#castorice x reader

[heliosunny]

I love your yandere aglaea fic!!! And I wanted to request (I don't know if u take requests or not if u don't want to u can ignore 😅) for a yandere castorise fic where reader is very happy go lucky kind of person and wants to be friends with her not knowing how obsessed castorise is with her

Have a great day!!! Byeee~

Yandere!Castorice x Reader

The first time you met her, Castorice stood at the threshold of your humble dwelling, her hair cascading over her shoulders like a waterfall of lavender. There was something unsettlingly quiet about her, a stillness that made the air around her feel heavy, like an eerie lull before a storm. Yet, when she spoke, her voice was smooth, hypnotic, a whisper of wind through the trees.

"You are... unaffected by me."

It wasn't a question, but an observation. Her amethyst eyes, watched you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. You had heard whispers of her abilities- or curse, the way her touch left things wither.. And yet, as you stood there, bathed in the glow of fireflies and the gentle luminescence of your healing sanctuary, you felt nothing but curiosity.

"Well, that makes me special, doesn't it?" you said, beaming.

A hand reached up, brushing away a loose strand of hair from her forehead. The motion was slow, deliberate.

"Yes" she murmured. "Special."

From that moment, she kept coming back.

At first, she claimed it was for conversation, drawn by your warmth, your lighthearted laughter, the way you spoke to her as if she were merely a weary traveler and not something to be feared. You made tea, hummed melodies as you ground herbs, and treated her as if she were simply another patient. But beneath her calm demeanor, behind the gentle way she regarded you, there was a fixation that only deepened with each visit.

One evening, as you handed her a vial of healing tincture, your fingers brushed against hers. A jolt ran through you, not from any ability of hers, but from the way her lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile.

"You are kind" she mused, rolling the glass between her fingers. "Perhaps too kind."

"Is that a bad thing?"

She tilted her head, silver-lavender strands slipping over her shoulders like woven stardust. "It makes you fragile. Fragility invites ruin."

You laughed, lighthearted as always, brushing off her cryptic words. But you didn’t see the way her fingers tightened around the vial, nor the way her eyes darkened as she watched you turn away.

You were the only one immune to her power. The only one who saw her as something more than a shadow lurking in the periphery of existence. And in Castorice’s mind, that meant you were hers. You just didn’t know it yet.

One fateful night, a thief broke into your sanctuary, ransacking your supplies and leaving you battered and weak on the cold floor. You barely remembered the aftermath, your mind fogged with pain, but Castorice was there. When you woke, she was by your bedside, her fingers ghosting over your wounds as a chilling silence settled between you.

You never learned what happened to the thief. But there were whispers of a brutal reckoning in the dead of night, of someone who had disappeared without a trace. Castorice never spoke of it, and you never asked.

Life continued, and so did her visits.

One day, you invited her to a festival in town, eager to share something bright and joyful. To your surprise, she agreed.

That evening, as lanterns flickered to life and the scent of roasted chestnuts and spiced cider filled the air, Castorice walked beside you, a strange, unreadable expression on her face. You led her through the bustling streets, showing her colorful stalls and lively performances. At first, she seemed distant, her gaze flickering over the crowd as though searching for something unseen. But as you placed a sweet pastry in her hand and nudged her toward a game booth, she relented, indulging in the warmth of your presence. Of course, she kept her distance with strangers for their own good.

She watched as you laughed, your eyes alight with childlike excitement. She listened as you spoke about trivial things—your favorite foods, the silly little stories behind the trinkets you admired. And when you bought her a delicate silver hairpin shaped like a butterfly, she held it between her fingers, something almost softening in her expression.

"It suits you" you said, grinning. "You should wear it."

Her fingers traced the edges of the hairpin before she carefully tucked it into her hair. "You are foolish... Y/n.." she murmured, "to be so kind to me."

"Maybe" you said, undeterred. "But I like seeing you happy."

The night stretched on, and when the festival came to an end, you invited her to stay at your home. She accepted without hesitation.

As you settled into bed, exhaustion finally taking hold, Castorice sat beside you, her fingers lightly brushing against your hair. The room was quiet, save for the rhythmic sound of your breathing.

"Sleep" she whispered, her voice barely audible. "You are safe."

Something in her tone felt absolute, unshakable. As your consciousness faded, you felt the last sensation of her cool fingers tracing the side of your face, gentle, possessive.

[rinsanityy]

phainon is no stranger to being a gentleman. whenever the two of you are spending time with one another, he would always be the one to treat you whether it was to lunch or even shopping in the local market. you'll always find his hand pressed to the small of your back but while weaving through crowds, he's got his arm wrapped around your shoulder in order not to lose you in the mass of people. this man is willing to give you the royalty treatment simply because you deserve it. when phainon finds himself deep in his thoughts, you will always be lingering at the back of his mind, and he unconsciously smiles at the mere thought of you.

despite her heart that had long been frozen, aglaea does not fail in the romance department. if you find yourself in the heroes' bath, she will tend to whatever needs you may have and even accompany you during your stay. if she happens to find the time, she will use it wisely and sew a brand new garment just for you. she has already wrapped it up and will hold onto it until she sees you again. the warmth you give by simply being by her side is so unfamiliar yet it is enough to begin thawing her frosted heart.

for the crown prince of castrum kremnos, mydei isn't exactly known for having a kind nature. regardless of his intimidating appearance, it's quite obvious that the prince has grown to have a soft spot for you. if there is someone causing you trouble, mydei will appear by your side and he's already scared the person off with merely one sentence. sometimes the two of you would engage in playful banter, countering the other’s teasing remark with another. mydei will never succumb to fatigue in the midst of battle for he always reminds himself that you are waiting for him on the other side.

being the first chrysos heir to obtain a titan's coreflame and ascend to that of a demi-god, tribbie finds themselves to be somewhat of a mentor figure towards the others. if they ever find out that you're not feeling well, they will make sure to remind you to always take care of yourself. they are always happy to educate you about various topics as they take joy in being able to talk for hours and having someone listening to them intently. it is only natural for the teacher to worry about their student’s well being, how else will they be able to continue guiding you if you’re not in a stable condition to be guided?

she may have no experience whatsoever about romance but that doesn't mean castorice refuses to try and learn. she takes interest in the things that bring you joy and will remember the smallest and most random things about yourself. although her power restricts herself from making any physical contact with you, castorice makes sure to keep you safe and free from harm's way. each passing moment that she spends with you, castorice cherishes each and every one all the same. the servant of death is no stranger to the inevitable fate that awaits you but she cannot even bring herself to think about that when you were so intertwined in the present.

a genius and a charmer basically sums up the kind of person that anaxa is. he is always amused to see you fascinated whenever he displays the unique magic that he holds. similar to tribbie, he is fond of teaching you things without making you feel dumb. he dislikes whenever you downplay your intelligence and assures you that you're talented and intellectually capable in your own way. anaxa is a firm believer that every little part of your being is fascinating, it makes him inclined to continue finding out more about who you are.

hyacine always finds herself pleased to see how well you respond to her affection. although a little shy at first, she is willing to try different things with you. after a tiring day, hyacine simply wants to lay down on a sturdy branch of a big tree with you beside her, watching the birds soar through the sky while the suns fall and stars rise. the priest does not know what future lies in store but what she does know is that one day, when you two have passed on, you will take to the skies beside one another and soar to the stars.. just like the birds the two of you have watched do all the time.

just like how she has a talent for swiping people's valuables, cipher sure has a talent for stealing your heart. seeing as you're already aware of her skill of sleight, you find yourself wondering which poor citizen she swiped whenever you receive a gift from her. although a thief should never linger too long around their target, cipher cannot refuse any request of physical touch from you. you don’t expect much out of the aftermath of a bad day, at least not until a certain thief shows up at your doorstep and greets you with a flower or two that had been swiped from one of the largest flower fields that amphoreus has to offer.

note: written before version 3.1 therefore some if not most characters are ooc. tribbie’s scenario is purely platonic, otherwise the rest of them can be intepreted as romantic or platonic.

©rinsanityy 2025 do not plagiarize or repost my content.

[looneyunu]

Since we already have had Phainon, Anaxa, and Mydei yandere, why don't we make the entire Amphoreus yandere then? Because they are so yummy, of course. (Heavy on Aglaea.)

According to the leaks, it seems like all Titans or Chrysos Heirs have one thing in common — Imperfection.

Like, for Mydei, he is immortal. Castorice is everything she touches will die. Aglaea lost her sight. And many more for the rest. But Phainon seems to be different, as he is referred to as a perfect Chrysos Heir with no imperfection.

So, I am thinking about a silly Abundance reader, who somehow can apparently cure and fix their imperfection in an amount of time without knowing, wandering around Amphoreus and its cities for sightseeing, not acknowledging how much they have affected and changed other lives... Until the day they have to go.

But especially for Aglaea, whose ability can read other minds, will definitely make it impossible for darling to escape. Hehe, and I wonder how far Castorice will go for someone that perfectly fit for her, trying to escape.

By the way, we need more Phainon x reader fanfic and the rest x reader.

[aventurineswife]

🤔 do u have a thought about shrau with amphoreus ?

If I'm not wrong, they just believe in titan as their god right? What about shrau amphoreus with reader as a creator?

Like just Imagine it, when they knew about reader as a creator or aeon reader and how they will react

OKAY OKAY, I MAY NOT BE GOOD AT THIS BUT HEAR ME OUT!

