Fandoms I write for : HSR, HI3, Genshin Impact, Ace attorney ! (Note, if you want me to write for other fandoms, please specify and I will attempt to study the characters you listed off)
hey. came across your most recent mydei fic. i just wanted to let you know that "illegal immigrant!reader" is overall pretty icky given that most immigrants in the usa are being murdered rn and using it as a character tag feels like it's a character trait and not something used by racists to dehumanize immigrants.
i don't know if you're unaware of that, but i'm just letting you know that "illegal immigrant" holds more weight and shouldn't be used as a character description in a fanfic. you can say "forginer!reader" or "fugitive!reader" and then reveal later on that reader isn't from the area.
the term may not be a slur or anything, but it's still vv harmful and vv dehumanizing.
i'm just letting you know so you can fix it before it becomes a bigger issue.
hey so i am completely aware of this issue and all its implications. please do not take it the wrong way, but if you've read the description (under usagi's note), you'd see that this was originally for a writing assignment in my uni where i had to combine a post-human topic and a global issue (which was assigned to us).
i did not write this to reduce immigrants to a simple character tag or character trait. i do recognize the weight of the tag, but as u can see, illegal had quotations before it, implying that it was only a view from those who are racist. this is also a jab at countries, especially in the USA, where they think immigrants are illegal, when they're literally not, they're just people.
as for the dehumanising part, please do note that other than almost being caught and beaten, which were important parts of the theme my professor had us write, (1800s vampires + immigrants, specifically their hardship, which btw was a headache to write bcs i like my writing historically accurate so i was like how tf do i write immigrants in 1800s when laws weren't that well established back then??)
"literature is supposed to make you uncomfortable and invoke awareness," in her words, and that's why she challenged us to write such topics...
i really did try my best to focus on symbolism (her name barely being said in regards to it mirroring how she tried to stay hidden from the racist system that demands her as "illegal") and the reader—the immigrant's sense of self, which can be seen in things she likes (pomegranates, reading, running in the rain), tip of the iceberg traits that can still give her life without ruining the immersion for reader-inserts too much.
having her be an "illegal" immigrant in the description is not because i was trying to dehumanize anyone. "foreigner reader" is too superficial for the real issue i was trying to write about, and reader is not a "fugitive" either as she's done nothing wrong? she's literally just someone with no papers, which according to google is just called an "undocumented immigrant", the "illegal", again, is not to dehumanize, but is used as a jab towards the government that tries to oppress them.
and also this, again, was set in the 1800s, where there was no legal category for "illegal/undocumented immigrants" and were primarily referred to as "paupers", which my reader is not, bcs she works, or "undesirables", i really do not want to call her or anyone that, or simply "immigrants", which did not capture the tone i wanted to set for the piece of literature, bcs an immigrant just means "a person who moves to a new country to live there permanently" (Merriam-Webster, n.d.).
thank you for bringing it up to my attention, anon, but rest assured, i am completely aware of what i have written, and i have no ill intention as i was writing it.
i do apologize, if it has, in any way, offended you, that was not my intention, my intention was to get a 4.0 for my class, but if by this point, you are not satisfied with my answer, please feel free to block me (no hard feelings i swear 😭 !! its totally okay 😭😭) /sincere /pos (how do u use tone tags...)
this is a miniseries, estimated to be three parts in total. if you are interested in being tagged, please comment or send an ask, and make sure i am able to tag you.
series tag is [ @ 𝐘𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐒𝐒 ★ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐖𝐀𝐈𝐓 ] in case any parts do not get linked properly.
still so close, yet so far . . . summary ❞ three chrysos heirs arrive in the xianzhou empire proposing an alliance. amongst them, is lord mydeimos, a man with immortality but not immune to what begins to change in him. word count: 3.8k
tags ───────── mydei x reader & (minor) jing yuan x reader, royal au, attempt at slowburn, not canon compliant. this series will contain angst, violence, major character death ; xianzhou alliance is called the xianzhou empire ; jing yuan is heavily ooc for story purposes only.
You stand before a large painting of a young woman. She is dressed in an extravagant red gown. Her hair had been meticulously styled to represent her high status. The pins in her hair have charms dangling from the ends. It is the symbol of the Xianzhou Empire. Her hands are placed on her lap with her left on top to display a beautiful engagement ring.
She is stunning. The artist had captured her details so perfectly, forever in precise strokes and vibrant paint. Many who walk down this very hallway have to stop and look in awe at this creation. Unable to touch it, they can only move closer to the portrait and examine the flow of the brush.
You, on the other hand, can only stare at the painting with disdain. It is not towards the woman, for she is not the one at fault. The disdain is for the story behind how this painting came to be and how it was hung in this very spot.
The name of the woman in the painting is Xinyue. The ring on her finger was placed there by the creator of the Xianzhou Empire, Emperor Jing Yuan. This overly detailed portrait was a gift from him to her. It’s to display the beauty and grace of the future Empress.
But that story is why you hold disdain for the painting. Because only months before, another portrait was in this very spot for the same reasoning.
Her painting replaced yours.
Here, in the Xianzhou Palace, your existence is well known. You play an important and occasionally overlooked role in the Royal Court. Politics. The peace treaties between the Empire and other kingdoms were made possible through you. Battles were avoided because of your interference. Alliances hadn’t been broken by your influence.
Before Xinyue, you were the future Empress to be. Jing Yuan adored you, he praised you, he loved you. While he was the fighter, you were the tactician. A perfect pair to rule over the Empire.
And so suddenly, the ring was removed from your finger. Another woman began to roam the palace halls with a different ring given to her by Jing Yuan that held the same meaning. Forged to her exact measurements and liking, Lady Xinyue is now the bride to be for the Emperor. He adores her, he praises her, he loves her.
Now your painting is gone. It is stored in a location unknown to you, serving only to collect dust.
He gave you no reasoning behind his actions. Why had he discarded you off to the side that easily? Years of loyalty to each other and it ended abruptly.
“My Lady,” A voice from the end of the hall directed your attention away from the painting. There is a servant who had been tasked with finding you. She witnessed you intently staring at the artwork hanging on the wall. Knowing your story, she felt a sense of pity deep down in her heart for you. “The guests from Amphoreus are waiting. The meeting will begin soon.”
Amphoreus. A vast land which you had never been to. It was hard to explain how different things worked there compared to the Xianzhou Empire. But of course, like other country leaders, they were here for the exact same reasoning.
Your eyes flicked over to the painting again and then gave the servant a curt nod as a sign of thanks, “Very well.”
It wouldn’t be proper of you to keep the guests of Amphoreus waiting. So, you followed behind the servant woman. The image of the painting lingered in the back of your mind. Unfortunately, with how many times you passed by it since it was hung, you knew it well to the most minute detail.
You arrived outside of the Royal Courts meeting room. All important discussions were held here and away from the prying ears of the servants. Two Cloud Knights stood on either side of the double doors.
Today, behind those doors, were three of the twelve Chrysos Heirs from Amphoreus. Lady Aglaea, Lord Phainon, and Lord Mydeimos.
In recent times, Jing Yuan expressed his interest in having Amphoreus become part of the Xianzhou Empire. This would give him total and absolute control over the region. What that meant is that you would get stuck doing all the diplomatic work. You were very good at what you did, but the Emperor seemed to have a hard time comprehending how impossible it was to sway the Chrysos Heirs.
They weren’t bad people. They, however, were extremely intelligent. They knew how to deny whenever something felt the slightest bit wrong to them. After all, it was twelve of them and only one of you.
Regardless, the guards opened the doors for you. The attendees for today’s meeting were already sitting down at the table. Members of the Xianzhou Royal Court had huddled themselves by the head of the table, the chair reserved for the Emperor. Though you weren’t too focused on them.
As soon as you stepped into the room, the sound of two chairs being pushed back made everyone’s heads turn in that direction. Phainon and Mydei were both standing. It was nice to see that the men of Amphoreus held the utmost respect for women. They at least still stood up whenever a lady walked into the room.
At their side was Aglaea, who continued to remain seated with the others but kindly smiled at you.
“My Lady,” She then stood up once you drew closer to them, “It’s good to see you again.”
“Likewise, Lady Aglaea.” You said, shifted your gaze to the other two Chrysos Heirs to greet them. Phainon gently took your hand in his and bowed as a sign of respect. Mydei copied his action, more careful with his clawed armor. “Gentlemen, thank you for being here.”
“It's always an honor to be in your presence.” Phainon said, placing a hand on his chest.
The heavy doors creaked, indicating someone else had arrived. There is a shift in the atmosphere in the room. His Grace, Jing Yuan, entered.
Everyone immediately stood up and turned to bow. His boots clicked against the floor. But there were a second pair of footsteps that followed. He hadn’t arrived alone, and you weren’t expecting him to. He had his betrothed, Xinyue, following behind him. Your brows slowly narrowed despite trying to hide your expression.
A frown settled on Aglaea’s face, but she covered it up by clearing her throat and placing the back of her hand over her lips. Neither Phainon nor Mydei were pleased at this turn of events. When the Emperor suddenly broke off your long term engagement, the news spread across the lands. His actions were considered an abomination in the eyes of Amphoreus, a sign of ultimate disrespect towards you.
“Greetings,” Jing Yuan stopped once he reached the head of the table. He noticed that amongst everyone in the room, you weren’t looking at him. As per usual, you were being cold towards him. “My apologies, I haven’t had time to properly address the three of you since your arrival at the Empire.”
“You don’t need to apologize, Your Grace.” Aglaea said, “You’re a busy man. We understand.”
“Xinyue will be joining us for this meeting.” He motioned over to his fiancée standing right beside him. She held her hands in front of her, behaving like a proper woman. “Is that alright?”
And everyone, in unison responded the same thing, “Of course, Your Grace.” Because no one could be opposed to it. So they had to accommodate and made room for Xinyue. She took the first chair, sitting on the left side of the table. It forced the Royal Court Members to all move one chair down.
You realized you wouldn’t have a place to sit. That’s until you felt a hand gently touching your upper arm to get your attention. The owner’s hand was recognizable by the feel of armor.
“My Lady.” Mydei held onto the back of his chair. He was offering his seat at the table up to you. You glanced at the open chair before walking over to it. You tucked your dress comfortably as you sat down. He then carefully pushed the chair closer to the table. This left you sitting directly across Aglaea and Phainon. A much better position since you would be doing most of the talking with the Chrysos Heirs.
“Thank you,” You said, though not sparing him a second glance. You could feel Jing Yuan’s gaze focused intently on the interaction. And not only that, Mydei remained behind you as if he were your most trusted guard, tasked with protecting you. His lingering presence was… Soothing, in a way. “Let us begin,”
The meeting proceeded. It dragged on for hours. Although on certain occasions, Feixiao and Yao Guang left their input, you had most of the control at the table. It was a back and forth between you and the three Chrysos Heirs. They were not easily persuaded by your statements.
Where Jing Yuan wanted them to see it fit that they join the Empire, they were more towards leaning into an alliance. You weren’t necessarily objecting to that idea, but you knew you’d hear a handful if you didn’t try to negotiate harder with them.
“Amphoreus has prospered under the rule of the Chrysos Heirs.” Aglaea explained, “Our people are happy. They’re content. We’ve avoided many conflicts with other countries. That is what matters most to us.”
The Heirs took their sworn oath to protect their people seriously. You were actually against trying to convince them to give up their rightful thrones. Except, you were a servant who had to fight for the Emperor’s desires. As soon as you were going to speak again, a new person decided to chime in.
“But why have twelve separate rulers, when you could be under the control of one benevolent ruler instead?” Xinyue’s voice rang from the front of the table.
You were baffled, immediately turning over to her. It silenced the others at the table. They looked amongst each other. No one wanted to say it, but they were all thinking the same thing. Xinyue wanted to play your role, and she would fail miserably at this game.
You wished you could say none of this was her fault. Since she knew of your history with Jing Yuan, she was attempting to prove herself. This was her way of saying to you that she was better, and once she became the Empress, you were no longer going to be needed. Her issue was that she had a closed minded attitude, always believing that the Xianzhou Empire could do no wrong.
“Under the control of one benevolent ruler?” The deep voice from behind you said. Mydei held back a scoff at her ignorance. Aglaea had to give him a stern look to remind him who he was speaking against. Though, it was ignored when he continued, “The people of Amphoreus don’t need history to repeat itself. We have only recently been released from Nikador’s grasp.”
Xinyue grew silent. She didn’t know of Amphoreus’ extensive history like you or other members of the Royal Court. In fact, she wasn’t very knowledgeable about the reign of the different lands either. It was unfortunate she struck a nerve in Lord Mydeimos with her comment.
You immediately looked over at Fu Xuan, retainer of the Emperor. When your gaze met hers, she instantly knew what you were trying to say. She was forced to intervene, “Why don’t we put this meeting on hold for today? I think that’s enough discussing this matter. We can continue tomorrow.”
“Yes, I do agree.” Aglaea said, her hands letting go to gently push her chair back.
You exhaled lowly in relief. Fu Xuan had leverage with her position in the Court. Ending the discussion for the time being was better before someone ended up making matters worse.
The meeting room emptied.
Everyone went on their separate paths and attended to their own matters. You had gone with Aglaea, escorting her to the guest wing where she was staying during her time here. You spoke with her, catching up now that you weren’t forced to talk about anything politically related.
Eventually, you decided to say your goodbyes so she could rest.
You wandered through the halls, heading to that same hallway from early this morning in order to return to your chambers. You arrived, only to find out you weren’t alone.
