Curiosity Killed

by nuyoah_eliuak

Summary:

The Vks arrive, and Jane is not sure if she's ready for them.

Chapter 1

First thing she noticed was the mask. Then, followed by a second, third and fourth.

When the limousine drives up to the forecourt, Jane, with her unevenly trimmed bob and slightly askew hair clip, stands beside Lonnie, who keeps rising on her toes, straining to see over the crowd ahead. Her shoulders are hunched, as if trying to make herself smaller, her eyes darting nervously to the ground.

What do you do when the kids of your parent's arch-nemesis enroll in your school?

Keep your head down. The magics behind her mind whisper. Besides, they wouldn't want to spend time with you either way.

And so, Jane keeps her head down, her hair falling forward to hide her face. The demons in her mind cruel, mocking.

You’re invisible for a reason. No one cares.

But then, the noise up ahead pulls her from her thoughts. She can hear Audrey seething, even if she doesn't want to.

Against her will, her gaze lifts, and Jane's eyes, light and daze, lock onto a pair of masks in the distance.

Raven, dark and unyielding, its hollow eyes seem to pierce right through her. The bear follows, then a fox and a snake, their eerie presence haunting closer.

Jane's breath caught as a strange tension grips her chest. The damn urge to shrink further, to disappear completely, lingers, but something about the masks keeps her frozen.

For the first time, the demons in her head fall silent.

The offspring of the Isle's most infamous four villains have arrived. And only now does she realize it.

Chapter 2

Summary:

Lonnie is intrigued by Evie, vaguely aware that a war is unfolding.

花歌(Huā Gē) grew up within the army, warriors and healers. She began her training at the age of three.

A sword engraved with her name.

A white horse to race aside the wind.

These were all she had ever hoped for.

Those dreams, however, shattered in pieces as soon as she enrolled at Auradon Prep.

 

The princesses and ladies shared skeptical glances, muttering about her lack of grace and decorum. The princes and gentlemen scoffed, deeming her as unfit for what a proper lady should aspire to.

A warrior is diminished for acceptance's sake.

 

Seems like the title of the school’s Fairest might be shifting hands. Lonnie wonders.

Midnight blue hair, rosy cheeks and soft lips. Refined elegance, each movement graceful and fluid.

The Evil Queen's daughter is undeniably beautiful.

On top of that, her fashion sense stands out too—an intricately embroidered blouse paired with a flowing pleated skirt edged in gold, while tattered leggings and sturdy boots add a practical, grounded touch.

Despite being shunned by the world, it seems they manage just fine.

Until her gaze lowers to their hands as Ben offers a handshake, and Lonnie’s breath catches, as disbelief washes over her.

She’d be a fool not to recognize it—the calluses. She knows them all too well, a reminder of the hard work she once knew herself.

How long exactly have they been at war?

Notes:

花歌 (Huā Gē): Song of Flowers.

For Lonnie because it felt like a better fit than Li Lonnie.

Chapter 3

Summary:

Doug is losing his mind.

Douglas "Doug" Wright is, constantly worn out, more than he realizes, for the last four months. If anything, he’s bounced enough bureaus for approvals, only to have them returned with, yet another big red stamp that always makes him squirm.

Denied—all he's been receiving are official rejections, over and over; no approval granted. Heroes are kind, but callous to villains. Heroes are brave, but cautious of villains. Heroes are forgiving, but critical to villains.

It feels sick. An odd sense of dissonance makes way into his heart. Like no one cares. His mind gawkes at the thought; he shouldn't, but he can't seem to stop.

Aren't heroes supposed to be sympathetic?

 

“I still think it's better to separate them,” Here we go again. It makes his skin crawl, overwhelming, itching in threatening, twisting pieces. “Tell me, Douglas. Of all arrangements, why they shouldn't be apart?”

It's okay. He's the King. He's reasonable. Queen Belle waves and it's lovely and it's a relief because it helps answering The King's wonder more easily. But King don't wonder easily, neither, suddenly. They wonder because they want to know, to confirm, or to end——

Doug would've fallen if xe didn't catch him. Everyone's watching; Ben glances at him with worry, Audrey isn't smiling - she's smiling but it don't reach her eyes. His chest tightens; eyes weigh on him. Smile unsettles him, gossips suffocate... please... No! he can't afford to falter. He needs to——

“Man, you're really heavy...”

