#phainon drabble

[recareels]

warnings: 18+ minors do not interact, fem!reader, obsession, implied rough sex (biting, hickeys, scratching, etc), implied dubcon + somnophilia words: 492

sorry but i just think phainon is insatiably, exceptionally, almost violently horny for you. it doesn’t matter how many ways he’s had you or how many times he’s pumped you full of cum (even within a single night), it is never enough to satisfy the voracious greed constantly gnawing at the pit of his stomach. he always wants—needs—more of you. 

more of your cunt, spasming around his impossibly thick cock for the umpteenth time, flooding his shaft with sweet, sticky nectar, so much that it’s glazing his thighs and pooling in the folds of his heavy balls. more of your kisses, lips and tongue and teeth scouring his body, leaving molds of your mouth etched into his skin—small collections of thirty-two tiny indents, arranged in pairs of crescents, engraving his thighs, his forearms, his shoulders; smatterings of blooming blood vessels, split open and spilling into the surrounding tissues, forming mini galaxies of blues and purples stained beneath flesh. 

more of your fingers in his hair, combing, yanking, scratching; more of his name shattering in your throat, broken by breathy gasps and pitchy moans; more of your body knotted with his—between linen sheets and beneath the warm water of the baths and behind crumbling marble columns. 

it’s so bad it borders on addiction; he’s always had incredible stamina, sure, but this is something new, this is something different. this is desire with gnashing fangs clawing at his ribs, desperate to burst free from its cage and maul its way to you.

it’s so encompassing it borders on obsession, thrashes in his chest any time you’re within his general vicinity, any time he catches a whiff of your perfume or a glimpse of you, even when you’re doing the most mundane things—especially when you’re doing the most mundane things: standing over steaming vegetables at the stove, washing plates from the night’s dinner, folding his pants and shirts on your knees.

domesticity awakens something innate and primal within him, drives him absolutely fucking wild, has a growl ripping at his throat and large hands pawing at your waist, rucking up your skirt and refusing to waste a single second with untying your apron, cock already hard and throbbing as he ruts against your ass, gliding perfectly over silk coated flesh. it’s pathetic: your panties are still on, his cock still confined to his trousers, but he swears he could cum just like this, humping away at your body in short, quick, desperate motions. it never matters how he has you, just that he has you. 

“need you,” he’s panting damply against the curve of your neck, somewhere between a snarl and a whine. “need you, now.” 

and you, his precious angel, always comply, always allow him to take, take, take, even when you’re busy, even when you’re aching, when you’re sleeping. 

it’s extreme affection in the purest sense of the word—an affliction without alleviation, a compulsion without a cure. 

[harmonysanreads]

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

Can be read as a continuation to this piece.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[crepezinhos]

Patriarchy

POV: Waking up back to the 1700s wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be when you had your best friend, Phainon, accompanying you through your new journey. Now you have the chance to begin feminism yourself! How much more advanced will society be if manage to get women equal rights by 1800 instead of 1900?! But, when you were close to getting one right in specific, Phainon’s support of you was suddenly… gone.

⚠️ WARNINGS:

— This is a Yandere SFW work

— Reader is FEMALE and uses SHE/HER pronouns

— Contains: Possessive, obsessive and abusive behavior, a bit of physical abuse, misogynistic behavior and confinement.

— Arranged!Phainon x Arranged!Reader

— AU is: 1700s Europe

“Y/N! You’re back!” Phainon screamed excitedly from the main staircase of your shared palace when he saw you standing in your mansion’s entrance, beginning to step down towards you faster than he was doing previously. “How was it on the streets today?” He asked when he finally finished climbing down and jumped off the stairs, walking towards you with his arms behind his back excitedly.

You, happy to see him too, were quick to take off your hat, jacket and accessories with the help of your lady-in-honor, staring back at Phainon’s joyful ocean-blue eyes.

“It was fine. The army resistance was surprisingly very little today so we didn’t have much trouble doing our protest.” You reciprocated his excitement, bowing to your maid in gratefulness before she could start walking away and taking your things back to your bedroom.

“That’s great to hear, Y/N!” Phainon replied, eyes shining with pure admiration of your courage. “I also have good news.” He blinked to you with a smirky grin in his lips, just waiting for you to ask him about his achievement so he could brag about whatever he’d done.

“Oh? What is it?” You crossed your arms casually, finally putting an end to the classy and formal behavior that you adapted to to follow the societal norms of the town where you two live in.

Phainon decided to fix his throat and tie before he could answer you, trying to make himself a bit more classy and snobby before flexing whatever news he had.

“Our pads and tampons are making such a huge success that one of my investors managed to begin trading our products with all North, Central and South America.” Phainon talked in a slightly sarcastic tone, obviously trying to exaggerate it to you so you could be extra happier with it.

“Are you serious?! No way! All three Americas at the same time?!” You gasped in shock, almost skipping in joy while imagining what would be all kinds of women trying out those items and finding out just how extraordinarily better they are than whatever they were currently using to absorb their menstruations.

“Yessir!” Phainon opened both his arms,welcoming all that joy you were expressing.

Every day, Phainon somehow managed to surprise you with good news and raise your spirits about your current life whether it was because of his mindless kindness and consideration of you or with his intelligent marketing skills. You admired him so much that you didn’t even like imagining what would your life be without him in this universe. You’d probably just find yourself marrying an old man who has zero interest or empathy with you, much less in your feminist ideals, and only gives you the bare minimum attention to keep you sane.

The difference between all men and Phainon is that you and him were modern. While other men thought with a non-industrial mindset of making a few thousands for profit, Phainon, who has lived with billionaires, thinks immediately about the millions he can profit because he knows exactly what to invest in. And while other women were mostly illiterate and solely worried with things like their marriage and birthing dozens of kids for their husbands, you were worried about ‘men things’ such as the job market and human progress and you had knowledge about all sorts of things. Because of this, you two were an extremely powerful duo. Your success was sudden, massive and impressive, leaving every man and woman from all social classes either inspired or envious. You two reigned everything. Either your or Phainon’s presence was highly valued in every party you stepped in, whether as an annoyance, taking everyone’s eyes away from the main objective of the ball, or as a blessing, since your presence meant that the party was entertaining.

After all, whatever the perfect couple interacts with or believes in, many others will want to interact with it or follow your beliefs too.

Yes, you and Phainon were technically a couple that got married a few months ago, but in practice, you two didn’t even sleep in the same room. It was an arranged business that you two agreed to do because women cannot really live without a husband and neither you or Phainon wanted you to be bullied for the rest of your life, so joining family, money and forces was obviously the smartest choice. You two had a little wedding and a marriage certification, but no kiss was ever seen after the fake one in the altar.

Your ‘marriage’ was actually one of the first triggers to awaken women into feminism. It was completely alternative. You weren’t forced to display affection with him publicly, you had all rights to complain and raise your voice to Phainon, Phainon had zero demands to you regarding his satisfaction with his life or kids, while at the same time he’d spoil you nonstop. It made women crave that freedom from their husbands, who all thought you were a greedy witch and that Phainon deserved better. But there was nothing they could do about it. His money reigned the country. So much that it made this sinful way of life of yours affordable and even cultural. It’s not his fault he know as exactly what inventions will be successful or not, but he’ll only keep growing, and whatever you two do will be what people want to do too. ‘His’ idea about creating tampons and pads was actually a request from you. Using random, non-absorbing cloths as pads was horrible and barely efficient, making your routine horrible during menstruation, so you decided to talk to Phainon about it, who immediately went after the creation of tampons and pads. A perfect example of how you two were iconic. Phainon already knew tampons and pads would be an immediate millionaire success, and all women envied the dedication of your husband to you compared their own men.

There is so much Phainon has done to you… He gave you a whole personal room for you to sleep in without him, a whole garden that had all the flowers you wished, he bought you all the dresses and makeup you wanted and every reform and furniture of the house was ordered by you. It felt like his life mission was assuring you a comfortable, almost free life, but it still felt incomplete to you because of one reason. The inferiority of women. Seeing women being sent away at age of 15 to marry a 40 year-old man made your heart ache with anguish. Seeing men shame prostitutes for their jobs and even throw tiny rocks on them made you angry. Seeing men’s hypocrisy to force women into a religion and a cult of purity that they don’t follow on their own made your blood boil… A much larger list of failures in this patriarchal system made you revolt, so you begun using your influence and money to create feminism.

And your ideas were expectedly booming between all women of your country, and Congress was slowly becoming more and more convinced that it wouldn’t be horrible idea to give women a few rights.

“I know I’m awesome, I know.” Phainon used a hand to push his frontal hair back to act even prouder of himself in front of you.

“We’re making so much progress in so little time! I can’t believe we are the first era of feminists and we’re turning out to be so successful!” You tip-toed in the floor, holding your own cheeks with excitement.

“We? No, no, no… you.” Phainon’s fingers suddenly reached to your chest bone and pressed it down, forcing all the credits for the success of the feminist movement to you. “And a lady like you deserves a delicious meal in compensation for her work, don’t you think?” He took away his finger off you, but his face leaned a bit closer to you too, staring at you deeply with admiration. “Follow me, Y/N.” He blinked a bit seductively, making you giggle, and when you looked down, his hands was hanging open in front of you just waiting for you to hold it.

And so you did, inflating your chest with air to show him your excitement and how high were your expectations. Phainon giggled at your behavior, beginning to gently pull you around the house.

You and Phainon silently walked in direction of the dinging room, only a few noises of creaking wood accompanying your steps. The silence wasn’t awkward, only a bit tense due to the circumstances you were in. Every corridor you two walked through, the house would become quieter and darker despite still being early afternoon. Your dining room was in a corner of the house where no background noise could annoy you and him, meaning it was distant from the home’s main entrance. And when you had finally reached the long, dark and narrow hall that led to nothing but the dining room in its end, Phainon decided to break the silence.

“You also have a second appointment today, don’t you? Or maybe tomorrow? Or maybe it already happened?” Phainon turned half of his face to you, staring at you with curiosity.

“A second appointment? I don’t—” Before you could finish speaking, your brain suddenly brought back a memory of you and some of your friends talking about future plans and played it for you.

It was you, Ms. Castorice and Ms. Algaea, the other two co-leaders of your movement, discussing about some great news in Aglaea’s mansion. Congress had accepted to participate in a debate with you and a team of other 5 people about giving women a few rights. You and them were discussing about which topics to bring up, which people to form a team with, and when should the debate happen.

“Cat got your tongue?” Phainon woke you up from your thoughts, laughing at your frozen face and still staring at it now with a mischievous stare.

“I do!” You snapped the fingers of your other free hands. “I-I have to go to Congress by 6 tonight!” Phainon’s eyes widened when you reminded him of what appointment was scheduled for today or maybe sometime else.

“Ah, yes!” Phainon stopped walking and let your hand go. “You were telling me about your plans for it a few days ago!” He pointed to you with a hand, trying to relate to you.

“Yes, yes, yes! I’ve prepared such good arguments to tell the Congress! It’ll be very difficult for them for them to deny our requests, much less with a good reason!” You crossed your arms again, remembering the expectations you had set. “Can you imagine? By tomorrow we might get the right to divorce! Women will get the right to divorce!” Phainon’s eyes widened when he felt the impact of those news.

“Seriously? The right to divorce this early?!” His mouth dropped to the floor as you confidently nodded to him.

“Yessir! We might finally be able to ask for a divorce too!” You laughed at your own additional words, but you quickly realized that Phainon went fully quiet while you were, so you stopped laughed and looked him, only to see he did not reciprocate, still with the same widened expression in his face, but his mouth was not smiley anymore.

“What do you mean?” He asked a bit confused.

“Me and you… Getting a divorce…” You pointed to him and you as you spoke, then you put your hands together only to separate them, representing what divorce was.

