#. 。・ー « verse i. main verse. » ❛ a keeper of the peace he wrote.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

       ❝ do you recall the time we attempted to use erasure and foresight at the same time----? ❞ difficult to forget, considering both nearly short-circuited and collapsed for who knows how long. he vaguely recalled darkness, as though his eye sockets were burnt to a cinder from a boil within his own skull. everything dilated, a layer of white noise as a sudden descend into unconsciousness blanketed across him. but, there was a slight fascination as to why his entire peripheral vision had completely been vacated or erased. that, plus the effect foresight activated caused an issue for a similar quirk ( ----one that requires a semblance of sight, or at least visual confirmation on the intended ‘ focused ’ target ) a slight exhale prolonged the uncomfortable silence. it hadn’t been a pleasant feeling, alas---- it is curious, indeed. ❝ why don’t we try it again----? ❞

@exposensei​ ♡’d----!

[nightcye-archived-blog]

👄 + david shield

☽ ☾ relevations / asks.

@jeanvogue—-!

        ❝ i am the one that can save him, not david—- ❞ envy is not at all flattering shade of color ; on him, nor draped upon the shoulders of anyone else. but it is raw: like a vein of strewn silver-nettle touched with calcite. this insecurity marbled throughout his flesh, a slate of discolored limestone being dissolved at the soluble joints of his lean body. any further, and the oracle threatens to become undone at the seams. distant, chilled citrine optics trained to stare down the competition ; the imminent future is his to contort, and their destiny is—- unforgivable. his breath halts, reality stills—- akin to a pond without ripples as his impressive stature somehow manages to keep itself together. ❝ i will be the one to guard his legacy. i am the one that truly loves him—-! ❞ no matter who he truly is ; the last part goes unsaid, but the knot in his chest continues to constrict. tighter, tighter—- a noose beginning to sever the connection between the vertebrae and his lithe trachea.         ❝ i am the only sidekick he requires. ❞ love is sometimes bittersweet----. it is strength, as much as it is weakness. right now, it sullies his reasoning ; envenoms his heart and creates a hollow, vacant ‘ immorality ’ that he can taste atop his tongue. every word doesn’t sound like a man that’s logical and reasonable, adoration has changed them—- and at least the oracle is coherent enough in his conscience to recognize the hypocrisy. if this was his own construct of warth, his resentment—- why do those golden eyes burn like cinders behind those thick lenses. a realization takes root, ‘ poor dear, how replaceable you are as humans, and how you’ve always known, ’ it says. a vile echo in the recess of his own head. ‘ convenience tends to win against love, and that which is brand new outweighs the archaic. ’ and in a flash, that initial confidence once brandished in his palm comes crashing down.         it leaves lacerations unseen ; rubbed sore with salt and encrusted dirt. to the grain of his sinew, the oracle can sense such a phantasmal ache. he can sense self-doubt festering, and those unshed tears behind a veil of apathy beginning to bleed backwards into his thoughts. ❝ if david shield can do better, then—- i will step aside. ❞ but either way, it is still his destiny to give his life to protect what he’d once helped built. no one shall take that from him ; in life, or in death.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

❥ : tucking stray hair behind their ear

☽ ☾ display affection / asks.

@exposensei----!

