Demon Child and the Demon King (draft)

draft about a demon child and a demon king.

vod link.

hi, everyone! while i set up a stream promo tweet, feel free to play with my chat commands. type “!commands” to view them all.

we’re gonna be writing about a demon child and a demon king tonight!

the new raccoon is Solnishko! divinevulpes made him for me.

i’ve had these fireflies in my quest list for at least a month now, and i want them to stop being in my quest list.

tentative list of content notes include: a child (the MC) in peril, obsessive behavior, and already dead parents.

not gonna go into how they died.  right now, all that’s important is that they’re dead.

i also might be jumping around between scenes i want to write, so everything might not be in order. i just wanna get some writing done. and some scenes are more exciting to me right now than others.

this one i’m gonna be writing is likely gonna be the only one where the child is in danger.  he’s not gonna be a child throughout the entire story, i just have a couple ideas for when he’s a kid.

oh! one of my other streaming and writing friends, Saimun Wang, has an article coming out on #TwitchDoBetter! much hype for that! <3!

alright twenty more of these. i can do this! i am, after all, a superhero ^-^!!


Malevo didn’t know what he was running from, just that he was running from something.  The gold beneath his bare feet was slippery.  He saw a wolf-like dragon in his reflection.  Emerald scales tinted red from the ruby columns.


Malevo didn’t know why he was running, just that he was running from something.  The gold was slippery beneath his bare feet, and his reflection was tinted red by the ruby columns.  He was in his demon form.  His claws were keeping him from slipping and tripping too much.

And if whatever was chasing him caught up to him, he’d be able to fight.


[oh that’s right i never came up with a name for the demon king lol.]

[i mean if you’re the demon king do you really need a name XD?]

The Demon King; a brutish, garnet dragon; rose from his throne.  [He woke to the smell of the snake woman.]

“The snake woman,” he growled as he took in a too familiar scent. “Not even in my dreams will she let me have Lynco!”

He darted forth.  He refused to be humiliated again.

As he grew closer, he smelled Lynco’s scent as well.  His chest swelled.  His breath stopped, albeit momentarily.  He was hopeful he’d be able to end this farce of a treason and take back his love.  His wonderful winter wolf.

But as he finally sighted the holder of the scents, he realized it wasn’t two, but one.  It was neither Lynco nor Emera.

Enraged, he tackled the intruder to the ground.  [No doubt a thief.]  A thief, no doubt, or someone else treacherous enough to use their scents to trick him!

[As the alleged thief sc.]

The Demon King only tightened his hold on the alleged thief’s neck and wrists.  The thief’s struggles eventually died out.  As he lay there, emerald-sapphire eyes wide on the Demon King, the Demon King realized that this was not a false scent he’d put on, but his own.

The Demon King took in the thief’s form.  He was both scaled and furred.  And obviously a young demon given his small size, how easily he was overpowered, and that he wasn’t using magic at all.  That last one pegged him as an especially young demon indeed.  A mortal might’ve considered him an adult, but parents often taught their children to don an adult form to protect them from mortals.  To have greater size to aid them in battle while their magical abilities were still in their infancy.

And really, as the thief began to cry, that was the only word the Demon King considered to describe him: infant.

Demons, unlike mortals and other lesser creatures, had full control of how their forms developed.  Offspring didn’t always display family resemblance, especially when personalities or ideals clashed.  But this demon; with his brilliant blue fur and green scales, his onyx claws and opal horns; resembled two demons in particular.

He was Lynco’s child.

The Demon King growled once more.  [If he had a hand free, he.]  He slammed a fist on the floor in frustration.

This child should’ve been his!  He should’ve had rubies where he had emeralds.  His horns should’ve hardened and curled where they branched and curved [and spread instead].

When the child froze and silenced, obviously terrified, the Demon King realized he didn’t need to frighten him.

Lynco’s child could still be his.

The Demon King sat back and donned a mortal form.  Something more charismatic, as his advisors would say.  He released his grip on the child, although he remained lodged over him.  He couldn’t have Lynco’s… their child escaping.

“I am the Demon King.  That would make you a prince!” he said, knowing children loved princes and princesses. “Everyone would bring you gifts every day: beautiful jewels and wondrous toys.  You’d be well taken care of as my child.”

