as you can guess from my name, i'm a pretty lazy person, so i might not post here muchβbut i'll try. hopefully, hahah.
STATUS closed! [writing mostly gender neutral and male readers]
ABOUT ME ! filipino , they/yours/them ;) , 19 , likes to play wuthering waves, honkai: star rail, and dispatch , please donβt be afraid to leave comments on my posts and reblogging cause praise is literally my fuel and motivation, if you're funny then i might just follow you homeβkidding! unlessβ¦?
masterlist. art dump. zy's favourites.
credits to @ialaryxq on tiktok for the header/edit!! and ughhh, i love phainon's voice so much... joshua did such an amazing job honestly <3
E, K and Y for Aventurine, Phainon and Ashveil plz π₯Ί
yandere alphabet requests are temporarily on hold! i need some time to catch up with the rest in the queue.
TW/CW: yandere behavior - allusions to stalking, kidnapping; unhealthy relationship dynamics - gruesome amounts of codependency, slight mention of sexual coercion (but everything else is SFW); reader is gender neutral
Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?
Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling?
Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?
a/n: oh my goddd (Β―οΉΒ―*) im pretty sure tumblr shadowbanned me or smth because my works are not showing up on tags β₯οΉβ₯ any reblogs would be kindly appreciated at the moment!!! thank you <3
Aventurine
Exposed
he tries really hard to create some kind of persona for you, to make you believe heβs this amazing guy. in truth, heβs deeply wounded, nightmares when heβs sleeping, his insistent neediness that you swear stems from his kindling loneliness because he doesnβt speak too often of family or friends outside of you or work colleagues from the IPC. and especially the panic that shadows his face when he hasnβt seen you in hoursβitβs the small things that add into a big mountain of burdens that aventurine tries so hard to keep behind a tight lock, but doesnβt seem to realize, heβs more of an open book than he likes to believe.Β
and itβs really sad, pathetic even, for him to act so untrue, that thereβs a tiny, tiny, shrivel of pity you feel because itβs all obviously a play. if not for you, but for himself, to compensate for something heβs missing. and now thereβs you, and all he really wants is to make sure all is well. he never speaks much of his past or anything else; you never will get to know aventurine truly, at least within the first few months of being taken by him.
you try to make sense of it, in the midst of all this chaos, what has killed aventurine?Β
itβs only when that mask slips off, but it happens in particularly vulnerable moments that you truly see who he isβyou werenβt there after a nasty dream. when he tries to reach over to hold your hand, calming his heart, heβs met with an empty, cold space. and he doesnβt find you for a while, frantically scrambling around every corner of the house, till he finds you tucked away on the opposite side of everything else, seas and mountains away from him, with a thin blanket on top of you and a makeshift pillow.Β
you wake up to him throwing himself on you, arms wrapped around your torso in a tight squeeze you almost cough out as you blink your eyes awake.Β
whyβd you leave me?Β
you kept tossing and turningβ¦and i didnβt want to bother you, so i gave you some spaceβ
i donβt want space!
he looks so angry with you. you hunch over slightly, scared for the next few moments. but his eyes are red, dried trails of tears splotched on his cheeks. he lets out loud shudders of breath as if he just ran a marathon.Β
but his face softens, watches how your face crinkles just under the pressure of his voice, and he leans into you with his head down, hands inching to cradle your hands softly. his body now less tense, less guarded, more soft, i never asked for space from you. thatβs not what i want.Β
you let him play with your fingers, well, what do you want, aventurine?Β
i want you there with me all the time. i want you to never leave me. i donβt want to be alone again. not without you.Β
his voice sounds so small, so uncharacteristically him, and you have to ask yourself then, as his eyes turn into mirrors swallowing you whole, did you ever truly know him? you donβt really know how to respond to that, but this might be it, his truth, behind that bright facade, this is what lies beneath. something fragile, could shatter at any moment.Β
tell me you love me, he looks up at you. say it to me now.
so you say it, accepting his command, and you watch as he comes undone, crumbling into dust, and youβre forced to pick up the pieces to mould him back together again. only you do this to him.Β
Kisses
normally, aventurine could be described as βgaudyβ in every sense of the word. heβs bright, stimulating, has this flamboyant sway to him, and when he talks, heβs fast on his feetβwitty, can be funny, as much as he can be condescending. he just has command, carefully steering his appearances; therefore, heβs not the shy kind when it comes to showing affections. Far from it, he does not need to keep the PDA behind closed doors. when aventurine has its sights set on you, everyone knows. and everyone steers clear of you.Β
a hand on your shoulder, tugging you right into him, as if two opposite polesβyou push off, he pulls harder. a pinky inches away from your own very tip, hand set on the table as he eyes the dents and wrinkles on each digit of your hand. he crawls daintily, before engulfing yours with his, gloves long discarded. by the first month of him pining, youβve grown to be familiar with the feeling of his skin on yours. you learn to like deep, long hugs, till youβre practically crushed up against him, and heβs breathing in the scent of your air until it becomes the very oxygen that orbits him.Β if you dare pull away, he'll dig his nails into you, until you have no choice but to surrender yourself entirely, and he swallows you whole for it.
itβs funny from the perspective of anyone elseβs; heβs often serious when working. lax, but serious. but with you, itβs like everything else around him collapses at your weight. youβre all he cares about, needy and attached to your hip, wanting to burrow himself into you every time you go an inch too far from his hold.Β
his eyes never stray too far from yours, either, always trying to catch up, even to a singular stray shadow of yours. he likes to trace the lines of your features; the slope of your nose, the dimple by your lips. and heβll tell it all to you, like making simple notes on his grocery listβsays it like a compliment, how beautiful your eyelashes look when dabbled in the deluge of your tears. the glisten of your cheeks after a downpour because, aeons, aventurine can have a pretty nasty tongue as much as he can love you so much.Β
he likes to rile you up, provoke you until youβre all warm in the face and something is boiling inside of you, ready to let out. he says heβs just teasing, but his words can be so hurtful, especially on days when youβre far less than kind. aventurine justifies it, says itβs just banter between two couples, and you need to grow thicker skin. frankly, he just likes to draw out all kinds of expressions on your faces. pleasure, anger, happiness, sadness. he likes watching how your face contorts and twists, and how you acclimate by leaning your head against his chest, and you let him comfort you. because who else can you lean on besides aventurine? heβs made sure of this. you're all his; the thought makes him all giddy.
