#phainon x you

[earthtooz]

x : HAPPY ACCIDENT :*+ﾟ

in which: you let phainon know the consequences of when he doesn't give you any attention.

warnings: 1.2k wc, fluff, phainon is very golden retriever coded in this and of course very down bad, gn!reader, mydei appears, i already said this but like i said, HE IS DOWN BAD.

a/n: the p in phainon stands for puppy or pathetic, or maybe both. btw i haven't played the story quest thumbs up.

You should feel bad about unintentionally conditioning Phainon like an obedient dog- you just didn’t expect him to take it so seriously!

The incident happened less than a week ago, when you walked into the courtyard in search of the Chrysos Heir, and he was exactly where you expected. The resounding, piercing sound of blades colliding was the first tell that the man you wanted to find was indeed there, and the second was when you rounded the corner to find him shirtless and shining with sweat under the gentle sunlight. He had been there for hours already, and as much as you admire his dedication and diligence, you also wonder if he’s been training a little too hard recently, dedicating substantial hours of the day into refining his skills. 

It’s been making you feel lonely. 

The last time you saw him was before noon, and it's been hours since then! You can only entertain yourself by working and reading and managing affairs for so long.

He spots you in his periphery and waves enthusiastically, a gesture you return with a calmer one before you find a marble bench under the shade to sit on. Even if it’s Phainon’s undivided attention you want, watching him spar is still far more exciting than whatever document that sits unread on your desk. 

Half an hour later, Phainon dismisses the soldier he was sparing with, the two of them chattering briefly before the snow-haired approaches you, his muscles flexing with every step he took. 

“Hey, you,” you greet with a smile before standing up, raising your arms over your head to stretch.

“I missed you,” he murmurs before intertwining his arms around your torso, allowing your arms to fall around his neck comfortably. 

“You should bathe,” you say before parting, his skin still hot and sticky with sweat. 

“Do I smell?” 

“Awfully.” 

He frowns at you. “That’s not very nice.” 

“I’m only kidding,” you giggle, “you smell like a bed of fresh roses, just extremely sweaty and… testosterone-filled.” 

“I shall go wash soon, then. Care to join me?” 

“Do you invite everyone to bathe with you, Phainon?” 

“Only the ones I really like, so, please?” He’s pleading at you with those eyes of his, so bright, so innocent, so hard to say no to. 

Well, normally you have a hard time saying no, especially to an offer as tempting as bathing with your lover, but you remember your petty feelings of how he paid more attention to his claymore today, rather than you, so you decide to give him a piece of your mind. It’s what he deserves. 

You hum in exaggerated consideration, even scrunching your nose to make it seem like you were thinking hard, keeping him on his toes. 

“Pretty please?” The hero insists, anticipation shining in those bright orbs. 

“Depends on how well you behave,” you negotiate. “Now, sit down and change your shoes, I’ll get your clothes.” 

He pouts at you, signalling his dissatisfaction. “Alright.” 

You leave to pick up his outerwear from where he discarded it in the courtyard, probably thrown aside when it got too stuffy. Returning to him, the pout is still as present, and he seems to refuse to make eye contact with you, trying to get you to crack.

So, you drop the pile of clothes beside him and counter with a game of your own.

Standing between his legs, both of your hands go to rest on his cheeks, the skin warm and flushed underneath yours. Gently tilting Phainon’s head up, you think you hear his breath hitch as he obeys, looking up at you with those glossy eyes. Gone was the petulance, back was the puppy-dog expression as he stares at you with wonder, and you’re 90% sure that if he had a tail, it’d be vigorously swishing behind him.

He just might be the most simple man you know. Telling him that would only displease him, though, primarily because he doesn’t like it when you talk about other men. 

You giggle softly at the thought as you gently brush stray strands of hair away from his face. 

“I only accompany men who are good to me to the bathhouse,” you muse.

“I’m amazing to you- the best,” he flaunts. “Right?” 

Instead of responding, you slowly lean closer towards him, minimising the gap between your faces. First, you close your eyes when your nose brushes against his, and you keep going until your lips are so painstakingly close that you can feel his graze yours, skin ghosting against skin as you lure him in. Then, just before you can give him what he wants, you draw back, leaving Phainon to chase after a piece of a paradise you won’t grant. 

When he realises that the anticipated kiss wasn’t coming, his eyes slowly blink open. 

“Good boys don’t let their partner feel neglected by training for hours and hours,” you mumble, brushing his hair back before deserting him completely, letting your hands fall back to your sides before cruelly walking away. “You need to learn your lesson, Phainon.”

Still in a daze, he only just registers what you were doing before shooting to his feet. “Hey!” 

Leaving his precious claymore and clothes behind, he chases after your retreating figure.

Effortlessly, the Chrysos Heir catches up and winds his arms around your waist like a tight coil. “Y/n, darling, my light, I’m sorry, you’re right, I have committed a great dishonour today, I will amend it with my life.” 

Humoured, you turn to face him, a melting pot of determination and desperation swirling in those aquamarine eyes. “Well, you do not need to go that far, Deliverer.” 

“So then… a kiss? Or two? Or three? Please?” 

“How about you kiss that claymore instead? Since you spend so much time with it.” 

He whines in your ear, refusing to let you go when you try to slip away by pushing against his very muscular, very sturdy, and very naked chest. 

You spend a good few minutes rejecting his every plea, utterly amused by his growing desperation and how he offered the most preposterous things on Amphoreus for you to forgive him. So you pushed your luck as far as you could before giving Phainon what he wanted, and he breathed you in like air, insisting on wanting more again and again as he pulled you so close you thought you would merge into him.

When you feel his hands roam down your body, tracing your curves and lingering on your hips, you break away before he could get any more carried away.

“Next time you see me while training, you should know what to do, right?” Was all you said that day before moving on, going back to the courtyard to collect his items for him because he was too dazed to do it himself.

Now, you’re left wondering how hard that sentence hit him as Phainon obediently sits down, staring at you with intense eyes that indicated he wanted something from you. He was sparing with Prince Mydei a mere second ago, how did he drop his weapon as soon as you walked in and just… plopped down on the bench like that was the most natural thing in the world? And the other Chrysos Heir just agreed? 

Was there something odd in the air today? Normally these two would spar until there were chips in their weapons.  

Mydei gave you a firm nod in greeting when he walked past and you returned it with a slight bow, still left wondering what on Amphoreus just occurred as you watch his retreating back. 

Until a certain hero clears his throat, causing you to tear your gaze away and at your main source of bewilderment. 

“Did you send Mydei away because… of me?” You ask. 

He nods. 

“Why?” 

“Isn’t that what I’m supposed to do?” 

Your mouth falls slightly agape before the realisation hits. “I… I guess? I was hoping to watch you two spar.” 

He doesn’t respond, doesn’t even blink, only stares you. When you don’t give him what he wants, Phainon impatiently pats his spread thighs and you oblige, stopping before him and letting your hands rest on his face. 

“What am I going to do with you?” You whisper against his lips before sealing the words against his lips.

Well, this was your fault, after all, so you should just do your best to make him happy.

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[anantaru]

⚝ DAY 8 — DOGGY/PRONE BONE

kinktober 2024. — masterlist | ao3

— including. — mydei, anaxa, moze, phainon

— warnings. — fem! reader, doggy/prone bone, cream pie, lots of cum lol, petnames used: angel, baby, princess

⚝ — MYDEI

mydei aches to give you more, to offer you something gentler, something more deserving for his angel— but now, your cunt tightens around him like a vice, and you’ve been nothing short of difficult at that.

always teasing him, pretending to be an utter brat.

still, you let him, let him fuck you as you feign sweet innocence considering the man adored it whenever you were a total asshole to him.

you let his veined hand guide you, back and forth, back and forth over the length of him— his thick, fevered, unrelenting cock snapping the synapses of your brain apart while his mouth ghosts over your spine, hovering a breath more than a kiss on top of your doused flesh.

he fits himself into you like he belongs there, like he's anchoring himself inside the shape of your body when you finally stop resisting and open yourself up to him, filthily moaning his name and savoring his cock pumping deeply through your tight hole.

and fuck, his hands were pressing so hard against your lower back now, with a subtle layer of degradation and longing that felt more like moral surrender than indulgence as you've felt yourself becoming slightly dizzy when he fucks into you with no remorse— smack smack smacks of his thick girth burning through your walls and creating a scorching sensation on your sensitive flesh, truly, mydei makes you see all the stars, all of them, whichever you wished for.

⚝ — ANAXA

"fuck," anaxa stammers— and it was barely beneath a breath, barely hinted with voice, only revealing a slightly desperate tune of wanting more of your warmth surrounding him as he trembles above you when you suddenly fuck and grind your ass back into his cock.

he moves and catches your thrusts half way and it ruins him, sinking into your cunt and rocking his hips as he shivers like he's been touched by something divine and entirely undeserved.

his body wraps around you raw, bare, no barrier between sin and skin, and ugh, it's too much— you're unraveling underneath his body, falling apart in the quietest ways, eyes squeezed shut, jaw slack and fingers digging into the sheets like he needs to hold onto something real before he disappears into you completely.

"so messy princess—fuck, i need you," he moans into your neck as he tightens his grip on your hips, spreading your hole further in order for him to feel how your slick oozes from your pussy and messily splatters all over him, finding true solace in your warm, tight cunt being so pretty n obedient to him.

you're surrounding him with your hotness as his voice cracks every time he feels his cock twitch and turn with his cum dying to shoot into you, just breed and fuck you silly as each syllable of his hefty groans fracture at the edges— and you feel it, all of it, how then at last, waves of pheromones and pleasure wash through your veins and cross around your skin like vines of lust taking you hostage.

⚝ — MOZE

moze fucking you in that position makes him forget about himself entirely as thought he became static— cut off, severed, yes, that's it, as though some inner switch has been thrown off violently, leaving him stranded in the sensation of your warm pussy milking him alone.

what remained was an instinct, raw and ungoverned, a primal rhythm surging through his veins as he moves his body in and out of you without the burden of conscience— shaped in that of mindless hunger.

there was something almost holy, almost monstrous about how he pinned your body down and let you be on your fours, filling you up over and over until you're creamed up from your pussy to the inner sides of your quivering thighs.

moze was whimpering when he hears you wince out his name in sweet, little tunes— and beneath his breath, you can hear them— those small, involuntary whines, rising like something shameful and half-choked, the kind of sounds a man makes when his composure begins to fracture with every heavy pump in your cunt.

continually holding you down with static buzzing rolls of hips when you instantly cry out, cumming all on his cock like the messiest girl, creaming over his twitching dick as moze sinks back inside your hole with no problems.

⚝ — PHAINON

attached to our afterglow, your legs shake and rattle deeply as phainon got you pressed down your stomach with a pillow messily squeezed under your bare ass.

but he's cute about it, you know? brushing over your shivering skin with his lips before applying a wet kiss on the scorching flesh, "missed how you feel," phainon exhales a ragged, trembling breath, his voice breaking into a hoarse, near-incoherent groan— half-formed, making him sound even hotter, as though he has been deprived of air for too long, deprived of your pussy squeezing and battering him up so well.

he's pulling his hips back to watch the mess you made through glimmering eyes, more so to admire your slick and his cum leaking from your pussy before rocking himself back and back and back inside.

your body shudders beneath his touch, feverish and undone as your mind teeters on the brink of an intense delirium— where smart decisions simply crumble, and only the unbearable, inescapable pleasures of him filling you remain.

"seems like my baby missed me too, hm?" phainon mumbles as his cock continuously pumps more and more of his filthy girth until you feel like you're surely on the brink of exploding, yet phainon wants you to feel his seed seeping from your hole into the sheets like a confession too raw to be spoken aloud, only leaving behind a trace— a wet, irreversible mark of who had claimed you that night— as if the fabric itself was a bearing witness to everything neither of you would admit aloud.

©2025 anantaru do not repost, copy, translate, modify, claim as your own

[harmonysanreads]

Phainon never lets you put your hand in the mouths of the Verax Leos. Even if you're confident in your answer to their riddle, he is not going to take the risk of letting you hurt yourself right in front of him. It's not a loss from his side either, since you always fret over whatever minor sting he gets from the bites and he doesn't miss the opportunity to amp up the act in hopes that your attention will linger, even if just for a minute longer.

