As Y/N diligently drags his bed across the length of the hallway, the soft scrape of wood against tile echoing in the empty corridor, he is suddenly interrupted by the appearance of Charlie around the corner. Caught off guard by Y/N's peculiar endeavor, Charlie's curiosity gets the best of her.
Charlie: "Um, Y/N, what exactly are you doing with your bed?"
Y/N, pausing in his task, turns to face Charlie with a sheepish grin.
Y/N: "Oh, Spider invited me to a sleepover tonight in his room. It's my first time attending one, but judging by the name, I figured I'd better bring my own bed along for a comfortable night's sleep."
Charlie's eyes widen with excitement, her enthusiasm practically palpable.
Charlie: "Firstly, that's adorable! Secondly, why didn't Angel mention anything to me about it?"
Y/N shrugs nonchalantly, a playful glint in his eye.
Y/N: "Who knows? But hey, would you like to join us?"
Charlie's reaction is immediate, her excitement bubbling over.
Charlie: "You mean it?!"
Y/N nods with a grin, extending the invitation warmly.
Y/N: "Of course! I'm sure Spider wouldn't mind at all."
Unable to contain her joy, Charlie throws her arms around Y/N in a tight hug, her gratitude evident.
Charlie: "Oh, thank you, thank you! This is going to be so much fun! I can't wait! What should I wear? What should I bring? Ah!"
With that, Charlie dashes down the hallway, her elation evident in every step. However, her jubilant haste leads to a minor mishap as she trips and falls, though she quickly recovers and disappears around the corner before Y/N can react. Left in bemusement, Y/N watches her departure with a quizzical expression.
Y/N: "Why is she so thrilled about just sleeping over?"
As the night progresses, Angel Dust lounges comfortably in his bed, idly stroking the fluffy form of Fat Nuggets nestled beside him, his mind filled with mischievous thoughts.
Angel Dust: "I'm telling you, Nuggie, this is the perfect plan to work my charm on Y/N. Just one night with me, and he'll be putty in my hands. Hehehe!"
A sudden knock at the door interrupts Angel's plotting, and he springs to his feet with eager anticipation, expecting Y/N's arrival.
Angel Dust: "Hey there, hot stuff! About time you showed up. You should—"
Angel's words trail off as he registers the sight before him: Y/N standing awkwardly in the doorway, his entire bed frame awkwardly propped up behind him.
Angel Dust: "Um, what's with the bed?"
Y/N, struggling to maneuver his cumbersome bed into Angel's room, offers an apologetic smile.
Y/N: "It's my bed. Took me a bit to wrangle it out of my room, so this might take a minute."
Fifteen minutes of awkward maneuvering later, Y/N finally manages to squeeze his bed into Angel's room with a triumphant grin.
Y/N: "There we go! Alright then, time to settle in for the night."
Angel Dust, taken aback by the early bedtime, protests.
Angel Dust: "But it's still early!"
Y/N, puzzled, responds with genuine confusion.
Y/N: "Isn't that what we're supposed to do at a sleepover? Sleep?"
Angel Dust, shaking his head, suggests an alternative.
Angel Dust: "But that's for later! Right now, let's have some fun!"
Y/N, intrigued by the prospect, inquires further.
Y/N: "What do you suggest we do for fun?"
With a mischievous glint in his eye, Angel Dust proposes a classic party game.
Angel Dust: "I have an idea. How about we play Seven Minutes in Heaven?"
Y/N, unfamiliar with the game, expresses his ignorance.
Y/N: "Seven Minutes in Heaven? I've never heard of that back where I come from."
Angel Dust, leaning in close and whispering suggestively into Y/N's ear, assures him with a sly grin.
Angel Dust: "Don't worry. I'll make sure it's an experience you won't forget. I'll be gentle."
A loud, intrusive knock resonates through the room, startling Angel Dust from his contemplation. He strides over to the door, a mix of surprise and irritation etched across his features, swinging it open to reveal Charlie, adorned in a red demon bunny hooded onesie pajama with furry paws, her face beaming with excitement as she juggles an array of items in her arms.
Angel Dust: "What the hell do you want?"
Charlie, undeterred by Angel's less-than-welcoming demeanor, breezes past him with a cheerful greeting.
