#peacock feather ribbon

[angryducktimemachine]

I think it’s so funny how i went from “i don’t get why people would dress up, what is so fun about it, i am just like whatever” and now i am like “i am going grocery shopping so i will put on a fancy little waistcoat and spend 5 minutes in front of the mirror deciding on the colour of the collar ribbon to go with it”

[felassan]

The Art of Dragon Age: The Veilguard Deluxe edition (DA:TV artbook bonus stuff). [source, via]

"The deluxe edition features: - An elegant foil-stamped slipcase and cover - Gilded pages - A ribbon book marker - Two lithographic art prints housed in a sleek portfolio" [source]

It looks like the two lithographic prints are this mural (which is from the 2020 TGA teaser iirc) and this art of Solas with a wolf by Matt Rhodes (which is from the Gamescom 2020 video iirc). The packaging's color theme-ing is black and gold, reminding of this version (that pic is from 2021) of the game's branding/color theme-ing, and also of course bringing to mind the Golden/Black City. the Golden/Black City was featured on the vinyl cover arts.

The knife here on this cover looks like the 'blue lyrium' [?] dagger, but also simultaneously not like it.

This artbook cover one is more gnarled in appearance and the 'ring' of the handle isn't complete (the way the 'broken' handle could almost be an Evanuris headpiece-shape... if it was a bit more symmetrical, it would look like Elgar'nan's headpiece).

It has extra spiky bits protruding off it too and it looks like something is growing on it. Maybe this is what happens if/when the blue [lyrium?] dagger becomes red (Blighted)? because this gnarled kinda vibe reminds me a bit of Meredith's sword Certainty in DA2, and of that body horror way in which red lyrium growth looks on people. It also reminds me of the tendrils of Blight corruption on walls and the ground and stuff in DA:TV screenshots, and the gnarled red lyrium darkspawn we've seen (look at this darkspawn's back for example).

Or maybe there's simply more than one dagger? There's two rising Evil Gods.

in the background of that image is the now-familiar geometric patterning with the concentric rings around the outside that tend to represent the Veil, and also the multiple almooost-overlapping circles/spheres inside that is suggestive of an eclipse* (something which we can see in the DA:TV screenshot with the dragon, which keeps coming up, which speaks to a lot of the pertinent imagery/symbolism e.g. Elgar'nan overthrowing his father the Sun and darkening the sky, and something which to me makes sense in a Witcher-style Conjunction of the Spheres kinda vibe, multiple realms colliding, like, if you tear down the Veil, you're bringing two 'bodies' or realms together to 'overlap' once again - the Fade and the waking world). [*in the 'eclipse' link there it's just searching the word on my blog btw, since I've banged on and on about that lots before and I don't wanna repeat myself loads in this post hhh]. the placement of the dagger over that design and what it represents makes sense; as we saw in the gameplay reveal video, the dagger was part of Solas' ritual to tear down the Veil/move the Evanuris prison.

On this cover, we can see two eyeballs in two of the corners (the eyes remind me of the Inquisition hairy eyeball, the eye motifs cropping up around Lucanis, Pride, and the Fade peacock feather/eye motif [image from this post]). in the other two corners is a sword that reminds again of Certainty. Meredith brandishing the sword is part of this DA:TV mural in the bottom left, underneath Ghil. surely not a coincidence. :D maybe a Certainty-like sword is the final corrupted form of the dagger, or one of them? in TN, the red lyrium idol changed shape enough that a ritual-blade sprang from its base.

the background of this middle cover also contains triangles, reminding of ancient elven artifacts and ancient elven magic-tech (like with Bellara, the Veil Jumpers etc) and the recurring triangle symbols in DA art around Fade/Veil/magic-y stuff (example from the Tevinter Nights map below).

The cover on the right has more geometric patterns, circles, rings etc. (all these patterns remind of the art in the vinyl booklet btw). and, in the center, the eye again. 👁️

[doodle-pops]

Celebrating Autumn with the Lords of Gondolin

Synopsis: In which you introduce the Lords (and Turgon) to partake in many festive fall activities.

Hosting an autumn-themed party in Gondolin had been your idea, and somehow you managed to get King Turgon and all his Lords on board. The courtyard of Gondolin was dressed in golds, reds, oranges, with wreaths of autumn leaves hanging from pillars and pumpkins scattered around. The air was crisp, and everything had a touch of warmth, from the fire pits dotting the grounds to the hot spiced cider ready for everyone to try.

It wasn’t easy—throwing modern human ideas into elven culture wasn’t exactly the most natural thing—but you made it work. And now, Gondolin’s lords were about to see what a true autumn celebration looked like.

Glorfindel was the first to arrive, grinning as he eyed the pumpkin-carving station you had set up. You told him it was a classic autumn tradition, and he had jumped in without hesitation, picking up a knife and carving some elaborate design that looked like it belonged in a museum. “Let’s see if the others can keep up,” he said, obviously too proud of his creation already. You just laughed.

Egalmoth, with his flair for all things colourful, was immediately drawn to the garlands of autumn leaves you’d hung around. “You have a talent for decoration,” he remarked, already considering how he could replicate this in his own house. You had to stop him from adding more feathers to the mix. “Keep your peacock tendencies in check, Egalmoth. This is autumn, not a bird festival.”

Rog and Galdor rolled in together, both eyeing the apple-bobbing station you’d set up. Rog, ever the competitive one, looked ready to dive in face-first. Galdor, on the other hand, seemed more hesitant, probably thinking about how undignified it would look to dunk his head in a bucket. “Come on, Galdor,” you teased, “I’ve seen you charge into battle with trolls. Surely a few apples won’t scare you.” That earned a hearty laugh from Rog, who immediately took up the challenge.

Ecthelion was, unsurprisingly, more interested in the autumn music you’d selected. The harps and flutes blended with the sounds of crackling fires and rustling leaves, setting the perfect mood. He wandered over to the musicians, offering a few pointers. “Of course, Ecthelion’s turning it into a concert,” Glorfindel whispered to you, shaking his head in amusement.

Then, Maeglin showed up—late—already brooding before he even stepped foot in the courtyard. He looked around, unimpressed, until his eyes fell on the pumpkin-carving station. “What is this?” he asked, genuinely confused. You handed him a carving knife and gestured toward the pumpkins. “Carve something. It’s therapeutic.”

Turgon, ever the picture of regal composure, made his entrance just as Maeglin started slicing away. “I trust this...activity is appropriate?” the king asked, giving you a look that said he was still uncertain about the whole idea. You just grinned. “Trust me, Turgon. If nothing else, watching your nephew stab a pumpkin will be the highlight of your evening.”

The apple-bobbing contest kicked off with Glorfindel joining Rog and going head-to-head. Both were elbowing each other out of the way in a very un-lordly manner, while the rest of the group gathered around to cheer or laugh at their antics. Maeglin, as expected, looked sceptical by the whole thing, but even he couldn’t resist glancing over occasionally to see who was winning.

Egalmoth, being Egalmoth, had somehow found a way to tie autumn-coloured ribbons into his hair, showing them off to anyone who would listen. He tried to convince Ecthelion to do the same, but the captain of the fountains was far too dignified to humour him.

Meanwhile, Turgon had finally warmed up to the idea of an autumn feast, especially once the pumpkin-spiced everything made its way to the table. You weren’t sure if he loved or hated it, but he certainly looked intrigued. “This is...different,” he commented, taking a cautious sip of pumpkin ale.

The pumpkin-spiced food was a hit—or at least, it became the subject of much discussion. Galdor wasn’t sure about the pumpkin bread but enjoyed the roasted chestnuts, while Glorfindel happily inhaled anything remotely edible. Ecthelion, ever the refined one, sipped his pumpkin ale with an arched brow, considering it more thoughtfully than anyone else.

As the night wore on, Glorfindel and Galdor started a friendly archery competition, using pumpkins as targets. Maeglin actually got involved, managing to hit a target dead centre without even trying. “I hate how good he is at everything,” Glorfindel muttered, shaking his head as Maeglin smirked and walked away.

The hay-bale toss turned into an unexpected competition between Glorfindel, Rog, and Maeglin. You watched as they tried to outdo each other, tossing the heavy bales farther and farther until Maeglin, ever the silent competitor, sent one soaring well past the others. “I should’ve known the smith would win this...again,” Glorfindel said, shaking his head with a laugh.

Once the bonfire was lit, the atmosphere became more relaxed. The lords gathered around the flames, drinking and laughing as the night grew darker. You introduced the concept of roasting marshmallows, and though Rog seemed confused at first, he ended up liking the sweet treat more than he’d admit.

As the night continued, you convinced the group to participate in a scavenger hunt you had prepared earlier in the day. You’d hidden little tokens all around the courtyard, each representing something from the autumn season—acorns, tiny pumpkins, golden leaves—and you split the group into teams. Glorfindel teamed up with Ecthelion, while Turgon, much to your surprise, paired with Rog. Watching the elven lords of Gondolin running around in search of hidden trinkets had you stifling laughs for the rest of the night.

By the time the bonfire was lit, everyone was in high spirits. Rog and Galdor were still trading jabs about who won the apple-bobbing contest, while Egalmoth was already planning next year’s party. Ecthelion had taken over the music, adding a dramatic flair to the entire evening with his harp, while Glorfindel tried (and failed) to convince Maeglin to at least smile once before the night ended.

The final event of the evening was a storytelling session around the bonfire. Ecthelion, naturally, volunteered to go first, spinning a dramatic tale about a haunted forest. Glorfindel, of course, made it funnier than it needed to be by making shadow puppets in the firelight, causing the others to groan in mock frustration.

Maeglin stayed quiet through most of the stories, but you caught him smirking a few times, especially when Rog told a tale about a prank gone wrong. Even Turgon, ever serious, seemed to relax in the warmth of the fire and the company of his closest friends.

As for you, you stood back, watching as the lords of Gondolin—so used to battles and council meetings—embraced the ridiculousness of an autumn celebration. Turgon caught your eye from across the fire, giving you a nod of approval. Maybe hosting a party wasn’t the worst idea you’d ever had.

Masterlist

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[rainforestakiie]

Adamsapple Month Harvest

Apple Picking~

@adamsappleweek

okay, so i really want to be apart of this. i was hoping to have the first week written and ready to go! but i ran out of time! i am away the first week, so i have tried really hard! i may be a week behind everyone else! i might be able to get pumpkin out before tomorrow morning when i leave for my vacation! i hope you like it!

peacock adam is inspired by @inubaki

The first tender blush of life was an enchanting, bewildering moment. A strange, ethereal instant. Colours swirled like windswept petals, spiralling around the first human, coaxing them into existence with a soft, delicate pull. Nothing had form in the dawn of time. Shapes flickered in and out like distant dreams, hazy and formless. The first human wasn't quite human yet—more of a flicker of light, a whisper on the breeze, a faint shimmer like the flutter of a butterfly's wings or the soft rustling of peacock feathers, caught in an eternal dance.

"My child, you are awake," a voice as gentle as the wind, warm and soothing, called them to awareness. "My first human."

They flinched at the sudden brightness, their eyes wide and glassy, blinking against the light. The first human wriggled, an odd flutter of sensation tightening in their chest as they became aware of their new body, the unfamiliar weight of limbs. A pulse of warmth cradled them from below, something soft and alive beneath their skin, sending tiny tingles through their senses.

A tender laugh drifted from above, soft as a lullaby, calming the anxious human. "Open your eyes, my child. Open them and behold your new home."

Slowly, cautiously, their eyes fluttered open, the very act of blinking an alien concept. A soft whimper escaped their lips, startling them as they froze, wide-eyed and trembling, trying to make sense of themselves. Another gentle chuckle beckoned their gaze, and finally, the first human looked upon the most exquisite being they would ever know.

Before them stood a figure, radiant with a beauty that words could never hope to capture. She towered above them, a towering presence, ten times their size, her body graceful and slender. She wore a dress as pure and white as freshly fallen snow, flowing like water around her legs, pooling at her feet in a cascade of soft silk. Ribbons of white floated about her arms like whispers and draped across her shoulders was a magnificent cloak of feathers—blue, green, and gold, shimmering like the iridescent wings of a peacock, forming a cascade that fluttered like ethereal wings, though the human wouldn't have known that. She wore crown and was holding a golden sceptre.

Her skin glowed with a warm, sun-kissed hue, her long curls a cascade of deep chestnut and fiery red, framing her face like a crown. But it was her eyes—those golden, otherworldly eyes—that mesmerized the first human, filled with wisdom and warmth, glowing like the very essence of life itself.

"I am a woman," she said with a smile, her voice like honeyed sunlight. "And you, my dear one, are the first man. My first creation. I am your mother, and I will guide you, nurture you, and care for you, as long as you fulfil your purpose."

First man?

The words swirled in his mind, strange and unclear. He could only stare in wonder at the towering woman, giving a small, uncertain nod as she gazed down at him with endless love and patience.

"I am the Queen of the Gods," his mother spoke, her voice firm and regal, the air around her thick with authority. Her golden eyes lifted toward the swirling heavens above, the clouds parting as if bowing to her presence.

"My true name is Hera," she continued, her tone carrying the weight of eternity. "Goddess of marriage, of women, childbirth, and family. But to you, I am simply ‘Mother.’"

“Mother?”

The word hovered on the tip of his tongue, his lips twitching, struggling to form the sound. Hera’s knowing smile softened, and she shook her head gently, her golden eyes gleaming with patience.

“Do not fear, my child,” she murmured, her voice as soft as a breeze through leaves. “That will come in time.” She lifted her golden sceptre with grace, and as she did, a low rumble stirred from behind him. The ground beneath him pulsed, alive and breathing. He tried to move, but his limbs, still unfamiliar and clumsy, betrayed him. He tumbled forward, sprawling awkwardly upon the warm earth.

“This is your duty,” Hera said, her voice resonating with purpose. “The very reason for your birth.”

Frantically, the first human rolled onto his back, eyes wide with curiosity and confusion. Before him, a tiny stick began to emerge from the ground, rising and stretching toward the sky until it stood as tall as he did. He blinked at it, baffled, unable to comprehend its significance.

“This is your purpose,” Hera explained, her gaze never leaving the stick. “Right now, it is but a mere sapling—fragile, insignificant. But as you grow, as you learn, as you feel the stirrings of emotion, this tree will blossom with life. Apples will grow from its branches, and it will become a living testament to your journey.”

Her golden eyes softened as she knelt, bringing herself to his level, her presence both nurturing and commanding. “When the time comes, your duty will be to care for this tree. To protect it, nurture it, and love it with all your being. Listen closely, my child. This tree will give birth to the future of humanity. It is your most sacred responsibility.”

Hera’s voice grew more solemn, her gaze intense. “In time, there will be those who wish to disrupt the path laid by the gods. They will come, seeking to steal an apple from this tree. You must never allow it. Not a single apple may be plucked.”

The first human, bewildered, turned his gaze back to Hera. His mouth opened and closed, desperate to speak, but no words came. His thoughts swirled like the clouds above, too vast and too mysterious for him to grasp. Hera’s expression was filled with something deep—something the first human could not yet understand.

“You will, in time,” she assured him gently. “With patience, understanding will come. But for now, remain close to your tree. Pour your heart and soul into it. This tree, this garden, will be your life, my child. But do not fear, for I will always be with you. Whenever you call for me, I shall appear.”

Her words were spoken with the tender authority of a mother. She smiled, reaching out to him, her fingers brushing through his phantom-like hair. At her touch, the strands transformed, becoming thick and rich, coloured with deep shades of brown and red, like hers. She hummed softly, running her hand through his hair as his new form began to take shape—his skin warm and sun-kissed, his eyes shimmering with the same golden glow that marked him as her own.

“From this moment forward, your name will be Adam,” Hera said, her voice filled with pride. “The first human, born of the Queen of the Gods, Hera.”

~#~

Adam sat quietly, cross-legged on the warm, living earth beneath him, staring at the slender stick before him. His brow furrowed; lips slightly parted in quiet confusion. The stick, so small and fragile, did not seem worthy of the love and protection Hera had told him to give. What could he possibly do for it? He didn’t understand its purpose—much like he didn’t fully understand his own. He looked around the vast garden, golden sunlight dappling the trees, the air sweet and warm, but his gaze always came back to the stick. It stood there, rooted, silent, waiting.

For what?

After a long time, Adam stirred. His fingers twitched in the soil, feeling the pulse of life beneath his fingertips, the breath of the land surrounding him. A flicker of determination sparked within him. He pushed himself up, his legs trembling with uncertainty as he tried to use his feet. But the moment he shifted his weight, he toppled back, landing on his backside with a soft thud. A small, startled laugh escaped him—not from his mouth, but in the way his body shook with surprise.

As if in response to his courage, the stick began to stretch. Slowly, it rose higher than before, its delicate form straightening, thin tendrils of roots starting to twist into the earth. Adam’s breath caught in his chest, his heart beating a little faster as he watched it grow, as though the stick was waiting for him to act. Amazement filled him, his chest tight with wonder, and in that very moment, the tree pulsed. It shuddered with life, thickening, solidifying, its branches extending upward in slow, graceful arcs.

Adam's eyes widened, filled with childlike awe. He took another breath and tried once more, pushing himself to stand. This time, his feet steadied beneath him, though his knees wobbled. The tree responded immediately, growing taller, more magnificent. Each movement, each discovery Adam made about himself, seemed to breathe life into the tree.

Encouraged, Adam took a few shaky steps forward, marvelling at his newfound balance, but in his clumsiness, he tripped over a root. He tumbled to the ground, pain shooting up his leg. The moment his skin grazed the earth, the tree surged with growth, the trunk thickening even more, its roots digging deeper into the soil.

Adam sat there for a moment, rubbing his ankle, staring at the ever-growing tree. The connection between them was undeniable, though still mysterious. He didn’t understand fully, but it filled him with warmth. A warmth that soon turned into joy when Hera appeared again, stepping lightly into the garden like a breeze.

Her golden eyes sparkled with approval as she gazed at the tree, now towering over both, its branches wide and full of promise.

“I am pleased with your growth, my child,” Hera said, her voice soft but filled with pride. “The tree flourishes because of you, and it is already more magnificent than I expected.”