Your connection to Mydei drives away even the most devout followers of Zagreus from disturbing your peace, a Verax Leo is nothing in comparison to that. Even if you give consecutive wrong answers, none of the Verax Leos will dare clamp down on your hand, unless they fancy finding themselves in pieces the next day. And if the prince himself is present? They'll declare your answer to be correct, even if it very obviously isn't.

Ordinarily, Anaxa wouldn't even allow you to indulge in those scheming lions' subpar riddles, being fully aware of how much of a scam they are. If you really are that eager to burn away your braincells in a whim, he can spin far better riddles for you — just ask of him. But if by some miracle you manage to drag the scholar to the Leo, there'd be no chance of any pain, given how easily he solves whatever is thrown his way.

[raindailies]

❝ — SOLDIER, POET, KING. ❞

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

⟡ “Eros?”

⟡ “The purest.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⟡ Mydei was a prince.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

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

⟡ “How did you–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

⟡ “Ma.”

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

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

⟡ "And?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NOTES:

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

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

[azullumi]

BATHED IN A RED-STAINED GLOW !!

showering them with kisses and leaving lipstick stains, because why not? | featuring: phainon and mydei, established relationship, fluff, not proofread | wc: 0.5k

note — the voices got to me and i wrote this impulsively and i just wanna kiss phainon soo baddd urghhh hes sosososoo

PHAINON, it feels like there are stars in his features, a faint glimmer of light that bleeds on the edges of the rosy smudges painted on his face. delight was an understatement to his current situation—he is utterly glowing, basking like he would under the everlasting light with all of the attention that you are giving him. he could stay like this forever; your hand cupping his cheeks, your lips, painted in a shade of red, pressing all over. “keep going,” he is needy, desperately, and pathetically asking for more despite already showering him with too much, so much that you’re running out of empty spaces for your art; the stains overlapping against one another, darkening in pigment, as you leave a mark on top of the other. you linger in place often, leaving with a faint sound of a smack. the flush of his cheeks hidden by the prints of smudged and fading red, and you start kissing along his jaw, leaving nothing untouched by you. his hands don't know where to place itselves, wandering from your sides to your back, from gripping the front of your shirt to tangling with your hair, until they settle at his sides, clenching and unclenching as it trembles. “i think that’s enough,” you say when you pull back, admiring the messy and flustered state of your kiss-stained lover, and by the amphoreus’ skies, he looks so pretty under this light of pink hues and everything that embodies his being. and while you are enamored by him, he thinks of how you are the testament of the existence of beauty and how you make it utterly divine by the palm of your hands. “no, it’s never enough.”

MYDEI, “aren’t you brash?” he says right after your lips had left his cheek; you had asked him to let you try on this new shade of lipstick you had bought, expecting that you’ll paint the pigment on him outright but was greeted with a kiss instead. however, he doesn’t deny you nor does he even show a hint of detest to the attention he is willingly being given. and so, one kiss turns into two, then turns into three, then turns into the collection that you have left on him. you don’t know how long it has been and when he has pulled you into his lap—he doesn’t make any further moves, just resting his hands on your waist, stroking your sides as you do your careful, intimate work. and when you try to pull away, he only pulls you back in until the tips of your noses touch. “i don’t recall asking you to stop,” is what he whispers with an eyebrow raised which earns a chuckle from you, “greedy,” a mumble with a smile on your face, pressing forward to kiss the side of his mouth. he urges you to continue, spurring you on with the caress of his fingers on your back. you know his words, the whispers of his thoughts, despite not saying anything, but you know it all, and you know he adores you just as the red adores his skin. you think you see another shade dusting his cheeks, you think you see the waver in his gaze, you think you see the affectionate gleam in his eyes, and you think he doesn’t look as intimidating and scary not when your lipstick is smeared across his face.

© AZULLUMI. plagiarism of any form and type, stealing, copying, translating, reposting my works on other platforms is NOT permitted.

[aventoru]

calling hsr chars by their nicknames

w/ mydei, phainon, anaxa (pt.1)

warning(s) : mydei kitty cat agenda lol, anaxa is unhinged, internet slang/brainrot, all jokes tho!!

a/n : the hsr chat hasn't updated phainon/anaxa yet so i had to make my own. also since phainon and anaxa haven't had any texts this might be ooc as well...i'm not even sure if this is funny atp 😭

MYDEI

PHAINON

ANAXA

masterlist

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐕𝐞𝐥𝐯𝐞𝐭 !

⊹.˚🪞🕯️♡ you've managed to snag the man of your dreams and things can't be better. however, having your heart race 24/7 is a borderline inhumane feeling but you would not trade it for the world.

and you know what? neither would he.

yandere! honkai star rail! x yandere! reader. (ana's faves. as per usual.)

˚.🎀༘⋆ 𝐣𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐮𝐚𝐧.

He truly was like a fairytale come to life. How else could one man be so otherworldly handsome?

You would say that to Jing Yuan over and over as you would sit in his pretty garden as the ravishing flowers kept you hidden from any prying eyes. The man would nestle himself comfortably anywhere he could, as long as you had your arms wrapped around him he really did not care for the position he was in.

It was so hard to control yourself. How could you possibly keep your cool around him, especially whenever he would start looking at you with those dreamy eyes? Sometimes in the heat of the moment you would curse him, tell him that it's all his fault for making you feel like this, that he was to blame for slowly turning you into such a bitter person.

The General was incredibly popular on the Lofu, it was only natural for him to have his fair share of fans and admirers. You would force yourself to smile through it all, to grit your teeth as all his adoring fans would sell countless photos of him and you would always try so hard to cling onto his arm whenever you'd spot a camera nearby.

Vultures, the lot of them. If you could have it your way, they would all be tossed into outer space and never be seen again. White hot rage bubbled deep inside your soul at the prospect of anyone thinking themselves good enough to steal him away from you but those people would only meet the sharp end of your wrath.

It was their choice whether or not there would be a peaceful resolution.

However, the moment he placed a soothing hand on your cheek all of that rage would subside to joy. Anger turned to passion, bitterness became sweetness and Jing Yuan could not be more happy at the thought that he had you wrapped around his little finger.

He was a lucky man. He was going to cherish you until his dying breath.

˚.🎀༘⋆ 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐚𝐲.

Soft inklings of delicate candlelight broke through the dark room as you ran your fingers sweetly through Sunday's hair. His head lay still in your lap, face pressed deeply into your thighs as his arms nestled themselves around your body, a silent plea for you to not leave. His grip was tighter than iron as he groaned, the tension in his shoulders melting away like ice in heat.

Whatever was he going to do without you? How could he even live if you were not there by his side?

Such cursed thoughts simply must be banished from his worried mind. For if he were to think too hard about those nightmares, his despair might just swallow him whole.

He could feel your lovesick gaze, a stark contrast to the delicate touch of your fingers as they grazed his scalp. There were times when you would trap him in your embrace and whisper things to him, things that should horrify any sane person. You'd utter your devotion to him like a prayer, chanting endless spells of your bottomless love and devotion and instead of stopping you, he would allow you to speak your mind as his own would simply cease to work.

If there was the option, you'd devour him whole. That way he could never leave you, or so you would like to say.

And the idea of that, it... It was strangely appealing to him. It was the one cage he would never dare to break.

˚.🎀༘⋆ 𝐣𝐢𝐚𝐨𝐪𝐢𝐮.

Soft pink hair dominated your vision as the scent of spices overpowered the rest of your senses, much to the cheeky foxian's delight. You shared a bed with him as his pretty tail wrapped itself around your waist, thwarting any possible escape attempts. With a chuckle you inched closer and pressed your lips on his temple, to which Jiaoqiu hummed in delight.

As per usual, you made no moves to leave.

Good, he thought to himself as his fingernails dug into your flesh, just barely enough so that it doesn't hurt. His tail fluttered with content as birds chirped happily outside the window, the gentle rays of sunlight cascading down on the pair as they reveled in their sweet bliss.

For a brief second, Jiaoqiu could not help but to think of the whispers others would share amongst themselves, how they would judge him and his darling, how twisted and wrong their whole relationship was..

How can something that feels so sweet be so wrong? How can someone who makes him feel alive and loved be disgusting in the eyes of others?

Fools. Each and every one of them. Blind fools who could not see true love even if it hit them square in the jaw.

They were not important, none of them. As long as he had you in his arms, his soul could rest.

˚.🎀༘⋆ 𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐨𝐧.

The crackling flames roared with hunger beside you as you skimmed through the seemingly endless gifts of devotion your dearly beloved seemed to get on a nearly daily basis.

A deep frown etched itself on your red tinted lips as you carelessly threw another letter into the orange fire, not giving a damn about the person who wrote it nor their feelings. Who did they think they were, trying to so carelessly throw their own personal longing onto your beloved Phainon?

Wickedness became second nature to you once you had managed to snag the handsome Chrysos Heir all for yourself. The mere thought of other people wanting him, touching him, looking at him... It made your stomach churn with nausea.

It was all too common for Phainon to receive gifts and words of praise and it was just something one had to grow accustomed to if they planned to stand by his side. But by the stars, the way in which you would burn with jealousy could almost be studied.

You could not allow Phainon to see this side of you.

What would he think of you then? Resting your arms against the messy table you sigh, mind pondering on all of the various scenarios of your lover becoming horrified with this newfound twisted nature of yours... Completely oblivious to the shadow which loomed on the balcony, his body hidden by the massive white pillars as gorgeous blooms came to life.

It was as if they were matching his own personal excitement, their wonderful colours signaling all of his own feelings.

Love, obsession, devotion, need - these were all things that Phainon fought with daily. Sometimes he would grant himself the luxury of indulgence - keeping you in the bath longer with him, making up some excuse on why you should stay in his room, that it's fine if he wants to feed you... He wondered if you went along with it just to keep the peace, to ensure his happiness which was in its own way cute but...

Never in his wildest dreams could Phainon have predicted that you would return his intense feelings. If he could, he would carve out his own heart right then and there and give it to you, the chunk of flesh beating joyfully as he would get on his knees and present it to you with his outstretched, bloodied hands, his lips twisted into a loopy grin.

And he now knew that he would never have to worry ever again. Your love has been secured, your devotion is being kept under lock and key and it was all in the palm of his hand.

I wrote this very, very, very quickly, which I feel as though is super obvious. Still, it was super fun to tackle... Mutual obsession is just such a cute concept, no? And I wasn't feeling too inspired for Jiaoqiu's part, oops. It's just that, I feel like he would be the most "normal" one in this specific scenario, y'know? I also wrote this whole thing backwards for some reason??? Like, I didn't start with Jing, I actually started doing Phainon first.

This little playlist was also lovely to listen to as I was writing. What a wonderful way to spend my rainy Sunday afternoon. Also, I'm half way through the first season of Fruits Basket! It's such a cute little show and I'm watching the 2019 version!!

[degeneratewhores]

I love this trope so much write more tyty

Omg the latest yandere mydei and phainon in the hs au was crazy good! How about a yandere childhood friend phainon but like they got distant after middle school since phainon became the popular kid and maybe reader tried to like not interfere in his life and starts distancing themselves more but also as soon as they start getting along with other unpopular kids he tries/forces to get her back? Plz plz plz

Yandere!Phainon x Fem!Reader

As kids, it was natural, two little shadows following each other, your hand tugging at his sleeve when he got too far ahead, his laugh mingling with yours as you ran through the streets. You had always been by Phainon’s side, you were inseparable.

When you picked up volleyball in elementary school, he followed. At first, it was fun—practicing together, cheering each other on. But then he got better. So much better. While you struggled to keep up, he soared. Every serve he hit was perfect, every spike effortless. Coaches praised him, teammates adored him, and before long, he wasn’t just your Phainon anymore. He belonged to everyone.

It didn’t stop there. No matter what you did, he was always just ahead, just out of reach. His charm made him popular, his skills made him respected. Meanwhile, you felt like a supporting character in his story—someone who would always stand in his shadow.

So, when middle school started, you made a choice.

You distanced yourself.

