#save your -sorry/not sorry- for the afterlife

[elegantauthor]

Saving Grace Chapter 24

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Aurora Stark

Summary: Aurora journeys to the afterlife.

Warnings: Goddess symbolism (death/rebirth)

Series Masterlist

“Kid, no offense, but I didn’t sacrifice myself for you to rain on my parade.”

Aurora hadn’t heard his voice in six months, but it resounded as clear as crystal. She looked around the infinite void, eyes filling with tears as Tony sauntered into view. “Dad…”

“Oh, honey, don’t cry.” He smiled softly, taking a step and another until he was directly in front of her. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and she leaned in; his fatherly touch sorely missed. “You know all this mushy stuff is too much for your old man.”

Aurora huffed a small laugh, opening her eyes, to see moisture collecting unbidden in his. “Am I…?”

“Yeah, honey, you died. What on Earth were you thinking?” His tone held no anger, only his characteristic sass.

“I did it for Bucky,” she answered, knowing in her heart she’d do it again.

“That man is going to be the ruin of our family.” Again, there was no bitterness, just an unspoken acceptance. Death offered perspective, and Tony saw Bucky for who he truly was—a man whose life ended too soon, who was reborn again as the Winter Soldier, and again into the man his daughter loved. “I ought to have words with your mother.”

“What does Mom have to do with this?” asked Aurora, though she already hankered a guess.

Tony smirked. “Turns out love is the greatest source of power there is, but it can’t be quantified in an Infinity Stone. It takes us measly humans, or aliens, or androids—you get the gist—to do something incredible with it.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means you have a choice to make. You can either stay here with your old man, or dot, dot, dot.”

~ * ~

“Come with us, White Wolf.” Contrary to their strained relationship since Latvia, Ayo’s gentle words conveyed a promise of redemption and renewed friendship. “We will bury her in Wakanda.”

Scrunching up his face, Bucky nodded. “Yeah,” he rasped, glancing over Aurora’s body. His eyes alighted on the gold chain, a strangled noise filling his throat at the sight of her wedding ring. He swallowed roughly, grasping the small gold band between his forefinger and thumb. She’d worn it all this time. “Let me make a call first.” He retrieved his phone from his pocket and shakily dialed Sam’s number. “Sam?”

“Hey, man, what’s up? Any new leads?”

“I- I lost her. Aurora. She… She’s gone.” Saying it aloud cemented it, triggering a fresh wave of tears. Holding the phone away from his ear, he brought his hand to his mouth and silently cried.

There was a pause on the other end, then— “Buck, I’m— I’m so sorry.”

“I’m going with Ayo to Wakanda.”

Bucky could practically see Sam nodding, as he processed the news. After another lengthy pause, Sam said, “Yeah, yeah… Aurora loved it there. It’s where the two of you—” He cut himself off, but Bucky knew what he was thinking. It was fitting that it should end where it all began. “I’ll be there.”

“Thanks, Sam.”

Bucky carried Aurora’s lifeless body out of the house. She weighed a feather. Ahead of him, the Royal Talon Fighter hovered in the clearing, along with Zemo, detained by the Dora Milaje. Face contorting with rage, he carefully deposited Aurora into Ayo’s arms and stomped forward, snow crunching underfoot.

He reared back his vibranium fist, punching Zemo squarely in the jaw, staggering him. “You fuckin’ bastard!” He shouted, gripping the other man by the lapels of his jacket with trembling hands, his eyes teeming with tears. There were so many things he wanted to do. The thoughts that ran through his mind rampant and sinister, each grislier than the former.

“I did not intend for this to happen,” said Zemo, a quiet contrast to Bucky’s violent outburst. “You do not have to worry about scratching my name off your list. I— do not deserve your forgiveness, nor will I ask for it.”

“Damn right,” Bucky snarled. “You’re lucky I don’t kill you, but unlike you, I know that revenge doesn’t solve anything. It won’t bring her back, just like it won’t bring back your family. She taught me that. But, I swear to whatever gods exist, if I see your face again, I will not hesitate.”

“Bucky…”

His breath lodged itself in his windpipe, eyes blinking rapidly in disbelief. Had his crazy caught up with him? Was he going delusional after all this time? It made sense that Aurora’s death would cause him to finally snap from reality.

Releasing Zemo, he turned at a snail’s speed. No, he wasn’t crazy or hallucinating. Amidst a halo of warm golden light outlining her, Aurora stood, supported by Ayo, whose eyes shimmered with tears. The light subsided, leaving Aurora shivering in her blood-stained dress.

“I suppose you can’t easily kill a demigoddess.”

“Aurora…” He closed the space between them in record time even for a Super Soldier, shrugging off his coat and wrapping it around her shoulders. He palmed her body, cupping her face between his flesh and vibranium hands, blue eyes searching.

“I’m here, Bucky.”

He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into him and murmuring into her hair, “Thank, God.”

~ * ~

Aurora sat on the edge of the bed, watching Bucky; her brow pinched. He was staring. Staring wasn’t unusual for him, but there was a pensiveness in his expression that stirred an uneasy feeling in her stomach. Their flight home delayed by a blizzard, they had no choice but to get a hotel room.

“You’re quiet tonight.”

Bucky shifted his gaze, a sweeping pass over her before he looked down. “What Zemo said about protecting you—”

“Bucky, don’t.” He crossed the room and knelt in front of her, hands splayed across her thighs as his head lay in her lap. She threaded her fingers through his hair. “If I’ve learned anything over the past five years, it’s that we can’t always protect each other. I lost you and my dad to a mad titan. The future is uncertain, yes, but… loving you makes it all worthwhile.”

“You love me, even after…?”

She sighed, her chest tightening at the defeat lacing his voice. “When you helped Zemo escape prison, you couldn’t have predicted this. You acted on good intentions, on what you believed was right.”

“It- It got you killed,” he croaked.

“I know, but it wasn’t your fault. You hear me?” Tipping his chin up to look at her, she smiled sadly—he teetered on the balance of recovery and setback, contrition warring with his self-destructive tendencies.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Hey,” she tenderly kissed his forehead and whispered, “at least he brought you back to me.”

His head fell back to her lap, and he stayed in that position. Silence stretched between them, neither uncomfortable nor forced upon with unnecessary verbiage. After a few minutes, Bucky asked, “What do you do with that? The uncertainties, the no-guarantees?”

Here was a man who’d seen war. A man who’d been captured, experimented on, brainwashed, and tortured. There were no right words. What comfort could she possibly give? Then, it dawned on her.

“You live.”

[aoitakumi8148]

“Достойно ли души смиряться под ударами судьбы иль надо оказать сопротивление?”

𝓝𝓸𝓫𝓸𝓭𝔂 𝓭𝓲𝓮𝓼 𝔀𝓮𝓵𝓵... 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝒹𝒾𝑒 𝑔𝓇𝒶𝒸𝑒𝒻𝓊𝓁𝓁𝓎. 𝒲𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝒶 𝒻𝓊𝓇𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝑜𝓅𝓅𝑜𝓇𝓉𝓊𝓃𝒾𝓉𝓎 𝓉𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝒸𝓀 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒸𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑜𝓇, 𝓉𝓊𝓇𝓃 𝒶𝓌𝒶𝓎, 𝓊𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌𝓁𝑒𝒹𝑔𝑒 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝒾𝓇 𝒻𝒶𝓋𝑜𝓇. 𝒫𝑒𝓇𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓈... 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝒽𝑜𝓊𝓁𝒹'𝓋𝑒 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀𝑒𝒹 𝒾𝓃 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓂𝒾𝓇𝓇𝑜𝓇 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒 & 𝓈𝒶𝒾𝒹 𝒾𝓉 𝓌𝒶𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔... 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓅𝓇𝑒𝒸𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓈. 𝐸𝒶𝒸𝒽 𝑜𝒻 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑒𝓉𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑜𝓇𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝑜𝓇 𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓇𝓁𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓈𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓋𝒶𝓇𝓎𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒹𝑒𝑔𝓇𝑒𝑒𝓈. 𝓥𝓲𝓴𝓽𝓸𝓻 𝓌𝒾𝓃𝓈.

[skythealmighty]

can you imagine if like. object show characters were active on tumblr . i mean fans on here but his account is dead so. i mean itd be fun

#rocket talk #roc save #Fan come Back we miss you

(0 notes)

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

OH MY GOD NEW TPOT EPIWODHWND IM GONNA GO INSANE ONE!!! TELL ME YOUR SECRETS ONE!!!!!!

1️⃣ theoneandonly Follow

:)

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

HELLO??

#oh my god HI . THIS IS LIKE IF A CELEBRITY CAME UP TO ME IN PUBLIC. #ARE THE OTHER ALGEBRALIENS ON TUMBLR??? #/WHAT/

(3 notes)

🧪 test-tubular Follow

My best friend is pacing around my lab. I think a new episode's come out on one of his shows...

#I love him (/p) but he's going to become an unskippable cutscene very quickly

(0 notes)

⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow

i love shrimpy but it feels like he rlly doesnt ... get what i mean you know 😔 at least hes trying to cheer me up? i just wish i had someone to really talk to when it comes to these weird things i keep seeing

💼 emotional-baggage Follow

hey, i completely understand how you feel! im going to be busy the next few days with a finale, but ive sent you a dm if you need someone to talk to ^-^

⛔ nowaynuhuh Follow

thanks, ill take you up on that later!

⛔ nowayhuhuh Follow

...suitcase?

#i dont think shes been online since that last post #i hope shes alright...

(5 notes)

💰 goforthegold Follow

Reblogging this every time I miss my co-hosts!

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

💰 goforthegold Follow

:(

🎮 iamnotmrkrabs Follow

Are you Okay

💰 goforthegold Follow

Take a wild guess.

(512 notes)

🥈 5centwonder Follow

why do people keep messaging me about hotel things?? i barely even go in two's hotel!

🥈 5centwonder Follow

yowie, you all need a hug :(!!

#especially you baseball guy!!! #im giving everyone in the comments a nice warm soft cookie

(19 notes)

🆚️ wordswithfriends Follow

Reblog if you think Flower winning BFB was a good choice, you like cheesecake, you hate Steve Cobs, you think Platinum is annoying, you're a fan of Dr. Fizz, you watch Jasonville TV, you think Glowstick's elimination was deserved, or you're gay

#they'll never know which one #i'm gay

(3,724 notes)

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

WHY IS THERE INTERNET IN RJE AFTERLIFE HELLO

👑 kingofeverything Follow

OMG NO WAY

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

GET OFF OF TUMBLR.

🔌 electricalmusical Follow

YOU HAVE??? A TUMBRL???????

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

...no.

👑 kingofeverything Follow

reblog if u dont have a tumblr

🎡 not-tally-hall Follow

This is stupid.

(10,734 notes)

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

imagine needing to be Consistent to be popular

🖍 magic-crayons Follow

You know it girl!!!

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

AYYYEEEE

#idk who u are but we should hang out Now

(3 notes)

🟢 greenyguy Follow

🅱️alls

(42,853 notes)

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

Oh my god I finally got this thing to connect to the internet. Okay.

Hello, Tumblr, my name is Liam Plecak. I'm sorry for the tag spam, but this is an urgent enough matter that I think warrants it.

For the past year and a half, I've been trapped in another universe with little-to-no communication to anyone else. I've been reading a few posts here and there, and I think some of you might be able to help with freeing me and my friends (I think some of you have powers?). Below is an in-depth description of where I am, what happened, and who did this to me. Please, if you can help, send me an ask.

Keep reading

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

oh my god? liam from hfjone is fucking real????

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

I'm sorry what

[cobaltperun]

Darkest Part - Gives You Hell

Astrid Deetz x female Reader

Summary: You will never, in life or afterlife, if such a thing exists, meet anyone as infuriating, rage inducing, entitled, or frankly awful, as Astrid fucking Deetz. There isn’t a single thing you’d like more than to never be around her, but as your luck would have it, you just can’t stay away from her.

Masterlist / Next Part

Word count: 4.3k

-If you find a man that's worth a damn and treats you well, then he's a fool, you're just as well, hope it gives you hell-

Four minutes left.

You rushed through the park, cursing that the tiled path wasn’t straight. More than anything you cursed your own refusal to run over the grass just to save half a minute. Damn Miss Harrington for keeping everyone after class.

“I dismiss you, my ass,” you wasted precious air to complain and knowing you’d have to go back if you went for the gate, you just jumped over the fence, wincing as it shook behind you. Someone yelled at you to be more careful, but you just began running again, just barely crossing the street before the light turned red.

You spared a moment to look at your watch, two minutes left, and the library was finally in sight. You picked up the pace, luckily avoiding the crowd. Your lungs were burning, tempting you to stop and take a break. So what if you were a minute or two late for work? The world wouldn’t end if you failed to get there on time.

As if. The world might not end, but you were too proud of your perfect record to accept that. You would be there on time and then catch your breath.

“Watch out!” a cyclist yelled a warning, and you looked to the side and just narrowly avoided colliding with him.

“Sorry!” you yelled back as he cursed after you. Well, you did cross his path, so he had the right to do it. Not that you had the time to contemplate on your reckless running as you skidded to a stop in front of the library and went up the stairs as fast as you could. “Right on time,” you went through the door with less than twenty seconds to spare and were met with the annoyance of the people in the library trying to read.

You chuckled sheepishly and then sighed, hanging your head low as you walked through the library as if it was your personal walk of shame. You could just feel the disapproving glares following you, and though you knew it wasn’t exactly everyone in the library judging you it still felt like that. In reality it was more like three people out of about a dozen currently in the library.

“Maybe next time ruin your perfect record instead of barging in and disturbing everyone,” your co-worker and best friend Alex whispered as you went into the break room to leave your things.

