#Interaction: Opalescence

[prythianpages]

Starstruck | Eris x Rhysand's Sister

series masterlist | summary: Eris finds out the truth of your powers and strikes a bargain with you.

word count: 3.9K

warnings: mentions of blood (from a nose bleed), vague mention of child abuse (there's a flashback of kid Eris, where he has a bruise on his cheek from Beron)

a/n: This takes place right after the events of Just A Girl but in Eris's POV.

The ballroom falls into a stunned silence upon your dramatic exit, the heavy doors slamming shut behind you. Eris pauses, savoring the tension that now crackles in the air. His sharp eyes scan the room, settling on the gathered High Lords and Rhysand.

The firstborn to the Night Court’s lips are pressed tightly together but the occasional shake of his shoulders betrays him. It appears that High Lord Thesan shares the same sentiment, eyes sparkling with poorly concealed amusement. Eris’s gaze then finally lands on his father’s.

High Lord Beron’s face is flushed, his jaw tense in the heat of discussion with your father. His hands gesture wildly, each movement betraying his agitation and High Lord Orion surprisingly just takes it. There’s no apprehension on his face and no mouthing of apologetic words. In fact, High Lord Orion keeps his gaze on Beron but motions for the orchestra to continue playing, bringing life back into the ballroom. Eris’s mouth twitches as he fights to suppress his laughter, wishing his mother had been here to witness it too.

His father had it coming but never would Eris have thought it’d come from you.

He shifts his weight, the rich fabric of his attire whispering against the polished moonstone wall. He lets out a slow, measured breath and then, he counts to sixty. He casts one more glance at his father, before turning away, the ghost of a chuckle finally escaping his lips. He slips out the double doors with an unhurried grace, despite the sudden urge to see you.

Ever since he met you, Eris has been endlessly curious about you. His eyes found you at every event, attention always drawn to you. You were the first daughter to be born to a High Lord and given your older brother’s reputation, it left many–Eris, himself included–what role you would take on.

Would you carry on as emissary? Would you marry for power? Or would you fight for the title of Night Court heir as the sons of Spring and Autumn do? And if so, with what power? At least that question was answered tonight.

Words were seldom spoken amongst one another but Eris had meant to change that tonight. However, it seemed that every year, the demand for your attention only grew higher. Not only were you proving yourself to be a fae capable of great power and responsibility but also of remarkable beauty.

One of Spring’s sons–Heathen, or whatever his name was, Eris couldn’t bring himself to care–was your latest victim. He kept you occupied most of the night and despite your apparent disinterest, Eris found your interactions far too entertaining to save you from it.

**

Eris has frequented the Court of Nightmares but the Moonstone Palace? Not so much. It’s a beautiful maze of opalescent luster with long corridors. Sheer amethysts curtains flutter from the open windows and as he pauses, he picks up on a subtle jasmine scent. He follows it, allowing it to lead him to you.

He finds you in what appears to be a moon garden, surrounded by white peonies and cosmos. A stone arch rests in the middle, where a cascade of jasmine blooms alongside the weathered crevices. The flowers gleam faintly, reminiscent of the tiny stars scattered across the night sky above. You’re leant against the arch, head tilted upwards,  eyes closed and wings slightly curled in.

The moonlight kisses your skin, making you appear as delicate and radiant as the flowers that surround you.  You are like a sweet dream in a Court of Nightmares. Eris takes a step forward, his breath catching at the sight of you. He hesitates, noticing the furrow of your brows. Could you sense him?

But then, he sees something dark trickle down your nose.

Your eyes flutter open, a curse slipping from your lips as you instinctively pinch the bridge of your nose and lean forward. Eris is quick to act as he pulls a handkerchief from the inner pocket of his suit. The fabric is soft and embroidered with his initials in red thread—a detail you fail to notice in your distress.

Without hesitation, you take the handkerchief, pressing it to your nose to staunch the bleeding. “I’m in no mood to deal with the consequences of my actions right now. Save your lecture for tomorrow,” you groan out, your voice tinged with frustration and fatigue.

“Too bad,” Eris tuts. He rejoices in the reaction his voice stirs from you, watching as your body tenses, goosebumps rising on the exposed skin of your arms. “I had an entire speech planned.”

Eris watches with bated breath as you slowly lift your gaze. Your glare is instant and you're shoving the bloodied handkerchief at his chest, not caring if it stains his shirt.

“A thank you would suffice,” Eris says, biting back his amusement, letting the handkerchief fall to the ground. You don’t say anything, your eyes scanning his face in a wary manner.

“That stunt you pulled back there…,” Eris trails off, tilting his head towards the direction of the ballroom. He then gestures to your nose.  “Pretty reckless, if you ask me.”

You narrow your eyes, feeling the heat of his gaze and challenge in his words. “Did your father send you here to leave me a message? Pretty embarrassing not to confront me himself, if you ask me,” you finally bite back.

The gravel crunches softly under your heels as you turn away, desperate to put some distance between you both. Eris’s expression shifts, a flicker of determination crossing his face. He refuses to let you go so easily so he mirrors you, taking a step forward for every step you take away from him. 

 “Where are you going? To go retrieve those bastard watch dogs of yours? Don’t tell me you’re scared of me.”

You stop, your wings slightly flaring out behind you. His words strike a chord within you. Just as he expected them to. His gaze lingers on your wings longer than they should. He’s insulted those barbarian so called “brothers” of yours multiple instances for those same exact membranous appendages but on you…on you…he rather not finish that thought for he fears what other emotions they may bring forth.

Eris snaps out of his trance as you turn to face him. He finds himself the recipient of the same seething expression you gifted his father earlier in the ballroom. He should be scared. He can feel the great extent of your power coursing through your veins. How had he not sensed it before?

 Darkness begins to seep out from the velvet expanse of your wings as if your body can no longer contain the strong force itself. There’s a primal instinct warning him of danger, to run. Yet, his feet remain rooted to the ground, even as you walk back to him.

The garden seems to hold its breath, the night creatures lurking among the bushes and trees pausing their song to listen in. Their anticipation seeps into him too as he awaits your move. The skirt of your ballgown brushes against his shoes as you lean in and he’s suddenly overwhelmed with your scent.

 “What do you want?”

“To congratulate you,” Eris responds smoothly, his voice as casual as if he were discussing the weather, despite the flutter of his heart. He can only hope you don’t pick up on it. He feigns a nonchalant shrug, echoing the same mannerisms you displayed earlier. With deliberate steps, he crosses the space between you and you take another step back until the stone arch presses against your back.

Reaching over your side, Eris plucks a delicate white peony from the garden. The soft petals tremble in his grasp as he offers it to you, his hand extended in a gesture that should be innocuous, yet somehow feels laden with hidden meaning. 

But you don’t accept the flower.

So Eris moves closer, his fingers deftly tucking the small flower behind your ear. The gentle touch startles you, your breath hitching. He leans in toward your ear, his breath warm against your skin. The sensation sends a ripple through your wings and the sight stirring something deep inside him.

