Latest Posts by deaddmoth - Page 9

ALSO! anaxa Lc description

Im looking disrespectfully

no lube, no protection, all night, all day, from the kitchen door to the toilet seat, from the dining table to the bedroom, from the bathroom sink to the shower, from the front porch to the balcony, vertically, horizontally, quadratic, exponential, logarithmic, while I grasp for air, scream and huff, upside down on the floor, in the bed, on the couch, on the chair, being carried, against a wall, outside, in a train, on a plane, in a car, on the motorcycle, in the bed of a trunk, in a trampoline, in a bounce house, inside a pool, bent over, in the basement, against the window, having the most toe curling, toe clenching, back arching, legs shaking, fist clenching, muffled sounds, ear ringing, mouth drooling, nose drooling, ass clenching, nose sniffling, eye watering, can't take it anymore, legs divorcing and breaking in half, eye rolling, hip thrusting, earthquaking, fireworks, sheet gripping, knuckle cracking, jaw dropping, soul snatching, over stimulating, ovulating, vile, sloppy, heart wrenching, spine tingling, back breaking, atrocious, gushy, creamy, Beasley, devilishly, lip biting, gravity defying, nail biting, sweaty, feet kicking, mind blowing, body shivering, orgasmic, bone breaking, black hole cresting, devious, scrumptious, amazing, delightful, body numbing, can't walk, head nodding, volcano erupting, sweat rolling. Voice cracking, trembling, sheets soaked, hair drenched, skin peeling, pussy popping, back cuts, heavenly, devils tango, and still worth it.

bro made me use the forbidden copy paste but idc Give him to me🙏🙏🙏

my theories can wait let me simp first

//hsr leaks//

ANAXA NATION WAKE UP

someone on twitter is trying to claim that use of an em-dash is an indication of AI-generated writing because it’s “relatively rare” for actual humans to use it. skill issue

hi guys

*shows you Nori’s art*

by guys

I finally drew my baby Black Sapphire cookie 💜

I finally drew my baby Black Sapphire cookie 💜

Happy Valentine's Day <3

do we fw valentine's shmilk

anaxa renders - splash & trailer screenshot

render rules/tos:

reposts ok, if credited to @clowdywings

don't claim as yours

unless otherwise stated, personal & commercial use okay

more renders in my google drive

request renders in my discord server

On a romantic day, I draw romantic pictures

castorice scribble

Happy to see someone who thinks EXACTLY same as me, our theories seems to be almost same.

Im really excited to learn about him because holy shit he’s so cool

Anaxa(goras) drip marketing !!! lets disect !

(click images for higher clarity !!) (the first is the original splash image, the second is the version with my notes on it, the third is the caption that came with the image, and the last is a moodboard i made before his drip marketing that mainly contains my observations, some of his references, and some minor theories)

no leaks will be discussed, and i'd prefer it if none will be mentioned :) i'll start by talking about some of my own observations and then adding some observations i like that i've seen online

to get this out of the way: yes he does share a similar pose to alhaitham's splash art. it may be intentional, it may be unintentional, but the similarity to alhaitham's pose is not important to me rn. i'll discuss his pose later

full breakdown under the read more (trust me it was necessary)

caption: imma just say i love how much of an Asshat he is. i know for a fact it's gonna annoy a Lot of people but ive played these games before. ive seen these archetypes before. im gonna love him either way

one of the seven sages, the founder of one of the schools actually, and which is oh so coincidentally called nousporist. named seemingly after nous, which is not only a concept the real life anaxagoras talked plenty about, but also the name of one of the aeons.

we've known abt anaxa's connections to the nousporist school for a while (see image above) but we still don't really know what they do, yknow? each school of the grove has their own Thing but we dont really know what the nousporist (and nodist ig but theyre not that important rn) specialty is. (Although in bringing up the nodist school i find it interesting that we don't really know about both the oldest and youngest school of thought in the grove). i personally theorize that nousporist study things like the foundation of the universe, since the concept of nous was used to explain how chaotic matter was "ordered" into the proper universe (vast oversimplification but my point stands)

his rules might be respect things. as in he will respect you on some metric if you respect his rules (or if you are "lower" than him/not that close to him you must respect them?). essentially boundaries that are worded in a way that makes people wanna punt him in the face. maybe he just isn't comfortable with people he does not know too well calling him any shortened form of his name. and no one likes being interrupted while they speak lets be real. "silence is golden, remember that." referring to the person he is speaking to, yes, but he himself must believe it applies to him as well to some extent

"Demised scholar"...mildly upsetting considering the Implications. could be a metaphorical demise in the way his ideas have him "dead" to some people but honestly im pretty sure it has to do with the time loop/simulation theory thats very popular with ampho theorizing. theres speculation that he may know abt the "truth of amphoreus" and maybe the title of demised scholar makes me believe that this is to be his fate in a way ? this one is pure speculation

even the caption is ridiculing him. damn. also. "In a world full of lies, I am the only truth" sounds pretentious as hell but there ought to be some merit of truth to it. will get back to this later when i talk about the stuff others have observed

ALSO the question marks after the divine authority are odd and kinda sus. even if it signified that a character didn't have their coreflame, mydei didn't have any in his drip marketing, so chances are it can't be that.

anaxa himself: there isn't much rn that I personally observed with anaxa other than the fact that red gemstones feature a lot in his design and seem to play some significance to him in general. visually this makes sense (red is a good contrasting color for the blue-green color scheme he has going on) but lore-wise it probably means something. my two cents is that the red gems are related to nous in some way but those are my very Wild ramblings. also the pattern on his arm (the one hidden by his glove) looks the same as the pattern on the background. i saw someone say that it's the chrysos heir pattern but im not sure. also the blue flame coming out from his eye is very odd. i still hold onto those odin connections. will revisit later

midground: the splash art features six of the little green sprite ghost things. they may be a reference to the sages of the other schools of the grove because yknow theres six other schools and the head of each school is called a sage so we've got the whole gang in one splash but the explanation could be entirely different from what i suggest

the roots covering the bookshelves...im gonna be honest i didn't think there were book books in amphoreus before this just cause i didn't remember seeing any. i think the roots covering the bookshelves is a small peak at what the grove might look like in evernight state?

the background: THE GLASS IS CRACKED. his shadow is reflected onto the glass and there is a very prominent crack at the face of his shadow, specifically his eye. combine that with the odd flame that comes out of his eye, and im thinking there is absolutely a connection between that and the reason why and how he lost his eye. glass, mirrors, reflective surfaces, those are typically associated with the remembrance, so there again the glass cracking I feel connects to simulation theory

The translation of the secret message on his splash art is "The seeds you've sown are already sprouting" maybe any plans hes laid are already being set into motion. thats the most obvious way to interpret this imo

okay: again about the pose. this then moves on to other people's observations. on reddit it was pointed out that his pose has similarities with the most common design for The Fool tarot card. Anaxa was described as "The Foolish" in the golden epic trailer and the Fool tarot card is about new beginnings and is the first stage in the fool's journey

on twitter it was pointed out how anaxa's name graphic resembles nous. personally i think his connections to nous in general are Incredibly suspect bc. yknow. everything. gonna have to wait for the trailer ig until then

and also in general (not related to the splash art atp just me rambling) anaxa already has some natural vs artificial/mechanical themes if we add nous and cerces into the equation. the two deities of knowledge seem to manifest it/obtain it through different means (cerces' nature theming vs nous' mechanical nature) and anaxa seems to partake in both of those methods (stretch, but in the golden epic trailer there are diagrams of i think a cone and a sphere behind anaxa and those could be interpreted as either mathematics or blueprints. also anaxa uses a gun. in any fantasy setting a gun is the least nature-y weapon one could have). i think in general there's something interesting about the two contrasting themes of intelligence but if i tried elaborating on them further rn i...no.)

this is it for the most part esp since this is just his splash art. i might do this again when the trailer and livestream drops in...a bit :p

Anaxa fic part 2!

Take this as a Valentine's day gift!

As part of Aglaea's plan to slowly but surely get you two together was to get the help of the other Chrysos heirs, not only with the intentions of finally appease (or try to) Anaxagoras's jealousy, but also because with their combined efforts it would be way more easy to start trying to close the distance between you two without forcing you to be alone with him. It was perfect, or at least, at the time of just think about the plan, it was.

------

Phainon swears he is doing his best, because he is! He is doing his best so you and Anaxa can have a good time together.

The original plan was for him to be the third wheel, only using his presence so you could feel more comfortable with Anaxa, but Phainon forgot how even if his fellow Chrysos heir is a sage and has incredible wisdom in his hands, he is definitely not good when it comes to dates or have interactions not related to his job. And it's so painfully obvious that every time you try to make things more natural it ends up with you looking down, only to rise your gaze to look out at Phainon with pitiful puppy eyes asking for help.

And Phainon is trying, really hard, but it seems that you end up accidentally talking more with him rather with Anaxa, and the sage is definitely not having it. He knows it's not his fault, and Anaxa does too, but since he got feelings for you his jealousy seems to have grown and rose out of the sky and his logic and reason is down in the core of the earth when it comes to you.

And that's how we got here, with poor innocent Phainon between the two of you with in his right a girl lost and uncomfortable and on his left a man with a gaze so lethal he could kill a Titan by just looking at them.

He thought Anaxa's gazes were deadly before but it seems that somehow they got even worse, and he swears that if it wasn't because of you Anaxa's gun would be already on his head threatening to shoot.

Phainon it's internally crying, he just wants to help.

