#I actually found those by accident when trying to find white ones

[abigail]

:0 where are your shoes from?? theyre so gorgeous

!!! they’re from koi !!! they also have them in pink/purple :-) but yeah they’re super super comfy tbh, I’ve only worn them out a few times so far so can’t comment on the quality yet but I’ve had shoes from koi before (like… many years ago though like they’ve gone way up in price since rip) and never had any issues and these seem good too so !!! should be ok I’d defo recommend them hehe <3

[hxney-lemcn]

Best Friend — Daisuke x gn! reader

summery: being friends with Daisuke, you and him have some fun and not so fun moments, but you find yourself confessing your feelings to him accidently.

tw: mentions of Pony Express (gross), slight angst (but barely)

a/n: guys Daisuke has me in his grips rn, things kept getting written and here we are. I love him your honor.

wc: 2.3k

Master List

Part One | Part Two

It was a warm day in spring. Sun shining down, fluffy white clouds floating by, a gentle breeze tussling your hair, and your company had made it all the better. Daisuke sat across from you at a picnic table at the park. Birds chirped overhead, sounds of kids running around and playing in the distance, while both you and Daisuke were having idle chit chat. 

“How’s college going?” Daisuke asked, glancing up at you from his phone. 

“Don’t get me started,” You grumbled, brain frying at the mere thought of school and work. 

Daisuke chuckled lightly, putting his phone down and resting his head in his hand. Mirroring his movements, you asked, “How’s it going on your end?”

“Don’t get me started,” He repeated your earlier words, causing you both to break out into a small fit of laughter.

“That bad, huh?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” He grumbled, a pout resting on his lips. “My parents won’t stop buggin’ me about finding a job or internship. I dunno what I wanna do yet though.”

“That sucks,” You sympathized. “I still don’t know what I wanna do exactly, but my parents wouldn’t take no for an answer when it came to going to college. Lets hope I choose the right major.”

The lull in your conversation gave you time to admire your long time friend. His hair was growing out from the last time he dyed it, laying nicely on his shoulders and cut jaggedly. His brown eyes had drifted from you, staring up into the canopy of the trees that surrounded you both, the sun shining across his nose. The beauty mark that rested below his right eye and on his left cheek. He was too pretty for his own good. Not to mention his good sense of fashion and funny personality, he was like your dream boyfriend wrapped in a single package. Well actually…

Yeah, you fell for your friend…a while ago too. Could you blame yourself? He was sweet, caring, funny, pretty, maybe a little dense and average when it came to school work, but you wouldn’t have him any other way. Daisuke was a good guy, a bit lost at the moment, but you were gonna stick by his side until he found his passion, and hopefully after that too.

“They found an internship actually,” Daisuke broke the silence, brown eyes landing back on yours. 

“Oh?” You questioned back, blinking out of your stupor. “Where?”

“Pony Express,” He shrugged, trying to look nonchalant, but you could tell it was bothering him. 

“You mean the shitty delivery company?” You asked confused. “The one that ships to other planets?”

“Yeah,” Daisuke replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s not concrete or anything, but they’re kinda serious about this one.”

Your stomach dropped. There was no way he was actually…

“I don’t think I can say no.”

It was like your world was crumbling. Daisuke was not only your crush, but the only friend you talked to outside of high school…he was kind of your only friend. Not only that, but the safety of those trips have been heavily criticized, especially Pony Express. They were known for cutting costs and slipping things under the rug. Many workers came out with accusations that were swiftly silenced, rumors of toxic work culture littered everywhere you could look. What were his parents thinking?!

“R-really?” You asked, trying to mask the fear that coated your words and expression. “Isn’t…there are so many other trades, why would they start you with something so demanding?”

“To teach me responsibility,” He shrugged, avoiding your gaze. You felt anger start bubbling up within you. Sure, Daisuke hasn’t had a real job yet, but that wasn’t an excuse to throw him to the wolves to teach him a lesson! Sure, they meant well, but what about an electrician's apprentice or welder, hell even a plumber! Just…something that wasn’t him hurtling through space for God knows how long with little to no communication. 

“I-it’s not as bad as it sounds,” He tried to console you, but you, you were absolutely livid, trying to calm yourself down by taking deep breaths. 

“What if I find you something different?” You asked, your desperation clearly showing. Daisuke felt his stomach twist, he always hated seeing you sad, and now he was the reason. 

“I don’t know,” He sighed. “Maybe if it’s something serious looking.

“Okay,” You nodded, suddenly getting serious. “How about we try finding alternatives together? Try to find the best of both worlds.”

“Sure,” Daisuke replied back, looking a bit more hopeful than before.

…

“Wanna sip?” You asked, tilting your drink towards Daisuke. He had seemed intrigued by what you got, but ordered something different. Sharing was a common occurrence between you both anyways, so neither of you batted an eye. 

“Thank you,” He grinned brightly, taking a quick sip before leaning back in his chair. “Oh, that is good! I’ll have to get it next time.” You nodded, taking a quick sip before placing the cup on the table. Your eyes noticed the pink hue that seemed to seep into Daisuke’s cheeks, but decided to ignore it, instead taking a glance around you both. You were visiting the local mall, spending some more time together. Many types of people walked past you as you both sat in the food court having a quick snack before continuing your shopping. 

“Y’know,” He spoke up, snapping your attention back onto him. “I think someone’s checking you out right now.” The way he spoke was conspiratorial, leaning across the table and whispering into your ear. 

You blinked in confusion, glancing around once more before whispering back, “Who?”

“That guy,” Daisuke pointed discreetly to a guy who was not even hiding the fact that he was indeed looking at you. It made your skin shiver, not liking the attention.

“Ew,” Was your immediate response, causing the both of you to break out laughing, huddling into each other like little kids who were trying to hide. 

“I thought you’ve been wanting a boyfriend for forever,” Daisuke chuckled out, whipping an invisible tear from his eye.

“Yeah,” You grumbled back, trying to ignore the way your cheeks flamed at the admission. “But not a random person.”

“Then how are you gonna find someone?” He asked innocently, tilting his head in genuine confusion. 

“I…” Was it just you or was the room getting hotter, ‘cus you felt like you were starting to sweat bullets. (Un)fourtunately, the guy from moments before walked over, somehow the sight of you and your friend laughing uncontrollably after looking at him boosted his confidence…somehow. People were still a mystery to you. 

“Hey,” The guy greeted, a slimy smirk on his lips. He wasn’t the worst looking person, he actually looked conventionally attractive, but that seemed to make this all worse for you. He was clearly confident in his looks and his friends were watching while snickering to each other. Gosh, this felt like high school all over again, he was probably gonna say something nice and then immediately insult you. You thought you were past this stage in life already…apparently not. 

“Uh, hi,” You greeted back awkwardly, constantly glancing at Daisuke like your life depended on it. 

“I noticed you from across the room and thought you looked attractive,” The random guy said, eyes once again looking you up and down. Oh God, this was worse than high school…was he being serious right now? You tried to hide your grimace, not wanting to upset him, but also not wanting to lead him on.

“Uh…thanks?” It came out as more of a question, and you elbowed Daisuke as he let out a muffled laugh, absolutely eating up this awkward encounter. 

“Yeah,” The guy nodded, not even sparing a glance to your friend. “So I was wondering if I could get your number.” Your heart dropped, panic started to thrum through your veins. What do you say? Well, no of course. But how do you say it without sounding like an asshole?

“It’s (xxx) xxx-xxxx,” Daisuke smiled ‘innocently’. You gave him a blank stare, trying your hardest to not grin like the cheshire cat. The guy put the number that not only wasn’t yours, but Daisuke’s, into his phone before winking at you.

“Cool,” The guy smiled. “I’ll text you later.”

“Y-yeah,” You coughed into your palm, trying to smother the laughter that was threatening to bubble up. As soon as the guy left your vicinity, you both broke into a fit of chuckles, clutching onto the other all the while. 

“I can’t believe you did that,” You cackled. “God I love you so much.” 

It was an innocent admission. Something you had been holding close to your heart for who knows how long. It had been bubbling and brewing with every smile he sent your way, every silly drawing and caring gesture, every time he comforted you or made you laugh. It was bound to overflow, to spill past your lips in a moment of vulnerability…but the second it left you, your expression dropped. Once again panicking as Daisuke looked at you in surprise. It was hard to ignore the pink on his cheeks this time. 

Trying to regain his composure, with a small smile he replied, “I love you too.” The atmosphere was tense, and you knew he meant it platonically…at least that’s what you thought. He was giving you an out, and you weren’t sure if you wanted to take it. But as the chatter of other people around you filled your senses once more, bags rustling and the smell of a mix of foods, you decided it wasn’t the best setting to go over such emotions. 

Fingers twitching, you grab one of Daisuke’s hands, gathering your bags in the other. He sent you a confused (and a bit frightful) look, but grabbed his own items, letting you pull him away when he was ready. Every nerve in your body felt alight, trying to ignore how his fingers curled around your own, how your heart was going a mile a minute, how you felt like you couldn’t hold it in anymore. For all you knew, he was going to intern at Pony Express, and you had been holding these feelings in for far too long, and he just needed to know you were serious about your accidental confession. 

When you both sat in your car, you turned the music down, turning to face the confused man, “I meant it.”

Blinking, he simply replied, “I meant it too.”

“No,” You groaned, face aflame and heart pounding. “I love you, Daisuke. Like, I want to hold hands with you and do gross coupley things.”

His blush had become ten times more prominent, the red coating his tanned cheeks brightly, eyes wide in astonishment. Daisuke never knew you liked him like that. Sure, he had hoped, having grown feelings for you as well. Unlike his other friends that he would go out and party with, you were more grounding, enjoying the quiet moments and letting him vent when needed. You had been his friend for so long, he couldn’t imagine a life without you by his side. Whenever his parents or you asked him what he wanted for his future, all he could really come up with was that he wanted you there.

And now you were here, confessing to him. Was he dreaming? Had he died and gone to heaven? Could this really be happening? Well, whatever this was, he wasn’t going to let this opportunity go.

“I…I wanna do that too, with you,” He replied back, gaze shifting from yours, but the giddy smile on his face gave away that he meant what he was saying. 

“R-really?” You asked hopefully. 

“Of course!” Daisuke responded passionately, his embarrassment slowly fading. “You always listen to me ramble about stupid things, and you keep my stupid drawings and you're also really pretty, or, uh, handsome, no I mean beautiful…shit.”

You chuckled, reaching out and grabbing his hand somewhat bashfully, “I think you’re pretty, handsome, and beautiful too.”

And as the both of you sat there, staring at each other with loving gazes, you felt like no matter what, things would be fine. You both can get through any problem as long as you have the other.

Bonus:

“Oh my God he texted me!” Daisuke exclaimed, calling out your name like you weren’t lying right next to him. 

Turning off your phone, you snuggled into his side, resting your head on his shoulder, both staring at his phone, “What did he say?”

“Hey, it’s the guy from the mall,” Daisuke read aloud. “Do you wanna come watch a movie at my place?” 

“Ew,” You scrunch your nose at the thought. “Who thinks it's a good idea for the first date to be at a private location?”

“He probably thought he was gonna get some,” Daisuke rolled his eyes, wrapping an arm around your waist. 

“Yeah, I think that’s even worse,” You grumbled. 

He only chuckled, asking, “What should I say back?”

“I dunno,” You shrugged. “Something stupid.”

“Sorry, I have to fold my dishes,” Daisuke spoke while typing, the silly grin never leaving his lips. 

“That’s such an old meme,” You laughed. Your boyfriend merely shrugged, clicking send anyways. The two of you watched as it was marked read, then the message bubbles that popped up and disappears periodically. The two of you were giggling like it was the funniest thing in the world.

“When are you free then?” You read out this time. “Wow, am I really that good looking?”

“Duh,” Daisuke rolled his eyes while squeezing your waist. “I just got lucky that you chose me.”

“I didn’t choose you,” You replied. “You kinda snuck your way into my heart and one day I was like, damn…I like him.”

Looking down at you, Daisuke stared like you had hung the stars and moon, causing your heart to accelerate. Leaning down, he placed a short kiss to your lips, then swiftly kissed you again and again until his heart's content.

As you both got lost in each other's love, you had completely forgotten about the random guy, whose messages were left forgotten.

[insert-this-fire]

Overpoweringly Sweet

Logan Howlett aka Wolverine x gn!nonspecified mutant! Reader

Summary: Somehow you contracted Hanahaki for a man you hardly ever spoken to. Cant end well can it?

W/C: ~9k Warnings: a little OOC, angst, graphic description of coughing up flowers with blood.

AO3 Mirror A/N: I never post actual fics on tumblr but I feel that it needs to be done here. So sorry if its kinda formatted weird? it will also be on AO3!. First x-men fic too so sorry if its a bit ooc. Not really based on any specific iteration of Wolverine. Also not edited like, at all. Also I take requests! :3

~~ :3 ~~

You know, having a crush on someone so unattainable is laughable at best. Having a crush on them and apparently somehow contracting Hanahaki is even worse. How does that even happen? You haven’t even spoken to the guy more than a few words. Too embarrassed to open your mouth to introduce yourself and you work together. Yet here you are, petals on the bathroom floor and a constricting feeling in your throat. Your head lying on the back of the stall door. Still heaving from the sudden onslaught of overly sickly floral-scented petals that spilled out.

Gardenias. Pure white and mocking. 

The smell of them made you nauseous. The sight of them even more so. After looking up what they meant. It just made things even worse.

Secret love. How fitting.

