#Phainon x reader angst

[dogloveri23]

Crushes never last

Pairing: Phainon x reader

Warning: angst a little.

A/n: I’ve been away for quite some time but the thought of allowing tumblr to continue on with non enough Phainon fics is torturing me! Also I’m a little rusty!

“You’re really going to leave without confessing to that idiot?” Mydei asked. I was. I was going to leave. There was no longer a reason to stay on Amphoreous. All the issues had been resolved, the team had reunited and everything was stable. The mission was over.

“I doubt there’s much gain to it,” I replied as we both watched Phainon speak to Stella and Dan Heng. His body as expressive as his words. He was overflowing with energy given the situation that had just concluded. That was just who he was. Always the man brimming with energy while I struggled with the pain coursing through body. “He seems just fine.”

“So you’d rather leave? Not say anything at all instead of try. That’s cowardly… even for you.”

What would be the point of a confession? I didn’t expect Mydei to understand but loving Phainon was not an option. Loving the man known as The Deliverer would leave me absolutely heartbroken.

The entirety of Amphoreous swooned over him and every word he spoke, excluding Mydei. He was a demigod. I could never just have him to myself. He radiated positivity. He was a fresh ray of sunshine on a cold day. The kind that melts the cold off your skin and let’s it breathe once more. That was Phainon.

A comfortable sun is dangerous, it’s not to hot nor too warm, it’s perfect. One taste of it and you’ll never want to leave. I had to leave. I had completed my mission and now I had to say goodbye.

The path of the trailblaze is not a path of strong romantic bonds. They certainly happened, but most of the time, it came at the cost of trailblaze. The trailblaze was my life. It was who I was at my very core. The exploration, the adventure- all of it was me.

To fall in love, I have to determine whether or not the individual is worth losing it all. Is he worth losing the freedom of exploration? The snowy mountains of Jarilo-VI or the dazzling dreams of Penacony? Is he worth me leaving the express and finding a new home here.

The short answer- yes. The long answer- I’m not ready to let go yet. There was too much of the universe I hadn’t seen. Lukasha was one of the, the blue planet was another. If I stayed there was a chance that I wouldn’t. A chance that the stellarons scattered around the universe would be found without me. I couldn’t do that!

If I decided to love him, could I risk leaving him here alone on my adventures and know that I would be leaving a tender hearted man like Phainon in a life of loneliness. Well that was a far thought.

It’s a bold assumption that a man like Phainon would like someone like me. Cold, Rash and Overly Calculating. But in the event that it even was true, it would be cruel of me to do so.

“Call it cowardly if you will.”

“Do you think he’s a waste of time?” No. He was worth all the time in the world.

“I think leaving him here after confessing my love is cruel. If he accepts that it…”

“And what?” Mydei asked crossing his arms. “You think he wouldn’t do that if he loved someone?”

“I think because I love him, it would be unfair to make him do that.” He deserved someone who would be around- Who would love him CLOSE BY!

“Then let him make that choice,” Mydei sighed. “Phainon isn’t the smartest but he should have the choice. He should have the chance to hear that you love him. At least as proper closure to your chapter here.”

Mydei was right. I was taking the decision away from Phainon. “Hey Y/n, we’re meant to leaving now you know?” March said interrupting my conversation. She was in a sober mood because she missed most of the adventure but the pictures definitely made up for it.

“I’m coming, I just have to say goodbye to one last person.” I glanced over to Mydei who shot me a curt nod. Phainon practically ran over to me. His smile as radiant.

“I can’t believe this is the last time we’re going to be seeing for some time!” He exclaimed. He was bright as ever and I forgot what I was going to say. Was it even important? Was it worth it to ruin our final meeting with a confession knowing that there would be no happy ending?

“You can always call me you know?”

“It wouldn’t be the same! You’re such a great friend that I…” I stopped listening. Friend. Of course.

There was that cursed word again. It was true, we were friends but somehow the word made me feel sick to my stomach. Everytime he mentioned it, it was like my heart was swollen with rage. But he was right, we were friends.

Friends do not confess to one another.

“I’ll miss you too Phainon. Till the next time we see.” I turned my heel and left the confused man on the outskirts of the holy city.

I boarded the express and kept my eyes fixed on the planet known as Amphoreous. We would get moving soon and leave the atmosphere for good. Our fuel was sufficient enough now anyway. “Goodbye My love…” I mumbled as the express began to put a greater distance between us.

Part 2?

[nativeofsumeru]

Honkai: Star Rail Fanfiction Story Ideas (Part 3/?)

A/N: part two of the Mydei x reader x Phainon idea cause tumblr wouldn't let me post longer chunks :( ~~ Mydei x reader x Phainon (Part 2) Phainon route: -reader accepts -reader's father is undoubtedly pissed and Phainon is painted as a kidnapper -Mydei and his father likely put out a rescue mission and a bounty on Phainon -maybe reader and Phainon run off to a small city in the countryside on the outskirts of the kingdom, elope, do their best to evade capture and just have a fluffy marriage ~ Mydei route: -reader rejects Phainon's offer out of fear or doesn't want to betray Mydei -reader marries Mydei, Phainon is alone (as fated) -option 1: reader is cold to Mydei despite how much he tries to make it an enjoyable experience for the both of them, maybe they eventually get into an argument when his patience snaps at continuously getting cold shouldered -option 2: reader tries to make the most of the situation with Mydei which makes him happy (and he's surprised by how easily he falls) -Mydei tries to learn more about reader's interest in the arts and likely tries to help facilitate it, loves whatever art or music the reader makes -they really due fall in love in some way and have a pretty good relationship (Phanion? pfft-who's that?) -either Mydei will continue to be blissfully unaware of your past lover or Mydei will become painfully aware ~ -stop here to end with fluff, continue for pain and drama! ~ -DRAMA: -there's an event, ball or something being held in the castle, the whole kingdom is invited -Phainon shows -Mydei is distracted with guests, Phainon seizes the oppurtunity to spend time with reader, maybe they run off to the castle gardens for a moment, maybe they dance, or both -Mydei finds them being way too cushy with each other on the dancefloor, the men confront each other ~ -could be a continuance or a separate fic: -more likely to be written in Amphoreus quest storyline/canon -"Nikador once failed in love and even had to fight his rival" -Phainon is still reader's past lover, whether separated by time, distance, life, or other people, reader is now Mydei's spouse, Mydei is aware that something definitely happened between reader and Phainon in the past but the specific details never come up between the three of them, Phainon is still in love -insert unexpected impromptu battle scene here -Mydei is trying to protect reader with his life -reader accidentally gets in the way of one of Phainon's strikes on an enemy and it's too late to him to stop the blow (maybe it's an attack from a distance) -Mydei notices the fatal injury almost immediately breaks down, he failed to protect his spouse -when the final enemy is neutralized not long after and Mydei comes to hold reader -Phainon is in shock that he actually did this, takes him a while to actually walk over -Mydei tells him to back off -they almost fight right then and there -Phainon has no time to say goodbye to the love of his life as they pass away in another man's arms -Mydei needs a moment to grieve first -Phainon gets a head start to run because Mydei will most definitely try to kill him for this -they fight, storming weather -"and you say you loved her" “is this what love means to you, deliverer?”

[harmeu]

ARGUMENTS 

(HSR X READER) (ANGST)

(Amphoreus Men)

(GN!READER)

MYDEI: (His devotion to his fight which results in neglect.)

You couldn’t remember the last time you and your beloved spouse had talked to each other. It was as if Mydei’s mind was constantly on things that neglected you heavily. Even a simple “How are you today”  would’ve been enough at this point. It hurt a lot. As if millions of daggers pierced you everytime Mydei walked past without saying anything. You were his lover for God’s sake.

Mydei was in the training room punching dummies with ease, letting them break into shards as they thumped onto the ground, his knuckles bleeding heavily from the constant fight.

You stepped in peeking through the small opening of the door with your wide gaze contemplating to yourself if you should walk in and say something or not. 

Eventual acceptance of the option ‘yes’ overthrew your mind so you walked in and Mydei’s keen senses picked up on it immediately.

“What is it.” His gruff reply made it sound like he was annoyed. (Which he probably was.) 

“You’ve been busy lately.” You mumbled out moving from one foot to another a bit nervous to how he was going to reply.

“Of course I am. You know my duties.” Mydei went back to smashing his fists against the solid wooden dummies as you winced at the sight and decided to walk up, up to him.

“I miss you.” You murmured out making Mydei freeze slightly and you could’ve sworn he softened. But as fast as it came it vanished. Mydei was back to his tense state. 

“You should know everything I deal with in a singular day.”

“But I’m your lover!” You exclaimed out flinching at your own tone of voice and words making Mydei turn looking at you in your eye for the first time. 

“That doesn’t matter.” He huffed out. Okay wow. Now it was your turn to be cruel.

“No wonder everyone finds you difficult.” You spat back leaving the door slamming heavily making the walls vibrate as Mydei stared dumbfounded at the shut door clenching his fists.

PHANION: (Accusations that result in anger.)

Phanion was a gentle soul with you. The perfect boyfriend in your eyes. Though as days passed you had a weird gut feeling. As if he was talking to someone other than you. Not possible. Right. The constant ‘they’re just a friend’ sounded like a lie. But you didn’t have any proof. Not yet at least.

Phanion was sitting on your local bench quietly reading as you walked up to him with a half lidded gaze of suspicion. Feeling your hard gaze Phanion sighed, shutting his book and standing up to match your height.

“Don’t give me that look.” Phanion murmured frowning with a pained expression on his face making you feel a hint of guilt. 

“It’s just that you’re constantly not letting me meet your friends at all. As if you’re hiding something from me.” Your fists clenched, eyeing up at Phanion as he narrowed his own gaze at your words.

“I do not let you meet them in order for them to not do anything to you darling.” Lies. You repeated in your head. You were being unreasonable. You knew that. But your gut feeling never failed you. 

“I don’t believe you.” You said spitefully making Phanion droop in hurt as you frowned at his reaction. You were expecting anger.

“Why don’t you trust me?” Phanion said holding your hand. He really had to pull that card out didn’t he.

“I do..I just.” As if knowing you were in the wrong, the only option left in your mind was to get out of the scene immediately. You let go of Phanions hand shakily leaving Phanion standing next to the bench alone as he stared at your slowly disappearing figure with a pained look.

ANAXA: (His anger towards the Gods.)

You knew your spouse's hatred towards the Gods. It never bothered you really because the people of Amphoreus worshipped titans rather than the Aeons above. Though Anaxa seemed to be solely focused on that singular emotion of hatred removing everything else in his life. Including you.

You were sitting in bed with Anaxa as he fixed up his eyepatch with his usual elegance as he eyed the several books in front of him that talked about the several elements the Gods gave down to the mortals.

“Anaxa.” You mumbled out tilting your head as Anaxa hummed out a reply as you frowned. “Why are you so focused on this subject?” 

Anaxa sighed at your words as if he was contemplating you speaking out on this matter and turned his gaze towards you. 

“You don’t know what these Aeons have done to our people. They’re vultures.” Anaxa spat out with seeming elegance despite his harsh words. 

“I feel like you’re forgetting about everything to focus on this.” You said a hushed whisper as Anaxa narrowed his gaze.

“That’s utter lies darling. I have enough mindspace to deal with everything.” You stared at him blankly. You doubted it at this point honestly.

“I feel like you’re lying.” Silence dawned between the two of you at your words as if rendering Anaxa speechless from your statement. Which added onto your doubt from his quietness. 

Silently Anaxa grabbed his things and left. 

Did he just storm off?

I post in like once a century oopsie (Since I don't know anything about the characters personalities I went off looks and the trailers)

[imaginarytree]

Flame Reaver!Phainon who freezes as soon as he lays eyes on you when he first heard of outlanders in Amphoreus because it had never happened before in any cycle

Flame Reaver!Phainon who immediately began following you around in the shadows to make sure you're no illusion created by the Titans to make him go mad

Phainon who clings to you and protects you like it's his whole purpose in life to do so

Phainon who falls in love with you all over again even if you aren't the you he knew

Flame Reaver!Phainon who drew his greatsword at everyone but never once pointed it at you despite the fact you were an "enemy"

Flame Reaver!Phainon who showed his identity to you trying to be a substitute of Phainon to get to be with you when he went in Nikador's trial

Astral Express!Reader who wasn't stupid to not know he wasn't the Phainon she spent time with yet kept it a secret because it wasn't her place to tell

Flame Reaver!Phainon who reminds Reader of the Kevin Kaslana of her world so she couldn't possibly let him go without pampering him a bit

Astral Express!Reader who gave him a semblance of the life he'd lost so long ago and reinforced his resolve to fullfill his goal

Flame Reaver!Phainon who's dull yet ever so striking blue eyes followed her every move to ensure her safety because he was afraid that if the cycle repeats again she might not appear before him again

Phainon who buried himself in your warm embrace after he failed the trial for the comfort only you were able to give him

Flame Reaver and Phainon who cannot bear to lose you who finally gave him hope

Astral Express!Reader who unintentionally became their sun who brightened their path once again

i'm insane for this man🥲

probably ooc but let me be delulu in peace

[pearl-blue-musings]

I’m thinking about Phainon

I’m thinking about how Phainon is a man with needs, a man who compartmentalizes his feelings, wants, and needs. He has no time for a serious relationship (if he did they might end up leaving or hurting him and he’s not ready for that). He wants to be able to get his rocks off and leave, thanking you for the time before he has to keep being a warrior and fighting for a better Amphoreous.

But he keeps visiting you. After every hard battle, every mundane day, every too long day, he finds himself returning to the holy city, walking up 3 flights of stairs and going into the house on the corner on the left. He doesn’t have time to care for any one person, he claims as he kisses you and picks you up to lead you to the bedroom. He’s a Chrysos Heir and the people come first, he repeats like a mantra as he places your calves on his shoulders. He says that everyone he’s ever been close to leaves or abandons him as he cuddles you close to his bare chest. Amphoreous comes first, you’ll be second he says.

When the Strife and titankin try to infiltrate Okehma, he runs to your home first. You’re safe, Phainon notes, before going back out to protect the city (you). Mydei rolls his eyes as they converse in the hero’s bath. “You talk about ‘em all the time, tell them how you feel before your big sacrifice.” Phainon’s eyes widen then. It hasn’t dawned on him that he’s made you a special person in his life, and it took his rival and friend to point it out. Something shifts inside the warrior and his demeanor changes.

When the black tide threatens again, he leaves the city without haste. He doesn’t think of you or the way you would kiss him goodbye. He doesn’t think of whispered tales of luck for him. He doesn’t think about your prayers and blessings to him. No, he thinks of his duty to his people and that is all that should be on his mind.

Phainon refuses to acknowledge the fact that you’re gone. Why did you have to be at home when the titankin attacked? He refuses to acknowledge the gifts left at your grave, thinking that when he goes to your place you’ll be there smiling and telling him, “welcome home, my love.”

[aventurineswife]

Hello! Hope you're doing well!

So I sorta got rejected for Valentine's this year :cc so I was wondering if I could ask for Aventurine, Phainon, Dan Heng and maybe also Anaxa helping the reader with cope with rejection

Hope you're having a good day! Please take your time!! 🫶

Every Closed Door Leads to a New Beginning

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Dan Heng x Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Rejection, Healing, Emotional Support, Slow Burn, Self-Discovery, Inner Strength, Self-Worth, Healing Journey.

Warnings: Mentions of rejection, Emotional vulnerability, Mild angst.

A/N: I'm so sorry to hear that 🫂 (sorry for the late response too😔🙏)

Tagslist: @themiddletenmasibling

Aventurine had seen countless deals collapse, empires crumble, and fortunes shift with the flick of a wrist. Rejection was just another spin of the wheel, an inevitable part of the game. But when he found you curled up in quiet devastation, he realized—this wasn’t just a failed wager to you. This was real, raw, and deeply personal.

He sighed, leaning against the edge of the table where you sat, hands folded in your lap. “Ah, rejection,” he mused, tilting his head dramatically. “A bitter drink, isn’t it? Like ordering the finest wine and finding it’s corked.”

You didn’t respond, only staring at your hands. The silence was an answer in itself. Aventurine’s usual smirk softened as he observed you—he could read people like open ledgers, and right now, you were on the verge of shattering.

“Tell me, darling,” he said, lowering himself to sit beside you, “what makes this so unbearable? Did you truly lose, or did you just not get the outcome you expected?”

You swallowed. “Does it matter? It still hurts.”

