#I promise if you knew about my health/personal situation this reaction over being unable to doc & share this kid's show would make sense

[gildedmuse]

If anyone is wondering why I haven't updated, there are a number of reasons. However, a major one is that Crunchyroll will no longer allow you to use old versions of the app. What this means is I am no longer able to take screenshots of record small scenes so I can transcribe them or basically do most of what I do here.

For those of you who are unfamiliar with this blog, I am a broke ass bitch with a chronic, genetic kidney diseases I had the pleasure of being born with, which severely limits me in a number of ways. One such way is money: medical bills at expensive and even with insurance I owe something like $1,462.78 and that's just the past year. Nevermind the bills I collected from other hospitals/doctors. The result is I live a pretty simply life, including the fact that I don't own any sort of fancy recording equipment like "a pc". Every screenshot, every gif, every artistic and not so artistic edit, every video recording, every single post and fanfic and reply, that is all done from my phone. It's my one and only portal to the Internet and sole tool to do whatever is is I do.

With that in mind, while I am proud I managed to take my degree in English Literary Theory and learn how to do all of that on an older model Android I've had for a few years now, I also know that then bulk of internet denizens are just WAY more skilled/knowledge at this then I will ever be.

Keep in mind, I have no money (so advice along the lines of "just buy this $99 program, it's so easy!" or "why not just get a cheap laptop, you can get one for under $600 EASY these days" or even "you just need a monthly subscription to this OTHER streaming site, that doesn't have a film blocker" just doesn't help, especially since I don't even have my own subscription to CR so there is no just dropping that to pay for another.) I was hoping someone out there knew a method I could use to record the "latest" episodes.

I say latest but I left off at 1078. I know, I'm ages behind, but there is a good reason for it.

Please, anyone who knows how I can take screencaps (recordings would be useful but not required) PLEASE contact me and let me in on your secret.

I won't tattle, I swear. I just want to be able to watch the show and react about it on this blog since, sadly, I've recently lost all my OP watching buddies to various life circumstances.

Failing that, I need someone to agree to watch every single episode along with me as my "recorder", recording long swatches of each episode and then sending to me when we're done so I can get my screencaps and gifs and the likes. The good news? You'd have someone eternally thankful for your contributions, who would credit you in every post, and I wouldn't even use any jokes/observations/thoughts you might share while we watch without permission. And.... errrr. Did I mention the gratitude? Shit, that's really all I have.

But I have so much of it!

Guys, I hate getting all emotional, but I am having a hell of a year between the dogs, the bad diagnosis and, hey, this is currently my face:

For comparison, when I'm not dying:

Just any help or even attempts at advice would be welcomed. I know it's stupid, but a lot of what I personally get from reading/watching/playing things is in sharing it with others. I shouldn't have to explain that, it's part of why places like Tumblr and AO3 EXIST.

Feel free to reach out in a reblog, comment, tag me, DM, message me on discord (gildedmuse). Whatever is easiest. And thank you, so, SO much for any potential advice or help you can offer.

#please help #one piece #screenshots #crunchyroll #desperate fan #need help #looking for help #looking for advice #looking for a goddamn miracle #why don't they want me promoting their show and getting people excited about it #I'm sorry for the post length #it honestly left me so depressed learning I could only watch the episodes and no longer had a way to communicate about them so easily #roronoa zoro #trafalgar d. water law #trafalgar law #dracule mihawk #tagged BECAUSE IF SOMEONE HELPS ME FIGURE THIS OUT YOU KNOW I WILL GET YOU THEIR SCREENSHOTS #I literally don't know what to do if I can't take screenshots #I was so excited for the egghead arc & now I have no one to watch it with and no way to share it #I promise if you knew about my health/personal situation this reaction over being unable to doc & share this kid's show would make sense #Hey I've EMBRACED being a pathetic fan who is unshamed in her love of media analysis and fandom excitement

[anika-ann]

In the Strangest Place (We Just Might Find Love) - Pt.2

Type: two-shot, pretty much canon

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader     Word count: 2750

Summary: You’re hiding from your boss in a supply closet, minding your own business, when a stranger joins you unexpectedly.

Steve is not entirely a stranger anymore; he knows about your troubles and you know about his. And he’s determined to sort out yours this very moment.

Warnings: mention of sexual harassment, a bit of angst, language, something that might be close to a panic attack if you squint

A/N: There we go... hopefully I’ll make mid-week a bit sweeter for some of you ;)

Part 1

“Alright, kids. Let’s have a trip.”

And you just stared.

…what?

“W-what?” you stuttered, suddenly consumed by the familiar feeling of losing the firm ground under your feet at the idea of trying to confront Gregory head-on. Not even Steve at your side was helping at all as the four of you started walking towards the IT department.

“I-I don’t have any prove! I can’t-- he told me he would--- that he would-”

“That he’d twist it around, convince the HR that you were crushing on him and he turned you down, which turned you into a soulless bitch craving revenge?” the billionaire finished for you and you just uselessly opened you mouth, unable to let out a word to deny it. It seemed to amuse him, because he scoffed; and there was something very bitter in that sound too. “Kid, he’s not the first asshole to take advantage of his superior position. I’ve seen the types. Relax. If Cap here believes you, then so do I. Plus, I know a liar when I see one. And you ain’t lying.”

You breathed in shakily, a flicker of hope igniting in your chest. Could it really be so easy? That couldn’t be right…

“T-thank you, Mr. Stark. I-”

“Yeah, yeah, just name your first kid after me,” Mr. Stark uttered, waving it off.

The Falcon next to you chuckled and you shot Steve a confused gaze. Was that how Mr. Stark usually was? You had never met him in person; you had only ever heard him giving a speech on TV and you knew he had a certain reputation, but this was… different.

You were surprised to find Steve watching you; perhaps he worried about your reaction to such bluntness, since he had seen your outburst in the closet. Upon meeting your gaze – probably shy and undeniably surprised – he charmed a tiny smile for you.

“It’s gonna be okay, see?”

“What are you even worried about? You have three Avengers coming with you!” Mr. Wilson questioned lightly and you bit your lower lip as you thought of the source of anxiety indeed.

Yeah, I have three Avengers and they are all men. Sue me for not being sure which side they would take – not until now.

“You’re not a full-time Avenger, Wilson.”

Falcon gasped, clutching at his chest theatrically at Stark’s remark. “Ouch, Tony. My heart.”

You let out a breathy laugh at their banter and felt yourself relax despite your better judgement. You almost let yourself believe it truly would go alright. Well, as much as dealing with such shitty thing could.

“You’re all my heroes,” you whispered timidly, which earned you a bright smile from Sam Wilson.

“Thank you, ma’am.”

“Cruel, Birdboy. You stole the old man’s line,” Mr. Stark hummed, amused.

“Heh! Sorry, Cap. But I’m sure you have a whole set of other lines to use on her.”

You choked on your own spit as Steve faltered in his steps, his grip on you growing stronger. What the hell did the Falcon just say?

“Oh my God, Wilson, shut up before we get stuck with another harassment report.”

“I don’t think this a subject for joking,” Steve interjected, slightly irritated, and you shot him a grateful look, because he definitely had a point.

Except… once you weren’t in such a sticky situation, you totally wouldn’t mind Steve Rogers using a line on you. Not at all. And his hand around yours felt nice for multiple reasons, the wordless comfort and support only being one of them. It was warm and slightly calloused, a reminder of his physical work, and it was bigger than yours, so sweetly and distractingly enveloping yours…

But now it was so not the time.

Your peculiar group approached the office and you didn’t even have the time to brace yourself as Tony Stark simply threw the door open, not bothering to knock.

“Thomas Ian Gregory, you are fired this very second,” the billionaire exclaimed dramatically.

You would think he was just being a drama queen, except he sounded deadly serious, using your boss’ full name which he must have read out on the door, and his eyes were throwing daggers at the man sitting behind the desk, looking as if he was the fucking king of the world.

Your boss blinked in surprise and eyed all four of you; Falcon with his arms crossed on his chest, Ironman minus his suit with a murderous glare and a hand raised towards him as if he wanted to point a finger and then Gregory’s gaze fell on your hand connected with Steve’s; you wanted to retrieve it quickly, but Steve wouldn’t let you, his grip growing firm. Anger flashed through your boss’ eyes for a second, before he composed himself and rose from his chair with an innocently confused expression.

You wanted to puke and you felt your legs turning into a shaking mess of jello. This was it. Now he would use his slimy words to turn this situation around and you were about to get fired and humiliated so much that jumping under a bus would be the most likeable option for you.

“Mr. Stark, it’s an honour. Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson. What do I owe the pleasure?”

You couldn’t believe this--- this pig. Seriously. Who the fuck did he think he was?! How could he--- just lie so easily, pretending that everything was perfectly fine?!

But Tony Stark was not fooled by the charade and you mentally sighed in relief, sure they must have heard the weight falling off of your shoulders even in Jersey.

“I’m sure you heard me, Mr. Gregory. You quit and you’ll be hearing from the HR soon. And you’ll be damn lucky if this young lady right here won’t sue you.”

You honestly wished you were invisible when Gregory’s gaze flickered to you, subtle anger with a promise of consequences in his irises – consequences that would come should you not cut this bullshit right now.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Mr. Stark. If this is about the unfortunate feelings my assistant has for me-”

Tears of rage and baseless shame stung in your eyes at his words and you breathed in sharply to defend yourself; before you could, Gregory continued.

“Though I can see they weren’t very… honest. Obviously my inferior seems to be the ‘love them and leave them’ type, which I should warn you about, Capta-”

Breathless at his malicious made-out theories, you did not expect Steve to drop your hand in favour to tower over your boss, making him shut up with one single glare.

Alright, you could see why he had thought that simply appearing at your office would make Gregory tremble in fear. Your boss actually backed off and learnt onto a table, looking as if he was supporting himself under the weight of Steve’s judgement.

“I met this woman for the first time not half an hour ago, hiding from you, too scared of your dirty hands to return to her own workplace. Trust me, it left an impression, just like you are leaving one now,” Steve grunted menacingly, causing your heart to pound in your chest in fright even with his words not aimed on you. “If I can give an advice, you pack your things as fast as you can, apologize to her profusely, begging for her forgiveness and you don’t set a foot in this building or speak to her ever again. Do we have an understanding?”

You weren’t the only one affected. Your boss tried to reciprocate Captain America’s glare, but he failed miserably. He visibly gulped and circled his desk, still watching the soldier as if he was expecting to get hit; then his eyes just dropped to his desk and he frantically started picking random things from it.

You watched the scene in front of you, paralyzed. Your heart was beating its way out of your chest, pulsing in your temples, your breathing alternating between hitching and picking up. Your vision started to swim.

Holy. Shit.

“Cap, I think you broke her.”

Steve spun to you at instant, his eyes roaming your face; or you thought so. He looked worried now; or you thought so. Thinking and frankly evaluating the stimuli your senses were receiving was a bit difficult at the moment.

What the hell had just happened?

Gentle hands took yours, leading you out of the room. You blindly followed, unsure how to put one foot in front of the other, your body running on autopilot.

It was over. Thomas Gregory was no longer your boss and it had happened without you losing your job. And Steve Rogers had scolded him as if he was a five-year old kid – a very pervert one, but a kid nonetheless. Steve put a fucking fear of God into him. All of that happening within three minutes. And you just… couldn’t quite process all that.

You barely registered getting into and out of an elevator, being seated on a couch, having a blanket tossed over your shoulders and a cup of warm liquid pressed into your hands. You automatically brought it to your lips, only to be stopped by a tender fingers curling around your wrist.

“Careful. It might be too hot,” a pleasant voice warned you and you blinked, finally focusing your gaze, finding rather worried and very handsome face staring back.

You glanced at the cup, surprised to identify the drink as Steve’s hand let go of yours.

“Is that… is that hot chocolate?” you stuttered, bewildered. Well, more like… astonished.

