#i never thought i would finish a legacy challenge

[simnnah]

julie officially aged up to a young adult so this will be the final gameplay post of the stardew valley challenge! on to the next one and new beginnings, yayyyyy!

also julie is literally so pretty i cant deal with it

[elikajinnie]

hiii I LOVED ur ni-ki hogwarts au and I wanted to request more for ni-ki in hogwarts au if that’s okay 😭😭?? I love ur writing, it’s really immersive and I’ll definitely look forward to many more of ur writings 😭🫶

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘽𝙚𝙖𝙪𝙩𝙮 𝙊𝙛 𝙎𝙣𝙤𝙬 𝘼𝙣𝙙 𝙄𝙘𝙚 - N.R

AHH THANK UU!! I was quite unsure if you wanted part 2 from the previous one, but nahh i will give you all a new scenario :) (Big thanks to bestie @starf4lls for the help for this one!! Ily! <3 (thanks for buying me hogwarts legacy, will never forget it)

P: Slytherin!Ni-ki X Fem!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Teasing

Synopsis: When you transfer to Hogwarts from Ilvermorny, you quickly catch the attention of Nishimura Ni-ki, a charming Slytherin.

masterlist

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The Great Hall was abuzz with excitement. Students filled the long, wooden tables. The Sorting Hat had just finished placing the last of the first years into their respective houses, when Professor Dumbledore stood up from his ornate chair at the staff table. He raised a hand, and the hall fell silent.

“Congratulations to all our new first years,” Dumbledore began, his voice carrying effortlessly across the room. “We are thrilled to have you join our Hogwarts family. But tonight, we have another special announcement. This year, we have the pleasure of welcoming a new student from one of our neighboring schools, Ilvermorny. Please join me in extending a warm welcome to Y/N.”

The massive doors at the back of the hall creaked open, and all eyes turned to see you entering, flanked by the ever-grumpy caretaker, Filch. Your plain robes set you apart from the others, and you couldn’t help but gaze around in wonder at the majestic hall, the floating candles, and the enchanted ceiling.

As you made your way to the front, the murmur of whispers followed you, a mix of curiosity and excitement. Filch gestured towards a stool where the Sorting Hat sat waiting. “Please, take a seat, Miss,” he said gruffly. You nodded, smiling nervously, and perched on the stool as Professor McGonagall approached with the Sorting Hat.

She placed the hat gently on your head, and you felt it settle over your eyes. For a moment, there was only silence, and then a voice echoed in your mind. “Ah, a transfer from Ilvermorny…interesting. Where to put you, where to put you?”

After what felt like an eternity but was merely seconds, the hat declared your house. The table erupted in cheers, and you made your way over, greeted by friendly faces and welcoming smiles.

You didn’t notice the pair of piercing eyes from the Slytherin table, watching your every move. The gaze was intense, like a predator sizing up its prey. As you took your seat among your new housemates, you felt a shiver run down your spine, unaware that someone had taken a particular interest in you from the moment you stepped into the Great Hall.

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Life at Hogwarts had turned out to be both thrilling and challenging, but you adapted quickly. The first few weeks had been a whirlwind of lessons, new faces, and navigating the sprawling castle. At first glance, you might have appeared aloof, often lost in thought or daydreaming as you strolled through the corridors or took your seat in class. But in truth, you weren’t lost at all. You excelled in your studies, quickly mastering spells and absorbing knowledge at a pace that even impressed your professors. You built a tight-knit group of friends, mostly from your house but with a few from other houses as well.

Still, there were odd moments when you couldn’t shake the feeling that someone was watching you. A tingling awareness would prick at the back of your neck as you walked to class or studied in the library. Yet, every time you turned to look, no one seemed to be paying you any special attention. You’d shake it off, wondering if you were just imagining things, and continue on with your day.

But today, during Charms class, that lingering feeling returned. You were sitting near the front, dutifully taking notes as Professor Flitwick explained a particularly tricky spell. As you wrote, you felt it again—that unmistakable sensation of being watched. This time, instead of turning your head sharply, you let your eyes slowly drift upward, keeping your head down and posture casual.

That’s when you saw him.

Sitting in the back row, partially obscured by a few of his Slytherin housemates, was a strikingly handsome boy. His black hair fell over the left side of his face, casting a shadow over one eye, but the other was locked on you with an intense focus that sent a shiver down your spine. He didn’t look away when you noticed him. In fact, he seemed amused by the fact that you had caught him staring. He tilted his head slightly, and for a brief moment, a small smirk tugged at the corner of his lips. His gaze was dark, calculating, but there was something exhilarating about having it fixed on you.

You blinked, heart racing, and quickly averted your gaze back to your notes, trying to focus on the lesson. But the curiosity gnawed at you, distracting you from the spells and incantations. With a soft hum, you scribbled a quick note in the corner of your notebook: Who’s the dark-haired Slytherin on the last row to the left?

You slid the notebook toward one of your Ravenclaw friends sitting beside you, a clever boy named Adrian. He glanced down, read your note, then discreetly lifted his gaze to the back of the class. His eyes landed on the boy before he quickly scribbled a response and slid the notebook back to you.

That’s Nishimura Riki, but he goes by Ni-ki.

You read the note and nodded lightly, casting another glance toward the back of the room. Ni-ki was still watching you, his eyes meeting yours as soon as you looked up. This time, you didn’t look away so quickly. Instead, you absently caressed the feather of your quill, feeling a rush of anticipation as his gaze lingered.

Ni-ki, huh? You thought to yourself, a faint smile tugging at your lips.

When class ended, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. As the other students filed out of the room, you packed your things, trying to act as though your thoughts weren’t entirely preoccupied with the tall, dark-haired Slytherin.

You slipped your notebook into your bag and slung it over your shoulder. Heading for the door, you kept your gaze ahead, your heart still racing slightly from the earlier encounter. As you stepped through the doorway and into the hallway, you turned to glance back, almost instinctively.

And that’s when you bumped into something solid—someone solid.

Startled, you looked up, and your breath caught in your throat as your eyes met his. It was Ni-ki, standing impossibly close, his tall frame towering over you. His presence was even more imposing now that he was right in front of you, and for a moment, you were struck speechless.

“Oh—sorry!” you blurted out, feeling your cheeks warm as you took a small step back.

Ni-ki didn’t move, but the hint of a smirk played at his lips, the same one you had seen earlier in class. “Don’t apologize, it’s okay,” he said, his voice smooth, rich with an underlying confidence that made your pulse quicken.

Up close, he was even more striking than you had realized. His sharp eyes were intense, framed by dark lashes that gave him an almost mysterious air. His lips, full and soft, curled slightly as he observed you, and his skin was flawless and smooth.

You blinked, trying to collect yourself, but being this close to him had thrown you off balance. He watched you for a moment longer, his gaze unwavering, as if he was reading something in you that no one else had ever seen.

“Hey you’re from Ilvermorny, right?” he asked, his voice pulling you out of your thoughts.

You nodded, a little too quickly. “Yeah, and you're… Ni-ki?” you replied, your voice coming out steadier than you expected.

“Exactly,” he said, flashing a charming smile that made your heart skip a beat.

Just then, you remembered something. “Actually, it’s Y/n,” you corrected him gently, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

His grin widened, and he leaned in slightly, the distance between you diminishing even more. “I know,” he said playfully, his tone teasing. “But I think ‘Ilvermorny’ suits you better. It has a nice ring to it.”

Your cheeks flushed at the nickname, and you couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re really going to call me that, aren’t you?”

“Absolutely,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eyes. “It’s perfect, and it’ll remind everyone that you’re something special. Plus, it’s a good conversation starter.”

“Fine,” you conceded, a smirk playing on your lips. “But only if you promise to call me by my real name sometimes too.”

“Deal,” he said, his voice smooth and confident. “But for now, I think Ilvermorny has a nice charm to it, don’t you?”

Before you could think of how to respond, he took a small step back, giving you some space but not breaking eye contact. “I’ll see you around, Ilvermorny,” Ni-ki said, his voice smooth as ever, as he turned and began walking away, his pace unhurried.

You stood there for a moment, watching him as he disappeared down the hall. The encounter left you feeling oddly exhilarated, your heart still pounding in your chest.

As you turned to head back to your common room, one thought echoed in your mind: Ni-ki is definitely someone to keep an eye on.

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Over the next few weeks, you started noticing Ni-ki’s presence more and more. It wasn’t just in passing glances during classes anymore—he seemed to be everywhere. Whether you were heading to the library, walking down the hallway, or grabbing lunch in the Great Hall, he always found a way to cross your path. And every time, he’d stop to talk, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

At first, it was subtle. He’d give a casual “Hey, Ilvermorny” as he passed by, his eyes locking onto yours for just a second longer than necessary. Then it became more frequent. You’d feel a tap on your shoulder in the corridors, turning to find him leaning casually against the wall, looking at you with that same half-smirk that sent butterflies fluttering in your stomach.

He wasn’t just talking, either. He started doing little things, almost without you realizing it at first. If you were carrying a stack of books that looked too heavy, he’d take them from you with a simple, “Here, let me get that.” Once, when you were balancing your bag and a few loose scrolls of parchment after class, he slid the bag off your shoulder before you even had time to protest. “I’ll carry it,” he said smoothly, his voice leaving no room for argument. And he did, walking beside you as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn’t just about being helpful either. Ni-ki had a way of complimenting you that felt almost too effortless. “You look nice today,” he’d say, his voice low and smooth as he passed by, sending a shiver down your spine. Or sometimes, when you were deep in thought or stressing over an assignment, he’d lean in close and say something like, “You’re always so focused. It’s kind of impressive.” And his words stuck with you longer than you liked to admit.

The candies were a nice touch too. Out of nowhere, he started bringing you small treats from Hogsmeade—tiny, colorful sweets that were your favorite. He never made a big deal of it, just handed them to you with a casual, “Thought you might like these,” before walking off like it was no big deal. But every time you opened your hand to find another sweet, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself, wondering just how closely he was paying attention.

Yet, there was another side to Ni-ki. You started to notice the way his eyes would darken slightly whenever another guy approached you. If a boy from your house stopped to talk with you, asking about class or inviting you to study in the library, Ni-ki’s gaze would turn sharp, though he never said a word. He didn’t have to. His presence was enough to make the others hesitate, sensing the unspoken tension.

And when you’d turn back to Ni-ki, giving him your full attention again, his expression would shift instantly—back to that smug, satisfied look, as though he’d won some unspoken battle. You found it oddly cute, the way he seemed so sure of himself, yet always with that hint of playful arrogance.

One afternoon, while you were walking out of Potions class, a Gryffindor boy from your year had caught up to you, asking about a spell you’d used during the lesson. You were explaining it when you felt that familiar gaze on you. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed what you already knew—Ni-ki, standing not too far away, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall, his expression unreadable but his eyes locked on you and the boy next to you.

As soon as the Gryffindor left, Ni-ki was there, falling into step beside you. “You sure have a lot of people interested in what you have to say,” he commented, his voice smooth, but there was a teasing edge to it.

You shrugged, smiling. “Maybe I’m just that interesting.”

Ni-ki smirked, his eyes gleaming. “Oh, I already know that.” He glanced down at you, his gaze lingering in a way that made your heart skip. “But it’s nice when you remember who’s been paying attention the longest.”

He didn’t wait for you to respond, just continued walking beside you, carrying your bag without a second thought, like he always did now. You couldn’t help but find it adorable how Ni-ki never seemed to let any other guy linger too long in your space. And the way he always seemed so smug when you gave him your attention? It made you smile, even if you tried to hide it.

Ni-ki was becoming a constant presence in your life, and though he never said it outright, it was clear that he was staking his claim, in his own subtle, confident way. And somehow, you didn’t mind it at all. In fact, you found yourself looking forward to those moments more than you would ever admit.

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It was a crisp, sunny Saturday morning when Ni-ki approached you with that familiar confident smile, his dark eyes gleaming with excitement. He found you in the hallway, casually leaning against the wall as though he hadn’t sought you out deliberately, though by now, you knew better. He always had a reason for being wherever you were.

“Ilvermorny,” he said, his voice smooth as ever, “you coming to the Quidditch match today?”

You looked up from your book, raising an eyebrow. “You really expect me to cheer for Quidditch?”

He chuckled softly, his eyes narrowing in that mischievous way that made your heart race. “Maybe. Or maybe I just want you there, cheering for me.”

You couldn’t help the smile that tugged at your lips. Ni-ki was relentless, and somehow, you found yourself agreeing despite the obvious conflict of interest. “Alright, I’ll come,” you said, pretending to be reluctant. “But don’t expect me to be super hyped.”

He smirked, clearly pleased. “We’ll see about that.”

Later that afternoon, you found yourself seated in the stands, wrapped in your house scarf, surrounded by your friends who were all eager to cheer. Despite their enthusiasm, your eyes kept straying to the Slytherin side of the pitch, where Ni-ki and his teammates were preparing for the match.

As Madam Hooch gathered both teams in the center of the field to go over the rules, you saw Ni-ki’s head turn, his eyes scanning the crowd. You could tell he was looking for someone—looking for you. When his gaze finally found you in the stands, his expression brightened instantly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He raised an eyebrow, the unspoken question in his eyes clear: You’re really here?

You smiled and waved at him, feeling the warmth spread through your chest despite the cool breeze. Ni-ki's smirk deepened, his eyes gleaming with that same smug confidence, as if knowing you were watching had just made his day. He nodded once, then turned back to the game with renewed energy.

The whistle blew, and the game began.

From the moment the Quaffle was released, Ni-ki was in his element. He moved with a grace and agility that made it impossible to tear your eyes away from him. He darted through the air with incredible speed, dodging Bludgers and weaving around the other players with ease. As a Chaser, he was relentless, racking up goal after goal for Slytherin. Every time he scored, the crowd would erupt, but you couldn’t help but feel like his victories were just as much for you as they were for his team.

It wasn’t long before your friends started to notice your divided attention. “Who are you actually cheering for?” one of them teased, nudging you with a playful grin. “Your eyes have been on the Slytherin side for most of the match.”

You laughed, trying to play it off, but there was no denying it. “Maybe I’m just appreciating good Quidditch,” you replied, but the look in your eyes gave you away.

As the game went on, Ni-ki continued to dominate, his skill on full display. And every now and then, between plays, you’d catch him glancing toward the stands, searching for you again. Each time, his smirk would reappear, as if knowing you were watching him gave him even more confidence. You’d wave or give him a small nod, and he’d flash that cocky smile before diving back into the game with even more intensity.

Your friends started giving you a few suspicious looks, but they were too absorbed in the match to question it too much. And besides, it was hard not to be impressed by Ni-ki’s performance—he was a natural on the pitch, and it was clear that he knew it.

By the time the match ended, Slytherin had won, and Ni-ki was at the center of the victory celebration, his teammates patting him on the back and cheering his name. But even in the midst of the chaos, his eyes sought yours once again. And when he found you, standing and clapping in the stands, he shot you a triumphant look, his smirk more self-satisfied than ever.

You couldn’t help but smile back, shaking your head at how effortlessly he had won both the match and your attention.

As the crowd began to disperse, Ni-ki flew toward the stands, clearly intent on finding you. Your heart sped up as he approached, his hair slightly tousled from the wind and the exertion of the game, but his sharp eyes still gleaming with that playful arrogance.

“So,” he said when he finally reached you, his voice low and teasing, “did I live up to your expectations?”

You crossed your arms, pretending to think it over. “I suppose you weren’t terrible.”

He chuckled, leaning in just slightly, his eyes locked on yours. “I saw you cheering for me,” he said softly, the teasing lilt in his voice sending a thrill through you. “You couldn’t hide it, Y/N.”

You blushed but held his gaze. “Maybe you earned it,” you replied, trying to sound casual despite the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

Ni-ki’s smirk deepened, and he straightened up, clearly pleased with himself. “Good,” he said, his tone soft but confident. “Because I expect you to be at every game from now on.”

You laughed, shaking your head, but there was no denying the excitement building inside you. “We’ll see,” you said playfully, though you already knew you wouldn’t be able to stay away.

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Before you knew it, you had developed a little crush on Ni-ki. It crept up on you quietly, sneaking into your thoughts during class and fluttering in your stomach whenever he came around. And as your feelings deepened, you started to tease him back whenever you had the chance, finding joy in turning the tables on the boy who had so effortlessly captured your attention.

You quickly learned that bantering with him was just as entertaining as watching him play Quidditch. Ni-ki would lean down, getting uncomfortably close, pretending not to hear you whenever you asked him something in a crowded corridor. He would arch an eyebrow, a teasing smile dancing on his lips as you felt the heat rise in your cheeks from the closeness. You could see how much he enjoyed it, but what made it even more satisfying was the way a faint pink hue would tint his cheeks when he turned his head, as if he was trying to laugh off the effect you had on him.

One afternoon, as you sat together in the courtyard, discussing your assignments, you decided it was time to give him a taste of his own medicine. Ni-ki was animatedly explaining something, his hands gesturing wildly as he spoke. You feigned interest, letting your gaze drift as you formulated your plan.

When he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone, you took the opportunity. With a sudden tug, you grabbed his tie, pulling him down to your level. “What did you say?” you asked, your tone innocent, even as you played with the soft fabric in your hands.

Ni-ki’s eyes widened in surprise, a mixture of awe and disbelief flickering across his face. For a split second, he seemed completely speechless, caught off guard by your boldness. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head as he registered what had just happened. But then, as if recalling himself, he looked away, trying to appear stern but failing miserably. You caught the slight tremor in his voice when he responded, though. “You know, you’re really pushing your luck, Ilvermorny.”

You only smiled, relishing the moment as you leaned in slightly, maintaining the playful banter. “Am I? I thought you liked it when I paid attention to you,” you shot back, your heart racing at the playful challenge in your tone.

His gaze flickered back to yours, surprise still evident in his features. But then he huffed, a smile breaking through the façade. “You’re really something else, you know?” he said, shaking his head as if he couldn’t quite believe what had just happened.

His reaction was everything you had hoped for, the way he looked at you with a mixture of admiration and amusement, his voice softening as he spoke. It was as if you had pulled back a layer, revealing a side of him that he didn’t often show to others.

“Maybe I am,” you teased, the corners of your mouth curling into a smirk. “But that’s what keeps you coming back, isn’t it?”

Ni-ki chuckled, leaning back just a fraction, his expression smug once more. “You really think you’re that special, huh?”

You couldn’t help but laugh, feeling the warmth of the sun on your face. “I’m just saying, you wouldn’t want anyone else getting this kind of attention, would you?”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, a look of genuine thought crossing his features before he leaned closer again, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “No, I wouldn’t. But I wouldn’t tell anyone that. They might get jealous.”

