#children mercy hospital

[theglitterdome]

Lynda Carter visits Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City, Missouri during her Miss World America tour in 1973.

Happy Birthday Lynda Carter!

July 24, 1951

[dragons1re]

Children's Mercy hospital is a hospital that has saved many lives-including some of my close friends. well as doing so so so much for not only childhood cancer research but also just childhood health in general. Their location in KC (Kansas City) is running low on books for NICU babies, and is doing a book drive. This is their amazon wishlist, if you can, I recommend buying one or two for them, and/or sharing this around!! https://www.amazon.com/hz/wishlist/ls/1H8FDTWOGWALP?ref_=wl_share

[save-mohamed-family]

My campaign is verified and added to the Gaza Donations page with number 192.

Thank you for documenting my campaign from the following accounts:

@sar-soor @heba-20 @el-shab-hussein @90-ghost @soon-palestine@ibtisams @marnota @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @i-am-aprl @northgazaupdates @fallahifag @fairuzfan

I love you all 🙏🙏♥️🌹

I am Mohammed Almanasra, 32 years old, married, and a father of three children: Abdulrahman, 6 years old, Sarah, 4 years old, and Lina, 3 years old.

My story began with the loss of my parents and four of my sisters, who were bombed and lost their lives along with their children after the events of October 7 and the severe war on Gaza. Now, I am facing a severe injury to my leg, which is at risk of amputation if I do not receive the necessary treatment. My wife, children, and I are displaced, without parents or siblings, and my wife is also suffering from uterine cancer.

Recently, I moved to the south of the Gaza Strip, fearing for the lives of my children. We left behind our memories and our new home, for which we had not finished paying the installments, in addition to losing my job. Currently, I live in a tent that does not protect me from the heat of summer or the cold of winter, and without the minimum necessary livinng basics including water, food medical care, clothe and even bedding .

I suffer from a chronic asthma and severe attacks from tightness and an extreme allergy in the ear and I need medicine that are not available, or very expensive .

Under these difficult circumstances, after five attempts at displacement and narrowly escaping death from the bombing, I am trying with all my might to protect my family, the most precious thing I have.

My dreams were shattered, and my house was destroyed, and I found myself living in a tent no larger than 4 square metres. My work turned from a tailor to a street vendor in order to barely buy a few crumbs of bread to feed my children.

Look at what happened to my children because of the intense heat and the insects that thrive in the summer season. Every day, I take them to the hospital to treat them due to poisonous insect bites. I implore every kind-hearted soul to help me protect my children.

My son, Abdul Rahman, has a deep passion for playing football and is a devoted fan of Real Madrid. He always dreamed of playing football at his school, but the war prevented this dream from coming true.

Where are you, Real Madrid fans ?

Help Abdul Rahman achieve his dream.

Every donation will make an enormous difference in helping me save my family.

I feel very sad and embarrassed to ask for help, but I have no other options left. I know that this request is difficult, but I also know that there is still humanity and living consciences and I believe in miracles.

Your support during this extremely difficult time will give us hope in the midst of devastation and despair.

If you have any inquiries or questions, feel free to ask me, please!

To everyone with a compassionate heart,

To all who understand the essence of humanity,

This is a message from my innocent children, who trust that their words will reach everyone who truly understands the meaning of childhood.

We cry out to you, asking you to feel our sorrow and pain, and to extend a helping hand to us in this time when we are in desperate need of your mercy and compassion.

My name is being repeatedly added to many public and private donation campaigns. Please, be a support for me in this difficult situation.

https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/u/0/d/1yYkNp5U3ANwILl2MknJi9G7ArY4uVTEEQ1CVfzR8Ioo/htmlview

Sincere greetings & thanks

Mohammed & the family

[dgf2099]

The Driver Suit Blog-Paint Scheme Grades-May 11, 2024

By David G. Firestone Ross Chastain #1 Busch Light Crocs Chevy Camaro-Too over designed, too ugly. F Austin Cindric #2 Snap On Ford Mustang-The gray to black motif works, and the red lettering works. A Ryan Blaney #12 Menard’s/Cardell Cabinetry Ford Mustang-Same scheme as last year, same A grade. Riley Herbst #15 Monster Energy Zero Sugar Ford Mustang-The green stripe works well, scheme looks…

[mahmoud0qassas]

Happy new year, and Eid Mubarak

Yesterday, the Israeli army launched three raids, and the raids were so close that shrapnel from rockets fell on our tents.

Please watch the video as fragments fall on our tent and our children are screaming and crying saying that the fragments are falling on us. It is worth mentioning that the video shows part of my family members, including a disabled person with quadriplegic cerebral palsy since birth.

I personally was injured in my back in order to protect my family and children, and I was transferred to a hospital to receive treatment

Yesterday, we wrote a new life, but if other attacks occur, we may become martyrs, so if you want us to remain alive and live happily, this is in your hands by donating to us and contributing to saving an entire family consisting of 42 individuals.

The fate of our lives depends on you, so have mercy on us and our dream is to collect the money and all of us travel and live in safety

[tswiftupdatess]

More of Taylor at the Children’s Mercy Hospital in Kansas City today!

(December 12, 2024)

[superheroesfordoaareport]

The Kate and Clint Adventures- Adventure 2: The Plaza (Video)

[thelattertimesofbeingcrazyfc]

Time With God - Part 2

The Conclusion I remember the moment after my spinal surgery in 2009-2010, when my doctor came into my hospital room and informed me and my family that I had nearly died during my surgery. I hadn’t come out of my anesthesia and the surgeons were about to give up trying to revive me. My family and I were horrified, yet thankful that I had somehow made it through.  Now when I look back, I am…

[mind-intheclouds342]

A new ladder - Reader x Curly

BEFORE I START

Yes, another story of Curly. What can i do? I love him.

THIS IS ALL INSPIRED BY THIS AWESOME ARTIST THAT I FOUND ON TIKTOK

btw the curly of this story will kook like this so you can already imagine him.

The user is ladonb.kokosa

PLEASE GO CHECK THEIR ART ITS WONDERFUL

That being said. Lets get start with

Part 1 - Next

"Cryostasis ended"

"His vital signs are stable"

"Who could it be?"

"Disinfect the wounds"

"There are no more survivors"

"They authorized us to give him the implant."

The man could hear several voices in the distance, he saw silhouettes, shadows, he couldn't distinguish the people around him.

He felt them putting a mask on him to anesthetize him, and everything went dark again.

When he woke up, he saw a woman checking his signs, and he was astonished to recognize her despite some of her physical changes.

She was his fiancée, the woman he was supposed to marry after that trip.

Why did she look like that? She seemed older, but in his sigth, she remained beautiful.

He made some sounds to get her attention, causing her to turn and look at him. She approached and pressed something on his neck.

Curly: "Linda..."

Linda: "...No... Tell me it's not you..."

The woman immediately stepped back, covering her mouth, unable to believe what she was seeing.

