, he is not enough, for his words are but one declared in a quiet whisper, how could he make his truth be loud? He thinks, and he never quite found the answer. The soldiers are strong - they command and bark their words with ease, the king never quite runs out of attention nor orders to spare, and yet he, just one of a poet whose words are his only access, is not one with value.

⟡ But you, oh he’ll sing just about any word to you. He’d sit by you under the moonlight ranting about the philosophical understanding that, everything is everything, the world is a paradox - everything is composed of something infinitely smaller (and you are made with each part of him that he tore down piece to piece to embed in you.)

⟡ He turns to you, his eyes half expecting you to wander your gaze where else, disinterested - but you only stare back at him, your eyes sparkling an endless notion of astral charts against the soft gleam of the moon, as you urged him to continue, perhaps that was when he fell.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ He doesn’t tell you this, but he couldn’t help but to sit down at his desk, quill in his hands as he addressed poems to you, the ink running along the lines as his words slur with the thoughts of you, because it has always been you. 

⟡ “Had I been able to press you upon the ground, and woven the simplest of love onto our mouths– too cliche.” He scoffs, scrunching the silk of paper up and throwing it elsewhere, placing a new one as he hunches over the desk. It had been late into the night, the sun almost akin to rise but Anaxa could care less, he started a new poem.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ Anaxa watches as you dip your hands into the river, he sits near, tucked under the shade of the tree, you called out to him with the softest glimmer of tone that was far sweeter than the strum of any lyre as the water splashed around you.

⟡ You maneuver the cool sensation of the water to splash into Anaxa’s direction as you turn to him, a smile adorned your face, your eyes squinted in the corners – heavenly. You looked absolutely heavenly, Anaxa decided.

⟡ “Anaxa! Come on, join me!” You smiled blissfully, the sun kissing your cheeks as you scoop a handful of water from the river in the cleaves of your hand, and he could not help but feel jealous of the sun that could kiss you so adoringly.

⟡ “I’m–” He hesitated, for a moment, considered joining you, to gaze at you up close, but he only stopped his words, “I’m good here, don’t get too soaked.” He decided to say, because had he joined you, he’d miss the euphoric trance of seeing you hold his heart in your palms from afar. 

⟡ Anaxa found that he preferred to sit back and stared at you. It was enough to watch you hand stride the woods, a smile appeasing as you lightly twirl a flower in your hand. It was enough to watch as you pointed to the skies, showing off your astrology skills, if you were wrong, he could care less. Hell, he would rewrite history to make whatever you said right. You were enough, far than enough.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ An old poet used to tell him, “love is born into every human being; it calls back the halves of our original nature together; it tries to make one out of two and heal the wound of human nature. Each of us, then, is a 'matching half' of a human whole…and each of us is always seeking the half that matches him, Anaxa, you must remember to find the half of your soul.”

⟡ Anaxa only raised his eyebrow in question, his mouth a frown. “Why must we? Surely one can function with their soul only, what need is there?”

⟡ The poet smiled, then lightly ruffled the young boy’s head, “Maybe so, but you have to see that love for yourself. You’ll know it when your eyes meet, because your soul has always been meant to orbit the other. It is Eros that brings you together.”

⟡ “Eros?”

⟡ “The purest.”

⟡ Anaxa only understood the poet’s words clearly when his eyes locked with yours for the first time – it hadn’t been anything different, that day. He lounged near the town’s busy center, the crowd bustled towards him and something–someone, bumped into his chest.

⟡ He looked down, you looked up–and Anaxa stared at you as if he had known you his whole life.

⟡ Because he has. He hadn’t known you physically, hadn’t known you through his eyes, but his soul has long known you as you touched for the first time, your souls embracing the other like a light finding the other in the vast darkness of the world. 

⟡ It wasn’t love at first sight–it was a knowing feeling, like he had held you countless times before, like he had murmured your name in a soft eliciting tone as he tugged you closer to him, the world forgotten. Your mouth parted, an attempt of words.

⟡ “I’m so sorry–!” You had muttered to him, he looked at you, and through touch alone, he knew you.

ᝰ.ᐟ MYDEI — there will come a ruler, whose brow is laid in thorn, smeared with oil like david’s boy.

⟡ Mydei is a ruler, he has always been destined to be one, since birth, the servants lightly smeared him with Pomegranate juice across the flesh of his forehead, their voices a cheerful radiance as his mother held him into her arms, the ceiling, embellished with gold and trinkets alike came to his vision. 

⟡ Mydei was a prince.

⟡ His throne has long been laid in thorn, embedded into the fuse of his blood as his mother combed her hands through his hair with a hum, she smiles. The shackles had long amalgamated with the wrists of his calloused hands, for the heir was just a boy whose destiny was tethered too soon.

⟡ “You are a crowned prince,” his mother murmured, a soft sound beneath the breeze of the opened window, his blonde hair sat a tangled mess in his mother’s fingers “but before that, you are my Mydei. Be it as you want to, but let that be enough.”

⟡ He had wondered what his mother meant, then. Obviously, he was Mydeimos – or Mydei, as his mother preferred to call him*. Why would he be anything other than himself? It’s only when he saw the people, whose words are disgustingly sweet as their mouths stretch a grotesque amount upwards, forcing their laughter at any word that came out of his mouth, hoping to get his favor that he realizes – they don’t see him for Mydei, no, to them, he is only the king.

⟡ Mydei doesn’t realize when he lived his life in a constant blur of advocacies in mindless matter – archery course, music course, martial arts course, sword fighting course, meetings where the blonde male is seated in the center, despite himself being 10 – knowing little of the political advances, military and financial magistracies. 

⟡ He does not wish for this life, he quickly realizes, when he sees other boys his age fighting, laughing as their wooden swords clang against one another's and they run around with glee – he realizes that he much prefers to live like that, free.

⟡ His life as a crowned heir to the throne was as mundane as anything could possibly be, the occasion where his mother sang him lullabies to bed was his favorite, “Your hands are so strong, Mydei.” Gorgo smiles, her son’s smaller, yet calloused hand grasped around hers, “I’ve got such a strong boy, hm? Tell you what, ma thinks your hands have carried far too much already. I'll wish for a day where these strong hands are used for love.” 

⟡ Or, when his father escorting him into town, greeted by the nice old ladies and their baskets full of assortments in desserts, he couldn’t help but offer payment for some, but his father quickly pulled him back, a stern voice followed; 

⟡ “Mydeimos. It is unbecoming to the royal bloodline for you to convulse in such intricacies.”, and he could only nod in turn, the face of his father left little room for arguments.

⟡ “Yes, father.” Were the only words he uttered as of late.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ When he met you – it was by pure coincidence, the male found himself wandering the later nights – away from his duties, away from a crowned heir’s place. He snuck out of the palace under Krateros’ nose, as his blonde-haired were snuffed out by a black cloak he allocated softly over his figure.

⟡ The skies – the trees – the townspeople laughing around, Mydei felt free, for the first time, he felt as if no royal restraint could tie him down, not anymore. As the soles of his feet danced around akin to the freedom of a bird, his eyes fled over an abnormal crowd peering around a stage, his curiosity quipped.

