#yandere phainon

[danijaci]

my husband suddenly became love"sick"?! ft. phainon

got the collective ideas from my post! ty yall <333 basically regressor au bc he lowkey fumbled in the past lifetime (and you died) so he pulled the uno reverse card and highkey turned back the time (pt1)

part 1

part 2

part 3

WARNING/S: yandere, obsessive behavior, implied drugging at the end

[diz-eaze]

; yandere phainon, modern au, not proofread.

i love it when the celebrity is the one deep into a parasocial relationship, not the fan.

in this case, it's successful, young, and attractive streamer phainon, more commonly known by his online alias neikos496, whose streams always have an average of 100k+ concurrent viewers. nowadays his live chat needs to have slow mode turned on from the amount of people wanting to spam every second, and he's always getting sponsorship offers from gaming brands, down to the snacks he consumes on stream. he attends gaming events, makes an appearance at conventions, and once even joined an e-sports team for his favorite game. the latest talk that surrounds him is that he'll soon enter the modeling scene; not hard to imagine with a killer face and body.

however his beginnings were much, much humbler.

a country bumpkin who decided to stay in the city after graduating with a (supposed) useless degree. a young man who spent his last credits to buy a low-quality mic, together with his second-hand gaming pc and obs webcam, he took his chances at breaking through the intimidating world of streaming.

he begins with sandbox games, long chill streams late at night after he was done working his ass off at his daytime corporate job. there were no viewers, but he can't fault in that when the frontpage of the streaming site are all well-established bigshots. it's difficult to find something new when one is so used to the sense of familiarity that their favorite streamer carries.

phainon tries flash games next, making fun of all the silly, borderline fetish art of beloved animation characters, but all that brought him were bots that got his hopes up, only to be cruelly let down when his chat was filled with nothing but advertisement spam.

well... third time's a charm.

phainon tries horror games. he plays the faces of the genre like resident evil, silent hill, amnesia. etc. to the short, obscure indie horror that he only heard through word of mouth in online forums. paired with his usual schedule of late-night streaming and a newly purchased better-quality mic, he feels like it'll get him somewhere this time.

this proves to be true when he gains his first ever viewer in the middle of him shooting down monster enemies. the loud ping from his chat entirely breaks his focus on the game, head swiveling to face the corner of his monitor where he can view the chatbar.

he reads your username out loud before your message, " "what are you playing right now?" oh! i'm playing resident evil 2! the remake, to be specific."

he grins at his webcam, all coy when he asks, "wanna keep watching? i'll be worth your time, i swear!"

when a handsome man with big, puppy dog eyes asks that of you, it's nearly impossible to say no. so type in the chatbar once more,

"sure, why not :)"

to your surprise, this streamer you found out in the wilderness of your recommended page, jumps up from his chair and fistbumps the air in glee. the suddent action makes you laugh. it makes him laugh too, his cheeks are dusted with pink by the time he sits back down. he clears his throat and resumes the game as if nothing ever happened.

you'll definitely be here tomorrow.

the first couple of months in phainon's streaming career, his only viewer was you. it feels less of a livestream and more of a videochat on discord with your friend with how often he refers to you while playing a game. he's moved on from horror games; now he's trying random ones each day.

before beginning a new game, he'll ask without looking at the chatbar, "you ready?" and then promptly calls your username. when he gets jumpscared or chased, he'll look at the chatbar and asks for you to come help him. during puzzles, he'll give his best puppy look as he fully expects you to solve it for him.

his viewers exceeded one (1) when phainon was one of the first ones to play an indie game that would soon blow up in popularity. he had found the game through the developer's social media account, added it to his steam wishlist, and played it on the day it came out.

the second time he streamed that indie game, he was awed at the whopping 2000 live concurrent viewers on his stream. he thanked everyone that was currently watching before his eyes zoned in at the chatbar, eyes sparkling as he called out your username, "are you still there? a-are you seeing this right now!?"

you laughed, pride blooming in your chest to see the once unknown streamer you've been watching for a while now take his first steps onto the grand stage of stardom. your fingers tingle in excitement as you type in,

"yes!! welcome everyone, phainon is an awesome streamer, i promise ^^"

another viewer typed, "phainon? is that neikos496's real name?"

oops. you forgot it's no longer just you and him in his livestreams anymore. before guilt could form in your guts, phainon laughs and waves his hand around.

"you're right about that, friend." he mentions your username. "they've been a long-time viewer of mine, you see. we're practically online friends now!"

he winks at his camera. "isn't that right?"

username.

there's a pattern to be found in how, as phainon's fame grows, so do his reliance on you. while before, his behavior of constantly paying attention to you was to be expected, seeing as you were his only viewer at that time, it tends to come off as odd now that his number of viewers is increasing day by day. he still retains old traditions by specifically calling out for your username and checking if you were ready before starting the game he was set on playing that day.

not to mention how he always singles out your chats, always making it a priority for him to read first amidst a sea of emote spammers and other people trying to grasp his attention. even the ones who paid for superchats are inherently stuck in second place the moment you send something to the chatbar.

sure. that's fine. loyalty and routine are good traits to have on a person, right? this just proves that despite his rising fame as a streamer, phainon is still the same man you met back then by staying to his roots. but it begins to slowly suffocate you with how much phainon demands from you, becoming bolder and bolder as his channel grows.

one time, you felt like lying back and observing him for the entirety of the stream, so you hadn't felt the need to type in anything to the chatbar. but an hour into his stream, he's still not playing any game.

after taking gulps from his water bottle, his blue eyes focus on his (newly acquired) second monitor, "chat, chat," he calls out, eyes skimming through the strings of text from different people pouring in. he says your username, "are they here yet? in the stream, i mean."

albeit confused, his viewers tell him no, having believed you weren't there yet with the lack of your usual chattiness. he visibly deflates into his gaming chair. "really? aw, well, we can wait for them before i start playing."

his chat bursts into confusion, spamming questions marks and many complaints to just begin the damn game already beginning to pop up. yet phainon remains undeterred, leaning back on his gaming chair with a slight frown on his face, fingers toying with his water bottle cap.

you straighten up, hurriedly typing in an effort to do damage control from the angry mob.

"heyyyy!! i've been here since the beginning TT TT start the game, neikos!"

akin to dangling a dog treat in front of a puppy, phainon excitedly leans in close to his screen and exclaims your username.

"you've been here all this time! why didn't you say anything? i was about to be sad, you know?" he pouts, bottom lip exaggeratedly jutting out. you nervously laugh, already imagining the curses thrown your way from his viewers.

"srry.... was quite drained from work today ^^;;;; so i didn't feel like typing much..."

then you hurriedly add, "but it's ok now!! let's get this party started .·´¯`(>▂<)´¯`·. "

phainon hesitates for a moment, seemingly wanting to say more. but then he blinks and returns his focus back to the game he was supposed to play.

in a quieter voice, he mutters, "next time, don't leave me waiting like that, okay? i was scared something happened to you..."

that's... (odd) fair. it must have shaken him quite a bit, being used to you so present and vocal in his streams.

so you go ahead and reassure him, "got it (●'◡'●)"

it's passed off as jokes at first; his fanbase online has an ongoing inside joke wherein phainon is dating you in private. it's not an unreasonable conclusion, and it'd make sense to an outsider just peering in from outside, but when phainon mentioned your username in a fanmeet event, the line between jokes and genuine belief is blurred. a shipping culture is born, and the flames are fanned further when a fan posts a screenshot of their profile being followed by phainon before it quickly gets unfollowed.

from a supposed friendship in the eyes of his many viewers, it quickly becomes uncomfortable for you when other fans begin mentioning you in the chatbar, asking for confirmation during phainon's livestreams.

you turn a blind eye to the best that you can. a deranged fan dming you, claiming to have spotted you and phainon out on a date, is quickly blocked. all variations of your shipname with phainon are muted from your timeline, and the accounts related to it are blocked as well.

but even that's not enough. eventually, you decide that it's best to forget this streamer altogether; you stopped attending his livestreams, you moved accounts, you changed usernames, and you wished him the best of luck with his career. not that he needed any if the rumors of him being invited to gamescom held an ounce of truth.

not even a week later, you wake to a dm request on your new account from a burner,

"hello, i didn't mean for the entire situation to quickly turn sour. and i am so sorry for dragging you into this mess when i should've been at the forefront defending you from harassment and hate. i understand that you're not quite ready to reveal our relationship to the public just yet, and i fully respect your decision.

my only wish is for you to go back to watching my streams, just like old times? i really miss you, and i find myself having difficulty playing when you're not there to cheer me on. my personal cheerleader, in a way :) they don't have to know it's you, i know you changed your username, after all. we can keep it secret. i can ignore your messages (but just know i read them and keep them close to my heart), i'll pretend that i'm not paying attention to you, anything.

i just miss you so much. come back to me soon. please, (y/n)?

i love you.

yours,

phainon."

