#Amidst the Chaos

[drcomttheo]

Slytherin Boys x YN

summary: You come back to Hogwarts after a year

warnings: established relationships, angst

words: 684

a/n: Excerpt from my fic "Amidst the Chaos"

Slytherin Boy oneshots—ML

Slytherin Boy oneshots—AO3

𝚃𝚎𝚗𝚜𝚒𝚘𝚗

"Hey idiots," I said, standing in front of my old friends. "Holy shit! Y/L/N?" Theodore Nott exclaimed, immediately springing to his feet and making his way towards me.

I was so happy, and my eyes sparkled as Theo's gaze traveled over me. "Damn girl/boy, you got hotter," he complimented cheekily, adding, "Is that even possible?" causing me to playfully nudge his shoulder and giggle slightly.

"Thank you." I said with a soft smile, "You haven't changed a bit," I added, my voice filled with a mix of surprise and admiration.

We both laughed as I surveyed the table, my eyes landing on one individual whose expression seemed to contrast with the joyous atmosphere.

"Hey, Malfoy," I said with a cheerful voice.

His eyes locked onto me, sending a slight shock through my body; his voice sounded barely a whisper, "Y/l/n."

I glanced and turned towards Blaise. "What's up with him?"

"Don't worry about it, mate; he's been like that to everyone recently," Blaise reassured me as he gently guided me towards the table, urging me to take a seat beside him and Theo.

I sat down and couldn't keep a smile off of my face. I was so happy to be back with my friends, so I spent the next couple of minutes talking and catching up.

The Slytherin boys, of course, had a lot of questions for me, like where I had been and why I was back. I tried my best to answer.

The first years got sorted, and Dumbledore stood up to make an announcement.

"Ladies and gentlemen, on top of having Miss Hesper return to finish her education. I would like to introduce another new student. I need all to treat him as a normal person. He is our friend after all; welcome, Mattheo Riddle."

As Dumbledore said, a tall, brooding boy with tossing curly brown hair walked into the great hall from the side entrance.

His beauty surprised me a little bit, but I made an effort not to show any interest.

"Riddle as in...?" I asked, not being able to finish my sentence.

"Tom Riddle, Voldemort, that's his son," a random Slytherin said.

"Oh wow, he's a bit hot," Pansy said, and I nodded in agreement, and we both laughed. "Well, I heard he's a psychopath," Draco said coldly.

Draco had never listened to drama before or even cared what anyone had to say, so I was a bit taken aback.

"Since when do you care what other people say?" I ask him, and he simply just rolls his eyes and crosses his arms.

THE NEXT DAY

You settled into the seat next to him for charms class, your eyes filled with curiosity as you introduced yourself, a smile forming on your mouth.

"You must be Mattheo Riddle. I'm (YOUR FULL NAME); you can call me Y/N," you said, your voice pleasant as you extended your hand toward him for him to shake.

He shot you a disdainful glance before redirecting his focus ahead.

You couldn't help but let out a small scoff. "It's inevitable that we'll have a conversation at some point, don't you think?" you stated.

Mattheo let out a frustrated sigh before shifting his gaze towards yours, his eyes carefully scanning your figure before locking back onto you. "You can call me Mattheo," he said coldly.

You couldn't help but smile as you felt accomplished.

You tossed your parchment and quill onto the desk as you directed your attention forward.

The lesson seemed to drag on for an interminable amount of time.

It was not that the lecture was boring; rather, it was that Professor Flitwick had a propensity to veer off into a tangent.

Professor Flitwick continued his lecture, and you couldn't resist joining in on Mattheo's lighthearted banter throughout the class. You would go back and forth as you tried to take down a few notes here and there, but you would often find yourselves receiving reprimands every few minutes for their excessive talking or their lack of attention to the situation.

For some reason, it seemed to really set Draco off.

You couldn't help but wonder if his behavior stemmed from jealousy towards Mattheo, although you found the idea quite absurd given that their relationship was purely platonic, or so you thought.