⟡ The hair stood on his neck as he watched a bard sing a melody so pure it resonated the very essence of him – he looked to the performer, and he found a kid not far from his age. Your hair fell in a pleasing manner, your fingers softly strumming the lyres, a smile on your face, and Mydei found that he could not look away. 

⟡ Your music was free – a chorus that followed no patterns in set, a harmony that hadn't been allocated to other matters, it was a diction crafted by your intricate of hands, it was a language fettered by little.

⟡ Of the music that your fingers had strung, the soft singing tune that left the plush of your lips, though delicate and grazed him – could not compare to your face, he stared, forgetting about his duties for a second. When he looked at you then, he was just a curious boy. 

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ “What are you playing for?” The male’s voice staggered beneath the moonlight hue, your body, hunched over as you delicately strung the lyre effortlessly, the very melody attuning to the soft whispers of nature around you two. 

⟡ You hummed, glancing behind your shoulder with a smile, “Do I need a reason?” 

⟡ His eyebrow raised in skepticism, but he only sat down next to you, a knee propped up, “People usually do.”

⟡ “Maybe,” you turned to him, Mydei tried (he swore he did) to avert your gaze, but he could not pull away, it seemed, “But you seeked me after my performance to ask that, crowned prince?”

⟡ “How did you–”

⟡ You laughed, a soft reverberating sound in the stillness of the night, “I won’t tell, promise.” a smile grazed your face, as if you knew him already. He stilled, as well – perhaps stiller than the night, too.

⟡ “What’s it like?” He breathed, forcing himself to look up at the starlit sky, “Being free like that, I mean.”

⟡ “It’s nice,” You hummed, again, looking at the stars as well. You recognized one to be Andromeda*. “You should try it too, prince. Humans were not made to be chained to a place.”

⟡ The prince offered you no response other than silence, your lyre still rested in your hands, a quiet strum between the soundless night. “.. perhaps I should.” 

⟡ “(name). I hope I can write songs in your favor, prince.”

⟡ “(name).” He repeated, your name rolled off his tongue with a soft rasp of tone, his voice softer for a supposed prince, “..  Mydei, just call me that.” 

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ You were right, it appeared. Mydei was better free – so much better, and especially around you. Without fault, the male would don a black cloak over his head each night to watch your performances, afterwards, sit in the starry patch of grass as you two allocated each starry constellations – it went on for months, it was a surprise he hadn’t gotten caught, you thought.

⟡ You were honest, refreshingly so. You were keen towards the people you disliked, but Mydei found your honesty an embrace he hadn’t known he missed. You didn’t look at him with forced affinity or wretch a grotesque smile for his pleasure, no – you did things as you wished. You didn’t feel the need to ‘warm up’ to him, didn’t appease him because he was the prince. You were the one free thing in his life.

⟡ The throne that awaited his seat seemed so ever far off when he was near you, the heavy crown wasn’t weighing on his head. Nothing was – just you, and the light strums of the lyre from your moon-adorned face, lit by the accentuated smile of the youthful moon that nurtured you in her palms.*

⟡ The two of you talked about this, and this and this – it felt natural as the words flew out of your mouth, and his reply as quick. Sometimes, you'd race, or pry Mydei to play the lyre (often to no avail, but it was terribly fun seeing him try), he'd press the wooden sword into your palms before taken an offensive stance with his own, the two of you laughed, brightly – where only the moon could gaze, tumbling down to the grass as the wooden swords were long forgotten, your lyre lying far away, for once.

⟡ You felt like gods on top of the highest hills.

⚡︎ ───────────

⟡ In a reluctant fleet, Mydei opened the door to his mother's room, suspecting his father was away, his palms lightly grazed the door open with a sheepish expression.

⟡ “Ma.”

⟡ Gorgo smiles, beckoning her son in, and sat by the edge of the bed. "Mydei?"

⟡ "Ma.. I think I like someone." A boyish smile was appeased on his face, the queen was taken aback, not expecting her son to be so upfront – she grins.

⟡ "And?"

⟡ Mydei looked away, a small tint of pink on his face as his lips pursed together the words that buried beneath him, "I want them."

⟡ The queen neared her son, a smile, soft – unjudging from her face, she takes his blonde tresses onto her fingers, threading the soft hair as she did when he was a kid, “Won’t you introduce me, Mydei?”

⟡ A hesitancy crept up, but the prince swallowed it, turning to his mom. He nodded. 

⟡ “(name),” His eyes peered into hers, betraying little of his inner turmoil. "I like (name)."

⟡ His mom smiles, “And who’re they to you?”

⟡ He absentmindedly turned to the opened window, the constellations that the two of you had memorized together in his eyes – the constellation of Perseus and Andromeda* stared back.

⟡ Quietly, he continued – “Philtatos.” φίλτατος – Most beloved.

⟡ Gorgo hums in approval, continuing to tread the kindly fingers through his blonde locks. Thus, disregarding her initial intention of telling him that she had witnessed him and you a few days ago, but dared not to interrupt.

© 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 - all rights reserved. please do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or share my work on other platforms in any way, shape, or form without my permission. if found, you WILL be blocked.

NOTES:

- Phainon's allusion to Icarus is because Icarus is the boy who flew too close to the sun in the adrenaline of hubris when he adorned waxed wings, his longing for the sky became Icarus' downfall - I said 'kissed by the sun' because in some myths, people proposed that the sun (apollo, though the embodiment is helios) was in love with Icarus when he saw him flying so free. - Anaxa's poem was an allusion to Sappho's poem, a woman poet in the island of Lesbos, the tenth muse. Please check out her works, they are WONDERFUL !! - The old poet in Anaxa's is actually Plato LOL the quote is from his book 'the symposium', where his ideology is that humans were originally 4 legged and 2 headed - where zeus, fearing of their power, divided them into two and sentenced them to looking for the other half for lifetimes, hence the term soulmates - Anaxa's philosophy of 'everything is everything but infinitely smaller' is actually the real greek philosopher - Anaxagoras' philosophy ! - Eros is the greek god of love, similarly, 'eros' expresses the romantic love. He is not the purest but he is the most romantic of love - I wanted to believe Mydei's mother called him Mydei in preference to Mydeimos (in contrary to the game) because 'deimos' meant fear/terror in greek, I don't believe Gorgo wanted to see her son as the embodiment of fear, so 'Mydei' would be a better, gentler alternative, while Eurypon called him Mydeimos still. - The constellation Andromeda is a reference to a greek princess chained to a rock as a sacrifice before Perseus saved her, which is why I followed the dialogue with "Humans were not made to be chained to a place" - the 'youthful moon that nurtured you in her palms' is a reference to the goddess Artemis, who's depicted with the moon (though selene is the embodiment), and a guardian of maidens/young girls. - The constellation 'Perseus' and 'Andromeda' together presented love - the two stars often appearing together side by side. - Philtatos is a small reference to the song of Achilles, it is a word to symbolize the most dearest of love, meaning 'dearest' or 'most beloved', and while the feminine version is Philtate, this is gender neutral so I used the more known one. - SO fun to write this!! I am working on a band au for mydei next sooo keep an eye out <3

❝ oh lei, oh lai, oh lei, oh lord . ❞ 

[yandere-romanticaa]

"By the stars, how foolish can one person be?"