Charlie: "We're here for the sleepover!"
Angel stands in the doorway, bewildered and annoyed, as Charlie makes herself at home.
Angel Dust: "What?!"
Y/N interjects, attempting to diffuse the situation with a casual explanation.
Y/N: "Oh, yeah, I invited her. Hope you don't mind."
Angel Dust's confusion only deepens as he processes this new development.
Angel Dust: "Of course I mind! Wait, what did you mean by 'we'?"
Before he can receive a satisfactory answer, Vaggie strides in, donning an oversized black hoodie and sweatpants, adding to Angel's growing sense of incredulity.
Angel Dust: "Wait, hold on!"
Following Vaggie, Husk and Niffty make their entrance, Husk in a plain white shirt and flannel pajama bottoms, while Niffty wears a quaint nightgown, their presence overwhelming Angel Dust's attempts to maintain order.
Angel Dust: "Stop!"
Finally, Sir Pentious slithers in, donning his nightcap hat pajamas, accompanied by his four Egg Boys, all clad in their own pajama attire. Angel resigns himself to the inevitable chaos, his protests falling on deaf ears.
Angel Dust: "I give up..."
But as he moves to close the door, he is halted by the unexpected appearance of Alastor, dressed in old-timey pajamas, his grin unnerving.
Angel Dust: "You too?"
Alastor responds with a sinister chuckle, slipping past Angel and into the fray.
Alastor: "Well, of course, my dear effeminate fellow! I wouldn't miss this for the world! Haha!"
With a resigned sigh, Angel finally shuts the door, accepting the inevitable pandemonium that awaits within. Angel Dust, resigned to the unexpected turn of events, muses with a tinge of disappointment.
Angel Dust: "Guess there goes my plan..."
Charlie, sensing Angel's disappointment, offers an apologetic explanation.
Charlie: "Sorry, Angel. I just got so excited that I ended up telling everyone."
Angel Dust, ever the gracious host, reassures Charlie with a forced smile.
Angel Dust: "It's okay, Charlie. I'm fine."
Charlie redirects the conversation, turning her attention to Y/N with a curious inquiry.
Charlie: "By the way, Y/N, where are your pajamas?"
Y/N, caught off guard, admits with a shrug.
Y/N: "Oh, I don't have any. I was just planning on sleeping in my underwear."
Angel Dust, feigning dramatic distress, collapses to the ground, clutching his groin in mock agony.
Angel Dust: "Ah! Life is so cruel..."
Vaggie, unimpressed by the theatrics, interjects with a practical suggestion.
Vaggie: "Don't you have any other clothes?"
Y/N, with a hint of embarrassment, confesses his lack of variety.
Y/N: "I don't. This suit is all I have."
Vaggie grimaces at the revelation.
Vaggie: "You wear the same thing every day? That's gross."
A tense moment passes as Y/N and Vaggie exchange a silent standoff, their expressions hardened. Charlie, eager to diffuse the tension, interjects with newfound enthusiasm.
Charlie: "I just had an amazing idea! How about we go shopping tomorrow and get you some clothes?"
Angel Dust perks up at the mention of shopping, his interest suddenly piqued.
Angel Dust: "Shopping, you say?"
Husk, ever the party enthusiast, interrupts with his own agenda.
Husk: "Enough talking! When do we get to the drinking?"
Vaggie, exasperated by Husk's antics, admonishes him.
Vaggie: "Are you drunk already, Husk?"
Husk, unapologetic, admits with a smirk.
Husk: "Of course I am. I pregamed before coming here."
Charlie, trying to steer the conversation back on track, reminds Husk of the nature of the gathering.
Charlie: "Um, Husk, this isn't a party. It's a sleepover."
Husk, unfazed, gestures towards a box filled with alcohol.
Husk: "So, what do I do with all of this then?"
Y/N, seizing the opportunity, chimes in with a mischievous grin.
Y/N: "I'll take some."
Charlie and Vaggie, united in their disapproval, protest in unison.
Charlie and Vaggie: "Y/N!"
Vaggie, firm in her resolve, reiterates her stance.
Vaggie: "We told you no more drinking."
Y/N, undeterred, counters with a defiant stance.
