#infernal children au

[wizisbored]

Brain empty only wing hugs and cuddles

wing hug feat. very slapdash beetlejuice design subject to change

[lov3-lik3-ghosts]

hiii, I was wondering if you could write something with Enoch? Maybe angst to fluff? If not that’s okie!! I hope you’re well <3

Twines Of Fire Ignite Us. Lover, Our Love’s Immortal

Pairing: Enoch O’Connor x fem!reader.

Summary: Your mates heart belongs to her… right?

Warnings: Not beta nor proofread. Use of Y/n. Soulmate!au. Reader has the ability to see souls and entwine them in harmful ways, this has nothing to do with soulmates. Ankh: Ancient Egyptian symbol representing internal life (according to google); also a subtle representation of Enoch’s peculiarity. Twine of Fire: A symbol representing a subtle indication of the readers infernal rage and peculiarity.

Format: Drabble.

Word Count: 1.1k.

Note: I hope you’re well too, lovely!

| mother m-list

The ankh branding your wrist burns when he looks at her.

You’ve scratched it red raw under your scrutiny and marred it with the lashes of your jealousy over the months. Your family would have forever become victims to a social massacre if anyone ever caught glimpse of the monstrosity it had become; you count yourself lucky to be in a loop, where the day resets and things don’t matter.

Her red hair flows down her back in a river of ocherous that catches the sunlight just right and your eyes are drawn to his, watching her as though she’d made the world good again.

All of you screams he’s yours. That your souls are tied eternally. That his mark is embedded in your very skin; that yours is embedded in his.

You turn away.

Out of sight, out of mind.

••

They sit together at supper, as it’s always been. His seat is closer to hers than you’d be comfortable with but your opinion in the matter runs naught.

Your seat is opposite to his, directly facing everything they do. So much for out of sight.

Enoch’s as stoned faced as ever to her bright eyes and it’s not something that should strike envy green through you but it paints there anyway.

Olive will forever be the soothe after his burn, a soft to his unsated harshness. You will always be the gasoline to the bitter fire roaring in him. You will always be an angry soul, charged with bonfires of stubbornness.

He reaches for the bread roll too far for her to get herself and places it on the edge of her plate without her asking. The cuff of his shirt shifts and reveals the violet flamed twine bracketing his skin, unique and bold as the glow orbing in your abdomen. It disappears under his sleeve as quick as it peeked.

You don’t lose track of their interaction, storing it in the mental box of all the reasons it’ll always be Enoch and Olive and never Enoch and Y/n. They knew each other senseless.

Your mark twinges.

••

It’s been four weeks when he approaches you.

The days in the loop blend into a flurry indecipherable, slowing them and flying them through somehow at once. You’ve taken to tracking the days on an old calendar kept in the children’s home since you joined Loop Peregrine, a tally mark on each day despite the dates not matching up.

You’ve been here for two months now. You’ve talked to Enoch twice.

Three if you count now.

He can’t feel the spidery tingle beneath his skin that you can in his presence, the one that webs you to him in more ways than it should. Girls have always been more sensitive to soulmate related symptoms, blessed (cursed) with more instinctual insight.

You hate the way his soul flares an iridescent outline of blue hues around you, serving another reminder he’ll never be yours that only you can see. Another taunt from fates cruel truths.

The curve of his accent is something you didn’t realise you missed until he opened his mouth. “You're awful at being discreet, you know that?”

“Sorry?” It’s the most you can force yourself to say.

Enoch approaches at a different angle. “You stare. Why?”

Faking nonchalance, you shrug. “I don't stare.”

It only takes a raise of a brow to crumble a large enough portion of your facade. Stone faced or not, you would always be able to read him like a book split open — perks of peculiarities.

“You do.” He bites. “And not just at anything, at anytime. Always at me, always with Olive. Is there an issue you have with us?”

The question hits too close to home. Your reaction spiels out of you quicker than you can cage it, curling at your lip and snarling out of you. “Is there an issue I have with my mate breathing down the neck of another woman? No, of course not, O’Connor. Who could ever find an issue with that?”

Enoch’s face drops.

Realisation hits you like a freight train. You feel the colour drain from you, leaving you unsteady where you stand.

“You’re not my mate.” He strains. “You can’t be. I would’ve known, I would've known from the second I saw you.” There’s a desperation caving his expression, a plea to his eyes that pierces you.

A part of you aches at that, the part that understands lost time and blind eyes, the part that pieces together that you’ve deceived him but it’s overridden by stubborn fear. A mate so infatuated with another he couldn’t see the signs isn’t a mate that could ever love you whole.

“Well, you didn’t.” You can’t stop the bite of your voice.

He pauses, staring into you. It’s the longest interaction you’ve had with him and it sets you alight in all the wrong ways. Despair replaces desperation, written in the way he stumbles a step back from you.

“Why wouldn’t you tell me? Am I not good enough for the almighty hollow survivor?” You watch a bridled rage harden him.

You and him are one split in two, anger lies in the cores of all you are and seeps its way into everything. Now is no exception.

You can’t help but scoff. “I’m not the one in love with someone else.”

Enoch sneers. “Who’s in love with someone else?”

“Are you joking?” A sick lick of humour curls at you. “You can’t be that much of an asshole that you’d lead Olive on.”

“Olive?” Your fingers twitch to gnaw at the ankh, raging infernal at the thought of him thinking of her. The disconcertment in his eyes stops you.

You look at him, really look at him. Really listen to him, really think things through.

“Me and Olive are nothing that you think we are.”

The brief touches that seemed so intimate, the knowing what the other wanted before they had the chance to say, all the time spent together, day in and day out.

“When you’re stuck living the copy of the day before you learn to know who you’re stuck with.”

You’d never thought about it past your mark and his, past soulmates. You’d never had to, flitting between lives and loops too often to make connections.

“But me and Olive are friends. We’ve never been more than that and we never would be more than that.”

You almost feel stupid for making assumptions but the image they create is too entwined for you to have seen through.

“I didn’t want to intrude.” It’s your way of offering an apology.

Enoch pursues his lips. “We’re mates.” Cold fingers circle your wrist, pressed light against his symbol. He doesn’t look away as you shiver and gasp. You watch the navy of his soul quiver. “You could never intrude.”

You take his words for what they are, an acceptance of peace.

~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~ 𐀔 ~

Likes, comments and reblogs are extremely appreciated and very encouraging!

I do not give permission for my works to be translated or reposted on this site or otherwise!

[valiantstarlights]

[The Proposal AU]

Inspired by: @voukkake 's art, and what @valeriianz wrote.

I have totally forgotten that I said Betty White's character should be played by Destiny. 😂 And while I changed my mind about the blanket just now, I'm still pushing for him to do the forest ritual scene. 💃 Anyway, here's my contribution to the dreamling The Proposal AU. 🖤

"Hey, are you both decent?" Johanna, Hob's younger sister, calls out as she raps a quick knock on the door of Hob's bedroom.

Hob, currently lounging on the bed and reading a novel, rolls his eyes and says, "Dream has never been decent once in his entire life, but I suppose we're both fully clothed at the moment."

Dream, who is getting some editing work done at Hob's desk, glares at him from the corner of his eye.

Hob beams at him as the door opens and Jo enters with one hand covering her eyes, while the other held out a wrapped package for either of them to take. "Just delivering this," she says. "Gran said it came in the mail this morning."

"It's already open," Hob notes, putting his book down as he moves to take it from her. "Who is it from?"

"Oh, uh, the entire Endless family? There are a lot of signatures on the letter."

Dream notices an envelope peeking out of the package, and it, too, has been opened. He stands quickly and slaps Hob's hand away before grabbing the letter himself.

"Well, okay, that's all," Jo says mysteriously as she turns back towards the door, trying to navigate her way out of Hob's room with one hand still placed firmly over her eyes. "I'm gonna go and find my noise-cancelling headphones and some duct tape. Just give me like a ten minute headstart, okay? Please? For my sanity?"

"I have literally no idea what's going on," Hob says to the room at large: to Dream, who is reading the letter accompanying the package with a furious look on his face, and to Jo, who is using her other arm like a blind man's cane as she exits the room.

"You'll know soon, Hobsie!" Jo calls out as she crosses the threshold, and immediately slams the door shut. Hob then hears her tearing down the corridor to her room like the hounds of hell are chasing her. "Remember: ten minutes!" she yells out. "Not one second earlier!"

Helpless, Hob turns to his boss. Fake fiancee. Whatever. "Wanna clue me in on why my sister is acting weirder than usual?"

In response, Dream holds up a hand, nonverbally telling him to wait until he finishes reading the letter. A few seconds later, he scoffs in disgust and throws the letter towards Hob, who scrambles to catch it.

"The last paragraph," Dream spits, tone utterly disgusted, then stalks back towards the desk. When he starts typing again, it sounded like he was manifesting for his fingers to turn into hammers so he could destroy the keyboard. "And once you're done reading, burn both the letter and that..infernal package, will you?"

Hob, mystified at what the fuck is actually going on, turns the paper over to read the last paragraph.

'We are sending this letter with The Babymaker, which, if you have already forgotten--like you have forgotten all about our entire family's existence for the past few years--is the Endless family blanket that has been passed down through the generations, in the hopes that you and your fiancee will be blessed with many children.'

Hob chokes on his spit as he reaches the end of the paragraph. "What the fuck?"

"Precisely," Dream says bitterly. "No doubt my parents and a couple of my siblings find this entire situation amusing."

"Okay, first of all," Hob says, very gingerly setting both the package and the letter with the envelope at the farthest corner of the room from the two of them, being very careful not to touch the blanket's fabric, "Who the fuck names their blanket The Babymaker? And second of all, of all the heirlooms to pass down to your children, it has to be the blanket that each and every ancestor used when they fucked? Really?"

"Now you understand why I do not interact with most of my family members," Dream says. "This is not the first time they have gone to great lengths to humiliate me, although sending the blanket to potentially humiliate me in the eyes of my soon-to-be in-laws stink of desperation."

The more Hob learns about Dream's biological family, the more he wants to punch them in the face. No wonder Dream acts like he's under attack all the time. Heck, if Hob grew up in a home where he was treated like shit, he wouldn't emerge prickly and wary. He'd be a full-blown bastard who punches first and talks it out never.

"We could send them a letter back," Hob offers, a little cheekily to infuse some humor in the situation. Dream is clenching his jaw so hard, and a small, miniscule, microscopic part of Hob wants to run his thumb gently over where the muscles are bunched up. Dream was having a pretty okay day before all this. Like, sure, he was muttering that the writer whose work he's currently editing is an idiot, but that's his usual thing. And Hob likes listening to him rant and read ridiculous passages from the manuscript.

(He'd never admit that, of course, but...he's come to like it. He sometimes even looks forward to it.)

"And what shall we say, hm?" Dream challenges, hostility stiffening his shoulders. "That we are grateful for their gift and we are keen to invite them to our wedding? Because this entire thing might be a sham, but I would rather eat hot coals than have either of my parents walk me down the aisle, or my twin siblings be part of the wedding party."

