add a song for each letter of your username and tag as many people as there are letters
j - just because you can by machine girl
u - uncle joey's outro by peelingflesh
g - goreshit - fine night (telemist remix)
g - groovehouse - szavakon túl/falunapi dodgem pályás edition by végrehajtó (THIS VERSION ON SOUNDCLOUD AND THIS VERSION ONLY!!!!! it tickles my brain so hard)
a - all inclusive resort by vladimir dubyshkin
l - lawnmower man by kfc murder chicks
o - omojbožejao by viking krew
h - heavy mad by lil texas
i - in paradisum by forss
d - die liebe kommt nicht aus berlin by brutalismus 3000
a - autópályát szétszakítós verőmix (skype service 24/7)
n - négyhat xddd (doktor szex remix)
thank you for the tag @marabout2772 ✌️😌
tagging: @nearlysurvived @kisskisame ......and knuckles (literally anyone who wants to do this. you can @ me too. i dont know who to tagAAAHHHHHHHHH)
e - Euclid by Sleep Token Even in Arcadia by Sleep Token Everywhere I Go by Hollywood Undead
k - Kansas City by The Mowgli's
o - On My Youth by WayV
o - (the) Only Hope For Me Is You by My Chemical Romance
l - light this graveyard by emily jeffri
a - American Idiot by Green Day
i - It's Got A Ring To It by VOILA
d - Dream Catcher by Set It Off
(tried to avoid duplicate artists as a personal challenge but considering the Sleep Token brainworms rn i probs could've used them for half of these... lmao)
14 letters = tag 14 people?! uhhhhh oh boy LMAO - taggingggg @kae-karo @sellyoursoulforagoodname @yatgb @spiral-head @theghostofashton @depressed-n-stuff @threedaysgross @sundiced @takeunknownroadnow @icarusbrightside @starlightswait @habitina @royallyducked and @geometricalien - some of y'all have longer URLs than even i do so good luck if you choose to play HAHA
tried to get diversity in artists but i just want you to know i could've done this entire thing with ethel cain songs <3 8 letters = 8 people so ahhhhh @steppingstar @aocello @miyamiwu @glittersoup12 @missiletoe @stormyrainyday @kkachi-serica @emeraldgryn (no pressure given that I think almost all of you have longer usernames than me lmao)
the air still carries the scent of rain when you and your boyfriend decide to go for a walk in the park — a spontaneous choice born out of your boredom. the ground is damp, smaller and larger cavities filled with dirty, muddy puddles.
eventually you sit down on a bench, surprisingly dry, sheltered by an old, sprawling tree whose branches spread overhead like an umbrella. and that’s when you notice how dirty your shoes are.
“oh nooo,” you say, your tone slightly gloomy.
“what is it?” comes his response. he's instantly alarmed, worry carved deep into his handsome face. “what happened? are you hurt?”
“no,” you shake your head. “I got my shoes dirty,” you sigh, lifting your straightened legs into the air and tilting your feet from side to side. “I don’t even know when it happened, I swear I avoided every puddle.”
“calm down, we’ll fix it,” he says, not losing that flustered tone, his gaze glued to your shoes as if hypnotized. though you’re not sure whether he’s trying to calm you or himself.
any normal person would pull out a tissue at this point. or say it’s no big deal. but not him. never him.
in the blink of an eye he crouches by your knees, grabbing your ankles and gently pulling your slightly dirty shoes toward his face. but he doesn’t pull out a tissue. instead, he sticks out his tongue, inching closer to your shoes with every passing millisecond.
“STOP!” you shout, perfectly timed just before the moment when two surfaces that should never, ever meet are about to touch. “don’t you dare!”
“what?” he asks, confused. his still extended tongue slightly distorts his speech.
and he even has the audacity to be surprised. as if he genuinely doesn’t understand what he was doing wrong. his partner needed immediate help — was he supposed not to react? leave you in need? oh no. only cold and heartless boyfriends behave like that. he acted on impulse, even at the cost of his own health, image, and dignity.
“don’t interrupt me, I’m not finished yet,” and this time his tongue makes contact with the tip of your shoe.
“mmm, I could really go for some ice cream,” you say, trying to save the situation.
“oh. of course, darling,” he takes the bait, not questioning your weird and sudden change in topics. “I can even buy you the whole ice cream shop if you want.”
“ugh, I’m sooo cold!” a whine slips out from beneath the blanket you’ve just finished fixing. a moment later, your boyfriend’s voice becomes clearer and more distinct (at least as much as a clogged nose and a throat that sounds like someone’s dragged a cheese grater through it will allow) as he peeks his head out from under the warm, thick cover.
dark curls, damp with feverish sweat, cling to his forehead, and his eyes, though foggy and not as sharp as usual, still drill into you with a look of intense, unrestrained need. as if the illness had only fueled the already turbulent feelings he harbored for you.
his hands soon follow his head. stretched out toward you like a dog begging for a treat, they tug the blanket even lower, revealing a gray T-shirt plastered to his body.
“if only there were someone here who could share their warmth with me,” he continues, oversaturating his voice with desperation and pleading.
“and I’m supposed to risk catching whatever you have inside you?” you shake your head. instead of granting his request, you set a glass of hot tea and freshly cut fruit on the nightstand. “forget it. you shouldn’t have run to the apartment at breakneck speed without an umbrella. sooner or later I would’ve replied anyway.”
you lean over him and place a hand on his forehead. “when was the last time you took your temperature?”
he furrows his brows, and for a moment you almost let yourself believe he’s genuinely trying to dig the answer out of his memory. but no. with him, nothing was ever straightforward.
you don’t need an X-ray to see the sick machinery in his head grinding through the question. you need it even less when scarlet blooms across your boyfriend’s cheeks, his smile stretches wide, and something sharper than the typical feverish glaze flashes in his eyes. no. your boyfriend has come up with a brilliant idea.
“what?” you ask, knowing that expression all too well, though now exaggerated by illness.
“my germs, hah, in your body. only mine, hehe.”
“maybe we should take your temperature, okay?”
“no, nooo. darling, I need to infect you. I don’t want any other germs in your body. only, haaah, mine.”
“what are you even babbling about, man, AAAA—”
he doesn’t let you finish. your sentence is cut short, your verdict already decided. a mind ravaged by fever has apparently deemed this the greatest idea in the world, one that must be put into action immediately.
with strength seemingly pulled straight out of nowhere, he yanks you by the elbow right onto himself, holding the blanket up with his free hand and cushioning your fall with his body. he immediately pulls the cover over both of you, and to make absolutely sure you don’t get any silly ideas about escaping, he latches onto you like a starving leech. he wraps his arms around your back, tangles his legs with yours — anything to keep you with him.
and as if sensing that you’re about to start protesting, he starts kissing you. fast and messy, all over your face, until he finally focuses on your lips, bombarding them with kisses. and when that’s no longer enough for him, when the mission takes on the character of personal need and a greedy, unsated whimper slips from his mouth after every kiss, his tongue joins the offensive as well. he tries to push it into your mouth, to finish the job and fill you with himself in a very unconventional way, and when you don’t let him, he simply drags it over your lips instead.
“ugh, enough!”
you grab his hair, pulling him away, but even that isn’t enough to wipe the dreamy, satisfied smile off his face. he’s already gotten what he wanted.