If Amphoreus is a world that reveres Titans as gods, then suddenly discovering the Reader (aka you) as a Creator/Aeon would shake their entire belief system to its core. The Chrysos Heirs, warriors devoted to slaying corrupted Titans and recovering their Coreflames, would have to face the terrifying realization that the entity they’ve been unknowingly serving might be above the very gods they worship.

The Chrysos Heirs—Mydei, Phainon, Castorice—are devoted to prophecy and divine will. If they discovered that the true weaver of fate, the one who oversees their struggles and triumphs, is actually you, their entire worldview would fracture.

Mydei, the Undying Warrior, might react with reverence, but also conflict.

"The Coreflame trials, the prophecy, the Titans... were they mere threads in your tapestry? Have I only been playing my part in a story you have already written?"

He would feel both honored and trapped—knowing that his fate was not his own but also that his suffering had purpose.

Phainon, the Deliverer, might be the first to fully embrace you.

"If you are the one who spins the threads of destiny, then everything we have done… it has been for you, hasn’t it?"

He’d see it as a blessing, a sign that their struggles were leading toward something far greater. He might fully devote himself to you, no longer just as a warrior, but as a disciple.

Castorice, the Daughter of the River Styx, would have an eerie calm about it.

"Death and fate have always danced hand in hand. If you are the one who weaves, then I have been treading upon your strings all my life."

She might not even be surprised—only resigned, knowing that she had always been walking the path you had set.

The people of Amphoreus, especially those who still worship Titans as gods, would be terrified. If they learn that their world is merely a fragment of your design, it could split the faction into two:

Those who believe the Titans are still divine, and you are merely another force in the cosmos.

Those who believe you are the true god—the one above all, the being who even Titans obey.

Some might fall into despair, realizing that their gods are no more than pieces of a larger game board, and that your will can rewrite their fate at any moment. Others might become fanatical, believing that serving you is the only true path.

The Coreflames, remnants of the Titans’ divine power, might now take on an entirely new meaning—if the Titans were once creations under your will, then does that mean their power also stems from you?

If Mydei and Phainon failed the Coreflame Trial, was it because you willed it?

Phainon, who vanished after the trial, might see it as a test from you—a call to prove himself.

Mydei, bound by honor and sacrifice, might struggle with whether his suffering was truly his own choice… or merely an inevitable step in the story you wrote.

The most horrifying realization for them? That every battle, every struggle, every death was something you already knew would happen.

If Mydei has died a thousand times, then you—the Aeon of Fate—must have allowed it each time.

"You… knew? Every strike, every wound, every death I suffered—you saw them all?"

The idea that they were never free, that their victories and failures were written into existence, could be devastating.

Some would see you as salvation rather than as a distant, cosmic force. They’d offer the Coreflames to you as divine tribute, seeing them not as remnants of fallen Titans, but as pieces of a world you once shaped.

The most devout warriors might seek to serve you personally, casting aside their oaths to the Titans and the prophecy.

Mydei, should he fully accept your will, might become your sword of fate, carrying out your judgment across Amphoreus.

Phainon, ever the perfectionist, might strive to prove himself worthy in your eyes, seeking to become your chosen deliverer.

Castorice, attuned to the whispers of death, might become your priestess, ensuring that those who fall in battle meet their end as fate intended.

Once the truth of your existence reaches Amphoreus, the world would never be the same. The Titans' worshippers, the Chrysos Heirs, the Coreflame Trials—everything would shift under the weight of the realization that you have always been watching.

Some will fight for you.

Some will fear you.

Some will desperately seek your favor.

But no matter how they react, one truth remains: they were never beyond your reach.

[coralearei]

The Touch Of Death - Honkai Star Rail - Castorice x Reader - Based on Leaks

gn! reader - huge possibility that this is ooc, I don't know much about the Amphoreus characters yet, as you can see I have a soft spot for purple women

Castorice, who brings death to everything she touches. As her fingers skim any trace of life, it withers away, writhing in its last moments. She knows full well that whatever being is under her fingertips has always been aging, of course; her touch only makes it age faster. Many plants and animals have suffered this fate, and so have a few humans, though not by intention. The human population of Amphoreus is quickly dwindling due to the current state of apocalypse, after all, and Castorice wouldn’t want to make it any worse.

Castorice, who knows from the start that it’s safer not to talk to you. She’s on official business, standing by Aglaea’s side when she sees you for the first time. You are an outsider, that much is obvious. You are not from Amphoreus, and because of that, you are not to be trusted under any circumstances, as much as you seem to draw everyone around you in, and as much as you’ve charmed the locals, which unfortunately includes some of the other Chrysos Heirs.

Castorice, who abhors how much Aglaea trusts you. The Dressmaster starts to become a regular member of your combat party, fighting recklessly with someone she starts to refer to as “the foreigner.” In secret, Castorice relishes the sound of your name, her eyes widening in excitement as she sees it written in the language of Amphoreus.

Castorice, who sees you a few weeks later in Marmoreal Market with your other outsider friend, the stoic one with the scaly, green-and-white jacket. He has presented himself as a decent person, at the very least, but he’s rather… dreary in comparison to you. You look quite cute playing with a Chimera that’s just come up to you. A thought buds itself into Castorice’s mind— she wishes she were the Chimera, shamelessly nuzzling into your boot.

Castorice, who is infuriated the moment you leave Okhema. She reprimands herself for this particular fit of rage, knowing that you’re not supposed to stay in the holy city forever, and vows to act as your shadow while you’re gone. While you sleep, she inches her hand closer to you, careful not to get too close— you can’t be a hero if you’re dead. Still, she revels in unknown moments like these. They are the closest she’ll get to being near you, but they still remain in obscurity. The only thing you notice is something that vaguely resembles the silhouette of a smoky indigo dragon.

Castorice, who spots you at the Marmoreal Palace— presumably, it’s your first time, given your adorable yelps as you try to soak in the water, seemingly too hot for you. A few people have noticed her nearly gawking at you by now, and she makes an exaggerated turn before stomping away to the section of the bathhouse reserved for Chrysos Heirs, letting a wave of embarrassment sink in. At the very least, you haven’t noticed.

Castorice, who listens to Mydei recount his tall tales of combat in the reserved bath. You’re in the story he’s telling, fearlessly swinging your baseball bat through hordes of Titankin before Mydei delivers his glorious finishing blow. 

Castorice, who hears you everywhere. Not only your voice, but the voices of others praising you. She hates how close everyone around her is to you… why can’t she be the same?

Castorice, who laments how distant you are, and how far you will always remain from her.

[akutasoda]

amphoreus

who do i write for? - mydei, anaxa, castorice, aglaea, phainon

»multi

- seems pretty empty...

»fics

- my hated prince, let me rest - mydei

»headcannons and drabbles

- a heart that burns for desire - mydei

all

- seems pretty empty...

[lunaressa]

🌸 my HoYoLAB, Pinterest: Lunaressa

[ddiwata]

peace with you

— mydeimos x fem! healer reader

— first drabble methinks?:3 basically r’s the opposite of castorice. fluffy!! REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!

— mentions of death, lowercase intended. no use of y/n, unfortunately kind of ooc!!

she was a stubborn child. climbing jagged rocks, clawing at trees only for her to slip, fall, and start crying out for her mother. weak— that’s what she was. until she was chosen to be a chrysos heir.

closed off was how she was viewed, quiet, kind. of course, mydeimos has always been brash. he teases, he pokes and creates snarky remarks out of thin air, especially with phainon.

her heart thumps. faster. she noticed it happened everytime she was with the prince, her hands shaky, mind a mess. titans above, love was such an unfamiliar concept to someone like her. blessed and cursed with immortality, born to be a servant to the people after her years of recklessness.

she can feel it, too. his.. suffering. it isn’t a secret. he’s closed off like a labyrinth she can’t quite unlock, can’t quite find her way through the dark maze.

be afraid, his fury knows no bounds, they warn, the same people who revered the man spoke, warily. he was ruthless. so why did she have to fall for someone like.. him?

the mighty healer hurts, too. not physically— that isn’t one of her capabilities. her heart aches in her chest when he gets hurt. when he dies, again and again. his wounds pain her, and she’s sure he doesn’t miss the way she trembles as a gentle warmth soothes his skin, the wounds fading into nothing but scars. disappearing into the past, like it was nothing ever serious.

but it was. it was too serious for her.

“why are you crying over me?” mydei whispers to the healer, his hands tightening into fists. his heart clenches. he wasn’t supposed to have one of those. he wasn’t supposed to feel. but gods, why does it hurt when she cries? “i’m fine. see, girl?” he huffs, feigning annoyance at the show of emotions.

but she doesn’t stop sobbing, and his tall figure softens, slouching ever so slightly. although his guard was still up, as always. without any hesitation, he reaches out, embracing the other tightly, tucking her underneath his chin.

“you take care of me every time, pretty,” he gruffly whispers, the pet name unfamiliar, but welcomed. “i’m not dying any time soon. and you aren’t either, yeah? you’ll be stuck with me until the end of times.” his calloused hand reaches down to intertwine with hers.

his lips press against her forehead, a silent promise he would never leave her, not now, not in a million years. the pain and regret plaguing him eased slowly, and he exhaled, relishing in the warmth of the healer in his arms.

