#so it's open to interpretation
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I love you like all-fire
#sunrise on the reaping#sotr#haydove#haymitch abernathy#lenore dove#the hunger games#thg#the hunger games fanart#thg fanart#fanart#my art#illustration#not spoiler#ouhhhh they make me illllll#some fluffy fanart of them just to cope all honesty#actually my first time drawing haymitch and lenore dove#so ig these are my interpretations of em for now#thg brainrot came back full force and I welcome it with open arms
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A bond made of fire and spider webs
#tma#gertrude robinson#agnes montague#the magnus archives#the desolation#tma fanart#I love them!!!! I wish we got to see more of both of them#agnesgertrude#I believe that's their ship name but you're free to interpret this however you'd like <3#might play around with my design for them but I'm quite happy with this young Gertrude I think#magpod#rusty quill#commissions open#I'm still sick btw so I'm probably staying home tomorrow 😔#I hope at least I'll have time to draw some more but I'm behind on some translations#shrews art#I'm at the middle point of s5 in my relisten and I'm already sad for when I finish it aaaaaa#this podcast is so dear to me#art#digital art#you can get printables of this and other drawings in my shop!! linked in pinned post :D#smokeyeyes
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NEVER ON THE SAME PAGE ☀️
#cookierun kingdom#cookie run kingdom#shadow milk cookie#pure vanilla cookie#open interpretation#pureshadow#shadowvanilla#illusts#if you think this is related to my previous dancing post yes you are correct but it felt awkward to just insert in these two versions ;;#so i decided to just color them !#was doing a sage version but his outfit was not working out atm afhdgd#why is shadow's milk eye's inconsistent you may ask#it changes when you arent looking </3#shadownilla
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splat 2 sketch comic for the starving agent 4 fans (me)
#clarifying right here right now NONE of this is shipping#pls dont interpret any of this as shipping#anyway i think people dont explore marie and agent 4's dynamic enough#marie is shown to be very caring and I hc agent 4 remind her a lot of callie once they open up to marie#so naturally marie is going to be doting as fuck towards this kid#implied angst of marie missing her cousin and seeing her in agent 4#my art#splatoon 2#splatoon#agent 4#marie splatoon#callie splatoon#also splatoon 2 storymode is more irrelevant now than Ever so this is kinda bad timing lmao
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birds of a feather
#totk#loz#link#tulin#totk spoilers#my comics#my art#it is almost 8 in the goddamn morning and my hand is cramping SO bad but if i didnt make this i was going to die#anyways link's signs: page 2 panel 1 he's signing “danger” and page 2 panel 4 he's signing “important/significant”#also idr where i got the “hair braiding is significant to the rito” probably from the reva/ink i used to read back in the day#(censored so it doesnt show up in the tags just in case lol)#theyre everything to me. if you couldn't tell#they have a brother dynamic 2 me but its open to interpretation#idk wtf happened tonight. two long comics from me back to back is absurd#broke this one up also so its more viewable too#sparks art
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paper heart



summary: you thought he was just kind. everyone did. what you failed to discern, however, was the visage of something darker lurking underneath the man’s grinning face. such a pity, it was.
cw: fem!reader, yandere Phainon, mentions of death, descriptions of violence (not towards reader), grief, manipulation, stalking, obsessive and unhealthy behaviors, emotional dependency, hinted depression, open ending. ||wc: 13k
a sorrowful melody filled the air as your fingertips slowly dragged across white and black tiles. they were covered in a sheen layer of dust, probably because you abandoned your small hobby some time ago. you don’t know why your instincts told you to sit there, and play when you obviously should be doing something else — but they did. it was only logical, in a way — people upon meeting with peril often freeze. their reason fails them, and instead of acting rational, they begin to work their most favored instrument, for example.
once you reached the end of notations, tune abruptly stopping, you flipped the music sheet, and a very brief thought passed your disarrayed thoughts.
you needed to run.
it all began so long ago — the horrors, hidden below veils upon veils of primitive happiness and joy. all the dangers and pain, tucked away under the cloth depicting a face of your beloved (well, perhaps you should be using a past tense when referring to him in such an affectionate way).
you don’t know where the line between normalcy and insanity began to blur. where the borders separating an ordinary feeling and something much more unsettling crashed, becoming one. no matter how perceptive you were, it slipped past your notice.
maybe mulling over your demise was never the point — you could have been as well as doomed the second your eyes first met.
it has been thirteen months since the death of your mother.
a year and one month, then. you didn’t like counting the time in such a trivial way, though. a mere numer 'one' could never possibly depict the sorrow dragging your whole body down. numbers of a bigger scale were suitable — thirteen may be a large quantity. it surely was, considering the context of your current situation. thirteen months, so three hundred ninety six days filled with woe. enough to showcase all the seconds you spent on practically falling asleep within yourself.
your day to day life was the same, always following a routine you didn’t have the strength to change. it’s not like you were particularly crushed under the weight of your experiences, no, you just… got used to it. the silence. the dust gathering on the shelves. unused cups, and too many utensils in your drawers. abandoned music sheets, sitting obediently on your piano, opened in the middle — their melody never to be finished by the original musician.
it wasn’t well, nor good, and your existence seemed to lack in any rhythm — but it was bearable.
and, truth be told, you wholeheartedly believed it would continue to stay like so for the unforeseen future. except it didn’t.
as your shoes clacked over the cobblestone road, eyes trailing after all the cracks under your feet, you began to think about dinner. another feeble attempt at composing your life together, and it would probably end up in vain as any other — but hey, everything starts with something, and food was the most fundamental part of staying on your legs (at least in the physical sense).
the market spread widely before you, stalls upon stalls standing next to each other, filled up with various fruit and meat. people were yelling over the clamor, exchanging goods for currency. if that wasn’t the prime example of a beating heart, then you don’t know what is.
you stepped forwards, vision taking in your possible options. money was never a problem for you — except you took far too little this time, so perhaps it would be good to stick to something on the cheaper side. strong wing carried over the intense scent of peaches, instantly making your mouth water. huh, you hadn’t had them in a long time. they were always your favorite. maybe not the most suitable for dinner, but still satiating enough.
as you dragged your feet over to the stall, a group of children ran by your side, one of them accidentally knocking against your hip. they didn’t even turn to apologize, too absorbed within their fun. you could briefly discern the nursery rhyme they were singing, happily prancing around and skipping by multitudes of people.
"one for sorrow, two for mirth,"
you meekly greeted the vendor, gently grasping a singular peach within your fingers, and inspecting it with your keen gaze.
"three for a wedding, four for a birth,"
the colors were intense, orange and red seeping together into a flury of shades, creating appealing streaks. you almost smiled to yourself.
"five for silver, six for gold,"
once you pressed your joints, the fruit easily caved in. ah, on the other hand, perhaps it was overripe? considering how strongly it smelled, it was a possibility.
"seven for a secret ne’er to be told,"
you asked the seller for the cost — and seriously, was he a lunatic? who in their right mind would spend so much on peaches, especially when they were mere days away from practically rotting?
"eight for a wish, nine for a kiss,"
you scoffed under your breath, complaining about how unreasonable the price was. the man told you to take it or leave it.
"ten for a bird you must not miss,"
still, you kind of wanted those peaches — from what you deduced, no one else in the closest proximity was selling them. you either bid goodbye to all the money in your wallet, or…
"eleven for hope, twelve for health,"
with that, you offered to bargain. the vendor agreed. it of course didn’t go as you would have liked it to, and now you were getting irritated. soon your conversation changed into something resembling a barking match, with you yelling at the man and saying he was a scammer. he snarled back at you every time. people were staring. at some point you wanted to back out from the pitiful charade you caused, but your honor didn’t let you.
"thirteen beware of the devil himself!”
as you opened your mouth to spit another insult at the seller, a hand gently gripped your shoulder. you jolted up, startled. your head whipped towards the one who decided to interrupt you, ready to snap at them too — and you’d probably do so, if not for who that was.
a familiar face with that ever-present kind smile. one of the Chrysos Heirs. the fair, tousled locks and rather outstanding garments left no question within you — Lord Phainon. you swallowed thickly, eyebrows narrowing.
"my, i’m sorry. did i startle you, miss?" he immediately jumped to apologies, confusing you even further. "i just wanted to see if everything was alright with you two. of course, i didn’t mean to pry, however…" he chuckled, taking a small pause, "well. it seems there’s trouble?"
you simultaneously wanted to shake and nod your head. for whatever reason, you felt slightly stunted — his voice sounded nice. it reminded you of the way mourning doves chirp in the morning, all soothing and sweet. then, there was his smile, maybe capable of competing with the very sun hanging above your heads. a row of white teeth along with twins of blue crinkling in the corners. a picture of perfection. how come you never payed any attention to him?
upon your lack of reaction, a hand waved in front of your eyes. "…iss. miss? you still with me?"
you blinked twice, rapidly pulled out of your temporary stupor. oh. it would seem he was talking to you, and you remained unresponsive. what a way to make a fool out of yourself.
"ah, yeah, sorry." you forced out awkwardly, scratching the nape of your neck. "just got lost in thought."
at that, Phainon snickered. his attention returned to the vendor, and he pointed towards the peaches — cursed objects of your dismay. "alright! kind sir, i’d like to buy a few." he smiled politely at the man.
you observed him purchase your desired fruit with the slightest of disappointment, paying without any complaints or hesitation. then, he turned to you, and practically pushed the paper bag into your arms. "i’m— is that for me?" you stammered, eyes widening.
"of course." the corners of his lips lifted even further upwards, forming into a grin. "i just hope you don’t mind?"
how could you possibly mind? even if he felt like doing charity work out of pity, it still meant a lot to you. for quite some time, you hardly received any sort of kindness. perhaps that’s what you’ve lacked for all this time.
when you noticed some other people lining up behind you, you stepped to the side, Phainon following in tow. "i don’t mind. thank you, Lord—"
"let’s not use the honorifics, hm?" he chimed in before you could even finish your sentence, swaying his hand dismissively.
you nodded, a somewhat bashful smile forming on your face. you felt kind of perplexed by the whole exchange, but nevertheless, it was a nice change of pace. "fine with me. oh, by the way, my name’s—"
he cut in again. "[name], am i right?"
upon hearing that, you let out a clipped laugh. how did he even know? well, it’s not like you’re alienating yourself from the rest of citizens, but hey. Phainon was at least a few ranks above you, and from what you could discern, people of higher status rarely concerned themselves with identities of the commoners.
you itched to ask: how’d you know?, but held your tongue — that would be surely impolite. "yes, you got that right."
