𝓘𝐒𝐈𝐑𝐀𝐇. ···✦ nicknames are allowed, any. eighteen. she ৲ her. infp-t, 6w5. genshin and star rail centric sfw writing blog. link to my carrd. my selfshipping blog!
◜···✦ links -> ( masterlist, byf/dni, mutuals, taglist, about me, tags )
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◟···✦ @millurie is my most precious treasure.
it's like. it's easier to start a new painting from scratch rather than trying to fix all the little mistakes you made from a defined base layer even though you put a lot of work in it. if that makes sense?
hello !!! i don’t know how many people would see this because of my shadowban (^^;) i’ll be moving to @amorsial from now on.
this might come as abrupt, but this lingering feeling has been in my mind for a long time. not only because of the glitched shadowban i’ve been hit with, but i’ve also always felt out of place using the blog name “millurie”, and has since fallen out of love with it.
of course, it breaks my heart having to let go of something i cherish so dearly, but there are quite a few things that i’d like to leave behind for now and start anew. i’m sorry for any inconvenience this might cause.
everything at the new blog will operate like usual. i’ll repost works that i’m proud of and let this entire account be an archive to sometimes yearningly look back to LOL.
so !!! let’s hope tumblr doesn’t bully me again T^T because nothing brings down mila !!!!! my love for writing and this community as a whole can never be defeated by a mere bully >:(
i’ll see you in the new space if you’ll have me ^^ and as for millurie… thank you for everything.
p.s : reblogs of this post would be greatly appreciated if you see this LOL, because well i am… shadowbanned T^T
it's like. it's easier to start a new painting from scratch rather than trying to fix all the little mistakes you made from a defined base layer even though you put a lot of work in it. if that makes sense?
like. i'll make a 'lots of effort' and pretty blog with everything formatted. and it'll be mostly fic things to all my bullshit and non fic things would only be on main
it's like. it's easier to start a new painting from scratch rather than trying to fix all the little mistakes you made from a defined base layer even though you put a lot of work in it. if that makes sense?
hi thank you for the interesting analysis of minajael's design! if it's not too much trouble, can you explain the al-rajah vs ar-rajah bit for us non-arabic speakers?
this post explains it better than i could. essentially there are sun and moon letters which dictate the how the lam (ل) which is the l bit in al is pronounced. reh (ر) which is r in rajah is a sun letter! so the lam is silent (as sun letters voice the lam and moon letters make it silent). think about it as a(l)-rajah rather than al-rajah, but we will write it as ar-rajah. hope this makes some sense, ehe~
:3 blog theme :33 i'm sure i am so late to this but we ignore that............... WAAAAAAH IT'S SO GOOD T^T the overlay color gives it such a vibe... #WeLoveMadamYaoGuang AND I LOVE U !!!!!!!!!!!
omgies milu in my inbox after all these years haii!!!! (づ> v <)づ YAH YOU'RE LATE but yesyes we ignore that!! THANKIES i'm actually not done and i forgot about my blog for a bit so i'll have to do that... but thank you!! i put quite a lot of effort into the overlay color since i scrapped three different kinds assets last minute for different colors and characters since i'm super indecisive! YAO GUANG IS SO GOREGOUS AJHAHAHAHH AND i loves you too!!!!! ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و ♡ 🌷🌷
SUMMARY — an injury on your foot that caused you to miss your dinner reservation for valentine's wasn't the only thing that was on alhaitham's mind. ( 1.2k word count ) this is my district99 event post!! regular, prompt 5!
CONTENT — some jealousy, reader has a foot injury, alhaitham might be ooc, not proofread, some bits for the kaveh kissers.
“...Stop looking at me like that, Alhaitham.” You muttered weakly as your lover’s piercing stare bored into you. That look, that seemed to unravel each of your every thoughts, and yet did nothing to decipher the flittings of your eyes — down at the floor, way past him, and then, momentarily, right into his turquoise eyes.
Truthfully, Alhaitham didn’t blame you for your bandaged up foot, not at all. It wasn’t quite your fault that Kaveh had shattered a vase on accident (?) and you’d went and stepped on the glass, was it? Nor, by extension, was it your fault that you were currently lying on your bed, too; although the usual restlessness that he’d eventually associated with you was all but present now as you tried to get up.
He had no difficulties stopping you.