“Yeah. You’re not allergic to milk or anything, are you?”

You looked up back to Steve’s face, only to find him with his brows furrowed in concern, lips thoughtfully pursed. It snapped you to action.

“No! No. It’s just… I didn’t have one in years. Thank— thank you.”

His expression cleared, as he was evidently pleased with himself. “Good. You’re welcome.”

The words fell off his lips so easily. As if he just hadn’t… hadn’t saved your career. Or your mental health, really.

You eyed the table by the couch, setting the cup down, only to fully turn to him. He seemed a bit confused at that; but God, you had something important to say and since you didn’t want to give up the blanket just yet, you decided to get rid of the mug at least to look less pathetic.

“No, Steve, I… thank you,” you whispered sincerely, feeling tears in your eyes for like a millionth time that day. His smile widened a little.

“You’re welcome. I’m sorry if I… if I scared you down there. It wasn’t meant for you.”

“You didn’t-” you blurted out in attempt to deny it and make him feel better, only to waver as his eyebrow rose, picture perfect of doubt. It made you chuckle at yourself self-deprecatingly. “It’s not your fault that I was… surprised by your little hulk-out. I guess I just didn’t see it coming.”

“Hulk-out, huh? How do you feel?”

You shrugged, exhaling slowly, thinking hard about your answer.

“Like I just watched my life take a way better turn that I would expect... and I’m still only watching,” you whispered honestly, which led to his face twisting in a grimace.

“Anything I can do?”

You couldn’t help it; you scanned your surroundings, realizing you were in something that looked fancy enough to belong to Tony Stark and was way too big to be part of an actual apartment. You ran your hand down the blanket covering your shoulders, reaching for the abandoned cup to blow on it softly and take a careful sip of chocolate. Steve’s questioning gaze observed you while you did so and you smiled blissfully into the cup as the delicious rich taste caressed your tongue.

“You mean besides comforting me despite being a complete stranger, getting my harassing boss fired and scaring the hell out of him, taking me to--- here, giving me a blanket and making the best cup of hot chocolate I had in years? Give me a second, I’m sure I’ll figure out something else,” you babbled and Steve’s smile grew, tense shoulders relaxing. “Seriously, Steve. This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I owe you. I- I know you’re a hero and all that, but… yeah. I should be asking you what I could do for you in return.”

“That’s not-- I’m not--- ...you make a pleasant company,” he said in the end as if he realized he couldn't deny any of the things you had listed. You lowered your gaze to the chocolate as his eyes twinkled at the statement.

“Ditto.”

“Does that-” he blurted out and you tilted your head to side, watching him curiously when he stopped talking just as abruptly. “This is a terrible timing, but that’s apparently an infamous quality of mine, because usually I wait too long, and… uhm…”

Your heart skipped a beat at the suddenly embarrassed soldier scratching the back of his neck, peeking at your through his eyelashes. Was that--- was he trying to-? No, it couldn’t be.

“Yeah?” you softly encouraged him to continue.

He wetted his lips, causing your previously tight gut to warm up.

“I understand that it’s the last thing you’re thinking about right now, but… when you settle down again... and things are a bit calmer for you… would you- uhm,  like to… maybe spend some more time with--- with me?”

If he had blurted the sentence in one go, you would have dropped your mug in surprise despite suspecting this incredible thing when he had turned bashful. But he didn’t so your brain had enough time to process the words slowly leaving his lips, one after another, little shy, little hopeful. Your heart was speeding up with each of them, ready to burst when he finished with a tiny nervous smile.

Well. How could you possibly say no to that irresistible creature in front of you? You smiled into your drink.

“Yeah, I’d like that.”

His face lit up. “Really?”

You wanted to chuckle at the pure surprise on his face, but it was just too endearing and so you had to fight the urge to make an embarrassing sound like an aww instead.

“Yeah, Steve. I’d really like that,” you repeated, hiding the teasing note in your voice. “But you’ve got to teach me how to make a chocolate that good, because seriously, it tastes amazing.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not?” you demanded, a bit hurt, rather surprised. “I don’t want you to give up your secret recipe right away! Just… in time.”

He grinned at you boyishly, leaning a bit closer to you. You held your breath in anticipating, a the change. “I could. But then I wouldn’t get to enjoy the process of preparing it for you and your smile in return.”

You stared at him for few moments, taking the statement in, wondering if he was teasing you or was being serious. The corners of his lips were quirked up as if he was indeed joking, but there was a certain spark of honesty in his eyes.

You decided to play along, whether it was a game or not. Perhaps it was the relief of newly found freedom from a sleazy man in your life that plucked up your courage and woke up your jovial side.

“Aww, Steve, that’s so sweet. Is that your way of telling me you’re planning on spoiling me? Because then I would need significantly less time to… settle down.”

His grin widened at your words. “Is that so?”

“Mm.”

“Well then…” he brought up lowly, torturing you with anticipation when he didn’t continue, only to watch you with a mischievous smile.

“...then?”

“What are your plans for Friday evening?”

Oh, you were so glad you were sitting, because otherwise the force of the moment in which Steve Rogers asked you out on Friday night would knock you down.

You tried to think of an answer that wouldn’t sound like an over-enthusiastic YES, but his blue eyes staring into yours made it very difficult for you.

Dammit, it was harder to talk to him when you could actually see--- you smiled smugly at the idea that popped up in your head and raised an eyebrow in silent challenge.

“I’m hiding in a supply closet. Why, you wanna join me?”

Steve burst out laughing, throwing his head back with that sound and the picture armed your heart so thoroughly it was unfair.

“Sure thing. Would you like me to bring muffins and coffee or do you prefer an actual dinner?”

You found yourself laughing too and you suddenly believed that your life would indeed get better. It already had, after all.

S.R. masterlist

Beautiful divider by @whimsicalrogers 

Thank you for the kind feedback on the first part and I hope you liked this one too :))

Thank you for reading!

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america x you #captain america x reader #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #mcu #marvel #in the strangest place we just might find love #anika ann

[bookwrm99]

Sweet Dreams pt. 1

So, I've had to switch my medication recently for my anxiety, and it's been a bit rough. I normally have a bit of a problem with nightmares because of stress, but since starting Effexor it's been like... on steroids. One of my ways of coping with my mental health is writing, so I've started working on an Obey Me! series of short fics with each of the brothers comforting an MC who's been suffering from long-term night terrors as a medication side-effect. I debated about whether to post them or not, but ultimately I feel like if they can be comforting reads to someone else in a similar situation to mine, of course I'd want to share them! So, here's part one with Lucifer. Please know this is based on my own personal experiences with my anxiety and medications- mental health isn't one-size-fits-all, and everybody experiences it differently on all fronts. Not everybody will experience anxiety the way MC does in these fics, and that's okay! MC is not meant to be representative of everyone everywhere who has ever dealt with having an anxiety disorder- I personally think such a thing is impossible anyway. That being said, please practice good reader discretion if mental health is a hard topic for you- the last thing I want to do is harm someone else's mental health with my writing. I'll post specific trigger warnings just above the cut, so you'll know exactly what you're getting yourself into before you continue!

Now that the long disclaimer is out of the way... I hope that you enjoy this small fic series, reader! It was cathartic for me to write, and I hope they can bring comfort to others too.

Genre: Comfort with Lucifer x gn!reader (if you squint)

Word Count: 2.2k

TW: Mentions of anxiety and treatments, depictions of anxiety and nightmare aftermath, descriptions of nightmares

Lucifer was worried.

Not that he would admit to it. He was the Avatar of Pride, and as such he had an image to maintain. After all, just because someone fails to reply to text messages and calls- or does something out of their norm, like skipping breakfast- it doesn't necessarily mean there's something dire afoot.

Still, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong. Lucifer tried to school his facial features into something close to neutral as his brothers fretted and discussed (Y/N)'s radio silence, and now their absence at breakfast. Mammon was the first to make a commotion about it, of course, causing the other brothers to slowly voice their own concerns about the resident human exchange student.

"I'm tellin' ya, it's just not like them! We ough'ta check on them. What if they caught some kind of weird human disease and died in their sleep?!" Mammon boomed out, fists clenched and resting on the table as he leaned forward over his plate.

"I highly doubt that, Mammon. I don't know of any human disease with such a quick onset and short incubation period before death. Still, it is a bit worrying. Should we make sure they're alright?" Satan, ever the voice of reason, spoke calmly, looking to the eldest to gauge his reaction to his question.

"Maybe they had a late start? I did suggest a new morning skincare regimen for them; maybe they've taken my advice?" Asmo practically crooned, no doubt preening at the thought of a small success with the exchange student- and probably thinking other impure thoughts related to them getting ready for the day.

"They need to make sure they eat. It's no good trying to learn on an empty stomach," Beel interjected, shaking his head and settling a hand on his stomach, clearly appalled at the thought of enduring that kind of experience.

Lucifer kneaded the small ache that had started to form between his eyes from his brothers' bickering and rapid-fire speculations. A sharp pain lanced through his skull from said place when Mammon brought his closed fists down on the table forcefully, rattling the dishes and forcefully pushing himself and his chair back.

"That's it, I'm checkin' on 'em! If all you guys are gonna do is sit around-"

"Enough, Mammon," Lucifer spoke, commanding the attention of all his brothers. A pregnant silence fell over the room as the Morningstar sighed, casually tossing his linen napkin onto the table beside his empty plate as he calmly pushed his chair back to stand. "I will check on them myself. The rest of you are to go about your days as normal unless you hear otherwise."

A couple of the brothers muttered angrily under their breath, but most seemed satisfied with the decision. Without another word, Lucifer strode from the room, leaving his brothers to clean up and be on their way to RAD.

When Lucifer reached (Y/N)'s room, his superhuman hearing picked up soft sniffles from within, heightening his concern about the human. He rapped his knuckles against the solid wood of the door, calling out their name gently but at a volume where he knew he would be heard. When he didn't hear them stir, and nobody came to the door, he resolved himself to intruding upon a potentially sensitive situation. "(Y/N), I'm coming in."

When he opened the door and took a couple steps across the threshold, he panicked a bit at first, not seeing any sign of (Y/N) in the room. Another small sniff allayed those fears, though, and he closed the door softly behind him, making his way into the space as he looked for the human. He finally found them curled up into a small ball on the floor in a corner of the room, out of sight of the door, their face pressed into their knees as they trembled.

The sight in front of him broke Lucifer's heart. (Y/N) had brought such brightness to his and his brothers' lives, showing them the utmost care and showering them with love they hadn't realized they were starved for. To see them like this- shaking with pent-up sobs and white knuckles as they squeezed their hands into fists- was a blow directly to the eldest's normally ice-cold heart.

"(Y/N)," he breathed, slowly approaching as if he was walking towards a frightened, injured fawn. His entire presence softened as he got down on one knee beside the upset exchange student, fighting the overwhelming urge to gently turn their face to his or pull them into his arms. "What's happened?"

(Y/N) shook their head, their arms tightening around their knees. "It's stupid. I'll be fine. Please don't worry about me- I'll be down for breakfast soon."

Lucifer's face pulled down into an even deeper frown at their words, bothered that they were so quick to invalidate themself and push comfort away. "Well- that's why I'm here. Breakfast was over an hour ago, and my brothers are worried about you."

(Y/N)'s head shot up at that, and for the first time Lucifer got a good look at their flushed, tear-stained face. "God- I'm so, so sorry, I didn't mean to worry anybody- I'm such a burden-"

Lucifer made hushing noises, and unable to restrain himself anymore he sat fully on the ground, pulling the human into his arms as they hiccupped and began to sob. When they didn't push him away and began leaning into him, he tightened his hold, rubbing small circles into their lower back as their tears soaked his left shoulder, all the while murmuring soothing words in their ear. After what seemed like a small slice of eternity, but what in reality may have only been fifteen minutes or half of an hour, the exchange student's tears slowed, then stopped altogether, though silent sobs continued to wrack their smaller frame.

