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steveshairychest · 1 year

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During high school, Eddie goes through the five stages of grief when he realises he's got a crush on Steve Harrington.

Denial comes first. He ignores his crush. He pretends not to be affected by Steve's smile, Steve's laugh, his sparkly eyes, and stupid perfect hair. When he catches himself staring at Steve across the cafeteria, he tears his eyes away angrily and reminds himself he's being an idiot. He doesn't have a crush on Steve.

Denial shifts into anger when he can't ignore it any longer. He has a crush on Steve fucking Harrington. Eddie scowls at himself in the school bathroom mirror, there's grass in his hair from where Steve and his friends shoved him to the ground 'accidentally' and he's pissed. He's pissed at Steve, at Tommy H and at himself; himself especially. He can't believe he has a crush on the guy who pushes people around with his friends, the guy that sneers down at kids like Eddie and beats people up for the smallest things. He's angry at himself for liking such an absolute dick.

Then he starts bargaining with himself. He lies on the floor of his bedroom, a cigarette in one hand, and the pencil Steve borrowed last week in the other. Things like - 'if only i could kiss him just once, then i'd never think about him again.' 'If I move schools, I won't have to see him.' - spiral around in his head as he tries to think of ways to get over his very inconvenient crush on Steve. Except he's bargaining with himself and he's not even sure if he's capable of getting over Steve. The jock has made himself quite comfortable in Eddie's mind (and heart).

Word that Nancy and Steve are dating reaches Eddie during lunch, and he tries his hardest to mask his disappointment, his jealousy. He wouldn't go as far as to say he is depressed, a little sad maybe. He knew that he had no chance with Steve, but that doesn't make it any easier to ignore the ache in his heart and it was even harder to resist curling up in bed and not moving all weekend. Eddie tells Wayne he's sick and that he needs to skip school on Monday. He isn't ready to see Nancy and Steve's no doubt over the top displays of affection

The acceptance doesn't come for a while. Steve graduates. Eddie doesn't. He's left wandering the school halls asking himself why his crush on Steve didn't leave when the jock graduated. Why is he still looking for Steve across the cafeteria? Why does he try to find Steve in a crowd of people? Why is he so caught up on a guy that he doesn't even see anymore? It doesn't make sense.

And then he sees Steve, really sees Steve.

He wishes they would have met under different circumstances. He can't even find it in himself to be excited to see Steve because he just watched a girl die in his trailer. And he's wanted by the police and said girls crazy boyfriend is hunting him and he's really freaking the fuck out.

Steve Harrington is the last person he expects to see admist all the chaos that is now his life.

But Eddie comes to learn that this Steve is different, softer, kinder. He doesn't call Eddie crazy when he explains what happened in his trailer. Actually, Steve is the one that sounds insane while explaining that there is an 'evil Hawkins with monsters' and that this sort of stuff apparently happens all the time. He struggles to accept that fact.

Eddie's crush on Steve starts to spiral out of control the more time they spend together preparing to fight an evil being Eddie isn't entirely sure exists. He wants to run and hide, but Steve’s smile has a hold on Eddie. The soft way he says Eddie's name and ensures him, "It'll be fine. We've done this a million times." Makes something inside Eddie want to stay by Steve's side. It wants to bump shoulders with Steve and tell him lame jokes to lighten the mood. It wants to ask questions that he never got to ask when they were younger. It just wants Steve, no, he just wants Steve.

Eddie's own impending doom causes him to start not hating the idea of having a crush on Steve.

And when they're saying goodbye and promising each other not to be heroes, all Eddie wants to do is confess. To tell Steve everything before things can go wrong. But the words die on his tongue the second Steve meets his eye. He can't do it. He's not ready to be rejected. "Make him pay." Eddie says instead, his smile wobbling slightly as he watches Steve leave.

The acceptance comes while he lays on the ground, his gaze blurry and his body numb as he watches the bats fall to the ground. Steve did it, he thinks to himself. He wants to laugh because, of course, his last thought would be of Steve, his lifelong crush. He can hear feet slapping the concrete and voices echoing around him but he's already too far gone to call out, to ask for help. There's no helping him. He's accepted that, and he's accepted his crush on Steve.

But now, as Steve runs towards Eddie's lifeless body, we are back at square one. Denial.

#THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A SILLY JOKE POST BUT THEN IT TURNED INTO THIS #im sorry #IM NOT PROOF READINF THIS I AM VERY TIRED #steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #st4 vol2 #steveddie #stranger things s4 #tw character death

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ohtobeleah · 8 months

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Bruises // Jake Seresin

Chapter Eight: [The Platform]

Summary: When Jake wakes up beside you after seeking refuge in your company, he’s forced to face a nightmare he thought would only ever exist in his mind.

Series Warnings: Heavy themes of violence, sexual assault, torture. 18+ content. Minors DNI. Mature themes. Being held in captivity. Hostage style situation. Main character death! Whump, Angst. Conversations that discuss antisocial & antisemitism views.

Word Count: 1.6k

Author Note: THIS SERIES IS CONFRONTING, FICTIONAL, AND DEPICTS IMAGES OF TORTURE. DO NOT READ PAST THIS POINT IF YOU BELIEVE THAT THIS SERIES WILL BE DETRIMENTAL TO YOUR MENTAL STABILITY. CURATE YOUR OWN TIMELINE.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

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Monday - August 14th 2023. Present Day

According to Elisabeth Kubler-Ross, when we are dying or have suffered a catastrophic loss, we all move through five stages of grief. We go into denial because the loss is so unthinkable we can’t imagine it’s true.

We become angry with everyone, angry with survivors, angry with ourselves, then we bargain. We beg, we plead. We offer everything we have. We offer up our souls in exchange for just one more day.

When the bargaining has failed and the anger is too hard to maintain, we fall into depression, despair, until finally we have to accept that we have done everything that we can.

We let go. We let go and move into acceptance. Or not.

Jake didn’t know what the time was when he woke up. He didn’t want to know if it had been two hours or twenty, all he cared about was that he could feel you next to him. He could feel the weight of your bed dip next to him from where you slept soundly, peacefully. Most of it in his warm embrace, some most likely on your side.

Jake rolled over under the sheet that kept his body from being completely exposed—usually he wouldn’t mind. He was a confident man with the women he chose to spend his nights with. Not that he had been spending nights with anyone besides you since before the mission.

Usually he wouldn’t mind, he had a pretty good body. But now that Jake's body was battered and bruised, marked and scared beyond repair, he cared. He cared about the flimsy sheet that kept him semi-covered. He didn’t recognise himself in the mirror anymore, but with you? He felt safe, secure in his new insecurities.

“Hollywood—“ Jake mumbled as he drew you closer. “You awake?” He mumbled into your hair, taking the moment to inhale the sweet smell of your shampoo. Bergamot and notes of vanilla. When you didn’t stir Jake kissed your shoulder. “Y/n? You awake?” Jake tried again but was still met with nothing. “Hollywood?”

There was a sinking feeling in the pit of Jake's stomach he wasn’t a fan of when you didn’t stir, when you didn’t acknowledge him like you normally would. He took a second to realise just how cold you were to the touch. How still you were in his warm embrace.

How there was no rise and fall from the breathing pattern Jake had become so accustomed to these past few weeks, from all the nights you’d spent in each other's arms fighting off each other’s demons. Protecting one another from the darkest corners of the world.

It wasn’t all that uncommon for Jake to wake up for you having an all out attack. Your Asthma was something of an enigma to the doctors and nurses that had taken care of you. Some believed it was all psychological, others believed it was a combination of your deteriorating health and the conditions you were kept in.

Regardless—it scared the hell out of Jake whenever he woke up and you couldn’t breathe. But they were always loud and terrifying attacks. They were never silent.

“Hey, Y/n?” Jake shook you a little to see if you’d react, but when all your body did was fall limp against him? Jake sprung up as fast as he could to find his phone. “No no no no no no—!”

Once upon a time, happily ever after. The stories we tell are all just the stuff of dreams. Fairy tales don’t come true. Reality is much stormier. Much murkier. More scarier.

“Y/n! Stay with me alright.” Jake begged as his hands shook, dialing for an ambulance as he turned back to look at you lying lifeless in your own bed, the safest place on earth. “Please don’t leave me now.” He begged, waiting for the operator to pick up. “Where the fuck is it?” He was looking for your inhaler, the red one with the warning labels on it. It was usually on your bedside table. You kept a blue one in your car and a green one in your bag. You always had one. Yet the one beside your bed was gone?

“Hello, nine one one?” Reality, it’s so much more interesting than living happily ever after. Jake spotted the little red inhaler under your bed, the top was only just visible. Then it hit him. What if it had fallen off last night? When the bed was shaking and you were on top? The only place you deserved to be. In control and facing your fears.

