Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

For the longest time, Bee’s absolute favorite thing on Elegy was its food.

Sure, as an empathy daemon, Bee loves and depends on the people, the things they feel. Happiness and light and positivity are Bee’s bread and butter, so to speak; they don’t need human food to live.

Joy just doesn’t linger on the tongue like the savory saltiness of aged cheese. Giddiness doesn’t pucker the mouth in sour glee like a Meyer lemon. Even contentment doesn’t warm the body quite like fresh hot chocolate. If Bee is sustained by meals of optimism and pride and kindness, they live for the gorgeous things mortals make as dessert.

Excitement followed by freshly-picked strawberries. Happiness and then lavender tea. Wonder with a chaser of vanilla milkshakes. It’s a pleasant way to spend an immortal life.

One remarkable day in an unremarkable eternity, this day, Bee learns there’s more to life than “pleasant.” 

‘Iced, Lizzie- that drink is supposed to be iced,’ Bee says in a subliminal whisper. The redheaded barista stops and looks down at her hands. ‘ Cold. You grabbed the wrong cup. ’ With a blink and a little shake of the head, Lizzie puts down the ceramic mug and reaches for a glass.  

‘Right, right, cold. Get your head in the game, she thinks violently, glaring down at the espresso machine as if it was at fault for her mistake. Hovering in the air next to her, Bee can sense that isn’t true, can taste her bitter, acrid headache like coffee beans roasted in a volcano. With faith, trust, pixie dust, and a smidgen of healing magic, Bee takes away her pain and savors the honeyed, mellow relief she radiates instead. 

“One double shot Americano for Lasko!” she calls out, stepping aside to the pick up counter. “Sorry, that was supposed to be over ice, right?” Distracted by a service dog and its flavorless delight, Bee is all the more struck breathless when they get a taste of ambrosial, cotton candy contentment.

“Th- that’s right, thank you!” The raven-haired boy- man? Angel? Gift from Min’Ara?- says with a stutter and a smile that spreads across rosy, freckled cheeks. When he takes a sip of his drink, humming happily, his bliss drowns their senses in a flood of delicious, indescribable sensation. Bee thinks they taste cloying honey, fragrant pandan, rich chocolate, and heady liquor whipped together into a singular dish. It’s an overstimulating, overwhelming rush that has the empathy daemon figuratively and literally spinning. 

Lasko’s emotions sated them like a god’s banquet, could keep them fed for a fortnight, and he hasn’t even moved. When the man heads back toward his table, that jolt of joy settled into muted comfort, Bee can’t help but follow, drifting towards him like he is the sun and they are the earth, like he’s the moon and they’re the obedient tides. 

Sat down behind a laptop and a bevy of papers, dressed in scholarly browns and whites, Lasko Moore is unassuming, nondescript, and somehow wondrously, enchantingly beautiful. He’s a wallflower, and Bee has never felt more like their namesake- bewitched, blushing, bumbling- as they take their place in the seat across from him.

Chapter Text

If asked what eternal life is like, Bee would not know how to answer. How can they when the only company available to them is other d(a)emons, their companions in this long, unchanging existence? Bee has never had to contemplate immortality, the length of it, the monotony of it. So when Lasko Moore enters their life in a flurry of spring breezes and flushed cheeks and delicious delight, Bee is surprised to feel like their life has finally begun.

Days remain always the blissful, benign, boring same. Newly coalesced daemons are still enthusiastic and vibrant; they are excited to learn, and Bee is still excited to take them into Elegy to teach them. The little stars still bounce off everything and everyone, making friends with mortal children as easily as breathing, soothing scraped knees, and consuming candied, childish joy. Despite the long-held title of teacher, they’re really just a glorified babysitter, keeping an eye on human and daemon children alike as they play. Small Pollux and Castor still get to hold hands with their charge, get to talk to her, get to be seen, and hovering, invisible Bee still watches.

The nights are what have really changed, when they get to feel like they no longer just exist but get to live . The little ones rift back to Aria, sated and delighted, and Bee stays in Elegy to get their fill. 