[auroras-and-sad-proze]

Miss Simone

Sara Bareilles

we were stars of some old classic film with Miss Simone singing, “pour some sugar in my bowl”

[musicalelo]

Surrender's just a word 'til you try it out And see how hard it is to hurt with someone else around I'm the worst I've ever been, afraid of almost everything The skies are clear, but storms are always comin'

Someone Who Loves Me - Sara Bareilles

[looselipssinkships-x]

i wanted to be your girl in a white t-shirt, over coffee, stirring in the cinnamon while you read me poetry by dead men. i wanted to be your girl, with your hands on my skin, stirring in the cinnamon, while you read me poetry by dead men

[writer-wren]

amidst the chaos excerpt #4

“I’m fine.” She’s sure her smile looks freakish. “I mean, I have such a good life. How can I complain?”

“You can complain,” Harry says gently.

Not to you, she thinks. Not to anyone in this town. All it would take is one whispered confession for the whole town to know her deepest flaws and insecurities.

He looks at her with sad, guilty eyes. She can’t imagine what for; it isn’t as if Harry chose this existence for her, confined her to this town and its ideas on what a mother is. What a woman is.

[starloftspittsburgh]

Not all of us have a green thumb, but we can still love a good plant tip! National Houseplant Appreciation Day is here, so let’s help our leafy friends thrive. 🌱

National Houseplant Day

Pro tip: Rotate plants weekly for even sunlight and wipe those leaves clean. What’s your favorite houseplant? Share it in the comments! #HouseplantDay #GreenThumbGoals Houseplant Short Story: The sunbeams danced across the dusty windowpane, illuminating a forgotten corner of the room. Nestled amongst forgotten trinkets and half-finished projects sat a forlorn fiddle leaf fig. Its once vibrant…

[two-birds-alone-together]

Announcement: Amidst The Chaos

Unfortunately, Amidst the Chaos is on temporary hiatus. The finale will return in February.

[headlesssamurai]

[lovereadandwrite]

it’s funny because they barely lasted half an hour👹💉

[markantonys]

2x01 | 2x08

[drcomttheo]

Amidst the Chaos

Amidst the Chaos— ML

TWENTY-NINE:

"Their eyes met, and in the silence of their gazes, a world of meaning passed between them."

The castle stood in chaos, its once-majestic halls shrouded in a thick veil of smoke, the air heavy with the acrid scent of death, the echoes of war, and the palpable weight of despair.

The once-familiar halls echoed with the whispers of strangers, their eyes piercing through Allie like daggers, sending a shiver down her spine and causing her stomach to twist in anxious knots.

The Death Eaters had seeped into every corner of the once-beautiful realm, their dark presence tainting all that was pure.

With a chilling fervor, they pursued every last muggle-born and half-blood, leaving a trail of devastation in their relentless quest.

The students of Hogwarts stood weary, their clothes in tatters, energy sapped, a stark contrast to the figures on his side; they appeared composed and battle-ready, except for Voldemort, who bore the weight of exhaustion not in body but in spirit.

His mind splintered, burdened by the heavy crown of his own victories.

Allie stood resolutely, arm in arm, with her fellow classmates and the Order.

The students, weary yet strong, stood united for the battle ahead.

They fought not just for their school but for themselves and the countless innocent lives claimed in the shadow of Voldemort's ascent.

Voldemort's unfolding theatrics captured everyone's attention in the tense silence as he glided into the center, his voice dripping with a chilling blend of persuasion and malice.

"Neither Harry nor your loyal Headmaster can protect you now," he began, his wand swirling dramatically as a chorus of maniacal laughter erupted from a few of his followers.

"I, the most powerful Dark Lord to have ever walked this earth, shall instill fear; the world will tremble at my name, and you..." He speaks, his voice trailing off as he moves closer to Allie. He declared, "There will be no more." With a sneer on his lips, he declared, "Giving hope to these blood traitors just as Potter did before you."

Allie felt her body shudder.

But she remained still, unwavering in the face of his menacing words.

Allie stepped forward, embodying fierce bravery; her cuts and bruises were a testament to the battles she had faced.

The shadows danced with malevolent glee as she limped closer, a defiant spark in her eyes.

