#do not hurt yourself to cope do not hurt yourself to cope do not hurt yourself to cope

[satangcrush]

too loved he became slothful

belphie, satan & g!n reader, sfw, not beta-read

cw▸i dont think theres anything for this, author didn’t do any research a/n▸ no idea if belphie can put people to sleep but he's my character now so he can. also coping hard with the news <3

“You need to sleep now.” The Avatar of Sloth says as he stares at you, half-lidded eyes blinking in a hypnotising manner.

“Why are you in my bed?”

He shrugs, looking cosy as he wraps himself in the blanket that Thirteen had gifted you. Supposedly it was meant to ward off “demons” but it mustn’t be doing too much of a great job.

“Come here.” He demanded instead, blatantly ignoring you.

You sighed, depositing your textbooks on the bedside table before making your way over. The RAD exams have been taking a lot out of you, countless nights have been lost to the study tables in the library and around the HOL.

You sat at the edge of the bed, hesitant to get nearer.

“Don’t worry too much, I won’t do anything to you.” He lifts the blanket, motioning for you to come nearer. You let out a snort, thinking of a funny comment but it never made it out of your mouth.

“I still have a study session with Satan later.” You replied but scooched closer either way. Pulling your D.D.D. out of your pocket, you swiped on the screen.

“Let me set an alarm for ten minutes.”

Arms wrapped around you, pulling you down.

.

Yet, the next thing you knew, you could hear the crowings of the birds and your eyelids were heavy. Your body was heavy as you snuggled deeper into the warmth beside you.

…Crowings?

“Belphie, you little–” You stopped yourself in your tracks, taking in a deep breath. Wiping away at the corner of your mouth, you curled your fist tightly into a ball.

“Did you seriously use your power to make me sleep?” You were not going to jump to conclusions and violence was never the answer.

The peaceful sight of the lastborn snoring normally would soothe your soul but all you felt was pure wrath. The little freak was still dozing off so you used the bottom of your fist to smash into the top of his head.

Distantly, you hope it hurt.

He let out a small grunt, holding onto your fist as you tried to wiggle out of his grasp.

Stupid demons and their strength.

“Great nap?” He asked, giving you a shit-eating grin as he continued to stretch while wrapping his hands around yours. The bottom of his shirt lifted up and you couldn't help but steal a peek. When your eyes flicked back up, he continued to arch an eyebrow. You swear if he was in his demon form, you just know that his tail would be swishing right in your face.

“Yeah, how did you know?” You hissed out, finally wrenching your hand out. With a shake to gain back feelings in your hand, you patted around the bed to look for your D.D.D.

“I’ve let Satan know that you weren’t coming.” He continues, propping himself up to look at you. You carefully shifted his bangs to push them behind his ears. “Aren’t you glad I did it?”

You rolled your eyes.

“You’re just saving your ass.” You flicked his forehead, after finally locating your D.D.D under your pillow. “He would have trashed this room if he found out that I skipped because I was napping with you.”

He tilts his head, staring at you with that calculated expression that you both hated and loved. He gestured for you to look at the object in your hand.

satan: Let’s meet in the living room at about 8.

You: sorry i wont be comin later! im going to revise on my own :>

satan: Are you sure? Didn’t you need help which was why you asked for me?

You: yeah! had a change of mind :p

satan: …Which brother is this?

You: it’s me!

satan: Is this Belphie?

You paused.

“Did you actually leave him on read?” You snickered, holding up a hand to muffle the sound. Suddenly serious, you turn to pin him with a scared look. “Wait, how is my room still intact?”

He laughs, pointing to the door.

You had a horrendous premonition, inching closer to the door. Thankfully, you swung it inwards otherwise, you would hate to wonder what would have been the fate of the Avatar of Wrath.

“I can’t believe it.”

Satan was slumped against the wall, still in his demon form. His hands were raised up as if it was ready to knock at the door.

“Oh my–”

You cleared your throat, lowering your volume.

