#devil's little face

[wolfgangamaderik]

This is what I was working on today- a Devil’s Little Face inspired family scene. Erik and Christine are ready to put an already sleeping Mahtab to bed after a bedtime story on the couch. In the background I tried to give some detail with a part of a mirror visible and a picture of the Opera House. 

[wolfgangamaderik]

This is a portrait of Erik and a small Mahtab from my phic Devil's Little Face

[wolfgangamaderik]

This is a bit of surprising turn of events, is it? 

[wolfgangamaderik]

When they are all at school

A Devil’s Little Face- based short fic

  All of the children were out of the house, and not even Kristina was at home. She went visiting some kind of friend, and helped her to do the shopping. Since she was aging, she became even more helpful towards the ones who could not do everything on their own, and needed help. 

 Erik was alone, or to be clear, only the Persian and the cat were left in the house. Monsieur LeChat did not need constant care taking, and he lazily lay in front of the fireplace on the rug, slightly purring in his sleep. The Persian retreated in the guest bedroom which served as his own room since he lived with the family, and did some nonsense he was interested in, so Erik was free to enjoy his own thoughts without being interrupted by a family member, and without having to concentrate on his ideas too hardly to shut out the constant noise the kids were making, partly by playing music, or by playing with their toys in a louder volume than they should with a father in his seventies. Well, to be honest, they weren’t making so much noise since they grew older, as they either weren’t home for too long time, or they were simply too old to play with dolls and tin soldiers in their late teens or early twenties.   

 Suddenly, by that thought, Erik had an idea. Maybe he should pack the unnecessary toys away so that they won’t pick up so many space in the children’s room, and they could use the space for something more useful to keep there. Belle, the youngest child did not play with “boyish” toys like small soldiers, a whole carriage and castle made of wood, toy drum or trumpet (oh those are horrible means of torture, shall the Daroga be damned for gifting these to Florian long-long years ago, God help everyone for the noise he was making marching through the house as a five-year old source of noisemaking...) 

 So he got up from his chair and walked to the children’s room with some boxes to pack the most useless toys away. He was whistling cheerfully, knowing he still had some use in the family contrary to his old age, while he did not have to overstrain himself  with too hard work. He was packing toys into the boxes, and he was looking at the contents, smiling.  Each and every piece of toy had its own origin and story behind it, and thinking how the children loved to play with one special toy, each child had his favorite. Mahtab loved the musical train they built together, Flo’s favorite other than musical instruments was a small clown figure he named Hugo, and Noel loved the carriage which had two horses attached to it. Noel often removed the horses and his favorite activity was to roll the carriage by full force across the long hallway which led from the children’s room to the drawing room. Erik learned to always except for objects or children running across that hallway anytime, so one always have to be careful, and double check if it was safe to walk along or not. He shook his head and chuckled, thinking back of these memories. No matter how he always stated he disliked young children, he had to raise so much of them, and remembering back, it was a nice time period of his life. 

 Looking again in the boxes, he slowly sat down on the floor next to it to be more comfortable, and pulled it closer to himself. Dreamily, still under the effect of memories, he involuntarily picked up the box of tin soldiers and a wound-up toy who marched through the room when it was working. 

“What have would Erik given if he had these in his childhood... these little monsters are really spoiled, are they?” 

He wound up the figure in amusement and placed it down to the floor to let it march around for one last time. He was looking at it in happiness, actually he enjoyed looking at it more than when the children were playing with it. Maybe because they were always playing with it at the worst spot of the house possible... behind his back when he was doing laundry, under the stairs, when he was descending in hurry, and had to stop suddenly not to kick it or fall through it... how he could have smashed it against the wall then! But now he had to admit it was cute. He did not really have the opportunity to play with any of these, at least, never alone. He was always just passively watched the children play, or his job was to make the toy talk by the aid of his ventriloquism. But he never played with these before... in his childhood he did not have toys, and after he grew out of them. 

Did he? 

What if... 