Adam blinked up at her, still unable to speak, though his heart longed to communicate. Hera, as if sensing his confusion, knelt beside him, her presence calming.

“This tree is bound to you,” she explained, her fingers brushing the roots that had tangled themselves lovingly around Adam’s feet. “It will grow as you grow. Its strength, its beauty—everything about it will reflect what you learn, what you feel. It is a mirror of your soul.”

She stood, gesturing to the golden gates that shimmered far in the distance, their tops disappearing into the clouds.

“This land was created for you,” Hera continued. “You may explore anywhere within those gates, but you must never stray beyond them. The tree is your heart, and you must always be near it.”

Adam nodded, though his mind still swirled with questions. Hera smiled gently, a motherly pride shining in her eyes. She bent down, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. The warmth of her touch spread through him, and for the first time, Adam felt something new—a lightness, a joy blooming in his chest.

Without thinking, his lips curled into a smile. Hera chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling as she noticed the first apple, small but perfect, beginning to form on one of the branches above.

“The apple of joy,” she mused, brushing her fingers along the growing fruit. “Well done, my child. I am proud of you.”

Adam’s smile faltered, confusion flickering in his eyes. Proud? The word felt strange, unfamiliar. But Hera simply touched his cheek, her expression kind. “In time, you will understand.”

Not long after, the gods began to visit Adam, each arrival more magnificent than the last. The first to descend from the heavens was Zeus, who appeared in a blaze of lightning and a rolling wave of thunder that seemed to shake the very sky. His presence was immense commanding, like the rumble of a distant storm. The air around him crackled with energy, as if the very clouds bowed to his will. He stood tall, radiating power, his eyes the colour of a tempest, sharp and piercing as they gazed down at Adam.

"I am Zeus," he declared, his voice deep and booming, echoing through the garden like thunder over the hills. "King of the Gods. Ruler of the skies and master of thunder. I am power. I am authority."

His words hung in the air, heavy and electric. Adam stood still, wide-eyed, staring up at this god whose very presence seemed to shake the fabric of the world. Zeus, with all his might, spoke of justice and strength, his teachings woven into the very atmosphere, as if the sky itself listened in reverence. Each word was like the beat of a drum, filled with promise and unyielding force, painting a picture of order and dominion. The air around Adam tingled with something new, something that pulsed deep within him.

As Zeus's voice thundered on, something extraordinary began to happen. The tree that stood beside Adam—the one he had nurtured with his own quiet care—responded. Apples began to blossom from its branches, small and golden, glowing like tiny suns. Each one grew as Zeus spoke, as if the tree itself drank in the knowledge and wisdom of the god’s teachings. Power. Authority. Justice. With every new concept Zeus shared, a fresh apple bloomed, rich and ripe, the tree swelling with life.

Yet, as the apples multiplied, a strange feeling stirred in Adam’s chest—something uncertain, something heavy. His heart fluttered with unease, like the whisper of a breeze before a storm. Though Zeus’s words were filled with grandeur and might, something in them felt... distant, cold, as if they lacked the warmth of the earth, the softness of the garden he had come to know. It was as though the power Zeus spoke of was too vast, too untouchable, leaving Adam with a sense of disquiet that he could not yet name.

It wasn’t long before Hera returned, her golden eyes narrowing in displeasure when she found Zeus in her garden, his voice rumbling through the trees like a storm. Adam was cowering beneath a branch, his heart pounding in his chest.

Hera’s feathers ruffled as she stepped into the clearing, her voice sharp. “Zeus! This is my human. This garden belongs to me. You have no right to be here.”

Zeus, unconcerned, merely smirked, his laughter echoing through the air. “Oh, Hera. Always so protective. Perhaps I’ll create my own humans, but for now, I’m curious to see what your little pet project will become.”

Hera bristled; her anger barely contained. “If Adam becomes something great, you’ll only try to claim him as your own. But he is mine, and you have no place here.”

Zeus chuckled, teasing her. “Don’t stress yourself, my wife, or you’ll wrinkle that lovely brow of yours.”

With a wink, he disappeared in a crack of lightning, leaving Hera fuming, her wings twitching with irritation.

But her mood softened when she turned to Adam, who looked up at her with wide, innocent eyes and spoke his first word.

“Mother.”

Hera’s breath caught, her eyes glistening with tenderness as she smiled down at him.

“Yes, my child?” she whispered, her heart swelling with pride and love.

Another apple began to grow above them.

~#~

After Zeus had come and gone in his stormy grandeur, the other gods and goddesses, curious and eager, began to follow suit. One by one, they entered the sacred garden, each bearing gifts of knowledge and wonder, their divine presence casting a magical glow upon the world Adam was learning to call home. They approached the first human with gentle fascination, intrigued by the sight of new apples sprouting on the tree with each revelation they shared. Every lesson was a seed, and every seed bore fruit.

Poseidon, God of the sea, earthquakes, and horses, was next. He strode toward Adam with the commanding presence of a rolling tide. His eyes glistened like the deepest oceans as he lifted his hand, summoning nature’s unpredictable power. The quiet garden that had once been bare now burst into life. Lush grass unfurled beneath Adam’s feet, trees blossomed in an instant, and vibrant flowers bloomed in hues Adam could hardly name. Streams of water wove their way through the garden, their currents both gentle and wild, a reminder of Poseidon's dual nature. Adam stood in awe, mesmerized the god had conjured life from nothing. Poseidon smiled and spoke of nature's fierce and delicate balance.

"Respect the earth," he said, his voice like the murmur of the waves. "And it will respect you in return."

Soon after, the goddess Demeter stepped into the garden, her every footfall leaving a trail of ripe fruits and vegetables in her wake. Her presence felt like the warmth of a harvest sun, nurturing and kind. She bent down, cupping her hand over the fresh produce that had sprung from the earth.

"Take what you need, my child," she said softly, offering Adam a plump fruit. "But remember, when you take from the soil, plant three seeds in return. Give as much as you receive, for this is the way of life."

Adam listened, her wisdom sinking deep into his heart as he watched the fruits grow larger and more bountiful on his tree.

Next came Athena, goddess of wisdom, warfare, and crafts, her eyes gleaming with the sharp light of intelligence. She knelt beside Adam and began to tell him stories of ancient battles and cunning strategies. She taught him the art of creation, showing him how to meld his surroundings into tools.

"With wisdom and patience, you can shape your world," she said, her voice calm and steady.

Adam found himself captivated by her words, eager to learn the skills she offered, and with each new craft, a bright apple blossomed on the tree, glowing with the light of knowledge.

Of all the visitors, Adam’s heart warmed most to Apollo, the god of the sun, music, and healing. When Apollo entered the garden, the entire world seemed to shine brighter, the sun blooming high in the sky as if it had been born from his very soul. A radiant light bathed the garden, casting warmth over Adam’s skin and filling him with a sense of peace.

"This sun is for you, to keep your garden warm and your heart light," Apollo said, his voice like the soft strum of a lyre.

With him, he brought music—the sweetest gift of all. He taught Adam how to build instruments, crafting a simple guitar from the wood of the Tree of Life. They would sit for hours beneath the branches, Adam learning how to play, his fingers dancing across the strings while Apollo sang beside him. Each note they played seemed to bring more life to the garden, and more apples to the tree.

But where there was sun, there was also moon. Artemis, goddess of the hunt and the wild, soon followed her twin brother into the garden, her arrival as quiet as moonlight but filled with purpose. The moment she stepped into the garden, a silver glow spread across the land, and a luminous moon took its place beside Apollo’s sun. Her presence brought the wilderness with it—deer, wolves, and all manner of wild creatures slipped through the shadows to join the peaceful garden.

"The wild has its place here, too," she said, her eyes fierce but protective.

She taught Adam about the beauty and freedom of the untamed world, and how nature could flourish in chaos as well as in calm.

Then came Ares, God of war. His entrance was not soft like the others but bold, the air around him crackling with energy. He spoke to Adam of conflict, aggression, and the chaos of battle, his words laced with intensity. Adam, however, felt uneasy under his fierce gaze, unsure how to reconcile the violence Ares spoke of with the peace of his garden. But soon after, Hephaestus, God of blacksmiths and fire, arrived to offer balance. He showed Adam how to channel those darker emotions into creation, shaping metal and flame into something beautiful and useful.

"There is power in transformation," Hephaestus explained, his hands forging tools from raw materials, each one gleaming with purpose.

Hermes, the god of messengers, travellers, and trickery, arrived with a swiftness that left Adam blinking in surprise. Hermes was quick and clever, his words flowing like a river as he taught Adam the arts of communication, how to speak and write, how to understand the language of the world. With every lesson, Adam's own speech grew clearer, his thoughts more organized, and apples of intellect sprouted from the branches above.

Hestia, the gentle goddess of the hearth and home, came quietly into the garden, her presence a warm and comforting embrace. She guided Adam in the art of creating a home, ensuring that the place he rested was not just a shelter, but a space filled with peace, stability, and warmth. She smiled at him, her eyes glowing like embers, as she showed him how to build a fire, how to keep the hearth burning, always.

The final visitor was Dionysus, God of wine, festivity, and the wild joy of life. His energy was exuberant, his laughter contagious as he tried to teach Adam the art of celebration. He offered Adam a cup of wine, and for the first time, Adam felt the giddiness of intoxication. But before the festivities could get out of hand, Hera appeared, her expression stern as she found Adam giggling and stumbling.

"No more wine for you," she declared, her voice soft but firm. "You are to remain clear-headed, my child."

Adam, sheepish but amused, smiled up at her, nodding in agreement.

Through it all, the tree continued to grow, fed by the wisdom and emotions Adam absorbed from the gods and goddesses. It stood taller and prouder, its branches heavy with apples of every hue, each one a testament to Adam’s journey of learning. As Hera watched over him, her eyes softened with affection. Though Adam had yet to fully understand his purpose, the garden was already flourishing, and with each new step he took, his heart and the tree both grew stronger.

Adam's days stretched into a gentle, golden haze, filled with warmth and quiet contentment. The hours drifted by as he lay beneath his ever-growing tree, the soft grass cradling his body. His golden eyes shimmered in the dappled light, watching as the tree—once a mere stick—had now blossomed into a towering presence. Its branches extended in every direction like wooden arms, reaching toward the heavens. Apples of every hue dangled from those branches, each pulsing softly with life, glowing with the emotions they represented. Adam often found himself lost in thought, wondering how these apples, brimming with such power, would one day birth something greater. Yet, his heart brimmed with trust. Hera, his beloved mother, had told him they were important, and Adam believed in her words with all his being. He adored her, cherished her guidance, and found peace in knowing she always watched over him.

But despite the serene beauty of his garden, it could be terribly lonely. The gentle hum of nature that surrounded him—while comforting—wasn't enough to fill the quiet when the gods and goddesses weren’t visiting. Adam savored their company, especially Apollo’s, who often lingered for hours, filling the air with music and warmth until someone from the clouds had to come fetch him. But once they left, an empty ache settled in Adam’s chest, a hollow space that nothing seemed to fill.

With a soft sigh and a slight pout, Adam rolled onto his side, his fingers absently playing with the grass, twirling the blades between his fingers. The small daisies giggled as he touched them, their soft petals tickling his skin, but his mind was elsewhere. He barely noticed when the air around him shifted, becoming warmer, the breeze carrying with it a sweet, intoxicating scent of blossoms.

"So, you’re the human everyone has been speaking of," a voice cooed from behind him, silky and warm.

Startled, Adam jerked upright, scrambling onto his knees to turn and face the new presence in his garden. His breath caught in his throat as his eyes fell upon the goddess who leaned gracefully against his tree. She was breathtaking, with long, cascading curls of golden hair and eyes as blue and deep as the ocean. Her form was delicate but radiant, her waist slim and her chest perfectly curved. She smiled at him, fingers lazily tapping the bark of the tree as one brow arched playfully.

"Are you not going to greet me?" she teased, her voice like a melody, as though woven from honey and light.

Adam blinked, his mind scrambling to catch up.

"Who are you?" he asked, his voice soft with wonder.

The goddess laughed, a sweet, lilting sound that danced on the breeze. "Oh, I see. You’ve grown bold, haven’t you?" Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

“O-Oh, I’m sorry,” Adam stammered, his face flushing deeply with embarrassment. He bowed his head quickly, his gaze falling away from her radiant beauty.

With a soft smile, the goddess pushed herself off the tree and walked toward him, her movements graceful and fluid. She knelt before him, her long, delicate fingers reaching out to gently lift his chin, guiding his gaze back to hers.

"My name is Aphrodite," she whispered, her voice as smooth as silk. "The goddess of love, beauty, and desire."

“Love?” Adam repeated, his brow furrowing in confusion as the unfamiliar word left his lips. But at the same time, his face burned with a new, unfamiliar warmth under her gaze.

Aphrodite’s soft giggle sent shivers down Adam’s spine. Her eyes flicked upwards, catching the sight of a brilliant pink apple forming on one of the branches above.

“My apple, I presume?” she mused, her voice dripping with amusement.

Adam followed her gaze, watching in awe as the rosy fruit bloomed before his eyes, its color vibrant and intoxicating. His heart fluttered with a strange, new feeling—shyness mixed with curiosity. Relief flooded him as Aphrodite released his chin and stood up, but the sensation in his stomach—an odd, coiling warmth—lingered. He felt small, bashful under her enchanting gaze, and she clearly revelled in his unease.

Humming softly, Aphrodite let her fingertips trail along the bark of the tree, her touch almost reverent as she moved closer to the freshly grown apple. Her hand reached up toward the pink fruit, brushing the air just beneath it, when Adam’s breath caught in his throat.

“P-Please don’t touch my apples!” he blurted out, clambering clumsily to his feet. “Mother told me no one is allowed to pick them!”

Aphrodite turned to him, her lips curling into a smile that was both playful and mysterious, her blue eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Do not fear, Addie," she purred, her tone teasing as the nickname rolled off her tongue. "I have no intention of picking the apple."

Adam's face flared crimson at the sound of the nickname, his heart thudding in his chest. He shifted awkwardly on his feet, his body fidgeting under her gaze. Aphrodite, clearly delighted by his reaction, let out a soft, spine-tingling hum, her attention drifting back to the tree. She traced her fingers along the bark, her touch light and careful, as if she were caressing something alive.

And in a way, she was. The tree pulsed beneath her hand, its bark warm and almost breathing, alive with the magic and emotions it held. Adam stood frozen, unsure of what to do, his eyes wide and his heart racing as Aphrodite’s presence filled the air around him. She glanced over her shoulder, her gaze locking with his, and in that moment, Adam felt something stir deep within him—something entirely new.

Whatever it was, it left him breathless.

Aphrodite’s gaze lingered on Adam as she playfully tilted her head, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “Tell me, Addie,” she purred, her voice soft as velvet, “do you think I’m the most beautiful goddess? Even more beautiful than Hera?”

Adam blinked, taken aback by her question. His thoughts immediately drifted to Hera, his mother. He didn’t answer, not because he didn’t want to, but because, in his heart, no one could ever be more beautiful than her. She was his everything—his guide, his creator, his protector. Aphrodite, sensing his hesitation, let out a dramatic sigh and pouted.

“Oh, pooh!” she whimpered, crossing her arms over her chest. “I really thought my charm had won you over.”

“What do you mean?” he asked, his golden eyes wide with genuine confusion. Adam cocked his head, puzzled by her words.

Aphrodite shrugged, her delicate shoulders rising as she leaned back against the tree. “My power, darling.”

“Is born from romance, passion, and physical attraction. I thought you'd be entranced by me—how could you not be?” She huffed like a child denied a toy, her lower lip jutting out ever so slightly.

“I was so sure you'd choose me over Hera. But no matter,” she added with a flick of her hair, “I’ll prove to you that motherly love is nothing compared to the love of a soulmate.”

Adam's brows furrowed as he stared at her, utterly bewildered. Her words danced around him like a strange puzzle, none of the pieces fitting together.

"What are you talking about?" he murmured, his innocence radiating from him like sunlight.

Aphrodite’s blue eyes sparkled with amusement. She straightened up, finally looking at him with a more serious expression.

“Tell me, Adam,” she began again, her voice a touch softer, “Do you love Hera?”

Without hesitation, Adam blinked and answered, “Of course I do. She’s, my mother.”

Aphrodite let out a snort, her lips curling into a smug smile. “Oh, Addie," she teased, "one day, you’ll abandon everything. Even Hera. For someone else.”

Adam’s frown deepened, his expression growing serious. “I would never betray my mother,” he said firmly, his voice unwavering. The very idea felt foreign, impossible.

Aphrodite laughed, a rich, melodic sound that filled the garden.

“Ah, love makes people do crazy things, my dear,” she said, a knowing look flashing in her eyes. “Trust me, even the strongest ties can be broken by love.”

Adam remained silent, unsure of what to say. The concept of love that Aphrodite spoke of felt strange, distant, like something just out of his reach. He could feel it tugging at him, but it made no sense.

Sensing his confusion, Aphrodite’s expression softened. “Love…”

“Is like a rose. Beautiful, vibrant, full of life… but also dangerous. Its thorns can hurt you.” As she spoke, vivid red roses began to bloom along her gown, their petals velvety and radiant in the warm light.

Adam’s eyes were immediately drawn to the roses. Mesmerized, he reached out, his fingers gently brushing over the delicate petals. But as his hand moved lower, it caught on a thorn, and with a sharp sting, he pulled back, gasping softly as a drop of blood welled on his fingertip. His eyebrows knitted together as he stared at the crimson bead forming on his skin.

Without hesitation, Aphrodite stepped closer, her soft fingers wrapping around his hand. She looked down at the tiny wound, her gaze tender, and gently cupped his hand in hers. "Does love hurt like this?" Adam asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Of course,” she murmured, her eyes twinkling. Aphrodite smiled, the kind of smile that held the weight of centuries. “The greatest love stories always come with pain and tears.”

“But why?” Adam asked, his golden eyes wide and filled with a mixture of curiosity and sadness.

Aphrodite grinned at him, her blue eyes sparkling with mystery.

