#Almost died. Spent a long time in the hospital then in a wheelchair after that

[cobalt-mutterings]

You doing alright too? I'm sure all this is effecting up aswell

🐦‍⬛

Honestly I'm more fucked up from the drive here lol. I really only met Laika once at Birdie's birthday party. Whatever happened to his dad was deserved

[magnoliasandarson]

birds of a feather pt. 2

Dick wasn’t sure what to make of the Redhood Jason. His baby brother, his Little Wing- back from the dead. He was gloriously and miraculously alive, but there was something different. For one, he was jacked. His Jaybird had been five-foot-nothing when they buried him, but he was now a tank given human form- well over six feet tall, at least two hundred pounds.

Then there was the less obvious. Jason had always been a dynamic fighter, explosive and quick on his feet, but where he once moved like lightning, he now moved like wildfire, fluid and lethal. Dick recognized the brutality, the swiftness. Somehow, Jason had been with the League of Assassins. It was easy to put two and two together; someone had dumped the corpse of his baby brother into the Lazarus Pit. His brother hadn’t turned away from the light; someone turned him. They would pay dearly. 

He went to Bruce immediately and demanded they kill call Talia. But Bruce didn’t react the way Dick expected. He didn’t fly to Nanda Parbat; he didn’t swear vengeance in the name of his son. Instead, he said, “This changes nothing,” and went to find the Redhood, stone-faced and deathly quiet.

Dick hesitated for all of a minute before suiting up and running after Bruce, taking care to stay just out of sight. He’d known Bruce for half his life and had spent about as much time cleaning up his messes; he knew when the elder was going to make a mistake he’d dearly regret. He wanted to be wrong. 

Still, Dick crouched in the rafters of the warehouse and watched. He wanted to sob, wanted to scream, wanted to rage as his Little Wing tossed the hog-tied Joker onto the ground in front of him. Keeping the fucking clown as a barrier between him and his father. His fingers flexed involuntarily around a WingDing as the Joker started cackling, “How sweet! It’s a family reunion!”

Jason yanked his helmet off and tossed it between him and Bruce- no man’s land. In a fucked-up way, Dick almost laughed. Jason was still Jason, even under all the rage and madness. Thank fuck Dick had found and defused that bomb- Jason’d probably go on too long, and they’d be blown to pieces. 

Any semblance of a smile faded away from his face when Jason spoke, “Ignoring what he's done in the past. Blindly, stupidly disregarding the entire graveyards he's filled, the thousands who have suffered, the friends he's crippled.” Barbara’s agonized face as she stared at the Batgirl suit from her wheelchair flashed through Dick’s mind. His knuckles popped as he clenched his fists. Jason wasn’t wrong. Dick had believed- had known- what Jason was saying was true; he’d beaten the Joker to death with his bare hands, all for Bruce to bring him back. 

 Dick shifted his weight, ready to drop down in a split-second, “You know, I thought... I thought I'd be the last person you'd ever let him hurt. If it had been you that he beat to a bloody pulp, if he had taken you from this world, I would've done nothing but search the planet for this pathetic pile of evil, death-worshiping garbage and then send him off to hell!” Oh, Jaybird. This was all wrong, all so fucking wrong. Bruce had lost his mind when Jason died; why wasn’t Bruce telling him?

Finally, finally, Bruce opened his mouth, “You don't understand. I don't think you've ever understood.” Dick was going to kill Bruce. Then, he was going to cart his brother off to therapy and ice cream.

“What? That your moral code just won't allow for that? It's too hard to cross that line?” So much therapy and so much ice cream. Maybe even a trip to a bookstore. Or an island. Just anywhere but Gotham.

“No! God Almighty, no. It'd be too damned easy. All I've ever wanted to do is kill him. A day doesn't go by that I don't think about subjecting him to every horrendous torture he's dealt out to others, and then... end him.” Barbara’s beaten form in a hospital bed, Jason’s tiny grave- Dick felt all too prepared to assume the burden for Bruce.

The Joker laughed again, “Aw, Batsy’s thinkin’ bout lil ol’ me!” Jason slammed a boot into the clown’s side, and Dick found himself almost cheering.

Bruce carried on, too stuck in his self-flagellation and morality, “But if I do that, if I allow myself to go down into that place... I'll never come back.” Boo-fuckin-hoo, Dick would stop Bruce if he went too far. He'd done it before.

“Why? I'm not talking about killing Penguin or Scarecrow or Dent. I'm talking about him, just him. And doing it because... because he took me away from you.” Dick was afraid that if he exhaled, he’d scream. It took him months to realize that Jason wasn’t his usurper- that he was just a kid who needed a family. If Jason thought for a minute that Dick hadn’t wanted to burn the world to ashes-

“I can't. I'm sorry.” Fuck this.

Jason chuckled, low and uneven, and Dick felt the hairs on the back of his neck raise, “You don’t have to. I will,” he pulled a gun from his hip, cocked the hammer, and lowered it to point at the Joker’s laughing face, “Him or me, Bruce. Either kill me, or I kill him.” No, no, no, no-

Bruce reached into his utility belt and drew a Batarang- NO

Time slowed. Was this how Wally felt?

Dick launched from the beam-

Jason turned away from the Joker, his mouth opened to speak-

The Batarang glinted in the flickering lights as it flew-

Dick screamed his brother’s name, arm outstretched-

“JASON!”

A river of red opened and poured out of Jason’s neck-

Jason fell to the ground, clutching his throat-

Dick was frozen. He was standing on solid ground. His brother was bleeding out ten feet away, with the Joker howling in laughter on the ground next to him. Dick could sense Bruce Batman behind him. Unmoving.  

It wasn’t something many people acknowledged- even in his own family- but Dick Grayson was a weapon given skin. He had trained with Raptor, Lady Shiva, and Deathstroke. They didn’t specialize in nonlethal force. Dick had mutilated, tortured, and killed in the name of justice. Batman just killed his brother. Carelessly, he flicked a Wingding into the Joker’s neck, slicing his carotid like Jason’s.

"Let him go," Dick triggered his escrima stick, sparks of blue crackling into existence, "now."

He turned to face the man he had loved as a father who killed his brother, his voice uncharacteristically solemn and steady, “You killed my brother.” Blue lightning crackled into existence, drowning out the sound of the Joker’s dying giggles.

Bruce’s Batman’s face was carved from stone, even as he raised his fists, “You broke the code.”

“Fuck your code,” Dick launched himself at Batman, escrima sticks raised, “he was your son!”

Once upon a time, many years ago, Bruce had taught Dick to fight, but Dick wasn’t trying to fight his former mentor; he was trying to kill him. Batman swung at Nightwing, aiming to shatter bone and rend flesh. They had crossed the point of no return, and they both knew it, “He came back wrong.”

Dick roared in rage, primal and furious, not speaking a word, slamming a well-placed kick into Batman’s weak knee. He was done talking. He’d tried to talk to Bruce Batman for years. If the old man wanted to fight someone, he’d be reminded why Nightwing was his contingency plan.

Batman fell to one knee, slashing out with a Batarang, but Nightwing caught it with an escrima stick, knocking it from the elder’s hand, and slamming the other into the side of his head. Dick dodged a sloppy punch, flipping out of the way with agility Batman could never match. 

“Stand down, Nightwing,” Batman bellowed, “That’s enough!” He staggered back to his feet, catching the younger in the ribs with a gauntleted fist. The force of the punch threw Dick, tossed him through the air onto his back on the ground, a pained gasp leaving his lips.

Dick snarled, a horrifying imitation of the smile he was famous for, “Never again.” He’d never stand down again, not for Batman. He launched into the air off his shoulders, his feet connecting with the Bat symbol, knocking Batman onto the concrete. 

Nightwing knelt on the Batsuit, pressing a Wingding into his throat, “You slit his throat.” Tears blurred his vision as he cut through the armor, the blade touching his former mentor’s skin, drawing a single drop of beaded blood. 

“Dad?”

In a heartbeat, Dick was on the floor between the Joker’s corpse and his brother. He thought he was dead; he didn’t check- “Jason,” the word left his bloody lips like a prayer, “fuck, Jason.” He pressed his fingers to his brother’s throat- there was a thick scar under the gore but no open wound. Jason’s pulse was fast and erratic- but it was there.

“Dickie?” Jason’s voice was small, croaky. Batman had probably cut into his vocal cords when he threw that stupid Batarang. (You should call them Batarangs- like Bat and Boomerang!)

“I’m here, Little Wing,” tears dripped off his chin onto his brother’s face, “I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.” 

Distantly, Dick heard Batman jump out of a window. He didn’t care. He was holding his brother, his blessedly alive brother, fuck Batman. Birds of a feather stuck together.

[mini-green-goblin]

A little background: I have Schizophrenia and a genetic disease called Oshtoran Syndrome. I hid this from my friends for a very long time. They knew I was sick to an extent. There was no hiding my frequent trips to the hospital or having to become an ambulatory wheelchair user. But I wouldn’t admit what was wrong. I couldn't admit I was dying. My father spent his life studying trying to create a cure for my mother and me. But he had DID and Schizophrenia that (when mixed with one of the many faulty test cures) eventually caused him to snap and become the Green Goblin. He was put in prison and died not too long after. That was a year ago (his death I mean). I took up his work and ultimately finished the cure. Or at least I thought I did. Technically, it did cure me, but it also gave in-human strength, endurance, speed, reflexes, quick healing, and more. I grew small fangs and pointed ears. The green in my eyes mixed with purple. I had become a new goblin.

I explained everything to Peter. Ned, Gwen, and MJ were no longer in our lives. Some things happened and nobody could remember Peter except for me because somehow he forgot me instead. Bruce helped me create a pod almost like one used for diabetes but it contained the newly created cure. He made me a band for my wrist that allows me to adjust the dosage so I can go full goblin mode if I wish. There’s no way to sugarcoat this, but later I died. Not from sickness but from fighting. I sacrificed myself and kind of blew up a building with me on it. For some reason after I died, the spell broke; Peter remembered me. Shield somehow brought me back but refuse to tell me anything. So here I am with Peter alone, a zombie goblin. I guess I'll always walk around with my pointy teeth, goblin ears, and half-purple eyes. But I'd say it's worth it.

//not my photos//

Best friends:

@peterparker-who -my Peter <3

@definitelynot-peterp4rker @peterparker-official @midtown-braincell-holder @whatarethooseshuri @youknowwhoiamjr

Adopted by:

@imnothulk @thir-0dinson

Congrats on the engagement ^😁

My lawyer:

@daredevil-isnt-catholic-or-blind

[herresponsibiliity]

Musician AU

Attina has dedicated her life to the harp. She had been fascinated ever since her parents had taken her to the opera. The singing was beautiful, but she had fallen for the large instrument. She had already been taking piano and singing lessons, though her teachers often praised her for not needing them and begged her parents to learn the harp. That she promised she would keep up her grades to learn. So, they allowed it. It wasn’t like they couldn’t afford it; both her parents came from old money, but her mother was a famous singer, and her father took over, being head of his family’s affairs.

At eleven she was a prodigy. Already having starred in concerts alone and had written a few songs herself that her voice would accompany. Everything she did, she strived for perfection. One night, after another successful concert, she was headed home with her family, excitedly chattering away about the applause and her nerves when a drunk driver hit their town car.

Attina didn’t remember much, just searing pain. Later, in the hospital, she’d recall the sirens and her mother’s face. The flash of red and blue over her blood-spattered skin. And Athena trying to say something to Attina. Even as she tried, she couldn’t hear her mother, couldn’t get to her. Attina was told she had fainted, which had been best for her as her injuries were numerous, having been on the side of the car that had been hit alongside her mother. Attina and her father spent weeks in the hospital and when Attina finally came to she found her mother had died in the wreck.

For the first time she could see the relief in her sisters’ eyes that they had been in a separate car. It was how her parents made sure to make each daughter feel special. On the night of their performances only that daughter would ride with their parents. Often it caused meltdowns from the younger girls, but Attina was glad for it this time as none of them had been seriously harmed.

It took a long time for Attina to learn how to walk again but she refused anything musical. She felt her concert had been the catalyst that killed her mother and almost her father. What if it had been a few seconds later, all her sisters would be dead! She couldn’t stand it. Physical therapy and regular therapy replaced piano, harp, and singing lessons. Everyday things that used to be so easy for her now took much more energy than she had most days.