The way he said it made you feel giddy, a combination of excitement and nervousness swirling in your stomach.

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As the weeks went by, you and Ni-ki fell into a comfortable rhythm, filled with playful banter and flirtation that seemed to grow bolder with each interaction. It became a part of your daily routine, whether you were in class, studying in the library, or wandering the Hogwarts grounds.

One chilly afternoon, you and Ni-ki decided to take a walk around the Black Lake, the air crisp and refreshing. The leaves had started to change colors, and the scenery was breathtaking. As you strolled along the water’s edge, the conversation flowed easily, with both of you exchanging light-hearted jabs.

“Bet I could skip this stone further than you,” Ni-ki challenged, picking up a smooth rock and tossing it expertly across the surface. It skipped three times before sinking.

“Please, that was barely a throw,” you laughed, picking up a stone of your own. You focused on your technique, channeling all the concentration you could muster. With a flick of your wrist, the stone flew across the water, skipping six times before finally disappearing. You turned to him triumphantly. “How’s that for a throw?”

Ni-ki feigned a dramatic gasp, placing a hand on his chest. “I am in the presence of a stone-skipping champion,” he said with a smirk, his dark eyes gleaming mischievously.

“Don’t get too cocky; you’ll never beat me,” you teased back, reveling in the thrill of competition.

Another afternoon, you found yourself in the library studying for an upcoming exam. As you sat at a table, trying to focus, you felt Ni-ki slide into the seat next to you. “Mind if I join?” he asked, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Sure, as long as you’re quiet,” you replied, but you couldn’t hide your smile.

“I can be quiet,” he said dramatically, pressing a finger to his lips. “But only if you promise to let me steal some of your notes later.”

“Nice try,” you said, shaking your head. “You’ll have to earn those.”

For the next few minutes, you both pretended to study, though you were acutely aware of the way he kept glancing over at you, a playful smile lurking on his lips. Finally, unable to hold back any longer, you looked up. “What’s so funny?”

Ni-ki leaned in closer, his voice low. “I just can’t believe you’re actually studying. It’s not like you need to, with how smart you are.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “Are you trying to butter me up for my notes?”

“Maybe,” he replied, a teasing glint in his eye. “Or maybe I just genuinely enjoy watching you work. It’s kind of cute.”

You felt your heart flutter, and you struggled to maintain your composure. “Cute, huh? That’s not exactly the word I’d use to describe my study habits.”

“No, but it’s definitely how I’d describe you,” he said, his tone sincere now.

You could feel the warmth creeping into your cheeks again, but instead of shying away, you leaned in slightly, enjoying the closeness. “Flattery will get you nowhere, you know.”

Ni-ki chuckled softly. “Oh, I know.”

As the days turned into weeks, you found countless moments to continue your playful interactions. Whether it was competing over who could create the best potion in Professor Snape's class or seeing who could guess the most spells correctly in Charms, your friendship flourished, and the teasing evolved into something deeper.

One evening, as you both wandered through the castle after dinner, Ni-ki grabbed your wrist gently, stopping you. “Hey, I have a question for you,” he said, his tone suddenly serious.

You looked up, curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

He hesitated for a moment, searching your eyes as if weighing his words. “What’s your favorite thing about Hogwarts?”

You thought for a moment, your heart racing slightly. “I’d have to say… the magic. It’s all around us, in everything we do. But you know what? The people make it even better.”

He raised an eyebrow, his expression shifting into one of playful suspicion. “Are you talking about me?”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Sure, let’s go with that.”

“Good choice,” he replied, smirking. “Because I was going to say my favorite thing is how you make it feel less lonely here.”

You stopped, surprised by his sincerity, and for a moment, the teasing atmosphere dissipated, replaced by something more profound. But before you could respond, he playfully nudged you with his shoulder, breaking the tension. “But really, we both know I’m the best part of your Hogwarts experience.”

“Full of yourself, aren’t you?” you replied, shaking your head, but you couldn’t help the smile spreading across your face.

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As you sat in the bustling Great Hall, the chatter of students mingling with the clinking of cutlery filled the air. Plates were piled high with food, laughter echoed around you, and you were enjoying the lively atmosphere when a flurry of movement caught your eye. The owlery was busy today; several owls swooped in and out, delivering letters and packages to their respective owners.

You watched as your owl flew in front of you, dropping a letter and a small, beautifully wrapped gift. Your heart skipped a beat as you caught them both expertly, the soft rustle of parchment against your fingertips bringing a sense of nostalgia. You recognized the wrapping immediately—it was covered in shimmering blue paper, a telltale sign of a certain someone from Ilvermorny.

You scrunched your nose in distaste, knowing exactly who had sent it. A gift from Harrison, who had developed a notorious reputation for his over-the-top romantic gestures. You set the gift aside, hoping to forget about it for now, and turned your attention to the letter.

Unfolding it, you smiled as you recognized the handwriting of your friends back at Ilvermorny. As you read through the familiar banter and inside jokes, a warm feeling spread through you. Each message carried a piece of home, reminiscing about shared memories and moments.

The letter read:

Dear Y/N, We miss you like crazy! It’s just not the same without you here, especially during the big Quidditch matches. Everyone keeps asking where you are, and we have to remind them that you’re off being a star at Hogwarts. We can’t wait to hear all about your adventures, so make sure to write back! P.S. Harrison still hasn’t gotten over you. You know how he is with those ridiculous gifts. We tried to tell him to stop, but he thinks you’ll finally notice him this way. Good luck!

You couldn’t help but laugh, shaking your head at the antics of your friends. Just then, one of your housemates, Clara, leaned over, pointing her turkey leg at the gift you had set aside. “Aren’t you going to open that?” she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“No,” you replied, glancing at the box with mild annoyance.

“Oh well, don’t mind if I do,” she declared, snatching the present before you could stop her.

“Wait, Clara—!” you started, but it was too late. She ripped open the wrapping, revealing a heart-shaped chocolate box adorned with a delicate ribbon.

“Ooh!” she exclaimed, her excitement palpable. “This looks amazing!”

“I wouldn’t eat those if I were you.”

“Why not?” she asked, tilting her head in confusion as she pried the box open, the rich smell of chocolate wafting toward you.

“They probably have Amortentia in them,” you replied matter-of-factly, your expression serious.

Clara raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but skeptical. “How do you know?”

You leaned in, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “Because the guy who sent that has put the potion in the treats before. I wouldn’t trust it if I were you.”

She paused, glancing at the chocolates, a flicker of doubt crossing her features. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, crossing your arms.

You watched as Clara set the box down, a look of mild disgust replacing her earlier enthusiasm. “Thanks for the heads up,” she said, chuckling nervously. “I was really going to eat one of those.”

“No problem,” you said, feeling a sense of satisfaction at having saved her from a potentially embarrassing situation. “Harrison’s just trying too hard to win me over.”

“Sounds like he’s got it bad,” Clara commented, glancing at the letter in your hands. “What else did your friends say?”

You chuckled, holding the letter up. “Just the usual. They miss me, and they’re trying to keep me updated on the drama back home. It’s nice to hear from them.”

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It started gradually—first a few letters, then more frequent parcels from Harrison, each one wrapped with a level of detail that made it clear he was still determined to win you over. Every time an owl dropped something in front of you, your frustration grew. You had hoped that your move to Hogwarts would finally make him understand that you weren’t interested, but apparently, Harrison hadn’t taken the hint. Not after countless rejections, nor after the awkward conversations where you’d tried to make it clear that you weren’t interested in him romantically.

Now, each letter and gift felt like a weight, dragging your mood down. Every time a package arrived, your heart sank. Today, in the courtyard, the annoyance had finally reached a boiling point.

Another letter had come—this time with a box of enchanted roses that sang love songs in annoying, high-pitched voices. You barely glanced at it before casting Incendio, watching the parchment curl and burn in your hand, the flames crackling as they consumed the letter. You stood there, arms crossed, muttering under your breath about how thick-headed Harrison must be.

"Another one, huh?" came a voice behind you.

You turned around quickly, startled by the voice, and found yourself face-to-face with Ni-ki. He stood there with his usual air of confidence, but you could tell something was different—there was a glint of concern in his eyes as he glanced at the charred remains of the letter in your hand.

"You’ve been doing that a lot lately," Ni-ki said, his voice low as he nodded toward the ashes. "Who keeps sending you these?"

You sighed, running a hand through your hair in frustration. "It’s from this guy, Harrison," you admitted. "He went to Ilvermorny with me. He’s been… persistent. Really persistent. I thought moving to Hogwarts would make him stop, but he just doesn’t seem to get it."

Ni-ki’s expression shifted from casual curiosity to something more serious as he stepped closer. "How long has this been going on?"

"Years," you confessed, your voice quieter now. "He’s been sending letters and gifts for a while. I’ve turned him down so many times, but he just doesn’t listen. I thought leaving would be enough, but clearly, he doesn’t know how to take a hint."

For a moment, Ni-ki was quiet. His usual playful smirk was gone, replaced by a hard, focused look. His sharp eyes darkened with a seriousness you weren’t used to seeing from him. “That’s not okay,” he said, his voice firm. “Has he ever done anything else besides sending letters and gifts?”

You shook your head. “No, just… this. It’s annoying more than anything. But it’s getting worse. Every time I think it’s over, he sends something else, and it’s like I can’t escape it.”

Ni-ki clenched his jaw, his hands tightening at his sides. "And you don’t want anything to do with him?"

"Not at all," you answered without hesitation. "I’ve told him that so many times, but he’s just… I don’t know. Stubborn? Or maybe he just doesn’t care. It’s like he thinks if he keeps trying, I’ll suddenly change my mind."

Ni-ki’s eyes narrowed, his protective instinct kicking in. "He’s harassing you, Y/N. That’s not stubbornness—that’s ignoring your boundaries. You shouldn’t have to deal with that."

You blinked, taken aback by the intensity in his voice. You’d always seen Ni-ki as playful, and maybe a bit smug, but seeing him like this—serious and genuinely concerned—threw you off guard.

"It’s fine, Ni-ki. I’ve handled it so far," you tried to reassure him, though even as you said it, you felt the weight of the situation settling on your shoulders.

Ni-ki shook his head, stepping closer until he was standing right in front of you. He was tall, and the way he looked down at you with those serious, sharp eyes made your heart race. “It’s not fine, and you shouldn’t have to deal with it alone. He’s not respecting your space, and that’s a problem.”

His protectiveness was unexpected but comforting. You felt a wave of relief wash over you, realizing that you didn’t have to keep brushing it off as something small.

“Listen,” Ni-ki continued, his voice softening but still laced with a steely edge. “If he keeps this up, you need to tell someone—McGonagall, Dumbledore, anyone. But I’ll also make sure he doesn’t bother you anymore.”

You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow. “And how exactly are you going to do that?”

Ni-ki smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes this time. “Let’s just say I have my ways. If he keeps trying to reach you, he’ll have me to deal with. And trust me, he won’t want that.”

You laughed lightly, though a part of you believed him. Ni-ki had always been protective, even in his teasing ways, but this felt different. He wasn’t joking—he was genuinely upset at the thought of someone bothering you. And in that moment, you realized that Ni-ki wasn’t just teasing or flirting anymore. He cared about you deeply, enough to step in and make sure you were safe.

“Thanks,” you said quietly, feeling a little overwhelmed by how much his concern meant to you. “I appreciate it.”

Ni-ki reached out, gently taking your hand in his. “You’re not alone in this, okay? If you ever need anything—anything at all—you come to me.”

You squeezed his hand, feeling a warmth spread through you. “I will.”

With one last look at the ashes of the letter on the ground, Ni-ki nodded resolutely. “Good. Because I’m not letting this Harrison guy get away with thinking he can mess with you.”

You had no idea what Ni-ki had planned after learning about Harrison’s persistent harassment. In fact, Ni-ki had been hard at work behind the scenes, determined to send a message that Harrison would finally understand.

It started with Ni-ki reaching out to your old friends from Ilvermorny. He’d always been clever, resourceful even, and after hearing everything from you, he had a plan in mind. A letter from him had made its way to your Ilvermorny friends, explaining the situation and his idea. To his surprise—and relief—they didn’t hesitate to help. They were as fed up with Harrison as you had been, and they quickly agreed to assist Ni-ki in making sure Harrison knew it was over for good.

But there was one particular evening that made Ni-ki’s plan easier to execute—though you had no idea how much you’d helped.

That night, you’d been studying in the library, trying to cram for an upcoming exam. But the weight of everything, the sleepless nights, and the stress of school had caught up with you. Without much thought, your head had gently rested on your open book, and soon after, you’d fallen fast asleep, your arms crossed on the desk.

Ni-ki had been lucky to find you in that state. He had wandered into the library to check on you, noticing you hadn’t been around for a while. When he saw you peacefully asleep, your face resting on the book, a small smile spread across his face. He didn’t hesitate to quietly grab a blanket, gently placing it over your shoulders. His movements were careful, not wanting to wake you, and for a moment, he simply stood there, watching as you slept soundly.

His next move had been far more mischievous.

With a grin, Ni-ki pulled out his wand and, with a quick flick, summoned his camera from his bag. He moved in closer, leaning down beside you. His face hovered right next to yours, his lips gently brushing your cheek as he kissed you softly, snapping a picture at that very moment.

It was perfect. The picture showed Ni-ki as he kissed your cheek while you slept, completely unaware. And it was exactly what he needed to complete his plan.

Without a second thought, Ni-ki sent the photo, along with a very threatening letter, straight to Harrison. The letter was brief but left no room for misinterpretation:

Harrison, She isn’t interested and never will be. Stop sending letters, gifts, or anything else. This is your final warning. From here on out, she’s got someone looking after her. Do yourself a favor and back off, or things will get ugly.

The message was crystal clear, especially with the attached photo showing Ni-ki close to you, practically staking his claim. He knew it would rile Harrison up, but that was the point. There was no room left for Harrison to misinterpret anything now.

And after that, to your great relief, Harrison’s letters and gifts stopped. You thought, maybe, he had finally understood that you weren’t interested and had backed off. You hadn’t given much more thought to it, just grateful that the ordeal was finally over.

It wasn’t until you found yourself in the owlery one quiet afternoon that you learned the full truth. A letter had arrived from one of your friends at Ilvermorny. You smiled, opening it with excitement, eager to hear from them. But as you read the letter, your eyes widened in shock.

Dear Y/N, Hey! We heard about what Ni-ki did. That guy really knows how to handle things, huh? Harrison needed that wake-up call, and we were more than happy to help Ni-ki out. We're so glad you're not getting any more of those creepy letters. You deserve to enjoy your time at Hogwarts without that hanging over you. By the way, you looked adorable in that photo he sent. Ni-ki’s a keeper, just saying! Take care, and write back soon! Love, your friends.

You stared at the letter, your mouth slightly open in disbelief. Ni-ki had done what?

As you stood there, shocked, two photos slipped out of the envelope and fluttered to the ground. Bending down, you picked them up and examined the first one. It was a picture of Harrison sulking in class, his shoulders slouched and his expression defeated. You breathed out a sigh of relief—he had finally gotten the message. But when you turned your attention to the second picture, your heart skipped a beat.

The photo showed Ni-ki in the library, leaning down and kissing your cheek while you were fast asleep. Your fingers instinctively went to your cheek, where he had kissed you.

"Oh," you whispered to yourself, still processing the moment.

"Hey, Ilvermorny!" a familiar voice called from behind you.

You jumped, startled, and quickly turned to see Ni-ki standing at the entrance of the Owlery, a relaxed smile on his face. He must have just arrived, but his sharp eyes immediately noticed your expression—and the photos you were holding. As he approached, he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused.

"What’ve you got there?" he asked, though the smirk on his face told you he already knew.

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. Your mind was still reeling from the image of him kissing your cheek. Ni-ki glanced down at the photos in your hand and chuckled.

"Guess he finally realized," Ni-ki said with a grin, nodding toward the first picture of Harrison. Then his gaze shifted to the second one, and his smirk softened into something more playful. "Ah, so you saw that one too, huh?"

You stood there, frozen for a second, your heart racing. "You… you kissed me while I was asleep?"

Ni-ki chuckled, scratching the back of his neck casually. "Couldn’t resist. You looked too cute, and, well… I figured Harrison needed a clear message." He winked, his tone teasing, but there was an undercurrent of sincerity in his words.

"And what if I had woken up?" you asked, trying to sound stern but failing as a smile tugged at the corners of your lips.

"Then I would’ve played it off and told you it was a dream," Ni-ki replied smoothly, his smirk growing wider. "But you didn’t wake up, so… I guess you’ll have to take my word for it."

You shook your head, half-amused and half-exasperated. "You're unbelievable."

"Is that a bad thing?" he asked, stepping closer until he was right in front of you, his gaze warm but mischievous.

"No," you admitted quietly, unable to keep from smiling. "It's not."

Ni-ki’s eyes sparkled, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you felt charged, like something unspoken was hanging in the balance.

"So," he said after a beat, his voice softening. "No more letters from him, huh?"

"Yeah, no more letters," you confirmed, feeling the weight of that relief settle in. "Thanks to you."

Ni-ki shrugged, his grin turning softer. "I told you I’d handle it. And honestly? I’d do it again."

"Well," you said, trying to keep your voice steady, "Next time you want to kiss me, maybe let me be awake for it?"

Ni-ki’s eyes widened in surprise at your bold comment, clearly caught off guard. His usual confident smirk faltered as he stared at you, the realization of your words settling in. Slowly, a blush crept up his neck, spreading to his cheeks and even the tips of his ears. You watched in amusement as the typically smug Slytherin boy, always so composed and quick with his teasing remarks, suddenly found himself at a loss for words.

Sensing his flustered state, you decided to push further. With a mischievous smile, you reached out and grabbed his green tie, giving it a gentle tug. He didn’t resist, allowing you to pull him down until his face was close to yours again. The tie twisted around your hand as you toyed with it.

You glanced up at him, your other hand moving to brush his dark hair aside, revealing more of his sharp, handsome features. His breath hitched slightly at your touch, his eyes locked on yours, completely entranced. His gaze softened, and you could swear that if hearts could literally appear in someone’s eyes, they would be in Ni-ki’s right now. He was utterly, completely captivated by you.

"You know," you began, your voice teasing as you let your hand slide down from his hair to his broad chest, your fingers lightly tracing the fabric of his robes, "for someone who's always teasing me, you sure do get quiet when the tables are turned."

Ni-ki swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried to maintain some semblance of composure. But the blush deepened on his face, and his mouth opened as if he wanted to respond, only for no words to come out. You could feel the tension between you two building, his gaze never leaving your lips as he remained perfectly still, letting you take the lead.

"You look so cute like this," you murmured, your voice low and teasing as you leaned in just slightly, your lips hovering near his ear, "I didn’t think I’d ever see you blush, Ni-ki."