[hitomisuzuya]

Professor Aventurine and a dumb student who's failing his class.

professor!aventurine x fem!reader. smut. sex toys. creampie.

how we all liking amphoreus? i absolutely love the dinosaurs oml! 🦕 and i am officially saving for castorice.

fortune follows luck, just like it always does. aventurine has always sworn by this statement. it certainly was proving true for him. the good fortune lying next to him on his bed, you, is both an exquisite and delicate treat.

a "tutoring" session turned into you stripped naked with a rabbit vibrator pumping in and out of your sloppy cunt while he grades papers. his gloved hand rubbed your thigh soothingly on occasion when you started to whimper in between your moans.

"tell me, sweetheart, do you remember what i said the very first day of classes?" he asked, casually stroking your inner thigh.

of course you did. you hung on his every word during class, diligently taking notes. you are smart in oh so many ways, however, things just didn't quite connect with you when they needed to. a trait he found adorable despite the fact you are flunking his class.

the rabbit ears set on timed intervals hummed to life, stimulating your throbbing clit as you let out a string of quite frankly adorable moans. twinged with desperation all for him. truly lucky indeed in his humble opinion.

"it's the beggars who know what they truly want," he knew his voice always has such an effect on you. his tone practically told you what he wants from you, his ever present smile reading: you know what to do.

your watery eyes lit up at the prospect of giving aventurine whatever he wants. he rubs your thigh soothingly as you squirm on the bed, the vibrator no longer bullying your sweet spot, sitting still between your walls as the rabbit ears on your clit made them clench around it.

"p-profeseor, are you al-almost done?" your eyes are pleading as you look at him, your shaking fingers pinching your nipples for the stimulation you are craving. he chuckles at how cutely you stumble over your words. "i really, really-oh fuck-," you are starting to whimper, the rabbit ears hit your clit just right. your back arches as you pathetically try and grind your clit on the ears, struggling to nudge the toy into your sweet spot.

you gasp in pleasure as the vibrator started to hum unmoving against your walls. that made something snap inside of you, your words tumbling out of your mouth. "i need you, professor please. please, i can barely stand it. please, fuck me, please!" your lower lip trembles to further convey your desperation.

your begging makes aventurine's cock throb in his pants. he purposely left his clothes on just to tease you further and strengthen your desperation for him. his fingers have been twitching the whole time to stroke and palm his cock to the sounds of your begging.

"such sweet begging, sweetheart," aventurine's honeyed praise made your walls clench tighter on the vibrator. "i promised you my cock when i was finished, but to reward your utter display of smarts, i'll up the ante. and cum inside of you."

your breath hitches in anticipation as aventurine set his pen down. his hypnotic eyes slid over your twitching body as he stood up. your eyes drink the sight of him taking off his clothes, finally getting to lay eyes on his hard cock.

crawling on the bed next to you, aventurine turns off the rabbit vibrator. he is pleased to see the wet mess he'd worked your pussy into as he took the toy out. he has you exactly where he wants you.

you let a moan feeling his leaking cock head pressing on your abused clit. your hips jerk up to grind on it. "i'm so in love with you it hurts professor," you suddenly said, a knee jerk response to feeling your orgasm coil tighter in a whole new way. "please, please cum inside me. i want it so bad."

"so adorable, spilling things to me that i already know," it didn't take a genius to figure out you are in love with him. but damn it, it made his cock harder hearing the verbal confession from you.

you are nearly cumming instantly on his cock as it stretched you apart. you let out a moan like you'd just received something you need but was denied it for years.

"that's my good girl," aventurine groans, shivering as he bottomed out. your fate is all but sealed. your pussy and your heart belong to him. "keep moaning for me just like that," he'd spent long nights fisting his cock imagining how wet and tight you were going to feel, and now he was going to bask in it.

his cock makes almost unholy squelching noises as it pumps in and out of you. pleasure burns white hot behind your eyes as he drove it into your sweet spot. the clutching of your walls makes aventurine lose all the composure and restraint he had in pursuing you.

you just felt too tight and too perfect for him for him not to fuck you raw and senseless until you were drooling.

your breasts bounced in time with his calculated thrusts. he put a hand on the headboard to give him better leverage, his hips all smacking into yours. your fingernails frantically scratch at his skin to ground yourself amidst the dizzying pleasure of his cock fucking into you.

"so big," you mewl, tilting your head up to deliver a submissive kitten lick on his mouth. "your cock feels so good, professor," one of your arms drops from around him, your fingers hastily rubbing your clit. your orgasm is close enough to taste.

"cum for me, my precious little pet," he moans, breathless from how hard his cock pulsed as your pussy sucks it inside you.

that was it took to plunge you over the edge, moans bordering on screams of pleasure as you cum hard on his cock. it is utterly exhilarating for aventurine to feel your pussy begging to milk his cock dry.

he clutched at your waist as his cock emptied inside of you, holding your twitching body still and forcing you to feel every pulse of his cock. "you are all mine now, sweetheart," he tenderly cupped your cheek, mindlessly fucking his cum up inside you.

[heliosunny]

ur yandere crown prince!phainon x reader fic was so delicious i hope you write more of it

I wrote a ton of drafts for these rq :)))) so here u r~

also does anyone know any artists that I can contact and ask for their art permission to feature the fics? Will def give full credits ✨✨ i tried to dm some but they r too busy

Yandere!Crown Prince Phainon x Reader - P2

Visit [part 1]

Your days of healing were slow, yet never lonely. Phainon remained at your side, his devotion unwavering. He ensured you were comfortable, personally overseeing your meals, your medicine, and the servants attending you.

“You needn’t stay with me all day.” you murmured weakly one evening, attempting to reassure him.

His eyes softened, but his voice was firm. “Where else would I be?”

Even on the darkest nights, when you stirred from fevered dreams, he was there—his hand brushing away the damp strands of hair from your forehead, his voice a quiet promise that you would never suffer alone.

Your interactions were not without company. Mydei, Anaxa, and Castorice visited frequently, each bringing a different kind of relief.

“I must admit, I never expected to see His Highness so domestic” Anaxa mused one afternoon, lounging in a chair across from your bed as Phainon carefully adjusted your pillows.

“Perhaps he intends to abandon the throne and become a caretaker” Castorice teased.

Phainon, unimpressed, shot them both a glare. “Mock me again, and I’ll have you both reassigned to the coldest region in the kingdom.”

Mydei merely sipped his tea. “A small price to pay to witness this sight.”

You laughed softly, the warmth in your chest easing the discomfort in your body. “You all act as though His Highness is incapable of kindness.”

Anaxa smirked. “Oh, he is plenty kind—to you.”

Phainon sighed and dismissed them with a wave of his hand. “If you’re all finished with your nonsense, she needs rest.”

Despite his scolding, the presence of his closest allies eased the burdens of war and betrayal—if only for a moment.

Though bedridden, you refused to be idle. As soon as your strength allowed, you assisted Phainon with his paperwork, offering insights and solutions that even his advisors had overlooked.

“You do not need to exhaust yourself with this.” Phainon had told you, watching as you scribbled notes beside him.

“I may not hold a sword, but my mind is still sharp” you replied, meeting his gaze with quiet determination.

He stared at you for a long moment before a rare, fond smile graced his lips. “That, my love, is undeniable.”

Your counsel became invaluable. Even in his darkest days, when the weight of war and treachery threatened to consume him, you were there to steady him.

“You are not alone in this” you reminded him, reaching for his hand.

Phainon exhaled, his fingers lacing with yours. “Then stay by my side always.”

You did.

But that loyalty made you a target.

Many sought to harm Phainon, seeing you as his greatest weakness. Assassination attempts were frequent, but none succeeded. You remained wary, but one day, you overheard something chilling—a plot to poison your husband.

That night, you clasped his hand tightly. “Do not drink from your goblet at tomorrow’s council meeting.”

Phainon stilled. “What did you hear?”

You explained in hushed tones. He listened, silent and composed, but beneath the surface, a storm raged.

“They should trouble you no more” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your knuckles.

The next morning, the traitors never made it past the palace gates.

Phainon had acted swiftly, eliminating the conspirators before their poison could ever reach him.

But the attack had shifted something in him.

“I have been too lenient,” he told you one evening, standing by the window, eyes dark with thought. “If they continue to see you as my weakness, they will never stop.”

The next day, he left to secure the borders and reinforce the kingdom’s security.

Though he was gone, he ensured you were protected. Mydei, ever reliable, checked on you frequently.

“I don’t know whether to be honored or exhausted” Mydei sighed one evening, setting down a fresh report. “His Highness treats me as your personal shadow.”

“And yet, you do not complain” you noted with a smile.

He smirked. “How could I, when you provide better conversation than half the court?”

Despite Phainon’s instructions for you not to overthink, you couldn’t help yourself. Late into the nights, you drafted plans, strategies to strengthen his efforts and had Mydei deliver them.

“You should rest” Mydei warned. “His Highness would not be pleased if he knew you were losing sleep over his affairs.”

“Then do not tell him” you replied simply.

Though he shook his head, Mydei never failed to deliver your letters.

One day, you received an unexpected visitor. A delegation from a foreign kingdom had arrived, requesting an audience. Among them was their prince, a striking man with sharp eyes and a confident air.

“It is an honor to meet you, Your Highness.” he greeted, offering a practiced smile. “I have heard much of your wisdom.”

Something about the way he looked at you—too keen, too interested—put you on edge.

