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starcurtain · 1 month ago

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Some Notes on Mydei's Characterization (Part 2)

<- Part 1 is back this way.

I hit the tumblr image limit way before I ran out of things to say about Mydei, so here is the second half of the notes I've been collecting on his characterization. As always, interpretations are my own.

6. Mydei Both Embodies and Challenges Nikador's Virtues

We know that Mydei is regarded, by characters in the game at least, as the perfect avatar for Strife. Repeatedly, the game parallels Mydei and Nikador, and throughout our journey in 3.0 with Gnaeus, we're supposed to see the similarities between his aloof but noble behavior and Mydei's belief that violence without honor is nothing but meaningless slaughter. Obviously the undying king with powers literally based on the spilled blood of legions would be a good match for the warrior god whose conquest plucked the sun out of the sky... (Although I do like the recent discussions I've seen of there being mismatches between the Chrysos Heirs and the titans, hmm.)

But though Mydei reveres Nikador as his people's god, at the same time, he actually reviles what Nikador has come to represent, quintessentially rejecting the the central tenants of his own people's faith. Even as he recognizes the inevitability of the prophecy, Mydei is unwilling to accept the coreflame because he sees his own identity as diametrically opposed to Kremnos's conception of Strife. Mydei doesn't want to become what Strife means for his people; he does not feel fit to be Strife's demigod because he understands that doing so will mean losing himself, a person who is fundamentally different from the Nikador of Amphoreus's current timeline.

So the game is simultaneously telling us that Mydei is a great parallel to Nikador and a terrible parallel to Nikador, and it achieves this interesting contradiction by deliberately examining Nikador's five core traits in comparison to Mydei, who both exemplifies those traits and defies them.

According to the Kremnoans, the five virtues of Nikador are:

Unfearing of blade at the throat, manifesting the visage of courage

Unyielding to conniving treachery, protecting the crown of honor

Unblinking of eyes burning bright, upholding the cornerstone of reason

Unbending from wounds to flesh, forging characters of tenacity

Undaunted of risking life to protect, embodying corpus of sacrifice

Taking only the key concepts--courage, honor, reason, tenacity, and sacrifice--it should be abundantly clear how closely Mydei hews to these virtues and how they've informed his character arc so far, but I think it's particularly interesting: Mydei's story also intentionally refutes the traditional Kremnoan interpretations of those virtues.

I'll talk more about sacrifice later, but the other virtues are very apparent:

"Unfearing of the Blade at the Throat"

I barely have to say anything, do I? I doubt there's anyone who would question Mydei's courage given what we see in from 3.0 to 3.1. Without flinching, Mydei was willing to plunge into single combat against Nikador, despite knowing that he would almost certainly die a countless number of times while trying to hold the god off. Even knowing that Phainon was literally losing his mind in Nikador's coreflame trial, Mydei was willing to jump into the trial himself to save Phainon, again without a single ounce of hesitation. Mydei has lived a life where he has constantly faced death head on, where he has needed to stand up against impossible odds over and over again.

Clearly, he fully embodies the classic Kremnoan notion of charging into battle without wavering, of never backing down from the challenge, and of never shying away, even when loss is imminent. On the surface, we can easily say that Mydei parallels Nikador in this manner, and that Mydei gracefully fulfills his people's expectations for a leader to be absolutely undaunted in combat.

But then the game takes another track and tells us that Mydei is not only what he seems on the surface. With direct confirmation, the game tells us that Mydei is not fearless.

In fact, he's flat out terrified--not of combat, but of history. He is frightened of his own authority, of the responsibility he bears toward others, of choice that has been left in his hands. He is afraid of making the wrong choice, and for both 3.0 and 3.1, we see him do the exact thing a Kremnoan king--an embodiment of Strife--should never do: he wavers. Multiple characters criticize him for this hesitance, even Phainon, who jokingly scoffs at the idea of Mydei breaking his people's traditions, only to backpedal when he realizes Mydei is serious.

The conclusion of Mydei's arc in 3.1 is not the trial with Nikador. It's not Mydei's becoming a demigod. It's not Mydei's battle with Flame Reaver. It's Mydei finally making up his mind and committing both himself and the Kremnoan people to the dead opposite path expected of a blood-stained conquering nation. Mydei's definition of courage directly opposes the traditional Kremnoan definition, and therefore also opposes their interpretation of Nikador's "unfearing" virtue.

Rather than charging into battle without flinching--Mydei's courage demands the Kremnoans surrender the fight instead. Instead of dying, now they have to live. This is what makes it so fascinating that Krateros actually reacts to Mydei's brand of courage with terror:

Kremnoans know how to throw their lives away without hesitation. But asking them to embrace peace? Change? To survive? They are unprepared and entirely out of their realm of experience.

Mydei's courage parallels Nikador's--but also utterly inverts it.

"Unbending from Wounds of Flesh"

Tenacity, too, should be very obvious. Of course Mydei fits the traditional Kremnoan interpretation to a T--he takes every hit and stands right back up again. Very little needs to be said about Mydei's willingness to keep going even if it kills him, then to come back swinging even after dying. In the eyes of the traditional Kremnoan people, who could possibly be a better example of tenacity than someone whose body can't even be stopped by death itself?

The implication of the original Kremnoan virtue, linking tenacity to being "unbending from wounds," is that physicality is what matters. Before all else, to be able to battle without ceasing is the aspiration, while other aspects of the soul, other elements necessary for meaningful lives, are left under-developed or entirely eschewed. You keep going into battle or you might as well not keep going at all.

But Mydei once again challenges this notion, as his character revolves around a central conflict whose answer is "peace"--he doesn't want the Kremnoans to have to show the type of tenacity they most ferociously believe in. Like Mydei's courageous decision to lead his people away from their own faith, Mydei's actual tenacity appears most clearly in his ability to face Amphoreus's cruel world with empathy.

Given everything he has experienced in his life, Mydei is the character in Amphoreus who has the most right to be jaded, to believe that people are inherently cruel, that nothing in their dying world can be improved, and that there's no meaning to life other than to suffer. He was murdered by his father who also murdered the mother who loved him. He suffered ten thousand deaths drifting miserably in the abyss of the Sea of Souls, entirely alone--yet he clung tenaciously to that life that promised nothing but more suffering, dragged himself free of that hell and kept going. He embraced friendship and found himself a family, only to lose every tiny shred of joy he had cobbled together for himself as they died in front of him in horrific ways, one after another. He became the crown prince of a fallen kingdom, leading refugees into a city that hated and mistreated them for years while he served as fodder for battle, all while knowing that his own ultimate fate would be to surrender his remaining humanity to become an avatar for calamity, ensuring his own future would nothing but endless pain and loneliness.

The man had absolutely nothing to live for (except for the fact he can't die, I guess), but instead of surrendering to despair, he's the one joining in on the Flame-Chase Journey, telling Aglaea that he admires her most because she managed to light the flame of hope in people--even in him.

Knowing that only more suffering lies ahead of him, Mydei still ferociously embraces the life he's been given and the heavy honor he bears in guiding others on the right path. Rather than just racing mindlessly into battle, again and again into the same cycle of conquest, Mydei's truest example of tenacity is his ability to "take the first step," moving forward mentally and emotionally toward the future he dreams of for his people.

"Unyielding to Conniving Trickery"

Just as with all of Nikador's other virtues, Mydei clearly embodies the traditional Kremnoan definition of honor: He's honest, straightforward, and reviles those who use trickery to achieve their goals. To that end, we can see his act of patricide as the ultimate example of Mydei upholding the very classic Kremnoan definition of honor, killing a conniving schemer, his father Eurypon, to avenge an honorable warrior, his mother Gorgo.

Yet even as he accomplishes what he views as a necessary act--a duty to his mother's memory--Mydei does not react to the deed as other Kremnoans expect. Krateros rejoices at Mydei's decision to kill his father, but Mydei's only response is silence. Later, as I mentioned above, he discusses the pursuit of vengeance with Phainon and warns Phainon that revenge can never bring joy or closure.

In the ruins of Castrum Kremnos, when Phainon and Mydei debate the intersection of honor in combat, Mydei at first challenges Phainon's soft-hearted view with the traditional Kremnoan definition--but then, when Phainon claims that Mydei doesn't believe in his own people's tenets--Mydei remains silent again, tacitly agreeing with the truth Phainon has revealed.

Mydei is a deeply honorable character. Certainly the Kremnoans would have no scruples saying that about him, if only his surface actions are considered. Yet at his core, Mydei's definition of honor ultimately rejects everything the Kremnoans stand for, seeing absolutely no meaning in their pointless battles or their excuses for bringing harm upon others. Recognizing that nothing is truly gained even during the most justifiable of killings, Mydei's own sense of honor makes all of Kremnos's sacred history look like nothing but a record of historic evils.

"Unblinking of Eyes Burning Bright"

"Reason" is the virtue missing from Nikador, the one that up and wanders away while the Black Tide moves in. We're introduced to Nikador's reason as an entire embodied concept through Gnaeus. Through Castorice's interactions with Gnaeus, we're led to believe that Nikador was once fair and just, capable of staying his blade in respect of worthy opponents and of discerning the schemes of lesser men. The virtue, in the classical Kremnoan interpretation, seems to lie in being judicious, in knowing when to strike to always secure victory.

Mydei, of course, is not an unreasonable person. (He's more reasonable than the cranky/tsundere stereotypes he gets in fandom, anyway lol.) As I mentioned in the first part of this post, when Phainon wants to go charge straight into fight Nikador, it's Mydei who demonstrates this virtue of reason, reminding Phainon that they simply don't have the resources to tackle the fight. In 3.1, it's Mydei who reasons out what is going on in the first coreflame trial and determines how to solve their issue, find Phainon, and safely escape. Tactically, Mydei clearly demonstrates the ability to keep up with his opponents' moves, strategically divide forces, and see through enemy bluffs. By all accounts, he's a perfect picture of traditional Kremnoan "reason" too.

Yet, once again, Mydei's particular sense of reason puts him at odds with Kremnoan beliefs--because he is smart enough to see the bigger picture. What does victory in one, two, three battles mean? What does winning one war mean, if the next war is already on the horizon? What purpose does dying in noble combat even serve in a world that is already ending? Mydei applies his reason not to the short-sighted conquest of prior Kremnoans but to the longer view of the future, recognizing the futility and inevitability of the rise and fall of nations. For this clear view of history, Krateros warns Mydei that the ultimate consequence of his own intelligence will only be more suffering for him:

Like Nikador's reason standing alone, Mydei's reason sets him entirely outside the Kremnoan faith, causing him to recognize the inherent failings of a cultural system of wasteful violence enforced for over a thousand years. Looking at his own people with a discerning eye, Mydei ends up accidentally separating himself entirely from the familiar confines of his people and their traditions--like Gnaeus, struggling but unable to return to the whole.

On the surface, Mydei represents an excellent embodiment of classical Kremnoan virtues. As Eurypon says in the Kremnos flashback, Mydei bears the seeds of all of Nikador's virtues, stepping unflinching into battle, refusing to surrender in the face of death, approaching every duel with honor, and knowing when and where to strike. But at every turn, he also rejects and exceeds the confines of his people's interpretations of those virtues, using courage to stop battles rather than start them, tenacity to take the first step on a journey toward a more peaceful future, honor to reject the cruelty of Kremnos's callous views on death, and reason to grasp the broader context of making meaning in a dying world.