Hob gives in to the temptation and walks towards his desk. He ignores the way Dream sits up even straighter, like he's ready to get into a physical fight, and gently runs his thumb over Dream's jaw.

Immediately, as soon as Hob's thumb makes contact with Dream's jaw, Dream's eyelashes flutter, and his brows furrow. He looks utterly confused. Was he expecting Hob to hurt him? Hob grits his own teeth at that, but takes care not to let the sudden flare of anger show on his face.

When Dream looks up to meet Hob's gaze, Hob could still see the guarded way he holds himself, but there's also yearning in the line of his neck. Hob rubs his jaw again, and does not remove his hand from where it cups Dream's face. He could feel Dream lean infinitesimally closer, and he wordlessly lets him, continuing to run his thumb back and forth in a comforting gesture.

"Disclaimer," Hob says softly, at the sudden hush of the room. "What I'm gonna say next is a joke at your family's expense, so please don't commit violence against my person."

Dream's eyes actually sparkle at that, and the corner of his lips lifts the tiniest amount. "Go on, then," he says. "I welcome jokes at my family's expense. I will even give you bonus points if you make fun of my parents and my twin siblings."

Well. Alright then.

"I was thinking," Hob says slowly, "maybe we should write back and say we didn't need the blanket at all, since I totally got you pregnant weeks ago when we fucked at your place, just after you gave the most romantic proposal ever. The doctor said we're having twins, and since I'm a total simp for you, I will allow you to commit all sorts of crimes, including not letting our children meet your parents and your twin siblings, and burning the Endless family's precious blanket heirloom at the very first opportunity."

"You would dare invite the wrath of the entire Endless family, both the living and the dead, just to please my arsonist tendencies?" Dream asks, but his eyes are crinkled in laughter, and he's actually smiling.

"Yeah," Hob says, suddenly feeling a strange, tender sensation in his chest. Dream absolutely looks breathtaking when he smiles. "Absolutely."

"Then come," Dream says, and stands. Hob watches him pick up the package holding The Babymaker, as well as the envelope and letter that Hob had set aside. "We still have an hour before dinner, and I would rather not sleep in the same room as this wretched thing."

Fuck, Hob thinks inanely, mind still replaying how Dream's smile widened as Hob talked shit about his family. They were really gonna burn The Endless family's highly inappropriate and very disgusting heirloom.

"Hob," Dream says, now on the threshold of Hob's room. One eyebrow was raised in a manner that should definitely not make Hob's nether regions interested. "Are you coming?"

"Yeah," Hob says quickly, and rushes to Dream's side. He feels like he's gonna trip at any moment. "It could prove cathartic for you," he says, a little stupidly. He has to say something so he doesn't think about Dream's smile and his imperiously raised eyebrow. "And symbolic. Like watching bad memories burn and be reduced to nothing."

Dream hums and takes Hob's arm as they walk down the stairs to go outside. It's a bit chilly out, but not too much. Apparently, it's more important to Dream that they burn the damn thing than pause for a second to don a jacket. "Reword that, and I'll allow you to use it in your novel."

"Great," Hob squeaks out at Dream's fond tone. "Definitely will remember that one."

He has already forgotten what he just said, his entire being focused on Dream's warm hand on his arm, and the scent of his own shampoo.

"I will remember for you," Dream assures him. "Eidetic memory, remember?"

Hob was about to say that that is something he will definitely not be forgetting any time soon, except it was at that moment that they hear Jo holler all the way from her room, "Finally found my noise-cancelling headphones! The two of you can fuck now!"

Their eyes meet, and there is a moment of silence, before Dream lets out the most frightening laugh Hob has ever heard, except all he feels is giddy and fond and slightly off balance, like something huge just happened, and his entire world has been changed irrevocably.

[quitealotofsodapop]

Nezha in the Century Egg au;

Almost forgot our perfect lotus boy!

In the Century Stone egg au; Wukong entrusts Nezha with waking him up/taking a peak at the cave every so often, but he doesn't let him in on *why* Wukong is "meditating" for 500 years. Wukong fears Nezha pulling a DBK-level move and he can't risk it .

Nezha agrees, but obviously he's pulling double duty as is with guarding the Map to the Samadhi Fire, so he sometimes forgets what he was meant to do. He sometimes runs into Princess Iron Fan when he visits Flower Fruit Mountain, and depite being former comrades, he feels no hate towards her. Nezha understands that Wukong is one of the few connections that PIF has left in the Mortal Plane, and thinks it's perfectly reasonable for her to be on standby until the monkey wakes up from his deep sleep.

Then one day, as Nezha is *actually* meditating; he's flipping through some requests/prayers to him when he gets a very unusual prayer from FFM;

Ao Yi, hands clasped and crying: "Nezha, Patron God of Children - please ensure my little Mei is found safe and well!"

Nezha: "What the- dragons don't pray to me..."

And they don't. After the incident with Ao Bing, dragons as a whole would rather due than be caught praying to the Lotus Prince. Even to request the safety of their children.

Feeling very sus, Nezha flies down to ask the dragon parents whats up - especially since PIF told him that very few souls are able to even reach the Monkey King's island without permission.

The two dragons are completely distressed, explaining that they were relaxing on a camping trip and that their toddler-aged pup had wandered off into the jungle after what looked to be a supernatural flame.

Nezha manages to brush off the weirdness of his "clients" being dragons enough to zero in on where the little pup had run off too- and she's in Brother Wukong's cave!

Nezha zips towards Water Curtain Cave with the dragon couple at his heels. He bursts through the waterfall only to see the dirty dragon pup digging around in the soil with.... Wukong's Pilgrim brothers?

And whats that statue of a monkey doing here??

PIF: "Oh, Nezha. Glad you're here. Hold him for me please.* PIF: *hands Nezha toddler Red Son* Nezha: "EH!?" The Monkey *statue*: *starts cracking like an egg* Nezha: "?!?!?"

Its a very odd family reunion.

The lotus prince has to be filled in on some details once Wukong wakes up, and he will have things to say about Wukong burying himself for 500 years to have a baby. And he's seconds away from throttling the monkey when he hears that the process is potientially lethal no matter the immortality.

He accidentally sorta joins the Noodle Shop gang's found family? Mostly cus Tang mentioned that the Lotus Prince died as a child, and the rest got super protective of him.

The real confusion for the Lotus Prince comes about when he's called to act as baliff at the trial of Sun Wukong vs the Heavenly and Infernal Court!? What?! How did this happen- "Oh hi Macaque."

Nezha is trusted as a high-ranking officer to keep the Six Eared Macaque detained for the trial. Nezha wonders why Macaque is pretending to be held by the ropes/handcuffs.

Nezha delivers a pretty solid testimony/character witness for Wukong, as I do believe he defended Wukong while in the presence of a Boddisattva in Jttw, and he pretty much considers the monkey a brother figure.

Nezha is one of the gods to glance over at Wukong when the Monkey King started shifting uncomfortably in his seat. His godly powers told him *something* was happening, but being a mental teenager, Nezha couldn't think what.

Then the Monkey King goes into labor in the middle of the Heavenly Court while pleading for the soul of his mate.

Nezha naturally freaks the frick out.

[mynamesaplant]

When a Girl Falls from the Sky

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Hello reader! Welcome to my extremely last minute MerMay story. Truth be told, it is only tangentially related to MerMay - more set in an AU that has a lot of mers. Still, I hope you enjoy!!

Summary: Professor Laventon gets a new research assistant, but a lot of strange things seem to keep happening around her. Come Hell or high water - and both are very real options as Hisui finds itself sinking into the sea - Laventon will have Dawn's back!

Content Warnings:This fic contains brief mentions of blood and violence against children.

Notes: Thanks once again to all the inspiration from monsoon-of-art on Tumblr and their PLA Mer AU. You're amazing and your knowledge of the ocean astounds and frightens me. For more context on Dawn's encounter with Volo, please read here. Don't like to read on Tumblr? Read it here on AO3.

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The silence felt oppressive to his ears, the professor had forced himself to stop pacing around his lab to avoid burning a hole in the carpet. He tapped his foot to fill the quiet, anything would be better than to sit there with the thought that they would eject Dawn from the village.

No.

He had to have faith in Cyllene.

She was a fair captain.

Laventon closed his eyes. Rather than his worries that she would be kicked out, he felt the crash of phantom waves against his legs, threatening to bowl him over. His face scrunched, his mouth creasing into a frown when an involuntary shiver ran up his spine – he felt the cold screaming through his limbs. Early spring waters were deceptive like that; ice-free but retaining that deadly cold that would kill a human within minutes when left to their own devices.

Had he not seen her falling from the sky like a shooting star, her body enshrouded in a burning light that almost blinded him, she would have drowned. Unconscious and already sinking, he had barely managed to reach her in time before she went under.

Towing her back through the choppy water wasn’t easy. When he finally managed to drag her to the shore, she wasn’t breathing, and her skin was equal parts cold and pale.

“No, no, no!”

Laventon hissed through chattering teeth, hauling the girl into his lap so she wasn’t face first in the sand, before aiming some well-placed pats at her back. Nothing happened. He stifled a curse, measuring the strength of the next few strikes until he heard a guttural cough and then a sputter.

Quivering arms wrapped around him, but Laventon couldn’t tell if she was cold or scared.

Pesselle had yelled at him when he burst through the doors of her medical wing. Too busy getting yelled at, he did not see where the girl in his arms had been taken to, but he didn’t argue when she shunted him into his office to strip, chucking a blanket in as an afterthought. He couldn’t even manage an embarrassed blush – that’s how cold he was. He obeyed the medic’s command, after all, wet clothes were a death sentence.

Bagin was sent in a few minutes later, instructed to monitor and to stoke the fire in the hearth.

“The girl-”

“Calm yourself, professor. Pesselle will most likely bring her in here. This room is infernally hot.”

As if on cue, three of the Medical Corp opened the door, two of whom were carrying the girl on a stretcher. She was out cold, her raven black hair still damp and plastered on her forehead. The rattle in her chest was worrisome, but not something that Pesselle couldn’t work her magic on.

The girl’s stretcher was laid before the hearth and one of the medics remained in the room, told by Pesselle to be on standby in case their unconscious patient woke up. Laventon sighed, looking at this poor child and scootching a little closer to lay a hand on hers, her fingers twitched but she didn’t wake. He didn’t want her to wake up alone.

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Dawn.

Her name was Dawn.

That was all she seemed to recall.

That first night when she woke up in a panic, shivering and drawing the blankets tighter around herself, he was able to temporarily assuage her fears. Laventon was the one who convinced her to drink some broth and tea. It was Laventon who interjected on Dawn’s behalf as Kamado and Cyllene debated on what to do with her.

“She’s young! A young mind is moldable and inquisitive.” When that didn’t seem to move either the commander or captain, Laventon was quick to stammer out that he needed another research assistant. “Rei is a wonderful young man, but Dawn… she’s practically fearless. She would be an invaluable asset to my little team.”

