#mydeimos x y/n

[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)

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

Thinking about PHAINON’S cock being almost 7 inches, though its long enough for the head of his cock to reach your cervix. He definitely has the prettiest cock out of all of men. Its really pale and has a—lot of veins around it. Phainon is literally the best at fucking—you with his cock. His cock was just so pleasurable. A faint dusting of pale hair sits above the base of his cock, neatly trimmed and well-kept, adding to his effortless appeal. It's soft to the touch, smooth against your skin, just like everything about him—controlled, refined, and devastatingly perfect.

And then there's the way he fucks you. Not just with skill, but with purpose. Like he knows exactly how deep he needs to be, how slow or rough to take you apart. His cock stretches you in a way that borders on overwhelming, the thick veins pressing into your walls, the head of it brushing your cervix with every deliberate thrust. It's not just pleasure—it's possession, the way he claims every inch of you without a single word.

His breaths are heavy, low grunts escaping his lips when he feels you tighten around him. He watches you, eyes sharp, taking in the way you shudder, the way your body reacts to him alone. He knows no one else could fuck you like this, no one else could ruin you in a way that still feels so reverent. It's not just about taking—it's about making sure you know he's the only one who ever could.

Thinking about MYDEI’S cock It's the biggest one-thick, heavy, and a full nine inches of sheer, overwhelming size. There's nothing refined about it, nothing delicate. Just raw power, veined and flushed, built to stretch and ruin. His cock sits heavy between his legs, a perfect reflection of him—unapologetic, dominant, untamed. His pubic hair is just as unruly, untouched, dark curls framing his length. He doesn't shave, doesn't brush it down, because why would he? He's not the type to care about pretty appearances. He's the type to take, to claim, to make sure you remember exactly what it feels like to be fucked by him.

And when he's inside you gods, it's too much. The stretch is instant, a sharp, unbearable fullness that has you gasping before he even moves. He knows it, too. He watches the way your body struggles to take him, the way you twitch and tighten, barely able to handle his size. It's intoxicating to him, the way you clench around him like you were made for him, like no one else could ever compare.

His pace is merciless, rough and deep, slamming into you until all you can do is take it. Every thrust forces his cock against your cervix, dragging a mixture of pain and pleasure so intense it leaves you trembling. He doesn't stop-he never stops until you're shaking, until you're completely lost in him, until he's sure you'll never forget that he was here, that he's the only one who could ever fuck you like this. Because Mydei doesn't just want to pleasure you. He wants to own you.

Thinking about ANAXA’S cock It's not the biggest, not the thickest, but gods, does he know how to use it. Five inches of pure, aching need, pale and flushed at the tip, standing proudly against his smooth skin. There's no pubic hair—whether it's natural or something he takes care of, it's impossible to tell, but it only adds to the softness of him. He looks almost delicate like this, like something meant to be worshiped. But that's the trick, isn't it? Anaxa isn't just delicate. He's dangerous in the way he holds himself back, in the way his soft-spoken nature masks something deeper, something utterly consuming.

Because when he's inside you, it doesn't matter that he's not the biggest. He makes it feel like he is. He fucks like he has something to prove-slow at first, teasing, watching your every reaction like he's memorizing the way you fall apart for him. Then he picks up, hips snapping forward, angling himself just right so every thrust hits exactly where you need it. He's precise, controlled, relentless in his focus on your pleasure.

His breath hitches when he feels you clench around him, his hands tightening on your hips, keeping you in place. There's something desperate in the way he moves, like he needs you to understand that size never mattered-only this, only him, only the way he can make you shake with nothing but his cock and the sheer intensity of his devotion. Because Anaxa doesn't fuck to claim. He fucks to worship.

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

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

Mydei x (Fem)reader

Okay, hear me out, I saw a tiktok, the Chrysos heirs being trapped or whatever and mydei mentioning he calls his friend for help, and the other are like "Eh, we're all here" and mydei revealing he has other friends, and their all shocked YK....

So that was my inspiration for this. Have fun:)

_______________________________________

The ruins stretched before them like the bones of an ancient beast, swallowed by time. Dust choked the air, disturbed only by their movements, and the dim torchlight cast long shadows on the cracked stone walls. Mydei and his fellow Chrysos heirs stood before the massive stone door that had slammed shut behind them, sealing them in with an ominous finality.

Aglaea, her golden-blonde hair untouched by the dust clinging to the air, ran her fingers over the intricate carvings on the door. Her golden eyes remained calm, assessing, as if she had already considered every possibility. “We’re trapped.”

“No kidding,” Tribbie muttered, her small frame shifting as she crossed her arms. The red-haired girl, wings twitching slightly behind her, kicked a loose rock, the sound echoing in the chamber.

Phainon, a tall, white-haired man with striking blue eyes, leaned casually against a pillar, grinning. “Oh, come on, where’s your sense of adventure? We’ve been through worse.” His voice was light, but there was an eager spark in his eyes—the kind that always showed up when a challenge was thrown their way.

Castorice, standing a few steps away, remained quiet. Her long purple hair cascaded down her back, and her deep violet eyes studied the stonework with calm precision. No one dared to stand too close to her, not unless they had a death wish.

“There has to be another exit,” she finally said, running a gloved hand along the edges of the door. “It wouldn’t make sense for a place like this to have only one entrance.”

“Well, until we find it, we’re stuck,” Aglaea stated smoothly, her voice unshaken.

Phainon sighed dramatically, stretching his arms behind his head. “So? We look around, we solve the puzzle, we get out. Same as always.”

Mydei, who had been standing off to the side, arms crossed over his tattooed chest, let out a heavy sigh. “Or I could just call someone to get us out of here.”

Silence.

Four pairs of eyes turned to him.

Phainon blinked. “Eh? Mydei, we’re all here.”

Mydei gave him a flat look. “Not you. Someone else.”

The silence deepened. Aglaea remained composed, merely tilting her head in mild curiosity.

“You have… other friends?”

Tribbie tilted her head, eyes wide. “Since when?”

Castorice, ever composed, showed only the barest hint of interest. “You never mentioned anyone else.”

Phainon, naturally, was the most dramatic. He straightened up, looking at Mydei as if he had just announced he was secretly a poet. “Wait, wait, wait. This is insane! You—of all people—made a friend? Since when do you even talk to people outside of us?”

Mydei rubbed his temple, his patience wearing thin. “Does it matter? They can help.”

Tribbie grinned, wings fluttering. “Ooooh, is it a secret? Are they your lover, Mydei?”

Mydei’s eye twitched. “What? No.”

Phainon smirked, nudging his shoulder. “You sure? I mean, you are being suspiciously vague.”

Tribbie gasped dramatically. “Oh no. What if they’re imaginary? Mydei, do you need help?”

Mydei huffed, crossing his arms. “You’re all idiots.”

Phainon draped an arm around his shoulder, grinning. “You wound me, Mydei! But for real, though—who is this person? I need to know. It’s actually hurting me not to know.” His blue eyes were practically pleading.

Castorice tilted her head slightly. “Are they… like us?”

Mydei exhaled sharply. “They’re not an Chrysos heir, if that’s what you mean.”

That made them pause.

Aglaea's expression remained unreadable,

Tribbie gasped again, dramatically clutching Phainon’s sleeve. “Snowy, what if they’re evil? What if they tricked him?”

Phainon patted her head. “If they did, that means we get to mess with Mydei about it forever.”

Mydei glared. “You do that already.”

“True,” Phainon admitted with a grin.

Castorice finally spoke, her voice steady. “If they’re not an Chrysos heir, then how do you know they’ll even be able to help us?”

Mydei simply pulled out his communicator. “You’ll see soon enough.”

The others exchanged glances—some amused, some skeptical, but all undeniably intrigued.

Aglaea’s voice was the last to break the silence, smooth and certain. “Then we shall see.”

Mydei had a friend.

And they had no idea who they were.

Time passed slowly in the dimly lit ruins. The Chrysos heirs had explored every possible crack and corner of the chamber, yet the heavy stone door remained firmly shut. Mydei leaned against the wall, arms crossed, waiting in silence.

Tribbie, however, had other ideas. She fluttered her wings slightly, glancing between Mydei and Phainon with a mischievous glint in her blue eyes. “Sooo…” she began, tilting her head, “when’s this friend of yours gonna show up, Mydei? Should we be worried?”

Phainon snickered, leaning casually against a broken column. “Yeah, I mean, considering none of us have ever seen them, I’m starting to think this ‘friend’ might just be one of Mydei’s delusions.” He grinned. “Maybe it’s a rock. Or better yet—an imaginary friend.”

Tribbie gasped dramatically, putting her hands on her cheeks. “Oh no! What if Mydei’s been alone for so long he just made them up?” She turned to Aglaea. “Agi, do you think we should be concerned?”

Aglaea, ever composed, merely cast Mydei a calm glance before replying, “I think we should wait before making assumptions.”

Mydei’s eye twitched. “I swear to the Aeons—”

Phainon cut him off with a laugh, nudging his arm. “Come on, just admit it! You’re stalling because your ‘friend’ doesn’t actually exist.”

Tribbie giggled. “It’s okay, Mydei! We’ll pretend to see them for you.”

Mydei clenched his fists. “Would you two just—”

Rumble.

The heavy stone doors groaned as they slowly began to slide open. The grinding of stone against stone echoed through the chamber, dust swirling into the air as light from the outside spilled into the ruins. The group turned, eyes widening in surprise.

And then, standing on the other side, was a woman.

She was beautiful, her presence effortless yet striking. With a confident smile, she stepped forward, her gaze locking onto Mydei immediately.

“There you are,” she said warmly. “Are you alright?”

Phainon literally gawked. His mouth hung open, frozen mid-reaction.

Tribbie, who had just been teasing Mydei moments ago, now stood stiff, eyes darting between the woman and Mydei in shock.

Mydei, meanwhile, remained unimpressed. He straightened up, folding his arms. “Took you long enough.”

The woman sighed, shaking her head with an amused smile. “Well, excuse me for taking my time.” She glanced around at the ruins before gesturing behind her. “This place wasn’t exactly easy to find, you know.”

A silence hung between them.

Then—

“WHAT?!” Phainon finally exploded, pointing at Mydei with wide eyes. “SHE’S REAL?!”

Tribbie’s wings flared slightly as she rapidly blinked. “Wha—But—She’s—”

Castorice, though silent, looked mildly intrigued, her violet eyes scanning the woman as if reevaluating everything she thought she knew about Mydei.

Aglaea, calm as ever, studied the newcomer with quiet curiosity before looking at Mydei. “So, this is the one?”

Mydei huffed, rubbing his temple. “Yes. This is my friend.”

Phainon slowly turned to him, still in shock. “No. No, no, no. I refuse. I refuse to believe this! There’s no way someone like her is actually friends with you!”

Tribbie nodded rapidly. “Yeah! I thought for sure you were making it up!”

The woman laughed softly. “Oh? So he doesn’t talk about me?” She turned back to Mydei with a smirk. “That’s kind of rude.”

Mydei shot a glare at his so-called teammates before exhaling. “You see what I have to deal with?”

She grinned. “Unfortunately, yes.”

Phainon still looked as though he’d been struck by lightning. “I just—I need a moment.” He placed a hand on his chest, dramatically staggering back. “This changes everything.”

Tribbie grabbed his sleeve. “Snowy, I think we’ve been lied to.”

Aglaea hummed. “Or simply left uninformed.”

Castorice said nothing, but a small smirk played at the edge of her lips.

Mydei groaned. “I hate all of you.”

But his ‘friend’ only smiled. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.”

The group stepped out of the ruins, the crisp air a welcome contrast to the stale, dust-choked chamber they had been trapped in. Sunlight filtered through the clouds, casting a golden glow over the cracked stone and wild vegetation reclaiming the ancient site.

But Mydei wasn’t given a moment of peace.

“Okay, who are you?” Phainon demanded, spinning around to face the woman. His blue eyes were practically burning with curiosity. “And how did you end up being friends with him?”

Before she could answer, Tribbie fluttered beside her, eyes wide with excitement. “Yeah, yeah! Tell us everything! Did you save his life? Did he save yours? Or—ooh!—was it some kind of dramatic rivalry that turned into friendship?”

Mydei exhaled sharply. “I swear to the Aeons, if you two don’t—”

Y/N laughed, raising a hand in a gesture of ease. “It’s alright,” she said before turning to Phainon and Tribbie with a playful glint in her eyes. “I suppose introductions are in order, then.” She smiled. “My name is Y/N.”

Phainon and Tribbie exchanged glances.

“So you do have a name,” Phainon muttered. “I was starting to think Mydei just called you ‘friend’ like some cryptic loner.”

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Tribbie added with a mischievous grin.

Mydei pinched the bridge of his nose. “I regret calling you people my allies.”

Y/N chuckled. “As for how we met…” She placed a hand on her hip, glancing at Mydei. “I was exploring the Strife Ruins of Kremnos.”

That caught Aglaea’s attention. The golden-haired woman tilted her head slightly, her expression unreadable but curious. “A dangerous place to wander.”

Castorice, who had been silent until now, finally spoke, her voice smooth and measured. “Those ruins are cursed ground. Few who enter leave unscathed.”

Y/N nodded. “I had heard the rumors, but that only made me more curious.” She glanced back at Mydei. “That’s when I met him.”

Phainon’s brows shot up. “Wait, wait—you met him in the middle of those ruins?”

Tribbie gasped dramatically. “Did he scare you? No—wait! Was he just standing there looking all broody and mysterious?” She put her hands on her cheeks. “Did you think he was a ghost?”

