what it's like dating them and their love languages, ft. mydei and phainon
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · mydei:
dare i say it, this man isn’t just boyfriend material, he’s literally the ideal husband? he cooks, he cleans, he’s good with children, and he provides such a sense of steady security and stability that is super attractive. loving him is never confusing—he doesn’t play with feelings or leave you wondering what’s going on in his mind. he chose you, and he doesn’t pick his partners lightly. he’d die for you. you kind of wish he’d stop dying, though.
there isn’t a word for ‘love languages’ in the kremnoan language, but mydei lives for acts of service. he’s often sent out to fight at the frontlines and spends more time than he would like away from you, but you’re always on his mind—a reminder of what he’s fighting for. he’s a busy man, but he pays a lot of attention to you and what you need. if you're carrying something heavy he’ll take it from you without another word. he cooks for the both of you often and puts a lot of thought behind the scenes, coming up with healthy recipes with your favourite ingredients. his love is quiet but also so loud.
still, he’s not used to articulating his feelings and is a little awkward at times. unlike his surety and decisiveness in battle, he tends to overthink his words. if you're upset about something, you can literally see the cogs turning in his head as he tries to find a way to reassure you and make you feel better. sometimes it comes out wrong, but even so, you can't help but find it endearing that he's putting in so much effort into making sure you're always healthy and happy.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · phainon:
for a grown man, phainon is insanely cute. that man always has a way of brightening up your day—just seeing his grinning face lifts your spirits. phainon goes above and beyond in making you happy. he's always on the lookout for little knick-knacks that remind him of you, and presents you with little gifts when he comes back from a mission. you can't help but think of a fluffy samoyed wagging its tail, asking you to pay attention. (you're waging war against cuteness aggression and you're losing.)
phainon loves it when you ruffle his hair. he'll even bend down to make it easier for you if you can't reach his head. he loves all sorts of physical contact. he’ll always find a way to touch you, innocently bumping shoulders with you, sidling up to your side in a crowd, tugging your arm to lead you to places, the list goes on. god forbid someone flirts with you in his presence. he'll wrap an arm around your waist and make it very clear that you're taken.
he can be overprotective, though. he's lost his childhood and everyone he loved to the black tide—he didn't expect to find love here with you, and sometimes it terrifies him. he loves so deeply and selflessly, he’d give anything for you to be safe and happy. it makes him train harder, wishing for the day he can finally become the perfect deliverer and save all of amphoreous. maybe then he’ll never have to worry about you anymore.
chapter 1. flins gives you a proposal you can't refuse.
(masterlist with general content warnings / ao3 mirror / next chapter)
cw: female mc, suggestive, minors DNI. (i genuinely do not know if i should tag this as reader or oc—she has a backstory, but her appearance and name is very rarely mentioned. i do not particularly mind or care if you choose to project on her.) wc: 1.2k words.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · A week before.
“I mean, I just don’t really get the hype behind it, that's all.”
You're tipsy, leaning against Flins for support as you stumble a little. The Fire-Water has loosened your tongue—you wouldn't be talking about this if you were sober, much less to Flins, of all people. But perhaps it’s because it's Flins that you're saying this, because he might understand. He never looked interested when the Ratniki share suggestive jokes by the firelight (and there were many, because life-threatening situations had a way of bonding people). He always looking politely bored, perhaps too proper to participate in risque jokes. that, or the fact that he seemed to live a practically sexless life compared to the other ratniki, although you probably didn’t have a leg to stand on.
Surprisingly, tonight he entertains you. “Have you ever been with anyone?”
You gasp in mock surprise. “Sir Flins! How could you ask this question of a lady? I never kiss and tell. But, if you really must know—” You think about it a little, the alcohol muddling up your brain so it takes significant effort to process your thoughts, and also because: “—it's complicated?”
“Ah. My sincerest apologies. I shouldn't have asked.”
