The Devil Never Slumbers
I rub at my eyes tiredly as my ship lands inconspicuously near the Necralisk. It’s…so quiet. Quiet as I slink unnoticed through the halls, past the slumbering Entrati. Quiet as I slip into the tunnels that lead to the Sanctum, tunnels walked by many, but nearly deserted now. My footsteps tread lightly on the gilded floor, careful not to wake the fish, who’s mumbling haughtily in his sleep. Nor do I disturb the massive bird, nestled comfortably in his golden cage, nor the Cervulite, curled up near the entrance to the labs, though the tip of his tail twitches slightly before moving to rest atop his muzzle. No, none of them notice my presence. None, except the faithful assistant. We share a glance, exchanging words with merely a look. The exhaustion in his eyes is the very same as that which wraps itself around my bones, the very same heaviness that weighs me down but doesn’t allow me to rest. His gaze shifts to an empty space at his workbench. An invitation. One that I don’t take. Perhaps he and I could bask in our misery together. Perhaps I could even fall asleep if I simply focus on his methodical progress, the ambient scratching of pencil to paper. But, that’s not why I’m here.
And he knows it.
We reach a silent understanding, realization flashing in his weary eyes. One corner of my mouth turns upward in a soft half-smile, and he returns the look, adjusting the edge of his glasses as he does so. I continue my path, feeling the soft sands of the dunes beneath my feet. There’s no need for a Warframe out here. I hadn’t wanted to bring one anyways. I take a deep breath, my lungs filling with the still air, my senses taking in the subtle stimuli, those which I would’ve missed if I were inside that metallic suit. My ears take in the soft singing that I knew I’d hear eventually. As the dunes give way to stone, as the edge of the cliff becomes visible through the fog of the Void, I see her. I don’t say anything to disturb her vigil. I simply lower myself to the rocky ground, a few feet behind her, but enough to the side that I can see what she sees. I can see the Void, the broken, floating pieces of rubble, the glowing, gaping maw that seems poised to devour us all. She knows I’m here, even before she shifts her head slightly—likely the smallest amount she can turn in order to see me—, but her singing doesn’t falter. It can’t, I know that now. Rather, it mustn’t.
We don’t speak, but I feel an understanding lingering in the air. One beyond words, one that has stood the test of time, of loyalties, of love. A test that has led us here, to the cliff. To the emptiness that stretches beyond its rocky edges. In the past, we had many titles. The future will bring many more. But for now, right here, we’re simply Mother and Daughter. She isn’t the Sentient, the Daughter, the Leader. I’m not the Tenno, the Soldier, the Devil. Not here. Not now. We’re simply two beings, not linked by blood but family nonetheless, solemnly staring across the Void. I allow myself to listen to her song. It’s different now…but no less comforting. The lullaby once used to comfort her children, now being used to tether herself to the present. The weight of my exhaustion gnaws at me, but my eyes don’t drift shut. My gaze remains fixed, staring straight ahead.
I don’t know how long I stay there, though eventually more Tenno begin to filter in, sitting quietly near us. Some stay for only a moment or two. Others remain longer. I find myself almost fascinated by them. As different as we all might be, as unruly, or hotheaded, or impulsive, most of us have one thing in common. Sometimes, we just want our Mother. When the world seems strange—too strange, even for us—, she’s who we turn to. She might be different now—she’s clearly distracted, and more than a little uncomfortable—, but she’s determined. She’s a calming presence, even when her own mind is likely less than serene.
Maybe that’s why I’m here. Maybe that’s why, after tossing and turning and trying and failing to rest, my weary hands keyed in coordinates that I barely read before the Orbiter began its course. Maybe, even if I can’t sleep right now, I can still rest. I can still let my thoughts still as I stare out into the empty fog, listening to her unending song. Tomorrow, I can be the Soldier once more. Tomorrow, I can be the System’s ‘Devil’. But tonight? Tonight, I just want to be a daughter. I want to spend time with her—even if it’s only a moment—, time that’s unimpeded by thoughts of the conflict that looms over us. I just…don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to hear It laughing, amused by the torment It causes.
I take a quiet breath, and my eyelids fall shut. I can still hear the others, though their voices seem like mere background noise. I focus on the song, allowing myself to relax into this odd half-asleep state. Eventually, though it seems far too soon, I open my eyes once more. I slowly rise to my feet, a silent farewell crossing through my mind. I’ll be back. She knows, I’m sure. At least…I hope so. My limbs feel only slightly lighter as I make my way across the dunes. Even still, they should be light enough that I can fight once more.
