yvnaology - Tumblr blog

yvnaology · 2 days

Text

˖ ݁ . ࿓ DROWNED IN REALITY’S GAZE ( AVENTURINE. )

🎬 premise. in his reflection, he saw eyes harboring secrets, and lines mapping tales of triumph and struggle. in our reflection, he saw shared laughter, whispered promises, and the unspoken language of devotion. in his reflection, he saw a man of solitude with stoic resolve, a man that has truly — lost everything. [ late bday gift for @aventurne :D ]

In a pool of water, Aventurine stared into the depths of the substance — watching as he combed back his unruly blonde hair. His eyes loomed over as he witnessed another “him” in the azure liquid performing the same action.

Despite others' inability to perceive a difference between the two, stating that it's merely a copy of himself lingering in the waters, he disagrees with that statement wholeheartedly. Even when decorated with the finest fabrics and leather shoes, his eyes narrow at the sight of himself, scoffing before walking in the opposite direction. A mockery of the person he’d become is what puddles of water resembled to him. A harsh reminder, a cold greeting, the feeling is worse than chains binding him to the ground — worse than hands creeping onto his skin only to scar it.

A lost man in rags, dirtied hair filled with sin. It is a lost man in expensive clothing, drowned in gold, with his hair combed and high-quality items adorning his person, yet he is still filled with sin. Keeping one hand behind his back, he could feel it trembling as he grasped it. The twitching of his fingers would forever remain a hallucination, the hesitation to move them anymore clouding his brain before he stopped clutching it into a fist. He released the tension from his joints — allowing his hand to rest on his side.

That same hand rested in yours, a choice between left and right — yet you chose the one that almost flinched on instinct with every contact. “Is something wrong?” you would inquire in a mellow tone, caution evident in your voice. Every syllable was full of vigilance, a gentle rub of the back of his palm.

“Of course not, what made you think otherwise?” he’d do a dramatic wave of his hand, stare at you with a cunning grin full of falsity — intertwine your fingers as a sign of assurance, and hope you believe him. He’s okay, he’s fine — the hole that swallowed him spit him out a long time ago, he’s free.

(Don’t let it shake, don’t flinch, don’t allow anything that could indicate that you’re not fine.)

“Are you.. certain?” your gaze was one he would fail to understand, what could he have possibly done to earn it? He was scarred, buried under sand, lacking the certainty you craved desperately. Your hand reached out to cup his cheek, watching as his eyes slowly shut.

An alleviated smile graced his lips, not even you could discern what his inner voice was muttering — was it tormenting him? Screaming to allow him a moment of having a loose tongue, even? “I’m certain.”

(You’re such a liar.)

You felt him lean his head downwards until his cheek was fully against your palm. The skin was slightly rough, for your knowledge that the not-so-presumptuous man’s external battles allowed you to swipe your thumb across his cheek.

I wonder what’s going on in that head of yours, Kakavasha. You sighed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his nose. Will you ever allow me to peek into your bridled mind?

Adjusting his clothing during early mornings was one of your favorite activities, lighting and brushing the fabric to ensure the lack of wrinkles — making sure the collar of his shirt was neatly folded, all while sneakily snatching his hat and placing it onto your head.

“How do I look?” you’d stand proud, gripping the edges of the hat until you found a comfortable position.

“Wonderful, you likely outclass me wearing it.. not something I’d ever willfully admit.”

The chuckle that escaped your lips wasn’t too mellow or too boisterous, containing the sweetness of your voice that he sought after every morning. “That so?”

A gentle kiss to his cheek, a reminder that your presence was the soothing medicine he never thought he’d acquire. You gently grabbed hold of his hands, bringing him towards you until the mirror captured both your positions. Your very essence would never be able to be captured, not even by your other “self” shown in the glass.

The longer his gaze lingered on the surface, the more his mind felt as if it would shut down. His emotions were a complexity not even you could solve, your love was the greatest treasure he’d ever found — but was it enough to relieve the ache in his chest at the sight of the other “him”?

Perhaps if he held onto you tighter, that ache would magically fade. It was a gamble, one he was all too familiar with — his hold on you tightened, only slightly. Are you afraid to let go?

(No, that can’t possibly be it.)

You took it as a mere loving gesture, unaware of how he swallowed his words at that moment to make sure he could breathe properly.

(Breathe, everything’s fine — it will all work out in your favor.)

Everything did not work out in his favor.

The next time he saw his reflection in the mirror, it was shattered — pieces of glass fell and landed on the wooden tiles. A representation of the shape of his soul, battered and bruised, shattered and unable to be repaired even with all of the pieces. A few would eventually get lost in due time, the smallest shards would be required to complete the entire puzzle.

He clutched you tightly to his heaving chest, crimson stains on his gloves and clothing. Gaiathra, did I truly deserve this? Is this the “luck” you’ll continue to serve me?

(You deserve every last drop of their blood.)