Mydei should be understood, at his core, as a character of extreme contradictions--both the "most and least Kremnoan of them all." Examining the way his character parallels while also wildly deviates from Nikador's perfectly encapsulates the core conflict of Mydei's character arc, the place where who the world expects him to be--crown prince of Kremnos, demigod of Strife--clashes directly with who he wants to be--the revolutionary remembered for freeing his people from despair into a true "Era Nova" of hope.

7. The Person Who Matters Least to Mydei is Mydei

Okay, so wait--what about "sacrifice"? It almost goes without saying, but I left the last virtue to its own point because "sacrifice" is the single most important trait of Mydei's character.

This is true in two entirely different ways: Mydei's life and philosophy were shaped almost single-handedly by the sacrifices of others--first, by his mother fighting to the death in an attempt to avenge him, and then by the sacrifices of each of his five friends in turn, who died insisting that Mydei should live on in their place. Knowing of his mother's sacrifice and witnessing his friends' deaths were clearly the life-altering experiences driving Mydei's departure from the Kremnoan faith.

Even as he tried to fulfill his friends' wishes by taking up his place as the crown prince of Kremnos, it's from these losses that Mydei truly learned the meaningless of the central tenet of Kremnoan belief, "valorous death before glorious return." There was nothing valorous in the deaths Mydei was forced to watch--the people he loved died pointlessly, fighting essentially for a cause and nation that had already rejected them. By watching everyone he cared for sacrifice themselves on the altar of Kremnoan ideology, he--the sole survivor, the one always, always left behind--was forced to confront the real reality of a culture that chooses to romanticize death, that hinges self-worth on a willingness to kill and be killed, that exists entirely as a war machine dependent on its ability to bring pain and suffering to others.

Even as he loved Kremnos for being the nation to birth him, the nation to embrace him, and the nation to need him--I think Mydei must have hated Castrum Kremnos in equal measure. This, I think is core to understanding Mydei's relationship with his own self-identity as Kremnos's prince: He loved what Kremnos could have been, while despising what it had become.

In the sacrifices of his comrades, Mydei found the very opposite cause his friends expected of him--he found his will to tear down their entire nation's thousands-year-old system of wasteful bloodshed.

But, another contradiction: While hating the sacrifices others were willing to make for him, Mydei has also proven himself to be an exceedingly, unflinchingly giving person. There is no aspect of himself, his own happiness, or his own freedom that Mydeimos is not willing to sacrifice if it means protecting the people, the land, and the world. If by giving something of himself, he can improve the lives of those who deserve it, Mydei will always choose to take the suffering of others on himself.

We see this selflessly giving nature from his earliest memories. His first character story impresses that even from his time as a tiny child, he was willing to aid others with no thought of reward, at his own expense even, helping drowning fisherman make it to safety but never seeming to be able to make it out of the Sea of Souls himself. By 3.0, we're told that Mydei and the Kremnoan detachment had become Aglaea's blade, carrying the brunt of Okhema's battle against the Black Tide and the raving titankin. Despite the fact that Mydei has reservations about Aglaea's orders, he follows them essentially without question, even when he knows this will put him at risk of pain and death:

But 3.1, of course, is what truly hammers the extent of Mydei's self-sacrificial behavior home. In 3.0, we see Mydei flat out refuse the coreflame of Strife several times. Mission text for the game tells us that he has "an absurd extent of hesitation and objection to accepting the god's authority," but Mydei also insists repeatedly that his hesitation doesn't have to do with worrying about himself. Instead, he says that his only hesitation is his people. Whether this is true... more in a second, but for now:

Mydei does not want to accept his destiny to become the demigod of Strife because he fears it will bring harm to those he cares for, the Kremnoan people he has fought for and died (many times) to protect. He is afraid he will perpetuate the exact same cycle of needless violence he despises if he loses his self-identity to the soul of Strife. He is, he claims, perfectly willing to sacrifice his humanity and self-identity as "Mydei" to become "Amphoreus's Guardian"--but only if he can do so while still ensuring a real future for the Kremnoans. Sure, this seems like a noble goal, but in all of this, there is no talk of Mydei's life, Mydei's freedom, or Mydei's dreams. It is only ever "what is best for the Kremnoan people" and "what is best for Amphoreus."

In essence: What Mydei wants does not matter, because Mydei's only spoken concern is the needs of other people.

For me as a fan of this character, the first half of 3.1 was viscerally discomforting. As players, we have the oh-so-pleasant privilege of starting 3.1 watching Mydei be systematically manipulated into sacrificing his own autonomy. I absolutely love Aglaea and Tribbie, but I won't sugarcoat it: by word and action, both of Okhema's demigods knowingly stripped Mydei of his agency:

First, Aglaea insults and pressures Mydei, calling him foolhardy and essentially suggesting that if Amphoreus falls, it's going to be because of Mydei's indecision. She essentially drops the responsibility for all of Amphoreus on his shoulders:

Then, Mydei confronts Tribbie about the even harsher truth, that both Aglaea and Tribbie had knowingly gambled with Phainon's life strictly to push Mydei into that corner:

Yet even after all this, even knowing that Aglaea and Tribbie have just doomed him to an end in pain and misery, what does Mydei say? "I have no intention of condemning you for it." He knows the meaning of the Flame-Chase Journey and understands that his autonomy was never going to stand up to the prophecy. He just lost every hope he might have had of living the life he dreamed of--and what does he still say? "It's okay. I don't blame you." Goddamn Mydei, won't you stand up for yourself at least a little?

Then we get to watch Mydei grow desperate. His freedom and future are already bought and sold. He knows he's running out of time, and he still hasn't found a way to protect the people who are relying on him. He practically begs Krateros to help turn the Kremnoans away from their path of bloodshed, and what does he get from the closest thing he ever had to a father figure?

A extremely cutting guilt trip, and, maybe even worse, a thinly veiled threat to withhold regard:

This might as well be a father saying "You have disappointed me."

Mydei has no one to turn to in these early scenes. Again, not a shipping post, but his only genuine ally, Phainon, isn't here to be his back up, leading to scene after scene where Mydei is treated like fate's chew toy. Players get to watch every single character who is indebted Mydei for his service and who has every reason to respect his wishes instead turn on him and push him into doing things he doesn't want to do.

(Okay, I'm lying, this is a little bit of a shipping post: I can't help but laugh, because the plot of mid-3.1 is literally "Phainon comes back for one scene and almost single-handedly solves Mydei's central character conflict by sending him to talk to Chartonus." He really said "I gotchu, man." 😂)

In Mydei's final goodbye to Castorice, we even see this unhesitating self-sacrificial nature when Mydei thoughtlessly offers to let Castorice kill him just so he can help with her own goal of pursuing Thanatos. Castorice is quick to rebuke him because, unlike Mydei, who has come to view his uncountable number of lives as nothing but currency to be spent in service to others, Castorice desperately values life. She chides him for being so willing to sacrifice himself, but he basically deflects, claiming it's an aspect of all Kremnoans rather than reconciling with the fact that, by this point, he's basically given up on trying to have any regard for himself.

In the end, Mydei manages to find his way forward, making the final, devastating difficult call to dissolve the dynasty and end the history of Castrum Kremnos. This is framed as Mydei reclaiming his agency, making the choice that he knows is right over the choice everyone expects of him. This is what Mydei wants for his people.

But what is the final outcome here for Mydei? The Kremnoans staying safe in the holy city wasn't Krateros's wish, nor the detachment's wish--it wasn't even the young Kremnoan children's wishes to stay in Okhema. It was Mydei's wish to live peacefully in Okhema with those he cares about, finally free of the shadow of Kremnos's bloodstained history and the madness of the path of Strife.

The life that Mydei secured for the Kremnoans is the life he dreamed of living.

And now the only Kremnoan who doesn't get to live that dream is Mydei.

Mydei went to Castrum Kremnos knowing he would likely never return. He went knowing his own death was already signed and underlined in future records of history, either at the hands of enemies from the Black Tide or at the hands of the person he trusted his deepest secret to. He knew that he would spend the rest of his life alone, engaged in the very same endless war he wanted to stop, the strife he did everything to spare his people from.

He sacrificed his own humanity, his entire life--everything he fought to claim as his own--all to protect other people. (I.... love this character so much...)

Nikador's last virtue is sacrifice. If you want to understand Mydei's character, just remember: Mydei is the kind of person willing to sacrifice everything he has.

8. But the Fact that "Mydei" Exists Means Something

Okay, but with all of that said, the true tragedy of Mydei's story is that he wasn't completely selfless. If he genuinely had no thoughts for himself and lived only for the happiness of others, his actions in 3.1 wouldn't be framed as a sacrifice in the first place.

Mydei's decision was difficult, and his ultimate departure was saddening, because he did have some regard for his own life. Mydei had dreams that didn't involve becoming the demigod of Strife. There were things Mydei was looking for in the world that now he will never get the chance to find.

And nothing more clearly tells players this than the existence of the name "Mydei."

Unfortunately, the effect of Mydei's name change is a little bit lost from the original Chinese to English: In Chinese, while "Mydeimos" is the same as in English (Màidémósī/迈德谟斯), "Mydei" is actually "Wàndí" (万敌), functionally an entirely different name. This works in Chinese because the use of specific characters allows the meaning of the name to stay the same (the "My" in Mydeimos means "ten thousand" and so does "万") while the sound of the name changes noticeably. In English, just using an abbreviation doesn't have quite the same effect unfortunately, but obviously the English translators didn't have the same options.

Anyway, the point is that in the original text, Mydei didn't just ask the Chrysos Heirs to use a nickname; he literally gave them an entirely different name--almost an entirely different identity. This distinction is reflected in his very first voice line, where he introduces himself as both "Mydeimos, the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos, and Mydei, the warrior of Okhema," as if these are two different people.

Mydei was essentially inventing a different life for himself, a life where he didn't have to be a prince but instead could be just a regular warrior, where he wasn't "of Castrum Kremnos" but "of Okhema."

At the end of 3.1, Mydei's return to Castrum Kremnos is framed as "returning home." The mission description suggests this, and when Mydei returns to Castrum Kremnos, he's greeted by his mother's voice and answers her turn.

But this is actually bittersweet, because the game tells us repeatedly that Mydei has deeply conflicted feelings over whether to think of Castrum Kremnos as his home. In 3.0, Phainon insists that Mydei must be feeling extreme homesickness while exploring the ruins of Castrum Kremnos, but Mydei's conflicting backstories make it unclear whether he ever truly lived in Castrum Kremnos as a child.

Then, in 3.1, Mydei's scene with the children is obviously meant to be an evocative parallel. The children insist that Kremnos is their home, but Mydei pauses and asks them: "Can a place you've never seen be called your home?" This scene is important, because it is clearly intended to parallel Mydei's own situation. Most characters in the story--including all the Kremnoans--view Castrum Kremnos as Mydei's home, but he was thrown into the sea from the time he was an infant. Even if he returned to Kremnos after that, it could only have been under a false name, hiding his existence from his father the king. Is he himself holding on to the notion of Kremnos less for what it is and more for what he feels it's supposed to mean to him? Merely because of tradition and history? Was Castrum Kremnos ever really his home, or has Mydei's home always been the people he loves?

When Castorice asks him if he's returning home at the end of 3.1, Mydei struggles to answer the question, making it clear that he doesn't truly believe that Castrum Kremnos is his home anymore:

But if Kremnos isn't his home, then where is? (Oh, you wandering lion...)

