#neutrality in conflicts

[cyber-soul-smartz]

Balancing Individuality and Unity in a Polarized World

Discover the art of balancing individuality with communal harmony in our latest article! Learn how to embrace diverse perspectives and foster unity. Don't miss out—subscribe now for more insights on personal growth and inclusive living!

[aventurineswife]

I enjoy seeing your writings pop-up in the character tags. I also especially like how much fun you have with some of the prompts.

I saw requests are open, so I have an interesting request for you. The HSR Universe is ripe for suggestions and weird things, so why not?

I couldn't decide on who to pick for this prompt. So for maybe like 3 HSR characters of your choice, can I ask for a reader that decides to take an experimental drink, thinking nothing of it, but it ends up leaving reader reader with a temporary heart mark on their skin that turns colors based on their emotions? (I.e. A mood ring type of situation?)

“Feelings Are Just Colors in Disguise”

Tags: Sunday x Reader, Mydei x Reader, Anaxa x Reader, Slow-Burn Hints, Emotional Connection, Magical Realism, Light Mystery/Speculative Magic, Emotion-Based Magic, Slight Introspection and Internal Conflict, Light Banter (Especially with Anaxa), Gentle Warmth and Comfort (Mydei and Sunday), Themes Of Identity And Vulnerability.

Warnings: Minor Injury Mentions (No Graphic Violence), Emotional Vulnerability And Exploration Of Complex Feelings, Mild Existential Themes and Philosophical Reflection (Anaxa, Sunday), Brief References To Past Trauma Or Loss (Handled Sensitively), Experimental Magic and Body Markings.

A/N: I'm glad you enjoy them! <33

The battlefield was quiet for once.

You sat near the campfire, a little tent away from the rest of Mydei’s soldiers. Your fingers curled around a strange flask handed to you earlier by one of the alchemists from Okhema. “Experimental drink,” they’d said. “For fortification.” You barely listened—tired, thirsty, and desperate for anything that didn't taste like boiled roots and despair.

The liquid was sweet and strange—like pomegranate but effervescent and tinged with cheese. Oddly comforting.

Within minutes, a sharp warmth bloomed across your collarbone. You looked down and gasped.

A glowing heart-shaped mark pulsed there, tinted gold-orange.

“What in the—?”

“...You’ve been marked,” came a voice behind you, low and steady.

You turned to see Mydei, the Guardian of Amphoreus himself, crouching beside you. His eyes narrowed at the glowing heart. “I’ve seen marks of magic, but not this.” His gaze was calculating but not unkind.

“It changes color,” you muttered, pressing your hand over the glowing skin. “Based on emotion, I think.”

“It’s orange now,” he murmured. “Hopeful. Curious.”

You swallowed. “Is that...good?”

Mydei’s fingers brushed yours away gently. His gauntleted hand hovered near the mark, not touching—but close enough that you felt the heat between you.

“You should rest,” he said. But he lingered. “I’ll stay. To make sure it doesn’t...spread.”

You caught a flicker of red in the heart.

He noticed too. A rare smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Red. You fear me?”

“I—No!” you stammered. “That was—surprise. Not fear.”

“Mm.” He tilted his head, hair catching the firelight. “We’ll see.”

The mark flickered again—a warm, soft pink.

He didn’t tease. He didn’t gloat. Just leaned in closer and whispered, “Then you have nothing to be afraid of.”

“Drink this,” Anaxa said, sliding a shimmering vial your way across the cluttered workshop bench.

You frowned. “Last time you said that, I couldn’t stop quoting dead philosophers in rhyme for three hours.”

“Consider that a success,” he grinned, wild-eyed and amused. “This one’s subtler. Stimulates emotional resonance. I hypothesize it’ll project your internal state to the surface.”

You rolled your eyes—but downed it anyway. It was teal and fizzled like starlight.

And then it happened. A searing sensation just over your heart. You yanked your shirt aside, revealing a vivid heart symbol on your skin—magenta.

“Fascinating!” Anaxa clapped. “Magenta—emotional intensity. Possibly love. Or embarrassment. Maybe a repressed desire to throttle me. Which would be fair.”

You stared, horrified. “It glows!”

