#every chapter could be named after the isle they're going to in that chapter

[shatter-song]

I think I'll just post just the 1st chs of my ongoing stories and that's it. like I'll post updates when I finish them but these will be my main examples for people at how I'm doing writing wise

so this ch 1 of my melodybeast centered fic!

Oh. This is bad.

 

Viney doesn't know why it took her this long to realize that but it did.

 

Ever since Hunter's second arrival to Hexside and telling everyone the truth about the Day of Unity, all the kids were thrown into hysteria.

 

And who could blame them? The former Golden Guard comes to their school, tells them that the Day of Unity is actually a planned out mass genocide of all living things on the Isles and only the mass believers of Belos would laugh in their face.

 

Thankfully, Viney has always been a nonbeliever.

 

She mentally thanks her parent for instilling that in her.

 

But then it was the Day of Unity. Those with sigils nearly died, her friends go missing (whenever someone is saying that they could be dead, she asks Skara to cast a silencing spell because she might end up fistfighting someone), her Nobi goes missing, and all the kids are left alone.

 

She recalls Matt saying he doesn't know whether or not Glandus is okay which led her to wonder if the kids from other schools got branded or not.

 

(Are they alone, too?)

 

Regardless, none of them are showing up.

 

A week into the apocalypse, with every adult at Hexside turned into a puppet (because of Boscha, the darker parts of her mind provides) and many more missing, the realization what's happened sets in for every kid.

 

Then came the tears.

 

Everyone not in kindergarten was in charge now for the kindergarten kids. Their parents were either missing or puppets. No one was coming to help them.

 

They're on their own.

 

Yeah. This is totally not good.

This year is going in the therapy books. If those will even continue to exist anymore.

 

They have to get supplies. The kids – Oh yeah, she's one, too – were in this for the long haul, Titan forbid anyone think otherwise.

 

Which leads to now.

 

Ordinarily, Viney would be one of the witches to stay because of her capability in healing. Kat is... not here, Emira is inexperienced with major injuries that are more common than ever and is also taking care of Edric, and Bo is good but far too tired from the past few days alone.

 

And that's just naming a few. Viney is sure she could make a whole book listing the problems healers alone have right now.

 

However, with Matt busy in staging a coup, and the healing homeroom not actually packed for once, Viney volunteered to look for supplies.

 

Like hell she would live on school lunch for the rest of her life.

 

"If I knew that the apocalypse would come last week, I would've dressed more comfortably." Skara says irritably.

 

"Yeah, scavenging around in school uniform does not bode well for days in a row." Jerbo replies with a low note of humor.

 

Herself, Barcus, Jerbo, and Skara are scavenging the hollowed out town that was Bonesborough.

 

Apparently, there's some kind of schedule with how the Collector acts – at least, that's the best way to put it.

 

The morning to the afternoon was "playtime". The night until morning was "bedtime". It's coming into conflict to what she thought the Collector to be. Regardless of those thoughts, one thing is for certain.

 

The Collector is dangerous. And very powerful but that goes without saying.

 

"What should we look for first?" Barcus woofs from the front of the group.

 

"Hang on," Skara halts. "I made a list." The bard takes out a folded sheet of paper. She unfolds it then reads outloud.

 

"Okay so, we need some clothes for the kindergarten kids after they tore theirs while hunting down lockers."

 

Jerbo groans while Viney pats his back in sympathy. "That's gonna be a common occurrence, isn't it?"

 

"Yeah... We also need food, seeds for the plant track students – any will do, and some extra sleeping bags."

 

"Okay," Viney starts, "Let's head for the marketplace then. We'll find what we need there."

 

The trek wasn't hard. They ran into little to no trouble because... well, there wasn't anything. The streets were empty and quiet. It was wrong. Everything about this was wrong but now isn't the time to have a crisis.

 

She can save that for later.

 

"We should split up." Skara suggests, "We shouldn't run into much trouble but I'd rather not risk anything. You guys got invisibility glyphs?"

 

The trio nods then Skara continues, "Alright. Viney, you're with me. We'll scour the Ceilingmart. Barcus, you and Jerbo check the stands."

 

Ah. Hm.

 

Viney doesn't mind at all going with Skara but that doesn't stop this bubbling feeling in her from rising.

 

It's not the first time either.

 

"I think Skara is poisoning me." Viney says, one day. The two of them are inside the room of shortcuts except for Barcus.

 

Jerbo looks away from the potted abomination he was crafting. "What?"

 

"I think Skara is poisoning me."

 

"Why do you think that?"

 

"So, you know how when you're slowly poisoned overtime, you would feel weird in your stomach?" Viney gestures to him like this is completely normal.

 

...

 

"No, Viney. I wouldn't know." Jerbo says with a completely blank face and straight lined mouth.

 

"Okay, good."

 

"Oh my Titan, Viney."

 

"Anyways, that's what happening to me for like... a week now. I would just feel sweaty and like, I would feel my heart pounding so much faster than it should." Viney said.

 

"And you're sure this is her poisoning you? " Jerbo questions. At this point, neither of them are paying attention to whatever task they're supposed to complete. This is clearly more important.

 

"Well... no. But those are the symptoms of being poisoned, so..."

 

"Alright, there has to be more to this."

 

There is. Thank Titan that Jerbo is a good listener.

 

Viney would sometimes stare for a little too long. Think about her at nearly anytime of the day. Remember the littlest of things that just seem important to her. All that.

 

Then, Jerbo manages to develop the answer. He narrows his eyes. "That's not her poisoning you, Viney. That means you have a crush on her."

 

Oh.

 

Yeah. Oh. In hindsight, it was probably stupid to think she was poisoning her.

 

Whatever, this is where the problem comes in. What does she do about this?

 

She's never had a crush before. On anyone. What if she ruins their friendship? What if Skara hated her for it?

 

What if this wasn't a crush and she's just panicing over nothing? What if Skara actually reciprocates her "feelings" only to break up later?

 

Viney doesn't want to hurt her. She's been through enough hurt by her own friends as it is.

 

"Viney?"

 

The beastkeeper blinks, her intrusive thoughts disappearing as she takes in the present. She sees Skara looking at her in concern. Her cricket palisman is on her shoulder mirroring her witch's look.

 

"Yeah, what's up?"

 

Skara points to where Viney was originally looking. "You were just, uh, staring down those pots like it had done something to you."

 

Viney looks to where the bard is pointing. Ah, right. Since they can't go outdoors, they'll have to grow crops from pots.

 

"Sorry, just thinking about which pots to get. I'm not in the plant track so I don't know which one to get."

 

Ugh. Thinking about school romance of all things when you're supposed to be getting supplies for an entire school body? Seriously?

 

Get it together, Vernal.

 

"I guess that makes sense." The bard purses her lips in consideration. "Maybe I should've sent Jerbo here instead."

 

Viney shrugs, "Eh, it's fine. We could just come back if we need to. Not like they're going anywhere. I think." She turns to Skara, "Are pots sentient?"

 

That earns her a chuckle which in turn makes the healer smile.

 

For a moment, everything's right. This one moment they can ignore the apocalyptic setting around them and just be kids.

 

So it's only a matter of time before something goes wrong.

 

 

 

 

 

 

They weren't supposed to be here.

 

It was nighttime. Isn't that the Collector's bedtime? Do these things just have minds of their own?

 

Skara quickly plays a few notes on her lyre and the star is shoved into a nearby building by bard magic.

 

Jerbo uses a vine as some kind of lasso and drags another star down so Barcus could destroy it with a bite infused with oracle magic.

 

And Viney? Well, she's good at defense so defend is what she'll do. Puddles is... also not here so the best she could do is conjure shields whenever the time arises.

 

The shields are hands at least so she could swat them away like vampflies.

 

But this is getting too much.

 

"Barcus, look out!" Viney shouts.

 

Barcus yips and jumps up to dodge a spy's puppet-transforming magic before Jerbo catches him in his arms.

 

"We gotta fall back!" Jerbo yells and Barcus barks in agreement.

 

Viney makes a wide spell circle and the four are surrounded by a giant dark blue dome. It immediately cracks under the attacks recieved by their enemies.

 

Thankfully, quick thinking and improvisation are skills that you need if you were to be a delinquent a few months ago. And also a survivor in the apocalypse now.

 

"Grab hands and use an invisibility glyph then run like hell into the alleyways!" Viney commands.

 

Skara grabs Viney's hand – Oh Titan, calm down, it's literally just handholding for dear life – then she grabs Jerbo's. Barcus, who is still in the grip of his fellow delinquent, pulls out a glyph from his pouch.

 

"On three, hold your breaths!"

 

The group nods. Viney's shields are about to go down due to the force of the star spies.

 

Honestly, she's actually pretty surprised it lasted this long.

 

"Two!"

 

"Wh-?! What happened to one?!" Jerbo sputters.

 

"No time for one!"

 

The shields shatter into glistening light particles and spread across the baren street. Viney's proud of how long those lasted.

 

"Three!"

 

The group breathe in their share of air, hold it in, and run. They rush down the alleyways and out, dragging each other into a new street.

 

Pieces of Bonesborough watch as the spies fly past broken down husks of buildings of the place they called their town. The confusion is oddly clear on their faces.

 

The spies aren't giving up so neither are they. Well, in a sense they are, but this battle doesn't need to won in this war.

 

Jerbo drags them into a open building before shutting the door behind them. At that point, they all take in a large gulp of air, the invisibility taken off of them.

 

Skara, not stopping for a moment, covers the window with its blinds. Viney slumps against a wall while Jerbo puts down Barcus back on the floor.

 

"That..." Jerbo panted, "was close."

 

"Too close." Barcus huffs. "It's the middle of the night. I thought the Collector was asleep?"

 

"I guess those things must be capable of acting on their own." Viney said. "When we were running, I noticed how the spies looked confused. Like, really confused. That may not sound like much but you'd be surprised at how a lot of beasts are not capable of facial expressions."

 

It'd be fascinating if it weren't for the fact those things turn people into wooden puppets.

 

"They're quite the unique beast, no?"

 

"Regardless," Skara says, gathering the attention of everyone, "it's probably best if we hide for the meantime. Let's scour the building for any supplies."

 

"Aye aye, captain." Jerbo salutes. He leaves up a stairwell with Barcus in tow. The demon sends a side eye to Viney and before she could react, he's already gone.

 

Weird.

 

"Well," Skara begins and Viney turns to her. "where we should we start?" 

 

Ah. Right. Barcus knows because of couse he does.

 

Gay. Gay. Homosexual. Gay.

 

Shut up, Barcus.

 

She feels a chortle in her mind before it fades away. What was she doing again?

 

Oh! Right, a place to start.

 

"How about a kitchen?" Viney suggests. "I know I'm hungry after that ordeal."

 

"No kidding." Skara giggles. "I hope they have some cake in here."

 

Viney laughs. "Here's hoping."

 

Skara draws a circle and a ball of light is brought to life in the palm of her hand. She smiles at her which has the troublemaker darting her eyes, uncharacteristically shy-like.

 

Okay, Vernal. Just you and who is probably the prettiest girl you've ever met scouting a random building for supplies. You got this.

 

She doesn't expect the bard to hook her right arm with her left but hey, she doesn't mind.

 

Just don't look into her beautiful silver eyes and say something embarrassing. Easy.

 

She's so got this.

 

(No, she does not.)

[doberbutts]

I adore the Culture novels by Iain M Banks, and they might fit your preference for speculative fiction with dark elements, but they do definitely contain Content. They're only in book form, at least, so you wouldn't have to worry about adaptations with visuals.

