#make it to the afterlife after how long | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pucksandpower · 26 days

Text

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.

2K notes · View notes

thinkinonsense · 1 month

Text

WORK SONG❀

old!logan howlett x young fem!reader

cw: fluff, some angst/sadness, a line or two that could be nsfw

wc: 500+

a/n: this idea has haunted me for days now. also, we need more old logan fics!! 2029 logan is so hot and no one wants to talk about it.

part two here

-ˋˏ ༻❁✿❀༺ ˎˊ-

Logan didn't understand why you stayed with him. He can't give you the life you deserve and it kills him because he knows you won't leave for your own good. There were times when Charles would even tell you to run, it broke your heart to see them both suffering.

Logan always commented that you needed to be with someone your age, someone without so much baggage, someone not as dangerous as him. Yet, you stuck around through everything; taking care of Charles and Logan after he's had a rough day.

Truth be told, you were content with your life. Logan made you happy and made you feel important. He provided what he could but you knew he was hurting. His life was far more complicated than you imagined but you were determined to ease it for him.

There were nights when you would wait for him to come home from work. He hated it when you would do that; mumbling into your neck about how you should be resting.

"Couldn't sleep without you, Lo..." You would yawn, wrapping your arms around his sore body.

"Let's get you to bed, princess." He says, picking you up and carrying you to the bedroom.

The only time he could completely relax was in the early morning hours when your sleeping body rested on top of his; as close together as humanly possible. He felt so full of love when you looked at him. Logan felt selfish by keeping you isolated here but god, does he adore you.

On the rare occasion, Logan gets a day off, you make a whole day of it. The two of you would stay in bed all morning. When you would get up to check on Charles, you would slip on one of Logan's shirts from the night before. By noon there would be a cherry pie in the oven and a bottle of scotch on the table. You pull out his favorite cigars while he keeps you glued to his lap. He didn't need anything other than you.

Sometimes Logan would joke that your kisses give him toothaches because you're too sweet for him. You would blush and playfully slap his chest.

At dinner, he would stare at you from across the table while you talked with Charles. If Logan didn't know better, he would've sworn he dreamt you up; some figment of his imagination.

You took care of him any way that you could; kissing his bloody knuckles before wrapping them up, washing his hair when he was too tired to move. He would come home a mess some days yet you never questioned what caused it. When Laura entered your life, you didn't need an explanation. She would be cared for the same as Charles and Logan. You didn't care what he had done as long as he returned home at night.

Logan knew he didn't have much time left. He was falling apart in ways he would never let you see. The more he thought about dying, the less he cared what the afterlife had in store for him because you were his heaven.

No grave would hold him down. Logan was sure to crawl home to you.

2K notes · View notes

really-burnt-toast · 21 days

Text

Redesigning my COTL cast pt.1

HAHA I'm finally done! I only made busts tho bc Im lazy and Im not putting myself through drawing a size chart... YET.

It WILL come, just so I can show pretty outfits and show how ridiculous Leshy's hight is LOL

If you see any spelling mistakes, please ignore them <3

(more info and rambling under cut)

Here I'll write some more things relating to each character;

Lamb

Born in Darkwood to a single mother, their mom had named them Mellia after the flowers that grow there, since they had aided in striving off an illness she had during the pregnancy.

The Lamb grew up pretty happily despite being on the run. Their mother was eventually caught whilst they made an escape. During their years of hiding, they broke their leg during one particularly risky escape and were caught not long after.

Their number is 1.600.666 because I keep making a connection between Darkwood and Germany's Schwartzwald - there are 1.6 million sheep in Germany - so I decided to have that be the approximate number. 666 was just added for fun.

Their ear was tagged to keep track of how many sheep were caught in which realm. They just so happened to be the last to be executed. By mere coincidence.

They were born without horns and kinda made the crown shape into a set. It has the benefit that they can rip em off and use them as impromptu weapons.

Due to centuries of being treated as a tool for a prophecy and merely a vessel, their self esteem is downright horrid. Whilst they don't condone followers speaking ill of them, they pretty much let Narinder trample on their feelings up until they had snapped one day. In the end it did help them both, but it wasn't great it had to be taken to that point.

Extra: I added the vitiligo because when I imagine a human version, I couldn't help but see them as having Vitiligo. Their leg limp was made after I thought it would make them look more imposing seeing someone "weak" suddenly pull out a giant hammer.

Narinder

Found within a burning village under rubble, clutching a crown as war raged around them. He was found by Shamura and taken in.

He was the first to create resurrection and back then it was an EXTREMELY taxing ritual. It would require his own godly flesh to beckon people back to life - thus it would literally cause his skin and flesh to melt off his bones. Now that's not needed anymore but his body is still weak to it, meaning during certain stress factors, he can still become skeletal. He doesn't have scarring from it, but gained some cool markings.

He was bound by his arms, torso and neck - all of which are scarred. In the afterlife he was perpetually sitting, causing him to be paralyzed from the waist down. Once he was usurped he had to regain his ability to walk and was taken care of by the Lamb.

He was in a catatonic state for many years and it only got better gradually with many setbacks. For years he never left the bed and by the time his Siblings had been rescued, he had barely started going outside. He was also suffering from chronic pains which wasn't really helpful.

He's also very... Temperamental. It took him just as long to say anything nice to the Lamb and it took him extra long to see them as more than his vessel.

Extra: I changed his markings to be more like I had imagined them. The catatonic trait and chronic pain was added after the update and I remember how horrible it was having tendonitis and I wanted to channel my distaste into Narinder.

Shamura

Found and raised by the last gods, they weren't the greatest sibling. They may have taken in the others but it took them a long time to be anything other than cold. With Kallamar, Shamura was distant and strict - then with Narinder they attempted to be less harsh after the kid started crying himself to sleep. With Heket and Leshy they got less and less cold. They tried their best, they'd argue.

They got carried away by their feelings as they had feared at the start and that's when the first prophecy came to them. They had kept it hidden for way too long until the balance of the crown's powers were ripping at the seams due to Narinder's pursuit in power - and they made a decision. They had told Kallamar first. Then Heket and Leshy were brought in.

Stuff happened. Now they are barely coherent and at most have an hour or two at a time where they seem to make sense. Leshy stays with them the most. Kallamar takes care of them. Heket takes care of the rest. Their skull is caved in, they lost an eye and limbs - some of the damages can't be hidden by bandages.

There's also this thing that their crown keeps getting out of control whilst trying to keep their mind stable - sometimes they'll get startled - attempt to form a weapon and instead end up with their arm speared through. They have scarring all over their body from it.

Upon recruitment they are pretty overwhelmed. Their crown can't stop them from breaking anymore and they have gotten so used to godhood that mortality now feels like they are literally rotting alive. They can feel their body wasting away.

Only after getting their relic back do they start becoming more independent and stable. They nowadays go through some sort of rehab to try and regain their sense of self.