It’s a damn crush, and the world decided it was love. Love for a grumpy ass old man with hair that kinda made you think of a cat. Actually, he reminded you of a cat in general. One that you want to rest your face on and fall asleep. Bury your face in those pecs of his. Muscles may look hard, but they do have a bit of squish. By God, does he have muscles. You’ve caught him shirtless a few times. All by accident, of course. You weren’t a pervert. Anytime you think of it, your jaw clenches tight.

Ah, getting off-topic here. Back to the fact that apparently, hanahaki doesn’t care if you’ve ever talked to someone before.

The stall door was cool against your cheek when you turned your head, and it was less gross than hugging the toilet like you wanted to so you could flush the flowers down the drain. It was terrible. The petals surround you, and a single full bloom floats mockingly in the toilet.

You know how to cure it. The moment that the flower petals started to spill from your lips, you desperately looked for what it was. It wasn’t that hard to find, apparently some find it sickeningly romantic. Bet they never had to deal with the ache that was constant around your lungs. You found the cure for it as well. Should be easy to do, right? Tell the person how you feel and they return it, or get it surgically removed. The surgery should be the right choice. It’s the only choice. You’ve hardly spoken to the man who coveted your affection, but the thought of not feeling the tug of your heart when you see him was too much to bear. Which makes no sense! It’s a dumb crush.

God, you’re an idiot.

A deep breath fills your lungs slightly, and the pain wraps around your chest as you try to get a full breath. Your hands find purchase on the rim of the toilet, and you push yourself up. Now, on two shaky legs, you wipe your mouth. You need to clean up the petals before anyone comes in. It was still the middle of the day, and classes were still going. Thank God the coughing fit didn’t hit you till lunch, or you would have to explain to a classroom full of students. That would be embarrassing. Yeah sorry class, your teacher is in love with someone they can’t have, let’s continue with the lesson now! Embarrassing.

Your hands start to pick up the petals. Each one feels as if it was searing into your skin. One, two, five, ten, thirty. Thirty petals and one full bloom. You were screwed. You could go to Hank. See if he knew any other way around it, any way to fix the disgusting flowers that took root in your lungs. Maybe being a mutant changed how to cure the disease? That was just hopeful thinking, though.

After mulling over the choices for a few moments more, you finally unlock the stall door and walk over to the garbage, quickly discarding the petals that did not make it into the toilet.

Your feet then carry you out of the bathroom and, as luck would have it, right into the chest of the one person you did not want to face yet.

Logan.

You were right, though. The muscles on his chest were squishy. God you want to just motorboat him real fast. Would that be weird? Yeah it would be. As quickly as you ran into him, you tried to remove yourself from his personal space. You know the guy wasn’t too fond of touch. You think. You actually… don’t know. Words quickly spill from your mouth as you try to apologize. “Sorry, sorry. Didn’t see you.”

Logan just makes some gruff-sounding noise and continues on his way. You could faintly see as he walked away scrunching of his nose. He was probably able to smell the faint floral scent that was clinging to you. It probably wasn’t pleasant. You didn’t like the scent, it probably was a lot stronger on his end.

As you stand in the hallway after the sudden bump into your crush, you place your hand on your chest to calm your beating heart, and you walk in the opposite direction to your classroom. It hurt that he didn’t even say anything back to your apology, but that seemed pretty in character. To you, at least. If you were on friendlier terms, maybe not, but you doubt he even knows your name.

The thought of the surgery resurfaces in your head. Maybe you should get it. Ignore the deep-seated pain in your heart at the thought of losing your feelings for him. However, the repercussions of a botched removal is another reason not to do so. It could remove the feeling of ever being in love again. Would that be so bad though?

You shake your head. You have a class you have to get back to… and a phone call to make.

The day continued on like normal after that. Classes, grading papers, discreetly removing petals from your mouth into the trashcan by your desk as you graded papers. A new norm for you. It did seem that a few students had noticed a slight change in you. In fact, one of them even got you a get well soon card. Sweet, but it left a bitter taste in your mouth.

If you don’t get better soon, you will probably end up another statistic for the disease. How many people were there that had it and perished as the roots wrapped around the lungs and slowly filled the valves on the heart. Too many, probably. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at that. That’s why you were now sitting in your now empty classroom, making a phone call. You had found a number to a doctor who specializes in the disease. You would get some advice and decide from there what you want to do.

The phone rings, once, twice….

“Hello, this is Dr. Forrest’s office. How may I help you?” How fitting a doctor who knows about Hanahaki has a nature-based last name.

You quickly introduce yourself and ask if you could speak to him or schedule an appointment. Apparently the only way to talk to him is with an appointment. The next one isn’t for a few months. You don’t even know if you’ll last that long. You’ve been keeping track. A full bloom appeared today. A singular full bloom, no steam. The petals were loose so it had to be in the early start of the mid stages. It was taking its time infecting you. It must be due to not seeing Logan all the time.

You do tend to avoid him when you can. The thought of seeing him always makes your cheeks burn. Man was just too hot. It made it seem like you were in love with just his looks! You weren’t. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be coughing up all these petals. You’re pretty sure it wasn’t just his looks. The flower has a meaning, after all.

Maybe if you avoid Logan, actually stop trying to see if you can see him across the halls. Stop looking for him during dining hours. Just try to ignore him. Though unless he was going to go on one of those sudden long vanishing acts. Well, you doubt that you actually will be able to avoid him enough to live till the next appointment. You really are screwed. Shit.

Running a hand over your face with a groan you lean back in the chair behind your desk. What should you do? The surgery now seemed to be out of the question. So now you either confess and die, or you just die. Which definitely was not the ideal thing to do. You were screwed. Hands down. Your name is on the death warrant the moment the receptionist said months. Maybe you should go to Hank. Dude was a certified genius right? He would know something.

A knock at your door made you jump. Quickly you lift your head and look over to the closed door to your classroom. Could be a student, another faculty member? Whoever it was either needed you or the room.

“Come on in.”

Silence followed and then the door opened up. Your gaze turns to the door, ready to answer whatever questions that are going to follow. Till you hear the tall tale sound of boots, heavy. The sound of jeans rubbing against legs. A jacket rustling slightly from movement. Jeez, why are you suddenly so aware of the sounds?

Your eyes hone in on the man you’ve been thinking about. Logan. Twice. TWICE in one day you’ve seen him up close. See him in your space. He never seeks you out. You never get to see him up close like this more than once or twice a week. It’s like you’re in a fanfiction and someone is pushing the two of you together.

That’s silly though, this was real life.

“Oh, Logan. How can I… help you?” Could you sound any more awkward? You want to bang your head on your desk. Especially with how he was just looking at you. Should you have called him Wolverine? Mr. Howlett?

“You need to let up on that perfume you’re wearing. Can smell it all over the hall.” His face gives away the fact he smells something he doesn’t like. 

Perfume?... Perfume… The flowers. Of course he could smell it. The floral scent has been clinging to you since the first petals slipped from between your lips.

“Oh, heh sorry. I’ll try to use less of it.” You just laugh a bit, still feeling a tad bit uncomfortable, the sudden tickle in your throat reminding you that you could not stop the smell from permeating your skin. That it will linger on you till you no longer have these flowers growing inside of your chest. “If I use too much again I’m sorry. Can’t really tell when I use too much or not.”

Blue eyes narrow at you, you can tell he doesn’t believe you. That he should call you out on it. “Thanks bub, it’s masking everything else.”

With that he left the room as quickly as he came, there was a slight pause and you can tell he glanced at the trash can by your desk. The trash can that had a few petals thrown in haphazardly. Thought to be hidden by the papers that you threw on top. You hope that is all he sees.

That was such an awkward interaction. You slam your head on the desk once more. God why are you such an idiot.

~~ :3c ~~

Time continues on like normal, but recently you catch Logan at the corner of your eye. Which is normal, you usually do seek him out. Yet now it’s like he is everywhere you go. Walking in the gardens, he’s out there smoking one of his cigars leaning on a tree or the wall of the mansion. You’d be eating and you’d see him a table or two away, his eyes on you. You can feel them boring into your skin. You’ll be walking in the hallways and see him turning a corner before you fully spot him. More often than not you find him outside of the bathroom you were just in after coughing up a storm. Just standing by the door like a guard dog. Always scrunching his nose when the door opens and the aroma of flowers follows you out.

He knew. He had to. He had to know something was wrong with you. There is no way he doesn’t. The man has been alive long enough that he probably knows the signs of what you have. The disease that is currently ruining your life. He has probably seen all sorts of people who have had Hanahaki. You won’t be the first, nor the last person he has seen inflicted with it either. It’s probably why he’s keeping an eye on you. He must have found out when he came to ask you to stop using so much perfume and yet you still smell that sickeningly floral smell on you.

Unless you’re just suddenly more aware of him than you were before. Which you shouldn’t be. You were already highly aware of him due to your damn dumb crush that’s killing you. Eyes are always lingering on him.

It’s probably because of the scent that’s following you around. It is probably sticking out more than your usual scent, which was. You don’t know. What do you normally smell like? Apparently, it’s something non-distinct since the new smell is pretty overpowering. If you can smell it, it must be strong.

You wish you knew what was going through the man’s head. You couldn’t really ask him. You aren’t close to him like that. Can’t ask the people he is close to either because you aren’t close to them. You kinda just, are here in the mansion teaching. You’re not a part of x-men, you aren’t too interested in fighting anyways. You earned your keep teaching. You are vaguely close to Hank though. Well, in recent events at least. You could ask him?

Yeah, no, you aren’t. You’re going to suffer through this. You can handle it. You don’t need to know what’s going on in his mind.

Which reminds you, you need to actually go talk to Hank. You’ve been putting it off, but the full blooms are startling. Every other coughing fit brings one full bloom. It has only been a week since the first bloom and with the sudden influx of Logan sightings, it is speeding up. You needed an out and fast. Before it kills you.

Thus here you are walking through the mansion to head down to his lab. Quickly avoiding anyone you see. The scent of flowers following you through the halls like a wraith. Leaving a trail of sweetness to waft into the air. Disgusting.

As you make your way into the lab you spot Hank, or Beast? Shit, you don’t even know which one he prefers to be called. You really should ask, huh. Anyway, you spot him.

When the blue-furred man spots you, he quickly greets you with your name: “It is good to see you this fine evening. What do I owe the pleasure? It is not often I see you down here.”

If you could, you would sigh deeply. The rattling of vines stops the motion before it begins. “Hi yeah uh. I got into a delicate situation and I don’t know who else to go to? The doctor I had called can’t really see me and I don’t know what else to do and you’re like… The smartest person I know so I’m hoping… you could help?” The words spill out quickly.

Hank raises an eyebrow and fixes the glasses perched on his face. The man was upside down for some odd reason, and he quickly flipped to land on the ground. With grace you don’t expect for someone his size. Then again, you’ve seen some weird ass mutations. He motions for you to sit down on one of the beds stationed in the lab. One used when needed for situations like this. Medical, scientific, not something you can throw a punch at and fix.

After sitting down on the bed, you start to explain. Words flowing like a waterfall. He is the first person you have gone into detail about your condition. How the petals slip from your lips like a poison, the tightening of your chest with each breath. The fear of losing yourself to unrequited love and dying because of it. You do not mention who it is directed at nor the fact you thought it was a crush and did not deserve to have evolved into such a disease.

The room fell silent after your reveal, a silence that stretched on longer than you would have liked. God, you hope he has an idea about how to help you out of this mess.

“From my knowledge there are only two cures. I assume you already know.” A pause as you answer with a curt nod. “I do not believe there are any other alternatives other than what has been proven to work. I assume that you are here to find out if there are any or that you require the surgery.”

“I can’t tell them… I really had hoped that you would know. I don’t.” You sigh and run a hand through your hair, messing it up slightly. It was already a mess from earlier, but you know how hands are in hair. “It’s not an option to tell them.”

“I see. It will take some time, but I will see if I can learn the correct procedure so that there will be minimal to no complications.” Hank pats you on the shoulder and motions for you to head out. He had some things to do and research to go over. Escorting you out of his lab so Hank may do what is necessary. He didn’t give a timeline, but you trust that he can do it before your time is up.

You really hope that he can do this.

After leaving the lab, you had to pass some of the other faculty. Or X-men? Yeah, it seems they are setting off on a mission of some sort. You pass Cyclops, Storm, Jean and. Yeah, that is exactly who you don’t want to see right now. Logan. Seems he is going with them. To, wherever they have to go. You give them all a small nod in acknowledgment as you pass them. Each one provides you a small smile or nods back.

Logan though? He pauses when you pass him. His face contorted into something you weren’t too sure of. He probably caught another whiff of the flowers on you. Great. The others give him a look and he just grunts at them. Somehow they understand and continue on their way. Leaving you with Logan.

A hand grabs your bicep, fingers wrapping around the muscle. Your gaze drops to the hand, in another life you were sure it would be rough with use, but it was surprisingly soft. The grip was not, natural strength hidden behind the hold. A promise that you would not be able to pull away without exerting yourself.

“You’re smellin’ worse. Thought I told you to let up.” A gruff voice, oh how you want to roll in that voice. That was a weird thought, you should probably stop thinking of that like a weirdo. God are you a weirdo?

An awkward laugh bubbles up from your chest. You can feel your own muscles tense under his hold and gaze. Damn he’s never looked at you like this before. A slight glare, crinckled nose, and a slight snarl on his lips. You must be really weird because damn was that kind of a hot look. Which somehow in turn makes your chest tighten and the tickle of a cough is trying to break free. You swallow hard to bite it back. Yet you can feel the petals moving through your throat. 

“Sorry sorry, I guess I overdid it?” You pull your eyes away from his. Unable to continue to look at his face. Be it from your weird thoughts, the tickle in your throat or your inability to keep eye contact with someone. “I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.”