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I’d love to hear your thoughts on what Eldritch peredhel entail
-@@outofangband
Sorry this took so long @outofangband and thank you for asking this I am! Delighted! And am preemptively putting a read more down because I cannot shut up about they <3
alright I'm just gonna put stuff and headcanons down as they occur to me so expect low-moderate levels of coherency
shapeshifting is an obvious one (gets weaker down the generations) but because my brain is Like This I have caveats!
thanks to my whole peredhil things=gender allegory that my brain spit out without my permission I've long struggled against my inherent feeling that while they can shapeshift they don't like it
but because I'm now aware of my brain's reasoning I can say it's because of ✨fantasy dysphoria✨
that's oversimplifying, obviously, but peredhil already have so much issues with working through who and what they are and compromising between body and mind and spirit that actively choosing to change into/present as something/someone who They Are Not is. Not usually their cup of tea.
As a whole they tend to have specific forms that they prefer as being closer to themselves, and distinct enough that it doesn't feel like they're faking something they're not
(changing to look like a different person, or a edited version of themself is Very Very not fun unless either explicitly for disguise or shenanigans)
(the exception to this is that Luthien can make herself look almost perfectly human without any real issue. she doesn't do it often but especially as she ages she likes to catch glimpses of her reflection and get both excited and sappy. this is in contrast to making herself look almost perfectly like an elf which makes her feel like her skin is on fire.)
(Also I'm pretty sure all of them can flip their agab presentation while only feeling varying degrees of off, and even then it's a different feeling than the shapeshifting dysphoria. Dior and Elwing are the two who I think mind it the most)
They all have the (agonizing to write) trait of feeling very distinct relationships to their species in their body vs soul/mind vs spirit/fea and they all feel it very differently! This isn't exclusive to Luthien's line but the maia blood does make it worse.
Oh! This is a new headcanon of mine actually but!
They all have faces that are very very hard to capture in image. They are the bane of portrait artists (and, to a degree, sculptors) everywhere because the art never looks accurate to life
It's not blatantly off it's just. missing something? Or something was added? maybe it's a little too wide, or narrow, or long, or short, in one place or another
It's not unrecognizable but if you've ever seen the subject in real life you can just tell
It's especially bad with Luthien (and Daeron) and Dior (to a lesser extent) because everyone literally sees them differently, as in their features will be slightly different depending on what each person finds attractive/aesthetically appealing and beautiful
(not a lot, again, it's not unrecognizable, but there has never and will never be any accurate depiction of Luthien as she was as a person)
(as a concept, though, as the most beautiful creature to have ever existed in Arda, a little of her image exists in every portrait lovingly made of a beloved spouse, every child's drawing of their family, in biological sketches of songbirds and field mice, in a sculpture of a stranger's face. Daeron remembers his sister perfectly, but he collects these regardless)
(Arwen, Luthien come again, isn't described as such by her grandparents. Galadriel and Celeborn both knew Luthien, and while Arwen and her father both look as closely to her as genetically possible, to those who actually know them both it's nothing more than uncanny family resemblance. Luthien was to most a concept personified, Arwen is a person with concepts imposed on her.)
The list of people who have seen Luthien how she actually, physically, defaultly is, essentially consists of Melian, Daeron, Beren, and Dior
Beren doesn't see her as she is right away because he doesn't know her right away, but they learn about each other and she shows herself and he sees her and by the time she rescues him from Tol-im-Gaurhoth there are no echoes on her face
(He's always a little bit haunted that he nearly died without realizing he'd never quite seen the truth of her before)
Neither Thingol or Beren can quite see their own features on their children's faces. They clearly take after their mothers, after all!
(This leads to much affectionate eye-rolling on Melian and Luthien's part)
Hair stuff!
It's alive! kinda! it's definitely not normal hair!
It moves a lot on its own. Sometimes like a breeze is blowing where there isn't one. Sometimes more like tentacles. It depends on its mood.
