𝐴 𝐿𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑐𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝐿𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡
𝐴 𝐿𝑒𝑔𝑎𝑐𝑦 𝑜𝑓 𝐿𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡
A/N: Here she is, the final part to the ‘I Love You, I’m Sorry’ series. As sad as I am to let this series go (since it helped me grow so much on here) I’m excited to write many more stories for all my lovelies to enjoy. So without further ado I present to you: A Legacy of Light.
Word Count: 4.6k
TW: Nothing major, reader does get sad remembering Vi but that’s about it!
Reader is a female!
Remember to hydrate and eat plenty of food. You are loved! ❤️
The decision to leave Piltover and Zaun had been brewing for months, but it was only on the coldest, quietest night of the year that you finally acted on it. The city of Piltover was never truly silent, yet in those final moments, as you packed the last of your belongings into a weathered suitcase, the world felt muffled—as if the city itself understood the gravity of your departure.
You didn’t look back as you walked through the cobbled streets, the towering spires and glimmering lights fading behind you. Vi’s voice, Caitlyn’s sharp gaze, the smoky air of Zaun’s undercity—they all blurred together into a single chapter of your life that you were now determined to close. You needed a fresh start, a place untainted by memories of what could have been.
Demacia became that beacon of possibility. You’d heard tales of its golden fields, unyielding laws, and steadfast people. It was a city that promised order, safety, and clarity—everything your life had lacked since you had met her.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
The journey to Demacia was long and grueling. The air grew crisper with each passing mile, the lush forests and rolling hills standing in stark contrast to the industrial sprawl you’d left behind. As your carriage creaked along the winding road, you stared out the window, trying to imagine what awaited you. Would it be a new life? A second chance? Or just another city with its own brand of heartbreak?
The driver—a grizzled man who had introduced himself as Loryn—occasionally glanced back at you, his weathered face marked by curiosity. “First time heading to Demacia?” he asked, his tone warm but cautious.
You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak just yet. Loryn took your silence in stride, continuing his story without prompting. “It’s a good place, you know. Not perfect, but no place is. They’ve got rules for everything, though. Some folks don’t like that, but me? I think rules keep us honest.”
Rules. Honesty. Those words hung heavy in your mind. Piltover had its own rules, but they had been written to favor those at the top. Zaun, on the other hand, thrived in chaos. Could Demacia truly be different?
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
By the time you arrived at the city gates, the sun was beginning to set, casting a golden glow over the white stone walls that towered above you. Guards clad in silver armor stood at attention, their faces stern but not unkind. The emblem of a soaring eagle—the symbol of Demacia—was etched into their chest plates, a reminder of the city’s values: justice, loyalty, and strength.
“State your business,” one of the guards said as Loryn brought the carriage to a halt.
You hesitated, your words catching in your throat. What was your business here? To start over? To forget? To find something—or someone—that made sense of the mess you’d left behind?
“I… I’m looking for a new home,” you finally said, your voice steady despite the tumult inside.
The guard studied you for a moment, then nodded. “Welcome to Demacia. Obey the laws, and you’ll find what you’re looking for.”
With that, the gates creaked open, revealing the city beyond. Your breath caught as you took in the sight: wide streets paved with pristine stone, towering buildings of marble and glass, and people moving with purpose and poise. Children laughed as they chased one another through the plazas, and merchants called out cheerfully to passersby. For a moment, it felt as though you’d stepped into a dream.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
Your first days in Demacia were a blur of new sights and sensations. You rented a modest room above a bakery, the scent of freshly baked bread wafting through your window each morning. The city was both familiar and alien, its structure orderly yet alive with an undercurrent of quiet determination. People here spoke with a kind of confidence you hadn’t heard in Piltover or Zaun—not the sharp-edged ambition of the former or the desperate defiance of the latter, but something steady, grounded.
It didn’t take long for you to notice how different you felt here. In Piltover, you’d always been one step behind, trying to navigate its shifting alliances and hidden agendas. In Zaun, you’d been swallowed by its chaos, struggling to hold onto any semblance of stability. But in Demacia, there was a clarity that had eluded you for so long. Here, people followed rules not out of fear, but out of respect for the order those rules provided.
Still, the adjustment wasn’t easy. You found yourself haunted by memories of Vi, her laughter echoing in your mind when the nights grew too quiet. You’d catch glimpses of pink hair in a crowded market or hear a voice that sounded just like hers, and for a fleeting moment, hope would flare in your chest before reality doused it once more.
“Let her go,” you whispered to yourself one night as you sat by the window, watching the city lights twinkle like stars. But the words felt hollow, a mantra you repeated without truly believing.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
It was a chance encounter that began to shift things for you. One afternoon, as you wandered through a bustling market square, a young woman with golden hair and piercing blue eyes nearly collided with you, her arms full of books.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” she exclaimed, quickly kneeling to gather the scattered volumes.
“It’s fine,” you said, bending down to help her. As you handed her a particularly heavy tome, your eyes met, and something about her gaze struck you. It was warm, but there was a spark of curiosity there, as if she saw something in you that you didn’t yet see in yourself.
“You’re not from around here, are you?” she asked, her tone more intrigued than accusatory.
You shook your head. “Just arrived a few days ago. Still finding my way.”
She smiled, and it was like sunlight breaking through the clouds. “Welcome, then. I’m Luxanna Crownguard.”
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
Luxanna became your first true friend in Demacia. As a member of the prominent Crownguard family, she carried herself with a grace that seemed almost otherworldly. Yet beneath her polished exterior was a kindness and curiosity that put you at ease. She listened without judgment as you recounted pieces of your past, and she shared stories of her own—a mix of duty and rebellion, of light and shadow.
“I know what it’s like to feel out of place,” she admitted one evening as the two of you sat by a fountain in the city square. “Demacia can be… rigid. But it can also be beautiful, if you know where to look.”
You nodded, though you weren’t sure you’d found that beauty just yet.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
As the weeks turned into months, Luxanna became your guide, both to the city and to yourself. She introduced you to the subtle intricacies of Demacian life—the unspoken rules that governed its people, the moments of joy hidden between its rigid laws. With her help, you began to navigate this new world, not as an outsider but as someone who belonged.
Lux had a way of finding light even in the darkest corners. One day, she took you to a meadow just outside the city, where wildflowers swayed in the breeze and the golden sunlight bathed everything in warmth.
“This is my favorite place,” she said, her voice soft but sure. “When the world feels too heavy, I come here. It reminds me that no matter how much we try to control everything, life has a way of growing wild and free.”
You looked at her then, truly looked at her, and saw the duality she carried. On the surface, she was every inch the perfect Demacian noble—poised, disciplined, a paragon of light. But beneath that, there was a spark of defiance, a yearning for something more.
“Thank you,” you said, the words heavy with meaning. For the first time, you felt as though you’d found a kindred spirit—someone who understood the weight of expectations and the courage it took to defy them.
Lux smiled, her golden hair catching the sunlight. “For what?”
“For being you.”
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
Your life in Demacia began to take shape. By day, you continued your work as a scribe in the city’s archives, your hands stained with ink as you meticulously cataloged the history of a land you were just beginning to understand. By night, you found yourself drawn into Lux’s orbit, whether it was quiet conversations by the fountain or spirited debates about the world beyond Demacia’s walls.
Lux’s curiosity was infectious. She asked questions that forced you to think, to confront the pieces of yourself you’d tried to leave behind. And slowly, you began to share more—not just about Piltover and Zaun, but about Vi and the life you’d built together. The pain was still there, but it no longer consumed you. Instead, it became a part of the story you were telling, a thread woven into the tapestry of who you were.
“I think Vi would’ve liked you,” you said one evening as the two of you walked along the city’s outer wall, the stars shimmering overhead. “She had this… fire about her. She made you believe anything was possible.”
Lux tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. “She sounds incredible. But you know, you don’t have to let go of her to move forward. The people we’ve loved—they shape us. They stay with us in ways we don’t always realize.”
Her words stayed with you long after you parted ways that night. For the first time, you began to see your past not as a burden but as a foundation—something to build upon rather than escape from.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
One day, while sorting through the archives, you stumbled upon a collection of old journals belonging to a Demacian explorer who had ventured beyond the city’s borders centuries ago. The journals were filled with sketches of far-off lands, detailed maps, and reflections on the world outside Demacia’s walls.
You found yourself captivated by the explorer’s words, their yearning for discovery mirroring your own. Inspired, you began to sketch out your own map—not of geography, but of your journey. You drew Piltover’s towering spires, Zaun’s labyrinthine undercity, and Demacia’s golden fields. Each place was a chapter, a marker of where you’d been and where you were headed.
When Lux saw the map, her eyes lit up. “This is incredible,” she said, tracing her fingers over the lines. “You’re telling a story—not just with words, but with places.”
“It’s not finished yet,” you said, suddenly self-conscious.
“Neither are you,” she replied with a smile. “And that’s the beauty of it.”
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
As the seasons changed, so did your bond with Lux. What had started as friendship deepened into something more—an unspoken connection that defied words. There were moments when her hand would brush yours, or her laughter would fill the air, and you’d feel a warmth that had nothing to do with the sun.
