#to finally see your love again in the afterlife | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

pucksandpower · 2 months ago

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Find Me Again

Lando Norris x Reader

Summary: in which two soulmates are destined to always find each other only to be torn apart lifetime after lifetime after lifetime … until finally, they’re not (aka the reincarnation AU)

Alexandria, 30 BC

The scorching Egyptian sun beats down on Alexandria as you hurry through the bustling streets, your sandals slapping against the warm stone. The air is thick with tension — whispers of Octavian’s approaching army have the city on edge. But your mind is elsewhere, focused on the stolen moments you’ll soon share with Lando.

You slip into a secluded alleyway, heart racing as you spot his familiar silhouette. Lando’s face lights up when he sees you, though worry creases his brow.

“There you are,” he murmurs, pulling you close. “I was beginning to think you wouldn’t come.”

You melt into his embrace, savoring his warmth. “I’m sorry I’m late. The palace has been in chaos with all the rumors flying about.”

Lando’s arms tighten around you. “It’s true then? Octavian draws near?”

You nod against his chest. “I fear so. Cleopatra grows more desperate by the day.”

He pulls back, cupping your face in his calloused hands. His dark eyes search yours intently. “Come away with me,” he pleads. “We can leave the city tonight, find passage on a ship bound for Greece or Cyprus.”

Your heart aches at the longing in his voice. “Lando, you know I can’t abandon my duty to the queen. She needs me now more than ever.”

“And what of my need for you?” Lando’s voice cracks with emotion. “Each day I’m torn between my loyalty to Rome and my love for you. I cannot bear the thought of you in danger when Octavian’s forces arrive.”

You reach up to caress his cheek, feeling the stubble beneath your fingers. “My brave soldier,” you murmur. “Always trying to protect me. But I’ve survived far worse than regime changes. We’ll find a way through this, as we always do.”

Lando leans into your touch, his eyes fluttering closed. “I wish I had your optimism. Every time I close my eyes, I see visions of you lying lifeless amidst the chaos of battle.”

A chill runs down your spine despite the oppressive heat. “Don’t speak of such things,” you chide gently. “We make our own fate, remember?”

He sighs, pressing his forehead to yours. “I know. I just ... I can’t shake this feeling of impending doom. Promise me you’ll be careful, my love. Promise you’ll do whatever it takes to stay safe.”

“I promise,” you whisper, sealing the vow with a tender kiss.

Lando responds eagerly, drawing you closer as the kiss deepens. For a blissful moment, the world fades away and there is only the two of you, lost in each other’s embrace.

A distant shout breaks the spell. You reluctantly pull away, both breathing heavily.

“I should go,” you murmur regretfully. “Cleopatra will be wondering where I’ve disappeared to.”

Lando nods, though he doesn’t release you from his arms. “When can I see you again?”

You bite your lip, considering. “Three days from now, at sunset. Meet me by the lighthouse?”

“I’ll be there,” he vows solemnly. “Be safe, my love.”

With a final lingering kiss, you slip from his embrace and hurry back towards the palace. Your heart feels lighter despite the looming threats, buoyed by Lando’s love and the promise of your next rendezvous.

But fate, it seems, has other plans.

The next few days pass in a blur of mounting tension. Cleopatra grows increasingly erratic, oscillating between grandiose plans to seduce Octavian and talks of ending her own life. You do your best to comfort and counsel her, all while stealing moments to daydream about your upcoming meeting with Lando.

On the fated evening, you’re helping Cleopatra prepare for bed when she suddenly fixates on a basket of figs brought by a servant.

“Ah, how fitting,” she muses, a strange glint in her eye. “Did you know, my dear, that the Egyptians that came before us believed figs to be the fruit of the afterlife?”

A chill runs down your spine. “My queen?”

Cleopatra waves a hand dismissively. “Oh, don’t look so worried. I was simply contemplating the cyclical nature of life and death. Come, help me into bed.”

You obey, tucking the sheets around her with practiced ease. As you turn to leave, her hand darts out to grasp your wrist.

“Stay with me a while longer,” she implores. “I find I cannot bear to be alone with my thoughts tonight.”

Your heart sinks, knowing you’ll miss your rendezvous with Lando. But duty wins out over desire. “Of course, my queen. I’ll stay as long as you need me.”

Hours pass as you sit by Cleopatra’s bedside, listening to her reminisce about better days. Just as your eyelids begin to grow heavy, a commotion in the hall startles you both fully awake.

“What’s happening?” Cleopatra demands, sitting up.

Before you can answer, the doors burst open and a breathless messenger stumbles in. “My queen,” he pants, “Octavian’s army has breached the city walls!”

Cleopatra’s face hardens. “So, the end has come at last.” She turns to you, her gaze intense. “Fetch me the asp.”

Your blood runs cold. “My queen, surely there must be another way-”

“Do not argue with me!” She snaps. “I will not be paraded through Rome as Octavian’s prize. Now go, quickly!”

With a heavy heart, you hurry to retrieve the venomous snake from its hidden chamber. Your hands shake as you return, presenting the basket to Cleopatra.

She reaches for it eagerly, but pauses. Her eyes meet yours, softening slightly. “My faithful friend,” she murmurs. “You have served me well. I release you from your duties. Go, find that Roman boy of yours and flee while you still can.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “You knew?”

Cleopatra’s lips quirk in a sad smile. “I’ve always known. Now go, before it’s too late.”

Torn between duty and desire, you hesitate. In that moment of indecision, everything changes.

Cleopatra reaches for the asp, but in her haste, she knocks the basket from your hands. The snake falls to the floor, immediately striking at the nearest target … you.

Pain explodes in your ankle as the asp’s fangs sink into your flesh. You cry out, stumbling backwards.

“No!” Cleopatra wails, lunging to catch you as you fall.

The world begins to spin as the venom courses through your veins. Your last coherent thought is of Lando, waiting faithfully by the lighthouse. As darkness closes in, you pray he’ll forgive you for breaking your promise.

Hours later, Lando fights his way through the chaos of the conquered city. He charges into the palace, heedless of the danger, desperate to find you.

When he bursts into Cleopatra’s chambers, his worst fears are realized. Two bodies lie motionless on the floor — the queen and beside her ...

“No,” he chokes out, falling to his knees beside your lifeless form. “No, no, no. This can’t be happening.”

Lando gathers you into his arms, cradling you against his chest as sobs wrack his body. “You promised,” he whispers brokenly. “You promised you’d stay safe.”

But promises, like empires, are so easily broken. As the sun rises on a new era for Egypt, it sets on this chapter of your shared story. Yet even as this life ends, the seeds of the next are already taking root, waiting to bloom in another time, another place.

For true love, like the mighty Nile, cannot be contained. It flows ever onward, carving new paths through the landscape of eternity.

Pompeii, 79 AD

The ground trembles beneath your feet as you race through the chaotic streets of Pompeii. Ash rains from the sky, coating everything in a ghostly gray shroud. All around, people scream and push, desperately seeking escape from the fury of Mount Vesuvius.

“Lando!” You call out, your voice hoarse from the acrid air. “Lando, where are you?”

A hand suddenly grabs your arm, yanking you into a narrow alleyway. You whirl around, ready to fight, only to find yourself face to face with Lando. His usually immaculate toga is torn and stained with soot, his dark curls matted with ash.

“Thank the gods,” he breathes, pulling you into a fierce embrace. “I thought I’d lost you in the crowd.”

You cling to him tightly, savoring his familiar warmth amidst the chaos. “We need to get out of the city,” you say urgently. “The mountain — it’s like nothing I’ve ever seen before.”

Lando nods grimly. “I know. I’ve been trying to make it to the harbor, but the roads are completely blocked. It’s madness out there.”

Another tremor rocks the ground, stronger than before. Pieces of masonry rain down from the surrounding buildings. Lando shields you with his body as you both press against the alley wall.

“We can’t stay here,” you say once the shaking subsides. “It’s not safe.”

“Nowhere is safe,” Lando replies, his eyes haunted. “But you’re right, we need to keep moving. Come on, I know another way to the docks.”

Hand-in-hand, you dash back out into the crowded street. The air grows thicker with each passing moment, making it harder to breathe. You pull the edge of your stola over your mouth and nose, squinting through the haze.

Lando leads you through a maze of side streets and back alleys, avoiding the worst of the panicked crowds. But with each turn, your hope dwindles. The mountain’s fury seems to be growing by the minute, raining down fire and ash with terrifying intensity.

As you round another corner, you come face to face with a wall of rubble blocking the entire street. Lando curses under his breath, pounding his fist against a fallen column.

“It’s no use,” he says, defeat creeping into his voice. “Every path to the harbor is cut off. We’re trapped.”

You squeeze his hand reassuringly. “Then we’ll find somewhere to wait it out. The gods won’t abandon us. We just have to have faith.”

He turns to you, a sad smile playing on his lips. “Always the optimist, aren’t you? Even in the face of certain doom.”

“One of us has to be,” you reply, managing a weak smile of your own.

Another violent tremor shakes the ground, nearly knocking you both off your feet. In the distance, you hear the ominous rumble of collapsing buildings.

“Quick, in here!” Lando shouts, pulling you towards a sturdy-looking stone building. You duck inside just as a fresh barrage of burning rocks pelts the street where you were standing moments ago.

As your eyes adjust to the dimness, you realize you’re in some kind of workshop. Half-finished statues and blocks of marble are scattered about, coated in a fine layer of ash that has sifted through the cracks.

“A sculptor’s studio,” Lando muses, running his hand along a nearby bust. “Rather fitting, don’t you think? To spend our last moments surrounded by art meant to outlast us all.”

You shoot him a reproachful look. “Don’t talk like that. This isn’t the end. We’ll get through this, just like we always do.”

He sighs, pulling you close. “I admire your spirit, my love. But I fear this time, the Fates have other plans for us.”

As if to punctuate his words, the ground gives another violent lurch. The air grows even thicker, filled with choking dust and sulfurous fumes.

“It’s getting harder to breathe,” you gasp, fighting back a coughing fit.

Lando guides you to a relatively clear corner of the room, helping you sit on the floor before settling beside you. He wraps his arm around your shoulders, drawing you against his side.

“Just try to take shallow breaths,” he instructs, his own voice strained. “Like this, see?”

You nod, focusing on matching your breathing to his. For a moment, there’s nothing but the sound of your labored breaths and the distant rumble of the mountain.

“Lando?” You whisper after a while.

“Hmm?”

“I’m scared.”

He tightens his hold on you, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I know, love. I am too.”

“Tell me a story?” You ask, your voice small. “Like you used to, when we first met. Remember?”

Lando chuckles softly. “How could I forget? You were the most stubborn student I’ve ever had the misfortune of tutoring.”

“Hey!” You protest weakly, managing a smile despite everything. “I wasn’t that bad.”

“Oh no?” He teases. “Who was it that insisted the Odyssey would be vastly improved if Odysseus had simply asked for directions?”

You laugh, the sound quickly dissolving into a cough. “Well, it’s true! Twenty years to get home? Penelope should have moved on.”

Lando shakes his head in mock dismay. “Such disrespect for the classics. I clearly failed as your tutor.”

“Never,” you murmur, snuggling closer to him. “You taught me far more important things than dusty old stories.”

“Oh? And what might those be?”

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze. “You taught me what it means to truly love someone. To find a home not in a place, but in a person.”

Lando’s eyes shine with unshed tears as he leans down to kiss you softly. “And you, my darling, taught me that life is meant to be lived, not just studied. You brought color to my world of scrolls and stone.”

Another tremor shakes the building, sending a fresh wave of dust raining down on you both. The air grows thicker, each breath a struggle.

“Lando,” you wheeze, gripping his hand tightly. “I don’t want to die.”

He pulls you onto his lap, cradling you against his chest. “Shh, it’s alright. I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“Promise you won’t leave me?” You plead, your vision starting to blur.

“Never,” he vows fiercely. “Not in this life or any other. Wherever our souls go next, we go together. I promise.”

You manage a weak nod, focusing on the steady beat of his heart against your cheek. As consciousness begins to slip away, you’re struck by a strange sense of déjà vu.

“Lando?” You murmur, your voice barely audible.

“Yes, love?”

“I think ... I think we’ve done this before.”

He lets out a shaky laugh. “What, died in each other’s arms while a volcano erupts? I think I’d remember that.”

You shake your head slightly. “No, not exactly. But this feeling ... like we’ve known each other forever. Like we’ll find each other again, no matter what.”

Lando is quiet for a long moment. When he speaks, his voice is thick with emotion. “Maybe we have. Maybe we will. I’d like to think so.”

“Me too,” you whisper.

As the world crumbles around you, you cling to each other. Your last thoughts are not of fear or regret, but of the love you share. A love so powerful it transcends time itself.

And as this chapter closes, another waits to begin. For some bonds are too strong to be broken, even by death. Your souls are destined to find each other again and again, weaving an eternal tapestry of love across the ages.

Salem, 1692

The air in the Salem courthouse is thick with tension and the bitter scent of fear. You stand before the assembled judges, your wrists bound tightly with rough rope that chafes your skin. The crowd of onlookers murmurs and shifts restlessly, their faces a sea of suspicion and barely concealed hostility.

Lando sits among them, his face a mask of anguish as he watches the proceedings. He wants nothing more than to rush to your side, to shield you from the madness that has gripped the town. But he knows that any show of support would only damn you further in the eyes of the court.

Judge Hathorne’s voice rings out, silencing the whispers. “The accused will step forward.”

You take a shaky step, raising your chin defiantly despite the terror coursing through your veins.

“You stand accused of witchcraft and consorting with the devil,” Hathorne intones gravely. “How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” you declare, your voice stronger than you feel. “I am no witch, merely a midwife and herbalist. I have done nothing but help this community.”

A snort of derision comes from the crowd. You turn to see Goodwife Putnam, her face twisted with malice. “Lies!” She shrieks. “I saw her dancing naked in the woods, consorting with dark spirits!”

“That’s not true!” You protest. “I was gathering herbs for my remedies, nothing more!”

Judge Hathorne raises an eyebrow. “And can anyone vouch for your whereabouts on the night in question?”

Your heart sinks. You had been alone that night, as you often were when foraging. “I ... I was alone, your honor. But I swear on all that is holy, I am no witch.”

A ripple of whispers sweeps through the crowd. Lando’s fists clench at his sides, his jaw tight with the effort of remaining silent.

“Very convenient,” Hathorne remarks dryly. “Goody Putnam, you may continue with your testimony.”

The woman stands, her eyes gleaming with a fervor that chills you to the bone. “I’ve seen her speaking to animals as if they could understand her. And just last week, my cow’s milk turned sour the very day after she visited our farm!”

“That’s ridiculous!” You exclaim. “Milk spoils, it’s a natural occurrence. And I often speak to animals, as do many others. It does not make me a witch!”

But your protests fall on deaf ears. One by one, your neighbors step forward with increasingly outlandish accusations. Every misfortune, every unexplained event is laid at your feet.

“She cursed my crops!”

“My child fell ill after eating her bread!”

“I saw her flying on a broomstick!”

The claims grow more absurd, but the judges nod solemnly at each one. You feel the noose of suspicion tightening around your neck with each passing moment.

Finally, unable to bear it any longer, Lando leaps to his feet. “This is madness!” He shouts. “You’re condemning an innocent woman based on nothing but gossip and superstition!”

All eyes turn to him. Judge Danforth fixes him with a steely glare. “Master Norris, you will remain silent or be removed from this courtroom.”

“I will not be silent while you murder an innocent woman!” Lando retorts. He turns to the crowd, imploring them. “Can’t you see what’s happening? We’re tearing our community apart with these baseless accusations!”

A murmur of uncertainty ripples through the onlookers. For a moment, you dare to hope that reason might prevail.

But then Abigail Williams, one of the young girls at the center of the witch hunt, lets out a blood-curdling shriek. She points a trembling finger at you. “Her specter! I see her specter tormenting me even now!”

The other girls quickly join in, writhing and screaming as if in the throes of possession. The courtroom erupts into chaos.

“Order!” Judge Hathorne bellows, pounding his gavel. “Order in the court!”

As the commotion dies down, he turns to you, his expression grave. “The evidence against you is overwhelming. Unless you confess and repent, I have no choice but to find you guilty of witchcraft.”

Your heart pounds in your chest. You know that a confession might spare your life, but it would mean living a lie. And worse, it would lend credence to the madness gripping Salem.

“I will not confess to crimes I did not commit,” you say quietly but firmly. “I am innocent before God and man.”

Judge Hathorne’s face hardens. “Then you leave us no choice. You are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. May God have mercy on your soul.”

The crowd erupts into a mix of cheers and shocked gasps. Lando’s anguished cry rises above the din. “No! You can’t do this!”

He rushes towards you, but is quickly restrained by two burly constables. “Let me go!” He shouts, struggling against their grip. “She’s innocent!”

Your eyes meet his across the chaotic courtroom. Despite everything, you manage a small, sad smile. “It’s alright, Lando,” you call out. “Be strong. This isn’t your fault.”

As the guards move to lead you away, Lando breaks free and rushes to your side. He cups your face in his hands, his eyes wild with desperation. “I’ll find a way to stop this,” he vows. “I won’t let them take you.”

You lean into his touch, memorizing the feel of his hands on your skin. “There’s nothing you can do, my love. Promise me you’ll stay safe. Don’t let them take you too.”

“I can’t lose you,” he chokes out, tears streaming down his face.

“You won’t,” you whisper fiercely. “Not really. I don’t know how I know this, but I swear we’ll find each other again. In another life, another time. This isn’t the end for us.”

The guards roughly pull you apart. As they drag you away, you keep your eyes locked on Lando’s, drawing strength from his gaze.

The next few days pass in a blur of fear and desperate prayer. You cling to the strange certainty that had come over you in the courtroom — that somehow, someway, this is not truly the end for you and Lando.

On the day of your execution, you walk to the gallows with your head held high. The crowd that has gathered is subdued, some already beginning to question the justice of what’s happening.

You scan the faces, searching for Lando, but he’s nowhere to be seen. Your heart aches at his absence, but you understand. It would be too painful for him to watch.

As the noose is placed around your neck, you close your eyes and think of Lando. Of his laugh, his gentle touch, the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles. You hold onto these memories as the world falls away beneath your feet.

Your last conscious thought is a promise — to find him again, no matter how long it takes.

Miles away, hidden in the woods, Lando feels the exact moment you leave this world. He collapses to his knees, a wordless cry of anguish tearing from his throat. But even in his grief, he feels the echo of your final promise.

“I’ll find you,” he whispers to the uncaring forest. “In this life or the next. We’ll be together again. I swear it.”

And so another chapter closes, the threads of your shared destiny stretching onward through time. The cycle continues, each life bringing you closer to the moment when you’ll finally break free of this endless dance of death and rebirth.

Yekaterinburg, 1918

The Ipatiev House looms dark and foreboding in the Yekaterinburg night. You pace the confines of your makeshift prison, the once-opulent rooms now a stark reminder of how far the mighty Romanovs have fallen. The sound of raised voices and heavy footsteps from the floor below sends a chill down your spine.

“They’re coming,” your sister Maria whispers, her eyes wide with fear.

Before you can respond, the door bursts open. A group of armed men file in, their faces grim and purposeful. Your heart nearly stops when you spot a familiar face among them.

“Lando?” You gasp, scarcely able to believe your eyes.

He meets your gaze, his expression a turbulent mix of emotions. “Grand Duchess,” he says stiffly, the formal title at odds with the intimate moments you’ve shared in secret.

“What’s happening?” You demand, struggling to keep your voice steady. “Why are you here?”

Yakov Yurovsky, the commandant of the house, steps forward. “The Ural Soviet has decided to execute the Romanov family,” he announces coldly. “You are to be moved to the basement immediately.”

A wave of terror washes over you. “No,” you breathe. “No, this can’t be happening.”

Your eyes lock with Lando’s, silently pleading. For a moment, you see the conflict raging behind his eyes. But then his expression hardens, and he looks away.

As the guards begin herding your family towards the stairs, you manage to maneuver closer to Lando. “How could you be part of this?” You hiss under your breath.

His jaw clenches. “The revolution demands sacrifices,” he mutters. “Even from those we ... care about.”

“Care about?” You repeat incredulously. “Is that all I am to you now? After everything we’ve shared?”

A flicker of pain crosses his face. “You know it’s more complicated than that. Your family’s rule has caused immeasurable suffering. This ... this is justice.”

“Murder is not justice,” you retort, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and anger.

Before he can respond, you’re roughly pushed forward. The journey to the basement is a blur of terror and disbelief. Your mind races, desperately seeking a way out of this nightmare.

In the dank cellar, Yurovsky instructs your family to line up against the wall. You find yourself between your younger siblings, instinctively trying to shield them even as your own knees threaten to give out.

“Wait,” you cry out as Yurovsky raises his hand to signal the firing squad. “Please, spare the children at least. They’re innocent in all this!”

Yurovsky’s face remains impassive. “There can be no Romanov heirs left to rally around. The old regime must end here and now.”

You turn to Lando, making one last desperate appeal. “Lando, please. If what we had meant anything to you, don’t let this happen. Help us!”

For a moment, you see the Lando you knew — the passionate young man who spoke of creating a better world, who held you under the stars and whispered promises of a future together. But then the revolutionary mask slips back into place.

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice barely audible. “But this is bigger than us.”

As the soldiers raise their weapons, time seems to slow. You think of all the lives you might have lived — the futures now forever lost to you. A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you, as if you’ve faced death with Lando before.

“Ready!” Yurovsky’s voice cuts through your reverie.

You straighten your spine, determined to face your end with dignity. Your eyes find Lando’s one last time.

“Aim!”

“I forgive you,” you mouth silently, even as tears stream down your face.

