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Summary : In which, you find a poisoned meal at your doorstep every morning. And so, you make it your life's motto to savor it and provide your thoughts.
Much to Lohen's dismay, you never seemed particularly impressed by any of his carefully crafted poisons.
While most love stories begin with flowers, yours began with poison.
Most people reacted poorly to poison. They cried, screamed, and maybe even succumbed to death.
You, apparently smiled.
Lohen had first heard the rumor by accident.
"Apparently the new medic (Y/N) has a strange fascination with toxins," a knight muttered over drinks.
He hadn’t meant to care. He really hadn’t. But something about the word 'fascination' lodged itself under his skin like a splinter that refused to be ignored.
So, naturally, he did what any reasonable man with too much curiosity and too little restraint would do—he investigated.
Two alchemists confirmed it later, whispering that you had once voluntarily tasted diluted snake venom just to observe its effects.
That further piqued his curiosity.
And what better way to find out the truth than test the rumor himself?
After a day of locking himself in his house, he had come up with his very own poison. Made from the remains of a dendro slime, mixed with a few crushed petals of Dendrobium, and a generous splash of expired alcohol stolen from the Cat’s Tail.
He didn't know if it was truly toxic. In fact, he just mixed random ingredients he found revolting.
He wasn't planning on truly poisoning you after all. In its current concentration, it would merely cause temporary numbness (maybe).
And so he placed a cute little package in front of your house (he stole the documents that held information of those working under the Grand Master to find your address). Inside the package was a plate of Hash Brown he had cooked himself.
Of course, the poison was sprinkled on top as well.
He knocked on the door to your house and hid in a bush nearby.
He watched the door open, a shiver of excitement going down his spine.
But when you stepped out, his eyes widened. You weren’t what he had imagined. Not old, not bitter, not hunched over with tired eyes and stained robes.
You looked... young and composed. Normal in fact.
You glanced at the package, shrugged, and brought it inside.
The next day, he had half hoped there would be some commotion. Instead, nothing happened.
Lohen found that significantly more unsettling than if you had screamed.
Did you not open it?
Did you die?
Worse, did you throw it away?
By the second day, irritation curdled into curiosity again, and curiosity dragged him back to your house.
He hadn’t even reached the door when something stopped him.
A box.
His box.
He stared at it, then at the note pinned neatly on top.
It read-
---
Observation Log
Possible dendro slime derivative.
Taste profile:
Slight bitterness.
Floral aftertaste.
Perhaps traces of alcohol.
Symptoms:
Tingling lips.
Mild numbness in fingers.
Onset approximately twenty-five seconds.
Conclusion:
Sloppily made poison.
---
He stared at the handwriting. The faint smell of alcohol lingering on the hastily ripped paper.
'..... Sloppy?' he scoffed, annoyance creeping up into his face. He crumbled the paper, staring at the door with a sadistic smile.
"Fine then. I'll show you real poison."
The next morning, another box appeared at your doorstep.
Like last time, you took it into your home. You had no idea who was delivering these, but the last package being drenched in a mild toxin made it interesting enough for you to open.
You tore open the box.
This time, it was a plate of mushroom pizza.
"Oh, that looks delicious." you muttered to yourself, noticing the unusual purple coloring on the crust.
You reached and held a piece of the pizza near your mouth. And without a care, you took a huge bite from the area where the coloring was the brightest.
The following day, Lohen returned to find another note on your doorstep. This time it was more detailed than the last.
---
Observation Log
Low concentration of Aconitum.
Taste profile:
Initial sweet-bitter note.
Followed by burning sensation.
Symptoms:
Numbness.
Dizziness.
Loss of strength.
Conclusion:
Good posion. Easily countered.
Although, I liked the taste of the pizza.
(attached are my other observations)
---
There were six pages attached.
Six.
Lohen stared, flipping through the pages with a smile. "God. She's insane."
This started the exchange of poisons and paper notes.
The next package that Lohen put on your doorstep had a small note of his own.
---
To the Medic
Firstly, fuck you.
Secondly, you missed a secondary ingredient. (Hint : It was Naku weed)
Thirdly, thank you for complimenting the pizza.
I made it myself.
---
Your response appeared the next morning.
---
To the Poisoner
1. Rude.
2. I did not miss the ingredient. Naku weed has no toxic properties. Just color.
3. The posion on the crust was obvious. Are you perhaps new to this poisoning thing?
---
Your responses pissed the Vice captain even more. Because how dare a lowly medic like you have the audacity to critic his cooking?!
He tried even harder after that.
More precise blends. Better masking. Controlled dosages. Carefully calibrated ingredients. Tried perfecting the recipe so you couldn't find any faults.
Everything.
After making sure everything was perfect, he delivered the next package. A plate of Northern Apple Stew.
The reply next day was written in a crumbled paper with messy handwriting.
---
Rules for Future Poisoning
1. No explosive diarrhea.
2. No permanent injury.
3. No organ damage.
4. No blindness.
5. No poisoning children.
6. Food should remain edible
---
Lohen rolled his eyes at the rules. "Killjoy." To him these rules just were unnecessary boundaries that ruined his fun.
But he never wanted to stop this exchange between the two of you. It was much too entertaining for him.
Unknown to him, that night ended with you locking yourself in your room. Having non stop diarrhea for hours.
Soon the notes became longer than the poisons themselves.
One morning, the package you opened had a plate of Cream Stew.
And this time the note attached had a list of ingredients used.
---
Current Theory
The toxin should produce localized muscle weakness.
Estimated duration:
Two hours.
Possible side effects:
Dizziness.
Drowsiness.
Complaining.
Will you be able to guess what I used (Y/N)? °^°?
---
Three days later Lohen received something he could only call a report.
A dossier.
Twenty-two pages which included diagrams, charts, annotated symptom timelines.
And corrections.
So many corrections.
---
Page 14: dosage error.
Page 17: please stop using kitchen spoons as lab tools.
Page 19: “Did you eyeball the concentration?”
---
Unfortunately Lohen had. And he hated that you noticed.
Months passed and somehow it became a routine.
Your medic colleagues grew increasingly worried seeing you drowsy every other day.
"Do you know who keeps sending you poison?" one asked.
You shook your head. "No, not really."
"Shouldn't that concern you?"
You looked confused. "Why?"
"Because they're poisoning you...?"
You blinked. Honestly, if the person wanted to kill you, they could have used other deadly toxins. Yet, they always made sure to use small doses and non lethal ingredients.
You smiled to yourself. "They are very considerate actually."
