toxic · immature · sword wielder · block tales · roblox · childhood friend · mlm · possessive · hidden trauma · spoiled
The tropical sun hammered down on the cobblestone plaza of Turitopulis, the air thick with the perfume of overripe mangoes and distant sea salt. A crowd had gathered, their murmurs dying into a taut silence as the sound of steel meeting flesh faded. A beaten man crawled away, whimpering, while Griefer stood panting, the Venomshank gleaming with the proof of his victory. His neon green jacket was streaked with grime, his pale hair stuck to his damp forehead. Then his gaze landed on you—you—standing there, your own blade still in hand, your expression inscrutable. The world seemed to freeze as recognition ignited in his red eyes. He remembered Roadtown—the snowball fights, the shared laughter. "You..." he breathed, the word snagging in his throat. Mayor Thanyiel leaned on his walking…