“Leave her be, I think it’s cute,” one of the regulars at the library, a pretty, tall girl whose name you somehow kept forgetting whispered and winked at you.

You just shrugged, nodding thanks out of politeness. You were still not sure if she was trying to flirt with you or if she just so happened to always pick the table closest to the counter you and Alex were sitting behind.

~X~

A bit over six and a half hours later, with your backpack on your back and a small paper bag in hand, you opened the doors of the apartment on the seventh floor. You glanced back at the staircase and then at the elevator that worked once in a blue moon. ‘Guess I’m lucky I’m in shape,’ it was a thought that often crossed your mind. Well, childhood spent playing different sports helped.

You locked the doors behind you. “I’m home!” you exclaimed, yelling over the sound of the TV, some animal documentary from what you could hear. Whales? Probably whales. Your mom liked whales a lot. You looked around, the fading scent of cleaning products grabbed your attention, and you noticed it immediately. The lack of any dust, the clean mirror in the hall, tiled floor being so clean you could probably apply the three-second rule to the food if any was dropped on it. The apartment was too clean for your liking, she was cleaning again. Desperately trying to at least take that off your back. “Mom, don’t push yourself,” you sighed as you stepped into the living room and saw her lying on the sofa.

She looked… fragile… in pain, and you swallowed hard, remembering how healthy she was just a year ago. How did things change so quickly?

“Y/N,” she sat up, wincing and holding her back as she did so. “Hey, Sweetheart, how was your day?” she still gave you a gentle, loving smile as you set your bag next to the table and leaned in to kiss her cheek and hug her.

“Great, don’t worry about it,” you whispered and pulled out the medicine from the paper bag, pain killers, for her. Her back’s been killing her, so much so that she could no longer work.

She still went and cleaned the apartment because you just had no time to do it these past few days. The guilt gnawed at you, even if deep down you knew you physically couldn’t do everything.

You felt her hugging you tighter. “I’m so sorry,” she apologized to you on a daily basis, her voice quivering with regret. You couldn’t even begin to imagine how she felt, seeing you work two jobs to take care of her and try and ensure you could continue your education.

“It’s going to be okay, everything will be okay,” and like always you reassured her, fearing something would break if you didn’t. You let go of her and went into the bathroom to freshen up and then heat the dinner up. You weren’t doing bad financially, with just the two of you and owning the two-bedroom apartment instead of paying the rent you had a comfortable life. The issue was saving money for the future, primarily for your college education, and there was no telling if your mom’s health would deteriorate further.

“Alex said hi, by the way. His parents invited us to come over for dinner if you’d like,” you said as you got the lasagna out of the fridge and set the table.

“He’s a good kid,” your mom commented, and he was. Alex was about a year older than you and working at the library, where you met him. You hit it off fairly quickly, he was easy to be around, easy to talk to, cheerful and always willing to encourage those around him.

“So, will you go with me?” you asked, and she nodded, while leaving the apartment would be a bit of a struggle you knew it would be good for her to go outside and be around other people.

~X~

Astrid Deetz was many things, but here, in the library, she was just another girl. No one but the people that worked here needed to know who she was, so, at least here, she wasn’t a freak. She was just another girl reading books. The library allowed coffee to be brought in, as long as the one bringing it was responsible for any potential damages and wasn’t borrowing one of the more valuable books that couldn’t easily be replaced, which was why she preferred reading here instead of going home.

Summer vacations forced her to spend time at home, with her mother, so, the more of that time she could spend away from home the better. Especially since Rory was often at her mother’s house. She was actually surprised he didn’t move in yet, but maybe her mother wasn’t completely blind after all. Who was she kidding? It was only the matter of time before he manipulated her mother into moving in.

Eventually she felt the need to go and grab a bite, so she got up and went to return the book only to see a rather annoying sight and freeze on the spot. There you were, the one flaw of the library she was currently in.

You were currently talking to a tall, blonde girl that looked ridiculously smitten with you, listening to every word you spoke as if you were solving all of life’s mysteries for her. How naïve did the girl have to be to get fooled by the soft, easy smile on your face and patience as you helped her find a new book. And you? Leading the poor girl on, knowing she didn’t really need help and being completely aware that she was just trying to flirt with you. Cruel pain in her ass, that’s what you were.

Luckily, she noticed Alex, your co-worker there as well and went toward him to return her book.

“Miss Deetz, hope everything was to your liking,” he greeted her politely, though Astrid noticed your mood immediately souring the moment her name was said. There it was, your true face. You hid it well though, and the girl blindly in love with you didn’t even notice the shift in your mood.

“Other than certain someone being here, absolutely,” Astrid didn’t even bother hiding her disdain for you.

Alex brushed it off and took the book back. “Good thing I’m here as well,” he said and Astrid wholeheartedly agreed.

“Chihuahua,” you faked a cough to hide the insult, and Astrid felt a vein pop on her forehead.

“Ignoramus,” she spat back and walked by you as you straightened your back, and she didn’t need to look back to know your eyes widened as you stared after her.

And she smiled, knowing she got a more genuine reaction than the girl a head taller than her ever could, no matter how much she flirted.

~X~

You were running on coffee and spite and simple need for money, otherwise you were sure you could fall asleep on your feet while you were washing the chisels and other tools Delia used. Tomorrow you could sleep in, relax just for a bit and recover from the grueling week. Morning job at Delia’s place, four hours, then summer art classes, preparing you for college. You were going to study architecture, hopefully to pursue your passion and design green and sustainable buildings.

And while working with Delia was helping you with your financial circumstances, it was also slowly letting you meet people, make connections and your life at least a bit easier in the future. Still, between working for Delia, the classes, and then the library you were away from home for roughly thirteen hours, which wasn’t exactly ideal for someone who just recently turned eighteen.

“Y/N, could you go and fetch new carving set I ordered?” Delia asked, well, it was more of an order, rather than a request.

“Now?” you asked as you glanced at the clock. You’d have to run again, and you’d probably still be ten minutes late, but work was work.

Delia must have followed your line of sight because she hummed. “No, pick it up on Monday,” she genuinely surprised you with that, she was usually a lot more absorbed in her own work to notice things like that.

“Thank you,” you smiled slightly.

“Architecture, right?” and she surprised you again, you didn’t think she’d remember a conversation you had several months ago.

You nodded and began drying the tools. “Green architecture, I hope,” you knew your eyes shone brightly as you said that. You loved talking about it, about how that was the future, the way to reach a compromise and protect the environment.

Delia looked lost in her thoughts for a moment and then she abruptly began laughing. “Hilarious,” she commented and shook her head.

You were confused, and frankly a bit annoyed, she didn’t strike you as someone who’d find it funny. Hell, she sounded a bit impressed when you first told her, so this reaction genuinely puzzled you. “What is?” you asked slowly, hoping your voice didn’t give away how you felt.

“Just how similar your views and goals are, yet you bicker all the time,” Delia pointed out and walked back to her sculpture, still chuckling every now and then.

You scowled, knowing exactly who she was talking about. The chihuahua that consumed the thesaurus and forced you to Google several words, ignoramus included. You should have guessed it basically meant someone ignorant. The damn infuriating pain in your ass. And Delia’s granddaughter, well, step-granddaughter.

And now Delia said you and Astrid had something in common.

Your day was ruined.

Beyond saving.

Well, maybe making Astrid Deetz lose her composure or force her to Google something would salvage your day, but how the hell were you supposed to make the walking thesaurus Google anything?

~X~

Work sweet work, well, compared to working for Delia. Sure, working for Delia was closer to your artistic side, but the library just had a charm to it that not a lot of places could compete with. The smell of old paper, layers of dust hidden from passing glances since the place was rarely properly cleaned. Not that you blamed anyone working here, you helped with the cleaning three times since starting to work here in the library, and your muscles ached at the mere thought of those times. Moving shelves upon shelves worth of books was not a fun activity. Still, the next one was still far off and perhaps you’d even be away from this city by then. Going off to study somewhere else, somewhere other than your hometown.

It was a slow day, and you leaned back, relaxing with one earbud in so you weren’t completely mentally absent from your workplace. You could just read, you likely will, in a bit, but you had a long sleepless night last night, studying and catching up on your art projects as well.

Eventually you cracked open a book about Renaissance architecture you meant to get your hands on for a long, long time, and now it was finally available at your workplace. Perks of working in the library, you guessed. Just as you were about to start reading the doors opening and a rather annoying girl walking in made your mood drop instantly. She didn't even look at you, just began looking through the shelves, clearly looking for something you could easily help her with if she wasn't so damn proud. You took a deep breath and walked over to the girl, at least you could get it over with quickly. "Deetz, what are you looking for?"

And she ignored you, completely, she didn't even go around you and instead moved with such certainty that you actually had to step back so she wouldn't walk into you.

So, she chose this approach today. It was either insults or pretending you didn’t even exist.

Infuriating entitled brat.

"This would be so much easier if someone worked here," she had the nerve to complain as your jaw dropped and you simply looked at her, flabbergasted by the girl's behavior yet again.

"Unbelievable," you shook your head as Alex came up to the two of you and you couldn’t be happier to see him jumping to your rescue.

"Hey, could you help me find a book?" she immediately asked him, and he looked between you and her with a raised eyebrow, as if he couldn’t already tell what was going on.

You just shrugged. "You're not invisible, good for you," you didn't leave yet, mostly out of spite. Astrid Deetz would not have the satisfaction of knowing she got under your skin, and she especially would not have the satisfaction of you backing away.

"What the- oh, you two are just playing another one of your games," he decided, completely ignoring the absolute dislike bordering on hatred between you and Astrid Deetz.

"I am not playing any games," you both said at the same time and huffed when you realized that.

"Would you look at that, you're in sync as well," he whistled as if he was trying to tease you.

"Bullshit!" you both denied it, once more at the same time and you just waved him off, though you were really tempted to flip him off, and went back to your desk. Pride and the damn Deetz gloating over her ability to indirectly annoy you be damned, you couldn’t stand being anywhere near her.

Eventually, your teasing, traitorous co-worker joined you. “She really likes reading, doesn’t she? And you���d think she’d be some rich kid who scoffs at the very idea of borrowing books instead of buying them, or even hate having the actual book in her hands instead of reading an e-book,” Alex commented, sounding actually impressed by the short annoyance.

You just grunted as a response, after all, you’d never admit you did notice what he just now pointed out. You noticed that from the moment you saw her, months ago, studiously going through several books seeking something rather specific. The unbreakable concentration impressed you back then, but back then you were blind to her actual personality. Still, if there were two things one could count on as far as Astrid Deetz was involved was that she hated her mother and loved reading. That being said Alex did not need to know you had any positive thought about the girl in question. You’d rather die than admit anything nice about the girl, even if deep down you did admire her love for books and reading.

“You’re not going to answer?” he probed for answers, though he should know better by now.

“I’ve got nothing to say,” you muttered and leaned onto your hand, if you could just avoid Astrid for the rest of your life, you’d be the happiest person alive, but no, you just needed to bump into her almost on a daily basis. Either in the library, or at your other work. Granted, it was mostly at the library, but sometimes she would drop by and visit her step-grandmother. That was, beside Delia sometimes getting ridiculous ideas, the only actual downside of your other work. Imagine your surprise when you went to work one day and saw Astrid there, you nearly quit right then and there.

“Yeah, cause she makes you Google new insult she hurls at you every other day,” Alex snickered, trying not to disturb anyone.

You groaned, facepalming as you leaned back in your chair. She really did make you Google things she said a lot. You still remembered Googling barnacle, her favorite word for you. Leave it to Astrid Deetz to declare you as something difficult to get rid of, when you’d do anything in your power to never see her again.

~X~

Astrid did not enjoy making trips to the parts of the town where her family might be, she seldom wanted anything to do with them, especially her mother, but it also began including her step-grandmother after she went and hired the worst possible candidate. You.

But, she had to go and visit a store a few floors above her grandmother so, here she was, in the elevator and certain she would not run into you the very next morning after your encounter at the library. She wasn’t that unlucky, was she? How she almost always ended up visiting during your shift was beyond her grasp. Maybe there was something in all the bullshit her mother talked about, and she was actually cursed with how often she encountered the one person she despised the most.

The elevator stopped and the doors opened, and she nearly didn’t look up to see who was coming in. She should have ignored it, should have stared at the wall or something, but no, no, she just had to look!

Astrid could not believe her misfortune as you, carrying a fairly big box, walked into the elevator one floor above her and so far down from her own floor so she would need to actually be in a closed space with you. And she despised the very idea of that. So, just as the doors were about to close she bolted outside.

"What the- that was reckless Deetz!" she heard you yelling. And if there was even a hint of worry in your voice it was absolutely because her grandmother would rope you into whatever funeral arrangement she would choose for her if Astrid happened to tragically pass away.

"Shut it!" she yelled back.

"Fucking chihuahua!" you cursed, and she could feel her blood pressure skyrocketing as the elevator went up. You and your awful nickname for her.

"Damn barnacle!" she yelled back loud enough for you to possibly hear her. She would have the last word no matter what! Insufferable thorn in her side that she couldn’t get out of her life no matter how hard she tried. And to make things even Delia occasionally mentioned you just to get a rise out of her.

Not that anyone needed to tell her anything, she knew you worked two jobs, for whatever reason. Barely any difference in age, yet such different circumstances. While Astrid could do nothing for the rest of her life and still be fine you apparently didn’t have that luxury.

And in those rare moments Astrid would actually notice you despite trying her best not to, she never once heard or saw you complaining about anything. She was actually the only reason for complaining you ever had as far as she could tell. So, while she could find it in herself to admit your work ethic was somewhat admirable, you still could go right back to whatever hell you came out of.