“I need an ambulance!” Jake cried. “I can’t save her.” He sobbed, it was his nightmare, the one that brought him to your front porch in the middle of the night more often than not. The one where you were taken away from him. “Please—please she needs an ambulance!” It rivaled the one where he was forced to hurt you.

Jake gave all the information the operator on the other end of the line needed before he was back by your side. He was careful in his movements as you lifted your limp and lifeless body up off your bed and onto the ground. Kneeling beside you, Jake kept the operator on the phone while he started CPR. This he knew how to do.

“Come on baby, don’t get off the train, stay with me.” It wasn’t the first time Jake had given CPR, but it was the first time he’d given it to someone he loved. “Please stay with me.” It was a rhythm no one wanted to fall into, that lifesaving rhythm while rib’s threatened to crack under the pressure. “Don’t you dare leave me here, not now.” One two three four and so on and so forth, Jake kept pressing the palms of his hands into your chest. “Not ever, you hear me? You don’t get to just leave me here.”

You couldn’t die, not now. How on earth was this how you died? Why did you go through so much trauma, so much pain, so much suffering just to die silently in your sleep in your bed next to the man you wanted nothing more to love till the end of time.

“No no no no, come on baby, come on!” Jake wasn’t about to give up on you. You’d been through too much. “Come on stay with me, just a little longer, yeah?” He wanted you to say okay. That you’d stay just a little while longer. But as Jake's cries for help echoed through your home he knew that you weren’t coming back. “HELP ME! SOMEONE!”

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The dictionary defines grief as keen mental suffering or distress over affliction or loss, sharp sorrow, painful regret. As aviators, you’re taught to learn from and rely on the books, the tests, the science behind it all, the definitions, the definitives.

But in life, strict definitions rarely apply. In life, grief can look like a lot of things that bear little resemblance to sharp sorrow.

Bradley Bradshaw had known Jake Seresin for almost his entire Naval career. The two had been at odds for most of that time, both too proud to admit their own flaws. They had both been the reason behind each other's callsigns, in heated arguments at whatever bar they found themselves in or after training sessions gone wrong.

Hangman was the stuff of every aviator's nightmares. A cautionary tale that told whoever was paired up with Jake Seresin, that they would get left behind. But Jake had proven time and time again that when it really came down to it, when it really mattered, when it was life or death and nothing in between—he wouldn’t leave his wingman behind, or his weapon’s system officer for that matter.

And as Bradley watched Jake crumble into the chest of the doctor who’d just told him you weren’t coming back, he knew that Hangman was dead too. He’d been dead since he was shot down.

“The asthma was new, from our best guess we’d say it was a direct result of the environment you were both held in.” The doctor had explained, he was the one who treated you initially. “She had a lot of build up in her lungs, dirt, dust, it caused an infection we thought we had combat, but it looks as if it came back stronger then the first time and she didn’t say anything to indicate otherwise.” The one who bandaged you up and put you back together enough so that your inner demons couldn’t wreak havoc on the world. “I’m sorry Lieutenant, Hollywood was a good woman.” It meant nothing to Jake—he’d stopped listening after the initial ‘Im sorry’ had come out of Doctor Stevens' mouth. There was nothing else to do but process the fact you’d left him behind.

And it felt like you’d done it on purpose too. Because you would have told him something was wrong if you were sick, but you hadn’t said a word.

“Hangman–” Bradley cooed from where he stood by the door of one of the empty patient rooms Jake had found himself in. He was lost, lost in a world without you. Left behind to navigate through his own trauma. “Why don't I take you home?” For Jake it had been only a few minutes since he was officially told you were dead–the last thing he ever expected to hear after everything you had survived. He thought you were invincible, his wonderwoman of unbreakable strength and determination. But in reality, where happily ever afters didn’t exist, it had been three whole hours. “Jake? I'll take you anywhere you wanna go man, but you can't stay here.”

“I saw her tortured Rooster.” It was the first thing Jake had said since he’d been told that you weren’t coming back to him. “I saw her have her bones broken and her body used against her.” Jake's voice was far too calm for Bradley’s liking, he needed Jake to shout, to be angry, to grieve. “She fought so hard to stay alive.” Ah. There it was, the tone Rooster was looking for as he stood across the empty space, watching as Jake stood to his feet. Hands balls at his sides.

“She did whatever she had to do to stay alive and she did whatever she had to do to keep me alive!” Jake seethed through gritted teeth as he took a few heavy steps towards Rooster. Bradley didn’t dare move. “And believe me Bradshaw I wanted to die, I wanted them to kill me just so I didn’t have to live with the guilt of knowing that everything she went through, everything she felt, everything they did to her was a direct result of my actions!” Jake explained as he blamed himself even more for everything that happened. “She begged me to kill her because she knew what they would do to her and I couldn’t, I was selfish because I didn’t want to live in a world without her and guess what they did!?” Jake growled as he punched the wall beside him, his fist went straight through the drywall. “They did exactly what she knew they would do, one by one, day after day.”

“Jake—“ Bradley tried to intervene but all Jake did was turn around and swipe his arms across the medical cart, throwing everything that had been splayed across the top to the floor in a fit of rage.

“And after everything! After we survived! SHE GOES AND DIES FROM AN ASTHMA ATTACK IN HER SLEEP!? RIGHT THERE IN MY ARMS!?” Rooster knew what it was like to lose a loved one, he’d already lost far too many, but he didn’t know what it was like to lose the love of your life.

“Jake—“ Bradley tried again but it was to no avail. Jake was unraveling at his very thin seams. “They couldn’t have predicted it.”

“IT'S THEIR JOB TO PREDICT IT!” Jake shouted as loud as he could, so loud he was red in the face as tears streamed down his cheeks. “JUST LIKE IT WAS MY JOB TO PREVENT THIS FROM EVER HAPPENING.” He shook his head in disbelief all the while he looked up to whatever god was on deck that day. “Just like it was my job to keep her safe.”

“None of this is your fault.” Bradley tried to reason with the shattered man who stood before him. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened man—it was an asthma attack.”

“I was going after you.” Jake finally admitted what he’d been doing when the pair of you were struck. You knew, you were Jake's first, only and last weapons system officer. You knew what he was doing before he’d even gone ahead and executed his plan. That decision caused your pain, your torment, your death.

“What are you doing man.” Bradley sighed at the words his wingman spoke. He’d never seen Jake so distraught before. “Hollywood wouldn’t want you to be like this.”

“It should have been you—That SAM was yours, Rooster.” Jake hissed through gritted teeth as he stood toe to toe with Bradley. “And because you’re so full of chicken shit, I took the hit for you.” It didn’t take long for Jake to correct what he’d said as he pressed his finger into Roosters chest. “We, took the hit for you and now she’s dead.”

Jake hadn’t yet passed his psych eval, he hadn’t yet returned to work because he still took medication for his heart. He wasn’t sure if he was ever going to, but without you? There was no way in hell he was going back. He couldn’t breathe without you, couldn’t sleep, couldn’t eat. How was he supposed to ever fly again? Without his one and only WSO.

“And now more than anything—“ Jake couldn’t drown out your screams, he couldn’t stop his brain from hearing your gut wrenching shrills of pain. He couldn’t turn it off—the guilt, the fear, the anger. But he was still here, and you were gone. Standing on the platform watching him go by at two hundred miles an hour. Begging him to get off the train and join you.

Because the farm was just perfect, and nothing hurt anymore.

In aviation training, there are a hundred different classes that teach you how to fight off death. But in those hundreds of classes there is not a single one that teaches you how to go on living.

Oh what Jake Seresin would give to get off the train with you.

“I wish I was too.”

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Tags 🏷️ @americaarse @blindedbythelightt @tayl0rhuynh @athenabarnes @imaginecrushes @whyareallnamesgone @mjmaximoffbarnes @amiets2 @mads-weasley @gabbyella @ephemeralninon @xoxabs88xox @pedrohoe04 @starkleila @je-suis-prest-rachel @clancycucumber230 @maisie-rebloging-blog @callsign-barbell @obiwankenobis-lap @some-lovely-day @paperbag333 @callsign-magnolia @jhiddles03 @hardballoonlove @shanimallina87 @seitmai i @abaker74 @missemrose @starset21 @kmc1989 @phoenix1388 @emma8895eb @tsofo26 @itsmytimetoodream

#bruises // jake seresin #Jake Seresin Whump #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin fanfiction #jake hangman seresin #jake hangman x y/n #jake seresin angst #jake seresin top gun

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chosos-mascara · 1 year

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two lines

𝙠𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙤 𝙣𝙖𝙣𝙖𝙢𝙞 𝙭 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆 - after finding out you're pregnant, you contemplate what to do.