Extra: Not much was added. I wanted to give them Glasses but I can't for the life of me draw them with a pair... So Ill just say they have them but not show them LOL

Kallamar

His past is basically forgotten. It sorta slipped away since he hadn't deemed it fit to be remembered. At first he had MANY fights with Shamura, then it ceased after a confrontation turned violent which left him with a bad scar.

He had to take care of his younger siblings whilst coming to terms with godhood - filling in whenever Shamura wasn't physically or mostly emotionally unavailable. For a long time he was the only one that could comfort his ailing siblings. Dealing with that sort of made him pretty easily agitated.

When Shamura proposed the plan, he had been hesitant - but ultimately didn't say anything.

Now he takes care of his siblings medically. He hates himself more than he hates anyone else and as much as he is quick to condemn and betray Shamura - he is also quick to condemn himself. Though maybe not as enthusiastically or openly.

He likes to compensate. Giving gifts to request forgiveness - grand displays of favoritism or mainly decking himself and his multiple spouses out with Jewels. He still keeps his wedding rings around his neck and his earring references his siblings.

Funnily enough, he caused the least troubles to the Lamb. They could argue he even seemed relieved after a short while of staying in the cult.

Extra: Added Jewelry and two tentacles because he looked naked without them.

Heket

Loudmouth frog that when found with her crown, she started trying to fight Shamura - insulting whatever parent they had. She kept threatening to poison them too.

In the lineup of her siblings, she was often the one who took the sidelines. If she was happy, she was left alone. If she was displeased, she'd let herself known. The most uncomplicated of the siblings.

You'd almost miss how every other bishop would seek her out when help was needed. While Shamura helped with godhood and Kallamar with emotional needs - Heket was a good person to pester with anything else. She'd handle it - just let big sis do it. Even if she was the second youngest - it's funny how even Kallamar and Narinder would occasionally use the nickname.

Then when everyone else was dealing with their wounds, she picked up the pace and kept their respective cults from falling apart. She handled Silk cradle until Shamura could - helped with Darkwood and took over Anchordeep when Kallamar was tending to the others. No problem.

She was still loud when entering the cult. Not as much as her brother - but she loved to cause scenes. Her muteness didn't seem to hinder her at all with that. She's not allowed near knives but somehow can handle axes?

Her temper problems don't get better. She just stops being an asshole about it.

She prefers having scarfs covering her neck bandages whilst they're all bloody and disgusting.

Extra: Nothing because Heket is already perfect.

Leshy

Literally a weird insect that kept clinging to the crown until it grew big enough to hold in one hand. It bit anything that got close and by the time Shamura found it - he had started eating small critters.

And god, he kept growing and growing until he wasn't a small worm in Shamura's hand but literally too big to fit through most doors. They suspected he'd grow until the end of time. Or well, now since his crown is gone.

He never listens. He screams for fun and overshares the worst details to the point he manages to break his siblings into just accepting anything he talks about. They can't even scold him or punish him since Leshy always finds a way to make things worse for anyone else but himself.

He also copies everyone. First it was Heket's tone. Then it was Narinder's behavior - now he started growing flowers and vine braids to make fun of Kallamar and his antlers were at first a crude mimic of Shamura's pedipalps and now they grow vines to be similar to the jewels hanging from them. He refuses to acknowledge doing so.

He's very clingy. After locking away Narinder, he stayed with Shamura every day until they were out of bed rest. He follows his siblings around and when he does give them a second to breathe - hes probably laying around in Darkwood instead of doing anything productive. He does tends to plants occasionally, but he prefers "to let chaos do its thing" - as if that means anything.

He makes for a great gardener after he stopped trying to break everything upon recruitment. And once he got over growling at every living thing - he actually became one of the most well liked people living there.

Leshy knows exactly what someone needs and somehow finds a way to achieve that with the littlest of efforts. It's the thought that counts.

Extra: Braid and vines because I thought Leshy would look cute with it.

Special: The 4 bishops all wear old faith themed robes, but Shamura got the elder clothes for comfort and Leshy kept tearing his clothes apart so he is not permanently excluded from having any special outfits as punishment. Narinder wears fancy robes (who happen to be loose and warm while being special - otherwise he'd complain)

The Lamb wears one of the leaked fleeces since I loved the red riding hood aesthetic.

In the end this turned more into biographies than actual explanations but its 3:30am, Im sleep deprived and I wanted to get my thoughts out because I start having memory problems again YIPPEE

#cult of the lamb #cotl #cult of the lamb fanart #cotl fanart #cotl au #cotl three times #redesign #furry art #cotl lamb #cotl narinder #cotl narilamb #narilamb mentioned very slightly #cotl leshy #cotl heket #cotl kallamar #cotl shamura #god im tired

645 notes · View notes

tiamathh · 1 month

Text

DANCING ANGEL (37530)

Devotion

This asteroid was named after Ekaterina Pavlova, who was extremely talented in oriental dance and devoted her short life to the art. In my theory, wherever this asteroid is in your chart will show you where you're most devoted and talented.

Masterlist | Paid Readings | Tip Jar

Houses

↑ 1st: Devoted to themselves, these individuals are big on self care and are really confident in their ability to complete and start new cycles at their pace. Their talents lie in being able to find their identity early on in life and also being a bit of a shape shifter, they can be whoever they want to be whenever they want to be whilst staying true to themselves and being authentic.

↑ 2nd: They're devoted to their family and may pursue careers that will provide them stability both emotional and financial, they are usually lucky with getting money through unconventional means too. Their talents lie in being able to make a safe and secure environment for the people around them as well as being extremely resourceful and helpful individuals.

↑ 3rd: Devoted to their ideas and usually their siblings if they have any, may admire them a lot and are also very devoted to learning about new topics. Their talents lie when it comes down to competing especially in regards to the mind and their communication styles are flexible, they can change their way of speech depending on the person they are talking to and are also very convincing.

↑ 4th: Devoted to their homes, especially the ones they make in the future for themselves and are extremely connected to their roots, may be close to maternal figures in their life. Their talents lie in building foundations for later generations, and are usually great in occupations such as therapy as they can help others decipher and understand their emotions.

↑ 5th: Devoted to individuality and self-expression, they are the ones who try to be as different as possible and rebel because it makes them stand out from the crowd. Their talents lie with the performing arts, people with these placements tend to have a commanding presence which makes leads to them naturally being in the spotlight, they're also great at working with children.

↑ 6th: Devoted to what they can do for others, usually workaholics because they simply like doing as much as they can and have high self discipline. Their talents lie in being able to stay in control and rational at their place of work, as well as making great leaders; due to their competence people are willing to follow them, extremely organised and healthy, they don't get sick easily.

↑ 7th: Devoted towards and in their relationships both romantic and platonic, they are big on mutual give and take but are more often givers. Their talents lie in being a mediator, they're a pretty good judge of character and have a natural ability to diffuse tense situations, they're also great at socialising with others and are quick to form lasting and important partnerships.

↑ 8th: Devoted in general, these natives never do something without complete devotion, are the kind of people to immerse themselves into all kinds of experiences. Their talents lie in being able to balance their energies and chakras easily, some may also be good at communicating with individuals from the afterlife or talented at astrology and divination as well due to their ability to sense energies around them.