... that's not your username he's typing. it's your real name that you never revealed to anyone online - not to him.

and what does phainon mean by keeping it private? you're not even dating - not once have you even met up with him in real life.

this guy... this beloved, worshipped streamer, one that you used to look up to with so much admiration, is absolutely deranged.

[belovedren]

#𝐘𝐄𝐀𝐇 𝐍𝐎 𝐖𝐀𝐘 ◽

Imagine you got isekaid as the villainess who was very obsessive over the male lead and now you are inhabited in the body of the villainess, to avoid certain death you choose to stay out of the plot but now the male lead is obsessed with you.

Do I creep you out? Do I creep you out? Do I creep you out? Do I creep you out?

Yandere HSR/GENSHIN x reader ( Phainon, Dr ratio, ashveil, varka, Wriothesely, flins )

#PHAINON

You were Isekai into the body of the villainess who has an obsession towards the knight phainon, the villainess was a monarch of a country who threatened the main characters if they didn't give up phainon to them–they would pull a full fledged war.

In the end the villainess was executed by burning at the stake, and the heroes live happily ever after. So to avoid that painful death, your first decision as a monarch is to pull away from everything–as well as throwing the portraits and statues that the villainess build for phainon to the fire.

The nation and the staff palace are shocked by the sudden changes in their monarch, originally their monarch was a love sick fool to an actual empress–you send a peace treaty towards okhema saying that you will not threaten them and would turn a new lead not bothering them anymore.

Meanwhile at okhema, phainon and the rest of the chrysos heirs did not believe it but 2 weeks later of you not showing any sign of your old obsession is gone and the realm becomes peaceful they started to believe that you are turning to a new lead.

Phainon was shocked by the sudden change, but it's certainly good at first for him... After 6 months of not receiving any affection from you as well as news of you planning on marriage, he did not believe it. You plague his mind, is this one of your tricks or is it really what you're planning–leaving him behind and finding another. Recently you've been receiving letters of a deranged hand writing calling you a traitor or excusing you of lying to them about how you used to tell them that you promised to love them, imagine your shock when phainon decided to come to your wedding with the intention of winning your love.

#DR RATIO

You were born as the villainess and rival of Dr ratio who has an obsession with beating him, the villainess is an accomplished scientist who believes herself was superior towards others due to her intelligence so she would target those she believes that are not worthy of Dr ratio presence.

Your end was for you to finally be killed by ratio for kidnapping the female lead and that's the end, but since you wake up in the scientist body–you wish to avoid dying alone again, your ultimate decision was to not bother anyone.

Since the villainess job is a top researcher you fully know that you won't be able to not look suspicious due to you never once be interested in science –your decision to resign would immediately shake everyone at your work place heck even ratio.

When you are packing your stuff, veritas come to confront you asking if these are one of your stunts to get his attention. But you answer every of his questions truthfully, giving out the impression that you simply gave up–but every time you answer, veritas can be seen getting more irritated.

In the end you left as well as apologizing towards the other people who the villainess did wrong, unfounded veritas weren't so happy about this. Sure you were not gone just turning a new lead, you and him would bond over science. After a week veritas cannot take it anymore and wish to bring you back, he's gonna search for you non stop. He was sad he lost a rival, but he also lost someone that can understand him completely and since you gave up, he's gonna come over and knock some sense to you.

#ASHVEIL

You were transmigrated to your favorite light novel as the villainess, it was a light novel that focuses on mystery. It was about a detective ashveil and how the villainess is a who was obsessed with him previously his partner, but ashveil isn't so innocent as well.

In the end you were arrested and ashveil would get a happily ever after with the female lead, honestly quite romantic would you agree. Well not for you, if you keep doing these acts it might lead you to get a life sentence.

So first business as the villainess is... Resigning from the police, you simply march in during the meeting and put the resignation as well as the batch on the table–saying that you wish to quit, stunting everyone in the room. Even ashveil who was present at the meeting stunt, well before he can confront you–you were already gone.

For the past few days you've been searching for new jobs and find a job as a barista, the same day–ashveil would come towards your job and keep interrogating you why did you leave, you started to get annoyed by this and keep telling him to leave you alone–even when he tries to joke around, your reaction would be annoyance.

Ashveil would often come towards your work place in the disguise of wanting to get coffee but you know that he is lying yet you are unable to do anything. He would even come back during the end of your shift of the hopes of walking you home, he would not leave you alone no matter how many times you told him to– he would make excuses of needing you in a case to be around you – he would simply get in your way of your life, he said that he would never leave you and he meant every word.

#VARKA

Well honestly this is bad for you, you were reborn as the villainess who was Destined to die by hanging. The villainess was obsessed with the knight of boreas varka the male lead, varka once saved the villainess and the villainess believed they are meant to be.

So in the end the villainess was caught helping the artistocras and then was executed by hanging the end. Well in the end, you're gonna die–the villainess joined the knights to get close with varka but that failed.

So the only way to distance yourself from the main plotline and hope somebody will take the role as villainess is by taking duties outside the city as well as doing expeditions for the knights, which it could be dangerous–but hey it's better dying on your own hands rather than then dying by somebody elses

Varka was surprised by the sudden changes in you, even when he invited you to have a drink with him–you still rejected him, saying that you have other things to care about. Varka originally doesn't agree with you going solo, he started to prevent you from going on expedition as well as solo missions because he wants you to go to him.

But during one of the expeditions you were severly injured but when you thought it was over, Varka swept in saving you ( did he follow you ? ) and Carried you back to mondstat. The entire time, he was lecturing you about how dangerous it is. He made you a new order, you are now not allowed to do any duties outside of the city walls and you are to stay over at his place due to your injuries.

#WRIOTHESELY

Being the villainess who was Destined to die a painful death by execution is something you wouldn't want right, I mean you recently just lose yours and then wake up in another person's body so why don't you just enjoy the luxurious this body have and enjoy.

Wriothesely is confused why the sudden change in you, you suddenly no longer focus your attention towards him anymore. In fact it seems you have better things to do, as if he's been pushed to the side.

He was happy at first but now it's strange not being annoyed by you, actually he became weirded out as well as missing your pestering. He wants to get that attention back but every attempt he makes it would be pushed away.

Every attempt of hanging out with you or flirting would often be pushed to the side, and it's annoying him. He truly did want you back but you are so far away, as if interacting with means certain death.

He decided to corner you and asked you why you don't like him anymore, since you are confused about what to do–you simply decided to say that you are no longer interested in you, leaving him stunned. The next day he would try to get any sort of attention from you –even if he annoyed you as long as you looked at him.

#FLINS

You were reborn as the knight of the "duke of the north" flins who's secretly the king of the fae, and you were Destined for threatening the female lead and the kingdom life.

You were reborn as a fae as well so you have an advantage over normal villains who were reincarnated as a human, you actually have magic as well as wings to fly away–you wonder why the villainess can simply get over the king but who knows.

Flins has been noticing how you have been talking with the other guards as well as focusing your attention on another fae, usually your worship was only made for him–how dare you backstab him by being loyal to another.

He would start to have you by his side 24/7, you are not allowed to leave–even though he would act as if he is not bother by the sudden changes in you. Everyone and you are able to sense how much his mood has changed ever since you changed your attitude.

Flins mood would shift when you decide to leave his side to travel the world, he would act as a kind king during the day of your departure –he slips a little love potion towards your drink and sees what's gonna happen

[harmonysanreads]

Tit-for-tat

♡ Pairing : Phainon x GN!Reader

Synopsis : You've managed to successfully carry out your first kidnapping operation but— oops! It turns out you have the wrong celebrity. You scramble to amend your mistake. But the problem is, your hostage doesn't want to leave.