But there was also a hesitance, a fear of what it might mean to let someone in again. You’d been burned before, and the scars were still fresh. Lux seemed to sense this, never pushing, always giving you the space to heal at your own pace.
One evening, as you sat together on the steps of the palace courtyard, she turned to you, her blue eyes searching. “Do you ever think about what’s next? Where your journey will take you?”
You hesitated, the question both simple and profound. “I don’t know. For so long, I was running—from Piltover, from Zaun, from myself. But now… I think I’m ready to stop running.”
Lux smiled, her expression equal parts relief and joy. “Then maybe it’s time to start building.”
Building wasn’t easy, but it was worth it. You began to take more risks, to push yourself beyond the safety of routine. You joined Lux in her efforts to bridge the gaps within Demacia, helping her bring stories and music to the people. Together, you found ways to celebrate the diversity of the city, to show its people that unity didn’t have to mean uniformity.
There were challenges, of course. Demacia’s laws were strict, and not everyone appreciated Lux’s unconventional approach. But she faced each obstacle with a quiet strength that inspired you. And when doubts crept in, you reminded her of her own words: “You’re not finished yet.”
Neither were you.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
The first time you kissed Lux, it was beneath the same stars you’d gazed at so many nights before. The city lay quiet around you, the air crisp with the promise of winter. It wasn’t planned or dramatic—just a simple moment of connection, a spark that had been waiting to ignite.
As your lips parted, she rested her forehead against yours, her voice barely above a whisper. “I was starting to wonder if you’d ever stop running.”
You smiled, the weight of the past finally lifting. “I think I’ve found what I was looking for.”
In the end, your journey wasn’t about leaving Piltover or finding Demacia. It was about finding yourself—about realizing that the person you’d been searching for had been there all along. With Lux by your side, you began to dream again, to imagine a future full of possibility and light.
And for the first time in a long while, you weren’t afraid of what came next.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
The kiss lingered in your mind, replaying in fragments that felt like they were etched into the very fabric of your soul. Lux had a way of making the simplest moments monumental. Her golden hair shimmered in the starlight that night, and the warmth of her hand in yours was more grounding than any words could be. That single moment marked a turning point in your life, a quiet affirmation that you were no longer just surviving but finally living.
But life, even in the golden city of Demacia, was never without its complications.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
Lux’s life was a web of obligations, expectations, and secrets, and being close to her meant brushing up against them. As a Crownguard, she was a prominent figure in Demacia, the face of a family that embodied its ideals of strength and loyalty. Yet behind closed doors, she wrestled with her own conflicts. She was not just Luxanna Crownguard, Demacia’s light—she was a young woman with dreams, doubts, and a secret that could shatter the foundation of her carefully crafted image: her magic.
Demacia’s strict laws against magic were no secret. The very idea of wielding it was an affront to everything the city stood for. And yet, Lux’s magic wasn’t something she chose—it was part of her, as intrinsic as her light-filled smile or her unyielding spirit. She confided in you one night, her voice trembling as she spoke of the fear that shadowed her every step.
“I’ve spent so much of my life hiding,” she said, her hands clasped tightly together. “Hiding from my family, from the city, from myself. Sometimes I wonder if they would still see me as Luxanna Crownguard if they knew the truth.”
You reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “You are so much more than their expectations, Lux. Your magic doesn’t define you—it’s just one part of the incredible person you are.”
She looked at you then, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “I’m scared,” she admitted. “Scared of what happens if I stop hiding.”
“Then let me stand with you,” you said, your voice steady. “Whatever comes, we’ll face it together.”
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
Those words weren’t just a promise—they were a vow. Together, you and Lux began to navigate the uncharted territory of honesty, trust, and defiance. You helped her find moments of quiet solace where she could practice her magic without fear, away from the watchful eyes of the city. In those hidden spaces, she seemed freer, more herself. Light would dance at her fingertips, weaving patterns in the air that took your breath away.
“I’ve never shown anyone this before,” she said one evening as a delicate aurora shimmered between her hands. “Not even my brother.”
“Why now?” you asked, mesmerized by the display.
She hesitated for a moment before answering. “Because with you, I feel safe.”
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
As Lux grew more comfortable embracing her true self, you found your own courage growing in tandem. You began to step out of the shadows of your past, sharing your story not just with her but with others in the city. Your work in the archives became more than a job—it became a mission. You unearthed stories of those who had faced challenges like yours, people who had dared to challenge the status quo, who had forged new paths despite the odds.
You shared these stories with Lux, and together, you began to weave them into something bigger: a vision of a Demacia that could embrace its complexities rather than fearing them. It was a vision that sparked conversations in quiet corners and gatherings, a ripple that began to spread through the city.
But change was never easy, and resistance was inevitable.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
There were those in Demacia who clung fiercely to its traditions, who saw any deviation from the norm as a threat to the city’s stability. Whispers began to circulate—about Lux’s growing influence, about the questions she was encouraging people to ask. Some even began to suspect the truth about her magic, though no one dared voice it openly.
One day, as you walked through the market, you overheard a group of merchants discussing her.
“She’s too idealistic,” one man said, his tone dismissive. “Demacia doesn’t need change—it needs strength.”
“Strength without compassion is just tyranny,” you found yourself saying, the words escaping before you could think better of it.
The man turned to you, his expression incredulous. “And who are you to speak of strength? You’re not even one of us.”
The words stung, but you held your ground. “Maybe not,” you admitted. “But I’ve seen what happens when a city refuses to grow, when it clings so tightly to its rules that it forgets the people those rules are meant to serve. Demacia can be better than that. It *is* better than that.”
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
Lux was waiting for you when you returned home that evening, her expression a mix of concern and admiration.
“You’re brave, you know that?” she said, her voice soft.
“Or foolish,” you replied with a small smile. “But I couldn’t just stand there and say nothing.”
She stepped closer, her hands brushing yours. “It’s not foolish to stand up for what you believe in. It’s what makes you… you.”
Her words stayed with you, a reminder that courage wasn’t the absence of fear but the choice to act despite it. Together, you and Lux continued to push forward, even as the obstacles grew. You began to dream of a future where Demacia could be a place not just of order and strength, but of understanding and unity.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
That future felt closer than ever one evening as you stood with Lux in the meadow she loved so much. The stars stretched endlessly above you, their light mirrored in her eyes. She took your hands in hers, her expression filled with both determination and vulnerability.
“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I do know this: I want you by my side. No matter what comes, I want us to face it together.”
You nodded, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and resolve. “Always.”
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
As the days turned into weeks, the challenges ahead remained daunting, but you faced them with a newfound sense of purpose. Lux’s magic, your past, Demacia’s future—they were all threads in a tapestry that was still being woven. And while the path ahead was uncertain, one thing was clear: you were no longer running.
In Lux’s light, you had found your own. And together, you were ready to illuminate a world that was far from perfect but brimming with possibility.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
The years passed in a blur of joy, challenges, and triumphs. The Demacia you and Lux had envisioned together slowly began to take shape. It wasn’t easy—progress never was—but step by step, the city began to grow into a place where differences could coexist, where strength was balanced with compassion, and where secrets were no longer met with fear but with understanding.
Your journey with Lux wasn’t without its struggles. There were moments when the weight of expectations and the enormity of your shared dream felt overwhelming. But through it all, Lux remained your anchor, her light guiding you forward even in the darkest of times. And you, in turn, became her safe haven, the person who reminded her that she was loved for who she was, not for what she represented.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
The day you and Lux married was one of the brightest in Demacia’s history—not just because of the occasion, but because it felt like a celebration of everything you’d both fought for. The ceremony was held in a sunlit meadow outside the city, surrounded by friends, family, and the golden fields that Lux loved so much.
She looked radiant as she walked toward you, her golden hair catching the sunlight and her blue eyes filled with a mixture of joy and determination. Her dress was simple yet elegant, adorned with subtle designs reminiscent of stars and light. She carried a bouquet of wildflowers, their vibrant colors a reflection of her spirit.
As you exchanged vows, the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you. Lux’s voice trembled with emotion as she spoke.
“You’ve shown me what it means to be truly free—to live without fear, to love without hesitation. With you, I’ve found not just a partner but a home. Today, I promise to stand by your side, no matter what comes, and to love you with all that I am.”
When it was your turn, you struggled to hold back tears. “Lux, you’ve brought light to every corner of my life. With you, I’ve found a purpose, a future, and a love I never thought possible. I promise to honor your light, to walk with you in every shadow, and to build a life with you that shines brighter than the stars.”
As you sealed your vows with a kiss, the crowd erupted into cheers, and Lux’s radiant smile was all you could see. For the first time in years, the future felt not just possible but beautiful.
⊹₊⋆☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆☁︎⋆₊ ⊹
The years that followed were filled with moments both big and small—moments that shaped your family, your future, and the world you called home. Lux’s leadership and your steady presence helped guide Demacia through times of change. Together, you built a life filled with laughter, love, and the kind of warmth that made even the hardest days bearable. Your children became the living embodiment of your shared dreams.