The foreign prince sat across from you in the grand receiving hall, his presence commanding yet unfamiliar. His kingdom had sent an official delegation, but his interest in you felt far more personal.

“I have heard much of your wisdom, Your Highness.” he said smoothly, offering a charming yet calculating smile. “It is no wonder your husband values your counsel so highly.”

You kept your posture composed, your hands delicately folded in your lap. “You flatter me” you replied politely, though your instincts urged caution.

“It is not flattery, merely truth” he countered, his gaze lingering just a moment too long. “I find it fascinating that a woman of your intellect and grace holds such influence over the kingdom’s future.”

You stiffened slightly, recognizing the underlying implication. This was not just a diplomatic visit—he was testing boundaries.

Phainon rode back to the capital sooner than expected, his presence heralded by the sight of his royal banner unfurling against the evening sky.

He had been away for weeks, ensuring the kingdom’s borders were secure, eradicating threats before they could reach you. But the moment Mydei’s latest report reached him—detailing the foreign prince—he abandoned all else.

The throne, the court, the war—none of it mattered in that instant.

Only you.

The moment he stepped foot in the palace, he demanded answers.

“Where is she?” His voice was ice, sharp enough to cut through the air.

Mydei met his gaze steadily. “With the foreign delegation, Your Highness.”

The sound of Phainon’s gloves tightening around his sword hilt cut him off.

Without another word, he strode toward the receiving hall.

You felt the change in the air before you saw him.

A sudden tension rippled through the court as the heavy doors to the hall slammed open.

Phainon stood at the entrance, his blue eyes burning with cold fury. His cloak billowed behind him as he stepped forward, each movement deliberate, controlled—but the grip on his sword said otherwise.

The foreign prince looked up, clearly intrigued rather than intimidated. “Ah, Your Highness. We were just speaking of you.”

Phainon’s gaze never left yours. “Leave.”

The prince raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”

Phainon turned his head slightly—just enough to fix the man with a chilling glare. “I said, leave. Before I stain this floor with your blood.”

The court fell silent.

You rose gracefully from your seat, placing a calming hand on Phainon’s arm. “My love, we must not—”

“Did he touch you?” Phainon asked lowly, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, startled by the lethal edge to his tone. “No, of course not.”

“Then he still breathes only because of that.”

The foreign prince chuckled, clearly entertained. “Your reputation precedes you, Crown Prince. I meant no offense—only admiration.”

Phainon’s expression remained unreadable, but the tension in his body was palpable.

“Admiration is not an excuse to covet what belongs to me.”

His words sent a chill through the room.

You sighed internally. If you didn’t intervene now, there would be bloodshed.

“Your Highness” you addressed the foreign prince with measured calm, “perhaps it is best we conclude this meeting. My husband has just returned, and I would prefer to greet him in peace.”

For a moment, the prince hesitated—then he smiled knowingly, as if he had learned something from this encounter.

“Of course, Crown Princess. Until we meet again.”

Phainon did not move until the foreign prince had fully exited the hall.

The moment the doors shut behind him, Phainon exhaled sharply, turning to you with eyes still dark with restrained fury.

“Why was he here?”

“Diplomatic matters” you answered honestly. “He arrived unexpectedly, and I could not refuse an audience.”

His jaw tightened. “You should have sent him away.”

“And insult his kingdom?” You shook your head. “You know as well as I do that—”

“I do not care for his kingdom.” His voice was low, dangerous. “I care for you.”

He reached forward, grasping your hands—gently, but with an urgency that sent warmth through your fingertips.

“You are my wife. My Queen-to-be. I will not tolerate another man looking at you the way I do.”

Your breath caught at the intensity in his eyes.

You had always known Phainon’s love was possessive. But in this moment, you realized—his devotion had deepened into something even more dangerous.

“You do not need to be jealous” you murmured, squeezing his hands.

“It is not jealousy,” he corrected softly. “It is certainty. Certainty that you are mine, and mine alone.”

You sighed, stepping closer. “Then let me ease your worries.”

Phainon searched your expression, as if looking for reassurance, before his hand came up to cradle your face.

“If he or anyone else dares look at you again, I will end them before they even breathe your name.”

The foreign prince’s departure did not bring peace. If anything, it only stirred the waters further.

Days after the tense encounter, rumors swept through the court—whispers that the foreign kingdom had taken offense to Phainon’s hostility. Some nobles feared war, while others murmured about the foreign prince’s persistence.

And then, one night, a letter arrived.

Delivered in secrecy, sealed with foreign wax.

Phainon found it first.

He recognized the handwriting immediately—too refined, too familiar.

“I was most intrigued by our meeting, Your Highness. I regret we did not have more time to speak in private. I will not give up so easily. Expect to see me again soon.”

The parchment crumpled in his grip.

The fool had dared to send you a personal letter.

Phainon’s hand twitched toward his sword, his first instinct to ride out and end this persistent nuisance before he could step foot in the kingdom again.

But then, he breathed.

Killing him now would make the foreign prince a martyr. A justified war.

No—Phainon would play this game his way.

And he would ensure this man never had a chance to see you again.

The foreign prince's entourage vanished at the border, their horses found wandering near the cliffs. The official reports claimed an unfortunate accident—bandits, perhaps, or a treacherous fall during the night.

But those who truly understood the workings of the kingdom knew better.

When you heard the news, you merely glanced at Phainon over dinner.

“Did you do this?”

He took a slow sip of his wine before replying. “Do you truly wish to know?”

You held his gaze for a long moment before shaking your head. “No.”

A small, satisfied smile curled at his lips. “Then let us speak of other matters.”

The foreign prince was not the only one who coveted you.

Among the noble families, admiration turned to resentment. Many had once hoped to claim the position you now held, and among them was Lady Evanthe, the daughter of a powerful Duke.

She had been raised to believe she would one day stand beside Phainon as queen.

But you had stolen that future.

And she would not forgive you for it.

One evening, as you walked through the palace gardens, a voice called out to you.

“Your Highness.”

You turned, meeting the sharp gaze of Lady Evanthe. She was beautiful—icy and composed, draped in a flowing white gown that gave her an almost ghostly presence under the moonlight.

“Lady Evanthe” you acknowledged cautiously.

She curtsied, but there was no warmth in her movements. “Forgive me for the sudden approach, but I wished to speak with you alone. It is a matter of… concern.”

You did not trust her. But you were not a coward.

“Then speak.”

She tilted her head. “Do you truly believe you are suited to be queen?”

You raised a brow. “That is not for me to decide. It is Phainon’s will, and the will of the king.”

Her lips curved slightly. “Yes. But wills can change.”

A threat. Thinly veiled, but a threat nonetheless.

You did not flinch. “What are you suggesting?”

Evanthe stepped closer. “I am suggesting that your presence is unnatural. You have disrupted what should have been, stolen what was meant for another. You were not born for this role. You were not raised for it. You are a mere daughter of a noble house—nothing more.”

“And yet, I stand where you do not.”

Her smile faltered. “Do you think yourself untouchable?”

“No,” you said evenly. “But I am protected.”

And as if summoned by your words, a shadow loomed behind you. Phainon.

His arrival was silent, but his presence was suffocating. His blue eyes flickered to Evanthe, sharp as a blade.

“Lady Evanthe,” he greeted, voice deceptively calm. “You seem lost.”

She took a step back, stiffening. “Your Highness, I was merely—”

“Insulting my wife” he interrupted smoothly.

A beat of silence.

“That was not my intention—”

“Oh?” Phainon’s gaze darkened. “Then I must be mistaken. But I do so hate being mistaken.”

Evanthe paled. She knew what he was. She knew what he could do.

And yet, she had been foolish enough to believe she could challenge you.

“This will be the last time you speak to her” Phainon continued “If I so much as hear your name in her presence again, I will erase your house from history.”

Evanthe swallowed hard, her fingers trembling at her sides.

“Do you understand?”

She curtsied—low, deep, desperate. “Yes, Your Highness.”

Without another word, she turned and fled.

You sighed, glancing at Phainon. “You didn’t have to terrify her.”

He looked down at you, expression unreadable. “Do you want them to challenge you?”

You hesitated. “No, but—”

“Then let them fear.”

His hand found yours, lacing your fingers together.

“You are mine” he murmured. “And I will burn down this kingdom before I let anyone take you from me.”

Disguised in simple clothing, you had slipped past the palace gates under the cover of dusk, accompanied only by a single trusted handmaiden. You had always known that rulers must understand their people, but what you witnessed in the city left a heavy weight in your chest. Cracked roads, hungry children, merchants struggling under unfair taxation—troubles that never reached the palace halls. You knew Phainon was focused on war and politics, but this? This needed to be fixed.

By the time you returned to the palace, you were already drafting solutions in your mind to present to him first thing in the morning.

But Phainon had found out before then. And he was waiting.

The moment you stepped into your chambers, the air shifted.

"Close the door" came a voice from the shadows.

Your heart skipped. The handmaiden behind you flinched, bowing quickly before retreating. The doors shut.

You turned slowly.

Phainon sat in the chair near the window, bathed in moonlight. His eyes glowed in the dim room, sharp and unreadable.

"Did you think I wouldn’t know?" His voice was dangerously soft.

You swallowed, steadying yourself. "I had a reason—"

"You disobeyed me."

You exhaled sharply. "Phainon, I do not exist solely to obey you."