Y/N: "That ain't happening, Half-pint."
Vaggie, incensed by the nickname, bristles with anger.
Vaggie: "The hell did you just call me?!"
Charlie, sensing the escalating tension, intervenes with a diplomatic suggestion.
Charlie: "Alright, how about we all calm down and do some fun activities instead?"
As Niffty enthusiastically proposes her idea, her excitement contagious.
Niffty: "Oh, I have a fun activity! How about a puppet show?"
Charlie eagerly agrees, her eyes lighting up with anticipation.
Charlie: "That sounds wonderful! Let's do that."
Niffty dashes off to retrieve her puppets, leaving the group to settle into their seats in anticipation.
Y/N expresses genuine curiosity about the upcoming performance.
Y/N: "This should be exciting. I've never seen a puppet show before."
Charlie reassures him with fond memories from her past.
Charlie: "They're amazing! I used to watch them when I was younger. Trust me, you're going to love it."
Niffty returns, puppets in hand, and begins her performance with a cheerful flourish. Two roaches, sporting tiny top hats, come to life in her skilled hands.
Roach 1: "Mr. Roach?"
Roach 2: "Yes, Mrs. Roach?"
Roach 1: "Where do bugs go when they die?"
Roach 2: "Well, I don't know, Mrs. Roach. Let's find out!"
However, the innocent tone takes a dark turn as Niffty unexpectedly introduces a knife into the scene, the roaches suddenly subjected to a brutal demise, their cries of agony echoing through the room.
Roach 1: "Tell my story!"
Once the grim spectacle concludes, Niffty looks up, her demeanor suddenly solemn.
Niffty: "Sometimes puppet shows are sad."
The group watches on in a mixture of horror and bewilderment, stunned into silence. Alastor, however, breaks the tension with a solitary clap, his eerie smile unwavering.
Y/N, attempting to shift the mood, offers a diplomatic comment.
Y/N: "So, this is a puppet show... not bad."
Charlie, eager to move past the unsettling display, suggests a change of pace.
Charlie: "Okay, let's try to forget that. How about we play some games? I brought some fun ones, like this card game called DOS!"
As everyone gathers in a circle, anticipation fills the air as Husk begins dealing out the cards. Charlie, her hands trembling with nerves, clutches her cards tightly.
Charlie: "I sure can't wait to play DOS."
Husk, ever the instigator, nudges Charlie to take the lead.
Husk: "Alright, wise guy, you start."
Charlie's nervousness peaks, her voice faltering.
Charlie: "Yes."
Husk, puzzled by her response, prompts her further.
Husk: "What?"
Charlie, trying to save face, blurts out in desperation.
Charlie: "Go fish!"
Husk's confusion deepens as he realizes Charlie's misunderstanding.
Husk: " You brought the game, don't you not know how to play DOS?"
Charlie, caught in her own blunder, attempts to deflect.
Charlie: "Do you?"
A slightly inebriated Husk begins to second-guess himself, his confidence waning.
Husk: "Yes! You... go fish."
Angel Dust, observing the exchange with amusement, interjects with a teasing tone.
Angel Dust: "Do you actually know how to play?"
Husk, now fully flustered, lashes out in a drunken outburst.
Husk: "Shut up, Y/N! You don't know me!"
Y/N, taken aback by the sudden aggression, raises a hand in protest.
Y/N: "What? I didn't say anything!"
Angel Dust, attempting to regain control of the situation, poses a question to the group.
Angel Dust: "Okay, does anyone here not know how to play?"
Meanwhile, Sir Pentious rolls a set of dice across the table, adding to the chaos.
Sir Pentious: "Six!"
Vaggie, exasperated by the sudden appearance of dice, demands an explanation.
Vaggie: "Where did you get dice?"
As confusion reigns over the card game debacle, Niffty, always eager to contribute, interjects with her own suggestion.
Niffty: "I know how to play!"
To the surprise of everyone, she produces a gun and places it on the table, a single bullet loaded inside.
Niffty: "You put the gun on the table and then you spin it around."
Vaggie, alarmed by Niffty's actions, quickly identifies the game.
Vaggie: "That's Russian roulette!"
Niffty, undeterred by Vaggie's observation, explains her version of the game.