No more waiting for him after school. No more standing by his side at lunch. No more forcing yourself to smile when people compared you to him.

It was time to find your own place.

But Phainon didn’t let go so easily.

For the first time in years, you weren’t in the same class as Phainon.

It felt strange at first—no familiar presence next to you, no knowing glances exchanged during roll call. But as the days passed, you realized you liked it this way. Without him always next to you, always being the center of attention, you could finally breathe.

You joined the gardening club. It was peaceful, a far cry from the intensity of the volleyball court. The scent of soil and blooming flowers replaced the squeak of sneakers on polished floors. You made new friends—people who knew you as you, not just as Phainon’s childhood friend.

Meanwhile, Phainon remained in volleyball, his name still echoing through the school halls, his presence larger than life. You rarely crossed paths now, and when you did, it was just in passing. A simple nod. A brief hello. No more lingering conversations, no more waiting for each other after school.

But Phainon didn’t take the distance the way you did.

One afternoon, he came looking for you, wanting to talk—to see you, even if just for a moment. But when he found you in the garden, hands dusted with soil, you weren’t alone. You were smiling, laughing with your new friends, completely absorbed in a world that didn’t include him.

You barely even noticed him standing there.

---

High school.

You had worked so hard to get into this school—one that was far away, a fresh start where no one knew you as Phainon’s childhood friend.

The relief you felt on your first morning was overwhelming. No familiar eyes watching your every move, no whispers comparing you to him. Just you, finally on your own.

But then, in the middle of the crowded hallway, a presence prickled at the back of your neck. It was familiar—too familiar.

You turned your head, and there he was.

He shouldn’t be here. He wasn’t supposed to be here.

For a while, he didn’t approach you. Not in front of everyone. But later, when the hallways were quieter, when there were fewer eyes around, he stepped closer with a smile like nothing had changed.

“Hey” he said, as if he hadn’t just shattered your newfound freedom.

“Why?” Your voice was sharp, furious. “How did you even—?”

“I still talk to your parents,” he said simply. “They love to brag about their precious daughter.”

You didn’t say a word to him after that.

And more importantly, you didn’t mention anything to your parents. If Phainon was getting his information from them, the last thing you wanted was to give him more.

Strangely, the next few days were peaceful. He didn’t try to talk to you again, didn’t linger in the hallways, didn’t hover at the edge of your vision. It was almost as if he wasn’t there at all.

You let yourself relax. You made some new friends, settled into your classes, and finally started to feel like maybe this new school could really be yours.

But peace never lasted long with Phainon.

In the canteen one afternoon, as you walked with your tray, one of your new friends accidentally bumped into someone—hard. A gasp, the sound of food splattering, and then silence.

Phainon stood there, his uniform stained, his hands clenched into fists. His jaw tightened as he looked down at your friend, who stammered an apology. The tension in the air was suffocating, his usual easygoing smile nowhere to be found. His fingers twitched, his body coiled like he was about to—

“Didn’t take you for a bully, Phainon.”

Your voice cut through the moment like a blade.

His head snapped up, his cold gaze meeting yours.

“Y/n, you know I'm not that kind of person.” he murmured.

Crisis averted—for now.

Phainon had only grown more popular over the years. His looks, his charm, his skills—everything about him seemed untouchable. People flocked to him, admired him, wanted to be close to him.

You wanted the opposite.

But Phainon never let you have what you wanted.

One afternoon, when you were alone in the hallway, he cornered you. His arm blocked your escape, his presence overwhelming.

“Why are you avoiding me?”

“Because I need space. Because I—” You exhaled sharply. “Because being around you feels like drowning.”

Before he could reply, voices echoed from down the hall. A group of students was approaching, laughing and chatting.

Panic flared in your chest. If they saw you two like this—if they started whispering—

You pushed against him, trying to slip away, but he didn’t budge. “If you’re avoiding me, then I’ll just let them talk.”

“Phainon, don’t.”

He tilted his head, pretending to think about it. Then, suddenly, he leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a stolen kiss.

The students passed by, glancing curiously at the scene—Phainon and a girl, too close, too intimate. You saw their eyes widen, their whispers start.

Phainon smirked. “If you don’t want rumors, I’ll make you a deal,” he murmured, just for you to hear. “Be my girlfriend, and I’ll rethink it.”

“…Fine”

His hand finally dropped from the wall, letting you go.

But the feeling of his lips against yours lingered, and you knew—this wasn’t over.

At school, you acted like Phainon didn’t exist.

You ignored him in the halls, never met his gaze, never spoke his name. To everyone else, you were just another student, separate from his world. It was the only way you could keep yourself sane.

But outside of school, it was different.

Phainon made sure of that.

Secret dates, he called them—quiet meetings away from prying eyes. At first, they were simple. Walks through dimly lit streets, sitting together in tucked-away cafés, moments where he talked and you listened, pretending this was normal.

But soon, it wasn’t enough for him.

His hand would linger too long on your wrist, he’d pull you close, arms wrapping around you under the excuse of warmth. He started demanding more—holding hands, leaning into you, resting his head against your shoulder as if staking a claim.

Then came the kisses.

You tried to protest, but Phainon never took "no" well.

The first time he tried, you turned your head away, and his lips barely grazed your cheek. You thought that would be enough—that he would stop if you showed resistance.

You were wrong.

The next time, he didn’t give you the chance to turn away. His fingers caught your chin, holding you in place, and his lips pressed against yours with a quiet sigh of satisfaction.

“You agreed to be my girlfriend,” he murmured when you stiffened. “So act like it.”

You tried to set boundaries, but Phainon never truly listened. If you flinched away from his touch, he’d laugh it off and try again. If you avoided his kisses, he’d corner you somewhere quieter, somewhere you couldn’t escape.

Whenever you resisted, he never snapped, never forced you outright. He just waited.

Because you always gave in.

And then, slowly, he started demanding more.

His hands would drift lower when he held you, fingers brushing against places they shouldn’t. His grip would tighten when you tried to pull away, his voice laced with quiet amusement as he whispered, What’s wrong? I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I?

The worst part was how natural he made it seem—And the more you resisted, the more he reminded you of the deal.

You agreed to be mine.

You’re the one who said yes.

So don’t act like you don’t want this.

Each time he said it, it became harder to argue.

----

Phainon was never late.

You checked your phone again, making sure you hadn’t misread the time. No, it was correct. He should have been here by now. The longer you stood outside the mall, the more uneasy you felt.

A group of men showed up, their gazes unsettling. At first, you tried ignoring them, stepping away when they moved too near, but they didn’t take the hint. One of them grinned, saying something you didn’t bother to listen to.

“I’m waiting for someone.”

“So?” One of them reached out, fingers grazing your wrist. “He’s not here, is he?”

Before you could pull away, something struck him—hard.

A bouquet of roses slammed into his face, petals flying.

The man stumbled back, cursing, as Phainon stood there. His grip tightened on the ruined bouquet before he swung it again, hitting another man’s shoulder with enough force to make him stagger.

The group ran.

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. Phainon stood still, watching them disappear, his jaw clenched. The bouquet—once carefully arranged—was now a mess, stems broken, petals torn. His fingers were scraped and red from gripping it too hard.

“You’re hurt.”

He blinked at you, like he hadn’t noticed.

Sighing, you reached into your bag and pulled out a small bandage pack. Phainon didn’t protest as you took his hand, carefully wrapping the wounds.

But as you worked, you felt his gaze on you.

And then, his lips curled into a smile.

“Thank you” he murmured, so soft you almost didn’t hear it.

You weren’t in the mood to go anywhere after what happened. Your nerves were still on edge, and the last thing you wanted was to be in a crowded place. Phainon must have noticed, because instead of dragging you somewhere, he simply started walking. And, without a word, you followed.

For a while, neither of you spoke. The streets were quiet, and the night air was cool against your skin. Eventually, though, Phainon broke the silence.

“You remember when we used to race home after school?”

You glanced at him, surprised by the sudden shift in conversation. “…Yeah.”

“You always thought you could outrun me.”

You rolled your eyes. “I almost did. A few times.”

“I let you think that.”

That earned him a glare, but his expression was light—teasing, almost nostalgic. It was strange, talking like this. For a moment, it almost felt normal. Like the past few years of distance and tension never happened.

Then everything shattered.

A group of students turned the corner ahead of you, chatting loudly—until they spotted Phainon.

“Oh my God, is that—?!”

His fans. The same group that followed him around at school, always eager for his attention. Their eyes widened when they saw him, then darted toward you.

For a split second, you considered stepping away, pretending you were just coincidentally walking beside him.

But Phainon had other plans.

Before you could react, his arm slid around your waist, pulling you against him.

“Ah, hey,” he greeted the group, completely unfazed. “Didn’t expect to run into you all.”

Their gazes flickered between the two of you, stunned. “Who’s…?” one of them started.

Phainon’s grip on you tightened just slightly.

“My girlfriend.”

There it was—merciless and undeniable.

The students’ expressions ranged from shock to disappointment, their excitement dimming into stunned silence. Whispers started almost immediately.

You swallowed hard, resisting the urge to shove him away. You knew better. If you tried to deny it, if you acted like this wasn’t real, he’d only make it worse.

So you forced a smile and prayed they’d leave soon.

You didn’t go to school the next day. You told yourself it was just exhaustion, that the weight of everything had finally caught up to you. But deep down, you knew the real reason. You couldn’t face Phainon. Not after what happened.

The doorbell rang in the afternoon. You didn’t think much of it—until you heard your mother’s cheerful voice.

“Oh, Phainon! What a surprise! It’s been so long—come in, come in!”

You barely had time to react before you heard his familiar voice, smooth and polite as always. “Thank you, I was worried when she didn’t come to school today.”

You shot up from your bed, heart pounding. He wouldn’t.

But he did.

Your bedroom door creaked open, and there he was.

“Skipping school?” he mused, stepping inside like he belonged there. “That’s not like you.”

You rushed to the door, reaching for the handle. “You need to leave—”

Before you could pull it open, Phainon slammed it shut.

The force made you stumble, but before you could turn, his arms wrapped around you from behind, pressing you against the door. His warmth caged you in, his breath brushing against your ear.

“You’re avoiding me.”

You stiffened. “Phainon—”

“I don’t like that.”

“Don’t forget,” he murmured, his lips dangerously close to your skin. “You’re mine. And if you ever think about running from me again…”

“…There will be consequences.”

A knock on the door made you freeze.

“Sweetie? I brought you something to drink” your mother’s voice called out.

Phainon’s arms were still wrapped around you, his presence suffocating. He leaned in just slightly, his lips barely brushing your ear as he whispered, “If you don’t listen to me, I wonder what would happen if your mom walked in right now.”

Shame and fury boiled in your chest, but you had no choice. Slowly, you turned to face him, your hands balling into fists at your sides. Rage burned in your eyes, tears stinging at the edges.

Phainon’s expression softened—mockingly so. He reached out, swiping his thumb under your eye, catching a tear before it could fall.

“Now, now,” he murmured, “you should answer her before she gets suspicious.”

You swallowed hard and forced your voice to stay steady. “I’m fine, Mom. Just—just leave it by the door.”

There was a brief pause. Then, “Alright, dear. Let me know if you need anything.”

Her footsteps faded down the hall.

Relief barely had time to settle before Phainon’s grip on you remained firm.

“I’ll open the door,” he said, voice deceptively sweet. “But first…” His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Kiss me.”

The seconds stretched unbearably long. But you knew there was no other way.

So you did.

You forced yourself onto your toes, pressing a quick, hollow kiss against his lips. It was over in an instant.

The sound of the lock clicking open was the only thing that let you breathe again.

Phainon stepped back, watching you with satisfaction as he finally let you go.

“See?” he mused. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You didn’t answer. You just turned away, gripping the doorknob so tightly your knuckles turned white.

You didn’t look back as you left the room. But you could still feel his gaze on you, as if he was already planning his next move.

The next few hours were suffocating in a different way.

Phainon barely gave you space to breathe, sticking close as you went over the lessons he had missed. He was smart—he always had been—but even he had gaps to fill after being away for a volleyball match.

