๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐๐ซ๐ฒ: Accused of being a witch, you are drowned, only to be sent to Heaven after death. Now you have to come to terms with being called evil all your life, but being in the good place after it. Although that doesnโt stop you from quite literally falling for a cute angel.
๐ญ๐๐ ๐ฌ: religious guilt; mentions of the witch trials; overcoming trauma; Abel and reader healing together; strangers to friends to lovers; mutual pining; happy ending; eventual smut; religious imagery & symbolism.
๐ฐ๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ: 1,2k.
๐๐๐๐ ๐๐๐๐๐๐๐ ยป
๐hen you open your eyes, it is almost like waking up from a nightmare into a dream. Your surroundings are a pastel void, glowing with the resplendence of a sunset, and the only physical manifestation present here is a marble staircase leading high into the clouds. The starting step is kissing the toes of your shoes, reflecting their black tips as well as the colour scheme of the surrounding space.
You look up again when you hear the faint echo of footsteps, prompting you to take a step back from a slab of reflective marble. At first, you wait for someone to appear, but the sound only grows further away, leaving you no choice but to chase it.
Taking each step with insatiable curiosity, you can't help but notice that as you breathe through your nose, instead of a soft whistle, you gurgle the way boiling water does. Your lungs feel full, heavy like every step you take upwards.
At some point in your ascent, you stop and listen for the footsteps, but it is quiet apart from the wet rattle inside your ribcage. When you look behind you, the steps you already took are swallowed by the pillowy clouds. You don't have the urge to go back down, but knowing you have no choice in the matter makes uneasiness pool inside your stomach all the same.
So you continue to climb till the pain in your calves disperses into a dull numbness, making walking indistinguishable from floating, and you reach the end in no time.
The end that turns out to be a new beginning, once a gleaming pair of wrought gold gates comes into view, behind themโthick clusters of sweet clouds swallowing up tall structures that reach towards even higher skies.
"Hello! Welcome to Heaven. Can I get your name, please?" A man stands behind a gilded marble pulpit like a preacher, confidently greeting you with enthusiasm when you step closer to him and the gate he guards. His slender figure is framed by a pair of wings, an iridescent halo casting a warm shine over his blond curls.
The name of the saint, as well as your own, is on the tip of your tongue, yet as you open your mouth, all you can do is sputter out water. Your cheeks light up in embarrassment as you scramble to catch the salty droplets in your cupped palms, bringing your wet hands to press against your lips in a poor attempt to stop it.
"Drowning. Hmโฆ don't fret! You will purge all of the water from your lungs soon enough! In the meantime, is this yours?" Saint Peter grips the top part of a thick tome and presents you with the inside view of it, where your full name is written neatly in cursive.
You nod, swallowing down the water steadily, raising up your throat like bile.
"Mhm, 'kay," the angel's squinted eyes are still trained on the pages as he draws out the vowel, presumably making sure, since you are not able to voice it out for him. You twitch when suddenly he points at you, "A word of advice, don't hold that in. That's what the path behind the gate is forโto rid oneself of all the earthly burdens for an amazing, fresh start in the afterlife. Anyways! Once again, welcome to Heaven, where only the most virtuous reside and where every day is better than the best!"
The gate opens up with a song of harps coming from its vocal hinges, and with a nod from the saint, you step forward. As soon as it closes shut, you lurch forward and retch onto the walkway.
"Gah!" Your voice finally tears out painfully from your throat after being weighed down by the lake water.
You heave, swallowing the air so eagerly as you look at your reflection in the water you just expelled out of your bodyโeyes in your reflection wide and face just as afraid as when the priest and townsfolk were pushing the back of your head closer to the opaque body of water.
"Face your fate, witch! And if you sink, may the Lord Almighty have mercy on your soul!"
Your body shakes as you close your eyes tightly shut, memories of your friends and neighbours screaming at you when all you ever did was help your community.
But fingers digging into your scalp don't hurt as they should, and your throat has soothed itself, even if the taste of algae is still on your tongue.
You are dead.
You are in Heaven.
"Why?"
No one answers to you. No one ever did.