“Because, my dear Addie, love is a force more powerful than you can imagine.” She brushed her fingers against his cheek, her touch light and almost comforting. "Can you keep a secret?"

Adam’s eyes grew wide with fascination. “I can!” he blurted out eagerly, only to pause and frown. “But… I don’t know what a secret is.”

Aphrodite giggled, the sound like the tinkling of wind chimes. “A secret,” she explained, “is something you keep just between the two of us. No one else can know—not even Hera.”

Adam hesitated, his heart fluttering. His loyalty to Hera was unshakable, and yet… there was something captivating about Aphrodite’s words. Her fingers stroked his cheek gently, and her voice dropped to a whisper.

“Please, keep my secret, Addie?” she purred.

His face flushed red, the warmth creeping up his neck as he swallowed hard. After a moment of struggle, he gave in, nodding slowly.

“O-Okay. I promise.”

Aphrodite’s smile widened in satisfaction. “Good boy. I’m making something. Something beautiful and wonderful.”

Adam's curiosity flared, his heart pounding with the excitement of something new. “What are you making?” he asked, his voice full of wonder.

Aphrodite leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear as she whispered, “The first angel.”

Adam’s eyes grew even wider, his breath catching in his throat. A soft silence fell between them, and after a moment, he whispered back, “What’s an angel?”

Aphrodite giggled again, her laughter sending a shiver down Adam’s spine. She patted his cheek playfully, her fingers lingering for just a moment.

“You’ll learn in time, Addie,” she teased. “You’ll see.”

Before he could ask anything more, Aphrodite winked at him, and as she began to step back, her form dissolved into a shower of rose petals that fluttered into the air. The petals swirled around him, transforming into delicate red butterflies that filled the garden, flitting among the branches of his tree.

Adam stood in awe, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the last of the butterflies disappear into the sky. He was amazed, breathless at the beauty of the display. And though Aphrodite was gone, her words lingered in his mind—her secret resting like a fragile bloom inside him, waiting to unfold.

~#~

One warm day, as it always was warm in the garden, Hera arrived to visit Adam. The moment he saw her, his heart swelled with happiness. It had been so long since anyone had come to see him, and his days had grown lonely in the quiet, though the vibrant garden never ceased to bloom around him. Yet today, something was different. The way Hera huffed and puffed, her eyes narrowed in frustration as she grumbled softly to herself, made Adam pause in confusion. He blinked up at her, tilting his head curiously before slowly approaching.

"Mother?" he called gently, his voice soft and filled with concern. "What’s wrong?"

Hera finally looked down at him, her eyes softening as she realized the worry in her precious human's gaze. "Oh, Adam," she sighed, "I didn’t mean to worry you." Her voice, though still regal, was tinged with weariness.

Adam’s wide smile returned, though his golden eyes searched her face with care. "Why are you upset, Mother?"

“It’s my husband, Zeus,” she muttered, her voice heavy with irritation. Hera pressed her fingers to her temple, massaging away an invisible ache. “He’s being foolish once again, trying to outdo me with his own human project. As if that will make up for his nonsense.”

Adam didn’t fully understand what she meant, but he could tell that whatever Zeus had done was the source of her vexation. His heart ached to see her troubled, so he decided to act. With a bright smile, he dashed toward the garden’s edge, gathering the most beautiful bouquet of flowers he had tended. Their petals glistened with dew, each bloom vibrant and full of life. With care, he presented the bouquet to Hera, holding it up as if it were the most precious treasure in the world.

"These are for you, Mother," Adam said, his voice soft and hopeful. "I hope they make you feel better."

Hera’s face softened at the sight of the flowers, and a smile slowly spread across her lips. She reached down and took the bouquet, inhaling the delicate fragrance.

"Oh, Adam," she said fondly, her eyes brightening as her irritation began to melt away. “These are beautiful. You always know how to cheer me up.”

Her gaze travelled upwards to the Tree of Life, which now stood tall and magnificent, its branches reaching toward the heavens, heavy with thousands of glimmering apples. The sight of it made Hera's chest swell with pride.

"Look at your tree," she mused, her voice filled with admiration. "It’s more vibrant than ever, so full of life. You’ve done so well, Adam. I expected no less from my precious human."

Adam beamed, his heart racing with joy at her words. Nothing made him happier than making Hera proud. Her praise was the sunlight that nourished his soul, just as the tree thrived beneath the warm rays of the sun.

Hera stayed with him for a long while after that, her presence a comfort Adam had missed deeply. They spoke about the garden, the tree, and everything he had learned from the other gods, but all too soon, the time for her to leave drew near. Adam could feel it, a hollowing sadness creeping into his heart. He had been so happy in her company, but now that she was preparing to leave, the loneliness returned, wrapping itself around him like a cold shadow.

Just as Hera turned to go, she noticed the change in him—the way his bright expression dimmed, how his shoulders hunched slightly as if trying to hide his sadness. She turned back, gently taking his hand and drawing him close, her golden eyes searching his face.

"Adam," she said softly, lifting his chin so he would meet her gaze. "Why are you so blue, my dear? Tell me, what troubles you?"

Adam hesitated, but then he took a deep breath, trusting his mother with every part of his heart.

"I’m lonely," he admitted quietly, his voice trembling. "I don’t like it when you leave. The garden is so quiet when you’re not here, and it’s starting to… hurt."

As Hera's golden eyes sparkled with newfound light, her wings unfolded with a graceful sweep, feathers shimmering like the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon. From the luminous plume, peacocks began to emerge, one after another, their feathers rich with opalescent blues, greens, and golds, each bird more breathtaking than the last. Their elegant tails trailed behind them like waterfalls of light, the garden now alive with the soft rustling of feathers and the occasional musical trill of their calls.

Adam gasped, his heart fluttering with awe and delight as the peacocks strutted around him, their beauty mesmerizing. The air felt warmer, more alive, and the garden seemed to breathe with new energy as the creatures made it their home. He watched, wide-eyed, as they wandered between the flowers, under the shade of the great tree, their feathers gleaming like precious gems scattered across the earth.

Hera, regal and motherly, watched Adam's wonder with a smile full of affection. She knelt beside him; her hand gentle on his shoulder. "These peacocks, my dear Adam, will be your companions. No longer will you walk alone in this garden. They will keep you company, shower you with affection, and rely on you as you will rely on them."

Adam's golden eyes shimmered as he gazed up at Hera. The ache of loneliness that had gnawed at him for so long began to melt away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of joy and gratitude.

"Thank you, Mother," he whispered, his voice trembling with emotion.

Hera brushed a lock of his hair from his face, her fingers warm and comforting.

“The tree, of course, will always be your greatest duty, for it is tied to the very core of your being. But these peacocks,” she gestured to the birds now fanning their tails in the sunlight, “they will be your second family. They will love you as deeply as you care for them. But remember, you must look after them, nurture them. They will look to you for guidance and protection, as you look to me.”

A smile broke across Adam’s face, radiant and innocent. “I promise, I will take care of them, just as you take care of me,” he said earnestly, his heart full of devotion. The bond he shared with Hera felt stronger than ever, as though the garden itself now pulsed with the rhythm of their shared love.

Hera’s gaze softened, and with tender grace, she bent down and pressed a kiss to Adam’s forehead. Her lips were cool and comforting, like the kiss of a soft breeze on a summer day.

“I adore you, my precious Adam,” she murmured, her voice carrying the depth of the heavens themselves.

Adam’s heart swelled with emotion, and without hesitation, he looked up at her with wide, adoring eyes.

“I love you too, Mother,” he said, his words simple yet filled with a pure, untainted love that only a child could give.

For a moment, Hera’s golden eyes flickered with something like surprise. Her gaze drifted upwards, catching sight of a brilliant pink apple nestled among the branches of the great tree—the apple of love, Aphrodite’s gift to the garden. Hera’s lips curved into a wistful smile, a mixture of pride and something more. She sighed softly, but her smile never wavered.

Looking back at Adam, she caressed his cheek, her touch light as a feather. “Love is a powerful thing, Adam. You will learn this in time,” she whispered. Her eyes, filled with both wisdom and a mother’s tenderness, held his gaze for a lingering moment.

The garden, now alive with the soft calls of the peacocks and the gentle rustle of leaves, seemed to hold its breath as Hera rose to her feet. She stood tall and radiant, her peacock feathers shimmering in the sunlight, the embodiment of regal beauty. Her time with Adam was ending, yet she hesitated, sensing the weight of his emotions.

As she prepared to leave, she noticed the shift in Adam—the way his joy began to fade, his posture becoming small and withdrawn, like a flower wilting without sunlight. Her heart ached at the sight, and she turned back, drawing him close to her once more. “Adam, my sweet child,” she said softly, her voice full of concern. “What is troubling you?”

Adam’s eyes, filled with a mix of sadness and longing, met hers. “I don’t like it when you leave, Mother. I feel so lonely when you’re gone. The garden feels empty without you. It’s starting to... hurt.”

Hera was silent for a moment, her heart heavy with his words. She could see the depth of his loneliness, the pain in his golden eyes. Gently, she cupped his face in her hands, her touch filled with both comfort and understanding.

“Oh, my dear Adam,” she murmured, her golden eyes softening with compassion. “You will never be alone. Not anymore.”

With a radiant smile, she raised her arms once more, and from her magnificent wings of peacock feathers came birds—more peacocks, brilliant in their blue and green splendor. They soared into the sky, their feathers glinting in the sunlight, before descending gracefully to the garden floor. Thousands of them filled the space, their presence vibrant and alive.

Adam gasped, his heart racing with excitement and joy as the birds flocked around him, their soft coos filling the air. His garden, once quiet and still, was now alive with the flutter of wings and the warmth of companionship.

“They will be your family now, Adam,” Hera said, her voice soothing. “They will love you and care for you as you will for them. They will be your constant companions, so you will never feel lonely again.”

Tears of gratitude welled in Adam’s eyes, and he beamed up at Hera, his heart overflowing with love.

“Thank you, Mother,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I will take care of them, I promise.”

Hera smiled, her eyes glowing with pride and affection. She leaned down and kissed him on the forehead once more, her touch soft and full of love. “I know you will, my precious child.”

As she prepared to leave once more, her wings shimmering in the sunlight, Hera glanced back at Adam, her heart full of love for the human she had created.

“Remember, Adam,” she said softly, “I will always be with you, no matter where I am. You are never truly alone.”

Adam nodded, his heart swelling with warmth as he watched her disappear into the soft light of the garden. The peacocks fluttered around him, their vibrant feathers glistening in the sunlight, and for the first time in a long while, Adam felt at peace.

He was no longer alone, and the garden—his home—was more alive than ever before.

~#~

Centuries slipped by like whispers on the wind. Though the world had largely forgotten him, Hera remained a steadfast visitor, weaving in and out of his days. Yet, Adam found himself mostly enveloped in a gentle solitude that no longer felt heavy upon his heart. His family of peacocks brought vibrant chaos to his life, each bird a shimmering personality, each one a delightful puzzle that kept him joyously occupied. He marvelled at the way their feathers caught the light, dancing in iridescent hues.

Lately, he had sensed a change in the skies, a fluttering mystery just beyond his reach. While he couldn't quite grasp its significance, he’d caught snatches of hushed conversations during Hera's visits. Other deities drifted in and out of his life like fleeting shadows, but Zeus remained notably absent. Adam surmised that Hera’s fiery spirit had sent him packing, while the mighty god busied himself with some enigmatic human endeavour, whatever that might entail.

For the past hundred years or so, Adam had spotted ethereal figures flitting through the azure expanse above, their wings glinting like jewels in the sunlight. None dared enter his enchanted garden, for Hera had made it clear that such incursions were forbidden. Still, Adam would stretch out upon the warm, welcoming grass, his heart brimming with wonder, as he watched these mysterious beings soar overhead.

He had honoured the sacred rules his mother set forth, never straying from the venerable Tree of Life, never once daring to breach the golden gates that cradled him in safety.

It wasn't so bad, he mused to himself, the gentle solitude wrapping around him like a soft blanket.

“Cain! Come on!” Adam implored; hands perched defiantly on his hips. “Stop bullying Abel!”

The obstinate red and black peacock merely scoffed, tossing his magnificent, feathered tail with a flourish as he stormed off, sending a cascade of vibrant feathers swirling in the air. Adam leaped aside, narrowly avoiding the gust of prideful disdain. With a heavy sigh, he closed his eyes, releasing a soft, disappointed sound as he turned his attention toward Abel.

Kneeling on the sun-kissed grass, he shifted closer to his smallest peacock, who seemed to embody gentleness itself. With tender hands, he opened his arms wide, welcoming Abel into a warm embrace.

“Did Cain hurt you badly this time?” he asked, carefully inspecting the delicate pink and white feathers that adorned Abel. The reason behind Cain’s relentless teasing remained a mystery to him, but he could never fathom why his heartless brother targeted the sweet little runt of the family.

Abel responded with a soft coo, nuzzling deeper into Adam's embrace, and Adam’s heart swelled with affection. He smiled tenderly, lifting the small peacock effortlessly into his arms, feeling the familiar warmth of companionship. A soft crack echoed as he straightened, relieved to find that Abel’s feathers remained unscathed this time. Cain hadn’t managed to snatch any away. Adam had hoped for a kinder heart to blossom in Cain, but alas, the bully remained unchanged.

“Don’t worry, dear Abel. I’ll protect you from the big, mean Cain~” he sang softly, cradling the peacock gently as he began to stroll back toward the majestic Tree of Life.

Abel cooed again, nuzzling his fluffy white head affectionately against Adam’s cheek. Adam grinned, feeling a spark of joy light up his heart.

“I’ll groom your feathers again~” he whispered playfully, swaying slightly with the little peacock nestled against him.

Adam began to hum a soft, lilting melody that Apollo had taught him so many lifetimes ago. The song drifted through the garden, soft as the breeze that swirled around the shimmering feathers of his peacock family. As the tender notes floated on the air, the mischievous birds gradually settled down, their playful antics pausing for the moment. Adam’s golden eyes sparkled with a mix of love and amusement as he caught several of them mid-mischief, their vibrant tails fanning out in innocence as he strolled by. But as he passed, they quieted, calmed by his presence and song.

It had been far too long since his mother, Hera, had visited. A familiar ache twisted in Adam’s chest at the thought of her absence. He adored his peacocks—they filled his days with color and company—but he couldn’t deny the depth of his longing to see Hera again. Nearly a hundred years had passed since their last meeting, and the distance only deepened his yearning. Something was happening outside the golden gates, something momentous, and though Adam didn’t know what it was, he could feel it in the air. His curiosity gnawed at him, mingling with a growing sense of exclusion. Why was he being left out? Why had the gods turned their attention elsewhere?

As he approached the towering Tree of Life, Adam’s gaze shifted upward—and his footsteps came to an abrupt halt. His heart skipped a beat, confusion flickering across his face. There, hovering in the air near the sacred tree, was a figure. They moved gracefully, never quite touching the tree, but far too close for Adam’s comfort. His eyes darted toward his peacocks, many of whom had now noticed the intruder, and Cain, ever the troublemaker, had begun to creep toward the tree, his striking red and black feathers ruffling in preparation for an attack.

Sharing a quick, knowing glance with Abel, Adam tiptoed closer, curiosity fully piqued. The figure was breathtakingly beautiful—unlike any being Adam had ever seen. He had met countless gods and goddesses over the centuries, but none had ever taken his breath away quite like this mysterious stranger.

Suddenly, the figure’s six enormous, feathered wings fluttered, lifting them higher, closer to the branches of the ancient tree. Adam’s gaze locked onto their hands as they stretched out, fingertips grazing the air just inches from Athena’s golden apple of knowledge. The figure remained blissfully unaware of Adam—or of the slyly advancing Cain.

“I wouldn’t do that~” Adam called out softly, though his voice held a note of awe.

The stranger jerked in surprise, their head snapping upward—only to smack it against a low-hanging branch. Their pristine white top hat flew as they winced, rubbing their head with a pained expression. Slowly, they turned to face Adam, their eyes half-closed in discomfort.

“Huh?” they murmured, blinking down at him.

“I suggest you move,” Adam said with a helpful smile, gesturing toward Cain with a nod.

Wide, beautiful blue eyes—large and round—peered down at Adam in astonishment. The stranger’s cherry-red lips parted, barely able to form words before Cain leaped at them with a furious squawk. With a startled yelp, the winged figure darted out of the way just in time, but Cain wasn’t satisfied with merely scaring them off. He launched himself from the tree, landing squarely on the stranger in a tangle of feathers and limbs, sending both crashing to the ground in a messy heap.

Gasping, Adam quickly set Abel down and dashed over, grabbing Cain around the middle. “Cain, stop!” he pleaded, tugging the furious peacock off the bewildered stranger. Even as Adam lifted him, Cain continued to squawk and thrash, determined to make his displeasure known.

“You’ve made your point!” Adam sighed, stepping toward the Tree of Life.

Cain huffed indignantly, casting one last spiteful glance at the stranger before leaping from Adam’s arms and retreating high into the tree branches, where he glared down like an angry sentinel.

Shaking his head, Adam turned his attention back to the newcomer, who was still lying on the ground, dazed but seemingly unharmed. Aside from a few scratches and a mess of feathers tangled in their golden curls, they appeared mostly fine. Adam knelt beside them; concern etched on his face.

“Um... are you okay?” he asked, his voice sheepish.

The winged figure blinked up at him, their large blue eyes glowing with confusion. Slowly, they sat up, their six wings fluttering as they shook off the shock. They frowned, rubbing the scratch on their blue-painted cheek and sending a glare toward Cain, who squawked mockingly from his perch.

“Yeah, I’m fine. You should really control your bird,” they grumbled, their voice low and disgruntled.

Adam tilted his head, his eyes sweeping over the stranger with unabashed curiosity. Up close, they were even more striking. Their golden curls framed a face that seemed to have been kissed by artistry itself, their long black lashes framing eyes that gleamed like polished sapphires. No nose graced their face, but their cherry-red lips and blue-painted cheeks gave them an ethereal charm. Their six wings shimmered in the sunlight, a blend of snow and sky-blue feathers that glittered like frost in the morning light.