"well, it was nice to meet you, [name]." he said, tone remaining light and jovial, mouth still stretched into a grin. you wondered how is it possible his cheeks didn’t hurt from the constant strain. "enjoy your peaches!"
Phainon was halfway swiveling on his heel, ready to walk away — and you, upon some godforsaken impulse, gripped his wrist. he stopped in his tracks, turning to you with a quizzical expression.
"uh— maybe you’d like one?" you queried, hastily reaching into the bag, and pulling the fruit out. "i mean… you bought them for me, so it’s only fair."
his irises took your face in (maybe a bit too intently for your liking), and he looked seconds away from bursting into a triumphant laughter. for what reason, you honestly didn’t know. "sure, thank you." he nodded, grasping the peach from your palm.
you followed in tow, because — why not? you were hungry, and the sight of his teeth sinking into the tender flesh caused your stomach to rumble, reminding of its discomfort. "oh, my! these are great." you remarked casually, wondering whether you should be acting so easy-going with a Chrysos Heir. anyway, you’re not the one to blame, are you?
"they are." he affirmed, smiling when he took another bite. juice seeped down his hand, slipping under the sleeve, which caused him to let out a dismayed yelp.
you laughed at the sight. he laughed harder.
the sun shone brightly, and you didn’t even know him, but felt a sting of familiarity in your chest. Phainon’s strands of hair billowed straight in his face, tousled by the strong gusts of wind, and nothing seemed to matter at that moment. thoughts of any morose kind left your exhausted brain, leaving you with that blissful emptiness. there was only him, you, and those damned peaches.
after that, your friendship with Phainon unfortunately only grew in its size. to this day, you aren’t sure what tempted you to let him practically snake his way into your life. perhaps it was the fact you were lonely, and grief-shaken — upon your mother’s passing, none was the same, and everyone seemed to turn their backs at you. it hurt like hell, so any kind of company satiated you. well, Phainon wasn’t just any kind. he was incredibly sweet, and helpful, and sometimes you caught yourself thinking he was everything you needed and more.
at first, your meetings were coincidental (but from the retrospective, they probably weren’t). you were doing some shopping, and he just happened to stumble across you on the street. the man was sitting in that lovely garden, surrounded by prancing chimeras, and you’d accidentally cross ways. things were falling into place, and fate seemed to be tethering you both — so you only got closer, and closer.
the bond between you tightened with every passing month, until you found out it’s already been a year, and your cursed brain decided to bestow you with its worst gift. a crush. an infatuation, of sorts.
sharing your sorrows came easier, and Phainon was only more eager to hear you out. it placated the thunderstorm in your heart enough to let the gates down — you invited him in, completely willingly. you initiated the acts that would later prove to be your doom, and now you couldn’t even find a suitable excuse. after all, no one forced you to spend most of your free time with him. not a single person gripped you by the shoulders, shaking, and commanding you: stick with him, and ignore all the times when that borderline manic smile failed to reach his eyes.
you think you’ll regret not backing out when you still had the chance forever.
air in the antique bookstore was thick, making your lungs heavy as you accidentally inhaled another portion of dust, the little speckles seating themselves uncomfortably in your nostrils. you wanted to sneeze, however held the insistent urge back, mindful of every other patron — there weren’t many people here, but still, you’d rather not startle anyone.
you flipped to another page of that certain memoir which managed to catch your attention. the paper seemed fragile and yellowed, already damaged by years of sun exposure, and the spine was pretty much cracked in half. that didn’t matter, though — a thing bearing so many profound memories will remain beautiful, even if it was to be tossed into a fiery pit.
memoirs and biographies alike were always your favorite. you don’t know why, but they carried a certain sense of comfort — death was inevitable in human existence, but if you write your life down, you’ll stay alive in the minds of others (at least to some extent). books, unlike people, do not have a lifespan. they will not perish, unless someone burns or destroys them.
that was soothing. literature won’t leave, nor will it abandon you. it is definitive. it is attested. it is a certainty which cannot be guaranteed in every case. memories will not slip you away, as long as you tuck them onto a piece of paper — be it a simple notebook, or a diary. human brain is unable of perceiving the recollections properly after some amount of time — it will mix everything up, having you debate whether it truly happened or not. books weren’t like that. they won’t fail you nor bend the reality.
you turned to another page when a doorbell rang through the space, the sound of silent greeting gracing your ears. somebody new came in. you decided to ignore them for now, intently reading through the sentences to discern if this specific lecture was genuinely up to your taste (because you didn’t feel like spending another sum of money on something you’ll drop sooner than later).
and as you were busying yourself with that, a pair of palms suddenly obscured your vision — you’d probably jump up in fright if not for the fact your nervous system was already used to such endeavors. you giggled meekly under your breath, gently shutting the book.
"guess who." rang the sing-song voice, so familiar and saccharine.
you rolled your eyes, a weak smile tugging the corners of your lips upwards. "hm, i’m not sure. who could it be?" you huffed, swiftly tugging the hands away from your face, and turning to see who decided on surprising you.
obviously, it was no revelation when your irises locked with the radiant pools of blue, already grinning at you so widely. or perhaps it was? you honestly didn’t expect to see Phainon here out of all places — sure, judging people by a stereotypical lens was wrong, but you would have never thought he took any interest in literature.
Phainon pouted at your words, the corners of his lips curling downwards in a pitiful expression. he honestly reminded you of a kicked puppy. "ah, [name], i’m so hurt. it’s me, obviously!" the man whined, one of his arms attempting to sneak around your shoulders. you eluded the touch.
"well, hello there." you sighed, wry amusement lacing your tone. then, you thought to ask: "what are you doing here?"
a silly question it was, because obviously he didn’t visit an antique bookstore to pick strawberries.
your friend hummed under his breath, eyes briefly flickering over the books, finally locking on the one you were holding. "i like reading from time to time. by the way, is that another memoir?" he inquired innocently.
you nodded. “yeah. why?"
"nothing, nothing." he waved his hand dismissively, a chuckle slipping past his lips. "you just read so much of them. don’t you ever get bored?"
your mouth opened to grant him with a response, but then your brain lagged. a very silent, practically non-existent alarm rang in the back of your mind, causing you to pause. when did you ever tell him about your fondness for this specific genre? well, it’s not like you were actively trying to keep it a secret, but still. you both rarely conversed about such things, especially your reading hobby.
anyway, you’re probably acting irrational right now. you must have told him before, and it simply escaped your memory.
you cleared your throat, putting the book back on the shelf. for whatever reason, you didn’t feel like purchasing it anymore. "no, not really. they’re interesting." you answered without much commitment.
Phainon gave a noise of acknowledgment, his smile growing into a grin. "is that so? well actually, i like them too."
"i have plenty at my house." you said, irises avoiding his face. the expression he donned was practically blinding. "if you want to, i can lend you some."
the fact he also enjoyed memoirs didn’t seem particularly believable to you, but you decided to indulge him nonetheless. after all, he was your friend. your only one.
(not to mention you may have been crushing on him).
"that would be nice!” he replied instantly, and you thought if you squinted enough, you’d manage to spot the tail wagging behind him excitedly. "do you have the time?"
"as in… right now?" you queried, but before you even affirmed, Phainon was already dragging you out of the store. you didn’t protest. whenever you did, saying something that didn’t especially please the man, the look on his face always fell so somberly. you hated that sight.
with that, the both of you went to your home. to be fair, you visited him more often than he actually visited you — so as you opened the door, you immediately began apologizing about the mess (which wasn’t overly prominent, but a lot of dust gather around, and you didn’t have the strength to clean up).
"again, sorry. i just didn’t really have the time to tidy recently.” you let the white lie easily slip off of your tongue, slowly putting your shoes away.
Phainon looked at you as if you were crazy. "[name], i already told you i don’t mind. my place isn’t the most perfect either." he laughed merrily, patting your back.
you reciprocated his smile, internally grateful for how understanding the man was. his gaze was always relentlessly kind (spare for the times when he stared blankly into the distance, blue irises completely dull), and never once you thought he appeared anyhow judgmental.
"well, anyway. about the books…" you began, stepping closer to the shelf in your living room, stuffed to the brim with lectures. "anything specific you’d like to read about?" you asked, knowing the memoirs spread across a rather wide range of topics.
"your favorite ones." Phainon chimed, following in tow.
you huffed out a hushed chuckle, quickly taking out at least five of your beloved titles. he was really sweet if he wanted to read your favorites, and it made your heart clench happily. "here you go." you handed him the books, carefully balancing them on the man’s palms.
you wholeheartedly believed he’d at least check out their backs, interested in the contents — but his intense gaze remained glued to yours. now that you think about it, this occurrence was somewhat common. one time you went to a restaurant, and Phainon, instead of seeing what the menu had to offer, continued to stare at you with a dumb grin. he ended up ordering the same dish as you. or, for example, when you visited him, and asked whether he could pour you some juice — that day was beyond scorching hot, so you were parched. Phainon immediately agreed, but as he was filling up your glass, he seemed to get distracted. the juice overflowed, spilling all across his lap, and he only stopped when you yelled at him.
the man either loved daydreaming, or analyzing your face contours in depth. you surely hoped it wasn’t the latter option (not because you’d mind — it simply made you feel overly exposed).
"don’t hurry with reading them all." you offered him a wry smile, receiving a nod of understanding in return. "anyway, maybe you’d like some tea?”
Phainon sat by the table, placing the books on its surface. "sure, why not." he replied, lazily opening one of them, and skimming through the pages without actually processing the words. if not for the fact his leg was bouncing, you’d think he was the perfect picture of peace now — light gently illuminating the galant features, long eyelashes casting shadows on his cheeks.
when he found you staring (even though you just internally berated him for doing the same thing), he sent you a knowing smile, eyebrows arching upwards. you cleared your throat awkwardly, hastily disappearing into the kitchen without a further comment.
once the tea was done, you settled it on the table, seating yourself as well. to no surprise, Phainon was distracted again, vision focused on your piano standing under one of the windows. it has seen better days — previously taken care of, its jet-black surface shone, reflecting all the light. now it was a mere imitation of its earlier glory, covered in dust and wilted petals of that flower you were too exhausted to water, and too unmotivated to throw away.
