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