I'd like to point out that Mydei's "About Self" line isn't "About Self: Castrum Kremnos." It's "About Self: Holy City." In this voice line, he expresses his surprise about the new life he managed to create in Okhema, how he never would have dreamed of ending up there as their ally one day. But in the same breath, he laments that "Okhema cannot be a home for everyone," because, as he discusses later in his "Annoyances" voice line: "Castrum Kremnos and Okhema have long been at odds. A spear can pierce the enemy king, but it cannot resolve the deep grudges of the people." Mydei is vexed by the barrier between the Kremnoans and the Okhemans because he doesn't want his two nations to be at odds. He wants Okhema to be a welcoming place for the Kremnoans--himself included.

The game tells us that Mydei was a person who was looking for a home, and that he wanted Okhema to be that home.

Mydei admits to Phainon that he is (they both are) naive, always wanting the best for everyone:

What Mydei believed was "the best for everyone" was a peaceful place. A place his people could prosper, a place where they could live on without needlessly wasting their lives on the battlefield, where, like the Mountain-Dwellers pushed from their homes in Chartonus's story, there would at least be a future for the Kremnoans that wasn't just "valorous death."

But Mydei wanted all that for himself too.

In "As I've Written," the author writes that Okhema was the final gift Mydei gave to his people--but in doing so, he had to sacrifice the chance to keep Okhema as a home for himself.

Mydeimos was willing to make the ultimate sacrifice for his people without hesitating. He was willing to throw himself into danger over and over again, even when it would kill him painfully numerous times. He was willing to face his deepest fear and take on the coreflame of Strife to protect Amphoreus, despite knowing that the cost would be his personal happiness and freedom. He did so almost entirely without regard for his own life, unwavering in his sense of duty to others.

But the existence of "Mydei" meant something: a small, secret wish for a different future, to become someone who could live freely in a world without meaningless, endless violence, unchained from the evernight at last, surrounded by the people he cared for and who cared for him in turn.

Many people are worried for the numerous death flags surrounding our favorite prince... but the truth is that "Mydei" is already dead. That hoped-for life died the moment Mydeimos accepted the coreflame of Strife and surrendered his humanity, the moment he returned to the empty darkness of a fallen kingdom, where only a throne of blood was waiting, bidding farewell to any dream he ever had for a softer future.

9. Deeply Affected by Okhema's Discrimination

All right, that was bad. So you know what I'm going to do now? Make it worse.

I truly believe that part of the reason Mydei did not fight harder against his fate is that, even as he made his decree telling all the other Kremnoans to stay in Okhema and adapt to their ways... He didn't know how to do that himself. Even as he wanted to make Okhema his new home, he didn't know how to make the holy city accept him. (He probably doesn't know how to make himself feel at home anywhere, really.)

"As I've Written" says that cruel rumors followed him everywhere he went in Okhema, even though he never raised a hand against anyone in the city:

His voice line "Annoyances" suggests that Mydei is frustrated that he could kill what was likely one of Okhema's greatest enemies, Eurypon, and yet still the city would not forgive the grudges of the past. In 3.0, one of Mydei's first lines to Phainon is to remind him that Okhemans and Kremnoans still don't get along, even as he also says "I'm not in a place where I'm free to change that."

In 3.1, we see that despite serving the city faithfully as frontline soldiers for years, dying for Okhema's cause, the Kremnoans are still so mistrusted that the Council orders higher ranking members like Krateros to be placed under surveillance. In 3.0, the Kremnoan NPC Aeleus basically ends up running off from Okhema (to his implied death) simply because the Okhemans would not accept his relationship with one of their own. At the very beginning of 3.0, one of Phainon's first lines is chiding Mydei for not protecting "Okhema's citizens," but the way the line is framed accidentally excludes Mydei from being counted among those citizens, something which Mydei calls Phainon out for.

In 3.1, what the Kremnoan children tell Mydei is pretty devastating: they're being ostracized so badly, they can't even think of the place where they were born as their home.

At the end of 3.1, Mydei is even shocked to see that people other than the Kremnoans have come to see him off, seeming genuinely surprised that any of the Okhemans would respect him enough to want to say goodbye.

Even more telling, Mydei's own allies, his fellow Chrysos Heirs, admit that they've completely neglected the situation of the Kremnoans, turning a blind eye to the discrimination and hardships Mydei's people have been facing for years.

But all of this really culminates in the first coreflame trial. Although I've seen lots of people talking about how Mydei's fear was losing his friends, including Phainon, I think a lot of people kind of blanked over the fact that Mydei didn't just fear losing his friends--he specifically feared that his people would become the victims of hate crimes. The entire setting of the first trial for Mydei was watching the Okhemans turn on the Kremnoans, hurling slander and literally beating Kremnoans to death in the streets.

(This last one was particularly harsh, as Mydei clearly holds Chartonus in high regard--seeing someone he cares for act frightened of him and tell him there's no place for him in Okhema clearly shook Mydei even more than seeing the shade of Perdikkas die again.)

Mydei confirms for Tribbie that in Nikador's trial, he saw his "greatest fear," something that "terrified him." But Mydei wasn't just frightened of losing his friends--if it was only losing his friends that he feared, then like Phainon was, he would have been transported to the past and relived their real deaths. Instead, we specifically see a new fear: Mydei is terrified of Okhema's xenophobia, terrified that his people (and himself) will eventually be entirely rejected, losing their last refuge in a dying world.

Part of Mydei's greatest fear is the belief that no one wants him, that there is no place in Amphoreus for the "beast spurned by all."

This, of course, makes Tribbie's comment about how she and Aglaea have sidelined the Kremnoans' concerns all the worse--while treating him as a friend and ally, the Chrysos Heirs seem to have largely failed to do anything to address the prejudice Mydei was facing. In fact, we even see this mirrored in the bath scene later; yes, it's light-hearted but also, in the broader context, it isn't the greatest of looks: Even though Phainon is obviously being dumb, everyone automatically believes Phainon when he pins the blame on Mydei, and they confront Mydei as if the whole thing were his fault.

Mydei is an incredibly resilient and enduring person. He has faced the entire world as his enemy and still come out on the side of good. He certainly would not allow the opinions of plebeians to sway him. Nothing others could say or do would force him to bow his head.

But... I don't think Mydei was as immune to Okhema's discrimination as he liked to seem. The fact that he created an entire new name for himself, that he swore his loyalty to Aglaea and kept every promise he made to Okhema and the Chrysos Heirs, and yet still couldn't find a way to make Okhema his home... The fact that dream he had for his people's future was essentially for them to be able to live the exact same lives the Okhemans already do, in peace and prosperity, and yet even while living among them for years, the Kremnoans hadn't been able to reach that level of comfort... The fact that his last wish to Phainon was for him to be the bridge to finally help the Kremnoans adapt to life in their new nation...

Phainon's comments about what happened to the Mountain-Dwellers after they left their homes almost seemed to suggest that he fully understood the dangers of the action Mydei had just taken--like the Mountain-Dwellers, committing the Kremnoans to a future in Okhema does mean exposing them to further prejudice and mistreatment. Mydei accepts this as fact, suggesting that he knows just how much his people might suffer from the choice forcing them adapt to a foreign culture's expectations. And yet Mydei excluded himself from that need, and now will likely never--in this life at least--have the opportunity to grow to fit the place he expects his people to one day call home.

The fact that so much of Mydei's story revolves around this conflict between the two halves of his life, his two nations, suggests that this issue did affect him significantly, likely for years. I think it is actually one of the key reasons Mydei struggled so severely with his decision over the Kremnoans' future--and over his own future. If Okhema had accepted Mydei with open arms, treated him with respect and affection, if the holy city had given him a real home for possibly the first time... I don't think the story would be where it is now. Mydei was so willing to give up his own life and freedom at least in part because he felt like he had no other options, and some of that feeling certainly comes from believing he had no place in Okhema. Mydei was convinced that the other Kremnoans would eventually adapt and be accepted by the Okhemans, but I don't believe he ever thought that acceptance would apply to him.

It wasn't just the prophecy that drove Mydei away to Castrum Kremnos.

I think Mydei's character should be best understood as someone who, even while refusing to ever give in to the hurtful comments and behavior of others, was at least very much aware of, and shaped by, years of discrimination for beliefs he didn't even hold.

10. Stranger Danger/"I Won't Say I'm in Love~"

All right, with those wonderfully depressing points out of the way, why don't I end with some comedic relief? There's one last thing I want to say about Mydei's characterization:

He's kind of shy.

😂😂😂Okay, okay, I'm kidding. Mydei isn't actually shy by the average definition of shy folks (nervous, struggling to assert themselves, cracking under the slightest scrutiny). Mydei isn't going to ever make himself smaller or run away when someone tries to approach him, of course not.

But Mydei is reserved. It seems that he does not usually befriend people easily, is slow to trust, and keeps himself aloof, particularly among those he doesn't know well. It's easy to see this in the flashback from early on in Phainon and Mydei's acquaintance, where his responses to the conversation are exceptionally stand-offish, devolving into just one-word answers to try to free himself from the awkward small talk with a stranger.

One of the places people are most likely to find Mydei in Okhema is withdrawn, keeping to himself all the way up on the farthest corner of the roof. He even flat out asks why the Trailblazer would ignore his obvious wish for alone time. Even in 3.1, when taking a photo with the Trailblazer, Mydei is pretty awkward about it, saying that he doesn't take photos often, which suggests that he doesn't put himself out there much, even on Okhema's World Wound Web. (Maybe he's just hiding behind his cute chimera tiktoks instead; I am a Fig Stew truther lol.)

But I think perhaps the funniest indicator of Mydei's reserved nature are the scenes in Castrum Kremnos in 3.0. Although the Trailblazer is obviously not the most talkative character in Star Rail, Mydei goes almost that entire sequence without speaking more than a single sentence directly to the Trailblazer. Literally, the only line of cutscene dialogue he says to the Trailblazer for an entire two hour sequence of the patch is "Think what you want." Every other line in the entire Castrum Kremnos sequence is instead spoken to Phainon; sometimes he even speaks about the Trailblazer but goes right over Trailblazer's head to talk to them through the medium of Phainon.

Even Mydei's voice lines start with bare bones, one-word answers; his greeting to the Trailblazer is just "Mhm," despite clearly having no issues speaking full sentences to people he knows better.

Mydei really said "I don't talk to strangers."

Which, honestly? Totally fair of him. When you're an exile from your homeland which is ruled by a king who tried to kill you and every single other surviving nation on the planet hates your guts, it's not like a lot of the strangers you meet are going to end up being friendly. Mydei has obvious reasons to be aloof and to withhold his thoughts from people until he's certain he can trust them. He even has reasons to not be that well adjusted; the first nine years of his life were spent with virtually no human contact, and then even after that, he was taken in by the Kremnoan exiles who were already predisposed to support him no matter what his ability to connect with others was like. It's perfectly understandable for Mydei to not be the most talented social speaker and to tend to keep to himself.

But it's also just so humorous in practice--an undying prince of a conquering nation, one of the lead warriors of Okhema, rife with the pride of Castrum Kremnos, refined in both body and manner... And he's just awkward with people he doesn't know well. As much as it might be influenced by a tragic past, it's also a charm point.

Hell, Mydei's a little bit awkward even with people he does know well, at least when it comes to trying to express himself. Of course, the bath scene is the best example of this. Mydei comes up with literally five different options for things to say to Phainon and then ultimately scraps them all because "None of those sound right." (What he goes with in the end honestly isn't any better lol.)

