Even in Arcadia
Phaidei / Explicit / Post-canon ritual sex
Kissing Phainon feels like the rush of a hundred battles, like the joy of a good fight, like the sweet song of Strife's power. It's adrenaline pumping, it's nerves singing in delight—mouth fitting against mouth, lips slotting against lips, tongue sliding against tongue. It's Phainon's fingers tangling in his hair and the searing heat of his arousal; it's the thunderous beat of Mydei's heart and hips rutting together; it's quiet moans and chests heaving for breath. It's Mydei's fantasies put to shame—33 million lifetimes of bottled desire finally, finally overflowing. Mydei feels thoroughly, unbelievably, irrevocably alive.
Art by the incredible @mafuwara