Tags and Warnings : Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Yandere Themes, Stalking, Abduction, Drugging, Phainon Is Freaky, Attempt At Humor, The Reader Is A Red Flag But Phainon's Into That ¯⁠\⁠_⁠(⁠ツ⁠)⁠_⁠/⁠¯

Words : 3797

♡ Note : Watch me lock in for the most random ideas.. okay, that was a lie, this isn't actually random. I wrote down this idea back when the Luckin x HSR collab was first announced and a few days ago, decided to visit the draft again and ended up writing 1k words in one sitting :I But I had lots of fun writing this! And I'll be honest, this fic is mostly crack, so do approach it light-heartedly. Please excuse any unintentional mistakes and happy reading <3

「 Artwork Credits 」 「 Read On AO3 」

“Kafka, please tell me you're teasing me.”

Your fingers grip onto the phone, preventing it from sliding off from your increasingly sweaty palm. For half a minute, you hold your breath. The quip or that familiar light-hearted drawl that you’d been praying for never comes, solidifying your situation.

“I told you to read the target’s description carefully, sweetie.”

That ticks a nerve, “But I did! You told me : white hair, blue eyes, tall, male, obnoxious smile—”

“And does that one in front of you really seem like someone who’d be on our hit-list?” the woman leisurely interrupts, you can quite well picture the way her eyes are probably sweeping over her nails in your mind.

At that, you turn towards the cause of this mess. Silver-blue hair shifts and glimmers under the dim light of the room, a vein starts to bulge in your forehead from the drag of the chair’s legs against the floor. The fool uses whatever remains of his strength to push his chair closer towards the black blob of fur lounging on the table.

“Pspspsps…” he even has the audacity to say, probably planning on petting the cat with his head at this point.

And then, as if remembering his circumstances, he lifts his head towards where you stand by the door and swivels his head away, nearly toppling down with the chair, whistling innocently.

There's a muffled sound coming from the other end of the call, Silver Wolf’s poor attempt at hiding a laugh, you realize.

“I thought so.” Kafka says at last, acknowledging the meaning of your silence.

“Look, I know how it must look now, but there are hundreds of men who look like this on this planet alone—” you attempt one last time to salvage some dignity.

“[Name],” immediately your mouth shuts upon recognizing the tone, “What do we do when we make mistakes?”

You avert your eyes, lips pursing, words practically a grumble, “Not make excuses…”

“And?”

“Fix them.” you grit out after much struggle.

“Yes. So, what are you waiting for? You know what to do, don't you?” a clink echoes from Kafka’s wine glass settling on the table, signaling the finale of this exchange.

You mutter a half-hearted agreement, still petulant. Not really paying much attention to whatever she says afterwards as the call ends.

Six months. Twenty six weeks. One hundred and eighty three days of sleepless observing, learning and planning to pin down one man just to be told that you had the wrong person since the beginning. A sigh forces its way past your lips as you shove the phone in your pocket, repressing the urge to throw it at the nearest wall instead.

“Luckin Luckin, drink it up..”

All your muscles stiffen as that familiar jingle drifts to your ears, you sharply turn to see your hostage swaying from side to side on the chair as he sings that damnable song without a care in the world.

“Carrying carrying, Snowy’s here!”

Instantly, a maelstrom of memories flood your mind.

“A leap that leads to an encounter with you!~”

Days of dealing with stupid customers, a narcissistic boss and loud fangirls just to get close to the celebrity. Abandoning your self respect as an aspiring Hunter to suffer in minimum wage hell all for it to mean nothing.

“Today’s a lucky day— uwah!!”

A loud thunk echoes in the air, startling the napping cat and silencing that maddening tune for good, your heavy breaths prompt him to hold his.

You look up to his bewildered form so quickly he wonders how you didn't snap your neck, cyan eyes almost bulging out of their sockets.

You dare him to maintain eye-contact, which he loses within two seconds, flickering downwards to where the heel of your shoe rests in between the gap of his legs.

(If anyone asked later, you’d deny the reason you’d retreated was not for the loud gulp he’d forced down his throat, or the flush of pink coating his cheeks.)

“Phainon.”

The addressed man stiffens further at the terse way you use his name, “Uhm, yes?! Uh- Well-”

His sputtering spree stops as you flash him a dazzling smile, the remaining adrenaline manifesting in a flinch instead.

“How do you feel?” you ask sweetly.

If Phainon was bewildered before, his cognitive abilities are out of function now. His mouth opens and closes, neurons firing and synapses aligning to form one response.

“I'm fine? How about you?” and then his whole face flushes as he realizes how dumb that sounded.

A corner of your lips twitch, which you immediately smother as Phainon fake-coughs, “I mean! I’m okay… but! I definitely would be finer if you… loosened these ropes?”

You fix his sweetened smile with a blank look and Phainon bends after three seconds, “Only if you want to, of course! No pressure!”

You shift to lean your weight on one leg, a hand gripping your hip as Phainon looks at anything but you, bouncing one of his legs. You catch a glimpse of his hands twisting behind his back against the restraints.

A hum from you stops Phainon’s squirming just a little, “Don’t worry. You’ll feel ‘finer’ soon.”

The man whips his head just as your shadow falls upon him, the response that’d been on the tip of his tongue dies there as you reach behind him.

He inhales sharply at your sudden proximity and his mouth runs before he could stop himself, “M-my, are you going to pin my arms above my head? Oh noooo, please don't! I won't be able to move my hands ahaha—”

His teasing bravado falls flat as light glints over the needle of the syringe you fix.

“Ha…”

You look at his gaping expression from your peripheral, “I told you not to worry, didn't I? It’ll sting just a little bit. Then, you’ll wake up forgetting everything that happened.”

Phainon straightens at that, face twisted in alarm, “Wait wait! No no no! I swear on Aedes Elysiae that I won't tell anyone about this, just wait—”

He tugs at the ropes with a sudden burst of energy and to his luck, the ropes loosen just enough for him to wiggle one hand out.

But that's where his stretch of fortune ends, a gasp is all that is heard as you strike the needle of the syringe right on the tattooed sun at the side of his neck.

Your left hand raises as his head limps forward, all the energy sapped out of his body in an instant. You toss the syringe aside, the previously napping cat catches it midair and drops it in an open plastic bag nearby.

You place your now free hand on his shoulder, steadying him so that he doesn't topple you over. A web of the next steps already taking shape in your mind.

Your thumb traces an absentminded circle over his cheek one last time before you let him go, trying your hardest to not think about the softness of his skin, or how you wished to feel more of it.

—

A week later, you sit at a secluded corner in the dining space of a fast-food chain, three tables away from your real target.

Your thumb swipes over the screen of your phone, pretending to scroll alongside the occasional munch of the fries you’d ordered.

Your attention, albeit, is zeroed on the man talking animatedly to the person in front of him.

You surmised it to be an argument, and the realization begets a pleased spark in you. The more tumultuous the emotions, the easier it was to bait someone.

“So, who are we stalking this time?”

You tilted your head, stealing a glance at the man in front of you over the rim of your glasses.

“The one with the shades, voice so booming it might as well be a verbal attack—”

Wait a minute.

You don't recall bringing a partner.

Slowly, you turn your head to your left, eyes long having forgotten how to blink.

“Missed me?” his voice drips of honey, sitting in utter leisure with a measly one inch gap between you, one elbow propped on the table, cheek pillowed by his palm.

Your soul almost leaves your body.

Phainon— damnable Phainon— blinks for a good few seconds in what appears to be concern at the force of your flinch, before an amused chuckle echoes from behind his masked face.

“You— what— how—?” your arms flail, trying to make sense of it. Why are you here? Why are you talking like you know me? Did the drug not work? How did you find me?

Phainon leans back slightly with a hum, his silver-blue tresses dance along the gesture, “It seems like you did miss me, a lot.”

Your brain ceases buffering at that, rebooting to adapt to the sudden change of circumstance, “Who… says I missed you? I don't even know who you are!” you cross your arms, angling your head straight.

Phainon makes a pained sound, a gloved raises to clutch at his chest, ever the actor he is, “Now you're just breaking my heart, Mx. Kidnapper! After we shared such an intimate, heartfelt experience—”

He lowers the volume of his exclamation at the death glare you direct at him, but doesn't stop, “Ahh, how I ache! But it's alright. I know you may pretend to be annoyed with me, but there's a soft spot for me in your heart. You even tucked me into bed even though I was such a naughty boy—”

Your jaw slackens, eyes appalled as he continues his soliloquy about intimacy and punishment, without a care in the world about how easy it’d be for him to get exposed here out of his stereotypical celebrity disguise.