A nice place to start if you enjoy board games is The Player of Games, or you could start out with the first novel Consider Phlebas, if you can get past the gross-out opening.

(If uteruses wig you out, avoid Excession, at least at first. I am wigged out by those themes but found it ok and indeed it's one of my fave books evar, but mileages vary.)

Have you read/seen anything recently that you recommend? After I catch up with Star Trek and poke through transreads dot org, I'm open to new shiny things.

Yes thankfully the only time a book has really gotten to me was King's Dragon, which opens with several chapters of a character in a forced marriage being beaten and raped by her husband every day (dw she kills him and runs away) and I finally had to put the book down when it began describing a brutal and horrific human sacrifice of a human boy/young teen who was clearly autistic (nonverbal, "strange child might be a changeling can't talk to humans but loves animals especially birds", named LACKING, sacrificed because he was a "true innocent") that went on for literally two chapters and I was so disgusted by the end of poor Lacking's death that I had to stop reading entirely. The opening chapters were hard enough to deal with and that sort of thing doesn't usually trigger me (bc she wasn't flailing/screaming), but the descriptions of Lacking's screams and flailing as he was torn to pieces and set on fire... no. I just couldn't.

I was also probably about 13 when I read this so it's possible I could stomach reading it now, but... I really don't want to. I'm no stranger to dark fantasy but that was far more visceral and dark than I could stomach. The series is highly rated, but I couldn't even get halfway through the first book, and I've never put down any other book no matter how much I disliked it.

As far as recent reads? I'm still going through the Witcher books but it's slow going because I never have any time. They are good fun though.

Tamora Pierce's Tempests and Slaughter I've literally owned since it came out and still haven't fully read because I suck lmao and Numair's my favorite character of her Tortall universe so what does that exactly say about me. I do recommend literally any of Pierce's books but keep in mind, some of these books are a bit dated at this point and she was not as knowledgeable about certain things as she is now. That being said, they're great books with strong female protagonists (except for Briar's books and the new Numair series ofc) that discuss some darker elements here and there.

In Viriconium I read in college for my world-building class so not necessarily recent, but it's a nice dark fantasy collection that has grime on the world you can feel.

I do enjoy the Court of Thorns and Roses series but also have to caution, there is a lot of drama surrounding the author and also she kind of sucks at representation. It's been getting better slowly but... only after several fans really pressured her into it. I really like old fairytales/high fae stuff so I'm enjoying it regardless but it certainly is something to keep in mind. I haven't read the most recent book (A Court of Silver Flames) yet but I own and have read the rest. It's on my list to buy later.

Another few that aren't particularly recent: Chris Wooding and Charles de Lint. I've liked all of their stuff but most specifically the Haunting of Alaizabel Cray (Wooding) and Yarrow (de Lint) with close seconds being Storm Thief (Wooding) and Forests of the Heart (de Lint). The Firekeeper series from Jane Lindskold is again a huge favorite of mine that I keep returning to. Juliet Marillier's Child of the Light Isle series (specifically Foxmask). Mel Odom's The Rover and The Destruction of the Books.

Oldies but goodies, and free besides: Applegate's Animorphs series and the Pinis' Elfquest (comic!) series are or at least were both offered free on their websites in entirety and I was very taken with them as a kid.

I've been meaning to get through the remainder of the Redwall books as I've only read the one specifically titled Redwall. I did like specific Pern books though, same as with Maas, there's a lot of drama surrounding Anne McCaffery and, well... let's just say scores of the fandom breathed a sigh of relief when she died. Yeah. It's that bad. Also Pern got really weird the more she wrote of it so be warned.

[dreamlanddoll]

The Isle of Mermaids

Sofia takes Cedric with her on a quest in the Mystic Isles for the first time. The sorcerer is absolutely riveted with excitement, but upon arriving at a certain isle, he receives an unexpected amount of attention he did not prepare for.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“So, are you excited, Mr. Cedric?” 

If it wasn’t already hint enough by how Cedric had been endlessly smiling and bouncing on his heels as he and the princess walked out onto the front steps of the castle, there wasn’t much else he could do but tell her. This was the first time Cedric had ever gotten the privilege of going to the Mystic Isles, and as the magic-loving enthusiast he was, Cedric was ecstatic. 

“Oh, Princess I am more than excited. I’m absolutely riveted!” The sorcerer exclaimed, clasping his hands together and beaming at the thought of getting to explore that glorious manor of magic. “I can’t wait to see all those mystical sights!” He twirled. This was the most excitable and dreamy Sofia has ever seen Cedric act before. It was quite an endearing and humorous thing to witness. The only time that came close that she can recall was when she took him and Calista to see Merlin. 

Cedric went on. “The Isle of fairies, the Isle of Sorcerer’s and OH The Cove of Crystals~!” He rambled on about all the places he was dying to visit, hardly being able to contain his joy. 

Sofia giggled. “Well I’m happy you’re so excited, becauuuseeee-” she drawled, hopping down the stairs and landing in front of the carriage to take them there. Which had no flying horse or coachmen in sight, but instead gave off a reassuring glow, signaling that it was very much enchanted.  “we’re gonna do more than just sight see.” 

Cedric halted beside the carriage beside her looked down at his princess, confused by this new information. “Whatever do you mean?”

Sofia smiled sheepishly. “Welllll I do have a small job I need to do. But it’s okay! That’s why I thought it’d be okay for you to come this time since we’ll have lots of time to sight see. I promise.” The princess explained as Cedric opened the door for her. She hopped inside with him following behind. 

“I trust you, princess. But, just one question.”

Sofia blinked. 

“Don’t you usually take your flying pegasus to the isles?” He asked as the carriage took off.

Sofia groaned, shrugging into herself in embarrassment. “Mom wanted me to start taking the enchanted carriage because she thought it’d be safer than me gallivanting around on a flying pesagus without a saddle and helmet like I do with Minimus.” She explained shamefully, resting her head in her arms on the window. Looking quite glum with this new found restriction on something meant to be an adventure. No doubt if Chrysta saw her riding into HQ on this, she’d never let her live it down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The coach came to a steady sore as it tilted down to land at the entrance to the Isles, prompting both Sofia and Cedric to climb out of the side door of the coach. Immediately, Cedric gasped in amazement the second he and Sofia stepped onto the cloudy surface of the land. His eyes lighting up at all the beautiful blue and purple mist and clouds surrounding them, the energy of never ending magic all around them, the frolicking fae and witches and centaurs around every corner and on every isle. It was all so wonderful and breathtaking, there was not a single place his eyes could stay focused on for more than three seconds because of all that was happening before him. 

“Welp, here we are!” Sofia gestured, allowing Cedric a moment to take in the grandness of the place they were in. She stepped up beside him, placing her hands on her hips. “Whadayya think?”

Cedric’s eyes didn’t cease their wondrous gazing and his huge, dorky smile never faltered. The majesty before them was almost too much joy and brilliance for him to handle. “This is.. the most incredible place I’ve ever seen!” He said as his voice got high in pitch with excitement. He looked up to see a circle of pixies flutter gently down to the crown of his head, placing a multi-coloured flower crown of all different beautiful shades of blues, purples, pinks and yellows on his head.

“Oh, um, th-thank you!” He addressed the fae folk, gingerly touching the grown they graced him with and waving them goodbye as they flew off. They all waved to him as well before giggling and diapering into the clouds. 

The second the pixies left, a familiar voice came up behind Sofia, causing her and Cedric to startle and turn around. 

“Hey Sofia!” Chrysta flew in, a friendly smile on her face at seeing her favourite princess. “This your friend you brought with ya?” She nodded at Cedric.

“Uh huh.” Sofia affirmed with a nod, gesturing to proudly present her royal sorcerer and mentor. “Chrysta, meet Cedric the Sensational.” She grinned, stepping aside. 

Cedric stepped forward, placing a hand on his chest and sticking one hand out for her to shake. “A pleasure to meet you, Chrysta. Forgive me for our first meeting, it wasn’t exactly formal.”

The protector laughed to brush it off, taking his hand to shake. “Hey, don’t worry about it. Sofia’s very important to the both of us.” She threw the princess a wink. Looking back at Cedric, she noticed a certain adoration on top of his head, rousing amusement in the fairie. “I see the pixies have greeted you already.” 

“Hm?” Cedric puzzled at first, but once he noticed that Chrysta had been eyeing higher up on his head, he remembered the flowered decoration the pixies gifted to him just a minute ago. Feeling embarrassed, a hot blush rushed to the sorcerer’s cheeks as he quickly swiped the crown from off his head, chuckling and folding it into his pocket for safe keeping.

Chrysta still had a smirk on her face along with crossed arms, looking over her shoulder she noticed something quite different about the young protectors choice to transportation here. “Sofia, don’t you usually use Skye to get here?” She asked, turning back to the princess with a quizzical look.

Now it was Sofia’s turn to be embarrassed. “I really don’t wanna talk about it.”

“Well good, because we don’t really have time. We need to get you two to the Isle of Mermaids, stat. As far as we know they’re the only ones with the starfish key we need to open the Chest of Miracles.” Chrysta said, checking her enchantlet. 

“Right. We can get there fast.” Sofia reassured, suddenly hardening her tone to let Chrysta know that she meant business.

“Good.” The fairie replied, then turned to Cedric with a smug grin. “Think you can handle it, Royal Sorcerer?”

Cedric scoffed. “I’m sure I can handle a few fish-tailed ladies that spend their day splashing about in the water.” 

“Great!” Chrysta clapped her hands together and began to usher to two back into the carriage. “Check in with me once you’ve got the key, then you can use your enchantlet to transfer it over to me where I’ll be at HQ. Okay, Sofia?” 

“Okay, it’ll be done in no time.” She said confidently as Chrysta continued to push them. 

“Good, now let’s get a move on you two!” She proclaimed, shoving the princess and the sorcerer into the carriage and slamming the door before either of them could get another word out, and smacking the side of the enchanted vehicle to let it take off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What exactly is the Chest of Miracles, Sofia?” Cedric inquired to the princess sitting across from him. 

“Well,” Sofia started, bringing up her enchantlet to her chin and pressing down on the middle with her finger. The whip extended to create a circle between the two, showing them an image of a jewel-encrusted golden chest with an enchanted lock that looked like it was made of steal iron. It was decorated with rubies, emeralds, diamonds, sapphires, you name it. The sight in a mere picture was almost too much for ones eyes to handle. 

“It’s a magical chest that when you open it, it will grant you one wish and one wish only, so powerful that it can’t be reversed by any magic at all.” Sofia tapped her enchantlet, bringing up another image of a couple of regular looking goons, though clearly native to the Mystic Isles. “There’s been a couple of bad elves after it recently. And before we go looking for them we have to ensure that every single key is safe and locked away where nobody can find them. There’s one key on every isle, but they are incredibly hard to find because they only surface every 10 years.” She took the image down, putting her hand back to her side. 

Cedric rubbed his chin, absorbing all that the Princess had explained to him. “Oh my, seems like quite the event to keep track of.”

Sofia nodded. “It is.” Her eyes shifted to the side and upon looking outside the window, she gasped. “We’re here!” She exclaimed as the coach landed on the sandy and rocky surface of the Isle of Mermaids. Sofia sprung up from her seat and flung the door open, dashing outside to the front of what appeared to be a seaweed door. Covering the entrance to the rocky cove, there was a curtain of multiple thick and long strands of seaweed, decorated with seashells and conch shells and starfish in a prettily detailed pattern. 

“Whoa.” Sofia marveled at the display as Cedric strolled up behind her, who was also taking in the aesthetically pleasing sight.

