#deathbed confessions

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #1784

Submitted by Anon - thanks!

Character A giving their deathbed confessions to Character B (maybe guilt, maybe romantic, your pick), only for Character A to later make a miraculous recovery :3

[venicetothegut]

╰┈➤ ❝ A Short Soliloquy in the Finale❞

Hetalia FrUK Oneshot Crossposted on AO3

Border by @cafekitsune

Notes (Contains Spoilers): Angst, Heavy Angst, Angst and Tragedy, Human!AU, Countries use Human Names, Hanahaki Disease, France has Hanahaki Disease, Unrequited Love, Loosely Inspired by True Events, Love Confessions, Deathbed Confessions, Major Character Death, no beta we die like francis, arthur being a dense mf

Francis Bonnefoy looks at Arthur Kirkland as if he were looking at dancing stars. He listens to him as if he were listening to fairies’ chatter. He embraces him as if he were embracing the essence of life itself.

The world has known quite a number of lovers like one such as Francis. Many poems, tales, and ballads have been sung about the intense proliferation of one’s love for another; how these feelings bloom and blossom, as if nourished by the sun itself. Francis was never alone in that regard, which brings him some comfort in his rather unbecoming circumstances.

Francis loves making Arthur let out giggles that chime sweeter than bells—this one of the many signs that indicate that the Englishman enjoys the company of the Frenchman. Francis recalls the time when they were younger—he had braided Arthur’s hair, which was quite long back in the day. He intertwined each little lock of hair with many flowers and charms.

“You look like the Queen of Witches, mon cher ami,” cooed Francis. “You’re ready to take on the entire realm.”

Arthur blushed. “Oh hush. I’m just a mere sorcerer. I do not have such capabilities.”

Francis brushed his fingers through Arthur’s unbraided strands. “But your looks alone could cast a spell,” gushed the Frenchman. “Any fair lad and lass would be utterly captivated by you.”

And so, Arthur’s giggles rang out. They were as clear as day, as fresh as summer, as delightful as morning, as energising as sunrise. Francis felt his heart melt like chocolate—the kind that coats sweet strawberries. Eat my chocolate–strawberry heart, mon amour…

“Mon amour”... to this day Francis still addresses Arthur as “mon cher ami”. That was the closest he could ever be from calling the Englishman something that truly reflected his actual feelings. He silently watches Arthur and falls in with him more and more. Whether he had long hair or short hair, Francis wished to bury himself forever in his beloved’s wispy, champagne blonde hair. He desires nothing more but to take Arthur’s hair and twirl him around in a never–ending waltz of romance. The world around them would no longer matter, because Francis would have his world right in front of him.

An excruciating pain now greets Francis daily—one that, quite literally, blossoms in his lungs. He is fully aware of the cause, the flowers that mark the symbol of unreturned passion. Yet, Francis chooses to keep this fact to himself. If he dies, no one will feel guilty, for a single person harbouring an intensely realised unshared love is better than causing a burden to come crashing down onto the other party’s head. Francis cannot fathom the idea of begging Arthur to love him back, as mountains cannot plead the sunrise to last forever. The Englishman must be willing to let the dew off of his leaves and roll down onto the Frenchman’s. For Francis to drink up any form of love, Arthur must willingly offer it first.

Life–threatening pneumonia is what Francis told the world. He was beyond saving, but all he wished for right now was to be with his most beloved at his deathbed. No one knew when he was going to be gone, so he gets visits everyday to keep him company right before he leaves this realm. With each visit, he managed to hide all the flowers he was coughing out, but the sensation was akin to keeping vomit inside one’s mouth to avoid throwing it all up. The flowers in his mouth made him sound ghastlier whenever he spoke with the visitors. Most of his words could still be understood, but the smooth and velvety quality of his voice had long been dissolved into an empty, soundless void.

---------------------

“Hello, Francis.” The words had come from Arthur. “How have you been?”