“my germs or nobody’s germs,” he murmurs, completely unfazed by your attempts to wriggle out of his embrace. in fact, it has the opposite effect. your boyfriend starts gently nuzzling your collarbones, your sternum, and the crook of your neck like he intended to crawl under your skin. “hmmm, I hope they stay in you forever.”
who is a lone wolf, living off odd jobs. impartial, traveling from one small town to the next, never able to settle anywhere for long. maybe no longer even capable of it — childish dreams of finding a permanent partner long since worn away by the sands of desert steppes.
until you find him. a being in need of an escort to a city several days’ journey away. you manage to purchase his services, not noticing how beneath his leather cap gears begin to turn. gears he was never aware of before.
because suddenly, he realizes how good it feels to have someone tend to his wounds after an ambush by his old enemy. someone who changes the bandages with gentleness and care. someone who keeps watch at night, letting him sleep peacefully for the first time in ages. someone who listens. who is simply there.
he strikes a match of feeling in his heart for you, and you, unaware, pour gasoline over it.
suddenly, companionship born from a commission becomes pleasure rather than obligation. and the more he learns about you, the more he understands how good he feels at your side. and then, one morning, when he wakes to find you still sitting by the campfire, he realizes he wouldn’t mind continuing this game of pretending to be partners. maybe for a few more days, when he deliberately chooses a longer route. maybe for a few more weeks, when you have to stay in one town because he’s “run out” of tobacco. or maybe forever — when, the day before reaching your destination, he makes the decision that solitude is no longer enough for him. that he wants something more than traveling from town to town, gambling away his money, fleeting sex, and never having a place of his own. he wants a future and he can only imagine it with you.
you never reach the agreed-upon town that day. awakened at dawn, you find yourself seated on his horse, with him settling in just behind you, telling you that you have to flee. that it isn’t safe here, and that he knows a place where you can wait out the uncertain times.
when he pulls you tightly against him, you can no longer tell the rhythm of the horse’s hooves from the beat of his heart, nor the first rays of the sun from the searingly hot kisses he presses to your neck and face.
I love how remarried empress commenters are all for "Your tragic backstory isn't an excuse for your bad behavior" Until its Ergi getting his widdle origin story
Now its "Ergi had every right to crash out! Trashta reminds him of Alessia!"
Yeah that's a valid excuse for preying on other vulnerable women alright.
Nothing like abandoning your so called morals for sad boy am I right?
How would the ghouls react if they were about to confess to MC/reader and then MC suddenly says something like "no one would say yes if I asked them out anyways" or something along those lines DO YOU SEE THE VISION
anyway! this can just be headcanons for them, and ghouls can be whoever you think is most interesting (Subaru, Romeo, Yuri?)
anywayyy I hope you have a wonderful day and if you're not comfortable writing this please do not in any way feel obliged to answer this request <3
YES I SEE THE VISION. I did this short-fic style for each ghoul! I hope you like it!
No One Would Say Yes Anyways
Featured ghouls: Subaru Kagami, Romeo Scorpius Lucci, Yuri Isami
🌸—————————————————🌸
Subaru Kagami:
Subaru had rehearsed it.
Not out loud—never out loud—but in the quiet spaces between heartbeats. The words sat heavy in his chest while he walked beside you, hands folded tight in his sleeves, nerves buzzing under his skin.
He was just about to speak when you laughed softly and said, almost offhandedly—
“Honestly? No one would say yes if I asked them out anyway.”
He stops.
Not dramatically. Just… freezes. Like something inside him cracked so suddenly he didn’t know how to move around it.
“That’s not—” he starts, then falters. His voice drops. “Why would you say that?”
You shrug. “It’s just how it is. People don’t really—”
Subaru turns to you then, eyes wide and earnest and a little hurt. “That’s not true.”
You blink. “Subaru—”
“I would,” he blurts, immediately flushing. “I mean—! I mean I already— I’ve already thought about it, so—”
He presses his hands to his face, mortified. “I’m sorry. That was abrupt. I didn’t mean to make it weird.”
You stare at him.
He peeks at you through his fingers. “…But I would say yes. In a heartbeat. I think about it a lot. Probably too much. And I know I’m not very impressive and my stigma is unpleasant and—”
You take his hands gently, pulling them away from his face.
“Subaru,” you say softly.
He swallows. “…You don’t have to ask,” he says, voice trembling but sincere. “I already chose you.”
“No one would say yes if I asked them out anyway.”
He stares at you like you’ve just insulted a luxury brand to his face.
“…Excuse me?” he says sharply.
You glance at him, startled. “What?”
Romeo scoffs, offended on a cosmic level. “That’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard all week—and I deal with that BTH.”
You try to laugh it off, but he steps closer, eyes sharp, voice low.
“Do you have any idea how many people would crawl over broken glass for a chance with you?”
“That’s not—”
“I would,” he snaps immediately, then pauses.
His expression shifts—annoyance giving way to something rawer.
“…I was going to ask you,” he admits stiffly. “Tonight. This was supposed to be impressive.”
You blink. “Romeo…”
He exhales sharply, rubbing his temple. “You have terrible taste if you think you’re unlovable,” he mutters. Then, quieter: “And even worse judgment if you didn’t realize I’m already completely invested.”
He straightens, chin lifted. “So ask me.”
You hesitate. “Ask you…?”
“Out,” he says, rolling his eyes. “Unless you plan on rejecting me, which would be financially devastating.”
You smile. “Romeo… would you go out with me?”
He smirks—soft, genuine. “Obviously.”
💉—————————————————💉
Yuri Isami:
Yuri was already wound too tight.
He’d been pacing, rehearsing, muttering corrections to himself under his breath. This was important. Confessions were not something one improvised.
Then you sigh and say—
“No one would say yes if I asked them out anyway.”
The silence that follows is loud.
Yuri turns slowly. “What.”
You wince. “I didn’t mean—”
“That is factually incorrect,” he says immediately, flustered. “Statistically, emotionally, logically—incorrect.”
You blink at his intensity.
“I would,” he blurts. Then immediately panics. “I mean—! Hypothetically. If you asked. Which you haven’t. Obviously. This is not a confession. I had a plan—!”
His face is red now, hands clenched. “Do you have any idea how hard it was for me to even consider saying this? And you just—just dismiss yourself like that?”
You soften. “Yuri…”
He looks away, voice cracking despite himself. “…I know I’m difficult. And intense. And not easy to be around. But I care. Deeply. And it hurts to hear you talk about yourself like you don’t matter.”
Then, barely above a whisper: “I would say yes. Every time.”
You step closer. “Then I’ll ask.”
He snaps his head up. “You will?”
You smile. “Yuri Isami… would you like to go out with me?”
He freezes—then straightens, pride warring with emotion.
“…Yes,” he says firmly. “Obviously. I accept.”
Then, much quieter: “…Thank you for choosing me.”
~~~~
Tag list: @genevathekitty @sh0jun @elfes-materia @edwardhartenjoyer @glamorousspoon
Phainon does not realize he’s doing it, that’s the thing.
If someone sat him down and said, “Heyyy buddy, you talk about your spouse an unreasonable amount” he would blink, genuinely surprised, and go “I do?” before immediately following it up with, “Well, Dawnlight is remarkable...” smiling shyly while rubbing the back of his head. And that would be the end of the conversation!
It starts after you leave Okhema it first it wasn't in a dramatic way,no grand collapse. No visible unraveling, no sobbing on his knees, just…little things, gaps he doesn’t know how to leave empty.
The light over Okhema never fades, but it changes. Shifts in tone, in warmth, in sharpness and Phainon notices these changes more now since he doesn't have your pretty face to look at and giggle about all day..
“This is the kind of light Dawnlight prefers” he says during patrol one day, gaze drifting upward “Dawnlight likes it. Says it’s easier on the eyes..” Someone hums politely and someone else nods, no one thinks much of it.
But the next patrol, he does it again, then again, and again and again and again and—
By the end of the week, one of the guards quietly mutters, “He’s doing the thing again..” and another guard replies “Just give it ten seconds, he'll stop after a while” as they count under their breath.
But Phainon doesn’t notice the looks or maybe he does and just he doesn’t care because saying your name out loud makes the space beside him feel less wrong, like he’s trying to remember what your presence feels like, like you’re still here, just slightly out of reach.
In meetings, he leans over maps with that familiar furrowed brow, expression serious, thoughtful. “If Dawnlight were here” he says, tapping a route, “they’d tell us this path is too obvious”
A strategist hesitates. “Is…that based on previous data?” Phainon smiles “Based on knowing them!” The meeting moves on.
The Trailblazer meets him a few days later, already bracing themselves...Because traveling with Phainon is…a lot, it turns out.
The group pauses at a small plaza where sunlight glints off polished stone, casting gentle patterns across the ground. Phainon stops mid-step, hands clasped behind his back, staring off as though he’s lost in thought.
“Do you think…” he starts, then clears his throat. “Do you think Dawnlight would like this place?”
The Trailblazer tilts their head. “Uh…the plaza? Sure?”
Phainon shakes his head slightly, as if the answer isn’t enough. “No, I mean the light, the way it feels underfoot, the way the wind carries sound, they always notice little things like that.”