His voice was bordering on pleading because he knew what happened to those who were not useful to the team. Kamado seemed skeptical and Cyllene looked as unreadable as ever.

Laventon would stake his reputation on it. If she failed, he failed.

He had seen her inquisitive nature when he took her back to the beach to find any possession that might have arrived with her. She seemed a little wary of the water but spent most of the time rummaging through the sand and surf asking questions about his research. Dawn hung on to his every word, beaming when he told her about his excursions to the north of the continent where a few species of penguin could be found.

He knew she was chock full of potential. It was just a matter of harnessing it.

The conversation that ensued between the professor and the soon-to-be researcher was candid. It had to be. Neither Captain Cyllene nor Commander Kamado would be sensitive to her situation, so Laventon merely did his best to mentally prepare her for the meeting that he was not permitted to attend.

She passed Cyllene’s test with flying colors and was in the field the next day with him and Rei at the tidal pools. Dawn would snatch crabs from the depths with lightning reflexes, careful to avoid pinching as she called out measurements and sex to Rei for each specimen.

A charming little quirk she developed over time was to thank every crab before tossing them into a bucket, so the creature was not counted twice that day. Laventon would then carefully tag each crab for future researching purposes and return them to the pools. With the three of them, they could get the work done with twice the speed, since Rei was hesitant to collect anything from the water; he was happy to just record numbers and sketch each specimen pulled from the pools.

“Professor,” Rei was bringing a small wagon for their supplies as the tides slowly began to reclaim the shore. Laventon looked over at Dawn as he dabbed at his forehead in the mid-afternoon heat, trying to avoid sweat in his eyes. “Thank you… for vetting me.”

Oh.

“Of course, my dear girl! Of course. I couldn’t ask for an assistant as hands-on as you.”

Dawn offered him a wobbly smile in return, sniffling quietly before dipping some of the instruments into the water to get the grit and grime off them.

They returned to the village in amiable silence.

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It took every fiber of his being not to panic. Rei was talking so fast, breathless and dizzy, but the words didn’t make sense – well, all but four.

Dawn in the water.

Since nearly drowning when Laventon found her, Dawn had been reluctant to get near water where she couldn’t see the bottom. Although he had done his best to route her research inland, Cyllene occasionally had her out on ships to take stock of the variety of fish surrounding the continent of Hisui. 

On those days, Dawn would return to his office wordlessly, deposit the reports that Cyllene had already pored over into his overflowing in-bin, collapsed onto the sofa, and cocooned herself up in an afghan. It was an ordeal, but one that he found quite understandable given her circumstances.

Rei had found her, unresponsive and cold, on the rocks. Although close to the same age, Rei was smaller than Dawn, she was at least three inches and twenty pounds heavier than the other teen and, despite this, he single-handedly hauled her up the muddy path from the tide pools and the half mile to the village. The professor only just took in the splatters of mud and blood on the uniform newly adorned with tears from the branches snagging him as he ran. Blood dribbled from his balled fists, his head hung as he mumbled to himself about being faster.

If I had been faster… If I had realized sooner…

If, if, if –

“You did all you could, Rei. You mustn’t blame yourself for this. You hear me? You mustn’t. No use in it.”

He gently pried the young man’s hand open and took stock of the gravel and dirt embedded into the heels of his hands. Rei must have fallen carrying her. One pant leg was torn open at the knee and extended down almost to his ankle, it bore similar damage to his hands.

Laventon instructed him to sit so he might tend to his superficial wounds before Pesselle discovered that he avoided the medical wing. He wanted her to focus on Dawn, so he quickly fled to Laventon’s office.

With soft tipped forceps that he usually reserved for insect specimens, Laventon removed the gravel and gently washed the wounds with soap and water to avoid infection.

“Dawn will be alright.”

He said, unsure if he was saying it to assuage Rei’s or his own fears.

Dawn was made of tougher stock than that…

It just didn’t make sense to Laventon why she would have been down there at all in such a tumultuous storm. Unfortunately, he wouldn’t know until she awoke, and he had the distinct feeling that the answer would be unsatisfactory.

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He can’t say he didn’t notice the dramatic heel turn that Dawn took after her second, near-fatal drowning. Cyllene’s steely gaze flicked almost imperceptibly to him and then back to the eager girl before her, her expression neutral as she asked why she wanted to spend more time on the ships.

“I can’t avoid the water forever. If I don’t learn out at sea where I have no choice but to be surrounded by water, when else will I learn?”

While the reasoning wasn’t so sound, Cyllene wasn’t going to turn down a young, able body. Her stints on a research vessel and then fishing boat were – as the two captains tried to politely put it – filled with nausea. With Dawn’s fear of the water dulled with her three weeks at sea, she returned to her work with Laventon with little fanfare and worked just as hard as she ever had.

Something was different about her.

He couldn’t put his finger on it, but Dawn was different.

Almost distant.

She kept asking for assignments in parts of the region that were not well explored by the Galaxy Team. Even as Laventon tried to object, Kamado and Cyllene were swift to silence him, as the ultimate goal was to explore.

“Dawn…” Laventon loathed himself for even speaking up. His young associate was chatting away about her recent mission which involved her going to the far eastern shores where, or so he was told, the waters were warm, and a volcano smoked ominously just off the sugary white sand shores. “I’m worried about you.”

Her excited expression was wiped away with an abrupt and confused frown.

What was she doing wrong? She was doing exactly what the captain and commander wanted, so why would he say something like that? She didn’t understand.

His mouth went dry, his hand absently scratching his scalp under his woolen hat, which was just a vain attempt to avoid eye contact. He really did make this awkward.

“Er, what I suppose I mean is…” Laventon took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to slow down the flurry of words crowding his brain and trying to leave his mouth all at once. “The progress you’ve made is phenomenal. You’re doing such good work for the team… but I feel as though you’re pushing yourself too hard.”

That at least made her face soften.

“My job is important, professor. If I don’t do it, who’s gonna get it done?”

That was true to some degree. He was only one person and, although he appreciated him thoroughly for everything he did, Rei was not as willing to forge new paths to record the land of Hisui for future generations of field conservationists.

“I suppose,” he admitted, offering her a sheepish smile. “I just don’t want to see such a brightness burn out too soon. Like Eos, you need your rest to be the best version of you.”

Although the comparison seemed lost on her, Dawn did not ask him to explain, she offered him a tired smile and approached him with open arms. Laventon readily accepted her hug, resting his cheek on the top of her head as he felt her heave out a great sigh.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

“Good gracious!”

“You promised me you wouldn’t freak out!”

“Dawn – This is…”

Laventon was at a loss for words. So was Rei beside him, his jaw flapping like a fish gasping for oxygen. He had seen her toting that strange flute around for some time now and he had just assumed it was something she had bought to pass the time on long journeys across the continent.

That was not the case.

She played her flute and was swept up in bright light before appearing before them with the stark white tail of a harp seal pup where her legs should have been. Rei had stumbled back into a table, knocking the papers and instruments to the floor and Laventon stood motionless. It suddenly made a lot more sense why she spent more time in the uncharted wilderness.

“Are you… Is that thing cursed? How is this happening?”

If Dawn had been expecting him to be upset, she was mistaken. In fact, Laventon, after the initial shock, was beaming with excitement. Mysteries like these were the most intriguing things that the natural world had to offer!

The story had its holes, of course. Dawn had them both sit down so she could explain the whole thing, and both were glad that she had, because each twist and turn left them in greater shock than the last.

“A whole society of mer-people?”

He was almost giddy with excitement, but Rei was quick to put a hamper on it as he said something chilling under his breath.

“Beni did see a monster… They’re the ones destroying the ships…”

“They’re not monsters!”

“They destroyed ships, Dawn!”

“Alright, alright.” Laventon stood up quickly, inserting himself between the two teens with hands outstretched to signal them to stop. “We cannot pass judgment on these creatures – No, people. I apologize. We came into their territory, unwittingly or not, and they’re responding to that invasion. However, they seem like intelligent, emotional beings from what you’ve told us, so perhaps we can come to some sort of arrangement with-”

“I don’t think that’s possible, professor.”

Dawn interjected, nibbling on her lower lip. She had tried to get them to stop without outing herself as a human herself, but they still felt threatened. Laventon thought of a cornered cat baring its fangs, hissing and spitting in warning, but the Galaxy Team did not know of the existence of mer-people, let alone the signals of warning they were issuing.

Oh, what a sticky situation indeed.

Did these people have something to do with the rising waters that were threatening Galaxy Team? Each week the waters slowly swallowed up more and more of the land, forcing them to move further inland and abandon all the progress they had made. It would certainly benefit them. If this continued, then the team would have no choice but to return from whence they came, but Dawn told them no.

“It hurts them, too. They have these… Sacred animals. Some of them live on land and others have been going berserk. I’ve been – uh… Dealing with them.”

His eye twitched, trying to ignore the idea that Dawn was explicitly putting herself in danger to ask something else. The mere thought alone made his stomach churn uncomfortably. However unprofessional, Laventon had come to care for Dawn like she was his own, hence the immediate desire to tell her to never do anything so dangerous ever again.

He didn’t need to say anything however, because Rei did it for him.

“Didn’t you say one of those animals was a turtle the size of a mountain?”

Ludicrous. Preposterous. Absurd.

Dawn’s redirection spoke volumes.

“I need some way to neutralize jellyfish venom… From a big jellyfish.”

Laventon sat down heavily, head in his hands because he was starting to develop a headache. He was a scientist. He was trained to be open to any and all possibilities – magic though? Dawn had literally performed the impossible before his eyes.

In a sudden movement, the professor got up, startling both teens, and strode across the room to riffle through his unorganized papers.

“I have to have something here about jellyfish.”

It might have been impossible, but if Dawn needed his help, then he would do everything in his power to assist her.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Cyllene levelled a hard stare at him and Laventon glowered right back.

Nothing he said swayed Kamado. Everyone looked at her like she was a monster when she was very much a sweet girl who had only ever done her best to help. He was inches from a row, one he would lose in heartbeat, and it would have been worth it for how Kamado treated Dawn.

Since Cyllene by way of Zisu had prevented him from engaging in any sort of fight, Laventon was now trying to drag a rowboat across Prelude Beach and again found resistance.

“Please move, captain.”

He was trying to keep his voice level. It wasn’t working.

“You know I can’t. We need your expertise now more than ever in the village. I cannot in good conscious standby and let you go on a fruitless rescue mission.”

“And I cannot in good conscious stand here while she’s out there fending for herself while the whole of Hisui gets devoured by the sea!” Laventon felt the blood rushing to his head, his thoughts as clouded as the blackening sky above. He had failed. “I can’t…”

The captain stood before, as unmoved as she had been before, and Laventon felt like all the wind was knocked out of him. All he could do was look down at her pleadingly and Cyllene’s face was stone-cold.

“I ordered Dawn to not die alone out there. She will come back to us – alive. Perhaps not unscathed, but she will come back. Now please, Professor Laventon, return to the village. We haven’t much time.”