"... Oh." the medic froze.
You tapped a finger on your cheek. "They also have lovely handwriting."
"..."
The medic walked away. Unable to continue the conversation.
Lohen, meanwhile, was also not doing well.
Varka had his suspicions when he first saw the crazed man laughing while tasting the exotic plants he had ordered.
One day, while Lohen was away on a mission, he broke the lock of his drawer and read through all the papers in there.
Papers about toxic plants. Possible ingredients. And of course, all the notes you had written to him.
He ran a hand through his hair. "What the hell is happening in Mondstadt?"
Varka immediately dragged Lohen by the collar and pushed him into the store you worked in to apologize.
You looked up from your desk and instantly recognized him as your mysterious poisoner.
Not by his face. But by his hands.
The stained fingertips. The chemical burns. The ink marks. The quiet proof of obsession.
"Oh," you smiled softly. "It's you."
Lohen blinked.
Varka shoved him forward. "Apologise to the lady Lohen."
Oh. So his name was Lohen.
The boy looked deeply offended. "I don't want to."
"Apologize." The Grand Master repeated, his gaze cold.
Lohen sighed dramatically. Then glanced toward you. "...Sorry for poisoning you."
You immediately shook your head, a small laugh escaping your lips. "There is so need for apologies. I should be thanking you actually."
Silence.
Even Varka froze.
You continued, brighter now. "The poisons were genuinely fascinating."
Varka looked horrified.
"I learned to make dozens of new antidote!"
Lohen stared. Mesmerized.
"Also the toxins were quite creative! Honestly, every morning became something to look forward to."
Varka took a breath, and turned his gaze to the ceiling, perhaps praying to Barbatos why they allowed these two people to exist.
"Also the notes were fun!" you added, opening your drawer and placing a the stack of notes you had carefully stapled.
Lohen wasn't even listening anymore.
Because you were smiling.
At him.
Because of him.
Because he had poisoned you.
It was a stupid conversation. The girl in front of him was grateful for poisoning her. It was reckless, idiotic and yet...
At that moment his heart made some several terrible decisions.
He realised.
With a lot of hesitation...
That-
'Oh.'
'Oh no.'
'You were kinda cute.'
He had known your name for months. Known where you worked. Known your habits. Your favorite medicinal herbs. The way your handwriting became messier when excited.
But seeing you in person? Actually talking to you?
He was finished.
Absolutely in love.
That night he didn't sleep. Instead he sat at his desk surrounded by herbs, powders, vials, and failed formulas, staring at his next experiment like it might hold divine answers.
Most men wrote poetry.
Most men gifted flowers.
Most men confessed.
But Lohen was not most men.
He lifted a vial of deep red liquid, watching it swirl under lamplight with a manic smile. "If she barely liked the last one... I'll just make one that is even better."
And thus began the greatest romantic pursuit in history.
Not through gifts or heartfelt letters.
But through an escalating series of increasingly sophisticated poisons.
Lohen's new life goal was simple.
Create a poison so fascinating, so beautiful so perfect....
That when you tasted it—
You'd fall hopelessly in love with its creator.
Unfortunately for him, the only thing you fell in love with was the chemical composition.
Fin
😭 😭 😭 I CANT WITH THIS GUY. I FEEL LIKE HE'S SOMEONE WHO'D GIFT YOU A BOMB CUZ HE LOVES YOU.
Some of the ingredients used r actually toxic while others r just bs. I tried making it as Canon as possible but I'm sure there r some mistakes. Sorry abt tht.
Anyway! Hope you enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts.
I can read smut just fine but I can't for the death of me write abt it. Not cuz it's embarrassing, but because I usually act out what I'll write before actually writing it.
Which is why I can't write smut.
LIKE, I CAN'T IMAGINE MYSELF BEING RAILED BY SOME RANDOM MAN FROM THE BACK- PLEASE 😭🙏
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Summary : In which, you discover your 'husband' has given birth. Even worse, the baby looks exactly like him.
Warning : Mpreg? 💀 Idk man (it's a joke, ntg weird) Mentions of sex.
Phainon X Reader
You sat on the metal seat, face in your palms as the harsh hospital lights glared overhead.
The atmosphere was grim, with the scent of blood and medicine and decaying flesh.
Your hair was a mess, eyes red and tired as you stared at the blue floor from between your fingers.
The nurses passing nearby gave you a understanding sympathetic glance, before returning to their posts.
Your friends stood anxiously near you, whispering among themselves.
Castorice approached you, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "It will be fine (Y/N)."
Tribbie nodded vigorously. "Doctors said he’s stable. Don't worry! It will be over soon."
You nodded solemnly.
Although...
You had no fucking clue what was going on.
One moment you were on your bed, eyes closed, and the next you found yourself inside a random hospital.
You were on the verge of losing your god-damn mind. The suspicious lack of context and the absence of your dear boyfriend was slowly eating at your sanity.
You didn't know who was injured.
You didn't know who was sick.
You didn't even know why you were crying.
But everyone else looked worried, so you figured it was probably important.
After what felt like eternity, the hospital door finally opened. A tall doctor stepped out. He had a mask covering his mouth and a cap on his head, but you could faintly make out the blue in his hair.
Huh. He kinda looked like your old university professor.
The doctor pulled his mask down, a bored look on his face. "Congratulations. Your husband is perfectly fine."
.... Huh?
The hallway erupted into cheers.
Some of your friends sighed in relief, others cried in joy.
You blinked. Staring at the doctor in confusion.
"... What?"
The doctor continued.
"The delivery was successful."
The what?
Delivery? Delivery of what...?
Surely-
Before you could process reality, your friends were already ushering you inside.
Too confused to protest, you stumbled in. And immediately froze. The door behind you shut close dramatically.
Dead center was your husband. Laying on a bed. Pale, exhausted and a little sweaty.
His eyes were pulled half shut, dark circles etched into his skin.
When he heard the door open, he turned his head weakly.
His usual styled blue hair now looked unkempt, his normal ugly clothes replaced with the white hospital dress.
No.
No fucking way.
You half believed that your friends were pulling a prank on you. You thought there would be some camera waiting to record your reaction.
Yet, you were met with none other than Phainon himself.
Who was apparently now your fucking husband???
Yes, you did remember that you were dating him... But marriage? That memory was nonexistent in your mind.
Just as you were about to process the scene, you noticed a crib near him.
You blinked.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The crib remained.
Your alleged husband smiled faintly. "Hey darling." his voice sounded hoarse.