“Oh!” Adam gasped softly, spotting the golden halo that hovered just above the stranger’s head. His eyes widened in awe as he reached for the white top hat that had fallen nearby. “Um... this is yours?”

The stranger eyed the hat for a moment, then reached out, their fingers brushing Adam’s as they took it. Before they could speak, Cain hissed from above.

“I’ve never seen you before,” the stranger remarked, their tone guarded.

“I could say the same about you!” Adam chirped brightly, excitement bubbling in his voice. “I’ve never seen you in my garden before!”

“What?” The stranger frowned, their wings giving a sharp flutter as they rose gracefully to their feet. “Your garden? This belongs to the Queen of Gods, doesn’t it?”

“My mother’s garden,” Adam hummed, his eyes wide with fascination as he watched the stranger’s wings move.

The stranger’s brows shot up in disbelief. “Your mother? Who are you?”

Adam giggled softly, still holding the fallen white top hat, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“I really am Adam,” he insisted, “The first human.”

The stranger snorted in disbelief, shaking their head and narrowing their sapphire eyes. “No, you're not. I know who the first humans are. It’s been my responsibility to guide them for the past year or so.”

“Oh? And who are these ‘first humans,’ then?” he asked, his golden gaze sparkling with interest. Adam tilted his head to the side, curiosity piqued.

 “The first man is named Steve,” they said, their voice dripping with authority. The stranger puffed up with pride, their wings fluttering slightly as they crossed their arms. “But he’s not exactly the nicest guy. In fact, he’s a bully—controlling, bossy, always pushing people around. And he torments Lilith constantly.”

Adam’s brow furrowed in confusion, his lips parting. “Lilith? Who’s Lilith?”

The stranger raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback that Adam didn’t know. “Lilith is the first woman. She and Steve were created together, as equals, to bring mankind into being. But Steve—well, he’s been nothing but trouble. Constantly tries to overpower Lilith, treating her like she’s beneath him.”

Adam blinked, processing the stranger’s words. Then, suddenly, it clicked. He let out a soft laugh, shaking his head in realization.

“Ohhh, now I get it. I think I finally know what’s been going on—why my mother, Hera, was so upset all those centuries ago.”

The stranger stopped short, his prideful expression fading into silent curiosity. He didn’t say a word, but his intense blue eyes stayed locked on Adam, waiting.

Blushing under the stranger’s gaze, Adam cleared his throat and smiled sheepishly. “I’m guessing this Steve and Lilith... they were created by Zeus, weren’t they? The King of the Gods?”

The stranger gave a stiff nod, still watching Adam closely. His curiosity only deepened when Adam giggled softly again, as if finally understanding something profound.

“That explains it,” Adam whispered to himself, though the stranger’s sharp ears caught every word. “That’s why Mother was so furious with him. Zeus... he copied her. He went off and created his own humans.”

The angel's interest intensified, and he moved a step closer, his blue eyes bright and filled with a kind of desperate curiosity.

“What do you mean?” he asked, voice soft, almost breathless.

Adam looked up, meeting those glowing eyes. He took a step forward, leaning in slightly, causing the angel’s cheeks to flush the colour of sunrise.

 “I mean,” Adam began, his voice soft and full of warmth, “I am the first human. I was born centuries ago, and I’ve lived here in Hera’s Garden ever since, caring for the Tree of Life.”

The stranger’s gaze shifted from Adam to the magnificent tree behind them, its branches pulsing with ancient energy. “You mean... it’s your responsibility to take care of the tree?”

Adam beamed, his smile wide and radiant. “Yes! The tree is deeply connected to me—born from my emotions, my feelings, my experiences. Each time I learn something new, each time I feel something deeply, a new apple grows.”

The stranger’s eyes widened in awe, their wings quivering slightly as they gazed at the tree. “I... I never knew that,” they whispered to themselves, voice barely audible. “There’s so much I didn’t know.”

“Who are you?” he asked at last, his voice gentle. Adam stepped forward again, catching their gaze, his own eyes soft and curious. “I’ve never seen anyone like you before.”

The angel’s face turned bright red under Adam’s attentive gaze. He took a step back, tugging nervously at the collar of his blue-and-white robes.

“I... I’m an angel,” he stammered, eyes flicking away from Adam’s intense gaze.

Adam gasped, his golden eyes growing wide with excitement. “An angel! I’ve been waiting so long to meet one!”

His joy was almost infectious as he leaned in eagerly. “Do you have a name?”

The angel shook his head, his expression turning a bit sombre. “No. None of us do. Angels... we aren’t given names.”

Adam frowned at that, the idea of someone so beautiful and special not having a name stirring something in his heart.

 “Well, that’s no good,” he declared, crossing his arms with determination. “You need a name! I’m quite good at naming things, you know. I named all the peacocks!”

 “Fine,” he sighed after a moment, a trace of amusement slipping through his serious exterior. The angel raised an eyebrow, giving Adam a dry look, but he didn’t protest. “What would you call me, then?”

Adam tapped his chin thoughtfully, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he studied the angel. After a few moments, his face lit up with a soft blush.

“Lucifer,” he said with a shy smile. “I think your name should be Lucifer.”

The angel blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that. For a moment, he was silent, rolling the name over in his mind. To his own surprise, he found that he liked it—really liked it.

“Lucifer,” he repeated slowly, a smile ghosting at the edges of his lips. “Why that name?”

Adam’s blush deepened, and he glanced down, suddenly bashful.

“Because...” he started, glancing back up at Lucifer, “You remind me of the Morning Star.”

Lucifer stared at Adam, wide-eyed and speechless for the first time, his heart skipping a beat. The name felt perfect, as if it had always been waiting for him, and Adam’s warm, sincere gaze made it even more meaningful. For the first time, Lucifer felt seen—truly seen—and as the gentle breeze stirred the golden leaves above them, the magic of that moment settled between them like stardust.

Lucifer shook his head, trying to dispel the strange warmth blooming in his chest. His six wings trembled, and he quickly pulled himself away from Adam, not realizing just how close he had leaned in, drawn by the soft glow of Adam's golden eyes and the blush deepening on his cheeks. Lucifer’s own face flushed pink, and in a moment of flustered panic, he pulled down his top hat to hide the heat rising in his cheeks.

“I-I should get going!” he stammered, his voice cracking slightly. “I have to get back to Eden. I—I don’t want to be accused of neglecting my responsibilities!”

His wings fluttered awkwardly, ready to lift him away, as if his sudden escape could mask the overwhelming feelings stirring inside him.

Adam’s eyes widened in surprise, and he instinctively stumbled after the angel. “Wait, Lucifer!”

Lucifer froze mid-flight, his heart stuttering at the sound of his name. It was so new, so strange to be called by something that felt so... personal. His whole body shivered as if the sound of his name from Adam’s lips was a gust of wind brushing over his skin. Slowly, he turned, his wings flapping just enough to keep him suspended in the air, his face growing even redder.

“Y-Yes?” he managed, his voice soft and trembling. “What is it?”

Adam hesitated, his hands fidgeting with nervous energy, his golden eyes wide and pleading. “You’ll come back, won’t you? You’ll come see me again, right?”

There was a desperate hope in Adam’s voice, something that tugged at Lucifer’s very soul. The thought of never seeing the angel again made Adam’s chest tighten, an ache he didn’t understand, but one that was impossible to ignore.

Lucifer swallowed hard, his heart racing as he held Adam’s gaze. Something inside him fluttered in response—an unfamiliar feeling, like the beginning of a melody he had never heard but somehow knew by heart.

“I... I will,” he answered softly, his voice steadier this time. “I’ll come back and see you soon. I promise.”

The way Adam’s face lit up, the way his smile radiated pure joy, sent Lucifer’s heart into a flustered spiral, his blush deepening as he looked away. His wings fluttered nervously, but the smile on Adam’s face left him rooted in place for just a moment longer, drinking in the sight of that happiness, like sunlight spilling into a shadowed corner.

Neither of them noticed the soft, shimmering magic that began to swirl around the branches of the Tree of Life. High above them, a ruby-red apple began to take shape, its surface gleaming like a polished gem, born from the quiet wonder blooming between them. The tree pulsed with quiet energy, responding to the bond being formed in that very moment, a connection laced with tenderness and curiosity, so fragile yet so profound.

For just a second, Lucifer’s wings fluttered slower, his gaze lingering on Adam’s glowing face. He felt something stir deep within him, something he wasn’t ready to name. But with a final bashful glance, he tore himself away, shooting into the sky, his heart pounding in a way that was entirely new to him.

As he disappeared into the heavens, Adam stood beneath the Tree of Life, watching Lucifer’s graceful flight, the angel’s name lingering on his lips like a whispered wish. A soft breeze rustled the leaves above, and the new apple shimmered, as if the tree itself was smiling down at the beginning of something beautiful.

~#~

Adam carefully pulled himself up the great, ancient branches of the Tree of Life, his giggles lost in the whispering leaves. His fingers found familiar grooves in the bark as he ascended, though today there was an odd, fluttering sensation deep in his belly—something unfamiliar, something strange. Adam couldn’t place it, but the higher he climbed, the stronger it grew.

Finally, he reached a particular branch, his instincts guiding him. There, nestled among the leaves, was something new. A shimmering, red apple that sparkled like a jewel against the golden sunlight. Adam’s large, golden eyes widened in surprise. He’d never seen an apple like this before—it was radiant, almost glowing, with an unmistakable energy pulsing from within. Tiny, ethereal hearts seemed to flicker inside the fruit, as if it were alive with some kind of magic.

Gently, Adam extended a hand, brushing his fingertips over the apple’s surface. It responded instantly, pulsing warmly under his touch. His breath hitched, and a flush of red crept up his cheeks, the blush burning brightly across his face.

“What... is this apple?” Adam whispered to himself. He knew each apple on this tree was born from his experiences, his emotions, but what could this one mean? What feeling had been awakened inside him?

Before he could ponder further, a sudden voice, full of mischief, broke the quiet.

“Boo!”

Adam squealed, startled, losing his grip on the branch. His arms flailed as he wobbled and then, with a small yelp, he tumbled from the tree.

But instead of hitting the ground, he landed in a pair of familiar, strong arms. Lucifer’s bell-like laughter rang out as he cradled Adam like a bride, his blue eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Did you miss me, Addie?” Lucifer teased, flashing a mischievous grin.

“Luci!” Adam huffed, smacking the angel playfully on the shoulder. His heart raced, still recovering from the surprise. “I told you not to sneak up on me like that!”

Lucifer giggled, his wings fluttering playfully as he spun them through the air, holding Adam securely. The gentle twirl made Adam whine, kicking his legs in protest.

“Put me down!” Adam pouted, squirming in Lucifer’s arms. “You know I don’t like it when you do this!”

Lucifer, grinning like the playful troublemaker he was, nuzzled against the side of Adam’s flushed cheek.

“But you make the cutest expressions, Addie~” he sang sweetly, delighting in Adam’s blushing face.

“S-Shut up!” Adam whimpered, his cheeks now a brilliant shade of red, as if competing with the apple he'd just seen.

Nearby, Cain, ever the jealous peacock, hissed and spat angrily at the angel. Lucifer’s face darkened with mock seriousness as he held Adam tighter, his possessive streak shining through.

“You know, Cain,” Lucifer said in a sing-song voice, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “At this rate, I just might run away with Addie~”

He whistled softly, pretending to consider it. “I could kidnap him, and you'd never see him again~”

Cain squawked furiously, his red and black feathers puffing up in outrage, the proud bird flapping his wings aggressively.

Adam sighed, exasperated, glancing between Lucifer and the indignant peacock. “Alright, alright, that’s enough. Stop teasing Cain. No wonder he doesn’t like you!”

Lucifer gasped in exaggerated disbelief. “Oi! I didn’t do anything! He’s the one who attacked me first!”

Despite his protests, Lucifer landed gently on the grass, a safe distance from Cain, who still eyed him suspiciously. With a cheeky grin, Lucifer stuck his tongue out at the huffy bird.

“He’s just jealous cause you like someone else more than him now!”

Adam’s face grew even redder at that comment, his gaze flicking nervously to Cain, who puffed up even more as if to challenge Lucifer’s claim. The poor man let out a sheepish laugh, trying to diffuse the tension as he stepped away from Lucifer’s teasing hold.

Lucifer, ever the opportunist, plopped down next to Abel, the gentle and quiet peacock of the flock. Abel wasted no time snuggling into Lucifer’s lap, cooing softly as the angel stroked his delicate pink and white feathers. A soft smile graced Lucifer’s face as he lovingly groomed Abel, his usual mischievousness replaced by tenderness.

“At least Abel likes me~” Lucifer cooed, his fingers working through the bird’s feathers with care. Abel purred in contentment, nuzzling into the angel’s hands, a perfect contrast to his fiery brother Cain.

Adam couldn’t help but smile at the sight, his heart warming at the gentle scene. Despite Lucifer’s playful antics, there was a softness to him—a sweetness that made Adam’s chest ache in the most wonderful way.

Since the moment Lucifer had first appeared in Hera's garden, he'd kept his word, sneaking back time and time again to visit Adam. Each meeting brought new stories—mostly rants about Steve's awful behavior or Lilith's brilliant inventions—but no matter the topic, Lucifer always seemed most eager simply to be with Adam. And Adam, too, found himself looking forward to their time together, that strange feeling in his chest growing more intense with each encounter.

Adam found himself watching Lucifer more often than he cared to admit. The angel was captivating, and there was something undeniably charming about his mischievous nature, his radiant blue eyes framed by his golden curls, the way his six wings fluttered when he laughed.

One afternoon, as they sat together in the shade of the Tree of Life, Adam found himself gazing a bit too long. Lucifer, who never missed a chance to tease, grinned and caught Adam’s stare.

"Do you like what you see?" Lucifer teased, winking smugly as he leaned back with an air of confidence. "Because I like what I see too~"

Adam’s cheeks flamed, turning a deep shade of red as he looked away, flustered. He scratched at his warm cheek and gathered his thoughts, finally turning back to Lucifer, his heartbeat fluttering. Something had been bothering him for a while, and it was time to ask.

"Luci," Adam began, his voice more serious than usual. "What were you doing by my tree back then?"

Lucifer, who had been gently grooming Abel's feathers, froze mid-motion. His expression shifted from playful to confused. "Huh?" He blinked, clearly not expecting the question. "What do you mean?"

Adam frowned, sitting up straighter. The air between them felt different—heavier. "Before Cain attacked you," Adam clarified, locking eyes with Lucifer. "What were you doing near the Apples of Life?"

For a moment, Lucifer said nothing. His mouth opened, then closed again, as if struggling to find the right words. His wings, normally so full of energy, sagged slightly. Adam’s heart clenched with worry, sensing something deeper beneath the angel’s hesitation.

"Lucifer..." Adam’s voice grew firmer, almost trembling. "What were you doing by the tree?"

Lucifer swallowed thickly, avoiding Adam’s gaze. "I... I was going to take the Apple of Knowledge."

A shocked gasp escaped Adam’s lips. He shot to his feet, his golden eyes wide with horror.

"You what?!"

Lucifer winced at the sudden outburst, his wings shrinking around him in defines. "I—It wasn’t like that!" he stammered, though he couldn’t quite meet Adam’s eyes.

"Lucifer!" Adam’s voice shook with disbelief, his heart racing in his chest. "You were going to steal one of my apples?! The Apple of Knowledge?"

The significance of the apple weighed heavy on Adam’s mind. He knew its power, its ability to alter the course of those who consumed it. The thought of Lucifer—his Lucifer—doing such a thing shook him to his core.

"I didn’t know you then!" Lucifer defended, his tone quieter, guilt lining his voice. "I didn’t know about you or the garden... I thought it was just a place of power. I didn’t know how much it meant, Adam. I swear!"

His blue eyes finally met Adam's, filled with something like regret. "I was only trying to... to help."

Adam’s heart ached as he saw the turmoil in Lucifer’s expression. His anger flickered, softened by the angel’s sincerity, but confusion still clouded his thoughts.

"Help?" Adam’s voice dropped to a whisper. "Help with what?"

Lucifer looked away, his hands gripping his robes. "Steve. Lilith."

His voice was low and bitter. "They were... are so miserable. Steve controls everything. He suffocates her, takes from her. I thought if I could take the Apple of Knowledge... maybe they could see what’s really happening. Maybe things could change."

Lucifer kept his gaze on the ground, shame flickering across his face. "I thought it was the only way to help them. But when I met you, when I saw the tree... I knew I couldn’t do it. That’s why I stopped. That’s why I never took the apple."

"You’re not like him," Lucifer whispered. "You’re not like Steve. You care, you’re different, you’re....I just wanted to give Lilith freedom, to be able to make her own choices and…"

Adam’s heart pounded painfully in his chest. Even though he’d heard Lucifer’s reasoning, the anger still simmered beneath the surface, but worse than the anger was the hurt—the deep, sharp ache that crept into his chest, making it hard to breathe. The thought of what Lucifer had said, of what he had almost done, spiralled in Adam’s mind, filling it with fear and doubt.

Tears welled up in Adam’s golden eyes, blurring his vision. His voice trembled as he spoke, barely above a whisper, "So… is that the only reason you visit me? To gain my trust? So, you could pluck one of my apples for Lilith?"

Lucifer’s head snapped around; his blue eyes wide with shock.

"What? No!" he shook his head furiously. He gently moved Abel off his lap and stood quickly, trying to close the distance between them.

Desperation crept into his voice. "Adam, no—please. That wasn’t it. I wasn’t trying to trick you!"

Adam jerked his hands away before Lucifer could touch them, pulling back like he’d been burned. Cain, ever protective, hissed viciously and leapt between them, feathers puffed in rage. Adam’s lips quivered as he gasped, his voice trembling with raw pain.

"Trick? You were trying to trick me?"

Lucifer froze, horrified. "No! No, that’s not what I meant!"

His voice broke as he shook his head, panic and regret twisting his features. "I chose the wrong words. Adam, I wasn’t trying to trick you—I swear it."

But Adam was already spiralling, the flood of emotions overwhelming him. His vision blurred as tears spilled down his cheeks, hot and unrelenting. He blinked, shocked by the intensity of his feelings, of how much it hurt.