The eldest, a girl with Lux’s golden hair and your quiet determination, possessed a mind as sharp as her heart was kind. Her curiosity was boundless, and she often joined you in the archives, lost in books as you had once been. The youngest, a boy with eyes as blue as the summer sky, inherited Lux’s playful spirit and her remarkable ability to bring people together. His laughter echoed through the halls of your home, a sound as bright and comforting as the light you both worked so hard to protect.
As the years passed, your children began to ask questions about their parents’ past. Lux would smile as she shared stories of how you’d met, of how you had helped her find the courage to embrace who she truly was. You added your own tales—of Piltover and Zaun, of hardship and hope, resilience and growth. Together, you taught your children the value of standing up for what they believed in, of forging their own paths, just as you both had.
One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky in hues of gold and pink, you stood with Lux on the balcony of your home. The laughter of your children floated up from the garden below, filling the air with a deep sense of contentment. Lux leaned against you, her hand resting on yours. “Do you ever think about how far we’ve come?” she asked softly.
You smiled, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Every day. And I wouldn’t change a single moment of it.”
Her gaze met yours, her eyes shining with the same light that had captivated you all those years ago. “I never thought I’d have this,” she admitted. “A family. A life where I could be myself. It’s more than I ever dreamed of.”
You kissed her gently, your heart full. “You deserve all of it, Lux. And so much more.”
Time softened the edges of your memories, reshaping them into something distant and bittersweet. The weight of your past—Piltover, Zaun, and Vi—faded like smoke on the wind, no longer a shadow over your present. There was no regret in forgetting, only gratitude for the journey that had brought you here. Vi had once been part of your life, her fierce determination a beacon when you felt lost. But as the years unfolded with Lux, those echoes grew quieter, replaced by the vibrant symphony of your new life.
One afternoon, while sorting through old belongings in the attic, your hand brushed against a small trinket from Piltover—a token Vi had given you long ago. For a moment, you sat with it, turning it over in your hands. The memory it brought felt distant, like a dream from another lifetime. Instead of longing or regret, you felt only a quiet sense of closure. Vi had been a chapter in your story, but she wasn’t its ending.
Lux appeared at the top of the stairs, sunlight catching in her golden hair. “What’s that?” she asked softly.
“Just something from a long time ago,” you replied, setting it back into the box. “It doesn’t mean much anymore.”
She knelt beside you, her hand resting on yours. “Do you want to talk about it?”
You shook your head with a smile. “No. I’ve already left it behind.”
She kissed your cheek, her voice warm. “Come downstairs when you’re ready. The kids are making cookies, and they need your ‘expert’ guidance.”
You laughed as she descended the stairs, her light footsteps echoing in the quiet space. Rising to follow her, you left the remnants of your past where they belonged.
Years later, as you sat by the hearth with your children, you told them stories of adventure, of lessons learned and challenges overcome. Piltover and Zaun became part of those tales—not as wounds, but as distant chapters that had shaped you. Vi’s name never came up—not out of avoidance, but because it no longer needed to.
Your children only knew the life you had built with Lux—a life filled with love, laughter, and light. They saw strength in their mother’s resolve, kindness in your words, and unity in the bond you shared.
On a starry evening, standing hand-in-hand with Lux as your children played in the garden below, you looked at the life you had created. The memories of your past had become whispers, distant sketches in the margins of a story far richer and fuller than you’d ever dreamed. Forgetting hadn’t been an act of loss, but one of growth—a quiet acceptance of the person you had become.
Lux squeezed your hand, her presence steady and familiar. In her light, in the joy of your children’s laughter, you found everything you had ever been searching for. And as the stars above twinkled like tiny beacons of hope, you knew this was only the beginning of a legacy that would shine for generations to come.
𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢! ☀️
𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑎𝑞𝑢𝑎𝑧𝑒𝑟𝑜
More Posts from Merxcywritesthings and Others
Hi 👋, love the previous one. Can u do Vi x Reader, where Vi and Caitlyn were patrolling the streets. Vi wants to go home and spend time with her girlfriend. Then they notice a crash in an alley. Vi and Caitlyn went to see what it was but then they saw a movement but they can’t see, so they use night vision and see a women who is drinking a rat (Like “My Babysitter is a Vampire). Vi was squinting till she slightly notices that person saying “wait is that”. After she said that, Reader turned around and saw Vi and Caitlyn. Her eyes were glowing red and she had blood on her fangs. She hissed a little and that scared Vi and Caitlyn. Vi ranned off while Caitlyn was running behind her. Vi’s heart was beating like crazy and saying, “My freaking girlfriend is a vampire.” Caitlyn told Vi that there had to be an explanation. Then they saw Reader popped in front of them and Vi used Caitlyn as a shield. Reader told them that she can explain because she was nervous. Vi eyes softened and she said okay.
ℭ𝔯𝔦𝔪𝔰𝔬𝔫-𝔗𝔬𝔲𝔠𝔥𝔢𝔡 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢
A/N: I absolutely ADORE any kind of monster!Reader fan fiction (they’re one of my favorites 🫣). I hope you enjoy this little blurb, and thank you for your request!
Word Count: 0.5k
TW: Blood, Death of an Animal.
Reader is a Female!
The night had been long, and Vi was growing restless. She and Caitlyn had been patrolling the dimly lit streets of Piltover for hours, but all Vi wanted was to head home and spend some much-needed time with her girlfriend. The streets were unusually quiet, save for the distant hum of city life, and Vi was moments away from calling it a night when a sudden crash echoed through a nearby alley.
Both enforcers stiffened. Caitlyn’s sharp eyes darted toward the sound, and without hesitation, the two made their way toward the source of the commotion. The alley was shrouded in darkness, shadows twisting and shifting with every flicker of a streetlamp.
As they approached, something moved in the shadows. It was fast—too fast for them to see clearly. Caitlyn adjusted her rifle, switching to night vision mode, and Vi squinted into the darkness, trying to make sense of what they were seeing.
That’s when they spotted her.
A woman stood crouched near the edge of the alley, a struggling rat in her grasp. Vi’s breath hitched as the woman tilted her head back, sharp fangs glinting in the faint light as she bit into the creature. Blood dripped from her mouth, and her eyes gleamed a haunting, otherworldly red.
“What the…” Vi muttered, her heart hammering in her chest.
The woman’s head snapped toward them, sensing their presence. She stepped closer, her movements unnervingly smooth, and her glowing eyes locked onto Vi and Caitlyn. Vi’s breath caught in her throat as recognition dawned.
“Wait… is that…” she whispered, her voice trailing off.
Before she could finish, the woman fully turned to face them, and Vi’s world spun.
It was you.
The glowing red eyes, the blood staining your lips, and the way your sharp fangs glinted in the dim light—it all clicked into place. You hissed softly, the sound low and threatening, and it sent chills down Vi’s spine.
Panic took over.
Vi bolted.
“Vi!” Caitlyn shouted, running after her partner, though her own heart was racing.
Vi’s feet pounded against the cobblestones, her mind a whirlwind of disbelief and fear. My girlfriend is a vampire. My freaking girlfriend is a vampire.
Caitlyn finally caught up, grabbing Vi’s arm to steady her. “Vi, stop! There has to be an explanation for this.”
“An explanation?” Vi shot back, her voice laced with panic. “You saw her! She—she had fangs! She was drinking blood! What part of that needs explaining?”
Before Caitlyn could respond, a blur of motion interrupted them.
You appeared in front of them in an instant, your movements impossibly fast. Both women froze, startled by your sudden arrival. Vi’s instinctive reaction was to shove Caitlyn in front of her like a human shield.
You raised your hands in a placating gesture, your expression nervous. “Wait! Please, let me explain!” you pleaded, your voice trembling slightly.
Vi’s wide eyes softened as she looked at you—her heart torn between fear and familiarity. You were still you, and despite everything she had just witnessed, she could see the same nervous energy in your gaze that she had come to love.
“Okay,” Vi said cautiously, her voice barely above a whisper. “Start talking.”
𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢! ❤️
𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑠-𝑛-𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒
are you planning on making a part two to bound by pain? the first part was so good I loved the concept !!
😉🤫
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I’m just teasing! But thank you! I love y’all’s enthusiasm for this story, I honestly thought it was kind of sloppy and all over the place while I was writing it (😅). I’ve been away for a little bit so I haven’t been around to writing a second part yet! But don’t worry lovelies, we’ll see what fate has in store for our dear reader. :)
Hello everyone,
As Christmas 🎄 approaches, I want to thank everyone who has supported my campaign and helped me get closer to achieving a small but meaningful dream for my family. We are now so close to reaching our goal of $10,500, with only $133 left to go!
This amount will help us cover our basic needs and bring some stability back to our lives after everything we’ve been through.🙏🏻
Christmas is a time for giving and love, and even the smallest contribution now can help us complete this campaign and reach our goal. Thank you to everyone who has stood by us during these tough times.🥺
Wishing you a Merry Christmas filled with peace, love, and joy with your loved ones.✨❤️🎁
https://gofund.me/abbc2759
Vetted by:
@allthecryingdragons @bilal-salah0
@a-shade-of-blue
𝑺𝒆𝒂𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒇 𝑮𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒏𝒈
Hello everyone,
I don’t typically post this kinds of things, but it needs to be known. This family tragically lost their house from the bombing in Gaza. Unfortunately they are still suffering from the devastating loss. They are so close to reaching their gofundme goal of $10,500. If anyone could help donate to their cause it would mean the absolute world to not only me but his family as well. It doesn’t have to be much, and if you cannot donate please share!
