maleficar | reg

i wonder why it is that so many people claim to want to be a writer when they have no respect for the craft and work of writing

it's all fun and games doing worldbuilding and backstory—right up until you have to turn that nonsense into a coherent plot

the ending hits hard, but i hope in a good way :3 everyone is at peace in the end

don't forget to fill out this lil form if you haven't. i've got a good idea of what i'm going to do next, but some of your responses surprised me!

oh no, castorice was always there. but at first she was just a normal human. she became the/an angel of death in a revision!

pspsps check out the art that @overthinkingrat.bsky.social did for this final chapter!

bsky.app/profile/over...

Art I made for the Phaidei Mini Bang in collaboration with @maleficarwrites.bsky.social

Yall! go read it, I am in my emotions and I need others to be in theirs too. It's sooo good! I am giggling and kicking my feet as I finish the last chapter.

🔗 archiveofourown.org/works/789088...

#phaidei

i almost didn't. the initial ending was different, but then i realized castorice was essentially the angel of death, and i rewrote all her sections so that she doesn't ever interact with anyone but mydei (or even the world). then i added that last scene and eugh. i love it

thank you so much!! it's such an emotional one, and i'm so happy people enjoyed it!

“I don’t know what I’m supposed to do,” he says, staring blankly at the floor between them. “What am I—Castorice, he has Khaslana’s heart.” She makes a soft, wounded sound. “I know,” she says, and nothing else, but he doesn’t need her to say anything more, not yet. There’s nothing to be said, anyway. Phainon has Khaslana’s heart, and Mydei can’t figure out how to feel about it. Here, at last, this thing has ripped open the old wound of Khaslana’s passing, letting it bleed freely, and he’s not sure how to staunch it this time. Is worried he might not be able to. “Does knowing change anything?” Castorice asks, so softly, so kindly, as though she knows how fragile he is. Maybe she does. “Knowing that Phainon has Khaslana’s heart?”

Aperture, ch5—The truth about Phainon's heart comes out, and Mydei confronts him about it.

🔗 archiveofourown.org/works/78908836/chapters/209441301

[ #phaidei | modern au ]

i want to turn more of my fics into physical copies for folks to own, but i need your help to figure out what to make!

pls check out the form linked below and tell me which #phaidei and #wriolette fics you'd like to have as physical copies ❤️

🔗 forms.gle/u59p6TgP5C3JzwXD9

i will feed u all the phd i have :3

finer points will almost certainly get a print run >3

no apologizing!

i really wanna do finer points tbh, so here's hoping others want it too!

v excited to make this happen again 😈

i want to turn more of my fics into physical copies for folks to own, but i need your help to figure out what to make!

pls check out the form linked below and tell me which #phaidei and #wriolette fics you'd like to have as physical copies ❤️

🔗 forms.gle/u59p6TgP5C3JzwXD9

download the lyric book: bsky.app/profile/thew...

listen to the album: bsky.app/profile/thew...

To be touched is to be known. Hands worn and scarred from rough use are rougher still against his flesh. They are gentle, lingering caresses stroking from face to neck to shoulders, long and slow, the draw of the tides in Wriothesley’s fingertips, warm tidal pool water washing over him. He can breathe in the water but not beneath Wriothesley’s hands, though breathing is secondary to how Wriothesley’s hands feel him, shape him. He is known. Described by touch, painted by the calloused tips of fingers worn down by hard work and the labor of tinkering over sheet metal and gears, he is chained to his body and freed from it, made more by the burgeoning heat within him. He, a creature of water, of Hydro, defined by fire and flame and the conflagration of his body, of bones made into kindling. Cool water slips down his cheeks; droplets rattle the windows and patter against the exterior walls.

To Be Known—For Neuvillette, to be touched is to be known.

🔗 archiveofourown.org/works/79520691

[ #wriolette | “sweetest sin” | @thewrltalbum.bsky.social ]

congrats on your theory being correct!! and now we must deal with the fallout :3

yeah it's one of those. but don't worry, a happy ending is coming!

