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fellulahh · 3 years

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The Point of No Return - Part 3/???, Diavolo x MC x Lucifer

Read Parts 1 and 2 here!

—

MC wasn’t satisfied with their conversation. But nevertheless, she followed his word and turned around; making her way to the door.

Hearing the handle turn, Lucifer quickly glanced up once more; only for a mere second as he watched the human leave.

“My angel of music...” he breathed.

Returning to reality, MC eyes refocused on her fingers as the memories of the previous night vanished from her mind at a knock on the door.

“Barbatos told me you were here.” A voice called from behind.

Turning in her seat, MC smiled when she saw Diavolo approach her. To her surprise, he wasn’t wearing his usual scarlett RAD uniform. His attire was far more casual to anything that MC was used to. Simply wearing a black shirt and slim flitted trousers, Diavolo stepped toward the human.

“I apologise that I wasn’t able to greet you myself. As soon as I heard of your arrival, I finished up my papers.” Diavolo informed her.

“You didn’t need to, my Lord.” MC spoke with concern in her voice. “Not for my sake.”

Diavolo found her sudden worry somewhat sweet. He chuckled at her reaction. “You needn’t panic, MC. I’d much rather watch you play your music than read another report from a noble demon who probably should have died a few centuries ago.”

MC found herself laughing at the Prince’s joke, surprised at how relaxed he was being. The casualness of him made her blush as she began to wonder what it’d be like to spend time with Diavolo alone again.

“I must say,” he started as he positioned himself beside the piano, “I’ve been looking forward to this ever since you left yesterday evening.”

“Thank you, my Lord.” MC nodded, meeting his eyes, “What would you like me to play?”

Diavolo contemplated momentarily before soon realising he knew absolutely no composition that wasn’t for string instruments. Leaning on the piano, he reduced the gap between him and the human.

“Your favourite piece.” He finally answered, “I wish to share the love you hold for it so dearly.”

MC paused momentarily, trying to understand Diavolo’s last words. But she quickly shook the thought as a composition came to mind.

“As you wish, my Lord.” She nodded.

Diavolo smiled at MC as he watched her concentrate.

And of course, as the notes came flooding through her mind, her fingers began to move and music filled the room.

The sound was a warm welcome to Diavolo. His cheery expression immediately became tense as he marvelled over the human. His amber eyes flickered between the movements of her hands and the expression on her face.

He’d never seen anything like it.

Diavolo could have stood there and listened to MC all day. He only wish it could happen but unfortunately his duty called. However, that didn’t stop him from relishing in his muse for a good hour.

Every time MC would end a song, he’d encourage her to play another. And each time she’d start, Diavolo found himself more and more curious toward the human.

Although MC’s mind was solely focused on what her fingers were doing, Diavolo’s was elsewhere. At first he watched the human with admiration but soon he found himself gazing; studying MC closely.

And at one point when he was so focused on her face, he realised he forgot all about the music.

Diavolo turned away, his mind riddled with confusion. He glanced down, noticing the way his large hand that was pressed against the piano had started shaking ever so slightly. And this time it wasn’t just because of the vibrations of the strings inside.

Still staring at his hand, Diavolo close his eyes as the last song came to an end. MC felt that familiar wave of nerves in her body as she anticipated the Prince’s reaction.

Releasing her foot from the pedal, MC’s eyes slowly trailed up to Diavolo - he wasn’t looking her way.

“How was that, my Lord?” She asked softly.

Her voice broke him out of the trance he’d fallen into. Quickly turning his head, his sight lingered on MC’s face before he answered.

“Like nothing I’ve ever heard before.” He answered intensely before smiling.

MC’s cheeks grew warm at his compliment. Although she’d finished, she found herself not wanting to go. She was rather enjoying Diavolo’s company; especially now that she was getting to know the demon and not the Prince he was born to be.

“You said your Mother played, my Lord?” MC questioned with curiosity in her tone.

“Not like that.” He shook his head, “I think you’re forgetting that this instrument isn’t commonly played by us demons.”

“Did you ever learn, my Lord?” MC asked a little too quickly.