Aventurine clicked his tongue. “Of course it matters. If you lost, then you grieve and move on. But if it was only an outcome you didn’t anticipate, then all that’s changed is the direction of the wind.”

You shot him a glare. “So what? I should just pretend I don’t feel anything?”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, no, my dear. Feel it. Wallow in it, if you must. But don’t let it define you.” His fingers ghosted over yours, deliberate yet light. “You know, if I let every rejection—every ‘bad hand’—dictate my life, I’d still be groveling in the dirt, licking the boots of men who never deserved my loyalty.”

You looked up, startled by his uncharacteristic sincerity. He smiled, but this time, it wasn’t sharp or teasing. It was something… quieter.

Aventurine stood, brushing imaginary dust off his coat. “Come,” he offered, holding out his hand. “I’ll teach you a lesson more valuable than gold—how to turn rejection into opportunity.”

“…And if I don’t want to?”

His grin returned, brighter now. “Then I’ll simply stay here, bothering you with endless metaphors and tragic poetry until you beg for mercy.”

A small, reluctant smile broke through your sadness, and Aventurine knew—he’d won this round.

Phainon found you standing alone, the weight of rejection pressing down on you like an unseen force. Your shoulders were tense, your breathing uneven, and he knew—he recognized the look of someone fighting to keep their heart from crumbling.

Without a word, he stepped beside you, his presence warm and steady. “You don’t have to talk,” he said gently. “But if you do, I’ll listen.”

You hesitated before finally whispering, “I wasn’t enough.”

Phainon’s brows furrowed. “That’s not true.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “How would you know?”

He turned slightly, eyes searching yours. “Because rejection doesn’t mean you lack worth. It only means this wasn’t the path meant for you.” His voice carried an unwavering kindness, a softness that wrapped around you like a shield against the pain.

You exhaled shakily. “It still hurts.”

Phainon nodded. “Of course it does.” He reached for your hand, squeezing it gently. “But you’re allowed to hurt. You’re allowed to grieve. Just don’t believe, even for a second, that this defines you.”

You looked down, squeezing his hand back. “How do you deal with it?”

He smiled wistfully. “I remind myself that my worth isn’t determined by someone else’s acceptance. And when that’s not enough… I turn to those who see me for who I truly am.”

You met his gaze, and in that moment, you realized—Phainon saw you. Not as someone rejected, but as someone strong, someone deserving of love and understanding.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

Phainon’s smile grew, bright and unwavering. “Always.”

Dan Heng wasn’t one to offer words freely, but he noticed the way your movements had lost their usual energy, the way your eyes seemed dimmer. He didn’t ask. He didn’t pry. Instead, he simply placed a cup of tea beside you and sat down, his presence solid and unwavering.

You stared at the tea, then at him. “You heard, didn’t you?”

He nodded.

“…And?”

Dan Heng took a slow sip of his own tea before speaking. “It isn’t the end.”

You scoffed. “Sure feels like it.”

His gaze remained steady. “It’s not.”

Silence stretched between you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was… grounding. You found yourself tracing the rim of the cup, trying to gather your thoughts. “Why does it hurt so much?”

Dan Heng set his tea down. “Because you cared.” His voice was quiet but firm. “Because you invested a piece of yourself into something that didn’t return the way you hoped.”

You clenched your jaw. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

He looked at you for a long moment before answering, “Heal.”

You let out a shaky breath. “And if I don’t know how?”

Dan Heng shifted slightly, as if considering his words carefully. Then, he spoke with a certainty that made your chest ache.

“Then let me help.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the raw sincerity in his voice. Dan Heng wasn’t one for grand gestures or excessive reassurances, but this—this was real.

His presence alone was enough to remind you that even in rejection, you weren’t alone.

And for now, that was enough.

[sleepynoons]

Under the Same Sky

Mydeimos and you are husband and wife. In ancient China, where the heavens and earth exist in the same dimension, your husband slays beasts and demons to protect the Emperor and the Holy Nation. You yourself are closely related to divinity, though it is a relationship you wish to abandon, because the heavenly forces have only wished the worst upon you. And it seems nothing has changed, when the divine wants to destroy your and Mydei's relationship.

mydei x afab!f!reader, chinese mythology!au, nsfw

word count: ~17,400

cw: angst/slight comfort, minor character death, religious/spiritual imagery/themes/depictions, graphic descriptions of violence/blood/death, unprotected sex, marking kink, a singular instance of a blood kink, undertones of codependency, unintended phainon slander (truly just for the plot)

notes: to my beloved beta, @staraxiaa, i love you. truly. you have such a beautiful mind and an unmatched cadence to your words. thank you for all that you do for me, and this piece would not have come out of the vault without your encouragement and advice.

to readers, would soo appreciate reblogs, comments, and tags on this piece! i always put a bit of my soul in my writing, but truly, as a chinese person myself, this fic is especially special in my heart. i may post an author's note (update: you can find my thoughts here), but for now, i hope you are able to walk away from this piece knowing a bit about my heritage, culture, and mythology, though there may be several historical inaccuracies LOL

EVERYONE IN the village knows Mydeimos loves you and you love Mydeimos. In particular, the elders, those who often sit under the weeping willows at noon and fan themselves with their cheap linen imitations of the gongshan, laugh amongst themselves about the blush that had blossomed on Mydeimos’ face with your first appearance and has never left since, until the faint outlines of their grandchildren appear on the border between the horizon and the flat earth. Because who could believe that their village chief, a figure of authority and demand – though a son he will forever be remembered as in the villagers’ eyes and memories  – would ever look so pathetically adorable. But at this point, it is not a question anymore, moreso a teasing remark the people make in the presence of their adored chief.

And you, a girl of an unknown origin, from another collective li and li away, have also become a beloved member of this village. Even if you were not Mydeimos’ wife, your kindly manner, speaking always with a warming wisp of a smile, and the gentle curve of your upturned palm have won over the hearts of the villagers here.

It is clear to everyone that, by the decree of the heavenly gods above and their kindred spirits down on this earth in the forms of the water, leaves, wind, and destiny, that you and Mydeimos are for each other, to always be intertwined and inseparable in this vast, vast universe.

–

My love.

Mydei – just Mydei in your presence – twitches in his sleep, the magnetic pull of your voice coming from somewhere between the depths of his half-conscious, sleepy haze and the echoes from the four sun-stricken brick walls of your shared bedroom. You tantalize him already, when he has so much to do, so much to worry, so much to protect. After all, being one of the Emperor’s generals is no casual title, and one can tell because all he can boast about is the long hours of never-ending work and the deplorably large number of men he had to send to the infirmary the other day for they all lacked strength comparable to his. Indeed, he has much to be concerned about, yet in the spare moments of tranquility he is granted in the early morning, he allows himself to bask in both the warmth from the dawn sunlight that streams through the bamboo folding screens and radiates from your lulling tone.

Mydei.

He blinks awake, your silhouette discerned with more clarity with each closing and opening. You are holding the blanket up to your chest with one arm, while your other reaches over to stroke his hair, straightening out strands that have splayed themselves across his forehead, intermingling with the lengths of his eyelashes and paralleling the cut of his jawline.

You will be late.

Displeased at your reminder, he grunts and leans into your palm, the shape of it meant to caress and cradle his cheek. You do not make any noticeable reaction, except for the slight lifts at the corners of your lips. And you let him assume control of your hand, relinquish your time as well, so that you can connect with him before he sets off for another long day at work. Though work is never just work for someone as noble as Mydei, as even the trek to the Palace is fraught with danger, where assassins and mercenaries can be prowling in the shadows, waiting for the right timing to strike, attack, kill your lover, the chief of a village a slight ways away from the Capital, a general to the Emperor and this Holy Nation. 

Mydei then cups one of his hands over yours, and sits up with your fingers interlaced. With a quick glance, he is sated and actually smirks at the marks that bruise, bloom, and flourish across the delicate skin of your shoulders and neck. He leans over to kiss a spot that is undoubtedly the most stubborn of them all, the last that will fade from remembrance. 

I know. I am on my way now.

And, without another word, he swings his legs over the side of the bed and gets up to stride over to the washroom. You watch from your position, eyes lingering over the hardened and muscled build of his legs, the jagged scars that etch themselves into the broad scope of his back and sides, and the tanned lines that have begun to form on his arms, a sign that the height of spring has arrived. You wait until he has left the room to release a pleased hum before you, too, stretch and prepare yourself for your day.

In the courtyard, it is more than obvious that spring has fully encompassed the Holy Nation. The magnolia buds are green, hurried and eager in their pursuit for growth, and the scent of damp soil has begun to dissipate from the lack of overnight snow and frost. A young female servant, a recent addition to your handful of helpers, speaks in rapid, excited breaths as she serves you powdered cakes in bite-sized pieces and pours oolong tea into a brown porcelain cup, reciting news about the Emperor’s several princes she had overheard when she went to the market earlier today. You cannot help but chuckle as the servant takes a seat beside you, her arms propped up on the table with her face resting on her fist, humming as any young girl in love would. It just so happens that your head maid comes over at this moment and scolds the younger one.

Get up! Where are your manners? Apologize!

You simply wave them both off and ask the young servant to continue her relay. After all, she is not of age yet, so she can only daydream, and who are you to not indulge in such whimsies. She tells you of the second youngest prince, one of three in her generation, and she fantasizes of colliding into him in the streets as he makes an escape from the Capital. It is no surprise that the prince, along with all nine of his royal brothers, are mischievous, something that many Daoist priestesses have foretold as they ventured in and out of the Palace, prophecies that trace back even before the births of many of the Emperor’s sons. Yet the young servant’s fantasies are far too exaggerated and dependent on coincidence to ever materialize, so after a while, you begin to ask her other questions.

How are this season’s harvests? Are there murmurings of strife and conflict along the Northern border? Are the rabbits back?

She responds accordingly: seasonal goods, such as green peas and plums, seem to be more expensive and sparse than last year; no outbreaks so far, and people are anticipating a peaceful year ahead; the rabbits have begun to leave their burrows! In fact, regarding that last point, the servant urges you to finish your tea faster so you can visit the babies, and despite the exasperated protests from your head lady-in-waiting, you gulp the last dregs of your drink, bits of loose tea leaves included, before gathering your dress into your fists and rushing out of the pavilion.

Rabbits are cautious creatures. They are aware of their disadvantages and their being on the bottom of the food chain. And while this village that you have become a part of and that Mydei grew up in has long taken root in this region of the Holy Nation, the local flora and fauna have yet to fully adapt to the presence and caprices of humans. Where you are from, it is quite the opposite, in that the people of your origin have learned to assimilate with this earth, rather than the other way around. Where you are from, the rabbits are not afraid to come out of their burrows and shallow mounds to peer curiously – fearlessly – at their human neighbors.

As you and the young servant approach a lush corner of the courtyard, your steps decrease in stride and bumbling excitement. Instead, the two of you tread with silent passes, almost as if you were rabbits yourselves. And when the two of you make it to the edge of the walkway, you stand still and hold your breaths, waiting earnestly for even the most fleeting of a glimpse of the animals.

Since your youth, you have had a talent for disappearing, in the most neutral sense possible. With ease that a person of ego cannot bear to imagine or replicate, you are capable of shedding off all and any attachments you have to your person and melding into the sways of the wind, the humming of the bees, the thrums of the soil beneath your feet. You showed this ability of yours to Mydei before, albeit unintentionally. It was happenstance, something you had done out of habit when he had taken you out for a stroll along a manmade pond near the east end of the Capital and you were trying to feed a pair of restless magpies. You were only shaken out of your illusory state from the grounding pressure of his hand against your shoulder blade.

With an ability like that, you could easily conceal yourself and become an assassin.

You shrugged in response because, unlike him, there is no obligation for you to pursue the art or administration of death, and you figure you will never have to either.

This is all to say that, had it not been for the chirp of excitement from your lady-in-waiting, the rabbits would have approached you out of sheer intrigue. And as quickly as they shuffled out of their home, their grey and white whiskers and fluff ruffling in the breeze, their beady eyes take note of you and your servant before they recede back to safety. Your lady-in-waiting sighs with palpable adoration and lovesickness, and you promise her that there will be another chance tomorrow.

For the rest of the morning, you eat a quick breakfast under a pagoda, admiring the jasmine blossoms that flourish around the circumference, before making way to your fitting. Fittings only occur when special occasions are imminent, and with a banquet at the Palace in celebration of the fourth prince’s birthday occurring in two weeks, your other ladies-in-waiting have brought back several robes from the market for you to try on, no doubt on Mydei’s orders. There is a generous collection of blush, cream, and sunshine brocade and linen that await you, and as you dress and undress, tie and untie, spin and spin, it is unanimously agreed upon by all of your attendants that nothing will be returned. There is also a tray that holds various accessories, most notably a tasteful amalgamation of embroidered fans and gold-accented jinbu, and those are all kept as well. Of course, upon realizing that all of these valuables are yours and yours only, you pass on a message to one of Mydei’s servants to also visit the market with expectations of purchasing new cords for your husband’s hair, as well as a replacement for his worn yudai.

Then, it is lunch, but you tend to spend this time with the other villagers. With a parasol in one hand and a basket of tangerines and dried dates in the other, you head to the edge of the village, accompanied by two guards for formality’s sake. At the perimeter, where brick walls intercept a wide, trodden path, there are several benches and tables so that both residents and travelers alike can rest. When you first arrived, you, too, sat down here, gulping down a flask of water as you observed the hustle and bustle – not as busy as the Capital, but festive enough to indicate decent business and progress.

The elders and a few mothers already present greet you with dips of their chin. Usually, citizens are to greet those of nobility or high-ranking government positions with strict curtsies and bows, and while Mydei insists on the custom in speech, he does not uphold this rule quite as stringently. The reason for your visits are twofold: to know your people and to gather information. Though you have not yet born descendants of your and Mydei’s own, you have come to realize that children have sharp ears and loose mouths, fervent in their interminable search for entertainment and delight. The village is close enough for children to pursue education in the Capital if their parents so wished, so until many of them return, you pass your time underneath the arching path of the sun exchanging pleasantries and discussing matters.

By the time the little ones return, the sun is bathed in orange gold, half-concealed by the mountains you had once traversed, and there are but a few of the fruits remaining, just enough to quench their parched throats. As children do, they clamor to their respective guardians, complaining about the heat and how they are so sweaty and tired that there is no conceivable way they can continue to study later tonight. They also recognize you, and with a lightheartedness that more often occurs between friends of the same generation, they whine for your treats. You laugh as you hand the last pieces out, as you would when feeding cabbage bits to rabbits.

Upon your return home, the moon already having replaced the sun as the night’s guardian, you dismiss your guards, so you can bathe while the rest of the household eats. You much prefer solitude when you are in a vulnerable state, and your ladies-in-waiting are no exception to this preference, even if they are no stranger to a woman’s body. Sat on a stool, you strip yourself, letting all the layers collapse in a disheveled pile, and remove any pins and beaded strings from your hair. By now, your servants have become familiar with your ways, so there is already steaming water in the bronze bathtub, so you directly step in and submerge yourself up until your neck.

The hot water is not very pleasant against your warm skin, but you stay regardless, as spring evenings can still be unforgiving and biting. You watch as the water sloshes against the solid walls of the tub, causing the steam to waver before resuming its vertical ascendance, and do nothing even when a few splashes escape and drip down the exterior. After all, this time is allotted for you to think, nothing more. Your thoughts are preoccupied with declining trade with farmers outside of the Capital, many citing long-lasting droughts and fires as primary culprits, and there have been a sharp incline of those suffering from heat strokes and asthma. Some have even mentioned hallucinations of more than a single sun in the sky, and while you are not one to be affected by superstitious or mythical stories, you do find it odd that there have been multiple accounts of such a phenomenon from various distinct folks. These are pieces of information you must report to Mydei, though it is too early to draw any actionable conclusions.

You arise from your bath half an hour later, when the water has simmered down to a lukewarm. You dry yourself, adorn a simple beige gown with a matching robe over it, and make your way to the kitchen. By the moon’s position, if all goes smoothly, your husband should return in about two hours, more than enough for you to prepare his dinner.

Although you are not obligated to cook, you have sensed Mydei’s hesitation when it comes to consuming food that is prepared by those he is unfamiliar with. He trusts you and the villagers, but many of your household’s servants are from the Capital or elsewhere. Therefore, for both his sanity and safety, you have taken on the responsibility to provide him meals so that he may eat in peace at home. Besides, it is also an opportunity for the two of you to simply be together.