Mydei groaned. “Why would she think that?”

Y/N smiled teasingly. “Well… you were standing there like a ghost haunting the place.”

Phainon howled with laughter. “I KNEW IT!”

Tribbie doubled over, giggling. “Oh, that’s so Mydei.”

Mydei glared at Y/N, who only shrugged innocently.

Aglaea, ever composed, observed their interaction with quiet amusement. “And after that?”

Y/N’s gaze softened slightly. “We ended up working together. There was something in those ruins—something neither of us could handle alone. We helped each other.”

Tribbie’s wings fluttered. “Wait… so Mydei actually worked with someone?” She turned to Phainon. “Are we in an alternate timeline?”

Phainon rubbed his chin in mock seriousness. “Possibly. Either that, or Mydei’s been replaced by an imposter.”

“I hate both of you,” Mydei muttered.

Y/N grinned. “Well, like it or not, we got through it together. And afterward… I suppose we just kept crossing paths.”

Phainon crossed his arms, still in disbelief. “So let me get this straight. You met him in cursed ruins, thought he was some ghostly warrior, teamed up, survived, and then just… decided to be friends?”

Y/N chuckled. “More or less.”

Phainon shook his head. “I don’t know whether to be impressed or concerned.”

Tribbie giggled. “I like her.”

Aglaea nodded, a faint smile on her lips. “A rare occurrence indeed.”

Castorice simply watched, her violet eyes thoughtful.

Mydei sighed heavily. “Are we done interrogating her?”

Phainon smirked. “Oh, not even close.”

As they continued walking, the questions only got worse.

And Mydei, for the first time in a long time, truly wondered if he should’ve just stayed in the ruins.

The interrogation showed no signs of stopping.

Phainon and Tribbie were relentless, firing off question after question like they were uncovering the greatest mystery of their lives.

“So what’s he like when you two are alone? Still all grumpy, or does he secretly have a soft side?” Phainon wiggled his eyebrows.

“Does he have pet names for you?” Tribbie gasped. “Does he have a pet name? Can I call him one?”

“No, you cannot,” Mydei snapped.

Y/N just laughed, amused by their energy. “You two are really curious, huh?”

Phainon threw his hands up. “Of course we are! This is life-changing information! Mydei, our Mydei, has a friend! A real one! It’s unheard of!”

Tribbie fluttered up beside Mydei, nudging him. “You sure she’s not your secret lover?”

Something in Mydei snapped.

“I am done with this,” he growled before grabbing Y/N by the wrist and dragging her away.

Y/N barely had time to react before she found herself being pulled along. She turned her head and waved at the group, still smiling. “Nice meeting you all!”

Phainon and Tribbie were left gaping as Mydei stormed off with her.

Aglaea remained as composed as ever, watching the scene unfold with quiet amusement. “It seems he’s reached his limit.”

Phainon blinked a few times, still processing. “Did he… did he just run away?”

Tribbie gasped. “With a girl?!”

Castorice smirked faintly. “Interesting.”

Phainon groaned, running a hand through his white hair. “This is too much. I need to sit down. Mydei has a friend and he just left us for her. I don’t know how to feel about this.”

Tribbie landed beside him, pouting. “I wanted to hear more.”

Aglaea chuckled softly. “Perhaps another time.”

Meanwhile, as Mydei and Y/N walked further from the group, she glanced up at him, her smile still present. “You didn’t have to drag me away, you know.”

Mydei huffed. “Yes, I did.”

She laughed. “They’re not that bad.”

“They’re insufferable.”

Y/N only smiled. “I think they care about you.”

Mydei scoffed but said nothing.

The teasing would be endless. He knew it.

But at least, for now, he had a moment of peace.

…Hopefully.

[miyaz6ki]

"do you want me to call your mother/father?!" he jokes yet the children replied in different hues of scared. "no!" every single one you could see had mixed variant, different version of mixtures of genes. from who? well.. you and mydei obviously.

"hah.. works everytime to get them—AAA!!" the blonde suddenly turns to phainon, only to find his partner, crossed arms and glaring at him. "call me for what?"

"oh.. (name), my love... haha.. you're home early." he awkwardly chuckles and gives a glare to phainon who walks away with a cheeky smile on his face. "are you scaring the kids again?" "you see.." "mydei!"

by the time you cater back to all three of the cuties, from afar you could spot the red spot on his face later, and it wasn't from blushing.. (spoiler alert, it's because you scolded him for scaring your kids)

"why does papa have a booboo?" one of the three children asked, as you replied with a smile. "oh! you know how papa is, he's a fighter, so he'll end up with a bruise or two." you lift the small baby girl up onto your lap as you hug her close. two of your other kids finding their spots to sit beside you as well. "against my will.." "did I hear something mydeimos?!" "no sir/ma'am!"

inspired by that tt audio of Rio 2 :)

[mydeicakie]

𓍯𓂃. 𝓛𝓘𝓣𝓣𝓛𝓔 𝓓𝓞𝓛𝓛 — riding Mydei’s abs (mdni)

Your hands pressed against Mydei's stomach, fingers twitching as you steadied yourself atop the hard ridges of his abs. He leaned back on his elbows, watching you with that lazy, knowing smirk, golden eyes gleaming in the dim light.

“Look at you,” he murmured, voice thick with amusement. “So eager, my little doll. Are you sure you can handle this?” His fingers traced slow, teasing circles along your thighs, his touch deliberate-testing, waiting. You swallowed hard, heat pooling in your chest as his smirk widened. “Go on, then,” he purred. “Show me how much you want it.”

You gripped his shoulders, the muscles beneath your fingers taut as you steadied yourself, each movement making your breath catch. Mydei's smirk deepened, and his eyes locked onto yours, filled with a quiet, predatory amusement.

“You're so cute when you try to play tough,” he murmured, voice low and dripping with affection and teasing.

His hand slid down your side, fingers brushing the edge of your waist before he gave a light, possessive squeeze. “But you don't have to pretend. I know what you want, little doll.”

Your pulse raced, the heat between you growing. You couldn't find the words to answer, your chest rising and falling with each shaky breath.

Mydei's gaze softened, just a fraction, before he leaned forward slightly, his lips brushing your ear. “C'mon, baby,” he cooed, his voice a blend of sweetness and something darker, almost dangerous. “I won't bite. Unless you beg me to.”

You felt the heat spread across your face, a soft shiver running through you as his hands moved with deliberate slowness, taking their time. He seemed to savor the way your body reacted to his every touch, his every word.

“Show me, sweetheart,” he said, his tone almost too gentle as his fingers traced lazy patterns along your hips. "How much you want it..how much you want me.”

You were trembling, your body restless as you moved, your hands braced against Mydei's sculpted chest, feeling the heat radiating off of him. Every shift of your hips, every subtle motion, only made the ache between your legs grow. Your breaths came out in uneven gasps, the pressure building with each passing second.

Mydei's golden eyes never left you, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips as he watched you, enjoying the way your body betrayed you. His fingers lightly grazed your skin, moving in slow, teasing circles around your thighs, and you couldn't suppress the quiet whimper that escaped your throat.

“Can't hide it, can you?” he murmured, his voice low and filled with that teasing arrogance you were both drawn to and frustrated by. He knew exactly how much you wanted this, how much you needed him, and the knowledge made your skin burn.

You squirmed on top of him, unable to stay still any longer, desperate for some release, but every time you moved, it only made the tension in your body rise higher. The sound of your uneven breathing filled the room as you leaned forward, pressing your forehead to his, feeling the hardness of his abs beneath you.

He let out a low chuckle. “You're so cute when you try to hold it together. Just let go, little doll. You know I've got you.”

© mydeicakie 2025⌇do not copy, modify, reupload, or translate my works on any other platforms thank you!

[brynn-lear]

"You look like a frozen fawn, vampire hunter. Your silence is stifling."

Yandere Vampire!Mydei/Vampire Hunter!Reader living in my head rent free rn instead of finishing that feral phainon fic in my drafts lmao, can you tell?-

kofi/tips and asks are always appreciated!

[starrygazers]

in my streamer era?!

aka: modern au streamer characters and their life with you.

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ felt like writing smth more lighthearted (once again procrastinating on my homework)

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ tags : modern au, fluff, crack

˖ ࣪⭑ ⸱ featuring : Mydei, Phainon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Phainon ➤ vlogs, irl streams

Phainon loves traveling and talking to people, which makes him the perfect irl streamer. he has a large following due to the fact that he's so polite and friendly to everyone, but somehow his streams always go wrong in the funniest, murphy's-law-esque way

he's streaming in a restaurant and reviewing the food and the next moment a waiter trips and spills a water jug right to his camera and lowers the video quality for the rest of the stream

or he'd be doing a grocery run and the things that he wants are all gone, and he has to ride the bus to the grocery store that's further away, and the bus would blow a tire in the middle of the highway so now he's hungry and stranded with no groceries

these somewhat harmless, silly and unexpected situation keeps his viewers entertained, and the fact that he's always so optimistic about it has viewers donating to his streams to cheer him up whenever something goes wrong

his mods are so protective of him that if anyone starts trolling they'd be banned in an instant

when he first met you, it was by chance, and you don't recognize him (he's a niche even on streaming sites; his fans gatekeep him because they don't want people trolling this nice boy)

he falls in love with you immediately, and it's so obvious by the way he talks about you on stream.

"chat, there's this person," he lays the camera down on the counter and starts unloading his groceries. "and they're so... like... I don't know how to say it. they're so pretty, but also so scary to talk to, but it's not because they're mean or anything, I think it's a me problem. do you guys ever feel like that about someone?"

of course, his chat teases him relentlessly about his newfound crush

once he finally has the guts to ask you out (someone sent him a super donation telling him to, and he feels bad not doing it), you say yes, and he's over the moon.

he introduces you to his chat, and even though you're a bit confused and new to all of this, your personality balances out with Phainon's so well that his community can't help but love you

he doesn't film all your dates; in fact, he rarely ever does. whenever you're on stream, it's because you're both spending time chilling or cooking or doing grocery runs together. he likes to keep a small portion of his life private, and he doesn't want you to feel like you're a tool for his moneymaking scheme.

overall, he's such a nice understanding boyfriend, and if having a camera around you is too much then he'll respect your space and schedule his streams around days that he'll spend alone so he can have you all to himself without any distractions.

Mydei ➤ fighting games, tourneys

you can't convince me this man isn't some sort of fighting game god, particularly tekken, mortal kombat, smash, or something in the likes

he'll spend hours just 1v1-ing randoms on the internet, and he's got his friend code public for anyone who wants to try to challenge him.

this obviously brings a lot of traction because there are a lot of tryhards who want to test if Mydei's the real deal (he is, and he does so while talking shit and not breaking a sweat)

fans enjoy his straightforward, no-bullshit commentary (roasts) while he destroys players with a straight face. it's almost comedic how such a stoic man could have such a petty personality, and chat always teases him for it, but he could not care less (whatever brings in the bag)

"Get out of here if you can't even jablock, man. All that big talk for you to not even take a stock from me is just embarrassing," he spits out. "You're so mean, he's trying his best, yeah, sure, chat. He should try his best recovering from the sauce I'm about to do to him."

he'll sometimes do irl streams when he's in tournaments. he'll do a hotel tour (begrudgingly, because he keeps getting donations forcing him to do it)

he's by no means funny because he tries to be. people just find his mean commentary and resting bitch face amusing, and he's also good looking, so he has a lot of fangirls

he's been in a relationship with you since before he started streaming. matter of fact, you were the one who suggested streaming (because if he's going to spend that many hours on something might as well try to make money from it)

you often walk in on him while he's in his man cave, and you'll stay a bit to chat with him or interact with the chat

if his fangirls are mean to you, they get banned immediately ("MODS!!!! GET THEM THE FUCK OUT OF HERE!!!")

he's very proud to call himself your boyfriend. Whenever someone tries to flirt with you in chat, he'll have a quip comeback of some sort about how they can try but you're in a very healthy, very secure relationship

he is unfortunately the type of streamer to have lots of tiktok edits to chase atlantic songs (iykyk)

but he'll only repost his fan edits shipping him and you <3

definitely the type of guy to wear an ugly "I LOVE MY GIRLFRIEND" t-shirt out in public, he's just a nerd like that.

─── ･ ｡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

[livelaughlovesubs]

Minor spoiler warning for Mydei

Imagine the proud and cocky crown prince mydeimos sitting on his throne, the once fierce eyes glassy as he gives you such an adorable look. Gazing up at you with a slightly surprised and confused expression, mouth agape as he tried to understand this strange situation.

You, looming over him with the golden cup he always used in your hand, slowly pouring the pink-ish drink over his chest. Watching intensely as the pomegranate mix flowed down his full pecs to his defined abs, then his abdomen and lastly to his crotch. Now there was a wet spot between his legs, and most of the drink stayed scattered across his torso.

“My apologies, prince, I’ll take responsibility.” Without saying another word, just leaning down and start licking the remains away. Hot tongue moving across his skin, occasionally switching to sucking just to mess with him. The way he flinched and shuddered whenever you rolled over a particularly sensitive spot was so delicious, you really wanted to eat him up. He hid his flushed face with the back of his palm, the other hand gripping your shoulder as he whispered, “…you are so bold.”

This, until you reached his pelvis, finally looking up to admire his disheveled state. Red-faced and sweating, eyes half-lidded while he bit his bottom lip, seemingly in anticipation of what you’ll do next. Did you perhaps want to… do the same… to that place too…?

[heliosunny]

what abt yan!mydei with a reader as his wife who’s trying to escape?