His breath hitched again, and you noticed his hands twitch at his sides, clearly resisting the urge to pull you closer. He was melting at your every word, at your every touch. You could feel it in the way he looked at you, like you were the only person in the world he cared to focus on right now.

"I—" Ni-ki finally tried to speak, but his voice came out shakier than you’d ever heard it. His usual cocky demeanor was completely gone, replaced by a boy who was hopelessly wrapped around your finger.

"What’s the matter, Ni-ki? Cat got your tongue?" you teased, your grin growing wider.

Ni-ki let out a shaky breath, finally regaining enough of his composure to smirk, albeit weakly. "You really like testing me, don’t you?" he murmured, his voice low and rough, though the blush on his face betrayed just how affected he still was.

You shrugged innocently, your hand still resting against his chest. "Maybe. You make it so easy."

He let out a soft laugh, finally reaching up to gently take hold of your hand that had been toying with his tie. He brought it to his lips, brushing a soft kiss against your knuckles, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I think you’re the one who’s going to be trouble," he said, his voice soft but filled with warmth, his blush still faint on his cheeks as he smiled at you. "But I wouldn’t have it any other way."

He then leaned in even closer, his gaze flickering between your eyes and your lips. Your breath hitched, and almost instinctively, you bit down on your bottom lip, unsure of where this was heading. The playful banter that had filled the air moments ago dissolved into something much heavier, more intense.

Ni-ki's eyes lingered on your lips, and for a brief moment, the entire world seemed to fall away. The distant hoots of owls and the rustling of wings around you faded into silence, leaving only the sound of your breathing and his. His proximity sent a thrill through you, and you swallowed hard, suddenly feeling nervous under his intense gaze.

"Please..." Ni-ki whispered, his voice low and breathy, barely audible but enough to send a shiver down your spine.

You blinked up at him, feeling your chest tighten with anticipation. "Yes," you murmured, the word slipping out without a second thought.

That was all it took.

In an instant, Ni-ki’s hand came up to cradle your cheek, his fingers soft and warm against your skin. Then, before you could process it, his lips were on yours, soft yet firm, capturing you in a kiss that sent a shock of electricity through your entire body. The world seemed to stop for that moment as you melted into him, your heart racing as if it could burst from your chest.

His other hand slid around your waist, pulling you closer, and you responded instinctively, letting go of his tie and slipping your arms around his neck. The kiss deepened, slow and intoxicating, like it was something the two of you had been waiting for all along.

Ni-ki kissed you as though he’d been holding back for ages, his lips moving gently against yours, exploring, savoring. The intensity of the moment took your breath away, and you found yourself completely lost in him, every sense heightened as his scent, his warmth, and the soft press of his lips consumed you.

When he finally pulled away, you both stood there, faces inches apart, breathing heavily, neither of you speaking right away. His forehead rested against yours, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

"That was…" Ni-ki began, but he trailed off, his voice catching slightly.

"Yeah," you whispered, not needing him to finish. You knew exactly what he meant.

He brushed his thumb lightly across your cheek, his gaze lingering on your lips once more before he smiled—a small, genuine smile that made your heart flutter.

"I’ve been wanting to do that for a while," Ni-ki admitted, his voice low and rough with emotion.

You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Me too."

He chuckled softly, his eyes lighting up with that familiar playful glint. "Guess I should thank Harrison for pushing me to finally make a move, huh?"

You rolled your eyes, but couldn’t help laughing along with him. "Yeah, maybe. But don’t tell him that."

Ni-ki grinned, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back slightly. "Trust me, I won’t."

Just then, a loud hoot echoed through the Owlery, breaking the enchanting atmosphere between you and Ni-ki. You both turned around to see your snow-white owl, Yuki, perched on a wooden beam above you, her feathers fluffed up as if she were trying to make herself appear larger.

The way she stared at you both, with those big, knowing eyes, made you feel like she was judging the situation. You swore that if an owl could look smug, Yuki would have been the picture of it.

Ni-ki chuckled softly, breaking the tension as he glanced at your owl. "I think she approves," he said, a grin spreading across his face as he straightened up, brushing off the lingering awkwardness.

You rolled your eyes, unable to suppress a laugh as you crossed your arms, looking up at Yuki. "Oh, don’t you start too," you said, feigning exasperation. "I already have enough pressure without you acting like my guardian."

Yuki hooted again, her head tilting slightly, as if she understood every word. It was almost as if she was telling you to go for it, to embrace the moment with Ni-ki.

“Seriously, though,” Ni-ki said, taking a step back, still chuckling at your owl’s antics. “Is she always this judgmental?”

You nodded, still laughing. “Every time I try to have a moment, she swoops in. It’s like she’s a personal bodyguard or something.”

“Maybe she just knows you deserve the best,” Ni-ki teased, a hint of admiration in his voice as he leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. “I think she’s just trying to make sure I’m good enough for you.”

You felt a warmth spread through you at his words, and you couldn’t help but smile. “Well, she has pretty high standards, so you better step up your game, Ni-ki.”

He smirked, the playful spark returning to his eyes. “Challenge accepted. I’m up for anything if it means keeping her happy.”

“Good luck with that,” you replied, shaking your head playfully. “She’s not easily impressed.”

Just then, Yuki fluttered down from her perch and landed on your shoulder, nuzzling her head against your cheek. You laughed at her affectionate gesture, and Ni-ki watched the interaction, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“Looks like you have a wingwoman,” he said, his gaze shifting between you and the owl.

You smiled, feeling a little shy under his gaze. “Or a winged guardian,” you corrected, running your fingers gently over Yuki’s soft feathers. “Either way, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to sneak around with her watching.”

“Good,” Ni-ki replied, stepping closer again, his gaze earnest. “I’d rather have her around to keep an eye on things anyway.”

You felt your heart flutter at his words, the earlier tension bubbling back up between you two, even with Yuki perched there. The way he looked at you now, a mixture of admiration and mischief.

“Looks like you’ll have to share me with Yuki,” you teased, nudging Ni-ki playfully with your shoulder.

He laughed, the sound warm and inviting. “I don’t mind sharing, as long as I get my time with you too.”

[thedemoninme141]

The Maiden Of Death PART 1.

Summary: They say opposites attract. But you? You weren’t her opposite. You were worse.

Part 1 -- Part 2-- Part 3

A/n: This is a new series, I actually had part 1 written like a month ago, But I didn't post it back then mainly because I won't write part 2 until I finish Her Heartbeat. I also am not really sure if you guys would like it, because its a bit dark. But I hope you do.

Pairings: Wednesday x Female reader. Warnings: Violence at the end but you guys would be satisfied by it lol.

She met you in fencing class.

As Wednesday was walking through the hallways of Nevermore, on her way to the fencing class, she couldn't help but question herself, why had she returned?

Sure, she had defeated Crackstone. Tyler was locked away, the Gates family’s legacy was ash. Yet, despite her apparent victory over the forces conspiring against Nevermore, Wednesday couldn’t shake the hollow feeling of anticlimax.

So why?

Perhaps it was the faint pull of unfinished business. The photos of a shadowy stalker she’d received at the end of her first year were an unsolved loose end, but even those now felt underwhelming. Whoever it was hadn’t made a move worth her attention in months.

Or maybe she was here because it gave her the chance to humiliate Bianca this time. That thought warmed her more than she cared to admit. Bianca had always been the most formidable opponent in fencing, her skill matched only by her infuriating arrogance. Wednesday lived for that. She would never say it aloud, but Bianca was the only opponent worth her time.

As she entered the fencing room, the chatter of students died down. The tension in the room was immediate, Wednesday didn’t need to look to know that all eyes were on her. She had always been the odd one in this class, the only one to don a fencing uniform as black as her soul while everyone wore the casual white.

But something was different today. She caught sight of a figure seated casually in one of the chairs lining the hall but the reason her eyes found this one so fast because they dressed entirely in black fencing gear, just like her. Their mask and helmet obscured any hint of identity.

For as long as she had fenced at Nevermore, she had been the only one to wear black. This was an intrusion.

Her gaze shifted to Bianca, and for the first time, Wednesday noticed blood dripping from the other girl’s left hand. It was a small, angry trickle, barely enough to warrant alarm, but the sheer fact of it was startling. Bianca never bled. Not in fencing. Her form was too precise, her reactions too swift.

“Wait, that’s not Wednesday?” Kent was the one to speak out.

The rest of the students murmured, their gazes bouncing between her and the stranger. Even the coach was a bit confused.

Wednesday’s curiosity deepened but she said nothing.

Her dark eyes flicked back to Bianca. The siren’s usual air of superiority was gone, replaced by something raw and bitter. Humiliation.

Bianca Barclay had been beaten, and beaten badly, by... whoever this was.

“Barclay,” The coach said, his voice cutting through the murmurs. “Infirmary. Now.”

Bianca huffed, her glare locked on the figure in black. If looks could kill, the stranger would have been reduced to ashes. But they remained unmoved, offering no reaction.

As Bianca passed Wednesday, she slowed, her lip curling in disdain. “Not one word,” she muttered, low enough that only Wednesday could hear.

Wednesday tilted her head, her tone as cool as ever. “Careful, Barclay. Your blood loss is showing.”

Bianca huffed but she said nothing, stalking out of the hall with as much dignity as she could muster.

Wednesday’s lips curved in the faintest of smirks. Whoever this person was, they had achieved something remarkable. The idea that someone could dismantle Bianca so thoroughly sparked a flicker of excitement deep in Wednesday’s chest, a sensation she quickly quashed.

The possibility of being bested was not one she entertained lightly, but the idea of such a challenge thrilled her in a way she couldn’t deny. It was rare to find someone who could match her ruthlessness, let alone surpass it.

Her gaze returned to the masked figure. They hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, hadn’t even acknowledged the chaos they’d caused. They simply sat there, busy in their own world.

She took a step forward, “Who are you?” she demanded, her voice slicing through the tension like a blade.

The figure didn’t respond. Their silence was deliberate, unyielding.

Wednesday’s lips quirked into something resembling a smile, dark, challenging, hungry. “If you’re going to steal my aesthetic, the least you can do is prove you’re worthy of it.”

A murmur swept through the room. Someone let out a low whistle, and the coach frowned, clearly torn between maintaining order and allowing the drama to unfold.

“Addams, this is not the time for theatrics,” the coach started, but Wednesday silenced her with a raised hand.

“It’s not theatrics. It’s a challenge,” she said, her dark eyes fixed on the seated figure. “Unless you’re too afraid to accept.”

For a moment, the figure remained motionless. Then, slowly, they stood. The black fencing uniform clung to their frame, and the mask’s darkened mesh remained inscrutable. They stepped onto the fencing strip—silent, measured, and deliberate and Wednesday adjusted her fencing mask.

The room collectively held its breath.

The coach sighed, knowing full well he can't stop Wednesday.

“En garde.” he yelled.

With her perfect stance and razor-sharp mind, Wednesday raised her blade. A precision tool she had used innumerable times, the weight of her foil in her hand was reassuring. The other fencer, whose mask concealed any emotion, mirrored her movements with eerie grace across from her.

“Prêts,” the coach said.

Wednesday’s focus narrowed. Her heart beat steadily. She would rule. She did it every time.

“Allez.”

The duel began. Wednesday moved first, her blade darting forward in a testing thrust. Her opponent’s response was immediate, a deflection so swift it was almost imperceptible.

Wednesday pressed forward, her footwork precise and aggressive. She lunged again, trying to draw her opponent into a mistake. But the figure in black sidestepped, their movements fluid and economical. They struck back, their blade skimming past her guard with alarming speed. Wednesday barely parried and dodged in time.

A flurry of attacks and counters. Wednesday’s strikes were measured, calculated to exploit any opening. Yet her opponent offered none. It was as if they were reading her mind, anticipating her every move.

Her frustration grew, simmering beneath her stoic exterior. She was Wednesday Addams. She did not lose.

Then it happened. In a single, breathtaking motion, her opponent disengaged, their blade whipping around her guard to land a clean hit on her shoulder.

The coach’s voice rang out. “Point. 1-0.”

The room exhaled collectively. Wednesday’s grip on her épée tightened. Her eyes narrowed behind the mask. She had underestimated them. That was a mistake she wouldn’t make again.

They reset. The coach’s whistle blew. “Allez!”

This time, Wednesday took a defensive stance, watching her opponent closely. Their movements were fast, almost inhumanly so, but there was no sound—no labored breathing, no huffs of exertion. It was as though they weren’t human at all but a ghost sent to haunt her.

Their blade darted forward in the blink of an eye. Wednesday countered, attempting to draw them into a trap. But they saw through it, disengaging and circling to her left. She pivoted, parrying a thrust aimed at her torso, but their follow-up was too quick. The tip of their blade grazed her arm.

The coach’s voice rang out again. “Point. 2-0.”

Wednesday’s jaw clenched beneath the mask. The students murmured, the shock evident in their voices. Anger flared in her chest, hot and unwelcome. She was not accustomed to being outmatched like this.

The next round began. Wednesday forced herself to focus, she studied their movements, searching for a pattern, a weakness. Their strikes were precise, but even precision had its rhythm.

Then she saw it—a slight hesitation in their retreat, a fraction of a second where their weight shifted too far back. It was enough.

When they lunged, she was ready. She sidestepped, her blade sweeping upward in a controlled arc. The tip struck their shoulder.

"Point 2-1" The coach whistled.

For the first time, her opponent faltered. It was subtle, a small hesitation as they reset, but Wednesday caught it. The way they froze for a heartbeat, their head tilting slightly as if registering the touch, was fascinating. She couldn’t see their face, but she imagined what might lie beneath the mask. Surprise? Annoyance?

She allowed herself the faintest of smirks.

But the pause was brief. The stranger reset, their stance as flawless as ever. Wednesday narrowed her eyes, her grip tightening on her foil. If they can get hit, she can win. She just needs to be patient.

The whistle sounded again, and they moved.

This time, it was a storm. The stranger’s attacks came faster, sharper, each strike more relentless than the last. Wednesday parried and countered, her heart pounding in her ears as she tried to keep up. They weren't getting tired, and Wednesday for a fact understood, this was must be because one of their powers, Was it fair? No. But it was... maybe a lit... amusing.

For every move she anticipated, they had another waiting in line.

She refused to give ground, but her endurance was waning. Sweat prickled at the back of her neck, her breaths coming faster despite her efforts to control them. And then, just as she thought she might regain the upper hand, they struck.

The tip of their foil grazed her chest with clinical precision.

“Touché! 3-1."

The class went full silent, except a few gasphs.

Wednesday staggered back a step, her breath caught in her throat. She had lost. And it wasn’t luck or a fluke. It was a deserved victory. This opponent, whoever they were, was better.

Her gaze flicked to the masked figure, who was already lowering their blade, their movements as calm and unbothered as ever. They turned without a word, stepping off the fencing mat as if nothing extraordinary had happened.

Anger bubbled beneath Wednesday’s surface, sharp and unrelenting. Not just at her opponent, but at herself. She had lost, just as Bianca had.

But unlike Bianca, she wouldn’t accept it.

“Wait,” she said, the stranger paused mid-step but didn’t turn.

“I’m not finished.”

Taking off her gloves, Wednesday ripped off her mask, letting it drop to the floor with a loud clang. Her pale face, flushed faintly from exertion “One more match,” she said, “No helmets. No gloves. First blood.”

The figure paused mid-step. Slowly, they turned back to face her. The room held its collective breath as they reached up, removing their gloves with deliberate precision. Then, they raised their hands to their helmet and pulled it off.

Wednesday froze.

A cascade of hair fell free, framing a face that froze Wednesday in place. Deep blue eyes met hers, piercing and unreadable.

A girl.

For the first time in years, Wednesday Addams felt something foreign and unfamiliar. Her mind stumbled over itself, her usual composure shattered. She didn’t move, didn’t speak. She could only stare. The sharp lines of the girl’s face, the way her eyes seemed to see straight through her.

The girl’s expression was unreadable, her silence almost oppressive. Her gaze was sharp, piercing, but there was no mockery in it, no trace of satisfaction. It was as though the outcome of their first match had been irrelevant to her.

That infuriated Wednesday more than the loss itself.

The coach hesitated before stepping back and raising his hand. His voice wavered slightly as he called out, “En garde.”

Her grip of her foil tightened as she drew her focus inward, forcing her breathing to steady. She couldn’t allow herself to think of the humiliation, This was about proving a point- to herself and to the girl who had dared to take her victory so effortlessly.

“Allez!”

The match began with a lunge from Wednesday, her blade aiming for the girl’s shoulder. It was a calculated strike, meant to gauge her opponent’s reaction. As before, the girl deflected with an unnerving ease, her blade redirecting Wednesday’s attack in a single fluid motion.

Wednesday pressed forward, her strikes coming faster, sharper, each one aimed to corner the girl into a defensive position. But her opponent was quick, impossibly quick, slipping out of reach with minimal effort.

Wednesday felt her frustration mount with each failed strike. No matter how precisely she aimed, the girl always seemed a step ahead.

Wednesday pushed harder, her movements growing more aggressive. She feinted left, aiming for the girl’s left hand, of course her attack was parried... but barely this time.

For the first time, her defense seemed less impenetrable. Wednesday seized the opening, striking with renewed vigor. But right then, Wednesday’s eyes locked on the girl’s, her heart skipping a beat. They were… haunting. Deep, unfathomable, and completely devoid of emotion.

And then, the girl did something that froze Wednesday mid-movement.

She shifted her stance; a slight adjustment to her footing, the angle of her blade. But as the girl moved, it became clear that this was something entirely different. Her grip on the foil changed, her movements adopting a fluidity that was both unfamiliar and unnerving.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. The stance was unusual, almost ceremonial in its precision. And then it clicked.

It was the stance of a katana.

The realization sent a chill down Wednesday’s spine. She had studied fencing extensively, priding herself on her knowledge of techniques from all over the world. But this was something else, something that Wednesday isn't an expert on...

The girl moved, and Wednesday barely had time to react. Her strikes came in sweeping arcs, each one faster and more unpredictable than the last. The blade seemed to dance, its movements impossible to predict.

Wednesday’s defense faltered under the onslaught. She parried desperately, her mind racing to adapt to this new style. But the girl’s attacks were relentless, her blade slipping past Wednesday’s defenses with alarming frequency.

For the first time, Wednesday felt out of her depth.

She gritted her teeth, forcing herself to focus. She couldn’t let this girl overwhelm her—not again. She lunged, aiming for a weak point in the girl’s defense, but her blade was deflected with a force that nearly knocked it from her hand.

The girl countered with a strike so precise, so swift, that Wednesday barely dodged in time.... or did she?

Because the girl had stopped.