It was one of those days where she was out of breath just making herself lunch that she had her tantrum, had gone over to her harp in her wheelchair and began throwing everything she could get her hands on. Even as her father tried to calm her, the on-hand doctors, her sisters, she continued to rage. Rage for the loss of her mother, rage for losing her ability to play any instrument, everything. She hated the driver that hit them, she hated she had a concert the same night that driver hit them, she hated herself!

It was the last time she acted out, something the doctors told Triton she needed. She had been an exceptional patient before and it worried the doctors that she hadn’t grieved anything. So, they let her continue, making sure she wouldn’t hurt herself, and finally, exhausted, she stopped. It was the only time she ever lost her composure. After she poured all her energy into being able to walk again. The pool became her favorite place to be as it eased all her aches. Her time with physical therapy eventually paid off and she was able to walk again though she still had to have her wheelchair at times when she became too exhausted. Every time she walked, she was in pain, but she was determined not to rely on the wheelchair or others.

Still, she refused music, instead she let books let her escape the reality of all that she lost. When she turned fourteen, however, Ariel came to her one night, nightmares having filled her sleep and begged her big sister to sing for her. Ariel was eight and almost identical to their mother. Each of her sisters had something that reminded her of their mother. Andrina had her eyes, Arista had her bubbly attitude, Ariel with her hair, it was all so much for Attina. But she couldn’t just push her eight-year-old sister away. That night Attina sang for the first time. After Ariel fell asleep, Attina cried. Cried for something she had missed and after tucking Ariel into Attina’s bed, she went to the music room. Her father had had her harp repaired, unknown that he hoped she would go back to it. For an hour she trembled next to it, scared to begin something that had carried such pain for her. But singing had eased a pain in her heart she never realized she carried. And so, she sat, placed her fingers on the strings and played for the first time in years. Like a bike, she played smoothly, sorrowfully, and by the end of it her family stood in the doorway just watching her.

Her father approached first, tears in his eyes, and knelt beside her. He didn’t say anything, just cupped her face in his hands and cried with her. From then on, she continued to play, her first concert had her in such a panic she almost cancelled but her sisters and father were there, ready to support her through it all. The piece she played had been written on her own, a song of grief that, by the end, had the concert hall in quiet tears. Since then, she has risen to the same standards her mother had been, famous for her comeback. Now, twenty-one, she lives in her own penthouse and is always planning her next concert.

[helladirections]

ok now that it's over I just want to add.

This tour and both of these albums were defining pieces of my recovery. I had a HEART ATTACK, the doctors said it was one of the word they'd ever seen. Like I was genuinely literally DYING. and I had a HEART SURGERY. And they ripped open my chest and sawed through my sternum. And I get regularly scheduled scans where they inject me with NUCLEAR RADIOACTIVE shit. I spent incalculable time inside of MRI/MRA machines, sometimes for more than hour, sometimes with my limbs falling asleep, always uncomfortable. I couldn't sit up in bed without help. I couldn't walk without help. I had tubes in my neck, my throat, my stomach. Do you know what a "drain tube" is? Because I had two of them. I had to PRACTICE breathing. I had to use a wheelchair in the airport. I passed out in public twice and used an ambulance at least 4 times. the ER nurses KNEW ME.

And through all of that? Fine Line grounded me and helped me relax while in the hospital, while processing that I ALMOST DIED while my family was 3000 miles away. Fine Line reminded me that the rest of the world still existed. It calmed me after I developed claustrophobia, which I didn't used to have but after the 5th or 6th scan within a week I couldn't handle it anymore. The last thing I heard before going under anesthesia for heart surgery was Sunflower Vol 6 (I think, it's a little bit fuzzy) And going to LOT 2021 like I described above, genuinely accepting that if I got COVID I would almost definitely die.

And Harry's House defined my recovery. As It Was came out shortly after my mom left from taking care of me. The album came out while I was getting back to work. I played in the shower when I needed a shower chair and my tremor was so bad I had trouble washing my face. I listened on repeat when I waited in Drs offices or hospitals. I listened to it when I flew back to California to live with my mom. I bought my tickets for Residency literally while I was in the NIH waiting for a blood draw where they took over 25 vials of blood. I knew the concerts were risky for my health, but my therapist agreed that I needed something to look forward to. So when I was experiencing some of the worst depression of my life, when the ideation started again, I reminded myself that I just needed to live long enough to go to LOT.

And this is from before I was sick but ESNY always reminds me of those moments immediately after I woke up from the heart attack. When they lost my phone so I could only talk to my parents or my brother. When the doctors had no idea what was going on and pretty much encouraged me to prepare myself for possibly dying. When the drugs forced me to express my emotions and I cried every time a provider walked into the room. Tell me something I don't already know When my brother did a rare Older Brother thing and I called him and said "talk to me about anything besides this" and we gossiped about people from high school.

It makes me feel dumb. And dramatic. And it feels unnecessary. And no one has to read this or care. But I just needed to write it down and put it out there. And I never wrote in a journal the whole time I've been sick, but I think I'm going to sit down and write about this some time soon.

any way. Unironically my biggest health goal is to be able to get tickets for pit next tour, stand the entire time, and hold up a sign that says "x years since heart attack" or something like that.

like, when I finally got my phone back in the ICU, I looked pictures of Harry. And when I went into the machines for scans over and over and over and over, I listened to Fine Line the album. And when I went into surgery, I requested they play the "this is Harry Styles" Spotify playlist. And the first thing I asked my surgeon when I woke up, after they took the throat tube out, was what she thought of his music.

I bought a ticket for LOT DC before the pandemic bc I FINALLY had a job where I had my own money. It was a big deal. When the show finally happened, I was super sick. I ended up needing the heart surgery 6 weeks later. I couldn't stand for more than 5 minutes at a time. but the pure adrenaline of finally seeing him live after waiting 11 years, i stood the entire time somehow. I felt terrible and it was amazing.

he gave me a happy thing when everything around me was a mess and I was literally dying.

So yeah. My primary long term health goal is to be able to get a pit ticket and stand the entire time with a sign about my heart attack.

[beardedmrbean]

A woman in Canada has died after waiting for almost seven hours to receive emergency care at a hospital on New Year’s Eve in what has been described as a “senseless death”.

Allison Holthoff, 37, from the Nova Scotia province, was rushed to an emergency room on the morning of 31 December after her condition worsened from what was initially believed to be an upset stomach.

Her husband, Gunter Holthoff, told CBS news, that she had to be carried on his back to reach the Cumberland Regional Health Care Centre in Nova Scotia’s Amherst town at 11am local time before they spent hours in the waiting room.

“She was obviously in pain,” he said on Sunday, recalling his wife’s excruciating pain and their ordeal. “I was rolling her in the wheelchair and she could hardly sit up.”

Ms Holthoff’s pain worsened as the two waited for more than six hours in the emergency department’s waiting room. They were only able to see a doctor after 6pm in the evening, he said.

By then, the doctor said, it was already too late. She underwent a preliminary examination and the nurse asked for her urine sample.

Ms Holthoff then fell on the bathroom floor as she was not able to stand on her own and required the assistance of two other people to get back onto her wheelchair.

Her condition deteriorated to the point where she was unable to sit in the wheelchair and ended up lying on the floor, he said.

“I told the nurses and the lady at the desk there a couple of times, ‘It is getting worse,’ and nothing happened,” Mr Holthoff said. “So the security guards, in time, they brought a couple blankets out and they brought us a cup of water and I used it to put some ice on her lips.”

As they continued to wait, Ms Holthoff told her husband that she felt she was dying.

“I think that she actually started saying that she thought she was dying in the waiting room outside,” Gunter continued. “She said, ‘I think I’m dying. Don’t let me die here’”.

His wife was then taken to a room with a bed, but no medical equipment. A nurse checked her blood pressure and found it to be alarmingly low.

She then received more urgent care and a doctor came to see her. An X-ray was prepped, but she was unable to breathe.

“The next thing is [her] eyes rolled back in her head and her chest started rising. Something started beeping,” he said. “The next thing you hear is over the PA, ‘code blue, code blue in X-ray.’”

“Even if she would have survived at that point... she had too long a time without sufficient blood flow to the brain and vital organs. It would have been not a life worth living,” he said.

Mr Holthoff said the system is “obviously broken” and “we need change” as “I don’t want anybody else to go through this”.

Elizabeth Smith-McCrossin, a local MLA, wrote a letter to the provincial health minister to demand an “urgent investigation” into the case.

Alexandra Rose, the provincial co-ordinator for the Nova Scotia Health Coalition, said the situation is scary and the province’s healthcare system is in a “dire situation”.

“It’s so scary. And we have to wonder, when is the breaking point? Is this the breaking point now that somebody has passed away? It was a senseless death,” she said.

[lfnr-blog-blog-blog]

Glory

Image from here.

Summary: You spend your whole life waiting for the color to fill in on your soulmate tattoo, when it does you finally meet the one you are spending the rest of your life with, the only catch you only get to spend so many days with them.

Pairing: soulmate!Bucky Barnes x reader

Word Count: ~2k

Warnings: Major Character death, Angst, Fluff(some). Talk of illness, and disabled/chronically ill reader. Minor could be considered suicidal thoughts.

Timeline: Soooo non canon timelines, and canon divergence. Bucky goes to Wakanda after CA:TWS, No CW or Endgame. Sorry not sorry. Just go with the flow y’all.

A/N: This hits really close to home for me. My chronic illness and I are currently struggling with treatment and we aren't sure what will happen next.

THIS IS AN 18+ blog. MINORS DNI!

Written for @bucksmotel 2k follower Challenge. Congratulations Darling! I am so proud of you!!!

Soulmate AU Idea: -Timer of how much time you spent with your soulmate

soul mate

/ˈsōl ˌmāt/

noun

noun: soulmate

a person ideally suited to another as a close friend or romantic partner.

Looking in your mirror at the dictionary cutout of the definition of soul mate you have had for the last 12 years, then at the time stamp on your left shoulder surrounded by the almost completely filled in outline of blue Glory of the Snow flowers, 572. That's how many days you would get to spend with your soulmate, just over 18 months. Sometimes the person you love dies, sometimes it is you, sometimes the unthinkable happens and you go together. Covering up your shoulder, hoping today is the day that you meet the soulmate you have been dreaming of for years, just like every day for the last 2 months, as the flowers get more color the closer you are to meeting your soulmate. Grabbing your stuff, head down the elevator of your apartment building, you get in your car and back out of the designated spot for you. An early spring snow falling as you make your way to the appointment you have been dreading for months.

Heading out of the office, head in the clouds, you are run into by a tall stranger, dark brown hair covering his eyes as he looks at his phone, suddenly your shoulder is hot and tingly. “Ouch,” you cry out rubbing your shoulder.

“Sorry.” He rubs his arm. Suddenly it hits you. “Doll, I think you might be my soulmate.” He says as he kneels down in front of you, rolling his sleeve to show you blue Glory of the Snow flowers. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this. My name is Bucky.” You shake your head and tears start to flow, you give him your name.

“What a beautiful name for a beautiful woman. Can I get you a drink?” He asks, putting his hands on the back of the wheelchair you are seated in.

“I would like that Bucky.” You head in the wheelchair down to the hospital cafeteria unsure of what to say to the man who is supposed to be the love of your life. After ordering your drink, and Bucky grabbing a muffin and his americano, you wheel over to a table. “Well Doll, it's been a long time coming so tell me about yourself.” You proceed to tell him about your life leading up to this point, and he tells you about his time as the Winter Soldier, life in the 40’s and how things have gone since Steve found him in D.C, his time in Wakanda and then his soul searching journey in Romania.

“I thought growing up that my flowers would never color in, and then I woke up in D.C and they had a small amount of color in them and I had hope. After my time in Wakanda there was more color and I knew that I was going to find you soon.” Bucky says tracing the scars on your right arm in the same spot as his soulmate tattoo. “I have 572 days to show you just how much I love you, and I intend on using every single one of them to the best of my ability.”

After talking and laughing for hours about both of your favorite books, drinks, foods, funny stories, and music, you are exhausted, leaning your head on your hand on the table, eyes fluttering closed. “I need to get home, Bucky, I am very tired.” Bucky grabs onto your wheelchair and pushes you out to your car in the now empty parking lot, “Tomorrow would you like to watch a movie at my apartment with me after my treatment?” You ask him as you attempt to put your wheelchair in the car. He helps maneuver the chair into the back of your vehicle and walks you to your door, making sure that you are safe and that your car starts. “Sure. Text me a time and an address? And let me know when you get home safe, Wouldn’t want my best girl out in the snow too long.” He says with a warm smile. You give him a quick kiss on the cheek and then he squeezes your hand and shuts the door. You head home to your apartment, figuring out what to feed a super soldier for movie snacks.