She didn't recognize the man laying in that bed in front of her, and she prayed so hard that he wasn't the man she was going to marry, but the fact that he recognized her confirmed her fear.

He could understand the terror on her face, but he didn't know there was something else he didn't know.

She took a deep breath and set her fear aside, sitting next to the man.

Linda: "Curly... If it really is you..." she said, still holding out a small hope that it wasn't him, "You were cryogenically frozen for 20 years... They rescued you because the Tulpar re-entered orbit near Earth before running out of energy, they were able to detect it and bring it back without causing damage, and that's how they found you inside... You have been in the hospital for two weeks today..."

He wanted to laugh as if what he was being told was a bad joke, it couldn't have been that long, right?

But looking closely at her, the small wrinkles now on her face and the few gray hairs she had showed her that she was real.

Linda: "They didn't find any more survivors and... The same press has taken care of paying your medical expenses because they want to hear your story... You have an implant in your neck so you can speak, a voice box, you have to press it if you have difficulties but in a while you won't need to do it anymore... and they did a skin graft... Including some prosthetics..."

She carefully took the prosthetics of his arms and raised them so he could see them, Curly felt like a completely different being.

Linda: "I recommend that you ask for what you want now because... As soon as they find out you're awake... They're going to bombard you with questions and the press will come here, they won't show any mercy."

The man tried to raise the prosthesis and pressed his implant on his neck to be able to speak.

Curly: "What about us?"

Linda: "Oh Curly..." she sighed, "When you didn't come back, I thought the worst... That you were dead... I just keep going with my life... I married someone else, I have two children... There is no longer an 'us'."

Before he could say anything else, a reporter peeked in and made a fuss upon seeing him awake; the place filled up in seconds.

The woman lowered her head and left the room in search of security to throw out the press, but the harassment didn't end there.

Curly chose to give them the answers to the questions they had by scheduling a meeting at the hospital.

Thanks to this, many people started donating things to him, including money to help him reintegrate into society.

But beyond the kindness of people, no one wanted to take care of him and help him, not even the nurses, they said they couldn't spend too much time near him.

Linda took care of him during his stay in the hospital while they fixed up his house that had been left abandoned.

Linda: "I found someone who can take care of you."

She commented while pushing his wheelchair, entering his house, that it looked completely renovated.

Linda: "I don't know if you still remember that I mentioned my younger sister, (Y/n), a couple of times?"

Curly: "The one who lived with your father?"

Linda: "That's right... My mom got full custody of her after a few years, and since then she has been living with her until she became independent shortly after turning 18..." 

Curly: "She was 12 back then..."

Linda: "She recently lost her job, I thought it would be a good opportunity for her. She is very responsible, I promise."

When they arrived in the room, he could see a woman standing and looking at the paintings hanging on the walls.

He had never met his fiancée's sister, but he had heard many stories about her, about how her father unjustly gained custody by labeling their mother as crazy, and since then they had fought to get the girl back.

He had been struck by how incredibly different she was from her sister; you two didn't seem related at all.

Linda: "Good thing you were already here," she mentioned with a smile to catch your attention. 

When you turned to look at them, Curly didn't expect such seriousness from you towards your older sister. 

"...Thank you for the job opportunity, I will do my best to help you," you mentioned, looking at the man, ignoring the woman. 

Linda: "Let me show you where everything is-"

"I've already been getting familiar with the place, it's not necessary, you can go."

Linda: "At least let me tell you which medications you should-"

"You have already sent me a message with clear instructions. I can do this, Lin."

Curly: "You should be more respectful to your older sister."

Upon hearing him speak, you turned to look at him again, without any expression. 

"...Lin"

Linda: "I'll leave, there is no problem. I'm sure you've already memorized everything to the letter. If you have any problem, don't hesitate to call me."

She indicated, she didn't want to make a scene and left without even saying goodbye to either of them. 

"...So you are Curly... It's a pleasure to meet you, I hope we get along well."

You had already made a bad first impression on Curly by treating the love of his life so poorly. 

"Lin left your pill organizer with me, and gave me the schedule for them, it's time for the first pill."

You took a bottle and opened it to take a pill, causing the man to tense up a bit as he remembered moments when he was given his painkillers.

Noticing his nervousness, you tilted your head somewhat confused and went to get something to drink so he could take the pill. 

What a surprise he got when you brought him a cup of chocolate along with the pill. 

"When I was little... I didn't know how to swallow pills, I would choke, so I would bite them... My dad used to give me pills with chocolate milk so I wouldn't have a bad taste in my mouth, don't you like the taste of the pills? These can be very bitter..." 

He thought it was very kind of you to consider that, immediately regretting having judged you without knowing anything about you. 

You helped him take the pills, giving him chocolate to drink slowly, it really helped with the bitter taste. 

Maybe... you weren't so bad.

[em-ontv]

Sing a song for me. (1/2)

Pairing: Soldier Boy x supe!fem!reader

Warnings: angst, violence/death/murder/gore, manipulation (vought), emotional distress, psychological torture/trauma, imprisonment (vought), mentions of drugs, mentions of illnesses, cursing/language

Anon: I have an idea for a FMC who's a supe but her powers are "sirens song" her powers basically can control someone but in a different way depending on what melody she sings... she works at a hospital and helps people... Vought finds out about her and they take her... The boys hear about her after they get soldier boy out and they use him to help get her by him using his powers...

A/n: Hello, anon! Thank you for this request, this idea is just amazing, I love it! I shortened your request a little so it fits here :). I decided to split this into two parts because I've just been really busy, sorry! Everything written here is credited to you, anon! I'm just here to execute your ideas. Hope you like this <3

Read part 2 here

Word count: 3k

"Please," the young woman in the hospital bed whispered, her voice weak while her hands trembled over the thin sheet.

She winced at the pain that was slowly eating away at her. You could see it, not just on her face but in the way her body shivered against the inevitable coldness of death.

"Just make it stop... just for a bit." she swallowed thickly, reaching a hand out to you, and you held it for support.

You'd seen this before, so many times, too many times, working at Mercy Hospital. "I'll sing for you," you said, your voice gentle.

As you pulled the chair closer to her bedside, you began to hum, a soft melody that seemed to drift through the air, mixing with the beeping heart monitor.

Her body began to relax, the lines of pain on her face softening as the sound soothed her, a sense of warmness filling her. Her breathing slowed. The tears stopped. For a moment, in this broken world, she was at peace.

That was the way you had always used your powers. For peace. For comfort. The songs you sang were as natural to you as breathing, and their effects.

It was just a gift you had, something you could use to help the people in pain, to soothe those who were suffering—whether it be the children crying in the hospital beds alone at night or the elderly who were hooked onto the machines to live—the ones who had no one left. You sang to take away their pain, to bring peace in places the world forgot about.