“You put him to sleep too?” You whispered though it was bordering on a shout. Lifting an arm up, you noticed that he was still limp to the touch. If it wasn't for the fact that you could still see his chest rise up and down, you would have been worried about Belphie's ever-growing list of crimes. 

Totally knocked out.

You suddenly had a headache.

“What am I going to do with you?”

Belphie just continues to grin, burrowing himself further into the blanket.

[junovae]

hi i know you got an ask really recently but can you maybe do the silly sashimi (seb) x a suicidal reader??? but also reader is really silly and the first thing reader says is “hear me out…” or something??? i love your writing :3

thank you so much reader, i greatly appreciate it (っᵔ◡ᵔ)っ(˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶). and don't worry, i got you.

expendable

sebastian solace x reader ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ sfw

artwork: artwork is NOT mine. art is by @miittchan on tumblr, youtube, and twitter. go check out their work and socials, promise it's worth your time.

PLEASE DO NOT INTERACT IF THIS TOPIC IS HEAVY FOR YOU. MAKE SURE TO TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF ALWAYS ૮ ◞ ﻌ ◟ ა

summary: escaping the ghastly prison that was the hadal blacksite was probably the best thing to ever happen to you. so why, if that was the case, did you want to go back?

cw: sebastian x su!cidal!fem!reader, takes place after finishing the game, still in the pressure universe, same timeline as this, mentions of trauma and slight suicidal thoughts, reader is coping, angst and comfort too of course, reader wants to...go back to the hadal blacksite?, reader just misses a certain someone too much, trying to find peace amidst the chaos, no spicy scene for this one

wc: 1.4k

a.n: i think i would want to go back too ngl. also this was just my take on the prompt. BUT, if you were looking for something more like sad reader and sebastian comforting them, i got you too with that headcanon. just lmk!! :)

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

"and last but definitely not least. hear me out..."

you place a picture of him, post transformation and all, onto the cake.

"who's this? he kind of looks like the guy who uhm, you know," your friend stared at you intently, hoping you would get the gist. when you didn't answer, they continued. "back in 2013, remember? with the nine peo-"

"no, no, it's just someone i met at the blacksite," you quickly interjected, forgetting that urbanshade had unjustly faked his death and hid the true story of sebastian solace from the world. "and no, that guy didn't murder them. he was wrongly convicted. just like i was," whispering the last part, you grab forks from the kitchen drawer set the cake onto the dining table.

"right, i'm sorry," they whispered softly, guilt creeping into their voice. hoping to lighten the mood, your friend added, "but no, i’m actually hearing you out on this one. did you know this fish creature personally?"

the two of you take a seat and start munching on the delicious red velvet 'hear-me-out' cake presented in front of you. "you could say that," you smiled cheekily, causing the both of you to burst out into a fit of giggles.

just then, a sharp pain similar to tiny needle stabbings pulse through your upper abdomen and into your chest. a series of flashbacks creep their way into your mind.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

you’re escorted down the submarine ramp and shoved onto a platform. “just keep walking. if you hear anything strange, hide.”

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

an ear-piercing screech echoes in the distance. you rush to the nearest locker, slamming the door shut just as a pink aura sweeps past.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

you crawl through a vent and find a small storage room at the end. turning right, you stumble upon a strange fish creature, causing you to jump back. "ah, another expendable," he yawns, unamused. "come in, fishbait. welcome to the shop."

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

volus lunara's searchlights close in. nervous and trembling, you fail the skill-check, getting shocked by the generator. stunned, you lie there as the beam focuses on you. your eyes widen in horror as the monster's grapples pierce your body. this wouldn't be the first time you've experienced this. you'd die a hundred more deaths.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

hurt and wounded, you collapse in a corner. your head spins as the distinct sound of chains dragging on the ground fills the air. resigned to your fate, you limp toward a corner, exhausted. suddenly, someone grabs you and carries you to a seemingly safe room. “what are you doing, fishbait?” a voice hisses. only one person ever called you that. “why didn’t you move? you could’ve died,” sebastian snaps, his voice tinged with anger, but there's a hint of worry beneath it.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