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 - pregnancy, mentions of abortion, mentions of death (general jjk stuff), hurt with fluff at the end <3

0.8k words

Two lines.

Two pink lines stare up at you from between trembling fingers, mouth ajar as you stare through teary eyes. It had to be a faulty test, you couldn't be pregnant, not now - but if it were faulty, the other three positive tests on the counter-top would have to be faulty too, and the likelihood of that felt too slim. What were the odds of that? Four boxes, two brands with over 98% accuracy - you were definitely pregnant.

There are five stages of grief. Denial being a feeling of numbness, of not being able to accept the fact that this is reality; anger, a feeling that something is unfair, and the burning fire within you is unable to accept that this has happened to you. Bargaining, depression, acceptance follow suit, the end to the storm within you. Five stages you'd found yourself within after losing fellow sorcerers, students or teachers, and yet, you'd found yourself on that cycle despite creating life; the opposite to grief. Denial had been fizzling out, with enough lines to confirm that you were indeed pregnant, and now, anger had bubbled through you. It felt as if bad things had always happened to you, just as things were looking up within your career, and you'd finally become a respected sorcerer - would this all be ruined, now?

Though, one question had appeared to scream louder than the others, through the haze of confusion, through the endings of denial, that being about the father of the child within you - what would Nanami think?

Maybe, if you could ignore the situation at hand, it would go away. That seemed like an adequate response within this moment, to with these intense emotions at a later date. With the tests in the bathroom bin and wandering downstairs, you blanked the past half-hour from your brain, instead partaking in the previous plans of making breakfast before Nanami would join you on your Saturday afternoon. Facing him while knowing his child was inside you was something you'd deal with when the time comes, for now focusing on the slices of bread in the toaster, the jam and butter laid next to the plate. With the kettle boiled, you were soon seated before the television with toast and tea.

After a quick embrace, he dropped his bag into your room while you set up the bowl of snacks on the coffee table, flickering through the channels on the TV until feeling satisfied. The worry within you had subsided with the distraction of daytime tv, depression subsiding. Maybe, you could just deal with this issue independently, and Nanami wouldn't have to be dragged into fatherhood. The toilet flushing and footsteps from upstairs had signaled his return, and you sank back in the seat with the decision made.

When your partner knocked over the door, adrenaline hit you. Swallowing back the bubbling fear rising within your chest, you opened the door. Nanami greeted you, the blonde head of hair and usual button up paired jacket hanging over his shoulders.

"What's wrong?" The first sentence from his lips, smile faltering and brow furrowing. Of course, you'd expected his perceptiveness to be a challenge, though after nodding and stepping to the side, upturned corners of your mouth, he shrugged the strange aura off, coming inside.

Though, when he'd lingered in the door way, a breath catching within his throat, you'd felt doubt once more. Between his fingers, the white plastic you'd recognized, fear returning.

"You're pregnant?" Your partner was a composed man, so when the words left his lips with a break in his voice, obvious concern written clearly across his features, you'd had a sinking feeling within the pit of your stomach. Mouth dropping open like a deer in headlights, you felt unable to respond, simply staring at him through the midst of panic.

"I-" Stuttering, you couldn't find the words within you to respond. He walked toward the couch, a knee planting on the floor to meet you at head-height. In his shaking hand, the test had looked so much smaller. The fact that a piece of plastic had now caused an uncomfortable hurdle within your life had felt almost comical.

"The cafe around the corner, where we went on our first date." Nanami began, deep voice soothing your ears while cradling you. "In a year's time, the three of us can go. Doesn't that sound nice?" He'd worked his way beneath you, your head on his chest as he spoke the future, this time picturing three instead of two. Maybe, it was going to be okay.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Brow furrowed, he reached a hand and placed it over your thigh. It was warm, palm evidently as clammy as your own had been this morning, an anxious response to the situation at hand.

"I only found out this morning." A deep breath was taken, body so numb you'd been unable to tell who had made the sound. "I don't know what to do-" Tears welling in your eyes once more, but this time, a pair of large hands embraced your cheeks, a kiss planted upon your forehead. "I'm scared." Two words whispered into Nanami's chest, his fingers rubbing into your shoulders.

#nanami x reader #nanami fluff #nanami kento #nanami jjk #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk fic #nanami fic #kento x reader #nanamin x reader #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader

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writingattemptsxx · 6 months

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Demons In Grief

MC is gone, so the demon brothers go through the five stages of grief.

—

Something I posted on my AO3 and wanted to post here, also third day I posted something in a row (forgot is I posted my previous thing early today or yesterday), but this probably won’t as common, this is just to get my blog out there.

—

Tw: Mentions of death

Denial. Anger. Bargaining. Depression. Acceptance. Well known stages that humans go through, but even beings as powerful as the Demon Brothers, Avatars of the Seven Deadly Sins, will still experience them. The most potent time they experienced them was after your death, when you were taken from them, especially after you were taken too soon .

Denial

Lucifer buried himself in his work. He could have sworn you came into his office so many times, but when he looked to the door, you were never there. He just looked back down, trying to continue his work, only for the cycle to repeat later.

Mammon’s brain just tended to skip the information you weren’t there, as if it was just waiting for that information to be proven wrong, for you to just appear. He would just continue acting normal until you came back, even if you never did.

Levi shut himself in his room. He burned through double, maybe more, games and animes than he did before. Even while blasting through so many games and shows, there were some he didn’t touch, couldn’t finish, the ones you were playing/watching together or wanted to play/watch together. He was waiting for you to come back to touch those.

Satan’s mind just went blank. It wouldn’t register anything, much less the fact you’re gone. To an outsider, he looked like an empty shell, stuck in the world of his mind, his mind of nothingness.

Asmo sunk himself into his make up. He practiced new techniques and mastered old. He wouldn’t let a single mistake go. Not a single hair would be out of place. When you came back, his amazing beauty would be shown right next to yours.

Beel started to eat everything that entered into the house, except for a few. He was already known for his gluttony, but if he was eating he wouldn’t have to think. He wouldn’t have to think you weren’t there. The only thing he controlled his gluttony enough to skip over was your favorite foods and stuff you were saving to eat later. You would eat that later when you came back.

Belphie only woke up daily to spend time with you, but now you were only there while he was sleeping, so now it’s almost unheard for even Beel to see him up. All he needed was to see you, hug you, cuddle you, and if he had to sleep to do that, then so be it.

Anger

Lucifer felt angry at everything. You were precious to him, so how DARE the world allow ANYTHING to happen to you. He knew you were destined to leave, but it wasn’t supposed to be this soon. His inner self wanted to destroy anything that allowed it to happen, but he knew that would only make things worse, so he tried to keep it in as much as possible. Even though he tried to hide what he was feeling as much as possible, anyone in his vicinity could notice how much more snappy he became and harsh towards anything that might slightly upset him.

Part of Mammon’s anger went to his greed and the other part became destructive. The world didn’t treat his treasure preciously, so why should he treat the world’s treasures preciously? He tried to get his hands on anything he could possibly want and then some. If anything tried to get in his way, it didn’t come out of the altercation without some hurt to show at the best. He ended up tied from the ceiling many times over.

Levi usually knew better than to fall into gamer’s rage. It made his play worse when he fell into anger, but almost every inconvenience in his game made him so angry he lost three controllers, almost five, if two weren’t fixable. A few brothers tried to redirect him to anime, so he, hopefully, wouldn’t be at risk of breaking something, but even watching something couldn’t distract him from the anger he felt. Anger at what? He didn’t even know anymore.

Satan found even the smallest thing to get angry at. There was always something wrong around him, and with all the anger he had, his demon form was always out. You could pretty easily track Satan because there was always something, or someone, broken in his wake. If something got in his way, he would get it out, one way or another.

Asmo’s anger went towards making sure his appearance was spotless, perfect. NOTHING would even scuff his shoes, he wouldn’t let it. He even started forcing his perfection on his brothers. His brothers should know better than to sully you name with their, according to him, horrific looks.

Beel wanted food. Food. Food. FOOD. His hunger stung more than usual and was never satiated. Not even a ten course meal could take the slightest edge off the hunger. How could others withhold food from him. He was obviously the one who needed it. Give. Him. The. Food. NOW.

Every sound became too loud for Belphie. Every light became too bright. He was trying to sleep. He wanted to sleep. How dare the horrible world try to assert itself in his life. The horrible world that took you away.

Bargaining

Lucifer played every event on his mind in repeat. What if he had done this instead? What if he had done that? Would you still be alive? He is one of the strongest demons, so why couldn’t he keep you with him? Was there something he could have done? Is there something he can do?