The princess turned to Cedric, putting up a hand to prevent him from going any further. “I’ll go in first, just to make sure it’s safe.” She walked ahead, ignoring Cedric cry out- “W-wait, Sofia!” -out of fear she might get into some kind of trouble that he’d be deemed responsible for. 

Sofia had slightly peeled the seaweed curtains back and slipped in as to not cause too much disturbance. Her eyes widened at the pretty sight of the cove, the weaving and bending isles of crystal white and purple rock pillars stood proud and tall with bunches of sparkling barnacles gathering at their bases. Beneath Sofia’s boots were purple sands, almost identical to the sand in the Dancing Dessert. 

The cove was packed with mermaids, much to Sofia’s luck and surprise. There were so many. Some chatting, some playing and splashing about, some napping on the sandy shore, and some doing their hair and makeup while they rested on rock peaks. All completely unaware of anything going on around them. Oh boy, it was going to be hard to even get their attention. 

“Um.. e-excuse me?” Sofia quipped, but no avail. 

“Excuse me!” She said a little louder. The mermaids just kept socializing. 

Sofia puffed her cheeks, reckoning she’d have to be louder if she ever wanted this to get anywhere. “EXCUSE ME!” She shouted, which took enough energy from her to turn her normally pink-ish cheeks a brilliant red of frustration.

Silence fell over the gaggle of fish girls, they all turned their heads to the source of their disturbance. Sofia was expecting a backlash of annoyed mermaid folk, but instead was met with a wave of pleasant gasps. 

“A visitor!!!’ They all cheered, swimming up to Sofia like excited newly adopted puppy-dogs. 

Taken aback by the sudden attention, the princess stepped back. “Um.. hi!” Sofia waved, trying her best to just smile cutely and be polite. If she wanted to find that key, she’d have to win her way too it. 

“Hi!” One mermaid with red hair replied gushingly. 

“Aren’t you one of the protectors?” A curly black-haired mermaid with a navy blue tail asked eagerly. 

“Yes, actually.” She replied, attempting to make pleasantries. “I’m Princess Sofia, the Mystic Isle’s first human protector.” She stated proudly, making a heroic stance, which only fueled the mermaids’ excitement.

“A PRINCESS?!” They all gawked, swimming even closer, crowding around the little girl.  

“How many crowns do you own?” One chimed. 

“How much are your dresses?” One chirped. 

Unsure how to respond, Sofia backed up as a swarm of chatter and inquires continued to fire at her at once, overwhelmed by all the sudden questions. “Um...”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

From the other side of the seaweed, Cedric had been nervously biting his nails. Wondering what was taking Sofia so long. He had been pacing, looking at the floor and giving the curtain the occasional worried glance. 

“Oh... what is that girl doing in there?” He muttered, concern greatly affecting his every emote. 

What if they weren’t any help at all? What if they were just being rude? What if they were actually bad mermaids? WHAT IF THEY TRIED TO DROWN HER???

It only took a few minutes for the worries and doubts to build up inside of the sorcerer before he couldn’t take it anymore. “That’s it!” Cedric stopped, stepping up to the door of green strings and puffing out his chest. “I’m going in there.” He declared, drawing out his wand. 

Throwing back the curtain dramatically, which was very opposite to the approach Sofia had tried to take earlier, he stepped inside the cove and called out, “Sofia! Are you alright? What is going on in here?” 

The giggling of the mermaids stopped, being caught by the attention of the new arrival in their midst. Their gazes completely going past the princess and now landing on the tall sorcerer. They unanimously scanned him up and down as Sofia talked. 

“Mr. Cedric, I’m okay, they're actually really nice! They’re... just-”

“A BOY?!” The mermaids squealed in unison, their tails excitedly flipping up in sync. 

“Wha- AH!” Before Cedric had time to react, he felt himself being pulled by his arm down to right where the shore met the water. Before he knew it, or could really register what was going on, he was suddenly surrounded by a flock of doey-eyed fish tailed maidens as the new specimen of their attention. 

“He’s so cute~!” A blonde one in the back cooed, making a shy blush creep onto Cedric’s pale cheeks. He can’t remember the last time he’s ever been called ‘cute’ completely unprompted. 

“We never get any boys here in the cove.” One sighed, looking up and resting her cheek on her arm that was resting on the sand beside his leg. Tracing patterns in the sand with her finger.

“Guys, look at his hair!” A pretty red head reached forward to feel the tips of Cedric’s silvery bangs, to which he sputtered and stumbled back. 

Cedric shook his head, almost certain he had just gotten whiplash from all the tugging and fawning he had just received. He wasn’t used to being so doted on, let alone by a dozen or so pretty mermaids. “I-I-I do apologize ladies, but the Princess and I are in a bit of a-”

“Are you a sorcerer?” The black-haired mermaid swam forward, intrigued by the wand he had currently in his hands possession. 

“Hm?” Cedric directed his attention to where the mermaid had been gazing dreamily, realizing he had been up in arms with his greatest magical tool this whole time. “Oh, um..” he then looked around at the array of adoring faces awaiting for his response. In all honesty it kind of unsettled and yet.. it also flattered him. He would be lying if he told himself that he wouldn’t perhaps enjoy indulging in this sort of attention, just a little. 

“I-I am.” He stated, though that statement was true, he still seeming a little confused and frazzled. However, that response alone was enough to make the mergirls squeal with excitement. 

“Can you show us some tricks?” The blonde one spoke up.

“Oh, well, um, I-I don’t think we really have the ti-” 

“Where’d you get your wand?” The red head intervened.

“That’s actually a funny story! You see I-”

The loud throat-clearing of the princess alerted Cedric to not continue with his story unless they wanted to be there all day. 

“Mr. Cedric, I don’t think we have time for that.” She pointed to her enchantlet, tapping it as if it were a watch. 

Cedric nodded at Sofia, affirming his dedication to get this over with. However, the attention of a particularly bold mermaid caught Cedric’s eye back. A brunette with a dark purple tail swam up to the shore and leaned forward to Cedric on her elbows. “So, Mr. Cedric, do you swim at all~?” She drawled in a sultry manner as she looked up at him through lidded eyes and a confident curl of her lips. This caused a rupture of giggles and whispering from her mermaid companions. In Cedric, it caused what he was sure was the fieriest blush he’s ever felt in his life rise up in his cheeks, knowing he was definitely beat red by now. Not to mention the spike his blood pressure went through at hearing that comment. 

Sofia sighed, lowering her head in defeat. At this rate, she wasn’t gonna get anywhere in finding that key. Not with these mermaids short attention spans. 

The sound of water swishing by the princess’s feet startled her, casing her to turn her head to the water where a “Pstt, hey, Princess!” had sounded. 

Sofia spotted that curly black haired mermaid, who must’ve slipped from the crowd among noticing her distraught. “Is there something you need, honey?” 

The protector smiled in relief, rushing up to the coast line and kneeling down to meet at eye-level with the mermaid.  

“Yes, do you think you can help me?” She asked.

The mermaid chuckled, waving a hand. “Oh of course I can, sugar! You’ll have to excuse me and the girls this whole time, we’re very...” she and Sofia looked over at the rest of her merfriends, who were still gushing over the very frazzled sorcerer, keeping him knelt at the shoreline as one reached up to tuck a lavender sea flower in his hair over top of his ear. They all squealed and giggled at how cute he looked with it.

“distracted easily.” She shook her head, turning her attention back to the princess. 

Sofia giggled at the wholesome sight. “That’s okay.” She turned back to the mermaid. “I’m just glad you’re here now. Do you think you can help me find this?” She lifted up her enchantlet, tapping it to let the whip form it’s image-creating loop, manifesting the sight of a large, sky blue key with an orange starfish that made of the end of the handle. There was a large red jewel installed in the starfish's center, and tiny diamonds aligned the length of the key. “It’s the starfish key, it’s supposed to help open an enchanted chest that needs to be protected.”

The mermaid brightened with familiarity at the sight of the image, straightening up and flipping her tail. “Well why didn’t you say so? I’ll go get it for you!” In a flash, the mermaid dove off back into the water, causing some droplets to splash into Sofia’s face. 

Sofia coughed, wiping the water off her cheeks as she contemplated how easy that was. Well, she supposed it wasn't all that easy. Getting the mermaids to even focus on one thing for long was a challenge on it’s own, but the princess was at least expecting some kind of fight to be put up since what she was asking for was very important. Though, she supposed since she was recognized as a protector, she did have some authority in this realm.

In a mere minute, the mermaid popped back up out of the water, giving the princess a warm smile. Sofia returned her expression and eagerly leaned in as the mermaid had lifted one hand out if the water to reveal the long awaited starfish key exact to the one in the picture. “Is this what you’re looking for, sweet pea?” She drawled, handing the key to the princess. 

“Yes.” Sofia nodded, looking down at the object in her hands. It was a lot more glow-y than in the picture, a gold aura quickly seeped out from it once it hit the air. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime!” The fish lady chirped. “My name’s Quinta, by the way.” She affirmed, resting a hand on her chest to gesture towards herself. 

“Sofia.” The princess stood up to curtsy, addressing herself in return. Then, with key in hand, she turned to Cedric and waved it in the air. “Mr. Cedric!” She called, cupping one hand to her mouth to overpower the noise of the giggling and inquiries of the other mermaids that were still flocked around him. 

The sorcerer’s attention was quickly caught, he turned his head to the princess and beamed, standing up to signal that he was ready to go. “Oh thank goodness you found it!” He exclaimed, a little relived. 

“Actually, it was Quinta.” Sofia smiled, nodding over the the mermaid beside her. She waved at Cedric, who in return waved back.

Sofia rushed up to the sorcerer, tugging on his robe sleeve. “Come on, we have to get this back to HQ.” 

“Right.” Cedric nodded, about to bid the mermaids a polite goodbye. He was interrupted by the feeling of a hand reach out and grab his, tugging gently on his arm. He looked down to see the pleading eyes of the red haired mermaid, along with her other now sad-faced friends crowding in closer to the shore. 

“Do you have to go?” The redhead whined cutely, sticking out her bottom lip. 

“Uh...” Cedric panicked, looking fearfully at all the pouting lips and pleading gazes, afraid of upsetting them he was unsure how to answer. 

Sofia sighed, knowing there’s no way that Cedric, being the kind of person he was, still a little afraid of disappointing people, stepped in to help him. “I’m sorry, but we really have to go. It’s important for the Mystic Isles.” She stood in between the mermaids and her sorcerer, separating them.

“Awwwwww.” The mermaids cried in unison, their shoulders slumping and their expressions dropping. 

“But don’t worry, we’ll probably be coming back at some point!” Sofia chimed, trying to instill a bit of hopefulness into the group as she began to usher Cedric out of the cove, very similarly to how Chrysta had been doing to them earlier when getting them into the coach.

“Hmm, okay!” One chirped hopefully, reaching up to wave the two goodbye. “Bye Princess! Bye Cedric!” 

“Yeah, bye you two!” Another jumped in.

“Hope to see you guys soon!” The blonde called. 

Sofia and Cedric waved politely as they continued to make their way out, looking over their shoulders and at the mermaids briefly before turning around and pulling back the seaweed curtain. Cedric had offered for Sofia to go first, lifting the ocean veil for her, the princess smiled up at him and just before completely disappearing, turned back over her shoulder to see that Quinta was still there, giving Sofia a grin and waving goodbye as well. Sofia smiled back to silently thank her for all her help, and left with her sorcerer.