Thank you guys,
—Merxcy ❤️
Ghost: Luv, hurry up, we're gonna be late Y/N, coming out of the dressing room: How do I look? Ghost: Ghost, unbuttoning his shirt: Oh we're definitely going to be late
Please send more requests?
Hi, lovelies! 💖
My department is going on a work trip next month, so I won’t be able to write during that time. I usually receive about one request per day, but lately, it’s been slow—none in the past two days. To keep the queue flowing and possibly start posting twice a day before the trip, I’d love it if you could send in more requests! 💖
Feel free to send multiple requests! If I don’t get enough, I’ll fill it with my own ideas, but I’d rather prioritize your requests! Right now, I only have 7 requests queued, which isn’t enough to maintain a steady pace.
I’ll be back on Sunday morning to answer any questions! Thank you so much for your help. 🥰
As a reminder, here’s my fandom list:
Anime
Attack on Titan (Shingeki no Kyojin)
My Hero Academia (Boku no Hero Academia)
Demon Slayer (Kimetsu no Yaiba)
Jujutsu Kaisen
Tokyo Revengers
Naruto / Boruto
One Piece
Haikyuu!!
Chainsaw Man
Spy x Family
Bleach
TV
Supernatural
The Witcher
Stranger Things
The Mandalorian
Sherlock (BBC)
Percy Jackson & the Olympians
BBC Merlin
Doctor Who
Star Trek
Good Omens
Bridgerton
Game of Thrones/House of the Dragon
The Boys
ATLA/Avatar The Last Airbender
Arcane
Criminal Minds
Movies
Harry Potter/Fantastic Beasts
Twilight
The Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU)
The Lord of the Rings/The Hobbit
Star Wars
Video games
The Legend of Zelda
The Last of Us
Resident Evil
Call of Duty
Baldur's Gate
Genshin Impact
Love and Deepspace
Books
Percy Jackson & the Olympians
The Witcher
A Court of Thorns and Roses
Throne of Glass
The Cruel Prince (The Folk of the Air)
Thanks so much for your support—you’re all amazing! 💕
Johnny who became ridiculously jealous of the giant seal plushie that took most of his space on the bed as you cuddled with it to sleep.
So he bought a seal onesie for himself, because of course the most logical solution to compete with the plushie, is to be the plushie
I’m so obsessed with Tara’s writing I might just cry.
what a heavenly way to die || the proxies
‘forever is in your eyes, but forever ain’t half the time’
sum: after being stranded in the middle of a snow storm, you’re forced to take shelter with masky, hoodie, and toby. you need to stay warm, by any means necessary
tw:SMUT, FILTHY, LONG, AGGRESSIVE SMUT, foursome kinda? idk?, sub!reader, soft dom!masky, hard dom!hoodie, sub!toby, gun play, overstimulation, exhibitionism, lowkey throat fucking, praise, humiliation, power dynamics lowkey do be in place
a/n: FOR ALL OF MY OG HITCHHIKER BABIES <3
“But I don’t wanna wear gloves!”
“Toby if you don’t wear gloves, your fingers are gonna fall off.”
Masky’s voice was hoarse, his patience thinning the longer he walked. Not even a fresh cigarette could make this situation any better. Only some shit like this would happen to him.
On the way back from an assignment the car ran out of gas, courtesy of allowing Hoodie to drive for more than five minutes. Now with the tank on E, the four of you were stranded in the middle of no where. Snow fell from the sky, coating each of you more and more by the second. Hoodie seemed perfectly content with his offense, minus the occasional shiver. Toby couldn’t comprehend the need to wear so many layers, the kid practically fighting for the right to freeze to death. Masky found himself silently regretting his choice of a mask, his gaze landing on you.
Normally he discounted your presence, you being the newest member of the group. But he’d be lying to himself if he shrugged you off. Although you had only been around for a few years now, for such a tiny little thing you sure pulled your weight. He never thought much of you at first, your small stature and loud mouth telling him everything he could ever want to know. But over the years of enslavement together you simmered down, sometimes more quiet than Hoodie. Masky could deal with his silence, having been dragged into this shit show by his hand.
But you? He couldn’t handle it.
His dark gaze landed on you, looming over your shaking form like a dark cloud. You always wore skimpy clothing, even if not practical. This happened to be one of those times, your skirt riding up your thighs and knee high socks failing to conceal the goosebumps that littered your skin. “Cold, kid?” Masky asked, ignoring his own shaky fingertips as he took a drag of his cigarette. The four of you had been hiking for what felt like hours, more and more of your limbs becoming numb by the second. “T-Told ya life wasn’t a f-fashion show,” Toby chimed in, clearly enjoying the weather.
“Can it, you ticking time bomb,” Masky interjected, frowning. He noted the way you avoided his gaze, as if you were afraid of judgment. But why? You had never given a shit about his opinion before. He grunted to himself as he shrugged off his signature mustard jacket, forcefully shoving it on your shoulders.
“But you’ll freeze-”
“Put it on and don’t bitch about it.”
His voice was stern and full of authority, threatening you to question it. His mask hid his satisfied expression as he watched you put it on. “Any plans here boss? Or do we plan on camping out here?” Hoodie asked sarcastically. It was in moments like these Masky was thankful the two of them wore mask, his distain written all over his face. “We just need to keep heading south like boss ordered,” Masky huffed, blowing cigarette smoke out into the cold night air. Tensions were arising quickly, the freezing cold fizzling out any trust that had been formed.
“Head south? Are you on crack or delusional? Toby’s fingers are so frost bitten they’re about to snap off and the kid is so fuckin cold i’m surprised she’s able to stand at all,” Hoodie barked, his words laced with venom. Masky didn’t like to go off schedule. He didn’t like to piss off The Operator. If it were him and him alone, he’d continue walking south until he either made it or The Operator himself found him. However, as his eyes raked in the sight of his companions, he realized Hoodie was right.
“Fine, we’ll have a sleepover. Follow me. I saw smoke over this way,” Masky agreed reluctantly, tossing his cigarette bud carelessly onto the ground. Toby began to yap about Masky being a litter bug, earning him a knock upside the head from Hoodie. The silent proxy gritted his teeth, annoyed with Masky neglecting to tend to them sooner.
“You saw signs of civilization and just now told us? How long would you have let us walk before we fuckin froze to death?” Hoodie questioned, his gaze so deadly Masky could feel holes burning into his back. You awkwardly tugged his jacket closer to you, your breath shallow. “He’s k-kinda right, kinda an asshole move,” You said softly, completely exhausted from marching in a borderline snow storm. Masky’s gaze softened for a moment, before noticing Toby had taken off his gloves. “We need to get going before this dipshit loses his fingers,” Masky grumbled, shrugging off the issue at hand. The three of you trailed behind him, satisfaction washing over you as a cabin came into sight.
You weren’t an advocate for death, but you quite literally would’ve killed someone for a warm spot in that cabin. The four of you burst inside, scanning the room for any sign of human life. None of you could deny your eagerness to be warm. A small fire crackled in the background in the fireplace, providing a soft orange glow to the room. Masky gestured Toby to follow him upstairs, leaving you and Hoodie to scope out the remainder of the first floor. “Any guesses on why it’s abandoned like this?” You asked the taller proxy, avoiding his lingering gaze. Hoodie tended to be a bit unsettling sometimes, whether he meant to be or not.
“My guess? Some rich couple cut their honeymoon short and hauled ass once they saw the forecast,” Hoodie said blandly, shrugging off his ski mask. It had been a while since you had seen his face, his stubble grown out more than you could remember. “Good for us then,” You mumbled, averting your eyes. You stared at the ground so much you tended to forget what your fellow proxies faces looked like. Footsteps trampling down the stairs regained your attention, your head snapping in the direction. “Good news, place is ours. Bad news, the only heat source is that lovely fireplace right there,” Masky said, sitting down in front of the small couch. The three of you followed his lead, crowding around the tiny fireplace.
“This is your grand plan?” Hoodie questioned, his distrust visible on his face with his mask off. Masky fought the urge to light another cigarette, bringing his knees to his chest. “The fireplace as well as our body heat is enough to survive. Unless you have a better idea, be quiet,” Masky replied dryly. Toby took the opportunity to lay his head in your lap, a place he had been time and time again. You had taken on this role long ago, stroking his chestnut hair until the unpredictable ticking time bomb fell asleep. Tonight was no exception, even as you settled in next to Masky.
You ignored the ever growing tension that sprouted with each second as your arms touched, the smell of his cologne mixed with tobacco flooding your nostrils. Tensions were ever growing as your arm brushed against his, your energies so magnetic it made you unmistakably nervous. Nervous. You never felt nervous in any other situation. But around Masky? Especially close like this? You might as well have been a flirty high school girl. Hoodie ignored the three of you, jumping over the arm of the couch and making himself comfortable. He was always reserved like that, refusing to touch any of you unless he was back handing Toby. The couch squeaked under his weight, the squeaks continuing until the older proxy got settled.