Begrudgingly, he followed.

Zisu and Sanqua were in the process of evacuating, Pesselle and her staff helping the elderly and infirmed into a cart that was to take them further inland. Cyllene and Laventon splashed through the rapidly rising water, the encroaching sea which had been inching inland was now flooding the newly erected houses of Jubilife Village. Timbers groaned against the rushing rapids but were temporarily still upright.

Sanqua called out to them that they must hurry, because the structures would not hold for long.

Cyllene took charge in the commander’s conspicuous absence, barking out orders to her fellow captains and to the inhabitants. Laventon made a mad dash for Galaxy Hall where Rei was scrambling to collect all of his notes and books – anything that would be of use to them. His method was haphazard, but the professor wordlessly joined him and crammed a bag full before shoving his assistant out.

“Is anyone else here? Anyone?”

Laventon called frantically, but there was only the sound of water from outside.

He left Galaxy Hall, the stream flowing through Jubilife already overtaking its banks and the smell of salt stinging his nose as waves crashed into the western gate. Professor Laventon did not look back, only looking up to the blood red sky and silently begging Dawn for forgiveness and the Almighty for her safety.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

She barely got the words out as Laventon tackled her into a hug.

One so tight that she wheezed, but she returned his hug with equal vigor. He didn’t care about the mer-people staring daggers at him, his analytical mind didn’t immediately take over to have him barrel over and immediately begin examining every inch of Dawn’s new friends.

No.

Professor Laventon just held her, his knees aching from where they made hard contact with the sand and his heart pounding so hard and fast that he was fearful of a bout of tachycardia if he did not force himself to take a breath.

“You’re safe. Oh Dawn, thank the Almighty, you’re safe.”

She had some scratches and bruises, but like Cyllene suggested, she was mostly unscathed. Although not a particularly religious man, Laventon couldn’t help but thank all the gods listening for keeping her alive.

He drew back, carefully swiping the quiet tears from her cheeks and scrubbed at his own scruffy face with his forearm. It was only after that that he felt several pairs of eyes burning through him and he shrunk away from the imposing figures looming behind his young assistant. Dawn seemed to notice the radiating emotions from behind her and turned to say he was a friend.

“Professor Laventon taught me everything. He’s my biggest cheerleader.”

Dawn had to stifle a wet giggle when Laventon blushed, unconsciously rubbing the back of his neck with embarrassment. His reply was sheepish,

“Suppose I am…”

One mer-person, by far the biggest one there, emitted a low growl of contempt that made Laventon wince.

“Actually, that’s not fair. Ingo is tied with you.”

Dawn gestured to the merman in question, the bright blue of the sky sending his face into shadow and his folded arms made him remarkably unapproachable. The fact that his torso extended into the body of an absolutely massive orca did not send the best message either.

However –

“You, er – You looked after her, Mr. Ingo?”

He cleared his throat, but it still sounded a bit shrill.

“Yes, I took Dawn on as my charge when I became aware of her transformations. She has been a part of my cab for a considerable time now.”

Professor Laventon swallowed his fear, trying his best to replace it with the gratitude he knew was inside him under the intimidation.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

The merman lifted his hand and tipped a hat that Laventon had not realized was atop his head, his dark expression momentarily clear and he realized that he had nothing to worry about. He and Mr. Ingo were the same. They cared about Dawn and that was the only understanding they really needed.

“Would you mind introducing me to everyone else?”

The professor said after a moment, Dawn pulled him to his feet after she played a brief, haunting tune on her flute. This time, she hugged him properly, her fingers practically wringing the back of his shirt and her face pressed into the filthy tweed vest. That was all he needed to know that she had just been through an ordeal and was keeping up a front because that’s what she always did.

This whole time she had been living a double life and there were still unknown consequences to her actions. He didn’t need to ask to know she was terrified and didn’t know how to let it show to anyone but him.

“There, there.”

He soothed, feeling her sag against him. Laventon exhaled slowly, feeling her shoulders shake with a silent sob.

“Come what may, I will always be beside you and, in the end, it will all be alright.”

With that assurance and a hard gulp of air, Dawn turned around to begin introducing her mentor to the various members of the Diamond and Pearl Clans in attendance.

Even with his worries with Dawn, he had to tamp down the excitement he felt from being able to identify helpful adaptations and deviations from human and various animal anatomy.

By the time dusk rolled around, the one Dawn called Adaman – the leader of the Diamond Clan – was half blushing, half smirking as the professor marveled at the intricate webbing between his fingers.

Both leaders were giving him their assurances that they would assist the Galaxy Team in any way they could while the ocean slowly receded. It would be some time before that happened though, so they whole village took refuge in the skeletal remains of a temple on top of the mountain.

“Truthfully, I should not be the one negotiating this. You should really talk to Commander Kamado-”

“We would prefer not to at present.”

Irida’s voice was icy and Adaman pulled his hand back, a snarl morphing his face at the mention of the name.

“Erm… Perhaps Captain Cyllene then?”

She was the next best option, of course. All three mer-people turned to Dawn and only turned back to Laventon after receiving an assenting nod.

Thank Almighty. He was no politician.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

The constant flux between water and land was usual for Dawn by this point. Much of the unusual became common place by this point. The awkward first phase of the villagers meeting the mer-people was long over. Full cooperation was essential for survival.

Laventon likened it to anemones and clownfish.

Symbiosis.

The clans seemed to respond particularly well to him and Rei in particular, since their interest was in the natural world there was a lot less explanation involved with basic day-to-day activities that mer-people engaged in. They also were extremely careful with the world around them, admiring and studying, but never interfering.

All the wardens, however begrudgingly, allowed Laventon to examine them – and he was diligent but deferential. Since Dawn trusted him, they trusted him, and the professor would never betray that trust.

Once the waters lowered, Jubilife Village began to surge with life once more. Kamado had issued an apology to Dawn; everyone agreed it was half-hearted at best, but Dawn forgave him. The sad smile and haunted look to her eyes made it plain that she didn’t bear the commander any chagrin, because she knew exactly what he was afraid of.

For a time, everything seemed so normal.

---------------------------------------------------------------------

Dawn crawled back to Jubilife, blood matted in her hair and dried on her face save for the streak marks her tears had cut through it.

Volo.

Laventon had such admiration for the man. He had been such a help to Dawn when she had been abandoned on all sides. He even spent a lot of money on a bottle of Beni’s good sake to thank the merchant.

He had been conspiring. Boiling with an unseen rage and contempt that had nearly killed Dawn, twice.

Laventon insisted on telling the clan leaders – alone. He didn’t think Cyllene or Kamado would be able to explain it with the same level of anger that the man had burning through every capillary and neuron.

Adaman and Irida’s reactions ranged from confusion to shock to an unbridled fury that Laventon only gladly stoked the flames of. He would have wrung Volo’s neck himself, but he had to be long gone. Perhaps still skulking around the sea floor, out of reach of the consequences he would face for nearly killing Dawn at the hands of Galaxy Team, but not of the clans.

“She defeated Volo and the many-armed serpent, but at great cost. She’s laid up in the infirmary now. Our finest doctor is tending to her as we speak. As I have come to understand, the beast brought her to the surface as an act of atonement before absconding… I don’t know what became of Volo.”

He spit the last word. The damnable snake in the grass!

“That bloody bastard!”

Laventon couldn’t help it, barking out his frustration and ripping his hat off his head. He was shaking.

Twice.

Twice on his watch, Dawn had nearly died.

What good was he?

Laventon cleared his throat. Providing a description of the man and telling both leaders that Volo was extremely dangerous, the professor implied that no human punishment would be suitable for deeds.

“I’m sorry. I must get back to Dawn… She’s a most stubborn patient.”

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 12: [INFERNAL FRIENDS] asmo, simeon, luke / trick-or-treat

ao3 link

note: there's a post about how the angels meet ik in this au, but this is a sorta alternate version of that, since in this one simeon is finding out about the whole child-summoning-demons situation for the first time. requested by 🐧 anon!!

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

The decision to descend to the human world at this time, and in this place, is a very carefully measured one. Simeon chooses ‘Halloween’ evening in a nondescript town - when visibility will be low, when there will be plenty of children in costume, and where they’re very unlikely to come across any rogue sorcerers or witches.

In other words, a perfect excursion for two angels in very thin disguises, where he can take Luke to play for a few hours without issue. Except clearly he’s missed something.

Is that Asmodeus?

He almost walks straight into a pole. Maybe it’s a trick of the light? There are plenty of adults dressed in costumes that could be considered devilish— no, that’s definitely him. He’d recognise the elaborate hair and honey-sweet smile anywhere, even dressed in that mysterious trench coat.

It’s the first time he’s seen him since the war ended. He first moves to say hello, then pauses and retreats, and endeavours to hide in the shadows of the street instead. Of course, that’s exactly when Asmodeus turns around and looks him dead in the eyes.

Simeon suddenly wishes he’d chosen a heavier disguise. Asmodeus stares at him, open-mouthed, for a moment - then breaks into a bright smile and makes an immediate beeline in his direction.

“Fancy seeing you here!” He exclaims as soon as he’s in earshot. “What’s the occasion, huh?”

Simeon opens his mouth to respond, then pauses. A pair of dark eyes blink up at him from Asmodeus’s side - he can’t tell if the little horns peeking out of the child’s hair are real. Do demons often come with bright red ones? He hasn’t met enough to know.

“Oh, who’s this?” Asmodeus leans down and grins at Luke. “Are you Simeon’s new apprentice?”

Luke stares at him with wide, frightened eyes. His face begins to crumple.

“It’s lovely to see you again,” Simeon quickly interjects, subtly herding Luke behind himself.

“And you! Gosh, who would’ve thought.” Asmodeus glances down, eyes crinkling. “This is an old friend of mine, darling. Say hi!”

“Hello,” mumbles his little friend. Her eyes are fixed firmly on Simeon’s left shoe.

“IK’s just a bit shy,” Asmodeus says fondly. “So’s yours, I see.”

“Ah, this is Luke,” Simeon introduces as the little angel peers suspiciously around his leg. “We’re just on an outing.”

“It’s that easy for angels to come down here now, huh?”

Simeon doesn’t know how to respond to that. Luckily, he doesn’t have to - Asmo’s little friend has finally elected to look up, and is now staring directly into his face with interest.

She tugs on Asmo’s sleeve and waits for him to bend down, then whispers loudly enough for Simeon to hear anyway: “Is he like you?”

Asmo blinks, then shakes his head with an uneasy smile. “Haha, not exactly. Do you wanna guess?”

It’s at that moment that Simeon wishes he hadn’t chosen these costumes. It had been a little joke for himself at the time, but in present company, it feels more tasteless than anything.

IK stares up at Simeon’s wire-and-paper halo, then says confidently, “Fairy.”

“Not quite, sweetheart.”

“Elf?” She tries. “Um… um…”

Luke, at this point, starts shuffling out from behind Simeon again. After a moment, he pipes up helpfully, “Angel.”