↑ 9th: Devoted to understanding the depths of the world, questions like 'why?' and 'how?' come to mind, they're also devoted to their ideals and morals. Their talent lies in pursuing careers that are related to higher education as well as being able to learn languages quickly, they're also quick at picking up information about different cultures and they often bring others luck.

↑ 10th: Devoted to their vision and long term goals, they always look at the bigger picture and are often close to paternal figures in their life. Their talents lie in being authoritive and guide people through life, usually in a professional setting. They're great at being able to maintain a high reputation and can easily mask their true selves to exhibit the sort of public image they want.

↑ 11th: Devoted to the community, are also very concerned about giving back to nature and the community, usually extremely involved with social services especially volunteering at animal shelters. Their talents lie with being original, they may also be highly intuitive and be able to predict near future events, and are also great at getting people to start community service.

↑ 12th: Devoted to their subconscious and their intuition, they always listen to their gut and and usually go with the flow, believing that there is a plan even when they can't see it. Their talents lie with having psychic abilities such as bring clairvoyant, clairaudient, etc and they're also really good with shadow work, they can help bring closure to the people around them as well.

#asteroid #astrology #astro community #astro observations #astro notes #astrology notes #asteroid notes

538 notes · View notes

notglue-9 · 26 days

Text

About My AU

This is about how 8 souls in Minecraft afterlife,try to live in peace and harmony.

Random facts about world/lore:

• You can’t stay at night for long as your own nightmares and fears will begin to haunt you.

• Catnap has had corruption three times. And each time it gets worse and more painful.

• on a full moon in Cartoon world, Catnap will turn into that same creepy version of himself from his past life.

• Bobby: mother/big sister figure

Bubba: Big bro/Father figure

Kickin: best Bro/best friend

Hoppy: best sister/best friend

Crafty: comfort shy bestie

Picky: the same kind aunt who will feed and take care of you/sibling figure

• Catnap lives with Bobby or Bubba.

The guys built houses for each other while they were in the afterlife. And they built a House for Dogday in advance.

• It hurts Catnap to show other emotions with his mouth, so he always smiles. But in the animation "Overnight" he was so upset that he didn't care about the pain and to show his sadness to Dogday he erased his smile

About Medallions

medallions are their souls.

Catnap collects the negative emotions of other critters. This makes his medallion increase. Although he helps others, it’s worse for him if he collects a lot of negativity within himself. He's in pain and reaaally Sick.💀

Each critter has their own cracks in their medallions. They show their emotional state.

Why is Catnap's medallion different?

it’s just that Catnap is punished for what he did in a past life. He pays back by helping and providing therapy to others there will be a rollback from negativity only if someone helps him. But no one will help him yet. The worse the Catnap medallion stage, the more his voice disappears, his beautiful lullaby voice becomes either mute or creepy.

The reason why Catnap is still cursed with this "therapy" ability. He feels guilty for all his mistakes. And it haunts him. His guilt hits harder than other negative emotions of smiling critters.

Sometimes a big red cloud hangs over him in the shape of his past life. And until he forgives himself and does not help others. He will be forever cursed and suffer

Cracked or Cursed Medallions symptoms

When Catnap is too overwhelmed with negativity. He coughs up Red Smoke.

But it doesn’t affect the others in any way. Although other critters are scared by this smoke. Especially Dogday.

Broken medallions.

These are souls that have not found peace, traumatized, broken. They feel bad mentally.

About ARCS.

Arc 0. - Catnap's Therapy. Pilot lmao

Arc 1. - Eclipse, nightmares and dreams,"I'm sorry"

Arc 2.- Corruption,Hey Dogday,,the groundhog Day,comics about other Critters

Arc 3- (Red crescent arc) - Your face,Camping, Theatre, others in future

Arc 4.- After prank, overnight,Moon's everyday Life.

Arc 1- Everyone hates Catnap. They shun him. Beat him,kick him. Bobby was the first to befriend him.

Arc. 2.Catnap helps them cope with their traumas that have begun to appear and interfere with their lives.

Arc 3.They are all more or less well. Some notice Catnap's strange behavior. Dogday has a hard time accepting Catnap. He already wanted to more or less make the relationship better. But the Red Moon appeared.

Their voices ,Their speaking style

Dogday: The deep voice of a veteran who went through a 100-year war. But sometimes it changes to squeaky if it experiences strong emotions. He remained expressive, but his face is always angry as if it would bite you.

Catnap: Actually he was mute. But he was given a voice in the afterlife. He still can't get used to it. His voice is very gentle, cold and pleasant to the ear, like the Cradle. His voice is also designed for singing.

Bobby: Calming tone, tactile when communicating. Sometimes she makes beautiful speeches. And very chatty. Loves to gossip.

Bubba: Monotonous and calculating Voice. He speaks briefly and clearly. And doesn't gesture at all and he is very passive.

Kickin: He deliberately makes his voice tone rougher to seem cool. He comes up with different slangs and often makes funny gestures. But when he's scared, his voice becomes very squeaky and he chirps like a Chicken.

Hoppy: She has a loud and confident voice, like a fitness club trainer. She will never tire of shouting motivational words at you. She often jumps and runs around you. She doesn't sit still while she chats with you.

Crafty: A gentle and sweet voice, like a princess. She is often distracted and has Daydreaming Syndrome.

Loves fairy tales and everything that is not from reality. She can debate her point of view about creativity

Picky: She has a very fun and playful voice. But sometimes you don’t understand whether she’s happy or ready to roast you in a fire.

A truly charming farmer and chef. Loves the Western theme.

#smiling critters au #mourningandmendingau #my au

485 notes · View notes

cryptidghostgirl · 7 months

Note

hii i read your fic with the humanalastor! x reader where they become like partners in crime (i loved it sm)

and got an idea based off of it

what if Alastor dies first and a few years later Alastor and the reader reunite after she goes to the hotel? thought it would be kinda cute :)

A/N ngl I was thinking of doing something like this so I am very happy it is desired by the people as well. Also, we're gonna pretend that the timeline I created wouldn't make her like over a hundred years old when she died, okay? Okay.

Cover Up Pt. 2 (Alastor x Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of murder and blood, nothing graphic. Alastor being a depressed little bitch. Also a lot of dead bird metaphors for lost hope. Please let me know if I forgot anything.

Word Count: 1,971

Part One: Cover Up (Human!Alastor x Human!Reader)

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

When Alastor had died, Y/n had shattered. Their years of holding one another's bloodstained hands had finally drawn to a close. They had a good run, nearly a decade before anyone caught on. His death also came with the added downside of throwing suspicion on Y/n. To say the event changed her life would be an understatement.

When Alastor had first woken up in Hell, he had mourned his loss as if she was the one who had died and not him. The allowance of such a foolish thing was short lived. He quickly realized there was no way Y/n wouldn't end up in Hell as well eventually, with her track record. He refocused his pain, his anguish into making sure he had the perfect world to serve up to her on a platter as soon as she arrived.