there's always a box by your door as well. a new piece of gold or jewel. maybe it's some kind of high-fashion designer, paired with rich-smelling scents. or could it be the newest novelty item all high-brow society has been raving about? does it matter which? because there's an increasingly growing pile of all the same things at the back of your closet. all the riches aventurine can afford, thrown your way as if a piece offering, praying to you, please accept me. please love me. here is my devotion. this is the price i pay.
and on most nights---no, every night, his lips feel soft on the skin of your neck, but his tongue is so rough when he swipes down that sensitive strip of land from your neck down to your sternum. his teeth full of poison when he bites down when you try to flinch from him. he does this every night, heβs ritualistic about his methods.
youβre everything to him. he wants to be your everything. youβre all he has, and heβs all youβll ever have (one day). heβll do whatever he so damn pleases with you.Β
Yearn
answered here.
Ashveil
Exposed
heβs hard to tell, especially with deeper, more personal stuff. itβs like if you tried to get him to crack open, youβre biting off more than you could chew. heβd give in for a few scraps here and there, but it wouldnβt give you the entire picture. even mr. n, who practically narrates everything ashveil does, which makes you feel as if youβre directly reading every stream of thought coming from ashveil, but suddenly the little monkey is tight-lipped. you canβt even pry the damn thing, nor bribe mr. n with bananas, the monkey just malfunctions on you and stares off into space.
then you shake your head, try to convince yourself you actually donβt care to know anything about ashveil. last you checked, this was starting to seem like stockholm syndrome. butβ¦why sleep in a fridge? even heβs a little weird about that when asked.Β
see, he makes it difficult being mysterious and nonchalant. ashveil just has to have these weird quirks of his that itch you with an intense curiosity, but your reach is too short to scratch. heβll just wave you off, tell you itβs nothing to worry about, but he has to have a deeper reason as to the wistful look on his face on some days. and on some days, heβll look at old photos of old colleagues, and all heβll say to us is that theyβre all in better places now. then you look at the stack of bills on his desk, ask why heβs so keen on giving things away, and he shakes his head and tells you not to worry your pretty head with it. which you point to the scattered pill bottles all around his office, a messy array of other things, and heβll shrug. you care about me?
you deny that notion. but ashveil smiles. the rest of the day goes on, with you having given up trying to comprehend a man like him. he seems complicated to you, as much as he seems tired and lonesome some days. perhaps thatβs why heβs all likeβ¦this?
in nights after youβve long fallen asleep, heβll stay beside you as he runs his hand through your hair, thinks of words on how to exactly phrase what he wants to truly answer your questions. he wants to bare himself to you, naked and true, but he hesitates. something clammers inside his throat, a stinging that tastes shame.
not today, ashveil thinks. or maybe not ever. because youβre a fresh new start, something he can hold on to and make sure you stay here forever, with him, so whatever had hurt him doesnβt happen the same with you.Β
Kisses
heβs an incredibly attentive partner overall, notices every habit you have and every change you undergo, even ones you try not to let anyone else notice. how you bite the inside of your cheeks when youβre deep in thought, how your leg bounces up and down when youβre in a hurry, but you canβt move from your seat. textures and sounds that trigger you, how you lie, and how you are when honest. if you ask him to put his finger on the hammering pulse of your heart, there against your wrist, he could even tell you how you honestly feel just based on the pattern of your heartbeats.Β
it scares youβashveil, being nice, being attentive and kind, being giving, and being so lovely. how heβs soft with you every morning, when he kisses you awake by placing his lips on your closed eyes, and how he always says goodbye to you before leaving. how heβs willing to always service you in some way if you seem stressed. but you know, behind all of this is a facadeβashveil has a calm demeanor thatβs all pleasant, but if provoked enough, heβll bite right back, all nasty and cruel.Β
when heβs harder around the edges, heβs stricter with you, and ready to go into battle at any slight offence thrown your way, things he perceives as threats. a glance too long from a stranger, ashveil is already there with a subtle threat thrown their way. a friend who keeps blowing up your phone with so many texts? when youβre asleep, heβs deleting your contacts and comes up with a convenient lie that your friend was actually shit-talking behind your back all this time. youβre arguing with him again, same reasons over and over again. and each time, youβre met with equally harsher words and no outside privilege for a week. and no, itβs not unnecessary to do such things if it means protecting you and keeping you in line. donβt even bother applying morality to this, ashveil wonβt have it.Β
then heβll go back to his usual self. once everything passes by, as they always do, heβll forgive you. pulls you into his lap, weighing you down with his arms around your waist, chin resting on top of your shoulder, breath tickling your neck, see, it ainβt so bad to be good, darling? and in this quiet moment alone, heβll confess how much it hurts him to even think of a scenario where you're leaving him.Β Β
Yearn
heβs agonizingly methodical; he can go on for a long, long time. heβs assured in his skills of stalking that he can sit by and watch you for some time, just to make sure heβs had everything memorized about you. down from your everyday routine to what patterns you like in your outfits. ashveil keeps a pretty level-headedness in this situation through and through, not the type to he hasty or get too irritable and threatened to act. if anything, heβd want to approach this naturally.Β
so, no, itβs not a matter of βsnappingβ for him. itβs only a matter of when you slowly start to realize that one figure always in your periphery, or that guy you see sitting in the same spot in a cafe you frequent often. he has this all planned, but to you it reads like pure coincidences, a string drawn between you and this long haired stranger with a flashy smile and quirky pet. youβll feel safe and comfortable with him, thinking how itβs all meant to be, but this is when all the information heβs learned about you comes in handy.Β
he plays the waiting game; heβs more than fine abiding his time for when itβs right. this way, youβll fall into his arms naturally. there wouldnβt be any space for doubt or fear from the get-go because youβll learn to actually love him.Β
Phainon
Exposed
phainon believes that bearing himself to you as awfully truthful as he can be is one form of pure love and devotion. why would he feel compelled to hide things from you? his burdens are your burdens, as much as yours are his. that is because once he has chosen you, that means you have rightfully won his heart, you, his savior, bringing light to his cursed existence.
