AE! Phainon x Mendasian!GN!Reader
"Please, follow those red footprints—
Author's Note: There's Flufftober, Kinktober, is there any Angstober tags here chat? /gen. Also just basically Nevermore in Phainon's PoV. Inspired from Jane Doe by Kenshin Yonezu (My goat 🫶)
Credits to: @/enchanthings and @/thecutestgrotto for the dividers, @/y9iii1 (X), and @/種蒔もなか (X) for the lovely fan-art!
Tags: Angst, Hurt/No comfort, suffering, mutual yearning, amnesia (Phainon), Major Character death, lemme know if there's more tags to add, SPOILERS, LOTS OF SPOILERS (And canon-divergent stuff PLEASE CAN WE KEEP PHAINON ALIVE?!?!?)
UPDATE: This will or will not be close to canon (or atleast canon-compliant) the moment future lore drops are revealed (I'm talking to you exotale 🥀🥀🥀 JDJDNDKDNDKDK AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA Hope y'all enjoy this tho 🙏🙏
That's what it's always been.
The earthy scent of wheat fields scattered across the vast golden lands of Aedes Elysiae never fails to bring him back this odd feeling. A fleeting feeling of longing, or some sort.
Regardless, it is a feeling too powerful to ignore, too long to forget.
Despite his many years in Aedes Elysiae, he will never get sick of this place he calls home, or so he thought. Soon, only the bleak scent of burning reaches his lungs, intoxicating him with anguish and despair as he desperately fights the wallowing waves of the black tide—yet it was already too late; its over-bearing power engulfed the once golden land—the only place of comfort and safety that he once knew. With the remaining embers of what was done to his treasured home fall onto the very same ground, he was left with nothing but the glaring somber light of the moon and the promises he once made with his loved ones.
And so he ventured, further into the darkness—further into uncertainty in hopes of seeing the light of dawn rise once more. Through his journey,he has met many people, saved many lives, and kept many colors engraved deep within his heart.
The crimson stains etched through the spears of kremnoan warriors who fought for their survival, lustrous shine of golden silk wrapped all over Okhema's shining glory, rivers of flowers flourishing under the gloomy nether skies, groves continuously growing along with planted buds of life, the endless skies of azure giving everyone the hopes of freedom, and that color...
The color of his mother's hair
Something that lingers, yet is no longer there.
He had always loved the colors of this world, but never his own.
But rainbows could never exist without the prism that refracts this world's ever-burning light—its own dawn. All colors of life would cease to exist under the same singularity; that when all colors come to meet at the same time, it will all return into nothing but white, a color that is far more than just.. nothing.
White is a color that means everything. From the moment we are born, until our last breath, it is the color that greets us regardless of who and what we are. But when all is to cease its existence, then what will be the color that embraces their fall?
That's right, it is but the void that shall welcome them into the bleakness of emptiness.
And when he wakes up from that dream once more, he finds himself in the empty chambers of the lifeless machine he was meant to imprison. Trapped in an endless cycle of suffering and torment, he has been left with no choice but to merge hatred's fire with a vessel cold as ice; a match made in hell. With it comes a lapse of eternal recurrences, endless laments that will never be forgiven, a silent resignation—all in hopes of saving the world that he never loved.
But he never once grew tired of it.
Countless restless nights and false slumbers may have consumed his very being and yet he never complained, not when there is a sliver of hope that he will see that light once more.
It has been a long while since Irontomb's fall, and many things have changed. One of those, was that of Phainon's departure along with the Astral Express. Though his first few travels with the crew were far from extraneous, it was far from shattering his imagination—matter of fact, it's more than he had asked for. Meeting new faces, doing things he hasn't done before, just being himself alone made it all worth the pain he had to endure.
With your presence slowly creeping in his life, it felt as if that gap in his heart had been filled. Amphoreus may be his home, but it is you who lights up his world—his home, wherever you are.
To him, you were the light that shone for him in his darkest time—in times where he was lost, indifferent yet alienated to the world. Your voice became his refuge, your word his compass. And your eyes—one that has seen many worlds of different colors, reflected those, ever so vividly. It's as if he's staring at an impossible dream.