It wasn’t a retreat or a hesitation. She simply froze, her blade lowering slightly as though she had no reason to continue.

Wednesday frowned, her gaze dropping to her arm. Her stomach dropped. A thin line of red traced its way down her pale skin, a tiny drop of blood beginning to bead at its edge.

First blood.

Wednesday’s foil slipped from her hand, clattering to the floor as the weight of her loss settled over her. She stared at the girl, her mind struggling to process what had just happened.

She had lost. Again.

The girl stepped back, her expression unchanged. There was no emotion in her eyes, no trace of satisfaction or smugness. It was as though the match had meant nothing to her, as though Wednesday had been just another opponent to dispatch.

Wednesday’s hands clenched into fists at her sides. The loss was infuriating, yes, but it was the girl’s indifference that stung the most. She didn’t care. She hadn’t even been challenged.

The girl bent to retrieve her helmet and gloves. She turned without a word, walking toward the exit as though the match had never happened.

Wednesday watched her go, her emotions a tangled mess of anger, humiliation, and something she couldn’t quite name. She had been defeated before by Bianca, but not like this. Not by someone who had reduced her to irrelevance with so ease.

Her reverie was broken by the sound of approaching footsteps. She turned to see Bianca, her left hand freshly bandaged. Bianca stopped a few feet away, crossing her arms over her chest as if she wasn’t sure how to start.

“Now you get it?” Bianca muttered, crossing her arms.

Wednesday raised an eyebrow, “Get what?”

Bianca exhaled sharply, shaking her head. “Why I lost.”

Wednesday remained silent, waiting for Bianca to elaborate.

“When she showed up in the black gear, I thought it was you.” She raised her bandaged hand, her irritation palpable. “So, naturally, I challenged her. Gloves off. I wanted to prove a point to you..."

“And yet here you are,” Wednesday noted, “Unproven.”

Bianca’s jaw tightened, but she pushed past the jab. “She’s not like anyone else. The way she fights? It’s... unsettling.” She hesitated, searching for the right words. “She doesn’t fence. Not really. She reads you, adapts, and then it’s like she’s a step ahead of you the whole time. You can’t even throw her off. I tried."

“And failed.” Wednesday said flatly.

"So did you. But at least you got a point against her." With that, Bianca turned and walked away.

Wednesday remained where she was, her mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts.

Why did it feel like she was everywhere and nowhere at once?

She exhaled sharply, spinning on her heel and leaving the gym.

By the time she reached quad for lunch, the words had already outrun her. As she stepped inside, the chatter shifted noticeably, students stealing glances at her as though they couldn’t believe the day’s events.

And then there was Enid.

The werewolf practically launched herself at Wednesday, her vibrant energy an unwelcome assault.

“Wednesday! Oh my gosh, is it true? Did you actually.......lose?"

Wednesday gave Enid her death glare... which Enid is immune to, unfortunately.

“Everyone’s talking about it. Apparently, you got your butt kicked by the new girl in, like, the most epic way possible! Like, who even is this girl? And why is she just as dark and scary as you?”

“I am not discussing this.” The glare deepened.

“Okay, okay,” Enid said, holding up her hands. “But seriously, who is she? And why are you so.... intense about this?”

“I am not intense,” Wednesday said curtly.

“Come on, are you jealous? Or just annoyed that someone might actually be better than you?” She leaned closer, lowering her voice. “Or… is it something else?”

Wednesday’s turned slowly, fixing Enid with a look that could have withered flowers. “Your penchant for meddling will get you killed one day.”

Enid smirked, unfazed. “Uh-huh. So, jealous and annoyed. Got it.”

Before Wednesday could retort, her gaze shifted to the far end of the dining hall.

There she was, sitting alone at a table. She had chosen a seat far from the crowd, her posture calm and unbothered, as though the buzz around her didn’t exist. The students nearest to her stole glances at her, some murmuring, and some looking at her like she was a ticking time bomb.

“You should go talk to her,” Enid whispered, leaning closer.

Wednesday tore her gaze away, fixing Enid with an incredulous look. “And say what, exactly?”

“I don’t know. How do goths befriend each other?” Enid said earning another death glare. “Besides, you two have the same energy; dark and brooding. You’re practically soulmates.”

“Ridiculous,” Wednesday muttered. But her eyes betrayed her, flicking back to the girl. She was so still, so utterly composed, it was unnerving.

Before Wednesday could decide whether to act, the girl stood, collecting her tray and leaving the hall without so much as a glance toward anyone.

She found out your name in alchemy class.

Alchemy was Wednesday’s next class, and she had hoped it would provide a distraction, But as she sat at her desk, her mind kept going back to that girl... and as she began the delicate work of combining reagents, She glanced at the door, almost involuntarily, as though expecting something... and she wasn't disappointed.

The room fell silent. Every student turned to look as the girl walked in, unhurried and unbothered. Her expression betrayed no hint of apology, no trace of acknowledgment for the disruption. She simply stepped inside as though she owned the space.

The professor sighed, “Well, if it isn’t our newest addition. Everyone, this is Y/N.” He gestured vaguely in your direction. “Y/N, I’d ask why you’re late, but something tells me you wouldn’t tell me anyway.”

You said nothing, offering only a blank stare before scanning the room. The only empty seat was beside Wednesday. Without hesitation, you walked over and sat down.

Wednesday stiffened, her focus now completely obliterated. She glanced at you from the corner of her eye, you seemed utterly unbothered by the attention of the room, just as she was at her start here in Nevermore.

The professor resumed his lecture, but Wednesday barely heard a word.

She pretended to focus on the lesson, her pen moving across her notebook. But her eyes betrayed her, darting toward you at every opportunity.

She should have been focused on the experiment, on proving her superiority in yet another intellectual endeavor. But all she could think about was.... those eyes.

Every time Wednesday stole a glance at you, she found herself lingering, her gaze caught by the depth of your stare. There was something unsettling about it, something that gnawed at the edges of her mind. She hated it. And yet, she couldn’t look away.

The rest of the class passed in a haze, when the professor finally dismissed them, Wednesday gathered her things ignoring you. She refused to acknowledge you as you rose and left the room, as silent and unbothered as ever... but she did. As she watched you disappear into the corridor, Wednesday felt a twinge of something she couldn’t name. Curiosity. Frustration. Whatever it was, she was sure she didn't like it.

She first talked to you in the library.

If she could eradicate botany from this school, she would. She despised the assignment. Plants were irritatingly alive, with their need for sunlight and water and their incessant growth. And worse, they were resilient, continuing to thrive no matter how much she wished otherwise. That their existence shared the same planet as hers was one of life's more enduring inconveniences.

But what annoyed her more was giving these green nuisances even a moment of her attention. It was an indignity she had endured only to achieve perfection in her report, which, of course, had been flawless. That's why she had come to the library, she needed a book, Comprehensive Biology.

And there you were.

At the far corner of the library, you stood alone, scanning the shelves.

Wednesday’s dark eyes narrowed. She hadn’t planned to confront you, but the sight of you, unbothered and aloof, stirred something in her. Frustration? No, she refused to acknowledge such a trivial emotion. It was something deeper. A need to understand. To assert control.

She approached quietly, her hands clasped behind her back as she stopped a few feet away. For a moment, she simply observed. You were searching for something, your eyes moving methodically over the spines of the books.

“Lost?” she asked finally, her tone sharp and cutting. Her voice broke the silence like a blade slicing through cloth. “Or have you simply forgotten how to read?”

You turned your head slowly, your expression unreadable as you looked at her. For a moment, there was nothing, no reaction, no flicker of recognition. Then you tilted your head slightly, the faintest hint of curiosity in your eyes.

“Who are you again?” you asked, your voice devoid of malice but also of any warmth.

The question hit Wednesday like a slap. Her expression didn’t falter, but inside, a slow burn began to rise. Who are you again? The words echoed in her mind, each one twisting the knife of insult deeper.

“Who am I?” she repeated, her tone laced with disbelief and irritation. She stepped closer, her dark gaze locked onto yours. “I’m the person you defeated. Twice. Today. The one you sat beside in class today. Or has your memory been as unimpressive as your personality?”

You blinked, unperturbed, and returned your gaze to the books. “Oh,” you said simply, as if the information had already slipped from your mind. “Right.”

The dismissiveness of your voice made Wednesday’s jaw tighten. Most people crumbled under her sharp tongue or recoiled from her glare. You, however, seemed utterly immune

“You’re remarkably unbothered for someone with so little reason to be,” Wednesday said, her voice icy.

You pulled a book from the shelf. “And you’re remarkably persistent for someone who lost.”

Wednesday’s fingers curled into fists at her sides. The audacity. The nerve. She wasn’t sure if she wanted to strangle you or applaud your ability to get under her skin.

“I don’t lose,” she said firmly.

You finally turned to face her fully, the book resting in your hands. “Then what do you call what happened earlier?”

Wednesday’s glare could have melted stone. “An anomaly. One that will not be repeated.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression still maddeningly neutral. “If you say so.”

Most people would have shifted under her gaze by now, stumbled over their words, or tried to appease her. You did none of those things. Instead, you opened the book, flipping through its pages showing your complete disinterest in the conversation.

“Why are you here?” she asked finally, her voice quieter but no less pointed.

“Looking for a book,” you replied simply, your tone making it clear that the answer should have been obvious.

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. “And what, pray tell, is so fascinating that it brought you to the library instead of, say, gloating over your victory?”

You closed the book, sliding it back onto the shelf with the same quiet precision that marked everything you did. “I don’t gloat. Victory isn’t worth much if it’s expected.”

The words struck a chord.

“You’re insufferable,” she said finally, her voice a low growl.

You tilted your head again, considering her words. “So I’ve been told.”

Wednesday’s lips pressed into a thin line. “What type of outcast are you?”

No reply.

Her irritation spiked. “What’s your power? You must have one, unless the administration suddenly decided to admit normies."

Still no reply.

Wednesday huffed, her voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Ignoring me is ill-advised. I’ve been known to make people regret it.”

You pulled a book off the shelf, inspected it briefly, and then replaced it with a calm that bordered on infuriating.

Wednesday stepped closer, her boots silent on the carpet. “I asked you a question.”

Without a word or any visible motion, a glint of metal appeared in your hand. A knife, sleek and deadly, materialized out of nowhere. Wednesday froze, her body tensing as her hand instinctively moved toward her own hidden knife. But she stopped short when you spun the weapon in your fingers with fluid ease, offering her the handle.

Her eyes narrowed, suspicious and calculating. She didn’t take it immediately, instead scrutinizing both you and the blade. After a moment’s hesitation, Wednesday stepped closer, her hand brushing against yours as she took the knife.

It wasn’t an ordinary knife; it was a parrying dagger, the kind designed to trap and break an opponent’s blade... and it looked old, centuries old.

“Conjuring weapons,” she said slowly, her tone even but laced with curiosity. “Is that your ability?”

"Something like that." you answered.

Before she could probe further, you let out a quiet sigh, your gaze drifting back to the shelves. It seemed you still hadn’t found what you were looking for. As you stepped away from the shelf and headed toward the exit, Wednesday tried to stop you. She held out the parrying dagger, “Here. Take it back.”

"Keep it." You said simply without even glancing back, leaving Wednesday standing alone in the dimly lit library, the dagger still in her hand. She slid it into her pocket, her mind already plotting how she would uncover the truth about you. She didn’t just let things go. And she certainly wasn’t about to start with you.

She understood a bit more about you during botany.

Breakfast was, at best, tolerable, and at worst, a chore. The only reason she even bothered was the unavoidable biological need to sustain herself.

She surveyed the room with her dark eyes, already calculating the path of least interaction to her usual seat with Enid.

But her gaze froze mid-scan.

You were there.

Sitting at her table.

Sitting in her seat.

And beside you, chattering as though her life depended on it, was Enid Sinclair. Did Enid mistook you as Wednesday?

Wednesday’s dark eyes narrowed as she stood by the entrance, taking in the scene. How did you end up here? Of all the tables, all the seats in the dining hall, why hers? . You, however, were picking at your breakfast with the same disinterest Wednesday reserved for Enid’s most frivolous stories.

Enid noticed her almost immediately, waving excitedly. “Wednesday! Over here!”

Wednesday suppressed the urge to roll her eyes but failed. She stood rooted for a moment, weighing her options. She could walk away, claim another seat, and avoid the unbearable company of Enid and you. But that would mean admitting, if only to herself, that she was bothered. She was not one to surrender her territory so easily.

With a sigh that carried all the weight of her disdain, Wednesday made her way to the table. When she reached the table, she didn’t ask for her seat back. She was too mature for that.

Enid beamed. “Look who joined us! Isn’t this great?”

“It’s something,” Wednesday muttered, her tone flat as she slid onto the bench across from you.

You didn’t look up from your plate. The lack of acknowledgment was grating, though she couldn’t decide why.

“So,” Enid said, her voice a mix of excitement and curiosity, “Y/N was just telling me, well, okay, not telling, more like I was guessing, that she’s not really into breakfast food. Isn’t that funny? Like, how can anyone not love pancakes?”

Your fork paused mid-air for the briefest of moments before continuing its journey to your mouth. You didn’t respond.

Wednesday, who understood that pointless chattering annoys you as much as her... maybe she could try "The Enid Way"

“Perhaps Y/N finds pancakes as insipid as she finds conversation.”

Enid blinked, clearly unsure whether to laugh or defend herself. “Uh… okay, rude? But honestly, you two could totally bond over being broody and, like, totally impossible to read.”

Wednesday’s gaze flicked to you then, a sharp, probing look. “I wouldn’t say impossible. Predictable, perhaps. There’s a certain monotony to Y/N’s silence and I do not find it intriguing at all.”

You glanced up, finally meeting her eyes. There was no irritation in your expression, no spark of retaliation, just an unreadable calm that only served to unnerve her further. “And yet, here you are, commenting on it,” you said evenly before returning to your plate.

It wasn’t the sharpest retort, but the way you delivered it, like an afterthought, as though Wednesday’s presence barely registered, made it sting all the same.

Enid looked between the two of you, her eyes wide with the kind of excitement only she could muster. “Oh my gosh, this is like watching two glaciers collide! I mean, not that you guys are slow or cold or anything. Well, maybe a little cold. Anyway, isn’t this fun?”

“No,” Wednesday and you said at the same time.

Enid burst into laughter, clapping her hands. “See? You’re already bonding!”

Wednesday shot her a look that could curdle milk, but Enid was unfazed.

Eugene was approaching their table but he stopped short when he saw you, his gaze darting between you and Wednesday. His eyebrows knit together in confusion.

“Uh… are we seeing double, or is this the person who—”

“Finish that sentence, Eugene, and I’ll make sure you regret it,” Wednesday said.

Eugene’s eyes widened as he nodded quickly. “Got it. Not finishing the sentence.” And just as Eugene joined the table, her attention returning to you. You were wiping your hands with a napkin, getting ready to leave. Wednesday can tell, your hate for social interaction, raged more than her's. Perhaps, she can use that against you.

As Enid watched you stand and leave without so much as a goodbye, she sighed dramatically, "You two would make the perfect brooding couple.”

Wednesday shot her a withering look. “Your penchant for romanticizing everything is both exhausting and nauseating.”

Enid just grinned. “Admit it, Wens. You’re curious about her.”

Wednesday didn’t respond. She couldn’t. Because as much as she hated to admit it, Enid was right. You were a mystery, and Wednesday Addams hated unsolved mysteries almost as much as she hated losing.

Wednesday walked into her botany class with her usual measured pace, her eyes scanning the room as she adjusted in her seat. She didn’t expect much from this class... wait... she forgot to pick up her botany book from the library last night because of you...

“Of course,” she muttered under her breath, her voice laced with venom. It was only fitting that you had managed to distract her into forgetting something as trivial yet necessary as a textbook. You were becoming a consistent thorn in her side. And speak of the devil,

You entered the greenhouse. Wednesday’s gaze flicked to you for a moment as you made your way to the empty seat beside her. You sat without so much as a glance in her direction.

When the class began, the new teacher, whatever her name was Wednesday doesn't care, droned on about invasive species and their effects on native flora.... just like you invaded her perfectly built world.

You weren’t writing anything down.

Your notebook remained mostly untouched, save for a few idle scribbles. Instead, you stared straight ahead, your gaze fixed on some undefined point, your expression unreadable.

For all your skill in fencing and your mysterious arrival at Nevermore, there was an emptiness in you, that Wednesday can feel now...

You didn’t belong here or maybe you belonged too much, in a way even Wednesday couldn’t define.

She first won against you during lunch....

During lunch, Wednesday sat at her usual table with Enid, who was excitedly recounting the latest gossip she’d overheard from the other werewolves. Her voice was a constant hum in Wednesday’s ear, background noise she had learned to filter out with practice.

Then Enid’s chatter abruptly halted.

“Y/N!”

Wednesday turned her head to see Enid bounding across the dining hall. You stood near the entrance, holding a tray of food with the same level of enthusiasm one might have for poison. Enid grabbed your wrist, tugging you toward their table with a persistence that could only be described as infuriating.

You shot Enid a glare that could have killed a lesser person, but the werewolf had her practice with Wednesday's death glare so she seemed unfazed. As you passed other students, you glanced down at Enid’s hand gripping yours with something bordering on confusion, as though physical contact itself was a foreign concept.

“Come on!” Enid chirped, her cheer undeterred by your visible disdain. “It’s not like it’ll kill you to sit with friends!”

“I wasn’t aware we were friends.” you said flatly.

“Not yet,” Enid said brightly, as if your protest were merely a formality.

Wednesday watched the exchange with a mixture of intrigue and irritation. How did Enid always manage to worm her way into the lives of people who radiated darkness like storm clouds? She had done it with Wednesday herself, and now it seemed you were the next victim.

When you reached the table, you didn’t sit immediately. Instead, you crossed your arms, glaring at Enid with a mix of irritation and reluctance.

“Sit!” Enid chirped, patting the bench beside her.

You exhaled sharply, muttering something under your breath, but eventually slid into the seat, placing your tray down.

Wednesday watched the exchange, her dark eyes narrowing at Enid’s ability to befriend the most unapproachable people. The werewolf had done the same with her. And though Wednesday would never admit it aloud, Enid had wormed her way into a space in her life that she didn’t entirely hate. Wednesday would be lying if she said she doesn't care for Enid at all.

Would Wednesday ever find you in that position? She quickly pushed that thought down the stairs, killing it then dumping the body.

“So,” Enid began, already bubbling with energy, “did you know that Wednesday is like, super into typewriters? It’s kind of adorable, honestly.”

“I’m right here,” Wednesday deadpanned.

“Oh, I know,” Enid said, grinning. “Speaking of which, didn’t you say you ran out of typewriter paper last night?”

