small statement maybe more for myself but probably extends to others. artists dont like when you compare their fanart or oc art to other characters, its disheartening. you have every right to do that out of artist-eye/ear-shot but artists read their tags, their replies etc and its baffling some people dont realize that! they see everything you reply or tag! i know most people dont think about it when they do it but its not something an artist who worked very hard on an original work of a character wants to hear, imo!!
in which: all the times phainon had to ditch you mid-date, and the one time he didn't.
warnings: 8.2k wc, superhero!au, gn!reader who is not a superhero, the chrysos heirs are the avengers basically, hurt/comfort, fluff, sloppy making out, sfw, happy ending, slight yandere!phainon, both parties are very in love with each other, a lot of food mentions bc i love to eat so, edited but i'm not happy with this.
a/n: finally got this one out of the drafts, it was really fun experimenting with this fic, while i'm not proud of the end result, i can't really say i necessarily dislike it. either way, i hope you'll enjoy!
~ ONE:
Dating a superhero is not for the weak.
It's a lifestyle that requires bouts of patience and wrestling with anxiety over whether or not your lover will come home from a mission that's been running too long for your liking. It requires understanding that you may not always be the first choice, not when civilisations will always need him more and lives are what he saves. It requires immense mental capacity and unconditional love, especially when the superhero you're dating is Khaslana.
A widely revered figure and the face of the renowned group: The Chrysos Heirs, he is loved by all. His image iconic, the visage of a heroic entity with two wings sprouting from his back and a ginormous sword that he swings around so easily, moving it like an extension of his arm.
But Phainon, the man behind Khaslana, is loved by you. Snowy hair with blue eyes, his true identity is kept a secret from his public one, and this one is yours.
While fans will cheer and gush over the silhouette of his other persona, the saviour of Amphoreus comes home to you, welcoming him with open arms… and also to tease him with all the Khaslana merch you love buying.
Phainon doesn't really have it in him to feel embarrassed when you wear it so proudly, bouncing around the house in a yellow and purple hoodie that mimicks his superhero form, watching with a proud smile; seizing the heart of the man who holds the weight of the world on his back.
That said… there are also downsides to having a superhero as your significant other.
"I'm so excited to try out this café, I've been seeing them all over my feed," you gush, hand waving around enthusiastically as Phainon tightly holds your other one, watching with a fond smile. "I want to try the pomegranate cream cake, or their dromas-shaped roll!"
The sun was shining gently that day, a nice breeze blowing through the metropolis of Okhema. Ascent Hour had just begun, so the streets were starting to grow busier and busier, but you and Phainon decided to head out early that morning to try a new place that was going semi-viral online.
It was going seamlessly, the store wasn't too busy when you entered, and the weather was perfect for an impromptu picnic.
"Hey! If you like my drink so much, then get your own!" You scold as your boyfriend lifts your cup up to his lips, taking another generous gulp.
"I can't help it," he grins, "you just have better taste."
You glare at him from the corner of your eyes, raising your food to your lips. "It's mine, though."
"I paid for it, don't I deserve a little bit of renumeration?"
"Taking my food is a step over the line."
"Alright, I'm sorry my love," he kisses your cheek as you bite down, his glasses pressing into the side of your face.
When you raise your drink, he latches on to the straw before you could even react, the reaction time and instincts of a superhero being something you could never dream of overpowering. All you can do is let out a cry of defeat as he finishes the last of it without remorse.
"Phai! You meanie."
His smile is anything but apologetic. If anything, seems like the bastard is quite happy with himself.
"I thought your job was to save people, so why are you tormenting me?"
A muscular arm is wrapped around your waist, pulling you flush against the white-haired's side, personal space completely eliminated as he rubs his face against yours. "You're the only one I can torment, and I love it."
"Whatever. You owe me."
"I'll make it up to you, sunshine."
You pout but forgive his transgression regardless. Conversation flows, topics jumping around quite a bit, you mentioning something you wanted to read, recommended by your coworkers, Phainon talking about how he's going to meet with Mydei soon to train for an upcoming marathon; all mundane little things.
However, tranquility is a luxury when you're dating a Chrysos Heir, because the morning is cut through with an invasive buzzing on his watch. A sound that indicates he needed to be urgently summoned, despite how inconspicuous it was.
A flash of annoyance crosses his face, eyeing the watch like it was a minor inconvenience.
Well, to him it was. To you, it was a signal of distress.
"You should probably get going," you say, and there's a small pout on his face when he looks up at you.
"I should. I'm sorry for having to leave like this."
"It's fine, just another day being a hero. Text me when you're done, okay?"
He nods, handing you his card from his wallet. "Get yourself another drink before you go."
"Phainon, I can pay for it-"
"I was planning on buying it myself, but I'll probably be busy."
You press a fleeting kiss to his lips as a farewell, one that he burns into memory. "Stay safe, Phai."
"Please," he scoffs, "the bad guys are going to regret it when they see me."
You roll your eyes and swat away the kisses he blows at you.
Keeping his promise, you return to the café to buy the exact same drink he had stolen, browsing the pastry catalogue mundanely while pretending like your larger-than-life boyfriend's presence wasn't dearly missed. Maybe you should buy something sweet for him to enjoy when he comes home.
That afternoon, the news report of another successful Chrysos Heirs mission in the city of Janusopolis. The anxiety you've been nursing all afternoon is only quelled when you receive a text from Phainon, the notification ceasing the uneasiness in your gut.
My Hero <3: I'm okay. I'm on my way home now.
My Hero <3: I love you.
~ TWO:
Your eyes scan the passing crowds every so often, keen on the lookout for a certain white-haired and his blond friend, both of whom are quite hard to miss, yet you can't find them, each face as unfamiliar as the last. Until-
"Boo!"
Hands slam down on the back of the wooden bench you were sitting on, and you jolt in surprise, a small yelp slipping from your lips.
"You-" you guffaw, turning around to see the entertained grin of your boyfriend.
He even has the nerve to laugh at you.
"Phainon!"
"I'm sorry, sunshine, I didn't expect you to be so scared!"
You rise from the bench with crossed arms. "Can't blame me to be scared when you slapped my seat so hard, you should hold back your strength sometimes."
"And you can't blame a man who is just excited to see the love of his life." He rounds to embrace you in a tight hug, pressing you right into his warm, sweaty body that had just ran the distance of a marathon. You complain about his grossness into his skin, hitting his shoulder, but he doesn't relent, not even as Mydei approaches him with an unimpressed expression.
"Let me go before Mydei thinks you're a clingy leech."
"He already thinks I am a clingy leech," Phainon murmurs, but lets you go reluctantly, allowing you to take a step back and turn to the tattooed man.
"Hey, Mydei. How was your run?"
"It was good. We both set a new personal best."
"Mine was faster."
"By one second. You just pressed the 'end run' button sooner than I did, you cheat."
Phainon gasps, but you cut the bickering short. For a pair of superheroes who are powerful enough to destroy a city with one punch, their mentality regresses into that of schoolboys when they're around each other.
"Save the accusations for later. Still good to come over for dinner, Mydei?" You ask.
"If the invitations still up for grabs, then I'd love to."
The white-haired hero butts in. "As long as you admit that I was faster than you!"
You gently flick Phainon's forehead and he cowers at the sudden pain, pouting at you like you had done something worse. "Stop instigating fights, Phai, or I'll make you fend for yourself while Mydei and I enjoy some nice warm meals."
"Fine," he wraps a tight- almost possessive, arm around your waist. "I'm starved, lets go home."
An annoying buzz slices through the atmosphere, coming from the wrist of both men.
Another call.
Phainon glances down at you like a kicked puppy, an apology already brewing in his eyes.
"It's fine," you say before either of them could say anything. "I understand completely."
"Sorry, Y/n, this couldn't have come at any worse of a time." The blond mumbles, eyes down at his watch.
You glance up at your lover, your hand coming to hold the one thats around your waist. "I'll still cook. As soon as you're done, come home and eat, okay? You too, Mydei, and if Castorice is available too, invite her as well."
"What if it's really late?" Phainon asks, voice quiet and guilty.
