Imagines || shows and movies characters x reader

A ghost of choices || Edgar [Smoking: The Choice is Yours]

The story begins in a small, dimly lit apartment. The walls are stained with years of smoke, and the air is heavy with the lingering scent of tobacco. The only source of light is the faint glow from a flickering television screen. Y/n sits on a worn-out couch, a cigarette dangling from their fingers, staring blankly at the TV. The smoke curls upward, dissipating into the shadows.

Y/n takes a deep drag, the familiar burn of nicotine soothing the ache in their chest. It's been a rough day—a rough life, really. Smoking is the one thing that keeps the memories at bay, the one thing that dulls the pain inflicted by an abusive father who left deep scars, both physical and emotional.

The TV crackles, and the image on the screen begins to distort. Y/n squints, trying to make out the figure that's slowly coming into focus. It's not the usual late-night infomercial or rerun. Instead, a figure emerges—a thin, skeletal man with hollow eyes, dressed in a tattered suit. His appearance is unsettling, his presence almost ghostly. Y/n's heart skips a beat.

"Hello, Y/n," the figure says, his voice raspy and dry, like leaves crumbling underfoot. "My name is Edgar."

Y/n freezes, the cigarette halfway to their lips. "Who... who are you? How the hell do you know my name?"

Edgar takes a step closer, though his movement seems more like a glide, as if he's not entirely bound by the laws of the physical world. "I know a lot about you, Y/n. I've been where you are—trapped in the haze of smoke, using it as a crutch to forget, to numb the pain. But I'm here to help you make a different choice."

Y/n's grip tightens around the cigarette, a flicker of defiance in their eyes. "What do you know about my life? About what I've been through? Smoking is the only thing that helps."

Edgar's gaze softens, and for a moment, a hint of sadness crosses his skeletal features. "I know more than you think. I used to be just like you, turning to cigarettes to escape the horrors of my past. My father... he was a monster, and smoking was the only thing that kept me from losing my mind. But it also slowly killed me. I didn't realize it until it was too late."

Y/n exhales a cloud of smoke, their hands trembling slightly. "Why should I care? It's my life, my choice."

Edgar nods, acknowledging the truth in Y/n's words. "You're right. It is your choice. But I'm here to show you that there's another way. I managed to quit, to take back control of my life. And you can too, before it's too late—before you end up like me."

Y/n stares at Edgar, the initial fear giving way to curiosity. "How did you do it? How did you quit when everything felt so hopeless?"

Edgar steps closer, and the air around them grows colder. "I realized that smoking wasn't fixing anything. It wasn't healing my wounds; it was just hiding them. I found the strength to face my past, to confront the pain rather than drown it in smoke. It wasn't easy, and it took time, but eventually, I broke free."

Y/n looks down at the cigarette in their hand, the embers glowing softly. "But the memories... the pain... how do you deal with it?"

Edgar's expression becomes one of quiet determination. "You find new ways to cope. You talk to someone who understands, who can help you work through the pain. You replace the cigarette with something healthier—a hobby, exercise, anything that doesn't destroy you from the inside out. You have to be willing to fight, Y/n, because your life is worth more than this."

Y/n hesitates, the weight of Edgar's words sinking in. They glance at the pack of cigarettes on the coffee table, then back at Edgar. "But what if I can't do it? What if it's too late for me?"

Edgar's voice is firm but gentle. "It's never too late, Y/n. As long as you're alive, there's always a chance to change, to choose a different path. I'm here to help you see that, to help you take the first step."

Y/n's fingers hover over the cigarette, the temptation still strong. But Edgar's presence, his words, begin to chip away at the walls Y/n has built around themselves. With a deep breath, Y/n crushes the cigarette into the ashtray, extinguishing the flame.

Edgar nods approvingly, a faint smile appearing on his gaunt face. "That's the first step, Y/n. It's not going to be easy, but you've made a choice—a choice to live, to fight. And I'll be with you, every step of the way."

Y/n feels a strange sense of relief, like a weight has been lifted from their shoulders. "Thank you, Edgar. I don't know if I can do this alone."

"You won't be alone," Edgar reassures, his form slowly beginning to fade. "Remember, the choice is yours. And you've already made the right one."

As Edgar's figure disappears into the shadows, the room grows warmer, the oppressive atmosphere lifting. Y/n sits back on the couch, staring at the now-empty ashtray. The urge to smoke still lingers, but it's not as overwhelming as before. Edgar's words echo in their mind—a reminder that they have the power to change, to break free from the cycle.

The story ends with Y/n rising from the couch, taking the first steps toward a new beginning, away from the shadows of their past and toward a future where they can finally breathe freely.