“Well, that was...” Cedric commented, not really sure how to continue with that as they both walked to the coach. On one hand, the mermaids were incredibly lovely and friendly, but on the other hand, it was all so sudden and quick that he wondered if it even actually happened.

Sofia giggled. “Interesting.” She finished the statement for him, stopping by the coach as Cedric opened the door for her. “Very interesting.” She hopped inside.

“Yes, I should say so, Princess.” Cedric agreed, still in between a state of contentment and confusion, stepping into the coach behind her. 

The princess let out another chortle, hiding her grin behind her hand as she had noticed something... new about Cedric when she sat across from him. Much to his further confusion. 

“What? What is it now?” He panicked. 

Sofia pointed to the side of her head, just above her ear. “I like your flower.” She teased, making Cedric’s hand fly up to his hair. He ruffled around up there with an embarrassed blush before pulling out the flora from his locks and holding it in front of his face. 

“Oh what is with this place and putting flowers on me?” He grumbled, stuffing that flower into his other pocket. 

Sofia grinned cheekily. “I thought it looked cute.” 

Cedric crossed his arms and sat back in his seat, feigning a grumpy facade that hadn’t fooled the princess in years. She knew he fully intended to keep that flower, and the crown he was gifted. 

As the coach continued to sore through the air, it went off to take them to the next Isle. Their journey here only beginning. 

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship (4): The Gargoyle Graveyard

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Author note: Again, thank you all for being patient with me and I apologize for having a very inconsistent writing schedule. I'm going to make it my goal to update on a bi weekly basis instead of leaving you all in silent limbo. Also a reminder I suck at figuring out which warnings to put so if there's something that needs to be forewarned that I failed to disclose please lmk!

Warnings: Mentions of heavy bodily injuries | childhood trauma/neglect | discussions/mentions of discrimination | mentions of virginity/sexual history

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AO3 version

Clay. Stone. Porcelain. Plaster. Metal. There are even gargoyles carved entirely of wood! Some statues are stand-alone works of art while others are part of a clear collection or series of similar inspiration. They even come in all sorts of shapes and sizes; as small as an apple or a towering height to rival Malleus himself. No matter what, each grotesque has been crafted with the utmost consideration, by well seasoned and knowing hands. Even the ones that have clear defects and cannot serve their intended purpose are free of overabundant ivy, weeds, or dust. There’s a clear degree of love and care the family who makes these statues has for their craft that makes him feel less alone in his interest in an uncherished form of art.

“It should be around here somewhere,” you muse aloud. Ever since he expressed interest in seeing more sculptures made with non-traditional materials, you’ve been keeping your eye out for a particular one that would fulfill his yearning. You eventually find it and eagerly point to it. “There it is!”

Malleus watches as you approach a massive-sized statue covered with a thick and half-wet tarp. He helps you remove the cover, revealing a winged and slightly humanoid canine. There are many more grotesques with a similar design, but what makes this one stand out the most is the material it’s made out of.

“Amazing!” Malleus awes. “I’ve never seen a grotesque of this size made entirely of glass! They’ve even managed to maintain their attention to detail despite such an abnormal material choice.”

“You can even see the inner channel where the water would flow in and redirect out of its mouth,” you notice.

“They even went out of their way to make it functional despite it being unfit for actual installation?” Malleus inquires with disbelief. “Such a shame.”

“If you’re looking to buy anything here, I’m afraid it's a lost cause. One of the first warnings the grandfather gave me is that none of these are for sale.”

“What was his second warning?”

“If we damage anything, even as small as a scratch, he’ll kill us.”

“How charming,” he chuckles. “I cannot blame him. These statues must take weeks to complete. Time is a human’s greatest enemy.”

“For some, sure. But when I went to visit the family and talked to the old man, he was lunging around all this heavy equipment like he was still in his prime,” you recall. “He lives for his craft. If there’s anything humans are at risk of their entire lives, it’s a lack of motivation and reason to live.”

“I suppose that’s true, but the lifespan of humans and the inevitable effects of aging is difficult to live with, especially once it begins to hinder one’s ability to do what one could previously do without issue. ”

“You’re not wrong,” you acknowledge. “But I think I’d rather live a short life with fulfillment than a dull, long-as-shit life.”

To show that he’s entirely on your side, Gunter lets out a guttural bark while his tail rapidly wags and thumps the damp ground, coating the ends of his bushy tail in specs of dirt and dirtied, remnant snow of the north that has managed to stay frozen on the isles warmer south end.

“You’re only agreeing with them because you’ve been promised food,” Malleus chastises. “Don’t think I didn’t pick up on your grumbling stomach.”

“And don't think I didn't pick up on your stomach rumbling either your highness," you quip back at him. "The family has a small cottage nearby we can use. We'll settle down for a bit and eat before sightseeing some more."

Before you turn and walk in the direction towards the aforementioned lodgings, you reach your hand out for Malleus to take and he latches onto you with restrained enthusiasm. He's taller than you, but he takes care not to take his normal strides as to not leave you struggling to keep up with him. Gunter doesn't know the way, so he trots beside you every step of the way up until the destination is in plain view. The cottage is small but well-attended. There’s a rustic flair to its construction that makes it feel familiar and safe despite never stepping foot in it before.

"Those gargoyles were something, huh?" you remark to him while you tap and shake off the gunk wedged into the soles of your heavy boots against the frame of the door.

"Indeed," he nods, taking your cloak off for you and hanging it on the wooden rack nearby. "I don't think I've ever seen that many gargoyles in one day. Just when my eyes land upon an intriguing one, there's several more that catch my attention."

The way he gets all wide-eyed is outright adorable. It makes you grin just as enthusiastically too. "I bet your club is going to have a field day once you tell them about this!"

His child-like smile turns into one of disappointment. "I'm certain they would, if I wasn't the sole member that is."

Your hands halt from pulling out and setting down all the premade food out of your pack. "Seriously? You're the only one?"

When he nods his head, you feel a twinge of hurt in your heart. Poor guy. You can only imagine how disappointing it must be to go through all those lengths to start a club (you would know since you're technically a staff member of the school and have been given a rundown on some of the school's functions and regulations) only for no one to show interest. Of course, you completely understand that gargoyles aren't exactly all the rage within the minds of teenage boys. Still! He goes through so much effort to build relationships with his peers but they always cower away, either due to his status or even because of the way he looks. You won’t deny that he does come off as rather intimidating at first glance, but he's a sweet guy once you give him the chance to speak.

But to expect teenagers going through social pressures and demanding academics to be as understanding and willing to understand someone like Malleus is an impossible demand. Given that everyone in the school can be a bunch of self-centered and easily agitated bunch of pricks, it's understandable that most of the student body isn't keen on trying to take into consideration the proper etiquette one needs to consider in the presence of a young and noble fae. Deuce has met and talked briefly with Malleus on one occasion, but even he visibly shakes whenever his name is mentioned, even in casual passing.

Wait until they found out who you've gone and gotten buddy-buddy with behind their back. They probably think they're slick or that their intentions are well swept under the rug, but it's clear they feel some semblance of responsibility for your well-being, as both a magicless individual as well as a close, albeit older, friend. You dread the day people begin to make the connections between Malleus and you, but you still can’t help but wonder what their reactions might be. You also dread the high probability those two idiots are going to find out and embarrass the living hell out of you, which you know you do not have the patience or tolerance for.

Gunter jumps up and sits himself down in one of the wooden dining chairs, pushing the small ceramic plate towards you with his nose, as if telling you "Alright, I’ve done what I said I'd do, now feed me what I'm owed." You tell him that you'll give him what he's well earned after you get a small fire started in the brick fireplace. Just because it's warmer near the southern half of the island and not as heavily blanketed with snow, doesn't mean the cold has completely vanished, Winter is still winter after all.

"Where did these scars come from?"

Malleus' unexpected question and closeness nearly make you drop the iron rod you've been using to stoke the growing fire. You've since taken off your boots and rolled up the bottoms of your pants just above your knee as the room starts to warm up enough for a thin layer of perspiration to accumulate and roll down your skin. The scars he's referring to are the ones on your right leg, both side by side at an awkward angle and discolored. You have a lot more scars than these, some much more gruesome in appearance than these two. Malleus has never asked about your scars, but sometimes you catch him looking in the general area of some that peak through your clothes. He likely keeps quiet about their existence out of courtesy.

Yet out of all the markings on your body, why did these two stand out enough that he'd finally ask about them?

"It's a long story," you say in an effort to stall the topic. "Sit. I'll feed you two once the fire is stable."

He doesn’t push you for an answer, instead simply doing as you say and lets you poke at the burning logs until they're properly aflame on their own. You made mostly some of your morning favorites; Creamy and thick potato stew with diced carrots and peas and some eggs, ham, and crispy hash browns sandwich between homemade halved croissants. You teased him about having picky taste buds earlier, but Malleus is content to eat anything you serve him so long as it is not comparable to the likes of Lilia's atrocious cooking.

(Seriously, how does a man as old as Lilia not know the basic fundamentals of cooking? And why does everything he makes end up burnt and tasting like something rotten? You will never understand.)

"Don't eat too quickly," you warn Gunter as you pour a bit of light-colored soup onto his designated plate. Your words are ignored, as the equally marred wolf sloppily slurps and munches on the few bits of potatoes and vegetables you generously scraped out of the thermos. His food is gone as quickly as it’s put in front of him and he looks at you expecting more.

"No. The rest is mine," you scold. "And don't beg Malleus for some either! I know you do it behind my back, you little shit!"

He turns to look at Malleus with an accusatory glare, thinking that he ratted him out to you. Malleus’s response towards the silent imputation is to turn and look out the window as if something caught his interest all of a sudden, cup raised to his lips as he politely sips away at his meal without an air of calmness. You have to slap a hand over your mouth to hide the amusement that overtakes your senses.

"Malleus, stop that!"

"Stop what?" he innocently asks.

"Stop making me want to laugh!"

He sets his cup down onto its matching serving dish. "It's not my fault you have an easily satiable sense of humor."

"Wow!" you say incredulously and put your arms up in offense. "And here I was thinking we were friends!"

His distant demeanor breaks and you both devolve into a fit of laughter together. Gunter unfortunately takes advantage of your joint distraction and slips away with a warm sandwich between his jaw, your sandwich in particular.

"That damn wolf!" you curse. "I knew I should have trusted my gut and pack extras.”

Malleus pities your distress before moving over to sit closer. "Worry not. I'll split mine in half with you,” he reassures.

"No, it's fine," you immediately dismiss his offer. "Have it for yourself."

"I'm not taking no for an answer," he firmly states. “Don’t be stubborn. It’s far too early for that.”

"I thought you liked it when I was stubborn?” you pout.

He shakes his head with a smile. “I would be lying if I said I didn’t”

"At least someone likes my attitude,” you say after chewing and swallowing a mouthful of soup. “Sebek certainly doesn’t."

"The boy is stubborn as well. When two equally stubborn individuals cross paths, you will witness nothing but discord between the two."

"Add the fact I'm human into the mix, and we'll be exchanging fists instead of words sooner or later," you scoff. "I get that some faes don't like humans, but what's his deal with acting like he’s got a vendetta against me?"

"Sebek doesn't hate humans for the reasons you might think," Malleus admits. "It’s more like he finds them difficult to think that highly of. Did you know that he is half-human?"

You nearly choke on your own breath over the sudden revelation. "Really?"

"Indeed," Malleus finds amusement at your disbelief. "Have you ever wondered why his ears aren't pointed like Silver, but his eyes are like mine and Lilia’s?"