You continued to play with Toby’s hair, swirling your fingers around his scalp. “Warm enough kid?” Masky asked, his voice more rough than usual. You tried to avoid staring, noticing him taking off his mask out of the corner of your eye. You wanted nothing more than to soak in his features, especially since his mask was practically glued to his face a majority of the time. Instead you forced yourself gaze to remain forward, watching the fire flicker. “I suppose,” You mumbled, catching a knot in Toby’s hair. You refrained from cringing as you brushed it through with your fingers, thankful he couldn’t feel pain as he slept soundly. The sound of Hoodie’s soft snores put Masky a little more at ease, his next words something he wouldn’t admit to the other two men next to you.
“You were right about earlier. I was an asshole, I should’ve had us head here to begin with,” Masky admitted timidly. He didn’t like being the leader, that role automatically assigned to him like it was his birth right. What he didn’t like even more than that, was admitting that he was wrong. He expected ridicule, which he would’ve gotten if you were Hoodie or Toby. But instead you laid your head on his shoulder, nuzzling your cheek against the fabric of his sweater. “I know you were just trying to please The Operator,” You whispered. You continued playing with Toby’s hair, ensuring your hand didn’t stop. You glanced up in his direction, soaking in his thick eyebrows and awkward side burns. His chocolate eyes met yours unsurely, an eyebrow raising.
“What are you doing to me kid?” Masky grumbled, his own heart beginning to race. This was bad news, feeling this way towards you. But the orange glow against your skin had him reeling in his own skin. “You tell me boss,” You whispered back, edging your lips towards his. It caught you off guard that Masky made the first move, planting his lips against yours. His lips were as chapped as yours, his taste a recognized mixture of mint and cigarettes. You melted under his touch, eagerly kissing him back. He was intoxicating, his large hand slipping into your hair.
You could feel your core throbbing with desire, your cheeks flushing pink as you realized this. Being a proxy didn’t exactly equate a productive sex life, your body longing for the touch of another human. You couldn’t get enough of his lips, his desperation. It was just as passionate as yours, both of you longing for human compassion. You shuddered as his large hand slithered down to your thigh, your legs parting instantly. His cold fingertips trailed up your sensitive skin, tracing your skin teasingly. You held back a soft groan, Masky eager to hear you make sinful noise for him. He was so close to your core, your body shuddering at the idea-
“What the fuck are you two doing?”
Hoodies voice was sharp, abruptly interrupting your lustful daze. Love affairs between proxies was forbidden, a strict rule made clear to you by The Operator. While he gave the same speech to Kate, he knew that her feralness would unintentionally have her follow his rule to a T. You, however, were semi more mentally stable, with a knack for fashion and semi put together appearances. For the first time you saw panic across Masky’s eyes, causing you to clear your throat. “Sharing body warmth obviously, you cold Hoodie?” You asked, the lie leaving your lips before you had time to consider the repercussions. For a second you could’ve swore you saw a glimpse of Brian, a playful smirk crawling up his lips.
Your hand abandoned Toby’s hair, grabbing a handful of Hoodies coat to drag him closer to you. You managed to spare a moment of hesitation, dragging his lips to clash into yours. You were tense at first, unsure what the proxy would do. You were surprised to feel him meet your desperation all the same, the nagging realization of his similar loneliness crashing over you. Teeth clashed with teeth, his desperation resulting in a deeper kiss than you expected. You found yourself getting even more flushed, knowing Masky’s eyes were burning into yours. He took the opportunity to press his hand against your core, noting how damp your panties were already.
“You’re gonna wake the kid up,” Hoodie grunted, reluctant to pull away from your lips to begin with. Masky rubbed against your swollen slick, earning a small whimper from you. “I’m a-a-already up,” Toby said groggily, sitting up. You avoided his gaze as he soaked in the sinful sight in front him, Masky’s hand on your cunt and Hoodie’s lips mere centimeters from yours. You swallowed, your core throbbing at the idea of taking all three of them at once. After all, you had to convince yourself you weren’t lying. This entanglement was nothing more than an exchange of body heat, a way to keep warm.
Right?
You turned your head towards Toby swallowing nervously as you leaned forward to kiss him. It caught him off guard, his light grey cheeks forming a tint of pink as he matched your actions. Two sets of large hands rearranged you as you lost yourself into the kiss, your ass in the air as your skirt got flipped up. “Fuck,” Masky mumbled, his cold hand sending goosebumps across your skin. You could hear Hoodie moving on the couch, causing you to pull away from sucking on Toby’s bottom lip. The clinking of his belt fully caught your attention, your eyebrows raised. “Do you um, not wanna be warm?” You asked slowly. A pang of embarrassment shot through you, a creeping worry of his lack of desire for you arising. The taller proxy smirked, unzipping his jeans.
“I just wanna watch you get knocked down a few pegs, now go on and kiss Masky again,” Hoodie ordered, palming himself through his jeans. You turned to Masky, cheeks flushed red and heart pounding as you met his gaze. His pupils were blown with lust, his face in the softest state you had ever seen it. You met his lips eagerly, obeying Hoodies demand. Toby took the opportunity to come up behind you, his cold hands slipping under your shirt. Your hand slithered its way down to Masky’s crotch, palming his hard boner. You were satisfied to hear a small groan claw its way out of his throat, your lips eagerly swallowing it. You arched your back as Toby’s curious fingertips found their way to your breast, squeezing harshly at your perky nipples.
“N-No bra? You’re just d-d-dying to get fucked huh?” Toby snickered. Goosebumps trailed down your spine as you whimpered, nibbling on Masky’s bottom lip. Your eyes slowly fluttered open, soaking in his facial expression. “Let me suck you off,” You whispered, biting the inside of your cheek as Toby harshly twisted your left nipple. Masky seemed at a loss of words, something that rarely occurred to him. He looked over you, eyeing a mischievous Toby. “Hey kid, make yourself useful and let her ride your face,” He said, his words laced with authority. You couldn’t ignore the warmth that spread over you as Toby laid on his back, nuzzling himself between your knees.
“Sit back on his face princess,” Hoodie ordered, pulling his cock out of his boxers. Masky clenched his jaw, having momentarily forgotten Hoodie was even there. He watched your shaky hands fiddle with his belt, slowly lowering yourself onto Toby’s eager mouth. You nervously glanced down at the younger proxy, licking your dry lips. “You can uh, touch yourself you know, or something,” You offered unsurely, feeling him shove your panties to the side with his cold fingertips. Masky placed his hand on the back of your head, gently reminding you to focus. “He’ll figure it out kid, stop worryin’ so much,” Masky grumbled. You continued to focus on undressing him, whimpering as you felt Toby’s warm tongue dart in between your folds.
“This is taking way too fuckin long. Let’s speed things up shall we?” Hoodie asked, his cock already exposed and in hand. Your eyes widened as he took out his hand gun, clicking off the safety. “Get to sucking princess,” Hoodie barked. Toby continued to lap at your folds, his tongue messily flicking your clit. “Are you out of your goddamn mind? What the fuck is wrong with you?” Masky argued. His attention was diverted once you took him in your mouth, eagerly bobbing your head up and down on his hard cock. Hoodie smirked at your reaction, noting the way your thighs squeezed Toby’s head harder. “Look at her Mask. You think a girl like us isn’t into some freaky shit? Now shut up and enjoy it,” Hoodie snickered, stroking himself to the sight.
Toby was eager, his hand pumping his own shaft as he devoured your cunt. He couldn’t get enough of your taste, his soft groans muffled by your soaked folds. Your hips involuntarily grinded against his face, your own moans sending vibrations around Masky’s cock. The brunette tried to hide his own sinful noises, but you taking him to the base cancelled out any possibility of him being able to do so. His hand grabbed a handful of your hair, assertively guiding you up and down his cock. Hoodie couldn’t get enough of the sinful sight, your knees digging into the hard wood as you struggled to hold yourself up. He wouldn’t stop watching even if the world collapsed.
Meanwhile Masky was struggling to hold on, having spent years and years with his hand as his only companion. Your mouth was so warm and wet, your throat only making it harder to resist cumming right then and there. “Fuck kid, you’re gonna be the death of me,” He grunted, feeling your tongue swirl around his tip. Your eyes were already flooded with tears, your gaze meeting his as you deep throated him. It was embarrassing to Masky how fast he knew he was going to cum, your sweet face only bringing him closer to the edge. Hoodie noted this as well, noticing the way Masky’s hips began slowly stuttering. A sadistic thought came to mind, one that he knew would ensure a good time for every party involved.
