Happy post-Valentine's Day! Back to regular Builderoth ;)
Another oneshot no one asked for but was sitting in my drive for a while. Enjoy!
Malroth's not entirely human and the Builder's pretty okay with that.
Monstrous
First came the wings.
No one knew how it happened or why, but Malroth was ecstatic. At first, he'd been a little weirded out by the fact that one morning he'd suddenly sprouted dragon wings, but he soon learned that they weren't useless: he could fly. He could cover long distances and he could even bring the Builder with him. And actually, once he'd gotten used to his newfound ability, he'd picked her up bridal-style and they'd gone flying together, her giggles and excited cheers loud amidst the steady flapping of his wings and the sound of air whooshing past them. Malroth could zip through the skies as much as he liked and he was almost proud of his new appendages.
He became even more proud when lots of villagers asked to touch his wings. They were leathery and purple, but they were cool! Some of the people seemed to be a little afraid of his appearance, but once they saw him and the Builder soaring through the skies, their opinions of him changed. Malroth was already a celebrity on the Isle of Awakening, but now he was definitely the talk of the island.
The master of destruction also used his newfound ability to pester Lulu. The Builder was starting to lose count over how many times she'd had to yell at him to put Lulu down after he'd snatched the indignant girl up and did laps around the island all while a sputtering Lulu freaked out over how high up they were, Malroth laughing all the while as he pretended to loosen his grip on her.
First came the wings. Then his nails got sharper.
Malroth's fingernails had always been black. If one didn't know him, one would think he had filthy nails, but the onyx-colored enamel was, well, natural for him. In fact, the Builder initially thought it was nail polish; his nails shone if the light hit them correctly.
One morning, however, when Malroth was getting ready for the day, he pulled on his gloves only to feel them rip through at the fingertips. His nails had somehow become sharper, almost claw-like. He couldn't exactly use this development to pull a fast one on Cerulean Steppe's self-proclaimed princess, but he still took it in stride. He supposed there were some pitfalls to being an alter-ego of the true god of destruction, claw-like nails and wings being such pitfalls, but they weren't anything seriously upsetting.
The Builder was kind enough to make him a few new pairs of gloves and he took greater care when putting them on. Malroth figured that his ripped gloves had been worn out anyway; he'd been meaning to ask the Builder to make him a new pair. His claws had merely done him a favor and sped things up.
For a little while, these were the only changes. Any hubbub over Malroth's appearance quickly faded as the other residents returned to building and enjoying their time on the island. No one batted an eye when they saw a spiky-haired male soaring through the skies above and no one seemed to mind when they saw him eat, his gloves discarded and his black claws in full view. To everyone, he was still Malroth: the other half of the heroic duo who'd saved the world and brought hope back into their lives.
However, not long after he developed claws, it was when Malroth stopped leaving his house that the Builder grew suspicious of a third change taking place. They'd had a lovely evening at Den's bar and then suddenly, the next day, Malroth claimed he wanted to spend the day at home. The Builder had, of course, been taken aback when he hadn't even opened his front door to greet her; he'd simply called to her from behind it. At first, she didn't press; perhaps Malroth was feeling ill and just wanted to be left alone to recuperate. That, or perhaps he just wanted some time to himself. Whatever the reason, she gave him the space he asked for and busied herself with odd jobs around the island.
But after a week, that's when the blonde decided to find out what was really going on. This wasn't like him at all and she was starting to get worried. What could possibly make Malroth want to hide himself away from everyone?
Even Perry, someone who was a little afraid of Malroth, had approached her one day and inquired about the man's absence.
"'E was supposed to 'elp us with smashin' some rocks to build a new field," the farmer had explained. "But 'e never showed up. We managed wivvout 'im, but still. You reckon 'e's alright?"
"I don't know, but I'm gonna find out," the Builder promised, and sure enough, after grabbing some food to bring to him (because if he was actually suffering from an illness, he'd need all the nutrition he could get and she'd make sure of it), she headed up the hill and towards the castle-like house she'd built for him right after they'd saved the world. Once at his doorstep, she knocked loudly.