There was a feeling of freedom in his hands, as restraints were ripped into quarters and he was robbed of his breath. A knot formed in his throat, until a weak sob escaped from it. There was nothing he could do to stop the tears from flowing from his eyes, as they no longer glowed brightly - blocking the sights of the sun, the broken mirror, and your lifeless body, as well as himself. The wretchedest of all beings, the supposed luckiest soul in the universe, the one who loathed to see his other self, was the most miserable of all beings.

"I failed you," he declared with a firmness that almost stopped his heart from beating. It was habits such as biting his lips until they bled, habits that he had promised himself he would not allow himself to revert to in the future. “I lost.”

The next time he walked through the streets of Penacony, he found himself looking at a lonesome puddle - where his reflection was once again, mocking him for what he had lost, for what he had become, for what he could've had. He knew that his other self would follow him wherever he went, a curse in disguise that would follow him until the day he drew his last breath.

#ꪆৎ ( past performances! )

226 notes · View notes

yvnaology · 3 days

Note

BOO

hello mutual 👀

i didn’t even see this before i sent u an ask HELPPP OUR MINDS 🤯 hello (again) to u too !

#: ⋆ ࣪. 📨 ( mutual incoming! )

2 notes · View notes

yvnaology · 5 days

Text

and.. c5 keqing. i hate her.

#𓏲 ( chat with yona! 🎭 )

3 notes · View notes

yvnaology · 9 days

Text

💌 from : the opera epiclese.

synopsis. a taste of defeat, with her people only staring at her through eyes of pity instead of the awe she was accustomed to — humiliation was the first, guilt the last. how she wished her heart would repair itself, craving a sense of belonging that she no longer had. oh how the maiden couldn’t see, how your eyes twinkled with devotion.

to: @rainswept @ryuryuryuyurboat @boykissr @meidnightrain ( taglist ↲ click link to sign up! )

𝐢𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬

─── wc. 1.2k cw. contains spoilers from fontaine’s archon quests, angsty, furina’s in denial ( reader is in love w her fr!! ) + reader is big gift giver & she secretly adores it <3

pity, a gaze so humiliating and humbling from the people who once saw her as an archon, as a god who could save them from destruction. her heterochromatic eyes watched on as a river was about to swallow her people whole. what could she have done? sing and dance the waves away? pray to someone with more competence to save them?

oh how her heart broke, only the feeling of being hopeless could hurt this much. their screams haunted her in her dreams, struck her brain, and clouded her soul — it felt like a storm, one that was never-ending. their pleading for their lord and savior, for her grace to come down from the heavens and reveal her true strength that never existed. walls built on falsities, she sat on her throne and wailed. may the hydro archon be punished for her sins, and may furina be punished for her ignorance.

the people no longer looked to her for assistance, and all she could do was mope as she hesitated to put her utensil of macaroni in her mouth. often, she’d see people stand in front of her home — finding her utterly miserable. their gazes of disappointment and resentment caused her hands to tremble, but why couldn’t she tear her gaze from the one thing that felt like a stab to the chest?

she saw how their lips moved, words of mockery and malice tainted the oxygen she breathed — a bite of her bottom lip and her woes only increased in number.

what was she good for? if not to stand on the stage and twirl — to sway and to let a soothing melody escape her lips? what could she have done differently? she often pondered this question, yet came up empty-handed as the thoughts became self-deprecating and confused.

your gaze was different from the rest, there wasn’t an ounce of shame. even as you eyed her new living space, your expression only contained lingering jitters. was that fontinalia mousse in your hands?

a knock on her door, and she contemplated whether to open it. uncertainty had led to the worst-case scenarios, hesitance in her very steps of the staircase as her hand twisted the doorknob.

“yes?” she hates how small she sounded, noticing your hands grasped the plate of the well-known delicacy tighter.

crystalline coloration would not be ashamed if compared to the light scattering off the rippling waves. its featherweight elegance is like that of falling petals, its airy texture like a snowflake melting in your throat. her breath hitched as you extended the plate to her, eyes focused on how careful you were with the porcelain plate.

“this is for you, lady— i mean.. miss furina,” you spoke in a softer tone than hers, unwavering even in a situation that would deem you a suck-up. even with the people behind you letting out giggles and bad-mouthing you for presenting a gift to the woman who, in their eyes, deserves not even an ounce of kindness for her sins — your gaze was solely on her face.

she felt horrible. unwilling to put you in a position that could tarnish a reputation, whether it be one that hadn’t even started or not. she had to end the interaction and hope you had some excuse as to why you appeared to be getting chummy with her of all people.

it appeared that the kindness of your heart was too grand, as even after that short interaction — you visited her during the holidays with baskets of gifts. the people of fontaine loved to gossip, and your current relationship with the former hydro archon was making waves, the bad kind. how her heart trembled from the praise you’d give her, her eyes stinging with every gift you presented to her — and your eyes were full of admiration that she was unable to fathom. “thank you for this, again. but..”

it was valentine’s day, being the person that you are — you presented her with heart-shaped chocolates and a bouquet of rainbow roses, wearing a shy smile on your face. it felt as if she was still on a stage, praised for all her performances that attracted the attention of all — her ever-growing status as an actress caused an abundance of bouquets to appear at her feet, letters expressing her talent, look on with reverence that turned into amusement.

the people often wondered why she hadn’t left, her purpose to them was unknown — neuvillette had “taken her place”. she was no longer needed, for she was merely a liar, a deceiver, a traitor. those who didn’t buy the tale of the hydro archon saw you as a blubbering fool, someone who has no self-respect. how did your heart yearn for her, even as her mental wellness depleted for centuries — a drowning heart crying for help, to be kept safe and to be protected? was she pleading so obvious? her heart skipped several beats at every visit, was it truly hope for your interactions with her to conclude?