So in a desperate attempt to got you two to exchange more than a few words he decides to let you two alone, making up any excuse to leave for at least a few minutes.

He is glad that the death glare has lightly softened but in exchange he nows has to face the pure panic and desperate look in your eyes, begging him to not let you two alone.

"I'm sorry, my friend, this is for the best... " He thinks to himself before walking away.

-----

"Finally, some time alone. " Anaxa thinks to himself as he looks at Phainon's back. Then, his gaze goes back to you and how your eyes go back and forth between your hands and him.

He doesn't blame you for being nervous, until then he did nothing but put walls between you two and was also an absolute asshole to you, he is actually surprised you aren't openly rude to him as well. It's one thing that he likes about you, thought, he hopes you are not such a pushover to other people who are rude to you.

"I'll make sure she is treated well, if not, well... " His expression hardens lightly at the thought of people mistreating you, and it's already thinking of ways of how to get rid of those people who dared to even raise their voice at you.

After a short moment of silence he decides to start a conversation, it feels a little robotic and it's not the most friendly and extroverted one, but you are now looking at him and lucky he will get you to give him more than two whole sentences at once. Maybe, you would get comfortable enough to get you to make those jokes of yours again. He might not be the type of people who laughs loudly or makes excessive amounts of jokes, he is not a jester, but he would like you to be that comfortable with him so you can smile in his presence more often.

------

Phainon let's out a sight of relief when he sees the two of you finally have a proper conversation and finds himself smiling at the sight. It is not the most intimate or friendliest of conversations, but it's such an amazing improvement compared to previous attempts and it's definitely a good step to the right direction.

He can't wait to tell to the others what he is just witnessing, even though he knows that soon or later he has to go back and face Anaxa's cold gaze for interrupting his precious time with his beloved puppy.

------

Castorice is more than willing to help Anaxa on his attempts if winning her sister's heart. She isn't experienced in love at all, her power's don't slow her to be that close to someone and she has a hard time talking to people two. The only approach she had to love is thanks to the romance novels she read and thanks to her beloved friend, but she will still do her best to help.

So, to help Anaxa, she tells him every little thing she knows about you, what food you liked your favorite color, favorite book... There's not a single detail about you that Castorice doesn't hold dear to her heart, and Anaxa is taking notes. He is listening every single word out of her mouth, making sure he knows everything he would need to get closer to you.

He is already making strategies and making plans of how he could make his next move, studying Castorice's information in the same way he does his research, with a expression of pure focus and concentration. Castorice smiles at the sight, she is glad someone finally wants to make a move on you and making so much effort.

Of course she is aware of your and Anaxa's situation. As your closest confident, she was the first person to know the details and how it made you feel, but she believes people can change, she is seeing with her own two eyes how hard Anaxa is trying his best and even Aglaea is helping, so it surely can end well despite the rough start.

It might not be a perfect fairytale of romance or a perfect story like some books she read, but it's real and genuine, and that's what makes it special.

She hopes you can both be happy and have your happy ever after.

-------

Anaxa notices how you slowly start to deliver messages to him again. He knows it's Aglaea's, after all, you can't refuse her. It only takes a smile and her gentle tone to persuade you to do her a favor. And he also knows that, in your eyes, it would be worth it when you go back to receive her gratitude and softness. It makes him narrow his eyes in jealousy how you act like a child, eager to make their parents proud when it comes to her. Though, he must admit, the mental image of your happy smile at receiving such reward makes his lips want to curl.

It's thanks to this small opportunities that she gives him that he can put into use all of Castorice's information, and also a way to test his hypothesis and theories of how to act around you and his plans to win your heart. He has a whole note for all the things he had planed and he has even more notes of how you react with each interaction you have, pages after pages of details of how you react, every little gesture, improvement or dislike he notices.

If someone saw it, they would think he is actually making an experiment instead of courting his crush, but it's just the way he is, not even when it comes to love he stops being a scholar.

Is with each little interaction that he slowly starts to master his skills when it comes to your interactions, and with each passing day he is starting to learn how to distract you and make you slowly lose yourself into your conversations, successfully distracting you from the reason you came in the first place.

And he hopes soon enough you'll start visiting him on your own.

Love is new to him and even thought the way he approaches it it's too similar to of how a researcher investigates a new species, it doesn't make it less genuine, he can't give you an out of a fantasy love story but he can give you his heart and the most genuine of efforts. At his own unique and particular way of doing so.

--------

As usual, you find yourself walking towards Aglaea's place to meet her for a tea party, you make sure to do so every now and then, mostly for to check on each other and make sure the other is okay. And as usual, it started well, nothing out of the ordinary, until...

"Lover's day is nearing. " she comments with a calm smile. Of course you know it, couples all over the city are already planning what to do, meanwhile, single people cry out of loneliness.

You always bake some sweets for your friends, but Aglaea already knows it, so you just look at her lightly confused as you agree.

"Your sweets are lovely, I look forward for them every year.... " she starts with her gentle tone, and you can't help but smile too.

"Have you thought about giving Anaxagoras some? " she says calmly as she takes a slip of her tea, you almost choke with yours.

After a few moments of recovery you look at her confused, and before you can even form your questions, she continues.

"I know he might not look like the kind of person that would enjoy or care about this kind of celebration, nevertheless, if it's you who gifts him such a sign of appreciation, he won't refuse. " Sensing your doubt, she places a hand above yours.

"I'm sure you've noticed how much he had improved over months. " She gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Please, dear friend, give him a chance, you can't know how it will turn out if you don't try. " Her tone and smile are gentle as she softly let's go of your hand.

Aglaea tries to convince you a little more before changing of topic, going back to your usual themes of conversation.

Times goes by and you find yourself walking out of the residence as you say goodbye to Aglaea, but before you can close the door she calls you once more.

"Please, consider what we talked earlier. " She gently pats your head. "Don't worry, my child. Trust me, you know I would never suggest something that could cause you any harm. " And with that, you walk to your home, thinking about your earlier conversation.

Doubt lingers on the back in your mind, but with a sight you decide to take her suggestion.

The worse it could happen is if the chocolates turn out to not be of his liking.

--------

Later on the same day, moments after you leave, Anaxa knocks Aglaea's door.

The conversation is fairly similar to what she had with you, it started casual, with regular and not so important topics before bringing the real focus of the day.

"Lover's day is around the corner, have you already thought about what are you going to gift to your beloved, Anaxagoras? " She notices how his body tenses at the mention of such date.

Of course he knows it's near, he even is aware if the seconds and minutes that are left for said date to arrive. In facts he had been preparing his gift for a whole month, meticulously looking out for the perfect recepie, choosing your favorite flavor, your favorite type of chocolate, how would you like the shape to look like, your favourite type of packaging. He also will buy the same day a bouquet of flowers, also carefully and deliberately chosen to express his intentions with you and a plush of your favorite animal. Castorice herself helped him to make sure everything is perfect for the important day, but he won't tell Aglaea all of that, so he just nods.

She decides to not ask more questions and keep the conversation light, satisfied to know that he did something. She already knows he didn't just pick anything and go with it, he is too perfectionist for that and wants your love so badly it's impossible for him to not do something worth of you.

She can't wait for the day to finally arrive.

---------

The first one to receive our gift is obviously Castorice, you woke up early to greet her and give her her sweets, followed by your dear Aglaea, Phainon and Mydei, followed by some other important people. That lives you with only one box of chocolates to give... Anaxagoras's.

All the Chrysos heirs asked about it, after thanking you properly for your gesture, of course. You have all the same exact response, telling them how you haven't seen him yet and that you'd look out for him. Truth to be told, you have been intentionally avoiding him.

It's not like you are scared if him, not the way you did before anyways. It's not like it's the first time you find yourself in this situation, it was exactly like this the first time you gifted something to anyone for the first time, and to this day you still cringe when remembering it. You just hope it won't be as painfully awkward as when you first gave one gift to Mydei, you wouldn't handle it.

It's not like you didn't put effort or anything, actually, you tried so hard to make it perfect that you forgot to sleep and eat.

Everything is handmade, from the chocolates to the box, everything made carefully with Anaxa's likings on mind, but still, your nerves are killing you.

You really hope he likes it, you think as you finally start looking out for him.

-----

Anaxa has been looking out for you everywhere.

He asked everyone he knew and they were equally confused as him. According to them, you were looking out for him, but he was also doing the same so there could be two options, or you two are having terrible bad luck (he doesn't believe in luck) or you are avoiding him. The last option makes his heart hurt, but he still is determined to find you, soon or later.

------

You take deep breaths to steady your nerves, but it doesn't help. Every second feels like torture and you can't do anything about it. You can't hide forever, he will find you, and if not him, Aglaea will and you don't want to go throughout that embarrassment. So you use the little bit if strength you have and look out for him.

It doesn't take too much for you to find him, and even less for him to notice you. It almost scares you how quickly he was aware that you were approaching him, but you decide to ignore it and before he can open his mouth, you hand him his gift.

You somehow find the courage to look at his eye and his surprise surprises you, but it quickly transforms into anxiety as he inspects the box. It is of his favourite colors, elegant and sophisticated. He can notice the handmade nature of the box as he sees the small imperfections in it. He also sees the rests if your effort on your fingers as you okay with them, the pain clearly visible around your hand.

The chocolates are also good, they have leaf shapes and are bitter, as he likes. He can't stop the way his lips curl ever so lightly and how his gaze seems to soften.

"Thank you. " his voice lacks his usual coldness and arrogance, and you never heard it before, it takes you a little to process before he hand you your gifts.