The eccentric daemon has always enjoyed their escapades through the human world. Aria, though gorgeous and comfortable and home, lacks so many things the mortal realm has in abundance. Everywhere Bee turned, there were new smells and sounds and tastes and sights like nothing they’d ever seen before. The first time they saw cotton candy at a fair, a man spinning sugar and light out of thin air without magic, they had been spellbound and have been ever since. Every opportunity they have, they take to explore and discover the newest thing this world has for them to taste, and there is nothing newer or better than the cornucopia feast that is Lasko Moore. 

Bee thought it couldn’t get any sweeter than the night the stray campus cat let the fidgety air elemental pet her. The daemon had needed to use a little push to get the creature to stay still- nothing nefarious, of course, just a little serenity magic they picked up from a colleague, equivalent to a little catnip and sunlight- but the small thing hadn’t even needed it when Lasko finally laid a gentle, tentative hand on its head. Bee couldn’t taste or feel its feline bliss, but they could see the way its body relaxed beneath his petting, could hear the pleased purring from its belly. They could taste the contentment drifting off Lasko like applewood-smoked barbeque: warm, heady, delectable, coiling around their brain until they were boneless and dangling in the air with loopy pleasure. The empathy daemon thought they’ve could never experience anything more wonderful-

-until the next week, a cozy Friday night where Bee sat in on one of Lasko’s classes. They’ve never quite taken to crowds like some of their kind had, finding the sheer variety and inconsistency of emotions overwhelming, but it was worth it to watch the way Lasko dons the title of Professor so wonderfully. His frenetic energy works well in the classroom, his pacing up and down the aisles keeping all eyes on him and letting him stop by each desk to answer questions with a helpful smile. As the last of his students filed out, Lasko slumped in his desk chair with a drained, contented satisfaction that permeated the lecture hall with a rich, luxurious flavor like melted chocolate, and Bee felt they could float through the very ceiling, could buzz right out of their skin, could never find anything better-

-until two weeks later, when Bee finally got to watch a D&D session. There were a lot more numbers and scribbling on sheets and arguing than the daemon had thought there’d be, but Lasko seemed to be having fun, diffusing the whole room with an anticipation as fizzy and sweet as pop rocks. That feeling only builds throughout the night with each roll and spell and saving throw, and Bee is starting to feel buzzed with the most delicious sugar rush when the night reaches its climax. The actual plot eludes them, something about a necromancer king and his legion; all the daemon knows is that the flavor of the room soon takes a sour turn. Lasko’s face is tense and pinched in concentration, a stream of nervous rambling humming under his breath while he fiddles with the die in his hand. When he casts it on the table, eyes closed in anxious suspense, putting the fate of his party in god’s hands, Bee makes the impulsive decision to take it in their own. 

It takes only a magical drop in the ocean to twist the die from one side to another, from the 14 to the 20, but it unlocks an emotional floodgate of exquisite euphoria from Lasko that could have fed all of Aria. If asked later, Bee could not tell anyone what the critical success did in the story or what his character managed to do. All they can clearly recall is the way Lasko threw his hands in the air, tossed his head back, and laughed with a complete, utter delight and abandon that pushed the daemon over the precipice of tipsy into a dizzy drunkenness.

Eventually, Bee comes to terms with the fact that Lasko Moore is full of surprises. As wonderful amazing transcendent as he may feel one day, the air elemental always finds a way to shock them with the depth and complexity of his joy, and they’ve learned to eagerly anticipate the unexpected.

Even now, a normal Tuesday evening like any other, just sitting in his office with his laptop and paperwork, the raven-haired man is simply, divinely, inexplicably happy. Lasko flips his pencil in between his fingers when he’s not filling out forms with peaceful humming and muttering, and Bee loves to perch on the windowsill behind him, basking in both warm sunset light and his sweet contentment.

“I wonder if I should open up the class to more students,” he mumbles, fiddling with his glasses as he speaks. “It’d be more work for me, but there’s room in the classroom and in my schedule. Surely I can handle the extra workload?”