he never hides anything from you; every blemish, scar, flaw, pain is all his to share with yours. of course, with an expectation you'd smooth it all over with a gentle caress. more than anything, being able to depend on someone like this is a breath of fresh air, a better gift than anything he could have ever asked for. for once, it's not him being dependent on. for once, it is him, laying his heart out and putting his trust all on you, his lovely, lovely darling, and it feels thrilling, makes him feel complete. it's like he's melded himself as one with your very body; each shared secret is one inch closer to being tucked away in the cages of your ribs, under the tender warmth of your beating heart.
and the idea of not being honest with you in totality is scary to him. it would mean that there is this gap between you, an empty void. a space where he's supposed to share with you, but a disconnect in place is causing an imbalance. it ticks him off when you don't reciprocate the honesty he lays out for you as if a skinned carcass, ready to be picked apart and eaten. he wants it to be mutual, one of the same, otherwise he'll think you see him as an inadequate partner, not worthy of your mind. you'll kill him with your tight-lip and coldness.
he'll get on his knees, begging and pleading with his hands shackling your legs still. you can't move, can't push him off as he's permenantly glued himself on the floor, beneath the altar of your body, why do you not trust me? my love, what did i do? can i fix this?
even if you explain to him how suffocating this all is, he'll shake his head, tears in his eyes, chanting disagreements---this can be fixed. you cannot give up yet, just give him your heart, be with him, and all will be well.
don't shut me out, phainon says with gritted teeth. he looks angry as much as he is miserably sad, grieving at the distant look in your eyes. he'll hold your face with both hands, forcing you to stare at him. he doesn't realize how hard he's holding you, doesn't compute how your skin folds and contorts in the heaviness of his hands: don't shut me out. don't kick me away. you need me. i need you. each word comes out like a sharp impale dragged across your skin.
don't bother hiding secrets from phainon. he'll sniff it out like a hungry dog.
Kisses
every waking moment is dedicated in servitude to you. from the very first exhale of a new dawn, he greets you with a kiss. he'll stare at your face till you stir in his arms and say your first hello of the day. then he'll go and eat breakfast with you, finding beauty in the simplicity. all the while, his own hand is always wrapped around yours to the point it's inconvenient, but he'll joke, what is love if not insanity? you don't laugh at that.
then, he'll have to pull away for a while. to go run some errands, but he'll pull all the theatrics to convey his heartbreak. he says he can't spare a minute away from you, wants to climb back into your arms and kiss you until his lungs collapse. you blink and stare at him. but just before he fully disappears, there's a genuine look of guilt painted across his face. a part of him dies each time he has to look back at you, peeking behind his shoulder as you grow more and more distant. and just when you think you're free of him, thirty minutes later, you have five new messages from phainon, five different variations of him saying how much he misses you, when he's barely left the road.
this'll go on for hours until he gets back, the constant texting you nonstop until you're forced to turn off your own device. but the minute you don't respond, he goes into panic. starts wondering where you're off to, by the next hour, he's already concluded horrible conclusions that surround your sudden dissapearence. people around him, if not the entirey of amphoreus at this point, has to hear phainon weep over his lover.
only for him to rush back home and see you've fallen asleep, cocooned in a pile of blankets and fuzzy pillows. his mind goes blank, stops racing, and his heart stills. something bright washes over him, and he walks over to you, kneels by the bedside and wraps his arms around your body, soft against his hardened muscles. his hair tickles you awake, and you're met with the biggest smile, i've missed you, he whispers.
you can't tell if you're still dreaming, you're home early?
i couldn't stop thinking about you.
Yearn
from the very first moment he meets you, he's head over heels. something inexplicable pulls him to you, some kind of intangible tug draws the depths of his soul to yours. a need. and something flashes before his eyes, images of forever with you and it all feels too familair; might be deja vu, but phainon thinks it's all the same. it is destiny.
he stakes you out for the next few weeks, while also making notes on you, and a plan to take you with him. or as he likes to say, make you see the light. until then, it won't be long before you'll formally meet him in flesh, as he fondly calls you his lover through the blinding haze swelling in yours eyes. you can call him insane all you want, but he doesn't budge one bit.
phainon thinks, what is the point of patience when he knows he can easily come and get you? you're right there in front of him, and no one is there to stop him, so why hesitate? why wait still, as if hoping for a perfect opportunity? there's no point when he can go get it with his own hands, and so he will do exactly that.
now, if there are anyone in the way that would make this more difficult than it has to be, phainon is quick to step in and simply eliminate such targets. does he feel guilt? no, if not feeling more guilty, he couldn't get to you faster, couldn't get to you before others had convinced you he is bad for you.
a/n: if you got this far, please consider reblogging w/ tags and commenting (ദΰ΅ΰ΄¦ΰ΄ΏΛαΛ)!! as said earlier, im pretty sure i'm in some kind of shadowban purgatory, so any support is appreciated! so far, everyone has been very kind to me, ILYSM!
summary: in an alternate universe, you say yes. you run away with him to Uluru, the planet of flowers.
this is PART ONE. i will link PART TWO when it is completed. this is moreover a summary of the myth story, though edited to include reader saying yes. PART TWO will be the journey and arrival to uluru.
