New love oc story-Mevixtales
This is my new major story that I want to know if you guys would be interested over my other stuff or not! Also I will be mainly posting it on my askblog and ask blogs along with asking the actual ocs too if you say their names or who the ask is to. If you say nothing and just nothing I'll answer!
Here's the story! 👇
What This Story Is Mevixtales is a dark, devoted romance about two girls who spend their entire lives building identities around each other without either one fully realizing it. “Mevix” is the romance/shipping name for Mevil and Conix. And I added it to “tales” like my other “tales” titles. But I think this is my best one yet.
One is an alien named Mevil who crash-landed on Earth, raised by a kind old woman, desperately trying to become a superhero because she has decided — with her whole heart — that good people use their power to protect. The other is a deeply intelligent, emotionally repressed human girl who figured out what the first one really was when they were both five years old, and has been quietly running her life ever since.
The alien becomes the hero. The human becomes the villain. Neither of them is doing what the other thinks they're doing.
To the public, they are legendary arch-enemies. To anyone paying attention, they are two people who have made each other the center of their universe and will not survive the day they have to admit it.
— — —
The Two of Them Mevil — The Alien Hero Mevil does not come from anywhere with a name she knows. She comes from an egg.
Her species travels the universe in eggs designed to adapt — hyper-predator organisms that imprint on whatever environment finds them first and become whatever that environment requires to survive. They are not born people. They are born with potential. Dangerous, instinct-driven, blank-slate potential. She was apart of an experimental batch and she was the lucky one who got evacuated into earth.
The first thing that finds Mevil's egg is a wild bunny. So she hatches wrong — part animal, part predator, part child-shaped creature that stalks and flinches at the same time and copies behavior without understanding any of it. She is not evil. She is not good. She is simply an instinct machine wearing the rough shape of something small.
Then an old woman with terrible eyesight finds her, decides she is an ugly bunny, and takes her home. She loves her immediately, completely, and without conditions — before Mevil has done a single thing to earn it.
This is the most important moment in Mevil's entire life. Not because it's dramatic. Because it isn't. It's just an old woman deciding a strange creature deserves warmth, and that act of unconditional love becomes the foundation everything else is built on. Mevil learns behaviors before she learns morality. She learns affection before she learns identity. She is assembling a self from observed pieces, held together by love she did not ask for and does not yet fully understand.
When she discovers superheroes, everything clicks into place. Strong people protect others. Heroes are loved. Heroes are good. Power does not have to make you a monster — it can make you something people believe in. She decides, with the full sincerity of someone who does not do anything halfway, that she will be a hero.
The important thing about Mevil is that she is not naturally good. She chooses goodness because she idolizes it. That makes her morality something she has to actively maintain and protect — not instinct, but commitment. Beautiful and fragile in the specific way that only chosen things can be.
Her emotional journey over the course of the story moves from 'I want to be a hero because heroes are wonderful' to 'I want to protect the person who taught me how to be human' to something she doesn't have words for yet, something that lives below language, in the part of her that is still very much an apex predator trying to figure out what it means to need someone.
Conix — The Human Villain Conix is already strange before Mevil arrives. She is the kind of child who watches more than she speaks, who catalogs the world with unsettling patience, who is intelligent in the specific way that tends to make adults uncomfortable rather than proud. She is not cruel. She is not warm. She is precise.
When Mevil shows up at preschool, the other children think she is weird. Conix takes one look at her and understands immediately: that is not a human child. Not strange. Not different. Not a child. Something else, wearing the performance of a child, operating on instinct, trying.
Most people would have been afraid. Conix becomes fascinated.
The moment that seals it comes when Mevil snaps — some stimulus crosses her threat threshold and suddenly she is not performing humanity anymore, she is just reacting, and the reaction is terrifying. Adults intervene. Mevil gets punished without fully understanding why she is in trouble. Later, Conix finds her crying alone.
And in that moment, Conix understands two things at once that should cancel each other out and don't: Mevil is genuinely dangerous, and Mevil is mentally innocent. She is capable of catastrophic violence and doesn't understand what violence means. She is an apex predator trying desperately to mimic a child, and she is crying about it.
This breaks something open in Conix that was probably always going to break. Not healthy empathy — the obsessive kind. The kind that whispers: humanity will ruin her unless someone manages this. It should be me.
So Conix appoints herself, without ceremony and without telling anyone, as Mevil's protector, interpreter, guide, and curator. She teaches her what reactions are normal. She helps her hide the parts of herself that make people recoil. She explains humanity like a patient translator working between two completely different operating systems. She makes herself indispensable without making herself visible.
Her love language, from the beginning, is control. She expresses devotion through surveillance, orchestration, quietly shaping outcomes before the person she loves ever notices danger exists. She does not simply care for Mevil. She constructs the environment around her. This is the deepest flaw installed at the foundation of their relationship, and neither of them sees it for a very long time.
When Mevil discovers the alien ship that brought her to Earth and falls in love with the idea of being a superhero, Conix has already been studying that ship in secret for years. She understands what Mevil is, what Mevil's species is, and what the world would do with that information if it ever came out. Public love is conditional. Governments exploit what they fear. And without a controlled narrative, Mevil's dream dies.
Conix considers becoming her sidekick. Her partner. The person who helps from beside her.
Then she thinks it all the way through, and reaches the conclusion that will define the rest of her life: if someone else becomes Mevil's villain, there are no guarantees. So Conix decides, with the cold and absolute logic of someone who has never done anything by half measures, that she will do it herself.
She builds a supervillain persona. And then she builds a world.
— — —
The Relationship To the public, Conix and Mevil are legendary enemies — the devoted hero and her brilliant, obsessive nemesis. To Conix, this is basically an elaborate love letter written across the architecture of an entire city.