Lucifer lifted his head from where he had rested it on top of theirs, leaning back slightly to see their face as he gently tilted it towards him. Red eyes looked back at him, glazed with exhaustion and something else he couldn't quite pinpoint. Reaching up with a gloved hand, he gently cupped their face in the palm of his hand, wiping away the tears he could reach with his thumb.

"You aren't a burden, (Y/N). You go out of your way for myself and my brothers, doing things nobody asked of you to lift us up and make our lives easier. We've needed somebody like you for a long time now, and if anything we are a burden on you. We worry about you because we care." Lucifer broke the silence, his voice gentle but leaving no room for argument. "I won't push you into telling me what's wrong... but if you would like to talk about it, I promise I will do everything in my power to make things right."

Their eyes wavered, then shifted to the side, a frown continuing to mar their beautiful face. "Lu, I... it means a lot to me for you to say something like that. I just... I don't think there is anything you can do, or anybody for that matter, and not for lack of wanting to."

(Y/N) paused for breath, and Lucifer waited, sensing their internal debate about disclosing their struggle to him. Finally, they sighed, sagging against him as if all the strength had just left their body. "You saw my file," they said flatly, their head against his chest. Lucifer tightened his hold around them once again, pressing his face to the crown of their head and making a small sound of affirmation.

"Did it say anything about my anxiety disorder?"

Lucifer paused. Yes, he had noted that there was a mental health condition in their profile- generalized anxiety, with therapist notes stating it had a strong social skew- but it had never come up in conversation with (Y/N) before, and with how bright and happy they usually were, he thought they might be in remission- either that, or managing it extremely well.

(Y/N) continued on before he could answer them. "Barbatos has been making sure I have my medication- which is great, since of all the SSRIs I've tried it's the only one that seems to help level me out. But, the bad thing is... my doctor didn't tell me that a lot of people experience nightmares while on it, and ever since I've started it, it seems like I'm having them almost every single night." They paused for breath, their entire body tensing up, and Lucifer began to soothingly stroke their bicep with his thumb, where his hand had settled after they shifted. "Most of the time they're really vivid and... weird? Like, I had a nightmare a few nights ago that I was leading an expedition into the far North back in the human realm, and just as we were about to reach an Inuit settlement I got lured over the side of the boat by sea monsters and drowned... which has absolutely no relevance to my life experience. Obviously. But in the moment they're so scary-" They shuddered, then continued, almost as if they couldn't stop themself now that they had started speaking. "And then other times they're those really vague ones- like, running away from something through a deep forest at night, and suddenly you're falling off a cliff. But then there's, like, maybe 25% of them that actually are relevant to me- some of the worst periods and moments of my life- and those-" They almost choked on their words at the end, and Lucifer squeezed gently, worried they might start crying again.

When they stayed silent, Lucifer spoke. "How long has this been going on?"

There was a pause before the human answered, as if they knew he wouldn't be happy. "Since before I was brought here."

Lucifer was shocked. The exchange student had been here for several months already, and he was only just now hearing about this? Another pang lanced through his heart, wondering how many other mornings they had spent like this, and he deeply regretted the thought of them spending so many nights tortured by their own mind, all alone.

"You should have come to me sooner, (Y/N). You didn't have to suffer in silence." Lucifer's tone softened the words, and he again leaned back to get a look at the expression on the exchange student's face.

"I didn't want to be- troublesome. All your brothers have their own commitments and things they do, and you especially have so much on your plate. I didn't want to disrespect anybody's time."

Just when Lucifer thought things couldn't get worse, they did. He could hear their fear of being a burden, even with their carefully chosen words. The exchange student had put themself through months of agony, all because they hadn't wanted to trouble him. The revelation deeply disturbed him. A handful of months was nothing in a demon's life, just a blip, but for a human? That was a very long time.

"You are incredibly important, to all of us. Your struggles are never a waste of our time, even if you feel they're insignificant." Lucifer spoke firmly, trying to put every ounce of the conviction he felt into his voice. He reached up again to gently turn the human's face towards him, meeting their eyes with his own crimson ones. "Please, don't put yourself through something like this again. If I can bring even a small amount of the comfort you've brought me back to you, I would move the heavens to do it. Promise me."

Their eyes glimmered, and their bottom lip trembled. "I promise," they almost whispered, their voice choked up.

Lucifer impulsively brought his face closer to theirs, softly placing a chaste kiss on their forehead. The exchange student sniffled, bringing their hands up to wipe at their face.

"I will talk to Solomon and Satan about any potions they might know of to combat your nightmares. In the meantime, please come find me in the event that they wake you up in the middle of the night. I'm no stranger to night terrors."

When they acquiesced, he smiled, satisfied. "Now, get dressed. I'm informing Lord Diavolo that we're taking a personal day off- no buts." He spoke, already seeing the protest in their eyes and on their lips, which had parted on the start of a word. "We'll do whatever you want. My treat."

Their brows furrowed. "Won't you get in trouble?"

Lucifer stood, bringing (Y/N) up with him. "Not if I'm doing it for the exchange student's benefit. I'll give you ten minutes while I make the call." The softness the Morningstar had displayed was now gone, replaced with his usual composure as he began walking towards the door, fishing his D.D.D. out of his pocket as he moved.

"Lu?"

He paused at the door, turning back to look at the human. Their eyes were glimmering in the dim light of the room, arms wrapped around their waist. Lucifer thought they were about to cry again until he recognized the sheer gratitude in their expression.

"Thank you, for this- and for everything."

Lucifer showed a soft smile, just for them. "Anything for you, (Y/N)."

#obey me swd #swd obey me #obey me #obey me! #obey me! lucifer #soft lucifer #comfort #lucifer x gn!reader

[tartagilicious]

[CN] Kiro’s Show Contract Date (eng translation)

✨kirp ✨  

⭐️ this date contains spoilers for a plot not released in English yet!

⭐️ sorry this took so long, doing my junior year of high school online was a very bad decision 😔

⭐️ dedicated to @kudoriee​ @flowerpoem​ & @elainabearie​ , who had to witness me freaking out about this date for two hours straight lol

— 

Seeing the clock advance further every minute, I finally took a deep breath and made up my mind.

MC: If you break the contract, you break the contract… I can’t disregard his health.

I picked up the phone and was about to make a call to Savin when an incoming call jumped onto the interface faster.

Kiro: Good morning, Miss potato chips!

MC: Did your fever go down today?

Kiro: Ah….After taking my medicine in the morning, my body temperature has stabled. My fever’s gone down and my condition is much better than yesterday.

MC: That’s good. You have a good rest Savin and I will take care of this aspect of the show.

Kiro: Well, I know the boss is the best.

MC: In short, you still have to take your medicine today, so please pay attention to the time…

Kiro: I know, I know.

I urged a few more words out of him, but just as I was about to hang up, other voices suddenly seemed to come from the other end of the receiver.... The voices of Kiki and Anna?

MC: Wait wait, kiro, where are you now? Are you at home?

Kiro: Hey, you already heard it. Then should I just come directly in?

As soon as Kiro’s words fell, the door of the office next to me opened, and bright golden hair and his bright smiling face leaped into my eyes. His blue eyes are clear as promised, but the faint sickness under his eyelashes cannot be hidden.

Kiro hung up the call and cleared his throat.

Kiro: Although I said it on the phone, I have to say it again in person: good morning, Miss potato chips~

MC: Kiro?! Why did you come to the company?

Kiro: Of course, it’s because I have to come! Don’t I have to go to a show today?

MC: I was just about to contact Savin to talk about this. Should we cancel this big show?

Kiro: But if the business refuses to perform, won’t you get a big penalty?

MC: You don’t need to comment on the liquidated damages. You need to rest now. If this performance makes you more sick, we’ll have a real problem then. Your health and safety are the first and most important things to me.

Kiro: ...___

He watched me seriously and abruptly smiled.

Kiro: I’m really happy that you care so much about me, but I still want to participate in this big show. First of all, because I prepared a lot for this performance, I don’t want to give up so easily; secondly, um…

Kiro seemed to be unable to think of the second reason. His eyes were so wide for a minute that he grabbed my hand.

Kiro: Secondly, I’ll always do things that make you think I am doing the best, so… trust me.

When we arrived at the show, the place had already begun intensive preparations. Models gathered in the backstage, and everyone was looking gorgeous and brilliant. When Kiro walked in, it was obvious that his mask still covered most of his face, but everyone’s eyes were still chasing the bright light subconsciously.

Reporter: Kiro is coming!

Model: It’s Kilo!

Savin: Sorry, let’s go, let’s go-!

Seeing that various forms of media were coming forward, Savin hurriedly cleared the way ahead and sent Kiro and I into a single dressing room.

Savin: ___, I’ll go to communicate with the stagehands over the specific performance situation, please help me with Kiro.

MC: Ok, leave it to me here.

Kiro: Leave it to me too!

As Kiro said this, he gave Savin a saluting gesture.

I can’t help but laugh, and my nervousness eased slightly along the way. He took off his mask and let out a long breath.

Kiro: Then I'll change clothes first, see you soon!

MC: Okay!

Taking advantage of Kiro’s time to change, I got hot water in the meantime. After he came out of the dressing room, I put a cup of tea in his hand.

Kiro: This is..

MC: Although you say that you’ll be strong, your voice may not necessarily listen to you.

Kiro laughed after hearing my mumble.

Kiro: Maybe I can find new ways to sing and develop new songs after losing my voice…

MC: Don’t even think about it. I don’t want to have a broken voiced Kiro.

I glared at him pretending to be angry, and Kiro’s mouth was tangled, but he obediently took the glass in my hand and drank it.

MC: And along with that, you also need this.

I took out a box of lozenges from my bag and poured one into his hand.

MC: This, you should have one. Some time ago, I had countless experiences, and I depended on them to continue in life, otherwise I might be the inexperienced one today.

Kiro: Were you that busy some time ago?

MC: Yes, the company had to expand its enrollment again, and I saw countless scenarios again, I always felt like I was busy.

Kiro: But when I called you the day before yesterday, you said that you weren’t busy. Miss potato chips, this is being a bad head of staff, obviously you’re still better than me.

He stretched out his voice and “condemned” me. I quickly raised my hands and surrendered, turning the subject away.

MC: Okay, I was wrong anyway… You eat the lozenges first!

Kiro: You’ve got yourself a deal.

He put the candy in his mouth, his cheeks bulging like a hampster.

Kiro: This is also my favourite flavour!

For this big show, Kiro will sing two songs, one is the opening song and the other is the middle warm-up. The two songs are in a different pitch and style. Perhaps thanks to the lozenges, Kiro was in a very stable state during the afternoon rehearsal.

He even has the extra energy to discuss with the director how to integrate into the catwalk better and how to present a more gorgeous stage presence. He still looks energetic and he doesn’t have the appearance of someone performing while sick.

Until the end of the first song of the formal performance in the evening, while preparing for the second warm-up song, I took his temperature again. But, the results this time had me shocked.

Looking at the abnormal value on the thermometer, my heart was pounding, and I couldn’t help but call out to him.

MC: Kiro, you, how are you?

Kiro: Hmm? I’m fine.

His eyes were slightly out of focus. He raised his attention after hearing my question, but his reaction was obviously slower than usual. My worry fell into his sapphire eyes clearly, and he blinked.

Kiro: Is ___ worried about me?

MC: I’ve been worried about how you’re doing!

I handed him the anti-fever medication, and watched him drink the water in the cup without leaving a single drop. I couldn’t help but whisper,

MC: You promised you wouldn’t overwork yourself.

Kiro: You also promised to believe in me. Don’t worry, although I can’t play a lively concert for three hours, I can sing one more song!