The child only looked at him with confusion and, the Demon King realized, horror.  He began his struggles anew.

“Mommy! Daddy!!” he cried.

The Demon King roared.  [Even in his mortal form, he.]  Subduing the child in his mortal form was more difficult, but he eventually got him back under control.

Until he cried for someone else.

“Grandpa!!!”

It was the Demon King’s turn to be confused.  Lynco and Emera’s parents were long dead.  There were no grandparents for this child to call for.

The Demon King cried out as he was enveloped by magical string that sparked with sky magic.  The more he moved, the more it stung.

The demon child scrambled away and behind his guardian, clutching their robes.  The guardian, a mere mortal!  And wasn’t that just the greatest insult of the night.  The guardian wrapped one hand on the child while keeping another free for spellcasting.

“You will not harm him,” the mortal said, his gray brows and wrinkly eyes sneering with determination.

The Demon King snapped at the mortal, as futile as it was.  And painful, with the magical thread igniting around him.

“Let’s go home, Malevo,” the mortal said. “He won’t bother you anymore.”

And wasn’t that rich?  The mortal thought he could protect… Malevo.

Something the snake woman had chosen, no doubt.  Granted, it fit a prince of demons, the Demon King supposed.

As the dream faded, the Demon King found himself free of the spell at last.  As well as unhappily alone in his bed.

He tossed on a red robe with gold and black accents, choosing to stay in his mortal form for today.  If Malevo was indeed in a mortal’s custody, he might respond better to it than his demon form, when they finally met in the waking world.

Flighto, his bat demon advisor, wormed his way to the Demon King’s side.  To review the day’s itinerary, no doubt.  But the Demon King interrupted him.

“Send out our scouts and spies!” the Demon King said as he stomped through the halls designed for mighty dragon demons in their full glory, not in a mortal-sized disguise. “There’s a wolf-dragon demon child named Malevo who was kidnapped by some decrepit mortal.  Lynco’s child. And mine!”

“I never knew you had a child with Lynco,” Flighto said, adjusting his glasses and taking notes. “Perhaps that’s why he left the palace so suddenly?  But then why would he take—”

The Demon King snapped his jaw at him in warning.  Flighto held his hands up, smiling.  Flighto was infuriating, but he had the scouts and spies sent out within the hour.

In the meantime, all the Demon King could do was rule and spar impatiently.  In the evenings, he drank the reddest wines, gaze locked on his painting of Lynco in his prime.  Both him and the painting ablaze from the fire.

“Your choice in custodians is as questionable as your choice in mates, dear Lynco,” the Demon King said. “But that will be corrected soon enough.”


Quile was drinking tea by the fire when Malevo showed them a drawing.

“What a clever-looking fox!” Quile smiled. “And what great fur direction!”

Malevo was an artist[, it seemed].  Quile had started studying it so that they could give Malevo more detailed praise.  Malevo was much happier now.  Quile wondered if his talent came from his mother, his father, or both—because it certainly didn’t come from Quile, they freely admitted.

“There’s a school just for art in the capital,” they said. “Would you like to go there someday?”

Malevo frowned.

Quile thought back to what he knew of demons.  Unless they were just establishing themselves, they didn’t tend to travel.  It’d taken a year just for Malevo to settle in Windy Beach, although Quile had attributed that to also reeling from the death of his parents at the time.

[alright we’ve been streaming for over an hour and a half. let’s run a one-minute ad break. i’ve been curious about trying this out. prepare your ears / audio, idk what it’s gonna do exactly.]

[okay cool! thanks for bearing that with me. we shall continue with the writing.]

[i really love these solnishko models divinevulpes made for me ^-^. they’re adorable just like solnishko is.]

[i’m also coming up on 125 twitch followers! that’s exciting.]

“I’m sure your parents would love it too,” Quile said.

Malevo’s mood became one of thoughtfulness rather than… sadness?  Quile wasn’t exactly sure what it’d been, but they knew it’d upset Malevo.  He hadn’t been here long, in the grand scheme of things, Quile supposed.  They didn’t want him thinking they were sending him away.  It’d been a suggestion for when he was older, not right now.  Still, that hadn’t been how Malevo had taken it.