"I don't care what time, just come home," you rise up to place a quick kiss against his lips before gently urging him to leave.
What you expected to be a night filled with company is spent alone, with nothing but the sound of food cooking and music occupying the empty space. You worriedly wait for any sort of message from Phainon, glancing every so often at your phone as you plate, as you eat, as you clean, as you wrap the leftovers.
Nothing ever comes. Not until near midnight, after you have spent the whole night trying not to tug your hair out.
My Hero <3: Coming home now, sunshine.
My Hero <3: Are you still awake?
You: yeah, i'll wait up for you guys.
My Hero <3: We'll be there in 20!
My Hero <3: Castorice says she'd love to come too.
You: perfect! what about hyacine?
My Hero <3: She needs to go home :(
You: that's fine, i'll see you soon.
My Hero <3: Thank you, my love.
True to their word, twenty minutes later, there are superheroes sitting on your dining table with heated up meals in front of them. Fatigue clings to your eyes, and you're actively battling sleep as you listen to the three chat, but you try to absorb the moment as much as you can, conversing with Mydei about the ingredients you used and the new grocery store that just opened nearby, talking to Castorice about Pollux and everything she might be up to.
They leave a few minutes after their plates are cleared, thanking you sincerely as Phainon walks them down and out of the apartment complex.
"I'll do the dishes," he murmurs softly, engulfing you in a hug from behind when he returns.
"Are you sure?"
"You've had a long day, babe, go sleep."
"Not as long as yours."
He scoffs. "Sunshine, please, I know you're any moment from crashing."
You laugh, deciding to relent. "Alright. Come to bed soon, okay?"
A pair of lips press against your forehead, his arms squeezing you tightly for a moment before letting you slip away.
~ THREE:
There's a low whistle behind you. Phainon's appreciative gaze is what greets you when you turn toward the source of the sound, and like a magnet drawn to metal, his hands snake around your waist. His touch is gentle, reverent, treating you like delicate china and your breath hitches when his fingers graze over a sensitive spot.
His smirk only grows when you shudder against him.
"I almost don't want to leave now," he murmurs before pressing dainty kisses along the shell of your ear. "I mean, it'll be fine if we cancel now, right?"
You stop his hand from going snaking down any lower, giving him a weak glare through the mirror. "You wanna cancel our anniversary dinner because you can't keep it in your pants?"
"My sunshine looks so beautiful, I wanna show you how you make me feel."
"After," you scold, going back to adjusting your hair in the mirror.
"Fine," he doesn't detach from you, glued to your back like a koala, except he towers over you and keeps admiring your reflection with hearts in his eyes. Every so often, he places a kiss somewhere he can reach, and you placate him with a ruffle of his hair before going back to getting ready.
Music plays softly from your phone, and he hums along intermittently, vibrations thrumming along your back.
"You good there, babe?" You ask after a completing your final touchups.
He blinks slowly, "yeah, just admiring the view."
"Ready to go?"
"Ready whenever you are, sunshine."
You shiver at the feather-light kisses he presses along your jaw, giggling at the ticklish sensation while trying to create some distance between you.
"I can't help it, just can't believe you're mine."
He's throwing hearts with his eyes right now, and if you turned your head to the left slightly, you would have seen the tenderness brewing behind those blues.
The walk out is surprisingly peaceful. Phainon keeps his hands to himself like a respectful gentleman, save for the touch on the small of your back, and the way he knelt down to help put your shoes on. You don't comment on the small kiss he places on the side of your knee just before he stands to his full height.
The night is going seamless, but what goes up must come down, because only a few minutes after you place your orders, a buzzing from his wrist interrupts the warm ambience.
Both of you fall silent, and the candle flickers vividly as his face contorts into a series of emotions. It looked like it physically pained him to leave you.
"Go," you urge. "Before it's too late."
"What about you?"
"What about me?"
He can't leave you, not when you look so perfect and you've both been looking forward to this night for a long time. That's awful, you don't deserve that at all.
His watch still buzzes frantically as his heart fights with his brain.
"The night was only just beginning-"
"Phainon." You say decisively. "Go."
Reluctantly, he pushes out of his chair with a look that says he clearly does not condone this, even as he places a farewell kiss on the back of your hand, even as he powerwalks out of the restaurant, already unbuttoning his suit. Still, his gaze lingers at you, savouring the sight before he goes and punishes whoever has stolen him away from you.
You lean back into your chair with a disappointed sigh. Once again, Phainon was whisked away away from you, and now it was just you in this vast, bustling restaurant, a candlelit dinner with no one but yourself.
How sad.
When the waiter came to check up on you, pointed look in the direction of Phainon's chair, you told him something important came up. You hated the way humiliation creeped in your ribs as you tried to save face, defending your lover with no hesitation, even if the empty spot on the other side of the table told another tale.
You really did try to insist that it was important, the fate-of-a-city-hangs-in-the-balance kind of importance, but the waiter murmurs a conflicted 'alright' before coming back with your food and an extra glass of refreshments with more side dishes- on the house.
The night ends far earlier than you expected, walking out of the restaurant with his dish packed away securely in your hands.
You wait for him when you get home, methodically getting unready with soft music in the background, fitting the big bouquet he got you that morning into the largest vase you could find, killing time with mundane activities that you were not anticipating for your anniversary.
When sleep tugs at your eyes, and he still hasn't come home, you bite your cheek nervously. Him working so late was not a rare occurrence, but the ache has never been easy to quell, not when the only remedy is blindly trusting that Phainon will come home in one piece and he'll be beside you in the morning when you wake.
You: going to bed now, text me when you see this
You: love you, stay safe
It's 3am, nearing 4 when Tribbie's portal sends him back to his living room, Khaslana form cramped in the coziness of your shared space, the outermost feathers of his wings just narrowly missing the delicate decorations you've placed around the space. Weeping golden cracks close, jagged edges soften, halo and weapon disappearing into nothingness, it's Phainon who turns off the nightlight you set for him.
It's Phainon's tired footsteps that trudge against hardwood floors as he makes a beeline for your shared bedroom, kicking his clothes off layer by layer on the way, discarding tailored fabrics in the hallway as his heavy heart aches.
It's Phainon who breathes a sigh of relief when he sees you, lying peacefully asleep on the bed.
Your back is facing him, body snug under the covers as he quietly crawls over to you, hands reaching for whatever he can grab as he lays behind you, wrapping you up in his embrace.
He feels the way your chest slowly expands against his, how warm your hands are from being nestled under the covers, how adoration thrums through his veins, even as he does something as simple as holding you.
Despite his drowsiness and the way his body begs for sleep after such a demanding mission, his heart is restless.
Se sits up and leans over you, admires what he can of your expresion through the little light that filters through the windows.
The love of his life that he has to, devastatingly, let down more often than he'd like.
He lowers his lips to your cheekbones and places a lingering kiss on your skin. He presses more, and more, and more, hoping to engrain his love into you, to let it seep through your pores and into your veins so you know the magnitude of his devotion.
Titans, he adores you, what would he do without you?
It's unfair that life has to take him away from you. Vaguely, his mind rewinds to the night, how quickly you masked your disappointment when he was being summoned, how you tried to reassure him with that unsure smile of yours, how he never wanted to leave you at a table alone again, even if you are the one pushing him away.
You really are just too selfless.
Isn't that what he loves about you, though?
"Phainon?" You rustle, whining softly. He freezes, face hovering mere centimetres from yours as you turn to him, "is that you?"
He gulps, guilt settling in his gut at disturbing you. Yet, he can't bring himself to feel completely bad about it, especially not when its your voice he gets to hear, raspy from sleep or not. "Yeah, sunshine, it's me."
"What time is it?"
"Late. I'm sorry for waking you."
Your hand comes to his face, awkwardly patting around before they find his cheek; the exact spot you love cradling, and he sinks into you like sand. "It's okay," you murmur, "I'm glad you're safe and sound."
"Yeah," he whispers, "I'm glad, too."
"How was the mission?"
"Went off without a hitch. But our date-"
"Right, your food is in the fridge, got takeaway."
"That's not what I was trying to say. I'll plan another one soon to make up for it, I promise. No distractions this time."