As the years ticked on, the little bird fluttering away in his ribcage became more and more despondent. He tried to distract himself by continuing his work, continuing his plans for her. Always for her. It worked to a certain extent but, soon it had been sixty years and she still hadn't made her arrival. It didn't matter how many overlords he killed, how many worthless souls he tortured. There was nothing that could take his mind off that.

Alastor wondered what sort of life Y/n had made for herself after his death. He wondered if she had found love again, held out hope that she hadn't. It was a selfish wish, he knew it. Alastor had always been selfish. It wasn't that he wished for her to be unhappy, just that he knew she was the only person, living or dead, out there for him. There was no hope for Alastor that wasn't Y/n and he wanted her to feel the same way about him. He didn't want to lose, to have been an idiot, to have been the one that loved more. At the same time, he didn't want her to feel that way either. It was complicated and confusing, the twists of his own logic.

Another decade and he began wondering if somehow his beloved wife had gotten into Heaven instead. He knew it was a long shot, after everything she had done but, she had also never killed anyone who didn't deserve it. Maybe there was some exception for women who killed their pursuers, when the pursuers were coming on too intensely or had ulterior motives. He wondered if she'd remarried, if she had kids. If she was still on earth, there would have to be something that was keeping her there and that was the only thing that made sense.

Eighty years, as it turned out, had been all he could take. The bird had died and its corpse had rotted, festering into anger. Not anger at Y/n no, never anger at Y/n but anger at the world, at the system of the afterlife. He became bolder, brasher, more foolish. He got caught in a bad deal.

Coming to the hotel had been a command, yes, but it had also ended up being something of a salvation for the man. In the seven years of his disappearance from the rings of Hell, there had been little to distract him from the growing hole of Y/n's absence. It was a hungry thing, a deep seated want, a controlling desire. The hotel served to fill it. Not completely, but a little. It was better than nothing. Besides, for all her violence, Y/n had always had a way of seeing the best in others, in the world around her. He was certain she would have liked Charlie if she ever got to meet her, certain the hotel would shine in his wife's eyes.

Husk and Nifty were the only two who knew. They had both met him when Alastor's focus had been the creation of a world for Y/n, it was impossible for them not to. They had both noticed how as the years had passed, he had said her name less, how he had become crueler. Not even Charlie had in inkling of an idea that Alastor might be missing something, might be unshakable heartbroken. He hid it well.

Even now as he entered the lobby intent on finding Charlie in order to discuss some of the decor on the upper floors, he made sure his smile was firmly fixed in place. A smile was the strongest weapon a person or demon could have, the strongest disguise. He made sure he was never without one.

"So you just arrived today?" he heard Charlie saying as he began to make his way down the stairs.

He could see her by the door, talking to a demon whom her position obscured from his vision. A new guest. Internally, Alastor sighed. This was throwing a wrench into his plans for the day.

"Yeah I... it's all so confusing here. Wonderful in a way, don't get me wrong but... when I heard about your hotel, it seemed safe."

The unknown demon's voice was soft, it pulled at his heart strings. The corpse of the bird was a puppet at its familiarity. It was a sickening feeling, the dead body of his hope being pulled up and twitched around for another's unknowing amusement. Alastor nearly faltered, hesitating on the last step.

"So are you actually interested in redemption?" Charlie asked, sounding downcast.

"Well, I'm not really sure yet. Is that okay? I mean, I just got here today and... either way, I love the idea of your hotel and I want to help. I could work as a maid? Or I'm a pretty good cook? My husband always said so anyways. I'm sort of trying to find someone too so... What I'm trying to say is that I could work until I've figured it out, if that is alright with you?"

Charlie hummed in thought as Alastor began to cross the room, heading straight for the pair.

"It's a bit unorthodox but, I suppose. We could always use another helping hand."

"Really!?" the stranger exclaimed, "Oh thank you!"

Alastor was over Charlie's shoulder practically now. She shifted on her feet, allowing Alastor to at last see the person she was talking to.

"So, what's your name?"

The demon opened her mouth to speak but, before a word could leave her lips, she was interrupted by a static filled voice. It brought back memories, hurt her heart to hear.

"Y/n."

There was no doubt about it. Even in her new demon form, Alastor knew. It was the curl of her hair, it was the brightness of her eyes, the way she held herself. She looked up at him with wide eyes.

"When did you get here?" Charlie asked in confusion as she turned to the side, turning the pair into a group of three all facing one another, "Also, you know her? Oh my gosh, wait. Are you okay? I don't think I've ever seen you not smiling before."

Neither payed the princess any mind, each absorbed in one another's eyes. Y/n took a sutering half step forwards, her mouth slightly open.

"Alastor?"

It was barley more than a whisper. She took another step towards him, then yet another. Lifting her hand, she gently cupped it around his cheek. Instinctively, the Radio Demon leaned into the touch.

"It really is you... isn't it."

Alastor pulled Y/n into his arms, wrapping her in his frame and resting his chin on the top of her head. Y/n was frozen in shock for a moment before she returned the gesture, balling her fists in to the back of his coat.

"Wow. You guys really know each other." Charlie mumbled to herself, eyes wide.

The pair pulled apart, Alastor still holding Y/n's waist as Y/n held his coat. She looked up at him, disbelief etched into her features, her sentiments reflected back to her in Alastor's own face.

"I thought..." he mumbled, raising a hand and tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, "I thought I'd never see you again."

Y/n laughed tearfully.

"Me too."

"Where have you been? What happened? What... what took you so long?"

"If I had known I was coming to you, I would have died way sooner. I lived, Al. That's what happened. I only just got here today."

"I know, I heard, but what... what kept you?"

Y/n heard the tremor in his voice, the fear. She looked up at him, eyes narrowed.

"Are you jealous?"

Alastor's eyes flicked to the side momentarily. One of his ears twitched. It might have been nearly ninety years since they had last seen one another, they might've looked completely different and had whole lives the other wasn't in, but it felt like they had just seen one another yesterday.

"Oh, you so are!" Y/n teased brightly.

"Y/n."

"Yeah, yeah. It's just dumb is all, especially now I know you've been here all along."

"So tell me."

Y/n had always loved his insistence. It was what kept Alastor to his code, kept him to her, kept him him. She smiled once again.

"Soooo..." Charlie stepped in, her hands behind her back, "Either of you want to explain?"

Both Alastor and Y/n at last turned to look at her. He was smiling again, Charlie noticed. Not the normal ear to ear grin, teeth bared, she was used to. Something smaller, something softer. They released one another, only for Alastor to immediately drape an arm over Y/n's shoulders. It almost seemed like each feared the other would vanish into thin air if they weren't physically touching. She reached a hand up, gently holding his hand where it hung off her shoulder, keeping him to her.

"Charlie, this is my darling, lovely wife."

Y/n shoved him playfully and he smiled down at her.

"You're married!?"

"Yes." Y/n nodded, "We are. Have been for what, like one hundred years now?"

"So what kept you?" Alastor asked again and Y/n sighed.

"You really aren't going to let this go, are you?"