“It’s fine, Haitham! I’m fine. A little injury won’t stop us from going on our dinner reservation, will it?” Alhaitham was strong, and very much so. You huffed as his arm, already wrapped around you in a protective hold, tightened again, as if telling you you are not leaving your bed today.
And honestly, he thought he was going out of his depth at some fancy restaurant one of his friends told him to go to with you for Valentine’s. Shame this had to happen, huh? “...You’re injured. It would be quite inconvenient to spend the day out and about. So it’s best if we just spend the day at home.”
He knew how badly you wanted to go. And he didn’t care. For someone as emotionally reserved and closed off as he was, that didn’t mean he prioritized that book he’s always into above you all the time. Joke.
And yet, as you grumbled about bad timing or what not, his gaze was fixed on the minor cut on your forearm. Less damaging than the stitches you needed to get on your foot, but the memory of the incident clouded his eyes with something unreadable all the same.
He still remembered how as he strolled towards the kitchen as soon as he heard the glass break, he didn’t think much of it, not even as he heard Kaveh’s mumbles laced with worry, and then he heard a wince. As the kitchen came into view, his gaze immediately zeroed in on the two of you crouching on the floor.
Alhaitham observed in silence as Kaveh attended to the small cut on your arm. It was a simple gesture of care and concern, and yet; he couldn't shake the tight coil of tension that had settled in his chest. Perhaps it was the way the two of you leaned into each other. The way your faces were closer than necessary for such a mundane task, albeit Kaveh spoke to you gently, clearly apologising. He didn’t understand.
The two of you looked at each other as he tied one of his handkerchiefs around your cut as a makeshift bandage. “Thanks, Kaveh.” Alhaitham didn’t miss that look — that look of warmth that passed, as if they were sharing an intimate moment with each other. Intimacy that didn’t include him. He even imagined Kaveh’s hands lingering a little longer than necessary. At last, he made his presence known.
“Ahem, we actually have bandages here.” The two of you looked up at each other simultaneously. “It’s more hygienic than a handkerchief. …we don’t have plasters.”
You stared up at your lover, eyes blank. It was a small wound, so you didn’t really think a bandage was needed. It didn’t matter, you said, and something about your indirect push to keep his handkerchief left him feeling a little odd.
And after a surprisingly brief shouting match with Kaveh for being so careless that he caused you a few cuts (and later, stitches on your foot), he decided to take you to get patched up, and then back to your place to rest.
After a minute’s silent recollection, Alhaitham’s gaze dropped towards a neatly folded up and cleaned handkerchief sitting tidily on your bedside as his thoughts dissipated and was replaced by a question he realized he didn’t know how to ask. He bit his cheek, unsure of what to say. Odd. The handkerchief burned in his peripheral like a glaring accusation.
Is there something between you two? burned in his throat. And yet he knew some way, somehow, he was yours. At least outwardly. Jealousy was not, he felt, an emotion he had any use of, but who knew what was going on inwardly? Why, to him, did it feel like you two were closer than you and himself would ever be?
“...You kept it. His handkerchief.”
The accusation clung to his curt words, if you caught it at all. It wasn’t like himself. He prided himself on being the rational, level-headed and logical one. So why… why did you still have it? He shook his head. Ridiculous. You looked at him with genuine surprise, eyebrows furrowed in deep thought, your gaze going to and from himself and the handkerchief., as if trying to draw a conclusion. “I didn’t get a chance to give it to him…?”
“Really? That’s all?”
“...That’s all? Of course, what else? What, did you think I kept it ‘cause— Oh.” Now it was your gaze that seemed to shoot down any defenses he put up. He stared down at you too. Causing you to tilt your head. He deigned to look away, somehow, before you sighed heavily.
“I knew it had to be something like that. Well, you don’t usually get this annoyed at me when i get myself sick or injured or something. …Sorry.”
Surprise coloured his face. “What are you apologizing for?”
“What do you think?”
“It isn’t my fault that I… I…” Thought there was something going on? Felt like you and Kaveh shared a bond he would never be able to form with you? Silently believed you finally saw someone who was better for you?
Of course, you hit the nail on the head. Simple. “Got jealous of Kaveh?”
And Alhaitham, unused to such conversations, didn’t know how else to explain it that didn’t make him feel more illogical. “...I suppose.”