Because that is exactly what you deserved.

Hell.

Okay, maybe not hell.

But definitely not much better than hell!

~X~

You weren’t just annoyed, you were beyond pissed off. How reckless was that girl? “Yeah, I really need that on my consciousness,” you bit out, knowing you’d blame yourself if she ended up getting hurt just because you happened to get into the elevator when she was already inside it.

How were you even supposed to guess she’d be there?!

You opened the doors to Delia’s studio with your elbow and went inside, closing the doors behind you with your foot. You really should have just taken the stairs, but the box you were carrying would have been a pain in your ass if you went with that. Sore muscles might still be a better alternative to having this encounter with Astrid. “Chihuahua,” you gritted out through your teeth as you set the box down.

“Astrid?” you jumped when Delia suddenly spoke up.

You stared at her blankly, as if she needed to ask. She’s seen several of your and Astrid’s hateful clashes.

“She takes after her mother,” the older woman commented as you began pulling out different art supplies from the box.

You had no idea why Delia would even tell you anything about Astrid. You did not need to know, didn’t care about knowing. “I find it hard to imagine anyone could be as infuriating as her,” you frowned, causing Delia to laugh, almost delighted by the comment. Lydia seemed okay, a bit paranoid and utterly blind to her boyfriend’s true intentions, but otherwise she was nice. You couldn’t imagine Lydia being anything like Astrid when she was younger.

“Oh, you have no idea. I reckon Astrid’s attitude is karma finally paying a visit to Lydia,” she sure sounded certain of that claim and you just hummed, internally feeling sorry for whoever had to deal with Astrid being their karma. That seemed like a rather cruel and unjust punishment.

“Mr. Deetz won’t be joining us today?” you asked, noticing the absence of Delia’s husband, though you asked the question mostly to avoid talking about Astrid.

“No, no, he went bird-watching,” she dismissed and you nodded, knowing just how much the man loved doing so, even if it meant traveling the great distances. It was admirable, really, to see someone as old as he was still being passionate about something to that extent. You could only hope you’d have as much energy as him and Delia when you reach their age.

~X~

That night you stood in front of the canvas, a bit of paint smeared on your cheek, an old white shirt you were wearing and your hand. You held your paintbrush as you observed a fairly accurate painting of the Durham Cathedral. It’s been about a month since you started working on the painting, using what little free time you had to work on it, and here it was, finally complete. You set the brush and colors down on your table and sat down, just looking at it with a smile on your face.

You really wished you could go and visit it. You actually had a lot of places you wanted to visit, to study, to touch the old buildings, feel their history and the flow of time coursing through them. The flyer on your table caught your attention and you reluctantly picked it up. It was an ad, seeking volunteers for planting trees. You sighed, massaging your shoulder and wincing at the dull pain in your muscles. You had two days off, you should rest, but you already knew you’d go, you couldn’t help it, that was how you were.

So, knowing you’d go there early in the morning you went and got ready for bed, hoping the shower would relax your aching body.

~X~

“What the fuck?” Astrid halted in the middle of the park, hoping it was just the summer heat. Yeah, that had to be it. The heat was making her see things. It was your damn day off, wasn’t it? Why were you in the park digging a hole for a tree?

Astrid narrowed her eyes, furious at everything. At your shirt clinging to your arms. At the drop of sweat you just brushed off your forehead. At the concentrated look in your eyes and the focus and the way you still had the energy to come and volunteer despite working two jobs.

“Barnacle,” she hissed under her breath and went to the other part of the park, as far from you as she possibly could go while still doing her part as one of the volunteers.

A/N: So, tell me what you think and if you’d like to be on the taglist?

Masterlist / Next Part

[soup-spoonn]

The weight of the world

A certain scene taken from this post by @medusas-graveyard

:D

(Kinda a long part, no TWs :3)

Danny had been living with the Wayne’s for about two months now, and they have long since found out about his Ghost King status.

He’s been exhausted, what with his king responsibilities, batfam responsibilities, and the Wayne kid responsibilities.

King responsibilities are the worst of them all though.

He started down the hall, hearing Dick say, “where’s Danny at?”

“Alfred replied with, “young master Daniel is still resting, and will be with us shortly.”

Then Damian chimed in begrudgingly, “he acts like the most fatigued person here.”

He opened the door to the dining room saying, “convincing actual gods not to destroy humanity is fatiguing, Dames, give me a break.” He ruffled Damian’s hair, who slapped his hand away, not quite registering Danny’s words.

“Danny, what?!” Dick asked incredulously.

“Nuthin’ important,” he said, yawning and stretching widely, his sharp canines bearing for a moment.

He then dug into the plate of food Alfred brought him, ignoring the concerned looks shared around the table.

-

“So, Danny, wanna talk about what you said earlier? At breakfast?” Dick asked, being the fourth person to today.

“Mmm… no.” He said, for the fourth time today.

“Uhm, well what you said was… concerning to say the least.” He said, trying to convince him to talk.

“Mmm… no.” He repeated shortly.

He wanted to tell them about it, but he knows how his newfound family gets.

When something bad could happen, they all jump to conclusions and start worrying and checking in and spying on you.

It’s sweet really, but unhealthy as hell.

Not to mention annoying.

Nope, Danny is not up for the weeks of stalking. Damn his sleep deprived brain.

-

“Danny, we need to talk.”

Lovely. Bruce himself is asking to talk.

“Mmm… no, thank you.” He was more polite, as he literally owes this man his life and afterlife.

“Danny.” He said, and Danny stopped in his tracks at the seriousness in his voice.

His heart literally stopped.

“I’m sorry, but I already said all that’s important! There’s nothing else to be said.”

“Maybe, but you should’ve said something. Is that why you’ve been getting home late the past week?”

“Uh… yeah. Sorry, B.”

“It’s not your fault, but you’re too young to have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“Who isn’t though? And anyway, I’m used to it! You know, one time I brought the entirety of my hometown back from the ghost zone? Not without help, but still!”

Bruce looked taken aback, and replied with, “that’s not a good thing to be used to, Danny.”

“There’s no turning back time. Except for Clockwork, but he can’t change this timeline.” He said with a shrug.

Bruce shook his head, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

“Danny, you should probably talk to your siblings, they’re very concerned.”

Danny heaved a sigh, “think I could just tell Dick? He’s the most approachable. And he likes gossiping, thinks he’s sneaky. It’s hilarious.”

“Yeah, that should suffice.” Bruce responded with a sigh, walking away afterwards.

-

An hour later, Danny told Dick about the thing with the gods and all that, and Dick looked ponderous, and asked, “how do you convince them? And which gods are they?”

Danny turned pink and rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “I showed them my memories of you guys… they’re sometimes super nice, and they need a reminder of humanity and their kindness at times… you know?”

Dick looked like he was gonna cry.

“You! Use memories of us! To save the world?!”

“… yeah…” Danny replied, still pink.

“Awwe! I’m gonna tell everyone!”

Danny let out a sigh as Dick skipped off happily, then he continued to his bedroom and closed the door.

He sat in his room at his computer until dinner, then afterwards he returned.

Until it was dark out.

-

One thing Danny really doesn’t like about Gotham is the fact that the smog over the city makes it so he can’t see the stars at night.

Sometimes he just… goes ghost and flies to above the city, above the smog, and the death, and the pain and misery the city harbors.

He doesn’t tell his family, but he’s ninety percent sure Jason already knows.

He sat in his airy sanctuary, gazing up into the stars longingly, feeling his core vibrate happily.

The stars are so incredibly beautiful and bright.

Danny smiled softly as he felt another presence floating over to him.

Superman.

He turned to the large man, who often joined him in his stargazing, to talk about life.

He’s probably told Superman more than he has Bruce.

About GIW, his responsibilities as Ghost King, his parents and Jazz…

He misses Jazz so dearly.

The two sat in silence for about two minutes, until Superman spoke first, “how’s life going, kid?”

“…I miss my sister.” He said calmly, still staring blankly at the stars.

Superman didn’t share much with Danny, as he likes just helping the boy with his troubles.

He knows of his family, who attacked him three months ago when he told them his secret.

He then traveled toward Gotham, to try to escape the GIW and his parents.

Jason then found him in Crime Alley, about to be attacked by a gang, and took him to Bruce to keep him safe.

Clark knows now that the boy lost everything he loved, and was hoping to be ended by the gang, so he could go back to the stars. (As he said)

Bruce and his family gave him something to live for, and he took a while to trust again after the two very people who raised him tried to hurt him out of- what, fear? Rage? Curiosity? It baffles Clark what their reasoning was for attacking their son.

“I know son, and I bet she misses you too.” He said, offering him the smoothie he brought for him.

Danny accepted gratefully, sipping on the smoothie- ooo strawberry!- as Superman smiled, and his Justice League communication device vibrated, disguised as a watch, and he sighed, looking at the message sent by Batman.

“Sorry, Danny, I have to go, you know, Justice League stuff.” He waved and started toward the closest zeta beam.

Danny sighed, supposing that he might as well go home and to bed, as he hadn’t brought his phone this time.

-

“Danny’s not in his room?” Tim asked, “ where is he?”

“I don’t know, he left his phone here!” Dick replied, panicked.

“Hey guys, what’s going on?”

“Danny! You startled me! Where were you?!” Dick asked, spinning around to look at him.

“I went on a walk.” He said calmly.

“We’re in Gotham, you can’t just go on a walk.” Jason replied flatly.

“I… I do that sometimes.”

“Whatever…” Jason said, defeated.

“Anyway, we’re gonna play mario kart, wanna join?” Tim piped up.

“Sure!”

Danny and Tim walked off toward the game room together happily.

-

After Jason kicked everyone’s asses at two games, then teamed up with Dick for the third, everyone was too bummed or pissed to play another round and went to bed.

Dick stayed, as he said he wanted to have a conversation with Danny. He was nervous, but complied.

I will probably continue this but idk :Þ

[themoonweaversden]

All 179-244 (or so) codes that were found so far (no spoilers)

Note: As far as I'm aware if you input any word after selling your soul to Bill and press the knob you'll get the same result. I still think it's important to highlight the ones that didn't have any result once you imput them normally the day the website updated (AUDIOLOG, BUBBLES, CLEAR, CONTRACT, SMALL) these may have been just an error since it has been fixed since then

#

3466554

29121239168518

333 Sundapple Lane Cozy Creek IL 60714-94611

A

ABUELITA

ADASTRAPERASPERA

ALEX HIRSCH / ALEX / HIRSCH

AM I BLANCHIN

ANSWER

AXOLOTL

B

BAAAA

BABY / BABY BILL / LALALALALA / MOMMY / DADDY

BILL / BILL CIPHER / CIPHER / ILLB / LLIB REHPIC / REHPIC

BLACK SHEEP

BLANCHIN / BLANCHING / BLANCH

BLENDIN

BLIND EYE

BOOBERRY

BURN SIDE

BURNED INSIDE

BYE GOLD

C

CAESAR ATBASH VIGENERE / MULTILEVELMARK

CARD

CARYN

CIPHERTOLOGY

CLONE / TYRONE / PAPER JAM

CONSPIRACY

CRAY CRAY

CRYPTOGRAM CODEX

CURSE WITTEBANE

CURSED

D

DEATH

DEER TEETH

DESTRUCTION IS A FORM OF CREATION

DIONARAP

DIPPER

DIPPY FRESH

DISCO GIRL / BABBA

DISNEY / MICKEYMOUSE

DISPENSE MY TREAT

DIVORCE / BREAKUP

DORITO / NACHO / CHIP

DUCHESS APPROVES / THE DUCHESS APPROVES

DUCKTECTIVE

E

EASTER EGG

EMMALINE BUTTERNUBBINS

EUCLID / SCALENE / SCRIMBLES

EUCLYDIA

EVEN HIS LIES ARE LIES

F

FAMILY MATTERS

FBI / CIA / NSA

FILBRICK

FIXINIT1

FORD / SIXER / STANFORD

FORDTRAMARINE

FORGET THE PAST

FUCK / SHIT / BITCH / SLUT / SEX

FUCK YOU ALEX

G

GIDEON

GIFFANY

GLASS SHARD BEACH

GLOBNAR

GOD / HELP ME / SAVE ME / FRILLIAM

GOODNIGHT SALLY

GRAVITY FALLS

GREBLEY HEMBERDRECK

GUN / THE GUN

H

HAROLDS RAMBLINGS

HECTORING

HEY NERD

HISTORY

HOLOGRAM

HORROR / CREEPYPASTA / ANALOG HORROR

HOTXOLOTL

HOW WILL I DIE / WHEN WILL I DIE

I

IM STILL ON YOUR MIND

IRREGULAR

IS HELL REAL

IS THERE AN AFTERLIFE

J

JOURNAL 1

JOURNAL 2

JOURNAL 3

JUST BLEND IN

JUST FIT IN

K

KINGS OF NEW JERSEY

KOOK

KUBRICK

L

L IS REAL 2401

LIAR LYRE

LIES

LIFE

LOVE / BOYFRIEND / LONELY

LOVE YA BRO

M

MABEL

MASON

MATH / GREECE / SHAPES / GREEK / PLATO / GEOMETRY

MCGUCKET / FIDDLEFORD / OLD MAN MCGUCKET

MEOW / MEOW WOW

MONSTER

MORALITY

MOUNTAIN DONT

MYSTERY

MYSTERY SHACK

N

NAITSUAF

NO

NOT A PHASE

NOTHING

O

OCCURREMUS ITERUM

OH YES THEY BOTH

ONE EYED KING

OROBOROUS

OWL TROWEL

P

PACIFICA

PAPER IS BOOK SKIN

PEAK

PINATA

PINES

PLATINUM PAZ

PORTAL

Q

QUESTION

R

R34LITY

RAT

REALITY

RIDDLE

ROBBIE

RUBBERHOSE

S

SCARY / SPOOKEMUPS / SPOOKY

SCIENTOLOGY

SEASON 1 / SEASON -1

SEASON 2

SEASON 3

SEVEN EYES

SEVERAL TIMES

SHAVE YOUR GRANDMA

SKELETON

SKIBIDI / FORTNITE / ELON / CRYPTO / DOGE / GYATT / RIZZ

SOMETHING

SOOS

SORRY

STAN / STANLEY PINES / STAN PINES / STANLEY

STOD EHT TCENNOC

SUCK IT MERLIN

T

TAD STRANGE

TANTRUM

THE BOOK OF BILL / BOOK OF BILL

THE DUCHESS APPROVES

THEORY / MATPAT

THERAPRISM

THEYLL SEE / THEYLL ALL SEE / I SEE

TINSEL SNAKE

TITANS BLOOD

TJECKLEBURG

TOBY DETERMINED

TORTURE MENTALLY

TOURIST TRAP

TRIANGLE

TRIGONOMETRY

U

UNIONMADE

UNIVERSE

UNREALITY

V

VALLIS CINERIS

VIRUS

W

WADDLES

WEIRD

WEIRDMAGEDDON

WELL WELL WELLBEING

WENDY

WHICH RELIGION IS RIGHT

WHO ARE YOU

X

XGQRTHX

XYLER / CRAZ

Y

YES

YOU CANT KILL AN IDEA

YOURE INSANE

Will update if more are found

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Reunion

Summary: A short sequel to 5 Times Natasha Came to Rescue Y/n, plus the 1 Time She Didn't Arrive In Time

