Hello, my dear customers! Allow me to introduce myself; I am Offe, I am 18 years old and I will be your server for today.
Though I give you my apologies as I am not a native english speaker and a new employee. I hope this won't significantly effect your experience in this establishment.
I will learn the ways of serving you, please be patient with me! Thank you!
— ✧ Our Menu!
➵ Main Course (Masterlists)
➵ Guidelines (Rules & details of our establishment)
offe! Since ur blog is centered around cafes, what’s your favorite sweet treat?
Milk tea with boba is my favorite sweet treat! Or drink, I suppose?
I've been planning on brewing my own — because they're lowkey expensive and I'm really picky with boba texture — but my tendency to procrastinate hinders any progress.
But if we're talking food wise — I'm not actually that big on dessert. Surprisingly.
But I guess… cookies, especially ones that are softer in texture and you add ice cream on top! Then again, I really like pudding (mango flavored ones specifically).
Honestly, I like any dessert — though I don't have any favorites. Thank you for the question anon! ദ്ദി(˵•̀ ᴗ -˵)
You guys know that one meme of bocchi the rock? The one where she's laying in her futon and surrounded (plastered on her ceiling AND walls) by pictures of her friends?
Yeah that. But with Phainon. And thousands of photos of his Angel (or Dawnlight, whichever you prefer).
In rare cases you happen to wake up before Mydei does, then you're in for a sight made for sore eyes—
His golden hair forms a halo around him, casting itself over the pillows. His eyes are shut, with sunlight seeping past the cracks of your curtains, illuminating each delicate lashes. His arms, now free of his golden gauntlets, wrapped loosely around you—one acting as a pillow under your head while the other lay over your body.
The crown prince of Kremnos does not lower his guard—though the prophecy tells otherwise—even in his state of rest. And being handed this blessing by the Titans, you take a moment to simply stare at him.
Mydei rarely stays still long enough for you to be satisfied in taking in all of his intricate features—at least not without him questioning your intentions, and gradually looking nervous the longer your gaze stays on him. Sometimes he'd even nudge your face (gently) over to the side, just to avert your attention elsewhere.
It's interesting to see the contrast in his reactions—if you were any one else, you'd receive a much different treatment. You recall how stiff his shoulders become when he feels eyes on him, and the way his guard grows sharper as if readying himself for a possible ambush. No matter how unlikely it is.
A soft rustle breaks the silence of your bedroom as your hand emerges from under the blanket. Your fingers hover the side of his face, just a centimeter from touching the man's skin. The hesitation came from the thought of waking him up—the softest graze against Mydei would send him into an alert state.
And seeing this, extremely rare, state of peace he's currently in—you decide against touching him, despite how deeply you longed to cup his face and lay affection over your beloved's face.
Unfortunately for you, the motion of pulling your hand away ended up being the interruption to his slumber. With a slow rise of his eyelids, you're greeted with his golden irises focusing onto you.
“.. What is it?” He questions, his voice sounding much deeper than usual.
You shook your head, though you're fighting the urge to sulk at your unexpected accident which caused the loss of time meant for appreciation. “.. Just go back to sleep, Mydei.” You urge him, laying a palm over his cheek. Brushing over the red marking leading up to the side of his eye.
He hums, acknowledging your command but not following. “It would be unbecoming of me, and you aren't attempting to weaken my guard, are you?” Though his voice carries an aura of seriousness, you're the few people who knows when Mydei is simply jesting. In his own way.
You play along, moving your arms around his neck. Loosely hanging off of him as you shift closer. “Do you find the idea of staying in bed with me to be an act of sloth? I see it as lovers finally having a moment after so long being away from one another.” and you aren't wrong, Mydeimos had been away for… Whatever battle needed him.
You worry for him, despite knowing he lacks the ability to die, he still feels pain. Each and every wound he sustains, he can feel them. He may try to hide it from you, but you can see the way he would distract his brain from the pain each time his body heals a broken bone.
“Surely the crown prince wouldn't mind my request to stay here, just a little longer?” For good measure, you leave a quick kiss on his lips. A bold move. One you have a privilege to pull off.