Your orgasm was approaching quickly, your thighs squeezing Toby’s head so tightly you were almost worried about him. “Go on princess, that’s it. Ride Toby’s face like the good whore you are,” Hoodie purred, stroking himself. He enjoyed watching your micro expressions, your mannerisms. The way your eyebrows furrowed when Toby licked you just right. Masky momentarily pulled out of your mouth, craving to hear your moans. Your spare hand was tugging at Toby’s hair, whimpers clawing their way out of your throat. “Fuck, feels so good T-Toby-” You whined, tilting your head back. Precum and saliva covered your swollen lips, your gaze meeting Masky’s. “Can I cum? Fuck, please let me cum,” You whined, struggling to contain yourself. Masky smirked at your request, briefly giving Hoodie a cocky glance.
“Go on kid, cum for us,” He cooed. Words couldn’t describe the satisfaction he felt as you came on Tobys face, your eyes rolling back and legs shaking. You planned to get off, a click from Hoodies gun ripping you away from your ride of euphoria. “I didn’t tell you to get off, did I? Keep riding princess,” Hoodie barked. Toby was still as eager as ever, his mouth gratefully accepting you as you lowered back down onto him. He lapped at your slick, devouring your cum. “Nobody’s stopping until everyone cums. That’s only fair, isn’t it?” Hoodie asked mockingly. You rolled your tongue out across your bottom lip, presenting yourself for Masky to use. “Masky, please, let me taste you,” You pleaded, struggling to stay upright. The overstimulation was making your body twitch, the brunette quick to shove himself back in your mouth.
Something about this, watching you be overstimulated and cumming, drove Masky feral.
He was more aggressive this time, pulling your hair and forcing your jaw to go slack. You whined as you struggled to keep up, saliva trailing down the sides of your mouth. “Such a good hole for me to use, fuck,” Masky groaned. He could feel himself coming closer to his orgasm, his hips stuttering as he thrust one final time down your throat. His warm seed made you gag as you struggled to keep him in your mouth. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you gripped his thighs, swallowing him whole. He pulled out of your mouth, watching you gulp for air. You were so pretty like this, your face fucked out and sounds nothing more than incoherent babbles. You could hear Toby’s groans growing louder as well, your thighs squeezing around his head as he came on his stomach. The three of you were spent, Toby’s tongue momentarily coming yo a pause.
The sound of Hoodies gun clicking caught all three of your attention, the taller proxy not hiding his sadistic grin. “Not all of us have cum, have we?” He asked, sending a shiver of fear and arousal down your spine. “Keep sucking princess,” He barked. His gaze landed on Toby, whose eyes were barely visible from between your thighs.
“And keep eating her out kid, I wanna see her squirm.”
Can I make a platonic request about Charlie with the human reader who died aiding her in her fighting Adam but then returns as a sinner being the one to stab Adam in the back?
𝔜𝔬𝔲 𝔅𝔢𝔱𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔎𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔜𝔬𝔲’𝔯𝔢 𝔉𝔦𝔤𝔥𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔉𝔬𝔯
A/N: I am finally back and writing your guys requests! Also, I am so glad you requested again because I adored your first idea! Sorry it took me so long to write this I hope I hope this ok as I’m nervous that my writing skills have slipped a little from me! Much love!
Word Count: 1.3k
Trigger Warnings: Death and you’re in Hell.
Reader is Gender Neutral
Remember you’re loved, so please stay hydrated and eat plenty of food. ❤️
In the depths of Pentagram City, the air simmered with tension. Charlie, Hell’s reluctant princess, stood resolute, her gaze locked on Adam—the ancient sinner whose unrelenting cruelty threatened to unravel all she had worked for. Beside her was a human who had stumbled into Hell by accident, an ordinary soul driven by an extraordinary heart.
This human, the Reader, had no obligation to fight for a demon princess or her improbable dream of redemption. But something about Charlie’s unwavering belief in the possibility of goodness, even amidst the chaos of Hell, had sparked a flame of loyalty within them. Together, they had fought through countless trials, proving that even a mortal soul could make a profound difference in the underworld.
The Reader’s arrival in Hell had been nothing short of a cosmic accident—a wrong turn on the labyrinthine paths of fate. Awakening in the neon-lit streets of Pentagram City, they had been met with despair and malice at every turn. Lost and overwhelmed, they encountered Charlie at the Hazbin Hotel, the sanctuary she had built as a beacon of hope for the damned. Charlie extended her hand, offering not just guidance but a chance to fight for something greater than mere survival.
Together, they had journeyed across Hell’s harshest locales, from the chaotic Red Light District to the eerie depths of the Lust Ring. The Reader’s mortal perspective often clashed with the demonic cynicism that permeated their surroundings, but their unyielding determination inspired others to join Charlie’s mission. Through every hardship, their bond deepened, becoming an unbreakable connection forged in fire and hope.
The final confrontation unfolded in the abandoned ruins of Lamentation Hall, a once-magnificent palace now steeped in shadows. Adam, towering and formidable, wielded his infernal blade with cruel precision, his malevolent laughter reverberating in the cavernous chamber. He toyed with Charlie, his overwhelming power making her struggles seem futile. The Reader, battered and bruised, knew they couldn’t stand idly by.
As Adam raised his weapon for the killing blow, the Reader acted without hesitation. With a desperate cry, they hurled themselves between Charlie and Adam. The blade meant for her pierced their chest, the impact reverberating through the room like a thunderclap. For a moment, the world seemed to hold its breath.
Charlie caught the Reader as they crumpled, their weight heavy in her arms. Blood spilled from the wound, staining her hands as she pressed against it, as though sheer willpower could stop the inevitable. “No,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “No, no, no. Stay with me. Please, stay with me.”
The Reader’s face was pale, their breaths shallow and ragged. A weak smile touched their lips as they met Charlie’s tearful gaze. “I couldn’t let him hurt you,” they murmured, their words strained but unwavering. “You… you’re the hope this place needs.”
“Why?” Charlie’s voice broke, tears streaming down her cheeks. “Why did you do this? You didn’t have to…”
With trembling fingers, the Reader reached up, brushing her cheek. “Because someone has to believe in you,” they said, their voice barely audible. “If you don’t win… there’s no hope for any of us.” Their hand fell away as their strength ebbed. “Promise me… you’ll keep fighting.”
“I promise,” Charlie choked out, clutching them closer as though she could anchor them to life by sheer force of will.
The faintest smile graced the Reader’s lips. “Good…” With one last, shuddering breath, their body stilled, leaving an unbearable silence in their wake.
❦.
For a moment, the world seemed to collapse around Charlie. The sound of Adam’s cruel laughter became a distant hum, drowned by the deafening void left by the Reader’s absence. A raw scream tore from her throat, a mixture of anguish and fury. Gently, she laid the Reader’s lifeless form on the ground, brushing her fingers over their face one final time before rising to confront Adam.
“You will pay for this,” she growled, her voice trembling with a mixture of grief and righteous rage.
Adam smirked, his amusement palpable. “A noble sacrifice,” he sneered, “but ultimately futile. Do you truly think you can defeat me?”
Charlie’s fists clenched, a radiant energy surging around her like a blazing inferno. “They believed in me,” she said, her voice steady with newfound resolve. “And that’s all I need.”
❦.
Time passed. Charlie, fueled by the memory of the Reader’s sacrifice, rallied her allies and launched an unrelenting campaign against Adam. Despite her efforts, his power seemed insurmountable, feeding on the despair of Hell’s denizens. Victory felt increasingly out of reach.
Then, on the eve of their final confrontation, a shadow emerged from the depths of Hell. A figure clad in dark, ethereal armor stepped forward. It was the Reader, reborn as a sinner. Their once-bright eyes now glowed with an eerie crimson light, and their form radiated an unholy power, wreathed in the fiery essence of the underworld.
The process of their transformation had been excruciating. Their soul, once human, had been forged anew by Hell’s brutal forces, reshaped into something darker yet no less determined. Though memories of their sacrifice lingered, the pain of their rebirth was fresh, their mortal body replaced by this fearsome new form. And through it all, their unwavering resolve to protect Charlie had kept them from succumbing to despair.
Charlie stared in disbelief. “You… you’re alive?”
“Not alive,” the Reader replied, their voice resonating with an otherworldly echo. “But not gone, either.” They flexed their clawed fingers, their new strength radiating a fearsome energy. “I’ve been given another chance, Charlie. This time, I’ll finish what I started.”
Their reunion was brief. The urgency of the coming battle left no time for explanations or reconciliation. Though Charlie’s allies eyed the Reader with wary suspicion, her faith in them remained steadfast. Together, they prepared for the final confrontation, the weight of their shared history binding them tighter than ever.
The battle that followed was cataclysmic. Adam faced Charlie and her allies with confidence born of overwhelming power, but he had not anticipated the Reader’s return. They fought with a ferocity born of their new existence, their movements precise and relentless, as though they had been remade for this very purpose.
Charlie and the Reader moved in perfect tandem. While her radiant magic clashed against Adam’s dark energy, the Reader’s newfound strength exploited every opening. Each strike they delivered was fueled by the memory of their sacrifice and the hope they had sworn to protect.
As Adam’s focus remained on Charlie’s unyielding assault, the Reader slipped behind him, their steps silent and deliberate. With a dagger forged from their own soul’s torment, they struck. The blade pierced Adam’s back, driving deep into his core. His roar of agony echoed through the chamber as his power faltered.
“This is for everyone you’ve hurt,” the Reader growled, their voice steady and resolute. “And for the hope you tried to destroy.”