They've got some very pretty traditional cosmic horror vibes swirling around on their heads. It's very sparkly and colorful but in a Forbidden Shrimp Colors that your brain is unable to comprehend way so it reads as iridescent black mostly, or holographic white, where applicable
Luthien's hair actually is a glimpse into space, Daeron's is a glance at a star
(Luthien's magic hair cloak survives, I think, into the 4th age and beyond, though if anyone/anything has found it they certainly don't know the origins of the beautifully intricate living star map. It has seen the reign of countless north stars, yet the lines always point to the same coordinates- where the ancient, sunken, ruined remains of what once was Tol-im-Gaurhoth lay)
Speed round!
Fangs and talons and horns oh my! Are they tooth and keratin and bone, or are they petrified wood and gem and stone? Yes!
They all smell a little like ozone and a lot like petrichor, flowers, and Green. If you've smelled green you know what I'm talking about. Also, unfortunately, like bird. Birds don't smell great, especially wet bird.
Weird Foresight Powers++
(Most of them don't have actual foresight, but all of them are more in-tune with the Song than is natural for an incarnate)
Their eyes glow, most notably in the dark, unless the irises turn black as they sometimes do. They are also all unnaturally bright versions of the less-spooky parent's- Dior's are gold, Elwing's are blue-green like a tropical sea (Elured and Elurin split the color between them- ultramarine and emerald), Elrond and Elros have pale star-gold, Elladan, Elrohir, and Arwen all have silver.
(Daeron and Luthien being the exception again, because I decided they have Melian's eyes before I decided this, and I don't know what color eyes Thingol has. Watsonianly: Melian's spooky genes overwrite a lot. Luthien's genotype is probably much closer to his than her magically overwritten phenotype)
Their sclerae turn black and their pupils white, on occasion, usually when using powers
They don't bleed right. It's a little too red for an elf, a little too light for a human, and it shines strange as it beads like quicksilver on the skin
They have very shiny, cool skin. Luthien looked like her's was silver plate under a stretched stocking, the rest toned it down from there but it's still noticeable.
The Song is. Attached to them. They are all very much Main Characters. Their lives have a clear story arc with symbolism and narrative parallels. They are all subconsciously aware that their lives are a fairytale, whether tragic or no, and yes this has many Implications and affects. They are not the only ones like this, but they are the only ones who, to some level, know they are in a story.
This is the fundamental separation between them and everyone else.
The difference in how they perceive themselves between heart soul and spirit is very difficult to explain and understand, but not impossible to someone who knows them and is willing to put in the work.
The life-long knowledge that they are Important to the Song and their every choice and event they experience and their mere existence serves a greater purpose in a way that most other people simply do not- that's very, very isolating.
No one else can understand how they see the world. Very very few people are willing to try, and even fewer in a way that's not frustrating. There is a reason most of them find only one person to latch on to outside of their family, and a reason they hold on through hell and high water.
(This is about being neurodivergent)
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@proshipper-on-ship thank you for the Dick & Dan idea you added to my other post, please enjoy some of the fall out your comment resulted in haha
“So,” Bruce tried, looking hesitantly pleased at the surprisingly light atmosphere around the table. “Anything new and exciting going on with anyone?”
There was a smattering of answers from around the table. Jason didn’t offer anything - which wasn’t surprising, that he was even there and largely not starting a fight was more than enough as far as Dick was concerned - but with some ribbing from Steph, Tim eventually admitted to finally asking that boy he’d been interested in out. Dick joined in on teasing his little brother - and even Jay gave, for him, some gentle ribbing over finally getting the balls to do something, eh Timberland? - while very carefully avoiding mentioning his own sorta-kinda thing with Dan in Bludhaven. He’d deal with his siblings making him miserable and embarrassed over it all when he actually scored a date with him thanks very much.
Things were going good.
And then Damian cleared his throat, looking imperious and uninterested at the same time as he waited for everyone to turn to look at him.
“I have an announcement on an alteration to my personal life.” He declared, chin up and looking like he was already over this whole family-bonding-time thing, which was fair. Damian had gotten better over the years, but he was still not exactly the cute and cuddly little brother. Dick still had the scar from the last time he tried to hug Dami without warning a year ago and got stabbed for the effort. Still, he was sharing, willingly even! That’s progress!
At the head of the table Bruce tilted his head, looking as cautiously hopeful as Dick felt over the youngest Wayne actually offering to share something personal. “Have you decided on what college you want to go to then?”
“No.” Dami dismissed easily, without more than a glance in Bruce’s direction. “Night and I have decided to take some time to travel before continuing any further schooling.”
