#these two fancy peacocks

[powderedshards]

@outofthiisworld asked- ❛  what do people around here do to have some fun ?  ❜ —💜Ophelia to Peacock Pearl! first meeting sentence starters (accepting)

"Fun?", the Pearl's voice wobbles as she says the word, sounding like she's spitting out an awful tasting food. She bites back the urge to wince at how sharply her voice had raised. Hopefully no one heard or paid attention to that. At least, she's hoping so as her eyes flit over to a cream colored Pearl stationed next to her.

Her brows furrow and she readjusts her posture, letting out a snort of derision, allowing her own eyes to slide shut. A modicum of peace she'd take ever since she'd been busy dealing with her Jade and this... purple pest that had been bothering her all day. "If you really have to know-" Peacock keeps her voice low, speaking through gritted teeth. "We don't do anything. We're supposed to stay here while the ball is going on."

Ophelia's behavior from earlier remains clear in her mind and she feels the need to, no, has to add, "So unless you want to make a spectacle of yourself by charging out there and interrupting it like a clod, stay here."

[cozymoko]

I really loved your yandere cowboy OC idea (Jamie) and is it possible to ask for a part 2 or something? You have me hooked👀

My Fancy Lady

Yes, anon!

Nav. Masterlist

𐚁 Pairing. Yandere! Cowboy x City Girl! Reader

𐚁 Warning(s). slight yandere themes, subtle jealousy from reader, overall just lovey-dovey though.

𐚁 Format, word count. Scenario, 2.2k words

𐚁 Synopsis. You're returning to your home back in the city, but you wouldn't dare go without your precious cowboy.

REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED!

Jamie wasn't one for small talk—'less it was his woman doin' the talkin'. So, nights like this? Big ol’ fancy affairs? They weren’t his scene. He’d rather be anywhere else, maybe takin' on some honest work in town or catchin' a rodeo a few miles out. Hell, anything that didn’t have him stuffed into this stiff suit, collar chokin' him half to death.

But, reckon he had it comin’. You get yourself tangled up with a city girl, and suddenly you're wearin’ city clothes, trailed by folks who don’t know a lick about good, hard work. He couldn't help but stay close, though. With a pretty thing like you on his arm, he had to be. Men were wolves in these parts, sneakin' glances like they’d never seen a woman before—especially one who wasn’t theirs to look at. Made him chuckle under his breath. "What a damn shame."

Jamie stood across the ballroom, leaned up against the wall, one foot crossed over the other. He could’ve gone and greeted your folks, but Lord, your mama was a spitfire—firing off questions quicker than he could answer. He respected her, sure, and your pa too, but he’d rather keep what was left of his sanity. Just takin' in the sight of this place made his pockets ache.

Chandeliers dangled high above like crystal-studded stars, throwing soft light around the room. Gilded columns lined the walls, polished up so fine they seemed to look down on everybody else here. Tapestries hung alongside big, expensive-lookin' paintings—probably worth more than his whole ranch. The floor? It was slick as a lake after rain, shiny enough he’d bet a nickel it could trip even the steadiest cowboy.

Then there were the folks. Struttin’ around like proud peacocks, laughin' in polished tones that came off a little too uppity for his taste. Colors swirled around him—reds as bold as a fight, blues like icy temptation—colors he'd never even seen before danced across the floor. Reminded him a little of berries and fresh tomatoes, and just the thought got a chuckle outta him.

He’d never fit into this world, but it didn’t stop him from admirin’ its quirks now and then. Even so, this whole scene was like a country mile from his real life. He was just as sure he’d turn you into a cowgirl one day, but until then, he could appreciate the wonders of what money could do, even if he wouldn’t spend his hard-earned cash like this.

But there was one bright spot in all this: you.

There you were, right in the center of it all, falling into familiar voices and easy laughter. This was your world, and you looked like you belonged in it, talkin' to faces from your past who sized up the man beside you with curious glances. And yet, you smiled at them all—good and bad. Weren't you just the sweetest thing.

The cowboy stands across the ballroom, leaning against the wall, one foot tucked over the other. It's not that he didn't want to greet your folks, but your mama was a spitfire — hammering the two of you with more questions than he can count. He loved her, and your pa too, but he'd rather keep the last piece of his sanity tucked in his belt.

High society folks rubbed him wrong. Spoiled sons and daughters who’d had everything handed to 'em, struttin' through life without a lick of sense about hard work. Obnoxious, entitled, without a care for anyone who hadn’t grown up just like them. Jamie couldn’t stand it.

Yet somehow, out of all the men you coulda chosen, you picked him. What a thief, he thought with a quiet chuckle, his dark gaze never leavin' your face.

Course, he wasn’t all that innocent either—he’d done his damnedest to pull you away from this pampered life, wanted to whisk you off to the country, to his life, his world. And he’d caught you, good and proper. But that didn’t stop him from feelin' that familiar heat, the sharp taste of blood on his tongue from biting back the urge to snap at every wolf eyein' you tonight.

“Don't make a scene,” he murmured to himself like a man clingin' to a thin thread of patience.

He’d be lyin’ if he said he didn’t want you all to himself. Seein' you wrapped up in those fine silks, hair swept back in that way you liked best, lips painted in a soft color that made you glow... God, he wanted you. If he had it his way, you’d be in worn-out jeans, maybe one of his old flannels, smellin' of him and the wide open fields.

But he couldn’t tell you no. You hadn’t seen your family in months, and it just about broke his heart to see you so homesick. Jamie ain't one to go on about his old man, but if he learned one thing, it was this: happy wife, happy life. And you may not be his wife just yet, but he planned on changin' that real soon.

So to hell with all these other women, these high-class dames flittin' around the room. He didn’t care one bit about their money or their flirtin' glances. Jamie toyed with the silver pendant around his neck, tappin' his boot in time to the music.

Just then, a young woman drifted up, not much older than you, lips red as blood and curving into a sly smile. “Excuse me, sir,” she purred, “would you like to—”

“I’d be careful, sugar,” he cut in smooth, twirlin' his whiskey glass. “My wife fights. And I'd rather not see you back at your surgeon’s tonight.”

A crooked grin played on his lips as he raised his glass to his lips, his eyes catchin' yours across the room. There was only one woman he wanted on his arm, and she was wearin' a ring that matched his own.

You never thought you'd see him in a suit before your wedding, but it was quite the surprise — a pleasant one, at that.

Standing there in front of you, Jamie looked like he’d stepped right out of a magazine. Broad-shouldered, lean muscle wrapped in a midnight suit that clings just right, standing out among the tailored suits and smooth accents. The crisp white dress shirt only made his deep auburn hair look richer, slicked back smooth with every curl in place, and those dimples peeked out just as he caught you staring. His boots clack as he shifts, whiskey swirling in his hand, that silver band on his ring finger catching the glint of the chandelier. The sight of it alone sends any would-be admirer scuttling off with barely a second glance. He’s your plus one for the night, and the whole room knows it.

When he smiles, there’s a glint of trouble in his eyes, and those dimples—well, they could make even the stiffest folks around here swoon. He looks like the kind of man who just barely tolerates a tie, tugging at it with a smirk whenever he catches your gaze, as if to say, “You really think all this makes me any fancier?”

He’s still Jamie through and through: rugged under all that polish, with a bit of a roguish streak he could never quite hide. And tonight, even though he’s dressed up to meet your family and stand in this world of chandeliers and silk dresses, he’s every bit the man you fell for—charmingly untamed, with a quiet confidence that makes you weak in the knees.

Your friends try to pull you into old stories and polite gossip, but your eyes keep drifting back to him. Jamie’s gaze is steady, unwavering, as though he has little interest in the things around him. There’s a hint of a smirk playing at his lips every time he catches you staring, his dimples deepening, and that mischievous glint in his dark, loving eyes. You know that look too well. It’s possessive, fiercely protective, as if he’s daring anyone to even think about taking his bride-to-be.

The more you look at him, the more it pains you to look away. You try to play it cool, but he knows you too well—knew what to say, when to say it, and how to say it. It leaves you with thoughts from earlier in the day, making your knees weak all over again.

“My, my, he cleans up rather nicely,” a warm, familiar voice whistles beside you. “Don’t you agree, dear?” You jump, blinking back into the present, only to find your mother smiling knowingly.

“Distracted?” she teases, twirling you around to face her, an amused smile etched onto her red lips.

She glides past the group of dazzling damsels, fanning herself as she casts an appreciative glance toward Jamie. “Lord, honey,” she whispers in your ear, amused. “If he’s not about the most handsome thing I’ve ever seen—and the way he looks at you? It’s like he’s afraid the floor might steal you away.”

You laugh, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks, but her words are truer than she knows. Jamie tips his glass toward you from across the room, raising it in a silent toast. There’s something soft in his expression—a flicker of mirth in his dark eyes.

You almost let them drown you, submerge you in their warmth. If not for the grating sound to your left.

"Who might that be?"

"I haven't seen him around."