Mydei was clearly trying his best to find the correct words, and the fact that he hesitated over picking the "right" answer tells us that he's not always as confident in communicating with others as he might initially come across. He's not just trying to come up with the first thing possible--he's trying to find the right thing to say because he is considerate and invested in in being understood by those he actually cares about. Krateros accuses Mydei of using words alone to try to end the Kremnoan dynasty, but the truth is that if Mydei were better at expressing himself--more eloquent and more persuasive--he likely would have faced less opposition for his beliefs.

When characterizing Mydei, I think he reads very much as the kind of person who can say the exact right thing in the exact right moment when it comes to, say, earth-shattering duels with the gods--the kind of person who can speak with poise if there's a challenging political or martial situation afoot. But in closer settings? In those personal conversations where he can't assume a distant, military commander stance and fall back on the expected answers of a warrior prince? The places where what he says really matters, emotionally, to the person on the other side? A lot tougher battlefield.

I think Mydei really is someone who comes across as distinctly reserved--not always because he's aloof or untrusting, but because sometimes he just doesn't know what to say or how to say the things he's feeling and thinking. It's cute, okay?

And you know what else is cute?

It's true that Mydei isn't classically shy, but his marketing has shown us that there is one scenario that he absolutely can't handle: Mydei can't even hear the word "romance" without getting flustered. (The gap moe is so, so real; I am not immune to your propaganda, Hoyo...)

In the 3.1 special program, just the rumor that Nikador once had amorous feelings is enough to leave Mydei stuttering, and in his weibo animation, when the "princess" demands that Mydei act charming, he completely falls apart, so much that he can't even get the sentences out straight and blurs them into a nonsensical mess.

Mydei, fistfighting a god: For me, it was Tuesday.

Mydei, being asked on a date: This is how it ends.

I know it's popular to make jokes about Mydei having his harem, but honestly, if just hearing the word "pretty" makes him panic, I'm not sure how he would ever have managed it. 🤣

Of course, this gets even funnier when we remember that Mydei is also the male character who most consistently brings up talks about emotions and the importance of recognizing and embracing them, who chides Phainon for trying to hide his sadness during their goodbye, and who casually drops half of Amphoreus's most romantic lines. Mr. "If there's chance in the next life, you should come visit my library" can't handle "Do you wanna dance together?"

Make of all this what you will; I don't have a deeper meta analysis of this that wouldn't be better put in a ship post, but in terms of characterization, I think the way Mydei communicates, struggles to communicate, and the places where his communication completely breaks down are all great indicators of the overall person the dev team was trying to convey:

Someone who cares for other people, even more than he cares for himself, but who still, and perhaps always, longed to find a place to belong, loved ones to come home to, and those who will listen to both the words he says and the ones he can't quite get out.

Mydei isn't a brawn over brains brute whose temper pops off every single time he gets mildly annoyed, or someone who lives his whole life in the training arena and takes every chance he can to start petty arguments. He isn't especially grumpy, machismo, or repressing his feelings, even when he's not always capable of realizing just how justified those feelings are. He's not unnecessarily aggressive or particularly rash, and he's definitely not dumb muscle. He is self-sacrificial to a fault...

But he is also a character of true extremes, combining an incredible capacity for violence with a longing for peace, a desire to do his duty to others while still wanting to keep something for himself, a pragmatist who understood the futility of fighting fate while still, deep down, harboring the idealized dream of a kinder future. He is the one who always asks to talk, but also struggles to find the right words; the one who embodies every tenet of his people's faith, only to reject everything that faith stood for.

Mydeimos, the crown prince of Castrum Kremnos, and Mydei, just the warrior of Okhema.

The man that you are. ❤️

One of my favorite Star Rail characters, beyond a doubt.

#honkai star rail #mydei #mydeimos #character analysis #hsr meta #amphoreus meta #so when do I get to start legally calling myself a top ten Mydei fan?#tiny bit of #phaidei #coding here #tagging so people who have the ship blocked won't have to see it #take my labor of love #I sacrificed sleep for this #I also ran a 101 fever the entire time I was writing this #because I got sick with the flu right after starting it #so if anything sounds weird #my excuse is that I was higher than a kite on over-dosed cold meds #don't @ me

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insanity6666 · 22 days ago

Text

Molten Hearts 2

Vulkan realises his mistake, and understandably panics. Luckily, you are there to help. Realisations, explanations, and conversations abound. It's Vulkans' turn to suffer a little (but it's okay).

Warnings, if any: The only one I can think of is 'I am not used to writing more heated scenes, so if it seems a little off or stilted, that's probably the reason'.

Nothing NSFW really happens. Also this one is fairly long, so enjoy that.

Part 1, Part 1.5

Vulkan was happy.

Not only had the battle been mercifully short, there had been minimal casualties. It was uncommon for the Salamanders to be called to put down rebellions, but they had been the closest to the crisis. Luckily, a strong show of their might had destroyed the rebel soldiers fighting spirit, and they had summarily surrendered, forcing their leaders to accept all the terms the Emperor had set for their continued survival and to be accepted back into the safety of the Imperium.

He was also still riding the high of you accepting his gift.

Granted, he had intended to give it to you in a more private setting, but his eagerness had gotten the better of him when he called for you right after finishing the circlet and seeing it sitting in the box had him impatient.

He had feared that, perhaps, you wouldn’t like the gift. While it seemed a common enough headwear among the women of your planet, he had realised too late that you may not prefer it. Maybe it wasn’t viable for your profession, after all standing in front of a forge or furnace for hours while wearing a piece of metal around your skull was likely unwise, or it could simply not be a style you liked.

And for a terrifying moment, that had seemed the case. When he had seen you, weaving through his workshop and greeting his sons with an easy familiarity, he had been struck again with nerves. You had been wearing your work clothes, your pulse beating loud from the exertion of your work, sweat still coating your skin and making it glisten in the glow of fire and light fixtures, your eyes bright and curious and your form at ease among giants and titans.

He had turned to neaten his tools, keeping his hands busy while he reigned in his emotions, as reminded himself that he couldn’t just scoop you up and hold you close to him to feel your heartbeat under his hands. He tried to remember the words he had practiced in his head, but the cheeky grin you sent him after your customary greeting had him forgetting himself, falling into easy conversation and banter before he even realised he had been drawn in by your presence once more.

When he had presented the gift, the words were not as grand or… poetic as he would have liked. They barely contained a fragment of what he felt for you, of what you inspired in him, but he didn’t want to overwhelm you so those -in his opinion- underwhelming words would have to suffice for the time being.

But your reaction had caused a new kind of fear to set in. It had barely been a reaction at all. You had stared, uncomprehending, as confusion, realisation, and something he couldn’t decipher crossed what he could see of your features before they smoothed into something like the mask he had seen you use in those card games you liked to play, but different and somehow worse. Because he truly could not gauge your feelings at that moment.

He thought he had done something wrong, but upon your clarification -rushed and slightly panicked though it was- he had relaxed and, admittedly, lit up as joy warmed his soul that he had successfully created something you liked. He did feel a little guilty at making you a little uncomfortable, but he was far more smug at the fact that he had given you such a grand gift by your peoples standards.

Vulkan hid that thought, refusing to let it show, and instead took in the wonder of your expression as you properly took in the token. With great force of will, instead of reaching for you, he had gently taken the circlet from its container and placed it where it belonged. The quiet, long breath you had taken sang in his ears and ignited his blood, and he had to return his hands to his sides before he slipped and did something inappropriate, such as cup your face or find other ways to draw that sound from you again.

“It’s perfect.” And oh, he had wanted to taste that smile. The closest he had allowed himself was to echo the word, enthralled by how you looked. Gentle smile, wondrous eyes, his token shining and marking you as his-

He had tensed the muscles in his hands as he cut that thought off at the head, the itch to reach out proving to be a trial of self-control. Thankfully, you had broken the tension before it could build to something even he couldn’t bear, and your declaration of needing to give him something in turn had made something in him soften.

So sweet and considerate, always. So much so, you were willing to scold and borderline challenge him in an attempt to show your care for him, and even to get him to take care of himself. While the concern wasn’t necessary, he won’t deny -at least to himself- that he drank it up like that of a man who had been lost in the desert and found a spring of cool, clean water.

He had mourned the sight of you leaving, and had weathered the disappointment of not being able to join you for that offer of sharing a drink together. However, your response had been far sweeter than any vintage.

Setting down his pen, Vulkan turned in his seat to open one of the draws of his desk and pulled out his personal dataslate to read over the message again.

Then I have something to look forward to! Be safe, Vulkan.

That sweet, unnecessary concern. Still, you worry for him, regardless of his strength and abilities. Regardless of the fact that he is a Primarch with a legion of Astartes, thousands of superhumans with capabilities, able to wield weapons and wear armour that could both reap and withstand the kind of destruction that could destroy worlds.

Yet, you still worried. Still cared. Still thought to tell him to be safe. Is it because you wanted him to return to you? Because you didn’t want to see him hurt? Does the thought of him in danger make you sick and furious, like it does him for you? Do you care for him as he does for you?

‘I hope so.’ Vulkan thought, eyes tracing the letters slowly before setting the device onto the desk, out of the way but still within view. Within reach.

He was fairly certain you had feelings for him. You were certainly attracted to him, as he had been lucky enough to pick up on your arousal on occasion; the expanded pupils and flushed cheeks of when you looked up at him after he said or did something, or the sweet scent that lingered in the air like a faint perfume, or the one time he was close enough to taste it on his tongue as he breathed in deep and your heart rate had kicked up several notches and if he had just leaned down a little more he could have-

‘Stop it.’ He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and rubbing his eyes as he leaned back in his chair. While there was certainly a mutual physical attraction, Vulkan wanted the romantic attraction to be mutual as well. He had no concern of if they would be a match, as you and him had become good friends long before his feelings had begun to change, and even when they had disagreements they were able to sit down and talk it out, their ‘fights’ rarely lasted more than a few days- and even that was mostly because they had to attend to their duties and needed some time to let cooler heads prevail, or to seek advice and council on occasion.

When he had realised his feelings for you had turned from platonic to romantic, he knew he had to be careful. If you didn’t return his feelings, while it would hurt, he would respect it and hope he could still keep your friendship if nothing else. No, his greatest concern was whether or not you would feel comfortable accepting or rejecting his feelings. He was painfully aware of the power-imbalance, just in rank alone. Everything else was… well, it certainly didn’t help.

‘And neither does sitting here, worrying about it’ Vulkan thought as he rolled his shoulders and focused again on the paperwork that needed to be done. Reports to be read, questions to be answered, plans to be made. In the quiet of his office, he focused on the most important documents, but even as he read and wrote and signed and took in whatever information he needed, a small part of his mind continued to gnaw at the thought of you.

After you had left his workshop, his sons had congratulated him, which had been a relief in and of itself. The fact that his legion approved of his choice and supported him in this, was a gift he cherished. However, he hadn’t let himself celebrate too much, and even as his focus turned to war he had already begun to plan what to make next.

He already had several ideas, already drawn up a few sketches, but your reaction had been informative. Less gems, more engravings and filigree, inlaid metal and perhaps precious stones to add colour and enhance the overall design. Or a more practical gift would be warranted now, he had noticed some of your work gloves were beginning to show wear and tear. He could also make you a small set of armour, light but sturdy, to better protect you when you joined him and his sons out on the field to witness their actions and record their deeds. He knew Ek’ran, one of his sons who had become particularly close with a remembrancer named Mitzi, was already working on a set for her. It was a good idea, and one he may use.