The patients who were pale from nausea, you soothed them. The patients who were out-of-control in the ER, you calmed them. The patients whose time was running out, you eased their pain one last time before they passed away. It was all because of your voice.

But you never went beyond what was asked of you. Never used your powers on people who didn't ask you to. Never crossed that line.

You never sought out power. You had never intended to control.

And for a long time, you didn't know you could.

But Vought? They saw the potential in you long before you did.

The day that everything went wrong, you were working a night shift at the hospital. You remember it so vividly—the soft click of shoes in the empty hallways that you had mistaken for visitors.

You had just finished a soft hum to a child who was barely nine years old, singing away the nauseousness that came from his treatments when they came for you. Vought.

It all happened so fast. In a flash, a hand was clasped around your mouth and you were being dragged away. The kid cried for the doctors, cried for them to let go of you. But no, Vought wanted you.

You fought, of course. The Compound V that flowed through your veins not only gave you the power of your voice, but strength. It made you a challenge, but the tranquilizer they shot into your neck was made for supes.

A sharp pain pierced through your body, and you didn't stand a chance.

Your eyes flickered softly, the world dimmed into darkness, the last thing you saw was the nurses and doctors collapsed on the hospital floor.

And when you woke up, you were in a cage.

You were in a cage.

It was glass, or something that looked like it—thick and unbreakable. The cold room they kept you in was lined with monitoring equipments. They put a collar on you, some high-tech piece that clamped around your throat like a vice. It was set to explode if you so much as hummed a note. They made sure of that.

The first time you tried to test its limits by so much as opening your mouth, a sharp, electrical shock shot through your neck, leaving you clawing at your throat in pain.

You didn't know how long it was since you'd been here. Maybe weeks, maybe months. You tried to fight it at first, refusing to use your powers, refusing to sing for them. But it didn't take long before they forced your hand. Vought had ways of making people cooperate, and you were no different.

At first, they made you calm people, to help them sleep. It was awful but it wasn't that bad, you could handle it. People weren't getting hurt. You weren't hurting anyone.

But that was before tonight.

The door to your cell hissed open, and the guards came in and grabbed you, dragging you and shoving you down the hallway. The collar stung as it bit into your neck, but you learned to ignore the pain. It was nothing compared to what was waiting on the other side of that door.

They led you into another room, a see-through glass room that they pushed you into and locked the doors after taking off your collar.

On the other side, strapped to a chair, was a man. His skin was sickly and pale, eyes wide and wild as he struggled against his restraints. His face was covered in bruises, and his breathing was shallow—wheezing, desperate. You could see the tracks on his arms, the broken veins. He was a junkie, barely hanging on to life as it was.

You rubbed a hand over your throat. "What is this?" you asked, your voice coming out hoarse, the collar had been on for so long it was a wonder you could even speak.

"A convicted criminal," a voice said. You turned your head to see the man standing outside the glass cell. You'd seen him before—Dr. Connors. Always calm, always observing you like you were some test subject, it made your skin crawl. "A drug dealer, murderer that we pulled out of one of the city's free clinics. He won't be missed," he said.

"Why... why is he here?"

"We need to know just how far your abilities can go."

You felt your stomach twist. No. They couldn't be asking what you thought they were. You'd done everything they asked—calmed their people, helped them with their fucked-up little experiments—but this? This was different. This was wrong.

"I won't do it," you whispered, shaking your head. "I don't hurt people. I'm not a killer."

"You misunderstood." Connors said. "You don't have a choice."

He saw the way your skin turned paler, and he took a step closer to the glass. "Isn't this what you do? To ease pain? You're gonna help him pass on, won't you?" His voice was gentle, almost soothing, but it made you feel sick.

"His time isn't up." your jaw tensed, your voice lingered with a hint of bitterness. A combination of fear and anger twisting in your gut. "I said I'm not a killer," you spat.

He raised an eyebrow. "You've been killing since the moment you started working for us. You just haven't been paying attention."

Connors gestured toward the other side of the glass, where the man—this junkie, this criminal—was staring at you, his chest heaving, eyes wide with fear. You could hear his coughs, see the sweat that rolled off of his forehead.

He didn't deserve this.

Maybe he was a murderer. Maybe he had hurt people, maybe he deserved to rot in prison, but no one deserved this. Not to be a lab rat for Vought. Not to be killed by a song. His fate shouldn't rest upon your hands.

Your mind raced, your heart hammered in your chest, and for a few moments, everything was silent. Connors was watching, his eyes turning cold, searching your face for any signs of rebellion. He'd kill you if you refused. And if you didn't die, they'd make sure you wished you had.

You were powerful, yes. But you weren't irreplaceable.

You didn't know what to do, staring at the junkie. All you knew was that there was no way out. Not without paying a price.

Connors stepped back, watching you through the glass. "Sing."

You met the junkie's eyes. He was gasping for air now, but he couldn't scream—his throat was too weak, but you could feel how scared he was. He was pleading for his life, even without saying a word.

Tears burned in your eyes as you felt your chest tighten, the melody coming out of your mouth before you could stop it.

The song was shaky, and it wasn't gentle. It wasn't the usual soft tune that you had sung a hundred times to sick patients, back when you worked at the hospital. It was a song of discord.

The melody wrapped itself around the junkie in the chair, and you saw him starting to thrash against his restraints, his eyes bloodshot and wide as he struggled like a feral animal.

Tears rolled down your eyes when you closed them, scared to get another look at him. The melody only grew stronger, and then…

Then... you heard blood splattering and you felt something on your face.

You reached a hand to your face, your fingers gently brushing against your skin.

And when you opened your eyes again, the first thing you saw was the bloodied chunks of human flesh on your fingers.

Then... him.

The chair where the junkie used to sit was now only a pile of blood. The transparent glass cage was covered in red. Red.

You stumbled backward, choking on a sob, your hands shaking, the song dying on your lips. The realization crashed into you, a wave of nausea coming up your throat.

The guards didn't move. Connors didn't even blink. They were used to this. You weren't.

"Excellent work." Connors said gently.

You felt the remaining of your strength give out. You slumped against the glass wall and your body slowly slid to the ground, your legs no longer able to hold you up. Your eyes never left the bloodied chair as tears streamed down your face, your body trembling with shock and disgust, disgust at yourself. You wanted to scream. To run. But there was nowhere to go.

It was the same routine after that.

When Vought needed you, they'd take you out of your cage, remove the collar, and force you to use your powers. When they were done, they'd push you back into your cell and clamp the collar around your throat again.

You didn't know you could control multiple people at once with your voice. You didn't even know you could kill with your voice. Not until they forced you to use it and then you started to see how deadly your songs were.

You were exhausted. Not just physically, but deep down in your bones, in a way that sleep couldn’t fix. Vought used you again and again, like some soulless machine they could turn on and off whenever they wanted. Every time you sang, you lost a little piece of yourself.

Each forced melody drained you until you started to forget who you used to be, the life you used to have, the people that you used to help. Your voice, once you considered a gift, was now seen as a curse to you.