Normally, you wouldn’t have minded helping. But with the way he sat so close, his arm occasionally brushing yours, his gaze heavy on you instead of the notebook, it was impossible to focus.

Just as you were pointing out a formula, his hand suddenly moved—tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You flinched, your pen slipping from your fingers.

Phainon only chuckled. “Relax. You’re so tense.”

You clenched your jaw, forcing yourself to go back to the lesson. He didn’t make it easy. A sudden squeeze on your thigh. A finger tracing over your wrist. Subtle, fleeting touches that made you hyper-aware of his presence.

It was a game to him.

And when it was finally time to go home, he made sure to have the last move.

“Couples kiss goodbye, don’t they?” he mused, standing too close as you reached for the door.

“Phainon—”

He tilted his head, expectant.

You knew there was no arguing. No refusing. Not without consequences.

So, with gritted teeth, you leaned in. A quick kiss—just like before. That’s what you planned.

But Phainon had other ideas.

The moment your lips touched his, he deepened the kiss, his hand slipping to the back of your head to hold you in place.

It lasted longer than you expected—longer than you could handle.

Your lungs screamed for air, your fingers trembling against his chest as you weakly pushed against him. He finally let go, but not before brushing his lips against yours one last time, as if savoring the moment.

You gasped, your breath shaky.

Phainon, on the other hand, looked perfectly composed.

“See you tomorrow!”

He was certain, and you weren’t going to escape. Not now. Not ever.

[ariichive]

POPULAR

he didn’t realize how many people yearned for you as much as he did. and now that he had, the thought sat heavy in his chest, unsettling in a way he didn’t quite know how to handle.

cw: gender neutral, fluff, lighthearted, jealousy, slight stalking, reader has a lot of fans, secret admirers, established relationships, creepy letter in phainon's part

in okhema, there’s an npc named myrion who has a bunch of admirers lined up for her, so this inspired me lmaoo! once again, mydei's is my favorite... love writing for him

mydei₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

when you and mydei had gone on a casual stroll through okhema, he wasn't expecting to discover how well-known you were around the city.

verax leo was a mouthy lion, one that overheard many conversations in its time in the holy city.

you, wanting to stop by and see if the lion had any new riddles, were not expecting for the verax to use this as an opportunity to tease the prince of kremnos.

"the beautiful muse of the mighty prince, [name]! an honor to see you! here for another riddle?"

mydei’s brow arched ever so slightly at the greeting, golden eyes flickering between you and verax leo with a quiet intensity.

“beautiful?” he echoed, tilting his head in that slow, calculating way of his.

you sighed, already sensing where this was going. “don’t start.”

verax leo let out a deep, rumbling chuckle. “oh? have i struck a nerve, mighty prince? or perhaps… have i simply voiced what many already whisper?”

mydei's perfect brow furrowed even deeper, "explain, annoying lion, what you mean by that."

verax leo, suddenly sensing the thick tension, voice wavered as he responded. "w-well, i would not live up to my name if i didn't put this in the form of a riddle!"

mydei didn't answer, only narrowing his eyes at the golden mount. "in the city of okhema, there are many beautiful antiques and valuables. often sought after. but, there's one that's unattainable, and can only be spoken of in whispers my lion ears can hear."

you blinked, glancing between mydei and verax leo, sensing the shift in the atmosphere.

mydei’s expression remained unreadable, his golden eyes sharp as they bore into the lion. “go on.”

verax leo let out a nervous chuckle, but continued nonetheless. “this treasure is admired by all, longed for by many, yet it rests in the hands of one who walks among us.” the lion paused before continuing. “and oh, how the city wonders… will the one who holds it keep their grasp, or will another dare to reach?”

mydei let the silence stretch between them, his expression unreadable. then, with slow precision, he turned to you.

“is that true?” his voice was softer now, but laced with something deeper—something possessive.

you rolled your eyes, a hint of amusement in your voice. “it’s just a riddle, mydei. you don’t actually think—”

“but it is true,” he interrupted smoothly, gaze never leaving yours. “you are sought after. spoken of in whispers. desired. it would be foolish if people didn't see your beauty.”

you swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the weight of his attention. “mydei—”

he exhaled, then, a slow, quiet breath, before looking back at verax leo. “and tell me, lion, what happens to those who reach for the unattainable?”

verax leo hesitated before answering, voice lower this time. “they risk being burned.”

a small smirk ghosted across mydei’s lips, though there was no humor in it—only certainty. “then let them whisper.”

and with that, he took your hand, lacing his fingers with yours before leading you away from the lion’s watchful gaze, leaving nothing else to be said.

as you walked through the streets of okhema, the whispers verax spoke of suddenly felt louder—eyes flickering toward you, smiles offered, murmurs shared between passersby. you had never thought much of it before, but now, with mydei at your side, his grip firm around your hand, it was impossible to ignore.

“you’re really letting that riddle get to you, huh?” you finally said, glancing at him.

mydei didn’t answer immediately. instead, his golden eyes stayed forward, scanning the streets, his expression unreadable. when he finally spoke.

“it isn’t the riddle that bothers me,” he said. “it’s the fact that it isn’t just a riddle.”

you sighed for the hundredth time. “it's—”

“how many?” he asked suddenly.

you blinked. “...how many what?”

his gaze flickered to yours, sharp and calculating. “how many people have whispered about you? how many have longed for something they will never have?”

heat crept up your neck, but you scoffed, shaking your head. “do you hear yourself right now?”

“i hear the city.” his thumb brushed over your knuckles absentmindedly. “and i hear verax leo. neither of them are wrong.”

you stopped walking, tugging his hand to make him face you fully. “and? does it matter?”

his jaw tightened for the briefest moment before he exhaled, as if weighing his words. “no,” he said. then, softer, more certain: “not when the whispers mean nothing to you.”

your breath hitched, but before you could respond, he lifted your joined hands, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to your fingers.

“let them whisper,” he repeated, gaze locked onto yours. “as long as they know who you belong to.”

you gave his hand a small squeeze before pulling him forward. “come on, prince of kremnos. we’ve wasted enough time indulging a silly lion.”

he let you pull him along, but his grip remained firm, unwavering. “hm. i suppose. though, next time, i may indulge verax leo myself.”

you raised a brow. “oh?”

his golden eyes glimmered. “yes. i’d like to hear what else the city whispers—so i know exactly what to silence.”

you snorted, shaking your head. “unbelievable.”

but as the two of you walked away, hand in hand, the city’s whispers no longer mattered. after all, there was no need for speculation when the truth was already clear—mydei had already won the prize they all longed for. and he had no intention of ever letting go.

phainon₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

phainon was a man that took pride in his relationship with you, always taking the initiative to show you off. he knew you were gorgeous, and was extremely lucky to have you before anyone else.

he'd often hear praise of your name throughout okhema, be it the older lady that worked the market or a young kid.

but there was an extent to how much he could take, especially when it became borderline crazy.

phainon, call him petty, often discarded the various love letters that were made for you. he would read through them and laugh at their contents. these men knew nothing about you, and it almost made him feel bad.

almost.

there was no room in his heart for men that overstepped many boundaries; and the letter in his hand was a prime example of this.

'Dear [Name],

you have caught my attention, which is an honor not many can achieve. I see the way you interact with the people of the Holy City, but I cannot help but be curious; when will it be my turn? To see your beautiful eyes gaze at me? Must I do something extravagant? I watch you, the way your eyes light up when the infamous Chrysos Heir greets you. Tell me, is it that simple? There's no way you're impressed by his-'

phainon stopped reading the letter there, irritation already seeping deep into his veins. not only was the letter addressed to his quarters, but now he had the nerve to diss him?

phainon was so lost in thought, he didn't notice you enter the bedroom.

you tilted your head, watching him with mild curiosity. it wasn’t often that he was this distracted, his fingers curled tightly around a piece of parchment, blue eyes narrowed in what could only be irritation.

"what's wrong?" you asked, stepping closer.

phainon blinked, finally registering your presence. his expression smoothed almost instantly, slipping into something more composed—too composed.

"nothing of importance," he said, rolling the letter between his fingers before tossing it onto the desk. "just another fool with more confidence than sense."

your gaze flickered to the discarded parchment. "another love letter?"

he exhaled, crossing his arms. "unfortunately."

curious, you reached for the letter. phainon's hand twitched as if debating whether to snatch it away, but he let you take it. as you scanned its contents, amusement tugged at your lips—until you got further down.

"just a creep," you muttered, throwing the letter somewhere of no importance.

"perhaps i should respond," he mused. "it would be a shame if our dear admirer thought their words went unread."

"phainon."

"oh, come now, you should know me well enough by now." his grin was all mischief and indulgence. "i wouldn't be cruel. i'd simply... clarify a few things."

"by 'clarify,' you mean gloat."

"semantics."

you sighed again, running a hand down your face. "you're crazy."

"and yet," he echoed, mirth dancing in his voice, "people still test me."

he leaned in then, voice a quiet hum against your ear. "but if you truly wish for me to ignore them, all you have to do is say so. you know i'm weak for your word."

"i'm well aware," you giggled softly which made his cheeks warm in delight.

"though i do wonder, would a ring around your finger put an end to this cruelty?" he put a hand over his heart in faux pain. though he was teasing, you couldn't help but notice the truth in his words.

"only one way to find out."

anaxa₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

you were perfect, it was a fact any being with senses knew. more importantly, you were his perfect assistant. always there to assist him when he was busy with a student or to find his favorite pen.

it was these little things that mattered most to him, and he made sure your help never went unrecognized.

you watched anaxa busy himself helping his students with their research, the stack of thesis' on his desk going unlooked at.

"anaxa," your voice sweetly cut through the academic chatter of the classroom.

“i assume you’re here to remind me of some terribly dull obligation? my neglected paperwork, perhaps?”

you crossed your arms, unimpressed. “i was going to suggest taking a break, but clearly, your self-awareness is intact.”

his smirk deepened as he placed his hands on his hips. “why, of course. i am nothing if not entirely conscious of my own habits—though I do wonder how I managed before you.”

“poorly,” you deadpanned. “misplaced notes, forgotten meals, and a truly tragic reliance on last-minute efforts.”

he hummed in response, glancing at his student who wouldn't stop looking at you.

"i can help your students, you should use this time to look at the tablets and papers on your desk."

anaxa tilted his head, regarding you with an expression that was equal parts amusement and something more inscrutable. “how generous of you,” he murmured, fingers idly tapping against the untouched stack of work. “but tell me, dear, are you implying that my guidance is somehow… lacking?”

his tone was smooth, laced with that ever-present air of self-assuredness, but you knew him well enough to catch the teasing edge beneath it.

you merely raised a brow. “i’m implying that your penchant for procrastination is as legendary as your intellect. i don't wish to wake from slumber to you scribbling and muttering to yourself. ”

he exhaled a dramatic sigh, finally deigning to glance at the tablets and papers before him. “so cruel, yet so efficient,” he mused. “very well, if only to spare you the tragedy of watching me scramble at the last moment.”

anaxa retreated to his paperwork, leaving you with the student he was previously helping. you glanced down at his report, seeing unique sketches of chimeras.

"oh!" you exclaimed in excitement, leaning over the scholar's shoulder. "chimeras, i know a decent amount about them. i used to frequent the garden of life," before meeting anaxa, you wanted to add on, knowing he hated whenever you mentioned okhema.

the student perked up at your enthusiasm, eyes wide with curiosity. “you’ve been to the garden of life?” he asked, glancing between you and his sketches. “i’ve only read about it in records. is it true that some of the creatures there can work for hours?”

you nodded, a faint smile tugging at your lips. “some can, yes. their adaptability is remarkable, and they are super friendly!”

watching the student scribble things down, you continued. "even though they have a small and cute appearance, chimeras are very intelligent, understanding human speech despite not speaking it themselves."

anaxa smiled gently as he overheard your conversation, finding comfort in your voice. until he overheard another, more annoying conversation.

"[name] really is smart, no wonder professor keeps her to himself."

"yeah, it's a shame, if i had someone like [name]-"

anaxa stood up abruptly from his desk, the chair making a loud screech against the floor.

the sudden noise startled both you and the student, cutting your conversation short. you turned to see anaxa standing with an air of composed irritation, his pretty eyes sharp as they swept over the room.