Another hum, this time full of feign contemplation. He can never truly decline you. You both know that. And with a heavy sigh, he adjusts himself to perch his chin above your head.
“.. Two minutes.”
“Five?”
“.. Not negotiable.”
“Mydei..” you purposely nuzzle your face against his neck, softening your tone as you plead.
Without needing more convincing, he pulls your body closer to his.
— – ✦ Phainon
You can never sleep in when your lover is a dog that happens to have a human form.
Especially one whose strength outweighs yours by ten fold, if not a hundred.
Many complain about how they're unable to fully enjoy a slow morning due to their pet jumping up and down on the mattress. Desperate for attention. And food.
Phainon craves both.
While pets normally cannot communicate with owners through words. Your beloved, while fulfilling the criteria of a dog, can indeed speak. Which makes your situation much, much worse.
“.. Dawnlight, Dawnlight… hey…” gentle, persistent, pokings against your cheek as he attempts to nudge you into opening your eyes. He's definitely aware that you're awake, and purposely squeezing your eyes shut out of the need to prolong your sleep.
It's early in the morning, and he has this mental schedule ingrained into his brain. Which made it so no matter how exhausted you may be, he needs to have you awake by his side while he makes breakfast. Even if you ended up sleeping on the kitchen counter. He has taken many, many photos of you in that state.
“.. Dawnlight, I know you're awake.. C'mon.. I bought your favorite snack from the market yesterday. Don't you want to try it first thing in the morning?” Ah, one of his tactics—bribery. Fortunately, this morning you aren't particularly craving anything other than sleeping.
And seeing your insistence in playing pretend, Phainon opts to double his effort to get you up. He gathers you in his arms, in spite of your verbal complaints, with one arm around your head while the other holds your back. Cradling you against his chest.
“It's not good to sleep in,” he reasons gently, pressing a soft kiss on the side of your face. “You shouldn't stay up late so often or you'll end up lowering your brain's ability to focus.” a valid reasoning, but you refuse to heed.
“.. Let me sleep.. You can make your breakfast alone, Phainon..” There's quite literally no need for your presence in the kitchen, you always end up being a spectator as he cooks.
“But it's lonely cooking without you..” He huffs, the warm air brushing back your ear. “I'll let you sleep in next time, okay? C'mon, I'll cook something good.”
You can already feel the way his arms shift, just about ready to make the decision for you and head to the kitchen—perhaps he'll even cook while carrying you, isn't that just so romantic?
And you're too exhausted to argue with a man as persistent as he is charming. With a sigh of defeat, you nod. Earning Phainon another victory as he lays kisses over your neck in gratitude, rambling about what he'll make this morning for breakfast.
Yes, have a treat before Offe has her inevitable leave for a week or so due to.. Life. But, we do hope this could make up for it until Offe returns. And don't worry, we're still working on the promised O'gentle Maiden fic. It's in the works!
HI ANGEL!!! I LOVE UT SCRUMPTIOUS ART like the colors, the lighting, the dynamic and composition makes me wanna writhe and wiggle inside the screen to make a home in those sweet, warm colors
I admire your writing too! I've been meaning to write a fanfic but i honestly don't have the balls for that (my orv transmigration will not be out until 2048.... Shoot me pls) so then i decided to make fanart for fanfics instead! Which i too, horrendously fail at... (Shame my impeccable art motivation)
I've never joined these kind of requesting events but I'd like to give it a try! I'm just so in love with how you portray and draw phainon, and I just wanna see more crumbs of my man. He's so gorjus, i just wanna squish his cheeks and kiss him all day, (if reality made it possible) just do wtv you want w this! Can be written or drawn, I don't mind as long as its my sweetie phainon <3
thank you for drawing all your lovely art! I find myself revitalized at such a lively, but wholesome feeling everytime i look at them, it's honestly inspirational at times.