Days Left: 500

The summer air feels nice on your skin as you and Bucky make your way through the countryside. Letting your head fall against his chest, sunglasses on, Bucky's arm on your shoulder, old jazz standards streaming through the truck radio. “Bucky, I wish you would tell me where we are going.” You giggle at him as he kisses your forehead. “Not a chance, Doll. It is a surprise, but I know you will love it.” You sneak a few pictures on your phone, adding them to the album for prints to be made, wanting to savor every moment in his presence. You fall asleep while he drives the fatigue finally overtaking your body, strains of Unforgettable (Nat Cole King and Natalie Cole) following you into the dreamland. You wake to Bucky carrying you across a field to a small gazebo with fairy lights and a blanket on the ground. “Almost there princess.” he says as you enter the gazebo, and he sets you down in the nest of pillows. You enjoy a small meal of all your favorites, and listen to music while watching the sun fade across the sky, eventually going down when Bucky kneels next to you pulling a ring out of his pocket. “My love, I have known since the day I met you that I was going to marry you, will you please do me the honor of being my wife?” Tears stream down your face as you nod, “Yes, of course Bucky.” You kiss him, not pulling away until you are gasping for air.

Days left: 393

The swishing of the dress around your legs pulls you out of your thoughts, back to all the sleepless nights talking to Bucky, the countless treatments and doctors appointments, the pictures taken, and the intimate moments shared. Your maid of honor zips the dress up the rest of the way, placing the veil on your head. “You ready? This is the rest of your life we are talking about. He is waiting for you.” You sit back in your wheelchair as people gather around you, putting flowers in your lap, fluffing your dress, putting the finishing touches on you, before you make yourself forever Mrs. Barnes. The Aisle is short, choosing to navigate it yourself, and at the end of it his blue eyes are waiting, tears waiting to be shed. The ceremony is quick, both of you expressing your love and promises to be there for the other through the good and the bad, in sickness and in health, forever and for always, no till death do us part here. That night you spend your time in his arms, him never letting you go, holding you until the sun comes up.

Days left: 300

“Mr. and Mrs. Barnes, I am sorry there is nothing more we can do. We can make you comfortable, but no treatments are going to work.” The doctor says before she leaves, “I will send in the nurse to schedule some appointments for you to get comfort measures taken care of.” You turn to Bucky, crawling into his lap, funny how just 271 days ago, you met him in this very hospital and now there is nothing more that can be done for you. “I am going to stop going on missions, Doll, there isn’t much time left, let's travel the world and just spend time with each other.” Tears stream from your eyes as you nod, not trusting your voice to say anything more than a broken “I love you Bucky Barnes, Today, Tomorrow and 300 days from now.”

Days left: 90

Feeling the sand between your toes as Bucky comes out with the nurse, “Time for your treatment princess.” he says pulling the sunshade over you a little more as the nurse sets up the IV fluids and tube feeds. At least you picked a paradise to spend the short remainder of your life in. He has been so supportive, learning all he can about your illness, learning to take care of you and the medical needs. Loving you and using each day that he has available. At first he attempted to find treatments, experimental, even calling in a favor from Wakanda to see what they could do for you, and after a large argument, ending with you in the ER, he finally decided to give up and spend the time just holding you.

Days left: 1

You wake up and pull yourself from Bucky’s arms, wanting to spend your final day putting together a gift for Bucky once you are gone, letting him sleep in the bed. Gathering all the pictures you have taken over the last 500 plus days, you put them in a book, writing small notes to Bucky, memories and thank you’s. From the pictures you snuck of him in the kitchen, or out on the porch, in the rain both of you kissing. Pictures of your wedding, and pictures of the two of you at the treatment centers. You put the scrapbook where you know he will find it, and roll yourself out to the living room of the hotel room. Choosing to spend your last days in Romania, hoping that he will feel some peace here, after you are gone. Instructions for your funeral have been left with your lawyer and Bucky has nothing to worry about. He finally wakes up, joining you in the living room. “Let’s get breakfast and then I want to go for a drive, Bucky.” He gets ready and you find a small café, enjoying a pastry and the same drink you got on that first day that you met him. In the car you are headed out towards a field that he told you about, listening to Unforgettable again, when suddenly the car swerves, flipping over and over again, Bucky calling out your name, through the smoke, the last thing you hear is “I will always love you Doll.” before your eyes close.

Days left: 0

You wake up gasping, hearing beeping around you. When you open your eyes on your lap sits a scrapbook. You flip it open to the first page, seeing your handwriting.

Bucky,

When you read this your flowers will be black. A sign that I am gone, don’t cover them up, show them with honor, a reminder that I loved you more fiercely than I thought I could. Thank you for making these last 571 days the most amazing that I could ever imagine. Thank you for loving me, thank you for changing my life. You deserved more than 572 days, we deserved a lifetime, years, decades. But you never let that deter you, you never backed away and you never let me not feel loved. I love you, I will never stop loving you. So please move on, find someone to help you, travel the world and love with your whole heart, feel the dirt on your feet, crush snow in your hands, and watch flowers bloom. I love you, please don’t stop loving me.

Love always,

Your Doll

It was supposed to be you, you always thought it would be you, you thought you would leave Bucky, not the other way around. You sob until you pass out, heart breaking all over again.

Days without Bucky: 9

Today is the funeral, you pull yourself out of bed wearing his sweater, you haven’t left the bed since you got back from the hospital, Sam coming over and bugging you to eat, nurses hooking up your treatments despite the fact that you don’t want to live in this world without Bucky.

It's a beautiful service, not that you are paying attention. Your head hurts and you have cried nonstop since you got here. Putting dirt on his casket as they lower it into the ground, one connected head stone, your name and his, your date of birth and both his date of birth and the day you lost him.

Days without Bucky: 31

The dark flowers on your shoulder have lightened a little, the nurse for hospice notices as she rolls you, your vitals becoming unstable. She holds your hand and brushes the tears off your unconscious face. A smile joining your features as your heart falters and stops. Finally joining your lover in death.

——————————————————————————-

I did

Room: the beloved

Room # 666 lovers to widows

Roommate Bucky Barnes

[honey-milk-depresso]

Meanie (Azul Ashengrotto x Reader) 6

We’re almost done I promise-

Bear with me here-

Part 1,

part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8 (END)

3 months 13 days before Y/n pass away

Everyone has been meeting up with you. Heck, even Idia showed his physical self with Ortho to show you his anime episodes. 2 months gone, 3 months left

You felt really happy everyone wants to spend time with you, and that they weren’t all sad and just wanted to go all out with the fun before you move on.

Especially Azul. You were so glad he wanted to spend the most time with you.

You were having a harder time trying to remember things, Azul’s notebook was helpful in helping you record down the things you do, especially Trey’s offer that was between you and him only. You were a bit guilty you couldn’t tell Azul what it was, but when the time comes you will.

“What?! WHY???”

Azul and you were playing a simple game of UNO again.

You were happy that he was trying to help you what color is which, but you’re still losing.

“Hmmmm~ Was I really bound to lose you???”

“Well..”

“Oh don’t answer, meanie!”

He snorted.

For some reason, you’ll never forget who you called him. Meanie.

Very simple because he always disses you with no regard while you tease him back.

That nickname will always be stuck with you.

So long as you live

=============================================================

3 months 7 days before Y/n pass away.

“Azul! Guess what??”

“What?”

“I can go out! With my wheelchair that is!”

You finally get to go out, after weeks of being bound to your bed. It felt like absolutely torture just staying in bed without being able to do anything until someone comes to visit you.

“Want me to push your wheelchair?”

“Well, if you insist!”

“Of course I would.”

“Okay hold on.”

You took a tote bag Vil actually bought, you stuffed it with all the snacks everyone has given you with the octopus plushie Azul won for you all the way back.

You never stopped hugging it when you sleep. It always helped you get better rest ever since your insomnia and depression was getting worse.

“Let’s go, soldier!”

“Don’t yell.”

=============================================================

“It’s gonna be October soon right? Like, next week?”

“Yes.”

“OOOH I’M SO LUCKY! I get to see the Halloween event on- on-”

“In one more week.”

“Yeah!”

Taking a stroll around the campus like you wanted to, you surprised everyone when you waved at them.

You never thought you missed the campus, classrooms and even the Hall of Mirrors.

“Azul! Octavinelle!”

“Yes, yes, yes.”

============================================================= 

“Ne~! Koebi chan!”

“Hi Floyd!”

Azul watch as Floyd glomp you, Jade smiled as he looked happy about your arrival. 

Azul was trying to be positive although he can clearly see what the presence of death has done to you.

Azul wants to remain positive for you.

Because you wanted him to.

And he loved you.

=============================================================

2 months 1 day before Y/n pass away

“Sorry I don’t have much to dress in. Grim found me a witch hat and that’s the best he can do. Honestly I don’t expect much, I’m grateful!”

“So am I. And you don’t have to be sorry, you’re fine.”

Your hospital gown didn’t even compliment with your witch hat at all, but Azul thought there was nothing wrong with it.

“I’ll take this octopus along! Hehehe~!” you giggled as you showed him the octopus you held in your hands, pressing in on you cheek.

Met with flying Jack-o- lanterns, balloons, stores and happy visitors, NRC looked more alive then ever, like the time you went to the Rose Kingdom with Azul.

“Wow! You guys did so much for Hallo- Halloo-”

“Halloween, yes,” Azul smiled.

“Wahh! I didn’t say, but I think your mummy outfit is cool! MMM I WISH I COULD WEAR IT!” you swing your legs, jealous that your best friend got to wear something so cool.

“It’s nothing really. I think you look cool too.”

You blushed, and hid your face.

“Hmmmm! You don’t have to lie!”

“I’m not.”

By this point, you were certain your face has gotten redder than Riddle’s hair.

“YOU BIG MEANIE WHY YOU DO THIS TO ME???”

Azul smiled.

He will never get enough of you.

=============================================================

You spent the whole day at Octavinelle’s venue, eating enjoying Floyd’s antics and seeing how they’re scare house play out. Sometimes you get to take part in the scare since yours eyes move abnormally in different directions and fidget a lot like you’re about to come alive from the dead, just being wrapped in toilet paper in your night gown.

You had so much fun, you wish you could stay like this forever. Forever hanging out with Azul and everyone else on Halloween.

But Trey’s request has been stuck on your mind, as the death approach nearer and nearer. You have to make up your mind.

Because without it, Azul will never know how you truly feel.

But for now,

“Y/n! Come on, we’re gonna do the big celebration!”

Azul took ahold of you wheelchair handle and bent down.

“Come on, let’s go.”

You laughing with Azul as you zoomed passed everyone to the grand finale.

You want to have as much fun now.

===========================================================

Want Part 7???? Reblog or ask!

Or like-

idk 

I told you I pretty much died-

[tired-fandom-ndn]

I think nearly constantly about the consequences of Danny's accident outside of ghostifying him.

I mean. He DIED. He fucking DIED from being electrocuted and it's all fine and well that he "survived" but there is no possible way he just walked away from that? Even mild electrical injury is some bad shit, straight up electrocution is a whole other ballgame.

And I say electrocution instead of electrical injury because he fucking DIED. I cannot stop thinking about this fact.

Anyway.

(gore, severe injury, and medical shit under cut)

I'm thinking about how much it probably hurt, the searing pain of what was probably thousands of volts of electricity shooting through him and literally cooking him alive from the inside out. Maybe he had a seizure during it and caused himself even more harm, bruises and broken bones and maybe even a concussion.

Can you imagine being Sam and Tucker watching this? Hearing him scream? Smelling the electricity and the smell of burning flesh in the air? Knowing that they could do nothing about it except desperately call for help, all while blaming themselves?

In the short term, he'd almost definitely need skin grafts, on his arm at the very least if not more widespread. Maybe he even "died" during treatment, doctors desperately scrambling to restart his heart without knowing that their patient was already dead.

He probably spent months in bed, first in a hospital hooked up to a hundred machines, then in his bedroom.