“Well done, my lady,” he whispers and he can hear the way your pulse quickens. The fire in his veins burns brighter, the heat of his presence becoming suffocating in its intensity. “For your role in establishing peace between the Spring Court and the rest of Prythian. Quite astonishing that High Lord Caldwell agreed to those unfair conditions so easily.”

The tension grows thicker and hotter, a silent battle of wills simmering between you. You can sense the danger in his proximity, the underlying threat in his words. And yet, despite the warning bells that should be ringing in your mind at his display of power, there's a part of you inexplicably drawn to the danger he brings.

Eris should’ve known better, finding his power being undermined. You’ve been trained to dance with danger and the unexpected all your life. The dark tendrils that hid within your wings fly out like leaves fluttering in the wind, teasing him with a chilling caress.

“What can I say? I’m pretty convincing.”

Your voice is surprisingly steady and Eris does not miss the retaliation for his threat in your tone. He lets out a thoughtful hum before pulling back. Amber eyes study your face carefully, catching the way your lips curl into a coy smile.

 “Or a master of emotional manipulation…”

“Me?” You say with a small laugh, pointing at yourself for added emphasis. “I’m just a girl.”

Eris raises a brow at you. His body straightens, hands crossing behind his back as he towers over your smaller frame. You raise an eyebrow back in challenge, not fazed at all.

“I doubt anyone will see you as just a girl after tonight,” Eris says, mocking your tone. “What would the High Lords think of you once they learn that the emissary of the Night Court is an empath? Surely, you know my father wouldn’t take that well…Nor would the Spring Court as they are among your victims.”

“Careful, Eris,” you say, voice smooth and rich. It’s the first time you’ve said his name and he can’t help but fall captive to it, allowing it to wrap around him with an enchanting warmth. It’s short lived as a cool caress teases at his throat. Your darkness. 

“It seems like you’re accusing me of something.”

You were no stranger to dancing with danger but Eris was no stranger to dancing with fire.

“Perhaps, I am.”

“Perhaps, you are confused.”

The dark tendrils lingering around his throat press harshly and his jaw tenses in response. Your gaze hardens, defiance flickering in the depths of your eyes and Eris feels his own emotions heighten. There's a thrill in the air, electric and charged. It tickles at his senses, his visions and thoughts threatening to become a blur.

 Ah, there she is, he thinks as he pushes against the wave. Eris's lips curl into a smug smile as a flash of shock crosses your features. Fleeting but unmistakable. Nonetheless he savors the moment, relishing the sight of your carefully crafted facade slipping.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you continue, despite the tumult of emotions swirling beneath the surface. 

The dark tendrils at his throat disappear into the shadows and Eris lets out an exhale, disguising it as a scoff. His hand reaches out, lifting your chin up to meet his gaze and you hold it.

“You can’t fool me, pretty girl.”

Your gaze softens, if only for a moment, and Eris takes advantage of it. “Did you think I’d forget?”

Realization dawns on you, spreading across your face as you remember the first time you met Eris. That was years ago. You were both children and you’re quick to push it away, not wanting to let the innocence of the memory distract you as he wants it to. 

“You’re right,” you tell him. “I can’t fool you but I can make you feel pain.”

Your hand grips his wrist, yanking his hand away from your face. Your gaze darkens once more, gaining your resolve back. You underestimated him and Eris recognizes he needs to act quick. You won’t make the same mistake again. 

“Pain so heavy, it’s suffocating,” you say and Eris struggles to push against the pressure threatening to invade his senses. He takes a step back.

Eris suppresses his wince, masking the growing pain. Something that he's learned to do, given his history with pain. His amber eyes sweep over you from head to toe, tracing every curve and contour with an intensity that he knows leaves a burning sensation in their wake by the way your eyebrows furrow.

 Finally, his eyes meet yours once more. “Don’t tempt me with a good time.”

Your carefully donned mask finally falls and your power releases its heavy hold on him. He feels like he can breathe again. 

“What do you want?” you demand once more. 

There’s apprehension in your tone and he doesn’t need your empath abilities to know the effect he had on you. Your emotions are written all over your face. it’s strange, the way it sends warmth to swell in his chest. 

“Money? Land in the Court of Nightmares?”

“My silence is going to cost you a lot more than that,” Eris laughs with a smirk.

“My hand in marriage?” You continue, the words tumbling from your lips with a bitter taste. The thought of binding yourself to him, of sacrificing your freedom for the sake of secrecy, fills you with a sense of dread.

His smirk transforms into something more sinister, more fox-like. It sends a shiver racing down your spine and you begin to fear his answer.

“How about a bargain? I know your court is quite fond of those.”

You raise a brow in question, a silent invitation for him to voice his desires. To lay his cards on the table and reveal the true extent of his demands. Eris’s amusement is palpable. He can feel the desperation radiating off of you and he revels in it. Such a powerful fae like yourself is at his mercy.

“My silence in exchange for a favor,” he finally says.

“What kind of favor?”

“Well, if I told you, it would ruin the fun,” he replies, voice dripping with mischief.

“You and I have different definitions of fun,” you retort, a cold edge creeping into your tone.

“Suit yourself then. I should return to my father, fill him in.” Eris says and he begins to walk away. One..two.., he counts silently in his head.

“Wait!” you call out, your hand reaching out to grasp his, fingers closing around him with a desperate urgency. Three. 

“As long as you help keep my secrets, I will owe you a favor.”

“As long as I keep my mouth shut about your empath abilities, you will owe me a favor,” Eris specifies, catching on to you easily. He resists the urge to turn around to face you.

With a deep exhale, you utter a single word: “Deal.”

A warmth begins to spread from the point where your hands meet, a sensation that starts as a gentle tingling before intensifying into a searing heat. Eris feels the strength of the bargain as it etches itself onto his skin.

Turning back to face you, Eris allows his gaze to fall down to the wrist you still hold. He lets you pull back the cuff of his sleeve along with his coat up to his elbow. A delicate vine winds its way across his skin, adorned with leaves and blossoms that mirror the jasmines of the night court.

A hiss escapes you. It has Eris lifting his gaze. He catches the fleeting moment of vulnerability that flashes across your features as your hand instinctively flies to the back of your neck. He doesn’t have to ask to know that the same design is etched onto the back of your neck.

Yet, he’s filled with the desire to see it. To brush your hair aside, to touch the softness of your skin as he traces the contour of the tattoo with his fingertips.

Instead, he watches as your eyes momentarily glaze over, your mind seeming to drift elsewhere before snapping back to the present with a blink. You release his wrist from your grip and take a step back, as if suddenly aware of the dangerous proximity between you two.

“I have to go.”

You bend down to pick up the bloody handkerchief that he had already forgotten about, clenching it tightly into your fist. And then, you’re walking away from him. He wonders if you sense his gaze lingering on your wings, because in the blink of an eye, they vanish.

“What a shame,” Eris calls out after you. “The fun was just about to get started!”

You pause. Turning your head, Eris catches a glimpse of a cynical smile and he thinks you may just come back to him. But then, you’re lifting one of your hands to flick him off and he can't help but smile.