Adam collapsed, his form dissolving into ash and shadow. Silence settled over the chamber. Charlie approached the Reader, her expression a mixture of relief and sadness.
“You didn’t have to do this,” she said softly.
The Reader turned to her, their fiery aura dimming. “I couldn’t let your hope die, Charlie. It’s the only light in this darkness.”
For a moment, they stood in silence, the weight of their journey pressing down on them. The Reader knew they could never return to who they once were, but in their new form, they had found purpose. As long as Charlie’s dream endured, they would stand by her side, a sinner redeemed by their belief in a better Hell.
❦.
In the aftermath, Charlie’s vision for Hell began to take root. Word of Adam’s defeat spread, and for the first time, whispers of change stirred among the damned. The Reader became a symbol of hope—a sinner who had found redemption, proof that even in the depths of Hell, transformation was possible.
Charlie and the Reader worked tirelessly, forging alliances and dismantling the oppressive structures that had long defined Hell. Their efforts inspired others to join their cause, paving the way for a new era. The road ahead was fraught with challenges, but neither wavered.
𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛, 𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢! 🍎
𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑦-𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑠 ❤️
Hi, can u do Vi x Reader. Where Vi and Reader are hanging out with Caitlyn till they stop by a candy store. Reader was squealing happily and ran to the store and got Bean Boozled Candy. Vi and Caitlyn were nervous because they are good and bad ones. They went to Caitlyn’s place in the kitchen and got started. Vi was sweating a little bit and Reader was excited. The first round was blueberry and toothpaste. Vi and Reader got the good one while Caitlyn got the toothpaste. On the second round, it was Carmel corn or moldy cheese. Reader and Caitlyn got the one while Vi got the bad one and she spit immediately and making disgusting faces. On the final round, it was licorice or skunk spray. Reader got the good one but Vi and Caitlyn got the bad one and they went to kitchen to get water to rinse it out. Vi was feeling funny and she went to the sink and throw up. 
𝚂𝚠𝚎𝚎𝚝 𝙲𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚜
A/N: I woke up to this request and might I say it made me laugh so hard. Definitely brings me back to when I was younger doing this challenge with my siblings. Also you’re my first request on this blog, congrats!! <3
Word Count: 0.6k
TW: Vomit
Reader is gender-neutral
It had been a casual afternoon spent with Caitlyn, and Vi didn’t think it could get any better—or worse—until the three of you stumbled upon a small candy store. The bright display of sweets immediately caught your attention, and before Vi could say anything, you let out a squeal of excitement. “Oh my gosh! They have Bean Boozled! We have to play!” you exclaimed, practically bouncing on your heels.
Vi and Caitlyn exchanged wary glances. They both knew about the infamous candy game—jelly beans that looked identical but could taste like anything from blueberries to skunk spray. Vi scratched the back of her neck while Caitlyn adjusted her gloves, clearly apprehensive. “You sure about this, babe?” Vi asked, side-eyeing the brightly colored package you were clutching to your chest. “Positive!” you chirped, already heading toward the checkout counter.
｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ
Back at Caitlyn’s pristine kitchen, you were practically vibrating with excitement while Vi leaned against the counter, arms crossed, and Caitlyn meticulously read the instructions as if she were preparing for an interrogation. “Alright,” Caitlyn announced, setting the box down. “First round—blueberry or toothpaste.” You spun the little wheel and handed out the blue jelly beans, grinning from ear to ear.
“Here goes nothing,” Vi muttered, popping the jelly bean into her mouth. Her face lit up almost immediately. “Oh! Blueberry! Not bad.” You grinned as you chewed yours. “Same! So good!” Caitlyn, however, chewed slowly before grimacing. “Toothpaste,” she admitted with a slight frown. “It’s minty, but honestly, not the worst thing in the world.”
The second round—caramel corn or moldy cheese—had Vi already starting to sweat. You spun the wheel again and handed out the jelly beans, and the three of you bit down simultaneously. Vi’s reaction was immediate. “Gah!” she yelped, spitting the jelly bean into a napkin as her face twisted in utter disgust. “Oh, no! That’s definitely moldy cheese!” You and Caitlyn burst into laughter as Vi grabbed a glass of water to rinse her mouth. “Caramel corn!” you cheered, savoring the sweet flavor. Caitlyn nodded, holding her candy like a prize. “Same here,” she said with a smug grin. “Guess you got the short end of the stick this time, Vi.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Vi grumbled, still grimacing. “Let’s just get this over with.” The final round was the ultimate test—licorice or skunk spray. You handed out the black jelly beans, and the tension in the room was palpable.
“Ready?” you asked, your eyes gleaming with mischief. “Not even a little,” Vi replied, narrowing her eyes at the jelly bean. “Three… two… one!”
You bit into yours and immediately grinned. “Licorice! Yes!”
Meanwhile, Vi and Caitlyn froze as the taste hit them. Caitlyn’s face turned green as she bolted to the sink, groaning, “Oh, no! Skunk spray!” Vi’s eyes went wide, and a horrified expression spread across her face. “This is disgusting!” she sputtered, rushing to the sink right after Caitlyn. She grabbed a glass of water and frantically rinsed her mouth, but it wasn’t enough. Moments later, Vi bent over the sink and retched, the taste lingering far longer than she’d like.
“Vi, are you okay?” you asked, half-concerned, half-laughing. “Never again,” Vi groaned, glaring at the box of candies as if it had personally offended her.
“You’re way too good at this, babe.” Shrugging with a cheeky grin, you popped another jelly bean into your mouth. “What can I say? It’s a gift.” Caitlyn, still sipping water to wash the taste from her mouth, shook her head with a small smile. “Next time, we’re picking something a little less… hazardous.”
Vi shot her a look. “Next time? Yeah, no thanks. I’m retiring from jelly beans for life.” The three of you laughed about it for the rest of the evening—though Vi made sure to steer you far away from any candy stores on the walk home.
𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢! 🩷
𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦: @𝑎𝑛𝑖𝑚𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑𝑔𝑙𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑟𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑠-𝑛-𝑚𝑜𝑟𝑒
𝐵𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑑 𝑏𝑦 𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑛
A/N: I’m so full of Angst ideas and I’m not sure why. I promise to write more fluffier, cheesy stuff later on down the road, but for now, take this anguish my lovelies. (I might make a part two of this, only because I liked it so much.)
Word Count: 2.2k
TW: Cussing, Arguments, Brian and Tim are toxic, grief.
Reader is a female!
The apartment door slammed shut with a resounding crack, the force reverberating through the small space. You flinched, startled, and looked up from where you sat curled on the couch. Tim and Brian were back, their faces hard and unreadable, though the tension between them filled the room like smoke.
“It’s midnight, where the hell were you?!” you demanded, standing up as your voice quavered between anger and worry. Your heart pounded. They had been gone for hours with no word, leaving you to stew in an anxious cocktail of fear and frustration.
Tim tossed his jacket onto the back of the chair, not even sparing you a glance. “Out,” he muttered, the single word cutting through the air like a knife.
“Out? That’s all you’ve got to say?” You stepped closer, your fists clenched at your sides. “I was worried sick! You can’t just disappear for hours and not—”
“Are you even listening to me?” The words tumbled out, louder than you intended. The silence that followed was suffocating.
Brian leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were sharp, like he was sizing you up, ready to dismantle you piece by piece. “What more do you really want?” he sneered, his tone cold. “We’re back. Isn’t that enough?”
“Enough?” Your voice cracked. “You left me here, with no explanation, no text, nothing! Do you know what that feels like?”
Brian’s laugh was bitter, a sound devoid of warmth. “You’re so pathetic. Always clinging, always demanding.”
Your chest tightened, the words hitting harder than they should have. “What is wrong with you guys? I stayed up all night worrying about you. I thought you might’ve been hurt—or worse!” you snapped, though your voice wavered under the weight of Tim’s sharp glare.
Tim finally turned to you, his expression a mixture of exhaustion and something sharper. “Can you just fuck off already?” he said, his words devoid of emotion.
The ground felt like it was slipping beneath you. You stared at him, unable to process what he’d just said, eyes starting to form small beads, glistening when the kitchen light reflected off them.
Brian’s smirk widened as he tilted his head, his voice dripping with mockery. “Oh, is the poor little thing going to cry? Can’t handle a bit of truth, huh?”
You stood there, rooted in place, as the words rained down on you like blows you couldn’t dodge. Your chest tightened, each syllable slicing deeper, but you couldn’t move, couldn’t speak. The walls seemed to close in around you, the air growing heavier with every passing moment.
Tim remained unmoved, his gaze sharpening.
Brian pushed himself off the counter, his movements slow and deliberate as he walked past you, his shoulder brushing yours in a way that felt intentional. “Ever since we first met, you’ve been nothing but a burden,” he muttered, his voice low but clear enough to pierce through the din of your spiraling thoughts.
Something in you cracked. The fragile hope you’d held onto, that this was just a bad day and things would work themselves out, shattered completely. “Fine,” you said, your voice trembling but steady enough to carry the weight of your resolve. “Leave, then. Both of you. I don’t need this.”
