Grian oneshots

The five stages of grief

Genre: angst

TW: swearing, death/past death, self harm, suicide, graphic description of dead body

Characters: Grian, Scar, Impulse, Xisuma

Kinda(?) requested by AquillaIsTaken like two months ago (sorry I'm not in a good spot rn)

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Everybody knows the five stages of grief. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and then finally acceptance. Well it doesn't always work like that.

Grian never accepted the too early passing of his fiancé Scar. The man died tragically, as one of the buildings had wrong materials used in the foundation and crumbled while he was in it. Grian mourned the loss for months, never really getting over it.

Denial

The moment Grian saw the building crumble, he ran towards it. The impact threw him back a few meters, but it didn't stop him. He was determined to get to Scar, to save his love.

He dug through the rubble, soon getting help from his friends who heard the commotion. He threw away rocks with a strength he never knew he had. Finally, a bloodied hand was discovered and soon, the mangled body of Scar was dug out. He was heaving through punctured lungs, barely alive. Groan took him in his arms gently, holding him close to his chest, tears flowing freely.

"Nononononono, please, please stay with me,please Scar, I'm begging you, please..." The blonde's cries just above a whisper. "You're all I had, please, don't leave me, please... This isn't happening, please-" he hiccuped and sobbed into the limp body. He squeezed the brunette's hand and got an unnoticeable squeeze back. "Please Scar, you'll be okay, right? Everything is going to be okay! Right? Right?!" Grian screamed into oblivion as all the signs of life left. He checked the pulse.

None.

He sobbed his eyes out, refusing to let go of the fresh corpse. He hugged it closer than ever and kissed the dead man's hand, which slowly turned more and more pale. He refused to believe his lover died.

Anger

"Why did you make the building so unstable you fucking-" Grain yelled his heart out. He punched the wall over and over again, until he bled.

He knew it was his fault.

He built it.

Why why why WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY

His fault his fault his fault his fault his fault his fault his fault his fault HIS FAULT HIS FAULT HIS FAULT HIS FAULT HIS FAULT HIS FAULT HIS FAULT

The wall cracked. He fell to the floor, blood flowing from his knuckles as sobs made his body spasm.

Bargaining

He built an altar. Amethyst. Purple, the colour of their gods.

"Please... Please just... Bring him back..." Grian fell on his knees, hands raised to the small statue of the higher being with multiple eyes and halos. "Please... I can offer you all I have, I just want him back... Please, dear Watchers, I-I'll do anything..."

Tears spilled again.

"Please..."

Depression

He locked himself in. He sat in his room for days on end, overthinking, sleeping, cutting himself.

His friends looked worried and tried to help, but he turned back.

He refused to do anything.

A̶̶c̶̶c̶̶e̶̶p̶̶t̶̶a̶̶n̶̶c̶̶e̶

No.

There was no acceptance here.

Just a rope and a chair.

Creaking of wood breaking the silence in his house.

...

Many people worried for Grian. But it was Impulse who appeared almost everyday on his doorstep knocking or talking. He always received a "no" or a "go away".

For the last two days he received nothing.

He decided to enter. What he imidietly noticed was the pretty bad mess and the even worse smell. The source seemed to be the bedroom.

Impulse walked in and found him. His skin almost white, purple on his hands and feet. His neck the colour of mulberry, swollen.

His eyes were opened, but completely dull. He had black eyebags and his hair was as messy and tangled as ever. He was smiling.

Impulse gasped. He began crying and imidietly called emergency in the chat.

Grian
Dead
Hung himself
Help

A few people appeared quickly and Impulse vividly remembered being comforted by Pearl. His mind was static, the image of Grian hanging in his room ingraved into his mind.

From then on, all the hermits had mandatory psychiatrist visits.