“but, why is it that you continue to appear at my doorstep with these lavish gifts..?”

“why? is a reason really necessary?”

“i just can’t fathom why you’d do this for me of all people.”

a love in denial, for the fall from grace, has created doubt in the people — doubt in herself. a feeling of being unwanted, unneeded pierces her brain, makes her heartache, as her eyes fill with what she hadn’t let fall in so long, a built-in river of despair, her tears are like diamonds. rare, in the sense that they remain hidden from the world’s view.

she felt so warm in your gaze, unlike the burning heat from the spotlight that craved for her to showcase a bundle of misfortune and misery buried under luxury and fame, you felt safe.

“what do you mean?”

“i’m no longer the hydro archon — i.. i can’t do anything for you. i’m sorry if that’s the reason you continue to do this, but i no longer wish to give you false hope.”

confusion filled your expression before your lips twitched into a familiar smile. she was hesitating, about to close the door on you while holding back tears. she was ashamed, so very ashamed that she let this go on for so long. your company was the only thing she desired, but surely you wanted what she never had in her possession.

how she’d spill apologies for being so pathetic and unable to give you what you desired, despite your many gifts and treasures — small trinkets that you claimed reminded you of her. twin-colored hairpins alike her heterochromatic eyes, and silken clothing that embodied her elegance, as you say. the possibilities for a newly wrapped gift were endless, all bounded by what? desire for something in return?

“i don’t need you to do anything other than give me a chance.”

her eyes widened at the suddenness of your words, you only stood there — silently hoping she wouldn’t shut the door on your aching heart. her hold on the doorknob loosened until the crack in her voice became evidence that you had left her in disbelief. did her ears deceive her? why did her ears burn at the mere mention of giving you a chance, how could she dwell in such notions when she was nothing but a prevaricator?

“..what?”

“the only thing i need you to do is to give me an opportunity to love you.”

#ꪆৎ ( past performances! )

143 notes · View notes

yvnaology · 9 days

Text

♦︎ from : the opera epiclese.

synopsis. the five stages: interest, enlightenment, infatuation, falling in love, and lastly— decision. to say that these five stages aligned with your progressing relationship with the peculiar magician in fontaine was a grave understatement. the heart wants what it wants, and it wanted him. (repost!!)

to: @rainswept @ryuryuryuyurboat @boykissr @meidnightrain ( taglist ↲ click link to sign up! )

♠︎ | title : 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠. wc. 5.4k tw: none.

i. stage one : interest. the first stage can be described as many things: the overture, the beginning, but one does not miss how an inexplicable intrigue takes hold. this is the genesis of a crush.

besides trials, the opera epiclese served as a stage for a variety of performances. according to luzerne, the receptionist, lyney and lynette’s magic show was one of the more popular acts in the opera house.

upon entry after hesitantly purchasing a ticket, luzerne’s words replayed in your mind — the keyword ‘popular’ stood out like a thorn in her sentence. even with her dreamy sighs and gaze filled with admiration, there was no doubt that her words were as truthful as her ginger hair.

the raised seating sections of the grand, multi-leveled opera house were filled to the brim — with people wearing starstruck expressions and waiting in anticipation. the people seated next to you were so dazed, despite the goal of the show being to successfully deceive their twinkling eyes.

you felt out of place, unable to believe the charm the twins possessed to have the audience at their beck and call.

the lights in the confined space darkened, and the spotlight was casted upon the two. the assistant was a female whose feline features made her unique and fascinating — carrying a softened voice and dark violet colored eyes that would appear hollow and contain a certain nothingness. but the male.. he was her opposite, her contrasting counterpart, a magician with a mischievous grin and flowery words as his weapon.

at least, you thought so. his eyes were a lighter shade of violet, clear and full of flamboyance. yet, his eyes seemed as if they held more nothingness than his sister’s. he seemed like he had more to hide.

your own irises followed the movement of lyney’s hands as he moved his fingers in an intricate manner to bend a card to his will. swift movements with what were supposed to be made of regular plastic — made objects appear. first it was a simple teacup of porcelain, then a mechanical penguin, followed by a card with the design of a piece of jewelry that belonged to an audience member.

as soon as the other’s heads turned to the stage, lyney had already prepared his next move — holding said jewelry with a cheeky grin. with the snap of his fingers, the object of pristine value had disappeared, returning to the person who once wore it.