For the first time, neither of them had a quick retort. They exchanged a glance—silent, unreadable—and without another word, Tim grabbed his jacket. Brian didn’t even bother to look back as they walked out the door.
The silence they left behind was deafening.
‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿
The door closed with a soft click this time, and the sound made your stomach twist. The fight was over, but it didn’t feel like a victory. The quiet that followed wasn’t peace—it was suffocating. You stood frozen in the center of the room, your arms hanging limply at your sides, heart hammering in your chest.
You’d told them to leave. And they had.
Tears pricked your eyes, blurring your vision as the weight of everything began to settle. Their words echoed in your mind, each one sharper than the last.
“You’re so pathetic.”
“Can you just fuck off already?”
“You’re nothing but a burden.”
Your knees buckled, and you sank onto the couch, trembling. You hugged yourself, as if you could somehow shield yourself from the bruises their words had left behind. It wasn’t the first time arguments like this had erupted between you three. The stress of working with the Operator, the endless, mind-numbing missions, and the constant danger had frayed everyone’s nerves. But tonight had been different.
Tonight, they hadn’t just been angry—they’d been cruel.
You wiped at your face with the sleeve of your hoodie, your breath hitching as the tears came faster. “Why did it have to be like this?” you whispered to no one.
For a moment, you let yourself remember the good days—the laughter, the late nights spent curled up together, the small moments of tenderness that had made all the chaos bearable. You’d thought that those moments meant something, that they could carry you all through the worst of it.
But maybe you were wrong.
The clock on the wall ticked loudly, each second dragging on longer than the last. The apartment felt too big, too empty without their presence, even if that presence had been brimming with anger. You couldn’t stop replaying the argument in your head, trying to pinpoint the moment where everything had spiraled out of control.
Had you pushed too hard? Or had they finally shown you what they truly thought of you?
Your phone buzzed on the coffee table, snapping you out of your thoughts. You reached for it with shaking hands, half-hoping it was one of them. Maybe Tim or Brian would apologize, or at least explain what had set them off so badly.
But it wasn’t them. It was just a useless notification—a weather alert. You threw the phone back onto the table, the small hope you’d allowed yourself fizzling out as quickly as it had come.
A cold wave of exhaustion swept over you. You pulled a blanket over your shoulders, curling into yourself as the tears continued to fall.
‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿
Hours passed, though you couldn’t tell how many. You didn’t sleep—how could you, with your mind racing and your chest aching like this? You wanted to hate them, wanted to banish their faces from your thoughts, but it was impossible.
The door opened again sometime near dawn. The sound jolted you upright, your breath catching in your throat. For a split second, you thought maybe they’d come back to make things right.
Tim stood in the doorway, looking drained and disheveled. Brian was behind him, his face an unreadable mask. Neither of them spoke at first.
“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice hoarse from crying.
Tim looked away, scratching the back of his neck. “We forgot some stuff,” he muttered. “It’s not like we came back for you.”
The sharpness of his words was dulled by his tone—it wasn’t cruel, just... hollow.
Brian crossed the room without a word, grabbing a duffel bag from the corner and stuffing a few things into it. He didn’t even glance in your direction.
The sight of them, so detached and indifferent, made something inside you snap. “That’s it?” you said, your voice trembling with anger and disbelief. “You’re just going to walk in here, grab your shit, and leave? After everything?”
Tim turned to face you, his expression darkening. “What do you want me to say?” he snapped. “That we’re sorry? That everything’s fine now? It’s not.”
“I don’t want your empty apologies,” you shot back. “I wanted you to care. I wanted you to try.”
Brian finally spoke, his voice cold and sharp. “We’ve been trying. You think this is easy? You think we can just continue acting like everything’s fine when it’s not?”
“Do you even hear yourselves?” you said, your voice rising. “You’re blaming me for this—like I’m the one who’s broken us!”
Tim’s jaw tightened. “Maybe you should look in the mirror, then.”
The room fell silent again, the weight of his words pressing down on you like a heavy stone.
You swallowed hard, blinking back the fresh tears that threatened to spill over. “If this is how little you think of me, then why did you stay for so long?”
Neither of them answered.
Brian slung the duffel bag over his shoulder, his expression unchanging. “We couldn’t handle faking it anymore,” he said.
You stared at them, your chest heaving as anger and despair warred within you. “Fine,” you said, your voice trembling. “I don’t know what I saw in you both to be together this long.” The words you spoke came out like venom, even shocking you.
Tim hesitated for a moment, but Brian didn’t look back as he opened the door and stepped out. Tim followed, the door closing behind them with a finality that left you breathless.
And then, once again, you were alone.
‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿
The hours that followed their departure stretched endlessly, every second heavier than the last. The apartment felt like a hollow shell—an echo chamber of everything they had said and everything you hadn’t had the chance to say. Sleep evaded you; every time you closed your eyes, their voices lingered, cruel and sharp like glass shards digging into your chest.
When the sun finally rose, its weak light spilled through the curtains, and you sat up, exhausted but restless. Their things were gone now, but the spaces they had filled—the chair Tim always slouched in, the spot on the kitchen counter Brian leaned against when he teased you—those remained, taunting you.
By noon, you had reached your breaking point. You had to confront them—not to bring them back, but to purge the poison they’d left in your veins. You grabbed your phone and sent a message to Tim.
We need to talk. Face-to-face. Please.
You didn’t expect him to reply. You didn’t expect him to come, either. But an hour later, there was a knock at the door.
When you opened it, Tim stood there, his expression guarded. He had changed out of his wrinkled clothes from the night before but still looked just as tired.
“Where’s Brian?” you asked flatly.
“Not here,” he said, stepping inside. “He didn’t want to come.”
“Of course he didn’t,” you muttered under your breath.
Tim frowned, crossing his arms. “You wanted to talk. So talk.”
The sight of him standing there, so detached, made your blood boil. “You promised me,” you said, your voice trembling. “You both did. You promised we’d stick together, no matter how hard things got.”
Tim’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well, promises don’t mean much when everything’s falling apart.”
“You think I don’t know that?” you snapped. “I gave you everything I had. Everything! Look where that got me.”
He flinched, just barely, but it was enough to spur you on. “Every time I look at you,” you said, your voice breaking, “all I see are the faces of the people who once told me they loved me, that I was the only bright spark in their dark world. And now you’re just like them—another person who tore me apart and left me here to bleed.”
“Stop,” Tim said quietly, but you weren’t done.
“You changed me, Tim. You and Brian both. You broke me down until there was nothing left. And the worst part? Neither of you will ever find someone who loves a soul as filthy as yours.”
“That’s enough!” he shouted, his voice cutting through the room like a whip.
The silence that followed was deafening. Tim looked away, his jaw tight, his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
You let out a shaky breath, your anger giving way to exhaustion. “Was any of it real? Did it ever really mean something to either of you?” you whispered, looking at Tim with some form of hope in your eyes.
Tim’s head snapped back toward you, his expression shifting. “Of course it meant something!” he said, his voice cracking. “You think I didn’t care? You think none of it mattered to me?”
“Did it?” you asked, your voice flat. “Because if it did, why did you let it end like this? Why didn’t you fight for us?”
He stared at you, his mouth opening as if to say something, but no words came out.
Finally, he shook his head and turned toward the door. “I can’t do this,” he muttered.
“Of course you can’t,” you said bitterly. “Running away is the only thing you’ve ever been good at.”
He hesitated, his hand on the doorknob, but didn’t look back. And then, just like that, he was gone.
‿̩͙‿ ༺ ♰ ༻ ‿̩͙‿
The next few days passed in a blur. You didn’t hear from either of them, and part of you was grateful for the silence. But the pain lingered, festering like an open wound. You replayed the argument with Tim over and over in your mind, dissecting every word, every glance, every moment where things could have gone differently.
You weren’t sure if you wanted to fix things anymore. Maybe there was nothing left to fix.
But one thing was certain—you wouldn’t let them tear you apart again.
𝑃𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑑𝑜 𝑛𝑜𝑡 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑔𝑖𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑧𝑒 𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑝𝑜𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑦 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑘 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑜𝑢𝑡 𝑝𝑒𝑟𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛. 𝑇ℎ𝑜𝑠𝑒 𝑤ℎ𝑜 𝑑𝑜 𝑤𝑖𝑙𝑙 𝑏𝑒 𝑏𝑙𝑜𝑐𝑘𝑒𝑑. 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘𝑠! 🖤
𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑖𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑓𝑖𝑟𝑒𝑓𝑙𝑦-𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑝ℎ𝑖𝑐𝑠
𝐺𝐼𝐹 𝑏𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑙𝑜𝑣𝑒𝑙𝑦 @𝑘𝑟𝑣𝑝𝑖𝑘𝑎
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“𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑠𝑐𝑎𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑠𝑡 𝑚𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝑖𝑠 𝑎𝑙𝑤𝑎𝑦𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑏𝑒𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑟𝑡.” - 𝑆𝑡𝑒𝑝ℎ𝑒𝑛 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑔|| 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬: 𝐎𝐩𝐞𝐧! || 𝐌𝐃𝐍𝐈 || 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭! ||
42 posts