In the distance, Mydei is before that painting and examining it in silence with his arms crossed over his chest. He’s sharp enough to know someone else is in the hallway with him. You had no intentions to stop and talk to him. Your heels echoed through the empty hallway as you walked with your head held high. Just as you passed him, you were forced to stop.
“Lady (Y/N),” He called out to you. His gaze remained fixated on the painting of Xinyue. You closed your eyes for a brief moment. This meant you had to face him, otherwise, it would be improper. He asked the very question you were dreading to hear come from a guest. “Was your portrait not here before?”
How embarrassing.
“Yes, it was.” Your response was short. As expected. He glanced over his shoulder at you. He watched your reaction closely. He motioned to the canvas.
“And… Where is it now?” Mydei asked. His newest question left you puzzled. Your eyes narrowed slightly and your head tilted to the side.
“Where is what?”
“Your portrait.” He elaborated. “Where is your portrait now?”
That made you stop and think about it for a brief moment.
Jing Yuan commissioned the painting as a gift. He wanted everyone to see the beauty of the woman he was going to marry. He was a prideful man, you were his greatest treasure. With everything that happened, you never once wondered where your painting disappeared to.
Why did Mydeimos care? Was he trying to make fun of you? You, who once held the Emperor’s affection and wore his ring on your finger, didn’t even know where the painting dedicated to you had gone.
“I do not know.” You said in a defensive manner. The faintest hint of snark didn’t go unnoticed for the Kremnoan. “Why not ask a servant for its whereabouts?”
He chose to remain silent as you left. Perhaps it was a mistake to ask such a blunt question. He could have worded it differently. It wasn’t his intention to upset you. But you were gone now, and he couldn’t apologize.
His eyes went from the right end of the hallway to the left where you originally came from. Mydei stood there for a moment longer, before making up his mind. He turned the other way with the objective of finding the closest member of the Royal Court.
“You wish for me to go to Amphoreus?”
“Yes.” Jing Yuan nodded his head. He reclined in his chair while you stood across from his desk. He laced his hands together, “That’s exactly what I said. I want you to go to Amphoreus so you can see why they don’t want to join the Empire. Simple as that.”
It had been two months since the three Chrysos Heirs departed from the Empire. The meeting, as you assumed it would be, was unsuccessful. Not a single one of the offers made swayed them. They didn’t bother dwelling on it, and continued proposing an alliance.
It only made the Emperor more insistent. You couldn’t disobey. You lived in the Xianzhou Empire and held a position in the Royal Court. Obeying his direct orders were your every day command. That’s why he chose you to do every diplomatic duty for him, no matter what it was. This is what you had studied and trained for since a young age.
You weren’t fond of the idea of traveling. You truly never liked it and viewed it to be a hassle. With the change in season, the heatwaves would make your experience worse than usual.
“Perhaps they don’t see it fit to join the Empire.” You said. Jing Yuan raised his brow before a smile spread on his face and he let out a short chuckle.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” He said. “It doesn’t matter. I’ve already sent a letter. Once it’s discussed with the Chrysos Heirs and they’ve given permission, you’ll take your leave for Amphoreus immediately. Do you understand?”
If you had to argue with Anaxagoras, you might lose your mind. Instead, you exhaled and nodded your head.
“As you desire, Your Grace.” You bowed.
“Now then. That is settled. Moving on,” Jing Yuan crossed his arms over his chest, “Have you reconsidered my proposal?” Your gaze darkened for the briefest moment. But he was an attentive man, and the shift in your eyes didn’t go unnoticed.
“My answer was no the first time and it will be no each time you ask.” You said with a sharp tone. The corner of his lip twitched downwards. He placed his hands on his desk, pushing himself up from his chair.
“And why is that? You refuse to tell me your reasoning.” He walked around his desk with slow steps. He stood in front of you and reached out, his fingertips grazing your jawline. They came underneath your chin and lifted your head to meet his gaze. “Is it really such a detestable life to become my concubine? All I desire is to keep you at my side.”
This is what you had been reduced to. From his lover and fiancée to a mere puppet he could control. He’d done it so easily and with no remorse, you wondered if he ever loved you at all.
“You used to go about that in a better manner.” You held his gaze. Your words silenced him.
His proposal was like a slap in the face. He replaced you with Xinyan. And you, with an aching heart, had to accept it. Then he turned around and asked that you become a concubine once he married. His only concubine, he said. Your feelings didn't matter to him. Gone was the man you once loved.
He dropped his hand from your chin. He couldn’t find that same love and devotion in your eyes anymore. Did he miss it? The Emperor himself didn’t know.
“You are dismissed.” He flicked his hand.
His temper flared at how quickly you left his study. You had to keep your composure. You refused to show any sign of weakness in front of Jing Yuan, no matter how much you were aching inside.
Xinyue’s painting taunted you as you walked by it. It was beginning to get harder to not place the blame on her. None of this is her fault, you reminded yourself. She wasn’t the one you were engaged to and she wasn’t the one who suddenly broke it off. She believed he loved her, just as you believed it once.
What about you? Didn't you have a right to be angry at this young noble woman who appeared in the palace overnight?
There was no reason to fight over Jing Yuan’s affection. If he took it away so easily, it was never there to begin with.
The Cloud Knights patrolling your wing pushed your chamber doors open when you arrived.
Qingque was inside. Your lady in waiting is adjusting three boxes stacked on each other. She placed a vase of blooming flowers right beside them. She looked in your direction when the doors shut behind. A bright smile formed on her face, “My Lady!” She exclaimed loudly, careful to not bump into the table.
“What is this?” You asked.
“You received a gift all the way from Amphoreus!” She plucked an envelope from the top box. She held it out to you, “They sent flowers from here.”
“Amphoreus?” You repeated.
The wax seal on the back had the symbol of the Romance Titan. Aglaea. You examined the boxes. Qingque practically bounced on the balls of her feet. She seemed more excited about your gifts than you were. Maybe because she knew this was one you’d accept.
Jing Yuan, probably to cover whatever little guilt he might feel if he felt any at all, had been sending gifts to your chambers regularly. A cruel thing to do, you’d simply send them out to noble women, passing them off as your own.
As you carefully ripped the wax seal apart, you gave Qingque permission to open the boxes. You read the letter written in Aglaea’s elegant handwriting.
My dearest Lady (Y/N),
In my years of being a dressmaker, I have been commissioned by many different people. Each of the dresses that I have crafted are woven with love and dedication. The day you read this letter, it is an honor to present to you my own creations. These are creations that I believe are long overdue.
But, I must mention that the dresses you will find in these boxes were made at Lord Mydeimos’ request. When we returned to the land of Amphoreus, he paid a hefty amount for the finest silk and materials. He constantly came to look over my progress and made sure that they would be to your liking.
Though, after I finished and prepared for the gifts to be sent over, I asked if he wanted to write a letter or a note. He became rather shy, and said I could take care of that part as well.
I believe you’ve long ago entranced our Mydeimos with your lovely presence.
Sincerely, Aglaea.
“Look how beautiful they are!” Qingque said, holding one of the boxes in her hands. The other two were left on the table with the lids off. Any piece created by Aglaea was absolutely stunning. The dressmaker had a true talent.
You touched the white silk, soft under your fingertips. They were the toga dresses worn in Amphoreus. Aglaea’s signature style, no matter where she went. In another box was a red dress, and the other held a light blue.
So these were made at the request of Mydei. The brief interaction you had with him months ago in front of Xinyue’s portrait resurfaced. Now you were regretting the sharp tone you used. You folded the letter and tucked it into the envelope again.
“Qingque.” You placed the envelope down on the table by the flowers, “I expect to leave for Amphoreus. When I do, I would like these dresses amongst my wardrobe. In the meantime, please keep them in the boxes.”
She nodded her head, and quickly went ahead with the task to get it out of the way. Not only would you thank Mydei in person, you’d have to apologize for the way you spoke to him.
series material list | part two, coming soon . . .
this is a miniseries, estimated to be three parts in total. if you are interested in being tagged, please comment or send an ask, and make sure i am able to tag you.
notes. everyone say thank you to michael jackson for the name 🗣️‼️ vale had told me to not to call it this 🤨 hater alert !! anyways, glad i’m finally getting this idea out of my head. and it’s been a while since i posted up here but i’m finally getting back into writing 🫡 let’s see how long it takes me to post part two of this, hopefully not long
A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)
Mydei is not outwardly affectionate. He’s reserved by nature and tends to keep to himself, so he’s more restrained with outward expressions of his feelings, especially vulnerable ones like love or fear.
He doesn’t do big displays of affection like bringing you bouquets of flowers or confessing his undying love for you. Still, he does little things throughout the day that show he cares. One could even call them mundane, but the fact that he doesn’t do these things with anyone else is proof of how important you are to Mydei.
The Kremnoan prince shows his affection through acts of service. He struggles to express how himself verbally but finds it much easier to do so through actions. Plus, he is a firm believer that actions speak louder than words, and that you can tell he loves you based on all the things he does for you. For example, Mydei cooks for you whenever he has the time. He wants to take care of you, and cooking is an easy way for him to do so. Feeding you nutritious and delicious meals brings him joy because he knows this way you’re at least eating right, and your body is getting the nutrients it needs to stay strong. Plus, hearing you praise his cooking skills strokes his ego, even if he won’t admit it (you can tell by the blush that spreads across his cheeks that he likes your praise).
He doesn’t say it outright, but Mydei grows concerned whenever you say you skip a meal or eat little. His desire to take care of you spurs him on to whip you up a meal so you don’t go hungry, saying something like “You’ll grow weak if you don’t eat properly. Here, eat this. Get your strength up.” instead of admitting he’s just worried about your health. If you’re sharing a meal, Mydei will let you take the tastier morsels and bigger bites without complaint. In fact, he encourages you to take more food so he can be sure your belly is full.
Other ways Mydei shows his affection are through spending time with you, giving you small gifts (covered in the Gifts section), and keeping a protective hand on your person. Usually, the prince likes to seclude himself on the rooftops of Marmoreal Market to stay away from the hustle and bustle of the streets and have a moment of solitude. His choosing to spend his time with you is a sign that Mydei genuinely likes your company and seeks more of it. You don’t have to do anything together, just sharing the same space with you is enough for Mydei.
Whenever you head out, Mydei ghosts a protective hand on your lower back or side in crowded areas so you don’t get swept away by the sea of people. He also lets you walk on the less crowded side and keeps his body as a barrier between you and the other pedestrians as an extra precaution to keep you safe.
When you’re alone and sharing a tender moment, Mydei is a little more open with his feelings. He expresses his loyalty and devotion to you by swearing to protect you and keep you safe as long as he still draws. He also calls you an affectionate nickname in Kremnoan. During intimate moments like these, Mydei is more physically affectionate. He nuzzles into your neck like a cat and lets out satisfied purrs when you pet his hair. He also wraps you up in his strong arms and buries his face in your neck or chest to breathe in your scent, which eases the tension in his shoulders.
The most telltale sign of Mydei’s affection for you, though, is the gentle manner in which he treats you. He’s never rough with you—only gentle. The way he grips your shoulder or arm, the way he brushes the hair out of your face, or holds your hand are all careful and controlled to not bruise you. Even the way he looks at you can be described as tender. Mydei’s eyes soften around the edges whenever his gaze shifts to you (Phainon teased him about this before).
B = Beauty (What do they find most beautiful about you?)
Mydei finds you physically attractive, though your outward beauty is not what draws him to you. It’s your inner beauty that holds him captive. He highly admires your strength of character and determination to see things through to the end. He also finds your confidence attractive.
Though deep down, what he finds most beautiful about you is the way you look at him. Whenever you look at him with unbridled love and wonder, it steals his breath away. It’s both overwhelming and exhilarating knowing you care so deeply about him, and Mydei swears you’ve never looked prettier than in the moments when you look at him like he’s your entire world. It makes him want to keep you safe and happy until the day he dies.
C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)
Since he’s restrained with physical affection, it took some time for Mydei to warm up to cuddling. He was awkward with it at first, stiffening up whenever you cuddled against him, and grew uncertain with where to put his hands. However, once he got used to it, Mydei became a great cuddle buddy.
Cuddles usually happen when he’s reading or you’re getting ready to sleep. Mydei enjoys reading during his downtime and doesn’t mind if you join him by lying next to him. He holds his book in one hand and wraps the other around your waist or shoulders to tuck you against his side. You can read a book of your own or rest your head on his shoulder or chest and take a nap. Mydei won’t mind.
During bedtime, Mydei sometimes wraps you up in his arms and tucks your head under his chin or spoons you from behind. He likes feeling you against him before he goes to sleep since it reassures him that you’re here and safe in his arms. He doesn’t realize it, but Mydei’s hugs are protective. He wants to surround you with his body as if to shield you from all the bad things in the world.
D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)
If he weren’t the last prince of a fallen nation, Mydei would have liked to settle down. Although a quiet, domestic life is foreign to him, who had grown up fighting for survival and led an army across Amphoreus like a nomad, it offers something he’s been deprived of ever since his father tossed him into the River of Souls as a baby. Stability. Peace. A family. Someone who loves him unconditionally.
Having a place to come home to and be greeted with a smiling you at the door is appealing to Mydei, even though such a happy future seems far-fetched in these turbulent times in Amphoreus. If a stable and happy future does come to pass, though, Mydei will absolutely want to settle down with you.
The prince is great at doing chores. He enjoys cooking and baking and is good at it too, so he wouldn’t mind taking on cooking duty in the house. Mydei is also good at keeping the house tidy, doing laundry, washing dishes, grocery shopping, and fixing things around the home. An all-in-all perfect househusband. He would voluntarily do all of these things without being asked, simply because he wants to ease your burden and take care of you, and also because he likes having something to occupy himself with.