“...You know I really love you, right?” You forced him to stare back into your eyes. “Yes, Kaveh and I are close… So what? I love you. I chose you.” Those last few words were all it took for Alhaitham to regret his… insecurity, he supposed. Moments of intimacy with him were seldom, but right then, he pressed a delicate kiss to your lips, one that you graciously accepted. This was why he loved you, he thought.
After a moment’s silence, he spoke, somewhat tentatively. “So...What would you like to do today? Provided we stay at home for our date activities.”
“My choice??” You beamed.
“Your choice.” He smiled, if even slightly, at the enthusiasm of your tone as you started listing off all the ways you could spend the rest of the day with him. After all, he’d went ahead and cleared his schedule, just for today.
Just for you.
PAIRINGS — phainon x gn!reader (royal/historical au).
SUMMARY — phainon swore he hated you. but when you get poisoned, he doesn't know if he'll ever see you again, and that scares him. ( 4.8k word count )
CONTENT — hurt/comfort, angst, implied character death, poisoning, reader is called pretty (though this is gn), amphoreus gang is alive! some things are based of off my own culture, things i've seen and others. one named and unnamed character for plot. ooc? maybe rushed ending. thank you to @your-sleeparalysisdem0n for proofreading!
TAGLIST — @lysarion.
Finally.
Somewhere in the kingdom of Okhema, up in the hills, the royal palace stood tall and imposing, as if reinforcing the idea that the royals had all the power over the kingdom. The afternoon sun revealed itself, warm and glorious, as a certain commander of the guard completed his daily training.
Phainon raised his left arm to wipe the beads of sweat on his forehead with the back of his hand after dropping his wooden sword on the ground, which clattered momentarily next to him. He collapsed down on the training ground floor, trying to catch his breath after a long training session. With an expression of fatigue, his fleeting moment of serenity was interrupted when the gongs sounded, a rhythmic clanking alerting the palace — and soon, the rest of the kingdom — that, along with the sun today, the start of summer had arrived.
Summer…
Reluctantly, Phainon’s thoughts swirled back to last summer solstice. He was training, but he wasn’t alone; for he had his darling co-commander of the guard training alongside him that afternoon. Filled with laughter and chatter, he felt safe, at home; training with you was always a delight. Now, the beginning of summer only served to irritate him — he knew he would only be reminded of you. And other things that he couldn’t bring himself to remember.
“I never want to see you again!”
Now, you were the person he despised the most. The person he held nothing but scathing hatred for.
And his mood dampened even more when he thought of the great feast being held in the evening. Another thing ruined by you — or rather, by your fallout. His seat was always allotted right next to you. At the very least, he wasn’t required to attend dinners; his space was a mere formality.
But this dinner wasn’t up to him to decide whether or not he wanted to come. It was mandatory, and that meant seeing your face for the first time in weeks. The last time he was given the displeasure of seeing you was when you had to plan an attack on some enemy soldiers in the village, but even that short meeting was more than he could bear. How would he be able to do this?
Phainon didn’t usually see your face around here after your fallout. Even though it’d been months since he’d ended his friendship with you, it was always an odd feeling, that you were no longer allowed to stay with him. Even though the rest of the world had no idea what had happened; it was a personal matter. For all they knew, you and him were just as close as ever.
But, Phainon supposed, the summer solstice celebration was indeed crucial to your kingdom. He sighed, a sound that sounded more like a surly scoff than anything, and slowly stood up. Somehow, he was going to force himself to endure this. He had to, though.
–
Even trying to talk to someone who wanted nothing to do with you proved to be more difficult than you could possibly imagine. You had to, though.
“Phainon! Phainon, wait!” You rushed after him, the desire to tell him what you wanted to becoming a need. He could hear you for sure, but you were certain that he was ignoring you — this was something you often practiced yourself, after all — ignoring people if you were in no mood to talk. You increased your pace before turning and halting in front of him, trying your best to ignore the glare he gave you and how it never failed to slice through your fragile heart. But you had decided a long time ago that he should never see you crumble again. “Phainon…”
He regarded you, indignant and visibly vexed by your stubborn self, but looked away. Clearly, he wasn’t going to talk to you, so you had to just come out with it before he lost his patience with you outright. “Phainon, listen to me.” You made sure nobody was listening in on you before whispering quietly. “…Someone here is after your life. I don’t know what for. I don’t know who it is. I only know this much. Be careful — Please.”
