I’m Gonna Add My Story In Here When I Finish Writing It XD

I’m gonna add my story in here when I finish writing it XD

Edit: I finished it. Here it is! :DD

“And stay out!” Death slams the door. You walk away, strangely irritated from the altercation.

“Bitch,” you mumble. “I just wanted to see how he was doing.” As you walk up the stairs, you ponder how many subscribers you’ve gained since your last video.

Yep, you started a YouTube channel; you were one of the very first. You don’t age, so your body stays frozen at the peak of physical health- you’re funny and can relate to people (700 years gives a lot of time to memorise jokes)

And finally, you can’t die. You have one of the largest subscriber counts- bigger than Pewdiepie, even. It’s fun to see how people react to the shenanigans you somehow get into, and the suggestions for videos you could do are always awesome too!

“So guys, you’ve seen me and Death’s relationship. He doesn’t like me, and I don’t want to see him at my doorstep anytime soon (it doesn’t count if I show up on his!) It’s sorta a shame though, I really wanted to meet some of you guys this time..” Somehow, even when dead, your subscribers stay loyal to your videos, even trying to meet you when you prank Death or visit the underworld from time to time. It’s really fun, seeing them scream your name and taunt Death about what he lost oh-so-long ago.

You exit the entrance to the underworld, chuckling all the way. “Haha, did you guys see his face when the therapist showed up?! That was hil~ar~i~ous!”

“And remember guys, it doesn’t matter if you like and subscribe because I don’t need to eat, which means I don’t need to earn money to live~ but like anyway? Subscribe for more? Thank you?”

You finish filming and switch off the camera, sighing with a smile on your face. You love making videos, documenting everything you find about yourself and your immortality, but it gets a little... tiring, when you are literally the most famous person in all time.

Suddenly, you hear a lock on your door.

“What could that be..?” You mutter. You take your time, and pack up your things because it takes two weeks to travel to the underworld and another two back- and that’s not even sleeping, not to mention the various monsters you had to fight to even get a halfway decent coffee. (Nobody mentions Medusa. Or the Sphinx) You’re exhausted, they can wait dammit!

So, 20 minutes later, you amble downstairs. You crack open the door.

“So, what was it you wanted-“ You stop.

It’s Death. He’s on your doorstep.

Holding a bag. You don’t know what’s in it.

“What are you doing here...?” You step back warily. Death shifts, almost.. guiltily?

“I’ve.. I’ve been watching your videos.” You’re confused.

“But you hate me? Every time I enter your house, you shove me out again, why would you watch them now?” You ask.

“I’ve watched them all, even those from the very beginning 368 years ago. Your journey has been so long, and you’re always honest with your subscribers about how you’re feeling,” he replies.

You can’t connect the dots in your ancient, knowledgable brain cells. How does that connect to anything..?

“There were a few videos when you explained your immortality, and the feelings you had about it. I saw how you felt really guilty, but I was just too much of a broken-hearted asshole to care. But it’s been 700 years since you said no. And that’s a lot of time to heal. So, I’m sorry I was such an idiot. Will you forgive me..?”

“Oh Death...” you whispered. You walked forward, stretching your arms around him and leaning up towards his lips...

Only to shove him down onto his knees, and give him the most affectionate (if a little rough) noogie he’d had in a while.

“Of course I forgive you, you cretin! You’ve given me the biggest subscriber count in history! I’m rich! And besides, I only prank friends, and I’ve been pranking you for what, 200 years now?”

Death only laughed, escaping your hold to hug you tightly. “Thank you.” He said, smiling sincerely.

“No problem,” you replied. “Now, fuck off for another 700 years, I don’t want to die yet! But, I’ll come over to yours in two weeks? I’ll bring Minecraft- I live for that game now. It is my new purpose. I’ll just pack up my stuff, then leave in an hour okay?”

“You know there’s a short way, right?”

“What.”

In the 15th century, Death asked you out. You rejected him. Furious and humiliated, he swore to never return for you. Six centuries later, you’re still alive.