Just as you have set the last plate onto the dining table, Mydei returns, lamellar plates thunking and chain mail jostling with every heavy step he takes. It is a heaviness that resounds in your heart, for it is a reflection of his fatigue and, more importantly, the weight of the responsibilities he bears.

He does not come to greet you, not yet. He does not like appearing in front of you with his armor still on. He wants to avoid bringing in the stench of blood and grief into this abode he shares with you – does not want to taint you, his person of comfort and solace, with the violence you have no desire to take part in. Though, try as he might, deep down he knows it is to no avail, as his hands, the same ones he uses to touch and feel you, are already stained with death.

In the small shed, surprisingly compact and spare for a master of many weapons, he shrugs everything off with laborious groans. As each weighted iron slab and scratchy sheet of chain mail drops to the ground, Mydei lavishes in the slow regain of freedom in his movement. Lastly, he pulls off his helmet, and with a quick rub of his sleeve against a permanent smudge, he sets it on top of a drawer that contains duplicates of his uniform, first aid, and short daggers. He does not linger, and instead, swivels around to head to where you are.

When Mydei rounds the corner to stand in front of the kitchen entrance, double doors swung wide open, he cannot help but pause in his tracks, just a few paces away from joining you at the table in the center of the room. You peer at him from your seat, your chin resting in a divot formed by your palms, and also observe him, his face shrouded in shadows.

It is not so much a staring contest as it is a reverent yearning for one another. For no reason at all, it seems the two of you have a habit of practicing restraint – hesitation – before allowing yourselves to indulge in each other.

Come sit beside me.

I will. Let me admire you first.

And so you wait.

From Mydei’s perspective, you are the most beautiful at this time of the night. It is not to say that you are not in the morning, when you are still slumbering beside him with your hands splayed across his bare chest, or when you are pinned underneath him, a sinful image of you in your most disheveled state – his stained robe splayed out underneath your figure, your lungs heaving with pitched whines, your knees trembling with indecision as you fail to choose between spreading yourself open so that he can enter deeper or closing, and thereby restricting his movement, because the pleasure is unbearable. You are always his most precious, but he believes you are at your best when you are working towards an objective. And since your marriage, you have honored his same priority in protecting his people, and he will forever admire this determination of yours.

Truthfully, he never required such a sense of responsibility in his wife. In fact, before he met you, he had never imagined shouldering this duty with anyone else, let alone a stranger from somewhere far beyond. But you are no longer a stranger, and now, during your shared dinners, you are able to speak of this place as if you grew up here, alongside him and all the other villagers. You speak with incredible depth and acute intuition, and fortified by the precision and clarity in your words, he cannot help but think that, despite your personal aversions towards leadership and confrontation, you deserve to stand beside him in the ranks.

The oil lamps and candles on the dining table brighten your face with a gentle golden glow. He can see the flames’ flickering in your eyes, and behind you, he can hear the crackle of smoldering wood and charcoal. He walks over and takes a seat beside you, noticing the faint traces of fire and herbs that linger in your hair and at your shoulders. Pressing the side of his thigh against yours, he picks up his chopsticks and begins to eat, a gesture for you to initiate the conversation.

There is noticeable delay. We can no longer ignore the growing connection between the slowdown of trade with the recurring delusions of multiple suns in the sky. 

Do you think it could be divine punishment?

If we had incurred the wrath of Tian, we would have long suffered, and the Emperor would have justified the recent happenings. Our deities have no interest or patience for prolonged torture.

We will need to wait then. We need to know more, or else we will be searching in vain.

No.

You set down your bowl and look straight ahead, peering outside at the courtyard – or rather, at a point somewhere beyond the walls of the courtyard. Mydei can feel your presence wax and wane, expand and recede, until it settles down into a light thrum, akin to the tranquil qi of lotus petals and mossy creeks. He can still see you, without a doubt, but he knows that if he had not been in this room with you right now, he would have never been able to find you here without incredible effort.

It is magical, truly, how you can quiet your presence. In his many years of training and fighting, he has met only a handful of incredible soldiers who can do the same. He was only able to gain this ability himself after maturing as a person and facing the near-death consequences of overwhelming, unbound bloodlust in the midst of combat. That is not to claim that you did not learn in the same ways, but he cannot confirm nor deny because, for better or worse, you never speak of the past. Otherwise, outside of the army, he only knows of the high priests and priestesses that can also adopt a kind of otherworldly aura during their rituals and prayers.

He chews slowly, more preoccupied with observing your profile. Your features are unperturbed, essentially blank, and there is an unfocused fog in your eyes, sharply distinct from the ambition burning within your irises at the beginning of dinner. You shiver, probably to your own ignorance, and he places his things down so he can take off his robe and wrap your shoulders with it. To his surprise, and contentment, you instinctively lean over to rest your shoulder against his without disrupting your thoughts. Just as you wait for him, he waits for you.

By the time the shortest of the three candles, once a sixth of its original length, is about to extinguish, you come to, and the light in your eyes returns as well.

Innate divinity – not to be conflated with the ability to call forth divine powers or forces – is only granted to a few select individuals. More than likely, there will be no need to search the common folk.

Let us begin at the Palace.

Will the Emperor take to this idea?

Perhaps he already has conjectures of his own. I shall request an audience.

Divinity is an intricate, mysterious subject. Deeply embedded in the belief systems and cultural underpinnings of this Holy Nation, most people are naturally mesmerized and fearful of Tian’s deities and their abilities. Even those who are born with divine abilities, namely the Emperor and a select few of his children, and those who can invoke divinity through sacred objects and incantations, such as priests, priestesses, and monks, advise all to be cautious of incurring heavenly wrath. 

When you first heard of the hallucinations, you thought it to be the aftershocks of severe heatstroke. Then, when many more farmers and traders began to verify the sighting of various suns, it became clear that the divine was involved because, when individuals who have no capacity for divinity are exposed to these mystical forces, their minds and behaviors can be continuously affected. That must mean they must have come in contact with a mythic beast or creature.

The deities are known for having many children and several other distant brethren, some of which exist on the earth, roaming around as Buddhist guardians, such as the regal Dapengs, or man-eating snake monsters, the most infamous being the nine-headed Jiuying that terrorized seafarers for decades until Mydei slayed it. In this case, an immediate possibility was the return of the boar demon Feng Xi who often wreaked havoc upon farmlands. Feng Xi was also subdued by your husband a few years ago, but it would be no surprise if it were to appear again, typical of the inexplicable nature of divine beasts. But upon investigations of the ruined farmlands by their respective prefectural ministers, there were no signs of terrifying waste or death, only the usual symptoms of a long-lasting drought and ashy remains from fires caused by unrelenting dry winds. With further consideration, you also know that it is impossible, from personal observations and experiences, to invoke a heavenly force powerful – brutal – enough to cause a disaster of this magnitude. In other words, by process of elimination, the problem has to either be the direct doing of a human blessed with divinity or, even worse, a creature or deity from Tian themselves. 

You can only hope it is not the latter.

Your concern must be showing on your face, as Mydei leans over to rub his thumb firmly against the apple of your cheek.

No more. Come back to me.

You nod, knowing when to be obedient. When Mydei speaks to you in this tone, sympathetic yet earnest, you know he is looking out for you, grounding you before you can fully lose yourself. While you have impressive mental strength and foresight, you lack an attachment to the present, and without supervision, there is a very real risk of you drifting far, far away, disappearing as you once did when you were young.

Your husband takes you by the hand and guides you back to your shared bedroom. The brief walk is silent, save for your footsteps and the occasional greeting from a guard. The two of you part momentarily when you enter the chamber, as Mydei heads to the side to open the window screens to allow streams of moonlight into the room, while you take your seat on the center of the bed. It is not cold even as a slight breeze filters into the room, for his robe still shields your back and shoulders. However, you elect to take it off, and Mydei watches you strip, not just his clothing but also your layers underneath, from where he is standing.

The moon always manages to cast a romantic light on all that it befalls, and through the midst of your moans, his pants, and the joining of your bodies, over and over and over again, it generously extends its rays so that the two of you are able to have a clear view of each other in your otherwise pitch black room. Surprisingly, there is also a warmth to the moonlight, a soothing and comforting quality to it, that makes you feel as if time is passing slower than it actually is. In this prolonged moment, you can pinpoint every single movement and sensation between you and Mydei – his steeled grip around the base of your neck as he presses you tightly against his chest, the curling of your toes with every deep thrust, the crescendo of his heartbeat against yours. In this room, there is only you and him, isolated and ignorant to the rest of the world – the universe, even –, and defying all rules of space and physics, you solely focus on extending the present for as long as you can, while Mydei struggles to convey to you just how deeply obsessed and enamored he is with you. No one can intervene in this proud, unabashed act of intimacy, and if either you or Mydei dared, both of you would even describe your shared bond as sacred. And, especially for you, you know to not use that word so carelessly.

And when Mydei lays you down to peel off your legs and instead press them down, as close to your ears as possible, he goes impossibly harder and deeper. In this space, there are only the two of you, though you are only seeing him, and he is only seeing you. There are no thoughts or even carnal desires, just a fundamental appreciation and unconditional loving for the other. You whimper – my love – as he presses his sweat-stricken forehead against yours, and he responds with a passionate roll of his hips and a scathing bite that draws blood at your left shoulder. With your arms wrapped around his head, you keep him there and leave him with no choice but to continue making love to you until you unravel at your climax with your teeth clenching, thighs shaking, mind spinning, soul soaring. Mydei soon follows, piercing his nails into your hips to mark you on the outside, releasing within you to mark you on the inside, and between labored rasps of your name, he smears his lips and tongue over yours in hopes of memorizing your addictive taste, your delighted sounds, and your passionate touch.

The two of you stay intertwined, even when neither of you are reeling from the impact of your highs. To part would be to abandon this private realm, which would mean returning to your normal tendencies of hesitance and restraint, and even though all of this will repeat once again tomorrow, you lack the patience to wait, still imprisoned in the moon’s warped, elongated trajectories of time and space.

Despite your defiance, the two of you fall asleep, consumed by wariness and longing, and another day of your life passes.

–

The Emperor has ten sons and countless more daughters. Today marks the seventeenth birthday of the fourth prince, and as expected, it is a grand event. Earlier, at the celebration’s reception, there were hundreds of dancers in neat rows, all flicking their sleeves and arching their fingertips to the rhythm of the Capital’s grand orchestra, also perfectly organized and harmonious as a whole. Following the conclusion of the performance, guards, servants, and lower-ranking officials dash back and forth and around the expanse of the Palace to ensure the undeterred progression of the fourth prince’s birthday party, while higher-ranking officials and generals, along with their accompanying guests, mill about before filing to their respective seats along the two columns of tables laid out parallel to the walls of the central courtyard. In the center front, there is a raised stage with a constructed overhang large enough to accommodate the Emperor, the Empress Dowager, and all ten sons. The platform and steps are entirely covered by a luxurious red carpet with golden floral patterns, and from Mydei’s seat, you can marvel at the delicate porcelain dishware set on top of masterfully carved wooden countertops. You are not used to such lavish displays of wealth and luxury because, although Mydei has long been one of the Emperor’s most loyal and trustworthy generals, that does not necessarily mean you are invited to visit the Palace often. Therefore, as the two of you wait for the birthday ceremony to officially begin, you try to sit as still as possible in order to marvel and take in your surroundings.

During this period, many governmental and bureaucratic figures visit your and Mydei’s seat to say their greetings and make elucidating small talk. Despite assuming his role as one of the Holy Nation’s protectors, your husband cannot abandon certain pet peeves of his, and he shuts down all but one of these conversations with dry responses that reveal nothing of his thoughts or opinions. The only official that he properly responds to is the Head of the Security Bureau, a man by the name of Phainon. From past dinner conversations, you remember Mydei mentioning this man but with the questionable nickname “Deliverer” instead. It was in reference to Phainon’s previous position under the Central Secretariat, though the reason behind his transfer to the Security Bureau continues to remain a secret even to your husband. Regardless, it is obvious that Mydei only tolerates this man at best, so you make sure to listen intently to their conversation.

Mydei! Rare to see you so festive!

It is Mydeimos for you, Deliverer.

Ha, yes, of course.

What is the Security Bureau doing here? What happened to keeping a low profile?

No worries, it is only me, and almost everyone here still believes I remain under the Secretariat. I am also here because I have news to share with you.

Hurry, then.

Phainon does not, though. He hums and begins to look around the courtyard. For a moment, you sense his gaze, but it does not linger for more than a full second. With a shake of his head, your husband sighs and takes deep gulps of water to keep himself preoccupied until the Security Head finally carries on.

He will want to speak to you, when it is your turn to congratulate the prince.

Regarding what?

But Phainon shrugs, and this time, there is no hint of evasion or distance. He truly does not know. But he does leave Mydei with one last piece of instruction.

You will be last in line.

After a few more teasing remarks, Phainon bids the two of you farewell, and from your periphery, you watch him disappear from the south gate.

Before dinner, all of the officials present are to line up in terms of rank and nobility, and, one by one, greet the Emperor, Empress Dowager, and the princes, as well as present their gifts. As per military customs, Mydei requested a new sword sheath of untarnished gold be made for the fourth prince, to represent unwavering courage and honorable victory, so that shall be your offering. However, these interactions usually do not last for more than a few minutes, the last ones usually even more rushed, to ensure that everyone gets their turn and are not too irritated by mealtime, so you wonder how exactly the Emperor will relay his message. Furthermore, you find it suspicious that Phainon requested your husband, one of the generals under direct supervision of the Emperor, to place himself last.

Alas, you find yourself in another situation where you cannot draw sound conclusions. But now that Phainon has left and no other officials have the gall to approach Mydei, you can actually enjoy the ongoing celebrations with your husband.

You fill his tea cup and then yours, though you take a sip first. When you look up at him, he nods in affirmation before drinking himself. The walls, you notice, are a rustic red-brown, though much of it has been covered up by the willows and persimmon trees that were moved specifically for tonight’s event. Scattered between the trunks of the trees are gathered shrubs of all kinds, from batches of orange peonies to short stalks of bamboo to clusters of purple asters. You wonder if you could bring back a few roots or seeds with you, but with one sharp glance from Mydei, you discard the idea immediately.

Your husband knows that you are bored, though, so he offers some reprieve.

There are rumors that the fourth prince might not even make it to his own birthday party.

I am not surprised. I have heard the Emperor’s sons are quite rowdy.

I believe Phainon is here to ensure that all of the princes arrive on time and participate through its entirety. I must say, it is quite entertaining to see him chase after a few brats.

Mydei.

Do not worry. The Emperor is understanding. Besides, I am sure he wholeheartedly agrees at the current moment.

Oh?

Mydei raises his chin, staring up at the night sky. It is hard to make out any one star due to the outstanding numbers of torches, lamps, and fires distributed around the courtyard, but it is not like Mydei was looking at the stars in the first place. The two of you are different in this way. You often seek the world when you think, looking outwards for celestial signs, while Mydei often becomes more introspective with his musings. Even when it looks like he is searching for something, he most likely is not, as he believes all of the answers he needs are usually, perhaps with some effort required, within one’s grasp.

Phainon has aided our investigations of the Palace. He is confident that the culprit is not to be found here.

Your fist digs into the sleeves of your gown.

There are not even signs of collusion?

You know the deities would never stoop to that level. They do not need the help of mortal intelligence or treachery. Regardless, the Emperor has been made aware of the situation, and is quite preoccupied with it. His sons’ constant running about and lack of any sort of drive or initiative is certainly not doing him any good either.

Pursing your lips, you glance at your husband, only to find him already staring at you.

Fear not, my wife. I have slain products of the divine before.

His eyes seem to glow with fierce intensity. The red and orange streaks in his eyes are more noticeable, not because of the myriad torches surrounding your table, but rather because his eyes are widening out of enthusiasm. You scowl, disapproving of his evident bloodthirstiness, yet despite your opposing morals, you slip a hand into his hold. By instinct, he begins to press at the pads of your fingertips, while rubbing circles into your palm. If it were any other day, any other moment, his physical affection would soothe and reassure you. Unfortunately, as Mydei has just confirmed the worst of your suspicions, the fear taking root in the pit of your stomach has already begun to sprout and overwhelm the rest of your emotions.

Surely there is no need to jump into a fight.

Huh, you propose a negotiation? Our deities already know what the consequences of their actions are – they do not care to change their ways, even with such knowledge. What makes you think their minds are still susceptible to reconsideration?

Perhaps some of them do care.