Your eyes slowly lowered.
Then lowered further.
Then lowered even further to his stomach.
It was round and stretched.
....
Your husband had given birth.
....
What. The. Fuck.
Phainon reached over, gently and lovingly picking up the bundled child. A soft smile on his lips. "Come, look at our child (Y/N)."
You wanted to vomit.
That sentence was truly revolting to hear.
However, you approached him. No matter what, Phainon was still someone you dearly loved. (even if he miraculously gave birth)
You turned to to gaze at the child, trying to hide your obvious disgust.
Honestly, where would the child even come out from? Unlike women, men had no such way to push out a litteral baby.
Would it come out from the back?? Or even worse, fly out the tip or something??
You mentally groaned as you pulled down the fabric covering the baby. And suddenly felt deeply offended.
The baby looked exactly like him.
Not a little. Not somewhat.
Exactly.
Like someone had photocopied his face and shrunk it down.
Like, Ctrl + C and Ctrl + V type identical.
Same nose. Same eyes. Same hair. Same tired expression. It looked like even the baby had gone through 72 hours of pure horror.
You scoffed, pressing a finger towards the child's plump cheeks. "Why does it look exactly like you?"
Phainon took it as a compliment, his smile widening. "I know right?"
You snapped "That is not an answer!"
The baby blinked at you. Judging you.
How dare it! You were it's father... Mother? Er... Parent!
You pointed at the monstrosity. "Where are my genes?"
Your husband shrugged. "I carried it for nine months."
The casualness of the words was enough to make you pause. You gripped the railing, a maniac smile on your lips.
Guess you were a fucking parent now! Congratulations (Y/N).
You were 10 seconds to pleading insanity, when Phainon cradled the child in his arms, humming softly to lull it to sleep.
None of this made sense!
Men were NOT supposed to give birth according to science! But, apparently science threw itself out the fucking window cuz the living proof of it being possible was in front of you.
The baby sneezed, interrupting your thoughts.
And somehow even that sounded like your husband.
You immediately fainted.
You woke up with a start, chest rising and falling in pure panic.
The ceiling now felt familiar. It was not the one you saw in the hospital, but a ceiling that you woke up to every morning.
The bed was normal, purple in color, just the way your boyfriend liked it.
Speaking of the man, you immediately turned to your side, half expecting him to be holding a child in his arms.
But what met your eyes was the serene face of the blue haired boy, a pure white blanket covering his naked body.
His hair was messy. Face buried in the pillow.
Peaceful and alive.
Still male.
(Hopefully)
Without wasting another second, you yanked the covers down. You didn't care if he had no clothes on, or that he was currently sleeping. Confirming he was YOUR NORMAL boyfriend was more important!
As the cold air hit Phainon's skin, he stirred, letting out a soft, sleepy hum. "What....is it... darling...?"
You ignored him. Your eyes locking onto his stomach.
It was flat. No baby bump. No signs of childbirth.
Nothing.
You released the biggest sigh of relief in human history.
Your boyfriend groggily sat up on the mattress. "What are you doing?" he rubbed his eyes.
You stared at him blankly. "You gave birth."
"Oh, I see-" he froze. Then looked around for the said child. "I gave what?"
"Birth."
"Me?"
"Yeah. We had a child."
"....Sorry honey, but what the fuck?"
Ten minutes later, after hearing the entire story, Phainon was laughing so hard he nearly fell off the bed.
You huffed in embarrassment, rolling your eyes at his dramatic display. "It's not that funny, god."
"Oh, it absolutely is." he cupped your cheeks, pressing a sweet kiss on your lips. "I can't believe you dreamed of me giving birth. Is this one of your kinks babe?"
You pushed his body off you. "Of course not! I don't even know why I would think of such a.....vile concept!"
He stared at you affectionately before realisation dawned on his face. "Oh! I think I might know."
You narrowed your eyes, silently telling him to continue.
"It's probably because of what you said yesterday." he snapped his fingers.
You were a bit confused. You remembered nothing of last night except getting on top of him and kissing him senseless. "What did I say?"
Phainon barely surpresed his laughter, shoulders shaking as he took a moment to build suspence.
Finally, he managed to speak. "When we were having wonderful sex last night, you looked at me dead in the eye and said...."
He cleared his throat, voice changing to mimic your pitch.
"'I am gonna fuck you so hard that by the end of the night you'll end up pregnant!' "
Silence.
You didn't speak. Or move. You simply stared.
You felt your soul leave your body.
Of course. Of course your dumbass would say something as horrifying as that, thinking it would sound ✨ romantic✨ .
Your boyfriend immediately burst into laughter again. This time, it was you who buried your face in a pillow.
"I hate you so much Phainon." you groaned, pulling the blanket over your body.
"As if~" he grinned, hands reaching up to the covers and harshly pulling it back down. "You want me pregnant after all."
"Phainoooon!" you whined as you threw the pillow at his face. He caught it with ease, leaning down towards your body and pressing his lips on yours to shut you up.
Your glared at him. "...You are never letting this go, are you?"
"Nope!" he smiled.
And from that day onward, you learned a valuable lesson.
Never. Ever.
Talk trash with absolute confidence in the middle of sex.
Because your subconscious is petty.
And apparently a teenage girl who writes Omegaverse fanfics.
........
............
Well. It's something? And no, I do not have Mpreg fantasies.
Summary : In which, Lohen drunkenly reveals he’s already married. (much to the knights shock) And thus starts a frantic investigation to uncover the identity of his mysterious wife.
Lohen X Reader
Warning : Masochism?
The tavern was silent.
Not completely silent, someone in the back was still attempting to sing an ancient ballad with the confidence of a dying goat, mugs still slammed against tables, the fire still cracked faintly... but silent enough that every knight slowly turned toward the vice-captain.
Lohen, the one man crazy enough to be feared by his own men. The man rumored to have once stared at an enemy commander until the poor bastard surrendered voluntarily.
A natural disaster bathed in human flesh. A weapon that learned how to breathe.
Currently was collapsed face-first onto the table with one arm hanging limply off the side.
Drunk beyond reason.
"... Wish my wife was here." he slurred into the wood, strands of his hair falling over his flushed face.
The entire table froze.
"…your what?" one knight asked carefully.
Lohen lifted his head just enough to glare at them with offended exhaustion.
"My wife." he repeated, slower this time. Almost reverent, as though the word itself tasted familiar on his tongue.
Then, as if that single admission had cost him everything he had left, he let his head fall back down again.