Dan Heng mutters under his breath, “We’re not here to impress your spouse”
Phainon doesn’t hear. He’s already crouching to examine a fountain at the center of the plaza, fingers brushing the water’s edge. “They’d probably sit here for an hour just watching it flow. And I’d—” He stops, flush rising to his ears “I’d make sure the water’s not too cold before they put their foot in and then maybe they'll give me a little kiss on my cheek for caring about them—”
The Trailblazer blinks. “You really like daydreaming about them huh..” Phainon straightens, embarrassed. “Yes! Of course! I-uh.. I just…I like thinking about how they’d react..”
Dan Heng pinches the bridge of his nose, turning away. As Phainon leans against the fountain, shoulders relaxing, voice soft. “I wish they were here, just for a moment, I’d show them everything..”
The Trailblazer exchanges a glance with Dan Heng, Dan Heng sighs “He’s impossible.” Phainon doesn’t hear either of them. He’s already murmuring, almost to himself, “They’d smile at this, I know it, I just know it…” And just like that, the plaza becomes smaller, quieter, warmer, because Phainon’s whole world is still centered on you, even when you’re not here (loser)
The first puzzle happens a few hours later. Ancient mechanism, stubborn as hell, Dan Heng studies it carefully meanwhile Trailblazer pokes at a lever.
Phainon doesn’t even hesitate. “If Dawnlight were here, they’d finish this in one try!” The Trailblazer snorts “Sure...”
“I’m serious!” Phainon says, earnest. “They’re very good at this sort of thing!” he says with his whole chest, looking all proud while bragging about you.
Dan Heng pauses “…Phainon”
“Yes?”
“…Never mind”
At first, it’s kind of cute! He sounds fond, not distraught. He smiles when he talks about you. There’s no bitterness, no anger just this constant, low level missing humming under everything he says.
But then it keeps happening, every obstacle turns into a story, every quiet moment turns into a memory. “This path is narrow” Phainon remarks. “I usually walk ahead in tight spaces like these to make sure it's safe for Dawnlight”
“You don’t have to, we're not them..” the Trailblazer says. “I know! ” he replies, cheerful “I just want to, it brings Beautiful memories of how I hold their hand while they lean on me from behind and—” Dan Heng exhales slowly through his nose.
Rest phases are the worst, there’s no night sure but there are intervals where the light softens, where people slow down, where bodies are supposed to reset even if the world never fully rests.
They sit beneath a canopy. The glow warms, gentles. The Trailblazer stretches. “We move again once the cycle shifts” Phainon hums. “Dawnlight prefers resting during this phase. Says it makes their thoughts quieter..”
“…Okay?” the Trailblazer says. Silence threatens to settle but Phainon fills it immediately “They always fall asleep faster than they think they will, it's adorable! You should see their face when they sleep”
The Trailblazer lies flat on the ground, already already giving up. Dan Heng tries to intervene exactly once “Phainon” he says, carefully. “Talking about them constantly will not bring them back faster”
Phainon considers this “I know” he says. Then, softer “But it helps me breathe and feel better..” Dan Heng has no response to that.
This guy talks about you when he’s calm, he talks about you when he’s irritated, he talks about you when he’s bleeding, laughing weakly as he waves off concern “It’s fine! Dawnlight would be upset if I complained!”
“You are actively injured” the Trailblazer says. “Yes” Phainon agrees. “They hate that, they hate seeing me like this, and I hate making them worry”
But back in Okhema? It’s even worse! He lingers near the gates during every arrival cycle, posture too straight, attention snapping up at footsteps that aren’t yours. Hope flickers and dies on his face so fast most people pretend not to notice.
He tells everyone about you, the blacksmith knows how you like the sound of forging when the glow is bright, the archivists know you steal Phainon’s warmth when reading, the guards know unfortunately exactly how you rest against his chest (maybe even how you suck on his nipples) like that’s where you’re meant to be.
Someone jokes that if you vanished entirely, Phainon would reconstruct you from memory alone, no one laughs very hard, because it’s obvious now, he’s not coping as well as he thinks. He’s doing everything right, smiling,fulfilling duties,standing tall as any Chrysos Heir should but without you, the space beside him feels wrong, too quiet, too empty, he's already messing your warmth...so why can't you just come back already?!
In his chambers, your things remain untouched,not out of grief, no no no! He just knows that you might get upset if he messes with your stuff and it's totally not because he imagines you using them and then putting them in that place and then setting next to him, as put your hand on his cheek before you kiss his lips and then— he totally can cope just fine..
He sits during rest phases, armor discarded, hands idle, whispering your name, As he rubs his face against a piece of cloth that belongs to you, his appearance is kind of sad and pathetic, but no one dares to say anything.
So when word spreads, quiet at first, then everywhere, that Aglaea’s mission succeeded, that you’re coming back—
Phainon doesn’t wait, just runs in the direction of the city gate, no composure, no dignity, just motion. When he sees you at the gates, his dignity doesn’t matter anymore, repetition doesn’t matter. Nothing really does.
He stops like he’s afraid you’ll vanish if he moves too fast, like you're not real, like he's still dreaming. “…Dawnlight ” he breathes, voice wrecked, already at the edge of sobbing.
Then he’s there, arms around you, holding on like letting go would be a mistake he can’t afford. “You’re here” he keeps saying. “You’re really here...Dawnlight is this really you? I'm not dreaming right?”
He presses his forehead to your shoulder, grip tight, unashamed “Don’t leave like that again!” he whispers. “Don’t go without saying goodbye!” You wrap your arms around him too, by now he's sure you're really real. “I did say goodbye” you murmur.
He knows, you did say goodbye and everything, even give him a kiss on his forehead. He just exhales a shaky laugh and says, “…Still”
Behind you, the Trailblazer watches, exhausted and fond. “So” they say quietly to Dan Heng, “he’s normal again?” Dan Heng watches Phainon breathe like the world finally makes sense “…No” he says “But this is as close as it gets..”
And honestly? Everyone can live with that, because Phainon loves loudly and now that you’re back, they can finally stop hearing about it (They absolutely won’t)
It's just something I wrote on the way home After my exam so I'm sorry if it's kind of bad, but luckily I don't really have anything tomorrow so I'll go back to writing the requests I have. My next post will probably be smut
note ⟡ modern!au + gn reader. i actually didn’t have any fic in mind for phainon this christmas but i keep seeing fanarts of him so yeah… in the end, phainon had the last laugh 😒
word count ⟡ 699
It’s cold enough that your breath keeps fogging up the air, even when you try to breathe slow.
You’ve got your scarf pulled up almost to your eyes, nose buried, chin tucked, and shoulders hunched as if it might help. You’re already wearing too many layers, and it still feels like the cold is finding ways in anyway—sneaking down your sleeves, nipping at your ears, even settling into your bones.
Phainon keeps glancing at you like you’re doing something funny.
“You know,” he starts, “you haven’t kissed me again.”
You make a noise into your scarf. It comes out muffled and weird. “We kissed before we left.”
“Yeah,” he says, drifting a little closer, “but that was, like, forever ago.”
You peek at him through the corner of your eye. He’s smiling, clearly enjoying this. “It’s only been fifteen minutes.”
“Fifteen very hard minutes,” he says. “I’m basically kiss deprived.”
You snort before you can stop yourself. “That’s not a thing.”
“It absolutely is,” he insists. “I have a mental kiss counter, and it’s dangerously low right now.”
“What happens when it hits zero?”
He sighs, dramatic. “Tragic things.”
You shake your head, amused. “You’ll survive.”
“But I want a refill,” he says, voice going deliberately whiny.
He reaches out like he’s going to tug your scarf down, and you dodge on instinct, hands coming up to shield your face.
“Hey,” he says, pouting. “I’m just trying to steal a kiss.”
You shake your head again. “No. If I move this, I’m never getting warm again.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“Am not.”
“Come on,” he tries. “Just one kiss. It’ll be quick, I promise.”
“But I’m freezing.”
“You’re always freezing.”
“Yeah, because it’s winter.”
He laughs and reaches for the scarf anyway. You catch his wrist before he can tug it down.
“Phainon.”
He stops, looks at you closely this time. The red tip of your nose. The way your fingers are curled into your sleeves despite wearing mittens. How stiff you are, even with all the layers.