He poses a few times like a superhero, but the makeup artist behind him pats his arms and signals for him not to move. Kiro stuck out his tongue, and suddenly seemed to think of something.

Kiro: By the way, can Miss potato chips give me another lozenge? I want to clear my throat again.

Kiro, who couldn’t move, opened his mouth to me confidently. But the cunning blue eyes obviously expose his intent -- it was deliberate. I reluctantly took out the bag and delivered the throat lozenge to his mouth. Kiro quickly took it away with his teeth, but accidentally rubbed away the lipstick on his mouth.

MC: Oops, the makeup is a little smudged! Don’t move and I’ll wipe it away for you….

As I said this, I quickly stretched out my hand, wanting to erase the blemish. Kiro’s face was so close that I could tell, the concealer perfectly covered his illness, and the foundation hid his weakness. In order to fit the stage makeup ordered by the big show, his already stunning face was carved into an even more beautiful face, and almost all signs of exhaustion were cut off.

Only when my fingertips touch his lips can I clearly feel his warm breath. It is as vivid as ever. I carefully erased that little flaw, and with satisfaction looked back at it.

MC: Alright, the prosperous beauty Kiro Zhou, you’re freshly baked!

Kiro looked at himself in the makeup mirror and raised his eyebrows.

Kiro: How many people do you think can handle being charmed by such a beautiful Kiro in one time?

MC: You’ve fascinated everyone in the city in a radius of about 500 miles!

The staff all around laughed at this sentence, and Kiro’s eyes flashed lightly, as if to say something, but in the end he didn’t speak. The staff came and knocked on the door to the dressing room, indicating that the next runway show was about to begin.

I finally adjust the decorations on his clothes, but I can’t help but say a few more words.

MC: If you feel uncomfortable in your throat, don’t force anything. You can do a lower tone. I believe in you as long as you try your best in your current state.

I spoke very firmly and honestly, and I knew he would understand what I meant.

Kiro: That… Miss potato chips, please come and cheer for me.

He opened his hands to me calmly, and I took into account the look he had just taken care of, and just wanted to give him a hug. In the next second, his powerful palm is placed on my back and I’ve received a full hug.

MC: Ki--

Kiro’s heavy head rested on my shoulder, and his hot breath brushed my ears, making my heart thump loudly.

Kiro: I don’t need the attention of everyone within 500 miles, as long as you watch me.

His voice is very soft, but it made my heart beat violently in my chest.

Kiro let go of me and raised his hand towards me, only to have me realise that at some point the box of lozenges were in his hand.

Kiro: This is my lucky item today, let it accompany me on stage!

After speaking, he put the sugar in his pocket, and amidst the sound of music and grand applause, he walked towards the runway. The prelude sounded, and the light followed him with his slowly moving footsteps. When Kiro hummed the first note, I had no choice but to pay attention like the others, completely immersed in his musical world.

He didn’t drop or change the key, but his slightly hoarse voice gave the old song a new charm. Models now wore new costumes of varying styles, passing by him like flowing water. It’s like countless planets orbiting the stars, and Kiro is the brightest one in the universe called the stage. At any time, it’s obvious that I’ll be pulled in by the gravity of Kiro.

The big show ended smoothly with a round of applause.

I just wanted to go to Kiro, but I met a media party who I had cooperated with before and had to accept a short interview offer. When I finally got out, I happened to see the most eye-catching figure in the crowd.

MC: Kiro!

Kiro was surrounded by models, and though he turned his head back to me, he didn’t seem to hear my call.  The models finished taking a photo with him, watched him eagerly, and handed a signature pen to him. After he finished signing, the group still didn’t leave, but asked something of him yet again.  

I hesitated, and when I didn’t know whether to call him again, Kiro seemed to sense something and turned to me. The moment he saw me, his eyes lit up and he waved at me. As I walked over, Kiro pointed to his throat innocently.

Kiro: I’m uncomfortable, ___, please come and be my translator.

Hearing his voice muffled, my heart immediately dropped.

MC: What do you want me to say?

He came close to my ear and whispered something.

Kiro: The casting of the new music video…

I suddenly realised.

MC: They want to fight for roles?!

Kiro: Now that they’ve seen the menacing male protagonist, of course they want to create an opportunity for themselves.

MC: I understand.

I smiled and expressed my gratitude to the models for their love of Kiro, and then I changed the topic and said to them in a more business-like tone:

MC: Kiro needs rest now. As for work, please ask your agent to get into contact with his. Besides, it’s not a matter if casting so much as it is something that can’t be settled in a short time

The models glanced at each other and were too embarrassed to interrupt, apologised to both of us, and left. After they were far away, I heard a light laugh from behind me.

Kiro: ...It seems that this trick is quite useful.

His voice clung to my ears with the fresh scent of candy on his breath, his words clear. I reacted instantly.

MC: So your voice isn’t hoarse at all!

Kiro: Shhh, keep your voice down! It’s hard enough to get everyone to leave, do you want them to come back? And with my “boss” as my aid, they’re too embarrassed to come and chat with me.

I looked around and found that indeed no one was trying to come over and talk to him. Maybe Kiro had great acting skills, because even his eyes after the show were a little sympathetic.

MC: Well, that’s reasonable… but what are we going to do now?

Kiro: Didn’t you just say you were tired? Let’s find a place to rest!

After speaking, he hooked my finger and quietly led us out of the venue together. No one was in the dressing room, and Kiro finally let out a sigh of relief after closing the door. Under the iridescent lights, even with heavy makeup, you can still the fatigue in his eyes.

MC: Kiro, have you been holding on okay?

Kiro: No, that’s why I asked you for help.

Kiro nodded arrogantly and pulled me into the dressing table.

Kiro: cough! I'm dizzy, flushed and can't lift my hands anymore. could i please trouble ___ to remove my makeup?

He blinked as he spoke, and his pupils were so bright that I couldn’t find any reason to refuse.

MC: Then sit down, and I’ll look for something to remove the makeup.

I searched for makeup remover and cotton pads in the makeup cabinet, washed my hands, pushed my hair behind my ears, leaned down slightly, and motioned for Kiro to close his eyes. When he raised his head, the glitter and tich colours at the centre of his eyes were soaked in lotion -- revealing the original skin tone.

It was as if the most exquisite porcelain had been burnt for a moment, his fair complexion showing a strange flush. My heart tightened and I almost blurted out advice.

MC: Kiro, you really need to take a good rest… I’ll tell Savin to push back all of the work ahead of you.

Kiro: In fact, Savin has already promised to let me take a short vacation, so i estimate that you’ll receive word in a while.

MC: Fortunately, this time I’ll let him supervise your itinerary and put you at home for a good rest.

Kiro: Just rest?

MC: ..What else?

Kiro: Since getting a holiday is rare, it’s better to have a little fun.

MC: Interesting.

Kiro: Yes! I bought the limited edition of the game that was released last month, but I haven’t opened the packing yet; there’s also a particularly good looking comic that i’ve stocked up on, and this time i can catch up; and you can catch up on the new episode of my TV series that aired a few days ago!

He used his fingers to count every single activity he could so one by one, and I couldn’t help but rub the tip of his nose with the cotton pad.

MC: Then let the bag of lozenges and your cello also accompany you?

Kiro: That’s better! But well,.. This kind of vacation can only be regarded as substantial, and is a bit short of being “fun”.  It would be more interesting if the video game could be completed as a team; if a TV series and comic books can be consumed with someone to talk about them with, it will be more interesting. When cats tease dogs, I think they’ll eventually become friends.

Kiro opened his eyes, and my reflection was clear in his bright pupils.

Kiro: I think that would be “interesting”.

Kiro looked at me seriously and made a genuine invitation.

Kiro: So in the coming times, will Miss potato chips continue to be my “translator”?

Being watched by such a pair of gentle eyes, it is impossible for anyone to look away, let alone say a word of rejection. The interesting life he constructed is also the interesting life I've experienced.

MC: Ok.. the “translator” may not work around the clock, but I can come after I get off work and I can be your “fun explorer”.

When he heard the first half of the sentence, Kiro’s brows furrowed, but after I finished speaking, he smiled again.

Kiro: Then I have to listen carefully, what’s a “fun explorer”?

MC: The literal meaning is that I’ll do everything that you want to do with you.

Kiro: Really?

MC: Yes! But for the sake of your voice, this explorer will strictly supervise you during the vacation, and you aren’t allowed to eat any heavy sweets!

Kiro: Ah, why’s this? I still want to secretly have a snack party with you!

Kiro pretended to be frustrated and extended the ending sound of his words, but did not refuse my concerns.

Kiro: Then let’s promise, we’re now holiday partners!

He stretched out his hand and pressed my thumb to his. It seems to have stamped an agreement that spans time in my heart.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mr love queen’s choice #mlqc kiro #mr love queen’s choice kiro #translation #spoilers #恋与制作人 #恋与制作人 周棋洛

[bluehhj]

listen to me — chapter 46

LISTEN TO ME — 0046

listen to me masterlist;

WORDS: 1.7K

Hyoyeon closed her eyes and allowed herself to doze for the first time since sitting on one end of the small sofa in front of Jisung's bed. Her elbow resting on the arm of the soft furniture supported her cheek against her hand. The rings on her fingers bothered her, but she was so tired that the little red marks on her skin made no difference, nor did the sunlight streaming through the half-open window reflect weakly on the opposite wall.

It was about nine thirty in the morning and Jisung hadn't yet woken up. Hyoyeon had been there for a long time, waiting for him to finally open his eyes, but the fatigue of a sleepless night began to truly affect her, sometimes dispersing her focus. A nurse visited the room, hours earlier and offered coffee and some cookies along with a polite request for her to lie down and get some rest, but Hyoyeon just accepted the disposable cup and claimed to be fine. Now, however, it was more than apparent how much she needed at least one pillow to avoid the stiff neck the bad position would give her if she insisted on staying at it any longer, even though her last will was to open her eyes and abandon her own short and fragile moments of sleep. Anyway, those moments were interrupted by the sound of the door opening. Hyoyeon jumped in place and was forced to straighten when she noticed the presence of a nurse, or perhaps a doctor, she didn't know.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," the girl apologized. Although her vision was slightly blurred from sleep, Hyoyeon assumed the girl was about the same age as Chan and Woojin. She was of medium height, had blond hair, and in her lab coat was a sign with the name Jung Jinsoul written on it. "I just came to know if you don't want to go to the bathroom or eat something. I'll stay by the kitty's side," she referred to Jisung with a minimal shake of her head as she said the last sentence. Her tone was so casual that Hyoyeon didn't even know if she was being pretentious or not, but the highlight was that Hyoyeon couldn't take the urge to go to the bathroom anymore.

"I need to go to the bathroom," she got up without question, determined to use the bedroom's own toilet. Her feet, however, stopped midway and she looked at the girl before saying: "Take good care of him, I'll be right back."

"Yes, ma'am." Jinsoul waited for Hyoyeon to close the door to approach the bed. She kept her arms crossed for the seconds her eyes traveled over Jisung's slightly injured face; finally, she let out an audible sigh. "It wasn't enough that pretty girl, now you too... What a sin, my God."

And as if Jinsoul's tiny intonation was the last thing left to penetrate Han's mind and finally bring him back from unconsciousness, Jisung's eyelids fluttered and he slowly opened his eyes. The natural light bothered his pupils for the next second, resulting in a grimace followed by a brief moment of dispersion until he noticed the serum needle stuck in his skin and the bandages on his shoulder. The intense pain spread through his head as memories of last night took shape. Jisung, then, ignored any discomfort as he quickly lifted his body and sat on the mattress.

"Take it easy, kitty," Jinsoul warned, though she made no attempt to approach to try to stop him. "You're fine, but not so much."

Jisung ignored her too and looked around the room. When he saw that no one else was there — at least not in his field of vision —, he had no choice but to ask the doctor: "My girlfriend, do you know if she's okay?"