"Malroth!" When he didn't respond, she continued: "C'mon, I know you're in there! Please open up!"
"Go away!"
His voice sounded uncharacteristically hoarse and... sad?
Alright, that does it.
The Builder narrowed her eyes and fished through her pocket for the spare key she'd made. Unlocking the door, she burst into the room and he jumped from where he'd been sitting on the bed, his wings resting on some pillows propped up against the headboard. His boots were on the floor and his jacket was neatly folded on the nightstand; he stared at her with incredulity.
"What the hell, Builder?!"
She glared at him, hands on her hips. "What the hell, Malroth? I haven't seen you in a week and I... I... Oh?"
The blonde paused when she realized the destructive young man truly had undergone a third change. There was another pair of arms underneath the original pair, and they just as strong, toned, and tan like the rest of him. The upper pair, most likely his original arms, were supporting him as he leaned back, but the new pair were folded across his chest.
It suddenly occurred to the Builder that he now had four arms instead of two. Wings and claws were one thing, but wow, this was certainly different...
As her eyes took in this new development, she happened to glance up and meet her best friend's gaze. For the first time since she'd known him, Malroth looked nervous, like she'd discovered a secret she wasn't supposed to find out about. To his credit, though, he didn't yell at her and he didn't scream, "Get out!" like he could've. Instead, he looked away and neither of them said anything for a spell, the Builder too shocked to form coherent thoughts.
She'd never seen someone with four arms before. The more she looked at him, the more she began to wonder if this was why he'd been hiding. Wings and claws were one thing, but another set of arms?
Her previous ire forgotten, the Builder eased the door closed behind herself and made her way towards the bed. She sat next to him and took it as a small victory when he didn't try to push her away or move away from her.
"So, um..." she fiddled with her hands. "When did they—"
"A few days after the claws came in," he grumbled, still not looking at her. After a few heartbeats and what felt like an eternity of awkward silence, the Builder decided enough was enough and gently placed a hand on his cheek. She turned his face towards hers, his eyes meeting hers in uncertainty. She was surprised to see him so vulnerable but she supposed everyone had their moments, even Malroth, and the fact that he looked very much inhuman was definitely cause for him to feel out of sorts.
Inhuman or not, though, he was still her best friend. He was still her Malroth.
"Can you move them?" the Builder asked, and he nodded affirmatively. His original arms stretched above his head while the second pair reached forward, the hands flexing their fingers. The Builder had to admit, though it was not something she'd ever seen before, it was kind of cool. If Malroth were to ever drop something, at least he'd have two more hands to catch it!
"Well, they're definitely not something you see everyday, but I think you look good with them," she assured, offering him a kind smile. It was the truth; if anyone could pull off the half-god, half-human look, it was Malroth.
"I look like a freak," he deadpanned. It was that moment when the Builder realized there was a bit of sadness in his eyes as well. He was ashamed and sad and... Was that also a sliver of fear? Was he afraid of what the others thought? Of what she thought?
...So that was why he'd shut himself away. He was afraid of the others' reactions to his changed appearance. For once, Malroth was self-conscious about himself.
The Builder shook her head. "Mal, trust me, you don't look like a freak."
"Oh yeah? Do you know a lot of people who have four arms?" he shot back, finally swatting her hands from his face. He was scowling, but she knew he wasn't mad at her; he was hating on himself. "What's next, scales and horns? Actually no, don't answer that, because that's the last thing I need. I can't show my face in public ever again. I look hideous. Who the hell has four arms?!"
Her heart broke a little for him. "But you don't look—"
"Yeah I do. What kind of freak looks the way I look?"
The Builder gently took his hands into hers, his sharp black nails contrasting nicely against her porcelain skin. "Just because your appearance may have changed a little doesn't mean you have, and I think I can speak for everyone when I say that something like this isn't enough to change our opinion of you. No one thinks you're a freak and no one will ever think you're a freak. True friends don't care about physical appearances."