"Damn,” you scratch the back of your head with embarrassment. “Now I feel stupid.”

"You aren't. Given the way he speaks, not many would assume he had human blood in his veins. His mother was highly regarded within her social circle, but her marriage to a human man tarnished her reputation a great deal. She's happy and does not seem to care what others think of her these days. However, when Sebek set out to be a knight, his mother's marriage and his lineage were often brought up as a way to scrutinize his character and capabilities rather than any of his actual shortcomings as an individual."

"Poor kid," you sigh. "Lilia told me those sorts of things still happen in The Valley, but it sounds so outlandish that I couldn’t take it that seriously."

"Many faes hold old traditions above all else, to a degree that the purity of one's blood stands above all other merits." His eyebrows pressed together in annoyance. "Even my grandmother thinks it's archaic, but as the reigning queen she has to embody a persona of neutrality between the social divide."

"It sounds like you have your work cut out for you in the future," you say, almost apologetically. "What do you plan to do about it once you're the king?"

There's a brief flash of surprise over your question, but Malleus easily answers it as usual. "I think my first course of action as king would be to properly knight Sebek and Silver."

"Bet my rifle that Sebek is going to cry the entire ceremony!" you remark with certainty. "That's all he ever goes on about, being a knight and all."

"He's devoted countless hours and efforts since he was a child. If there's anyone who deserves to join the knighthood, it's him."

"Definitely," you nod to further cement your agreement with him. "He could stand to lower his voice a bit. He'll give you tinnitus before long.”

"At least we won't have to worry about losing him in a crowd," Malleus jests.

"That's to say we'll lose sight of him to begin with," you remark. "He'll gladly lose me in a crowd. You? You'd be lucky to get out of arm's length."

"You underestimate me, dearest," Malleus smirks. "Ever since I've met you, I've perfected the art of avoiding Sebek's insistent searches."

"Have you now?" you razz back. "Don't let him catch onto the fact. He'll have my head."

He reaches over and tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. Each second his skin touches yours makes you tingle. Time slows down ever so briefly if only to savor the small instance of physical connection for as long as possible. "What of your aunts?" he inquires. "Are they as overprotective of you as Sebek is of myself?"

"They’re a trio of mama bears," you proudly admit. "I'm old enough to drink and well equipped to fend for myself, but in their minds, I'll always be the little tyke that couldn't even eat their meals without looking at them for approval. Especially my aunt Gia."

You have three aunts. There's your aunt Marisol, the mother of most of your cousins and the main caretaker of the household. Your second aunt Lucia was well into her studies at university when you came to live with them, but her stress and long hours of mulling over her course materials paid off in the long run. Your gardening skills wouldn't be what they are now without her expertise in agricultural botany.

Then there's your aunt Gia. Oldest of the three. An absolute tank of a woman. No spouse. No kids of her own. She lived off the land like an absolute titan. The woman raised you as if she was the one that carried you for nine months and not your actual birth mother.

How would you describe your parents? If your parents were told to list out their priorities in life, their careers would be at the top of the list and you would be put at the very bottom. Why they carried you to term is beyond your understanding. You later learned that Gia had even offered to take you under her care well before your birth, knowing that your parents might not be well-suited to take care of you in the way she thinks would be beneficial for you. It was a convenient offer that would have saved everyone the trouble years down the line when you had your accident. They worked in a cutthroat industry and were constantly moving up the executive echelons. They had no time for you, yet their pride as a pair of young, successful business magnates made them incapable of seeing past the reality of the situation. That left you mostly in the care of last-minute caretakers and your aunts, but only if they had time from their own busy and preoccupied lives to come out into the city and visit.

You were eight years old when things started to get better, but it was upstarted in the worst possible way. Your parents had to go away for the upcoming weekend for work and left you in the care of a babysitter as per the norm. The babysitter never showed up however and your parents apparently couldn’t be bothered to check up on you even once the entire trip. Their silence wasn’t surprising. You just went on about your business for the next three days on your own like nothing was wrong. Your aunt Gia had even called at one point to check up on you, but you didn’t bother to tell her that your parents had left you to fend for yourself. She would have exploded if you did, but not as much as she did when you woke up in the hospital after falling down the stairs and lying helplessly on the ground for several hours with a dislocated shoulder and a compound-fractured leg. You were lulling in and out of consciousness due to all the medication pumped into you, but what little you do remember seeing and hearing when you regained consciousness will forever stick with you for the rest of your life.

If people think your level of swearing is bad, they should have heard your aunt that day. She swore so viciously that it could set an innocent bystander's eardrums on fire. What will forever stand out the most to you was the fact that your parents didn’t even look the least bit apologetic or regretful. They didn’t even approach you once your aunt was done giving them a piece of her mind to check up on you. They simply talked with the awaiting social worker and doctors and then left. It was for the better, but the small part of you that continued to hold onto the desperate belief that your parents would come around one day sent you into a thrashing frenzy and you had to be sedated before you could hurt yourself anymore.

The next year was spent recovering from your injuries, meeting regularly with your caseworker, and going through therapists like a pack of cigarettes. By the time you were back on your feet and the legal proceedings of your custody case were concluded, all you wanted was to move on with it all. Nearly a decade of neglect left you this unattentive, uncertain husk of a person who couldn’t take a single step forward without looking for some sort of guidance or assurance. Your family was exhausted by the entire ordeal and over speaking with third parties. Your aunts took it upon themselves to help you regain your sense of self in the comfort of your new home, no matter how difficult or demanding it was going to be.

“It took some time, but eventually it clicked in my mind that I was in a better place and I started to get better. As for my parents, I have no clue what they’re up to these days.” You lean back into your chair and let out a shaking yawn. “I like to think they’re getting on well like I am.”

“I don’t understand.” Malleus looks at you with unbelievable confusion. “Your parents treated you poorly, yet you don’t sound the least bit resentful. Why is that?”

You shrug your shoulders. “What’s the point? I'm in a better place now, so I've let bygones be bygones. 'Doesn't mean I don't harbor any anger against them anymore. I do, but getting upset won't change what's happened to me."

Gunter, having sensed your discomfort over the matter, trots over and rests his head on your lap. You gratefully rub the top of his head, carding your hands through his thick, coarse hair. "I'm just glad they let me go without a fuss. Family court was hell for my family.” Your eyebrows knit together. “Expensive too.”

Crackling wood fills the momentary silence that befalls the small cottage. What you've recollected to Malleus is a lot to take in, and if you're being quite honest you'd prefer if he just dropped the subject and talked about literally anything else right now. You hope he doesn't say he's sorry or any other type of apologetic comment. That's all you were ever told that entire year it all happened, during court proceedings, your rehabilitation, by both strangers and distant family members alike.

"I'm so sorry. What happened to you was unfortunate. You didn't deserve it."

No shit you didn't deserve any of that. You were a kid. You don’t need one pity party after another to realize that what took place then had fucked you forever. But as you said earlier, you're in a better place now, with a loving and supportive family that's moved on alongside you. A family you need to get back to as soon as possible.

"I love you."

Well, if he was hoping to take your mind off the past. that certainly did it. How can it not? It came out of nowhere and as good as you are at holding your composure when need be, you're sure you look no less like a gaping fish when warm and plush softness presses right against the corner of your lips. A kiss. His kiss.

"What's wrong?" Your voice sounds shaky. You’re nervous.

"Nothing," he smiles reassuringly. "I simply said what I felt needed to be said."

"Fair enough" you concede easily. He was going to say it sooner or later. He already has actually, now that you think about it. Yet here you are trying to process his words like it’s rocket science.

"Am I going about this too fast perhaps?" he genuinely asks. His hands that have been busy massaging your calves that have settled across his lap somewhere during your long retelling gradually slow down, but his hands never go completely still. "This is my first time experiencing something like this."

"What?" You sit up a bit straighter. "A relationship?"

"Yes."

Your head tilts to the side. "Really?"

He nods hesitantly "Yes?"

For a moment, you go completely quiet. "I don't believe you,” you doubtfully say, head shaking to further showcase your refusal to believe him.

He must not have liked your remark, frowning with clear offense in his eyes. When he dislikes something, the vertical slits in his eyes contract into a thin line. "I cannot lie, yet you still doubt me?"

"I know you can't lie, but I find it hard to believe you haven't been with anyone else before," you explain. Before you can consider the appropriateness that was your newfound curiosity about Malleus's apparently non-existent love life, you blurt out, "Are you still a virgin?"

You slap your hand over your mouth the moment those words come out of it. He's equally caught off guard and nearly drops his warm cup of coffee. Even Gunter is surprised by your question, olive-colored eyes looking at you as if you've lost your mind. It's an invasive question, inappropriate even. You and Malleus have been dating for a little over two days. A question like that is way too early to bring up just yet.

"You don't have to answer that," you tell him behind your palm. "I shouldn't have even asked it. Forget I ever brought it up-”

"I'm not," he interrupts you, leaving you even more shocked than you already are. You’re practically gaping like a fish by now. "I'm not a virgin,” he further insinuates.

A deafening silence, but it’s eventually broken by yourself. “I still don’t believe you.”

Malleus gets further annoyed at your refusal to accept his truth. "I'm not lying!" he insists.

"Bullshit!"

"Do you want me to recount my history to you?" he asks, exasperated as you are at the shift the conversation is taking. "Will that satisfy your doubts?"

"You know what? It will!" you loudly declare. "Who'd you sleep with?"

"He was a young page at the time,” he reminisced. “It happened before I was a century old.”

Your eyebrows raise with intrigue. "Was he cute?"

"Yes," he hushedly agrees. The disconcerting admittance paints his face a pinkish-red glow. "But that's not why I bedded him."

"But surely his looks are what made you interested in the first place?” you make blatant regard of the fact.

“You’re not wrong,” he acknowledges, expertly avoiding agreeing with you outright. “But his looks aren't the sole reason I was drawn to him. He was bright-eyed and ambitious, to the point you’d think him insane given his position in the court. It was also the first time I ever truly met with a group of humans, and my young mind was eager to get a more accurate perspective of humans that wasn’t through the lens of my tutors.”

“An ‘accurate perspective’?” You make playful air quotes, eyebrows wiggling because you know the fact that he knows what you’re implying. The playful comment is met with a sharp pinch on your leg that makes you jump and shriek out in pain. Did he have to dig his nails into you? Apparently so, and now you have small crescent indents on your skin. “I bet Lilia had a good laugh when he found out.”

“He doesn’t know, actually,” he admits to you with what is obviously a proud smile.

“Now I know you’re lying to me,” you scoff. “Nothing escapes the old man’s radar.”

His hands begin to rub out the marks he’s left on you as a form of apology. “Lilia is sharp, but he had lost most of his vigor by the time I was born.”

You go wide-eyed again. “You mean his hearing and eyesight was better than it is now?”

He nods affirmatively. “From what I’ve been told, terrifyingly so.”

Lilia is already frightening as is. His short stature and boyish looks make him perfectly unassuming to those who don’t know any better. You once watched him beat up a couple of bulky, twice-his-height students from Savanaclaw without breaking a sweat, yet moments before he was jokingly scolding himself for dozing off so easily. You never once thought he was ever out of his elements. A cold chill runs down your spine thinking how much more perceptive the older fae may have been back during his prime years.

“Wonder what Lilia’s gonna think,” you ponder out loud in a quick effort to banish out the skin-prickling mental imagery your mind was invoking. “About us, I mean.”

Malleus seems surprised that you would change the topic to that of all things, but his initial shock goes away as quickly as it came. “As you may have guessed, he’s an open-minded individual, but he’s also very realistic and unafraid to say what’s on his mind.”