lyney unveils a mysterious box, explaining that it is the portal through which he will perform the ultimate teleportation. he invites a random audience member to inspect the box for any hidden compartments or tricks. once satisfied, lyney places the selected card, the vanished handkerchief, and the dove inside the box.

as the audience holds its breath, lyney dramatically opens the box. to everyone's astonishment, the chosen card, the handkerchief, and the dove have all vanished. the lights flicker, and suddenly, lyney appears at the back of the courthouse, holding the vanished items in his hands.

but yours were focused on his expression, the slightest jittering of his hands caught your attention more than the trick did.

as soon as the other’s heads turned to the stage, lyney had already prepared his next trick — holding one of the audience member’s precious jewelry. with the snap of his fingers, the object of pristine value had disappeared, returning to the person who once wore it.

the audience erupts in applause and cheers, marveling at the magical journey they've just experienced. the magician takes a bow, leaving the audience with a sense of wonder and disbelief in the face of the extraordinary — that was a magician’s natural talent. therein lies the beauty of it all.

the performance was magical in its own right, chaotic and mysterious. it held enough stunts to have the people questioning how they were done, with interviewers bursting with questions by the end of it.

you noticed how you accidentally left your umbrella in your seat, rushing to retrieve it — a fear of an umbrella theft taking place in the opera epiclese was not as irrational as some would think.

“is this umbrella yours, by chance?”

his smooth voice and charming smile made you pause. for a second, you felt nerves in your stomach — swallowing any unauthorized thoughts before nodding. “yeah, that’s mine.. must’ve left it in my seat.” you responded quietly, unsure of what to make of the situation.

“you did, but don’t worry — there won’t be any theft here on my watch.” he reassured before placing the umbrella in your hands. the moment he saw your eyebrow raising, he let out a chuckle. “you look a tad bit nervous, that’s why i assumed — unless it’s my presence causing such nerves?”

his grin only widened at his own words.

“no, just fear that i’ll be drenched in the rain and wake up feeling sick the next morning,” you retorted immediately, yet his grin never faltered.

“hehe — of course, of course.. you’ve just been coming to my shows quite often, that specfic seat is always occupied.” his tone was lighthearted and carefree, causing your heart rate to decrease a little.

“i’d say you’re quite intrigued by me, no?”

“by you? no, it’s just your tricks i’m interested in.” the way he put his thumb and index finger under his chin as if contemplating tells you that he didn’t buy your lie.

“your eyes usually don’t wander to where the happenings of my tricks are, they’re constantly on me — it’s not good to lie, you know?” he quipped, and your eyes only averted to the floor which made his smile turn into a smirk.

your embarrassment was evident, but he wouldn’t want you to become uncomfortable in his presence so he backtracks. “don’t worry — i'm not making fun of you or anything of the sort. in fact, i think your interest in me is a form of praise in itself.”

“really? a form of praise..?”

“you focus more on the artist rather than the art.. hm, that itself intrigues me as well.”

his body language gives away that his words are sincere, but given his position in society — a man meant to lie and wait in the pool of falsity, you were uncertain.

he crosses his arms, keeping his posture straight and poised. “i hope to see your seat occupied during my next show, but until then.. i see that you have places to be. i bid you farewell, and hope you have a pleasant day.”

he waved you goodbye, but the moment you stepped outside — you were met with the sight of pastel petals and a green stem in your bag. “how interesting.” you mused.

ii. stage two : enlightenment. with understanding comes development, as the seat in the opera epiclese continues to be cushioned specifically for you — leading to a blooming friendship between you and the magician whose presence fills you with more questions than answers.

“hey, i didn’t see you yesterday.” he pouts, finding his most precious audience member’s seat empty was not the most pleasant sight he could’ve seen — and you were left to deal with the aftermath.

it wasn’t often that you’d have to deal with a pouty magician, but whenever such an occurrence did happen — your eyes were glued onto his expression, watching as it changes depending on your words. “sorry, i was pretty busy and forgot to buy a ticket..”

he stared into your eyes for a few seconds, before his signature grin etched onto his face. “hm.. not to worry, i happen to have a ticket right here.” he turns and directed the softest smile at you, sliding a ticket in your direction; your surprise was evident, and the grip on the teacup’s handle tightened slightly.

“you’re giving it to me?” you decided to question, placing the teacup back onto the table with utmost care. lyney let out a laugh at your disbelief, quirking a brow at how your expression was one of shock.

“of course, who else would i give it to?” he questioned back, leaving you with many possible candidates in your head — but knowing the esteemed magician quite well by now; he’d have several responses at his feet to reassure you otherwise.

far across — a few tables away, you could hear the sounds of giggles and endless chattering. their eyes were set on you two as if you were a prey of gossip. you tensed, lifting the teacup to your awaiting lips to distract yourself from their quips with the taste of tea leaves.

“don’t mind them,” he suddenly suggested, though it sounded more of a command that was merely spoken in a softer tone than anything else. “if they feel the need to gossip, let them. indulging in the past-time of mentioning other people before reflecting on themselves is rather common practice.. unfortunately.”

you could’ve sworn you heard him stifle a yawn mid-sentence.