“Oh,” he says, softer. “You’re actually cold.”
“I clearly told you.”
“Yeah,” he murmurs. “You did.”
He sighs, but not in an annoyed way. He rubs his hands together, then cups your cheeks, warming them before you can protest, thumbs brushing softly like he’s trying to bring the feeling back.
“One kiss,” he says, stubborn. “Then we bundle you back up.”
Before you can argue, he pulls the scarf down just enough to free your mouth. Cold air rushes in and you shiver.
He kisses you.
It’s quick, but it’s warm and firm and familiar—like he’s pouring all the heat he has into it. His thumbs brush your jaw, steadying you, and when he pulls back, he presses his forehead into yours for a moment.
“You’re so cute,” he murmurs, then he immediately tucks the scarf back up around your face, not even sparing another second to wait for your response. He smooths the fabric over your cheeks, makes sure nothing’s exposed. “There. Safe again.”
You’re still catching your breath when he leans down and kisses you again—this time, through the scarf. Wool between you, soft and warm, his lips pressing to yours like the barrier doesn’t matter.
That one lingers.
You feel it settle in your chest, warm and slow. You make a small sound without meaning to, and you feel him smile against the fabric.
“Kiss counter topped off,” he says, leaning back and with the smuggest look on his face. “And you didn’t freeze.”
You laugh, muffled. “Barely.”
He doesn’t let go of you after that.
Instead, he unbuttons his coat with one hand, quick and practiced, and gently pulls you closer until you’re pressed against him. The cold barely has time to protest before he folds the coat around you both and buttons it back up, one at a time, sealing the space shut.
You’re suddenly surrounded by (his) warmth. His arms settle around you, like you fit there exactly.
“There,” he says, chin resting lightly on top of your head. “Now you’re really bundled up.”
You’re practically stitched together like this, sharing heat and sharing space.
synopsis he’s injured and refuses medical care from anyone but you. despite being his ex, you reluctantly come to help but discover a few letters while searching for medical equipment.
tags ex bf phainon x reader, fem reader, second person pov, hospital setting, does ts count as modern au cause i hope it doesn’t and does amphoreus even have medical equipment, snooping, pre 3.4 mission, 1.8k wc
a/n jonny, why couldn’t you be ready, too? i was ready, ready to.. be happy. ready for that long look that never ends. /lyr anyways i was originally gonna write this for kaiser but..
Could Hyacine not have employed her own faculties in the management of such an affair? She bore, after all, the sanctioned offices of physician and healer, duly entrusted to her within the dominion of Amphoreus. It felt as if you had been dragged through an inescapable rip within the ocean once you had received the call Hyacine conferred, aware you had been summoned to tend to a patient you found displeasing to ameliorate. For it was Phainon whom you discovered; his occupancy had not slipped unnoticed, evident in your scrutinising gaze. Where the room was rendered too bright—as though the building itself tried to void any shadow—and saturated by the pungent redolence of antiseptic, never failed to provoke a subtle aversion regardless of all your frequent visits to such walls. Had the words of your coworkers been truthful when reporting how Phainon declared he would refuse medical care from anyone but you?
Phainon’s coat lay absent from his battered body. White sheets were curled against him, and your peripheral vision caught a hummingbird visiting a white lily flower. The bleak white of the bed reflected Phainon’s own childish air, something unguarded within him. In your presence, his reason seemed calmer, his composure quietly undone; for there was, in the way you carried yourself, an omnipotent power to enthral him, to entertain a brief and fragile world in which he was no longer burdened by the name of Deliverer, but permitted—if only for a moment—to exist simply as Phainon. The heavy weight of his gaze was drawn to your attention against your will, the way one becomes aware of heat: gradually, and once it has already settled and suffocated you. Sunlight—gentle in its heat—had filtered through the window, resting upon Phainon’s enlivened smile and eyes that seemed to admit more colour in the interval you occupied him. You draw on your gloves. You do not inquire after his comfort. You do not ask why Phainon specifically required your name. His plaintive gaze lingered on the motion of your hands, precise and unhesitating, in a way that said your actions were out of inclination, and not warmth. When you pressed near an old wound—one long since healed but never forgotten—his breath faltered.
“This mark,” you observed lightly. “It’s improperly healed.”
“I know.”
“You didn’t fathom the action to report such a wound to Hyacine?”
“No.”
Your head inclined, neither approving nor reproachful. “You ought to have.”
“I’m aware.” A light chuckle escaped his lips. The admission came too readily. You did not remark upon it. There are habits you have trained yourself not to indulge in. When you reached for the gauze, you realised the drawer was empty. You turn to the cabinet behind him, shoulders brushing the edge of the bed as you pass. The cabinet was open just enough to suggest use. Inside: medical supplies. For when your fingers abruptly brushed paper, you came to a halt. The bundle was narrow, tethered with fraying twine, and concealed in a way that spoke of something forbidden. One page slipped free. You recognised the handwriting at once. You should’ve put it back, but your thoughts were restless, and you couldn’t help but pry into the page’s contents. You should’ve closed the cabinet. You should’ve taken the gauze and left the rest untouched. Instead, you took the papers with you. Phainon’s eyes flicked up the moment he heard the sound. Something tightened in his jaw. Once you returned to him and set the stack down on the metal tray beside his bed, you did not dare to let your eyes linger too long on the inked paper.
“Those aren’t medical records,” you say.
“No.”
“You shouldn’t keep personal items in here.”
“I had not planned to.”
You resumed tending his wound. Phainon had not spoken again until you were done. Until your gloves were discarded and the bandage was secured. Only then did he say, in a hushed tone, “You don’t have to read them.” You did not reply. In the docile room of the rustling of clothes, the coarse bandage chafed against your palm as you finished binding the last knot against Phainon’s forearm, as if keeping your hands busy would’ve resolved the unsettled words of your circumstances. Your chair glided back and squeaked against the floor.
“You don’t have to leave immediately.” Phainon shot up, despite sustaining injuries that would have immobilised any other man. A silence followed.
“I do.”
You picked up the papers, and the door clicked behind you. Later, much later, you sat unattended.
Letter I
I am writing this with the understanding that it may never be read. That knowledge is, in some ways, a relief. It permits a degree of honesty I would not trust myself with otherwise. I love you. I loved you when I first gazed upon you, when our first argument unfurled, when I dozed next to you in the baths; my love for you still endures. Often, my thoughts replay conversations, not to revise them, but to gain a deeper understanding. In your absence, I have unearthed the habits I have not yet learnt to let go of. One of them is the instinct to reach out whenever anything happens, though I’ve realised now that you’re not there for me to run to anymore, and with this, the true weight of your absence is soon to crush me.
Had I engaged more time, more capital, more endeavours with you, would this have never happened? I will not contest the separation. My failure to listen when it mattered was the catalyst for your conclusion. I recognise that now with a clarity that admits no defence. I was attentive to outcomes, to solutions, to what I believed necessary. I was not attentive to you. That distinction, once overlooked, now appears decisive.
But there were times when I was upset, too, and I would have never gone to drastic measures like these. I am enraged at you, at the casual certainty with which you walked away. You left, and with that leaving, you left me behind—not merely hurt, not simply disappointed, but reduced to the absurdity of wanting something that has already departed. But ultimately, I am most enraged at myself. I should loathe you, and a part of me does, but you were never cruel. Every attribute of you that I should have treasured more carefully was merciful, compassionate even. Hate is too linear a concept. What I feel for you is an unruly and unforgiving love that defies all virtue. You have done nothing wrong, and you are still an amazing girl.
( Some of the ink has smudged due to what looks like teardrops. )
Letter II
I dreamt about you, and I find that my thoughts have been plagued with ‘what ifs.’ Perhaps it was not quite a logical deduction from my premises, but my soul yearns for you. Come hither, be mine once more. I’d incline towards a do-over of the past few years with you. Because I’ve rationalised now. My errors were not born of confusion, but of confidence. I believed myself correct too often to claim innocence in the result. That is what failed us. I wish I had contended and fought for us more then. You were the woman of my heart, and a flawless model of the benevolence one seldom sees. You’ve brought the most delight into my world and yet, the most anguish, too.