"Should I ask him for a dance?"

"Do you think he's spoken for?"

"Of course, look at the jewel on his finger!"

"I quite fancy him. Shall I pursue him anyways?"

"Oh, how shameful~!"

Some of the girls here are looking his way—of course, they are. Jamie has that rugged charm, like he was carved out of southern dirt and bathed in the evening sun, with the wild confidence of a man who knows he’s got nothing to prove. His auburn hair, slicked back in a style that both respects the occasion and still says he’s a cowboy first, gives him a sharp, roguish look that’s almost out of place here, like a tiger in a cage.

But despite the glances, the obnoxious remarks, no one dares approach him. The way his eyes follow you, even from a distance, says more than words ever could. He isn’t here to be seen; he’s here for you.

Yet, it doesn’t make it any easier to hold your tongue. You’ve hosted these parties since the age of fourteen and know how people behave here—their promiscuous ways, and the men who can’t help but leer. High-class harlots looking for any man to pounce on, taken or not. Greasy men following women’s every move, provoked or not. You remember too well. This was the yearly matchmaking party hosted by four of the wealthiest families in the city, your family being one of them. It wouldn’t look good if you didn’t attend the event your household had built its reputation around.

You knew Jamie would settle on keeping to himself, yet you hadn’t thought your rugged companion would be the talk of the party. That alone makes the joy blossoming in your chest wilt. For once, it feels as though he isn’t just your fiancé, but everyone’s. Of course, you want everyone to love him as much as you do—but without undressing him with their winged eyes.

Just then, Jamie makes his way over, his familiar smirk making your heart skip a beat. “Sugar,” he says, poking the soft flesh of your cheek, his eyes gleaming with a familiar, mischievous warmth. When he finally makes his way back to you, he tips his drink up, raising a brow. “Sugarplum.”

His words go in one ear and out the other, turning fuzzy and static as they pass through your mind. A deep frown settles at the corners of your lips as exasperation bubbles over.

“Jamie, stop it!” you huff, swatting his hands away. “You’ll ruin my makeup, you damn brute.”

“Yeah, yeah…” he murmurs, a lazy smile tugging at his lips. But he doesn’t bother moving his hand from the top of your head, his fingers gently brushing through your hair as if daring you to protest again. You turn away, cheeks flushed, doing your best to regain the poise you usually wear like a crown.

Jamie notices the pout you're trying to hide, his lips curling in amusement. For all your princess-like composure, you’re showing more than you realize tonight. He leans down, his voice low and teasing.

“Don’t pout, pumpkin. Fix your face.”

You glare up at him, crossing your arms, but he just chuckles, reaching for your hand. Before you can react, he pulls you closer, his grip firm yet careful, as if he were holding something precious.

“Remember, Sugar,” he murmurs, giving your kiss a long, playful smooch. MUAH! “You’re the main character.”

With a playful glint in his eye, he twirls you around, his hand never leaving yours as he guides you in a slow, elegant spin. You can’t help but let out a surprised laugh, your frown dissolving as he twirls you like with practiced ease.

Only then had you decided.

That night was quite the surprise indeed—

A pleasant one at that.

©CozyMoko, all rights reserved. Don't repost my work on other platforms.

[hellhunde]

This was an illustration requested on my patreon for $5! This was the illustration for November!

Zoetic Kite on Patreon requested "The King becomes a prisoner instead of Lain AU". Wasn't really something I had ever considered and It was fun to think about!

a frankly absurd amount of rambling about the AU from Patreon below the cut

What I initially thought about in regards to this AU would also be a like. "Lain died instead of the King" situation. Maybe he made it to the fight between The King and Condor in time and took the blow instead of him. The King being so shocked by the event that the Flock overpowered him and took him as prisoner.

Now, I do think The King gets his claws fucked up like Lain, but after that I think it diverts pretty heavily. The Flock would say that The King had given up his crown and given it to Mariner after the war, signalling and end to the conflict and peace between everyone. The King would not object to this, instead, I think even playing along with it.

The biggest difference between Lain and The King is that, The King is a manipulator. Lain is withdrawn, cold, deeply loyal, and stubborn. While The King is charismatic, strong, can feign kindness, and strategic. The King knows how to play the game of politics that Crane is creating, and he knows that he can win if he plays his cards right. Lain is used to just being told what to do, and being punished if he doesn't. I honestly think the King would even take on a flock name as a sign of good faith in his intentions (In my heart he would be called Peacock. A fanciful bird for a fanciful trophy gesture).

The King's relationship with Mariner would also be different. Like I said, the King is charismatic. While Mariner is angry at The King for the war that lead to Canary's death, he's honestly not as mad at the King as he is at Lain in canon (A lot of his feelings are about Lain Specifically being the one that killed her). The King would be able to manipulate Mariner easily, I honestly think he would just cast him and Lain as lovers also torn apart by this war (Just like Canary and Mariner) to relate to Mariner more and to gain his trust (that he would eventually betray)

The truth about his abuse of Lain would just... never come to light, sadly. The King doesn't WANT to feel like a bad person, and honestly, with Lain gone, he doesn't have to anymore. He's definitely not going to offer up the information willingly, and if he was genuinely asked he would just go along with the Locker Room Rumors that were spread among his army about the two of them.

can't go into farther AU thoughts without spoiling act 1 stuff SO I will end the ramble there <3 <3

SO sadly, I think this AU would just end up as a "The King Wins" AU but just with more steps and a much worse outcome for Lain. The King can just play the game much better than Lain can in canon </3 Not a good time for anyone involved.

[froggybogwitch]

Well then. Buckle up, folks, I went down a design rabbit hole. Somewhat inspired by the eternal question of "How do illyrian's wear shirts?" Which, honestly, has a much easier answer that what I came up with. Like a couple extra buttons would have done the trick, but where's the fun in that? I decided to add some flair on it, and by that, i mean a good chunk of a cultural fashion system. Everybody say thank you to Cassian for modelling.

So, starting off with the base layers and underwear, we've got a loincloth and a contraption that I've been calling the under harness, which was my answer to their funky double shoulders. Most other things I could think of ran into the problem that wind is a little thieving bastard and bc of the shape of their wings, form fitting garments like flying leathers can't easily pass under them, so they needed additional attachment points, hence the harness. Basically every single upper body garment I've created connects to this harness, keeping everything completely secure during flight. The only other thing to really note here are the two piercings around the wing's main knuckle. This shouldn't actually impede flying, according to the damage that real bats can fly with. These are both achor points for light weight armor, and also decoration. In the next image, we got the basic fabric base layer. Not much to say about the pants, they're pants. The shirt is more interesting. So it comes in two pieces, the front and back are entirely seperate pieces of fabric, both suspended from the under harness. The edges of the front piece are stiffened with steel boning or hardened leather, to help the garment keep it's form fitted shape. The back piece is a long strip of red fabric which I imagined to hold some sort of meaning as a highly stylized "bloodline." They could have been highly embroided with sigils, or family trees or something. Cassian's is blank for obvious reasons.

Next up, flying leathers and armor. I don't honestly have much to say about these, they're pretty well described in the books and the only thing i had to add was the armor around the knuckle claw. It seems crazy to me that these people wouldn't have figured out how to use their wings as deadly weapons so, a bit of hardened leather, some metal spikes if ur feeing extra spicy, and there, two extra striking weapons.

And now my favorite part, warmer clothes. I think this is where we'd really get to see illyrian fibercraft shine. Ombre dying, tassles, lace netting, embroidery, all of that. This is where they get to peacock about and be all bright and colourful. The cloak is made up of five long sections of fabric, two fall down the chest, two behind the shoulders but in front of the wings, and on wide one down the back. It can be worn loose or with the front most pieces of fabring tied underneath the wings for extra security during flight.

The mantle is the last bit I've developped, and it's just as decorated and fancy as the cloak, and sometimes even more so. It's a short cloak like garment that's worn over the shoulder and has open sleeves for both arms and wings. It's often fur linned and could be quilted for exra warmth. It could be worn with or without a cloak but usually they're worn together.

anyway, I have so many thoughts about the illyrian culture, bc what Sarah gave us ... doesn't really make much sense, and also makes me feel extremely icky. I'd much rather close my eyes and imagine a world where they aren't treated as a one dimentional culture that has done nothing but make it's members lives miserable.

[venomhoundfanworks]

30 Fluff Prompts

Bunch of random fluffy prompts I've had floating around in a doc for awhile. Figured I should publish it so people can actually use them. Tried to make them gender neutral but I might have missed one or two.