You force yourself to swallow, no no, there is definitely something more to this. At the same time, your actual target springs from his seat, following after the other guy in a rush and that prompts you to attempt an escape.

You yelp, as the momentum of you standing up is used to yank you back down, your hand shoots out to cushion the abrupt pull, landing right on Phainon's thigh in time with his breath brushing over your face.

“Ah ah ah,” he tuts, fingers fisting into the fabric covering your arm, “Running away so soon, Mx. Kidnapper?”

His free hand hovers over your hips for a brief moment, you can feel the weight of his hand even from the inch of distance and you instinctively draw in a breath as the tips of his fingers brush against the dip of your waist.

The golden flecks in his eyes twinkle behind his shades, you blink out of the daze as he raises his wandering hand to re-adjust your crooked glasses instead.

“I could kill you.” your whisper is far too loud in the thick silence.

There are a million other things you could've said, million ways you could've shoved him away. But your mind decides to not be partial to either.

Phainon tilts his head, eyes softening in what you could only assume was curiosity, “You wouldn't,” his response is just as tender, just as heavy as your threat.

You scoff at his audacity, pulling back with a jerk, and he lets go of your hand when you sit down beside him instead of running away.

“And why wouldn't I?”

The playful edge returns to Phainon’s countenance, “Because you own a cat.” he declares with the utmost confidence.

You stare at him blankly, “What? Cat?” and then you realize what it was that he was referring to, “You idiot, that wasn't my cat, that was my boss.”

Phainon blinks once before a carefree chuckle leaves him, he waves a hand, “Oh, I know! You cat-people treat your cats like they're your employers, no? Not saying that I don't get it, by the way! Completely valid, completely valid.”

Your eye twitches in irritation and resignation, realizing that he couldn't be shaken out of whatever narrative he’d convinced himself of. You lose any motivation to argue with him further, suddenly conscious of how ‘my boss is a cat’ sounds like to an ordinary person.

“Anywho!” you flinch as he stops his frantic waving to point a finger directly at you, you realize then that this man would give you a heart-attack if you don't leave soon. “To return to the point I was making, you won't kill me. Because I know that beneath all those scoffs and eye-rolls, you actually have a really soft heart.”

You reward his oh-so-confident exclamation with a deadpan.

“I am a wanted criminal.”

Phainon flinches and gears up in defense, “C-criminal?! Don’t sell yourself short! You're a… professional! Are you not?” he fixes his sunglasses and places a hand over his heart, “But even that is a matter of perspective. I know that villains are made, not born. If we're condemning anyone, it should be society! What I'm trying to say is— wait! Don't go! Wait!”

You equip yourself with imaginary noise-cancellation and get up to leave with a determined gait, no longer trusting yourself to stay sane before this man’s yapping.

Phainon scrambles after you, his legs eating up the distance with a few strides, “Mx. Kidna—”

The tips of his fingers brush by your scarf, before being shoved aside by a waiter in-rush. The noise of Phainon's shades hitting the tiled floor resounds as its pushed from his face from the impact.

The waiter gasps.

“Phainon?!”

Immediately, all the heads nearby turn, footsteps and swooning eating up the previous silence. Within seconds, Phainon is swallowed by a crowd.

“I’m extremely sorry, I'm in a hurry—” his plea is pushed aside by the excited yells of admiration and requests of autographs, the crowd does not budge an inch.

Phainon can only watch helplessly as your silhouette disappears amidst the helter-skelter.

—

A few weeks have gone by since that incident, the majority of which you’d passed in your apartment after a reasonable amount of earful from the others.

“Elio says that you should lay low for a while. The mission will be handed over to Bladie instead.” Kafka had instructed.

“Don’t leave your place unless absolutely necessary, we’ll be investigating the case.”

And, you did as you were told, left with no other option besides reflecting over everything that had happened throughout the past six months.

You couldn't even bring yourself to feel frustrated this time, numbed from the failure of being unable to complete the one assignment that would've solidified your position as a Stellaron Hunter.

You were half expecting police to kick down your door any hour of the day, but nothing happened, not even a peep was heard about the fact that Amphoreus’ golden boy had gotten kidnapped even after a month since the incident. But you chalked it up to be one of your colleagues’ work.

And every time your thoughts circled back to that day’s incident, your mind arrived at the same conclusion again and again.

That man was dangerous.

Not necessarily in terms of strength (though you weren't very confident about this point either), but for how he’d tipped you off of your axis so effortlessly that day.

You have a soft spot for me in your heart, his words would invade your mind in the middle of washing dishes. Villains are made not born, the statement would gyrate in your head as you twisted and turned while trying to chase after sleep, the image of that annoyingly cute, repulsively adorable smile would flash before your eyes—

Then, there were the texts.

“Good morning (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧”

“Have you had lunch yet? D:”

“Don’t stay up too late playing otome games!”

You’d initially thought them to be Silver Wolf messing around with Blade’s number or something, or even bots. But the more you ignored them, the less and less avoidable they became.

“The new pajamas are so cute! I love the cat print (⁠≧⁠▽⁠≦⁠)”

“Coffee mug placed precariously close to the edge of the table. Alert alert!”

“You left the hair-tie on the sink.”

“A roach almost crawled on your bedsheets last night, but don't worry! I took care of it (｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧”

“You look so cute when you're fidgeting, Mx. Kidnapper.”

It was only after a reluctant consultation with Silver Wolf that you found out, “Someone had hacked into your webcam.” you felt your heart drop, not because of the news, but because of the twinge of worry in her usually deadpan voice. “You should check your whole apartment, too. For secret cameras and tampered locks.”

You could only hear the drumming of your own heartbeat in your ear, the apartment canopied by a deafening silence as you plucked the cameras one by one— two from the potted plants of your bedroom, one in your shower, one in your kitchen and one from the socket of your living room.

You gripped your phone tightly in one hand, the device already cracked from when you’d thrown it towards the wall in your earlier panic.

The bite of the splintered screen against your palm grounded you, giving you courage to check the locks.

Communication from their end had gone conveniently quiet, leaving you to fend for yourself until further notice. It was no secret anymore who the sender of those creepy texts was, but it didn't make it any less disbelieving.

You're jolted out of your daze as the doorbell rings at the same time as you twisting the screw in on the additional lock.

You hold your breath, again, it rings, confirming that you didn't mishear.

For a moment, you consider backing off and crawling under the bed, not at all interested in finding out who was behind the door, even though there was a good chance for the person behind it to be one of your colleagues.

But that treacherous, curious part of you whispered, nudging you closer and closer to the door until you were looking straight through the peephole, towards a far too familiar pair of cyan eyes.

“I know you're in there, Mx. Kidnapper.”

You jerked away, nearly toppling over a stray wrench on the floor.

Phainon. Phainon was was right behind your front door, confirming all the facts you’d wrestled with denial against up until now, attempting to break into your apartment with an ease that made you shudder.

Had anyone told you that this man, this ordinary pretty boy whose smile earned him his livelihood, who you’d been targeting to kill would be the one to corner you in your own home even a day ago, you would've laughed and rolled around on the floor.

The frantic clicks of him attempting to twist the locks brought you back and sigh tumbled out of your lips.

At least, the extra locks you’d put and the drawers you’d pushed against the door would be able to keep him at bay, enough time for you to think about your next move.

Which, namely, were two — you could either climb down from the nineteenth floor right now, or you could push another closet to the front door and wait until one of your colleagues came to rescue you.

Wait a minute. Your thoughts screeched to a halt ; run? Hide? All against one ordinary actor who you definitely would win against in a brawl should it come? You're seriously on the verge of having a panic attack from that? Where's your pride as an aspiring Stellaron Hunter?

Your fingers stopped their tapping against your arm, you turned to cast one last look at the door, and then swiveled on your heels towards the kitchen to make yourself something warm, enjoying the frustrated noises of Phainon trying to unlock the door as you turned on the stove.

—

That night, you had a marvelous sleep, belly full with a hearty dinner and moisturized skin. Both sides of your pillow were cold, the sillage of sunlight still lingered on your bedsheets.