Authors note: Someone on Wattpad really wanted this and it inspired me to get some writing done for once lol. So here is a small drabble

Word Count: 809

Natasha Masterlist Marvel Masterlist

    Natasha wakes with a jolt and finds herself laying in some grass looking up at the outstretched branches of a nearby tree. This causes her brows to crease as confusion settles in. She's not sure why or how, but she knows this isn’t right. This isn’t where she's supposed to be.

   She sits up to further take in her surroundings and is shocked to see nothing but rolling hills and bright blue skies. The sound of moving water nearby has her shifting her gaze to find a stream. The sight of the water has her realizing just how dry her mouth is so not knowing what else to do, she figures she might as well quench her thirst.

   As she sits up she's struck by just how sore her entire body is. It feels like she's done every exercise in the Shield training manual before sparring a few rounds with Steve. She shakes off this feeling though and trudges forward towards the stream. As she settles on her knees in front of it she notices just how clear it is, and as she dips her hands in they are met with a coldness that only comes from mountain water. 

   She cups them together and eagerly brings them to her lips, letting the refreshing liquid make its way down her parched throat. She takes a few more sips before rising to her feet again, and she looks around once more. What had she been doing to end up here? There was a mission, wasn't there? No. No that wasn’t right, it wasn’t a mere mission. What she was on was so much more than that and was incredibly important. 

   Suddenly a sharp pain makes its way up her spine that nearly takes her to her knees, and the back of her head throbs with such an intensity that she cries out. She braces the back of her head with her hands and grits her teeth as she tries to figure out what's going on. And as the sun catches on the arrow necklace that dangles from her neck, it all comes rushing back. 

   She had been with Clint on a planet called Vormir. A sacrifice was required to gain the soul stone, and she hadn’t let him be the one to jump. She remembers he had tried to save her though, but she hadn’t let that stop her. She had fallen. Which means…she had died. She swallows harshly as she looks around once more. Did that mean…was this the afterlife? 

   She's almost certain that it was, but she can’t ponder on it too long as the sound of footsteps gains her attention. She's not sure who or what she had been expecting, but the person she sees walking towards her exceeds all expectations, and she can already feel warm tears dripping down her cheeks.

   “Y/n!!” she shouts as she runs straight at you, she practically throws herself into your arms and her embrace has enough force behind it that you both go tumbling into the grass below. The feeling of your arms around her once more after so many years has a sob escaping her, and her hold on you tightens as she buries her face in the crook of your neck, “After I lost you, I was lost too. Everyone wanted me to try to move on, but I just couldn’t detka(baby), and I didn't want to either. You were, and still are my everything. I love you so much.”

  But she didn’t have to say any of that, the pair of wedding rings you’d seen dangling from the same chain as Clint's arrow charm had already told you that. You turn slightly to nuzzle your cheek against hers, “I love you too, Tasha. And while I missed you more than I could ever describe, I would have waited even longer for you”

   “I’m sorry” she mumbles, not wanting you to be upset with her 

   “Don’t apologize Natasha, please.” you assure her, “You were so strong, my love. And so brave. What you did…you saved the world”

    She moves her head back enough to look at you properly though her vision is still blurred by tears, “It worked, then?”

   You nod as your hands move to cup her face, “You did it baby, everyone's home now”

   She lets out a tearful relieved chuckle and smiles at you so softly that you can no longer hold back. Without a second thought you bring your lips to meet hers for a kiss that you waited years for, and Nat, who thought she’d never get to experience this again practically melts against you. And she knows then the truth of your words, because not only was half the universe returned home but she was as well. You were her home, and had been the moment she realized she loved you.

Taglist:@wandaromamoff69 @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife @natashasilverfox @when-wolves-howl @danveration @naomi-m3ndez @sheneonromanoff @sayah13 @likefirenrain @nighttime-dreaming @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece @readings-stuff @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @wackymcstupid @xchaiix @iaminluvwithnat @lovelyy-moonlight @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito @yomamagf @yourfavdummy @justarandomreaderxoxo @scoutlp23-blog @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145 @eline03 @wizardofstories @imthenatynat @marvelonmymind @fluffyblanketgecko @bitch-616 @dakotastormm  @zoomdeathknight @rayeofmoonlight @aeroae @sashawalker2

[sol91]

Lena

"Lena Luthor?"

A man stood before Lena. He was in his 50s, balding, and wore a pair of thick spectacles. He was staring down at a clipboard.

"Here we go— Lena Luthor, born October 24, 1994," He said.

Lena looked around. She was standing in a featureless white void, nothing in sight except herself and the man in front of her.

"Where am I?"

"Where—" The man looked up at Lena. "Have I not given you the— hold on". He flipped a few pages on his clipboard and began reading in a dull monotone. "Welcome to the afterlife. Yes, you are dead. No, this is not heaven. No, this is not hell. I am a higher dimensional being here to help place you into an appropriate afterlife experience. No, I am not an angel. No, I am not a demon. Please hold all questions until the end." He flipped back to his previous clipboard page.

"If you're a higher dimensional being, why do you have a British accent?" Lena asked.

"Oh, we find this process goes faster if we present as someone you find slightly irritating." He said, "Fewer questions this way."

"Why does it matter how long it takes? Is time even real here?"

The man looked up from his clipboard in irritation.

"Okay fine, sorry. Continue"

"Thank you. Alright, let's see what you got up to." The man began mumbling off events in Lena's life one after another. "Moved to National City… saved the world from your mother… very good, very good… helped save the world that time as well… black Kryptonite, hmm…"

Lena stared incredulously at the being who would decide her fate.

"…then you trapped your soulmate in some sort of castle on the south pole…"

"Hold on, who says she's my soulmate?"

"…even though she was just trying to help you…"

"Do soulmates even exist?"

"Yes, they do." The man said factually, looking up. "Says she's your soulmate right here" He turned his clipboard around to face Lena. The page he had been reading from was completely unintelligible to human eyes, a mass of incomprehensible symbols and characters that swirled and shifted across its surface. The man turned the clipboard back around, apparently satisfied he had proven his point, and returned to mumbling his way through Lena's accomplishments.

"…attempted to reprogram the consciousness of everyone on earth… well, everyone needs a hobby I suppose but that wasn't very…"

"I was trying to help." Lena protested "Trying to fix humanity."

"That was your first mistake." The man said without looking up. "And then you were killed by a…" The man flipped to the next page. "Space laser. In a secret mountain hideout. Well, might as well go out with a bang."

"Is my life just a joke to you?" Lena was starting to raise her voice. "Who are you to judge me anyway?"

"It's my job." He said, still not looking up. He seemed completely unfazed by this outburst.

"It's easy for you, you don't know what it's like down there." Lena was yelling now. "I had nobody. My whole life, I was alone. The only person who ever stood up for me, ever believed in me at all was Kara, and I—"

Lena paused as her anger melted and settled into a pit in her stomach.

"—and I hurt her. The only person who was there for me."

She turned away from the man and stared off into the void.

"My soulmate."

Lena collapsed into a sitting position.

"Kara."

Noticing that Lena had finished talking, the man began to explain something about evaluation criteria. Lena had stopped listening. She considered taking off into the void, looking for some way back, some way to fix things. But she knew it was futile. She was dead. She was—

Lena's train of thought was cut off by the sound of a phone ringing. Lena looked up. An early 20th century wall telephone had materialized in midair next to the spectacled man. He didn't seem particularly surprised, but stopped talking and picked up the earpiece.

"Hello?" He said, still sounding bored. "Yes, she's here."

Lena stared up from what was either the floor or the ground, depending on if boundless voids counted as outside.

"What?" Now he was surprised. Irritated, even. "The Lazarus Pit? I thought we agreed to stop giving them ways to do this."

Lena tried not to enjoy his frustration.

"What do you mean grandfathered in?"

He sighed in exasperation at whatever his colleague was saying on the other end.

"Fine. But you're doing all the paperwork for this." He said finally, hanging up the earpiece with slightly more force than necessary.

"Alright." He said, looking back at Lena, "Some soulmate you've got there."

"What?"

"Off you go." Said the man, and clapped once. Everything went dark.

Lena opened her eyes. She was floating in cool water, staring up at iridescent blue light dancing across a dark cave ceiling. A pair of strong arms supported her floating body, holding her head out of the water.

"Lena?" Kara's concerned voice echoed around the cave.

"Kara." Lena tried to straighten up but found herself sitting in Kara's arms, looking up at her soulmate.

"Lena, are you okay?" Kara met Lena's gaze "I thought I lost you. I'm sorry—"

"No, I'm sorry." Said Lena, cutting Kara off. "For everything. Can we start over?"

"Of course we can." Kara said softly. "Just stay with me."

Lena rested her head against Kara's shoulder and breathed deeply. "Always." Lena promised.

[hopelessdazai]

✿ 》 Will you talk to me again?

╰⧼ 🪻 note.. ⧽ ; I don't expect this to do well because its not smut but it'd be nice !! reblogs appreciated, support your creators :)

╰⧼ ☀️ features.. ⧽ ; dazai x gn!reader, WC ; 784

╰⧼ 🌙 contents.. ⧽ ; angst, reader isn't alive, letter from dazai. he's trying very hard to keep himself stable but it's not working™.

To my dearest ______ .

It's been a while, hasn't it? I hope you don't mind me writing to you like this, it's simply been too long. I'm sure you're still angry at me, so seeing you physically isn't my best interest right now! haha, I'm sorry. you know I'm just joking around, don't you? I'd love to see you in person. I'm sure you would've punched my arm if you heard me out loud right now, wouldn't you? I'm glad I'm spared of the bruises.

what does someone put in a letter? that's what I was asking myself before I even began writing. I decided that the best way to do something like this was to just write whatever I feel true as pen touches paper. I hope it makes sense to you, at the least. if I'm pouring my heart out on some paper only for it to be misunderstood, it feels like a waste, no?

though, i'd be lying if i said it wouldn't be rather cute to see you try to fathom what I mean. did you know you scrunch your nose like a bunny sometimes when you're reading? I'm sure you're doing that now too. you'll get wrinkles very at this rate ..

but anyway, I managed to prank kunikida the other day! you remember that hair dye trick I'd told you about? I managed to break into his apartment and swap out his shampoo, at last! he came into work the next day with black hair, it was hilarious, you should've been here! he was so angry with me. beat me black and blue!

oh, _____. I got a new heated blanket for our bed, you know? it took a while to save up for it, and I had to cut out some other necessities, sure. but it makes everything so much better! I hate cold beds, I'm sure you know that better then anyone. haha, back before we moved in together when I'd break into your apartment and crawl into bed with you. I'm sorry for the amount of locks I broke, but your place was so cozy!

... you know, it's been really hard without you here. I miss you so painfully, and I don't mean to call into the void without even an echo, but its killing me to pretend I'm fine about any of this. I'm not fine with this, how am I supposed to be? I wish it was just a bad dream.

I don't want to have to write letters to you anymore, ______. I don't want to have to buy heated blankets to try and stop my arms from aching for your warmth. I don't want you to be angry with me, I'm sorry I didn't apologise to you before you were gone. I shouldn't have been so stupid.

i had so many words on my mind that I was too afraid to say. maybe if I faced myself and told you 'I love you' it would've stopped you leaving.

have you met odasaku yet? has he told you any stories of his time? I wish I could hear your voice again. I wish you could answer my questions. even to hear you scoff at my stupidity again would heal me. I'm sorry I was annoying, I just wanted your attention. it stings knowing I'll never get it again.

I can't keep repeating to myself that you're not gone. I can't keep buying your perfume and pretending that you're in the next room over. your pillow doesn't smell like you anymore.