Deep, ragged breaths fall from his lips. Dirt and grime cling to his cheeks and forehead, accompanied by a smear of blood above his left eyebrow. The silver bangs of his hair are glued to his face from sweat, skin clammy and pale. His eyes bore into yours, deep pools of indigo swirled carefully with a mix of fear and desperation.
βHon.β Itβs only now you realize heβs panting as the term falls from his lips. His hands are shaky, rising from his sides to find yours. He squeezes them tight in his palms. You can feel the toughness of his calluses, the dirt rubbed deep into his skin. Itβll take such a long time to clean himself. You feel your heart squeeze, followed by a sorrowful ache in your belly.
βShhhβ¦β you murmur, drawing his hands closer to yourself. You raise them to your face, leaning in to kiss his middle knuckle. He watches you closely, the affection in his eyes unlike anything youβve seen before. Absorbing all of his features, you can't help but notice how utterly tired he looks. Drained to the marrow inside his bones. βItβs alright now. You can bathe tonight and then thereβll be the ceremony in a few days. After that, you can rest. Weβll spend afternoons in the palace courtyards and you can enjoy the quiet, my love.β
Xavier frowns, the corners of his lips tilting downwards. A small huff of air from his nostrils; a displeased sigh. You tilt your head, squeezing his hands. Is something wrong? Perhaps he needs medical assistance after his search, surely you could take him to the finest doctors on Philosβ
βLater. Iβve just come back, donβt you want to see me?β Humor crackles in your chest. After risking his life and arriving home dirty and uncomfortable, heβd rather spend time with his lover than make himself comfortable again. His devotion was not unnoticed by you; in fact, it was possibly your favorite thing about him. While you loved him as a whole, his love for you drew you in deeper and deeper. You were seen, wanted.
βOf course.β Your own lips begin to curve upwards, a pleased grin spreading across your cheeks. The sight was infectious, the corners of Xavierβs mouth twitching into an almost imperceptible smile. βIβm glad to see you back in one piece.β
He shakes his head, strands of silver hair flopping loosely in the air before falling messily back upon his head. He looked silly, half of his hair glued to his head from sweat while the rest stuck up in several directions. Affection bubbled in your tummy as you released one of his hands, opting to smooth down a few of his crazy strands. His head leans into your touch, unashamed and happy. βYou expected anything else?β
βWell, of course not.β You almost scoff. Xavier losing a fight? He was the strongest person you knew, as a swordsman and as an individual. If he were to have failed in killing the wanderer, it surely would have not been conquerable by anybody. You shake your head at the silly thought. How absurd. βQuit joking around. Tell me, are you alright? Iβve seen you have better days.β
A hand wraps around your wrist, dragging your touch from his scalp and down his face. The trail stops when your palm cups the clammy skin of his cheek, his eyes fluttering closed by a small fraction. His nerves prickle beneath the warmth of your touch, a calm exhale slowly leaving his parted lips. He looks at peace.
βYes.β The murmur pulls you from your admiration. Youβd almost forgotten that youβd asked him a question. Your thumb begins to move, gently caressing his under eye. His breath catches in his throat, eyes slowly widening. He looks vulnerable in your grasp. He looks like he needs comfort, though, youβre not sure from what. He turns his head, lips brushing against your palm, half distraction and half needy affection. βIβm always alright when youβre by my side.β
Slowly, your head begins to lilt forward. He looks fragile, he looks like he needs to be held. Your hand leaves his cheek, met with a disgruntled and displeased huff from the boy. Moments later, your fingers carefully wrap around the back of his neck and draw him closer. Your lips land on the middle of his forehead once heβs close enough. He tastes of dirt, salt, and something unmistakable. Something youβd only ever tasted when your lips had met his own. Something so unexplainably Xavier.
The contact earns a delighted sigh from the male, a twinkle flickering in his eyes. His hands untangle from yours before cupping your cheeks, gently pulling your face away from his. His lips form a smile, the pure joy radiating from him something that you alone had the pleasure of witnessing. His breath is warm and smells of an unfamiliar citrus as he leans close, cascading across the lower half of your face. Youβll have to ask what he ate the past seven days heβd been in Starfall Forest. Hopefully it had been enough.
His eyes flutter shut as his mouth presses against yours. His lips are soft and encompassing on your own, enveloping your own bottom lip and lightly sucking on it. Heβs chapped and dry, though you canβt find yourself to mind. Heβs here, touching you, tasting you, holding you. A pleased sound escapes your throat as he angles his neck differently, trying to take as much as he can. Seconds pass before his tongue flicks at your top lip, silently pleading for entrance. He needs you wholly, needs the entirety of you.
The intruder comes just as your lips part to give him entryway. The doors at the other side of the room fly open, banging against the walls. The two of you practically jolt apart, now standing a foot apart. Swollen lips and exploding heartbeats are enough to give the both of you away, though Xavierβs father pays no mind to those details. He crosses the room in seconds, stopping a few feet from his son. βXavier! My boy, youβre back!β
Your lover raises a hand, pretending to swipe his bangs from his eyes. He needs a moment to gather himself before speaking to his father. In the presence of the king, you feel miniscule and unimportant. He doesnβt even glance at you, wrapping an arm around his sonβs shoulders and beginning to lead him towards the doors heβd just entered from.
A conversation begins between them, Xavierβs words short and quiet compared to the king's enthusiasm. The doors are closed behind them, leaving you standing alone in the room. You chew on your bottom lip, the unfamiliar citrus now laced in your own mouth. It makes you miss Xavier even more, though you suppose his father must have felt empty without his son around. Disappointment floods the cavity of your chest nonetheless. Your head hangs as you leave the palace, steps slow and lazed. Youβd wanted to spend more time with your lover than you had.