Mammon started stealing small things from your room to keep. A pencil here. A small price if jewelry there. He always had something of yours in his pocket. If he had these things form you with him, you wouldn’t be truly gone, right?

Levi started watching some anime’s you two had always talked about wanting to watch, and he started playing games you talked about wanting to play. He still couldn’t bring himself to touch things you were in the middle of, but with the new things, he could start them and then talk to you, your memory, about them.

Satan delved into any possible book with even the slightest relation to how you died. If he had every bit of knowledge, he would know what he could do, what he could have done. ANYTHING he could have done to have kept you here.

Asmo started to take influences from how you dressed. He would do anything to keep your memory alive. If he kept your memory alive, even in the smallest ways, you wouldn’t be completely gone, right? Right.

Beel tried to get the foods you liked to eat together. He got as many as he could. If he could eat with him, maybe it wouldn’t feel as though you were completely gone.

Belphie tried to act how he did while you were alive while also fixing anything you nitpicked him for. If he acted perfect, do whatever you may have wanted, maybe you could come back. Maybe he could see you at least one more time.

Depression

Lucifer tried his best to keep up with deadlines, and he did, but the work was sloppier than usual and only did the bare minimum. He tried this whole time to hide in his work, yet now it felt like everything started to crumble. He tried working this whole time, yet it didn’t bring you back. It didn’t even distract him. Why was he even trying?

Mammon became quiet and kept to his room mostly. He didn’t want to see areas, areas he normally saw you in, without you. He didn’t want to hear the silence. He still clung to the items of yours he took, but it didn’t dull the pain of you no longer being with him. He wanted you with him, but you weren’t, and it hurt. It hurt bad.

Levi lost all most all his energy. He didn’t even feel like lifting a controller to play a game. All he did day in and day out was passively watch some animes and sleep. There were a few days he was able to drudge himself out of bed to take a shower and get some nonsnack food, but those days were few and far between. He wanted to try. He knew you wouldn’t want to see him like this. He just couldn’t see a point.

Satan didn’t think he would ever know the feeling of anger blowing over into sheer pain, but now he can say he has. It wasn’t all gone of course, he wasn’t the Avatar of Wrath for nothing, a significant portion just felt painful, and only seems to get worse with time. Life was painful.

Asmo started to fall in on himself. He tried to use makeup to make everything look fine, but it never stayed for to long with his tears. He hated this feeling. He hated it so much. The world felt like it was crashing around him. You were the only glue for his world.

Beel stopped wanting food. He still ate because he needed to at least dull the pain of his hunger, but he felt so guilty. He didn’t want to eat when you can’t. He didn’t want to eat without you.

Belphie started blaming himself for everything he did to you in your life. He was rude. He tricked you. He KILLED you. Even if you revived and made it back, he still hurt you for something that was never your fault. Now you’re truly gone this time, and he can’t ever fully make up for what he did to you.

Acceptance

Lucifer would never get you back. He understood that, and he mostly came to terms with the sting. He started to return to how others new him. The oldest, most reliable brother and Diavolo’s right hand. He had a picture of you on his desk, started to tell you how his day was, and wished you well wherever you were.

Mammon came out of his room more and more. His schemes also came back more and more. He started to go back to his mischievous and energy filled life. He was never as dependent on the objects he’d taken to remember you by as he had been, but he still kept a memento of you on him at all times.

Levi finished the animes and games you wanted to do together. He made new saves on the games, and he made sure to tell you what happened. Hopefully wherever you were, you were able to hear him, and hear his thanks for being with him.

Satan finally started to be able to relax. You being gone still stung, but he was able to live with the sting now. He started reading books to an image of you, books that reminded him of you. He wanted you to know, wherever you were, that you were still remembered and loved, even if you weren’t there with them anymore.

Asmo started seeing the light of the world again. He started to return to how he was, outgoing and social. He mostly returned to his old style, but he still kept some aspects of how you dressed to remember you by.

Beel started return to his kind and caring self. He was still getting used to you not being there, he doubted he ever fully would, but he came to accept it was a fact you were gone and and he couldn’t change it. He started to go back to eating as much as he could, and he also continued to eat things that reminded him of you. He will remember you and how loving you were to him and his family.

Belphie came to understand you were gone, and he couldn’t bring you back. He regrets that he hurt you as much as he did, but he knows now that at least he can try to help others in your memory. He probably wouldn’t be like you, but he could at least do this to keep your memory and kindness alive.

Their thank you

You helped Lucifer learn to rely on others more, and helped him and his relationship with little brothers as well.

You helped Mammon feel as if he was more than a scumbag trying to imitate his older brother.

You helped Levi understand he isn’t horrible for liking what he likes and that he is truly loved.

You helped Satan truly understand emotions other than anger and how deep they all were.

You helped Asmo shared his insecurities and feel an attachment to someone who isn’t himself or his brothers.

You helped Beel get back his twin and helped him dull his ever lasting hunger.

You helped Belphie come to terms with what happened durning the Celestial War and helped him return to his brothers.

From the bottom of all their hearts, “Thank you”

#obey me #writing #writing blog #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #angst with a happy ending #light angst #angst #tw death #death #mc died #finished #tw minor mentions of death

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because-its-eurovision · 11 months

Text

Hi friends🖤

The week after the Esc final was pretty horrible for me mentally. For the first time ever I was physically ill and actually cried because of the results. The result might have been what I expected, but wasn’t expecting to feel so betrayed and let down. I was really worried I’d start spiraling, but I am lucky enough to have you all here, which really helped. I want to say how sorry I am.

I’m sorry that the televoters didn’t get the winner they wanted. I’m sorry for all of you who used their money to vote in vain. I’m sorry for my country not getting the opportunity to host the contest next year, celebrate and show our culture and I’m sorry that I don’t get the opportunity to welcome my mutuals to Finland. I’m so, so sorry for Yle who put up the best national selection of the year and did everything they could to get the best possible result, and it still wasn’t enough. Most of all I’m sorry for Käärijä who gave his all and damn near burned himself out to reach his dream to win Eurovision and then felt like he had failed us.

As the last seven days have gone by, I’ve slowly gone through the stages of grief. Denial that the results can’t be true and believing that they must be rigged. Anger at the nepotism and favouritism. Bargaining, thinking that maybe the Swedish delegation feels bad and lets Finland co-host next year or even gives us the trophy. Depression and fear that we are never going to get this close to winning ever again and this was our only shot. Finally, acceptance that everyone played by the contest’s rules and the end result is what it is.

Yle made a great choice of showing Käärijä’s Ice Hall show live and making it available all around the world. It was the marketplace celebration he wanted and deserved, but even better. Every single person in that audience was there for him and only him, as was every viewer wherever in the world they might be. Käärijä got the main character moment he deserved and that really warms my heart. The show also gave a closure to the after-Eurovision week and the post Eurovision depression and the new national trauma that all of Finland was starting to experience. It kinda ended this season on a high note for us.

Last night I unpacked the last stuff from my suitcase, put my bolero away, folded my Käärijä shirts to the closet. Then I went for a walk by the seashore, just to clean my thoughts from all the literal and figurative noise. And I remembered how small we are, and how unsignificant everything really is. And after a while, the numb grief was repleced by gratefulness. So I wanted to say thank you.

Thank you to every single one of you. Thank you for all the love you have shown to Finland and Käärijä this year. Thank you for the comments and likes, thank you for making art and memes, thank you for streaming and voting and supporting us. Finland, Finnish artists and Finnish language are so often forgotten and being in the spotlight of the whole world right now feels unreal and incredible. Thank you for watching our silly little national selection and their content, thank you for following Käärijä’s journey.

Thank you to everyone in Liverpool and all over the world who was rooting for Finland this year. I’ll never forget the German journalist who told me off the record that she wanted Finland to win, or the half dozen Spanish guys in green boleros, or the local volunteer who sang cha cha cha with me in the middle of the street, or the people who chanted for Käärijä at the arena, or the Brits next to us who came to give us comforting hugs when the result was clear. I’ve never seen my nation supporting something or someone in such a unison. The green colour, the outfits, the haircuts; cakes, drinks, decorations, celebrations all over. I’m thankful that people showed up at the airport and made clear to Käärijä how proud we are of him and how much everyone loves him. Not only did he reach a result most of couldn’t have even hoped for a few years back, he did it in our own language. He put Finland on a pedestal for the world to see and united this whole country in a way I’ve never seen before. He showed us how important it is to be yourself, be kind, accept your flaws and laugh at them, just believe in yourself and always do your best. Thank you, Jere from Vantaa. You deserve the world.

#content: thoughts I just had to get out #thank you for not abandoning me when I was devastated and angry and bitter #I don't deserve you

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tropes-and-tales-archives · 5 months

Text

Sonny Carisi: Second Chances, Part Two

WC: 2107

TW: Angst; break-ups; goofy good fun.