Of course, at first, you fought it. You pushed back again and again, told yourself you’d find a way out. But the more they used you, the harder it got to hold onto that resistance.

You started to go numb, the fight in you slowly dying, your heart shutting down just to survive. Eventually, you stopped hoping for an escape, stopped believing that anyone would come. You were theirs, trapped in a cycle you didn’t have the strength to break.

The worst part? You barely even cared anymore.

So when they took you onto your first mission, you didn't resist, you did everything they asked, you sang to their enemies—their eyes would glaze over, bodies slumping forward, as if someone had cut their strings, or just be blown into bits with a single note. Either way, they just dropped. Dead in a matter of seconds.

It was too easy. Too much power. And Vought loved it.

But they didn't let you forget what you were. A prisoner. A tool.

Until... until they came for you.

Or more specifically... he came for you.

"This place looks like a fortress," Hughie muttered, adjusting the comm in his ear as the team prepared to break into the Vought facility.

"Quit whinin', mate. We've got our secret weapon right here," Butcher said with that shit-eating grin of his, patting Soldier Boy's shoulder.

Soldier Boy barely acknowledged the gesture, impatience in his eyes, as if one more pat would drive him to rip Butcher's hand off.

Hughie glanced at Butcher. "You sure this is gonna work? I mean, if she's as dangerous as Vought says..."

Butcher smirked. "That's exactly why we need her."

They moved in, navigating through tight security and avoiding patrols as they made their way deeper into the facility. The plan was simple: get in, grab you, get out. But nothing ever went according to plan, and the alarms blared before they even reached your cell.

Soldier Boy tore through guards like they were nothing, his shield crashing against skulls and bodies with brutal efficiency. The others followed in his wake, covering him as he cleared the path, leaving a trail of blood and broken bones, disoriented bodies scattered everywhere.

You'd heard and seen it all. The way the guards that were supposed to be at the door of your cage moved with urgency in their steps, the crackle of their radios.

Explosions. Gunfire. Shouts of panic echoing down the halls.

And then... silence.

You weren't sure if this was a rescue or just another nightmare, but something inside you stirred—hope. Hope that you hadn't felt for a long time.

You sat up, your body stiff and aching as you made your way to the transparent wall, pressing your hand against the cool glass of your cell, waiting.

The silence was shattered by the sound of crashing metal, followed by a loud boom.

You jumped, heart pounding, as the door to the hallway outside your cell exploded inward, smoke and debris clouding the air.

Through the haze, you saw him—Soldier Boy, covered in dirt and blood.

The last of the guards who crossed his path were obliterated, bodies flung aside like they were nothing with sickening cracks of bones. The bullets bounced off of Soldier Boy's shield like they were toy pellets. His eyes were filled with aggression, the adrenaline flowing through his body.

But then... he saw you.

In the chaos, his gaze locked onto your cell—onto you. For a moment, time seemed to freeze. You, standing there in your glass prison, looking so defeated, so... broken.

Your clothes were stained, your skin marked with bruises, your eyes hollow and empty with a lingering sense of hope.

And when Ben saw you like that—it made something inside him crack.

He had seen plenty of fucked-up things in his long life. He'd caused a lot of them. But this? This was different. The anger that fueled him this whole time suddenly turned into something else.

He walked slowly toward the glass, but there was something softer in his eyes now. Something he hadn't shown anyone in decades.

The furrow of his eyebrows slowly disappeared. He reached out, pressing a hand to the glass between you. His palm rested flat against it, fingers splayed out like he was trying to touch you through the barrier.

He just stood there, looking at you like he wasn't sure what to do.

You lifted your hand, trembling, and pressed it against the glass where his hand rested. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt something. Connection. A shared moment between two people who both had been hurt, used, controlled by the same people.

For a second, neither of you moved. You just... stared at each other, your hands separated by that glass wall, but it felt like the most intimate moment you had shared with anyone in years.

Then, without a word, Ben stepped back and raised his fist.

And it was as if you understood him, you stepped back too.

With a hard swing, he slammed his fist into the glass, shattering it with a deafening crash. The pieces rained down around you like shards of ice, but he didn't care.

He reached in, pulling you closer by the hand he rested on your waist, his touch firm but careful, as if he was afraid you might break under his strength.

"Come on," he said, his voice more gentle than he intended it to be. "We're getting you out of here."

You shook your head gently as your fingers reached at the collar, and that was when he noticed the collar around your throat, humming with electricity, ready to punish you the moment you step foot out of this facility.

Ben frowned softly at the device, his fingers wrapped around the tech.

Butcher stepped up closer, glancing at him. "Think you can get that thing off her without blowing her head off?"

He just grunted softly in response, working to disable the explosive.

"Hold still," he muttered.

After a few tense moments, the collar clicked open, falling to the ground with a dull thud.

You inhaled sharply, your first breath of freedom in what felt like forever.

But Ben didn’t move back. He stayed close, eyes never leaving yours. "You can talk now," he said softly, his voice low.

You swallowed hard, your throat aching, but still, you hesitated. "Why… why are you here?"

"We came here to rescue you, love," Butcher replied, stepping into your line of sight. His grin was sharp. "And as much as I would like to keep talking, we should probably get out of here…"

[wayfind-er]

Positive Depictions of Zeus

Peter Paul Ruben, "Jupiter and Mercury at Philemon and Baucis" (1632)

Titles & Epithets of Zeus

As a Fair and Merciful God

Μειλιχιος [Milichius]: Gracious, Merciful

Ευηνεμος [Evenemus]: Of Fair Winds

As a Bringer of Abundance and Prosperity

Επιδωτης [Epidotes]: Giver of Good

Πλουσιος [Plusius]: Of Wealth

Απημιος [Apemius]: Averter of Ills

As a Leader, Chief, and King

Βασιλευς [Basileus]: King, Chief, Ruler

Ὑπατος [Hypatus]: Supreme, Most High

Monarch of the Sky (by Homer and Virgil)*

Sire of Gods and Men (by Homer and Virgil)*

ἀρχὸς ἁπάντων [Archus Apantôn]: Commander of All Things*

As a Protector of People, Cities, and Homes

Κτησιος [Ctesius]: Of the House, Property

Λαοιτης [Laoites]: Of (all) the People

Φυξιος [Phyxius]: Of Refuge / Puts to Flight

Ξενιος [Xenius]: Of Strangers, Hospitality

ἀγοραῖος [Agoraios]: Protector of Public Places (assemblies)*

If you're interested in other epithets: LINK || LINK*

Artistic Depictions of Zeus

Francisco Bayeu y Subías, "The Fall of the Giants,"

Charles-Antoine Coypel, "Jupiter and Juno on Mount Ida"

Cornelis van Poeleburgh, “Feast of the Gods”

Maurice Denis, "Jupiter bestows Immortality on Psyche"

Myths with Zeus

War of the Titans: In this myth, Zeus' father, Cronus, has received the prophecy that one of his children will dethrone him. Out of fear, Cronus swallows all of his children as soon as his wife, Rhea, births them. Rhea manages to sneak out one, Zeus. Eventually, Zeus saves his siblings and starts a revolution against his father, resulting in a 10-year war called the Titanomachy. Zeus and his siblings end up victorious, and Cronus is dethroned and thrown into the pit of Tartarus.