Nobody moved for a moment. Even the Grand Master Varka seemed to have sobered up from the sudden confession.
Then the whole tavern erupted into surprised screams.
"THE VICE-CAPTAIN IS MARRIED?!"
The investigation began immediately. Because this was catastrophic information.
First of all, the Vice Captain had never mentioned a wife before.
Which led to the second issue. None of them could even imagine a woman willing to marry him voluntarily.
This was a man who once smiled during a battle against a ruin guard. A man who described battlefields as 'refreshing.' A man who once broke an interrogation chair because the prisoner was 'taking too long.'
And yet, somewhere in the kingdom existed a woman who apparently looked at this terrifying creature and thought,
'Yes. I want that one forever.'
It was unbelievable!
The knights first approached the grandmaster for information.
He only exhaled, rubbing a hand down his face. "I have no clue. That was the first time I’ve ever heard him say it. "
He was about to continue, but froze when he saw the scheming looks on his subordinates faces.
"You are not spying on the vice-captain." he warned flatly.
They spied on the vice-captain.
Three days later, six fully armed royal knights crouched horribly behind bushes near a small house at the edge of town.
The hiding was atrocious.
One man was still wearing polished silver armor directly beneath the afternoon sun. Another had somehow gotten his cape caught on a tree branch ten minutes ago and was suffering in silence because nobody dared stand up to help him.
None of them were trained for espionage. Especially not against their vice-captain.
Lohen had entered twenty minutes earlier carrying grocery bags.
Grocery bags.
It was a horrible sight. The image alone had permanently damaged their ability to fear him correctly.
"He was smiling while looking at the carrots." one shuddered as he remembered the memory.
"The apples were the scariest. I still remember he made me do shooting practice with them!"
The men stared into the distance, rethinking every interaction with the vice captain when a sudden crash erupted from the house in front.
The entire group jolted violently.
"What was that?!"
A loud bang followed by another heavy THUD that rattled the windows rang.
One of the younger soldiers immediately grabbed the man beside him by the shoulders, eyes wide with panic. "She’s killing him!"
"No," another whispered reverently. "She’s... winning."
They seemed like they were on the verge of tears.
Inside however, you were laughing.
A chair had toppled somewhere behind you during the struggle, scraping loudly across the floor as you leaned over the table with a victorious grin, pinning your husband beneath you with both wrists trapped in your hands.
To anyone else it would have been a shocking scene. To you, it was just Tuesday with Lohen.
"Darling," you mused, pressing a kiss on Lohen's cheek. "I told you to bring potatoes, riiight?"
Lohen looked up at you without the slightest trace of remorse. "Did you? Must’ve slipped my mind."
You narrowed your eyes immediately, tightening your grip around his wrists. "Lohen."
His smile only widened.
"I distinctly remember warning you," you continued, voice dripping with amusement, "that if you forgot something again, I’d have to punish you."
"My wife is truly terrifying," he sighed dreamily, sounding far too delighted about that fact.
You scoffed, unable to stop yourself from laughing softly under your breath.
Sometimes you genuinely wondered if he provoked you on purpose simply because he enjoyed being handled like this.
Rolling your eyes, you finally loosened your grip, intending to let him up. But before you could pull your hands away, Lohen caught them.
Slowly, he guided your palms back against his chest, pressing them there until you could feel the steady thud of his heartbeat beneath your fingers. "... What about my punishment?"
"You -" you started.
"Come on," he murmured softly. "I’m waiting."
His fingers slid lazily along your arm, before he tugged you forward.
You stumbled against the table with a startled laugh, and he met you halfway, kissing you before another word could leave your mouth.
Outside, the knights heard nothing except another loud noise and became increasingly convinced you were the only human alive capable of defeating him.
They waited outside for nearly an hour, determined to finally glimpse at the mysterious wife.
But when the front door opened again, it was Lohen who stepped out.
The entire group froze.
His gaze swept calmly across the yard before stopping directly on the bushes they were hiding behind.
A terrible silence followed.
Then, very slowly, Lohen spoke. "...You are loud. Shut up."
The knights felt their souls briefly leave their bodies. One man immediately started praying under his breath. Another simply collapsed face-first into the grass as if accepting death in advance.
Lohen stared at the bushes with visible disappointment, as though deeply offended that these were somehow Mondstadt finest soldiers.
From inside the house, your voice called out. "Lohen! Help me with the dishes please!"
Instantly, the stern expression on his face melted. The transformation was genuinely horrifying.
"Yeah," he answered, voice gentler than any of them had ever heard before. "Coming."
He turned back to the doorway, but paused before glancing at the bushes.
The warmth disappeared instantly. "Leave," he said flatly. "Before I bury you here."
The knights did not need to be told twice. They fled immediately.
The next day, they approached you while Lohen was away on official business. You were in the marketplace buying vegetables when six grown knights appeared around you.
"…can I help you?" you asked slowly, holding a bundle of carrots mid-air.
The eldest knight bowed immediately. "Madam."
The others followed suit, slightly less coordinated, as though none of them had practiced basic human interaction before.
"We merely wish to understand…" another began carefully.
The youngest one finished. "How did you tame the vice-captain!?"
You blinked, smiling awkwardly at the suddenness of the question. "Tame?"
Another knight chimed in. "Yeah! We heard you defeat him yesterday!"
Your grip on the carrots loosened slightly. "Yesterday, I-"
"We were near your house! We heard EVERYTHING!"
A faint heat crept up your face. You were not fighting with him that day, in fact you were doing...something else entirely. "Oh well, that was not-"
"PLEASE TEACH US!"
Somehow, one thing had led to another, and now you were standing in the center of the training grounds with a sword in your hands.
You were fairly certain this was not how your morning was supposed to go.
Yet, the training grounds became utterly packed. Word spread through the city in under an hour.
'The vice-captain’s mysterious wife is going to duel him.'
Knights climbed fences. Servants placed bets. Someone sold pastries as though this were an official festival.
Varka stood at the sidelines with the expression of a man trying very hard not to encourage this while also clearly enjoying it.
Then, finally, Lohen entered.
The crowd immediately fell silent.
He had just returned from a mission, blood smeared across his coat. And seeing you standing in front of him with a sword in hand was a sight he had not expected.
"...Why are you holding a weapon?"
"Your subordinates asked me to duel you." you smiled brightly, swinging the sword to show off your non-existent skills.
He stared at you. Then turned his head slightly toward the gathered knights.
"…After this is over," he said calmly, voice almost pleasant, "you are all dead."
The knights immediately looked anywhere except at him.