You see Lando’s composure crack, anguish flooding his features. He takes a half-step forward, as if to intervene, but it’s too late.

“Fire!”

The basement erupts in a deafening cacophony of gunshots and screams. You feel a searing pain in your chest as bullets tear through you. As you crumple to the ground, your fading vision fixates on Lando’s horrified face.

With your last breath, you whisper, “Find me again.”

Then darkness claims you.

Lando stands frozen, unable to tear his eyes away from your lifeless form. The smokey smell of gunpowder mixes with the metallic scent of blood, turning his stomach.

“Finish them off,” Yurovsky orders dispassionately. “No survivors.”

As his comrades move forward with bayonets, Lando stumbles back, retching. He staggers up the stairs and out into the cool night air, gulping it down desperately.

What has he done?

He’d believed so fervently in the revolution, in the need to sweep away the old order to build a better world. But staring at his blood-stained hands, Lando feels nothing but horror and soul-crushing guilt.

Your final words haunt him. “Find me again.” But how can he, when he’s destroyed any chance of a future together?

As dawn breaks over Yekaterinburg, Lando makes a decision. He can’t undo what’s been done, but he can ensure the truth isn’t buried along with your body.

Over the coming weeks, as the Bolsheviks spread lies about your family’s fate, Lando works in secret to document what really happened. He gathers evidence, writes detailed accounts, and arranges for the information to be smuggled out of the country.

It’s a dangerous game. If caught, he’ll be branded a traitor to the revolution. But Lando no longer cares about ideology or politics. His only goal is to honor your memory and ensure that history remembers the truth.

Late one night, as he prepares to flee the country with his damning documents, Lando allows himself a moment of quiet reflection. He thinks of your smile, your compassion, the way you challenged him to see beyond his rigid beliefs.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers to the empty room. “I failed you in this life. But I swear, somehow, I’ll make it right. If there’s any justice in the universe, we’ll meet again. And next time, I’ll protect you. I’ll choose you over everything else.”

As he slips out into the night, Lando feels a strange sense of certainty. This isn’t the end of your story. Somehow, someway, you’ll find each other again.

The wheel of fate continues to turn, carrying your intertwined souls towards yet another lifetime. But with each cycle, the bond between you grows stronger. Perhaps next time, you’ll finally break free of this tragic pattern and find the happiness that’s eluded you for so long.

Jonestown, 1978

The humid Guyanese air hangs heavy over Jonestown, thick with tension and the cloying scent of tropical flowers. You stand among the gathered crowd, your heart pounding so hard you fear it might burst from your chest. Beside you, Lando’s hand finds yours, squeezing tightly.

“This isn’t right,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible over the droning speech coming from the pavilion. “We need to get out of here.”

You nod imperceptibly, not daring to speak. Jim Jones’ paranoid ravings have reached a fever pitch in recent days, and you both know that even the slightest hint of dissent could be deadly.

“My children,” Jones’ voice booms out over the loudspeakers, “the time has come for us to make our final stand against the oppressors who seek to destroy our paradise.”

A murmur ripples through the crowd. You scan the sea of faces, seeing a mix of blind devotion and barely concealed terror.

“Our Congressional visitors have betrayed us,” Jones continues, his words slurring slightly. “They will bring nothing but destruction. We have no choice but to enact our glorious revolutionary suicide.”

Your blood runs cold. You’d heard whispers of this plan, but had desperately hoped it was just another of Jones’ manipulative tactics.

“Lando,” you whisper urgently, “we have to run. Now.”

He nods, his face pale but determined. “Follow my lead. When I give the signal, we make a break for the jungle.”

But before you can move, you feel a vice-like grip on your arm. You turn to see your mother, her eyes wild with fervor.

“Where do you think you’re going?” She hisses. “This is our moment of triumph. You will not ruin it with your lack of faith.”

On Lando’s other side, his father has a similar hold on him. The older man’s face is a mask of grim resignation. “Don’t make this harder than it has to be, son,” he says quietly.

You watch in horror as Jones’ lieutenants begin distributing paper cups filled with a sinister purple liquid. The bitter almond smell of cyanide fills the air.

“No,” you breathe, struggling against your mother’s grip. “Mom, please. This is insanity. We don’t have to do this!”

But your pleas fall on deaf ears. Your mother’s grip only tightens as she accepts two cups from a passing aide.

“Drink,” she commands, thrusting one towards you.

You shake your head vehemently, clamping your mouth shut. Beside you, Lando is engaged in a similar struggle with his father.

“You can’t force us to do this!” Lando shouts, drawing the attention of nearby cult members. “This is murder!”

Jones’ voice cuts through the growing commotion. “Those who resist are traitors to our cause. They must be made to comply, for the good of all.”

Suddenly, you’re surrounded by a group of Jones’ most fanatical followers. Rough hands grab you, forcing your head back. You struggle wildly, but it’s no use. You feel the cold rim of the cup pressed against your lips.

“No!” Lando cries out, fighting to reach you. “Leave her alone!”

But he too is overwhelmed, multiple hands restraining him as the poisoned drink is forced upon him.

The sickly-sweet liquid burns your throat as it’s poured into your mouth. You choke and splutter, but can’t prevent some of it from going down. Beside you, Lando’s muffled cries tell you he’s suffering the same fate.

As the hands release you, you collapse to your knees, coughing violently. Your vision swims, the world taking on a surreal, nightmarish quality.

“Lando,” you gasp, reaching out blindly.

His hand finds yours, gripping it weakly. “I’m here,” he manages, his voice raw. “I’m so sorry. I couldn’t protect you.”

You crawl closer, fighting against the growing weakness in your limbs. All around, people are collapsing, some screaming in agony while others slip away in eerie silence.

“It’s not your fault,” you whisper, cupping Lando’s face with a trembling hand. “We never stood a chance against this madness.”

Lando’s eyes, clouded with pain, meet yours. “This can’t be how it ends,” he says desperately. “Not again.”

A strange sense of déjà vu washes over you. “Again?” You murmur, confused.

He nods weakly. “I don’t know how, but I feel like we’ve been here before. Facing death together, unable to stop it.”

As the poison works its way through your system, flashes of other lives flicker through your mind. Ancient Egypt, Pompeii, Salem, Russia — each time, finding each other only to be torn apart.

“I remember,” you breathe, wonder mingling with the pain. “We keep finding each other, but we never get our happy ending.”

Lando pulls you closer, both of you shaking with the effort of fighting off the inevitable. “Next time,” he vows, his voice barely above a whisper. “Next time we’ll break this cycle. We’ll find a way to be together.”

You manage a small, sad smile. “Promise?”

“I promise,” he murmurs, pressing a weak kiss to your forehead.

As consciousness begins to slip away, you cling to each other. The sounds of screaming and Jones’ maniacal laughter fade into the background. In these final moments, there is only you and Lando, and the love that has somehow endured across lifetimes.

“Find me again,” you whisper, echoing words spoken in another life.

Lando’s grip on your hand tightens fractionally. “Always,” he breathes.

As darkness closes in, you’re filled with a strange sense of hope. This tragic cycle can’t go on forever. Someday, somehow, you’ll find a way to break free and finally have the life together you’ve been denied so many times.

Your last thought, as you slip away, is a prayer to whatever cosmic force keeps bringing you together.

Next time, let it be different.

Next time, let us live.

And as your souls depart this tragic scene, unseen wheels of fate begin to turn once more. The cycle continues, but perhaps this time, with the weight of so many shared lifetimes behind you, you’ll finally find your way to a happier ending.

In the years that follow, as the horror of Jonestown is revealed to the world, two names are lost among the hundreds of victims. But your story — the story of a love that refuses to be extinguished — lives on, waiting for the next chapter to unfold.

Monaco, 2024

The soft glow of computer screens illuminates Lando’s face as he leans into his microphone, his eyes darting between the chat and his game. “No, chat, I’m not going to sing the Baby Shark song,” he chuckles, shaking his head. “You lot are absolutely mental, you know that?”

The door to his streaming room creaks open, and he glances over, his face softening into a warm smile as you pad in, wrapped in an oversized hoodie you’ve stolen from his wardrobe.

“Speaking of sharks,” Lando grins, addressing his audience, “look who’s decided to join us. It’s my favorite cuddly shark!”

You roll your eyes fondly at the nickname, a reference to your habit of playfully nipping at his shoulder when you’re feeling particularly affectionate. As you approach, Lando pushes his chair back slightly, making room for you to settle onto his lap.

“Come here, you,” he murmurs, wrapping an arm around your waist as you curl into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. To his stream, he explains, “Sorry chat, the missus is feeling a bit clingy tonight. Not that I’m complaining, mind you.”

You mumble something unintelligible into his skin, making him laugh. “What was that, love? The stream can’t hear you when you’re trying to become one with my neck.”

Lifting your head slightly, you repeat, “I said, don’t let me interrupt your gaming. I just wanted cuddles.”

Lando presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You’re never an interruption. Besides, I think the chat’s been asking for a cameo from you all night.”

You turn to face the camera, waving sleepily. “Hi, chat. Sorry I’m not more entertaining tonight. Long day at work.”

The chat explodes with greetings and well-wishes, scrolling by almost too fast to read. Lando chuckles, giving you a gentle squeeze. “See? They love you. Probably more than they love me, to be honest.”

“That’s fair,” you murmur, nuzzling back into his neck. “No one loves you more than I do.”

Lando’s breath catches for a moment, and you feel his heart rate pick up. Even after all this time together, simple declarations of love still affect him deeply. It’s one of the many things you adore about him.

“Alright, chat,” Lando says, his voice a touch huskier than before. “You’ve gone and made her all sappy. I hope you’re happy with yourselves.”

You can’t help but giggle at his attempt to deflect. “Oh please, you love it when I’m sappy.”

“Maybe,” he concedes with a grin. “But if I admit that, they’ll never let me hear the end of it. I have a reputation to maintain, you know.”

You snort inelegantly. “What reputation? Everyone knows you’re a big softie.”

“Oi!” Lando protests, poking you in the side and making you squirm. “I’ll have you know I’m very tough and manly. Right, chat?”

The stream erupts with a mix of agreement and playful disagreement, peppered with emotes and inside jokes. You watch the scrolling text with amusement, marveling at the community Lando has built.

“See?” Lando says triumphantly. “They agree with me.”

You raise an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure at least half of those messages were sarcastic, babe.”

Lando waves a hand dismissively. “Details, details. The point is, I’m incredibly macho and not at all a softie.”

“Mmhmm,” you hum skeptically. “Is that why you cried watching Up last week?”

“Hey!” Lando exclaims, his cheeks flushing slightly. “That’s classified information, that is. You can’t just go revealing my secrets to the entire internet!”

The chat goes wild at this revelation, demanding to know more about Lando’s movie-watching habits. You can’t help but laugh at his mock-outraged expression.

“Sorry, love,” you say, not sounding sorry at all. “But if I have to put up with your sniffling during Disney movies, the least I can do is share the joy with your fans.”

Lando groans dramatically. “That’s it, I’m filing for divorce. Chat, you’re my witnesses. This is grounds for divorce, right? Revealing a man’s most intimate vulnerabilities?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “We’re not even married yet, you goof.”

The words slip out before you can think better of them, and suddenly the atmosphere in the room shifts. Lando’s eyes widen slightly, his gaze locking with yours.

“Yet?” He repeats softly, a note of wonder in his voice.

You feel your cheeks heat up, but you don’t look away. “Well, yeah. I mean, unless you had other plans?”

For a moment, Lando seems to forget entirely about the stream. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin. “No other plans,” he murmurs. “Just you. Always you.”

The intimacy of the moment is broken by the chat exploding once again, this time with a flurry of ring emotes and excited keysmashes. Lando blinks, seeming to remember where he is.

“Right,” he says, clearing his throat. “Well, chat, I think that’s my cue to end the stream for tonight. Got some, uh, important things to discuss with this one.”

You bury your face in his neck again, half embarrassed and half thrilled by the turn of events. As Lando rushes through his usual sign-off, you can feel the barely contained energy thrumming through him.

The moment the stream ends, Lando spins his chair to face you fully, his eyes bright with excitement. “Did you mean that?” He asks eagerly. “About the marriage thing?”

You lift your head, meeting his gaze with a soft smile. “Of course I did. Lando, I’ve loved you for lifetimes. There’s nothing I want more than to marry you.”

Something flashes in his eyes at your words — a fleeting moment of recognition, as if some long-buried memory is struggling to surface. But then it’s gone, replaced by pure joy.

“Lifetimes, huh?” He grins, pulling you closer. “Well, in that case, I suppose we better make this one count.”

As his lips meet yours in a tender kiss, you’re filled with an overwhelming sense of rightness. After so many tragic endings, you’ve finally found your happily ever after. And this time, you’re not letting go.

“I love you,” you murmur against his lips. “In this life and every other.”

Lando’s answering smile is radiant. “And I love you. Always have, always will.”

As you lose yourselves in each other’s embrace, the echoes of past lives fade away. This is your time, your chance at happiness. And you plan to make the most of every single moment.

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selineram3421 · 10 months ago

Note

can I make a request for an Alastor x reader? Where y/n is Husk's sibling and Alastor won't stop flirting with y/n and Husk is just not having it? (And the rest of the HH crew are just in the background shipping Alastor and y/n)

*swipes up* Cat Demon Reader!!!! FUCK YEAH!

Hissy Kitty

Prologue

Alastor X Reader

Warnings⚠

⚠ cussing, protective older brother Husk, Alastor loves annoying your brother, italics = thoughts ⚠

Husk was very protective of you and made sure you were taken care of. In Living and afterlife, he kept you out of his "business" to keep you safe.

Of course you surprise him by showing up at the hotel.

"What the fuck are you doing here!?"

"Surprise!", you cheered and gave your older brother a hug.

He didn't want you anywhere near his work. It was too risky. You would have been made a target. He didn't want HIM to know about you.

"Answer the question.", he grumbled but hugged you back.

"I haven't seen you in a while and I just wanted to-", you began, pulling back a bit from the hug, taking a look around the hotel lobby that was behind him.

"Look, I'll call you and tell you all about it but you need to go before-", he tried to get you to leave quickly.

"Husker!"

Shit.

He was pissed that he was too late.

"What are you doing trying to chase a guest out?", the demon in red walked over and pulled you into the hotel. "We are trying to invite them in."

"This one ain't looking to stay in the hotel!", your brother hissed and tried to pull you away from the red dressed demon.

You were suddenly spun and dipped by the man in red. It shocked you so much that you held onto the red demon tightly.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel! I am Alastor the facility manager.", Alastor grinned as he gazed down at you. "And who might you be?"

Such an adorable thing. He thought when seeing your ears pinned back and eyes having turned into slits, his grin widening when he noticed Husk getting angrier.

"Um..can you let me up now? This is a very weird way of greeting..", you squirmed, your tail flicking in annoyance.

After letting you go, Alastor took note of how bristled up the fur of his acquaintance was.

How interesting..

"Forgive me dear, I can get quite theatrical.", he laughed and fixed his bowtie. "And your name?"

"I'm-"

"Not staying.", Husk cut in. "They only came to see me, now back off."

"What the hell, can't I greet a demon?", you huffed.

Your brother pulls you away to speak in private.

"Not this one! This prick is someone I don't want you hanging around with.", he whispered growled, putting his hands on your shoulders. "Go home, put some wards or some shit for protection and don't come back here again!"

"Damn it Husk!", you slapped his hands away. "I came here to check up on you!"

Alastor stays where he is to enjoy the show. Glancing to the side when seeing Angel step into the lobby.

"Its been years! I haven't heard from you until two weeks ago about this place. Where have you been!? Do you know how worried I was!?"

"Psst! Smiles! Who the fuck is kitty whiskers?", the spider asks.

"Haven't the faintest idea but this argument is getting amusing.", he responds.

"I told you that I moved! That should be enough!", Husk gestured to the hotel.

"Yeah, its nice to know you're alive but you could have at least told me how you've been! Did you make any new friends? Did you drink until you blacked out again? Something else for fucks sake!", you yelled.

"I'm alive!", your brother yelled back. "I drank yesterday!", he pushed you towards the door. "I don't have friends!", he opened the door. "Now leave!"

"Tsk tsk!", Alastor tutted and used his shadows to pull you away from the door, moving you into his hold. "They are our guest, even if they are just visiting Husker~"

The Radio Demon's smile growing bigger when he saw the cat clench his fists.

"You are welcome to visit anytime to see this-", the red demon gestures to your brother. "-hissy kitty that you know."

"Ha!", you quickly covered your mouth to keep your laugh silent.

"A smile! Finally!", Alastor leaned closer to you. "I'd like to see it if you don't mind."

"Back off!", Husk pushed the red dressed demon away and took your hand. "Come on, I'll show you around."

"I can stay!?", you asked your brother.

"Only for a few hours!", he replied.

You stayed longer than a few hours.

Charlie had caught wind and was excited to meet you.

Husk drank from his bottle, watching as you talked to the Princess and Vaggie. The two were hooked on whatever story you were telling.

"So Husky~", Angel slid over.

"Don't you fucking call me that ever again.", the cat grumbled before continuing to drink.

"Who's the new cat strolling about?", the spider asked. "I've never seen you so pushy with someone before~ Are they an ex?"

"None of your business and ew. Fuck no.", Husk wiped his mouth after he finished the bottle. "Forget about them. They need to leave anyway.", he said before walking over to you.

"Hi Husk!", you waved as you entered the hotel.

"Fucking shit. What did you not understand about staying away!?"

You had a smug grin and pranced over to him.

"Can't really stay away from where I work~", you said and showed your employment papers.

"What.", your brother growled.

"While I was talking to the Princess during the tour, you stepped out for a bit and I told her I wanted to work here!", you beamed, cat tail swaying calmly. "So now I can't leave! Yay!"

"Are you fucking stupid!?", Husk yelled.

"Now Husker.", Alastor appeared from the shadows behind you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "That is no way to talk to your fellow coworker."

The Radio Demon smiled cheekily when seeing the cat demon's fur bristle in anger.

"Let's show you all of the staff rooms!", he said suddenly and turned you towards the stairs. "There are quite a few closets littered about for cleaning supplies! For now that is what you'll do with Niffty until the Princess can think of where to put you."

"Is there any cleaning supplies?", you asked a little suspicious.

"Haven't a clue! But let's find out!"

You were near Alastor most of the day.

Husk actually followed you both until the "tour" ended.

"And that is all of the cleaning closets so far!", the red man grinned.

All of you were now standing in one of the many hallways. The fourth floor if you remember.

"Thank you for pointing them out.", you removed his hand from your shoulder. "Little less of that if you don't mind."

"Oh! I didn't even notice.", Alastor held his hands behind his back. "Do remind me if I slip again."

Husk quickly took you away from the red demon and walked you towards the lobby.

"Look, I'm glad you're here. Really. But its not safe for you to be around that smiling asshole.", your brother hissed.

"Husk, I'm not as clueless as you think I am.", you sigh and shook his arm off. "I'll keep myself safe.", you finish and walk away.

The cat demon stayed behind, groaning as he slides his hand down his face, feeling on edge, tired, and annoyed all at once.

"I've never seen you around a demon like them~", Alastor appears from the shadows. "And you're so protective!", he walks in front of the cat demon. "What a good older brother you are.", he leans back and spins his head to look at the demon.

"Don't you fucking try anything!", Husk threatens.

The Radio Demon laughs and stands up straight. "We'll have to go over our deal again!", he says while fixing his coat. "I hope you added their protection in."

"You piece of shit-!", Husk extends his claws and opens his wings up.

"I must be off! Who knows what trouble the guests have gotten into already!", Alastor walks away from the angry cat.

The Radio Demon hummed as he walked down the hallway, a slight skip in his step as his smile grew wider.

Oh how entertaining~

I love cats💕 Also this is turning into a short story because Husk is gonna be hella pissed.

~Seline, the person.

Part 1

Taglist@

@ducky-died-inside @scary-noodlesblog @c4rved-pumpk1n @stolas-thebirb @naelys-the-aster @biromanticboba @kiraisastay @pooplyface1423 @lbcreations-blog @gallantys @+?

ML for Alastor🎙 | ChL for HK😾

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multific · 6 months ago

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Maybe In Another Life

King Baldwin IV x Reader

Warnings: Mention of smut, Illness, Mourning, Death

Summary: A short piece about a King who was doomed to die early and his Queen.

You were promised to him before either of you were even born.

You were married by the time you were 13. He was 14 years old.

And you loved him.

You loved how smart he was. How gentle and kind he was.

Your love for him started when you began to grow older, you got used to one another.

You loved him.

Then, he started to get more and more sick. It scared you. The thought of losing him petrified you.

You tried to ignore his illness, you tried to act as if everything was fine. But you couldn't hide it for long.

He was a strong soul, but his body was weak.

You remember the night of your wedding when you had to consummate your marriage. It was a night you would never forget.

It was the first time you laid with him. It was the first time you felt truly loved.

Even if you wanted to, tried to, there was only ever one time when he gave himself to you.

You seduced him, not giving him an option, you laid in his bed, bare and presented yourself to him. It was his 16th day of birth before his illness got worse.

He began to wear the mask, never letting anyone touch him.

You loved him, it was simple yet complicated.

But you knew he loved you.

His actions showed it to you.

The garden he built just for you, was grand and gorgeous.

"Just like you, My Wife." he would say. "This garden will be the proof of my love for you and of your beauty for the upcoming centuries."

How he loved your smile.

But then, you were sitting next to him as he was taking his last breaths. Your tears falling, you couldn't control them.

"I will miss you greatly." you said as he moved his hand and allowed you to take it.

One last touch.

"I love you," he said and you smiled, allowing him to see it right as he died.

You took a deep breath and placed a kiss on his mask.