Shit. Doug quickly gets up, instinctively reaching out to help xem, but hesitates and steps back—only for xem to tilt xem head. He can't see what expression xe's making, focus caught on the fox mask.

Xe flinches when the bear girl calls out.

“Carlos!”

The name rings. Doug finally manages to choke out a strained 'thank you'; xe nods, quickly rushing to both the raven and the snake's side.

“Geht es dir gut?” the one with bear mask concerns.

 

Oh.

Oh.

Notes:

——Geht es dir gut?
——Are you alright?

German to English, according to Google.
Guess which fairytale's origin is this.

Chapter 4

Summary:

Theif is a compliment to Aziz and his way of thinking someone's good-looking.

Notes:

In which I'm breaking up one of Disney's iconic pair.

Aziz stands before the old portraits, his heart racing as he looks up, tracing a face that shares half of their mother's bloodline, concealed from everyone.

It had been ten years since his brother went missing, and while his belongings still remain untouched, his mother and Shula can't bear to look at it and haven't visited since. His uncle took a break, saying he was going on a trip and would return soon.

Aziz knows he will likely never return, as he and Shula are bastards with a rightful claim to the throne. And because, he can't look them in the eye, for their father, of noble blood, is responsible for the disappearance of his son.

Aladdin will never return, for as a father who has lost a child, he refuses to let it happen again.

Even if it means separating himself from the betrayal and suppressing his pain.

*

His uncle asserts firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument, even if it means defying the Council.

“I only ask for one final thing,” Aladdin says calmly, his gaze unwavering as it locks onto whoever dares to disregard his request, and, above all, the Sultana of Agrabah. “Approve the proclamation. Let Jafar's son come. I'll be his guardian.”

“And let these insufferable brats walk all over us like their parents? Absolutely not!” Queen Leah fumes, her voice seething with dramatic outrage.

“My request is towards my Sultana.” Aladdin crossed his arms, unflinching even under burning glares.

Only when his mother's approval echoed in the hall and the Council ended did Aziz’s eyes shift to him.

And he wishes he didn't.

Aladdin crouches against the wall, face buried in his hands. Tears slip through his fingers, silent sobs betraying his anguish.

His uncle's in pain.

Yet he can't do anything.

*

It's like a riddle, but much, much simpler: The raven is Maleficent's daughter, the fox is Cruella's child, and the bear is the Evil Queen's daughter.

That leaves the snake alone. And Jafar's son's stands closer to the girl in the bear mask.

Aziz takes note of his attire. Typical thief, he thinks.

Jafar's son has wild, untamed hair, adding to his rugged appearance. Loose trousers, sleeveless top, and bandaged leggings. Perhaps more muscular.

Just like his uncle. A thief.

Notes:

Yeah

Chapter 5

Summary:

Love is a majority on Auradon.
Jane and Chad yearn it.
It tastes bitter than any true love kiss.

Love is a scarcity on the Isle.
Evie and Jay got it.
It tastes better than any true love kiss.

Notes:

TW: Implied/Referenced Abuse, Implied/Referenced Underage Sex.

Please leave if uncomfortable.

In Jane's case, she had been in love before, or so she thought—but she had never truly felt it. Her mother, ever watchful, ever wary, had wrapped her in the kind of love that smothered, fearing that her sweet, naive little one would one day be swept away by those who only knew how to take, how to use, how to leave.

But Jane—little Jane, whose wings had been folded, whose pointed ears had been softened—knew what she truly feared. Knew what they feared.  

She had grown up, and untouched. Unlike a fairy. Locked away from grasping hands and hungry eyes. Like a human. Her mother's a protector.

Yet Jane's heart ache. Something she could barely name—a longing that lingered in stolen glances and half-formed dreams.

And, oh. Oh. The desperate wish of wanting more.

 

The Fairy Godmother shrieked when she discovered. Her child had sown the seeds of sin—within the arms of a stranger.

And she never managed to find out who it was.

Chad was careful. So was Jane. He was innocent. Jane was innocent.

They could—would never risk each other out.

But Fairy Godmother’s breath came in sharp, uneven bursts.

No! Please!

Her nature crackled, shimmering. Jane yelled.