I wish I could apologise properly. I wish I could've stopped you from leaving the house that night. I wish I could kill myself to join you and yet I know we won't cross paths again in the afterlife. you were always too good for me, ______. i was nothing compared to you.

i picked up a homeless dog yesterday. you'd always wanted a puppy, I'm sorry I never let you bring one home. I named it after you. im trying to get used to them, I promise. if I couldn't save you, I'll save your name.

I'm sorry. if I continue writing, my throat will hurt more. its strange, isn't it? crying makes your throat sore. I forgot what it was like for a while, I remember laying in your arms wondering if I'd ever have a reason to cry again. now I can't seem to help myself.

keep your wings clean for me, white looks good on you. its a shame you couldn't wear the wedding attire i wished to see you in one day. you would've looked amazing.

I'll write again, missing you is the greatest honor.

sincerely, your osamu.

[sorceresssundries]

Until We Wake

Pairing: Gale/Tav

Warnings: Talk of death, afterlife, angst.

Word Count: 1000 words

A/N - I wanted to try and write something different, and move away from my usual overly-descriptive style.

I hope you like it <3

You are dead.

It was easy in the end. Like taking off a coat you’d been wearing too long.

There’s no confusion. You know you are dead, and it’s okay…Was okay? Is okay? Time is strange here. Slippery.

You are sitting at the edge of a great lake. Well, not really sitting, not really by a lake, but that’s how it feels. There is no sunshine, but you can feel the warmth of it on your—skin? No, not skin. There isn’t any skin. There isn’t a body at all. You just… are.

It’s nice, actually.

“God?” A voice, though not a voice, fills the space around you.

“Erm, no. Sorry. There may be one around somewhere, though,” you reply.

You sense a kind of exasperation.

“No,” it says, more insistently. “Which God is yours? Who did you worship?”

“Oh!” That’s funny. If you had lungs, you would laugh. “I didn’t really worship one.”

The silence that follows is heavy.

You’ve probably given the wrong response and are now going to drift here for eternity in silence. That doesn’t seem so bad. There’s peace in it.

“But, uh, I felt close to Selûne. I knew her daughter, actually. Aylin? I saved her once—no, twice! From an eternal cycle of ritual torture and sacrifice. Twice!” You pause, waiting for the weight of your heroism to settle in. “Can you write that down? Are you writing things down? I don’t really know how this works.”

“I am not writing things down.”

“Right. Okay.”

More time passes—seconds, hours, centuries. It is hard to tell. If experience has taught you anything, it’s that you should probably be a little hesitant about listening to mysterious entities who appear in your unconsciousness. But, for whatever reason, you have no doubt that you’re safe.

“Who are you?” you ask.

“Nobody.”

“Oh.” Another eternal pause. “Sorry, I don’t know what that means. I know you don’t have a body. I don’t either. What I meant to ask is... what’s your purpose here?”

“To help”

“Ah.” You think about that. It feels distant, though, like the thought isn’t entirely yours. “Can Withers bring me back? He usually does.”

“No. Not this time.”

That’s alright, you realise. Everything ends.

“Can you tell me how you died?” the voice continues, unhurried.

If sadness existed here, you would feel it.

“I failed somebody. I couldn’t convince him he was deserving enough to live. He sacrificed himself. I stayed with him.”

“Gale Dekarios,” comes the response. Even now, even here, the sound of his name warms you.

“Yes! That’s him! Have you met him? Is he here too?”

“He is not.”

You pause, a moment of confusion or relief, it’s hard to say. Perhaps he’s with Mystra.

He had followed her order, hadn't he? He had used the orb. Perhaps he was cradled back in her starlit palm. Perhaps he was finally fulfilled.

“He’s probably with his Goddess,” you say, matter-of-factly.

“He forgot his Goddess. At the end, he thought only of you.”

Right. He had said something like that once. On a boat he had built out of hope and stardust. It felt like a lifetime ago. You wish you had said more to him—something different. You should have been more convincing, made him see he was more than magic, more than martyrdom. He was kind. Funny. So very human.

Not anymore.

“Will I see him again?”

“Maybe”

This voice that’s not a voice is not hugely helpful. It feels distant. Somehow big and small. Like many voices, or none, all at the same time.

“I let him down,” you whisper, though no sound leaves you.

“He forgives you.”

What do they know of Gale? This mysterious spectre. Maybe it’s just your own thoughts, your desperation, trying to clutch at forgiveness. Maybe death has splintered you into fragments of yourself whispering back and forth. Maybe the afterlife is nothing more than talking to yourself in the quiet, with no one left to answer. A conversation in circles, where you are both the call and the response.

“You loved him" they say. It isn't a question.

“I did. I do. I always will.”

It's lucky you don't have a heart. It would be in splinters.

“Would you like to try again?” The voice offers.

Your thoughts pause, grasping at the idea. “You mean, go back? To the start? Is that possible?”

“Sometimes. Under certain circumstances.”

A chance to try again. At what? Saving Gale? Having a better life? A better death? Eventually finding your way back to this place, with no regrets holding you back?

You would like that.

“Will I remember this?”

“No.”

“Will he?”

“No.”

You could have had this conversation hundreds of times before, or perhaps it is the first and only. It is impossible to know.

“Ok. Yes, please.”

You can feel the pieces of yourself starting to come apart, like threads of a tapestry being unspooled by the oldest and gentlest of hands.

You reach out for those delicate, golden threads on instinct, but they slip away, and it is hard to know whether you are letting go of them or they are letting go of you.

Scratch the Dog. Karlach’s laughter. Night Orchids. Sunlight on scarred skin. Homemade cookies. Gale. Magic. A kiss.

You try to hold them tighter.

“How do I know I won’t make the same mistakes all over again?” you ask.

“You don’t,” the voice that wasn’t a voice says.

A silver sword. A man with horns dancing. Pipe smoke and bear fur. Taverns and temples and soft touches. Gale.

You’re trying to hold so many of them, you have to let others go. What is your name again? How old are you? Who were your parents?

Moonlight through shadow. A boat on make-believe water. A hand in yours. A purple dagger.

“Will I still be me?” You’re no longer sure what that means.

“That depends.”

The lake that wasn’t a lake, the warmth that wasn’t the sun, all of it begins to fade. You feel yourself pulled away, or maybe pulled together. You aren’t sure which—you just know you’re going somewhere, somewhen.

The voice speaks a final time as everything ends. As everything begins.

“Who are you?”

[somerandomdudelmao]

Cass please cass wait cass CASS I’m DYING AHH GOD the idea of Leo having been the last to die, to have died thinking (knowing) he was directly responsible for at the very least Raph and Mikeys deaths, and that he KNEW he'd be dying with essentially no ninpo, no spiritual connection and thus no real hope of joining his family in any sort of afterlife, that all those goodbyes were forever — the idea of him waking up and just ...everyones home, home and healthy and whole UGH CASS IM CRYING 

(would he even believe it? would he think its a krang trick? god how do you heal from that kind of end? he ran towards it, he got his kid out and then turned back to continue a fight he already lost. everyone was dead, Donnie and Raph and April and Mikey, everyone else had given up everything— Mikey burned away for the slightest hope and Raph gave the resistance his heart and Donnie wore himself down to nothing, not even a ghost left— and Leo wanted to go that way too i think, giving everything, fighting for time like he wasn’t the last one standing, like there was anything left to fight for. Because to do anything less would be to discredit his brother’s sacrifices. How do you wake up from that? How can anything ever be okay again? How do you believe that you can wake up to a happy ending, hug your brothers, hold your son, see your father? A krang trick? It must be. Which means he was captured. Which mean did not die. Which means he failed. The world is dead, the krang have won, and Hamato Leonardo was not even able to match his brothers in death. He asked his baby brother to burn, and he has failed. How do you move on from that. How do you believe anything except the echoing certainty that there is quite literally nothing left to lose, and your own wretched, wailing anger?

Well. If he cannot honor the price he made his family pay, maybe he can at least make the memory of Donnie (not a spirit, there is no spirit, you cost him his soul) smile by finding the nearest Krang and unleashing Hell upon the sorry bastard. Yeah. i just. Cass i am STRESSED.)

I..uh..fuck I can't talk about this because of spoilers kvdkbf

But in general

Mikey and Leo went through the same hell, but at the end, when all they could hope for was gone, Casey showed up. And he said he could help them. Save them.

The difference between Mikey and Leo is that Mikey heard and understood him. So Mikey has a strange time too, realizing that everything is okay again. But he knew it would get better.

While Leo remained in a state of lostness and fear

[shankss-magnificent-ass]

Imagine intentionally making Sabo cry

I wrote this while a little intoxicated as I was catching up with the latest one piece episode. I didn't remember most of the Revolutionary Army members' names in the moment, so I improvised. I have elected to keep the improvisations while including the actual names because I found them funny.

That steampunk cat-looking MF (Lindbergh): oh no, Sabo got poison in his eyes. We need to wash it out!

Goth dude (Karasu): we don't have any water!

Sabo: that's okay guys I'll just die, I wouldn't want to be a bother. [Wiping tears on his sleeve]

Koala: [has an idea] We need water to get the poison out of his eyes, but he has the water in him! He needs to cry! Quickly everyone! Say something sad!

Giant bearded school girl (Morley): dead puppy

Flag bitch (Belo Betty): dead vibrator

Sabo: [snorts] Guys, stop, I'm fine, really.

Koala: no like, it has to be really personal. Like Robin told me, she missed you the most out of the two of us.

Sabo: she did? [Clearly moved]

Dragon: [touches Sabo on the shoulder] he told me the same thing.

Sabo: Guys, I told you I'm fine.

You: I think we'll need to pull out the big guns. I was saving this for if we ever became enemies, but here we go [squats down in front of Sabo and fixes him to the spot with direct eye contact]

Sabo: (⁠⑉⁠⊙⁠ȏ⁠⊙⁠) / / Oh?

You: Ace died thinking he'd, finally, get to see you again in the afterlife.

Sabo: WTF (Y/n)! {starts bawling]

Dragon: [stares at you quietly] ... Well damn

Ivankov: Well, we need to get you to cry, Sabo.

Sabo: I'm a literal fire-man, this poison is from a plant, it just burns up in my eyes! It has no effect on me!

You: then why are your eyes so red?

Sabo: It was because there was ash in them, but now it's, also, because you ripped out my heart!

You: ... Sorry

List of Up-and-coming works || Master list || Twitter| Kofi || Patreon

[deathbxnny]

Anything for Natlan. Everything for Natlan. (Mavuika x GN!Reader)

A/N: As promised, here is the one-shot I spoke about! My health is unfortunately still very bad, but I'm desperate to write something and therefore hope you'll like this guys!<33

Content: Heavy angst, spoilers for the Natlan quest!, vague death of reader, hurt/no comfort, sfw

Reader has no set pronouns!

((Not proofread))

"So this is it? That's all you have to say?!" You stand on the steps to your once shared home, body trembling from the anger that coursed through you. The moon was high in the stary night sky, which reflected in your tearful eyes Mavuika had to turn away from. She was at a loss for words, unsure if there was even anything more to say. Because there truthfully wasn't. She had made up her mind whether you liked it or not.

"All these years we've spent together, all the promises we've made, this ring-" You held your hand out towards her, and you knew she could imagine it glinting in the moonlight beautifully as it always did. "-did it mean nothing to you? Nothing at all?" She didn't necessarily ever expect you to understand. If anything, she was glad that you were so angry, so enraged. It made things easier.

It made the reality of your situation easier.

She was leaving, planning to reincarnate in about 500 years to save your home from its demise. It was a hard feat, and it didn't mean that it could work out in the end. The world could still end, and the Abyss could still take over Natlan. Everything could have just been for nothing. But she needed to proceed with the plan anyway. It was a risk she was more than ready to take.

But you both knew that by the time she returned, you would be dead. Just like the rest of her family and friends here.

Mortality was beyond her now. She had found a way to cheat death and bring back hope to everyone. Except for you. It would be selfish of her to ask for you to understand, right? You wouldn't, and you couldn't, bare to let her go. You didn't care about tomorrow or the day after it if she wasn't there with you. And what would you do in her absence?

She imagined you slowly withering away as the years went by, sitting on the steps leading to your house whilst you wait for her return. Once you die, you'll search for her in the afterlife, only to realise that she had never even entered it. Would you feel betrayed then, too? You didn't know the extent of her plans. You were no warrior. You were a fleeting simplicity she deeply yearned for but knew she could never have as Natlan's Archon. You were her ultimate sacrifice. The one thing that tethered her to what she once was, to who she once was. To the mortal you married.

When did things go wrong? Why did she have to be the one to take on the burden of an unstoppable war? Why did she have to give up everything so that her friends could continue living their life's with their families? Why couldn't she do the same?

Hanging her head in shame, she heard her own heartbeat pounding in her ears, her breath short and unsteady as the doubts crept in. "I'm sorry. I don't expect you to understand." She finally said, and silence followed. It wasn't good enough. Nothing she told you now would be good enough. "You... mean the world to me." She still didn't turn around. Her heart couldn't let her do so. She'd never leave if she did. "And for that reason, I need to make this sacrifice. Natlan will never be free otherwise... and I'm sure we will meet again one day. Under the stary night, just like the first day we met."

"Many hardships await us from here. But I know you'll make it. You're strong, far stronger than I." She straightened up again, a deep, shaky breath leaving her lips. It was time. "Mavuika! Don't you dare leave me, I can't - " The woman began walking away calmly, her face devoid of any emotion but determination as she relished in the last remnants of your voice. "-I can't live in this world without you, I beg of you to stay damnit! Please don't leave me! Mavuika!" And yet, for some reason, you didn't chase her down. You didn't stop her from leaving. Deep down, you ultimately understood what she was doing. You were always so intelligent, so smart. You were the only one to truly get her. But even that wasn't enough. Your heart belonged to her, and she was willing to toss it in the flames, too.