"I love you too." you said as you broke down sobbing.

You visited his grave daily.

In the beginning, you didn't even leave it for days.

They will crown a new King, and people will move on, but not you.

Barely a year passed and you were lost. You had nothing and no one to live for.

You still visited your husband's grave daily, hoping he would wake up, hoping he would come back to you, but he never did.

Your mourning caused you to become sick.

In the hopes of joining your husband in the afterlife, you prayed and begged for death until the day it finally took you.

You joined him in death as you wished.

The wife of King Baldwin IV was placed to rest next to him, your rightful place, right by his side.

Maybe in another life, you two would meet again, hopefully, that time it will be right.

----

They say you don't remember your past life, but the feeling stays with you.

It is why a person who you know you have not met, might feel familiar. In a past life, you might have known them.

Then, there are people who claim to remember their past life. Who say they found their true love once again.

You used to laugh at those people.

But not today.

Not when you couldn't look away from him.

He stood right across the other side of the street. Occasionally, cars obstructed your view, but he was there.

With each passing car, you feared he would disappear.

But he didn't.

His eyes were glued to yours.

A familiar feeling flooded you, you knew him but you never met him.

You would remember such a handsome face, he was tall, lean yet built, dressed in jeans and a sweatshirt. Nothing spectacular.

But he looked amazing in your eyes.

Soon, he crossed the road, and you felt your heartbeat pick up.

You didn't move as he walked closer to you.

He was even taller up close.

"My Wife." he said and it felt so right.

You have never seen this man in your life. And yet, you remembered him.

"My King." you said as tears fell from your eyes.

"I remember learning about you in history class. The Mourning Queen of the Leper King." he stepped closer, lifting his hand to your cheek, and you smiled.

"I told you before, I couldn't possibly live without you." he smiled as you leaned closer, grabbing his shirt to pull him down.

And now, you could kiss him freely.

Your past was filled with love and pain. You both will make sure that this life will be a happy one.

You both pulled away from the kiss and spoke in sync.

"I love you."

Taglist:

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @groovyqueer @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, OR TO STEAL ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

#x reader #fanfiction #x female reader #King Baldwin IV x Reader #King Baldwin IV x you #King Baldwin x Reader #King Baldwin x you #King Baldwin #King Baldwin IV #kingdom of heaven #baldwin iv #baldwin x reader #baldwin x you #king baldwin imagine #king baldwin imagines #kingdom of heaven 2005 #kingdom of heaven fandom #kingdom of heaven x reader #kingdom of heaven fanfiction

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flanaganfilm · 2 years ago

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The Midnight Club - Season Two

I'm very disappointed that Netflix has decided not to pursue a second season of THE MIDNIGHT CLUB.

My biggest disappointment is that we left so many story threads open, holding them back for the hypothetical second season, which is always a gamble.

So I'm writing this blog as our official second season, so you can know what might have been, learn the fates of your favorite characters, and know the answers to those dangling story threads from the first season.

So for those of you who want to know what we were planning to do, here's a look at what would have been season 2!

AMESH Season 2 would open with Amesh, his glioblastoma advancing quickly. He would tell the first story of the season, but would be struggling to make it through. We'd focus on his love story with Natsuki for those first few episodes as it becomes clear that Amesh's death is imminent.

Meanwhile, Ilonka is trying to reconcile how she was fooled by Julia Jayne, all while falling further in love with Kevin, and she realizes he may be fading faster than he lets on.

Ilonka begins a serialized story in an effort to encourage him to "stay alive a little longer," like he did in season one. And the story she tells is... REMEMBER ME.

This was the thing I was most excited about for this season.

REMEMBER ME is one of my all-time favorite Pike books - it tells the story of a teenage girl who is pushed off a balcony, and awakens as a ghost. She has to navigate being a spirit while trying to solve her own murder. We would have stretched this story out over 5 episodes. We were going to use it as a vehicle for Ilonka to try to come to terms with the fact that she is going to die, and to begin to trying to wrap her head around being a ghost... but this is the coolest part... the lead character of Ilonka's story wouldn't be played by Ilonka. She'd be played by...

Anya.

Because this is how we live on, isn't it? In the minds of those we leave behind. And Ilonka would use REMEMBER ME as a way to imagine her dear friend Anya, waking up as a ghost, navigating the afterlife. And this sets up one of the best mechanisms of the show - even if a character dies, as long as they're remembered by members of the club, they live on in their stories.

As the story starts to pick up steam, though, the group will have to deal with the death of Amesh, which he greets with grace and bravery.

In his final moments, he sees someone in his room - the Janitor from the first season, as played by Robert Longstreet, who says comforting things to Amesh even though he can't respond.

In his final, final moments, the SHADOW descends upon Amesh, and he is engulfed into it, which reinforces the idea that the Shadow is DEATH...

With Amesh's death comes something that upends the entire thing: a NEW PATIENT. We didn't work out too much about who this would be, but it would be a new roommate for Ilonka. Someone taking Anya's old bed. Ilonka would find herself being initially cold to her - just as Anya was when Ilonka arrived. Even feeling like this new girl shouldn't necessarily be ushered into the Club. But of course they would develop a beautiful friendship over the course of the season. The new girl joins the club, where something else exciting is happening - Cheri is telling a story. We hadn't decided which one, but I think it might have been MONSTER.

Natsuki would be the next to die, which would be heartbreaking. And again, she would talk to the janitor just before it happened... and again, the Shadow would come in the final moments.

For Spence, though, things would take a different turn.

The advancements in HIV treatment in the late 90's would come into play, and we'd see his prognosis change. The HIV cocktail came out in Dec 1995, and we really wanted to explore that.

Spence would ride the swell of antiviral advancements, and by the end of the season, he'd no longer be classified as terminal. In the finale of season 2, Spence would leave Brightcliffe just like Sandra did in Season 1, heading off to manage his disease and live the rest of his life.

But onto the BIG MYSTERIES of the season one... here are some answers: What is up with Dr. Stanton's tattoo and bald head? Well, a few things. First, Dr. Stanton is actually the daughter of the original Paragon cult leader, Aceso. Her nickname was Athena, she wrote the Paragon journal that Ilonka found in S1. She turned on her mother and helped the kids escape, but because she was part of the cult in her teenage years, she had the tattoo.

It was her initials that Ilonka found carved into the tree in season 1 (her maiden name was Georgina Ballard, hence the G.B. that Ilonka finds carved in the tree).

She hated what her mother became, and the atrocities of the cult. She reclaimed the property after her mom was gone, and wanted to change it into a place that celebrated life. She was trying to undo her mother's legacy and leave something behind that was beautiful. She is wearing a wig at the end of S1 not because of a sinister reason, but because she is undergoing chemo. Dr. Stanton has cancer. Having helped so many people deal with disease, she now has to deal with it herself.

Her treatment would be successful, and she'd go into remission, but having to face that - while caring for the terminal kids at Brightcliffe - was going to be a very introspective arc for Stanton.

What about the Living Shadow? It's Death, right? Well... no.

At the end of the season, Kevin will die... followed shortly by Ilonka. And as she is dying, two things will happen. First, she'll find herself talking to the Janitor, played by Robert Longstreet... and she'll make a discovery.

HE is Death. And nothing to be afraid of. It turns out no one else ever saw this character. Stanton has a cleaning service, and the Nurse practitioners make up the rooms - the only people who ever saw this mysterious Janitor were the patients. He is Death, and offers them kind words before they die. Then what was the Shadow?

This is an idea we take directly from the book REMEMBER ME, and we'll see it play out in the final moments of Ilona's final tale. In Pike's book, Shari is pursued by a dark entity called The Shadow. When it finally catches her, though, it turns out it is not a bad thing at all.

The Shadow is THEMSELVES. It's the Unknown. As it engulfs someone, in the last moment of their life, it takes them through a place of understanding and catharsis, preparing them for the next step.

THIS is what happened to Anya in S1 when the Shadow finally reached her - that's why she fantasized a life beyond Brightcliffe, which ultimately let her find acceptance of her death. It looks different for everybody, depending on their mind-set - because it is simply an extension of themselves.

The Shadow is just the final catharsis, a return to our original form - it is a moment of true understanding, and once we experience it, we move on to the next place.

We see the Shadow in full effect when it finally comes for Kevin. KEVIN DIES with Ilonka at his side, and it leads to the biggest reveal of the season:

Who were the Mirror Man and the Cataract Woman?

They were Stanley Oscar Freelan and his wife, who built Brightcliffe (fun trivia, he is named after the real-life Freelan Oscar Stanley, who built my favorite hotel in America - the Stanley Hotel. The Stanley is also the inspiration for THE SHINING!).

But more than that... there's a reason that Ilonka only sees Stanley in the mirror, and sees the Cataract Woman whenever she looked at Kevin. This is something else we took from Pike's original book... these aren't ghosts, but glimpses of PAST LIVES.

Ilonka WAS Stanley Oscar Freelan, and Kevin WAS his wife. They've lived many lives this way, and are true SOUL MATES - they always find each other, and they always fall in love. In this life, they knew it would be a short one, so they agreed to find each other in the house they built. They've been "remembering" who they are, and glimpsing their former selves in reflections, and sometimes when they look at each other. This is also why Ilonka's very first words to Kevin in S1 were "Do I know you?" and why Kevin thought she was familiar as well. They are two souls who always find each other, again and again.

The story is this: Stanley was dying, and built this cliffside home hoping that the seaside air would help him. It did, and he far outlived his prognosis (this is also true of the real-life Freelan Stanley). However, his wife began to succumb to dementia.

She would wander the halls, looking for him ("Darling!") and would even forget to feed herself ("I'm starving...") and she eventually refused to leave the basement. Heartbroken for her, Stanley painted the walls to resemble the woodland view, and the ceiling to resemble the night sky, so that it would be a little more beautiful for her.

He also painted a labyrinth on the floor, which was a technique used to try to curb the effects of dementia. She'd walk the pattern of the maze and it was believed it could help her cognition. Eventually, she developed frightening cataracts, but Stanley loved her through it all.

They were soul mates.

So while they seemed scary in season 1, that was just how Ilonka and Kevin's mind were trying to remember their pasts. We even had their faces distorting in ways consistent with how memories degrade over time. When the Shadow comes for Ilonka, and gives her this understanding - this "remembering" - she realizes she has nothing to fear. She and Kevin will shed these personas and be reborn, and have the joy of finding each other another way. The Shadow comes for her, Death takes her gently, and Ilonka goes off with Kevin back into the cosmos, ready for their next incarnation. The series would end with Cheri telling this story to a whole new table of patients, including our new series leads. Most of our original cast now would exist as stories, a story told to the next "class" of storytellers at the table, all of whom we will have met by the end of the season. A story called "The Midnight Club."

Well, that's it... that was what we had in mind. It's a shame we won't get to make it, but it would be a bigger shame if you guys simply had to live with the unanswered questions and the cliffhanger ending. I loved making this show, and I am so proud of the cast and crew. Particularly our cast, who attacked this story with incredible spirit and bravery each and every day.

But for now, we'll put the fire out, and leave the library dark and quiet. To those before, and to those after. To us now, and to those beyond.

Seen or unseen, here but not here.

I'll always be grateful that I got to be part of this Club.

#the midnight club #season 2 #cancelled #netflix #what might have been #flanaverse #mike flanagan #christopher pike #intrepid pictures #remember me #unanswered questions #loose ends #heather langenkamp #farewell brightcliffe

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a-hazbin-reader · 9 months ago

Note

OK ANOTHER IDEA

OK SO WE KNOW THAT ALASTOR IS A MAMAS BOY AND HAS AN AMAZING RELATIONSHIP WITH HER

SO WHAT IF ALASTOR HAD A FEM S/O BUT SHE HAS A TERRIBLE RELATIONSHIP WITH HER MOM, ITS JUST SO EMOTIONALLY TOXIC (especially with reader being an older sibling)

reader never tells him though because alastors relationship with his mom is good and she doesn’t wanna make him feel bad whenever he talks about her and one day readers mom comes to the hotel and reader DREADS it and becomes snappy but readers mom wins everyone over (of course alastor too). So when reader explains that she doesn’t want her mom around alastor can’t understand why and reader feels betrayed its only later when readers mom shows her true colors towards reader. And reader of course bites back (or at least tries too)

So basically angst to fluff and SORRY IF THATS SO MUCH😭😭

👀 Mommy issues??? 👀

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Emotionally Abusive mother, Reader suffering, Reader gets grabbed a few times, Ambiguous ending for mama

Description: ☝️⬆️

When it comes to mothers, it's safe to say you and Alastor had very different experiences

His mother was full of warmth and kindness towards him, doing her best to build him up into a great man

She loved him greatly and it shows whenever he talks about her

But your mother?? Your mother saw you as fucking competition and always found ways to put you down, to make herself better than you

Well maybe she should be the one who was cooking the meals, getting your younger siblings off to school on time or making sure everyone had clean clothes

Just the thought of her made your stomach flip and your legs shake

She would put you down all your life while claiming it was so that you could be a great woman just like her, but not too great, you have to remember who the better woman is

Well now you're both in hell so-

You put as much distance between her and yourself as you could, living your afterlife without her influence

You even got yourself a handsome powerful overlord boyfriend and new friends to share your life with

Even though you're supposed to be in hell, you couldn't be happier

At least you were until your mother showed up at the hotel, her face full of faux worry and tears

"Oh my precious girl! This is where you've been hiding? I was so worried!!"

Before Charlie can even shut the door, your mother has already shoved her way inside and literally dug her claws into you, hugging you

It's all you can do not to throw up, smothered by her familiar scent and grip, hearing her voice again after all this time

"Now let Mommy take a look at you-oh!!! And here I was worried that you were starving! Good to know you've put some weight on those bones!"

And it's already starting-

And now she's crying and rocking you in her arms, cooing about how much she's missed you and how she's never letting you go again

Charlie and the others are just staring at the two of you, completely enraptured by your mother, like everyone always is

She loved being the center of attention

When you finally come to your senses you push her away and create some distance, disturbed by the worried looks everyone is giving her

"Mom, why are you here?"

Oh don't everyone look at you like you're the bad guy!! She's the one who's only here because she wants something!!

"Maybe I wouldn't have to come track you down if you would just visit your poor mother every once in a while...she never even calls me, you know!"

And now she's crying again, Charlie immediately going to comfort her while Vaggie gives you a dirty look

Fucking mommy issues much? Don't fall for this crap

"I don't want to visit you, so just leave-"

"Well now, who is this~?"

Alastor! Yes! He can make her leave! You turn to give your boyfriend a pleading look but your mother catches his attention first

"Oh don't worry about who I am.. just a poor lonely mother who came to see her daughter...but I guess I'll show myself out.."

Alastor doesn't have to guess who she's talking about, even in death you always looked like your mother

His smile gets surprisingly warm and soft, taking your mother's hand in his own in a disgusting display of affection that used to only be for you

"You're Y/N's mother? My my, I should've guessed! You must have so many stories of her from her life! I simply must insist that you say."

ALASTOR NO

You feel sick but nobody notices, your mother already soaking up their attention and winning their hearts

So you turn and leave the hotel, unable to stand being in her presence any longer, you don't miss the smug look she gives you on your way out

You spend all day trying to avoid going back to the hotel until you're sure your mother is gone

You're more than disappointed to find her drinking tea with Alastor, the two of them laughing, her placing her hand on top of his

She always used to try and go after your boyfriends and that hasn't changed either

She hasn't changed

"Oh darling~! We hadn't realized you left! Alastor and I were simply having a moment~"

Alastor lights up when he sees you, only to be visibly confused by your troubled expression

"Y/N! Your mother was just telling me about her life before you! She was quite a wildcard back then!"

Your mother is practically drooling over him, rubbing his hand and winking

"I'm still wild if you ever care to find out!"

You've had it

You tug your mother's hand off of Alastor, forcing her to stand up and look you in the eyes

"You need to leave! Right now!"

And here come the waterworks again

"Y/N..! Darling, what did I do wrong? I'm your mother please don't throw me out like this!"

You just start pushing her towards the door and you slam it shut behind her, sighing in relief

That is until you look at Alastor's face, his smile seeming strained

"Y/N! You can't just throw her out like that, not only is that bad manners but that's no way to treat the woman who raised you!"

Raised you? You raised yourself!!

"Alastor, you don't know what you're talking about so please just stay out of it. You don't know what she's like-"

You're trying to stay calm-

"She's your mother, it's not like she's some evil creature-"

"SHE'S IN HELL OF COURSE SHE'S EVIL-"

"So are you and I, my dear."

You try to put your foot down, tell him that you don't want her here but he's already opening the door for her and letting her back in

She looks so pleased with herself

He invites her to stay the night because of course he does, he would do it for his own mother so why not yours

You try not to give her the satisfaction of seeing you cry but your eyes are already hot and watery

"I-I'm going to bed..!"

Alastor calls for you, trying to resolve things then and there but the only response he gets is your door slamming shut

He goes to go after you but your mother stops him with a gentle hand to the shoulder

"Now now...let her cool off for a bit then I'll go make sure she's alright, a mother always knows how to cheer up her child~"

It feels like you spend hours crying in your bed, feeling so hurt that Alastor took her side over yours

Your mom isn't like his, she doesn't nurture, she just takes from you and bullies you

Later, just when you've about cried yourself to sleep, you hear the bedroom door open

"Alastor..?"

"Not a chance, pet."

Now what does she want

"Why are you even here?"

Suddenly she pounces on you, grabbing your wrists tightly, eyes wild with fury she must've been containing this whole time

You don't even know why she's so mad at you, you haven't seen her in years-

"You think you're better than me now, is that it? Now that you're on your own, living in some fancy hotel, got some powerful boytoy, hiding behind hell's princess?"

As a kid, she seemed so strong but now you easily rip out of her grasp and manage to create some distance between you two

"I'm not hiding behind anyone! I'm just trying to get away from you!"

"Oh no no no, that's not how this works! I am your mother! If I have to be miserable and live in filth then so do you!"

"Why are you even here!?"

"Because it's not fair! I deserve to be here! Not some ungrateful little bitch who just happened to fall out of me!"

She lunges at you and you try to dodge her but she manages to grab you by your hair, yanking you back

You're about to start swinging when Alastor is suddenly there, watching the two of you in bewilderment

Then that bewilderment melts away into understanding, then anger

The radio sounds in the room are suddenly deafening, your mother letting go of you so she can cover her ears

You take the chance to kick her away, watching as she tumbles and loses consciousness from the impact

Alastor kneels beside you but you flinch away from him, still feeling hurt

"Y/N...I'm so sorry..." He does look properly ashamed, his smile a little watery

"Why didn't you just tell me that she was like this..?"

How could you even begin to start?? That you didn't want to somehow sour his opinion of mothers by telling him about your own?

That you didn't want him to feel guilty for having a mother who loved him while you grew up having to be a mother to your siblings because your own mom had none to give??

It's just word vomit at this point, but Alastor simply gathers you into his arms, tutting as he checks your scalp and fixes your hair

When he gets to your wrists where your mother grabbed than his smile turns positively venomous, giving your mother a deadly look

"What do you want me to do with her? Anything you ask..."

You're a little irritated that he brought her up, having been too relaxed by the feeling of his lips against your palm

"I just want her out of here..."

And that's all it takes, Alastor calls for Niffty and has her take out the trash, her scuttling out gleefully while dragging your mother

Niffty doesn't even care, she's just happy to have a new toy

You didn't realize how stressed out you were until it was just the two of you, Alastor rubbing your back soothingly

You don't know when you fall asleep but when you wake up Alastor is kissing the side of your face, looking as apologetic as he can be

You manage to convince him to apologize in morning snuggles and by the time you two come downstairs everyone else is awake

"Where is Y/N's mom?"

Not Niffty giggling and running out of the room

Alastor simply shakes his head and wraps an arm around your waist to hold you closer

"She is gone and won't ever be visiting again, I would like to ask that nobody brings her up again~"

Something about the way he says it manages to shut everyone up

Alastor takes you out to eat your favorite breakfast and spends the day spoiling you

He doesn't bring up the events of last night until the two of you are in bed, entangled in each other's arms

"You didn't ruin my opinion of mothers, you know."

"I didn't?"

"No, in fact, it sounds like you were quite the mother back in your day~"

Not his hand rubbing your belly

OH MAMA THIS ONE TOOK ALL DAY! I hope you liked it!!

#hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #alastor hazbin x reader #alastor x reader #hazbin x reader

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wandaslittlelove · 11 days ago

Note

Can you make a plot where Agatha actually dies and goes to meet Nicky along with Rio, but that way you know when she takes the souls, she doesn't stay with them, the souls stay with another entity that has been keeping Nicholas company until his mothers come to the afterlife, and she is like a third mother to him? All very comfort and fluff?

Spirit Mother

Pairing: Agatha Harkness x Rio vidal x Reader, Nicholas Scratch x reader (platonic) Warnings: Reader is briefly given the name Disa which means "goddess" Or "active spirit"

“Are you ready to see him?” Rio asks as she holds her hand out for Agatha. Agatha hesitates for a second before gently grabbing her lover’s hand.

“He’s been taken care of?” Agatha asks as they begin walking. Rio smiles at her, the world shifting slightly as they begin to enter the domain of the unliving.

“He has. She loves them all just like a mother would.” As they enter a variety of different creatures and people pass by them. Eventually Rio leads them to a small cottage. It looks almost like the one they had lived in before everything happened. Rio motions for Agatha to open the door.

The door opens with a soft creek. Walking into the home it’s silent. Almost as if no one is there. Agatha loses hope for a second. Afraid that he wasn’t going to be here. Before her ears pick up on the voice she hasn’t heard in decades and the sight of her son. Her baby. He’s standing right there.