Conix engineers everything. She manipulates public perception, criminal organizations, media narratives, staged disasters, rival villains. She essentially authors a comic-book reality around Mevil — a living genre fiction calibrated to give her purpose, heroic validation, emotional fulfillment, and an idealized version of humanity worth fighting for. Every battle is designed to be winnable. Every villain is designed to lose. Every triumph Mevil experiences is a piece of a performance built entirely around her continued happiness.
Mevil thinks she became a hero naturally. She didn't. Conix built the world where 'hero' could exist for her at all.
Meanwhile, Mevil initially hates her — because Conix attacks the city and causes chaos and always targets her specifically. But over time, she notices things she cannot explain. Conix never truly hurts civilians. She always seems specifically prepared for Mevil rather than generically villainous. She understands Mevil in ways that shouldn't be possible from the outside. And despite being physically fragile, she approaches Mevil fearlessly, again and again, which from a predator's perspective reads as either profound stupidity or absolute trust. For someone like Mevil, the latter is intoxicating in ways she doesn't have words for yet.
The structural contradiction at the center of them is this: Mevil is physically unstoppable but emotionally dependent. Conix is physically fragile but psychologically in total control. One of them could level a building. The other has quietly reshaped the entire course of the first one's life. They are making each other better and worse simultaneously — Conix preserves Mevil's compassion and keeps her predator instincts from hollowing out her idealism. Mevil gives Conix purpose and emotional intensity and meaning, because Conix is a deeply repressed person whose extraordinary capacity for obsessive devotion has, until now, had nowhere to go.
Together, they become increasingly incapable of functioning normally without each other. Everyone around them can see it. Neither of them will say it.
— — —
The Turning Point The story shifts when the city turns against its hero.
It doesn't matter exactly how — collateral damage, political manipulation, a setup. What matters is that for the first time, Mevil experiences public rejection not as a fear but as a fact. The approval she built her entire identity around vanishes almost overnight. Her morality was never instinct — it was a choice, made because goodness seemed worth choosing, because humanity loved her back. If people will fear her anyway, then what was the point of trying so hard to become human?
At her lowest moment, Conix finds her. Not as the grand villain. Almost intimately. Because underneath everything, Conix has always been the person who shows up when Mevil is falling apart — that is the role she assigned herself at preschool and never resigned from.
And then Mevil, overwhelmed and not in control of her own force, accidentally injures her. Not from cruelty — from pain bleeding into action, alien strength meeting human fragility without the careful buffer she normally maintains. Conix gets seriously hurt.
This stops everything.
Because Mevil has always known, intellectually, that humans are fragile. She has never felt it before. And she feels it now with every part of herself that is still a predator — the part that understands breakable things, the part that knows the difference between something that can withstand her and something that cannot. Conix cannot. Conix could die. And the realization that she does not want Conix to die arrives not as a thought but as something closer to terror, closer to the bone than anything she has felt before.
For Conix, being held carefully by the creature she has dedicated her entire life to protecting — having Mevil panic over her, see her fragility, finally perceive her as something that could be lost — is the most emotionally significant moment of her existence. Mevil touched her. Mevil cared. Mevil was afraid.
Conix says: 'Sorry about this. Let me fix it.'
And she does. She pulls every lever she has spent years installing in secret, manipulates the city and the media and the systems, and restores Mevil's image. Makes humanity love their hero again. Because that is what she has always done. That is what she built herself to do.
And that is the moment Mevil finally understands what she has been living inside.
The world's love is conditional. It vanished overnight and it can be manufactured back. But Conix's devotion is not like that. It is a fixed point. Absolute. Unconditional. This person can reshape the entire world for her. And the understanding of that — not just the fact of it, but the weight of it, the enormity of what Conix has quietly chosen, again and again, without being asked — is the moment the obsession becomes mutual.
From here, there is no going back for either of them.
— — —
What It’s Really About Conix x Mevil is a story about four things, all tangled together.
It is about manufactured identity — the question of whether a self built inside someone else's architecture is still genuinely yours. Mevil chose heroism freely. But the conditions that made heroism possible were engineered. Does that make her less real? The story doesn't answer cleanly, because there isn't a clean answer.
It is about love as control — the specific kind of devotion that expresses itself through surveillance and orchestration and quietly shaping outcomes, that builds environments around the beloved rather than simply existing beside them. Conix is not villainous because she is cruel. She is terrifying because she is utterly sincere.
It is about humanity as performance — the fact that Mevil learned to be human by imitation, from someone who is herself deeply abnormal, inside a world that was constructed. Her understanding of love, of morality, of what it means to be good, is filtered entirely through Conix's particular warped lens, and neither of them will realize this until it is far too late to matter.
And it is about what happens when two damaged people become the gravitational center of each other's universe so completely that the universe outside each other stops being fully real.
By the end, what exists between Conix and Mevil is not heroism or villainy. It is not even rivalry. It is devotion — the kind that consumes identities and rewrites morality and does not leave room for normal life.
Which is a serious problem.
Because one of them is a hyper-adaptive alien organism of unknown lifespan. Possibly immortal. Definitely not subject to the biological countdown that governs every human life.
And the other one is a normal human being who dedicated everything she had to a creature that might outlive the sun.
Conix built a world to keep Mevil's dream alive. Loved her with the kind of absolute devotion that rewrites reality.
And Mevil is beginning, slowly and irreversibly, to understand that she needs this woman more than oxygen.
The math has never worked. It still doesn't. Neither of them is ready to look at it yet.
I want to know if you guys like this and your thoughts. Also asks would be nice if you had any for me or my ocs!