“So what does that mean for you and me?” you question with a bit of hesitation.

“Well,” he trails off and ponders for a moment. “He’ll surely like the scandal our relationship would invoke. However, as my caretaker and mentor, he won’t hesitate to put an end to it if he feels it necessary.”

Had it been anyone else sitting beside you, you’d have found that comment way too extreme and outright ridiculous. However, you are not speaking to anyone ordinary. You are not sitting before someone normal. It doesn't matter how well you get along with him. It sure as hell doesn't matter how deeply in love you are with him, and him of you. The moment you have been deemed a shortcoming, the outings, the closeness, it all stops. All of it will come crashing down and both you and him will be left wondering what could have been done differently.

Malleus is truly your best friend, because already he can tell that your mind is beginning to spiral even when you go quiet. He calls for your attention by gripping his hand around your bare ankle and carefully tugging the end of your limb. “Don’t fret over it too much,” he soothes, yet also sounding like he’s scolding you for letting your mind wander off so negatively. “Lilia is an exceptional judge of character. From what I’ve gathered, you’ve well exceeded all his marks. He trusts you, and to gain such a thing from someone as old and wise as him is an extraordinary feat.”

You brew over the attempted compliment he tried to pay to you. Unfortunately, it doesn’t snub out all these festering thoughts in your head. It doesn’t even give you temporary relief. Perhaps it would have brought you a sense of peace a few months ago, but with everything that has happened thus far, you doubt even Malleus can alleviate the storm that rattles inside you, even if what he speaks is without a doubt nothing but the truth.

Surely he can see that you are still having some hangups. When you lift his hand and plant a chaste kiss on the back of his hand, you hope he can decipher the gesture as a pitiful request for his forgiveness for dampening the once energetic mood. He is not at fault for your loss and inability to think optimistically at the moment and you need to make sure he knows it.

Today is about him, not you. Even if it’s just for today, you’ll put on a pleasant facade and worry about the rest at a later date. It’s just you and him, and for now, that’s enough.

You do a mental countdown starting from three, before finally giving him a late response to the three words he uttered in confidence to you earlier. “I love you too, by the way.”

You love him. You love him. You love him. That’s all his mind can think of for the rest of the day. He replays your reciprocation over and over like it’s sacred and all-powerful.

He had planned to return to his dorm before the sun began to set, but he found the mere idea of detaching from you deeply unwanted and made the last-minute decision to spend the evening at the Ramshackle dorm. He already has a few articles of clothing and personal essentials set up in one of the many empty rooms, so neither Lilia nor you had any objections at his sudden request.

“Don’t worry!” You shout across the room so that Lilia can hear you over his phone. “I’ll make sure he gets to bed on time!”

“You have my gratitude!” Lilia’s muffled voice responds gratefully. “Don’t cause too much trouble now, you two.”

“No promises~” you sing in jest before Malleus hangs up. Once the call ends Johnny, Benji, Franky, and you turn their attention back to their ongoing game of poker. Malleus watches and occasionally laughs to himself over the friendly banter shared between the quartet. At the end of every round, the winner is assaulted with colorful profanities whilst they take their newly won gambling chips with ebullience. Yet with each new dealing of cards, the animosity goes away and they’re all back to being friendly. He finds your interactions with your incorporeal roommates more entertaining than the book he’s been reading to pass the time.

“Hey, fairy boy,” Franky informally calls out toward him. “Don’t be a stranger now. Play a few rounds with us.”

“I’m afraid I’m not well versed in card games,” he admits, yet he still finds himself setting his literature aside and moving over to join them.

“Don’t worry,” you give him a reassuring smile. “They’ll go easy on you.”

“For how long?” he knowingly asks.

You give him an impressed smirk at his quick uptake. “I give it three rounds before they start to pull back their sleeves.”

Malleus is well-adjusted to the need to quickly learn a new topic and the expectation for him to fully comprehend it in full. None of them are harsh on him for his minor mistakes like some of the tutors he’s had in the past. Answers that he believes may be obvious or not as complicated as he thinks they are being answered with enthusiastic patience. The smallest achievements he makes are met with a proud response. When he makes a surprise turnabout and wins his first game, he’s rewarded with an encouraging round of applause by everyone.

“Not bad,” Benji praises as he shuffles the deck of cards. “You’re a fast learner.”

“So I’ve been told,” he humbly replies. “Is this the part where you all stop going easy on me now?”

“Don’t provoke them,” you half-heartedly warn. “Otherwise we’ll be up all night duking it out otherwise.”

Franky sets his glass of iced liquor down on the edge of the table. “Don’t you little lovebirds worry. We won’t take up too much of your well-needed time together.”

Annoyed at the clear jab at his relationship with you, you throw one of your chips towards his head. It passes through his body and clatters on the floor behind him. Your fawn Blossom jumps down from their spot on the couch and goes to sniff it, thinking it to be food, but walks away with a disappointed strut when he realizes it isn’t anything edible.

“I didn’t tell them a damn thing,” you defensively clarify. “It was so obvious what was going on between us that they figured it all out before we made it official.”

He lets out a deep breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. “That’s...I can’t say I’m too pleased to hear about that.”

“We won’t say anything,” Franky reassures. “Just make sure to put a sock on the door whenever you guys want some alone time.”

“Franky!” you hiss at him. “What the hell?!”

“What?” he looks at you, unbothered by your clear embarrassment. “Do you honestly expect us to think you guys went out just to look at a bunch of statues?”

“Oh, I’m sure they were looking at something,” Johnny smirks. “It wasn’t made of stone though.”

“I hate you guys,” you growl out, arms crossing and leaning back into your seat with an angry huff. You don’t mean it. He can see the tremble of your lips as you try to contain the urge to grin. “Even if we did end up rolling around in the sheets, I wouldn’t be yapping about it for all to hear, much less you guys!”

“What happens in the gargoyle graveyard stays in the gargoyle graveyard, eh?” Franky winks at both Malleus and you, nudging you with his elbow.

“Exactly!” you affirm, batting the large ghost away from you for some much-needed distance. “Now stop being so damn nosy.”

They cackle one last time and everyone seamlessly goes back to their ongoing game. Conversations like the one that just concluded are commonplace in your dormitory. Even if he contributed next to nothing to the discussion, he enjoys watching them interact. You come from a world where ghosts are hardly as overt as the ones in this world. Ghosts are said to entertain themselves by picking on the living, to the point that it can be fatal. Your ability to come up with witticisms at a moment's notice is something he enjoys seeing in action. He feels great satisfaction not only knowing that he has secured your love but to also see you in a state of tranquility and within your elements.

As Benji and you have a hushed conversation on the sidelines, he reaches over and places his hand on your knee beneath the table. You quietly reach over and put your hand over his, stroking the back of his hand with your thumb like it’s instinctual. Unfortunately, the heart-fluttering moment is ruined by the sudden buzzing of his phone. He has half a mind to ignore it, but when he gives the screen a glance he realizes ignoring the caller is not an option.

“I’ll be out for a moment,” he excuses himself once he sets his hand down and stands himself upright. “This shouldn’t take that long, hopefully.”

They all stop to look up at him inquisitively for half a second. In unison, they ask, “Sebek?”

“Sebek,” he affirms.

There are simultaneous displays of annoyance, pity, and silent wishes of good luck directed at him. He’s tempted to ask where all this contempt for the boy comes from, but then he remembers the many times Sebek barges his way into their dorm at the worst possible moments. It is either when everyone is beginning to settle down after a long day or in the middle of an important house project, the former more so than the latter now that the dorm is much more stable and in need of less restoration. Malleus learned the hard way how ill you and the ghosts will react when your peace is unwantedly interrupted and your space invaded by an unwanted guest.

Sebek is also quick to scrutinize whatever he sees out loud without a filter. You never seem to mind half of the time, merely rolling your eyes and moving past Sebek’s ill-meaning remarks as if you never heard them. As you are someone Malleus highly regards and holds close to his bosom, he hopes Sebek can one day set aside his strife with humankind and give you the due diligence you deserve.

...Though, he completely understands that reaching that point will take time. While you can endure Sebek to a certain degree, there are times where he, unfortunately, pushes you past that threshold and, without flinching, you will tell him to “Shut the fuck up”. Your words, not his.

“Young master!” Sebek's transmitted voice peaks and he has to half pull it away to give his pained eardrums some relief. “I was informed by Lord Lilia that you will be spending the night over at the Human’s dorm. Have you all your accommodations at their estate? If not, I will swiftly-”

“That won’t be necessary,” he half laughs at his enthusiasm over such a small task. “I have enough to keep me comfortable and well for a few days. Your offer is still very much appreciated.”

“Y-Yes, of course,” he stutters. “If there’s anything you should ever find a need for, please inform me at once! I will fulfill your every wishes no matter the hour!”

He’s enthusiastic and ready to act at a moment’s notice, even during the middle of a cold and dark hour. Malleus doesn’t necessarily dislike this part of Sebek, but he’s starting to understand why someone like you would find such subservience difficult to deal with. At any moment, Malleus could ask Sebek to grab some insignificant item of his and tread through the thick snow to deliver it to him, and the boy would do so with jubilation and utmost timeliness. You on the other hand wouldn’t be caught dead ordering someone to do something on your behalf when you believe you are well and capable of doing it yourself.

You don’t put expectations onto the backs of others, choosing to trust yourself first before anyone else. He knows now that it’s a result of the one instance where you expected something from someone, only to be thoroughly let down and left wondering if it was you who did something wrong.

Malleus cannot make up for the pain you’ve been subjected to, but he hopes that he can become the outlier in your life that surpasses any preconceived notions you may hold onto others. He hopes...No, he absolutely will be the one who brings you your well-earned and deserved joy and repose, just as you have done for him and continue to do so.

You love him, and he will ensure he is worthy of every last drop of your fidelity.

[syncron554]

Faults, Vices, and Virtues (شَفَرَات وحَيَّات) - [2] - Unspoken are the Sins of the Condemned

Hey everyone, welcome to the first chapter of Faults, Vices, and Virtues (شَفَرَات وحَيَّات)!

I want to mention that the prologue from the previous chapter will not be tying into the story for awhile, and the scene will most likely be repeated, but in context, in a few chapters.

You can find me here at @bi-riter09 or my main blog @syncron554 on Tumblr. My inbox is always open, so come yell at me about Descendants anytime!

Enjoy!

-

Gifted to @unapologeticallyjaylos , as well as @bunny-lou and Irrelevantrelevancy for inspiration from Dominance and Grin and Bear It/Instructions Not Included. (They're really good, please take the chance to read them.)

-

Chapter Start Date: August 29th, 2019

Chapter End Date: August 30th, 2019

Chapter Word Count: 655

Chapter Summary: Jay has some dark musings about his situation before going to join in some trouble.

Chapter Trigger Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse, graphic depictions of child neglect, graphic depictions/referenced blood/gore, implied/referenced non-con/prostitution elements, implied/referenced violence involving animals (not animal abuse, but gore inflicted by animals), implied/referenced gaslighting elements, blatant effects of gaslighting.

-

"Home life is no more natural to us than a cage is natural to a cockatoo."

-

George Bernard Shaw

-

It was a humid, cloudy day on the Isle of the Lost, like every day; but this day was almost like no other.

A thick fog had swept through the streets. 

A dark cloud of musty smoke lingered just above the barrier, casting a shadow over the ratty, makeshift town.

The darkened sky was beginning to show signs of a violent rainstorm growing rampant along the east coast, daring to bring sleet and vicious winds; waiting to swallow the island whole.