“fascinating,” he drawled, his voice carrying just enough bite to make the offending students stiffen. “i wasn’t aware my assistant’s intelligence was up for public discussion—nor that any of you had the credentials to make such evaluations.”

a tense silence fell over the room. the scholars in question looked away, suddenly engrossed in their own work.

anaxa hummed, satisfied, before adjusting his cuffs with deliberate elegance. “i’d suggest you redirect your academic curiosity to something more productive. unless, of course, you believe gossip will earn you a place in my lectures?”

you sighed, rubbing your temples. this wasn’t the first time anaxa had taken offense on your behalf, though his methods were as dramatic as ever.

“professor,” you said, voice edged with both exasperation and amusement, “i believe your paperwork still requires your attention."

he hummed, completely ignoring you.

as he returned to his desk, you exhaled, shaking your head before refocusing on the student’s report.

still, you could feel anaxa’s gaze lingering—not on his paperwork or the students, but on you.

“professor,” you murmured without looking up, “if you’re going to stare at me all afternoon, at least pretend to be grading.”

[earthtooz]

sharing little phainon brainrots as a birthday gift to myself

phainon is the type of lover who wants you to consume all of him. he wants to melt on your skin, sink through your pores, and stay coursing through your veins so that every breathe you take, every blink of your eye, every twitch of your finger- he will be there to witness it.

along with the insatiable need to be in the crevices of your heart and mind every second of the day, comes with the lack of personal space.

he is in your space at every given opportunity, a hand on any part he can touch, body pressed against your side, back, front, the lingering warmth of his looming, protective figure is something of second nature by now. and when you turn to see the perpetrator of the gentle touch ghosting along your back, dancing and tracing the line of your spine, sending goosebumps down your skin, you'll be sure to see a very innocent phainon, who has a slight smile gracing his lips. then, he'll tilt his head to the left, as if asking if anything was wrong.

with him, there is no sense of 'going too far'.

he will buy out the local flower shop's stock for you, he would throw himself into the throes of a corrupt titan if you so wanted him to, he would lick the debris and dirt off your skin like a woeful puppy because he could not protect you from nikador's attacks.

after he returned home that night, laborious trial finally completed and coreflame within the hands of the chrysos heirs, he treated you as though you were made of glass despite the fact it was his body that was one step away from collapsing. fatigue clung to the bags under his eyes, his hands shook from the intensity of the battle, and he is not so unscathed himself yet he looked at you as if you were a wounded animal, eyes glossy and filled with emotion.

"i'm fine," you would try to reassure, but the furrow in his brows never did smooth over.

"so you keep saying." he murmurs, "but i'm not."

"of course you're not, you just defeated nikador-"

"that's not what i'm talking about," his interruption is gentle, it comes in the form of a large, warm hand wrapping around yours, grip tight and unrelenting, as if he was still trying to confirm you were with him. "you're hurt, and i couldn't do anything about it. you may claim to be okay, but i'm not, because i was not good enough to stop your pain."

"phainon-"

"-it is my duty to protect everything that is dear to me. i failed." he places a ghost of a kiss on the back of your hand, lingering there as his shoulders shake, revealing the true nature of his anxieties.

his grip that night is especially tight, never letting you stray too far while consoling him, demanding and vying for your attention. he eventually rests after hearing your voice drone on and on in his ear. it was the kind of incessant reassurance that he needed as he curled around you, his large, muscular figure acting like a shield from the outside world as he held you close.

his guiding light, his tether to reality, you hold so much power over him that you don't even realise you have, and if he manages to anger you, phainon crawls on his knees for your forgiveness. time heals, and he knows he needs to give you space so you can work through your emotions, but he's convinced he'll wither away to nothing unless you can look him in the eye again.

he's impatient, especially when it comes to you, he needs to know that you still love him, needs to know that you still want him, that you won't leave him with a permanent hole in his chest, and needs to know it all now. time heals, they say, but every second away from you is a dagger to his bleeding heart.

"y/n, your favourite fruits are here, we should buy some!" phainon suggests from behind you. "oh, and there are apples too, we should make apple pie, i've been really craving them recently, we can even give some to the others!"

he's rattling off in your ear about sharing a portion of the desserts with his fellow chrysos heirs, how tribbie, trianne, and tribios would love them, how mydei would scoff at his efforts but take it nonetheless, and something about lady agalea that you don't hear entirely.

because you're trying really hard not to snap at him with the snarky remark that's sitting on the tip of your tongue.

and it's worse because you know that he's aware of how upset you are, how you are still sensitive from the disagreement you had in private not too long ago, how you need space to think, a space where phainon can't intrude and talk your ear off.

but he is doing this- staying close to you, metaphorically and physically pressing in on your personal space because he needs your reassurance and validation. you know he's doing it out of love, so you're trying really hard to keep a level head so as to not explode, but he is just too insistent, too overwhelming, too everywhere.

"let me pay," phainon gives the right amount to the storeowner, and he takes the bags before you can even reach for them. "i'll carry them, too!"

"phainon," you murmur softly because you're afraid your voice will crack, yet, he hears it, spine straightening a little under your command. "i... i need some time. alone. sorry."

you don't see it, but his expression morphs into something unbearably upset, his bright blue eyes dulling and larger-than-life presence shrinking as he lets out a small sound of agreement, helplessly watching you walk away from him. a part of him hopes that you'll turn around and take it back, running back to him and his fragile heart that needs you. that feels like it's going to combust in his ribcage unless phainon runs after you and does everything he can to get you to forgive him.

the grief exuding off phainon is practically tangible, mixed with an immense sense of yearning as his heavy footsteps take him back home. he becomes a shell of who he is, even as people- young and old, women and men alike, come to talk to their favourite hero. his smile never reaches his eyes, the chipper tone of his voice diminished a little as his eyes helplessly scan everywhere for you, hoping just to catch a glimpse.

so until he can feel your hands on his face again, thumb caressing his cheek, he will feel uneasy, his stomach will churn, his chest feels like it will cave in, and his heart misses you so much it might as well jump out through his mouth and run to you instead.

sat on a chaise with his head in his hands, the door to his private quarters pushes open, and he feels hope zap him alive, ears and eyes anticipating any indication that you were finally, finally home.

"phainon?" his back immediately straightens at the call of his name, and without even a second thought, he scrambles up to see you at the entrance, almost knocking everything over at the prospect of being able to exist in your orbit again. he wants to see you, wants to be near you so sadness won't paralyse his being.

seeing you is like a breath of fresh air after fighting in the ruins of castrum kremnos.

"y/n, my light, i'll apologise a thousand times over, i'll fight thanatos if you wanted me to if it means you'll forgive-"

"-i forgive you." suddenly, his words get lodged in his throat, ears attuned to every word you have to say to him. "you were doing what you thought was best, i appreciate it, i appreciate your love and care for me, phainon."

pure bliss courses through his veins, and it warms him from the inside out, the light slowly returning to his eyes as a big, bright smile pulls at his lips.

happiness looks good on him, but you don't get to savour his expression before he pulls you flush against him, even lifting you into the air with his arms around your waist.

"i love you," he whispers against your neck as he holds you up effortlessly. "i would do anything for you."

"you're already everything, i don't need anything else. although... maybe try not to make decisions for me without asking first, because then we can avoid problems like this."

he nods enthusiastically, white hair tickling your neck, causing you to laugh, the sound healing all the cracks of sorrow in his heart.

"your wish is my command, anything for you."

"and maybe... put me down, please?"

© EARTHTOOZ 2025, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site.

[devdozes]

i adore your last fanfic it was silly lmao😭, can you also imagine them having all sleepover and phainon keep on teasing mydei to always put his head on the reader’s legs to sleep and teasing mydei cause he know damn well mydei couldn’t ask such a thing so he get pissed to that gesture

I HOPE YOU LIKE THIS AND RHIS IS WHAT U EXPECTED :D

The soft glow of the living room lamps cast a warm ambiance over the small, cozy space. Blankets and pillows were strewn across the floor, a few leftover snacks from your movie marathon scattered nearby. The three of you—Phainon, Mydei, and you—had somehow ended up having a sleepover, though it was mostly Phainon’s idea. Mydei, true to his grumpy nature, grumbled about it at first, but he stayed anyway.

Phainon stretched lazily, yawning dramatically before flopping down onto the makeshift bedding. Without hesitation, he plopped his head directly onto your lap, sighing in satisfaction as if this was the most natural thing in the world.

“Ahh, perfect,” he murmured, nuzzling slightly into the fabric of your pajamas. “Your lap is the best pillow, y’know? So comfy~”

You chuckled, used to his antics by now, and absentmindedly ran your fingers through his messy white hair. “You say that every time,” you teased.

Phainon cracked open an eye, smirking. “That’s ‘cause it’s true. Unlike someone, I’m not afraid to admit what I want.” His gaze flickered to Mydei.

Mydei, who had been sitting cross-legged a few feet away, stiffened. His golden eyes narrowed, sharp like a blade, but his ears—traitorously flushed red—gave away his internal conflict.

“Tch.” He looked away, folding his arms. “You’re being annoying again.”

Phainon just grinned wider.

“Oh? Am I? Or are you just mad because you wanna do this too but can’t bring yourself to ask?” His voice was teasing, lighthearted, but the underlying challenge was very, very real.

Your eyes flickered to Mydei curiously, watching the way his jaw tensed. He looked like he wanted to say something, wanted to act, but his pride—or maybe embarrassment—held him back. You could practically hear the gears grinding in his head.

Phainon, ever the instigator, stretched again and snuggled even closer into your lap, tilting his head just enough to make direct eye contact with Mydei. His smirk was downright smug. “Mmm~ So nice. I might just sleep like this all night.”

Mydei let out a sharp exhale, clearly trying very hard not to react.

“…You’re doing this on purpose,” he muttered, voice rough.

Phainon didn’t even try to deny it. “Of course I am.”

Your fingers stilled in Phainon’s hair as you looked over at Mydei. He wasn’t meeting your eyes, his brows furrowed in frustration, but it wasn’t the usual kind. It wasn’t anger—it was something softer, more hesitant.

“Mydei,” you said, voice gentle. “Do you want to—?”

“No.” The word came out fast, defensive. Too defensive.

Phainon let out a dramatic sigh. “See? He wants to but refuses to say it.” Then, with an exaggerated groan, he rolled onto his back, still using your lap as a pillow, and stretched his arms over his head.

“You’re impossible,” Mydei muttered.

“And you’re predictable,” Phainon shot back, smirking. “Maybe next time, instead of sulking, you should just say what you want, Mydei~”

You watched Mydei’s hands twitch slightly, like he was debating something. And for a moment, you thought he might actually give in. But then he clicked his tongue and turned over, his back now facing you both.

“Just go to sleep.”

Phainon’s snicker was the last thing heard before the room fell into a comfortable silence.

But as you continued absentmindedly running your fingers through Phainon’s hair, you caught the way Mydei’s hand curled slightly near his chest—as if he was holding himself back from reaching out.

Phainon, naturally, wasn’t done poking the bear.

Even with his eyes closed, he smirked and sighed contentedly, snuggling even further into your lap. His breath was warm against your stomach, and you could feel the deliberate weight of his presence as he shifted just enough to make sure Mydei noticed.

“Ahh~ this is the life,” he murmured dramatically. “A soft lap, a gentle touch… Mydei, my dear friend, you wouldn’t get it.”

A vein visibly twitched on Mydei’s forehead.

“I swear,” Mydei muttered, voice tight, “if you keep running your mouth—”

“What? You gonna throw me off her lap?” Phainon peeked one eye open, grinning like he just won a game Mydei wasn’t even playing. “That’d be awfully rude, don’t you think?”

Mydei tensed, his golden eyes glinting dangerously, but the slight pink dusting his ears betrayed him.

You sighed, amused at their antics. “You guys do this every time,” you mumbled, still absentmindedly stroking Phainon’s hair. “Why don’t you just—”

“No.” Mydei cut you off immediately.

Phainon snickered. “See? He’s hopeless.”