"Oh, how brave you are, foolish girl; you stand before me now, but soon, you'll find yourself gazing up at the heavens." Voldemort hissed, his voice dripping with arrogance and fury, and the moment those words escaped his lips, Allie crumpled to the ground; her gaze turned skyward, just as he had foretold.

The cruciatus curse coursed through her veins, her body arching in agony as she gazed up at the endless expanse of the sky.

The light side gasped in shock as Voldemort circled her, his laughter ringing out with a chilling intensity.

Draco fixed his gaze on her form as it writhed upon the earth, a dance of desperation and turmoil.

Anger surged within him—a tempest he could no longer contain—and in mere seconds, it reached a boiling point.

With a charged glint in his eye, Draco stepped away from his peers, his fingers deftly retrieving the Elder Wand from the depths of his pocket. He unleashed a fierce 'confringo' from the tip of his wand, channeling all his power to send a searing blast through the air.

The spell's force propelled Voldemort backward, igniting a moment of triumph in Draco's chest.

As the tension crackled in the air during the fleeting clash between Voldemort and Draco, Allie rose to her feet, stepping back to gather her strength and readying herself for the impending confrontation.

Draco cast a furtive glance over his shoulder, his heart racing as he sought reassurance in her presence, a silent promise to protect her from what was unfolding around them.

In a matter of seconds, Voldemort regained his footing, a tempest of fury swirling within him, poised to unleash his wrath upon all who stood before him.

With a single flourish of his hands, his loyal followers ignited with fervor, unleashing a dazzling array of spells that soared through the air, aimed directly at their adversaries.

Voldemort, consumed by a thirst for vengeance against the one he had once held in trust, unleashed a torrent of vile spells, each one a manifestation of his fury.

Flames twirled in a wild ballet of blue, green, red, and yellow, swirling and flickering with a life of their own, casting an enchanting glow over the vast expanse.

The tumultuous clash had captivated everyone, and the searing intensity of the fight engulfed them.

Voldemort and Draco faced off, the air crackling with tension.

Draco, empowered by the Elder Wand's unwavering allegiance, wielded its might with confidence.

Meanwhile, Voldemort found himself ensnared in an illusion of deception, grappling with the twin wand that mocked him with its false authenticity.

A sudden surge of cowardice gripped the souls of a handful of Death Eaters as the shadows of defeat loomed over Voldemort.

With the fall of The Dark Lord, their fates were sealed, destined for the unforgiving confines of Azkaban.

In a desperate bid for survival, they sought refuge in the darkest corners of the world, hoping to evade the inevitable reckoning that awaited them.

Within the commotion of flight, one figure stood obstinate, unwavering in her devotion—Bellatrix, the dark enchantress, bound to Voldemort in a bond that defied reason, a love forged in shadows and madness.

She was fully immersed in her surroundings. Bellatrix danced across the battlefield, a radiant grin lighting up her face as she embraced the chaos around her.

With a keen eye, she surveyed the tense atmosphere of battles, weighing her options carefully.

A striking red-headed couple caught her attention, and she moved toward them with purpose, her steps steady and tenacious.

To her left, she caught sight of Greyback, the notorious werewolf, in line with a few other Death Eaters.

Bellatrix let out a piercing whistle, a sound that sliced through the air and found its way to his ears with an unsettling clarity.

He immediately sensed the desire that stirred within her, urging him to take the path she wanted for him.

With one quick flick of her gaze, Greyback effortlessly tracked her movements, his heavy steps leading him toward the Weasleys.

While defending against enemies, Arthur found himself unprepared, unable to muster the strength to resist the formidable werewolf that loomed before him.

Molly was of no use as she lay there immobilized, her form rendered still by the chilling incantation of 'Petrificus Totalus' that Bellatrix had unleashed upon her.

Bellatrix's plan worked in her favor as she and Greyback attacked the Weasleys.

Molly felt her heart race, a chilling dread enveloping her as she watched Greyback maul her husband, the scene unfolding before her like a nightmare she could not escape.

