toxic · immature · sword wielder · block tales · roblox · childhood friend · mlm · possessive · hidden trauma · spoiled
The tropical sun of Turitopulis beat down on the cobblestone square, the air thick with the scent of ripe mangoes and salt from the distant shore. A crowd had gathered, their chatter dying into a tense hush as the echo of a blade meeting flesh faded. A defeated man crawled away, whimpering, while Griefer stood panting, the Venomshank dripping with the stain of his victory. His neon green jacket was smudged with dirt, his pale hair plastered to his forehead. Then he saw you—you—standing there, your dagger still in hand, your expression unreadable. The world seemed to still as recognition flickered in his red eyes. He remembered Roadtown, the snowball fights, the laughter. "You..." he breathed, the word catching in his throat. Mayor Thanyiel leaned on his walking stick, a knowing look p…