A twinkle dances in your eyes, shimmering like the stars above. The very same one that left him starstruck all those years ago…

**

years ago...

Eris sits underneath an oak tree, basking in the sunlight that filters through the interwoven leaves of fiery oranges and deep reds. He cradles a small bundle of fur to his chest, gently stroking the velvety length of its ears with his thumb. He uses his free hand to bring a bottle of milk to the tiny pup, a furrow creasing his brow as he observes the animal’s reluctance to feed.

“You need to eat,” he murmurs softly in concern and then even more quietly, he says, “you need to live.”

The pup lets out a small whimper in response, its frail and thin body sagging against him. Tears begin to burn Eris’s eyes, blurring his vision. Eris had stumbled upon the pup a couple of days ago when riding in the forests of Autumn alongside his father. He had followed the cries and whimpers, despite his father telling him not to. The bloodhound pup was left alone to die, leaving Eris to conclude that it must’ve been the runt of its litter. He knew the small animal was sick the moment he picked him up, closer to death than life itself.

Yet, he still begged his father to keep it as he was filled with the sudden urge to protect it. “Fine,” his father had agreed with a disgruntled huff. “Perhaps, it is time you learn what the world does to such weak beings.”

But Eris was determined.

He spent hours in the library with the sick pup cradled in his arms, searching for remedies to help. Nothing seemed to be working but he refused to allow his determination to wave. He wanted to–no, he needed to prove his father wrong.

To prove that something weak can become strong.

“Your pup is sad. She misses her mother.”

Eris startles at the voice. He had been so lost in his thought he hadn’t noticed that someone approached him. He lifts his gaze, blinking at the bright sun until his vision clears. There’s a young girl standing in front of him. She looks to be around his age.

She steps forward, blocking the glare of the sun from his view and takes a closer look at his pup. Eris merely stares at her. He recognizes her as the girl who arrived at the forest house, clinging onto High Lord Orion’s leg. He had been in this same exact spot when she arrived earlier, the scene still painted very vividly in his mind. Because the way she had looked up at her father with such adoration and to have it reflected back as he looked down at her brought a dull ache to his chest.

“And you need a salve for that nasty bruise of yours,” the girl adds.

Eris’s hand instinctively reaches up to his cheek and winces. The bruise is still fresh. A gift from his father. “I don’t need anything. I’m fine,” he replies with a glare.

“You’re in pain but okay,” the girl merely shrugs. She then settles herself across from him and Eris’s scowl deepens. 

“What are you doing?”

“My name is y/n,” she tells him.

“I didn’t ask.”

The girl remains unfazed by his grumpy demeanor. In fact, she seems to make herself even more comfortable, the autumn leaves crunching as she crosses her legs.  “May I?” She asks, gesturing toward the pup.

Eris reluctantly hands the small creature toward her and he doesn’t know why but he feels himself relax, tense shoulders drooping. He watches as the pup nestles its nose comfortably into her neck, letting out a soft whine. The girl giggles and Eris’s eyes widen.

“How did you–”

“Does she have a name?” She interrupts him.

“No,” Eris frowns, regret settling in. He had been too focused on keeping her alive to even consider a name.

The girl reaches out for the bottle in his hand, shifting the pup in her arms to feed her. Once again, the pup refuses to feed. A thoughtful look crosses over the girl’s face. “I think she’s allergic to the milk you’re feeding her,” she says as she hands the pup back to Eris.

Eris glances down at the bloodhound, considering the girl’s words. Perhaps, he should try feeding her goat’s milk instead. His thumb absentmindedly brushes along the pup’s head, stroking over the top of the ear.

“She likes when you do that,” the girl speaks again.

“What are you? An animal whisperer?” Eris teases but there’s an underlying seriousness to his tone.

“Something like that.”

“y/n!”

The girl’s head turns at the sound of her name being called. It’s her father. She turns back to Eris. “I have to go,” she says as she stands up, dusting off the skirt of her dress. “You should give her a name, though. I think it'd make her happy.”

Eris finds himself nodding, mind already racing with ideas on what to name the small pup in his arms. He puts those thoughts on a hold as he realizes there’s something he should do. His mother did teach him some manners, after all.

“y/n!" He calls after the girl.

She stops, turning to look back at him. Her brows furrow in question.

“Thank you,” Eris finally says.

A smile graces the girl’s lips. It lights up her entire face, reaching her eyes and Eris swears he sees a twinkle dancing within the depth of them. It leaves him momentarily dazzled. How can a simple smile be so bright?

“You're welcome.”

And as Eris watches you run back to your father, a name for the pup comes to mind.

[series masterlist]

a/n: any guesses as to what Eris named his first hound? Also, I didn't know what type of hound Eris has in canon so I just went with a bloodhound since they're good at scenting. Tthe flicking off scene was 100% taken from this scene of Maxton Hall because I loved it too much. You can just tell that was the moment James started to fall for Ruby, if he wasn't already.

series taglist: @emy1-9, @lady-of-tearshed, @5onedirection5

general tag list: @scooobies, @kennedy-brooke, @sillysillygoose444, @lilah-asteria

[madcap-nattery]

Molting in Reverse, for @titanrpg's Queer Wrath Jam

Interactive Version (on itch.io)

ID: A papercraft crayfish with an array of opalescent arms, glued to blue cardstock. The cardstock is folded in half, crunching the crayfish, a new shell and legs taped on top. It is folded in half again, accumulated claw tips and antennae sticking out under the final image of a crayfish tail.

Pasted-on text reads: "For one glorious moment I was free. All the shell and clinging pieces came off in a joyful fling of viscera / But in the end it was too hard to live like that, nerve endings trailing on the concrete. / So I packed it all back up and glued it down good."

[ask-gadzooks]

Opalescent Daydream appears seemingly from nowhere and stares directly into Zooks' soul. "Tell me about fire magic."

"Well the first thing everyone needs to know about fire magic is that it's no different than any other fire; that is, it can spread easily and accidentally. Even if you have your regular counterspells ready, magic fire has a habit of turning into regular fire, so in addition to your typical precautions when practicing new spells, you'll want a fire extinguisher nearby. Learning frost spells first is theoretically a nice bonus, but magic can sometimes fail, and it's good to have some good old-fashioned mundane fire equipment nearby just in case."

"Of course you could call a lot of different categories of spell 'fire' spells. There are spells that simply imitate fire as a way to proliferate or shed light, and there are spells that are simply designed to start fire; a burst of thermal energy that's highly concentrated but gone in an instant; or you could be talking about primal, elemental fire, which is more a study of heat energy than anything else."

"My advice is to start hanging out with some dragons! Many of them might not be the sort to study this sort of thing, but interacting with them can lead to many valuable insights that studying by yourself probably won't give you. For example; Fun fact! did you know a self-conscious dragon can have trouble lighting a flame? My theory is that it has some of the same connections to their emotions that a unicorn has to their own magic!"

[huramuna]

helaena targaryen - headcanons

my collection of helaena headcanons, ft. a drawing of her eyes & an excerpt of her claiming dreamfyre, under the cut! remember, these are just my personal headcanons and nothing here is fact. i just really love helaena and expanding on her character on how i see her is very fun.