He leaned forward, eyes gleaming. “So does truth. Most people just spend their lives hiding from it.”

The heart flickered bright red.

“Ah—anger now. Excellent emotional range. You're practically a living thesis.”

You stood up. “This is humiliating!”

He didn’t stop you—just followed you out into the moonlight, curious.

Silence stretched. You wrapped your arms around yourself, heart glowing violet now.

He studied the color. “Fear and mystery,” he said softly. “But not of me.”

“No,” you admitted, voice small. “Just...of what this means. Of being seen.”

Anaxa was quiet a moment. Then, to your surprise, he took off his glove, revealing a crimson sigil glowing faintly on his palm. “Then let me be seen too,” he said, placing his hand just inches from your heart.

The mark shifted to silver-blue.

Clarity. Vulnerability. A chance.

It happened during the layover at a celestial observatory.

You wandered through the festival bazaar, eyes catching on a Halovian vendor’s glittering elixirs. You asked for something new. Something unique.

They gave you a gentle drink, honey-smooth with lavender undertones. The moment it touched your lips, you felt warmth settle over your chest. Then—the mark appeared.

A faint heart, right above your sternum. At first, it shimmered pale blue.

You found Sunday sitting on the edge of a terrace, eyes watching the cosmos.

When he saw you, his wings fluttered gently. “You’ve changed,” he said, and your breath hitched.

You explained quickly, nervously—about the mark, about the drink.

He studied it silently. Then: “It’s...beautiful.”

You blinked. “It’s revealing.”

“Most beauty is.”

The heart glowed peach, soft and warm. Sunday’s eyes flicked to the color.

“I wonder,” he murmured. “What would I see if I bore such a mark? Guilt? Longing? Maybe...hope.”

You sat beside him. “Try,” you said, lifting his hand and placing it near your heart.

The heart turned a deep gold.

For a moment, Sunday said nothing. But his halo glowed softly, and a breeze stirred his scarf.

“That’s new,” he said. “It means you feel...safe. Around me.”

You looked at him, truly looked—and saw the flicker of conflict behind his serene mask.

“Maybe you could try,” you whispered. “Letting someone in.”

His fingers curled around yours.

And the heart turned white.

Peace. Maybe fleeting—but real.

[playerkingsley]

the throughline of “little lies are ok” and “lying is ok if it helps your friends and family, but you’ve got to tell the truth about lying” and the shared domain of trickery between the main instigator and adversary of the calamity, asmodeus, and the moonweaver, who takes the first steps to define (and weave, if you will) the new relationship between divinity and those left behind on the material plane, all culminating to sehanine then wielding this aspect of illusion and untruths they share and literally slapping her brother back to the pit of the hells? perfection, absolutely no notes

[yoihino]

I'm so excited for the new life series! I know everyone is talking about how Grian is also leaning into the eyes and ears lore, but I do have to wonder what he will bring to it. Because the watchers did not start as malicious mysterious entities. They started as us, the audience, and as anyone who left evo and therefore joined us to watch their friends from afar. And that was Grian's (or the EVO's server) original idea for them. So I wonder if Grian deciding to join in on the lore will mean getting an entirely new perspective about what watchers are and what they want from Grian (a watcher himself), instead of him adding on to the narrative Martyn has already created.

[lesbiancosmicowl]

Sometimes I think Becky would manage her better. I'm sure that's not true. ↳ Carla Connor & Lisa Swain + Carla in defence of Lisa's parenting

[on-a-lucky-tide]

I just saw a zionist post about Palestinian solidarity and "suicidal empathy", comparing the current genocide being committed in Gaza to the Iranian Revolution.

I kid you fucking not.

The implicit reasoning: you shouldn't oppose Israel because if the Palestinians "win" they'll establish Islamic law. And because it was couched in pseudo-intellectual "Tumblr speak" people will take it at face value.

There is a fucking reason countries like South Africa and Ireland are on the side of the Palestinians. They have learned from history.

To be clear, at the start of this conflict, I was neutral. I was absolutely disgusted by 7th October. But I've watched Israelis commit crimes against humanity for months now. And you're going to call my opposition to the genocide "anti-Western sentiment" and "suicidal empathy"? How fucking dare you.