Huh, honestly, Dick was kinda surprised. With how much of a perfectionist Dami was, he’d thought he’d throw himself into college with the same ferocious, competitive drive he did everything else. But then again, if Elle Nightingale was going to be taking a gap year or two, it wasn’t as if it was that much of a surprise that Dami would go and join her.
The two gremlins had been practically inseparable since they were twelve and discovered a shared love of stabbing people and adopting every animal they see. If Dami’s best friend was going to go gallivanting across the world like she always dreamed of doing, Dick couldn’t actually be that surprised that Dami would be going with her.
Dick took a sip of his drink as Dami opened his mouth to continue with what was probably going to be to most people the world’s most harrowing game of “how many incredibly dangerous animals can we see before we end up dead on our gap year” that the two demons were undoubtedly planning.
He regretted taking that sip almost immediately as Damian said, “Night and I took our marital vows yesterday. She sends her regrets that she was unable to join us for family dinner tonight.”
Predictably, the room broke out into utter chaos.
Dick choked on his drink, spraying across the table and splattering Babs with a shower of wine. She didn’t even seem to notice, dropping her own glass as she snapped her head over to stare at Damian, the sound of breaking glass and a deep red stain pooling across the table following as she did. At the end of the table, Jay made a noise like a dying goose as the samosa he’d just popped in his mouth threatened to kill him. Cass, perhaps the most outwardly calm at the proclamation, only stared with wide eyes at her younger brother as she hit Jason on the back in an attempt to make sure he didn’t die.
Dick could practically hear the old shrieking AOL dial up noise that was Tim’s brain attempting to process what his little brother had just said, while sitting next to him Steph gave a small shriek of you what? Duke’s head was on a swivel, eyes darting from Damian, to another family member, to Damian and back again as if unsure who to even look at in the moment.
Bruce just…stared, frozen in place, face caught in the most open look of shock Dick thinks the man has ever shown in his life.
---
Damian sniffed and cast a caustic look towards - of all people - Jason, “Unlike some people, I share my good news with the family in a timely manner.”
Jay sputtered, “You know what, fuck you! Fine, you want me to share the news?” Jay snapped his head towards the rest of them. “Jazz is pregnant, baby is due next month on the sixth. Baby shower’s next weekend at Robinson Park, show up or don’t, I really don’t give a fuck.”
Or maybe he was just going to try to kill them with a heart attack.
“What the fuck?!”
“Language!”
“Who the fuck is Jazz?!”
“Language!”
“Night’s elder sister and guardian, Drake, keep up. You should know this, you’re dating her brother.”
“I’m what?”
“And Grayson is having flirtations with her other brother.”
“Dan is Elle’s older brother? Wait - how do you know about that?”
“Todd and I are in the Nightingale family group chat. We have endured far too much waxing poet about your posterior over the past months.”
“Why do they all have variations of the same name? Who gives all their children the same name?”
“He likes my ass?”
“Oh my god, bigger picture Dick, focus.”
“Seriously, do they all have the same name outside of the older sister? I feel like we need to acknowledge they all have the same name.”
“Can we go back to the fact that Damian got married? To Elle? Yesterday? How did you even do that without anyone knowing?
“Dr. Nightingale is a notary.”
“...Dr. Nightingale as in the woman Bruce is investigating Dr. Nightingale?”
“Okay but the name thing? Please tell me you’re not naming the baby some variation of the name Daniel.”
“If the gremlins get their way it will be. Do you know how many lists we’ve made that they keep sabotaging?”
“So you have Dan’s number? Could you give it to me?”
“Jesus Christ, Dick I’m begging you.”
“Why did you guys even get married?”
“For the diplomatic immunity.”
“You don’t have diplomatic immunity.”
“I do now.”
“What does that mean?”
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the higher-ups (and Yaga) immediately trying to leverage Gojo & Ieri's absence to put Yuuta on the roster??? God that's such a stark moment. Thank god Nanami and Gojo saw through that one immediately, because Yuuta wants to justify his own survival so badly he would've fallen straight into it.
That whole scene, with Yuuta immediately jumping on the opportunity to help people even though something is Extremely Wrong with him and he's on the brink of physical collapse--this boy is selfless to the point of self destruction and I am chewing the drywall about it. I love him so much.
If only he was able to summon his newly found homicidal rage in defense of himself, the higher-ups would no longer be a problem. Alas, this boy is Extremely Unwell.