        he is the type to get embroiled in his work ; not moving for hours, or even days when preparing a possible infiltration. pen tapping against his idle fingertips, pressing against the knuckle---- he doesn’t seem to notice another individual ( and often times, a companion ) beginning to approach him. his hair is almost always combed into a perfect, proper style---- but as the product wore off and time took its inevitable toll---- various strands started to brush against his cheekbone. but it doesn’t matter, no one can see him ( minus those that still hold a key to his office, but that is restricted access. some of his own sidekicks don’t have that privilege---- ) a delicate hand touches across his angular face ; wrought with hollowed, pale complexion, and delicately places it back behind his ear. perhaps ‘ delicate ’ is not a good description of the hand: it is calloused, scarred, and a little rough. but the general action itself is tender. ❝ ----sorry, i got a little distracted—- ❞ to put it lightly. the other man always is quite attentive ; more-so than what he currently gave himself credit for. he’d probably noticed that this elusive oracle was absent from a council meeting.         ❝ did anything happen during the meeting—-? ❞ slowly closing the file on the target ; another underground organization that would’ve easily gotten any other hero killed. but foresight is a key component to achieving victory against criminals that’ve proven themselves a cut above the rest. removing his frames for a split second, the elder man rubbed the corners of his eyes. optics closing as though they hadn’t managed to do so in the past hour. slight bloodshot veins appearing near the corners and converging near the iris. citrine color seeming a smidgen more dull due to the constant eye strain. ❝ hakamata is not going to be pleased with me, is he, ❞ given the horrendous state of his hair ( split ends, fading color ) the oracle idly plucks at a piece of his bangs and allows those strands to hang down limply. spreading outwards to display the emerald sheen mixed with bleached streaks. it looks a little more presentable like this ; though not exactly professional. ❝ i suppose i’ll ask him to redo it after the mission. ❞ of course, that is if he manages to survive.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

Sir, what are your thoughts on people who craft their own All Might products?

☽ ☾ personal inquiries.

        ❝ i’m alright with it, ❞ a nonchalant shrug accompanied the oracle’s monotone voice. ❝ so long as an independent contractor doesn’t attempt to make personal royalties off of it. fan made items are completely acceptable. ❞ it simply goes against his creed to have anyone flood the market with subpar merchandise of his previous employer and close partner. he had seen people exploiting all might in ways that would’ve contradicted the overall ‘ symbol of peace ’ which was unacceptable, unforgivable—-. true fans would’ve never utilized their idol in such a manner to facilitate personal gains. especially when all might had already given so much in order to sate the public’s opinion and validate their security. it’s akin to spitting in the face of peace ; as a prior part of this movement, the seer simply couldn’t stand idle and allow such bigotry to happen.         a placated sigh exited his partitioned lips. in truth, his partner doesn’t need him to protect his legacy—- at least not anymore. even then, he also cannot exactly squash the apparent instinct to stick his professional opinion into various aspects of all might’s image. he’d taken care of legal paperwork, professional appearances, merchandise and royalties. one might’ve even argued that all might’s global popularity was based on the back of sir nighteye’s valiant work. his dedication had known no bounds ; altruistic ardor for an elusive tranquility. he still recalls the nights that people would go to bed fearful. beginning to separate the quirkless from those born with quirks, discourse had run amuck and caused numerous rifts. as such—- he had done what he was best at: countless nights spent mulling over schedules, constructing and avoiding various implements that would’ve caused issues for the professional hero.         he had always wanted to protect the protector.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

​❝ what’s wrong? what did you see? ❞

☽ ☾ five senses.

           @exposensei—-!

        the seer must’ve had that look upon his face ; the hairline creased brow, the resurgence of tension within his shoulders that looked like the strings of a piano about to snap----! lacerations carved in his own hands, specifically from where his crescent nails had dug into the pulp of his palm. alas—- despite all that, the man doesn’t shake: a sudden dip into the subconscious happens, or so he’d told himself. it isn’t like he can readily stop foresight once certain conditions are met. sometimes, he swore, this particular quirk had a mind of its own and wrecked havoc even with the slightest touch. maybe it is the resurgence of his own paranoia, though----. perhaps he’s slowly beginning to go insane ; unable to tell the forthcoming future from his own inlaid fears. the man can feel their cold, crooked claws—- climbing up the walls, tearing down his sanity. there’s been many, many moments he’d wanted to deny it. to change it. a quirk was meant to make a hero stronger, to forge them into protectors.         why is it that his brought on such grief—-? utter dismay painted upon his tongue, the viridian-haired male pressed his thumb and forefinger to his temple. even if he had lied to his companion, the other knew him well enough to pinpoint the activation of foresight. ‘ it’s all in your body language, ’ he remembered a particular man once said. ‘ the way your body crumples like a sheet of paper----. it is like you rescind the will to live, ’ like someone succumbing to an unearthly weight. and he cannot deny, it does sometimes feel as though he’s being decimated. the life slowly, methodically being squeezed out. his hearts palpitations weak, contorted. the various ventricles and chambers within him in which hope once grew so plentiful ; there’s naught but a slew of dead roots, vines, and debris. ❝ it’s nothing to concern yourself with, my friend. ❞ there’s a quick realignment of his posture. ❝ i was simply thinking. ❞ a soft, white lie.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

 ☽ ☾ three words.