Your husband snorts. To be honest, he is a little surprised by your response. Neither of you are particularly devout, and throughout his many years of knowing you at this point, he knows you are not fond of the divine. So for you to defend them, to the extent of betting on their fickle and spare goodwill, is unusual.

It is not up to me, my wife. I act based on what the Emperor asks of me.

Something in you – a gut instinct, a trained intuition – tells you that you will find out the Emperor’s decision by tonight.

After another half hour, composed of more light-hearted conversation and small bites of snacks to whet your appetite, a gong finally sounds, its ringing reverberating throughout the entirety of the Palace. You feel your bones quake with each vibration, and only after its last echoes have died off does your body regain stillness. The Emperor’s secretary makes his way to the center of the stage, and with a deep bow, commands everyone to rise for the Imperial Family. Everyone stands and bows, faces parallel to the floor, until all members of the Imperial Family settle into their seats, which the secretary confirms several minutes later. Afterwards, you all line up.

Other officials have curious looks on their faces as they see you and Mydei turn away from the stage. One even asks where the two of you are headed, wondering if you have lost your minds and are intent on abandoning the ceremony, but neither of you respond and continue toward the back of the line. 

You and Mydei do not speak for the entire hour that it takes for your turn to come. The whole time, nervous and intimidated stares are directed your way, but both of you could care less, simply standing side by side, close enough for your sleeves to brush against and overlap each other.

When the rest of the officials have returned to their seats, only you and Mydei remain, standing a few feet away from the steps that lead up to the raised platform. With a nod from the secretary, Mydei leads you forward, always a step ahead, and when the two of you stand level with the Imperial Family, you get on your knees and raise your clasped hands in front of your dipped heads.

Good evening, your Highnesses. Congratulations to the Fourth Prince, for reaching his seventeenth birthday. We hope the prince continues to live a prosperous, fortunate, and long life, and I present this sword sheath, a product of the finest metals and months’ worth of labor, a tool that we hope he will use as he prepares to lead this Holy Nation. We pay our deepest respects to the Imperial Family.

An attendant takes the sheath from Mydei’s outstretched arms. Usually, one would be dismissed shortly after presenting their gift, but the secretary has yet to tell either of you to rise. Instead, you hear the sound of a chair’s legs rubbing against the carpet’s fur, along with padded footsteps that stop right in front of your husband.

General Mydeimos, you have done incredibly in serving me, and ultimately, this Holy Nation. Your loyalty is not to be questioned.

You recognize this voice. It is jaded yet firm, gentle but irrefutable. The Emperor is telling you his decision.

I want to make an announcement to all that are present, to heed my intent and my resolve. This Holy Nation has coexisted with and lived under the guidance of Tian, but it has not always been a harmonious or even peaceful endeavor. As Emperor, it is my sworn duty, an oath I have undertaken since the day of my inauguration, to protect my people, including all of you, and I can promise you that, throughout these many years under my rule, Tian and I are connected and that I have been in constant search to make a more serene coexistence – a symbiosis, if you will – possible. However –

It seems the Palace and everything within it unanimously sucks in a quavering breath.

– it has become apparent that the heavens have no interest in granting us such serenity. Of course, by no means is this speech of mine a declaration of war or defiance. Rather, I believe this burden I am about to share with you is, in fact, a challenge for this Holy Nation, and one that will be undertaken by a representative of my choosing: Mydeimos. General Mydeimos, please rise.

As much as you would love to raise your head and stare at Mydei like everyone else, you have not been granted permission to lift your head, so you can only continue to heed the Emperor’s message carefully, trying to discern any subtle implications while continuing to pay attention to the words that follow.

For the many years that he has served me, General Mydeimos has become a pillar in the Holy Nation’s defenses. He has slain many of Tian’s earthbound descendants, protecting this land from the destruction of loose spirits and evil demons. Under his watchful gaze, he had confirmed the prophetic fragments I was receiving from Tian, that it is part of this Holy Nation’s fate that we are to face our doom if we remain motionless and ignorant. My people, hear me now, and listen to me carefully, as this message of mine is not meant to inflict any unnecessary fear or anxiety. However, the heavens have told me, as I am telling you, that if nothing is done, the entire world will be burned to its core by the manifestation of ten suns. No human, no animal, no plant will survive the onslaught of ten more suns, no ocean or lake or sea can withstand the fire of ten more suns, not even Tian’s earthbound descendants will be spared.

For this most inauspicious prophecy, I must apologize, on behalf of my ten sons, for their continuous mischief and negligence have been deemed the cause of this impending tragedy. Indeed, Tian has whispered as such in my mind. This Holy Nation deeply understands the various attitudes our deities have towards humans. Some are indifferent, some are intensely curious. It seems this impending tragedy has come about from the latter. My ten sons, this Holy Nation’s royal princes, have inspired the same mischief and negligence in ten of Yudi’s sons. They aspire to experience the same carefree play that my sons have gone away with – escaping the Palace, tricking the innocent to satisfy their personal greed, disappearing for extended periods of time. This behavior has never been acceptable in the Imperial Family, yet despite our fervent attempts to curb their behaviors, Yudi’s sons have already seen enough. 

There is now more than one sun in the sky, there is no mistake to that. We will continue to see more and more suns appear, and by the tenth, we will all perish. We must not cast doubt on this matter anymore, because the severity of this issue is life-threatening.

But, again, need I remind all that are present that I do not wish to embed an unjustified sense of fear or anxiety in any of you. The reason I have called upon all of you is because I would like all that are present to bear witness to this heavenly oath that General Mydeimos will take.

You cannot help but gasp, a sharp, harsh intake of breath that almost causes you to sputter and cough. But, even when the world feels like it is falling down on you, you manage to bear the pain, and you stifle it with tears gathering in your burning eyes.

General Mydeimos, there is no end to your remarkable feats in the military, and we are grateful for all that you have done. However, this ask of mine is one of a difficulty I can promise you have never faced before, and you must know, it could be the last task you ever undertake. Knowing all of the risks, I still ask you to take the following oath: I, General Mydeimos, under the watchful eye of the people of this Holy Nation, the Emperor, and all of Tian who are interested, I pledge to take down all but one of the suns, even at the cost of my own life.

It feels impossible to breathe. It seems, no matter how you try to escape, how far you run away, or where you disappear to, the divine will always catch up to you, pulling you away from your loved ones, and the other way around. Hot streams of tears pour down your cheeks, and the only way to prevent yourself from making any noise is to bite down on your lower lip, until your jaws are locking and your teeth are piercing through the thin flesh. Your clasped hands shudder violently, not only from the exhaustion of holding them up for so long, but also from how tightly they are gripping onto each other. Your knuckles are without a doubt strained, and your fingernails are digging into the backs of your hands. Your ears ring with deafening silence, while straining to hear Mydei’s response, yet you also do not want to listen, fearful because you know that, even if he had a choice, he would always agree to a brutal fight.

Without a beat of hesitation, your husband, chief of your village, a general of this Holy Nation, speaks.

I, General Mydeimos, under the watchful eye of the people of this Holy Nation, the Emperor, and all of Tian who are interested, I pledge to take down all but one of the suns, even at the cost of my own life.

Despite the crescendo of applause, the drums, the gong, you hear nothing. You are not sure how it is that you manage to bow to the Emperor, make your way down from the stage, and return to your seat alongside Mydei’s, but to be honest, you do not care how you did any of those things. All you can think about is that, once again, your loved one is being separated from you, all because of the heavens and the divine, and even if his hand is clutching onto yours at this moment, so tight that you can no longer feel the tips of your fingers or the center of your palm, he has never felt farther away.

–

There is no more of your routine with Mydei. He is taken away at the end of the birthday party to begin making preparations for his conquest, leaving you to return to the village alone. He does not visit, can only make time to send concise messages, but he does promise you that he will return the night before he is scheduled to leave.

This is not Mydei’s first conquest, but it is his first conquest that you are dreading, to say the least. It is difficult to encapsulate the extent of your mental anguish because the resurfacing of past traumas, of memories you are insistent on forgetting, is a dark, murky sensation. It is asphyxiating, but you do not know that you are being choked until it is too late, past the point of return. You are no different from a sleeping mouse in the coiled chokehold of a starving snake, and there is nothing to save you, not even to witness your death. Part of you knows this is a globalization of an internal anxiety, as Mydei has not been slain. He is well and alive presently, but that does not answer your deepest concern: will he survive? Even if you sought out divine signals as you had once routinely done over a decade ago, you have been taught that it is taboo to seek the fate of an individual. Fate can be consulted for villages, the weather, long-term wealth, but to determine the death of somebody, even an important figure, is strongly discouraged as there is no use in disturbing one’s mind over a matter that has been set in stone since the birth of this universe.

Not that any of that is relevant. You are sure the divine, even the weakest of Tian’s spirits, would not heed your call, would pay no mind to a trivial woman that had, a long time ago, abandoned her position as a high priestess, and in turn, her prolific ability to invoke divinity. Had you remained at the convent and grown into your role as high priestess, perhaps only then would they give you a fraction of their time, but then, in that case, you would not be praying for Mydei’s safety, but rather for the protection of this Holy Nation as a whole.

There is no particular reason for why you have hidden your past from Mydei or the villagers, other than to save face. After all, no one would believe in the loyalty or commitment of a traitor. Regardless, now that there is established trust, you staunchly believe there is no need to share distasteful matters, like your pathetic past. At this moment, everyone should prioritize Mydei, as well as ensuring the operations of the village during his absence.

Mydei finds you not in the dining room, but in his office at his desk, with a candelabra burning away, as if you are prepared to work the whole night. You are combing through a few scrolls that were once shelved, the old texts he used to pore over when he was training to become village chief. It is not that you are a stranger to their contents or to the duties of the village chief. It is simply that, when you are uneasy, you tend to return to the very basics, to instill confidence within yourself that there is a logical rationale behind your actions and decisions. He knocks on the office doors and watches through the parted screen window as you scramble up from your seat from surprise. He chuckles, but had there been any listeners, they would know those were half-hearted at best.

We need to talk.

It is comforting, though, that there remain some things that will never change. Even if you are not honest, Mydei will always face you with a straightforward attitude, and compared to before, he feels more present, confirming that he is, in fact, standing in front of you, when he loops your arm through his. You let him guide you away from the office and to your shared bedroom, where you can, for the last time in a while, immerse yourselves in this space dedicated only to the two of you.

On the bed, he pulls you into a tight, engulfing embrace. With his chest molded against your arched back, his legs spread out to barricade your form, his chin atop your left shoulder where the bite mark once was, the two of you parse through all and any matters.

There will be a caravan arriving in a month’s time.

The north west gate needs to be rebuilt.

We should consider extending trade to some of the towns in the south.

You will miss it when the peaches are in season.

Be sure to visit Grandma Li. She tends to forget to take her medication.

Do not forget to rest your arm. Feng Meng will not take it easy on you, even if you are his general and him your soldier. You will always be his master first.

When you need me, look up at the moon, because I will also be gazing at it. Never forget that we are forever under the same sky.

The moonlight is especially consoling that night. Unlike his usual tendencies to dominate and overwhelm, your husband lets you set the pace, and atop him, he watches you surge up and down, the moon’s beams illuminating your damp skin, your parted lips, and your glossed eyes. Your breasts, hips, thighs ripple with every unforgiving drop of your body onto his, and his cock pierces you deeply in turn, reaching and hitting spots that cause you to see stars. He never fails to make you feel fulfilled, but tonight, you are voracious, and you just want more, more, more of him. You want to embed pieces of yourself into his body, so that throughout his campaign, no matter how long it lasts, he will never once waver when he thinks back to your touch, your scent, your love. As you continue riding him, you run your hands over his sturdy form, letting your fingers trace the divots of his muscles, the fat of his chest, the red streaks of tattoo that paint his arms. It is also so that you will never forget, drawing an illustrative map of his body so that in your times of loneliness, anxiety, and want, you also have something of his to depend upon. Perhaps you have forgotten how to live without your husband, but that is a subject for introspection later. In the present, you decide to accelerate your movements and apply more force with every exerted rise and fall.

Eventually, you collapse forward because by no means do you have as much stamina as your husband, but you urge yourself to push forward nonetheless and resort to more shallow lifts and dramatic swirls of your hips. With your face buried against the underside of his chin, you begin to mouth at his neck and Adam’s apple, the rumble of his groans and hisses traveling and vibrating straight through the thin skin of your lips. When it looks like your husband’s exhibiting a significant amount of restraint, with the way his head keeps shaking side to side and his hands grip onto your thighs with shackling strength, you cannot help but smirk, ready to give him his release that he is so desperately delaying. You litter a line of kisses down to his collarbones, and after a few laves of your tongue, as if to smooth and placate him, you bite down, sinking your teeth into the juncture where his neck and shoulders meet, clamping down so hard with the intent to punish, to instill guilt, to kill his fighting spirit.

Normally, you would never do such a thing. You have no interest in tying your partner down or forcing them to sacrifice the people and things they love and enjoy. But since he has granted you so much selfishness already, you might as well go the full way and make him really understand the state he has put you in. For, even upon reflection, you know it in your bare, raw soul that you will never know life without your husband. Where he goes, you follow. If he is alive, you will be, too. But if he were to die, then your time will also have come.

Your husband cries out loud with a wild shout of your name, arms flying to enclose themselves around your figure out of both surprise and overstimulation, and with a spontaneous jerk of his hip upwards, his cock collides with your core and slams into that spot, the one that always has you ripping apart at the seams and screaming for mercy, pulling you up to your euphoric high with him. Ironically, it feels as if you are falling from Tian, soaring through the sky while being unable to breathe, a coursing pleasure followed by a stinging, bittersweet pang. You do not even realize you are sobbing until your husband muffles your wails with his mouth, swallowing your grief and despair down with his own fears, of which he definitely has but will never voice.

Mydei is not used to seeing you so sentimental. You are more aloof and reserved, so he is not as practiced with handling your outbursts as he should be. But even he knows that this torrential surging of your emotions is really a broken heart personified. You need him to know that your heart is being torn and cracked and smashed by the inevitable reality of his leave, and he knows you are telling him that only he can fix you by coming back in one piece and with a sound mind.

For the remainder of the night, he holds you impossibly closer, one hand always keeping your face to his chest, the other always wound around your waist, his legs always tangled with yours. And before he falls asleep, he looks out the window, gazing up at a sliver of the starry sky, and prays to the moon to cast its gentle, assuring light upon you every dusk he is gone. Despite his personal gripes with the divine, he is convinced that, with the way it has never failed to make you look so mesmerizing and delicate underneath its glow, the moon will continue to bask you with its nurture and protection for as long as it takes for him to return, and he is soothed by that thought, because someone needs to look out for you in his absence.

By the early dawn, he is ready to leave. The two of you stand at the entrance to your abode, and with a chaste kiss to your forehead, he finally parts from you, distancing himself in slow motion. You watch, rooted to your spot, as he gets on his horse, relishes in one last longing gaze, and sets off. He rides away without looking back, and when he is out of sight, you, too, return to your bedroom without even the faintest sign of indecision or doubt.

–

Mydei returns not the following summer, but the summer after, right when the peach blossoms have begun shedding to make way for the green buds that will, in two to three weeks’ time, fruit. There is no fanfare or parade, not even an announcement to notify you of his arrival. In fact, for the little over two years since his departure, you were not informed of any aspect of his campaign from official channels. It did not matter, though, when everyone was able to keep track of his progress with every morning that passed.

Barely a month after his leave, you woke up with sweat soaking through your clothes and blankets, as if you had remained in a bath with your clothes on for several hours. You made it a habit to leave your windows open every night, but had you woken up that morning any later, you would have been sunburnt to the point of permanent scarring from the three suns that were just beginning to rise in the sky, their unrelenting heat scorching everything that happened to soak in its light. You got up and warned everyone in the household to remain indoors, and perilously, you took not one, but two, thickly lined parasols with you as you made your way through the village to issue warnings and usher those that were outside back into their homes. The flowers that you had tended to just the other afternoon were already wilting, dehydrated, and you goaded the rabbits from their hole with a trail of fruits and leaves to another you had haphazardly dug where there was everlasting shade.

Later on, you would hear that Mydei had first tried to negotiate with Yudi’s sons, telling them to fulfill their appetite for mischief with something else, but given the inconsistencies in the rumors, it is not clear whether the sons ignored or denied the general’s demands. It seems that Mydei’s attempt at swaying their minds only further encouraged them to follow through with their plan, and Yudi’s sons began to wreak havoc shortly afterwards. As a result, it became a hunt, one that required Mydei and his troop to race around the Holy Nation in search of each of Yudi’s kin. Mydei and his men could only attack at night, when the sons had left their daytime posts to make way for the moon, but they never came down together, instead settling in different parts of the Holy Nation.  