“You’re hiding that you're sick.” The grip on your arm tightens. Not in a painful manner no, but a reminder that you cannot run away from this conversation. Which is odd right? Why does Logan care? You two hardly know each other. Sure you apparently love the man, but you’re still sure he doesn’t even know your name. You’ve seen him care for others in the mansion, a good friend in an odd way. A father figure and mentor to some of the students. Also in a weird way. You’re sure he’d brush off that idea and say he isn’t. He is.

Wait, he just said you’re sick… “I’m not sick?” 

Logan's eyes narrow as he stares at you. Do you look sick? Sure you’ve gotten a little pale and eating has gotten a little hard so you haven’t been eating as much as you usually do. Does being sick have a smell to it? Fuck that is weird. Well, some animals could tell when others are sick before physical symptoms show. Maybe that's how he knew. No, that wouldn’t make sense because you aren’t really sick. You just have a big fat crush that's killing you. 

You can tell Logan doesn’t believe you. “Just fix it. Can’t stand the smell on you.” His hand lets go and he stalks down the hallway to where the others had walked off to. Your eyes linger on his form as he walks away. The ghost of a feeling on your arm where his hand had wrapped around it. The slight warmth seeping into your skin slowly vanishes. God you’re fucked. 

~~ >:3 ~~

And fucked you are. It’s been at least two months since you told Hank about the hanahaki. Hank is taking his sweet ass time researching the procedure, the doctor you called has called back finally and mentioned that his next opening for a consultation was still months away. Which you decide to say fuck that guy, you trust Hank can do it. The doctor probably won’t even work on a mutant. Logan is still always at the corner of your eye. A scowl or sneer on his face anytime he looks at you. Not to mention the flowers! They’re getting worse.

Full blooms, multiple at a time. Their petals no longer loose around the center. Now they are tightly packed, fully bloomed and speckled with blood as they escape through your throat. Occasionally there would be a flower that had not bloomed yet. Still wrapped tightly, not fully formed. You weren’t sure what that meant, but you’re sure it wasn’t good. At least they were not roses. You feel bad for those who dealt with that. Thorns were something you were happy that was not in the mix of your own flower hell.

The flowers aren’t fully developed yet. Stems have not fallen with them. Yet you are unsure if you would survive long enough to see the end stages of hanahaki. Your body is getting weaker and weaker each day. Your own mutation even fighting against you. You can hardly call on it now. Once you had wished to be a normal person, but that has been years ago. Now you feel like you are losing a part of yourself. These damn flowers truly are killing you. Both physically and emotionally. 

You had to leave class more often. The coughs that tore through your chest made it unbearable to speak long enough to teach an entire class to its completion. Students start to worry, other faculty seem to notice the sudden change as you have to start asking for people to cover your class for you as you rush to the restroom to hug the porcelain throne to exude the flowers of love. Each time more and more petals fall from your lips, tears stain your cheeks more often due to the pain and energy it takes to clear them out from your throat. 

It has gotten to the point where you had to ask someone to cover your class in full, or cancel it. You don’t want to cancel your classes, but at the rate you are going it will be the only thing you can do. Today is probably the last full class you can handle, you feel like shit. Your throat itches, your stomach aches from the lack of food. Your head hurts because of the lack of sleep from the coughing. Yeah, you might have to take a break from it all. What surprises you is that Logan is waiting outside of your classroom.

Ok it’s not that surprising. You’ve been catching him outside your classroom since he came back. It is like he is suddenly more aware of you. He doesn’t say anything, but you can feel his eyes on you. You would be excited usually, your crush suddenly paying attention to you! How great is that? Yet lately it just makes things feel so much worse. Especially with that sneer on his face. You know he knows something is up, he made it clear two months ago. Though he hasn’t brought it up again. Yet he is always there. Like a shadow. 

Which is honestly a bit uncomfortable. You aren’t used to this amount of attention. 

“You don’t have to stand out here you know?” Papers you needed to grade were in your arms. You may need to take a break, but you should at least grade these papers before someone takes the class over. Your last bit of work. 

Logan just stares at you. The slight glare, the wrinkled nose, the arms crossing making those muscles bulge out of his shirt. You had to quickly drag your eyes away from his arms so you aren’t caught staring. You don’t meet his eyes though. It was too intense. 

“You’re getting worse.” Way to point out the obvious Logan.

“Good observation.” A short pause follows after. Silence falls for a few moments. “I uh, it’s why I’m takin a break. Sick leave? Uh… Yeah…” You really don’t know how to talk to him. The tickle in your throat is back again. Too soon, you just hacked up half your lung just moments before. You really don’t want to cough in front of him. You thought he might already know what it is, but he still thinks the smell on you is perfume. So no way do you want him to know the truth. 

Logan stares at you a few moments longer, a slight grunt. His head motioned for you to follow him. That’s how you read it at least as he starts to walk down the corridor and only pauses to look at you. Looks like you’re following him. This can’t end well can it? 

The two of you walk silently through the corridors. Your arms are still full of papers, but it seems the two of you are heading out into the garden. Probably for the best, the crisp air outside will dull the floral scent. Hopefully at least. Even if it lingers on your skin and it has gotten to the point others have even started to point it out. The halls were mostly empty though at this time. Most students are already off doing their own thing, you can vaguely hear a laughter from down the hall as the two of you finally make your way outside.

Into the garden, the cool air bites at your exposed arms. You should have worn a jacket. Too late for that now it seems. The trees are already turning orange, autumn making its way across the land. Oranges, reds and browns. If you weren’t full of anxiety you would be enjoying the sights. Especially as Logan brings you over to a small bench by the man-made pond. A bit away from everyone, but still close enough to the mansion you can dash inside if needed. 

You take a seat first. The papers sit beside you. Logan stands in front of you. Arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He isn’t sitting. Why isn’t he sitting?

“So uh…” Your voice comes out first, awkward and a bit unsure. The tickle in your throat grows again as you fight it back.

“It’s not perfume on you is it?” Logan’s gaze never leaves yours, but you can’t help but look away. Too uncomfortable with the eyes boring into you. You never once used perfume, though you did use that as an excuse didn’t you?

Silence followed after. Your eyes looking at the ground as you kick your legs back and forth. Unable to voice the truth. Logan is still looking at you, jaw clenching most likely. You don’t have to look at him to know.

His voice finally cuts through the silence. Apparently he was sick of you beating around the bush and not answering him. Your name on his lips startling you slightly. You honestly thought he didn’t know your name, but it seems you were wrong. “What's makin you so sick that it’s leaving you to look like that and smell like that.”

You should tell him. Tell him. TELL HIM. 

… 

You’ll tell him without actually telling him. You don’t think you’d survive telling him the full truth. You’re a pretty good liar most of the time. He might be able to pick through the lie but he’s not that perceptive right? 

“I uh… It’s.” You feel like you’re stumbling over your words, your throat constricting. “I have.”

You couldn’t finish your sentence. Your muscles tensing as a cough tears through you. Violently. Your body lurching forward as your hand shoots up to cover your lips as the cough pulls out petals and blossoms alike. Your hand can’t catch all the petals as they spill to the ground. Your eyes clenching shut as tears prickle the corners due to how painful it was. The other hand not covering your mouth grabs at your chest. As if you could claw the roots out through your skin. It burns. 

It burns, it burns, it burns. 

It won’t stop. You can’t stop hacking up the petals. Each cough brings out a sob with it as well. It has never been this bad. The scent of gardenias explodes. It burns your nose. You hate the smell of it. If you survive you’ll never be able to handle this scent again. Your body retching forward as you double over. Body crumpling in on itself as you try desperately to get some air into your already filled lungs. You would think having plants living in your lungs would give you more oxygen. If only it didn’t wrap tightly around your lungs and neighboring organs. Leaving little space for what you truly needed.

You almost forget Logan is there with you. An unexpected presence sits beside you. Warmth seeping into your side. He doesn’t set a comforting hand on your back. Doesn’t say any words. But him sitting beside you is enough comfort. You don’t think you could handle physical touch anyways. Your body would probably jerk harder at it. Hanahaki really was a killing disease wasn’t it. It was going to kill you before even getting to the final stage. You can’t do this.

Slowly the coughing fit lessens. The petals and blooms spilling from your mouth as if it was all you breathed came to a stop. Your body still hunched over, tears filling your eyes as you finally, finally stopped coughing up the damned flowers. You were still shaking, trying to catch the lost breath.

“You’re ok sweetheart. Just try and breathe.” Something large, heavy, warm rests on your upper back. Small soothing circles. He called you sweetheart, that was strange. You don’t expect comfort. You don’t think Logan expected to comfort you like this either. It was an awkward movement, but comforting. You wanted to lean into it, lean into him. You weren’t going to though. Pain was radiating through your chest and you weren’t sure you would be able to sit up straight without coughing again. Fear that any movement will bring on another coughing fit settled inside of you like a vice. You can still feel the slight tickle in your raw throat. 

You taste blood.

It takes a few tries, gasping tries, before air finally was able to fill your lungs enough that you could breathe properly. Or well, as well as you can with roots wrapping around your insides. You pull out a few petals that were still stuck in your mouth and let them fall to the ground as you slowly sit up. Still slightly hunched over but no longer practically hugging your legs. You wipe your mouth on the back of your hand, blood from your lips smearing across your skin. Eyes on the ground where the mess you made mocks you. There's so much, white and red. White flowers that you would have thought beautiful covered in splotches of your own blood. Tainting the gardenias, tainting the meaning of secret love. Disgusting. You’re disgusting. 

Your eyes linger on the ground as you finally speak. Voice raspy and strained. “Sorry.” 

“Nothin to be sorry about, nasty thing you got. Seen it a few times.” Logan’s voice is gruff, yet there is a touch of something tender in there. Unexpected. You don’t like it. He shouldn’t be treating you like this. He doesn’t know you, he doesn’t know that you’re like this because of him, because of your dumb crush on him that the world decided was good enough to practically kill you.  

Ok that’s not true. You know under his rough and tough demeanor and the huge, insensitive ass he could be. He’s caring and trustworthy. Loyal as fuck and self-sacrificing. It’s what had drawn you in in the first place. The soft look he’d give to people he cared about when no one was looking. The way he treats the younger mutants. It was heartwarming. Your admiration for him turned from simply looking up to him to wanting him to look at you that way.

Silence falls between the two of you again as you continue to try to take in oxygen. The taste of iron and earth is still on your tongue. The sound of fellow mutants distantly chatting and the occasional bird cuts through the silence. You don’t want to talk, you don’t want to tell him who your affliction derives from. You doubt he would ask, but he might. You’ll need to think of an excuse. A lie. Anything to keep him from finding out it is him. He’d reject you. You know this already. You’ve seen him look at others. He doesn’t look at you like that. You just learned he knew your name too! The two of you hardly spoke before. This is the most attention you have ever gotten from him. He doesn’t love you the way the disease needs him to. 

“Who's the asshole?” His words cut through the silence again. Surprising you once more. This definitely is the most words he has ever spoken to you.

“Doesn’t matter… He doesn’t feel the same.” Your throat continued to feel raw. It hurt to speak, but you needed to answer. You couldn’t stay quiet when he asked. Your gaze moves from the ground to glance at him from the side. You try not to meet his eyes but you can see a look on his face that had never been directed towards you. In any other situation you would be happy, ecstatic. Right now though, it makes your stomach tie up in uncomfortable knots. 

A slight hint of anger crosses Logan’s face and his hand just rests on your back, no longer rubbing those soothing circles. You know he wants to know. The look he has on him makes you think he sees you as someone under his protection, it’s nice. Even if it is not really what you want at the moment.

“So you’re willing to die for him.” There was a short pause between his words. His tone is soft, you don’t like it. “Seen most with it die that way. Shouldn’t have to die like that.”

You decide not to reply to the fact that you were willing to die for these feelings. Why? Because you still don’t want to believe it is true. Even with the flowers clearly showing signs the crush was love. Infatuation. You hate this. “Dr. Mccoy is going to perform the surgery for me. Should be any day now.”

You at least hope it will be any day now. You spoke to him a couple days ago and he seemed a bit all over the place so you couldn’t ask him if he was ready yet. You know he hadn’t forgotten, you saw the books laying on one of the tables next to some tools, but time was ticking and it was ticking fast. You know it and now… Now Logan knows it too. You’re on limited time. 

“I… can’t tell him. He doesn’t feel the same, he can’t. I’ll die if I tell him. I have to do the surgery. I’d rather chance not feeling love again than to confess and die. I…” Your hands curl into themselves as you look back down at the flowers. The tightening in your chest squeezes harder. You don’t need to explain yourself, but you feel like you have to. This way you can come to terms with it. Speaking it out loud makes it all too real. “I trust Dr.Mccoy. He won’t fail. He… he can’t.”

“Lotta trust in the guy.” Logan leans back on the bench, his hand lingering on your back removes itself as he crosses his arms. You feel the itch in your throat again, it’s too soon for more petals. You at least hope so. Logan then continues, “Remember watching someone choke on their own blood cause of that shit. Don’t want to see you on that end sweetheart.”

Logan called you sweetheart, again. It made butterflies fly around your stomach, churning with the anxiety already there. It was not the most comfortable of feelings. You weren’t expecting it this time either. It was nice. Would be nicer in better circumstances though. “Thanks Logan, but I’ll survive this. I have to…”

“Still think you should tell me who this asshole is. Could talk to him.” You hear the familiar snikt sound, a clear sign he extended his claws. A glance over was all you needed to confirm he did, the light gleaming off the metal. 