“I apologize, little one,” Quile said. “I’ll consider my words more carefully in the future.”

Malevo asked to be held that night.  Quile comforted him without hesitation.


Malevo stood before his parents’ graves.  Principal Quile had made them.  They were by the pond in the back of their house.  His parents weren’t buried there, of course, but Principal Quile was insistent on providing somewhere for him to go to commune with them.  Malevo hadn’t understood it at first, but now, he was grateful.

He presented his drawing of the fox demon.

He realized he’d made a mistake.  He only had one drawing with him.  [He started tearing up.]  He clamped down his tears and shuddering breath.  This place was secluded, yes, but he didn’t want to attract attention.  Not over something so silly.

But it wasn’t silly to him.  He had two parents and only one drawing.

[thanks for the raid, my sweet mabu 💙💙💙.]

[y’all we’ve also been streaming for over two hours. i’m still doing good, so i’m gonna stretch so that i stay doing good. definitely wanna finish this nezthai. i can probably get at least one more done tonight as well. might stream tomorrow as well, but definitely earlier cuz i got an early morning thursday x___x. bleh!]

[stretch break achieved.]

[i should work on more emotes, but that requires art, and art is exhausting.]

Malevo found himself focusing on the crease where he’d folded his drawing in half.  With slow, careful movements, he tore the drawing in half.  Each parent got a drawing.

Malevo looked at his parents’ graves, relieved to have figured out a gift for both of them.


Hours later, when the moon hung high in the sky, a silver fox demon appeared.  They were confused, wondering how they’d been summoned until they saw the halved drawing.  It was clearly a child’s rendition of them, but it was them all the same.

“Malevo?” they said, looking for him in the dark.

The dark wasn’t as much of an impediment as their unfamiliarity with this environment.  It might’ve been the mortal town, but they weren’t sure…

“Malevo!” they called again.

But alas, the house soon pulled him back.

All they could do was hope Malevo drew them again, and tore the image.

[oh cool i only have seven nezthais left.]

[and i’ve got plenty of scenes to write for this project. let’s see if i can get through one more on stream, then i’ll probably call it a night. if i’m doing well enough, i’ll write one more with the demon king.]

“So that’s the mysterious Malevo, huh?” one of the newer students said.  A sophmore who’d flunked out of his fancy city school.  His parents had sent him here to save face.  At least that’s what Malevo had heard, anyway.  This guy had apparently heard just as much about him. “Why’s he never in any classes?  Or tournaments?  Is he that bad?”

[“What? No way!  Malevo’s great!”]

Malevo, at this time, was technically considered a freshman.  It didn’t matter to Malevo, he’d been here pretty much all his life.  He was just learning spells now.  The really dangerous ones.

“Hasn’t the principal been keeping him around since he was a kid?” another student asked. “What do you think they want with him?”

“Maybe he’s a pet,” the sophmore grinned.

Malevo felt his magic flare up.  He didn’t care what the students said about himself.  They came and went.  In the end, Malevo remained.

[But nobody insulted Grandpa.]

[The principal.  Nobody insulted the principal.]

“Glacier Train!” Malevo stamped the ground, and from his foot sprang icy peaks that barreled into the sophmore.

The other student yelped, her own toes freezing from even just that slight contact with the spell.

The sophmore scrabbled to warm himself up.

He flinched when Malevo moved into his space.

Malevo glared up at him.

“Nobody insults Grandpa.”

The sophmore gave him a funny look.

“The principal,” Malevo corrected. “Nobody insults the principal.”

“Shit, he’s your grandpa???”

The sophmore and his friend scrambled away.

“That’s why you don’t do any tournaments!”

Malevo whipped around.  He canceled his spell.  It was just Brasho.  Another freshman.  He’d only been here for a week, and he was eager to make friends.  Malevo had been trying to shake him off, convinced there were better friends to make than him, but Brasho was persistent.

Brasho had one of his trademark super grins on his face.  It spoke of good-natured tomfoolery.

“You stay out of tournaments because you don’t want to embarrass us!”

Malevo was impressed.  Each of the seven days Brasho had been here, he’d managed to out-ridiculous the ridiculous thing he’d done the previous day.  Malevo was starting to think there needed to be a special word just for Brasho.