@hellfyr----!

        what wouldn’t he call that particular man, quite the loaded question. though he would’ve readily admitted: enji has the raw lustrous talent and the means to be an extravagant hero amongst the mundane. such a shame that his humor is otherwise lacking ; a toughness, a brashness settled within his heart that reminded the seer of prickled thorns oozing venom and valediction. his hands touch atop his torso with a softened sigh. ❝ ambitious. callous. perhaps also a little misguided----. ❞ there’s honor amongst heroes, or so they say. those that bleed for others, that readily give their lives. but he doesn’t concern himself on whether or not they’re friends----. or if the second ranked hero shall ever recall a shadow’s name. he willingly lived in the symbol of peace’s shade, content to do so even in the aftermath of such cruelty.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

“ Look how EASILY they turned their backs on you. ”

☽ ☾ a hero’s guilt / prompts.

@hellfyr—-!

        ah—-! the infamous knave knows to strike where it hurts, and he wastes no time in aiming for the exposed jugular. alas, the seer cannot help but chuckle under a wisp of breath: such an obvious move—-. still his expression turned into a glower ; as much as a man tries to leave his past buried. there’s always someone who wants to drudge it up. the stench of otherwise soiled emotions, like an acidic bile or rancid cesspool. good intentions, they’d started off as. mutual affection, adoration, support, and compromise. oh, how quickly fame and duty had caused a rift between even the closest, most beloved partners. the oracle cannot deny that to this day—- it caused a significant ache in his chest. but an unfeeling, undeterred man such as himself also has a reputation to uphold. so he feigns numbness. no one will know how deep that scar stretches ; how his hollowed bones are broken, gnarled and rooted in his pulp. never properly healed, nor acknowledged. much less by the individual whom remains unnamed amidst their scuffle.

        ❝ envy looks very unsightly on you, endeavor. ❞ a calm, nigh sharp tone pierces the atmosphere. somehow, it makes the flames turn into shards of ice. rather than boiling, they’re dead cold. these words, these tactics. it is best to play against someone who’s at least of his own caliber. both hands move to cross atop his lithe torso. ❝ whether or not that is true—-. there was at least one time that i had them facing me as an equal. which is saying more than a man who’s always chasing a shadow. ❞ like a pathetic mongrel, kneading for scraps and validation. endeavor wouldn’t last one hour in the limelight. no, he knows all too well from dictating his past partner’s livelihood. keeping his secret. feeling the exact same pressure as everyone bore down upon them. ‘ you must save us, ’ they can no longer be mere mortal men and women in the eyes of the public. heroic toxicity is a true bane ; one he’s attempted to squash ( or at least regulate ) over the years.         ❝ and unlike the both of you, at least i knew how to raise a proper hero. ❞ looking at their successors, well. it is easy to see who is the winner in raising the best ‘ next generation. ’ mentally and physically. ❝ if the prince for my success is having others turn their backs on me. so be it. ❞ he’ll remain as heartless as a man with a heart possibly can. there are many individuals that might’ve assumed him far more feeble than his past partner. but, he’ll quickly squash that presumption. there’s no one quite like him with such an unshakable will.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

“ i’d like to be wherever you are. ”

☽ ☾ poetry starters.

        @jeanvogue—-!