But Phainon’s expression turned horrified and almost pale when you separated your hands from each other, apparently taking it as a genuine offense.

“Why..?” His eyebrows frowned, looking as you worried.

“Well.. because we aren’t exactly married… This is all just for survival, remember?” You laughed a bit to try cooling him off, but Phainon’s expression only seemed to sadden even more.

“But… we’re fine together, aren’t we? We’re surviving really well, aren’t we? So why would you want to divorce?” Phainon stepped closer to you once, and this hall started to feel like it’d became narrower.

“W-Well, yeah, we’re doing good, but if I get women the right to divorce and to work independently, I won’t need you anymore… I mean, we were not doing this back in Amphoreus for a reason…” You laughed it off again, but then his hurt expression and silence made you realize you shouldn’t be giving him any reasoning. “What’s going on, Phainon?” You darkened your expression, trying to get straight to the point.

“I’ve been a good husband, haven’t I? I’ve made you happy all this time, haven’t I?” Phainon now sounded visibly anxious, breath almost hitching as he slowly stepped closer and closer to you, forcing you to repel and step backwards.

“Yeah, Phainon, but you’re not actually my husband. No need to call yourself one…” You laughed at his words, not sympathizing with his worry. “This is all an act for us to survive in this society, remember? There is no actual love or dependence between us or anything…” Phainon’s eyes widened with that last phrase as if you said something that just crushed his heart.

“W-What..?” Phainon’s cute puppy eyes stared at you with dying hope, but you still didn’t feel the slightest pity for him.

“Phainon, seriously, what the fuck is going on?” You decided to step forward this time, setting your ground for him to understand he was almost disrespecting your space.

Phainon didn’t answer you at first, only reluctantly staring at your eyes with his shaky blue pupils. It costed him quite a while to build courage to be truthful with you, gulping down his accumulated saliva and turning his head down to avoid the shame of what he has in his mind.

“I… I don’t want a divorce.” His confession came out as loud as a whisper, which made you not understand what he said initially and forced you to guess it.

Jointing the few syllables you’ve heard and assuming the words and articles he’d said with the help of context clues, you’d concluded he’d said ‘I don’t want a divorce’, which immediately triggered you to have a negative reaction. But you still remained quiet, trying to comprehend why would he want to stay married to you. Maybe he’s afraid to live without a wife in this rigid society? But he’s a man… You are the one supposed to be afraid of living without a husband. Or maybe he’s thinking about that? About your safety and comfort living in this society without a husband? Or maybe… that alternative you’ve been avoiding to recognize ever since the day of your ‘marriage’..?

…

No, it can’t be. He would never.

So you just sighed, throwing that thought to the back of your and concluding your investigation. Phainon did not want a divorce, and he doesn’t want it because he’s worried about you.

“You don’t a want a divorce?” You firmly queried, trying to have a bit of confirmation over your guess, a hand of yours moving to the necklace you wore to fidget it while he answered.

“Yes…” He mumbled shyly and you scoffed in pride of having guessed it correctly, still not understanding why was he be acting like this if his intentions were so pure.

“Why?” You inflated your chest again, preparing for whatever he wanted to say now.

“Because…” He tried to answer your question immediately, but the knot in his throat impeded him from finishing. “Because…” And he tried again, a bit less desperately, failing so miserably he looked down to the floor again in embarrassment.

And so, you exhaled, letting all that imprisoned air in your lungs in a sigh. Since he couldn’t say it for himself, you’d do it for him.

“I appreciate your worry for my comfort, Phainon, but I can definitely live on my own. I don’t care about what these people have to say about me and my choices. In fact, they can feel free to bully me as much as they want, I’ll still be milking more money than them in the end of the day.” You spoke less firmly, trying to see if that would make him feel comfortable to be more honest with you. “I can’t even guarantee that we will get the right to divorce in the first place anyway…” You tried to be a bit more optimistic, but then you immediately regretted it in recognition that it is needed to be realistic in a situation like this. “But I’ll still go to Congress today and fight for it. For me and all the women that need to get away from their husbands.” You could see Phainon swallowing another big chunk of saliva when you finished talking, surprisingly having a negative reaction again.

“For you? Why you?” Phainon stepped closer once again, face only becoming more stunned, which truly disturbed you.

“You’re scaring me, Phainon.” You brought your shoulders closer to your body, trying to make yourself more resistant and tolerable to his behavior.

“I don’t mean to scare you, Y/N… I just want to know why do you want a divorce when we’re so happy together…” He tried to argue in a way that still didn’t reveal his reason, but seeing how unmoved and suspicious you still were of him, he sighed and squinted his eyes. “I don’t want a divorce…” He stated his intentions again, but in a weak tone that made him sound like a hungry puppy, trying to make you feel guilty.

And that pissed you off. You believed Phainon was genuinely not trying to intentionally manipulate you into staying married him, but he was still acting unreasonably.

“But I do.” You countered him firmly. “And I will get it.” You wanted to turn away and immediately walk back to your room, but the moment you spun your right foot, before you could even start about turning your full body away from him, Phainon reacted to your words.

“No, you won’t..!” The tone of his voice deepened in such a rapid way that made you stop and look back at his eyes immediately, a sense of danger growing in the back of your mind.

“Yes, I will.” Feeling even more cornered by the hall’s tightness and afraid of Phainon, you decided to turn away abruptly in a speed that would stun Phainon for a moment before he could possibly catch you and bring you back to the discussion.

“Where are you going..?!” You heard Phainon stomp forward harshly, launching himself forward to reach your wrist and hold you tight with his large hand.

“Let me go, Phainon.” You decided to turn your eyes back to his again, trying to use your presence to order him, forcing yourself to control your voice from shaking as you spoke, taking his action as a threat to your security.

“Why are you trying to leave..? Why are you trying to leave me?!” His eyes were fully widened with anguish as he desperately filled you with two questions to answer.

“I’m just… not hungry anymore. I’ll eat later.” You quickly mumbled a fake reasoning, but it didn’t seem to convince him. After all, Phainon’s eyebrows noticeably frowned.

“That’s not true. Why are you lying to me..?” His grip in your wrist tightened in a way that made you grunt from the pain.

“Phainon, you’re hurting me..!” You tried to pull your hand away from him, only to be fully held back, which only made you even more nervous and scared of him.

“I don’t want us to divorce, Y/N… We don’t need a divorce…” He suddenly turned a bit soft again, endlessly trying to argue with you about that despite the fact that he was really freaking you out.

“I-I need to prepare for Congress, Phainon..! Let me go at this instant!” You even tried stepping away from him, seeing if it was possible to run away, but it didn’t work due to his heavy weight holding you back.

“No…” He mumbled, looking the deepest he could to your eyes, still trying to find any bit of pity in you and hope for himself.

“You’re only giving me more reasons to divorce you right now, Phainon..! Let me go now!” You had no choice but to try facing him with your own strength, now trying to use your other hand to grab that wrist of his to pull it away from you.

“No… We can’t divorce…” His repetitiveness finally made you snap.

“Yes we can and we will!” You launched your face forward and screamed at him, trying to shake your hand out of his grip the fullest you could.

But that triggered him snap too in reaction to your audacity in making such a hurtful statement.

“NO, WE WON’T!” He screamed at a tone that you’ve never heard from him and didn’t recognize, also finally releasing your wrist.

But before you give your first step backward, or think about his change in tone, something else stunned you again.

SLAP!

Your body immediately fell to the ground as Phainon’s hand smacked across your face, your feet enrolling themselves with the thick layers of your dress, giving your instincts time to only put your palms in the wooden floor before your head actually hit the ground, meaning you successfully landed sat instead of fully laid. But you recovered a second after the fall, so you immediately placed a hand on the cheek Phainon had slapped to ease the arduous pain he inflicted on you and rose your head up to him, finding him powerfully standing right in front of you, staring at you like a caught prey, jailed in a cage.

Neither of you spoke for the next seconds to process what had just happened and only breathed with opened mouths. The more you thought, the more frightened for your life you became, remembering the sudden change in his tone to one you’ve never heard, the slap itself and the threat it represented to your relationship… But the more he thought, the more calm he became in realization that you were frozen in fear, defeated by his action. And that’s why after a last round of breathing in and out deeply, he shut his mouth and calmly walked closer to you, kneeling down in front of you.

“Y/N…” A hand of his also reached the same cheek you were holding, cupping it gently, which only made your skin shiver with disgust of his touch, begging yourself to scream at him to get the fuck away from you. “I’m… I-I’m sorry…” He briefly wheezed, trying to ease the both of you from the mood. “I didn’t mean to… do this… or… t-to scare you.” He pathetically smiled at you, only making you wish to run away from him even more, but your adrenaline could only afford to freeze your body in that sat position. “I just… don’t want us to divorce… There’s no good reason to do that… That’s all…” He gulped down again.

You knew it. Deep down, you’ve always known it. You just didn’t want to admit it.

But maybe… you should’ve definitely talked to him about it sooner.

Phainon’s kindness… was never just friendly.

And there were always many little signs that rose that flag…

For example, the way he’d stare at you whenever he gave you a gift, sometimes only a few inches away from your face, just waiting to see the amazing reaction he’d rip out of you. Deep down, it always felt like he urged for more of something you couldn’t name until now. It didn’t feel like he just wanted your comfort and happiness because that’s what friends do, it felt like he did it as if he was your lover. These little gifts, perfectly enveloped in a beautiful wrap, felt like little seduction attempts. After all, the next gift would always be better than the next, as if he wanted to show just how dedicated he is, and convince your heart to let yourself fall for him.

The way he treated you during the day of your marriage… In the altar, what was supposed to be just a quick smooch to pose a fake picture of yourselves to the crowd witnessing you, turned out to be so much more touchy, intimate and even… real, like real couples do. And even when the vows were done, he kept throwing himself at you and holding your hands for the rest of the celebration party, for some reason so happy with the day. Friends don’t stick their tongues inside their friends’ mouths when it’s needed to fake a kiss. It wasn’t just an act.

And the one habit that mostly made you icky about thinking about Phainon’s possibly feeling things for you… The way his eyes stoned in you and his cheeks flushed whenever he saw you trying any ball dresses and makeup for the parties you were invited to or even when he saw you in your rendered pijamas when you two were home… They always delivered you a message of lust, and you don’t want any of your friends to lust over you, much less Phainon in such a situation like yours right now. But it was true, Phainon would not react to you being pretty like a friend would.

You should’ve accepted it sooner. But now it’s too late. You’ve let this grow. You are reaping what you sowed.

Phainon liked you as more than a friend.

“But think about it… Wouldn’t it be iconic? The leader of the feminist movement herself doing all of this work to get the right of divorce when she, on her own, does not desire to divorce her husband? You could show them that it is possible to be a feminist and be a married woman at the same time…” His thumb caressed your hand, lamenting that he couldn’t directly reach your fluffy cheek.

But you were still too stunned to say anything, despite the thousands of protests running in your mind, begging to be shouted.

“We are such a good duo… Why would you ever want to put and end to us? Put an end to our influence? Our impact? Our empire?” Phainon looked at you with more pity, assuming his position of total power over you. “We don’t need to be exactly like other couples… I would never force you to do that… We can still be exactly like how we are today, but all I want is to still be able to live in the same house as you… and call you my wife.” Phainon pulled that hand of yours that held your cheek and turned it around, making your palm face down.

And with very slow movements, he smooched your knuckles, smiling softly at them. And then he looked down at your fingers, meeting that engagement ring that the both of you were forced to wear to avoid any accusations or bullying, and that made his grin grow, blue eyes shining with joy. He leaned down and kissed the ring too with more intensity, sucking your skin for a bit to demonstrate just how much he valued that golden ring.