Niffty: "You hold it up to your head and then you pull the trigger."
Husk, equally bewildered, objects to Niffty's interpretation.
Husk: "That's definitely Russian roulette."
Attempting to demonstrate, Niffty reaches for the gun, but Y/N intervenes, swiftly taking the weapon from her grasp.
Y/N: "Okay, does anyone actually know how to play?"
A collective shake of heads confirms the group's lack of knowledge.
Alastor, ever the enigmatic presence, offers an alternative suggestion.
Alastor: "I thought we were playing UNO, as the kids say?"
With the confusion mounting and various game ideas floating around, the group finds themselves at a loss for a coherent plan of action. Two hours later after finally learning the rules the group finally played DOS which didn't end well. Angel Dust, growing increasingly frustrated, frantically grabs cards from the deck as the others burst into laughter.
Angel Dust: "What is this game?!"
Demanding a specific color, Angel finds himself inundated with cards, much to the amusement of his companions.
Angel Dust: "Are you serious? Give me a green card!"
Y/N, seizing the opportunity for a playful jab, teases Vaggie.
Y/N: "That should be your line, huh, Fun Size?"
Vaggie: "Oh, you motherfucker!"
Angel's struggle continues, his hands overflowing with cards as he tries in vain to find a green one. The group erupts into laughter as Angel finally manages to play a green card, only to have his hopes dashed by Alastor's strategic move by playing a reverse card.
Angel Dust: "I don't have a green card, you motherfucker! I hate this game! Aaaah!"
In a fit of frustration, Angel flips the table, eliciting even more laughter from the group.
Charlie, attempting to redirect the chaos, suggests a new activity.
Charlie: "What do we play now?"
Vaggie, still recovering from the hilarity of the DOS game, decides it's time to call it quits.
Vaggie: "I think that's enough games for tonight."
Charlie, undeterred, offers an alternative.
Charlie: "How about we watch a movie?"
As Angel's rage subsides in the background, he perks up at the suggestion.
Angel Dust: "Movie, you say? I have just the ones."
With a mischievous grin, Angel retrieves some dubious-looking movies from beneath his bed and hands them to Vaggie. Vaggie vehemently objects to Angel's choice of movies, Angel appears genuinely puzzled.
Vaggie: "We are not watching this smut!"
Angel Dust: "What do you mean?"
Vaggie, exasperated, lists off the titles.
Vaggie: "Womb Raider, The Devil Wears Nada, and Lord of the G Strings~The Fellowship of the String! These are all porn films!"
Angel Dust shrugs nonchalantly.
Angel Dust: "Well, that's all I have."
Vaggie remains firm in her refusal.
Vaggie: "We are not going to watch porn!"
Alastor, ever the opportunist, steps in with a proposition.
Alastor: "If I may interject, I brought a film I think we can all enjoy."
His unexpected contribution surprises Vaggie.
Vaggie: "You brought a movie?"
Alastor, with a sly grin, explains his gesture.
Alastor: "Well, I thought since it was such a special night, I'd make an exception just this once."
He hands Vaggie a movie with an intriguing title.
Vaggie: "Death's Deliverance: The Reaper's Tale. Huh, I've never heard of it?"
Alastor reassures her with confidence.
Alastor: "Trust me, dear. I have a feeling everyone will love it."
His gaze then shifts to Charlie, his smile taking on a sinister edge. Meanwhile, Husk and Y/N settle onto the couch, Angel and Alastor perch on the bed, and Sir Pentious, along with his Egg Boys and Niffty, make themselves comfortable on the floor. Vaggie starts the movie and takes a seat on the couch, while Charlie begins to distribute snacks. As Charlie unveils her selection of snacks, the group eyes the assortment with a mix of curiosity and apprehension.
Charlie: "Okay, everybody, I brought some snacks. I hope you enjoy. I've got Inferno Licorice Twists, Hellfire Hard Candies, Inferno Nibbles, and Diabolic Delights."
Alastor's eyes light up at the mention of his favorite treat.
Alastor: "Oh, Diabolic Delights, my favorite."
Y/N, surprised by Alastor's sweet tooth, teases him with a playful jab.