Modern Helaena is an entomologist who also has an etsy where she sells elaborate taxidermied insect scenes.

Modern Helaena is a huge fan of the monsterverse and loves Mothra. 

Helaena is autistic. She is mostly touch averse with others but enjoys holding her children, they are her safe place and safety blanket.

Helaena and Aegon are mostly divorced in their everyday lives. They don't dine together nor sleep in the same chambers but there is one time in their lives where they enjoy being together. They enjoy taking the children flying with them on Dreamfyre and Sunfyre respectively. They don’t interact with each other much when they are flying, but being adjacent to one another on their dragons is enough.

Her crown that her mother presented to her in the Dragonpit coronation is inlaid with opals. She likes to look at it but doesn’t like wearing it.

Besides live bugs, she loves pinning dead bugs, putting them in display cases all around her room. 

She has a glass tank ‘vevarium’ in her solar with Armadillidae, aka isopods, aka pillbugs, aka rolly pollies. She requested Aemond’s assistance with making it as he has studied some of the sciences from citadel around insect environments. 

She has sectoral heterochromia. It is not noticed upon first look, but up close, a flecked segment of brown is integrated with the periwinkle iris in her left eye. it is a personification of her dreaming, the crack into her psyche, as well as one of the only things in her appearance she inherited from her mother, Alicent.

Her favorite bug is a Giant Jeweled beetle, which has a blue and teal iridescent sheen to it. It reminds her of Dreamfyre. 

Dreamfyre’s saddle was modified to have the image of a dragonfly on the front.

Helaena claimed and was claimed by Dreamfyre at age eight, although not riding until age twelve, whilst in the Dragonpit, likely following Aegon to go see Sunfyre. 

Dreamfyre rumbled from her nest, grumbling low as a warning. The dragon peeked her head out of the cave as Helaena and Aegon passed by. Her breaths ruffled the hem of the princess’ skirt, which was ironically, a teal-tinted blue and slightly reflective material.  Helaena turned her head and stopped in her tracks, as Aegon muddled on through the caves to where Sunfyre nested– he hadn’t even noticed his sister wasn’t behind him any longer.  “Hello,” Helaena murmured towards the rumbling mass. It was a sound of caution to others, a sign to stay away from the broody dragon. But to the princess, it was a soft and lilting song.  The cerulean dragon puffed a cloud of smoke, as if to gently deter the tiny interloper. But Helaena was, surprisingly, unphased in front of the beast. Pale periwinkle eyes roved over Dreamfyre’s scales, the ambient light of the torches casting opalescent sheens from within them.  “Oh, you’re like a beetle,” the princess whispered, tilting her head in unison with the dragon, who was inspecting her as she spoke. “You hold all of the colors… it only takes light to see them. Red, green, gold…”  Dreamfyre gave a small cooing noise— a different inflection than her previous warnings. It was notably more light and rhythmic, as if she were communicating with a baby dragon. Helaena, in turn, tried to mimic the noises, offering her hand.  As skin met scale, they both relaxed under one another’s touch; an ancient bond snapping into place.  “You are my favorite color… I love blue.” 

[the-familiars-union]

Greetings to all magicfolk! My name is Prairie, and as of recently I am the creator of the Wronged Familiars Union! My goal is to make sure that all wizards' and witches' familiars, as well as the pets, apprentices, unpaid interns, and sentient constructs are treated fairly and with respect!

HORSES DO NOT INTERACT

Join me as we fight for our rights to get treated fairly! Familiars deserve rights!

Union members:

Prairie, the creator of the Union and an ex-familiar of @hummingbird-hunter

@wizard-intern, (illegally), unpaid intern of @the-illegal-wizard-council

@the-studious-apprentice, apprentice of @grand-archmage

@skulkie, ....skulkie.

@riverthemagicwolf, apprentice of @transgender-wizard

Byron, familiar of @the-worse-wizard-council

@absurd-construct, sentient(?) construct of @the-gnomish-bastard

Pistakion, Meat Grinder, and E, sentient constructs of @opalescent-apples

@moonfableflor, apprentice of Pixie, Ash, Coal Coal, Honeycomb, and Gráhamcracker the Wizard Cats

@chaos-familiar, familiar of @monsterfucker-research-wizard and @aroace-wizard

[thecrimefiles]

Sweet Distraction

Author: The Crime Files

Summary: Gibbs takes matters into his own hands after you unintentionally distract the team.

Main Character(s): Leroy Jethro Gibbs and Anthony DiNozzo

DiNozzo was staring at you with an intense jealousy as he watched the hard candy slide into your mouth, tongue swirling around the crystallised sugar. “Oh yeah,” a quiet moan falling from his lips. “Yeah, just like that.” His voice was barely a whisper as his opalescent eyes began to melt into sinful lagoons of lust.

Completely unaware of the hypnotic power you held over him, your attention was focused on the case file as Gibbs comes striding into the bullpen, holding a cup of coffee. “We got a case?” Asks the marine, taking a sip of the bitter liquid. Your eyes meet his as the sound of his hand colliding with the back of DiNozzo’s head echoes around the room.

“Uh, yeah…” you glance between the two men, confused by their interaction. “Dead petty officer down in Norfolk.”

You begin reading the details of the investigation off the screen before noticing Gibbs’ intimate proximity behind you. Gently taking the remote from your hand, he leans in closer before mentioning, “that’s very distracting.”

A quiet chuckle tumbles from his lips as you turn towards him with a perplexed expression. Raising his eyebrows suggestively as you continue to suck on the lollipop, he pulls it out of your mouth with a soft pop as you lick the honeyed juices off your lips, not once looking away from those heavenly deep blue eyes.

“Grab your gear.” He says in a low voice as his gaze lingers a moment longer on your lips before grabbing the case file and heading towards MTAC.

[deliriousbug]

I was thinking on reader finding predaking after an autobot battle or while he was doing a task for the Decepticons and reader helps him or feeds him. Thanks to that interaction Predaking keeps visiting reader and reader talks to the transformers more and more until it grows something more. Especially with reader telling Predaking how he makes him feel like an average person and doesn't make him feel different.

Predaking hated to admit that the Autobots bettered him in their last fight, but his bleeding and broken frame told all. He refused to return to the Decepticons when he was so vulnerable, so instead he lurked about in a patch of woods not far from where the battle had ended. He was in his predacon form, licking his wounds, when he caught a strange organic scent on the wind blowing towards him from the east. He whirled, snarling, and found himself face to face with a human. You fell on your ass and threw your hands up as if that would protect you. Predaking sniffed the wind again and knew you were alone. As painful as it was, he transformed and knelt before you, more curious than anything. 

This was his first interaction with a human. You were so small and fragile yet you did not run from him. You stood and brushed yourself off once it became clear that Predaking wasn’t going to attack. You looked up at him with wide wonder-filled eyes. Then your gaze traveled down his frame to his wounds.

“You’re hurt,” you realized aloud. Your expression scrunched up with concern. You searched out his optics again. “Can you speak?”

Predaking nodded slowly. 