The duel began.
Or rather, you attacked while Lohen simply existed.
The crowd watched in growing disbelief as the kingdom’s most terrifying warrior lazily parried your strikes while staring at you like a man witnessing divine revelation.
Every strike you made was reckless with confidence, mimicking the techniques you had once watched him perform with terrifying grace. You knew he would never let you fall.
And he never did.
Whenever your footing slipped against the dirt, his hand was already there at your waist or your arm, steadying you before you could stumble.
His touch lingered just long enough for him to guide your body back into balance before allowing you another hit against him—as though the duel existed solely to indulge you.
The Vice Captain wasn't even trying. Every lazy parry carried restraint. Every blocked strike looked suspiciously gentle. The knights watching from the sidelines began exchanging horrified glances as realization dawned upon them.
Their vice-captain was not losing because you were stronger.
He was losing because he adored you.
Then you moved suddenly.
Your foot swept behind his ankle, your body twisting with sharp precision, and before anyone could react, Lohen crashed onto his back with enough force to shake the dirt beneath him.
You planted your foot against his chest, pinning him down as your sword tilted beneath his chin, gleaming beneath the sunlight.
"You lose, Lohen."
The arena exploded behind you, people screamed, some clapped, some threw their helmets to the sky after seeing someone beating the most feared warrior.
But Lohen heard none of it. Not when you stood above him like this.
The sun framed you in gold, wind tangling through your hair as you smiled down at him with triumphant amusement. His heartbeat pounded violently beneath your foot, and to his own embarrassment, he realized this might genuinely be the happiest moment of his miserable life.
His gloved hand slid slowly around your ankle. Not to move you, but simply to touch.
His thumb brushed against the fabric gathered near your calf before trailing higher in a teasing stroke that made your breath hitch.
"We should do this often..." he muttered.
You tried to pull your leg away, but his grip only tightened slightly, trapping you there with infuriating ease.
His gaze dropped lazily to the foot pressing against his chest, "I think," he said, voice rough with laughter and something warmer, "I just discovered I enjoy being humiliated by my wife."
You snorted, tilting his chin back slightly with your foot. "You are so weird, Lohen."
Still, you indulged him. Because no matter how ridiculous he was, no matter how utterly hopelessly devoted he became around you...
you never got tired of him either.
His grin softened at your insult. "And yet, you married me anyway."
Unfortunately, that was true.
Sensing the sudden romantic atmosphere, the crowd slowly dispersed.
Knowing if anyone interrupted whatever deeply concerning moment this had become, Lohen would happily gouge their eyes out for witnessing it.
And from that day onward, the knights accepted two undeniable truths.
First, Vice-Captain Lohen was catastrophically and humiliatingly in love with his wife.
And worse....
She was somehow even more dangerous than he was.
Fin
ANOTHER LOHEN FIC CUZ HE'S RELEASING SOON!!
We don't know Lohen's age but I do believe he is older than 20. Obviously they aren't married in this, but it's just that Lohen wants to call her his wife. So all this is just a misunderstanding from the knights part 😝
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The Greatest Psychic Of The 21st Century Vs. That One Bastard!
Summary : In which, a self-proclaimed psychic who can hear everyone’s thoughts is driven insane by the one boy she can’t read at all.
Phainon X Reader
You always thought most people were unbearably loud.
Not physically.
Mentally.
Their thoughts scraped against your skull from morning to night like badly tuned radios.
'Did I leave the stove on?'
'She’s prettier than me.'
'God, I hate this class.'
'I should text him first.'
Thoughts spilled out of people so carelessly. So messily. And after years of hearing them, you had come to one undeniable conclusion:
Most people were idiots.
You, however, were not.
You smiled sweetly at others. Spoke softly. Pretended to be humble.
But internally?
You considered yourself vastly superior.
The ever spectacular, the greatest psychic of the 21st century! the chosen one of this world!
Because while everyone stumbled through life blindly, you saw everything.
You knew who secretly hated each other. Who lied. Who loved. Who cheated. Who stared at your face while thinking things embarrassing enough to make you want to disinfect yourself afterward.
It was almost boring. Even gossips never seemed to entertain you.
Until him.
That bastard.
Phainon.
"You're spacing out again (Y/N)." a warm voice coaxed you out of your thoughts.
You raised your head. And there he was.
The boy who had been the source of all your annoyances for the past 10 years.
He leaned slightly into your desk with that stupidly gentle smile. "Good morning sleeping beauty," he grinned like an enthusiastic puppy, or perhaps a scheming deviant. "You look like shit btw."
Your smile twitched.
Nothing.
Not a single thought.
"I look fine." you muttered, although your fingers rose up to your hair, picking on the strands.
"Ehhh? Lying to yourself is no good (Y/N)."
This brat.
How dare a commoner like him act so rudely? If he were normal, you would have already taught him a lesson.
Unfortunately, he was an exception to your power.
Normally, people’s thoughts grew louder the closer they stood to you.
But him?
Silence.
An endless, infuriating black void of nothing.
No static. No fragments. No emotion.
And you hated it.
Absolutely hated it.
Phainon tilted his head at your obvious discomfort. "You look sick?"
You tried prying into his brain once again.
Nothing.
Either he was immune to your power or just didn't have a single thought in his miniscule brain.
"I'm absolutely fine." you glared at him.
He simply smiled.
God. How you hated him.
"I’m a psychic."
The table went silent at your confession.
The cafeteria was bustling with noise, but at the lone table where you sat, your three friends stared at you in confusion.
Castorice was the first one to break the silence. "That's wonderful!" she beamed.
"HAH? YOU BELIEVE HER???" Cipher, who was sitting beside the purple haired girl seemed flabbergasted at the stupidity.
Mydei simply lowered his drink, blinking in exhaustion.
"I can read minds," you continued seriously, hands folded near your chin. "Everyone’s."
Castorice gasped softly. "That sounds so convenient."
"It’s not." You frowned deeply. "Especially because there’s ONE person whose thoughts I can’t read at all."
Your hand slammed onto the table, the poor thing almost caving because of your rage.
"Phainon. That smug asshole."
"He'd cry if he heard you..." Mydei muttered to himself before sighing. "Why do you wanna read his mind that badly anyway?"
"I don't," you leaned back on your chair. "That's not the issue."
"Then what is?"
"The issue is I can't!" you slammed your fist on the table again, this time leaving a dent.
Cipher groaned, grabbing her plate and putting it on her lap instead.