"Rest first, Phai," you scrunch your nose, "and wash."
"Do I smell?"
"Like a superhero. Yeah."
He smiles, and he's sure you can hear it in his words. "Isn't that a good thing?"
"No, I don't like it," you murmur bluntly before retreating back under the covers, tucking them up to your chin.
"I'll go clean up then."
"M'kay."
With one last, very long kiss to your temple, he pushes off you.
~ FOUR:
Phainon is already awake when you open your eyes, the vacant bed beside you already made, but the low hum of the coffee machine whirring tempts you away from your cozy spot. Bare feet hitting wooden floors, he greets you with a warm, loving smile, exercise shirt hugging the planes of his chest and arms.
"Good morning!"
You mumble back the pleasantry, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. "Where are you headed?"
"I've been called to HQ, incident reports… something like that. Thought I might as well make a morning run from it."
"What'd you do?"
He makes this guilty looking face. "Might have accidentally destroyed a few top floors."
"Phai!"
"It's fine! No one was hurt because evacuation went smoothly, besides, it was for the bigger picture- don't give me that look! Nevermind, I made you coffee." He sets the steaming cup before you with a kiss to your forehead. "Oh, also, I'll reschedule our anniversary date at another place, maybe a rooftop restuarant this time?"
"Are you sure you'll make it this time?"
The hand that was playing with your hair stills, and you feel the atsmosphere shift. You feign ignorance as you take a sip of your homemade drink that was exactly to your liking, the method perfected years ago by Phainon.
"Sunshine?" He begins, voice abnormally sweet.
"Hm?"
"Is there something you want to say to me?"
"What do you think I have to say?"
His cheek twitches. "If you're upset at me, you can say it outright."
Phainon watches you set down your cup, turn to face him, and throw your arms around his neck, standing up on your toes to reach his height. He looks you right in your tired eyes, momentarily glancing down at your lips that are jutted out in a small pout.
"Do I look mad?" You ask.
"You look like the love of my life," he's about to lean in until you push at his chest, stopping him.
"Don't try appease me by flirting. If you're going to book an anniversary dinner, make sure it will go uninterrupted. I understand emergencies are inevitable, but I just want to have you to myself at least once."
He nods, snowy hair bouncing enthusiastically. Of course, he promises, but you're getting tired of over-exercised promises and redundant oaths.
Still, you love him too much. You'll always love Phainon.
"You're forgiven, you should probably get going now," you straighten his collar and pat down his broad shoulders.
"I should but… can I get a goodbye kiss first?" His blue eyes shine with want and his hands firmly hold your hips, pulling you to his chest. He cranes his head to your height, chasing after your lips for something you won't grant.
"Don't, I've got morning breath," you warn.
"I don't care," he murmurs, mouth slotting against yours, drinking the air from your lungs.
When you try to make space, he simply follows, selfish and heedless when it comes to you. He'll keep taking everything you give until he's satisfied, and even then, Phainon is no better than a bottomless pit of greed, trying to press himself closer to try and mould your atoms together.
When he parts, your heavy breaths circulate between you, head beginning to spin.
He leaves a few minutes later, with a promise of a date and catching up on all the kisses he's missed.
Goodness, was he serious.
The coolness of the sheets beneath you are a stark contrast to the buzzing beneath your skin, the heat above you completely encompassing and wild as Phainon's mouth is everywhere. From your left, you hear the rustle of sheets, his hand bunching the fabric into a tight ball as his other hand runs up your leg, folding your thigh to sit snug against his hip. The delicate fabric of your outfit falls with the action, and when he parts, a string of saliva connects your tongue with his.
When you joked about a second round of dessert, you were not expecting him to drag you out of the restauarant, speed down empty streets so fast that you were holding on to the car door for dear life, and begin slobbering all over you in the elevator. Pressing you up against the mirrors, he began before the doors could even slide shut, hands all over your face, waist, hips, ass- anything he could grab.
Between kisses, hot licks, and bites, are confessions are love being etched into your skin. As you unbutton his suit, hands snaking underneath his lapels, he glues his mouth to your neck, panting.
When you sit up, he follows, obedient when you sit him on the mattress instead. His eyes unsubtly glance down at your half-exposed chest as you crawl over his muscular body, drinking up the view of his sky blue eyes that are now cloudy with desire. Gone was the heated beast who wanted nothing more but to devour your skin, replacing it was a compliant lover who shuddered with every sinful touch.
You lower yourself over his crotch and he rolls his head back, grunting.
"My hero is so handsome," you coo, brushing strands of his hair aside, revealing more of the flush that's crawled to his face.
"Ha- calling me that now ? Does it delight you?" He chuckles, hiding his flusteredness behind light jokes, but a drag of your finger along his sternum and abdominals has his muscles clenching.
You hum. "It does delight me to see you so susceptible, because I'm the only one who can have you like this. Right?"
"Yes, the only one," he whines.
"What about Khaslana?"
"What about him?"
"Is he mine too?"
He moans when you lick a stripe up his neck, helping you take off his shirt as he nods desperately. "Yours, I'm all yours, Khaslana too, all of me has been yours and will always be yours."
You smile. "Good boy-"
His hands tangle into your hair, pulling your mouth right to his. His tongue is quick to dart out and brush against your bottom lip, tugging it between his teeth.
A shrill buzz cuts through the air.
Phainon loudly sighs as he glares at the watch on his wrist. You fix the neckline of your clothes and roll off him, watching him violently tap some buttons on the screen to silence it. Then, he leans over you once again, arms on either side of you as you're lying against the sheets, giggling at the featherlight kisses he places along your mandible.
"Ph-Phai, you should probably leave now."
He grumbles. "One more kiss."
One kiss turns to several more, until you're pushing him by the shoulders, urging him to leave. Which he does so very reluctantly, grumbling under his breath the whole time.
You go to bed alone that night, an unsettling premonition stewing in your gut as you tuck the covers over your chin and try to ignore the heavy void beside you. When you wake, Phainon's side of the bed is completely unblemished, cold to the touch, no indication that he had ever been here. A call of his name is met with silence and any indication of life beside you is nonexistent, not even a message on your phone from him.
Maybe the mission ran longer than expected.
You refresh your messages and news constantly, obsessing over any update or new notification like it'd be the salvation you were hoping for, an indication that you were approaching the light at the end of the tunnel. You pick at your skin and bite at your nails and run your hands through your hair, but nothing gets him home faster, nothing grants you the sight you truly wish to see.
Even as you stare out at the Okheman horizon on the balcony, mentally praying to the stars for him to come home.
Stillness is something that does not exist while living with Phainon, so in his absence, silence beats louder, time moves slower, and stagnation exists in the periphery, slowly closing in.
After two nights of missing his warmth and buzzing around the apartment with anxiety, there's a heavy knock on the front door. Your heart spikes, head spinning to the source of the sound. In the haven of your apartment, living room walls coated by cold sun rays, atmosphere occupied by the thrum of your running dishwasher and the video playing from your laptop, the voice you've been waiting to hear slices through it all.
"Sunshine? It's me."
The journey from the couch to the front door is completed in a blink, finally remembering how to breathe when you see him.
"Phainon," you whisper.
He's completely worn-down, eyebags prominent, shoulders slumped, but affection still gleams on his face and he's not beyond a gentle smile of reassurance.
"You're home."
He slumps into your open arms, finding no issue leaning all his weight against you. His snowy hair brushes against the side of your neck as his arms bring you as close as humanly possible, the fatigue weighing him down like iron.
"Let's get you to bed, superhero."
Unceremoniously, he collapses onto the mattress with a grunt, sprawled over the covers.
"Do you need water? Some snacks, maybe?"
He shakes his head and simply reaches for your waist.
"I just need you," he grumbles, pulling you down to him.
When your body is flush against his, head underneath his chin and legs intertwined, he sighs in relief and a ghost of a smile makes its way to his face. For the first time in two days, the silence is peaceful, and not a stark reminder of who is not here with you, of who cannot stay by your side all the time.
You press your face closer to his neck and listen to his heartbeat
~ FIVE:
It's almost ridiculous how the universe goes out of its way to spite you.