“It's okay!” You pat his hand, stumbling over your feet a little. The ground kind of… floated… beneath your feet. Maybe you went a little overboard with the drinks. “I don't mind. I like talking to you. Anyway, hmm… it still doesn't appeal to me, but maybe I just haven't found the right person, if they ever plan on coming along.”
“I’m sure they will,” Flins said, ever so polite even after several glasses of Fire-Water. You thought that was all, a perfunctory assurance after listening to your woes—you really needed to shut up before you said something you regretted tomorrow—but Flins surprised you entirely by continuing on. “You're dilligent in all you do, meticulous even when it comes to matters others may think tedious. Your loyalty and determination shines when carrying out your duties. And your empathy—your ability to put others at ease and bring hope during trying times is something I greatly admire. A fool may mistake an unpolished gem for common stone, but anyone with a discerning eye will recognise its value.”
“Flins!” You said, delighted. You were so touched that you almost teared up. It was rare for you to receive such praise, you didn’t really know what to do with it other than thank Flins. “That's the nicest thing anyone has ever told me! If you don’t stop complimenting me, I might get the wrong idea.”
“What sort of wrong idea?”
“Ah… hm…” You scratched your head. This conversation felt like… like… the first time you tried a windglider and ended up tumbling through the air. (You were starting to feel bad, like you guilt-tripped Flins into paying you a compliment, and now you were implying that he had ulterior motives in doing so.) Discussing dating and sex with your coworker (you would call him a friend, although you weren’t too sure if he considered you one; he rarely referred to others by such labels) was not on your to-do list. Was it too late to pretend you were too drunk for this conversation? No, Flins wouldn’t buy it. He’s seen you win (and lose) drinking games with the Knights of Favonius. Today’s round of drinks barely compared to the time you got competitive and tried to out-drink the Grandmaster. (Key word: tried. Terrible, bad, no good decision. You admit your defeat.)
Somewhere along the line you lost track of your train of thought. Flins was still looking at you, expecting an answer.
“What sort of wrong idea?” he repeated.
“Well, keep complimenting people like that, and they’re going to think you have ulterior motives.”
“Ulterior motives? Such as…?”
Did he really want you to spell it out to him? There's no way he's so dense. But a quick look at Flins reveals that he's hiding an impish smile. You swat his arm lightly. “You already know what I mean! Don't pretend otherwise!”
Flins laughs softly. “Forgive me when I say that your reactions are rather amusing. I couldn't resist. But… speaking of ulterior motives—to which I will assure you that there are none and I spoke from the heart—would it truly be so bad if I had one?”
“Hm?”
“I'm saying I wouldn't be averse to the idea of a night with you.”
It was like the world had suddenly stopped spinning, and so had your brain’s neurons stopped firing. “I—I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
“Would you be amenable to spending a night with me?” Flins said, and you started to wonder if the Fire-Water had really got to you and you were having the weirdest dream of your life. “I promise, I'll ensure you are… satisfied. And if you decide that it's truly not for you, I won't be offended.”
You open your mouth. Close it. “I mean… that doesn't sound like a fair exchange.”
“An exchange?” Flins laughs. You look up at him, more than a little confused, and when he catches your eye his gaze intense in a way that makes you want to look away, but you can't. “Trust me… I will be very compensated.”
You blush from the roots of your hair. It was hard to argue with a tone like that. “Oh. I. I mean—you want—now?”
“Perhaps not now,” Flins said, coming to a stop. You realise that somehow, over the course of that conversation, you've managed to make your way back to your uncle’s place. “Master Sousi might kill me.”
You shudder. “Ah. Well, he might not kill you, but—yeah, definitely not here. Should—should we go back to the Flagship?”
“There's no rush,” Flins said, lifting you away from where you were leaning against his shoulder so you could lean against the door instead. “Besides, I would rather you sober. Would be a shame if you forgot everything in the morning, no?”
“I'm not that drunk,” you say, offended at the idea of you not being able to hold your liquor. “I’d definitely remember.”
“Good,” Flins smiles, and you realised you've walked yourself into this—you wouldn't be able to pretend that this never happened when you wake up tomorrow morning. “I'll see you tomorrow, then.”