Sincerely a silent lurker, take good care of yourself and wishing you all the stellar jades, luck, and desires you ever-so hope for ✨
HHELLO ANON!! TY FOR SENDING THIS IN!!! (ˊᵒ̴̶̷̤ ꇴ ᵒ̴̶̷̤ˋ) YOURE TOO KIND
PLEASE WRITE THAT FANFIC (orv brainrot is excused though (人◕ω◕)) there are definitely people (me) out there who would love your ideas ^^ ALSO(!) you draw art for fanfic??!!! THATS SO AWESOMEOMG ᜊ( ' ⩊ '𖦹)ᜊ you form the backbone of fandom!! (MANIFESTING YOUR MOTIVATION)
ty sm for joining this event! i like to imagine phainon does his puppy dog eyes on purpose to tempt you to kiss him again heh (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) (am i wrong or am i wrong)
TY AGAIN!! your words mean a lot, it really made my day! ദ്ദി ༎ຶ‿༎ຶ ) 🗣📢 STAY HYDRATED AND HAPPY AND MAY ALL YOUR CHARACTERS BE E6S5!!
In which a captain of the Silvermane Guards hesitates to speak his heart
➵ Notes; this is a request made by a lovely anon!
1.4k words.
➵ Warnings; possible OOC and non-canon details!
“As a model of Belobog, you shouldn't overthink.” It is a demand more than an advice. One he holds close at heart. As a captain in the Silvermane Guards, hesitation is a flaw that should not and cannot be tolerated. If death is already tailing you, you shouldn't stop and wait for it.
Then—you arrive into the lines of soldiers.
You're a member of the medical group. Tasked in making sure the city always has enough soldiers. Sustaining them to withstand both the icy storms and fragmentums.
While the standard rule instructs medics to be stationed far from the front lines—you're highly knowledgeable regarding the attack patterns of corrupted armies sent by the fragmentums, which becomes valuable in predicting the next attack.
In order to assure your safety—as both the Silvermane Guards medic and strategist—Gepard elevates your status to his right-hand.
Although it implies you'd rarely stray from his side, his intention is to have the authority of sending you away from battle if things were to go out of hand.
If standing as the last wall of defense meant saving you—then he shall do it without hesitation. Of course it doesn't come from biases. He'd do this for all, for his fellow comrades, family, and citizens.
You happen to fit two categories—you're both his comrade and someone he cares for like family.
Yet, Serval has another say on the latter.
“.. Gepard, I know I always called you lil' Geppie—mostly as a joke—but surely you're not taking on the role.” She stares at him with a mix of exasperation and genuine worry.
Despite the confusion he feels, he recognized the look on her face. Lynx had a similar one when he retells a story and you happen to be an occurring character.
“.. I'm not sure why you're saying this, you're the one who wanted me to tell you a story?” He sighs.
“I know, I know—but don't you see a pattern here?”
Her answer (or question) only deepens his confusion.
Was it wrong for him to recite the same story—did she happen to already hear it from the others?
Well, he tends to reuse this tale if someone were to ask what it's like being a captain. Any other ones would surely leave them scarred.
“.. I.. I don't,” he shakes his head, furrowing his brows. “could you at least clarify what you're implying about?” not getting to the point would be an act of villainy in the battlefield. Wasting time is to be avoided.
Serval chuckles, pressing a hand against the side of her head. As if she found his need for an explanation to be amusing. “You've been hanging out with her a lot,” he raised a brow. “And from what I've seen—and heard—you never stray from her side..” Instead the other way around is left unsaid.
“If I leave her be, she could potentially get hurt. We've been able to stabilize our defenses against the fragmentums with her help." His explanation seems logical—because it is!
Plus, he stays close only in dangerous areas like the frontlines. Other than that, he lets you be. You're a fully capable person, he knows that more than anyone.
His older sister, however, doesn't look convinced. “.. Right.” She sighs, dramatically so. “whatever suits you, lil’ Geppie.”
And he finds himself hesitating to retaliate.
—
“Hellooo?” You wave a hand in front of his vacant eyes, staring off into the snowy lands. “Geppie, you alright?”
Gepard blinks out of his dazed, realizing he let his guard down long enough for you to approach him unnoticed. “I—.. Ahem. Forgive me, I was remembering something.”