Diavolo smiled wider and arched an eyebrow at MC’s question. “Intrigued are you?” He asked as he stepped away from the piano and began walking round its frame. “My Mother may have taught me something.”

MC bit her lip as she felt his presence behind her, slowly making his way to her side. She tried to hide how nervous she was when she felt the piano stool lower with Diavolo taking a seat beside her.

She’d never been so close to him before. Her shoulder was practically grazing his muscular arm.

“Would you like to see the only thing I remember?” He asked, turning his head to MC. “I can assure you that you needn’t worry about me stealing your thunder.”

The human chuckled at his comment, making Diavolo smile.

“You’re not supposed to laugh at that, MC.” He joked as his gaze on her became warm.

As much as MC found his joke amusing, she suddenly realised what she’d done. She’d just laughed in the face of the Prince!

“I’m sorry, my Lord.” She spoke quietly, quickly turning away.

“Dont apologise, MC.” He requested, “As much as Lucifer insists you do, you don’t need to tread on eggshells when you’re around me.”

“Yes, my Lord.” MC nodded. “I understand.”

“Good, my dear.” He smiled.

MC felt a skip in her heartbeat when she heard his name for her. Yes Diavolo had referred to her as ‘my dear’ previously but that was in front of everyone and felt purely platonic.

This didn’t.

“Right.” He spoke up, lifting his large hands to position above the keys, “Let’s see how completely incompetent I am at this now.”

MC once again tried to hide her laugh at his remark. Although she thought she’d gotten away with it, Diavolo could feel the way her shoulder vibrated as she stifled her chuckle. He smiled at the movement but pretended he hadn’t noticed.

Pressing down softly, his fingers began to move slowly as he played a melody. MC was surprised when she recognised it.

She watched the way his large fingers moved, impressed that after so many centuries they still remembered the various chords and notes.

Expecting the composition to draw to an end, MC was surprised when it didn’t. That last chord she’d been anticipating never came. Turning her head, she glanced at Diavolo confused.

“I expect you’re wondering why I haven’t finished.” He chuckled, “Despite remembering every other part of this piece for centuries, it’s the very last chord that has slipped my mind after all of these years.”

“Here.” MC spoke, quickly lifting her small hand.

Without thinking, she gently grabbed one of his large hands and positioned his fingers over the keys that were in her head before doing the same with the other.

Diavolo’s eyes watched her movements eagerly. Her soft touch on him almost caused his body to jolt. But nevertheless, it’d never felt so good to feel the warmth of another’s skin on his.

“I always struggle with this chord but with your large hands you make it look easy.” She chuckled before positioning the last finger. “There. Play it.”

As commanded, Diavolo pushed down on the keys and much to his surprise, it was that chord he hadn’t been able to remember for centuries. Just the dark, minor sound of it caused memories of his mother to come flooding back into his mind.

With the note still humming throughout the room, Diavolo turned to MC; whose cheeks were rosey.

“Does that sound familiar, my Lord?” She asked softly, nerves riddling her body.

“It does.” He answered with a nod and a smile. “Perhaps you’d humour me by returning tomorrow. It’d seem that I have grown so fond of your talents that I wish to keep you for myself so only I can indulge in them.”

“I don’t think Lucifer would allow it.” MC joked, although the Prince could tell her laugh wasn’t real.

Diavolo sensed a thread of nerves in MC’s tone. Was it nerves? Or was it something different? He couldn’t quite decipher.

“Oh?” He questioned intrigued, raising an eyebrow. “Why would that be?”

“I don’t know...” she trailed off, “I’m sure you’re aware of how much of a closed book he can be.”

“That I am.” He chuckled, “Did something happen?”

Diavolo was incredibly intrigued by the way MC’s face fell at the mention of Lucifer. Being the powerful demon he is, he could practically feel her troubled soul beside him.

“No.” MC shook her head, forcing a smile as she broke out of her daydream, “He’s just being classic Lucifer: cold and reserved.”

“Mm.” Diavolo nodded.

Before MC could respond, a new voice could be heard at the door.

“My Lord, I apologise for interrupting but the nobles have began arriving for your meeting.” Barbatos spoke formally.