"Lucifer…" he whispered, voice catching in his throat. "Why?"

Lucifer's heart clenched painfully at the sight of Adam’s tears. He had never seen Adam cry before. His Adam, the boy with the golden eyes who beamed brighter than the sun—now crumbling before him. Desperation surged through Lucifer’s veins.

"Adam, please," he begged, stepping forward despite Cain’s hissing. "Please listen to me!"

But Adam shook his head, turning his back on the angel, trying in vain to wipe his tears away. He could barely breathe, his chest tight with shame and confusion.

My mother will be so disappointed," he whispered brokenly. "For letting you in… for letting an intruder get so close to the tree, to me—and I didn’t even tell her." His voice cracked, the weight of it crushing him.

Lucifer stepped forward again, wings trembling with the urge to fix it, to explain. "No, Adam, it’s not like that—"

Adam was barely listening. His mind spun with the memories of every conversation, every rant Lucifer had about Lilith, about how he wanted to help her. It made his heart ache in a way he didn’t fully understand.

"You… you were trying to help Lilith?" Adam whimpered; his voice thick with emotion. He glanced up at Lucifer, his eyes wet and vulnerable. "You’re always so happy when you talk about her…"

Lucifer's wings jerked in surprise, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to respond. The accusation hung in the air like a heavy weight, and confusion flashed across Lucifer's face. He cared about Lilith, yes—but this wasn’t about her.

But Adam couldn't bear the uncertainty. It felt like a dagger twisting in his chest, burning with every heartbeat. He shook his head furiously, a sob breaking free from his throat as he stepped back, further away from Lucifer.

"You never cared about me, did you?" Adam cried out, voice cracking under the weight of his heartbreak. His golden eyes were wide and desperate. "You were just using me. To help her, weren't you?"

"No!" he pleaded, his voice breaking with the force of his denial. Lucifer flinched as if he had been struck.

He surged forward, reaching out to grab Adam’s arm, to hold onto him, to stop him from slipping away—but Cain lunged, screeching furiously, forcing Lucifer to retreat.

Adam’s heart pounded as he watched the angel flinch back, his chest heaving with the weight of his sobs. He breathed deeply, trying to steady himself, but the pain was too much. Looking Lucifer in the eye, Adam’s voice came out in a whisper, trembling and full of finality.

"You should leave."

The words hit Lucifer like a blow. He felt the sharp sting of them deep in his chest, and for the first time, he truly understood how much it hurt to see Adam like this—to see him in so much pain because of him.

"Adam, please..." he begged, his voice raw, wings drooping with the weight of his guilt. "Please listen to me…"

But Adam only turned away, shoulders shaking with silent sobs.

"Go," he whispered again, his voice barely holding together. “Just go away.”

Lucifer’s hands trembled as he pressed his lips together, his heart heavy with a grief he had never known. He nodded slowly, giving in to Adam’s wish, even though every part of him wanted to stay, to fight, to fix this. He hoped—prayed—that maybe, just maybe, he could come back when Adam wasn’t so sad, when things weren’t so broken.

He raised himself into the air, his wings fluttering weakly as he prepared to leave. But just as he was about to fly away, Adam called out one last time, his voice broken and fragile.

"Lucifer…"

Lucifer turned, hope flaring in his chest, only for it to shatter with Adam’s next words.

"Don’t come back."

It felt like the ground had fallen away beneath him. Lucifer hovered in the air, staring at Adam with wide, pained eyes. He wanted to scream, to protest, to tell Adam that he couldn’t leave him like this. But the words wouldn’t come. All he could do was watch as Adam stood there, tears streaming down his face, his golden eyes filled with a pain that made Lucifer’s heart break.

Swallowing hard, Lucifer nodded, his wings beating slowly as he turned away.

Adam collapsed to his knees with a sharp, broken gasp, the sound catching in his throat as the flood of emotions overwhelmed him. His golden eyes blurred completely with tears, spilling hot and unchecked down his flushed cheeks. His sobs wracked his body, each one pulling him deeper into the confusing, unbearable pain that clutched his chest. He didn’t understand. He didn’t know why it hurt this much, why the very thought of Lucifer leaving him, of never seeing him again, felt like a piece of his heart had been torn away.

Why did he care so much? Why did it feel like the world was crumbling around him for an angel he hadn’t even known until a few short years ago?

Yet, as Adam’s tears fell freely, the sorrow in his heart deepening with every ragged breath, he felt the soft fluttering of feathers and the gentle touch of his beloved peacocks. One by one, they swarmed around him, surrounding him in a cocoon of warmth and comfort, as if they too could feel the ache in their master’s heart.

Cain, with his fiery red and black plumage, pushed his way into Adam’s arms, nuzzling his sharp beak against Adam’s tear-streaked chest. He cooed softly, as if to say, I’m here, you’re not alone. Adam’s trembling hands instinctively reached out to hold the bird close, burying his fingers in Cain’s feathers. Cain had always been protective, always ready to hiss and snap at anyone who threatened Adam, but now he was gentle, quiet—his anger replaced by a deep empathy that mirrored the heartbreak in Adam’s soul.

Abel, his softer, more delicate counterpart, stood a short distance away, gazing mournfully in the direction Lucifer had flown. The usual brightness in his white and pink feathers dimmed as if he, too, felt the absence of the angel. Abel tilted his head, eyes filled with sadness, and let out a low, sorrowful trill, as though even he missed Lucifer already.

Adam’s sobs only grew louder as he held Cain tighter, his chest heaving with the force of his emotions.

“Why?” he whispered, his voice cracking under the weight of his grief. “Why does it hurt so much?”

His tears fell faster, dripping onto Cain’s feathers as he clutched the bird close, shaking his head in confusion. I don’t understand.

The pain in his heart was unlike anything he had ever felt. He had been happy in the garden—content in his simple existence, tending to the Tree of Life, surrounded by the peacocks and the beauty of Hera’s creation. He had known nothing of longing or love until Lucifer had appeared. And now… now, everything was tangled, broken, and raw.

The memories of Lucifer—his teasing smile, his playful winks, the way his blue eyes sparkled when he talked about Lilith—flashed through Adam’s mind, each one tightening the knot in his chest. A part of him had always known Lucifer was different, but never like this. Never so deeply that it left him breathless, left him aching when the angel wasn’t nearby.

Adam whimpered softly, wiping at his tears in vain as they continued to fall.

“Was it all a lie?” he choked out, staring blankly at the ground, his voice barely a whisper.

Did Lucifer ever really care about me? Or had he been nothing more than a tool, a way to get to the Apple of Knowledge? The thought made Adam’s heart shatter all over again.

Cain’s gentle nuzzles against his chest brought a flicker of comfort, but it wasn’t enough to erase the deep wound Lucifer had unknowingly left behind. Adam tried to steady his breathing, tried to stop the sobs from spilling out of him, but it was no use. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Lucifer’s face—saw the moment his wings sagged under the weight of Adam’s rejection, saw the heartbreak reflected in his eyes when Adam told him to leave.

Cain cooed softly again, his feathers brushing against Adam’s tear-soaked face, trying to offer whatever comfort he could. But Adam’s chest still burned with the ache of loss, the confusion of feelings he couldn’t quite understand.

As Abel let out another low trill, Adam’s shoulders slumped, his body trembling. He buried his face into Cain’s feathers, allowing himself to fall apart under the weight of his emotions. For the first time in his life, Adam felt something more than simple happiness, more than curiosity about the world. He felt pain—raw, real, and overwhelming.

And in the quiet of Hera’s Garden, with only the sound of his sobs and the soft rustle of feathers around him, Adam realized just how deeply he had fallen for the angel who had stolen his heart.

Lucifer.

The one who was never supposed to come back.

“So, this is the love Aphrodite spoke off.”

The only red apple on the Tree of Life fell, landing softly on the ground behind Adam—glowing faintly, like a heart slowly fading into darkness.

~#~

Adam didn't know how long it had been since he’d cast Lucifer out of the garden. Days bled into months, each one stretching endlessly, empty and quiet. The only reminder of the angel’s presence was the red apple Adam now held in his hands, its vibrant hue stark against the muted backdrop of Hera’s Garden. He gazed down at it wearily, rolling it back and forth between his palms. The apple was still warm, though not with the overwhelming, electric pulse it had carried before—just a gentle heat that felt strangely alive, as though it held onto something from Lucifer.

With a sigh, Adam lifted his eyes to the branches above, wondering why it had fallen. What was the meaning of this strange, new apple? His golden eyes dimmed with the weight of the question. There was no answer. There was only the ache in his heart, a dull, ever-present pain that he had begun to accept as part of himself.

Carefully, Adam bent down and placed the apple between the roots of the Tree of Life, as though returning it to the earth might return something he had lost. He sat beside it, propping his elbows on his knees, and exhaled deeply.

Maybe Aphrodite is watching me now, he thought bitterly, his lips twisting into a sad smile.

The goddess of love, always revelling in the pain her craft brought. Was she somewhere, laughing at him? Delighting in the sight of his despair?

The greatest story, huh?

Adam sniffed, closing his eyes. He had stopped crying after the first few months, and now all that was left was the hollow emptiness, the slow, creeping acceptance that maybe his heart would never fully heal. It would have been better, easier, if he had never met Lucifer at all.

He was about to stand when a sudden warmth bloomed beside him, and he gasped in surprise. He turned his head, wide-eyed, only to be met with a vision of beauty so breathtaking that for a moment, he thought he was dreaming.

Aphrodite, the Goddess of Love, sat beside him, her presence like a shimmering sunset, her golden curls glowing as they tumbled down her back. Her smile was radiant, though there was something mischievous in the curve of her lips, something far too knowing. With a delicate touch, she brushed her fingertips along Adam’s cheek, leaving behind the faintest warmth that made him shudder. He snapped his head up in bewilderment, unsure whether to recoil or lean into her touch.

“Aphrodite…” he breathed, his voice a whisper of disbelief.

She chuckled softly, her laughter light and teasing. "Yes, my dear. You don't need to get up." She waved a graceful hand, and at her command, a bed of small pink flowers bloomed at her feet, delicate and heart-shaped, their petals hanging like tiny teardrops. Adam blinked, astonished, as he looked at them. He had never seen such flowers in Hera’s Garden before.

“What... what are these?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, eyes wide in curiosity and grief.

Aphrodite smiled, her eyes glinting with amusement as she gestured to the flowers.

"Dicentras," she explained softly, “Also known as bleeding hearts. They symbolize heartbreak and the sorrow of losing someone you love.”

Adam’s heart clenched at her words. The beauty of the flowers seemed almost cruel in their meaning, a reflection of the ache deep in his chest. He swallowed hard, trying to suppress the fresh wave of emotion that threatened to overcome him.

Of course, he thought bitterly. Of course, she would bring these.

“So?” Aphrodite questioned, something dangerously, something amused in the curve of her red lips. “How did you enjoy my Angel?”

“Angel? So…Lucifer really was the Angel…you swore me to secrecy?” he asked, his voice trembling slightly. He glanced up at the goddess, his gaze sharp and full of pain. “Were you… were you proud of him?””

A laugh escaped the Goddess. “Oh, my sweet Addie, did you forget? Of course, Luci was my Angel~ I crafted him to be special for you~”

Adam’s breath caught in his throat, and he looked at her with broken, disbelieving eyes. His heart twisted painfully in his chest.

“So… so you really were the one who made him?” His voice trembled. “You’re the reason he—”

The goddess cut him off with an airy wave of her hand. “Of course. You needed to experience love, didn’t you? It’s something Hera would never understand.”

Her eyes gleamed with a cruel kind of joy, a sickening delight at the heartache she had so carefully orchestrated.

Adam shook his head, tears threatening to well up again as he looked at her. This time, there was no awe in his gaze, only coldness—a bitterness that had taken root deep in his soul. Aphrodite seemed to revel in it, her eyes twinkling with delight.

“Why?” he asked, his voice hoarse with pain. “Why did you make me fall for him? For Lucifer? When he… when he loves someone else?”

Aphrodite tilted her head, her pink lips curling into a sly, knowing smile. Her golden curls shimmered in the light as she regarded Adam with a bemused expression.

“And how are you so sure,” she purred, “That Lucifer is in love with Lilith?”

Adam’s eyes narrowed, his suspicion flaring. He took a defensive step back, shaking his head.

“This… this isn’t a show for you to marvel at,” he whispered, his voice thick with anger and grief. “My pain… it’s not your entertainment.”

Aphrodite threw her head back and laughed, the sound rich and joyful, echoing through the garden like the pealing of bells.

“Oh, my dear,” she said, reaching out as though to brush another strand of hair from Adam’s face, though he flinched away. “Your story isn’t over. Not yet. There is so much more to come, and I can hardly wait to witness it all.”

Adam’s breath hitched, the weight of her words settling heavily in his chest. He turned away, his gaze lingering on the heart-shaped flowers at his feet, their pink petals glistening like tears. His heart throbbed painfully, and though he knew Aphrodite was right—that his story wasn’t finished—he couldn’t help but wish it was.

Because, right now, he wasn’t sure he could take any more of this heartbreak.

“You know, Addie, perhaps forgiveness might be the key to something greater.” Aphrodite hinted knowingly. Her sharp blue eyes flickering towards the hidden Apple of Love. Her apple. “Maybe...you should consider taking a bite~”

Closing his eyes exhaustedly, Adam sighed. He didn’t want to be hurt again.

~#~

Adam tried to ignore the apple of love, the one Aphrodite had left behind like a cruel reminder. He wanted nothing more than to forget it existed, but his resolve weakened every time he returned to the Tree of Life. Despite Cain's watchful, disapproving gaze, Adam found himself holding the red apple in his hands, turning it over and over, its smooth surface warming under his touch.

He couldn't stop wondering about what Aphrodite had said. To bite the apple of love—what would happen to me? The thought was sinful, troubling, but it dug itself deep into his mind. What would Hera, his mother, say if she knew? Would she be disappointed, furious? Or was it destiny, like Aphrodite implied, to feel this pain, to be tempted by love’s impossible promise?

Adam sighed, resting his forehead against his knees as he sat beneath the sprawling branches. The apple's warmth soothed him, but it also gnawed at his thoughts, pulling him into dangerous territory. He found himself questioning more than just his own feelings.

Why can’t anyone take an apple from the Tree of Life? The question spiraled inside him, growing heavier. Why wasn’t Lucifer allowed to take the apple of knowledge? If they were forbidden, then why did they exist at all? Adam furrowed his brow, his chest tightening with the weight of it all. Hera had once said that the tree would be used for mankind in the future, but why wasn’t he allowed to take from it now?

Adam shook his head, trying to shake off the unease, but his thoughts continued to spiral. He was absentmindedly playing with the fallen apple of love when something unexpected happened—something that made his heart skip a beat.

Lucifer had returned.

Adam didn’t hear him at first. Lucifer moved like a shadow, carefully avoiding the attention of the peacocks that lounged about the garden. He knew they wouldn’t take kindly to him, especially not after Adam had told him to leave. And Cain—Cain would be even worse. Lucifer’s wings twitched nervously at the thought of another encounter with the fiery bird.

But he had to try. He had to see Adam. His heart hadn’t been the same since the day Adam had cast him out. The pain of it had gnawed at him relentlessly, and no matter how many times he’d told himself to stay away, he couldn’t. He needed to make Adam understand.

Lucifer landed softly, his gaze darting across the garden. He froze when he saw one of the peacocks watching him, its feathers rippling like a threat. Lucifer’s wings tensed, ready to defend himself. But then the bird stepped out from the shadows, revealing itself to be Abel, his soft pink and white feathers gleaming in the moonlight.

Lucifer sighed in relief; his breath shaky. He crouched down to Abel’s height, whispering urgently, “I’m not here to hurt him, Abel. I just need to see him. Please... My heart hasn’t been the same since that day.”

Abel stared up at him with eyes full of hurt and distrust, his wings twitching as though he could hardly bear to look at Lucifer. But as Lucifer knelt closer, his voice softer, he pleaded, “I know you’re disappointed in me. I didn’t mean to hurt him, Abel. I didn’t. I’m going to make it right. I just need your help.”

For a long, agonizing moment, Abel’s feathers bristled. Lucifer thought for sure the peacock would turn away or call Cain to attack him, but to his surprise, Abel eventually nodded. Without a word, he turned and led Lucifer toward the Tree of Life. Lucifer followed cautiously, his heart pounding with hope.

Abel doesn’t hate me, he thought. There’s still a chance.

As they neared the great tree, Lucifer's breath caught in his throat. The Tree of Life had grown larger, its branches sprawling even more majestically than before. But his blue eyes didn’t linger on the tree for long. All he could focus on was Adam.

Adam sat beneath the tree, bathed in the soft golden light of the sunset, the red apple resting in his hands. Lucifer’s chest tightened at the sight of him. He looked so lost, so fragile, and yet... so beautiful. Lucifer could hardly breathe.

For a moment, he simply watched, unsure of how to approach. But then, a furious squawk shattered the silence, and Lucifer barely managed to dodge as Cain swooped down, claws extended. Lucifer braced for impact, but Abel was faster. In a blur of white feathers, Abel pinned his brother to the ground, shocking both Adam and Lucifer.

Adam blinked in disbelief, his golden eyes wide as Abel casually settled himself atop Cain, keeping him from attacking. Cain struggled beneath him, hissing and spitting, but it was no use—Abel wasn’t moving.

Both Adam and Lucifer stared at each other, frozen in place, neither saying a word. Time seemed to stretch between them, the weight of their unspoken words filling the air. Adam’s hands trembled, and before he could stop himself, the red apple slipped from his fingers, tumbling across the grass.

Lucifer moved instinctively, reaching down to pick it up before Adam could. His fingers brushed over the apple’s smooth surface, and for a moment, the two of them were caught in another staring contest, the apple cradled in Lucifer’s hands like a fragile connection between them.

Adam swallowed hard, his eyes flicking to the apple and then back to Lucifer.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he whispered, though his voice lacked the conviction it once held.

“I know,” Lucifer said softly, his gaze never leaving Adam’s face. “But I had to come. I couldn’t stay away.”