If you use one of these, please tag me so I can seeee~˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(18+), MDNI, some suggestive content below the cut ��ˏ✄┈┈┈┈

How they react to asking for some clothes and you giving them clothes your ex left

How they react to you wearing their shirt/jacket/coat

You two are 'just friends' and someone mistakes the two of you for a married couple

(As they are leaving the house) How they would react to you being like ‘wait you forgot something!’, then running up and kissing them before being like ‘okay, your all set now :)’

How they would react to getting a massage from you (like an actual massage, nothing dirty here)

You both are out together and one of you gently slides your hand over the other's then whoops your both holding hands now

You get so excited about something that you kiss them on the cheek as a 'thank you' without thinking about it

Them accidentally saying 'I love you'

First time they thought about marrying you/First time they knew you were ‘the one’/When they realized they were in love

How they react to finding you asleep on a desk from exhaustion/overworking

Them coming home super late from work and finding you asleep on the couch because you tried to wait for them

Knowing that they had a rough day at work, you wake them up with breakfast in bed

Waking them up in the morning with kisses/Them waking you up in the morning with kisses

Them telling you “I want to wake up next to you every morning”

You both are FWB/really good friends with a mutual crush. One of you notices the other one looking all disheveled after an intimate moment with a third party and fixes their appearance.

You both run into eachother at a formal event and by total coincidence, your outfits match/are super coordinated. People keep seeing you two together and assume you two are dating and did it on purpose.

Them seeing you all dressed up in a fancy suit/dress and swooning (bonus points if its the first time they've seen you all dressed up)

The two of you end up slow dancing together at a ball/fancy event

You both bump into eachother at a night club. One of you learns the other doesn't dance/doesn't know how to dance, and then proceeds to drag them onto the dance floor to teach them some moves.

Your the type who doesn't laugh/smile much, and when they hear you truly laugh for the first time they think its the most gorgeous sound they have ever heard

They take you on a shopping trip because they are planning to propose and are trying to stealthily find out what kind of jewelry you like and your ring size

You accidentally find the ring they got to propose to you with so you have to pretend to be surprised when they end up popping the question. (bonus points if the person keeps chickening out of the proposal so you just get super fed up like DO IT ALREADY)

You accidentally find the ring they got to propose to you with and you go to confront them about it. They immediately drop to their knees on seeing you found the ring; guess the proposal is happening right now!

You both go on a friend date. They spend the entire time peacocking/trying their absolute best to impress you hoping they can ask you on a real date afterwards.

One of you asks the other out on a date. Unfortunately, due to miscommunication, the other person thinks its a friend date. They don't realize until midway into the evening that "oh shit this is like a DATE date."

You both have obvious feelings for eachother. Your friends are sick of you both pining and decide to set you two up on a blind date.

One of your close friends doubts the... intentions of the one trying to court you. So your friend decides to start hustling them and putting them through various 'tests' to prove they are sincere

You introduce them to your best friend. Your best friend, immediately noticing the heart eyes they are making at you, decides to start pretending to be your s/o just to mess with them.

Your pet that hates everyone actually likes them right away and you ""joke"" that it must mean your soulmates

They finally realize their feelings when they see you dating/flirting with someone else and they don't even get jealous. They just keep thinking 'I wish that were me'

[aventurineswife]

hi hellooooo ive never sent in a request to anyone before so i hope im doing this right but i rlly love ur writing and ur works so i wanted to approach u with my little idea and see ur take on it :)

how do you think aventurine and ratio would go about celebrating their anniversary with their partner? would it be through nice gifts, something more heartfelt, or maybe spending the day alone with them? rlly interested to see what you think !! again i really love your writing and would love to see your ideas :) might start requesting things regularly if i have any more ideas heheh

Surprise Anniversary! <3

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Ratio x Reader, Anniversary Celebration, Fluff, Romantic Gestures, Personalized Gifts, Sentimental Moments, Playful Love (Aventurine), Intellectual Love (Ratio), Domestic Bliss, Light Angst (Healing Undertones).

Warnings: Mild emotional vulnerability, Implied deep emotional scars (Aventurine), Mention of intellectual themes (Ratio).

A/N: Writing this after a married ratio fic, honestly fits so well 🤭

The moment Aventurine woke up, his eyes glittered with mischief as he smiled at you. "Darling," he purred, brushing a lock of hair from his face, "you didn’t think I’d forget today, did you?"

Aventurine lived for the grandiose, and your anniversary was no exception. The day began with an invitation—a card sealed with golden wax, summoning you to a private casino event he'd arranged. When you arrived, the room was aglow with golden chandeliers, and every surface sparkled with decadent decor that screamed luxury and sophistication. At the center of it all, Aventurine waited, dressed impeccably in his fancy roulette-themed attire, his peacock feather earring catching the light.

The event was filled with games tailored to your shared memories. One table featured trivia about your relationship, where every correct answer granted a custom prize he had designed just for you—tokens of love disguised as chips that he playfully wagered throughout the day.

“You always keep me on my toes, my love.” you teased as he presented you with the final gift: a heart-shaped roulette wheel, spinning with vibrant gemstones. Each gem, he explained, symbolized a significant moment in your relationship.

Finally, the two of you ended the day alone on a balcony overlooking the city. Aventurine, ever the charmer, held your hand and whispered, “Life’s a gamble, my darling, but betting on us has always been my safest wager.” The sincerity in his voice melted through his playful façade, and he kissed you under a canopy of stars.

Ratio wasn’t one for extravagant displays, but his anniversary plans were no less profound. When you woke up, you found a small, handwritten note on your bedside table:

"Meet me in the study at noon. - V."

The study, one of his favorite places, had been transformed. Bookshelves that usually housed tomes of academic knowledge now displayed mementos from your time together—ticket stubs, photographs, and little trinkets he had quietly preserved over the years. A large chalkboard stood at the center, covered in meticulously written equations. As you approached, you realized it wasn’t math—it was a timeline of your relationship, each formula symbolizing a shared moment.

Ratio stood nearby, his hair swept to one side, his alabaster sculpture absent to reveal his face fully. “I thought it was time to teach you something,” he said with a rare softness in his tone. “An equation I can’t solve alone.”

He handed you a piece of chalk and invited you to complete the final step. Together, you wrote an expression symbolizing your future—a life shared, balanced, and ever-growing. Ratio’s eyes glimmered with emotion as he said, “This is the only theorem that matters to me.”

To end the day, Ratio surprised you with a private dinner, the table surrounded by projections of your favorite constellations. As you dined, he spoke of his admiration for your support and how you inspired him to push beyond his self-imposed boundaries. “You’ve always been my muse.” he confessed, his voice steady but filled with unspoken gratitude.

As the evening came to a close, Ratio gifted you a bracelet adorned with tiny owl charms, symbolizing wisdom and protection. “So that no matter where I am,” he explained, ���a part of me is always guiding you.”

[inubaki]

Prideful Opposition

Fall from Grace

——-

@rainforestakiie’s written section. Helped me to develop fully develop the idea.

Adam felt undeniably diminutive, a mere wisp of his former self. He was far smaller than he had ever been in his Edenic days and, naturally, infinitesimally tiny compared to his celestial form. He barely grazed the shoulder of his angelic self—how utterly disheartening! His new form seemed so fragile, so vulnerable. Although he was uncertain of the full extent of his new body's powers, his present concern was more with its appearance.

His face was heart-shaped, softly feminine, with a nose that curved gracefully like a bird’s beak but lacked its sharpness. His lips were plump and tender, featuring a subtle, secretive dimple at one corner. His skin was the colour of delicate ash on fresh snow, milky-white and sprinkled with grey freckles that cascaded down his cheeks, neck, shoulders, and back. These freckles meandered down to the lush, pastel green and blue fluff that framed his thighs and extended to his dainty, delicate hooves. Though he lacked the long, arrow-like tail of Lucifer, his tail resembled a delicate spring of blue feathers, starting close to his backside and arching upward like a plume worthy of Hera.

His hips were rounded and plush, akin to the fanciful Barbies Adam had once seen the young Winners chatter about. His arms were slender and cushioned with tender flesh, his fingers long and delicate, tipped with the same blue and green hues as if bruised. His hair was a cascade of soft brown tufts, interspersed with genuine blue and green feathers that sprouted from the sides of his head, two of them curving like horns. Resting serenely between them was a sweet, sinuous snake, coiling gently and floating above his head like an ethereal halo.

Adam's cheeks were rounder than he had ever imagined, blushing with a faint pink tint. He winced, pinching his right cheek and hissing in surprise. It was far more sensitive than he remembered and disturbingly reminiscent of Lucifer! His wings were long and plush, cascading down his back and sweeping along the ground behind him. He inspected them with curiosity; they weren’t gold but a mesmerising gradient of green and blue, interwoven with hints of orange.

He wondered if he could lift them—and if they could lift him. With a determined squint and an arched back, he watched as his wings began to unfurl, nearly causing him to have a heart attack. They didn’t resemble typical wings but rather the majestic plumes of a peacock, stretching around him and fluttering softly. The eyes embedded in the feathers shimmered in gold, purple, and orange, framed by gentle greens and blues, echoing the feathers sprouting from his hair.

Adam's eyes widened in shock as he gazed at his reflection.

“What the fuck am I?” he exclaimed, his voice echoing with disbelief.