The information you managed to garner, in the form of riveting tales and dubiously trustworthy gossip, either came from the village children’s eavesdropping or the occasional letter from Phainon, which he sent under personal regards. There never was an explanation for why you were kept in the dark, and you never bothered to ask either, because what good would it do for you? Had your husband been slain, you and everyone else in the world would have known already, and you need not entertain excessive hope. All you had to do was see if you could wake to another day.

The worst occurred a year and a half into Mydei’s journey, when there were six suns in the sky at once, their brightness bleeding out even the pure blue of the space beyond. Everybody stayed indoors and covered every possible crack or opening to prevent sunlight from leaking in, but not without the cost of broiling within their own rooms. On days when it was more possible to venture outside, you and your guards had to visit the occasional house to pull out dead bodies, smelling of decaying rot, feces, and steam, and bury them before even their right to a dignified burial was stolen by Yudi’s kin. And this was not a problem exclusive to your village. The Palace began to ring a large gong, three resonating beats, at noon every day to honor the growing number of victims, and there was a national decree for every home to light incense and perform daily prayers during the early evenings to beg for Tian’s interference.

Of course, nobody from Tian ever responded, but it seemed as if Mydei had sensed his people’s tortured cries, and from that point onwards, the suns continue to be felled, one after the other, until only one remained, the same sun that has stood with the earth since the very beginning.

You are in his office when your head lady-in-waiting calls out your title with excited raps against the paneled doors.

My Lady! You must come! Someone has come for you!

You are on your feet immediately, and you almost knock her over when you burst through the doors.

However, you are not greeted by your husband. Rather, it is another familiar face that greets you with a toothy grin and a proud hand saluted at his head.

We have made it back, safe and sound!

You cannot help but throw your arms around the man’s neck, hugging him without reprieve for air. His arms do not reciprocate, for it is inappropriate for a man to demonstrate affection towards a taken woman, but by his hearty laughs, you know he is overjoyed by your reaction.

Where is your master, Feng Meng?

In the Capital, reporting to the Emperor. I have come to fetch you, Madam, to attend his ceremony! You must hurry!

Without another thought, you and your servants rush to dress you. There are flurries of orange sashes, twirling skirts with golden beads sewn at the waist, the clicking of green jade against white jade, and in no later than ten minutes, you are in an oxcart that speeds its way to the Palace.

It is extremely difficult to get to the Palace. First, all entrances to the Capital are at a standstill, bottlenecked by a flood of traffic composed of several donkeys, horses, and merchant carts. The inside of the Capital fares no better – in fact, made worse by all of the pedestrians, street-side shops, and narrow paths. It is only after your cart finally pushes its way through the long lines and leaves the more populated and mercantile neighborhoods that the traffic disperses, and then it is an orderly journey to the Palace. When the guards ask for the purpose of your visit, Feng Meng simply needs to flash the handle of his sword, and you are directed to enter through the back gates, typically only reserved for guests of honor.

You swallow thickly from the infinite, various thoughts swirling in your mind. Will he have scars etching every corner of his body? Will he be several shades tanner? Is his hair an unruly length, or has he cut, or worse, singed it short? Is he a changed person, more violent in demeanor or fatigued from excessive stress? You do not plan on bombarding him with your questions, as he is probably answering plenty from government officials and the Emperor himself, but you also cannot guarantee that you will be able to restrain yourself. Though, the more you think about it, you are not sure how you should react when you see him. Should you wait for him to approach you, or should you take the initiative? Will he want to embrace you or keep you at a distance to give himself some space? How different is he from the man he was more than two years ago, and what will this current version of Mydei think of you when he sees you?

You fail to devise a plan by the time your cart comes to a stop and Feng Meng holds his elbow out to help you jump down. The Palace guards instruct you to wait with the other soldiers' wives, mothers, and fathers in the tea room around the corner, and Feng Meng directs you before he has to leave to prepare for the ceremony himself. You are unsure if Mydei will come to you as you wait in the tea room, so in the case that he does, you find a chair closest to the open entrance, and sit in perfect posture, still and quiet. The other people in the room are frantic, sharing the same questions and concerns you have, but requiring and taking advantage of the comfort of family to alleviate each other’s doubts and fears. You are reminded that neither you or Mydei have other family to turn to, only each other, and oddly enough, you become more optimistic.

All of you are in the tea room for two hours before a Palace guard comes to beckon the entire gathering to follow him. The guard guides all of you to your seats, near the back of the same courtyard you were in for the fourth prince’s seventeenth birthday party. This time, instead of two columns of tables, there are rows upon rows of people kneeling shoulder to shoulder, facing in the direction of the raised center stage. As per usual, the Imperial Family has yet to make their appearance, but they soon will after the highest-ranking officials finish taking their seats.

Finally, with the blaring sound of horns and gongs and drums, the award ceremony begins, and the Emperor, Empress Dowager, and the ten princes ascend their thrones. The secretary comes at the end of the line, and with a nod from the Emperor, the former begins his speech.

Today marks the official end of General Mydeimos’ campaign to defeat ten of Yudi’s sons. General Mydeimos and his men have returned victorious, and so, we host today’s ceremony in tribute to their bravery and success.

The crowd breaks into a clamoring of applause, a little more unruly due to the ecstatic and celebratory atmosphere.

We will present General Mydeimos and his troop of 62 surviving soldiers with honorable military status, in addition to multiple monetary benefits. We will also mourn the loss of the 138 soldiers, whose lives were lost throughout the campaign’s duration, with a funeral procession that will take place the following Saturday and Sunday. Families of the deceased will receive imperial support, and on behalf of this Holy Nation, we are indebted to the sacrifices you and your sons have made. More information regarding the funeral and compensation will be announced and distributed in the coming days. With that, we will begin by awarding the 62 soldiers.

A line of soldiers marches forth from behind you, and you closely observe them as they trod past you. Their faces are set and stern, and they are wearing their tattered armor, rusted and melted swords, bows, and spears held in place on their backs. You also notice several holding onto the solder in front of them, and with a closer look, you realize many of them have either a diminished or total loss of sight. As the line reaches the steps to the stage, the secretary begins calling out each name, handing every person when it is their turn a bronze badge with an engraved solar insignia and a hefty bag of riches. There is no applause, as silence is a way of demonstrating utmost attention and respect, until all the soldiers have been named and awarded. The survivors line up once again and seat themselves along the walls of the courtyard.

Then, an obedient hush falls across the crowd, all in anticipation of the true hero. You, too, suck in your breath, eyes darting around in search of your husband, the chief of your village, a general of this Holy Nation. With a deep breath, the secretary announces his presence in a booming, grand voice.

General Mydeimos, please enter!

Your abilities to speak, breathe, even think are stolen from you. It does not feel like reality when you see Mydei, his hair tied in a clean knot on the top of his head, a velvety black cape billowing behind his broad, intimidating figure, the metal blade of his glaive glinting fiercely underneath the rays of the single sun in the sky. Mydei spares nothing to the crowd, not a prideful smirk or disinterested glance, and simply kneels deeply when he makes his way in front of the Imperial Family.

The Emperor rises from his seat, and the secretary is prompted to narrate.

General Mydeimos, the Emperor would like to personally bestow you your rewards, for your incomparable feat in defeating Yudi’s sons, ten of Tian’s mightiest creations. On behalf of the Imperial Family, he would like to award you a ranking within the nobility and an accompanying northern estate in the Capital. Furthermore, your village will receive recovery aid from the government and many trade benefits. Thank you, once again, for your service.

The Emperor gestures for Mydei to stand, and attaches a noble badge onto the latter’s cloak. Mydei then turns around and bows to the crowd.

General Mydeimos, would you like to say anything, in light of your return and victorious conquest?

He sweeps his eyes across the hundreds of people in front of him before lifting his head and glaring up at the clear blue sky.

My men and I have returned, and the Holy Nation is safe. We are safe, and undefeated.

Through the thundering of applause, cheers, and cries, you tear up at the glorious sight of your husband. He is far away, not as far as he was these past two years, but still a fair distance away such that you cannot make out the features of his face. How blessed it is to live in the same world as him, you think, and it seems your undivided admiration of your husband causes you to accidentally rid yourself of your presence. Mydei’s head snaps to look in your direction, having sensed a change within the audience. He cannot see you individually, but he knows you are somewhere amongst that section of the crowd, and he nods his head, dipping his chin with solemn confidence. Then, he begins to make his way down the steps to take his leave.

That is, until a shiver runs down his spine, a gut instinct alerting him of a formidable presence, and he swivels around to look behind him as his hands reach for his glaive, only to be blinded by a shining white light. What is even more concerning is, as he tries to block the light from his view, he notices that there is no reaction from anyone else present – in fact, there is no sound at all. The light begins to retract on its own, and as Mydei blinks through his stunned vision, he sees that the secretary, the guards lining the bottom of the stairs, the officials sitting in the front rows of the audience – all of them are frozen in place, mouths open in mid-conversation, hands stuck beside their heads in dramatic gestures, eyes wide open, unblinking. The scenery has not changed one bit, aside from the fact that everyone and everything is unmoving, yet he can still sense the formidable presence surrounding him.

Oh, I thought it was just you and me.

A voice, coming from everywhere and nowhere, speaks. Suddenly, a familiar voice – your shout – pierces through the silent space.

Mydei!

He turns to where he once looked in the crowd and spots your standing figure. But before he can sprint to you, or call you over, the voice speaks again.

Forgive me, I do not mean to scare either of you. I had only intended to speak to Mydeimos, however.

With that, your body slumps over and drops onto the ground. Without hesitation, Mydei swings his glaive and, with a snarl, holds it out in front of himself, body poised to attack.

What did you do to my wife!

You cannot fight me, for I will not appear in front of you. As for your wife, I have put her to sleep. I only wish to speak to you.

Concerning what matter?

But the voice does not speak again, and instead, his glaive is replaced, and a ball appears in one hand.

What is this! Answer me!

An elixir of immortality, made of a blade of grass found only in Tian. If you ingest this elixir, it will grant you endless life, and you will become one of us. Take this as a sign of my gratitude.

Before he can respond, there is another flash of that same blinding white light from earlier, and the chaos of the courtyard returns, everything resuming their intended ways. Only the ball in his hand, the lack of his weapon, and your unconscious form indicate that his conversation actually took place.

Following the award ceremony, Mydei is invited to stay as a guest in the Palace, but he declines, not even trying to come up with a reason to justify his need to return to his village immediately.

He returns before you do but only needs to wait for half an hour before he hears you running through the walkways of your estate, approaching your chamber where he is waiting for you. Even though he had encountered Yudi’s sons, all ten of them combined would pale in the face of the omnipotent force that had approached him, and he is sure you are as, if not more, distraught as he is.

When you come rushing in, he rises from the bed and catches you as you leap at him, your trembling body against his.

My love, are you alright!

I need to show you this.

You refuse to separate from him, though, so he squeezes his hand into the crevice between your neck and his chest, and presses the elixir against your skin. That causes you to jump back, and your expression can only be described as one of pure shock.

That cannot be.

Mydei purses his lips.

The voice said it can grant immortality.

That - that voice. Only Yudi and Wang Mu Niang Niang possess access to the elixir of immortality. It - it must have been her! How can this be!

If it is Wang Mu Niang Niang, she said this was a gift out of gratitude.

He watches you take shaky steps back to him. You are trained on the ball in his palm, in disbelief of the existence of it.

W-well… are you going to take it?

Mydei snorts.

Of course not. I would be a fool to separate us from each other for any longer. I also have no intention of becoming a liar or a hypocrite, when I have had little regard for the divine since my birth. Have you forgotten what your husband is like?

His words, mostly tart with a hint of lilting tease, manages to draw a huff of a chuckle from you.

I am home. And I plan to stay for a while.

He scans your face and frame. There are more lines on your face, no doubt a result of your labor and sleepless nights from watching over the village by yourself. Your hair has also gotten quite thin and is a lighter shade, washed out by the suns’ harsh light, and there is both a rigidness and a frailty to your aura, both of which he has never sensed before. You, too, take your time in observing your husband, who has indeed gotten quite tan, and his hair is even longer, reaching down to his hips. There are several patches of his skin that are charred and burned, and you wince at the notion of such extreme pain and beating. Some things remain the same, however, such as the chiseled lines of his muscles and the bold red of his tattoos.

Moreover, this beat of hesitation, of holding each other at an arm’s length away, stays constant as well. But it does not last as long anymore, when Mydei breaks first and draws you into his hold. This embrace is one saturated with warmth, longing, and satisfaction, your first genuine hug since the two of you parted ways over two years ago. You take in his presence, as he does with yours, and in this room, this space just for the two of you, it finally feels complete and whole again.

Later, before the both of you head out for dinner with the rest of the villagers, Mydei decides to hide the elixir in a wooden box that he conceals in the corner of the bedroom. Though neither of you may have a need for it, it may be safer to conceal its existence, especially from potential prying eyes and envious minds.

–

A week later, a Palace messenger arrives at your estate to announce the holding of a banquet that evening in honor of Mydei and his troop. Your husband scoffs at the invitation, but with a stern glare from you, he begrudgingly accepts. These days, Mydei deigns to leave your side, constantly following you about as you resume your village duties and responsibilities. You also make time to bring him around to show him what he has missed out on.

One dawn, you take him to visit Grandma Li’s grave. You bring a basket of pears, homemade rice cakes filled with peanut butter, and incense pillars as offerings, and Mydei kneels for a long time in front of the grave. Another lunchtime, the two of you go to collect peaches, and as it was a Sunday, the children who had no school to attend that day joined you with their parents and siblings. You also show him the rabbits that you raised, the babies now fully grown with fluffy white coats and beady red eyes. And the night before the Palace’s banquet, your village hosts its own at your estate, and many of Mydei’s men come over. Mydei sits with his disciple Feng Meng, while you mill about to pay your respects to the village’s elders and to extend your appreciation to the soldiers present for their loyalty toward your husband.

You pass by a table occupied by a large family of seven. You are especially close to this family’s twins who are both ten-years-old, though not out of personal bias, but because they are relentless in their pursuit for your affection. As so, when the twins notice you, they scream out to you.

Eat with us! Eat with us!

You laugh, shaking your head with a soft smile.

Sorry, little ones, but I must eat with the chief tonight. I will join you for a meal another day.

They huff, crossing their plush arms across their chests. Then, as twins are with their shared thoughts and intuition, they share a cheerful look before turning back to you. The older of the two, a girl, speaks first, before the younger one, a boy, follows up, and the two continue to alternate back and forth.

We heard something interesting at school yesterday!

It is about the chief!

And we heard it from the ninth prince himself!

The prince said the chief had a forbidden medicine –

– a medicine that would make him young forever!

But we read in our books that that kind of medicine only exists in Tian.

Yet the prince looked awfully serious. Is there something wrong with the ninth prince?

Or is the prince right? That the elixir of immortality is real?

You pat their heads while maintaining your expression.

Lower your voices and hush now. If you are caught speaking ill of the Imperial Family, you will lose your tongues. Eat, before dinner gets cold.

You bid your farewell, and head back to your table. As you walk, though, you mull over the twins’ words.

As much as you despise your upbringing as a child of the divine, you find that the hard skills you learned since young have been more helpful than not throughout your life, even after you abandoned your post. Like now, you know not to ignore the signs. Twins are fortuitous, especially boy-girl pairs, and given that they brought up the elixir of all subjects tells you that Wang Mu Niang Niang’s gift is not something that can be so easily forgotten or discarded. You must exercise caution and remain vigilant, all while exhibiting inconspicuousness.

When you return to Mydei’s side, you realize Feng Meng is gone. You ask about the latter’s whereabouts, to which your husband responds that his disciple went to the bathroom. You run your hand through his hair, tracing your fingernail through his braids that you did this morning, before you excuse yourself to change into something warmer.

You pad through the darkened walkways, stopping whenever you run into a guard or a lady-in-waiting. You ask if they have seen Feng Meng, and you follow each of their instructions, until you realize you are navigating towards your husband’s office. Before you make the bend that would allow you to see the office, you wait, extinguishing your presence as you have done when tending to the rabbits and channeling your foresight. When your soul is quiet, everything around gets louder, and though it is faint, there is a vanishing trace of disdain that you can sense that stains the path to Mydei’s office. The flickering nature of the presence tells you there must be another human nearby, one skilled but not yet masterful. But before you can fetch Mydei for help, you must confirm your suspicions.