But more than gifts, Vulkan had a plan. He wanted to woo you, to show his devotion to you, prove his capabilities beyond warcraft and that he was the best match for you. He knew that your people valued skilled labour, your peoples guilds and trades expanded beyond your home planet and even beyond the system. He distinctly remembers, earlier in his acquaintanceship with you, a mother scolding her daughter for wanting to court a man who had no craft, or had not chosen a craft yet if he inferred the details correctly. In that regard, at least, he knew he was more than capable.

The circlet was but the first, and it wouldn’t be the only type of offering he made to you. He had been looking over recipes to try and recreate, he had long since begun taking notice you and your preferences; he paid attention to the types of fabrics and colours you preferred, and in what tones and hues, the kinds of scents you liked, the food and flavours you enjoyed -though he saw, with a small bit of pride, that you seemed to enjoy Nocturnean cuisine- and what temperatures you were comfortable in. Dozens of other little notes and details he noticed about you.

The way you could convey an entire sentence with just a single expression, the way you would try to hide your laughter when you thought it might not be appropriate, the way your grinned more than you smiled but both were worn freely and easily on your lips, the way you expressed yourself, the intense focus in the eyes as you worked your craft, how gentle you were with the young, the old and the injured, how much you cared about others and how much more you cared for those close to you, how fierce you could be when the situation called for it.

He set aside a stack of newly signed documents, and pulled a set of reports that needed to be reviewed. Idly, Vulkan decided he should probably make you a new set of gloves. The armour would take time and he needed to settle on a design before anything else.

It was as he came to this decision that his personal device dinged. Immediately, he reached over to grab it so he could read the message. He couldn't help the smile when he saw you had sent him a message.

Hope I’m not interrupting anything important. Do you have some free time?

Likely it was about that offer of a drink. He sent a quick reply and set it aside to focus back on work, now eager to get as much done as he could before you arrived.

I do. I am currently in my office.

Another ding.

Good. I’ll be there a bit.

He felt a little ridiculous, being so excited for your arrival. Even as he worked through the paperwork with efficient focus, he kept his ears trained for any sound that would announce your arrival.

That didn’t stop him from perking up when he heard your footsteps and the polite little knocks on his door.

“Come in.” He called as he set his work aside, eager to give you his full attention. He turned to you when the door slid open and you stepped inside, it closed behind you with a quiet hiss a moment later. He had a flash moment of disappointment you weren’t wearing the circlet, but it was quickly forgotten when he noticed… you.

While you smiled as you greeted him, the smile didn’t reach your eyes, and they barely settled on him before shifting elsewhere. Your body was tense, and you were tangling your fingers together in a nervous habit. Everything about you screamed ‘anxious’.

He felt his joy burn away into worry.

“Are you alright? Did something happen?” He asked calmly. He had to be calm, but his worries nagged at him. Were you injured? The medical report said you had only minor injuries, so much so your visit to the medicae had only lasted a few short minutes. It couldn’t be that, you weren’t foolish enough to try and hide a serious injury. Was someone bothering you? That would explain the body language. If you were being harassed Vulkan would ensure the offending party would never be on the same ship as you, let alone the same room, it didn’t matter who it was.

A terrible thought washed over him like a Fenrisian avalanche: Did you not like his gift?

‘Was it too much, after all?’ He thought, the beginnings of that new and different fear starting to boil up into the beginnings of panic. ‘Did it make you uncomfortable? Did you feel obligated to accept it? Did I make you uncomfortable?’ The idea squeezed at his hearts like an icy fist.

“No, no. I’m alright.” You said immediately, walking over to stand a polite distance from his desk. Irrationally, he hated his desk at that moment. It was now a wall between the two of you, like you needed a physical barrier, like you needed distance from him. Protection from him.

“Are you, really?” He asked, trying not to let his emotions show. Yet, as always, you saw something. No matter how well he hid his thoughts or how thoroughly he built his walls, you were able to see through it all. You saw him.

Just as he was able to see you.

You cringed at his words, your eyes falling again to the floor as you struggled with whatever was in that wonderful mind of yours. He was just beginning to become truly concerned when you took a deep breath and looked at him, determined but clearly still nervous. You opened your mouth, then closed his, a frustrated noise leaving you as you rubbed the back of your neck. Another habit that spoke volumes of how much you were struggling with this.

“Whatever it is that is causing you such distress, you can tell me. I swear, I will do what I can to ease this burden.” He spoke the words easily, but with a conviction that seemed to ease you, at least a little.

“It’s not a burden.” You say almost immediately, almost offended, but give him a waned smile regardless. Then your eyes wander again.

A beat passes.

“Okay.” You sigh to yourself. “Okay.” You straighten and look at him once more. Your brilliant eyes convey a myriad of emotions. He hates how fear is so prominent in them while you look at him in this moment.

“The gift you gave me… the circlet.” You began.

‘I knew it.’ He despaired.

“If it is not to your liking, I can make something else.” The words escaped him before he even realised they had formed, he began to rise out of his seat, but you raised your hands.

“No! No! That’s not it! Not exactly. Please, let me explain.” You look almost pained, but the beginnings of a blush dusting over your cheeks suggested something else. Vulkan, obligingly, sat back down as he tried to understand what was the problem and how he could undo whatever damage he may have caused.

He was starting to suspect he was missing something very important.

“My apologies.” He said, his mind a whirlwind of theories and anxieties.

You gave a nod, then continued.

“The circlet is… well, it’s not really a gift given freely. Among friends.” You say the words slowly, as though trying to set them in place to build upon them later. “It’s a very… intimate gift.” You try again, sigh and rub at your eyes. You mutter something that sounds suspiciously like ‘rip it off like a bandage’ which it not something you should do-

“A circlet is given with the intent of marriage, Vulkan.” You state, looking straight at him.

He stares at you as his mind stalls, every flicker and spark of thought dying out as it’s smothered by your words.

“Marriage.” He echoes, unable to conjure any other word. Or thought.

“Yes. You… by my culture, you proposed.” You explain, shifting as your voice wavers.

The shock wears off as realisation sets in.

‘No. No, no, no, no!’ Vulkan stood so fast his char toppled over, he had a moment of regret when you flinched at the sudden noise and movement. He couldn’t linger on that for more than a moment, however.

Everything was ruined.

‘I can fix this. I can fix this. I can fix this.’ He chanted as he rushed around his desk and dropped to his knees at your side. His plans, his hopes, his hearts, all destroyed because he was a fool who didn’t think to check, to do even a modicum of research, to ask anyone. His eagerness had blinded him and made him reckless, and now look at what he had done.

You must have felt terrified. Being proposed to by a Primarch. How could you have refused? How could you have done anything other than allow him to force you into an engagement you possibly didn’t want? You didn’t say anything, but how could you? Did you assume he knew? You didn’t say ‘yes’ but you didn’t refuse his gift. Of course you didn’t refuse his gift. You couldn’t refuse him. Even if you suspected he had no knowledge of your people's customs. Did you accept knowing he didn’t mean it? That his intention did not match what the circlet symbolises? How did that make you feel? Did it do more than just make you uncomfortable? Did he hurt you?

“I didn’t know.” He forces the words out past the pain in his chest and the lump in his throat, as he gently takes your hands in his and turns you towards him. “I swear I didn’t know, but that is no excuse. I am so sorry for putting you in an uncomfortable situation like that.”

Did he ruin everything? Did he burn away any chances at asking for your hand? Had he managed to lose your friendship? Surely, they could recover from this. Things would be a little awkward, but with some time and caution they could go back to how things were. This was just a snag in your relationship, he hadn’t wrecked everything, surely? It might make actually proposing a little difficult, but he could plan around that later. He just needed to fix this now.

“I know.” He hates how small you sound, how quiet your voice is. He wants to pull you closer, erase all the pain and doubt in your eyes. He hates how he is the one that caused it. “I know you weren’t aware. You wouldn’t have given me the circlet otherwise.”

Oh, he would. He would have. Not so soon, but he would have given it to you properly. He would have proposed properly. He doesn’t like the way you worded it, though. He doesn’t like the crack of heartbreak he caught in your voice. The implication of it makes hope billow in his chest, filling his heart as his breath fills his lungs. He also realises the perilousness of this conversation. If he isn’t careful, you may think he doesn’t care for you, doesn’t love you, and that you may stymie any feelings you have for him. It is early, perhaps too soon entirely, but he will not risk losing you like that.

“Not like that.” He admits, quieter than he intended, but he lets himself be vulnerable. Your eyes snap up to stare into his own, and while doubt still lingers at the edges, he can see the understanding shining there. He also sees the embers of hope beginning to spark into a small, burning flame.

“Vulkan?” He doesn’t know what you ask, but he nods, willing to give you anything, everything. He has already placed his hearts in your hands, everything else is yours.

Your eyes search his, his face, and finally settle on your joined hands. He watches as you take a deep breath…

And place your heart in his hands.

“If I had the choice, I would choose you. Accidentally or otherwise.” The smile you send up at him is so shy, the hope of your eyes engulfed in the genuine love he sees shining there. A thrill runs through him at your words, and he has to take a fortifying breath to control himself. To stop himself from simply picking you up and indulging in every impulse he has smothered since he met you.

“Truly?” He could not force the smile from his face if the Emperor commanded it. He opens his knees and tugs you closer, and you follow with such a natural ease, standing between his thighs, he has to smother another impulse entirely at the sight.

“Truly.” He catches as your eyes dip, settling on his lips.

Vulkan leaned down as one of his hands moved to your chin, gently guiding so he could finally taste your smile. He was delighted in how you not only allowed it, but moved to meet him.

Your smile was as sweet and soft as you were.

While the kiss itself was chaste, barely a soft brush of lips against each other, it lit a fire in him. He pulled back a little with the intent to steady himself, because he would not have his first time with you on the floor of his office, but was caught off guard when you grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and followed to close that scant distance and capture his lips with your own.

You were firmer than he had been, your mouth pressing against his with clear intent, your hand releasing the fabric to reach up and around to settle on the back of his neck, intent on keeping him there. Right where you wanted him. He can’t deny the little gasp of surprise at your boldness, especially when you took advantage like any good warrior, your lips parted and he felt something wet and firm slip past his.

The quiet moan you let out broke him out of his surprise. Shifting for a better angle, he pressed his tongue against yours, sliding and twisting as he figured out what he needed to do to bring out that sweet sound again. His hand cupped both the side of your neck and head, his fingers curling around to give him more control as he pushed forward, invading your mouth. Heat was rapidly flowing through his blood and making his head hazy, the wet sounds the two of you were making only made that heat begin to sink low in his gut.

You surprised him again when, not only did you not try to push back, but pulled him forward as your free hand slid up his arm to grip at his shoulder. Then, distracted as he tried to find the best spot to place his own free hand on your body- you sucked on his tongue.

The sound that was pulled from him was as shocking as the bolt of pleasure that went straight to his groin. He bowed forward, his hips twitching as he pulled you against him, the squeak of surprise was muffled by the moan he let out at the feel of your body pressed to his. The smell of your arousal had him shuddering, even as he lapped at your mouth, even as you continued to suck and lick and drive him mad with what your clever tongue was doing. The haze in his mind seemed to fill him entirely, he was dizzy yet focused all at once. He burned for you, and he would gladly let this fire consume him.