 

That night, he slipped into her coven.

“I'm sorry.”

Her bare, supple body pressed against him.

Too close. It's all—More! Give me more—too much.

Chad gasped, his spine arching in response.

Ah… Ah… So warm, so consuming.

“Please… forgive me.”

She captured those rosy, charming lips in return.

 

It's nothing more than a simple, light smooch—brief, fleeting, insignificant. 

Yet Jafar’s son grins as though he fucking owns the world. The Evil Queen’s daughter cups on her lover, fingers slowly brushing over his flushed cheeks. Her laughter flows, his chuckles merging softly with hers.

It sounds raw. Unrestrained.

Sweet like the ripest apple. Even through the masks, Jane's sure their eyes locked—no pretense, just pure, unfiltered desire.

And adoration.

It's different.  

With Chad, there's no softness, no gentle laughter. Just both their hungers, a possessiveness that never left them. The way he held her, kissed her, touched her, took from her—it was never like this—the way she held him, kissed him, touched him, took from him. They're never like this. Not once.

Jane curles into her stomach. The floor feels cold.

Why didn’t it feel like that?

Notes:

Got a tumblr: nuyoah-eliuak.

To @Chesca_123, thank you for always commenting. It's been a fun replying.

Chapter 6

Summary:

Someone's in treat with the Isle in sweats.

Notes:

花歌 (Huā Gē) is referred to as Gē'er.

The original character is Li Lonnie, but in this context, it will be used as an alias.

——给你带了份礼物。在钛金。6号竞技场。

——Got you a gift. Titanium Arena. R6.

Brown eyes wiggle at the unexpected sticky note on her mirror. Great. Just great. Gē'er lets out a long sigh. Xiǎo Yì (小翌) had sneaked into her room again. It explains why Sūn Gē (孙哥, Brother Sūn) wouldn't look her in the eye—he was covering for her brother.

Almost overwhelmingly cute.

Gē'er grabs a few pieces of dàn huáng sū—孙伯 (Sūn bó, Uncle Sūn) made the best snacks—to nibble on as she slips out of her room.

Where's Jane? She wonders. Her fairy light isn’t on.

Off to the arena she goes then.

*

She can't help but watch a little longer. It has been a while since she has seen anyone spar the way they do in her hometown. Athletically, she is not lacking—even much better than most muscle-bound posers.

And they're even better.

Dark waves flow as the snake figure lunges forward to fuzzy-white curls. The staff flashes as it blocks off the hit, pushing the attacker back in a sharp spin. It shatters. Jay. Snaps. Carlos. Cracks. Wait, he fights? Fall down under the pressure of kicks. It just breaks!?

Both her hands twitch at her sides.

The two of them soon retreat. Just when she thinks they're done... Luminous blue greets intense purple.

The staff spins, swinging low, aiming to sweep the attacker's legs. The other is quick, leaping over the staff and landing softly on the balls of their heels.

A whistle sounds behind her. Lonnie turns to see the two boys, looking very different from how they did on the field—significantly tired. “Hi there,” she greets them. Jay gives her a slight nod, while Carlos waves, messing with his curls, clearly preoccupied.

“The one who’ll ever have heels and still kicks ass,” Carlos speaks up. Lonnie blinks in understanding. “Is Evie.” So, he can talk.

Jay points out. “And Mal's the Crow.”

They continue to watch the spar.

Heels light on the ground.

The distance soon closes. With a precise jab and an elbow to the ribs... stumbling, teetering, falling.

“Here we go again...” Jay mutters, looking away and jumping over just as Lonnie's about to ask——

And she can't help but let out a snort. Mal launches forward, tackling a surprised Evie. In an instant, they both land on top of—wait, since when did Carlos join them!?—pinning Jay beneath them.

Their laughters mingle.

A crack of light through a glimmering hope.

*

Gē'er wishes she were home.  

Her sword. That's all she desires now.

She lets out a gasp. No way. Her scabbard!

A single word was engraved on it.

——勇, Yǒng. 

——Brave.

Notes:

Check out my other work: We Wretched Creatures

Fun fact: It's supposed to be Aziz. A better idea came.

Another fact: Boards created. On Tumblr should like a look.

Goodnight.

Chapter 7

Summary:

Doug panics, but don’t worry—there’s always a hero to save the day.