“God no! Sure actions speak louder than words for him, but it wont help.” Because he’d be threatening himself. You couldn’t help but let a pathetic laugh bubble up. Pain radiating through your chest and throat as you do so. At least you can still find some humor in this. Logan’s claws go right back under his skin and between his knuckles at your words. Though you can tell he still seemed interested in using violence against who is causing this for you. God, you wish you could tell him.

The two of you fall into another silence. Your own thoughts are swirling through your head and you’re sure Logan is also dealing with his own thoughts. Your disease is now out there. What truly ales you has been revealed without you actually saying the words. You wished you could have said the words, said what it was, told him your feelings. Though things never work out that way do they. 

You aren’t sure how this was going to end.

Logan looks at you the same time you gaze at him. Your eyes meet his blue ones. You would wax poetic about his eyes, but that seems pretty cliche. Everyone always does when talking about blue eyes, how they look like the ocean, or the sky. Logan’s reminds you of steel, the silvery blue that almost matches the adamantium claws you see on occasion. There is something in those eyes though, something you can’t read. Something behind that wall everyone knows he puts up. You want to dig deeper, fall into those eyes to avoid all your problems. Be free of the pain you can’t escape. The two of you seem to just stare at each other far longer than it felt. 

“Tell me when you get the surgery. I want to be there.” 

“...Okay.”

And just like that, the two of you break eye contact and fall into a silence. A silence only broken by the occasional cough from you and the sounds of nature and other mutants about. You wish you could have experienced this sooner. Before your world decided to crash down on you. You’ll just have to enjoy the time with him like this while you can. Before the feelings you have for him are forever torn away. Leaving only a hollow space in your chest for the fellow mutant. 

You’re not ready. 

~~ :3 !! ~~

Hank Mccoy finally let you know he was ready to do the surgery a few days after your chat with Logan. You weren’t ready for it. You didn’t want to lose these feelings, you didn’t want the complications that may follow, but fuck you don’t want to die either. You will die if you don’t do this surgery. You can’t… You have to do this. 

Which is why you are outside of the room Logan usually occupies when he is in the mansion. You've been standing outside of his room for what felt like hours now. You knew he probably could hear your heartbeat, but he isn’t coming out. He asked to be there when you got the surgery. He wanted to support you for some reason. You could just go, leave and get the surgery without telling him. Your anxiety welling up along with the urge to throw up. Your hand is already raised before you could stop yourself and you knock three times.

Silence follows after. The sound of shuffling and the door opens. Logan standing there in one of those slutty little white tank tops and jeans. A classic look that was all too hot in your opinion. Your mouth feels dry as he looks at you.

“I’m getting it now.” You rub your arm, unable to look him in the eyes. You do look at his face though. Just long enough to see shock cross his face for a few seconds, which quickly vanished back behind his usual look. Logan steps out of his room and shuts the door, head tilting to the side a bit as he waits for you to start walking to Hank’s lab. 

The two of you walk silently through the halls. It was late in the afternoon. You could have gotten it earlier in the day but your body was so exhausted from the coughing fit you had that night that you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of bed. In fact you’re still in your pajamas mostly. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. Comfy. You’re going into surgery, you deserve not to dress up for it. Logan doesn’t comment on it either so it’s fine. You’re fine. 

Everything is fine.

The two of you enter the lab quietly. No one else seems to be here but Hank. After all, one else knew. People knew you were sick of course, but you kept a tight lip on what exactly was inflicting you.

Hank greets you with your name. A look of surprise as his eyes drop onto Logan. Quickly he glanced back at you and you just shrugged your shoulders slightly. Letting Hank know the situation. How Logan knew what was wrong with you and wanted to be here with you. Moral support from the emotionally constipated x-men. Well, mostly constipated. 

After going over the procedures and what needed to be done you step behind the curtains, changing into one of those flimsy hospital gowns. The cool air nipping at your skin as you bite your bottom lip. You were scared. You didn’t want this. You couldn’t do this. You can’t do this! You don’t want to lose your feelings for Logan. He just now is starting to show you attention. It’s not fair! You shouldn’t have to deal with this! You can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t, you can’t. 

“Are you okay?” Hank's voice cuts through your spiral. Eyes watering and your chest heaving. Ohm you were crying. No, you were sobbing again. Your hands are shaking at your side. You glance at the curtain that hid you from the other two. You know they heard you crying, heard you falling apart. How embarrassing. Your hand grips at the gown, bunching it up at your chest as you take a shaky breath. Lungs barely able to hold a full inhale. 

“Yeah… Yeah sorry. I’m ok. I’m ready.” You step out from behind the curtain. Clear concern was on the blue mutant's face. You can’t read the others. You don’t like this. You silently pad over to the table, bed, whatever it is, that is set up for you. Another strained breathe and you sit on the surface. A glance at the two of them and you lay back. You’re surprised the professor wasn’t here to help out. Maybe he wasn’t needed. Hank could handle this on his own. You can handle this. Logan was here, you didn’t want him here, but it was a strange comfort knowing the man you loved was here to support you. Even if said surgery would remove all feelings for him. How poetic. 

You stare at the ceiling, unsure of what to do as Hank moves around you. Logan who had been leaning on the wall walks over and takes your hand in his. Holding it as if you would shatter at the softest of touches. You hate it. 

“Offer still stands darlin’. Can make the guy love you back.” Although the words would work well in a teasing tone. There was a hint of seriousness behind it. Like he didn’t want you to go under. To have the gardenias removed from your chest. Your hand squeezes his weakly. You knew you didn’t have much time left. You had to do this or confess. Only one of those was an actual option.

Hank returns and holds up the mask. You lift your head up as he slides it over your mouth and nose. It’s too late. You can feel the tears threatening to fall again. You’re scared. Your grip on Logan’s hand tightens as Hank moves around you, making sure you’re hooked up correctly. Your vision starts to blur slightly. You try to inhale the gas as deeply as you could, it hurt. Your lungs didn’t want to fill, you think you can feel the roots wiggling deeper through your lungs and closer to your heart. Your eyes are on Logan, fear clearly radiating off of you. Your own eyes showing the anxiety inside of you. Logan just stands strong next to you. Like a silent guard. 

As the world starts to blacken around you, the corners of the room vanishing slowly. You couldn’t help yourself. You were getting the surgery. You can say the words now. It won’t matter. Your head was already floating and consciousness was fading. Eyes focusing on Logan, like a tunnel. All you could see was him as the world around you slowly vanished into nothingness.   Three words slipped out of you without much thought.

“I love you.” 

The world shifts and the world goes dark. 

The quiet beeping echos. A steady rhythm that matches the slight pounding in your head. Your eyes slowly open, only to quickly shut again. The lights were a bit too bright and everything was… Numb. Your mouth feels dry and you physically can’t feel anything. Did the surgery go wrong? Why can’t you feel anything? A groan bubbles up from your throat as you force your eyes to open. That’s when you feel it.

You can feel every muscle, every fiber of the blanket covering you. The heaviness in your chest is gone. You take a breath. You can… You can take a breath. Your lungs are fully filled with oxygen. Chest rising higher than it has in months. You can breathe. Your eyes open again, the bright fluorescent lights above you illuminate the room. You tilt your head away from looking up at the ceiling. Eyes moving around the room. Gaze falling on the little monitor you’re hooked up to. The beeping was your heartbeat. Ok. That looked good. 

Your head turns the other direction as you take in another sweet deep breath. Eyes landing on Logan. He was still here, sitting beside your bed, head lolled to the side clearly asleep. Your chest tightens in the familiar feeling you have been dealing with for months. That can’t be right. You shouldn’t still be feeling this longing. You shouldn’t still be feeling the warmth that spreads through you over the fact that he had stayed. You shouldn’t be feeling the soft tug on your heart as you look at him or the soft smile pulling on your lips.

This was wrong. Something was wrong. You raise the arm that wasn’t hooked up to all the devices and set it on your chest. There was pain there, raw and uncomfortable, but there was no bump on your chest to show there was a bandage, no pain pulling at your skin. The pain you felt was all under your skin. This isn’t right, something is wrong. Your chest felt clear but you have no evidence that you underwent the surgery. You force yourself to sit up. Pain shoots down your spine. You groaned in pain and a hand was suddenly pressing down on your shoulder. Forcing you back onto the bed. Logan had gotten up.

“Logan?” Your voice was scratchy. It felt just like the times you coughed up all those flowers when he found out. “What… What’s going on? Why do I…” 

“Yeah it’s me. Lay back down. Can’t have you moving around too much yet.” Logan’s hand was still on your shoulder, a gentle pressure making you lay back down onto the bed. Your eyebrows furrowing in confusion at the look he is giving you. You can’t read him. “Don’t talk too much either. Hank said you got to heal.”

Yet you’re pretty sure you didn’t get the surgery though! You should be dead. You… You told Logan how you felt. How you still feel. Yet the urge to cough is gone. Your chest feeling lighter than it has since before the disease took its hold on your life. That has to mean something. Something happened when you went under. What happened? Why won’t he tell you? Why is he looking at you like that? 

Logan’s hand finally pulled away from your shoulder. He just stares down at you as you stare at him. Silence falls between you two. His hand then slowly moves again. Your eyes darting down to the hand. Slowly his hand goes to push some hair out of your face. The same look he has been giving you for the past few months crosses his face. You still don’t know what it means, but it is making your stomach flip. 

“Glad you didn’t die for a guy like me. World be a lot darker without you in it.” His hand gently cups your cheek, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. His hand was soft and warm. The touch a bit too tender for someone like him.

Wait. Wait wait wait. He heard you. He heard what you said before going under. You didn’t go through the surgery yet your chest feels lighter than it should. That could only mean one thing. Your eyes go wide in surprise and your lips part as you go to speak. Pain still itching at your throat.

“You heard me…” Of course he heard you! He was right next to you holding your hand. He has enhanced senses. He heard you confess. He heard you say you loved him. You’re still alive, you still feel for him and you confessed! That has to mean. Your face suddenly lights up. Heat pooling both on your cheeks and in your stomach. There is only one explanation. There is only one way you were able to live and still feel this way. Logan loved you back. That doesn’t make sense though! Before you started smelling like flowers the two of you never spoke to one another. Yet he…

He loved you back.

“Yeah, I did. Could have told me sooner to save you the pain. Told ya I’d make sure the guy felt the same.” His hand leaves your face. He turns to grab the chair he had been sitting in before and pulls it over. The chair legs screeching across the floor making you flinch at the noise. Once the chair was next to you he sat down and took your hand in his again. Once more treating you like glass. Though you appreciate it, you feel like glass right now. 

Logan lifts your hand up to his face, blue eyes staring straight into your own as his lips find your knuckles. Leaving a soft kiss. You were already blushing before, but you swear you feel like you’re on fire. His lips brushing against your knuckles as he speaks once more. You really aren’t used to hearing him speak so much. “Looks like we got a lot to talk about sweetheart.”

You just silently nod, unable to break your gaze from his. Your hand is lowered, your heart beating out of your chest. You are sure he can hear it. You lick your lips, unable to speak a word out of fear you’ll embarrass yourself further. Logan just chuckles slightly, a deep reverberating one. 

“Guess I should say it, not really good with the emotions shit, but I love you too.”

A few blinks and then a small laugh comes out of you. A wince follows after, but the biggest grin spreads on your face. All it took was you almost dying to finally hear those three little words. You’ll never look at gardenias the same again, nor will you be able to stand the sickly sweet smell of a strong floral scent. That doesn’t matter to you though. You obtained something you thought was unattainable. The love of the man you were in love with. The secret love no longer hidden. 

You can now understand the look Logan was giving you. It was the same you had been giving him. You both were in love with each other but were unsure how to go about it. All it took was the flowers that no longer were growing inside of you. 

You finally say the words, more confident than when you went under. “I love you.” 

“Love you too sweetheart.” 

[11rosebunny]

Hi!! How are you:)? I hope you're doing okay! Can i request wind breaker boys (BOFURIN) with a crush that is super sweet (the sweetest in the town) who's also shy? + super oblivious and stupid when the topic is about romance? :3?

Character with dense!reader (BOFURIN)

Haruka Sakura

Whenever you would say fairly stupid things, you didn't understand why he would get all red and quiet out of nowhere. He is aware of your air-headed skull and tries to help you exist in general, but when you're saying things about how cute he is, you end up standing there with question marks clouding your head when he starts to childishly insult you.

He always claims it's a drag whenever he has to look out for you in case you end up setting a car on fire, but something that he was able to figure out is the only time you end up getting embarrassed is if romance is ever brought up.

The little moments when you realize the space between you and him is closing up a little too fast for your liking makes you start stuttering, asking him what he wants, and the way your eyes flicker everywhere in the room made him surprise that you were equally as awkward as him. He doesn't take advantage of the fact that when you're shy, but there is a part of him where he finds that side of you to be cute.

Hajime Umemiya

He thinks you're adorable.

The first time he met you, he didn't actually think you were serious about your rambles whenever you opened your mouth and said something diabolical and went about your day. However, when he realized it wasn't a joke, it took him a few days to understand that everything you've said, you meant it with 100% honesty.

You never understand any hints that people drop, and he is usually the one to break it down for you; otherwise, if it was another person, they may or may not have mauled you in the face for having to repeat themselves four times already. Hajime knows how to be patient, and it's very rare where he gets upset at your stupidity.

Aside from looking out for you, one thing that intrigues him is the way your behavior only changes when you find yourself trapped in a heated situation. It was a complete accident when he made you blush the first time; he was keeping you close to his body in a secluded area and told you to keep quiet. The moment he released you, he was shocked to see how you couldn't look him in the eye, the way your body grew hotter, and the way you refrained from speaking for a specific amount of time.