“what is it?” You lean back against the cold wall, though the cold can no longer seep through the thick layers of your uniform.
He doesn't answer immediately, but you can see him contemplate his answer. “.. No, it's.. Nothing.”
You, theatrically, clutch your chest. Where your heart lies under layers upon layers of warmth. “Ngh—! I thought I'm your trusted right-hand who you tell everything to..! Turns out.. I'm nothing.” To really add to his supposed ‘betrayal', you slowly slide down onto the ground.
He forces himself not to smile at your antics. While on the frontlines the two of you kept things professional. No unnecessary dialogues. It'll be quite critical on both of your reputations if lady Bronya or the supreme guardian herself were to witness you two bantering.
“.. Ahem. Let's focus on our duty, no theatrics." He straightens his shoulders. Yet, when he spots the grin on your face, his eyes soften, and the corners of his lips lift ever so slightly.
You, however, had different plans. Pulling yourself off the wall, you approach him with a little jump in between steps. “Everything's been going pretty well—ever since those outsiders came around and helped, the fragmentums attacks have slowed down by a lot.”
You stretch your arms into the air, sighing in relief as the worries you've been carrying this whole time began to disappear. “I can finally retire from all this..!”
Gepard stills, “O—Oh.. You're planning on leaving?” Me—he had to bite his tongue from letting the word escape his mouth.
“Leaving is not the word I would use, more like—having a well deserved vacation. Oh wait, no, that would imply it's only temporary..” You trail off, finding it difficult to find a fitting word to describe your future plan of retirement.
Unknowingly to you, Gepard had gone unusually quiet. It had finally hit him that his time spent with you is not permanent.
Sure, he'll get to see you during times where he's not stationed somewhere out of Belobog's safe zones. But that alone wouldn't be enough to fill the familiar habit he has after having you by his side for most of his time as a Captain.
And he, naively, thought it would never end. That you would remain by his side in both on field and off.
“.. Geppy, you're making that face again.” A soft poke to his cheek causes him to shiver as he snaps back to reality.
“Hey, I'll come back from retirement if the Silvermane Guard ever needs me. So it's not like I'm leaving Belobog as a whole.” You shake your head at the thought yet it only weighs on Gepard's mind as a possibility.
“.. Forgive me, I suppose I've gotten too used to having you around.” He sighs, yet his mind continues to dwell on that future.
You, however, do not share the same melancholy. More focused on the rather kicked puppy look that your captain is currently wearing on his face. Such a contrast to the Iron Wall that he is in battle. “.. You know, saying ‘I would miss you' is okay.”
“.. I..” He stares at you, finding a smile stretched over your cheeks as it slowly morphs into one of mischief once his cheeks begin to heat up.
“.. Well, I—we would still see each other. Just not as often anymore, and I'd miss you, yes, but I wouldn't go against your wishes to leave behind the guards.” His words are noticeably rushed out of his mouth.
“Mhm,” you don't buy his answer. “Then let me ask this, Geppie—is the captain asking me not to leave the guards or not to leave him?”
Gepard, if possibly, visibly shudders through his armory as his mouth opens yet not a word goes out. Only the sound of his strained gasp. And while you rarely see vegetables with your planet's current climate, a tomato would be a comparable color to your captain's face.
“.. So it's the latter.” You conclude. Watching as the colors darken in shade. His eyes are trying to find a spot to focus that isn't you.
It is truly a sight to see, the captain of the Silvermane Guard reduced to a flustered fool by his right-hand.
“If you don't answer, I'm gonna file for my retirement early.” Obviously you weren't being serious, yet by the shocked look on his face—your threat seems to work.
“I—...” He quickly clears his throat. “I won't stop you from making your decision but perhaps you'd want to.. Uh.. Stay for a little while. The fragmentums aren't yet stable so it wouldn't be beneficial if you were to leave so soon.. And—”
“—And you'd miss me.” You finish the sentence for him.
Gepard goes quiet, heat returning to his cheeks as he tries to compose himself. “.. If that could make you reconsider your decision regarding your departure, then… Yes, I will miss you.”