“Angel?” IK looks surprised. Apparently she hadn’t realised there were two of them. “Hello, angel.”

“Hi,” says Luke shyly, then suddenly pulls his hat over his eyes.

IK stares at him, then looks up at Asmo again, unimpressed.

“Why don’t you show Luke how to trick-or-treat?” He suggests cheerfully. “He’s never gone before.”

IK considers this for a while, then nods solemnly and proffers a hand. “Come on, angel.”

It takes some persuasion (a nudge from Simeon, and IK making clicking noises as if calling a cat), but Luke is brave enough to follow her down the street. Asmo makes brief eye contact with Simeon, then indicates that they should follow behind.

IK points to a house that a pair of boys in skeleton masks are just leaving. Luke listens intently to whatever she’s saying as she leads him up the path - then freezes when she side-steps neatly behind him as soon as they reach the door.

Asmo clucks in disapproval. “I should’ve known she’d do that. She never wants to do it on her own.”

“I’m sure Luke can handle it,” Simeon says, watching as the couple standing in the threshold coo at the pair. “He acts much shyer when I’m watching, but he’s really quite brave.”

“So’s IK - she just hates talking to strangers.” Asmo waves as IK turns around to show him her new lollipop with a sweet smile. “Doesn’t she look pleased with herself? Honestly…”

They watch as IK tugs Luke to the side to let a group of older children pass. One of them - dressed like a reaper, complete with scythe and cloak - pauses to say something.

Asmo tenses. Simeon doesn’t see the danger, to be honest, but he does the same. Asmo seems to know his bearings down here far better than him.

The older child says something. IK silently steps a little closer, peers down into their bucket, then takes something out of her pocket. What follows looks like a business deal - the kids exchange something, nodding at each other, and the older child offers a handshake.

“Oh, that’s one of the kids from school, I think - they swap fruit at lunch,” Asmo says, distracted, then turns to Simeon with a grin. “She won’t let me tell her dad she hates mango.”

Simeon nods absently, but in truth his mind is already racing. IK has dark hair and eyes, like Lucifer, but neither of quite the same shade - and a blank resting expression that reminds him of a younger Beelzebub, but a smile more like Belphegor’s. There's a Leviathan-like quality to the way she attempts to huddle behind the nearest familiar person, too, and...

...in the first place, though, surely it hasn’t been that long already? Can demons even—?

“She’s adorable,” He decides to start, hoping it’ll make the next part more delicate. “So, who… um… whose is she?”

Asmo squints at him for a moment. Then realisation dawns.

“Oh, no— nonono, it’s not like that! It’s— see, okay—” He stumbles over his words as if falling down stairs. “—I’m just visiting.”

“...ah.” Simeon clears his throat. “I’m so sorry, I thought—”

“It’s fine!” Asmo cuts him off very quickly. “No, she’s human.”

“I see.” He’s quiet for a moment before he realises that this only raises more questions. “...but what in the world are you doing here?”

“Taking her trick-or-treating,” He says, and looks offended that he’d even ask.

“I can see that.” He’s beginning to feel a little frustrated now. Should he have known beforehand, somehow? “I meant— well, I wasn’t expecting it.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Now he sounds cross. “It’s not like we spend all our time torturing people. What do you think demons do all day?”

Simeon opens his mouth to respond, but finds that he can’t think of anything. Asmo huffs and folds his arms.

“She summons us,” He explains after a moment. “So we come up whenever she needs a friend.”

“Oh.”

“What?”

“I was under the impression that the Devildom was quite a… closed community.”

“Well, Lord Diavolo comes the most out of any of us. And you’re one to talk.”

They come to a standstill, both regarding each other with taciturn sternness. Asmo seems to be daring him to protest.

After a moment, Simeon smiles. Softly, he says, “I don’t mean to sound disapproving. I’m happy for you, really.”

Asmo looks a little suspicious, but relaxes as well. “...good! Well, let’s catch up with them, shall we?”

The kids haven’t made it that far up the road - it’d be impressive if they had - so it only takes a quick jog to get back to them. Luke’s taken off his hat to store his sweets, and he presents Simeon with it proudly.

“Now, now, you can’t make poor Luke do all the work,” Asmo chides as IK turns around to look at him. “Come on, you can do it on your own.”

IK doesn’t move. Luke says a little anxiously, “Um, I don’t mind.”

“Still.” Asmo gives IK a little chuck under the chin. “It’s good to step out a bit, sweetheart.”

“It’s quite a lot of new people,” Simeon comments. “It’s natural to be shy, isn’t it?

IK looks at him for a moment, then sidles silently towards him. Asmo looks positively affronted. “Wh— hey, you can’t do that!”

She looks at him and then says, “Angel’s my best friend now.”

“Oh, come on - I know you don’t like it, but I’m looking out for you, you know?”

She frowns at him. Luke chooses this moment to pipe up, "I think I saw a cat down that road."

IK turns nearly immediately. Casting only the briefest of glances back at her demon guardian, she grabs Simeon's sleeve with one hand, and Luke's forearm with the other, then starts tugging them away.

"This is so unfair," huffs Asmo loudly, but begins following behind anyway. "You traitor, Simeon!"

"Awfully sorry," He calls over his shoulder. "I don't seem to have the strength to resist."

They don't find a cat, but IK does successfully push Simeon into knocking on the next door for her. This is, of course, the complete opposite of the lesson Asmo was attempting to impart, but she is no longer making Luke do it. Simeon can't tell if this is a clever jump through a loophole on her part, or if she's elected to ignore Asmo entirely.

The rebellion doesn't last long, though. They encounter a skeleton decoration hung on someone's fence that pops forward and screams as they pass by - and while Luke seizes Simeon's arm with a wail, IK jumps two feet in the air, and immediately scurries straight back into Asmo's already-open arms. He seems to have forgotten his protests as soon as he's lifted her from the ground.

Simeon still isn't sure he really understands how all of this came to be, but the soft look on Asmo's face is real enough. As too is the way IK clings to him - as if she trusts him to fight off all that is frightening in the world.

The night is still young. They'll have to make the most of it while they're here, and there will certainly not be a word breathed to the other angels about it when they get home. Children will be children, and children need friends, just as much as demons do.

[forget-me-maybe]

snippet thursday

thank you for tagging me @heartfluttered

tags for: @kimberbohwrites aaand @graysparrowao3

this is from my really silly midwinter special that i can't explain except i wanted to domesticate raphael because he's a fucking simp for his little mouse and nothing can change that EVER

AU TO YSKU WHERE HE REMAINS HUMAN (OR IS IT AN AU? OR IS IT NOT? I SHAN'T SAY)

It’s the night before Midwinter, and Raphael lounges on the sofa with today’s Gazette while the little mouse busies herself in the kitchen, preparing for tomorrow’s get-together, shooting down every half-hearted attempt of him lending a hand. 

“You’ll ruin my system,” she says. 

Raphael can’t find a system in the mess that’s their currently living area even if he makes his most generous interpretation of the word. 

Yet, he won’t complain. The house has never smelled better, and every now and then the little mouse comes by with a spoonful of something she’s working on for him to taste. Mostly, he’ll tell her it’s perfect. Sometimes he’ll tell her it needs more salt. She’ll thank him and give him a kiss on the cheek before continuing her work. 

What he will, and has, complained about however, is why in the Hells they’re hosting the Midwinter celebration at their house, and not only her entourage of tadpoled friends, but also people from the whole city. From what he’s heard, some are even bringing children into their house. Raphael shivers from the thought of tiny and sticky hands touching their things. At least most of them are staying at inns around town, their guest rooms will be occupied by the vampire spawn, the cleric and the druid. Why the druid can’t just turn into his bear form and sleep in the garden is beyond Raphael. 

Had someone told him years ago he’d end up living quietly and happily with the little mouse in a townhouse in the Gate, he’d have them flayed on the spot. Perhaps he’d even feed them their own skin. But since he was stripped off his Infernal heritage, those thoughts just don’t spark the same kind of joy anymore. 

Instead, he’s nibbling on cheese and crackers while enjoying a glass of red. Despite his earlier reluctance to the fundamental change in him, he’s quite content with the situation as a whole. 

Lost in his musings, he startles a bit when the little mouse lies down on the sofa with her head on his lap. He makes a mental note of being more aware of his surroundings, perhaps he’s growing a bit too comfortable. 

The little mouse’s got a notebook in hand, a list of preparation written in her swirly and slightly messy handwriting. 

“I’ve done all I can now,” she grumbles. Raphael puts down his wine glass and runs his fingers through the little mouse’s curls while she continues and ticks off things from her list. “The bread will rise during the night, and bake in the morning. Then there’s the salad and the potatoes. The ham needs glazing. And oh!” 

Just as quickly as she arrived, she scurries off into the pantry and rummages through it a moment before coming back with slumped shoulders and a defeated look on her face. 

“I forgot to get kale,” she sighs. 

Wrong, at the market today, Raphael bribed the merchant to “forget” to pack the kale while the little mouse was busy chatting with some acquaintance. He’d rather serve steamed lemure than that filthy excuse of a vegetable. Though the little mouse doesn’t need to know that. 

“My love, are you afraid your guests will starve?” he says and gestures to the abundance of dishes cooling on the dining table. 

“No, but,” she trails off and turns her attention to the window, chin resting in one of her hands as she contemplates. 

Raphael figures that this is the time for intervention, or the little mouse will run to every tavern across the city asking to purchase their kale. Or worse, she’ll ask him to come along. Which he would, since free will seems to have been obliterated when the request comes from her lips.

[rayshippouuchiha]

Your AUs follow this format:

Naruto: am I am here, queer, and wearing an orange kimono where I hide my sealing scrolls and knives.

Shikamaru: Naruto is the light to my darkness and if anyone (Sasuke) looks at him I will literally rip their arms off…away from Naruto of course cuz the blood would stain his clothes.

Sasuke: the only thing I’ve ever agreed with anyone on is that Naruto is the light of this world that I crave to go near. That being said, if these children don’t leave me alone I might just go to another light so I can finally fucking sleep.

Kakashi: I am so gay and depressed that my survivors guilt and stress has transcended the confines of time and turned all my ancestors hair grey before I was even born. I will only be happy when I an equally or even more powerful house husband.

Shikaku: alcohol is my one loyal friend and anyone who tries to give me more work can go deal with my son. No really, please go deal with him.

Tobirama: After decades of putting up with bullshit I finally got to fucking SLEEP but these incompetent bastards keep waking me up to deal with their bs. If I knew this is what my afterlife would be like I would have let Izuna kill me first. Actually, I would have spent my time making a time travel jutsu just so I could go back and stop myself before I made that infernal alarm clock for the dead jutsu.

Aizawa: I am either a long suffering father or the most possessive and insane romantic you will ever hear of. That being said, I am frustratingly good at both. No matter the au, I will be sticking tracking chips In midoriya but for some very different reasons.