[gotta-bail-my-quails]

just watched episode 13 and oh. oh Luo Li my beloved

(the lion dance hat...the pokemon trainer outfit...)

her cuteness and mech use...being cute while going into the boy-targeted/dominated genre of mecha (which we saw with Da Xiong wanting the two girls to help with his mech)

her desire to enjoy cute things while also not wanting to be perceived just by her cuteness...she's the true icon of "I dress hot/cute/feminine for ME and not the male gaze"

That, and her character being against the idea that a "strong" female character has to shun everything feminine and essentially be a male character the writers made a woman. There isn't anything wrong with a woman who doesn't want anything to do with femininity, but it is wrong to put down those who do enjoy feminine things and to claim or act like a feminine woman/person cannot be considered a "strong" character (whether actually physically strong or strong in terms of character). I'm glad Luo Li wants to embrace cute things, or rather, that she's against the idea of cuteness being incompatible with strength.

she's an interesting facet to the back-to-back examination of female heroes ^^ she's the most explicitly about femininity so I'm interested in how her arc will go...

[aro-culture-is]

Ship neutral/conflicted aro culture culture is shipping lightheartedly and rarely taking it seriously, then getting your shit rocked by ship wars because. What. What do you mean people are actually fighting about it?? What????

.

[fl00mie]

how calmly he's saying this makes me think that he actually had good intentions because he gave ink the opportunity to remedy things

or at least that's a way to see it

[aventurineswife]

Hiiii! Could I request Aventurine, Ratio, and Sunday after forgetting about an important event of the reader’s? Like the reader asked them to come to something with them but they forgot and didn’t show. Thank you so much and have a great rest of your day :>

“I never meant to hurt you, but I did”

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Sunday x Reader, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Conflict, Personal Growth, Regret, Redemption, Miscommunication, Character Reflection, Sincere Apology, Vulnerability, Emotional Vulnerability.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort Themes, Light Angst, Potential for Emotional Misunderstanding, Slight Emotional Intensity (due to regret and apologies), Focus on Interpersonal Conflict/Resolution, Characters may be self-critical or overly remorseful.

The grand hall was dimly lit, a few candles flickering by the entrance, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. You paced in front of the door, glancing at the clock for what felt like the hundredth time. It was an important event, one you’d invited Aventurine to join. It was supposed to be something special—something you hoped he’d remember. Yet, there you stood, waiting. Waiting for him.

A faint smile tugged at your lips, despite the disappointment gnawing at you. Aventurine had never been one to adhere to time, his whimsical approach to life often leading to unpredictable results. Still, you had hoped, even if just for a moment, that he’d put aside his high-stakes dealings to show up for something that mattered to you.

Just as you began to lose hope, the door creaked open, and there he was—Aventurine, his usual confident smile plastered on his face, though it faltered slightly as his eyes caught the frustration in yours. His tousled hair fell across his face, and the telltale glint in his eyes seemed a little dimmer today.

“Ah, my dear,” he said, striding in and closing the door behind him. “I do apologize. You must know that time slips away when one is occupied with matters of great importance.” He tilted his head, his usual charm masking any guilt. “But, I see now that I’ve truly missed something… important, haven’t I?”

You crossed your arms, trying to keep your voice steady, though it quivered just a little. “I asked you to come. This was important to me, Aventurine. I thought you would remember.”

His eyes softened for a moment, his smile fading. He stepped closer, the atmosphere between you charged with an unspoken tension. “I know I’ve… often been a bit scattered when it comes to certain things.” He reached out, gently brushing a lock of hair behind your ear. “But, believe me, my intentions were never to let you down.” His voice dropped to a softer tone. “You mean far more to me than any of my games or gambles.”

You could hear the sincerity in his words, but still, the weight of the situation lingered. Aventurine, for all his charm and strategic brilliance, wasn’t always great at keeping promises.

“Just… next time, remember?” You managed, trying not to let the hurt show too much.

Aventurine’s usual confidence returned, and he gave a small, playful smirk. “I’ll make it up to you. Let’s call it… part of the game, shall we?” He raised a brow, as if daring you to challenge him. “I’ll plan the next big event, and I’ll make sure nothing will pull me away.”