AN: This is part of a mini-series. The rest can be found here.

You only saw Nick one last time, when he came into the precinct to empty his desk and his locker. You made yourself unavailable to talk, calling down to the lab and remaining on hold for long time that would normally infuriate you. Nick lingered around your desk for a bit, but you only shrugged and mouthed “oh hold.” You didn’t want to hear his empty words, and he eventually left. Once he did, you hung up your phone, and when you looked around the bullpen, you noticed Sonny watching you.

“Everything okay?” he asked, and you nodded and shrugged at the same time, as if to say, whatever.

Nick only tried to call you once after that, and you let the call go to voicemail. He left a message, but you never heard it. You just deleted it and tried to forget about him.

-----

You had a minor in psychology, so you were well acquainted with the stages of grief and all the theories about grieving. You mainly bounced between anger and denial, skipping the bargaining stage altogether. You didn’t pray and barely believed in god at all, seeing what you saw every day at work. If there was a higher power, you weren’t going to waste your breath on bargaining for someone like Nick Amaro. If anything, you’d send a prayer for Maria: you had zero animosity for the woman, and you hoped she would be able to find happiness, considering how she was tethered to Nick for at least as long as Zara was a minor.

You cleaned your apartment from top to bottom with the dedication of a career criminal erasing evidence. You wanted every microscopic trace of Nick out of your life. You gathered up everything he left behind: a t-shirt, a baseball cap, half a stick of deodorant, and a paperback thriller with its spine cracked and broken. You tossed everything except the book – you shoved that in a tiny library outside a bodega near your house.

You spent time at the NYPD gym, you poured yourself into you work, and you made sure that you were completely exhausted by the end of each day so that you could sleep without dreams. But you still dreamed sometimes.

You grieved and raged in your own way, but you kept it private. You took a great deal of pride in your ability to stay professional at work – you never cried, you never yelled or lost your temper. You were a steady, even-keeled presence in a precinct full of passion and strong personalities.

For the most part, none of your coworkers even remarked about Nick leaving. They knew you’d dated, but aside from a few sympathetic glances in the beginning, they left you alone.

Except for Sonny.

You caught him, more than once, watching you from across the bullpen. You begrudgingly admitted that he was handsome, especially once he lost that awful mustache he had in the beginning, and you readily admitted that he was a good detective.

He watched you, but you couldn’t read the expression on his face when you caught him. He didn’t have his usual hang-dog look like when a particularly sad case came through. He didn’t look angry. You couldn’t quite place it, but if you stared back at him too long, his ears would turn an amusing shade of pink and he’d duck his head.

You were a great detective, but every detective had blind spots. Years later, you’d laugh and tell people that the evidence – solid stuff, not circumstantial – had been right in front of you, but you had missed it anyway. But that was years away, and right now, you were nursing a wounded heart and an even more wounded ego.

So when Sonny stared at you with his big blue eyes, when he placed a cup of coffee on your desk without a comment, when he offered you the first pick of cannoli from the box he brought in, you just shrugged and thought, “Sonny is just being Sonny.”

-----

The day had started terribly, and you would have just stayed home and rode it out from the safety of your couch. You had to testify early though, so you had to try and deal with the stuff the universe was throwing at you.

First, when you sorted through your mail from the previous few days, you found a few errant pieces belonging to Nick that had somehow slipped through the post office’s forwarding system. Junk mail, mostly, but one glossy card from a national jewelry chain caught your eye. On the front, a picture of a happy, perfect couple. The man on one knee, the woman caught in happy surprise. The back of the card listed some new diamond line promising “an engagement ring as brilliant as her!”

You tore it into a million pieces, slicing a particularly nasty papercut along the crease of your thumb that burned every time you flexed your hand.

Second, the NYPD gym was closed – water main issues – so you didn’t get your usual cardio relief before dawn.

Third, traffic was a nightmare.

Fourth, you were in your courtroom suit, which was sharp and stylish, which meant it wasn’t comfortable like your usual work outfits.

You were just irritated, and every little thing was piling up. You took a deep breath and poured yourself a cup of coffee in the SVU breakroom, willing yourself to calm down. You couldn’t take the stand so angry – Barba was good, but he couldn’t fix a detective that came across as irate and hostile.

You added an obscene amount of sugar to your coffee, then turned away from the counter to return to your desk. Instead, you turned smack into Sonny, who had crept up on you like some slender Italian-American ghost without a sound.

You yelped as your coffee exploded against you, searing your hand. You jumped backwards, cracking your hip against the counter and yelped again at the bolt of pain that radiated down your leg and up your waist.

“Sorry!” Sonny said. He held his hands out to help but didn’t know what to do so he just kept them out in supplication.

You shook droplets of cooling coffee from your hand and then looked down your front. Your suit jacket and pants were mostly unscathed, but your snowy white blouse had a massive stain on it. You glanced at the clock on the wall; you didn’t have time to go home and change, but it didn’t matter anyway – your dry cleaning hadn’t been picked up in weeks, and you didn’t have any other suitable shirt at home.

You gritted your teeth. “Great. Perfect. Nice.” You crumpled the mostly empty paper cup in your hand and threw it into the garbage. “Fuck this.”

“Sorry,” Sonny repeated, and you saw how aghast he looked. He reached past you and grabbed a handful of napkins, then made as if to daub at your chest, then blushed, then handed them to you instead. You took them and tossed them into the garbage too.

“I have to fucking testify in less than an hour,” you told him.

“Sorry,” he said a third time.

You shook your head and sighed. “Are you a ninja, Carisi? You purposely creep up on me to scare me?” You glanced up at him and saw the distress in his face, so you sighed again. “It’s okay. It happens. It’s just been one of those days, and it’s not even eight yet.”

“Do you have a spare shirt?” he asked, sheepish. He ran his hand over the back of his neck nervously.

You shook your head. “My dry cleaner has all my stuff. I’m a chronic drop-off that never picks up. Besides, with traffic, I’d never make it home and back in time.”

“Can Barba move you to later in the day?”

“No,” you said, shaking your head again. “I’m the last witness he had to call.” You gave a bitter laugh. “Save the best for laugh, I guess. Nothing says ‘professional’ like a giant coffee stain.”

His face lit up. “Maybe not. Come on,” he said, and he motioned for you to follow him to the locker room. He spun the dial on his locker and opened it with a clang. He pulled out a crisp white men’s Oxford shirt and handed it to you.

You smiled despite your disastrous day so far. “I don’t think we’re the same size, Carisi.”

“Try it on,” he urged you. “It might be a little tight across the…” He trailed off and his ears turned crimson, and you caught his meaning. “But under the jacket, it might be okay. Better than a coffee stain, at least.”

You nodded and waited for him to leave, but he just turned his back instead, so you turned your back to him too. You eased out of your jacket and then removed your wet blouse, tossing it on the bench in front of the lockers. Then you put on Sonny’s shirt. It was long, and the sleeves came halfway down your hands. And Sonny had been right – it did strain a bit along your breasts, and you blushed a bit at this for some reason.

“Alright,” you said, and Sonny turned around and appraised you. You watched his eyes drift over you, faltering for a moment over your chest, then he nodded.

“I look ridiculous,” you said, but he reached out and plucked your jacket from the bench.

“Nah,” he said. He held out your jacket and helped slip it over your arms. “You’d look great in anything.” You knitted your brows at the comment, but you had your back to him so he didn’t see it. You turned back around to face him.

“Tuck in the shirt,” he ordered, and you did, stuffing it under your waistband and smoothing it out. It already looked better.

“Here,” he continued, and he took first one of your hands and then the next. He rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, fussing with them until they were mainly tucked under the cuffs of your jacket and only a thin margin of white stuck out. You watched his face as he helped, his brow creased in concentration. “Much better,” he finally said. He took a step back and looked you over again.

“Courtroom ready?” you asked, and Sonny smiled.

“Well, no one can compare to Barba strutting around in his three-piece suits, but you’re a close second.”

“Thanks, Sonny,” you said. “I’m sorry I snapped at you.”

“It’s okay. I know you’ve been having a rough time.” He caught the startled look on your face at this, and he tried to clarify. “With Nick and everything. I mean, you know.” He finished lamely and rubbed the back of his neck again.

“Is it that obvious?”

He shrugged. “Nah, but it still can’t be easy.” He cleared his throat and you noticed a flush creeping up his neck from under his collar, but he didn’t say anything else.

You glanced down at your watch and noted the time. “I have to head over to the courthouse,” you said. You smiled at him and thanked him again. “I promise I’ll get your shirt back to you as quick as I can.”