“Mom!” Nicky shouts as he lets go of your hand and runs towards her. She hugs him tightly burying her face into his hair. Looking up she finally sees you. You're wearing a white flowy dress and standing with a smile on your face. When the two pull away Agatha watches as Rio walks over to you holding out her hand.

“Come meet Agatha, my love” Agatha had known that Rio was dating you when they were together. It was something she was okay with and even encouraged Rio to be with you. She had heard so many stories from Rio. It made her a little jealous at times. That she couldn’t see the being that her lover seemed to be infatuated with. Being her now she sees exactly what Rio sees in you. You take Rio’s hand into yours and let yourself be led over to Agatha. Nicky looks at you with so much happiness and love that it makes her heart melt.

“Hello, I am known by many as Disa. But you may call me y/n” You say with a soft smile on your face.

“I'm Agatha. Thank you… For taking care of my boy.” She says as she still holds onto him tightly.

“Of course. I made a promise. Although I would have done it anyway.” You look over to Rio and Agatha see’s the love that dances in your eyes while looking at her. Looking back at Agatha she notices that you have that same look in your eyes.

“This world is much like the living one. We have everything they do. Although things like eating, breathing, and sleeping are not a necessity some decide to anyways to feel connected to the living. This place is your’s, Nicky’s and Rio’s when she visits.” You crouch down to Nicky’s height and give him a tight hug and kiss on the head.

“You’re leaving?” He questions quietly while gripping onto the front of your dress.

“There are other children that need me, Nicky. You have your mom again.” You say softly whipping tears that begin to fall from his eyes.

“You're also my mom.” You glance up at Agatha waiting for the backlash that usually happens whenever children say that to you. But instead you find soft eyes staring back.

“You could visit.” Agatha speaks quickly. “Maybe I could find out why Rio and Nicky like you so much.” You can hear the bit of flirting in her voice and let out a soft chuckle. Rio stands not far behind watching the interaction. She had hoped this would happen. That the two people she loved would find love for one another.

“I guess that could be arranged” Nicky smiles happily and hugs you tightly again.

“Mom, mama! Come look at what we made earlier.” Nicky grabs both of their hands ready to drag them to his room where the surprise for them laid but stayed put until you began to follow them.

Rio smiled brightly as she was dragged to the room. This was perfect. Her two loves and son all together. She hoped in the future you four would be a real family.

#rio vidal x fem reader #agatha all along rio #agatha harkness x rio vidal #rio vidal x reader #rio vidal #rio vidal x female reader #rio vidal x y/n #rio vidal x agatha harkness #agatha harkness x you #agatha harkness x female reader #agatha harkness x reader #agatha harkness #agathario x reader #nicholas scratch

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kirozai · 11 days ago

Text

: ̗̀➛ his bloodshot eyes.

blade's eyes have always mesmerized you, and you always enjoy reminding him he's yours until death. blade's response? he's all yours.

content warnings :: "yandere"!blade, equallyinlove!reader, gn! reader (but lipstick is mentioned), uncanny blade, no use of y/n pairing(s) :: blade x reader word count :: 581 A/N :: hey.... my obsession with blade forced me to come back

“love ME.” you declare.

beautiful, bloody eyes stare straight at you

“don’t look at anyone else but me.” you order

in your hands is the face of a man who’s killed and has been killed thousands and thousands of times. a man whose only shadow is death. destined to run trying to catch it but to no avail.

for now, death can wait. anything can wait for you

because your pretty eyes gaze at him with desire and love, a feeling he’s never felt, never had the chance to experience. your hands, free of scars compared to blade’s, glide over his face.

the face that many see before they meet their final moments. though you feel blessed to see the stellaron hunter's face every morning under the cosmic stars.

your eyes make their way to his lips, smothered with lipstick due to your attack of kisses.

your eyes then move back to his.

and those bloodshot eyes stare right into your soul.

with need and wanton.

blade wants death but NEEDS you.

even with the immense need, there are no worries in his mind about losing you. the years you've spent together prove that he no longer needs to fear losing you too. and even if you did want to leave, he would just make you stay.

so he smiles. a deranged smile

he pulls you closer to him and wraps his strong arms tighter around you. you're sitting in his lap giving you leeway to look down at his pretty face.

the tighter he holds you the larger your smile grows.

you are two insane individuals. insanely in love with that. a tragedy kafka would describe as "hopeless".

blade chases after death, but finding you makes him want to take you to the afterlife with him. your relationship is the epitome of "where even death will not do us part."

you are well aware that blade will not let you out of his grasp. he holds you tighter than his battered blade.

yet...

you are the master and he is the servant.

you demand, blade shall fulfill

you speak, blade will listen

anything you wish for, from the smallest trinket to the death of someone. it will be by blade's hands.

you always reply with a short "thank you".

your voice lulls him into a sweet dream a dream where only you and him exist. one where you can dance for all of eternity. one without the voices and the ever-looming death.

in his twisted mara-stricken mind, a small sentiment worms its way in. "love" is not a good enough word in blade's vocabulary. no words could describe his twisted, sugary-sweet, sick love. some call it adoration others call it unhealthy. blade has no care for anything other than you.

you are his cure. his sedation for the rabid animal that he becomes when struck. you are his heart, the thing that keeps him alive, mentally and even physically.

he brings his bandaged hand up to your face and briefly brushes over it. he reminds himself again that you are the glue to his broken soul and he refuses to live without you. you piece him together when his sanity is on the brink of complete destruction, but you are also the reason why blade falls apart.

by your hands, and yours alone.

he looks at you with blank eyes but you are well aware of what goes on inside his headspace.

he has a single priority.

and that’s you.

#blade x reader #hsr #hsr blade #blade hsr #blade x you #blade x y/n #blade x female reader #honkai star rail #honkai #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #honkai star rail x you #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader #yandere blade #yandere blade x reader

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gallusrostromegalus · 1 year ago

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In honor of the season, what are holidays like in the spirit world? Have they been infected by Christmas yet? I imagine they inherit some popular ones from the world of the living, but also the unique holidays of the afterlife must be wild.

You come to me, on the eve of the High Holiday of Halloween, and ask me about Christmas??

I'm kidding, you're asking about holidays in general but my unsuspecting Agnostic Ass just got jumpscared by Mariah Carey, and I'm sensitive. It's not the season. Not for another 48 hours at least. Do Not Violate The Sacred Treaty.

...

Anyway, this ended up in my drafts for a few days, so: Christianity has not really gotten a foothold in soul society, but via cultural osmosis "Xmas" has. Nobody in a Shinto afterlife believes in monotheism, but they love a holiday and a Saint is practically a Kami anyway, but.... It's "Xmas" because the holiday in no way remotely resembles Christmas as practiced in the living world.

---

Scene: 4th Division hospital, a few days after Rukia is rescued and Aizen departed for Las Noches:

"-CHAD!!" Ichigo bellows, almost falling in through the doorway of the hospital room, wheezing.

"I am very sure you are not supposed to be out of bed." Chad frowned, looking up from the copy of the history of soul society Captain Komamura had lent him to read while he recovered.

It was strange, to be in the care of the very people he had thought to be senseless killers not two weeks ago, but he was finding the Shinigami a generally agreeable lot. Even if the captain that controlled the hospital reminded him unpleasantly of a nun with her chaste dress, soft voice and understated but constant threat of violence.

"YOU NEED YO HEAR THIS-! He- hee-" Ichigo stumbled over to his bed and curled up on his side overcome with giggles.

"... I'm beginning to think I am incorrect." Sighed the pale-haired man at the door, frowning down at Ichigo.

"Jushiro Ukitake, I don't think I've had the pleasure of your acquaintance yet, Mr.-?" The man introduced himself and offered Chad a hand.

"Uh. Yasutora. Sado Yasutora. But everyone calls me Chad." He mumbled, cautiously shaking hands with the stranger. "You're um. You're Miss Rukia 's boss, right?"

"Yes! I believe you are her friend with the pet parakeet and good throwing arm, yes?" Ukitake beamed at him and Chad was suddenly struck by the idea that he'd seen Ukitake at a family reunion before - Impossible, obviously, but the man had the intense aura of a distant uncle. "Good show that, she loves being hurled at an opponent!"

"Oh. Thank you." Chad mumbled, Ichigo finally catching his breath. "...What are you incorrect about?"

"Christmas, apparently." Ukitake frowned, and Ichigo dissolved into snickering again. "He says you're something of an expert on the actual mythology, I only have third-hand accounts, you see-"

"No!" Gasped Ichigo, reaching over to tug at Mr. Ukitake's sleeve. "You gotta tell him!"

"I am Catholic, yes." Chad nodded. "-go on. It can't be less accurate than the version Dr. Kurosaki- Uh, Ichigo's dad- gave me last year."

"Yeah it can-" Ichigo wheezed.

"Well, ah- Christmas is a birthday celebration for an important religious figure, right?" Ukitake tried.

"Yep!" Chad nodded, giving Ukitake a thumbs up.

"The birth of Rudolph, the Star-nosed reindeer?" Ukitake tried.

Chad stared at him blankly for a moment, before his thumbs-up slowly wilted into a thumbs down and Ichigo vibrated silently with hysterics. Chad opened and closed his mouth a few times, hand waving, then covered his mouth, searching for words. Eventually he reached out and gently put his hand on the captain's shoulder to explain as delicately as possible-

"...No." Said Chad.

Ichigo rolled off the bed with a dull thud.

"-I am, however, fascinated." Chad elaborated. "Please continue."

"...I'm really sorry that I am this ignorant of your religious dogma." Ukitake winced.

"It's- don't worry about it. Tell me what you think happens on Rudolph's birthday." Chad said, sitting back and pressing his hands together.

"Well- oh, how does it start? Right- there's the Monks- Saints? that give out presents to well-behaved children during the winter holidays- Saint Claus, Saint Nicolas and Saint Kringle. And they're all very old men, and with good judgement about who does and does not deserve presents, so they're called the three wise men!"

Ichigo made a noise like a teakettle from the floor.

"Oh. Oh no." Chad giggled.

"And they travel the entire world giving out presents, but that's A Lot of houses and it was taking them longer and longer so they prayed to... I forget the name Catholics have for Amaterasu. Guadalupe?"

Chad made a noise not unlike a violently squeezing a rubber duck, and started to shake.

"-So they pray for some help getting all the presents to the children, and Whoever She Is says they're doing good deeds, but she wants to see if they're REALLY worthy of that kind of miracle, so she sends them on a journey to recover some lost holy treasures, and on the way each of the holy men wrestles with and tames a demon representing some vice or another-"

"-I. I think you've gotten the Star of Bethlehem mixed up with The Journey West." Chad realized, hands pressed together in front of his face.

"Yes that's right! She marks the direction they're supposed to be going with a bright star! So they go West, following the star! "-Ok the three wise men traveling from the east following a star part is, in fact, accurate. What's this about demons?"

"It's some sort of allegory about how all the Saints are virtues so the demons represent the vices people fall into around the holiday- Being punitive or penurious and ruining good things for others. They all had weird names-" Ukitake frowned.

"What's going on?" Captain Kyorauku asked, sticking his head in the door.

"You'll know!" Ukitake chirped with excitement. "-What are the three demons the saints conquer in the Christmas myth?"

"Krampus the Child-beater, Scrooge the Miser, and... Ah fuck I always mispronounce the last one. He's green and he sucks? The Goonch?" Shunsui frowned.

"THE GOONCH?" Ichigo shrieked from the floor.

"I. I think you mean The Grinch." Chad said, experiencing a brand new combination of horror, delight and fascination that felt like the emotional equivalent of a shrimp color.

"That's him! Oscar The Grinch!" Shunsui nodded. "Why, its only August? Also, what's Kurosaki doing on the floor?

"We are apparently very misninformed about the mythlogical origins of Christmas. This amuses Kurosaki to the point of hysterics." Ukitake explained, lightly nudging Ichigo aside with his foot and sitting on the foot of Chad's bed.

"Your version is so much better." Chad said, vibrating with excitement. "What are these treasures they're supposed to get?"

"Oh you had to ask- Shunsui love, you were the one that heard it all from Captain Kuchiki when he did his tour in the living world."

"Oh for fuckssake of course it's Byakuya-" Ichigo groaned from the floor, and Ukitake gently kicked him in the ribs to shush him.

"Uhhhh... Let's see-" Shunsui scratched at his beard."There's Eight Lost Treasures, they're all magical bells that give anyone who rings them supernatural abilities- there's the Bell of Speed, Bell of Grace, Bell of Balance, Bell of Cunning, Bell of... ah fuck. I always forget the two in the middle... -Oh! Bell of destination- not like fate, like, always being able to find your way to where you're going. Bell of Affection, Bell that gives power over wind and Bell that gives power over lighting!"

Chad blinked at him, then slowly crumpled into a ball.

"...Mr. Yasutora?" Ukitake asked, gently touching his shoulder.

"This is amazing. I love it. I'm going to die." he whimpered, voice high and tight as he struggled to breathe from laughing.

"We may have already lost Mr. Kurosaki." Shunsui muttered, poking Ichigo's shoulder with his toe. "Anyway, they conquer the demons, get all the magical bells and make it to the distant city, aand Amaterasu says 'Great job!" Ukitake continued, enthusiastic as they approached his favorite part. "-But she says 'Here's your final test: I'm going to give a special gift to one of these creatures, you tell me which is the most deserving of my favor.' and then she turns them loose in some kind of farm with talking animals. They're all good and noble animals that have done many brave deeds- dogs saved children from drowning, horse that ran across a battlefield to deliver a message that stopped a war and so on- eventually the saints find a brand new baby fawn with a bright red nose. Since it was born just that morning, it's never done anything of note, and the other animals don't really like it because it's red nose means its kind of sickly and it cant see well so they don't want to play with it."

"YES!" Chad cheered, making the connection.

"Oh, that part is right?" Ukitake perked up.

"Not even remotely, but it's amazing. They pick the fawn right?

"That's right! The saints tell Amaterasu that the Baby deer Rudolph is the one that deserves her blessing, because while all the animals here are noble and good, no good deed is better than another, and of all the animals, the sickly little deer is the one that really needs her help."

"Oh no." Ichigo whimpered from the floor. "That's actually like. genuinely heartwarming."

"Amaterasu applauds them, because they've made the right choice, and she gives the power of the star to the baby deer so it very literally glows like a headlight, and She turns the eight magical bells into a herd of deer that all have the powers the bells they were made from had, so Rudolph has a family and the three wise men have a team of nine magical deer to pull the flying sleigh she gives them, and then they are able to deliver all the presents to all the children of the world in one night, and they do it every year on Rudolph's birthday, because he was the first one to receive a proper Christmas present!" Ukitake finished, giving Chad an excitable two thumbs up.

Chad, slowly tipped forward, faintly hissing with silent laughter, then rolled off the bed to join Ichigo on the floor. Ukitake peered after him with concern, until chad slowly raised a weak, shaking hand up to give Ukitake a thumbs up back.

"-What I can't figure is how the bucket of fried chicken fits into all that?" Shunsui pondered, and the boys shrieked with laughter.

#AEIWAM #An Elephant Is Warm And Mushy #Bleach #Bleach fanfic #chad yasutora #jushiro ukitake #shunsui kyoraku #ichigo kurosaki #Christmas mention #new frontiers in Syncretic Mythology #five or six kinds of blasphemy in one go

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redfoxwritesstuff · 6 months ago

Text

A Taste of Sugar (Part 1 of 2)

Alastor x reader (Hazbin Hotel)

Part 1 rated M, Part 2 rated E 18+ for adult content

TW part 1: Light jealousy, trauma related to past food insecurity, trauma recovery.

TW Part 2: Explicate smut, see part 2 for details.

Almost 4k words for part one. Ps- Fuck you Nonny, this is what you get for trying to tell me what I'll write

~<3 Love, Kit.

As you work through the trauma of your life and starving to death, you dismantle your stash of snacks for what you hope will be the final time. Snack cakes, cookies and crackers are given to everyone around you, except one resident in the hotel whom you knew wouldn't enjoy or consume the treats. Then, as the flow of treats tricked to a stop, stash dismantled, small brown boxes containing treats began to appear at your door. Simple, delicious and seemingly homemade treats without so much as a note.

He watched and he waited, each week for your offer. Each week, no offer came and again he left his gift at your door. Why would you not think of him? Why would you not see him? What did he have to do for you to consider him?

~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~~<3~~~~~<3

A Taste of Sugar

You found yourself in Hell after a rather uneventful death that made of for its lack of excitement with lasting trauma. Now, sitting in a circle in a hotel that functioned more like a rehabilitation center and refuge than actual hotel, you were expected to recount it to the fellow residents that had become more like friends.

It was Charlie’s latest grand idea of how to build trust and bonds between the group and process negative feelings that could hold each of you back from redemption. You didn’t think that was how redemption worked but whatever, it wasn’t your reputation on the line and it got you a safe room to sleep in and three meals a day.

The others had grand stories of murders, crimes and addictions that all landed them in the grave, one way or another, often taking others with them. They had spoken of dark indulgences.

Now they teased you, your crimes amounting to nothing compared to theirs. Damned for the simple crime of being born poor and attempting, rather unsuccessfully, to survive.

You had died fairly young, having lived most of your life on the streets only to starve to death, alone, cold and in the dark. The shelters were full and the food banks near useless without somewhere to cook the food. Stealing food could only get you so far when you had little to choose from. You died dreaming of a warm meal, cooked at home. You died begging to world for a simple snack cake to quiet the pain in your stomach. You died alone, cold and hungry.

The divine didn’t seem to care that you only stole what you thought you needed to survive. Really, not even that considering you starved to death. Maybe you didn’t pray enough. Maybe you didn’t go to the right church. Maybe you didn’t give away what little food you had often enough.

Explaining that felt like shining a spotlight on every way you failed. You failed in life and you failed in death. Not good enough to get into heaven and yet you were also not bad enough to have a respected place in hell. Weak, unless and fueled by fear of once again going without.

“So, that’s why you’ve always got snacks?” Angel pointed out, making you blush hard in shame. The trauma of your life hand a lasting grip around your actions even in death.

“I’m trying to be better about it,” You felt shame in how you tended to hoard snacks in your room, rarely actually doing more than a little nibbling at them. Charlie did a great job of ensuring all residents had access to three meals a day, though someone was almost always missing from one meal or another. “I know I don’t have to worry about starving here, it’s just hard.”

In the shadows of the hall, red eyes watched the group. A smile stretched in the distance as they discussed how the traumas of life leaked into the afterlife and the ways you could move past your traumas.

He couldn’t say why he was drawn to you. You were little more than a lost doe and yet you plagued his mind. He wanted to cast you out so you’ll leave his thoughts as much as he wanted to keep you as a little pet for his own amusements. There was time enough to figure out what to do about the conflicting urges. For now, he can simply watch from a distance, from the shadows.

Rosie had told him that in her expert opinion he was ‘catching feelings’ when he had lamented his inability to settle on a course of action. That aggravated him more than anything else, well almost. The utter glee at the concept was more annoying by just a touch.

He was above romantic sentiments just as he was above the carnal desires of the flesh. Rosie was mistaken, Alastor decided as he also made the decision that he would do nothing about you. There was no reason to let you plague him any longer. Simply look away, move on with his days and it would pass.

Without the desire to do anything about this strange draw to you, Alastor settled on watching you from across the room. He watched as you ate, as you threw out the occasional small package of snacks.Turns out, he wasn’t very good at looking away from you.

It didn’t escape him how you would frown, discussing your decision with Angel. You had decided you would no longer hoard snacks and oh, how proud of you the group was.

You were growing. Healing. Blooming.

If you’d talk to him, he’d tell you that very thing. Yes, he decided as you gave away snacks that he would tell you just how proud he was of you when you presented him with a part of your stash.

He watched and he waited as you gave out cakes, crackers and cookies to everyone else.

But never to him. No, it was always Angel and the other residents you shared your spoils with. Not once had you sought him out to offer him a cracker, cake or cookie. Not that he indulged in processed snacks or sweets on anything but the rarest occasion but that didn’t stop his shadow from bristling in annoyance behind him.

He wanted to be offered. To be recognized. To be thought of. To be noticed.

But he didn’t have feelings for you, he told himself. And that’s what he kept telling himself as the purging of your stash came to an end, drawer empty and flow of snacks becoming a trickle, an occasional treat purchased with the intention of sharing.

Oh, how you’d healed.

~~~~~<3

The first time it happened, you nearly stepped on it. Someone had left a simple plain cardboard box in front of your room door without so much as a note attached to it. Inside were two equally simple cookies. Nothing large, nothing fancy.

Setting them on your desk, you debated eating them or not. They looked good but when you had asked around, no one knew where they had come from.

“Guess you’ve got a secret admirer,” Angel had teased you. “If the cookies are good, you should date them.”

You didn’t know how you’d pull that off without knowing who left them though. Surely they were safe to eat, it’s not like random people came and left the hotel.

What’s the worst that could happen, if they were drugged? You were safe in your room. If they made you sick you had a private bathroom. You were already dead so what’s the harm?

The cookies were good, it turned out. You had nibbled on them over a few days, spreading out the treat. It seemed as soon as they were gone though, a new box appeared at the door. This time with a handful of crackers, some sliced cheese, fruit and sliced cured meat.

This continued for months, treats that were simple, modest and only enough to last for a few days. No matter how quickly or slowly you had consumed the gift, the night you discarded the empty box always brought a new box in the morning.

~~~~~<3

You leaned against the counter watching Alastor work. It was late and though you were not hungry, you often found yourself in the kitchen. Just being able to go down and look at the food you had access to had been helping you resist the urge to hoard food in your room when ever you felt that anxiety claw at you.

It helped too, that you had been able to look forward to the small snack boxes that showed up.