Y/N: "Didn't take you for the type to like candy, Radiohead."
Alastor, unfazed by the comment, responds with a cryptic smile.
Alastor: "There's a lot about me you don't know, Y/N."
His enigmatic demeanor leaves Y/N pondering as Charlie settles onto the couch between him and Vaggie, making herself comfortable. Charlie's eyes sparkled with excitement as she presented Y/N with the popcorn, her voice tinged with enthusiasm.
Charlie: "By the way, Y/N, I brought you something special. I got this popcorn straight from the Gluttony Ring, it's called Lucifer's Temptation Corn. They say it's so good it'll make you sin, Ha ha."
She extended the large popcorn bucket towards him, her grin widening in anticipation of his reaction. However, Y/N's response was far from what she expected. He simply grabbed the bucket with a blank expression and muttered a subdued thanks.
Y/N: "Thanks, I guess."
The disappointment that flickered across Charlie's features was palpable, her excitement deflated by the lackluster response. She had hoped for a more enthusiastic reaction, but Y/N's indifferent demeanor left her feeling disheartened. As the movie unfolds, its scenes depicting the Reaper's brutal rampage through the fiery depths of Hell, tearing demons asunder with frightening ferocity, Charlie leans in towards Y/N with a mischievous glint in her eye.
Charlie: "I had no idea it was going to be this intense. Good thing I came prepared with SinisterSnuggles."
With a playful wink, Charlie unzips her onesie, revealing a hidden compartment from which she produces an old eerie-looking demon teddy bear. She affectionately shakes it in front of Y/N's face. It's button eyes seemingly watching the horrors on screen with silent fascination.
Charlie: "Our little secret, okay?"
She presses a finger to her lips, her expression both conspiratorial and endearing.
Y/N: "Alright." (Who would I even tell?)
Yet, despite Charlie's attempt to lighten the mood, Y/N's response remains tepid, his attention seemingly lost in the unfolding chaos of the film. Disappointed but undeterred, Charlie settles back into her seat, determined to find solace in the eerie atmosphere of the movie.
As the movie delves deeper into the harrowing tale of the Reaper, each scene dripping with blood, gore, and the chilling laughter of the deranged entity, Y/N finds himself momentarily lost in memories of past encounters. However, his nostalgic smile fades as he notices the reactions of those around him.
Sir Pentious, usually one to revel in chaos, covers his and the Egg Boys' eyes, a rare display of discomfort. Vaggie, known for her resilience, looks away, visibly struggling to contain her nausea. Even Niffty, typically unflappable, appears uneasy.
Turning his attention to Charlie, Y/N is struck by her trembling form, clutching his arm tightly as she uses her teddy bear to shield her eyes from the terrifying scenes unfolding on the screen. Seeing Charlie, usually full of cheer and bravado, cowering in fear, sends a jolt of concern through him.
Y/N's eyes widen in realization as he notices the parallel between Charlie's fear and the Reaper's malevolent presence on screen. Y/N's eyes fixate on the screen, and for a brief, haunting moment, he sees his own reflection morphing into a distorted image resembling the Reaper - not just any Reaper, but his former self, a version of him he thought he'd left behind.
Meanwhile, Alastor observes the unfolding drama with sinister satisfaction, barely able to contain his amusement. Sensing the discomfort and fear permeating the room, Y/N rises from his seat and strides over to the TV, decisively switching it off.
Y/N: "It's getting quite late. We should probably head to bed."
Vaggie's agreement signals a collective acknowledgment of the unsettling atmosphere the movie had brought.
Vaggie: "Guess you're right.
Charlie, wiping away tears, agrees, her voice trembling with residual fear.
Charlie: "That movie wasn't so scary."
Y/N, offering comfort, approaches Charlie and gently pats her on the head.
Y/N: "I actually found it quite scary."
Vaggie: "By the way, where are Husk and Angel?"
A sudden loud noise interrupts the conversation, drawing everyone's attention to the closet. With a mixture of curiosity and concern, they gather around the closet door. Y/N takes the initiative and opens it, revealing a surprising scene: a drunken Husk and Angel locked in a passionate embrace.
Y/N's exclamation captures the shock of the moment, echoed by Charlie's colorful expression.