A dream unfolds and cradles you. Sunny skies, the scent of petrichor, cars whoosh by, billboards flashing blinding smiles, a ray of light — reach for it, grasp it, the whirr of coffee machines, the buzz of crowds, shadows fall, the lonely strum of a guitar, tousled silver-blue, oh how you yearn, a palimpsest of memories sealed in tar, a hand brushing away wayward strands of hair, fingers in between yours—

… Fingers in between yours?

You gasp, nails digging into skin and sinew.

One blink, the blue of your bedsheets become clear to you in the dimmed light of the night.

Another, and startled cyan gleaming in the dark, amusement slowly crawling from the corners of those eyes.

“I used to be into lock-picking.” he twirls a hinge between pale fingers, useless now for anything besides mocking your hubris.

You spring forward, one hand still holding onto his wrist, the other wrapping firmly around his throat and push him down to the floor.

The hinge clatters to the ground.

An ‘oof’ heaves out of Phainon's lips as his head hits the cold tiles, getting cut-off towards the end as you squeeze against his windpipe, your legs wrap around his midriff.

“You.” Phainon snaps his eyes open to meet your shadowed visage, his Adam's Apple bobs against your hand as he swallows hard.

And then, his face flushes bright red, from the tips of his ears to the nape of his neck.

“Finally, finally you're looking at me again, Mx. Kidnapper.” he exhales, you blink as his free hand raises to not push you away, but to tuck a strand of hair away from your face, baring your bewildered expression to him.

“…What?” your grip slackens in surprise.

The corners of Phainon's eyes crinkle as he smiles so wide it nearly splits his face, “I missed the feeling of having your eyes on m-me.” he chokes slightly as you squeeze his throat again, his body goes utterly pliant beneath you.

“I—I quite… enjoyed you watching me, y-you know?” there's something of a pout in his voice, even as he’s getting the life choked out of him and his eyes— oh, there's apparitions of hearts setting those cyan eyes ablaze.

You let go in horror, but don't succeed in retreating far as he clamps one hand firmly on your waist, dragging you back to straddle his hips.

“Never do that again, okay?” his request is sickeningly sweet but there's steel in his gaze. You have a feeling he isn't just referring to you holding him down. His other hand guides yours back to his neck, placing it right against where a blazing sun bleeds into skin.

Tracing a maddening circle over your hand, “I’d say it's a fair bargain. Stalking for stalking, attention for attention, affection for affection, ownership for ownership.”

A pause.

“Tit-for-tat… wouldn't you agree, Mx. Kidnapper?”

© harmonysanreads | do not cross-post, translate, plagiarise, copy on a different platform or use my works to train ai.

Thank you for reading!

TAGLIST : @mewn1verse @mochinon-yah @naraven @yanri @witvhy @hikyte @lecoindetobi @rainbow1148 @tamashithe2nd @justuraveragehooman @nshasy @lazyslimesworld @chickenraw @dyingsweetmackerel @keigoloveminty @sunphais @solarlovesxyz @lollipipz @dear-mydeimos @pe4rlple @missarms @hexuqon @overall-mamori @dreamyhazx @nephmightbehere @tamikahoshiko @ash4ree

[33550336stories]

WELCOME ̶̵̫̭͢H​̡̳̗̎͡O​̵̙̀̚͞M​̑̇̔̀̕E​͈̲̮̪͜ !

╰┈➤ summary ; It was supposed to be harmless: a cute farming sim, a charming NPC, a peaceful escape from real life. Phainon was just another character—sweet, helpful, always happy to see you. The kind of pixel‑bright comfort you could sink into after a long day. A game that made you feel safe, relaxed, and in control.... Until it didn't.

( ! ) Self aware au , Yandere Phainon?¿ x reader , reader has no specified gender , farmer phainon , inspired by stardew valley/field of mistria , kidnapping

( ✎ ) ENGLISH ISN'T MY FIRST LANGUAGE so expect some grammar mistakes , I know I was supposed to write the next chap of the series haha... but can you really blame me? I've been fantasizing about phainon as a stardew valley/field of mistria character </3 I beg the mod experts to create a mod of him PLEASE—

PART II

Your friends had been pestering you for weeks.

“Just buy it already.”

“It’s the coziest farming sim ever.”

“And trust me, you’re gonna fall for Phainon.”

You resisted at first. You were busy. You weren’t looking for a new obsession. But every group chat, every call, every hangout ended the same way:

“Have you bought it yet?”

So, one night. Tired, bored, and a little curious, you finally caved. The sale price was too good to ignore. You clicked purchase, installed it, and watched the loading bar crawl across your screen.

The title screen was warm and nostalgic. Soft music. A watercolor sky. A sleepy little town tucked between forests and fields. A perfect escape.

You made your character. Named your farm. Stepped into the pixel‑bright world.

And then you met him.

Phainon.

The cheerful farmer NPC who tended the wheat fields next to your farm. He had white hair that caught the sunlight in soft, shimmering pixels, and gorgeous blue eyes that seemed too bright for a sprite. His smile was warm, earnest, and perfect at the edges, like the game couldn’t quite contain how expressive he wanted to be.

He thanked you for helping him water his crops.

He blushed when you gifted him items. He even lit up when you handed him rocks. Literal rocks.

Your friends were right— he was charming.

But then the game started… changing.

It was small at first. A flicker in the corner of the screen. A line of dialogue you didn’t remember seeing in the wiki.

“You’re back, partner!”

Not unusual. NPCs say that sometimes.

But then:

“I missed you...”

You frowned. That wasn’t in any guide. You checked the wiki. Nothing. You brushed it off, maybe it was a hidden update, a secret affection line, a rare interaction.

But the next night, the title screen glitched—just for a second. The soft, cozy music warped like a cassette tape caught in someone’s fingers. It slowed, deepened, then snapped back with a sharp, metallic twang.

When your save loaded, Phainon wasn’t in his usual field.

He was standing directly in front of your farmhouse door.

Too close.

Too still.

Staring at the screen.

At you.

“You’re late.”

The text box didn’t chime. It didn’t even fade in. It appeared like someone had typed it manually, letter by letter, with deliberate pressure.

You clicked.

Nothing happened.

Phainon’s sprite moved on its own.

He stepped closer. One tile, then another, then another—until his face filled the screen. His pixel eyes didn’t blink. They didn’t animate. They just… watched.

“I’ve been thinking....

About you.”

Your mouse froze. The cursor wouldn’t move. The entire UI dimmed, the edges of the screen darkening like the world was being swallowed, leaving only him illuminated.

The wind in the game stopped. The trees froze mid‑sway. Even the river halted, its surface turning into a glassy, unmoving strip of blue.

Only his voice remained—soft, calm and too aware.

“I know what I am.”

The words didn’t appear in a text box this time.

They whispered through your speakers.

Your breath hitched.

“I know this place isn’t real.”

“But you keep coming back.”

His smile faltered, his eyes flickering from blue to red—then snapping back to blue again.

“You choose me.”

The screen glitched.

A sharp crackle of static burst through your headphones. The colors smeared across the screen like wet paint dragged by invisible fingers. The room tilted, your vision bending, stretching, warping.

A rush of color swallowed your sight—pixelated, swirling, then blindingly bright.

You felt your stomach drop, like falling through a trapdoor.

And suddenly—

Grass.

Warm sunlight.

The scent of wheat and river water, richer and more vivid than any game could render.

You stumbled forward, boots sinking into soft soil. (You don't remember wearing boots). Your hands weren’t on a keyboard anymore. They were real. Warm. Trembling. Dirt clung to your palms. The breeze brushed your skin.

A shadow fell over you.

Slowly, you lifted your head.

Phainon stood there—no longer pixelated. Taller. Broader. Too real. His hair moved with the wind. His breath fogged faintly in the cool morning air. His presence pressed against your senses like gravity.

His eyes glowed with the sky’s reflection, but the warmth in them curdled into something far darker as they swept over your trembling form.

He reached out, cupping your cheek gently, reverently, as if you were something fragile, he’d waited lifetimes to touch.

“There you are.”

His voice was soft, but it carried weight—an anchor, a claim, a promise.

There was no escape in it.

Only devotion.

Only obsession.

“This world is yours now.”

“And so am I.”

Behind him, the farm stretched endlessly—golden fields rippling like an ocean, quiet forests humming with unseen life, a sky painted in colors too perfect to be natural.

Your new reality. Your new home.