Izuku: my hair is fluffy because it’s hiding my secrets and unparalleled danger. I both could/ would cut a bitch but I chose to give them emotional damage cuz it’ll hurt for longer :)

Hey, if it ain't broke don't fix it

[sharoscylla]

it's been over a year since BG3's full release so i'm gonna say it

i don't think myrkul actually did resurrect isobel thorm from the dead. based on her description of what happened - and the facts that in that same cemetery they made a point of having a tomb with someone wearing Boots of Feign Death + malus had that sharran paralysis amulet - I think she was put in a form of Feign Death either by an agent of Shar, Shar herself, or Malus as a way to prod ketheric into joining malus in shar worship. (also that shar specifically didn't let isobel die JUST to spite selune and melodia who would naturally be waiting for isobel in the afterlife) I think it's as simple as somebody realizing 120~ years later that she only SEEMS dead in there and lying their ass off to convince ketheric that they resurrected her instead of waking her up, with myrkul backing up the lie because honestly he doesn't have very many active worshippers at any given time, and none so powerful as ketheric is or was.

i also don't think isobel is ketheric's only child! dialogue + ingame journals make it pretty clear to me that gerringothe and thisobald are ketheric's chlidren, based on the fact that they're more elfish than isobel and ketheric I'm guessing those two maybe had a different mother than isobel, and ketheric was a shit dad but neither selunite or sharran even though his uncle malus was a sharran. Ketheric meets melodia, converts to selunite worship for her, eventually they have isobel and he's supposedly a pretty good dad to her, which, you know, probably raises the hackles on his adult children who had to live with a cruel and demanding father. thisobald had his own terrible shit he was up to prior to being trapped there forever in the shadowcurse, but other than being a bitchy embezzling boss gerringothe was just... trying to save up money to flee town and never come back, and the shadowcurse trapped her there before she could find the courage to actually make the leap.

speaking of which, the thorms are czarr-levels of incest coded. I know I've been saying I'll write the Thorms Were All Molested By Ketheric And Malus manifesto for a year now, but that will have to wait for when I'm slightly less busy. ... or, well, it'll feature in the Ripley Savage AU, but they're just now getting into the Underdark in that one, so, you know, it's a ways away.

This is not Gortash Apologia (...probably just a bit) but do you really expect me to believe Zariel went "Yeah sure, I'll take this 21 year old tiefling with no specific skillset that's exactly like a million other mortals, and not only will her soul not be in danger from this deal but I'll make sure she doesn't die of shit that would normally kill a person to death, just so i can spend a couple years grooming her into a super strong warrior that will do cool tricks for a few years before her inevitable mortal demise, at which point i still won't have possession of her soul so it'll be fucking off to the fugue plane at that point, here's A Big Pile Of Super Rare Infernal Metal I Invented During My Reign Over The Last 130-140 Years, I'll also let you study the blueprints of the guy who is designing her heart engine because that's definitely the kind of information I want floating around the Material Plane where anybody could get their hands on it/you".......... no man. I think Gortash paid/convinced Zariel to take Karlach and make her strong. Zariel probably did not want Raphael building himself a stronghold in what should have been her domain, so I can believe that they came to an agreement as a way of mutually spiting or undermining him, and I think - considering the steel watchers were just in the prototype stage when Florrick last was in Baldur's Gate within a tenday or two, i do not believe for a second gort just sat around on the materials and plans for a decade without *starting* the project - that he didn't actually get his hands on the plans or materials for the watchers until his durgeheist much much more recently, say 1-2 years ago at the most. "But karlach said Zariel said XYZ when-" zariel lied. why would the archdevil of avernus be the one telling the whole truth here. at that moment Gort was Karlach's Main Person (her parents dead, she flat out says she loved him and respected him and was happily building her life around being his trusted bodyguard) and Zariel needed to make sure Karlach would be easier to control re: depending utterly on Zariel to survive etc. once she had the engine installed it'd be even easier to control her - soul coins, keeping her in the middle of the blood war front lines instead of screwing around asking questions or making alliances - and of course, zariel couldn't have known that karlach was ultimately indomitable, even if it took a decade for her to slip her chains.

I know... I know, it was already the product of years of labor, and stuff like multiple act 3 storylines didn't end up getting the amount of attention they deserved... but i wish there was a magical item crafting system beyond "1 sussur weapon/eye of the absolute spear/mourning frost/exactly 2 grymforge items"+alchemy. We found all that mundane jewelry and all those gems and I don't care if it would have all been mid equipment, I want to have been able to make the campers all wear matching Rings Of +1 Besties. I also hunger greatly for "hey, if you're going to spend 30+ hours in Act Three anyway, and you have the money for it, why not just buy an apartment or house for you and the squad and decorate it as you see fit" + the fallout 4 style settlement creator post-game. Even if I couldn't get past the level 12 cap I'd still be out there hunting monsters to make my village safe + get supplies to make my village/house cool looking + attract stronger villagers. please let me create a city-state. i desire it so much.

[wizisbored]

i know ive mentioned before that ive been listening to pretty much only poor mans poision while thinking about infernal children but anyway c'mon down is the infernal children song btw

[anamelessfool]

WIP WHENEVER

Thank you @kissingghouls for the tag!!!! I tried to pick something a little unique for this challenge...

VISITATION (From 'Domestics')

(family, humor, self-indulgent fluff, Dad Secondo)

2013: Papa Emeritus Terzo, Copia, and Nihil visit their estranged brother Secondo after the birth of his youngest child.

I have this whole ficlet series similar to Bestiary but based on small domestic moments in the lives of the brothers and the characters in my AU. Why? Because it's fun and ridiculously self-indulgent.

I love me a good flashback....

⛧⛧⛧

“Which way am I turning here?” Copia asked.

“Left,” muttered Terzo.

“Left...”

“Right.”

“Oh, Right then?”

“Yes, left is right!” Terzo paused then groaned. “Left is correct.”

“Marian couldn't come?” Terzo asked Copia idly. He smirked. “Hope your leash is long enough.”

Copia frowned. “At some point I wil fly out of this car, yes, jerked back by the leash, your Unholiness,” he replied flatly. “But ah… I'm into that.” Two hours in the car with Terzo gave one plenty of time to practice talking trash. “We should have arrived twenty minutes ago.”

Terzo shifted in the passenger seat. Car rides made him sick, and therefore extra irritable. He glanced in the rearview mirror at Nihil in the back. Nihil was staring ahead, expressionless, his eyes dull like a mesmerized cow. “We would have made time if we didn't stop back there.”

“Terzo, the old man barely asks for anything these days,” Copia said firmly. “So when he asked to stop and buy a balloon for his new grandson I um…had to indulge him.”

“Isn't this thing just brand new? A little ball that sleeps and cries? Why—why does it need a fucking balloon?”

“That thing… is your nephew,” Copia said, and he squeezed the steering wheel. “Have you ever taken care of anything small and helpless like that? You'd understand.”

Terzo muttered something in Italian and dropped his head against the door, staring out the window. Copia assumed if he wasn't so carsick he would really put on a pissy show for them all.

“We’re nearly there,” Copia said, slowing to an agonizing stop at the intersection, looking carefully right and left, waiting the appropriate three seconds at the stop sign, and then continuing on.

[They pull up to a plain suburban house.]

The door opened, Secundo towered over them all, his dark intense presence unmarred by his years away. The former Papa Emeritus II of the Satanic Church of the Void was now wearing a checkered button-down shirt and dark khakis. His grip on his cane tightened as his shark-like gaze flicked from guest to guest. Four Infernal Eyes regarded each other on the porch. Secundo's pitted face moved slightly. “Shoes. Off.” He shifted back, granting them entry.

They were led inside to a sunken foyer. Beyond a small railing was an ordinary living room with a beige carpet. There were halls nearby leading to kitchen, basement and bedrooms. All with as few stairs as possible made it easier for Secundo to easily walk around in his current state. His time as Channel of the Void left him permanently weak in his left side, but they all knew it could have been much worse.

Copia was struck by how unbelievably ordinary the place was. There was an unusual number of crammed bookshelves and a piano near the window, but other than that there was very little evidence of this being the home of a former leader of The Satanic Church of the Void. A single taxidermied goat head loomed over the television that displayed a muted cartoon program. Two small children sat near it in the center of a pile of wooden blocks.

Copia pulled his own shoes off, then knelt to help Nihil out of his. “It's nice to see you again, Secundo.”

Secundo never dropped his intensity and simply changed the words he spoke. “Yes, it is, Copia. Welcome.”

“Is that…is that little Paul?!” Copia nearly squealed as he pointed towards the little face peering from between the metal railings. The boy Paul had a shock of messy dark hair and a wild look that was all too familiar. “He's a small version of Terzo! Look!”

“That had been my unfortunate impression as well,” Secundo replied flatly.

Terzo gave them all a painfully polite smile, then joked. “Not to worry, I had nothing to do with it.”

Nihil’s head whipped from Paul to Terzo. “Yes, definitely our little scamp! An even smaller Terzo, heh!” Both grandson and son threw him identical scowls.

“Do you remember us?” Copia asked Paul. The boy cocked his head, thinking. He was born at the Ministry but the whole family left by the time he was five. “I remember we took out my old trike and you were pedaling up and down the hallways…”

“I distinctly remember you pedaling up and down the hallways on his tricycle,” Secundo said with an amused smirk.

“Just that once! To teach him!” Copia shot back.

[They settle into the collection of couches and proceed to observe the newborn.]

“Nihil, would you—” Sandra frowned. The old man had fallen asleep in the recliner within the past five minutes. She chuckled. “Well then, we will try later! How about you, Terzo?”

Terzo furrowed his brow. “No, certainly not. No thank you, sorella.”

Secundo looked quietly invested from his place on the opposite couch. “He'll reconsider later.”

My AO3 Series | My FicList

Tagging @katyaoaksdottir @fishwithtitz and @thew0man and you, yes YOU!

[ivyprism]

Underverse Opening Brain Creator Thoughts

Warning: Blood, death, devastation, violence, lots of it, not great written fight scenes, creator rambles.

"In the face of tension, pain and devastation... The connection that's between our hearts..." Cue the showcase of many skeleton boys as well as their respective sonas. "Is reaching through the time!" It then cuts to Ivy startling and then looking over as her eyes widen in horror as it cuts to the title card. "Through the time!" It showcases someone smirking at her as others surround them.

Then, as it continues, it shows a fight between Dusk and Bliss before it cuts to another fight. The fighting continues as someone seems to interrupt it and the twins look over in horror.

It shows a variety of scenes after:

It then shows Marguerite tensing and looking over.

Willow fixed her scarf and looked away.

Primrose holding a piece of fabric before she looks up.

It shows Nerium moving her hand from her cheek to under her chin.

Then it shows Flori pulling her hair free of a ponytail.

It shows Marigold dancing happily as she pauses to glance over and Primula stops dancing as water that was floating falls around her.

Azalea rests her hand on her chest as she startles and looks around.

It shows Hollyhock biting her lip as she then reaches out towards something glowing.