“Of course.” Diavolo nodded, standing up from his position on the piano stool.

He went to walk away but stopped in his tracks after feeling two expectant eyes on him. Turning his body, his gaze met MC’s.

“Until tomorrow, my dear.” He smiled, “I thank you again for coming.”

“The pleasure is all mine, my Lord.” MC answered.

“Mm.” He smirked at her before turning away again, leaving the room.

—

A/N: I’m not particularly happy with this chapter but thankfully the next two I have ready are a bit better! What do you think to Diavolo and MC?

#obey me #obey me shall we date

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tozierswheelers · 6 years

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promise [s.h.]

Requested: yes. Anon: ”Hi! Are you ok with writing about a reader who self-harms? I was wanting to request a one-shot where my baby boy Steve finds out when the reader’s long sleeve sweater hikes up. If you dont want to, thats okay :) Thank you so much, I love ur writing! “

Warnings: mentions of self-harm. please don’t read if this makes you uncomfortable in any way and if any one of you lovely people want to talk about something i’m always here <333

Summary: (Y/N) Henderson hasn’t been the same ever since the first Demogorgon attack. And now that they’re back, things will only get worse. (at this point, Steve and Nancy are no longer together!)

Pairing: Steve Harrington x reader (romantic), The Party x reader (platonic)

The Upside Down had changed (Y/N) Henderson.

It had changed everyone, yet the young (H/C) girl couldn’t seem to get over it. And that frustrated her to no end.

Her brother had seemingly moved on, finding comfort and happiness within his friend group. Jonathan Byers, Nancy Wheeler, and Steve Harrington had all moved on as well. Jonathan and Nancy’s relationship had blossomed into a close friendship that no one saw coming and Nancy and Steve remained the school’s most talked about couple.

They all had each other and you, well you remained alone.

It didn’t bother you at first. You coped well enough, trying to forget about the Demogorgon and slide back into your regular, everyday routine. Then, the nightmares began.

You never knew what happened during your dreams. All you knew was that you always woke up in a cold sweat, your fingernails digging into the flesh of your arm and drawing blood as you resisted the urge to scream.

The dreams never stopped, only worsening as time passed. Your sleep schedule became messy, and you began spending hours locked away in the public library, studying nonstop in order to keep your grades from slipping.

You often wondered if you mother noticed your sudden change in attitude. Or even if Dustin did.

You eventually decided that, no, they hadn’t noticed and that no one really cared.

So you went about your days, digging your nails into your skin to keep from breaking down.

By the time almost a year had passed, your closet was almost completely composed of jeans and long-sleeved t-shirts, specifically chosen to keep your scarred arms hidden.

But you couldn’t stop.

You suppose it was your way to cope; digging your nails into your arms until you felt the blood trickle down your hands. You knew it wasn’t healthy but you couldn’t stop. It just came along with the nightmares. Besides, it wasn’t like anyone could tell.

At least, that’s what you thought.

Steve Harrington walked through the hallways of Hawkins High, trying to avoid the new kid Billy. His eyes lit up momentarily when he saw you standing at your locker and in a split second, he found himself walking towards you.

“Henderson! Hey,” Steve greeted, leaning against the locker next to yours.

Steve didn’t miss the way you flinched at his sudden appearance. Or the way you subconsciously tugged your sleeves over your hands.

“Harrington,” you greeted, voice quiet. Steve’s eyebrows furrowed at your quiet tone before his eyes landed on a bright orange piece of paper.

“You going?” Steve asked, nodding to the small orange poster.

“‘Come and get sheet faced’,” you read out loud before turning back to Steve. “I think I’m actually just gonna go trick-or-treating with Dustin. Save Jonathan from chaperoning.”

“Aw, you’re no fun Henderson,” Steve said, a pout forming on his lips and causing you to chuckle. His heart skipped a beat. “C’mon. At least drop by real quick. For me?’

You rolled your eyes and reached for your book. You didn’t notice your sleeve rolling up slightly as you reached up. You didn’t see Steve’s eyes wander to your now exposed arm. You didn’t see the hurt and sadness in his big brown eyes as he took in the cuts and scars.