Y/N: "Oh my God!"
Charlie: "Oh my Lucifer!"
Alastor: "HA!"
Vaggie, quick-thinking, seizes the moment and snaps a picture with her phone.
Vaggie: "This is definitely going to come in handy one day."
Sir Pentious, bewildered by the scene before him, demands an explanation.
Sir Pentious: "What are you doing!?"
Angel, undeterred, responds with a smirk.
Angel Dust: "We are playing Seven Minutes in Heaven."
Y/N: "Oh, so this is what that is? This is nothing like heaven."
As everyone settles into their sleeping arrangements, the atmosphere in the room is filled with a strange mix of exhaustion and anticipation. Sir Pentious and his Egg Boys nestle on the ground, with Niffty curled up among them like a contented kitten. Angel claims his own bed, while Husk, in a state of blackout drunkenness, finds an unintentionally cozy spot in Angel's closet.
Charlie and Vaggie opt for Y/N's bed, leaving him to make do with a spot on the floor. Meanwhile, Alastor, ever the enigmatic figure, eschews conventional sleeping arrangements altogether. He sets up his sleeping bag against the wall, standing upright, as if defying the very concept of rest.
As the room falls silent with the onset of sleep, Y/N finds himself staring up at the ceiling, his mind buzzing with thoughts and memories. He acknowledges the rare opportunity to finally succumb to exhaustion after days of restless nights.
Y/N: "I guess I'm finally tired for once. It should feel nice to finally sleep."
With a sense of relief washing over him, Y/N closes his eyes, ready to embrace the tranquility of sleep. But as his consciousness drifts away, he suddenly finds himself jolted awake, his surroundings transformed into something nightmarish.
Y/N's eyes snap open to find himself lying on an ocean of blood, the crimson waves undulating beneath him. Above stretches an abyss of darkness, swallowing everything in its path. Disoriented and alarmed, Y/N struggles to comprehend his surroundings, his voice barely a whisper as he utters a few bewildered words.
Y/N: "Where am I?"
As Y/N drifts in the unsettling ocean of blood, a single enigmatic voice breaks through the eerie silence with a calming yet cryptic tone.
???: "Home."
Y/N, bewildered by the unexpected response, can only manage a confused murmur.
Y/N: "Home?"
Feeling disoriented by the surreal surroundings, Y/N relinquishes his hold on logic, accepting the strange occurrence without question. The soothing voice soon multiplies, echoing from all directions, each voice carrying its own distinct energy and curiosity.
Voices: "What are you feeling?"
Y/N, caught in the swirling currents of emotion, responds with a heavy heart, his words barely a whisper against the echoing chorus.
Y/N: "Regret."
The voices converge and diverge in a mesmerizing dance, their inquiries probing the depths of Y/N's conscience.
Voices: "What do you regret?"
Y/N's confession hangs in the air, mingling with the ethereal echoes of the surrounding voices, each syllable heavy with the weight of countless missed chances and fractured dreams.
Y/N: "Everything."
The voices, now a cacophony of male, female, and childlike tones, press on, demanding accountability.
Voices: "Well, what are you going to do about it?"
Caught in the whirlwind of existential inquiry, Y/N struggles to find an answer amidst the chaos of his own thoughts.
Y/N: "I-I don't understand."
But the voices, relentless in their pursuit of truth, amplify into a deafening crescendo, demanding clarity and resolution.
Voices: "What are you going to do about it?"
With each repetition, the voices grow louder and more insistent, pushing Y/N to confront his regrets and embrace the possibility of redemption in the swirling abyss of the unknown. As the voices intensify into a deafening cacophony, Y/N's senses reel under the overwhelming onslaught. Each repetition of the question echoes with a relentless urgency, reverberating through the ocean of blood like thunder.
Voices: "WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!??"
Y/N, his head pounding with the sheer force of the voices, struggles to maintain his composure amidst the chaos.
Y/N: "Stop it!"
But his plea is lost amidst the tumultuous chorus, drowned out by the unyielding barrage of inquiry.
Voices: "WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!??"
Y/N's frustration boils over, his voice laced with desperation as he responds to the relentless questioning.
Y/N: "I don't know!"