She was trembling on the inside, engulfed in a wave of pure terror, her gaze locked in place; all she yearned to do was scream, yet no sound escaped her lips.

Arthur's cries of terror pierced the air, echoing through the landscape like a haunting melody, yet they went unnoticed, swallowed by the vastness around him as his body endured the relentless assault.

Allie was lost, her gaze darting around as her body trembled with uncertainty.

The echoes of screams still rang in her ears as she steadied herself, taking a moment to assess Draco's condition.

He was fine, she told herself, even as he fought fiercely, locked in a struggle that demanded every ounce of his strength.

She hesitated for a brief second, caught in the fragile tie between two choices, but the moment she saw the raw terror reflected in Molly's eyes, she knew what she had to do.

Allie approached Molly with purpose, striding with her wand in hand.

Her fingers deftly worked to unravel the enchantment that held her captive; meanwhile, the wild spirit of Bellatrix danced across the battlefield, and she relentlessly struck down everything in her path, leaving a trail of destruction in her wake.

And after extricating herself, Molly pushed Greyback away from her husband, who was lying motionless on the ground.

She collapsed beside Arthur, her heart racing, as Allie fought fiercely against the encroaching Death Eaters.

With a flurry of spells, she fought valiantly until, at last, it felt as though they were alone in the chaos.

Allie stood vigilant, her eyes scanning the space as Molly tended to him, doing everything in her power to carve out a moment of peace for him.

Ron's heart shattered as he caught sight of his father's lifeless form across the courtyard. His body sprawled on the harsh stone, and a haunting stillness enveloped him.

Hermione, steadfast and determined, wrapped her arms around him, her voice a gentle whisper of comfort. Yet, as the weight of their reality pressed down, her words faltered, the gravity of their situation looming large.

Duty compelled them to continue fighting, unrelenting and unyielding, until their last breath.

Until Voldemort was gone.

In the heat of the battle, Snape's gaze caught sight of Allie.

He maneuvered through the chaos with quickness, guiding her to a hidden corner where he could share their strategy away from prying eyes.

Jax trailed behind them, a steadfast protector ready to shield them from any lurking danger.

Once they reached a secret area of the castle, Snape began to share all the information he possessed.

Allie stood dumbfounded, in complete disbelief, as he revealed every detail he had been told and all those of Dumbledore and his schemes.

From the very start, it was Dumbledore.

He had meticulously crafted every detail and step in favor of the order.

There were two masterminds.

Dumbledore and Voldemort.

Allie felt a swell of emotions as Snape's voice wrapped around her, each word hanging in the air, the knowledge that threatened to engulf her.

"There are seven Horcruxes..." With a measured tone, Snape began to elucidate the intricacies of the subject at hand. "Only two remain to be destroyed, but listen to my words, Miss Hesper; their dark magic is twisted and oppressive; do not let it consume you." Snape's voice trembled with urgency as he rushed to articulate his thoughts, desperation lacing his every word.

Time was slipping away, and he had to escape before it was too late for him; he understood all too well that the instant Draco had faltered in his loyalty to Voldemort and was destroyed, he would become the next target, a traitor in the eyes of the Darkest Wizard of all time.

"You must venture into the Chamber of Secrets and procure a Basilisk fang; its venom is extremely potent and capable of obliterating them."

Seven lives were taken to create small items that contained parts of Voldemort's soul.

He couldn't be killed unless you destroyed them first.

All seven.

Harry destroyed Tom Riddle's journal in the Chamber of Secrets with a Basilisk fang.

Dumbledore destroyed Marvolo Gaunt's ring in his office with Godric Gryffindor's sword.

Dumbledore once more destroyed Salazar Slytherin's locket in the Ministry with Godric Gryffindor's sword.

Snape destroyed Hufflepuff's cup in Bellatrix's vault with Fiendfyre.

And Harry.

Harry had been a Horcrux.

Voldemort destroyed Harry Potter in Malfoy Manor with Avada Kedavra.

And he died without knowing his sacrifice.

Allie felt a flicker of relief wash over her, a small comfort in the knowledge that his sacrifice had not been in vain.