Malevo rolled his eyes and went back… home.  It was strange to call it that, but it’s where he’d been living all these years.

Principal Quile’s living quarters were tidy and well cared for, just like Malevo.  There were several of Malevo’s drawings from all throughout his life tacked on the walls[, as well as books Principal Quile studied and wrote].  The most elaborate thing in the place was probably the bookshelf.  It held the books Principal Quile studied—and wrote!  Malevo finally understood the books they’d written.  Although some of the studies still eluded him.

There was a kitchen area and a bathing chamber off to the side.  The main room was where they slept, and where the fireplace was.  Windy Beach was cold in the winter, spring, and autumn; it was best for buildings to be small.  Not that Malevo had ever been in a particularly large building, that he recalled.

Malevo slugged onto his bed, needing to rest a moment before he even got beneath his covers.

A moment must’ve become a lot of moments, because the next thing Malevo knew, Principal Quile was calling him gently.

“Malevo?”

He rolled to face them.  He couldn’t bring himself to sit up.

“Do you need help with your blankets?”

As much as it pained him to admit… Malevo nodded.  He didn’t even have the energy to say “please”.  Or anything at all.

“The usual losers?” Principal Quile asked.

Malevo smiled, laughing airily to hear Principal Quile call them that.

“You can always come to me if anybody is bullying you,” they said more seriously. “You don’t need to weather them on your own.”

Malevo knew that, but…

It was very satisfying to deal with them on his own!

Besides, this wasn’t anything to bother Grandpa about anyway.  Just puerile fools more focused on gossip than their studies.  Fools who’d be gone in four years at most.  Malevo certainly wasn’t holding his breath on that sophmore graduating.


Malevo stood before a very familiar-looking painting.  The subject was a wolf demon with sapphire fur.  It was a lot like his own, in the form he let no one but Principal Quile see.  When he saw his reflection in a window, he realized he was in that form.  A form of scales and fur, of claws and antlers.

Malevo realized it must’ve been a painting of his father!  What was it doing here of all places?  This strange palace of gold and rubies?  Of velvet and fire?

The painting yielded no answers.

[he had antlers where he should’ve had horns.]

[he had curving antlers where he should’ve had curling horns.]

He moved on.  The halls were as empty as that… study room?  Or maybe it was a greeting room?  Malevo had never seen the latter, but he supposed it made more sense, as this was a palace.  A very large one at that.  Like it was built for an incredible serpent.  The halls went on for miles.  They were made of gold and dotted with ruby columns.

[He soon realized why.]  With a dreadful familiarity, he started running.  He couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d been here before, and that he should get out as soon as possible.  He tried to dream about the school instead, his parents’ graves, but he was locked here for some reason.

He soon discovered the reason.

He hurried onward.  He refused to look back at his pursuer, but he’d heard him plenty.  The roar of a dragon demon.  Unmistakably territorial and aggressive.

The halls were endless, with no other rooms he could duck into, and nothing he could use as a barricade against his pursuer.

Fear made him burst with speed, but it didn’t last long.  His body was faltering fast.

The dragon demon pinned him to the ground, belly first.

“Malevo…” the dragon demon said fondly, as if they’d met before.  Malevo had no idea who this was.  Someone who knew his father, but how? “You’ve returned to me.”

[thank you for the bits TheLadyWrites 💙💙💙.]

Malevo struggled.  He started casting.

“I was wondering when you’d start using magic,” the dragon demon said. “You might’ve been able to escape me, if you’d used some earlier.  Why wait until the last moment?”

If the dragon demon could see his face, he’d see how absurd that question was.  If he’d used magic earlier, he’d fucking collapse!

Malevo quickened his casting as much as he could, knowing he’d pay for it later.  He had no idea how long this dream would last, and he refused to spend the night with whoever this was.

But then the dragon demon gripped Malevo’s neck.  Malevo’s casting immediately stopped.

“I’m sure your spell is impressive, but there’s much more pleasant things we ought to be doing,” the dragon demon said. “Come along now.”

The dragon demon hadn’t given him a choice.  He was humongous!  His hand was large enough to cage Malevo.  His claws were iron bars.  They wouldn’t budge no matter how hard Malevo pushed at them, only exhausting himself in the process.