A plush, some chocolates and flowers, it's obvious it was picked for you, because it all has your favourite things all over it, and you can't help but be stunned. You don't know what's more impressive, the fact that he gave you something at all, or how much he did to make it so you'd love it.

You give him the biggest smile you could and your tone is nothing but grateful and happy as you thank him. He still looks at you with the same almost unnoticeable softness as you admire your gifts and he wishes you could always be like this around him.

You talk a little before heading to your respective houses before his voice calls you out.

"You don't have to call me Anaxagoras, just Anaxa is fine. "He calmly comments, but you are completely flabbergasted. He hates being called Anaxa, he made sure to make it clear and you did your best to avoid calling him that, so it was a shook to hear him saying that, especially since he didn't say a reason why you could.

Still, after recovering from the recent surprise, you nod and oblige, and you can almost see a smile before you two part ways.

The day didn't have a confession, some wild drama or anything extravagant, but you two were content, and that's all that matters. This was your story, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

-----------

Aglaea smiles to herself as she looks at the scene, glad that everything worked out at the end and that the two lover birds are happy and satisfied. So she walks away like the other two, ready to keep sketching more ideas for your wedding dress.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author note: poor baby Phainon, he has to deal with Anaxa's jealousy :( anyways, this is not the final part, idk how much more there will be BDNDNDN

Also, we all need an aglaea in our lives

I was thinking about naming this fics 'Amphoreus worse romcom' but what would you think? Anyways, see ya

i think anaxa would like the ozymandias poem

tbh We know so little of him I cant even make up a theory like I usually do😭 but there is definitely something about his covered eye, an hand like shadow is reaching for it, too

I cant wait for 3.1 I just want anaxa content

ANAXA IS HERE

He just gives away how to annoy the daylights out of him that easily... he's insufferable your honor.

the things I want to say about him are not in the bible

but can we talk about his shadow? “Demised Scholar”? tf are they cooking with him

ANAXA IS HERE

He just gives away how to annoy the daylights out of him that easily... he's insufferable your honor.

small art dump bc I swear Im not pathetic about fictional characters 7/24 and Im really cool

♡⠀ ⠀｡ rentry overlay dump　|　not made by me !

𓎟𓎟  ⠀ likes ╱ reblogs are appreciated 𓏵

REAL💔💔

hoyo please give anaxa crumbs. please

I’m going to perform medical malpractice on you cuz I love you

*trying to say i like a fictional character* yeah he activates my predator animal drive

anaxa 🩵

I HONESTLY CAN'T DECIDE BETWEEN KEVIN AND GILGAMESH

his confused expression is so fucking funny

Since we learnt from leaks that they are buffing old characters, I really hope they make him playable again because even with sunday+ruan mei he still does shit dmg, and I have him at 8k hp its almost scary

hoyo please I miss my wife make him great again

I see😔😔

I’ll be waiting 😌

I cannot get over anaxa being a sassy bitch in his text thing to aglaea lmao

In the Japanese text apparently, he even calls her a hypocrite lolol. Praying so hard that he stays as insufferable (or even more) as this. Bitch of the bitches or whatever it is, we need more characters who have no chill.

This, unironically gave me an idea : Anaxa who is hated throughout Amphoreus with a Reader who is loved by everyone — how basic it is to fall for you. He thought himself to be sharper than that, not be weak to the trap you definitely have set. It's simply not logically possible for everyone to love someone unanimously, it has to be an illusion — like that sky of Amphoreus. It is a shame that a scholar's curiosity is his greatest bane, he never should've never fostered his questions.

Or the less emotionally packed and sweeter alternative, one where you're in an established relationship and a rather happy one at that. The people of Amphoreus can't comprehend this match, there has to be something more to this, right? Blink twice if you need help.

okay some kind of one-shot about this when

I cannot get over anaxa being a sassy bitch in his text thing to aglaea lmao

In the Japanese text apparently, he even calls her a hypocrite lolol. Praying so hard that he stays as insufferable (or even more) as this. Bitch of the bitches or whatever it is, we need more characters who have no chill.

This, unironically gave me an idea : Anaxa who is hated throughout Amphoreus with a Reader who is loved by everyone — how basic it is to fall for you. He thought himself to be sharper than that, not be weak to the trap you definitely have set. It's simply not logically possible for everyone to love someone unanimously, it has to be an illusion — like that sky of Amphoreus. It is a shame that a scholar's curiosity is his greatest bane, he never should've never fostered his questions.

Or the less emotionally packed and sweeter alternative, one where you're in an established relationship and a rather happy one at that. The people of Amphoreus can't comprehend this match, there has to be something more to this, right? Blink twice if you need help.

We literally have no information about Anaxa and yet I find myself simping for him, how great.

Anyways, I have a feeling that Anaxa is going to be cursed or something along those lines, he gives off those sort of vibes, doesn’t he? Plus, he has some weird mark on his hand and an eye patch, there is no way that this man is an ordinary scholar. How about you, Harmony-san? Any ideas for Anaxa? :o Also, I like to imagine that yandere! Anaxa is delulu lol.

Darling: How- Why are you in my house, and who are you!?!?

Anaxa: ……You’re my lover, isn’t it obvious to spend time with your beloved?

Darling: I don’t even know who you are…..

I would go absolutely feral if his pet name for darling was ‘beloved’ or something along those lines, like aaaaa I love him so muchhhh orz

(And, if possible, can I please be 💫 anon……? I’ve always loved your works, but never had the courage to send an ask…. But I do plan to send more since I have severe brain rots, so I think you’ll be seeing me lurking more in your posts lol)

Of course! Welcome to this... uhh brainrot dump 💫 anon! Have a cup of tea <3

Not so much as being delulu but, there is the popular hc of Anaxa being autistic, which I agree with as well. There's npc dialogue that hint towards a Chrysos Heir who is very nitpicky about the water's temperature in the baths, there's also some that suggest that Anaxa might not be very well-received around Amphoreus. Which, him being a heretic and all, makes sense. They also call him a yapper, but I think it's a bit of an exaggeration on the npc's part. He's a fundamentally quiet man, but he's simply passionate (in his own way) about the topics he has interest in.

So, my current perception of him is that he's someone who doesn't conform to societal standards without strong (preferably logical) evidence. This bias has contributed to a detachment from human and emotional connection, making him inexperienced and frankly, quite dense towards those prospects. Even if he understands the concept of loving someone on paper, he isn't bright in processing the emotions that are stirring inside right off the bat. And this lack of understanding makes him a bit unintentionally impulsive when it comes to the outer reaction part.

For Yandere!Anaxa, I've been on board with him being devoted to his darling to counteract his lack of faith since they revealed him. You could either go with him having fully accepted darling as his savior or, just keep him in that ‘conflict’ zone where he's questioning his whole existence from the mere realization that he's that endeared by someone. For nicknames, I like the sound of beloved as well, especially if it's said very sarcastically. But I think a concept or object that is very particular to him would be even more precious. We'll just have to wait for the details.

Im disappointed..

GUYS WHAJ HAPONED TO DROPPNG ANAXA XREADERS one after another💔💔💔💔

anaxanation we are better than that

the desperation Im in is unmatched

look at him guys he must spark some inspiration

GRGRGRGR I LOVE YOUR YAN! ANAXA FIC SO MUCHH!!!!! i can feel his desperation through the screen bcs of your writing style!!

but i'm curious. what would happen if we were too late to undo the binding curse? i'm mainly interested in how it would affect anaxa's behavior. would he become a lot more shameless towards reader? concerninly more devoted to reader? or something.

anyway have a great day! love all of your fics!

Ty for sending me your rq. At first, I thought of Anaxa easily surpassing his master but then it'll be no fun. Turns out the final version impressed many of you so I think: okay, this should have an au.

Yandere!Anaxa x Mage!Reader

Artist: gumi_min08 on X

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It finally succeeded. He felt it, so did you. The way his magic wove into yours, not forcefully, but willingly. Anaxa watched you with reverence, eyes filled with something far deeper than mere obsession.

“You trained me” he murmured, brushing gloved fingers over your sleeve, his touch featherlight, almost hesitant. “You shaped me into what I am.”

His fingers curled, as if he wanted to grip you, hold you close, but he didn’t dare. “My magic is yours now. My strength, my will, all of it belongs to you.”

His lips curled slightly, his next words dripping with dark devotion.

“You could break me if you wanted to.”

Your fingers twitched, magic crackling between your palms. And he shuddered. Not in pain, but in rapture.

Your breath stayed even, your control unshaken. “You think binding yourself to me will make me yours?”

Anaxa exhaled sharply.

“No.” His eyes gleamed under the dim torchlight, his voice dropping lower, almost desperate. “But it makes me yours.”

Your magic flared in response. You could feel him. His pulse, his emotions, the way his body ached for your command. You had the power here.

You tilted your chin up, gazing at him with unreadable calm. “You’ve made a mistake, Anaxa.”

His breath hitched, but his smirk remained, a twisted sort of satisfaction flickering in his gaze. “Have I?”

You stepped forward. Your fingers barely brushed against his chest, magic sparking from the touch, his magic trembling in response to yours. His muscles tensed, his entire body waiting.

“Then command me” he murmured, voice raw, filled with something dangerous. “Make me regret it.”

The challenge hung between you, thick and heavy.

You smiled.

A bold challenge. A reckless dare. And oh, how he meant it.

Anaxa didn’t blink as your magic surged, testing the connection between you. You could feel it, his pulse, his hunger, his unwavering devotion. His magic intertwined with yours, raw and unfamiliar, a force you weren’t used to wielding.