        ❝ i am aware you mean well, jeanist---- but you cannot come with me on this mission. ❞ the blond always has been his best advocate. he’s the reason that this office exists in the first place, after all. but how can he prove himself if he still leans on heroes of a higher caliber than himself. as time goes on ; he distances himself from the hero. jeanist is needed elsewhere, for far more diligent missions. his own intel and raid missions are important, of course. but that doesn’t mean that they should add to the already hefted burdens placed upon their shoulders. his ability is meant to divert at least some weight on tactical maneuvers. but, he presumed that his best friend does have good reason to worry about him. to attempt to garter him into places where he can be protected: all might was the same way----.       ❝ if i could prove myself a million times over. maybe, maybe we could continue to follow one another. but as of now. i am not equal to you, not yet---- and i want to stand on mutual ground with those i revere as much as you. ❞ but perhaps that, in of itself---- is quite the struggle. foresight placed a lot of strain on him, mentally. as the blond had seen numerous times ; specifically when his mental state and emotional fortitude were at their lowest tier. even contemplating taking his own life as a means to evade this looming sense of helplessness----. loneliness, too---- foresight has a habit of isolating someone from those that can merely walk alongside him. unaware of the future, unaware of tragedy. ignorance is bliss, indeed.         ❝ should i ever leave you behind---- or go somewhere you cannot follow. just be aware that i am so happy you were---- here with me. thank you, and i will try my best to return. as always, ❞ though there’s never exactly a full guarantee.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

​❝ i love the feel of your hair between each of my fingers. ❞

☽ ☾ five senses.

          @jeanvogue—-!

        ❝ —-perhaps a bit too much. ❞ a softened taunt as the other male continued to sift through his locks. it’s become sort of a ritual, now. the self-assured stylist, grooming ; the victim seated in a nearby chair as his bangs are evenly portioned out. painted upon with a course brush, a scent of pungent bleach. but even then, a hint of floral conditioner. coating the viridian parts of his locks, keeping the natural softness and sheen. giving it means to lay evenly across his scalp in such a valiant display----. he looks so calm, so composed. even though jeanist was on the fence about mixing such a clash of colors.         blond highlights do seem to suit him, at least in a symbolic manner. he’s like blades of grass, graced with autumn's touch. amber waves, a soft gold. still, the depth of the oracle is like an endless, deep forest. he’s lean, tall—- akin to a languid tree. a canopy that covers, but is made quite beautiful under a compassionate hand. of which, he does admit that he’s gotten the absolute best stylist on the planet. ❝ don’t play too much with my hair, tsunagu. you’re going to make me look questionable. ❞ or so he says.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

[ groom ]

▽  prompt. |  &  |               non-sexual acts of dominance—-!

@jeanvogue—-!

[ groom ] – your muse adjusting mine’s appearance , such as straightening a tie , fixing their hair , or buttoning their shirt for them , etc . 

        ❝ stop that, ❞ such a restless ambiance. so unlike the normally calm, confident hero. but, he supposed it isn’t everyday that someone has to claim their title as a top hero. as well as make a speech that millions all across the nation would’ve heard. ❝ you’re wrinkling it up----! ❞ swatting the other’s hand down, he smoothed out the tie ; no doubt deviating from the normal denim attire is already stressful enough. but the oracle’s palms smack against the other’s cheeks to garter his attention. ❝ listen to me, ❞ the clairvoyant began. ❝ everything will be fine, tsunagu. above all else have confidence in my abilities. or at least acknowledge my faith in you. ❞ perhaps he had chosen to utilize foresight ; or perhaps not, sometimes it is difficult to tell because he can hide the gradient ‘ shift ’ in his eyes.        alas, despite the other’s excessive movement---- the tie is pulled up a bit tighter across the collar, snug against the inner seams of the shirt. his hands sprawl across the blond locks as the announcement comes on, the broadcast is about to go live. ❝ just know that i’ll always be proud of you, ❞ as though that would’ve ever changed. his closest companion is so much more than worthy----.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

Tries to be polite and pour tea for him, but gets nervous and hecks it up anyway — accidentally spilling some hot tea on Nighteye's knee and shoes. Oh heck.

▽  ask. |  &  |           unprompted—-!

@heromight—-!