Mavuika never turned around to face you that night, and you never stopped her either. You were the last person she said her goodbye's too before proceeding with her plans. Her heart wavered for a split moment, but she knew that this was fate calling out to her. This is life. Complex and ruthless as ever. Her emotions and past didn't matter, only what she was willing to sacrifice did.

Centuries later, she found herself beginning to hate hearing that word.

"Oh! We get it... so who is that?" Paimon's voice rang out, cutting through her mind as they stared at a picture of you and her family together, smiles bright and happy, unaware of the doom that would follow you soon. She chuckled at the question, eyes trailing over your face for what felt like the millionth time, and yet she could never get bored of it. If only she could remember what you sounded like...

"That... was my lover. I don't really know what happened to them after I left... but I believe they became a writer." Or at least, that's what she could gather from the small records that were left of you from 500 years ago. You had left your tribe and traveled all over Natlan. Your records and stories were still used by historians and tribesmen alike for retellings. But the only book she was able to get her hands on that proved all of this was the final book you wrote after having returned to your old home.

Paimon and the traveler glanced at each other with a solemn look, not knowing what else to say. The Archon's way to glory was tragic and painful. It was beyond them how someone could give up everything so willingly. And yet they had no time to ponder, as the next part of their to save Kichina plans came up.

Mavuika stayed behind, her hand carefully brushing against the worn-out book, which rested next to picture frame, not needing to open it to read it. She had memorized every sentence, every word, every letter. Sighing to herself, she knew that she'd have to sacrifice the last of you with it. This was all she had left.

But even you, once you reached your late 70s and settled down once more after years of travel, understood the meaning of her sacrifice at last. Walking away from the book and the picture frame, she recited the last paragraph in you ever wrote, deciding to leave her past at that. Guided through your own final words.

"And if Natlan one day can bathe in the scorching sun undisturbed and free from the hate of the Abyss, then I'd say my pain was worth something after all at last. I wasted decades looking for an answer to why you did it, Mavuika, and even now, my heart struggles to understand its loss. But one thing is clear now. One thing that we both knew from the start:

Anything for Natlan.

Everything for Natlan.

And may that never change until the last flickers of the sacred flames burn your heart and warm your face, just like I once did."

[greenandsorrow]

I'm really curious about how you think Alastor would handle a deaf sinner (revenge plot gone horribly wrong). The reader is staying at the hotel.. actually, it'll probably be challenging for everyone! Reader (f/gn) can read lips fairly well, but when Alastor does the whole "face made for radio," shtick his mouth doesn't move.. can't be threatened if you dont know what's said. It looks weird, though! Reader uses a phone to communicate mostly due to convenience, doesn't use signs because deafness comes as a bonus with death, also carries a pen but rarely paper so ends up writing notes on arms. Habits that linger from life are low self esteem covered masterfully with sass and sarcasm, humming and singing to themselves, remembering perfect pitches and how they felt to sing, can also match pitch by matching a vibration and drumming or tapping hands when needing to focus or is anxious.

Platonic relationships all round, not looking for romance here, just a place to belong for a bit, familial/sibling ribbing and sass!

I'm sorry in advance if it is a lot, but you do ask for details!

"This face was made for radio."

The Hazbins with a deaf!sinner!reader

You'll never forget the day you landed in Pentagram City. The world around you on mute... It will always stay carved in your memory... the way you had screamed until your throat ached and then had come to the conclusion that even though your voice worked fine, your ability to hear hadn't come with you to the afterlife.

Your sass did save you on multiple occasions that your lack of hearing left you with double the insecurity you carried from your days on Earth. The good news is that, eventually, you learnt to read lips and use your phone to communicate, making your afterlife a bit safer and easier.

However, some -Charlie- would say that your biggest achievement is willingly asking for residence at the "Happy Hotel"! It was a welcoming change to the constant battle of survival, that the streets of the City of the Damned are.

You have your own room and belongings. You have access to food and even made... friends. With your little notepad and pen you scribble your thoughts and answers when interacting with them. In all honesty, you like your new neighbours more than you ever thought you would.

And the feeling is mutual amongst y'all.

You enjoy how Charlie is always putting on a show and how she sings more than she talks. Not only that, but she makes sure to let you know how impressive it is that you can match the rhythm of her songs, by tapping your fingernails on your notepad.

Vaggie makes an effort so you're always safe and that was before you even got close. She's a bit overprotective in your opinion, but then again... kindness in Hell is scarce and more than appreciated.

Seriously though, you're not handicapped, but it's no use explaining it to her.

Even the famous Angel Dust speaks slower when addressing you. Just like Vaggie, he's protective of you. It's rare for Angel to try to not make a fellow sinner uncomfortable.

In a way, the spider demon has adopted you and Niffty, concerning himself with your wellbeing. You want something but don't have your pen on you? He's willing to play pantomime just to make sure he can provide it to you.

And then there's Husk. The bartender is surprisingly gentle when it comes to you. Caution mixed with fondness. He doesn't mind that you speak too loudly in the rare occasions you use your voice. He doesn't mind having to wait for you to write down your jokes. He actually enjoys your company more than he lets on.

Just a detail, you became part of the crew around the same time Sir Pentious did. Consequently, in the beginning you two kind of stuck together, both seen as newbies.

You're so grateful for how he still washes your arms from the ink of your trusty pen.

To put it into a few words, all families are colorful and yours is no exception. Dysfunctions, disagreements and some sappiness are all part of your every day life. But the Hazbin Hotel has become your home and that's all that matters.

Noticed how I overlooked a very special sinner??

Yep. That's right. Alastor.

The radio demon didn't pay you much attention when you first moved in. You have come to the conclusion that your lack of hearing just underwhelmed him.

He's the radio demon. Sound is his weapon and you're immune to it.

Obviously, his animated personality didn't go unnoticed to your observant eyes. Still, the old radio effect of his voice, the static he produces and all those flamboyant aspects of him are thrown out of the window when it comes to you.

He can't intimidate you. Not that he's tried. Not yet.

You have kept to yourself and maybe even subconsciously avoided him during your settlement in the hotel. It's not out of fear. But what fun is a fellow sinner that speaks more than he moves his mouth? Thank Lucifer he's expressive, otherwise he'd be muter to you than you're to yourself.

And that permanent grin doesn't help either. You've discreetly been relying on his shadow's expressions to make out what's going on in his antlered head.

Today is no different.

He's just stranding there. Black cane, an ignorant and simultaneously arrogant aura, the same infuriating smile and Pentious's egg-bois around him.

Meanwhile, you're sitting in the lounge, inspecting a very 2000's looking camera. It's a way to kill time, watching your surroundings through the lens. At some point the camera lands on Alastor's figure.

It immediately starts glitching.

You burrow your eyebrows in confusion. When you look again, Alastor isn't where he was a few seconds ago.

You sigh.

"What do you think you're doing there, dear?"

Silence. No reaction. You keep looking through the camera at the place Alastor occupied just a few moments ago.

Alastor narrows his eyes. He's standing almost next to you.

But of course you didn't hear him.

The intensified static in his voice... wasted.

He clears his throat loudly, but to no avail.

Eventually, he gives in and taps your shoulder. You blink, lowering the camera to your lap and looking up at him, head slightly tilted.

Taking in your expression, Alastor secretly enjoys the animated scrunch of your brows, a clear indication of confusion.

He's not saying anything, so you shrug to yourself and absentmindedly focus the camera on him once more.

Alastor's eyes narrow with a sadistic glee as the camera suddenly breaks, fume coming out of it, the lens now cracked. You drop it, a bit startled but not on the degree he was hoping.

You don't bother standing up but you do glare at him in exasperation.

"Well, well... Aren't you a brave one?"

Finally! Something you can make out coming from his razor sharp jaws.

You pop the lid off your pen, but before you have time to write "What's that supposed to mean?" on your arm, he has already dimmed the lights and leaned down so he's at eye level with you.

"Let me tell you something while we're at it."

His neck bends unnaturally and his eyes turn black. It's not exactly a sight to enjoy, but it doesn't matter since you're too focused on trying to read his lips.

"This face was made f......"

For?

For what?

What could it have been made for?

His mouth stopped pronouncing the words before the sentence was finished, so it's not your fault that you're chuckling now.

Alastor's chest literally deflates at your reaction.

His ears droop.

It wasn't even full on laughter but his pride took a big hit.

While he's frozen in shock at your lack of fear, you finally scribble down at the back of your hand "Was made for what?"

You extend your hand for him to read with an apologetic gaze. He does look kind of wounded.

Alastor takes in your words and accepts that you didn't laugh at him on purpose. Not to humiliate him at least.

Placing a gloved finger under your chin, he makes you look at his face before speaking slowly, moving his lips almost comically.

"This face was made for ra- di- o."

You let out an "oh" of realization.

Your eyes have a new light of interest in them as you write down your answer.

"I used to listen to that, when I was alive."

"Mhm, that's a pleasant piece of information my dear!"

From that day on, every time before he broadcasts, he makes sure to give you his notes to read, even making them more elaborate just for you.

For him, the only downside of your loss of hearing is not being able to enjoy his radio show.

At least you now get along.

Hazbin Hotel masterlist ❤️

Tips are highly appreciated! (PayPal)

Shout-out to @buggieluv79 for helping me with the deaf POV 💌 I also want to point out the fact that the wonderful being that made this request is both kind and patient, having waited three months for me to write this and supporting me in the process❣️

I'm open to writing for a deaf!reader again, whether you want it to be the same person we met in this fic or a different one. (Wait till reqs open again please!)

[thegoldencontracts]

hello!! this is my first request!! can u write azul saving reader from drowning and gets angry at them out of worry? not realizing that he confessed to them just now until it sinks in?

Hiii sorry this took so long! This concept is sooo good, hope I managed to do it justice aughhh

Because-!

Summary: Azul saves you after you fall into the Octavinelle pool. You're just hoping he doesn't expect repayment- Wait, why is he so upset?

Notes: There isn't much focus on the feeling of drowning, but there's still some. Anyways, hope you enjoy! Also, credit for the divider here!

If a Darwin award existed, you were really one of the prime candidates to win it, it seemed.

You'd fallen into a pool. Actually, that was fairly normal. There was a very real risk of people falling into pools, that was why most public pools hired life-guards.

Octavinelle's pool, however, didn't abide by that policy, and so there was no one around as you'd fallen in. The panic was setting in at a rapid pace.

You couldn't breathe. Water was filling up your lungs, and you couldn't even cry out for help, and you couldn't breathe-

A splash. Someone was in the pool. Were they- here to save you?

They were approaching - closer, and closer. But you didn't get to see whether they saved you or not, because before they could even get near you, your vision went dark.

You woke up. That was good. Were you- in the afterlife or something? The silver-haired boy above you did seem angelically pretty, after all...

"You're awake."

You felt your face heat up. Nevermind. You were very much alive, and that guy you just called pretty was, in fact, Azul Ashengrotto, Octavinelle Housewarden, your crush, and maybe your friend. The jury was still out on that one. Azul never really admitted his friendships, but he gave you free stuff, so that was probably a good sign.

Would this be free, though? Even with Azul's "no free lunch" mentality, this seemed a bit too far.

"So," you started, voice hoarse. "Do you, uh, need something."

Azul looked at you for a second, expression all too void of emotion. Then, he spoke.

"What exactly were you thinking?" He demanded. "Approaching the pool in spite of your lack of ability to swim is the height of foolishness! If you truly wanted to come here, you should've simply asked me to accompany you!"

An uncharacteristically enraged Azul yelling at you was definitely- something to wake up to.

"I almost died- dude-"

"Precisely!" Azul said, eyes still burning with rage. "Were I not there, you wouldn't-"

He sighed.

"Don't do something so foolish again."

That was it? Azul Ashengrotto, not even expecting repayment? Weird.

"Listen," you said. "It's awesome that you care, but I can handle myself. I've learned my lesson."

"You quite nearly died," Azul said through grit teeth. "What if that happens once more, without me there? You'd die! And even if it weren't for my love for you, I simply cannot have-"

He cut himself off at the realization of what he'd just said. You took a second to process it too. Azul- liked you?

The universe had taken pity on you! Your crush liked you back!

"I- er, forgive me," he said, turning away his head in shame. "I suppose I got a tad carried away. Please, just allow me to accompany you the next time you come here."

"Why don't you also accompany me on a date sometime?" You said, before you could stop yourself. Azul looked at you in shock for a second, before clearing his throat.

"Are you being serious about this invitation?"

You nodded.

"Dead serious."

"Then," he said. "I'd love to accompany you."

And though you could sense he still had a lot more chastising to you, that you hadn't yet escaped scolding, nor the physical consequences of almost drowning, you couldn't help but feel oddly warm inside.

It seemed you'd found a silver lining here.

[jessamine-rose]

⋆˚♱ଘ Annular Eclipse ଓ♱˚⋆

A long time ago, I binge-watched The Ancient Magus’ Bride and that decision came back to haunt me in my Church AU…… *evil laugh*

As always, thank you to @diodellet for beta-reading this piece!! And to my dear mutuals, I hope you all suffer enjoy the sinful story of Cartaphilus! Pierro x Angel! Darling ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭

Tw:: yandere, blood, violence, death, suicidal ideation, religious abuse, MDNI

Note:: fictional depictions of religion

♡ 5.7k words under the cut ♡

♡ Among God’s creations, His favorite is granted a special fate. Though all lives end in death, only humanity is blessed with salvation and afterlife. Those who live righteously may thus ascend to Heaven, whereas sinners are condemned to eternal suffering in Hell. There is, however, one exception—a fragment of humanity whose sins may never be forgiven.