All you had to keep your spirits up was the reminder of the upcoming ceremony in celebration of him. Heβd completed the Gladius Ceremony, and now he was to be crowned prince. You slowly exhale, kicking at a loose pebble on the path. You watch it bounce once, twice, three times, before rolling to a stop.
The only way youβd be able to keep up with Xavier was if you could become his personal knight, the best on Philos. Youβre not sure if heβd like the idea, but there isnβt much else you could do. He has a strong desire to protect you, always taking large steps to make sure youβd never be in harm's way. Allowing you to be a knight would go against his own personal code. Perhaps heβd argue with you over this topic, though you canβt allow yourself to ponder over this forever. Itβll be a discussion. For now, you walk yourself all the way from the palace to your small home with your family.
ΰ£ͺ Φ΄ΦΆΦΈβΎ..π₯ έ ΛΒ
Xavier looks ethereal, even from a distance. His pristine white suit, tailored to fit him perfectly. His silver hair is brushed and tended to, most likely by someone the king hired. Softer looking, even shinier than usual. His expression is troubled. Heβs deep in thought, eyes unfocused and lips pulled into a tight scowl.
Sneakily, you walk behind a few attendees of the ceremony. Everyoneβs dressed in their best, suits and dresses of all different fancy colors and fabrics. Your hands have a tight hold on a fresh bouquet of flowers, an assortment of blues and purples. Your mouth is dry as you creep closer to your lover, swallowing imaginary saliva to grow your confidence.
Youβre at his side in moments. You plaster a large grin on your face, nudging his bicep with your elbow. He meets your gaze and you watch in real time as his face lights up. His eyes widen and begin shining, his lips twitching into a smile. You hold out the bouquet and observe as the tips of his ears grow pink at the sentiment. Blue and purple compliment him most, standing out amongst other colors of the rainbow. He looks unfairly handsome right now. All you can think about is kissing him silly.
βHi, baby.β Once the flowers are safely in his hold, you raise your hands to his face. Your palms are gentle, softly cradling his cheeks while you lean in. A soft peck is placed on his lips. While leaning back, he chases your lips, his eyes half lidded and clouded with want. βCongrats. Youβre about to be crowned prince.β
A laugh bubbles from you at his embarrassed expression. His eyes dart away even as you lean in to kiss his nose. The blush from the tips of his ears spread across his cheeks, enveloping his face. You grin with satisfaction as a small pout forms on his lips. When his eyes meet yours again, a small shine sparkles across the deep indigo. Heβs got the prettiest eyes youβve ever seen, you realize, mesmerized by the unique hue. When a kiss is placed on your palm, you come back to your senses. You had wanted to tell him your plan. When would be a better time than now?
βListen, future prince. Iβm gonna be your Grandis Knight. That way, I can always protect you and stay by your side. Itβll be perfect. He hums in dissatisfaction and shakes his head, eyes darting away from you. Guilt and shame cloud him, though theyβre quickly overtaken by a tsunami of emotions. His indigo eyes meet yours and youβre taken aback by what you see. Anger, betrayal, desperation, hurt. Your eyebrows furrow, worry filling you like a well.
βHey, whatβs wrong?β Your eyes search the rest of his face, trying to figure him out. His mouth is set into a deep frown, lips chapped and raw. He hasnβt been taking care of himself. Has he been worrying about something? Did Starfall Forest mess him up more than heβd let on?
βListen to me.β Heβs completely serious, missing his usual childish and playful air reserved for your moments together. You gulp. Thereβs a thick tension surrounding him; it feels thick enough to cut with a knife. βPlease. Run away with me.β
Your jaw almost drops. Is he crazy? Heβs about to be crowned prince, heβs going to be promised the throne. You begin to shake your head. You donβt understand. He needs you to understand. Heβs desperate, eyes wild and pleading. Heβd get on his knees and beg you, he didnβt care. You needed to understand. βXavier, Iββ
βI found a planet during the ceremony. Itβs beautiful, covered in flowers. Itβs called Uluru.β He waves the bouquet between the both of you. The sweet scent of them drifts up to your nostrils as if hearing your lover. You bite the inside of your cheek. Itβs like the world wants to aid him in persuading you. βPlease. Run away with me. We can get married.β
Your eyes widen, his words hitting like a physical blow. Get married? Youβre both so young! Thereβs so much of your lives still to live, so much of Philos to still explore. Youβre still not sure why heβd want to leave the crown. The highest honor, the greatest privilege, and heβs willing to just walk away?
Thereβs something in his expression that catches your attention. Pure, raw, animalistic panic. Xavier always seems so sure of himself, confident in ways people donβt see. He isnβt boastful or loud about things. Heβs sure of himself in a quiet and gentle way that people can only pick up if theyβre really paying attention. Before heβd left, heβd told you heβd be back in 7 days. He took exactly 7 days to come back to you. Youβve learned to trust him and his confidence; he knows himself better than anyone.
To see him like this, panicked and hurt, opens your eyes in multiple ways. Thereβs no doubt in your mind that something happened during those 7 days that he didnβt want to talk about. Perhaps something happened in these few days that he's been back, as well; he wasnβt acting like this when he had first arrived back into your arms. You swallow something thick and heavy.
βI promise itβs beautiful.β Heβs rambling now, trying his best to convince you. He knows you trust him and wants to use that blind faith of yours to support himself. One hand releases the flowers to land on your shoulder. His touch is careful, delicate. Heβs almost afraid to even touch you. βFlowers of all colors. White, blue, pink, red. Thereβs even gold. Not yellow or orange, gold. Itβll be the most beautiful thing you see, I swear it.β
You can't help but believe him. Raw emotions tumble in his eyes, a quiet war that youβre the sole witness of. The people around you are unaware of the world shattering around the two of you, to the decision youβre about to make. Thereβs something incredibly human about Xavier right now that youβve never seen before. Heβs always been the strongest person you knew, emotionally and physically. The best swordsman you could name, a man with his emotions so perfectly reigned and controlled. You see the slip of his mask and it pulls you deeper into his web.