“are you tired?” your voice revealed your concern, much to his dismay.

“caught me red-handed, just.. please don’t mention this to lynette — she’d scold me a new one.” he pleaded, and the obvious exhaustion made the thought of the gossiping spectators be sent to the back of your mind.

“were you practicing late again?” another question that left him with a guilty conscience.

“well.. it isn’t as if i could practice a trick once and master it immediately.”

“i know.. but you can’t keep skipping days of rest either,” you gently scolded, a wave of concern hitting you at the sight of newly found under-eye bags.

he only lets out a faint sigh, a frown creasing on his face as you gently take his source of consciousness — coffee, and place it on the opposite end of the table.

“and this isn’t a healthy solution.” you continued with a voice carrying a tint of worry.

“go home and sleep, lyney.”

“but.. i still have a performance later.”

“take a nap, replenish your energy — otherwise you’ll be ridiculed for having the appearance of a literal zombie.”

he laid his head on the table, his frown only deepening at the offense he felt from your comment. “but being in the company of such a lovely friend as yourself is already replenishing my energy.”

“how touching, now get up.. please?” now you were the one to plead, but with good reasoning — to your defense.

he contemplated for a few seconds, weighing the pros and cons of listening to your rather commonplace advice. his involuntary pout returned, and you had a feeling he was going to make a deal of sorts. “if you promise to come to my show today, i’ll go home.”

you almost snorted at his persistence to have you in his audience, but you kept your impending giggles to yourself before nodding. “alright, i promise.”

his eyes were rapidly blinking, as if in an attempt to keep himself awake. you were staring longer than a friend ever should, that was for certain. your index finger gently tapped on his nose, causing his eyes to settle onto your face. “go home.” you repeated.

he let out a yawn before rising from his seat, waving you farewell as his steps became quieter until his silhouette was nowhere in sight.

another two stems of rainbow roses made their presence known in your bag, multi-colored petals emphasizing its beauty. your fingers subconsciously twiddled the stems, a giddy smile appearing on your face — the warming of your chest and the prolonged stare at its pinkish color made your mind race. you hoped he enjoyed the small gift you left in his hat.

it wasn’t just you with the feeling of newfound joy in your heart, his eyes lighting up at the sight of a small transparent bag tied with a red bow — its contents making his expression grow soft. cubic jellies, one of the many desserts that he had the habit of bringing to his workplace — and one that you remembered.

iii. stage three : infatuation. sparks begin to fly, fluttery, exciting sensation in the stomach — intense desire, heightened sensitivity… daydreams and fantasies cloud your judgement. to be infatuated means to experience both euphoria and fear. to be infatuated means to seek more than you’re being given.

you dreamed of him that night.

his twinkling amethysts mock you in your daydreams, his charming grin garners your prolonged gaze — and you find yourself attracted to him. the magician was a tease, even when he’s simply crossing his legs and asking for your opinion on his newest trick.

all of your objectivity heads out of the window by that point. all you can think about is how to praise his hard work, even if he reassures you that any kind of criticism is welcome.

shuffling a deck of cards, his eyes dart from the props on the table to your expression — waiting for any reaction. “so, my dearest audience member.. what did you think of that last one? i do think i need more practice before my next performance—”

“it was perfect.”

to say that lyney was surprised at this was an understatement.

your praises never came so quickly, he wasn’t even able to finish his sentence because words of awe and admiration escaped your throat. it was as if you weren’t even thinking before you spoke (which was completely the case). it wasn’t your fault that his handiwork was so compelling, alluring to the eyes as much as his face was. there wasn’t any room to think, only to stare, only to scan his every feature.

“oh? is that so? you don’t need to sugarcoat it so much — i can take it!” his smooth voice carries a hint of teasing, adding to your current stress of having words pop out of your mouth quicker than your mind could comprehend. great, now he thinks you weren’t being genuine.

“i’m being serious, i didn’t see anything wrong with it.” you decided to respond, hoping he took your words seriously and perhaps even complimented you in return.

lyney only looks confused, causing your head to ache out of nervous anticipation.

“thank you for the praise, but trust me... i do need more practice. after all, i ended up forgetting a prop during this practice session..” he concluded with a chuckle.

he did? you hadn’t even noticed. you felt so incredibly stupid. of course, he wasn’t looking for praise — but honest judgment. ‘flowery words in this scenario were not the right call’, you noted.

that was only one of many examples of the disaster that came with infatuation.

idealism was the one-way ticket to a world of hurt, and you wished that you could use your head instead of your eyes — projecting your every desire and fantasy onto him. he was a mystery even after months of friendship. you felt as if you barely knew a thing about the object of your affection — and that alone made your heartache.

in your mind, his every mistake was to be overlooked — he was perfect through your rose-colored glasses. that was what you were sticking with, to make up for the lack of knowledge you had on the magician. he appeared in every dream, filling your mind with rose petals and heart-shaped eyes. that wasn’t reality, you were being sucked into a world of illusion.

that, and his flowery tongue was less than helpful. you often wondered what he was thinking whenever he spoke to you that way. did he mean any of it, or was it all a farce? you truly never knew, and perhaps that was his goal.

it seems that your attempts at being subtle were going south by the minute, teases from your friends about your relationship with him made you groan, and their giggles and quips.. all of it was more conflicting if anything.

