Life Is Fragile
Reficoul, Liabel, The Boss x Reader
TAS
Angst
Warnings: Mentions of blood, mentions of death, grieving, denial, anger, mentions of your dead body, major character death (you), suicide, overdose, hanging (if you are easily triggered by these topics, please read at your own risk, or don't read at all.)
One Shots
A/N: personally requested by the developer so blame her not me
Reficoul
WC: 551
Denial would be the first thing that would run in his mind. You, dead? There’s no way. You were just right here, next to him, hugging him, flashing him that smile that makes his heart beat rapidly. But now, you were there. Lying on the ground, in your own pool of blood. You smelled sweet, you looked beautiful, and that hurts him even more knowing that he didn't do this to you. With a forced smile, he kneeled next to your decaying body, and pushed some strands of your hair away from his face.
"Yeah, you got me. Get up."
But you don’t move. Not even a flinch. When that thought settled in, he felt this cold feeling envelope his entire body, and his hand shaking as he tried to cup your cheek, to feel that warmth that he adored so much. But nothing. You were stiff and cold. He couldn't even feel your blood pumping through your veins.
That made the cold feeling in his body worsen, almost to the point that he felt a shiver run down his spine. Slowly, he held his other hand out and cupped your other cheek, forcing you to turn your head to look at him. He doesn’t understand why he is still trying to wake you up. A part of him had already accepted that you’re gone, but he just can’t bring himself to leave you here. He lets out a shuddering sigh through his nose, and rested his forehead against your cold one, his hair falling over his shoulders and tickling your cheek. It hid his expression from all the others, and if you were awake, you would comment about it. Ask why he looks like he’s minutes away from breaking down.
He was never the same after that.
Even when he went to work, (if he ever goes at all), he would stare at a specific spot that you used to be in. Big, empty eyes that trace every detail of the area, and imagining that you're still there. Smiling at him, never treating him like a weirdo. Saying how grateful you are for him. Every time he remembers your smile, he presses his lips together in a thin line, and his arms that are usually crossed over his chest, are now trembling. He just doesn't understand why it hurts so bad. He killed people before, he had watched human life slip from his hand, and he almost never felt anything. What was so different with you? He can't figure it out. He lets out a empty sigh, and finally turns away from that specific spot, his shoulders now tense, and his expression darkening as he tried to hold back the tears that are threatening to spill out once more.
BONUS:
If you had given him something that belongs to you, he'll just look at it. Sometimes for hours. He would smell it, hold it, twist it around his hand to inspect every little detail, and think about the exact day that you gave it to him. If you died by suicide, it would hit him harder than he wanted. While staring at the object, he would silently blame himself, and reach down to hover his hand over his stomach, where for as long as he lives, you will always be one with him, even through death.
Liabel
WC: 673
Anger is the only thing she feels right now. Boiling fury that makes her entire body shake. She isn't just walking to you, she's running. A full sprint that makes her muscles ache, and her breath quicken as she tries to reach you faster, as if there is a chance you are still alive. But once she reaches you, she drops to her knees and grasps your shoulders with a tight grip, almost to the point that it's bruising you and causing your bones to ache. But you don't react. You stay perfectly still like a doll. A beautiful, lifeless doll that won't ever react to her anymore. Her lips started wobbling, and her eyes started filling up with tears.
"You can't be dead, there's no way...!"
She would exclaim, she would cry, and she would gently lift your limp body up to hold it, her arms wrapping around you tightly as he presses her ear against your chest.
She waits with a batted breath, hoping and praying that all of this is a sick joke, that you will open your eyes and say that you were just playing around, and then she'll get mad at you and demand for you to never do something like that again. But there's nothing. No shallow breathing, no weak heart beat, nothing. Just the emptiness of your chest, and your cold body staying limp in her grasp. That makes her heart stop, and the color on her face draining as she slowly lifts her head up, and looks at you with agony written in her face. A soft hiccup escapes her lips, and then an audible sob, her tears running down her cheeks as she hugs you tighter, and buries her face into the crook of your cold neck, her hands trembling violently as she tried to bring you back to life by simply mourning and pitifully calling your name.
Calling for her goddess.