While you sat pretty and patient outside the Okheman Archives Museum, waiting for your artifact-enthusiast of a boyfriend to show up, your excitement for the date was stomped out before it could even begin. Especially after how hard you tried to get tickets to this highly rated 'Amphorean History in Ceramics' exhibition, which you would have never attended if it weren't for him and his passion in appraisal.
You even put more consideration into your work outfit today so it'd be gallery-appropriate, and you had been looking forward to this tradition of sorts for the whole day… only for a call from the man himself to dimish it.
"Don't cook tonight, okay baby?" He yells over the phone, wind whipping through the speakers. "I'll be home before dinner, we can get takeout- your favourite, and watch that movie you've been meaning to see, okay?"
"Okay."
"Sunshine… what's wrong?"
"Nothing. Nothing's wrong, Phai, just-" you pinch your nosebridge and swing your bag over your shoulder. "Be safe out there."
"You know I will. I gotta go now, I love you."
"Bye."
"Wait, you can't leave without saying-"
You disconnect the call and shut off your phone… though not without a follow-up message.
You: i love you
Tucking the device into your bag, you begin the trip back home with the setting Okheman sun beaming into your eyes, and the wind blowing hair out of your face quite violently; just what you need after your superhero of a boyfriend cancels on you for the nth time.
When you found out about Phainon and Khaslana being one person, you were understanding and accomodating at first, and obviously freaked out that the nerdy, innocent-looking, puppy of a man you called your boyfriend had the ability to move planets. Despite how surreal it was, you knew what you were staying for. Missing nights, waking up to him not being there in the morning, sudden calls- none of these were foreign nor out of your expectations.
You kick a stray pebble in the road with a little too much force, and wonder if you were being too childish.
Can you even justify being upset with him when lives were at stake?
But how can you be second to the whole world in your own relationship?
Phainon barges through the front door at 8:30pm with bags of takeout, dumped haplessly on the kitchen counter in favour of clinging to you, wailing, acting nothing like his stoic, superhero counterpart.
"Don't ever hang up without saying 'I love you' back!" He whines loudly, rocking you back and forth in his arms while you took the food out from their containers. "A message won't suffice, and I don't care if you're upset at me, you have to say it every time, or I'll call you until you pick up!"
"And if I don't?"
"I'll call you over and over again, until it's your voice I hear and not your voicemail that tricks me every time."
"Won't the other heirs get mad at you if you pull that stunt? Especially Lady Aglaea?" The white-haired falls silent.
A quick raise of your eyebrow declares victory, but he's not satisfied at all, so he tugs you into his chest, keeping you there while demanding him to stop suffocating you in his pecs. It wasn't until he made you promise him that you'd never hang up on him again without an 'I love you' that you were finally set free from his iron grip, gasping for air.
Immediately, he's by your side again, big, blue eyes shining down at you. "Can you say you love me?"
"Right now?"
"Well, in my humble opinion, you should always love me."
Good grief. You roll your eyes and grab a plate. Unfortunately for you, he is the man that has your heart in a merciless headlock.
"I love you, Phainon."
~ SIX:
The Titans were testing the bounds of your strength.
After all this pent-up frustration that had nowhere to go, who knew that disaster striking in your own home city would become the be-all-end-all?
The day began with a long stroll to start the morning when all of a sudden, a bang to your right was heard, followed by the crumbling sound of concrete. Phainon had shielded you immediately, tugging you into the safety of his chest until it all went quiet.
Chaos erupted a split second after.
Cars beeping, people screaming, pushing others on the pavement, all running away from the settling debris and smoke that drifted into the clear Okheman skies. Your own heart began racing, but through it all, you could still make out the sound of Phainon's watch urgently beeping.
With the disaster right before him, you wondered why he wasn't making an immediate break for it.
Until you realised it was you he still tethered to, hands on either side of your shoulders, trying to guide you to safety by urging you to follow him. What on Amphoreus was he doing?
"Phainon! Stop worrying about me!" You exclaim, prying his hands off you. "Go! Go now!"
"But I need to make sure you're safe!" He insists.
"I'm fine, but there are people who aren't. They need you!"
"I also need to be with you!"
"How are we having this conversation right now- go!"
His eyebrows furrow even deeper, "at least let me escort you out of the block. The other Heirs can manage without me, c'mon."
"No, Phainon!" You shriek, heart dropping to your feet when you see a civillian free-falling from the top of the high-rise; mere seconds away from a gruesome end while everyone's beloved superhero was still standing in front of you as stubborn as a mule.
Khaslana wouldn't get to him in time, even with his inhumane abilities, it was a losing fight, and you could possibly be the reason someone's life couldn't get saved in time-
A flash of glowing red catches the victim, snatching him from the air. Following suit, a trio of superheroes on a rocket, soaring through the sky and destroying larger pieces of debris.
You heave a sigh of relief, thanking Mydeimos, Tribbie, Trianne, and Trinnon mentally.
"Deliverer!" Mydei bellows, his roar echoing through the streets and effortlessly reaching where you and the man he was calling for stood.
Finally, finally, Phainon makes a move in the right direction, turning around with a sour expression on his face.
"Go," you push at his back. "Go!"
When you get home, you slump against the door and sink, exhausted. The security guard downstairs asked about your safety before informing you that the Chrysos Heirs already subdued most of the chaos, now left to chase down the organisation that started this.
'Thanks to them, we sleep better at night' he cheered with a dip of his hat before the elevator doors closed.
Your throat is still sore from how hard you had to yell at Phainon. The itch at the back of your throat persists, forcing you to think back to how unmoving Phainon was. Even while within distance of the incident, it took a fearsome cry from Mydei to finally get Khaslana moving.
Has this… ever happened before? Have you ever been the reason Khaslana was too late to save someone?
All the times his watch buzzed yet he didn't move a muscle, eyes shining so brightly with guilt as they bore into you as if you were the one physically affected, like the time after the café visit, at your anniversary dinners, just then- you slam your empty cup into the sink.
Are you hindering his duties?
Khaslana enters your apartment through Tribbie's Infinity Gate.
The portal whooshing open in the middle of your living room, and out from the frame, steps the magnificent hero; a melting pot of gold, divinity, and terror. To you, he is none of those things; you look at him and see the love of your life who reserves his softest of smiles for you.
He hovers his way over to you.
"You okay? Not hurt anywhere?"
You shake your head. "What about you? How did the mission go?"
"Good. Fast."
"Phai, you know I love you, right?"
"Of course I do, sunshine."
You bite your lower lip and cast your gaze down at your lap, a whirlwind of emotions swirling behind your eyes. His clawed hand gently prompts you to look at him, sharp fingers curled around your cheek, your smooth skin a humane contrast to the ragged edges that make Khaslana Khaslana.
Khaslana isn't exactly human- no, he's half-beast and half-demigod, but still, his heart aches at how sad you seem.
"Baby," he croaks, "what's wrong?"
"Do you think it's better if we parted ways?" You ask meekly.
He freezes, silence stretching tensibly. For one moment.
Two.
Three.
He scrambles to his knees, bones hitting the floor with a dull thud as his hands cling to your thighs. "Y/n, if this is a joke then it's not funny. Is this how you're punishing me? You know I'm-"
"It's not a joke."
He makes a sound akin to a wounded animal, superhero form crowding the space around the coffee table as his wings flutter wildly; a mirror of his frantic emotions, the ones he can't show as the stone-faced Khaslana. The grip he has on your thigh is very telling, the way he digs into your skin like an anchor onto a seabed.
"Why?"
"With the most recent call, the casualties that were just narrowly avoided…" you inhale deeply before exhaling shakily. "It's best that I don't interfere with what you do, maybe… there's just no space where we can work on top of your duties."
"Don't say that," he pleads, "you couldn't be more wrong, don't say things like that."
"It's true though."
"It's not, I need you. I don't care if there's no 'space' for us, I'll carve it out, I'll make it happen, I'll do anything as long as you're here with me."