you and sebastian are lying together in the room behind his shop, an unexpected moment of vulnerability. the two of you open up about your pasts. he shares the details of his tragic demise, a painful history that he’s never spoken of before. in the quiet of the room, no longer caring about the consequences, you lean forward and plant a kiss on his cheek. sebastian tilts his head, confusion crossing his face, but there's something else there too—something unreadable.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

a document? "the saboteur," it reads at the top. as you continue reading, the details unfold—now you understand why he’s been given that name.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

after days of giving him the silent treatment, sebastian solace finally breaks. finding out that he was the cause of your repeated deaths weighs heavily on you. desperate to fix things, he starts a pillow fight, and through laughter, the tension melts away. eventually, the two of you make up, finding comfort in the shared moment of forgiveness.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

you try again and again, until one fateful day, you finally make it to the end. as you dry off from your underwater escapade and step into the submarine, a realization hits you. you’ve reached your freedom, but what about sebastian?

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

as you turn from the submarine to search for him, sebastian suddenly appears right behind you. confused, you stare at him. "sebastian, come with me. we can have our freedom and get revenge on urbanshade." he looks at you, his expression sad and melancholy. "i can't go, fishbait."

"yes, you can. come with me, please," you insist.

"look at me. what do i look like to you?" he asks, and you don't see anything wrong with him.

he explains that he has bigger plans, ones that will lead to him meeting you again someday—in human form. you refuse to leave, even as the submarine's hatch starts to close. but in the last moment, he pushes you in. the hatch slams shut, and you’re engulfed in complete darkness.

𓂃 𓈒𓏸

your pulse rushes and eyesight narrows. the room is spinning and the fork in your hands falls onto the table, alarming your friend. your head drops into your hands and you start panting.

"hey, you okay?" they drop the piece of cake with jake sully's avatar on it that they're eating and rush towards you.

"i need space," you shoot at them, feeling their hands on your shoulder. yes, you do feel bad for pushing a friend away but the feeling was too overwhelming. "please, i need space," you repeated again, softly this time.

"yes, i understand." filled with worry, they pat your back one last time before taking one last bite of the cake and grabbing their jacket from the couch. "i'll be back tomorrow, okay? we can finish eating the cake then. just text me when you're feeling better. and please take care of yourself."

nodding your head in acknowledgement, the front door finally closes. you get up, massaging your temples, to lock the front door. your heart is still pounding and face is flushing. you rush to your room and close the door behind you before jumping on your bed. the white sheets engulf your frame as you finally allowed yourself to release the tension you've been feeling all this time.

you desperately scream into your pillow. "this isn't fair at all." you continue to cry, the sound of your soft sobs being the only thing filling the pitch-black room.

months of being trapped in the never-ending death loop in the limbo of the hadal blacksite changed you. now that you were free, nobody believed your testimony against urbanshade. after all, it was one escapee prisoner versus a well-known corporate company. sure, you had your freedom, but the guilt of knowing the company's darkest secrets—the horrid, inhumane experiments they conducted on their captives, the trauma of each death and reset—was consuming you. you had no one to confide in. the only person who truly understood you was still trapped in that very place you purely and vehemently loathed.

expendable. that's what you were. that's what urbanshade had labeled you.

dispensable, nonessential, and powerless.

"i don't want to do this anymore," you softly whisper into the void of darkness consuming you.

...

...

...

...

...

what the hell are you talking about?

you shot up. what the fuck. was that-

please tell me you're not giving up that easily, fishbait.

yeah, no, this was definitely your long-awaited delirium. you were going crazy. the physical and mental stress was driving you insane. but even so... even if it was you finally reaching your limit or even a suppressed memory of him, sebastian solace had promised you that he would see you again one day.

you took a deep breath, steadying yourself in the crushing darkness. maybe you were losing it, maybe that voice was just your fractured mind. but if there was even a sliver of truth, you couldn’t give up. not now. not ever.