"something caught your eye?" you questioned, taking a small sip of the herbal drink.
he turned to face you, shrugging. "i was just wondering if you ever play this piano. i visited you multiple times, and it always stands…" he paused, as if weighting the words, "abandoned."
that much was true. you rarely concerned yourself with your hobby — after the passing of your mother, nothing seemed to draw your interest anymore. she was the one who taught you how to play, and now she was gone. no longer were the duets, or mirthful tunes resonating early in the morning.
she was much more talented and skilled than you could ever be, winning award after award. still, you cherished your shared passion for music — you learnt a lot, embedding the notes deep inside your mind. and she was proud. even if you failed, your mother would always cheer you on, patiently explaining what you could fix. life was good, back then.
but it was no more.
"i don’t play." you replied, voice a bit sterner than you’d like it to be.
Phainon didn’t seem anyhow deterred by your tone, sending you an encouraging smile. "really? that’s a pity. i’d love to hear you."
it wasn’t hard to deduce what he was insinuating. even though you swore to never touch that instrument again, your resolve chipped off at his words. "well… i suppose i could try for you."
your friend’s expression melted into a subtle triumph. "great!" he clasped his hands together, shifting on the chair to watch as you got up from your place, seating yourself by the piano.
you ran your palm over the dust and withered petals, shoving everything on the ground. you’ll swipe it later. then, you took a breath, attempting to recall anything familiar — it would seem you got rusty, because as you flipped through the music sheets, only one melody came to mind. why’re you so worried, anyway? you’re not here to impress Phainon (even if you’d like to, terribly).
with that, you positioned your fingertips on the tiles, shoulders tense from how his insistent gaze kept boring into your back. you winced upon the first sound, trying to remember how to play, and how to push back the memories haunting your sorrow-worn brain.
after a while of uncertainty, you finally fell into the right rhythm, smiling dimly at the forlorn tune. it was slow, and calm. all the world surrounding you seemed to cease in its existence, and now it was only you, and the piano. no Phainon, no birds flying outside of the window, no overcast skies, no memories of your late mother.
with each press on the tile, you felt as if you were discovering pieces of yourself anew, like a sacred ritual — playing made you happy. it truly did. how were you able of forgetting about such a simple fact?
as you regained the confidence, you worked your joints with more fervor. everything was going well, until two palms fell onto your shoulders, startling you.
a strained, prolonged sound filled the air as you accidentally hit the tiles, messing up the melody. your head quickly whipped towards Phainon, who was now looking at you with a surprised expression painted on his face. when did he even come up here? you hardly heard any footfall.
"i’m so sorry, did i scare you?” he chuckled, obviously without any remorse.
you sighed, fingers reaching over to touch his hands. "a little."
a smirk stretched his lips upwards as he leaned a bit closer, twins of blue flickering between your form and the instrument. "i didn’t mean to." he responded coyly, no matter if you didn’t sense any guilt coming from him. well, it’s not like you’d hold a grudge for giving you a brief spook. "i just wanted to look from up close. you played so beautifully."
you felt his joints interlock around yours, and now you were slightly hot, something summery itching at your cheeks. Phainon was way too near, and the worst part is — you wished to render the distance completely.
he appeared so pretty from up close. you could discern the faint dimples in his cheeks as he smiled at you tenderly, and how light coming from the window illuminated his radiant irises. if you were able to, you’d immediately snap a picture with your own eyes, because there was no way any sort of lens could ever truly mirror his prepossessing features.
"i can teach you." you blurted out on impulse, wanting to sink into the chair from embarrassment at your silly proposal.
you expected Phainon to laugh — except he didn’t. his face pulled even closer, effectively knocking the air out from your lungs. assuming your heart had legs of it own, it surely would bolt straight out of your throat.
"i’d like that." he murmured.
your breath hitched, and then his lips brushed against yours. you barely stopped yourself from digging your nails into his hands. upon some sprout of boldness, you moved to close your mouths together — but Phainon inched away. that caused your mind to lag, blinking twice at him in confusion — did you even kiss? it was so brief, and chaste in its nature. more like just… pressing your lips against each other, as if to exchange oxygen.
his palms left your shoulders, and he straightened out, stepping back. your thoughts spurred, wondering whether you did something wrong, or if you offended him — however, there was no trace of dismay on the man’s face. he kept smiling sweetly at you, slowly gathering the memoirs into his arms like nothing ever happened.
"well, teach, can i see you tomorrow for a quick lesson?" he asked amusedly, eyebrows arching upwards.
no matter how perplexed you felt, you still forced the corners of your lips to stretch. "s-sure." you stammered out, fingers clenching around the material of your attire.
perhaps you imagined it, after all.
with that, time continued to pass, and for whatever reason you never again touched upon the topic of that barely-kiss. you remember being frustrated then, for pretty obvious reasons. still, Phainon didn’t seem to be in need of talking about that, so you kept silent.
now, from the perspective of time, it might have actually saved you from a fate much worse than what you had presented before you at this moment. your chance to escape Okhema remains unshaken, but what if you pushed Phainon earlier on? surely, the man’s fangs would clench around your neck, refusing to let you go.
he continued to visit you after that, and you taught him how to play. it was no revelation when he grasped the concept rather quickly — he seemed to be some kind of an omnibus, catching on everything naturally.
those shared moments were so precious to you, back then. when Phainon became confident in his somewhat stable skills, you both would sit by the piano, playing a duet. your sides touched as you slowly pressed on the tiles, sometimes even humming along to the tune. whenever one of you messed up, you’d laugh, bickering quietly.
you were enjoying yourself — more than you probably should. all the red flags and alarming behaviors slipped past your notice, and you genuinely thought you regained a long-lost part of yourself.
the dust was now gone from your home, wilted plants and trash thrown away. the piano shone like it used to, and the sun seemed to peek out from behind the clouds more often. your fridge was never empty, because Phainon always brought you some fresh food, and the bed in which you could lie for hours on end didn’t appear as alluring.
it’s not that you miraculously recovered from the grief and burdens of your doleful mind, however, it was progress. the heart remained heavy still — but the man’s fingers curled under its beating form, lifting it up. it was easier to function with him.
at some point, you thought a life without Phainon would be impossible.
everything was going well, and you no longer were carrying so much sorrow. previously, your brain practically drowned into a state of paranoia — every single person appeared as if they wanted to harm or betray you in some way. you scowled at the passersby, a bitter frown painted across your face. but now it was gone. all the wariness and disdain and chagrin lulled into something softer, more amiable.
alas, you should have kept it with you.
you stirred awake, pressing your eyelids shut at the dim light of early morning uncomfortably irritating your eyes. you don’t know why, but your stomach churned, and you felt unsettled by the thought that something was not right.
your room was way too cold. of course, it was chilly in the mornings, but this? this was beyond normalcy. you finally looked around the space, trying to control your trembling limbs. nothing was amiss. every single thing lied in its destined place, all of the windows closed.
still, the temperature made you wonder. with an uneasy feeling, you slowly dragged yourself off the bed, treading downstairs to check it out as well.
it’s a good thing you didn’t go back to sleep, because the sight there made you gasp out loud. your doors were opened — not widely, just slightly ajar — but they were, and it made your guts clench.
under any other circumstances, you would have blamed it on your forgetfulness, however right now that was simply impossible. you never once forgot to close the door, always making sure at least two times the locks were secure and tightly shut.
when you were little, you and your mother fell victim to a robbery — your whole home got practically destroyed, every single furniture toppled over once the thieves were satisfied with their search for any valuables. ever since then, your mother got paranoid about stuff like that. she instilled utmost awareness in you, and so, you adapted. the habit stuck with you to this day, and you took extra precautions just to make sure everything was locked.
wind flew through the gap, lapping at your bare ankles with its frigid tongue. someone broke into your house — and the worst part is, you don’t know whether that person was still inside.
untamed panic attempted to squeeze your heart, but you steeled your resolve, taking a deep breath. no, you mustn’t fall into a hole of fright. your eyes quickly jumped across the space of your living room, scanning everything up and down — nothing.
you took a step forward, jumping up at the low creak your floor made. you cursed under your breath, placing a shaky palm over your pounding chest. you tentatively dragged your feet over to the middle of the room, trying to gather your disarrayed thoughts. as you somehow managed to calm your nervous system down, you hastily turned back for your teleslate, gripping it in your hand as if your life depended on it.
you glanced around yourself precariously, too afraid of even checking out other rooms — after all, if that intruder were there, what would you do? you couldn’t fight. one hit from behind, and you’d be gone.
as carefully as possible, you started walking down the stairs, already dialing a familiar number. you needed him — he was way more capable than you. you were absolutely sure if that person who broke into your house would see him, they’d pass out.
you stood frozen on the cold floorboards, counting down the signals. one. two. three—
"hello, [name]?" resonated the slightly dazed voice, still half-asleep. you must have woken him up.
"Phainon," you began, trying to maintain your tone stable, "can you come to my place?"
you heard a noise of something on the other side, muffled and static. "you mean… as in right now?"
"yes, right now. i know it’s barely four in the morning, but—"
a loud thud on the window cut in the middle of your sentence, causing you to practically shriek in horror. it was a bird — you saw it so clearly, its small silhouette bumping against the glass — and yet, you bolted out of your house as if you were hunted by a pack of fiends.
you almost tripped over your own legs, bare feet falling onto the cold grass, freshly covered in dew. you heard Phainon’s voice calling from your teleslate, asking if you were alright, so you pressed it back to your ear.
"what in the hell happened, [name]?" he asked, probably for the fifth time now.
you took a shaky breath, running a palm over your face. "nothing, i just— just please, come here. i think…" you stammered, clumsily stumbling over your words in haze of trepidation, "i think someone broke into my house."
"wh—" the man began, immediately abandoning his track of thought, "alright. okay, i’ll be there. where are you now?"
you warily looked around, taking in the dimmed sight of your surroundings — the sky was still somewhat dark, periwinkle shyly peeking through the grayish firmament. "in my garden."
Phainon affirmed he’ll come as soon as possible, and you hung up, anxiously pacing around the patch of grass. you were torn between staying outside, and coming back home — but ultimately decided to remain in place.
you fidgeted with your fingers, eyes flickering to the door you forgot to even close as you sprinted out. you mulled over all the dark scenarios, clenching your hands into fists, imagining what you’d do if that intruder were to suddenly emerge, and attack you. their motives surely were odd — nothing was missing, your furniture unmoved, all the possibly valuable things untouched. it was different from what you had experienced as a young girl. if not for the money, then…
the grim realization struck you, and you breathed meekly, feeling your knees get wobblier. how is it you came out of this completely unscathed? as you continued to drown in morose reveries, you heard the fast footfall, head whipping to see who was coming your way.
Phainon, in all of his glory — ivory locks tousled in ever single possible direction, still donning his sleepwear and combat shoes that totally didn’t match. perhaps under different circumstances, you would laugh at the sight.