He presses a kiss against the back of your hand. “Now go back inside. Have sweet dreams, my dear.”
You stumble inside robotically, ignoring the way your hand tingles where his lips met your skin.
“Flins,” you gasp, tugging at his hair as he kisses down your chest, leaving butterflies in his wake. There's a fire alight in you, a want for him you didn't know was possible for you to feel. His hands grip at your hips, trying to keep you still, but you shiver uncontrollably.
His long hair tickles your thighs where he's nestled himself in between your legs, and he edges downwards, pressing kisses on your stomach now. You gasp his name, a wordless beseeching, as he edges closer and closer to—
You wake up frustrated and valiantly resist an urge to bang your head on the wall. You needed a drink. Then again, a drink was what got you here in the first place, so maybe you needed to cut down on them instead.
chapter 2. a peek into your past, the night you first met—in which he gives you the fright of your life and you attempt to get him back.
(previous chapter / masterlist / ao3 mirror)
cw: none. female mc, can be read as a standalone. (i genuinely do not know if i should tag this as reader or oc—she has a backstory, but her appearance and name is very rarely mentioned. i do not particularly mind or care if you choose to project on her.) wc: 2k words.
· · ─ ·✶· ─ · · Two years ago.
Patrol ended as the first rays of dawn started to illuminate the sea. It was the first night of many more that you would spend on this isle. Although patrol today was quiet, it wasn’t boring. This was an area you were unfamiliar with, so you took the time taking in the new sights and studying the lay of the land.
Still, in the darkness of the lonesome night with only your Oath Lantern for company, your thoughts echo too loudly. You were reluctant to return, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to sleep.
You knew that there was a lighthouse on one of the islands close by. It once was a Lightkeeper base, until an incursion of the Wild Hunt took out most of the Ratniki stationed there. The lighthouse had since fallen into disrepair. You hadn’t realised how close it was until you were standing on the opposite shore. With no one operating the lighthouse, it stood shrouded by the dark of the night.
You felt a sense of pity. Such a grand structure that once witnessed the coming and goings of many was now abandoned and silent. But you couldn’t deny that you were curious. Might as well go there to pay your respects to the fallen, and perhaps climb up the lighthouse to get a better look at the surroundings and clear your thoughts before going back.
A sense of unease crept into your heart the moment you stepped into the cemetery. Although someone must’ve been around to take care of it—there was no overgrown grass, and flowers bloomed next to the gravestones—it was still derelict and eerie, surrounded by broken headstones and half-formed phantoms.
It felt like someone was watching you.
Unwilling to be cowed, you willed your lantern to glow brighter in response, hoping the brightness could disperse the feeling of trepidation.
These ghosts were just memories that haven't been absorbed into the ley lines, you told yourself. They couldn't see you, couldn't harm you. There was nothing to be afraid of… oh, who were you kidding? Your heart was just about to beat out of your chest as you tried to convince yourself that everything was fine.
Although you were starting to regret coming here, you didn’t turn back. You were a Lightkeeper. You shouldn’t be afraid of the things that creep around in the dark, and even if you were, you shouldn’t let it intimidate you.
Making your way up to the lighthouse, you saw that there were signs that someone had been around. Fire crackled merrily in an outdoor cooking stove. The table and bench nearby were clean, with several tools strewn on its surface. Lights glowed coldly on top of the shed. But there was no sight of human life. You weren’t surprised. Who would want to live in such a place, with only ghosts for company?
Heading up the lighthouse proved to be a challenge. The ladder was old and broken in places. It looked like it would give out if the wind blew wrongly. You placed your foot onto the lowest rung, testing its strength.
Surprisingly, it held up. Emboldened by your success, you strapped your lantern to your belt and climbed up to the observation deck carefully.
It wasn’t an awe-inspiring place. The floor seemed sturdy enough, but the guard rail was broken in places.
You stood as far away from the edge as you could, watching dawn break.