He found it odd that you got shy around him if all people. He doesn't try to make anyone nervous by any means, but the way you looked and the way you fell apart in his hands, he thinks about that from time to time and has intrusive thoughts to see you like that again.

Toma Hiragi

He wants to kill you. The majority of his time spent with you, he does enjoy your presence with him and the way you make him feel whenever you're spending time with each other. Despite those times, the other half spent is him growing white hairs because of your irrational decision making.

He doesn't mind seeing you mess up every once in a while; sometimes, he does that on purpose so you end up learning from your mistakes and afterwards helps you.

He still jokes around and treats you almost the same way he treats his closest friends (Umemiya), but even so, he has to set limitations to you because you somehow ended up being denser than his best friend.

It took him a while to notice that the only time your mood would shift was whenever something made you shy. He didn't notice it due to it mostly being out in public together, and he ends up rushing you to hurry up and follow him. But one day, when you went over to his house for the first time and you watched him take off his leather jacket revealing his well-defined back, began to remove his silver rings and lazily place them down on his desk, and cracked his neck to scavenge through his drawers to find you a shirt to wear somehow made you grow nervous.

You sat on your bed awkwardly watching him reach out one of his shirts that seemed way too oversized for your body, and when he called out your name, he noticed the way you jumped at him with wide eyes and blush covering your cheeks. He was a bit curious as to why you were so on edge all of a sudden until he came to terms it was generally because of him.

He kept it a secret from you that he knew he could make you nervous, and since then, he's sometimes used that as an advantage to make you listen to him...

Mitsuki Kiryu

A terrible influence. It's not that he influences you to take life risks, but he does influence you to continue with your stupid decision-making. He purely does it for a part of his entertainment but will also go out of his way if he thinks it's a bit too far and dangerous.

He's found mobile games as an outlet to put his boredom, however once he found you, there was a slight decrease in his screentime when you two started to grow close. Eventually, his screentime lowered drastically when you became the closest person in his life.

He wasn't aware of a specific trait of yours of growing shy whenever romance popped up. You two left a fast-food restaurant after grabbing a quick bite and walked down the street with drinks in your hand as you continued talking with him. After walking for a bit, two unfamiliar girls came up to the both of you and asked for his number.

During that moment, you stood there awkwardly as you watched him blink at the two girls you didn't recognize. If you were being honest, a tint of an unknown feeling lingered in your gut when you saw him smile at them. However, before giving him his number, he shot a glance at you making you widen your eyes when he caught you staring. You immediately looked away and even twisted your body slightly, moved away from him. In that moment, he couldn't care less about those girls in front of him because as soon as he saw you change moods for the first time, he worried if he had upset you.

Afterward, he understands that you were just shy since you weren't very fond of romance, but when he gains that piece of information about you, he doesn't know if he should abuse that power or not to see if you'd crumble in his hands if he ever made a move on you.

Hayato Suo

Surprisingly, he handles you very well. Hayato is known to look out for others while maintaining a devious side of his that he likes to reveal every once in a while (or more than). He oddly knows how to handle chaotic people better, rather than nonchalant individuals.

He genuinely enjoys spending time with you, even if you'd probably end up going to jail one way or another, he still steps in for you whenever you go a little too far. If it weren't for him, you'd probably be homeless living under a cardboard box.

He lets you do whatever you please, but he will stop you the moment he senses something will go wrong, even before you think of that decision. He somehow can pinpoint the things you think before you get to say them.

He doesn't exactly know you get shy whenever something romantic comes up until you ended up watching a romance film with him at his house. He invited you over for a hangout, and you two decided to watch a Chinese drama because he wanted to learn the language better by not reading the Japanese subtitles. He ended up putting it on anyway so you could at least enjoy the movie too.

It was late at night, and he noticed after thirty minutes into the movie, you stopped speaking and eventually grew quiet. Something he wasn't used to. So when he takes a glance at what you're doing, he scans the way your face almost seemed lost and sweaty, and the way your breathing went rugged, making your chest fall up and down quicker than usual. He paused the movie and asked if you were okay and turned on the switch when he noticed you were even redder in better lighting.

Ever since then, he's quickly learned that your mood only changed if something falls into the category of romance. He doesn't go out of his way to embarrass you over that, but he does keep it in mind and he's found out he can use that tactic as a way to get you to listen to him better.

[heroesfixated]

50/50 Heroes Theory - Something Dark Is Coming

Following these posts I made, I would like to present a theory of mine as to what is going on here. This show is so soft, cute and funny, that it's hard to believe at first that something sinister is happening in the background. I will attempt to shed some light on it.

All of the following is just my theory based on evidence found in the episodes. It could be completely wrong, so take it with a grain of salt.

I don't think I need to defend this point too much, but still, let me present this case with the clearest image of this mystery person I could find:

The head shape, the blue hair, the cap... The resemblance is hard to deny - it has to be Mo. Most probably, Mo from the future, traveling back in time, as the figure seems to be a little older.

Another piece of evidence we can look at to confirm this: the mysterious person's appearance in Episode 25A, when Mo and Sam traveled back in time 10 whole years:

Something like this can be possible IF that person is also a time traveler.

Now that we've established that it's Future Mo, another question arises: why? What could've happened that made him go back, and seemingly without his sister?

(Let's ignore that backpack he's carrying for now and the ominous hair sticking out of it...)

Well, for that, let us look at WHO he seems to be following exactly, as that's not as black and white as it seems either.

Out of 50 11-minute episodes and a 22-minute finale, so far, I was able to find exactly 40 instances of Future Mo following our main characters. If we break it down, we will see that 13 of those times, he have been seen following both Mo and Sam together. 1 time it has been just Mo (Episode 1B, when Sam teleported away just a moment ago) and 1 time when Mo was stuck in Sam's body (Episode 7A). As for scenes with just Sam, without Mo around... This character was spotted 25 times. This is not a coincidence.

Another piece of evidence is presented in this sneaky screenshot of the school vents from Epsidoe 9B. If you look closely, you can see a full bag of chips, a picture of Sam with some illegible writing and an arrow pointing at her, and a picture/poster of Mo and Sam's apartment building. That points to someone, most probably our mystery character in question, staying in this school vent.

And following Sam specifically.

With these assumptions, that it's Future Mo following Sam, we can only assume that something has happened to her and Mo is back to try and fix things, and get his sister back. As to what happened exactly, not much evidence can be found. Except for the only time we get to see his perspective as he is spying on our character in the finale:

(click for better quality)

It is interesting that we get to see his POV in this scene specifically out of the entire show and finale, as if we were meant to draw our attention to it. This scene is about Mo getting too cocky and fame-crazy, while Sam is voicing her frustrations with him and wishing to go do something good, like an actual hero would. It follows them fighting and almost separating.

This suggests that perhaps, this scene is important to our mystery character. Perhaps something similar has happened, a big fight between siblings that led to... all this.

Putting all of the evidence into one cohesive theory, we get the following:

At some point, a big fight between the siblings occurs, leading to something terrible happening to Sam, possibly due to the scepter freaking out, for which Mo could be directly or indirectly responsible. Devastated and determined to get his sister back, Mo goes back in time to stop the accident from happening, only to go back too soon. Now he spends his days following Sam out of guilt and the wish to protect her, while living in the school ventilation shafts, waiting for the day he can fix his mistake and be with her once again.

This is just part of the theory, as I didn't tackle everything (for example, the eye-question mark symbol on his hand, or the very suspicious blue hair poof sticking out of his backpack) but this is my starting point. However, the only thing that can truly shed light on this mystery is season 2 of this wonderful show, which I wholeheartedly hope will happen someday.

[woodsfae]

B5 S03E22 Z'Ha'Dum previous episode - table of contents

Flashback central - Anna talking about signing onto the Icarus. Kosh saying "Z'Ha'Dum," Delenn and Sheridan talking about the Icarus landing on Z'Ha'Dum, Morden being a dickbag. 

Anna doesn't seem very sincere, and I don't buy her "I'm an open book, but DELENN didn't tell you...no, I shan't say..." schtick. 

I know I made all those predictions about how this will play out, but I really don't know how this is going to play out. Will the future be subverted and the prophecies less than self-fulfilling? I don't know! 

Partner: "Do you think these guys did like, late-night interviews in the 90s or was it not popular enough?" Me: "Hm let me consult my extensive memories of being 0-6 years old in an anti-technology cult in the 1990s." 

Anna: "I'm your wife." Dr Franklin: "That's your wife." Sheridan: "If that's my wife, then what was all my years of grief-processing for?" 

Excuse me Sheridan, take your hands off Delenn. Don't shake her just because you're emotionally overwrought. 

I am on Delenn's side in this argument. Delenn said clearly that anyone who wouldn't have served the Shadows would have been killed. Therefore, Anna was either dead, or completely opposed to the life and wellbeing of every living thing in the galaxy. 

yeah yeah Sheridan, you have big emotions. But don't be a dick.

Londo's political maneuvering has resulted in a promotion and he's bummed because he can't be satisfied with anything. He's a voracious pit of longing that can never be filled. When he's made an ambassador, he rages because they're sending him away. When he's given a prestigious advisor position, he's mad because he deserved it twenty years ago. 

Mr Morden Jr is here. Sounds like there's about to be an attack on B5. 

Looks like Dr Franklin just found something in his scans on Anna Sheridan. 

Anna is refusing to answer any questions about anything unless John goes with her to Z'Ha'Dum to hear the answers there. Not even why she stayed and let herself be declared dead and all her loved ones grieve her death. 

Aaaan he agrees to go to Z'Ha'Dum if she explains why she stayed. Against future!Delenn's pleas. 

Anna says - IPX found a Shadows ship buried under the surface of Mars. As soon as they unearthed it, it sent a message. IPX took some parts and put a homing device inside. When another ship turned up and took the first one, they tracked it. (didn't the second ship also kill a fuckload of people? She doesn't mention anything about that.)

The Icarus went to the coordinates and found the Shadows. In a pit. Very foreboding. She says it was an accident that the crew was killed, and also destroyed the comm system. She says they portrayed themselves as vunerable coming out of hibernation and cut a deal that they could stay and study their tech if they didn't try to contact their homeworld(s). 

It would be a cool plot twist if Anna was telling the truth and he really was about to find out he's been on the wrong side this entire time. However, I don't think that's the case. The Shadows haven't been taking out governmental heads, they've been displacing populations, causing genocides, anmd spreading suffering. 

I do wonder what this secret task he's given Garibaldi is. 

It's incredibly foolish to run off to the ACTUAL HOMEWORLD of your mortal enemies. But there goes John Sheridan! trot trot. Well, they did hit him where he's most vulnerable. The wound of losing a loved one never really goes away. 

They're taking the White Star - what a fucking security vulnerability! Also, so funny that Sheridan is taking the White Star when he's only SEEN the Minbari pilot it. Aviation law must have gotten lax in the future. 

Z'Ha'Dum doesn't have a breathable atmosphere. He goes off, alone, with his formerly-dead wife. To the enemy's planet. With no breathable atmosphere. And just nods and hands over his gun. And doesn't even keep his oxygen mask at hand! 

Dummy.

And Morden's here. AND Anna gives HIM John's gun! goddddddddddd

Poor Delenn, she looks wrecked. John's message to her talks about his time jump and Delenn's plea to not go to Z'Ha'Dum. He says he went because maybe in that future, he listened to her and DIDN'T go, so he's going in case it changes the future. 

Well. 

ok

Justin on Z'Ha'Dum says that most of the higher races left this part of the universe, and the Vorlons stuck around to be parents. Clean your room, behave, etc. The Shadows, though, want to release their potentials...through conflict. "Those who survive are strong, better," Justin says. And Morden says if you knock over an anthill, the future generations get better at building anthills. 

hm. 

"...but I love my mom and dad," - noted parents-guy John Sheridan, hopefully. 

"A few get lost along the way," Justin says. Yeah. Like the Narn got directly targeted and attacked repeatedly until they lost their telepaths, then almost lost everything? Literally they were T A R G E T E D. It isn't a neutral "they got lost," they were pummeled into near-oblivion. 

Oop, the Shadows have arrived at B5. 

Morden would have us believe that sonnets came from wars. Bullshit - sonnets came from the Italian courtly style and was developed in order to flirt better.  (per Partner's masters of poetry)

Ahhh, the Shadows are hanging out over B5 as the hammer over Sheridan's head. Sheridan's too good at diplomacy, so he's preventing the species' growth through warfare. boooooo.

I could go through and rebut the things they're saying point by point but ehhh. It's a lot. But it's 99% bullshit and 1% mispresented.

Sheridan drops a bomb: Anna has been altered in the same way as the people who were being sent to become components in the Shadows ships. 

Whoop, Shadow incoming. And gun incoming! John Sheridan had TWO GUNS. badadadada

oof, poor Sheridan. He's arming the White Star to detonate, and Anna's turned up saying that Anna is dead, but she can love John as well as Anna ever did. 

"I want you to know that I love you, Delenn. Bye." he says, in the video message. 

And there's the Kosh fragment! Sheridan jumps into the pit of doom in the center of Z'Ha Dum as the White Star bursts through the central dome. 

Anna didn't like that!

Kosh said he couldn't help Sheridan if he helped then. And then he helped anyway. lol

I like the G'Kar voice-over. Andreas has such a marvelous voice and he really knows how to use it. 

One of the fighters is missing - piloted by Garibaldi! And the marvelous CGI depicts it floating in a Shadows ship. Well. At least we won't run out of plot anytime soon. :P

season 4 awaits!

[witchthewriter]

𝐁𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐌𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐚 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!    