Yandere!Mydei x Wife!Reader

The grand hall is alive with the clash of steel, the roar of the crowd, and the shimmer of golden candlelight against polished marble. The gala is meant to be a celebration, an exhibition of strength and diplomacy, but to you, it is an opportunity.

Your husband, Mydei, stands in the center of the dueling arena, his blade locking against an opponent’s in a brutal clash. He fights like a beast, relentless, overwhelming, every strike carrying the weight of a warrior who has never known defeat. His hair, damp with sweat, clings to his face as his opponent stumbles back. The audience erupts in cheers.

And that’s when you run.

You don’t waste a second. While the nobles are entranced by the fight, you slip past the velvet-draped tables, past the gilded statues, and through the towering double doors. Your heart pounds as you dart down the corridors, breath quick, hands trembling.

Freedom is so close.

The outer gates are unguarded, everyone is inside, watching Mydei. The stars are vast above you as you sprint into the streets of the city, the sound of your silk-clad footsteps lost in the night. The further you go, the deeper the weight in your chest lightens.

You made it.

Days pass. You keep moving, changing your clothes, stealing scraps of food where you can. Your once-ornate garments have been traded for rough-spun fabric, your fingers stained with dirt from the road. The city gives way to forests, then rivers, then distant villages where Mydei’s name is still whispered in reverence and fear.

But something is wrong.

It starts as a dull ache in your limbs, a fatigue you dismiss as exhaustion from travel. But then your steps become sluggish, your breathing more labored. Food tastes bitter. Your fingers tremble when you lift them. The further you get from Mydei, the worse it becomes, until realization strikes like a dagger to the gut.

You’re not just sick. You’ve been poisoned.

Memories resurface, Mydei’s hands lingering on your wrist days before the gala, his lips brushing your throat as he murmured, “If you run, I’ll chase you. But do you know what happens when a bird flies too far from its nest?”

The poison was never meant to kill. It was meant to make sure you’d never outrun him. The moment you collapse, he finds you.

A pair of iron-strong arms catch you before you hit the cold dirt. Even through the haze, you recognize the scent of steel, sweat, and something faintly sweet, Mydei’s scent. A choked sound leaves your lips, something between a sob and a curse, as you weakly try to shove him away.

He doesn’t let you go.

“Shh, easy now” he murmurs, his voice deep, softer than it has any right to be. His arms tighten around you, lifting you against his chest with infuriating ease. “You should’ve known this would happen, my love. You can’t survive without me.”

Your fingers claw at his shoulder, your body shaking as you try to fight, try to resist. But it’s useless. You feel like a ragdoll in his grasp, your strength sapped by the poison, your vision spinning.

“Bastard—” you whisper, teeth bared.

His chuckle is low, dangerous.

“Still so fierce, even like this. That’s why I love you, you know?”

His fingers stroke your cheek, his touch burning against your too-cold skin. He looks down at you.

“Did you really think I wouldn’t come for you?” he asks, tilting his head. “That I wouldn’t tear the entire kingdom apart to find you?”

You open your mouth, but no words come. Your breath is shallow, your body trembling violently against him.

Mydei sighs, shifting his grip to hold you more securely. He presses a lingering kiss to your temple before whispering, “It doesn’t matter. You’re coming home.”

You jolt upright—only for an unbearable wave of nausea to crash over you. Your body, still weak from the poison, refuses to obey. Before you can collapse, strong hands catch you, pulling you back against something solid and unyielding.

“Careful.”

His voice is too close.

You shove at him, weakly, but Mydei doesn’t budge. He holds you with effortless strength, keeping you caged against his chest.

“Easy, my love,” he murmurs, his lips brushing your temple as he speaks. “You’re still recovering.”

Your breath shudders out of you as you force your eyes open. The room is dim, flickering candlelight casting long shadows against dark stone walls. Not your chambers. Not the palace. Somewhere more secluded, somewhere only he knows.

You stiffen. “Where—”

“A safe place” Mydei cuts in, as if that explains anything.

His grip loosens slightly, but he doesn’t let you go. His fingers skim over your wrist, pressing gently, checking your pulse. His golden eyes narrow slightly before he exhales, satisfied.

“You’re getting better” he muses, his voice dipping into something dangerously soft. His thumb traces over your skin, slow, methodical. “But you lost too much strength. Do you feel it? How your body falters without me?”

Rage coils in your chest. You wrench your arm away, only to hiss as the movement sends a sharp ache through your limbs.

Mydei tuts, shaking his head. “Stubborn little thing. Even now, when you’re barely able to sit up.”

“You poisoned me.”

“I saved you.”

He says it so easily. So utterly convinced that he’s right.

“You tried to run” Mydei continues, as if he’s explaining something simple. “You would’ve died out there, weak as you were. I told you—” His fingers grasp your chin, tilting your face toward his. His eyes gleam, golden and unyielding. “You can’t survive without me.”

You glare at him, but your body betrays you. The fever still lingers, your skin burning beneath his touch. You hate how steady his hands are, how easily he holds you in place.

“I will never belong to you” you snarl, voice hoarse.

For a moment, Mydei is silent.

Then, he laughs.

Low, deep, almost cruel.

“Belong to me?” he repeats, tilting his head. “Oh, my love. You already do.”

The bed shifts as he moves, pressing closer, his warmth suffocating. His lips brush against your forehead, your cheek—soft, adoring, unshakable. His arms tighten around you, immovable.

“And I will never let you go.”

“You can fight me, if you want. I like it when you do” Mydei murmurs against your skin, his lips ghosting over your cheek—a mockery of affection.

You wrench away from his touch, but your body is still weak, trembling from exhaustion. Mydei lets you move, only to seize your wrist the moment you try to push him away. His grip is unyielding, but not painful.

“You truly hate me that much?” His golden eyes glint in the dim candlelight, searching yours. There’s something unreadable in his gaze—something deeper than rage, something darker than mere obsession.

You take a shuddering breath, forcing steel into your voice. “More than anything.”

A pause. Then—he smiles.

“Then perhaps” he muses, almost idly, “I should give you something to love more than you hate me.”

Your blood runs cold. “What?”

He watches your reaction closely, golden eyes drinking in every flicker of emotion across your face.

“You won’t always feel this way, my love. One day, you’ll understand. And if not…” His free hand trails down, brushing over your stomach.

“Then I’ll just have to give you a reason to stay.”

A new kind of fear coils in your chest, sharper than anything you’ve felt before. You know Mydei. You know his conviction, his unshakable will.

If he decides something, he will make it reality.

“You wouldn’t—”

“Wouldn’t I?” His fingers press slightly, claiming. “You are my wife. It’s only natural. And once you carry my child… you will never leave me again.”

Your vision spins. Not just from the fever, not just from exhaustion, but from the realization that he means every word.

Mydei tilts your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. His expression is softer now, almost gentle, but that only makes his next words more terrifying.

“If you won’t stay for me, you’ll stay for them. And by then, my love—” His lips brush against your forehead, his voice a hushed, dangerous promise. “—you won’t even want to run anymore.”

[jd-loves-fiction]

Hi, is it possible to make a request with Mydei and (fem) Reader, who is from Astral Express, but her fighting style is related to pistols (for example, look at Carlotta's gameplay from Wuthering Wave's). Reader manages to be elegant in battle, which slightly irritates Mydei, so he makes fun of her, but she does not lag behind and responds in kind. Thanks in advance ❤️

🌑ooh Carlotta's fighting style is everything and very kookoo about Mydei PERFECT!! :D (very short :()

Damned outworlders and their machinery. Loud and attention grabbing, forcing Mydei to look away from the opponent in front of him and in your direction just in time to see you gracefully avoid getting your head chopped off before shooting the perpetrator in the face.

Definitely not because he himself cannot help but glance your way be it in battle or out of it. Though the moment he’s caught staring he’s quick to give some lazy excuse about how you’re too showy or something of that kind – says the half naked man.

“53!” Mydei exclaims triumphantly, “How about you?” he shouts just as you swiftly take down another enemy.

“57 and are we really still doing this? You’ll only get your ego bruised when you inevitably lose to me, like I warned you.” You reply smugly, but you can't deny your excitement at the stiff competition – though the words would never leave your lips.

“I wasn't aware you possessed the power of clairvoyance. Though if you do, I suspect it’s a faulty imitation of the real thing – for I will be the obvious victor.” He states proudly, slashing down every enemy that comes too close.

“Don't your shoulders hurt from carrying your huge ego around?”

Mydei’s eyes narrow deviously, turning in your direction with a wide smirk split across his face – nothing good on his mind, to be sure, “They do, now that you mention it. Want to give me a hand?”

His lion’s eyes zero in on you, razor focused, waiting to see your amusing reaction to his usual teasing.

A bullet whizzes just past his ear, grazing his blond locks, following the sound of a gunshot, barrel pointed in his direction, “There's your helping hand.”

Mydei scowls in response, thanking every god he knows that you're alone or else he'd never hear the end of it. Though he's sure Phainon will hear of it soon enough.Damned outworlders and their machinery and their sharp tongues and graceful movements… damn them for sending his heart aflutter so easily.

[jebunkle]

goodnight, I love you

sadness for valentines day bc why not :p angst, no comfort, reader's death, use of y/n, gn!reader, smitten mydei, reader is implied to be a chrysos heir

in short;; the saying that kremnoans don't do romance is proven true after mydei failed to be there for his lover. — 1.1k wc

blond light filtered in through the translucent curtains that hung over your windows, providing a comfortable light to awaken in. when mydei opened his eyes, the first thing they landed on was your ethereal form. you had already been basking in the warmth a few moments before the prince next to you had woken up.

the man groaned before turning over to face you fully. "mornin'." he grumbled out, causing you to turn your neck to face him. as you gazed at his drowsy state, you couldn't help but let a chuckle escape your lips. "good morning," you replied, your voice tinged with a lovingness he could only find with you.

the dawn was young as it shimmered on you, creating the most beautiful sight that one could imagine. something mydei loved about you was your effortless charisma, how you managed to be so inviting and careful during your duties and at home was beyond him.

"how long've you been up?" he asked groggily, yawning and extending his muscular arms out. something you loved about mydei was his own effortless charisma— to you, at least. his typically fierce glare always hindered when it was directed at you, instead replacing by a look of unadulterated admiration. you wondered if he was maybe hallucinating when he looked at you, considering the awe-struck look in his eyes.

"couple of minutes. the morning is particularly enchanting right now, no?" you replied, turning your eyes back to the window.

mydei grunted before sitting up as well, the silk sheets moving around his body like liquid. "it is." he answered, slightly taken aback by the unusual relief it gave.

before you could add onto the gawking of the sunrise, one of mydei's sturdy arms latched around your abdomen, pulling you back down into the soft sheets. you squeaked out a gasp in surprise, glaring down at him in confusion, "you're especially clingy today." you murmured to him, your tone bemused and teasing. "it's cold. just trying to stay warm." he excused, which in turn you laughed at.

as the two of you laid there in an undisturbed silence, your eyelids slowly began to grow heavy once more. mydei glanced down at your weary form, smiling smugly to himself at the fact that he managed to settle you down for a few more minutes of sleep. it may not be a lot, but time spent with you is worth more than anything. though the dusk was long to come, mydei could think of one thing to say; "goodnight," he whispered faintly, as to not disturb you, "i love you."

———

smoke drifted atop a tethered battlefield. there was a lingering sensation of defeat and desolation that flowed with the stuffy oxygen, creating a lump in mydei's throat.

blood was smeared over his chin, a result of the red droplets that fell from a small gash in his cheek. his golden eyes searched the worn soil franticly, begging to catch a glimpse of your face, to see that you were alive. all he needed now was the solace that you granted by simply being in his presence.

you, some yards from your lover, were seated uncomfortably against broken cement that you could only assume used to be a wall; the small civilization that once resided here had been reduced to crumbs.

heavy breathing could be heard in the distance, coupled with what sounded like distraught scuttling. you slowly opened your eyes to pin the location of the panic stricken footsteps, but were met with a sharp sting to your retinas. the smoke of the ruins had hardly settled and began to prick at your senses, inducing you to choke out a few strained coughs.

the small and vulnerable sound of someone gasping reached mydeimos' ears, to which he turned his head rapidly. he held an armored arm over his forehead, trying to shield his eyes from any of the smog that could possibly distract him.

through the grey, a figure could be outlined in the distance. they were hunched, hair messed up, and appeared to be holding their torso with one hand.

mydei's eyes widened as he rushed towards the individual, crouching down to meet them, "y/n? y/n!" he barked out your name, shaking you roughly to try and disturb you from the unconsciousness you succumbed to.

hardly aware, you wearily parted your eyelids, staring up into a familiar pair of optics. when mydei gazed at you, it was full of unadulterated admiration; however, two golden, terrified eyes met yours. you raised an eyebrow at him, "what?.." you said lazily, your head falling to the side.

mydei reached out to hold your face steadily, slowly bringing you into his arms as he knelt next to you. "no, no, no, what happened?!" he yelled. you would've flinched at his intense tone, but almost everything was drowned out by the drumming of your slowing heart. "why are you injured? what happened?!" he repeated, his tone less vigorous, yet still harsh.

mydei knew what happened. he should've been right next to you throughout the entire clash, he should've been behind you for you to fall back on, he was supposed to stand side by side as you two fought tirelessly to end the confrontation; yet he wasn't.

"mydeimos," you breathed out, your throat scratchy and pained. "i'm sorry." you mumbled, unaware of how pitiful you sounded.