“so, you and lyney?” one chirped with eyes sparkling with mischievous intent, gathering the gazes of the rest of the group who had their mouths agape.

you had no choice but to shake your head, feeling your stomach twisting in an unfamiliar manner — all while your friends sat in waiting for an explanation you didn’t even have in hand.

“me and lyney what?” it was the safest dialogue option, creating open room for conversation — yet revealing their true intentions with such a question that they were bound to respond honestly to. it was a mere attraction, something that would pass with time. at least, you desperately hoped it did.

“are you two going out?”

such a question was absurd, even to your ears. you only found him attractive, and you’d make that sentiment clear to prevent any misunderstandings and possible rumors. “no, i just find him attractive... i don’t like him like that though.”

your voice was firm, filled with confidence that you were completely uncertain of. it seemed that they got the hint, as their expressions changed from curiosity to understanding, with slight concern as well — you noticed.

but it seemed that there was one that decided to continue to push, hoping for something to satisfy their desire for the knowledge of your relationship with the magician.

judging stares, nudging shoulders — perhaps they didn’t get the hint after all. “are you sure?” they inquired further, seeming like someone akin to a journalist about to branch out on their next exclusive.

were you sure? your stomach churned at the thought of yourself being uncertain; you had to be, there was no other choice. the grip on your clothing grew tighter, and the moment you turned to face your friend — all you could do was give an affirmative nod. “i’m certain.”

iv. stage four : falling in love. when the feeling settles in at a random moment as if waking up from a nightmare that sends your heart pounding — a realization that has that same effect. what hits you first isn’t joy, it’s panic.

you were not certain.

as you lay in bed that night, you recall your conversation with your friends — and mentally curse yourself for having the slightest doubt that lyney and his enticing demeanor didn’t make your heart warm and race.

his every move was a magic trick, and his audience was your aching heart that yearned for him. you often wondered what it was, what about him excited you so much. what was it that made him appear in your every dream? twiddling your fingers as you sat in your bed, you demanded yourself to believe that what you felt was an illusion.

but it wasn’t, being in his mere presence lifted your mood more than anything or anyone else; then there was the giddy feeling that overwhelmed your senses, the rush of emotions you earned from his every woven word. all of it was replaced with a heavy guilt and fear.

what were you meant to do now?

it wasn’t as if you could confess, your blood ran cold at the mention of spilling your everlasting line of emotional distress because you liked lyney to anyone. it was as if you were chasing an impossible goal, with no path opened to go to next. helplessness felt with every breath you drew. hurt, etched with every doubt in your mind that lyney most likely didn’t return the sentiment.

how could you possibly be hopeful at a time like this?

lyney was a perceptive person, able to read a person’s emotions from their micro-expressions, using their emotional leakage to expose one’s true intentions and feelings through a mere gaze. of course, you were no exception.

lynette, as peculiar as one might find her, had a similar talent of such. which is exactly why you caught her eye in particular. as usual, lyney never failed to mention his day-to-day endeavors to her, much to her (slight) delight. once your name escaped his lips, she was already intrigued. his description, while dramatic, gave her enough curiosity to watch over your conversations with him — her results? she finds them to be more surprising than usual.

at first, her mind drifted to you being simply attracted, not thinking too much in depth about the words you’d use or how your cheeks would redden at even the slightest charming comment. it was rather common for someone’s behavior toward the object of admiration, at least she thought so.

fascination was a usual occurrence, especially for someone as eccentric as lyney. he attracted the attention of those he met, created a suave impression — and kept it up for as long as possible. lynette wasn’t a stranger to such things, she’d seen it happen one too many times to count.

she prefers to use her eyes to understand the situation and find an appropriate solution, usually. though this matter was more complex, the more she used her eyes, the more insight she’d have on your feelings — oftentimes, she’d stay quiet during your conversations with her brother simply to observe your mannerisms around him, and she couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow on more than one occasion.

“hm, these animals seem to enjoy your company more than mine — tis a tragedy.” the magician tuts, gently touching the snow-white fur of one of the bunnies used in his eccentric shows. you were hung on his every word, your finger gently tapping on the bunny’s nose — causing its ears to twitch. “aw, we’ll i’m honored.”

the moment your gaze left the bunny and landed on his eyes, lynette couldn’t help but notice the slightest quirk of the corner of your lips or how your fingers fidgeted — signs of nerves, she recalled.