“I just want you to wear this ring with me for the rest of your life… Is that too much to ask from you? I’ve done so many harder things for you…” Phainon laid his cheek on your hand, rubbing himself against it as if it was the comfiest pillow he’d ever laid on.

He kept doing that for a few seconds before he kissed your hand again… and then again… again, again and again, many spots in it becoming a bit moistened with his saliva. He even turned your hand around and begun kissing your palm and its heel as deep as he could.

“I love you, Y/N…” He mumbled in your skin with closed eyes, breath warming up your skin. “I really do…” He made sure his message was clearly sent to you, pausing for a moment to let you absorb it. “But I can’t let you do this to us… to me…” He opened his eyes, staring at you with a weird kind of pity again, as if he wasn’t bothered by your discomfort, like a masochist would.

But then he stood up again, not offering you any help to get up too.

“You won’t go to Congress today.” He stated a bit more seriously, contrasting his previous tone as he stared down at you very firmly, before he started to calmly walk away from the scene as if he hadn’t just done something completely absurd and out of normal.

Your eyes followed his body in fear, watching him walk with his hands holding each other behind his back ao elegantly, each step making the wood planks creak a bit. In the end of the hall, where you two came from, Phainon met one of your many maids standing still with an uncomfortable expression visible in her face, but still forcing herself to do her job as either your or his servant.

“If you see her trying to leave tonight, don’t let her. You understand?” Phainon spoke to the maid very gently, contrasting himself once again.

“Yes, sir.” She nodded, assuming her new responsibility.

“Good. You may call me or the guards in the gate if that happens.” Phainon assigned the maid her permissions, making her nod again, but silently. “Go tell the other maids their new assignment.” He used to a hand to tap her shoulder twice very sweetly.

“Yes, my master.” She gently bowed to him again, making Phainon grin, feeling comfortable enough to keep walking away from the scene.

When he finally turned to the left and fully left you alone, the maid looked at you again, staring at your pitiful situation with mixed feelings. It was a silent communication, but you could still get her general message, the same way she could get yours.

After all the efforts you’ve been doing to push a feminist agenda in your town to all kinds of women and men, you’ve failed to do that in your own home with your own maids. The same women who were stuck in your palace, working 24/7 to keep every detail of your home perfect and make your routine as easy as possible, were neglected by you and your movement, just like how in real life some women were neglected from the early stages of feminism too. And now you were suffering the harshest consequences of it you could suffer. She pitied you and even seemed to wish she could do something for you, but all she was ever taught to do in this sort of job was obey the man’s command, meaning she’d betray her own beliefs and risk her whole career if she dared to think about helping you, which would be disobeying Phainon. So all she could do was give that silent treatment until she couldn’t bare her own grief anymore and begun to walk away in the same direction as Phainon did, beginning to call him by his nickname, her voice echoing in your ears lightly.

How could you forget? You live in a conservative patriarchy.

Phainon is the man in your relationship.

In conservative patriarchies, the man is always the leader. The woman is just his follower. A servant who is always mindlessly ready to please him.

And he likes this system the way it is.

Today he just made that very clear. The roles of the relationship were established.

Taglist: @gaboplaydespacito

Don’t forget to like and comment if you liked it! <3

[raindailies]

❝ — SOLDIER, POET, KING. ❞

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

⟡ “Eros?”

⟡ “The purest.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⟡ Mydei was a prince.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

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

⟡ “How did you–”

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

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

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

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

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

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

⚡︎ ───────────

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

⟡ “Ma.”

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

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

⟡ "And?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NOTES:

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

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

[gojover]

[4:22 p.m.] ⋆ phainon knows how to find you faster than anyone else. there’s only one place you would sneak off to, anyway.

the observatory in the grove of epiphany isn’t even that secret. everyone knows about the enchanted dome, the one that mirrors the constellations of amphoreus regardless of the hour. but for some reason, it always feels like it belongs just to the two of you.

when he pushes the door open, he’s met with the soft hum of enchantment and starlight stretching across the glass dome. you’re lying on the plush circular rug in the centre, with mismatched socks and a bag of spirit day’s lucky cookies open next to you.

he smiles without meaning to. you don’t even look up.

“knew you’d find me,” you mumble, popping a cookie into your mouth.

“i follow the crumbs,” he teases, stepping out of his boots and flopping down beside you. “literal crumbs, this time.”

“you weren’t supposed to see those.”

he snags a cookie from the bag, bumping his shoulder against yours. “you’re very bad at sneaking snacks.”

“you’re very annoying for someone i like so much.”

phainon hums, rolling onto his side to look at you, chin propped on one hand. his other arm stretches out lazily, fingers brushing over your thighs. “you like me?”

“for cerces’ sake,” you groan, covering your face with one hand. “you knew that.”

“i like hearing you say it,” he says.

you peek at him from between your fingers, trying not to smile too wide. “you’re so annoying.”

“you like that too.”

overhead, the illusion shifts slowly: stars rearranging themselves into a heart, then a lopsided flower, like the dome’s magic is eavesdropping again. phainon glances up at it and grins.

“subtle,” he says.

“shut up,” you mumble, reaching over to flick his forehead. but your fingers linger, brushing through his bangs to smooth them out. “your hair’s all messed up.”

“you always do this,” he says, amused.

“and i always will,” you retort. “get used to it, phainon.”

he looks at you like you just hung the moon, like your smile is brighter than the false stars above your heads. you lean your head against his shoulder, and he shifts slightly so you fit better there, curling into his side.

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Arranged Marriage, Stalking, Forced Kiss

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You had thought for years that the prophecy wouldn't be true. It hung over your head like a crimson moon, equal parts beautiful and haunting, words lingering on your lips like a young lover.

As decreed by the Mnestia long ago, Kephale would one day take up a lover who would wield witticisms and words as weapons forged in an ever-burning mind. At the time, it had seemed preposterous that a Titan, much less Kephale, would take up a lover. If not for a servant scribbling those utterances down and telling his children, who told their own children, who told their children, so on and so forth, the prophecy would have been lost to time.

If it had, would you still be in this predicament?

The first time you had heard of the prophecy when studying poets of old, you had brushed it aside as a simple legend. Kephale had already laid down a prophecy of his own by this time of how new heroes would soon conquer Coreflames to inherit the Titans' divinities, but you knew none of the Chrysos Heirs.

After a period of study, you soon began to craft your own verses. You much preferred the solitude of your home to the bustling crowds of the city, so you didn't hear how quickly your works began to gain popularity. Bards had a new repertoire to learn, and schemes and conceits never once imagined flowed through the air.

When one of the Chrysos Heirs himself began knocking on your door every day, demanding your attention, you realized your popularity had shattered any preconceived zeniths. Phainon was his name, he said, and from what he had heard of you, he was enchanted. The look in his eyes was such a hazy, skylit blue, it seemed like he truly had been the victim of some bizarre spell.

Every day he came and encroached more and more upon you and your home. At first, he stayed outside of your door, but eventually, he began to barge in, sitting at your table or searching amongst your shelves for any subjects he could strike a conversation with you on.

Despite his idiosyncrasies and his forthright behavior, despite the occasional memory igniting in your mind, reminding you of the prophecy, you didn't worry about it. Phainon had told you many times how he longed to take the Coreflame of Nikador, not Kephale. When word spread through Okhema over Nikador's defeat, whatever lingering doubts seemed to be extinguished. You were fine. The prophecy wasn't true, or perhaps it was meant for another Chrysos Heir, another poet.

Weeks later, you found yourself regretting your assuredness. It started, as many no-good things did, with a knock on your door. As you begrudgingly walked to open it, expecting to see perhaps a bard or a fool, you instead were greeted by Phainon. Despite the weariness in his eyes, his hands shot out and clenched your shoulders with such speed and strength, you nearly leapt out of your skin. His nose nuzzled into your neck, taking a deep breath. For what seemed like hours, he mumbled and babbled and blathered and prattled about Coreflames, Nikador, Kephale, and the prophecy. After his tirade, his grip tightened.

"But, at least you're mine now." The words seemed to shackle themselves around your wrists, binding you and your attention.

For a moment, you were so dumbfounded you couldn't find the words to express what you wanted to say. Had your situation been any less confounding, you would've found your speechlessness a wonderful little paradox. "Phainon, wha-what do you m-?"

Before you could finish your sentence, Phainon sealed away any remaining restraint he had with a brutally tender kiss. He seemed to push against your lips with the goal of wearing them down until they molded perfectly against his. The kiss itself seemed to metamorphosize with how long it lived; at first it was tender, like new shoots of life growing in spring, but as it grew in age, so did its greed. Phainon seemed intent on savoring every second as an eternity in its own right.

When he did break the kiss, he gazed at you with an otherworldly devotion. It was a look of such sweet softness that it could kill. "I might not have Kephale's Coreflame yet, but I will. I'll do it. Just for you." Though he said he didn't have a Coreflame, his eyes burned with passion brighter than the sun. It scorched your tender skin, branding you with illusory markings of possession. A declaration, almost, that you were, in fact, the subject of Mnestia's dreadful prophecy.

[lysarion]

━━━━━━ love in quiet places ⟢

♱    |    a short drabble of how phainon loves you in quiet ways.

𖤝 including  ⠀! ⠀phainon          ◟          𖤝 warnings ⠀! ⠀modern/school setting

❝      tags     ⚜     .   if you'd like to be tagged please send me an ask off-anon!!!

phainon did not love you loudly contrary to what others may think. not because he’s ashamed or anything—he’s simply the kind of guy that wants to keep his affections for you private.

he’s the kind of guy who would always, without a fail, send you a good morning or good night text. always fretting over your safety and wondering if you got home safely after a fun night out with your friends. phainon is the kind of guy that would show up at your door in the middle of the night because your vibes were “off” that day or whenever you sounded “mad” during text messages. 

phainon is always the first to greet you hello during the morning as you enter school grounds, asking about how you slept that night. he’s the kind of guy to let his stare linger on your figure right as you disappear into the hallway; write down your name in little corners of his notebook whenever he’s dozing off in class ( sheepishly, almost shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he recounts how professor anaxa caught him slacking in class ). 

and whenever castorice lets him borrow her camera, phainon would always search for you first to take a quiet picture. waiting with bated breath as you exit the school library, papers snd clipboards in your arms as you chat away with mydei and hyacine. phainon would click the shutter and fumble with himself when he realises he forgot to turn the flash off, effectively blowing his cover and acts of secrecy.

phainon is the type of guy to always avoid eye contact when you catch him red handed in his small acts of loving you. not because he’s ashamed—he’s just a little shy to admit he’s never loved someone so innocently as he has with you.

© 𝓵ysarion 2025 — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate works without the knowledge or consent of the creator in other platforms or websites.

[yearninflowers]

Imagine…

Phainon, who would deem you as a sun and view you as the pinnacle of perfection in his life. He once saw you somewhere and decided to look into you after seeing how glaringly bright you are. Throughout his life, one haunted by the horrors of his past, you became the anchor to his reality, fully capturing his mind onto the present time.

The scream of the devil inside his mind hollowed out at the sounds of your laughter.

On some days, the scream was louder, harsher, even tempting.

Phainon, who would inscribe a sun over his neck just so he could get reminded of you every time he looked at a mirror. He sighed, caressing the sun softly as if he was touching you. Sometimes, once the sun had settled nicely to his skin, he would latch his fingernails to it, letting small prickles of blood flow out and taint the ever-so-lovely sun. His breath would hitch at the thought of you drenched in his blood.

Perhaps, the devil was him all along.

Perhaps, he was the one screaming inside his mind, scratching his soul with the itch to let loose and claim you as his one and only treasure, his sole sun.