Adam’s heart wavered, torn between the hurt he still felt and the undeniable pull of his feelings for the angel.

“Why... why now?” he asked, his voice breaking.

Lucifer hesitated, his eyes flickering with something raw, something that looked almost like pain. “Because I need you to know... it wasn’t about the apple. It wasn’t about anything else. It was always about you, Adam. I came back for you.”

Adam’s breath hitched, and for a moment, his resolve crumbled. But then, as the apple lay between them, he remembered Aphrodite’s words, the cruel twist of fate that had brought them here. His eyes darkened with the weight of it all.

“I don’t know if I can believe you,” Adam whispered, his voice filled with a sadness that made Lucifer’s chest ache.

The silence between them stretched on, heavy and uncertain, as the red apple gleamed in Lucifer’s hands, a reminder of the love and heartbreak that now bound them together.

Lucifer inhaled sharply, his chest rising and falling as if the weight of the moment pressed against him. His voice was soft, tender, as though he feared breaking the fragile thread between them. “You’re half right,” he began, eyes never leaving Adam’s weary gaze.

Adam turned his head slightly, exhaustion evident in the lines of his face. The pain was still fresh, raw. It was too much, and Lucifer could see it, could feel it hanging heavy in the air between them.

“I thought I was in love with Lilith,” Lucifer admitted, his words trembling like a confession long buried. “I thought... what I felt for her was love. I did come to take the Apple of Knowledge to give to her.”

Adam’s body tensed at the reminder, his heart sinking with a familiar ache. He began to turn away, not wanting to hear more, not wanting to be drawn into Lucifer’s honeyed words again. He had fallen for them before, only to be left shattered.

But Lucifer approached him delicately, his fingers cradling the red apple of love as if it were something sacred. His voice dropped to a whisper, laced with vulnerability. “It couldn’t have been love, because the moment I met you, Adam... you changed everything. You turned my world upside down.”

Adam tried to steady his breath, forcing his attention elsewhere. His fingers dug into the grass beneath him as if trying to anchor himself, trying to resist the pull of Lucifer’s presence. But it was hard. So hard.

Lucifer kneeled beside him, his movements slow and careful, as though approaching a wounded animal. His fingers brushed against Adam’s chin, soft and deliberate, turning Adam’s face toward his own. Their eyes met, and Adam found himself lost again in those endless blue depths—depths that once felt like home but now felt dangerous.

“I fell in love with you,” Lucifer whispered, the words trembling with sincerity. “The real reason I kept sneaking into the garden wasn’t to take anything—it was to see you. I couldn’t stay away. I needed to be near you. I loved the way you looked at me, the way you spoke, the way you made me feel alive.”

Adam’s heart clenched, the familiar pang of betrayal fighting against the undeniable pull Lucifer still had over him. He tried to harden himself, to block it out. But Lucifer’s hand moved gently to his own, guiding it toward his chest, pressing it there.

Adam’s eyes widened in surprise as he felt it—Lucifer’s heart, racing beneath his hand. A wild, frantic beat that seemed to mirror the chaos within Adam’s own chest.

“I’ve been in agony since you told me to leave,” Lucifer continued, his voice low and pleading. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I wanted to come back every moment, to hold you, to make things right.”

Adam shook his head, his throat tight. “I can’t believe you,” he whispered, the weight of disbelief and longing tearing at his resolve.

Lucifer’s grip on his hand tightened gently, his blue eyes piercing through Adam’s uncertainty.

“But you named me,” he said, his voice barely above a breath, filled with a kind of awe. “No one’s ever named me before. Steve, Lilith—they tried, but I never accepted it. I hated every name that was given to me. But the name you gave me, ‘Luci’... it felt right.”

Adam blinked, his heart faltering as he stared at Lucifer. “I... I don’t understand,” he murmured, confused by the depth of emotion in Lucifer’s voice.

“We were always meant to find each other,” Lucifer said, his tone firm with conviction. “I didn’t realize it then, but I do now. You were meant to name me. We were always meant to be... together.”

Adam’s lips parted, but no words came. His mind was spinning, his emotions a tangled mess of pain, anger, and something he didn’t want to admit. Lucifer's words, his presence—it all broke through the walls he had tried so hard to build.

Lucifer’s gaze softened as he looked down at the red apple still in his hand. His voice was gentle as he asked, ���What is this apple, Adam?”

Adam’s breath caught, his throat tight as he whispered, “It’s Aphrodite’s apple. The apple of love.”

Lucifer’s eyes widened, genuine surprise flickering across his face. “I didn’t know...”

“I didn’t know my mother had an apple like this,” he said softly, as though the revelation meant something deeper to him.

Tears brimmed in Adam’s eyes again, the ache in his chest becoming unbearable. He looked at Lucifer, feeling so utterly broken, but so desperate for something—anything—to make sense.

Lucifer moved closer, his hand finding Adam’s cheek, his thumb brushing away the tear that slipped free. The touch was tender, comforting in a way that made Adam want to cry even harder. Then, with a determined glint in his eye, Lucifer brought the apple of love to his lips. He bit into its soft, pink flesh, a burst of sweetness filling his mouth.

Before Adam could react, Lucifer leaned in, his breath warm against Adam’s trembling lips. And then, in one swift, overwhelming moment, their lips met.

The kiss was soft at first, but intense, and it wasn’t just the sensation of their mouths coming together—it was something deeper, something that felt like their very souls were intertwining. The taste of the apple lingered on their lips, sweet and intoxicating, but there was something more to it—something powerful.

Adam’s heart raced, his mind whirling, as he realized what was happening. This wasn’t just a kiss. It was something more, something that tied them together in a way he hadn’t expected. His body trembled, overwhelmed by the sheer intensity of it all.

Lucifer pulled him closer, his arms wrapping around him protectively as if he was afraid to ever let go again.

“I love you, Adam,” he whispered against his lips. “I always have. We’re meant to be together.”

The words echoed in Adam’s mind, breaking through every barrier he had built. It was painful, bittersweet, and yet... it felt real. It felt like something he had been searching for his entire life.

Tears slipped from his eyes as he pulled back slightly, breathless and trembling. He looked into Lucifer’s eyes, searching for any sign of falsehood, but all he saw was sincerity. Love.

And in that moment, Adam realized—he couldn’t fight it anymore. This love, this connection—it was undeniable. Heartbreaking and beautiful all at once.

He had fallen. They both had, just as Aphrodite had intended for them to be.

~#~

Adam trembled, his whole body aching with pure agony and pain, a sensation that gripped him tightly as he lay amidst the red and black waxy ground of the abyss. He wheezed sharply, struggling to push himself up, his muscles quaking as he slowly looked up through the misty redness swirling above him. The ceiling loomed overhead like a dark shroud, an oppressive weight pressing down upon him.

He had just been punished. The harsh reality of Hera’s wrath still lingered in his bones, an electric reminder of the fury that had rained down upon him. She had towered over him, a goddess with eyes like storm clouds, her face contorted with rage. Adam had shrunk within himself, her anger crackling in the air like lightning, each word she hurled at him igniting a deeper sense of despair. Even now, he struggled to comprehend what he had done that was so wrong. He had given the Apple of Knowledge to Lucifer after a passionate night spent entwined in each other’s arms, and in the aftermath, Lucifer had promised to bring it to the humans in Eden, swearing he would return. But he hadn’t.

Instead, the heavens had descended upon him with a wrath that felt all-consuming. Hera, in her fury, had punished him severely, casting him into this endless abyss, where Adam hit the ground painfully.

 “Since you love the forsaken angel so dearly, then you can join him in the pit of sins,” she had hissed, her words curling around him like smoke.

The memories of that moment clawed at his heart, echoing in the silence of his surroundings.

But then, suddenly, a voice cut through the haze, calling his name, a lifeline thrown into the chaos. Adam barely managed to turn his head as someone flew through the crimson mist toward him. Lucifer landed gracefully, urgency etched on his face, and raced toward Adam, gathering him up in his arms.

“Adam!” Lucifer’s voice was a mixture of relief and despair, and Adam fought to focus on his face, but darkness soon claimed him, pulling him under until he fell unconscious.

When Adam awoke, he found himself enveloped in something he had never experienced before. A bed, soft and welcoming, adorned with royal purple sheets and quilts that wrapped around him like a cocoon. Red curtains framed the bed, creating an intimate sanctuary amidst the chaos he had known. The walls were a deep royal red, patterned with shades of purple, and everywhere he looked, he was met with a surprising sight—rubber ducks. Each one was unique, scattered around the room like tiny pieces of joy.

Curiosity nudged him, and he slowly moved to slip off the bed, but his legs buckled beneath him, sending him teetering toward the ground. Just then, Lucifer appeared beside him, hurrying to catch Adam before he fell. His red and gold eyes pulsed with worry, a contrast to the vibrant hues of the room.

“Are you okay?” Lucifer whispered; his voice laced with tenderness.

Adam stared at Lucifer’s face, taking in the details as if he were memorizing a masterpiece. “You look different,” he said softly, his brow furrowing.

Lucifer’s cheeks flushed with a hint of shyness, and he brushed a hand through his slicked-back hair.

“Do you think I’m gross now?” he asked, vulnerability threading through his words.

Adam shook his head vigorously, his heart swelling with warmth. “Of course not! You’re still beautiful,” he replied, a sincerity behind his voice that resonated deep within him.

A sigh of relief escaped Lucifer’s lips, and he leaned in to kiss Adam again, the gesture sweet and filled with longing.

As their lips parted, he whispered against Adam’s mouth, “But you’ve changed too.”

Adam frowned in confusion; his curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”

Lucifer hesitated for a moment, his expression conflicted, before he took Adam’s hand and led him toward a mirror standing elegantly against the wall. When Adam caught sight of himself, his breath hitched in his throat, the reflection revealing a form he hardly recognized.

His cheeks were rounder, dusted with a soft pink tint that glowed with life. But what truly captivated him were the magnificent wings cascading down his back—long and plush, they fluttered softly with a mesmerizing gradient of green and blue, interwoven with hints of orange. They resembled the regal plumes of a peacock, each feather alive with shimmering eyes that sparkled in gold, purple, and orange, echoing the vibrant hues sprouting from his hair.

“Lucifer!” he gasped; his eyes wide with astonishment. “I look like a peacock!”

Lucifer chuckled softly, a glimmer of pride in his gaze. “You’re gorgeous, Adam. You always have been.”

The two exchanged a long, loving look, the connection between them deepening, unbreakable. But then, concern seeped into Adam’s expression, and he asked, “What happened?”

Lucifer sighed deeply, shaking his head as he led Adam back to the bed. They crawled under the quilts, seeking comfort in each other’s warmth.

“After you picked the Apple of Knowledge,” he began, his voice heavy with sorrow, “you gave it to Lilith. At first, nothing happened. The other angels were furious and created a new wife for Steve—a woman named Eve. But then Lilith wanted to free Eve too and tried to give the apple to her. Eve accepted it and bit into it.”

Adam listened intently, his heart pounding as he grasped the gravity of what had transpired. “What happened next?” he asked, gently caressing Lucifer’s cheek, the fallen angel leaning into the touch.

Lucifer’s expression darkened as he continued, “I don’t know why Zeus showed himself then, but when he did, he was furious. He cast Eve out of Eden, and Steve... he must really love her because he decided to leave Eden to be with Eve.”

Silence enveloped them, and Adam could feel the weight of it pressing against him. He wanted to reach out, to comfort Lucifer, to reassure him that everything would be alright.

“That’s why you didn’t come back,” Adam said quietly, realization dawning upon him.

Lucifer nodded; his expression tormented. “Every day down here was torture. I wanted to come back to you, Adam. I was so worried about what the gods would do to you.”

Adam swallowed hard, the ache in his heart deepening. “Hera was furious. She was even more enraged when she discovered I had actually given you the apple.”

A look of pain crossed Lucifer’s face, and he clenched his jaw. “I hate them,” he said bitterly. “I hate the gods. Even my own mother, Aphrodite.”

Adam leaned in, kissing him sweetly, a soft gesture meant to soothe the wounds that ran deep between them. But then, as he pulled back, a troubling thought entered his mind—the realization that Lilith was down here too, and there was a possibility he could meet her.

Lucifer sensed the shift in Adam’s emotions, and he tightened his arms around him, pulling him closer.

“Lilith created a castle for herself,” he reassured softly. “We can visit her later. But for now, I just want to be with you.”

Lucifer’s gaze softened, and the spoke of the mansion he had created for them, with its glorious apple tree garden, hope shining in his eyes.

“I hope you’ll like it,” he said, a hint of vulnerability in his tone.

Adam nuzzled his bird-like face against Lucifer’s, his heart swelling with affection.

“I’m sure I will,” he murmured. “And this time, we can pick all the apples we want.”

Lucifer grinned at that, a smile breaking through the weight of their shared sorrows. In that moment, the abyss that had once threatened to swallow them whole felt a little less suffocating, a little more like a place where they could forge a new beginning together. The pain and heartbreak would always be a part of them, but so too would be love—a love that was fierce, tender, and unyielding.

"Yes! Let's pick all the apples with want!"

[amymaleneart]

Got an inspiration hit for @missterious-figure Wine and Feathers AU.

So here's the next part what I'm going to call,

"The Mail Service Trilogy."

Enjoy!

Another package has arrived and waiting for you at your desk. This time, it is for Moon. He doesn’t often order things for himself besides the usual basics of skincare and feather-care maintenance. What does surprise you is that this box came from a high-end confectionery store.

You know as their handler that hapries, or birds in general, cannot eat processed sugar. It’s technically not toxic to them, but consuming sugar still isn’t good for them since it’s not naturally found in nature. The only “sweets” they are allowed to have are the ones found in fruit. Granted, harpies can have a little but the casino has to order the sugary treats and syrups from a manufacturer that specialize in exotic pets. Otherwise they couldn’t enjoy their virgin cocktails while entertaining the guests.

(You found yourself cringe at the thought of any of the harpies labeled as “pets”.)

So it is definitely a surprise for you to find that Moon was able to order some from an unapproved establishment. How did he pull this off? You might as well find out so he doesn’t do this again. You bring the package with you so you can have evidence that he did, in fact, made this order since the invoice has his name as the buyer. For being a peacock, he does like to weasel out of situations that he causes.

You went out into the big aviary straight to the tree that Moon likes to perch in when he is in between shows.

“Moon! Where are you?” You continue to look up into the tree, expecting to at least see his long tail feathers with the blue and yellow eyes sticking out of the branches like a silvery waterfall, cascading down the brilliant greenery.

“Moon?”

This is starting to make you nervous because when he doesn’t come when he’s called, he’s usually going to…

You are suddenly picked up from behind with an indignity “yelp!” on your part, and whisk away into the trees like an eagle that caught himself a tasty fish. And you’re the fish.

Once settled, you found yourself being snuggle tightly against the white and blue torso of the mischievous harpy, while sitting comfortably on his incredibly yet strong lap.

“R-really M-moon? How m-many times have I t-told you n-not to do that,” you say as you tried and failed to keep the fluster out of your voice. You hear his devilish cackle at your expense as his response, snuggling his head into the nook of your neck. “But you sound so beautiful when you scream. I just have to hear it again.”

You can feel your whole body heats up to a point that you bet if this was a cartoon, you would turn into a thermometer as you go completely red. You start to quiver, causing you to shake with the package still somehow in your hand, causing a simple rattling noise. Moon finally takes notice and creates a happy trill at seeing the package.

“Wonderful. I was starting to think this will never show up.” Being completely stunned from his affection, Moon easily takes the box from your hands and opens it to reveal his order.

He pulls out an elegant f/c box of chocolates, tied in a satin blue ribbon with a familiar silver peacock feather pattern sewn into the fabric, letting the original packaging fall from the tree. He slowly unties the ribbon in a delicate manner, just to retie it to your neck in a cute little bow like a show puppy. Moon takes a moment to admire his work with his brilliant rose red eyes, as he stares ever so lovingly into your cherry red face.

After he gets his fill, he removes the lid of a box to expose the most delicious assortment of sweets you have ever seen.

It is when he grabs one between his gloved fingers that you finally snap out of it to shout, “Moon wait! You cannot eat tha–” Your urgent words get muffled as he slips one of the expensive confectionaries into your open mouth.

“Hush, little starlight. It’s not for me.” he says with his rumbling baritone voice.

Your eyes open wide as the sweet explodes with flavor as it melts in your mouth. Then you realize that is one of your favorite flavors!

You swallow down the tasty treat in order to ask, “How did you–” another one gets placed into your mouth.

Moon chuckles as he says, “I’ll tell you, but only if you let me feed you each and every treat that’s in. this. box.”

Part One: Done in an ask - Part Two: Here - Part Three: Over There

[cattonicdragon]

could you do mantis, tigress, viper, po, shen, tai lung, kai x a white peacock reader that can manipulate all forms of physics? For reference, the White Peacock Reader has the ability to manipulate all forms of physics regardless of laws. Other have sent you this type of question, so I am sending you this type of question. And I love your stuff too.

mantis,tigress,viper,po,shen,tai lung and kai x white peacock reader who can manipulate all forms of physics

I'm glad you like my stuff! And of course I can

Not been proof read yet I just wanted to post it 😭

Mantis

He finds you beauty and grace very admirable

You fight with such ferocity and grace it's almost unbelievable

He thinks that your powers are really cool but also really scary since they dont abide to any of the laws

Meaning you can do things that shouldn't physically be possible

Thinks that your some kind of God or something,maybe you've just been blessed by the gods

Not to much sparing,he fears that hell be crushed before he can even move

He asks to trace the patterns on your feathers(if you have any patterns)

He wonders if your tail can get in the way when fighting

Your fighting style is literally drop dead gorgeous

Saw you phase through a wall once,cant unsee it

Scary for in battle but very useful as an ally

He asks if you know why your white instead of the usually colours

Very curious about you

Your very mysterious

Tigress

She finds your beauty breath taking but remembers during battle not to be distracted

Shes curious of how you got your powers,did you learn them?,if so who was your master?,were you born with them?,does it run in your family?