He stood, and in an instant, he was in front of you, close enough for his warmth to press against your skin, close enough for you to see the way his jaw tensed in barely contained fury.

"You left the palace alone," he seethed. "Without guards. Without me."

"I needed to see things for myself" you countered, refusing to step back. "There are people suffering under policies that have gone unnoticed—"

"And what would have happened if someone recognized you? If they had tried to take you from me?"

You hesitated, but only for a breath. "Then I would have dealt with it."

He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Would you? Would you have fought them while injured? While still recovering from the last attempt on your life?"

Silence.

Then, he inhaled, slow and controlled.

"You don’t understand." he murmured, voice quieter now—but no less intense. "Every time you are out of my sight, I can feel the threats closing in. I can feel the daggers aimed at your back. You are my greatest treasure, and yet you walk straight into the lion’s den without hesitation."

Your heart ached.

"I’m not trying to make you worry" you whispered.

He closed his eyes briefly, his forehead pressing against yours.

"And yet you do."

For a moment, the world stilled.

Then, a sudden clank echoed through the chamber, followed by a low thud.

The two of you turned sharply.

The door.

Locked.

Phainon’s lips pressed into a thin line as he stepped forward, testing the handle. When it didn’t budge, his gaze darkened. "Someone will die for this."

You sighed, rubbing your temples. "It’s the wind, Phainon. The lock on this door is old—it must have fallen into place when the door shut."

He didn’t look convinced.

"So we’re stuck?"

"Until morning, most likely."

A long silence.

Then, without warning, Phainon turned, grabbed you by the waist, and lifted you effortlessly into his arms.

"What are you—?"

"If we are to be trapped, we might as well be comfortable." he stated, carrying you toward the bed.

You huffed, crossing your arms. "I can walk, you know."

"And yet you do not stop me."

You scowled, but didn’t protest.

Lying in the dim candlelight, neither of you spoke for a long while.

Then, softly- "I’m sorry" you said.

Phainon stilled beside you.

You turned to face him, eyes sincere. "I won’t apologize for wanting to help the people, but I will apologize for worrying you."

His eyes studied you, unreadable at first, then, slowly, something softened in them.

"I should not cage you" he admitted. "I know that. And yet, the thought of losing you—" He exhaled. "It would unmake me."

Your chest ached. Gently, you reached out, intertwining your fingers with his.

"Then let me promise you this," you whispered. "I will be careful. I will not put myself at risk needlessly. But in return, you must trust me to act when I see injustice."

He was silent.

Then, finally, he squeezed your hand.

"Very well."

You smiled, relieved.

But just as you began to relax, a shiver ran through you.

Cold.

Phainon noticed instantly.

"You’re trembling."

"I’m fine" you lied, though the way you curled into yourself said otherwise.

He tsked, pulling you into his warmth. "Foolish woman" he murmured against your hair. "You’ve caught a cold."

You groaned. "It’s not my fault."

"Oh, but it is" he teased, a smirk curling his lips. "Weak from your last injury, sneaking out into the cold air… truly, you should be grateful that I am strong. At least our future children will have excellent physical condition."

You swatted at him weakly. "Phainon!"

He chuckled, shifting to hold you closer, his arms an unyielding shield around you.

"Sleep" he murmured. "I will be here when you wake."

[starrygazers]

if touch could speak.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ I'm working on a longer fantasy au piece for Mydei that I hopefully will see to finish :c also procrastinating on studying for my midterms lol. also I'm sorry if I write about Mydei's immortality a lot I hope it doesn't get repetitive lol, I just love this aspect of his character and I think it has so much potential

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : hurt with comfort? established relationship, Mydei's touch-starved lol

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : Mydei x gn! reader

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

His hands are rough. They've wielded spears, taken countless of lives, and crawled back from death.

He doesn't belong among the dead or the living. Castorice looks at him like he's an anomaly, because he knows. His hands have knocked on death's door time and time again, and it never opened for him.

He doubts it ever will. Castorice never meets his eyes.

Mydeimos has learned from the past, taking his experience and applying it for the future that he knows he'll live to see. If everyone around him is doomed to agony, then he will keep to himself. If he is destined to walk a path paved from the bodies of his loved ones, comrades, teachers, and kingdom, then he will build walls as tall as the gods he worshipped.

He'll stay by his lonesome, where he can't hurt anyone else. Where no one else can hurt him. The only touch that he delivers is that of death, a warrior's farewell, from the tip of his spear.

Mydeimos has always fared himself a strong warrior. He didn't know his defense could crumble so easily, in such a short time, by just a mere touch from you.

Then again, he is a warrior of Castrum Kremnos, once thought to be undefeated, crumbling under the touch of a god, and he thinks you're a deity.

When you touch his cheek, Mydeimos feels warmth course through his body. It's a different kind of fire ─ not so much the adrenaline he gets during battle. It's a softer, kinder, gentler fire. It doesn't swallow him whole, it blooms slowly, leaving curious tingles where your skin ends and his starts.

When he leans his head to your touch, he feels rejuvenated. He thinks back of the lessons he had as a child ─ this must be what the gods feel when they drink ambrosia. A sweet sensation he wishes would last forever.

When he takes your hand in his, he feels something he rarely has the chance of holding ─ life. Your pulse, blood coursing through you. You're here, whole, with your warm smile and soft words.

Mydeimos' hands are rough. They've wielded spears, taken countless of lives, and crawled back from death. Yet, when he wraps his arms around your frame and pulls you closer to him, he hopes that it can convey the things his pride would never allow him to say:

I love you, please stay.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

©2025 starrygazers. do not repost, copy, translate, modify, or use for AI.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ if you liked this, consider buying me a ko-fi! (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) .ᐟ.ᐟ

[multifandomxzion]

Phaindei x Moonian! Reader pt.2

(Spoilers for Amphoreas quest)

Aglaea had sent for you, Caelus, and Dan Heng at the heroes bath, truly, an urgent matter. Upon getting there you had been snatched into a crowd. The people of Okhema City had been truly mesmerized by your darkened beauty, A true being from the moon! with skin dark enough to resemble a solar eclipse like the legend! They kept bombarding you with questions about living on the moon and showering you with compliments, It didnt seem like they were gonna leave you alone anytime soon..

Reader: Go on without me guys, ill be there! Promise!

Caelus: We dont have time for this!

Dan Heng: Cmon! We'll stall for them!

As Caelus and Dan Heng get there, their met with Phaindei, Aglaea and Castorice. Aglaea is sending Phainon and Mydei after Nikador in Kremnos, and needs someone to accompany them into battle!

Caelus: Ill go! He wont stand a chance against my master baseball bat!

Phainon: Uhh.. what?

Dan Heng: Dont mind him... *facepalms*

Mydei steps directly into Caelus's view. Towering over Caelus

Mydei: If you cannot take this mission seriously, Esteemed guests, then me and Phainon will traverse alone.

Caelus: I am being serious! One swing here and we'll be good to go! Or, Should I use my lance? I don't think my hat will really do good against a titan..

Dan Heng: Clearly..

Aglaea: Are you sure you wouldn't mind staying here Sir Heng? Maybe you should go aswell

Dan Heng: Im perfectly fine staying here, plus, I dont think Reader can stand anymore "publicity"

Aglaea: Publicity?

Suddenly the elevator to the heroes bath whirls to life and as if on time you show up, Your clothing slightly ripped

Reader: Sorry about the late entry.. They wouldnt leave me alone at all down there! Practically jumped me!

Caelus: *points at you, laughing hysterically*

Castorice: Dear me.. Are you Ok Reader?

Reader: As "ok" as I'll ever be..

Mydei looks over to you and immediately freezes, him too being captivared by you

Mydei: By the gods..

Phainon: Thats the one I was telling you about, jaw dropping arent they?

Mydei: I... *Ahem*-

Mydei walks over to you, staring you directly in the eye.

Mydei: Dan Engh is proposing to stay here while me, Phainon and your commerade storm in battle against Nikador, You are to come with us Moonian.

Reader: Wait what-

Aglaea: Then tis decided. You 4 will journey down to Kremnos to face off Nikador. Wanderers from beyond the sky, can we trust you?

Reader: I dont even know what I got signed up for but yeah?

Caelus: Yes Ma'am!

Phainon: Yknow reader, If we're still kicking after this is over, we should marry!

*Phainon says that and smiles like an innocent young lad, like as if they arent about to battle a LITERAL TITAN, which earns a facepalm from Mydei and Castorice, A blush from you, and A side-eye from CaeHeng*

Phainon: Hm? What?

(Editors Note: No that wasnt an error, In this x reader Mydei simply doesnt know how to say Dan Heng's name 😭)

Pt.3

Back

[townofsin]

Mydei x Reader Headcanons - Arranged Marriage ver.

Mydei always knew that as the crown prince Castrum Kremnos, he would not get around an eventual arranged marriage (unless he found a suitable wife by himself, but be fr he doesn't have time for that)

As the princess of Styxia you were a perfect fit - what would work better than a nation of war and a nation of death

That being said: Both of you despised the idea of getting married, no matter how often the elders attempted to convince you of all the advantages and why it would be good.

Plus, since Mydeimos was crown prince and the Chrysos Heir of the Lance of Fury everyone believed you'd turn out to be the Chrysos Heir of the Hand of Shadow (which turned out to be Castorice)

Your first meeting went absolutely horrible

Your parents had arranged for a dinner with just the two of you and while Mydei does have some manners and etiquette, that does not mean he'd use them to make you swoon and the same accounted for you. Most of the dinner was spent with eating in silence and glaring at each other like the other had commited a heinous crime

Until...