He believed your words the moment they left your lips.
Though it didn’t show outwardly, he considered your words. You don’t lie to him. Not even nowadays. And the panic in your tone… But how would you know this to begin with? He wished he hadn’t shoved past you so that he wouldn’t have to come back and ask, but now he’d moved on, and now he’d have to believe you. And it seemed one of the princes had caught your attention; it would be rude to come back into the conversation. Somebody was trying to kill him, huh? He’d better watch out.
–
There was much enthusiasm and spirit in the air of the banquet hall, you had to admit. It was all so lovely; it always was. But you were certainly not keen on seeing Phainon again. No, you wanted to, but you couldn’t say the same thing about him who’d spoken so harshly to you, venom dripping down his lips the day that…
That…
The thoughts plaguing your mind suddenly receded, and you were happy to be given a brief moment of respite from guilt… though even that subsided quickly at the sight of your co-commander. Who, by the way, did not try to glance your way even once — almost as though he was forcing himself to do so. No. He hated you for sure.
Though it was the expected reaction, you couldn’t deny the painful pang in your chest. Maybe a part of you thought he would treat you kindly after your warning, perhaps? It was a foolish thought, one that vanished as quickly as it had entered your delusional mind.
The tension between the two of you was almost palpable. Throughout the speeches from the king, and all that followed before the servants with dishes in hand streamed into the hall, lining up the table in colorful rows of food that would usually make your mouth water, but you felt your stomach tighten incessantly. A maid that had put food on your plate gave it to you, the sign to start soon — though the food looked positively wretched, what with the queasy feeling in your stomach. You wanted out.
Ignoring it, you began your meal. It was all fine at first, other than a food making its way on your plate that you swore you had told the maid you hated, she knew that. And then, the first waves of nausea coursed through your body. Your lungs closed, tightened, a headache coming on too. Phainon mustn't have realized, but that was better for you. You hastily excused yourself, making your way to your bedroom. And surely, you couldn’t have possibly known that that was the last time you’d ever leave your bedroom for a long time.
–
“Happy Summer Solstice, Commander!”
After that lavish dinner, which Phainon felt he couldn’t have hated more even if he tried, he was ready to retire to his bed. But while he made his way to his room, while a handful of servants offered him a Happy Summer Solstice paired with respectful bows, his ears caught on something he heard Lady Tribbie utter to Lady Aglaea.
“...Commander [Name] was poisoned, Agy.”
All of Phainon’s movements ceased. Now he froze in place, and his heart leapt in his throat. You? Poisoned? There was no way. But it made sense, nonetheless. Your obvious discomfort during the dinner — that, in all honesty, he believed he was the cause of — and you had even left a little earlier as well. What had happened? Tribbie continued, as if reading his thoughts.
“Yes, they could not breathe, and when they went to their room, the maids claimed they heard a loud thud and when they checked, Commander [Name] had collapsed. Once they were able to wake them up… they started vomiting… they had a splitting headache, they were dizzy… and the medics don’t understand what’s wrong with them. That they look as though they’ll get worse.”
“It seems like a very potent poison,” Lady Aglaea hummed thoughtfully. “I shall discreetly alert the king to send his finest medics and physicians to her aid, to ensure no civilian of our kingdom learns about this.”
Lady Tribbie agreed. “We should do our best as to not bring about panic to the kingdom and the palace, if there really is something going on.” She must’ve noticed the way Phainon simply stared. A flash of sympathy passed through her brilliant blue eyes as she turned her gaze towards him. As Aglaea left, Phainon made his way towards Tribbie, trying and failing to stop the thudding of his heart against his ribcage.
“What’s happened, Lady Tribbie?” Phainon asked, although he had heard every word Tribbie said before clearly. This was not an uncommon occurrence, where a noble — royal family or not — was poisoned. Due to hatred, bribery, jealousy? What had you done to deserve this?
Though he could think of a reason himself.
“This-this is… this is all your fault! Why did I trust you with this?”
“Commander [Name] was poisoned, and the medics believe it was sometime during the banquet. They don’t understand what type of poison it is due to the symptoms not making much sense together. They are concluding… that it’s a new poison. And that it’s going to take time to find a cure, if that turns out to be true.”