"It's not just that, though. I-" you falter, tearing your gaze away to look past him. "I overestimated how strong I am, but all the time I've spent worrying over you has worn me down. I don't know how much longer I can go wondering if you're okay or not, this isn't healthy."
"Y/n," he whispers your name like it's sacred, "please tell me you don't mean that, please."
"I do mean it. I love you, but this is killing me slowly."
"Then- then I'll fix it, I'll do anything, just wait a little longer, please. I'll talk to the other heirs, they'll understand! Especially Teacher Tribios and Lady Aglaea, they'll find a solution-"
Your fingers curl around his. "There's no permanent fix, Phai. I'll just always be here, anxiously waiting to find out if you're still breathing or not, but Amphoreus needs you. These two things will never change, you can't fix one to save the other."
"So you're already giving up without giving me a chance?"
"I can't love both Phainon and Khaslana."
You're not happy with him.
He's heaving at this point, hands shaking where they hold onto you so tight, doubling over his own hiccups and sobs as his heart breaks at the idea of you not being in his life. Of not making coffee the exact way you like it. Of not turning off a light that you leave on so he doesn't have to stumble through the darkness when he comes home at awful hours of the night. Of not coming home to you after a successful mission, of never having his safe haven and comfort place again.
Your absence, an emptiness he'd have to shoulder for the rest of his life, grieving over what he could have done to stop you from leaving.
That's not acceptable to him. He doesn't want that reality.
"Please," Khaslana begs into your skin, head pressed into your lap like a beggar. "Stay with me. You're the one that matters to me most. I can't do this if you're not here."
"I'm making it easier for the both of us."
"You're being stubborn. You think losing you makes things easier for me? No way," he shakes his head aggressively, "not in this lifetime, or any other."
"But you're a hero. Everyone loves you."
"I don't care what I am to everyone else, I care about being yourhero."
"You are my hero, Phai, but- but maybe it's better to be one at arms length."
He jolts up, blazing eyes holding your gaze. "No, never at arms length, please. Not with you. I'll do anything."
Suddenly, his weapon manifests from glowing light. A smaller version of the claymore he iconically wields, but it still holds the ability to slice through Amphoreus' crust with little effort… and he holds it dangerously close to his right wing.
"W-What are you doing?" you ask anxiously.
"If it wasn't for Khaslana, would you stay with me?"
"I'm not asking you to choose between Phainon or Khaslana, please, put your sword away!"
"You're asking me to choose between Khaslana or you, and if Khaslana is the problem" his golden eyes darken, "then I'd kill him without hesitation."
Your breath hitches when he raises the weapon above his head. One swing and it'd slice the feathers smooth off.
Frantically, you encase his warm fist with your colder hands, a pathetic attempt at stopping him that he obeys nonetheless, keeping his hand raised and frozen while staring up at you, at your mercy.
As if you had the strength to overpower him.
"Phainon, stop, don't do this."
"I'm going to lose you otherwise," he whispers.
"Don't dismember yourself for me!"
"Then how else will you stay?"
"But Khaslana is your-"
"I don't care," he hisses, his fury beginning to bubble, threatening to spill over. It's not directed at you though, Titans, it could never be because of you. "If Khaslana is the reason you want to leave me, I'll destroy him."
"Don't do that!"
"What other choice do I have?"
You bite your lip. "I won't go. I'll stay."
His wings flutter. "Really?"
"Really."
"But what about your-"
"I'll stay, Phainon."
The sword in his hand disappears and he all but collapses on you, torso thrown over your thighs as he sobs, the ache of almost losing you slowly dissipating as you play with his hair.
Every coax of your hand running along his back has him slowly transforming back into his regular form; wings shrinking back, hair turning back into a brilliant shade of white, the blues returning to his eyes only emphasising his sadness as he looks at you like you're the most precious thing he has.
"Never leave me," he whispers, voice raw while rubbing circles on your calf. "Please, I could never survive that heartbreak."
You don't say anything, just let him cry while slowly watching him turn back into the Phainon you know; the man that is yours and yours alone, but is draining your will to have.
His now-human hands wrap around your wrist tightly, bringing it up to his face as he desperately nuzzles into your palm, clinging onto whatever warmth you will spare. "Tell me you love me."
"I love you."
He chokes over his own sobs, tears falling onto your skin as your thumb collects some of the crystals, but his cries only worsen when you bring your other hand up to his cheek as well, cradling his face as Phainon holds onto your wrists with a vice grip, terrified you might slip away.
You:where are you!! >:(
You: don't tell me you got swept away by another mission
You huff at your phone, obviously displeased as you shove the device into your pocket with more aggression than necessary. The nerve of this man! What happened to being punctual?
He has the tickets, after all, if he doesn't show up (again), you wouldn't even be able to get in!
"There you are!" You jump out of your seat and take long strides toward your white-haired boyfriend, arms crossed and eyebrows slightly furrowed, beyond hiding your annoyance. He's breathing heavily, and sweat coagulates at his hairline, covering his forehead in a slight sheen.
"Ow, ow, ow!" He yelps when your fingers pinch his ear. "I got really caught up at the bank, they were being so slow! Mercy on me, sunshine, please!"
You sigh, letting him go. "Alright."
Phainon smiles softly when you let him wrap an arm around your waist, bringing you flush to his side. "I'm sorry, are you mad at me?"
"It's fine. I was just afraid you wouldn't show up… again."
"I wouldn't miss this for the world."
"Don't say that. Remember what I said about false hope?"
"Sunshine," he frowns, that familiar ache in his chest persisting when you refused to even glance up at him. "Y/n, you know that I-"
"It's fine, Phai."
He would honestly rather you just stab him, a wound from Dawnmaker would be easier to mend compared to all the metaphorical ones you've been throwing at his heart recently.
You grab his hand, wrapping your fingers tightly around his. "C'mon, lets not waste any more time standing around."
Inside the museum, you keenly listen to every fact Phainon conjures as he points at random artifacts, humming deep in thought as he reads the engraved plaques near them. Even as you pass by exhibition after exhibition, he keeps spewing facts that even tour guides spontaneously join in and begin discussing with him.
All the while, you hold onto his arm tightly, nodding and humming thoughtfully with not much else to contribute, just thankful to finally spend time with him.
Phainon's just grateful you haven't ran away yet, putting extra effort into making sure you're entertained and not bored by some historic relics that you only came to see because of him. He had to do some of his own research beforehand, scrolling endlessly through wikipages, his poor teleslate beginning to overheat with how many tabs he had open.
But… anything for you, he surmises.
Every so often, his fingers ghost over the pocket of his trench coat, making sure that the ring is still there.
Truthfully, he hadn't gone to the bank, he went to the finest jeweller in town (per Aglaea's recommendation) and spent hours inside, navigating through dozens of rings just to find the one for you, and it had to be no less than perfect.
To say he got a little caught up was an understatement. By the time the velvet box was in his hands, he realised he only had fifteen minutes to dash halfway across downtown.
Could you really blame a man in love for trying? Especially after a recent scare, and how close he was to losing you, he was not going to repeat that mistake. The world may love Khaslana, but Khaslana loves only you, and Phainon will happily devote the rest of his life proving it to you.
“if you’re plus sized you can just shop on shein/amazon/cider, they have a good selection!!” yeah but i don’t want to rely on fast fashion. i think fat people deserve more ethical and high quality clothing choices
everyone on replies is terrified of this fact but i just think it's so sweet and heartwarming. she's holding our hand and leading us somewhere secret and we're both giggling like kids. i love her
I missed SO many prompts this week. 😭 My inktober momentum was on a good pace until mid-month…then all my energy (and ideas) evaporated. I blame sleep deprivation and a crazy schedule. I might try combining all the missed prompts into one illustration later.
Synopsis: You disappeared years ago. No goodbye, no explanation just the echo of their name on your lips and a secret you carried with you.
A child.
Their child.
Mikey (Sano Manjiro):
At first, when he heard the news, Mikey’s expression hardly changed. As the head of one of the most feared gangs in Tokyo, he had trained himself never to let emotions slip. A child, in his world, could only mean weakness — risk.
But then his gaze fell on the photograph lying on his desk.