"no, don't apologize, we're going to get out of here now." he commanded, his grip on your body tightening much to your discomfort.

a fatigued groan exerted from you as you removed your hand from the lethal gash in your abdomen. blood pooled around your clothing, tainting the fabric. mydei looked between your face and the wound, his breath picking up with panic.

"don't look at me like that.." you murmured remorsefully, reaching a crimson colored hand up to his face. your dirtied hand rested on his cheek as crystal drops of tears fell from mydei's eyes for the first time in forever.

the evening fell upon the two of you, a cold breeze coating the landscape. the land darkened and it seemed it was just the two of you in all of amphoreus. your gaze lingered from his pained face to the rising moon, and then back to him. "please," he begged, clutching you tighter and pulling him towards your chest as if to warm you up.

your hand fell from his face after a moment, the usual beaming color of your face draining slowly. your bottom lip quivered from the chill as you stared up at your lover.

"goodnight, mydei," you sighed. "i love you."

uhh this was made at 2:21 am so not really proofread :p I shld make some comfort after this to cheer yall up lmk who u want it with loool

[bertieorangy]

Y/N : so what’s your favourite colour

Mydei : stop asking me stupid questions, ask me something logical and matured

Y/N : how many moles of sodium bicarbonate are needed to neutralise 0.8 ml of sulphuric acid at STP

Mydei : my favourite colour is pink 💗

[blueberrisdove-sideblog]

𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖. 🍒 HOW THEY COMFORT YOU AFTER HAVING SEX WITH THEM .ᐟ

༄.° Paring : Phainon, Mydei, Aventurine, Fei Xiao x gn!reader

༄.° warnings : nsfw/smut, a lot of fluff, strap, (gentle) spanking, daddy kink, after-care, hickeys, thigh gripping, body worship, implied that reader is chubby. Over all there isn’t much warnings.

༄.° note : not proof-read sorry!

－୨ৎ PHAINON ；

The aftermath was quiet, save for the sound of your unsteady breathing. Your body still trembled, overstimulated and spent, the echoes of Phainon’s thrusts lingering like a phantom ache deep inside you. His cock had filled you so completely, stretched you open with a slow, deliberate cruelty that left your legs weak and useless beneath you.

Phainon exhaled a soft chuckle, voice smooth as silk as he traced lazy circles over your damp skin. “Worn out already?” His touch, so firm moments ago, had turned delicate—fingertips ghosting along your spine, pressing warmth into the lingering soreness. His other hand smoothed over your thigh, massaging away the tension he’d forced into it.

He shifted beside you, pulling you closer, his bare chest solid and warm against your back. “You take me so well,” he murmured, lips brushing the shell of your ear. His fingers drifted lower, skimming over the bruises his grip had left behind. “Should’ve been gentler.”

His tone was soft, but there was something almost pleased in the way he kissed your shoulder—like he loved seeing the evidence of himself on you. Still, he took his time now, easing you down from the high he’d dragged you to. He adjusted his position, letting you rest more fully against him, his cock still slick and heavy where it pressed against your thigh.

“Breathe,” Phainon murmured, stroking his hand through your hair. “I’ve got you.”

Your breath was still shaky, body still thrumming with the aftermath of him. Phainon held you close, his arms wrapped snug around your waist, his touch a stark contrast to the way he’d handled you just moments ago. His cock still rested heavy against your thigh, slick and warm, but he made no move to continue—just held you there, pressed against him like you belonged nowhere else.

You swallowed, voice coming out soft and tired. “You really wore me out,” you murmured, resting your hand over his where it lay against your stomach. His fingers twitched, then curled slightly, as if savoring the plushness of you beneath his palm.

A quiet chuckle rumbled in his chest. “I could tell,” Phainon murmured, his lips brushing against your shoulder. “You always try to keep up, but by the end, you just let me take what I want.” His fingers traced idle patterns over your skin, following the curves of your waist before dipping lower to your hip, where a faint bruise was already forming beneath his touch.

You huffed, shifting against him just enough to glance back at his face. “You don’t have to sound so smug about it,” you mumbled, though your voice lacked any real bite.

Phainon smirked, his grip tightening ever so slightly. “Can’t help it.” He shifted, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your shoulder before trailing his lips along the side of your neck. “You’re just too good for me.”

You sighed, letting yourself melt against him. His hands roamed lazily, smoothing over your soft thighs, ghosting over the marks he’d left on your skin as if he was trying to memorize every inch of you. He always did this after—touching, tracing, holding you close Like he never wanted to let you go.

His touch was different now—gentler, reverent, like he was savoring you instead of taking you apart. His fingers pressed into your softness, his palm spreading over your stomach again, rubbing slow circles against the plush skin. You felt his breath against your neck, warm and steady, grounding you in the quiet intimacy of the moment.

“You okay?” he murmured, his voice softer now, the teasing edge from earlier fading into something more tender.

You sighed, relaxing further into him. “Yeah… just sore.” Your hand found his and gave it a small squeeze. “You really don’t know how to hold back, huh?”

Phainon chuckled, low and pleased. “Not when it comes to you.” He shifted slightly, pressing his lips to your temple, his other hand continuing its slow, wandering path over your thighs, your waist, anywhere he could touch. “You can take it, though. You always do.”

You scoffed, though you couldn’t fight the warmth creeping up your neck. “You say that like I have a choice.”

Phainon smirked against your skin, nipping lightly at your shoulder before soothing the spot with his tongue. “You could tell me to stop,” he murmured. “But you never do.” His hand slid lower, squeezing the soft flesh of your thigh, as if to emphasize his point.

You shivered but stayed quiet, because he was right. Instead, you turned your head just enough to press a tired kiss to his jaw. “You’re so cocky,” you muttered.

“And you love it.” His voice was warm with amusement, but his hands never stopped moving—slow, lazy, possessive.

You exhaled, shifting slightly in his grip. “You’re not gonna let me move, are you?”

“Not for a while.” He pulled you in closer, his cock still pressed against your thigh, twitching slightly despite the tenderness in his touch. “Just stay like this.” His fingers traced over your stomach again, dipping lower, but not with any urgency—just enough to feel you, to keep you close.

You sighed, letting your eyes flutter shut. “Fine… but you’re carrying me to clean up.”

Phainon laughed, pressing another kiss to your shoulder. “Deal.”

✰

－୨ৎ MYDEIMOS；

The warmth of Mydei’s palm lingered on your skin, a soft sting left behind from the gentle spanks he’d given you earlier. He hadn’t been rough—not really. Just enough to make your breath hitch, to have you shivering against him, to leave the faintest warmth on your thighs and the curve of your ass. Now, though, his touch was nothing but soothing, tracing over the spots he’d struck as if to erase them. His cum oozing out of your entrance, as a little smirk formed on his lips.

You shifted in his lap, still catching your breath, your body spent from everything he’d done to you. His cock, still slick and heavy, rested against your thigh, a quiet reminder of how thoroughly he’d ruined you. Mydei sighed, pressing his forehead against your shoulder, his arms snug around your waist.

“You okay?” His voice was softer now, his usual sharpness dulled by the haze of exhaustion and afterglow.

You hummed, your fingers drifting up to play with the ends of his hair. “Mhm… just sore.” You paused, shifting slightly, feeling the warmth of his hands smoothing over your stomach, your hips, grounding you. “You really like spanking me, don’t you?”

Mydei huffed, his breath hot against your skin. “You react too well to it.” One of his hands left your waist to cup the curve of your ass, squeezing gently before rubbing slow circles where he’d spanked you. “Besides… I never do it too hard.”

You scoffed, pressing your face into his neck. “Still stings.”

“Tch.” He clicked his tongue, but his hands never stopped moving, kneading your soft skin, tracing over every mark he’d left behind. “Want me to kiss it better?”

You huffed a laugh, wiggling slightly in his lap, feeling his cock twitch against your thigh in response. “You’re ridiculous.”

He let out a quiet grunt, but you could feel the way his grip tightened just a little, the way his lips brushed against your temple, soft despite the roughness he always carried. “You’re the ridiculous one,” he muttered, shifting you slightly so you rested more fully against him. “Can’t believe you let me do this to you.”

You exhaled, letting yourself sink into his warmth, your fingers tracing lazy patterns over his chest. “You take care of me after,” you murmured. “You always do.”

Mydei was quiet for a moment, his arms tightening around you, his touch lingering where he’d marked you. “…Of course I do,” he said, as if the idea of doing anything else was absurd. His lips brushed against your shoulder, lingering. “I’ll clean you up in a minute,” he murmured, his voice lower now, quieter. “But stay like this for a little longer.”

You sighed, pressing a tired kiss to his jaw. “Yeah. Okay.”

You felt Mydei exhale against your skin, his breath warm and steady as he held you close. His fingers dragged over your thighs, then up to your waist, smoothing over the softness of your stomach before drifting back down again. His touch was lazy now, slow, as if he wasn’t ready to let go of you just yet. You didn’t mind. Being in his arms like this—after everything—felt grounding, safe.

“You always get so soft after,” you murmured, shifting slightly in his lap. His cock twitched against your thigh at the movement, but he didn’t react beyond the slow rub of his hands over your hips.

Mydei huffed, his lips brushing against your temple. “Only for you,” he muttered. His voice was quieter now, lacking its usual bite, like he’d poured out the last of his sharp edges into you and was left with nothing but warmth.

You smiled against his skin. “Good.”

His grip tightened slightly, fingers pressing into your softness before he let out a slow breath, forcing himself to relax again. His thumbs smoothed over the faint marks he’d left on your thighs, his expression unreadable as he traced over them again and again. You could tell he was thinking about them—about how hard he’d spanked you, about whether he’d gone too far.

“I’m okay, you know,” you murmured, tilting your head to press a soft kiss to his jaw. “You didn’t hurt me.”

His eyes flicked down to you, golden and unreadable for a long moment. Then, he clicked his tongue, his fingers giving your hips a small squeeze. “You’d tell me if I did, right?”

You nodded without hesitation. “Of course.”

Mydei studied you for a moment longer before exhaling through his nose, like he was only half satisfied with that answer. Still, his grip softened again, his hands trailing over your body in slow, grounding touches. “Good.”

Silence stretched between you for a while, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. You let yourself relax against him, your body still tingling from everything he’d done to you, from the aftershocks of pleasure that still pulsed through your limbs. His cock was still there, pressed heavy against your thigh, but there was no urgency left in either of you—just warmth, just the quiet hum of shared exhaustion.

“…You like seeing the marks, don’t you?” you murmured after a while, your voice laced with amusement.

Mydei stiffened for a fraction of a second before scoffing, turning his head slightly so you couldn’t see his face. “Tch. Don’t start.”

✰

－୨ৎ AVENTURINE ；

Aventurine’s touch was slow, teasing, as he traced his fingers over the faint warmth he’d left on your thighs. He had spanked you just enough to make you shiver, just enough to leave a lingering sting that had you clenching around him, whining so sweetly for more. But now? Now he was all indulgence, all slow, soothing touches as he massaged the tender spots, rubbing circles into your skin as if he hadn’t been the one to mark you up in the first place.

His cock still rested heavy against you, still slick with everything he’d done to you, but he made no move to do anything else. He was enjoying this part—holding you close, letting his hands roam over your softness, feeling you tremble under his touch. His voice was smooth as silk when he finally spoke.

“You always get so needy after, don’t you?” he murmured, pressing his lips to your temple. “Clinging to me like you can’t get enough.” His fingers dipped lower, smoothing over your stomach before sliding back up again, appreciating every inch of you.

You huffed, shifting slightly in his lap. “You’re warm,” you muttered, your voice muffled against his chest. “And you feel nice.”

Aventurine chuckled, the sound vibrating against your skin. “I do, don’t I?” His palm smoothed over your stomach, fingers spreading out to squeeze the soft flesh there before drifting lower, rubbing gentle circles into your sore thighs. “You’re so warm too, sweetheart,” he murmured, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “So soft… you fit in my lap perfectly.”

You huffed, squirming just a little, but he only tightened his grip, keeping you snug against his chest. His cock twitched against your thigh at the movement, still slick and heavy, a quiet reminder of how thoroughly he’d taken you. He let out a slow breath, nuzzling into your neck, his lips brushing the sensitive skin there.

“You were such a good thing for me,” he murmured, his tone deep and sweet, like honey drizzling over your skin. “Taking everything I gave you, letting me leave those pretty marks on you.” His fingers trailed over the spots where he’d spanked you, pressing just hard enough to make you whimper. “Bet you’ll feel them tomorrow.”

You shivered, leaning into his touch, heat pooling low in your stomach despite how exhausted you were. “You were the one who kept telling me to take it,” you muttered, voice still breathless. “Daddy.”

Aventurine groaned softly at the title, his grip flexing over your hips before he chuckled, low and indulgent. “That’s right,” he murmured, his teeth grazing your ear. “And you were so good for me. So sweet. Letting me spread you out, take my time ruining you.”

You whined softly, pressing your face into his neck to hide your embarrassment. He loved this—loved drawing out every little reaction, loved making you squirm even after he’d already had his fill. His fingers continued their slow, lazy path over your body, tracing the curves of your thighs, your waist, your stomach—anywhere he could touch.

After a moment, you sighed, your body melting further into his embrace. “You’re gonna clean me up, right?” you mumbled.

Aventurine smirked against your skin. “Of course, sweetheart,” he purred. “Gotta take care of my precious thing.” He kissed your jaw, lingering, his hands still roaming, still enjoying you. “But let me hold you a little longer first.”

You exhaled, sinking into his warmth, letting his hands and voice lull you into a hazy, blissful calm. “Fine… but I’m not moving.”