Though you could feel your frustration waning, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just another one of his high-risk gambles—the kind that always seemed to come with consequences. But, for now, you let the moment pass, giving him a faint smile.

“Alright,” you said softly, “but I’m holding you to that.”

Aventurine’s smile returned in full force, as if winning this small victory was all he needed to feel at ease once more. “Deal.”

The soft hum of the bustling lab should have been soothing, yet all you could focus on was the empty seat beside you. You’d prepared everything meticulously—an intimate gathering, just you, Ratio, and a few close friends. It was supposed to be a moment for the two of you to unwind, but he hadn’t shown up.

He was always so focused—always consumed by his intellect and his endless pursuit of knowledge. But today, you needed him to show up. You’d asked him, and he had agreed. Or so you thought.

Your fingers drummed absentmindedly on the table, your mind racing through the myriad reasons why he might have forgotten. Was he so caught up in his latest project that he lost track of time? Was it something more? Was this just another example of his dismissive attitude toward those things that didn’t concern him directly?

You let out a frustrated sigh, catching sight of the time on your wrist. That’s when the door to your home opened with a soft creak, and in strode Ratio, his usual confident stride unshaken by the misstep. His hair was slightly disheveled, his eyes scanning the room before locking onto you. He paused, his expression flickering with something akin to surprise.

“I... I did not expect this, honestly. I thought you had other plans?” he said, his words slightly flustered, as if he hadn’t anticipated finding you alone, waiting.

“You said you’d come,” you replied, trying to keep the sharp edge from your voice, though it slipped through. “I—we—needed you here.”

He blinked, seemingly taken aback by the hurt in your tone. His posture softened slightly, but his usual confidence still clung to him like armor. “My apologies,” he said, his voice a touch quieter. “I became… distracted by an unforeseen development in the lab. It seems I misjudged my ability to be present.” He paused, noticing the disappointed look on your face. “I’ll make it up to you. I assure you, this was never my intention.”

You tried to hide the frustration in your gaze, not wanting to push him too far, but the weight of his words did little to soothe the ache in your chest. He didn’t understand—not fully. He rarely did.

“I just… needed you here. Not the work, not the research. You.”

For the first time, you saw a flicker of vulnerability in his gaze. His gaze softened, the usual pride replaced with something gentler. He stepped closer, his voice quieter now. “I will be more present next time. I won’t let work overshadow this again.” He hesitated, then spoke, his tone much more sincere. “You deserve that.”

Your breath caught in your throat, and though the sting of his absence lingered, you allowed yourself to soften, giving him the benefit of doubt. "I know."

The garden was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of leaves in the breeze. The sun was setting, casting a soft golden glow over the peaceful scene. You had planned a small gathering for the two of you—just you and Sunday, a rare chance to connect in a tranquil setting. But as the minutes ticked by and the sky darkened, you couldn’t shake the feeling of disappointment.

You had asked him to join you today, a simple request really. You had hoped to spend time with him outside of his usual duties, but now you found yourself alone, staring at the empty chair beside you.

You leaned back against the stone bench, arms crossed tightly over your chest as you tried to keep your thoughts from spiraling. Maybe it was too much to ask for. Maybe, in his eyes, this wasn’t as important as whatever else he was wrapped up in.

Just as you were about to turn and leave, you heard footsteps. You looked up to see Sunday, his ethereal figure framed by the soft light. His wings fluttered slightly, and his eyes met yours—guilt clouding his gaze.

“I’m so sorry,” he began, his voice tinged with regret. “I didn’t mean to forget. My thoughts… wandered. There’s always something more to be done, but I shouldn’t have let it distract me from you.”

You uncrossed your arms, staring at him, not knowing what to say. Part of you wanted to be angry, to demand answers for his absence. But when you looked at him—really looked at him—you saw the weariness in his eyes, the conflict beneath his calm exterior. He’d struggled so much with balancing his ideals and his personal connections.

“I understand,” you said softly, your voice quiet. “But you did forget. You promised.”

Sunday approached, his steps slow, his wings brushing lightly against the air as he knelt beside you. “I know. And I can’t undo it,” he admitted, lowering his head in quiet shame. “But I’m here now, and I won’t leave. I’ll stay. You’ve always been there for me when I needed you… I only hope to give you that same reassurance.”