No piece of sword is heavier than my heart. No battle has punctured such a hole of sorrow into me. While the chance for the black tide to relinquish its terror over Amphoreus is greater than the chance for us to reunite, I am still consumed by my desire for you—despite knowing I hold no weight in your life anymore. What I accomplish from now on will not alter your judgment, nor get you to take back your words that day; that is what pains me most. Childishly enough, I cannot help but gratify the frivolous hope that our split was but a momentary error of judgment, and that you might yet be persuaded to return to me.
If I had been cognizant enough, I could have prevented this conundrum. I had not loved you amply. I knew you, but I did not understand you. And now, with the recollection of your words oppressing me, I bring to thought that a bright and serene future without you in it is a future I am not in the humour for. I ought to have done more.
Letter III
I had intended for the previous letter to be the finale. That resolve has not held. There is a flicker of ironic dishonesty in pretending that my awareness alone is ample to heal my heart. I am aware that what follows is improper, that it does not align with the values I have so intensely facilitated since that day. With that, I state this openly, knowing my words will never reach you.
I do not want you to belong to anyone else.
I think of you more often than I can allow myself to reminisce while still free of guilt. You haunt me, and I cannot decipher whether that is beneficial for me. I’d label you a disease that I’ve been plagued with yet do not wish to be cured of, but that would mean I’d have to picture you in a negative light to connotate you with something as corrosive as disease.
I’d prefer to believe this dilemma is superficial and easily answered, that it is my vigilance misdirected, or that sense of heroism I often find embedded in me. But I have come to terms with the conclusion that lying to myself may govern the myriad of impulses I have, but, unfortunately, it does not eliminate those impulses. I am woefully conscious of the many grounds I should not permit myself to give a speech to. This letter is not a confession, nor is it an appeal for you to love me back. I have no claim, no ownership upon you, but even with that, the knowledge that another might assume the place I once held does not settle comfortably with me. I fear they would be ignorant and flippant about the things I learnt too late. I imagine an error. Their unfamiliar hands drifting where they are not yet cognizant of when and where to be careful, their words spoken too quickly, and their minds will misunderstand your intricate and beautiful character. If another were to gaze at you with that particular attention, it compels me to experience a sense of unease in a way I cannot reason rationally. For you to be pursued by someone who is not me makes me want to take measures unbecoming of reason, even to the consideration of violence.
I seldom require your affection, and I must not relish the idea of your presence. I demand only the certainty that no one else will enjoy you in my stead.
Sitting in the kitchen of your strangely quiet apartment, you stared at your phone, waiting for anything from him. It's your first Christmas together… if he even shows up. You've set up the table, decorated your place, and cooked a good amount of dishes for both of you.
But what was meant for two people would turn cold long before Phainon could reply to your messages. He was supposed to be here an hour ago, after he told you he was on the way.
A plethora of thoughts circulated in your brain as you nervously waited. What if something happened to him? Did he lie about leaving on time? Did he forget something back at his place? Did he get lost? Wait, no, he's been to your apartment before, multiple times at that.
As you fidget with your fingers, a thought you've been burying at the back of your mind keeps pestering you.
What if… he forgot? Surely not? Phainon isn't the type.
But even after knowing that, all you could do was hope that he would prove you wrong.
He's late. Extremely late.
Phainon grips the steering wheel of his car, pushing more energy than he realizes. He was supposed to be at your place an hour ago, but on the way, he passed by a pop-up flower stand and couldn't pass on the opportunity.
The bouquet he picked out for you was beautiful—perfectly and carefully selected flowers that perfectly matched your taste and personality. But he didn't take into account how long it would take him. I mean, you're just too lovely that every flower suited you!
And now he's stuck in unbelievable traffic, reminding him why he was supposed to leave early. He did! But uhm… got sidetracked. Not to mention that his phone was dead, so he couldn't even tell you what happened and where he was.
He was about to cry.
He is crying.
Another 30 minutes pass by, and now the food is cold, and you're left sitting—looking as if you've been abandoned—and at this point? You might as well be.
Anger, worry, and sorrow fueled your mind as you stared at your phone. Messages you've sent to Phainon being left on delivered.
Maybe he did forget.
Feeling dejected, you finally made up your mind and started placing the lids back on the dishes you've made.
Ding dong!
Huh.
Surely..?
Before you knew it, you were already at the door, hand on the door handle. As you carefully swing the door open, you can hear little sobs and sniffles.
"Phai—?!" You were abruptly cut off by strong arms embracing you in a tight hug.
"My dearest dawnlight! I'm so sorry, I didn't realize I was running late!" Phainon lifts you off the ground, spinning you around in excitement.
"Whoa, hey! Put me down!" With a sigh, he mutters an apology before setting you down. As your feet hit the floor, you gaze up at a fascinating sight.
He was pouting, puppy eyes on full show. Honestly? He looked like a kicked puppy with his tail tucked between his legs.
That didn't really work, though; you were still upset at him for showing up incredibly late with no notice. "Why didn't you respond to my messages? I've been waiting for around 2 hours for you!" You frown, trying your best to stay serious while he practically whimpers to gain your sympathy.
"I would if I could! I swear! My darling, my phone's dead, so I couldn't—" Before he could continue, he got distracted by the disappointed and upset look on your face. It stung his heart to know he was the one who had caused that. Oh, the world was practically ending for him at that moment.
Quickly, he picks up the bouquet he set down on the floor earlier before ringing your doorbell and offers it to you. His gaze was apologetic, his body looming over yours due to his height. Something about a tall and at times, intimidating man, downgrading to a state like this because of you felt quite enthralling.
"For you, Dawnlight. I passed by a flower stand on the way here, and I just had to get you a bouquet. And before I knew it, I already lost track of time after being so immersed in picking the best ones for you."
"And I got caught in traffic, but let's not talk about that part, please hehe." He quickly adds in a voice much smaller.
His grip tightens on the flowers, but not too tight as to damage the stems. A desperate, almost pathetic voice comes out as he opens his mouth to speak again.
"Forgive me, please?"
And as much as you wanted to hate him right now. As much as you were upset that the food you'd spent hours cooking was now cold. Plus the fact that he was late. You couldn't bring yourself to be mad at him right now.
The bouquet looked stunning. It was all your favorite flowers and some additional ones. Ones that reminded Phainon of you, you assumed. With your heart softening up for him, you sigh as you accept the flowers. In which his eyes practically light up as you do so. If he had a tail, it would be wagging excitedly by now.
"Does that mean you forgive me, Dawnlight? I promise I won't do it again! I'm so sorr—"
His ramblings are then met by you, catching his lips in a kiss to shut him up. Not that he was complaining, he practically melted immediately under your touch.
At least he didn't forget, and now he's in your arms once more.
tags. fluff; a little suggestive; various winter and holiday headcanons/scenarios; established relationship focus, but there are pre-dating HCs because I love mutual pining; found family with the Chrysos Heirs.
wc. ~6.1k
note. my gift for the holidays <3
Phainon loves mistletoe.
You will learn this very quickly in your first winter with him because his eyes practically light up when he spots it above the doorway. If he cannot find an excuse to get you under it (either on his own or by convincing someone to suggest you go under the same door in the guise of a favour of some sort), he will simply walk over with you in tow and pretend he hadn’t noticed—it was very obvious.
If you're living together already, you may find it useless because he likes kissing you so often already: you find that you'll be going about your day and minding your own business when you'll hear a little “kiss?” and, when you look, Phainon has the biggest and sweetest smile on his face that turns into a terrible pout if you don't give him one. He's just trying to convince you; if you really don't want to kiss, then he won't push it. Anyway, five minutes later, you'll pass by him and hear him go “kiss, please?” again. However, he will argue that mistletoe makes it special (if you ask if he's implying that kissing you normally isn't special, you will see him clamour a little as you tease him, which is cute).
Then you begin to discover mistletoe in places other than doorways. For example: you'll slip into bed and Phainon is grinning at you mischievously, but you're half-asleep without any idea of what's going on, only for him to point at the headboard where there's a sprig crudely taped to the wood. He already gives you a goodnight kiss on the cheek or the forehead, but he looks so giddy about this small tradition that you just let it slide.
Depending on how needy he feels, he may whine once the kiss ends. You will find that his hand feels heavy wrapped around your back as though he cannot bear the thought of pulling away. Indulge him, and he will kiss you slowly, dragging out the moment for as long as possible.