Vows of Chasity: At the request of Hestia and Artemis, Zeus vowed that he would accept the two to remain as virgin Goddesses.

Reconciliation of Zeus and Hera: Hera was mad at Zeus and left Olympus for unknown reasons. Zeus couldn't change her mind, so he went to the cleverest man in the land, Kithaeron. Kithaeron told Zeus to spread the news that he would marry a nymph and craft a wooden statue to play the bride. Zeus did so, and naturally, Hera came back angry. However, instead of a wedding, Zeus surprised Hera with a grand festival (called Daidala), and the two reconciled. 

Hera & the Lust of Ixon: Ixon, a mortal King, fell in love with Hera during a visit to Olympus. He tried to rape Hera, to which Hera immediately reported to Zeus. To see if what she said was true, Zeus created a cloud in the sky which looked like Hera. Ixon, who saw the cloud and thought it was Hera, attacked it. Zeus punished Ixon by binding him to an eternally spinning wheel of fire in Tartarus.

Forgiveness of Cronus and the Titans: After many, many generations of Humans, Zeus forgave his father, Cronus, and freed him (and Cronus' brothers) from their prison in Tartarus. Zeus then made Cronus the King of the Elysian Islands (Home of Dead Heroes and the otherwise Blessed).

Orphic Hymn 15: To Zeus

"O Zeus, much-honoured, Zeus supremely great, to thee our holy rites we consecrate, our prayers and expiations, king divine, for all things to produce with ease through mind is thine.

Hence mother earth and mountains swelling high proceed from thee, the deep and all within the sky. Kronion (Cronion) king, descending from above, magnanimous, commanding, sceptred Zeus; all-parent, principle and end of all, whose power almighty shakes this earthly ball; even nature trembles at thy mighty nod, loud-sounding, armed with lightning, thundering god.

Source of abundance, purifying king, O various-formed, from whom all natures spring; propitious hear my prayer, give blameless health, with peace divine, and necessary wealth."

Homeric Hymn 23: To the Son of Cronos

“I will sing of Zeus, chiefest among the gods and greatest, all-seeing, the lord of all, the fulfiller who whispers words of wisdom to Themis as she sits leaning towards him.

Be gracious, all-seeing Son of Cronos, most excellent and great!”

Divider by @/vibeswithrenai

[kaciidubs]

For the Kids

I believe you used to be 🤍 nonnie, I remember seeing that emoji around~ I'm glad you're back! There won't be much mention of medical stuff because I'm nowhere close to being a nurse, but I hope this is what you were looking for, nonnie! ❣ Summary: This visit was for the kids, so why did Chris find himself vying for a Pediatric nurse's attention? ❣  ❣ Word Count: 1.9k ❣ Warnings: No medical terms, Idol! AU, Pediatric Nurse! Reader, fluff, slight humor, flirting, open ended ❣  ❣ Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns ❣  ❣ Additional Tags: Chan is referred to as Mr. Bang, Chris, and Christopher, Reader is referred to as Beautiful, lightly edited ❣ Stray Kids Masterlist ❣ General Masterlist

“I’ll let the nurse guiding you know that you've arrived, please wait here.” 

Chris nodded enthusiastically as the nurse working behind the front desk turned away to grab a phone, turning his attention to listen to his manager and a few Skijigi discussing the schedule for the day.

 This event was something the members had looked forward to ever since they were allowed to add one more Stay-centered event to their log of the year; the day they ventured out to meet hospitalized children Stays to give them an experience they wouldn't get to see naturally. 

He'd decided to show up early in hopes of getting to meet the kids who weren’t able to make the time bracket due to an appointment or operation - the rest of the members scheduled to show up within the next hour and a half, according to his manager.

“Mr. Bang?”

He turned toward the unfamiliar voice, and the equally unfamiliar use of his last name, only to feel as if his world had gone into slow motion.

Walking up to him was a nurse, a fair assessment judging by the scrubs you wore, with a smile that made his heart skip a beat - part of him wondered if he’d have to check himself into a hospital based on his reaction alone; and when you introduced yourself he swore he heard bells ringing, your name suddenly becoming his favorite sound.

“Welcome to Seoul Mercy Hospital, I’ll be one of the nurses working with you guys today.”

“Hi,” smiling in earnest, he cleared his throat, his posture straightening ever so slightly,  “and just Chris is fine, ‘Mr. Bang’ feels too formal, you know?”

Your smile grew, a small laugh floating through you, “Is ‘Chan’ too formal, too?”

“No, no, Chan is perfectly fine, too - you can call me whatever you’d like.”

Chris tried his best to ignore how suggestive the sentence sounded, but judging from the way you pressed your lips together, you’d already caught the unintentional double entendre.

“Okay, Chris,” a glimmer of humor sparkled in your eyes, teasing and warm - comfortable, “if you’ll follow me, I can give you a quick tour of the area you’ll be using today before we go see the kids.”

The tour was short, yet fulfilling; the brisk walk of the hall bringing him to the play room booked for them to use decorated in Skzoo memorabilia with the life size standees wearing makeshift doctor outfits - there was even a table that stretched along a wall filled with Skzoo plushies and gift bags undoubtedly prepared by Skijigi.

“They’re so cute!” He squealed happily, petting WolfChan- Doctor WolfChan’s head as if he were a real dog, “Do the kids have any idea of what’s happening?”

“Well, of course they know that Stray Kids are coming to the hospital, but we haven’t told them how the whole afternoon will go just yet - we’d like to keep some things a secret, you know?” You gently caressed the soft fur of the Dwaekki standee, gazing at the decorated room with a fondness in your eyes, “This really means the world to them, and we tried our best to make it as grand as possible.”

A warm feeling settled in Chris’s chest, and he had to take a quick breath to dispel the heat from warming the rest of his body in turn. “If that’s the case, I hope that we can help make their day just a little bit brighter - and, hopefully, the nurses’ day too.”

You smiled, catching his eyes, “Trust me, you’re way ahead on that goal.”

It wasn’t long until the rest of the members began to show up, everyone slowly filling the break room specifically reserved for their visit while managers and nurses coordinated bringing the kids into the Skzoo Hospital before revealing their bigger surprise.

Being one of the lead pediatric nurses on duty, you did your part in ushering the line of children from their rooms and into the playroom - catching a glance of a certain leader as he sneakily peeked through the crack of the break room’s door, watching as the little kids spoke excitedly amongst themselves.

