dumpster fire.

the phoebus of the past had cherished the philosophy he had been born into. love is the greatest gift, beauty the highest quality. both of which the goddess sune could grant to those who would fall at her feet. he had loved the ponds filled with lotuses, the trees alive with blooms and birds. the applause of the other followers when his fingers would work his strings, voice dying with a song most sweet. he truly loved the temple, and its people, and the goddess who ruled over them.

that was true, and remained to be the case up until he was old enough to comprehend just why only he appeared to receive all of the gifts and blessings from the goddess; the most attention, affection. he had always been the most looked after, the one taught best. the temple’s pride and joy—groomed to perfection, educated in the arts, trained and shaped into a protector of sune’s worship. the first kiss had shocked him, fuelled him with a fire only a goddess could light within him, or any other being. it was not unpleasant—far from it—but unexpected. unwelcome.

trigger warning: mentions/implications of past sexual abuse.

for the most part, phoebus, physically, is very eye-catching and alluring, as he was crafted as a gift for the goddess of love and beauty. however, as aesthetically pleasing as most may find him, the current phoebus is uncomfortable in his own skin—and it shows. in the way he presents himself, in the way he stands, phoebus is diminished. his aura, in the past two years he has spent in barovia hiding away, isn't prominent. all self-inflicted, of course; he tries his hardest not to draw attention to himself.

people that try to get close to him in that regard always get hurt, after all.

phoebus is an extremely skilled lover, having been taught and has learned how to please a goddess for most of his life. kissing comes as easy as breathing to him—because it's an instilled reflex, a motor function to him, now. however, that does not mean that he doesn't yearn for it at times.

he is extremely attentive, always picking up the slightest shifts and signs of what his partner is the most comfortable with or aroused by. if he senses any hesitance whatsoever, phoebus will slow down, his lips becoming more gentle; hovering. if he feels them tug at him, trying to get as close to him as possible, he will recipicate, and try to consume them in turn, kisses becoming more heated, rougher—hands exploring. by now, he knows where to touch and how to touch to make his partners feel especially good.