His hands began to wander, exploring and unable to settle in one place. Your body was soft and strong and even with the barrier of clothes, was able to elicit delicious reactions from you. More, he wanted more. No, he needed it. More of your sounds, your smell, the way you pushed against him and held him and you. He needed more of you.

Too soon, you pushed at his shoulders as you began to pull away. He allowed it, but didn’t let you go far. He opened his eyes -when did he close them?- to see you panting, face flushed and eyes blown so wide only a thin sliver of colour remained. He became painfully aware of how confining his trousers were in that moment, he could only hope his tunic shirt helped hide his desperation.

‘Control.’ Vulkan told himself, determined to master himself and let you recover. His eyes tracked a bubble of saliva on your chin, and his tongue followed a moment later. The taste of your skin made a rumbling noise rise from his chest, and continued along your jaw, alternating between licks and kisses as he made his way from your jawline to your neck. The surprised little ‘ah!’ that escaped you when he gently sucked on the side of your neck, right where your pulse was hammering against his lips, only added fuel to the fire.

“Vulkan.” You breathed his name, and his grip on you tightened. “We… we still need to talk.” You moaned, still holding onto him like your life depended on it. You were right, he knew you were right. He just couldn’t let you go. He nuzzled into your shoulder. The effect you had on him…

“Vulkan.” There was humour in your voice now. He took a deep breath, filling all three of his lungs with you, and with more strength than he wants to admit, pulled away to sit back on his heels. He still kept his hands wrapped around your waist and hips, keeping you standing between his knees, and you rested your hands against his forearms, perfectly at ease where you were. Comfortable, like it was natural for you to be there.

He had to take another fortifying breath, to keep from pulling you in and stealing another long kiss. He reminded himself he would not take you on the floor of his office.

“Right. Yes. The circlet.” He was present enough to be embarrassed by how he seems to have lost his eloquence. “How do we… resolve that? I do not wish to put you in a compromising position.”

��Well, that’s disappointing.” He stared in shock as your cheeks flushed with renewed colour, clearly realising what you just said. He couldn’t help the chuckle as you hid your face with your hands. “That wasn’t meant to come out. I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He said, smiling down at you as a milder warmth hummed under his skin. “I like hearing that you want me. Though maybe not in front of others. Those words, and the sweet sounds you made, are for me.” Unbidden, his voice dropped an octave. The thought of someone else, anyone, hearing you, knowing what you sound like when in the throes of pleasure, sounds he draws from you, makes something dark in mind snarl and writhe with simmering fury.

He is soothed by the way your expression slackens slightly, and the shiver that runs through you that he feels through his hands. He breathes in the scent of your arousal, tasting it on his tongue and the synapses in his mind begin firing, another rumble in his chest at the thought of going straight to the source-

“Distracted.” You say suddenly, snapping him out of his thoughts. “We keep getting distracted. You are very distracting.”

Vulkan can’t help the laugh that bubbles up from his throat, “I’m afraid you are just as guilty as I am, my treasure.” He delights in the bashful smile that graces your features at the endearment. It hadn’t been intentional, it had fallen from his lips naturally. Because it was the truth. You were his dearest treasure.

“Yes. Well. Yes. The situation with the circlet.” That sobered him, slightly, and he focused his attention on the matter at hand. Most of it. His eyes still trailed over you, a little. “Nobody saw me wearing the circlet, at least no one from my home planet. Mitzi knows, though.” At your sigh, Vulkan suspects it wasn’t exactly by your choice, and made a mental note to ask about it later, “I explained what happened. She may have threatened bodily harm upon you for toying with my heart’, though” The smile you sent him was rueful and affectionate.

“I would have let her.” He speaks the words easily. He really would have, knowing he had caused you such distress.

“Vulkan!” You sound more concerned than scandalised, but he sends you a reassuring smile nonetheless.

“Mitzi is a loyal friend, and while she is spirited she is no fool. The fact she is willing to do so, even if only in theory, is admirable. I would also deserve it.”

You make an unhappy noise, but don’t otherwise disagree.

“Okay. Yes. True. Now, she won’t say anything, of course. So there shouldn’t be any rumours of a sudden engagement or anything like that… at least for now.” You add, shifting in his hands which was… distracting.

“That’s good, it will give us some breathing room and time to figure out how we wish to proceed.” He said the words, but his mind was not on any topic of ‘how to proceed’. Except on how to proceed to his private quarters, which suddenly seemed far too distant from his office. “In regards to our ‘engagement’-”

“Marriage.”

He blinked down at you.

“What?”

You made an expression somewhere between embarrassed and pleased, even as you suddenly seemed unable to hold his gaze.

“Due to the… ah, quality of the circlet, it could also be considered a marriage diadem. So, you kind of skipped ‘courting’ and ‘engaged’ and went straight to ‘wife.’” You admit, gesturing a little as you went to help convey exactly how much tradition and propriety he had jumped past.

“We’re… married?”

“Essentially, by the traditions of my people. While most wouldn’t consider it a legitimate marriage, it’s more in name than anything else. It’s still pretty significant, and you did physically put the circlet on me, in front of witnesses, and I did accept in front of those witnesses.” You rambled a little, only to trail off as you stared up at him. He can’t imagine what he must look like, or the expression he’s wearing.

“My wife.”

He shouldn’t be so pleased by this. It was entirely accidental. This whole situation is a mess. He should have done it properly, but he finds he can’t complain much as it means you are now tied to him, however loosely. All he needs to do is make sure you want this and then he can court your properly, and as long as you're comfortable with it you are keeping the diadem and staying as his traditionally-accepted wife.

He caught the heated look you sent him, before a mischievous gleam shone in your eyes.

“I am your wife, but you are not my husband.” You announce slyly, then tack on a quick “technically” as if that’s supposed to soften the blow.

“What? Why? You are my wife, of course I am your husband.” How could he not be? What did he miss? Did he not say the right words?

Before he could begin to spiral, he felt your fingers lightly trail over one of his arms as you stepped out of his hold but closer to him. Focusing on his wrist for a few moments, then trailing up to his bicep, the touch feather light but all his awareness had zeroed in on your touch.

“You aren’t wearing anything.” You say simply, voice idle but he could clearly tell you were enjoying this. “Men wear cuffs around the biceps or wrists to symbolise their commitment. A thinner one for engagement, and the thicker one for marriage. It is largely personal preference where on the arm they choose, or if they have just the one or one of each arm, but one's profession may also play a part in it. Usually the circlet and cuffs are made in tandem, often commissioned by a close friend or family member if they're a craftsman, but there are smiths who specialise in marriage bands. Of course, doing it yourself is also acceptable, though usually a design is agreed upon before the actual engagement, usually during the later half of the courting period.” You lean forward to nip at the skin of his bicep, looking up with a look that was a little chastising, but the softness of your gaze gave it no real bite.

“Ah.” Is all he can say for a long moment, feeling the sting nonetheless. “Is the design not to your liking?”

Your resulting laugh is a balm to his soul, and as you rest your head upon his arm, looking up at him with such affection, trusting him to hold your barely-there weight as you lean against him, he feels endlessly blessed by all that you are, all that you do and all you have given him in this moment.

“I love it. Not only is it a perfect blend of our cultures, it’s a perfect blend of us. I’m only upset that I can’t openly wear it right now.” You sigh, nuzzling into him a little and he has to control the urge not to crush you against him, instead just wrapping an arm around you in a loose hug.

“And how can we make it so you can?” He asked, his mind already conjuring potential designs for his own marriage bands, they would have to flat if he wants to wear them under his armour. He could change sections of his armour to add a ring design around the biceps, it would be aesthetic so it would be easy enough to do.

“Marrying me properly would probably be best.” You tease, “You’ll need to announce your intent to court me to my family. Of course you also need to go through Mitzi, as she’s a sister in all but blood.”

“Of course.” He agrees easily, knowing Mitzi would likely be the biggest hurdle in getting their relationship accepted by your family. He’ll need to do some research, this time, and maybe your friend can give him advice.

“And you?”

“Hm?”

“What are Nocturnean courting traditions?” You asked, looking up at him curiously.

Vulkan had a moment of panic as the image of you hunting a drake for him flashed through his mind. Granted that’s something the more martially skilled would do, but he has no doubts you would try if someone so much as mentioned it to you. You could be very determined.

“We’ll talk about that later, for now I want to learn more about your ways. It seems only fair.” He tries to divert the conversation, trying to figure out what Nocturnean courting traditions you can take part in that won’t risk your health and safety. And also how to make sure you never find out about the more dangerous ones. He loves his planet and his people, but he did not expect the fact he comes from a death world to complicate his love life quite in this way.

Busy as he was, thinking of ways to keep you safe while allowing you to take part in his people's culture, he missed the knowing look that crossed over your features before you allowed the subject to be changed.

It’s fine. You’ll just have to ask his sons more about what you had read later. For now, as the two of you talked, you both just basked in the moment, with being with each other.

The future is unknown, but they are certain.

***

@incrediblethirst, @kit-williams, @beckyninja, @bleedingichorhearts, @jaghatai-khock, @pluvio-tea, @moodymisty, @thethronezone, @iluminatka16, @runin64

#Vulkan #Vulkan x Reader #Warhammer 40k #Warhammer 40k romance #No beta but I did do a quick read-over but if there are any mistakes... bleh.#Suffer and enjoy!#it has been a long time since I wrote anything like a make-out scene #hope I did it justice #I manage to throw this out in two bursts of creative frenzy #Also waaaay longer than I thought it would be but I'm not complaining

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acheronsociety · 1 month ago

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✶ BURNING, TRAITOROUS SUN

summary: they say the muses abandoned olympus. what they don’t say is why. some claimed betrayal. others whispered that a god particularly feared their power more than any titan… but they didn’t die—they ran. disguised in mortal skin, hiding from the gods they once inspired. now the primordials have built the veil, a trap dressed as a game, and three have been caught. hunted. suspected. desired by the ones who should’ve protected them. and the games have only just begun.

MODT MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

pairing: apollo x f!reader (thalia) word count: 1975 content warning: angst ✶ mentions of blood, torture, daggers and lots of distrust a/n: this is the second drabble of the series "muses of drowned truths" and each god will be paired with a muse, so this means you will be assuming a muse form while reading (hopefully you like them as much as me) !

𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒔 of the Veil were never silent. They pulsed—alive—with the murmurs of the damned, a chorus of misery threading like smoke through stone. But tonight, one sound split the gloom. A scream. Raw. Familiar.

Your breath hitched. You knew that voice.

Melpomene.

You pressed yourself to the cell wall, cheek brushing ice-cold stone as you strained to hear more. The scream fell into a whimper. Then—nothing. Silence like a held breath. Dread twisted in your gut. What have they done to you, Mel?

Footsteps broke the stillness, each one sharp, deliberate. You melted into the shadows, heart thudding against your ribs like a warning drum. A towering figure strode past your cell—Hades. His face unreadable marble, but his fists were clenched and his eyes, oh gods, they burned. Straight toward the chamber Melpomene had been dragged to.

He knows. The thought sank in your chest like a stone in deep water. But does he know who she is?

Hades never looked twice at the Muses. But something in Mel always lured his wrath. And she—well, she was never one to back down either.

Before you could spiral, another sound stirred the still air. Footsteps again—lighter, smoother. They stopped. Right outside your cell.

The door creaked open. And there he was.

Even dimmed by the Veil, he radiated. Broad shoulders filling the space. Gold spun into hair that gleamed like tarnished sunlight. You’d know that silhouette in any world.

Apollo.