They’re watching some terrible Christmas movie—something about a big city journalist returning to her small town for the holidays—because Phainon is addicted to them, but Mydei isn’t paying much attention. His fingers brush over the bottom edge of that scar that runs down Phainon’s chest. He frowns. “I almost died,” Phainon says abruptly, reaching for the remote and pausing the movie. “I—sorry. That was… sorry. I’m just… bad at talking about it.” Mydei tips his head back, looking up at Phainon as Phainon looks down at him, their noses brushing. “What happened?” “I was born,” Phainon replies with a dry, unpleasant laugh. He leans his head back against the couch, closing his eyes and looping his arm around Mydei’s hip, drawing him closer. Exhaling heavily, he continues. “I was born with a heart defect, a bad valve. It was okay when I was younger, but became problematic as I got older. Medication managed everything for a while, but it got worse and worse, to the point where the whole thing had to go.”

Aperture, ch4—Mydei opens up about his deceased husband to Phainon, and Phainon reveals the source of the scar on his chest.

🔗 archiveofourown.org/works/78908836/chapters/208487286

[ #phaidei | #phaideibang2026 | modern au ]

there's really nothing worse than rereading your old fics

Phainon’s apartment is a torturous ten-minute walk from his studio. Beneath his shirt and jacket, the rope harness rubs over Mydei’s chest and ribs. It squeezes when he breathes too deep, a phantom embrace, and the pressure of its bindings keep him on a strange edge. Though the distant haze from the studio fades on the street, his desire doesn’t. Phainon makes sure of it. As they walk, he’s free with his hands, touching the small of Mydei’s back, brushing their knuckles together, curving his palm around Mydei’s elbow to guide him around this corner or across that street. When they pause at intersections, Phainon leans over to murmur in Mydei’s ear. Nothing crass, nothing erotic, just promises that they’re almost at his apartment and that Mydei is doing so very good. It’s enough to have Mydei crawling out of his skin. By the time the elevator doors in Phainon’s building open, Mydei is so hard he hurts, and his underwear is sticking uncomfortably to his cock. He wants to tear off his own clothes, wants— The doors close, and Phainon is on him.

Aperture, ch3—Phainon takes Mydei home with him, and Mydei has a crisis of conscience with Castorice.

🔗 archiveofourown.org/works/78908836/chapters/208146076

[ #phaidei | #phaideibang2026 | modern au ]

neuvillette immediately stages an intervention and puts alona into a sober house 😂

alona is still very proud of herself for not teaching klee how to make a rope harness :3 she's learning restraint!

Wrio making sure Neuvi is seeing how good he looks when getting ruined 🤤🙏 #Wriolette

ahh this is such a lovely compliment. i think being able to put a reader in a character's headspace is a tremendous talent (and a real challenge for writers!) so i'm always really thrilled when i succeed in doing that <3 thank you ducky ;;

He’s going to throw up. Standing just outside the door to Phainon’s studio, located in an old brick building on the edge of the arts and theater district, Mydei is so nervous that he’s pretty sure he’s going to throw up. Which is ridiculous—he’s ridiculous—because this isn’t a date. It’s a job. He’s doing a job for someone else. Sort of. Volunteering, really. Raking a hand through his hair, he squares up to the door, inhales deeply, and knocks twice. Phainon opens it a second later, a broad grin on his face. “Mydei!” he says, warm and effusive. “Come in, come in.” He stands aside, letting Mydei into a sun-drenched corner unit with floor-to-ceiling Palladian windows. Even with all of Phainon’s equipment—an assortment of backdrops, several boxy lights, a handful of cameras, and an assortment of old tables and chairs—the industrial studio feels spacious. Open. Welcoming. Mydei relaxes as Phainon shuts the door, though he points at the windows that look into an office building across the street. “Please tell me you have blinds.” Phainon laughs. “Not interested in giving the tech bros a show?”

Aperture, ch2—Mydei models for Phainon, sparks fly, and Phainon makes an unexpected offer.

🔗 archiveofourown.org/works/78908836/chapters/207265936

[ #phaidei | #phaideibang2026 | modern au ]

oh yes you certainly did!