Mydei shot him a glare, jaw tight. You could see it—the fight between his pride and his desire. His fingers curled slightly, like he wanted to grab something, but his stubborn nature wouldn’t let him take that step.

Phainon, still basking in victory, tilted his head just enough to rest against your stomach. His silver hair brushed against your skin, and his next words came out in a low, taunting murmur.

“Y’know, if you don’t do something, Mydei, I might just—”

That was it.

Before Phainon could finish, Mydei grabbed the back of his hoodie and yanked him off your lap.

“—ACK—!” Phainon barely had time to react before he found himself unceremoniously tossed onto the blankets beside you.

Mydei, still scowling, sat up and planted himself right beside you. He didn’t meet your gaze, and he sure as hell didn’t ask for anything, but his presence alone spoke volumes.

Phainon groaned dramatically. “Wow. So violent.”

You chuckled, watching Mydei’s stiff posture. “Mydei,” you hummed, tilting your head. “Did you want to—”

“No.” His response was immediate, but he still didn’t move away.

Phainon, rubbing the back of his head, smirked. “Denial looks great on you, buddy.”

You swore you saw Mydei’s eye twitch.

But despite his grumbles, despite his glaring inability to ask for what he wanted, Mydei stayed right next to you. Close enough that the warmth of his shoulder brushed against yours. Close enough that, if you shifted just a little, you’d feel the subtle tension in his posture.

He wouldn’t say it. But he wanted to.

A few minutes passed, and just when you thought things were settling down, Phainon suddenly sat up, his eyes gleaming mischievously. "You know what? We should settle this. Right now."

Mydei sighed, already tired of whatever nonsense Phainon was about to pull. "Settle what, exactly?"

Phainon grinned. "Who’s the better choice to sleep next to you, of course."

You blinked. "Hi, so what the fuck?i"

"I refuse to participate in this." Mydei deadpanned, glaring at Phainon.

Phainon ignored him. "First challenge! Who can stay awake the longest while cuddling you?"

You groaned. "Phainon, that’s not—"

"Shhh, we’re already starting," Phainon interrupted, dramatically throwing himself onto your side and wrapping his arms around you like a human octopus. "I’m never letting go, Mydei."

Mydei’s eye twitched. "You’re such an idiot."

"Correction: a competitive idiot." Phainon grinned. "C’mon, Mydei, unless you’re scared you’ll lose?"

A muscle in Mydei’s jaw twitched. Oh, that did it.

With an exasperated sigh, Mydei grumbled something under his breath before pulling you toward him instead, his grip firm yet hesitant. His face was turned away, but his ears were burning red.

Phainon snickered. "Oh-ho? Look who finally made a move!"

You sighed, caught between two ridiculous, overgrown children competing for your affection. "You two are unbelievable."

Phainon winked. "Unbelievably in love with you?"

Mydei groaned. "I’m actually going to kill him."

As if things couldn’t get more ridiculous, Phainon suddenly gasped dramatically and sat up. "Wait. We forgot the most important part of a sleepover."

You raised an eyebrow. "And that is?"

"A blanket fort competition."

Mydei looked at him, deadpan. "You’re actually five years old."

Phainon smirked. "Oh? What’s wrong? Scared you’ll lose?"

That was all it took. Mydei’s competitive nature flared instantly.

Within minutes, both men were scrambling to grab pillows, blankets, and whatever household items they could use for structural support. You, caught in the middle of their madness, simply watched as they transformed the living room into a battlefield.

Phainon’s fort was a chaotic mess, but it was ridiculously decorated. He strung up fairy lights inside, piled in an excessive amount of pillows, and even found some glow-in-the-dark stickers to add to the "aesthetic."

Mydei, on the other hand, took a tactical approach. His fort was sturdy, well-structured, and honestly looked impressive—like he had studied the mechanics of fort-building beforehand. He even lined the inside with snacks and a perfectly arranged seating area.

When they were done, both turned to you, expectantly.

"So?" Phainon grinned. "Which fort do you like better?"

Mydei crossed his arms, golden eyes watching you. "Be honest."

You looked between them, two grown men who had just spent an hour fighting over blankets and pillows, all for your attention.

And honestly? It was adorable.

You simply smiled. "I think... I’ll just sleep in both."

Cue immediate protests from both sides.

The next morning, war broke out in your kitchen.

You had barely woken up when you found yourself in the middle of an unexpected cooking showdown between Mydei and Phainon.

“I bet she’d like my pancakes better,” Phainon declared, cracking an egg into a bowl with practiced ease. “Light, fluffy, with just the right amount of sweetness.”

Mydei scoffed, arms crossed as he leaned against the counter. “Tch. She doesn’t need sugary nonsense first thing in the morning. I’ll make her a proper breakfast.”

“Ohhh?” Phainon grinned, whisking the batter. “What, you gonna make one of your ‘nutritious, balanced meals’? Boring.”

“You’ll thank me when you’re not crashing from a sugar high an hour later,” Mydei shot back, already moving to prepare something more savory—omelets, freshly toasted bread, and sliced fruit on the side. His movements were sharp, precise, the kind that came from experience.

You sat at the table, still groggy, watching the two bicker as they cooked. “Uh… I can just eat whatever—”

“No.” They both shot you a look at the same time.

You blinked. “…Okay.”

Phainon playfully nudged Mydei’s shoulder as he flipped a pancake. “You seem really into this, Mydei. Don’t tell me you’re trying to impress her?”

Mydei’s movements stuttered for just a second before he gritted his teeth. “Shut up and focus on your own mess.”

Phainon snickered, clearly enjoying himself, before turning to you. “Hey, sweetheart, you wanna be my taste tester? I promise my pancakes are better.”

Before you could answer, Mydei placed a perfectly plated omelet in front of you. “Eat this first,” he said firmly.

Phainon gasped dramatically. “Excuse me?! She hasn’t even tried mine yet!”

You sighed, looking between the two ridiculously competitive men. “…What if I just eat both?”

Mydei and Phainon exchanged glances.

“…Fine,” Mydei muttered, looking away.

Phainon grinned. “That’s fair. But mine’s still gonna be your favorite~”

As you took a bite of Mydei’s omelet first, you noticed him watching you way too closely, his sharp golden eyes scanning your face for any reaction. And when you hummed in approval, the faintest hint of a smug smirk tugged at the corner of his lips.

Phainon, seeing this, quickly slid a pancake onto your plate. “Okay, okay, but try mine now. You’ll love it.”

You did. And it was amazing.

Phainon beamed when you told him so, shooting Mydei a triumphant look. Mydei just clicked his tongue, muttering something under his breath, but you could tell he was still secretly pleased you enjoyed his cooking too.

And thus, the ridiculous cooking war ended in a tie.

And both of them asked for a kiss on the cheek as a reward

[duskvsdawn]

a masterpiece?! hello?!

𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐘 , 𝐟𝐭. 𝒫ℋ𝒜ℐ𝒩𝒪𝒩 ＆ ℳ𝒴𝒟ℰℐ

★ tws : nsfw/smut, pregnant fem!reader, implied modern au, fingering, vaginal sex, breeding kink, daddy kink, pregnancy kink, poly relationship (mydei x reader x phainon), slight size kink, dubious aftercare & slight degradation. (mdni)

It started with sore tits and a missed cycle.

Then a positive test. Then two.

Now you were nearly four months along—belly starting to curve out, nipples darkening, body heavier and softer in all the ways Mydei and Phainon loved. You barely had to lift a finger anymore. Mydei was always at your side, watching you like he was ready to fight gravity itself if it made you stumble. Phainon cooked for you, massaged your ankles, talked to your stomach like the baby could already hear him.

“You look so pretty pregnant, honey,” Mydei murmured one morning, pressing up behind you as you stood at the mirror. His hands slid under your nightshirt, warm palms cupping the heavy swell of your tits. “Your body’s glowing. I wanna touch you all the time.”

“She needs rest,” Phainon said from the bed, though his eyes were dark and hungry, tracing every curve of your form. “But if you want to spoil her a little before her nap…”

Mydei nuzzled into your neck, voice sweet and rough. “Can I, baby? Just a little? Promise I’ll be gentle…”

You whimpered, the way you always did when he got like this—sweet voice, filthy hands. “Alright fine…” He helped you out of the nightshirt like you were made of silk, careful with every movement. Phainon joined you both, one hand cradling your tummy like it was holy.

“Look at you,” Phainon whispered, his lips trailing over the curve of your belly. “Carrying so well. So warm and full.”

Mydei was already between your legs, kissing the inside of your thighs, his fingers slipping past your folds with ease. “You’re always wet now,” he moaned. “Your body wants us.”

“Of course she does,” Phainon muttered, kissing your lips, slow and deep. “She was made for this. For being ours. For taking our cum.”

You didn’t even try to answer. You just moaned and let Mydei push his cock inside you, slow, careful, but deep enough to stretch you open around the thickness you’d grown so used to. His breath stuttered against your chest as he rutted into you.

Phainon stayed behind you, whispering filth into your ear, hands everywhere—stroking your clit, cradling your bump, tweaking your nipples. “You’re such a good little thing,” he breathed. “Letting us fuck you while you’re full of our baby.”

Mydei was losing control fast—hips stuttering, eyes locked on the way your breasts bounced with every thrust. “I’m gonna cum,” he gasped. “Fuck—I’m gonna fill you again. Stuff you full, even if you’re already carrying.”

“That’s fine,” Phainon purred. “She can take it. She loves it.”

And gods, you did.

Mydei was still buried deep inside you, his cock twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm. He hadn’t pulled out. He never did now. Not since the test came back positive.

“Stay in me,” you breathed, your voice small and needy, your hand resting over your bump. “Don’t wanna be empty.”

“Mmhh—fuck,” Mydei whimpered against your skin, trembling just slightly as he kissed along your collarbone. “You’re already full, baby… so warm in there. You make me lose my mind.”

“She likes being full,” Phainon said with a low, dangerous little hum as he knelt beside you on the bed. He reached between your legs, two fingers brushing against where Mydei was still seated inside you, lazily pressing just enough to make your pussy flutter and grip tighter around his cock. “Don’t you, (name)? You like it when we fuck you slow, keep our cum in you. Feels safe, huh?”

You nodded helplessly, moaning as Phainon teased your swollen clit with practiced, gentle pressure. “S-so safe. S’good…ngh…daddy…”

That word had both of them groaning.

Mydei pressed his hips forward again, even though he was overstimulated—cock hardening again inside you. “She said it,” he panted. “She called me daddy—fuck, Phainon, she’s gonna milk me dry.”

“She should,” Phainon said, kissing your lips sweetly, then tugging your bottom lip between his teeth. “She’s carrying our baby. She deserves to be spoiled. Filled. Loved.”

Phainon shifted down, licking slowly over your breasts, sucking at your sensitive nipples.

You cried out softly, your body already on edge. Mydei began moving again, slow, grinding thrusts that dragged delicious friction right where you needed it.

“Phainon,” you whimpered, voice breaking, “s’too much…”

“You can take it,” he whispered. “You always do.”

Mydei groaned, burying his face in your neck. “Gonna fuck you full again. Gonna keep you pregnant forever.”

And Phainon just smirked against your skin, his voice low and possessive.

“She’s not just pregnant,” he murmured. “She’s ours. And we’re never letting her go.”

© 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!

[harmonysanreads]

I NEED MORE PUPPY PHAINON, imagine that his beloved was offended by him, and he literally walks on his knees after her, asking for forgiveness, lol

Can be read as a continuation to this piece.

Phainon has become more partial to hating silence in his recent years.

It wasn't always this way though and in certain conditions, he finds himself craving a particular flavor of silence. But in the other, majority of cases, that deafening vacancy of noise reminds him of memories he’d rather forget. To placate that discomfort, he embellishes the void with sound no matter how small, or with his own voice.

Still, the ache is manageable, not voracious enough to make him dramatically restless. Where this faint modicum of control fails as well is when you, in all your cruelty, cast that curse of silence upon him as a direct consequence of anger.

In the name of the Titans, he prays you’d scream at him, hit him couple of times, destroy his house and belongings — anything, anything besides this nonverbal torture he can withstand. But he's not one to dwell in unfair complaints. Especially when your downturn gaze, pressed lips and crossed arms affirm so loudly that he's messed up.