You didn’t notice anything until you looked up and met his eyes, which were still focused on your arm.

“(Y/N),” Steve whispered, taking a step closer.

You, on the other hand, took several steps back, slamming your locker shut and looking at Steve in a panic. “I’m going to be late for calculus. I’ll catch you later Steve.”

You were gone in an instant, leaving Steve stranded in the sea of students as he tried to figure out why you were doing the things you do.

You smiled softly as you trailed after The Party. You watched as they argued over which candies were better, Dustin occasionally looking back to ask your opinion.

“Just nougat, Dusty?” you teased. “I thought I raised you better than that.”

The rest of The Party laughed at your words, with Lucas smiling at you proudly. “Thanks (Y/N)! See, at least someone agrees with me.”

You slowed down a bit as a redheaded girl joined the group, noticing the excitement rising. You glanced around, taking note that it had gotten darker outside. Checking you watch, you noticed that it was fifteen minutes until 9 and you were nowhere near Mike’s house.

Looking back up, you frowned as you noticed that the street was pretty empty. In fact, you couldn’t see any members of the Party in their Ghostbusters costumes. You could feel the panic rise up in your chest as you looked around for them yet resisted the urge to scream, knowing that they were probably down the block.

You pulled your jacket tighter around you as you walked down the street, keeping your head up as you scanned the wandering kids that were still trick-or-treating.

You squeaked slightly as your foot caught on a rock and you tripped, hearing rushing footsteps as you started nearing the ground.

You heard a loud “oof” come from beneath you and you chuckled as you rolled off of the mysterious person.

“Henderson,” Steve groaned. “What are you doing out here?”

You laughed breathlessly as you laid in the street, shoulder brushing with Steve’s. “I was looking for Dusty but he seems to have gone missing.”

Steve snorted as he looked over at you, waiting for you to do the same.

You laid there for a minute, staring at each other before Steve’s eyes flickered down to your jacket.

“(Y/N),” Steve began quietly, licking his lips nervously. “About earlier-”

“(Y/N)! There you are!”

You let out a small grunt as you stood p, a smile making its way onto your face as the Party reached you.

“Guys!” you called out. “I thought I had lost you!”

The Party began babbling about how they ran to the houses with the best candy before immediately shutting up at the sight of Steve. They gave you confused looks and you sighed, sending an apologetic smile towards Steve as you ushered the kids back towards Mike’s house.

“What did he want?” Dustin grumbled as he chewed on a 3 Musketeers.

You smiled and ruffled his hair, ignoring his complaints. “I’m not sure kiddo.”

You panted as you ran inside the bus, your sweater torn from the demodogs that had surrounded you and Steve in the junkyard. You tried to take a deep breaths and control your fear but you could feel yourself panicking.

It wasn’t until you felt Dustin’s hand slip into yours that you felt yourself calm down slightly, reminding yourself that you had to take care of your younger brother.

Once you had all calmed down enough, you decided to go towards the lab. You were keeping a close eye on the kids, trailing behind them, when you felt a hand slip into yours again.

it was Steve.

“(Y/N),” he whispered, bringing your arm up. “What is this?”

You cringed as his eyes scanned over the half-moon indents on your arm, some more noticeable than others and some scared and fading.

“Trust me Steve, it’s not what you think,” you spoke calmly, keeping your voice down in order to keep Dustin from hearing.

“What do you mean its not what it looks like?” Steve exclaimed, flailing his free arm around.

You tugged him down harshly and hissed in his ear. “Listen Harrington. This isn‘t the time nor the place to discuss this. We have to focus on keeping the kids safe.”

Steve gave you an unreadable look before nodding reluctantly and letting you go.

You continued to walk in silence.

You didn’t speak to Steve again until Eleven had managed to close the gate.

You had swung open the door, expecting your pizza, but instead found Steve.

“Harrington, in case you forgot, you already picked Dustin up,” you spoke, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Steve ran a hand through his hair and sighed in frustration before pushing past you and into your home.