Francis looked up at the Englishman. He then began to cough out more flowers, but locked them all behind his teeth. “Oh… just about average, mon cher ami.” Arthur chuckled at that, which made Francis proud—he managed to joke about his situation and make his beloved laugh at the same time.

“I came here to visit,” Arthur added. “Just me, though. The others have certain matters to attend to.”

Francis nodded matter–of–factually, but on the inside, he felt grateful. No uncomfortable crowds towering over him, no overstimulating conversations. Just Arthur—Arthur and his beautiful face that represents home. A familiar source of comfort and tenderness manifested on the delicate physicalities of the Englishman. No other individual’s features can make Francis feel a warm and loving embrace despite not experiencing any physical contact. Arthur was Francis’s home, the one he desires to return to once his life’s journey has come to an end.

“Arthur,” began Francis. “Can’t the world just freeze for a bit?”

Arthur nodded silently, then replied, “I feel the same way.”

Francis sighed. “My death is inevitable, but I wish to experience at least a little bit more of life before I go.” His body was so paralysed that he could only move his head. “I’ve fallen in love and had my heart broken, then fallen in love once again. Death doesn’t let us choose when we are to go, so as much as I desire to attempt to cultivate this love I have, I simply have no time at all.”

Francis hasn’t spoken anything longer than three words for the past couple of weeks, so this was a momentous feat. Arthur’s eyes lit up when he realized this, which Francis noticed. The Frenchman chuckled.

“I can overexert myself at this point. Time will never stop for anyone, let alone me. I need to make the most out of my final moments,” declared Francis.

Arthur’s expression was unreadable, but Francis observed that perhaps many thoughts and emotions rushed to his head. The specifics didn’t matter, because Arthur’s face soon morphed into sadness. “You say too many pessimistic things,” he said.

“Love has turned me into a pessimist,” said Francis. “My heart was damaged not from the fall, but rather from the break.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur rubbed his chin in curiosity and concern.

Francis chuckled. “All the roads in good romances end in death.”

“Well now you’re scaring me.”

“There’s nothing to fear when I’ll finally be at peace, right?”

Arthur huffed in a frustrated manner. “God, Francis, stop talking in riddles for one second please?”

“I cannot think straight nor can I speak normally when I am in love,” Francis explained. “I see nothing but the beauty of my dearly beloved; which, despite being a sickly and dying man, motivates my drives to stay alive for a few more days. I wish to see my dearest before I go. But…” the Frenchman paused. “I wish to say certain things about myself first. Final words, if you will.

“How pitiful. The end has come for Francis Bonnefoy, and he dies of a broken heart and bursting lungs. His situation is truly laughable, pathetic even, for he is not killed by the pneumonia he was diagnosed with, but by the love that rips and tears through his very being. The one he loves does not and cannot return the feelings he is caged by, but Francis pays no mind. Things would be better off in the unrequited manner.

“And you might be thinking, ‘Francis, you are literally dying. Will you not try to not be on the verge of death? Fight for life a little harder?’ Well, mon cher ami, to that I say, what’s the point? My sickness has no ready cure, but I have long accepted the fact that it will eat away at my lungs, my heart, and my body.”

Arthur looked as if his eyes were drenched with tears, ready to drown his cheeks with the salty drops. “Francis… I…” Arthur swallowed the stutter before continuing. “You’re in such a cruel state that it has got you talking nonsense. Maybe the doctors are wrong. Maybe your pneumonia can still be cured…”

Francis chuckled brightly, a sound that has never been heard ever since he was admitted to the hospital weeks ago. “Oh, you dense idiot. And yet…” Mustering all the strength he had left, Francis pulled Arthur down into a warm, tight, embrace. “I still love you.”

Francis experienced two things before losing consciousness: First, he saw the Englishman pulling away to look at him with a shocked, tear–filled face; he was breathing heavily and unevenly. Second, he felt the flowers fall freely out of his mouth; they were more than enough to form a bouquet.

His vision finally faded to black.