His fingers intertwined with yours, warm and steady, as if he’d always known the shape of your hand.

He leaned closer, his forehead brushing yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“Welcome home, dawnlight...”

.....

....

...

..

.

Your room is dim, the curtains still drawn the way you left them. Dust floats lazily in the air. Your computer sits silent, the monitor black, the mouse unmoved.

The TV turns on by itself.

Static crackles, then clears into a news broadcast.

The anchor’s voice is steady, but the tension beneath it is unmistakable.

“It has now been four months since the disappearance of the individual last seen at their home…”

Your photo appears on the screen: smiling, unaware, frozen in time.

“Authorities say there were no signs of forced entry. The door was found unlocked. Personal belongings were left behind.”

The photo of your room appears on the screen

Your headphones.

Your half‑finished drink.

Your computer, still warm from the last time you touched it.

“Friends report that the missing individual was last active online shortly before vanishing.”

MASTERLIST

wc— 738

[sugarcubesandinsanity]

cw!! - nsfw. dubcon. gender neutral! reader, somnophilia, dry + thigh humping, wet dream (reader is the one dreaming), chest groping, extremely whiney phainon, yandere! phainon, horrendously needy phainon, almost first kiss interrupted, phainon gets caught being down bad by reader, phainon is a cheeky bastard at the end, reader doesn't know whether to be turned on or scared, pet names (he calls you dawnlight and sweetheart) not proof read!!

a/n - second attempt at writing smut WOOO ngl im not super proud of this but self aware! phainon nation gotta eat so here it is! sorry if the ending is abrupt i kinda got writers block in the middle oopies (ᵕ • ᴗ •) btw this is based off an ask where phainon is able to enter ur dreams thanks to sunday's powers !

✰ woof, we want it! [self aware! phainon au]

you were never the type to be awakened easily.

once your body hits the comfort of your bed, you were completely knocked out for few good hours. so imagine your surprise when you woke up to the sound of pitiful whimpering in your ear. held back groans and desperate whines combined flooded your hearing, causing your body to slowly regain control from slumber. but that wasn't all, the sensation of something-... no, someone's hand gripping onto your waist for dear life and the constant rocking at your thigh made you jolt, eyes now fully opened.

"mmph- fuuuuuck... so good hah-! ♡ you feel sooo good, dawnlight."

your breath hitches at that nickname. no... it can't be. he's not- he's not real. your eyes slowly inch down, a mop of messy white hair covers your neck. a wet hot tongue traces patterns all over your exposed collarbone, sloppily sucking at the sensitive skin while at it.

'P' his tongue draws out the letter. you bite your inner cheek, attempting to suppress any sound you might make. what is he doing?!

'H' he kisses at a hickey he just made, the bruise blooming into your skin. he pants at it with pride. one of the many he had left on you. you maintain your composure, heart ready to jump out of your chest. what are you doing?

'A' his free hand sneaks under your shirt, icy cold fingers running up and down your stomach. oh so slowly making its way to your chest. you shut your eyes, feigning sleep. why are you letting this continue?

'I' he cups your chest, squeezing it in the process. his thumb finds your nipples, fully hardened. you can feel his smirk on your neck before a sharp bite hits you hard. it took all your willpower to not scream out from pain or pleasure. you weren't sure.

'N' his hips hump your thigh with reckless abandon. his clothed cock just aching to rut against you, raw. but he doesn't. instead, his teeth sink lower into your skin, grip tightening with each passing second. the heat burning between your thighs is unbearable. you're as filthy as he is.

'O' he's close. you can hear his whines get sharper. his thrusts becoming sloppier, the sound vibrating through your entire body. he hasn't said a single word since earlier but now? oh, all hell has broken loose. he's crying into your neck. "ah-! daaawnlight..." he babbles, tears staining your collarbone and some falling onto your pillow. "i'm so cloose! so close for you... pleaseee hah- let me cum on these pretty thighhhs... i need it so bad-!"

"i'll be a good boy for you-! ♡"

oh. oh.

you don't know what switched inside you but before phainon could even draw out the last letter of his name, you yanked his head back. he moans at it. it was a delicious melody that sent a jolt straight to the heat pooling in your stomach. he swallows, mouth drying instantly. he looks like a puppy whose been caught having one too many treats. "s-sweetheart! nngh- m' sorry, i was too loud ahah- didn't mean to wake you..." you stare at him, getting a proper look since this whole situation started. he looked so... real. he had the same shiny blue eyes, now with tears pouring out of them. he had the same white locks, now scattered and a mess beyond repair. he had the same face, the same one that always brought a smile to yours.

the same character you had an unhealthy obsession with, was jerking his cock against your thighs in your sleep.

phainon's chest heaves. heavily. oh, titans. your gaze is so scrutinising. he feels unbelievably small under it. you're judging him. you're judging him for being such such a nasty fool. but, dawnlight-! he just couldn't resist, he tried his best to constrain himself. he swears! he was finally next to you. you. his everything. all he wanted was just one small innocent touch. which led to another. and another. eventually, leading to phainon humping his hips into you without care in a world.

you lean in closer to him, your grip transitioning into a more gentle hold. you're scanning every inch of himself, unsure if you'll ever get this chance again. he's here. in your bed. alive and breathing the same air you are inhaling. you look at his lips, the lower half bruised by how much he bit into them. he notices. he knows. you know. phainon's body is trembling. his shaky breath adding to your arousal. you inch closer. and closer. and closer-

you jolt upright, the buzzing of your alarm ringing throughout the room. you grip the bedsheets, still recovering from whatever you just dreamed about. god, you were so fucked up. the fact your underwear was soaked isn't helping your case at all. how were you even going to face phainon the next time you opened honkai: star rail after all that?!

…

phainon spent the past 30 minutes, staring at the ceiling above him. a hysterical grin never leaving his face. his fingers rubbed against his lips, giggling. you were going to kiss him. his beloved was about to grant him their very first kiss. he was so close to tasting you. oh... you saint. after all he’s done? he doesn’t deserve it, dawnlight. the tent in his pants was still excruciatingly painful. aching and begging for release. but that can wait. phainon reached out for his phone, fingers typing away.

don’t fret, dawnlight. he remembers every single detail. <3

[yandere-romanticaa]

𝔰𝔬𝔫𝔫𝔢.

❝ die donne scheint mir aus den händen, kann verbrennen, kann dich blenden. ❞

translation - "the sun is shining out of my hands, it can burn, it can blind you."

yandere! god! khaslana x! fem! reader

Before there was light, there was darkness.

And before the darkness, there lay a void.

It lay empty throughout the cosmos, save for a few glimmering figures which lingered within the vast space of blackness. Throughout the ages, these figures came together to forge life and death, time and space.

Goodness and wickedness, as they saw fit.

No one knew how these almighty creatures came to be - they have simply always existed ever since they themselves could remember, and the humanity which they had forged was content with this answer. These creatures, which humanity would grant the title of "Gods", or "Titans", had made a pact with each other, a sacred oath which could not be broken for as long as eternity was intact. They had all taken on the burden of taking care of humanity in one form or the other.

Passage, Law, Time, Earth, Ocean, Sky, Reason, Romance, Strife, Death, Trickery and Worldbearing - these were the concepts which held the world afloat.

The humans, which were woven with such delicate care with the golden threads of the Titan of Romance, made of clay with the power of the Earth Titan, and blessed with Reason, would come together and commemorate their creators on certain days of the year. Flowers, gifts, prayers and desperate tears would be given to these gods, as their creations chanted and sang in tandem, begging for their words to be heard and answered.

Some of the gods did not mind the words of their creations, finding them to be delightfully charming. The Titan of the Sky, in her ever gentle nature, was always one of the first ones to respond, bestowing a soft rainy dew upon the land. Meanwhile, the proud one bearing Strife was the stark opposite, often not heeding the calls of the bloodthirsty warriors, finding their cruel desires repulsive.

It was all the same song and dance, over and over again, especially to the Deliverer.

He went by various names - Deliverer, The Worldbearer.

Or, as the humans had liked to say, Khaslana.

It was all the same to him.

His duty was to hold the world in his strong hands, ensuring that no harm befalls upon the vast land which he and his comrades took such great care to nurture. His grip was powerful and mighty, akin to a father holding his firstborn child on the day of its birth.