Phainon, who would eventually relent to his desire, taking you all to himself. He would beg, down on his knees, for you to love him as he loved you. His heart soars high to wrap itself on your own, swallowing your whole being to be all his, alone.

“It’s my sign of love for you, Sunshine.” He whispered to your ear, forcing your hands to wrap around his neck.

He smiled, soft, as if proud of the bloody sun he had made.

[starcharmed]

phainon seems like the type of person, who once under the realization that he can in fact distract you with a kiss, exploits it to the fullest.

you're really under the image that he's an awkward kisser - stars help him with beating those allegations - but naturally he begins to start being more confident with his 'abilities'. whenever you're there fussing over his reckless habits, he's leaning over and pressing a kiss to your cheek; mumbling petnames and giving you that boyish smile he wears.

he kisses your hands, runs his thumb over your knuckles. it's become a habit he genuinely cannot break. he's been greeted with the taste of sours, spices, and all alike he's fully prepared if he wants to lay a kiss whilst your cooking. you've failed to give him more than five minutes worth of your attention once he's entered home, so now he has to lift your hand up and give the palm of it a kiss.

mission succeeded, now you're both flushing and the food's burnt. which means more quality time?

phainon rarely kisses your pulse points. he would rather not place his lips only to find out he kissed stone. he doesn't fear for the thought of you dying, more for the fear that he's been living in an allusion of life.

"my dear, i can assure you that i do not need to check your pulse since i can hear your heart from here." he's lying, that's his own heartbeat going faster than a lightning bolt. he wonders if it would stop if the coldness of your body ever froze him to his core.

he rests his chin on your shoulder. moving his head enough to kiss it yet not disrupting his position. a cheeky move that often befalls when your head is turned from him.

denying him a kiss always makes him look like a kicked puppy. moving away without having verbal communication. no verbal communication with phainon? so you think you can sing without a voice then?

"not right now, phainon." oh so he did do something wrong. he overstepped? now he has to die. he has to leap from a terrance after proclaiming his apologies in front of the entire city.

"it's not you." he could jump up and click his heels in joy. the thought soon dissipates after he realizes you're, in fact, upset.

maybe you really should let mydei dunk phainon's head in a bath for good measure.

[yandere-sins]

Bathhouse Service

[My Commission Info] | [My Ao3] | [Ko-Fi]

a/n: Here we gooo, the first commission of this year for a super sweet anon ♥

Characters: Phainon (HSR) x Male!Reader Warnings: Yandere, Sexual Content (Non-Con/Dub-Con, Pec job, Anal, Fingering, Hand job, Musk Kink), Domination, Obsessiveness, Stalking, Abuse of Power, Long Post Words: 6647

Taking a deep breath, you waded through the bathwater, happy to finally put down your golden tray for the day.

You'd been working hard, serving food and drinks to the guests of the bathhouse, constantly forcing a smile on your face even though it was hard to stand in the water, people sloshing it against your body and soaking your clothes. This job wouldn't have been your first pick if you had a choice. Being out in public and in constant contact with people was nerve-wracking on the good days, and the feeling of being constantly exposed by the bare minimum of coverage your clothes provided only added to your discomfort. 

Something more private, away from the prying eyes, would have been nice. But being a bathhouse attendant was what paid the bills. Rolling your shoulder, you breathed into the tension that had built all over your body. Ironic since the baths were the most relaxing place in all of Okhema, but all they did was add stress to your nervous system. It wasn't easy not being as socially adapt as the other attendants and more introverted when having to talk and attend to countless people every day, their prying eyes prickling like needles on your skin, and their hands were sometimes a bit too adventurous to be well-mannered. But you kept telling yourself you were merely too shy for your own good, misinterpreting everyone's intentions. 

After all, you also felt like you were being watched when there was no one around you at all.

Turning around, you looked over at the few people still lingering in the baths. It was almost closing time. Finally, you thought, your shift having taken its toll, and you desperately needed a good night's sleep. Tomorrow would be your day off work, and it was exactly what you needed to recoup and gather your strength to survive the following shifts ahead of you. Especially the busy rush hours after people finished their work were exhausting, the crowded baths being treacherous to navigate and the demands of people even harder to fulfill. You didn't have the gift of being born exceptionally tall and strong like your peers, so you often found yourself in trouble with the guests who looked down on you. Everything about you was average enough to escape trouble, but trouble seemed to try and find you wherever you went. Not everything about the job was terrible, but you were reminded every day why it simply wasn't suitable for you. 

"Hey!" someone called out, and you jerked out of your daydreams where you imagined having a nice dinner before slipping into your warm bed, already waiting for you.

"Y-Yes?" you stammered, turning towards the voice, expecting a visitor trying to get your attention. However, instead, the face was familiar, the big smile curling your boss's mouth making you dread the interaction even more. You two had very different opinions on what made you happy, and seeing him excited, almost skipping steps to get to you faster, wasn't a good sign for you at all. 

"I need you to go upstairs to the upper baths and serve some food and drinks before you leave for today. Can you do that?"

"What, me?" you asked, flabbergasted. Usually, there were special attendants for these baths. People who underwent specific training and had to sign confidentiality contracts. It was for the good of all the people to pick the very best attendants for the Chrysos Heirs, and you weren't one of them. "That's… Isn't there someone better suited for this task? I- I mean, going there is such a big honor. I'm not sure if I am worthy of it…"

"You're too modest! You're doing a great job!" your boss laughed out loud, the praise feeling undeserved, as if he was doing it just to encourage you. Still, you fumbled with the hem of your tunic, feeling flattered. Giving you a strong pat on the back that almost toppled you over, he leaned over the counter, grabbing and piling some fresh fruit and a bottle of the best drink money could buy in all of Okhema with two glasses on top of your tray before turning back to you. You got nervous just seeing the bottle that cost more than all you had ever earned, hoping you'd not be the reason it would fall and shatter along with your savings.

"Besides, it was specifically asked for you, so it's not like we can send anyone else."

Giving your boss a questioning look, he merely slipped the tray from the counter, holding it up to you. Afraid he might drop it and blame the loss of merchandise on you, you caught it, sealing your fate effectively. The bottle and glasses swayed, and so did you, trying to adjust to the weight of the tray despite your exhausted muscles. You really didn't want to do it, but when you looked up, your boss was already a few steps away from you, waving as he yelled back. 

"Amazing! See you for your next shift, then! Take good care of our customer!"

With that, he was gone, leaving you behind to figure everything else out on your own. Still a little unsteady, you bit your lip as you balanced the tray while putting one foot in front of the other. Freedom was so close, even if the way to it was anxiety-inducing and exhausting. What could your boss have possibly meant when he said someone specifically asked for you? You weren't acquainted with the heroes at all, so it seemed unlikely that they'd ask for you by name. It all sounded like manipulation at its finest when he phrased it like that, and you felt even more uncomfortable with the task than you already were. 

Nonetheless, it had to be done. The quicker you were, the faster it would be over, too, and you'd probably not have to interact much with the Heir who was expecting your service. Stepping onto the elevator platform, you kept reassuring yourself that everything was fine and you could do this. However, a knot formed in your stomach, making you wish the elevator would never stop. 

The temperature wasn't much different from the lower baths, yet you felt yourself breaking out in beads of sweat, your body heating up with every second spent in agonizing anticipation. Who was going to wait for you up there? What did they want? Would you be able to hold the ever so slightly shaking tray until you reached their table? What if all of the Heirs were there, watching and judging your service? What if you lost your job?

You walked off the platform with unsteady steps, nervously scanning the area. You had been up here before, of course. But only to clean when there was no one around. Now, even without seeing it, you immediately felt the presence lingering in one of the baths. Eyes of striking blue fixated on you, raking down your body and leaving only goosebumps in their wake as they scanned over you. Halting your breath, you heard the water swaying to your left before you saw the body moving it. Casual, relaxed, but focused—on you.

Phainon.

Barely anyone was as well-known as he was around Okhema. Naturally, every Chrysos Heir was revered, but no one was as loved as Phainon. With his cheerful nature and helpful spirit, many people looked up to him as their savior and hero. They felt safe and comfortable around him, no less because he showed everyone kindness, his smile more dazzling than most could stand without fainting. The same smile he was showing you, now that he had your attention on him.

"There you are!" he greeted you, waving from his bath as if you two were lifelong friends. You had never met him privately before, only ever watched from the masses when he returned after a mission. The two of you lived in entirely different worlds, yet it made your face heat up to be greeted by him like a friend. 

Quickly but while carefully balancing the expensive bottle on your tray, you made your way over to Phainon, his smile growing bigger as you approached. As if he was about to jump up, he leaned forward, shifting to the side on the bench closest to you and sending waves your way as you stepped into the water. With the waves crashing into you, you had to fight with your balance, the fluid soaking your clothes again, making them cling to your body uncomfortably.

There was something special about the Hero's baths; their effects were even more soothing and healing than those below. You were immediately confronted with these effects as you felt your body relax. That was one of the reasons why it took special training to serve the upper floor, and you struggled with not just giving in to the relaxing effects. You barely reached the table before letting the tray down. Accidentally, a soft groan escaped you as the strain disappeared, immediately causing you to feel ashamed as you realized how unbecoming such a sound was in front of a hero who fought for the people all day. The least you could do was serve him properly, without complaints, yet here you were.

"A- Apologies for the delay, Sir…" you mumbled, giving a small bow while averting your eyes. Your heart was pounding increasingly fast, but you tried your best to simply get the task over with, not wanting to raise more attention on yourself.

"No need, you are right on time!" Phainon replied chipperly, another large wave crashing into you, almost knocking you over. Immediately, you looked up, seeing him standing right before you, his hand reaching out. "I was looking forward to seeing you again."

Fingertips ghosted over your cheek, and your body did the most logical yet stupidly over-the-top reaction and jumped away. You were so surprised by his sudden touch that you didn't consider your surroundings, the water reaching up to your hips tripping you over as you crashed backward, barely cushioned as you landed on one of the stairs leading into the bath. Bewildered and surprised, you looked up to see Phainon slowly close the distance, his expression a mix of concern and something softer, perhaps pity… or maybe not.

"Sorry, I just couldn't help myself. The last mission took so long, I really missed you."

"N-No, I'm so sorry! I was just surprised, forgive me…" you quickly tried to wave off the embarrassment. Your eyes darted from side to side, trying to be polite but also not stare. From your position, it was hard not to look anywhere indecent, but you also didn't want to be rude and just bolt. Still, you couldn't help but see a few glimpses of his body, water dripping down the lines of his muscles, making him glisten in the moody lightening of the bathhouse. The towel around his hips was one of the regular ones, yet, on Phainon, it looked almost too small as it hung low on his body, leaving neither his defined thighs nor the bulge between his legs to your imagination.

It was massive. 

Gulping, you felt the heat rise dangerously hot into your face, shaming you for having even a tiny indecent thought about the Heir. Someone like you could barely stand in his presence, let alone think about what his cock must be like. You watched in a mix of embarrassment and surprise as Phainon reached out again, certainly to lend you a hand. He was that kind of man, a true hero. Selfless and kind. That's why it surprised you even more when his arms landed on either side of you, your legs opening without thinking to welcome his body between them. 

For a moment, you merely stared at him, his face so close now that you felt his breath tingling on your damp skin. Seeing every eyelash on his gorgeous eyes and the small dimples as he smiled felt utterly unreal. The next thing you knew, one hand was on your thigh, massaging your muscles as it slowly moved upwards. 

"I missed you so much," he murmured. "I kept thinking of returning to you. Guess it's too much to ask if you missed me, too?"