"Zeus sent me," he said, voice honeyed silk with a frayed edge—danger hiding in velvet. "He believes I can extract the information we need without... unnecessary methods. If Athena keeps at it, not one of you will last much more here."

Your eyes narrowed, fury blooming in your chest like a poison flower—but under that, betrayal prickled. Your heart somersaulted. Mel had been tortured. The confirmation was a knife to the gut. “And what if I have nothing to say?"

A ghost of a smile played on his lips—those lips you used to dream of in secret. "Then we'll have to get creative."

He extended his hand. You didn’t move. Stayed glued to the stone floor, trembling just enough that it made your pride hurt. Rage licked at the edges of your restraint, but grief choked it, thick and sour.

He didn’t flinch at the rejection. Just crossed the room and knelt.

The golden god, divine and dreadful, sank to the cell floor without hesitation. His knees brushed yours. Electricity sparked in the air between your skin.

“It’s not safe to talk here,” he murmured, so close your breath caught. “Come with me…please.”

You should’ve spit in his face. Mel would’ve. The you from before would have. But your body betrayed you. You rose. Let him take your wrist in his warm, god-forged grip. Light as silk. Firm as iron.

You hated that it felt like home.

Once, you had been his closest friend, his closest ally. And him, your sun-soaked secret. You remembered too well the curve of his throat, the shadow beneath his jaw, the way golden hair spilled over his lashes like a curtain hiding sins. And his lips—those damned lips—always curled into a smirk, always playing at truths you never dared to speak.

With a snap of his fingers, you were elsewhere and your mind back at the dangers before you.

The temple was ghosted in time. Ivy strangled marble columns. Fireflies bobbed like trapped stars. A cracked pool reflected the moon’s melancholy. It would’ve been beautiful—if you weren’t wondering whether you’d been led here to die.

“What is this place?” you asked, voice guarded, steps careful.

Apollo sparked flame to life with a flick—his long fingers. Your traitorous fingers remembered them too.

“I needed a place the gods don’t look anymore. This used to be the Temple of Liriope. Now it’s forgotten.” His eyes flicked over you, lingered too long, then darted away. “Like most sacred things.”

You hated that his voice could wrap around words like a spell. Like you were sacred.

You turned, pretending interest in the nearest column just to escape the weight of his gaze. Your thoughts darted like trapped birds—was this a trick? Were you still in the Veil?

Apollo was no butcher. But that didn’t mean he was safe. Even the sun burns and eclipses. Maybe he was here to stab a knife to your back at Zeus' request.

You tensed when he stepped close behind you—closer than he should. You felt the heat of his chest through your spine. Every hair on your body rose.

You tensed. Braced for pain as the fight was slowly sucked away from your veins.

But it wasn’t a knife you felt. Instead, his breath grazed your ear.

“There’s something here that might help you,” he said, voice pitched low, intimate. “The glamour you’re wearing—it’s good. But not good enough. Athena's already suspicious. One more interrogation like Mel's…”

You flinched.

He saw. Of course he did. He always did.

He moved to face you, his hands hovering, hesitating like they remembered you but didn’t dare touch. “Thalia,” he whispered, voice cracking around your name. “I didn’t know what they planned for her. I didn’t.”

You shook your head, fighting past the surprise of hearing your name slip past his lips with such certainty. “But you know what they planned for me.”

A breathless beat passed.

“I’m supposed to hurt you.”

The words felt surreal. Too cruel. Too soft. Suspended between your lips and his.

You stared at him. “And why didn’t you already?”

“I can’t,” he said, voice rough now, unraveled. His golden hair fell in front of those storm-lit eyes. “I won’t.”

Your hand twitched, traitorous again. You wanted to touch his face, to press your fingers into the golden halo of his hair and pull. Pull it like you have always wanted to but never did. As if closeness could erase centuries. As if desire could undo betrayal.

But you didn’t move.

He looked at you like no glamour could hide you from him. Like he knew you. Down to the marrow.

For a heartbeat, neither of you moved.

Then you stepped back. Laughed. Bitter, brittle. “So what now? You go back empty-handed? Zeus will love that.”

“No.” His jaw clenched. “We have to make it look like I did something. Bruises. Blood. Pain. Something Athena can smell and not question.”

You inhaled sharply. “And you want me to beg you to make it look real, is that it? Wow—” You spun, fury igniting like oil on fire. “Don’t assume me so naive to not understand what you’re doing here, Apollo. A cruel joke is what this is. For me to beg for my own torture.”

You stepped into his space, your anger a shield, a blade, a crown. You might’ve been much shorter, but gods, you towered.

Apollo didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. He drank it in.

His rich and sun-warm brown eyes didn’t break away from yours. He stood still, a god gilded in restraint, letting your fury crash into him like a wave against stone. Any other god might’ve barked back, punished the audacity of your insolence. But not him. He just… took it. Silently. Like he deserved it.

For the moment, you were a burning star, and he had always been too fond of burning, you knew that.

“No,” he said again, but softer now. His voice slipped into the quiet like a bruise blooming beneath skin. “I just want you to let me help.”

It wasn’t pleading. It wasn’t begging. It was broken. His eyes searched yours—something wild and wounded flickering in their depths—and then he turned, the golden weight of him retreating into the temple. He didn’t check to see if you’d follow. Maybe he already knew.

You stepped inside Liriope’s temple a heartbeat later.

There was no point in pretending you’d ever run from him. You’d seen what waited in the Veil. And despite the simmering ache in your chest, you still felt safer near Apollo’s warmth than swallowed by that endless dark.

Even if you hated yourself for it.

He stood by the basin at the temple’s center, silver light pouring over him like it worshipped him. You watched the line of his throat move as he swallowed. His gaze dragged up your body like a hand, slow and unrepentant. Heat licked at the edges of your spine.

The glamour shimmered in the water, moonlight made liquid. Ancient magic stirred in the air, heavy with something old and hungry. Apollo cleared his throat, bending low beside it, and the fabric of his white loose shirt stretched over his back like a sin begging to be touched.

“This will hide you better,” he said, voice taut. “It will make your soul quieter to the gods. But there’s a blood price for the one who’ll use it…”

He looked up. And for once, the sun wasn’t shining in his eyes. Just shadow. Just guilt.

“I can’t do it. I can’t hurt you.”

You snorted and shoved your hand forward. “So I’ll do it. Give me a dagger, anything.”

He blinked, startled—like you’d slapped him and he liked it. “Thalia—”

“Unless you think I’m too fragile to bleed for myself.”

“No,” he said, voice cracking on the edge of something unspoken. “I just… never mind.”

His jaw locked. His shoulders squared, tension rippling through him like a storm threatening to break. You watched the slow arc of his hand through the air, golden light curling around his fingers, folding inward until a dagger coalesced like fire summoned from a dream.

He held it like it hurt him.

His chest heaved, and his grip turned white-hot around the hilt. You reached for it, fingertips brushing the inside of his palm—warm, calloused, trembling. But he didn’t let go.

You yanked it from him anyway.

As you raised the blade to your arm, you saw him move. Pacing. Back turned. But his breathing was uneven—like it pained him not to touch you. Each inhale a stutter. Each exhale laced with helplessness.

You bit down on your sleeve.

And dragged the dagger through your skin.

A vicious gash bloomed. Red spilled down your wrist, crimson and sacred. The glamour in the basin screamed to life, magic roaring through your veins like fire swallowing oxygen. You screamed too—ragged, raw—just before the blade clattered to the floor.

You were falling.

But you never hit the ground.

Apollo caught you.

Warmth. Arms like iron wrapped in silk banded around your ribs, your waist. His voice pressed against your ear like a secret he shouldn’t tell. “It’s ok, you’re going to be ok,” he whispered, rocking you gently, mouth grazing the shell of your ear. “It’s done, sweetheart. You’re ok.”

You hated how sweet that word tasted coming from him.

His scent—sun-soaked cedar and late summer storms—coiled around your senses. Your eyelids fluttered. “Don’t heal it,” you rasped, every word a fight. The magic was dragging you under, each heartbeat slower than the last.

His lips touched your temple, featherlight. A kiss or a farewell—you weren’t sure. He squeezed your side, too soft, too careful for a god of such intensity.

That touch… kept you tethered.

“Why are you helping me?” you whispered, your voice a thread unraveling in the dark.

He paused.

Then his thumb—light as a breath—brushed beneath your breast, slow and reverent. You sucked in a gasp, your lungs trembling against the weight of his hand.

“Because I remember who you are when you’re not pretending,” he said. His voice was low, almost broken. “And I don’t want them to erase her.”

You turned your face toward him, just enough to meet his eyes.

The lie you’d been ready to spit at him dissolved on your tongue.

But you didn’t say you trusted him.

And that silence?

That silence hurt him more than any dagger ever could.

#greek mythology #greek gods au #greek gods x reader #apollo #apollo x reader #apollo x you #apollo smut #x reader #muses of drowned truths

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bunabi · 3 months ago

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i was honestly so curious to see more of mythal because the idea of "the best of the evanuris" as per solas (notable hater) is so interesting. like he was her lackey for ages, had her vallaslin, she also killed titans and kept slaves and didn't really do anything to stop the other evanuris' excesses... but he still saw her as a respectable figure. and flemythal in dai seemed to not begrudge him for rebelling either. like it's so common in politics for somewhat well intentioned people to slide into "well if i lose this power, a bad person might get it! so i'll just hold onto it forever and not rock the boat, i'll only make very small changes" which was the impression i got from mythal. whereas solas eventually gave up on Elvhen Voter Reform and started running an insurgency instead.

i thought that was really interesting as a concept, especially since it's so rare to see women in those types of morally complex roles. and she clearly tipped over into more vengefulness after being betrayed, which is neat too! but oof. in veilguard she either comes off as ordering solas to do all his crimes that he's then guilt ridden for, (even the ones like forging weapons, smh, he's stealing june's job!!) or as the most generically bland person.

Yeah it's too bad. It feels like they were going somewhere having Flemeth appear in three games and drop ominous lines. I don't think we got the intended conclusion to her story.

#replies #dav spoilers #veilguard spoilers

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twohitgames · 9 months ago

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SMITE 2 estrenará un nuevo sistema de emparejamiento

Titan Forge Games ha revelado un sistema de emparejamiento específico para MOBA completamente nuevo que llegará a SMITE 2. Los jugadores experimentarán una experiencia de juego más equilibrada y agradable poco después de que el juego entre en su fase alfa cerrada el próximo 27 de agosto. “El sistema de emparejamiento de SMITE 2 ha sido reconstruido desde cero y busca incorporar 10 años de…

#ICO Partners #PC #SMITE 2 #Steam #Titan Forge Games

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titanomancy · 11 months ago

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The Reaver has been delivered, bringing another Titan build to a close. Total time spent, 64 days.

#games workshop #forge world #warhammer 40k #collegia titanica #chaos #chaos reaver titan #commission #delivered

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foandgeld · 1 year ago

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Old City Watch

A combined gang of City Watch from defective products

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goldenarmyofficial · 3 months ago

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🏆 SUPER BOWL SHOWDOWN: GOLDEN KNIGHTS VS. EMERALD TITANS – THE ULTIMATE BATTLE FOR SUPREMACY 🏆

An Exclusive Pre-Game Analysis by Gridiron Insider

This is it. The moment we’ve all been waiting for.

After a season of blood, sweat, and bone-crushing plays, the Golden Knights and the Emerald Titans are set to collide in a Super Bowl matchup for the ages.