E = Embarrassed (What about you flusters them?)
The easiest way to embarrass Mydei is to tease him. Point out how attentively he takes care of you, how soft he gets around you or children, or how he acts like the perfect househusband. Mydei will simply scoff at you or lightly brush off your comment, seemingly unbothered, but you can tell it gets to him by how the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks redden.
He also grows flustered when you act overly affectionate towards him, especially in public. His face reddens whenever you nuzzle into his neck and murmur how much you love him, pepper his face in kisses, or say something so smooth and romantic that it makes his heart skip a beat.
F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quickly would they want to get married?)
Mydei never really thought about marrying someone before, especially given how busy he was providing for his people and fighting for their survival. Marriage just wasn’t a priority. He knew that as a prince, he would be expected to find a wife and have children to keep their lineage going, even if Kremnos’s rulers had always been determined by bloodshed rather than blood ties.
After Mydei had been in a romantic relationship with you for some time, he knew he wanted to make you his wife. He wants you to be a permanent part of his life so you can continue to share the joys and sorrows by each other’s’ sides. While he’s content with not making things official, Mydei would still like the stability and security that comes with calling you his wife and him your husband.
However, Mydei will hesitate to ask you to marry him for a long time. He wants to take his time weighing the pros and cons of marriage, mulling over whether it would be right to ask you to be his wife, considering his status as a prince. He quietly worries about how his people would take the news, whether you would be accepted as a potential queen, and whether you would be willing to bear the burden of such a title. Mydei doesn’t want to put you into an uncomfortable position with his proposal, so he will hesitate until he comes to a sure answer.
After some consultation and encouragement from his friends and colleagues, Mydei made up his mind to ask you to marry him. The prince was advised to be romantic, gallant, confident, eloquent, and many other things. The pressure was heavy, so he tried practicing corny speeches in front of a mirror, but those sounded fake even to his own ears. In the end, Mydei abandons that approach and simply waits for the right moment instead of trying to force it.
During one of your private conversations about the future, Mydei will pose the question. There is no preamble or flowery words when he asks if you want to be his wife—Mydei is direct and gets straight to the point. His expression is the picture of calm inquisitiveness, but there’s a tension to his features that hints at his nervousness. If you were to place your hand over his chest in that moment, you would feel Mydei’s heart pounding fast and hard against his ribs.
Mydei respects whichever answer you give, even if it’s not the one he hoped to hear. If you are not ready for marriage or feel intimidated by his status as a prince, he will be understanding, albeit a little disappointed. However, should you accept, Mydei will give you his mother’s ring as an engagement ring. It’s a dear artifact to him since it’s the only thing he has left of his mother, but he thinks it’s right to give such a precious item to you, the woman who brought so much joy into his life.
G = Gifts (Do they like giving gifts? Receiving them?)
Giving gifts is one of Mydei’s ways of expressing his affection for you. He gets you practical gifts that will be of use to you, such as shoes, cooking utensils, books he thinks you might like, your favorite sweets, or little trinkets or figures that remind him of you.
If you off-handedly mention that your knives have grown dull or that you need a new pair of shoes, Mydei will remember those comments and buy you a new set of knives or shoes to replace the worn ones. If you say you like a particular dessert, Mydei will go out of his way to buy or even make it. When giving it to you, he makes an excuse that he was just passing by the area or felt like trying a new recipe instead of admitting he just wanted to make you happy.
Mydei spends an egregious amount of time picking out presents for you, carefully contemplating which of two items you would like best. He’s very meticulous about getting you the right gift because Mydei wants you to like it, though he acts nonchalant when giving you the present, as if he didn’t spend a solid half an hour deciding whether you would like the comb with the pink or the green butterfly ornament more.
He might act like giving you these presents doesn’t mean much, but it does. Mydei’s heart swells with joy and satisfaction at seeing you enjoying and making use of the gifts he gives you. Seeing you smile means that his efforts paid off.
When it comes to receiving gifts, Mydei has no expectations. He doesn’t expect you to give him anything, so it’s always a pleasant surprise when you do. Handmade gifts are his favorite because they show that you took the time to make something with him in mind, and just the thought alone makes something in Mydei’s heart ache with surging love. But store-bought trinkets are fine with him because they’re proof that you thought of him when buying them. He safely stores away every item you give him for safekeeping or hangs it on his teleslate as a charm. If you give him food, he eats it without complaint, even if it’s a little burnt or undercooked. Mydei is just happy that you care enough to give him a gift at all.
H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)
Mydei feels awkward with hugs and at first did not initiate them in your relationship until he grew more comfortable with physical affection. Even then, it is still mostly you initiating them, though Mydei seldom turns you down. He feels a little embarrassed being so physically affectionate, but he can’t deny that it feels nice to be held in your arms, so he eventually reciprocates if you hug him for long enough.
He hugs you a lot in bed, though, like when you’re cuddling and he spoons you from behind or you’re sleeping on his chest. His larger figure completely envelops yours when you go to sleep because he feels better knowing you’re safe and protected in his arms.
Mydei’s hugs are protective. Nowhere is safer than in his arms. His battle-hardened body is your shield that will protect you from anything that might try to hurt you. This, he promises to you. Mydei swears to keep you safe until he draws his last breath.
I = I love you (How quickly do they say ‘I love you’?)
Mydei would only say “I love you” after he’s gotten to know you well over of months, if not years. But just like marriage, he would spend a long time debating whether confessing his feelings is truly wise. He wants to be sure before taking such a big step.
Depending on how brave and patient you are, you will either beat Mydei to the punch and say it first, thus prompting him to admit his love for you sooner than he expected, or wait a while before Mydei confesses to you in a direct yet unintrusive manner. All in all, it will take time for Mydei to say those three little words, but once he does, you can be sure that his mind is made up and he means them with his whole heart.
J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?)
Mydei is secure in your relationship and doesn’t worry about you leaving him for someone else, so he has no issues with you spending time with others. He understands that you have other relationships aside from the one with him, and he’s all for giving you the time and space to nurture them.
That said, it still gets under Mydei’s skin whenever another guy flirts with you. He’s not worried that you will be stolen away from him; the prince just hates seeing someone making moves on his partner, doubly so if you look uncomfortable by the attention. You are his, and Mydei protects that which belongs to him.
As much as his fists may itch to sock the scoundrel, Mydei keeps things civil. At first, he stands protectively beside you and levels the perpetrator with a hard glare, looking like a predatory wildcat keeping its eyes on its prey. His body tenses in preparation to act in case the other man tries anything, but otherwise his posture remains unaggressive.
Usually, his harsh gaze and title as the bloodthirsty prince of Castrum Kremnos are enough to send people scampering away. If that’s not enough, then Mydei will shield you with his body and firmly tell the man to stop and get lost. If that fails and the situation gets violent, he will immobilize the perpetrator and escort them to the guards. Violence will be Mydei’s absolute last resort if there is no other way to keep you safe.
If you’re the one who gets jealous, then Mydei will be surprised. He assumes that you also feel secure in your relationship with him because he’s fully committed to you. No force in Amphoreus will make him leave you for someone else. You getting jealous makes him think that he’s not doing enough to make you feel secure, so he verbally reassures you that you’re the only woman he loves and makes a mental note to be more physically affectionate to chase away your doubts. However, if your jealousy is difficult to assuage, Mydei will try to talk it through with you. He’ll find a private moment for you to discuss your insecurities in the hopes of sorting things out and putting your jealousy to rest.
K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)
(Shamelessly copy-pasting my kissing HCs for Mydei from a prior work)
Mydei doesn’t like kissing in public (or being overly affectionate in public in general), so he usually reserves kisses for when you’re alone with him. It can be in an alcove hidden from prying eyes or at home. He’s usually more affectionate at home and will pull you onto his lap to get a kiss or, if you’re significantly shorter than he is, then he lifts you up and presses you against the wall so your faces are level. He likes feeling your body against his when kissing, so expect him to pull you closer until there’s barely any space left between your bodies.
Mydei has a wide variety of types of kisses he gives you. His usual ones are firm yet chaste, just a simple slant of his lips upon yours. One of his hands cradles the back of your head to pull you closer, or gently cups your jaw while running a careful thumb across your cheek. He holds you there for a few long moments, not rushing to break away but not dragging it out too long, either. It’s just enough to let you know how much you mean to him.
He's also capable of passionate kisses that leave you dizzy and breathless. When you push his buttons enough or if he’s in the mood to be intimate with you, Mydei pulls you flush against him and captures your lips in a hungry kiss. His tongue explores the inside of your mouth and caresses your tongue, inciting you to play with his own before taking back control of the kiss. The sound of your muffled moans is like music to his ears, and when you finally part for breath, a string of saliva connects your lips. These types of kisses leave you dazed and weak in the knees, and Mydei looks at you with smug satisfaction and desire darkening his golden eyes at seeing you reduced to a breathless, blushing mess from a single kiss. He traces your bottom lip with a gentle thumb and feels an urge to kiss you again, so he pulls you in for a deeper kiss this time. Don’t worry if your knees give out. Mydei will catch you and hold you securely in his arms.
Despite his gruff exterior, Mydei can be gentle. During moments when he feels deep affection for you (such as in the afterglow of lovemaking), he pulls you close and kisses you softly and sweetly. It’s a gentle and slow press of his lips on your mouth, forehead, or temple accompanied by a soft gaze and light caress of your cheek. These types of kisses are tender and loving, an expression of his raw feelings of love for you that he struggles to say aloud.
Aside from your lips, Mydei also likes to kiss your temple or the top of your head, usually when he’s carrying you in his arms because you’re tired or cuddling with you. He also gravitates towards your chest. He can’t help but kiss over your heart and the soft swells of your breasts because he loves those parts of you. He adores the soft parts of your body in general, but your feminine chest holds a certain appeal to him because he lacked a feminine presence in his childhood.
In terms of where he likes being kissed, Mydei enjoys it when you kiss his back and shoulders. Feeling you hugging him from behind and pressing those soft lips of yours on such a vulnerable part of his body makes his heart squeeze with an emotion he can’t name, but it makes him want to turn around, wrap you in his arms, and never let go.
When you kiss his cheek in thanks or as a sign of affection, Mydei’s heart skips a beat. He’s not used to such affection, and there’s something about this simple gesture that flusters him, but he tries to hide it by brushing it off. Even so, the dusting of red on his cheeks gives him away.
You often find that Mydei’s lips taste of pomegranate juice, and he scoffs to mask his embarrassment when you say you like his kisses because they taste sweet.
L = Little ones (How are they around children? Do they want any?)
Perhaps it’s because he never had much of a childhood himself and wants other children to have what he did not, but Mydei is very good with kids. Despite his gruff exterior, children end up loving him because he takes the time to play with them. Many look up to him as a role model and hope to grow up to be a strong warrior just like him. Mydei just encourages the children to keep practicing, eat their vegetables to grow up strong, and take care of their parents.
Although he likes kids and would make a great father, Mydei is hesitant to have any of his own. While the issues of Amphoreus’s demise and the Kremnoan’s bloody traditions persist, Mydei will feel like it is not the right time to bring a child into this world. The end of the world aside, Mydei knows that as a royal, any child he has will be expected to uphold the crown and continue the needless warfare that has plagued their people for centuries. He doesn’t want his child to be cornered into such a position the way he was, and would rather they choose their own fate. Only once Mydei is certain that a safer and better future awaits the upcoming generations will he want to have children.
That said, he will never pressure you to have any if you do not want them. Mydei always respects your decisions and will try to be understanding. Though he would like to have a child with you, he does not need one to have a happy family. He would even find a silver lining in not having to worry about raising a child in a world that would be so hostile towards them.
M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)
Mydei is an early riser because he’s used to waking up early to get some training in. If you’re also someone who wakes up early to work out, then you and Mydei would spend the early hours of the morning jogging together or doing some light exercises before getting breakfast.
If you’re not into working out or struggle to wake up early, then Mydei will quietly get out of bed to start his training and let you sleep longer. He doesn’t like staying idle for long periods, so he doesn’t stick around to laze and cuddle in bed, but he makes sure you’re properly tucked in before leaving the bedroom.
By the time you rise from bed, Mydei will be in the kitchen cooking a hearty breakfast for both of you. He usually makes his signature pomegranate honeycakes or one of your favorite breakfast foods, though he also likes experimenting with other recipes to keep things fresh. And don’t even think about skipping breakfast, Mydei won’t let you leave the house until you get some food in you. He will not have you starving yourself on his watch. If you worry about gaining weight, he offers to devise a workout plan to help you stay in shape and cook you healthier meals.
Mydei tries to stick around long enough to have breakfast with you just so he can spend a bit more time in your company before heading out to take care of his duties. He gets flustered whenever you see him off with a kiss and will take some time to get used to it, but once he does, he expects you to give him a goodbye kiss every day and will even pull you into a quick peck if you forget to do so.
Mydei feels most productive in the mornings, so if he’s not in a rush to be anywhere, he’ll do some chores around the house. He’ll want to tidy and clean the house, do the dishes and laundry, or go out for a grocery run. While he won’t pressure you to help him, he would appreciate it if you pitched in and worked together to take care of your home.
If there are no chores and he has some free time, then Mydei ventures to the rooftops of Marmoreal Market to admire the scenery. He likes it when you join him and engage in idle chatter or just sit together in silence and enjoy the peaceful atmosphere. Such tranquil moments are rare for Mydei, so he treasures them.