“What happened to you?” You took a step closer. 

“A battle,” Predaking said. He surprised himself by speaking, since he’d hidden both his voice and bipedal form from the Decepticons. “A battle in a war which is not mine,” he admitted, “and I am only a weapon for others to abuse.” He growled low, angry at himself for being too weak to leave the Cons. 

You frowned. “I want to help you.”

Predaking tilted his helm, genuinely confused. “Why help a monster in the woods, little one?”

“Because that monster is hurt and alone,” you said. 

After that day, Predaking made a point to travel back to those same woods every week. He often found you there alone, enjoying the peace and nature You were what he looked forward to most when he was stuck playing pet for Starscream and weapon for Megatron. Shockwave was the only one who seemed to take interest in Predaking but still it was not enough to make him feel like less than a beast. When he was with you though, he felt like his own mech. You two would talk for hours about life on Cybertron and life on Earth. He could listen to you explain your hyperfixations for days and never get bored. You helped him understand human culture and some days the two of you would just lie in the sun and watch the clouds. 

Predaking yearned to be with you every day, if only it meant he could always feel so at peace. 

Months passed and Predaking had no words strong enough to describe how he felt about your. So one day he decided to bring you a gift. It was a shard of pure and unfiltered green energon. This was a rare form of energon, and he had taken it straight from Shockwave’s lab. It was stunning, and opalescent, always glittering. 

When he explained what it was and gave it to you, you blushed an adorable shade of red and smiled so big it melted his spark. You looked up at him then and gave voice to the feelings that had been swelling in both of you. Somehow, you knew all the right words to describe this bubbly warmth and constant comfort. Predaking was surprised when you even said that he made you feel like just another average person, because that is exactly what you did for him. It was astonishing how similarly the two of you felt, and when you finished your confession Predaking scooped you up and cradled you against his chassis. You hugged him as best as you could and Predaking’s spark pulsed happily. 

[outofangband]

clothing, appearance and body headcanon for Eönwë, if you want to?

From this headcanon ask game here!

Related post

I had fun with world building for this! Gladly accepting them!!

-Many raiments worn by the Ainur are made from no physical material but are woven from colors and textures observed by the individual being. Many effects can be created that are near impossible to create in textiles though indeed many textile crafts among the Eldar of Aman aspire to create these effects; shimmering or ripples, iridescents, pearlescent, opalescent, radiance, moving images and changing colors, effects of things growing or time passing.

-Eönwë cloaks himself primarily in sky blues, in shimmering whites, and dark gray armor. His ceremonial armor is golden.

-Even upon the ground, his eyes are the eyes of a bird, and he can assess large areas in little time.

-His feathers are white and bronze and are visible to some extent in all his forms, especially the crest around his neck.

-Physical clothing is worn on occasion however, especially by the Maiar. Physical jewelry is more commonly worn. Silk is cultivated throughout Valinor and is sometimes worn by the Maiar.

-Eönwë changes his form less often than many of his kin but he can change it swiftly and to great effect especially in battle.

-When interacting with the elves outside of battle his talons are lessened or not present, at least with his hands. His feet are nearly always taloned but these are covered by his robes.

[stims-for-introjects]

Welcome to stims-for-introjects! This blog is run by Opalescent.

This post will be edited as needed.

ABOUT US: Bodily 18 Y/O ★ He/It/Snz/Space ★ MascNonbinary, Opalian, BPDGay, Aroacespec, Ambiamorous ★ c-DID System, Introj Heavy ★ Bundlrs

HOST: Leon ★ 24 Y/O ★ He/It ★ Transman, MLM ★ heiii halloo ^__^

RULES: No NSFW. If you need something tagged, please DM us. Also, unless you are fine with any theme, please make sure to specify any color/theme/stims you may want. Do not tag any of these as anything other than introject related (Kin, ID, Etc). Non-introjects may interact freely (liking/reblogging/commenting), but do keep in mind that this is an introject-specific blog.

BYI: This blog may be inconsistent, as it depends on our motivation (or lack thereof).

DNI: Basic DNI. No Pro/Neu Endogenics/Nontraumagenic Origins, Radqueers, Etc. Also, if you interact with discourse a lot, keep it away from us. We have our own stances on things, but we do not care about discourse at all. Overall, just don't be a dick, and don't involve us in random shit we do not give a fuck about.

TAGS: stims for introjects blog - anything posted on the blog for ease of access ★ opalescent says things - anything we post that is not stimboard related ★ requested - any requested stimboards ★ not requested - most likely posted for introjects in our system

[aquaquadrant]

Is there anyone who likes to be around opel or at least someone who opel has some attachment to

wether the connection is that she doesn’t want to kill the individual out of some form of fondness or because she loves to torment them the most and they are her favorite target or because they live close by and the two interact very often resulting in opel having a lasting impression of them

sadly, no one comes to mind. opalescent will just attack and kill any player she comes across (though not without playing with them first). very few hels players would care to try and befriend her unless they were foolish enough to believe they could control her. either way, it wouldn’t last long.

[wtowingedtragicobsidian]

ADA Sigma Masterpost

General Design Notes and Headcanons (not limited to ADA design)

Gender: Nonbinary; goes by they/them (or other gender-neutral forms of address) but doesn’t really care what/how people refer to them

Build/body type: Androgynous, rectangular but delicate (think middle school boys before puberty sets in properly when they are just all arms and legs with little definition), drooped shoulders

Height: They are actually 5’6” (the heels give them 3 inches and then the hair even more, so they come across a lot taller than they really are)

Design Details (not necessarily limited to ADA design)

Ponytail and coat are sparkly on the underside (refence to original waistcoats design)

Delicate glasses, 3 links down the glasses chain there is a sigma (math symbol)

Bullet earrings (This is canon to me)

Fancy-ass tie tie to match hair parting

Tie clip they use to pull back their bangs on late nights

Has two guns in holsters on their back (lord knows they need them)

Waistcoat got shorter and has hardware on the ends

Sweater has thumbholes

Open flare pants with double buttons

Mid-calf stockings held up with sock garters

Coat is backless under caplet to allow easy access to firearms

Nails are painted a opalescent periwinkle, they match the little mother of pearl diamonds on the earrings/glasses chain

Diamond shaped face but with a youthful softness to it, delicate facial features

Straight shortish brows

Heavily lidded half-diamond shaped eyes the color of a pastel sunset (canon gave me too many color options so I chose them all)

Diamond shaped nose

Thin lips/small mouth perpetually in a slight pout

Dimond shaped catchlights in hair/eyes (can you tell I’m going hard on the diamond motif yet)

Due to their combination of facial features they either look sleepy or mildly exasperated most of the time (Ima Sigma resting-bitch-face truther and I cannot lie)

_---__-----_--__--___---_------------_--_--__---_----------____----_____

ADA Sigma

Position: Accountant/Archivist

Despite not being a field operative they often do research for cases. Their ability also makes them an obvious choice for field recon/intel gathering, made more appealing by them not being a well-known ADA operative and the personability they gained form running the sky casino (seriously they are one of the only people in the agency who has normal social skills). They are frequently dragged via nagging or trickery into these extra responsibilities by the rest of the cast(Dazai or Ranpo), much to their annoyance.