For a moment, there was silence between you. Then, slowly, you took his hand, offering him a small, understanding smile. "It's just... a little disappointing. But you being here now, it’s enough."

He smiled, a soft, relieved smile that spoke volumes. “Next time, I promise to be more present. To not let distractions pull me away.”

[the-fire-within0]

Libra in Mars

I remember having someone I knew personally getting the "ick" from my Libra being in my Mars. Never understood why. I know it's considered in detriment and not the ideal placement for Libra, but being mocked for it never made sense to me.

From my understanding, for anyone with the same placement, the reason Libra is considered in detriment is that Libra's ruler is Venus, while Mars rules Aries and Scorpio. When Mars is in Libra, it doesn't flow as naturally compared to its complementary counterparts.

People with Libra in Mars often struggle with asserting themselves, preferring to avoid conflict and relying on others' opinions or assistance rather than their own independent drive. This tendency can lead to scattered energy, a lack of follow-through, and misdirection, as well as possible procrastination.

Don't think that's the be-all end-all or that it means it's a "curse." We don't want that kind of black-and-white thinking when we're talking about astrology here.

For the positives, Libra in Mars tend to be very justice-ridden. They prefer equality, balance, diplomacy, and fairness. They might also love the idea of collaborating with another person who share the same common goals. They're not too fond of the idea of direct confrontation, however would prefer to resolve conflicts through discussion and compromise, using tact and diplomacy to maintain harmony. They'll do a lot of thinking before settling on something.

Much of their motivation and energy could stem from appreciation for beauty, a sense of fairness, and the pursuit of balanced relationships. They may direct their energy towards artistic pursuits, creating something beautiful, and advocating for justice.

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

Imagine you're Mr. Wu and your weird gay daughter runs away in tears after destroying some unespecified object while yelling about you ruining her life. Because you told her you'd be moving to another state. This is the last time you see your daughter in half a year, and when she comes back, she comes back... wrong. She's wearing a light leather armor, a fur-lined cape, and a green flower crown. She has two long scars, one alongside her spine and the other along her chest, the tissue around them covered in burn scars. Doctors say she shouldn't have survived. Doctors say she didn't. Yet she's right here, in front of you, hospital gown clinging to her small, fragile, trembling frame. She fidgets with her hands. Getting her to stay still has always been difficult, but now it seems impossible. She won't let go of her phone. She's always texting her two friends. When you take it away, she gets anxious. You always knew those damn phones cause kids to act weird, but your kid having a panic attack seems too extreme, even for her. Then again, she's always been odd. Nowadays, she wakes up crying and screaming almost every night, and you realize she's been stealing her phone from your bedside drawer every night to text her friends, returning it before you wake up. You catch her once and decide to give her that damn phone back. It's the only thing that calms her down, as if she were a baby with a pacifier. She spends her last weeks in LA clinging to her friends, having sleepovers and playing her weird board games with them. Everytime they drop her back at her house, there's an excessive amount of hugs and tears. But the moments when they call her, or when she leaves to meet with them, or when they show up at their door to pick her up... those are the only moments in which you see her happy. One of her friends, the rude and disobedient one, came back with a big scar on her face. She's been acting a lot nicer, though. The other one too. She acts a great deal more adult now. You doesn't know what happened or where your daughter went. She won't tell you. But you can tell this friendship is the only thing keeping her afloat right now. Maybe you know, deep down, that no one else would understand.

And then you decide to move anyway because fuck her amirite

[impossible-rat-babies]

me carrying around my fordola did nothing wrong sign once more

[s0lemnhypn0s]

Kinda paranoid this post is gonna sound like a "let men be masculine" type post bc that is NOT the intent. I don't think there are any rules to making a trans character or headcanoning a character as trans (Just... don't be transphobic about it) but it does kinda Not Feel Great to see a lot of people making a character, pre-transition, present very "femininely" or very "masculinely". Like. Late-discovery-never-processed-their-feelings trans characters, trans characters who presented a certain way to bury their feelings, or trans characters who are GNC are cool and I love them! But I wanna see more... Ways that people choose to depict a trans person's pre-transition self.