His voice was quiet as night but dark as sin, his grip on your wrist tighter than any chain made by mortal hands. Fingernails dug deep inside the soft flesh but his face remained stoic as ever. The professor's pale face seemed to almost shine underneath the moonlight as his one visible eye leered down at you as if you were no better than a mere cockroach he could just squish with his little finger.

Honestly, he probably could and for the longest time that was your opinion on him.

For ages now, you had thought that Anaxagoras did not fancy you whatsoever. Whenever you would cross paths the man would do nothing other than poignantly glare in your direction, arms crossed on his chest as he would turn his gaze elsewhere whenever you'd make eye contact with him. Trying to reason with him proved to be pointless as the man would only spew absolute venom at you, but he would do it in such an elegant way that you were often left speechless at the sheer refinement of it all, as if he was writing up some twisted poetry for you. Amphoreus was known for its endless sea of romantic songs, secret love affairs and honeyed words but this was different.

This particular rose had thorns. Sharp thorns.

And it had no desire to be plucked whatsoever.

Eventually, you stopped trying. The desire to get to know the scholar had all but diminished, it was instead replaced with an inkling of dread. Simply spotting him in a crowd sent shivers down your spine, especially if he was coming straight towards you. He would always carry himself with such vigor and confidence but that would all melt away into childish pettiness the moment he stood before you and opened his mouth.

It was as if he actively enjoyed making you uncomfortable.

And you had no idea just how true that assessment was.

Enough was enough. Mustering up all of your courage, you decided to confront the seemingly devious man for his heinous actions. You grilled him profusely, practically begging him to just say what it was that he disliked about you. Heck, you had even offered to steer clear from him for good, that if you ever even caught a glimpse of him in a crowd that you would make yourself scarce.

Anaxa was oddly quiet after that proposal. No snarky comment, no nothing. It almost made you miss his old attitude that day.

But now standing before you was a man who was scorned. Even with the mask he tried to wear, you could still make out the ghost of a quiver on his thin lips. He was wracking his brain for an answer, his eyes wild as he suddenly broke into a maddening grin, his other hand now finding a place around your waist to bring you even closer to him. Pressing your hands on his chest proved futile, his grin wider than any beast ought to have.

"Oh how I despise you..." he whispered in the dark night. It was beyond difficult to understand him but you regardless kept your mouth shut.

He never did like to be interrupted...

His hand trailed downwards to your waist as one of his fingers started to trace a soft pattern on your spine, almost as if he was trying to be affectionate with you.

"You are like a knife that keeps stabbing my heart, over and over... You simply never seem to stop, do you?"

He suddenly pressed his forehead against your own, his hair tickling your entire face as Anaxa was now fully taking up every part of your personal space. From the corner of your eye you noticed the gun which was holstered on his waist but he spoke up just as fast.

"Eyes on me, sweetling. You do not have the luxury of running away from this."

It was hard to breathe, hard to think. You wanted to hit him, to shout at him to do literally anything - but it was all so pointless, especially since he had you so close.

"You have become my punishment, my ultimate temptation." purred Anaxa, his grin still just as big if not even bigger now. With wide eyes you gaped at him like a fish out of water but he merely cackled at your bewildered reaction, it clearly being amusing for him. His lips ghosted over your own, as if he was contemplating whether or not he was going to steal a kiss.

"Oh how I despise you with my whole entire being and yet all I can do is beseech you to just humor me. You have committed the crime of making me fall for you and I cannot forgive you for such a transgression."

He was punishing you. Anaxa was not able to comprehend the depth of his feelings so he showed them the only way he knew how. He had a little bit of madness in him and he wished for you to see it, to feel it.

Bear witness to his pain. See just how completely and utterly you had ruined him with nothing else other than committing the crime of existing. You had wormed your way into his heart without ever meaning to and Anaxa was going to make you pay dearly for that crime.

A/N: a few of you asked me how I'm doing since I wrote my last Anaxa post and I just wanted to thank you all for the kindness! But to ease your worries - massive mood swings are just a part of my character and that's just not going to change LMAO. I'm just the kind of person who has extremely good highs and very deep lows. I am easy to sadden but the up side is that I'm just as easy to cheer up!

But yeah - more Anaxa fics! Heck yeah! He's really tricky for me to pin down but this is the best I can do for him, so far anyway. This was written before 3.2 so I wonder how much his character will differ compared to the idea of him that I have in my head. I also simply must give a shout out to the lovely @harmonysanreads because her Anaxa fics really helped me!

[n0tamused]

can I get prompts sentence fluff no. 21 with Anaxa,Sunday and phainon (if not wrong your limit characters is 3 right?)

Fem reader is the one who ask "can I kiss you" and then the male characters Will be the one who reply It

˖ ࣪⊹Memory of the kiss

21."Can I kiss you?" "You have no idea how long I've waited to hear you ask that."

Contents: Anaxa x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Phainon x Reader, written with a fem reader in mind although gender is not explicitly stated anywhere, fluff, I got another request for the same three with the prompt "first kiss" so I sort of mixed those two prompts together here

Words: 330(Anaxa), 486(Sunday),295(Phainon)

Ko-Fi |  1.5K followers event

˖ ࣪⊹Anaxa

The question did not startle him or shock him as much as you expected, in fact he barely reacted at all as his gaze fixed itself onto yours, an invisible thread tying the both of you together. For a moment, Anaxa believes your hearts shared a beat, one or two, but for once he is speechless, letting the pregnant and wordless pause stretch on. He is looking at you with this glint in his eyes that is hard to escape, it is softening the lines of his face and making him seem younger than he is, soft in ways you dared not voice. 

‘Can I kiss you?’ - it was such a simple question, too simple for him to ponder over it for this long, but he does. And when he notices the fleeing time he clears his throat and takes a breath, offering you a smile he seldom shared with any other person. 

“Yes” he blurted out, shocking you with his boldness. “Now, don’t act so surprised, although I doubt my next confession will feel any less so to you.” He sighs, half in disbelief of his own feelings and the words his tongue was spouting, but Anaxa was nothing if not honest. “You would not be able to guess how long I have waited for you to ask..” he speaks softly to you now, his gaze only flickering to the side for a moment as you feel quiet in face of his honest display. Your mouth opened and closed, at a loss for words, before you took up the hints of a first blush wanting to creep up onto the scholar’s cheeks.

You giggle, and the sound seemingly makes him draw in on himself with a half frown and a furrow of his brows. But before he can banter and scold, you place your hand on his cheeks and lean in, slowly, your breath tickling his skin before your lips pressed together and the world fell quiet around you. 

˖ ࣪⊹Sunday

“What seems to be troubling you? You said you had a question for me, did you not?” Sunday asked as he came to a stop before a shelf of books in a lonely corner of the Astral Express, his tone calm and warm but mingled with notes of curiosity for your avoidance of the topic you, yourself, wished to bring up. 