In the long-term, there'd definitely be nerve damage, especially in his arm and probably throughout his entire left side. He wouldn't have been able to use his left hand for a long while and even after that, he probably never regained real feeling in it.

Ohhh, and god, the neurological damage. Electrical brain injuries are fucking BAD. I headcanon him as autistic and adhd already, but I bet the brain damage from the accident caused some issues. I'm thinking seizures at the least, maybe alexia/acquired dyslexia and other language processing and verbalization issues, probably some form of apraxia affecting his ability to form sounds and make precise limb movements.

Again, I headcanon him as already being prone to chronic pain because I project onto characters and they all have to have fibro and arthritis for me to be happy, but the physical damage from the accident and the horrible mental stress would make that pain a million times worse.

I really like the idea of Danny using mobility aids after he recovers as best he can and isn't bedbound anymore. I'm thinking a cane on days he can walk, with spikes wrapped around it after one too many people tried to grab it, and a very customized electric wheelchair when he can't. I also really want him to have Cujo as a service dog, but I cannot imagine how that could happen pre-reveal lmao. Unless it's a non-ghost au? Hmm. Things to consider.

Anyway this has been my Danny Phantom medical trauma whump post, thank you all for coming.

[sokkabeifong]

Can you write some tokka angst 🙏

ofc I can anon and IM SORRY THIS IS SO LATE but better late than never I guess. this is set in modern times because modern times are fun to write for tokka okay? a bit longer than usual but the more angst the better am I right

Toph had promised Sokka that she’d go to the hospital when it happened, so that’s exactly what she’d done. She hadn’t promised that she’d actually get anyone’s attention. Or check in. Or ask for help.

Although… the contractions were getting more insistent, and she doubted the medical staff would leave her alone if she stripped off the stupid maternity pants and just squatted down right there on the lobby floor.

With a heavy sigh, she waddled her way over to the nearest front desk. Spirits, she hadn’t been in a hospital in years. She wasn’t even sure what the different branches and buildings and desks were all for. But there was no way that she was giving birth at home. Katara was in medical school, sure, but she wasn’t done. And Toph wasn’t about to risk her life and her child’s life for a “practice trial.”

Still, there was something unnerving about the hospital, with its stuffy feeling and too-squeaky floor. It feels clean, clean in a way that you can just sense. She didn’t need sight to tell her just how antibacterial this place was.

A pinging, traitorous part of her wishes that someone was here with her, that she didn’t have to do this alone. But it was her own stupid pride that had taken a cab all alone in a Wednesday night, and the only person she truly wanted present was somewhere she could never get him back from. She’d promised him before he died that she would go to the hospital if she felt even the slightest change. He wanted her to be safe, he said.

And now, of course, Sokka was dead and gone while she was here, swollen belly stretching out her sweater and maternity pants. As much of an annoyance as labor would be, getting the thing out of her was going to be a blessing. She’d spent too long unbalanced and vulnerable to attack.

“Can I help you?”

Toph was broken out of her musings by the question from someone sitting at the closest desk. She turned her head to where she hoped the person, a woman by the sound of it, would be.

“I hope so,” she smiled, falling back into a generic cover ID face. “I should probably see a doctor.”

“All right,” said the woman. She heard the clicking of nails on a keyboard, then something sliding across the desk. “Why don’t you take one of these forms, fill it out, and bring it back here?”

“Can’t ,” she said shortly. “I’m blind.”

“No worries.” The woman clicked her pen open like she had blind pregnant ladies come into the ER every day. Who knew - maybe she did. “I’ll ask you the questions and you answer, okay?”

“Okay.” Toph winced as another contraction hit her. At least the protruding baby bump gave her something to lean against. She made sure to breathe in through her nose and out through her mouth as the woman began questioning her, just as Katara had instructed her to do. I’m a few hours, the whole thing would be over and then - she bit her lip and redirected her thoughts.

She wished Sokka was -

She redirected that thought, too.

“Reason for your visit?” the woman asked, yapping the pen against the clipboard.

Toph waited a moment before she turned around yet again, because she was in the middle of another contraction and couldn’t decide whether she’d rather scream or just go ahead and kill the lady.

“My contractions are about eight minutes apart,” she said.

The lady blinked once and then repeated, “They’re eight minutes apart from each other? So you’re in labor. Are you in active labor?”

Toph smiled sweetly. “Are you asking me to stick my fingers down and see whether or not I’m dilated to seven centimeters?”

To the woman's credit, the crudity didn't seem to faze her, and she plowed ahead with, “Ma’am, this is the ER. We’re not equipped for a birth. I’ll call you a wheelchair immediately, and we’ll get you up to Labor and Delivery. Trust me, it’ll be faster than checking in here and waiting for a transfer.”

“Where’s Labor and Delivery?”

“Fourth floor, and I -”

“I’ll just walk over there. It’s fine.”

“Ma’am, I really must insist. You’ve technically checked in—” she waved the yellow paper “—and you’re our responsibility now.”

Toph leaned heavily against the counter and deftly snatched the page out of the woman’s hand. At least her coordination was still functional.

“There. Now I didn’t check in, and I’m my own problem.”

“Ma’am, please. You’re in no condition to go wandering the hospital, whether you take that against your pregnancy or your eyesight. Let me just call someone to wheel you over.”

Luckily for the woman, another contraction rendered her unable to give a snappy retort. She waited for it to pass, quietly, quickly, then faced the lady once more.

“Fine,” she said tightly. “Fine. Fine.”

“Thank you,” the lady said, obviously relieved. Apparently she did not deal with stubborn blind pregnant women on the daily.

By the time she had been put in a wheelchair and taken through the long halls and winding corridors to Labor and Delivery, Toph had managed to calm herself down. Not because the situation was in any way calming, but because she’d stressed her body and mind out enough that she’d fallen into full-blown mission mode.

Which was fine. It’d probably be easier to give birth with that attitude.

“Well, you seem pretty together, Toph,” the nurse gushed as she checked in yet again at the front desk. “We’ll get you back as soon as possible. For now, if you can just take a seat in one of those chairs, and listen for your name.”

Toph let her real self fade into the background, giving over control to the five other women sitting in the waiting room, and promptly closed her eyes. If she was going to be in pain, she might as well rest while she could.

-

The calm blind girl out in the lobby was already a topic of discussion.

It wasn’t completely unheard of for someone to come in alone. Life was weird and sometimes people gave birth without anyone they knew to help them through the experience. But this girl? The calm young girl with ebony in her hair and in her eyes wasn’t any of the typical stories. She was clean and put together. She was calm and young and looked like the kind of person who would have a dozen friends by her side, even if the father of the child was no longer in the picture.

And yet, there she sat. First in the waiting room and then in her hospital room.

Alone.

Moreover, Miss Toph Beifong had claimed on her paperwork that her contractions were now five minutes apart. However, she was sitting too calmly for that. In fact, the nurse had sat with phone in hand and timed out more than ten minutes, and the girl hadn’t moved once. She’d sat there calmly. No wincing, no cursing, no crying.

It wasn’t until the nurse pulled the woman back and got down to take a look that anyone believe the claim at all.

"Shit,” the nurse murmured.

The doctor startled and glanced up to see if Toph had been offended by the curse. Fortunately, the girl seemed more concerned with how many fingers she had, and didn’t seem to have heard.

“What?” the doctormurmured, more quietly.

“Her cervix is nine centimeters,” the nurse answered.

“Shit,” the doctor echoed.

-

By the end of it all, Toph had decided she did not like labor. She’d made that decision before she began crowning, and nothing that followed did anything to change that. While she had experienced worse pain in her life, she had never experienced that kind of pain.

She had once spent four straight hours being absolutely crushed by a girl at the gym and, at the peak of labor, she was pretty sure she’d trade out that experience for her current one.

Nevertheless, she didn’t scream. She screwed up her eyes and doubled her body up and flexed her fingers. Tears leaked from her eyes from the sheer stress of it all. But her lips remained tightly closed. The skin around them grew white from where she bit them between her teeth, and the nurses were afraid she’d draw blood.

One well-intentioned nurse had advised that she just give in and cry out.

Toph had rolled her eyes, widened her legs, and pushed again.

In the end, nature was inevitable. Toph had always had someone to remind her to take good care of her body, so the whole experience was over in a few hours. She collapsed back against the wet bedding. There was sweat and blood and who-knew-what all over her, and she’d probably never feel clean again.

There was screaming in the background, and her eyes finally focused on the small infant being washed by the hospital staff.

Then her view was cut off by the ring of congratulating nurses.

“It’s a beautiful girl. Do you have the name ready for her?”

“Call it Toph, for all I fucking care,” Toph murmured, too quietly for anyone to make out. She turned over on her side, away from the child, and shut her eyes tight.

-

Later that night, after hours of tossing and turning in her sleep, Toph was awoken by the small mewing sound coming from her bedside. She sighed. She’d tried to have the baby whisked away to some far-off nursery where she wouldn’t have to ignore its presence, but apparently the hospital didn’t “do that anymore.”

Spirits, she felt so empty. Tired and empty and drained.

Deciding she could avoid it no further, Toph feels her way to the other side of the bed. The hospital is quiet, and she can’t even guess what time it is. Probably late at night. She waddled over to the bassinet, and the mewing became a full-fledged scream.

She jumped. The baby continued screaming, but less so, as if it hadn’t realized anyone was there. She found herself reaching down, feeling the child, the blankets, so afraid she would drop it or break it or… worse. For a moment she hesitated.

This is your baby, she thinks. You’re allowed to pick it up. It’s yours. And his. You can pick it up.

Her. She could almost hear Sokka’s voice echo through the room, reminding her that their child wasn’t an it. The thought made her smile.

Slowly, carefully, as though her life depended on it, Toph lowered her arms around the tiny, tiny baby and lifted her up. The baby stopped bawling and snuggled against her mother’s chest.

“Hello,” she said stupidly, like the kid could respond. But her mouth kept moving. “Um. Uh, my name’s Toph. I’m your - Spirits, I guess I’m your mom now, huh?”

The baby gurgled, her lips curled like she might cry again. Toph hurried to keep talking.

“Oh, God, um. What else, what else… uh, you have a bunch of aunts and uncles,” she said. “They’re all gonna help raise you. They’re annoying sometimes, but they mean well. You’re our first baby, you know.”

Our. The word made Toph close her eyes for a second. Try as she might, there would be no more “our.” There was only “she.” The “our” in her partnership was long gone. How was she supposed to tell her child that?

She decided to start with the basics.

“Your daddy was so brave,” she whispered. It hurt to talk about Sokka in the past tense, but she kept going. “He was so, so strong and brave and I just know he would have loved to meet you. He already loved you, you know. He wanted to meet you so bad, kid. He just never got the chance.”

The baby blinked, her eyelids heavy like hearing about the father she would never meet was too much for one night. Toph wholeheartedly agreed and set her down in the bassinet once more, making sure she was secure before plodding back to her own bed and face-planting on the blankets.

The nurse had told her the baby’s eyes were blue. She let that thought sink into her heart before drifting off to sleep.

[happyvoidharmony]

Odd

@bearandbirdfan I finally got your request ! Sorry for taking so much time, I hope you enjoy it !

Request : Laxus listening to Mira’s heartbeat and Mira talking about when August pierced her heart.

It was odd.

They didn’t get the chance to hang out very often. She spent most of her time at the guild hall, serving drinks, organizing things and whatever she was supposed to do there. Especially taking care of the master too.

The old man was not getting any younger as the months passed by and was finding himself more and more in need of an another person for tasks he simply didn’t have the energy to do anymore, considering he spent a lot of his time in a wheelchair it had become rather natural to need someone to take a little care of him.

Nothing too much, he was still very capable to handle himself in well… intimate parts of his life. He didn’t anyone to bathe him or such things that old people needed. Just someone to keep his house livable, accompany him home and sometimes bring something to eat when he hadn’t already eaten at the hall. When he usually got back with very different people, give that most mages found the idea of having a private conversation with him rather appealing, especially as S-class trials approached, the other tasks usually fell on Mirajane, sometimes Lisanna, but only when Mira found herself too busy to do it herself.

And it was fine, they had found quite a balance. She usually just brought something she had cooked during the day and tidied up while asking for his orders on guild matters. Everything kind of found its place, and everyone seemed quite content with it.

He didn’t have more free time. He spent lots of it on jobs, mostly with his team but sometimes taking a quick solo mission as the Thunder Legion rested between two. And, training of course.