He may resort to pecking your cheeks over and over afterwards if he's in a playful mood, but he sometimes gets so lost in kissing you that his lips end up travelling down your neck. If this happens while you're in bed together (mistletoe taped to the headboard), expect to sleep late if Phainon starts getting touchy and you reciprocate.
If you aren't dating yet, Cyrene one-hundred percent knows about his crush on you and will try to get the two of you under one to simply see him fluster. Neither Cyrene nor Phainon will force you to do it, however. He will spend the rest of the night distracted by you and glances at your lips repeatedly—he should just ask you out, honestly, or maybe you should ask him—but if you would like to take the initiative, give him a small peck on the cheek. You'll be subjected to a dazed expression and the most adorable reaction ever.
Snowball Fights
He really likes winter activities despite being bad with the cold (more on this later), where he has ruthless aim if you have a snowball fight with him. And no, he isn’t going easy on you just because you're the love of his life.
This doesn't differ much if you aren’t dating, but if you are and make a bet with Phainon, even more of his competitive side will come out. The reason being: he will propose that the bet involves being spoiled by you in some way (e.g. five extra kisses before bed). Do not expect to win because he will have a razor-sharp focus once the reward is established.
And he's so good at snowball fights because he and Cyrene used to decimate the neighbourhood kids when they were younger and it became a little competition every year as to whether or not a new pair will knock them off their throne.
That being said, you do not want to be up against them at the same time if it's one-on-one unless you are also very good at snowball fights.
Inviting Mydei will run the risk of being outside for too long because he and Phainon get too into it—Mydei initially thinks it's silly because only kids have snowball fights, but Phainon taunts him and the rest is history. Be ready to be sick the next day.
Catching a Cold
Phainon is very doting and a bit of a worrywart even if he doesn’t show it; eases up once your fever breaks.
If you’re not in a relationship, he’ll either say something along the lines of making it up to you because of the snowball fight, or that he cares about you (that’s an understatement) and friends take care of friends! Regardless, he will insist on taking care of you with the declaration that he doesn’t get sick easily.
If you’re in a relationship, he actually looks miserable without affection and may beg for a kiss because he “swears he won’t get sick.” In the event that you absolutely insist you sleep separately, he will drag himself to the living room but there is a high chance that he crawls back into bed with you just to make sure you sleep peacefully through the night. He’s also aware that he’s practically a heater so he justifies this by saying he wants to keep you warm especially now that you’re sick.
Phainon is, however, too doting so he may catch your illness if not being the one who had it first because he doesn’t do well with the drop in temperature and is sensitive to it even when he runs warm (during normal winter nights, he tends to attach himself to you). You may scold him that he should stop kissing your forehead because he never learns his lesson, but he makes the excuse that it wasn’t on the lips so it must be fine, even though this has absolutely happened more than once before.
When Phainon is sick, he absolutely hates troubling you so he tends to pretend that everything is fine (not holiday related but here’s an example of the aftermath of him trying to go on a date when he has a fever).
He is also a bit of a hypocrite because he argues that you shouldn’t be anywhere near him—he looks pained to say this—in case you catch his cold. He will try to handle everything alone, so you might see him out of bed a few times even when the poor baby is dizzy.
You can easily convince him to behave and allow himself to be cared for if you appeal to his heart by saying you love him and want to take care of him the same way he takes care of you.
Also, despite him begging for a kiss when you’re sick, he will refuse to entertain it when it’s his own turn. It’s cute to watch how difficult it is for him to deny any affection from you.
Winter Stargazing
This is something Phainon likes to do every season as constellations change throughout the year, but when it’s winter in particular, the nights are not only longer but clearer. He actually developed a love for stargazing when he still lived in the countryside, and it’s where he became familiar with constellations. He does get a bit sad that the light pollution of the city makes it harder to see them, so he has a fondness for the winter season due to the mentioned clarity.
If you’re together, Phainon will make various preparations for a little stargazing date at a campground that is open during the winter. He’ll grab binoculars, some comfy lawn chairs or a cot big enough for two people, lots of blankets, and figure out some snacks you’d like to share alongside drinks—maybe a thermos of tea/coffee or hot chocolate. Before leaving, he’ll make sure you’re bundled up properly, but you can see the excitement radiating off of him and how he practically can’t wait another minute more.
He’ll check in with you frequently to ensure you’re warm, but because he gets cold easily, he may ask for a hug or two, perhaps even snuggle a little bit if you brought a cot.
If you’re comfortable with it, it could also turn into an overnight date at the campground, and he may get a bit touchy before bed when you’re alone in the tent. Phainon is feeling a bit cold again so he’s wondering if you want to keep each other warm. He promises to be good and do as you like…
If you aren’t dating, this may be one of the first times you see how romantic he can be. Phainon has a very soft reverence for the stars and how small he feels in comparison. It’s partly why he’s always so positive rather than seeing life as something inconsequential; the world is so big and your lives could have turned out in ways so different from now, but you’re here in this moment with him.
Maybe you went out for dinner with everyone and the restaurant was conveniently close to your place so Phainon insists on walking you home. He says it’s “good for digestion” but you’ve only been outside for a minute or two so his cheeks surely aren’t pink from just the cold. You chat for a little bit before the conversation tapers off into a comfortable sort of silence.
You’re close with shoulders bumping and fingers grazing but it doesn’t come with flustered apologies and suddenly tearing your hands away from each other because even when you’re pining, nothing about being close with Phainon is uncomfortable. He would also say the same no matter how his hand slightly shakes.
A part of you wants to grab it to give it a gentle squeeze and steady him, but he’s feeling chilly so he raises them to his face and breathes onto his hands to warm them up. He has a sheepish smile on his face when you ask him if he’s alright, and he agrees as he tries to play off how badly he wants to hold your hand, too.
And when he looks up at the sky and starts pointing out the stars, maybe he wraps an arm around you if you’ll allow it, excusing it as a way to make it easier to trace the path of each constellation because your line of sight matches better this way. You stay outside and get home a little bit later than intended, occupied by Phainon’s stories about the stars that have been here every winter but are changed with him by your side.
You don’t realize it, but Phainon was almost brave enough to confess exactly how much he likes—maybe even loves—you. For now, this is enough, and he tells himself that he always has next year despite how fiercely his heart aches.
Snowed In Together (Unestablished Relationship)
He’ll never admit it, but he would love to get snowed in with you because he already feels as though he never wants a moment with you to end. But don’t be fooled because he’s so nervous the entire time even though he won’t let it show on his face.
Perhaps you were spending time together at his place, merely catching up after work has eased up with the end of the year while pushing some responsibilities over to the next. The both of you decided that it would be nice to do so while cooking a meal together, having dinner, and then maybe watching a movie or two with adequate space between you on the couch.
Alternatively, you may be pining terribly for each other, but neither of you have the courage to cross that line. So you’re pressed together, maybe cuddling, even, and sharing a blanket with a bowl of popcorn on your laps and freshly baked cookies on the table. Once there’s a snowfall warning accompanied by a notice for roads being dangerous at this time, you believe it safer to stay overnight. He’s respectful and polite the entire time, offering you his bed while he’ll take the couch. And you agree to it, but as the night goes on, you’re so busy talking about silly things and plans you have with your friends that you don’t realize that the credits are rolling.
He can’t take his eyes off you; elbow bent and resting on the back of the couch to prop his head up as he’s turned towards you, listening attentively. Once the television quiets, you finally notice and put on another movie; the roads won't be cleared right away, so there's no rush. Why not sleep a little later tonight?
This time, you both pay attention to the movie, even when it’s hard to do so with Phainon’s head resting on your shoulder. Your own arm is looped around his, but you can't stop yourself from intertwining your fingers together. You don’t say a word while he remains silent, and the only way you know that any of this is okay is the fact that he tightens his hold on your hand. And, well, it’s best not to talk during a movie, right?
As an early riser, Phainon can’t keep his eyes open and falls asleep first, soothed by how warm it is under the blanket and how peaceful he feels next to you. You only notice when his hand in yours slackens, and he starts snoring softly. It’s cute, and you’d hate to disturb his rest when Phainon is so busy during his day-to-day; from work to volunteering, and then his own hobbies, it’s as if he never gets a chance to take a break. Now, however, he looks so content and comfortable against you that you can’t bring yourself to wake him up and go sleep in the bed he’s offered you. Just for tonight, you decide that you’ll stay like this so that Phainon can get all the rest he needs while you pretend that your stomach doesn’t flip at the thought of him feeling safe with you.