You sighed, debating whether the moment was right, but tonight was so far away, and tomorrow was uncertain - there is no time like the present moment. Walking over to him you feigned interest in the messy pile of records that Sunday was busying himself with sorting out currently, but your heart was pounding in your throat and your focus was on him alone. After your fingers brushed against the old and yellowed paper you looked back at him, seeing him still waiting.

“May I kiss you, Sunday?” you finally ask, and if a person could be red and pale all at once, Sunday would be that person now. The wings on his head gave a little startle of their own, a quick flutter up and down as he digested your question. 

Just as you were about to excuse yourself and save you both the trouble, he looked about the empty Express carriage, as if someone might see, before looking at you with a glimmer of expectancy and hope. It startled you with how clearly it showed. 

“Is this what you meant to ask? This is not another one of your jests, is it?” Sunday inquired slowly, as if stepping around the crack of the frozen lake. 

“This is no jest, I promise you. I would not have joked about a matter like this.. If you are-”

He raised his hand and your voice faded off. Sunday shook his head, fighting back the blush that was unavoidably crawling up his neck.

“No, no.. I accept it” he replied in a whisper, wishing no one else to hear the words but you, feeling like a follower making his confession at the cathedral. His blood was rushing, heart pounding in his ears, the sound and the feeling of ants in his clothes feeling worse the more he waited for his judgement.  “I admit, I have waited for a long time for an opportunity like this to arise- for you to.. ask..” the more he talked, the more tremors he felt in his curled fingers.

“If you were anyone else, I’d say you were the one jesting now” you spoke in pleasant disbelief as you took another step closer, a motion at which he straightened his back for. Your hand touched his cheek and made him freeze, but once it began to guide him downward, he put up no resistance. Your lips graced his, and it was something sweeter than any honey, better than any redemption. His ears fluttered once more and stretched forward, covering his face and yours. 

˖ ࣪⊹Phainon

Phainon took many things in stride, not being the one to outwardly follow the strict lines of a plan in his daily routines; it was one thing that made him feel grounded and, in a way, free of the worldly burdens, the looming shadow of the future of Amphoreus. The question with which you broke the silence among you was met with a sweet sound of his laughter. It was only natural, but also a way to cover up his surprise as the question repeated itself time and time again between his ears,

As you looked on at him, his face became more serious, his shoulders going tense. “You.. you are serious?” he balked, staring at you as if you’ve grown a second head. Your nod to his question clarified his thoughts, and suddenly everything felt like it was moving, including the ground beneath the soles of his boots. He did not look like was swaying, he wasn’t, he was a warrior of Okhema and has faced foes that would make someone’s nightmares, he did not fall then and will not fall now - but gods, would his knees willingly give out for you.

“You have no idea how long I���ve waited for you to ask me that” he told you in a voice more timid than his usual persona, but all the more genuine for it.  He didn’t move for a while, still stunned and in disbelief but once you took a step towards him, he met you halfway with a step of his own, raising a hand to your cheek that hesitated before pressing against your skin. Phainon lets you kiss him first, but one taste of your lips had him kissing back in search for more, wanting to commit the feeling to memory. 

Ⓒ n0tamused/jarttavia_. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[nepenthic-delirium]

Thinking of a royalty AU with you and Anaxa…

You're the royal heir to the throne, the future monarch of the vast and sprawling empire you call home. You have everything you could ever want–jewel encrusted slippers, the finest silk in the kingdom, and different jewels adorning your figure everyday. 

But what you really want? The love and affection of your father’s chief advisor–the man you lovingly call Anaxa. (And the man who scowls whenever you call him that–indignantly retorting that his name is “Anaxagoras”). 

The rumors about your father’s chief advisor also never escape your notice, from him being called a blasphemer to others saying Anaxa hates anything–and anyone that has to do with the monarchy. Gossipers call him, “an abolitionist of the old government” but you think that’s a bit dumb. Why would your dear father elevate a man with those sorts of ideas into such an elite position? But then again…

You also have your doubts. Anytime you ever try to talk to him, he always switches the topic, trying to leave you high and dry as he almost hurriedly walks away! It’s like he wants to avoid you! How absurd! 

You have to find out the truth, so that’s when you posed the question–

“Do you hate me, Anaxa?”

Your cheeks are flushed, your hair messy and out-of-sorts from running after him like a servant–how rude! But you need the answer for this burning question.

Anaxa gawks. “What?” His voice is high and pitchy, if not a bit surprised. 

“Do you hate me or not!” You exclaim. “And don’t go running away from me.” 

Anaxa regains his composure, if only for a little bit. “Your highness, truly you must know that the only reason why I avoid you is because of my duties-” 

“That wasn’t my question.” You can feel your face heat up, half part embarrassment from even cornering Anaxa and another part being the shyness creeping up from your spine–this is the longest conversation you ever had with him!”

“Anaxa,” you begin.

His eye twitches. “For the last time, my name is–” 

“Do you like me or not! And by like, I mean like-like! Do you love me!?” 

The hall goes silent. Anaxa coughs into his fist, looking anywhere but at you. “You are…quite direct, you know that?”

“Well, do you? Do you?” You prod. 

Anaxa is silent for a bit, before sighing, rubbing his forehead with his index and his thumb as he mutters, "I do suppose your idiocy is endearing."

Your jaw goes slack.

And then you have a hot steamy night, get married, and live a joyful life together 🔥

@ NEPENTHIC-DELIRIUM. do not plagiarize, claim my work as your own, translate or share my posts on any platform outside of tumblr.

[voidcat]

notes: gn!reader x Anaxagoras — u can pretend this is canon compliant or modern au, wtv fancies your boat. First kiss trope (implied). Yes it’s two in the morning. Free me T-T

When you catch Anaxagoras by himself again, by the empty hall, you think maybe this is your chance. Now or never, what’s there to lose? Save for your dignity maybe, and the face you’ll have to be wearing whenever you look at him for the rest of your life— the more you think, the worse it gets. Each more possibility that crosses your mind is uglier than the previous and only mocks you further.

“Could I… ask you something?” The words leave your mouth and you mentally pat yourself on the shoulder. They got out just fine, you even sounded your professional voice! Alas, you scramble over the rest, like a broken dam, once your mouth has been opened, you cannot close it- call it nerves, the name of your executioner.

Stumbling over your words and overthinking out loud, he watches with confusion with a tilt of his head for a while- that is, until he takes pity on you and interrupts. Usually crossed arms now dropped to his sides, he says “Why don’t you ask me first and worry about the possibilities later?”

Were it not the predicament you’ve created for yourself and the awkward nature of your question, you could maybe even find him a tad amused in the moment, a slight glee to his voice. So you take a deep breath in, stop fiddling with your fingers and ask Anaxagoras if you can kiss him. Your worries only begin to grow the longer he remains silent- too deep in his endless train of thoughts spiraling that he didn’t realize he forgot to answer your question.