        ❝ haa—-? ❞ figures, the anxious child can barely hold a kettle without spilling the contents everywhere. given that serving a client was always important, especially in business---- he slowly picked up two of the clay cups and set them down. the slight discomfort on his knee and the shift as he removed his shoes ( oh, all might socks ) shuffling them to the side. ❝ if you continue to shake so much, who’s ever going to feel comfortable in calling you a hero—-? ❞ even when justifiably intimidated, a hero has to showcase a default resolution. stern and unyielding. given that he seemed to strike a rather nervous reaction, it seemed that he would’ve been the best individual to test this method on. there’s a moment of quiet, both hands shift to take the child’s and steady him for a split second. his earliest memory of his mother doing a tea ceremony, in the apex of spring amidst cherry blossoms. the way that others would sit across the table, spinning the cup in a delicate gyration before taking a sip. yes, those were simpler times.         but grace is needed in etiquette. people will always judge a hero on their mannerisms as much as their deeds. ❝ here. follow my lead, ❞ he dips the spout as to lightly allow the flow of steeped loose-leaf tea to glide into the cup. not too quick, but also not painstakingly slow. these handmade sets are quite heavy, and the arm can easily get tired. pouring cup after cup, serving guest after guest. he aids in setting it down as well, in the proper place. between their cups, as well as far away from the sugar and cream. though, he’d always chosen to drink tea straight. without any embellishments. ❝ there. the longer you fiddle with something, the more likely it is you’ll mess it up. trust your initial movements, and don’t overdo it. ❞ sometimes, too much is---- simply too much. any additional thoughts, or various insecurities----. it is better to let it go and merely entrust it to one’s instinct. overthinking can be good, but it is also a bane to those that cannot control it. ❝ don’t let your thoughts run wild. ❞         oh, and---- ❝ please clean these shoes. ❞ he’s definitely going to do that before he’s allowed to sit back down for afternoon tea.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

mei is momentarily startled by the unfamiliar face, only for stretched, thin lips to turn into a radiating, full smile. she nudges the pair of goggles that sat in front of her gold, alluring irises. pushing them upwards to her forehead so that she could get a better view of the lean, mysterious figure. ❝ are you interested in checking out of my babies? is that why you're here? i don't think i’ve seen you around, but since you're here you must be interested in adopting! ❞

▽  ask. |  &  |          unprompted—-!

@galsngadgets—-!

        to think someone so young could’ve created such an arrangement of tools. truly, the seer had always believed those in the ‘ support ’ class had been under-appreciated ; since it was their designs that had amplified a pro hero’s power and reach for decades. specifically, someone like him with a passive quirk required a lot of additional aid and training to even be on par with those born specifically with a ‘ stronger ’ or ‘ more formidable ’ offensive output. his arms crossed atop his lithe torso ; the child is a zealous one, indeed---- but the truth is he favored those with strong personalities. they’re much more impressionable than someone who’s naturally meek or otherwise uncertain. so, even though such immeasurable confidence might’ve also gotten a lil’ tangled. ❝ i came to see them up close. they’re good enough to sell to various offices, certainly—- ❞ his voice trailed. ❝ but the majority of these items a little too geared towards an individual’s quirk enhancement. perhaps you should consider expanding your clientele a little more—-? ❞         of course, it is a suggestion. he melds heroes, not so much support staff ; though his intellect is on par with most of the engineers. his hands twist one of the calibrators between his thumb and forefinger, truly---- the concept is innovative. but to him, this feels restrictive to those that already held a specific quirk. they’d truly lucked out when getting a parter with a specific agility and velocity quirk for their set ‘ stage. ’ slowly, his hand set it down---- were he twenty years younger, he might’ve actually enjoyed such classes. given the freedom to design various items. ❝ tell me, could you make a compressor seal that quadruples in weight than what it originally appears to be. preferably around ten kilograms in an item that’s perhaps meant to weigh a meager two ounces—-? ❞ he seemed intrigued enough to commission them, but again. his quirk isn’t exactly something that could be enhanced. instead, it seemed his interest laid in a simple, but intuitive creation. such an interesting pair these two deviant minds make----!

[nightcye-archived-blog]

@smashkick  | | & | |  ❤’d—-!