He knows that, and yet he still tries to reach that dream.
From then on, his journey to the stars had been better, the feeling of melancholy slowly left his shadow, replacing it with contentment as he traced his fingers in yours; no longer carrying a burden, but instead is now caressing the hand of his loved one. Though he fears that the day shall come that this journey has to end, he hopes that when he finally closes his eyes for one last time, it is you whom he sees before he dies.
But you wouldn't allow him now, won't you?
Now, he finds himself in the vast expanse of darkness, blindly following the small traces of life back to what was once his own light—to you. Who knows how long it has been since this sweet dream had begun, but he knew deep in his heart that it was bound to be over—that it will not be warmth who will greet him, but something far sinister, and far more fierce than the glaring rays of the sun.
Waking up from his trance, he soon realizes the truth of his current situation: the 'dream' is over, and only your anguish remains as you live through your worst nightmare. This bud that has been planted has now bloomed into a flower bright and free as ever, except it was never free—far from it actually. Slowly, this beautiful world you had built crumbles into nothing but ruins, shattered into pieces of brittle glass that cuts deep into the skin. Carcasses of the abominations of the swarm litter the blood-soaked place along with the newly grown flowers; two things that are never meant to be together, just like you two.
His feet unconsciously move forwards, hoping to see the faint traces of your steps. It is there, but it is nigh distinguishable from the color of the very land he's stepping in.
It's as if he's following you to your demise, unknowing of what's to come.
There, he hears that voice—the whispers of your laughter fill his ears loudly, vividly echoing each pitch and recognizing every shift in its timbre; How could he ever forget such details? He would eventually remember even if he were to forget
He would always find a way to never forget
He'd defy logic and go beyond reasoning if it meant saving you from the hands of fate
And yet he is late, far too late.
But as always, a new dawn is set to rise, and a new morning is bound to come—to welcome him, who never had done so.
In the stretching vast white, familiar faces greet his azure eyes, reflecting colors that are far too familiar—looking at him tenderly as they say their farewell for one last time.
"See you tomorrow, Snowy!"
"Thank you, Lord Phainon"
"Take care, Phainon of Aedes Elysiae."
"See you later, Phainon."
"Farewell, hero of Okhema, and deliverer of the flame-chase journey"
As they all fade away one by one, only the golden specks of dust remain, scattering across the empty space, leaving but a pink-haired lady cladded in white.
"I suppose it's time for you to go, Phainon"
She smiles knowingly—knowing that her friend has to leave again. He halts his steps, hesitation chaining his soles as he stares at the figure. Behind her, he sees the light beyond this 'dream'.
He doesn't want to leave, he never wanted to.
But it would mean losing everything else, including you. He knows he's bound to lose you regardless if he stays or not, it's just...
He couldn't let you, yes, not even you, to rewrite his tale as foretold. Not when you're not in it.
But even so, losses and farewells are a constant in the trailblaze's journey, no?
He sighs, lost in thought. It's as if he's being sentenced by fate tenfold—that even after defying destinies and prophecies, it will always find a way to grab a hold of him, choking him of his freedom for dear life. His breath is shaking, eyes widening in fear—afraid of destroying the fragile place
yet it was far too late. He's always late.
"....You're right, they have always been waiting for me."
He opens his eyes once more, with nothing to greet him but the shallow waves drifting at bay. The sun glares at him intensely, giving him no time to see the view. Regardless, he still dares to take a peek behind his guarding arms; and there he sees the light shining across the roaring seas, sailing the ship into the far distance. And in the place not far away from his position stands the Astral Express, looking at the view just like him—faces filled with curiosity and determination, unknowing of what the future has to hold.
And in that moment he soon realized:
You ended a story that no one will remember.
Yet he still remembers the very words you've said.
"May we never meet under the same stars."
I'm so cooked in 3.7 man 😞 (Got braindead in the end bruh ts has been sitting in my drafts for far too long, I still have to finish more 😭🥀)
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