“Sure, come in. Make yourself comfortable,” you muttered as you shut the door and trudged after the big-haired boy.

Steve was pacing around your living room, looking mildly irritated.

“That’s it!” he exclaimed, making you jump in surprise. “I’m done pretending. You know what (Y/N)? I have been in love with you since freshman year and I will not just stand by and watch you tear yourself apart.”

You stayed silent as he stepped forwards and grabbed your arms, your heart pounding in your chest at his words.

“Please,” Steve whispered. “Please tell me what’s going on because it is so painful to see this happening and not be able to do anything about it.”

You sighed before speaking. “It really isn’t what you think Steve. It’s just, I keep having nightmares and this is the only way that I can keep my anxiety under control. I didn’t think it was such a big deal and it allowed me to keep Dusty from worrying about me. I didn’t think anyone would notice.”

Steve wrapped his arms around you as he sat down on the couch, bringing you down with him. It was a comfortable position, your head in the crook of his neck and his arms hugging you closely.

“Promise me,” he whispered. “Promise me that whenever you have a nightmare you’ll call me. No matter what.”

You nodded dazedly as you dozed off, causing Steve to smile as he lost consciousness as well.

A few hours later, Dustin walked through the door, cursing Steve for forgetting to pick him up.

At least Will’s mom was kind enough to offer him a ride.

Dustin loosened his tie and made his way into the kitchen to grab a glass of water. Walking into the living room however, he lost his grip on his glass, causing it to fall and shatter.

The scene in front of him was something unique. On the drive home, he definitely wasn’t expecting his sister to be having a cuddle-fest with Steve Harrington himself.

He couldn’t help but smile. “Fucking finally.”

Tags: @delicrieux, @broken-pieces, @toekeery, @stanleyurisalive, @tapetayloe, @thekidsofneibolt, @enigmaticallyme, @gaiasambuci, @the-crime-fighting-spider, @baby-byers, @heckin-harrington, @theconscientiouswriter, @maggie-duvall, @it-reader, @gay-ships-and-tea-sips

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nursingdebriefed · 6 years

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She was 42.

That’s always the first thing that I say when recounting this story, the last line that repeats through my mind at the end.

Warning: this ones sappy.

They say everyone has that one patient that sticks with you. That one sad story you never quite get over. I’ve had patients die, I’ve been in codes, I’ve seen people go from bad to worse and leave knowing I’d never see them again because we were sending them home to die. Dark stuff. But to be honest, thats part of the job most of us can compartmentalize pretty well. Maybe not at first, but eventually. For the most part. But she was 42. And I wasnt even a brand new nurse at the time, I was use to seeing this stuff, It wasn’t my first rodeo. But she’s the one thats stuck with me. Her name still makes me feel a pit in my stomach. Rethinking her story still brings tears to my eyes.

She was always so polite, so respectful. She was Indian, and kept a book on Buddhism by her bedside that she would read when we weren't in the room. She’d always put it down when anyone walked in though. She’d ask how my day was, what medication I came to give her. She said thank you for everything. That never escaped me- we dont get ‘thank you’s’ a whole lot. She was always smiling. She was in for a blood clot. Probably a side effect from the medication she was taking for her brain cancer. We didn't really talk about her brain cancer much in report- she wasn't getting chemo here, the doctors weren't including updates on her status in their progress notes, we all kinda just figured it was an outpatient thing or was under control. She seemed asymptomatic enough. She had a little boy turning 1 and another one who was 6. A friend would bring them by every other day to see her and she would light up. Her friends clearly adored her- and she’d gloat on about them too. “We’ve been friends for five years, I just love this girl” She’d say and her friends would blush. They’d laugh and talk for hours and take turns holding her children. I would smile and give her her medication and join in on their jokes sometimes. Before I left she always said thank you.

Then one night I came in and told her according to protocol, we had to get her ptt labs drawn every six hours while she was on a heparin drip, and we couldn't use her line. She nearly hyperventilated. At first she tried to explain to me that she couldn’t do needles. She had had some experience. As someone who’s been getting chemo for months I was confused, but the more she tried to explain the more anxious she got- she was reacting like someone who had ptsd and I had just said the trigger. It was so bad that I left and called the doctor and asked to make an exception to protocol- to use her line to draw her labs so we didn't have to use needles- and when I came back into the room she was lying in bed silently crying.