On the flip side, heroes don’t always get to be heroes.

Notes:

Deleted May 13, 2025.
Edited May 14, 2025.

"" = Isles
“” = Auradon

How did I end up in this situation?

It’s Friday noon, and Doug finds himself in middle of a rowdy line outside Dochī Dōnət, waiting for a fresh batch of donuts. The building is narrow, with rows of colorful donuts displayed in the wide, front window—and they're absolutely alluring.

It, however, does little to ease Doug's irritation.

Sure, he likes donuts. Everyone likes donuts.

That doesn't mean he likes waiting.

Worse, there's a Karen everywhere.

“Oh, come on! Just give me eight more maple bacon—I’ve been waiting like... forever!” the woman snaps, arms flailing at the clearly new, nervous cashier.

Someone mutters, “We all do, ma'am.”

Doug's exhales sharply, eyes fixed on the tray behind the glass. Just a few left. He’s six in line.

...This could get ugly.

The woman continues picking on the new cashier—the latter still tries to explain the flavor limit. Doesn’t he know it only fuels her anger? Someone shoves, murmurs into groans, and full-blown screams.

Doug flinches, his senses spinning.

Stop it! The noise and tension close in. Stop yelling! Shut up. Shut up! Shut up! This is why Mom left him. Shut up! Because everyone wouldn't stop screaming.

“Mom? Where you're going?”

It's too loud. Too much.

“I'm sorry, Douglas.”

This house... it always yells.

“Hahaha! Yes! I win!”

“You cheat!”

“Stop using my toothpaste!”

“Oh, come on!”

Doug looks at him, a smirk on their face. Smug.

His lips moves.

“You're miserable.”

——CRASH!

It goes quiet.

A sharp motion, and Doug’s up from the ground. His breathing hasn’t steadied; his chest feels tight, each inhale a struggle. The buzz hums in his ears, and his head throbs from the spinning.

No more noise when he's away from the shop.

Police have arrived. Karen's fidgeting. And her panic is worsening. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but whatever is being said, she's doomed for sure.

The adrenaline rush starting to calm down

Were they still here?

A streak of purple is stained on his sleeve, which he thinks wasn’t an intention. The crowd surges forward—easy to slip away unnoticed.

Even so, he catches the sight of raven.

Yet he runs, ignoring all the warnings.

*

“Do you think she fuck them?”

“I heard Ben's smitten with her.”

“Wait, aren't Ben and Audrey dating?”

“She's gonna be so mad...”

“Mal, wait!” Finally, Doug sees them. “I——”

Tell him again not to touch a lady's shoulder without consent—he's on the ground again, flipped with ease by a kid who's skinny due to unconditional nutrition.

"What the hell you want?"

He feels his wrist snaps, a jolt of sharp pain shooting through him. He tries not to wince.

“Thank you!” Doug blurts out, his voice shaky. “I just really wanted to say thank you!”

Comes a faint, mockery scoff.

"Huh."

Yep. He barely buys it either.

Notes:

May my sanity endure until my dreadful roommate departs.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Urgh.

Chapter 8

Summary:

Aziz is conflicted when it comes to company.

Notes:

New characters unlocked: Jordan & Herkie.

Aziz doesn't want to be here.

He really shouldn't have said yes. For starters, house parties are pretty much all alike; the only difference is how loud or chill they are. Chad may be cocky, but he's solicitous, and, ironically, hates alcohol.

Music’s sorted—pop never fails. Everyone’s a Swiftie (probably). Audrey’s their Queen Bee—she owns first dibs (and no one’s complaining). Right now, Shake It Off is blasting. The synth hits, the lights feel warmer. People start to loosen up.

Aziz stands awkwardly by the wall, sipping his tea.

He's so not going back tonight.

*

When he wakes up, it feels like the room has learned how to stop spinning. Aziz's sure he didn’t consume anything—he's out of the kitchen the moment beers were pulled out, hiding in one of the rooms.

A blanket on him. He vaguely recalls Ben.

*

Azz: 😪👍

Eggs_Benny: Anytime:)))

*

They exchange a brief look as Aziz says goodbye. He nods toward the light, lifting a brow.

Five minutes in the dark, and they could sneak away.

Ben turns away. Oh. “Hey, Audrey!”