–
Recent tensions forced Phainon to drown himself into his work, now needing to take your workload as well due to your illness. Another reason you irked him. Though, he supposed, that wasn’t quite your fault. You’d be happy to take up his work for his sake if it ever came to it.
That didn’t stop him from hearing about the news of your investigation from a few close friends. Mydeimos was another royal knight from the Kingdom of Castum Kremnos, here in Amphoreus this year. From him, he learned, supposedly, the cooks were being questioned in the palace, and that the head cook was being put in prison for the time being, along with the servant who had given you your plate. Fortunately, a lead turned up. A servant came in around the time the dishes were being served, where he had no reason to, not being a servant assigned to plate the royals’ dishes. The maid was distracted by his talking, and something could have happened then. Or couldn’t. There’s no telling if a person lies or tells the truth; there never is. And, Phainon frowned, she couldn’t recognize him. A man with dusty blonde hair, whom she had never seen up until that moment. Nothing was fitting together, but even that was better than nothing at all.
–
You fell into a coma a week or so later. Phainon’s worries only seemed to increase. First, he had all his duties as a commander that kept piling up. Just two weeks ago, there was a report that more enemy soldiers were invading villages on the coasts of Okhema; when would he get a rest? His ongoing struggles with you, your ominous warning of someone who wished to kill him — and now, why he couldn’t understand why he felt so concerned for someone who he’s supposed to hate.
“Then you can forget our friendship too.”
Phainon pinned the ornate badge of allegiance onto his tunic, given only to you and him. Something the two of you shared. As he stared into the mirror, his only companion being his undesirable thoughts, he pictured the days around last summer solstice, you right next to him. The morning sunlight created a dappled painting, a mosaic of light. A whole year had passed, but he remembered this scene clearly. You were early on this specific day, ready to wake him up and all dressed in your finest clothes. He turned towards his bed. You sat there like it was your own, chatting his ear off about something you were gonna do that day, you and.. You and…
Her.
But she’s gone. And you’re here. It’s nearly been a year… then why? Why does he hate the sight of your face? The sound of your voice? The curve of your sweet smile. Sometimes, a person does something without having seen the whole picture. Your fallout was something like that.
The urge to check up on you was strong.
Before beginning his duties, he made his way towards the room in which you were kept in, Hyacine nodding her head in greeting and other nurses shuffled around, working tirelessly to tend to you. He supposed it wouldn’t matter if he came to see you, you wouldn’t know. You lay on a bed, pale as a ghost. Sweating buckets, and it seemed as though you could not breathe, even asleep. Breathing fast, breathing heavily. Within an hour, how could all of this have happened? Before, you were well, as far as he knew, and now…
“She’s only deteriorating,” The head nurse’s voice sounded faintly behind him, and he missed a part of what she’d said. It’s fine. “Her breathing is more erratic, her pulse is slowing fast. She has a fever now. She cries in her sleep, my dear. I have not seen these symptoms together in all my years of work.” She dabbed a wet cloth at your forehead, and you shook from chills.
Bad news. And you looked so much worse. Pale. Thin. You lips were dry and colorless.
The head nurse scoffed. “What are the guards doing? If there was truly an outsider who had managed to put poison into her food, poor thing, they should’ve been more careful,” she sighed. “Miss [Name] had her whole future ahead of her. But Phainon…”
She looked up at him sympathetically. “Phainon. Look at me, my dear,” And Phainon could not have stared into her eyes any more intensely even if he tried. His hands were clammy, a feeling of dread washed over him like an icy wave, no — a tsunami, threatening to consume him.
“I don’t want you to have false hope. I’m sorry, but… it would take a miracle now to save her. And miracles don’t happen in real life, Phainon. Not unless somebody came in with an antidote, even right now. I truly am sorry, my dear.”
A moment of silence passed. A flicker of grief passed through his eyes, and then acceptance. He tried to force a smile, force a facade, but any person could have seen that knowing this now, hearing from somebody that you were likely not going to make it, it felt all too real. Too familiar.
“You were supposed to protect her! She- she’s dead! Look at her [Name], goddammit, she’s dead!”
