Shenluen



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    “Glad to see you back among the living,” Phainon says through a yawn, clearly having spent the night in the uncomfortable chair in the infirmary by Mydei’s side. Like he often does.

    Mydei’s head hurts. Just the regular kind of pain, easily managed by ignoring it until it goes away. But what makes it worse, is the confusion at his predicament. The memories returning to him in death used to vary in time and people who appeared in them. Why is it always Phainon nowadays?

    “Fuck you,” Mydei says, hoarsely. He feels like he is losing his mind.

    Phainon’s mouth locks mid-yawn and he blinks down at him stupidly, tilting his head with confusion. It’s probably fair, he hasn’t even done anything to earn Mydei’s ire as of late.

     

    or; Human brain lives for a few more minutes after dying, replaying the most cherished memories. Mydei starts seeing Phainon after each of his deaths.

     

    Translation into Russian (Русский) available: here
    Translation into Chinese (中文-普通话 國語) available: here

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    13 Dec 2025

  2. Public Bookmark 74

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    “What did you think of the concert, Phainon?”

    Phainon’s lips quirk up ruefully.

    “It was exhilarating as always. None of your sets ever gets old.”

    “And me?” he asks curiously. His hands clench into fists. “What does it look like while I’m on the stage?”

    The smile fades. Phainon bites his lips. His knuckles are white where they grip the yoke.

    “You look untouchable when you’re on the stage,” he says, the words resigned and sad. “Like a force of nature.”

    (It takes Mydei and Phainon eight plane rides to make their way home.)

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    10 Dec 2025

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    Phainon's expression doesn't change, still blank and almost as if he's looking through Mydei. He doesn't like it.

    "Are you alright?" He asks, kicking at his thigh lightly.

    Phainon hums, gaze still thousands of years away before it refocuses sharply on Mydei. "When am I not?" He asks, lips tilting in what's shaping up to be a smirk.

    "Do you want me to answer that?" Mydei asks drily, crossing his arms.

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    04 Dec 2025

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    He turns to Mydei, letting a gentle smile curve on his lips. Mydei’s eyes narrow to slits.

    “Hello there,” Phainon greets softly. He crouches down, inching closer. Mydei doesn’t budge, only tenses like a tightly coiled spring. “My name is Phainon. You’re Mydeimos, right?”

    Mydei doesn’t respond, lips pressed tightly shut. Phainon’s smile wavers, chest squeezing tight.

    “No one’s going to hurt you here,” he murmurs, extending his arm out. Mydei growls. Fear flashes through his eyes for a fleeting second, but it’s enough to have Phainon freezing in place, breath catching in his throat.

    (A mishap at the Abyss of Fate leaves Mydei a child whose only memories are of the Sea of Souls.)

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    13 Nov 2025

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    Phainon wakes to his Phaidei account exploding with notifications, a small war in his comments section, and half the people convinced he’s running the Phaidei account, with the top reply being:

    Deliberber @phaifan33550336
    replying to @phaidei
    Dawg look at my deliverer shipping himself with Mydeimos we’re cooked

    It’s enough for him to click on his Weaver account in a frenzied panic, scroll to the settings, and click “delete”—mashing all the buttons, captchas, and “deletes” until he finally sees the “This account no longer exists” on his page.

    “Oh my god,” he mutters, heart racing. He chucks his teleslate on his bed and flops back down.

    (In which Phainon, an idol, attempts to run a fan account shipping himself with his childhood best friend, Mydeimos—another idol.)

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    13 Nov 2025