My heart broke a little then. She had always seemed so happy, so strong. But now, in the middle of the night, she was scared, and without her little boys or friends or husband around, she allowed herself to break a little. I dont ache with empathy often, but my heart hurt as I sat on her bed with her and held her hand. And just let her cry. encouraged her silently to let it all out- because I dont think she does often. Then she began trying to tell me something. At first I thought she was just choked on her words- she kept breathing in sharply like people do when they ugly cry- but the words never came. Even when the crying stopped and her breathing went back to normal, the words didnt come. She couldnt get out more than “um” and “I..” and at first she looked confused. And then she looked afraid. And I quickly went from empathizing friend mode to nurse mode. I began preforming the NIH stroke scale on her (a way we test to see if someones having a stroke). She had complete expressive aphasia (thats when they cant say anything but can understand what you’re saying). And knowing about the clot in her leg, and the heparin drip she was on, a stroke caused by a clot or a bleed weren't too far fetched. So I called rapid response and soon enough another nurse was there with me, preforming the same test, then he decided to call a code stroke.

We rushed her down to CT. She began silently crying again and kept looking at her phone screen, a picture of her two boys. “Its going to be okay” I kept telling her. She was scared.

As we got her on the CT bed the CT tech asked what side she was weak on. “Neither, she’s just aphasic, no weakness” I answered. She rolled her eyes and called the radiologist saying “its not a stroke, but I”m sending you a scan I need the impression of.” Me and the rapid nurse staring at eachother, clearly annoyed. Soon enough we were back on the floor. The MD was there now, and said he thought she was having a stroke that was still evolving and not showing on the scan yet.

I left the shift that day worried, but not overly so. I work on a stroke floor, people recover from strokes all the time. Aphasia is not usually permanent especially in someone so young. But when I got back that night, she wasn't better. She still couldn’t speak and now she was constantly crying. She now had expressive and receptive aphasia- she could no longer understand tasks I would ask her to do. She slept most of the night- but when I had to wake her to give her medication she would start to panic and cry again, like she forgot momentarily that she couldn't speak, and had to remember again every time she woke up. I tried to avoid waking her.

I was off for a night after that, and when I came back she was on a new floor- the cardiac floor. Apparently she got a chest tube. I went down in the middle of my shift to check on her and ran into her nurse, who was also a friend from my residency, Logan. “How’s she doing?” “She’s on comfort care.” I was shook. She had gone from completely independent, alert, sweet and talkative when she came in, to completely unresponsive. She laid in bed flaccid- eyes deviated to the left, unchanging to verbal or painful stimulus. She had a massive stroke. And my heart broke a little more as Logan told me that her husband brought in her 6 year old to say goodbye that day, and had left the room with him in his arms, crying uncontrollably. This was not expected. I went in to see her and found her husband silent at her bedside. I explained to him that I was her nurse on the 7th floor, and he just nodded and gave a slight smile. I went up to her and grabbed her hand, which hung lifelessly to her side, and tried to keep tears from welling up in my eyes as I said hello, and that I’d been thinking about her. She showed no sign of hearing me or knowing I was present- her eyes stayed deviated to the left and her hand felt cold in mine. When I said bye and walked out of the room, I’m not sure I could remember a time I felt heavier. She died the next day, on her babies 1 year old birthday.

She was only 42. And she’s that patient I will always remember, the story I will always hurt when retelling. She’s the one who taught me how important it is to empathize, to really know your patients so you can tell the second something is a little off. She reminded me of frailty of the present moment, how we cant take these seconds for granted. Because It could all change in the blink of an eye. I heard once that the present moment is the only moment that touches eternity- that it is in the present that the Lord moves and speaks. If we are constantly focused on our past or worried about our future, we’ll miss it, we’ll miss the joy and blessings of being in his presence in our everyday little moments. All that matters is these little seconds we live in now. This is where his grace resides.

I wont take them for granted.

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