“Yes,” Wednesday replied, her tone clipped.

“Well,” Enid continued, “I was thinking of taking Y/N to Weathervane for a tour. She’s new, after all."

You rolled your eyes. “I rejected.”

“Same thing!” Enid said brightly, brushing off your correction." Anyway, I thought, why not kill two birds with one stone? You can come with us and pick up your paper, Wednesday!”

Wednesday smirked faintly. She could tell you hated the idea of being dragged into Enid’s plans. You hated company, just as she did. But that made the opportunity to spite you all the more enticing.

“Fine,” Wednesday said, her tone even. “I’ll come.”

Enid clapped her hands together. “Yay! This is going to be so fun!”

You shot Wednesday a death glare, clearly unamused.

“Oh,” Wednesday added, her voice laced with mock innocence, “perhaps Eugene would like to join us. He loves coffee.”

“Eugene!” Wednesday called the hummer who was in their hummer's table. “Join us for a trip to Weathervane later.”

“Really?” Eugene’s face lit up, and he quickly shuffled over to their table.

You looked between Wednesday and Eugene, your glare sharpening. “This is ridiculous.”

“No,” Wednesday replied, meeting your glare with one of her own. “This is retribution.”

Enid, blissfully unaware of the tension, leaned forward with a grin. “This is going to be the best day ever!”

You didn’t respond, instead stabbing a piece of food on your plate with enough force to make the table tremble.

Wednesday allowed herself a small, victorious smirk. The fencing matches may have been your victories, but this round was hers.

But she hadn't seen the real you... until now.

“She’s late,” Wednesday muttered, already regretting her choice, agreeing to go just to spite you.

“Relax, Wednesday,” Enid said, though the werewolf sounded a little unsure herself. “Y/N doesn’t strike me as the punctual type. Or, you know, the type who tells people things. Like ever.”

Eugene adjusted his glasses. “Do you think she just bailed? Maybe she doesn’t actually want to come. I mean it has been almost half an hour...”

“She’s coming,” Wednesday said with conviction. She didn’t know why she was so certain, but she was.

Finally, you appeared in the distance, walking toward them with a measured, unhurried pace.

You stopped a few feet from the group, your hands shoved into your hoodie’s pockets, and regarded them with your usual, unreadable expression. You didn’t apologize for being late.

“You’re late,” Wednesday said, her tone biting.

You raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

Eugene offered an awkward wave. “Uh, hey, Y/N.”

Enid quickly stepped in. “Glad you made it! We’ve been waiting forever, but, like, no big deal or anything.”

You didn’t respond to Enid’s cheerfulness, your gaze briefly flickering to her before shifting elsewhere.

“Well,” Enid said, clapping her hands together, “let’s go! The bus should be there any minute.”

The bus ride to Jericho was quiet, at least between you and Wednesday. Enid filled the silence with her usual chatter, talking about.... everything?

“Have you been to Jericho yet, Y/N?” Enid asked, turning to you with a curious smile.

You shook your head, your gaze fixed on the passing scenery outside the bus window.

“It’s cute,” Enid continued, unfazed by your silence. “Small, but cute. Oh, but you should know, some of the normies there aren’t super friendly to outcasts. So, it’s always good to go with people who’ve got your back, you know?”

At her words, Wednesday saw something flicker in your eyes. It was brief, barely there, but it was enough to catch her attention.

A shadow of acknowledgment, perhaps, as you gave a small nod.

The bus arrived at Jericho and the group hopped down.

Enid led the way, her excitement not affected by your clear preference for distance. You trailed behind, keeping a noticeable gap between yourself and the others.

Eugene tried to bridge the gap a few times, but each attempt was met with silence, and eventually, he gave up.

The group stopped at a small general store first. Enid immediately darted toward the cosmetics aisle, her eyes lighting up as she scanned rows of nail polishes and makeup.

“Y/N, do you need anything?” Enid asked, glancing over her shoulder.

“No,” you replied simply, your voice as flat as ever.

Enid shrugged and continued her search, while Wednesday moved toward the stationery section, searching for her typewriter paper and ink. She found the items quickly enough but lingered, her gaze occasionally drifting toward you.

You stood near the entrance of the store, your hands in your pockets, watching a pair of children playing near the candy section. The boy, no older than six, was laughing as he chased his older sister around, their footsteps light and carefree.

It was subtle, but Wednesday noticed something in the way you observed them. Wednesday noticed something in your eyes, different from your usual detached demeanor. Intrigue? Longing? It was impossible to say.

“What’s so fascinating about them?” Wednesday asked, her voice low as she approached.

You didn’t look at her. “Nothing.”

“That’s doubtful,” she pressed.

You finally turned your head toward her, your expression unreadable. “Who says it’s your business?”

For a moment, Wednesday considered pushing further, but something in your tone warned her off. You weren’t going to share, and she didn’t care enough yet to pry the answer from you.

“Suit yourself,” she muttered, turning back toward the shelves.

When she returned to the checkout counter, you were already standing there, waiting. Wednesday placed her items on the counter, glancing at you from the corner of her eye.

You didn’t acknowledge her, your attention fixed on the glass door as though willing the others to hurry up.

“Got everything I need!” Enid chirped, appearing beside them with an armful of brightly colored products. She paid quickly, practically bouncing toward the exit.

“Come on, guys!” Enid called from the doorway, already heading outside.

Wednesday followed, her bag in hand. You moved to the door without a word.

The group had just stepped out of the store, when Wednesday’s sharp eyes caught movement near the counter, on the cashier, his shoulders hunched as five boys loomed over him. They weren’t just grabbing beers from the fridge. One of them yanked a handful of cash from the register

“C’mon, old man, don’t look at us like that,” one of them sneered. “Think of it as…taxes for keeping your store safe.”

The cashier muttered something inaudible, his voice trembling. The boys only laughed, grabbing more bottles and shoving them into their backpacks.

Enid’s cheerful demeanor shifted instantly. She grabbed Wednesday’s arm. “Wednesday…shouldn’t we do something? He needs help.”

Eugene took a step back, looking down at his feet. “I don’t know, Enid. These guys look...trouble. And we’re not even supposed to be here, technically.”

Wednesday frowned. On one hand, this was a normie problem, a petty theft that would resolve itself eventually. On the other hand, there was an undeniable injustice in letting the boys get away with it.

Before she could decide, the boys finished their “business” and left, swaggering out the door with their loot. Enid sighed, clearly disappointed but not wanting to push it further. “Guess we’d better go,” she said, turning to leave.

Wednesday hesitated for a moment but followed Enid and Eugene down the street. However, something nagged at her. A presence. She glanced back, and sure enough, there you were, still standing in the store’s doorway, watching the scene unfold.

“Y/N,” Wednesday called out,

You turned slowly, meeting her gaze with your usual unreadable expression. “I need to buy something.”

Enid frowned, confused. “But you said you didn’t need anything earlier.”

You didn’t respond to her. Instead, you turned on your heel and walked back into the store.

Curiosity piqued, Wednesday followed, with Enid and Eugene trailing behind. From their spot near the door, they watched as you approached the counter and spoke to the shaken cashier in a low, even voice. “I need that, that, and that.” you said, pointing to items behind the counter.

The cashier blinked, visibly confused but too shaken to argue. He retrieved an aluminum baseball bat, a heavy chain, and a pair of black gloves, placing them on the counter.

“What is she even going to do with all that?” Eugene whispered nervously.

You slid the gloves onto your hands, gripping the bat in one arm and coiling the chain loosely in the other. Without a word, you passed them, heading toward the alley where the boys had disappeared moments earlier.

“What is she—” Enid started, but Wednesday cut her off with a raised hand.

“Follow her,” Wednesday said, her voice low and firm.

The three of them trailed after you, keeping their distance until they reached the alley’s edge. Peeking around the corner, they saw the five boys lounging against a brick wall, laughing and drinking from their stolen beers.

When they noticed you, their laughter grew louder. One of them, tall with a cocky grin, stepped forward.

“Hey, little girl,” one of them said, smirking as he stepped forward. “What’s with the bat? You gonna play baseball with us?”

The others laughed.

But you didn’t respond. You simply stared at them, your grip tightening around the bat.

The first boy took another step closer, his smirk widening. “You lost, sweetheart? Or maybe you’re here to—”

CRACK

Wednesday can swear if she blinked she would've missed the swing of the bat as it connected with the boy's temple with a sickening thud, cutting his words short as he crumpled to the ground. The sound echoed through the alley, silencing the laughter instantly.

“What the hell?!” one of the boys shouted, his eyes wide with panic.

Wednesday’s breath hitched, her eyes locked on you as you adjusted your stance. There was no hesitation in your movements, no wasted energy. You were a predator, and they were your prey.

One of them lunged at you, but you sidestepped easily, the chain in your other hand whipped out, coiling around the wrist of the next boy like a serpent. With a sharp tug, you yanked him towards you, and the bat came down again with brutal precision on his head. Another one down.

“Holy crap,” Eugene whispered, clutching at Wednesday’s sleeve. “She’s… she’s gonna kill them!”

“No,” Wednesday murmured, her voice almost reverent. “She’s too precise for that.”

The remaining boys hesitated, their bravado faltering as they realized the odds weren’t in their favor. One of them pulled out a pocketknife, holding it up shakily.

“Stay back,” he warned, his voice betraying his fear.

You tilted your head slightly before the chain lashed out again, latching onto his hand. The knife clattered to the ground as you closed the distance, the bat swinging upward and catching him squarely under the chin. He collapsed in a heap.

You slowly picked up the knife and glared at the last two. With a flick of your wrist, the blade sailed through the air, embedding itself in the leg of one of them. He screamed, collapsing to the ground clutching his thigh.

The final boy tried to run, But you were faster. The chain wrapped around his ankle, sending him sprawling face-first onto the ground. The bat came down once, twice, and he was out.

The boy still screaming because of the knife latched onto his leg begged, “Take it! Take the money! Take the beer! Just don’t—” Your bat silenced him with a single, calculated blow to the side of his head.

Wednesday’s lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smirk. There was something captivating about the way you moved; calculated, efficient, merciless. Not a single touch landed on you, and yet you left all five of them groaning on the ground.

You crouched down, rummaging through the pockets of the nearest boy. Pulling out a wad of cash, probably way more than what they even stole. You rose and picked up the bag of beers.

As you passed the trio at the end of the alley, Wednesday’s gaze followed you, her smirk still there, she wouldn't hide it because she was, truly, for the first time in her life, impressed.

Wednesday followed you instantly, and the other two followed hesitantly... stopping just inside the doorway as you approached the cashier.

“I’d like to return this bat,” you said, placing it on the counter alongside the cash and the beer.

The cashier stared at you, wide-eyed and speechless.

Without waiting for an answer, you turned and walked out of the store, passing by the trio without so much as a glance.

Wednesday watched as you made your way to the bus stand, and just stood there. The three of them stood there in stunned silence.

Enid was the first to break it. “Okay, I take it back. She’s not just like Wednesday. She’s way scarier.”

Part 2

[A/n: Tried a new route, Didn't really find much fics out there where reader is the one who is more badass , so thought about writing one myself lol, Comment how you guys like this new one]

[yanderes-galore]

Fandom: Demon Slayer

Character: Kokushibo

Intentions:Romantic/Platonic

Notes: With a demon slayer! S/o. Maybe he'd try to “convince” f̶o̶r̶c̶e̶ them to become a demon?

Thank you very much!

Sure! Been a while since I finished the Demon Slayer manga so I hope things are accurate. I did HCs since nothing was specified.

Yandere! Kokushibo with Slayer! Darling

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Possessive behavior, Forced demon conversion, Violence, Blood, Slight gore, Forced companionship/relationship.

The thought of him with a Demon Slayer obsession is... oddly fitting?

Normally a slayer obsession and a Demon wouldn't work all that well.

However, Kokushibo is known to enjoy a challenge.

His whole life he's been chasing strength, wanting to be stronger and fight foes.

He and his brother created the breathing techniques of demon slayers.

There's a good chance, no matter what one you have, Kokushibo will be able to read it.

All techniques are similar to one another in different ways.

Even if you made your own, Kokushibo would be able to pick up on what you sampled from based on your teachings.

I actually think Kokushibo would find more entertainment in the fact you made your own.

You'd give him a challenge to figure out and a new battle experience.

Battle is something Kokushibo understands.

Kokushibo would enjoy a demon slayer obsession because he can test them.

Kokushibo has always had a strange fixation on legacy.

He feels successors are needed to be properly remembered.

He chose to be a demon for strength, to be stronger... to be remembered.

There's a good chance you would spark the thing he has for legacy.

He would most likely want to see if you're strong enough to learn from him.

He doesn't seem to have an outright hatred for slayers.

He may not like humans, but he still respects a good fighter.

Kokushibo's obsession actually doesn't start until you fight him.

It's then as a slayer, perhaps even a Hashira, you prove to him that you learned well.

Granted, you can't kill him...

Although, you manage to be strong enough to cut him a few times.

All, if not most, are clean cuts.

Unfortunately, you could never get a clean cut on his neck.

Kokushibo's obsession would begin because he's impressed with what you managed to do with breathing techniques.

Now, you could make a fine fighter if you let him help you.

The issue is... most slayers are very prideful.

There's a good chance you aren't going to willingly allow yourself to be made a demon.

You aren't fighting to necessarily get stronger, you're fighting to make life safer for humanity.

How noble... yet it's such a fragile and weak mindset.

I like to imagine Kokushibo allows you to flee a couple times just to fight you again.

It's been a long time since he's felt oddly... excited to fight someone.

He will wait to propose a deal with you.

In fact, he even tells you during some fights he enjoys clashing swords.

You're great entertainment.

Even while he listens to Muzan's words, he finds himself wondering when you'll fight again.

Your style and determination has captivated him...

If only you saw the bigger picture.

One battle you're going to falter.

Each time you think you can read him, he unveils a new Moon Breathing technique.

You'll push yourself too hard... allowing him to get the upper hand...

Then you'll disarm you... probably literally.

It's then Kokushibo forces you into his proposition.

You've proven yourself to him countless times... so...

He offers you immortality and strength, in return for your loyalty to Muzan.

He'll even take you as his apprentice if you accept.

The entire time you're bleeding... arm gone in one swipe as Kokushibo points his bloody blade at your throat.

He acts like this is a decision... That you can choose this...

In reality, his desires have made the choice for you.

Even if you bleed out, tell him no, try to die on him...

He'll force you to take his blood... Muzan's blood.

Truth is, he's quite attached to this slayer.

Even as you grin and tell him to go to Hell... blood gushing from your severed limb and coating the floor...

Kokushibo quietly tilts your head to the side, a clawed hand cutting your skin more... until he cuts his own.

Even if you realize what's happening, you can't fight it.

He's careful on the amount, checking to make sure the transformation goes right.

By the end of it he plans to have another loyal follower to Muzan, and hopefully some form of legacy.

You'll hate him, it may even force fights between you.

Yet Kokushibo doesn't mind, he's always been rather reserved.

Your fights provide more chances to learn your style and break you down.

You'll realize your place soon....

He should have killed you, unfortunately...

He likes you too much to give up his sparring partner.

You're no longer a slayer, you're a demon like him.

Yet you can still be a swordsman.

Kokushibo takes you under his wing once Muzan accepts it.

You are then trained to be his apprentice, to learn your new abilities and hone your old ones.

If he's platonic, it's a bond between teacher and student.

If he's romantic, then he not only treats you as an apprentice... but his lover.

After all, you're strong enough for the title.

Even if you hate it.

Kokushibo is often reserved and cold.

The only time he expresses anything else is with you.

Now, as a demon, you won't ever need to stop battling.

Eventually you'll accept your new life of immortality, maybe even climb the ranks.

Kokushibo feels oddly... prideful once he makes you his.

Through Muzan's blood, you are now connected.

Even if you were fully prepared to accept your death... Kokushibo took that away from you...

Now you two will be able to fight endlessly, skills growing stronger... along with his obsessive tendencies towards you.

[nova-anya]

The Romance Tropes Legacy Challenge

 Hello! Welcome to the Romance Tropes Legacy Challenge! (based on the Book Tropes Legacy Challenge by @callmerunaa)

______________________________________________________________

This is a ten generation legacy challenge featuring many elements from popular fiction tropes involved to make your sims’ love stories as unique (or stereotypical) as you wish!

Notes: –This challenge was inspired by @callmerunaa on Instagram and pinterest.  However, many of the generations are altered/changed completely to fit some of my personal preferences for gameplay style and I just thought I’d create a google document of my own way of playing. Link to Original: https://in.pinterest.com/callmerunaa/

–If you do play through these generations, please note that because of the nature of the sims,  some of the generations will require some ~imagination!~  Due to this, the story is definitely more… “storyline” based. 

–Not every generation has required aspiration/traits/skills to learn/ or jobs. For many of them, I have “No Requirement” if it is not important for the character’s story. You are free to choose your own based on the character and how you perceive their life continuing on. Even if I have provided certain aspirations, you are not stuck with this if it is not what you feel is right for the character. You are therefore free to change any aspect of the challenge to suit you and your gameplay style.

–The last two generations DO include occult gameplay. However, I may be including alternate versions if playing with occults is not your thing/ you would like to keep your gameplay more realistic.

–If you use this version, please tag me! IG: @novanyax Twitter: @xnovanya Youtube: novaanya

Episode One: https://youtu.be/14IoZ4XzLQU?si=BEW2B_ZjHKLJ5r8Z

Generation I: (High School Drama || Love Triangle || Opposites Attract)

World: Copperdale

Aspirations: Goal Orientated/Best Selling Author

Traits: Geek

Job: No Requirement

You hear your mother shout up the stairs that the bus is almost here and it’s time for school. You throw your hair in a messy bun and quickly finish getting ready before rushing down the stairs. Despite the full breakfast of eggs, pancakes, fruit, and bacon laid out on the table, you stuff a piece of toast in your mouth and fly out the door wishing your mom goodbye. Now it’s off to high school where you don’t exactly have many friends. You are captain of the chess team though, so at least you have that going for you. Unfortunately it does not do much in the romance department. You also have a huge crush on the football quarterback and honestly who wouldn’t? They’re so dreamy. But they’d never notice you. And then there’s the cheerleading captain who hasn’t always been the nicest to you. However, when you get paired with one of them for a school project, drama ensues…

Objectives: –Start as a teenager

–Have a negative friendship with the cheerleading captain and a crush on the football team captain.

– Become Chess Team Captain

– Get paired with one of them for a group project and from there… let drama ensue. 

– Go to prom with one of them.