He softened a little at her words, yet something continued to bother him. He met her eyes meekly.
"Builder... How am I supposed to face everyone when I... when I look like him?"
Malroth didn't need to specify who "him" was. It was clear that he hated anything to do with his alter ego, and it was a huge kick to the teeth that with each passing day, his appearance grew increasingly similar to the unholy entity that had nearly destroyed their world.
"You don't look like the other Malroth," the Builder argued. "And even if you somehow did look like him, we all know you aren't him. You're the furthest thing from being him."
"But what if the others—"
"Anyone who truly cares about you is not going to care what you look like, they'll only care about you," the blonde stated matter-of-factly. "You saved the world, remember? And I can't count how many times you've protected all of us, or how many times you led all of us to victory even when the odds were stacked against us, and although you weren't able to help us build, you still encouraged all of us to do our best. You'll never be the god of destruction; you'll only ever be you, and we all like you just the way you are."
Growing bold, the Builder lifted her hands to cup his jaw and he closed his eyes, leaning into her touch.
"What if they laugh?" he whispered.
"If they laugh, I'll clobber them." That earned her a chuckle. "Seriously though, I doubt anyone will laugh or treat you differently. And why would they? Everyone on the Isle thinks the world of you, including me."
"None of this is normal," he continued, opening his eyes again. The raw emotion there made the Builder want to hug him, and by all rights she would've, but she wanted to give him a chance to voice his fears. It wasn't often that he felt this way and she wanted him to feel comfortable opening up to her. "I mean, I... I know I'm not normal by default, but..."
The Builder giggled. "Are any of us really normal? Come on, Mal, we're all a little weird, some more than others. Whether you've got two arms or four, you fit right in with the rest of us; you always have and you always will. And besides, you're looking at this the wrong way! The next time Dougie challenges you to wrestle, you'll be guaranteed a victory."
At that, the worry and vulnerability left Malroth's face and he perked up a bit. "I guess that's true."
"And now when we go flying, you'll have less of a chance of dropping me." She nudged him playfully. "Or Lulu."
He chuckled. "Another good point."
"Plus..." Bashfulness lit her eyes. "Another set of arms means more cuddles."
Malroth leaned in close to her face, his nose brushing against hers. The naughty smirk that lifted his mouth did funny things to her tummy. "Are you saying you like cuddling with me?"
Numerous memories of her waking up to find him curled around her came to mind, but she feigned ignorance. "Maaaybe..."
"There is no 'maybe,' Builder."
"Well, there is now. What are you gonna do about it, hmm?"
He chuckled again. One of his hands cupped her cheek as his lips hovered dangerously close to hers. "Are you really challenging me?"
The Builder pecked his lips teasingly. "As you always say: come get some."
He growled and pulled her onto his lap, one set of arms wrapping around her waist while the other rested around her shoulders, his lips claiming hers in a searing kiss. The Builder giggled before giving into him and they spent the rest of the evening together, the Builder's assignments and Malroth's insecurities forgotten as they lost themselves in each other.
The next day, no one made any remarks about how Malroth had sprouted a second pair of arms (although some were curious about it, they certainly didn't think him a freak as he'd feared). Instead, the talk of the Isle revolved around how that very afternoon, Malroth and the Builder emerged from the destructive young man's home looking rather disheveled. They held hands as they made their way to Lillian's for a late breakfast (lunch?) and ignored the glances they received. Apparently the Isle of Awakening's heroic duo had finally become an item... To the Isle's knowledge, anyway. If Malroth and the Builder had become a thing before that, they'd managed to keep it hidden well.
Malroth never did develop horns or scales, but those extra set of arms did come in handy during his roughhousing with the miners. In fact, he looked even more awesome when they held flexing contests.
And that second pair of arms certainly came in handy when he wanted to shower a little extra love on his favorite blonde Builder.