It wasn’t submission. It was offering. A dangerous gift, and he knew exactly what he had given you.

You could break him.

You could undo him.

And he would thank you for it.

“Follow me.”

Anaxa inhaled sharply, as if the words alone had power over him. His entire body tensed, not in hesitation, but in satisfaction. He lived for this.

The royal summons arrived sooner than expected.

A minor disturbance near the border, nothing that required the kingdom’s full force, but enough to demand your attention.

It was a test. The king wanted to see how you handled matters now that you had bound Anaxa to you. Anaxa, to his credit, remained composed during the meeting, standing slightly behind you, his presence looming. You were given the task. It wasn’t difficult, but the moment you stepped outside the castle, you felt it.

His magic, tethered to yours.

A second presence in your veins, pulsing with raw, dangerous energy.

It was unnatural. Unfamiliar. Not yours.

And yet… It listened.

It shifted at your will, reacting to your command, awkward at first, but soon it settled. You were adapting to it so quick.

And Anaxa? He noticed.

The mission had been simple. You completed it with ease, your control over Anaxa’s magic growing more refined, more effortless. He watched you the entire time.

And now, back in the tower, his composure had begun to slip.

“You’re getting used to it” he murmured as he leaned against your desk, his eyes half-lidded, watching the way your fingers traced the edges of a spellbook.

You didn’t look up. “Of course I am.”

A low hum. “How does it feel?”

You turned a page idly, not missing the way he inched closer.

“Like something I could destroy you with.”

Anaxa exhaled. He stepped behind you, gloved fingers brushing over your wrist. His touch was deliberate, slow. Affectionate.

“Then do it” he murmured, voice dangerously soft.

You didn’t pull away. You could feel his warmth, his obsession, the way his magic curled around yours, binding, craving.

It would be so easy to push him away. But you didn’t.

Instead, you turned slightly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. Anaxa’s breath hitched. Because you were looking at him differently now.

Not with disgust.

Not with hatred.

But with power.

And he had never loved you more.

You could feel it growing inside you.

Anaxa’s power was never simply magic, but something ancient, raw, instinctual. His people had once been warriors, feared across the lands for their overwhelming might. Magic was in their blood, in their bones. They were not mere spellcasters, they were forces of nature, walking calamities.

And now, their magic pulsed in your veins.

Even as you wielded it with more ease, even as your spells became sharper, more devastating, you refused to keep it.

This power was never meant to be yours.

Anaxa would never willingly let go. You knew that. So you did not ask.

You simply brewed the potion, hidden among the vials of restoratives and calming tonics he trusted you to make.

He drank it without suspicion, sitting at your desk, fingers idly tracing the fabric of your sleeve as he watched you read.

“You keep getting stronger” he murmured, as if in awe.

You hummed in response, letting him thread his fingers with yours. Letting him enjoy this moment.

He didn’t notice the way his eyelids grew heavy.

Didn’t realize what you had done until his grip on your hand weakened, his breathing slowing.

“…Master?”

You stood as his body slumped forward, catching him before he collapsed entirely.

His eyes, those burning, devoted eyes—looked up at you, hazy with betrayal. And yet, even as unconsciousness pulled him under, his fingers twitched, reaching for you. You didn’t let him.

You laid him down gently, brushing a stray lock of silver from his face.

“Rest, Anaxa.”

And then, you left.

The Magic Fall—a place where magic pooled in its purest form, untouched by mortal hands.

Few dared to go there.

You had no choice.

Your steps were swift, your mind sharp. The moment you arrived, the energy of the fall pulsed around you, responding to your presence. It knew you. And it knew the power that did not belong.

You knelt before the shimmering pool, closing your eyes, reaching inward, searching for the foreign magic buried inside you.

It fought back. It had settled too deeply, woven into your very being, not just a borrowed force but a claimed one.

And in that moment, you realized something.

This wasn’t a mere binding. Anaxa had given himself to you completely. There was no longer a clear line between your magic and his. If you wanted to remove it, you would have to break something fundamental within yourself.

And as you hesitated, just for a fraction of a second—

A hand gripped your wrist.

Your breath stilled.

You turned your head, slowly.

He was there.

Awake.

Watching you.

Those eyes no longer hazy, no longer vulnerable—but sharp. Unyielding.

He should still be unconscious. The potion should have lasted hours.

Anaxa’s grip tightened, but not painfully.

“You tried to leave me behind.”

His voice was steady, low. Unforgiving.

You did not answer. Because you knew what you had done. The words hung between you, thick with quiet anger, quiet devotion.

Anaxa’s grip on your wrist was firm. His magic pulsed against yours, reacting to your emotions, your hesitation.

You kept your face neutral. Unshaken.

“Let go, Anaxa.”

His fingers only tightened, slow and deliberate, but not forceful. Not yet. “No.” His voice was steady, unwavering.

You exhaled slowly, glancing at the shimmering magic pool beneath you. “I won’t ask again.”

A slow smirk curled on his lips, but his eyes were anything but amused.“Then don’t.”

He pulled. And before you could react, before you could stop him, he stepped into the pool with you. Magic surged around you both, light swallowing the world whole. The magic fall was alive. It wrapped around your bodies, seeking, searching, demanding answers. Your body trembled as the magic within you pulsed violently, tangled in Anaxa’s essence, reacting as if it had always belonged.

No, this wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

You had come here to remove him.

Instead, the pool was accepting him. Accepting you together.

Anaxa’s fingers laced through yours, his magic intertwining too naturally.

You snapped your head toward him. “What did you do?”

His expression was unreadable, but his eyes burned with something deep, all-consuming.

“I belong to you.” His voice was soft, reverent, worshipful.

The spell was not something you could simply undo. Not something to sever without consequence. It was no longer just a spell. It had become a foundation. A part of you and him. The magic fall itself recognized it. The water around you pulsed, ripples of golden energy reacting to the bond, not rejecting it, but strengthening it.

Your stomach turned cold.

This place....this pure, ancient magic...should have erased him from you. Instead, it was solidifying him in you. There would be no breaking this. Not without breaking yourself.

Anaxa had known all along. That was why he hadn’t fought the potion. Why he hadn’t tried to stop you before. Because he knew you would fail.

His other hand rose slowly, fingertips brushing your cheek.

You should have slapped him away.

Should have burned him with your magic.

Should have done something.

Instead, you stared at him- trapped in the realization that this man had given himself to you in a way that could never be undone.

Anaxa’s smirk softened into something too tender, too dangerous.

“You can’t get rid of me, Master.”

His lips brushed against your knuckles, breath warm against your skin.

“And even if you could…”

His fingers curled against yours. “You wouldn’t.”

You couldn’t deny it. That part of him that got woven to you affected you greatly. Your life is now his too. But will he get the upper hand? You shall let time decides.

The way my prayers have been answered with this anaxa x readers that has been dropping one after another these days

Love your writing 😍 about anaxa and phainon

Hoping that I can see more of them✨

Since I've just updated Yandere!Phainon, I'll write Yandere!Anaxa. Thank you for supporting me🩵

Yandere!Anaxa x Florist!Reader

In a quiet kingdom known for its lush flora, you run a small but thriving flower shop, using your magic to cultivate rare and powerful plants. Strong-willed and sharp-tongued, you care little for wealth or titles, only for the flowers that bloom under your care. Then he walks in.

A man shrouded in mystery and danger, arrives with a strange plant in hand and an offer to research it

The bell above your shop’s door chimed softly, signaling a customer. You barely looked up from where you were tending to a tray of delicate orchids, brushing your fingertips over their petals.

“Welcome” you said, voice steady yet warm. “Take your time.”

No response. How strange, most visitors, whether locals or travelers, at least offered a greeting. You turned your gaze toward the entrance only to find a man standing motionless, barely past the threshold.

And the moment your eyes met his, chaos erupted. The vines and roots in your shop, normally docile, swaying gently under your magic suddenly lashed out, twisting and lunging toward him like living creatures with a mind of their own. Thorns glinted under the lantern light, reaching to pierce into his skin.

You moved instantly.

Lifting a hand, you called forth your magic, your power sweeping through the air like an unseen force. The aggressive vines froze, caught mid-air, mere inches from his throat. With a flick of your wrist, they recoiled and slithered back, retreating into the soil.

You let out a slow breath before turning your sharp gaze to the stranger.

Now that you had a better look, you could see why your plants had reacted so violently.

The man before you was no ordinary traveler.

Dark fabric clung to his tall frame, adorned with silver accents and lined with enchanted thread that shimmered faintly under the light. His hair, a cascade of green, framed striking eyes that watched you without a hint of fear.

If anything…

He looked amused.

“I see” he murmured, his tone smooth, almost lazy. “They don’t like me.”

Your grip on your magic remained firm. “That makes two of us.”

A soft chuckle escaped him. “Oh? And here I thought florists were supposed to be welcoming.”

You didn’t smile. “Florists don’t typically get customers who trigger an unprovoked magical attack.”

His gaze flickered to the now-docile vines before returning to you. “Unprovoked, hm?”

You narrowed your eyes. There was something about him. Something unnatural. Your plants had never reacted like that before, not even to dangerous men. Which meant… This man was something else entirely.

Despite the warning signs, you did not turn him away. You were no fool. Forcing him out would only make him return.

Instead, you did what you did best, you observed.

You allowed him to browse your shop, watching from behind the counter as he idly picked up flowers, rolling their stems between his gloved fingers.

The tension in your shop was thick. Your plants remained still, but you could feel them watching, waiting.