He shook his head. Y/n slipped out from under Alastor's arm, taking both his hands in hers. Her fingers traced his knuckles, the lines of his bones beneath the surface of his skin. Her eyes watched their hands, she sighed.

"After... well, Al, you died burying a body. It was hard for people not to know. I..."

"You got caught? You went to jail?" Alastor interrupted, his smile having fallen once again.

Y/n laughed slightly under her breath.

"No, heart. I stopped my own work but, the whole world knew of yours. I thought that... it was so dumb! I thought that... if I was alive, then so was the real version of you in some way. Not the true crime, vandalized version, but the person I knew."

Alastor lifted her face to his, his hand lingering under her chin.

"You were always secretly quite the romantic, weren't you."

"Oh hush you."

"Make me."

Y/n cheeks suddenly flushed bright red.

"Okay!" Charlie interrupted, laughing nervously, "Okay, well, I'm happy for... this, um, Alastor! Why don't you show Y/n around?"

"With pleasure."

Alastor leaned down, kissing Y/n gently. Her hand was half raised to burry itself in his hair when he pulled away, smirking in response to Y/n's irritated glare. Linking arms with her, he began leading Y/n to the staircase.

"I must say, I rather like this new look of yours." he hummed placidly.

"You're not half bad yourself deer boy, if a little cocky."

"I was always cocky. That's what you liked about me."

"Wrong. It's only one of the things I love about you."

----

Next Part -> Cover Up pt. 3

1K notes · View notes

strawb3rrystar · 7 months

Note

Hi! I was wondering if you were comfortable doing Hazbin with a parental reader who is always sweet and calm and then the character gets hurt and reader looses it? Like, what would their reactions be to someone who is usually a pacifist absolutely destroying someone!

Part of the family.

Pairing: Charlie Morningstar, Vaggie, Angel Dust, Husk, Sir Pentious, Velvette, Lute x GN! Overlord! Reader

Warnings: None :3

Word count: 394

✰Masterlist

Charlie will be amazed at how quickly you switch up when she gets hurt. She's also kinda afraid of you now tho. But you remind her after her dad a lot, which she really likes. Charlie has a lot of parental figures in her life, so why not add another to the list! She probably shouldn't have doubted your strength considering you're an Overlord.

Vaggie will be shocked when you lose your shit. She'll also be shocked at how skilled you are at fighting. Sometimes she forgets you're an Overlord like Alastor. She'll insist that she's okay, but you'll still want to treat her wounds yourself. Vaggie has never really had a parental figure in her afterlife, so she enjoys being taken under your care.

Angel Dust will play off the fact that you protected him as no big deal. He obviously knew you would step in. He always tells you time and time again that he can handle himself whenever you get worried. He secretly really appreciates that you stepped in, but he'll never show it.

Husk will thank you, but will also remind you he can handle himself. He was an Overlord too, you know. You can't tell if he enjoys your affection or not. But he does, he really, really does. He'll never show it, but he loves that an Overlord is actually treating him with kindness.

Sir Pentious will feel like he's forever in debt to you for saving him. He's been in hell for a long time yet he's never met someone so willing to put themselves in harms way to help him. I think that because he benefits so much being around Charlie and the others, that he'd also benefit from having a strong parental figure like you.

Velvette will probably make an appreciation post dedicated to you after you save her. She's an Overlord too and can handle herself, but you've most likely have been one longer than she has. Vox and Val are definitely not the best father figures out there, so she needs a better role modal like you.

Lute might be upset that you saved her. She didn't work her ass off becoming lieutenant just to be protected by some demon. You probably protected her from a demon attack during extermination day, or something. She'll silently be grateful and let you live another day.

Star's notes -> All of our sweethearts who deserve to have a parental figure in their afterlives.

(Thank you, sweet anon, for your request!) (Requests are open!)

Taglist -> @alexandria-fandom @corruptcoder @astrolovedy @perfectlycraftychaos @stressedbleach @idontreallyexistyet @ghostdoodlen @roboticsuccubus83 @blood-heart22 @cirrus-sampling-sanity @calalapatapola @hazbinhottel @budozone @sugarplumz100 @marenelili @myamythos @hazbinhappy | Join the taglist

#☆strawb3rrystar answers requests #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #charlie morningstar #charlie morningstar x reader #charlie x reader #vaggie #vaggie x reader #angel dust #angel dust x reader #husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk #husker x reader #sir pentious #sir pentious x reader #hazbin hotel velvette #velvette x reader #hazbin hotel lute #lute x reader

848 notes · View notes

aritsukemo · 3 months

Text

Your 25th Birthday | Multiple Characters

Characters: Obanai Iguro, Mitsuri Kanroji, Shinobu Kocho, Sanemi Shinazugawa, Kyojuro Rengoku, Zenitsu Agatsuma, and Kanae Kocho

Warnings: Angsty themes ahead! Takes place after the canonical events of Demon Slayer but in an au where the characters who died survive! Reader is crippled in a few of these ( Kyojuro's s/o especially has been through hell and is heavily implied to be paralyzed from the waist down. There are also implications that she's been burned, cut up, etc. ) so read at your own risk!

Summary: It's the night before their marked!s/o's 25th birthday! How do they spend it with them? 🤔

A/N: I wrote this scenario over on Wattpad for a special and I really liked how it came out so I wanted to share some of my favorite parts over here on Tumblr! Hope you enjoy it! 😁

"Do you think we'll meet each other in every life?" The question was whispered out in the dead of night as you sat on the engawa of your estate. Obanai sat next to you, being used for both support and a source of comfort. You watched the stars twinkle in the sky, a forgone look in your eyes that he's never seen before. It was unnerving to him since it felt like he was staring at a breathing corpse..

"Of course. If that's what you want, I'll find you in every life," He answered to which you hummed, your expression unchanging from the one of unsettling contentment.

"What if something happens to prevent us from being together?" You muttered grimly despite the smile painted on your face. Obanai was quicker answering this time around, "Nothing would prevent me from being with you. Nothing."

"Even if I'm a total jerk?" You questioned. He answers, "Even if you're a total jerk."

"Even if we're on opposite sides of the world?" You continued. He answers, "Even if we're on opposite sides of the world."

"Even if I turned into a man-eating demon and tried to eat you?" And then he pauses. You giggle at him despite the bad taste the lack of answer gives you and mutter out a soft, "Sorry. That was mean of me to ask. Forget—"

"Even.." This time, you pause. Your head bobbing back to look up at him and those marvelous mismatched eyes of his. He's already looking at you by that time. He's been doing so the entire time, never once glancing at the night sky since the two of you sat down.

He continues, "..Even if you turned into a man-eating demon and tried to eat me," He says, "I can't promise that we would be together in that life, but in the afterlife, I'd do everything in my power to make you the happiest person in the world."

You hadn't realized it until he moved his hand from your waist and started rubbing at your cheeks that you had started crying. Even when you did realize it, you didn't do anything besides let the tears fall because even if you wanted to wipe away the tears, you had long lost feeling in your arms to do so.

In the end, you smother your face into his haori, not caring that you suddenly felt the cool scales of Kaburamaru as he wrapped himself snugly—but not too tightly—around your neck.