"So you're a Chrysos Heir, too?" "No." "???" "My parents would like to believe that. But I know I'm not."

Mydei was confused, he had heard of the legendary powers of the Princess of Styxia, so how come you weren't an heir just like him? It made him wonder whether or not those stories were all just made up

"I don't know where my powers came from, if that is what you're wondering" you told him as you took another bite

So at least the dinner wasn't a total disaster, you two had exchanged a total of like five sentences

This also was the only meeting you two had before the wedding - you took your vows in front of the crowd and kissed

surprisingly, Mydei was a good kisser, his lips so much softer than you expected them to be

After the wedding you were expected to move to Castrum Kremnos, it wasn't like you hated it. It was just so different from Styxia. all the brutality and readiness to fight did not suit you

It wasn't long after that when Mydeimos approached you and told you he was leaving for the Holy City Okhema

"I am an heir, too. They need me there. I don't expect you to come with me." "Why are you telling me? You don't owe me an explanation." "You're my wife."

This was enough to make you blush, and to make the decision for you. You didn't even think about it before answering.

"I am coming with you."

Mydei was too stunned to speak, and before he could even open his mouth you already cut him off.

"I always wanted to visit the Holy City, I heard it's truly beautiful."

The very same night both of you ran away, leaving behind Castrum Kremnos and you were welcomed into the Holy City

While Mydei did not have any parents to worry about him yours were sick with worry and were ready to let hellfire rain upon Castrum Kremnos for losing their only daughter, until you sent them a letter that informed them that you and Mydeimos left the city together to fulfil his duty as Chrysos Heir

Mydei often travelled to complete his duty while you mostly stayed behind, not that he did not trust you or thought of you as weak, he didn't want to needlessly endanger you for something that wasn't your duty

BUT whenever you do join them both of you work together amazingly as a team

[aventurineswife]

Castorice and a Reader from Xianzhou directly afflicted with a curse of Abundance (unable to die and the whole shebang that comes with it).

Bloody hell, Castorice and any immortal character (like Bladie and Mydei) sounds like a recipe for very interesting dynamics.

Anyway—

Reader trying to follow the Trailblazer and Dan Heng after they lost contact to find out what happened and make sure they’re still alive and, just like the latter two, Reader’s car ends up getting shot out of the sky by one of Nikador’s arrows — spears? — and they end up crash-landing with some injuries. Unlike Dan Heng and TB, they landed much further away with no one around to call for help, and end up having to hobble along a greater distance before finally reaching Okhema.

Which means they have no idea who the Chrysos Heirs are, much less about Castorice, who happens to be the very first person Reader approaches to ask about a clinical location.

Like, Reader literally walks up to her from behind before anyone nearby can warn them, and even puts their hand on her shoulder to get her attention before dropping dead.

And they wake up with their head on Castorice’s lap. Why? Because TB came across the commotion when Castorice was freaking out and after assuring her Reader would be just fine and eventually wake up, TB decided to be a mischievous raccoon and say that Reader will probably feel more comfortable if their head rested on Castorice’s lap. 😅

The first thing Reader asks when they wake up is, “Since when has death looked so beautiful…?”

A surefire sign that Reader has lost the brain cell (because it went back to Dan Heng).

Reader’s curse acts quickly, though, and adjusts so that the next time Reader accidentally gets too close to Castorice, nothing happens — which means Castorice now has a friend who can safely tag alongside her.

Where Death Cannot Touch

Summary: After a crash caused by a Nikador's spear, you, cursed with the affliction of Abundance (immortality), find yourself stranded and injured. On a desperate search for the Trailblazer and Dan Heng, you collapse on the outskirts of Okhema. There, you awaken in the lap of Castorice, one of the Chrysos Heirs, a serene and ethereal mortician with a deep connection to death. Despite the curse that makes you unable to die, a subtle shift in your magic allows you to safely be near her, and an unexpected bond forms between the two of you, offering the promise of safety and understanding.

Tags: Castorice x Reader, Immortality (Abundance Curse), Comfort/Healing, Slow Burn, Found Family, Romance (Slow/Developing), Prophecy.

Warnings: Injury (Crash-related), Immortality/Curse, Some angst due to the curse, Brief mentions of death, Light humor in dialogue(s).

A/N: Might be ooc (and rushed) because I don't know much about Castorice 😔🙏

The air was thick with the scent of earth and rain as you limped through the unfamiliar terrain. The once-pristine sky above was now marred with an unnatural storm, and though you had been in your car just moments ago, the world had swiftly fallen apart around you. Nikador's spear—had torn through the air, and the subsequent crash left you with cuts, bruises, and a heavy ache in your chest. You could feel the pull of your curse, the relentless, gnawing sensation that came with being cursed by Abundance—unable to die, but cursed with immortality’s burden.

Your body couldn’t die, but it could certainly be battered. You could feel the soreness settle deeper in your bones as you struggled to get back on your feet. There was no one around. No one to help you, no one to hear your calls. The sound of your footsteps was the only thing you could rely on, as you dragged yourself forward with one singular purpose: find the Trailblazer and Dan Heng. Make sure they were still alive.

But, as time passed and the landscape shifted, your weary legs grew heavy. You staggered, trying to focus, trying to hold onto the fragments of hope that hadn’t been crushed. When you spotted Okhema in the distance, you thought it was a miracle. You gathered your strength and pressed on, despite the exhaustion clawing at you.

When you finally reached the outskirts of Okhema, your vision blurred, and your consciousness wavered. You were so close. But the curse tugged at you again, and just before you could even process it, everything went black.

You woke with a soft, unfamiliar sensation beneath your head. The ground was cool and smelled faintly of lavender. As your eyes fluttered open, your vision cleared slowly, and you found yourself lying in the lap of a figure, her presence so serene that it almost felt dreamlike.

The first thing you noticed was her appearance. Her lavender hair, adorned with flowers, cascaded down around her face, framing her gentle, ethereal features. She wore a regal, yet mysterious, black crown, its sharp edges a stark contrast to the softness of her demeanor. Her eyes, a soft lavender hue, were watching you with a calm, almost melancholic gaze.

You blinked twice, your mind still foggy from the sudden and inexplicable change in surroundings. Then, as your consciousness fully returned, you let out a hoarse chuckle, trying to make sense of the situation.

"Since when has death looked so beautiful…?" you mumbled, your voice thick with confusion and exhaustion. You’d meant it as a joke, though it felt absurd. Here you were, in the lap of a woman who seemed like she belonged to another world, and the strange words just slipped out.

The woman’s eyes widened, and a soft blush colored her cheeks. She looked almost startled by your words, but there was something in her gaze that made you feel strangely safe. Before she could speak, however, a familiar voice broke the silence.

"Well, well, looks like they’re finally awake," the Trailblazer’s voice came from somewhere behind you, and you turned to see them and Dan Heng standing just a few paces away, watching the interaction with amused expressions.

“Don’t worry, they’re fine,” the Trailblazer added with a smirk. “Though, I figured you might be a bit more comfortable if you woke up like this.”

Dan Heng, looking slightly irritated by the situation, crossed his arms. “You do have a strange way of reassuring people, Trailblazer.”

The woman whose lap you rested on—Castorice, as you would come to learn—looked down at you in confusion, her gentle gaze still holding a hint of curiosity. "You... you’re alive?" Her voice was soft, like a whisper of wind, but there was an undercurrent of concern that laced each word.

You let out a small, sheepish laugh. “Well, I’m cursed, so... alive and well, or cursed and suffering. I’m not sure which is worse.”

Castorice's eyes softened with understanding, and she nodded slowly. “You must bear the curse of Abundance,” she murmured, almost as if speaking to herself. “It is... a heavy burden.”

"Yeah," you said with a tired sigh, trying to sit up but wincing as the pain from your crash reminded you of the ordeal you had just gone through. "But that’s not the worst of it. I was looking for you... or, rather, I was looking for answers." Your gaze shifted toward the Trailblazer and Dan Heng. "I’m trying to find out what happened to the two of you after you lost contact... I thought I’d lost you."

“Well,” the Trailblazer spoke up, “looks like you found us. And with a bit of help from Castorice here.”

Dan Heng gave you a look. “You’ve really managed to get yourself in a mess. But don’t worry, we’re safe now.”

Castorice shifted slightly, her hands brushing a strand of lavender hair from her face. Her gaze was still focused on you. “If you’re looking for a place of care, I may be able to help. I work as a mortician here in Okhema.”

You blinked, processing her words slowly. Mortician? Was that why she was so serene? The curse of Abundance made it difficult to relate to the living world, and yet here she was, calm and ethereal in a way that reminded you of the death you’d been running from. But you could sense her power. It was unlike anything you’d encountered before.

“You wouldn’t happen to know a place where someone like me could... lie low?” you asked, feeling the weight of your curse heavy in your chest.

Castorice nodded. “I do.”

Before you could say anything else, you suddenly felt it—the subtle shift in the air. There was something different, almost like a force had aligned itself with your very being. The curse inside you seemed to adjust, the magic that kept you from death acknowledging something. You hadn’t done it intentionally, but your body seemed to adapt. The next time you accidentally brushed too close to Castorice, there was no jolt of death.