A soft gasp fluttered from behind him, drawing his attention. Adam turned slowly, his gaze squinting against the soft, shadowed light of the hotel room.

There, standing in the doorway, was Lucifer, eyes wide and mouth agape in astonishment. “You’re… beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and admiration.

Adam's heart sank.

Fuck!

He’s even shorter than fucking Lucifer?! The pint-sized King of Hell?! How did this fucking happen?!

——

@adamsapple-angst-week-2025

[r0-boat]

🪶 anon here! Can I request dating headcanons for 5 WHB Kings with gn s/o please?

Absolutely! I'm not sure if you want NSFW or not so I'm going to play it safe and keep it SFW

5 WHB Kings date headcanons

Let's see how these demons take you out on a date!

Sfw cut for length

Satan

Satan thinks anything with you alone is a date. Satan is not really a romantic person it's not something he's ever thought about before. Planning romantic dates he would need the help of his subordinates which will gladly help him plan a nice romantic date.

He's wearing a plain white dress shirt and ripped jeans. He gives you a helmet and takes you out on his motorcycle. You hold on to him as he rides out into the country of Gehenna. The two of you got into the wilderness. He knows this trail by heart as if he has been through these woods countless times until he shows you a small creek and a pond. "I found this place I come here to come down."yeah you can see that, deep scratches and some of the trees fully broken but the creek and the pond remained.

He invites you to swim your hesitant because you don't have any swimming clothes. Satan confusion "What? You don't swim naked??? Human's bathe naked. what's the difference?" Then drops the 'nothing I haven't seen' line with a shit eating grin that makes you want to smack him. the two of you, strip off your clothes and go skinny dipping, something he suggested. If you are worried about the local hell wildlife with a toothy grin, he assures you that he'll protect you.

You spend the day frolicking in the forest and playing in the water. Satan acting like a little lovable in nuisance, pretending to be the evil demon as he goes after you in the water. Grabbing you and dragging you closer to him as you squeal and bat water at him.

You pick flowers to put in his ponytail which he obediently lets you do (He's mad but he likes it, so he shuts up). Show building his demon strength. He picks up a whole tree from its roots out of the ground, puffing out his chest like a peacock. You sit down on that same tree after he placed it on the ground and the two of you talk about your lives, about humans, about devils... About angels. And that's the sound goes down he drives you back.

Mammon

Oh boy, instead of sending a text like any normal demon would he sends you a letter in case in gold. In that letter is Oh great... A date with Mammon dinner reservations on Saturday??? He sent you a package, too? Opening up the package, you see, Oh no, why is this in gold and white? How much is this? It feels like silk, and the price tag is conveniently on it. You tear off the price tag immediately, throwing it away. Mammon knows how to date He probably has been on tons of dates and he wants to show off. He wants to spoil you. He wants to give you the best night of your life so you'll always think of him on your other dates.

Mammon prefers you wear something of his on his dates He wants to deck you in his wealth give you what you deserve. He even is gracious enough to give you a ride to Tartaros And when you get there, you look absolutely stunning but not as stunning as Mammon looks in that tuxedo. You're staring directly at him, and he knows it. He gives you a confident smirk. His eyebrows raised giving you a 'like what you see?' look.

A fancy restaurant dimly lit in the VIP room reserved only for the king of Tartaros and his date tonight. A bottle of expensive alcohol is set on the table with two glasses. Candle lit even rose petals all over the table on the floor. You feel like You're with an A-list celebrity, The way Mammon is holding that glass and the menu. He looks seriously as if choosing his meal is the most important thing in his life. He tries to get you to order the more expensive options. He makes suggestions. "I've eaten here many times by myself. I've always gotten this one. It's pretty good. I think I'm going to have something different tonight."

You have to say the meal was amazing. And he watched you take every bite as satisfied smile on his face even asking you if it's good. "Good that's the food you deserve." He even ordered do you dessert to take home. (Your sure Satan will destroy that before you even get to it) despite how many times he would not keep his hands to himself tonight he is a gentleman holding open the door rolling out a chair for you even asking you politely if you would like this night to continue.

You thought that means going to his bed room nope. He takes you somewhere else He takes you to all the sights and tartarus he would want to show you All the sights he can show you tonight. He's upset that he can't show it to you all night. But he assures that there will be more dates.

Leviathan

Fucking terrible at dates. The whole scene plays out like Beauty and the Beast, where he demands you down for dinner, and you deny him. And his subordinates have to teach him how to ask you out properly. After they dress him up, make him look nice to you. Biting his tongue, he politely asks you down for dinner with him. You say yes because well he's not being an asshole and to be honest you barely have eaten since you came to Hades.

Levi is barely eating He is watching you the whole time to be honest he is very on edge. Is this what being on a date is? It's terrible His heart is filled with anxiety. When your eyes meet his he stumbled picking up his work and eating His cheeks turning pink.

He brings you out into the castle gardens, a place you have not been to yet. Because he brought you here and, to be honest, almost killed you. You probably see Hades as a hostile country. He wants to show you the beauty of his castle and his country. The two of you are alone in the garden. He doesn't want to be forceful again, something that his subordinates told him not to do to when your affection, but he can't help but feel a little jealous. You are admiring the beauty of The red roses and the hedges of his garden, but he wants that attention on him. He leaves your side for a second coming back with a flower. Levi does not know how to talk to people so it's hard he presents it to you quietly before stuttering "I saw you looking at them."

He could have sworn he saw you sneak a glance at him. His heart is pounding in his chest What kind of look did you give him??? Is it a glare?! Is it a smile?!! He has to know but he just can't bring himself to open his mouth as you walk down the courtyard together deeper into the garden, He keeps thinking back to how you didn't flinch away at his touch when he put the flower in your hair.

Something catches your eye: the vegetables? Your eyes light up with curiosity. Oh, look, he had never seen it before. So make sure to burn it in his mind. "Oh yes, I grow my own things here for the chefs to prepare. I'm quite picky with food. I'd rather grow my own things than worry about what the hell is imported in Hades." some vegetables you don't even recognize. He tells you about each one and what they taste like. "If you're still hungry, I can ask the chef to prepare you some-"You cut off his words when you pop a berry into his mouth. He grumbles but chews. As a bit of payback, he picks up a weird fruit and starts itching closer to you. The servants stare at you wide-eyed when you come back into the building covered in soil, their imaginations running wild.

Beelzebub

Beelzebubs style of dating is not only more casual but spontaneous. He'll just decide that "hey let's go out tonight, let's go on a date right now!" And his dating spots are more about having fun. If it isn't clubs or bars it's amusement parks or other places to have fun. You never know what you're going to get sometimes you'll start bar or club hopping, or it will be an attraction that he has been bothering you about for days.

He wants you to have fun. He wants you to let loose if he sees you hesitating only for a second film massage your shoulders. "Come on, have some fun... Abyssos is the funniest place in hell. Let's lose a little bit."He's only having fun when you're having fun. So, of course, he takes you to the best amusement park in all of Hell. Usually, the park is complete, and tickets are always sold out. "Don't worry, you're a pretty little head princess. Luckily for you, your date is the King."skipping all of the lines just because of special privilege didn't feel right to you, so you got to go in for free and do any games for free, but you agreed to still go through the lines.

You will feel like a child again for all the rights they have some of them are a little intense meant for demons of course. But there are still plenty of games and rides that are made for humans. And of course you do get to go on all of them for free so of course you're going to go on every single one of them. You practically drag each other around the park smiles big and eyes wide with wonder. Beelzebub started becoming interest in the food stalls more than the rides. He's always carrying some kind of food thing in his hand. Then he insists to go on a roller coaster. "What don't look at me like that I'm a devil a petty little roller coaster isn't going to affect me..."Cut to The glorious king of Abyssos in all his glory puking of what he just ate because the roller coaster upset his stomach.

Unlike the carnivals in the human world the games are not rigged. Devils just want to have fun according to Beel (it's just slightly gambling So you beg to differ), keep puffs out his chest and pride as he wins you a toy. You are very skeptical because Beels king status, but you take it anyway. The rush of winning hits him and suddenly you now have 20 stuffed animals and toys that you're hauling around. Good thing he has people to help him carry it :).

How the hell can this man still be eating after having his guts destroyed on that roller coaster here? He was munching away at what you think is a pretzel. Hell, food is weird??? After spending all day at the carnival, He's still hungry, asking you if You would like dinner. Usually, he would go to a club by now, but he knows that you are not a devil and you are not him, and after a day of excitement, that is enough for you.

Lucifer

He knows humans from a scientific standpoint, but he still cannot grasp human emotion. It's something that he pretends to understand, but he knows better. He has no idea how humans Court, so many things he does are a little outdated—showing up dressed nicely with some flowers and some gifts. He figured a nice walk in the park or be okay..."okay, I think I'm a little overdressed for this, I admit." He sighs. You seem to like it though so he does not care. His breath hitches when you rap an arm around his. He didn't know why he forgot that couples normally hold hands like this so he shouldn't be reacting this way.