Aventurine chuckled again, kissing the corner of your mouth before resting his forehead against yours. “Didn’t expect you to, darling.”

✰

－୨ৎ FEI XIAO ；

Fei Xiao’s fingers traced slow, thoughtful patterns across your thighs, her touch featherlight as she smoothed over the warmth she had left behind. The soft sting of her palm lingered, a quiet reminder of the way she had handled you—firm, teasing, always in control. You could still feel the weight of the strap resting between your legs, still feel how deep she had taken you, but she wasn’t moving now. Just holding you, feeling you, her breath steady against your skin.

She hummed, the sound low and pleased. “You always go so quiet after I fuck you,” she murmured, dragging her nails lightly over your stomach before flattening her palm, rubbing slow circles into the softness there. “What’s on your mind, sweetheart?”

You swallowed, shifting slightly in her grip. “Just… tired,” you mumbled. “You really did a number on me.”

Fei Xiao chuckled, her arms tightening around you. “Did I now?” Her lips brushed against your shoulder, teasing, but there was something softer beneath it, something warm. She rolled her hips slightly, just enough to remind you that she was still inside you, still filling you even now. “You took me so well,” she murmured, almost to herself. “Made the prettiest sounds for me.”

Heat pricked at your skin, and you nudged her with your elbow. “You always have to tease me, don’t you?”

She only laughed, shifting to kiss along the side of your neck, her lips dragging slow, deliberate paths across your skin. “Wouldn’t be any fun if I didn’t.” One of her hands slid lower, smoothing over your thigh before squeezing lightly. “But I mean it—you were perfect for me.”

You sighed, letting yourself melt further into her touch. “You gonna clean me up, or are we just staying like this forever?”

Fei Xiao grinned against your skin. “Tempting.” But she was already pulling back slightly, brushing her fingers through your hair, tucking you against her chest. “Just a few more minutes, then I’ll take care of you.”

You huffed, but you didn’t argue. “Fine. But you owe me a massage after.”

Her laughter was rich, indulgent. “Anything you want, sweetheart.”

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

[lilbabypanda-blog2]

Mydei x (fem) reader (3)

Mydei’s secret friend

Part1 Part2 Part3

Y/N moved around the kitchen with quiet efficiency, setting out ingredients and lighting the stove. The warm glow of the flames flickered against the walls, casting a cozy light over the small home. As she worked, the scent of sizzling meat, fresh herbs, and fragrant spices gradually filled the air, wrapping around them like an inviting embrace.

Phainon sat at the table at first, lazily leaning back in his chair. Mydei, meanwhile, remained as he always did—silent and observing, arms crossed as if he had no interest in anything happening around him.

But after a few minutes, Phainon’s fingers started tapping against the table. Then his legs bounced a little. He glanced around, looked at the food, looked at Mydei, then back at the food. Finally, with a groan of impatience, he stood up.

“Alright, I cannot just sit here doing nothing,” he declared, rolling up his sleeves. “Let me help.”

Y/N raised an amused eyebrow. “You cook?”

Phainon scoffed, placing a hand on his chest as if deeply offended. “Of course I do! I’m a man of many talents.”

Mydei snorted. “I’ve seen you cook. It was a disaster.”

Phainon shot him an unamused look. “That was one time.”

“You nearly burned down the barracks.”

“The fire wasn’t my fault,” Phainon huffed. “It was the stove! Clearly defective.”

Y/N chuckled, handing him a knife and a bundle of vegetables. “Alright, let’s see if you’re as good as you claim.”

Phainon grinned and got to work, chopping away with enthusiasm. His technique was... passable at best. His slices were uneven, and his movements a little reckless, but at least he wasn’t entirely useless.

“So,” he started, casually sliding some diced onions into a bowl, “since Mydei is acting all mysterious about you, maybe you can tell me—what’s your story?”

Y/N stirred the pot on the stove, adding spices as she considered her answer. “That’s a broad question.”

“Fine, I’ll make it simpler,” Phainon said, pausing to dramatically wipe his imaginary sweat. “Where are you from?”

Y/N hesitated for only a fraction of a second before replying, “Here and there.”

Phainon stopped chopping. Squinted at her. “That’s not an answer.”

She smirked. “Isn’t it?”

“Yes! It’s exactly the kind of vague nonsense Mydei would say.” He groaned, running a hand through his white hair. “You two really are alike.”

“Maybe that’s why we’re friends.”

Phainon gasped, dramatically clutching his chest. “You admit it!”

“I never denied it.”

Mydei, still seated, smirked slightly. Finally, someone who could match Phainon’s energy.

Phainon, recovering quickly, grinned. “Alright, fine. If you won’t tell me that, then how about—”

“Don’t,” Mydei cut in, already seeing where this was headed.

Phainon turned to him with an innocent look. “Don’t what?”

“Don’t start prying into things that aren’t your business.”

“Oh, please, Mydei.” Phainon rolled his eyes. “I’m just trying to get to know our dear new friend.”

Mydei narrowed his eyes. “You’re trying to interrogate her.”

Phainon smirked but didn’t deny it. He turned back to Y/N and leaned against the counter. “I mean, you do have this whole ‘mysterious traveler’ thing going on. You can’t blame me for being curious.”

Y/N chuckled, flipping a piece of meat in the pan. “I don’t mind a little curiosity.”

Phainon shot Mydei a smug look. “See? She’s fine with it.”

“But I mind,” Mydei muttered.

Phainon sighed dramatically but didn’t push further—for now. Instead, he focused on helping with the cooking, sneaking in smaller, more casual questions whenever he could.

“So, what are we making?” he asked, watching as Y/N mixed ingredients together.

“A little of everything,” she replied. “Braised meat, some roasted vegetables, stew on the side.”

Phainon whistled. “You really know how to cook.”

Y/N shrugged, stirring the stew pot. “I like good food.”

Phainon nodded approvingly. “I respect that.”

The meal came together quickly, the flavors blending into something rich and savory. Mydei had remained mostly quiet, watching from his seat. But even he had to admit—the smell of the food was tempting.

Eventually, Y/N turned around, wiping her hands on a cloth. “Alright. Let’s eat.”

Phainon grinned. “Best thing I’ve heard all day.”

And as they sat down to share the meal,

The meal was nothing short of a success.

The rich aroma of the braised meat mixed with the savory warmth of the stew, perfectly complemented by the crisp, roasted vegetables. The food was flavorful, well-seasoned, and filling—something Phainon had no problem voicing.

“This—” Phainon took another bite, nearly humming in satisfaction, “—this is amazing. Y/N, you might just be my new favorite person.”

Y/N chuckled, sipping from her bowl. “Glad you like it.”

Phainon turned to Mydei, jabbing his spoon at him. “How come you never told me she could cook like this?”

Mydei sighed. “Because it’s not relevant.”

Phainon gaped. “Not relevant? Mydei, this is incredibly relevant.” He turned back to Y/N with a pleading expression. “If you ever need someone to taste-test your dishes, I volunteer.”

Y/N smirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Phainon took another bite, visibly savoring it before looking at Y/N again. “Alright, alright, I’ll admit defeat. You’ve won me over with food.” He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “Now, let’s get back to the important part—you and Mydei.”

Mydei groaned, already regretting staying.

Phainon grinned. “Come on, Y/N. You can’t keep dodging forever. You’ve already fed us, so why not throw in a little storytelling?”

Y/N tapped her fingers against her bowl, pretending to consider it. Mydei, sitting across from her, narrowed his eyes slightly. He knew she was enjoying this more than she let on.

After a few moments, she sighed in mock defeat. “Fine. Since you’re so curious.”

Phainon beamed, leaning in. “I am.”

Y/N placed her bowl down, glancing between the two men. “It happened at the ruins of Kremnos.”

Silence settled over the table as she began.

“I was exploring the area out of curiosity,” she explained. “The ruins are fascinating—old, crumbling, but still standing. I wanted to see what secrets they held.”

Mydei huffed. “Reckless.”

Y/N smirked. “Says the man who practically lives in battle.”

Phainon snickered. “She’s got a point.”

Y/N continued. “Along the way, I ran into some Titankin. Nothing I couldn’t handle. A few fights here and there.”

Phainon raised an eyebrow. “You took on Titankin alone?”

Y/N shrugged. “It wasn’t the first time.”

Phainon let out a low whistle. “Alright, impressive.”

Y/N nodded. “But then I spotted him.” She tilted her head toward Mydei. “At first, I wasn’t sure what I was looking at. He was moving through the ruins like a ghost—silent, purposeful. He didn’t seem like the usual treasure hunters or ruin explorers. There was something… different about the way he carried himself.”

Phainon grinned. “Creepy.”

“Focused,” Mydei corrected, rolling his eyes.

Y/N smirked. “Creepy and focused.”

Phainon burst out laughing. “I like you.”

Y/N chuckled before continuing. “I didn’t approach him at first. Instead, I watched from the shadows, keeping my distance. I wasn’t sure if he was a threat or not. But then…” She glanced at Mydei. “He noticed me.”

Mydei crossed his arms. “Of course I did.”

Y/N hummed. “But you didn’t know who I was. I had my hood and mask on, after all.”

Phainon’s eyes widened with amusement. “Wait, so Mydei was paranoid?”

“Agitated, more like,” Y/N corrected. “Neither of us knew who the other was, but we both assumed the worst. One wrong move, and suddenly—”

“A fight broke out,” Mydei finished, smirking slightly.

Y/N nodded. “And it wasn’t a small one, either.”

Phainon leaned forward, very invested now. “Tell me everything.”

Y/N took a sip of water before speaking again. “He was fast. Strong. He fought like he owned the battlefield, like nothing could stop him. I held my own, matching his attacks, dodging when I could. But Mydei…” She exhaled. “He doesn’t go down easily.”

Phainon grinned. “Trust me, I know.”

Mydei remained silent, simply listening.

“I realized something was off about him as the fight dragged on,” Y/N continued. “Most people—no matter how skilled—slow down eventually. Their stamina wears out. They make mistakes.”

“But he didn’t.”

She turned to Mydei. “You didn’t falter. Not even once. You just kept going.”

Phainon smirked. “Yeah, that’s the annoying part.”

Mydei rolled his eyes. “You sound bitter.”

“I am bitter.”

Y/N chuckled. “Eventually, I reached my limit. I wasn’t exhausted yet, but I could tell if the fight kept going, I’d lose. And then—” She glanced at Mydei again. “You won.”

Phainon clicked his tongue. “Of course he did.”

Y/N smirked. “You say that like it bothers you.”

“It does.”

Y/N laughed softly before continuing. “After that, I expected him to finish me off. Or demand to know who I was. But instead… he just stood there, looking at me. Studying me.”

Phainon turned to Mydei. “So? What were you thinking?”

Mydei shrugged. “I was curious.”

Phainon blinked. “That’s it?”

“There aren’t many who can match my strength,” Mydei said simply. “Besides the Chrysos heirs, most people don’t last long against me.” He glanced at Y/N. “But she did.”

Y/N smirked. “And so, instead of enemies, we became…”

“Rivals?” Phainon suggested.

“Friends,” Y/N corrected.

Phainon raised an eyebrow. “That’s a weird way to make friends.”

Y/N chuckled. “Maybe. But it worked.”

Phainon leaned back, arms crossed, clearly intrigued. “Huh. And here I thought Mydei was incapable of making friends on his own.”

Mydei groaned. “You’re insufferable.”

“I try.”

Y/N laughed softly, enjoying the banter between them. The conversation continued, shifting between jokes, light teasing, and small stories.

For once, Mydei didn’t mind the company.

And maybe—just maybe—he didn’t mind sharing this story either.

The meal was nearly finished, but the conversation carried on, the air warm with lingering laughter and the scent of spices still thick in the air. Phainon, still savoring the last bites of his meal, leaned forward with his usual mischievous grin.

“So,” he drawled, tapping his fingers against the table, “you and Mydei. Fighting, exploring, being all mysterious together. That’s nice and all—but surely, surely there’s more.”

Y/N tilted her head. “More?”

“Oh, don’t play coy now,” Phainon said, grinning. “You must have some good stories about our ever-serious prince here.”

Mydei sighed, already regretting not leaving earlier.

Y/N tapped her chin, as if considering it. “Well… there is one thing.”

Phainon perked up immediately. “Yes. Spill.”

Y/N smirked, casting Mydei a glance. “Did you know he likes baking?”

The room fell silent.

Phainon stared. Then he slowly turned to Mydei. “What?”

Mydei, who had been drinking water, exhaled sharply through his nose and set his cup down hard. “Y/N.” His voice held a clear warning.

But Y/N only smiled, resting her chin in her hand. “Oh, did I say something I shouldn’t have?”

Phainon blinked, as if trying to process what he just heard. Then, a slow, delighted grin spread across his face. “No. No way.”

Y/N nodded. “It’s true.”

Phainon pointed at Mydei, barely holding back his laughter. “You—you bake?”

Mydei scowled. “It’s not a big deal.”

“Not a big deal?” Phainon let out a short laugh. “You, the Mydei, Crown Prince of Kremnos, warrior of Okhema, immortal being rejected by death itself—stand in a kitchen and bake?”

Y/N chuckled. “And he’s good at it too, i love his honey cakes.”

Phainon gasped, pressing a hand to his chest in exaggerated shock. “I—I don’t even know what to say.” He turned to Mydei, eyes practically sparkling. “Why have you never told me this?”

“Because it’s not your business,” Mydei grumbled, shooting Y/N a look.

Y/N just smiled innocently. “You never told me to not mention it.”