He staggered out of the room, every nurse giving him a sympathetic look as he walked, before he finally slumped into a chair lined against the wall of the hallway outside the medics’. He ran a shaky hand through his hair, before burying his face into that hand, contemplating the head nurse’s words again. Now they were imprinted into his mind. If anyone walked through the hallway at the time — in fact, someone must have — they would have noticed his slumped figure. His shallow breath. The single teardrop that rolled down his cheek and onto the carpet.
–
Nothing new was heard for another few weeks. You were only growing paler, thinner, more sickly. Honestly? He visited every day after that. So that when you died — if you died — he would remember the mapping of your face forever. Not that you didn’t have any portraits; in fact, there were even a few alongside him. The two of you seemed to be paired all the time. All the time. But of course, your beauty was unparalleled, and the real thing was always better.
He then quickly squashed down that thought. You were pretty. You were pretty, yes, but he didn’t think of you that way! He didn’t? Didn’t he? Ugh… a part of him realized he was starting to think about you like you were friends again, missing you, but another, weaker part of him wished to deny it. You did something. He couldn’t forget that.
“Commander Phainon!” Mydei’s voice rang out from behind him, the sense of urgency and his wheezy breathing alerting him that he’d ran to get him; and that something was going on. “...We found the… bastard… that poisoned Commander [Name].”
–
Mydei explained that everyone’s belongings were searched, and eventually a peasant who had only recently started working as a servant had a strange herb and powder in his bag. When he was not able to provide evidence about what it was, the smell being somewhat similar to another poison the medics had studied, he was brought for questioning. There was also a chance that the herbs could be used to make an antidote, according to Lady Hyacine. Phainon’s mouth quirked up at the thought.
But that would take too much time.
The two burst into the room where Lady Castorice, Lady Aglaea, Lady Tribbie and some guards were standing, disgust and curiosity written on each of their faces. In the middle of the room, a man was tied to a post, his face bloody and bruised. Just what was happening? This was the man?
A soldier was gripping his chin tight, before letting go and hitting his face with four or five slaps. “C’mon! Say something. Not so tough now, are you?” The soldier halted at Lady Tribbie’s direction, Phainon stepping into the circle. He felt nothing but contempt for the man.
“Why did you poison the Commander? …What were your motives?” Phainon tried to keep emotion from seeping through his speech, not because he didn’t want to seem like he was one of the most affected by this whole ordeal — but for something else entirely. Even then, one could tell just how much he cared even though he shouldn’t have, because grief and anger really do mess with the human mind, but in this case, it was fear. Fear of losing someone whom he had wasted about a year without. Something he regretted, but finding out the motives of the murderer and delivering fair justice was the most important thing if they could not hope to find an antidote.
After a beat of silence, the man spoke up. “You all misunderstand. You especially.” He gestured to Phainon with the look in his eyes. Dark and dangerous. No one spoke.
“ …It wasn’t her I was trying to poison, I was trying to poison you.” At once, the room fell into a cacophony of shocked gasps and whispers. So, the suffering you had been subjected to was meant for himself? Poor you, caught up in something that wasn’t even your fault… but, indeed, you had a part of this still. “I was paid to do it.” As though that would lessen his punishment.
Another new piece of information, however.
“Who? Who is paying you to kill off one of the most important figures in the palace? Does your safety not mean anything to you? Commander Phainon fights to protect you. The rest of you civilians." Aglaea asked, disappointment evident in her voice.
“Oh please, you nobles — royal family, royal guard or not — don’t see us commoners as humans. Do you? You can’t tell me ya do,” he spat at Lady Aglaea, to which she recoiled. “You spend all your money on your silks and ballgowns and jewels while the rest of us are struggling to afford bread for our families.”
“Enough. I will ask again; who is paying you? For what reason does this person wish to kill a commander?” Aglaea asked once again, but the man could see that she was beginning to lose her composure. This irritating man was clever and sly, and he could see a way he could, perhaps, lessen the punishment and gain something for his own benefit. Commander [Name], he knew, was the name of someone dear to just about everyone in the palace.
“Oh, I don’t know… I don’t quite remember his name… I need something to jog my memory, it seems…”
Mydei snorted at his words, gritting his teeth and readying his fist to deliver a sharp punch if he needed to. “I can think of more than one way to jog your memory, you—”
“Mydeimos.” At Aglaea’s intense glare, Mydei stopped himself. “Do you want gold coins, you weasel? A lesser sentence? Because I promise you, you aren’t getting anything out of this. I will give you one last chance,” Aglaea fixed him with a threatening look, “or this will turn uglier than it has to be.”