For the first time, you listened to his words more closely. It was easy, really, with his mouth so close that you watched his lips move. "Do we… know each other?" you asked, confused. You didn't remember ever interacting with Phainon before, much less having a relationship close enough to miss each other. The crack in his smile was noticeable, the disappointment reaching even his mesmerizing blue eyes. But as fast as it had appeared, it was gone again. Instead, you were confronted with the feeling of his hand beneath your clothes, dangerously near to your privates.

Letting out a small gasp, you looked down at it, reacting instinctively as you gripped his wrist, barely able to wrap your fingers all the way around it. The differences between you two were much more significant than you first expected, his body able to shield you from anything and all while he could break you like a twig at the same time. You never felt as weak as you did now when you were in Phainon's presence, his touch creeping higher and higher. 

"Ouch," he laughed, faking his hurt before quickly returning to his confident and sweet smile. "You know how to break hearts, don't you? And here I am, so happy to see you…"

"S-Sorry!" you immediately apologized, although you didn't know if it was necessary. 

However, your words were cut off as you suddenly felt Phainon's hand placed on top of your lower stomach, playing with the rim of your underwear. "W-Wait!" you stuttered, and his grin widened more as he dragged the fabric down. 

"I've waited a long time, don't take this from me now, please."

You could barely believe what was happening as the Phainon lowered himself before you, never breaking eye contact as he freed your cock from the clothes holding it back, the traitor jumping up and brushing against Phainon's chest with gentle arousal. It was all too much as realization finally dawned on you about what was happening, and you still found it hard to believe. But with a long sigh, Phainon's expression softened as he briefly looked down at your member, swaying his chest to move it around until it was situated right between his pecs, his eyes returning to yours with a flush of adoration in them.

And then, with more vigor than anyone had ever touched you with before, Phainon began rubbing your length up and down between his pecs. Water was sloshing all around you two as he moved up and down your cock, slowly picking up the speed. Your hands reached for his shoulders, trying to push him away, embarrassment burning in your cheeks. Instead, they only found hold there as Phainon pressed against you harder, mistaking your resistance for an invitation.

"W-Wait!" you stammered, but your words were followed by a stifled moan as you bit your lip hard. With the water acting as a rough lubricant, the friction between your skins wrapped deliciously around your cock. His tough muscles seemed to soften, adjusting so they could pleasure you better, and you heard him chuckle as your legs pressed into his sides. At this point, you didn't even know if you wanted to push him away or draw him closer while he turned you into a gasping mess. 

"This is like a dream come true," Phainon sighed blissfully as he worked your shaft between his pecs. "I've always wanted to be alone with you like this! You have no idea how long I've been trying to get closer to you."

His words reached your ears but couldn't settle your raging thoughts. Nothing about this made sense! Why would the Chrysos Heir want someone ordinary and unremarkable like you? All of Okhema laid at his feet, yet he wanted you of all people? It didn't feel right, and neither did what he was doing to you without your consent. And yet, against all reason, your head fell back just as you felt your body tensing. 

"That's right," he mumbled, his weight bearing down on you as he buried your cock between his pecs." Be a good boy and come for me. Let me have a taste, I've been starving."

All you could do was obey, your toes curling as you tried biting back the moan that finally broke free. It felt incredibly wrong, but as you watched your cum splash and spread across Phainon's chest, you couldn't help but stare in stunned silence. Both of you were breathing heavily, the motion continuing to tease your cock, which still throbbed between Phainon's pecs. Only now did you realize what you had done—and to be fair, it was his fault as well—the shame burning through your whole body as you whimpered fearfully. 

What if he'd tell everyone that you had forced yourself on him? What if he blackmailed you? No… Phainon wasn't that kind of person. You had always known him to be noble and kindhearted, your mind was merely playing tricks on you out of your own anxiety. And besides, he had attacked you first… even if you ended up being on the receiving end of the pleasure. 

At this point, you didn't know if it was merely the heat of the baths getting to your head or if you were about to pass out from exhaustion. Yet, you managed to pull yourself a few inches away, your cock slipping out from between Phainon's pecs with a nasty squishy sound, reminding you too much of sex. Well, technically, this was a form of it. Still, it made you nervous to consider this an act of intimacy. You two still barely knew each other, even though Phainon kept claiming he did. 

Stealing another glance at him, you watched him lean back, dragging his fingers through the spilled cum as if drawing patterns on himself. He searched for your eyes again, satisfied as he met your gaze. Phainon grinned, bringing his palm in front of his mouth and giving it a good lick, slurping up some of the jizz as if it was the drink of the Titans itself. Wide-eyed, you watched in horror, but as Phainon made one more step out of the bath, your gaze was drawn away, the towel around his hips loosening up before dropping to the ground. Not without getting stuck on his erection, though, and you gulped as you watched his cock bounce free the second the fabric slipped off. 

He was massive. You had suspected as much from the bulge you had noticed before, but seeing his cock fully erect, ran goosebumps all over your body. Something like that was what every man wished for. It probably made anyone faint the moment it slipped in, but it would be so worth it just to be fucked by it. Getting down on his hands and knees, Phainon crawled after you, a sight to behold, the great hero on his fours, preying on you like an animal. Now that he had a taste, his eyes had darkened with an unfamiliar desire. It made you gulp hard as you realized you were the object of lust reflected in them. 

"I- I'm so sorry! I can't tell you how sorry I am, this is unforgivable—I should leave!" was all you could come up with before quickly twisting your hips around and trying to stand up. You were already on your knees when one strong arm wrapped around your neck, and you clawed at it, fearing the enormous strength Phainon seemed to wield with ease. You had no question that he could suffocate you just like that, and the anxiety raised some panic inside you. 

Soft lips fell at the spot behind your ear, slowly kissing down your neck and making you gasp and shudder. His other hand dropped to your right pec, squeezing at it despite your body being less refined than his. Compared to your average size and looks, Phainon was like a god. Perhaps that's why he thought it was okay to play with your nipple, flicking it with his pointer while you felt the lips at your neck suck your skin into his mouth.

"Don't leave just yet," Phainon muttered against your body. "I finally got you right where I want you."

"I- I'm just an employee, Sir! I can't possibly be what you want!"

"Mhm," a long, thoughtful hum escaped Phainon before you heard his lips smack as they were pulled from your body. "And yet, you are. Always been," he confessed, and you weren't sure if this was a lie like your boss had told you or if you should have felt flattered to be confessed to by the Heir. However, your cock jerked as you listened to him, no less because of all the stimulation you were receiving. 

"And tonight, I finally have you all to myself."

Hand falling from your chest, it drove lower over your stomach. You inhaled sharply at the sensation of his fingers parting so they could wrap around the base of your dick. Jerking your hips back, you felt his length press between your ass cheeks, his hot and eager cock twitching as it was greeted by softness. Phainon let out an audible breath before he chuckled, allowing you to feel every inch of him by rubbing his cock against your butt. Simultaneously, his pointer and thumb created a circle around your own sex, stroking it up and down slowly. 

You two fell into a rhythm of stroking and rubbing, Phainon's kisses returning to the nape of your neck, together with his hot breath and wet tongue. The arm around your neck kept holding you up, choking you a little every time he pressed you forward with a push of his hips, and you gasped, making Phainon's breath shudder every time as if your voice aroused him. Soon enough, your cock was up and ready again, although you felt exhausted after all the work that day and having already spent yourself all over the hero. 

But when you felt the next orgasm built, making you snap your own hips forward into Phainon's hand, he suddenly let go of your cock, leaving it to pound helplessly into the air. "You're already ready again," Phainon teased, and you bit your lip, holding back the frustration. Suddenly, he let go of you, pulling away and leaving you to catch your balance until you found yourself on all fours this time. Your dick was twitching between your legs, upset about not finishing what Phainon had started.

But before you could come to your senses and use the chance to leave, Phainon was back, his legs on either side of your body as he got down on your level. Next thing you knew, something slimy dripped onto your butt, running off the curve and into your crack. Alarmed, you looked back, watching as a focused Phainon poured some liquid out of a golden pitcher, letting it run over his hand and thoroughly coating it in the thick substances. When he looked up again, he smiled again, assuring you, "No worries, I prepared for this."

Then, he slipped his hand between your cheeks, his middle finger pushing against your hole. Realizing that he was preparing you for penetration, you gasped, immediately trying to crawl away, but Phainon was quicker. He laughed as you squirmed, calling out, "Not so fast!" as he grabbed your ankle with his free hand, pulling you back on the first step and into the bath. The water was a treacherous accomplice, trying to soothe you with its warmth and calming effects, but as his finger slipped inside you, there was no calm to be found in you. 

"Wait!" you yelled, pushing back against the arm whose finger penetrated you with your own hand, but you didn't have the strength to fight him. The lube he used had some form of relaxant in it, making it easier to stretch you. You mewled up as he pushed another and a third finger into you, undoubtedly preparing you for his cock's girth. 

"You're ready," Phainon let you know as you breathed heavily, his fingers stirring up your insides mercilessly. When you came to serve him food and drinks, you didn't think you'd end up being assaulted. Yet here you were, at his mercy, as he placed the tip of his cock against your hole, pressing against it over and over until he was frotting the lotion and coating himself in it. You opened your mouth to protest one more time when he finally decided to go for it, his entire tip slipping inside you, spreading you to a never-before achieved level of width. No scream escaped you as he pushed himself further into you, the only sounds around being the bubbling of water and Phainon's groans. 

"That's it," Phainon purred. "Take it like you were made for me."

Even without looking back, you knew he had managed to lodge his entire shaft inside. Your cheeks were spread, and his balls pressed against your ass. You could barely endure it, your vision blurry with a mix of tears and seeing stars. Phainon had yet to move, but there was no guarantee he wouldn't knock the breath from your lungs with one deep pound, making you faint like you had anticipated his cock would. 

Grunting, Phainon slowly pulled back out of your hole that clung to him tightly, all the lube being absorbed to ease your pain. However, instead of knocking you out cold, your whole body sprung to life as he pushed into you. In an instant, you were overcome by fear, panic, pain, and the desire to get away, but with the next push, you were left a moaning mess, rolling your hips in an attempt to adjust to his thickness penetrating you. 

Steadily, the pace increased, and your body took every push with delightful pleasure that made you almost forget that you didn't want any of this. Phainon's arms soon snaked around your torso, helping you back on your knees and pressing your back against his chest, your body molding into his. You listened to his grunts, trying not to admit your own sounds of pleasure as he plowed into you, hugging you tighter and tighter.

You could feel his cock swell inside you, the signs of arousal all there, even on your own body. This was not how you imagined your first private meeting with the Chrysos Heir to go. This wasn't the kind and heroic person he had been made out to be by everyone. If anything, he was an animal in heat, forcing your head back and to the side. 

"Look at me," he murmured while continuing to fuck his shaft into you mercilessly. Licking his tongue over your lips, you sighed as his dick pressed against your sensitive spot once again, giving Phainon enough time to capture your mouth with his, kissing you deeply while holding you painfully close against him. Not even a piece of paper could have fit between you two. You could feel gravity pulling you down on his cock even when he stopped moving, accommodating your second orgasm and allowing it to spill on the pristine floors of the bath freely. You not only had disgraced the Chrysos Heir now with your juices, but also your workplace. Even wiped up, you'd never forget your cum glistening on the stone. 

Phainon sighed as your body spasmed, wrapping tightly around his cock in waves of pleasure. Your brain felt muddy, the orgasms in quick successions taking their toll on you as you allowed your body to be laid back down on the ground next to your spurts of jizz that seemed to taunt you for your easily influenceable mind. Deep inside, you knew this was wrong, but after two ejaculations, you didn't have the strength to resist him anymore. 