You move on autopilot, lost in your spiralling thoughts. What is the protocol here? What is your purpose? Most importantly, why are you here?
No one ever answered your prayers, but it is not like you prayed too much or went to church. Churchgoers did not want you there.
Then why do you want them to be heard so badly now?
Suddenly, your foot catches against something, causing you to stumble forward. Your stomach drops as your body does, getting ready for impactโ
"Woah! Careful!"
A strong hand takes hold of your upper arm, tugging you almost effortlessly back to your full height. It does not leave your thinly clothed skin once your heels touch ground, either. Only when you slowly raise your chin to tilt your head and look your saviour in the face does he let go. But not before staring at you for a second, definitely too drawn out.
"Oh! Sorry, heh," the blond angel blurts out an apology, his pale cheeks dusting in warm blush when your eyes meet. He clears his throat, "You're okay?"
Yes, you want to say, but stop yourself at the last moment. This was what you asked for, someone to hear you, but is it the right thing to do? Burden someone with your inner turmoil and put a damper on someone else's perfect afterlife?
"You seem busy," important is what you actually mean. The tall hat he wears seems very reminiscent of a cylindrical military one, adorned with a powder pink plume and a sharp-tipped uppercase letter A on the front, where a badge of some kind would otherwise be. Alongside the golden epaulettes weighing the blond man's shoulders, you guess he has a rank up here. And you don't feel like getting into the disfavour of higher-ups on day one of eternity. Although it feels like it is only a matter of time before that happens. "I just got here, and I guess I'm a bitโฆ out of it?"
"You're new?" His soft, slightly nasal voice goes an octave higher as he beams at you, showing off a full, tooth gap-adorned smile. "Please allow me to show you around!"
"It really isn't necessary," you squeeze out a smile, or a pathetic parody of one. "Wouldn't want to waste your timeโ"
"I will make time for you." He quickly says, tenacious as he can barely keep his effervescent personality at bay. "Please, I insist. It's not every day you die."
๐ฌ๐ฎ๐ฆ๐ฆ๐๐ซ๐ฒ: Accused of being a witch, you are drowned, only to be sent to Heaven after death. Now you have to come to terms with being called evil all your life, but being in the good place after it. Although that doesnโt stop you from quite literally falling for a cute angel.
๐ญ๐๐ ๐ฌ: religious guilt; mentions of the witch trials; overcoming trauma; Abel and reader healing together; strangers to friends to lovers; mutual pining; happy ending; eventual smut; religious imagery & symbolism.
๐ฐ๐จ๐ซ๐ ๐๐จ๐ฎ๐ง๐ญ: 1,2k.
๐hen you open your eyes, it is almost like waking up from a nightmare into a dream. Your surroundings are a pastel void, glowing with the resplendence of a sunset, and the only physical manifestation present here is a marble staircase leading high into the clouds. The starting step is kissing the toes of your shoes, reflecting their black tips as well as the colour scheme of the surrounding space.
You look up again when you hear the faint echo of footsteps, prompting you to take a step back from a slab of reflective marble. At first, you wait for someone to appear, but the sound only grows further away, leaving you no choice but to chase it.
Taking each step with insatiable curiosity, you can't help but notice that as you breathe through your nose, instead of a soft whistle, you gurgle the way boiling water does. Your lungs feel full, heavy like every step you take upwards.
At some point in your ascent, you stop and listen for the footsteps, but it is quiet apart from the wet rattle inside your ribcage. When you look behind you, the steps you already took are swallowed by the pillowy clouds. You don't have the urge to go back down, but knowing you have no choice in the matter makes uneasiness pool inside your stomach all the same.
So you continue to climb till the pain in your calves disperses into a dull numbness, making walking indistinguishable from floating, and you reach the end in no time.
The end that turns out to be a new beginning, once a gleaming pair of wrought gold gates comes into view, behind themโthick clusters of sweet clouds swallowing up tall structures that reach towards even higher skies.
"Hello! Welcome to Heaven. Can I get your name, please?" A man stands behind a gilded marble pulpit like a preacher, confidently greeting you with enthusiasm when you step closer to him and the gate he guards. His slender figure is framed by a pair of wings, an iridescent halo casting a warm shine over his blond curls.