Meanwhile you’re going through several stages of death, anguish and every gut wrenching, souls wrecking, ‘May the gods hear my plea and open up a hole so I can jump right in and disappear from the face of earth’ wishing emotional turmoil possible- too caught up in your head to voice his eye wide open in surprise, his mind working at a speed rivaling yours in that moment.

He can barely react as you make a move to leave. Just as you mumble something falling to deaf ears and echoing against the lonely walls, turning on your heel to make your flee, he reaches out and grabs your wrist. Both of you stand frozen at the sudden contact, just staring at one another until he breaks the silence; saying just because he fell silent doesn’t imply he answered your question negatively.

It takes you by surprise, a ringing to your ears, a fog inside your skull maybe- it sounds unreal, unbelievable. Was it not for your wrist still in his hold, you’d be pinching yourself right now.

A moments breath passes, then another. Hands barely grazing his vest, you stand on your toes, with your movement, he moves in too, closing the space between the two of you quicker. A lithe kiss that barely touches, your breath on his lips tickles.

The kiss is small and shy ‘all that fuss and worrying for something this feeble?’ And you don’t know if this thought belongs to you or what you fear he thinks. So before you can worry any further, he leans in for the second time and kisses you properly. Any other thought, in that moment, ceases to exist.

[miyaz6ki]

modern au for hsr men again, anaxa edition!

once you guys get married, there's no stopping here.

"my spouse—" "my partner—" "oh. you know (s/o) does that exact same thing." "that reminds me, my (s/o) also does that."

anaxagoras xenidis, who took pride in speaking his name aloud, is now as proud to say your name beside his last name, becoming yours too.

he couldn't lie, he's always thought (s/o) sounded a lot better with xenidis anyway,

not to mention the subtle flexes he makes out of the oh-so-expensive gold-adorned diamond wedding band on the left hand he always leaned his cheek on.

sighing as he says how much he misses his significant other, please his coworkers could probably tell you about yourself just as much as anaxa does!

but it also rang like wedding bells in his ears whenever he heard the cashier register say "mister xenidis, and mx. xenidis? your table is ready." or maybe it was the first time hearing others call out your full name as a joke, and hear his last name. it was satisfying. very satisfying.

and it only would get more annoying to the people around him whenever anyone brought up interests you had. or habits you had. or even things you mentioned before, never ever EVER let this man hear that you found interest in flowers.

next day in bed, your nightstand had a bouquet of those flora you had previously mentioned. a true yearner I feel.

anaxa loves hi s/o sososososo much it annoys his students

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

࣪ ִֶָ☾ ˎˊ˗. 🎀 TITS, ASS OR THIGHS ?!

If MYDEI had to choose, it would be tits—without hesitation. There’s something utterly mesmerizing about them, the way they fill his hands, soft and warm, pliant beneath his touch. He loves the way they press against his chest when he pulls you close, how they spill over his fingers when he grips them just right. But most of all, he loves watching them move—how they bounce with every sharp thrust, how they respond to his touch, how they look when you're riding him, lost in pleasure. It’s enough to drive him mad, enough to make him want to ruin you completely.

His hands are greedy, rough yet worshipful as they mold around your softness, squeezing just enough to make you gasp. He revels in the way your body reacts to him—how your breath stutters when his thumbs graze over your nipples, how you arch into his touch, offering yourself up without hesitation. There’s a thrill in knowing he can take and take, that he can be as relentless as he pleases, and you’ll still crave more. Mydei doesn’t just touch; he claims, his fingers pressing into supple flesh as if to carve his presence into your very skin.

And right now, he wants to see them bounce. His grip tightens on your hips before he drags you down onto him, forcing you to take him all at once. A sharp gasp leaves your lips, but he doesn’t give you time to adjust. He sets the pace himself, guiding you with strong hands, making you move just the way he wants. Slow at first—just to tease, just to hear that sweet little whimper you try to bite back—but soon, his patience wears thin. The way you bounce with every motion, the way your tits rise and fall with each sharp thrust—it’s hypnotic, addictive, and he can’t hold back. His fingers dig deeper, possessive, almost bruising, but it only makes you cling to him more.

“You were made for this,” he growls, voice thick with hunger, his breath hot against your skin. “Made for me.”

He tilts his head back slightly, drinking in the sight before him—your body moving in perfect rhythm with his, your skin flushed, marked by his touch, your pleasure written all over your face. It’s intoxicating, watching you come undone for him, knowing he’s the reason for your trembling thighs, your shuddering breaths, your desperate grip on his shoulders.

It’s almost too much. Almost enough to shatter the last threads of his control. But not yet. Because he isn’t finished with you. Not even close.

If PHAINON had to choose, it would be thighs—without a doubt. There’s something about the way they look wrapped around his waist, the way they tremble when he touches just right, the way they lock around him when you're desperate to keep him close. He loves how soft they are, how easy it is to slip his fingers beneath your skirt, to trace slow, teasing circles along your inner thighs just to hear your breath hitch.

And when you're on top of him? When you're straddling his lap, shifting impatiently as he drags his hands over your skin, taking his time just to watch you squirm? That’s his favorite. He loves the control it gives him, the way he can dig his fingers into your flesh and guide you exactly how he wants, pressing you down until there's no space left between you.

“Don’t run from me,” he murmurs, voice low and honeyed, a smirk tugging at his lips as he watches you shudder. “Stay right here. Let me feel you.”

Your thighs squeeze tighter around him, and he groans, fingers flexing as if he might just hold you there forever. Because nothing drives him wilder than this—the warmth of your body against his, the way you cling to him, the way you look when you finally stop fighting and give in.

Phainon’s grip tightens, fingers pressing into your flesh, his touch both grounding and possessive. He loves the way your body reacts—how you shiver under his fingertips, how your breath comes faster when he kneads the softest parts of your thighs. He knows exactly what he’s doing, the way his slow, teasing strokes make you ache, the way he holds you in place just to watch you tremble.

“You’re so sensitive,” he muses, his voice lilting, almost playful. “Is it because you can feel how deep my cock is in you?”

His words alone are enough to make you squirm, but he doesn’t let you go far. He keeps you pressed against him, his hands spreading over your thighs, smoothing over the plush curves before tightening just enough to make you gasp. He drinks in the sight—your body poised above his, your thighs framing him so perfectly, your need so obvious despite your feeble attempts to resist.

And then, just to tease, he shifts his hips beneath you, letting you feel the growing heat between you. Your breath hitches, your thighs instinctively squeezing tighter around him, and his smirk only deepens.

"See? This is why I love them," he murmurs, pressing a slow, lingering kiss against your throat. "So soft. So warm. So perfect when they’re wrapped around me."

His voice is honeyed sin, his touch both gentle and possessive, and it only makes you want more. But Phainon is in no rush—he likes to take his time, to savor, to make you melt beneath him until you're pliant and desperate and clinging to him with no escape. Because he knows, in the end, you’ll let him have exactly what he wants.

If ANAXA had to choose, it would be ass—without question. There’s something about the way it fills his hands, how perfectly it fits beneath his grip when he pulls you close. He loves the way it moves when you walk, the way it presses against him when you sit in his lap, the way his fingers sink into the plushness of it whenever he gets the chance to touch. And oh, he takes every chance he can get.