Your cheeks hurt from smiling too much.
Hello! Offe has made her return to the establishment. Serving you yet another request meal, which we hope you enjoyed!
Forgive us for the lack of meals these past few weeks. We've been quite busy, mostly Offe having a hectic schedule outside of work.
Yet we thank you all for remaining patient! ദ്ദി(˵•̀ ᴗ -˵)
hello offe! i'm the anon who requested the little love birds fic that tyuoui made fanart for! thank you so much for bringing my request to life, it was everything i had hoped for and more! maybe one day ill be brave enough to stop requesting anonymously, but i cannot thank you enough for fulfilling the request!
i saw that you had gepard as one of your favorite characters! I'd love to order a gepard x reader where reader always finds a way to tease the silvermane guard captain and gepard cant help but fall in love despite the merciless teasing? thank you so much if you do end up taking this order and i hope you have a wonderful rest of your day!
We're glad to had been able to satisfy you with the previous request meal! ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭*
And do not worry, our establishment welcomes anonymous customers. We simply wish to give you all a comfortable place to order without any judgment!
And here is your finished request meal! We hope you'll enjoy this one too! And we hope that you, too, have a nice day. ദ്ദി(˵•̀ ᴗ -˵)
In which a captain of the Silvermane Guards hesitates to speak his heart
➵ Notes; this is a request made by a lovely anon!
1.4k words.
➵ Warnings; possible OOC and non-canon details!
“As a model of Belobog, you shouldn't overthink.” It is a demand more than an advice. One he holds close at heart. As a captain in the Silvermane Guards, hesitation is a flaw that should not and cannot be tolerated. If death is already tailing you, you shouldn't stop and wait for it.
Then—you arrive into the lines of soldiers.
You're a member of the medical group. Tasked in making sure the city always has enough soldiers. Sustaining them to withstand both the icy storms and fragmentums.
While the standard rule instructs medics to be stationed far from the front lines—you're highly knowledgeable regarding the attack patterns of corrupted armies sent by the fragmentums, which becomes valuable in predicting the next attack.
In order to assure your safety—as both the Silvermane Guards medic and strategist—Gepard elevates your status to his right-hand.
Although it implies you'd rarely stray from his side, his intention is to have the authority of sending you away from battle if things were to go out of hand.
If standing as the last wall of defense meant saving you—then he shall do it without hesitation. Of course it doesn't come from biases. He'd do this for all, for his fellow comrades, family, and citizens.
You happen to fit two categories—you're both his comrade and someone he cares for like family.
Yet, Serval has another say on the latter.
“.. Gepard, I know I always called you lil' Geppie—mostly as a joke—but surely you're not taking on the role.” She stares at him with a mix of exasperation and genuine worry.
Despite the confusion he feels, he recognized the look on her face. Lynx had a similar one when he retells a story and you happen to be an occurring character.
“.. I'm not sure why you're saying this, you're the one who wanted me to tell you a story?” He sighs.
“I know, I know—but don't you see a pattern here?”
Her answer (or question) only deepens his confusion.
Was it wrong for him to recite the same story—did she happen to already hear it from the others?
Well, he tends to reuse this tale if someone were to ask what it's like being a captain. Any other ones would surely leave them scarred.
“.. I.. I don't,” he shakes his head, furrowing his brows. “could you at least clarify what you're implying about?” not getting to the point would be an act of villainy in the battlefield. Wasting time is to be avoided.
Serval chuckles, pressing a hand against the side of her head. As if she found his need for an explanation to be amusing. “You've been hanging out with her a lot,” he raised a brow. “And from what I've seen—and heard—you never stray from her side..” Instead the other way around is left unsaid.
“If I leave her be, she could potentially get hurt. We've been able to stabilize our defenses against the fragmentums with her help." His explanation seems logical—because it is!
Plus, he stays close only in dangerous areas like the frontlines. Other than that, he lets you be. You're a fully capable person, he knows that more than anyone.