"Thank you.." You sniveled as your tears wet his shoulder, "Thank you so much for loving me, Obanai.."

"Thank you for allowing me to love you, Y/n," He said back as he let you stain his shoulder with your tears.

"Awh, don't cry, pretty girl.. Not over me," You cooed as your fingers ran through the pink of Mitsuri's hair. She was hunched over on the bedside, face in your lap and her fat, wet tears dripping down her stained cheeks—passing the moles under her eyes that you love to kiss—and splashing onto your kimono.

She had worked so hard trying to mentally prepare herself for tonight, but when she entered the room and saw your tired, smiling face staring back at her, she broke down.

There was still so much she wanted to do with you! So many dates she wanted to take you on! So many foods she wanted to cook and try with you! So many firsts she still hasn't been able to take from you and so many firsts you haven't had the time to take from her! So many memories she still wanted to make with you!

Why can't she be given just a little more time with her sweetheart? She gets that this sacrifice was a necessary one and she wouldn't be here otherwise if it weren't for you pushing yourself the extra mile and saving her, but she can't help the sinking feeling of regret that drags her heart down to her stomach by a chain of sorrow at the thought of you leaving..

"I- I'm..so sorry.." She managed to say between sobs, "I'm.. I'm sorry...I.."

"Sorry for what, honey?' You asked her in a tender tone, "You haven't done anything wrong."

"I.. I.." She takes a moment, unable to form a proper sentence without choking on her own sobs, "I'm sorry for being such a horrible wife!" Now, you certainly weren't expecting that out of all things..

Your brows furrow as your hand stills in her hair, "You aren't a bad wife, honey," You said, trying your best to sound firm despite the slight tremor in your voice from exhaustion.

"Yes, I am!" She wailed, "I haven't been able to do anything for you! You.. You were always the one caring for me and I haven't been able to fulfill any of your needs or do anything you should be proud of!"

"Hey, hey, hey," You shushed, "Look at me..please," And she listens immediately like a puppy at your beck and call. She lifts her head, her big green eyes puffy and filled to the brim with tears despite the constant stream that flows down her pink, warmed cheeks.

"You are an amazing wife, alright? Marrying you was the best thing to ever happen to me," You told her, putting a slight pause between each word to better emphasize your statement. You used your fingers to urge her to come closer and she complies, inching closer until she's close enough so that you could cup her face.

"You simply waking up and smiling at me everyday is enough for me. Seeing you happy and healthy is enough for me, do you understand me?" You asked, the shake in your voice getting worse, "You've done everything to satisfy me. If anything, I should apologize to you for not granting your wishes."

What are you talking about? There's no way you seriously think that, right?

"No! Don't apologize!" Suddenly pushing herself up with her arms, her face suddenly got so close to yours that you had to move your had back so that you two didn't accidentally bump heads, "My wish was to marry someone who'd love me for me.. Wh-.. Who'd love my freakish strength and my weird hair color and my abnormal appetite and you've done that better than anyone ever could!" As she talks, her cool tears drip onto your warm hands and scatter upon contact, "You've made me feel like the most beautiful woman in the world and you've spoiled me at every turn! You've made my life feel like it was worth living, so please—!" She moves forward, wrapping her arms around your neck and putting her tearful face into your shoulder, "Don't downplay your hard work! I can't bear you doing that after you've given so much to me!"

And with that, she crumbles all over again on your shoulder, and to your surprise, you do too. As her grip loosens and she slides down your body, ending with her head at your lap once again and bawling into it, you felt your eyes welling up with tears.

"Mitsuri.." Your throat began to ache from trying to keep your voice steady as your bottom lip began tremble. You tried to control yourself further by slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle a sob that threatened to slip from your lips, but your tears rolled from your eyes without your permission and down your hand, dripping onto your beloved before you could catch them with your other hand..

In the end, a particularly loud hiccup sounded your defeat and you bowed your head. Your hands sliding over your face as you cried with the former Love Hashira who you are grateful to call your spouse in this life.

"It's been a while since I've seen that expression on your face," You said as you gazed up at the prettiest woman you've ever laid your eyes on. Her thin brows dipped and wrinkling her smooth, porcelain-like skin just like the thin line she made with her lips, which you notice twitch just a tad at your comment.

She doesn't say anything to retort what you said. Not a witty remark or sarcastic, irritated utterance or a flowery deflection leaving her pink-painted lips. She simply gazes down in silence, her polished thumb rubbing lines into the back skin of your hand in a steady motion. It causes your eyes to frown and otherwise droop as you realize that your simple attempt at relieving the tense atmosphere in the room has failed.

"Shinobu," You call, "Can you smile for me?" And she listens, her brows lifting just like her lips as they form into that perfect smile that took her years to perfect. Just the sight of it makes you frown.

"Not like that. I want to see a genuine smile.." You mutter and just like that, her smile drops and her brows knit together once again. This time, though, it's all brought together by the vein flexing on her forehead.

"How am I suppose to do that when my wife is dying in front of me?" She asks, voice quiet and complimented by a vexed tone. In the past, you always hated when she got mad at you. Seeing her so visibly irked was frightening, even more so when it was directed at you..

But right now, hearing her angry tone and seeing her infuriated expression brought you nothing but comfort and caused your smile to return. She notices it and it pushes her to ask you in an exasperated tone, "How can you do that?"

You blink, confused "Do what?"

"Smile," She tells you, "You of all people know what's about to happen, but you still smile at me.."

"What's wrong with that? Can't I smile at the woman I fell head over heels for until I stop breathing?" You egg on and that little nudge is all she needs to be pushed over the edge and for her to explode and for tears of pure frustration to fill her eyes.

"Stop joking around!" Her voice comes out raised and aggressive, like an angry dog ready to attack someone. She must've realized that, because she grits her teeth and sucks in a breath. Taking a few seconds to collect herself a little before continuing. Her voice was still brimming with anger, but sounding more controlled.

"You're going to die any minute now. Don't you understand that? You're going to pass away and leave everything behind..you're going to leave me alone here.. You know all of that, yet you still smile at me without a hint of regret or sadness, and I'm sorry, but I can't stand looking at you like that!"

"Why would I have regrets?" You ask, "I achieved all my goals and did everything I wanted to do in this lifetime. Kibutsuji is dead. There are no more demons terrorizing the innocent. And, I was able to live the rest of my years surrounded by the ones I love and cherish. I even got the bonus of becoming a Kocho and marrying the woman of my dreams," You say, rubbing at your finger as the ring on it flashes in the moonlight that shines down through the singular window in the room, "What's there to regret?"

"What about the fact that everything is coming to an end? You won't be here to make memories with me or any of your friends or family?" As the tears fall down her cheeks, Shinobu finds herself balling her hands into fists. She despised crying, especially when in the presence of others, but she couldn't control herself. Like an immature little kid, she couldn't control her emotions and her blood boiled all the more because of it.

"I'll always be here, even if it's not physically," You told her softly and she starts matching your tone, although the agitation in hers is still so apparent.