Which is why they didn’t hang out very often. That didn’t mean they didn’t see a lot of each other though. Because they did. A lot. One night every time he got into town for the very least. And as months passed by, they were finding it even harder to spend a night other than in the same bed while he was there. But they rarely hung out because they mostly slept, and screw, a lot, and snuggled (even if he had trouble admitting it) talking about their days or just listening to music when nothing was new.

She usually came back late from the hall or the master’s place. And he spent as much time training, hanging out with the Thunder Legion or organizing his next mission. So, it was rare when their schedules both synced up and they found themselves at the same time free for the evening.

Surprisingly, they found themselves doing nothing during those times. One would have thought they would take the chance to go on a date, but they usually just spent the entire evening at his place without anything planned. Mostly because their sort of relationship wasn’t public yet, only a few knew about it like Erza, Lisanna, Elfman, the Thunder Legion and of course, the master, with very diverse opinions on it.

So they didn’t go anywhere because running across someone from the guild was just something they both silently agreed they didn’t want to do, because that meant the entire guild would probably know about them a few hours later if you had the chance to walk across someone blabby and just no, they couldn’t have that.

They never really went on a date truly speaking. Dates were for people that wanted to get to know each other better, and they often felt like they knew too much of each other. Even if sometimes they both felt they didn’t at all. Besides, other towns were just too far and travelling would take the evening away, especially when one party had a really hard time with trains. They just stayed at his place, hung out, screwed a lot, and talked about things they usually didn’t. Like feelings (about everything but each other, way too early for that), but they mostly liked themselves just being. Which was very odd because they were both way too active for that. Mirajane couldn’t spend an afternoon off without cooking or working on her songwriting while Laxus didn’t have afternoons off because he filled them up with training.

That’s how they found each other at his place that one night after ten months of seeing each other between his jobs and her busy schedule at the hall, talking on his couch as her legs lazily laid on his lap while they were both eating what she had just cooked after some amount of time screwing up on that exact same couch. She was wearing one of his t-shirts while he had just slipped a pair of sweatpants, and they were just talking, or at least they were before silence fell through, but it was fine, they were just being anyway.

“Dragon ?” She finally said while rolling a mouthful of spaghetti around her fork.

She only got a weird grumble in response to which she lightly chuckled.

“Have you ever thought about dying ?”

He blinked a little before swallowing his mouthful with difficulty and taking a sip of the beer that rested on the coffee table.

“the old man getting that unbearable, huh ?” He just smirked as she only raised an eyebrow that disappeared through her bangs, still a bit sweaty he noticed.

“I’m serious.”

He put down his plate as it was now empty and looked at her again after she did the same. She only stared at him, her bright blue eyes piercing his without any awkwardness while he settled back, bringing her legs against him and stroking them slightly.

Typical demon, tackling the real big questions like it was her usual Tuesday.

“Well, yeah, a little.” He only shrugged. “Like everyone else, I think.”

“Some people never think about it.”

“Well, I’m not everyone.”

“Of course not, dragon.” She giggled. “But that’s not answering the question.”

He only grumbled and looked at her like he didn’t like when she was talking to him like that. Which, of course, he did.

“I mean, I’ve already seen you almost dying on a hospital bed, didn’t that make you think ?”

Of course it did, how could it not ? He just didn’t like talking about it.

He sighed and brought back her legs against him before sliding to lie on top of her. She just giggled as she laid down too and slid her fingers into his hair before landing a quick kiss on the top of his head.

“I don’t know.” He mumbled. “I guess I just tried to avoid it”.

She hummed, she was going to fall asleep, he could tell by the way her breath was getting deeper and jolted as she was trying to keep herself awake.

“Have you ever thought about dying ?” He asked then with a frown.

“Sure.”

He frowned even more as he settled against her breasts, way too comfortable to be true, but loud as his ears were now trying to avoid getting completely drown into her heart’s beating. Sometimes, being a dragon slayer had his inconveniences. Not that he couldn’t stand to hear that, he just wished he didn’t have to concentrate that much to listen to whatever she was saying.

“…I mean, sure, my parents died a long time ago but that doesn’t mean I didn’t have to go through adolescence. Quite the opposite really.”

Shit, he really had no idea of what she was talking about now.

“What do you think ?” She asked then, completely oblivious to the fact that he hadn’t followed her reasoning at all.

He just grumbled. Hopefully, that would do the trick.

She just giggled and he clearly felt it as the hiccups shook her chest.

“Sure, when Lisanna died, I thought about jumping off a bridge, but… you know, my sister had just died so it was quite normal.”

He blinked, not remembering she couldn’t see his eyes at all and therefore wouldn’t be able to answer his puzzledness. He clearly heard her heart racing though as she said that. Apparently not as laid back about it as she was trying to seem.

He lifted his head up then, staring at her with a slight frown and a smirk. She just giggled even more at his cuteness and pushed the golden locks out of his face before planting a long kiss on his lips. He laid against her again and slid his right hand under the t-shirt, stroking the naked skin hidden by the fabric. She just shivered and seemed to relax again.

“Didn’t you almost die against one of the spriggans back then ?” He suddenly inquired as the idea passed his mind.

She tensed. He could also hear her heartbeat getting quicker again.

“Yeah, that was kind of traumatic.” She just giggled while kissing his hair again, probably trying to distract him, as if he would let her (he did, a lot, but the point was not tonight).

“What happened ?” He didn’t let go. “Lisanna said you got shot in the chest, but that seems unlikely.”

She sighed, her heart getting into some very weird tempo as she tried to speak.

“Why ?”

“Well, for starters you wouldn’t be able to be here now if you had.” He paused, listening to the race that was happening right below his ear. “Except if you’re actually dead right now and this is just me imagining you or something.”

She frowned.

“What, you mean like a ghost ?”

“Like in that weird movie with the kid when you learn the adult was a ghost since the beginning.”

She just frowned a lot. Her heart calming as he spoke.

“Do you have a lot of sex with ghosts ?”

“Well, I didn’t know you were one until now.”

She giggled.

“I guess I should stop seeing other ghosts now that you’re one.”

He went up in pain as the palm of her hand abruptly struck his head. But laid down again when he saw her still grinning. She felt calmer under his head now. Then, it raced again.

“It didn’t really hurt.” She just said and paused but went on as he was clearly not planning on replying. “I think it hurt on the moment but then I didn’t feel anything at all.”

He only rearranged his position and tried to find an adequate response as he could feel her heart getting so quick while she waited for his reaction.

“I didn’t see anything.” She paused. “People say you’re supposed to see your life flashing before your eyes but everything was just so dark. I still have a scar though.”

It wasn’t losing his rhythm as he tried to speak but she beat him to it.

“I guess, I was just disappointed to be alone, you know.”

He grumbled, losing his answer because her heart was taking too much of his hearing for him to concentrate. What time was it again ?

“I kind of regretted sending Lisanna away.” She finally said while the beating went slower. “But then, I just thought that if she had been here, she would have probably been dead too.”

“Maybe she could have helped you not getting killed.” He suddenly said, getting into some dangerous territory he knew.

“Maybe.” She simply replied.

He didn’t know if he had just said the wrong thing, but her heart beating seemed to finally calm down. And then it was just silent for a while. It was odd just them being, her snoozing lightly as he stroked her skin. It was too damn rare he thought. But then, he just came to the idea that doing more often would take all the fun out of it, and he didn’t like getting bored at all and neither did she for that matter. Things were fine as they were. Well, maybe not all of them, but then, who cared ?

“I guess, at the end, I just regretted not kicking your ass when I could.”

And he just laughed.

[hel-of-niflheim]

Yesterday was Raining

Today is January 5, 2020.

The sky finally warmed up from the heavy rain that fell since the start of the year.

Evelyn could feel the soft rays of the sun in the early morning.

Today is also the last day that she would stare at nothing and mumble randomness to her favorite pot plant that she has been taking care of for a golden number of years.

Before closing the white curtains of their worn-up window, she first inhaled the cool blows of the northeast only for her nostrils to be filled with the bittersweet aroma of the black coffee that she was heating.

Evelyn hurried to the kitchen and clumsily poured the coffee in two mugs,

staining the white lacy mantle.

“Ay putangina!” she said while wiping the brown color of the fabric as if it would instantly undo the tinge, but it only smeared more and burned her a little.

She earned a small chuckle from the old man sitting on a wheelchair at the table. “Almost 70 years and you still move with no grace,” his hoarse voice struggled to pitch higher. He has always been the silent man, especially up to now.

Evelyn did not respond and instead rolled her eyes. She held the mug, blew on it passionately, and put it on Laury’s lips. The old man then slowly sip, careful not to burn his mouth like what his wife did to her fingers.

Hmmm… Evelyn always makes good coffee. He remembered how she offered him one while waiting for the sun to rise during the day when he was still working for her family’s house. The coffee was the best thing he had tried. Its sugar did not take away the morning ache, but it added excitement from wanting to taste things other than bitterness. It tasted like an eternal chase for sunrise. Long after he finished the drink did he only took the liberty to glance at Evelyn. That was how they met and the house that he was making back then was theirs now.

“After never-ending years, we can think of nothing other than ourselves now,” Laury started.

Today is the first day that they would live in their house alone.

They already bid goodbye to their youngest daughter who was picked up by

her conveniently rich white husband yesterday.

And Evelyn knew what Laury meant by that. A trip. A trip that he had always asked her even from when their children just reached legality. But it never really happened. She promised to take him to the park yesterday, but the weather wasn’t so nice.

Now, nothing would hold them back.

She hardly felt at peace.

“You’re free as a bird, but not as healthy as a stallion.”

“You are the stallion—a clumsy one, I must say.”

“I’m not a stallion and I’m not your caregiver,” she said with an overdue weariness etched on her face.

“But you’re my wife,” he simply said.

“We, unfortunately, did not decide on that,” and the enthusiasm died.

It was true.

She was the only one willing about the marriage. Their parents arranged it all and had Laury part with his past lover who was secretly engaged to him.

He had always described his long-lost love as sunshine he would never feel again. His wife might have been adoringly strong like the black beans she always brews, but one can never easily outgrow a spark that was once believed to last forever. So Laury had no choice, then, but to cut strings

and Evelyn had to crawl on their first years as one.

Although she adored him deeply, the rift between them grew upon the ruins of his heart. He was like a sunflower longing to blossom, but it wasn’t she that he sought.

"Eve…”

"Sure, honey. We’ll go on a trip today. But later in the afternoon, we will visit your doctor.”

His frail façade shifted to satisfaction. The last time that he was left alone with only his wife, he still had black hair and dressed in a

stylish action star atmosphere.

After finishing breakfast, Evelyn put bags of clothes inside the car’s trunk. All the credit cards and money from her children were stashed in the compartment. She put Laury on the passenger’s seat, locked all possible doors in the house, and watered her plants generously—knowing that it would be a long time before she does it again.

After seating on the driver’s seat, Laury looked at her amused. “You’ll drive?”

She rolled her eyes and looked at his trembling body “Who else, will you?.”

“You once dreamt of being a racecar driver, Eve,” he said. He was struggling to speak out since aging got to him, “Baka maunahan kita sa

bilis mo magpatakbo.”

The old wife thought of what he said as nonsense and made sure she kept her eyes from rolling. He was the one in a wheelchair, of course, he’d go first.

And so today is an exciting day.

Evelyn and Laury would go on a trip together alone for the first time.

They had fun like in the past and agreed with each other without the influence of Evelyn’s coffee. They looked like they had been in a happily willing marriage all along. Building a safe and sound family for the children did strengthen their relationship. They even realized that their years of companionship weren’t really put to waste.

Today, the old couple got the chance to kindle their marriage.

They walked in a park, but Evelyn boasted that her garden was more flowery. They dined in a restaurant, but Laury insisted that his wife cooks his meal. They both fell asleep in the middle of the mass. Lastly, they longed for their peaceful house because it’s the only place where they were truly alone.

“Eve…” Laury said.

Evelyn went down to him and met his drowsy eyes.

“B-Beautiful.”

Evelyn’s heart swelled. Her eyes twinkled the same as before and even the stars, which were older and floated in an unknown universe, envied them because they had something they never once had—life.

It was the first time her husband called her beautiful and despite the wrinkles and fats all over her face, she felt as if the world stopped to look at her in every step.

His eyes passed hers and looked at her back, “…sunset.”