"fine, sebastian," you whispered, standing to your feet and wiping your tears. "if you’re still out there, i'll find you. and if this is just my own madness, then i’ll survive long enough to make it back to you—human form or not."

giving up was a harsh reality. but so was fighting back. either way, you knew you couldn't stop. you wouldn’t stop. not until freedom was real for both of you.

you made up your mind. you were going back to the one place in the world you dreaded the most — urbanshade's hadal blacksite.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

[macabrevampire]

i'm relating to this man to a concerning degree

[blueish-bird]

Chainsaw Man is about self-destruction. It’s about self-destruction as a means of reclaiming your autonomy in an environment where you are consistently denied it. Chainsaw Man is about denial of autonomy. Chainsaw Man is about how, when you are in an environment where you are denied your own autonomy, you learn to view interpersonal relationships as interactions you have no control over unless you find a means of controlling the other members of that relationship — whether that be through methods of fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. Chainsaw Man is about how denial of autonomy is framed as love. Chainsaw Man is about how love that denies autonomy is violence.

[yuripira4e]

I want to preface this post by saying that I love the cat king as a character, especially one that has such a major impact on Edwin and his relationship with his queerness and learning to be okay with it; HOWEVER, I also believe that everyone that genuinely believes he should be a love interest for Edwin should read this. (Also if you just like the cat king as a character and want to understand his character better and why his and Edwin’s relationship is not something that would be healthy or “real” for either)

[star-ocean-peahen]

if one more person tries to talk to me i am going to dig my fingernails into my arms get out my body pens and scribble all over my arms in black and red

[webmixtressissa]

I don't care what other people say about the Fionna and Cake finale, that shit laser targeted my one defining character flaw with laser accuracy and left me scrambling to find the strength to keep acting like I'm not falling apart.

[lastoneout]

like idk how else to say it anymore but there is a REASON that a lot of terfs are sexual assault survivors and it's specifically BECAUSE those women come pre-loaded with a severe and easy to exploit fear and distrust of men

[solidcarbon]

.

[jaypgartifacts]

october is coming. which means, of course, that it is time for the horrors. tfw the dream self must confront the Nightmare Self

[unproduciblesmackdown]

truly something that, amidst facing / going through a dramatic Life Change ft. unavoidable emotional effects of that, there are instances where i can't conceal any & all degrees of being distressed / upset, & repeatedly getting "it's hard for me too" as a Direct Response to that: really something & a half how the asserted theoretical Sympathy of [i feel similarly!] is invoked so as to, oh you know, preclude sympathetic Treatment. such as that what would be More sympathetic in these instances would be to say Nothing, "if there's nothing but dismissal / making it first & foremost about someone else's feelings to say, don't say it at all" style

[quintsmachete]

what in the goddamn

[sunnythesecond]

Why does it hurt so much to find out that one of my comfort characters has the same coping mechanism?

[whimsyprinx]

gallows humor is cathartic but watch out

[fourfuckinghorsemen]

what do you do with everything that's happened? where do you put it? you don't have to answer, I don't want to ruin your day

I'd keep active. Constantly focusing on other things and completing tasks and pursuing goals kept me distracted. If you don't allow yourself time to sit back and process things, you don't have to face it.

Of course that only works up until you run out of things to do, then there isn't much of a choice but to try and process everything. Which is difficult, but healthier than bottling them up, or continuing to avoid them. The walls you can put up don't last forever. Things always slip through the cracks.

I've found the tackling one thing at a time helps if possible. It's easy to just start thinking about everything that's ever happened and all that does is make things worse. Therapy helps. Writing things down helps. Running from everything doesn't.

[selamat-linting]

i hate reading stories about heavy subject matter because my favorite character would do something messed up after their trauma and i would remember the time i did the exact same thing and now i have to spend fifteen minutes briefly sitting with a brand new realization about myself. even therapy can not dig this kind of self awareness out of me. therapy can not defeat me, but a writer will. i hate it fr!!!!