Lucifer is silent the entire date He does not know what to say so he doesn't say anything. Really would be up to you to get him to speak ask questions and such. "Hm? Yes you can ask me anything, my dear I will not mind no matter the question, within reason of course."He is reserved He doesn't want to do anything unless you ask for it. Even though you want him to take initiative. You want him to kiss you.

You are not the only ones one dragon and one tiny little devil followed you. Peering at the two of you from the bushes. They were very excited that there King was going on a date This was a very special occasion and they want to know how it's going.

You find a place to sit, underneath a tree where the petals fall fluttering to the ground. A lot of your conversations seem to more about your health and how you've been doing and hell. You reassure him and he smiles putting an arm around you, he pulls you closer. The first time he had showed affection today, and you are loving it, nuzzling into his chest. The two of you taking the beauty around you hearing the wind looking at the cloudy sky. And enjoying each other's company. Until a cold raindrop hit you. Lucifer noticed What you thought was his cane was actually an umbrella as he opens it up. "Let's walk back home I do not want you to catch a cold."

He puts mostly you under the umbrella his shoulder dripping with water. You scoot closer to him and he invites you happily. The umbrella was something Gamigin pastored him to take with him. Nothing much happened but that's okay. Next time he proposes that you picnic when the weather is nicer. You like that idea.

[papasbaseball]

The Wizard x Reader (Wonderful Wonderful Girl) | Chapter 3

Pairing: Wizard x F!Reader

Rating: Teen (Rating to Increase)

Warnings: Power Imbalance, Boss/Employee Relationship

Summary: Being a maid in the Royal Palace of Oz is not half so bad. Despite the meager wages, everything else is provided for you for an honest day's work. It can be unnerving working for the most powerful man in Oz, but you are able to avoid him most of the time. This changes during Lurlinemas, your paths soon becoming inextricably intertwined.

Word Count: 2,306 of 7,390

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AO3 Link

Being dealt with consists of yanking me from my bed, having my nightstand ransacked, and being plucked like a chicken down at the most expensive salon in Oz. After thorough torment and torture via wax strips, I get tossed into a room that I have never seen before but was on the same level as the Wizard's apartments. The better to keep an eye on me, I think.

The room is small but fit for perhaps a noblewoman staying a night or two at the palace: plenty fanciful with sage-papered walls but bare enough to discourage overstaying one's welcome. It consists of a small fireplace, a grand wardrobe that almost reaches the ceiling, a brass bed that is twice the width of my old one, and a vanity with a little note on top. I ignore the note, heading for the wardrobe. It's well past noon, and I'm sure there are still chores to be done. As much fun as this little excursion has been, I would like to eat dinner tonight.

The wardrobe pours out a scent of fresh citrus and I have to turn my head as my eyes and lips pucker. As the burst of cleanliness subsides, I go through the wardrobe. There is an embroidered green floor-length dress, some clothes that are suited for summers that are too hot, and some risque lingerie that makes me slam the doors closed with a wooden clatter. This room was meant for a noble lady, but I didn't think that they would have stuck me into one that was already occupied. Obviously, there has been a mistake.

When they had stuffed me in here, they hadn't given me any instructions and refused to answer any of my questions. The only answer I was able to get out of them was “I am not able to share that with you”. I open the door to see if I can find some help and am met with two palace guards who bark some threats that cause me to stumble back into the room. I shut the door again. There's a thick metallic slotting, and when I go to try the handle, it doesn't budge, instead rattling in futility.

My lip curls and I bear my teeth. I have to fight the urge to slam my balled-up fists on the door and scream obscenities, but I know they'd probably just come in and hit me over the head with the end of one of their swords or do something worse to get me to shut up. The Royal Palace guards were not exactly known for their kindness and compassion. I add “intelligence” to their not-list for refusing to even listen to the fact that I am occupying someone else's room.

Making a closer assessment of the space, I look for any potential doors that might have been missed. There is a bathroom door with a peacock carved into it, but nothing else of note. The only other exit is a window. I approach the paned glass, flipping the latch, and am met with a dizzying drop. From up here, the stretched-out cotton balls that make up the clouds wrap around the jeweled spirals of the royal palace like heavenly moss.

"It's a long way down."

I yelp, my palms slipping from the window sill. The fear cuts up through me with the air as I fall, standing all of my hairs straight up. I'm jerked back and I tumble to the floor, scrambling back to the wardrobe as I try to catch my breath. The Wizard is there, standing in front of the window with a barely concealed smile on his face and a glint of amusement in his eyes. I want to scream as anger rips through me. It's not right to feel that way towards our Wonderful ruler, but I can't see what he finds funny about the fact that I almost just died. All I'm able to get out is a strangled cry that sounds nowhere near close to "thank you".

"Were you trying to get some fresh air?" he says, offering me a hand.

I try to still my face as I put my trembling hand in his. "I'm... I'm in the wrong room," I say.

"You were almost on the ground," he says, pulling me to my feet. I find myself way too close to him, too aware of the way the cotton of his shirt is rising and falling with each breath. My brush with death is causing me to lose my head because – even though I know he is all-powerful and a blessing to us all – I feel like the person standing before me is a normal man with a beating heart just like the rest of us lowly citizens of Oz.

I clear my throat, trying to get my voice back to normal. "I was trying to find a way out."

The Wizard laughs at this, deeply and heartily. Despite my trembling, I can't help but let out my own breathy laugh too. It was rather silly to think about escaping out of a window that was closer to the sun than the ground. My hands and arms are slowly getting some of their warmth back in them, only moments ago having felt so numb. I can't help but feel thankful that I can share this laugh with him, and that I am still alive.

Whether from the adrenaline or all of the laughing, my stomach grumbles, reminding me of the pressing issue that is earning my dinner. I'm breathless, but I tell him that I'm in the wrong room, again.

"What?" he says. "Is there something wrong with your room? I had it redecorated." He goes to the wardrobe, smoothing a hand over the glossy oak finish of the doors. "Used to be all cobwebs and dust in here." He swipes at the air as if to bring down one of these supposed cobwebs.

"Your Wonderfulness," I start, "There are some lady's clothes in here. I am sorry to say that I went through them, but I-"

"Did you think that you would find something good to steal?" he says.

My cheeks heat red at the reminder of yesterday. I throw open the wardrobe doors to show him the clothes that someone had obviously left here during their last summer. "See for yourself," I huff.

Those amber eyes lock onto mine, a warning about my tone, but they quickly land on the dresses as he swipes the hangers along the rod. "I don't see anything out of place."

"These are not my clothes," I protest. "How am I supposed to go about cleaning?"

His "Ah" is almost inaudible as he fishes all the way back into the wardrobe and pulls out the sea-green gossamer dress. It looks ridiculous, with great puffs of tulle across the breast and shoulders, the skirt clearly meant for summertime the way I can see through it. I snatch it from him and shove it back into the closet.

"That is someone else's!" I say, feeling guilty that we are still going through the poor woman's clothes.

"No," he says, "that is the price for stealing."

I scrunch my brow together, utterly confused. I did not steal any of the garments. I even showed them to him! They were all here, 100 percent accounted for, and they could be shipped back home to whatever unfortunate countess had left them here and was probably not missing them. And what did I care what they cost?

The recognition on my face as the wheels turn in my head turns his benevolent features into a hellish delight, a grin that seems too sharp, the way he stands a little too comfortably. He takes the dress back out and puts the hanger into my hand. "I almost thought I was going to have to beat some sense into you," he says.

There is a knock at the door. I shove the see-through dress back into the closet just in time for the guards to open the door. It’s Emily on the other side of the threshold.

"Ah, yes!" he says. "Come, come in!" He pushes past me to usher in the unsure girl. I can see that there are charcoal stains on her apron from today's work, her palms ruddy and cracked with a dried trickle of blood creeping up her wrist. My stomach twists in a knot, wondering if I might be able to take the window exit after all. Here I was complaining about everything, but hadn't I been excused from the hard work of washing the floor and changing sheets? Hadn't I been getting primped and preened like a fanciful cockatoo in the finest salon in Oz? Emily seems to have the same idea, her mouth set in a hard line that tells me she is not happy about having to pick up my slack.

"I got you your little friend to help out," he beams, pushing her forward. "Not with your work, of course, but for dressing." He goes back to the closet and pulls out the offensive dress for what seems like the billionth time today. When he's not looking, I think, I'm going to burn it. He hands the wisp of a garment to Emily.

"Our friend here is confused," he tells Emily, "she had a little run-in with the window. Just make sure that she gets dressed. When you're done, set some wood on the hearth for a fire for later."

Emily's face scrunched up at the last part, "Your Wonderfulness, I'm afraid I can’t do that. Receiving has put a limit on firewood for the whole palace. They said something about a shortage? I'm not sure."

His eyes narrow and he knits his brow. He says, "Just get her dressed and bring her to my room when you're done." He leaves the room, checking his pocket watch as he steps out the door.