"[name]." he called, swiftly rendering the distance between you. his facial expression seemed somewhat distraught, but he didn’t take his sword with him, which was… well, somewhat weird. maybe he simply forgot it.
you stepped towards him, grabbing his palms into yours. "thank gods you’re here…" you muttered, feeling at his joints tensing. "why don’t you have a weapon? what if— what if that intruder is still—"
"everything is going to be just fine, alright?" he responded, interrupting your waterfall of hardly-coherent words. "i’ll go search through your place. you should, uh… perhaps stick to me."
you nodded eagerly, sighing with relief at the security Phainon’s presence brought you. with that, you trailed after the man, glued to his hip like a stray animal begging for a scrap of meat.
both of you carefully checked out every single corner of your house, and the more you looked, the more unsettled you became. the thief was not there, but a few things were missing. first of all — your pens. as you stepped into the study, you briefly noticed the disarray on your desk, soon finding out half of your utensils were gone. then, there was that handkerchief you spent so much time embroidering with intricate floral patterns — also no sight of it.
the disappearances were so inconspicuous, it terrified you way more than the vision of losing your jewelry or money. what person casually decides to break in, only to steal somebody’s pens and a piece of cloth? those things were not valuable whatsoever — the fact that this intruder took them was beyond off.
when you pointed it out, Phainon’s eyebrows narrowed with concern — and then his expression shifted into almost dismissal. he said not to worry, after all none of your actually precious stuff was gone, and that must be a good sign, no?
you were consternated at his suddenly carefree attitude, but didn’t point it out. since your friend told you everything was fine, then who were you to undermine his words? certainly, he knew better than you — even if something deep in your gut told you otherwise.
you pushed back the feelings of unease and ambivalent emotions, soon changing the locks and making sure all of your windows were secure. this accident has shaken you, and now your sleep was restless — but life goes on, and Phainon promised he’d never let any harm come your way, so at least you had an ounce of comfort to cling to.
you don’t know why you were so blind, back then. the signs were there for all of this time — you simply decided to turn a blind eye on them.
perhaps it was because you repressed the grief deep inside, but it still dragged you down. silently, innocently. it resurfaced only when you were alone, staring pointlessly at your own feet or a half-empty cup of water. you began to fear it, and so, you tethered yourself to the source of your consolation.
it has been twenty six months since your mother’s death, and thirteen months since your "friendship" with Phainon first bloomed. a number big enough to show the amount of conflict brewing within your heart — torn between everything your instincts were telling you, and ignoring them.
sometimes you wondered: if you kept your curiosity at bay, would anything ever resurface? would the ugly things finally appear, seated in your lap like an obedient lamb? he was an intelligent man, so perhaps not.
anyway, there’s no use mourning over spilled milk.
Phainon, being one of the Chrysos Heirs, was often sent out on missions of various kind. they never took him too long — he always came back in time, maybe a bit battered, but still in one piece. today, however, seemed to be different.
everything started out smoothly — you knew he was out of town, so you arranged to meet with one of your newly-formed friend. you got ready, actually putting effort in how you looked, and waited patiently for the hour of your little get-together to finally arrive.
when your teleslate vibrated next to your thigh, you believed it was your friend, letting you know to come out now — so once your eyes met with Phainon’s vague message, you blinked in surprise.
he asked you to come to the infirmary, only stating that he wanted to see you. naturally, you texted back — did something happen? — but the silence that followed was maddening. an utterly unreasonable flood of worry surged through your mind, each passing second stirring it into a thunderstorm. without wasting another moment, you grabbed your bag and hurried out.
by the time you arrived, every nerve in your body felt like it was set in flames. stress relentlessly gnawed at your thoughts, and a thousand of dark scenarios bloomed intrusively in your imagination. you barely managed to ask one of the nurses where he was, and she responded with a door numer — it already managed to dissolve in your thoughts. you walked upstairs, heart pounding with a single morose question: was Phainon truly in such a state that he’d ask for you? gods, you hoped he was just being dramatic.
you shoved the door open and exhaled a breath you didn’t know you were holding. there he was — alive, upright, and breathing. he sat on the bed with a slight recline, supported by a multitude of pillows, his gaze fixed on something outside the window. when he heard you come in, he turned, expression almost instantly shifting into a cheerful smile.
"[name], you came." he hummed happily, briefly running his fingers through the fair locks, maybe a bit self-conscious by how messy they were.
Phainon’s left cheek was covered by a piece of gauze, and you managed to spot a few bandages sticking from under his loose robes — but fortunately, nothing else caught your attention. he was all well, and now you were wondering why did he sent you such an ominous message in the first place. maybe he simply wanted to mess with you.
you nodded, rendering the space between you two. "of course i did." you spoke meekly, deciding to seat yourself on the small chair, standing just right next to the bed. "anyway, are you… okay?"
the blue irises studied you for good, prolonged three seconds before he thought answer. "could have been worse. accidents happen from time to time, even to me." he chuckled, a cough ripping from his chest abruptly.
you winced, fiddling with your fingers. you did not know what to do. "why don’t you lie down?" you asked, sending him a wry smile. comforting others was never your strongest forte, and now it was evidently showing.
he obediently took up on your offer, the corners of his lips remaining lifted. "[name], don’t frown so much. it’s not like i’m dying, or something."
you laughed at that comment, and he laughed along. whenever you as much as voiced any sound of joy, he always followed suit — at first it wasn’t very noticeable to you, but after some time, you recognized it as a habit of sorts. an unconditioned reflex.
"sorry. i didn’t mean to, i just…" you trailed off, eyes falling to your lap.
a short beat of silence passed between you before Phainon spoke again. "you look especially pretty today. any occasion?" he mused, a teasing lilt to his voice.
at that, you almost choked on your own spit. your relationship with the man was… well, somewhat questionable — but whenever he complimented you in such a straightforward way, you always felt as if somebody smacked you across the face with an electric wire.
you cleared your throat, trying to fight off the blush steadily creeping onto your cheeks. "maybe? i’m not sure. i was supposed to meet up with my friend today." you explained.
Phainon’s smile widened, and you didn’t fail to spot how the corner of his lips twitched. "sounds great."
you nodded, unsure of what to reply with. sometimes he responded with such vague sentences, it was hard to even come up with an answer. still, you forced your mind to muster up anything to keep the conversation going.
you talked for quite a while now, and you definitely lost the track of time — the sky darkened slightly, and you continued to ignore the buzzing of your teleslate. whenever you reached into your bag, your friend always began asking you some barely sensible questions, demanding your attention to stay focused solely on him.
you indulged him, naturally, but when you heard the sound of a ringtone, you could no longer pretend. what you were doing was hardly polite — looking at the hour, you were already fifteen minutes late to your meeting. even if Phainon was battered, he surely would understand, right? after all, he is the prime example of kindness, constantly gracing everyone with that cordial smile of his.
with a sigh, you grasped the device, ready to pick up. "sorry, i really have to—"
before your fingertip managed to even do as much as graze the teleslate’s screen, a hand suddenly locked around your wrist. you let out a mixture of surprise and confusion from your throat, vision returning to Phainon. he was smiling — alas, it didn’t encompass his eyes anymore. the man’s grip wasn’t hard, but it caused you to accidentally drop your teleslate, the thing slipping from your palm and hitting the ground with a clatter. it was still ringing a merry tune, so notorious and loud.
you swallowed, consternation painting itself across your face. "hey, what are—"
a vivid picture of sudden change grew in front of you, dull irises snapping back into their lively forms — he hastily let go of your limb, retracting his hand. did Phainon suffer some head trauma while he was away on a mission? he never once acted so erratically before, so you wouldn’t be surprised to find out his brain was in a concussed state.
"sorry. is your teleslate alright?" he spoke calmly, easing back into the stack of pillows.
you bend down to pick it up, briefly inspecting it. "yes, it is." you nodded, eyes avoiding him. when you glanced at the screen, you saw at least ten delivered messages, waiting for you to read. you felt guilty.
"anyway," he started, that lighthearted lace returning to his tone, "who were you supposed to meet up with?"
you sighed at the innocent question, turning the device off. "Phaoriseus. you remember him, don’t you?"
to be completely honest, you expected another burst of bitterness from your friend (and you wouldn’t blame him for it) — so it was a surprise when Phainon gave a hum of understanding, still smiling at you without a single waver. "i do remember him."
(you didn’t spot how terribly hard his fingers curled around the covers, nor the tight clench of his jaws).
"so, uhh, i guess i should…" you began, wondering why were you feeling so unsure, "i should go now. he’ll get mad if i just ditch him like that."
Phainon’s expression remained frozen for a good second — but soon the blank page of his face twisted into a pitiful frown, eyebrows knitting together. "really? but you just got there!" he protested, and you thought he looked like a mistreated dog. injured face, stitches, locks tousled messily — and those big eyes, practically begging.
he was not right. you didn’t just get there. it has been two hours since you stepped into infirmary, and perhaps it would be better to go now — but Phainon had this irresistible ability of tugging on your poor heartstrings. you felt torn, and when your teleslate began ringing again, you knew it was the high time you finally decide.
and the worst part is — it came so easily to you. just like that. without much hesitancy, you turned on the silent mode, tossing the thing back into your bag.
sure, you wanted to maintain friendships, and whatnot — but the man lying now in front of you was simply more important. you chuckled dryly under your breath, wondering how could you ever possibly leave his side — and when he heard the sound coming from your mouth, he laughed along. sweetly, like pure saccharine or sugarcoated apples.
"so you’ll stay, i presume?" he inquired, fingertips reaching over to yours. you squeezed his hand immediately, smiling at the warmth of his joints.