Spouse Reqs.: – Must be either Cheerleading Captain or Football Team Captain

–Must have the “Active” trait

Child Reqs.: –No Requirement

Generation II: (Holiday Romance || Workaholic || Second Chance)

World: San Myshuno

Aspiration: Drama Llama/Fabulously Wealthy

Traits: Ambitious

Job: Lawyer (Private Attorney Branch)

In the city, your life is busy all the time. You don’t have time for friends or relationships and are instead looking forward to advancing in your career. You are adamant about keeping focused and not letting anything sway you from your goal. With the holiday season quickly approaching, you can’t help but roll your eyes at the festivities. Who cares about this corporate, capitalistic holiday anyway? Bah humbug! However, after your parents convince you to take a break from work and come back to your hometown for a few days, you meet an old flame, and they show you the true meaning of the holidays. Will whatever it is between you two survive past the holidays?

Objectives: –During your teenage years while completing the ‘drama llama’ aspiration, have the sim you break up with be the sim that shows up later in the challenge. 

– Gain the ‘wokaholic’ lifestyle in the city.

–Don’t have a romantic relationship with anyone while in San Myshuno. You can have hookups and friends, but nothing serious. Remember, your job is your life!

–Have a ‘second-chance’ romance with the sim from your teen years that you broke up with.

–After your holiday romance is over, decide if it will continue or it was just not meant to be. From here, you can decide to either become a single parent, either through a mistake or through adoption, or continue to be with the person and have a happy life together.

Spouse Reqs.: –No Requirement

Child Reqs.: –Have at least two children

Generation III: (Single Parent || Friends to Lovers || Learning to Love Again)

World: No Requirement

Aspiration: Live Fast/Super Parent

Traits: Family Orientated

Job: Freelance Career 

Now that you’re raising your child all by yourself, you’re trying to do everything you can to be a good and supportive parent. How quickly they grow up! Some part of you can’t help but miss your little baby. Learning all of these shapes and numbers, letters and animals from the perspective of a child really makes you fall in love with the world again after major heartbreak. Old memories of you and your happy days with your partner and child haunt your dreams. Even though you told yourself you would never love again, you can’t help but long for that sense of companionship and love. However, by some chance, you happen to find someone you just click with instantly. The two of you become fast friends and you find you don’t want to be around anyone but them (except your child). Low and behold, the butterflies you thought you would never meet again have found themselves nestled deep in your stomach.

Objectives: –Lose your partner somehow after having one child together (if it's multiples that's fine).

  –Go all out for all holidays and always make sure your child always feels included.

–Have a great relationship with your child.

– Don’t have a romantic relationship until your child is at least a toddler. You can wait however long afterward to start a relationship with your partner, but your child must have a good relationship with them first.

– You are more than welcome to have more children with your new partner but it is not an obligation.

Spouse Reqs.: –Your first partner must leave your life after your child(ren). Either death or a divorce. Either way, they are not in your life. 

–Your second partner must become a friend before a lover and have a good relationship with your child. 

Child Reqs.: –Have one child with your first partner.

Generation IV: (Workplace Rivals to Lovers || PR Relationship || One Night Stand)

World: Del Sol Valley

Aspiration: Admired Icon/Master Actor-Master Actress

Traits: Self Absorbed

Job: Actor/Actress

On the bustling set of Del Sol Valley’s latest blockbuster film, tensions run high between you and your leading co-star. As actors, your chemistry on screen is undeniable, but behind the scenes, you're locked in a constant battle of egos and competitiveness. When a scandal threatens to derail the movie's publicity, the studio executives devise a plan to salvage their image: a fake romance between you and your co-star. Forced to put aside your differences and play the part of smitten lovers for the public eye, you reluctantly agree, knowing that your careers hang in the balance. But as you navigate red carpet events and staged paparazzi shots, something unexpected happens. A sizzling one-night stand blurs the lines between your fake relationship and real feelings. With the world watching your every move, you and your co-star must decide whether to keep up the charade for the sake of your careers or risk it all for a chance at true love.

Objectives: –As a child, join the drama club and remain until your graduation.

–After graduation, immediately move to Del Sol Valley and begin your life as a poor, struggling actor/actress.

–As you work your way up the acting career and have at least 4 stars of fame, begin a “secret romance” with a co-worker whom you do not have good compatibility with, encouraged by the PR Team. Of course this will take some creativity with the sims but you should play this however you have the means to!

– Have a one night stand with said co-worker and let feelings ensue.

–Whatever happens after this one night stand is really up to you. If you decide to continue with the relationship and make it official, kudos! If you decide it doesn’t mean anything and you’re better off apart and with another celebrity that’s fine too!

–Put a celebrity tile down on the Walk of Fame

Spouse Reqs.: – Must be a co-worker/ have at least four stars of fame.

Child Reqs.: –Have at least two children (at least one boy who is not the heir)

Generation V: (Brother’s Best Friend || Unexpected Feelings || Slow Burn)

World: No Requirement

Aspiration: Goal Oriented/Computer Whiz

Traits: Bookworm

Job: No Requirement

As the child of world famous celebrities, you’ve never had many friends of your own. So instead, you find yourself eager to stick to your books and computers. Your brother, however,  is the talk of the town– always getting into scandals and dating someone new. He is constantly surrounded by friends who may have less than wholesome intentions. After all, you are who you know.  Speaking of, you’d always seen your brother's best friend as just that—your brother’s best friend. Growing up together, he was a constant presence in your life, a comforting one, whom you never thought of in a romantic light. But as the years passed and you both matured, something shifted. It starts with small moments—lingering glances that last a beat too long, casual touches that send shivers down your spine. You brush them off as nothing, attributing them to your overactive imagination. After all, he is off-limits, forbidden territory. He's your brother's best friend, and crossing that line would risk everything. But as you spend more time with him, you can't deny the growing tension between you. The easy banter turns into charged silences, and every smile feels like a secret shared between just the two of you. With each passing day, the walls you've built around your heart begin to crumble, revealing feelings you never expected. As you grapple with the unexpected rush of emotions, you wonder if he feels the same way. Can you risk everything for a chance at love with your brother's best friend, or will you let fear keep you from following your heart?

Objectives: –As a child, constantly spend time with your brother, either pestering him or hanging out with him and his best friend.

– Don’t have a best friend growing up, or many friends at all.

–You may have relationships growing up, but your BBF is never far away. Remember, he is your endgame.

–Do not get into a relationship with your BBF until you are a young adult.

Spouse Reqs.: Must be your brother’s best friend

Child Reqs.: No Requirement

Generation VI: (And They Were Roommates || Sworn off Love || Forced Proximity)

World: No Requirement

Aspiration: Drama Llama/Master Chef

Traits: Foodie

Job: Culinary (Chef Branch)/Restaurant Owner

You’ve spent countless nights in the kitchen, crafting exquisite dishes that you know would impress even the finest critics– each plate is born from your passion and dedication. It is your passion and life’s work to own your own restaurant so you barely have time for anything else– let alone romantic feelings. Let alone romantic feelings for your annoying roommate who always seems to get on your last nerve. They’re a whirlwind of annoyances– leaving messes everywhere, blasting music, and interrupting your perfectly maintained peace. But you do need the rent, and you’re barely home anyway. After a while though, their quirks become endearing and their laugh infectious. You eventually find yourself drawn to the very person who once drove you up the wall. Despite your resolve, love – or something like it –eventually finds its way into your heart until it's undeniable. This unexpected romance has swept you off your feet and navigating this difficult situation along with the unexpected feelings has you all turned around. Can you find room in your heart for more than just the smell of deliciously tasty dishes of your own design?

Objectives: –Join the culinary career in the chef branch.

–Do not get into any sort of relationship with anybody. Hooking up is fine as long as there is no actual romance between you

–Get a roommate to help with the bills.

–The relationship between you two can either be playful annoyance or actual animosity. However, one day something happens to change your feelings for each other.

–Becoming a restaurant owner is up to you, depending upon the quality of your dine-out pack. If you have the skill and willpower, go for it!

–Become a five-star restaurant owner if you do choose this career. If not, reach the top of the culinary career (chef branch).

–Once you and your roommate act upon these romantic feelings, it is up to you to decide how to proceed.

Spouse Reqs.: Must have been your roommate at some point.

Child Reqs.: Have at least one daughter who will become the heir.

Generation VII: (Mafia Boss || Accidental Pregnancy || Arranged Marriage)

World: No Requirement at first/ Eventually Tartosa or San Myshuno

Aspiration: Successful Lineage

Traits: Family Orientated

Job: No Requirement

You have always been so careful to plan your life out and make deliberate, thoughtful choices. You’d always been taught to keep your head down and your dreams modest. But a chance encounter with a captivating stranger has turned your world upside down. One night of uncharacteristic passion leaves you with more than just your memories. You’re pregnant. And not just with anyone’s child, but with the heir of a powerful mafia boss. As the reality of your situation sinks in, you are left to grapple with your fear, confusion, and the looming presence of the mafia world that has now laid its claim on you. You know your life will never be the same and looming threats surrounding you have you more anxious than ever. Navigating this new and treacherous terrain has you seeing the world in a new light and your new husband is as ruthless as he is protective. You must now find a way to safeguard you and your unborn child all while your heart begins to betray you. Among this world of shadows and danger at every turn, you discover that sometimes fate can lead you to a destiny you never thought possible– where love and danger walk hand in hand.

Objectives:  –Get all As in school.

– Be well into your career, on your way to the top of whatever career you choose.

– After an unexpected night of passion, engage in unprotected woo-hoo with a sim who happens to be the son of a mafia boss or a mafia boss.

–Get pregnant with his baby.

–From here, your life is uprooted. You are no longer surrounded by your own family and friends but are instead  whisked into the life of a mafia wife where danger awaits at every turn.

– You are now in a forced/arranged marriage to the mafia boss/’ son. This relationship is up to [the player]. Whether he is cold on the outside/warm on the inside, actually kind of a himbo, or actually kind of an a-hole, however you take the story will certainly be interesting.

– If you decide to stay in the mafia after the birth of your child is up to you. They could be protected by their mafia family and raised in the mafia life, or you could whisk them away from the dangers of growing up in this family. Many different factors can affect this.

–However, your child must still have an essence of their father. How deep this goes is up to the player.

– No matter how you play this out, your first child (the heir) must grow up SPOILED.

Spouse Reqs.: –Must be the son of a mafia boss/must become the mafia boss.

Child Reqs.: –Must have at least one child with the above spouse who will become the heir for the next gen. They do NOT have a good relationship with their father. 

–They are spoiled rotten.

–However you decide to have children after that is up to you.

Generation VIII: (Bodyguard x Client || Annoyance to Lovers || Protective Streak)

World: No Requirement 

Aspiration: Admired Icon/Party Animal

Trait: Party Animal

Job: None

You never even wanted a bodyguard. Let alone this stoic imposing figure whose presence felt suffocating at best and a constant reminder of your father’s overbearing control at worst. You resent their watchful eyes which feels like an intrusion into your every move. They, as a figure, represent the golden cage you grew up in and how your life will never truly be your own. You’ve grown accustomed to pushing boundaries and testing limits to see how far you can go before they intervene. And they always do. A stern glare or sharp word only fuels your defiance. Every exchange is snarky and exchanged like daggers. They see you as a reckless child who needs constant supervision while they are an obstacle to your freedom. However, danger from your fathers’ enemies lurks just behind every corner and you find yourself leaning more on your bodyguard than you care to admit. One night where emotions run high and adrenaline is surging, you are faced with the reality of whatever situation you have gotten the two of you in now. Walls come crashing down and in the heat of the moment, the attraction between the two of you is undeniable. What started as animosity has transformed into a passionate and fiery love. In this unpredictable world, you have found a love that has defied logic and reason and ignited itself with the intensity of a wildfire.

Objectives:  –As the spoiled rich child of a mob boss, they are going to make sure you are protected all the time. Have a bodyguard who lives with you and follows you everywhere. 

–Go out to every party you are invited to.

–Have mostly mean interactions with your bodyguard or simply ignore them whenever they are in your presence.

–Have something occur that lands you into trouble, where your bodyguard must come save you from the danger.

–From here, have some sort of relationship blossom between the two of you.

Spouse Reqs.: —Must have been a previous bodyguard.

Child Reqs.:  –Have an ok relationship with the next heir. You are not particularly the most LOVING mother, but you do want the best for them.

Occult Generations:

Generation IXa: (Human x Vampire || Rich Bachelor || Masquerade Ball)

World: Forgotten Hollow

Aspiration: Drama Llama/No Requirement/Any of the Vampire Aspirations

Traits: Music Lover

Job: Any sort of artsy job: writer, painter, photographer, mixologist, comedian

You’d never had many job prospects or really even any life prospects as you settled into becoming a young adult. You have a job but it isn’t anything permanent, or really anything you could make a living off. Thankfully your family is comfortable enough to support you. You find that you just don’t have the passion for anything. Everything is too corporate. Too boring. The one place you could escape to, however, is your music. The sweet melody of playing an instrument gives you the ability to lose yourself and forget all of your problems for a while. You decide, with much encouragement from your parents, to pursue a degree in fine arts. Then, in the darkened corners of the library, you meet them: a captivating stranger whose gaze holds ancient wisdom and a hunger you can’t quite place. As your bond deepens, you are whisked away to a small town– the bloodsucker’s home. Here you navigate the complexities of their world including politics and the unfortunate circumstance of you being human. However, after being invited to a masquerade ball to welcome you to the town, you find yourself surrounded by those who are much more interesting than the humans you grew up with and a world where vampiric intrigue and desire runs rampant. You decide to take the plunge into uncharted waters and grow a deep bond with one of the guests and now your whole world has changed. Your maker, your lover, your one has changed your life entirely. Now it is up to the two of you to navigate this new world together.

Objectives: –After graduating high school, you may get a job but it must be low paying and something your parents would not approve of.

–You soon are heavily encouraged to go to university by your parents and apply to either Foxbury Institute or The University of Britechester.

–It is here where you meet a vampire who you are immediately enamored with. 

–Quit university very quickly after this encounter and go with them to Forgotten Hollow.

–Have a masquerade ball/some sort of party to welcome you to the town where every vampire in town is invited. It is here where you meet the one. 

–Be turned into a vampire by your lover

–Turn others into vampires and live like vampire royalty.

Spouse Reqs.: –Must be a Vampire

Child Reqs: –Do not have children of your own but instead, you will adopt one of your “turned” as your child and raise them as your own. 

Generation Xa: (Vampire x Werewolf ||Forbidden Love || Love Will Find a Way)

World: Forgotten Hollow or Moonwood Mill

Aspiration: Soulmate 

Traits: Romantic

Skills to Master: No Requirement

Job: No Requirement

The ancient feud between vampires and werewolves has existed for millenia. Hatred runs like a river through the land and split the two worlds in a way that no one would ever dare to cross. And at first, you don’t. You are a loyal and determined child of the night who would never even think of going near one of those grungy dogs. But then you meet… them. Under the glow of a silver moon, your eyes meet and their presence ignites a fire in your cold, immortal heart. It is forbidden from the start, a love that defies the rules set by generations of hatred. Yet, you can’t stay away. Every secret meeting in the shadowy forest, every whispered promise under the stars, only binds you closer. Your romance is one for the ages. A true and pure love that you never even thought was possible. However, neither of your families would see it this way. In fact, they would see your love as the ultimate betrayal– a crime punishable by death.  Yet, the thought of a life without them was more terrifying than any punishment. Will you find a way to bridge the gap between the chasm of hatred between your people, or will your love story end in tragedy, as many before have warned? 

Objectives: –Have a good relationship with your parents and siblings.

–Don’t go to high school or drop out of high school before you can go. After all, you must protect your identity and everything to do with vampires must be hidden from the mortal realm.

–Meet a werewolf on the full moon and it is here where you happen to fall in love.

–Keep your relationship a secret from your family.

–Eventually the truth of your relationship will come out and it is up to [the player] on how the families will react.

Spouse Reqs.: –Must be a Werewolf 

Child Reqs: No Requirement

Non-Occult Alternatives: 

Generation IXb: (Betrayal || Hurt/Comfort || Love Triangle)

World: No Requirement

Aspiration: Drama Llama/No Requirement

Traits: Jealous

Job: No Requirement

Your whole world is shattered the moment you come home one night to discover your fiance’s betrayal. The life you have planned meticulously has crumbled before your very eyes and now you are left to question everything. It is here in your darkest hour when an old friend comes back into your life and offers a shoulder to cry on and a warm heart–something you thought you’d lost forever. Slowly you find comfort through the pain and eventually find the hurt beginning to ease thanks to your old friend. Just as you are seeing this glimmer of hope and maybe something more than friendship, a new charismatic and alluring figure enters your life. They awaken something deep inside of you and stir up emotions you thought you were too deep down to be experienced again. Torn between the safety and comfort of your friend and the exciting possibilities of someone new, you find yourself in the middle of a love triangle. As you navigate this intense web of emotions and feelings, you begin to discover love again and heal from the heartbreak and trauma of your past.

Objectives: –Get into a relationship in high school and get engaged immediately after graduation.

– At some point, stumble onto your fiance cheating on you with someone else.

–Find comfort in an old friend and lean on them in your time of need and healing. There are definitely some underlying feelings for them fluttering beneath the surface.

–Have an encounter with a new person that immediately catches your attention. From there, feelings develop between the two of you.

–Choose between the two love interests (or have both!).

Spouse Reqs.: –Be one (or both) of the two love interests you find comfort in after the betrayal of your partner.

Child Reqs.: No Requirement

Generation Xb: (Enemies to Lovers || Sports Romance || Forced Proximity)

World: Britechester

Aspiration: Sports Enthusiast

Traits: Active

Job: Soccer Team Player (University)

From the moment you set foot on the university’s soccer field, you knew it was not going to be easy. Every soccer match between Britechester and Foxbury is hard fought and hard won. But you never expected your biggest challenge would be feelings for your fiercest rival– another member of the soccer team. They’re everything you’re not– confident, brash, charming, and undeniably talented. You can’t stand the way they smirk when they outplay you or how cocky they act when they are praised by the coach. Yet, there's an undeniable spark every time you clash. It’s not just competition; it’s chemistry. Your teammates see it, the coaches see it, and deep down, you feel it too. Everything changes when your coach announces a major change to how the team will work. You and your rival are to be co-captains for the rest of the season. The team’s success depends on you two working together, setting aside your differences to lead and inspire. Resistance is futile—your coach makes it clear that if you don’t cooperate, the team will suffer, and so will your chances of making it to the championship. With team drama, injuries, and sidelined players, you find yourselves having to rely on each other to keep grades up as well as the team spirit. Extra practice sessions and mandatory study hours late at night in the commons lead to the crumbling of walls and you see a side of them you never expected to see. Will you let this connection between the two of you blossom into something more or will your fierce pride keep you from finding true happiness with the one meant for you?

Objectives: –Join a soccer team as a child and continue sports activities into high school.