When the door shuts, any politeness Emily might have had leaves her features. She tosses the dress onto the bed, looking for a zipper. "So how'd you do it?" she bites.

"What?" I ask.

"Did you sleep with him?"

The suggestion knocks the wind out of me and I can't help but scoff for breath.

"Is he any good in bed?" she asks.

"That is our Wizard you are talking about!" I protest in a whisper, afraid that he will hear us if I speak any louder. "I did not sleep with him. I was at the market with you and then-" I stop myself, not wanting to admit that I got arrested for stealing. That would surely go over well with her that somehow I got all of this for trying to shoplift. "and then I ended up here, okay? I don't know."

Emily finds the zipper and slides it down, taking the dress off the hanger. She comes over to me and sneers. "Come on, off with it. Or are you too lazy to undress yourself too?"

I hesitate, but the need to prove that I'm not some layabout wins over any shame I might have at her seeing me naked; we had shared a bed after all and she had seen me dress in the common room before. I pull off the simple but warm shift they had given me at the salon, and she slips the dress over my head. I have to stop myself from running my hands over the airy ruffles and puffs that cover my chest and shoulders. The fabric was softer than any of the sheets I'd ever put on the Wizard's bed, and so light that I wondered if it was woven from the room’s old cobwebs.

"I saw you getting hauled off yesterday. When I came back you were in bed. What happened?" Emily asks again.

"I can't say," I lie. "They told me it was a secret." No, that's not true either. But I can hear his wails so far removed from this little and polite room. The wails of the boy that Emily had pranked and bullied and set up and framed because he was good at his job. I don't know why she did it. We all got paid the same, but if I had to guess, I'd say that she was afraid that he was going to make her look bad. "I don't want to be here," I add as an afterthought.

"Yeah, right," she says, zipping the dress up. I yelp as the zipper pinches a bit of skin on my side. If my arms weren't turning into gooseflesh from the cold, they were now.

"Well, what do you want me to do?" I almost genuinely want to know. Maybe she had some ideas that could get me out of this dress and room, and back into the comfort of my own clothes and our shared bed.

"Try throwing yourself out the window again," she says, hanging the hanger back up. "At least you won't have to worry about anything after you go splat. Try to aim for the officer's balcony. I don't want to be called to scrape up your puffy remains." She flicks a puff on my shoulder to emphasize her point.

I slam the door to the wardrobe and she locks eyes with me. She walks to the door in silence, never breaking eye contact, and quickly knocks on it. "You're not the first dummy to try and sleep her way to head maid," she says. The door opens. "Come on, let's go. I need to take you to his room." I follow after her, the gown doing nothing to protect me from the cold hallways of the palace. "Plus, that dress is offensive to the eyes. I don’t want to look at it any longer than I have to."

[arcticclimes]

I feel like it's important to point out just how fancy Fitzjames' braces are like, of course they would be but STILL are those peacock feathers??? Roses??? I can't quite tell but they're pretty.

(First two caps are unaltered, last is contrasted and sharpened.)

[nightlyrequiem]

Hello dere :3

small request b4 they close ‼️‼️ could we have some Valeria x designer reader? I think it would be tooth-rottingly sweet for Valeria to reluctantly try on everything her girlfriend makes -- from ballgowns to suits.

And designer reader fucking adores her, and constantly makes her fancy clothes, with colours perfectly, primmly picked out to match Valerias skintone, eyecolour, manicure, tattoos, and all.

Hello hello hello :3 Valeria would definitely try on whatever thing Reader has made at her request. She's this strong, brute of a woman but with you? Oh, she's just so soft. It helps that your designs are so well done too.

Also, much apologies for the wait 🫂

Designer!Reader x Valeria

Out of the two of you, you're definitely the more fashionable one. You can take one look at someone and already know what colour or style would suit them best. Valeria doesn't care all that much about matching patterns and colours and what goes best with her undertone. You do though. Valeria is your favourite person in the world and such a good model too.

You've made a few designs inspired by her. Pieces with little scorpion inspired details. Snake details. Any animal you can vaguely associate with her. You make Valeria try on every single one.

You like to make pieces based off of animals in general. Foxes, cats, moths, peacocks, swans. Those are Valeria's favourite to model for you. The peacock one in particular. There's something so special about seeing your eyes light up as you see your ideas in the flesh. Or rather, on flesh.

She acts like she doesn't like doing it, but secretly she enjoys how much you hype her up. She struts down the hallway of your shared home in elegant gowns and dresses and suits that she'd otherwise never wear. A part of her wishes she had more time or the safety to dress up but in her line of work she has to stay lowkey. The less attention the better.

I've heard bigger chested girls have a harder time finding dresses and tops that fit them properly. (I wouldn't know because I'm not even pushing a B cup. 👎) Now, it's no secret that Valeria's chest is on the bigger side. She's found quite a few tops and dresses that she loved in her size, only issue was, they didn't fit her chest right. So, you being her loving girlfriend with the ability to sew, tailors her clothes.

You tailor her pants too. Adding on extra pockets for her and secret sheathes for her weapons.

Back to designing. In your expert opinion, Valeria suits dark red and green the best. Most of the pieces you've made for her specifically heavily features those colours. Some are pink though, to pay respect to her favourite colour.

Valeria has let you dedicate an entire room to your hobby. Mannequins, shelves full of all kinds of fabrics, needles and pins, a sewing machine, an iron and ironing board. Valeria partially regrets that decision for the sheer amount of time you spend in it. Although it's great when she's too busy to be with you.

Valeria has one suit that you made her that she wears for every formal occasion. Never during a cartel meeting, because she simply doesn't respect anyone enough to dress up, but for dates or events. Dark red and tailored to perfection, severe lines to match her sharp attitude. You wish she'd wear some of the other things you've made but you can't bring yourself to complain when she looks that good. It's like she was born to wear that suit.

[evilminji]

Back at it again with the BNHA crossover Ponderings!

Nedzu is LITERALLY one of THE smartest beings on the planet, right? Like... he's probably on some internationally recognized list of Top Planetary IQs? Which is why Japan let's him get away with so much?

Cause they REALLY fucked him over, he has the power to leave, and that would be really, REALLY bad Brain Drain wise/politically for the Japanese Government? (Also pls don't become a Supervillian we literally can not afford that, Mr. Nedzu Sir? Etc etc)

You think he has... like? Chats? With the OTHER top intellects? Some kid in Siberia with the New Super Intelligence Quirk his parents can't begin to even handle, gets put in history's WEIRDEST group chat? I like to think so.

But the REASON I ask this?

What hero do you call? For Weird Shit in international waters?

Suspicious, floating, weirdly two dimensional and HIGHLY radioactive... corrosive... green goop? Rings? Orbs? CAN it be an orb if it's two dimensional? It certainly LOOKS like there is depth to it... somehow...

A THING. In the sky.

Shouldn't be there, man. This is a shipping lane. It's scaring the people on passing ships. No one knows what Quirk could have made this. Might be a trafficking victim's call for help. Might be a first Quirk Use mishap. They need to know what it IS and how to get rid of it.

They go the normal routes first. Doesn't work. Okay, call in some professionals. Kinda pricey, but no big. Right? Doesn't work. Okaaaay, call in a SPECIALIST. REAL pricey, but this thing is holding up international trade, making people in fancy ass suit all Nervous(TM).

Doesn't Work.

Specialist tells um to not to bother with calling anyone else on their normal list. Is looking at the green goo like it spat on his mother and called his dog a whore. They would prefer he NOT make that facial expression. That is a facial expression that will get them yelled at by their bosses. Fuck(TM).

Now Politics(TM) are involved. People want to STUDY the green goo. Harness it for dubious and unknown green goo experiments. Poke it with their Quirk to see what'll happen. There's fuckin REPORTER with no concept of self-preservation, trying to get CLOSER to the RADIOACTIVE POISON GOO.

Fuckin Heros have shown up.

Why are you bastards even HERE. What? Are you peacocks gonna PUNCH it? Get off their rig! Stop posing in front of the GOO!

Then? Oh thank GOD. The SMART people show up. Certified, highest grade, triple refined, PREMIUM Nerds(TM). The WAY above our pay grade folks. We're SAVED! Can we PLEASE go home now? We are just ocean cleaners! Our job is debris! Not weird GOO!

Enter, stage Super Cool Helicopters? The Elite Nerds of Earth. Of which Nedzu is one. Since Japan is closest. And it's a school weekend! He had some time.

And?

Ha ha... Thanks, he hates it! Nedzu's stoat brain is SCREAMING and he wants NOTHING to do with...? What he is somehow CERTAIN is a floating pit of Death! Interesting effect. Anyone getting that or just him?

Then? Some hot head on loan to Korea from the states? Spots something. SomeONE. And does he TELL the newly arrived professionals? So they may do a risk assessment? Figure out a way to rescue this individual SAFELY? Of course not!

Said hot head has supposedly indescribable chains! So he just flings them rights on in! Grabbing the boy from the center of the portal, pulling him free, and in the process? Immediately destabilizing it. Causing it to collapse down towards everyone bellow.