"of course i’ll stay." you affirmed, all remnants of internal conflict seeping away. it was good this way. you didn’t need much in life — as long as you had Phainon, everything would be just fine.
you could mock your past self for remaining so oblivious, but it would lack in any sense anyway. it’s not as if berating yourself for putting trust in somebody else could fix the old mistakes — none can undo the past.
now that you think about it, Phainon always was… somewhat quirky. beloved by everyone, cherished and praised highly in the general community of Okhema, he stayed as a picture-perfect golden boy. no one would ever suspect there was something more to him — not even you, at least back then.
however, sometimes his usually radiant eyes lost their glow, boring pointedly into the distance with dullness you couldn’t put your finger on, or discern where it was coming from. it was eerie in a way, seeing how the very life seemed to practically disappear from him — but you never thought to judge him. you understood better than anyone else that a human’s existence is filled with various hardships and grief. maybe Phainon experienced something akin to your loss, and simply attempted to smother the sorrow instead of letting it dissolve naturally.
then, there were his mood swings. they weren’t overly prominent, but it was quite apparent the emotions within him were in a constant state of swirl. for example, how quickly and rapidly he could burst into laughter at something mildly funny you said — you always wondered whether he seriously found your dry jokes so amusing.
not to mention, you perceived Phainon as someone relentlessly kind, but he just had that odd habit of glaring at whoever was talking to you. no matter if you were acquainted with them, or not — he’d stand a little behind you, eyebrows narrowing together lowly. when you caught him scowling like so, his look always shifted into a docile smile, innocently asking what was wrong — as if he never did anything in the first place. you let that slide, too.
perhaps this was not a very obvious sign, but from time to time, you noticed the slip-ups in his masterfully crafted masks. well, maybe not masterfully, because Phainon wasn’t all that great at controlling his facial expressions — but the fact he could hold them up with such a hell in his mind remained impressive. you stated something against his wishes — his eyebrow twitched. you did specifically what he told you not to do — his lower eyelid quivered, as if he was seconds away from losing it.
and finally, the vague responses Phainon offered you. previously, you had no clue why he got so mopey sometimes, but now you know it stemmed from pure, barely contained jealousy. the short "okay-s" and "fine-s" often sounded as if he practically forced them out. almost like there was something in his throat — obscuring the man’s windpipe, refusing him from mustering up anything more.
earlier on, when you were still so blissfully oblivious, you could live with that. you could swallow down all the doubts and questions, cherishing the company of your beloved friend — or something more. you ignored all the cracks, and wavers, pretending not to see the sharp eyes of a predator lurking from underneath sheep’s clothing.
you were so hung-up on the vision of remaining by Phainon’s side, you ignored the warnings — not only originating from your own intuition, but other’s as well.
the weather seemed a bit unstable today — you agreed to come out on a walk with Phainon, bumping into Mydei along the way, and dragging him with you too — and the sun shone brightly from one part of the sky, while the other remained darkened by the rain clouds. it was a little unsettling, watching as the gloom spread relentlessly fast towards your way.
still, you couldn’t exactly complain. you were having fun with both of the men, giggling under your breath as they bickered over the dumbest things. you already had to work as a mediator, and a judge — when their debates remained unsolved, they instantly turned towards you, demanding you decide which one of them was right.
and as you strolled through the main square, your eyes met with an ice cream stall. the temperature was quite hot, so you offered to buy some — Phainon agreed with you, saying that he can go wait in the line, since it was pretty long. you sent him a grateful nod, hiding with Mydei in the shade meanwhile he had to stand in the scorching sun, already appearing somewhat dazed by the hotness.
you leaned on the cool pillar, sighing with relief. the man next to you followed suit, glancing at you with the corner of his piercingly sharp iris. "[name], i have to ask you about something." he began, perhaps a bit tentatively.
to hear him speak up first was a slight surprise, especially since you weren’t particularly close, nor did Mydei seem to be overly social. still, you didn’t point it out — it’s not like it was a bad thing he attempted to strike up a conversation with you.
"go ahead." you sent him an encouraging smile, quickly reaching to wipe the sweat off of your brow. the high temperature was seriously getting to you — any longer in the sun, and you’d probably faint.
he cleared his throat, letting out a prolonged sigh. "what do you think of Phainon?” he questioned, the tone of his voice more gravely than usual.
confused, you blinked twice, mulling over his words. what’s that supposed to mean? "well, i think he’s a… good person. i enjoy his company.” you replied, wondering if that’s the answer Mydei was looking for.
the man shook his head, eyebrows narrowing together. "is that all? don’t you think he’s been acting off?"
the more he talked, the more perplexed you got. "what?"
Mydei clicked his tongue in irritation, probably barely holding back a scoff at your obliviousness. "[name], i’m sure you are more intelligent than you let on. don’t tell me you can’t see how he looks at you?"
a nervous chuckle escaped your lips as you scratched the nape of your neck. where was he even going with all this? "sorry, are you—" you took a pause, weighting your words, "are you insinuating Phainon has a crush on me?"
this of course wouldn’t be any sort of revelation, considering the things you both have done before, however hearing it from somebody else’s mouth was certainly weird.
he huffed out a humorless chuckle, leaning in a bit closer, as if his sentence was some kind of top-secret. "more than just infatuation. there’s… there’s something uncanny to his gaze." Mydei murmured with a hint of cautiousness in his voice. "i really hate to talk of him in such a way, but i know him longer than you, and—"
your brain almost — almost connected all the circumstances and dots you were pushing back for a long time already, living in denial — but then a familiar voice caused you both to jump back, straightening out.
"i’m back!" you turned to look at Phainon who held up three cones, a triumphant grin stretching his lips upwards. "now, what were the two of you talking about, hm?" he laughed inconspicuously, handing out the ice cream.
Mydei sent you a glare so stern, you’d never dream of admitting the truth. "just… discussing our favorite chimeras." you forced out, making up some hardly-authentic excuse on the spot. you saw the blonde man cringe at your dumb lie.
Phainon’s eyebrows lifted, and he nodded slowly, as if silently messaging he didn’t believe a single word. "is that so? well, Mydei was frowning so much i thought you were conversing about the very death." he joked lightheartedly, licking at the already dripping ice cream.
"it doesn’t matter, Deliverer. [name]’s telling the truth." he retorted, and you winced when he took a formidable bite out of the cold food.
you observed them exchange heated looks, but neither said anything further. with that, you took a small step back, hunching your shoulders inwards as you slowly licked on the ice cream — for whatever reason, you lost your appetite.
funnily enough, no matter how ominous Mydei’s words were, you soon forgot them. an awful decision on your side, but hey — at least you’re aware now that he remained completely truthful, then. you could be almost grateful at his high perception, though it didn’t help much at that time.
you were never close with the crown prince of Kremnos — he always seemed a bit distant, and detached from the rest. the only reason you had any contact with him was because of Phainon. perhaps that’s the reason why his warning dissipated so quickly from your mind — assuming you were better friends, you’d surely take everything he told you under consideration.
as you slowly reached towards the end of your favored piece, fingers falling rhythmically on the tiles, you began to think you should have listened. you should have taken it all to heart, ridding yourself of the blindness, and accepting the truth.
alas, you didn’t do so, and the longer you sit by the piano, playing and mulling over events of the past year, the more evident your demise starts to appear. every single sound resonates like the oh-so familiar footsteps, and singing of the night birds outside reminds you of his voice.
maybe he’s standing right behind you, and you just don’t know it yet. a silly, paranoid vision that was — you made sure to lock the doors, barricading them with additional furniture. you’d certainly hear it, if he were to force his way inside — but still, you feared to turn your head.
after all, when it came to Phainon, your cognitive functions always seemed a bit faulty.
the storm season began, and you shining with utter intelligence, forgot to take your umbrella. again. you swear, at this point you’ll have to write it on your forehead in big, bold letters — remember about the rain!, or something of the sort.
fortunately or unfortunately, you were close to Phainon’s place, so you quickly ran to his door, almost slipping on the mud. with a huff of exasperation, you knocked energetically, hoping he was home. your limbs were trembling from the cold, and clothes stuck uncomfortably to your frame, encompassing you in their heavy wetness. you barely stopped the chattering of your teeth.
after a few seconds, the man finally opened the door, obviously taken aback to see you. "oh, [name]!" he called out in surprise, immediately ushering you inside with a kind smile.
once he shut the entrance, you sighed in relief, drinking in the tranquil silence. loud rainfall was no more, muffed out by the walls surrounding you — and the air definitely got warmer, a soothing balm to your shaky joints. then, you turned to look at Phainon.
"i got caught up in the rain." you stated the obvious, a humorous snicker slipping past your lips as you quickly shook off the water-filled shoes.
your friend’s expression turned fond, and he cocked one eyebrow up at you. "really? i never would have noticed." he chuckled, reaching for your soaked hair — he raked his fingers through the strands, and you swatted his teasing touch away.
"anyway, i’m cold and i want something to drink." you stated, hurriedly dragging your feet towards the living room. Phainon followed in your tracks, just a few steps behind.
you sat on the leather couch, barely containing the shaky breath threatening to escape you. he stood in front of you, clasping his hands. "alright, how about this— self-service today, and while you’re preparing yourself tea, i’ll run you a bath." he offered, before quickly adding: "oh, and maybe i’ll find some fitting garments for you…"
the vision of a hot bath and dry clothes was better than ever — you nodded earnestly, jumping up from the couch like a wind-up toy. "sounds good. thank you, Phainon." you smiled, grateful for such a considerate companion. whatever ethereal being was looking after you, they certainly made sure to bless you with an angel.
he reciprocated the gesture, saying he’ll try to be as quick as possible, soon emerging upstairs. you already took a step forward the kitchen — but then something caught your eye.
door, slightly ajar, just in the corner of the room — of course, you were aware of their existence, but didn’t know where they actually led to. they always remained tightly shut, and Phainon never seemed to use them (at least in your presence).
upon some tinge of uncontainable curiosity, you walked towards the source of your interest. it was extremely rude to pry and search through one’s home while they remained unaware — but your friend wouldn’t get mad even if he found out, right? sure, maybe he’d scold you, but it would end at that.
you opened the door a bit wider, studying the space — it was rather claustrophobic, to be honest. it looked like a larder, except it lacked in any sort of food. a rather obscure wall unit stretched on your left, devoid of anything useful in particular — empty jars, some scrolls, everything covered in a thick layer of dust and cobwebs. the only thing that didn’t seem abandoned was a carton box, situated atop a feeble chair.
you stepped forwards, prying its flaps open with the slightest of guilt — alas, the freshly ignited marvel won, and you couldn’t hold yourself back. at first it didn’t seem to harbor anything special, just a few books along with an innocent-looking wooden casket. you almost laughed, a bit disappointed to find nothing interesting — but then you saw it.
those were your books, the same ones you lent to him some time ago, and pretty much forgot about.
why would Phainon store them inside some dusty cellar instead of just giving them back to you? it was perplexing. you slowly reached for them, lifting the books up — everything seemed fine, and they lacked in any damage. you put them away, focus relocating towards the unfamiliar object lying at the bottom — a… diary?
you gently grasped it, your instincts screaming at you to abandon your task and go make yourself that damned tea. unfortunately, you decided to stay curious.
as you slowly opened it, you immediately got greeted with the familiar handwriting — it was loopy, and nice to the eye. you always envied Phainon because of it.