Jinsoul parted her lips to answer, but was intercepted by the sound of the bathroom door being opened. Hyoyeon walked in quick steps and sat in a free space of the bed, then wrapping her son's face in her hands and checking to see if he was really well.

"Is something hurting, my love? Do you want me to call your doctor?" she asked, distressed. However, the last thing Jisung cared about at the moment was his health.

"Mom, I need to see Jinah" he took her hands off very gently, but Hyoyeon knew it wasn't rude. An almost palpable anguish was explicit in every trace of Jisung.

"You can't, baby. For now, the visits haven't been released yet."

"But she's fine, isn't she?"

Hyoyeon rubbed one hand in the other, unable to sustain Jisung's urgent look. There was a slight bruise on his cheek and a small bandage on his forehead, the latter almost hidden by his hair, and never had something so simple captured the woman's attention in such a crucial situation, although she only wanted to focus on anything but answer that question.

"Mom!" he insisted, becoming even more agonized over the delay.

Hyoyeon pressed her lips into a thin line and, finally, nodded yes. "She's fine, just needs a lot of rest," she lied. Her initial intention was not to deceive him, but she feared that Jisung wasn't well enough to deal with the truth. "And you too, lie back down."

"It's a lie" he found the obvious. "You don't even have the guts to look me in the eye to say that!"

Hyoyeon fumbled all over. She had about three seconds to make up another lie — one more convincing this time —, but acting under pressure was far from one of her skills. But if any bullshit would come out of her mouth when she opened it again, Hyoyeon would never know, because, before that, Jinsoul intervened:

"It's better to say it all at once. He'll find out anyway."

One part of Hyoyeon wanted to be irritated by the doctor's intrusion, but the other part knew she was absolutely right. Handling a time bomb seemed a thousand times easier than admitting the inevitable.

"Promise me to be calm?"

"Just say it!"

"I figured you would answer that" with one last breath, Hyoyeon let the tension fade. She took Jisung's hand and wrapped it in a warm squeeze, intrinsically saying that no matter what, she would be there for him. "Jinah fell into a coma, dear," she said lightly and tenderly, pausing for her words to be absorbed. "I'm so sorry, for real."

She waited, but saw no change in the boy's expression for the next few minutes. Hyoyeon didn't know how long they had spent in the same absence of reaction, but, after what seemed like hours, he swallowed and painfully clenched his jaw. Their irises darkened and the fragile glow, just present in them, faded away, replaced by something much harder and sharper — that's when Jisung locked himself inside.

Hyoyeon felt his hand break away from hers. She was supposed to hug him, but, she didn't have the guts again. Of all the returns, this was what she least expected to receive, because, in all her life, Hyoyeon had never seen Jisung look so cold.

"Do you want to see her?" Jinsoul broke the heavy silence. However, not even her tempting suggestion was able to avert Jisung's impassive eyes from the white wall in front of him.

"I thought she couldn't receive visitors for now," Hyoyeon retorted, somewhat confused. Jinsoul just shrugged.

"I'll find a way."

Jisung answered nothing. His mother was startled when he took the serum out of care, got out of bed and put on the cotton shoes the hospital offered to the patients; then, he opened the bedroom door and left. Hyoyeon shot an insulted look at Jinsoul, who shrugged a second time.

"I'm just a physiotherapist, Mrs., Han," she replied and spun on her heel, also leaving the room. "Wait for me, kitty, I'll show you where it is."

The road to the ICU wasn't very long. Hyoyeon joined them at some point and had to work hard to keep up with the pace of the walk — reminders that she was no longer in her twenties being thrown at her face as her breathing grew more and more unregulated. She could only breathe normally when they entered the elevator, but not two minutes passed before the metal doors opened on a less crowded floor. Every room had a glass opening in the wall, so that people passing down the hall could see part of what was happening inside. Since most of the blinds were closed, Hyoyeon could see only one gentleman in one of the beds, until Jinsoul shoved her hands in her coat pockets and stopped in front of a completely uncovered opening.

"I can't let you in, but..." is already something. The physical therapist left the rest of the sentence in the air and waited for Jisung to approach.

Heart pounding, almost shrinking to a halt, Han shortened the distance from the glass and felt his legs go strong as gelatin as his eyes fell on the single bed. He snorted almost imperceptibly, and his rigid posture barely collapsed into a million insignificant shards.

This wasn't his Jinah, couldn't be.

The always smiling, mischievous face was purple and swollen thanks to the amount of bruises on her skin. Her equally injured arms were filled with bandages and threads that controlled her vital signs, the latter connected to the various devices against the wall. There was also a serum holder and a blood bag, as well as a thick tube attached to an inhaler mask that covered her mouth and nose.

Jisung tightened his grip on his jaw and stepped back, not crying, not showing himself even more useless than he had the night before.

He shouldn't have drunk, shouldn't have asked Jinah to drive instead, shouldn't have let her driving even noticing that the car was behaving strangely, and worse: Jisung shouldn't have been so weak when he tried to stop her to sacrifice for both of them, but he was, and now it was late.

For Jinah, he didn't want to continue to feel like the most failed person in the world. He was trying hard not to cry or to fall into utter despair — at least on the outside, since inside Jisung crumbled and the rubble seemed endless. He didn't need an exam to make sure his heart was bleeding, the absurd pain in his chest was more than enough. Stunned, he took one more step back, and his trembling legs almost gave way before he could muster a little strength to get away from it for good.

Jisung already felt as if he had lost her; consequently, he also lost himself.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids au #skz au #stray kids angst #stray kids fics #skz fics #stray kids fluff #stray kids imagines #skz imagines #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #stray kids scenarios #skz scenarios #skz smut #stray kids smut #multifandom #bang chan #woojin #minho #changbin #hyunjin #han #jisung #felix #seungmin #jeongin #kpop #kpop au #listen to me

[impracticaldemon]

The Road to Tokyo

Hakuouki fanfiction by impracticaldemon

Words: ~ 3200  Read also on:  FFN | AO3

Author's Note:

I decided to add some more to last year's story about Chizuru reuniting with Saitou after being told that he'd died in Aizu during the war (see “The Ghost” and “Reassurance”). The story is technically an AU, as it doesn't follow any of the canon good or bad endings for Saitou's route in the game. I note that, unlike in real life, I have had Saitou keep the name he had with the Shinsengumi post-imprisonment.

This is, in part, a promo-teaser-trailer for the upcoming SaiChi & Friends event that I'm co-hosting on tumblr. I hope you enjoy it!

~ Imp

The Road to Tokyo (or, Chapter 3 of "The Ghost")

Saitō stayed with Matsumoto-sensei and his wife for a week. Chizuru knew that he would have preferred not to impose on their hospitality for so long, but it wouldn't have been fair of her to leave without at least a few days' notice, and she was determined not to let Saitō leave without her. She'd found it difficult to sleep the night of his arrival—and every night since—for fear that he'd have vanished in the morning. Her emotions were still very near the surface, despite her best efforts, and she hated the way they seemed to swing from joy to fear almost at random.

Her conversation with Matsumoto-sensei about her decision to travel to Tokyo had gone better than she'd expected. She'd worried that the doctor might be upset, or even insulted, that she would choose to leave the security of life at the clinic for the uncertainty of travelling to the new capital without knowing what awaited. She'd also worried that he might—in her best interests—insist that Saitō's protection would be insufficient, or even improper. After all, it was a long trip to undertake with a man that she hadn't seen in two years, especially one who was neither relative, nor husband.

Her fears had proven largely unfounded, to a large extent because Saitō had evidently already considered the situation and decided on a course of action. The day after his arrival, Chizuru had found him in the kitchen preparing tea, even though it was very early, and Chizuru had been there to start breakfast. In retrospect, she realized he'd been waiting for her, although how he'd known she'd be there was unclear.

It had been an awkward moment, since Saitō had gone silent after the first polite greetings, and Chizuru had been forced to turn away to conceal tears of relief that he wasn't just some kind of delusion. That's when Chizuru had discovered that the tea was almost ready, and for some reason she'd frozen completely, unable to think coherently, or move. Saitō had gently turned her to face him at that point, although he'd remained mute for several more seconds before voicing—or at least introducing—his proposal.

"Yukimura-san, are you still of the same mind—that is, will you still accompany me to Tokyo?"

"Yes… yes, of course, Saitō-san. And please—please use my first name. I would prefer it." She hadn't thought to mention it the day before, when there'd been so much else to think and feel.

"…Chizuru-san?" She'd indicated no, that still wasn't quite right, and he'd finally managed, "Chizuru?" The extreme hesitation in his voice had made her want to laugh, but amusement had been immediately doused by sadness. She still mourned those who had used her name almost from the beginning: Heisuke-kun, of the bright smile and kind heart, and Harada-san, who had comforted and protected her, and Okita-san, who had mocked her, and pushed her—in good ways and bad—and needed her care. Fortunately, Saitō had continued almost at once.

"Would it be acceptable to you—do you think we might—for now—make a promise to marry?" He'd been visibly embarrassed, which was unlike him, and his voice had been almost too quiet to hear by the end. When she'd stared at him, bereft of speech, his colour had deepened even further, and he'd hurried to explain his sudden question. "I wouldn't ask—I know it's much too soon—except that it might make things easier with Matsumoto-sensei, and… in general. With officials, and others. For travelling, and so on."

Chizuru had been flustered, and undoubtedly just as red-faced as Saitō, but her answer hadn't been in doubt. She'd tried to make up for her initial stunned reaction.

"Yes! I mean, yes it would be—more than acceptable—but… are you sure you don't mind?" Then she'd cringed inwardly at herself. Of course he didn't mind, since he'd asked. Saitō wouldn't say something like that if he didn't mean it. Would he?

"I don't mind… That is—thank you for agreeing." He'd seemed genuinely pleased, and Chizuru had marvelled that after all the time apart, and so much grief, neither of them had had a change of heart.

It had probably been comical, from the outside—two awkward individuals, trying to express happiness at the prospect of being engaged. They'd done better after that, though. Saitō had managed a rueful smile—but a smile!—and then they'd been in each other's arms, the tea-making forgotten while they held each other. It was a balm and a blessing that Saitō seemed less aloof now than before—Aizu had changed him, a little, or maybe he'd just had long enough to think it all through. Fortunately, nobody had walked in, or if they had, Chizuru hadn't noticed.

Chizuru had spoken with Matsumoto-sensei after breakfast. He'd expressed surprise over the engagement, and genuine regret that Chizuru would be leaving the clinic, but on the whole, he'd taken it very well.

"It's the first time I've seen you smile in a very long time, Chizuru-chan," he'd told her seriously. "And besides, I've gotten to know you rather well over the past two years. I wish I knew Saitō-san better, so that I could be sure that he would take care of you, but I'm certain that you'd ignore any warnings or admonitions I might give you at this point regardless, so I might as well be gracious about it. This way, I know you'll write to me, both while travelling, and when you reach Edo." Matsumoto-sensei hated referring to the new capital as Tokyo.

He'd teased Chizuru a little after that, but kindly, and he'd assured her that he'd help in case there was any dispute over the house. Best of all—and Chizuru had been overwhelmed with gratitude—he'd promised to write letters of introduction to two colleagues in Tokyo, certifying that Chizuru had worked with him and had solid skills in basic medicine, including familiarity with both herbal remedies and Western medicine. Between that, and possible contacts among her father's former patients, Chizuru now felt more at ease about not being a burden on Saitō once they got to Tokyo.

For his part, Saitō had said very little to Chizuru about his subsequent, rather lengthy conversation with the doctor. If it had bothered him to answer questions about his intentions toward Chizuru, as well as personal questions about the true state of his health and fortune, he hadn't let it show. Truth be told, Matsumoto-sensei had found him a little difficult to fathom. In the end, he could only hope that the impassive young man cared about Chizuru as much as the girl evidently cared about him.