It was subtle. But in that moment, you realized something.

You weren’t going to die around her.

It felt like a strange kind of relief, and though you didn’t fully understand it, the sense of connection lingered. Castorice turned to face you, her soft expression unreadable.

"Would you like to stay with me? I believe you’ll be safer here," she said, her voice carrying an unexpected warmth.

And with that, something shifted between the two of you—something as delicate and intricate as the butterfly patterns on her gloves. The beginning of a bond. A strange, beautiful one.

[thesharktanksdriver]

wahh congratulations!! i love Herta's animations, shes sooo prettyyy!! i wish i could pull for her but im saving for Tribbie and Castorice since i heard they were Quantum!! (im a quantum collector lol) did you enjoy the 3.0 story quest ? i loved it and im in looveee with Castorice😍😍😍 btw can i be the 🧃 anon for now if someone didn't claim it? i want to write non-anon but Tumblr wont let me use my alter acc where i reblog x reader stuff 😔

Thank you!! I absolutely love her design and sass lol. Her animations are so pretty and dazzling, I also needed an ice character so it’s a double win for me!

I love castorice’s design and I think tribbie looks adorable! I’m really looking forwards to mydei as well.

I haven’t yet started the 3.0 quest but I’m looking forward to it especially since it seems like we’re getting more backstory for March.

And sure thing you can be 🧃anon!

[heliosunny]

Your yandere crown prince phainon was soo GOOD, I fell in love with the way you write him omg?? I hope you will make a part 3 of it!!

At first I nv thought he'd received this much love haha. Here at my blog, you ask n you shall receive.

Yandere! Crown Prince Phainon x Reader - P3

Visit [Part 1]; [Part 2]

The king and queen had been patient at first.

But patience only lasted so long.

“You have been married for months, and yet there is no news” the queen sighed, gracefully sipping her tea as you sat with her in the royal gardens.

The king, seated beside her, nodded in agreement. “Phainon was our strongest. We expect great heirs from him, my dear.”

You nearly choked on your tea.

“Your Majesties-” you began, but the queen only gave you an amused glance.

“We do not mean to pressure you,” she said sweetly. “But we are looking forward to hearing good news soon.”

You offered a polite smile, trying not to let your exhaustion show. “Phainon and I have been quite busy with state affairs-”

“Yes, yes” the king waved a hand. “But surely you can....multitask.”

Your cheeks burned.

You knew Phainon adored his parents, but they were relentless.

Phainon, of course, had no problem with their expectations.

Every night, after a long day of handling state affairs, he would slip into your chamber and coddle himself against you, resting his head in your lap, holding you close, occasionally mumbling half-asleep words about keeping you in bed for an entire day.

“They are right, you know” he murmured one evening, nuzzling against your shoulder as you tried- and failed to finish your paperwork.

“Phainon...” you sighed, trying to push him off gently.

“We could stay in bed for days” he continued lazily. “Just you and me, no responsibilities”

“And an entire kingdom left to ruin?” you retorted, still writing.

He huffed against your skin. “The kingdom can wait. My wife cannot.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. “We will discuss this when we’re not drowning in work.”

“Hmm.” He didn’t sound convinced.

But he did, at least, let you finish.

A few days later, while you were buried in paperwork, Castorice arrived unexpectedly.

“Your Highness, I need your help.”

You looked up, surprised by her determined expression. “What is it?”

She took a deep breath. “I need… love advice.”

You blinked. Then, setting your papers aside, you gestured for her to sit. “Tell me everything.”

She hesitated for a moment before sighing. “There’s someone I like. But I don’t know how to approach them.”

“Do they know you well?”

“Somewhat” she muttered. “But they never seem to notice me that way.”

You smiled knowingly. “Then we’ll just have to see how they feel, won’t we?”

You and Castorice devised a simple plan: observe her love interest from afar and analyze their behavior.

Of course, this required leaving the palace, which meant sneaking out carefully.

And that meant Phainon didn’t know where you were. That was a problem.

Because when he realized you had left without informing him, his mind immediately jumped to one conclusion: She’s avoiding me.

Phainon, for all his strength and confidence, was utterly terrible at handling the idea that you might lose interest in him.

So when you returned that evening, completely unaware of his brooding thoughts, you found him sitting in your chamber, blue eyes unreadable as he watched you enter.

You paused, sensing something was off. “Phainon?”

“Did you have fun?” he asked smoothly.

You blinked. “What?”

“With Castorice” he continued, voice eerily calm. “You seemed quite… occupied.”

You sighed, setting down your cloak. “Phainon, if you’re upset, just say it.”

His jaw clenched slightly. “I am not upset.”

You arched a brow. “You are upset.”

He huffed, looking away.

“I merely find it interesting” he muttered, “that you had the time to wander the city for her but cannot spare a moment for us.”

Your eyes softened. You stepped closer, cupping his face gently. “Phainon. I am not avoiding you.”

His hands came up to hold your wrists, his grip firm. “Are you certain?”

“Absolutely” you murmured. “Castorice needed help. That’s all. And besides-” You smirked slightly. “Are you really jealous?”

His lips pressed into a thin line.

“I do not get jealous” he muttered.

You chuckled. “Oh? Then why are you sulking?”

There was only silence. Then, with a dramatic sigh, he pulled you into his lap, burying his face in your shoulder.

“I missed you” he admitted quietly.

“I missed you too.”

And just like that, his grip tightened, as if reminding himself that no matter the distractions, no matter the politics- You were still his.

“You must come, Your Highness” Castorice urged, a playful glint in her eyes. “It will be a lovely gathering- tea, gossip, and good company.”

You chuckled, setting aside your paperwork. “A gathering of noble ladies, you mean?”

“Exactly” she grinned. “You have been so busy. This is a chance to relax.”

You hesitated briefly, but then nodded. “Alright. Just for a while.”

Little did you know, not everyone at the tea party was pleased by your presence.

The moment you arrived at the elegant garden, a certain noblewoman- Lady Evelyne, greeted you with a forced smile.

“Your Highness” she said smoothly. “What an honor to have you here.”

You returned the courtesy, though something in her gaze felt off.

Throughout the afternoon, she and her followers exchanged glances, whispering behind their teacups. You could feel the weight of their envy, resentment hidden beneath polite words.

“The Crown Prince must adore you” one lady mused with a fake smile. “To choose you over so many other suitable ladies.”

You met her gaze steadily. “I would hope a marriage is based on more than just suitability.”

A few chuckled, but Evelyne’s eyes darkened.

And from that moment, you knew.

She was not simply envious. She was bitter.

As evening fell, you bid farewell to Castorice and the others, preparing to return to the palace. But Evelyne had plans.

She and her followers arranged for a carriage accident, one that would make it seem like a mere misfortune.

“She is just a noble by birth” Evelyne murmured to her accomplices. “Not a true royal. If something were to happen to her, perhaps the prince would realize his mistake.”

And so, as your carriage passed through a dimly lit path. The wheels snapped. The horses reared. The entire vehicle lurched before tumbling to the side.

Pain shot through your body as you hit the cold ground, disoriented. And before you could react, figures emerged from the darkness.

Back at the palace, Phainon’s brows furrowed as he stood at Castorice’s side.

“She has not returned from the party.” he said, voice low.

Castorice frowned. “Impossible, she left some time ago. She should already be back.”

Phainon’s expression darkened.

“Something is wrong.”

Without another word, he turned on his heel, issuing orders to his guards.

“Find her. Now.”

In his chest, beneath the calm fury, a sickening fear took root. If something had happened to you, there would be no mercy.

By the time Phainon arrived at the scene, the assailants had already moved in.

But they had not expected him.

A gloved hand shot forward, grabbing one attacker by the throat. A sickening crack echoed as the prince threw them aside with no hesitation.

The others barely had time to react before Phainon’s sword gleamed in the moonlight, swift, merciless.

Finally, he saw you. Bruised. Hurt.

A heartbeat later, he was at your side, gathering you into his arms.

“Who did this?” his voice was deathly quiet, his fingers tightening.

You exhaled shakily, leaning into his warmth. “It was…” You hesitated. “Lady Evelyne.”

Phainon stilled.

“I see...She thinks she can harm my wife and go unpunished?”

He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

“Rest, my love. I will handle this.”

Evelyne had expected repercussions.

But not this.

She knelt in the dimly lit chamber of the palace dungeons, wrists bound with thick iron cuffs, her face pale as she watched the crown prince enter.

Phainon did not speak at first. He merely stood there, tall, composed, eyes gleaming with something terrible. Then, in a voice so calm it sent shivers down her spine, he said, “You attempted to harm my wife.”

Evelyne swallowed hard. “Your Highness, I-”

“You dared to lay a hand on the Crown Princess,” he continued, voice unwavering. “and you thought you would live to boast about it?”

The sheer finality in his tone made her blood run cold. This was not a man who threatened. This was a man who delivered.

And so, Lady Evelyne and her conspirators were sentenced: Public disgrace. Wealth and titles stripped. Families exiled.

But for Evelyne herself? Phainon had far worse in mind.

When you found out, you insisted on seeing him.

Despite your injuries.

Despite your weakness.

You dragged yourself from bed, barely making it to the royal hall where he sat, issuing commands.

The moment Phainon saw you, his gaze hardened. “You should be resting” he said, immediately rising from his seat.

But you shook your head. “I came to ask for mercy.”

His eyes darkened.