ADA Relationship Dynamics

Sigma<->Ranpo: friends, research cases together

Sigma->Ranpo: admires but that awe is often trumped by the mild annoyance at being dragged into cases, he forces them to hold their ground in difficult cases

Ranpo->Sigma: one of the first to support them joining the agency because he saw them as a valuable asset, also ended up valuing them as a friend, teases them and drags them into cases but will occasionally share his sweets with them(he cares about them)

Sigma->Fukazawa: deeply respects but doesn’t know how to interact with him yet (they are the awkward middle child who is quite but eager to live up to his expectations)

Fukazawa->Sigma: quite pleased to have adopted another child, knows they can get a bit overwhelmed but trusts they will do well (asks Kunikida to keep his eye on them for that reason), grants them access to his personal library because he knows they love to learn

Sigma->Yosano: healthy respect(fear),(at time of joining does not know Yosano’s ability saved their life, once they find this out they become extremely grateful and soften towards her a bit)

Yosano->Sigma: thinks they would make an excellent drinking buddy, trying to figure out how to make that happen without intimidating them more, (eventually finds out they view her ability in a non-gruesome light and feels extremely touched/flattered)

Sigma->Kunikida: appreciates the structure he provides to the agency (and sympathizes with his valiant attempts to wrangle Dazai) but finds him a bit overwhelming

Kunikida->Sigma: annoyed that Fukazawa picked up yet another stray but genuinely wants them to do well so looks out for them in his own high stung way, works with them on their firearm proficiency

Sigma->Tanizaki siblings: finds them nice, if a bit strange

Tanizaki->Sigma: treats them nicely because he knows the ADA is a weird bunch and it can be overwhelming to be the new guy, acts a as a bit of an anchor of normalcy in that way

Naomi->Sigma: interestingly does not bristle around them, finds them charming and wants to be their friend, does their nails

Sigma->Kenji: wonders what they did to be in the presence of someone so warm and wholesome(has yet to realize that are terrifying, when they do they are surprisingly unfrazzled and just take him to get some food, they've seen worse)

Kenji->Sigma: is just his usual kind self to them (completely oblivious of his sunshine effect absolutely baffling them nearly to tears every time meet)

Sigma->Kyouka: sees her like a small kitten with sharp claws, finds her cute/sweet but can be caught a little off-guard by her at times causing them to worry for either themselves of her, empathizes with her past and because of that wants her to experience joy so subtly watches of for her, they go and get crepes together

Kyouka->Sigma: not super close but knows they care about her, doesn’t think they need to (does not verbalize this, lest the crepe outings cease), thinks they are kind of naive and finds that amusing

Sigma<->Atsushi: friends, bond over a shared sense of protectiveness for Kyouka and annoyance at Dazai, like to confide (complain) to each other

Sigma->Atsushi: admires his tenacity, empathizes with his backstory, fascinated by the resilience of the goodness in his heart, grateful that he was one of the first to validate them joining the agency

Atsushi->Sigma: teaches them how to sass Dazai, first to pipe up and defend them when necessary, complains about Akutagawa to them

Sigma->Dazai: complex feelings, grateful for recommending them to the agency (and in doing so giving them a new purpose) but he still makes them a little uncomfortable, when they eventually realize Dazai’s thank you is genuine they do not know what to think (but it does ease at least some of the tension they feel around him), goes and complains to Atsushi about it to help process(Atsushi in his infinite wisdom (ability to see though some Dazai’s bullshit and meet it with disarming earnestness) of course is the one to suggest he might have been honest to begin with)

Dazai->Sigma: the other most common culprit for dragging them into cases, teases the shit outa them (does not know how to say sorry for what he played a part in putting them through, does not even  realize that he probably should, some of the teasing is defiantly a manifestation from this subconscious dissonance), does however say thank you to them for what they did in Meursault, sees a little of himself in them in their search for something to care for/purpose to exist(does feel some sort of responsibility(maybe even care) towards them, but that’s a little too soft and genuine of an emotion for him to process so he just doesn’t)

[viennasbigsausage]

Extraterrestrial - Chapter 3 (Liz's pov)

This house isn't haunted like Elliot thinks it is. It's magic, but like, dark magic. It's evil...kind of like it's lurking. Even though it's a stationary house. Anyways, there's something seriously wrong with its magic. It used to case these projections made out of...gold sparkles..? It's hard to explain, but the images, or projections, are translucent and opalescent. When I poke them, they burst into gold flecks that aren't tangible. Then, the flecks dissipate. It used to show me this white cat often. The cat was playful, and it could interact with me. Like it was alive, but only on one end of the mirror that seems to be this magic. Slowly, I started to see less of the cat and started seeing this little girl always peeking behind the walls and giggling when I spotted her.

But...

Something really bad happened. And of course, I couldn't tell Elliot, because he'd freak out and make me stop searching the house.

But I think I saw the little girl hanging in the shower last night.

[malottie]

15 19 20 24 25 26 29 30 38

❤️

that is a long ask! <3

15: what do you think when you see "home"?

honestly, i don't really know. maybe it's because my first language, french, doesn't have the concept of "home" itself, having that meaning ascribed to "house" or "one's place", things like that. maybe it's because i don't feel at home in my own body, and so cannot think about home. i know how important of a concept it is, the idea of home, but it feels sort of. empty to me. don't know why

19: favorite thing about the day

i'd say the bright sky. be it the color of ash, of peach, of sapphire, it is always lovely. do you like the color of the sky? opalescent, cerulean, violet; from summer-dawn orange to winter-dusk marine blue.

20: favorite thing about the night

the peace and rest. the dark, and the stars it invites; the quasi-silence, and the serenity it brings; the slow veil of the gods of sleep and dream.

which is why i hate big cities. to quote myself, " ... the city that humms the eerie tune of 'sleep is for the weak and the world shall never stop', blinded by the concrete and the cars and the streetlights that scream of 'the dark is to be conquered, and we shall kill the night itself too'."

24: one thing you're proud of about yourself

giving myself time. i don't have much to be proud of yet, and it's fine. i'm giving myself the time to heal and to grow properly, not rushing, not pushing myself, not being ashamed or angry at the fact i'm getting better very slowly. beside, i'm only 18. i'm just a baby

25: favorite season and why

i'm spring/fall team. summer is always way too hot, but the barrenness of winter isn't very fun, nor good for the spirit. spring is the best because we have flowers and trees springing to life, we have the sun but with fresh, moving air. it is the rebirth of the cycle of life. not that autumn isn't nice too

26: favorite color and why

that's the good stuff!! #9153ff. this

not purple. not violet. not perrywinkle or whatever. this. to the tee. changing the rgb values just a bit makes it worse, in every case.

i discovered it with the game "tomorrow won't come for those without ⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️⬜️", made by etherane, the person who also made Hello Charlotte, which lives rent free in my head. it is the most perfect, most beautiful shade of purple. hue of the gods, truly.