Instead, you mewled, feeling Phainon's cock twitch inside you, still ready and eager to come himself. You met his eyes, a victorious grin on his lips as he watched you. Your reflection looked well-fucked and dazed, and you were, moaning softly as Phainon pressed down on you, imprisoning you between the ground and him. His hands fell to your thighs, picking them up and pressing them forward, and you whimpered as it allowed his cock to bury even deeper. You knew instinctively that when Phainon undoubtedly filled you with all his cum, he wanted it to be at the deepest point, the one that would drive you absolutely insane. And it was, every roll of his hips making you shudder and cry out from the overstimulation. 

His mouth found yours once more in a mix of hot breath and drool, the kiss so intense it felt like you were melting. Both of you had worked up quite a bit of sweat, too, your bodies slipping against each other as your ass was fucked raw. "Mhm, S-Sir…" you moaned, his body threatening to bury you beneath it as he kept pressing himself against you more and more. 

"P-Phainon. My name is Phainon," he replied, grasping for breath himself but smiling from ear to ear as if telling you that made him extremely happy. As if you didn't already know his name. Then again, he seemed disappointed when you asked him if you two knew each other, so introducing himself felt like a step forward in your non-existent relationship. 

"Phainon…" you called out to him awkwardly, intending to tell him to stop as you simply couldn't take it anymore. However, it had the opposite effect, his cock twitching inside you, causing you to clamp up. Both of you turned into a mess of gasps and moans, and instead of stopping, Phainon picked up the pace. You could tell he was close, and he placed his arms on either side of your head, plowing into you thoughtlessly. His whole body enveloped you, chest now closer to your face than his head as Phainon readied himself to fill you with his cum. Salty skin rubbed against your lips, and you caught a whiff of his natural scent mixed with the gentle aroma of the baths. 

He smelled almost like metal, which wasn't surprising for a trained warrior like him. The sharp iron mixed with the salt of his sweat, and there was a faint trace of your cum left, everything about Phainon smelling so manly. His smell was everywhere, on his arms to your sides and chest above you. Perhaps with his scent points on his neck and wrists so close, it was unavoidable for you to inhale it deeply. He was all around you, there was no escaping this man.

After tasting it for the first time, you found yourself craving more of this strange combo. Without thinking, you let your tongue out of your mouth, dragging it over his pecs until you hit his nipples. Unexpectedly, it was the straw that broke the camel's neck for Phainon, the sensation of you licking him making his eyes go wide as his voice got caught in his throat, a strained groan all that he could produce. Next thing you felt was the hot spill of his seed inside you, the fluids sloshing against the walls of your bowels.

Moaning loudly, your body forced itself against Phainon's. Even in the state of pure bliss, he managed to catch you with one arm, supporting you like a true gentleman as you grew slack, while he filled you up with his jizz. You two ended up in a messy tangle, and you couldn't think straight as he hugged you, cock still balls-deep inside your hole, kissing the side of your face. 

"You did great," he praised you. "I knew it was going to be good, but I could have never expected it to be this amazing."

When Phainon finally lifted himself off you, air stormed back into your lungs, clearing your head somewhat. Your feet curled up, legs trying to close, and you whimpered as his cock slowly pulled out, unplugging you so that spurts of white jizz left you violently. You felt utterly disgusted, semen, sweat, and lube clinging to you, but at least it was over. Tears rose in your eyes as you realized what Phainon had done. You wouldn't even be able to tell anyone, as no one would believe you that he had assaulted you.

Everything hurt as you forced yourself to move. Cum kept dripping down your legs as you stood up, taking a few weak steps and picking up your discarded underwear. All you wanted was to get away and never come back. Try to forget what happened and wash yourself until you were rid of the memories Phainon had left on your body. You'd need time to heal from all of this and especially to come to terms with the fact that your body obeyed and accepted his malice so easily. Everything from your body to the image you had of the hero was utterly defiled, and you felt so, so dirty. 

"Where are you going?" Phainon asked chipperly, and before you knew it, he had picked you up from behind. In all your self-pity, you had totally forgotten about him still being here. About the weird behavior he displayed and how strangely he spoke to you. This time, you used your nails to cling to him, wanting to give him just a little bit of the pain he had caused you. 

"Let me down!" you protested, your voice hoarse after all the moaning, but Phainon didn't listen. Instead, he carried you back into the bath, sitting down on the bench with you on his lap. You could feel his cock still hard and twitching between your legs, especially when Phainon moved forward, reaching for something behind you. You managed to stifle a moan, barely. It only needed a brief rub against his length for your body to shudder, remembering all of the abuse you had suffered. And yet, sitting in the warm, soothing bath made your body tingle in anticipation, almost as if you wanted more.

"Here, drink," Phainon chimed, pushing one of the glasses into your hands. It was filled to the brim with a liquid, and with horror, you realized it was the expensive beverage you had brought up here. Hesitating, you held it in your hands, glancing sideways towards your escape route, the elevator still waiting there for you like you had left it. 

Taking a swig of his own cup, Phainon tipped against yours, urging you silently. You hated the authority he had over you, but spilling the drink could give him more reason to blackmail you if he told everyone you poured some of it into the baths. Not risking it, you took a quick sip of it into your mouth, swallowing it eagerly as your body demanded more hydration. It tasted sweet and delicious and felt so good after what you had endured. 

"Want some fruit, too?" Phainon asked as he watched you drink. His free hand had found its way to your thigh again, kneading it softly. When you finally put your cup down, you noticed the fond sparkle in his eyes, his muscles completely relaxed. Part of you had assumed he'd treat you like a quick stress relief and throw you out the second he was done with his fun. However, he seemed content taking care of you after fucking you against your will. Unconcerned, that's what he was—the complete opposite of you.

"Why?" you whispered, still so many questions on your mind.

"Well, fruits have vitamins and are very good to regain some energy–"

"Why did you do this to me?"

Phainon shut up the second you interrupted him. Placing his cup down, he took a deep breath before facing you with a smile again, wrapping his arms around your waist leisurely. "I'm a warrior, I can't afford to have everything I want. So I had to choose, and I want you. I've wanted you ever since I first came to this place. It has always been you that I looked for in the crowds, and still, I can't take my eyes off you. I want you. I need you. And now, I don't think I can part with you ever again."

"That's… But I–"

Reaching behind you, Phainon picked an apple from the platter you had served him, biting into it as he listened to your stutter. That guy had no worries, it seemed, casually dropping a confession as if it was the easiest thing to say. Maybe after already making you familiar with his massive cock, he got a bit ahead of himself, thinking that everything had a price. 

"I am not a whore," you protested firmly, standing up for yourself for probably the first time that night. "You can't just ask for me and then force me to have sex with you! We don't even know each other!"

The sound of apple crunching began to annoy you as he kept eating while you spoke your mind. Only when you tried to get up and away from him did you get resistance, his hands grabbing your sides, pressing you back down on top of his lap. 

"You're not my whore," he relented, and you thought you saw a splash of disappointment in his eyes, only angering you further. "I was hoping you'd be my lover."

"I'll never be with someone who treats people like he wants, not even caring about their feelings."

"That's fine."

Phainon's gaze was focused as he said that, his voice unwavering. The response was too quick, too calculated. His fingers gripped tighter into your flesh, and you took a sharp breath to suppress the pain. Something about him had shifted; he felt… cold. Undeterred. As if he was about to make a necessary sacrifice.

But just as quickly, his smile returned, and he pushed the apple into your mouth, muffling your complaints. 

"Eat it. You'll need the strength for the next round," he announced, setting you down beside him before getting up and stepping in front of you. His cock bopped right in your line of sight, a clear indication of what he wanted next, considering he was ready to go again. 

"What?! No!" you yelled, throwing the apple away. Despite the awkward position, you moved to slip past Phainon, but he gripped you by the hair, pulling you back. You hissed in pain, only distracted when you felt his glans poke against your cheek, his entire length sliding up your face. 

"If I'm not the one you want to be with, I just have to become someone you won't want to leave, right? I can do that," Phainon announced, appearing to be proud of his deduction. You felt a shiver run through your body as you realized you were utterly overpowered. Before you stood a Chrysos Heir, known for his strength, stamina, and aptitude. And apparently, you were the enemy he needed to subdue, no matter how long it would take. 

The sweet, kind Phainon was actually… a psycho. 

"Please…" you whimpered softly, tears filling your eyes. "I don't want that."

"You'll get used to it. "We have all night, just us two. It's a dream come true, isn't it?"

Phainon smiled at you, gently cupping your face with his other hand, rubbing his thumb over your cheek comfortingly. But before you could even utter a reply, he rested his hand beneath your jaw, pinching into both your cheeks and forcing you to open wide. 

"Don't worry, sweetheart. I'll do everything in my power to make you love me."

[saeun]

এ phainon’s experience ᪲﹕ one kiss, one love ! ᪲ honkai: star rail ᧔ fem-reader.

࣪⊹ phainon gives his first kiss to his crush, you. he’s a bit shaky, but he’s got the spirit !!

+ extra: not beta (yet) ⸝ (pre 3.2) anaxa & mydei appearances ⸝ i desperately need to have phainon oml

“It’s never too late to go back home — just saying.” Anaxa gave you sincere advice, closing his book with one hand to re-direct his eyes on you.

You’re seated on the loveseat, straightened posture giving away how nervous you were. You didn’t need to stutter or swallow before speaking for the two boys to know you’re nervous. With such a stiff look it’s difficult for them to not tease you and Phainon indirectly.

Your lips stretch — it’s not a smile, but it’s not a frown either. It’s stretched in an awkward position, similar to you awkwardly shifting eye contact between Anaxa and Mydei. Sometimes you give them a nod, sometimes you go with a lifeless chuckle. It’s been a couple minutes since Phainon left to neaten up his room but gosh, the time couldn’t drag any slower.

“This is no way to treat a lady. He couldn’t have cleaned before?” Mydei scoffs, leaning back into the sofa with folded arms to emphasize his annoyance.

“What do you know about treating ladies?” Anaxa teases, but it’s a genuine question. One that came from the bottom of his heart.

Mydei raises an eyebrow, scanning the other boy before he licks his lips, “Watch your mouth, nature freak.”

“There’s nothing wrong with appreciating the green of the world. You wouldn’t understand — it’s okay, though, I get it.” Anaxa nods at the end.

Before their banter exploded, you quickly interrupted, cutting Mydei’s response off.

“How long have you guys known each other?”

A calm, small talk inducing question. You should give yourself a pat on the back.

“I don’t know him.” Almost as if they planned it, both Anaxa and Mydei replied with the same sentence.

You poke your inner cheek with your tongue, scratching the back of your neck at the tension rising between the two. Maybe it’s just you. After all, it seems like they’re just joking. Who knows!

A glaring contest begins. The cool eye from Anaxa meets the aggressive eyes from Mydei. And a third one that’s just here for fun. The third pair of eyes belonging to Phainon.

“What are we doing?” He questions, eyes making a triangular pattern between you, Anaxa, and Mydei.

Your heart jumps. You certainly weren’t expecting him to stand behind you with his hands on your shoulders. Such an entry is definitely Phainon’s style.

Mydei breaks the eye contact with Anaxa, immediately frowning at Phainon.

“Were you in there scratching your ass or what?”

“I got nervous.” Phainon admits.

“So you spent… twenty minutes being nervous… because of her?” Anaxa slowly asks, almost as if he can’t believe what he’s saying.

“More or less, yeah.” Phainon shrugs, feeling no shame in short circuiting. “Anyway, I need to borrow her, thanks!”

Without time to give your input, Phainon moves his hand lower to grip your wrist, gently pulling you off the loveseat and into his freshly cleaned room.

Once you're face-to-face with his door, he softly pushes you in first, following behind to lock the door. His room’s surprisingly minimalistic. A few toys here and there, a drone for whatever reason, and a sword’s sheath? You can’t tell if it’s fake or real.

“Nice room.” You compliment.