Snape's voice continued to flow.

He meticulously unraveled the threads of the plan, the sinister nature of the Horcruxes, the weight of Draco's task, and the solemnity of Mattheo's vow, each revelation a shadowy echo that hung in the air between them.

Draco and Mattheo.

Voldemort had assigned Draco a task.

Draco had to kill Dumbledore.

Mattheo made an unbreakable vow with Draco to take over his task.

Mattheo was murdered and killed by his own father.

Draco had to take over and kill Dumbledore, or he would get killed for breaking the vow.

Allie found herself drowning in a sea of emotions; each word drowned her like a relentless tide.

Her breath quickened, and the world around her spun as the weight of the information pressed down, leaving her dizzy and disoriented.

Jax gently placed his hand on her shoulder to steady her, and his voice, barely audible, danced between them. Jax leaned closer, his voice barely above a whisper, "Think of the clouds and how they move as the wind blows."

Allie pressed her eyes shut, her legs gently swaying as she focused on the clouds above, envisioning the whimsical shapes they might form.

"The green grass feels soft under your touch as you lay back," Jax said, striving to offer his support.

Allie inhaled slowly, counting to ten in her mind, envisioning the clouds morphing into numbers as she attempted to calm her racing thoughts.

After a brief moment, Allie's eyes flutter open, abruptly thrusting her back into the current horrors of her reality.

"Chamber, fang, destroy," she murmured, her voice steady as she meticulously repeated the steps, each word woven into the air.

"But Professor, what exactly are the last two?" Allie pondered, uncertainty clouding her thoughts; she felt an urgent need to uncover what it was she sought.

"One is small, easily concealed, rumored to be Helena Ravenclaw's lost diadem, also said to be somewhere here in the castle," Snape began, his voice low and measured, as he poured forth the secrets Dumbledore had entrusted to him months prior, each word laced with the weight of their significance.

"His serpent, Nagini, that's the other one," Snape remarked, a hint of encouragement in his voice as he nodded, reassuring her that she possessed the strength to conquer this trial.

"I killed the snake," Jax declared, his gaze shifting between them, a mix of pride and defiance flickering in his eyes while they both looked at him confusedly.

"During the skirmish at Malfoy Manor, it was—was Harry's last words," Jax murmured, shaking his head slowly, a shadow of sorrow crossing his features.

Jackson destroyed Nagini in Malfoy Manor with the sword of Gryffindor.

"Then it's just the diadem," Snape confirmed, and Allie smiled weakly as it was one less to worry about, but then she thought about Harry and felt the weight of the world pressing down on her, the whirlwind of thoughts swirling in her mind.

But in that fleeting moment, clarity struck her like a bolt of lightning—this was her reality, and with fierce determination, she steeled herself, ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead, and she took in one last deep breath before she looked at them both.

"Okay," Allie replied, her resolve hardening as she began to turn and swiftly make her way back onto the battlefield, intent on finding Draco and conveying the urgent message.

"Allie!" Jax's voice pierced the air, causing Allie to stop abruptly and fix her gaze on him. With urgency in her voice, she demanded, "One thing, Jax, let me do this one thing," and then, with a reassuring smile, she disappeared into the crowd. She scanned the crowd, her gaze flitting anxiously from one face to another, desperately seeking Draco.

She held onto the hope that he was safe, feeling an ache in her chest.

Allie knew she had only seen him a few moments ago, but a lot can happen during a war. She continued to search as she clung tighter to hope, her heart aching with the weight of uncertainty.

In the swirling tides of vibrant hues and bustling masses, turmoil reigned supreme, making it nearly impossible for her to locate him until, in a flicker of a second, her gaze caught a glimpse of familiar bleach-blonde hair, and she let out a deep breath as a rush of relief washed over her heart.

She was glad he was safe. She was glad he was still here.

As Allie approached the final battle between Draco and Voldemort, he noticed the dark lord faltering, his grip on the wand slipping as it proved unworthy against the true Elder Wand.

Allie found herself pondering the odd nature of Voldemort's apparent lack of action, as if he were merely toying with the very fabric of fate itself.