29: what do you do when you're sad?

honestly, i kinda just crumble. my coping mechanisms are centered around NOT feeling the sadness (i know it's not healthy, i'm trying okay? T-T) so when i DO feel the bad emotions it's closer to a dam breaking over your head than being rained on. i just sort of get splattered on the ground for a while and then i get back to business as usual. in these moments i have zero energy and zero wants so i don't. really DO anything

30: one thing that never fails to make you happier

talking to people. it came as a surprise at first; i'm not really a people person, whole neuridivergent stuff and all. but when i talk with people with whom the communication struggles can be overcome, or people in the same situation as me, social interaction can feel nice. if i enjoy someone's presence, just exchanging a few words can turn my "everything is bad and everything hurts and i don't want anything or anyone, not even myself"s into "actually i love people and all of it is worth it and the whole world is scripture"s

38: favorite song at the moment

i don't really have any one song i listen to on repeat rn. i could say Sdorica-The Story Unfolds. less recently it's been Zoltraak, from the anime Frieren

[paperanddice]

Mighty lords among the agathion, draconals are greatly removed from mortal needs and affairs. They serve gods directly, or even higher ideals such as the needs of the celestial realms as a whole, focusing their attention on extremely long term plans to sustain the balance of existence. They will often advise or direct other agathion to action, but rarely move themselves unless the situation is a dire emergency that they cannot avoid. Even so, they would rather empower a team of agathion, or even mortals to confront the problem, and keep their focus on higher matters.

This attitude often puts them at odds with shorter lived beings, even such mortals as elves. Elves may spend years in contemplation of the correct course of action, but draconal will spend centuries carefully arranging pieces on a game board larger than most people can even understand, and their slowness to act as a result can be infuriating. Above that, they have a strong belief in cycles of life and death, rot and growth, and even good and evil, so mass death or the potential rise of a great evil aren't necessarily enough to spur them into action. While they attempt to act for the good of all of existence, their view of it is greatly removed from that of the average soul.

Standing an average of 11 feet tall, draconals look like a regal half-dragon humanoid of some kind. Their colors are very different from that of the chromatic and metallics that most are familiar with, though there can be a good deal of variety in each color. Yellow may be a glittering gold, or a mustard yellow, while white could be chalk white, metallic silver, or opalescent. Each color represents a certain domain the draconal interacts with, and other colors may exist and just haven't been tracked. Black represents the sky, stars, immortality and leadership. Green represents wood, plants, and nature. Red represents fire, light, and wards against bad luck and tend to be the most aggressive draconals. White represents brightness, fulfillment, metal, mourning, and purity, and are often protective. Yellow represents earth, oracles, stone, and good luck.

Originally from the Pathfinder Bestiary 2. This post came out a week ago on my Patreon. If you want to get access to all my monster conversions early, as well as access to my premade adventures and other material I’m working on, consider backing me there!

5th Edition

Draconal Large celestial (agathion), neutral good Armor Class 21 (natural armor) Hit Points 270 (20d10 + 160) Speed 40 ft., fly 120 ft. Str 26 (+8) Dex 15 (+2) Con 27 (+8) Int 24 (+7) Wis 24 (+7) Cha 23 (+6) Saving Throws Str +14, Con +14, Wis +13, Cha +12 Skills Arcana +13, History +13, Insight +13, Medicine +13, Nature +13, Perception +13, Persuasion +12, Religion +13 Damage Immunities lightning, bludgeoning, piercing and slashing damage from nonmagical attacks not made with silvered weapons Damage Resistances thunder Senses blindsight 60 ft., darkvision 120 ft., passive Perception 17 Languages Celestial, Common, Draconic, Infernal, speak with animals, Sylvan Challenge 20 (25000 XP) Dragon's Wisdom. Choose one of the following colors. The draconal has immunity to the damage type associated with that color, and its Bite, Claw, and Breath Weapon actions all deal damage of that type. It also has access to specific spells based on its scale color, as noted in its Spellcasting action: • Black or Red: fire • Green or White: cold • Yellow: acid Protective Aura. The draconal is surrounded at all times by a 20-foot diameter globe of protective magic. Fiends cannot enter this area by nonmagical means, and have disadvantage on attack rolls against targets within the area. Creatures of the draconal's choice within the area can't be charmed, frightened, or possessed by fiends. Additionally, any spell of 7th leel or lower cast from outside the area can't affect creatures or objects within it, even if the spell is cast using a higher level spell slot. Such a spell can target creatures or objects within the barrier, but the spell has no effect on them. Similarly, the area within the barrier is excluded from the areas affected by such spells. This effect can be dispelled as a 9th level spell, but the draconal can restart it as an action. Regeneration. The draconal regains 15 hit points at the start of its turn if it has at least 1 hit point. Actions Multiattack. The draconal makes three attacks: one with its Bite and two with its Claws. Bite. Melee Weapon Attack: +14 to hit, reach 10 ft., one target. Hit: 17 (2d8+8) piercing damage plus 14 (4d6) acid, cold, or fire damage (based on the draconal's scale color). Claw. Melee Weapon Attack: +14 to hit, reach 5 ft., one target. Hit: 11 (1d6+8) slashing damage plus 10 (3d6) acid, cold, or fire damage (based on the draconal's scale color). Breath Weapon (Recharge 5-6). The draconal exhales elemental energy in a 120-foot long line that is 5 feet wide. Each creature of the draconal's choice in that line must make a DC 22 Dexterity saving throw, taking 73 (21d6) damage on a failed save, or half as much damage on a successful save. The damage type is determined by the draconal's scale color. Spellcasting. The draconal casts one of the following spells, requiring no material components and using Wisdom as the spellcasting ability (spell save DC 21): At will: bane (Yellow only), bless (Black only), control water (Green only), cure wounds (as a 4th level spell), detect thoughts, dispel magic (as a 5th level spell), freedom of movement (White only), greater restoration, gust of wind, identify, light, mage hand, message, protection from poison, shield other (Red only) 3/day each: earthquake (Yellow only), heal, holy aura (White only), incendiary cloud (Black only), plane shift, storm of vengeance (Green only), sunburst (Red only) Reactions Dragon's Salvation. When a creature within 5 feet of the draconal would take damage, it can cast cure wounds using its Spellcasting on that creature before it takes the damage. To do so, the draconal must see the creature and the source of damage. Legendary Actions

The draconal can take 3 legendary actions, choosing from the options below. Only one legendary action can be used at a time and only at the end of another creature's turn. The draconal regains spent legendary actions at the start of its turn. Activate Aura. The draconal activates or deactivates its Protective Aura Teleport. The draconal magically teleports, along with any equipment it is wearing or carrying, up to 120 feet to an unoccupied space it can see. Cast Spell (Costs 2 Actions). The draconal casts one of its at will spells.