“ Wouldn’t recommend that, sugar,” Bee hums lazily, pushing on the pen with their magic so Lasko doesn’t accidentally fling it across the room. They don’t want him to hear, so he doesn’t, but he shakes his head all the same, wrinkling his nose at the computer screen. 

“No, I shouldn’t overload myself again. The amount of sessions I’m already holding will be a lot given Gavin attending- oh, god-“ Bee chews on the sweet, sour, salted plum flavor of Lasko’s flustered, anxious pleasure- what a combo- and has only a moment to note the familiarity of that name when rift magic ripples through the room. 

“Thinking of lil ol’ me, Professor?” Gavin says in that low, sultry tone he’s perfected before artfully draping himself over a chair. The beams of sunshine illuminate his tawny, golden-brown skin in a way the incubus knows flusters every human who lays eyes on him, so when Lasko sputters and stutters, hands wringing, that’s typical. He’s used to seeing the shy, sweet air elemental fall to pieces, especially when his shirt rides up just so. 

What he’s not used to seeing is onyx and emerald sheep horns and ponytail peeking over the top of Lasko’s chair as a bashful empathy daemon tries and fails to hide from him. 

Chapter Text

“Gavin, I’ve told you, b-begged you even to warn me before you do that…!” Lasko whines, his voice trembling with a shocked fright Bee can taste from behind his chair, unpleasant and brackish on the tongue like saltwater and seafoam. Gavin laughs, his genuine laugh, not pitched low and smooth but loud and studded with unattractive snorts, and the feeling dissipates like water vapor. 

“In my defense, Lasko, we had plans to walk together after my classes,” the incubus says, and Bee is endlessly charmed as they listen to the airhead elemental rifle through the papers on his desk to dig for the little clock he always forgets he has. 

“Oh god, is it time for dinner already!? ” Lasko swivels in his chair to look through the window behind him, and the empathy daemon crouched on the floor basks in the gorgeous view of Lasko’s face bathed in radiant sunsetting light. They’d lose themself in the sight if not for Gavin grinning in knowing mischief at them behind Lasko’s back. 

“Afraid so. Finish up here soon and then we’ll go?” Caught red-handed and redder-cheeked, Bee takes their seat on the windowsill and tries to avoid eye contact with Gavin who keeps that Cheshire cat smile on his handsome face. Lasko flusters as he gathers his things, sure that look is meant for him and emanating rose-flavored shyness under the scrutiny, and both magical creatures savor it until he sets his briefcase by the door. 

“I’m probably the last one in, so I’ve got to make sure everything’s locked and shut off for the night. Can you wait here for a bit?” The demon waves the professor off with a cool, lazy flick of the wrist and noncommittal hum. Lasko squints suspiciously but closes the door behind him, and the incubus is up and sitting on the desk in front of the empathy daemon as soon as it clicks shut. 

“Fancy seeing you here. Come here often?” Gavin says with a sly smirk and quirk of the brow, and Bee rolls their eyes affectionately before tackling their friend in a hug. The daemon may be shorter than their demon counterpart, but the green-horned creature nearly knocks him off his ass with their abundant Moore-fed energy. 

“What are you doing back in Dahlia so soon?” they say with a wide, beaming grin. “I just saw you here five years ago; I thought you would have moved along by now!” Gavin wraps his arms around them and squeezes, and they both laugh as their auras fizzle and hum like static upon contact. 

“I’ve got something keeping me here,” he says with a warm, fond smile, playfully flicking the apple-shaped baubles hanging off their horns. “What about you, busybee? Rare to see you sitting still without a protostar or something tasty nearby… or is that what Lasko is for?” Gavin’s smile widens into a grin, and a flush rises up the daemon’s cheeks as their feet rise off the ground in embarrassment. He coos mockingly until Bee swats his hand away with a playful attempt at venom. “Baby daemon’s first favored charge, I’ll tattle to Delphinus.”

“I am nearly twice your age, Gavin-” they say, repeating a decades old argument and glaring daggers with narrowed, electric green eyes. His own, a vibrant, stunning pink, are smug as he looks down at them. “-and there’s nothing to tattle about!”