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ      

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・You had all realised how much you liked spending time together, even if it was doing your duties

・The banter was top-notch; constantly teasing each other, laughing and ultimately making life a little brighter

・On the long watches with Rosita, you learned a lot about her. How she didn’t like certain foods, especially canned, bland food (which was practically all you guys ate). Her favourite animals and favourite colour. 

・Your original impression was that Rosita was a stone-cold bitch. And ... that was somewhat true, but you now knew her as a loveable stone-cold bitch. 

・Michonne had so much responsibility on her shoulders that she actively sought you two out for some relief. You were always able to brighten her day. 

・Rosita had a lot of insight for Michonne, and it helped her decision making

・You didn’t think anything of the relationship - the three of you saw it as a friendship

・But it wasn’t until Eugene asked if the three of you were romantically involved, that you started to see Rosita and Michonne differently

・Neither woman is super cuddly, but that doesn’t mean there isn’t any affection in your relationship. Michonne likes her face to be held in her hands, a thumb gently rubbing her cheek. Rosita loves to be hugged from behind, she rests her head back against your shoulder. 

・Rosita gets the most jealous. She doesn’t like when someone looks at either you or Michonne for too long. Whether that’s in a romantic way - or to size you up. She’ll be right by your side, ready to jump in and kick that person’s ass

・Michonne is very organised, she knows where important things are; hidden weapons, extra clothes, snacks, keys etc. While Rosita can find things in her messy chaos

・Wearing each other’s clothes or accessories: 

    “Hey, is that my- oh, okay. It looks much better on you.”

・You were the first one to say “I love you,” Michonne was the second and Rosita was last

・Everyone sees you three as this power trio. Not to be f*cked with - no one talks about you guys behind your backs. That’s how intimidating you three are. 

・Although you three are daunting, women and children feel incredibly safe with any of you. And this isn’t a coincidence or by accident 

・All three of you understand the troubles and dangers that women and girls experience. So you all make sure that respect and safety are priorities. If anyone makes them uncomfortable, you guys come down like a hammer. Your community is a safe haven, and that means safe for every single person. 

・You guys go on feminine hygiene runs - pads, tampons etc. One time you actually hit the jackpot and found a bunch of period underwear, diva cups, baby wipes, and nappies (both baby and adult). 

・In addition, on your runs you try and find birth control - condoms, the pill, and other medication (anti-depressants, anti-anxiety etc) 

・Rosita likes when you play with her hair; massaging her scalp, twirling her hair around your fingers, braiding and plaiting. 

・Michonne only ever lets you and Rosita see her cry

・On runs you try and find jewellery for Rosita and Michonne. Because those stores were forgotten about - they didn’t have anything important for an apocalypse, you were able to find pieces that relate to the women:

You see them as gold rather than silver. However, Michonne would be white gold. 

Rosita is garnet, ruby, and diamond

While Michonne is sapphire, jade and emerald

・They both showed you how to use their weapons and vice versa

・During fights, the three of you usually fight back to back 

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈:

The Train by James Newton Howard

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔:

・Soldier (Rosita) x Poet (You) x King (Michonne)

・Look At Us Wrong And We’ll Kill You x3

・Sun (Rosita) x Moon (Michonne) x Eclipse (You)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆:

Romance During An Apocolypse

𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾 🔞minors dni!

・Rosita loves being dominated. She’s a dominant person in her day-to-day life, so when it comes to sexual desires, she wants to be told what to do

・Michonne is a switch, but on certain nights she’s the best dominatrix 

・You’re a switch, both happy to be dominated or to dominate 

・There aren’t a lot of places to get lingerie or sex toys, so you all have to improvise and be creative. So this one time, Rosita found a big red shirt and cut it very short, and at the hemline, she ripped it so her cleavage was on display. 

・It drove both you and Michonne crazy, because she wasn’t wearing anything else but that

・Michonne likes to tie you both up and tease you relentlessly. Slowly touching your body parts

・You like to have both of them on their knees, begging for you

[amethystunarmed]

Nobody Should Ever Lose Their Place in the World

Word Count: 2436 AO3 Written for @pulpmusicalsfortnight2024 Day 5: Modern AU. Huge thank you to my beta @faery-people-of-the-future-day!

The first time Anna finds her, it's by accident. 

She is scouring through the database of Observatory Technology and Satellite Services, a subdivision of the infamous Herschel Corporation. It has been weeks of Anna trying to break into their servers, months since the announcement of their new wireless internet system, and today is the first day she has made any progress at all. She actually got in.

It had been practically effortless. Anna doesn't know what allowed her lucky break but she is grateful for it.

Doesn't mean her job is easy now. The files are convoluted, dozens of project names that mean nothing to her. But she only needs one. 

The Bright Future Initiative.

Her Sagitta. 

Still, she is going in the back way, and mostly flying by the seat of her pants. She isn't sure how to search through the files like this; her skills lie more in engineering than hacking. But she needs to find it, needs to get to her-

Her screen suddenly freezes. Anna clicks furiously, but her mouse doesn't respond. No. No, it's not fair. She can't have been kicked out. She hasn't found it yet.

Frustrated tears well in her eyes as she curses at the screen. Just as she is about to restart her computer, brilliant cyan text appears in the code she was searching through.

//error: Designation?

Anna... Anna has no idea how to respond to that. She stares at the screen, frantically trying to come up with some kind of lie Observatory Tech’s IT would find believable when-

//error: Hello? I know you're there. I would like to know just who is interrupting my operation. This is the Traveler speaking.

And that is the moment Anna puts it together. The reason it had been so easy to break through Observatory Tech's firewall today.

Someone had already done it.

Fuck. Fuck.

Okay, okay, she needs a designation. A hacker moniker? Does she ever deserve one of those? Anything but her real name, what could she-

And suddenly, it hits her like a flash, from one of her first Discord messages with John.

Well, if you're going to call me Herschy, I'm going to call you-

She types the name in, not even surprised her keyboard works again. 

You: Nova. I'm Nova.

There is a pause, and the other person types back.

//error: You come up with that just now?

Even though the other person can’t see it, Anna fights to hide a blush.

You: Is it that obvious?

//error: Your work is... heavy-handed, to say the least.

Did they really need to type the ellipses? Anna gets the picture.

//error: And the fact you didn’t immediately log off when I introduced myself really says you don’t know what you are getting into.

Anna frowns. Who on Earth could be so arrogant?

You: You really think every person knows who you are?

//error: Any hacker who knows their way around a keyboard would. You probably do too, little star. Ever heard of the Blazing World Coalition?

Anna’s eyes widen. She has. They are a group of self-identified white hat hackers, the closest thing the modern day has to a real Robin Hood. Just a few months ago, they had completely bankrupted the Itzal Financial Group after they shorted their own employees’ pensions in order to make millions. Not long about that, the BWC had been declared a terrorist group by the United States government.

Anna was chatting with Public Enemy Number 1.

You: Oh.

She isn’t sure why she types it. She just doesn’t know what else to do. 

//error: (✿◠‿◠) I see my reputation precedes me. //error: So do us both a favor and log. Off.

Anna should. She knows she should. She should log off and forget this whole thing, because she is suddenly in so incredibly far over her head.

But she remembers the grin on William Herschel’s face as he debuted her tech. The awe in the newscaster’s voice when he talked about the Satellite that was going to change the world. 

Her Satellite.

You: I’m sorry. I can’t.

//error: That wasn’t a request, little star. And I won’t ask nicely again. You should leave before you burn out.

Anna’s palms sweat. The keys feel damp under her fingers.

You: I can’t, there is something I need. I won’t get in your way, I don’t want money or anything like that. But I can’t leave just yet.

There is another long, long pause after that. Beneath the post-it note she has over her camera, a glowing red light turns on. Anna screams, and then covers her mouth. She still can’t fully mask her frantic gasping because-

They turned on her camera.

//error: ( ͡ ͜ʖ ͡°) You have such a gorgeous scream, little star. Shame I can’t see you. Though there are plenty of other cameras to look through... do you think you can cover them all? (´･ω･`)? 

No. She doesn’t think she can.

//error: There is a lot I can do with a face. You think this is scary, wait until I release all your naughty little secrets to the public. I am sure the authorities would love to hear about your new hobby. So do us both a favor and log off now. I won’t ask again. ヾ(￣▽￣) Bye~Bye~

Anna’s heart is pounding in her ears. All she can hear is the blood rushing through her veins at what feels like 100 miles per hour. She wonders if the Traveler can hear it through the microphone.

But she can’t give up. She knows now she won’t get another opportunity, not if they improve security after this attack; she could barely manage the security before. If they beef it up, she will have no chance. 

The Traveler has made this her last chance to regain control of the Sagitta. Anna can’t bear to waste it.

You: I can’t. Please. Please let me do this.

Another pause. Anna waits for the sound of sirens or maybe for her oven to explode, but all remains quiet. The red light on her laptop clicks off. 

//error: What could possibly be so important you would risk your entire identity just to see this through?

Anna hesitates. A group like the Blazing World with her Satellite, able to connect to the internet from anywhere on a grid where no one else would be able to track them... They would have the power to do anything they wanted if they took it over.

But they help people. All the employees who had lost their life savings when Itzal Financial shorted them? The day after the BWC’s attack, they woke up with bank accounts doubled or tripled what they had been before, with air tight records listing the funds as severance. Even when Itzal Financial had gone to court, there had been no case. No proof. Just over a thousand struggling people were suddenly able to enjoy life again.

They are her only shot now. 

You: Do you know about the Bright Future Initiative?

Anna may ask the question, but she already knows the answer. It's all anyone spoke about for weeks after the announcement.

//error: Herschel's new project? Where he boosted the internet for his companies from a satellite?

A Satellite. A. The dismissal makes her bristle. Her correction is swift and formal, showing none of the indignation thrumming through her.

You: My Satellite. He stole my tech and this is my last chance to get it back.

That agonizing silence returns as Anna waits for a reply. She isn't sure the Traveler will believe her, they have no reason to. 

All Anna can do is wait and hope. The Traveler's words appear slowly, line by line, as though they are trying to convince Anna.

//error: William Herschel has hurt many people. //error: I am sorry that you are among them. //error: But there is something big going on and many innocent people are going to continue being hurt if you don't let me finish here.

You: I'm not trying to stop you! If you let me do what I need to, I will stay out of your hair.

Another pause. 

//error: Nova... You don't know what you are doing. I found you because you tripped a security measure. I caught it and stopped it, but eventually you will get us both caught.

Anna feels those words flay her like knives. They scoop out her heart and leave her only with welling despair in her chest. Even if she had managed to break through the firewall, even if she had done it all on her own with no interference... 

Anna never would have gotten the Sagitta back. 

She is glad The Traveler disconnected from her camera. She isn't fully able to hold back the sob that wells in her and it would have been incredibly embarrassing if they heard.

She is quiet too long. Another message pops up.

//error: Too many lives are at risk. I hope you can understand that.

Anna's next words are petty. Petulant. Probably even childish. But she means every one.

You: But it's fine if he ruins my life? The lives of all the people my Satellite could help? You could help me and you're choosing not to. Doesn't that mean anything?

Anna knows just how powerful free internet, free communication can be. Her father would still be alive if he'd had it. They’d been alone in the middle of the ocean, with no way to make connection as his damaged ship drifted aimlessly, powerless. Dead in the water. The doctors say Anna only survived long enough to be rescued due to the rations he sacrificed to give to her. If they had only been able to signal for help...

It doesn’t matter. What does matter is that every day, Anna lives for him. She has to get this satellite back. 

Another long pause, long enough that Anna is left feeling tightly wound. She is waiting for a paragraph, a long explanation she can refute or build off of. The mere sentence she gets back stabs straight through her.

//error: I truly am sorry Nova.

Anna doesn't doubt it. She can feel the pity seeping through the keys like syrup, cloying on her tongue. And it makes the despair inside her burn, igniting the helplessness and eating away at her welling tears until there is nothing left but rage.

You: Traveler, can you promise me something? //error: Only once I hear the terms, little star. //error: But I will try. You: Make him suffer. If you can't help me, at least do that.

This time the response is immediate. 

//error: With pleasure. ദ്ദി ˉ͈̀꒳ˉ͈́ )✧

Before Anna can even contemplate a reply, another message pops up.

//error: Get some rest, Nova. /ᐠ - ˕ -マᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 //error: Things will look better in the morning.

The chat closes and Anna finds herself booted out of the program entirely. The Traveler could have removed her whenever they liked. They were just being polite.

What else were they capable of?

Anna turns her computer off and unplugs it for good measure. She knows it won't help. She has very little doubt the Traveler could log into her phone or tablet or even her microwave just as easily as they did her computer. But it makes her feel better, nonetheless.

She tries to message John. He sends back one apologetic about a family emergency and goes silent for the rest of the evening. She puts her phone on Do Not Disturb. It's not like anyone is going to be reaching out to her.

Anna is once again, alone.

She curls up in her bed and cries for longer than she would like to admit. Her grant was pulled after her prototype went missing at her University's Expo. The school themselves said the theft was disheartening but there was nothing they could do.

Not for the first time, Anna wonders how much of William Herschel's money lines their pockets. 

It's over. Her satellite hangs in the sky, bastardized out of all it is supposed to be. 

I'm so sorry, Father, she pleads, hoping his ghost will have mercy on her. Our dream dies here. She clutches her pillow and watches as light slowly comes in the window. 

Around seven, she gives up on sleep entirely.

When she enters her living room, the first thing she does is turn on the news. This is not her habit. In fact, this is the last thing she wants to be doing. She typically avoids the news, getting only the most urgent alerts from an app on her phone. But today, she wants to see what state the Blazing World Coalition left Observatory Tech in. After Itzal Financial was hacked, it was in the news for months. 