By now, he’s exhausted almost every tactic in his arsenal to get you to acknowledge him again — apologizing, pinching his ears, making funny faces, wrestling a titankin and two whole repeats of that cycle. But you didn't let this opportunity go to waste in showcasing how good you’ve gotten in keeping a blank face in truly tumultuous situations, much to his chagrin in this instance.

It's only when you, most likely fed up with his antics, started to walk away that he scrambled to try again.

“My sun, my moon, my star, my light — please, please please please, look at me? Just once?” you're halted by a tug at your sleeve. A twinge of something softens your resolve as you realize how Phainon remembered, wrestling with his desires to not touch you until he's earned it again.

You can feel the weight of his eyes on your back, you pray that he didn't notice you waver. You steel yourself and stubbornly keep the act steadfast, conflicted before dropping the charade in favor of melting into his arms and forgetting altogether. But you can't, you’ve already promised to wring the confession on the errors of his ways this time.

You glare at the splinters in the earth, “Haven’t I told you once? If you keep calling me things that will never be yours, I might just become the same.” it takes everything to keep your voice even.

You don't need to look to picture Phainon's sure dumbfounded blinks, the churning and turning of metaphorical cogs as they shift in his head, neurons firing and synapses piecing together the implication of your cold comment.

You make the mistake of expecting only a gust of wind and are hit instead with a fully powered storm, in the form of a dull thud that you recognize as the hero’s knees hitting the ground when you're forced to spin as his arms find refuge in clinging to your thighs.

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry — I am so SO sorry. I promise I won't do it again, I swear on the Flame-Chase — no, I swear on Aedes Elysiae that I will never do it again! If I do, may I face a fate worse than death itself. Just… just please, forgive me.”

There's an ache in your heart, sudden, quick and flighty. Kephale's light cradles you both, the corners of Phainon's eyes shine with something. By instinct, you try to escape the painful grasp of the hero, try to. Stumbling a few steps in what you intended would create space, resulting in Phainon getting dragged alongside your movements — sans a care in the Deliverer’s countenance.

“Phainon, I'm going to fall if you don't —” you try to bargain and fall, you do.

One ghost of a touch against the pavement is all you recall, so faint it can be disregarded completely. Your gasp gets muffled in something soft and firm, a mix of the perfume you recognize as yours and something else too convoluted to remember in the heat of the moment canopies your senses.

When the brief storm settles, a sigh slips past your lips. You don't even need to look up to know where you ended up landing.

But an insistent grasp angles your gaze against your wishes upward, you don't offer further resistance as pity grips your heart, “My dearest, beloved, my love, honeycakes with whipped cream on top, my life… won't you show me mercy?”

You calmly maintain Phainon's gaze, searching his face for any trace of dishonesty. The glossy blues of atonement prompts you to be petty one last time, “You don't care much about your life though.”

At this, Phainon completely deflates, collapsing in your arms. “Oh come on! Will you just say yes?”

At the faintest chime of the giggle you fail to quieten, he burrows further in the crook of your neck, arms coiling with a force you're no stranger to by now. Phainon shifts to adjust your position on his lap and changes tactics at the last moment, seizing your momentary lack of guard to launch an aimless attack of kisses.

You can only thank the barren side of Okhema city you two had chosen now, you do not want to think of what you’d have to do to get him off of you had this been a crowded place. The agony that came with the thirty something minutes of deprivation Phainon tolerated is much prominent, a burn lingers around your cheeks and neck. He refrains from completely leaning towards your lips though, still mindful that you haven't yet affirmed in words.

“Okay okay! You're forgiven, good heavens.” you heave, Phainon's exclamation of joy gets lodged in his throat prematurely, “But, you'll be sleeping on the couch today.”

You regret uttering that almost instantly, it's as if every particle of the hero’s life force has been drained mercilessly, appearing as though he might really cry this time.

You avert your eyes, forcing a sigh, “Ah, well, nevermind. You can sleep next to me — but I'll still be keeping a pillow barrier in the middle! Don't forget I'm still… still mad at you.”

As if on cue, Phainon springs back to life once more. Perhaps it's just your enervated eyes, but apparitions of what you can only assume to be puppy ears flick to and fro on top of his head. Caught in a trance, you reach out to ruffle those snow-white tresses and your lover melts.

You know your imposed punishment won’t last for more than ten minutes into the slumber and you’ll be coaxed with these antics again and again. But for this moment, you suppose it won't hurt to allow yourself to indulge and believe, that everything is okay.

[jebunkle]

sleepy time with chrysos heirs heh, gn!reader, written before finishing 3.0 ahaaa

imagine aglaea sitting on her velvet sofa, threading her nimble fingers through your scalp, combing through your hair. her loving gaze is locked on your restful face, a look of pure admiration. she lifts one of her hands to slide over your cheek, circling the pad of her thumb over your soft skin.

as you slowly stir from her gentle caresses, she whispers a soft command to you. “my dear,” she looks into your barely opened eyes, “return to your slumber. i am right here.” her sultry voice flows through your ears, placing what seems to be a sleepy spell over you. your hand reaches up to graze aglaea's, her jade colored eyes soften at your tired touch.

think of the airy chuckle that phainon emits after accidentally waking you up for the third time. he can't help how ethereally peaceful you look while asleep, he can't help the way his hands automatically drift to cup your face, and he can't help how his stomach does flips by just looking at you. the early dawn shines through the curtains of you and phainon's abode, signaling that it was now morning and there was work to be completed;

despite this, phainon didn't have the heart to shake you awake. he knew that there were duties for both you and him to carry out, but isn't it so much nicer to lay at home with his sweetheart? “go back to sleep, love.”

mydei's typical intense gaze is abnormally gentle as he stares at you. the rhythmic rise and fall of your chest against his torso is practically a lullaby to him, yet he can't fall into slumber, due to the fact that he'd rather die again then pry his eyes from your tranquil form.

why can't he seem to rest normally when with you?

instead of his answer coming as he ponders, he hears the slightest mumble from you. mydei immediately glares at your face, searching for a hint of awakeness, but finds himself to be oddly relieved when he sums it up as sleep talking. hesitantly, he brings his hand to your back, massaging soft patterns into the skin. “what're you doing to me?” he mutters in a false annoyance.

thank u @/enchanthings-a & @/hyuneskkami for the dividers :p

if you enjoyed this, like/reblog so i know if i should make more!!! experimenting rn

[myderis]

savior ꒱ phainon 'n fem reader ᰔ fluff ⊹ word count 0.5k

"Quick, hide me!" you were in a total panic running to PHAINON using him like a human shield as your hands found a place on his back, gently tugging his cape. Although he didn't have time to react, he knew you were in big trouble if you were looking for him. "What is it this time, my lady? You stole another scroll, rode a droma unsupervised, scammed someone, or—?"

"Where is she?" you panicked even more hearing the voice of none other than Mydei and his footsteps that could tear the ground apart, and maybe even your dignity. "Where's who?" Phainon's calm voice carried just enough to sound believable. He didn’t flinch as the prince’s towering frame loomed closer, his eyes blazing like twin suns. The Deliverer shrugged slightly, ensuring his broad frame blocked you from sight as you pressed closer to his back, your heart pounding like a war drum.

"You know exactly who I’m talking about," Mydei growled. His tone was edged with frustration, and you could almost feel his glare cutting through the space between them. "She drank all of my pomegranate juice. Do you have any idea how long I waited for the harvest? Where is she?" At those words, your stomach twisted with guilt and fear. You hadn’t meant to drink all of it… but it was just so good.

Phainon tilted his head, considering. "Pomegranate juice, you say? That’s tragic. But alas, I’m afraid I haven’t seen her.” leaning casually against a pillar as if Mydei’s wrath was the least of his worries. "Perhaps she’s taken to the market? Or gone to annoy someone else?" 

Mydei hesitated, uncertain whether to believe Phainon or keep pressing him for answers. After a long, tense pause, he sighed, not wanting to bother himself anymore.

"Fine. If you see her, tell her to face me like an adult," You shot your savior a silent, desperate thank-you from behind his back. He subtly shifted, blocking you further from view. Mydei narrowed his eyes, clearly not buying it, but after a moment, he huffed, muttering something about “finding her eventually” before storming off.

As soon as he was gone, you stepped out from behind Phainon. "I owe you my life," you said dramatically, your heart still racing. "Or at least my dignity."

Turning to you, an eyebrow raised in amusement. "You owe me more than that, I think. But we’ll start with the truth—what did you do?"

You hesitated, then confessed, "I… drank all of Mydei’s pomegranate juice. I was thirsty! And it was just sitting there, looking—"

"Delicious?" Phainon finished, smirking. "You’re lucky I’m good at lying."

"Lucky doesn’t even cover it. I don’t know how to thank you," you admitted, a gentle smile appearing on your face and Phainon crossed his arms, his smirk widening. "I can think of one way."

Your stomach did a little flip. "Do you want to go out on a date?"

He chuckled, blue eyes shining with adoration, "I was going to suggest you replace the juice, but now that you mention it… I won’t say no."

You flushed, but you couldn’t help but laugh. "It’s settled then,"

"At least for now, my lady," he teased, making you wonder how draining Mydei’s pomegranate juice wasn’t the worst decision you’d made after all.

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

[xichilie]

Phainon x (fem)reader

Phainon is crushing, and Y/N is oblivious XD

🤭🫶🏻

_______________________________________

Okhema City was a marvel of elegance and energy, its golden towers glowing under a soft, perpetual light. The streets hummed with the sounds of music and conversation as people moved through the grand plazas and intricate skybridges. Laughter drifted from bustling vendors, and faint trails of sweet, spiced aromas filled the air.

Phainon walked beside you, exuding what could only be described as dramatic confidence. His regal coat swished behind him, the embroidered gold and blue threads catching the light with every exaggerated step he took. He kept glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, trying to appear casual but failing miserably.

You, however, were entirely oblivious to his nervous antics. Your gaze was fixed on the city around you, marveling at the sheer beauty of the architecture and the lively atmosphere. “This place is amazing,” you said, a smile tugging at your lips as you looked up at the softly glowing arches above. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Yeah, it’s... something,” Phainon replied, his voice a little too eager. “But, uh, I could show you the really amazing parts. I know all the best spots.”

“Like what?” you asked, genuinely curious.

“Oh, uh...” Phainon faltered, his confidence slipping under the weight of your direct attention. “Like, um, this fountain right over there! It’s super... historic?” He pointed toward a glowing marble fountain that you were already walking toward, his enthusiasm betraying the fact that he hadn’t actually thought this through.

Trailing behind you were Phainon’s companions: Tribbie, a small girl with fiery red hair and vibrant blue eyes who seemed incapable of standing still, and Mydei, tall and intimidating with his untamed blonde-and-red hair and an aura of perpetual irritation.

Tribbie grinned as she jogged to keep up with you two. “He means he wants to show you off,” she whispered conspiratorially to Mydei, giggling. “Look at him! He’s been tripping over himself the whole time!”

“I noticed,” Mydei muttered, crossing his arms as he followed. “Not like he’s being subtle.”

Phainon overheard them and whipped around. “I am being subtle!” he hissed, his face red.

“Sure you are,” Mydei deadpanned, not even bothering to hide his smirk.

“Don’t listen to him,” Tribbie said, skipping up to Phainon’s side. “You’re doing great! Well, except for the part where you keep blushing every time Y/N looks at you. But other than that, perfect.”

“Tribbie, please!” Phainon groaned, glancing nervously at you to see if you’d noticed their conversation. Fortunately—or unfortunately—you were completely engrossed in admiring the intricate carvings on the fountain.

“It’s okay!” Tribbie whispered loudly. “Y/N’s totally clueless. You’ve got time to pull it together!”

“I don’t need to pull anything together!” Phainon snapped, though the panic in his voice betrayed him.

“What are you two whispering about back there?” you asked, glancing over your shoulder.

“Oh, nothing!” Tribbie said with a grin, skipping back to walk beside you. “Phainon was just telling us how much he loves—uh—fountains! Right, Phainon?”