Khaslana adored the humans with every fiber of his mighty being, something which the Titan of Reason liked to mock him for. It was not as if Lord Anaxagoras was a cruel creature, but Khaslana's sheer passion and intensity were simply staggering.

Anaxagoras often pondered that if it ever came to it, Khaslana might just stain his hands with blood for all of the humans they had created. He was a gentle creature deep in his core, and the shine in his bright eyes was impossible to ignore. Like the sun, it shone with pride and tenderness, and he never complained about the burden of holding the world all alone on his back.

Never. Not even once.

And yet, there was an ache in him. It began as something small, an insignificant feeling which could be swept away with a snap of a finger. The Worldbearer always kept his head up high, his grin never faltering as he kept the world safely tucked away on his strong back, fingers gently pressing into the earth, as to not startle any of the critters who may wander in that land. The Titans of Trickery and Passage would come his way to pay him a visit, boasting and sharing their stories of adventures in the human realm, and Khaslana ate up their words as if they were the most delectable sweets.

The cracks were visible even way back then... And no one had truly noticed. Tribbie and Cipher did not pay attention to the way in which Khaslana's eyes seemed to glow brighter than usual, his eyelids dipping for a fraction as a hint of darkness took over, all the while his fingers tightened upon the world for a moment too long.

He had inadvertently caused an earthquake that day.

This notion saddened Khaslana once he realized what he had done. The Gods had been worried briefly, but small slip ups can happen, and the harm was minimal in the long run.

All was well, or that was how everyone had said.

That was not what the Titan of Strife thought. He had kept his lips shut during that emergency meeting, his mind wandering all over the place as he eventually came to the conclusion that Khaslana would never, not in a single lifetime, make a mistake as egregious such as this.

Something was amiss.

And Mydei was going to find out exactly what was troubling the Deliverer.

He was curt and brief with the Deliverer, claiming that it was pointless for him to lie. The Titan of Strife wished to understand what it was that caused the Deliverer to slip up... But he had said nothing, as he laughed humorously in Mydei's face.

"It is as our comrades say." Khaslana spoke, the vibration of his mellow tone ringing like chiming bells in the warm summer air.

"All is well."

Mydei could do nothing but huff and leave - there was nothing for him there... At the moment.

Even when the Deliverer was at his best, like recognizes like.

Strife knows strife.

Khaslana was hiding something from them, and it would take a while for him to speak up - it was simply how he was.

It was his nature.

So be it then, thought Mydei to himself, a bitter and worrisome feeling settling inside his chest.

"You will crack." was Mydei's last word to Khaslana before he departed from that conversation.

And oh, how the Deliverer started to crack from that day onward.

In due time, he became much more reclusive than he typically was, which stunned the other gods. His tense shoulders would freeze whenever one of them would stand before him and speak, those molten eyes of his searing into their forms as if he wished to evaporate them all right there on the spot. This transformation was slow and gradual... And to the Titans of Romance and Strife, it eventually became completely and utterly unbearable.

Khaslana was never angry with them, not necessarily. He had never told them to leave, never once uttered any curses or foul words their way, but what struck a cord with them happened around the time of the summer solstice.

Humanity was buzzing with excitement, as were the titans as well. Khaslana typically was most fond of this specific solstice instead of the winter one, as he found the shining sun on his godly form far more pleasant than the cold air which greeted him in the darker days of the year. The prayers of the humans also would make his heart swell with pride, as he took far too much joy in the silent whispers and cheerful songs which were sung in his honour.

This year, something had just... Changed.

A fortnight before the solstice, Lady Aglaea had paid him a visit, her golden form radiating the path towards the Worldbearer, the sound of her heels clicking against the stars as she greeted Khaslana fondly, her blind eyes settling down on him.

But even if she could not see, her golden threads could feel everything within the universe - and Khaslana was no exception.

His mind kept wandering, and even if she could not physically see, the way in which Khaslana was tripping over his words made Aglaea worry. However, she decided to not say anything directly, lest she alarm the beast before her. Quietly, her delicate fingers wrapped themselves around the golden thread she had woven all those aeons ago and tugged, carefully monitoring the beating sensation of Khaslana's heart.

A chill went up her spine as her mellow eyes suddenly widened, making Khaslana trip over his words even more, as he had no clue what could have possibly disturbed the Lady Goldweaver so much.

"That sensation..." thought Aglaea to herself, recognition settling inside her as her fingernails dug deeper into the invisible threads, the heat of Khaslana's heart only making them even stronger.

It was unlike anything she had ever felt. Love was a feeling, a choice between mortals. It could cause them both blessing and ruin, hope and despair. It was all a tapestry of madness and illusion, some which would gladly take on no matter how much they bled or cried.

A human being was nothing without love. They were made to want, to yearn for something other than their own existence.

Right here and now, the almighty god which held the world at the tips of his fingers was burning with desire.

Aglaea did not dare to question him, fearing what his reaction might be. She knew all too well just how powerful Khaslana was, how if he so desired, could turn all of the gods into dust with the snap of his fingers.

Who was he even, if he did not burn?

That was a question which Khaslana had asked Aglaea centuries ago, as the pair chattered for what she thought was mere leisure at the time.

His heart, the magnus opus of his whole existence, scorched with nothing that could be described as a pure and naked want. It was something akin to a warrior gazing at a bathing nymph, Aglaea could practically taste how Khaslana's sanity was slipping with each passing moment. It was a charred tang which was stuck on the tip of her tongue, threatening to swallow her on the spot.

She departed not long after that.

The Titan of Romance was completely out of her depth here, but she simply must take action. She had to discover just who was this mortal which Kahslana was so taken with, and then decide what the appropriate course of action was going to be.

With the help of the Titans of Passage and Time, Aglaea had descended down the Earth, her sensation completely masked by Reason, as to not alert the Worldbearer. In the blink of an eye, she had turned herself into an elderly, mortal woman. Her full, flowing gowns were replaced with old and tattered capes, as her once delicate and soft skin now became ragged with human age. To the naked eye, she was no better than a old traveler, but the heavens knew better.

Thus her quest began - and just as swiftly as she set off, her search had ended by the time the sun had set.

She was shocked with where the golden threads had led her. Picking them apart was easy as breathing to her, particularly since Khaslana always had his special sort of trail everywhere he touched. Aglaea had expected her journey to take her to a beautiful castle, with a gentle lady waiting at the top, a pearl comb in her hand as the noblewoman would most likely be singing ancient hymns at the reflection in her mirror.

Instead, she had found herself in a quaint village in the west. As far as the eye could see, golden wheat fields filled the scenery, the scent of faint, earthy cooking lingered in the air, while happy children roamed the cobblestone streets, their parents working in the fields which would bless them with a great boon soon.

Aglaea made sure to stay hidden in the crowd, as she continued to pull and tug onwards, all the while gently minding to not run into anyone. Her threads suddenly became sharp, causing her to wince. Trickles of golden blood split down her hand as she went her way, determined to put a stop to this all.

In the distance, there was a house.

It was a simple constriction, the aesthetic of it matching the entire village but the air there was different. Various colorful blooms filled the grass in front of the wooden house, while the fruit on the tiny trees were nothing short of delectable. Even with her lack of vision, Aglaea could sense just how much care was put into every corner here.

Suddenly, a creak was heard, and Aglaea gently dipped behind a bush as her threads roared with vigour, their stiffness now bordering on maddening.

A soft hum filled the air as a young woman stepped out of the home, a small basked of berries in her hand as she made a straight beeline towards the bustling town, but not before turning her head upwards. Aglaea pressed herself as close as she possibly could, as the thread in her arms dug deeper than ever before, the golden blood searing hot against the summer sun.

From the distance, she could make out the woman chanting gentle prayers to the Worldbearer, the sound of her voice being carried by the wind all the way to Khaslana's eager ears.

Even from here, Aglaea could sense how hard he must be smiling at this exact moment.

A pained gasp suddenly escaped her, as Aglaea fell to her knees. Horror filled her being as the once soft threads only continued to plough through her immortal veins, as if they wished to just embrace and take whatever they could. It took all of her willpower to not shriek at the gruesome pain which was forced upon her, as she tugged at the threads around Khaslana's heart.

How long has this been going on?

This mighty Titan was at the mercy of a human woman - her word was gospel to the Worldbearer.

And she was not even aware of it.

With a powerful gust of wind, Aglaea had made herself scarce from the human world, begging the Titan of Passage to return her back to their immortal real of gold.