A slow breath exits through your nostrils. His grasp on your shoulder tightens just a fraction. He isnβt explaining anything to you, though something is telling you thereβs a reason he wonβt. Just for a moment, you chew on the inside of your cheek and ponder the consequences. You quickly conclude that the worst consequence would be from saying no; youβd most likely lose Xavier.
βOkay.β You murmur. You nod your head as further proof of your agreement and Xavier sighs in relief. His entire body relaxes, muscles loosening and his breathing coming easier than it has for days. Heβs been stressed, more than he should be. This confirms your theory; something happened that he doesn't want to talk about. Slowly, he begins moving his arms around you. He squeezes your body in his arms, deeply inhaling your scent. Warmth radiates from every inch of his body, seeping into you and making you feel fuzzy.Β
He holds you longer than normal. Even if only a few seconds longer, itβs noticeable. His release is slower than his approach was, his arms slowly sliding from around you, only for his wrists to stay wrapped around your hips. He smiles at you, his eyes twinkling. This is the happiest youβve seen him, though it makes complete sense. Youβve technically just gotten engaged. He leans in and gently presses a kiss to your hairline, his lips lingering.
He pulls away as slowly as he can. It doesnβt seem like itβs actually happening until you realize his warmth is missing. His cologne lingers where he had once been, the air smelling rich of sandalwood and lily. Nonchalance waves around him as he slowly glances around, watching people bustle and chat amongst themselves. His hand gropes blindly between the two of you before finding your hand and clasping it tight. Your fingers are woven together like a thick blanket, his grip tighter than a knot.
βCome on.β He murmurs. His voice is soft, floating like a feather. He gently tugs your arm, silently pulling you away from everyone. Nobody pays you much mind as you slip past them, a girl even stepping out of your way to let you pass. It feels as though heβs able to move people with his thoughts alone.
Once breaking from everyone, the two of you are at the path leading from the palace to the front gates. A warm smile spreads on his face as his pace quickens. Soon, the two of you are sprinting as fast as you can towards the gates. Theyβre golden, shining bright under the noon sun. You used to admire them when you would visit Xavier. If you stared close enough, you could see each sparkle in each millimeter of the structure. They were magnificent, the most beautiful thing you'd seen.
Running past them felt poetic. Breaking free from the disillusion of what had been created by the people felt like closing a chapter in your book. Breeze whips your hair behind you, a laugh bubbling from your belly to your throat. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see a grin spread wide across Xavierβs face. His entire presence is warm, from the pure happiness radiating off of his soul to the warmth traveling from his hand to yours.
Past the gates, the two of you keep sprinting. He has a goal in mind, evident in the confidence of his quick stride. He pulls you along with him, using the strong grip of your held hands as leverage. You feel as though you arenβt only being pulled physically, but cosmically as well. Your view of everything is shifting and it was all due to Xavier. Questions bubble in your belly as your breathing comes in short puffs through your mouth, lungs burning from all the activity. He needs to explain everything to you.
You run along the treeline of Starfall Forest, an urgency in his every action and feature. He seems stressed, the muscles in his neck tensed and an unnerved feel to him. Itβs like he wants to pounce on something. His grip on your hand tightens as though the forest could pull you in with its thick vines and lengthy branches and he couldnβt bear letting you be taken. You want to chuckle, to poke him and ask why heβs being strange. The tension he exudes is enough to change your mind.
The forest is beautiful. Your eyes grow wide as you look upon it; youβd never been this close before. It was famous for its beauty, though rarely anyone ever stepped foot past the line of trees, let alone coming close enough to even be at the treeline. The trunks of the trees are all textured strangely, the bark looking rough and gnarled. The leaves are blue-green, a strange contrast to the trees that litter the rest of Philos. Not only is the hue different, so are the shapes; these are more jagged and forked than the fat and round appearance of the trees outside of your own home.
You wonder, briefly, if it looks even prettier at nighttime. Perhaps the moon illuminates the forest in just the right way, shadows cast by overhead branches to create cool illusions. More questions appear on your tongue; thereβs so much to ask Xavier. Was it scary in the forest? What did you eat? What was the strange citrusy scent on your breath? Did you get hurt? You glance at him once more. His face is still set in a mix between determined and unnerved. His eyes squint against the sunlight, mouth cracked as heavy breathing escapes him. Asking these questions feels wrong. Perhaps you can ask more simple questions instead. Where are we going? Why are we going? Why arenβt you talking to me?
Silence is only broken by the sound of your ragged breaths and your feet pistoning against the ground. Beside those two disturbances, itβs quiet. Eerily so. No sound of rustling leaves from a slight breeze, no birds cawing from above, nothing. The quiet stretches on for an absurd amount of time, until Xavier suddenly stops running. Your held hands manage to yank you back against him as you try to continue, the force of your action enough to budge the man from his spot. The two of you look into each other's eyes for a moment before he hums beneath his breath.
βWe need to enter the forest before I can tell you my plan.β Despite being out of breath, sweat gluing his silver bangs to his forehead, tension knitting his eyebrows together, his voice is soft. Fondness laces each and every word that leaves his mouth, his eyes growing softer with each second he gazes into your own. βIβve thought it out all week. Feel free to add your own criticism.β
Despite sweat having beaded between your palms, he never lets go of your hand. He begins to lead you into the forest, subconsciously keeping you close and safe right at his side. Your elbows and hips uncomfortably knock together every few steps, though he isnβt letting up. He needs you as close as possible. Itβs the only way he has a surefire possibility to keep you perfectly safe.