With quick and light steps, you glide to the old willow that drapes itself over the office building. From behind the trunk, you can peer inside one of the windows, though it does take some effort as it is only wedged open by a fraction and there is no light inside. From what you can tell, there are several unfurled scrolls strewn across his desk, and if you strain your ears, you can hear the shuffling and rearranging of the items on the shelves closest to you. While you do not know who this intruder is, as it could be someone other than Feng Meng, it is clear that someone is there.

You hurry back and try your best to keep up the silencing of your qi, despite the thrumming of anxiety that courses through your blood.

Mydei catches onto your intentions quickly, as he notices your appearance has not changed at all upon your return. You note that Feng Meng’s absence persists. He comes up to you, but instead of directing him to where the intruder is, you loop your arms through his and gently urge him to follow you around the villagers and soldiers. After all, you do not know if the intruder is acting alone, and if not, there could be those watching your husband closely.

As you pace around, you quietly inform him.

Someone is ransacking your office. I believe they are looking for the elixir.

How would they know about it?

Even the children have heard about it. At the very least, it is known that the ninth prince has been talking about its potential existence in the Capital.

How would the ninth prince know about it?

It is a good question, so you ponder it briefly.

I have a hypothesis, if you will entertain me.

Please, go ahead.

Remember how I was awake initially? It could be that the Imperial Family was also awake.

How could I have missed that?

No, not in the same way that you and I were awake. We could move about, even under Wang Mu Niang Niang’s spell. I was most likely able to withstand her spell because of my tolerance to divinity. By that logic, then, it is possible that the Imperial Family and priests were also able to retain their consciousness during her appearance, but were solely limited to that.

That is enough said on your part. The rest, Mydei understands. It is his turn, then, to formulate a strategy.

I will take the direct route to our bedroom. Veil yourself and go from the back, around the washroom. I will leave first, or else they will be suspicious of you.

He rubs his thumb across your cheek, a gesture of reassurance, and he makes some conversation with a few of the elders to his side before he goes on his way. You spend even longer lingering around the villagers, but also with the soldiers, to see if any of them are accomplices. But there is no sense of hostility or hatred from them. The more you investigate, hovering within the soldiers’ presence, the more confident you are that none of them are involved. That leaves you with two options: the intruder is acting alone, confirming their identity as Feng Meng, or alongside members of the Security Bureau.

You sigh. You must go now.

–

Mydei is broiling with anger. There is no need to hide his presence, as he wants to make it known that he is furious. His people have long suffered at the hands of the current empire, the village having been conquered during his incompetent father’s reign, and while he has tried to make peace with the Emperor, he has never once forgiven him and the Holy Nation. Now, he is being targeted for something he did not ask for – if they wanted it, they could have just asked for it! He shakes his head and rolls out his wrists, preparing to draw his blade and kill all that invades his home.

You are too reckless, Mydei.

Mydei swings, but misses.

Deliverer!

The Head of the Security Bureau steps out of the shadow, a black mask covering all but his piercing blue eyes. Had Mydei not worked with the Head before, the latter’s sudden appearance would have startled him.

You fool! You have always been the Emperor’s dog!

Mydei, it is you who is the dog. You need to be subjugated. The Emperor will no longer tolerate defiance from you or your village.

Defiance! How laughable!

This is not a laughing matter.

This is no matter in the first place.

I am afraid, then, that this is not something we can talk through.

Mydei has no doubt that he can defeat Phainon. His only fear is that he will not be fast enough.

–

It seems you were right in following the signs because you are exceptionally lucky. The moon lights your path so that you can navigate your way through your abode with ease and speed. So far, there does not seem to be anybody trailing you, and the intruder is nowhere to be seen, so they are not targeting you either. At this rate, it is likely that the intruder has left Mydei’s office and is searching elsewhere.

You take a deep breath out of relief when you arrive at your chamber and realize that no one else is present. There is only one entrance to your bedroom, so you take extra care to be silent as you come around from behind the building, and when the coast is clear, you sneak into your room. You pay no mind that the inside is dark, as you know the placement of everything by heart. You approach the corner of the room where Mydei hid the wooden box inside a large jar with bamboo planks stacked on top. You remove everything one by one, hurrying but prioritizing the need for silence above all else. But, again, it seems luck is on your side, and you are able to retrieve the elixir without a hitch. You move everything back to their original placements, except for the medicinal ball that you tightly clutch in your fist.

All is well, until you step out of your bedroom. 

You cannot help but scream when you see Mydei, bloody and battered, fighting against Phainon, bruised and limping.

No!

Both of them cease their movements, surprised by your presence. But before either of them can come to, something surges up from beneath you, and a hand flies up to grab you by the neck, limiting your ability to breathe without delay.

It hurts. It is an excruciating pain of being crushed under a heavy weight. You have heard that suffocating is akin to drowning, which feels like being roasted and burned from the inside out. You wonder if Mydei has ever experienced pain like this, perhaps when he received those patches of permanently seared skin. In your choking, murky view, you can make out the blurred outline of Feng Meng, his face contorted in an ugly, deceitful frown as he breathes heavily. And through your pounding ears, you barely make out his words.

I know you have it! If you just give it to me, Madam, your life will be spared!

Even if you could talk, you would not answer. However, since you cannot speak anyway, you demonstrate your refusal by flailing, thrashing your legs in every direction possible and beating Feng Meng’s arms with your fists. You know that you are only wasting your energy, but since Feng Meng is not ready to kill you yet, you desperately take in shallow gasps of air as well. You can hear Mydei screaming your name over and over again in between silvery screeches of gold colliding against brass, and by now, you think your guards should be on their way to address the commotion. But even their arrival might be too late for you, and it seems your luck has run out.

Feng Meng’s grip on you tightens, preventing air from entering you entirely. You probably look like a fish out of water, uselessly gaping your mouth and sputtering drool all over.

Madam, I will only ask you once more, or I will take it by force! Please hand over the elixir!

It is no use. You will not give him the elixir, and he needs to retrieve it by any means. With no compromise in sight, the two of you are at a standstill. That means one of you has to take action.

Without another thought, with the last remnants of your fading strength, you bring your shaky fist to your greying lips and release your clutch, dropping the ball into your mouth. 

Then you swallow.

It is as if time has stopped, once again. Everyone else, including Mydei, is frozen in the middle of their actions, and only you are able to move for however long you have. You remove Feng Meng’s chokehold on you, and heave in desperate breaths.

Your mind immediately begins to clear, and that is made apparent when you sense her. Now that you know who she is, her omnipresence, preceded by a white light, is less frightening.

That was not intended for your use.

You take another deep, shuddering breath.

My apologies, Wang Mu Niang Niang. But I figured it would be better than handing it over to the likes of Feng Meng. He would have eaten it on the spot.

That was not a call for you to make.

But you knew this would happen. I know the divine are capable of seeing into the future.

You are too powerful for your own good. Perhaps this was the best outcome, after all.

Seeing that you are still on your own, you rush to Mydei’s side, placing a hand on his cheek. His eyes are wide, golden and rouge irises twinkling under the moonlight. His mouth is wide open, as he was probably in the midst of screaming at you to Just hand it over! There are blood splatters that cover his temple and neck, and you use your sleeve to rub those away, before peppering kisses onto the corners of his lips.

Mortal, I will allow you to bring two things from this earth to the moon, where you will join me.

You pause in the middle of your kissing to respond, icily.

If you are pitying me, I will have none of it.

Are you in any position to refuse pity? Regardless, you do not have a choice. This elixir is of my making, so you must obey my commands. On the moon you will reside, and every year on this day, I will grant you the opportunity to see your beloved on this earth.

You leave one last kiss on your husband’s nose before you step back. Although you will be able to see him once a year, it feels… strange. You had promised yourself that, upon Mydei’s return, the two of you would be able to return to your normal routine and only be subjected to a few hours’ worth of separation every day. Even now, as you let your eyes linger over every centimeter of his face, you can tell that much of him has changed throughout his campaign, and before you have the chance to memorize his new contours and creases, it is you who must leave, by divinity’s demand, and you will never be able to know him as well as you once did.

How strange and twisted, you think, but for some reason, there is a distinct sense of acceptance within you. Perhaps the past two years have tested you, and you no longer fear fate’s outcomes because, at the very least, Mydei did the impossible in defeating Tian’s dwellers and survived. It might also be that you know Wang Mu Niang Niang is already demonstrating as much mercy as the heavens will allow, so even if you were to throw a fit or beg for more, the goddess herself would not be able to do anything. Or maybe, at one indistinguishable point, you unconsciously resigned yourself to the divine, and knowing that it will do anything it can to torment you, you have carried that grief along and never once set it down. This sudden unraveling of your life and the way you have known it to be has simply allowed that grief to surface, and you can only shake your head when faced with the darkened, disintegrating state of your heart.

You proceed to shuffle backwards, away from Mydei, until he is barely out of reach. You take the golden cuff that holds his front braid together, before you walk to the nearby courtyard where the rabbits reside. You uncover their burrow, unrooting purple forget-me-nots and creeping buttercups, and reach in to pull out the runt of the newest litter, no different from a solid figurine in your palm.

I am ready.

How strange, your choices. Explain to me, mortal.

There is not much to it. I suppose I find sentimentality in things that keep me going.

How bold of you, to not tell the truth in front of the likes of me.

You could force it out of me, if you so wish.

You watch as a staircase and railing of stardust, moonlight, and cosmic nothingness appear before your eyes in the middle of the courtyard, spiraling upwards and into the sky, ending somewhere far beyond where the moon hangs. You stare at Mydei’s braid cuff and the baby rabbit, which you notice is beginning to shiver, and you tuck both of them in the inside of your robe before ascending the first steps of the staircase.

As you climb, you notice the earth below you gradually resuming its time. A breeze brushes past the tips of your ears, and you delight in the perfume of fresh mint, blooming magnolias, and rose peonies it carries. In the distance, an owl hoots, and a pair of magpies flutter down to a pond you cannot see. You lose yourself to the natural order of the earth because, soon, you will leave this land.

Suddenly, a yell of your name draws you back. You lean over the railing and see that below, Mydei is gazing up at you. You can still make out the expression on his face – one of loss, desperation, and frustration. He is biting on his lower lip, and there are divots between his eyebrows. His eyes appear especially glossy and bright underneath the moon’s light.

Where are you going?

To the moon.

Can you come back down to me?

I cannot.

Your husband takes a few seconds before replying, and as you wait, the sound of grass blades ruffling and bats flying fill the silence.

I see. Then can I come up to you?

Wang Mu Niang Niang intercedes.

No. You will live out the rest of your life and die on this earth.

You and Mydei share a solemn look. Neither of you can say anything, as both of you have begun to weep, quiet tears clumping together eyelashes and rolling down the apples of your cheeks. But Mydei is also aware of the unforgiving reality that you may disappear at sudden, so with a shaky, breaking voice, he attempts to carry on the flow of the conversation, clinging onto any chance to hear his wife’s voice again.

When will I next see you?

Whenever the moon rises.

I will look up at the night sky every evening. And in person?

Every year, on this day, at this time.

I will meet with you every year. I swear.

I look forward to it, my love.

Are you cold? I am sure it is cold on the moon.

Do not worry. I have all that I need.

Wang Mu Niang Niang intercedes once more.

Enough of your idle chatter!

But the two of you carry on, because both of you have realized that Wang Mu Niang Niang is kind, and no longer are the two of you fearful of Tian or the divine or divinity as a whole. Rather, in the last, ticking seconds that you have, it is most important to cherish and express the unyielding, everlasting love you have for each other, as husband and wife. With soft, longing smiles, you utter the same sentence together.

We are forever –

– under the same sky.

Both of you press your fingers to your lips before extending your arms out towards each other, hoping that the full extent of your yearning, love, and devotion will be conveyed and reach the other. Then, with a flash of blinding white light, you disappear from Mydei’s sight.

You, of course, can still see him, but you will yourself to turn your chin away and climb up, up, up so that by tomorrow night, you will have made it to the moon, and Mydei will be able to see you from the window of your shared bedroom.

The world resumes, as if you were never there at all, as if time never stopped flowing. But Mydei knows you were real, are real. He reminds himself he need only survive tonight alone, and tomorrow, he will see you again, for the two of you can never be apart for too long.

And he is right because, by the decree of the heavenly gods above and their kindred spirits down on the earth in the forms of the water, leaves, wind, and destiny, you and Mydeimos are for each other, to always be intertwined and inseparable in this vast, vast universe.

–

“Lao Lao, why do we eat mooncakes during the Mid-Autumn Festival?” A little boy, no more than six- or seven-years-old sits at the dining table, feet kicking back and forth as they dangle off the edge of a chair meant for an adult. On the table, there is an array of emptied pots and plates, evidence of a large and festive meal devoured. Sitting directly across from him on the other side is his maternal grandmother.

“Because the lady on the moon likes them,” the grandma replies, preoccupied with tearing apart the packaging of a mooncake, which she hands to her grandson.

“Why do we care about the lady on the moon?”

The grandma’s eyebrows furrow. “Aye, Duo Duo, watch what you say! It is an important cultural celebration.”

“But why?”

“So many questions! She saved her husband, alright?”

“What happened to her husband?”

The grandson watches his grandma pause before recalling, “He was murdered by his student with a club made out of a peach tree.”

“Woah, that’s oddly specific. Did the husband love the lady on the moon?”

“Of course! Do you know nothing about the Mid-Autumn Festival? Before his death, the husband would burn incense and stare up at the moon every night to see his wife, and every year, today was the only day he could meet his wife in person. That is why we honor our ancestors during this festival, because we are closest to them now.”

The grandson shrugs, having lost interest halfway through his grandma’s explanation, romance lost on his inexperienced shoulders. “Sounds weird.”

“Duo Duo!”

The grandson ignores his grandma and pries open his mooncake. “Wait, Lao Lao, can you eat the yolk for me?”

“Aiyah, just eat it all yourself!”

[ddiwata]

if you could only know me (like your prayers at night) — the day you said goodnight, hale

— mydeimos x fem! wife! reader

— help.. help.. his words to phainon.. i cant breathe.. requests open!!

— warnings : MAJOR spoilers for the new quest, angst 💔💔 just tears and desperation idk!! no usage of y/n :3 devil works hard but i work extremely harder

— 🩸

“i’ll be leaving okhema soon to fight the greatest darkness of the world. and to shoulder nikador’s destiny. so, listen well: if there comes a day when we meet again on the battlefield, and i stand opposed to the flame-chase..

remember to stab your sword into my back and through my tenth thoracic vertebra. that’s my weakspot, and the only way to kill me.”

mydeimos’ last words to phainon. he planned to pack up and leave, with nothing but the clothes he has on and his bloodlust coursing through his veins. but every time he gazes down at his fingers, stained with the blood of too many to count. but the twinkle of gold around his ring finger makes him hesitate. he shouldn’t hesitate. he isn’t someone who hesitates.

but the words of his wife rings in his head. “i had these rings forged! look, it’s gold. it matches your armor!” his heart clenches and he can’t bear to say goodbye. to leave her like this. but he can’t bear to see her eyes fill with tears, her hands trembling as she pleads for him to stay when he says goodbye.

too many people he’s slain, too many people grovel at his feet. but every time his wife sobs, he feels mortal. fragile. so he leaves when night has fallen over their humble abode. his wife’s body comfortable underneath the weighted blanket they share, locks messy and her face relaxed— often marred by horror and concern when she finds out he’s died for the nth time after another battle.

he prays—for the first time—that his love won’t cry when she finds out. standing at the gate, where he’ll leave and won’t come back, he exhales deeply.

“walk out of okhema and i swear to the gods, i will divorce you, mydeimos.” the frail threat hangs in the air, and the prince turns around to see his wife—beautiful, tired, and utterly radiant. his breath hitches and he swallows. “it was a mistake giving that coreflame up. you know that, my love,” he looks away, eyebrows furrowing.

“why didn’t you wake me?” she asks firmly, voice cracking in a moment of weakness. mydei knows she’s trembling, fighting the urge to hold onto him. “i didn’t want to see the only reason why i want to stay hurt because of something i did. i left you a letter, but i’m.. horrible at writing.” he groans, his armored feet moving without the intention to.

he falls in his beloved’s arms, soft, sweet, and holding him so tightly. “my love, please forgive me.” de whispers, his cold, gloved hands grasping onto his wife’s cheeks. for the first time in a while, he feels tears trail down his cheeks and her soft thumb wiping it away as she stares up at him.