Finally, the man turned to you, holding up a single white lily. “I’ll take this one.”

You eyed him. “A white lily?”

He hummed. “Is that a problem?”

You set down your gardening shears, stepping out from behind the counter. “That flower means purity and devotion.”

Another chuckle. “How fitting.”

You frowned. “For you?”

“For you” he corrected smoothly.

You stared. He held the lily up, brushing the petals along his fingers. “You protected me, didn’t you? Even when your magic screamed otherwise?”

“You weren’t in danger” you said evenly. “I was protecting my shop from needless damage. Not you.”

He tilted his head. “Is that so?”

Before you could respond, he did something unforgivable.

He brought the lily to his lips and bit down on the petals.

You snapped. Without thinking, you moved. In a blur of motion, you grabbed his wrist and yanked him forward, slamming him against the wooden counter with surprising strength.

His smirk faltered, eyes widening just slightly.

He wasn’t expecting this.

You leaned in close, voice dangerously soft.

“Don't do that to my flowers.”

His smirk returned, sharper this time. “Apologies” he purred, unbothered by his current position. “I was just curious.”

Your grip on his wrist remained firm. Tight to the point you could feel his pulse. Steady. Unnaturally calm. A normal man would have tensed, would have recoiled at your sudden aggression.

But he didn't. He simply studied your reaction.

Your eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

For the first time, he didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, his gaze softened—just slightly.

Then, he smiled. Is that interest you saw in his eyes?

“I think” he murmured, tilting his head ever so slightly, “I’d like to find that out with you.”

And somehow, despite everything, despite the danger that curled around him like a cloak, you had the sinking feeling that this was only the beginning.

-----

The moment Anaxa placed the plant in your hands, you felt it. It was alive. Not in the way all plants were, this was something else.

The veins in its leaves pulsed faintly, like a slow heartbeat. The roots twitched as if sensing your presence, curling toward your fingers.

You tore your gaze away from it, leveling Anaxa with a sharp look. “Where did you find this?”

His smirk was slow, deliberate. “Does it matter?”

“It does if I’m the one researching it.”

He chuckled, tilting his head slightly. “Then consider it a mystery for you to solve.”

You frowned. He was hiding something.

But that didn’t matter, not yet.

For now, the plant held your full attention. You ran your fingers along the stem, noting the strange texture. Not quite wood, not quite flesh. Somewhere in between.

“How long do I have?” you asked.

Anaxa’s eyes flickered, amused by your immediate interest. “No rush. Take as long as you need.”

“Even if it takes years?”

His lips curled. “I have patience.”

You narrowed your eyes. That was a lie.

No man who smirked like that, who watched you like that, was capable of patience.

But you said nothing. Instead, you turned away, already lost in thought.

This plant… it could change everything.

Days turned to weeks, and the more you uncovered about the plant, the more you realized it was wrong. It absorbed magic. Fed off of it. Craved it.

Your greenhouse had become a battleground of willpower, your magic straining to contain the unnatural hunger of its roots.

But more concerning than the plant itself was him. Anaxa visited often. Too often.

Always watching. Always hovering just close enough that his presence became a shadow at your back, his warmth bleeding into your space.

It was suffocating and you hated that. You didn't use to working under such stressful environment.

“You’re distracted today” he murmured, leaning against the wooden counter as he watched you work.

You didn’t look up. “I have a guest who refuses to leave. I wonder why.”

A low chuckle. “Is that what I am? A guest?”

“What else would you be?”

He hummed, pushing off the counter. You felt him step closer, his presence a tangible weight behind you.

“You tell me, florist.”

The way he said that title, it wasn’t mockery.

It was fond.

You exhaled sharply, fingers tightening around your shears. “You’re getting in the way of my work.”

“I don’t mind” he said smoothly.

“I do.”

He didn’t move.

Instead, he reached out, slow, measured, testing. You felt the ghost of his fingertips skim over your wrist, a barely-there touch and yet it burned.

You turned sharply, your shears flashing between the two of you, the blade stopping just before his throat.

Anaxa merely raised an eyebrow, utterly unbothered. Then, slowly, he smiled.

“You’re so beautiful when you threaten me.”

You stared at him, heart pounding and something inside you twisted.

Not in anger.

Not in fear.

In something far more dangerous.

And from the way his eyes darkened, he knew. Your breath was steady. Your hand did not shake. The shears remained pressed lightly against his throat, just enough for him to feel the cold metal against his skin. But Anaxa… he wasn’t afraid. If anything, he leaned in.

His voice was thick with amusement. “What now, little florist? Will you cut me down like your flowers?”

You exhaled slowly, eyes locked onto his. “Maybe.”

His smirk widened. “Do it.”

Your fingers tensed. Damn him. He was testing you. You hated that part of you, the part he had awakened, that wanted to push back.

You lowered the shears, stepping away. “I have work to do.”

Anaxa chuckled, touching his throat where the shears had been, mockingly thoughtful. “Mm. A shame. I would have liked to see how deep you'd go.”

You shot him a glare. “Don’t tempt me.”

Despite everything, you still let him into your shop.

Anaxa never made himself scarce, always finding reasons to linger, offering idle conversation, watching as you worked, leaving small, carefully chosen gifts.

A book on ancient flora he knew you’d been searching for. A rare seed he procured from a distant kingdom. Even something as simple as a hot cup of tea on particularly exhausting days.

It was all calculated. And it was working. Because despite your wariness, despite knowing exactly what kind of man he was, you found yourself hesitating less when he got close. And Anaxa noticed.

One evening, as you were tending to the strange plant he had brought, you felt him step behind you. His fingers brushed your wrist, guiding your hand over the leaves.

“Do you feel it?” he murmured, his breath warm against your ear.

The plant pulsed beneath your touch.

You swallowed hard. “Yes.”

He hummed, his fingers curling slightly over yours. “Just like you, it thrives on attention.”

Your lips parted to argue, to deny, to push him away. But your traitorous body remained still. That silence was all he needed.

His grip tightened. Just long enough to remind you who was winning this game.

The first incident happened three days later.

A neighboring florist, one of your longtime friends—vanished.

The second incident followed soon after.

Another florist. A merchant. Anyone who spent too much time near you. No bodies. No signs of struggle. Just whispers of disappearances.

And then, the third incident.

This time, the attack was aimed at you.

A masked figure cornered you late at night, their blade glinting under the dim lantern light. But you were no helpless damsel. Before they could strike, you reached into your apron, pulled out a handful of crushed lilies and blew the powder into their face.

The paralysis was instant. The would-be assassin barely had time to stagger before crumpling to the ground, unmoving. You stepped back, breathing heavily, heart hammering.

Then, from the darkness, a slow clap.

You turned, only to find him.

Anaxa stood in the shadows, watching you with that infuriating, satisfied smile.

“You handled that well” he murmured.

Your fingers curled into fists. “This was your doing.”

“Was it?” He tilted his head, stepping closer, eyes never leaving yours. “Strange… I seem to remember warning you that this town had become dangerous.”

You glared. “You expect me to believe this was a coincidence?”

“I expect you to be smart enough to see the truth.” He stopped a mere breath away from you, his fingers reaching out to trace along the petals of the flower in your hair.

“You need me, Y/N.” His voice was barely above a whisper. “And I’m the only one who will stay.”

Your pulse pounded. Not with fear.

But with the bitter realization that he wasn’t wrong.

The disappearances. The attack. The uncertainty in the air. Who else could you trust now?

He had woven himself into your life. And somehow, you had let him. But that didn’t mean you had lost.

Not yet.

So instead of pulling away, instead of rejecting his words, you met his gaze head-on.

“You think you’ve won?” you murmured.

His smile widened. “Haven’t I?”

You leaned in slightly, your breath ghosting against his skin, your fingers grazing his wrist. And then, in a single swift motion. You twisted his arm behind his back, slammed him against the shop’s wooden post, and pressed the sharp tip of your pruning shears to his throat.

Anaxa let out a soft, breathless laugh.

“Ah…” His voice was practically shaking with delight. “Now you’re just teasing me.”

Your grip tightened. “You don’t scare me.”

“You should” he murmured.

You stared at him, heart hammering, waiting for the moment he’d retaliate—waiting for him to strike. But he didn’t. Instead, he leaned into the blade. A thin line of crimson beaded against his pale skin, but he didn’t flinch.

He only smiled.

“Keep me close” he whispered. “Or watch how far I’ll go to get to you.”

A warning. A promise. A challenge.

And for the first time, you realized this wasn’t a game you could walk away from.

You felt the world blur around you.

Heat crept into your veins, slow and insidious, twisting through your body like roots burrowing deep into the earth. Your fingers trembled as you gripped the counter, trying to steady yourself.

Your vision swam, colors bleeding together. Across from you, Anaxa stood, watching you with sick satisfaction.

You had been poisoned.

Not to kill. Not to harm.

But to bind.

“What… did you do?” Your voice came out breathless, weaker than you wanted it to be.

Anaxa’s smile was slow, patient, victorious.

“Shh.” He stepped closer, brushing a gloved hand against your flushed cheek. “Let it settle, little flower. There’s no use fighting it.”

Your breathing hitched. The warmth pooling in your body was unnatural, like a vine curling around your heart, tightening, twisting, refusing to let go.

Your knees nearly buckled. Anaxa caught you effortlessly, guiding you against his chest, holding you as if he had done this before.

As if he had been waiting for this moment.

“You’re strong” he murmured, pressing his lips against your hair. “I knew you wouldn’t fall easily.”

Your pulse pounded in your ears. Fight. Your mind screamed at you. Resist.