Like Reficoul, it would be a miracle that she even goes to work, and even when she makes it, she's extremely distracted. She's just staring down at the counter with hooded eyes, her lips slightly parted as she can't help but twitch her fingers, the feeling of your dead body leaving a lingering, ghostly feeling in her hands, and it makes her bite her bottom lip tightly to the point that she draws blood. She doesn't even respond to Reficoul's teasing. She just looks at him and walks away. Now she spends her time inside the storage closet, her knees huddled close to her chest as she silently cries about the loss, about the way she misses you so much.
Life is so cruel, she would think.
What's the point of immortality if it isn't used to spend time with the one you love?
BONUS:
Suicide would be a different story for her. Seeing your unmoving body hanging from the ceiling would absolutely crush her. She's desperately trying to pull you down, trying to loosen the rope that is around your bruised neck, like a part of her is afraid that she would damage you further. Until she eventually gives up and rips it off you, where your body ends up falling right into her arms and remain unresponsive. Just like before, she is cradling your body and calling your name, hoping that you could wake up and talk to her like before.
The only difference is that she would feel that it is her fault. That maybe the reason you made this decision was because of the things she said, or maybe she was too mean, or maybe she didn't treat you well enough. All these questions will just swirl around in her head, until she eventually cries on your chest, and holds your body tighter against hers, hoping that somehow, her warmth will cover your cold one. And now, every time she comes home from a long day, she would glance at the corner of her room, and smile just a little. A broken, but gentle smile as your decaying body slowly starts to rot away.
The Boss (A#######)
WC: 604
He's running to you before he could even think, his eyes widening while his heart beats frantically inside his chest. Are his eyes deceiving him? There is no way that's you, there is just no way. Before he could go further, his body collided with the invisible force that has stopped him multiple times, which made him wince and grit his teeth. But he didn't have time to focus on the pain, his only thought was you. He pressed his palms flat against the barrier, and watched with a frantic expression as you slumped over your bed, an empty pill bottle on the floor, and vomit forming in your mouth. He froze, and he felt his heart skip a beat. He let out a scream, a violent, heart broken scream as he tried to break the barrier as hard as he could, his fist banging against it while he tried to push himself in. But it wouldn’t even budge, and that only made him more hysterical and panic even more.
He tried. He really tried. No matter how hard he pushes or punches or screams your name, nothing worked. And that made him realize how powerless he is when it comes to you. He could watch you, let you do whatever you want in his game, but he will never be there to hug you, to touch you, to hold you. To do anything that involves being there with you outside the game. And now, in your final moments, he is forced to watch helplessly as you lay slumped on your bed, with no signs of breathing or life. Slowly, he turns away from the barrier, and slides down against it, his back pressing against the barrier while his eyes stared straight ahead, like he couldn't believe what he just saw, what he just witness.
He knows that he isn't real. But it doesn't change the fact that what he is feeling is real.
It's genuine.
Eventually, he just looks down slowly, and lets the tears that were beginning to well up finally drip down, the warm liquid trailing down his cheeks and over his chin as he reached up with his hands and holds onto his locks of hair as tightly as he could, his fingers digging into his scalp while he tried to suppress the urge scream again, to let out every emotion he is feeling right now. But he knew it would be useless. With his body trembling, he hunched down and continued silently sobbing to nobody, his fingers starting to dig deeper and deeper into his scalp until he felt a stinging sensation. But he didn't care. This stinging pain doesn't even compare to the agonizing feeling of watching you die right in front of him, while he was too powerless to do it anything.
Powerless to save you. Powerless to save anyone.
BONUS:
He won't even try and cope from this loss. How could he? You were practically everything to him, and now that you're gone, what's the point? He knows that this isn't real, he knows that he is simply just a game character, so even if he is gone, even if he deletes himself successfully, he won't be reunited with you. He can't see you, he can't hold you, he can't even talk to you. When he's gone, he will just simply be deleted. There's no "heaven" or "hell" for game characters. It's just the void of nothingness. An endless void that leads to nowhere and somewhere, and he will wander in this path for who knows how long, until he eventually feels that he is losing his mind.
His fate had been decided.