“you must go. and i understand..” she presses her forehead against her husband’s, nose brushing against his as she exhales softly, “do not lose yourself. come home to me.. please.”

a swift press to her lips, his own locking onto his wife’s, a familiar gesture— but this time it’s filled with grief. longing— desperation. he pulls away just as he kisses her, and with a gentle squeeze to her arms, he leaves, disappearing with the wind.

[idlescara]

Hi there! How are you?

So with Phainon being introduced recently, I started to become more obsessed with him haha. Could you please write a Phanion x shy male reader fic? I think their relationship dynamic would be funny.

shy shy shy

sypnosis. — ★ you considered yourself blessed that you managed to bag a man like phainon, but you often questioned your love for him when he loves to torment you (lovingly) because of your shy personality.

word count. — ★ 313

warnings. — ★ male reader, established relationship, phainon is a bully but in a loving way, usage of pet names (love), myedi dan heng & caelus (male trailblazer) cameo, angst if you squint

an. — ★ tysm for the request! i hope this meets your expectations <3

“c’mon love, please?” phainon said as he hugged you from behind, his strength overpowering yours as you tried to free yourself from his grasp.

“i said no! now let me go!”

“not letting you go until you agree to go with me.”

you groaned, “you know i don’t do well in crowds, so why do you want me there so bad?”

“because you’re my boyfriend?” he replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

you sighed, resting your hands on top of his, “is you know who going to be there too?”

“who? myedi?”

“yes, him.” you said, rolling your eyes.

“i still don’t get your problem with him, but i am assuming so.”

you turned in phainon’s arms, wrapping your arms around his neck, “how bad do you want me to go with you?”

“as bad as dan heng wants caelus.”

you groaned, “why do you want me there that bad? you’d have a much better time without me.”

phainon gasped dramatically, “untrue, you make these events bearable!”

“stop being dramatic, my presence cannot be that life changing.”

“you underestimate me greatly, love.”

you two stood in silence, phainon looking at you with an expectant look in his eyes, making you chew your bottom lip nervously.

“if you really don’t want to do, i won’t force you to.”

“it’s just… there has to be another reason besides liking my presence as to why you want me to go with you so bad.”

he grinned, making you groan. “why do you like tormenting me because of my personality so much?”

“because you’re adorable when you hide behind me as if i’m a shield.”

you pouted, leading phainon to lean down and kiss you, “i can’t help it, i just find everything you do cute.”

“do you want me to break up with you?”

“don’t threaten me with my worst nightmare!”

© idlescara. do not repost, translate, or modify my work.

[krokusplays]

Breaking Point - 18+

Phainon X Reader

Fic Rating: Explicit

Words: 4.7k

Fic tags: Smut, Angst, Cunnilingus, penetrative sex, Overstimulation, Cathartic sex, Aftercare, written before 3.1

Author’s Notes: The dialogue in the beginning is based on what we've seen in the trailers and on theories but not on any leaks.

Excerpt:

Phainon didn’t attempt to push your hand away or to keep talking, but the look in his blue eyes pierced your heart stronger than any of Chartonus’s weapons ever could.

“You don’t really believe all this. Don’t give in to these thoughts,” you said, your words a whisper as you raised your hand to cup his cheek. He closed his eyes.

“I don’t know what I believe anymore…”

Everything that has piled up - all his anger, his frustration, his doubts and fears - all laid bare, about to burst through the fragile walls of his heart and soul.

Read it on AO3

[sundaysconsort]

phainon with a reader who’s kinda like sakura matou from fate/stay night: heaven’s feel? :0

Entry: " Light Candles In Rome "

Pairing: HSR! Phainon | Reader

Information: You've been a companion of Phainon for as long as you can remember, and yet, often feel as though you'd forever live beneath him. He is your hero, and you feel like you're undeserving of his light, as well as his protection. You're unworthy of his love, you're convinced, and only find purpose when made useful to him in some way, so what happens once he guides you to embrace yourself? To see the person he most adores? | 3.4k Word Count

Tags: Phainon x Reader, Anxiety, Fluff, Slow Burn (implied), Gentle Introspection, Found Comfort, Understanding, Light Teasing, Angst (?) with a good ending, Romantic Tension, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Dark Themes, Deep Conversations, Confessions, Tender Moments, Themes of Hope.

Warnings: Mentions of Anxiety and Social Discomfort, Major self-doubt and Internalized Pressure, Feelings of Unworthiness, Poor Self-Image.

You stood at the edge of an exquisitely adorned celebration, your attention fixed on Phainon as he effortlessly moved through the crowd of guests. The flickering glow of candlelight mingled with the bright light of torches, casting a warm hue over the event. Yet, amidst the brilliance, you felt as though the lights illuminated everyone but you. This gathering was not meant to honor individuals like yourself; it was a tribute to the heroes of Amphoreus, the legendary realm known as The Eternal Land. Tonight, the festive atmosphere celebrated the brave warriors who had fought tirelessly to achieve this fleeting moment of peace, a victory that felt fragile.

You wore a delicate white dress, meticulously crafted from an ethereal fabric that gracefully embraced your figure, but it did little to alleviate the gnawing sense of inferiority in your heart. As you observed the proud men and women around you, all celebrating the achievements of your hero, the disparity felt almost tangible. Phainon stood out among the crowd, his silver hair shimmering like spun moonlight under the warm lighting. He wore an impeccably tailored outfit suitable for the occasion, in stark contrast to the simple attire he usually favored, and this transformation struck you deeply.

Everywhere he moved, his presence seemed to draw attention. Laughter and exuberant applause surrounded him as he was whisked away by a partner who exuded elegance and confidence—an image so strikingly beautiful that it felt worlds apart from your self-perception. A weak smile graced your lips, torn between envy and melancholy, as you longed for the courage to join in the merriment and perhaps capture his gaze.

In moments like this, your insecurities reared their heads with a vengeance. You were painfully aware of your lack of experience and the finesse that adorned everyone around you. What could someone as illustrious as Phainon possibly see in you beyond the role of a "kind" friend? These thoughts twisted and turned in your mind, deepening the sense of feeling small and unseen. This feeling intensified during your separations from Phainon, who had the uncanny ability to recognize you and make you feel whole—and, for the first time… loved. You were uncertain if this sentiment was romantic, but his endless charisma illuminated those around him, regardless of whom he engaged with.

Just as you spiraled further into these thoughts, your eyes caught sight of Phainon looking back at you from the dance floor. There was something in his deep, expressive gaze—an undeniable warmth that sent a fluttering sensation through your heart, piercing through your doubts. Moments later, he elegantly broke away from his dance partner and approached you with an air of determination, as if he had been weaving through the crowd in search of you amid the jubilant cheers celebrating his arrival.

“There you are!” he exclaimed, his voice rising above the gentle hum of conversation and laughter. A warm, radiant smile blossomed across his face, illuminating his eyes like the sun breaking through a cloudy sky. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere,” he continued, his tone playful yet earnest. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me?” His request hung in the air, straightforward and brimming with genuine sincerity, as he extended his hand toward you, inviting you into a moment filled with unspoken promise.

Your heart raced at the unexpected proposition. “Me? But… I don’t know how to dance,” you stammered, your cheeks aflame with a mix of excitement and anxiety as you struggled to meet his gaze. The bubbling exhilaration within you battled against the self-doubt that swirled in your mind, shadowing the joy of his invitation.

“It doesn’t matter,” he assured, his voice calm and encouraging. “I’ll teach you. I just want to savor this moment with you. Please, don’t let fear hold you back.”

His genuine belief in you melted some of your reservations. With a hesitant nod, you took a deep, fortifying breath and stepped forward, feeling the cool stone floor beneath your heels. Phainon extended his hand—warm and inviting—and you felt a rush of emotions as you accepted it.

As you both found your places amidst the rhythm of the music, you felt his hands guiding you with gentleness and precision. Despite the initial tension, he led you with a patience that calmed your nerves, encouraging you every time you stumbled. Gradually, you found your footing, and the anxiety that had weighed heavily on your heart began to lift, replaced by the exhilarating thrill of sharing this moment with him. You reminded yourself that he had specifically sought you out.

“I’m not perfect,” you murmured shyly, a smile lingering on your lips as you surrendered to the rhythm of your movements together. “But I’m glad you chose to dance with me.”

Phainon’s gaze softened as he matched your steps, his aura steady and comforting. “Sometimes, it’s the imperfections that make a moment truly special. You are perfect just as you are. Just be yourself; it’s what I love about you.”

His words caught you completely off-guard, and you locked your eyes onto his charming features, feeling your heart race in overwhelming chaos. Did he confess to loving you? Are you thinking too into it? The thought sent shockwaves through your mind, causing you to barely avoid stumbling as he took the lead once more, twirling you gently before reeling you back in.

With a teasing glint in his eye, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against your ear as he whispered, “What do you say we slip away from this lively celebration a bit early? Just the two of us, like you've always fantasized.” The allure of his invitation sent a delightful shiver down your spine, igniting the palpable chemistry that had simmered between you both for so long. However, a hint of hesitation tugged at your heart, making it difficult to fully embrace such a tempting proposal.

Before you could find the right words, he effortlessly deciphered your hesitation, his knowing smile leaving no room for your usual playful evasiveness. "Let's be honest; you’ve never been skilled at hiding your thoughts, and tonight, I won’t let your usual excuses deter us. All I ask for is a simple acknowledgment. Just say the word, ‘yes,’ and trust me, it’s plain as day that you want to." His words hovered between you, charged with unspoken promise, as you felt the anticipation building in the air around you.

You scanned the cluttered scene around you, heart racing like a trapped animal caught in the glare of oncoming headlights. The vibrant crowd of people surged and swirled, their laughter and chatter blending into a dizzying racket that felt almost suffocating. “But… what if someone notices?” you whispered, voice shaky with uncertainty. A knot of anxiety twisted in your stomach. “I… I really don’t want to make things awkward.” His consistent kindness was a balm to your nerves, but in moments charged with intensity like this, his presence left you breathless, caught in a whirlwind of emotions that sent your mind racing. "If one of the Chrysos Heirs were to go missing…"

He leaned closer, a teasing light in his eyes. “Come on. Don’t you want to have a little excitement? Just for a moment, forget about everything else. Forget my title, and let me be an ordinary man in your life.” His breath tickled your ear, sending another shiver down your spine.

Your heart fluttered at his words, but uncertainty still clung tightly to you. “I… I’ve never really done something like this,” you admitted, glancing anywhere to avoid his gaze.

“I can tell you’ve been waiting for a chance like this,” he pressed, his smile coaxing the walls around your heart to soften. “You’ve been looking at me all night, and I can see how much you want to escape just for a little while.”

“Maybe I have…” you murmured, biting your lip as you stole a glance at him. The thrill of his proposal both excited and terrified you. “But what if they do come looking for us?”

“Let them,” he said, brushing a strand of hair from your face with a gentle touch. “This moment is ours. What matters is what we want, not what they think.”

Your breath caught in your throat at his closeness, the warmth of his gaze making your heart race. “But… what if they find us?” you repeated, your voice wavering.

“Then we’ll just have to be clever about it. Think of a cozy place, just you and me. Isn’t that what you’ve always dreamed of?” It was hard to resist the pull of his enthusiasm.

You felt butterflies stir in your stomach at the thought. “And what… what would we do there?” you asked, your curiosity barely masking your apprehension.

“Maybe we could talk about all the things we’ve kept to ourselves, or just enjoy a quiet moment together without any distractions.” His tone was inviting, pulling you in like a gentle tide.

Your heart raced, visions of possibilities flashing through your mind. “That does sound nice…” you whispered though the words felt foreign on your tongue.

“Tempting, isn’t it?” he teased, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “So, what do you say? Let’s have a little fun tonight.”

You hesitated, the idea sparking a sense of adventure within you. Finally, the thrill outweighed your doubts. “Okay,” you agreed softly, your voice barely audible. “Let’s go.”

A triumphant smile broke across his face. “Perfect. Follow me. I promise you won’t regret it.” As you took a step forward, something in you stirred with an unexpected excitement, ready to embrace the night ahead.

As Phianon whisked you away from the jubilant crowd, you couldn't help but stare at him in awe. The way his hand grasped yours completely, linking fingers, sent a thrill through your body. Moving to a quieter spot, hidden from prying eyes, you felt a mixture of excitement and apprehension.

The night air was crisp and refreshing, with a gentle breeze weaving through the branches, causing the leaves to whisper secrets to one another. Leaning against the sturdy trunk of an ancient oak, Phianon held your hand firmly, his fingers threading through yours. The silver light of the moon cast a soft glow on his face, illuminating the warmth in his deep-set eyes as he turned to meet your gaze. "I've been waiting for a moment like this," he said, his voice a melodic whisper that seemed to resonate with your very thoughts.

You swallowed hard, the tension thickening the air between you. “Me too,” you confessed at last, attempting to inject a note of confidence into your tone despite the uncertainty fluttering in your chest. “It’s nice to escape the noise for a while, isn’t it?”

His smile was infectious, an upturn of his lips that brought a spark to his eyes. “Yeah, it's more peaceful here. With you.” The sound of crickets chirping in the background and the gentle rustling of branches created a tranquil symphony, making this secluded sanctuary feel like it belonged solely to you two.

As the serene atmosphere wrapped around you like a comforting embrace, you took a deep breath, the fresh scent of pine and earth filling your lungs. Your heart raced, each beat amplifying your need to address the growing feelings between you. “May I ask you something?” you ventured, your voice slightly unsteady, testing the waters with cautious optimism.

“Of course,” he replied, his expression open and encouraging as if he was inviting you to share your innermost thoughts.

Your palms felt damp against his warm hand, a mixture of anxiety and hope swirling within you. “Lately, I’ve been… well, I’ve been wondering. Do you like me?” The straightforwardness of the question hung heavily in the cool night air, charged with the potential gravity of his response.

He raised an eyebrow, surprise flickering across his features like a shooting star. "Like you? Of course! You’re amazing."

In that instant, a delicate flutter of hope blossomed in your chest, but the need for further clarity gnawed at you. “But do you like me as family, or… as a girl? A partner?” The question tumbled out, raw and unguarded, laying bare your vulnerability under the canopy of stars.

A long pause enveloped you, thick with unspoken thoughts and the weight of anticipation. You longed to cease dancing around the truth, preferring the comfort of undeniable words instead of piecing together unspoken intentions.

With a playful smirk, he shifted closer, his teasing demeanor resuming as he met your gaze with a twinkle of mischief. “You want me to spell it out for you, huh? It’s not every day I get probed like this.” He leaned in even farther, a teasing look igniting in his eyes. “Are you sure you can handle the truth? It might be too much for a sweet individual like you.”

Your heart raced at his provocative tone, caught in the delightful tug-of-war between irritation and excitement. “Please stop dodging the question. Just be honest, Not as the esteemed heir, but as Phainon.”

With a laugh, he rubbed the back of his neck, his bravado wavering under the weight of your earnestness. “Alright, alright. You’ve caught me. It’s not just family affection. You’re… well, you’re someone I’ve always cared for more than I should have.”

His teasing demeanor dissolved, replaced by a palpable seriousness that sent a shiver down your spine. “I never said it before, not in my role as a Chrysos Heir. It felt too risky. But you deserve to know: I like you, like really like you. As more than just a sister, more than a friend. A partner.”

The sincerity in his voice washed over you like a warm wave, the flutter of hope within you transforming into a vibrant pool of joy and relief that intertwined in an exquisite dance.

As they stood together, the air crackling with unspoken words, a familiar warmth enveloped them. Moments passed as their laughter faded, leaving an intimate silence filled with the weight of everything unshared between them. He looked down at you, his heart racing as he recalled all the times you had been there to patch his wounds, both physical and emotional.

With each shared glance, the tension shifted, an invisible thread drawing them closer. He brushed a stray hair behind your ear, his fingers grazing your skin, igniting a spark that felt both exhilarating and terrifying. You felt your heart race, but alongside that excitement, a whisper of doubt crept in—why would he choose someone like you?

Your breaths mingled, soft and hesitant. He hesitated just a beat longer, searching your eyes for any sign of doubt. You looked up at him, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were somehow not enough for him. His gaze held such intensity, and you wondered if he truly saw you, flaws and all.

With a gentle tilt of your chin, he invited himself in, and as he leaned closer, your mind raced with all the reasons he shouldn't want this. The kiss that followed was delicate, a soft exploration that spoke volumes of the connection you had slowly built over countless shared experiences. But as his lips brushed against yours, a part of you felt unworthy of such tenderness.