He’s shameless about it, too. A hand slipping down when no one’s looking, a firm squeeze that makes you gasp, a knowing smirk when you turn to glare at him. He doesn’t care if anyone sees—it’s his, after all. Why shouldn’t he enjoy it? And when he has you beneath him, body trembling, ass lifted just for him? That’s when he’s at his most ravenous, when his grip tightens, when his palm lands sharp against soft skin just to watch you jolt.

“Look at you,” he murmurs, voice rich with amusement as his hands roam, as he kneads and teases like he has all the time in the world. “So eager. You like this, don’t you?”

He knows the answer before you say a word. Because when he finally pulls you against him, when he thrusts deep and watches you arch, watches the way your body responds to him so perfectly—it’s enough to make him lose himself completely.

Anaxa's hand finds its way back to your ass, fingers curling around the soft curve before he delivers a sharp smack that resonates in the air between you. The sound is followed by a breathy gasp from your lips, and he can’t help but chuckle, reveling in the way your body responds to both pleasure and surprise. The sting of his hand contrasts beautifully with the heat building between you, igniting a fire that makes him want to push you further, to take you deeper.

“Such a good little thing,” he teases, delivering another spank, this one a bit harder, just to see you jump. “I think you like it more than you’re willing to admit.”

His words are playful, but his gaze is dark and hungry, filled with the need to dominate, to claim you completely. Each smack is a reminder of who you belong to, a perfect blend of pleasure and pain that leaves you gasping, arching into him as your body craves more.

“Give in to it,” he urges, voice low and inviting. “Let me hear you.”

With every thrust, every squeeze, every resounding slap of his hand against your soft skin, he pushes you closer to the edge. He loves the way you squirm, the way you moan, the way you melt beneath his touch. And as he loses himself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together, he knows that this is just the beginning of what he intends to take from you.

© 2024-2025 blueberrisdove-sideblog all rights reserved. pretty please, do not steal my dividers, translate and plagiarize any of my works, or either repost my works in any other platform without asking, thank you!

[kisakis-boyfriend]

Cosmic Experimentation

Author's Note: @angelesca 's post has been living rent free in my head ever since I read it. I've wanted to write something for Anaxagoras, but I couldn't figure out what to write. And now I have the best inspiration, thanks to her HCs 😚 (I'm thinking about writing a part 2 where we finger his chest hole too–)

Pairings: Anaxagoras x male reader

Warnings: Dom male!reader, sub!Anaxa, fingering unusual holes, slight thigh humping, dacryphilia

“Are you sure about this? You really don't have to you kn–”

“No — I… I'm certain that I want to do this.” Anaxagoras takes an unsteady breath before he adds, “I trust you. I trust that you will be gentle and cautious.”

You nod, taking a deep breath as well before giving Anaxa's waist a light squeeze. Then, you raise one hand up to his face, cupping his left cheek. The warmth from your palm seeps into his skin, bringing about a bit of comfort — enough to bring a small smile to his lips.

Anaxagoras' eye flutters shut at the gentleness of your touch. The ornate eye patch covering the left side of his face keeps your attention, it's chain swaying gently whenever Anaxa's head moves. Your other hand remains on his hip, holding him steady while he sits comfortably in your lap, straddling your thigh.

It's another full minute of staying as you are, lost in this peaceful moment, before you trace the underside of Anaxa's eye patch. Gently slipping a finger underneath and lifting it slightly, only to pause when your partner shudders. “Sweetie?” you prod, afraid that this area is more sensitive than he led you to believe.

“Keep going–” he reassures, holding onto your wrist now, almost as a guiding hand. You hesitate, but ultimately give in and continue reaching upwards until your fingers reach a new sensation. Anaxagoras' breath hitches, his lips pressing together tighter as you explore this new territory. It doesn't feel like skin anymore — it's damp to the touch, and somewhat cold.

Your eyes flick to your partner's gaze; he's watching you with bated breath, predicting that you'll penetrate this spot any second now. Proving him right, you apply pressure, dipping your finger into that cool, unseen space hidden under his eye patch. Anaxagoras catches a moan before it can fully exit his throat. He gulps, digging his nails into your wrist while his other hand flies to your shoulder for stability.

“‘Sensitive’, huh? It seems you were right about that.” you tease. Anaxa can't even muster a retort as you push in a little deeper, then begin to pull your finger back out, repeating the motion idly. “Do you think you can handle two fingers?”

At this, Anaxa's eye widens, and you can instantly see the blood rush to his soft cheeks. He glares at you, but makes no argument against your question. So, you decide to find out for yourself. And the result is instantaneous: an unrestrained moan forces its way out of your pretty boyfriend. All the while, his hips jut forward, dragging his clothed cock along your thigh. The action is not missed by either one of you; while it only causes him to flush an even deeper shade of red, it brings a smirk to your lips as you understand why your partner wanted to do this in a secluded area.

Several minutes pass, filled with Anaxagoras making all sorts of reserved breathy noises. The space where your fingers reside is still a mystery to you, though one thing is for sure: future experimentation is required in order to find out the best way to bring out all of Anaxa's beautiful moans and whimpers.

The sudden realization of a wet spot on your thigh brings you out of your thoughts, and you direct your gaze to where your partner has been humping you, apparently. His hips move of their own accord, spreading a wetness that has quickly soaked through his clothing. You're sure that Anaxa doesn't even realize that he's doing it, which makes it all the more adorable.

“It must feel incredible…” you murmur. Your gaze is fixed on the growing wet spot between his legs, highlighting the very obvious bulge nestled there as well. As you thrust your fingers in a bit deeper, and more forcefully, Anaxagoras clutches your shoulder tighter, letting his mouth hang open and spill every noise without restraint now. Tears fill his right eye, beginning to run down his cheek. You grip his waist a little tighter, pulling Anaxa closer and accidentally causing his dick to grind against your thigh. An action that has shivers crawling up your partner's spine.

Anaxagoras pleads in the sweetest voice, “Please…it's– hnngh!! It's warm…haaah…and hard to breathe…” Another moan escapes as you curl your fingers deeply, making your boyfriend arch his back. “C-can't…take much mo-ore…”

“Tell me what you need, my love. What do you need me to do?” you ask in a gentle tone.

Rolling his hips against your thigh, Anaxagoras shudders once more, crying “Don't stop moving them–”

Immediately, you understand what he means. You pump your fingers in and out of Anaxa's cosmic orifice, and it makes little squelching sounds as you do. His voice wavers, going up an octave as he draws closer to his release. All of Anaxa's clothing feels too tight, as if his collar is constricting around his throat, and the back of his shirt clings to his skin as a layer of sweat forms. His chest hurts with how heavily he's been breathing for the past few minutes.

Something in Anaxagoras' core burns with searing pleasure, and the tension that has been building finally snaps as you coo at your partner to “Let it all out~”. His vision is blinded by white static, and his hips thrust forward a few times before his entire body goes lax.