You were in it, a small boy cradled in your arms. Suddenly, the silence around him grew heavier. In that moment, he understood why you had disappeared without a word.
The picture captured you perfectly, as if fate had framed it just for him. The fluorescent lights of a grocery store cast a soft glow along your profile, illuminating you in the same way he remembered from the last time he saw you. You looked just as beautiful — maybe even more. A gentle smile touched your lips as your eyes focused on the food in front of you.
His dark eyes lowered to the boy in your arms. The child had his hair, but your eyes. The resemblance was undeniable, and it made his chest tighten.
He lingered on the image, tracing every detail with his gaze. You were still you — still beautiful, still living, still moving forward. Judging by the uniform you wore, you had probably just come back from work. Ordinary, quiet… a life far from his.
And yet, the photograph bound you to him more than ever.
“What do we do?” Sanzu interrupted Mikey’s thoughts. He stood right behind him, not looking directly at Mikey, his eyes fixed instead on the picture on the table.
Mikey stayed silent for a while, still trying to process this information. Even now, when you had your peaceful life with his son, the truth was undeniable. The baby looked far too much like him. And that made you a target as well.
He wanted you safe — by his side. But he couldn’t rush it. It would only scare you, especially with his face plastered across the news everywhere.
“Protect her from the shadows. I don’t want to risk anything.”
Mikey’s voice finally cut through the room.
Without a word, Sanzu pulled his phone from his pocket as he moved toward the door, leaving the room quietly.
Meanwhile, the eyes of the head of Bonten softened for just a second as he looked at the photo once more.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
In the last couple of days, you had felt followed constantly. The sensation worried you to the point where you grew paranoid, convinced something could happen at any second of your day.
What unsettled you even more was the thought of your son — the son of the head of Bonten, the most feared criminal organization.
When you first found out you were pregnant, fear consumed you, both for yourself and for your baby. So you left him in silence — without a single word. You knew it was for the best. You didn’t want a life for your child where the risk of being killed could loom over him at any moment.
But now…
Now you could finally feel his presence looming in the dark somewhere, and it worried you. Had he finally found out? Was he angry? What would happen next?
Fear crawled through your bones. You looked over at your son lying in his bed, sleeping peacefully as if the world were the safest place. His blond hair was scattered across the pillow. A small, fleeting smile touched your face as you made sure he was still deep asleep.
You sighed.
You knew something was coming your way — and that this peace would probably be over soon.
And how right you were.
A knock.
It was clear as day. You turned toward the door, your heart pounding as if the devil himself were standing right behind it. You knew it was him. There was no running, no escaping — not from this.
You were trapped with the feeling, the fear of what was about to happen. Especially because there was no escaping someone like him.
::::::::::::::::::::
You opened the door slowly. For a moment, you hoped it was just your neighbor needing something from you. But that fragile hope shattered the instant you saw him — the short white hair, the black coat, and that tired smile lingering on his lips.
He stood in front of you, eyes scanning every detail of your appearance, as if searching for something — a sign, a meaning, perhaps even an answer to the question of why you had left. Though deep down, you knew he had already found that answer for himself.
You wanted to run. To slam the door in his face and scream at him to leave. But you also knew he wouldn’t.
So instead, with your heart hammering, you stepped aside.
Letting him in once more.
His eyes followed you as the two of you moved into the kitchen. Their weight burned into your soul, and when you finally turned to face him, his voice cut through the silence.
“You should not have left.”
It was the first thing he said to you after what felt like an eternity.
“I know,” you replied immediately, your gaze fixed anywhere but his eyes.
You turned away, unwilling to see what would happen next.
His silence lingered after your words, heavy and suffocating. You could hear the faint ticking of the clock on the wall, each second stretching longer than the last.
Then, footsteps. Slow, deliberate.
Mikey closed the distance between you until you could feel the weight of his presence at your back. You didn’t have to turn around to know his eyes were fixed on you, sharp as a blade yet unreadable.
“You think I didn’t look for you?” His voice was calm, but there was something raw underneath — a dangerous mix of hurt and control. “Every day, I knew you were out there. And every day, I waited for you to come back.”
Your fingers curled against the countertop, your body stiff. You wanted to answer, to explain, but your throat tightened before any words could form.
A few seconds passed before you felt the faintest brush of warmth — his hand on the counter beside yours, close but not touching.
“I saw the picture,” Mikey continued, softer now. “He looks like me. Too much like me.” A pause. “You know what that means, don’t you?”
You froze, staring at the floor.
“That boy…” Mikey’s tone hardened, laced with something dangerous, “is my son. Which makes you mine too. Did you really think you could disappear and raise him on your own? Hide him from me?”
You swallowed, but no words came. His presence pressed down on you, cold and absolute.
Mikey stepped closer, his shadow engulfing you. “You don’t get to run anymore. Not with my blood in your arms.” His lips twitched into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “You and the boy… you belong at my side. Always.”
The urge to push him away, to scream, burned in your chest — but you knew it was useless. He wasn’t threatening you out of anger. He was stating a fact, one that would bind you tighter than chains ever could.
His fingers finally brushed against your wrist, deceptively gentle. “I’ll protect you. Both of you. But don’t ever think of leaving me again. Because next time… I’ll make sure you can’t.”
Sanzu never spoke about the time you had spent together. He would never, in his life, even consider saying that he loved you. Mikey was his priority, and he was glad it had stayed that way.
So why?
Why were you walking there with a child, his tiny hand wrapped around yours? Why?
Why did the child look like him?
What kind of twisted dream was he caught in this time?
He didn’t know what to feel. His heart whispered that he was happy to see you again. On the other hand, sadness clawed at him — sadness that he wasn’t the one walking beside you. But above all, there was anger. Anger that you had left him without a word. And even though he now understood why you did it, the fury still burned. How dare you.
Before he even realized it, his body was already moving. He was walking behind you, closing the distance, his hand shooting out to grab your wrist harshly, forcing you to stop.
Your eyes widened as you saw who it was. Those scars — you would recognize them anywhere.
“Good to see you here.”
His eyes burned into you.
You froze under his grip, your breath caught in your throat. The child tugged lightly on your other hand, confused, looking up at the man who held you so tightly.
Sanzu’s eyes followed the motion, dropping down to the small boy.
The world seemed to still around him. His chest tightened as he took in the details — the familiar line of the jaw, the messy strands of hair that matched his own. But then those eyes… your eyes, staring back at him from the face of a child.
His lips parted slightly, but no words came. For once, Sanzu was silent.
The boy tilted his head, innocent and unbothered, before hiding shyly against your leg. That small movement snapped something inside him.
“You…” Sanzu’s voice cracked, caught between disbelief and fury. He tightened his hold on your wrist, dragging you a little closer. “You had my kid? And you ran?” His laugh was sharp, bitter, unhinged. “Fuck, of course you did.”
You tried to calm your voice, whispering his name, but he didn’t let you speak. His eyes stayed glued to the child, his breathing heavy, erratic.
For the first time in years, he looked undone. Vulnerable. And yet, his next words were poison.
“You think you can just take him away from me? Live some quiet little life?” His gaze snapped back to you, wild and burning. “No. That’s not how this works. He’s mine. You’re mine. And I’m not letting you walk away again.”
The boy clutched your hand tighter, sensing the tension, and Sanzu’s expression twitched — a flicker of something softer, pained, almost human. But it was gone in an instant, buried under the storm in his eyes.
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
The boy peeked out from behind your leg, his small fingers still clutching your hand. His wide eyes — your eyes — blinked up at the scarred man holding your wrist.
“Mommy…” he said softly, tilting his head at Sanzu. “Who’s that?”
The sound of his voice hit Sanzu harder than any bullet. His grip faltered just slightly, his knuckles losing a fraction of their tension. Those words — that innocent question — made something flicker across his face.
He crouched down slowly, bringing himself to the boy’s height, his smile twisted but faintly trembling at the edges. “Me?” His voice came out lower, rougher. “I’m… someone you should’ve known a long time ago, kid.”
The boy tilted his head again, curiosity overriding fear. “Why are you holding Mommy like that? Are you angry?”