“Something on your mind, Dear?” Alastor didn’t look to you as he spoke, instead keeping his eyes on ingredients he was measuring out.

You hadn’t expected to find him in the kitchen. It was late and those who didn’t leave to party were asleep. Husk was even passed out at the bar.

“Not really,” You said after a moment.

“The food is all here,” Alastor said with a hum, “If that’s what you’re here to check.”

“Oh, No! I-”

“We’ve all got our quirks.” Alastor cut you off, pouring water into a bowl and adding yeast.

“What are you making?” You asked rather than face admitting that he was right about what you were there to do.

“Beignets,” Alastor said, mildly annoyed.

“Those are like donuts, right?” You asked, hoping that you had imagined the sound.

“Indeed, they’re similar.” Alastor kept his words curt.

“For breakfast tomorrow?”

“At this hour, it’s today.” Alastor swallowed his annoyance at the endless questions and lied, “Yes, for breakfast.”

“I’ll go, sorry for bothering you.” You stepped backward as you took the hint, smile falling from your face.

“No,” He answered too fast, bitter sigh huffing through his always present smile, “I’ll need someone to try the test one.”

“Oh.”

You sat, watching Alastor work. He mixed flour into the liquid. This was a way you had never seen Alastor before. It crossed your mind that he probably didn’t let many see him with his coat and gloves off, smile turned soft and flour dusting his dark hands.

But he was letting you.

His coat was draped over the back of the chair you sat in, brushing against your skin as you shifted positions. His gloves were folded neatly and discarded on the table. He worked with his sleeves rolled up and a tune filling the air as he alternated between humming and softly singing to himself.

It was beautiful. You were engrossed watching him work. The sound of his voice seemed to wrap around you, caressing you with warmth.

You’d never spent much time with Alastor. You knew he was a deer, like yourself but until now, you’d thought his only deer trait had been the antlers and ears atop his head. It hadn’t occurred to you that he would have a little fluffy tail to match your own.

It should have, you had fluffy ears to match his though with your longer hair, it was more obvious that they were indeed ears. You watched as his red and black tail moved with him as he put the dough in the icebox to chill.

“What now?” You asked, leaning back from him.

“We wait, my little doe,” Alastor sat front of you across the table, leaning into your space across the small table.

“For how long?” You ask, not sure what to make of spending so much time with him.

“A while,” Alastor said, “But I assure you the wait is well worth it.”

“But you don’t like sweets.”

“You know what I like?” Alastor’s dark hand, stained by blood that could never be washed away dramatically rose to rest over his heart with a flourish as he leaned forward even more. “I’m ever so flattered.”

You stuttered, not sure how to backtrack. Alastor laughed at your flustered stuttering before taking pity on you, pointing a long claw tipped finger so close to you that you swore he was going to stab you with his nail.

“You, my dear, do enjoy sweets however.”

You didn’t know what to say to that, face warm. He knew that you cared for sweets. You were tired but seeing this relaxed side of him was thrilling. That chased away most of the fatigue, driving you to stay and find someway to push the conversation along.

“I didn’t know you liked to cook,” You struggled to decide how to fill the silence.

“I’ve always found it rather enjoyable.” Alastor cocked his head to the side as he watched you. “My mother taught me.”

“That must have been nice.” You weren’t sure what to say, having never really gotten to experience the love of a mother yourself.

“It was.” Alastor watched as you leaned forward, resting your head on your arms. There was something about you that he couldn’t put down. “Did your mother not teach you to cook?”

Your ears sagged atop your head at the question, earning a raised eyebrow from the man across from you. “She didn’t teach me much of anything. I was on my own since I was fourteen.”

“Oh, Dear,” Alastor said as if he didn’t know that already, “How dreadful.”

“I never really had enough food for learning to cook to be a thing.” You shrugged your shoulders, not lifting your head as you stretched out your arm to use it as a pillow. You shifted, allowing you to face him even as you used the side of the table to lounge on.

“But you do now.” Alastor pointed out as he sat with you in a kitchen full of food.

“Full of Charlie’s and the hotel’s food.” You said, “I couldn’t risk wasting it. It’s enough that everyone shares with me what they make and,” You shake your head awkwardly against your arm, cutting off the thought.

“And?” Alastor pressed.

“Someone’s been leaving little boxes of treats at my door. I wish I knew who it was.”

“Why?” Alastor leaned back now, putting distance between the two of you, “Does the origin of a gift matter?”

“I-” Your eyes teared up as your voice strangled in your throat. You sat up, not sure why you were being so open with him.

“You~?” Alastor asked in a sing song tone as a tear slipped from your eye and ran down. His eyes followed it as it cut a path down your cheek. It was maddening to him, what you made him feel. How watching that tear captured his attention, yet he raged at the fact that it was born from pain in your heart.

“I’ve never had anyone give me treats like that.” You said, wiping the tear away much to his disappointment.

“Never? Surely a suiter gifted you treats while courting for your attention.” Oh, why did saying that raise bile in his throat?

“I’ve never-” You laugh, not sure why the idea of discussing this with Alastor made you feel uneasy. “There was never any suiters. No boys. No one.”

“I struggle to believe that.” Alastor laughed as he stood from his chair, “Come my dear, wash your hands and join me.”

You didn’t know what he wanted but Alastor was a man to be obeyed. While you were both deer, he had far more power than you could ever dream to possess. If he wanted to demand your help, you had little choice but to comply.

Sure, the hotel offered a sense of safety but if Alastor wanted to squash you like a bug, shared demonic traits or not, there was nothing that could stop him. Well, Charlie would but she was asleep.

Alastor had the counter floured and a small portion of dough out as you joined him, drying your hands. “Where’s the rest?”

“That’ll be fried up in the morning, if it passes our test.”

He pulled you in front of the counter before stepping close behind you. It was hard to ignore the overwhelming presence of him looming over your shoulder as he reached around to grab the rolling pin only to pass it to you.

“Roll it out until I say,” He directed as he covered the pin in flour only to place it in your hands.

As you worked, his hands rested on either side of you against the counter, boxing you in from behind while not touching you at all. It was hard for you to ignore how close he was.

It was like the man was taking over your mind, something you hadn’t expected considering you hadn’t given him much thought in the months before. The smell of his cologne seemed to surround, making your head light. You weren’t sure why you were reacting to him like this but it left your nerves buzzing.

Now all you could think of was the way his breath caressed over your ears, the way his hands looked without the gloves, dusted with flour, the sound of his voice as he hummed and the smell of his cologne.

“There.” Alastor said, taking the pin from you and replacing it with a dough cutter. “Squares, about the size of your fist.”

Cool air swept around you as Alastor moved away, checking the pot of oil heating on the stove. You’d only just begun to relax under his looming presence and now he was gone and damnit, you missed it.

There was just enough dough to form two squares with some left over. Alastor scooped them up before dropping them in the oil. You stood next to him, watching as the oil came to life around the dough.

“How long do we cook them?” You asked over the sound of the violently bubbling oil.

“Not long.” Alastor said from too close behind you once again as inky black shadow imps swept up the flour and crumbs, wiping down the counters.

On the counter, he set a plate with a rack over it and next to that was a sifter atop a container of powdered sugar. You were boxed in by Alastor as he rested his hands on either side of the fryer, looking over your shoulder as he once again boxed you in.

“Now.” He said softly, “Scoop them out and put them on the rack.”

You were timid, scared of being burned as you fished for the squares with the spoon made of wire.

“Hurry, hurry!” Alastor cried, voice carrying a musical note as he only made your nerves worse, “You don’t want them to burn!”

Finally, you got them out. Oil dripped off the puffed up pastries as they quickly drained the excess oil off. Alastor grabbed the sifter only to put it in your hands. He moved you as if you were a puppet, placing the sifter in your hands over the rack, steam wafting up to caress your hand. You stood still as he poured a few spoonfuls of powdered sugar into the basket.

“Well, what are you waiting for?” He teased. “You can manage to turn the handle, can’t you?”

“Yeah,” You stammered over the word, mind buzzing with the anxiety of having Alastor, the powerful, blood thirsty Radio Demon spending so much time in your immediate space. Your hands shook as you turned the small metal handle, causing the wire bar inside the sifter to spin, agitating the powdered sugar and helping it fall in a smooth, clump free shower over a square.

Alastor used his hand on your forearm to move the sifter over the other pastry when he had decided there was enough dusting on the first. You didn’t know if there was any science to how much sugar each got or if he was simply measuring with his long dead heart.

Once both were covered enough for his taste, he plucked the sifter from your fingers and set it aside.

“What now?” You asked, unsure still of what was going on.

“Now you try one.” Alastor said, plucking a square up. When you went to grab the other, he roughly shoved the rack out of your reach.

“What? Why did you do that?!” Your brow furrowed as you looked at the rack, now well out of reach before looking back at the man standing too close to you. “How can I try it if you won’t let me grab it?”

“Open.” Alastor commanded as he ripped the corner off the beignet in his hand.

“Wha-” Your question was cut off by the soft, warm, sweet taste that invaded your mouth somewhat forcefully.

It was delicious.

“Well?” Alastor asked as you swallowed the bite.

You hadn’t noticed Alastor rip off another chunk of beignet but found it pushed between your lips the moment you attempted to praise the taste. This time, instead of retreating, his thumb rested against your lower lip as you took in the bite.

His nails were long and pointed claws, not the thick claws that encased the fingertips of his gloves, but still dangerous. The sharp point of his thumbnail poked between your lips as he watched you chew for a few moments.

You were spellbound by the way he looked down at you. What exactly was happening, you had no fucking clue but the air between you and Alastor was thick with something you couldn’t begin to understand.

His touch left your lip to rip another chunk off the beignet slowly as you watched him. His dark bloodstained hands were covered in the white powdered sugar and flour, softening their appearance.

“It’s good,” You whispered as he slowly brought another bite to your lips.

This time he offered it, waiting for you to open your mouth and take what he was offering on your own, knowing full well who was offering it. Somehow, it felt like something far more than a midnight snack was being offered to you but what?

“It’s been you,” You said, not asked as Alastor presented another bite that you took willingly as soon as you spoke.

His thumb again lingered on your lips, sugar damp with oil and sticky on his skin smearing.

“Yes,” Alastor said after a pause to toss the remaining portion of the beignet on the counter and wiping the hand that had been holding it on a hand towel on the counter, cleaning it of some of the sugar. Yet his other hand didn’t leave you. His thumb remained on your lower lip, feeling every twitch and breath.

“Why?” You whispered, his thumb slipping against your lip and coming dangerously close to falling into your mouth.

“You never offered me anything of your stash,” Alastor spoke softly.

“You don’t like sweets,” You hadn’t wanted to waste his time when you had made the decision to dismantle your stash. It had been a emotionally difficult choice, one that you had made before and never stuck to for long until now. “Or junk food.”

“You ignored me.” Alastor’s thumb slipped, running along her lower lip but never leaving it. “I thought if you had better options…”

“I’d share them with you?” Your voice was coming out so soft now, Alastor’s tall ears cocked forward to better pick up your words.

“But you didn’t.”

“I didn’t share them with anyone.” You whispered. “I didn’t want to share them with anyone.”

“Why?”

“I wanted to keep them all to myself. They were too good to share. I-”

Alastor’s thumb slipped into your mouth, cutting off whatever you had been about to say. Sticky sweetness exploded across your tongue as his thumb caressed it. You could feel the point of his nail against your tongue, a hint of danger coated in sweet sugar.

Your mind was numb as you caressed the pad of his thumb, rolling the tip of your tongue under his nail softly. You were not sure what he wanted from you. The idea of overstepping Alastor’s unspoken boundaries was terrifying. This was uncharted waters. A side of Alastor you had never seen or even dared to dream of seeing.