Phainon was clearly enjoying this revelation far too much. “What do you even bake?”

“Does it matter?” Mydei snapped.

Y/N, still unbothered, answered for him. “Mostly cake. Sometimes pastries or bread.”

Phainon’s mouth fell open. “You bake pastries?”

“… Occasionally.”

Phainon nearly collapsed in his seat. “This is the best thing I’ve ever learned.”

Mydei groaned, rubbing his temples. “I should’ve left when I had the chance.”

"can I try some...." phainon ask but mydei cut him off "NO!"

Phainon ignored him, still grinning. “So, what else? What other hidden talents does our dear prince have?”

Y/N hummed. “Let’s see… Oh, sometimes we go on walks together.”

Phainon blinked. “Walks.”

“Mmhm.”

“You mean like, patrolling ruins? Training?”

“No,” Y/N said casually, “just strolling around.”

Phainon looked between the two of them. Then, with an absolutely incredulous expression, he burst into laughter. “You’re lying.”

“I’m not,” Y/N replied, still amused.

Phainon turned to Mydei, who looked deeply, deeply (very deeply) unamused. “You—you take walks?”

Mydei scowled. “I don’t see the issue.”

“The issue is that you don’t even like talking to most people, let alone casually strolling with them!” Phainon exclaimed, still grinning. “Yet here you are, taking relaxing little walks like you don’t have the reputation of a battle-hardened warrior prince.”

Mydei exhaled through his nose, clearly trying to contain his irritation. “Are you done?”

Phainon smirked. “Not even close.”

Y/N chuckled, continuing, “Sometimes he even accompanies me when I explore ruins.”

Phainon shook his head, feigning shock. “Mydei? Voluntarily exploring with someone else?”

Y/N nodded. “He’s surprisingly good company.”

Phainon raised an eyebrow. “Surprisingly?”

“Well, he still complains sometimes,” Y/N admitted.

Mydei huffed. “Because you get distracted.”

“It’s called curiosity,” Y/N said with a smirk.

“It’s called reckless wandering.”

Phainon was absolutely thriving in this conversation. “Wow, this is so much better than I expected.” He grinned at Mydei. “And you always act like you prefer being alone.”

Mydei shot him a glare. “I still do.”

Phainon just grinned wider. “Sure, buddy.”

Y/N, watching the exchange, only smiled. She had no regrets about letting a few things slip.

If anything, she was enjoying it as much as Phainon was.

Phainon sat back in his chair, rubbing his temples dramatically, as if he were trying to process something impossible. He sighed, shaking his head in disbelief before turning his sharp blue eyes back to Y/N.

“I just… I don’t get it,” he said, voice laced with genuine confusion. “You. Friends. With him.” He gestured toward Mydei like he was pointing at a wild animal rather than a person.

Mydei narrowed his eyes. “Watch it.”

Phainon ignored him completely, leaning toward Y/N. “You do know who you’re talking about, right? Mydei? Crown Prince of Kremnos? The guy who treats most people like an inconvenience? The same Mydei who barely tolerates me—and I’m fantastic!”

Y/N simply chuckled, amused by his reaction. “And?”

Phainon threw up his hands. “And—how did this happen? How are you still here? Why haven’t you run off like every other sane person he’s scared away?”

Y/N only smiled before turning toward Mydei, her expression warm. Then, without hesitation, she stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him in a gentle, familiar embrace.

Mydei froze.

Phainon’s jaw dropped.

Y/N didn’t seem to notice their reactions—or if she did, she didn’t care. She rested her head lightly against Mydei’s shoulder, speaking softly. “Because Mydei is an amazing friend.”

Mydei remained stiff, like he wasn’t sure what to do with himself. His mind immediately jumped to retreating—he wasn’t used to people being this open with him. But Y/N’s embrace was warm, steady, completely unafraid.

Phainon, meanwhile, looked like he had just witnessed a divine revelation. He pointed at Mydei in stunned disbelief. “What. The. Hell.”

Y/N pulled back just enough to meet Mydei’s gaze, her eyes filled with warmth. “I mean it,” she said gently. “I wouldn’t trade him for anything.”

Phainon gawked. Mydei stared.

The room was completely silent.

Y/N, as if unaware of the sheer shock she had just sent through them, continued smiling. “Sure, he can be a little grumpy, and he acts like he doesn’t care—but he does.” Her voice was soft but firm. “He always has my back. He listens, even when he pretends not to. He’s reliable, strong, and even if he won’t say it outright… he’s someone you can always count on.”

Mydei swallowed, his jaw tightening slightly. There was something unfamiliar twisting in his chest—something he didn’t quite know how to handle.

Phainon finally found his voice, pointing at Mydei in absolute astonishment. “Who are you and what have you done with the real Mydei?”

Y/N laughed. “Oh, he’s still the same Mydei.”

Phainon shook his head, still completely thrown. “I refuse to believe this. You like him?”

“Of course.” Y/N gave Mydei a small squeeze before pulling away fully. “He’s my friend.”

Phainon dragged a hand down his face, muttering to himself, “This is insane.”

Y/N chuckled, watching as Mydei exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his face like he was trying to shake off whatever strange emotions had settled over him.

“…You’re both insufferable,” Mydei muttered at last.

Y/N just smiled, her expression knowing. “Sure, Mydei.”

Phainon slumped in his chair, still staring at them like he had seen a ghost. “I think I need to lie down.”

Y/N laughed again, and just for a brief moment—so brief it was almost imperceptible—Mydei’s lips twitched upward, barely a ghost of a smirk.

For once, he didn’t entirely mind the company. (Except for phainons)

Phainon stood in the doorway, arms crossed, staring at Mydei like he was trying to solve some impossible puzzle. His blue eyes narrowed in suspicion, darting between him and Y/N.

“I’m leaving,” he finally announced, though it sounded more like he was trying to convince himself that this was real life.

“Good,” Mydei muttered.

Phainon ignored him. Instead, he pointed dramatically at Y/N. “But you. You’re strange.”

She simply smiled. “I’ve been told.”

Phainon exhaled heavily, raking a hand through his white hair. “I need—” he paused, shaking his head. “I don’t even know what I need. To think maybe. To lie down. To question reality.” He took a step back. “This isn’t over.”

And with that, he finally left, muttering something under his breath about "needing a drink" and "Mydei being secretly replaced by a doppelgänger."

Silence filled the room.

Mydei let out a deep exhale, rubbing his temple. “Finally.”

Y/N chuckled softly. “You say that, but you know he’s going to be losing his mind over this for weeks.”

Mydei just grunted. “Not my problem.”

They sat in a comfortable quiet, the golden evening light filtering through the window, casting a warm glow over them. For a while, there was nothing but the soft sounds of the city outside, the occasional distant chatter from passersby.

Then, Mydei spoke, his voice quieter than usual.

“…You meant all of that?”

Y/N turned her head slightly to look at him. “Of course.”

His crimson eyes flickered with something unreadable. He stared at the floor, his fingers idly tapping against his knee. “…Even the part where you said you wouldn’t trade me for anything?”

She smiled. “Especially that part.”

His jaw tightened slightly, as if the words were settling somewhere deep in his chest, somewhere unfamiliar.

Y/N shifted closer, resting her head gently on his shoulder.

Mydei immediately stiffened. His entire body went rigid, like someone had just dropped a battleaxe in his lap. His first instinct was to move away—space, he always needed space—but… he didn’t.

He let out a slow breath.

“You don’t have to overthink it,” Y/N murmured, voice soft and reassuring. “I like you just the way you are, Mydei.”

His breath hitched.

“I adore you,” she added. “Grumpiness, sharp edges, and all.”

Heat crawled up his neck. He knew it. He felt it. His entire face was burning.

“…You say ridiculous things,” he muttered.

“And yet,” Y/N teased, “you’re still listening.”

He huffed, scowling slightly. But he didn’t move.

He let her stay, resting against him, her warmth a quiet comfort.

For once, he didn’t feel the need to push it away.

Meanwhile, outside, Phainon had barely made it five steps before stopping in his tracks. He placed his hands on his head, eyes wide, staring at nothing in particular.

“This—this doesn’t make sense.” His voice was hoarse, as if the very fabric of reality had just been torn apart before him.

He turned toward the nearest street vendor. “Hey, hey, quick question—what do you do when you see something so impossible, so unbelievable that your brain refuses to accept it?”

The vendor blinked. “…Uh.”

Phainon grabbed his shoulders. “Do you—do you just pretend it didn’t happen? Do you try to rationalize it? Or do you just—accept it?”

The vendor nervously handed him a roasted skewer of meat. “Uh… here. Have this. You seem… unwell.”

Phainon took it but barely noticed. He turned back toward Y/N’s house, eyes still wide in disbelief.

“I need to sit down.”

And with that, he promptly collapsed onto a bench, skewer still in hand, questioning every life decision that had led him to this moment.

_______________________________________

Well here's the 3rd part XD

If u have any wishes or scenarios u wanna see, feel free to ask XD

[miyaz6ki]

header by @/3skumakuma on twt/x :) // mydei brainrot i had to yap about somewhere. NSFW!! MDNI!!

can imagine him rolling his hips so good while fucking, hitting that oh-so-nice spot he can't help but groan with you while you moan out his name. fuck he could never get over that pretty little voice of yours. he needed it so badly, needed to hear that voice mewl every letter of his title, honorific, he needed to listen to you talk about him.

what's the difference between listening and hearing? i'll give you a bit to answer that.

...

it's that listening is to understand, and hearing is just letting the information pass from one ear to another. correct! and what did he need to do? he didn't just want to hear you moan his name, he needed to listen to how good he was making you feel!

especially when he feels your nails dig deep into the strength of his biceps. a pathetic chuckle exited the rasp of his throat, "yeah, 'm sorry baby.. feels s' good right?"

lifting you up better, sitting you up onto the base of his cock properly, and inserting his member into your entrance as easily as earlier. still soaking wet from how long he had been hitting your, and well... now his favorite spot to hit inside you too was being thrust, and grinded against. you could feel your umpteenth orgasm already, as his palm roughly gripped your chin.

"look at what a mess you are for me.. jus' f' me, yeah?" the imprint of his dick was clear as the sky in your stomach literally had you aching looking at it, both mentally and physically. the more you stared at the scene in the reflection, the more red rushed up your body and onto your face.

his calloused hands were placed on your waist, rough, purple marks were just as imprinted as his dick was on your torso. "y'know you could always tap out, baby." he knew how little your stamina was, so before he'd ever go rough, he'd definitely ask before either of you go any further. as long as you say so, don't mind if he does!

VERY into dirty talk, but refrains from degradation, and loves you too much to ever think of insulting you. as well as any nicknames that would ever make you doubt yourself or whatever.

+ great aftercare because he's the goat, plus it's also canon he's very good (or just good) with children, so you love getting to observe that side of him when you both get to go out. idk why i discussed this at the very last. ill make it a different post about it probably:^

[brynn-lear]

The Abduction of King (Y/n) [Yandere Mydei x Reader]

A/n: Here I go, an asexual trying to learn how to write smut, so bear with me as I start this journey. Also, note that this story presumably happens after the entire Amphoreus Quests, so I’m running under assumptions on how the story ends. I enjoyed writing this reader. It’s always refreshing to write nice people turned feral.

Unreliable Synopsis: The new Stellaron Hunter, King (Y/n), is always welcome to visit the Express. Life has a way of changing a person… And Mydei couldn't accept his beloved’s new “whatever will be, will be” attitude.

CW/Tags: female reader (“King” is your title), slight hurt/comfort, yandere!mydei, toxic relationship, heavily implied one-sided sunday/reader, mild violence, and dubcon elements 

To smell and taste pomegranate juice— such were your aspirations before living the life you have now. 

You are simultaneously at the lowest and highest point of your life.

Being falsely accused of "matricide" was an unpredictable way to achieve that wish, yet you are nonetheless grateful for the hand you dealt with. You'd dare say it's a blessing in disguise. Despite your retainer’s blatant “betrayal”, you were thankful he had ground your knees against gravel and harsh pebbles. If anything, he wrote you a lovely story.

(Y/n) was exposed to have “murdered” her mother, the King, in the Charmony Festival.

Former King (Y/n) originally fled her mysterious unknown planet.

Former King (Y/n) joined the Stellaron Hunters soon after.

Exciting, is it not? Crimes you hadn't committed weighed intolerably upon you. Your planet, Amphoreus, wouldn't dare open its mouth for a choir. No tears shall be collected in jars should you perish, instead, your funeral will be basked with laughter. Daidalos is not a forgiving nation. The Daidalosan Cathedrals would sooner strike a beloved saint’s statue down than a chord from your songs. 

You still vividly recall Kafka’s opaque stare through her tinted glasses. The playful yet empathetic smirk on her face served to entice you to her. She needn't use a whisper. Fate just had its way with you.

The Nameless get to shelter a wounded bird, while the Hunters take on a new apprentice.

As poetic as that sounds, your resolve isn't cruel and unfeeling. If it were, you doubt the Express would take kindly to your serene shenanigans.

You giggled. Truth be told, you were aware as to why March left in a hurry. 

You may hold yourself with sheer elegance and an astute gaze befitting of the crown, but behind it lies a mischievous streak that remains undetected. What can you say? Perhaps this sneakiness is an act of love. You do miss their company.

Several months ago, the Nameless went on a dangerous mission to Amphoreus. 

The unknown planet the galaxy you hailed from that the rest of the galaxy does not know?

That was Amphoreus.

 The very same planet you escaped from was the place Dan Heng and Stelle landed blindly.