“For her?”

You took a slow breath. “I want her to suffer, too. But this will not erase what happened. Let this be enough.”

For the first time in days, Phainon hesitated.

You were still weak. Still recovering. And yet, you had come all this way just to beg for someone who had nearly taken you from him. Phainon clenched his jaw, his fingers twitching in restraint.

“Fine.” But there was no relief in his voice. Only begrudging compliance. “But do not ask me for such mercy again.”

When Mydei and Anaxa heard what happened, they were quick to come to your side.

“We should have ensured your safety” Anaxa admitted, voice heavy with guilt. “It was reckless to let you return alone.”

Mydei nodded. “We won’t let this happen again.”

You offered them both a tired smile. “It was not your fault. But thank you.”

Still, you could tell that from this moment on, they would not let you be so vulnerable again. And neither would Phainon.

After that night, something changed in the palace.

The noblewomen who once whispered behind their fans now lowered their gazes in Phainon’s presence.

Servants spoke in hushed tones about what had happened to Evelyne.

The message was clear: No one was to touch the Crown Princess.

Not unless they wished to meet a merciless fate.

And so, you found yourself at the center of cautious admiration.

Not just as the prince’s beloved wife, but as the only one who could soften his wrath.

Days later, as you lay in your sickbed, Castorice arrived with an unfamiliar man at her side.

“Your Highness,” she said with a small smile. “I wanted to introduce someone.”

The man beside her bowed deeply. “It is an honor, Crown Princess.”

He was polite. Refined. And when he looked at Castorice, there was genuine admiration in his eyes.

You studied him for a moment, then gave Castorice the smallest nod of approval.

Her expression brightened.

“I knew you would understand!”

You chuckled softly. “Just… choose wisely.”

Because even now, you knew- Love was a dangerous thing.

That evening, Phainon returned from court matters only to find an unfamiliar man had been in your presence.

His expression immediately soured.

“Who was he?” he asked, tone clipped.

You sighed, already sensing where this was going. “Castorice’s love interest.”

Phainon was not convinced.

“And what was he doing in your chamber?”

You gave him a tired look. “Introducing himself. Nothing more.”

Still, he loomed over you, arms crossing. “I don’t like it.”

You couldn’t help but smile. “Are you jealous again?”

His blue eyes narrowed.

“You are my wife” he murmured, leaning in. “Why would I not be?”

You reached up, brushing a hand over his cheek. “Then stop sulking. Castorice is happy. That should be enough.”

He exhaled, leaning into your touch. “As long as he knows his place.”

You shook your head with a small laugh.

The palace had been peaceful for weeks. No new assassination attempts. No political rivalries stirring.

But peace never lasted long.

“Your Highness, urgent news from the eastern border.”

A messenger arrived at the court in haste, kneeling before Phainon as he presented a sealed letter.

Phainon broke the wax and scanned the contents, his expression shifting from intrigue to frustration to thinly veiled rage.

“The border defenses are failing” he said, voice calm but heavy with warning. “A foreign faction is exploiting the weakness left after the last war.”

You watched from your seat beside him, fingers tightening on the armrest.

“Do we know who leads them?” you asked.

The messenger hesitated.

“It is not just one faction, Your Highness. A coalition has formed mercenaries, rogue nobles, and…” He swallowed. “One of our own generals.”

The court stilled. A traitor.

Phainon’s grip on the letter crumpled the parchment.

“His name?”

“General Orpheus, Your Highness.”

The weight of betrayal settled over the room.

Orpheus was once a trusted military leader, one who fought beside Phainon in past campaigns. Now, he had turned against the crown.

Phainon’s jaw clenched.

“Then I will deal with him myself.”

Later that night, you found him in the war chambers, pouring over maps and battle reports, his eyes sharp with focus.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” you asked softly.

He didn’t look up. “I must.”

You stepped closer. “You just secured the kingdom. If you leave now, others will use this as an opportunity to create disorder in court.”

“If I don’t leave, the border will fall” he countered.

You knew he was right. But something about this war felt different.

“Let me go with you” you said.

His head snapped up. “No.”

“I can help-”

“No.”

His voice left no room for argument.

“You are still recovering. I will not risk your life again.”

You met his gaze defiantly. “And I will not sit idle while you fight alone.”

A dangerous silence stretched between you.

He exhaled slowly, reaching forward to cradle your face.

“I swore to protect you. And if I must cut down an entire army to ensure you remain safe, then I will.”

His forehead rested against yours, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Stay here, my love. Wait for me.”

You closed your eyes.

Because no matter how much you wanted to stand by his side, you knew he would never allow it.

Days passed.

The battle waged in the east.

And then—The betrayal struck.

Not from the battlefield, but within the palace itself. Late one evening, a servant rushed into your chambers, breathless.

“Your Highness! The council— they are trying to strip the prince of his authority!”

You froze. “What?”

“The royal ministers...Duke Varion, Marquis Sareth...they claim that Phainon’s campaign is reckless. That he seeks war only for his own ambition.”

Your blood turned cold.

The moment Phainon left the capital, these leeches had taken their chance to turn the court against him.

You rose swiftly, ignoring the lingering ache in your body.

“Summon the council immediately.”

If they thought you would be a weak regent in Phainon’s absence, you have to prove that they were wrong.

When you entered the council chamber, every noble eye turned to you. The ministers sat in their high-backed chairs, their expressions carefully neutral. But you saw it—the quiet defiance.

Duke Varion stood. “Your Highness, we mean no disrespect, but we must question whether it is wise to let the Crown Prince—”

“Enough.”

Your voice was not loud. But it carried authority.

Varion hesitated.

You stepped forward, eyes sharp.

“You claim my husband is reckless?”

“We claim he is endangering the kingdom-”

“He is defending it,” you cut in smoothly. “And yet, while he sheds blood for this land, you sit here—plotting how to weaken him.”

You let the moment of silence stretch, let the weight of your words settle.

Then, voice calm but unyielding, you said:

“If anyone wishes to challenge the Crown Prince’s rule, they may do so when he returns.

“And I promise” your gaze swept over them, cold and unrelenting“he will return.”

When Phainon finally rode back into the capital—victorious, bloodstained, and utterly unforgiving

He wasted no time in purging the court.

Duke Varion? Stripped of his lands.

Marquis Sareth? Exiled.

Any noble who had dared to question his authority? Crushed beneath the weight of his retribution.

When he finally reached you, his hardened expression softened. You were waiting at the palace gates, your heart pounding as he dismounted his warhorse.

Without hesitation, he strode toward you, ignoring the watching nobles, ignoring the blood still drying on his gloves, he pulled you into his arms.

“You protected my rule” he murmured into your hair.

“Of course,” you whispered. “Did you think I would let them take what is ours?”

His grip tightened.

“My love,” he whispered, voice raw, “how could I ever deserve you?”

You pulled back just enough to cup his face.

“You do.”

Without another word, he kissed you.

It had been another exhausting day. Meetings. Political disputes. The lingering tension from Phainon’s latest campaign.

But above all—

His parents.

“When will we expect an heir?” the Queen had asked over dinner, smiling ever so sweetly.

You nearly choked on your tea. Again.

The King only laughed. “We are not rushing, of course.”

But they were.

Their eyes gleamed with barely concealed excitement, expectant whenever they looked between you and Phainon.

The moment you left the dining hall, you sighed.

“They aren’t going to let this go.”

Beside you, Phainon smirked.

“They are not wrong to be impatient.”

You rolled your eyes. “Of course you would say that.”

But he only hummed, his eyes glinting with something wicked.

“Perhaps it is time we oblige them, my love.”

The moment you entered your chambers, Phainon wasted no time.

He cornered you before you could step away, his hands braced on either side of you, trapping you against the wall.

“Are you tired?” he murmured, his voice deep, velvety.

You swallowed.

“A little.”

His lips brushed your ear.

“I’ll be gentle, then.”

Heat curled low in your stomach.

“Phainon-”

His hand slid to your waist, his touch warm.

“Tell me,” he murmured, pressing a slow kiss against your pulse, “do you want this?”

You shivered beneath his touch.

“Yes.”

That was all he needed.

Between silken sheets and tangled limbs, Phainon worshipped you.

His kisses traced reverent paths down your skin, as if committing every inch of you to memory.

“You are mine” he whispered against your lips, eyes dark with desire. “And I will make sure the world knows it.”

You gasped as he moved against you, his warmth consuming you whole.

“You speak as if I am not already yours” you teased, breathless.

His grip tightened.

“I know you are” he murmured, “but I will make sure there is no doubt.”

A vow sealed beneath moonlight and quiet, desperate gasps. And as he finally held you close, the weight of his love sinking into your bones, you knew— This was more than just duty. More than just an heir.

When the morning light streamed through the curtains, you stirred, muscles pleasantly sore.

Phainon was already awake, lying beside you, his arm draped over your waist.

“Good morning, my love” he murmured, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

You sighed. “Morning.”

His hand traced idle patterns against your skin. “How are you feeling?”

You turned to him, arching a brow. “Why don't you guess?”

His smirk was unapologetic.

“I was thorough last night.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes.

“Do you think… it worked?”

A rare softness crossed his features.

“Perhaps.” You bit your lip, fingers brushing over his hand. “If it did… would you be happy?”

He cupped your cheek.

“You are all I have ever wanted.”

And for once, there was no war. No court schemes. No looming threats. Just you and him.