Yet, his admission falls on deaf ears as the ocean begins to churn, monstrous waves crashing against each other with ferocious intensity. Y/N finds himself trapped, unable to move as the tumultuous waters threaten to engulf him.
With each crashing wave, Y/N is pulled further under, the voices morphing into an incomprehensible roar of sound. Amidst the chaos, faint cries and screams echo in the distance, adding to the eerie ambiance of the surreal nightmare.
Struggling to make sense of his surroundings, Y/N's voice rises above the din in a desperate plea for understanding.
Y/N: "What are you!!"
But his words dissipate into the abyss, swallowed by the relentless chaos of the voices and the swirling ocean of blood, leaving him to grapple with the unsettling uncertainty of his reality. As the cries and screams pierce through the chaotic cacophony, a chilling laughter rises above the turmoil—a laughter unmistakably belonging to the Reaper. Its ominous echoes reverberate through the darkened sky, sending shivers down Y/N's spine.
From the depths of the abyss, giant eyes emerge, their gaze piercing through the darkness with a mix of sorrow and rage. Some eyes are filled with tears, reflecting the pain and anguish of lost souls, while others gleam with fury, harboring the wrath of those wronged.
Caught in the midst of this surreal nightmare, Y/N can only watch in horror as the eyes loom ominously overhead, their presence a haunting reminder of the unseen forces at play in this mysterious realm. With each blink, the eyes seem to convey a message—a message of despair, of vengeance, of a world beyond comprehension.
As the Reaper's laughter echoes through the void, mingling with the cries and screams of the tormented souls, Y/N can't shake the feeling of being watched, of being judged by forces beyond his understanding.
Voices: "WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!?? WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO ABOUT IT!!??"
Y/N: "IM GOING TO CHANGE!!!"
As Y/N's resolute declaration echoes through the emptiness, a profound stillness descends, engulfing him in a serene calmness. The tumultuous ocean and the ominous eyes vanish into nothingness, leaving Y/N suspended in the void of pure darkness. The sound reverberates, filling the void with a sense of purpose and hope. Y/N's resolve strengthens as he speaks again, his voice echoing endlessly into the abyss.
Y/N: "I'm going to get better."
With each affirmation, the darkness seems to recede, replaced by a faint glimmer of light—a beacon of possibility amidst the darkness.
Finally, Y/N opens his eyes, breaking free from the grip of the nightmare. He finds himself back in the familiar confines of reality, the echoes of his declaration still ringing in his ears.
Y/N: "I am going to be better."
With a whisper of resolve, Y/N rises to his feet, surveying the room to find everyone else fast asleep except for Angel, who is restlessly pacing on the balcony. Y/N silently makes his way out of the room, unaware that Alastor has also been stirred from his slumber.
Venturing into the night, Y/N stumbles upon Angel outside phone in hand, his gaze fixed upon the crimson sky, illuminated by the eerie glow of distant stars. Before Y/N can utter a word, Angel senses his presence.
Angel Dust: "Insomnia kicking in, huh?"
Y/N: "Like a relentless demon tapping on my skull."
Their conversation begins against the backdrop of the mesmerizing yet ominous sky, where crimson hues clash with the fleeting brilliance of shooting stars.
Angel Dust: "Funny how even in this infernal landscape, the sky manages to steal the show."
Y/N's gaze is drawn to the heavens as shooting stars streak across the crimson expanse like fiery tears.
Y/N: "I suppose you're right."
Angel Dust: "You know, it's kind of silly, but sometimes I like to look up at the sky and make a wish on a shooting star."
Angel's eyes sparkle with the reflection of the falling stars as he shares his sentiment.
Y/N: "But you realize those aren't stars at all, right? They're just souls descending into Hell."
Angel Dust: "Yeah, I know."
He lowers his gaze, a hint of sadness in his expression, as if the weight of that truth bears down on him.
Y/N: "If you don't mind me asking, what do you wish for when you look up at those falling souls?"
Angel Dust: "You're probably gonna think it's stupid."
Y/N: "Probably, but that doesn't mean I don't want to hear it."
Angel releases a heavy sigh, as if grappling with the weight of his desires.
Angel Dust: "I wish that one day, I could look up at the night sky, see all the stars, and not feel lonely, not feel small... just... just once."