His older sister, however, doesn't look convinced. “.. Right.” She sighs, dramatically so. “whatever suits you, lil’ Geppie.”
And he finds himself hesitating to retaliate.
—
“Hellooo?” You wave a hand in front of his vacant eyes, staring off into the snowy lands. “Geppie, you alright?”
Gepard blinks out of his dazed, realizing he let his guard down long enough for you to approach him unnoticed. “I—.. Ahem. Forgive me, I was remembering something.”
“what is it?” You lean back against the cold wall, though the cold can no longer seep through the thick layers of your uniform.
He doesn't answer immediately, but you can see him contemplate his answer. “.. No, it's.. Nothing.”
You, theatrically, clutch your chest. Where your heart lies under layers upon layers of warmth. “Ngh—! I thought I'm your trusted right-hand who you tell everything to..! Turns out.. I'm nothing.” To really add to his supposed ‘betrayal', you slowly slide down onto the ground.
He forces himself not to smile at your antics. While on the frontlines the two of you kept things professional. No unnecessary dialogues. It'll be quite critical on both of your reputations if lady Bronya or the supreme guardian herself were to witness you two bantering.
“.. Ahem. Let's focus on our duty, no theatrics." He straightens his shoulders. Yet, when he spots the grin on your face, his eyes soften, and the corners of his lips lift ever so slightly.
You, however, had different plans. Pulling yourself off the wall, you approach him with a little jump in between steps. “Everything's been going pretty well—ever since those outsiders came around and helped, the fragmentums attacks have slowed down by a lot.”
You stretch your arms into the air, sighing in relief as the worries you've been carrying this whole time began to disappear. “I can finally retire from all this..!”
Gepard stills, “O—Oh.. You're planning on leaving?” Me—he had to bite his tongue from letting the word escape his mouth.
“Leaving is not the word I would use, more like—having a well deserved vacation. Oh wait, no, that would imply it's only temporary..” You trail off, finding it difficult to find a fitting word to describe your future plan of retirement.
Unknowingly to you, Gepard had gone unusually quiet. It had finally hit him that his time spent with you is not permanent.
Sure, he'll get to see you during times where he's not stationed somewhere out of Belobog's safe zones. But that alone wouldn't be enough to fill the familiar habit he has after having you by his side for most of his time as a Captain.
And he, naively, thought it would never end. That you would remain by his side in both on field and off.
“.. Geppy, you're making that face again.” A soft poke to his cheek causes him to shiver as he snaps back to reality.
“Hey, I'll come back from retirement if the Silvermane Guard ever needs me. So it's not like I'm leaving Belobog as a whole.” You shake your head at the thought yet it only weighs on Gepard's mind as a possibility.
“.. Forgive me, I suppose I've gotten too used to having you around.” He sighs, yet his mind continues to dwell on that future.
You, however, do not share the same melancholy. More focused on the rather kicked puppy look that your captain is currently wearing on his face. Such a contrast to the Iron Wall that he is in battle. “.. You know, saying ‘I would miss you' is okay.”
“.. I..” He stares at you, finding a smile stretched over your cheeks as it slowly morphs into one of mischief once his cheeks begin to heat up.
“.. Well, I—we would still see each other. Just not as often anymore, and I'd miss you, yes, but I wouldn't go against your wishes to leave behind the guards.” His words are noticeably rushed out of his mouth.
“Mhm,” you don't buy his answer. “Then let me ask this, Geppie—is the captain asking me not to leave the guards or not to leave him?”
Gepard, if possibly, visibly shudders through his armory as his mouth opens yet not a word goes out. Only the sound of his strained gasp. And while you rarely see vegetables with your planet's current climate, a tomato would be a comparable color to your captain's face.
“.. So it's the latter.” You conclude. Watching as the colors darken in shade. His eyes are trying to find a spot to focus that isn't you.
It is truly a sight to see, the captain of the Silvermane Guard reduced to a flustered fool by his right-hand.
“If you don't answer, I'm gonna file for my retirement early.” Obviously you weren't being serious, yet by the shocked look on his face—your threat seems to work.