As the kiss lingered, he pulled back slightly, a teasing sparkle dancing in his crystal blue eyes. “You know, I’ve been waiting for you to invite me in like that for ages,” he whispered, his voice low and playful.

A warm blush flared in your cheeks, spreading like wildfire, yet the heat mingled with embarrassment. You looked down, fiddling with your fingers, struggling to find a reply as insecurity gnawed at your insides. You couldn’t ignore the feeling that there was something inherently wrong with you—how could he possibly want you when there were so many others so much better?

Before you could gather your thoughts, he leaned closer, drawing you into his orbit. His breath tickled your ear, warm and inviting, sending delightful shivers down your spine, yet deep down, your heart felt heavy with doubt. “I was beginning to think I needed to adopt a bolder strategy,” he murmured, the hint of mystery weaving through his tone. “But that’s my little secret.”

A frown tugged at your lips, frustration bubbling up within you. “If I’ve laid my heart bare,” you protested softly, glancing up through your lashes, “then you have to spill your secrets too.” The sparkle of curiosity in your eyes misrepresented the vulnerability you felt—would he be willing to share himself with someone like you?

“Hmm, how about this one: I can’t stop thinking about how many times I’ve wanted to kiss you like this?” He leaned closer, his gaze intense and sincere. “Does that count?”

Your heart fluttered at his admission, but the doubt lingered, making it hard to embrace the moment fully. “Yeah- …yeah, that counts,” you stammered, your voice faltering as your cheeks heated even more. “So …what’s stopping you from another?” you whispered cautiously, just wanting to understand how someone so seemingly perfect could want you.

His eyes sparkled as he brought his lips just inches from yours, the tension palpable in the air. In a low, sultry whisper, he breathed out, “Nothing at all.” Then, with a gentle tenderness, he closed the distance and kissed you softly, his lips caressing yours like a feather, igniting a warmth that spread through you, leaving a sweet sensation long after the kiss had ended.

After the kiss, he pulled back just slightly, his lips brushing against your nose as he planted a soft kiss there. A tender smile spread across his face as he moved to your cheek, pressing a gentle kiss that felt like a promise. He then leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss on your forehead, a silent declaration of his affection.

Finally, he shifted to your shoulder, resting his head there, his breath warm against your skin. In that moment of stillness, he hoped you could feel the depth of his feelings—the way he cherished every part of you, the way you made him feel alive. It was his silent way of saying what words sometimes failed to convey, hoping you would understand that this was more than a fleeting moment; it was a connection he held dear.

As he lingered in the dim light, he sensed the tension coiling tightly in your shoulders. With a gentle, deliberate movement, he lifted his head to meet your gaze. "Hey," he murmured softly, his fingers brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down your spine. "You okay?"

You hesitated, a flicker of uncertainty dancing in your eyes, casting shadows across your face. "I just… sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve this. Like I’m not enough."

His heart ached at your words, a sharp twist of empathy wrapping around him. "You are more than enough," he insisted, his voice steady and sincere. "Don’t let those dark doubts confuse what’s real between us."

Your lips tightened into a thin line, and he could see the struggle etched in your features. "It’s hard to shake those feelings. I want to believe you, I really do.” you replied, your voice barely a whisper, laced with vulnerability.

Taking your hands in his, he squeezed gently, a lifeline threaded between you. "Then let me help you. Look at me—this is real, and it’s not going anywhere. You’ve captured my heart, and I desperately want you to see what I see."

Your expression softened, a flicker of hope igniting in your eyes, and he hoped that his sincerity could pierce through the veil of doubt clouding your heart. "I see you," he continued, his gaze locked onto yours with an intensity that felt magnetic, "the amazing person you are. Just trust in us."

You took a deep breath, drawing in the weight of his words, nodding slowly as if weighing them like precious gems. At that moment, he knew you both had crossed an invisible threshold together, a small but significant step towards trusting in the love you were nurturing, like a tender bloom pushing through the frost.

A/N: From what I understood of her character, she's kind and has a poor self-image due to past trauma. Honestly, I knew of the Fate series but never got into it due to the complexity of it's story. I noticed she's got another side present in a separate route, but, assumed you wanted her kinder self. One where she's timid, sweet, hesitant, etc. I hope I wrote the reader to your satisfaction! If not, you can always send another request.

[nativeofsumeru]

Honkai Star Rail Fanfiction Story ideas (Part 2/?)

A/n: this one was too long to not be it's own for some reason.(continued in Part 3) Tumblr won't let me post the whole thing otherwise sadly. ~~ Mydei x reader x Phainon (Part 1) -story idea was thought of specifically fem!reader tbh -I am aware of the characters, general dynamics, and some story points like Mydei's backstory (which some aspects may or may not be shifted in the timeline for this story idea) and Phainon being Phainon (of course his HI3 version is called Kevin, I find that funny), but have not finished playing the Amphoreus quest in full at the moment of writing this -HOWEVER the second half could more likely be wedged with Amphoreus story quests and canon -does not follow Amphoreus story or potentially canon either -reader comes from a family of nobles who have had a history with the royal bloodline for generations (Mydei's family) -reader's mother liked the arts, was more progressive, was married to reader's father in an arranged marriage against her will, but tried her best to make the most of it, reader was the light her dark world and she would do everything she could to give her child the best life with as many opportunities as possible -reader got love of arts from their mother, maybe they paint, sing, dance, play the lyre, theatre, etc. -during a day trip to the city (without reader's father's knowledge), reader's mother helps a young boy, him and reader become friends (this friend is Phainon) -reader's mother died when they were young, maybe around the time Mydei's mother died, earlier or later is up to writer -reader's father and Mydei's father were childhood friends and leads to "hey what if our kids got married?" -Mydei does show some interest in reader watching her dance from afar -Perfect. BOOM! Betrothed. -reader's father is a misogynistic piece of work and takes the opportunity after reader's mother is no longer in the way -he does everything he can to force reader to grow up and prepare for a traditional womanly wife role in order to serve her future husband well and not follow such foolish ideas of school, arts, and travel, "Your job is to serve your husband, you will NOT embarrass me" -no arts or music for reader, they can only find and do it in secret -Phainon and reader practically grow up together -Phainon constantly sneaks into reader's father's estate -reader's father catches Phainon in the house sitting on reader's window one time and chases him away, they only meet up in the garden after that and they meet up in the estate's gardens, maybe he sometimes sneaks reader off the property at night or when their father is away on small adventures -insert cute scenes in the city, in the woods, stargazing, first kiss and holding hands as teenagers -Phainon knows all of reader's dreams of arts, travel, and no arranged marriage, he wants to make their dreams come true -Mydei and reader meetup a few times when they're both of age on "dates" -Mydei tries really hard to be respectful and nice because he genuinely does have some sort of attraction to reader despite reader being somewhat averse (maybe seeing it as falling into their mother's fate) -for reader Mydei has a lot of patience, he really is trying his best -leads to reader and Phainon being young adults and they say "I love you", but oh no, arranged wedding date is coming up -if you want to add a smut for drama, one night that reader's father is out, they sneak Phainon into the house and he has the honor of taking the virginity, maybe there's a little bit of lowkey spiting the world in this act -Phainon suggests reader run away with him -(continued in Part 3)

[vortexbloom]

Undeniable Gravity (OneShot)

Pairing: Phainon x Reader

Fandom: HSR (Honkai Star Rail)

Warnings: Spicy, Angst & Fluff, there isn’t really a plot, made this at my lunch break, Modern Au

─୨ৎ────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────୨ৎ─

Masterlist - Honkai Star Rail

Masterlist - Genshin Impact

Moodboards - Genshin Impact

Masterlist - Marvel

Boycott List

─୨ৎ────୨ৎ────────୨ৎ────୨ৎ─

English isn’t my first/native language, so there might be misspellings etc.

I do NOT own any Characters !

Have fun reading this :D

The city skyline stretched beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows of Phainon’s high rise apartment, the golden glow of streetlights painting long shadows across the sleek interior. You hadn’t meant to come here tonight, not like this, not after everything that had happened between you two.

Yet here you were, back in his presence, feeling the weight of his gaze on you like a gravitational pull you couldn’t escape.

"You’re avoiding me," Phainon murmured, stepping closer, his voice smooth like silk yet laced with something raw beneath the surface.

You exhaled sharply, crossing your arms in defiance. "Can you blame me?"

The air between you crackled with unspoken words, a storm of emotions neither of you had addressed. Your past with him was tangled, complicated, intoxicating, frustrating. He had always been composed, controlled, a man who carried himself with an effortless charm that hid something deeper.

And yet, tonight, his control seemed to be slipping.

"You misunderstand me," he said softly, taking another deliberate step forward. "I never meant to push you away."

You swallowed hard, back meeting the cool glass of the window as he closed the distance between you. His presence was overwhelming, warm, steady, and undeniably alluring.

"Phainon…" you started, but your voice betrayed you, faltering under the intensity of his gaze.

"Tell me to stop," he whispered, his hand barely brushing against your arm, a ghost of a touch that sent shivers down your spine. "Tell me you don’t feel this, and I’ll let you walk away."

Your breath hitched. The truth sat heavy on your tongue, of course, you felt it. The tension, the desire, the way his mere presence made your heart pound like a drum.

But pride was a cruel thing.

"You…You make it so difficult," you admitted, your fingers clenching into fists at your sides.

Phainon exhaled a quiet chuckle, his golden eyes gleaming. "And yet, here you are."

His words unraveled the last of your defenses, and before you could think, before doubt could creep in, he closed the remaining space between you.

His lips hovered over yours, teasing, testing, waiting for permission. And the moment you leaned in, just the slightest movement, he captured you in a kiss that was nothing short of breathtaking.

It was slow at first, deliberate, as though he wanted to memorize every second, every detail of the way you felt against him. But then, something in him broke, and his hands gripped your waist, pulling you flush against his body as the kiss deepened.

You melted into him, fingers threading through his silver hair, your body pressing against the cool glass behind you. The city lights outside blurred, the world beyond this moment ceasing to exist.

He kissed you like he had been waiting for this, aching for it.

And for the first time in a long while, you stopped thinking. You simply let yourself feel.

Because no matter how much you tried to deny it, Phainon was your gravity. And you were tired of resisting.

Have a good day/night/evening/morning/afternoon ☼꥟☽

[imaginarytree]

guys

hear me out

since Flame Reaver is speculated to be the Phainon/Kevin of the first loop and is on some sort of mission which is great angst ammo Hoyo gave

hear me out

Childhood friend! reader who is a guardian of the great tree or something freezing Aedes Elysiae in time so it doesnt dissapear gets punished by the Titans to also freeze in time so he's collecting the coreflames to revive her but he fails over and over and soon meets Astral Express! variant of reader who is subconciously feeding his drive to do so by actively showing him kindness the childhood friend!reader showed him

so imagine Flame Reaver!Phainon getting rid of his disguise and pretending to be Phainon that we know to get the comfort he craves but couldn't get from childhood friend!reader he couldn't save in any loop

hear yee authors

make use of the potential angst handed to you graciously by Hoyo

[myderis]

THE ANCIENT SCRIPT.

BEFORE YOU FOLLOW .ᐟ

★ in this chaos you may find works mostly centered on mydei and phainon x female reader insert, however the goddess of discord won't take anyone's prayers and requests. this blog is not spoiler free. updates won't happen often as i'm a full-time university student and only write as a hobby and a way to relax.

★ blank blogs will be blocked. it takes just a few seconds to customize your profile.

★ you will mostly see fluff─angst─suggestive drabbles and/or ones-shots written in second person pov.

★ reblogs with replies/comments/tags would be more than appreciated. remember to support your favorite authors.

★ while this blog is rated sfw and anyone can interact with my works, i might reblog and interact with nsfw content. so please have a visible age in your profile and/or block the following tag ── #❝ FAVORITE EROS MYTHS ! ── remember that you are responsible for the media you consume.

★ inbox is always open and you are more than welcome to chat with me if you want to be friends. when a goddess gives her word, she's bound for all eternity, so don't be shy, and let's have fun together.

DO NOT INTERACT .ᐟ

★ fit the basic dni criteria, pro-israel, anti-religious, homophobic, don't like female reader insert writing, if you are a minor interacting/writing nsfw content.

THE REWRITTEN SCROLLS.

TAGGING SYSTEM .ᐟ

#❝ ERIS'S MEMENTO ! ─ daily chatter from yours truly.

#❝ MEMENTO MORI ! ─ writing tag.

#❝ SFW ! ─ writing tag.

#❝ MYDEI'S MEMENTO ! ─ writing tag including all works with mydei.

#❝ PHAINON'S MEMENTO ! ─ writing tag including all works with phainon.

#❝ FAVORITE MYTHS ! ─ rebloging works/art. a recs tag.

#❝ FAVORITE MYDEI MYTHS ! ─ rebloging works/art with mydei. a recs tag.

#❝ LOVE LETTER FROM [MUTUAL] ! ─ answering asks from mutuals.

#❝ LOVE LETTER FROM A SECRET ADMIRIER ! ─ answering asks from anonymous.

#❝ FAVORITE EROS MYTHS ! ─ rebloging nsfw works/art. minors do not interact and block this tag.

#❝ SPOILERS ! ─ block this tag in case you don't want to be spoiled.

© MYDERIS. do not translate, plagiarize, or steal my work.

[vxnuslogy]

BLOG RULES/DNI

these rules are in place to ensure my comfort as well as my friends and followers. if you choose to not follow them, please know that i will block you.

⁰ ¹ DO NOT INTERACT IF  . . .

pro shippers (including ships like kaeluc), tolerate any form of discrimination, only here to be rude/hate, want to start unnecessary drama, you don’t have your age displayed in your profile. 

to add more onto this, i cannot control the media you consume nor the ages of people who interact with me, but i would prefer if those under the age of 13 or over the age of 23 do not interact with me (feel free to read and reblog, please just don’t send in asks or dms) 

also i am a minor and i dont like specifying my age, so please don’t ask me to give you a specific number. just know that i am NOT OF AGE.

⁰ ² MAIN RULES  . . .

I CURRENTLY DON’T TAKE REQUESTS. please respect my decision as i don’t think i’ll be able to write requests as of now. in the future, i do plan on opening them.

DON’T SPAM LIKE. please, please, please do not spam like as this can get me shadowbanned. my idea of spam liking is around 5+ posts. if you’d like to support me/show your appreciation for my works please reblog/comment instead.

PLEASE READ CONTENT WARNINGS! i always put content warnings on every work whether it be something like fluff, angst, and any triggering content so please read them. if i ever miss one, please don’t hesitate to tell me so i can fix it.

DON’T VENT/TRAUMA DUMP. be it in my asks or dms, if we are not close or hadn’t had that much interactions. 

DO NOT STEAL/COPY/TRANSLATE/REPOST MY WORKS ON OTHER PLATFORMS.

⁰ ³ ASK BOX RULES  . . .

i reply very slow to asks so please don’t take offense if i don’t answer it immediately (i have a bad habit of mentally replying to messages)

brainrots, random questions, jokes, etc. are very welcome! i love interacting with people who share the same interests as me. just please mind your manners and don’t ask very personal questions.

please do not send in requests if my requests are closed.

any form of hate will be deleted immediately.

⁰ ⁴ THINGS I WILL NOT WRITE FOR  . . .

anything nsfw/suggestive/yandere works. 

character x oc unless its for events or mutuals.

my works will always be in second person.

anything that makes the reader rude, racist, homophobic, etc.

⁰ ⁵ REGARDING UPDATES  . . .

i am very inconsistent with updates/posts. my inspiration/motivations are often random bursts and i only write whenever they appear.

please be patient. as much as i love writing, i have a life outside of it.

i write for me and burn out rather easily which leads to a lot of unfinished projects/works so keep this in mind.

⁰ ⁶ FANDOMS I WRITE FOR  . . . 

i write mainly for genshin impact and star rail. i will try to expand on what i write for (e.g. kn8, bllk, etc.) someday. for now these are the two fandoms i actively write for.

⁰ ⁷ CHARACTERS I WRITE FOR  . . . 

genshin impact. albedo. alhaitham. diluc. dainsleif. kazuha. kaeya. ayato. kaveh. kinich. lyney. neuvillete. heizou. tartaglia. thoma. tighnari. travelers. venti. wanderer. wriothesley. xiao. zhongli.

honkai: stair rail. argenti. aventurine. blade. boothill. dan heng. dr ratio. gallagher. sunday. trailblazers. welt. phainon. mydei.