–Get accepted to either Foxbury or Britechester on a sports scholarship in which you play on the soccer team.

–Have a good relationship with most of your team– except for ONE member who just keeps getting underneath your skin.

–Reach “Playmaker” level of the Soccer career.

–Gain the “Energetic” lifestyle.

–Gain romance with the one member who keeps getting underneath your skin and see where the romance takes you.

Spouse Reqs.: –Must be your old soccer team player teammate

Child Reqs.: No Requirement

Thanks for Playing! <3

[simkhira]

Salim Benali and Jade Rosa are co-parenting their twins, Caleb and Chloe, the best way they know how. 🤎

extremely long backstory:

I have always wanted to complete a short lifespan legacy challenge. I usually get too attached to my families to finish. However, I decided to go for it... starting with Salim Benali.

I started in @coolpuppy12's 'DooDoo' save file (highly recommend), where Salim lives with Johnny Zest. I thought this was very fitting. Spoiler Alert: Johnny ends up marrying Zoe Patel and having a son, JJ Landgraab. We love them.

So, like most modern romance origin stories, Salim opened Cupid's Corner, and matched with multiple women. He spent most of his (short) days dating around and having one night stands. The result of his one night stand with Jade Rosa? TWINS.

At first, this was fine. Jade was actually the first date Salim developed a crush on. When she told him about the pregnancy, he was excited. When she asked to move in with him, he was... not so excited? (Remember, he shared a small two bedroom apartment with Johnny, Zoe, and Baby JJ.) Nonetheless, they allowed Jade to move in. When she asked him to be in a relationship (yes, she asked), he said "yes" out of pure obligation. He never intended for things to get this far, but here we are.

Instead of taking Jade seriously, Salim took other girls on dates. Yes, it was wrong. Yes, he got caught. Jade was heartbroken, pregnant, and forced to live with her "ex" (AND HIS ROOMMATES!) Things quickly took a turn for the worst. Jade ended up (autonomously) fighting Salim, and that's when they both knew it was time to call it quits.

Jade saved up enough money to rent a two-bedroom apartment in the Spice District. Salim felt bad about disturbing the Zests' peace, so he also moved into a one-bedroom apartment in the Arts District. Thanks to Lumpinou's child custody mod - the twins, Caleb and Chloe, alternate between each household every three days. This isn't an ideal situation, but at least he and Jade are cordial enough to co-parent.

Initially, I was solely focused on Salim... but now, I alternate between households. I never thought I would be a Jade Rosa apologist, but here I am. She deserves a happy ending. Salim deserves to find what he's looking for. AND I deserve to finish this f-cking short lifespan challenge once and for all! 🤎

simkhira

[phoenotopia]

Introducing Star Iliad!

We’re happy to announce our next game, “Star Iliad”! Now in development.

Star Iliad is a retro-futuristically themed Metroidvania that takes place inside a giant star whale.

See the teaser trailer!

In the game, you’ll play as Blythe Braves, a Star Ranger who patrols a remote region of the interstellar frontier. Heeding a distress signal, she investigates to find a curious large rock formation in the shape of a whale. Shortly after landing and locating a couple of castaways, her ship is destroyed by unknown alien creatures. Stranded and surrounded, but not outgunned, she joins forces with other castaways in a bid to escape. A big adventure ensues!

Where Phoenotopia had more Zelda-style leanings, Star Iliad dives deeper into Metroid territory with a larger, interconnected map and a stronger focus on gun combat. We’ve learned the correct lessons from Phoenotopia— which is… Guns are Good 👍 Bats are Bad 👎 (joking!)

The story won’t be taking a backseat. While Phoenotopia featured a large ensemble cast, Star Iliad narrows its focus to a smaller group of more thoroughly explored characters.

(Characters can leverage expressive portraits to drive emotionally charged scenes)

Some additional in-development pics. We have both very finished & very unfinished looking areas.

Legacy of Phoenotopia

Since Phoenotopia’s development concluded, we’ve received some really encouraging emails from fans expressing how much they enjoyed it and even sharing their concern about whether we were doing alright. This meant a lot, especially considering Phoenotopia was not a strong seller.

For a while now, I’ve felt the need to allay those fears and let everyone know that we’re alive and hard at work on something new. With Steam’s fourth anniversary for Phoenotopia approaching, it felt like the right moment to finally share an update.

True, Phoenotopia was not a strong seller, but it would not turn out to be as bleak as I previously believed. Long after sales should have dwindled to zero, the game found a small, but steady threshold—a lifeline that has kept us funded. We’ve also been able to rely on family (and the occasional side job or two) to stay afloat.

Lastly, I think the game got some organic word of mouth, so there would be random times here and there where a youtuber or renowned streamer covered Phoenotopia and we’d get an unusual sales spike out of nowhere.

So, to all the fans who supported us, whether by buying the game, spreading the word, or just sending us kind messages—thank you! You’ve sustained us in ways you may not even realize, and we’re incredibly grateful 🙇

Chronicling Star Iliad’s development with a new Dev Log! (on wordpress)

After Phoenotopia, there was a bit of wandering around and thinking about what was next.

I wanted to settle into a quieter pace of development for a while. With Phoenotopia, I had been doing long form dev log updates. I wanted to try something different – a smaller, but more frequent form of dev logging. And it appeared that the new dev blogging meta was social media like Twitter & Instagram.

But there was no point in starting right away. Because 4 years back, we didn’t know what we were working on. It would take about a year of exploring & feeling around before “Star Iliad” developed enough shape and form that it could be talked about. Then we started twitter (@StarIliad) and instagram (@StarIliad), and started posting. Not as regular as I thought I would it turns out – short form updates have their own unique challenges and dev logging is always easy to neglect.

Still, if you’re curious, you can look at the StarIliad twitter account and enjoy the past 3 years of short form dev log posts (it may keep you entertained for all of 10 minutes).

As for the instagram account, it never quite took off, basically dying right out the gate >_>

In any case, we’re in the midst of development. It’s difficult to see the finish line from here, so I can’t announce a release date. What I can announce is the return of the dev log, where like times of yore, I will be chronicling our thoughts and tribulations until we reach the finish line. I invite you to join us by subscribing to the new dev log on wordpress.

(Also, please wishlist on Steam! It helps with the algorithm)

[happylikeasadsong]

carmy’s always running out of time

i just need to get this out of my head once and for all.

i don’t know if someone has already mentioned this, but time is a recurring issue for carmy this season. He often feels like he’s behind schedule or something.

watching it for the first time i didn’t notice carmy’s mention to time until i got to the syd and carmy scene in episode 9., so i decided to rewatch just to catch every time he mentions it throughout the season.

so he’s reasoning to stop smoking was time, not health. it was the means to get to the end goal (get the star, not let the team alone) he wants to stay sharp and focused and he can’t waste five minutes on a cig break. so he gets the nicotine tablets instead.

(just a side note: ijbol every time his speech was compromised by the damn tablets I couldn’t take him seriously when he was fighting to not spit that thing out. i also wanted to smack that shit out of his mouth so many times)

not smoking leaves him impatient and more sassy than ever, and I can’t help but to trace a parallel line between not smoking and his sudden bursts of anger (him telling nat to figure out the money thing and stomping out of the office)

when sugar comes in she asks him why is he doing all that for, his answer is straight forward:

we see the first glimpse of the carmy we’re gonna see for the rest of the season: impatient, anxious and snippy.

in episode 3, doors, when richie comes up with his own non-negotiables list, he gets angry and defensive that someone would try and challenge his ideas. but he doesn’t have time to explain why cause he’s running out of time. He doesn’t even want to listen, cause he’s running out of time.

in episode 5, children, uncle jimmy brings the computer to run an analysis on the restaurant finances and things aren’t looking too good, but carmy, once again, refuses to listen, he just wants to get back to work and block all noise

it gets to the point jimmy has to pull him aside cause he’s being so annoying about it.

then we have episode 7, legacy, where we have this:

this scene, once again, reinforces the idea of him always getting ahead on the next thing, never really enjoying the moment he’s in cause he has a job to do.

he barely lets sydney finishes her sentences, he already has everything mapped out in his head and thinks he doesn’t need to let her in the loop. he never slows down, is go go go time in his mind.

every second counts.

then finally, episode 9, apologies, where he apologizes to syd, he’s tired of always getting ahead, he wants to do differently:

she’s the only person he apologizes for constantly pushing for time and making her constantly having to play catch up.

as sydney states, it wasn’t a skill issue, but communication, something that she told him before and he didn’t listen. he never enjoyed the moment.

it made me think of when sydney asked him in episode 5 if he knew what he had was special when he was working under chef terry and he said he was always too busy to know it at the time.

now that he’s faced with ever closing, a place he thought it would last forever, I think he’s ready to admit that he doesn’t have to run anymore, he needs to stay in the moment.

(now this is just crack but this is so non-stop by hamilton coded lmfao

the man thinks he’s Alexander Hamilton writing the other 51 confederalist papers, assuming he’s the smartest in the room and that attitude will be his doom, sorry for the ref)

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: Winter Gen 1 pt.78

After ending her call with Mercury, Winter took Crimson inside having finished their magic lesson and it had started to rain.

Winter: Let's go squirt.

She called him as she headed inside without checking if he was following. Inside she found Peyton in the living room helping Hannah, their youngest, to stand. Crimson immediately ran over to his older sister Adrianne, his wings not yet strong enough to carry him, and jumped on her back.

The family of five moved from San Myshuno to New Crest at the end of the summer after they brought home their third baby. Their two-bedroom apartment was too small so Peyton had done the work needed to move them into a more spacious and family friendly environment.

Winter sat across from Peyton holding her hands out to Hannah and fluttering her wings to get the baby spellcaster's attention.

Winter: Hello beautiful girl. Come to Mama.

She cooed at the infant lovingly as Peyton held her steady.

Peyton: How's M?

Winter: I'm not sure. I didn't want to ask too much over the phone but she sounded like herself.

Peyton: Good. I don’t want to have to kick my brother's ass.

Winter: Language!

She snapped.

Peyton: Sorry.

Crimson: Dad's in trouble.

Winter: I'm sure it was a misunderstanding. If something was wrong Kason would have called.

Winter responded vaguely, not wanting to get into detail with the kids around. Peyton rolled his eyes as he adjusted Hannah and tickled her tummy. Her sweet giggles filled the room.

Peyton: He should have called anyway. He never knew how to ask for help.

Winter smirked at Peyton's fatherly complaint.

Winter: Look at you sounding like the older brother.

Peyton frowned. He'd been defending himself against this jab for years, and it never seemed to stop bothering him.

Peyton: He's not older! He was only born 3 minutes before me.

Winter: Slacker. What were you doing fixing your hair first?

She loved to tease him about how long he took to get ready. It took him hours, spending watcher knew how long making sure his hair was perfect. He recently let it grow out and she had to attempt the length looked good on him.

He didn't entertain her with a response as Hannah started to wobble forward eager to reach her mother. When she made it the last few shakey steps to Winter they stood and Peyton kissed her head.

Peyton: Hannah Banana you are getting so big. Soon you'll be sprouting your wings and making trouble like these two wildlings.

As soon as his arms were free Adrianne and Crimson filled them. Peyton, like his brother, was an attentive parent and though he didn't have triplets he had his own personal trials raising three half-fae children.

Winter and Peyton sat at the kitchen island after getting all the kids into bed. They were finalizing their travel list seeing that they were traveling separately.

Peyton: You sure you can handle taking your stuff, Adrianne and Hannah's? That's a lot for one person Winter and I don't want you to get hurt or lose something on the way.

He asked while checking off the last of the items on his phone.

Winter: Babe you're traveling with all the kids. Even if I thought I couldn't handle it, which I obviously can, I'd never tell you.

Winter gazed at him with love and admiration. Not many people knew this side of Peyton. All they saw was the spoiled, wild child he'd been after his mother had abandoned him, Kason, and their father when they were just toddlers. Winter wasn't even the one to make their relationship official it had been Peyton. She was guilty of seeing him as just a "pretty face" when they'd first met, she never thought they would end up married with three kids. Now she couldn't imagine her life without him

Winter: Peyton I can wait and we can all travel together.

Peyton: You've been talking about going to see M for weeks. Go check on our girl and give Kason a good knock over the head for me.

Winter knew he wouldn't take no for an answer, he would claim it was all for her benefit but M was one of Peyton's bestfriends and he cared about his brother deeply and though he'd never admit it he was secretly worried about the photos he'd seen online. They seemed to have disappeared nearly overnight but it didn't stop him from worrying about why his brother had been with a strange woman or wondering who had posted them and why.

Torn between wanting to stay with her family and her excitement over girl time with M had Winter a little moody. But she was leaving in the morning and a proper goodbye was owed tonight. She didn't need him to be worried about her so she pushed aside any lingering worry and turned up the charm.

Previous Next

Beginning

Sidebar: This post was a small way to update you on Winter's life. She had another kid and moved to Newcrest all without my permission but I guess Wild Fairy Winter doesn't need the watcher's approval to give her family a better life. It's also a part of the Challenge that she sees her friends every week and even though she's been hanging out with Kiersten It felt right that Winter has some much-needed screen time.

[kigieri]

20 Little Horrors

There might be something haunting the paddock and its drivers. The feelings growing, eating one of them after the other, none able to help themselves. Or may it simply be part of the human condition? Something they cannot escape because it lives and grows within them.

A/N: A Halloween fic!🎃 I got inspired by @motorsport-halloween to tip my pen into horror. Since I'm not that big on gore and murder, I challenged myself to more of a psychological horror approach. A little fun fact, as the wonderful and supporting @mariclerc already knows, I almost forgot the Ferrari boys. I had 18 drivers and was deeply confused who was missing. It was simple, the two men under the prancing horse.

This story on AO3.

It started with Logan. Dark circles under the eyes, fingers that rubbed slowly at his temple. The paranoia was palpable. Questions and doubts encircled him. Eating at him. His skin became thinner and paler. What shall one do without certainty, without a stable ground to stand on. You will fall.

The tick of Kevin's neck was something people got used too quickly. The outbursts he was able to excuse for a time. Then came the twitching of his fingers, not knowing what they wanted to do. He didn't control them. Crazy, he did not know if good or bad. He steered himself into the wall and into the abyss.

With time, there was a new aura around Daniel, one he couldn't hide. His eyes had a sheen to them, even while a smile graced his face. He felt heavy and they could see it. They saw all his moves, they saw what broke him down, and they saw him never standing up again. He felt as broken as they called him.

Questions got fewer for Nico. He didn't notice right away, but then a feeling of unease creeped in. Strategies that disregarded him, meetings he was never invited to, and then an entire part of his car's programming that was never implemented. They forgot him, slowly but surely, one after the other, until Nico himself questioned who and what he was.

The knuckle cracking was something Lando should stop, as was the lip biting, but he could not. Every race result crawled under his skin, bit at his inners. The self-doubt was hot and searing. He wanted to scream and cry. Never the finish he wanted, the one he needed. He wanted to rip out his hair. Not good enough, never on the level of his rivals. He would land in oblivion, as so many before him did.

A smirk had found its permanent place on Pierre's face. A contract signed, a seat secured, nothing to stop him. No one would or could stop him. His career would rise, he would have a legacy. Arrogance may drip off of him, but who could deny his qualities. His time would come, it was already long here in his mind. He was better than the rest of them. There was nothing that counted apart from that.

It weighted heavy. Regret followed Sergio everywhere. It stood at every corner he took. Opportunities missed, challenges failed and his dreams slipping through his fingers. Should he have done things differently, could he have? It strangled him.

It was unimaginable in Carlos' mind. They left him behind, to fend for himself. Without warning or help. They would regret it, he would make sure of it. Revenge may taste bitter in the end, but it flooded him hot and painful. He wanted to rip them to shreds, and he would do it. No matter what happened to him.

There was nothing Lance could not and would not ask for. Who would deny him something? His seat was secure until he decided that he was finished. There was no one better than him for it anyways. He thought some narcissism was good on occasion, and when that occasion became his day to day, why should he care? It was not his problem.

Life has uncountable facets. Valtteri, after years of focused dedication, became lost in them. There was not one thing he did more than another, it was one after the other, always something new. It excited him, as it distracted him. A life without a core will become void.

Sleep did not come easy to Lewis and the more stressed he was the worse it got. He followed his passions, in racing and other pursuits. He himself, however, stood to the sidelines. His health was important, but he could work with less sleep, there was so much to do. With time, the edges of his view became blurry and dark spots found their way into his vision, but there was more to be done.

Zhou didn't feel real, he had not for a long time. It was as if people saw through him, as if they reached through him, not remembering he was corporal. They called out for him when he stood right next to them, as though they could not see him. He had felt invisible in his childhood. He had felt invisible through his career. Now it was tangible, felt deep within him, the all encircling non-existence.

It was permanent for Esteban, something that had been there since before had sat in a kart. Some didn't like him, some did, but no one ever wanted what was best for him. They wanted him to stumble and fall. His distrust of the world around was no problem for him, he may be alone, but who needed people. He did not. They would only betray him anyway. That's what he told himself again and again as he drove them away.

Fernando watched himself as he rose to highs and fell to lows. Always from the outside, he could not remember the last time he had controlled his own actions. They came to him, they possessed him, and he let them reign. He did not recall how to perform these simple actions alone. There came times he became thankful for the mindlessness, the fact he did not need to steer any longer.

There was nothing left for Max. His goals had been achieved. He had done what he sat out in life to do. There were other pursuits open to him, but non tasted as sweet as the one he had already embarked on. He had resigned some time ago and was simply waiting for other people to notice. He was finished with it all.

Alex was being crushed under the weight on his shoulder, slowly but surely. Expectations for him were high, and his performance not so much. He could not sleep, could not eat, stress was clinging to every fiber of his being. He considered, while waiting for lights out, if being crushed was not the better solution.

There was rage within Yuki. It had come out in the car at the beginning, but it became more and more tangible outside of it too. People noticed, he noticed. Everything around him tinted red. Anger never left him again. There was no stopping the insults, or, at last, his fists.

George was simply better. His talents did not only lay on track, but in racing he had made it far, hard work and sacrifices paying off. He could maneuver the car, could use chances, and if someone else bottled his race that was by no fault of his own. There were non better than him and he would show it. Why should he learn new things or get better, when his work was already superior.

A silent child, that's how his mother described Oscar. He was never one for screaming or crying, complaining or expressing joy. His expressions changed, his face was stoic, or he smiled, or rolled his eyes, but his mouth stayed shut. He saw little need to express himself with words. With time, he forgot how to do so, little by little.

It had gripped Charles's tight and never let him go. The pressure was unbearable, it ripped at him, crushed him mind and body. There as a constant nausea, fear of failure, fear of disappointment. He loved it all, more than himself, and this sport would eat him alive.