And there's nothing. Not a single mention of the company falling apart. Anna opens her phone to google the company and-

Emails, calls, text messages. Congratulations from old professors, job offers, interview requests. One text from her bank informs her of a deposit with more zeros than seems possible.

And at the beginning of it all, received at 6:13 am, is an email with a blinding cyan subject line.

Hello Little Star!

Anna opens it without hesitation. If the Traveler wanted to steal her information, she would have done it by now. 

You have truly abysmal protections in place, Nova. I was able to get this email in practically no time at all! You'll need far more practice if you hope to continue these endeavors. As I'm sure you may have heard, this morning William Herschel revealed the true genius behind the Brighter Future Initiative and relinquished control of her Satellite back into her capable hands. (I highly recommend watching the interview. His expressions are priceless.) It's all here, the information for operating the cubesat, patents in your name, pay stubs listing back pay plus interest... Everything you have rightly earned. I apologize, for not fully considering the value of that last night. Women like us need to stick together, and I am grateful you reminded me of that. It was easy enough to complete both our goals, and I never would have considered it otherwise. Don't give up the fight. I hope to see you around. The Traveler ✶⋆.˚

Anna tries to reply but the email bounces back; it's already disconnected. 

Anna wants to show the Traveler just how grateful she is, needs to speak with her again. She looks over the instructions and tips she sent.

She is going to need all the help she can get if she wants to find her again.

[chris-continues]

Random ideas:

Mermaid knives? 👀

Escape room together with Nai?

Clothing shopping with Nai? Maybe make him try goofy stuff for fun :>

What color wax do u think Nai would use the most for wax seals? I have a wax seal kit and I thought I'd try makin something that would be atleast similar to what Nai would make

Do u think he would ride a motorcycle?

(Sorry if this is alot.....)

Omg I want to answer all of these time for a load of hcs heehehhehheheh

Random Knives HC’s

So I couldn’t come up w much for mermaid au, but escape room Knives will plague my mind since I’ve been to an escape room once and I loved it.

Escape room

-he’d think they’re overpriced and whatever but Vash knows he likes murder mystery stuff.. so he supposes he can indulge him 

-he actually gets kinda into it but tries to hide it LMAO

-Vash will take him again to like celebrate smth (like passing an important exam or getting an internship somewhere he was really looking forward to) and they take you with them

-you get into it too and Vash helps to keep track of clues while you guys solve it

-you’re on his mind even moreso after that- your excited face after you found a clue, or a new lead, or how you peered over his shoulder cautiously to see what puzzle he was solving.. god.

-yeah the pining continues

Clothing shopping

-Nai doesn’t like shopping for brand new things- having to start adulthood far too early in poverty meant that he had to find cheaper ways to access necessities. Such as clothes

-hence why knives loves thrifting. He’s a goodwill god, if I do say so myself

-imagine sifting through racks together and you find a goofy sweater for him. (You suggest he wears it and he scoffs- good naturedly, but with a bit of playful fire nonetheless).

-you find some cute things while he’s looking for whatever he needs- usually not much, however on occasion he needs more professional wear, or he’s looking for Vash

-I do think you’d mostly be sifting through clothes in minimal silence- he brings his headphones to listen to a podcast. You’re listening to the same one, he has excellent taste :)

-you brush forearms as you shop, shuffling beside one another awkwardly in the cramped area of the aisles, faces a bit flushed from your proximity

-guess what? The pining continues

-thrifting is something that brings you both comfort when not outside your home though. It’s a routine that happens in your relationship- when you’re both in a shopping mood, that is. In happenstance, if you feel like spending the day in and Knives has to run errands, he will definitely look for you more. This shirt reminds him of you, or those shoes. You’d like that.

Romantic letters

- @coffinbeananteiku (aka Sam) is the one that came up w/ the wax seal color hcs!

-she mentioned that Knives would overthink the color meanings and end up choosing either black or white (I’ve mentioned it once on my blog I think) but definitely give them a follow! I love her ideas a ton :D

-for my own thoughts? Knives loves the flow of writing in cursive. He almost never does on schoolwork, to make grading easier and neater, and he usually types anyways

-but his handwriting is elegant and direct in its own way, complimenting the utter devotion in his words as he writes to you. It’s easier for him to piece his thoughts out delicately onto the table before placing them onto the paper, sealing it once he’s read it 2-3 times (or more) and leaving it at your doorstep- as is routine for whenever he drops off letters.

Motorcycle?

-BWANAHAJAJAHAHAHAAH *cackles* no of course not/lh

-you think after he lost his only parental figure and his brother having lasting health conditions + the loss of an arm to a car accident, he’d be adamant on nothing as dangerous as a motorcycle

-you are in fact correct in that assumption

-Wolfwood rides a motorcycle though, Vash rides with him. And when Knives caught wind of the news, he was furious. How could Vash be so reckless?

-It’s weeks before Knives fully cools down, but it’s got a lasting effect on him. He needs alone time. For several days. He’s enraged.

-once he finally talks to Vash he’s biting his cheek roughly, hands grasping the arm of the couch tightly. “You do know it’s dangerous, correct?”

-“And I know you care-“

-“I do.”

-it’s a disagreement that Vash knows is plenty reasonable from his brother, and it never fully simmers.

[blackbirdsnonsense]

You ever have one of those ideas that you know is a strong start to a story but you don't know if you'll EVER do anything more with it?

Yeah this is one of those ideas. There's so much promise with these two scenes but I have NO idea where to go with them from here! So hope you just enjoy being teased!

******

Morning at Monster High brought with it a hustle and bustle of students moving throughout the hallways to get to their classes on time. Students such as Frankie Stein who was rummaging through her locker for the right books for her next class. As she did so she was approached by her best ghoulfriends, Draculaura and Clawdeen Wolf.

“Hey Frankie! Ready for class?” Draculaura asked.

“Almost, I just need to get my clawculous book,” Frankie replied.

“I just hope today’s going to be a normal day,” Clawdeen scoffed.

“What do you mean?” Draculaura asked.

“Think about it, ghoul! We’ve had to deal with genies, aliens, voice stealing crystals and a Kraken! Just to name a few things! I’m ready for this scaremester to be nice and boring.”

“Wow, when you put it like that we really have been through a lot!” Draculaura remarked.

“Which means this should be a boring scaremester cause what else could go wrong?” Frankie joked.

“Don’t say that! You’re gonna jinx us!” Clawdeen warned.

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you actually believe in that stuff?!”

Suddenly the school shook as a loud explosion was heard coming from the courtyard out front.

“You were saying?” Clawdeen snarked before she, Draculaura, Frankie and a bunch of other students ran outside.

Once they reached the steps of the front entryway, they found a large smoking crater where half the courtyard used to be. As the smoke started to clear, they could make out a figure lying in the middle of the giant hole. She looked like a blonde human girl wearing a blue shirt, red skirt and a red…cape? She let out a soft, pained moan as she started to stir before she floated up into the air, revealing a red and yellow “S” symbol on the front of her shirt. She rubbed her forehead as she regained her senses. She looked over at the collection of monsters all staring at her and smiled nervously.

“Um…hi?” she said sheepishly.

“Hello…flying normie girl,” Draculaura replied awkwardly. “Are you…okay?”

“I…think so? I just…need to find out where I am.”

“How about we start with who are you?” Clawdeen insisted.

“Oh right. You can call me, Supergirl.”

XXXXXX

Morning at Ever After High brought with it the hustle and bustle of students trying to get to their classes on time. That was except for Apple White, who merely stood in front of her open locker and stared at an old picture of her and Daring Charming. It was taken only a few months ago but it felt like a lifetime ago. Before she accidently freed the Evil Queen. Before she bit into that poison apple. Before…

“Hey…Apple?”

The voice brought her out of her stupor with a start and she turned to see Raven Queen standing before her.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Oh, I’m fine,” Apple tried to line. “I was just…looking for one of my text books.”

“Uh huh,” Raven nodded, unconvinced. She then noticed the photo. “Sooooo…things still awkward between you and Daring?”

“Yeah,” she sighed.

“And…what about you and Darling?”

Apple reflectively touched her lips at mention of the other girl’s name. Darling Charming. The Charming that actually woke her from her enchanted slumber with a kiss.

“That’s…complicated,” she muttered.

“It doesn’t have to be,” Raven said, placing a comforting hand on her friend’s shoulder.

Before Apple could respond, the school shook as a loud explosion was heard just outside.

“What was that?!” Raven shouted in surprise.

She, Apple, and some other students ran towards the front entrance of the school. Once they reached the front steps they found a giant, smoking crater in the front courtyard. As the smoke began to clear they could make out a figure lying in the middle of the giant hole. She was wearing a red shirt with gold armor shoulder pads and a pair of blue pants with stars down the sides and red boots. She let out a soft, pained groan as she stood up and brushed some of the black hair from her face to reveal a gold tiara with a red star in the center.

“Um…hello? Are you alright?” Apple asked as she cautiously approached the newcomer.

“I…think so. I just need to figure out where I am,” she replied.

“Maybe you could start with telling us who you are,” Raven suggested.

“My name is Diana, Princess of Themyscira. But you can call me, Wonder Woman.”

[harmonyckrs]

Phase 1, Day 1 of The Strangetown Takeover: Welcome to the Asylum

This quest will be divided into three phases:

Phase 1: Leaving the Asylum and Fleeing to Pleasantview

Phase 2: Getting All Survivors Out of the Asylum

Phase 3: Stopping [REDACTED] Once and For All

Let the game begin.

There's not much that you can remember as you wake up, surrounded by white tiles inside of a cramped room. Even your name has somehow escaped your memory, but there's one thing that you do know - you're not supposed to be here, and something terrible will happen to you if you don't find a way to leave.

???: Patient 006. I see you're awake now.

NAME: Dr. Harper Terrestrial

Harper: I trust you've slept well. I'm Harper, your assigned practitioner. I'll be watching over you to ensure that your progress towards recovery will be going smoothly.

006: Where am I right now? Am I going to be experimented on?

Harper: Please, calm down. You're here because you've been deemed too unstable to remain in the hospital. But if it makes you feel better, you're the most sane out of all of the patients here.

006: Does that mean I can leave?

Harper: No, but we can negotiate a deal. We're going to let you get a job outside of the asylum and be supervised by some of the guards here. If you're able to reach the maximum level, we'll let you go. Deal?

006: Oh, neat! Sounds easy enough. Deal!

Harper: Good. I'll be rooting for you, Laz-er, Patient 006. I'll be around if you have any questions.

006: I have multiple, actually...

After that encounter with Harper, you have been granted access to the LIVING AREA. There's not much there, what with the limited budget and all, but it's at least better than nothing.

Harper: So, what questions do you have? I'll try my best to answer.

006: What...happened, before I woke up? Why am I here?

Harper: There was a terrible accident in Strangetown that caused a lot of people to act more irrationally, and even more to suffer memory loss. The hospital was getting too full, so we had to move some people to this place instead. You included.

006: What was the accident?

Harper: I think it was some kind of failed experiment. But don't worry about it too much. You should be on the path of full recovery, but we're not quite sure about your family yet.

006: Family?

Harper: Yes, you have family. I can't say anything more about them because of patient confidentiality, unfortunately. Don't worry about them too much and focus on your-

???: OW! HELP, SOMEONE! I THINK I'M ABOUT TO GIVE BIRTH!

Harper: That must be Patient 004! Good talk, 006! Let me know if you need anything!

Harper dashes out of the building. You follow her to the sound of the voice, unlocking the OUTSIDE AREA and encountering a building that seemingly has no doors. But strangely, there was someone else waiting for you.

???: I knew I'd find you here! Who would've thought that the one who nearly became Dr. Vu's second in command would be one of the first thrown into prison, eh?

006: Um...who are you?

Melony: Name's Melony Felony. We haven't met before, but I've keeping an eye on some people that you know and that did result in me seeing you a couple of times. The curse prevented me from getting close to people.

006: (That's really creepy.) What curse?

Melony: It was a curse that prevents me from being able to befriend people, but Dr. Vu found a witch to remove it form me. But I assure you, I'm not on her side like those so-called doctors are. Don't trust a single word they say.

006: Alright then...

Melony: I'm going to get going now, but you'll know where you find me when the time's right.

Meanwhile, inside of the building with no door...

NAME: Pascal Curious Patient 004

Harper: Aww, what an adorable baby! And in perfect health, too! He looks just like his father.

004: I know! I'm going to name him Tycho.

Harper: That's a lovely name. Well, now that we've gotten that over with, I'll take Tycho to a safer place.

004: Excuse me? What do you mean?

Harper: Well, it wouldn't be fair to raise little Tycho inside of a hospital room, would it? He deserves to be able to see the world.

004: I know, but...am I at least allowed to see him from time to time?

Harper: We'll, um, think about it. Just give him to me...

THE NEXT DAY

[theoddcatlady]

Mr. Ferguson

I think the whole street breathed a sigh of relief when we saw the EMTs take a body bag out of the Ferguson house. I was only about ten or eleven at the time and it’s been a while so some details of my childhood are lost to time, but I can’t forget Mr. Ferguson.

There was never a Mrs. Ferguson in the picture, as far as I know. He lived in the house on the corner, the one with the bright yellow shutters and the gorgeous garden out back. The garden didn’t make up for the rotten old bastard he was. I wondered once if he was nicer when he was younger, when he didn’t have to walk with a cane and could actually get around without help, but my dad set me straight on that one. Mr. Ferguson had always been a terrible person and the neighbor from hell.