But the weight in your limbs, the fog in your head, it was drowning you.

And worst of all, beneath the confusion and anger, something inside you craved the feeling.

The warmth. The presence. His hands on you. His voice in your ears.

You forced yourself to move, shoving against his chest. He allowed it, stepping back just enough to watch you struggle.

Your glare should have been sharp, but the dizziness dulled it. “You… bastard.”

Anaxa chuckled, tilting his head. “Oh, don’t look at me like that, my dear.”

He reached into his coat and pulled out a delicate glass vial.

Inside, swirling with a faint glow, was the same plant you had spent weeks researching.

Understanding slammed into you.

The plant. The rumors. The disappearances.

Your breath came short and shallow. “You planned this from the beginning.”

Anaxa smiled.

“Of course I did.”

Your mind was still reeling, but one thing was clear—Anaxa was not just some wandering researcher.

He was someone powerful. Someone who had influence. And now that you thought about it, his posture, his way of speaking, the way he expected to be obeyed. It was all too familiar.

Royalty.

Your lips parted in realization. “You—”

“I rule the neighbor kingdom, Y/N.” He said it softly, as if it were the simplest truth in the world. “And now, so will you.”

Your stomach twisted. “I never wanted that.”

“But you need it,” he countered. “And you need me.”

You clenched your fists. “What I need is for you to let me go.”

He smiled, patient as ever. “But you won’t leave.”

You narrowed your eyes. “And why is that?”

Anaxa’s stepped closer, his fingers brushing your pulse point. “Because I’ve rooted myself in you.”

Your breath caught.

“You feel it, don’t you?” His voice was low, hypnotic. “That pull. That ache.”

The poison makes you crave him.

Anaxa leaned in, his lips mere inches from yours.

“You are mine now.”

For days, you tried to fight it.

The bond, the warmth, the way his presence made your pulse race.

His voice in your ears. His hands guiding yours as you tended to the flowers. His whispers at night, promising, coaxing, binding.

You hated him. You hated how good he was at this. At pulling you in. At making you his.

And worst of all?

Somewhere along the way…

You had stopped trying to leave.

There was no escape from him. You will soon wither in his arms just like that lily.

Yandere!Anaxa x Mage!Reader

The first time he saw you, you were undoing his chains.

His wrists were raw, skin torn from years of iron biting into flesh. His once-proud posture was nothing more than a hunched, broken frame, his long, pale green hair tangled and dull. He had no strength left to fight, only hatred simmering behind the eyes that still refused to yield.

You tended to him with hands far too gentle for someone with your power. You fed him, clothed him, healed him. And when his body recovered, you honed his mind.

"You’re free now" you had told him, but it wasn’t freedom you gave, it was discipline, strength, purpose. You sharpened his survival instincts, refined his combat abilities, ensuring he could stand on his own before releasing him into the world.

At first, he thought you were no different from his past captors, just another powerful figure toying with him under the guise of mercy. But as time passed, your kindness never faltered. You spoke to him, not as a master, not as an owner, but as an equal.

And then, one day, you left.

No farewell, no explanation. You had done your duty, and that was all he was to you. A responsibility. A passing moment in your grand, untouchable life.

He should have forgotten you. But he couldn’t. So he searched.

He followed whispers, traced the echoes of your name through the cities and villages, piecing together the legend that surrounded you. Y/n L/n, the Kingdom’s Respected Mage. Revered, beloved, unmatched in power. People spoke of you in awe, their eyes filled with admiration, their voices dripping with devotion.

It infuriated him. They didn’t deserve you. They hadn’t seen you the way he had.

And yet, you had left him behind to return to them.

His fingers curled into fists, trembling with rage and something far darker. If he wanted you, if he wanted you to be his, he needed to become more.

More than the people who adored you. More than the kingdom that praised you. More than even you yourself.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. The Kingdom’s Grand Arcane Tournament, a competition where only the strongest mages, warriors, and scholars gathered to prove their worth. Victory meant recognition, power, and most importantly… a chance to stand before you.

Anaxa’s lips curled slightly as he adjusted his gloves, ignoring the eyes around him. He wasn’t here for glory. He wasn’t here for the approval of nobles or the admiration of the masses. No, he was here for one reason alone.

To surpass you. And he was close.

The trials had been brutal, designed to eliminate the weak and unworthy. Fire rained from the sky, ice storms threatened to freeze bones solid, illusion magic twisted reality into nightmares. Yet, he endured. He thrived.

Every challenge was a step closer to you.

And then, fate finally brought you before him.

He had been walking through the grand halls of the castle, led by a guard toward the final test, when he saw you.

You moved with effortless grace, your robes flowing like liquid magic, the insignia of the Royal Mage embroidered upon your chest. Power radiated from you, but it was your presence that struck him the hardest.

The way nobles bowed their heads in respect. The way knights stepped aside in silent reverence. The way the very air seemed to hum in response to your existence.

You had grown even more magnificent. More untouchable.

His breath caught as he stepped forward, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

"Y/n!"

For a fleeting moment, your eyes flickered toward him. And then...nothing. No recognition. No reaction. You walked past him as if he was no more than a stranger, your focus already on your destination.

Anaxa froze.

Something inside him twisted, snapped, burned.

You ignored him? No.... No, no, no. This wasn’t right.

After everything. After all this time.

His fists clenched, his breathing shallow, but before he could move, the guards pushed him forward.

"The final test awaits" one of them grunted, leading him toward the towering gates of the Arcane Trial Grounds.

Anaxa didn’t resist. He let them guide him, but his thoughts never left you. It didn’t matter. Soon, it wouldn’t matter. Because when he won, when he stood above everyone else, you would have to look at him.

The moment Anaxa stepped inside the Tower, the air grew heavier, thick with enchantments woven over centuries. The last trial wasn’t a simple battle...it was a test of mind, body, and soul.

Whispers curled through the halls, illusions flickered at the edges of his vision, phantoms of his past trying to drag him into despair.

He saw chains. Rusted. Bloodied. Binding his wrists once more.

"You will never be free."

A voice sneered from the shadows. His very own voice. The voice of the boy who had once been weak. The boy you had left behind.

Anaxa exhaled slowly, his pink-violet eyes sharpening with cold resolve.

With a flick of his wrist, magic surged through him, and the illusions shattered like glass.

He wasn’t that boy anymore.

And he would prove it.

One step at a time, he climbed. The Tower challenged him with spell after spell, enemy after enemy, but he never faltered. His body ached, his magic burned in his veins, but he kept going.

Until, at last, he reached the highest chamber, the domain of the Royal Mage.

Your domain.

His breath was ragged, his clothes tattered, but a smirk played at his lips as he pushed the grand doors open.

And there you were.

Standing at the center of the grand hall, surrounded by books, scrolls, and floating runes. You turned at the sound of the door creaking open, your eyes meeting his once more.

This time, you didn’t ignore him.

"You pass."

That was all you had said when Anaxa stood before you in the Tower's highest chamber, battle-worn yet victorious. No praise, no warmth, just a simple statement before you handed him his new assignment. He would now serve directly under you, a mage of the Tower, tasked with studying arcane knowledge, assisting with research, and maintaining magical defenses for the kingdom.

But despite his new status, you kept your distance.

You never looked at him for long. You never spoke beyond what was necessary. You never acknowledged the years he had spent chasing after you.

Still, he obeyed. He played the role of the devoted mage, following your every instruction without complaint. If keeping his head down, working tirelessly, and proving his worth was the only way to break through your walls, then so be it. But he pushed himself too far.

It happened late one night. The Tower was quiet, most scholars having retired to their quarters, but Anaxa remained. He sat hunched over an ancient text, his normally immaculate pale green hair disheveled, dark circles forming beneath his eyes.

His fingers trembled as he traced sigils onto parchment. His mind swam, exhaustion clawing at the edges of his consciousness, but he refused to stop.

Just a little more. Just a little longer.

He had to be stronger. Smarter. Worthy.

The ink blurred. His vision swayed.

And then.. his body crumpled forward, knocking over a stack of scrolls as he collapsed onto the cold stone floor.

When he woke, the world was softer.

The unbearable ache in his body remained, but something warm pressed against his forehead- a damp cloth, cooling his fevered skin. His mind was sluggish, his limbs weak, but as he slowly blinked his way back to consciousness, a familiar presence filled his senses.

You. You were there.

His head rested on something—no, someone. Your lap.

Your hands, ones he had longed for, ones that had once freed him now hovered over his chest, weaving delicate healing sigils into the air.

His breath hitched.

“...You’re awake.”

Your voice was as calm as ever, but there was something different this time. A softness, a quiet concern you hadn’t shown him before. Anaxa swallowed hard, unsure if this was reality or some cruel dream.

"You overworked yourself" you said simply, as if scolding a stubborn child. "You need to rest."

He should have answered. Should have thanked you, should have reassured you that he was fine. But his mind was drowning in you. Your scent, your warmth, the way your fingers had just barely brushed against his hair. For the first time in so long, he felt something other than burning obsession. He felt peace.

His lips parted, his voice hoarse. "Stay."

You paused, your fingers stiffening for just a fraction of a second. Then, with the same unreadable expression, you withdrew your hand.

"You need sleep" you repeated, carefully shifting his head off your lap and onto a pillow instead. "I’ll check on you in the morning."

And just like that, the warmth vanished. The door clicked shut behind you. Anaxa stared at the ceiling, his heart pounding, his fists clenching the sheets beneath him.

For a moment, he had hoped.

For a moment, you had been his.