(Crocodile Genderbenders DNI)

Sorry to Constantly talk abt trans croc its just smth I hold dear. But like. So often I see people decide pre-transition croc was Super "Feminine", wore dresses, had tons of make-up on, and like. Idk man! Everyones entitled to their headcanons, and I won't spring to calling anyone transphobic, particularly not if its a trans person projecting. But it'd be nice to, idk.... See a trans Croc who always vehemently refused anything societally associated with womanhood. Trans kid Croc who was pushed to wear make-up and did it as badly as he could on purpose. Trans Croc who got rejected by girls because they could tell smth wasn't "right" with him, and would be shunned by boys because he wasn't what they wanted. Rough and tumble trans Croc. Trans Croc who enjoyed the concept of jewelry (Like rings or earrings), but avoided wearing it because of its ties with (*Patriarchal, white supremacist) womanhood. Trans Croc whose family did everything they could to make him a "proper girl", but he refused it, time and time again. He wasn't gonna be what they wanted him to be, and when he discovered this was called Being Trans, it didn't really change much, because he'd just sort of always been firm on his identity.

Again. Everyones entitled to their headcanons. But IDK man. Some more stuff would be nice.

[2amficposting]

Split Ends - Prologue II | Shigaraki x Reader

Synopsis: Shigaraki ponders about his old friend. Old scabs get picked, old places revisited, and new feelings emerge. He swore he had a plan when he saw you that day, but plans change, don’t they?

📝 gn!reader | childhood friend! reader

-

Shigaraki had never been one to feel confused about anything. He had been the most certain he’s ever been at his stance on his past. He was abandoned, then taken in, then let the truest form of reality show itself piece by piece. He was certain of who he was.

So why is it that he was confused when he saw you for the first time in a decade?

It was no surprise that when he saw you after a decade or so, he was planning something. Planning a reunion, of sorts. Yet he was stuck, stuck in the rut of trying to find out just what the hell happened to you for you to come back so suddenly. He had been tracking you, of course. Memorizing your routine, the steps home, where you usually frequent. He needed everything before he could even begin to act on this so-called “reunion” plan.

He slumps over his chair, feverishly playing the sims to get his mind off of things. He needed to have control of something right now.

Memories of when you were kids began to replay in the back of his mind. You were his closest friend back then, and you probably would think that you still are now. He could hear the shared giggling ringing in his ear as he continued to get sucked into the game. He cant admit it. He won’t admit it.

Still, the sounds of your laughter echoed in the back of his mind as he continues to be brought back to that place, back to the few things he remembered from his childhood.

They say that it’s normal to be battling demons from the past, but you couldn’t exactly fit the description of one. You were sweet, kind, and the only one outside his mother who had treated him the nicest in his life. You had indulged in his fantasies of becoming a hero. You had tried your hardest to play with him despite your parents’ wishes, and you especially were trying until you couldn’t anymore to see him.

So why, why is he so pissed off right now?

Maybe it’s because you were the only living person alive to know “Tenko” and only “Tenko”. Perhaps it’s because you were the only one he didn’t already disintegrate, the only one he hadn’t ruined by his own hands. Or maybe it’s his reaction to knowing that there is one other person alive that would be able to understand him now.

He knew you were at least alive. But you were unreachable, at least now.

Ah. His sim just blew up the stove. Great.

Shigaraki scoffs, leaning back as he stares up the ceiling. He breathes in the room air as he ponders what had happened to get you to come back here.

-

Visions of the past starts to resurface. He remembered, you used to play with him after school, didn’t you?

The sounds of birds chirping in the background colored his ears as he remembered the streets you two would walk together with. You had a hero action figure on one hand, and the box at the other. "I can't believe it! We scored another goodie!" Laughter filled the air as the two of you shared glances at the toy. "You're too good at this sometimes...it's insane!" Tenko exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air once as if he were a superhero. You smiled "I know right! My quirk's looking up to be quite useful after all~" - Shigaraki clicked feverishly again, trying to undo a fire. - More visions appeared. This time, you were the one to wait outside his house.