For a heartbeat, Sanzu actually looked stunned. His lips parted, but nothing came out. His eyes softened, glassy for a second, before the storm returned. He straightened, dragging you a step closer to him by your wrist, his breath hot against your ear.
“We’re going to talk,” he murmured darkly, his voice only for you now. “You and me. No more running.”
Before you could pull away, he tilted your chin up with his free hand, his thumb brushing your cheek in a touch far gentler than his grip on your wrist. And then, as if to stake his claim in front of the child and himself, he stole a kiss — hard, brief, possessive.
The boy frowned, confusion knitting his tiny brow. “Mommy… why is he kissing you?”
Sanzu pulled back just enough to smirk down at you, eyes still burning but now holding that faint, dangerous tremor. “Because she shouldn’t have left,” he said simply, before looking back at the child. “And because we’ve got a lot to talk about, don’t we?”
He crouched once more, his scarred face inches from the boy’s, but his voice was quieter, almost fragile. “Don’t worry, kid. I’m not here to hurt either of you. I’m here to take back what’s mine.”
Ran wasn’t paying much attention to where he was walking phone in one hand, music in his ears until something small and solid bumped into his leg.
He looked down, one brow arching.
A little boy stumbled back, blinking up at him with wide eyes. “S-sorry, mister!”
Ran chuckled, crouching down so he was eye level with the kid. “Whoa there, little man. You okay?”
The boy nodded quickly, clutching a small toy car in his hand. Ran’s grin widened but then froze halfway.
Black hair. Light eyes that were a mirror of his own. The same mischievous tilt of the mouth.
Ran blinked once, then twice, leaning in slightly. “Huh… you got a dad who looks like me or somethin’?” he asked, tone teasing but uncertain.
The boy tilted his head. “No… Mommy says my daddy’s gone.”
Ran’s smirk faltered for a split second before returning, a little tighter this time. He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around. “Right. Okay. So where’s Mommy, then? You runnin’ away or what?”
“She was buying food,” the boy said earnestly. “I lost her.”
“Well, can’t have you wanderin’ off, huh?” Ran straightened, brushing off his coat. “Guess I’ll be the hero for today. Let’s find your mom before she panics.”
He held out a hand. The boy hesitated, then took it. Ran couldn’t help but chuckle under his breath. The kid even walked like him.
They turned the corner into a quieter street, and that’s when he heard a familiar voice calling out a name. His smirk returned instantly.
You.
The same voice that had haunted his memories. The same face that had disappeared without a word.
“Mommy!” The boy let go of Ran’s hand and ran to you.
You froze mid-step, eyes locking onto the man standing a few feet away. His expression was a mix of disbelief and amusement.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” Ran said, laughing softly. “Out of all the people in Tokyo, I bump into your kid. What are the odds?”
You opened your mouth, but no sound came out.
He strolled closer, hands in his pockets, smirk playing at his lips. “Y’know, I was just thinking how much he looks like me. Turns out I was right.” His voice dropped a little, playful but edged. “You really went and made a mini Ran, huh?”
You sighed quietly. “Ran—”
“Relax,” he interrupted with a grin. “I’m not mad. Just surprised. Maybe a little offended you didn’t even call.”
His eyes softened for a brief second before that teasing smirk returned. “Guess I should say thanks for keeping him outta trouble. Though, with my blood, that might be a full-time job.”
He winked, and you couldn’t help the faint smile tugging at your lips — the same reaction he’d always been able to pull out of you.
“Damn,” Ran said quietly, gaze flicking between you and the boy. “Didn’t think I’d ever get to see something this… real.”
Then he smirked again, as if to shake off the weight of the moment. “So, how about we skip the awkward part and grab coffee? You can tell me all about how you managed to hide my mini-me from me.”
It was already dark when Rindou turned down the side street, his hands shoved in his pockets. Tokyo was loud as always — but the muffled sound of a sniffle broke through the noise.
He stopped.
There, sitting on a bench under a flickering streetlight, was a kid — maybe seven or eight — clutching a scraped knee and a bruised cheek. His uniform was messy, his backpack dumped beside him, and his expression screamed defiance even through the tears.
Rindou pulled one earbud out. “Oi,” he called, his tone casual but not unkind. “Rough day, huh?”
The boy looked up, startled, and tried to wipe his face quickly. “Leave me alone.”
Rindou smirked. Attitude. Great.
“Relax, tough guy. I’m not here to steal your lunch money.” He stepped closer, crouching down in front of him. “What happened?”
The kid shrugged. “Some older kids. Said I talk too much.”
Rindou studied him — the sharp eyes, his dark hair, the little scar at the corner of his lip. He froze for a second.
“...Huh.” His voice softened, almost to himself. “You look kinda familiar, you know that?”
The boy frowned. “You’re weird.”
Rindou couldn’t help but laugh — a short, disbelieving sound. “Yeah, that’s fair.” He straightened, offering his hand. “C’mon. You shouldn’t be sitting out here alone. Where do you live?”
The kid hesitated but finally took it. “Down the block.”
They walked in silence, the boy limping slightly. Rindou kept glancing down, that uneasy realization growing heavier in his chest. The resemblance wasn’t just in the face — it was in the way the kid moved, the way he glared at the world like it owed him something.
When they reached the small apartment building, the boy pointed up. “That’s my place.”
Rindou was about to let go of his hand when the door opened — and you stepped out, panic on your face until your eyes landed on the two of them.
“(Child’s name)! I’ve been worried sick—” You stopped dead when you saw who was standing beside him.
Rindou’s eyes met yours, disbelief flashing across his features before settling into something softer. “...You’ve gotta be kidding me.”
You opened your mouth, but no words came. He looked back at the boy, then at you again. “So that’s why you disappeared,” he said quietly, a crooked smile tugging at his lips. “Damn. You really didn’t waste any time, huh?”
You stepped closer, instinctively pulling your son to your side. “Rindou… it’s not—”
He lifted a hand, cutting you off, his usual lazy grin dimmed by something raw in his eyes. “No, I get it. You wanted out. Didn’t wanna raise him in my mess.” He looked down at the boy again, and this time, the smirk returned — soft but genuine. “Guess the universe couldn’t resist giving me a mini version of myself anyway.”
Your son frowned up at him. “You talk funny.”
Rindou snorted. “Yeah? You should hear me when I’m angry.”
You exhaled, unsure whether to laugh or cry.
He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing toward you again. “He’s a good kid. Little troublemaker, though — reminds me of someone I used to know.” His tone was teasing now, familiar. “You could’ve told me, you know.”
“I know,” you whispered. “I just… didn’t want him growing up in that world.”
Rindou’s gaze softened. “Yeah. I get that.” He paused, then smirked again. “Still, kinda messed up to let me find out by bumping into my own clone on a park bench.”
He turned toward the boy, crouching down again. “Hey, kid. Be careful next time, alright? You’ve got your mom worried.”
“’Kay,” the boy mumbled.
Rindou stood, shoving his hands back into his pockets. “Guess I’ll see you around, huh?”
You met his eyes and saw the faintest glint of something bittersweet there. “You will,” you said softly.
As he walked away, he glanced over his shoulder one last time, smirking to himself.
He leaned against the side of his car, cigarette between his lips, half-listening to the city hum around him. Tokyo was loud, but there was one sound that cut through it, the laughter of a child.
He’d heard it before.
More than once.
He’d made sure of it.
From a distance, he’d watched them — your kid — running through the park, chasing pigeons, smiling like the world had never known pain. He’d told himself he didn’t care. Told himself he was just curious.
But every time, that lie got harder to swallow.
Tonight, though, he didn’t expect the kid to wander straight into his world.
A small figure darted across the street, tripping over the curb and almost colliding with him. Hanma caught the kid by the collar before he hit the ground.
“Whoa there, little girl,” he drawled, steadying him. “You tryin’ to die this young? ‘Cause that’s kinda my thing.”
The girl blinked up at him, wide-eyed but unafraid. “Sorry, mister!”
Hanma chuckled, crouching down so they were eye level. “You’ve got guts. Or no sense of danger. Hard to tell.”
And then he saw it.
The same eyes.
Your eyes.
