Imagines || shows and movies characters x reader

I will find you || Stolas [Helluva Boss]

In the aftermath of an apocalyptic event, Hell had become a wasteland, scorched and desolate, where the once vibrant chaos of demons and sinners had faded into eerie silence. Towers that once stood tall now lay in ruins, streets once crowded with the damned were now empty, and the sky burned with an unnatural, crimson hue. Nothing was left untouched by the devastation. Amid this grim landscape, Y/n moved through the rubble, her heart heavy with worry, grief, and fear. 

She wasn't sure if Stolas was alive. He had been her anchor in the madness of Hell—a complicated, messy love that had grown between them over time. But now, with everything reduced to ash and ruin, the thought of losing him gnawed at her relentlessly. Y/n kept searching, her determination unwavering, though every step into the lifeless wasteland seemed to pull her closer to despair.

Beside her were a group of traveling companions—stragglers she had met along the way, each of them hardened by the apocalypse. They were survivors, like her, but Y/n rarely spoke much about herself. She kept her thoughts focused on Stolas, on finding him, on hoping that he had survived whatever cataclysm had torn Hell apart.

As they walked through the ruins of a once grand infernal palace, one of the companions, a tall, grim demon with glowing eyes, glanced over at Y/n. "You've been awfully quiet, Y/n," he said, his voice rough. "What keeps you going? How come you're not like the rest of us—ready to give up?"

Y/n's gaze remained fixed on the horizon, her jaw clenched. She didn't answer for a moment, but then, as her fingers absentmindedly traced the ink on her forearm, she spoke softly. "It's the memories that keep me going... and the regret."

The demon furrowed his brow. "Regret?"

Y/n nodded, glancing down at the tattoos that decorated her arms, each one more intricate than the last. "Each of these," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, "is a story... a memory of Stolas. And with every one, there's a piece of me that wishes I could go back and change things."

The group continued to move through the desolation, but Y/n's mind was now lost in the past, in the memories of her time with Stolas.

She lifted her sleeve slightly, revealing a dark, elegant tattoo of an owl with outstretched wings, a symbol of Stolas' true form. "This one," she began, her eyes filled with sadness, "is the night we met. I didn't know who he was then—just another demon, like any other. But the way he looked at me... I should've known that night how complicated everything would become. He was a prince of Hell, and I... I was nothing special. I regret not realizing sooner how deep he would fall for me. I wasn't ready for that kind of love, but he gave it all the same."

They continued onward, stepping over fallen debris and broken statues of forgotten demons. Y/n lifted her other arm, revealing a tattoo of delicate stars swirling in an intricate pattern. "This one... this was from the night he showed me the stars," she said, her voice cracking slightly. "He could summon the night sky, you know? Right in his palace, he'd bring the universe to life, just for me. And I... I took it for granted. I thought I'd always have time to appreciate him, to show him how much he meant to me. But now... now I might never get the chance."

Her companions listened in silence, the weight of her memories hanging in the air as they trudged forward. Y/n's eyes scanned the horizon constantly, looking for any sign of Stolas among the ruins, but the landscape offered nothing but silence and shadows.

There was another tattoo, this one darker, etched onto her shoulder—a crown shrouded in thorns. She hesitated before explaining it, the memory more painful than the others. "This one," she said quietly, "is the night we fought. He wanted me to stay with him, to leave everything else behind and live in his palace, to be with him fully. But I... I was scared. I didn't want to lose myself in him. I was afraid that if I gave in to his world, I would lose who I was. So I pushed him away... told him I needed space. The look in his eyes when I left—I've never forgiven myself for that."

Y/n's voice broke as the regret flooded through her, the thought that she might never be able to make things right with Stolas becoming unbearable. She had carried these memories with her, etched into her skin like the ink in her tattoos, and now they felt heavier than ever.

They reached what remained of Stolas' grand palace, its once towering spires now reduced to rubble. Y/n paused, her breath catching in her throat as she stared at the ruins. Was he here? Was he alive, trapped somewhere beneath the destruction?

As they began to sift through the debris, Y/n could feel her heart racing, her hope wavering. Her eyes fell to one last tattoo on her wrist, a small but intricate design of a crescent moon wrapped in vines. "This one," she whispered, "was for the future we never had. The one he promised me, when he told me that someday, everything would make sense, and we'd have our place together, away from all the chaos of Hell."

Her companions said nothing, giving her the space to process the weight of her memories. Y/n knelt down, her fingers trembling as she sifted through the rubble, hoping—praying—that Stolas had somehow survived.

And then, just as she was about to give in to despair, a faint sound echoed from beneath the rubble. A voice, weak but unmistakable.

"Y/n..."

Her heart stopped, and she frantically began pulling away the debris, her hands shaking as she uncovered the familiar form of Stolas, battered but alive. He looked up at her, his eyes filled with the same love and regret she had carried with her all this time.

"Stolas," Y/n whispered, tears streaming down her face. "I thought... I thought I lost you."

He smiled weakly, his hand reaching out to touch hers. "You never did. I've been waiting... knowing you'd find me."

As Y/n helped him to his feet, the desolate wasteland of Hell seemed to fade away, if only for a moment. The regret still lingered, but now, there was a chance for redemption—for both of them.

Together, they would face whatever came next.