N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)
During Parting Hour, when the workday comes to an end and people head home, Mydei likes to spend some free time relaxing with you before getting ready for bed during Curtain-Fall Hour. He takes you to catch a late performance, lets you cuddle up to him while getting some reading in, or lets you scrub his back while he takes a bath. The last hours of the day are the times when he can spend the most time with you, so Mydei tries to take advantage of them to do shared activities.
When it comes time to sleep, Mydei wraps you up in his arms and tucks your head under his chin or spoons you from behind to keep you close. He likes feeling you beside him when going to sleep because it reassures him that you’re safe. Though if you feel suffocated being hugged like that, then he lets you go. Nonetheless, he still slings an arm around you at the very least until he falls asleep.
If you have trouble sleeping for whatever reason, Mydei will stay up with you. He struggles to fall asleep when he feels you tossing and turning beside him since he’s a light sleeper. He offers to make you a drink or give you a massage to relax you and hopefully make you sleepy. Alternatively, he can stay up and chat with you until you get tired and pass out or, go out for a walk with you to clear your head.
Because he’s a light sleeper, Mydei wakes up whenever you leave the bed to go to the bathroom or have a nightmare that has a strong effect on you. If you struggle to fall back asleep because of your nightmare, Mydei pulls you into his side and tells you that everything is alright because he will protect you. Nothing will hurt you as long as he is here, so don’t worry and go to sleep. He will watch over you. And true to his word, Mydei will stay awake until you fall asleep in his arms. If sleep is impossible for you, then he stays in bed with you for as long as you need until you feel better or gets up and starts his day early while trying to rope you into joining him to help take your mind off the nightmare.
O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)
It will take a considerable amount of time (think years) for Mydei to know you before he feels comfortable enough to open up and share his vulnerabilities with you. He does not trust people easily, so you will first have to prove your trustworthiness through consistent actions before he deems you worthy of his trust. Rest assured that once you win him over, the Kremnoan prince will trust you with his life.
However, even after gaining his trust, Mydei will be slow to reveal things about himself. Not because he doesn’t want to but simply because he doesn’t share things unless he is asked about them. He doesn’t talk much about himself to begin with because he doesn’t see it as important, so if there are things you want to know, you will have to ask Mydei directly. He will, however, share some of his memories with you. He will tell you the things he heard about his mother from Krateros, how he committed patricide against his father, how he survived in the Sea of Souls as a child, and the many tales of his travels across Amphoreus with his detachment. Mydei will also be more open about his thoughts and feelings with you. He'll freely give you his honest opinions, be they positive or negative.
P = PDA (Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?)
Mydei is okay with holding hands and sharing brief hugs or kisses in public, but that is the maximum he is willing to tolerate. Anything more than that makes him uncomfortable. He doesn’t like PDA because he gets embarrassed showing off the intimacy of your relationship in public. As far as he is concerned, your relationship is not anyone’s business, so they don’t need to see the love you two share.
Overall, Mydei keeps his relationship with you discreet. He doesn’t try to hide it, but neither does he boast about having a girlfriend to all his friends and colleagues. If someone asks, he will tell them you’re his lover, but otherwise won’t bother them with this information. However, Mydei might feel compelled to rub it in Phainon’s face that he has a girlfriend if the Deliverer happens to be single.
In terms of actual PDA, Mydei is okay with holding hands while walking through the Marmoreal Market with you so you don’t get separated, or while you’re watching a performance at the Marmoreal Palace. He’s also okay with wrapping an arm around your shoulder in a half-hug or letting you hug him if you’ve been separated for a while. For kisses, Mydei prefers to stick to quick and chaste pecks on the lips, cheek, or forehead. Short enough so it doesn’t become a spectacle, but enough to convey each other’s tender feelings.
Q = Quality Time (How do they like spending time with you?)
Mydei has a variety of activities he likes doing with you. His favorite is training, though he doesn’t pressure you to join him if working out is not your thing. He just likes the idea of doing a shared activity where you both improve your health and bodies. While he usually does intensive training that’s not beginner-friendly, if you wish to join him, Mydei will simplify the training so you can follow along. He gives pointers and helps adjust your form so you’re minimizing injury while doing the workout. If you’re going for a jog, he slows his pace so you can keep up with him. However, if you’re not into working out but still want to participate in his training, then Mydei gets you to help him. Think of the classic “sitting on his back while he does pushups” trope. Mydei would let you do something similar.
The Kremnoan prince will also volunteer to teach you self-defense maneuvers so you can protect yourself when he is not around.
Aside from working out, Mydei also has an interest in the arts. He enjoys visiting theater and music performances with you as a kind of date. He keeps a protective arm around you or holds your hand while you stand in the crowd and watch the show. Afterwards, he is happy to discuss the performance with you and listen to your thoughts on it. If you like it, he will try to find similar shows to take you to next time.
As mentioned before, Mydei also likes reading with you. Being able to spend a quiet moment in your company is always pleasant for the prince. You don’t have to talk about anything and can each mind your own business. Just having you next to him is enough to bring Mydei a sense of peace and tranquility that he so often lacks in his tumultuous daily life.
R = Romance (How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?)
Romance is not Mydei’s strong suit. He struggles to express his affection openly, so things like giving flowers and showering you with sweet compliments and lots of physical affection are not his style. Nonetheless, he has his romantic moments. For instance, Mydei makes promises to keep you safe and happy, which he takes very seriously. He’s the type to not make a promise lightly and to see it through to the end, so when he promises to protect you even at the cost of his own life or move heaven and earth to make you happy, know that he means every word he says.
Cooking might not seem like a romantic gesture, but it is to Mydei. He goes out of his way to make your favorite dishes just to see you happy and learns all your favorite and least favorite foods by heart. He got into the habit of making you breakfast every morning and sometimes brings it to your bedroom so you can enjoy a breakfast in bed, though he usually does that after a night of passionate lovemaking. Speaking of, if you feel sore or too tired to move after sex, Mydei will help you into the bath and will carefully and gently wash you himself.
Another romantic gesture Mydei does is carry you in his arms whenever you’re tired or have sprained an ankle. He holds you bridal-style without complaint and lets you rest your head on his shoulder until you get home, where he can properly take care of you by treating your ankle or tucking you into bed.
S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)
Mydei is quite protective of you. He practically functions like your bodyguard. It is in his nature to fight and keep others safe, but this tendency of his grows stronger when it comes to you. Mydei has lost many loved ones in the past, and the pain of their deaths left scars upon his heart. The thought of losing you terrifies him, so he will do everything in his power to keep you safe.
His first instinct is to use his body as a shield. You’re mortal, so even one deadly strike from an enemy would take you away from him forever, and Mydei can’t stand the thought of losing you. Unlike you, Mydei is practically immortal, so he sees it only right that he should take the heavy hits and deadly blows. His body regenerates at an impressive speed, and even if he dies, he will just come back to life. It’s no big deal, he assures you each time he takes an arrow in the shoulder or intercepts the slash of a blade that was meant for you. It’s fine if he bleeds and even dies as long as it means you’re safe. As he had once promised you, Mydei will protect you until he draws his last breath.
Aside from shielding you, Mydei also keeps an eye out for any potential threats like thieves, criminals, and other unsavory sorts whenever you go out into crowded areas. If he spots someone trying to take advantage of you, Mydei will be beside you in an instant to chase the perpetrator away or hand them over to the authorities. He encourages you to walk to one side of him, where there are fewer people, so he can use his body as a buffer between you and the crowds.
He also defends your honor. If anyone dares to badmouth you behind your back, Mydei calls them out and practically threatens them to shut their mouth.
T = Tend (How do they act when you’re hurt or sick, and vice versa?)
Mydei’s protective instincts flare up whenever you get injured or fall sick, and he turns all his attention to helping you get better. If you sustained a light injury, he helps you clean and patch up the wound while remarking that you should be more careful in the future. Don’t be too upset at him, his grumbling stems from worry about your wellbeing.
If you sustained heavy injuries that require professional medical attention, Mydei won’t find peace until he confirms that you’re okay. He visits you at the medical center as often as he can to check how you’re recovering and will ask the doctors for detailed information on how to take care of you at home when you finally get released. Mydei will be meticulous about changing your bandages or ensuring you take all your medicine so you can make a full recovery. You can call scold him for being too controlling over this, but he will not budge on this matter. Not until you’re fully healed, that is.
If you fall sick, Mydei will take care of you. He hates seeing you feeling weak because it makes him feel helpless, but he still tries his best to nurse you back to health. Mydei acts a bit like a fussy mother whenever you get sick, even if he tries to hide his worry behind his usual stoic exterior (though you can see it in his eyes when he looks at you). He places a cool rag on your forehead to help lower your fever, makes you take your medicine, cooks you soup and porridge so you get some food in you, and helps with household chores so you only have to worry about resting and recovering. He never complains about taking care of you when you’re at your weakest. He just tells you to focus on getting better so you can go training with him again or catch that one theater performance you told him about.
U = Upset (How do they act when you’re upset?)
Mydei isn’t great at comforting people, but he still tries his best to help you through whatever may be troubling you. His response will depend on the severity of your distress. If you’re upset over something small, Mydei will try to lighten the mood by playfully asking what’s got you looking like a piece of wilted lettuce. He’s not the best at giving words of comfort, so he tries to distract you from your sour mood with some teasing and suggestions to go do something productive to help you feel better.
If you’re so upset that you’re on the verge of crying, Mydei won’t speak much but will instead offer comfort through touch. He feels awkward comforting someone who is crying and might at first place a hand on your back or shoulder in a show of silent support, but if you ask him for a hug or bury your face in his shoulder in search of comfort, then he’ll wrap you up in a proper hug. Mydei holds you and lets you cry without interrupting or demanding you tell him what’s wrong, even if he wants to know what happened to make you so upset. He keeps his questions to himself until you calm down and feel a bit better, and only then asks you to tell him what happened. Mydei will offer advice if he thinks it will help you solve your problem or directs you to someone else who can. If the cause is not something that can be easily fixed, then he continues to be supportive of you and keeps a close eye on your mental state. Even if he’s not the best at comforting others, Mydei is loyal and has a strong desire to see you safe and happy, so he will do everything within his power to help you get through the rough patch you’re in.
V = Vulnerable (When was the first time they were vulnerable with you?)
Mydei was vulnerable for the first time when he shared his worries with you. He usually bottles up his doubts and insecurities because he doesn’t trust others enough to be vulnerable around them, and also because he doesn’t have many people to lean on. As the proud crown prince and leader of his people, Mydei does not want to appear weak in front of his fellow Kremnoans. Some look up to him while others place their hopes of restoring Castrum Kremnos to its former glory upon him, and he does not want to let them down. Furthermore, their Kremnoan traditions do not support things like vulnerability, so if Mydei permitted himself to appear weak in front of his people, it could cause unrest among their ranks.
But it is not like that with you. You don’t expect him to be infallible and treat him as an equal, so Mydei takes comfort in your unconditional love and openness with him. The way you treated him like an ordinary human instead of an immortal warrior or crown prince prompted Mydei to open up and share his troubles with you when they weighed too heavily on his mind. You are one of the few who got to see the man beneath the prideful arrogance and learn just how many doubts, life-changing decisions, expectations, and hopes Mydei carries upon his shoulders.
W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)
Yes and no. Mydei is self-sufficient. He grew up without a family and spent his early childhood fighting off monsters in the Sea of Souls. He’s also lost countless soldiers and friends throughout his short life, so he is no stranger to losing loved ones. He learned very early on how to depend on his own strengths to survive and how to be independent. Plus, as the leader of a nation, Mydei cannot afford to be heavily reliant on others. He carves out his own path and sticks to his beliefs even if they go against the norm. That is why, if you are not a part of his life anymore, Mydei does not falter. He will persevere and live his life as he believes is right.
However, his life will not feel the same without you. You showed him the joys of mutual love, of what it’s like to have someone care about him for who he is instead of for his title as a prince or a Chrysos Heir. You gave him new experiences and taught him the beauty of loving someone with your entire being and having that love be reciprocated in full. You were the closest thing he had to a family and were someone he treasured dearly. While Mydei can go on without you, his life will never be the same. Now that he has experienced real love, being unable to have these same joys and tender moments makes his life feel duller. As if you took all the colors with you when you left.
He will miss you and will think about you from time to time. He’ll have a box filled with items that once belonged to you that he looks at from time to time and reminisces about your happy times together. You’ll also become a sore topic for him to discuss for years, even when he’s grown old and grey. While Mydei acts aloof and discourages others from getting close, once he accepts someone into his life and heart, he has a hard time letting go and truly moving on.
X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them)
The Kremnoan language is as rough and rugged as the natives who speak it and offers little in terms of affectionate words of endearment. Yet, Mydei still found a way to soften the language into something loving when using it around you. He knows you don’t understand Kremnoan, but he uses that to his advantage. Things he is too embarrassed to say to you in normal conversation, he can say in Kremnoan instead. For example, when your eyes light up with joy when eating his cooking or when you rest your head on his shoulder, Mydei thinks you look adorable, but he struggles to express that openly. During those moments, it’s a lot easier for him to call you precious or sweet or say that he loves you in Kremnoan than in your shared language.
At the start of your relationship, Mydei will be too embarrassed to reveal what he said when you ask him for a translation. Thankfully, you can always ask Krateros or another Kremnoan to explain it to you, so Mydei’s little secret doesn’t stay secret for long. Eventually, he will be honest and give you the translation when you ask, but at the beginning, he will try to dodge your questions and pretend that he said something to make fun of you rather than express his endearment.