His voice quivers with a raw vulnerability, tears threatening to spill from his crimson eyes as he clutches his phone tightly, the screen casting an eerie glow against his face.
Angel Dust: "I know it's absurd, selfish even, for a sinner like me to harbor such a wish. In this infernal abyss, I deserve nothing but misery."
As he struggles to compose himself, wiping away the tears that betray his turmoil, Angel's resolve wavers.
Angel Dust: "Forgive me... I'm clearly on the brink of some pathetic breakdown."
Y/N's gaze shifts from the star-strewn sky to Angel, a mixture of empathy and contemplation coloring their expression. The weight of Angel's confession hangs heavy in the air, begging for a response.
Y/N: "I-I don't think it's foolish at all to yearn for connection amidst this cosmic chaos. Even sinners have the right to wish. So, hold fast to that wish, nurture it, for within the vast expanse of the universe, there lies the potential for redemption and belonging. Who's to say that one day, your wish won't be granted, and you'll bask in the warmth of acceptance beneath a blanket of stars?"
The tension ebbs, replaced by a fragile hope kindled by Y/N's words, as Angel Dust dares to envision a future where his longing for connection may be realized, even in the heart of Hell.
Y/N: (What am I even saying? I don't buy into any of this cosmic redemption nonsense... But maybe, just maybe, if it brings him a shred of comfort, it's worth the hypocrisy. Yet, why am I bothered about a demon's emotional state in the first place?)
The air crackles with tension as Angel's eyes lock onto Y/N, but it's swiftly shattered by the eruption of his laughter.
Angel Dust: "HAHAHA! That was some corny shit."
Y/N: "Hey, I tried. Can't say I'm a pro at this, I'm no Husk."
Angel Dust: "Nah, don't sweat it. Thanks for attempting to play therapist. And sorry for dumping my issues on you like a truckload of bricks."
Y/N: "It's okay. Sometimes, just letting it out can be helpful."
Angel Dust: "True that. Especially when it's with someone like you. You know, there's something about you..."
Y/N: "What do you mean?"
Angel Dust: "I can't quite put my finger on it... It's like you exude this vibe, this warmth that's strangely comforting. Almost like you're emitting some heavenly aura."
Before Angel can delve deeper into his observation, his phone rudely interrupts with its insistent ringing. His expression morphs from one of levity to a somber mask as he takes the call.
Angel Dust: "Okay, I'll be right over."
He ends the call, a sense of urgency now coursing through his veins.
Angel Dust: "Look, I've got to bounce. Thanks for being my impromptu therapist. We should totally do this again sometime."
With a swift nod, he strides away, leaving Y/N with a whirlwind of emotions and a lingering sense of connection in his wake. Y/N's smile widens as he waves goodbye, a sense of satisfaction washing over him for having been there for Angel in his time of need.
Y/N: "What in all that is holy is happening to me?"
As he watches Angel disappear from view, Y/N can't help but ponder the strange sensation coursing through him. Unbeknownst to them, Alastor, the charming Radio Demon, had eavesdropped on their entire conversation. With a wicked gleam in his eyes, he vanished into thin air and reappeared in his dimly lit room, adorned with vintage decor and old-timey paraphernalia. His fingers danced along the dial of his antique phone as he placed a call.
Alastor: "Well, well, well... if it isn't my dear acquaintance."
???: "What is it, Alastor?"
A distorted voice crackled through the receiver.
Alastor: "I've found your Reaper."
???: "Are you absolutely certain?"
Alastor: "Quite positively so, my dear friend."
???: "Very well. I shall come to collect."
Alastor: "Hold your horses now. There's no need to make a grand entrance and come all the way down here. I assure you, I have the situation well in hand."
???: "Do you, indeed?"
Alastor: "Of course, my dear. You'll have your Reaper locked away and shipped to you in due time."
???: "Very well, Alastor. But remember our deal."
With a click, the line went dead, leaving Alastor with a malevolent grin plastered across his face. With a swift motion, he crushed the antique phone in his grip, the sound of shattering glass echoing through the room.
Alastor: "Ah, the tangled webs we weave... How could I forget the delightful little constraints you've placed upon me?"