Soon the room was filled with children excitedly taking in the decorations and standees, and after a brief moment of gathering and pep-talking from your coworkers, the grand reveal commenced - the eight idols entering the room to excited cheers and applause. Managers ensured the small recording crew caught every reaction and the surprise performance the boys had prepared, before your shift lead announced that the members would be splitting into groups to play and spend time with the kids in Skzoo Hospital.

From small tables arranged for arts and crafts to a controlled space for duck, duck, goose, the activities were enough to keep both the children and the kids irrevocably entertained.

Chris was having a riveting conversation with one of the children at the art station about the best color to draw with when he felt a tug at his shirt, turning his head to see a little girl - who’d happily introduced herself as Narae - holding a sheet of paper with a smile as bright as the sun.

“Wanna see my drawing?”

He smiled at her small, excited little bounces and nodded, “Of course! What is it?”

Turning her paper around, tiny fingers pointed to the colorful figures on the page, “This is me and Leebit picking flowers, I have a yellow flower because it’s my favorite color, and over here is PuppyM wearing a flower crown- Oh, and here is Nurse Y/n having a picnic with WolfChan! She’s my favorite nurse, and he’s her favorite Skzoo, so I drew them together!”

The innocent mention of his representative plush being your favorite sent his heart rate skyrocketing, and he could feel a sheepish blush beginning to take over his ears as he studied the drawing.

“She says he has a cute tail, but I think Leebit’s tail is cuter because it’s fluffy like a bunny,” Narae mumbled, turning her paper around as if inspecting it. “My friend says Bbokari has a cuter tail, but chickens don’t have tails! They have chicken butts!”

Stifling a laugh, he grinned, “You know what? You should go ask Felix if Bbokari has a tail or a chicken butt, he knows all about him.”

She gave him a quick nod before rushing off toward the dancer, determined to get her point proven, leaving Chris to grapple with this newfound knowledge; picking up a crayon and a piece of paper to draw with the children around him.

Eventually the little meet and greet came to an end, the boys handing out the small gift bags to the children who were able to make the event while some of the kids gifted their drawings to the members in return.

With a chorus of ‘thank you’s and well wishes, you led the idol group back to the break room while your coworkers busied themselves with organizing the children to be ushered back into their rooms for the evening.

“I’m never going to let you live down the fact that you actually lost at duck, duck, goose to a kid, Felix,” Seungmin laughed mockingly, the blond’s demise putting a glittering smile on his face.

“Hey! Dohyeon is really fast for his age, okay? I wasn’t going to try to beat a child at a silly little game!”

“I would,” Minho hummed as he passed by the duo, grabbing a bottle of water from the small refreshments table, “teach them early - life isn’t fair.”

“Hyung!”

Chris let out a heavy sigh as the chaos of his members slowly grew, though his anguish was quickly curbed by the sound of your laughter, poorly hidden behind your hand.

Making his way over to you, he nodded his head toward his friends, “I’m sorry about them.”

You waved his apology off with your hand, shaking your head, “Don’t be, that just means you guys had fun - I’m sure the children did too, I haven’t seen their faces light up like that in a while.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m glad we were able to make their day a bit more special.”

His voice was soft, earnest with a sparkle in his eyes and you felt a small flutter float through you as you hummed in affirmation. 

“And a few of the nurses, too, it’s not often that we get visitors like you guys who have the time to come by and do little things like this, it means a lot to us.”

“You know,” he hummed, leaning his shoulder against the wall, “I learned something interesting while talking to one of the kids today.”

Raising an eyebrow, you couldn’t help the fleeting sense of worry tug at your psyche from his curious tone. “Did you? And what would that be, Chris?”

“Well, let’s just say, if you want anything WolfChan themed, I’d be more than happy to get it for you.” A smug smirk began to tug at his lips, his voice lowering to a volume only you could catch, “And, if he were real, I think you’d be his favorite, too.”

Your eyes widened a fraction as a wave of embarrassment washed over you, though you recovered with narrowed eyes, “Which one of those rascals told you that?”

“Hey - my lips are sealed!” He chuckled, holding his hands up in moc defense, though the playful shine in his eyes remained. “I’m just the messenger here.”

Nodding slowly, you pursed your lips in thought, “Alright, then what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well, since you’re real and WolfChan isn’t,” your voice trailed off as you tilted your head inquisitively, “am I your favorite?”

You weren’t sure where the sudden burst of confidence came from, but he’d started the teasing act first, so it was only fair that you played with him at his own game.

Chris bristled at the sudden question, his posture straightening just a bit as his eyes searched yours for any sign of encouragement, a warmth setting over him as the corner of your lip ticked up in challenge.

“My favorite, hm?” He pondered for a moment, tapping his chin before glancing at you with a sparkle that had your heart fluttering, “I’d say there’s no contest, but I’d rather have more time to really figure it out, you know?”

“Is that a proposition, Christopher?”

“It’s a promise, if you’d let me.”

Stepping forward just an inch, you couldn’t fight the smile working its way onto your lips, “I would, but I don’t like when people can’t fulfill their promises.”

“Then it’s a good thing I don’t plan on breaking this one.” He murmured as he leaned forward the same amount, though his entire being begged to close the distance to feel your lips on his. “How about it then, beautiful?”

“Chan hyung! We’ve gotta go soon!”

Your heart sunk at the warning call, looking at him before giving a firm nod, “It’s a deal, but-”

“Don’t worry,” digging into his pocket, he pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper before slyly sliding it into your hand, “we’ll figure out the details, yeah? Patient-nurse confidentiality, and all that.”

Giggling, you tried to ignore the way his hand felt in yours, melting at the warmth he radiated, “Of course, completely confidential.”

He grinned, letting his hand slip from yours he ducked his head in a silent goodbye, “See you later?”

“See you soon.” You reassured him with a glittering smile, watching as he reunited with the rest of his members and management team and joining them in whatever discussion they were wrapping up with.

Taking the chance to unfold the paper he gave to you, your eyes quickly read the numbers neatly scribbled in blue crayon, followed by a cute doodle of WolfChan’s face and a short message.

‘P.S. I think you have a cute butt, too - Chris’

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[tender-rosiey]

more husband!gojo x reader pls😩😩✨✨

breakfast — gojo satoru x f!reader

a/n: I added a bit of dad!gojo, hope you don’t mind <33 @mhsofe

“y/n.”

“yes, satoru?”

“do you love me?”

“hmm, I don’t know; what do you think?”

your husband whines and dramatically collapses face-first on the bed, “don’t be so mean! you’re supposed to say ‘oh satoru! you’re the love of my life who I can never get tired of!’ and fangirl about my charm!”

you merely stare at him before deadpanning, “satoru, I pushed three kids out of my vagina for you.”

he clicks his tongue, “pretty girl, you shouldn’t use such vulgar words! what if the kids hear you?”

you roll your eyes and nudge his side with your foot, “get over here, you loser.”

he complains, “such a bully,” but still moves to lay on top of you. you feel him smile through your shirt and he sighs deeply (and happily like a SIMP) before speaking up, “I missed you.”

your eyes soften as your fingers card through his hair, something that he will never get tired of you doing, “me too, ‘toru; how’s everything at jujutsu tech, now?”