Phainon smiles, making a beeline to a corner to remove his sweater and then back to you. Once again, his hands find themselves on your shoulders, pushing you towards his bed.

You mimicked the same posture you used on the loveseat — fighting the itch to put a foot on the bed. You have to remind yourself it’s not your bed, It’s Phainon’s.

Phainon, however, doesn’t care whether you raise a foot or not. He’s in his mind contemplating if this is the right time to bring up the topic. He can’t last any longer hiding his feelings. Phainon’s running out of excuses — he blamed his sweaty palms on hyperhidrosis when in reality it’s because he gets nervous when you’re too close.

And this. Nothing is casual about bringing a girl into your private space — especially one shared with two others.

“Hey,” Phainon starts, drumming his fingers against his thigh to distract himself. “Can I ask a question?”

You hum, eyes following the rhythm of his fingers drumming his thigh.

“Have you, uh, ever wondered about relationships?” The question doesn’t quite come out the way Phainon imagined.

The expression on your face turns into a puzzled one. It’s not an odd question by any means, but it sure is a random one.

“Mmm, I have. Why?” You tilt your head, moving your eyes back to his.

“Do you want one?” Phainon swallows.

Suddenly the back of his head feels hot. The room feels hot, too. Although the air conditioner’s set on a temperature to battle the heat outdoors, so it should be anything but hot inside his room.

“Phainon what are you saying, honestly?”

Your second question went unanswered. Phainon bit his lip, praying that you can’t hear his heartbeat pounding against his chest. It’s almost deafening in his ear.

“Can I steal a kiss? Only if it’s okay.” He spoke with no shame but his eyes gave away the true feeling beneath.

You’re stunned for a moment. Sure, you had your suspicions being invited to his house would’ve gone somewhere, but not this fast! You’ve been in his room for less than thirty minutes, and there are two others.

Traveling your eyes from Phainon’s eyes, to his lips and back to his eyes, a teasing smile lights up your expression.

“Usually thieves don’t ask before they steal.”

“Is that a yes?” He’s hopeful, fighting back a smile himself. It’s a useless battle, however. The tips of his ears are already dusted in red.

Nodding, you lean in, licking your lips to moisturize them. You’re unsure of where the boost of confidence came from, but it’s here now. Any regrets will be handled tomorrow. You’re now under the influence of confidence.

Phainon’s hands move to cup your face, leaning down to place a light peck as though he’s testing the waters. His eyes remained open while yours are closed — so he goes for another kiss.

This time, he does it properly, shyly moving his against yours. Your lip balm transferred to his lips, but he doesn’t mind. Phainon’s in a trance; captivated by how soft your lips are. How light your hand on his thigh feels. How gentle he’s cupping your face. He’s lost in you, and it’s only the beginning of the trail.

Breaking the kiss, you keep your eyes on his lips, moving your hand to his now plumped lips. There’s a slight tint of red on them — must’ve originated from your lip balm.

Phainon’s head rests on your shoulder. Reality hit him a bit too late. He’s boldly asked if he can steal a kiss when he has no experience in the field whatsoever. His heart’s racing against his chest and the back of his neck feels warm.

He can’t understand how you’re calm after kissing. Have you done it before — never mind. He won’t sour his own mood.

“You okay?” You softly asked, raising a hand to comb through his hair.

“Yeah.” Phainon whispered, allowing himself to enjoy your fingers raking through his strands before sitting up.

“So… Can we do that again?” A boyish grin debuts on Phainon’s face. Aside from cringing at himself, he can’t believe he shared his first kiss with you.

[manytoonepoet]

Hiya! I'm not the same anon who brought up the shipping thing with Aglaea and Cipher. But I was very interested in their perspective and your perspective while answering them as well. So I hope you don't mind that I add on a bit with my own thoughts (feel free to ignore if it gets too long haha)

Admittedly, sometimes I feel as if I might be a hater or just anti-ship, but recently I've been reflecting and realise that it's not the ships I'm against. It's that it feels like it's being forced onto me. Anon also mentioned shippers going into non-shippers' posts to "spread their agenda", and if you don't agree, you're a hater and you're blind to what's implied in the story.

I think this might be the fundamental problem. Why can we not live with notion that people have different understandings of the dynamics between characters? Why must something be "canon" because you believe there was evidence of it? Keyword being "believe", because nothing is canon unless Hoyo explicitly states it.

You mentioned that moment when Phainon said "it's a date" to Mydei and oh wow I got kinda peeved when a lot of people seemingly reduced it to evidence that their ship is canon. A date doesn't just have romantic connotations, it's a promise to meet again. And in this context, it's a tragic and bittersweet promise between two comrades made during a time when neither can live a truly peaceful life but probably wished they could (also on a similar note, Mydei telling Phainon "I wish you could come visit my library". Same thing.)

Really long rant, but it just feels like romantic connections seem to be prized above all other types of relationships. Why? I got no clue, but it just seems that way. God forbid people be friends and comrades and family without wanting to kiss. Anyway, just my thoughts, because it feels rare to see posts like this and I just wanted to share my perspective as well. Thank you for reading all that haha!

Hi, Anon! Oh, I most definitely agree. As for why? Well, from what I've personally seen, it's usually either self-projection or aesthetic pornography. Or both. Many of these people claim it's a plea for representation, but really, it's a demand for attention. If it were truly a plea for representation, then why reduce a character to a dynamic such as "a gay sub" or "a daddy dom" and more? If it were truly a plea for representation, then why reduce a character to their potential abilities in bed and the size of their genitalia? If it were truly a plea for representation, then why reduce a character to such a skin-deep degree that a series of forcibly pasted labels will be the only thing you can see? Is this how you truly want to be represented? In such a dirty and carnal way? I understand that there might be people who will be triggered by these questions, but these are questions I have to ask, and you should too. All of us should.

Going back to Phainon and Mydei, these two are one of the many examples of what will happen if we don't consider those questions above, and I must say, I couldn't be any happier than I already am now that I've seen someone who sees the moment when Phainon said "It's a date" as a farewell and a promise between comrades, not lovers. Because, you see, that phrase can and is used to mark another meeting between two or more people, and even if one would argue that the bond between them is beyond friendship, that doesn't mean that they're lovers as well. As I've initially said in this post, a platonic bond between Mydei and Phainon is possible and is experienced by real people. Romance is not the end-all be-all to every relationship, same-sex or otherwise.

Friendships. Romantic Relationships. Families. All of them are important in their own way, so to argue that this person's view of the two characters' relationship is wrong because there's no way the bond between them is platonic is simply fallacious. So there is no use in arguing because one, a person has the right to their own opinions, and two, until there are no official statements made, nothing is canon.

[flower-seeks-the-moon]

what gorgo's ring saw

gorgo's ring saw- love, forged in battle speartip to thigh, sword to heart love, torn from a grasping hand reaching for a child lost to sea a babe who never knew the tenderness of his mother's arms golden blood spills into the deep and gorgo's ring is lost love, reforged in strife ten days and nights, blades and hearts locked stronger for it, lacking guile or deception and gorgo's ring saw helpless, alone once again a departure, the edge of dawn a son crowned in blood a throne lost and found a confession unsaid, and a sword in his back.

ao3

[raindailies]

❝ ── VALENTINE'S REMEDY ❞ 

❤︎ ❝ it's you.. it has always been you. ❞  

(mydei x gn!reader ; phainon x gn!reader) !!

८ sypnosis. valentine's day with : PHAINON & MYDEI !! (seperately). sfw. fluff. crack, gender neutral reader — MORDEN DAY AU . ؛ ଓ

@ warnings; none ! all fluff & cutesy valentines (๑﹏๑ ) ⋆

── notes. this valentines, i deliver this to you (˶˃ ᵕ ˂˶) , originally, i planned to have much more characters than mydei & phainon, but there are so many things happening that i couldn't do that — enjoy, nevertheless! I hope you all had a good valentine's day yesterday ♡

ᝰ.ᐟ PHAINON — cooking date.. ?

(wc : 997)

⟡ "(name)! I've decided—we should cook together for valentines!" Phainon proposes. Your face utterly falls at his word is absolute and full horror at the thought. Oh no. If there was one thing you should know about being Phainon's lover, is that he is horrid at cooking, unfortunately, you had to learn this the hard way. (e.g, your house coming close to catch fire if you hadn't stopped his myriad of senseless trouble)

⟡ "Are you sure? I mean—what if we just.. go to a café or—"

⟡ "No way! I wanna make cookies with you!" Phainon only implored further at your admittedly weak rebuttal, his demeanor akin to that of a beaming light (or a beaming puppy), you could only make an effort to avoid his eager gaze as he awaited your reply. 

⟡ After a beat of hesitance and silence, Phainon pretty much tackled you onto the couch, one arm wrapped around your waist, the other rested on your forearm, pulling you impossibly closer to his own body, lowering his chin to rest comfortably on your shoulder with a huff, the cheeky grin still ever present on his lips as you tried to wrestle yourself out of his hold, muttering weak protests, which proved impossible in a matter of a second when you realized his muscles weren't just for show. "C'mon, can't my lovely partner and valentines indulge in my well-versed fantasy of baking together~?"

⟡ Thus, led you two to where you were now. Valentine's day was supposed to be cutesy, right? Maybe sharing a sundae, kissing under the sunset sky that boarded the horizons with a soft tint—instead of the intricate (admittedly, delusional) scenarios that you were conjuring just days prior, now, you are subjected to cooking with Phainon. 

⟡ "(name)! Is the sugar supposed to be this flaky? And it's a little salty." Phainon exclaimed, remnants of 'sugar' on his fingers as he test-tasted them in his mouth, you looked over in horror.

 ⟡ "That's salt! You don't add that much salt to cookies?!" You shrieked. Things were going so well!! How were you supposed to know Phainon couldn't differentiate sugar from salt? As you tried to scoop out the salt from the mixture of butter, eggs, and vanilla extract, you spared a glance to see Phainon looking at you expectedly, his eyes were that of a puppy, and you knew him well enough to know that he was sulking, and you couldn't bare it in your heart to scold him (you did it anyways).

⟡ Your boyfriend was a basketball player, a real good one, sure—you didn't know that would affect his baking skills, though. Phainon (read: attempted) to throw the egg into the mixture, stance that of a basketball throw, only for the egg to splatter onto the ground. One ominous call of his name from you, got the white-haired male quickly begging for mercy, splutters of "I'm sorry! (name)! H-hey, please put down that knife!" cascaded from his hurried begs. 

⟡ "Hand me the flour." You noted, feeling a bag soon resting in your hand, however—as you poured, you decided to spare a glance at the bag. You inwardly sigh to yourself, catching Phainon's back collar to turn his face around, forcing him to take a good look at the bag. "This is baking soda!" Unfortunately, Phainon only offered a sheepish grin before hastily freeing himself out of your hold, in fear, probably.

⟡ You'd love to say his misfit of troubles stopped there, but it definitely didn't. You almost curse your whole ascenstor's family tree when Phainon called again. "(name)...? Uh, is the microwave supposed to be glowing?" You looked back hesitantly. Yes, the microwave was glowing. With a metal bowl inside of it. I love my boyfriend. I love my boyfriend. I love my boyfrie—

⟡ "How much longer?" Phainon was then exempt from further participation in the baking, sulking, he attached himself to your back, subjected to only being able to watch you bake, due to his tendencies to cause a mess in the kitchen. "Wait a bit, you really are impatient." His arms wrapped around your waist, your back met his chest, and he lowered his head to rest on your shoulder as you mixed the bowl of ingredients with a practiced technique. You could almost feel his sullen pout despite not looking at him. 

