Rhea Ripley One Shots

TW: Depression, Anxiety.

As Y/N took her evening stroll, the air was lukewarm against her skin, a sharp contrast to the inferno of pain that raged within her mind. The streets were empty, the only light an orange hue cast by the streetlights that seemed to struggle against the encroaching darkness. Her thoughts tumbled over themselves in a disorganized mess, a cacophony of demons screaming for blood and a monster version of herself that threatened to consume her whole. She couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't keep living like this. She didn't have anyone. No one to turn to, no one to share her burdens with. The weight of it all was becoming too much, threatening to crush her beneath its hefty grip. And as she walked, her steps growing heavier with every passing moment, she knew she couldn't continue like this. She had to find a way out, a way to silence the demons and the monster inside her head. A way to feel whole again.

With a sigh, she paused beneath the glow of a streetlight, its warmth momentarily banishing the cold that had settled into her bones. She looked around, unsure of where to go, what to do. She needed help, she knew that much. But who could possibly understand what she was going through? Who could possibly help her fight the demons and the monster that plagued her every waking moment? As much as she wanted to believe that someone was out there, that she wasn't alone in this, she couldn't shake the feeling that she was on her own.

Deciding to rest for a moment, she made her way to a nearby bench, its metal frame icy to the touch. She sat down, hugging herself against the cold, but the numbness that had settled over her made it bearable. She closed her eyes, trying to block out the screaming and the shouting in her head, but it was no use. They were always there, always taunting her, always telling her that she wasn't good enough, that she didn't deserve happiness. Y/N put her head in her hands, feeling the warmth from her breath escape her lips in ragged gasps. She didn't know how much longer she could go on like this, living with the constant fear and self-loathing that threatened to consume her every waking moment.

The feeling of a warm hand on her shoulder is what she felt next, she brushed it off until she heard a raspy Australian voice call out to her, "Are you okay?" Startled, she looked up to see a figure standing nearby, silhouetted against the streetlight, about 5"7, short hair but definitely a girl. Something about the way she spoke, the tone of her voice, made her feel a tiny spark of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this person could understand what she was going through. Maybe she could help her fight the demons and the monster that haunted her every thought. She hesitated for a moment, unsure of whether to trust this stranger, before mustering up the courage to reply, "I.. I don't know..." The figure stepped closer, her outline becoming clearer, and Y/N couldn't help but wonder if they were real or just another manifestation of her tortured mind.

Y/Ns eyes adjusted to the darkness, taking in the girl's appearance. The outfit she was wearing was unlike anything Y/N had ever seen before. The girl was dressed beautifully, in black ripped jeans, fishnets and a black hoodie, all completed with full goth makeup. Despite the late hour, she somehow managed to pull off the look effortlessly. As their eyes met, Y/N felt a strange sense of comfort wash over her. This girl was different, she exuded an aura of confidence and self-assurance that Y/N hadn't felt in a long time.

The girl slowly sat herself down next to Y/N, her presence so comforting and warm. "My names Demi. What's on your mind, dear?"

"My name's Y/N," she managed to choke out, "I... I don't know what's wrong with me. I just feel so trapped and overwhelmed y'know..." Her voice cracked as she spoke, the words tumbling out of her in a rush of anguish.

Demi nodded sympathetically, her gaze never leaving Y/N's. "I understand how you feel," she said softly, "I've been there before too." She paused for a moment, considering her next words carefully. "It's like there's this weight on your chest, right? Like you can't breathe, and no matter how hard you try, you just can't shake it off."