[dying-bunny-0x0]

How I feel after liking a post from someone who made it five seconds ago

[hollenka99]

The Man Dressed in Red

Summary: While bleeding out from a stab wound, one of the egos tells the others something that changes everything.

Prompt used: 'You are on your deathbed, surrounded by your loved ones. They are attentively waiting what may be your final words. Describe the scene, what you say, and the last precious moments of life.'

When 'He/Him' etc is capitalised, it's referring to the ego whose POV this is.

The man dressed in red barely makes it home. Each step is a stumble. At times, He forgets how exactly to return home in the first place. He can't call anyone. That would likely result in Him being exposed.

The increasing desire to take a break also makes the journey back a struggle. Despite knowing full well succumbing to the fatigue would be the worst thing to do, He stopped caring fairly quickly. On top of everything, He can't even think straight either. There are probably medical procedures that should be performed on Him. If there are, He can't remember what they should be. The one thing He does recall is to keep as much blood inside Him as He can. The rest will have to be the others' responsibility.

Why did He have to get stabbed in the first place? Under the impression some mugger wouldn't be too much of a challenge, especially compared to other types of wrongdoer, He'd foolishly engaged with the criminal. He had miscalculated. Not noticing the guy was armed, the 'hero' had gotten too close. And now? Now He was pounding with a bloodied fist on His front door.

Jameson is the one to greet Him. It only takes a moment for his warm smile to vanish at the sight of his friend's condition. A palm bangs against the wall in an attempt to alert the vlogger and magician. Jameson takes His left arm over his shoulder while Chase does the same for His right. Marvin sprints ahead towards the medical bay in preparation for whatever they frantically decide to do to Him.

"Put him on the table." Marvin commands. Out of the corner of His eye, He catches glimpses of Marvin grabbing his phone and forcing numbers in. Now lying on a flat surface, He allows His eyes droop. If He could rest for a few minutes... "No! No, don't do that. Oh God, Marv. Jackie, you have to stay awake, okay buddy? Can you do that? It's what Schneep would be telling you to do. And he's going to be here as soon as we can get ahold of him." "Henrik, I will kill you!" A ghost of a smile appears on His face as Marvin screams at his phone. Something tells Him the magician would have to wait in line. "And Jameson, will you stop just standing there?! Help Chase put pressure on the wound and keep Jackie conscious."

Chattering surrounds him. Good strategy. If Chase can keep Him responsive, maybe He would be able to learn from His mistakes. In that situation, He would happily get shouted at.

It doesn't take long for Him to choose to stop faking his accent. He's so tired. There isn't even a point to pretending anymore. Why did He decide to take his place? Probably to protect him. He would do something like that. Would He? Yes, it was His job to save people, wasn't it? This was the first time His life had been at stake though. Usually, it was other way around. How did His friend do it, constantly putting himself in danger with frequently negative repercussions, only to do it all over again as soon as he was healed enough to be functional?

Beside Him, Jameson is tearfully grasping His hand. There's pressure on His stomach. Chase appears panicked, head turning towards Him every few moments in a frantic fashion. Almost as if in the distance, Marvin vents at his phone. The doctor wasn't going to pick up, He could guarantee that. They should start stitching instead of panicking.

What would be helpful was a nap. He knows for a fact that rest was imperative for recovery. Allowing Himself to shut his eyes, He remembers they need to know.

"He is downstairs." --- He finds Jackie watching some show in the living room. He doesn't know what it is and He doesn't particularly care right at this moment. As inconvenient as the timing is, the window of opportunity to pull this off is brief. He cannot allow it to slip away. Chase and Jameson are busy hanging out in town and Marvin was stuck in his room, as usual. If he's going to do this at all, it has to be now. He can switch the television off when he's done.

"I need to ask you something." "Sure." The hero doesn't glance away from the screen. "By showing you." "Oh, okay. Give me a sec." The programme is paused.

He leads the hero to His lab in the basement. Down here was where He performed experiments and learned how He could improve the care He gave the others. Some of Marvin's potions were stored here too. He makes sure Jackie is the first to enter the room. All the better to execute his plan.