“same old same old,” he huffs and you can’t help but chuckle.

satoru rolls his eyes, affectionately, before asking, “where are the kids by the way?”

you look around and shrug, “I don’t know, but it’s eerily quiet today so maybe they went out with the first years.”

“so I have you all to myself?” your husband chuckles and looks up at you with his captivating blue eyes, “then how about I make you breakfast today?”

he presses a kiss to your stomach, “it will be a five star kind of meal that you will never forget.”

suddenly, you hear a bunch footsteps rushing to your door.

you also hear the screams of your three children combined.

yuto, the eldest, kicks the door open, “NO DAD! DON’T KILL MOM!”

the middle one, mio, nods with teary eyes, hiding behind her older brother.

meanwhile, the youngest one, shiro, just jumps around screaming continuously ‘DON’T DIE MOMMY!’

looking confused, satoru pouts but gets off the bed, nonetheless, “what are you kids on about?”

satoru picks up shiro, who clings to him quickly, and wipes the tears off his face, “I wasn’t going to hurt mommy, not in a million years.”

he looks at them with a confident grin, “I was only going to make her breakfast!”

“EXACTLY!”

it takes satoru a few seconds to register what they all said.

“OH YOU BRATS! MY COOKING ISN’T THAT BAD!” he finally says and they all shake their head, albeit with fear, except your oldest son.

yuto looks at him, with sass he most definitely acquired from you, “dad, you nearly sent mio to the hospital when you made her a birthday cake.”

“I did not!” he hurriedly looks at your daughter, “you liked the cake that daddy made, right, mio?”

your daughter just walks towards you, completely avoiding her dad’s question, and instead just cuddles up to you.

satoru gasps and yuto rolls his eyes before patting his father’s back, “just don’t cook for mom, please.”

shiro jumps off his father’s arms and nods at him slowly, “yes please! we love her too much to have you do that!”

satoru falls to the ground and clutches his chest, “betrayed by my own children.”

he then looks at you, who’s now being hugged by all three, and whines, “wifeyyy! do something!”

you blow him a kiss and even in his ‘suffering’ state, he catches it.

you would think that this meant that you will have mercy on his oh so broken heart, but said heart drops to his stomach at your next words.

“let’s make daddy a pretty princess with horns!”

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copyright © tender-rosiey

do not copy or plagiarize or you will be reported

[hhnguyen]

aren’t you just precious

Everything medical related was a google search, so those in the medical field please don’t come for me - I was a literature major for a reason 😭

♢ Pairing: Parents!Jake & Neytiri x Oldest daughter!Reader

♢ Word count: 2k 

♢ Genre: suspense, action, angst, slight humor - Warnings: explicit description of injuries, blood, cursing, reader is a lil crazy

⌲ Description: Your iknimaya goes a little south. Aka introducing the ‘demon ikran.’

M A S T E R L I S T

Jake Sully, a marine veteran at the age of twenty-two had gone through absolute hell on earth before ever setting his disabled ass on Pandora. 

He thought he had seen the worse - comrades shot down right in front of his eyes, the blood covering their skin, blank dead eyes staring into his soul. Sometimes there were those who were actually blown to bits by bombs and grenades, screaming not even five feet away from him as they clutched their missing limbs, begging a nonexistent God for mercy.

Then there was his own injury. The pain he hardly remembered, because he had gotten to the point of delusion when they finally managed to drag him out of the war zone, half dead, and to the VA hospital.  

The incoherent words he had heard after waking up from his surgery despite his hazy vision and buzzing hearing at that time, yet the truth coming out of the doctor’s mouth had still hit him in the face like the largest ‘fuck you and your life’ to exist. 

“...ave severe spinal injury...fixable...expensive, marine.”

A severe spinal injury that was fixable but too expensive for a marine like him to afford. 

For an active man as he had been in the past, the thought of being paralyzed from the waist had been his worst nightmare to the point of being ready to waste away his life. 

Though even after all that shit, Jake Sully felt like he wanted to throw up as he stared at his oldest baby girl at the fresh age of fourteen laying there in front of him; delirious as he had once been in the same position, bleeding and bruised. 

He could only thank Eywa that your heart was still beating and your body intact. 

Well, mostly. 

The almost nauseous angle of your left wrist certainly did not look natural. And their bones were fortified, stronger than anything else to human knowledge. Yet it had managed to snap as easily as that. 

Neytiri - his beautiful, poor mate. She was distraught, one would say more so than him. Sitting only inches away from your fevering form in one of Hell’s Gate treating rooms for avatars, muttering prayers with dried tears upon her face. 

Your injuries had been so severe that not even the abilities of your grandmother, the Tsahik, could heal you solely through the spiritual power of Eywa. These kinds of injuries needed the advanced surgery of human technology. 

His other children were barred from coming inside, having been firmly ordered to remain in their village as he and Neytiri made sure that you would be okay. None of them wanted to keep them away, but neither did they want them to be traumatized by seeing your bloodied and broken form. 

A stark contrast from the smiling and proud sister that they knew. 

And yet, you had still managed to complete your iknimaya. 

Jake watched with a bated breath from the air upon Bob, his own faithful ikran through the years, as he saw the slight encouraging push Neytiri had given you on the edge of the nesting place. Your, oh so small form, looked firm and stubborn as you steadily stalked forward in a crouched form, the band for the beak held in your grasp with determination. 

He watched as one ikran flew away. Then another. And another. A third one. Fourth. Fifth. Sixth. 

He had lost count after the eleventh. 

You were getting frustrated, he could see that. Neytiri was still there, calling out for you to calm down. To be patient as he moved Bob a little bit closer, but not too much to distract you if you were to see him hovering. 

And there he was. 

Jake had seen it before you did. The vicious screech even reached him high up in the clouds and echoed above all the other ikrans. 

He felt his blood run cold as the midnight blue beast, nearly black in color with its yellow and green detailing jumped down from the highest point of the rocks and landed behind you as you whirled around with snarl of your own. 

But then as fleeting as it had been, you had grinned, taking in the magnificent animal despite its bloodthirsty aggressiveness. 

“Aren’t you just precious?” Neytiri had told him of your words in the aftermath. 

His mate hollered in encouragement, and he could hardly stop the prideful tug of his own lips. 

Rather than you leaping on the beast, Jake straightened up as he saw the ikran run at you as well. Both were only inches away from crashing, as you last minute decided to slide beneath its belly - slight enough to fit as you rolled away on the other side and then slung the catcher around its mouth swiftly before throwing yourself on its back. 

His expectations had been hopeful from that moment. Positive. But wrong, oh so wrong. 

