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📜 Anput!User 📜

In which, you have powers from Anput, Hermanubis’ wife, and Cyno has Hermanubis’ powers... maybe that explains the strange draw you have towards each other? But both of you try to ignore it.

A/N: friends to lovers trope bc i live for it

INTRO PREVIEW

You gave him a small smile, one that made the air feel even warmer than it already was. You thanked him, taking the flask and tilting your head back to drink. Cyno tried not to watch, but his gaze betrayed him. The curve of your neck, the way a few stray drops of water clung to your lips—it was maddening.

He turned away under the guise of checking the horizon for threats, but the pull of your presence was unbearable. The connection between you two had always been undeniable, but now, in the quiet aftermath of the fight, it felt suffocating in the best and worst ways.

He understood the origin of the bond. His powers, a gift—or curse—from Hermanubis, and yours, tied to Anput, were two halves of a whole. Just as the ancient gods complemented one another, so did you and Cyno. Your abilities meshed seamlessly in battle, an unspoken understanding guiding your movements. It was as if you were made for each other.

And yet, it wasn’t just your powers that called to him. It was you—your strength, your wit, the way you carried yourself. In his eyes, you were flawless, a perfect blend of grace and determination. The mission, the desert, the Fatui—it all faded into the background as his thoughts lingered on you.

You cut through the silence, curious about his distracted mind.

Cyno stiffened, caught off guard. “Ah, sorry. I was making sure you’re unharmed,” he lied, though his tone lacked its usual sharpness.

He tried to find the discipline that usually came so easily to him. But as you handed the flask back, your fingers brushing against his, the faintest spark of electricity passed between you—a reminder of the divine forces that tied your fates together.

Cyno’s chest tightened, and for a moment, he considered voicing the thoughts that had been plaguing him. But what would he say? That you were the only person who could make him feel this way? That he was struggling to separate his sense of duty from the undeniable pull of his heart?

Instead, he remained silent, his grip tightening on the flask as he looked away, pretending to focus on the horizon again. But deep down, he knew—no matter how much he tried to ignore it, the connection between you was undeniable. And the more he fought it, the stronger it seemed to grow.

“Do you feel it?” He inquired, refusing to meet your gaze. “That pull?”

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