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.”
You know when a rare pair kinda becomes your favorite pairing? Because I feel like I can talk about Higuchuu for ages. Something about the dynamic between the romantic, loyal, emotionally sensitive right-hand/bodyguard (to someone else at that, someone she chases but can never reach), and the (as I like to believe) also romantic, loyal, and emotionally charged executive. They hardly interact, if at all, except for that conversation in Wan about the bathhouse. They have no reason to.
But what if they did?
A chance encounter outside of work, in a place neither expected to find the other because they really don’t know each other. And how lovely if it were to be a bookstore, in the romance section, no less. They make small talk through the shelves, hesitant, half reluctant but dreading the awkwardness of silence in a shared space they each thought was their own.
And then those meetings continue, accidental for a while until they aren’t.
They start teasing each other, playful accusations of one showing up just to see the other. They talk about that shared interest and pick at each other’s hearts about it. They leave the place and forget to part ways, conversation bouncing between them easily, tones of voice mingling in shared lightheartedness.
At work it’s suddenly hushed conversations, shared jokes, her sunny laughter, his leather-smooth smile. More and more frequently they leave together, her arm looped around his while his hands rest in his pockets, head on her shoulder. Safe, simple at first. Then progressively more and more something else.
He makes the first move, inviting her over for a bite, and she still has leftovers in her fridge she wants to eat but she arrives anyway, hair loose around her ears and it does make him pause because of how much it suits her.
She indulges in a sip of wine, nose scrunching in disinterest (alcohol never really appealed to her) that has him a little baffled though he hands her a glass of water without question, heart doing something when she smiles at him, hands back the wine that he keeps for himself from then on, lips occasionally brushing the edge of the glass where hers had been.
They pass the time in idle conversation, talking for the sake of hearing each other, and she curls her legs comfortably on his couch, arm stretched over the armrest and towards his chair, not intending to touch despite how her fingers keep finding his, curling and smoothing over his hand absently as he gives the occasional squeeze, eyes out the window as her words soothe over him, and he chimes in occasionally.
She’s half asleep against the armrest by the time he’s two drinks in, humming softly from her place curled up on the couch. From his chair he watches the city through his wall-spanning window, making lazy, comfortable patterns along her arm as she pipes up with the occasional, any-topic remark that he hums in response to.
It’s late after a while, and she nods sleepily when he offers her a few blankets, falling asleep before they cover her. He yawns, cleans up the glasses, double checks that appliances are off, doors and windows secure for the night, a couch pillow supporting her head.
He leaves a cup of water on the coffee table, the bathroom light on down the hall, and finally sinks into bed. He thinks about what to make for breakfast the next morning. Thinks about asking if she’d want to go to that bookstore they had initially found each other in.
MY POOR BOY, do not listen to your brother he’s mentally ill, he’s not in his right mind.
I like how Tsukasa calls people weird when they don’t know what they want. Like with Kou when he was in the Red House.
Amane is weird, he says he hates Tsukasa, but he can’t stand when they’re apart. Such a weirdo, not knowing what he wants.
For the people who say that this proves Tsukasa is fake, please reread the Red House arc again, especially the last part.
Like mother like son though, I guess. Their mother also thought Tsukasa was a fake.
Even though the change of Tsu is visible after being in the Red House and merging with the dark entity, he’s still Tsukasa.
Tsukasa and the entity resign in the same body, they are the same person now.
Amane’s so sensitive.
He’s not able to handle the rejection. Tsukasa still wants to leave, even after Amane’s tried to tell him they can never be together again ( And he doesn’t want that ), his feelings didn’t reach his brother. Tsukasa still wants to leave him.
He’s not in the right mind, coming up with this conclusion is just showing his instability.
And, in the Manga Up translation Tsukasa actually yells “Amane, behind you!”
But now it’s kind of dull. Interesting, though?
Maybe Iro just doesn’t what Tsu to yell or scream or something.
I like that Kako says ‘so-called imposter’. He knows Tsukasa isn’t a fake, it’s what inside of him.
And the fact Hanako still moves to protect him and Tsukasa, even after calling him a fake.
TSUKASA GRABBING HANAKO LIKE HE WAS GOING TO MOVE AND PROTECT HIM. OH MY GOD.
Gay a**.
Kako’s Santa Claus.
What does he mean by ‘eating away’ at Kamome?
The entity is the root of the problem. But what problem?
We aren’t talking about the yorishiros…. The clock? Natsuhiko destroyed the clock though?
What is the entity doing?
I’ve heard people had a theory about this. Congrats, you all were correct!
I didn’t know what the entity was at all. Now we have an idea.
I wonder how it got to the Yugi’s house then?
It’s not good for supernaturals or humans.
Then, I wonder if it’s ever affected Tsukasa before. As a human, and as a supernatural. Or maybe it hasn’t, since they’re the same person.
Now they’re in 1968.
The Clock Keepers are trying to prevent whatever happened here, and make a new presents.
They could have went back to when Tsukasa granted wishes to the dark entity under his house. They could have went to the time Tsukasa got back from the Red House. Even when he got murdered by his brother.
But, they went back to when they were just 12 years old.
What happened then?
What happened during that time, that’s supposed to be the root of why all of this is happening, whatever is happening?
At least Nene knows something is up, she always does.
I’m hoping she can at least do something to stop the Clock Keepers.
Maybe, that means working with someone to stop this, she can’t do this by herself.
Anyone else think the only reason Dink is a bitch to the Chain is because the shadow feels incomplete? Like in a sense this is one of the Link's darkness in physical form. Their hatred, malice, sadness and every other negative emotion.
If you take the Skyward Sword Prequel as canon then Hylia would no doubt cast this part of Link(First)'s soul out. Truth is that there's nothing wrong with having an inner darkness. Everyone has one whether they like it or not.
Similar to how people view fear as a weakness when in reality it isn't. A vital emotion to help us avoid danger, what tells you to run, and keep you alive. I think the only time, Shadow Link wasn't seen as much of a threat, is in Four's game.
It was an mini boss for Time/Mask in Ocarina and actual boss in Hyrule's game. You can say Dink's behavior is mirroring the Doppelganger episode from Martin Mystery.
For those who don't know, the plot of this episode begins when a woman decides to magically expel her doppelgänger(correct pronunciation). You can view it as the devil on your shoulders or bad influence. It didn't take this so well for the doppelganger began stealing the faces of those who looked like her missing half, which was her real target.
It did settle down however when the woman went to recite the spell backwards to become one with her doppelganger again. Dink could probably be acting similar to just that. Angry for being torn from his other half and wouldn't hesitate to make that rage known.