“I—...” He quickly clears his throat. “I won't stop you from making your decision but perhaps you'd want to.. Uh.. Stay for a little while. The fragmentums aren't yet stable so it wouldn't be beneficial if you were to leave so soon.. And—”
“—And you'd miss me.” You finish the sentence for him.
Gepard goes quiet, heat returning to his cheeks as he tries to compose himself. “.. If that could make you reconsider your decision regarding your departure, then… Yes, I will miss you.”
Your cheeks hurt from smiling too much.
Hello! Offe has made her return to the establishment. Serving you yet another request meal, which we hope you enjoyed!
Forgive us for the lack of meals these past few weeks. We've been quite busy, mostly Offe having a hectic schedule outside of work.
Yet we thank you all for remaining patient! ദ്ദി(˵•̀ ᴗ -˵)
The voice announced. Over and over. Repeating itself, wishing to be heard. Its tone is soft, friendly and warm. Familiar like his—no, it's an exact mimic.
You grasped your phone close to the side of your head. The cool exterior grazing the tip of your ear. It's still ringing. The repetitive vibration echoing. He's still not answering.
The air feels thinner. You try to grasp for more, only to choke from the pressure.
You're huddled under the dinner table. Having previously prepared dinner when the voice came. You tried calling out to it—to him. No answer. It's pretty late into the night, which on its own is odd. He usually informs you if he ever has to work overtime. You've been checking your phone every now and then, there's no message from him.
The last one he sent was a picture of the window from his office. Light droplets sticking on the glass. With a comment on how it'll be raining soon.
Then silence.
The table cloth spills over the edge, hovering over the floorboards, casting a layer of protection. The dimness it provides causes you to feel boxed in. Yet safe.
The phone continued ringing. Frustration and dread seeps into your soul, the possibility of Phainon not being available to save you. Leaving you alone. With it.
You've always been dependent on him. For the sense of safety he provides. Phainon always stands beside or in front of you in the face of something that could cause you harm, even if only in theory.
He never reprimands you for it. He'd smile and nod, each time you choose to hide yourself behind his figure. His hand would grasp yours, lacing your fingers together. Squeezing gently. Assuring your safety.
There are nights where you'd question him, whether you're being too much for refusing to face things on your own.
“You don't need to face things alone,” his hands found yours. It's like second nature at this point. “I'm here. Call out for me. I'll find you and we'll face it.” A soft peck to your nose. “together.”
Your brain racks itself on what to do—should you continue spamming him with calls? With desperate hope of him answering one of them?
Pulling the phone away from your ear, the screen reveals the countless missed calls for the past hour. The rainfall was light, its sound was barely there. Tapping the surface. But now, it has doubled in strength and numbers. Pounding on the walls.
Despite the deafening rhythm of droplets—a knock cuts through the noise.
“Angel, I'm home.” Again, it announced. Still behind the door. Persistent in reminding you of its presence.
Your head falls onto your knees. The world turns airless. Your lungs strain. Your hand clutch the device despite sweat running down your body and sticking to your fingers.
You hadn't unlocked the door, if it's calling out for you to greet it inside—it definitely doesn't have the keys. It can't get in. You're safe. You just have to wait for Phainon to come home—he should be on the way. Maybe stuck in traffic. It's raining after all.
A click.
So soft.
But unmistakable.
That all too familiar creak as the door knob twists.
You felt as if your body was dropped into a frozen lake. You're immobilized by the frost seeping into your skin. Watching the air bubbles ascend up. As darkness engulfs.
The rain covers your ears. But you could feel the creaking of floorboards. Holding up its weight with each step forward.
“Angel, I'm home.” It's closer.
You want to close your eyes. You want Phainon to burst through the entrance. You want him to come home.
The silhouette. A pair of legs. You recognize Phainon's work shoes just barely seen between the cracks. He always complained about them before leaving.
Your phone vibrates against your palm.
Your eyes don't leave the sight before you, not immediately.
The sound echoes in the room.
Slowly, you avert your gaze. Glancing at the screen.
Phainon finally answered.