He also then proceeds to DROP the young lad, in his alarm at this entirely predictable outcome.

Right. Into. The Ocean.

A boy, who is dressed in filthy medical scrubs, haunting familiar in a way nothing should EVER be again, and entirely unconscious. Plunge down into the briny deeps and bitter cold. Alone. Abandoned. Death, thick and viscous, losing form and raining down like bile.

Everyone saving themselves.

Ah, he rather liked this suit.

The salt water ruins it. The droplets of Green, burn like molten glass each time they touch him. He will likely have at least a few new scars, after today. Assuming this is not the end of him. But he swims fast. The boy sinking slower then his size would suggest he should. He grabs hold and arcs, dragging them both from beneath the fallout of yet another humans hubris.

He does not stop swimming. Not until he knows he is near the helicopter. He is thankful, that he dragged Aizawa along. The man takes one look at his serious expression, the state of his rescued young friend, and merely hauls them both out of the water and into the machine.

Time to go.

They saw nothing, it seems. And there is nothing to be found.

The boy does not wake. Not for quite a while. Long enough, that Nedzu, perhaps unwisely, has grown attached. Is considering adoption. If only too terrorize a few goverment bodies. And... well... the boy will need some who UNDERSTANDS. And the scars paint a very specific sort of tale. But first, the most important question, when beginning these things...

"Tea? Or would you prefer coffee?"

@the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @hypewinter @hdgnj

[enbyartist]

It’s my personal headcanon that after being alive for almost 6 centuries and having to be so prepared and put together throughout all the bullshit, behind closed doors Jarlaxle is the most casual and comfortable person alive.

He’s not always so fancy and well put together. He’s TIRED. He totally lounges in clothes that are old and probably have a stain or two just because they’re so much more comfortable than his normal peacock-like outfits. When he can he takes every opportunity to quote Regis about the joys of lounging around all day.

He probably held onto a shirt that has a hole and a bloodstain just because it was Artemis Entreri that stabbed him and he misses Artemis so he held onto the shirt for memories. Let this sappy old man be a sappy old man!! Robert Anthony Salvatore please give Jarlaxle a break!!

[the20thangel]

Sweet Bliss in the Abyss

This was a request from @ithilwen-aranel

Prompt:  I need a fic where reader is a Targ princess and dragon rider and a known fierce warrior, like Visenya reincarnated level warrior but nobody knows that she has sleep paralysis. So she's marching with House Blackwood to Harrenhal and it's nighttime so they're in tents and her and Benji's tents happen to be next to each other. So that night she gets an attack/episode and he hears her muffled cries and sobs and he helps her get out of it and he finally sees the girl inside the warrior and he comforts her by showing that he has vulnerable sides too and stuff.

This is my take on the prompt, I hope you enjoy this story while I continue working on my next chapter for my series The Dragon and the Raven. @ithilwen-aranel I hope I did justice to what you imagined.

CW: Sleep Paralysis symptoms and vision.

word count: 1566

Saenaera huffed while dueling with two knights from House Tully; she was bored by this mediocre duel. These knights were supposed to help her mother reclaim her throne, but they were two boys trying to show off their fancy stances and practiced skills. In war, there is no room for such pretty and flashy shows. Knocking both men to their asses, Saenaera darkly chuckled. 

“I think that’s enough; you all are too feeble for my taste.” grunted the princess as she watched the men run away from her. 

Saenaera looked around and saw that everyone lowered their eyesight or walked away, not wanting to be the pick of the princess aire. Saenaera snorted as she walked away in disappointment; her father would not be pleased. Saenaera knew she was not what the lords expected from a princess. People always liked to compare her to Queen Visenya; both were no-nonsense, fierce warriors and had little patience for foolish men. Like her father, Prince Daemon, and grandmother, Alyssa, she preferred to be on dragon back and training with swords instead of batting her pretty little eyes and reading songs and poems. Song and Poems were not what would win the war from her stupid and fat usurper of an uncle. They had one more day left before reaching Harrenhall, and the journey was taking a toll on her. 

She knew how crucial her position was in leading these men to Harrenhall; with the risk of Vaghar in the air, they needed another strong dragon rider ready to face the giant dragon. Who better than her and her dragon Aegarax, previously known as The Cannibal? Her boy was misunderstood and needed a bond to help ease his mind back to stability. She understood him, and he understood her. 

She had her secrets that not even her mother knew about. During the night, when everyone should be sleeping peacefully, she had visions, terrifying ones that paralyzed her. They were so vivid and heinous, and all she could do was lay there. She has tried everything to eliminate these visions or at least break from them during the process, but nothing has seemed to work. The only remedy has been drinking a special tea that Maester Gerardys has given her in Dragonstone. Being away from home made her worried that the visions would start again. 

Saenaera shook her head from her thoughts, not wanting to dwell on them, when she noticed that from away from the crowd of knights in the training yards was a young man, alone, practicing. She stood there to take in the sight. What a sight, indeed! This man wasn’t like the others who liked to show off their skills like peacocks. No, he swung his sword with fierce precision. From where she stood, she could see his face; he wore a rabid grin, and his eyes swirled like a storm. Intrigued, she walked closer and clapped to make her presence known. Once her claps resounded, the young man froze before quickly turning to her, causing him to trip on his feet. Saenaera laughed; how could a man so precise earlier just go to a boy tripping over his feet? 

The young lord’s eyes widened and he quickly bowed to the princess.

“No need for that, my lord. I’m terribly sorry for breaking your focus, but I just had to express how impressive you are with the sword,” stated Saenaera as she walked closer. 

The young lord paled a little, “Thank you, my princess. It is an honor hearing that from you.” 

The princess smiled, extending her arm to him, “You are most welcome, Lord…” 

“Lord Benjicot Blackwood, from Raventree Hall, my princess. Please just call me Ben or Beni; my name is a mouthful to say.” Benji awkwardly chuckled as he clumsily kissed the princess's hand. 

Saenaera giggles, finding it surprising and endearing: “Well then, you may call me Naera, for my name is also a mouthful to say. 

As they returned to the camps, Naera asked why Benji wasn’t with the rest of the knights when she was dueling with them. Embarrassed, Benji scratched his head, stating that he preferred training on his own, not liking the numerous stares, and expressing how many of these knights preferred to flaunt their skills than train, and he had no patience for that. Naera nodded, completely agreeing with the Lord of Raventree Hall. Once they returned, the Lord and Princess noticed that their tents were neighbors as they bid each other goodnight. 

In the dead of night, the camp was silent; with the fire crackling, everyone was asleep, enjoying the lulling dreams… all except for one. Just like how she worried, Naera lay there as another vision took hold of her. This was a new vision and a grotesque one. Two monsters were slithering towards her, and she couldn't help but notice how the faces resembled Prince Aemond and the usurper Aegon. A weird and horrifying distortion of their faces with their grins running from ear to ear and long serpent-like tongues laughing as they came closer and closer to her. She tried screaming and kicking anything to wake her body up and reach for her sword, but nothing happened. She hated this feeling of helplessness as she could do nothing. As they reached her, a tongue ran up her face. She felt disgust as she tried again to wake, and it seemed that the gods took pity on her as she jumped up, finally waking to gasp and crying, trying to claw the ugly sensation out of her face. Turning wildly, looking for the two beasts, but they were gone. Naera couldn’t help but bring her legs towards her as she tried to muffle her sobs; this vision was the worst one yet. 

Unbeknownst to her, Benji was waking after hearing the commotion coming from the next tent. Benjicot was always a light sleeper, so the princess's noises quickly awakened him. As he listened, his heart dropped to his gut, thinking that she was being attacked as he quickly jumped from his bed, grabbed his sword, and ran into her tent. Once he barged in, he quickly scanned the room for the intruder, but there was no sign of anybody else, just the princess curling to a ball in her bed, silently crying. Benji dropped his sword beside the bed as he tried to check for harm to the princess. Naera, feeling hands touch her, made her gasp and try to strike the attacker before noticing it was just Benjicot. 

“Oh, I’m sorry, Ben. I did not mean to strike you.”  She quickly apologized, reaching for his scarlet cheek. 

Benji took the princess’ hand and stared into her lilac eyes. “Are you alright, my princess? Were you attacked?” 

As the princess shook her head, Benji sighed in relief before dropping her hand. But Naera, still raw from the vision, just sobbed again and reached for the young lord. Causing Benji to freeze as he felt the princess curl to his chest. He gathered her into his arms and slowly rocked, trying to bring comfort. After what seemed like an hour but was a few minutes, the princess finally stopped her tears and apologized. 

“No need, princess, I am happy to bring comfort, but what happened? Did someone try to attack you?” questioned Benji worryingly. 

Naera froze. How could she explain what she saw to somebody? They would assume she was crazy or, worse, believe that she was cursed or possessed, just as Green Queen would happily spread. Nonetheless, she felt that she owed Benji an explanation, seeing his worried face as he waited for her response. 