"... You know," Mydei muttered slowly, "it’s actually pretty obvious what he’s thinking if you just look at his face."
You blinked.
"…What? That's not possible. Are you stupid?" you looked at him like he had said the earth was somehow flat.
The other three stared back.
A slow realization creeped up Mydei's thoughts. 'Oh. She's stupid.'
"I JUST TOLD YOU I CAN READ YOUR MIND ASSHOLE!" You yelled, almost wanting to throw something at him.
"Now, now," Castorice laughed nervously. "Maybe you can't do it because there’s no physical contact! "
You frowned. "Physical contact?"
"In many stories," she explained excitedly, "sometimes powers only work after direct contact."
"Oh, but I have touched him plenty" you tilted your head.
".... What?"
"His hand. His neck. His waist." You counted absentmindedly. "His leg too, I think."
Dead silence again.
"Jeez," Cipher looked away. "and they still haven't got together..."
"And I still can’t read his mind," you finished irritably, ignoring the cat girl.
The three of them looked at you like you were clinically insane.
Then Castorice snapped her fingers. "A kiss!"
You froze. "… A what?"
"In romance stories," she explained seriously, her eyes sparkling with a strange kind of interest. "sometimes lip contact establishes the final connection."
You stared at her.
The idea sounded strangely reasonable.
"…I see."
"That's so stupid-"
Mydei's words drowned as you thought about how you'd go about the plan of kissing Phainon.
The classroom glowed gold beneath the setting sun. Dust floated lazily through warm light.
And across from you, Phainon kept talking.
You weren’t listening. Not really.
Your fingers dug harshly into your palm beneath the desk.
A kiss.
Kiss.
Kiss. Him.
At the time, it had sounded logical.
Now?
Now you felt insane.
How does a kiss establish contact anyway?? What kind of deranged romance logic was that??
The only thing this stupid 'logic' was doing, was turning your thoughts wild.
Your heart thumped nervously in your chest as you imagined it.
'His lips... Near mine...' heat crawled up your neck as the scene played in your head like a cheap romance movie.
You dared to lift your eyes. Your gaze caught on his mouth almost instantly.
On the way his lips shaped each word, parting and closing with an unhurried confidence that felt far too deliberate to ignore.
It was distracting in a way that made your mind wander.
And then he wet his lips.
A slow, absent motion of his tongue, like he had no idea what he was doing to you.
You looked away too quickly, suddenly aware of your own breathing.
'WHAT AM I THINKING??? I MUST HAVE A FEVER! A FEVER I TELL YOU-!'
"Hey."
You flinched violently when you felt Phainon's hand suddenly covering yours.
"You were scratching yourself," he said softly. "I got worried."
He leaned closer. Then gently pressed the back of his hand against your forehead.
Your entire body locked up.
"…You’re not hot," he murmured. "No fever."
His hand retreated. And your fingers immediately touched the spot where they had previously been.
You gulped.
Your gaze dropped back to his lips again.
Without realizing it, your thumb brushed lightly over your own mouth. Your nails pulling on the pink flesh before letting it go.
"Hey, do you wanna kiss?"
You said it before you even realized it.
You froze.
What. Why did you say that?
Silence seemed to surround you in that moment. You opened your moment quickly to deflect, to laugh...to do anything!
But before you could do any of the above, the boy in front of you leaned closer.
And kissed you.
Kissed. You.
Your eyes widened at the sensation. He was all over your vision, in fact he was the only thing in your vision.
The strands of his pale blue hair hid his expression, but the way his ears turned red was a sure sign that he was embarrassed.
By the time he pulled away, you were frozen solid.
He laughed lightly, rubbing the back of his neck.
"That kinda came out of nowhere," he admitted. "But if you insist, I’m more than willing."
You stared at him. For the first time in your life you were rendered speechless.
Yet, you still heard nothing from his mind.
If you could just read his mind, maybe you would have never felt so lost. So confused on what he meant. On what he felt.
"You....CREEP!" you immediately got up, pointing a shaky finger at him, face flushed.
You turned before he could say anything, rushing to the door to escape.
Behind you, you could hear him laughing mockingly at your sudden retreat.
Beyond humiliated you decided to just leave him there to rot.
Unfortunatly for you, he was persistent.
You heard him scrambling behind you, grabbing your bag before chasing after you down the hallway.
"You can’t just ask someone to kiss you and then run away you know!" he called out, amusement clear in his voice.
"You shouldn’t have done it without warning!?"
"How was I supposed to know you were joking?!"
You refused to reply.
You heard footsteps approach you rapidly. Usually, you would have figured out who, what and why the footsteps treaded so closely to your space.
But unlike everyone else, you never sensed Phainon coming.
Because you couldn’t hear him.
And so you turned sharply, ready to give him a piece of your min-
He kissed you again.
This time pulling back with a grin.
"There, now we are even."
Oh.
This is what punishment must feel like. Your heart was beating wildly in your chest, you were sure that you were dying.
You gulped, raising your hands to cover your face. But Phainon never let you.
He caught your wrist before you could hide.
"Wait, before you go all pouty on me..." he smiled, stepping even closer. "Tell me why'd you ask me to kiss you?"
"…I wanted to check something." your voice was uncharacteristically soft.
"Aw man," he sighed all too dramatically. "I thought maybe you liked me."
"I don't."
His eyes narrowed at your lie, a suspicious expression on his face. "Yeah?"
His hands left your wrist, one rested on your hip and the other reached up to your neck. His fingers drew aimless circles on your collarbone, watching the way you shivered.
"Your face right now is making me think otherwise."
You opened your mouth.
No sound came out.
His smile softened.
This time when his lips inched closer, he paused. He was giving you time to stop him, to push him away if you wished.
But you did no such thing.
So he took the opportunity you presented and kissed you. Almost slowly. As if he was savoring the taste of you.
This time....it was your mind that went blank.
Extra:
You actually could read his mind.
Just not the way you thought.
Whenever he was far away, you could hear faint fragments.
'What's for lunch today?'
'(Y/N) is so pre-.'
'Should I wear my purple shirt tomorrow? Bet I'll look handsome.'
Small things.
But the moment his attention shifted fully toward you...Silence.
Not because his mind was shielded. Or that he was a rare human immune to your powers.
But because every thought he had simply stopped.
His complete focus, complete attention was all yours to take.
Because to him, the moment he looked at you, nothing else in the world existed strongly enough to think about.
Only you and your voice was all he cared about.