A Cozy Night In (Established Relationship)
If Phainon could have it his way, he would love to do this once a week, but this is more like a stay-at-home date night, really.
To start, he wants to plan this night thoroughly with you: what you’ll have for dinner, the snacks you need to buy, the treats you can bake together, what drinks you want to have (tea or coffee, alcohol, hot chocolate, or whatever else you like), and the assortment of activities to prepare. The last of these consists of tabletop games (puzzles, board games, card games, and so on), video games, television shows and movies, and maybe even simple crafts such as making matching beaded bracelets.
Although Phainon refers to it as a date night, you’re realistically going to start around 4 p.m. because he insists on the domesticity associated with shopping for groceries and he wants everything to be fresh (he’s very serious about date night if you couldn’t tell, but he’s honestly just serious about anything that involves you).
He also ensures that he gets enough sleep the day before because he wants to try to stay up as long as you’d like to. He’s determined to absolutely spoil you tonight and make sure that you have as much fun as possible!
He’s really flexible when it comes to cooking, so if you want to boss him around if you have a particular system, feel free to do so! However, Phainon does like to cook (see Chrysos Grand Restaurant event) so he can lead if it’s not something you’re good at or enjoy in particular. He will constantly ask you to do a taste test because he likes seeing your reaction and wants to feed you because he’s sappy like that. When it comes to baking dessert, it’s not so different, but he’ll be more playful (more on this later).
When you get to the various activities, Phainon will put some music on in the background and in the chance that you stand up for whatever reason, he may follow suit just so he can pull you close and sway for a few moments. Twirl him and he’ll laugh before smothering you in kisses.
Similar to the snowball fights, he will not go easy on you when you face each other in tabletop games. But if he repeatedly loses anyway, he'll give you a pathetic look just so you’ll be sweet to him. If you keep losing, however, he will show you a trick or two and promise to do as you like later (he is aware of how competitive he gets, and this will be his apology).
Aside from that, Phainon really likes to share clothes, especially if you wear anything of his, and he believes the winter season is the best time for this to happen. He will buy oversized hoodies and sweaters in the hopes that you’ll steal them, and if you spend this date night wearing something of his, he will short-circuit if not feel a little shy. Later, though, you might feel his hands creep up your sides with him nuzzling into your neck.
If your hands are cold, Phainon is like your own personal heater so go ahead and slip them under his sweater—he’ll take any physical contact he can get from you—but he may yelp a little if you catch him off guard. He’ll pout but hug you anyway.
Phainon will suggest making a pillow fort so the living room is super comfortable for cuddling where you can enjoy the rest of the night pressed against each other and tangled in blankets.
He also enjoys cheesy holiday movies and will cry at emotional scenes about friendship and family. When it comes to romance, you may catch him covering up a dorky smile because a good love story always gets him. Pull his hand away, and Phainon will laugh and make some teasing remarks about whether or not the two of you should imitate it. Give him a kiss, and he’ll fall back, dragging you on top of him and grinning all the while, which makes it impossible to press your lips together properly. Although he doesn’t care so long as you’re close.
Despite getting extra sleep the night before, Phainon struggles with staying up too late, so he may get quieter as the hours pass, but he’s content with just laying against you—his favourite way to sleep is tucked into your neck with your arms around him because he feels like he’s surrounded by you and even someone like him wants to be spoiled a little. He deserves it, too, with how much he takes care of you and tries his best so that you don’t have to worry about anything. In this moment, hold him and let him be small.
Or, you can kiss him a bit more and do that later since it’s easy to get him worked up. With the romantic atmosphere, the comfortable area you set up, and the hours spent focused solely on each other, he will be flirtatious; it’s your decision whether or not you want to take it further. If you do, however, all the drowsiness leaves him as he loses himself in you for a little longer. And not only is he weak to you, but he’s pliant and flusters easily when you’re forward. Have him however you like; Phainon is happy so long as he is yours for tonight.
Winter Market Date
Phainon loves walking around during the winter season because all the lights, decorations, merry-making, and the happiness of everyone around him makes him feel content himself. This is because he is a person who is happy when other people around him are at ease, even if they’re strangers. In canon, Phainon is someone who struggles with the suffering that surrounds him, which doesn’t change much in modern!au as he wouldn’t be Phainon if he wasn’t undeniably kind.
Anyways, please hold his hand. As he gets cold easily, walking around for a few hours—despite going in and out of a few stores and local restaurants/cafés—is sure to make him feel chilly. It’s also a way to avoid getting separated or lost if it’s particularly busy on the day you visit.
He may tuck your hand into his jacket pocket, but he gets a bit shy if you tuck his into your own—he’ll try to hide his smile into his scarf but the red that splatters his cheeks and the tips of his ears betrays him. It’s simple, but it’s a subtle way to show you care because you remember how sensitive he is to the cold, which he sees as a tiny, inconsequential detail about himself (you have to pay attention to figure this out because Phainon would rather do anything else than worry you by admitting it).
That being said, if you forget your scarf or hat, he will give you his because he thinks little of himself in comparison to your comfort (do scold him a little). And when he has an opportunity to wrap his scarf around your neck, he will subsequently pull you in by the ends with a mischievous look in his eyes to gift you a soft kiss. If you forget your beanie/toque, he will pull the rim over your eyes just to catch you off guard with a small peck. If you have glasses, however, he’ll just give you a kiss anyway and proudly go “there, you’re all warm now, starlight!” Can you tell he likes kissing you?
Phainon will urge you to try various food stands, so come prepared with an empty stomach. He has a big appetite (canon) so don’t worry about getting full too fast as he’ll polish anything off so you can enjoy the subsequent stalls without trouble! In general, he will always give you the last bite because Phainon prides himself in being a wonderful boyfriend (give him a compliment and he'll be giddy for a long while afterwards, just ignore how big of a bite he takes when you share food sometimes).
He takes many pictures; what he finds cute (like you), food you share, decorations, pretty lights, interesting knickknacks, objects or scenes that remind him of you and your friends, and, of course, couple pictures. Regardless of them being goofy, aesthetically pleasant, or sappy, he loves any picture he can get with the both of you in it as a way to remember the winter season.
Phainon loves matching items, no matter what they are. They don’t have to be clothes in particular—although he wouldn’t say no to matching scarves, hats, sweaters, and so on—but something as simple as jewellery, desk trinkets, phone keychains, plush toys would be enough to make him happy. The reason behind this isn’t because he wants others to know you’re together—he won’t deny that he loves it when people know he’s yours, however—but because they specifically remind him of you: the time you spent picking it out together, the sentimentality of the item being a memento for the date as a whole, and, most of all, the affection he has for you.
Baking and Other Food-Related Shenanigans
Phainon likes to cook and bake, and he gets pulled into all the festivities with the winter season. Regardless of whether or not you’re together, expect to be spoiled with baked goods every time you see him. If you live together, your place will smell very nice for the entire season.
Really likes sugar cookies (inspired by his addiction to Chimera Cookies in canon), and you’ll often catch him munching on one. He tries to work out more because of how many cookies he eats over the season, but his morning runs are practically non-existent as he cannot bring himself to pull away from your arms when you’re so warm and comfortable in comparison to the weather, which is not only cold but dreary when you aren’t around.
Finds decorating cookies therapeutic, but chooses the worst colour combinations. They end up a little ugly aesthetically speaking but always taste good; it’s his mother’s recipes and he is very proud of them. It's also the thought that counts (please give him a hug when he proudly shows them to you).
Phainon also enjoys making gingerbread houses. He’ll mention something about it being like a little home you share if you aren't living together. And he will have a pitiful pout and the biggest, most pathetic puppy dog eyes if it collapses. Laugh, and he’ll smear some icing on your nose.
The aforementioned can also happen if you bake with him in general, unless you get to him first. Phainon is actually very fun to bake with, and he keeps track of everything you need to do—he’s good at juggling multiple things at once—despite how playful he can get. But he will beg for a taste of icing and some ingredients here and there just to be cute in hopes you’ll give him some affection, while he will offer it to you just as an excuse to feed you.