Rather than trying to snap at you by turning, he watched in horror as the ikran seemed to have a human mind as it slammed against a stone wall, you hitting it first. 

Neytiri had screamed, already half leaping forward but stopping herself as she saw you still clinging to the beast. 

Both had thought that had been the worst of it until the ikran tried it again. This time deliberately falling backward to land on its back with a rumble, where you were hung on. 

“LET GO MA ‘ITE! LET GO!” Neytiri was yelling. Or begging. He couldn’t be sure in his own fear. 

But both of them underestimate you, as a growl mixed with what Jake had assumed to be a painful yell from yourself erupted. Legs manage to wrap around the animal’s neck despite being crushed underneath its weight. 

He saw belatedly you were only holding on to the banshee catcher with one hand as you pulled at its head hard enough to make the animal let out another vicious muted screech. 

And then you truly proved you were his daughter. 

“C’MON YOU MOTHERFUCKER. GRANDPA BOB WAS BETTER THAN THIS!”

The ikran had gotten angrier, trashing before suddenly rolling like a fucking bowling pin on the stone-covered ground. 

Towards the edge of the cliff. 

Neytiri ran, and Jake dove, both reaching out and screaming your name as you and the ikran fell off the edge. 

As his mate leaned almost desperately over the edge, Jake forced himself to draw Bob back up, only for a few seconds - not to interfere with the rite. But it was in those few seconds he felt like his heart had stopped beating. 

There was that familiar screech again. 

Then you were soaring. 

Up in a straight line, past Neytiri and him. Tsaheylu clearly made as the ikran listened to your orders. 

There was a blinding grin on your face as you soared, clearly looking for him and letting out a whoop. 

The moment your eyes caught his, Jake felt his grin slip. 

Your eyes, open just moments before suddenly rolled back. Your whole body went slack as you fell over the side, your newly bonded ikran screeching at the sudden weightless feeling as the bond broke and your body went straight down. 

Jake hadn’t heard his desperate yell, this time diving down without stopping. 

He thought you were dead when he managed to catch you and flew back up, only to have Neytiri meet him in the air on her own mount, an expression so clearly in distress. Without a word, they both made haste back to the village, your newly bonded ikran following closely behind. 

“How is she?” His voice sounded like it had gone over fifty years of smoking with no water. It felt like his whole body was weighed down with stones. 

“She’s alive,” that’s all that Max could offer with a grim expression. “She will need surgery. The momentum of her slamming repeatedly against stones with the ikran’s weight on top has managed to collapse a lung.”

Jake had never wanted to sob like a newborn baby until now. But he needed to remain calm, or at least sane. For Neytiri’s sake, and your siblings.

“Usually surgeries like these lead to long-term conditions in life, but we’re certain that with the Na’vi biology she will heal just fine without complications. But it’s the healing that will take time.”

He was nodding along, but it felt like he was far away. Only hearing a slight inconsistent sound in his ears as he watched through the see-through glass into the room where you were all connected up to tubes and an oxygen mask. 

It was so human, the whole situation of you being in a hospital bed for avatars - Jake wanted to laugh. Not in humor, but maybe in slight delusion at the situation. 

“Okay, okay…” he swallowed. “Anything else?”

His human friend was taking pity on him, Jake knew. 

Max has been there since the beginning. Seeing Jake growing his own family and now being placed in this position. “Besides the broken wrist and strained ankle, it’s mostly cuts and bruises. So she will have to wear a brace as well as remain seated for the next week or so. And check-ups every three days.“

“Yeah, we can do that,” Jake croaked. “When’s the surgery?”

“As soon as possible.”

Another nod. “Thanks, man.”

“Of course.”

He had to nearly pry Netytiri away from you as she snarled protectively. But he had to explain that she couldn’t join in on the surgery due to contamination concerns. The whole room had to be fixed to match that of a Na’vi body, the surgeons wearing oxygen masks as the space was filled with Pandora’s toxic air for your sake. 

It was an open lung surgery, Jake had been told. A risky procedure even on earth. It had taken four hours. Four hours full of anxiety and fear. 

But you had pulled through, Max said, Norm closely behind with a relieved teary smile himself. The man was like another uncle to the kids despite his avatar form. He had watched their ceremonies, rites and connections to Eywa. So to Norm, this was just like a family member to him. 

You had slept for a full day and a half after the surgery, still confined to the avatar hospital room before your eyes had fluttered open with difficulty. A cough erupted followed by your painful whine at the action.

Netytiri had hushed you gently, crouching down and stroking your hair back. Fresh tears fell at seeing you conscious again after so long, sobs breaking out as you flashed a sleepy smile at her. 

Neytiri had felt like Eywa had pulled the entirety of Pandora away from underneath her feet during the hours of your examination and surgery. Clutching Jake to her and never wanting to let go as her oldest baby was at the mercy of nature and your own will to live through. 

But she knew. 

You were strong. You always had been. And you had fought. 

Neytiri had never imagined a day when one of her biggest nightmares nearly came to pass. 

To lose one of her children. 

She would rather throw herself off the highest point on Ayram alusìng than lose one of her precious babies before their time. She believed in Eywa with her whole heart and soul and knew their beings were only borrowed and one day had to be returned. 

But Eywa would not take her children away from her until Neytiri herself agreed. 

Until that time, she would do anything to protect them. But to have it happen during one of their most treasured rites in life had prevented her from doing many things. 

Interfering for once. Because you had said so before as if knowing how horribly wrong it could go. 

“Do not stop me, mama. I can do this on my own.”

Of course, you could. And you did. 

Despite having to brush the doors to Eywa’s home yourself to succeed. 

And as your parents carefully helped you back home to the village after five days of observation at Hell’s Gate after your surgery, you couldn’t help but snicker despite the stabs of pain.  

Your mom had admonished you gently to not aggravate your wounds. Whereas your dad held back the roll of his eyes with amusement tickling the sides of his mouth. 

“Why are you laughing, flower?”

Your grin was shit-eating as you looked up at him.

“My iknimaya was so much cooler than Toruk Makto’s.”

“You little skxawng.”

I feel like I lowkey pulled this one out of my ass, but oh well. 

taglist: @nao-cchi @eywas-heir @ssc7514 @spicycloudsalad @calums-betch @httpjiikook @ricecakeslove @fanboyluvr @iwaslikeblah   @the-wandering-pan-ace @avatarloversblog @eternallyvenus @enchantinggoateefox @arianapntn @heydemonsitsme @slyvixen1029​ @promiseofeywa @love13tter @directioner5life @bambisposts-blogs​ @melllinaa​  @sugarmummystuff6​ @lovekeeho​ @hai-kbai​

[tswiftupdatess]

Taylor filming a TikTok with fans at the Children’s Mercy Hospital in Kansas City today! (via msnaya11 on TikTok)

(December 12, 2024)

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The Kate and Clint Adventures- Adventure 1: The Nelson-Atkins Museum of Art (Video)