with a shaky exhale of thrill, you began to scan through the contents.
i finally spoke to [name] today. after all my hesitation, i can’t believe how gentle and kind she turned out to be. what was i so afraid of? i waited for the perfect moment, wanting to make a good impression — and i think it was worth it.
i bought her peaches, though i’m not quite sure why she was so hellbent on bargaining for them. she’s never lacked in money, at least from what i’ve managed to deduce. still, i bought them, and she surprised me by offering one back. such a small thing, and yet it meant so much. i nearly cheered out loud with joy.
it feels like a good beginning. earning her trust will take time, i know — but perhaps i can dare to believe i’ve already taken the first step. i dearly hope i’m not wrong.
your eyebrows narrowed together, and the air gone heavy in your lungs. what? just… just what the hell was he even writing about? yes, the piece of text seemed innocent enough, but it wasn’t hard to discern Phainon thought of speaking to you long before you personally met him. maybe you were simply exaggerating, and the man’s intentions remained pure — but still, you hurriedly shuffled through the pages, stopping on another one.
today was thankfully free from any obligations, leaving me with much time to devote to what truly matters: learning more about [name]. it’s not difficult to trace someone’s steps, honestly. i’ve always found it quite easy — some may say it’s somewhat unethical, but i never thought of it that way. ah, i digress, don’t i?
she doesn’t work — not surprising, really, considering her late mother’s fortune. if memory serves me right, that woman was once a pianist of some renown. still, i do wish [name] ventured out more often — her long absences complicate things unnecessarily. but i endure.
when she does take a walk, she moves as if without a particular purpose — never talking to anyone, never daring to look up from her feet. it fascinates me. what thoughts fill her head during those quiet strolls?
she has some sort of a fondness for that antique bookstore, near the main square. i paid a visit myself, naturally. the clerk, eager to please a Heir, shared the details of her last purchase — a memoir. i’ve never cared much for them, but if my [name] finds value in such lectures, then i shall too. it’s only logical, after all.
as always, i was careful today. our paths crossed — seemingly by chance, of course. i’ve gone to great lengths to ensure that every encounter feels like a mere coincidence. she likely thinks of them as such. there’s a certain naivete in her logic and understanding, a quality i find utterly disarming. it will certainly make things easier for me to ████ ██.
all in all, today was successful. i hope the following days will remain equally bountiful.
your hands shook now, jaw hanging slack as you barely stopped yourself from dropping the diary and bolting out of that man’s house. was this supposed to be a joke? if so, then it surely wasn’t funny.
he was a lunatic. Phainon — the one you considered your most beloved and only friend — was insane. he followed after you, tracking you down, as if you weren’t a real person with their own emotions, but a mere animal to hunt, shoot down, and put on display.
you were terrified. no, that was an understatement. you were terror-stricken. everything you took for granted suddenly crumbled over your head, rendering you frozen — but, perhaps, this really was only a joke? some… some kind of a fictional story Phainon decided to make up out of morbid boredom?
with that, you turned another few pages forward, hoping to see a revelation which could ease your anxiety, and finally clear up the misunderstanding. you had to squint your eyes a little, observing as the elegant handwriting suddenly took a sharper turn, erratic and barely able of discerning.
my hands tremble as i write this, the ink already smudging in places. it’s strange — i’ve faced peril more times than i can count — and yet nothing has shaken me quite like what happened today.
i met [name] at the bookstore again. i nearly commited a gravely mistake — i made a remark about her taste in memoirs, something she’s never confessed to me directly. for a moment, i thought i completely messed up everything i worked so hard for. i could see the faintest flicker of suspicion in her eyes, but she said nothing. thank gods for that. i had no excuse prepared, so i suppose i would’ve been doomed.
she invited me to her home to lend me some memoirs. as if the books mattered. of course i accepted — not out of my interest for the literature, but because the offer was simply too enticing to turn down. time with her, and [name]’s own beloved volumes in my hands. a chance like that cannot be missed out on.
i tried not to show it, but my eyes were drawn to her piano (i thought it looked quite proud and imposing). it stood abandoned in the corner, as if she completely forgot about it. i asked if she could play for me. [name] hesitated, but ultimately agreed.
what followed was something beyond music. her fingers moved with such grace, her posture so painfully poised. the room dissipated away. i watched, completely mesmerized. why did she not follow in her late mother’s footsteps? well, perhaps it’s better this way. the world doesn’t deserve her. not like i do.
as she played, i stepped towards her, putting my hands on her shoulders. she jolted up, stopping rapidly — startled, maybe. i should have felt guilty, but i didn’t. [name]’s surprise, her breath catching in her throat — it was alluring, in a way.
and then, i kissed her. not fully — just the brief touch of lips. but it happened. she didn’t pull away. if anything, i thought i felt her coveting for more. i backed out, though. if i haven’t, then i ████ ███████ ██.
[name] is driving me to the edge of reason. she doesn’t even know it, not truly. i am already hers. completely, helplessly hers. how could i not be? when i met her, i realized she was unavoidably special. ████ ██ i am sick with desire. she makes me ████ █████████.
so it wasn’t a jest, then.
you turned to another page.
what i did tonight would, by most standards, be considered shameful — depraved of any morality, even. but i feel no remorse.
ever since i first tasted the warmth of [name]’s kindness, i have found it impossible to resist my longing. could you believe it? she offered to teach me the piano. imagine that — her delicate hands guiding mine, her voice so close i could feel it brush against my cheek. we’ve started to play duets together. to be fair, it’s hard for me to contain myself with her sitting so close, side pressed into mine.
tonight, the ache became unbearable.
i broke into her house while she was asleep, and i observed her for quite some time. i wanted to take something from her — to soothe the torturous ache in my chest when she’s not near. i cut a lock of her hair. it smelled faintly of lavender and something sweeter i couldn’t name. i held it to my lips. it felt like worship.
i searched her study next — not to violate, or anything of the sort. i simply needed more. i settled on a few of her pens and a handkerchief, enthralled by the intricate embroidery. just little things, nothing valuable.
you couldn’t read it anymore. if there was a feeling comparable to being continuously stabbed into the heart, you certainly felt it now. shocked, you dropped the diary to the floor, practically throwing yourself at the innocent-looking box — your shaking hands reached for the wooden casket, prying it open without much finesse.
knowing what you would see at the bottom was more awful than remaining oblivious, and it caused your stomach to churn. exactly as it was written — a piece of your hair, tightly embedded with a ribbon of sorts. then, the pens you lost, along with the handkerchief.
you slowly put it away, careful not to make any sounds. Phainon was taking quite a long time preparing you this bath, or whatever the hell was he doing. running would be the wisest option — but something pushed you to bend down for the diary, and read another entry. you had to get some closure.
as you flipped towards the end of the filled pages, you noticed how messy it was — smudged ink, splatters of… something? on the paper, scratches so hard they ripped through. still, you forced yourself to decipher the following text.
i caved.
the restraint i fought to maintain finally tore. i’ve done something irredeemable, and yet i ████ █. perhaps that makes me ██. but if loving [name] this fiercely is madness, then let me descend into it without apology.
it began with my injury. she came to the infirmary, just as i hoped. the sight of her standing by my bed — so gentle, so beautiful — was almost too much to bear. i asked where she was headed, because obviously, she dolled herself up. i believed she’d say nowhere.
but no. she mentioned a meeting. a friend.
a friend.
████ █████████ ██ █████.
something cracked inside me then. who gave her permission to give her time — my time — to someone else? ████ ███ who was that man, to think he could occupy the thoughts and laughter that should belong to me alone? ████ █████████ ██ █████
i found him. of course i did. people like him are easy to track — even easier to silence.
i don’t remember much — the moment is a blur, as if my mind repressed it from the sheer disgust for that intruder. only the sound remains: a dull, heavy thud as his body hit the ground. after that, there was stillness.
he’s gone now. that’s all that matters. [name] is safe — untouched, unspoiled by others. ████ █████████ ██. she is mine.
i love her with a force i can’t contain. it consumes me. it burns like fire. but if she ever learned the truth — if she knew what i’ve done — i know she would hate me. she would curse my name. that, i cannot allow.
she must never see that side of me. no one must.
i’ll keep my secret buried deeper than that man i laid few meters underneath the ground. ████ █████████ ██ ████. and i will keep smiling when i see her. i will kiss her hands. [name] doesn’t need to know what i’ve done — only that i love her. more than anyone else ever could.
there was more — much more text to go through — an unhinged rant about whatever that maniac’s mind managed to come up with. unfortunately, you didn’t have the strength to read it. your stomach churned mercilessly, bile threatening to gather in your mouth. then, you heard the footsteps.
if not for that terrifying sound, you’d probably curl up on the floor and start wailing. you didn’t even have the time to process anything as you rapidly began to put everything back into the box, desperately attempting to recreate how the objects were laid out.
you began to count the steps. one, two, three, four, five.
he wasn’t in a hurry. you quickly put the casket back, placing the diary along with your books above it, wondering if you did that right — your vision obscured by tears, you fought tooth and nail to hold the waterworks back. if that man saw you crying, then he’d surely guess what you just found out.
six, seven, eight, nine, ten.
you shut the flaps of the box, stepping away to give that bedlam a last glance. you then turned, trepidation squeezing at your hammering heart.
eleven, twelve, thirteen.
as you opened the door, ready to walk out casually as if nothing ever happened, your face bumped straight into Phainon’s chest, causing you to stumble backwards. oh no. no, no, no—!
your eyes rose towards him, and you forced your expression to remain as neutral as possible. no matter for your heavy breaths, or the wet tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. at first, he looked equally surprised as you felt — but then, he smiled. a grin, more teeth than cheer, hardly reaching his blue irises.
"what are you doing here, [name]?" he asked calmly, the completely stoic tone of his voice causing your limbs to freeze.
Phainon’s eyes bore into your form as if he was a starving animal — a panting wolf, barely holding itself back from sinking its marred fangs into the hare’s nape.
you swallowed thickly. "nothing. i-i mean…" you stumbled over your own words, sweat dripping profusely down your temples. "i was just curious about this room, so i—"
"don’t worry, i’m not mad at you." he spoke, taking a step forward. "i’ve already prepared the bath, so why don’t you go and take it?"
against all your reason, you nodded obediently, trying your hardest to force your legs to move forwards. the man’s gaze refused to leave you as you dragged your feet over. then, a brief realization passed through your exhausted brain:
he’s not a poor dog, like i thought — he’s a full-fledged pack of rabid hounds, stuffed into a singular being.
you could only pray your sprint was fast enough.