It was a perfect day for commiting crimes, the likes of which he would most likely never see again in his short lifetime.

For the first time in all of his fifteen years, Jay could almost feel the pull of a true grin forming on his face.

There was bound to be plenty of dubious opportunities for his sneaky little hands to find their way into someone's unsuspecting pockets or purse and grab themselves a little prize for his efforts.

And it couldn't have come at a better time. 

Jay was tired of sleeping along the gutters of roofs or in the impossible-to-spot crates that lined the alleyways outside of Jafar's Junk Shop.

His father had quite literally kicked him out three weeks ago, for his inexcusable fuck-up with Rhiannon.

In hindsight, he should have seen it coming.

As a thief, Jay wasn't allowed to let his guard down, ever. Not in his sleep, not at his father's shop, and definitely not with his f- his gang, not so long as they lived within the boundaries of the Isle.

If you were born on the Isle, and wanted to keep living, you followed the island's rules. No questions, no excuses, and certainly no mercy.

Jay understood these rules. 

He had also disregarded them.

He had been playing the long game with Rhian: exposing and manipulating her weaknesses, then exploiting her attraction to him to get to the bulging wallet tightly tucked in her black-and-red polka dot bra. For almost two years, he had her eating out of the palm of his hand, playing her like a puppet on a string. 

He had done exactly as his father had told him, perfect to a 'T', and played the role of the devoted golden boy; if only he could get just one second of his father's approval. If only Jafar could be proud of him for something. 

If only it were that easy.

When he had crawled home that night, four parallel lines making up the bleeding claw mark etched over his left eye, Jafar was furious. 

Of all the times he had pissed off the ex-vizer, of all the times he had brought shame upon their family name, he had only seen his father's eyes burn that bright red a total of two times, before that night.

He had only tried to explain to Jafar once - that Cora's daughter had woken up and found him rifling through her purse, after- after... after what she had him do with her - before he was leaving the shop with more hand-shaped bruises lining his face, neck, and arms.

When he had finally gathered the energy to pick himself up off the hard concrete lining the front steps of the shop - ignoring the oddly beak-shaped cuts surrounding his eyes - he could only bring himself to feel grateful that two more round indentations hadn't found their way into the curve of his neck before he stalked off into the night.

If he could manage to take home even a handful of good steals, let alone a lamp, maybe his father would finally forgive him and let him back in. 

Maybe he could even try to make up with Rhiannon, despite how unlikely that seemed. 

He would do anything to make his father happy. 

He just needed to do better; work harder.

He would get his 'Abb to love him, even if it was the last thing he did.

-

Woops, my hand slipped. Sorry.

If it didn't make sense, Rhiannon is the daughter of the Queen of Hearts, Cora Mills, who is quite wealthy on the Isle.

Let me know in the comments if you got the reference. Or just leave a comment in general, if you enjoyed it!

Sorry this one is so short, I meant to make it much longer, but I liked how it sounded, and decided to make the cut off there.

Hopefully I can make the next chapter a lot longer.

And if you don't already know, the full name of the story is Faults, Vices, and Virtues (Serpents and Blades). I wonder if that is going to tie in later...

Thanks for reading!

[marvel-has-my-soul]

Jet Fighter

(Peter Parker x OC Female)

Description: Jet is a girl with wings and superhuman strength. Need I say more?

CHAPTER 3-

Lily Fisher

Jet walked next to Tony as he led her through the Penthouse of Stark tower, her small suitcase rolling loudly on the title behind her.

"I've made a deal with Ross that you will live a normal life in exchange, you can walk free." Jet nodded along, figuring it was best not to argue against him.

"No flying. You have to hide your wings anytime you're in public." Tony continued, "I've already confiscated your suit, but you can keep your watch. All weapon systems have been disabled though."

"But I can have my wings out here, right?" Jet asked. Tony nodded.

"Yes, you can stretch them out here, but only on this floor and the one below us. These are private floors and only those how already know about you are allowed up. We can't rist anyone else working here seeing you."

"Okay...well that doesn't seem so bad." Jet said, trying to stay positive. "I mean, this isn't a permanent thing, right?" She laughed slightly. "Just long enough to get Ross off our backs." Tony didn't answer. Jet's smile faded and she looked up at Tony.

"How long will I have to do this?" She asked, scared of the answer.

"You'll also have to go to school." Tony went on, ignoring the question all together. Jet froze in place, Tony walking a few places ahead before realizing Jet was no longer next to him. He stopped and turned, an eyebrow raised.

"Is there a problem?"

"School? Why?" She spat.

"We have to convince the world that you are a normal teenager. And that means school."

"But... but what about homeschooling? Or that tutor that you hired for me?" Jet negotiated desperately. Tony crossed his arms and shook his head.

"Sorry kid. You're going to Midtown High School and that's final."

"Midtown?!" Jet shouted. "But that's over 40 minutes away!"

"I know. You can't in anyway be related to me or Stark industries. The further the school, the better." Tony said. Jet let out a jiff and marched passed Tony, in the direction of her new room.

"One more thing." Tony called after her. Jet halted but didn't turn around. "We'll need to find you a new name. You start school in two weeks." Tony said.

Without a word, Jet continued to her room, walking in and slamming the door. Leaning against the door for a moment, she took a fee breaths, scanning the nearly empty room. It was stark white, reminding Jet of her cell. The only differences seemed to be a bathroom off to the side, and large window along one wall.

Jet abandoned her suit case at the door and ran towards the window. She tried to pull it open, only to find it was sealed shut. She let out a groan and lensed on the window, watching a plane fly overhead.

"Jet another precaution." Jet whipped around to see Tony standing at the door, looking around the bare room.

"The rest of your things should be arriving tomorrow. You can decorate this room anyway you want." With those words, Tony left, leaving the door wide open. Jet stomped forward and slammed the door, locking it tightly.

***

Two weeks flew by and soon Jet woke up to her alarm at 6:30 am. She groaned loudly, swinging an arm out from under her sheets and punching the clock off the nightstand. It fell to the floor with a crash and the alarm stopped. Jet snuggled deeper into her pillows.

"It's time to get up." Friday's electronic voice echoed through the room. Jet let out another groan and sat up, her eyes squinting through the dim light of the sunrise shinning through the window. She sat there, angry at the world.

"Friday, close the blinds." She demanded through a yawn. The blinds fall closed, plunging the room back into darkness. Jet fell back into bed, burying her face into a pillow.

"Mr. Stark will be disappointed if you are not up in approximately one minute." Friday said.

"How will he know if I'm up or not." Jet asked, her voice muffled by the pillow.

"Because he wanted to make sure you were up ." Tony's voice answered. Jet shot up out of bed in a panic to see Tony standing in the door way. She reverted back to a scowl.

"The door was locked." She snapped.

"I own this door. You think I dont have a key to it?" Jet rolled her eyes and scoffed. "Hurry up and get dressed, Lily Fisher." Tony said before leaving.

Lily Fisher. That was her alias for the public. And Jet hated everything about it. She stood there for a moment, collecting herself before getting dressed for the day.

Jet was just about to walk out the door when Friday spoke up.

"You forgot your jacket." Jet groaned and ripped the jacket from its hanger and pulled it over her shoulders, the bulk of the oversized jacket successfully hiding her wings.

Jet left the room and shuffled to the kitchen. She pouted a bowl of Froot Loops, but ended up just staring at it angrily. Happy walked in, jingling his keys in his hand.

"Ready to go?" He asked. Jet pushed the untouched bowl into the sink and grabbed her bag, following Happy to the elevator down to the parking garage without a word.

The car ride was long and uneventful, Jet even dosed off and earned another 20 minutes of sleep until the car jerked to a stop three blocks away from the school.

Happy unlocked the door and Jet got out.

"Have a good day, kid!" Happy said.

"Unlikely." Jet slammed the door and walked the remainder of the way to school until she stood outside of the intimating building. Teenagers milled around outside, laughing and talking to each other like normal people. Jet took a deep breath and walked inside.

***

Not much could be said about Jet’s first classes in school. She had successfully caught up in her studies before the term began, so the actual curriculum wasn’t the hard part in all of this. It was the interacting with people her own age. She could hold a conversation with Steve or Sam just fine, but when it came to teenagers, she was at a loss. They talked about last nights episodes of their favorite shows, vine compilations that were titled “vines that keep me from ending it all” or “vines that really butter my eggroll,” whatever that meant. They were hyped about their favorite sports teams or the Friday night party that someone was hosting. Jet couldn’t relate to any of that. Fighting techniques? Got it. Shooting a gun? Done. Her days at the Avenger’s Facility? Covered. But talking about mundane things that she had never even heard off? Impossible.

Jet sat down at an empty lunch table, watching everyone interact around her. A group of guys, jocks, high-fived and shouted at each other from across the table. A clique of girls in short skirts strutted down the isle of tables, each of them swaying their hips unnaturally to catch the attention of any guy in their vicinity. Band geeks hung around each other, some supporting heavy instruments, while others tapped against the lunch table. Couples made out with each other up against walls, tables, other people.

Jet picked at her lunch lazily, not mustering up any sort of appetite. After the day she had, she could confirm that she was what one would call an introvert. All this human interaction was too much for her to bear and all she wanted was to take a nap. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by a tray slamming down on the table right in front of her and a backpack being tossed carelessly to the tile floor. Jet looked up to see a darker skinned girl with crazy curly hair and a smirk etched on her face. Without a word, she sat down and held her hand out.

“Call me MJ.” She said. Jet timidly reached forward and took the girls outstretched hand.

“Lily.” She responded, the foreign name falling from her mouth without emotion. The girl released her hand and began shoveling food into her mouth.

“Aren’t you hungry?” She asked through bites. 

“No...not really.” Jet answered, waiting for MJ to tell her why she was sitting here in the first place.

“You’d better eat something now. Ms. Warren doesn’t let people eat in her class.” Jet tilted her head and her shoulders tensed.

“How did you-”

“Your schedule’s sitting right there, I’d have to be blind not to see it.” MJ interrupted.

“Why are you sitting here?” Jet asked.

“Simple. You’re in my spot.” 

“Oh! Um, sorry...I didn’t realize.” Jet moved to put her things away when MJ started laughing.

“I’m just playing, Lils. Lighten up a little, will ya?” She reached across the table and lightly punched Jet across the shoulder. Jet let out an uneasy laugh, not sure how to interact with this strange, but oddly friendly girl. 

“I noticed you were new and I’ve decided to take you under my wing.” Jet nearly snorted at MJ’s analogy. If only she knew. 

MJ kept good on her decision, dragging Jet along with her and showing her the ropes of Midtown High School. They had a few of the same classes, and MJ made sure to fill her in on every teachers flaws. MJ was her guide, and Jet knew that she would probably be lost without her.

But by the end of the day, while MJ felt she may have made a friend, Jet knew that she could never make friends based off of lies. The people at this school knew Lily Fisher. Not Jet.

"See you later." MJ waved goodbye to Jet as they parted ways. Jet waved back and then turned, hurrying down the streets to where Happy had already parked his car. She hopped in and he drove off.

"How was school?" He asked, looking at her in the rearview mirror. Jet shrugged.

"Can you be friends with someone if they dont actually know your real identity?" She asked, leaning her head against the window and shutting her eyes.

"If the friendship is real, then it shouldn't matter whether they know your real name or not. And if they're really your friend, maybe in the long run, you can tell them." Happy responded.

"Yea, over Tony's dead body." Jet scoffed.

"He just wants to keep you safe, kid."