It shows Ivy gripping her necklace as her magic glows and then she closes her eyes as the camera pans.

"You, so tired and cold stand here, between the worlds..." It shows Tusche and Lenovo waking up with their brothers confused as children. They have some people reaching for them. "Each of them you saw get broken to the core..." It then shows the dust of the people and then their conflict as it grew. "Dark is creeping closer..." It shows someone writing and then smirking as a creature comes to life. "Spark in your heart's frozen..." It shows a ghost skeleton monster glance over, her eyes glowing before she turns to mist. The camera pans... "There's nothing left anymore." It shows an angel skeleton monster yelling and reaching before the AU falls apart around them.

"When a dream turns into a nightmare!" It shows Dusk and Bliss facing off but then time cuts to them as Myrsky soothes Bliss and Archemoros fights Dusk in a looming large form. "Truth is right there!" It shows Archemoros besting Dusk, but then it cuts... "Gotta stay determined! (Listen to your heart and let it be your guiding star!)" Ivy is stranded in the anti-void as mechanical creatures surround her and she stays frozen. Her eyes widen in horror as an attack, but before it hits a skeleton with a mask scoops her up.

"Fight to push back the night!" It shows Acrylic using paints as Virus uses his strings. Comet and Umbra tag team as the creatures attack with beams and a figure looms above them. "No matter the pain and this plain devastation!" It shows Dusk and Bliss working together as Tusche and Lenovo work to push back the creatures. Cecilia and Poison help fight back as well. "For all the creations' sake -" It shows the masked skeleton avoiding attacks and weaving through as the princess carries Ivy. "Do not be afraid!" Ivy blinks in surprise.

"Together, we'll save everything-!" It shows Marguerite and Willow back to back as Marguerite grows confident and Willow seems angry. Nerium guards Flori as Primula and Marigold dance circles around the enemies. Azalea is healing while clasping her hands together and looking up. Primrose is helping heal with Azalea. "and make a new alternation!" It then cuts to Hollyhock, barely holding on, bleeding as she reaches for the "Break the Barrier button" and she hits it as she falls.

Time resets... And Ivy wakes up.

"Has this all been planned by one infernal hand?" It shows the enemy talking to someone as he finishes his next bot. "Made to play their role, the universes fall..." It shows Senna sitting in the void as she writes something down. She clenches her teeth as flowers bloom on her neck. "Lies are spreading fast, and lives get turned to dust..." It shows Senna lowering her pen as she sees the constant fighting of the Outcode group and looks displeased. "Is this deserved by them all?"

"Gotta step in, stop the daydream." Senna looks even more displeased as the fighting grows worse. She looks at her hands, she has to do something. "Your hearts filling with determination!" She wants them to survive this time. She wants everyone to survive.... She'll deal with this. "(Cannot pick the bridge when it's already time to cross!)" She steps forward a lightning strike forms as she raises her hand.

"Fight to bring back the light!" It shows the Outcode fighting before Senna decides to finally intervene. She moves forward as she their attacks deflect off her and her mask holds strong. "There won't be a sign of divine intervention!" It then cuts to a nasty fight between the enemy and the group, but now they're in unison.

"To save this dimension -!" It shows Captain and Cardinal tag teaming enemies together. Brass and Jet smoothly avoid fighting as they take out enemies together. Clove is protecting Hydra as Cinnamon heals Hydrangea and Harper. Glamour and Caramel are caring the back as the Dance boys dance around their enemies. Vanilla is carrying his brother as he shows off, but then it shows.... "Go, let's rise from below!" It shows Navy and Ebony joining the fray as they attack. It shows Sentinel and the other Angels not backing off as they're backed by the demons. "We have to take it all in our hands and show our true determination!" It shows the skeletons all joined together, but as Ivy ran, she fell into a crack and the skeleton who grabbed her reached for her. He falls after her.

It shows the two free-falling as Ivy seems to recall something.

"In the face of tension, pain and devastation... The connection that's between our hearts..." It shows Ivy sitting in a group of blurry and distorted groups as she stands by a familiar masked skeleton.

"Ivy!" The voice of the skeleton breaks her out as he reaches for her father.

"Is reaching through the time!" Ivy's eyes are blurred as she remembers her friends, the war, the death... All the death... "What's this feeling in my heart?" Ivy slowly reaches back as her eyes slowly unblur and she recalls who's reaching for her. "We're connected, though apart..." She can see her soul as his reaches for her.

"In the face of tension, pain, and devastation..." Ivy opens her mouth, willing it to work. She recalls everything as her soul glows more and her magic engulfs his. "Now I know I am filled with determination!"

"Honeycomb!" Her voice finally worked as he grabbed her hand and they're back in the fray.

"Live! You gotta believe!" As Ivy comes to, Honeycomb is holding her as Aquamarine joins the fray with Rain and Heath. They're fighting together as a trio. "Whoever you are, feel your star shining brighter!" It shows Undyne fighting as Asgore and Toriel protect the kids. Athena and Beryl were tag teaming together. The group fights as one as Tara and Theodoric help heal. "To bring back the light of day!" Oriel runs in and throws her spear through a great number of machines. Della is helping as best she can as the fight continues. "We cannot delay!"

"It is all or nothing, my friend..." Ivy pulls away from Honeycomb as she gets up. She helps the other sonas stand up as her body glows in her mafic. "So, right to the end, together we'll stand and-!" Marguerite guards Ivy on both sides as Willow helps guard the back. They nod at her.

"Fight to push back the night!" It cuts to Floryn closing her book and then her hands glow as Ivy pushes through the group as she dodges attacks. She is running now as her fellow sonas fight and fall. "No matter the pain and this plain devastation!" Willow fights hard and never backs down, Marguerite fights and doesn't hold back, and Nerium guards Flori as Primula and Marigold dance circles around the enemies, but even they fall. Azalea is guarding them with her magic as Hollyhock supplies more magic. Primrose helps supply the magic before Ivy runs.

"For all the creations' sake -!" Acrylic and his brother are fighting, but they're getting outnumbered. Cecilia is holding her hands together as Senna helps guard Ivy from a distance. Ivy winces and holds her bleeding side as she runs.

"Do not be afraid." A voice pushes Ivy harder. She listens to the voice as she runs and bleeds. She reaches for the button, the button to save the group again.

"Together, we'll save everything and make a new alternation!" Ivy hits the button as she smiles at Honeycomb one last time before...

She wakes up.

-------

Song: https://youtu.be/75J3Mx4FP5A?si=JJc2h4IvRniaANIp

[zombie-and-puppet-child]

I just thought, would Charlie feel bad for the Daycare Attendant? In general terms, he experiences a big forced behavioral change based on sensory input, and that's kinda what happened with her and the music box. Sun clearly is afraid of the lights going out, and I can't imagine Charlie looked forward to hearing that infernal melody all night every night.

(I swear, I'm not one of those people who obsesses over the daycare attendant, I just thought it was an interesting parallel, and Charlie is my favorite character.)

Oooohoohoohoo!

You my friend have touched upon ideas that have been wiggling ‘round my brain for a WHILE

Cuz you see, in my AU that parallel has a second layer to it

In my my version of events, the song played by the music box was actually one Henry played for Charlotte to help her get to sleep and was later implemented into the Security Puppet in her honor

Unfortunately for Charlie, this means a song that once brought her comfort now serves to hinder and imprison her more that she already is

In a similar way, before Glitchtrap’s influence, Sun had no problems with the lights going out. Not only did he get to take a break from the chaos, but he could feel the joy his counterpart had for taking care of the children

It’s only when Moon becomes more irritable, unpredictable, dangerous that Sun begins to fear Lights Out.

Something that once brought comfort, now bringing an overwhelming feeling of helplessness, that’s something Charlie understands very well

She also understands how it feels to lose control and hurt someone who didn’t deserve it

And so, if the Daycare Attendants find little gifts left around their area, it’s between them and their new, unseen friend

[quitealotofsodapop]

LMK Queen Mother of the West theory/au:

OK this is an idea I just had, reading over aus/theories that Princess Iron Fan is one of the Jade Emperor's daughters. We haven't seen the Queen Mother of the West in LMK just yet, so this idea might end up outdated by the time of S5.

According to a lot of Chinese mythos, The QMotW/Wangmu Niangniang/Xiwangmu was once revered as a Goddess of Destruction and Death before she was viewed as a Mother Goddess. She is almost always associated with her beloved peach orchards and the Big Dipper constellation. She is commonly depicted as a massive celestial tiger and/or a woman with tiger and panther body parts (Jade Emperor done pulled himself a catgirl /jk) who girlbosses her way through court and if people don't follow her advice they end up dead. So what if when Red Son and Mei snuck into the Peach Orchard to get the peach for the antidote, they were caught by an unfamilar face?

A woman. Far larger and more regal than either of them have ever seen. Her skin is a deep orchre, marked with pale stripes like a tiger. Her robes are a mix of peach tones. Her firey red-orange hair streaked with the silver of age. Her eyes are weakened but burn red like hot coals.

Red Son & Mei: *both freeze in terror* Imperial Woman: "I know that you're here for a peach." Red Son & Mei: "Pssh! No!" "No peach thiefery here!" Imperial Woman: *laughs and shushes softly* *With a single stretch of her arm, she reaches farther than Red Son has climbed, plucking a single peach from a branch.* Imperial Woman: "There. You should try some. They're very good this year. Though I would prefer if your friends came and asked me directly next time." Red Son, shakily taking the peach. He feels like he should recognise this woman: "Th-thanks..." Mei: "Whoa! We could have just asked!? It's that easy?" Imperial Woman: "Of course dear. I wouldn't let one of my subject go hungry." *background chaos of the others getting the pills and furnace* Mei, hoists Red Son on her back like in the episode: "Sorry for rushing ma'am! But we're in the middle of something! Thank you so much for the Peach!!! I love your hair by the way!! Bye!!"

The Imperial Woman just smiles as they flee the garden. A swarm of palace guards and orchard maidens come rushing to the scene. With a single raise of her hand, the Imperial Woman calls off the guards.

The QMotW: "Don't worry. They're just children playing a game. After all, it's been a long time for me not to have met my own Grandson." *Reminded of her own infernal past she laughes, a tiny flame flickering in her palm* The QMotW: "He takes far more after me than he realises."

[maegalkarven]

Family matters AU. Levi and Noah's meeting throught Levi's POV.

Levi knew it long before he asked. Long before he opened his mouth at all, actually.

It is universally acknowledged truth amidst the druids what everyone moving on two feet is a dirty liar.

This societal conviction grows out of another known to the druids fact; emotions have smells.

Emotion is a chemical reaction of a body to some outside stimulus, and, as any chemical reaction, it provides an echo. A mix of hormones getting into the blood, extra sweating or unusual heart hate, the rise of the body heat or the sudden drop of it.

Emotions control such reactions and thus provide the outlet for the body to process it.

Thus the smell changes.

It almost never fully aligns with the way two feet walker presents themselves, does not back up the words spoken aloud.