His smirk faltered for half a second before returning, sharper this time. “Well, shit,” he murmured, flicking the cigarette away. “Ain’t this a surprise.”
“You said a bad word,” your kid said seriously.
Hanma barked out a laugh. “You sound just like your mom.”
The girl frowned. “You know my mom?”
He tilted his head, grin curling wider. “Oh, I know her real well.”
The child tilted his head back, studying him. “You’re weird.”
“Yeah,” Hanma said with a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Been told that before.”
:::::::::::::
By the time you opened your apartment door, your heart nearly stopped — Hanma Shuji stood there, tall, dangerous, and smiling lazily, your daughter standing next to him with a popsicle in hand.
“Surprise,” he said, voice dripping amusement. “Found this little girl playin’ in traffic. Thought I’d bring her home before someone else did.”
Your throat went dry. “Hanma… what are you doing here?”
He stepped inside without waiting for permission, gaze sliding from you to the child. “You know, I always figured you’d run off somewhere quiet. But this?” He looked around the cozy apartment, whistling softly. “Didn’t think you’d go for the domestic vibe.”
You moved between him and your daughter instinctively. “Don’t.”
Hanma chuckled. “Relax, doll. I ain’t here to hurt anyone.” His voice dropped, that teasing edge fading into something low, almost sincere. “If I wanted to, you’d never have seen me coming.”
You hated that it was true.
He looked at the girl again, and for the first time, there was something unreadable in his mismatched eyes. “She’s got your smile,” Hanma said softly. “But the attitude? That’s all me.”
You swallowed hard. “You knew.”
He grinned faintly, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course I knew. I’m a lot of things, sweetheart, but I ain’t blind.”
“Then why didn’t you say anything?”
Hanma shrugged, walking past you, fingertips brushing along the counter. “What was I supposed to do? Show up with flowers and diapers? Please.” He smirked, but his tone cracked just slightly. “Besides, you looked happy. Didn’t wanna ruin that.”
You stared at him, stunned. “You… cared?”
He turned, that dangerous grin curling again, though there was something raw behind it. “Don’t get it twisted. I don’t do the daddy routine.” Then, quieter: “But if anyone ever lays a hand on that kid, I’ll make sure they’re unrecognizable. Got it?”
The way he said it — like a promise, not a threat — sent a shiver through you.
Your daughter tugged at your sleeve. “Mommy, is he my friend?”
Hanma crouched down, tapping the kid’s forehead lightly. “Something like that, darling. Let’s just say I’m the guy who keeps the monsters away.”
The child grinned. “You look like a monster.”
Hanma laughed, full and genuine this time. “Smart kid.”
He stood again, moving toward the door, voice lazy once more. “Guess I’ll be seein’ you around, doll. And don’t worry—” he shot you a look over his shoulder, that old smirk back in place, “—I’ll keep my distance. Mostly.”
But as he left, you could feel it — that shift in the air, the invisible promise hanging between you.
Hanma might’ve walked away, but now that he’d seen his daughter — really seen her — you knew he’d never disappear again.
The first bank transfer came on a random Tuesday — an absurd amount of money, more than your entire monthly salary. The sender was anonymous, the note field empty.
You ignored it, assuming it was some glitch.
But then it came again.
And again.
Every month, on the same day, the same amount. Clean. Consistent. Untouchable.
You didn’t spend it at first — fear wrapped tight around your chest. But when your rent rose, when your girl needed school supplies, when the winter came and the bills doubled… you gave in.
Still, the question gnawed at you. Why? Who?
You didn’t find out until much later.
:::::::::::::::::
It was raining that day.
You were walking home with your daughter, umbrella trembling under the wind, when a familiar car pulled up beside you — sleek, black, the kind that didn’t belong in your neighborhood.
The window rolled down.
And there he was.
Kokonoi Hajime.
Same polished suit, same calm, sharp eyes that had once seen straight through you. The years hadn’t softened him — if anything, they’d made him colder, more expensive.
You froze. “Koko…”
He smiled faintly, a practiced thing. “Get in. You’ll catch a cold.”
Your daughter looked up at you, confused, clutching your hand.
“Kokonoi, what are you—”
“I said, get in.” His tone wasn’t loud, but it left no room for argument.
You hesitated only a moment before sliding into the car, the girl beside you.
Inside, everything smelled faintly of leather and money — sterile, distant.
Kokonoi leaned back in his seat, glancing at the child through the reflection of the window. “She grown,” he murmured. “Has your eyes. But… my hair, huh?”
Your breath caught. “So you knew.”
He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Of course I knew. You think I wouldn’t keep track of what’s mine?”
The words hit like a stone dropped into your chest.
You frowned. “You’ve been sending me the money?”
“Consider it… maintenance,” he said easily. “A way to make sure you don’t struggle. You didn’t want me in your life, fine. But I wasn’t about to let my daughter live without the best of everything.”
Your voice trembled with a mix of anger and disbelief. “You think money fixes everything?”
Kokonoi’s gaze finally turned from the window to you — cool, and suddenly, heartbreakingly human. “No. But it’s the only thing I know how to give without breaking something.”
For a moment, the car was silent except for the sound of the rain.
Your daughter broke it softly. “Mom… who’s this man?”
Kokonoi looked down at her and, for the briefest second, his expression cracked. He smiled faintly, gentle in a way you’d never seen before. “Just someone who wanted to make sure you were safe,” he said quietly.
Then, to you, his voice low: “I’m not asking for anything. Just… let me keep doing what I do. Let me protect you from a distance, if that’s what you want.”
You swallowed hard, unsure if it was a promise or a plea.
He opened the car door for you, rain spilling in like cold mist. “Take care of her,” he said softly. “And if you ever need more—” his lips curved into a faint, knowing smirk “—you already know the account.”
You stepped out, heart twisting as the car pulled away, taillights bleeding red through the rain.
Your daughter tugged your sleeve. “Mom… he seemed sad.”
You forced a smile, watching the road long after he was gone. “Yeah,” you whispered. “He always was.”
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
You stood there for a heartbeat, watching his taillights blur in the downpour, something inside you twisting until you couldn’t breathe.
He was just going to vanish again.
Like he always did — leaving silence, money, and questions behind.
Your chest tightened. No.
You grabbed your umbrella and ran.
“Mom!” your daughter called, but you were already sprinting through the puddles, heart pounding, voice breaking through the rain.
“Kokonoi!”
The car braked sharply, tires splashing against the wet pavement. He turned his head, eyes widening just slightly as you came up to the window, drenched, breathless, furious.
You yanked the door open before he could speak. “You can’t just walk away again,” you said, voice trembling but firm.
He blinked, momentarily thrown off — Kokonoi Hajime, always composed, always in control, now frozen as water dripped from your hair onto his expensive suit.
“I’m not asking for money,” you said. “I’m asking for you. She deserves that much.”
He opened his mouth, but you cut him off — leaning in and kissing him.
When you pulled back, he just stared at you breath uneven, eyes flickering with something raw and unfamiliar.
“You better come to her birthday,” you said, shaky smile breaking through. “She keeps asking who keeps sending the ‘magic money.’ You can tell her yourself.”
Kokonoi’s lips curved, slow and disbelieving. “You’re serious?”
You nodded. “Completely.”
For the first time in years, his smile reached his eyes. “Then I guess I’ll need to find a present worthy of her, huh?”
You sighed, half-laughing. “Just bring yourself. That’s enough.”
He reached out, fingers brushing a raindrop from your cheek, his voice low. “You always knew how to make expensive things sound cheap.”
You smiled. “That’s because you never understood what actually matters.”
He stared at you a moment longer, then leaned in just a ghost of a kiss against your forehead. “I’ll be there,” he promised. And this time, when he drove away, it didn’t feel like a goodbye — just the start of something quietly real.
I really wanna appreciate all ran fanartist for making him so pretty to the point I forget his is canonically megaforehead with this ugly ass haircut.
Nah cause seriously he look like actually mid age creep or potential sex offender and he got such worse haircut I would runaway wahahwaaa i miss my rannabella 😭😭
[Again joke satire don't take it seriously as some of you can't take joke ]