The land seemed to be perpetually veiled by the darkness, but there was a gentle ray of sunlight illuminating a cloud from within on the far side of the isle. People would be waking up by now, preparing to go about their day. If you squinted, you could see shadows of structures on Lempo Isle.
There was a telescope perched precariously on the railing, so you carefully made your way towards it, wanting to see if it was still usable.
The floor creaked ominously. You were busy paying attention to your feet, so you didn’t notice that you were no longer alone.
“Miss, do be careful—”
You flinched when a voice sounded behind you—too close, when did someone get up here?—stumbling backwards, so fast that you lost your balance. There was a moment where it felt like you were hanging in mid-air, a rush of adrenaline hitting your veins before gravity caught you and you went crashing down. You closed your eyes, bracing yourself for an impact that came softer than expected.
“My apologies, I didn’t mean to startle you. Are you alright?”
You opened your eyes to find that no, you had not toppled over the broken railings, no thanks to the young man who gave you the fright of your life. Instead, he righted your balance, keeping an arm wrapped securely around your waist. Concern warped his elegant features. “Miss?”
Belatedly, you realise you’ve been holding onto him for longer than socially acceptable. You let go immediately, putting a healthy distance between the two of you. “Where did you come from?” you blurted.
He chuckled, and instantly you started to flush. You hadn’t meant to say that. Nonetheless, he inclined his head politely as he replied. “My name is Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins; for simplicity’s sake, you can just call me Flins. As a fellow Ratnik, I live here and tend to these grounds.”
“You live here?” Caught off guard by his sudden appearance, you tried not to sound too judgmental, although you weren’t sure you succeeded. No one in their right mind would want to live in such a dull and dreary place, and although you now recognise the lantern he carries on his self, the handsome stranger in front of you still seemed out of place. At least he doesn’t seem to be some sort of serial killer about to invite you inside his house where he secretly keeps what remains of his victims. “I didn’t think anyone would want to be here willingly.”
Luckily, he didn’t take offence. If anything, a hint of amusement crept into his voice. “Then why are you here?”
You shook your head, flustered but trying not to show it. “Ah… you got me. I was just appreciating the scenery, nothing more.”
“The scenery?” he asked, more intrigued than you expected him to be. “I hope it lived up to your expectations, although I wouldn't say there's much around here to be appreciated. Most people find this place dreary and dreadfully boring.”
“I can't deny that,” you said, startled into laughter for he had echoed your thoughts exactly. “The half-built Fatui stronghold does ruin the ambience, doesn't it? I imagine it looked much better before they decided to settle there.”
“I can't say. Alas, I never paid much attention to the aesthetic value of the scenery, nor have I ever made a habit of watching dawn break from this vantage.” But he does now, tipping his head to watch the horizon. “You seem quite taken by the view. What is it about this place that attracts you so?”
Now that his gaze was fixed upon the horizon and not on you, you finally feel comfortable studying this stranger’s visage—from his strange, fathomless eyes, to the aristocratic planes of his face and long hair curling in the frigid wind. You could be convinced that he was a figment of your imagination; some sort of mythical creature like the yokai you read about in your light novels, so strange and fey.
(But he was real. You know it because he saved you from falling, felt the weight of his grip on you, solid and sure.)
“It’s less about its aesthetic value,” you said. The way he spoke—precise and elegant, as if he were a nobleman and not a stranger living in an abandoned lighthouse—compelled you to pick your words carefully. “Being up here, seeing the vast lands stretching out in front of me and imagining all the people going about their lives, it makes me feel small. It’s intimidating, but it makes my worries seem inconsequential, too. I think… it’s beautiful in its own way, and I'm grateful to be alive and a part of it.”
“I see. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with me.” He smiled at you. “In the future, please feel free to return here again, although I’ll advise against standing too close to the edge. I didn’t catch your name though, miss…?”
“Ah! Where are my manners?” Embarrassed, you introduced yourself quickly. “Do forgive me for my discourtesy. I wasn’t expecting to meet anyone here. You gave me such a good fright that it seems my mind has emptied of all thoughts!”