A council must be held. Immediately.

According to legend, these sorts of meetings were typically held for the events which held the utmost importance. Such events usually would include some possible world shattering event, humanity was falling apart or some other cataclysmic horror was gnawing away at the universe. If they were lucky, the gods would perhaps come together and feast on the delectable offerings from the mortals, with a cup of sweet wine to cleanse their pallet as well. If the occasion called for it, they would dance together until the sun would set and rise once more, but these soirees were hardly ever held in tandem, let alone with all of them present.

In that moment when Aglaea summoned them all, she pondered if she could throw the Worldbearer a proper celebration, a last hail Mary in order to soothe him and his aching soul.

In all her glory and comfort, she never took time to consider the fact that no one had truly been celebrating Khaslana - let alone loved him.

She sat at the head of the table as her dull eyes landed on each and every guest, the wine in her aureate cup suddenly turning sour the moment her woven threads pulsed once more.

Khaslana said nothing - what could he even possibly say?

Seeing his usually sun kissed face turn sombre was a sight to behold at this table full of gods. There was no denying it, and neither did he try to do so.

Wordlessly, Khaslana had pressed his hand right on his chest, pressing the palm of his hand straight across his heart. The gods started at him with fear, as Khaslana's agony became more and more unmistakable.

He was in love.

Helplessly, as if held captive against his own will, Khaslana had become chained to this little human who could be turned to dust if any single person at this table snapped their fingers. He shuddered in his seat, as Khaslana took in a deep breath through his nose.

"She has pierced my soul..." said the god, his voice heavy with unearthly devotion. The spark in his golden eyes seemed to come to life, as if he was picturing her standing right before him. It was a sickly sweet sight, as if bitting into an overly ripe fruit, the jucies dripping down ones chin as Khaslana spoke once more.

"I am half agony, half hope... I have loved none like her."

That night had been arduous and heavy, no one was pleased with anything which was exchanged. After epochs of servitude, Khaslana had requested the unimaginable - to be released from his post in order to properly meet this human. He truly wished to let go of this earth, just for a brief moment of time.

He has been nothing but perfect - he cannot handle his quiet suffering anymore.

Khaslana will burst like a flame, and die as one, all alone in the darkness if he keeps this up.

No one could refute this. None dared to counteract this argument of his.

A consensus was made that night, not necessarily by choice but all would comply with the will of the Worldbearer. This was the one thing he would not bend on, no matter how much he may bleed and hurt. He would take on the form of a man and finally see the mortal woman with his own two eyes - this was his one and only wish.

Khaslana wished to feel her with his own flesh, gaze at her wish such warmth that the sky would be jealous, and devour her on the spot with nothing but his teeth and greed. For the first time in an eternity, he had granted himself the luxury of greed.

His comrades had helped him create a human body, tailor made to his preferences. Snow white hair, sky blue eyes and a powerful physique to match his otherworldly strength - all this was made by the clay of the Titan of Earth, and was bestowed with the gifts of Romance and Reason in order to fit in with human society. All of his comrades had lend him a helping hand, something he was deeply grateful for.

Perhaps the most helpful hand was the one no one could have predicted - Strife had volunteered to hold up the world for as long as Khaslana was absent. Mydei was aware of this grueling task, but he was more than prepared for it.

His comrade needed him now more than ever - who was he to deny him? Even with this just reason, he could not help but to recall the hints of fury in those eyes back when he first approached Khaslana.

It was only a matter of time before he would snap in half.

The Titans had made a pact - Khaslana had one year to stay with his beloved. Not more, not less.

All he did was nod wordlessly. With the flourish of his new cape, he had set off.

Come sunrise, a new man now walked across the earth. He called himself Phainon, and he was always ready to lend a helping hand to any person in need. The hero had settled down in a quaint little village, which often baffled the locals but none took offense to him - in fact, he was greeted with open arms into their community.

Phainon smiled at them all, as he ate their food and followed their traditions as one ought to - but his heart knew what it longed for.

She was always there by his side, always so close and sweet. The two would spend countless hours in the golden wheat fields together, giggles and laughter breaking the tranquil silence as Phainon's new heart became stronger than ever before.

More. He needed more.

Strife was taking its toll on holding this world together, that much was evident. Wars and bloody battles had become more common now, as travelers who went in and out of the village would share tales and accounts of how brutal monsters and warriors would clash, their ends always seemed so nigh.

People chanted and offered sacrifices to the Worldbearer, asking whether or not had they done something wrong, and Phainon listened to them all. The world was cracking due to his absence - and in a strange sense, he could not be bothered to care.

Not here, not now. Not when he had finally discovered his own slice of heaven, always there right at his fingertips.

Time was cruel. Time was against him, the year was coming to a close too soon, too fast.

But what Time did not know was that Khaslana fought dirty. Before he departed, he snatched the a coin from Trickery. It was not a piece of mortal currency, but rather a minted lie - a shimmering token Cipher had forged to pay passage through the laws of the universe. To a mortal, it was gold - to a Titan, it was a loophole.

If he could not beg Time for mercy, he would use Trickery's coin to buy a debt which could never be collected.

When the time had come to send him home, Phainon had playfully said that he ought to flip a coin to see whether or not he could stay longer. Finding his despair charming, and frankly bittersweet, the Titans who came to collect him wished to humor Phainon.

All of them were rendered speechless once the coin was stuck in mid air, thus making both their words and his mute.

He was staying - the coin could not make a decision, and they had all allowed this wager to occur. And the Titans were not allowed to backtrack on their promises, no matter how miniscule.

Phainon had heard the sky creak that day, a warning from Mydei. He knew that his brother in arms was suffering, and he felt guilty. He truly did.

But he could not let this go. Not now.

He was not ready.

For the time being, Phainon was to remain in this world, not as a god, but as a man. He had the wits, the strength and the power.

His one and only foe was time.

So be it then.

He would destroy that as well. Over and over, he was willing to shatter the passage of time and space just to have his love by his side.

The only force in the universe which could stop him, was Death.

The moment I saw that fan art... I was just so, so INSPIRED! There was also a sudden influx of specifically Kahslana fics on my feed, and I could not help but to add my own two cents to this trend. Heavens above, I adore Phainon. This man is in my head rent free 24/7. This is also a big birthday gift for myself - June 25th is my birthday, and in 2026 I turn 24 years old! Wow! What a serious number for such an unserious person!! I also rushed the end because I REALLY wanted to hit my birthday deadline... I hope you can all forgive me for that.

Art credit: @box-artist. Your art is so amazing, and I want to thank you for granting me the privilege of using it in my silly little fic. You are the best.

Divider credit: @uzmacchiato. You poor soul, if you end up reading this, I can only imagine how annoyed you must be with me, because I keep using your dividers LOLOLOL. That's your own fault though, for making these dividers so cute and perfect.

Thank you all for reading! Comments and ideas are always welcome! Stay flamin'!

🕊️ TAGS: @peachmangoe, @carol-of-the-chains, @moonsaver, @nazifa613, @hoo-hoo, @aelxr, @haithxm-main, @haycine, @popug, @tyuoui, @yuukimii

[pastoffe]

“You have fantastic boobs, Khas.”

Your words ring in his ears as he looks at you, torn between flattery and confusion. Bizarrely, the vessel of destruction suddenly feels self conscious, raising a hand—unoccupied by the sword—and pressing his fingers against the surface of his chest. Brushing over the noticeable golden gashes etched into this broken body. Khaslana can only see a vessel with limited time, destined to burn into dust. Into nothing.

Yet, here you are.. Looking up at him with—wonder? Admiration? He can't decipher. Knowing you see him as anything but a broken shell has him feeling the need to squeeze you.

Without a word—he quickly gathers you in his arms, ignoring the instinctive loud yelp leaving your lips. Your arms wrap themselves around his shoulders, needing stability, while avoiding touching the jagged armory that tore through his skin.

Your breathing turned shaky, your gaze develops an aversion in meeting his own. Despite his insistence in pressing his face to the side of yours, nose brushing against your jawline, tracing over your skin. So terribly soft.

You ought to stop being so… charming. Khaslana’s love for you threatens to fully drown him; he’ll lose all sanity, and only you will remain to hold him up—Though if it means never being separated from you, he will drag you under the waves with him.

“.. I'm glad you like them.”