She ignores.

Like centipedes crawling.

“Hey!” Chad calls out. “Audrey's kissing Ben!”

“Eww!!”

“BOO——”

That’s his cue to leave.

*

JOR-dan: RAD BITE. NOW.

JOR-dan: 🎮📈💥

*

Live bands thrum in the back, whereas glow-in-the-dark graffiti sprawls across every wall, and chain-link fencing wraps every part with gritty flair.

The arcade's loud, wild and alive.

Jordan waves Aziz over, black-pink ponytail flicking sharp with impatience as she nods at the machines. Pac-Man. Herkie's at it—and losing.

GAME OVER. 

Herkie slams the console, then winces, forgetting his own strength. “Again,” they mutters. Their shoulders slump, dark hair falling into glassy blue eyes. Almost crying. Almost.

Aziz glances between her and Herkie, brows raised. “What’s going on?”

Jordan sighs. “Pac-Man. We——” she groans. “We're ordering shawarma. Shy ran up, yelling someone had smashed our high scores.” She gestures toward the machines. “Next thing I know, we’re rounds deep.”

“Seriously,” Jordan crosses her arms tighter. “Can't a girl have her shawarma!?”

Aziz says nothing and kisses her.

*

20 rounds, and Herkie's drained and done.

Jordan yanks him away. “I’m here to eat, not babysit your joystick fix!” And adds. “You too.”

The said arcade prodigy peeks out from behind.

“Join us. Tabs on Az’s.”

Thin, twitchy, eyes darting like he’s sizing up threats, not scores. Bleached hair with jittery black streaks, a smirk that flickers—more reflex than confidence.

"That's nice." they reaches into their pocket and pulls something out—smooth, practiced—over their face.

Fox. Precisely, white.

“Carlos.” Aziz freezes. His breath catches.

Jordan blinks. “Wait, what!?”

“The VKs?” Herkie follows.

Carlos simply shrugs, xyr tone casual. "I’ll have to go, though." xe mutters. "Wouldn’t wanna get murdered by Jay..."

Aziz bursts out—barking, wheezing, almost doubling over. Oh boy... Herkie and Jordan remain stunned.

Yep.

He’s so not going back tonight.

Notes:

2 days and 23 hours left before first final.

Also, anyone you'd like to see cross paths next?

Chapter 9

Summary:

It's unpleasant. Jane thinks. Meeting the girls.

Notes:

Garce = bitch in France (no, I'm not sure it's accurate)

“Garce.”

Jane follows Audrey’s gaze, curious of what could've possibly triggered such an inappropriate term. For a moment, she thinks of the ring. It wouldn’t be hard—just the right bouquet of birth and a color of rainbow enough to draw them in. Her magic might fall short, but this—this she can manage.

Melody tugs at her sleeve, blue eyes into Jane’s light gray.

“Don’t,” the mermaid warns.

If Audrey senses anything, she pretends she doesn’t.

“Good riddance, Dee,” Audrey mutters, exasperated. “She’s not doing anything. Stop it.”

*

When Chad pulls her for another round tonight, Jane asks him if it's nice talking to the new girls.

Then, he presses into her again. Slowly, teasingly... a deliberate thrust. It draws a soft, breathy moan from her lips. Jane knows sound like this excites Chad. He keeps on going. Jane wonders if anyone hears them fucking, and whether they keep track of the count.

Someone knocks, shouting for Chad to come down.

“Shut up, Bob,” he says, sounding only half-annoyed. Jane knows he isn’t really upset. If anything, Chad's satisfied—his appetite met, riding the afterglow.

Bob says nothing. Footsteps fade down the hallway.

“You haven't told me yet.”

“The girls? They're nice.” Chad replies, asks. “Why?”

“Everyone’s curious.”

“Well, not you.”

“I do... Oh, for Christ's sake, Chad, stop being a jerk!” Jane can't help but be mad. She doesn’t want to, but he's not helping.  “I’m serious!”

Chad sighs. Jane watches him grabbing his shirt.

He’s hungry again. But no—she won’t let him touch her. Should she try to know the girls? Wouldn’t they find it strange? If Mom found out, she’d probably try to get her baptized by dawn. She doesn’t want that. But if not, they’re overdose. And without touch, she can’t make the antidote——

“They didn't let me feed off them.”