All of them were haunted.

Logan was packed by paranoia.

Kevin went crazy.

Daniel was a broken man.

Nico was forgotten.

Lando drowned in self-doubt.

Pierre was arrogant.

Sergio felt regret.

Carlos was consumed by revenge.

Lance was a narcissistic.

Valtteri got lost.

Lewis did not sleep.

Zhou turned invisible.

Esteban distrusted.

Fernando got possessed.

Max was resigned.

Alex was crushed by expectations.

Yuki felt rage.

George felt his superiority.

Oscar was silent.

Charles felt the pressure.

In the end, none of them could escape.

@kigieri 2024. All rights reserved. Do not copy, steal, translate or repost any of my work.

[pixelnrd]

hello! ive binged your blog this past week and have been so invested and impressed with how professionally everything has been done. I particularly liked the snippets of your 'process' you've hinted at in other asks. I havent been around since the beginning so i wanted to ask what inspired you to undertake such a large project! or, rather, did you expect it to be as big as it became? each generation has 70+ daily posts, their portrait headshots, family portraits... i love it! were you trying to build an audience when you started out? was it a covid project that you had time to build a huge queue for? i think ill be starting my own narrative simblr here soon and i'd love to hear your thoughts or advice about your journey with it, if any.

Hello and thank you for such a lovely message, it's so nice to receive feedback on the quality of my Decades Challenge because I do put so much effort in behind the scenes thanks to my agonising perfectionism!

As a project it has grown beyond what I thought it would be, to a point that I had to reign it back in in early-2022 because I couldn't keep up. I'll put more detail under the cut ✨

The Langstons started as a covid project in 2020. I was an unemployed student with a lot of time on my hands. I'd done legacies before and was pretty good at getting close to the end so that was the 'project', to do the Decades Challenge. And while looking for inspiration like cc and builds etc I found simblr and discovered people were posting their Decades Challenges here with narrative attached. By this stage I'd already played a fair bit into my Langston family (they had 4 kids by that point) so I decided to start posting my sims as well, which pushed me to put a bit more effort in with shots, story, editing etc because I had imposter syndrome. I didn't intend for there to be much narrative or story, and I think that's pretty obvious when reviewing the 1890s Langstons, but it started to grow as I was posting because I wanted to give my sim characters justifications for their life paths I was sending them on... and it all kind of took off from there, as a Decades Challenge story.

Covid over 2020 and 2021 in my country forced us into hard lockdowns, and over those 2 years I had heaps of spare time for home-based hobbies - so I just kept pushing myself to keep going with my Decades Challenge for something to do. I got really into creating storylines and costuming and wanting to do the project 'justice' because of how much effort was going in and how many generations I needed to cover to finish it. Then I stared doing lookbooks, creating portraits and character pages, and then making cc (which was a fun side project).

I wanted to build an audience at the start because I wanted to gauge whether anyone was as interested in my sims as I was in others', and when I stared getting feedback and responses to my posts it was very validating and flattering, so that spurred me to keep up. I never dreamed it would get the audience it has now! It's nice being told that something you are making is good. IRL at the time, I was pretty miserable - I graduated my Masters without a job, I was trying to conceive and failing, I was lonely due to covid and lost some of the best years of my 20s - but simblr made me happy and was a distraction from those hard things and so I really poured effort into the thing that brought me happiness.

2022 and 2023 forced me to pull back from my Decades Challenge project due to pregnancy and becomming a parent. It felt very natural to drop it at the time, but since finding my groove with parenting and my new life I still want to finish this project because it's been nearly 4(!) years of effort and I'd hate to leave it so close to the end. So that's why I'm still here - in a reduced capacity to what I was in 2020 and 2021 at my peak - trying to get it done. I don't post lookbooks or do cc anymore, because I just don't have the time anymore. But everyone is so encouraging, I have made some nice friends here and I'm constantly in awe of and inspired by the sims, content and stories others are creating. There is so much more potential for historical gameplay in the years since I started my Decades Challenge - farming! horses! infants! - and I hope that my project has inspired others to have a go! That's the best legacy I could hope to leave...

[firstdeerwife]

Epilogue

The first man and the first woman

Time moved forward, and the Garden of Eden became a distant memory, a myth that humanity evoked with a mixture of nostalgia and mystery.

Adam and Eve, the first human beings, left an indelible mark on history, not only for their creation and the loss of paradise but also for the love and perseverance they demonstrated throughout their lives.

Their story became a legend, a narrative passed down from generation to generation.

The tales of their life outside of Eden, their challenges and triumphs, were intertwined with humanity’s teachings about love, redemption, and sacrifice.

Adam and Eve were remembered not only as the progenitors of humanity but also as symbols of the ability to find beauty and meaning even in the most difficult circumstances.

The descendants of Adam and Eve built their own stories and legacies, but the echo of their love and struggles resonated through time.

In every corner of the world, the idea of unwavering love and a life of sacrifice resounded, reminding future generations that although Eden was lost, the spirit of Adam and Eve endured in the actions and decisions of those who came after.

Thus, the story of Adam and Eve, with all its joys and sorrows, became a beacon of hope and resilience, a reminder that true love and strength can transcend time and space, leaving a lasting mark on humanity.

---

"Wait, your name is Adam? Like the first man?"

Everything made sense now; she had heard her mother say many things about Adam but never thought they were true.

The blonde's attention immediately shifted to the woman sitting to the right of the first man, who had remained silent since the meeting began.

Her attire was similar to Adam's, differing only in the color palette and the initial she wore.

"E."

If this man was Adam, then that woman was...

"Wait, so you’re..."

The woman smiled and nodded.

"Nice to meet you."

The blonde could detect a slight tone of displeasure in the woman’s voice.

"Are you really Eve? The sec—"

The woman abruptly interrupted her before she could finish the sentence.

"The first woman. I am the first woman."

Her voice was soft but firm.

The blonde felt slightly embarrassed and uncomfortable under the gaze of humanity’s parents.

She had a slight feeling that this wouldn’t end well for her.

Poor Princess Morningstar would have to pay for the sins of her parents.

And this was only the beginning.

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 84: An Unplanned Moment

Noemi had found the explanation for��her discomfort. Somehow, despite their best efforts to prevent it, she and Luigi had managed to make a baby.

She sat staring at the faint, but unmistakable, second pink line on the pregnancy test with a million thoughts racing through her head. Would she and Luigi be able to finish school before the birth? How would they handle parenthood while both trying to establish their careers?

The loudest worry floating through her brain was how was Luigi would take the news. Noemi hadn’t wanted a child yet, but she had considered having children with Kiana previously. She was scared but knew she could handle it. Luigi on the other hand… he’d made it clear that fatherhood was in his plans but not something he was ready to think about for a long time. Well ready or not, she’d have to break the news to him that the future was now.

Stowing the test for later and washing her hands, Noemi caught a glimpse of her profile in the mirror and froze in her tracks.

Despite her love of fitness, she’d never had a completely flat stomach, but suddenly her midsection was notably larger and rounded. Of their own accord her hands found their way to her belly, cupping the curves that hadn’t been there a few moments before. Now she had a new worry – hiding her “condition” long enough to plan how to tell her boyfriend. She didn’t need him freaking out the minute he walked in the door!

Noemi was still worrying about how best to downplay her new figure and break the news gently when Luigi pinged her phone.

His Great Grandpa Storm had invited them and Denton to come grab dinner at the Humor and Hijinks festival. Luigi’s text cheerfully described his distant ancestor as “the nicest sim you’ll ever have the pleasure of knowing. I can’t wait to introduce you two!”.

The last thing Noemi wanted to do just then was meet someone new, no matter how nice they were, but she also wanted Luigi in the best possible frame of mind for what she had to tell him. With a sigh she texted back that she’d be there shortly before jogging into the bedroom and frantically hunting through her drawers for something to wear. The outfit she finally settled on wasn’t perfect, but she’d just have to hope it was good enough.

When she arrived, Luigi was preoccupied chatting with Denton about a hot new videogame his cousin was reviewing and gave her a vague nod.

He called out to the ghost who was apparently his grandfather that “this lovely lady is my girlfriend Noemi” before turning back to his engrossing conversation. As she made her own introductions to Storm, who quickly put her at ease with his kind and gentle manner, she vowed to hold it together for just a little while longer. Seeing Luigi, she’d been overcome with a desire to share her burden with the father of their child, but she knew now was absolutely not the time or place. They’d have their fun, get back home, and then she’d show him the test and brace for impact.

I did not plan this pregnancy. However, with rare exception it’s not generally my style to reverse big life events like this and so I rolled with it.

Even layered birth control does fail sometimes in real life, and they’ve certainly been having enough fun in the bedroom to “earn” this baby 😄!

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[prettybbychim]

a new thing i have discovered that i find Very Neat indeed

we know that childe’s constellation is of a narwhal and we also know that constellations are tied to your fate. those beyond celestia’s purview have constellations depicting themselves, not an animal or item like everyone else (these include the archons, aether and lumine, wanderer, albedo (?), and neuvillette)

that said, no one else’s constellations depict an opponent they will face or challenge they will overcome, instead they show something that is intrinsic to their nature

this is not a new thought by any means, but the wording in these boss drop descriptions lead me to believe that childe’s constellation changed when he fell into the abyss.

he left the abyss with a strong desire for battle, a need to constantly improve himself. become stronger, fight bigger and badder opponents to hone his abilities to their max capacity.

he was not like that before the abyss. but when he fell down there and he first laid eyes on the all-devouring narwhal, his fate changed course and his constellation mirrored that change

his lust for battle was thrust upon him, manipulated in such a way so that he would be strong enough to fight that massive and powerful opponent

he was given a vision, a delusion, and foul legacy. he was given a lust for battle and the ambition to constantly improve his battle prowess. he’s said it himself that who wins or loses does not matter, that he’s satisfied with the knowledge he’s gained in his encounters

he was molded into a perfect warrior to save teyvat.

the narwhal might have started with the primordial water but it’s name is as such for a reason. drifting along the stars and consuming suns and planets and galaxies. always hungry, always going for more. it would not have stopped with the primordial sea because it cannot and will never be satisfied

so it needs to be taken down in order to prevent the extinction of teyvat as a whole

so fate crafts a willful warrior with the drive and the strength to fight it for days on end, weakening it bit by bit, and stalling it until the precise moment when the right players can fulfill their own destined roles and finish the job

and now, he’s fulfilled his purpose.

fate has no use for him anymore. the traveler displays this in their apathy after childe is done fighting. they give away his vision easily to someone childe has verbally stressed he does not trust in the slightest. what happens to him next matters little in the eyes of fate

ideal musings: i wonder if childe will be the same when he’s healed up. will his lust for battle remain? after all, it’s purpose has been fulfilled. will his constellation change again? or maybe nothing will change at all and fate has to deal with the reckless and wild warrior they created

[morelikeravenbore]

🦋 Thanks to the cuties who have tagged me in this, I've loved reading everyone's answers!

How many works do you have on AO3? Uhh *checks* — nine. One long fic and a bunch of oneshots.

What's your total AO3 word count? 88k~ but about 76k~ belong to Villain (so far).

What fandoms do you write for? Hogwarts Legacy is the only fandom I write for, and Sebastian is really the only character I care to write about (HAHA sorry everyone else.)

Top five fics by kudos? I don't really pay attention to stats so:

1. How to Make a Villain

And then whatever the next top four are 🙃

Do you respond to comments? I TRY VERY HARD TO but sometimes it takes me a while (spoons/adhd-brain/burn-out etc). Like any writer, comments give me LIFE, but something I wasn't expecting to struggle with is the feeling that I don't really deserve them. Who knew writing fic would be a lesson in accepting kindness lol

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Welp the only fics I've finished so far are my oneshots, and they all end with orgasms or romance so... 

What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Here Comes The Sun: a cute little Sebaura proposal oneshot hehe 💍🌞

Do you get hate on fics? Not openly, lol. I do love it when people get mad about what my characters do though so pls don't hold back from yelling at them if the urge ever strikes you. 🍿🍿🍿

Do you write smut? I dabble every now and then, but to be honest it's not my favourite thing to write. Before writing for HL, I'd never written a sex scene in my life and I wanted to give it a go to challenge myself. Lately though, I haven't really had any smutty motivation. I'm definitely a romantic at heart and I LOVE writing about the playful side of romance: young love, cute banter, silliness, teasing, etc. Also bickering. Nom nom nom gimme all da arguments.

Craziest crossover? You and me bb :lip_bite:

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nope! Does this really happen? Like, someone copies and pastes a whole-ass fic and calls it their own? 🧿🧿🧿

Have you ever had a fic translated? I've had requests to translate Villain into Russian, Polish and French, but I'd like to complete the story first.

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Does contributing crack fic ideas counts? Because 👀 yeah all the time lol 

All time favorite ship? Uhhh Sebastian and Aurélie HAHA. Otherwise, it's Allie and Noah foreverrrrr. (The movie version though, I've never actually read the book.)

💙 Honourable mentions go to Anne and Gilbert, and Emma and Mr Knightly. Dishonourable mention to Harry and Ginny, eurgh. 

What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I only have enough spoons to write one long fic at a time, and I fully intend to finish Villain even if it kills me.

What are your writing strengths? Personally, I think my writers voice sounds distinctly me, which I'm very proud of.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language? OOH this is a great question since Aurélie is fluent in French and I don't speak a bloody word. Generally speaking, I prefer to write it like: 'I can't speak a word of French,' she said in French. 

Sometimes I'll use French if the meaning is clear to someone who doesn't speak the language, or if I can give strong enough context clues, ie:

'How nice,' Aurélie said eventually, her accent thick with French indignation. 'I can see you're both very passionnés about Quidditch.'

Sebastian froze, sensing danger.

'Uh — Passionate?'

'Oui. I did not realise you had to undress yourself to discuss tactique.' 

Or if the POV character can accurately guess the meaning, like this:

'You don't have giant spiders in France then, I take it?'

'Non pas du tout!'

He didn't need to know French to translate that as a vehement no. 

But I try to avoid using the actual written language as much as possible because nothing kills immersion faster than trying to read dialogue you can't understand.

Also I frequently annoy my French friends for translations because uhh if I used Google Translate they'd probably guillotine me hehe.

First fandom you wrote in? This one.

Favorite fic you've written? How to Make a Villain is absolutely my greatest writing achievement ever hahaha. But aside from that, I'm really proud of Noctilucent because my goal was to write something suggestive without making it smutty and I was quite pleased with the outcome.

🦋 np tags for my writer babes and anyone else who wants to join in: @galaxiasgreen @lyworth @sloanesallow @sunsetplums @gingerlegacy07

[hannahssimblr]

For Simblr Gratitude Day!

This year, 2023 has been a really really amazing year for me creatively. I wrote over 270K words, I started and finished both parts 2 and 3 of Lucky Girl and I started Lucky Boy! When I began writing last year I really didn't see myself at this point, having written so much, having improved so much, and most importantly, having falling completely head over heels for this amazing community

Without the support and amazing feedback from so many people I would have quit a long time ago, but coming here and talking to you guys and being so incredibly inspired by other work is what really pushed me past the finish line. I want to express my gratitude for every single person who engaged with me this year, for those who liked and commented and shared and left me questions and anon asks, and even those who didn't, and just read along in silence - I see you there! You can't hide! Thank you so much.

This graph only shows my top 10, but I reached over 50 countries this year! that's pure mad.

You can see that it's the Americans and the British who really came through for me, and I'm sorry for poking gentle fun at you in my story - I know you are more than semi-automatic machine guns, UFOs & undesirable tourists, you know how it is, we're like the ignored middle child between you two and I'd be going against my cultural heritage if I didn't act up a little bit.

Most importantly I want to thank specific people today! Starting with @armoricaroyalty for making this day happen, and @daniigh0ul for coming up with the idea. I'm really excited to get to know you both much better in the new year & finally find the time to start reading your stuff - I've heard only good things.

to @sirianasims for poking me to join the writers group that has now absolutely swallowed up my free time (in a good way lmao) and for being hilarious and fun and just generally a gorgeous, open and supportive person. I've been reading Siri's story lately and I INSIST you check it out - I'm on gen 3 and completely obsessed by the thought that goes into this, the complexity of the relationships and really sensitive exploration of difficult material.

to @lynzishell for always being so positive and engaged, always taking the time to leave thoughtful comments and get genuinely excited over everyone's work! I'm DUG INTO her legacy, which is still on gen 1 and it makes my day better every single time I see an update from her - and I'm not even just saying that to be nice. It's an honest to god thrill for me to get to read about her characters. I'm beyond excited for what she's going to do in the new year

@mannylikessims deserves a shout out too for writing some of the best and funniest simlit I've had the pleasure of reading in a long time. Those Villarreal kids (and Jacques, obviously) have me on the edge of my seat. I feel insatiable for this story, like, give me more, all of the time. Just shovel it into my mouth. Manny has also brought me to literal tears with her comments. It's rare enough that you meet a reader that seems to truly understand what you're trying to say in your work - like, right to the heart of it, and Manny is one of those people.

I've just recently started reading @rebouks Somnium and Forever In Between (Don't do what I did if you haven't read yet - start with Somnium) and when I say I am HOOKED I mean it. The visuals alone are enough to make me want to burst into tears with the knowledge that I will never wrangle something so beautiful from the game, but you know what, that's okay, because I can come here and sob over Becca's work instead. I'm not even halfway through and I'm already bowled over by the character development, the dialogue, the humour, everything. The only thing I wish is that I had unlimited free time and 0 commitments so I could absolutely consume this work in one sitting, but I guess savoring it is good too.. Thank you Becca for pure inspiration <3

@pixelnrd for The Langston Legacy, a decades challenge which was actually the first sims 4 legacy I ever read - I stumbled across it on my very first day on simblr and I've loved loved loved it every since. The visuals are gorgeous, the story lines are always engaging, and just about every topic under the sun has been covered now. The dedication to accuracy is really admirable, and now that we've reached the 80s I'm genuinely beginning to feel nostalgic. I always find myself wanting more. I'm so much looking forward to the 90s! (And I can't believe you've made it this far, that's an achievement and a half)

Other storytellers and creators I want to shout out are @simstrashkingdom, @bakersimmer @simmysunset @igglemouse @simsstuph - You guys have created some really great stories this year, and I so long forward to reading more!

To @nexility-sims for creating our wonderful writing group (and for pairing with me) I'm dying to start reading your work properly, because even the small bits I've read have been so beautiful.

And to everyone else in the writing group! I know I have so many stories to catch up on, and I'm very intimidated by that fact, but I know that it means that 2024 holds a lot of exciting times! I want to learn from you all and be inspired and support you, so this is the year I'm going to do it <3