♡ Legends speak of Khaenri’ah, the nation of sinners. Once the pride of humankind, its citizens challenged God through their creations in alchemy and technology—and the entire nation was subsequently destroyed in a sea of flames. In the wake of the Cataclysm, pollen from the Tree of Life rained down upon the survivors, afflicting them with their final punishment, immortality.

♡ Since then, Khaenri’ahns have roamed the mortal plane in a perpetual state of living. Denied a place in Heaven and Hell, they are cursed to live forever no matter what harm befalls their body and psyche. Due to their wicked reputation, they must also live in fear of their once-fellow humans, lest they face persecution. For this reason, eternity differs among Khaenri’ahns, with a unique fate reserved for the one who goes by the name of Pierro.

♡ After the Cataclysm, Pierro led a group of survivors to Snezhnaya where they established a new home. For three centuries, it was a peaceful haven hidden from the divine gaze of God and the Church…until it was exposed by a traitor and destroyed with manmade flames. In the ensuing chaos, Pierro was the sole “survivor” in the sense that he managed to escape. The rest were critically wounded, buried alive, and left to suffer for all eternity.

♡ Having lost his second home, Pierro began a search for other Khaenri’ahns, only to be further disillusioned. Many communities had also fallen to ruin, if not from persecution but by their own madness. Others, blinded by dreams of death, had resorted to violence and witchcraft in their fruitless attempts to break the curse. And several individuals had embarked on quests for the Tree of Life, only to disappear far away from their homeland. In two more centuries, Khaenri’ah was reduced to a forgotten myth, and Pierro had lost all hope for his people.

♡ So when he gets into an accident, he sees no point in saving himself. If he were younger, he’d be horrified at the thought of falling off a cliff. At best, he’d end up with more scars albeit another permanent reminder of his tragic fate. As for the worst-case scenario, he’d become paralyzed, trapped below the cliff, doomed to eternity as a living corpse. But now, hanging off the edge by his fingertips, he considers the possibility that his head takes the brunt of the impact. A coma would be the closest thing to a reprieve from his waking hell.

♡ Just as his grip weakens, a hand reaches out and catches his wrist. The action is so sudden, so forceful, that Pierro has no time to think before he is pulled up and his back hits the grass. Above him, eclipsing his view of the sun, is the face of a stranger. A tearful expression. A kind gaze that seems to pierce through his soul.

“Are you hurt? Why didn’t you call for help?! You poor thing, I’m sorry for only seeing you now.”

“I am…” He averts your gaze and instead focuses on the sky. It is the color of twilight—a harmony of blues, oranges, and reds that pale in comparison to the crimson skies of his nightmares. “...fine. Thank you for your kindness.”

♡ Once the shock wears off, Pierro takes a careful look at his savior. You have the appearance of a typical human, roughly the same age as he was when his body stopped aging. Definitely not a Khaenri’ahn, given your lack of cursed marks and star-shaped pupils. Neither are there any religious symbols on your clothing, which is a relief. As for your tears shed on his behalf…he’ll chalk it up to pity.

♡ At your insistence, you treat him to a meal at the nearest inn. When Pierro introduces himself as an ordinary traveler, you make a similar claim and suggest journeying together. It is a tempting offer—the both of you are alone with no destination in mind, and you seem harmless. So against his better judgment, Pierro accepts your proposal.

♡ Over time, he warms up to his new companion. You are kind, competent, a bright presence in his life. Traveling with you is like seeing the world with new eyes—you lead him to bustling cities, picturesque forests, places teeming with life. The only downside is your visits to the Church for prayers and chats with the local priests, but you at least seem to be an open-minded believer. You always tell Pierro that he doesn’t need to follow along but he does so anyway, if only to evade suspicion and admire the religious art with you.

♡ Other than that, you don’t reveal much about yourself. But you aren’t one to pry into Pierro’s past so he gives you the same courtesy. At times, he finds himself looking at you fondly, feeling a spark of physical attraction, dreaming of a happy future with you. But those delusions are always dashed by the fact of your humanity, so he instead resolves to cherish what little time you have left before death claims your soul.

♡ That was his goal until he begins to notice certain…oddities. It’s common for the two of you to share a tent, a room, sometimes even a bed. Neither of you are fazed by it, especially when Pierro’s main concern is concealing his cursed marks with makeup. But a few months into your travels, he makes a quiet realization: In those nights of shared slumber, not once has he fallen asleep without feeling your gaze on him.

♡ At first, he assumes that you merely sleep later and wake up earlier than him. But every time Pierro wakes up in the middle of the night, you immediately sit up and tend to him, acting as energetic as usual. Neither do you appear lethargic after nights when it is difficult to sleep. So he puts it to the test by regularly chatting with you late into the night; you always follow along, not once sounding tired nor in want of sleep. Once, he talks to you all night long and in the morning, while Pierro is plagued with fatigue, you look perfectly awake. And only when he subtly points it out do you yawn and go back to bed.

♡ Other mysteries follow. There is the time the two of you trekked through a barren wasteland and ran out of food. It took you two days to reach civilization and while Pierro was starving, you never complained about hunger. If anything, you still managed to walk and fight off beasts at your usual energy levels. And on the rare chance that Pierro is injured, you are the one who treats his wounds…and they always heal at an unnaturally fast pace.

♡ A year into your travels, he decides to look for answers. One night, he shares a bed with you and feigns sleep. For the next few hours, he just lies there and takes note of your unnatural way of sleeping—no slowed breaths, no involuntary movements, yet the persistent feeling that he is still being watched. Shortly after midnight, he pulls out a dagger from under his pillow and aims it at you.

♡ It was only a test to see if you’d react quickly and reveal your ruse. Which is exactly what you do, eyes fluttering open and your hand catching the dagger before Pierro can stop short of stabbing your chest. The look on your face is calm, utterly devoid of fear, and you make no move to leave the bed. You just stare at him with the same piercing gaze.

“Good morning,” you tell him. “Are you going to explain the sudden wakeup call? I don’t believe this is rooted in any Khaenri’ahn practices.”

At the mention of his homeland, Pierro’s grip on the dagger tightens. “So it appears that my suspicions were not unfounded. Answer me, are you a spy of the Church?”

Your answer is a benevolent smile. A soft light shines from your body as a halo—silver, pierced with nails—appears behind your head, followed by a wispy veil. Luminous wings emerge from your back, caging Pierro in a feathery embrace.

Your hand, marked with a bloodstained scar, wraps around his wrist.

“I’m your guardian angel,” you whisper.

♡ Technically, your statement is untrue. In a calm voice, you explain that Khaenri’ahns can’t be assigned guardian angels due to their immortality. Moreover, most angels harbor contempt for his kind though you are a rare exception, having taken pity on Pierro and chosen to become his unofficial guardian. The last part triggers an offended response—are you mocking him?

♡ As for your true nature, you’re the leader of the Archangels. As an angel of the Third Sphere, you are one of the closest to humanity, a divine messenger with the additional tasks of providing blessings and guiding humans towards the path of righteousness. Only, you’re currently on a ten-year “break;” it just so happened that you noticed Pierro at the start of your sabbatical.

♡ Once he is confident that you won’t smite him in cold blood, he goes to sleep—it’s been a long night and fatigue will only dull his senses. When he wakes up, he can almost believe that last night’s events were a dream…until you loom over him in your true form, wishing him a good morning. After a long conversation, he decides to continue traveling with you. That way, he can keep a close eye on you and gain some useful knowledge.

♡ Thus resumes your journey. In addition to Pierro’s distrust, there are major changes to your dynamic. You still travel in your human guise but you switch to your true form when it’s just the two of you. Since angels don’t need food or sleep to sustain themselves, you stop eating with him unless you’re in public. At night, only one bed is needed and you simply watch over Pierro, wishing him a peaceful slumber. Your gentle gaze is always the last thing he sees each day, though it takes months before he can fall asleep comfortably.

♡ He also learns about your nightly pastimes. As it turns out, while Pierro is asleep, you like to fly around the city to help lost souls. Just small acts of kindness in your human form…and if needed, divine interventions in the Church. It explains why he often wakes up to news about corrupt priests who experienced “visions of an angel” and publicly confessed their sins.

♡ Along your journey, you also stop by the homes of the humans previously assigned to you. At the beginning of each visit, you go to the cemetery and speak to their grave. Afterwards, you bring Pierro to their favorite places and reminisce about their lives. When he asks why you can’t simply see them in Heaven, you give him a sad smile and explain that the deceased reside in a realm beyond the jurisdiction of angels. In a paradise where every soul is purged of sin, what use is there for an angel’s guidance?

♡ You mourn the lives of angels as well. It comes as a shock to Pierro, the idea that even an angel is susceptible to death. To which you explain that many of your divine siblings were killed by demons. And because afterlife does not exist for spiritual beings, both species simply cease to exist once their lives have ended. As for your former brethren, they cut all ties with you after their descent.

♡ Slowly, Pierro grows to trust you again. It helps that you were able to prove yourself a year later by saving him from your own kind. Granted, he could suspect that it was merely an act but the sight of a Principality cowering before you, their cassock staked to the floor by silver nails, is quite convincing. Not to mention your cold gaze overflowing with wrath.

“So tell me. Why exactly did you attack my dear human?”

The room is silent, save for the younger angel’s whimpers. To think that a few minutes ago, Pierro had been sleeping peacefully. Now he stands beside you, blood trickling from a cut under his scarred eye, still gripping his unused sword.

“I…” Despite being a rank above you, his attacker is clearly terrified. “But ______, that man…he is one of the accursed sinners! He—”

“Now, now.” You kneel to their level but all kindness is lost in your tone. More nails appear out of thin air, all pointing towards the angel’s body. “Look me in the eye when I am talking to you.”

♡ In the end, the angel kneels before Pierro and begs for forgiveness. He accepts their apology, but not without harsh words and a swipe of his sword against their face. After they leave, you worriedly turn to Pierro and heal his injuries. Thanks to your powers, all of his wounds close up without a trace. Still, when you take your hand off his face, what he sees in the mirror is not his healed cheek but the cursed marks exclusive to Khaenri’ahns.

*✧･ﾟ

“I’m sorry,” you whisper.

Despite the nature of the attack, you are the one acting emotional. A tear rolls down your cheek as you trace the cursed side of Pierro’s face.

“You need not apologize on behalf of your brethren,” he mutters. He glances at his right arm, sleeve pulled up to reveal a similar pattern of blue veins and blackened skin. “...or your Heavenly Father. And I believe I’ve told you countless times not to waste your tears on me.”

“Still.” Shaking your head, you look him in the eye. “How can I not cry every time I gaze into your soul? I wish I could save you, put an end to your suffering…but it’s beyond my capability.”

“So why do you still devote yourself to me, ______?”

______. It is the false name you go by in the human realm, spoken by every person who has known you as their guardian angel. As for your true name, it remains a mystery to Pierro.

Still, he’d like to believe that he is the human who knows you best. He knows that you are the First Archangel, one of the oldest beings in existence. He knows that you were opposed to the Cataclysm but powerless in stopping it. He knows that your decade of rest was caused by an accumulation of stress, an endless cycle of giving and saving and sacrificing which will only continue in a few years’ time.

And what then? At the end of your journey, will you still have time for him? Or is he truly cursed to drift aimlessly in eternal solitude?

His half-mask rests on a nearby drawer, a relic from his second home. He picks it up, thumb pressed against a painted gold tear.

“You astound me,” he continues. “You, of all people, know that salvation is forever beyond my grasp. And yet you continue to spare me absolute grace. Anyone else would have deemed me a lost cause.”

“That is because I love you.”

At that, Pierro nearly drops his mask. He turns to you, starry eyes wide with wonder. “Can you kindly repeat that?”

But the moment he sees your face, he realizes his folly.

“I love you,” you tell him, a soft look in your eyes, “as I love all humans.”

Has kindness ever sounded so cruel?

“...I understand.” He puts down his mask, pride shattered. “Such is to be expected from a being for whom the love for humanity is inherent.”

A love which he and his compatriots are no longer beholden to.

“But of course.” At that, your countenance turns reverent. Your wings fold inwards, and you place a bloodstained hand over your chest. “An angel’s purpose is to serve God and to save His creations. Beyond that, there is no other point to our existence.”

Silence. This time, Pierro doesn’t bother to hide his judgment.

“Well, that is our initial reason,” you add, noticing his expression. “After all, what’s not to love when your kind is capable of so many wonderful things? Really, you never fail to surprise us.”

“How so?”

“I’ll confess, many of us angels were once in awe of Khaenri’ah,” you admit. “Think of it: Your people found a way to create life, sorcery, powers that were once exclusive to God. Had I met you during your days as a royal mage, I surely would have been impressed.”

Hard to say. Despite his previous status, Pierro hasn’t practiced Khaenri’ahn sorcery in years. It’s likely that his powers have eroded alongside his spirit.

“Then only a century after the Cataclysm, there was the Angel-Killer who performed miracles using our flesh. As a matter of fact…I made the mistake of assigning his first victim to him.”

Your grief isn’t lost on him. The bed creaks as you take a seat next to Pierro, adjusting the chain of mourning lockets around your waist. It bears mementos of both humans and angels.

“Thirteen angels lost their lives to him, including two of my dearest siblings. Needless to say, we were all relieved when Il Dottore finally died, though I had to be given a century’s worth of rest to recover from grief. Sohreh, Pasithea, Oizys…I still think of them to this day.”

Il Dottore. He is an infamous figure in history, a priest whose sins rivaled those of Khaenri’ah. And yet even he was granted the mercy of death.