#phainon x reader#written due to a request!#that counting crows nursery rhyme is a depiction of reader’s fate if she didn’t decide to flee#but hey we have an open ending#so she might have as well stayed#up to everyone’s own interpretation!!#anyway writing this was defo a challenge#also i imagine that song reader played for phainon was#satie’s gymnopedie no.1#and uhhh yeah phainon’s so creepy in this bruh i even scared myself a little when writing this😭#hsr x reader#hsr#honkai star rail#phainon#phainon x y/n#phainon x you#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere phainon
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isabeau's confession at the end of ISAT is constantly living rent-free in my head it's so fucking good. right now i'm obsessed with the way he responds to siffrin saying "i love you too" because just. imagine you're siffrin and for so long now you've believed that you were horrible disgusting manipulative unloved and unworthy of love and yet. your best friend is telling you he loves you. and you feel that you love him too (in what way? the same way that he loves you? you're not quite sure yet, but stars, you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest, he means so much to you) so you tell him so.
and he responds by telling you he already knew that because he has eyes.
you're siffrin and you are kind passionate protective and so loved and full of love for your friends, your family, and yet you hate yourself so, so deeply that you don't see any of that but isabeau does. according to him it's written all over your face, apparently--the face you're always trying so hard to hide with your hat, which as the universe would have it, you don't have anymore!! and he sees you and he loves you and he knows you love him back, even after you said and did such horrible, cruel things to him and the rest of your family that you know they didn't deserve, after you almost broke the world trying to keep them by your side, somehow isa understands you and still loves every single part of you. and you love him, you love him, you love him because how could you not?
especially since he also got so excited when you told him you loved him that he shouted "CRAB YEAH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" in your face.
#star.txt#in stars and time#isat#siffrin#isabeau#isafrin#<- i mean it doesn't HAVE to be but i do ship them. so.#i actually love that their relationship was left more up to interpretation with siffrin saying they need time to figure things out though#i think it would've felt wrong if they jumped into a romantic relationship immediately after All Of That#esp since as someone who's only played through the game once sif did come off as demiromantic/gray-aro/something along those lines to me#so imo a lot of his dialogue makes me think he already has romantic feelings for isa but it'll take him a bit to come to terms with that#and even that's just my own take. leaving it so open ended means if you want you can decide they DON'T love him romantically#and that's okay because their love for him as a friend is just as important and just as beautiful!#THIS IS NOT THE POINT OF THE POST THOUGH the point is that isabeau loves siffrin so much it makes me insane#their dynamic is so special to me... oh to be loved by someone as fully and unconditionally as sif is loved by isa...#and also isabeau is just so so so damn funny i'm never gonna get over the CRAB YEAH!!!!! thing#this has been in my drafts for a few days but i wrote most of it not even two (2) days after finishing the game. just btw.#ISAT may have done something to my brain chemistry#isat spoilers
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Out of sight, out of - wait.
[First] Prev <–-> Next
#poorly drawn mdzs#mdzs#wei wuxian#granny wen#a-yuan#It's always fascinating how colours translate from the page to the screen.#It would probably surprise a lot of people to see what some of these comics actually look like in physical form.#My lighter colours takes about 3-4 washes before it shows up on scan which means it tends to ripple the page.#And my yellows and oranges are drastically different colours when scanned compared to the ink colour.#There's about 20 or so comics where everyone's hair is purple - because it scanned in the exact same colour as my light grey.#Wait my book is right here in front of me so I can...yeah...Comics 57-77 were indeed purple.#This is all to say - is it not fascinating how what we see is often not the full truth of what the subject truly is?#Is it not fascinating to open another episode that reminds us that despite everyone's claims they could totally spot the evil YLLZ-#-The man walks around among them for months as no more than a man haggling for deals like the rest.#It's almost as if he's just a person. It's almost as if none of us - no matter what we do are really anything more than just a person.#Your good acts will be overtaken by how other's interpret you in negative light.#Just as easily are people willing to forgive crueler actions if they hold you in high esteem.#But what's real? Is the page I hold the real version of this comic? Is it the one you look at?#Is the man known as Wuxian the most himself when he is alone or on the battlefield?#Perhaps he is and has always been a scared orphan boy lost in the market.#I think there is no good answer to any of these questions.#But I do know that panic rising in WWX as he frantically looks for A-yuan was for more than one boy.#To be human is to have layers around a delicate center. We only really grow around our wounds from childhood.#In other words; Donkey from Shrek would also probably call Wei Wuxian an onion. I'll see myself out now.
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something I feel like isn't nearly appreciated enough about mob's arc in mp100 is that his background is... Completely normal. I see a lot of people interpreting mob's parents as neglectful or distant based on the few scenes we've seen of them, which greatly baffles me because their few scenes aim to establish his family life as.. completely normative. They have the normal, average quips of a normal family. And I think it's very unique and refreshing because it means mob's troubles and internal hardship isn't a product of his upbringing, it's a byproduct of a traumatic experience and of his own personality and how it coalesces with his psychic powers. And I personally think more media should acknowledge that some people, even with perfectly normative and healthy familial dynamics and circumstances, will still develop very complex internal issues and personal psychology. and on the same note, some people with perfectly normal upbringing won't feel comfortable to confide in their parents and seek an external authority figure to look up to, which doesn't necessarily mean them and their parents are estranged. I dont think mob's (or ritsu's) life have to be unhappy to legitimize or explain the fact he has the personal struggles he does. Embracing normalcy is the main theme of this series.
#vi rambling#mp100#messy post but i just managed to articulate this after pondering it for a while...#among the many issues i have with fan interpretations of mp100 tbh. like.#sometimes. people are unhappy or going through personal battles. because of completely personal reasons.#and i find it so weird that people act like reigen is mob's main adult figure in his life because his parents are neglectful.#reigen very much Is the central adult figure in his life I'll be the first to write a thesis about their beautiful dynamic but it doesnt#necessitate his parents to suck.#personally i think mobs parents know about reigen. and that reigen is responsible enough to not hire a child without his parents permission#bevause come on. he wont be taking risks. it's reigen#but reigen getting misinterpreted in the fanbase is a whole other pandoras box im not opening rn.#mob psycho 100#mp100 shigeo#<- just some tags for good measure#vi.analysis
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What if Cloud unconsciously mimicked Avalanche?
#FF7#FF7R#Cloud Strife#Aerith Gainsborough#Tifa Lockhart#Nanaki#Red XIII#Yuffie Kisaragi#Barret Wallace#Cait Sith#Vincent Valentine#Cid Highwind#FF7 Rebirth#Jooj Arts#Whether he does it cause of Jenova cells or he's just like that is open to interpretation#I imagine the crew would find it both endearing and a lil unsettling#This took me SO long so I hope you like it!!!#AVALANCHE
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intricate decepticon rituals (tattooing your boss)
inspired by this ask
also the lines because i liked them and some closeups <3


#velwy.png#my art#transformers#macaddam#soundwave#megatron#suggestive#kinda???#I MEAN#CONTEXT IS HES GIVIN MEGS A TRAMP STAMP SO.#also its really homoerotic.#if u wanna interpret it as megasound go for it idc#its open ended <3
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Gesture

One of my favorite things to draw is Dream doing extensive and unnecessary brain math just to ask for one little thing 🥺🥺🥺
Then @kittynannygaming went and made a gif of it!!!! look at him!!!!!
aaaa! he got there eventually 🥲
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masterpost
#dream lurking like the lurker he is#Dreams issues were either preventing him from saying the word scritches#or he couldn't actually remember it and was too proud to admit it X3#or both#It's open to interpretation#the point is#he's an idiot#he couldnt verbalize it#so he copied hob's little scritches gesture X3#dreamling#horse girl au#gif by kittynannygaming#AMAZING!!!#INCREDIBLE#btws hob is so thrilled in that last image#but hes trying to be CHILL#centaurs#centaur
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forgot what you wanted to say? happens to me all the time
#my art#digital art#sth#sonic the hedgehog#blaze the cat#sonaze#well i mean kind of sonaze#tbh it was more so supposed to be#aroace sonic#but open to interpretation idc
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the modern villainisation of demeter will never cease to enrage me bc it wasn’t ENOUGH to just take a story of a girl being torn from her home from everyone who loved her and dragged away to be forced into marriage and twist and corrupt it until it was a romance story about female empowerment that wasn’t ENOUGH they HAD to take the original hero of the story the mother who went to every length to find her daughter again to bring her home and demonise her character until she was this horrific overbearing unloving mother. overprotective controlling without love. they turn the story of her grief at her YOUNG daughter being torn from her without her knowledge into the story of a misunderstood bad boy and a horrible cruel mother who won’t give him a chance and i really find it sickening. it’s ironic, that the ever misogynist age of hellenistic greece, has a better grasp of how disgusting and horrifying this situation was that a modern, self proclaimed ‘feminist’ era.
#ovids version made me cry#imagine you’re just a nymph watching your friend torn away from you by the literal king of the dead#and despite knowing how powerless you are against him you still choose to stand up to him#to stand up for your friend#imagine being so torn apart by the grief of losing her you weep yourself to death#imagine turning that story into a good girl/bad boy romance#weird#anyway#the story of persephone is personal to me#bc i wish my mother loved me like that#demeter was a good mother#you all suck for portraying her as anything less#idc if you disagree#‘oh myth is open to interpretation and reinterpretation’#okay. well i don’t care.#there’s such thing as bad interpretations#making demeter the villain is a bad one#making hades a misunderstood protagonist is also a bad one
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can't express accurately how happy it makes me that c.s. lewis did not leave room for many interpretations in narnia. it's christian and you can't get around it. susan chose to care more about worldly things than what matters and he said what he said. the lion is Jesus. evil is evil and good is good and people have to choose. and that makes some readers angry because it's nearly impossible to ignore and they want to ignore it. they want it to be something else and they can't make it something else without making it not narnia. love that. that is doing it right
#that's. how. it. should. be#if there's room for interpretation in your writing as a christian you are doing it wrong#if people read your work and get to pick and choose what it means and you left it OPEN to interpretation-#-and they can divorce your fantasy world from the truth? you are doing it wrong#looking at you john ronald reuel#readers you're upset because susan cares more about “nylons and lipstick” than Aslan? 1. that's not really what lewis said#2. you should be upset because she made the wrong decision#and if you're upset because you can't get around the christianity in narnia let me share something with you - that's the point#it's a christian series#it's telling you christian things. this is not lord of the rings. this is not Cool Fantasy World open to interpretation#you can't worship the fantasy world and ignore the christian truths#you can't separate the two. that's what it should be#that's what all christian writing should be#if you write something amazing and centuries later people host parades for your fictional world and there's no God in it? no truth?#wrong. you did it wrong. they should not be able to separate the two - unless the point of your writing was to write a cool story#congratulations you wrote a cool story. but did it point people to the truth? unavoidably? no? then what a waste of freaking time#what a waste of a beautiful God-given talent#okay I got off on a tangent#my point is: be upset because Narnia is Christian and you can't get around that with ease#I am so. glad. you can't get around that with ease#this is why Lewis is my favorite author in the root of me#he did it right. this is what we as christian authors should aspire to#not LOTR. Narnia. NARNIA.#christianity#narnia#the chronicles of narnia#thoughts in the tags#doverstar's thoughts#writing#authors
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YE6's butterfly effect. AKA: how did vein "die"?