Tears form over your eyes. You swipe over the screen and accept it. Forcing your arm up and pressing the device against your ear.
With a shaky gasp, you speak. “.. Phainon..?”
“Angel, I'm home.”
The voice answers.
We deeply apologize to all our customers for the lack of meals these past weeks. Our establishment is currently waiting for supplies which had been set back due to weather issues.
We hope this simple horror-fic of Flame Reaver will suffice for now until we finish up our rougher meal plans.
Notes; this is inspired by my favorite art (made by my amazing mutual)
Warnings; possible OOC (?)
Children danced amongst the sea of colors. Petals flew up into the air, carried by the rustles of their little hands brushing through.
The flowers, brimming with beauty, circle around you—as you slowly descend and plant your feet onto the ground.
You watch the children roam around, their various laughter creating a harmonious sound. Echoing throughout the field. It is a heartwarming sight, though you show no interest in joining your comrades in entertaining the children.
You begin to walk, the floras part for each of your steps. Distancing yourself away from the others, and upon spotting a rock nearby—with its surface flat enough to provide a seat—you settle upon it. Spectating the scene before you.
It is odd, despite the unfathomable time you've spent walking this earth, you have never seen such a picturesque sight.
The field of flowers was meant to silence the children's insistence for magic, putting an end to their pestering. Which you succeeded in doing. But never had you imagined many would find such infectious joy in them.
You've stood on the peak of mountains. And there, you witnessed the clouds form a halo around the rising sun as it casts light upon the white surface. Awe was the word to describe what you felt, no matter how fleeting the moment was.
Though that's how you perceived everything, wasn't it?
Fleeting.
Only lasting for so long before dimming into nothingness. There's nothing special about moments once you realize that in the next hundred years, you'll witness it all over again.
You brush your fingers against flower petals. Delicate. And, fleeting. They wither in seconds for you, a beauty held by the sands of time. Slowly seeping through the cracks. You've long accepted that nothing ever lasts for your kind.
A soft rustle coming from behind you. Footsteps. Before something settles atop of your head, successfully pulling you out of your own thoughts.
“Daydreaming again, partner?” the hero jest with a soft chuckle as you lift your gaze up to meet his much softer ones. The jewels of his gaze sparkle like the ripples of a vast ocean, with you as the light casting over its surface. You lift a hand, ushered by curiosity as you try to figure out what he made. And when the tips of your fingers touch the familiar petals, before tracing over the intricate braids made from the stems. You're left impressed.
Phainon never gave you the impression that he's capable of crafting something made from such delicate material.
your gaze shifts over at the others as a member of your party topples forward face-first into petals. Distant laughter echoes into the air. “Shouldn't you be joining them?”
Phainon only hums in response, before settling beside you. “I prefer being with you.” flashing you a charming smile and wink. You swore sparkles started bouncing off of his head.
Silence sits between the two of you. For a voyage with an end goal of returning the coreflame of Worldbearing to humanity—restoring shining hope over the world once more.
The passage is laden with Titankins. All deathly loyal to their master. Yet, in the name of a better tomorrow, you all March forward. Even as you shake at the face of a looming end.
Despite all the imminent danger, the Deliverer remains.. Seemingly unbothered. Going out of his way to help others.
Whether it's to pick ripe apples for an old lady or fixing a bridge between villages. With that charming smile—he lends out a hand.
Though, it's odd of him to stay quiet for this long.
Driven by curiosity, and perhaps concern, you glance over at him.
Your eyes only met his. Barely hidden by his arm. His eyes flicker, surprised by the sudden reciprocation. And in this open field, with the sun casting its light—you're able to clearly see his dilated pupils. Nearly overlapping the deep blue.
“.. Daydreaming again, Deliverer?” You throw his jest right back at him.
Phainon blinks out of his dazed, “oh.. My apologies, partner. ” he chuckles.
Yet, his eyes stubbornly stay on your figure. “I'm simply admiring the view.”
This meal is served with potent scent of flowers. Fresh. Addictive, and sweet. I recommend you all check out the beautiful art establishment linked in our notes!