"Be serious for one second, Y/n," She snapped, only for you to follow up with, "I've been serious this entire time, love."

Then her tone raises again, "No, you haven't!" And then it falls again as she lets out an embarrassing choke, "T- There's..no way you have. How could you possibly be fine with this?"

"Because I know that as long as the people I love are still here to remember me and value that time I spent with them, I'll never truly die.. At least..not in their eyes," You tell her, ignoring the fact that Shinobu is starting to become harder and harder to see by the second.

Shinobu sobs and chokes die down after a while. By that time, your eyelids started feeling like paper weights; unbearably heavy. You tried to play it off by blinking slowly, but your wife caught on quickly. She could tell you were hitting your limit and you thought that'd it make her anger spike again or cause her another breakdown, but neither happened. Instead she surprised you by curling her lips upwards. Her eyes were red from crying and you couldn't see it well, but the corner of her brows twitched. Her cheeks was also stained pink, likely from embarrassment of having broke down in front of someone, even if that someone was her own wife.

To put it frankly, she was a mess with a smile painted over it. But it was genuine and from the heart and that was enough to satisfy you.

The afternoon glow of the sky shone down on you as you stuck your hand, which had a handful of rice in it, out to a dog. Sanemi watched, looking like a little kid experiencing their first crush, as the dog barely hesitated to come closer and begin liking at your hand.

The scene was like a painting come to life. You were all dressed up in an expensive kimono he bought you. Your hair was styled in a way to match your attire and to frame your face, which was powdered in elegant, nice-looking makeup. And, you had a smile on your face as you gave the dog a similar look a mother would give her child while rocking them to sleep in her arms.

That thought reminded him of how he could never bring himself to make you a mother. How he feared that he wouldn't be able to bear the sight of your child, who'd undoubtedly resemble you in some kind of way, after your passing. Or, how he feared he'd accidentally end up just like his monstrous, asshole of a father and you'd stare at him with the same fright in your eyes as his mother did to his father.

He's not cut out to be a dad. Never was. And it's a shame because Sanemi knows you'd make an excellent mother. Thinking about it puts a bad taste in his mouth and in an attempt to rid himself of those thoughts, he huffs out a sigh and runs his fingers through his hair. He can't risk thinking of something so disheartening and make himself sad. You proposed taking a walk around to clear his head of such thoughts after all and he doesn't want your efforts to go to waste.

"Sanemi," He blinks. How long were you calling his name? He stares at you once again and this time, you're turned and staring over your shoulder at him, who's sat on the steps, your hand now running through the dog's fur. Your smile is still there, but your eyes are dimmed with concern. The sight makes him feel guilty as it dawns on him that he probably worried you.

"Are you alright?" You asked and he responds to you quickly, "I'm fine. Don't worry about me."

Maybe it was because of how fast he answered you, but you didn't seem convinced. You kept staring at him with a woeful, skeptical look and it broke him, so he rephrases his previous statement, "I was just..thinking about stuff."

"What kind of stuff?" You asked, your hand leaving the dog's at last and getting up from your crouched position in front of the dog, "Want to talk about it?"

"No," He replied, but you walked up to him and sat beside him on the steps anyways and he sighs and says, "I promise it's nothing. Today is your day, so let's do something that focuses on you."

He sees your smile widen, and he finds himself unable to keep eye contact with a work of art such as yourself. He looks away from you, the tips of his ears beginning to burn. He then hears that addicting laugh of yours and he feels his heart thrumming in his chest. Gosh, you were going to be the death of him..

"You're such a sweetheart," No he isn't, was what he wanted to say but decided against it to spare both of you an unnecessary argument. It's a known fact that he's the farthest thing from sweet. That said, when he's in your presence, he can't help but be overly gentle with you. He can't help but touch and caress you as if you were made of priceless gemstones. He can't help but pamper you like you're some kind of princess. That's probably why your perception of him is so skewed compared to others.

You are the only person alive who has that perception of him. You are the only person alive who can set his skin ablaze with something as simple as a poke of your finger. You are the only person alive who'd devote your limited time on making him feel the way you have. You are the only person alive who still saw him a kind light while whispering endearments and kissing him and feeling him years ago when many people around him saw him as a monster.

..And someone so kind, so caring, so compassionate..will no longer be in this world soon. You, who always looked at him like he was the most precious thing in the world will soon perish because you disregarded your own wellbeing during the war and gave your all to bring an end to that abomination named Muzan Kibutsuji.

"Y/n.." He calls, still not looking at you. You hum, waiting on him to continue. Certainly not expecting him to ask, "Would you be willing to waste another lifetime loving me?"

A silence grew between you two and Sanemi would be lying if he said that it didn't hurt not hearing a response from you. He expected it though.

"I don't have much to offer you in this life and I wouldn't be surprised if the same goes for the next. I also can't promise I'll act any better. ..Tch, there's a better chance that I'll be more of a prick in my next life—"

"I would," He grows silent, finally turning his head towards you so that he could look you in the eyes. So that he could scan your facial expression. So that he could find proof that you were lying in your statement just now. But, he doesn't find anything of the sorts and it makes him feel sick—repulsed—at how giddy he feels at the realization that you're dead serious.

"Although, I don't think it'd be a waste of a life," You continued as an afterthought, taking mind to the way he wraps his fingers around the hand that you are leaning on and being as delicate as always as he peels it away from the ground so that he could hold it in his hand.

"If you act even a little like you do now in your next life, I wouldn't mind spend all of eternity with you," He brings your hand up to his face, planting a kiss to the back of your hand before he presses the back of your hand to his forehead and tells you..

"..Thank you for being kind enough..to choose me again."

"You look radiating," He told you. It didn't make your frown turn upside down or even budge as you stared at yourself, sat in a wheelchair; a thick, flowery blanket draped over your legs to keep them warm—not that you could really feel the warmth. Sometime after your 23rd birthday, you stopped feeling the lower half of your body.

"I used to look radiating," You muttered dryly, your only functional eye moving to scrutinize every little scar and wrinkle that ruined your skin. Looking at them made your frown deepened as well as huff out a loud, long, breathy sigh; one that sounded just as tired as you looked in the mirror..

"I don't know why you still wanted me after the war. Look at me.."

"Okay!" Kyojuro said from behind you and just like he's told, his golden, fiery eyes give you a good, long look through the mirror. As the seconds turn into minutes, you find your face heating up. You were ashamed of yourself. Your once smooth skin was littered in painfully permanent cracks, bruises, and blemishes that were caused by mistakes against powerful demons. Your face had more wrinkles than a grandmother despite the fact that you were only in your mid-twenties. Your lips had scars so deep and dark that even the brightest-colored lipstick couldn't hide them.

To put it in simple terms, the sight of yourself made you want to barf.

"I've did what you wanted," He finally says, "Do you know what I see?"

"An ugly, disgusting hag?" You finish for him and you hear a gentle, warm laugh from behind you. It makes a wave of embarrassment ride through the ocean of your stomach. You were being laughed at by your husband. It was humiliating, but you didn't blame him. I mean, you were hideous in your eyes. You probably looked a thousand times worse to other people..