He waved you off, and you started to leave the locker room, but he called out after you. “Nick was an idiot,” he blurted. When you turned and looked over your shoulder at him, his face was bright pink, and he couldn’t quite look you in the eye. “I mean…I…a lot of guys would have never left you behind,” he stammered.

You looked at him a long moment before you smiled at him. You thought about the past few months, and before them, the time with Nick. You decided to take a chance. “Well, if you know one of those guys, shoot me his number,” you said. He looked up at you, surprised, before he smiled back at you.

“I might know someone,” he replied. His blue eyes were bright, and you felt your terrible day – and terrible past few months – begin to loosen their grip on you. You nodded at him, then turned and left. You grabbed your purse and headed to the elevator bank, and you didn’t even make it out of the building before your phone dinged. You fished it out of your pocket and read the message, from Sonny.

It was a phone number that, if you checked it against Sonny’s saved contact information, you knew would match. Underneath it, a message:

He’s free this Saturday evening, and I bet he’s already crazy about you.

#sonny carisi #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x reader #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #tropes and tales

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inviberu · 8 months

Text

fallen

In which Faust goes through the process of realizing that he does, in fact, like you.

— Faust x Sage!Reader

i. denial

People often saw Faust as a straightforward wizard; a no-nonsense type of guy. When it came to love, many assumed that he wasn't the type to beat around the bush. It would be a lie to say that their claims were false but there was a little misconception—getting to that point is an entirely different story.

Today, Heath noticed something different with Faust. Perhaps it was a little mean to admit this but he couldn’t help but nudge Chloe and whisper to his ear after sparing his mentor a glance. “Doesn’t he seem… a little different today? He’s smiling.”

“Eh? Really?” Chloe tried to be discreet and turned his head to glance at Faust but Heath was quick to grab his head and turn it back to the way it was facing before.

“Too obvious!” He had a panicked expression on his face, silently exclaiming and hoping that Faust didn’t hear or see anything that might prompt him to come closer. Chloe muttered a small apology and tried to get back into his normal demeanour. Heathcliff let out a sigh of relief, but it was short-lived when all of a sudden—

“I can hear you two, you know?”

“F-Faust-sensei…” Caught red-handed. Heath averted his gaze quickly and Chloe started fiddling with his fingers nervously. “We weren’t doing anything bad, really!”

“Relax. I’m not accusing you two of anything.” A warm smile followed by a chuckle. The two young wizards stared at him blankly, trying to comprehend the sight in front of them. They looked at him and then at each other—their expressions were saying: Huh?

Heath decided to bite. His curiosity getting the better of him, he just hoped that the question wouldn’t be answered with hostility from his end. “Faust-sensei, you’re smiling a lot today. Did something happen?”

“Huh… Do I need a reason to smile?”

“I suppose not but… It’s a little unusual if it’s you.”

“Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?” His tone was annoyed but his expression was anything but that. He still had a grin on his face, a little reminiscent of a friend teasing another. That made Heath and Chloe even more baffled—that was one rare expression.

Chloe decided to bite next. His curiosity also got the better of him. However, this time, his question was more straightforward than the last and definitely something Faust wasn’t expecting. “Is it related to the Sage?”

“... Huh?” His expression immediately fell as he cleared his throat.

Oh, bullseye. The two thought.

“What nonsense. I wonder what gave you that idea in the first place.” Truth be told, Chloe only overheard such information when he was hanging around Shylock’s bar. It was the twins who started blabbering about Faust’s love life, saying stuff like: Oh…! Faust is so hopelessly smitten with the Sage!

Chloe thought that Faust didn’t need to know so he kept his mouth shut and thought of another excuse instead.

“You seem really close. Plus, you always look happy whenever you’re with them!” Heath nodded along even though it was the first time he had heard of such a thing. He was doing a really good job hiding his surprise—he’d have to pester Chloe for more details later.

Faust just shook his head, denying the claims with a vexed expression. “You must be imagining it, there’s no such thing.”

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“Really?”

“Heath. Don’t jump in.”

Heath let out a nervous laugh. Faust’s tone was stern but there was something underneath that made him want to prod into the matter more. “Are you sure you aren’t just in denial?”

There was a prolonged pause from Faust.

Oh, he definitely is—the two of them thought.

“... There’s no way.” The two of them fought the urge to say something in response after seeing his troubled expression.

ii. anger and bargaining

Anger wasn’t the right word. Distraught—yes, maybe, that’s a better word to describe the way he was feeling. After that little interaction he had with Heathcliff and Chloe the other day, he’s been thinking about it nonstop.

He never thought of himself as the reckless type (after a certain point) but right now, he was considering doing something as reckless as turning back time. He shook his head—even if he wanted to, there was no way he could so he was left lingering and pondering over his own feelings.

“It can’t be like that—there’s simply no way.” He tried reasoning with himself. If anyone saw himself talking to himself in the courtyard right now, they would think that he’d finally lost it after all those years of solitude.

“Hey, hey! Whatcha doin’ out here?” Faust froze. Then a groan escaped his lips. Of all the wizards that could’ve walked in on him while he was having his dilemma, it just had to be one of the most annoying in the bunch.

“... It’s nothing.” He cleared his throat and tried to iron out his scarf just to seem like he was doing something else rather than talking to himself. “I should be asking you the same question.”

As usual, Murr ignored his question and continued talking much to Faust’s displeasure. “Is it love problems?”

He cursed under his breath, how did this wizard always manage to hit all the sore spots? He looked away, his mind searching for an excuse to throw at him but what came out was a meek and pathetic attempt to deny it.

“No. It’s not love—it’s definitely not love.” Faust insisted. Murr wasn’t even talking anymore but he just kept going as if he was going back to the time he was talking to himself. “It’s gratitude. It must be something platonic. It’s highly unlikely that it’s romantic.”

“Now you’re just trying to convince yourself.” Murr giggled, wrapping an arm around the Eastern wizard’s shoulders. Faust shuddered at the sudden contact but didn’t do anything to stop him anyway. He continued, “Why make things even more complicated than they are?”

“It’s not so simple that I can just—”

“It’s love! Everyone, Faust is in lo— Mmf!?” Faust had never moved so fast before. The panic that overtook him eventually settled after he slapped his hand over Murr’s mouth. He hated the way he could tell that the insufferable wizard was smiling underneath.

“Don’t announce that! What if someone hears you!?” Slowly, he inhaled and removed his hand from his face.

“Ehh? If it really wasn’t true, you wouldn’t be as frantic as you are right now. You could just easily clear it up later if someone misunderstands!” That smirk on his face was as infuriating as everyone else described it to be. “It must be true if you don’t want anyone else to know!”

“What sort of logic is that?”

“Dunno, but it makes sense to me.” He laughed. “C’mon, don’t be shy! The sooner you accept it, the sooner you’ll feel better about it.”

Faust couldn’t believe he was about to take love advice from Murr of all people.

iii. depression

“Faust, it’s been a few days. The Sage is getting worried.” Faust got up from his bed groggily. He could barely recognize that voice with the way his mind was still clouded from his sleep.

“... Cain?” He’d stop responding if he turned out to be wrong.

“Yes, it’s me. Are you alright?”

“Argh… Yes. You can tell the Sage I’m fine.” He pushed back his bangs and let out a sigh before putting his glasses back on. If he was being honest, he’d been sleeping a little bit too much for the past few days.

“You sure? The Sage wants to see you, you know?” If he was being honest, again, they were the last person Faust wanted to think about. Ever since he had that conversation with Murr, he was so distraught to the point that he shut himself inside his room and started overthinking everything.

After a long pause, he responded to Cain. “Tell them I’ll see them soon.”

Of course, that was a lie. He was just going to spend more time wallowing on his own before he could finally reach the final stage—acceptance. He heard footsteps walk away from his doorstep and he breathed out a sigh of relief, thinking that he could finally go back to lying down.

That is until he heard a loud thud outside.

“Ow, ow, ow… That’s one sturdy door you got there.” Faust jumped up and opened the door immediately after hearing Cain’s pained voice. There was no way the reliable Central Knight would try to break down his door by running towards it, right?

Unfortunately, he was met with Cain kneeling down on one knee and clutching his arm. The single thought that went through his head was none other than: What the hell?

“Of course it is. I put a curse on it so that it couldn’t be opened—actually, no, that’s not the point. What possessed you to run into the door!?”

“The Sage told me to bring you over at all costs. I’m just following what they said.” There was no way the Sage would issue that command, there was no reason for them to make such a demand. Of course, unless—

“Uh, Faust? You’re kinda spacing out.”

He didn’t know anything for sure yet. Though the thought—the possibility—that it’s the exact same case that he thought of was enough to make him feel warm. He hasn’t even answered Cain yet but he was already drifting away with his thoughts.

“Faust?”

“...”