On the day of their departure, Chizuru rose early enough to make breakfast for the doctor and his wife. They'd given her a home for two years, and she was grateful. She assured them that she would write whenever she could, and that she would pray for the safe homecoming of various relatives still held in custody by the Meiji government. Saitō thanked them as well, his formal bow expressing not only his personal gratitude, but the gratitude of the now vanished Shinsengumi. Matsumoto-sensei had been a loyal friend.

Eventually, Chizuru found herself passing through the gate at which Saitō had appeared just a week before. She was assailed by a feeling of unreality, and not long after, she found herself reaching for the back of Saitō's coat. He must have sensed her movement, because he turned immediately, looking concerned.

"Is there a problem, Chizuru?" He'd become better about using her name now, although it was still new enough to make her at once warm and a little shy.

"No, Saitō-san." When his blue eyes continued to search her face, she decided it would be best to be honest. "I am just… very happy to be here with you. Sometimes it still feels like a dream, and I get anxious that you might go away and not come back." Again.

"I see." His face revealed very little of what he was thinking, but after a moment, he held out his hand. "There won't be many travellers on the roads, given the time of year. If you wish, I will hold your hand, so that you know I am with you."

Chizuru blushed at the unexpected offer. Tentatively, she took Saitō's hand. It was warm, despite the chilly air, and still noticeably calloused from so many years of using a sword. "Thank you, Saitō-san. I'm sorry for being so, um, strange about this."

"Īe. It is fine." He looked down at her, and she was reassured by the lack of either impatience or annoyance in his calm expression.

In the end, they held hands for most of the morning. It was so pleasant, and so reassuring, that Chizuru found herself tensing when they finally came across other travellers. To her surprise, Saitō kept his fingers firmly around hers, and showed no sign of letting ago. The older couple in the small ox-cart nodded politely to them, and if the man's eyes narrowed suspiciously upon making out the just-visible hilt of Saitō's sword, the woman smiled warmly at Chizuru, who immediately found herself smiling in return. She blushed when the woman winked at her, though.

Once the cart had gone by, and was slowly fading from sight behind them, she glanced up at Saitō, to find him looking pensive.

"Saitō-san?"

"…I believe that I will worry people less, now that I am travelling with you." Seeing that she didn't quite follow his train of thought, he added: "The roads are not very safe at the moment, as many were displaced by the war, and the northeast is still short of food. Also, the Imperial Army was large, and had its share of deserters; some of those men would not be welcome if they returned home." Chizuru sensed no particular contempt in Saitō's words, merely blunt assessment, but it was hard to know for sure what he thought.

"I had heard that there have been bandits on the road to Edo," she said cautiously.

"Tokyo," Saitō corrected gently. "The difficulty is that I look like I could be such a person."

Chizuru was immediately indignant. "No you don't! And besides, you would never stoop to—to—robbing people! It's just—obvious!" She came to a full stop, in order to emphasize her point.

Saitō looked at her in mild astonishment, then smiled. "I had… forgotten. How you perceive things." He cleared his throat, as though trying not to laugh. "My appearance has improved over the past week, thanks to your care, and that of Matsumoto-sensei and his wife; however, I believe that a more, ah, a more nervous observer would find my age, attire, and weapon of concern."

Chizuru frowned. Thinking about it more calmly, she could see his point, although she felt that a person would have to be very nervous not to appreciate Saitō's true nature. His clothes might be a little worn, but they were neat—not to mention clean and mended now!—and perfectly tidy. As for general appearances, surely nobody could find fault with his features, which were rather elegant—if a little thin—and in no way like a ruffian's. Perhaps she should have worked up the courage to ask to trim his hair—

"Yukimura? Ah—Chizuru?"

She blinked back to full awareness with a slight start, and was embarrassed to discover that she was staring fixedly at Saitō, her hands clenched into determined fists at her sides. Saitō was looking self-conscious, and a hint of red in his cheeks suggested that some part of her thoughts must have been visible on her face. Her own cheeks started to burn, and that probably would have made things even worse, but just then there was a faint cry for help from somewhere behind them, and they turned in unison, Saitō's hand falling automatically to the hilt of his sword.

It was late morning—surely an unusual time for banditry—but with the cold, and the absence of other travelers, perhaps the ox cart had made a tempting target. More likely, it was an accident with the beast drawing the cart, or with one of the wheels. Either way, Chizuru began to hurry back the way they’d come. Saitō immediately caught her shoulder.

"I will go first. Stay back, and be cautious."

"Hai!" Chizuru reached unconsciously to touch the hilt of a sword that she wasn't wearing, and had to remind herself that she was no longer a page with the Shinsengumi. Saitō's hand remained on her shoulder for a moment longer, and then he was past her, moving so quickly that she wondered if he had retained some measure of his powers as a rasetsu. Not that she'd be able to keep up either way, hampered as she was by her woman's clothing. At least she'd altered this kimono for travel, and wore leggings underneath against the cold.

It turned out that bandits could and did attack in daylight, when the roads were empty, and pickings were slim. Chizuru arrived in time to see one man holding a rifle, while a second stood guard over the ox-cart's owners with a drawn sword, and the third tossed items from the cart onto the road. The scene dissolved moments later, with Saitō's arrival.

They must have somehow missed his approach, she thought, as he effortlessly rid the swordsman of his weapon, knocked him sprawling, and put throwing knives—he was carrying knives?—through the hand and leg of the man with the rifle. He then closed with the third man, who appeared to be reaching for a weapon—whether a sword or a firearm, Chizuru couldn't make out.

Forgetting Saitō's command to stay back, she rushed to the couple kneeling at the side of the road, noting with dismay that the man was badly injured. He had a gash on his head, and his arm appeared to be broken, but he was still conscious, and looking murderous, rather than panic-stricken. His wife was clearly in shock, and had been roughly handled; Chizuru saw a bruise starting to darken under one eye. Tears in her clothing, and bleeding scrapes, suggested that she'd been dragged from the cart with far more force than necessary, and Chizuru felt a surge of anger.

"Knew your man for a soldier, miss, but damned if I expected a hero." The injured man was still surprisingly calm, although the sweat on his forehead betrayed significant pain.

She dove hastily into her bag for first aid supplies, but a shriek from the trembling woman beside her brought her eyes back up anxiously to check on Saitō. The former Shinsengumi captain was fine—unlike his opponent—but the bandit that he'd first disarmed had drawn a long knife, and was rapidly closing on Chizuru.

"Saw you two earlier," he growled, "an' I reckon your man would prefer ta keep ya in one piece."

"You're a fool to even try it," spat the ox-cart owner. "You're just going to get yourself killed."

"Shut it, you!" The bandit's hand had closed on Chizuru's collar, but he foolishly paused to aim a kick at the man taunting him.

Furious at the threat to use her against Saitō, and by the violence used against the cart owners, Chizuru snatched her scissors from the open medical supplies kit, and drove them as hard as she could into the bandit's closest leg. His agonized scream was cut off an instant later by a blow to the back of the head.

"Saitō-san!"

"Yukimura! Are you injured?"

They stared at each other over the bandit's unconscious figure. Blood was flowing freely down the man's leg, although Chizuru's blow didn't appear to have hit the artery, or any other significant blood vessel.

"She's fine, young bushi—though she's a lot more dangerous than she looks, it seems."

Chizuru immediately turned to the man and his wife in concern. "Oh! I'm so sorry—please, allow me to assist you! Your arm, and head—"

"What's she apologizing for?" the man asked Saitō, who gave a tiny shrug and turned away, his blue eyes not reflecting the calm he pretended. Chizuru might not realize it, but the blade in his hand had been aimed with killing intent. He'd changed his attack at the very last instant, and only because Chizuru had caused her assailant to stumble heavily. She'd saved the man's life—from Saitō, at least.

Eventually, they left the cart owner with his arm splinted, and his head bandaged, and the woman with the worst of her scrapes seen to, and recovering from her shock. She'd thanked Chizuru repeatedly for her care, and praised her courage. She'd completed the younger woman's discomfiture by adding that Chizuru had obviously chosen a strong, useful sort of man, who should be up to producing fine children. Meanwhile, Saitō had held a low-voiced conversation with the woman's husband that covered such topics as not wanting to delay their journey to Tokyo in order to look after formalities and paperwork related to the captured bandits. Saitō had made it clear that he'd gladly forfeit any bounty for the sake of remaining anonymous and free to travel.

Once back on the road, Saitō had taken the opportunity to regain Chizuru's hand—and to express his disapproval.

"You should not have gotten so close," he told her flatly. "I was in no danger."

"Gomenasai, Saitō-san." Chizuru hung her head. Now that the incident was over, she was feeling slightly sick—it had been a long time since she'd been in that kind of situation, and on top of that, she'd stabbed somebody. At the same time… if she hadn't been there, would the bandit have inflicted more harm on the nice couple before Saitō could subdue him? He must have been quite strong to recover as fast as he had from Saitō's initial attack.

They walked in silence for a bit, and then Chizuru was pulled abruptly from her thoughts when Saitō jerked her roughly into his arms and against his chest. It wasn't like him, and conveyed a great deal.

"…I should not blame you for my failure," he murmured against her hair. "It has been too long since I tried to fight without killing, and I misjudged. Gomenasai, Chizuru—he should never have been able to threaten you."

Chizuru couldn't respond; she was being held too tightly against Saitō's dark coat. But it pained her to hear the self-directed anger in his voice, so she finally made the effort to free herself—at least a little.

"You were wonderful, Saitō-san! You rescued everyone! Please—please don't be upset with yourself. I'll be more careful next time." When Saitō's embrace loosened enough for her to look up at him, she made the effort to smile. "Thank you for not killing anyone. I know they probably deserved it, and I know that they might end up dying anyway – as criminals. But thank you."

Saitō studied her carefully, then released his hold. Chizuru shivered involuntarily at the lack of his warmth, but she could hear other travellers approaching, and she knew that Saitō would be embarrassed to be caught in such an intimate pose—they both would, although privately she thought it might be worth it.

"Are you ready to go, Chizuru?"

"Hai!"

"…We are no longer with the Shinsengumi; nor are we with the army."

"I know. But you're still Saitō-san. I can't help it." This time her smile was unforced.

Saitō took her hand again, even though the other travellers were now in sight. "Let's go, Chizuru."

[END]

A/Note: Thank you for reading! I'm looking forward to SaiChi & Friends 2019 on tumblr from February 16 to 19, 2019. :) Also, please let me know if you'd be interested in seeing more of this particular "ghost" story

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#hakuouki #hakuoki #haku fanfiction #saichi #impracticaldemon #imp writes #saichifest 2019

[slashed-dreamzzz]

The slashers reaction when they find out there S/O is pregnant. Please

Alrighty

Jason

-Never before in your life would you have imagined yourself getting it on with a guy who just so happened to be a zombie. The obvious perk? No condoms to worry about. Or, so you thought. After a solid week of throwing up only in the morning, you began to realize how wrong you were. Hunched over the grimy toilet, drenched in cold sweat and panting heavily, you knew that this couldn’t stay hidden from Jason.  With much effort, you raised your head and slowly stood up, wobbling only slightly. You winced, feeling the beginnings of a headache coming on already. Fantastic. Heaving a sigh, you decided it would be best to wait until Jason returned home that evening to give him the news. Whether it was good or bad would depend entirely on his reaction. When he finally lumbered through the cabin door mere hours later, you still felt you weren’t ready yet, despite going over numerous ways to break the news to him. Setting his blood-flaked machete down by the door, Jason the walked over to where you were sitting, clearly expecting you to greet him with your lovely smile and open arms, your delight shining through and through. Instead, all you could manage was a weak smile, your shallow parlor revealing the toll the past week has been on your health. You looked weary, your sickness both literal and metaphorical. Ever observant, Jason tilted his head slightly in confusion, his adorable mannerism managing to quirk your lips up a smidge more. You dearly hoped Jason would accept this as you accepted him. Gesturing to the other worn out chair at the table, you softly told Jason to take a seat. Hesitating for only a moment, Jason heeded your words and took the other chair, his weight making it creak. You folded your sweaty palms together on the table, and took a deep breath. “Jason, I….I have something important to say.” You then looked up and into the eyes of his mask. “I’m pregnant, honey.” Your heartbeat pounded in your ears as the seconds ticked by with no visible reaction from Jason. Clenching your fingers together even more, you tried to choke down your tears, every fear you had imagined seemingly coming to life. Before you could utter out an apology, Jason rose from his seat and came around to your end. You didn’t dare look at him, too preoccupied with hiding your shame. He knelt down on one knee by your side, and it was only when he placed a large hand on your arm did you turn to look at him. Jason slowly made you turn your whole body to face him, and your fears were instead replaced with confusion. “J-Jason? What are doing-” and before you could finish, he brought his head against your stomach, encircling your form in his strong arms. You were struck speechless at this gesture, as it said everything that Jason could never articulate. A promise to love. A promise to stay. You sobbed, and wrung your arms around his neck as he nuzzled into your middle, silently pledging to protect you and this unborn child so long as he walked this earth.