Oh. He meant that sunset is beautiful.

She stood up and continue to walk, ignoring the angst she felt.

“Okay, honey. It’s time to visit your doctor,” she noticed how his body became much feebler again. The tinge of color from his face a while ago slowly faded to pale cream.

They were about to drive to the hospital when Laury vehemently shook his head.

“S-sunset…” he pleaded, breathing’s hitched.

Laury looked at her knowingly as if waiting for his wife to take the hint.

Ah…

“Yes, love.”

It’s about high time. The day is about to end and she needed to make a big decision.

Now, Evelyn is driving back home.

“Eve…”

“Yes, my love, we’re almost there.”

“Eve…”

There he is with her name again… Always Eve—but never darling, love, or honey.

“Just a few houses to go. Hang in there, we’ll watch the sunset together.”

She glanced at Laury and found him smiling at her, but got shy and pulled away.

Back when their children were still in school, she remembered Laury blabbering about what a day is or something like that. She couldn’t remember exactly, but she never forgot about the sunset part when he said he wanted to romantically watch it together with her someday. Well, they always watch the sunset together from time to time, so it never occurred to her that it would be dramatic like now.

While driving, Evelyn suddenly thought of what his marriage with Laury was like. Although chaotic as it is, they have always been serene together, except that her heart was never put to ease. She made sure that he knew she loved him, but she also made it sure that she partly hated him for

putting thorns around her.

“Eve… L-lo--”

“Yes?”

They were finally back home. Laury fell asleep so his lids heavily drooped over his eyes. Evelyn woke him up until she got no response.

Dumbstruck by the sudden turn of events, it was the first time she felt numb.

“Laury… wake up… I’ll make you a coffee.”

----

This is the day Evelyn and Laury kindled their marriage.

Today is January 5, 2021.

Today is also the day that Laury died.

Evelyn took him inside the house, passing the wilting pot plant that swam in the water.

When they reached the garden where he could see the sunset, she started to weep.

The past sixty years had been spent as a perfect husband and wife, holding empty promises and chasing on so many things but time. He savored his morning dew too long while Evelyn kept on her bitter heart.

It was too late when Laury realized what kind of sunset he really wished to see. He failed to let her know that he had already loved her as his beautiful wife.

Now Evelyn remembered how Laury had begged her to go on a

trip with him yesterday as she caressed his face.

“Pasensiya ka na, ha… Umulan kasi kahapon.”

It was once full of life. His handsomeness was more golden than the rays of the sun that touched him.

[exodusmc]

Insider 01

Genre: Power au, war au, rebel au

Words: 1583

Paring: Light manipulator Baekhyun  x  Reader

Side character/s: Exo

Warning!: Talk about death and pain, nightmares, mentions of needles, panic, 

a/n: Oh oh oh, here it is, Insider! :)

Gif is not mine 

Outsider    Next 

White….everything was white and numb. You couldn't feel a thing, it was like you were floating inside light itself. Did you die? Had you finally spent all your time?...You didn't think so, not when blood would be all over your hands, their blood, the lives you took.

Your nightmare looked different now, you still felt your mother’s wind, you still cried, but her face was clearer and after the longs time in your life were soldiers dressed in black walking in. Their arms was neatly decorated with red but it wasn't humans which came, it was demons with their guns raised at you, a child crying for her mother. After that was their nothing again, just pain, pain and pain. You remember being so scared, you remember not knowing what was happening, and you don't remember anything more. It was just murder and more murder, kill, kill them all had they whispered like snakes in your ears. Everything was a lie and you died every time they said the words unnatural. You were already gone.

-

When Baekhyun opened his eyes was there at first black dots all over the white ceiling but they soon disappeared and brought back the feeling in his arms. Panic slowly rose in his bones, memories of his imprisonment and the test came to the surface. The machine to his right started to beep louder as his heart picked up its rhythm. Everything morphed back into the test cell, every wall became darker and he could only see the glass as the glowing green liquid was pushed into his body. Breathing harder, he tried to sit up, feeling all his blood rush down to his toes. Baekhyun would faint soon and he couldn't do anything, he had to get away, he would die if he stayed. A woman came in, dressed in a white coat and a blue mask over her face. She was one of them, she was going to hurt him. 

“N-n...N-no!”he crawled back, shaking as his hands went to his own throat. He couldn't breathe, why can't he breathe?

“It’s okay! Calm down!”she rushed to him, grabbing his arm when he tried to punch her. She was going to stick more needles in him, he couldn't let her do that! 

The woman glanced to the heart monitor, seeing the green line spike every second. She tired to calm him down, tired to get his hands away from his neck, but she couldn't. Baekhyun almost strangled himself. It was only when Yixing was rolled in with a wheelchair he stopped pressing. 

“Good morning Baekhyun, slept well?”the doctor’s voice was hoarse but he still wore a smile. 

Baekhyun managed to focus his eyes on the scar right above Yixing’s eyebrow, letting his hands fall down onto his blanket covered lap. Everything which happened before he passed out came back, the running, the shooting, the smell of blood, the explosion...and you. Where are you and where is he?

“I can imagine you are a little confused to where we are…”Yixing coughed, grabbing his chest before sitting up straight again. The woman was careful when she walked back to him. 

A wary gaze met her hands as they reached for his shoulders, which he realized hurt. She started to glow, a soft white and green light. It made him feel better, like every muscle in his body relaxed.

“I can imagine so too…”Baekhyun glanced at the opening, seeing a man standing there. His face was both sharp and round, hair dipping in a round circle around his forehead. Over his shirt was a dragon like charm hanging”..Right now are you in our intensive care section...My name is Junmyeon and I’m one of the leaders...Welcome to the rebels Baekhyun.”

-

Baekhyun stared at the wall, grey concrete climbing up and forming an almost identical corridor to the one at the hospital. Yixing moved his wheelchair himself, conversing with Junmyeon lowly as the three of them walked. He still didn't feel safe but he was out now, he wasn't locked in the box.

Swallowing, Baekhyun exhaled. Junmyeon had told him about how they found you, Yixing and himself, how they took you back as fast as they could. Thanks to the rebels you guys are still alive...or are you? Baekhyun wondered about you and where you were but why should he care? You tried to kill him and that’s all he knows regarding you. 

“Jun Jun bun bun!”a large man came running, his hair an electric blue while one of his eyes a vibrant red. His clothes weren't anything special but they were whole.”Who are they?”

“Good day Chanyeol..This is Yixing and Baekhyun…”there was a smile on Junmyeon’s face,  something which made his cheeks look soft. “They are out latest recruits..”

“Oh...Well we are happy to have you on our team!”Chanyeol had a curious gleam in his eyes, clearly showing how he wanted to ask more questions but opted for keeping quiet. 

Baekhyun remembered how he once thought he wanted to be a part of the rebels, to fight for what was their rights, but now..so much had happened and he felt useless, scared. It seemed like he could never get away the anxiety the hospital left. Yixing glanced at him, trailing his eyes up to the paler face of Baekhyun. He had a few scratches left but seemed to be in good physical shape...but mentally…

Suddenly did something start buzzing in Junmyeon’s pocket, a device with a few buttons. With a simple press on it did a voice come through. Baekhyun remember seeing something similar once...It was in the hand of  a soldier, they used walkie talkies to communicate over large areas.  

“Yes?”on the other side was there a scream, freezing Baekhyun. It was female, pleading for help, but he could only see a woman screaming as she was forced on the ground, dying.”What’s happening?! Hello, answer!”

Chanyeol was already running, his hair sticking out against the grey. Yixing pushed his wheelchair forward, moving as fast as he could. Panic rose in his chest because he heard something which Baekhyun didn't...She is awake!

“Come on Baekhyun!” Junmyeon’s voice brought him back, made him realize he weren't in the hospital canteen, he didn't see her die.”Move!”

“Stand back!”rounding the last corner, Yixing managed to catch up with Chanyeol, but he had a raised gun, his eyes held no mischief.”I said stand back!”

The hospital room was chaos, beeding laying over the floor and machines was screaming. Someone was crying, their sobbs sounding choked from the corner, but it was maybe justified when the girl had a scalpel pressed against her jugular. 

Chanyeol raised the gun higher, taking a threatening stand so he could push forward. On the inside was he fuming..because why did they take in someone who was out to kill them? Why risk so many for an ex-soldier who clearly stood on the other side.

“Y/n..It’s okay...put the knife down, please?” your cold eyes landed on Yixing, watching as he rolled in to lay a hand on Chanyeol’s, calming the taller. “We are safe here..”

You glared at him, wondering if he realized that he may be safe but you weren't because you weren't like them, suddenly an outsider on the enemy's ground. The nurse who had tried to touch you cried a little louder, annoying you to no end. She had been pleading none stop, her voice feeling like a scratch on the blackboard. You let go of her, pushing her so she fell to her knees before crawling away. The stare of you had with the giant never simmered down, no both of you still threw daggers at the other. 

“Drop the knife.”he growled lowly, puffing his chest to intimidate, but he didn't know what you had done before, who you had fought and won over. 

“Calm down both of you!”Junmyeon marched into the room, Baekhyun right on his tail. He was angry, pissed, but knew better than to scream.”We are not here to fight…”

“She could have hurt Mina!”Chanyeol turned to his leader, upset at him for not understanding. 

Your eyes moved between everyone, glaring, none trusting. Standing there, you suddenly realized that you no longer had an ally, because everyone had become your enemy when you helped Yixing and Baekhyun. 

“I know Chanyeol, so back down and leave before You hurt anyone…”the named man looked baffled for a second before he left in a storm of heating air.”..I’m sorry for him..but he doesn't really mean it, it’s just his life hasn't been the easiest.”

“We understand that, right Y/n?”Yixing watched you with eyes which said you should agree but you didn't want to...feeling so defeated when you nodded.

“Good...well it’s nice to meet you, my name is Junmyeon, welcome to the rebels..”it felt surreal when he spoke. You had spent your life killing people like them, brought them to research facilities..and now where you standing right in their hiding place.

Staring at Junmyeon, the supposed leader of the whole ordeal, you realized you had seen him before. The hair and lips which arched. It was the soldier you saw a time which seemed so far away, the soldier Yixing had stopped you from following. He knew..he knew all the time.

Tags: @shesdreaminginoverdose​

[btsqualityy]

Amour Vincit Omnia / Epilogue

11 Months Later / New Year’s Eve

“Kira?” Jimin called excitedly and Akira turned away from where she had been talking to her mom and brother to see Jimin jogging up to her. “You have another person who wants to talk to you about buying a piece.”

“Can’t you handle it Jimin?” Akira wondered, her feet already starting to hurt,  both from her heels and how much she had walked around Jin’s gallery even though it had only been an hour since the exhibition had started. “You know my prices.”

“The life of an in-demand artist, huh?” Jimin teased, making her laugh. “I got you though Kira.”

“Thanks Jimin,” she smiled, watching as he walked away from her before turning back to her mom and brother, who were both grinning widely. “What?”

“I’m just so proud of you,” Tonya chuckled. “You’ve been talking about the day where you’d finally have your own solo art exhibition ever since you graduated from art school and now here we are.”

“Well, none of this would be possible if it weren’t for Keem,” Akira said as she looked over at her brother, who was leaning onto his cane. After Akeem spent a few weeks in the hospital recovering, he was discharged and immediately began intensive physical therapy. It took months until he was able to even stand up on his own so he spent the first 8 months of the year in a wheelchair, which meant that he wasn’t able to walk across the stage at his high school graduation but he fully soaked up the attention that came with being wheeled across the stage instead.

“You’re damn right,” Akeem joked, hissing when Tonya smacked him in the back of the head. “If I didn’t need someone to accompany me to therapy, you would’ve never gotten that picture.” While Akeem was in the most grueling part of his physical therapy, Akira would often accompany him just to help out if need be and make sure that he was doing alright. 

One day, during his usual cool down period where he rested from pushing his body to it’s current limits, Akira caught a glimpse of him sitting in his wheelchair and staring out of a window. What amazed her was that that particular session had been really tough for him and yet, he was sitting and smiling as he simply watched squirrels chase each other around. Akira snuck a picture of him and ended up doing a watercolor painting of it which she titled “Black Boy Joy”. She posted it to her social media accounts and it ended up going viral, which subsequently led to the sudden popularity of her art. 

“Admittedly though, I never thought that that painting was gonna blow up the way that it did,” Akeem admitted and Akira nodded in agreement.