“Mm, just wait till I tell him you’ve been buzzing around my charge, he’ll have words.” Bee loses their flush and color, hovering even higher off the ground in nervous trepidation under Gavin’s scrutiny. “I don’t see you for a few years, and you become a gods damned thief. Is this what you’re teaching our youth?”

“I am so sorry,” they begin to babble in such a Lasko Moore-ish fashion that Gavin has to bite his lip to stifle his laughter. “Del will have my horns for this and the Chorus will have my wings and Minara will have my tail- I thought I checked- Oh gods, is he your…?” Bee stops fidgeting and spinning midair to throw a nervous, scandalized glance his way, and Gavin finally shows mercy, chuckling and taking them by the elbow to put their feet back on the ground.

“I’m messing with you, honeybee. He’s not a charge, just a close friend.” he says sweetly, leaning in to pet down their hair that had gotten mussed in flight. “Intimately close,” he adds less sweetly, cackling when Bee gasps like a god-fearing Sunday school teacher.

“If you make me taste sex emotions, I swear to E’laetum-” Bee hisses, wrinkling their nose at the memory of cinnamon spice and fresh, rich game intermingled with ripe, liquored fruit. Somehow, though feelings had no scent, those sensations always seemed to be accompanied by an odor of salt, hops, and flesh that Bee never got used to. Even if they cannot taste it, the empathy daemon could sense Gavin’s impish glee from a mile away, can practically see his glamoured-invisible tail curl and sway. “I’m rifting home if that’s the kind of dinner you’re having.” 

“Don’t get into a tizzy, I’m just playing.” That same tail jabs them in the stomach, and Gavin laughs, poking their warm cheeks with purple-painted nails. “It’s going to be a normal, Elegian dinner with friends, pizza, and video games. You should come by.” They start to bounce on the ball of their feet at the sound of pizza, something Gavin knows they consider to be one of the human’s greatest inventions, but that pursed, suspicious expression stays on Bee’s face as they squint at him. 

“Will that one fire elemental be there?” they ask, and Gavin raises an eyebrow at them, leaning back to appraise the tense empathy daemon before him. 

“What, Damien ? Have you finally found a human you didn’t immediately take to? What did he do, waste food? Crush a spider? Murder anyone I should know about?” 

“He always tastes angry,” Bee grumbles, twisting their mouth unpleasantly at the sense memory. “Belligerent and combative and sour everytime we see him… and he scares Lasko when he comes in for his meetings.” The incubus coos at Bee’s sullen, protective pouting before wrapping an arm around them and squeezing with a playful jostle. 

“No need for the stinger; Lasko and Damien are thick as thieves now.” Gavin holds his tail aloft and only has to wait a moment for Bee to curl their own around it in the Aria equivalent of a pinky promise. “Why don’t you come on over and see? No one will mind a fly on the wall… or bee, as it were.” The empathy daemon rolls their eyes at the all-too-familiar pun before shaking their head. 

“I wouldn’t want to intrude on your fun,” they start to protest, untangling their tail and beginning to pull away from under Gavin’s grasp when he tugs them back in with a cheshire grin. 

“Caelum will be there,” the incubus coaxes, watching as his friend noticeably brightens in excitement at the mention of their favorite starchild. “He’s unveiled to the Freelancer we co-steward, but he’d probably love another empathy daemon to keep him company.” Before he says anymore, Bee is off the ground, vibrating with energy, and ready to rift. 

“Are you sure?” they ask, using delighted, stimming fingers to reach for and twist with his. “You won’t mind?” 

“Go on and buzz off, Spica,” Gavin says with a fond tone and a shove. “I know you want to hone in on the little guy’s aura, so I’ll see you in a bit.” Bee rifts off with nary another word, just a beaming smile and a wave, and Gavin is left alone in the office with the lingering smell of ozone and magic. When Lasko returns, the air elemental wonders for a moment why the incubus looks so uncharacteristically solemn and disquieted but writes it off as a trick of the sunset light when Gavin throws a familiar, flirtatious arm around his waist to usher him out the door.