"I see a woman with beautiful eyes that shine like the sun whenever she's happy or proud or upset. A woman who's personality makes me laugh and feel loved and proud. A woman with lips softer than the clouds in the sky even though the words that come out of them usually aren't nearly as fluffy. A woman who's body I always fantasize holding and protecting no matter the attire that covers it. The woman who'd kick me on my butt during a spar and then fret for hours over me getting a tiny cut from chopping vegetables.."

"Y/n, I know that we don't see the same thing, but if I could give you my sight, I know that even you would grow flush from how absolutely breathtaking you are in my eyes."

"Stop," You snap, your head hung low, "Stop," You repeat, but your voice sounds more fragile; like glass cracking bit by bit.

"Stop what?" He crouches down and then slides over so that he's on his knees by your side. His smile is as bright as it was when you first met him all those years ago, "Stop praising my wife?"

"Yes because your wife looks like a freak of nature! A- A demon! A—!"

"—A woman who worked hard and gave her all and pushed past her limits so that me, my family, my friends, and the rest of the world could live in peace," He finishes and then continues, "A woman who sacrificed so much to make sure that no one has to suffer by the hands of a demon ever again.." As he spoke, admiration drips into his voice like sweet honey, "A woman I am honored to call my wife; you."

"Shut up!" You said as you shattered completely, tears filling your eyes without your permission, "Shut up.. Shut up.." You wept.

"I.. I'm not.." And in that moment, something else broke inside of you and you couldn't utter another word. Tears, snot—everything rolled violently down your face and in a pathetic attempt to hide that sight from the world, both of your hands come up to cover your face. And without missing a beat, Kyojuro, smiling from ear to ear, wraps his big, warm arms around you and encases your frail, upper half..

"I love you, Y/n. It truly was, and is, an honor to be your husband."

"What am I going to do, Y/n?" He found himself asking as he gazed up at you from where he laid in your lap. He had been, understandably, anxious and upset all day and to prevent him from wallowing in that sadness until your inevitable demise, you asked him to lay his head down in your lap and allow you to stroke his hair.

"You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. My life was a pathetic mess before I met you.." He shamelessly admits, "I'm nothing without you.."

"I'm positive that you'll be okay," You reassure, or at least, you try to. The look he gives you after you say that makes it clear that your words didn't make him feel better at all.

"Zenitsu, you may find it hard to believe, but you're a strong person. Why else do you think I'm so calm right now?" You ask, and he doesn't say anything as he's unable to find the right words to refute you. It's a step in the right direction, you think.

"I think my husband is more than able to fill my place when I'm gone. I know whatever decision he'll make without me will be from the best intentions. He'll be able to keep our family afloat, protected, and feeling loved and that's all I wish for," You continued, hoping to really drive your words into his head and ease his spirit. Alas, you should've known that Zenitsu will always find a way to be pessimistic whenever it came to himself.

"You overestimate me. I could never replace you," He mumbles, "Compared to you, I'm- Ow!" He sucks in a sharp wince through his teeth and his hand comes up to cover the top of his head which was now in pain. You had landed a firm flick to the center top of his head and to say that it hurt like a bitch would be an understatement.

"You underestimate yourself," You retort. Your hands peeling his away so that you could gently comb your fingers through that area of his scalp as if to nonverbally apologize. He accepts the apology quickly and his hands go back to fiddling with each other atop his stomach.

"I just..don't get what you see in me.." He finally confesses, "I'm overjoyed that you were willing to marry me and even have my kids. It's just..I don't see why you'd do that.." And you sigh at him and he sees you shake your head.

"Hopefully you will eventually.." You say as you lean down. Zenitsu eyes fall close involuntarily and after a moment, he feels you brush aside his hair and press your lips to his forehead. Even when you part from him, he could still feel tingles..

As you straighten your position and gaze down at your husband once again, you can't help but chuckle at the sight of him looking up at you with his face sparkling in a strawberry blush and his pupils glowing with his love for you. There's also the silly look of his bangs being pushed away to reveal the big red kiss-shaped stain in the center that really pulls the sight together.

He looked like an idiot in love, which I guess isn't too far from the truth.

"My wish is that one day, you'll be able to look in the mirror and see what I've seen for almost an entire decade; a tough, talented, stunning man with a personality like no one I've ever seen and a heart of gold to boot."

"How are you feeling?" Kanae asked, sitting at your bedside. The question earns a grin from you.

"However one is supposed to feel when they're about to die," You replied and you notice your girlfriend's expression change to one of realization to a more abashed look.

"I'm sorry, that was a pointless question.." She mumbled and your shoulders shook a little from you trying to control your laughter.

"No, no. It's okay, love. You were just trying to make sure I was comfortable," You said before patting the bed, "Now, c'mon. I wanna lay with you one last time."

Her smile drops completely at that. One last time..right. This will be the last time you two will be able to do this..or do anything together. Her teeth grits behind her lips at the thought. She won't be able to spend anymore time with you. No more dates or little walks or tending to the garden together. When you're gone, that'll be the end of all of that..

It's hard to accept, but not accepting it would be immature and that's the last thing she is. And so, although reluctant, she gets up, crawls into bed, and lays by your side. You waste no time in pulling her closer until her chest hits yours and you're able to lean your head into her shoulder.

There's a silence for a while as you simply take the time to breathe in her scent. She always smelled so nice, like the flowers she grows in the garden. It's light, not too potent, but addictively sweet.

"Man, this sucks," You murmur, "Dying just before the big battle.. How unlucky is that?" She seriously couldn't believe you and she couldn't help but show it on her face for a moment. You were about to die and what you're upset about..is not being able to fight against Kibutsuji? It leaves a bad taste in her mouth knowing that in the end, you're thinking of someone like him instead of..

No. Perish the thought, Kanae. Thoughts like that are selfish and infantile. As a demon slayer, you of all people should understand that feeling of discontentment.

"Forgive me for saying this, but I'm actually glad that you'll have to opt out of this fight," She says and you hum as your interest is peaked, "And why is that? Because you don't want me to get hurt?" You ask and she nods against you.

"Of course," She says and you huff at how dumb your question was. You then mumble out, "Right.."

Silence envelopes the room once again like an awkward hug. Neither of you knew what to say. There were things you could say, but since you were both trying to avoid sobbing into each others' arms for the rest of the night, neither of you said them aloud. On the other hand, trying to force this half-assed casual conversation doesn't feel the best..

And so, you let out a shaky breath in an attempt to quell your nerves as you whisper to her, "I'm scared, Kanae.. I don't want to die.."

And her grip around you tightens as she whispers back, "I'm scared too. But, it's okay if we're both scared because that means we can comfort each other for the rest of the night,"

You can feel her hands trembling on your thigh and you crane your neck so that you can get a full glance at her smile which poorly covered her nervous expression in the darkness. Seeing it kind of felt like a breath of fresh air..

"I'd like that.." You said in the end, "I'd like that a lot.."

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

492 notes · View notes