“Faust…?”

“...”

“Faust!”

“H-Huh!?” He snapped out of it. A light hue of pink dusted his cheeks as he pinned his gaze away—was he so engrossed in his thoughts to the point that he couldn’t hear Cain calling out for him?

Oh, this is bad.

Really, really bad.

There was really no use denying it at this point. The answer was painfully clear.

This is—

iv. acceptance

“Sage, did you want to see me?” They turned their head towards his direction as soon as they heard his voice. Faust felt his heart beat a little faster. From nervousness or anticipation—he didn’t know. He couldn’t be bothered to think about the little details right now. He had much more pressing matters to attend to.

Such as how he was going to deal with the Sage.

“I did! You’ve locked yourself away in your room for a few days, I couldn’t help but get worried.” It was concerning how happy Faust felt when he heard them say that they were worried for him.

Seriously, I should get a grip on myself. He couldn’t afford to get distracted—he had to let it out before it consumed him whole. He shook his head and tried to put on a normal expression but the corners of his lips kept curling into a small smile.

“So you sent Cain to break down my door?”

“That wasn’t intentional! In the first place, I wasn’t the one who told him to bring you over—it was Murr who gave him the idea.” Inside his head, Faust was groaning. Outside, he couldn’t help but grin.

“Really? So you didn’t want to see me?”

Ah, was that too forward?

“It’s nothing like that. I do want to see you—” His brain stopped listening from that point on. He really couldn’t stop the way his eyes lit up and the familiar pink dusted his cheeks once more.

He took a step closer as he tried to ignore the way his heart was about to leap from his ribcage. Maybe it was reckless, maybe it was too straightforward but nobody ever said he was the type to beat around the bush after he came to terms with the fact that he’s fallen.

“In that case,” his face was close, “I’ll make sure to not stray too far from your sight.”

“You don’t have to go that far…”

“It’s what I want.” He admitted. “Don’t think that I decided all of this just for you. It’s for me, too.”

“Huh?”

“I want you to look at me.”

Maybe he’ll regret acting like this later on, or maybe he won’t. Though all he was certain of was the way he wanted them to go through the same cycle as he did before they would end up with the very same conclusion: I’ve fallen.

#mhyk #mhyk writing #my writing #promise of wizard #mhyk x reader #faust lavinia x reader #faust lavinia #mhyk faust #faust mhyk #faust x reader #mhyk faust x reader

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nyctophiliq · 2 years

Text

TWO WORLDS APART.

description. after a failed mission on Earth-1 you disappear and is quickly presumed dead, a few months later after the official announcement of your assumed passing they see you between their omega earth versions

pairings. viper, neon, sage, jett, killjoy, reyna + f! reader

warnings. mention of death, character death, mourning, grief, self-destructive behavior,

moss' notes. moss was trying to go for something like the ‘five stages of grief’

—𝐕𝐈𝐏𝐄𝐑 ; anger

sabine’s anger was aimed at everyone because everyone was at fault, they didn’t stop you, nobody was with you to provide back up, . her neatly organized and perfect suit in her eyes turned into a mess, even though everything was the same. nothing was in place; nothing was in harmony with one another and soon she turned it into the clutter everyone could see. that few pieces of your clothes, a book you read, pencils, and pictures of the two of you together were damaged by the fury of the scientist. soon all that anger turns into guilt and that guilt turns into more anger as she goes by with her days.

“it’s all of your fault, thinking it was a great idea to send her in there, to leave her alone and to take your sweet time to arrive to where she was! you all should be ashamed of yourself and think about what kind of ‘hero’ you all call yourselves.”

—𝐍𝐄𝐎𝐍 ; denial

maybe it’s her young age or just that after all that happened tala is once again in denial about your death, always reminding everyone at the protocol that if they were able to see your omega-self, there is a possibility that you are still alive somewhere. that given that the two-worlds mirror each other one way or another it only proves that you are somewhere out there. as worrying as it sounds, denial stays with tala for a long time, years could go by, and she would still be waiting for you to walk inside the protocol perfectly fine.

“it is not crazy to think that she is out there, in fact it’s genius! we might not know a lot about that other earth but what we do know they mirror each other! she is alive, we should be out there looking!”

—𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 ; bargaining

ying wei is going over every single event that happened during the mission, from the first time she heard your voice in the earpiece, seen you leap forward to take your position, the last time she heard and soon found herself creating a lot of “what if” and “if only”. she finds herself asking a higher power, the spirit world for answers, a way to go back in time and do it right- it eats her up, guilt settling in the more time she spent thinking about it. if she wasn't already sleep deprived, she definitely was now.

“rest? no, i got some you don't have to worry about me. i lost track a couple of times when I was going over… some stuff. i'll be fine, don't worry."

—𝐉𝐄𝐓𝐓 ; denial

sunwoo is pretending, denying that your loss ever happened and constantly reminds herself that you are not gone, you’ll come around the corner any second. she was pacing back and forth in your room, telling brimstone that he would have packed up your room and took it to storage if he really believed you were dead. something in her told her she wasn’t rational to wait for she went numb shortly after lying to herself wasn’t suppressing her feelings any longer, the child-like radiant turning into a picture of a cold, uncaring, and quiet person. think like viper but constantly picking a fight instead of avoiding them.

“can't we all just agree that none of what you all claim makes sense? she is not dead and you don't realize it but you think so too. either get out of my hair or start helping me find her."

—𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐉𝐎𝐘 ; bargaining

klara closes herself in her workshop, keep trying and trying, searching for an answer to the “what if it they were faulty? what if they were just a little bit better? were they malfunctioning?”, face buried deep in her blueprints. she took apart every single one of her invention, even the ones she hasn’t used on that specific date because if only she had put more effort into her invention, you wouldn’t be gone. during her investigation she offers herself to that someone above all else to take your place, that if it brings you back it can take her instead.

“I don’t need to take a break, I have to find what is wrong with my bots. god, if any of you knew what I was talking about! they were malfunctioning, only if i knew for what reason…"

—𝐑𝐄𝐘𝐍𝐀 ; anger

zyanya blamed you and only you for what happened that day, if you haven’t been so hot-headed and got in the middle of things alone you would be here. although she wouldn’t aim her anger at anyone at the protocol, she would be breaking things, inanimate objects that either had something that reminded her of you or was just the closest to put the blame on and get her anger out on. she didn’t have the slightest remorse when she destroyed anyone’s personal belongings. it would take her anger some time to quiet down and the never-ending loop of being happy to remember the time she got with you and just breaking down over your loss.

“it was her fault, the mistake she made was running into the middle of the fight and not away from it. it was selfish and look where that got her! i wouldn't even risk going back in time if i had the chance, she got what she deserved…"

#📼 › moss tapes #valorant #valorant x reader #killjoy x reader #viper x reader #sage x reader #neon x reader #jett x reader #reyna x reader #cw death

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knybits · 1 year

Text

THE HATING GAME — 6

PAIRING —

↳ kochou shinobu x reader

SUMMARY —

↳ Geniuses within the same field yet rivals within each other’s eyes, your colleagues wonder when the sexual tension will break so that you two will become the department’s powerhouse couple so that they can enter you two into the couples contest against the other departments. Some things might have to be done by force.

WARNINGS —

↳ cursing, violence, death

[ Navigation ]

Each day was a stage through grief.

Day 1 - Denial

There’s no way you fucked your reputation up and made the biggest mistake in your life. Besides agreeing to fake date Shinobu Kocho.

There’s no way Shinobu blames you for anything, you weren’t even the main perpetrator.

Day 2 - Anger

Who the fuck puts the waste jars so close to the edge of the counter???

And why does Shinobu think you’re useless?? What right does she have to pin everything on you? She’s out of her fucking mind.

Araceli had to take you out for a walk this day.

Day 3 - Bargaining

Ok, maybe if you hadn’t grabbed Shinobu and startled her like that, things would be fine.

Maybe if you let her pick the lunch spot that day, you would’ve gotten held up at a fancy place and not been there for the ‘incident’. (This is what you’ve named it now, the ‘incident’)

Maybe if Marcus hadn’t been a little shi-

Too far.

Day 4 - Depression

Why isn’t Shinobu calling you? Or texting? Or emailing? Or burning your name on the campus grass??

God you didn’t realize how empty your days have been without her. She hasn’t attended lectures, and the seats next to you are barren now. Your notes are even sloppier than before, and you actually had to start writing some of your work down to get through it.

You’re back to bunsen burner cup ramen and first years actively avoiding your harsh glare. You’re back to a lab coat that needed a wash since yesterday and a shower for yourself the day before that.