"Tenko! It's me! I got the board game!" Tenko of course, ran downstairs with his backpack and hat ready. His mother shared nodding glances at yours as the two of you head over to your house to play. In your room, you open up the board game to reveal a monopoly game. Only this time, you two wouldn't be playing the usual way. Pieces began to float as you closed your eyes, manipulating a scene of a lively city area. The pieces move and manipulate to your heart's whims, Tenko only stared in awe as the molded plastic suddenly turned lively. "What do you see, Tenko? I need to keep my eyes closed to keep going" Tenko furrowed his brows, tilting his head as he sees a man trying to control his out of control dog from.

"A guy is trying really hard to control his dog right now" he giggled, leaning closer to watch the events unfold. You could only giggle back, shutting your eyes further as you imagined that scenario even more vividly. "And what's happening now?" Tenko stares down, seeing a group of individuals dance around near the beach. "There's a dance group right now! They're doing that one kira kira sequence!" You gasped, opening your eyes "Really?!" Just like that, everything stopped, reverted, and fell to the side. The two of you sighed, disappointed at the sight. A pout formed at your face "It's not fair...I wanna see my quirk too..." You slumped over, fiddling with one of the plastic pieces "If only I could open my eyes without disabling my quirk...It's no fun only having to hear what's happening while everything's pitch black..." A sigh escaped your lips, yet Tenko muttered out, his face flushing "Well, if we were a hero duo, I can look out for the stuff you're doing always" Your eyes opened up "That's a great idea! We'll duo this thing together!"

Tenko looked over at you, his eyes glimmering with a sense of admiration. "Y-you really mean that?" You smiled, pumping your fist in the air "Yeah! We could be a hero duo just you'll see! You be my eyes and I'll be your hands!"

- Another screw-up. Shiggy's sim didn't feed their baby again. -

Another memory. One that wasn't so...happy. It was the last time he had ever saw you. A day before you left the neighborhood, and the day you left him. You were in his room this time, flipping through the comic books that Tenko had borrowed from the library. The air was quiet, but even he could tell that you were troubled by something. You spoke out finally, “My parents are mad at me again...” Tenko looked over, closing the comic as he looked over at you in confusion. "Dad doesn't like my quirk at all...he told me that if I keep using it, I'll get in serious trouble" You frowned, continuing "What does he know anyway? It's not fair..."

Tenko could only look down, saddened that you're being punished for something so great. I mean, why would your dad even find issue with this? It's your quirk for goodness’ sake! If anything, you should be able to use it as much as you wanted! You sighed, rolling over closer to Tenko "But y'know...Mom has a way to convince dad that my quirk is any good" Snickering through your words, you smiled "If all goes well tomorrow, I'll be in the clear to be a certified hero when I grow up!" Tenko only smiled, chuckling softly as he reminisced about that promise of being a hero duo with you.

"I can't wait for tomorrow then!"

- Shigaraki's eyes twitched as he sees the notification bar on the top right. His baby was taken away.

He took a deep breath, hands shaking as he tried his best to not disintegrate his mouse.

"Dammit."

Shigaraki cursed at himself silently. He stared up at the boarded out windows, seeing the moonlight illuminate his room as he stared at the clock right next to one of the windows. It was time for your nightly walks. He begins scratching his neck again, thinking...

Maybe it was time to pay you a visit. Personally.

[vaguely-concerned]

few things bring me as much joy as my rook's expressive capacity for sudden withering disdain. (he's looking at illario here, of course lmao.) he's so hey i'm just a little guy...🥺 coded most of the time and then someone says something dumb enough that the mask cracks for a moment and every line of him says 'that is the stupidest fucking thing anyone has ever said to me and I'm aggrieved to even have had to hear it'. rye is mostly very kind but there IS a bastard lurking in his head waiting to be let out as well. not just solas but solas too I suppose. two bastards in rye ingellvar's head they keep each other company and are trying to strangle each other as we speak 😌.

(vs. him looking over at lucanis a moment later during the same line delivery. since lucanis was actively into viago once I cannot imagine that getting to watch rye crack and be kind of mean to people who've earned it when too sorely tried is like. entirely without allure to him fhskjadf. witnessing illario pulling the old ingratiating 'rooook reason with him would you~ I'm the cousin with the charisma stats' routine and This being rook's response probably opened some as of yet ill-understood '...I think I hauve covid' corners of lucanis' soul. tfw your buddy has your back so completely (dawning erotic implications))