Once the brunt of the work is over, he may make a mess by teasing you; you’ll be covered with hand prints made of flour while he’ll have chocolate smeared on his cheek. If you have any frosting on you and he knows you’re okay with it, he will kiss or lick it off, especially if it’s on your fingers or—oops! His mistake! It’s on your neck, so just give him a moment and he’ll clean it off for you…
Miscellaneous Winter Situations
When it starts getting colder, Phainon will start keeping track of the weather forecast to catch the first snowfall. He'll tell you in advance, hoping that you're together for it and not busy with work or whatnot because he will drag you outside for it. If you don't get this opportunity, he will bundle you up for when it snows a bit harder so he can twirl you around and chase you with a glob of snow in a gloved hand—no matter how romantic he can be, he's still a menace sometimes.
Phainon is the type to breathe on glass so it frosts over, allowing him to draw hearts. Really, he just takes any chance he gets to show you affection, even through small things like this because there’s so much love in his heart and he believes that he shouldn’t wait to show the people who are important to him exactly how much they mean to him. This extends to the other Chrysos Heirs, but he was also affectionate to you when you were both just friends and he had a massive crush, albeit more restrained and friendly. Anyway, if you’re meeting up for a date and sitting by the window, he will do this before heading inside just to see you roll your eyes and smile. If you aren't dating, he will draw goofy things just to make you laugh a little.
It's a toss up whether or not he can skate. If he can, he'd love to hold hands (he takes any and every chance presented to him as he tends to show affection through touch), and he will also teach you if you don't know how. If he can't skate, there's something cute about him being this tall and broad guy, slipping and sliding and clinging onto you for dear life. If you both can't, well, seek out Hysilens or March for help, and maybe it can be an entire outing with all your friends!
If you slip on ice, he will do everything he can to steady you—will be very distressed if you hit the ground (when he was younger, he would cry if Cyrene fell even though he was completely fine). If he slips, it’s over.
Phainon will try to convince you to go outside and build the both of you as snowmen. He’s also really cheesy about it and will tell you that your snowmen need time alone together before making the rest of your friends—his hands are actually cold and he wants to go back inside to cuddle, but just play along for his sake. He will take pictures and be very sad once they melt.
When making snow angels, Phainon will try to make it look like yours is holding hands with his by lying down close beside you. He will also roll over on top of you just for a kiss, but if he’s feeling too excited, he may just start rolling the two of you around in the snow in general (his hand will cover the back of your head and he’ll tuck you into his chest, don’t worry). It’s difficult to be upset with him with how bright his laughter is. You’ll end up on top of him by the end of it, and Phainon is very handsome under you with his hair splayed out, as white as the snow surrounding you while his cheeks are stained pink. His mischievous expression is absolutely devastating, and his eyes narrow playfully, practically daring you to mess with him in return. If you want to surprise him, go ahead and kiss him to hear him gasp before it dissolves into a satisfied hum. When you pull away, he’ll chase after you with a little “one more, please?” And it will be impossible to deny him with how dazed and lovesick he looks.
Christmas Celebrations (For Those Who Celebrate)
Will do anything for you to wear matching Christmas sweaters with him, the uglier the better, and Aglaea hates this. Although, sometimes, he'll show you a monstrosity—three-dimensional or with gimmicks like lights, or a truly terrible pun—and say it's cute. He will want to match this too, just so you know.
Very good at wrapping presents; he loves to give gifts so after years of doing it, he's figured out a system he likes. If you ask him to wrap gifts for you, the toll is a kiss for each gift. He actually wanted to be greedy and say one kiss for each side because many objects are boxed (i.e. four kisses per gift), but then no wrapping will be done and he wants to do his best to help you. If you aren't together, he may try to make a day out of it to spend more time together.
Another way he may do this is by asking you to tag along as he searches for very specific gifts. An example of how your day might go with Phainon is this: hours of hunting down a special edition dromas plushie that was made only for this holiday season because Anaxa would love a rare item of his favourite creature. But Phainon promises to make the experience fun.
He only panics when he can’t decide, such as when it concerns your gift, then it's terrible. He drags the others with him and agonizes over the 'perfect gift' for you. Someone please help Hyacine; she agreed because she’s very in-tune with others, but Phainon is struggling to pick something and the stores are about to close (he makes it up to her later, don’t worry).
He loves putting up decorations, especially for a Christmas tree. He is very serious about his Christmas lights but he likes any nice lighting in general—unrelated but he especially loves light shows and fireworks. If you go to watch some with him, you will receive the brightest smile ever (do take candid photos of him because he's particularly cute in those with the colours reflecting off his hair).
He also enjoys making homemade decorations because they have sentimental value, both from its uniqueness and the fact that you created them together. There's a high chance Phainon and Castorice may organize a day to simply make ornaments and spend time with everyone. Tribbie, Trianne, and Trinnon really like glitter so be careful because you will find random sparkles for the next few days after it gets stuck to your clothes.
Phainon and the Chrysos Heirs have their own little Christmas party every year so if you don't have family or anyone to celebrate with and would like to, please know that you are always welcome with them, dating Phainon or not; regardless of any feelings, you are personally important to each of the other Chrysos Heirs.
These parties will consist of potlucks, various tabletop games, some drinking—Cerydra, Hysilens, and Anaxa do love their alcohol—and eggnog. Phainon is a bit of a light-weight, as per canon, but he’s a clingy and sleepy drunk, which is terrible if it’s early in the night because he misses quite a bit of the party, so a specific batch is made with less alcohol content so he can enjoy himself in that regard too, if not for Phainon just avoiding it altogether (he still has fun with the potluck because of his appetite). Cerydra and Hysilens are so good at tabletop games that it’s almost scary, which means it’s fun to take them down.
Aglaea cringes with each ugly Christmas sweater she sees, but she smiles anyway, tight-lipped and pretending that nothing is wrong at all. Cipher thinks it’s funny to find a sweater uglier than the ones worn the year before, and ropes Castorice into it with sweet words (she’s gullible, please save her), while she goads Mydei and Phainon into joining by coming up with some competition between the two of them. Anaxa also participates as he enjoys seeing Aglaea suffer over this.
The Chrysos Heirs are also likely to hold a small Secret Santa and/or White Elephant for fun, although White Elephant is accompanied by strict rules as Cipher comes up with some crazy ideas sometimes.
Also, do not go outside for snow angels or making snowmen because it will turn into a snowball fight and, as mentioned, Cyrene and Phainon will be determined to win, especially separately. Phainon may tackle you into the snow for the dramatics of it (he will make sure that either the snow or himself breaks your fall) so prepare to be teased by everyone else.
As the night wanes, Hyacine may organize a fun trivia session with a prize, whereas Castorice organizes a movie or two to watch (she always picks the best ones). If a scary movie is chosen as per Christmas horror goes, Hyacine startles easily so you’re more likely to be surprised by her screams than the movie. If it's a romance (Castorice's favourite genre), there's a chance that Castorice, Hyacine, Phainon and even Mydei (he's a big sap and will try to hide the little tears that slip) may cry during emotional scenes. Phainon is a crybaby because he has a big heart and will request a hug and maybe a kiss to feel better if you're comfortable with it while the others are around. If not, then later when you're alone.
The party might turn into a giant sleepover in Aglaea’s living room—the well-known fashion designer owns a very nice place that is spacious enough to hold the party every year—because a few of you are a bit tipsy, it's too late to drive, and, really, you all just want to spend more time together.
The lot of you will push the coffee table and armchairs around to make room for some fold-up mattresses and sleeping bags, and Phainon will take the spot next to you if you’ll allow it. He will end up talking your ear off as everyone falls asleep, the conversations dissolving into hushed whispers and laughter as you try to keep quiet (Mydei is very serious about his sleep).
Phainon tends to look at you with incredible longing as he hangs onto your every word as though you’re sharing secrets, and he believes there’s something so intimate about it because everyone else is around, albeit asleep—a little bubble with only the two of you. It’s warm in the room, especially so with everyone strewn about, and there are soft snores but all you can focus on is Phainon’s voice, low and soothing as he tells you about this antique he found and the story behind it. You fall asleep just like that and Phainon follows shortly after with so much affection in his heart for you and all those around him.
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