Phainon coughed, his cheeks still pink. “Yes. Fountains. Very majestic.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, but didn’t press the matter, much to his obvious relief.

Tribbie, however, was far from done. “So, Y/N,” she said, clasping her hands behind her back and tilting her head in a way that could only be described as way too innocent, “what do you think of Phainon? Pretty cool, huh?”

You blinked at her, caught off guard by the sudden question. “Uh... sure. He’s great.”

Tribbie gasped dramatically, spinning to face Phainon. “Did you hear that? Y/N thinks you’re great!”

Phainon’s eyes widened, his face turning an alarming shade of red. “She didn’t mean it like that!” he said, his voice cracking slightly.

“I mean,” you said, looking between them with a confused smile, “you are great. You’re a good leader, and you’re... fun to be around. Why wouldn’t I think that?”

Phainon opened his mouth, then closed it, his brain clearly short-circuiting. “I—uh—thank you?” he managed weakly.

Tribbie clapped her hands together. “Oh, this is too good. Mydei, isn’t this great?”

“Yeah,” Mydei said, rolling his eyes. “If by ‘great’ you mean ‘painful to watch.’”

“Okay, that’s enough out of both of you,” Phainon said, his tone equal parts exasperated and mortified. He took a deep breath, trying to regain some semblance of composure. “Y/N, do you want to see the market district? It’s a lot livelier than this part of the city.”

You nodded, still oblivious to his obvious fluster. “That sounds fun.”

As you all made your way toward the bustling marketplace, Tribbie leaned closer to Mydei, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “You know,” she whispered, “we should help him out. Like, nudge things along a bit.”

Mydei gave her a flat look. “Or we could let him suffer. That’s been entertaining enough.”

Tribbie stifled a giggle as she looked up at Phainon, who was now awkwardly trying to match your pace without looking like he was trying too hard. “He’s so hopeless,” she whispered.

“I can hear you,” Phainon muttered without turning around.

“Good!” Tribbie chirped. “Maybe it’ll inspire you to actually do something about it!”

Phainon groaned, his face in his hands as he walked. You, meanwhile, simply admired the sights, blissfully unaware of the chaotic energy simmering between your companions.

By the time you reached the market district, the air was alive with music and the scent of freshly baked bread. Phainon, for all his flustered awkwardness, managed to walk beside you with his usual confidence—though his companions’ constant teasing kept his nerves simmering just beneath the surface.

For Phainon, it was a miracle you hadn’t picked up on his obvious feelings. For Tribbie, it was her favorite ongoing drama. And for Mydei, well, it was just another day in Okhema City.

The market district was a riot of colors and sounds, with stalls overflowing with intricate wares: handwoven fabrics, shimmering jewelry, and jars filled with glowing powders that seemed to hum faintly with energy. Street performers danced and spun glowing ribbons in the air, while vendors called out their prices, each trying to outshine the next.

You walked ahead, drawn to a stall filled with delicate glass ornaments that sparkled in the warm light. Phainon hovered a step behind, trying to look relaxed but still stealing glances at you.

“You know,” you said, turning a small, intricately carved pendant over in your hands, “this place is so vibrant. I feel like I could spend days here and still not see everything.”

Phainon took a deep breath, willing himself to act natural. “If you wanted, I could show you around tomorrow. Or, you know, whenever you’re free.”

Tribbie appeared out of nowhere, practically popping up between you two. “Ohhh, a private tour? How romantic!”

Phainon choked on his own breath, quickly covering it with a cough. “Tribbie, not now!”

“What? I think it’s sweet!” she said with an exaggerated pout, blue eyes wide with mock innocence.

You blinked at her, clearly confused. “I mean, it’d be nice to have a guide,” you said, glancing at Phainon with a smile. “You know a lot about this place, don’t you?”

Phainon’s heart skipped a beat at your words, but before he could reply, Mydei strode up, carrying a skewer of grilled meat and giving the group his usual deadpan stare. “What’s going on now? Is Tribbie making it weird again?”

“She’s trying,” Phainon muttered under his breath.

“I’m helping,” Tribbie said brightly. She grabbed Phainon’s arm and gave him an encouraging shake. “Go on, tell Y/N about how you’re practically an expert on Okhema City!”

“Uh, well,” Phainon stammered, clearly thrown off by the sudden pressure. He rubbed the back of his neck and tried to pull himself together. “I’ve spent a lot of time here, so I guess you could say I know it pretty well.”

“You guess?” Tribbie teased, nudging him with her elbow. “Come on, sell yourself! Tell them about that time you saved that merchant from bandits!”

Phainon groaned, his face turning red. “Tribbie, that’s not relevant—”

“Wait, you did that?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Well, yeah,” Phainon admitted sheepishly. “But it’s not a big deal or anything.”

“Not a big deal?” Tribbie gasped, placing a hand dramatically over her heart. “Y/N, did you know he fought off three bandits at once? With nothing but his sword and his sheer determination!”

Mydei snorted, taking a bite of his skewer. “Don’t forget the part where he tripped over a crate halfway through.”

“Hey!” Phainon snapped, glaring at him. “That crate was in a bad spot!”

“Sure it was,” Mydei said dryly, smirking.

You couldn’t help but laugh at their banter, the sound drawing Phainon’s attention back to you. His flustered frustration melted into a soft smile as he watched you, his companions’ teasing momentarily forgotten.

“Still,” you said, glancing at Phainon, “that’s impressive. You’re braver than I thought.”

“Brave?” Tribbie repeated with a grin. “He’s practically a hero! You should see him during training—he’s always going on about protecting people and doing the right thing.”

“Tribbie,” Phainon groaned, his face buried in his hands.

“What? I’m just saying you’d make a great knight in shining armor!”

“You mean a dramatic idiot,” Mydei muttered, earning a glare from Phainon.

“You’re not wrong,” you said with a playful smile, making Phainon freeze in place.

“W-wait, what?” he stammered.

“Nothing,” you replied innocently, already turning back to the glass ornaments on display.

Tribbie leaned toward Phainon, whispering loudly enough for everyone to hear. “She totally likes you.”

Phainon let out an exasperated groan. “Tribbie, stop!”

“Or,” Mydei said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, “you could just tell them how you feel instead of embarrassing yourself all day.”

“I’m not embarrassing myself!” Phainon protested, though his flushed face suggested otherwise.

“You kinda are,” Tribbie chimed in with a grin.

“You know what?” Phainon said, throwing his hands in the air. “I’m just going to go buy something. For Y/N.”

Tribbie gasped. “Oh my gosh, are you getting them a gift?!”

“It’s not a gift!” he said quickly, already heading toward a nearby stall selling small, carved figurines. “It’s... uh... a gesture of friendship!”

You raised an eyebrow as you watched him stride off, clearly flustered. “What’s he doing?”

“Something dumb,” Mydei muttered around a bite of his skewer.

Tribbie clapped her hands together, practically bouncing on her heels. “Oh, this is the best day ever.”

As Phainon returned with a small, delicate figurine of a bird carved from white stone, his nervous smile made you tilt your head in curiosity.

“For you,” he said, holding it out. “I saw it and thought... well, it reminded me of you. I mean—not in a weird way! Just... it’s graceful. And unique. And, um...”

“Thank you,” you said, cutting him off before he spiraled completely. You took the figurine, turning it over in your hands with a smile. “It’s beautiful.”

Phainon’s shoulders sagged with relief, though Tribbie immediately burst into applause.

“He did it!” she said, grinning at Mydei. “He actually did something right!”

Mydei just shook his head. “Don’t encourage him.”

You laughed again, the sound filling the air like music. Phainon smiled, his heart swelling despite his companions’ relentless teasing. Maybe you hadn’t caught on to his feelings yet—but moments like this gave him hope.

For now, walking beside you through the glowing streets of Okhema City was more than enough.

As you passed through the busy market, your eyes caught sight of two familiar figures ahead—Dan Heng and Trailblazer.

“Hey, Y/N!” Trailblazer’s voice called out, a mischievous grin spreading across their face as they waved toward you.

"Hey!" you called back, a bright smile spreading across your face. Without missing a beat, you waved back and started making your way toward them.

Behind you, Phainon straightened up at the sound of their names, his steps growing a little stiffer. Tribbie noticed immediately and nudged Mydei.

“Looks like Phainon’s acting all nervous again,” she whispered, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief. “He’s got that look.”

Mydei grunted. “He’s not fooling anyone. Especially not Y/N.”

Phainon pretended he hadn’t heard them, but his cheeks were just a little flushed as he joined you, Tribbie, and Mydei in greeting Dan Heng and Trailblazer.

“So, what brings you two here?” you asked as you approached.

Dan Heng nodded with a small smile. “We were checking out the local sights. Thought we’d catch up with you and see how things were going.”

Trailblazer grinned, their eyes flicking over to Phainon before returning to you. “Well, it looks like Phainon’s been keeping you entertained.”

Phainon stiffened at the sudden attention, his white hair swaying lightly as he gave a small nod. “I’ve only been showing Y/N around. It’s nothing special.” His voice was a little too casual, and his gaze flickered away nervously, though no one commented on it—except for Tribbie.

“Nothing special?” Tribbie shot a glance at Phainon, her voice full of playful innocence. “Phainon’s so modest. He’s been the perfect tour guide—especially when he bought Y/N a gift earlier. So thoughtful!”

Phainon’s face went crimson. “I—Tribbie, please.” He looked around desperately as if hoping for a distraction, but everyone was watching him now.

You blinked, completely unaware of the undercurrent of tension. “Yeah its pretty cute look"

“It was just a little trinket,” Phainon mumbled, now avoiding eye contact as he fidgeted with the hem of his coat. “Nothing to make a fuss over.”

“Oh, I’m sure its just a little trinket,” Trailblazer teased, arching an eyebrow at him. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Trailblazer…” Dan Heng’s voice was flat, warning them to ease up on the teasing.

You, still oblivious, gave Phainon a warm smile. “I think it was really sweet.”

Phainon tried his best to hold his composure, but his cheeks were a little too pink for anyone to miss. “It’s... really not important.”

“Sure it’s not,” Trailblazer said, nudging Dan Heng with a sly grin. “What do you think, Dan Heng? Think we should give them some space?”

Dan Heng didn’t respond immediately, but his eyes flickered briefly between you and Phainon. He sighed, but there was a hint of amusement in his voice as he answered. “If you want to, sure. But we know how Y/N is when they’re excited about something.” He turned to you with a faint smile. “You’re enjoying the city so far, I take it?”

You nodded enthusiastically. “Definitely! Phainon’s been an amazing guide. I’ve learned so much about Okhema already.”

Phainon’s stiff posture relaxed slightly at your words, though he was still visibly flustered. “I’m happy to help.”

Trailblazer, clearly enjoying the awkward tension, leaned toward Phainon with a grin. “You’re making great progress, Phainon. Keep it up.”

Phainon’s eyes widened slightly. “I—I’m not—”

Mydei crossed his arms, leaning in slightly toward Phainon. “You’re not fooling anyone, man. You might as well just admit it.”

Tribbie giggled at Phainon’s embarrassment, her blue eyes sparkling with amusement. “Don’t worry, Phainon. You’re doing fine.”

Phainon sighed deeply, his shoulders slumping. “I don’t know what you’re all talking about.”

But his blush was all the answer they needed.

Dan Heng gave a small, knowing smile. “It’s alright, Phainon. You don’t have to say anything.”

Trailblazer tilted their head slightly and gave Phainon a wink. “Oh, I think Phainon’s doing just fine.”

You, still unaware of the subtle back-and-forth happening around you, smiled and glanced between your two crews. “We should all hang out together more often! You all seem like you get along great.”

“Yeah, we totally get along,” Trailblazer said, their grin far too wide. “Just like a big happy family.”

“Don’t encourage them,” Dan Heng muttered under his breath.

You laughed, giving Dan Heng a playful shove. “Come on, Dan Heng. You can’t be that grumpy.”

As you continued chatting with Dan Heng and Trailblazer, Phainon found himself strangely quiet, caught between the overwhelming urge to retreat and his desire to stay close to you. He still couldn’t shake the feeling that your attention was like a distant star, just out of reach, even as you smiled at him occasionally.