"In The City Of Flowers" - Anaxagorus x Astrologist! Reader
This particular track emanates a serene and contemplative atmosphere. Similar to the previous song, but not quite the same. Maybe we could toss them on a date or something... Up to you <3
Where Petals Fall, So Too Do The Stars
Summary: In the flower-draped streets of Okhema, the Astrologist and Anaxagoras share a rare, tranquil day together. Amid music, petals, and fading sunlight, they exchange thoughts on fate, gods, and the fragility of love. A quiet moment of intimacy unfolds, woven with unspoken fears and unshakable devotion. It is a memory preserved in your mind — gentle, fleeting, and already slipping into myth.
Tags: Anaxagorus x Reader, Astrologist!Reader, Angst with Comfort, Bittersweet Romance, Found Family, Vulnerable Characters, Pre-Tragedy, Memory Sequence, Soft Moments, Existential Themes, Hand-Holding, Star Motifs, Implied Past Trauma, Slow Burn Vibes, Unspoken Love, Semi-Poetic Prose.
Warnings: Implications of character death (Anaxagoras), Discussion of mortality and godhood, Emotional vulnerability, References to past trauma, manipulation, Melancholy undertones, Romantic intimacy.
The wind carried the scent of rosewood and old books. The streets of Okhema were aglow in the golden hour, their cobbled paths scattered with petals — scattered not by design, but by wild wind and the city’s irrepressible life.
It was the one place Anaxagoras allowed himself to walk without his gloves.
You remember this day — vividly, impossibly so — the kind that burns so deep into memory it defies time. His left hand, warm against yours. His right, still gloved.
"Even gods are jealous of cities like this," he said, and his voice had that rare softness. "They hold no dominion here — only memory does."
You had argued with him earlier that morning, of course. Over a star chart. Over the meaning of a flame-shaped constellation whose pattern you claimed predicted a catastrophe, and which he stubbornly called a "statistical coincidence amplified by myth-making." His words. You’d thrown a chair. He had laughed. And now here you were, walking alongside him like nothing had happened.
Anaxagoras stopped before a street musician playing a lyre, the notes faint, meandering like drifting stardust. He tilted his head toward the music, eye half-lidded as if listening to a voice only he could hear.
"You know," he said after a pause, "I’ve always found something poetic about your belief in destiny."
"You mean foolish."
"I said poetic." A pause. “Besides, I only call things foolish when I secretly wish I believed in them.”
You narrowed your eyes. “You’re being sentimental again, Anaxa.”
“Mm. And you’re not running away this time.”
He was right. Usually, intimacy made you freeze. But now — walking beside him, amid flowers, music, and that waning sun — you felt calm. Tethered. Real.
You paused in front of a small fountain, where dromas pecked at fallen petals floating on the surface. It reminded you of the stories he told you when you couldn’t sleep — of artificial birds, of wind-powered toys that never soared, of a boy who knelt alone beside a burned house and never once cursed the gods.
He sat on the stone edge of the fountain. His eye was brighter than the sun through stained glass. And for a long moment, he said nothing. Just... looked at you. Like he was trying to memorize every fragment of your face, should time rip it away.
Then softly — so softly — he said:
“I never thought I'd live long enough to fall in love.”
You flinched. The words stung more than they soothed.
“You won’t,” you whispered. “You’ll die, won’t you?”
He didn’t answer. He didn’t need to.
“I’m not scared of death,” he murmured. “I’m scared of becoming a god. Of losing the capacity to change. To fail. Of forgetting what it meant to feel—this.”
He took your hand again. This time, both hands were bare.
“I’m scared of forgetting you.”
The stars weren’t out yet, but you knew them by heart. You’d named constellations after his scars. His laughter. The asymmetry of his love.
You sat beside him, pressing your forehead to his. He smelled of dust, ink, and something sweet — Antila oil, maybe. The silence stretched between you like silk.
“If I become a god,” you whispered, “will you destroy me too?”
He smiled — that crooked, beautiful smile. “Only if you ask me nicely.”
And the petals kept falling. And the birds kept singing.
And somewhere in the echo of a future that had not yet collapsed, a Titan’s heart trembled.
We often talk about how to write strong women, and how “good at punching things” does not necessarily make a female character strong (If you want me to add my two sense on the topic I can make a post about this later)
What we don’t talk about as much is writing vulnerable male characters. Just like how strong female characters should not be a character archetype that you chose from (All female characters should be strong well rounded individuals that express their strength and individuality in their own way) Vulnerable male characters should not be an archetype either.
All male characters should be multi dimensional. The soft side kick (Ex. Samwise Gamgee) should not be the only character that is aloud to be vulnerable. The hero should also be aloud to acknowledge their weaknesses and emotions, fail at things and need others to save them, and show their feelings in front of people they trust.
Now I understand that not every character is going to spill their tragic backstory to everyone the minute they meet. What I mean is that when the character is in a setting where they feel safe they should be able to drop the pretense of being the perfect hero who is never phased by anything. If the character is someone who doesn’t even feel safe expressing their needs around their friends (For example, toxic ideas of needing to lead by example or a past of abuse which leads to mistrust) that that needs to be addressed in story, show the struggle they have with honestly connecting with others.
Vulnerability is just as much of a universal experience as strength is and it should not be isolated to female characters and a small number of male side characters.