                                                                ***

- You have no chance of survival, as we have surrounded the castle, Ali Ben Mehmet! It is time for you to give up or we shall raze your mighty abode with my strong army. There is no way out! 

 The Daroga was surprise to hear Erik’s seemingly angry voice coming from the children’s room when he walked to the kitchen to drink a cup of coffee. He rose his brows in surprise and started listening. 

- I shall count to three and in the end, murder thee. Come out of hiding if you wish to die as a hero, not like a hiding rat! 

- What in the name of Allah is this man doing? - The Persian wondered out loud, turning to the door to leave the kitchen. He shall check Erik as soon as possible. In this age and with his past it is always better to make sure he isn’t going crazy. 

Stepping into the children’s room he saw his old friend kneeling on the floor with a perfectly organized army of tin soldiers, with the wooden castle in the middle of the room. He was happily rolling and walking on his knees from side to side to organize one or two soldiers into the final battling position. 

- Only by my dead body you are going to  occupy my castle, you infidel dog! - Erik’s altered voice with a noticeable amount of eastern accent, slightly mocking the Daroga’s pronunciation, came from the wooden castle. 

- This is what I wanted to do anyway. - Erik stated with a coldly calm intonation. - Pray to your Allah. One... two... 

By the time he was counting, he used a small pencil with a rubber band attached to it, with a colorful taw used as a cannon ball. He was ready to “shoot” when he sensed someone was watching him. 

Looking up he saw the nosy Persian standing in the doorway, looking at him. Erik jumped up in embarrassment, very quickly contrary to his age. He cleared his throat then kicked a tin soldier away to make the Persian believe he had nothing to do with these toys.

- I... I was just... cleaning up.. these children leave such a chaos after themselves always... 

 The Daroga felt sorry for Erik’s sudden reaction about being caught, finally having fun, and trying out something he should most likely have missed in his childhood. Who was him to judge? 

 He walked to the castle and sat down to the floor, followed by Erik’s shocked glance. 

- What... are you doing Daroga? 

- I think this soldier is better to be here. - The Persian put the kicked soldier in front of the castle again. - How should we defeat him if you kill your own army? 

 Erik sat back down with a shrug, and a chuckle, seeing that he did not have to be ashamed in front of the old great booby. He had never thought the Persian was into playing with children’s toys, but they ended up playing out three battle stories by the time Kristina arrived home. 

[wolfgangamaderik]

Here is chapter 95 of Devil’s Little Face. Enjoy! 

[wolfgangamaderik]

Devil’s Little Face-a family portrait in older times. 

From left to right: Mahtab at the age about 7, Erik, Christine, who simply can’t get enough of her son’s musical talent, and a 4 year-old Florian is sitting at the piano. :) 

Fun fact: This picture came to life out of a single sketch of Erik. I only drew his head yesterday night before bedtime, and I simply continued today. :) 

[wolfgangamaderik]

This is a oneshot I wrote for the prompt "an intimate Poto moment" on tumblr. This is a "deleted scene" from Devil's Little Face, Erik has to accept his hard feelings about passing the deformity to his firstborn, and it is hard for him to bond with his daughter, Mahtab at first.

 So, I love @timebird84‘s challenges and I take part in as much as I can :) 

Here is my entry for the intimate Poto Moment one, with a oneshot based on my other super long fanfiction, Devil’s Little Face, where Erik’s firstborn child sadly inherits his deformity. 

 I know much of you like that fic, and honestly, I do too, so I decided to write an intimate moment between Erik and Mahtab, when it was yet hard for Erik to love and accept her. 

Hope you like it, and thank you so much for the prompt idea and challenge, @timebird84! 

[wolfgangamaderik]

I liked the other Devil’s Little Face themed Christmas photo, so I decided to make another one with more family members. 

Here is a later Christmas with, of course, Erik and Christine, and here is a 6 year old Mahtab, when he already decided he was feeling better in boy outfit, a 3 year- old Florian, and here is Noel, who is exactly one year old in this photo, being born on the 25th December. This picture was taken in 1891, 10 years after the main POTO events.