“Aahh…aah~” your boyfriend heaves, exhaling harshly as the aftermath of his orgasm shakes his body and mind. You're quick to kiss Anaxa's cheek where tears had previously run down, holding him tightly since you could tell how weak he was in his current state. Soaking in every last whimper from your ruined boyfriend, you rub the small of his back while you tell him how pretty he looks. Earning yourself a halfhearted glare as a result.

You slowly remove your fingers from underneath his eye patch, eyeing them curiously as they're coated in a viscous blue substance. Before you can stare at it for too long, Anaxa weakly grasps your wrist again, putting your fingers in his mouth and sucking on them in an uncharacteristically lewd display. With his eye still glazed over, Anaxa stares at you like you're his entire universe (and, let's be honest, you are). His tongue swirls around your digits, cleaning them of that blueish fluid until they're practically sparkling, releasing your fingers with a wet pop.

“Well aren't we thoughtful?” you tease, swiping some spit from the corner of your partner's mouth. A content grin plasters itself onto Anaxagoras' face, and he leans forward to rest his forehead against yours, taking in more of your warmth as it radiates off of your skin.

Absentmindedly, you rest your hand on his chest, rubbing it affectionately until something clicks in your head…

“Hey, Anaxagoras?”

“Hm?” he hums, not pulling away quite yet.

“This mark, is this what the one under there looks like?” you trace the outline of the cosmic design in the center of his chest, outlined with silver.

Without opening his eye or moving a muscle, Anaxagoras responds, “It is.”

You continue running your finger along the edges of this area. “Does it function the same way too?”

Now Anaxa does pull back, squinting at you cautiously. “It does…why?” And you know very well that the smirk playing on your lips has caught his attention.

No words are needed as you glance at the pattern on his chest, then up to your partner's gaze, then back to his chest, and to his gaze once more, raising your eyebrows knowingly.

The deepest blush spreads across the scholar's face, followed by a gasp. “You…!!”

[the-original-skipps]

|| These Chocolates Are What Now..?! || Honkai Star Rail Reactions ||

I know I’m super duper late for valentines day but better late than never right? also to celebrate 3.1 coming out so this is kinda a 2 in 1 kinda thing lol I was meant to post this way earlier but the burnout hit first

synopsis: A mysterious box of chocolates appear on the kitchen table of your shared home, signed with your name. "From: (Name)" it reads, it's only natural to assume that it's from you right? The chocolates look appetizing enough, you wouldn't mind if he went ahead and took a bite right? Little did he know, that they weren't from you but a certain trash lover seeking to spark a little mischief.

: established relationship. use of aphrodisiacs. suggestiveness. sexual content. nsfw. not too explicit sexual content. don't worry its safe they won't die by eating too much.

: aventurine. sunday. phainon. mydei. anaxa.

❥ Aventurine with narrowed eyes tries to look over the report displayed on his tablet for the 8th time in a row, trying to understand its context. His body feeling unusually hot despite the cool air conditioner, his leg bouncing restlessly as he sits in his lavish office. Something’s definitely wrong with him, this sudden change in his body.

Aventurine tries to think back to the last thing he consumed - the only thing that came to mind was the box of chocolates given to him by you. He ate a piece of it, okay maybe two because they were delicious but his sudden bout couldn't possibly be caused by mere chocolates right?

“Aventurine?”

Interrupting his chain of thoughts, Aventurine snaps his head towards the sound of your voice. The door opens slowly to reveal you and the blonde couldn’t help but swallow at the sight of you. “Y-Yeah?” He curses his voice for coming out so shakily as he puts down his tablet. You look at him curiously before stepping into the room, with a cup of coffee in hand.

Aventurine tries to smile appreciatively at your actions but his current thoughts are amok with indecent thoughts. How your lips look so kissable, the smooth skin of your thighs from the bottoms you're wearing. Fuck, he just wants to pull you into his lap kiss you senseless. The blonde feels his hands unconsciously tightening into fists in trying to hold himself back. His eyes trained on you as you place the coffee on his desk.

Too engrossed in his thoughts Aventurine looks up in surprise as your hand is suddenly placed on his forehead, a worried look in your eyes. "You don't look so good. Maybe take a break?" You suggest with concern.

The gambler's face warms at your touch. He can feel his restraint snapping as he takes in your sweet aroma. How close you are to him, it’s all so intoxicating. He doesn't think he can hold back anymore.

Dammit...!

You let out a surprised squeak as Aventurine suddenly pulls you to straddle his lap, his arms wrapping around you to keep you in place. His face immediately nuzzles into your neck, taking in your scent.

Gosh, this is so embarrassing he feels like an animal. Aventurine thinks to himself, a blush lightly dusted on his cheeks as he feels his trousers getting tighter. You probably feel it too judging by that look on your face. This is all your chocolate’s fault!

"You little fox..."

Aventurine purrs, finally looks up to gaze into your eyes - his sweet breath fanning your face. You almost gulp in response despite not knowing what he's referring to. He lets out a low chuckle at your nervous expression leaning close until his lips are pressed against your cheek.

"You didn't have to resort to such tactics for me to want you..." He whispers, his lips teasingly brushing against your skin - inducing shivers you can't hold back.

His lips trailing from your cheek to the pulse of your neck leaving kisses in his wake before he licks a stripe. Wanting to sink his teeth onto the smooth expanse of your neck. His hands run up and down your thighs before gripping your hips in a desperate hold. The blonde holds your hips to grind against his while quiet sighs leave his lips.

You try to suppress your moans, your own face turning just as red to match his. All the while his hypnotic eyes are drinking in your expressions, fueling his already lustful state. Work can wait, there are more pressing matters to attend to right now.

“Don’t hold back…you better take responsibility for making me like this.” 

❥ Sunday hugs you from behind, a soft breathy moan escaping his lips at the feeling of your body pressed against his. He wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you flush against him. Trapping your body against his and the kitchen counter.

You flinch in surprise at his sudden hug, quickly placing down the plate you were just washing. You almost dropped it with how he startled you. You wonder if he’s in one of those needy moods again, you giggle at the thought.

What you didn’t expect next was for his lips to immediately latch onto your neck. Sunday flutters his eyes closed, as his tongue licks and lips suck on your skin. An uncontrollable shiver runs through you at his actions as your hands instinctively places itself over his own.

“S-Sunny, what’s gotten into y-you all of a sudden?” You try to speak out, trying to suppress the moans from leaving your lips.

Sunday only hums in response, his lips still working on your neck - from one spot to the other. While his hips rutting against your ass. Bracing yourself your hands move from his to grip the counter instead. The force of his hips rocking you forward.

“S-Slow down, l-love.” You laugh sheepishly as you try to turn your head to face him. Only for the Halovian to grip your chin, turning your face so you remain facing forward while he continues to leave bruising marks on your neck.

Sunday feels as if his own body has been possessed, as if he’s looking through misty lenses. His rationality takes a backseat as he lets his primal instincts take over. His body is burning hot with sweat like he's running through a fever.

Normally, he wouldn’t dare to be so forward with you but something awakened in him after consuming all those chocolates from you. Maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to eat an entire box of it but he couldn’t help his sweet tooth. Especially when he knew it was gifted by you.