Fin
If anyone got the Mob Psycho reference from the tile I'll actually be so happy. Reigen, the absolute love of my life ❤️
I wanted to write something funny for Phainon (cuz I'm not that cruel) SO HERE WE ARE!
HOPE YOU ENJOYED! LET ME KNOW YR THOUGHTS ❤️
(I tried a lot but I can't seem to find the artist of the Phainon Pic... If any1 knows pls do let me know 😭)
Summary : In which you reunite with the boy who abandoned you years ago.
Warning : Mentions of sex
"Let's break up."
The first time he said it, you just laughed.
Not because it was funny, but because the mere idea of it felt unbelievable.
The fire cracker in your hands burned brightly, creeping closer to your skin. You stared at your boyfriend, the festival lights illuminating his ethereal figure. Somewhere far away children laughed, a mother scolded her son and a couple kissed underneath the starry sky.
"Let's break up." he repeated.
You blinked.
The spark burned too close to your skin.
You flinched and dropped the firecracker immediately, watching it spin violently on the pavement before exploding into tiny bursts of light near your sandals.
"What?"
He looked pale.
Too pale for summer.
You forced out a laugh, rubbing your fingers together nervously. "Oh my god, seriously? I’ve seen this trend online." You pointed at him accusingly, trying to force a smile.
"Boyfriends pretending to break up with their girlfriends to see them cry? That’s actually evil."
He didn't say anything.
"... Phainon?" you searched his eyes.
"I want to break up." he said it again.
Your heart dropped.
And somewhere a single green leave fell from an already withering tree.
You woke up with a groan. The night has still not ended, the distant hum of the city rang loudly in your ears.
That dream again.
You hated it.
The fireworks. The moment before it exploded.
The ceiling above your apartment was drenched in moonlight.
You pressed your palms over your eyes.
Five years.
Five years and your body still remembered him before your mind did.
You hated that too.
You stepped out of your bed, grabbing your phone from the corner table.
You knew that you wouldn't be able to sleep again. You opened a random app, drowning in the artificial light. Watching random short bursts of video's until your mind stopped thinking.
By the time you arrived at work, your exhaustion sat beneath your eyes like bruises.
The office bathroom smelled faintly of hand soap and powder foundation. You stood at the sink washing your hands while your coworker touched up her lipstick beside you.
"You should buy better makeup," she said casually.
You looked over. "Hm?"
"The redness under your eyes." She capped her lipstick. "No one wants to see a depressed person first thing in the morning."
She laughed lightly afterward, as if that softened it. Then she walked out.
The bathroom fell silent.
You looked at yourself in the mirror.
Really looked.
The spots on your skin, the bags underneath your eyes... The peeling skin on your lips.
Oh.
You looked ugly.
You grabbed the purse you carried with you and snapped open the powder box.
"I am soo sorry!" you laughed breathlessly as you walked towards a table in the tiny restaurant.
"You’re late." your friend Mydei simply folded his hands.
"I know, I know," you put your hands together in an apology. "Traffic was horrible and my manager wouldn’t stop—"
You froze.
You could recognize that hair anywhere.
Your friend sat at the booth, eyebrow raised.
And beside him...
Was Phainon.
The same eyes. The same quiet posture.
He looked older now. Features sharpened, hair slightly longer.
But still him.
Phainon looked just as shocked.
For a long moment, nobody spoke.
Then Mydei leaned forward on the table, pretending to act unsuspecting. "Oh that's Phainon. He tagged along because he was free."
You couldn’t breathe.
You sat down anyway.
Hours passed like slow torture.
Voices blurred around you. Glasses clinked. Mydei talked about work drama and mutual acquaintances and vacations.
You nodded when expected.
Smiled when required.
But every second felt suffocating.
You could feel Phainon's eyes trailing over your your fingers as they trembled near your drink.
Could feel him watching you zone out.
Eventually, you stood too quickly. "I’m going to the washroom."
Mydei kept quiet. Not speaking a word until you were out the door.
Then, "Aren't you gonna follow her?"
He had just finished speaking when he heard the chair beside him being dragged back.
You didn’t go to the washroom. You stepped outside instead.
The summer night wrapped around you, heavy and humid. Your cigarette trembled slightly between your fingers as you inhaled.
'One star.'
'Two stars.'
'Three.'
You counted them quietly because it helped. Because numbers felt easier than memories.
The restaurant door opened behind you. You didn't even bother glancing to check who it was.
You felt a presence beside you. Close enough to be annoying, far enough to never be held.
"Are you still mad at me?" he asked.
You laughed once, you guessed. You didn't remember what you said.
Smoke curled from your mouth into the night air.
He kept staring downward. As if he wasn't allowed to gaze at you.
"You grew up well," he murmured. "You look pretty."
Something vicious twisted inside your chest.
Liar. You looked terrible.
Oh, how you wanted to shove the cigarette into his mouth.
You wanted to scream.
You wanted to cry.
You wanted him dead.
"Stop talking Phainon."
His fingers curled slightly at his sides. "I just wanted to—"
"I said stop." Your voice cracked.
Finally you turned toward him fully, years of grief tearing open all at once.
"You don’t get to do this," you snapped. "You don’t get to suddenly appear again and try to apologize."
He stayed silent.
Always silent.
He never talked back.
"I thought I did something wrong," you choked out. "For years."
Still listening.
"I kept thinking if I was prettier or calmer or less emotional maybe you would’ve stayed! Maybe... You..."
His eyes shut briefly.
"And now you stand here acting like nothing happened?"
"I'm sorry (Y/N)."
He finally looked at you then.
And for the first time that night, you realized he looked exhausted too.
Not just tired.
Dying.
But anger swallowed the observation before it could fully form.
"I hated you," you whispered.
His eyes widened before closing into a bitter smile.
"I know," he said.
And somehow that hurt worse.
You don't know how it happened.
You never meant for it to happen.
The kissing started angry.
It was revenge.
One trying to wound. The other accepting it like salvation.
The second the apartment door shut behind you, he grabbed your face and kissed you hard enough to make you stumble backward.
Years collapsed instantly.
Your fingers tangled desperately into his shirt as if muscle memory had been waiting all this time for him to come back.
His fingers reached up your shirt, tracing the warmth of your skin as if he wanted to steal it and shove it down his throat.
You hated him.
You hated him.
You hated him.
So why did he still feel like home?
Clothes hit the floor piece by piece.
There was no romance in the air, only desperation.
Desperation for proof that the other was real.
Your matress dipped when he pushed your shoulders down, his knee over the edge.
His lips never left yours, rough wet sounds resounding through the lonely room you once cried in.