Alastor watched you as you stood near frozen. “Under some circumstances, I enjoy a sweet.”

~~~~~<3

See part 2 for the smut.

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #alastor x reader smut #hazbin alastor x reader #hazbin alastor x you #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor smut

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angelsrcute · 5 months ago

Note

Haloo :D im wondering if u r taking requests now but if u r can u write a fyodor with immortal female reader ? It would be wonderful if u can can but u can ignore this request if u want to

“ But can't you see my dear? I am your doppelganger ♡”

⌗ A LOVE IMMORTAL SUCH AS MINE, WILL COME TO ME, ETERNALLY. 𐙚˙⋆.˚

(´∀｀*)ε｀　) ౨ৎ N–sfw content !! ; Dom!Immortal!Vampire!Fyodor + Sub!Immortal!Vampire!F!Reader ➜ cws: Modern au, Jealous!Fyodor, Vampire themes, fwb → lovers, alcohol mentions, biting, unprotected sex + use of lube, tit play, overstimulation, creampie, oral sex (f receiving), slight Yandere!Fyodor(?), Soft!Fyodor.

꒰ † ੭ — this ended up being my longest fic ever, lol, 1.3k words!! I am taking reqs! + a lil inspiration from olgami, it's such a good webtoon. (人´∀`)♪ Translation: "Мышка" (myshka)

When humans age, they die and pass on to the afterlife, don't they? Death was something that never came to you, ah immortality, such a cool thing. It was more like a curse to you, humans coming and going, years passing by but still no one seemed to notice the same face walking among them for all these decades. Faces unrecognisable as you try to remember their names, their relation with you, not that it mattered anyway.

Relationships were a nuisance, blink and they're already gone, dead, as you stand in their funeral. It was a really funny thing, oh how you wished you could die instead of watching your loved ones die.

Fyodor Dostoevsky. Not a famous name for humans but for vampires, they say he's the oldest vampire to ever live. Have you ever met with him? You did, decades ago, in his bed, in his mansion, fyodor needed some relief and so did you.

He was the one who saved you from your death, why? Because he thought you were interesting. He'd take care of you and teach you how to hunt, how to kill people and make sure no one finds out. He seemed like a lonely man too, house deep in the woods, living all by himself.

The other vampires though, had this bloodlust, to kill him, to become the lord themselves. Everyone clawing at any chance they get, to paint their fingers red with his blood. You never understood their reasoning, what's so good living a life like this?

Dressed in the finest silk and jewelries, he liked seeing you in white clothing the most. He said it made you look like a saint, the saint that brought some change to his boring life. He definitely wasn't a fan of other vampires eyefucking you at meetings. Well, they'd end up going missing anyway.

Cleaning up after him was annoying, why did he have to be so busy? that also playing the piano as he drank wine. Blankly staring at the body in front of you as you clean the floor, muttering curses at him.

It didn't take long but you fell for him, yearning for his touches, but you could never confess, fearing it would ruin your relationship. Your body burning like fire as he kisses you, snapping his hips against you, dress ripped off and discarded on the floor.

“You liked that dress? I'll tell them to make one for you again, money isn't a problem for me.”

Cold slender fingers playing with your nipples as he decorates your neck with bite marks, drawing blood from them. Tongue darting out to lick the blood as he whispers about how sweet you taste to your ears. Your nails digging into his shoulders as your eyes roll back from pleasure, his hands holding your leg up at this point.

Everything was going smoothly until one day he disappeared, without a single word. All the other vampires went crazy over this fact. Some were happy thinking he finally died, some just disappointed that they couldn't be the one killing him.

You returned to Russia after a lot of years, travelling all over the world, everything was different to you, with the years, technology also grew, like for instance, this human was staring into a phone. Bumping into you and not saying a single apology but they had the audacity to curse you instead, calling you blind.

Well, guess you just found yourself dinner, how lucky. Hiding the body with no effort, muttering to yourself “The world would be a little better without people like this.”

You went down an alley, there was a nice bar here, you remembered. Entering it, you took a seat after ordering your favourite drink. From the corner of your eyes, you could see a stranger coming up to you, sitting beside you, “I've never seen you around here, darling, do you need some help? I know a really nice place around here–”

The man went on rambling about nonsense, poor attempts at flirting, and why is he even talking about himself, you don't remember asking. Quietly sipping on your drink as you ignored the stranger. The stranger, though, seemed offended, “Hey I'm talking to you, whore, if you don't want attention, dress up more!”

Now that part really got on your nerves, what were you supposed to wear, a long ass winter jacket? You could just pretend to play along and just kill this guy, not even interested in drinking his blood! But someone else's voice stopped you, a voice too fucking familiar.

It was none other than fyodor, you watched as he grabbed your wrist and pulled you by his side, eyes narrowing at the stranger with a smile, “It's really rude to flirt with someone's lover, don't you think? You'll walk away from here and remember nothing.” The guy on command, got up and left the bar, the people in the surrounding, definitely didn't care.

“You look like you've seen a ghost, Мышка.” He chuckled, as if he just met you yesterday and not decades ago.

“What the fuck? Where the hell were you for all these years!?” You shouted at him, burning a hole into his face with your glare, “Of course I'm surprised, am I not supposed to be when you appear like that? God!”

“Let's discuss it somewhere private, shall we? I know a hotel nearby.” You hated how composed he seemed to be, but still followed him, giving him a chance to explain himself.

“I was a bit hurt, dear, why didn't you tell the man to leave? or were you interested?” He asked while sitting down on the bed.

“Is that what we're talking about? Give me an explanation, fyodor, where the hell were you?”

“A bit busy, don't mind me, I had business that needed to be taken care of.”

“That's it? You could've at least told me a goodbye! or sent letters.”

“Ah, but that would give away my location, wouldn't it? I didn't want any disturbances, but enough about me, where were you? I couldn't find you in my mansion.”

“I was travelling, and I did not see a point in staying there if you weren't there but you really had me worried, you know?” You sighed, sitting beside him.

Well this was supposed to be meeting up with a past ‘friend’. So why did this turn into a fucking session? According to a certain someone, he wanted to make up for his mistakes!

Currently between your thighs, lapping up your folds like he hadn't eaten in years, savouring the taste like it was his favorite meal. He teased your clit with his tongue, gently flicking it, before sucking it into his mouth. Your moans and whines were music to his ear, he could feel you were close, his tongue speeding up to make you cum.

“F-fuck…gonna cum–” You stammered before cumming, lewd slurping sounds filling the room before getting up and kissing you, slipping his tongue in your mouth, making you taste yourself. A string of saliva joining your tongue after he breaks the kiss, he definitely likes seeing you like this— face flushed, hair disheveled, neck decorated by pretty hickeys by him.

You don't remember what round it was, all you can feel is the way he keeps fucking his cum back in your cunt. Sweat glistening on your body as you can't help but let out whimpers due to overstimulation, “T-Too much, fedya…slow down–”

“I'm sure you can cum for me again, my dear.”

He kisses your tear soaked face while rubbing soothing circles on your clit to calm you down. You pull him closer to kiss again, running your hands through his soft hair before he cums in you for the last time and pulls out.

Fyodor runs you a warm bath and then puts you on the bed, climbing in to cuddle with you, well, such a memorable get together isn't it?

Taglist: @blueberrisdove

#𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐄'𝐒 :: 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 (ᵔ◡ᵔ)#dom character #sub reader #bsd smut #bsd x y/n #bsd x you #bsd x reader #bsd x female reader #bungou stray dogs smut #bungou stray dogs x you #bungou stray dogs x reader #fyodor smut #fyodor dostoyevsky smut #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x reader #fyodor x you #fyodor dostoevsky x reader #fyodor dostoyevsky x reader

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todayisawthewhxlewxrld · 5 months ago

Text

REPEATING OVER AND OVER, AND OVER, UNTIL YOU MAKE IT TILL THE END!

YOU'LL NEVER BE ALONE AGAIN!

synopsis// both of you stuck in a time loop until you can accept each other. you can not make it out alone no matter how hard you try.

pairing// katsuki bakugo x gn!reader

word count// 9.6k

contents// no quirks, angst, fluff ?, they r idiots, slow burn-ish? at least at first, profanity. like a lot. i stg they cuss every other sentence, it’s like i was a middle school boy who just discovered cuss words writing this, ooc bakugo probably, ages aren’t specified but they r adults, pure cringe but its mha and coming from me so did u expect anything different..?

notes// my last mha draft... im finally free.... anyway i wrote this ages ago but i rlly love this and it may or may not have been inspired by a fnaf song..... (it totally was)

You wake up with a gasp, sitting up quickly to find everything in the room in the same place it was the last hundred times you woke up.

“A-fucking-gain?!”

You throw your legs over the side of your bed and reach for your phone, hoping for something different but getting nothing. There are no notifications, no services, and no matter how long you stare at the time, it never changes. You would know considering you’ve done this routine a hundred times. You throw your phone back onto the nightstand and slip your shoes on, the repetitiveness of it all making your head spin. You’ve got to be going insane; what other logical explanation could there be for reliving the same day over and over again?

"I don't know what I did to piss the universe off, but now it's pissing me off," you mumble as you walk out of your empty house—you'd know because you've checked every nook and cranny for the past hundred times. The minute you step outside, you shout at the air, the sky, the universe, the gods, whatever put you here, “Is this what you wanted? pay back? You fucking got it!”

You stand there half hoping that something would happen, whether someone appeared or a voice would say something to you, but nothing; it’s just complete silence apart from the wind whooshing by. though that’s not to say people weren’t here. If you went far enough into the city, there were crowds of people walking around with no destinations; they seemed like NPCs. The only difference is that you can interact with NPCs, whereas the shells of humans you see in town don't talk, at least not to you. They don't even acknowledge you. It’s almost as if you’re a ghost, which is ironic considering how, when you were alive—no, that's not the right word, sentient maybe? Whatever the point is, when you were a productive member of society, you longed for something exactly like this. To slip by people like the wind, like a ghost, yet now that you have it, you wish for anything but this.

"God, if this is what the afterlife is like, I don't plan on dying anytime soon,” you mutter to yourself as you walk deeper into the city. “Maybe this is the afterlife? or maybe this is hell.”

You stare at your feet as you walk until you hit the point where there are empty husks of humans walking past, and at this point you lift your head, starting to wave at them and standing directly in front of them in a futile attempt to get their attention. Of course it serves to be useless when they walk right past you... just like they have the last hundred times you’ve tried. After a few more futile attempts, you begin walking past them toward a forest. This has been your routine for the entire time you've been trapped here, wherever here may be.

You check your home, walk outside, curse a higher being and ask what you've done to deserve this, contemplate life—or lack thereof?, walk into the city, try to catch someone's attention, and when that doesn't work, you walk off into the forest, spending the whole day there— or you would if time worked properly here—and eventually finding yourself at some random, poorly placed door deep into the forest. You stand right in front of the door; it mocks you, and you imagine yourself tearing it to shreds if it weren't for the fact that the minute you touch it, you're back at square one. You opt to sit in front of the door, just merely studying it; it’s not like there's really much else for you to do.

You don’t know how long you just sit there going back and forth between staring at the door and tearing out the grass from under your hands; had time worked properly here, you’re sure that the moon would have been out by now. You finally admit defeat—for the hundredth time. You stand up and wipe your hands clean of the dirt now laid upon them before you look around the door once more, hoping for something new to appear behind it or beside it, but nothing—the only thing behind the door is more empty forest. So with a sigh, you begrudgingly touch the door handle, and you immediately find yourself waking up with a gasp, sitting up quickly, with everything in the room in the same place it was the last hundred times you woke up again.

This time, though, you don't get up immediately; you lay back down in your bed with a sigh, pulling your blanket up to your chin. You’ve always been alone. This wasn't new to you, but at least before it was your choice. It wasn’t like people didn’t want to be your friend; you just didn’t want to be theirs. In some fucked-up way, you saw your hyper-independence as superior to how other people seemed to need and want friends. but now? Now you want nothing more than to be annoyed by your coworker; you want nothing more than to walk outside and run into someone who will acknowledge you; even if it isn't a positive interaction, it's still an interaction. and after being stuck here for ages, you would kill for an interaction. You throw your blanket off of you as you begin your routine, finally having enough of your pity party.

Check phone? Check.

Put your shoes on? Check.

Search every inch of your house? Check.

Step outside and curse the universe? Check.

Find yourself surronded by people where you cant tell if you’re the ghost here or if they are? Check! Wait—Is that a new person?

You've been here long enough to have memorized or at least vaguely remembered every single person in the crowd, but this new face in the distance isn't one you've seen before; it's unique, you'd remember it, so who is this? Is this a sign your time here is coming to an end? In a frenzy, you push your way through the crowd, ignoring all your thoughts. You stop a few feet in front of him; he’s still a bit away as you study him. His brow furrowed in a scowl, and he's muttering something under his breath that you can't quite make out, but you can tell he's frustrated by his facial expression and the way his hands are curled into tight fists at his side, knuckles paper white at this point.

He finally reaches you but ignores you as he walks past you, and you sigh, wondering why you thought he'd be the one to acknowledge you.

you frown, mumbling aloud to yourself in disappointment, “Do I really need any more NPCs here?”

suddenly though, he stops dead in his tracks like he heard you and he turns around to face you. Holy shit, he heard you?

“What the fuck did you say to me?”

You stare at him blankly before looking to the sides of you and even behind you. “Uh, are you talking to me?”

He looks at you like you’re stupid as he takes a few steps toward you, and subconsciously, you take a few back. “Of course I'm talking to you; who the fuck else would I be talking to?”

You put your hands out in front of you in a stop motion briefly, your face scrunching up in disdain. "Chill the fuck out, asshole, it was just a question."

“Chill the fuck out?” He repeats in disbelief and takes another step forward, while you stand still, tensing up to appear tougher. “I'm stuck in some weird ass place where, up to this point, no one except for your dumbass has even acknowledged me and you’re telling me to chill the fuck out?”

You roll your eyes at his outburst and ask curiously, “You just got here, didn’t you?”

“What the hell do you think? Where even are we?”

"A time loop of some sort,” you say nonchalantly as you shrug, though everything you’re feeling right now is anything but nonchalance.

He scoffs. “Time loop? You expect me to believe that stupid shit?”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Believe what you want, either way, you’re still stuck here, idiot.”

“Oh, Im the idiot for getting stuck here? What about you?”

“Me?” you scoff.

“You seem like you’ve been here longer than I have, and you’re still not out. So who’s the real idiot?”

You cross your arms and look away, grumbling, “Maybe I like it here.”

He looks you up and down before rolling his eyes and shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I doubt that.”

Your gaze returns to him with a glare. “Fuck you, I was going to help you.”

“I don't need your fucking help,” he sneers. "You obviously have no idea what the fuck you're doing in the first place."

You walk away, flipping him off, and he does the same, both of you going your separate ways. Though once you hit the edge of the forest, you turn to look back and see if he’s anywhere near, but it’s like he never existed at all. back to the routine.

Enter the forest and walk for an unreasonable amount of time? Check.

Reach the out of place, uncanny door deep in the forest? Check.

Stare at it and imagine ripping it to shreds until it's nothing but dust? Check.

Finally sit down and accept your fate for a bit? Check.

You sigh as you poke at the dirt, the patches of grass you pulled out last time returning to normal as if you had never ripped them out in the first place. Remember what you said earlier about wishing for human interaction? You changed your mind after meeting that random guy, who quickly reminded you why you disliked it in the first place. Although you’ve made up your mind about hating him, you can't help but wonder what he’s doing here in the first place. Obviously, you have no idea why you’re here either, but why did he just pop up after doing this a hundred times or more already? Why is he the only one who can suddenly acknowledge your existence? Maybe there was a glitch in your eternal hell; maybe this was an accident, and he’d be gone by the time you did this all over again. Back to the routine.

Stand up and clean your hands of dirt? Check.

Touch the door handle and wake back up in your bed with a gasp? Check!

You groan and grip your head slightly; the action of being in one place only to suddenly be in another never fails to give you a slight headache. Today, you go through your routine quickly in order to get into the city faster. You want to know if he's still here so badly that you almost seem desperate. much to your dismay, and his—he’s still here and groans at the sight of you.

"What the fuck did you do?" he demands angrily.

You narrow your eyes at him. You regret coming here. “excuse me?”

“One minute I'm walking, and the next I'm back here."

“It’s called a time loop for a reason, idiot.”

“I don't fucking care what it’s called, just stop doing it," he snaps.

“Oh yeah, like I fucking control that! Let me just stop this whole time loop while we’re at it, huh?”

He says nothing; he merely flips you off and walks away, and you do the same.

Just like every other time you find yourself back at the door in the forest, this time you don’t wait to touch it; you immediately go for the handle and restart the time loop in spite of him snapping at you. He comes into your time loop and has the audacity to complain? No one told him to invade your eternal hell. The first handful of days (if you could even call them that) go the exact same way. Wake up, check phone, slip on shoes, check house, curse the universe some more, go into the crowd, argue with the blond-haired boy who seemed to piss you off beyond words, go your separate ways, go into the forest, find the door, think about tearing down said door, sit on the floor for a bit, and then finally go to touch the door only to do it all over again.

The next handful of days were similar, except you and the invader of your eternal hell eventually stopped arguing; you two still acknowledged each other, but only with a scowl and a flip of your middle fingers, walking straight past each other to do your own thing. You can't say you were upset with the arrangement because at least you didn't have to listen to his whining any longer. You just hated how something was added to the time loop yet it seems like nothing has changed at all. you're still stuck, and the door still won't budge. What exactly are you even supposed to be doing? How do you escape? Can you even escape?

You wake up with a gasp for what now seems like the thousandth time, and you're starting to feel the effects of being here for so damn long. You’re exhausted, your bones ache, and you feel like you could drop dead at any moment. Then again, who’s to say you aren’t already dead? You lazily go through your routine; everything is as it should be until you get into the city. The crowds are still there, but someone is missing. The only person who has acknowledged you is missing. Part of you is happy that he’s gone; it’s not like you two have had a productive conversation in the time he's been there; if anything, he was hindering your escape. but the other part?

The other part is a tad bit disappointed, for two reasons. that one, he managed to get out before you, and two, you’re all alone again. As you begin walking toward the forest, you groan. Who cares? It’s not like you needed him or wanted him here anyway; you could get out on your own. Sometime lost in thought, you finally made it to the entrance of the forest, stopping and resting against a tree. You wonder if the longer you stay, the worse you start to deteriorate, like whatever this place is doesn’t want you here in the first place. You frown, it’s not like you want to be here anymore than this place wants you here; you didn’t ask to get stuck in some stupid ass time loop.

“I’ve had enough of your games! let me out!” You scream into the woods, half expecting someone to respond, and someone does.

“Do you have to be so loud?” A deep voice comes from beside you, tone full of annoyance.

You jump slightly as you turn your head to the side to see the owner of the voice, and you’re almost disappointed to see it’s the blond boy with a permanent scowl and jaw clenched tight.

“What the fuck, you’re still here?” You ask breathlessly, still trying to calm your racing heart from his slight jumpscare.

He rolls his eyes and leans against a nearby tree to mimic you. “Where the fuck else would I have gone?”

"I thought you got out or something..."

"Clearly not," he says, tsking. “What is this?”

“A forest. What does it look like, idiot?”

“No shit, I mean, why are we here?”

You stare at him as blankly as your voice comes out, "We? How the hell did you even get here?”

“Followed you,” he says as he crosses his arms.

“You... followed me?” you repeat curiously.

“That’s what I said, isn’t it?”

"Why?" you ask softly, catching him off guard. You almost miss how his eyes widen at the sudden shift toward him.

He sighs and looks away, preferring to take in his surroundings, which mainly consist of the seemingly endless forest. "I've looked everywhere else and there's nothing, so I'm assuming you've found something if you keep coming here."

You hum, so he’s not just an angry idiot after all; he’s an observant idiot too.

“So?” he asks with a small bob of his head.

"So what?"

He scowls, which takes you by surprise because you thought he was already scowling... must just be his face then. “So, did you find something?”

“Oh,” you say. "Yeah, I did, kinda.”

He seems to perk up, impatiently asking, “What is it?”

You go silent briefly, unsure of how to explain a random, uncanny door deep into the forest. "uh- it's difficult to explain," you admit sheepishly.

“Just spit it out already, idiot.”

“No, because you probably won’t even believe me!” you snap in frustration.

He rolls his eyes and pushes himself off the tree. “Then show me.”

You stare at him with wide eyes as he walks into the forest. “What?”

“Show me dumbass!” He barks back at you, not pausing to slow down.

You push yourself off the tree in a hurry, yelling as you run after him, “Can you fucking wait! You don’t even know where you’re going!”

He stops, but not without groaning dramatically, which makes you roll your eyes. You caught up to him quickly because he wasn't far away, but that didn't stop you from bending over and placing your hands on your knees as you breathed heavily in and out.

He looks down at you in slight disgust. “You didn’t even run that far, why are you acting like you're dying?”

“Because,” you breathe out heavily. "It takes a toll on you when you've been stuck here as long as I have!"

“Whatever, just hurry up.”

After a moment, you stand back up fully and jerk your head toward the forest, silently telling the boy, “Let's go.”

The walk is quiet; awkwardness hangs heavy in the air as you sluggishly lead the way. It makes you wish he had escaped, because then you wouldn’t have to be dealing with this.

“How long have you been here?” He asks, breaking the silence, which takes you by surprise, but you’re sure anything he does that isn’t just him scowling or yelling could take you by surprise at this point.

You clear your throat. “I dunno…. long.”

“You don’t know?”

"I stopped counting after the hundredth time the loop reset," you shrug.

“Jesus christ, you’ve been here that long?”

“Unfortunately,” you sigh.

Another moment of silence lingers between the two of you as you walk through the forest, but at least the awkwardness has subsided. Though how slowly you're walking is starting to irritate him.

“Can you walk any faster?” he asks harshly.

“I’m tired.”

“Not my problem.”

“You know what?” you say, stopping dead in your tracks. “I think I’m actually gonna take a break.”

“What?” he asks as he watches you sit down on the floor, leaning back against a tree.

you smile up at him mockingly. “Yep! I’m super tired; I need a break.”

He scoffs. “Fuck you, get up.”

You shake your head. “Nah, I don’t think I will. If you wanna get there so bad, find it yourself.”

He glares at you, his lip twitching with the threat of turning into a sneer. “Fine, I will,” he says through clenched teeth.

You’re still smiling at him as you wave goodbye and watch him walk deeper into the forest. He won’t find it. You know that because the door is still a ways away—you've done this walk over a hundred times—he has no chance of finding it without you, so you'll just sit here and relax until he comes running back to you. Lord knows you need it.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Sometime during your relaxing, you ended up falling asleep. Which you didn’t even know was possible here, but nonetheless, it was well appreciated. You would have continued sleeping if it hadn't been for something softly kicking your legs. You frown and try to swat whatever is kicking you away without opening your eyes, wanting to sleep more, but the kicking doesn't stop. You finally, and begrudgingly, open your eyes to find the boy (who you knew would come back) is the one kicking you.

"Oh, you're back already," you yawn, rubbing your eyes.

He stared at you curiously. “Already?”

You nod as you stand up. “I knew you’d come back.”

“Fuck you, you don’t know shit.”

"Then why are you back?"

He tsks and looks away. “Whatever.”

“That’s what I thought,” you say triumphantly.

He says nothing; instead, he waits for you to start walking ahead so he can follow you. Your walking is much faster now, and although you're still exhausted, it’s much more tolerable now. It's as if the fog around your head has lifted, and you can function normally now. If time worked properly here, it would have been about an hour or two after you guys resumed walking when he finally decided to break the long silence.

“Jesus christ, do you even know where you’re going?” he asks in frustration.

You roll your eyes. “Of course I do. I'm not an idiot.”

“Debatable,” he mumbles under his breath.

You decide to ignore that and sigh. “We’re almost there chill out.” There's another lull of silence before you ask, "What's your name?"

He turns to look at you briefly with narrowed eyes before settling his gaze back in front of him. “What? Why the fuck would I tell you that?"

"We're stuck in a time loop together, so I thought it would be nice to know your name, but if you just want me to keep referring to you as an idiot, I'd be more than happy-"

"It's Bakugo," he cuts you off, clearly annoyed.

“I'm y/n,” you say with a grin—wait, you’re actually smiling at getting to know someone? That's odd; you would never... But you guess you could allow it just this once, considering the circumstances.

“Didn’t ask.”

You ignore him. “We’re almost there, by the way.”

“Fucking finally, what even is it?”

You’re close enough that you can see it in the distance. you point at it as you speak, “a-“

“A door?” he erupts, cutting you off and beginning to run off toward it.

You quickly run after him. “Bakugo wait, don't t-“

You suddenly awake with a gasp.

“Don't touch it,” you say to yourself with a groan. "Fucking idiot," you mutter as you roll out of bed, ignoring your routine and simply slipping on your shoes and running off into the city to find him again.

Once you arrive, like yesterday, you can’t find him, and you frown as you start walking toward the forest, because if it’s anything like yesterday, he’d end up there. At least you're hoping he’s there, because if he actually managed to get out before you by doing the same thing you’ve done for a hundred plus times, you would be furious. You arrive at the forest to find him already there, leaning against a tree, and you sigh out in relief as he stands up straight once he sees you.

"What the fuck happened?" he asks when you reach him.

You exhale heavily, slightly frustrated, a dull pain in your head adding to your frustration. "Well, if you had let me explain, I would have told you that touching the door resets the time loop."

"Oh,” he says blankly. “Sorry.”

“You’re apologizing?..” You ask in slight disbelief, he doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would, but then again, you don’t even know him. Who are you to judge him? Wow, you’ve been here so long that you’ve actually gotten to the point of not judging people; maybe you are going insane.

“Yeah.”

“You don’t seem like someone who would.”

He shrugs. “I wasn't, but, uh, I’ve been trying to work on it or something.”

“I’m not either,” you confess. “But, uh, for the record, I guess i’m sorry too… for you know, yelling at you?”

A range of emotions seem to slather themselves onto Bakugo’s face. first anger, then confusion, and then disgust before his usual scowl returns. “Whatever. What now?”

“Now we go back to the door.”

“And do what?”

“Stare at it? I don't know,” you sigh.

“I’m sorry?” he says in confusion as his eyes immediately narrow in on you. “Is that all you’ve been doing? Staring at the fucking door?”

You throw your arms up in the air dramatically as you defend yourself, asking, “What the fuck else am I supposed to do? If I touch it, the time loop restarts!”

His eye twitches. “So we’re just gonna stare at it. Until what? We fucking die here?”

“Who’s to say we aren’t even already dead?” you mumble under your breath in annoyance. “Besides, do you have any better ideas?”

Bakugo stays silent.

“Right, that’s what I thought.”

He tsks and starts walking into the forest. “Whatever, let's just go.”