⟡ When you pulled the cookies out of the oven, Phainon was quick on his feet behind you, shuffling to get a closer look (and, hand sticking out to try and grab one but was quickly dismissed by your own hand grabbing his to cease his quick-witted endeavor). The cookies were chocolate flavored, something Phainon insisted, saying it's 'valentine' coded, and sprinkled with specks of pink sprinkles, in Phainon's eyes—they look like heaven sent offerings from the goddess that you embodied.. maybe an exaggeration. 

⟡ "Say ahh." You held a cookie to his face, to which he immediately beamed, opening his mouth as he awaited the dessert to be delivered to his mouth, when it did, he instantly smiled—if Phainon did have a tail, you imagine it'd be wagging right then. 

⟡ In a moment of unfocused haze, Phainon cupped your cheeks into his much larger palm, pressing his (chocolate infused) lips onto yours, in turn, making you nearly shriek in surprise. You tasted a faint chocolate savor against his unexpectedly soft lips, you're only left still dumbfounded when he pulled away.

⟡ "C'mon, yer gonna watch me eat, or will you eat your own phenomenal cooking, too?" Phainon grinned, a boyish smile overcame his features as he slid a hand through the tufts of his white hair.

⟡ ".. Yeah yeah, alright." Perhaps this valentine wasn't actually that bad, you hummed to yourself, tasting a cookie, relishing in your boyfriend's cheerful expressions. The cookies tasted saltier than they should, but you found yourself not minding. 

⟡ Still.. you make a mental note to keep Phainon out of the kitchen.

ᝰ.ᐟ MYDEI — arcade date !!

(wc: 1174)

⟡ "Try to beat me." Mydei grinned, a competitive look rose in his eyes, you almost scoffed, your hand tightening on the console handle. 

⟡ Currently, the two of you were situated at an arcade. Now, you’re not sure what Mydei’s idea of a fun valentine’s day is, but apparently to him, it was a competition. For goodness’s sake, doesn’t he get enough competition in his basketball matches? But despite all odds, you were still swooned by the competitive man, and you really can’t lie because Mydei being competitive also makes you competitive in turn. 

⟡ “Please, indulge me, o strongest of all.” You beamed back, a combative shine coating both of your eyes, neither of you broke eye contact. Only when the game’s ‘ancient’-like machine erupted a small, distorted, “game start!”, did you and Mydei consecutively locked in, eyes fixed on each’s little pixelated character. 

⟡ The valentines date, turned out to be one big, competitive game to you both—and to no one’s surprise, Mydei kept tally of each wins he got. “I win. (name), it almost feels as if you’re letting me win on purpose, don’t go easy on this boyfriend of yours!” Mydei grinned, his arm slung over your shoulder casually, a shit-eating smirk painted over his face as he made absolutely no effort to conceal the pleasure he attained. You could only stare at the ‘GAME OVER!” words on your own arcade machine (indubitably, a bit pouty). 

⟡ However, once he noticed your sullen mood, Mydei quickly panicked, a rushed ‘oh shit’ nearly escaped his mouth, but he was quick to shut it, he mentally scolded himself inside of his head, before ushering you for one more game, this time, he wanted to raise your mood, rather than anything, as fun as it was winning for him, it was much better when he sees you smile. 

⟡ When you do win, you swiftly whirled to Mydei with the brightest smile on your face, finger pointing at the screen that showed Mydei’s pixelated character in a defeated position, while yours did some tacky emote dance with 90’s music singing from the machine. He smiled, ruffling your hair in leisure, ignoring your slight protests of “don’t mess up my hair?!” 

⟡ “C’mon,” Mydei held up the arcade card between his pointer and middle finger with a smirk visible on his face, bringing his gaze to the other arcade game machines, ”You wanna miss t’day and all the money I spent on you, or you wanna play more?” He leaned closer—leaving your heart stubbornly speeding up. 

⟡ Thus, the two of you spent your valentines in the arcade game spot for around 5 hours at best—creating pompous feuds and rivalry for the sake of it, but for some reason, you couldn’t help but notice Mydei lost more times than you’d think he would, I mean, no offense, but he play games like anytime he’s free, surely he should’ve won each feuds easily? Before you could rack your mind on his foreign behavior, the air hockey immediately slotted itself into your goal as you let your mind wander, causing you to lose a point, much to your horror. “Hey! My eyes are up here! Ya losin’ already, (name)?”

⟡ You sent a glare to his direction, picking up the hockey from your goal to immediately fling to his direction with your mallet, only for the hockey to (somehow??) fly up and hit Mydei square in the face, so, you technically did achieve a headshot, just not in the goal. 

⟡ “Holy shit—I’m sorry! So sorry! Mydei, are you okay?!” You spluttered, hand hovering in all directions over his face as he rubbed his palm on the area where the hockey quite literally pounded him, Mydei raised a hand to stop your stuttering, a grin broke out of his (pathetically) kind of painstrucken face, obviously, it was bound to hurt. 

⟡ Putting aside the rough. . encounter, Mydei only brushes you off, “It’s okay,” he’d said, before adding, “but I don’t know . . a kiss might make it even better?” good to know that Mydei’s brain, on the contrary, hasn’t changed. You thought. 

⟡ The rest of the day went on without any further casualties, basketball games (to no one’s surprise, Mydei surpassed the original highest score, earning himself a spot in the leaderboard), racing games (you somehow won this one, where you immediately hopped up and down with Mydei’s hand in yours, you didn’t look back then, but if you did, the sickly love struck face on Mydei’s face looking at you fondly would’ve probably imploded you from the inside out), dancing games (Mydei slipped and nearly fell on you–but with his muscular stature, he caught himself and you from falling in public, thank god no one was there to witness), and . . claw machines, which personally, agitated you.

⟡ “.. Move over, let me try.” Mydei groaned, weary of watching you fail time and time again to get a pink-ish red cat from the claw machine that just kept bouncing further away from the blissful exit everytime you moved the claw, to the point where you were one touch closer to crashing out in public, given your.. shortcoming. 

⟡ For some sicken reason–as if the gods were taunting you, Mydei was able to grab the cat plush toy on his first try, your mouth agape as it jeeringly falls into the exit slot, where Mydei took it into his hand to dangle the plush in front of your face with a shit-eating grin, a look of triumphant curled on the tips of his attempted nonchalance. 

⟡ “I hate you.” Grumbling, you still took the plushie into your arms.

⟡ “Say that all you want, darlin’, I know you love me.” 

⟡ ... as the two of you left the arcade, hand held in each other's, intertwined, some imaginative cupid floating around bow in hand, as a small (delusional) cacophony of choir song hummed, an unexpected popped from behind a counter.

⟡ “See, Aggy, they do get along well!” Tribbie’s cheerful voice rang, as they hid behind a counter–not in a conspicuous location at all, Castorice nodded, hopeful for her friend. 

⟡ “.. I suppose I was worried for naught. (name) is in good hands, then.” Aglaea smiled, despite the 3 girls still being hunched under a counter. Without context, they looked more like stalkers, than friends ‘passing by’ and deciding to spy. 

⟡ “Mydei is. . strange. But I believe he really does like (name).” Castorice hummed, her voice, soft and delicate, in contrast to Tribbie’s cheerful tone, and Aglaea’s calming timbre. 

⟡ “Well, since we’re here already, Aggy, Cas, let’s go play some games!” 

⟡ (PS. word has it that you gave Mydei handmade chocolate earlier during the day?! Also, Mydei was practically shaking, the tips of his ears a burning red when he received the chocolate you so delicately made and packaged in a red-tinted heart box. Don’t tell anyone–but I heard from a little bird that this same man giggled to himself after the arcade date ( ꈍ◡ꈍ) !)

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

NOTES:

- 43 rmb chinese yuan - $5, or wtv currency you have - kevin kaslana sucks at cooking (read: made kitchen appliances run for their life), therefore, phainon fucking sucks at cooking, no debates you take what you can get. - it is REALLY hard to write Mydei in modern au, considering like literally what would this guy be agitated about? But i consider him to be someone that yearns for the normalcy, rather than the chaos he shrouds himself in, similarly to kalpas from hi3. I think of Mydei as someone who is more suited for a modern life, no fights, violence, just peace - but he is always destined to end back at the aggression of the battlefield. haha!! - Phainon is so stupid i love him he's like a kicked puppy LMAO

❝ i blinked, and suddenly i have a valentine . . ? ❞ 

[gojover]

[2:41 a.m.] ⋆ “look, i love you and all, but can you please, for the sake of all things good and holy, come to bed?”

phainon, hunched over the counter, back to you, doesn’t even glance up. he carefully drizzles icing over a tray of star-shaped cookies. there’s flour on his sleeves, on his jaw, in his hair. another tray sits cooling beside him, and a third is already half-eaten—presumably by him.

“you weren’t supposed to see this yet,” he mumbles, tongue poking out slightly in focus. “it was meant to be a surprise.”

“a surprise at two in the morning?”

“it’s two-forty-one, actually.”

“even worse,” you sigh.

he straightens slowly, flexing his fingers, then glances back at you with a sheepish smile. “i couldn’t sleep. and the dough was already resting, so…”

you wander over, arms folding around his waist from behind. he’s warm. smells like sugar and cinnamon. “you’re crazy,” you mutter into his back.

he leans into you, tilting his head to rest against yours. “i made your favourites.”

“i know. that’s why i’m still here instead of dragging you back to bed by the collar.”

you reach over and pluck a cooled cookie from the tray, nibbling the edge while he watches for your approval.

“it’s good,” you say. “too good, actually. like, suspiciously good.”

“i had a muse.”

you nudge his hip with yours. “flirt.”

“guilty.”

“come back to bed.”

“okay.”

[azen13]

CW: Yandere Themes, Stalking, Bathing Together, Non-Sexual Intimacy, Spoilers for HSR 3.0 Main Story

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

I've had some time to sit with 3.0, and so I wanted to just ramble a little bit about Yandere!Phainon! I loved him in-game and definitely hope to write about him as I get to know his character more.

He's not cruel. Far from it, his presence is like the kiss of sunlight on morning dew. Instead, he's protective to the point where he seems to bear down on you at every waking moment. You might simply be going for a walk in Marmoreal Market trying to buy some goods for dinner and you'll find yourself bumping into Phainon, his voice effulgent. But with light comes shadows, and you can feel his more possessive intentions lurking between the letters of his words. He exclaims what a wonderful coincidence this is, but you know better. A coincidence can only live for so long before it sheds its skin and reveals an artificial nature, and you can see right through every single one of Phainon's translucent excuses.

Even though he longs to wake up and fall asleep with you by his side, he does a good job of keeping the compulsion to take you home at bay for some time. His conveniently-timed coincidences allow him the opportunity to escort you from place-to-place and bask in your radiance. If he gets lucky, he can persuade you to let him accompany you to the baths. Even though it's against the rules, he enjoys bringing you to the Hero's Bath and taking his time washing your hair. His hands weave through your hair masterfully, his fingertips occasionally ghosting the skin of your shoulders. You may not let him be close to you, but he always finds a way to claim you as his own in public: a hand wrapped around your shoulders, or tousling your hair, or even reaching for your own hand. In his mind, you are a hero, the savior of a heart shattered beyond repair by countless losses. For that reason, he cannot let you go; no matter how wrong it may be in your eyes, perceptions can be easily changed, and he will do whatever it takes to show you that your life will be perfect with him. Spur, strike, scorn him as you'd like, you cannot escape his presence and power. It'd be a fool's errand to leave Okhema with the state Amphoreus is in, and Phainon isn't just some commoner with no public status who you can simply avoid. On the contrary, he has a multitude of tools at his disposal to help ensnare you in his control. And, if you still somehow fight against him, he can always plead with Aglaea for her to intertwine your fate with his.

No matter what you do, where you go, or how you fight him, Phainon will make himself the sun of your heart, pulling you into his orbit and never letting you go. Ever.