Freddy

- The thing with Freddy being a demon was how you foolishly believed that such an inhuman individual could never procreate with a normal woman such as yourself. But how normal could a person be when they willingly slept with a dream demon nearly every night? And reveled in the debauchery? Nevertheless, you bought a pregnancy test on a whim anyway, not expecting anything to come of it. You nearly choked when you saw the two betraying pink lines on the pregnancy stick, complete and utter shock filling your system. Swallowing audibly, you hunched over your bathroom sink and began taking deep, heavy breaths. I’m fine, you thought. This isn’t the end of the world. All the same, a cold ball of dread took residence in the pits of your stomach. More than anything that was racing through your overactive mind, one thought stood above the rest in the sea of turbulent fears and trepidation surrounding an unexpected pregnancy. Freddy was not going to like this. Not. One. Bit. You almost dreaded going to bed that night, knowing that no matter how you broke the news to him, Freddy would be less than accepting of this recent development. In your heart of hearts, you desperately hoped you would be proven wrong. These thoughts did naught to help you fall asleep, only succumbing to dreams after hours of twisting and turning in your sheets. Upon waking in the all too familiar dream realm, you found yourself exuding a false sense of hope that Freddy would be at most willing to listen to your plight without disregarding you completely. The bar was set so low. And speak of the devil, as you were absorbed in your thoughts a familiar gloved hand swept away a few errant strands of your hair, deceptively gentle in its motion near your vulnerable face. Your eyes fluttered shut as a low chuckle resounded throughout your dream realm room, causing a small ache in your heart. “Hey there dollface. Took ya long enough to see me. Was worried I’d been stood up.”  Freddy’s husky voice rasped near your ear, his form leaning against your own on the bed. He’s so warm… You sighed in contentment, wishing the moment could just last without disruption. But alas, it wasn’t meant to be. Out with it then. You clenched your eyes shut. “I’m pregnant.” The hand playing with your hair immediately stilled, and you felt your stomach plummet. For once, Freddy had no wise ass remark. You felt the bed shift slightly as he stood up, already feeling cold both inside and out. “That’s….great, I guess.” You tentatively opened one eye. Okay, not the best reaction, but certainly not the worst. “So….What do you suppose we do?” You asked with hesitation lacing your voice. Freddy turned away from you. “’We’?” He snarled. “There is no ‘we’.” Cold fingers of fear tore at your soft insides. You felt sick all of a sudden. “….Why?” was the only thing you could think to articulate. Freddy gave a growl. “Do I have really have to spell it out? Being a father isn’t exactly my strongest suit…… You’re better off without me.” You flinched at his dismissive tone, your blood turning to ice. “Freddy,” you started, your voice rising as you got out of the bed, “I don’t want to be alone in this. I know your awful history with children. I get it. But you need stop running away from your failure and face it head on. This could be your chance….to start over. Please Freddy….do it for me.” A hopeful smile spread across your face, the first one since you realized you were now carrying life. Freddy shook his head, a grim look etched onto his face. “I can’t. It hits….too close to home for me. I’m sorry.”  Your smile dropped, that flickering flame of hope snuffed out. Tears pricked at your eyes, and you collapsed onto the bed. “Freddy…” you murmured, your head in your hands, “I think this is the one nightmare I’ll never wake from.”

Michael

-You honesty weren’t surprised when you discovered you were pregnant. Michael’s insistence of never using condoms was likely to blame, his persuasion skills more than enough to allow such leeway. But after several bouts of waking up in the morning only to puke, you really began to regret not being more steadfast in your attempts to get him to wear one. You didn’t know whether to chastise yourself or Michael. Just to be on the safe side, you purchased a pregnancy test and used it when he was out one day, the results proving what you already suspected. You stared at the two tiny pink lines, your mind for the most part absolutely blank. The one thing that managed to stick out was the question of Michael being a father. Did he even have the emotional capacity to care for a child? You sadly suspected it might be the case. Thoughts of what could be danced in your head, of Michael giving a faceless child a ride on his broad shoulders as they laughed in absolute glee. Then it switched to you and Michael pushing this child on a swing set, their cries of ‘Higher Mommy! Higher Daddy!’ echoing in your imagination as they swung closer and closer to the sky. Finally, your mind conjured up a sweet image of all three of you huddled on the couch, the child in your lap as you sat in Michael’s, everyone peacefully sleeping in a blissfully happy moment. Dazed, you shook yourself out of these saccharine daydreams, the gravity of your situation kicking in. All the imagination in the world couldn’t help in what you knew you had to tell Michael. Your gazed drifted once again to the test, and you couldn’t help but heave a huge sigh as you leaned against the dirty bathroom counter. Would…Michael even care? you wondered to yourself. You shut your eyes in exhaustion. There was only one way to find out. As you waited for Michael’s return home, you busied yourself with trying to fix the place up a bit. You were doubtful you’d be living here once the baby was born, but it couldn’t hurt to do a little spring cleaning. Once returning home, he found you caught in a cloud of dust hacking your lungs out. Michael stayed where he was until the dust had settled, and then he made his way towards your hunched over form. You waved away the remaining puffs of dust, unable to feel nothing but disgust for the state of the house. How Michael managed to take permanent residence here, you never knew. After your coughing fit was through, you couldn’t help but give Michael a love sick grin, never not happy to see his trademark mask. “Hey you! Sorry about that, just got bored and started doing a bit of impromtu cleaning…” you lied, hoping the guilty expression on your face wasn’t that obvious. Michael stood there in silence, but acknowledged your words with a slight nod of his head. Your smile faded a bit, and you folded your hands together. “There’s something I wanna talk about with you. Can we….just sit down on the couch?” Michael tilted his head slightly, but turned around and led the way into the living room. You followed, a sickened expression on your face. Once sitting down, you just blurted it out, too nervous to form a coherent segue into the topic. Michael sat there in silence, processing your words as you looked down into your lap, your clenched hands turning your knuckles white. You spoke again, words coming out in a nervous rush. “Michael, I’m sorry, that was too much to dump on you, maybe I should just-” but before you could finish, you felt him turn you slightly towards him, his grip gentle but commanding. Always one to obey, you turned to face him. Michael lowered his hands until they were hovering over your still flat belly, and expectant air to his movements. You gave a tiny grin. “Yeah. In there. Our own little creation, I guess.” Michael’s surprisingly warm hands descended onto your stomach, as if looking for the life form growing inside you. Rubbing it gently, you barely heard an inaudible sigh come from beneath his mask. You let out a breath you didn’t know you had bee holding in absolute relief, placing your own hands over his. “We’ll make this work. We’ll find a way,” you murmured, leaning your head onto his chest and hearing the regular, steady beat of Michael’s heart.

Leatherface

-What you thought was merely a bad case of food poisoning one unfortunate morning turned into a routine, one that attracted the attention of Ma after you kept refusing to eat due to your upset tummy. Eventually she sat you down one day and told it to you straight. “Honey, I know what you and my son get up to most nights, I ain’t dumb. Now, this constant sickness probably means only one thing; I do believe you’re pregnant.” You sat there shell-shocked, slowly processing Ma’s words in your jumbled mind. The more you thought about it, the more it seemed to make sense. Bubba never did remember to put a condom on, and you were always too….distracted to remind him. A twinge of nervousness wound its way through you, and you looked up at Ma with slight panic in your eyes. She immediately came over to smooth your locks, softly shushing. “ Shhhh, it’s alright now. If I know my son, I know he’ll be over the moon whenever you decide to tell him. We’ll gladly welcome a new addition to our family.” You shuddered a sigh of relief at those words, your worst fears abated for now. Unable to help wrapping your arms around Ma’s torso, you whispered your thanks and let her hold you for a minute. As the day went on, you slowly grew more and more excited to finally tell Bubba the good news. It was torture waiting for him to finish his daily chores of killing and butchering, but you managed to keep yourself preoccupied by imagining all the possible baby names you thought would be perfect already. It was only when you had complied a list that took up both sides of a piece of paper that you paused. You laughed and shook your head. Probably best not to get ahead of yourself just yet! It was around dinnertime that Bubba finally lumbered in through the door, his apron dripping with fresh blood and smelling of dirt, sweat, and rust. You didn’t care one lick about that, and ran up to him in a hug that almost made him fall over. Bubba squeaked at the sudden action, but quickly got over it as he warbled happily into the top of your head, crushing you in a hug of his own. After only a few seconds you were gasping for air. “Bubba, sweetie…I need to breathe. I love you but I love air too!” He loosened his grip but still kept you in his arms. You supposed today was more taxing than normal for him, poor thing. You leaned away slightly to look him in the face. “I have a surprise for you tonight,” you whispered to him. Bubba’s eyes lit up in excitement, and you giggled. “But you’ll have to wait until after dinner, okay? Can you do that, my sweet Bubba?” He nodded eagerly in agreement, elated at having something to look forward to (besides you, of course) after a long day. Dinner was for the most part uneventful, but Ma kept giving you a secret smile while Bubba was buzzing in his seat, looking like a little kid about to go into a candy shop. You helped to clear the table, and was about to help wash the dishes when Bubba finally dragged you out of the dining room, with you giving an apologetic smile to Ma on your way out. Once in the room you and Bubba shared, you took in a deep breath, and let it out with laughter. “Are you ready for your surprise, honey?” Bubba nodded his head fervently. You couldn’t help but let out a beautiful smile. “I’m pregnant.” Bubba went still. You stood there with an air of uncertainty, wringing your hands together. “I…just found out today and I wanted to tell you as soon as-” but before you could finish that sentence Bubba had lifted you into the air and was spinning you around, laughing in that endearing way of his. You couldn’t help but laugh as well as you hung onto his neck for dear life, pure happiness filling the air. When he finally set you down he peppered your face in kisses, and this only made you giggle even more. Perhaps it was too soon to tell, but you believed Bubba would do just fine as a father.

#jason vorhees #friday the 13th #freddy krueger #a nightmare on elm street #michael myers #halloween #leatherface #texas chainsaw massacre #slasher imagines #my writing

[bleedingcoffee42]

Absent- Part 33

Tracking tag

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Roy reached over and wrapped his hand around her clenched fist.  Hearing her distress, hearing her vehement questions made him realize she was still unsure about what had happened to her.  This hesitation wasn't just about finding the words to put in a report or protect him from statements that he could twist to feed his own self-loathing, this was genuinely about Riza not knowing what happened this morning.   It really was a dream, a dream she questioned ever aspect of even to the point of wondering if it really happened.   He wanted to support her through this and be the reassurance that she wasn't losing her mind.   “It's an alchemist's fairy tale, one that appears in most introduction to alchemy books, one you've probably read a few times and Henry had to as well.”