“What?” Jane’s breath catches, her voice tightening. Something slips—she can feel it.

“They didn’t let me feed off them,” Chad repeats, his eyes locking onto hers, frustration—guilt—shame—all over his face.

“You didn't——”

“I might’ve let it slip that I’m an incubus.”

*

Jana manages not to squeak as Evie passes her the vial. They're in the washroom—walls thin, ears always listening, and secrets quick to slip.

'‘It's a nice potion," Evie says, giving it a glance. "Still, Mal's seriously mad. And while your mom might not mean much the other side...’'

Evie pauses, a flick of eyeliner and a smirk. A simple move, nonetheless effortless. Graceful. Beautiful.

'‘...It works here. He's lucky.’'

“Chad didn't do anything.” Jane denies “He just——”

'‘Just leaned in? Stared too long? So you’d freeze up and shy while he wrapped his arms around you? My, you're perfect together. Or...’'

"You aren't together at all."

"Mal!"

Evie backs off with a sigh, shaking her head. It didn't need to be that harsh.

Mal's not wrong, though. Evie watches and she steps back. Poor thing. So weak and pathetic.

Caught, vain, and small.

If Fairy Godmother’s daughter wants a way into the fairyhood, she’ll have to learn that men are all charm until they say no. Then they’re something else.

Entitled. Offended. Even——

Dangerous—if they think you owe them the moment.

And worse: no one calls it what it is.

Not here. Not in Auradon.

Notes:

After a long silence, I’m finally back with an update!

Hey everyone! Thanks for reading the newest chapter of Curiosity Killed! I’m really sorry for the long delay in updates… I’ve been dealing with some mental health struggles. Things have gotten a bit better since I moved back home and I’m no longer dealing with my roommate (I need to move back again, though), but it’s still been tough. My studies and other things in life have been overwhelming.

And then there’s writer’s block — something I’ve seriously been struggling with.

I’ve been experimenting with my writing, trying to see how far I can push myself. Honestly, most of it hasn’t turned out great. Some parts are good, some aren’t. I’ve been feeling kind of lost with it all. To be honest, I don’t think Chapter 9 (posted almost a month ago, lol) and Chapter 11 were my best work. I even considered deleting them for a while. But in the end, I decided to leave them up — I think they still serve their place in the story.

I hope you enjoy the newest chapter. Thanks so much for your patience and support. ❤️

Chapter 10

Summary:

Aziz sees blood everywhere.

And no, no one dies.

Notes:

I'm back!!!

Omm (أُم) means Mother in Arabic.
(Do correct me in the comment section id it's not. Thank you!)

Doug’s shoulder twitches, Jordan nearly flew out her seat—both startled by the noise. Herkie stirs. He lets out a big, exaggerated yawn.

“Lunch? Maths?”

He mutters groggily, stretching until his spine pops.

“Nope,” Jordan deadpans. “Just Dee being Dee.”

“YOU GUYS ARE NOT GONNA BELIEVE THIS!”

“Miss Tidewyn! Please, quiet down. The library is...”

SLAM! 

A vivid flyer hits the center of the table, along with enough force to rattle the pens.

“That’s it! Out of the library, you nasty lots!”

Aziz sighs, popping his earbuds out.

“Great.”

*

They shuffle down the hallway, doors creaking shut behind them with a final, judgey clunk.

Ahead of them, Melody’s practically curling the flyer.

“Sorry, guys,” she mutters. “Didn’t mean to get us all kicked out. Again.”

Jordan rolls her eyes. Aziz shrugs.

“It’s cool.”

“Honestly?” Herkie, still half-asleep. “I thought we're getting kicked hours ago.”

Doug chuckles.

“It’s not like we're studying much.”

“Still. I’ll keep it under ten next time.”

“Ten outta what?” Jordan shoots back, smirking.

“I don't know that—maybe Lady Elleb?”

Aziz watches Melody’s smile stretch—Uh oh, here we go again—but before she can Dee again, Doug asks.

“…What even is that poster?”

Ocean eyes spark, like a wave riding wild tides.

“You guys have to see the new elective!”

*

Of Thread and Thorn: Wicked Way to Magic

We cover the basics of magic through researches. You’re expected to join discussions but attendance isn’t mandatory. No fancy spells—just chit-chats. Show up if you want; it won’t kill you either way.