And now, more than ever, he knew he had to make you stay.

Anaxa was always watching. Always waiting.

For your approval. For your attention. For you.

But no matter how much he proved himself, no matter how hard he worked, you remained just out of reach. Close enough to torment him with your presence, but distant enough to remind him that he was still beneath you.

So when whispers of forbidden magic reached his ears, whispers of power that could surpass even yours- he listened.

It started with a single spell. A curse laced into his fingertips, shadowed energy that crackled at his touch. The rush of it, the sheer force, was intoxicating. For the first time, he felt as though he could close the gap between you. But you found out.

The moment you saw the dark magic coiling around his form, your expression darkened, your voice sharper than he had ever heard.

"Are you insane?" You demanded, eyes burning with disappointment. "You know what dark magic does to the mind of people, to the soul. Were you really willing to throw everything away for this?"

He had expected punishment. Maybe even expulsion.

But instead, you chose supervision. From then on, you kept him under your watch, ensuring he didn’t step out of line.

It should have felt like a leash.

But to him? It felt like being caged in your presence. And he loved it.

Under your watchful eye, Anaxa returned to his duties, but the hunger in his heart never faded.

Late at night, when the Tower was silent, he poured over ancient scrolls, searching for something he had never dared to seek before- his past.

And he found it.

His people. His homeland. The ones who had sold him into chains. The weight of it settled in his chest like stone. The hatred, the pain boiled beneath his skin. He couldn’t stay here. Not when the past still breathed. So he did the only thing he could. He ran.

Slipping past the Tower’s wards was difficult, but not impossible. He had memorized every security spell, every blind spot. He knew how to disappear.

But he also knew you would never let him go so easily.

He should have known you were following him.

Every time the road grew dangerous, every time the enemy’s traps were one step ahead of him, something interfered. A spell dissolving a barrier. A blade missing its mark. A shadow moving just out of sight.

By the time he reached his enemies- the cowards who had once controlled his fate, he knew. You had been there the entire time. But it didn’t matter. Not when he stood before the people who had once sold him into slavery. Not when he saw the fear in their eyes. And suddenly… revenge felt meaningless.

They weren’t gods. They weren’t demons. They were just pathetic.

Killing them wouldn’t erase the past. It wouldn’t change anything.

So he turned his back on them.

And when he walked away, he knew you were waiting.

The journey back to the Tower was silent.

You never scolded him. Never demanded answers.

But when you finally reached your chambers, he fell apart.

"Erase it" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Erase everything."

You stiffened. "Anaxa..."

"Please." His eyes were wild, desperate. "If it’s you...if it’s your magic, master...I won’t fight it."

You frowned. "Memories shape the mind. If I remove them, it will change you."

"It’ll be fine if it’s you controlling me."

The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them.

For a long moment, there was silence.

"You need rest" you said softly.

You turned away.

And for the first time, he wished you would just take him. The silence after his plea was unbearable. You didn’t answer him. You didn’t cast the spell he begged for. You simply turned away, as if his pain, his very existence, was just another fleeting moment in your long, untouchable life. And that broke something inside him. Days passed. Then weeks. Anaxa returned to his duties, but he was different now.

He still watched you. Still obeyed you. Still craved you.

But now, there was nothing else left inside him.

The hatred, the grief, the fire that once burned in his veins- gone.

All that remained was you.

You, who had refused to erase him. You, who had refused to free him from his torment. You, who had chosen to let him suffer.

And if you would not take away his pain, then there was only one other path left.

It happened deep in the Tower, beneath layers of wards and forgotten corridors, where only the most forbidden spells were kept.

Anaxa stood before an ancient circle, his fingers tracing over runes that pulsed with dark magic.

If you would not erase his past… If you would not take control of his mind…

Then he would give everything to you himself.

A spell older than time. A binding more powerful than any chains.

A curse that would tie his very soul to yours.

By the time you found him, the ritual was nearly complete.

"Anaxa!" Your voice cut through the chamber, furious and sharp. "Stop this!"

He turned, smiling softly. Finally, finally, you were looking at him.

"I can’t" he murmured. "I don't want to exist without you anymore."

The runes flared to life. Magic crackled around him, the binding beginning to weave itself into his flesh. You moved. Faster than he had ever seen before, you raised your hands, and in an instant, his spell was shattered.

The backlash sent him to his knees, gasping as raw magic burned through his veins. His vision blurred, his breath ragged, but none of it mattered. Because you were standing over him now, your face unreadable, your fingers curling into tight fists.

"You're a fool" you whispered. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

He let out a breathless laugh, his eyes filled with something between devotion and madness.

"I tried to give myself to you" he said. "But I was wrong, wasn't I?"

"You're the only one who can claim me. So do it, master." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Make me yours."

You stared at him.

At the man who had once loathed you. At the boy you had saved. At the monster you had created.

And for the first time, you hesitated.

Because despite everything… you felt it too, didn’t you?

The way he always sought you out. The way he belonged to you, in a way no one else ever had.

Maybe it would be easier if he was only yours. If he never left. If you never had to wonder if he'd disappear into the night, chasing ghosts of a past he could never change. Maybe it would be better if he belonged to you alone.

But in the end, you didn’t say those words.

You only sighed, kneeling beside him, your fingers brushing over his pale hair.

"You’re staying" you murmured. "That much is certain."

His breath hitched.

"But" you continued, your voice turning firm, "I will never take away your mind, your will, your soul."

You tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

"You don’t get to run away from your pain, Anaxa. Not with dark magic, and not through me."

He trembled. He hated this. Hated the way you still held the power, the way you still refused to let him give himself up completely.

But deep down, he knew, he had already lost.

And yet, as he knelt there, drinking in the warmth of your touch, he decided.. that was fine. Because in the end, whether you wanted it or not. He was already yours.

💥💥

I love the way this is written my god

Yandere!Anaxa x Mage!Reader

The first time he saw you, you were undoing his chains.

His wrists were raw, skin torn from years of iron biting into flesh. His once-proud posture was nothing more than a hunched, broken frame, his long, pale green hair tangled and dull. He had no strength left to fight, only hatred simmering behind the eyes that still refused to yield.

You tended to him with hands far too gentle for someone with your power. You fed him, clothed him, healed him. And when his body recovered, you honed his mind.

"You’re free now" you had told him, but it wasn’t freedom you gave, it was discipline, strength, purpose. You sharpened his survival instincts, refined his combat abilities, ensuring he could stand on his own before releasing him into the world.

At first, he thought you were no different from his past captors, just another powerful figure toying with him under the guise of mercy. But as time passed, your kindness never faltered. You spoke to him, not as a master, not as an owner, but as an equal.

And then, one day, you left.

No farewell, no explanation. You had done your duty, and that was all he was to you. A responsibility. A passing moment in your grand, untouchable life.

He should have forgotten you. But he couldn’t. So he searched.

He followed whispers, traced the echoes of your name through the cities and villages, piecing together the legend that surrounded you. Y/n L/n, the Kingdom’s Respected Mage. Revered, beloved, unmatched in power. People spoke of you in awe, their eyes filled with admiration, their voices dripping with devotion.

It infuriated him. They didn’t deserve you. They hadn’t seen you the way he had.

And yet, you had left him behind to return to them.

His fingers curled into fists, trembling with rage and something far darker. If he wanted you, if he wanted you to be his, he needed to become more.

More than the people who adored you. More than the kingdom that praised you. More than even you yourself.

The roar of the crowd was deafening. The Kingdom’s Grand Arcane Tournament, a competition where only the strongest mages, warriors, and scholars gathered to prove their worth. Victory meant recognition, power, and most importantly… a chance to stand before you.

Anaxa’s lips curled slightly as he adjusted his gloves, ignoring the eyes around him. He wasn’t here for glory. He wasn’t here for the approval of nobles or the admiration of the masses. No, he was here for one reason alone.

To surpass you. And he was close.

The trials had been brutal, designed to eliminate the weak and unworthy. Fire rained from the sky, ice storms threatened to freeze bones solid, illusion magic twisted reality into nightmares. Yet, he endured. He thrived.

Every challenge was a step closer to you.

And then, fate finally brought you before him.

He had been walking through the grand halls of the castle, led by a guard toward the final test, when he saw you.

You moved with effortless grace, your robes flowing like liquid magic, the insignia of the Royal Mage embroidered upon your chest. Power radiated from you, but it was your presence that struck him the hardest.

The way nobles bowed their heads in respect. The way knights stepped aside in silent reverence. The way the very air seemed to hum in response to your existence.

You had grown even more magnificent. More untouchable.

His breath caught as he stepped forward, his voice steady despite the storm raging inside him.

"Y/n!"

For a fleeting moment, your eyes flickered toward him. And then...nothing. No recognition. No reaction. You walked past him as if he was no more than a stranger, your focus already on your destination.

Anaxa froze.

Something inside him twisted, snapped, burned.

You ignored him? No.... No, no, no. This wasn’t right.

After everything. After all this time.

His fists clenched, his breathing shallow, but before he could move, the guards pushed him forward.

"The final test awaits" one of them grunted, leading him toward the towering gates of the Arcane Trial Grounds.

Anaxa didn’t resist. He let them guide him, but his thoughts never left you. It didn’t matter. Soon, it wouldn’t matter. Because when he won, when he stood above everyone else, you would have to look at him.

The moment Anaxa stepped inside the Tower, the air grew heavier, thick with enchantments woven over centuries. The last trial wasn’t a simple battle...it was a test of mind, body, and soul.

Whispers curled through the halls, illusions flickered at the edges of his vision, phantoms of his past trying to drag him into despair.