Riza wished she could feel that same confidence in herself that she had felt in that dream world, however speaking about it all made her scrutinize every word.    Living in the moment, riding the adrenaline and powering through the unknown, was easy in a dream where she knew things were not right.  Here, in reality, she was scared of the consequences of her words.   One misstep could wound a man she loved and reduce her faith in herself to distinguish between truth and imagination.  

Roy continued, seeing that his participation in this was needed, seeing that his contributions could help her in some way.  “The story goes that there was a archaeological dig at Xerxes back in the 1870s and they discovered a tablet with an inscription on it that read “descend into the dark abyss for the elixir of life”.   And being that 'Elixir of life' was what some of the ancient cultures called the philosopher's stone, the ruins were almost instantly overrun with everyone from alchemists to treasure hunters all looking for what they thought would be the long sought after mythical prize.”

Riza remembered this now.  It was another story, like the Philosopher from the East, that alchemists considered a romantic history of their science.   She looked to Roy as he continued, his face saying that he believed in her and that he was here to help her believe in herself.  

“After damned near destroying the ruins, the original archaeologist finally unearthed a well at the location of his dig.   A well.   “  Roy said and squeezed her hand.   She took a deep breath, more confident in her experience now that she could place where this information came from.  “Water was the 'elixir of life' referenced, not the philosopher's stone, and the tablet was once part of the structure housing it.   Eventually they determined the phrase was about embracing fears and things not being what they seemed.  An ancient idiom for looking at both sides of a situation, because the darkness is cold and the epitome of fear but you trust and rely on the liquid in the bucket you pull up from the depths.   On the surface it is bright and warm and comfortable, but you'd die without the water from below.   Two contrasting locations can occupy the same space, just on different layers.   And the moral of the story to alchemists is about verifying the source of Truth before accepting it's context.”

Riza didn't remember it quite like that, but Roy was so much better with words than her Father.   He was also giving her something more, his own encouragement woven into the fabric of that simple little story.   “And Henry, he was so moved by this story to engrave it on his coin?”

“A little bit of flair.”  Roy said and took his hand back.  Then he watched hers turn over and open, revealing the coin in question.  He looked it over, then etched it out on his notebook.  “I think it also was a way to get some credibility for his work.   There is nothing quite like using some proverb in a dead language to make yourself look like an intellectual.”

She could hear Roy's hostility in the snide remarks.   “This alchemy worked.   I don't understand how you can still be doubting the man's ability.”

“Riza, true alchemy is about deconstruction and reconstruction.”  Roy said and finished his sketch, Riza turned the coin over so he could see the back.   “This was a weapon, destruction, disguised as a advancement for mental health of soldiers.   The odds of someone being able to come out of this were not very high.   His research was incomplete, he could active this transmutation circle and put the victim in a coma, however once the body reacted to the chemical manipulation the equation changed.   The elements were unknown, hell they were always unknown.  He had no idea what level of chemicals were in the subjects body to begin with, it was risking a persons life to even activate this.   That's not alchemy, that's flippantly gambling with someone's life.”

She nodded.   It made sense.   Alchemists knew mass, atomic weight, density, components of alloys, atmospheric concentration of gases....however the level of chemicals a body was producing at any given time was not quantitative.    

“He made it work, most of the time.   However he was unable to reverse it.  All this...shit on the back is just that.   He couldn't know measurable amounts of anything after the brain took over and tried to fix an imbalance.   This isn't a switch.   He had no way to undo this and if he tried he would more than likely have caused some chemical reaction in the brain that would have killed the test subject.”  Roy shook his head.   “He was relying on the subject to find their way out of this, knowing it was a dream.  If they refused to leave and embraced that fantasy than they were going to be lost.  That was the summation of his defense when I questioned him.   If he was trying to cure a soldier of reoccurring, debilitating nightmares, and they could not help themselves out of it....he wrote them off as a loss and then bragged about the State not having to pay for care for this individual any more.   That they were too damaged to be of use to the Military anymore, anyhow.”

She took a deep breath.   No wonder Roy took offense to Henry, no wonder he went after him with all the power he had.  

“So Riza, I don't want to rush you...but I have to know.  How did you get out of this?”  Roy asked.  

“I had help.” She admitted. “Everyone I met gave me so much information, some useful...some not.  In the end though, I believed I was capable of alchemy and I drew your array and manipulated oxygen concentration in order to force my body to react to the increase of oxygen.   Override what was happening in my mind by threatening my own life.   However, if I really did it....you would have felt it if you were holding me.”

He heard the sadness, she had truly believed herself capable and that seemed to be what upset her the most.  It tarnished her victory over this life-threatening alchemy.   “You'd need to be conscious to activate an array, the energy needed has to come from the physical form.    However I think you were right to believe in your ability, I always have known you could do it if you wanted to.”

“I'm not a little girl anymore, Roy. You don't have to tell me you believe in me because nobody else will.”

“Riza, look at the proof.” Roy said and pointed at the coin. “You conquered this.   This was not meant to be a maze with an exit and you made your own.”

“It was a dream that I believed was real.”

“It was a test that would have killed anyone else.”  He replied.   “And as soon as you are ready we are starting alchemy lessons.”

She rolled her eyes at that.  “I told you years ago that I have no patience for that.   Why spend years studying to start a fire when I could just strike a match and be done with it and spend my time getting real work done?”

“Well I made a promise to someone I love to not teach flame alchemy to anyone, so you're just going to have to come up with something else you want to do.”  He said and started to doodle a picture of her.  “You can have oxygen manipulation without the spark I guess....I mean you already take my breath away.”

He grinned and she couldn't help but smile at that.   She wanted to say something but then laughed a little and walked back over to take her seat on the couch.   How he always knew how to derail her bad trains of thought was unreal. “Let's get back to work, sir.”

#fic #absent

[helpfulaspirations1]

Stormie Omartian} The Prayer of Praise

The Prayer of Praise Brings Healing and Transformation The more time we spend praising the Lord, the more we will see ourselves and our circumstances grow in wholeness. That’s because praise softens our hearts and makes them pliable. It also covers us protectively. The more the pliability and covering are maintained, the more quickly our hearts can be molded and healed. Praise and worship of God are always acts of will. We have to will to praise God even when we don’t feel like it. Sometimes our problems or the burdens we carry choke out our good intentions, so we have to make the effort to establish praise as a way of life. And it becomes a way of life when we make it our first reaction to what we face and not a last resort. Now is the time to lift up a prayer of praise to God for everything in your life. Thank Him for His Word, His faithfulness, His love, His grace, His healing. Thank Him for what He has done for you personally. Keep in mind that whatever you thank the Lord for — peace, financial blessing, health, a new job, an end to depression — will start the process of its being released to you at that time. In the Old Testament, the people who carried the Ark of the Covenant stopped every six steps to worship. We also have to remind ourselves not to go very far without stopping to praise and worship. For emotional healing and restoration, we have to be six-step persons and continually invite the presence of the Lord to rule in our situations. The Prayer of Praise Aligns Us with God’s Purposes Without praise we experience an eroding that leads to bondage and death. The Bible says, Although they knew God, they did not glorify Him as God, nor were thankful, but became futile in their thoughts, and their foolish hearts were darkened. — Romans 1:21 With praise, you and your circumstances can be changed, because it gives God entrance into every area of your life and allows Him to be enthroned there. So any time you struggle with negative emotions — such as anger, unforgiveness, fear, hurt, oppression, depression, self-hatred, or worthlessness — thank God that He is bigger than all that. Thank Him that His plans and purposes for you are good. Thank Him that in any weak area of your life, He will be strong. Thank Him that He came to restore you. Remember the names of the Lord, and use them in your prayer. “I praise You, Lord, because You are my Deliverer and Redeemer.” “Thank You, God, that You are my Healer and Provider.” Once you align yourself with God’s purposes through praise, you can claim things that you can’t see yet in your life as though they were there. “Lord, I have absolutely no way to make my healing come about, but You are all- powerful and can make it happen. I thank You and praise You for Your healing power in my life.” Doing this is your greatest weapon against the feelings of inadequacy, purposelessness, and futility that can undermine all God has made you to be. Remember: Praise lifts us powerfully into God’s presence and aligns us with His purposes. The Prayer of Praise Defeats Criticism There is another reason why the prayer of praise and thanksgiving is so vital to our walk with God. It crowds out criticism, which I discovered many years ago not only limits what God can do in my life but invites judgment back upon myself. Let me explain. Those of us who have been abused as children often grow up to be judgmental and critical. Being torn down when we were young makes tearing someone else down to build ourselves up very appealing. We become unmerciful because we were not shown mercy. Criticizing others quickly becomes a bad habit that can backfire. Constantly criticizing, even only in the mind, invites a critical spirit. When you have a spirit of criticism, your every thought and word is colored by it. You eventually become cynical and then completely unable to experience joy. You can be reading the Word, praying, and obeying and still not have peace and joy in your life because you are critical. Being critical of circumstances or conditions can be as detrimental as criticizing people, because it turns you into a grumbler and complainer — the type of person people generally like to avoid. It’s difficult to find the love and support you need when no one wants to be around you. Mercy triumphs over judgment. — James 2:13 Criticism crowds love out of our hearts. Though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge, and though I have all faith, so that could remove mountains, but have not love, I am nothing. — 1 Corinthians 13:2 Without love in our hearts we cannot grow emotionally, and we will always be at a standstill in our healing and development. But we can overcome a critical attitude by being constantly filled with the love of the Lord through prayerful praise and thanksgiving toward Him. The Prayer of Praise Defeats Depression The prayer of praise and thanksgiving can also lift you out of hopeless feelings of depression. One of the healthiest steps to take is to focus outwardly on God through praise. Stop everything you’re doing and say, “Lord, I praise You. I worship You. I give thanks to You. I glorify You. I love You.” Thanking Him for everything you can think of is the best way to stop the stream of self-abuse that goes through your head. It says in God’s Word that “anxiety in the heart of man causes depression, but a good word makes it glad” (Proverbs 12:25). The good word that will truly make your heart glad comes from the Lord through His Word. When you pray the prayer of praise and thanksgiving, pray God’s Word. Find verses of Scripture that speak praise and say them out loud. When you find a promise or word from God that speaks to your situation, continually speak it aloud with thanksgiving; eventually your spirit and soul will respond to the hope and truth of God’s Word. The Prayer of Praise Defeats Fear Before I received Jesus, fear was the controlling factor of my life: fear of failure, of bodily harm, of being emotionally hurt, of getting old, of being a nobody. An aching, paralyzing, all-engulfing spirit of fear had overtaken me, bringing with it companion spirits of suicide, despair, anxiety, and hopelessness. As I fought to keep from drowning in my fears, I ran out of strength. Gradually my fear of life overrode my fear of death, and suicide seemed as if it would be a pleasant relief. I have heard it said that F-E-A-R stands for: False Evidence Appearing Real The devil presents false evidence and makes it seem real. We can choose to listen to his falsehoods or believe God. The prayer of praise is your greatest weapon against fear, so use it with great force. Clap your hands, sing, and speak praises to God. Thank Him for His great love. The more you do, the more you’ll open up to receive it. God’s love and fear cannot reside in the same heart! There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. — 1 John 4:18 No matter what has happened to you in the past or what’s happening in the world around you, God promises to protect you as you walk with Him now. In fact, He is committed to protecting you all the time. We don’t understand how much evil the Lord protects us from every day, but I’m sure it’s far more than we imagine. He is more powerful than any adversary we face, and He promises that no matter what the enemy brings into our lives, we will triumph in it. The only fear you are to have is the fear of God, a respect for God’s authority and power. Fearing God means fearing what life without Him would be and thanking Him continually that, because of His love, you’ll never have to experience it. Excerpted with permission from Seven Prayers That Will Change Your Life Forever by Stormie Omartian, copyright Stormie Omartian.