You find yourself biting back a smile at what you consider a win, even if this wasn’t a challenge; you just have a terrible habit of seeing everything as a challenge... but nonetheless you find yourself walking with him side by side quietly. The walk was, of course, long, but not as long as last time considering you didn’t stop to sleep this time, so the two of you quickly found yourselves at the door. Both of you just stand there staring at it.

“Maybe it’ll actually do something this time,” Bakugo says, tilting his head at the door as if trying to look at it from a different angle.

You drop yourself to the ground, sitting down with a soft groan. “Try whatever you want in a little bit; doesn’t the time loop being reset hurt your head?”

Bakugo looks down at you and shrugs. “Haven’t noticed.”

You laugh, though it comes out more like a huff of air. “You will eventually.”

Bakugo stares at you curiously, what you said having piqued his interest, as he plops himself down on the ground next to you. “How long have you been here?”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You’ve already asked me that.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m asking again.”

“I don’t know. My answer's still the same.”

He nods slowly. “What was it like?” he asks. "You know, in the beginning, all alone?"

“You actually care?” you ask, wide-eyed and in slight disbelief.

He tsks and returns his attention to the door in front of him. “I don't,” he says harshly. “I’m just trying to make conversation; what the fuck else are we supposed to do?”

"Fair enough," you say, nodding slightly. "At first, I kinda liked it here."

“How?”

“I liked being alone.”

“That’s fucking stupid,” he spits out.

You frown. “You don’t look like the type to enjoy other people’s company either.”

“I don’t.”

“Then what the fuck?”

"I don't like people, but I also don't like being alone," he says softly.

“You’re an idiot.”

“Whatever,” he says. “So what? Do you not like being alone anymore?”

you shrug. “If being alone meant I didn’t have to deal with your dumbass anymore, then yes, I still like being alone.”

“Fuck you; you just complained about being alone,” he grumbled.

“I did not complain,” you explain. “I’m just saying I like being alone when it’s on my own terms.”

He hums.

“And you?” you ask.

"And me what?" he asks, his eyes narrowing at the door.

"What was it like when you first got here?"

“Oh,” he says before he thinks for a moment. “I don’t know; annoying more than anything. I have shit to do in the real world; this doesn’t help.”

You pull your knees in toward your chest. “Where do you even think we are?”

"Fuck if I know," he says, shrugging. "I just want to get the fuck out; if I was stuck here as long as you, I'd probably go insane."

You stare at him blankly. “You’re already insane, and I'm already insane.”

Bakugo side eyes you.

“What other logical explanation is there for us being here? We’re obviously crazy.”

He huffs and you almost find yourself mistaking it for a laugh. "Yeah, I guess so.”

You feel your heart race a little, and although you two still bicker a bit, you can’t deny how much you're starting to appreciate his company. It's an odd feeling, really, appreciating company for a change instead of immediately trying to get rid of it. As you push yourself up onto your feet, you sigh. “Round two?”

He nods as he copies your actions by standing up. “Guess so.”

You take a deep breath before touching the door, only to gasp as you awaken, but this time there's another gasp. You look beside you and discover Bakugo in your bed, which causes you to fall out of it from shock.

"Jesus, why are you in my bed?!"

“Why are you asking like I fucking know?!”

You immediately rose to your feet, rubbing your head because, if the headache from the reset wasn’t enough, you also hit it when you fell out of bed. “What the fuck is going on…”

Bakugo quickly gets out of your bed and tsks. “Why’d it change?”

“Maybe the time loop likes us working together?” You ask rhetorically because it's not like Bakugo has an answer either.

“Yeah, or it hates us working together.”

“Whatever it is, at least something changed finally. Maybe other things changed too?” you wonder as you go to slip on your shoes.

“Do we plan on just going back to the stupid ass door every time?”

"It's not like we have any other options, Bakugo. Are you ready?”

“I fucking guess.”

The two of you venture off into the city, with nothing seeming out of place or changed, and it becomes obvious that the only thing that changed was Bakugo being in your bed when you end up reaching the door.

"So much for something changing," mutters Bakugo, frustrated.

You drop yourself to the ground again. “This is annoying.”

He mimics your actions. “No shit.”

A moment of silence falls between you two before you speak up. “Are you even real?”

Bakugo’s face scrunches up in annoyance and confusion. “What the fuck do you mean am i real?”

“I don't know! Maybe I have gone insane and just made you up!”

He rolls his eyes. “Yes, I'm real. I have a whole fucking life outside of this place,” he turns his attention to you, “Are you real?”

“Yes, I also have a whole fucking life outside of this place,” you snap back.

He hums, almost like he doesn't believe you, but he doesn't outright say it, and you quickly respond with a hum of your own before laying yourself down on the grass, looking up toward the never-changing sky. It's so blue and there are so many clouds that it almost looks fake, which makes sense given that this entire place appears to be fake, an empty husk of the real place that exists somewhere else outside of here.

"How was your life?" you inquire, seemingly out of nowhere.

Bakugo looks down at you. “Boring,” he says with a sigh. "It wasn't as boring as this place, but it was still fucking boring; at least I had friends and could do shit there."

You can't help but giggle. “You had friends?”

He scowls at you and flips you off before turning away and nodding. “Unlike you, I'm sure.”

You shrug, though it looks more like a jolt. “I prefer being alone.”

“You say that, but you’re not all that convincing.”

“Oh, fuck off and tell me about your imaginary friends,” you snicker and ignore his very wrong—very right— comment.

He bit back a smirk in response to your jab at him. Normally, Bakugo would despise anyone who dared to fight back, but right now? It was actually nice? which, the feeling within itself, made Bakugo want to hate you even more.

“Bakugo?” you ask after a few moments of silence.

“Shut up, I'm thinking,” he snaps. "There are only three people I consider to be my friends."

You laugh. “What?”

“The rest are just.. acquaintances.”

You hum in content, your hands behind your head. “Tell me bout em.”

“There's this nerd; I've known him since we were kids,” he begins to explain. “I was a douche to him.”

"I can believe that."

Bakugo gives you a look that either says he wants to murder you or for you to shut up, and you merely grin up at him.

"He somehow forgave me, and yeah, we've been friends since."

“And the other two?”

“Some dumbass with shitty hair and another dumbass with pink cheeks,” he explains vaguely.

"Wow, I'm sure they really enjoy being called a dumbass," you state flatly.

He shrugs. "They should if they want to be my friend."

“Those are your only requirements? Tolerate being called a dumbass and anyone can be your friend?” you tease.

“Shut up, at least I have friends.”

“I already told you, I like being alone!” you defend with a pout.

He hums as he lays himself down. “And I already told you I don't believe you.”

"Believe what you want," you say as you turn to face him, only to find him already looking at you. “Besides, what do you care?”

He shifts his gaze to the sky. “I don’t.”

You follow along with him, looking back up at the sky, mumbling, "Sure you don't."

Bakugo doesn't bother replying, and you don't bother trying to keep the conversation going. The two of you just lay there, staring up at the sky and listening to the trees sway in the wind.

You suddenly find yourself being woken up with small kicks to your legs, and you groan. You try to open your eyes only to be blinded by the sun.

“Jesus Christ!” you wince.

Bakugo groans as he places his hand over your face to shield your eyes from the sun. You finally get them to open, and you mutter a small thanks to him.

“Did I fall asleep?” you ask as you stand up.

Bakugo shoves his hands into his pockets with a nod. “Yeah.”

“Sorry...”

"It's fine," he says, shrugging. “Round three?”

You nod as you stretch, which is a pointless action when you're about to be thrown into your bed, but you do it anyway. Bakugo touches the door, and you find yourselves immediately waking up with a gasp in your bed.

You jump straight up and rub your temples. “God, I will never get used to that.”

"Yeah, because the day you get used to that is the day you lose your mind."

You slip your shoes on and roll your eyes. “Ready?”

He stares at you blankly.

"Stupid question, my bad, damn," you quickly add, realizing he's not going to say anything.

When the two of you walk out of your house, Bakugo's steps are loud, and you can tell he's annoyed just by them. Bakugo tries to walk into the city only to be stopped by something.

"What are you doing?" you ask, watching him stagger backwards.

"It's not me," he snaps as he extends his hand in front of him, only to be stopped by something that isn't there, he kind of looks like a mime.

You hold back a laugh as you join him by his side, reaching out only to be stopped by an invisible wall of some sort; this makes your face drop. “What the fuck?”

“Exactly.”

“So what? We aren't allowed in the city anymore?”

"I guess not." Bakugo groans, annoyed. “Is there another way to the forest?”

You don't even get the chance to reply when the two of you hear rumbling. Both your heads snapping toward the noise only to see a newly carved out path to the forest in the distance.

You swallow hard, blinking at the scene in front of you. “You, uh, you saw that right?”

Bakugo nods slowly. “I did.”

You laugh nervously and extend your hands as if to show off the new path. “After you.”

“Fuck no, after you.”

“What are you scared? Coward.”

Bakugo glares at you. “Fuck you,” he says before starting to walk toward the path, and you smile in triumph.

The two of you are silent the whole walk, taking in your new surroundings for anything suspicious. This walk seems longer than the one from the city, but it's not like you expected anything different, and it doesn't matter when you finally get to the door.

"Why are things changing so suddenly?" you wonder as you stare at the door.

"Hell if I know," mumbles Bakugo, joining you in staring at the door.

“Do you think we’re doing something right?” you ask as you turn your head to look at him.

“Or something wrong.”

“God, this is so weird,” you sigh in frustration as you take a few steps back and sit down.

He turns to look down at you, perplexed. “Oh, now it's weird? It wasn't weird the first hundred fucking times we stared at this door?”

"You know what I mean."

He rolls his eyes as he sits down a few feet in front of you. “Whatever.”

You both sit there in silence, your minds racing with confusion. Why are things changing now, and are they changing for the better or for the worse? You sit there picking at your nails while he sits there staring at the door like he’s trying to make it explode with his mind. After a while, Bakugo sighs, and this catching of your attention makes you look up at him. When he speaks up, you're about to ask if he's okay.

“What was your life like?” He asks out of nowhere, and you certainly were not expecting that to come out of his mouth.

“Oh,” you say in slight confusion. “Um, fine? I don't know; I mean, I didn't have friends-“

“Knew it,” he chimes in with a smirk.

“Fuck off.”

"So, what did you have if you didn't have friends?" He asks flatly, not as if he really cares but as if he's just trying to avoid silence, which could be him caring in some ways.

“I had a job at a little coffee shop,” you recall with a small smile.

“I thought you would've worked from home or something.”

“Why?”

“Because you hate people and like being alone?” He says it almost condescendingly, like you should have already known the reason why.

“Huh,” you say flatly. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” Maybe you were subconsciously yearning for social interaction?

“I'm always right.”

You hum and lay yourself down. “What’s your full name?”

He lays down with you. “Why the fuck do you wanna know? You gonna stalk me?”

“You wish.”

“Katsuki Bakugo.”

“That’s a nice name.”

He closes his eyes. “I know dumbass.”

“You could’ve just said thank you.”

“Thank you,” he says harshly, like he's mocking you, but you ignore it and smile. “What’s yours?” he asks quietly.

“Y/n L/n.”

“My name is better, but yours is alright, I guess,” he says under his breath, like this is his best attempt at a compliment.

You laugh softly, and the noise causes Bakugo's cheeks to warm, which he tries to ignore and blames on the sun. You don't bother responding and close your eyes. Both of you are just laying there with your eyes closed, enjoying each other's company, or at least you're enjoying his. Which is odd; it makes you slightly nauseous to think that for once, you’re actually enjoying someone's company.

Had someone told real life you that you'd be enjoying someone's company, you would have laughed in their face and probably insulted them for not being as “independent” as you are. But despite all of that, you can't actually say you hate it—not at all, actually. but for the time being, you're blaming that on the circumstances. After a while, you find yourself opening your eyes, slightly wincing at the bright sun, but turning your head to look at Bakugo, who is staring up at the sky without a scowl on his face. Huh. You thought that scowl was permanent, though he actually looks surprisingly nice without one?

“Are you dead?” you ask out of nowhere.

Bakugo flinches slightly, taken aback by your voice. “Being dead would probably be better than this.”

“Rude,” you huff.

“I mean the situation, not you.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you tease. “Round four?”

He sighs defeatedly. “Yeah, I guess.”

You nod as the two of you stand up and quickly dust yourselves off. You step toward the door and find yourself hesitating.

“What are you waiting for?” Bakugo asks impatiently.

You shake your head and touch the door. You both wake up with a gasp, but you're not in your room; instead, you're back on the forest floor where you were just moments ago.

“What the fuck?” you exclaim aloud.

"Did you touch it?" asks Bakugo, looking down at the ground beneath him.

“Of course I did!” you explain. “I don't understand?”

Bakugo quickly stands up and offers a hand out to help you out. You hesitate to take his hand, making him shake his head as if to silently ask, “What's the problem?” You sigh as you accept his help.

Once your up, Bakugo pulls his hand away and asks, “Should we try to go back to your house?”

“Uh, yeah, sure, that's a good idea.”

Bakugo nods back, and you find yourself walking out of the forest, a strange feeling given that you're always walking in, never out; it's eerie in a way. You’ve only been walking for, what you assume, a few minutes when he speaks up.

"Is that actually your house?" he wonders. "Like in the real world, I guess."

You shake your head. “Nah, I just call it that considering how long I've been here, you know? I actually live in an apartment.”

He hums. “Me too.”

"You too?"

“Yes? Why the fuck do you sound so shocked?” he asks with a confused shake of his head.

"I don't know... I guess you seem like the type of person who would say they're too good for an apartment," you explain with a shrug.

“It’s cheaper, and because I have a roommate that makes it even more cheap.”

“Oh!! Let me guess!” you speak up excitedly. “Is it the nerd? Or the shitty hair? Oh or the pink cheeks?”

He finds himself chuckling at your use of his nicknames for them, and the sound goes straight to your stomach. Butterflies immediately begin to grow there. “It's the nerd,” he says once he’s finally composed himself.

You nod with a smile. “My roommate is a cat.”

He hums, and before he can respond, he walks straight into something, just like the last time, except this time it's not the invisible city wall he walked into but the middle of the forest. You immediately find yourself frantically grabbing at the invisible force.

“Are you serious?” you fume. “Now we’re trapped in the fucking forest?”

Bakugo finds himself walking toward the sides, only to find that those are blocked off by nothing as well. “So what? we can’t leave?”

“It doesn’t want us to leave,” you correct him.

“Who the fuck is it?” Bakugo asked with a confused glare.

“Whatever the fuck is doing this.”

Bakugo sighs out in defeat as he places his hands on his hips, letting his head drop as he just stares at the floor. “Now what?” he mumbles.

You rub your face in frustration. “We go back to the door, I guess.”

He lifts his head and tsks. “Great.”

The walk back into the forest is tense, but since you two had only made it halfway before being stopped, it wasn't that long. Still, the air between you two had become suffocating from your respective frustrations with being trapped here, his more so than yours. Finally, you two arrive at the door, and Bakugo collapses to the ground with a loud groan.

“This sucks,” he seethes.

You shrug as you take a seat in front of him. “It could be worse.”

“What?” he asks harshly. “Please, please, please enlighten me on how this could be any worse.”

You keep your gaze on the ground, nervously pulling out the grass as you speak. “Well, I mean, yeah, of course it sucks! like, really bad! and like, yeah, sure, the universe seems very against me right now, but at least I have you?”

"Huh," he says blankly before remaining silent for a moment, and you grimace; you should not have said that. Why the fuck would you say that? “Yeah.”

Your head shoots up to see him already staring at you softly. “Yeah?” you repeat.

"Yeah, you're right," he says slowly, almost painfully so.

You can't help but break out into a wide grin. “Bakugo? Are you actually starting to care about me?”

He bites back a smile as he rolls his eyes. “Oh fuck off.”

You laugh and lay yourself on the grass. “Lay with me.”

He hums curiously at you yet listens, laying himself right next to you, leaving only a small space between you two. You ignore the strange urge to take his hand in yours.

“Do you think we would’ve been friends in, like, real life, I guess?”

“I never agreed to being your friend,” he points out flatly, ignoring your question.

“Shut up, Bakugo.”

He snickers. “Probably not though.”

You feign offense, or you feign feigning offense, because that does actually hurt your feelings slightly. “Rude…”

“Shut up. I don't mean it like that,” he reassures. “I mean, you even said it yourself—you don't like people, and I only consider like three people my friends.”

You frown. “I guess you’re right.”

"It's futile to think about that shit now; I doubt we'll ever go back," he mumbles, disappointed.

You ignore how much you’re not disappointed that you might not ever go back anytime soon. “Round five?”

Bakugo nods as he stands up. “Yeah.”

You try to get up, but he stops you. You stare at him curiously.

“If we’re just going to end up lying back down when it restarts, maybe if you’re already lying down, your head won't hurt as much?” he questions thoughtfully.

You ignore how warm your cheeks feel at his concern and lay back down. “Yeah, maybe.”

Bakugo nods at you before touching the door, and still, both of you end up waking up with a gasp in your positions from a moment ago, but your head doesn't hurt this time.

Bakugo ignores the disappointment swimming in his stomach and turns his gaze to you, who appears shocked. “Did it work?”

You nod slowly before looking at him with a smile. “Yeah, it did! Thanks Bakugo..”

He presses his lips into a tight line as if to stop a smile or ignore how hot his face feels. “Yeah, whatever. Uh, should we go see how far we can make it out?”

You stand up and extend your hand to him, and he quickly accepts it. “Yep!”

The two of you don't even make it ten feet away before being blocked by an invisible wall. The two of you stumble back and stare at each other wide-eyed before both of you immediately start walking out toward the sides, only to be stopped again.

"Oh my fucking god, it boxed us in," Bakugo barks.

You laugh out nervously. “Um, so, like, is it just gonna keep getting smaller?”

Bakugo's head snaps toward you in concern as your voice shakes, and he notices you beginning to tremble.

"N-not that it's a big deal; I'm not claustrophobic or anything, I'm just curious." You panic, your chest heaving up and down.

Bakugo immediately runs up to you (not that he has to run far) and places his hands on your shoulders, roughly gripping them in some poor attempt to ground you, which works slightly because now you're staring at just him, getting lost in his eyes.

“It’s fine, It's gonna be fucking fine,” he says harshly. “I’ll get us out of here, okay?”

You just stare at him, blinking at him blankly.

He shakes you gently. “Y/n?”

you swallow harshly.

“Y/n!”

You flinch. “Y-yes?”

"You're going to be fine," he assures, softly smiling at you.

And although you know he can't guarantee that, he can't guarantee that you'll be okay or that he’ll get you guys out of here, you still believe him.

you nod. “Okay. I trust you.”

He nods and returns his hands to his sides before walking back to the door (not that he has to walk far) and sitting down, patting the ground in front of him to invite you to join him. You two sit in comfortable silence, but you can't stand it; you need to talk about something or you'll start spiraling at the thought of the invisible walls closing in on you.

“Do you think we’re supposed to be learning something?” you inquire, pulling your knees into your chest.

He leans back on his palms as he stares at you through furrowed eyebrows. “What?”

“Like a lesson?” you elaborate. "Isn't that why most people get trapped in time loops?"

He gives a half-shrug and thinks for a moment. “I guess? Do you think you’re learning a ‘lesson’?”

“Maybe?” you say as you place your head on your knees.

Bakugo stares at you, and when you don't say anything, he bobs his head as if to tell you to go on.

“I don't think I like being alone as much as I say I do.”

"Oh?" he says, tilting his head at you with a cocky grin.

You roll your eyes at him through a smile. “Shut up… I'm just saying you’re not so bad; your company is actually enjoyable?”

“Of course it is; It’s me,” he boasts.

“I regret saying anything.”

“I get it, though.”

“You do?”

He nods. “I mean, I get it through my lesson?”

You bobbed your head at him in the same way he did at you.

"Maybe I don't hate having or making new friends as much as I say I do," he admits quietly.

“Of course you don't; it’s me,” you mock with a shit-eating grin.

He stares at you just smiling fondly, not even a laugh, or a fuck off. No, he's just staring at you as if you're the best thing that's ever happened to him, as if you created the universe—no, scratch that, as if you are the universe. But before you or he can say anything, you hear something rattling, specifically the door handle rattling.

Both of your heads turn toward the door, watching it rattle before looking back at each other and slowly rising in unison.

“Get behind me,” he whispers harshly.

“I can take care of—“

“Y/n,” he snaps through clenched teeth in an attempt to hush his voice.

You sigh and begrudgingly agree, placing yourself behind him as you two walk toward the door.

He takes a deep breath before whispering, "Round six?"

You nod slowly. “Round six.”

You gasp and sit up quickly, instinctively looking to your side for Bakugo, but you're met by your cat.

He paws at you, and you just stare blankly at him, your chest heaving up and down rapidly. Your cat climbs onto your lap, and you begin to pet him as tears sting your eyes and you take in your surroundings. Though your moment of realizing you're back home is ruined by a phone call. You immediately pick up.

“Bakugo?” you say breathlessly.

Your coworker clears her throat awkwardly. “uh what? It’s mina, y/n. Where are you? I mean, I know you don't like me, but at least come to work!"

You exhale heavily and rub the tears from your eyes harshly. "I'm so sorry, Mina- I'll be there as soon as I can."

“Oh, uh, it’s fine. Take your time. See you soon!” She says it softly, obviously taken off guard by your apology and lack of hostility.

You hang up quickly and sniffle. “Shit,” you mutter under your breath. How long has it even been? Has any time even passed here? When you look at the date, it is the same as it was before you were thrown into the time loop. It could have been months there, but here? It had been merely seconds, if that. You feel your heart break at the lack of Bakugo here; you had been stuck with him for probably weeks, and now you’re... not. And you’re supposed to just go back to being a productive member of society like nothing happened? Like he didn't just single-handedly change your view on being alone? You sigh and shake your head as you pick your cat off of you, now is not the time to have an existential crisis, you have a job to get to. You set your cat down and practically dash to get dressed, not caring enough about even looking presentable as you grab your things and run out the door, getting to your job in record time.

☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。*。☆。☆。

Mina is surprised to see you almost break through the door. “I told you to take your time,” she says with a frown.

You shake your head and bend over as you catch your breath. “No, it's okay,” you say through ragged breaths.

She just stares at you silently until you calm down and approach her behind the counter. “I'm sorry,” you say once you've reached her.

She laughs. "It's fine; being late isn't such a big deal."

You frown; god, she's really gonna make you say it, isn’t she? “No, I mean, I'm sorry about, uh, always being an asshole towards you and stuff,” you start mumbling toward the end, of course you mean it but you still find it quite embarrasing.

“Oh! Thank you? Um… Did something happen?”

You let out a breathy laugh that almost sounds sad, if that's even possible, and if it isn't, you're making it so. “Uh, yeah, you could say that.”

Mina notices how your demeanor has wilted and places a comforting hand on your shoulder while giving you a small smile.

You return her smile before sighing. "I'm gonna go put my things in the back."

While in the back, you hear the shop bell ring, indicating that a customer is approaching, so you hurry and put your belongings away to assist Mina. Once you're back out there, you don't notice how the customer is waiting by the counter, where you would hand them their coffee. Your main focus is just on making the drink as Mina hands you the cup with what they want written on it. You make quick work of it as Mina starts taking other orders from people beginning to walk in, and in record time you finish the drink, walking to the side of the counter where people pick up coffees. You turn the cup around to look for a name and feel your heart drop when you see it.

Your brow furrows as you mumble, "Bakugo?"

When he hears your voice, Bakugo's head snaps up from his phone, and he doesn't even try to hide the smile that has now appeared on his face. “Y/n?”

"Holy shit!" you exclaim excitedly as you lose your grip on his drink and it splatters everywhere, Bakugo laughing at how half of it is now on your clothes and you can't help but laugh along with him.

“You plan on remaking my drink?”

You nod quickly and hurriedly speak, “Yes! but, um, can you stay after?”

He smirks. “What, was our time together not enough for you?”

You roll your eyes playfully at him. “If I agree, will you stay?”

"Maybe."

You sigh. "Yes Bakugo, our time together wasn't enough for me."

Bakugo chuckles softly.

“Yeah Y/n, I’ll stay.”

379 notes · View notes

milswrites · 8 months ago

Text

I'll Crawl Home to You

~ Azriel X Reader

Summary: After barely escaping his last mission, Azriel realizes he has one regret in life. Not telling you about the undying love which he held for you. His brush with death allowing him to realize that he can't live another day without you by his side, Azriel wastes no time in telling you exactly how he feels.

Warnings: Angst. Talks of death and injuries. Nice cute ending though :)

Azriel had always assumed that when the time came for death to greet him, he would welcome them like an old friend.

Gladly taking the specter's hand and allowing them to guide him to the afterlife, satisfied with the centuries of a blessed life he had been gifted by the Mother.

Azriel had never feared death. Instead he imagined that when the sweet embrace of darkness finally surrounded him, he would be able to rest at last. A mercy that he could finally be at peace, no worries crossing his mind as he knew that one day his brothers would also join him in whatever afterlife he was sent to.

Which is why he couldn't understand why he was panicking now as death's black cloak began to wrap around him. Rather than the warming comfort he had always imagined it would hold, the incoming blackness felt bitterly cold. Like his body had begun to freeze over like a lake in winter, the last dregs of his life being sucked from him.

Azriel found himself fighting back. His weak hand outstretched as he attempted to push away the approaching claws of death which were slowly advancing. Teeth grit together with effort as he tried to ward them off.

"No" the desperation in his hoarse voice was palpable, words catching in his throat as he flinched away from the foreboding figure of darkness. A painful spasm tearing through his body, originating from the wound on his chest where an unwelcome dagger had found its home.

"No i'm not ready yet please. Please don't take me . . . No please!"

His speech was slurred, vision dotted with masses of growing black spots. Yet Azriel didn't allow his hold on reality to slip for a single second. Not if it meant dying.

Not if it meant never seeing you again.

And so he resisted death's sweet siren song, too stubborn to allow himself to give in.

"I will not die today."

Azriel hissed the words through his pain. His fierce amber eyes meeting the cool sharp gaze of death's.

A gaze so intense that Azriel was sure it was enough to drive anyone to insanity. The well of darkness which swirled in death's icy orbs was never-ending. Azriel allowed himself to swim in them deeper and deeper, searching for a way to escape from their clutches. Following the glistening golden rope which shimmered enticingly, as though begging Azriel to take hold of it, promising that life would be at the other end of it.

It was agony. Sharp spikes of pain coursing through him as his limbs grew heaver and heavier the deeper he dived, skin beginning to burn and blister as a feverish sweat settled on his uncomfortable skin.

But Azriel didn't let up. Never lessening his grip on the golden rope. Allowing his memory of you to give him strength in the face of his adversity.

He never let go. Not even when death itself began to fight back.

Terrible visions of the horrors of his past appeared before him as he swam. Bubbles which contained the callous faces of his half-brothers floated by his face. Sinister smiles upon their lips as they stared at Azriel, deaths alluring voice slipping from their lips, "Come now Azriel, don't fight it. The rope leads to nothing. Let go. Close your eyes, I've got you. You can rest now."

Yet Azriel didn't look to the floating forms of his cruel brothers. He kept his stern gaze ahead, chasing after the end of the rope. Chasing after you.

It was almost as if you were there. If he squinted hard enough he could see your ethereal form at the end of the tunnel, a gentle hand held out for him to take.

It wasn't death. He knew that much. Your glowing figure radiated life, the promise of a future.

There at the end of the golden rope was you. Patiently waiting for him to greet you so you could return him to the land of the living. You were his salvation. You had come for him.

He allowed himself to become deaf to the enticing whispers of death. Continuing his pursuit forwards, towards you, leaving the dark memories of his past behind as he turned his full attention to swimming towards his future.

His scarred hand reaching out towards yours, the tips of his fingers brushing against your soft palm as he connected your hands. Entwining your fingers as he used the warmth you radiated as an anchor.

And then instead of darkness, there was only light.