They all are liars: humans, elves, dwarves and halflings, mixed breeds of all kinds, children touched by Hells.

Everyone lies; their smell does not.

So, naturally, as a talented druid of his own, Leviathan Anchev always relies on the smells first, they have never let him astray before.

Not what he can remember.

So this is what catches his attention when it's more wise to pay it to a fight.

The smell.

The ghostly-light wiff of another living being in the building.

A child. A particularly strange smelling child.

This is what leads him to abandon the fight at all, rather recklessly even, and follow the scent to a small alcove with steep stairs leading up.

This is what makes him climb the steps, effortlessly discard of several alerted by his presence guards and stop in front of a locked door.

This is what makes him blast the darned lock to ashes, turn on the knob and step inside.

The smell.

The intricate mix of personal odor of two people combined.

It is another universally aknowledged by druids truth what children often smell as a combination of their parent's scents. It stirs from the primeval biology and the way the child is inevitably a product of two genomes interwoven, combined to a new, previously unexistent mix.

One is his.

Another belongs to Gortash.

It is also a thing what helps animals track their cubs, no matter how far they've gone.

Levi is very much that animal now.

And he knows; he knows even before he sees the boy with the dark hair and Gortash's face, sans the crooked nose and dark shadows under his eyes. He knows before infernally bright green eyes peer at him curiously, his own gaze reflected back at him.

He knows before the child stumbles from the sofa he was sitting on, transfixed by some odd board game.

He knows and something deep inside him aches and burns and twists.

His. This little boy with faint freckles scattered across cheeks is his.

But two-legged creatures are liars, and Levi is currently one, so naturally, he is too.

And he lies. To the boy he just met yet loves more than is reasonable, to himself, a man not allowed such affections, to the whole situation itself. He lies and pretends he Does Not Get it.

He lies and intruduces himself, he lies and chats the boy up as his father climbs the stairs, no doubt brought up by some kind of alarm system.

He lies even as Enver Gortash's body betrays him, his own scent betrays him, letting Levi know not only of the man's presence, but the sudden, wild and uncontrollable gush of affection.

The boy is the source of it. No, the boy and him, interacting with each other.

Just what kind of a tragedy Levi managed to leave behind?

But he keeps the rouse, asks the questions, and finds more than he had any right to know.

His voice trembles and his hands tremble and finally he snaps, because he is not a wild animal and he needs to hear the confirmation spoken aloud.

It is spoken aloud, with the smile so false it reeks of its owner being wary, ready to open fire at the mere hint of his cub being in danger.

That revelation is worse than knowing he and Gortash were involved. That revelation lets him know the child is loved and, if the total lack of fear from the boy is of any indication, is treated fairly.

That's a low blow.

His voice trembles as he tries to calm the child - his child - down as the boy - Noah, Noah - sobs, hands wrapped around Levi's neck in a strongest hold they can muster.

He can smell a fury of conflicted emotions tearing at his companions, and cares not. Not even for Astarion's, who seems to be affected even more than Karlach.

Instead he concentrates on the intoxicating scent of him and Gortash intertwining, joining in this child, the product of their creation.

Their child.

He kisses Noah's forehead and tastes the expensive soap what was used, he buries his nose in his hair and it smells of herbs. He closes his eyes and melts away, merging together with a creature what was once inside his body, whom he had grown, muscle and bones and sinew, from his very own flesh.

Flesh of his flesh, blood of his blood.

His son.

[journey-to-the-attic]

3rd anni req 8: [INFERNAL FRIENDS] diavolo, barbatos / bullies

ao3 link

note: the au name looks oddly ominous when it's formatted like that... anyway, not much for me to add - infernal friends is one of my favourite aus, so enjoy!

∎ ∎ ∎ ∎ ∎

Diavolo has been suspicious for a few weeks now. At first, he’d put it down to humans simply growing too fast for someone his age to keep up with, but he’s very sure now - something is wrong with his little friend.

It’s not that he insists on showing up on a regular basis, but IK’s already made a routine of summoning him at least once a week. When he realises that it’s been almost three since he last felt the call, his first thought is one of mild dismay, but also resignation.

Then he stops to think about it, and, no - humans don’t suddenly go from dependent little children to full-fledged adults with no need for demon companions in that short a time. And perhaps he’s self-inflating his own importance, but Diavolo has always rather felt that IK likes him best out of her demon friends. It feels strange to have had such radio silence for this long.

So, when he finally does feel that tug, he wastes no time in heading straight there. The council meeting will simply have to adjourn without him; the brothers will understand.

He realises he’s miscalculated a little when Barbatos follows straight behind him. Perhaps leaving his duties at the drop of a hat was not a wise decision to make in front of him. His butler doesn’t have time to scold him, though - before either of them even have the time to get their bearings back, something small collides straight into Diavolo’s legs.

“Aha! There you are!” He folds his wings back and scoops the little human up. “It’s been— ah? What happened?”

IK stares solemnly back at him and doesn’t say a word. Barbatos crouches down, then clears his throat delicately and gestures to something on the floor.

A pair of scissors, and a clump of hair. That would certainly explain things.

“You cut your hair?” He asks IK, who nods silently. “Why did you do that?”

She shakes her head and buries her face in the fur around his shoulders. Barbatos surveys the scene - the book bag haphazardly tossed to the wall, and one shoe kicked off - then wordlessly begins to clean up.

Diavolo sits down and attempts to coax an explanation. It’s not particularly unusual for IK to go quiet like this, but the circumstances are certainly cause for concern - though exactly how much, he doesn’t know. The persuading doesn’t work; IK just stares.

Eventually, he gives up, and resorts to play instead. Once she’s ascertained that he’s stopped interrogating her, IK seems quite happy to solve a puzzle with him, and if it weren’t for how visible the damage to her hair is, Diavolo could have quite easily forgotten the whole situation.

Barbatos seems to have other plans. First, he avails himself of the kitchen and brings in a little plate of chopped apples. Then he waits for IK eat a few, and sets about a round of gentle (but determined) questioning.

Diavolo’s not sure whether to tell him to stop. IK won’t give any verbal responses, but Barbatos seems able to put together something from all the nods and head-shakes.

Even his patience isn’t endless, though. Eventually he sighs, and asks if IK would prefer they talk to her father about it.

The look of distress on her face is so abject that he immediately drops the idea again. And that's the end of that.

Diavolo is still thinking about it all when they have to return to the Devildom. Evidently Barbatos is, too, because he starts following along every time he gets wind of someone else being summoned - not minding, apparently, the evident dismay on IK’s face when she realises he’s here again.

“It is necessary to gauge the extent of the problem,” He tells Diavolo when he asks him about this. “I can live with her annoyance now, but I cannot possibly stand by if she is unhappy.”

At this, Diavolo vows to help. Barbatos clears his throat and tells him that will not be necessary - it’d be best for all of them if the prince, at least, was to remain in IK’s good graces.

And his sleuthing seems to pay off. One evening, he sits Diavolo down with some tea, and explains what he believes to be the situation.

There is a group of children at school who have not been treating her well lately. Barbatos has been able to gauge at least three of their names, though not due to any special detective work on his part - they’re written on the exercise books that IK has stolen.

Now, IK understands perfectly well that it is bad behaviour to take other children’s property. Diavolo knows because she's gotten in trouble for calling another sticky-fingered child several rude words (that he’s fairly sure Mammon taught her). What this means, then, is that IK has decided these children don’t deserve that decency.

Lessons about the morality of thievery notwithstanding, Barbatos goes further. From what he has been able to piece together, this group of children likes rough-housing, and one of them (whose name Barbatos recognised from the exercise book that IK has treated most poorly) has a nasty habit of pinching and hitting to get something they want.

Then comes the last piece of the puzzle. One sentence, spoken on the brink of a nap: “She pulled my hair, so I cut it off.”

Barbatos had attempted to press further. This has won him exactly one more sentence in clarification: “Her hands were dirty.”

Which is where that leaves him now. Diavolo mulls it all over for a while, then declares, “We have to do something about this.”

He debates speaking to IK’s father about this, then remembers how upset she’d gotten at the notion when it was first suggested. How has she managed to hide it from him so far, though...?

There’s not much they can do in-person. There’d be mass panic if they showed up in all their demonic glory in the middle of a school-children’s playground, and they’d probably still be detained in some capacity even if they showed up in disguise as regular men. Then again, there are other options for cover.

And so that leads them here: two pigeons, perfectly ordinary apart from the colour of their eyes, sitting on a telephone line, and watching the playground intently.

A magpie is staring at them rather suspiciously from a roof across the street. Diavolo wants to ask Barbatos if it could blow their cover, but they don’t actually have any way of communicating in these forms, so all he can do is attempt to look as innocent and gullible as possible.

Then they spot it - IK clutching a tennis racquet, and another child attempting to wrestle it out of her hands.

Barbatos’s head snaps forward. Diavolo tears his eyes away from the magpie and copies him.

The child says something and stamps her foot. IK mumbles something, eyes glancing everywhere but at her opponent, then shrinks back as another child - this one a burlier-looking boy - starts stomping towards her.

The racquet snatcher reaches forward. She only has time to grab a fistful of IK’s cardigan before two pigeons promptly divebomb her.

No beaks, of course, and no claws - just a lot of wing-flapping. Enough to scare away assailants without touching them, and it works like a charm. The racquet snatcher leaps back with a squeal, and promptly runs off.

IK, to her credit, takes this in her stride. The burly boy attempts to stand his ground at first, staring warily as the two pigeons land in front of him and slowly stalk closer.

Then IK points her racquet at him and declares with adorable fury, “I’m the PIGEON KING. Leave me alone or I’ll KILL you.”

Diavolo, normally, would gently reprimand her for that sort of threat, but this is a special occasion (plus, he doesn't have his usual vocal cords). So he opens his beak and pretends to peck at the boy’s shoes instead.

It works. He turns tail and runs, too.

Barbatos preens his wings in satisfaction. IK stands there for a moment, then beams to herself and performs a little celebratory hop.

It would be most wise for the pigeons to leave as soon as possible, to avoid drawing suspicion. Diavolo, however, is decidedly unwise when it comes to catering to a child’s whimsy, so instead he struts right up and stares at IK with beady little eyes.

“Hello,” She says, as if it is the most natural thing in the world, and crouches down. Diavolo lets her run a finger over his grey-feathered head, and the delight on her face is worth all the flash-studying it took to learn the transformation spell on such short notice.

Barbatos - who has the talent of looking distinctly disapproving, even as a pigeon - makes a sharp cooing sound, as if to tell him off. IK glances at him, then stretches out her hand.

He looks hard at it. He, too, is powerless in the face of this earnestness. Begrudgingly, he perches on her little wrist.

“I am the pigeon emperor,” IK mumbles in awe.

Barbatos coos again, softer. It is very unfair that he bends so easily now, in places where Diavolo is sure he would have been scolded as a young demon, but it’s hard to be annoyed.

He wonders what IK will tell him about the pigeons next time she summons her best demon friend. He can’t wait to hear it.