 “And there are the humans I was blessed to watch over,” you tell him, eyes shining with tears. “I remember all of their names, their smiles, every achievement they made in their short lives. And I’m sure that there will be more in the future.”

That is the final nail in the coffin.

“You are right.” With that, Pierro leaves the bed. “As such, there is no need for you to dwell on how the world is now. I have no doubt that many souls owe their salvation to you, ______, and anyone would be a fool to dismiss your efforts.”

“...Thank you. It means a lot.”

You don’t let him leave, however. A hand around his wrist is all it takes for Pierro to stop, to yield to your embrace. In the dim room, you are the only source of light, an idol of unparalleled benevolence. Divine, beautiful, yet never within his reach.

“Eight more years,” you tell him. In your eyes, his reflection has never looked more hopeful. “That is the amount of time we have left. And until then, I will never leave your side.”

*✧･ﾟ

♡ The next eight years are content. More travels. Deep conversations. Peaceful nights. Another angelic encounter, in which a subordinate merely reported to you and avoided Pierro’s gaze. At one point, you reveal to him that the Tree of Life is no longer in the human realm, eliminating any hope of breaking the curse. His devastation is softened by your comfort, and he can only imagine the reactions of his compatriots if they knew this truth.

♡ Not that he has anyone to share it with. In the Church of Fontaine, Pierro is surprised to recognize the head priest as a Khaenri’ahn. She is only a descendant and thus spared from the curse—a blessing for Arlecchino, a tragedy for her ancestor who likely mourned the generations between them. After their chat, Pierro leaves without divulging her lineage. It’s enough to know that one of his kind is leading a fulfilling life, though he finds it ironic that a Church ended up in a Khaenri’ahn’s hands.

♡ Other than her, there is the familiar face he spotted in Inazuma. Blond hair, blue eyes with star-shaped pupils, a distinctive half-mask…but before Pierro can approach Dainsleif, you grip his wrist and enable him to see the eagle-winged demon clinging to his former comrade. In a fearful whisper, you explain that she is one of Hell’s strongest demons, the slayer of countless angels. And when she turns in your direction, Pierro feels the weight of her crimson-gold glare. In the end, the two of you walk past them, preventing what could have been a bloody reunion.

♡ As your sabbatical reaches its end, Pierro finds himself making the most of your remaining time together. He smiles at you, holds your hand first, asks you more personal questions. Your travels also end in a surprise destination—a forest near Snezhnaya, concealed with divine mist. Leading the way, you explain that it was a meeting place for you and your closest siblings until they all perished, including the Virtue who created it. And when you turn to Pierro, asking if the area suits him…he accepts the gift with full gratitude.

♡ The last year is spent constructing a humble house in the heart of the forest. On the day of your departure, the two of you enjoy a final meal together. It’s bittersweet with recollections of your travels, though the mood dampens when Pierro asks about your angelic duties. With a sad smile, you tell him that you have a lot of work to do. At some point in your journey, you even laid eyes on a young human and applied for a position as their guardian angel.

♡ At midnight, Pierro goes to bed and you wish him good night for the last time. He only closes his eyes when you disappear, when he no longer feels your gaze on him, when the residual warmth of your embrace has been chilled by the night air. When he wakes up in the morning, you are nowhere to be found.

♡ In the following months, Pierro develops a new routine in the forest. Hunting, foraging, visiting the neighboring cities, admiring the aurora-colored sky, even practicing his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. He doesn’t see you again but there are hints of your visits—a luminous white feather, seeds for fauna exclusive to Mondstadt, a wound that healed overnight. Eventually, he gets used to sleeping in solitude again.

♡ One day, he decides to visit his old home. He knows it is futile to seek out his people; after two centuries, their bodies must’ve fully decayed and mixed with the soil. Still, he might as well see what the Church did with the area…and if he can take revenge on the traitor. So he packs his bags, leaves the forest, and travels to the other side of Snezhnaya.

♡ …There’s nothing left. When he reaches his destination, he finds a glorious city built over the mass grave of his people. Only the cold of eternal winter welcomes him back, but the entire city—the devout Snezhnayans, the stories of the city’s origins, the magnificent church in place of his old house—is unfamiliar. Not even the traitor remains. Perhaps they, too, were given a coffin, forever trapped below layers of ice and concrete.

♡ He gets an answer on his way back to the forest. Near the border of Snezhnaya, Pierro is ambushed by a group of heretics…and when he demands an explanation, their leader holds up a preserved eye, the pupil shaped like a four-pointed star. As their fight continues, Pierro deduces their motives—to achieve immortality using the flesh of Khaenri’ahns. It’s pure mockery to hear those fools refer to his curse as a blessing, but his warnings fall on deaf ears as he is outnumbered.

♡ Just as he is about to lose hope, a bright light shines above him. It’s you, in all of your angelic glory, commanding the heretics to let him go. Most of his attackers fall to their knees, in awe of your divine presence, but their leader interprets it as a sign that Pierro is truly the person they’re after. They swing their sword at him…only for their entire group to be impaled by your nails.

♡ It’s a bloody sight. But once your wrath has subsided, you fly down to Pierro and check his condition. You’re incoherent, healing his wounds with trembling hands, apologizing for your late arrival. He assures you that he is fine, only to be interrupted by a sudden ray of light. But this one is blindingly bright, coming from the sky, the same holy light which shone upon Khaenri’ah during the Cataclysm.

♡ It hits him just then: In harming those humans for his sake, you’d violated one of God’s orders. Yet in the midst of His divine wrath, you muster a false smile and tell Pierro to go home. Then you fly up into the sky, disappearing above the clouds along with the holy light. He does as he is told, but not without killing all of the heretics to ensure that they won’t come after him or more Khaenri’ahns. As for the traitor…he doesn’t bother to ask for their location.

♡ The forest is the same when he returns. The next few hours pass by in a blur—unpacking,  checking the animal traps, cooking dinner, and so on. The whole time, he can’t stop worrying about you. He doesn’t know if God would listen to his prayers but he tries, anyway; it’s not like he can help you in any other way.

♡ He goes to bed early, only to jolt awake when a flash of light illuminates the bedroom. When he rushes to the window, it’s just in time to see a falling star. It shoots through the sky, outshining the auroras, a beautiful sight if not for the fact that it seems to be drawing closer to him. It disappears from his range of vision, followed by a deafening sound and a severe earthquake. Then the world falls silent, returning to its tranquil state.

♡ After a few minutes, Pierro leaves his house to investigate. Seeing how the meteor bypassed the divine barrier of the forest, he doubts it was a natural phenomenon. You once told him that the Fourth Order of angels, the Dominions, are in charge of the celestial bodies—could they have been ordered to destroy his third home?

♡ Thankfully, the destruction is limited to a crater at the edge of the forest. But instead of a meteor, he finds you curled up in pain. Fragments of your halo pierce your body. Your right wing is gone; all that remains of it are clipped feathers and sawed bone. Most prominent are the curved horns jutting from your head, covered in a mix of blood and torn skin. You became a demon.

♡ Your half-conscious cries prompt him into action. Carefully, Pierro carries you to his house and treats your wounds. When he notices your hand on your stomach, he remembers what you said about demons needing food and sleep to survive. So he heats up some soup and feeds it to you; and once your hunger has subsided, he tucks you in bed. In your delirium, you can only muster a single sentence before falling asleep.

“Pierro? I’m sorry…it’s my fault, not yours.”

“Silence. We may talk tomorrow. But tonight, you must rest.”

♡ That night, you sleep for the first time. Pierro watches you all night, checking your pulse every so often. When you wake up, the sun is high above the sky and Pierro has already cooked lunch. You’re more coherent now, able to feed yourself, though you wince in pain every so often. And when Pierro asks about your descent, your expression darkens.

♡ In a shaky voice, you explain that the heretics’ ambush had been a test from God. It was fated to occur at the same time as an important event in Heaven, the decennial meeting between God and the leaders from all Nine Orders. As soon as Pierro’s name was brought up, you were quick to defend him. And when you were informed of the attack, you stormed out of the meeting to save him, fully aware that it would bring about your downfall.

♡ And despite it all, you’re the one apologizing to him—for your late arrival, for the danger he was put through, for the “burden” of taking care of you. At the last part, Pierro finally finds the words to chastise you, to say that you won’t achieve anything by wasting your tears on Heaven.

“I wish you would not think so lowly of me. After all these years, do you truly believe that I would harbor anything but gratitude towards you?”

♡ That shuts you up. For the next few weeks, you meekly accept Pierro’s care—he cooks for you, dresses your wounds, lets you sleep in his bed. There is only one problem: Your body refuses to heal. Blood continues to seep from your wounds, and you’re in a perpetual state of pain. Still, he faithfully tends to you day and night. It’s the least he can do for you.

♡ One day, he leaves the house to pick fruit and comes back to find a dark silhouette in his bedroom window. He rushes inside, armed with a weapon, to find a demon. Only, they’re kneeling by the bed, holding your hands, shedding tears of joy. That is when he notices the bloodstained scars on their hands, their tattered veil, your kind words for them…they, too, are a fallen Archangel.

♡ All peace, however, is dashed when your former subordinate tells Pierro that they are bringing you “home,” in other words Hell. As for the matter of your health, they claim that while your divine punishment is unheard of, they should be able to find a cure…from Il Dottore of all people. And despite your conflicted expression, it’s clear that you are seriously considering their invitation. Only for Pierro to take that choice away from you.

“And what makes you believe that I would allow ______ to leave our home?”

♡ Prior to you, Pierro never would’ve dared to challenge a spiritual being. But now, after all he’s been through, he takes a step forward and tells the demon to leave. It doesn’t take long for their argument to turn physical. But before the demon can smite him, Pierro defends himself with his Khaenri’ahn sorcery. They’re a formidable opponent, however, and the fight continues until he aims a galaxy-like aura at their heart. Quickly, you protect your former subordinate with a shield of rusty nails, only for the element to refract and hit you instead.

♡ Much to everyone’s relief, however, it has a different effect on you. Your feathers take on a black tint and a deep blue iridescence. The same thing happens to your horns. Most importantly, all of your wounds close up, leaving scars identical to Pierro’s cursed marks. And when he rushes to your side, asking if you are all right, you breathily tell him that you feel so much better.

♡ That is what convinces the demon to leave, but not without promising to return once they’ve informed the Devil. With peace restored in your home, the two of you go downstairs for lunch. You still need Pierro to support you, but it’s the first time you’ve managed to walk in your new form. And your appetite is bigger, healthier compared to your previous portions.

♡ After a few days however, the effect wears off. Your body loses its blue luster, your feathers fade to their original color, your pain returns. Once you’ve fully reverted to your original state, Pierro decides to try out his Khaenri’ahn sorcery again. This time, he holds your wrist and carefully channels his power into you…and it produces the same healing effect.

♡ For the sorcery which doomed his nation to save the life of his beloved…the irony leaves him at a loss of words, on the verge of laughing. But it does explain why you landed in Pierro’s home instead of Hell, and why God allowed the two of you to reunite. The knowledge brings a dark smile to his face. You’re at his mercy now, dependent on him for all eternity.

♡ When he faces you, he can tell that you’ve reached the same conclusion. Still, you entertain the thought of moving to Hell—surely, there must be a way for you to live without forcing Pierro to expend his energy on you. That is when he grips your hands, pulls you towards him, and tells you that you aren’t leaving him. If the two of you are truly fated to suffer, then it is only right that he returns all of the love you have given him.

♡ It’s easy to persuade you. After all you’ve experienced, you’re tired so you just nod and lean into his embrace. And in the following days, you slowly adjust to your new life. You help Pierro around the forest. A new bed is built, to fit two people. At night, the two of you engage in your usual bedtime conversations but you’re the one who falls asleep first.

♡ When your former subordinate returns, Pierro stands his ground. With you asleep, he is able to fight them outside and easily subdue them; he even had the wisdom to enhance his weapons with blood from your used bandages. And with his argument that any attempt on his life is equal to risking yours, they have no choice but to accept your situation.

♡ You’re still asleep when he returns to your shared bedroom. Careful not to wake you, he changes out of his bloody clothes and leaves his sword on the table, next to his old mask. Then he takes off his glove and traces your features with his cursed hand. And when you open your eyes, the look he gives you is one of pure hope.

“Pierro? What time is it?” you mumble.

“Far too early,” he replies. “Go back to sleep. I will join you shortly, ______.”

“...All right.” Yawning, you snuggle into the pillow and close your eyes. “Can you wake me up later? I don’t want to oversleep again.”

He smiles, caressing your cheek. “If you wish.”

It doesn’t take long for you to return to the world of dreams. Your sleeping face is truly a wonder to behold—an expression so tranquil, well-rested, vulnerable to his kiss.

“And when you awake, I want you to tell me your true name.”

♡

More Church AU here!! Dottore ๑ Capitano ๑ Arlecchino ๑ Pantalone ๑ Dainsleif

Note:: Please do not send me any Church AU asks/ requests involving characters or dynamics not included in my masterlist.

..…Don’t ask me how Pierro ended up with the highest word count in this AU. All I can say is that it was very cathartic to make him suffer, which is a recurring theme in his fics. If y’all enjoyed his story, do let me know (๑･̑◡･̑๑)

Also, soft launch for the next couple + story!! I’m rlly excited to write for Dainsleif, and just know that he’s in for a lot of surprises <3

Tag a Pierro enjoyer!! @leftdestiny-posts @beloved-blaiddyd @naraven @euniveve @stickyspeckledlight @harmonysanreads @oofasleep @mistymem0ryy @lazyroseart @teabutmakeitazure