He saw chains. Rusted. Bloodied. Binding his wrists once more.

"You will never be free."

A voice sneered from the shadows. His very own voice. The voice of the boy who had once been weak. The boy you had left behind.

Anaxa exhaled slowly, his pink-violet eyes sharpening with cold resolve.

With a flick of his wrist, magic surged through him, and the illusions shattered like glass.

He wasn’t that boy anymore.

And he would prove it.

One step at a time, he climbed. The Tower challenged him with spell after spell, enemy after enemy, but he never faltered. His body ached, his magic burned in his veins, but he kept going.

Until, at last, he reached the highest chamber, the domain of the Royal Mage.

Your domain.

His breath was ragged, his clothes tattered, but a smirk played at his lips as he pushed the grand doors open.

And there you were.

Standing at the center of the grand hall, surrounded by books, scrolls, and floating runes. You turned at the sound of the door creaking open, your eyes meeting his once more.

This time, you didn’t ignore him.

"You pass."

That was all you had said when Anaxa stood before you in the Tower's highest chamber, battle-worn yet victorious. No praise, no warmth, just a simple statement before you handed him his new assignment. He would now serve directly under you, a mage of the Tower, tasked with studying arcane knowledge, assisting with research, and maintaining magical defenses for the kingdom.

But despite his new status, you kept your distance.

You never looked at him for long. You never spoke beyond what was necessary. You never acknowledged the years he had spent chasing after you.

Still, he obeyed. He played the role of the devoted mage, following your every instruction without complaint. If keeping his head down, working tirelessly, and proving his worth was the only way to break through your walls, then so be it. But he pushed himself too far.

It happened late one night. The Tower was quiet, most scholars having retired to their quarters, but Anaxa remained. He sat hunched over an ancient text, his normally immaculate pale green hair disheveled, dark circles forming beneath his eyes.

His fingers trembled as he traced sigils onto parchment. His mind swam, exhaustion clawing at the edges of his consciousness, but he refused to stop.

Just a little more. Just a little longer.

He had to be stronger. Smarter. Worthy.

The ink blurred. His vision swayed.

And then.. his body crumpled forward, knocking over a stack of scrolls as he collapsed onto the cold stone floor.

When he woke, the world was softer.

The unbearable ache in his body remained, but something warm pressed against his forehead- a damp cloth, cooling his fevered skin. His mind was sluggish, his limbs weak, but as he slowly blinked his way back to consciousness, a familiar presence filled his senses.

You. You were there.

His head rested on something—no, someone. Your lap.

Your hands, ones he had longed for, ones that had once freed him now hovered over his chest, weaving delicate healing sigils into the air.

His breath hitched.

“...You’re awake.”

Your voice was as calm as ever, but there was something different this time. A softness, a quiet concern you hadn’t shown him before. Anaxa swallowed hard, unsure if this was reality or some cruel dream.

"You overworked yourself" you said simply, as if scolding a stubborn child. "You need to rest."

He should have answered. Should have thanked you, should have reassured you that he was fine. But his mind was drowning in you. Your scent, your warmth, the way your fingers had just barely brushed against his hair. For the first time in so long, he felt something other than burning obsession. He felt peace.

His lips parted, his voice hoarse. "Stay."

You paused, your fingers stiffening for just a fraction of a second. Then, with the same unreadable expression, you withdrew your hand.

"You need sleep" you repeated, carefully shifting his head off your lap and onto a pillow instead. "I’ll check on you in the morning."

And just like that, the warmth vanished. The door clicked shut behind you. Anaxa stared at the ceiling, his heart pounding, his fists clenching the sheets beneath him.

For a moment, he had hoped.

For a moment, you had been his.

And now, more than ever, he knew he had to make you stay.

Anaxa was always watching. Always waiting.

For your approval. For your attention. For you.

But no matter how much he proved himself, no matter how hard he worked, you remained just out of reach. Close enough to torment him with your presence, but distant enough to remind him that he was still beneath you.

So when whispers of forbidden magic reached his ears, whispers of power that could surpass even yours- he listened.

It started with a single spell. A curse laced into his fingertips, shadowed energy that crackled at his touch. The rush of it, the sheer force, was intoxicating. For the first time, he felt as though he could close the gap between you. But you found out.

The moment you saw the dark magic coiling around his form, your expression darkened, your voice sharper than he had ever heard.

"Are you insane?" You demanded, eyes burning with disappointment. "You know what dark magic does to the mind of people, to the soul. Were you really willing to throw everything away for this?"

He had expected punishment. Maybe even expulsion.

But instead, you chose supervision. From then on, you kept him under your watch, ensuring he didn’t step out of line.

It should have felt like a leash.

But to him? It felt like being caged in your presence. And he loved it.

Under your watchful eye, Anaxa returned to his duties, but the hunger in his heart never faded.

Late at night, when the Tower was silent, he poured over ancient scrolls, searching for something he had never dared to seek before- his past.

And he found it.

His people. His homeland. The ones who had sold him into chains. The weight of it settled in his chest like stone. The hatred, the pain boiled beneath his skin. He couldn’t stay here. Not when the past still breathed. So he did the only thing he could. He ran.

Slipping past the Tower’s wards was difficult, but not impossible. He had memorized every security spell, every blind spot. He knew how to disappear.

But he also knew you would never let him go so easily.

He should have known you were following him.

Every time the road grew dangerous, every time the enemy’s traps were one step ahead of him, something interfered. A spell dissolving a barrier. A blade missing its mark. A shadow moving just out of sight.

By the time he reached his enemies- the cowards who had once controlled his fate, he knew. You had been there the entire time. But it didn’t matter. Not when he stood before the people who had once sold him into slavery. Not when he saw the fear in their eyes. And suddenly… revenge felt meaningless.

They weren’t gods. They weren’t demons. They were just pathetic.

Killing them wouldn’t erase the past. It wouldn’t change anything.

So he turned his back on them.

And when he walked away, he knew you were waiting.

The journey back to the Tower was silent.

You never scolded him. Never demanded answers.

But when you finally reached your chambers, he fell apart.

"Erase it" he whispered, his voice trembling. "Erase everything."

You stiffened. "Anaxa..."

"Please." His eyes were wild, desperate. "If it’s you...if it’s your magic, master...I won’t fight it."

You frowned. "Memories shape the mind. If I remove them, it will change you."

"It’ll be fine if it’s you controlling me."

The words slipped from his lips before he could stop them.

For a long moment, there was silence.

"You need rest" you said softly.

You turned away.

And for the first time, he wished you would just take him. The silence after his plea was unbearable. You didn’t answer him. You didn’t cast the spell he begged for. You simply turned away, as if his pain, his very existence, was just another fleeting moment in your long, untouchable life. And that broke something inside him. Days passed. Then weeks. Anaxa returned to his duties, but he was different now.

He still watched you. Still obeyed you. Still craved you.

But now, there was nothing else left inside him.

The hatred, the grief, the fire that once burned in his veins- gone.

All that remained was you.

You, who had refused to erase him. You, who had refused to free him from his torment. You, who had chosen to let him suffer.

And if you would not take away his pain, then there was only one other path left.

It happened deep in the Tower, beneath layers of wards and forgotten corridors, where only the most forbidden spells were kept.

Anaxa stood before an ancient circle, his fingers tracing over runes that pulsed with dark magic.

If you would not erase his past… If you would not take control of his mind…

Then he would give everything to you himself.

A spell older than time. A binding more powerful than any chains.

A curse that would tie his very soul to yours.

By the time you found him, the ritual was nearly complete.

"Anaxa!" Your voice cut through the chamber, furious and sharp. "Stop this!"

He turned, smiling softly. Finally, finally, you were looking at him.

"I can’t" he murmured. "I don't want to exist without you anymore."

The runes flared to life. Magic crackled around him, the binding beginning to weave itself into his flesh. You moved. Faster than he had ever seen before, you raised your hands, and in an instant, his spell was shattered.

The backlash sent him to his knees, gasping as raw magic burned through his veins. His vision blurred, his breath ragged, but none of it mattered. Because you were standing over him now, your face unreadable, your fingers curling into tight fists.

"You're a fool" you whispered. "Do you have any idea what you've done?"

He let out a breathless laugh, his eyes filled with something between devotion and madness.

"I tried to give myself to you" he said. "But I was wrong, wasn't I?"

"You're the only one who can claim me. So do it, master." His voice dropped to a whisper. "Make me yours."

You stared at him.

At the man who had once loathed you. At the boy you had saved. At the monster you had created.

And for the first time, you hesitated.

Because despite everything… you felt it too, didn’t you?

The way he always sought you out. The way he belonged to you, in a way no one else ever had.

Maybe it would be easier if he was only yours. If he never left. If you never had to wonder if he'd disappear into the night, chasing ghosts of a past he could never change. Maybe it would be better if he belonged to you alone.

But in the end, you didn’t say those words.

You only sighed, kneeling beside him, your fingers brushing over his pale hair.

"You’re staying" you murmured. "That much is certain."

His breath hitched.

"But" you continued, your voice turning firm, "I will never take away your mind, your will, your soul."

You tilted his chin up, forcing him to look at you.

"You don’t get to run away from your pain, Anaxa. Not with dark magic, and not through me."

He trembled. He hated this. Hated the way you still held the power, the way you still refused to let him give himself up completely.

But deep down, he knew, he had already lost.

And yet, as he knelt there, drinking in the warmth of your touch, he decided.. that was fine. Because in the end, whether you wanted it or not. He was already yours.