“Me either,” She smiled. “But I’m glad that it was that photo out of any of the other ones that I’ve ever done.”

“Don’t get sappy on me,” he groaned, lifting his cane and smacking her leg lightly. 

“Kira!” Akira heard someone shout and when she turned around, she saw Cassie and Hobi pushing their way through the large crowd.

“You made it!” Akira exclaimed, allowing Cassie to gather her up into a tight hug.

“You think us moving to Florida would keep me away from your big night?” Cassie scoffed playfully, making Akira smile gratefully.

“We would’ve been here sooner, but someone took forever getting dressed,” Hobi snickered and Cassie shot him a glare before looking back at Akira. 

“It’s getting hard to style this bump,” Cassie chuckled as she reached down and rubbed her 6-month baby bump. 

“How’s my god daughter doing in there?” Akira wondered as she set her hand on Cassie’s stomach.

“She’s high maintenance already,” Cassie giggled. 

“Just like her mother,” Hobi muttered. 

“You two are just in time though,” Akira announced as she looked up at the clock before Cassie was able to castrate Hobi. “It’s about time for me to give a speech.”

“Oh, we really are on time then,” Cassie giggled, and Akira flicked her arm in response. Just then, Jin clapped his hands loudly. 

“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” He said loudly, waiting until all of the chatter throughout the gallery had died down before continuing on. “My name is Kim Seokjin and I am the founder and owner of the Healing Gallery. As you’re all aware, we’re here tonight to celebrate the first solo exhibition of one of my best friends, Akira Lewis!” The crowd erupted into applause, and Jin waited until they stopped to keep talking. 

“Since this is her first solo exhibition, I’m gonna let her come up here and say what she wants to so Akira?” Jin called and Akira nodded before walking up to the front of the gallery where Jin was, giving him a quick kiss on the cheek before turning to face the large crowd.

“Ok, this crowd looks a lot larger from this viewpoint so now I’m nervous,” she admitted, making the crowd chuckle. “But I’m gonna keep this really short and sweet because all of this is still kind of surreal for me and it hasn’t completely set in yet. Firstly, I want to thank my mom Tonya and my brother Akeem, who you all might recognize from the ‘Black Boy Joy’ painting. The two of them have always supported me and my dreams and I’m very grateful to them.”

“You’re welcome!” Akeem called out, making the crowd burst out into laughter. 

“I’d also like to thank my best friends who are all over there in the corner, being embarrassing and recording this entire speech on their phones,” Akira laughed as she motioned her hand over to where Jin, Yoongi, Namjoon, Hobi, Cassie, Jimin, and Jungkook were standing. “All of them have put up with me fussing about my work at some point or another and they’ve also been there for me whenever I call them so thank you guys as well.”

“We love you Kira!” They all replied, making her smile as her cheeks heated up in embarrassment. Akira turned back to face the crowd and she couldn’t help but to notice the front door to the gallery opening as she did so, the sounds of the New Year’s Eve traffic flowing into the gallery momentarily.

“And finally, I’d like to,” Akira started to say but she paused as the stranger who had walked into the gallery took the hood of his jacket off of his head, realizing that it was Taehyung. She gasped softly but quickly regained her composure, putting on a soft smile to the rest of the crowd. “I’d like to thank the person who has been my inspiration for a while now. A lot of these pieces that you see were created thanks to them so I’m also grateful to them. Thank you all for coming out tonight and please, buy lots of pieces!” Akira laughed, making the crowd do the same as they applauded for her. 

“You did great,” Jungkook assured her as she walked over to them, and Akira smiled at him.

“Thanks for lying to me,” she replied.

“No problem,” Jungkook smirked knowingly.

“I’m so proud of you kiddo,” Yoongi whispered, sweeping her up into a hug.

“Thanks Yoongi,” she muttered, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek. “For everything.”

“Me too,” Namjoon spoke up and Akira let go of Yoongi before she stepped over to him, giving him a kiss on the cheek as well which made him blush intensely.

“Hey pretty girl,” Akira heard and when she turned around, Taehyung was standing right in front of her.

“You came,” she breathed out, and Taehyung smiled softly.

“I couldn’t miss your first solo show,” he chuckled, giving her his signature boxy smile. Just as Akira moved to open her mouth to reply, Jin walked over to her and touched her shoulder softly.

“You have some buyers that want to talk with you,” he told her and Akira nodded her head, even though the last thing that she really wanted to do was step away from Taehyung. “Stay and we’ll talk later?” She said as she looked back to him.

“Of course,” he nodded and she smiled softly before letting Jin lead her away.

.......................

Akira didn’t end up seeing Taehyung again during the rest of her exhibition, because a lot of the guests there took her “buy more pieces” comment very literally. By the end of the show, everyone was heading out to their respective New Year’s Eve plans. 

“Are you sure you don’t want me to wait with you?” Akeem asked Akira as the two of them slid into their jackets. Akira’s mother had gone back to Akira’s place and Akeem was joining Akira and the rest of her friends to pregame before heading to Times Square to see the ball drop.

“Nah, you go ahead with Yoongi,” Akira assured him. “I just have a few things to tie up here and then I’ll meet you guys at Jimin’s.”

“Ok, we’ll be waiting,” he nodded, leaning over and giving her a kiss on the cheek before walking out of the gallery and meeting Yoongi outside. As Akira gathered the last of her things, she noticed Taehyung standing in front of one of her paintings. 

“Hey,” she called out as she walked over to him, making him look over his shoulder at her. “You’re still here?”

“You promised me that talk,” he shrugged and Akira couldn’t help but to laugh. He held his arms open and Akira immediately allowed herself to fall into them, hugging him tightly. “How have you been pretty girl?”

“I’ve been great, great,” she nodded before pulling away from the hug to look at him. “What about you?”

“Pretty good,” he said. “You did great tonight. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, following his gaze that was on a painting of a silhouette that she did. 

“Is this supposed to be me?” Taehyung questioned suddenly as he turned to look at her. 

“Is it that obvious?” Akira giggled.

“I mean, I know myself,” he chuckled.

“Yeah, it’s you,” she admitted.

“Ok, so does that mean I’m the person who’s been ‘inspiring you for a while now’?” He recited and Akira groaned as she nodded her head.

“I must be completely transparent,” She tutted and he shook his head.

“I kind of just put two and two together after seeing this,” he said, motioning to the silhouette painting in front of you two. “Although I’ll admit, I don’t understand how I was your inspiration when we’ve been broken up for almost a year and haven’t seen each other in nearly as long.”

“Well, you know how I stayed in Michigan after you left?” Akira said and Taehyung nodded. “I basically ended up moving back home for about six months to help my mom out with Keem and there was just so much going on, I kind of lost any motivation to paint. It actually kind of freaked me out because I’ve never experienced that.”

“You had a lot going on Kira,” he whispered and Akira smiled softly.

“Yeah well, that feeling lasted until I moved back to New York and I saw the picture of you that I had used for reference when I did that small canvas that I gave you for Christmas. Something about seeing that picture just...spurred me on and I ended up making this,” she told him, pointing to the painting of him. “It was the first time that I really took the time to think about our relationship and reflect, which is why it’s just a silhouette of you.”

“Wow,” Taehyung huffed. “The shadow of what used to be there.”

“Yeah,” she nodded, knowing that he’d understand what she meant. “But I thanked you as my inspiration because once I finished this, it’s like the fog that was hanging over my creativity was lifted and I created all of the pieces that were on display tonight afterwards. Even ‘Black Boy Joy;.”

“I’m happy for you Kira,” he replied genuinely and she smiled before looking down at the ground for a few seconds as a silence fell over the two of them. 

“I heard about your uncle,” Akira spoke up suddenly and Taehyung sighed. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Not much of a loss, really,” he chuckled bitterly. 

“I figured as much but I know that it probably felt weird and I’m sorry for not reaching out,” she replied. 

“Don’t beat yourself up about it,” he shrugged. “This is probably gonna sound really bad, but it was kind of the push I needed.”

“What do you mean?” She wondered. 

“After we broke up, I didn’t know how to go about ‘finding myself’ the way that you had suggested so I just threw myself back into working and creating the new line for Vantae,” Taehyung started. “Once uncle Byun passed and I went back to Korea for the funeral, I realized that my uncle had no one at his funeral to tell any funny stories about their time with him, or how he had impacted their lives in a positive way and all I could think about was that...I didn’t want to end up like that.” 

“Taehyung,” Kira whispered, reaching out and touching his arm lightly.

“The day after the funeral, I took an extended leave of absence from Vantae and stayed home with my parents,” Taehyung smiled. “It was kind of weird at first, given the fact that I haven’t lived or spent any extended length of time with my parents since I was 18, but it was great.”

“I know that your mom was happy about that,” Akira smiled and Taehyung nodded his head while laughing.

“Oh, she was over the moon,” he grinned. “Being home for so long forced me to kind of face all of the things that I had been burying concerning my uncle and how he treated me and I ended up having what could be called a little ‘breakdown’.”

“Not surprising,” Akira muttered.

“After that, I decided to go into therapy and Dr. Kwon, that’s her name, she really helped me realize exactly how manipulative my uncle was. Just not of me, but my entire family and how that manipulation has manifested itself into my life,” he explained. 

“That’s amazing Tae,” Akira praised, and Taehyung chuckled in embarrassment. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks. Now, I’m back in New York and I just started art school at the beginning of the semester,” he revealed, making Akira gasp loudly.

“Get out of here, you serious?” She questioned with a wide grin and he nodded his head proudly. “What about Vantae?” 

“After a lot of soul searching, I decided to step down as CEO of Vantae back in August,” he said. “I’m still on the board and I’m an investor, but I don’t have to deal with day-to-day logistics and designing anymore.”

“Aw, don’t you miss it?” She wondered. “I know Vantae was your baby.”

“Actually, I don’t,” he admitted. “I love designing and creating but with me starting art school, it just showed me that I was attached to only that aspect of the Vantae and not the business part.”

“That makes sense,” Akira murmured in understanding. 

“Maybe in the future, I’ll start my own company. Something that’s truly mines and something that I can build from the ground up,” he sighed. 

“Wow,” Akira huffed. “You’re so different now.”

“Nah, not really,” he shrugged. “I just sorted through my trauma and dyed my hair back to black.”

“And that makes a lot of difference,” Akira scoffed. “The trauma part, at least.”

“Aw, you don’t like the black?” He questioned with a smirk and Akira rolled her eyes playfully.

“I loved the blue, but I guess you’re still pretty cute like this too,” she joked.

“Pretty cute,” he repeated while shaking his head. “You really know how to cut a man deep Kira.”

“Oh, shut up,” she laughed, making Taehyung do the same. Once their giggles had died down, she was left with a smile on her face. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” he replied honestly. 

“What do you have planned for tonight?” She asked him suddenly.

“Nothing, was just gonna hang out at home with Yeontan,” he shrugged.

“Who’s that?”

“Oh yeah, I got a dog,” he laughed. “Forgot that part.”

“First off, I have to meet him,” Akira said seriously and Taehyung nodded his head. “Secondly, come out with us tonight instead.”

“Ah, I don’t know Kira,” he chuckled awkwardly. 

“It’ll be more fun than hanging out with your dog,” she tutted.

“Ok, Yeontan resents that,” Taehyung laughed. 

“Seriously Tae, come with us,” she pleaded. “I want you to.”

“You sure?” He wondered and Akira reached down and grabbed his hand, intertwining her fingers with his.

“More than sure,” she nodded. 

“Alright,” he grinned, looking down at their hands. She led to the front door of the gallery, turning off all of the lights before dragging Taehyung out into the busy streets of New York, their hands never leaving each others. 

[winterreader-nowwriter]

Right By My Side

Details: Reader’s sister (Sierra) and Reader are in a car crash and Sierra dies, but not everything is how it seems. Tony is there for the Reader.

“Since you picked the movie, I’m driving.”

Sierra laughs, “No way, you’re not driving. Your driving is crazier than Tony’s. Both of you should have your licenses’ revoked and as a federal agent I think I could do that.”

I laugh and shake my head, “Federal agents wish they could drive like us. Our driving is awesome, you just can’t handle it.”

“One of the many reasons why you two are married, but nope, I’m still driving.”

As we get into the car, me in the passenger seat, sadly, I have an uneasy feeling. Shaking it off, I put my seatbelt on.