If you turn the tables and say something like “I love you” in broken Kremnoan, Mydei will be pleasantly surprised and touched that you took the effort to speak to him in his language. While he frowns down upon the recklessly bloodthirsty traditions of Castrum Kremnos, he does take pride in his culture and would love it if you expressed an interest in it. He may not be proficient in Kremnoan since he can’t write in it, but he can help teach you how to say a few basic words and phrases if you’re interested. It would be a great way for Mydei to deepen his bond with you.
Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)
Mydei wouldn’t like a partner who isn’t honest with him. If they have secrets they want to keep, that’s fine. He won’t pressure them to spill everything unless it is important to their safety or their relationship. He has things he doesn’t want to reveal, either. But he absolutely hates being lied to and taken advantage of after he put his trust in someone. By nature, Mydei is honest and blunt and will say things as they are because he believes the bitter truth is better than sweet lies. He wants to receive honesty in return, so if his partner lies to him often or about major things, his trust in them will be broken.
Mydei also values loyalty in general, but particularly in a romantic partner. If they cheat on him or take advantage of his kindness, they will lose his love, and he will never again let them into his heart. Once Mydei commits to a relationship, he devotes himself to his lover and remains loyal to them no matter what. If his partner can’t show him the same amount of devotion, then they are not worth his time.
For the relationship in general, Mydei wouldn’t like it if his partner put him on a pedestal or gloated about having him as a partner. It would make him uncomfortable to be treated like a trophy or a person of a higher social status than his partner, even if it is true. Mydei just wants to be treated like an equal by his romantic partner because that’s how he views them.
Z = Zzz (What is a sleeping habit of theirs?)
This is more of a fun fact than a habit, but Mydei has a naturally higher body temperature just like other Kremnoans. It’s fantastic for when you’re cold because Mydei lets you warm your cold fingers and toes against his skin and keeps you warm during chillier temperatures, but awful for when the weather is warm since you overheat in his arms. When you start squirming in his arms to escape the furnace that is his body, Mydei usually wakes up and reluctantly lets you go. However, sometimes he will just kick the covers off and wrap his arms tighter around your waist, letting you know that he's unwilling to let go of you yet.
in their final year of college, a gifted art student and an acclaimed violinist cross paths through a project that was never meant to be personal. but slowly you realize, inspiration and affection can look a lot like each other.
pairing: mydei x f!reader
word count: 10.2k words
tags: modern au, college setting, artist reader, violinist mydei, fluff, angst, strangers to lovers, mentions of other chrysos heirs, made up mydei family lore, nsfw in future parts, i don't know what else tbh...
a/n: i'm so so incredibly excited to share this one with you!!! it's very special for me. even though this fic has been trying to become itself for literal months in my drafts... i really want this to be something beautiful and i'm working on it!! i hope you enjoy reading and find meaning in this work of mine. as always, thank you so much for reading. every comment, repost, like means so much to me!!! and feedback is always much much appreciated!!!
header art by insaneption on deviant art!!
PART ONE | PART TWO
“The theme is vulnerability.”
Aglaea’s silky voice fills your ears.
You think it should be easy, you’ve always been the type to choose art that prioritizes conceptuality than materialism. Ideas, meaning, or experience over objects or materials. This is your way of expressing yourself after all. Every color, every line, every stroke of your brush holds value across your canvas.
So when you hear it, it’s not a big deal at all. There is time until finals, and you have all the trust in your own abilities. Art comes as easily as breathing to you. As if it’s a limb extending from your body, a part of your very being, and a connection to your soul. Never once did your head hurt when it comes to art. It’s your language, you way of existing. And it hasn’t ever failed you.
There wasn’t a beginning of your art, and you know there won’t be an ending either. Art has always been, for you; and you will always be, for art.
The bright fluorescent lights burn into your eyes as your thoughts start to wander, and you’re already sketching out your work progress in your head.
You’ll start with a couple of different sketches, pick one of them to work on, choose your material, pick your colors, maybe change a thing or two as you go, and when it’s finished in no less than a month—well, it’s you, it shouldn’t be more than that—you’ll submit it to Aglaea with handsome victory and sweet pride.
And she won’t be surprised. In fact, you think no one would. You’ve made quite a name for yourself over the past four years in this school. Always ending the semester with top grades, never out of time, never out of line. Getting different sponsorships from various studios every other month, and some of your works have even sold out on some small museums.
That’s why you’re certain there won’t be any problems with this one either.
When Aglaea finally dismisses class, you pack your stuff neatly and make your way to the cafeteria. Castorice is already sitting by the window, chewing on some noodles that look way too soaked for their own good.
“That instant ramen looks gummier than the strawberry mochi you buy from across the road.”
She looks up at you with a disapproving look, yet her lips tug into a smile, “I was experimenting, okay? I thought you were all for trying out new things.”
“I am, only when those new things aren’t looking like they could come alive any second though.” you gently threw your bag to the seat next to Castorice, where her pointe shoes are hanging off of her powder-pink duffle bag.
“Aglaea is out for blood again.” you mumble as you take a seat across from her, “She has a whole theme for the finals. If I didn’t know better, I’d say she enjoys seeing senior college students suffer.”
Your lavender haired friend snickers from behind her chopsticks, “You say it like that’s not the case.”
You huff a laugh. “Either way, it’s not that much of a problem,” and gesture to yourself with confidence, “I’ll get it done in no time.”
Contrary to your prior statement—and the belief you’ve carefully cultivated with your past achievements—you do not, in fact, get it done in no time.
It’s funny, maybe—or more overwhelming when you think about it a second time.
But whatever it is, one thing is for sure: It’s not in your favor.
You’ve tried everything; roaming museums, studying pieces from your favorite artists, revisiting old works for self inspiration, morning walks, late-night walks… You name it.
You even took out your sketchbook in the middle of one of Castorice’s performances, but alas, nothing came out of it—which surprised you greatly because even with your limited knowledge on ballet, Cas never failed to mesmerize you.
You sometimes wonder how she’d have done as an art major—and feel a little relieved she didn’t, fearing she might have surpassed you by far.
A week passes in futile endeavors. And it’s not like you’re running out of time, but it still frustrated you. Any kind of problem along the way could be solved with enough push and some thought put into it. But there wasn’t any problem to solve, because there wasn’t a work in your hands to begin with. Which was a problem in itself.
Just when you were starting to think you might’ve lost all your creative spark, your dear friend, Phainon, came to your rescue.
It’s early in the morning when you’re pacing towards class, carrying a big canvas in your hands and struggling to keep your bag from falling off your shoulder.
Then from a distance, you see the white haired guy waving at you frantically, and in the blink of an eye, he’s next to you.
“Oh, great timing.” Phainon smiles in greeting, “I was about to call you.”
You drop your bag to the floor, it didn’t want to be carried anyways. “Call me? What for?”
“I’m invited to the concert on the weekend as a press photographer. I get to bring a second with me, wanna come?”
You tilt your head slightly,“Concert?”
“You haven’t heard? It’s all over the campus bulletin boards.” Phainon’s eyes widen in disbelief, “It’s this huge performance where various musicians from across the city take stage together.” he spreads his hands to emphasize, “We have quite a few joining from our school as well.”
At first, you want to argue. Say it’s going to be a headache and you don’t have the time. Which isn’t exactly wrong. You’re all for music and art and performances, that’s true. But with your confidence slowly slipping away from your hands, you’re not so sure you can afford to attend anything grand right now.
“I’d love to come, Phai,” you start, already shaking your head in rejection, “But I’m working on Aglaea’s final.”
“Wow.” he raises his eyebrows, “Using art as an excuse? Just how badly do you want to stay at home?”
You laugh at his joke, internally wishing it was indeed just an excuse, “Unfortunately, it’s true this time. I’m kind of struggling with this one.”
He raises his eyebrows even higher at that. Almost to say, ‘You? Struggling?’
“Damn, must be a real kicker then.”
“It didn’t seem that bad at first,” you sigh, “But now I can’t even find the proper inspiration to start. It’s like—It just doesn’t click.” You shake your head in frustration.
Your dear friend must’ve felt sorry at your deflated state, so he comes up with an offer.
“Tell you what,” he tips his chin, “Come to this performance with me, and maybe it’ll help with your process.”
You squint your eyes at him in confusion, he takes it upon himself to continue.
“You’re struggling to find inspiration, right? What if what you need is... Some sort of muse. Something to get you going.” a confident smile forms on his lips, “A stage where many musicians are showing off might be a great place to look for that.”
And that’s how you end up in a plain white dress, with hair tied up neatly in a bun, and heels that look way too pretty for how badly they hurt, at 8 p.m. on a Saturday night.
The place is grand, both on the outside and the inside. The building rose at the end of the street like an art piece itself, tall columns guarding its entrance, wide marble steps leading to heavy doors polished by decades. Warm golden light spilled from its arched windows, and the faint murmur of tuning instruments leaked into the evening air.
It took a good twenty minutes just to get in and find your seat. There were people with cameras who looked like they were doing some important work, and others in rich suits and elegant dresses who looked even more important than them.
And then there was you.
The inside was just as captivating as the outside. Bright, creamy walls and columns that extended from the floor to the high ceiling. You felt terribly small compared to how major everything seemed to be. There was a massive chandelier at the top that granted the lobby enough light and the marble floors glowed with it’s reflection.
Your seat was towards the back and to the end of the row. It wasn’t a perfect view but it was enough to catch a glimpse of the stage. You guess that’s the best a plus ticket your photographer friend gave you can do.
Speaking of Phainon, he wasn’t there with you. Even though you entered together, you knew he would be at the higher floors taking photos. It probably would be more entertaining with company next to you, but you’ll have to settle for enjoying the concert by yourself. You were here for the music anyways.
The concert started after a short while. The music was pleasant and the view was actually better than you thought it would be. Various musicians came to stage one by one and played their hearts out. It was nice, it was refreshing. You even managed to get a couple sketches in.
A woman’s flute solo, another one’s piano… It was all so beautiful.
Still, it wasn’t enough.
You didn’t have high expectations in the first place. Phainon offered you an idea but he didn’t promise anything. And you knew that when you agreed to it. The theme was something you haven’t tried before and even if you didn’t get to find what you were looking for, the music is nice. So you guess you can just enjoy it while it lasts.
But then, a single note plays out from a violin in the silence.
Your pencil stops.
Your eyes slowly move back to the stage, and hesitate, like they’re scared to see what’s up there.
Then you see him. A tall, blond man with his hair neatly tied low at the back, wearing a simple black suit with a crimson tie that matches the ends of his hair.
You don’t get to observe him much, because seconds later the piano joins him, catching your attention. Then the cellos start humming a quiet, low tune. A chill runs through you, and the hairs on your arms stand on end.
He plays with ease, as if music is something that just happens for him. And he play with heart, with soul. Nothing like what you’ve seen before. Not tonight, not ever.
It’s enchanting, it’s foreign—and you feel yourself drawn to it.
The music flows in the air. It runs through the red velvet seats, dances around the people, and finds its way to your heart. You find yourself unable to move, hands stuck in their place and ice cold, a tingle at the back of your neck, a soft burn in your eyes…
Just what is this?
Then, as if hearing you, he picks up the pace, the violinist. He speaks clearly, it’s impossible to miss it.
Hear me, he’s whispering one second, then shouting the next, witness me. You watch carefully. To see, to understand. What are you doing? How are you doing it?
Long, slim fingers move up and down on the neck of his instrument—delicate, yet present. He seems… scared? But also just as bold, just as vigorous.
He’s either casting spells with his bow, cursing you in some way, or you have gone mad, completely lost it.
His gaze stays low, he doesn’t look up, doesn’t let anything else catch his attention. It’s obvious. On that stage, it’s just him, his violin, and music.
When the whole orchestra joins him, you feel a skip in your heart. They harmonize and dance together. As if they’re all in agreement, all know what’s happening. Like they’re conversing, like they’re playing out a script written carefully.
The trumpets murmur in the back like a choir, the flute sings peacefully, the piano’s notes fall like feathers.
And at the center of it all, him.
His violin cries.
You don’t know how he does it, or what that even means. But you’re certain. That violin is crying, weeping as if it’s at the end of it’s days. Coming alive at the very hands of the man in front of you.
Just like what you were searching for—vulnerable.
After what feels like an eternity, the music gently dies away. The orchestra quiets down, and his motions come to a stop with a flick of his wrist. He takes a step towards the audience, brings his hand to his chest and bows down softly.
People stand up in their seats, loud clapping fills the building and bright smiles paint your vision. It lasts for a long while, a lot longer than average. And you close your eyes, a single tear slides down and drops to your hands, now clapping with the rest of the room. That’s when you know—
You’ve found it.
You don’t even think about it. The moment the performance ends, you spring up from your seat and hurry out of the room, your steps rushed, nearly tripping over your heels as you go. You make your way toward the back doors of the grand building.
You have to find him, learn his name, approach him, introduce yourself, and somehow persuade him into this. The urge feels almost instinctive, as if you’re being pulled after him.
But when you finally reach the place, he isn’t there.
Your eyes search every corner, trying to catch a glimpse of that tall figure, his golden hair, or his overwhelming presence. But you’re only met with a couple press members and some other musicians that went up to stage earlier in the night.
You feel your eyes burn again. This can’t be it right? Surely you find him somehow.
Your only hope, only lead. Something to keep you in, someone to make your art come true, and—a hand on your shoulder?
“What are you doing here?”
Oh, it’s him.
“Phainon?” your eyes widen, you didn’t even realize he was standing there.
“Aren’t you supposed to be at the main halls?” he asks confused, “Did I take too long? Sorry, I was almost done.”
“No, no. It’s not that.” you shake your head, “I just—I needed to look for someone.”