Lots of questions

Training constantly

You've bested her more times then she cares to admit

She'll say that you cheated

Shes not saying that because she thinks you incapable,shes just saying that to try and mend her wounded pride

Her leg has phased through you and she lost the match because her brain practically stopped working for a minute or so

She likes to stay on your good side,mainly because she genuinely fears your powers

She believes that you can control them well but the things you can do,shouldn't be humanly/animaly possible

She likes to help clean your tail if you allow her

She wonders how you can fight with such a big tail

She fears fears what people will say when she tells them she lost a match to you,so you tell her that she can say you lost sometimes

She finds it scary and impressiv how much you can do,you can control things like the weather,solid matter etc.

She asks about your origins and if there may have been a particular reason as to why you were born as a white peacock with such immense power

Viper

brought to you by the same gif,again

As a previous ribbon dancer she likes to see the art in different peopls kung fu/fighting style,which meand she loved the way you fight

Such precision and beauty

She thinks your way to overpowerd

Like if you wanted to you could legit just walk on water

Dont like cold noodles?,ok lemme just,heat that up for u rq

She likes to stay relatively on your good side

She will ask to put flowers in your feathers,if you allow her to she will be ecstatic

Such a sweet heart

If you give her a feather as a gift of luck she may just pass out

If you have any patterns on your feathers she likes to trance them with her tail or just look at it

Shes scared to get priced by your sharp talons in battle/sparing

Loves your feathers

Shes curious to your feather colour being white but wont dig or think to deep about it

She just puts it down as being an unique quality of yours

Your tail can get annoying every so often

She likes how you input your tail into your fighting style

Po

Your white feathers give him a tad bit of PTSD

He find the way you fight majestical,almost as if hes watching a play

He likes your feather and asks how you keep them so clean

He would be very hesitant with you sometimes due to the fact you remind him of someone

He thinks white suits you

Hes very surprised,fascinated and intrigued apon finding out about your powers

Your powers are like nothing hes ever seen before and he loves it

He likes to have long training sessions with you to try find a weakspot

He wants you to try teach him

Even if you tell him it's your genes and not taught he will still ask,there no hurt in trying

Liked your tail but it is very big

He likes making noodles for you both and sitting under a tree on a rainy day,knowing that your the reason your both not drenched in water

He wonders how you obtained such power and wonders what It would be like going all on out dragon warrior against you

He gets distracted by your feather alot

If you were to ever give him a feather hed treat it like a treasure that needs to be protected at any cost

Likes to watch your methods of fighting because he wants to try doing it himself

Shen

Hes rather shocked apon learning that there another white peacock

And your very powerful

In some ways hes happy that theres another peacock since he wont feel as lonely being the only white one but then again he in some ways feels like that was a huge part of his character

Apon first meeting you he gets extremely defensive and accuses you of being an imposter,even though you never said a single thing

Has alot of curiosity about your powers

Shen will try test your limits and see if you just unleash your powers out of pure emotion,he has morbid curiosity

He likes to spar ALOT

He likes to talk to you about how he created the cannons aswell as what he did to get the result

Hes very clingy and will often hang around you

Should anyone speak bad about you if you dont handle it,he will gladly

He finds a sick kind of pleasure from having so powerfull by his side

He throws firework shows for you

If you are good with close combat he will get a custom commissioned weapon of your choice for you

Tai lung

Although he finds your white feathers beautiful he also feels threatened

The pure reason for this is power

Hes been a star student for so long,the best of the best and you show up and have more power than him

Hes very stand off ish at first

He warms up to you eventually,its just a case of him getting there

He comes to find the brutality and accuracy of your fighting method

He trains with you at any given chance,hes not afraid to fight someone stronger than him and he will most likely go in blind,refusing to learn anything from his opponent

He asks if your methods can be taught and is a bit sulky if it cant

Hes not going to underestimate you by a long shot,hes more likely to overestimate you

He finds you feathers pretty and can momentarily find himself losing focus in training

If you gave him a feather he'd treat it as if it were his life sorce

He believes that when he achieves the dragon scroll you two will finally be even

Kai

Other than oogway he hasnt seen such powerful chi before

Nor has he seen the types of power you weild

Your a mystery at first,a mysterious white peacock shows up one day and has practically limitless power?

Hes going to be after your chi,no doubts

After awhile it's much like having a frenemy

"Still havnt given up your chi,(name)?""still havnt defeated oogway,kai?"

Its can go back and forth like this for a very long time,which it usually ends with you slipping through solid matter to escape

It gets to the point whether hes unsure if he still wants to take your chi

It would give him so much raw power but hes grown...fond of you

Which he hates to admit and probally wont

Once you become acquaintances tho it will turn into sparring seasons often

He brings his jombies out every so often to spice things up

He likes how smoothly you execute your kung fu moves/attacks

However in the end he still technically got what he wanted,just differently

[raspberry-rampage]

Jagna's crown in The Peasants (2023)

To begin with, I really liked this film in many, many aspects, so this is by no means hate on it.

Buuut if there's one tiny thing that they could've done better... is to double down on the folk stuff. What I mainly mean is Jagna's crown. It's like a nod towards tradition but... Her dress is very city-like imo, white, embroidered with what seems sparkly (meaning expensive) threads. Meanwhile, the crown is small and made of lace, peacock feathers, blueberries??, plants I don't recognise. Don't get me wrong, it's pretty and huge respect to the maker. In the og book, regarding the crown, we read: "Her hair, braided over her forehead, bore above it a rich pile of gold spangles, and peacock’s eyes, and sprigs of rosemary. Therefrom, down to her nape and shoulders, fell long ribbons of every hue;" (translation by Michael Dziewicki). It was also described as tall but I guess it was lost in translation.

Well, just compare this:

to these:

These are from Łowicz which is kinda in the region where Lipce is.

Anyway, this film is not super historically accurate (there's no way they would let Jagna have her hair down, not braided at all) but they did try. Overall, it's a nice introduction to the culture and an invitation to explore more on your own.

More on flower crowns in this brilliant article with more gorgeous examples by lamus dworski.

[1-800-deactivatednearu]

[i.d.: spy and soldier as drag kings. spy sits with his legs wide, wearing a peacock coloured cropped blazer with coattails and magenta cuff links. the lining of his coat matches the cuff links in a magenta to orange ombre gradient. he wears an ascot the same colour. he wears a black leather underbust corset and gloves. his pants are shiny and dark blue, his hat a similar dark blue with a magenta ribbon and a peacock feather. his balaclava is blue. wrapped around one hand is a leash, to which soldier is collared to. solder stands behind him, a leg propped up behind spy. soldier wears a camo hat and pants, his thumbs tucked into the belt loops. his boots are leather, and he wears a harness with attached shoulder pads. both of them are smoking. /end i.d.]

the only reason why soldier has top surgery is because i think he would say he lost his nipples in the war and everyone would believe him without question, including himself. especially himself.

the thought process here is honestly that both characters are performing masculinity so hard. soldier with his god bless america oorah and spy with his james bond schtick, so naturally. naturally?

soldier goes by daddy sam (as opposed to uncle sam) and spy goes by bondage. james bondage.

woop that is this drawing finally posted after months

(he/him pronouns for daddy sam and james bondage please!)

[sallysavestheday]

Good luck with work! Here's a sentence for you <3

Fingon knew he should not have survived it.

Thank you! You got me through some frustrating times today :). Have some young Fingon encountering the Feanorions for the first time (ignore all canonical age discrepancies and embrace the spirit of the thing):

Fingon knew he should not have survived it. He had ignored his father’s caution and gone to meet his cousins dressed vainly in the colors of his House – the bright blue silk and peacock feathers gleamed against the shadow of his skin, and he knew the silver and sapphires at his ears and throat would deepen the brilliance of his eyes. But the horde of them in their scarlet and gold only grinned with sharpened teeth. It was Curufin (maybe –  all the unfriendly faces looked alike) who said what they were thinking, cool as ice: “Blue and silver, indeed. You could not have chosen better to demonstrate how far we are from kin, Indision.” Fingon would not cry; he blinked and smiled and swallowed as Maedhros frowned. Then his eldest cousin’s long, pale fingers were tugging a ribbon free from his own sleeve, gesturing to ask permission, winding the gilded tape around Fingon’s braid.   “Hush, Curvo; don't be unkind.” Maedhros’ eyes were sparkling, and Fingon's heart swelled at the rescue; he basked in the warmth of Maedhros' soft and private smile. “There you are, cousin; all you needed was a little touch of gold.”   

I'm taking one-sentence prompts for the next two weeks as an incentive for getting other stuff done. Send one in and I'll send you six (or so) back!

[nixie-writes]

Octavia x Cousin Reader - I Belong

I wrote this a little while ago and it's not my best but I need to post something while my wrist heals so have this. The reader is Andrealphus' daughter (but you can easily change the pronouns).

You awoke to the sun shining in your face, blazing in your eyes. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you crawled out of your bed and walked up to your mirror. Your servant, Lamb, approached you. “How are you doing this morning, [Y/N]?” You fluffed your feathers, smiling in the mirror. “Oh I’m doing wonderful, Lamb! Today is the day I meet my cousin!” You explained, allowing her to use gel to smooth out your feathers. The imp walked over to your closet and pulled out a pink dress with ribbons. “Your father suggests you wear the dress your aunt Stella bought you for this occasion,” Lamb told you as she approached you with the dress. You nodded in agreement. “I want to look my best for this!” You exclaimed excitedly. Lamb nodded; “you will look absolutely stunning, Miss [Y/N].”

After Lamb took off your nightgown and put on your dress she grabbed your makeup. “Now Miss [Y/N] stay still while I apply your foundation, concealer and eyeshadow.” She instructed as she sat you down on your vanity. You rolled your eyes. “Oh Lamb, you know father says I don’t need makeup; I’m beautiful without it.” You told her, sitting down at your vanity and examining yourself in the mirror. Lamb nodded her head in agreement. “That is true Miss [Y/N] but you know how Miss Stella is; she wants you to look your best for this meeting.” She told you as she applied foundation to your face. You tried your best to stay still while she did your makeup but you could hardly contain your excitement. 

“Lamb, do you think Octavia will like me?” You asked her, your worries resurfacing. You’d been looking forward to this occasion for a month now but you were concerned your cousin wouldn’t like you. Lamb patted your back reassuringly. “Don’t worry Miss [Y/N], I’m sure your cousin is just as thrilled as you are to finally meet.” You looked up at her and smiled. “Thank you, Lamb.” Lamb smiled down at you, rubbing your shoulder. “Of course Miss [Y/N],” she responded. 

You ran to the kitchen, excited to see what Archibald, Andrealphus’ butler, was making for breakfast. Lamb scuttled after you, trying to keep pace. You skidded to a halt at the entrance to the kitchen, taking a deep sniff. “Mmm, pancakes!” You exclaimed as you ran in. Your father was already sitting at the food table, reading his newspaper. You skipped over to him, peering at the newspaper. “Hello, father!” You greeted him, climbing in his lap. He chuckled and patted you on the head. 

“Hello my little peacock,” he replied, rubbing your head. You peeked over the table to get a look at the newspaper. It was advertising a party hosted by Stella, your aunt. This party would be when you got to meet your cousin for the first time. “Father, do you think Octavia will like me?” You inquired, gazing up at him. He produced a couple of ice cubes for his tea and replied, “of course my dear, why wouldn’t she?” You wriggled out of your father’s lap and moved to your own seat, scooching up and placing a napkin into your dress to prepare for your breakfast. 

Shortly after you arrived Archibald placed a plate of pancakes in front of you and refilled Andrealphus’ tea. “Father, why are you not eating?” You inquired. Andrealphus looked up from his tea and responded, “I’ll be eating at the party so I want to save my appetite. I told Archibald to only give you two pancakes so you’ll still have an appetite without being hungry.” You nodded in understanding and dug into your pancakes, eating them up in record time. You were always a clean eater and didn’t get anything on your napkin. 

“Don’t forget to brush your teeth,” Andrealphus reminded you as you finished your milk. You replied with a muffled sound of agreement. Setting down your empty cup you ran to the restroom, grabbing your toothbrush and toothpaste. After brushing your teeth until they gleamed you ran back to your father, who had Archibald pressing his tail feathers with gel. “Are you ready to go, my little peacock?” He asked you, examining your dress. It aws pink with ribbons and frills. “My sister made a good choice in that dress, it does suit you well,” he complimented. You did a little twirl to show off your dress and Andrealphus clapped. “You look lovely dear, get ready to leave.” You ran to your room and grabbed your favorite toy, a plush unicorn with wings. Its mane and tail were rainbow colored, the body was white and the wings were pink with glitter embedded in them. 

Your father waited at the door as you rushed up to him, unicorn plush held between your hands. “Father, I’m worried; what if they don’t like me? I’ve never met these demons before,” you voiced your concern. Your father shook his head. “Don’t worry my little peacock, if someone doesn’t like you pay them no mind. You belong in the Goetia family,” he assured you. You clutched your unicorn plush as you followed him out the door, Lamb and Archibald following. Andrealphus opened the door to the limousine for you and you climbed inside, him closing the door behind you. He walked around the limo to his seat near the front, sitting behind Lamb and Archibald as they started up the vehicle. You looked down onto the floorboards of the vehicle, kicking your feet back and forth with anxiety. You were worried your cousin wouldn’t like you and no one could assure you otherwise. 

When you finally arrived at the palace Stella and her husband, Stolas, lived in, Lamb opened the door for you and you clambered out of the limousine, glancing around. It was a tall palace, almost reflecting the sun. The doors were decorated with stained glass and there were many pillars. It was daunting to you. You would have turned back if it weren’t for your father taking your hand and leading you to the door. He knocked twice and an imp answered the door, presumably a butler. “Oh, Sir Andrealphus! Miss [Y/N]! What an honor; please, come inside.” The butler led the both of you into the palace and into the party room. Across from you were three owl demons. One was a tall, lanky owl wearing a dark red tunic and beige pants that went to his knees, and a tattered cape accessorized with feathers. Beside him was a female owl demon wearing a white dress with puffed sleeves and feather trimming with black accents. Between them was a small owl demon wearing a pink dress with white stars adorning it. You recognized her as your cousin but you were too shy to approach her. 

“Stolas, Stella!” Andrealphus greeted, hugging his sister, your aunt. “I assume this is your precious little Via?” He inquired, petting her head. She nodded meekly, clutching her dress. You fiddled with your unicorn plush, waiting for your father to introduce you. 

“This here is my darling daughter, [Y/N],” Andrealphus stated as he moved to stand beside you. Next to him you were almost a carbon copy of him, blue feathers at your chest with an ice emblem and everything. You walked across the room to your cousin, meeting her for the first time. “Hello, Octavia,” you said, bowing to her. “I’m [Y/N],” you introduced yourself. Octavia examined you closely. “You’re my cousin?” She asked, looking you up and down. You gulped. What if she didn’t like you? All your past anxieties came flooding back to your mind. 

“Do you wanna play with dolls?” Octavia asked, snapping your attention back to her. You stared at her dumbfoundedly for a minute before nodding your head excitedly. “Sure!” You replied. She took your hand and led you out of the ballroom and to her bedroom on the second floor. When you entered you were surprised with all the space themed stuff she owned. Star-shaped pillows, starry wallpaper, blanket with stars on it, countless space themed items and clothes. It made sense with Stolas studying the moon and stars, that he would give his daughter a space themed room. 

Octavia opened a drawer and pulled out two dolls, one a bunny and the other a turtle. “I heard there’s this human game where a hare and a turtle race, wanna play that?” She offered. You weren’t sure what to do but you nodded your head in agreement. 

You two had been playing with dolls for about 30 minutes when Lamb opened the bedroom door. “Miss Octavia, Miss [Y/N], dinner is served,” she said before rushing off to help Archibald with the plates. You grabbed your unicorn plush and followed Octavia down the stairs to the dining room. There were many chairs, presumably for a party. You took a seat beside Octavia. The five of you ate your meals and Stolas sent you two off to Octavia’s room for the night to sleep. 

You and Octavia shared her bed, there was plenty of room for two children. You dozed off for about an hour when yelling woke you up. You awoke with a jerk to the sound of Stella screaming at Andrealphus. You couldn’t quite make out what was being said so you snuck out of Octavia’s room and down the stairs, standing just outside of the dining room. 

“Andrealphus that child is a nightmare! If she were mine she’d have gone to an orphanage by now!” It struck you like lightning: she was talking about you. For a split second fear threatened to sweep you off your feet - what if your father listened and put you up for adoption? “Stella please, keep that opinion to yourself,” you heard Stolas try to reason with her. You were frozen solid. You couldn’t walk in there and beg her to like you, nor could you go in there at all. You were supposed to be asleep. 

“As if I’d ever! [Y/N] is my daughter whether you like her or not. She’s your niece and you’ll have to live with it,” Andrealphus told Stella. You heard her snort. “Good luck with that nightmare,” she said and began walking away from your hiding spot. Andrealphus sighed, turning and walking towards your hiding spot. You were still frozen in shock and couldn’t move, you could only hope you were in a dark enough spot to where he wouldn’t see you. Luckily he had his face in his bands as he walked out of the dining room, meaning he didn’t see you. You breathed a sigh of relief that you weren’t aware you were holding. 

You snuck back up the stairs into Octavia’s room and climbed in the bed, tears in your eyes. Your movement woke Octavia and she rolled to face you, blinking sleep from her eyes. “Are you okay?” She asked, sitting up when she saw your tears. You sat on the bed and placed your face on your knees, wrapping your arms around your head to hide the tears. You choked on a sob. 

“It was mum, wasn’t it?” She asked, rubbing your back. How did she know? “She always makes dad cry; I can tell she said something that struck a nerve. What did she say?” You sniffed, rubbing tears from your eyes. “Um, she said that my father should put me up for adoption because I’m a nightmare to put up with,” you confessed. Octavia gasped loudly, pulling you into a hug. “She has bad thoughts on others but I promise you won’t be put up for adoption, I won’t let them,” Octavia promised. As a child who didn’t understand you trusted her, hugging her back and crying into her sleep gown. 