“No, I wasn’t…attack… it was just a horrible…nightmare,” she finally settled on what to say. “It just felt so real…” she further explained as she closed her eyes tightly. 

Benjicot wrapped his arms around the princess, trying to bring comfort. Nightmares, no matter how old you are, can always be terrible, so to have such a fearsome princess reduced to tears, the nightmare must have been truly terribly. After a beat of holding her, Benjioct loosened his hold and helped the princess lay back. Once she settled and her breathing relaxed, Benji stood, turning to return to his bed. Before he could even take a step, an arm stopped him. Turning, he saw the beautiful princess look at him with doe-like eyes, and her lips quivered. 

“Please, stay…” she whisperly pleaded to him. 

Benji's heart flipped as he looked at the sight. He nodded and moved to lay in the bed next to her, bringing her into his arms. She cuddled closer to the young lord, placing her head on his chest, sighing as she felt his arms tighten around her waist.  Benji lay with his princess, running his fingers through her silky pale waves, taking the liberty to kiss her head softly, chastely.  After a few more minutes, the princess’s breath even out, relaxing enough in the arms of the Lord of House Blackwood to fall back asleep. Having felt the princess’s breathing, Benji soon also relaxed, leaning his head on the lush pillows as he was lulled asleep with the warmness of the princess in his arms. The two, a lord and a princess, could go back soundly to the realm of dreams, taking comfort from each other as they continued the night, sleeping in each other's warm embrace.

[inubaki]

Collar (Prideful Au)

Adam felt undeniably diminutive, a mere wisp of his former self. He was far smaller than he had ever been in his Edenic days and, naturally, infinitesimally tiny compared to his celestial form. He barely grazed the shoulder of his angelic self—how utterly disheartening! His new form seemed so fragile, so vulnerable. Although he was uncertain of the full extent of his new body's powers, his present concern was more with its appearance.

His face was heart-shaped, softly feminine, with a nose that curved gracefully like a bird’s beak but lacked its sharpness. His lips were plump and tender, featuring a subtle, secretive dimple at one corner. His skin was the colour of delicate ash on fresh snow, milky-white and sprinkled with grey freckles that cascaded down his cheeks, neck, shoulders, and back. These freckles meandered down to the lush, pastel green and blue fluff that framed his thighs and extended to his dainty, delicate hooves. Though he lacked the long, arrow-like tail of Lucifer, his tail resembled a delicate spring of blue feathers, starting close to his backside and arching upward like a plume worthy of Hera.

His hips were rounded and plush, akin to the fanciful Barbies Adam had once seen the young Winners chatter about. His arms were slender and cushioned with tender flesh, his fingers long and delicate, tipped with the same blue and green hues as if bruised. His hair was a cascade of soft brown tufts, interspersed with genuine blue and green feathers that sprouted from the sides of his head, two of them curving like horns. Resting serenely between them was a sweet, sinuous snake, coiling gently and floating above his head like an ethereal halo.

Adam's cheeks were rounder than he had ever imagined, blushing with a faint pink tint. He winced, pinching his right cheek and hissing in surprise. It was far more sensitive than he remembered and disturbingly reminiscent of Lucifer! His wings were long and plush, cascading down his back and sweeping along the ground behind him. He inspected them with curiosity; they weren’t gold but a mesmerising gradient of green and blue, interwoven with hints of orange.

He wondered if he could lift them—and if they could lift him. With a determined squint and an arched back, he watched as his wings began to unfurl, nearly causing him to have a heart attack. They didn’t resemble typical wings but rather the majestic plumes of a peacock, stretching around him and fluttering softly. The eyes embedded in the feathers shimmered in gold, purple, and orange, framed by gentle greens and blues, echoing the feathers sprouting from his hair.

Adam's eyes widened in shock as he gazed at his reflection.

“What the fuck am I?” he exclaimed, his voice echoing with disbelief.

A soft gasp fluttered from behind him, drawing his attention. Adam turned slowly, his gaze squinting against the soft, shadowed light of the hotel room.

There, standing in the doorway, was Lucifer, eyes wide and mouth agape in astonishment. “You’re… beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with a mix of awe and admiration.

Adam's heart sank.

Fuck!

He’s even shorter than fucking Lucifer?! The pint-sized King of Hell?! How did this fucking happen?!

———

The concept idea was what if Adam’s sinner punishment was to look like Lucifer.

The face of everything he thought as evil and through him excused his own horrid deeds. All that he took pride in and suffered through vanity is stripped away. Leaving a shorter, more ‘ delicate’, even feminine version of himself. He retains his wings but they barely hold the strength to lift himself. His halo becomes a snake, one he later names after constantly trying to chase off. (Though being separated, gives him migraines.). Adam keeps those hips though! Cause damn boy!

-this is mainly a repost of an older post from a older account of mine. This section is written by @rainforestakiie

@cakerybakery also took this concept and evolved it to something beyond all expectation! From the Dust Anew gives me life.

Hopefully, life would settle enough for me to make something good next time.

[dawndelion-winery]

I Can See You

Warning: suggestive, use of f-word (not the slur)

They get dressed up all nicely for you the spooky season (modern au)

Ft. Alhaitham, Childe, Kaeya, Kaveh, Scaramouche

Alhaitham:

He didn't really see a point in getting in costume just for candy

But you insisted, and who was he to refuse to accompany you?

He honestly wasn't very pleased

Until he found a few costume ideas people were posting about

If his boyfriend-material turtleneck sweaters weren't form fitting enough, the skintight latex suit he was getting definitely was

He had no business dressing up as batman, flaunting his ass and abs like that

Still, he told you not to worry, as he'd cover up

And by that he meant wearing a full on suit and tie over it

Suddenly you're not so keen on leaving the house and it's Alhaitham complaining about how you're not getting ready to go trick or treating

Not that he actually minds, of course, given how the fit that night was picked out with the sole intention of convincing you to forgo the candy raid

Childe:

He's nothing if not extra

Full on SFX make up and everything

He made the side of his mouth seem torn and basically doused himself in fake blood (he assured you it was fake)

Fake burns to top off his already existing scars?? It's like he was dressing up to be the victim of some monster attack

And of course, he had to rip up his clothes to really sell the look

Ajax tearing shirts wasn't something you knew you needed to see

Seeing the fabric pull apart with a shrrrppp sound and loose seams dangling over toned muscles littered with as many scars as freckles

They're all old wounds, but the fake blood reminds you of when some of them were fresh and you were helping him tend to them

As you subconsciously reach out to caress the side of his stomach where a nasty old gash was, you felt his warm hand over yours

Right, well, Ajax always was a touchy person, so he never had any qualms about you feeling him up now and then if anything he wished you would more often

It was a soft moment until he spoke up

"Want me to rip up your clothes too? Though they might not be able to stay on then."

Kaeya:

You only ever get one of two things with this man

He dresses cute, or he dresses slutty

And you not wearing the matching peacock onesie with him meant he was dressing slutty

Hence the Seele cosplay

But without the wig, so he looks mildly cursed

Boi really out here strutting with everything on display like goddamn all this for free???

It was not, in fact, free

If you're not getting handsy on him along the way, he's keeping his hands on you because frankly, how could you not give him any attention when he's dressed all "fancy" for you?

Hi please appreciate his hips or he's going to dislocate his pelvis trying to flaunt himself in front of you /hj

Kaveh:

He's putting way too much into an outfit he's only going to use once

And you know damn well he's going to then use that as an excuse to keep using the costume

I mean, does he really need to recreate a fully functional Iron Man suit???

According to him the answer was an obvious yes

Honestly you were just a teeny but disappointed because you wanted to see his face

Which wasn't as much of a problem as you'd anticipated because it got hot in there, so he'd pop out of the suit every so often

You'd never been more appreciative of white dress shirts

More specifically the white dress shirt he chose to wear into that portable mechanical sauna he'd made himself

Yeah, maybe he really should use that suit at every opportunity

Scaramouche:

If you find him hot in his costume, you are 100% a monster fucker

Like Ajax and Kaveh, he goes all out

Except instead of aiming for visual appeal, he's going straight for trying to traumatise children

I hope you're not scared of zombies because he's painted himself grey and made faux scarred tissue all over

On top of tearing his clothes, he's burnt parts of it, and the shirt was pretty much just a few strips of cloth at this point

Oh, you thought you were going to have your boyfriend shirtless all night?

Well yeah, but somehow with what seems to be massive chunks of flesh missing and ribs poking through

His pants were, unfortunately, intact for the most part, with the hems undone and a little scorched

10/10 decaying zombie, and he makes you go as a zombie hunter equipped with a flamethrower

Taglist:@ryuryuryuyurboat @yinyinggie @mx-kamisato @chaosinanutshell @haliyamori @irethepotato @boundedbyfate @favonius-captain @aqui-soba @tiredsleep @sadlonelybagel @mastering-procrastinating @lemeowade