“Look for someone?” his lifts his head up, his eyes wander for a second before coming back to meet yours, “Who?”
“The blond guy with red hair? The violinist.” you search his eyes, “It’s him. I need him.”
“Okay,” he drags out the word dramatically and pulls his hands back with a smirk, “Mydei is cool and all but—wow, didn’t know you were into that.”
“Not like that!” you snap, then pause, “Wait, Mydei? That’s his name?”
“Yep. Mydeimos. Mydei, for short.” he tilts his head, “He’s one of the performers that join from our school. Quite the deal, isn’t he?”
He goes to the same school as you?
“From us?” your eyes widen, “You know him? Can you introduce me to him?”
Phainon grins knowingly, “Found what you were looking for?”
“Yes.” you nod your head firmly, certain and final, “Exactly what I’m looking for.”
It turns out, Phainon does more than just knowing him.
He tells you the story of their meeting on your way back. They met each other in high school, same year, same class, and didn’t get along at first—like, at all. He tells you about how they would fight and bicker all the time, and race everything like even breathing is competition. And how they decided to apply to the same school, just out of spite for each other, and somehow both got in.
“And now?” you ask him while fiddling with your seatbelt on his passenger seat, “How are the two of you now?”
“Me and Mydei?” he glances at you momentarily, then pulls his eyes back to the road, “Well… We definitely aren’t like that anymore.”
“Are you close though?”
“Yeah… I guess you could say that.”
You bit down on your lips to stop the smile growing on your face. This is great. Phainon is a close friend of yours, and if Mydei is a close friend of his—then it shouldn’t be too hard, right?
Wrong.
This guys is impossible to get a moment with.
Your friend does everything in his power to help you. You get Mydei’s contact information, even though that feels a bit wrong. And Phainon let’s you know when he’s most available in his schedule—which feels even more wrong—so you have a chance to catch him around the campus.
But the only thing he texts back when you reach out is:
I’m busy right now. Will text back when I’m available.
Great. An automated message. And what’s with the cold tone?
You don’t want to keep pestering your friend with this matter. And you definitely don’t want to seem like a stalker by calling him or texting even more, that would completely blow your chance with him—if you have one, that is.
So while days pass, waiting for something, anything from Mydei, you decide you’re not just going to sit still and pray.
After doing your fair share of research, you find out, he really is quite the big deal, as Phainon said. This guy has not only already given multiple solo performances being only a twenty-two year old college student, he has also made headline after headline. Multiple interviews, many people after him, and a certain future.
No wonder he feels so out of reach.
He started playing when he was very young, but wasn’t really heard of until college. He loves music, clearly, and usually doesn’t say much about himself on interviews, only talking about performances or the more professional stuff like his coaches or sponsors and whatnot.
It feels desperate and, to be fair, a bit pathetic. Checking your phone every other hour to see if he’s reached out, paying extra attention to your surroundings while walking, knowing he’s much more closer to you then you thought.
You weren’t allowed to record during the concerto either, so all you’re left with is some photos that got published a night after and the echo of his violin in your head. Which isn’t enough to give you what you need.
Despite your attempts, you can’t seem to get to Mydei.
Then one morning, when you’re making your way to school—kicking tiny rocks along the road and huffing as you go—you catch a glimpse of something gold.
Spring is here, there is a faint breeze that kisses your cheeks gently and the air smells sweet. The sun is shining bright on your face, the trees are decorated with different shades of pink and green—and you feel the tiniest bit of hope blossom somewhere in you.
Could it be?
It’s only for a short second, and if you hadn’t raised you head just at the right moment, you would’ve missed it.
He turns a corner, and the air he leaves behind is enough to let you know.
You run after the man, the same way you did a couple nights ago—out of breath and desperate. He’s not going the same direction as you, but that doesn’t matter. This might be your only chance, and you will gladly chase it even if it means being late to your morning lecture by a few measly minutes.
When you turn the same corner as him, your eyes meet with his broad back. He’s wearing a simple sweatshirt and some sweatpants, his hair is down and untamed. He looks relaxed, completely the opposite of how he was while performing in front of a thousand people.
He’s walking a slow pace, unhurried, which works in your favor. You think about how to approach him; a tap on the shoulder, or maybe you should shout his name instead? Anything to get his attention. Fastening your steps, you reach your hand out. But then—
“Ow.”
Mydei stops abruptly, and turns around to meet you.
“Sorry,” he says simply, “I didn’t realize you were that close.”
He probably heard your steps, you think to yourself, then look up at him while rubbing your nose, making sure there aren’t any broken bones. What is this guy, a brick wall?
“It’s… fine. I shouldn’t have gotten that close in the first place.”
He nods faintly at that, and there is an awkward silence that follows after.
You avert you eyes and fidget with your fingers, while he looks at you with a straight face, not saying anything back. Now that he’s in front of you, you realize you don’t really know how to talk to him.
“So,” he starts, “Did you want something?”
Up close, you get to see his features much clearly. Something the back row of a big orchestra hall didn’t allow you to do.
And you realize, he’s handsome—or beautiful even. The kind of face that is loved and adored. Someone carrying the weight of being cherished. You can’t help but wonder who is lucky enough to love this man. Or… maybe on a second thought, he might be the lucky one.
His hair catches your attention next—bright, shining, the ends tipped in a burning red, blinding like a summer sunset. It looks smooth and soft, free in its own way. A lot less styled compared to what he had going on on stage, with the exception of a small braid peeking under his ear.
Then you look at his amber eyes—golden like his hair, but a lot more fiery—that are staring back at you now, and say—
“Be my muse.”
“I’m sorry?”
Mydei’s face takes a shape that you struggle to find the words to describe. His brows furrow in confusion first, then they lift back up, his eyes widening with the motion.
Want to know how to creep out a man? The address is right here.
“Okay, that wasn’t what I meant to say,” you wince, “Or–maybe it was. But not like that obviously!”
Mydei crosses his arms across his chest, gives a faint lick to his lips and furrows his eyebrows, letting you know you have his attention, as if urging you to go on. And so you do.
“Look, I know this’ll sound weird,” you smile weakly at him, “But I promise I’m not, like, a stalker or anything. I just tried reaching out to you and you wouldn’t answer so—”
You take a deep breath—quit stalling, just get to the point—you close your eyes firmly, let out that breath, then open them, and continue.
“I was at the audience,” you look at his eyes directly, “Around a week ago, at the big concert with various musicians. You took stage towards the end.”
He nods again, “That’s great to hear. Did you enjoy it?”
You let out another shaky breath. If only it was just that.
“Very much so,” you smile as the sound of the night rushes back to you, “I enjoyed it. In fact I loved it. So, I’m here to make an offer.”
Mydei raises a brow,
“Even though I greatly enjoyed it, my sole reason for being there that night was to find some sort of inspiration for my final.” You tilt your head towards where the school building rests, “I’m an art major, we go to the same school.”
He turns his head at where you’re pointing, then looks back at you, “I see.”
But it’s clear he’s not fully understanding what any of this has to do with anything.
“And this final I’m talking about,” you sigh, “Is really taking it out on me.”
“I’ve sketched, painted, scrapped, restarted—about a hundred times. Nothing works.” You pause, rubbing the back of your neck. “But when you were on stage that night… It was the first time in days I actually felt something click.”
His brows pull together again, though not as sharply as before, “Click?”
“Inspiration,” you clarify quickly. “The way you played, the way the orchestra complimented you—everything about it. I couldn’t stop thinking about it afterwards.”
You hesitate for a second before finishing.
“So I thought… maybe if I actually painted you—”
Mydei blinks.
“—as my muse,” you rush, “Not in a weird way! Just artistically. Strictly academically.” A sheepish laugh leaves you at the end of your sentence, “I’m the best at what I do. I cannot afford to get a grade below the expectation.”
“The best, you say?”
“That’s my reputation, yes.”
He stays silent, but you catch the way his eyes widen the slightest amount. He looks like he’s giving it a good thought, or maybe he’s just calculating how much of an idiot you are. You can only hope that’s not the case.
Then he lets out a small breath that almost sounds like a laugh.
“You know,” he says, “most people just ask for an autograph, or an interview, not to paint me as their muse.”
Your shoulders slump slightly, and your gaze lowers in defeat, trying to find comfort in the patterns on the pavement. You’re not stupid, he’s rejecting you without being rude about it—
“I’ll do it.”
You blink. Then snap your head up, searching his face for any insincerity.
“Really?” you ask loudly, “You agree? That easily?”
Mydei seems to be amused by your outburst, a peal of laughter leaves his lips. It’s a clear sound, coming from the chest.
“Really.” he nods, “But I have one condition.”
Condition? Well, it doesn’t matter. As long as he agrees, you think you can do with anything he says.
“Sure,” you beam at him, “What is your condition?”
“I want you to paint me with my violin.”
“Yeah, he agreed!” You kick the air with your legs, overjoyed with pride, “Can you believe? I didn’t even have to do anything.”
Castorice, on the other side of the line, hums in delight.
“That’s good to hear,” her soft tone graces your ears, “So, you have anything in mind?”
You roll on your back in your bed, playing with a piece of hair in between your fingers.
“We didn’t get to talk about the details much, I was running late for class.” you sigh, “But he said he wants me to paint him with his violin.”
Which is already what you were planning to do, so no arguments on that.
After his request, you simply gave a nod of your head and smiled at him sweetly. Then agreed on meeting up for a cup of coffee to talk about the painting and the process—which would be in about an hour from now.
He also saved your number on his phone so that you wouldn’t be having one sided conversations with his automated messages. You still remember the squint on his face and the small apology he muttered as he listened to your complaints.
“I gotta go now,” you informed your best friend, slightly pulling the phone from your ear to see the screen, “I don’t have much time left.”
She then gave a quick warning about updating her, you two exchanged some giggles over that, and ended the call without much ceremony.
You toss your phone beside the pillow and stare at the ceiling for a moment, letting the excitement settle somewhere inside your chest.
Just a painting. Nothing more. It’ll be alright.
Not wanting to waste more time than you already did, you get up quickly.
You get out of your pajamas, wear something decent, make sure you look presentable, grab your bag, and shove your sketchbook, pencils, and a small charcoal set inside. Just in case the conversation turns into an impromptu sketch session.
It probably won’t. But still.
Your phone buzzes just as you’re slipping on your shoes.
Mydei: I’m already at the cafe. Take your time.
Already? That diverts your eyes to the top of the screen. Twenty-four minutes. Is he always this punctual?
A second message follows.
Mydei: Well, don’t take too much time.
You can practically imagine the awkward little smile he must’ve had while typing it. A grin spreads across your face before you can acknowledge it.
You type back quickly.
Me: Omw!!
The walk to the cafe feels shorter than usual, probably because your brain refuses to sit still. You don’t know why it’s doing it, but it is. This isn’t some important commission or for some big contest either. It’s just your stupid final that Aglaea decided to turn into a struggle. And you’ll manage even if things don’t go that well with Mydei.
Still, with each step you take, the sound of your heartbeat rings louder in your ears.
When the cafe comes into your view, he is the first thing you spot from a distance. Sitting near the window, violin case leaning carefully against the chair beside him, fingers wrapped around a cup of coffee he doesn’t seem to be drinking.
Mydei looks up the moment the door chimes. You walk over to the table, wearing a polite smile on your lips.
“Sorry if I kept you waiting.”
He shakes his head, “I arrived early,” then gestures to the chair in front of him.
You eyes settle on his instrument while you get comfortable on your seat, “You brought your violin with you.”
“Yeah,” Mydei hums. It’s a sweet sound, you take note, “I come from practice.”
“I see,” you mutter under your breath, then find his eyes, “You seem to have a really packed schedule.”
“I guess you could say that,”
Mydei looks deep in thought for a second, then a small smile appears on his lips, it’s hard to catch and leaves as quickly as it comes, but it was there.
“But I like what I do,” he nods faintly, “So I don’t mind it.”
You want to ask, where does it come from? This love. Because it’s impossible to miss it, you’d need to be quite dense to miss it. Even when he steals quick glances at its way, you can see it. The way his eyes soften slightly, like meeting an old friend. There is history, unsaid words, and some sort of longing.
Not wanting to seem too curious for your own good, you settle for staying silent this time.
To your surprise, the conversation flows smoothly after that. He asks a couple questions about the progress, you ask back about what he is comfortable with or not, and settle on the time and days for your session.
After that discussion comes to an end, you pull your sketchbook out of your bag, flipping it open to a page of loose drawings. They’re messy, overlapping, quick gestures trying to catch an idea before it slips away. The date on the bottom takes you back to when all of this started, and you try to surpass the smile fighting for its place on your lips.
“I was thinking something more natural,” you say, turning the book slightly so he can see. “Not too staged. Like you’re just… playing.”
He gives a quick hum in acknowledgment.
“What are you going for exactly?” he looks into your eyes while leaning forward to catch a better glimpse of the sketches, “Do you have some sort of theme for this?”
Theme. Right. The theme.
You were so focused on actually getting the chance to speak to Mydei that the theme had slipped clean out of your mind until now.
Vulnerability.
For a second you picture saying it out loud—I want to paint you vulnerable. The thought alone makes your stomach twist. It feels intrusive somehow, like those opportunistic paparazzi that swarm at the mention of scandal.
Your eyes flick briefly to the violin case beside him.
He carries himself with a quiet sort of control. Straight posture, calm voice, movements measured and careful. Nothing about him suggests he would appreciate being reduced to something fragile on a canvas.
You felt guilt brimming in you. His love for his music. You don’t know what it means, you don’t know where it comes from.
Would he think you were mocking him?