“You don’t scare me, Aglaea.”
“That’s Lady Aglaea to you. I am your future ruler; do not forget that fact unless you wish to—”
“Wish to—”
“That’s enough!” Phainon’s voice pierced through the room, halting everyone’s speech, movements, and even thoughts. Aglaea cleared her throat, stepping back and giving Phainon a relieved glance. “...Fine. If you tell us who put you up to this, your sentence will be lessened. Resist further,” Phainon drawled out, unsheathing his sword for effect, “And you will know a fate more horrifying than anything you could possibly imagine.”
Perhaps Phainon meant it, or perhaps he didn’t — only the heavens knew. In your case, he would have acted like this no matter what’d happened, whoever had wronged you, and now, he found he was beginning to accept that the time spent wondering which of the days you spent practically dead from the world would mean your actual death; which day the royal family would mourn, and mourn for seven days, because you were not just a commander.
You were Commander [Name], the most important person alongside himself in the guard, someone’s family, someone’s friend, someone who’d be missed by all who truly knew the boundaries between black and white, evil and good. A symbol of justice throughout these lands. And to him, you were his best friend.
Losing you…
It didn’t matter now. Phainon waited with bated breath while the man seemed to think about it. The price of trying to harm a noble varied based on his or her rank. Commanders… It was an execution if a commander had died. An attempted murder or a non-fatal attack would be cutting off hands. Would he rather have his hands cut off, or something else entirely? Even jail time was more appealing than anything at that moment. And no matter what, he hated the monarchy.
Included the prince that had put him up to the task. The one who had planted the herbs back into his belongings after he had messed up his mission. Indeed, he was supposed to kill Phainon of the faraway land of Aedes Elysiae, not you. Not you, because he… well…
Bingo.
The foolish prince had thought that with the promise of money that this man really did need, but he saw a chance to bring him down and gain, too. He had some of the money promised to him on him, as a bonus. “...Prince Meletius.”
Nobody spoke then, either.
Castorice, who had silently been observing until then, decided to speak. To “But… but why? What does he have to do with Phainon?” Phainon himself could make a guess.
“He’s foolishly in love with Commander [Name]. Around a week ago, Meletius was walking around the palace, as he told me.” It was preparation for the summer solstice, after all. All the nobles visited earlier. “And he heard you, Lady Castorice, and Aglaea talking about something. Care to guess?”
The two in question looked at each other, for a second; and then it clicked. “Phainon’s marriage to [Name].” The two of them muttered at the same time. This was news to just about everyone. Tribbie spoke next.
“...What I mean is, we were planning to wed you two in the coming weeks, of course if you had both agreed to it. But of course, now… [Name] is ill and…” she started. “But, that makes sense. If Meletius was in love with them, he must’ve wanted to poison Phainon so that they couldn’t get married.”
Phainon hummed, his voice not betraying his emotions, but his face was starting to heat up. “Our plates must’ve been swapped. Come to think of it, I noticed one of the things I asked for in my plate not being there, and I’m pretty sure [Name] voiced confusion on something on her plate they didn’t ask for. I, uh, ignored it. And…”
“...They told me, prior to the banquet, that… someone was after my life.” Castorice covered her mouth in surprise at Phainon’s admission. The only thing that they didn’t know now was how you came to know about it, and if you were going to be alright at all.
But Meletius would not get away with this.
–
The princes lashed around as guards seized him, he would be exiled from the kingdom forever, as a prince. Never allowed to even set foot into Okhema. The man was going to serve a couple years in jail, while before, he was going to get hanged. And got some extra money from it, too. At the very least, he could feed his family with the money.
Now it had been around three months since you last opened your eyes… He stood on the balcony, watching as the sun rose. Of course, he was going to go see you, but then the gongs started to ring.
The ones inside the palace. Something had happened.
He checked outside his door, gesturing to a guard in confusion, before people outside started to chant, “Commander [Name] has woken up! Commander [Name] has woken up!” And never, he thought, had he ever run as fast as he did then.
–
When he opened the doors of your room, people were already there, helping you sit up. There was definitely a difference to your complexion, and you were living and breathing — and then you looked up at him.