Aside from Elio, only a single soul knows this one other dangerous fact: you cannot taste or smell anything— and fall victim to catatonic moods more capriciously than others. Your ailment does not terrify you more than Kafka’s lack of fear (ironically), Yingxing’s mara— and especially not more than Firefly’s syndrome. Just a scratch to your patchwork of problems. You had support. Your people once wholeheartedly gave you your flowers for the good you've done. And it pains you immensely how you cannot express genuine gratitude for it.

You may have been a great King, but Kephale never favored you. Unfortunately, you cannot resign to THEIR uneven-handedness much longer.

You are not a Chrysos Heir.

You are just an Amphoreus Tragedy.

It's no small wonder that you offered your life to Elio, hoping he'd one day pull out a feast that would satisfy your tastebuds. That day won't happen any time soon. Not that you mind.

Cause you'll get to see Stelle, Dan Heng, March, and Sunday suffer while drinking your horrendous drinks— if you're lucky, Himeko’s as well.

Ah, your seemingly earnest and just demeanor is truly a gift that keeps on giving. Your “friends” are gone. You stand on new ground, one that allows you to take the smallest things to heart.

Your mother’s “murder” is when you started noticing what matters in life.

Now, you enjoy the silence.

Listen deeply. The child in you that wasn’t allowed to. Let it heal.  

It’s what Kafka ordered you to do, and it was the best command a King could ever receive.

“Going somewhere?” 

You stopped walking and looked up from your phone. A familiar young boy standing by the doorway. He had a small smile on his face, despite barring the exit.

“Lord Elio?”

“Indeed,” he nodded. “This is your first time seeing me in this form. And I assure you, this won't be the last.”

Given his clairvoyant abilities, you figured that to be true.

“My apologies for not recognizing you, Lord Elio,” you frowned. “I'm afraid I have grown more accustomed to your feline form.”

“No need for apologies.”

He handed you a machete.

Machetes are your weapon of choice, and quite frankly, no other steel fits like a glove. The lances of Daidalos do not compare to the satisfying momentum brandishing a machete elicits. Unpolished. Unkingly. Unsightly.

Personally? 

… You thought they were cute.

They remind you of someone.

They say never bring a weapon to a fistfight, but that little prince never minded.

You cleared your throat but stopped yourself when Elio raised his hand, disinterested in how you would inevitably pay him back in credits or an equivalent.

"I-I am most grateful, yet I must inquire— what purpose does this serve?" You inclined your head slightly, your gaze steady. "Is there an urgent expedition that demands my attention?"

“If there was an emergency, there would have been a contingency plan beforehand.” The boy giggled, fixing his bow tie with a smug smile. “But no, I just urge you to take this on your way to the Express. Just in case a small miracle triggers. Which, I doubt.”

Hmm, there must be a threat later then. Shame. 

Elio cautioned you. “You might also regret wearing that.”

“Wearing what?”

“Red.”

You assessed your appearance. At first, you thought nothing wrong about your flinty rings and maroon pantsuit. “Does it not look good on me?”

“One might say it’s too good on you,” Elio muttered. “Let’s hope it doesn’t reach that point.”

“Understood.” You bowed.

“Lastly, King (Y/n)?” Elio shook his head. 

“Yes, my Lord?”

“Do not bow for me,” he exhaled, mildly exasperated by your antics. “You are one of us. You are a Stellaron Hunter, do you understand?”

“Yes, of course, my Lo—”

“None of that either!”

“Yes… Elio.”

“Better,” the young boy opened the exit.

Then, he opened his eyes. It's those piercing blue shades that make you both uncomfortably seen and relievedly accepted.  

“Next time you come back, we'll have a giant feast for your return. No pomegranates. It's a feast that may just be more memorable than your previous birthday celebrations.” Elio’s grin widened. “Truth is, once our prodigal King returns, she shall become a Stellaron Hunter.”

No pomegranates? Become a Stellaron Hunter? What an odd choice of words— and aren't you already a hunter?

Does it even matter?

You can’t taste anything.

You laughed. Elio loves your laugh for it was always a whole, hearty, and joyous sound. A laugh befitting a king. 

“Much like my favorite bard, I do not understand a word out of you. However, do not worry—” You stepped out the door. 

“I am looking forward to it!”

“I'm ashamed I can't show you a better sight when you've been enthused to visit. What a pity. I cannot stand to present to you such weaklings.”

“Weaklings, you say.” You muttered. “Little prince, their rib cages are stretched open with limbs bleeding out. This torture you call training outmatches the way we Daidalosans treat prisoners.”

You picked up the tortured gladiator’s weapon.

It was a machete.

“Was it necessary to torture them…?”

“Δασκάλ�� μου (My teacher), they have insulted you and Daidalos. I cannot allow such slander to the former.”

You saw the intense sincerity in his eyes and turned away.

No matter how many times you have rejected his heart, he continues to court you in ways that disturb many.

“You care too much about me. I hope you would spare such care for your gladiators instead.”

“And you care too little about yourself. This is precisely why your nation fears our military might, King (Y/n). Make no mistake, everyone suffers in their imagination more often than in reality.” He scoffed. “Even these soldiers.”

█████ laughed. To him, this is one of many days where no one remembered the fallen except for spectators such as yourself. █████ watched as your eyes batted over the strewn rubble where your grandfather’s soldiers once fought for the realm’s peace. He saw conflict in those (e/c) eyes. A dead silent remorse for faces you have never truly seen.

Even so, you smiled sadly. 

That smile was out of place in Prince █████'s Spoliarium.

“███, that may be your opinion, but our mind IS our reality. It may seem overdramatic and unreasonable to you, but the pain is not any less real.”

“We seriously need to master how to make coffee before (Y/n) gets here….”

“Don't worry so much, Dan Heng, we at least persuaded Himeko to visit Herta so that's one big bomb deactivated!”

“... should you be adding that much Halovian sugar? I believe that unhealthy proportions are against many culinary rules.”

“Rules? What rules, Sunday? Nah. These are guidelines.” 

“What— Stelle, NO!!!”

You snorted a sound that does not sound elegant in the slightest. Both Dan Heng and March 7th apprehended their callous friend. Sunday’s wings perked up upon hearing you, and a smile formed on his face before he even knew it. Meanwhile, the three only took notice of you when they successfully extracted the sugar from her hands.

You placed a hand on your mouth, hiding any impolite laughter.

“I've just arrived, and it sounds like an interesting conversation. Shame, I should've arrived moments prior.”

“(Y/n)! Nonsense, you came at a perfect time.” Sunday sauntered joyfully, standing up to usher you toward Shush’s counter. “There's a seat beside me, please come here.”

“Look at him, already making the moves,” March whispered to Stelle, snickering.

Stelle, a master of the stoic expression, only nodded. “Let him cook.”

Dan Heng rolled his eyes, ignoring the two.

“King (Y-”

“Just (Y/n), please.” You pouted. “You are all an equal to me.”

“... (Y/n).” Dan Heng scratched his neck. “About the brewing session…”

Your questions were lost in Dan Heng’s recitals of Himeko leaving for Herta’s Space Station, Stelle’s failed attempts at brewing her cup (it somehow turns into alcohol-like beverages), and the crew’s insistence that the next batch should follow online recipes. This made you laugh more than you thought you would. So, you decided to drop the idea altogether, to everyone’s relief.

“Instead, we can talk about our last journey instead, how about it?” Stelle offered.

Your smile stiffened.

“Ah, yes, I believe that was in…”

“Amphoreus!” March grinned. “The pictures Dan Heng and Stelle took were so nice. Here, let me get it—”

“There is no need for that.”

You spoke a little too quickly.

More perceptive than you thought, the crew noticed your sudden change.

“(Y/n)?” Sunday spoke, placing a hand on your shoulder. “Is something wrong?”

“I know why.” Stelle pushed away from the table, upsetting her chair before theatrically balancing herself back. She then went on carelessly:

“It’s because she’s from Amphoreus.”

March’s eyes widened. “WHAT?!”

You looked away, sighing. “Shush, do you have a bottle of Retsina wine?”

“Wait, w-where did you get this information, Stelle?” Dan Heng shook her slightly. “I don’t recall hearing that—”

“She’s the former King of Daidalos, which is far away from Okhema. Honestly, I just saw it around stone tablets. Daidalos is a long-fallen land of artisans. People thought she died by execution because no one believed she did reach beyond the sky. They also say she’s the mentor and childhood crush of crown prince M—”

“You know a lot and you never thought to tell us about ANY this?!” March gawked. “What the heck Stelle!?!”

“I just thought it wasn’t that important.”

“Yes, yes it is!!!”

While the three argued over details, Sunday took the bottle from Shush and poured you a glass. There’s a look of understanding in his eyes, and he won’t ask unless you want him to. You gave him a small smile, acknowledging his empathy.

“You look rather pale, have those Hunters done something to you?” Sunday inquired, his unease blatant. “Is it your mission? Have they been asking the impossible?”

“What? No. My workload is infinitely a lot less weighty than the crown.” You grinned, teasing. “It's all light work.”

He figured he had nothing else of value to add. Still, his eyes were skewed. Sunday won't be dropping the issue any time soon.

“Then why do you look kinda miserable?” Stelle asked.

“Steeeeelle! C’mon, watch your mouth. How do you always sound so offensive?” March whined.

You placed a hand on your head. “Hmm, I shall not lie, nightmares have been mostly a root cause for my unsightly and dim appearance as of late. Pathetic, I am aware—”

“Nightmares?” Dan Heng shifted his body forward, closer to you. “Like what?”

“I dream of an old… friend a lot more frequently.” You paused. Should you be saying this? “And more often than not, I'm being… chased… by him.”

Both Stelle and March looked at Dan Heng. He bit his bottom lip, thinking. 

“... Where is your new mission?”

“Elio has given me no command,” You sighed deeply. “He declared that the plans are already set in motion, and it falls upon me to rise to the occasion, whatever challenge it may be that calls upon me.”

“Oof. Good luck.” Stelle said, but the air of those words seems a little more knowing.

March chuckled nervously. “Yikes…”

Sunday had no comment. Instead, he also poured himself a drink.

“I'd be wary if I were you.” Dan Heng’s gaze was astutely focused on yours. “I've been through something similar. Nightmares, that is.”

"Is that so?" You murmured, swirling the coffee in your cup with an air of detached curiosity. "And what transpired thereafter?"

“...”

March 7th laughed, uneasy.

“Well, uh, it kinda came true?” March’s eyebrow furrowed, wearing a strained smile. “It's good though, Blade didn't actually kill him so…?”

“March.”

“I'm sorry, it was just too silent, I couldn't stand it!”

“... What were the dreams like? Can you elaborate?”

You paused at Sunday’s questions.

█████ towered over your chained form, clenching an open letter in his strong hands. His knuckles were white from the sheer anger he held them.

“Entertaining a love letter, are we?”

He sneered.

“How dare you consider suitors other than myself?”

█████ knelt down and harshly grabbed your chin.

“Shall I pluck his feathers out for you?”

“Cold.” 

You muttered. “Lacks warmth.”

Sunday has never been this tempted to get into someone’s mind.

Dan Heng placed a hand on his chin. 

“Anything else? Like vivid smells or tastes?”

You laughed. “Are those things important?”

“Sorta?” March quipped.

“Is that so…” You wouldn’t know. Both senses eluded you.

…

…

Suddenly, you had willed your words into existence.

“!!!”

Someone uninvited has entered the Express.

An immediate tension gripped everyone’s lungs, and each heart in the vicinity quickened. A subtle shift, imperceptible yet undeniable, stirred them all. A silent warning. Eyes darted nervously, glances exchanged with no words. The Nameless knew that something was about to emerge. The weight of the unknown pressed heavily upon their shoulders, and though none dared speak it aloud, they could feel it— whatever was coming was drawing near.

The lights flickered and died out.

“LOOK OUT!!!”

Enshrouded by a ghost who trailed behind, you grabbed Sunday and jumped away. The sound of metal rang. None of you could see the other. Pompom’s screams, asking for what was happening, droned on inside the other car. 

You must’ve barely dodged that attack. Swiftly, you brandished your machete. Instincts that infiltrated each inch of your veins screamed that the intruder you faced was a familiar soul. Your body warmth congealed a hand’s breadth below the blade’s sharp rim. It’s been a while since you felt this threatened.

This excited.

You sported a boyish grin. Been a long long while since you had felt true risk— a real divergence from your tolerable comfort zone.

“Come and face me in the light, coward.”

The figure drew their already built frame taller to stiffen their pride.  You spun to the side, narrowly avoiding a crushing blow that tore through the air. Your instincts were sharp.

With a final joining of force and momentum, you swung your machete with half of your strength.

It met the shadow’s fists, causing an ear-bleeding stalemate of metal against metal.

Seconds passed, and it was clear that an impasse had been reached.

You both pulled away— and the figure ignited a fire within his palms.

As if your eyes were spiked with visions of red and yellow— you squinted at the strange man. His bare skin and intense eyes are enough to make the common man buckle his knees and tremble. 

But you know that face.

It's the one soul who knows your secrets.

You paled.

“... Dei?”

That face, though aged, belonged to the young boy you taught patiently. The same stubborn boy who wanted peace for his people even though the chances were slim. The only person who would vouch for your innocence. The kid who you secretly envied for his cursed immortality— for his status as a Chrysos Heir.

The little prince who wanted you beside HIS throne.

It was Dei himself. 

Crown Prince Mydeimos of Kremnos— the land of Daidalos’ “worst enemy”.