Your eyes meet with Mydei’s for a brief second and you realize you've been silent for a beat too long.
“Strength,” you clear your throat softly, “I needed something powerful.”
“Powerful?”
“Yes,” you lie with ease, “Your music is exactly what I’m looking for Mydei. Powerful.”
You were lying through your teeth. Powerful? Maybe. But it definitely wouldn’t be the first thought that comes to your mind when you hear him. And it wasn’t how you intended to portray him either. You were going for frail, tender—vulnerable.
Mydei’s eyes linger on the pages. For a moment he studies the loose lines, the unfinished shapes of hands and a violin resting against a shoulder.
Then he nods once.
“I see.”
A wave of relief crashes into you, but it doesn’t completely loosen the tight knot in your chest.
After all, the lie sits heavy in the air, and you have a month of work waiting the two of you.
The studio smells of dried paint and concrete.
The weather is getting warmer and spring is slowly turning into summer, it’s not as cold as it used to be. Most of the students leave school early around this time of the year so it’s not as crowded either. Rooms and tools are left untouched for hours if not days and hallways are quieter than usual. You can’t say you hate it.
The wooden door makes a loud squeak as you push it open. Mydei steps inside after you, violin case on one of his hands and backpack on the other. He takes a moment to examine the room, looking like a lost child.
You can’t help but huff a laugh at the sight, “You can sit wherever you’re comfortable,”
He nods without looking, eyes still wandering around the room, and takes a seat a few steps away from you.
While Mydei gets settled, you busy yourself with setting up your supplies. You cross to the cabinets at the end of the room, pull out a large sheet of paper, and drag an easel back with you, its legs scraping softly against the floor.
You set it up where it won’t block your view of Mydei, then secure the paper in place before taking a seat.
Next come your tools. You pull a handful of brushes from your bag and drop them into a glass, then sharpen a few graphite pencils, lining them up carefully beside it. Tubes of oil paint, a box of crayons—anything you can find, really, even if they don’t quite belong together.
The first session is only supposed to be some sketches. Therefore you know you won’t need all of this. But the room is awkward, you’re nervous, and need to pass the time as much as possible while Mydei is doing his thing.
Then you hear the quiet click of clasps, the soft slide of wood against fabric.
You peel your eyes off of the sketchbook draped open on your lap and glance at Mydei’s way.
He handles the violin gently, but not delicately. There’s no hesitation in his movements, no second-guessing. Just familiarity, something practiced enough to become instinct.
Clearing your throat, you straighten your pose, “You can start whenever,”
Then with a short nod again, Mydei starts playing.
He draws out a note at first, almost like testing the sound, then another, and another. They mesh together and fill the empty room with sound. You’re supposed to be drawing, examining, working right now, but you feel yourself unable to even lift a hand.
This is only your second time hearing him play, and it’s no less mesmerizing than the first one. A part of you wonders if you’ll be able to handle a whole month of this.
“I’ll be moving quite a lot while playing,” Mydei’s voice pulls you from your thoughts, “Will you be able to draw?” He murmurs without peering his eyes off of his bow.
It’s not condescending, he’s genuinely curious.
“I’ll be fine,” your pencil finally meets the paper, “I want to capture the moment anyway.”
He just gives a quiet hum after that, and silence settles between you again, only occupied with the pleasant sound of violin.
Moments pass like this. Mydei playing like it’s instinct, and you trying your best to do his beauty justice.
You sketch the curve of his posture first. The line of his shoulders, the way his head tilts, his fingers flexing on the neck of the instrument, his other hand relaxed, wrist slightly curved in.
In between shared glances and concentration, your curiosity gets the better of you, “Why did you agree to this?” you meet his eyes, “Not that I’m complaining, of course, but I didn’t expect you to say yes so easily either.”
Mydei seems to give it thought for a moment, then he answers back with a shrug,
“It was the look in your eyes, I guess,” he says, “I’ve never heard someone talk about my music like that.”
You feel your cheeks burn as heat rushes to your face. Was it that obvious?
“…What kind of look?” you ask before you can stop yourself.
Mydei’s bow doesn’t pause, but the note he draws stretches just a little longer.
“Just—” he exhales heavily, like he is frustrated with himself, “It was as if you’re hearing me for what I actually am.”
And you know, somehow, that there is a deeper meaning to that. That it matters more to him than he lets on. Maybe it’s the way his fingers grip his bow more firmly, or the way his eyes drift off to somewhere beyond the room, but you see it.
You don’t have an answer back to it, which doesn’t help the atmosphere, so you just keep drawing him instead. Avoiding Mydei’s eyes and pressing harder on the page than you mean to.
The graphite darkens, and the light, you realize distantly, isn’t helping.
It spills from the fluorescent lamps at the ceiling, too bright and uneven, flattening everything it touches. It catches on the varnish of the violin too harshly, blows out the contours of his face, leaves parts of him in shadow where you don’t want them to be. You tilt your paper slightly, then back again, but it doesn’t fix it.
You exhale quietly through your nose.
And Mydei should’ve realized the frown on your face by now, because his sound slows and quiets down before he asks, “Something wrong?”
“Oh, don’t worry about it.” You wave your hands in the air, “It’s just the light causing some trouble. I never liked the studios of the school anyways. Nothing here screams art.”
He hums like that means anything to him, “Anything I can do?”
Your eyes drift from examining the lamps on the ceiling back to his face, “I, uh, I don’t think so? Not unless you know some art studio that doesn’t charge a fortune per hour, I guess.” You sigh.
Both of you sit in silence for a good minute, then agree to take a small break. Mydei lowers his violin and seems deep in thought, while you huff and puff to yourself, wiping off graphite from your fingers.
Just when you’re thinking the world is against this project since everything seems to be going downhill, Mydei’s hum brings you back.
“Actually,” he exhales lightly through his nose, almost a huff at himself, like he can’t believe he’s saying this, “My place has decent lighting. I live on a high floor and the living room has some tall windows.”
Your brows lift a little.
“You could use it. If you want. No pressure, obviously.” he says, a little softer. “If it’s weird, it’s weird. Just figured I’d mention it.”
A small “Oh,” is all you let out at first, “Yeah, um—yeah, that would be great actually. You sure you’re okay with this?”
He shrugs, “I don’t have that many guests and I live nearby, it shouldn’t be a problem.”
The idea of going to Mydei’s house—to paint him, no less—possibly spending hours there, alone; is a bit weird, like he said so. But curse your stupid head because you are a bit curious, and maybe a tiny bit eager.
For the drawing, obviously.
“Alright,” you take a deep breath, “When are you available?”
“How about,” he pauses, “Right now?”
The walk to Mydei’s apartment is mostly silent. He isn’t much of a talker, you’ve realized over the little time you’ve shared so far. You are though, in contrast to him. But not right now. Not when your steps feel too light and your pulse sounds like the chorus of an upbeat rock song.
“We’re here,” he points at a building with his head. You only hum in response.
You take the elevator to the twelfth floor. Mydei steps out with his hands in his bag, searching for something. Then he takes out his keys, they jingle between his fingers before he puts it in the lock and the door opens with a soft click. A small violin charm catches your eyes before he pulls them back out, and you smile to yourself a little before stepping in.
His place smells weirdly clean, like, too clean. Almost makes you question if he even lives here. But you also think that’s kind of in character of him.
He has tall windows that light up the place nicely. The walls, or anywhere else for that matter, isn’t really decorated. It’s just simple furniture, some blankets on a couch, and a big plant on the corner that looks out of place. Maybe gifted from someone else?
You shift your bag higher on your shoulder, breaking the quiet, “Your place is nice.”
He gives a small thanks in response before crossing the room, pushing one of the chairs back with his foot, clearing space near the windows.
“Will this work?”
You step closer, tilting your head, already framing him in your mind. “Yeah,” you shrug, “Way better than the studio.”
A lot more intimate too, your mind reminds you, but you don’t mention that to him.
“Where do you want me?” Mydei asks.
You observe his living room again after that, with more intent than just trying to familiarize yourself with his home.
“It would be nice if we could catch the evening sun,” you hum, “Maybe it could hit you from the side?”
He gives a quick nod and gets moving. Mydei pulls a chair in front of the window, takes his violin back out of its case and sits down, posing the same way he did earlier in the studio, and starts playing. You don’t have all your tools here but a sketchbook should be enough for now. So you sit down in front of him and take it out, your pencil already in your hand.
And the silence is back.
It’s not too awkward, thankfully. But you really wouldn’t mind some more energy in the room. It’s not the stillness of the moment that bothers you—the music is enough to move it—but more so him.
Wouldn’t be so bad if Mydei just gave a bit more than he does, you think. It wouldn’t be horrible if you knew what it meant when his brow raised slightly to the left, or when he flexes his hand every now and then—like a sudden fire burnt his fingertips, when he doesn’t really give an answer but just hums quietly—even if it wasn’t a question, or when he does literally anything else.
You trace the outline of his jawline on your paper, sharp as a knife yet as fixed as stone. His violin rests against it, having already made a home for itself there long time ago.
“So,” you exhale, “Tell me more about yourself?”
His amber eyes rise up from his fingers, and he stares off at the wall in front of him for a few seconds. A few seconds that feel like eternity for you.
“There isn’t much to tell, really. I mean, haven’t you already read the papers?”
Such a dry tone.
“I don’t really care what the papers say. Surely you’d be a better source, no?”
Mydei’s eyes flicker, and he looks like he’s about to speak for a second. He parts his lips, gives a small lick to them, while breathing in heavily, you can see his pupils move back and forth on the pattern of his rug. You wait in anticipation while he draws out another note and the quiet tick of the clock in the room counts time. It all happens so quickly and you really get your hopes up this time,
“I think they do quite a good job, actually.”
Only to be let down.
“I see.” you don’t mean to sigh, but it comes out anyway.
“So you two are finally working together?” The white haired man asks you with genuine surprise.
“Yes, Phai, we really are.” you reply, “I don’t really know how it happened either. One day I was practically begging for him to say yes, and the other I was drawing him play, in his apartment.”
The wide halls of your school echo with your steps, loud and only. Your friend helps you carry your new easel to one of the studios, the drag across the floor joining your footsteps. The year is about to end soon, classes are almost over and everyone has been slowly wrapping up their works. You however are still stuck with a stupid sketch in your hands and a bunch of other questions in your head.
You’ve been thinking about your work, if you have enough time, if it’ll come out like you visualized, but most importantly, if you’re doing it right. Mydei has been nothing but generous towards you. He’s been kind and he doesn’t complain, you would even go as far as to say he actually enjoys it, that he’s looking forward to the end product.
It’s obviously expected that he would be curious or maybe even excited, but you feel like the way his eyes widen every time you make a slightly sharper flick of your wrist on the paper says something more about him.
You caught him peeking at your open sketchbook on the coffee table once when you two were taking a break. It’s a bigger one than your usual so everything is much more clear, more final on the pages.
“Like what you see?” you ask in between bites from the fruit he peeled for you.
He whips his head toward you, clearly not aware that you were watching him, “Sorry, it looks nice.”
“Don’t apologize,” you lick the juice off your thumb, “It’s you on the paper.”
The room is silent, actually silent this time. No violin, no pencil meeting paper, no huffing and puffing because of some wrong lines and a sore neck. Just you, him, and the cold peaches sitting on the table in front of you. Other than the occasional eye contact you two make (which almost immediately ends with one of you looking away in no longer than a second), and the soft taps of his fingers across the marble countertop, not much else is happening.
Making small talk with Mydei is difficult. Not because he isn’t much of a talker, although you’re sure that plays a small part too, but because he doesn’t share, you think.
Mydei keeps to himself. It’s been—what, three sessions so far? Which equals to two weeks of knowing and meeting Mydei. Yet your knowledge about him is still almost as limited as what the internet tells you.
It’s important to understand your subject for your drawing, yes, but putting all of that aside, you’re curious about Mydei. Ever since that stage, ever since feeling like your soul was leaving your skin, ever since running after him in heels that hit all the wrong spots on your feet, you’ve been curious about him.
And when you’re trying to get your sketch across a bigger paper, clipped on the wooden stand Phainon helped you drag into the studio, it happens.
A small ding from your phone interrupts your conversation.
Mydei: Do you think we could do a session today?
“It’s him?” Phainon’s blue eyes search your face with anticipation.
He’s enjoying this way too much, you think, but your friend is lucky because you have better concerns right now.
“Yeah, he’s asking to meet up.” You furrow your brows in confusion. Your next session isn’t due until three days.
“Like, an actual meet up?”
Phainon takes a step next to you, then leans forward to see your phone screen clearly, “A session?”
“Yes, that’s what we call them. But our next one still has some time, I don’t really understand why he’s asking for one right now.” You scratch your neck with your other hand, then mumble quietly, almost a question, “I mean it doesn’t even benefit him.”
Phainon snickers, “Maybe he just misses you.”
That earns him a slap on the shoulder.
You quickly type back, not wanting to make him wait.
Me: our next one is in three days iirc?
Me: but sure!! my schedule’s empty
Mydei: Sorry if it’s inconvenient. You can come over whenever.
Me: will be there in 20
“You’re excited,” Phainon jokes, “You sure this is strictly professional?”
Not really.
“Stop it already, oh my god,” you give a look to him, “I just don’t have anything better to do, and mind you, he’s the one asking.”
Phainon laughs, it’s a loud and unbothered sound. He definitely is enjoying this.
You’re in front of Mydei’s apartment in sixteen minutes since your last message.
The city is warm and the building is warmer. Your hair is sticking to your skin at the curve of your neck, your hands are sweaty from holding onto your bag too tight, and Mydei still hasn’t opened the door.