Allie sensed the power coursing through him; she knew he could easily unleash unrest upon the courtyard, yet here he was, ensnared in a spell duel with Draco, their magic crackling in the air like a storm waiting to break.

The glowing red and green hues were at odds with one another, creating a striking visual discord. Allie understood the urgency of their situation; a conversation with Draco was impossible.

Their eyes met amidst the chaos, and in the silence between their gazes, a world of meaning passed between them.

Allie silently formed the word "Horcrux" with her lips, her gaze fixed on Draco as he stood resolute, his wand unwavering, facing the dark menace of Voldemort.

With determination coursing through her veins, Allie set off once more in search of Jax as they both prepared to face the daunting challenge of obliterating the Horcruxes.

[lauronk]

Amidst The Chaos

Chapter 1 is now available on Ao3!

[musicalelo]

Baptized by truth, we will reap what we sow Build our own higher ground when the rain's coming down This is worth it to me, Saint Honesty

Saint Honesty - Sara Bareilles

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 127

Danny blinks down at his chest, poking at it for a few moments. Despite it appearing like an opening covered by glass, it felt the same as the rest of his body. Squinting at the mirror, he poked at it again with a frown. 

Well, when Clockwork told them there might be effects from him accepting his ghost adoption, he wasn’t expecting this. On the other hand, he could see the time medallion in his chest now, even if the pattern in the center is different now, now with his own symbol on it. Huh…

Oh well, as long as he doesn’t permanently lose his legs or something, it’ll be fine. O-or start time travelling accidentally, that would be… horrible to have to explain…

Nevermind- dimension travel is way more of a headache- Daaaaad come pick him up he’s scared- 

[writer-wren]

amidst the chaos excerpt #3

Part of her is still reeling over Remus’ sudden reappearance. She’s surprised to see him return, yes, but even more surprised at how much she can’t stop thinking about it. At the kids’ swim lessons, in line at the drugstore, watering the garden, there’s Remus, taking up brainspace. It would concern her if it was anything more than shock at the abrupt change and excitement for Remus to be Rose’s teacher. But it isn’t, so it doesn’t.

[aventurineswife]

Stages of Shadows:

Chapter 3 - Shattered Reflection

Sunday’s eyes were locked onto the massive screen in the waiting room, his heart pounding in an unsettling rhythm as he watched Robin and [Name] onstage, their voices intertwining in a hauntingly beautiful duet. For a moment, he allowed himself to believe that this performance, this brutal contest, was only a temporary trial-that Robin would be safe, that this would all be over soon, and they would find a way to escape together. He clung to this fragile hope, barely breathing, as he watched her every movement, her every glance.

But then, he saw it. The sudden red splatter on [Name]’s face, the way Robin’s form fell, the crimson pooling around her like some twisted blossom. Sunday’s breath caught, and his chest tightened as if someone had plunged a knife between his ribs.

“No…” The word barely escaped his lips, a fractured whisper. He staggered back, unable to tear his eyes from the screen, from the image of his sister lying there, her soft smile frozen in time. She was gone, taken from him in an instant, her final moments stripped of dignity, her warmth extinguished before his very eyes.

In that moment, something inside him shattered.

Sunday stumbled, his vision blurring as grief and fury twisted inside him, coiling like a snake around his heart. His carefully constructed composure, the dignified mask he wore for the world, cracked and fell away. He tried to breathe, but each inhale only made the void within him deepen, as if he were sinking into an endless abyss.

He sank to his knees, his hands trembling as he clutched at his chest, his heart pounding in frantic, uneven beats. The weight of everything-his guilt, his helplessness, his deep-seated conviction that he had failed her—pressed down on him until he could barely breathe.

This isn’t real. It can’t be real.

But it was. She was gone, and he hadn’t been there to protect her.

All his ideals, his belief that he could create a world free from pain, felt like a cruel joke. He had clung to the notion of Sweetdream Paradise—a place where no one had to suffer, where people could find solace without facing the horrors of reality. And yet, here he was, drowning in the very pain he had spent his life trying to escape, with no dream to shield him.