---

“We’ll meet at Stylish Occult, right? …Okay, see you there.” You hung up the phone and called for Lamb, your buttress. She came at your beckon and climbed into your limousine. “To Stylish Occult as per usual please,” you requested as you checked your texts. It wasn’t like Via to want to meet on weekends. You didn’t know why but she refused to meet on weekends but now she wanted to? What was the plan here?

When you arrived at Stylish Occult you climbed out of the limousine and entered. Looking at the taxidermy was the easily recognizable Octavia and a face you never expected to see: Stella’s. You gulped. Before you could make a beeline for the door Octavia turned around and noticed you. “Hey, [Y/N]!” She called out to you. Stella turned around, shaping you up and down with disapproving eyes. Meekly you approached her, trying to avoid Stella’s stare. Before you could make it to Octavia Stella scoffed. “You seriously invited her here? You know how I feel about her,” Stella said, rolling her eyes. You felt a smidge of defiance. 

“You know Stella, I’m a Goetia, whether you like it or not,” you started in on her, grabbing her attention. “I get you don’t like me but you can keep your fucking opinions to yourself; Via and I are cousins and I’m your niece, live with it.” You glared at her, ready to get physical if she chose to throw a slap at you for disrespecting her. She only snorted. 

“My daughter can do as she pleases, but I would be embarrassed to be seen with such a disappointment,” she shot back at you before leaving the store. Octavia grabbed the taxidermy she wanted and paid for it, and bought you a shirt for a band you really liked. 

“I’m surprised you stood up to my mum like that,” she said as she examined her new taxidermy. You shrugged; “she deserves it, I’m part of the Goetia family whether she likes it or not,” you told her. Octavia giggled, “Wanna get ice cream after this?” She offered. You nodded your head in agreement. “Yeah, sure,” you agreed, tucking your new shirt into your purse. 

[molkolsdal]

The colourful and elaborate headgear that identifies a Brokpa is known as Tepi. Tepi has various colourful props attached to it and is embellished with berry flowers. Locals believe that the Tepi wards off the evil eye. How fascinating is that? What’s even more fascinating is that each prop on the headgear has its own unique significance. For example the seven coloured ribbons are there to ward off any ailment caused by the sun and eclipse. The silver brooches ward off planetary influences and the peacock feathers help to ward off paralysis.

Aamir Wani

[sweetbillwriting]

The Finer Things

Mask On, Mask Off - Part 4

Description: Ines lives a modest life in Brooklyn but has a secret, a valuable painting. Out of nowhere Vincent De Gramont appears and wants to help her sell it. He welcomes her into a life of luxury the question is just why?

Characters: Vincent De Garmont, The Marquis, From John Wick 4.

Setting: This story is set in my own universe, so not exactly the John Wick universe.

Warnings: 18+, prejudice and stereotypical thinking about nationalities, mentions about sex, mentions about prostitution.

She was at The Louvre. She would go to an event at The Louvre. Ines looked at the impressive glass pyramid outside of the museum with Vincent next to her. The car had just dropped them off and she wasn't prepared for the event being at the world’s most famous art museum. Christ, the Mona Lisa was hanging there!

She looked around with big eyes while Vincent showed their invitation for the guard. There were rich, well dressed people everywhere. The men in formal wear and the women in sleek dresses, showing off stereotypical Parisian curves, in other words, not many curves at all. Even if Ines was dressed up she felt like a stain on white silk. All the women looked perfect in high heels and smooth hair but it was also one more detail that stood out. All of them wore masks, extravagant masks fitting for a masquerade party in the 1800th century.

She had known she wouldn't fit in but had believed she would feel more okay with it but now didn't feel as sure. Without saying anything the Marquis took her hand and pulled her into a corner, hidden by a pillar. Ines looked at him curiously while he stretched out his hand. In it was a red mask, decorated with rhinestones in a similar color.

“I thought you would have a red dress,” he said, not as an excuse, more as it was just annoying facts. Ines looked at the mask.

“Will everyone have these sort of masks? Is it a orgy party or something?” She asked while putting the mask against her face. Vincent didn't say anything, just put on his own extravagant mask in black but with peacock feathers and gold glitter.

“Why is your mask so much prettier than mine?” Whined Ines and looked at her own mask again.

“Because I let a designer do it. I didn't have time to get one for you. I didn't know I would have a date for the night.”

Ines looked up at him from her mask, meeting his green eyes surrounded by the colorful feathers.

“Date?” Said Ines as a reflex.

“Yes. They call a guest a date in the invitation so you're my date.”

The Marquis didn’t give away any emotions so Ines accepted his answer.

“Should I help you with that one?” He nodded towards her mask and Ines took up it towards her face again. Vincent walked around her to tie it around her head, making a perfect bow with the red ribbon but it wasn't anything Ines noticed, how he put energy to make it completely symmetrical.

“When we are inside I will let you mingle,” said Vincent bluntly and fixed his cufflinks.

“Okay,” said Ines with a nod, she knew how to mingle.

“And I will be… around,” continued Vincent. Ines looked up at him with furrowed brows.

“Around? You mean we will not go together?”

“I promise you, having a tall, handsome, well dressed man like me by your side will not make rich men talk to you. It's better if you mingle alone, tell them about your painting… Maybe you can flirt a little?” He said the last part carefully, like he had encouraged her to prostitution. Ines smirked and looked down on her feet. It was noticeable he hadn't understood how her Friday nights used to look. She was an expert at flirting, how else would you get free stuff?

“Okay. That's fine. But can I call if there is something?”

Vincent looked down at her again and as a symbolic gesture he opened his jacket, showing off his phone in the inner pocket, but also a gun sticking up from the waistband of his suit pants.

“I will answer.”

×××

It came natural for Ines to mingle around with people and even if she was nervous at first, walking around among all the rich fine people she relaxed quickly. Behind the mask she could be someone else and instead feeling like the stupid American girl, she felt exotic and sexy. There were many curious eyes on her.

She told people about her painting, flirted and received business cards. She felt pleased with herself when she called Vincent. She hadn't seen him all night but if she was honest, when she was her flirty self he would just be in the way.

“Already done? Someone interested?” He said calmly. Ines stood in a corner outside the ladies restroom talking with The Marquis on the phone. She was a little tipsy on champagne and leaned against the wall. She couldn't understand how these rich people could drink so much without seeming affected.

“I have twelve business cards…” she said, pleased. Vincent cleared his throat.

“Mhm.”

“What? Isn't that good?” Ines said disappointed.

“No it's good…” The Marquis sounded weirdly detached and Ines felt the nerves come up again.

“Can we meet where the car dropped us off?” He asked.

“So we should leave now? I really thought it would be an orgy,” she joked but didn't get a reaction from Vincent.

“Just meet me, now.”

Ines had a weird feeling while walking out to Vincent. There was something that felt off. It was everything from his mood, the gun but also the fact she hadn't seen him all night. It felt like he was hiding something.

He stood by the black car without his mask, Ines took off hers too and walked up to him with quick steps. He looked irritated, with pursed lips and his hands deep in his pockets.

“Are you seriously irritated with me for something? I just did what you told me to do!” She said annoyed and crossed her arms. Vincent looked her up and down and she could see his hands move in his pants pockets. He cleared his throat and seemed to examine her face.

“Just let’s go home…” he muttered and opened the door for her. Ines rolled her eyes and jumped in. It felt like she could never do anything right. It had felt so promising in the beginning of the night.

In the hotel she walked to her room and pulled off the uncomfortable dress and put on a big t-shirt. She was ready to go to bed. She had nothing to do, no good company and was also tired by all the champagne she had been drinking but when she had just crawled down under the cover a light knock could be heard against her door.

“Come in,” she said just so Vincent would understand he could actually open the door and walk in and he did. He wore just his slacks and the suit shirt, his suspenders hanging on his hips. He had a glass in his hand and looked at her softly.

“I'm sorry for my bad mood…”

“Did I do something wrong?” Asked Ines carefully and played with the cover.

“No, no… It was just something else…” he said with a sigh. To Ines surprise he suddenly sat down on the side of her bed and placed his glass on her night stand. They weren't even three feet from each other. If she leaned forward she would have been able to look down his shirt, see his smooth chest but Vincent's usually proper manner made her feel weird about it.

“Do you want to talk about it?” She said softly. Maybe he had things he needed to talk with a friend about but didn't have any friends? He gave her a look. He looked intoxicated and she wondered what the amber liquid in his glass was. The Marquis licked his lips and with some hesitation he leaned towards her and kissed her lips softly. Ines had seen it happen, his smooth but doubtful movement and felt her pulse go up at once. He actually kissed her. His lips were soft and plump and he tasted strong of the spirit. He opened his eyes slowly, they were obviously affected by alcohol but maybe something more. Ines couldn't tell.

“Do it again…” she whispered. Vincent laid his hand on her neck and with his thumb on her jugular, he pushed her face up towards his. He kissed her again, more determined this time and it made Ines moan into his mouth. He continued kissing her and a sneaky tongue pushed in between her lips. Even if she got exactly what she had wanted she wasn't pleased and stood up on her knees to be able to deepen their kisses even more. She moved his hand down from her neck to her waist where the thin cotton t-shirt was the only barrier between his hand and her naked body. With a hard grip around her waist he pulled her close to his body and leaned back on his elbow. The kisses heated fast and his hand moved up so his thumb dragged on the underside of her breast. To be close to Vincent was too amazing and Ines couldn't stop the giggle from jumping out from her full lips.

“And you said you weren't interested at all…” she teased and looked at Vincent's intoxicated eyes. For a moment she thought he would smile but it turned to a painful grimace and he shoved her away softly but determinedly.

“Of course you were forced to talk…” he muttered and stood up. Ines looked at him confused but it turned to anger fast.

“What do you mean with that? What? You come into my room and push your tongue into my mouth but think I should just be quiet??” She said upset and got a hard gaze from Vincent back. He snatched up his glass from the night stand and then turned to the door.

“Forget this happened.”

He chugged the last of the spirit in his glass and put it down on the stand again before walking to the door.

“C'est juste une jolie fille… Ne détruis pas tout pour une chatte…”

He muttered for himself. Ines looked at him upset, she was sure he had said something bad about her and without thinking she threw a pillow in his head. His perfect hair got ruined by his neck and he stopped in his steps.

“Did you just throw a pillow in my head?” He said through his teeth and turned around slowly. Ines felt a knot in her stomach when she saw his killer look. This was not the man she had been with this last week.

“No?” she swallowed hard and sank down on the mattress.

The Marquis stood and looked at her with dark eyes before walking up to her slowly. Ines felt panic spread in her body, would he hit her?

“Up!” He exclaimed when he stood by the bed. Ines looked down at the cover and swallowed hard but then did as he said. She was too afraid to find out what would happen if she didn't do what he said. She stood just in front of him. Even if she wasn't that short she felt tiny when she stood in front of him. He had his arms crossed and she could see the veins trying to push out from his skin.

“I should… Punish you for your behavior… But…” he threw his head back and groaned loudly. In a fast movement he attacked her lips with his, so hard it felt like she would fall. Ines just kissed back with a beating heart. She let her emotions guide her now and just let it happen. Her otherwise questioning self would have asked what he actually wanted but his kisses were too passionate to stop just to ask such a question.

Vincent sat down on the bed and with a hand on the back of her thigh he prompted her to straddle his lap. She just followed his directions and let herself disappear into his bubble where it tasted like spirits and spearmint and smelled like floral perfume and vanilla. She was used to men smelling bad or wearing too strong cologne but he smelled of the scents she herself liked.

Vincent threaded his fingers through her hair and with a light pull he got her to lean back.

“Yes I am interested. Okay? But I can't be. I can't. So now you must help me end this. Prove I can trust you,” he said slowly, like he explained something to a child.

Ines leaned back even more and looked between his eyes. She didn't understand but also knew she never would. Vincent let her go and doubtfully she stood up and let him do the same.

Vincent cleared his throat, fixed his hair and his clothes. It looked like he thought he could get back into his hard shell just by fixing his appearance but Ines looked at him differently now. There was something softer, more insecure behind his hard exterior. He wasn't as well polished as he tried to seem.

Vincent walked to the door and turned around and looked at her with big eyes.

“Good night.”

“Good night…” she answered while playing with her fingers in front of her. She wished he could stay, sleep close to her and maybe show more of his soft self but he had asked her to keep away and she would respect that. It was obviously important for him, even if she couldn't understand what a make out session with her would harm.

×××

The next morning Ines did everything to be ready to meet Vincent again. He had visited her dreams that night, with naked skin, soft kisses and an open heart. It felt like her own heart was trying to escape when she woke up with a sweaty neck and another moisture between her legs. She wanted him so badly and she needed to find out why he couldn't just let her come close.

She did her make up to perfection, in that natural, modest way he seemed to like and then looked through the clothes he had got her. She had a tight pencil skirt and a lavender colored silky blouse. It would do, even if it would have been a better outfit with heels. She left her feet bare just like he always did and tippy toed out from her bedroom. The big window in the room connecting all of the suite’s rooms welcomed her out with bright sunlight and she felt it gave her power to try to come close to Vincent, talk to him in a real, intimate way. She looked around in the suite but realized quickly that it was empty. He wasn't there. Ines looked in through the doorframe to his bedroom where the bed already was made and none of his things were on show. She thought for a second that he maybe had left her but knew he wouldn't. She knew him that well now, he wouldn't just leave.

She accepted that he once again had left and ordered up some breakfast. She didn't have a problem activating herself either and planned to go to the library and flirt with European tourists in hotel bars. Just because she wanted The Marquis she could still entertain herself. By lunch she left the suite to take the elevator down. She could see the other guard standing outside of the room they had the painting in, otherwise the corridor was empty.

“Excuse me, do you know where Vin… The Marquis is?” She asked him out of curiosity. He looked at her with a weird look before answering.

“Juste derrière toi.”

Ines looked at him confused but also a bit annoyed, if he could understand her, he must be able to speak English?

“Right behind you, he said.”

It was Vincent's voice, just behind her and that made her jump. As a reflex she turned around and hit his chest.

“Don't scare me like that!”

Vincent looked between her face and the spot she had hit with furrowed brows.

“Sorry, just a reflex,” she said, embarrassed and looked at him with blushing cheeks. She looked at him up and down where he stood in his camel colored three piece suit and perfect hair. He was so beautiful and the burgundy colored shirt made his green eyes pop. Vincent nodded a little and turned to the door to the suite. Ines didn't react to him being alone because she just admired his looks. The full lips, high cheekbones, his jaw… But what was that? Something red was smeared on his jawline and her heart stopped because it looked like the perfect shade of red lipstick but it wasn't lipstick. It was blood.

“Is that blood?” She walked closer to see better and Vincent gave her a wide eyed look. He looked stressed for a moment before he looked away.

“Where?” He dragged his hand over his neck.

“Here, let me,” she said and wet her thumb with her tongue before trying to rub the spot away.

“It's from a close shave, right?” She said with a smile and looked deep in his eyes. Vincent looked back at her, letting her wipe away the blood with her saliva. They look deeply in each other's eyes, much deeper than they had before. Something happened right then and there between them none of them had expected. Ines understood it wasn't his blood, Vincent's could see she didn't care whose blood it was. He nodded as an answer to her question even if the answer didn't matter.

Ines sucked her thumb clean while Vincent looked at her with big eyes. He cleared his throat awkwardly before taking her hand in his and opening the door to the suite.

“I met a person interested in your painting…” he said softly while leading her in through the door. Ines felt her pulse go up from his warm hand but also the memory of him watching her suck her thumb. She knew he was up to no good but she didn't care. He was a bad man, just like Faith had said but she had never cared about that.

×

[chic-a-gigot]

Le Petit écho de la mode, no. 35, vol. 16, 2 septembre 1894, Paris. 1. Toilette de cérémonie. Ville de Paris / Bibliothèque Forney

Toilette de cérémonie en satin Liberty bleu paon et point d’Alençon. — Jupe rasant terre ayant de l’ampleur derrière pour former des plis tuyaux d'orgue. Cette jupe est maintenue par une mousseline ordinaire posée entre la doublure et l’étoffe et coupée de même façon que la jupe, corsage tout uni, agrafé sur le côté sous un coquillé de dentelle, retenu par des choux de tulle. Manche globe, serrée au-dessus du coude par un bracelet de velours, lien de velours retenant la manche terminé par un chou, jockey de dentelle retombant sur la manche. Ceinture de ruban terminée par un nœud oreille et deux pans, col drapé avec coques ailes de papillon de chaque côte, gants blancs. Chapeau de velours noir orné plumes noires.

Ceremonial dress in peacock blue Liberty satin and Alençon stitch. — Skirt skimming the ground with fullness behind to form organ pipe pleats. This skirt is held by an ordinary muslin placed between the lining and the fabric and cut in the same way as the skirt, plain bodice, stapled on the side under a shell of lace, held by tulle sprouts. Globe sleeve, tightened above the elbow by a velvet bracelet, velvet tie holding the sleeve ending in a cabbage, lace jockey falling on the sleeve. Ribbon belt finished with an ear knot and two sides, draped collar with butterfly wings shells on each side, white gloves. Black velvet hat adorned with black feathers.

Matériaux: 14 mètres de soie, 8 mètres de ruban, 5 mètres de dentelle, 1 mètre de tulle de soie.

[notsafe4worms]

Tumblr Sexyworm Tournament

Round 1

Ribbon Worm VS Bloodworm

Earthworm VS Fireworm

Feather Duster Worm VS Pompeii Worm

Christmas Tree Worm VS Peacock Worm

Taglist: @fujillamaparadise

[solardrink]

Outsold as per usual 💯

KAEYA SKIN LEAK

OMGGGG A BRAID ARE YOU SERIOUS !!???!!!!!

[beezonia]

Also bit of an updated Nath design! Along with her customised champion ribbon

Like I said the 4 feathers that hold her little feather skirt are connected to her keystone for her absol

I GAVE HER A BIT OF A CAPE!! I feel like she’d vibe with that!

I added a bit more jewellery, like the broach and the little pearls hanging off her headpiece

Her Champion ribbon is simple a small diamond shape with a sapphire in the middle with two faux peacock feathers and a small bit of tartan fabric!

It’s there to represent Nathalie and her style!