Both teams have trained harder than ever, pushed their limits beyond expectation, and forged themselves into titans of the game. Every pass, tackle, and strategic move has led to this moment. Now, under the blinding lights of the superbowl stage, they will battle for the right to be called the greatest team.

Two elite teams. One historic night. No second chances.

Captain Xander and Captain Brody are ready to face each others

Who will seize victory and who will crumble under the pressure?

Let’s break down the starting lineups, team strengths, and key matchups in what promises to be a legendary clash of unstoppable forces.

🔥 GOLDEN KNIGHTS: THE RELENTLESS WARRIORS OF GOLD 🔥

The Golden Knights arrive with one of the most disciplined and physically dominant squads in Super Bowl history. Under the guidance of Captain Brody Gold (#11), the team is a perfect blend of precision, aggression, and brotherhood.

Gold's Defense : Trevor, #52, Eddy #73 and Brock #46

What sets the Knights apart is their unity and execution. With Maximus fully integrated into Football Drone Mode, every player is a piece of a flawless machine, moving with surgical accuracy and ruthless efficiency.

🔨 Strengths:

✔ Unbreakable Offensive Line: Led by Maximus (#70), the Knights' protection unit is impenetrable—a fortress of gold and black standing between Brody and the Titans’ relentless rush. ✔ Defensive Destruction: Hercules (#28) and Ares (#29) are twin wrecking balls in the linebacker corps, ready to crush anything in their path. ✔ Strategic Genius: Brody’s ability to read defenses and adjust on the fly will be key to unlocking the Titans' defensive schemes. ✔ Fan Power: With Milo, Drone-Pup 151, rallying the Golden Army, the Knights will have one of the loudest and most energized stadium presences ever recorded.

⚠️ Challenges:

❌ Overcoming Titanus: The Titan defensive wall, led by Damien Raines (#97) and Marcus Vaughn (#54), will be the toughest front line Gold has faced all season. ❌ Handling the Titans’ Speed: The Titans' elite offense, fueled by Jalen Carter (#4) and DeShawn Holloway (#22), will push the Knights' defense to its absolute limit.

⭐ Key Players to Watch:

Maximus, #70, during his football drone training

🔥 Maximus (#70, OT) – The Indestructible Engine

The perfect football machine. No fatigue, no hesitation—just execution.

Every block, every push, every adjustment will be flawless.

If the Titans can’t break him, they can’t win.

🔥 Hercules (#28, MLB) – The Gamebreaker

The commanding force behind Gold’s defensive wall.

If Herc dominates the midfield, the Titans will struggle to get any offensive momentum.

🔥 Brody (#11, QB) – The Field General

The brain of the operation.

He’ll need to read the defense fast, stay cool under pressure, and take calculated risks.

🔥 Ares (#29, OLB) – The Chaos Bringer

Explosive, violent, relentless.

Will attack Xander Malone all night, trying to force bad decisions.

The Linebacker trio : Twin Herc (#28) and Ares (#29) taking the new Linebacker Roman (#30) under their wing.

🔥 Brock (#46, Defensive Safety) – The Guardian

The last line of defense.

If the Titans break through, Brock must shut them down.

🔥 Eddy "Tamerlan" (#73, DE) – The Strategist

His mental conditioning of the team has pushed the Knights beyond their normal limits.

His presence ensures the Knights maintain focus and unity.

🔥 Trevor (#52, DT) – The Immovable Wall

The anchor of the defensive line, ensuring the Titans’ running lanes stay sealed.

🔥 Grayden (#84, WR & Head Mascot) – The Wild Card

Can strike when least expected.

If the Titans ignore him, they’ll regret it.

💚 EMERALD TITANS: THE UNYIELDING GIANTS 💚

The Emerald Titans have revenge on their minds. After their last defeat at the hands of the Knights, they have trained with a singular purpose—destroying Gold and reclaiming their throne.

Led by Xander Malone (#12), their precision offense and suffocating defense make them a formidable opponent.

🔨 Strengths:

✔ Elite Quarterback Play: Xander Malone is one of the most efficient passers in the league and has the weapons to carve up Gold’s defense. ✔ Lightning-Fast Receivers: Jalen Carter (#4) can outrun nearly anyone—if he breaks into open space, Gold is in trouble. ✔ Crushing Defense: With Raines (#97) and Vaughn (#54) leading the charge, Brody will have to work for every yard.

The offensive powerhouse of Emerald Titans : Jalen (#04), DeShawn (#22) and Travis (#76)

⚠️ Challenges:

❌ Breaking Through Maximus: If Maximus holds the line, Brody will have time to pick apart the Titans’ defense. ❌ Surviving the Golden Army's Hits: The Knights’ linebackers play violently. Malone will need to make decisions in a split second. ❌ Stopping the Momentum: If Gold builds energy, Milo and the Golden Army will amplify it to an unstoppable level.

💀 KEY PLAYERS TO WATCH – EMERALD TITANS 💀

🔥 Xander "X-Factor" Malone (#12, QB) – The Precision General

Reads defenses like a machine, never rattled under pressure.

Deadly accurate passer—if given time, he will carve through the Golden defense.

Has a perfect connection with Jalen Carter (#4), a combination that has destroyed defenses all season.

🔥 Jalen "Blitz" Carter (#4, WR) – The Untouchable Speed Demon

Explosive acceleration—faster than anyone on the field.

A deep-ball nightmare—if he gets behind the defense, it’s an automatic touchdown.

If Brock can’t shut him down, Gold is in trouble.

🔥 Damien "The Fortress" Raines (#97, DT) – The Unmovable Object

A 6’5, 330-pound monster who commands the defensive line.

Demands double-teams, freeing up linebackers to attack.

If Maximus can’t handle him, Brody is going down.

🔥 Marcus "Ironclad" Vaughn (#54, MLB) – The Titan Commander

Leads the Titans' defense, calling adjustments mid-play.

Has a knack for making clutch tackles in game-changing moments.

Will be in a constant war with Chevy and Brody.

🔥 DeShawn "Tank" Holloway (#22, RB) – The Unstoppable Runner

Runs through defenders like a wrecking ball.

If he finds gaps in the line, he can wear Gold’s defense down over time.

Darius (#02) snatching another interception

🔥 Darius "The Phantom" King (#2, CB) – The Shadow in Coverage

Elite at shutting down receivers and snatching interceptions.

Always a step ahead—quarterbacks beware.

🔥 Travis "Titan" McAllister (#76, OT) – The Living Fortress

Massive, immovable protector of Xander Malone.

If he holds, the Titans’ offense thrives.

🔥 Corbin "The Sentinel" Cross (#31, FS) – The Last Line of Defense

Hard-hitting, fast, and always lurking deep.

Any risky throw could be a trap.

⚔️ MASCOT SHOWDOWN: SYMBOLS OF DOMINANCE ⚔️

🔥 GOLDEN KNIGHTS’ TRIO

🛡️ The Golden Knight: The embodiment of honor, resilience, and football glory. 🐅 Dorado, The Golden Tiger: A ferocious beast prowling the sidelines, ready to strike. (@leander-gold-88) 🐕 Milo, Drone-Pup 151: The tactical cheer commander, ensuring Gold’s fans are louder than ever. (@polo-drone-151)

Mascot face-off : Titanus vs The Golden Knight

💚 EMERALD TITANS’ TITANUS

🛡️ Titanus, The Indomitable Colossus: A towering, emerald-armored behemoth, embodying Titan strength and endurance.

🏆 FINAL VERDICT: WHO TAKES THE TITLE?

🏆 Will Gold’s precision and unity prevail? 🏆 Or will the Titans’ raw power and speed prove unstoppable?

One thing is certain: this game will be a war. Legacies will be forged. One team will rise, the other will fall.

🔥 LET HISTORY BE MADE. THE SUPER BOWL BEGINS NOW. 🔥

🔥 GOLDEN KNIGHTS ROSTER 🔥

🔥 Offense – The Golden Sword 🔥

Brody (#11) @brodygold– QB & Captain

Ezan (#1) @polo-drone-001, Grayden (#84) @polo-drone-084– Wide Receivers

Chevy (#33) @chevy-gold– Running Back & Punt Returner

Leon (#35) @leon-gold– Fullback

Maximus (#70) @polo-drone-070, Hans (#69) @polo-drone-069 – Offensive Tackles

Briar (#50) @polo-drone-050, Michael (#53) @michaelgold53– Offensive Guards

Christian (#55) @polo-drone-055– Center

Chad (#24) @chadgolden - Tight End

🛡️ Defense – The Gold Shield 🛡️

Hercules (#28) @goldenherc9– Middle Linebacker

Ares (#29) @goldengod-ares10, Roman (#30) @roman-golden-68 – Outside Linebackers

Trevor (#52) @polo-drone-125, Declan (#57) @declanthedefender – Defensive Tackles

Brock @brockgold(#46), Xavier (#39) @polo-drone-039 – Defensive Safeties

Eddy "Tamerlan" (#73) @polo-drone-073, Kaspar (#90) @kasper-90-golden– Defensive Ends

Kai (#9) @kai-gold-99, Hudson (#8) @hudsongold08 – Cornerbacks

⚡ Special Teams – The Knights' Edge ⚡

Daniel (#16) @danielgold-16– Kicker

Robert (#12) @robertgold12– Punter

Isaac (#45) @isaac-gold-45– Long Snapper

Ross (#10) @polo-drone-110– Kick Returner

💚 EMERALD TITANS FULL ROSTER 💚

The Emerald Titans have built a powerhouse team with a balance of raw strength, elite speed, and defensive grit. They are out for revenge, and every player is ready for war.

🔥 Offense – The Emerald Strike Force 🔥

Xander "X-Factor" Malone (#12) – Quarterback & Captain

Jalen "Blitz" Carter (#4), Malik "Flash" Deveraux (#17), Wallace "Swifty" Dayton – Wide Receivers

DeShawn "Tank" Holloway (#22) – Running Back

Marcus "Mack Truck" Owens (#33) – Fullback

Travis "Titan" McAllister (#76), Elliot "The Tower" Grayson (#79) – Offensive Tackles

Bryce "The Bulldozer" Langley (#65), Joaquin "Iron Grip" Santiago (#67) – Offensive Guards

Nathan "Stonewall" Pierce (#58) – Center

🛡️ Defense – The Emerald Wall 🛡️

Marcus "Ironclad" Vaughn (#54) – Middle Linebacker

Dwayne "Brickhouse" Harper (#47), Terrence "The Butcher" Gates (#44) – Outside Linebackers

Damien "The Fortress" Raines (#97), Emmanuel "The Wrecker" Cross (#94) – Defensive Tackles

Khalil "Havoc" Beckett (#91), Tyrell "The Steamroller" Ward (#99) – Defensive Ends

Darius "The Phantom" King (#2), Isaiah "Lockdown" Reed (#5) – Cornerbacks

Corbin "The Sentinel" Cross (#31) , Omar "The Hitman" Wells (#25) – Defensive Safeties

⚡ Special Teams – The Emerald Precision ⚡

Connor "Sniper" Jennings (#9) – Kicker

Rafael "Boomstick" Vargas (#19) – Punter

Derrick "No-Fumble" Benson (#43) – Long Snapper

Trey "The Jet" Simmons (#3) – Kick Returner

The match itself should arrive soon. Results have been tallied and photographs selecting their best pictures for the highlights.

To join the Gold, remember to contact @brodygold, @goldenherc9 or @polo-drone-001.

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