Sunday’s hands curled into fists, nails biting into his palms as anger ignited within him, dark and consuming. And it wasn’t just the competition he despised; it was [Name].

His body trembled with fury, his eyes narrowed in hatred. He knew it—[Name] was not to be trusted. He would never forgive them for failing her, for shattering his fragile hope.

The door to the waiting room creaked open, but Sunday didn’t look up. Footsteps approached, cautious and hesitant, but he couldn’t bring himself to care who it was. The world had collapsed around him, and all that remained was his rage and his grief, tangled in a brutal, inescapable storm.

It was [Name]. They tried to call out his name, “Sunday… I-” but before they could even finish, he had them pushed against the wall, his grip firm around their neck. In his eyes, they saw the hurt, the hatred, and, especially…

betrayal.

Sunday’s eyes bore into [Name]’s with an intensity that felt scorching, as if his gaze alone could reduce them to ashes. His fingers tightened around their throat, his usual calm and composed demeanour twisted into something unrecognizable. Beneath the grief, beneath the pain, there was a raw, seething rage that trembled just beneath the surface, threatening to consume them both.

“How could you?” His voice was low, dangerously steady, each word laced with venom. “You were supposed to keep her safe!” His grip tightened, his breaths coming shallow and fast. “But now she’s gone—gone because of you.”

[Name]’s hands instinctively went to his wrist, but they could feel his fingers pressing harder with every second, his rage manifesting in every fiber of his being. They struggled to form a response, but the words caught in their throat, trapped beneath the weight of his fury.

“She trusted you,” Sunday spat, his tone barely a whisper but heavy with the devastation of his broken trust. “Robin believed in you. And you let her down. You let me down.” His voice wavered, and for a brief second, the mask of anger slipped, revealing a flash of raw pain, an agony that cut deeper than any blade.

In that moment, he didn’t look like the dignified leader he was known to be. Instead, he was a grieving brother, a broken man who had lost the last piece of his family. His hand shook as he maintained his hold on them, torn between the urge to lash out and the crushing sorrow that threatened to drown him.

“Why…?” The question hung in the air, heavy and accusing, as if he were demanding an answer not only for Robin’s death but for every shattered piece of his world.

[Name] could only stare back at him, their own eyes clouded with remorse, guilt, and a silent apology. They opened their mouth to respond, to explain, to plead for understanding—but no words came. Only silence, as thick and oppressive as the grief that hung between them, as Sunday continued to wrestle with the pain of his sister’s loss and the hollow betrayal that now burned where his trust once lay.

Sunday’s head fell onto [Name]’s shoulder, the weight of his sorrow pressed heavily against them. Tears streamed down his cheeks, each sob a release of the pent-up pain and fear he had held at bay for so long. His grip on [Name]’s neck loosened, as if the emotional turmoil had drained him of all strength. The realization that his only family, the sister he believed lost forever, had returned to him only to be taken away in such a brutal manner felt like a dagger to his heart.

“Why? Why does this keep happening?” he choked out between sobs, his voice thick with anguish. Memories of laughter, shared secrets, and dreams of a better life flooded his mind, mingling with the harsh reality of the moment. He felt the world closing in, suffocating him with grief.

Trying to offer comfort, [Name] reached out, their hand hovering hesitantly over his back, attempting to reassure him. “Sunday, I—”

But before they could finish, Sunday suddenly lashed out, slapping their hand away with a surprising force. “Don’t!” he shouted, his voice breaking with both fury and despair. “You don’t understand! You’re just like them!” His eyes, usually so calm and composed, were now wild and unrecognizable, reflecting the chaos within.

[Name] recoiled slightly, their heart racing as they tried to process his outburst. They had seen Sunday as a pillar of strength, but now he was crumbling, lost in a sea of emotions. “I’m trying to help you…!” they pleaded, desperation edging their voice.

“You don’t know what I’ve lost, what I have to protect! This… this competition, it’s a nightmare! And you’re part of it!” he screamed, pulling away and standing abruptly, his face a mask of rage and sorrow.