CoffeeQuills redeemed some points for some boyfriend concepts~.  Autumn boyfriends coming right up!

  1. boyfriends raking their neighbors’ yard together.
  2. boyfriends jumping into leaf piles together.
  3. Boyfriend A loves pumpkin-flavored everything; Boyfriend B is firmly anti-pumpkin.
  4. boyfriends painting fall colors together.
  5. boyfriends climbing trees to watch how sunlight hits the forest together.
  6. boyfriends apple-picking together.
  7. Boyfriend A lends their jacket to Boyfriend B because it’s windy and Boyfriend B is chilly.
  8. boyfriends piling their jackets on their chilly boyfriend because they were unprepared for how suddenly the wind would pick up.
  9. boyfriends enjoying hot chocolate on the porch on a cool, autumn day together.
  10. boyfriends rushing to do warm weather things before winter comes together.
  11. Boyfriend A is the manifestation of autumn.  Boyfriend B is their human admirer.  Spring, Summer, and Winter are rooting for Autumn!
  12. Love pentagon (or polycule) between Spring, Summer, Winter, Autumn, and a non-season boyfriend.  Autumn wins either way.
  13. Autumn Boyfriend and Fire Boyfriend.
  14. Leaf Boyfriend and Pumpkin Boyfriend.
  15. Boyfriends realizing for the first time just how many leaves would be falling on their yard in autumn together.

spooky boyfriends for amandapandasensei.

  1. boyfriends adopting void cats together.
  2. vampire boyfriends raising a family together.
  3. ghost boyfriends haunting their greedy landlord together.
  4. void catboy boyfriends.
  5. Void Catboy Boyfriend and Angel Catboy Boyfriend.
  6. monster boyfriends and their haunted house, 2.5 kids, and their demon dog.
  7. monster boyfriends meeting their human neighbors.
  8. every kid knows the monster boyfriends give out the most candy on Halloween.  They also have allergen-friendly goodies, and they’ll give stuff out no matter how old you are!
  9. monster boyfriends going to prom together.
  10. Boyfriend A is a human; Boyfriend B becomes a void cat whenever they get wet.
  11. Ghost Boyfriend, Wraith Boyfriend, and Grim Reaper Boyfriend.
  12. grim reaper boyfriends taking selfies with their scythes and void cats together.
  13. witch boyfriends bonding over their shared love of void cats.
  14. Boyfriend A has an owl familiar.  Boyfriend B has a cat familiar.
  15. Boyfriend A has a lizard familiar, Boyfriend B has a spider familiar, and Boyfriend C has a piranha familiar.

“A demon shouldn’t tire this easily,” the dragon demon said. “Is that mortal mistreating you?”

“Never!!!” Malevo snarled, having enough strength for that at least.  Although he would’ve loved to punctuate it with a bite, a kick, or a punch—preferably all three.

Malevo didn’t like how the dragon demon scrutinized him.  Probing for things that weren’t there.  Grandpa would never—!

The dragon demon brought him to a bedroom bathed in red.  Red walls, red floors, red sheets.  Red curtains on the bed.

The dragon demon dropped him on the bed.

“Sleep, Malevo, prince of demons.”

Prince of demons!?  What was he talking about?!  And he absolutely was not sleeping with this weirdo watching him!!!

But as the dragon demon coiled around him, as Malevo started losing breath and room to protest…  A lethargy deeper than anything Malevo had ever known before quickly conquered him.  His body surrendered without his consent.

The last thing he heard from this dream was the dragon demon purring.  The last thing he felt was blankets holding him down, and the dragon demon’s hand curling around him.


It was the Summer Festival.


Windy Beach’s Summer Festival was in full swing.  Colorful lanterns swung throughout town, painting the night aglow with rainbows.  Food stalls were sizzling, firecrackers were crackling.

And it was finally, blessedly cool enough for Malevo to move.

It’d been a long two weeks of mercilessly hot weather.  Malevo had needed to spend most of it asleep.  The only good thing about it was that he was too miserable to dream.

Malevo knew exactly which stall he wanted to hit up first.  Seara’s friend dough!!!  [With as much powdered sugar as Malevo could fit on it!]  With as much powdered dough as Malevo could coax out of the canister.

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