        ❝ —-seems as though you want to ask a question, ❞ or perhaps use the bathroom----? either way, the viridian boy had a weird way of squirming. at the moment, even foresight couldn’t help pinpoint what exactly would come out of his mouth. as a mentor, he’s entitled to get some odd queries from his charges----. still, it doesn’t necessarily mean he’ll choose to be straight-forward. ❝ although if it is about my all might merchandise. i can settle all requests at a polite, but firm ‘ no---. ’ ❞ he can sense another avid collector from a mile away.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

[ volume ] your muse demanding mine speak louder .

▽  prompt. |  &  |             non-sexual acts of dominance—-!

@erasershouta—-!

[ volume ] your muse demanding mine speak louder .

        ❝ shouta—- ❞ the teacher had such a deep voice, it drones in a way that gets somewhat mumble-based and inaudible when he’s truly drained. or so the oracle surmised. to be honest, he cannot tell whether the other meant to talk to him. or, if he was merely talking to himself. it sounded like he wanted to commune something, at least ; given that it wasn’t the underground hero’s status quo to approach anyone lest he had to----. blinking, those citrine eyes remain on the exhausted hero as the aimless murmurs continued. ❝ shouta—-! ❞ this time, with the usage of his first name plus the risen tone, seemed to snap the teacher out of a self-imposed haze.         ❝ haa—- i cannot understand what you’re saying. you’re speaking so softly. ❞ or too low. perhaps a bit of both, given the other’s natural manner of pitch. but it definitely does seem to get worse whenever the other is being evasive or is lacking in the sleep department. ❝ if you want, i can take over your class period so you can get a little more rest. i don’t mind. ❞ it isn’t like he’d had much planned, anyway. plus he is licensed to teach, despite his natural desire to avoid contact with overly energetic children at all cost. he’s already got one hot on his heels that he couldn’t shake off, ah---- what’s one or two more----?

[nightcye-archived-blog]

[ guide ]

▽  prompt. |  &  |               non-sexual acts of dominance—-!

@allmightcy—-!

[ guide ] – your muse putting a hand on mine’s back to lead them .

        ❝ no, no, no, no more questions. no more interviews, we’re going---- ❞ they’re already late on the docket because someone had to go rescue a child that managed to fall into a construction zone. honestly, there’s other licensed heroes in their vicinity that could’ve taken care of this. but of course ; his partner had to go out of his way in order to ‘ play ’ the role. one could’ve even visualized the steam beginning to rise from the sidekick’s ears, he adores all might but sometimes he wanted to slap some common sense into him. touching atop the massive shoulder blades and curvature of the symbol’s back. giving him a sharp push. keeping his palm there, he forcibly moves the blond past the flashing lights, microphones, and constant jabber of reporters.         a young, eager woman pushed forward in an attempt to block them, which was rewarded with a very keen glare. behind glasses, and at six-foot seven inches ; his stoic expression was enough to send the crowd almost scrambling backwards. ❝ if you would like a comment please submit a request to our office. ❞ said in such a way that definitely gave the impression, ‘ you do not want to mess with me today, ’ as soon as they’d pushed through the thick of the crowd---- he yanked the blond into a side-studio. ❝ do you even realize how behind we are for our filming segment, you’ve really got to learn how to say no to people----. ❞ the producer’s going to be furious. or, well---- as furious as someone can be with a famous celebrity.

[nightcye-archived-blog]

"Hey dad I - - ................. SIR, NIGHTEYE-SAN,SIRSAN - I - I I'LL LEAVE THE WHOLE WORLD NOW, BYE." Tries to show himself out the window.

▽ misc. |  &  |          unprompted—-!

@whatasmiledoes—-!

        ❝ —-what——-? ❞ his eyes blink aimlessly behind his framed glasses ; but other than that, there’s little reaction to the comment. honestly, spending so much time with his interns, it isn’t uncommon for them to slip up. except none are as awkward about it as a certain someone. most would’ve laughed it off, or attempted to act as though it never happened. it’s a little humorous, though—- especially when the successor has one foot out the window like he’s prepared to eject himself preferably out of this entire reality. ❝ please use the door. you’re going to get stuck in the window, & that will be difficult to explain to potential customers——. ❞