Was this your plan all along? To gift him such a thing? To see your usual shy boyfriend take the lead? Sunday nearly whimpers at the thought, as his lips latch onto the curve of your neck.

This is all too much.

Too overwhelming.

Is this what it feels like to be tuned? He’d always been the one tuning other people in the dreamscape and now he’s on the receiving end of it. It almost hurts with how hard is cock has gotten. He needs to be inside you right now before he completely loses his mind. Curse your delicious chocolates.

“P-Please, I don’t think I can hold back much longer…” 

❥ Phainon can feel his body being set on fire with how hot he's feeling right now. The sweat clinging to skin makes him want to shed all of his clothes right now. He grimaces at his wet shirt, unbuttoning it to gain some relief. The trousers he's wearing are sticking a little too close to his legs. He sheds all his clothes off, leaving him clad only in his briefs. Phainon lets out a sigh as the cool air hits his exposed skin, giving him temporary relief from this unbearable heat.

"Ah love, I think I'll go take a showeー"

Phainon feels his breath knocked out of him as he turns to face you. Though, you weren't doing anything in particular that was breathtaking per se. You were just sitting by the window still with a book in hand. Too engrossed to have heard his earlier words. Yet, why does he feel his own arousal growing at the mere innocent sight of you.

The smooth skin of your legs barely hidden by the bottoms you wear. The gentle wind ruffles your hair, exposing the unmarked expanse of your neck. Your soft parted lips as you concentrate on the ink on the pages. Phainon unconsciously swallows at the view.

Damn.

The ashen haired male feels his cock standing at full attention now. His briefs holding onto dear life in trying to keep his cock from springing free. The tightness is almost uncomfortable now. Phainon could deal with the problem himself with the shower he was planning to take earlier ( a smile creeps onto his face at an even better idea) but where's the fun in that?

A familiar presence makes himself known to you causing you to look up from your book. Only for your eyes to nearly bulge out of their sockets at what you see. There stands your boyfriend in all his sweaty muscled glory with only a pair of briefs on. All the while sporting a massive hard on.

"Hi!" He greets you with a wave of his hand, unbothered by the weird look you're giving him. "I need some help. Care to help little ol' me?" Phainon asks almost too casually, palming his hardened length for emphasis.

A pregnant silence falls over you both.

You feel your cheeks immediately heat as Phainon continues to stare at you with an yearning gaze - awaiting your answer. You can almost make out the invisible tail wagging behind him in excitement. You try to take in and make sense of the situation but it was taking too long. Too long for Phainon's liking. So, he takes matters into his own hands.

A surprised yelp leaves your lips as Phainon looks his hands under your thighs to pull you forward and onto his chest. Forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. Your hands on his shoulders to steady yourself from suddenly being lifted onto him. Phainon chuckles, finding your reaction adorable as he holds you to his chest tightly. Making his way towards your shared bedroom despite your frantic confusion.

"I take that as a yes!"

❥ Mydei approaches you with fast and determined steps to your spot on the couch. His large shadow casting over you. You look up at him blinking in curiosity as he stares down at you with a small box in his hand. You both continue to have a mini stare off in silence causing you nervously shift in place. Wondering the meaning behind this box he's brought and this look he's giving you. Just as you were about to speak up, the blonde sinks onto his knees in front of you - placing the unknown box to the side.

With a smirk, using his large hands Mydei pries your thighs open in one smooth motion. He slots himself in between them, leaning close until his face is only a breath away from yours. His golden eyes locking in with yours in some sort of hypnotic trance. You sit in silence as the anticipation eats away at you, wondering what he's planning on doing.

"Aphrodisiac chocolate huh?" He asks his voice emphasizing the "aphrodisiac" part.

"I don't know what you mean?" Causing you to look at him in confusion, unsure as to what he means. As you pick up the box he set aside inspecting it with a careful eye, before shaking your head. To your response Mydei blinks in confusion.

"It said it was from you..."

Mydei mumbles to himself as his eyebrows furrow, his thoughts scrambling to find the answers. "How do you even know it's aphrodisiacs?" You grumble, eyeing him suspiciously, slightly uneasy that had received them from someone else even though they claimed to be from you. It all just sounds like a bad prank.

Oh.

"I know who sent it." You say as laughter spills from your lips. There's no doubt in your mind who the culprit could be, only a certain gray haired friend would do something like this. Maybe you should thank them, for bestowing you this opportunity.

Mydei immediately asks who but you brush off his question, choosing to place the box in your lap. You ask him if he's eaten some already to which he affirms that he did.

"It'll take a lot more than a box to get me feeling aroused but..." Mydei chuckles picking up a piece from the box with his fingers as he eyes you with a dark look in his eyes. He brings the piece of chocolate to your lips, coaxing you to take a bite.

"Instead of feeding it to me, why don't you have a taste?"

❥ Anaxa is sitting on his expensive looking chair with his legs crossed as you enter the room with a knock. His face resting on his gloved hand while the other, his fingers drum against the hardwood of the table in a slow rhythm.

Closing the door behind you, you fully step into his office approaching his desk where he sits. The situation reminds you a lot of when you were a student being called into the teacher's office for causing some kind of trouble. You hope that's not the case here.

Anaxa turns, so that his seated figure is facing you. He remains silent, as he studies you with his eye. You can feel the anticipation and dread manifesting in your stomach at his prolonged silence. You hope you haven't done anything to upset him.

Then Anaxa, while seated, pushes forward a box towards you - gesturing to you to open it. You eye the box with curiosity laced with nervousness as you run your fingers down the smooth surface of it before grabbing hold of it.

"W-What?"

You open the box only to be met with the sight of rows of neatly lined chocolate and enticing looking within the box. You look up, sending a look of confusion towards Anaxa.

"Someone thought it would be funny to play a joke on me." Anaxa speaks up for the first since you've entered his office. He fishes out a note from his coat, handing it for you to see.

It was a note signed with your name.

"Though I already know who that person might be." He lets out a sigh at this whole predicament while you look at him puzzled by his words. Sensing your confusion, Anaxa explains a summary of the sequence of events which lead to you being called to his office.

"It doesn't matter who sent it but what they sent."

Taking a piece of chocolate with his fingers, Anaxa rises to his full height to stand in front of you. "These aren't just normal chocolates though, care to guess what they are?" He asks you, taking on his professor voice with a small smirk on his lips. You eye the chocolate held within his fingers as you rack your brain for the answer to his question.

"Poison?"

"Close but still incorrect."

"They're aphrodisiac laced chocolates." He simply answers, discarding the piece of chocolate in the trash. Slightly grimacing at how the chocolate melted onto his fingers. "Don't worry, they're basically harmless unless you decide to eat the whole box."

You let out a sigh of relief, glad that no one was trying to poison your lover and pin the blame on you. "Although..." You perk up at the sound of his voice.

"I am quite curious about their potency." You see a familiar gleam in Anaxa's eye as he tips your chin up before smearing his chocolate covered thumb across your bottom lip.

"Shall we conduct an experiment?