“my, it seems that they certainly are quite fond of you — presenting you with something of utmost value..” he beamed, looking pleased with himself as you heightened an eyebrow. “notice anything different about our little friend here?”

your pupils dilated once your eyes set on the bunny once more, carrying a rainbow rose in between its teeth — the moment you moved your hand closer, the animal dropped the plant into your palm. your breath hitched, unable to control the sudden rush of euphoria and the sound of your heart pounding against your chest, threatening to burst.

perhaps it was a better idea not to look so awestruck by a stem and petals, clearing your throat as you keep your gaze on the furred animal instead of your friend. “a rainbow rose..?”

“only befitting, if i do say so myself.”

his comment only made you swallow, the urge to bite your lip in embarrassment was strong, yet you resisted — lest you appear as a lovesick fool in his eyes. that was the absolute last thing you wanted.

with a flourish of his arms and lilac embers staring into the very corners of your soul, you found yourself completely lost in the allure of his gaze. “i used a lumidouce bell last time we spoke, remember? it’s only natural that i upgrade your little gift~!”

he wasn’t good for your heart, not in the slightest; and one day, you sincerely hoped he’d see that as well. his smile held a certain kind of elation that you’ve never seen before, enough to make your heart melt into a puddle. lynette could only imagine what you must be thinking, and even she’d begun to ponder how deep your feelings went if her interpretation held any accuracy.

after such an interaction came to a close, with lyney adjusting his hat as you walked away — lynette’s footsteps were barely audible as she appeared next to you. your eyes landed on her blank expression immediately, wondering why she wasn’t heading in the same direction as her twin. “did you need anything?”

“you.. like him, don’t you?”

her question was enough to halt the rapid beating of your heart. whether to be honest or not was completely up to you, yet — hiding in cowardice and dishonesty was not on your agenda, you’d realized that ever since you came to terms with your battling emotions.

“i do.” was all you could answer her, unknowing what to expect from the half-feline — though, a harsh scolding was completely out of the question and out of character for lynette anyway.

lynette only pulled at the hem of her sleeve, and you could only assume she was contemplating on what to say. “i see, i figured as much.. your behavior lined up.”

you were confused as to whether you should feel offended or joyful at her words, knowing that you weren’t the most subtle — but then again, who could deceive lynette’s eyes and ears?

you were about to speak up when lynette cut to the chase and nodded. “are you certain that you do..?”

were you certain? you’ve asked yourself this countless times, having played a sequence of contemplation, contradictory thoughts, guilt, and finally, acceptance all in your head; you were lost and being forced to deal with a desire for even another second simply being next to him, what you wouldn’t give to hear his voice every second of every day. were you absolutely certain that this phase was truly different?

lynette stared at you expectantly, you had no doubt that she saw the hesitance and worry written all over your face — but your answer remained the same, it was what you answered to your friends when you came to the wrong conclusion, but this time was in complete contrast. “i’m certain.”

v. stage five : decision. the decision stage is naturally the hardest, the most important and the most impactful. it’s the phase that sets the stage for you two — one that determines it all with only a few words.

in your eyes, there was a one-sided nervous tension in the air. a confession loomed, weighed down by unspoken words for too long — your world was crackled with vulnerability, a loop of anger directed at yourself, as well as sharp pangs of pain at how heavy your heartfelt because of the condemnation that was love.

at the center of it all was lyney, a burial of your feelings was in order — yet they would resurface every time he said with his smooth voice. it felt almost eerie, how quickly he could make you let out both chuckles or bitterness and joy. apart of you felt so incredibly warm, the feeling that you once thought was fleeting — led on for months. it was impossible to suppress, challenging to hide, and hurtful to keep silent.

your throat begged for the day when you would spill every thought that crossed your mind whenever you saw his face. begged for the opportunity to be able to swoon whenever he combed his unruly hair back with a grin, begged for you to release the tension in your body if only by saying “i love you.”

A delicate dance of revelation and acceptance was what it was, the syllables almost escaped your tongue on too many occasions — and your emotions were beginning to become bothersome to keep in control. your mind splurged with imagery, your hand reaching to touch his gloved ones, and how your heart yearned for his attention.. it was out of bounds to even have these thoughts occur.

guilt, at the concept of pushing your feelings onto another and praying to every archon that they’re reciprocated. to you, that sounded unfair — and unjust. acceptance, that your feelings were true and uncomfortable, yet it was what your disposition felt entitled to have, it’s the path you’re set to follow whether you approve or not. hope that perhaps pouring every mumble and verb onto him would earn you a softened gaze instead of a stare of concern and judgment.

perhaps he’ll say “i love you.” in return instead of “i’m sorry.” — that he would acknowledge you and save you from crumbling sorrow buried under the label of heartache.

would it be able to handle rejection? would you be able to recover from such a thing? how will you face him after? what would you say?

the thought of weight being placed off of you through unspoken truths, destroying that invisible barrier of transparency, revealing authenticity through hardened exteriors — both scared you and elated you.

you’d wonder what it would feel if it was all placed off of your chest for him to carry for you.

your eyes searched his lilac ones, your legs almost touching as he performed another trick for you — a routine you’ve gotten used to (minus your rapidly beating heart). “Magic has a way of revealing the hidden, don’t you think?” lyney mused, his eyes locking onto yours as your gaze averted to his cards — clenching your right hand instinctively.

you could only nod, following along with his deft hands making the cards made out of plastic seem like the most interesting thing in the world. “it’s like unveiling secrets one at a time, it’s.. more than just illusions.”