“Do not worry. On the contrary, it is I who ought to apologise. Allow me to make it up to you.” He bows, reaching out his hand. “Shall I escort you back?”
“There’s no need to be so polite!” You say, flustered yet again. He was treating you as though you were some courtly lady in need of assistance, not a coworker he had just met. What were you supposed to do, take his hand and have a leisurely stroll in the fog together? You don’t even hold hands with your closest friends, never one for much skinship. “I’m sure you have better things to do. I can return on my own, don’t worry.”
“I’m sure you could, but some company wouldn’t be remiss. Lightkeepers we may be, but this is still no place to linger alone. In the future, we may need to call upon each other for help. Would it not be prudent to establish a rapport sooner?”
“You’re a real smooth talker, aren’t you?” You were rather impressed at how skilled this man was at using his words to get what he wanted. You couldn’t turn him down again without feeling like you were making a social faux pas. Besides, he seemed nice. It would be nice to have a friend. “Accidents aside, I have enjoyed our chat and would be honoured to continue being in your company.”
“You flatter me, miss. The same can be said for you.” He laughed, gesturing to the ladder. “Well then, after you.”
A few days later, you saw the wink of a familiar blue flame in the distance. He hadn't spotted you behind him yet, but you shuttered your lantern. Instantly, your surroundings were plunged into darkness.
Courtesy dictated that you greet him. But although he held himself decorously, he didn't seem like a stickler for propriety. If anything, he seemed to be the type who'd appreciate a good joke.
So… you were going to greet him. But as for how you were going to greet him…You suppressed a smile. It would be funny if you managed to get him back for the scare he gave you. A bit of light-hearted revenge, if you will.
Carefully, you made your way to him, the moonlight and his strange blue lantern guiding your path. Hopefully, the sound of the sea washing against the shore could cover any noises you made by accident.
You wanted to get close enough to tap his shoulder, but before you could close in on the distance, he had already turned around to greet you.
“We meet again, miss. What a pleasant surprise.” He paused. “Is something wrong with your lantern? It may be dangerous to be out on patrol if it’s broken. Or are you perhaps heading toward Paha Isle for maintenance?”
“It’s working fine, Flins. See?” You gave him a chastened smile, showing him that your lamp was perfectly fine. “I saw you walking ahead of me and thought it would be funny to give you a little surprise. But as you can see, my plans were so easily foiled.”
He chuckled. “Well, don’t let this failure stop you. I’m sure you’ll succeed… eventually.”
“Hey… That doesn’t sound like a vote of confidence!” you said reproachfully, although you smiled at him so he knew you were just joking. “Since you’ve given me your permission, I suppose I’ll take this chance to improve my stealth. You'd better watch out!”
“I look forward to it,” he promised.
(And that's how your little game starts, harmless and inconsequential. Although you’ve never won—not even once—you don’t mind it at all.)
tag list ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ @ravennnnnnnnnnnnnlol @arminsarlerts @artizxan @eifron @ajaxsbeloved (leave a comment on this post if you want to be tagged! i might miss you if you comment anywhere else.)
Despite the regal, cultured air Flins carried himself with, he was much more mischievous than most would realise. He enjoyed a playful trick more than he let on. Had a penchant for them.
You hadn’t known that, back then. You just thought it would be funny to get him back after the awful fright he gave you when you first met him. And since then you’ve been playing a little game with him, a game you’ve never won; not even once, but you can’t bring yourself to mind—until an interloper interferes.
general content warnings: this is a longfic with a non-linear narrative and a female mc. (i genuinely do not know if i should tag this as reader or oc—she has a backstory, but her appearance and name is very rarely mentioned. i do not particularly mind or care if you choose to project on her.) also features a very one-sided / unrequited relationship with rerir, and there will be dead dove. i'll put more detailed warnings before each chapter should it require one.
chapter 1 : a week before (cw: suggestive, minors dni.)
chapter 2 : two years ago (cw: none.)