"Okay, we're in your lab. Now what?" "I'm sorry I have to do this." "That doesn't make you sound like some cliché villain at all." The superhero rolls his eyes. "I'm forcing you to take a break." "Okay... then what? I kinda have a job to do, you know. If I put my feet up for a few days, the bad guys are going to notice and take advantage of it." "I already thought of that. I will take your place." "No way." Jackie chuckles in disbelief. "There's not a chance in hell I'm going to allow that. Trust me, I'm fine." "What about your wrist? You can't fight with a bad hand." "It was just a sprain, dude. And it wasn't even on my dominant hand." "You still hurt yourself. You need to stop and look after your body for once. You sacrify your safety too much." "At least I have powers. You would have nothing to defend yourself with, not even heightened senses. They'll get the jump on you. And how are you going to fool the others into thinking you're me? You're the least able to imitate any one of us. Your accent is a dead give-away. Think this through." Putting on his best impression of Jackie, he steps back. "I am going to be fine. I will be back soon. Then you'll see how okay I am."

Instead of continuing the disagreement, the doctor swiftly turns around and slams the door shut. As it is locked with the key, the door is assaulted by a superhero with unnatural strength in protest.

As soon as he begins walking away, Jackie increases the volume of his arguing. "Henrik, listen to me. Come on, stop being so stupid. Henrik. Hen-"

"-rik! Henrik, wake up, damn it."

Chase barely acknowledges the real Jackie when he races into the room, Marvin seconds behind him. The only thing the superhero can do is watch as desperately ineffective effort is made to revive their beloved doctor.

[strangefacthub]

Uncovering the Wildest Historical Secrets Revealed Now

Introduction to the Wildest Historical SecretsDiscover what's happening now with the Wildest Historical Secrets Revealed Now. Did you know that history is full of mysteries waiting to be unraveled? From vanishing people to bizarre murders, America's states hide countless unsolved enigmas. Join us as we explore each state's most perplexing mystery and delve into the unknown, the strange encounters, and the ancient mysteries that challenge what we think.Unsolved Mysteries in the United StatesResearch has shown that each state in the US has its own unique set of unsolved mysteries. For instance, 50 Unsolved Mysteries In 50 States of America | Part 1 - YouTube explores the most perplexing mystery in each state. Here are a few examples:California: The disappearance of the Sodder childrenFlorida: The murder of the Grimes sistersNew York: The assassination of Senator Robert KennedyDeathbed Confessions and Unresolved MysteriesDeathbed confessions have also revealed some shocking secrets. 51 Sh...

Read the full article here

[strangefacthub]

Secrets That Could Ruin Lives Revealed: Uncovering the Shocking Truth

Introduction to Secrets That Could Ruin LivesDiscover what's happening now with Secrets That Could Ruin Lives Revealed. Did you know that people are sharing shocking secrets that could destroy their lives if they ever got out? From deathbed confessions to hidden truths, we're about to dive into the world of secrets that could ruin lives. Wait till you hear this - 19 people revealed shocking secrets that would ruin their lives, and the reasons behind them will leave you mind-blown.Deathbed Confessions: Secrets RevealedA palliative care nurse shared 51 shocking secrets people revealed on their deathbeds, including 'I Know Who Killed Kennedy.' These confessions are a testament to the power of secrets and the weight they carry. Here's the crazy thing - people are more likely to reveal their deepest secrets when they're near death, and these secrets can be life-changing.A WW2 veteran confessed to a shocking secret that would have destroyed his family if it got out.A person revealed they kne...

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[madewithonerib]

do you wanna know why...?ed

[if-you-fan-a-fire]

"DIES IN PRISON," Hamilton Spectator. October 6, 1933. Page 17. --- JOHN A. MACHRAY Former Winnipeg barrister, who died in Stony Mountain penitentiary yesterday while serving a term for defalcation of millions of dollars of Anglican church and University of Manitoba funds.