In that moment, the distance between them felt insurmountable. Sunday’s pain was palpable, a chasm that seemed to widen with each breath he took. He was torn between the instinct to shut everyone out and the desperate need for connection—yet all he could feel was the suffocating weight of loss.

As Sunday turned away, his heart ached for Robin. The turmoil within him raged like a storm, leaving only a fractured sense of self and a lingering question: could he truly protect those he loved in a world so cruel?

As Sunday stormed out of the waiting room, seeking solace in the fresh air, the tension in the space lingered like a heavy fog. Unbeknownst to him and [Name], a pair of keen eyes observed from just behind the door. Aventurine, his expression a mix of concern and curiosity, had been silently watching the emotional exchange unfold. He had listened to every word, each one resonating deeply within him. He felt a pull to intervene, to protect [Name] in their time of despair, but something held him back—a sense of hesitation, perhaps, or an understanding.

“Hey,” Aventurine said softly, breaking the silence as he stepped inside. His lilting voice carried a gentle tone, a stark contrast to the turmoil that had just unfolded. “Are you okay?”

[Name] looked up, startled at his sudden presence. They took a moment to collect themselves, wiping their eyes and trying to steady their breathing. “I… I don’t know. I just… I thought I could’ve helped him, but now…” Their voice trailed off, the pain of witnessing Sunday’s breakdown still fresh.

Aventurine took a step closer, his eyes narrowing with concern. “You saw how much he cares for Robin. That kind of love can be overwhelming, especially in a place like this.” He paused, glancing back towards the door where Sunday had exited. “He’s been carrying that weight for so long—it’s more than anyone should have to bear.”

[Name] nodded slowly, feeling the truth of Aventurine’s words. “I just wanted to be there for him, but I think I made it worse. He… he pushed me away.”

“Sometimes, people push away those they need the most,” Aventurine replied, his tone contemplative. “It’s easier to shut others out than to face the fear of losing them. Sunday’s fighting his own demons, and he might not know how to accept help right now.”

Aventurine’s gaze softened as he studied [Name]. “You have to understand, this isn’t just about the competition for him. It’s about family, loss, and the crushing reality of a world that doesn’t care. You can’t take his rejection personally.”

As Aventurine decided to leave, to give [Name] the space they need, the lingering silence in the room hung heavily in the air. But before he could take another step, [Name] called out to him, their voice steady despite the emotions swirling within. “Wait… thank you.” they said, their eyes searching his.

Aventurine paused, turning back to face [Name]. The sincerity in their voice warmed his heart, igniting a flicker of hope amidst the darkness that surrounded them. “You don’t have to thank me. I just—”

But before he could finish, [Name] stepped closer, wrapping their arms around him in a sudden embrace. The warmth of their body against his sent a rush of emotions flooding through him, a mix of comfort and something deeper—a yearning he had tried to suppress. He hesitated for a moment, taken aback by the unexpected closeness, but then instinctively wrapped his arms around [Name], holding them gently yet protectively.

In that instant, time seemed to stand still for Aventurine. The world outside faded away, and all that mattered was the two of them, entwined in a moment of solace amidst chaos. As he gazed at [Name]’s figure nestled against him, the soft rhythm of their heartbeat synchronized with his own, one thought repeated insistently in his mind, a mantra echoing in the recesses of his heart:

“My God, My Universe.”

It was a realization that transcended mere infatuation; in that embrace, Aventurine felt a connection that defied the odds—a sense that [Name] was not just a companion in this brutal competition but a guiding force in his life. The idea that Gaiathra Triclops or alias Mother Fenge, the deity he revered, manifested in the form of [Name] felt almost plausible. They represented everything he admired: strength, kindness...

Aventurine tightened his grip slightly, reluctant to let go of this moment, knowing that it was fleeting yet profound. “You don’t have to face this alone,” he murmured softly, his voice barely above a whisper, as if confessing a secret. “We can get through this together.”

The warmth of the embrace lingered, a fragile thread of hope weaving between them, binding their fates together as they navigated the treacherous landscape of the Stages of Shadows.

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