The name of the saint, as well as your own, is on the tip of your tongue, yet as you open your mouth, all you can do is sputter out water. Your cheeks light up in embarrassment as you scramble to catch the salty droplets in your cupped palms, bringing your wet hands to press against your lips in a poor attempt to stop it.
"Drowning. Hmโฆ don't fret! You will purge all of the water from your lungs soon enough! In the meantime, is this yours?" Saint Peter grips the top part of a thick tome and presents you with the inside view of it, where your full name is written neatly in cursive.
You nod, swallowing down the water steadily, raising up your throat like bile.
"Mhm, 'kay," the angel's squinted eyes are still trained on the pages as he draws out the vowel, presumably making sure, since you are not able to voice it out for him. You twitch when suddenly he points at you, "A word of advice, don't hold that in. That's what the path behind the gate is forโto rid oneself of all the earthly burdens for an amazing, fresh start in the afterlife. Anyways! Once again, welcome to Heaven, where only the most virtuous reside and where every day is better than the best!"
The gate opens up with a song of harps coming from its vocal hinges, and with a nod from the saint, you step forward. As soon as it closes shut, you lurch forward and retch onto the walkway.
"Gah!" Your voice finally tears out painfully from your throat after being weighed down by the lake water.
You heave, swallowing the air so eagerly as you look at your reflection in the water you just expelled out of your bodyโeyes in your reflection wide and face just as afraid as when the priest and townsfolk were pushing the back of your head closer to the opaque body of water.
"Face your fate, witch! And if you sink, may the Lord Almighty have mercy on your soul!"
Your body shakes as you close your eyes tightly shut, memories of your friends and neighbours screaming at you when all you ever did was help your community.
But fingers digging into your scalp don't hurt as they should, and your throat has soothed itself, even if the taste of algae is still on your tongue.
You are dead.
You are in Heaven.
"Why?"
No one answers to you. No one ever did.
You move on autopilot, lost in your spiralling thoughts. What is the protocol here? What is your purpose? Most importantly, why are you here?
No one ever answered your prayers, but it is not like you prayed too much or went to church. Churchgoers did not want you there.
Then why do you want them to be heard so badly now?
Suddenly, your foot catches against something, causing you to stumble forward. Your stomach drops as your body does, getting ready for impactโ
"Woah! Careful!"
A strong hand takes hold of your upper arm, tugging you almost effortlessly back to your full height. It does not leave your thinly clothed skin once your heels touch ground, either. Only when you slowly raise your chin to tilt your head and look your saviour in the face does he let go. But not before staring at you for a second, definitely too drawn out.
"Oh! Sorry, heh," the blond angel blurts out an apology, his pale cheeks dusting in warm blush when your eyes meet. He clears his throat, "You're okay?"
Yes, you want to say, but stop yourself at the last moment. This was what you asked for, someone to hear you, but is it the right thing to do? Burden someone with your inner turmoil and put a damper on someone else's perfect afterlife?
"You seem busy," important is what you actually mean. The tall hat he wears seems very reminiscent of a cylindrical military one, adorned with a powder pink plume and a sharp-tipped uppercase letter A on the front, where a badge of some kind would otherwise be. Alongside the golden epaulettes weighing the blond man's shoulders, you guess he has a rank up here. And you don't feel like getting into the disfavour of higher-ups on day one of eternity. Although it feels like it is only a matter of time before that happens. "I just got here, and I guess I'm a bitโฆ out of it?"
"You're new?" His soft, slightly nasal voice goes an octave higher as he beams at you, showing off a full, tooth gap-adorned smile. "Please allow me to show you around!"
"It really isn't necessary," you squeeze out a smile, or a pathetic parody of one. "Wouldn't want to waste your timeโ"
"I will make time for you." He quickly says, tenacious as he can barely keep his effervescent personality at bay. "Please, I insist. It's not every day you die."
Does anyone else feel weirdly attracted to Abel after Hear My Hope? I donโt know if itโs his squishable face, him growing a backbone, or itโs just Patrick Stumpโs voice, but I feel a certain way about him.
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