“Dei” grinned. He languidly raised his head, his gaze towering above you. A shadow clouded his face and settled in his eye.

You, who had reduced his name to one syllable on the day you met, was the first woman he had come to admire ardently.

Riotous pomegranate wines that hedonistically spill in white table cloths that adjoin themselves like countries on a map— saintly garbs donned by faces achieving a carnal state of euphoria— those were the images that describe Daidalos to the crown prince. Holy, but unrighteous. 

Yet, when the sky brightly illuminated your face at the outdoor picnic you extended the invite to, the Prince was royally smitten. Humbly, you were dressed only in a simple sundress. No accessories or cloaks to elevate yourself. In the seeded topsoils of the plains, you were the most natural beauty to behold.

Mydeimos had grown obsessed with the consistent air of absentminded integrity you carry as King. It was not an aura he had the privilege of carrying. But he will live that life vicariously through you.

“Δασκάλα μου. (My teacher.) Kαρδιά μου. (My heart.)” The prince scoffed an airy smirk. Not a word can describe his smug satisfaction. “Found you, at long last.”

Chrome, gold, and pomegranate red.

Those had always been his colors.

And that included the color of…

“You adorn yourself in every color but red, is there a reason why?”

“Red is more of your color, little prince.” You humored him. “And a King wearing red is an omen for war. The same is said for our flag.”

“I see.”

… blood and war. A color entirely suited for his calling.

You froze without breathing, struck dumb.

How did he leave Amphoreus?!

You greeted with a frown.

“... Hello, little prince.”

You can’t believe this.

Leaving took you centuries to perfect!

How did he do it?!

Mydei instantly detected within you an erosion of self-assurance.

Just talking to him felt no different from downing some of Kafka’s fancy wines. While you consider yourself above petty theft, this situation compels you to understand her deeply. You, too, would pocket Dreamjolt Hostelry’s alcohol to an amount you felt was just after talking to this prince.

He recklessly held your blade. The Chrysos Heir thrust your weapon’s handle against your palm whilst his own bled profusely.

It had always been difficult to challenge an opponent with no self-preservation.

“Has joining these intergalactic bandits stripped you of every bit of decorum, King (Y/n)?” He shook his head. Taking advantage of your paralyzed state, the prince yanked the machete away, allowing it to pelt to the floor with a harsh thud. 

The prince leaned down to kiss your hand, but the sudden pause shocked both you and him.

“Where is it?” He spoke gravely with murderous rage.

You pursed your lips. “Where is what, Prince Mydeimos?”

“Your ring.” Mydei spoke. “The Daidalos King’s ring.”

A laugh escapes your lips. One without any semblance of humor.

“It is a ring that adorns only the hand of a King, does it not? Yet I, alas, no longer bear such a title. You may put those facts together to form your conclusion.” You answered, nose turned up snobbishly. 

He glared.

The prince threw what was assumed to be a warp device that formed a distortion that connected the Express to Amphorous. Your eyes widened and you snapped back to make eye contact with Stelle. 

You only had a second to think.

“CALL KAFKA!!!—”

“(Y/n)!!!”

But before they could reach and save you, you and the intruder disappeared.

Just as there was no consensus if the Nameless should involve themselves in this matter or not, no trailblazer had the same opinion of following suit aligned with their beliefs. Sunday desperately tried to have everyone on his side, whereas the wiser of the crowd had more sway with their stable voices. The three only had to watch and wait for Kafka to arrive. 

Until then, the express was silent.

Crown Prince Mydeimos, son of Gorgo, may not be the sharpest of men— but he lived a proud life.

“That Prince again, how many more of our King’s time shall he exhaust?!”

“I do not know myself, Aitherios, but he certainly does not mean well.”

“And we are to let that man linger in our castle?”

“I suppose so.”

“But Luminia!—”

He had never hid his true self. There, Mydei would stand, taking no more notice of them than they are of him. Though usually unrestrained, he would hold himself back for those who spat venom were your people. People you had loved and cherished for centuries longer than you’ve known him. 

And he is no one but a person you’d go to picnic with on a sunny day.

Despite his raging mind, he kept his mouth shut about your unpleasant servants. He’d bear the pain of every word. He’d even accept lashes and whips if it meant he could sit beside you in your favorite picnic spot another day.

He stays rooted in a field where he does not belong.

That was how much Mydei loves you.

"Alas, it is a sorrow that your visit is swift. Had it been under better circumstances, I would have bid you stay and witness an Epic with me thereafter." You sighed, placing the teacup under your lips. "The young lad, who once struggled to wield a greatsword, now holds the power to lay waste to my very castle at his will. How swiftly the years slip away..."

Mydei’s gaze softened. 

On his frequent idle days, he systematically fit visiting Daidalos in his schedule. This is all in hopes that someday, you’d see him beyond what nostalgia portrays.

Why can’t you see that he obsesses over you the way a man would to his woman?

Frustrating how YOUR visits became less warm and less frequent. Was it custom only that bound the two of you? That cannot be so. You refer to him beyond his station, as he does to you as well. 

Surely, you feel the same beating as he does?

There is no other possibility, is there?

The only thing that stands between you two and the altar must be the crowns you both will and have been carrying. If your people only loved him—- if both your people only cared for one another instead of a constant rivalry for Nikador’s gaze.

"It must be so. As it stands, the folk of Daidalos and Kremnos are far from sharing the civil discourse you and I enjoy." Mydei gently set his cup upon the blanket spread across the verdant earth. "In the quietest recesses of my heart, I wish for a day when my people might share a picnic with yours."

“Do you wish me to crayon a series of plans?” You teased.

“Do not mock me, King (Y/n).”

“The offer for a treaty stands.” You shrugged, your face turned solemn. “That is unless the brutal culture of Kremnos has a better idea of peace?” 

Mydei chuckled.

“How about an abduction?”

“H-Hah—”

His lips claim yours in a fierce, desperate kiss. It's as if a dam has broken, all of his pent-up desire and longing pouring out at once. His calloused hands tighten around its grip, holding you close as he deepens the kiss— his tongue tastes you with the desperation he's not articulate enough to voice. You'll just have to take him as he is. Rogue and animalistic.

You punched his chest. As expected, he didn't falter. Instead, his gaze was tender and his breathing was more… pleased.

“Y-You look ravishing in red.” He smirked. "And to think that bird thought he could please you the way I do."

A husky, ragged moan sneaked out of his lips as he seemingly devoured and shared his heat with yours in unison. No escape. This was far from comfortable. Your back was pinned on the cold Spoliarium walls. You gasped as you felt the subtle and slow motion of his hips grind against your smaller frame. Mydei tilted your head to the side slightly to deepen the kiss.

The worst part? Both your eyes were open, for two reasons on the opposite side of the same spectrum.

He wants to watch his cornered prey, and you're his frozen fawn.

A few years ago, you had shown him mercy in hopes he’d do the same. His eyes were a murderer’s eyes, his hands were a murderer’s arms. But he is without sin. Mydei did not choose to have a murderer’s eyes and hands. And you had refused that he will be treated as such.

You should have.

Just when you felt your eyes fluttering shut at the immediate danger of passing out— the prince graciously pulled away. You saw a sliver of saliva disconnect between both your lips. Almost insane how this had your legs threatening to lay on the floor. The fact that you can barely stand from his intensity boosted a pride greater than a long spar in him. 

Then, the prince hoisted your thighs up and forced them to wrap around him. Your back hasn't had a single moment wherein it hasn't had contact with the wall. Your body hasn't had a single moment wherein you haven't had contact with his warm skin. Your gaze was pathetically unfocused.

“N-Not…” You couldn't help but jest, like old times. “H-How I expected to have my first kiss.”

You felt your spine shiver but had the strength to not make that undirected fear known. Nothing feels right about that place. His Spoliarium was too cold, too dusty, yet his hands were too hot like a forever sun in his palm.

Slowly, he cupped your cheek. Even that loving gesture was rough and intrusive.

Mydei scarcely had a definition for what romance is.

“The fault is your own for expecting gentleness from me.” Mydei brought his lips to your ear. You shivered as he leaned down and nibbled your neck.

Divine. 

You tasted divine. If only you could taste him too, then maybe you'd be more enthused for a “rougher” expression of intimacy. If he could take you now—

You shrank back, terrified. Mydei has been difficult to read on occasion, but tonight his thoughts are blatant and disturbing. You hope your instinct was wrong.

“T-Truth be told, I expect no intimacy from you. I-Is this a—” you panted, weakly gripping his muscular arm. No matter how much willpower you had, you couldn't stand upright. “—form of punishment? I-I wasn't aware Aglaea has e-employed you to guarantee my c-capture.”

“I came of my own volition.” Unbeknownst to you, Mydei’s glare was chilling. “How dare you assume I'd betray you.”

��How dare I, indeed…” You winced. “Why did you come here—”

Unfortunately, the prince was quick to forestall further questions. You helped from the sudden jolt of both pain and pleasure as he bit your neck harshly while he slowly rubbed his hips against you. Mydei was leaving too many marks in his wake. The heat was becoming unbearable.

You gripped a fistful of his hair, hoping to yank him off. “M-Mydei— in Kephale’s name, I command you to—”

“You wanted this.”

He pulled away, and you cursed yourself for feeling almost needy as he created a reasonable distance between you two.

“King— no, MY (Y/n).” Mydei took strands of your hair, kissing it innocently but his eyes were anything but. “I have desired you for too long as well.”

His hand slid under your shirt. You jolted as he squeezed your waist. 

There are times his replies slip so easily that it makes you question their sincerity. This was not one of them.

“I presume with that visage that you’re regularly, at the very least, 3 hours of obliterating sleep.” He pulled your shirt up. “May I know the names of the men who’d find themselves in my Spoliarium soon?”

You almost mentioned Elio in defense of the Hunters, but kept your mouth shut.

“Curse you, Mydeimos.”

He clicked his tongue, snaking his fingers around your neck.

“What dishonorable struggle. I never thought you would have cold feet.” Mydei lightly tightened his grip on your throat. “I offered an abduction, and you agreed.”

“W-What? What abduction?”

Cold feet?

"Reflect further. You possess wisdom far greater than mine."

Your eyebrows furrowed, remembering the conversation. “I only replied because I thought it was said in jest!”

“I am not a man who would jest about entering such a solemn union.” He growled. "You know well that I speak with the full gravity of truth in every word I say."

You paused.

…

Cold feet. Abduction…

Wait…

“Abductions, are they a ritual of sorts…?”

Mydei closed his eyes, huffing in mild amusement.

“...You did not understand that custom, did you?”

“N-No…”

He leaned his face closer, his breath touching your skin.

“Marriage.” His gaze softened. “It is a marriage custom in Kremnos. You have verbally agreed to marry me. And I shall reap what promise is owed to me.”

You felt your energy drain away. A sickening chill.  

Most of your life— it was spent on becoming a perfect ruler. You were chalk honed and clawed with lessons upon lessons upon lessons of strength and wit. Your family did not care if you were even made of a fragile core. But chalk is brittle. Chalk cannot withstand any more of this madness. This lack of human regard. This inhumane treatment. 

You do not love Dei.

You can never bring yourself to love the prince you thought of as a little brother.

“B-But I… I do not…”

“You do not love me. I have heard that lie from you several times.” He kissed your hand. “You have stabbed and buried me several times, yet I will continue to crawl back in your arms.”

Mydei chuckled.

“And tomorrow, we shall have our wedding despite it all.”

He saw how the despair dawned on you. You were shaking. Your breath was shallow and uneven, and he noticed the twitch in your hands, far too unlikely the steadiness of the former warrior King of Daidalos.

No one truly listens to the King.

You are more puppet than king, and everyone revered you for it. You only do what is required of you. What was needed of you. What was desired of you. 

No one truly hears what you wish for yourself. No one cared enough to know you were hungry for the true sensations of what tastes and smells truly are. No one asked you questions as to why you were obsessed with observing nature in the first place. Each person just approaches your throne in hopes they’ll take what they want. No one listens, except for…

This was the part he had anticipated— the fear, the panic, the realization that you were trapped. But instead, you did something... unexpected.

“... Hah… Haha!”

And then, slowly, something twisted inside. The edges of your lips curled upward— at first, just a flicker. You clutched at her chest as though trying to hold yourself together. Your laugh broke free, starting in a soft, broken sound that grew louder, more manic until it was a full-throated, deranged cackle.

Marriage? 

Right.

“Going somewhere?” 

“Lord Elio?”

“Indeed. This is your first time seeing me in this form. And I assure you, this won't be the last.”

“Next time you come back, we'll have a giant feast for your return. No pomegranates. It's a feast that may just be more memorable than your previous birthday celebrations. Truth is, once our prodigal King returns, she shall become a Stellaron Hunter.”

Elio promised you a feast.

Who are you to say no?

You gave him a mugshot smile only a criminal with an enormous bounty would wear.

You were no longer King (Y/n) of Daidalos.

“Is that so?” You grinned wider.

You were (Y/n), the prodigal Stellaron Hunter.

If he haunted your dreams for so long,

you’ll just have to haunt him back.

You harshly grabbed him by his necklace, your breath fanning his face. A giggle escaped your lips at his shocked expression. You swerved and pushed him until your positions switched. With one hand, you clawed both his cheeks, staring at him with an empty glare while the other hand slowly uncloaked him...

"If that is the challenge you present, then I bid you bring forth your utmost strength, dear Husband."

Taglist: @naraven, @macaronilovingracoon, @notthefib987, @chryseis-lxve

Actor!au behind the scenes for this fic: Blooper 1, Interview with Sunday,