Fallen leaves crunch beneath your shoes. A puff of breath leaves your nostrils, distaste for the situation scratching at the back of your throat. Youβd worn one of your best outfits, and here you were, trekking through a dirty forest. No matter how beautiful it was, you mourned the months worth of money you had saved up for this outfit. Glancing at him, he was completely unbothered. There wasnβt a doubt in your mind that his pristinely white suit would get ruined from the dirt on the ground, yet he couldnβt care less. Secretly, you wished you could be as nonchalant as him.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you step over a large stone. It was a soft gray and had wave-like grooves covering the side of it. This rock proves a theory; the inside of the forest is just as pretty as the outside. Up close, the trees are more angry looking, like theyβd fought to grow and thrive in this soil. You hum in thought. Now would be a perfect time to ask one of your questions. You glance at Xavier once more, only to find him already looking at you. He tilts his head, as though heβd been observing you for the past few minutes.
βItβs really pretty here.β You offer him a smile, lips stretching across your face. The corners of his mouth twitch dangerously, teetering on the edge of a half smile. He nods in agreement before averting his eyes and glancing around the two of you. You figured he hadnβt had the chance to admire the scenery during the Gladius Ceremony. You slowly sigh, shoulders rising and falling with a deep exhale. His hand gently squeezes your own, trying to nudge you towards speaking your mind. βHey, so, I wanted to ask. Why exactly are we leaving?β
He exhales slowly, his mouth settling into a frown. He blinks and suddenly his eyes are filled to the brim with deep and unsettled emotions. The betrayal is back, along with disappointment and urgent fear. He swallows thickly before turning his gaze back upon you. βMy father has been lying to me.β
Your eyebrows raise. Itβs not surprising, given his fatherβs role and the confidential stories he must keep, though it comes with slight shock. The king was always very open with his son, wanting him to be the next successor. The seriousness suddenly hits; his father had tricked him into believing something. This something was so important and wrong that Xavier decided the only cure was to run away and hide. Why did you have to come along, however? βAbout what?β
He sighs deeply. Heβs annoyed to think of what had happened again. His jaw clenches, eyes narrowing as he thinks. Just how much could he tell you without causing you to go into a blind panic? What would you think of Xavier himself after he told you? He slowly shakes his head, disbelieving of himself. βAbout Philos and its history.β
Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. What could that possibly mean? The two of you had learned about the history of Philos in school as a required class. Xavierβs fondness of reading had led him to read a few history novels as well. All his words do is throw a mix of confusion and disbelief into the pot that represents your mind. You canβt fit anything together, canβt make anything out. Is what youβve learned a lie? βStop pausing dramatically and just tell me what you mean.β
βPhilos has a secret.β His eyes move from your face to watch the path in front of you. A slow exhale from his nose. You want to grow defensive, to ask why he's acting like telling you things is a hindrance and waste of his time, though you canβt bring yourself to do it. Heβs clearly upset and processing what happened. βIt isnβt a natural planet, right? It has to gain energy to keep thriving in a special way in order for life to continue.β
Something silver appears in the distance. Itβs large, as tall as some of the trees in the forest. You canβt quite see what it is yet, though curiosity fogs your mind. You make sure to listen along to Xavierβs words, though you canβt help how you squint to try and better make out what youβre approaching. Along with silver, there are faint accents of white. It stands out in the forest of browns and blues and greens.
βMy father, or, whoever the king is, has an important role. He must keep the planet running if he wants to stay king, you see.β You nod to his words, tilting your head. The shape gets more defined the closer you get, though itβs still unclear. Youβre almost frustrated at the elusiveness of it. βDeep in Starfall Forest, there is a pond. Iβm sure you'd find it beautiful. Near the lake, thereβs a small area where the canopy of the trees donβt cover the ground below.β
You grow closer. You realize the white accents arenβt just accents, the thing is made to be both silver and white. You huff at the confusing build yet again, impatient. You almost ask what it is, though you realize what heβs saying is more important, even if it doesnβt make sense. What does a pond have to do with his father?
βThis area is dangerous. Every few months, the king must find a sacrifice to lead into the forest. The sacrifices are always humans. The planet absorbs the people to replenish its energy and continue to thrive.β You whip your head to stare at him, eyes boring into his temple. He wonβt look at you. You need him to look at you. His voice grows quieter, more tired. βI will not become that man.β
The youth of his features feel like a knife has been twisted in your gut. Youβre his age, yet you donβt have even half the responsibilities on your shoulders that he does. Heβs so young, his skin impossibly smooth and features endearingly boyish. The horrible things heβs been through, only to be just over twenty. The two of you are incredibly young, you realize. Here you are, fleeing the secret terror accompanying the planet youβd grown up on. You swallow thickly, your mouth suddenly dry.
βYou donβt have to.β You manage to speak, your voice soft and tender. Slowly, his gaze turns to you. You arenβt blaming him, telling him youβre afraid heβll turn out like his father. Youβre going to be leaving with him. He can feel his belly warm with thick emotion and affection, the tips of his fingers tingling with a sensation he hasnβt quite felt this strongly before. βYouβll be able to be your own man when weβre alone.β
His mouth twitches into a smile he canβt hide. He stops in his tracks, once again pulling you back with him as you try taking another step. His arms envelope you, pulling you tight against his chest. He breathes deeply, face burrowing into your neck to inhale you. His nose nuzzles as much skin as he can come in contact with, needy puffs leaving his mouth. Heβs almost overwhelmed, hands planted on your lower back, eyes screwed up. Youβre so good to him.
He holds you for a long time. Your chin on his shoulder, arms wrapped tight around his waist. Your heartbeat pounds like a drum in your chest as his breathing pans across your neck, the intimacy making you feel awkward yet loved. Skin to skin contact was a precious thing you almost never got from Xavier beside hand holding, the man always wearing long sleeves and pants. Your cheeks heat up as he places a kiss to the junction of your neck and shoulder before slowly and reluctantly releasing you.Β
His hand once again finds yours, fingers tenderly threading together. Once secure, he leads you closer to the strange structure in the background. Each step creates a loud crunching noise from the leaves beneath your feet, the sounds soothing the nerves from you. You donβt want to ponder on how close youβd been to being one of those people fed to Philos. You werenβt sure how the king felt about you, truly. Maybe he wanted somebody better for Xavier and wouldnβt have hesitated to throw you in. You shudder, chills running from head to toe.