13th Age

Draconal  Large 12th level leader [celestial]  Initiative: +15 Elemental Claws and Teeth +17 vs. AC (3 attacks) - 40 damage plus 20 elemental damage (based on the draconal’s dragon’s wisdom). C: Breath Weapon +17 vs. PD (1d3+1 nearby or far away enemies in a group or a rough line) - 80 damage (based on the draconal’s dragon’s wisdom). Limited Use: 1d3 times per battle, never two turns in a row. Aura of Protection: The draconal and all nearby allies gain a +4 bonus to all defenses against demons, and cannot be affected by first, third, or fifth level spells (even if cast from a higher level spell slot). Dragon’s Wisdom: Each draconal has resist damage 18+ against one type of damage, and deals that type of damage with its elemental claws and teeth and breath weapon. It also gains an additional effect. Pick from the following list for each draconal: • Black: fire, and each of the draconal’s allies can add the escalation die to one attack during the battle. • Green: cold, and the draconal and its allies can swim. While the draconal’s allies are in or nearby water, they take no damage from missed attacks. • Red: fire and as a quick action the draconal can shield one ally. This effect lasts until the draconal shields a different ally, or chooses to end it as a quick action. The shielded ally gains a +2 bonus to AC and PD and takes half damage from any attack against it that rolls a natural odd attack roll, but whenever it takes half damage from this effect the draconal takes damage equal to the ally. • Yellow: acid, and 1/battle each as an interrupt action, the draconal’s allies can add the escalation die to all defenses against a single attack. • White: cold, and the draconal and its allies are immune to being stuck or hampered. Flier. Teleport: As a move action, when the escalation die is even, the draconal can teleport to a nearby or far away location it can see. Resist Lightning 18+. AC 27 PD 24 MD 25 HP 700

[aweinspiredcreations]

Description of Bubbles

The colourful hues of iridescent rainbows within dimensional honeycomb chemistry, a ethereal glimpse of effervescence and gleaming opalescence; orientations of kaleidoscope limerence a whimsical character of beautiful euphoria.

The elemental clash and energetic fusions during fizzle interactions of the microscopic structures like cell reconnections when nature collides in its natural rapture summoning circular pockets to surface, its foam vibrancy spectrum within sensational geometric arrangement.

~ In Awe ~

[the-masked-ram]

The Unseen and Those Forgotten- Chapter Three

AN: Because @crowned-peony asked for this update CW: CW: Not SFW, Dabi x Fem Reader, Hades!Dabi, Mentions of Ancient Greek Lore, Based on Persephone and Hades, War, Pre-Apocalypse, Plot Heavy, Slow Burn,  Violence   ----

Chapter Three: Making Nice with the Newbies Dabi tapped his fingers against the pedestal, frowning at the shimmer of the heavens surrounding him. He remembered once when Olympus had belonged to the old gods. It never looked like this back in his day, didn’t have this sterile and pristine look to it. His lips pulled back from his teeth. How did they not feel like complete filth just existing in this place? It made his skin crawl and the desire to spit upon stupid shiny statues gripped him tightly. Even the thrones, which the six current deities sat in, were a confusing mix of gold and opalescent white, it made Dabi nauseous. He wasn’t someone that belonged in Olympus anymore, let alone somewhere so pure. It made him feel tainted, and he didn’t need any help feeling anymore damaged than he already was.   Now it was in the hands of the new world’s deities, born anew and ruined all at the same time and fuck did they keep struggling to do their jobs. He rolled his eyes as the other Grecians went about kowtowing to the new gods. He was the only one that stood without even considering bowing to them. Among the five of them, however, only Nike (Bakugou as his new name was) and Shouto (Boreas) kneeled. Which would have been expected in their times. Hygieia who he now knew as Chisaki, and Ate who now took the mantel of Shigaraki, only swept into bows at the waist.            Dabi’s lip curled in derision as one of the gods spoke up, “Please rise, we did not invite you here to have you subservient to us. This problem is too great to have any power struggles present.” They sounded so high and mighty, when literally they were slaves to the humans’ thoughts, just like he was and had been even more so in the past. The looks he got from his brethren could probably have frozen him on the spot, he couldn’t stop himself from winking at them in response. “Right, well what did the fledglings call us here for?” Dabi asked, inspecting his fingernails with feigned interest, smirking at the hisses of annoyance that surrounded him. “Ah Hades, we’ve heard of you,” the one who spoke was nothing more than a shimmering yellow light in humanoid shape. “Oh? I hope it was good things,” he narrowed his eyes, though the mirth shown through knowing everything they’d heard had been far from flattering. “Hm,” the deity across from him hummed, contemplatively. “I suppose that depends on your views. But I assume now you are the ruler of this pantheon.” Dabi sneered, grunting noncommittally. It wasn’t a job he’d should ever have had. Not that he was truly complaining, he was the one with the most strength, and the leader of a handful of gods who never interacted wasn’t a bad gig. “Good, then we can start,” a shimmering set of fingers were pressed together as the god seemed to think. “Well might as well be blunt. An apocalyptic scale event is about to happen, but the end of the world isn’t supposed to happen for another millennia and the humans are still supposed to have a chance to change the true event. This event is not and will not happen. As their gods we will protect them.” Dabi frowned before his shoulders started shaking and a laugh took over his entire body, causing him to double over. The entity across from him paused in its speech. Once again, the others of his blood hissed at him to be quiet. “We aren’t their gods anymore,” he snapped, his laughing stopping suddenly and his eyes growing cold. “They forsook us for you. Why do you need our help?” “This is no laughing matter Hades,” the god shifted to lean over their lap, annoyance clear in their posture even without a face. “Without the humans all of you will disappear, just like us. Only those from the ancient times can find the human who harbors the key and only she can wake the Titans.” Dabi let his eyes fall shut and he sighed, like this entire situation was filled with stupidity, “That’s impossible, the one who was entrusted with the key to Tartarus was my wife, Persephone, and she’s been… dead for centuries.” “Yes, she has, but even gods get second lives dear Hades,” they said calmly. He swore then that the world stopped, his breath hitching painfully in his chest. He felt lost, alone, and powerless, like he wasn’t surrounded by some of the most powerful beings on the planet, like he wasn’t one of those most powerful beings. Dabi had never felt this out of control, even when she’d died, even when he’d lost his powers. Everything he knew had been snatched from him at that moment and his arrogance faded. He looked at the shimmering shape in front of him with, dare he say, hope. “What is your plan?” he whispered; voice hoarse. “We need to find the key’s human body,” the god said seeming to sigh. “It won’t be easy. And the process of waking its past energy may take a toll on its mortal form in the beginning.” Dabi’s nails sank into the meat of his palm, the desire to snarl and deny them bubbling up within his chest painfully, blue flames licking at the backs of his hands. He needed to calm down, he needed to control himself, if he didn’t, he could fuck this all up. If it was true, that Persephone had been reborn and was lying dormant somewhere then it was just as important that he helped her live through the wakening. This apocalypse could kill her, would kill her. And he wouldn’t lose her again, she was his. She wasn’t allowed to leave his side, not the first time and certainly not a second. He’d see to it himself. “Count me in,” he said. Shouto nodded, Bakugou grumbled but didn’t argue, Shigaraki, and Chisaki nodded, silently filled the room with their miniscule auras. Everyone supported him, another of their family was down in the human realm, alone and ignorant, they had to find her.