“you have quite the keen eye, watch carefully now.. blink, and you might miss it,” he warned with a cheeky smile, asking you to choose a card — emphasizing that you hold a special connection to the card you chose.

after shuffling the deck, lyney’s eyes close tightly — before picking a card and handing it back to you. opening one of his eyes as if winking, he only smiled at you before inquiring, “is this your card?”

you stare at the card with a rose symbol embedded into it, recalling that it was the exact card you had picked before. “it is, what now?”

he chuckled, reminding you that patience is a virtue — he placed a hand above the card, his fingers not coming into direct contact with it. after a second, the card began to levitate, much to your awe and confusion.

unfortunately for you, his eyes were as captivating as ever, drawing your attention from his hands. your ever-growing line of questions extends the moment a rose appears from the card, landing on your palm. your eyes widened with amazement, “how did you—”

“i did tell you to watch carefully, didn’t i?” he responded with a smirk forming on his face, causing you to give him an unamused stare.

“come now, don’t give me that look..” he feigned a look of defeat, much to your dismay — though, you had to admit that his expression was oddly adorable.

“i wouldn’t have been able to catch it even if i did watch carefully,” you retorted, keeping your eyes focused on the rose’s petals to check for authenticity — confirming that the rose was more real than your feelings for the magician.

“guess that’s one secret i’m afraid you won’t get to catch.” he hummed, evidently content with his actions while you couldn’t hold back the urge to roll your eyes. your nerves were subtle, and you couldn’t bear to think of lyney’s reaction when he found out what you were planning to say soon.

you took a deep breath, yet his expression was still lighthearted and peaceful — his eyes glimmered with something else.. not the nothingness that remained when you first met, but pure and wholehearted contentment. he didn’t look as if he were hiding, cowering, or even hesitant. his eyes were filled with the determination you wish you owned.

“speaking of secrets, there’s one i’ve been keeping, and tonight — the stage is set to reveal it. would you like to know?” he placed a hand under his chin, crossing his legs as you blinked. “a secret?”

“one i’m surprised you haven’t caught onto yet, yes.” he reaffirmed, his expression softening and his smile growing slightly wider. this was nothing you’ve ever seen from him.

“what is it?” you inquired, your voice barely above a whisper — as if your earlier fears were resurfacing. your fingers tightened around your sleeve, biting your tongue and anticipating his next words with newfound anxiety.

“i love you.”

the rose rested on your lap, a spur of emotions hitting you all at once — you opened your mouth to speak, to say anything, but once again.. lyney rendered you completely speechless.

the props were witnesses to the development that you weren’t expecting, such a gentle voice and three words filled with elation and affection. his eyes were twinkling with redamancy, awaiting the answer that you were certain he would have anticipated.

his hand shifted closer to you, opening it to reveal his gloved palm. “if you’d have me.. i’d like to be more than friends.. how does that sound, my dear companion?”

nothing could capture the nuance that accompanied the present moment, as your throat betrayed you and your voice cracked. “i love you too.” you hadn’t meant to come off as meek, but the beamed look on his face was enough for you to overlook your little setback. it felt as if you’ve made his entire world with one sentence that echoed in the air for at most, two seconds.

“then,” his fingers lingered on yours, tugging slightly until your hand fit in his own. “allow us to create our own authentic performance that lasts.. forever, what say you?”

#ꪆৎ ( past performances! )

358 notes · View notes

yvnaology · 9 days

Text

˖ ݁ . ࿓ DROWNED IN REALITY’S GAZE ( AVENTURINE. )

(Don’t let it shake, don’t flinch, don’t allow anything that could indicate that you’re not fine.)

(You’re such a liar.)

I wonder what’s going on in that head of yours, Kakavasha. You sighed, before pressing a chaste kiss to his nose. Will you ever allow me to peek into your bridled mind?

“How do I look?” you’d stand proud, gripping the edges of the hat until you found a comfortable position.

“Wonderful, you likely outclass me wearing it.. not something I’d ever willfully admit.”

The chuckle that escaped your lips wasn’t too mellow or too boisterous, containing the sweetness of your voice that he sought after every morning. “That so?”

Perhaps if he held onto you tighter, that ache would magically fade. It was a gamble, one he was all too familiar with — his hold on you tightened, only slightly. Are you afraid to let go?

(No, that can’t possibly be it.)

You took it as a mere loving gesture, unaware of how he swallowed his words at that moment to make sure he could breathe properly.

(Breathe, everything’s fine — it will all work out in your favor.)

Everything did not work out in his favor.

He clutched you tightly to his heaving chest, crimson stains on his gloves and clothing. Gaiathra, did I truly deserve this? Is this the “luck” you’ll continue to serve me?

(You deserve every last drop of their blood.)

#ꪆৎ ( past performances! )

226 notes · View notes