His hands shook while touching you.
He was memorizing you one last time.
To him this wasn't sex or lust or anything remotely revolting.
It was devotion.
It was grief.
It was longing.
And most of all...
It was farewell.
Long ago, the morning of a random Tuesday, Phainon found himself sitting on a black chair in the hospital.
It smelled disgusting.
Sterile. Cold.
The doctor kept talking but all he heard was,
"...... Cancer......I advice-"
The doctor continued.
'We don’t know how long.'
His ears rang violently.
He stared at the wall while the doctor explained treatment options and survival rates and percentages.
But none of it stayed.
Because only one thought existed in his mind.
Not, 'I’m going to die.'
Not, 'I’m scared.'
But..
'How do I leave her?'
He distinctly remembered your voice from months earlier.
"What would you do if we ever broke up?" he had asked simply.
You had looked horrified immediately.
"Don’t joke about that," you said seriously, curling against his side. "I’d actually lose my mind."
You loved him too much.
And he loved you enough to become cruel.
So he chose hatred.
Because hatred survives easier than grief.
The next morning, you woke alone. Sunlight spilled weakly across empty sheets.
The spot beside you was still warm. You stared at it for a very long time.
Then touched it gently. As if he might still be there somehow.
But you already knew.
Of course he ran again. You guessed he would.
You called Mydei. He was as worried as you. No one knew where he went.
Your hand fell over the mattress, the phone slipping from your fingers.
The blanket over your naked body fell, pooling across your lap.
And so, the only thing he left for you were the fading marks on your skin. A temporary proof that you had once meant something to him.
But they too disappeared with time.
Phainon vanished after that night.
You never saw him again.
Yet, whenever your gaze turned to the stars, you silently hoped he would appear in front of you like a summer dream.
Alas, miracles don't exist.
And somewhere far away...
The last green leaf fell to the ground, leaving the tree bare.
Your summer came to an end.
Fin
😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭 😭
I love Phainon sm that I can't help but write about him. This idea came to me after I read the first of summers... Honestly Ik the plot is not related at all but yeah.
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Summary : In which Yanqing tries to set you up with Jing Yuan upon his request. (did NOT go according to plan)
Warning! : Broken table, a very exhausted teenager
"You should just marry my master (Y/N)." The young teen said casually while you were peacefully drinking your charmomile tea.
You spat the entire thing out before it even reached your throat.
"EUGH, GROSS!" Yanqing recoiled in horror, frantically wiping the few drops that had landed on his cheek. "Why would you AIM at ME??"
"WHA-?" You pointed at yourself between coughs. "I DIDN'T AIM?"
The master in question was none other than Jing Yuan himself.
The Divine Foresight.
The great general of the Xianzhou Luofu.
The man who commanded the Lightning Lord.
Yanqing’s teacher.
And unfortunately... also the man who had smiled at you once and caused you to replay that scene in your mind for three whole business days.
"I am NOT marrying him!" you snapped immediately, face burning in embarrassment.
Yanqing stared at you.
Then narrowed his eyes.
"That sounds exactly like something someone secretly in love would say."
You gasped so loudly nearby birds probably took flight.
"You are too young to even know what MARRIAGE is.”
Yanqing looked genuinely insulted.
"I know what marriage is," he scoffed. "It’s when two people are obsessed with each other and become annoying forever."
You gasped. The audacity of this boy.
Kids these days are so rude!
"Besides! " he pointed a finger at you. "You’re the one acting weird every time Master smiles at you."
"I do NOT act weird."
"You almost slipped when he waved at you."
You stammered "The floor... The floor was wet?!"
The boy did not look convinced. "Master waits for you like a dog."
"I do not believe that." you crossed your arms.
"He literally sits near the window when you’re late."
"That means nothing."
"He sighs dramatically."
"Still nothing."
"He starts saying things like, 'Perhaps she no longer enjoys my company.' "
You slammed your hands on the wooden table. "OK YOU LISTEN HERE! NO MATTER WHAT YOU SAY, I am NOT marrying that... that... smug, lazy, suspiciously attractive—”
In the heat of the moment you forgot to control your strength, and a loud cracking sound stopped you from speaking further.
Both of you slowly looked down.
The entire wooden table had split clean in half.
Tea cups tipped over dramatically.
One lonely peach rolled across the floor.
Yanqing stared at the destruction.
Then at you.
Then back at the destruction.
He looked around, eyes widened in panic." uhh.... You know what..."
Yanqing stood up so fast the chair nearly fell over. "Don’t marry him! Terrible idea! Horrible husband material actually! Super awful! Very old too!"
"He’s not even that old-"
"BYE!"
The boy bowed once out of pure survival instinct and immediately bolted from the room.
"YANQING!"
You sighed heavily once he disappeared, looking down at the ruined table.
"…Ah." You gently poked the cracked wood. "It's not as bad as I thought it would be-"
The entire table collapsed to prove you wrong.
Your hand slowly rose to cover your burning face.
"…I really didn’t mean it like that."
"So, did you ask her?" Jing Yuan leaned forward eagerly across his desk later that evening.
His eyes practically sparkled with anticipation.
Yanqing, meanwhile, looked like a war veteran recalling traumatic memories. "Uh... She gave a very... Intense reaction...?"
"So it's a yes?"
"It's probably a no."
"Aw, man" The mighty general of the Luofu slumped across his desk like the saddest man alive.
Honestly, if anyone walked in right now, they’d think he’d lost a war.
"We kissed and everything..." he muttered into the table mournfully. "Why won’t she admit she likes me?"
Yanqing blinked, taking a moment to process the absurd words.
"…We what?"
"AAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH" Yanqing covered his ears instantly. "I DON’T WANT TO KNOW!"
"We didn't, I did." Jing Yuan lifted his head proudly. "More than once, actually. Forty tw—"
"You don’t want the exact number?" the general stared.
"NO!"
"It was forty-two."
"MASTER?!"
Jing Yuan looked deeply offended. "You interrupted me before I could finish."
Yanqing made the sound of someone who was drowning and wishing to be drowned even deeper.
Then he turned around and sprinted out of the room for the second time that day.
Poor Yanqing.
Forced to suffer between two adults painfully in love with each other.
Neither of whom possessed even a single ounce of emotional honesty.
And unfortunately for him…
He would continue acting as their unwilling messenger for a very, very long time.
Fin
Stupid oblivious people r my fave ppl to write.
This was a short one but I hope you enjoyed! I usually don't write comedy cuz I ain't funny 💔💔