"No he wants to keep me restrained. There's a difference." Happy opened his mouth to respond, but saw Jet had closed her eyes and was snoring softly.

Happy drove silently for a few minutes before his phone rang. He answered it, making sure to talk quietly.

"How's she doing?" Tony asked through the phone.

"She's passed out in the back seat. Think she had too much human interaction for one day." Happy said, looking back at Jet as he pulled to a stop at a red light.

"Do you think she had a good day?"

"Hard to tell. I think she may have made a friend, but isn't sure about it being surrounded by lies."

"It's for the best."

"That's what I told her."

Tag list:

@ginger-elf-queen

[coffee-n-bagels-comic-universe]

Blood & Roses or Strawberry Milk

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This passage contains potentially: swearing, blood, whump and fluff content and violence.

Summary: A continuation of the previous chapter but more specifically, within this chapter Kirby and Roddy get to know each other better before splitting up for a while.

Kirby's POV:

Roddy stopped, realising what he had just said, "Sorry, I got overexcited."

"It's okay, just don't get a stiffie, alright?"

Roddy laughed, "Alright. I should get going, … unless you want to get breakfast together."

"Sure, you need a new shirt, unless you're planning on spending today in just the kilt."

"Maybe I will."

"Roddy, don't."

He shoots me a reassuring glance, "I think, my hotel room is the floor above."

"You're telling me this now?"

"let me check if I still have the key," He opened the pouch of the sporran and got the key out, "Room, one-hundred and fifteen."

"I believe that's actually down the hall."

Roddy left for a couple minutes, coming back wearing a black t-shirt covered by a blue plaid shirt and a pair of jeans.

"Oh wow, I almost forgot you were Scottish for a second, Piper."

"Ha, so very, very funny, Kirby. That reminds me of something."

"What?"

"Where does your name come from?"

"Old Norse, originally it meant 'Church Settlement'. However, my parents named me after the artist Jack Kirby, I think."

"Norse, as in, Vikings?"

"Norse as in I'm a quarter Norwegian."

"So, you're Scottish, Norwegian, anything else I should know about you?"

"I'm also Welsh and Irish. I grew up in Cardiff and my mother grew up on the Isle of Skye."

"Where exactly on the Isle of Skye?"

"Uig, I believe, near Kilt Rock."

"Wait, Kilt Rock?"

"Yes Roddy, There is a place called Kilt Rock."

"Well then," He adjusted his collar slightly, "Shall we." He tries to sound as suave as possible.

"Nice try, Romeo, it's not going to make me like you any more."

I grabbed my old leather jacket from within my suitcase and we started walking and, eventually, reached a small diner, we settled into a corner booth and I started scanning the menu for something to please my appetite, my wallet secure in my jacket pocket, I slid my mask into the opposite pocket, it stuck out slightly but wasn't noticeable.

"Good morning. My name is Debbie, I'll be your server today. What can I get for you two lovebirds?"

"I'll have," Roddy began, clearly either avoiding correcting the young waitress or not caring to correct her, "the 'Power Breakfast' with toast and a regular latte."

"And the lady?" she looked over from Piper to myself, before doing a double and take fully taking me in.

"I will have, the 'Tropical Waffle' with a side of 'Canadian Bacon' and a strawberry milkshake, please Debbie."

"Y-yes, Miss. So, that's the Power Breakfast and toast with a latte for the gentleman and the Tropical Waffle with a side of Canadian Bacon and a strawberry milkshake for the lady?"

"Yes." We said in unison, watching the waitress walk away.

"Roddy."

"What?" He scoffed

"Oh I don't know, perhaps you should have clarified that we," I gestured to him and then myself, "Are not 'lovebirds'?"

"Oh come on, you know if I let her know that she would've pried into our lives, y'know."

"Really now, Piper?"

"Yes, and stop calling me Piper, it's too formal, we know each other better than that, it's Roddy, or Rod, not Piper from now on, alright?"

"Alright. Roddy."

When the food arrived the waitress seemed to want to get the food to us and get out quickly.

"How's the leg?" I inquired before shoving a forkful of strawberry and waffle into my mouth.

"It hurts a little, but I've been through worse."

"Like bottling yourself." I mumbled through the mouthful of sugary bliss.

"Exactly." Roddy said through a mouthful of toast and turkey breast.

"You really should stop doing that." I warned him.

"Why, you care about me getting brain damage or somethin'?"

"No, I just, I can't stand the idea of you getting hurt, not after last night." I tried to keep my concerned tone to a minimum.

Roddy reached out to grab my hand and ran his thumb over my knuckles, "I'm okay. you made sure of that."

I know I should listen to him but I shrugged him off and went back to my meal, finishing it all as Roddy was around 3/4 done with his meal. Sipping my drink and gazing at Rod's beaten up face, focusing on his hairline still tinted a dark red with blood.

"You alright Kirby?"

I looked away quickly, "You're hair, it's …"

"Brown, I know. It's boring, why?" Sarcasm rang clear in his tone.

"No, Roddy, you're hair is tinted red, from the blood."

"Still, I thought I washed all the blood out." He was clearly joking but it stung me slightly and I don't know why.

"Y'know Kirby, Schultz was right about you."

"Really, how?"

"You're a fighter, a real tough guy, uh, gal, but you're nice, sweet even. You care about people, regardless of who they are."

"You were bleeding to death in a hotel corridor, right outside my room. I heard you get thrown against a wall. Would you rather I let you die?"

"I'd rather you'd left me and ran after the asshole who hurt me."

"It would have resulted in your death, Roddy. I couldn't let you die."

"Why not?"

"Because … because. I don't know okay. I chose to save you and that's that, alright."

"Alright, we should pay and get outta here."

"Already ahead of you." I pulled out my wallet and placed $35 on the table, calling the waitress over with my hand.

We paid and left, with me swiftly placing my mask back over my face. I caught Roddy staring at my face out of the corner of my eye.

"Kirby?"

I hummed in response.

"Why do you wear a mask, you're not hideous."

"I think every wrestling commentator I've ever met would disagree with you."

"what d'ya mean?"

"They call me 'The Ogress', Roddy. They call me a female Ogre."

"Then, they're wrong, you're not a hideous beast."

"Just because I saved you, doesn't mean I'm like that to everyone."

"How bad could you be? Sure you've made some dumb decisions in the past but the past's the past."

"Yeah, last night is also 'the past' Roddy."

"Look, all I'm trying to say, is, well, thank you and, don't listen to people, half the time they don't know what their words mean to the people they're saying them to."

"So, we are we headed, Roddy?"

"I don't know, maybe back to the hotel."

"Sure."

The rest of the walk back to my hotel room was silent, until we were inside the hotel room.

"So, who's better at conversation, me or André?"

"Well, Drey's got a natural charm to him, he's kind and knows the troubles that someone with gigantism goes through."

"Wait a second, 'Drey'?"

"Yeah, Drey, Why?"

"That's a pretty unique pet name. What is he, your boyfriend?"

"No, no, just an extremely close friend."

"Close, as in?"

"Close as in, we are just pals, you sound awfully jealous Roddy."

"Me, jealous. Ha! never."

"Never, really?"

I was trying to rile him up, and by the way he shifted his weight from one leg to the other before quickly shifting back, I could tell it was working.

"I'm not jealous, alright. It's just been a really long time since I've had a female friend as, nice, as you."

"Rod, come here a second," I got closer to him, to check the graze on his forehead, gently moving his hair away from his temple to get a better look, "Hold on, don't … don't move."

He held still and let me check the wound, it was healing, slowly but definitely healing. I changed my focus to the cut on his eyebrow on the other side of his face, gently placing my thumb next to the cut to hold his head still.

"Hey what are ya- Ah!" Roddy pulled away.

"Come back here."

"At least buy me dinner first." His tone once again became jovial.

"Roddy." I glared into his eyes.

He glared right back, as if to show how quickly he could switch his moods and making my breathing catch in my throat for a second.

"I think I need a moment" I whispered, turning to head to the bathroom before Rod grabbed me by the arm.

"I'm sorry," His voice soft and caring, "I didn't mean to scare ya."

This was new, a much softer and mellow version of Roddy.

"You didn't scare me that much, Roddy."

I continued to the bathroom and closed the door, undressing and getting ready to shower. I had been in the shower for only a few minutes when I heard the door to the room open and close suddenly, stepping out of the bathroom I realised that Roddy had left, leaving a note on the same page of the sketchbook that I had left a prior note to him.

"Thought I should get some rest in my own room. Thanks again. Roddy." I murmured as I read.

I hope he gets some proper rest, and heals quickly but I can't help but feel lonely without him here. God what am I saying, I don't like Roddy that much. Almost as if I love him, I don't for the record, I'm still not fully over Erik. God, I miss Erik. His kind smile, his flaming ginger hair, his goatee and the way any shirt would hug his muscles if he worked up a sweat. An extremely handsome man with the balls, or guts, to wear a kilt and not care what people thought about him because of it. There's no way I could give him up if the opportunity were to present itself ever again. I looked at the digital clock next to the phone and, realising how late it was decided to strip down to my underwear and get some rest.

I woke up to rapid knocking on my door and the door handle being jostled around from the outside. I hurried to get dressed and opened the door, my hair flowing over my right shoulder in loose waves. I swung the door open to Roddy, with a worried look on his face.

"God, what time do you call this?"

"I don't care what you're gonna say next, listen to me."

"Roddy," I looked over at the clock, "It's four in the morning."

"I know, but I could nae get ya off my mind." He stepped in, obviously stressed and closed the door behind him, "Listen ta me, just listen ta me."

"I'm listening Roddy" I huffed as I sat on the edge of the bed.

"How about you and me go out on a date, no one needs to know. Just you, me, perhaps a diner like yesterday, or a coffee shop?"

"Roddy, I fly back to Cardiff tomorrow, I haven't got time to have both a social life and a career involving another Scotsman, alright. I," I paused, "I'm still not over the last time I had my heart broken."

Rod dropped to his healthy knee, placing a hand on my cheek and looking me in the eyes, "I won't break you're heart, I promise, even if it takes a while for us to be near each other every single day. I won't give up on you. I swear on God above."

"Roddy, I … I guess it's worth a shot, I still have to fly back to-"

Rod cut me off by pressing his lips to mine, my eyes widened before I relaxed into the kiss, slipping one hand under his chin and the other around his back as he slipped his arms around my waist to lift me up to my feet, Rod having to lean up slightly as I leaned down into the kiss.

For the first time, in a long time, I felt at peace with the universe, the same feeling I had felt whilst visiting my aunt on the Isle of Skye.

Rod pulled away, breathing heavily, "I've wanted to do that ever since our first sparring session," He breathed a deep sigh, "Ever since I saw your face without that mask on," he took another breath, "It's funny what almost dying will do to you."

"Shut up, Roddy, just shut up." I pressed my forehead against his.

Then I woke up.

I woke up on the morning of January the eleventh, to silence, I looked at the clock, 5: 50, no signs of Roddy, I felt sick, like I had pushed my own boundaries too far. I rushed to get into the shower and clean myself of that dream, fantasy, whatever you want to call it.

I cleaned up the hotel room, got dressed and got to packing my things into my suitcase and duffel bag, before walking to the hotel lobby, leaving this hotel for hopefully the last time and heading to my truck. My dad had bought me a 1974 Dodge D200 when I was twenty.

A trustworthy vehicle and and a truck I could, albeit with a slight amount of discomfort. I packed the truck and planned on heading out to the next place, Queens, New York.

END OF BLOOD & ROSES or STRAWBERRY MILK.