~~~~~

Soft whispers stirred Azriel from his slumber. Through his closed eyelids, Azriel could see the sweet familiar orange glow of sunlight. The heat of which warmed his skin, energy flowing through his body as though the sun was replenishing his source. Enabling him to slowly flutter his eyes open, sight focusing on the blurred figure in the chair next to him.

Azriel rushed to sit up, Cassian's steady hands shooting out to stop his erratic movement, hushing the shadowsinger as he helped to rest him up against the pillows on the bed.

"Careful," Cassian grinned, pleased to see his brother awake, yet his smile did nothing to hide the concern which failed to leave his eyes, "you had us all worried for a moment there Az. We thought-" Cassian's voice broke as he swallowed back a cry, ". . . We thought we'd lot you."

"How did I get. . .? Y/N. She found me!"

Azriel struggled to put together the pieces of what happened after he was stabbed.

There was darkness, an impending sense of doom, and then a sudden burst of light. But there, somewhere in between his jumbled memories, Azriel had seen you. He was sure of it.

"Y/N?" Cassian questioned, brows furrowing in confusion as his concerned gaze swelled deeper, "They weren't there Az. You travelled here with your shadows. Gave me a fright, you appeared right in front of me covered in blood and barely breathing."

"No. . ." Azriel murmured, that couldn't have been right. He saw you. He was sure of it.

"They came to visit you a few times once Madja had you stable. Maybe you're thinking of that?" Cassian reasoned, trying to reassure himself more than Azriel, preying to the cauldron that his brother hadn't gone senile.

"Yeah" Azriel lied, flashing his brother a crooked smile to soothe his worries, "Yeah you're probably right."

No amount of convincing from his brother would allow Azriel to believe anything else other than the fact that you were there to save his life. To bring him home.

But if Cassian was somehow right . . . If you really hadn't been there. Then that meant Azriel had dreamt about you. This wasn't a new occurrence, there were many nights where Azriel welcomed the sweet embrace of sleep so only to see your smiling face in his dreams. Yet his mind, in what could have been his final moments alive, thought only of you.

Of your beauty and grace. Of your welcoming nature and the sense that in finding you, Azriel was home, even when death had came to claim his soul in the wilderness of Illyria.

He liked that. The knowledge that his home wasn't a place, but a person. That wherever he was, he need only to think of you and he can allow himself to be happy.

Though despite this realization, Azriel found that he couldn't be happy. Not when he had felt this strongly about you for years and had just almost died without confessing this to you.

Nausea crawled up his throat at the prospect that he had almost left this world without knowing if you felt the same way about him as he did you. Angry at himself for pining after you for so long and making no move to show you his the true nature of his emotions.

He had been a silent admirer. Yet Azriel found himself wanting to be silent no longer.

"Did you say they were here?" he rushed the words out, the intensity of his question causing the General to sit back in shock, "where are they now?"

"Uh, I think they went to their room for a bit. I told them I'd watch over you for a bit."

Azriel wasted no time in jumping up from underneath the covers. Having learnt firsthand how precious his time really was, he wouldn't allow himself to wait another second without telling you of his devotion.

So he ran, blind to the flash of pain which coursed from his still tender wound. Unable to feel the uncomfortable twinge in his chest due to the heavy pounding of his heart.

Azriel felt no nerves nor anxiety. He was driven by his need to speak to you. A confidence settling in his heart that this was right - that everything was happening the way it was supposed to.

Every step closer to your bedroom was a step closer to his home.

So consumed by his desire to see you, Azriel neglected to knock as he entered your room. Wild eyes searching your chambers until they finally landed on your shocked expression.

~~~~~

"Oh cauldron Az, you're alright!"

A cry of relief tore from your mouth, as you closed the distance between you and the male, gently throwing your arms around him, careful not to embrace him too tightly for fear of upsetting his wound.

But Azriel didn't care. Not when he had you in his arms. So he pulled you tighter and tighter to his chest, until he could feel the gentle beat of your heart alongside his own. Needing reassurance that you were real. That he really was alive.

Once you had basked in each other's presence for long enough you pulled away, hands clasping his biceps as you moved him back to allow yourself to cast your eyes over him, ensuring that the male was actually ok.

"Should you even be out of bed? Az you need to rest!"

You made to pull him towards your own bed so he could lie down, but Azriel stopped you, holding your hand tightly to prevent you from moving from where you were stood.

"I've rested long enough" he stated with a shake of his head, consuming gaze meeting your own.

"Azriel you almost died" you argued, amazed that the male was even standing.

"I think I did die" Azriel replied, his words being enough to silence you, silvery tears lining your eyes at the thought of you almost loosing the shadowsinger.

"I think" he repeated not wanting to confirm the words which he knew out of fear of upsetting you, "I saw them. Death. They wanted to take me but . . . I couldn't let them. So I fought back. I fought and fought until I saw you. You saved me Y/N."

"Me?" you gasped in disbelief. You had heard the tales of warriors who had narrowly escaped death, swearing that they had seen the gracious form of the Mother as they were brought back to life. Yet none of them ever claimed to see a person who was real.

"I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for you" he concluded. If it weren't for your captivating presence drawing him towards you Azriel would have drowned in the inky orbs of death.

"I couldn't" tears had now began to fall from Azriel's own eyes, silver pearls trailing down his cheeks, "I couldn't leave. Not without seeing you again. Not without saying goodbye. It's all I could think about."

A sob broke from your lips, amazed that Azriel's last thoughts before death were only of you.

"I didn't care how badly wounded I was" he spoke truthfully, hands still clinging onto yours as if they were a lifeline, "They could have stolen my wings. Taken my sanity. Broken my spirt. But none of that would have made a difference. None of that would stop me from crawling home to you. No amount of ropes and chains could hold me back, not when it meant seeing you on the other side."

It was impossible not to feel an overwhelming surge of love at the sincerity of his words. At the desperation which flooded in his eyes, begging you to believe him. Pleading for you to feel the same way.

"My love for you knows no bounds. Life or death, you are always with me, and I will never fail to find you" he promised. Certain that if he could conquer death with only the desire to be at your side, he would be able to fight anything.

"You did it Az" you beamed, hands dropping his only to come and rest on his dampened cheeks, "You came home to me. Our love transcends all worlds. Heaven, hell, purgatory, we'll find each other in every single one of them I promise. Because I am never letting you go again."

You couldn't. Not when you had already almost lost him. You would never lose Azriel again. Yet you could be happy with the thought, that if the situation were to ever happen again, that you could be his guiding beacon. Leading Azriel back to you. Leading him back home.

#acotar #fanfic #acotar imagine #sarah j maas #a court of thorns and roses #azriel x reader #azriel imagine #azriel #azriel oneshot #azriel shadowsinger #azriel acotar

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eroscomet · 1 month ago

Text

Make it Right

Chapter one- Love returned

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Pairing: Astrid Deetz x Fem!Ghost!reader

Context: Astrid and you have been dating two years before a tragic accident happened to you, ending your life. She spends a year alone somehow trying to contact you from the living as you're in the afterlife. When finding that all of her attempts are futile, she turned to her mother's ability but was quickly reminded of how her mother "somehow" could never see the people Astrid wished to see the most.

Warnings: Probably bad writing (I'm sorry), Death

Word count: 2.8k

A/N: I'm not so much familiar with tumblr other than reading. I'm not much of a writer either, this would be like the first piece I post ever. I'm sorry if there are any mistakes, I will correct as many as I see. Also, my brain was a bit foggy when remembering the new Beetlejuice Beetlejuice movie so if there's a mistake in that too, I'm sorry. Other than that, I hope you guys enjoy. I have been heavily inspired by many other amazing writers and I hope I really do capture all of the characters as correctly as I can. Also, I'm not expecting this series to blow up, i'll add another chapter if I see many people interact with this one.

╰┈➤Series Masterlist

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Letʼs be honest, Astrids life was definitely not one that usually someone finds themselves in. A ‘psychicʼ mother, who Astrid believes makes things up, an artist grandmother who seems to be an emotional wreck now that her husband is dead, and finally, a father who she no longer has. Astrid couldn't recall the last time her life was stable, from the beginning it had always be something with her family.

Now, with the passing of her grandfather and her mother suddenly marrying her manager who she is blindly following and clearly not seeing how he exploits her. She finds her world completely upside down and the one time she finds someone who makes her feel at least a bit normal, the universe seems to keep taking any form of normalcy from her. Once upon a time, it had been you and Astrid. The one person who kept her head straight as her world span.

Granted, you didn't come from the perfect family either but you always had found a way to excuse their actions despite Astridʼs constant nagging about your family and their almost pertinacious attitudes.

Your mother, a woman who almost seems to so desperately want to fit in with the women of the neighborhood. Your father who loved his image and his family's image. Your older sister who was always trying to somehow one-up you. Your family cared about the big things, you always found yourself content with the small things. You had always excused their behaviors with simple statements like,

“That's just how they are.” or, “No family is perfect.”

Astrid would cave eventually to your excuses but not with good attitude. Now remembering it, it felt like such a close but distant memory. It had only been a year, almost two, of your passing and yet Astrid finds herself dug in a hole the universe seemed to only bury her deeper in. Every memory had been bittersweet. Between every laugh shared, smiling in the middle of kisses, comforting smells theyʼd grow to find solace in, compliments, listening to music together, there had also been disagreements, comforting each other about things that neither of them had caused or been involved in, emotional damage, and trying to balance finding middle ground in each otherʼs crazy lives.

A year.

The thought of it makes Astrid almost wince, thoughts that seemed to be never ending and had loose ends. Why wasn't she there? She had always thought to herself. Why didn't she stop you? Questions to be left unanswered now that you were gone and she had no one to turn to. She had gone to her mother, who she had never believed was a ghost whisperer or paranormal insighter as everyone saw her, practically begging to have her somehow see you, hear you, feel you. But, like every attempt, they were once again futile.

This had made her more angry with her mother. First, she couldn't see her father and now she can't see you. Why is that every time she needs her mother to see a certain ghost for her, she never can but for others she can? It all felt stupid to her, how could people believe her mother?

Astrid found herself visiting Winter River frequently despite not liking staying with her grandmother and mother, especially when that daft man her mother called a “boyfriend” was around. She saw right through his act of the ‘caring, loving, and supportive’ boyfriend. Yet, she felt like she was the only one who could see that. How could someone propose to someone on the day of their father's wake?! She disliked the town, even more the people who foolishly believed her mother “abilities” to see paranormal phenomenons.

Yet, there she had spent most of her free time at the town during spring, summer, and winter break. Her relationship with Winter River had always been horrible yet she couldn't bring herself to say that she hated it there. How could she say that when it was this very same town that she had met you?

Standing there once again, in front of a grave that she became all too familiar with. Yours. It was almost comical how your parents had practically milked your death with every ounce they could get from it. Parading around the town, almost as if making it an excuse to gain from. They had quickly became the family in which everyone had gone to support when you had died. People would constantly go to your home, try to show their support, bring gifts even. Your parents loved every second of the attention.

No surprise that your mother had gained popularity among the women of your neighborhood's community. They only pitied her but masked it with sympathy as your mother would say, “She would've loved to be here” whenever someone had invited her to some so-called ‘important’ event among the other dull rich women. Your father had gotten a raise from his job after your death, again, out of pity of the poor family who had lost their ‘precious’ daughter. Your sister had gotten annoyed about how much you had been the focus after your death. She had expect people to move on after months but now seeing that it has been one, almost two, years of your passing and you being the center of attention, it had made her a bit bitter.

As Astrid stood in front of your grave and the flowers that adorned it, a small half-hearted smile on her lips. Many of the times that she had found herself in front of your grave, though she thought that somehow talking to the dead and getting a response back was stupid, she had always found herself talking out-loud to your grave, hoping for a sign or response that never really came.

“I miss you. Iʼm sorry that I havenʼt visited recently. My grandfather passed away, guess heʼd be with you now, right? Sometimes I wonder if youʼre with my dad or talk to him over there. I know if you were to be listening to me, you'd be rubbing it in my face how I always thought these kinds of things were stupid and now iʼm standing here like an idiot talking to myself and expecting a response from you.”

She smiled to herself as she thought about how youʼd tease her for this. She missed the banter between the two of you, her smile somewhat fading at the empty ache in her heart.

“I wish I could say that I hate you for leaving me here by myself, knowing that life is hard. We were supposed to be going through this life together, though. I wonʼt, I canʼt. I love you and my chest is aching every single day at this back and forth in my mind of memories that we should be looking back at together, happily, and now I just get this bittersweet feeling with the horrible reminder of your death. As much as I don't like it or believe it, I wish I had somehow gained this stupid ability my mother thinks she has.”

Astrids voice had faltered as she felt a frown tugging at her lips and her tears begin to faintly blur her vision. She took a deep breath, pulling herself together as she spoke again.

“I just want you to come home. I know that I always thought it was stupid how you had said ʻhome is where the heart isʼ, but truly I had just felt so bashful to think that someone like me could possibly be someone's home. The statement itself, I had always thought was a bit corny. Now, I find myself saying that I want to go home even while being at home. Funny, huh? You were always such a sap..”

With that and a sad smile, Astrid backed away from your grave. A soft sigh escaping her lips as she once again hoped that you had somehow received her words.

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Hours later, Astrid found herself, once again, in your room. She sneaks in through the window because she hates the idea of having to knock on the front door and have a conversation with your parents. They had been supportive of your relationship, yes, but like everything else, it was for their own personal gain. They had seen how other families were inclusive so they thought if they were too, theyʼd fit in more. Astrid had already known that they wouldn't dare to go into your room.

Your family had always hated the way that you decorated your room with endless posters, music, records and vinyls here and there, you loved your music. It was drastically differently from your sister and parents which preferred a more elegant and clean look. Thatʼs why whenever there were visitors, theyʼd never introduce your room to them. Yet, it was your safe haven and Astrid knew that.

After your death, she had taken it upon herself to take care of your vinyls, CDʼs, record player, and plants, all taken cared of. She felt that it made her feel like you were still here. As if she was staying in your room while you were out and about in the town. Her imagination took her far when it came to making up excuses for your absence rather than accepting the fact that you were dead.

She hummed to herself as she finished watering the last plant in your room. Once she was finished, she had gone over to your records, flipping through each of them, trying to find a song to play. Thatʼs when she had heard a small noise in the room. It was unusual to say the least, no one had ever dared to come into your room, it was just her. She shrugged it off as nothing or simply a noise coming from your window.

Then again, a small noise. The noise of a shoe squeaking from across the room. Her eyebrows had furrowed before she whipped her head around towards the direction of the noise. Upon landing her eyes on your face. She felt as if she was dreaming but it had startled her so that she felt her vision suddenly blacking out. When falling back, all she could remember was the feeling of someoneʼs cold hands catching her.

When Astrid awoke, she found herself lying on your bed despite having passed out almost across the room near your records. She almost dreaded waking up, she could have sworn she had seen you. Was it a dream? Did she make it up in her head because she missed you so much? Her vision blurred a bit before finally focusing, the feeling of a dip in the bed and a cold hand holding hers had startled her.

Quickly, she had shot up and off of your bed. Her eyes finally landing on you who had also shot up on the other side of the bed when she did.

“Where are we going?-” You had began speaking before you were cut off by Astrids loud exclaim.

“What the fuck!”

Your eyes scanned the room, your eyebrows furrowed as you turned around to see if there had been anyone behind you which earned a scoff from the other girl.

“Wait, you can see me now?” You asked as your eyebrows raised and your eyes returned to Astrid across the bed.

“Can I see you? Yeah, the better question is can I believe it? Is this another dream?” Astrid climbed over the bed and flung herself onto you. She clung onto your, now, cold body, that hadnʼt bothered her right now.

“What's the matter? You look like youʼve seen a ghost.” Your arms wrapped around the girl almost protectively, a soft laugh escaping you.

“Not funny.” Her words were flat, but a hint of a smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She almost didnʼt know what to say as she stared at you. She had dreamed of you before, sure, but never like this. This felt too real. Your skin was more pale and less live as she had usually dreamed, your body cold, your chest was stilled, as if not taking air in or out. She hadnʼt noticed her bottom lip quivering or the tears in the corner of her eyes that had began to form.

“Hey, hey... Donʼt get all sappy on me now, iʼve been watching you this whole time! I hope you know that I followed you literally everywhere.” Your hands had gone to cup her cheeks, gently wiping away any tears as they fell from Astrid's eyes.

“Youʼd better have.” She had joked which earned another soft laugh from you. The sound of your laugh - so familiar - seemed to set her off. Her arms tightened around your shoulders as all of the feelings she bottled up over the past few months seemed to just burst out of her.

“I literally watched over you for a whole year. Trust me, I heard every word you were saying to the sky or my grave, hoping I was near to hear you. I was and I canʼt believe you've gotten all sappy, Deetz. You always told me that I was the sap and there you were spilling your guts and hoping my ghost was near.” One of her hands unconsciously moving from her cheek to her back, gently rubbing it.

“They were never one-sided conversations, I was always replying you just couldnʼt hear or see me. I did have some one-sided conversations, though. Like when youʼd be listening to my music or watching a movie and laying on my bed, moping, Iʼd be laid next to you and talk to you. I was always geeking out anyway, you know how I am about my passions.” You added and a snort escaped Astrid.

Her grip on you seemed to tighten as your voice registered in her ears. You were here, you were real.

“I know I sounded like an absolute idiot - I sounded like a broken record begging for you.” Her voice said as she buried her face into your shoulder.

“Come on, I never really left your side, Astrid. I was just hoping the entire time that what you had said about your momʼs ability being fake was real and that you'd somehow gain her ghost whispering abilities. I just wanted you to see me, hear me, feel me. Iʼve been so lonely. Sure, I hang out and laugh with you all the time but I missed actually talking to you and you bantering with me.” A frown tugged at your lips involuntarily.

“You didnʼt sound like a broken record. every word youʼd hope I had heard was beautiful - sappy - but beautiful. Gosh, you donʼt know how horrible it has been watching you cry about me and not being able to do anything about it. My ghosted body was always reaching for you but you wouldn't feel a thing. I promise you, I always held you and trying to do anything I can to get you to seem me but nothing was working.” You added as you buried your face into her shoulder, trying to get impossibly closer to her.

“Iʼm not a ghost whisperer. Don't think youʼre on the loose. I am mad at you, for the record.” Her hands balling the fabric of your shirt between her fist. She inhaled and exhaled deeply - as if your presence was the only thing keeping her grounded at the moment.

“I know, I know. I promise to make it up for the rest of my afterlife. Though, you gotta to admit, you have to believe your momʼs abilities now that you can see me. I know you said you hated the attention that your mom receives for being... Well, her. But they weren't fake after all!” You shook your head with a small laugh.

“Ghost whisperer.” You mumbled with a small smile, her hand immediately smacking you in the back of the head. Which had earned a small, ʻowʼ, from you.

“I donʼt-” She had began saying before her protest had been interrupted by a shuddering breath and a few silent tears falling from her eyes as she held onto tightly.

“I donʼt hate them.” She mumbled before sighing.

“I just-” Again, cutting herself off with a scoff. She wiped her tears as she pulled away from your embrace to scan your face with a soft smile.

“Gosh, I canʼt even remember what I was about to say. Iʼm so happy to see you and i'm a bumbling idiot and-”

“Iʼm so sorry. I've been trying everything, I swear. I even read that stupid ʻHandbook for the Recently Deceasedʼ from cover to cover many times. Only the strange and unusual could ever see me and I tried to reach for your mom but I couldn't for some reason. Slow down, we have so much to talk about.” You said as a frown tugged at your lips again. If you had a beating heart, it would have ached at Astridʼs tears. All you could find yourself doing was trying to make up for the lost time of not being able to comfort her.

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A/N: Hey, guys! I hope you enjoyed it. Should I continue writing this story? There could be multiple parts to this if you guys do enjoy this! Thank you so much for reading! Reqs and or comments, even questions, are all open on my profile! Thank you again! Also, I'd like to add that I understand that in the movie, ghosts are not permitted to leave their area of death or change their clothes. But, for the sake of this fic, let's pretend!

#jenna ortega #astrid deetz #astrid deetz x reader #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x you #Jenna Ortega imagine #Jenna ortega x fem #jenna marie ortega #beetlejuice #beetlejuice beetlejuice #beetlejuice 2

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