Day 5 - Acceptance

“Stop staring at your phone, just call her,” Araceli chides. She turns the bunsen off and slides you your 4th cup of instant ramen for the day. You have a cold coffee in one hand and your phone in the other. But at Araceli’s words, you decide to put the phone down for once.

“I royally screwed up. Like, as royal as Shinobu herself.”

“Alright for starters, you have to stop with the insults.”

“How was that an insult. I called her royal, I don’t get it.”

You get an overdone eye roll, but at least there’s a response out of you.

“Look, both you and Shinobu are hurt. No one else was there to see what happened to you two, and I think you guys just need to hash this shit out together, ok?”

Silence hangs in the dingy kitchen, the fluorescent light bulb’s flickering causing a slight headache. But you know your friend is right. She’s always right. At least about stuff like this.

—

Shinobu answers her door a little too quickly. You aren’t done mentally preparing yourself (muttering ”She won’t kill me” under your breath a thousand times) when the door swings itself open and in all her 4’11” glory, Shinobu Kocho steps out.

What you don’t expect, is for a warm smile to grace her face as she looks up at you.

“Hello, have you been well?”

The hospitality knocks you off guard, and you almost become a stuttering mess (unfathomable, I know) if it weren’t for the fact that you at least prepared 80% of yourself.

“Fine. Can I come in?” You tilt your head towards her door and she steps aside. The comforting scent of lavender washes over you and your nerves settle quickly. Her apartment has always been calming, though unbearably intimidating when you first came over.

Now you just see remnants of the last month. Studying with tea and sandwiches, watching movies with a hair length of space between the two of you, doing laundry together because she actually has an in-unit washer and dryer (a luxury you clearly can’t afford).

Shinobu has some of her notes sprawled out on her coffee table, notes as colorful and easy to read as ever. So she’s been studying by herself, how nice.

You take a seat at the small dining table she has and she’s cordial enough to pour you your own cup of tea. You’re too anxious to refuse it, not really intending to stay long. You just need to get this massive elephant off your chest before it crushes it.

Amethyst gem eyes stare deep into you, waiting for your to speak. You assume that’s why she’s so quiet, and while it feels like she’s being patient out of kindness, there’s an eerie tension in the air that chokes you up.

“How- uh… I haven’t heard from you in five days… You good?”

You good?

You good??

WHY IN YOUR RIGHT MIND DID YOU ASK HER THAT?!

But honestly, you’d rather Shinobu beat you over the head with her organic chemistry textbook than continue to smile at you. She takes a long sip from her cup, savoring the aroma. She only speaks when her porcelain cup makes a tiny ‘clink’ as she sets it down on the saucer.

“I’ve just been busy. Filling out the incident report and all that,” she waves off your concern.

“We have to write an incident report?”

“No, I do. I told the department and the university to let me handle it.”

It takes your brain a second to catch up because why did no one tell you about an incident report? SHouldn’t you legally be doing that too? Why is she the one doing all the work?

…

Oh.

“You’re trying to pin everything on me, aren’t you?”

Shinobu’s hospitality vanishes in an instant. Her once (fake) smile is replaced with the nastiest glare you’ve seen from her thus far. It’s as if her skin crawls at the sight of you, and she reaches to pull at her ears a little. You can’t tell if it’s a nervous or angry tick, or if she actually wants to rip her ears off so that she never has to listen to you again.

“How dare you,” she seethes. “Actually, I’m trying to cover you. For the both of us. I wouldn’t put your oh so important reputation on the line with the university and department chairs. Even I’m not as wicked of a witch to do that,” Shinobu spits out and you flinch.

You mumble out a quick apology and she takes a second to breath in through her nose then out from her mouth. She does this a few more times, but even a breathing exercise isn’t enough for her to plaster her fake smile on her face again. She stares at you with uninterest when she opens her jewel toned eyes. Your heart aches for a minute, and you’re about to apologize again, and for real this time, but she sets a hand on the table.

“I’m honestly happy that you’re here, (F/n). I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

You blink at Shinobu, eyes fluttering over her perfect posture. But her shoulders are tensed just the slightest bit, and you’re not sure why.

“Uh.. Yeah, I’ve been meaning to talk to you too. Listen, I’m s-”

“This ends now.”

—

Each day was a stage through grief.

Day 1 - Denial

There’s no way she was a part of such a dangerous accident.

Shinobu Kocho - the genius?

She would never have been a part of that scandal if it weren’t for you. There’s no way something so dumb could happen to someone as cautious as herself.

Day 2 -Anger

What the fuck was (F/n) doing grabbing her wrist anyway?? She has a personal bubble for god’s sakes!! There was no need for such aggressive touching.

If Shinobu could go back in time, she would have done a lot worse than push you back a little.

Honestly?? She should have done worse! SHE SHOULD RIGHT NOW.

Day 3 - Bargaining

Ok, maybe if she didn’t insult you, things would be fine.

Maybe if she had fought harder for her restaurant of choice (literally just the taqeria across campus) they wouldn’t have been there for the ‘incident’. (This is what she’s named it now, the ‘incident’)

Maybe if Marcus hadn’t been a little shi-

Too far.

Day 4 - Depression

Why isn’t (F/n) calling her? Or texting? Or emailing? Or locking her into a room with carbon monoxide ??

Her days without you are dull and boring. There’s no competition, no passion, no laughter. She knows that if she were to see you, her heart would fall out of her chest and the thought of being near you hurt too much to bear.

Shinobu forgot about laundry day, and she forgot to get her nails done (which caused her nail lady to call in a panic, because Shinobu has never missed or been late for an appointment). She forgot to nutritionally balance her meal, and she’s started talking to herself only in Japanese, so first years have decided to stop bothering her.

Day 5 - Acceptance

Shinobu knows what she did wrong. And she knows what you did wrong. She knows that she has to make amends, but she also knows that she needs to put an end to all this nonsense.

Because even if you two were to reconcile, what then? What’s the point if you two ‘break up’ in a few weeks anyway. There’s no point in reconciling if this is a fake relationship.

And honestly?

Shinobu doesn’t want to do this anymore.

Day 9 - Acceptance(?)

It’s the phone call with her parents that does her in.

She dreams of her sister, dying in front of her during the mugging. The sound of a bottle of wine being shattered against her sister’s head, shards of green glass scattering across the asphalt. The gooey blood mixing together with the cheap wine. Shinobu being grabbed by their assailants before the blaring lights from cop cars pull up to the alleyway.

Shinobu couldn’t save her sister.

It was all her fault.

“It’s all your fault.”

“Don’t say that Kanae. Please, I-”

“It’s all your fault. All your fault. All YOUR FAULT!!!”

When Shinobu wakes up in a cold sweat, it’s 2 in the morning and she’s stumbling to her bathroom to hurl. Her hair falls into her face and she shakily dials your number, because she needs someone.

Anyone.

Someone to tell her it’s not her fault.

She crawls to the door to let you in, and she can only remember being picked up bridal style, taken to the bathroom, and having her hair pulled back so that she can continue throwing up. So that she can continue crying and screaming in pain. So that she can keep begging her sister for forgiveness.

The only thing that brings her back is the gentle grip around her hair, and the hand against her back that keeps her stable. Soft words of reassurance, “It’s alright,” “I’m here for you,” “You’ll get through this,”

“It wasn’t your fault.”

Time passes, and Shinobu can’t throw up food she hasn’t eaten in the last day. She can’t cry tears with water she hasn’t drank in the last day. She can’t scream with the throat that she hasn’t used to speak in the last day.

So you clean her up.

Turn the shower on, wash her hair, brush her mouth and teeth, rinse her face, put on a pot of chamomile tea, change her into new clothes, and carry her back to bed. Your presence and touch hold a kindness she doesn’t recognize but is familiar with.

When you’re about to leave she weakly takes your hand and begs you to stay with whatever hoarse voice she had left. She wants comfort, a sense of love, even if it’s one sided.

She wants something.

So you stay. You bring up a chair and sit, holding her hand. And she begins to whisper about her sister. Her older sister. The death of her older sister. The therapy she had to go to for her trauma. How the ‘incident’ and the phone call with her parents sent her over, and how lonely she is living abroad with no friends, no family, no one.

Shinobu Kocho knows that she lives in a palace of lies and facades. But she keeps the barriers up and no one questions her, they just revere her. And she wants to keep it that way.

But with you?

Why did she call you?

What is she doing?

Shinobu finally drifts off to a dreamless sleep, and when she wakes up you’re still there. Still holding her hand, still sitting in the chair, still by her side with your head hung over as you snore lightly.

And Shinobu realizes she can’t accept being without you.

---

[Next Chapter]

#Shinobu #Kochou #kochou shinobu #shinobu kocho #shinobu kochou #shinobu x reader #kny #demon slayer #Kimetsu no Yaiba #shinobu kocho x reader

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