I'm trying to puzzle out the butterfly effect in YE6, and here is my interpretation so far. if this theory is correct, it would also answer the question of who has the faking death ability and what exactly was liu xiao doing during the whole arc.
of course, feel free to correct me if I got this wrong. I could be missing some key information. I'm just writing this in an attempt to figure it out myself. also, this is gonna be a long post, sorry.
a lot of people are speculating that lu guang directly killed vein somehow through an ability, but I don't think that's what actually happened (although I wish that was the case). I also don't think the situation is as simple as "lu guang wanted vein dead" because I also think that liu xiao is interfering with the same events. there are two puppeteers in YE6, imho.
let's start with lu guang. for one thing, we know he can't directly kill vein with any of the abilities he has, since both scanning 12 hours of photo history and diving into the past require, well, a photo, which lu guang did not have. yingdu even stressed the rules of how both abilities work. if lu guang directly killed vein through ability use, this would imply he has another ability up his sleeve, and I really don't think we've been given enough evidence that points to that. if he always had this ability, why hasn't he used it before on vein in other timelines?
remember that yingdu has a lot of visual metaphors in its storytelling compared to other seasons. I believe lu guang caused the chain of events to happen in such a way that vein would die, but he was not the one to kill him, and that's why there's the animation of him orchestrating vein's death through wang qing, like a ventriloquist would control a puppet. in fact, I would go even further: lu guang and wang qing never got the chance to kill vein, although lu guang certainly thinks he did. we will circle back to this under the cut later, once we've built up the evidence to reach this conclusion.
another thing is the info we learned from an interview with director li. it is unfortunate, imo, that we had to learn this through an interview and not from the show itself (I feel this is yingdu's biggest writing flaw), but whatever. here are the key points to know though:
vein doesn't have an ability during yingdu arc
liu xiao has more than one ability (we know one of them already, which is interestingly enough, heartbeat related)
(not from the interview, but hinted in the show) someone has a "faking death" ability
before we go into the butterfly effect and how vein died, let's go over the details of his death:
from the autopsy report: vein's cause of death is myocardial infarction. aka a heart attack
xia fei later says there were no external injuries and no signs of poison
also, tiny detail, but vein was holding something like a tranquilizer gun in the clinic. the "bullets" he fired on both wang qing and cheng xiaoshi were meant to put them to sleep, not to kill them.
finally, let's lay out some character motivations. this will be important later.
liu xiao wants to get the notebook that belonged to cheng weimin. vein is working with him on this.
lu guang wants to avoid cheng xiaoshi's death node, and he plans to do it by killing vein
now, for the analysis. how did vein "die"?
let's establish something first. since xia fei doesn't know what happened to vein and is looking for the true culprit, we can rule out his involvement. he probably doesn't have the faking death ability, since it was used on vein. and vein doesn't have an ability. so the most likely person to have this ability would be liu xiao. he is also most likely the one to open the body bag with vein in it.
so we can now assume that liu xiao has two abilities:
he can sense someone's emotions and intentions through hearing their heartbeats
he can "fake death" (it is unclear how this works)
well. what an interesting combination! let's put a pin on that for now. remember this for later.
okay. now. let's switch over to lu guang. the big important question here is this: how did lu guang know that delaying vein from entering the clinic would lead to his death through a butterfly effect?
for full context, let's look at what lu guang says in his conversation with vein (I'm using ani-mi's translation, but I watched the bilibili one first and there aren't any drastic changes imo):
do you know the butterfly effect? in a dynamic system, event the smallest changes in initial conditions can lead to vastly different outcomes. I've been wondering, how do you alter a destined ending? what would happen if, before the conclusion, we added another fixed point? another unchangeable node? instead of avoiding deviations, why not let it deviate completely? I know I can't stop you. but I can make you stay a bit longer. now, you can go in.
two things here. first, the mention of an unchangeable node. aka a death node. lu guang for sure wanted vein to die. because if vein dies first, he can't kill cheng xiaoshi. simple logic; great plan.
next, from this speech, we can infer that lu guang planned to create a small change (a butterfly effect) that will lead to a big consequence (vein's death).
it's the second part that should clue us in. he said, "I can make you stay a bit longer. now, you can go in." he knows he can't stop vein from entering the clinic. but he can stall him. he can add a small bit of delay, long enough that it actually matters that vein went into the clinic later than usual.
lu guang knows the effect he wants (vein's death) so how does he know what event (stalling him) would cause the domino effect that leads to it? why does that small delay matter?
let's look at what that extra bit of time actually changed. by delaying vein, another important event happens: cheng xiaoshi has extra time with wang qing, long enough for him to meet his mom, shao yuanyuan. cheng xiaoshi then learns that shao yuanyuan is trying to save cheng weimin. he promises to wait for them and to stop investigating. it is after he makes this promise that vein enters.
we can now infer one more thing here: cheng xiaoshi did not meet his mom through wang qing in the original order of events. this event only happens because lu guang stalled vein.
most likely, in the original order of events, vein incapacitated wang qing too early for her to do anything to him. we don't know what her ability is, but it doesn't matter for this post. all we need to know is that lu guang believes wang qing could kill vein if she was never put to sleep. that is the point of stalling vein from entering the clinic early.
so here's part one of my theory. from lu guang's perspective, this is the plan to kill vein:
stall vein from entering the clinic
because vein entered late, wang qing was possessed by someone with better fighting abilities, allowing her to hold out during the fight
she is then freed from possession, and is still awake when vein tries to leave with the notebook
I don't think we have enough information to really explain what happens next, but what's supposed to happen, imo, is that wang qing kills vein, either through her own ability or someone else uses her to do it. it doesn't really matter how, but this is what is supposed to happen. this is what lu guang wanted to happen. for the sake of this post, we will assume wang qing has an ability to kill vein
vein dies, therefore he can't go to the time photo studio in the future to kill cheng xiaoshi
that's lu guang's butterfly effect. stall vein -> vein dies -> cheng xiaoshi lives.
simple? not quite. I did mention there's another person interfering with these events.
everything I mentioned above is from lu guang's perspective, and that this is what's supposed to happen. but let's look at the actual order of events.
wang qing wakes up (is freed from possession), notices the notebook on vein, and calls his name (interesting point: she knows his full chinese name). at this point, her eyes have NOT changed color yet.
vein gets a heart attack
only after that does wang qing's eyes change color
we know that changing eye colors is not diegetic, meaning this is more for the audience's benefit. their eyes don't really change color in-universe. sometimes they don't even show us eye colors changing. but when they do show us, we have to pay attention.
therefore, I believe that the timing of the shift in eye color matters.
so here's part two of my theory. liu xiao knew lu guang is going to interfere, so he already arranged a "fake death" for vein in advance (which he doesn't tell vein about lmao, but he seems to have figured it out when he gets the heart attack)
this is how, I believe, yingdu happened from liu xiao's perspective:
he wants cheng weimin's notebook. wang qing has it, but would never give it to him. but she might for cheng weimin's son
he baits cheng xiaoshi into going to bridon
he heard lu guang's heartbeat in the airport, which tipped him off that he's someone he should watch out for
he confirmed that cheng xiaoshi and lu guang are investigating cheng weimin
he assigns xia fei to keep an eye on their progress
he planned to use cheng xiaoshi to bait wang qing into giving up information about the notebook. this is why when xia fei told him that cheng xiaoshi was about to meet her, liu xiao reacts like this is the expected outcome
he assigns vein to get the notebook because wang qing is about to reveal the location. but he also knows that lu guang is kinda shady, so when lu guang stalls vein (and tells him! bro don't tell your plans to your victims! don't tell him you're trying to make a butterfly effect!), liu xiao either just knew this would happen or vein tipped him off before going in
now, notice that vein gets a heart attack before wang qing uses an ability (or is used, whatever) to kill vein. and what have we established before at the beginning of this post? liu xiao has a heartbeat related ability and can fake a death. we don't know the mechanics of the second ability, but we know that compatible abilities can combo with each other. it's not far-fetched to think that liu xiao can fake death with a heart attack
later, we see vein wake up after someone (most likely liu xiao) opens his body bag
so now who's fooled? the police arrives and even does an autopsy. they declare vein dead. lu guang is relieved, and for years he believes this. vein doesn't even visit the studio in 2021 (though li tianchen does, through liu min, but that's neither here nor there). he avoided a death node by creating another one. we can let him believe this lie for a little while...
TL;DR lu guang created a butterfly effect by stalling vein, and that creates a domino effect that should have led to vein's death. except he's not the only one interfering with the timeline. while this is happening, liu xiao orchestrates a fake death for vein before his supposed death actually happens, allowing him to act dead during the autopsy and "revive" later
EDIT: this post was written before the interview translation came out, though I don't think this it contradicts anything here; if anything, this post is in line with the interview.
if you're interested, additional thoughts on vein's death can be found in the following links:
reblog of this post: the fake death ability might be wang qing's, or an effect of a combination of wang qing and liu xiao's ability. I posit in this post that I think liu xiao has the ability; in hindsight, it probably relates to wang qing, though I still think that the "heart attack" is related to liu xiao
thematic analysis (as opposed to plot analysis) on vein's death. I am a huge believer that link click is best analyzed through themes than plot tbh
additional thoughts on lu guang's characterization throughout all of this
#mine musings#link click#link click spoilers#liveblogging link click#i have so many other things to do and THIS is what i spend my time on. link click's chokehold on me man........#i still have two other meta posts to write but this one comes first because RAAAAHHH i live for lg and lx puppeteering foils#anyway. again i could be wrong so feel free to correct me etc etc#i am open for other interpretations#link click meta
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