As we cross the intersection, a car comes speeding out of nowhere and swerves into us, before either of us can react. The car goes flying and then starts spinning. I look over and Sierra and I grab each other’s hands and then my head slams back against the headrest and everything goes black. 

I wake up to a stabbing headache, blurry flashes: being wheeled into a hospital, seeing Tony, going into surgery before everything goes black again.

I wake up to a dull headache, everything hurts. I lift my hand to my nose. There’s a cannula there. I pull on it, but a hand gently pulls mine away, “Honey, can you open your eyes?”

I open them and bright light floods in and I wince and blink a few times to clear my vision. I’m in the Medbay. Tony looks worried but relieved from a chair next to my bed. I try and sit up, but wince. “What happened?” I rasp. The headache from before returning.

Tony gets up and hands me a cup of water and only then do I notice the brace on my right hand. He speaks quietly, “You were in a car crash with Sierra. Do you remember?”

I try and sit up, Tony already had his hand on my shoulder preventing me from sitting up, “Stop trying to move. You have some broken ribs, a sprained wrist, a broken leg, and a concussion.”

“What about Sierra?”

Tony answers, “She’s fine. Well relatively speaking. Because is anyone fine after a car crash? Especially--”

I interrupt him, “Tony...”

He continues, “She has a broken and sprained wrist, a concussion, and some broken ribs. Pretty similar to you.”

I breathe a sigh of relief. At least she’s okay. I blink tiredly and Tony notices. “You should get some rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.”

I close my eyes. I see me and Sierra in the car, right before the crash and I try and move. To tell Sierra, but I can’t talk or move. I start screaming when a hands shake my shoulders. “Y/N!” “Y/N!” I gasp and open my eyes. Tony is breathing heavily and sits back down and rubs soothing circles on my hand. The heart rate monitor is still beeping crazily. Tony puts my non-injured hand on his chest and takes slow breaths. He waits until my breathing is back to normal before asking, “Nightmare?”

I nod slowly and take another deep breath before asking, “When can I see Sierra?”

Tony gives a soft smile, “Maybe later today. It’s around 2 a.m., so when she wakes up. Think you can go back to sleep?”

I shake my head and he pulls out his tablet, “Genius idea on my part.”

I smile at that, while he sits next to me careful not to move my leg or IV. He pulls up Criminal Minds and I lay my head on his shoulder. He kisses my forehead before pressing play. We watch at least three episodes before I fall asleep. 

When I wake up again, daylight is streaming in through the window. I try and sit up, and am pleasantly surprised that the stabbing pain I was expecting is more of a deep bruise. Bruce walks in and his eyes widen. “Y/N, you’re up. How are you feeling?”

I gesture to my ribs, “What happened?”

Bruce responds, “Well you know Shuri and T’Challa brought their advanced vibranium technology and Stark Industries is further developing it?”

I nod and he continues, “Well Tony, Dr. Cho, and I implemented it into our medical department. Dr. Cho regenerated the parts of your ribs you broke when she was plating them. Your leg will take another week because she couldn’t regenerate all of it at once.”

That explains a lot. I ask, “Did the same thing happen to Sierra?”

Bruce nods, “Both of your concussions will take longer to heal than everything else.” Bruce takes his glasses off, “I’ll let you rest, call me if you need anything and stay off that leg.”

Tony walks in soon after Bruce leaves and says softly to not bother my head, “Was Banner sentencing you to bed rest?”

“Technically he said to stay off my leg. Can you help me up?”

Tony sighs, “Can you at least wait until tomorrow, so you don’t give me a heart attack.”

“You have an arc reactor, I don’t think a heart attack would phase you.”

Tony nods thoughtfully, “Probably right, I should figure that out.”

I swing my legs over the bed and Tony asks, “Wheelchair?”

I shake my head, “Wheelchairs are for old people and I’m fine.”

Tony continues, “But what if and this is just a thought; you sat in a chair and I had to move it over to the next room. So it just happened to have wheels on it, so it could be easier for me of course.”

I laugh and wince a little, “Fine, just this once.”

Tony grins, “I painted one to match your suit.”

“You did not.”

“I did. I wasn’t sure if you would agree so I didn’t build a hovering chair, but that can be arranged.”

I shake my head and smile at him, “Tony, help me into the chair before I change my mind.”

Tony kisses me and gently picks me up and puts me in the wheelchair.

I wheel over to Sierra’s room and see her sitting up in bed. “Sierra! You’re okay! How are you feeling?”

At the same time, she says, “Y/N! You’re okay!”

After a few minutes, I say, “You’re going to stay with us until your better, I don’t want to hear any excuses.”

Tony says, “We have the room and Y/N is the most stubborn person I know.”

Two and a half weeks later...

Tony walks up behind me and says, “It feels weird for Sierra to be gone. I’m almost used to her living with us.”

I nod, “Definitely, I’m going to miss living with her again… I know it’s only been a few days, but I miss her already.”

Just then Natasha runs in, “Panic button was pressed, let’s move. Y/N, you might want to sit this one out.”

“Why? The doctor cleared me yesterday,” I respond while pressing my watch. As Natasha responds my suit’s nanotech is at work.

“It’s Sierra.”

I don’t respond, just press my watch so the window opens and shoot out of the Tower towards Sierra’s place in Brooklyn. I burst through the door blasters at the ready. I enter Sierra’s kitchen and see her on the floor, a glass cup shattered next to her. Tony arrives soon after and clears the house, but I don’t move. I check for a pulse, but there isn’t one.

I stand frozen even as the crime scene techs arrive and Tony pulls me into his arms and crying. The next few days pass in a blur. On the day of the funeral, it was raining and I thought it was fitting that even Mother Nature knew one of its best people was gone.

After that, I shut down. I spent a while sitting in bed staring at the ceiling, barely sleeping or eating. One day, I was still sitting in bed, when Tony walked in. He didn’t say anything at first, then, “Sierra wouldn’t want you to fall apart, she’d want you to move on.”

I don’t say anything and he continues, “That asshole wins if you let yourself fall apart.”

I finally look up at him and he looks slightly relieved but still worried, “It’s my fault,” I whisper, my voice raspy from disuse.

Tony shakes his head, “She was poisoned with botulinum toxin because of her job, there was nothing either of us could have done.”

I nod knowing he’s right, but also hoping that will end the conversation. Tony gets up, “The best revenge is living well. So come on, this is your last time sitting in here, it’s been four weeks.”

I hadn’t realized it had been that long. I stand up and Tony asks, “Does that mean you’re back in the land of the living and Shawarma?”

I nod, “It’s been too long. And I know she’s gone... ” I break off crying.

Tony hugs me, and whispers, “You’re strong enough.”

When I’m done crying, he grabs my hand, “I started a bath for you with most of your bath perfumes and there’s Japanese food ready when you get out. When you’re done eating, we’re going to go to sleep and in the morning I’ll be playing ACDC while we go over the week’s schedule.”

He kisses me and I hug him hard, “Thank you for everything.”

He smiles, “You’ve more than made up for with all the stupid things I’ve done, and honey, I’m right here for you.”

Taglist: @snarky--starky

[reddie-fangirl24]

'you're glowing' with reddie please 🖤🖤

THANK YOU FOR YOUR COMMISSION!

NOTE: This is also @katelyn-rose2‘s request to have a Reddie crossover of the famous Unchained Melody pottery scene from the film, Ghost. I wrote it with 1990 Reddie. Enjoy it!

Support me on my Ko-Fi! 

On an evening where Richie did not have any performances, he was home for the night. He and Eddie hadn’t spent much together in the past few weeks. For most of the evening, Richie spent reflecting on the past. Two years ago, Mike Hanlon brought the Losers back to Derry to defeat the menacing clown once and for all. Once they checked that off the list, Richie didn’t leave Derry alone. 

Eddie was believed to have died after he bravely stepped in to save his friends from the deadlights. Luckily, Richie carried him out only for the man with golden hair to utter his name when they got out of the sewers. Following that, Eddie spent hundreds of hours in the hospital recuperating. 

Eddie’s bones took a while to heal even hindering him to a wheelchair for some time. Richie refused to let him give in to deeming himself as a cripple as his mother did. That woman wanted to put her own son in an assistant living home!

No way in hell did that happen. In fact, something that Richie never expected in his wildest dreams happened. For about a year, he and Eddie dated. It wasn’t like the relationship was out of the blue or anything. These feelings had been manifesting for a long time. And Richie denied the feelings for some time. That must have been why all those four or five marriages and engagements didn’t work out. 

That night, Eddie was working on pottery in the bedroom while Richie flipped through the channels. Nothing entertaining on. That was when he had an idea. 

Hearing music turn on, Eddie concentrated on his project. He started taking pottery lessons as a way to build up the strength in his arm muscles. They suffered the worst from the incident. He never realized how creative he was. He set his art by the window to which people marveled over. Richie also used some of his sculptures as decorations in some of his acts. 

‘Oh, my love, my darling, I’ve hungered for your touch...’

“Hey, Spaghetti-Man,” Richie greeted leaning against the door frame. 

Eddie turned around. He was completely distracted with the way Richie stood in the doorway, his little mustache curving over his mouth as he smiled. He looked so handsome. 

“Hi,” he greeted him, with a sweet smile. 

“What’s up?”

“Making a vase.”

Richie hummed, staring him up and down. Eddie knew that look very well. On the night when they first made love, Richie stared at him just like that, making sure that he felt safe. Feeling his heart racing, that night was the best night Eddie ever had. All those years, waiting, feeling unsure, to have Richie make him a man. It was all so worth it.

Returning his focus back on the pottery which almost collapsed, gliding his hands up and down, somebody sat close behind him. A hand tickled at his side. 

“Hey, you know that tickles!” Eddie giggled, trying to elbow Richie. Richie laughed, watching him create his sculpture for a moment.

Ignoring him, Richie nibbled at his ear, kissing down his neck. Goosebumps erupted on Eddie’s skin making him in delight. The man smoothed his hands across his shoulders and down his arms, feeling the sticky pottery encased on his hands and wrists as they tried to create a piece of pottery together. Richie attempted to make one once. He completely wrecked the house forced the two of them to clean up the mess. 

Losing his focus, Eddie’s entire creation broke down, limp.

“Timber!” Richie belted, holding Eddie around his stomach and pulling him close. He smoothed his hands back down his arms and to his hands again. He loved the feeling of Eddie’s soft hands that were so gentle. 

Eddie turned around, giving him a look. “Did you do that on purpose?”

“Who me?”

“You’re bored, aren’t you?”

Richie smoothed his hands up his boyfriend’s spine. “What makes you say that, Eddie?”

Succumbing to Richie’s game, Eddie turned around and caught Richie’s lips, kissing him. His mustache always tickled his face. Once Richie asked him if he should shave it off. Eddie immediately dispersed the idea. That was Richie’s trademark. 

‘Oh, my love...’

The music surrounded the room, making the moment all the more intimate. As they kissed, Eddie went ahead and unbuttoned Richie’s shirt, letting his clammy hands smooth down the flesh of his back. At first, Richie thought about picking Eddie up and spinning him through the air, but who was he kidding? He wasn’t in his twenties anymore. 

‘Time goes by so slowly, and time can do so much...’

“Hey, you’re getting me filthy,” Richie joked between the kisses which slowly became more heated. Eddie had a strong tongue which surprised him the first time they made out. 

Eddie looked at him, an electric stare that made Richie’s insides skyrocket. Reaching down he grabbed Eddie’s behind making the man jump in surprise but smile even more. His teeth bit at his lips. How was he so cute? “Don’t you like getting dirty?” And he kissed his heart.

“Oh, aren’t you the little demon tonight?” Richie unhooked the man’s suspender straps and whipped his shirt off. Flesh to flesh, the men kissed slowly dancing in the room to the music, continuing to feel each others soft skin. Eddie’s hand descending against his chest, to his stomach, until Richie felt a hand find its way into his pants making him yell out in delight.

Falling into the bed and whipping off their clothing, excited screams echoed throughout the room until Richie collapsed on Eddie’s chest. Gasping to catch his breath, Eddie picked up his boyfriend’s fast so he could look into his swimming eyes. 

‘I need your love, God speed your love to me.’

“You’re growing,” Richie told him. “Just like a heaping bowl of...”

“If you say it, Richie, I’ll knock you off the bed!” Eddie warned him.

For once, Richie kept his mouth shut and they cuddled in their embrace from the rest of the evening.