As the distance closes, the view becomes more clear. Itβs built of strong metal, though youβre not sure what kind. Thereβs a slanted platform that Xavier leads you to, helping you step onto, then walking up it with you. Itβs cold inside, the hair at the back of your neck rising at the sensation. The walls are made of the same kind of metal, though theyβre all white. You pass large tubes to enter a larger room with chairs and a table with strange buttons and switches and screens all over.
βItβs a ship.β You murmur to yourself. You feel dumb for only realizing it now. He told you heβd take you to another planet and you hadnβt thought about him bringing you to a spaceship to make the travel possible? Out of your line of sight, he smiles fondly. He finds you cute in moments like these, where you take a little longer to realize the obvious.
βThis will be how we get to Uluru.β He states the obvious to offer some comfort. You almost laugh, a grin tugging at your lips. If you take some time to discover the obvious, maybe he has to lay it out for you. You shake your head and exhale slowly through your nostrils. βThose tubes back there were sleeping pods. Our beds, basically. I built this all myself.β
Your eyebrows raise. Xavier is more and more impressive each time you see him. He defeated the Gladius Ceremony and now heβs telling you he also built a spaceship on his own? Perhaps the tales of royalty doing nothing and having too much free time is true. His stories of reading and napping all the time are further evidence.
Slowly, you stalk from the control panel back to his side. Your arm wraps around his waist and draws him close. He leans his head against yours, his own arm wrapping around your waist. The two of you stare out of the window, observing the trees and bushes of the forest. The view isnβt much, rather feeling drab compared to the views youβd seen from the palace balconies. To Xavier, he feels trapped in the forest. A sense of impending doom stresses him, squeezing at his neck and rolling down his back.
He sighs fondly, a slow exhale through his nose. Slowly, he turns the both of you so he can wrap his other arm around your waist as well. His forehead presses to yours, his eyes bright with affection. Fondness and tenderness crawl all over his expression. His fingers bunch the fabric of your top in his grasp, a warm feeling spreading from his toes to his head. βOf course, my star.β
this piece was 5.5k words. this is my longest single piece and iβm very proud of it. xavier is by far one of my favorite hyperfixationsβ¦ i love how well written and complex he is. i hope you enjoyed this and will stay tuned for part two :)
too bad i have to wait until his next rerun to get it πbut still though! i'm really, really glad that i managed to get his E5! he looks so gorgeous in every image ππ₯Ή
shoutout to my brother for letting me steal his luck and getting me E4 and E5 LMAO
legit both of us started screaming and jumping when I got his E4 and proceeded to get his E5 in the next ten pull- i legit went around and ran a whole lap around the house LOLOL
but yeah i'm truly grateful π₯ΉTHANK YOU PHAINON I WILL NEVER LET YOU DOWN I PROMISE
for scene six, during the part that seemed to capture everyone's hearts (wing scene), it originally was meant to go on for longer, but i decided to cap it because it just seemed like it would drag on for no reason, and the more i wrote, the more redundant it became. but i wanted to expand because i wanted to show how pathetic phainon really could be lmfao, so i'm gonna share it in this tiny outtake.
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 stay like that for a while, even as Phainon's knees ache and your thighs grow numb under his weight, he anchors himself to you desperately.
He's shaken for the rest of the day, insisting to have at least a hand on you. He might as well have become an extension of your body, unrelenting and refusing to let you leave his sights for one moment. You coax him into drinking water, and he does as long as you're within reach. You need the use the restroom and he unknowingly stares at the door like a hawk, swiftly glancing away when you emerge.
Phainon has always been afraid of losing you, but he never imagined it would almost manifest willingly, or as a consequence of his own inability.
He holds you tighter to him at night, only knowing how to breathe when there's no space left between you at all, legs intertwined with yours so his soul can rest easy knowing you're here and don't intend on leaving.
If he has a nightmare in the middle of the night and desperately searches for some solace in your embrace, you wouldn't mind, right? You wouldn't mind his tears and desperate hands grasping onto your shirt, the hero who gives his all to the world only able to find the same comfort in you.
Love bleeds into everything Phainon does, but now so does fear. A fear that you will one day leave him without a trace because you've decided you've had enough. If you do, his own chest will crack open and bleed out, leaving him a hollow mess, much like Khaslana. A fear that, when he isn't looking, you'll catch him off guard and use your power over him to snatch the rug from right under his feet, and the worst part of it all is that he'd let you. You could break his heart twice over and he'd still love you with all that burns within him.
i've only started building my mydei yesterday and this is what i've done with him so far:
i don't have the proper relic set for him as i'm still farming for them (and honestly losing my mind since the rolls are always so bad π) so i know that that's one of the things that i need to fix
but other than that, what other stats do i need to change? do i need to have 8000 HP for him outside of battle? maybe less crit rate (but what do i need to have) and more crit damage?
also i don't think i'll be able to get his signature light cone since i'm using all my resources to get phainon to E4 at least before his rerun ends.
as for his team....... my cyrene and cerydra are on phainon's team, so mydei is stuck with RMC and bronya hahahah
oh yeah, and should i replace RMC with ruan mei, maybe?
but yeah, help and constructive criticism (please be gentle brah....) is very much appreciated!
....cause why is my mydei barely doing 100k with his enhanced skill and barely 200k with godslayer ππ
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.
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.
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?
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 avoidedβ¦" you inhale deeply before exhaling shakily. "It's best that I don't interfere with what you do, maybeβ¦ 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.