(Sea Glass Gardens is absolutely incredible and i am obsessed with it in a way that is totally and 100% normal. I'm so normal about it, trust me <3 )
The thing about Yuuta is that he really is prime to be taken advantage of right now and the higher ups know it. They had him try to kill himself for them--they know that there's a window of opportunity that they can use to get him under their thumb and avoid The Problem of Gojo, which is, namely, having a human weapon who you cannot fully control. Gojo nailed it from the beginning: they want a magic gatling gun with no personality or free will. They learned their lesson with Gojo and are trying to rob Yuuta of his agency before he learns how to protect himself.
And Yaga's part in that scene really was meant to kind of emphasize how, even with the best intention's, he just doesn't work to protect the kids. Like. everything he said was technically true, and he meant it with the best of intentions. He's the guy who has to think of everyone's needs. he has to manage this crisis. he's got a lot of people hurt badly who just came out of a war, and a lot of people going into fights with some very aggravated curses spawning without sufficient manpower to address the danger and no healer to save them if they cut it a little too close. He didn't have the intention of manipulating or sacrificing Yuuta, but he was aware that it would come to his detriment and risk.
The issue is the higher ups. They don't give a shit about the people in their workforce. They should be the ones doing whatever it takes to solve this crisis and save their people--and if that means giving up on their machinations? They should have already done it. It's their responsibility.
They just don't care. They want Okkotsu Yuuta under their thumb, and their society hemorrhaging is treated like an opportunity, not a dire problem to be solved. They don't care if half a dozen of their own people need to die to do it. Hell, it's better if they do die--they can put it straight on Okkotsu for not being willing to sacrifice himself, when they should have been making whatever promises they had to in order to make this work.
Gojo's done this before, is the thing. He was Yuuta, a long time ago. Nanami was right there watching it happen. They both know what the higher ups do: They let society get to a crisis level and put all the responsibility on you to save it. they let you maneuver yourself into a vulnerable position as a result, and then they use it as leverage to put their goddamn boot on your neck.
The thing is that Gojo adopting megumi all those years ago really did put them into a crisis state. the zenin pitched the mother of all bitch fits trying to secure his unconditional return, and they were a huge percentage of jujutsu society's labor force and resource pools. instead of the higher ups managing the problem at all, they took advantage of the situation and shoved more and more of its weight and responsibility onto gojo, until he was dropping off his own kid at his abusers' compound thinking it was the only compromise that could resolve things. megumi paid the price for gojo not calling bullshit, and right now, with him in a hospital bed? gojo's less willing to repeat mistakes than ever.
he knows that they're going to use the safety and suffering of everyone else as the leverage against him, and he knows that as terrible as it is, he cannot blink first. He's played this game before, and he knows that the only way to get the higher ups to back off on something like this is to dig in your heels.
I think what happened to Megumi all those years ago and how bad it got before they put a stop to it is something that haunts all three of them. When they first started raising him, they were very young, and they were very broken, and they loved him very, very much. He was their little boy, and he was never the same after the Zenin. They were supposed to protect him, and they didn't, and not a single one of them has forgiven themselves for that.
Megumi was sort of sacrificed for the greater good when he was a kid. None of them thought that that was what they were doing when it happened, but that's what happened. His happiness, safety, and wellbeing were sacrificed to pacify the Zenin and make it easier on everyone else.
Megumi and Tsumiki had to become their non-negotiables after. They had to become the things they refused to compromise on. The Zenin would take miles and miles if you gave them a millimeter, let alone an inch.
Gojo didn't think he was compromising them when he left them on their own to deal with Geto's war. They were disgustingly self-sufficient kids. They had been alone for longer stretches of time when they were practically toddlers--they should have been fine on their own for a couple of weeks.
But they were still his kids, and he still left them alone for everyone else's sake, and now his kid is blind and half dead in a hospital bed. It's like being punched in the face by old mistakes.
So they're off the roster completely, all of them. And they're not compromising an inch on what their focus is, and they're not letting anything happen to any of the other kids in their care.
It's terrible that their coworkers are suffering, but it wouldn't be happening if the Zenin hadn't fucked with Gojo Satoru's kid, of all the goddamn people. It wouldn't be happening if the higher ups would actually do their job and start managing shit.
And if they use Yuuta as an anxiety riddled bandaid on the bullet hole in their society? Then they'd be sacrificing him the way they sacrificed Megumi all those years ago. And they have never been less willing to do that.
I'm so so glad you like the story! Thank you for talking with me!
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