Hello :DD i was wondering like if you can do something with amphoreus men with a fugue like s/o?
Like we all know that tingyun was possessed by phantalia and came back as fugue after being saved by ruan mei. What if their s/o was also killed the way tingyun was killed (the iconic neck snap) and the one possessing her is an evil titan, and died in front of them. after that their s/o is saved by the herta and the astral express were the ones to bring her back to them.
Thats all tysm <333
You Were Taken, But Never Lost
Tags: Mydei x Reader, Phainon x Reader, Fugue (from HSR) based Reader, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Resurrection, Reunions, Slow Burn, Emotional Baggage, Protective, Found Family, Violence, Post-Trauma, Second Chances, Determination, Past Possession, Identity Struggles, Fate & Prophecy Themes.
Warnings: Mentions of Death, Past Possession, PTSD Themes, Mentions of Violence, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Existential Angst, Brief References to Body Control, Identity Crisis, Heavy Themes.
The air in Okhema was thick with the scent of war—iron and fire, smoke and death. Mydei stood at the edge of the battlefield, blood drying against his skin, his breathing steady but weighted. Victory had come at a cost, but nothing compared to what he had lost.
You.
He had watched you die. Not just fall, not just bleed—he had watched as an unseen force, an accursed Titan, curled its will around you, snapped your neck like a brittle reed, and wore your skin like a mockery of the person you once were.
Your laughter, your sharp wit, your calculating gaze that could pick apart schemes and bargains with ease—it had all been twisted into something unrecognizable. And then, just like that, you were gone.
He had fought, raged, carved a path through the battlefield with vengeance burning in his veins, but he had not been able to save you.
But now—now you stood before him.
Alive.
Changed.
Your eyes, once filled with clever mischief, now carried a depth he could not yet understand. The brand of Destruction lingered on your shoulder, a cruel reminder of the past stolen from you. Your presence was steady, but there was a hesitation that had never been there before, a moment of silence where once there had been a confident quip.
“Mydei,” you spoke at last, voice familiar yet foreign. “I’m back.”
He did not know what to say. What did one say to a ghost who returned to them?
And then, with all the restraint he could muster, he exhaled and murmured, “You never should have been taken.”
You offered a small smile, though it did not quite reach your eyes. “Yet here I am.”
His hands trembled at his sides. He was not one for grand gestures, nor did he have the eloquence of Phainon. But he knew this—if fate had returned you to him, then he would fight it tooth and nail to keep you by his side this time.
“I will not lose you again,” he vowed, voice rough with determination.
This time, your smile softened. “Then you better keep up, Prince.”
Aedes Elysiae was a city of gold and light, but in that moment, it felt unbearably cold.
Phainon had known loss, had seen the weight of fate crumble even the strongest of warriors. But nothing could have prepared him for losing you. Nothing could have steeled him for the moment he had watched you fall—watched your body betray you under the control of a Titan’s will, watched as your smile turned cruel, your voice laced with venom that was not your own.
And then, when the fight was over, you were simply… gone.
He had stood in the wreckage of battle, his hands shaking, his perfect composure fracturing. No elegant words, no graceful poise—just grief, raw and all-consuming.
And now?
Now you were here. Alive. Changed.
The stars must have aligned, or perhaps the Astral Express had rewritten fate itself, but you stood before him once more. Your posture was poised, calculated, but he could see the weight in your stance—the brand of Destruction that marred your shoulder, the hesitation in your gaze that had never existed before.
“Phainon,” you spoke his name like an uncertain melody.
He breathed in sharply, taking in the sight of you, as if you might vanish again should he blink. “You were taken from me,” he said softly, hands curling into fists at his sides. “And now you stand before me.”
“I don’t know if I am the same person you lost,” you admitted, voice quiet but steady. “But I will not let them decide who I become.”
A beat of silence passed, then another. Phainon stepped forward, carefully, as if crossing a fragile bridge. He reached out, his fingertips brushing against yours—a silent promise, an unspoken vow.
“You are you,” he murmured. “And that is enough.”
For now, for always.
And as you stood together beneath the golden sky, the weight of the past between you, he knew one thing for certain—he would follow you into any battle, any storm, any uncertain future, if only to keep you by his side.
Character who is functioning on auto pilot after something traumatic happened. Maybe they were banished. Maybe they were kicked out of their house/team. Maybe they had to flee.
They do what needs to be done, arrive in a new city, find a job, get a place to stay.
The second they reach their new room and sit down on their bed, it's all too much. Character just... mentally checks out.
They don't know how long they've been sitting there, but nothing registers as time passes by. Not the light from outside moving through their room, not the noises from the city streets below. No hunger or thirst. They just sit there, empty.
It's not until the room has gone dark and the city went silent that they suddenly snap back to themselves with a gasp.
והפעם מזווית ראייתו של שר האביב:
יקינטון הקטן שלי (בגרסא שלי) חווה את המלחמה בצורה ממש מאתגר. הוא רגיש מאוד, כמוני. וכמו כל תושבי העולם הפנימי שלי, הוא סופג את האנרגיות החיצוניות דרכי.. ולאחרונה אני באמת מרגישה צורך לבטא רגשות דרך הציורים שלי בצורה כזו למרות שקשה לי לפרסם כאלה.
(הבוסית שלי כבר יודעת שאני חווה הצפות רגשיות ובמקרים הללו אני חייבת להפסיק הכל, לצאת החוצה ולבטא את הרגשות שלי)
זה אחד מיני רבים מתוך ציורי הביטוי שלי שאני מציירת לצורך פריקת רגשות עמוקים.
יש לי עוד המון קומיקסים וציורים שמעולם עדיין לא פרסמתי, שנועדו עבור התרפיה האישית שלי.
אני קוראת לזה - יומן רגשות וויזואלי..
And this time from the Spring Minister’s POV:
Little Hyacinth experienced those 3 years of war in a really challenging way. (He is very sensitive, like me..) And like all the inhabitants of my inner world, he absorbs the external energies through me.. And recently I really feel the need to express my feelings through drawing in this way even though it is difficult for me to post them.
This is just ONE of many of my expressive artworks that I draw to release deep pain and feelings.
I have many more comics and arts that I have never posted yet, intended for my personal therapy.
(And Hyacinth is my favorite fairy character, so…🧚🏻)
I’m post-traumatic. And even in casefires between the rounds I still feel very stressed and I feel something like hard sadness.. I allow myself to cry when I feel emotional flooding. Even in my work in the office.
My boss already knows that I still need to process what I’ve go through during this endless war..
I call it “Visual Emotion Diary”. This is my way to cope with my traumas. It’s my therapy..