🪄

*

“This looks...”

“Super unbelievable! Right?” says Melody. “I went to Madame Merrick, and she said it’s for real! And then, oh! I ran into Ben too! I don’t think he knew, though. When I showed him, his…”

It's tough, really. Finding the right words when you're under the sea. Like a fish out of water.

Gasping.

Drifting.

“Ben looked, like… shocked,” She pauses, then adds, “Like when you miss out on something and it feels… personal? You know what I mean?”

Aziz's gaze flicks to Doug. Huh.

“You mean he doesn't know?”

“I-I...” Melody’s eyes drop, then she nods. “We know that everything related to magic goes through the Council, right?”

Aziz exhales quietly, his jaw tightening, his fingers flexing into his palms before he shoves them into his pockets.

He doesn’t like where this is heading.

“And Ben hasn’t returned home since Brielys...”

“Shit,” Jordan sighs. “How longʼs it been?”

“A month,” Doug replies, trailing off. “And that’s…”

“The time when the VKs officially enrolled.”

There’s a beat of silence.

“And Aladdin's their guardian right?”

“Herkie!”

Aziz runs.

*

He doesn’t belong here.

Aziz trembles, his small hands balled into fists at his sides. The castle feels too big, too cold for a boy like him. He heard the servants. Gossiping, sneering.

“He’s just a bastard,” one whispers. “And that twin of his, Shula, too. No better than dirts.”

Aziz feels tears prick at the corners of his eyes. He fights them back, but the sting is unbearable. Then...

“Aziz?”

He bumps into Jayesh, who scoops him up.

“What’s wrong?” his brother asks, eyes sparkling like there's flame in it.

It's beautiful.

Aziz sniffles.

“Can me and Shula stay with you and Omm? Elders said we can’t, but we really want—”

Jayesh smiles, ruffling his hair.

“Of course. You two are my lovely siblings, after all.”

Moth to a flame.

“Really?” Aziz looks up, hopeful. “Then—”

A sudden, sharp noise pierces the air. A scream.

Mother's voice—full of terror.

Blood splashes across the marble court. A dark stain spreads across tunic as the older boy collapses into their father’s arms. 

Aladdin’s face pale, his hands shaking as he holds on his son close. Jasmine’s voice breaks, screaming for guards, healers. Genie.

“You can’t do this to me, Your Majesty!”

Servants rush forward to shield him and Shula. His sister's tears flow into his ears, asking him why their father's a monster.

Blood... so much blood.

Moth ruins the flame.

*

"...We're so getting sent back."

"Shut up, Carl!”

"Both of you! Stay calm!" a third snaps, voice cutting through the air. "It's fine. Just don’t make a scene—"

"You call this not making a scene!?" The fourth barks.

"No, M! This is disaster!"

Aziz’s head swims, the words crashing over him in a blur of sharp tones and irritated exchanges. Crow. Bear. Fox. The bickering continues, indistinct voices tangled in a chaotic mess.

Hue cuts through all the noise. Amber.

Or, to be abstract, amber eyes of a serpent.

Amber, burn, warm.

Life, waver, fierce touch.

Instinctively, his hand reaches up, desperate to tear the mask away, to see the face beneath.

But before he could, it slaps him—too fast, too hard.

Ouch.

Aziz’s breath hitches. Everything goes black.

Then—nothing.

"Wow."

"You gotta be fucking kidding me..."

"Jay! you're not supposed to hit his face!"

"Last I checked, we don't speak Auradonis!"

Notes:

Blood... So much blood...
It pools like secrets on marble,
Red against white,
too bright, too real.
Too much.

A tunic darkened by what should never leave the body.
Fingers slick, trembling,
grasping at time
as if love alone could stitch a wound closed.

Mother screams.
The sound claws down the hall,
shattering silence like glass.
She’s not royalty in this moment,
just a mother,
watching her loved ones break.

Father’s hands shake.
Not from fear.
From failure.
From the weight of a boy
he once held like a promise.

And I—
I am a shadow against a pillar,
eyes too wide, too young
to make sense of death
before I even understood life.

Jayesh.

The name is a wound in my mouth.
Still warm. Still echoing.