Well, that might be because you haven’t rang the bell yet, but we’re putting that aside.
It’s just the thought of showing up unplanned, or let’s say three days earlier than what was planned. Coming to his house and feeling like this is more than what the two of you agreed on, more than you trying to keep your eyes on only the parts you’re supposed to draw, more than him keeping quiet, keeping to himself.
Your fingers reach up to the doorbell, only for Mydei to beat you to it. The door opens with a fast swing, almost giving you a heart attack.
“Oh my gods, Mydei,” you rest your hand against your chest, “You scared the living crap out of me.”
“Sorry,” the blonde purses his lips, “I heard some noises so I thought I’d check it out.”
“Well, the noises were me.”
Mydei steps aside to let you in with another quiet apology, but you catch the way he dips his head low in hopes of hiding the small smile playing on his lips.
His place is the same as always, clean, quiet, everything you’ve gotten used to by know. But then you take another step in, and it hits you, the smell of something sweet coming from the kitchen.
“Sorry for asking so suddenly,” Mydei says as he locks the door behind you. “I know we said Friday.”
“It’s fine,” you answer too quickly. “I wasn’t doing anything important but, um, you—did you bake something?”
Mydei doesn’t give an answer immediately, just busies himself with taking your bag off your hands and places it somewhere in the living room. You don’t really push, you stopped doing that some time ago.
He walks toward the kitchen, you try not to stare at him while unpacking your stuff, yet you still catch your eyes following him from across the apartment as he fills a kettle with water. He’s dressed casually today, loose dark pants, sleeves rolled to his elbows, pale hair still slightly messy like he’d been running his hands through it all afternoon.
Mydei turns back toward the counter, but not before you catch the way his jaw tightens slightly. “You want tea?” he asks after a moment.
“Sure.” You answer without making eye contact with him.
He doesn’t say anything else, so you begin setting up your pencils while he moves around the kitchen. Your eyes start wandering again. You notice how he hasn’t set up his chair like he usually does before you come, or how his violin is sitting on the couch already.
“You were practicing before I got here?” you ask.
He hums without turning, “Just some old ones I wanted to remember.”
Before you can say anything back, Mydei starts moving. He opens the fridge first, taking out a bowl with stretch film wrapped over it, then he takes out some pre-cut fruits, shuts the fridge, moves to a different part of his kitchen.
You watch all of it in silence.
And when you’re about to ask what’s the matter, a ding sound interrupts his movements. Then he puts on the oven glove resting on the counter, opens the oven and—takes out a cake?
“Huh, you really were baking.” you tilt your head, “Are you celebrating something?”
The kettle clicks softly in the kitchen. Which gives him his escape from answering your question, or so you thought. Because this time, Mydei opens.
“It’s my mothers birthday,” he’s quiet while filling the cups with hot water.
“Oh, is she arriving soon?” You ask with a smile, “Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve gotten something on my way here.”
You regret asking that as soon as the words leave your mouth, because it’s impossible to miss the way the air tenses around the two of you. The room is silent, again. Mydei gives a look your way, then he puts the kettle down slowly. He’s calm in a very unusual way, he moves slower, he even talks slower, you think. But you catch the way he grips the edge of the counter with his hands until his skins turns white.
“No,” he breathes, “No, she isn’t arriving. I celebrate it by myself.”
Then he looks at you. That’s when it hits you. Oh, stupid you.
You want to slap yourself across the face, lay on the ground and kick yourself in the stomach, but all you could do is raise your eyebrows slightly at the man in front of you.
The words catch you off guard for some reason. Not because of what he said, but because he offered it at all. Usually conversations with Mydei are like trying to catch water in your hands. He gives answers that are polite but thin, always enough to end the discussion before it becomes personal.
So this feels… different.
“I’m sorry,” you say before anything else comes out of your mouth that would make you regret coming here at all.
His brows pinch slightly, “Why are you apologizing?”
“I don’t know.” You give a helpless little laugh,
For a second he simply watches you. Then, surprisingly—
“She used to make that cake every year,” he points at the counter, “I’ve been continuing the tradition, I guess.”
The fondness in his voice is tiny, but unmistakable. And funny enough, this might be the most he’s ever spoken to you at once.
You’re terrified of ruining it.
“So…” you say carefully, “Why invite me over today?”
The question hangs in the air for a minute. You can almost see the gears turning in Mydei’s head, almost to say, Why did I invite her? And you think, or maybe you hope, he just needed company. Mydei, who has been celebrating his mothers birthday all these years, all by himself, needed you here today.
You don’t know what to feel about that possibility.
“I’m not sure, to be honest,” he laughs to himself, as if he can’t believe you’re here either, “I guess I thought you’d enjoy the cake.”
You stare at his face for a good minute, it’s probably only a few seconds in reality, but feels like a minute. With the way his golden strands frame his face, or the way the afternoon light hits his nose, the way his fingers wrap around the piping bag, the way he looks so vulnerable right now; it feels like an eternity actually.
Mydeimos, from the second you’ve witnessed him, felt so, so vulnerable. And you can’t help but see it every time your eyes catch his sights. But despite it all, despite all of the things you see beyond his eyes, all the burdens you know he carries, you still can’t help but smile a little when he looks into your eyes. The man just has that kind of effect on you.
“Yeah, I probably would,” you try to keep your laugh inside while walking up to him, “If only you weren’t absolutely murdering that cake right now.”
“I—” Mydei tilts his head to the side, like a lost puppy. It looks foreign on him, in all honesty. Not unwelcome though.
“Let me help. I’m actually part decent at this kind of stuff, you know, art and all.”
“Right,” he nods his head once, then hands the piping bag to you.
As you take the bag from his hands, you try to ignore the way your fingers brush against his, or the way he takes a second longer than necessary while giving it to you. Almost hesitant.
And you understand it. It’s not surprising that he would halter. It’s not surprising that his fingers, which have been strongly pressing to strings like hammers, yet also move like an irresistible force, would tremble slightly while giving the frosting filled bag to you.
Because it’s just frosting. But then it’s not.
It’s not just sugar, milk and cream. It’s today of every year. It’s Mydei sitting alone in his apartment and blowing candles for god knows how many times now.
The lemony scent hits your nose as soon as you wrap your hands around the plastic. It’s then accompanied with something sweet, like vanilla. And it takes everything in you to not look at Mydei as you squeeze the bag until the top of the cake is smeared in frosting.
“It smells nice,” you mumble, “Made it yourself too?”
“Lemon and vanilla,” Mydei hums. Knew it. “She used to love it. I probably never get the recipe right. It doesn’t taste the same. But the smell still brings some memories back, y’know.”
“What was her name?”
“Gorgo.” The word comes out as a whisper. Like it knows how heavy it is.
“That’s a beautiful name,” you smile, “I’m sure she would appreciate your efforts.”
Mydei let’s out a laugh. A breathy, small and quick one. But still, undeniably, a laugh.
“She would,” he shakes his head, “Then she’d slap me in the head for not making the cake correctly.”
The image makes you laugh too. And as Mydei takes out pomegranate seeds out of another bag, you imagine him, seven maybe eight years old, tiny footsteps into the kitchen, peering from the back of the door and watching his mom, Gorgo, prepare her birthday cake.
Maybe he would try to keep quiet. Maybe he’d go up to her and pester his mom about the cake. If we’re being honest, you don’t really know how small Mydei would be like. The same way you don’t know how he is now.
Or maybe that is slowly changing. Slowly, but it is.
“She didn’t use pomegranates, but I like the taste.”
“You’re telling me a lot about yourself today,” and as soon as the words leave your mouth, you regret them. You’re sure you’ve ruined it now. “Not that I mind or anything of course but—”
“I just think she would’ve liked you.”
The piping bag nearly slips from your hands.
For a moment, the only sound in the apartment is the soft hum of the refrigerator and the distant traffic outside the window. You stare at the half-decorated cake. Then at Mydei. Then back at the cake.
Because surely he didn't just say that.
“I—I see,” you purse your lips, “What makes you say that?”
Mydei doesn’t answer immediately, just keeps decorating the cake with the red seeds.
He’s mostly quiet, mostly focused, competitive even though he doesn't show it, one hell of a musician, talented beyond his years, and he for sure knows how to make your chest tighten. Maybe it’s on purpose, maybe he just likes seeing you in this state. Or maybe you’re just delusional.
Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re holding your breath.
“I have a feeling she would,” he shrugs like it’s no big deal.
That’s when you raise your head to protest about how that’s so vague, but you silence yourself as soon as you catch him staring at you.
Amber eyes, golden hair dipped in sunset. A pronounced nose, a sharp jawline, and a face that seems almost sculpted rather than born. As if that weren't unfair enough, the afternoon sun wraps around him in gold, turning every feature softer and brighter.
He looks less like a person and more like an angel fallen from heaven. No wonder your heart is pounding hard enough to shake your ribs.
“Yeah,” he murmurs. So quiet, you wonder if you’d imagined it. “Yeah, she definitely would.”
Then as if nothing happened. As if nothing changed, nothing has been said. Mydei turns back to the cake. He keeps putting the seeds on the cake, some to the side. He even tilts his head to the side at one point, like he’s really focused. On the cake.
While you’re stuck in your place, hands tight, chest tighter. The moment has passed. Nothing happened. Nothing at all.
But you still smile to yourself as the lemony scent of the frosting fills the room.
end notes: thank you so much for reading this far!! this is of course not the end yet. i have 3 maybe 4 parts planned for this fic but we'll see where the road takes us. and the next part probably won't be up for some time as finals are around the corner :,) but i hope you'll wait for me patiently until then!!!
mic test, mic test, mic test... WELCOME TO DISCTRICT 99 !! a network focused on creating events and building a community of writers. we welcome creators from various fandoms, including but not limited to hyv games, jjk, l&ds, haikyuu, bsd, and alnst.
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"A double edged sword, and a pain far more stinging than war"
Sypnosis : Mydei, a man who doesn't trust easily, has put himself and his heart in your hands. You, on the other hand—the same person who held his heart—didn't care, you just needed the coreflame, so why bother and care?
Warnings : Slight mentions of blood, spoilers for the Amphoreus story, betryal (obviously), Grammatical and spelling mistakes, guilt tripping. Not proofread
Tags : Mydei x GN!reader, Mydei x Reader, manipulative reader, angst, hurt/no comfort (yes)
Writer's note : this is for my hg :3 anything to get me out of Writer's block. Short asf, I am not writing more. Motivation flew out twice. Anyways. Evil reader might become my new writing subject.
You stood behind Mydei, watching as he gasped for air, choking on his own blood, with your blade impaled right into his tenth thoracic vertebrae as the iron got painted with golden ichor. The Prince stared at you, indignation and offense on his face. This was the same person that laughed with him, the same person that he held in the rubble of his lands, the same person that saw him everyday and smiled, the same person he apologized to when arguments flew by. This was the same person that stood behind him, looking both tired and apathetic, all in a cruel way that tugged at his senses, brutally so. You did really break that string, the string he trusted you with, the string that kept him alive and more at peace with you. Fate was cruel, and you were its executive.
"Why.." The man muttered, holding the blade as his own soul slipped through, not in the fleeting way it had left a multitude of times, no, it spilled slowly, agonizingly, like a flame that finally bent to the Gods' will and let itseld get crushed under. You only stared at him, gripping the hilt of your sword, eyes narrowed, words oddly empty.
"Mydei, I still love you, do not worry...this is for the best..." a lie, one you knew he wouldn't take...unless he was that irrational. You continued, that same, emotionless tone lacing your voice, "I just need the coreflame. You'll forget about the pain. I'm doing this for your sake, for your people, for us.." Selfishness was a chain that choked its victim till they forgot what awareness was, Selfishness was a path that haunted its victim till they died from its confusing ways
You took your sword out, listening to the gut-wrenching sound that adorned it, eyes glancing at the golden blood that fell onto the cracked rocks beneath your boots. Mydei glanced at you, eyes slowly losing their shine as the realization hit. You never wanted him, you just needed the coreflame, all for escape. You never had regret, all behind that smile and those sweet nothings. You just took him to his own demise and disguised it as love. Cruel
"...why? Why break trust..? Why do this.." he only muttered weakly, his own defiance dimming out with his soul. You scoffed, walking up to his face and gripping it, gently, as if you hadn't taken his life away. You held the coreflame, eyes a devoid of the faux affection you used to show him, just revealjng every true colour of yours
"You wouldn't have given a thing to me, dear Mydei. Just know that this is for Amphoreus. Trust is broken for a reason. You trust too easily too" you rolled your eyes internally at your words. You leaned in and placed a peck on his cheek, cold, heavy, insincere. You let his body fall as he choked on his blood, the golden liquid colouring the harsh rocks in a gentle reminder. 33,550,335th cycle. You didn't bother dwelling on it, turning around as you walked away from his body, dragging your weapon by you as the dust clung to you, your mind set on the other coreflames.
Mydei's eyes landed on your sword and boots as you walked away, his mind reeling as blood pounded in his ears, body limp as he felt himself grow lighter. You were the same person he believed, doubted his own self for, the same person he pulled down his walls for, the same person he fought alongside and trusted with his back, the same person he bent his leg for so you wouldn't feel inferior. The Titans really cursed him, oh how he blamed himself for his trust, for the strings he pulled to just let you into his heart. A double edged blade, and a pain sharper than war, cruelty caught him, and that cruelty was you...a blinding matter really, but real, a stab in the back taken too literally, don't you think? Love is beautiful, but horrifying, a flower so poisonous yet gorgeous