“Ph-Phainon…” You whispered. And then you felt your lungs tighten when Phainon enveloped you in a warm hug. “H-hey!” He pulled away so he could look at your face, you were very much baffled by his hug — wasn’t he supposed to hate you?
“[Name]...” He leaned closer, and only then could you tell that his hands were shaky, trembling, like the rest of him. His eyes roved over your form as though checking if you were real, as if what he was seeing was complete.
It seemed, you thought, that he wanted you now. And that was enough, after everything that had happened. Thank Professor Anaxagoras for his contribution too. Lady Aglaea didn’t seem nearly as annoyed with him as she usually was after he had prepared the antidote using Hyacine’s help.
–
A couple of weeks passed. You had regained your strength and were currently training with him. This was exactly what happened last year, you remembered. He swung his wooden sword at you, and you could parry his attack, this time with twice the strength. You missed this, and he did too.
He grabbed a drink of water from the well, giving it to you before taking his own and taking a seat in the grass. The sunlight danced on your face, enhancing your beauty even more if it was possible. You looked at him, tired, but wondering.
“Do you forgive me?”
The question had caught Phainon by surprise, but it was just the type of question Phainon expected you to ask, something the two of you tried to work your way around, but your relationship couldn’t move forward if you didn’t ask him. Even as fiances.
You understood, maybe, that he missed you… but…
“It wasn’t your fault. Cyrene’s death, I mean. I was… angry at you for… choosing to protect me over her.. over yourself, as well.” He sighed, his gaze not meeting your own, but you weren't trying to look at him, either. “That wasn’t your fault, no, not at all. You couldn’t save one of us without sacrificing another, and that ended up being Cyrene.” He then looked up at you, a bittersweet smile on his face. “But I shouldn’t have treated you like that. I do forgive you, not that I needed to. Being apart from you… always, constantly thinking what would happen if you died…”
He moved closer to you, before brushing his lips again in a sweet, soft, saccharine kiss. To his pleasure, you reciprocated. Being apart from you, I realized I shouldn’t have wasted that year without you. It wasn't worth it at all. You’re the only person that matters now.
HAIAIAIIAIAI WAVES HAND OMF ITS BEEN SO LONG HOW AR U i cant find ur main acc so here i am #sweating
ZIRA IN MY INBOX AFTER ALL THESE YEARS?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! omgies!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!!? STOP ITS BEEN LIKE A YEAR BY NOW SINCE YOUVE BEEN IN HERE (づ> v <)づ
i'm doing pretty good!!!! life is pretty stationary and it's holidays atm (I EXPECT IT TO BE THE SAME FOR YOU!) so im just trying to get myself to relax and the like. but lowkey pretty chilllll !!!!!
omgies HOw IS UK!??!?!?! we haven't spoken in so long i NEED to know how things have been I EXPECT YOU'RE SO BUSY wITH STUDIES RN??!??!?!! same. same. dude imy you sm
probably because you think I'm someone else or I made you uncomfortable? if I have to desperately prove that I'm not the person you're thinking of, then I will.
-v
you are a liar. i don't like you at all. you are so horrendously bad at lying about your identity that i was able to find you. you broke my heart and tried to come back into my life as another person, and when i asked if you were that person or her associates, you lied.
and i see why, you know? you're a child. you lied about your age to us and you are so immature that you do these kinds of things. lying about your age, making fake identities and faking your online friends. c doesn't exist, does he? nor does p. v is just another identity of yours.
so yes i do know who you are. you are a liar and i am so certain i'm right and you're just trying to defend yourself when there is nothing to defend. it's so clear. there is absolutely nothing you can show me to prove that you're not a liar.
probably because you think I'm someone else or I made you uncomfortable? if I have to desperately prove that I'm not the person you're thinking of, then I will.
-v
you are a liar. i don't like you at all. you are so horrendously bad at lying about your identity that i was able to find you. you broke my heart and tried to come back into my life as another person, and when i asked if you were that person or her associates, you lied.
and i see why, you know? you're a child. you lied about your age to us and you are so immature that you do these kinds of things. lying about your age, making fake identities and faking your online friends. c doesn't exist, does he? nor does p. v is just another identity of yours.
so yes i do know who you are. you are a liar and i am so certain i'm right and you're just trying to defend yourself when there is nothing to defend. it's so clear. there is absolutely nothing you can show me to prove that you're not a liar.