All day long, Mr. Ferguson would sit on his front porch in his rocking hair, grasping onto his black cane as he stared out on the street. If someone walking their dog even got close to his yard, he’d start spewing threats about what he’d do if the dog took a shit on his lawn. If a kid put even a toe on his property, he’d get up from that chair and start shouting more terrible things. I learned my first cuss words from Mr. Ferguson, he didn’t censor his language even among the smallest of ears. And he wasn’t all talk. One of my friend’s dogs wandered into the Ferguson yard, just sniffing around as beagles do, and Mr. Ferguson beat that dog bloody. The poor thing had anxiety for the rest of its life and if you so much as passed the Ferguson house with it the dog would lose its mind.

Other than him, our neighborhood was a friendly place. Summers were full of cook outs and pool parties, winters had Secret Santa gift exchanges and someone was always willing to help shovel out your driveway. You’d never be hard pressed to find a babysitter on short notice, odds are your friend had a teenage daughter willing to make a few bucks to make sure the kids were on bed in time.

But not Mr. Ferguson. People did try to bring him in on the fun sometimes. He’d scoff and tell them to leave him alone in no uncertain terms. Mom said he just wanted to be miserable. I didn’t understand how someone could want that and well, I still don’t.

One hot summer morning though, his caretaker came in to do a check and found him in his garden, dead as a door nail. Probably a stroke or a heart attack.

My mom made us go to the funeral. I don’t know why, she probably hated Mr. Ferguson the most and we were like one of five people that went. One of those people was the priest. At least it was short, the priest just said a few words about how we should treasure our lives and be good to others and then Mr. Ferguson was chucked into the ground.

That was that… or so I thought.

The accidents started happening just a week later.

I was at my friend Michael’s house, we were playing board games when we heard the crash. It was so loud it shook the house and Michael dropped his soda. Root beer spilled onto the carpet as we tried to figure out what that sound was for a second.

Then we heard his dad screaming bloody murder.

Forgetting completely about the spilled soda, we ran out to the garage where he’d been working on changing the oil in the car.

Michael’s dad was pinned by the car against the garage door, face white as a sheet as his head lolled to the side. I saw blood splattered against the off gray color of the metal and I puked while Michael ran inside to call 911.

It was luck that he survived. He never walked again and health issues plagued him for the rest of his life, but for a guy crushed by a car that’s probably best case scenario.

It was an accident, sure, but a weird one. The car just suddenly launched forward as Michael’s dad stood in front of it. But there was no one in the garage with him. So yeah. It was just an accident.

But accidents started happening more and more often.

The next one was at the final pool party of the season. We were all at the Benson house because they’d just gotten a brand new hot tub. There was probably like twelve kids running around, the sun was shining, the barbecue was sizzling. I had just gotten out of the pool to grab a lemonade and was chatting with Annie when I heard the pop.

Mrs. Benson and her friends had been relaxing in the hot tub, making jokes and laughing until the pop. Their bodies suddenly went rigid before they began rapidly jerking about and twitching. Mr. Benson shouted if she was all right and I heard this gurgled yell before Mrs. Benson went under.

The kids stampeded out of the pool and I smelled something burning before I realized that the hot tub was on fire.

Mrs. Benson and her sister ended up dying on the way to the hospital. The other woman ended up surviving but not without some serious electrical burns. Electrocution via hot tub. Just an accident. But there was one more accident we all missed until we returned to the pool to see a little body floating at the top. Three year old Maggie had fallen in during the chaos and drowned.

Mr. Benson moved away after that. Losing both his wife and youngest child in that house just killed something inside of him. But after he moved away, we all saw it happen.

His backyard became overgrown by plants. Not over a few weeks, like what happens when a house is uninhabited and there’s no one to mow the lawn. The very day after they’d left that house the backyard was now filled with dandelions, daffodils, lilies. and all sorts of flowers that shouldn’t naturally appear in the late summer.

It was like a garden.

Accidents happen, sure. But not like this. Not when a guy who’s been working home improvement his entire life ends up toppling from a ladder and breaking his spine. Not when a mom trips and falls face first into the open dishwasher and ends up getting impaled on a knife. Not when a toddler was left alone for just a few seconds and ends up nearly drowning in the bathtub.

Dogs ran into the road and ended up getting hit by cars. Kids fell from their bunk beds and cracked their heads like eggshells on their dressers. Teenagers got into fatal car wrecks. It was a mess.

Two other families ended up leaving our neighborhood and their yards had the same fate as the Benson’s- completely grown over. A morbid beauty.

Fall came and the yards grew brown but the gardens seemed to be even greener. The whispers started about a ghost. A ghost that was such a miserable old bastard in life and was now a nasty poltergeist in death.

Mr. Ferguson had never left our neighborhood.

It all came to a head when a tree was struck by lightning and a large tree limb crashed into our living room. I’d just tripped while picking up my things and suddenly the roof caved in above me. I was lucky I was on the ground. If I’d been standing, well, I’d probably not be telling you this story.

Two nights later my mom woke me up. She looked grim.

“Come on. We’re going to see Mr. Ferguson.”

When we walked out of the house, I saw everyone on our street was out. Everyone had this same grim look on their face. The deaths, the mutilation, it’d forever tarnished our street and we’d all had enough. We walked down the street, I saw several guys walk into Mr. Ferguson’s house with mallets and chainsaws, but we kept going with a few of the others. I saw that several of the adults were carrying shovels and containers of lighter fluid.

We walked into the graveyard and my mom led them right to Mr. Ferguson’s grave. She took a deep breath.

“… Start digging.”

It was the frantic endeavors of people who believed they were cursed. Dirt flew in the air and nearly pelted me in the head a few times. I hid behind my mom, who just stood there stone faced.

Even now the accidents weren’t over. A man tripped in the hole and his leg snapped like a twig. He wailed as he was dragged away by a few others before they got right back to digging. Someone else got smacked the face with a shovel and blood coursed down his face from his nose as he just kept on digging.

Finally the coffin was reached, the lid cracked open. Mr. Ferguson’s body laid inside. He didn’t even look dead, it was like he was just taking a nap.

Then they started pouring the lighter fluid in. It covered the corpse’s skin, his clothes. They probably added more than necessary. My mom struck the match and threw it in, shielding me from the sudden burst of flames.

I didn’t get to see the body, but I swore I heard that old man’s yelling as his body burned.

It was over after all that. The gardens were all dead by morning. The accidents stopped. And although we’d lost so many of our friends over the past year, we recovered. New neighbors moved in. We welcomed them into our fold. One or two asked about the property on the corner, the one that looked like a tornado hit it, and we’d just say it was vandals. They stopped asking. We never talked about what we did to Mr. Ferguson’s body. And soon we just stopped thinking about it.

I grew up on that street. Even now I only live a few blocks away. And for so long I wondered why our family was practically the only one untouched by the tragedy. We never got hurt, even when the tree branch came crashing into our living room.

I think I found out the answer. See, my mom passed away a few months ago from breast cancer and I’ve been going through her things. She’s always been such a good, kind woman and it was great seeing pictures of her helping plant the garden behind the church and teaching at the local school.

But in the bottom of the box, hidden under dozens of other albums, was a picture from when she married my dad. Unlike the family picture with the groom, all it was was my mom and an older man. I didn’t recognize him until I flipped the picture over.

On the back was written ‘Pauline Walters (P. Ferguson) and The Father of the Bride.’

[cheezeybread]

Once I learn how to draw, it is OVER for you nerds.

I'm gonna have to commission someone to make a proper character sheet for her one day 🤣

Anyway, more about my twst oc, Tallulah, as I try to straighten out her character! And also some of my Yuusona, Ray...just some sprinkles here and there, teehee.

Man, maybe I should just go ahead and write a fanfic for her, idk!

Sooooo have a random jumble of thoughts!

Orca mermaids, like irl orcas, tend to stick in a "pod", made up of famil members and Mayne a few tagalongs! They're divided based on their last names (ex, the "Freshwater" pod will be made up of those in the Freshwater family), so Tallulah belongs to the RingWater pod.

Having not as many white spots on her body compared to the other orcas, she has an advantage against prey if she hunts in the deeper areas of the ocean (of course, this also means that she won't be able to see as well, since it's dark lol). She's had some accidents hunting, when coming across sea creatures that can easily spot her in the darkness, but nothing life-threatening. Other than the cookie cutter shark that tried to nibble on her when she was a young lass.

Discovering her knack for some types of magic, as well as finding the concept of land fascinating, like many other mercreatures, Tallulah left her family to work on Sage's Island- eventually landing a part-time gig at the Night Raven College's library, and another part time job at an antique shop towards the coast. Both jobs keep her busy, for sure, but during her down-time, Tallulah will check out books from the library about magic and practice whenever she can. She's not very good at it due to no professional teachings, but it's a start!

Tallulah is a relatively quiet girl, who prefers to keep her thoughts to herself and doesn't see much reason so speak to strangers. But at least she's smart to make up for her lack of social-ness! Sis has those smart-orca genes, and is a cunning lil beyotch-. At NRC's library, she's known for being able to suggest specific books for classes and knows exactly where each individual book is (blame it on her being a huge nerd who spends most of her free time at said library, even though she's not an actual student...lmao, what a loser!!)

But alas, one day she has the unfortunate luck of running into Ray, a magicless human who's found herself stuck both in this world and in this school. The two strike up a quick friendship as Ray babbles on about her situation while Tallulah is working on sorting books, and since Ray doesn't have anything better to do, she pops back in to bother our dear little mer-orca gal every shift! Once they get close enough, Ray suggests that Tallulah should come live in Ramshackle with her and Grim, since it's a fairly large building and can house plenty other people! Not to mention they could use the extra muscle in fixing it up. Surprisingly, Crowley agrees (on the condition that he doesn't have to pay Tallulah for working at the library since he'll be giving her a place to live), and now there's one extra member of the Ramshackle home!

Since she's not technically a student, there are some areas of campus that are off-limits to her (pretty much just the main building in which classes are held) for a little while, but don't worry! She gets full-access to the campus after a month or so, just by doing some tasks for the Headmage.

And, in helping Ray and Grim with their classwork (as well as Ace and Deuce since, let's be honest, those two are ALWAYS at the Ramshackle house), Tallulah learns some more about magic, slowly working up her power and skills. She's still not a super-powerful mage, ofc, but baby steps! :)

[virginmarychangbininthemegaverse]

Changbin Rosary in Stray Kids "MEGAVERSE" MV

I literally made this whole blog only to show everybody my investigation on Changbin rosary in the MEGAVERSE MV because I'm FK obsessed with rosaries and I wanted to replicate it. Finally I can't but stay tuned to the end (pun not intended) to now why.

(Disclaimer: I love Stray Kids music but I don't consider myself for the moment a Stay, so I maybe mess up the names, I will try not, and I have no fucking clue about the Stray Kids lore, I suppose this one is about some type of multiversal Christian elevator. It's a joke, I know there is more but I find it funny to describe this like this the same way I describe ATEEZ as multiversal flying pirates with evil doppelgangers trying to dismantle a dictatorial dystopia with some type of illegal contraband ring of bullets in hot chilly peppers while actively killing people. I swear someday I'll learn the Stray Kids lore bc I really like their music)

(Disclaimer 2: I'm a multi and a legally Christian atheist. If you don't like me being a multi or an atheist, find peace by blocking me as God intended. Thanks! ❤️❤️)

NOW WITH THE ROSARY

For the easy part, if you zoom in on the rosary, you can see it's made out of white hearts. Make sense actually when you see that the hearts have some protagonism in the MV. And because I highly doubt that they made this rosary from scratch bead to bead like I do I searched on Aliexpress and SURPRISE I found it!

https://es.aliexpress.com/item/1005003973327676.html?gatewayAdapt=glo2esp

You can see it even has the same centre with the halo on the Virgin Mary's head. I know in the MV it can look like gold but is the illumination. Changbin's rosary is totally silver. Now the difficult part. You can see there are differences. BECAUSE THEY TOOK THIS ROSARY AND THEY FRANKENSTEIN IT WITH OTHER THING. I couldn't understand initially the pendant part. It's too long, I don't understand what that word means, and the beads made no sense to me. And the crucifix is actually different, they also changed it.

Here you can see the different parts. At first, I thought they added some type of chain between the pendant beads and after the beads another elongation with that word, like some type of independent DIY work. But those beads also didn't make sense because they were too close to each other and that would have meant too much work that only I like to do. And after I realised those beads were not hearts. Like, it's a totally different pendant. And then I realised that the Behind the Scenes video of this MV existed and OMG THANK GOD FOR THIS AMEN because you could see much better the rosary. Because I swear I couldn't see what that word was: Fero? Feno? Nop. Here you have it.

Okay, the word is FenG with some type of diamond incrustation and a sans serif typography. That resolved absolutely nothing for me because I tried to search for something related to FenG and all I had for a day was Feng Shui results.

Then I saw the chain: it's a very typical curb chain usually marketed to the male bad boy street silver vibe. Personally I find it's an elegant chain but it's true that the general vide of a curb chain it's "bad boy". Perfect, now we have bad boy Virgen Mary repartiendo hostias that I'm very sure would kick Herodes ass with all God's force. So I thought "Yeah, that's easy, I can find a curb chain and Frankenstein everything together". But then, telling all this to a friend I had a fucking revelation. Bellow the Virgin Mary centre you can see a HOOK. So I thought OMG the pendant part has to be some type of bracelet with the word FenG that they throw in the rosary and call it a day. Well, I found nothing. But then, while I was in the toilet, EUREKA, I found it! I don't know why it didn't cross my mind that that part could be a necklace instead of a bracelet but I found it absolutely on accident:

It's apparently a dissected part of the FCW Diamond Necklace from the Feng Chen Wang Fall/Winter 2022 Collection. It's not anymore on the FenG CHen WANG official shop (I had to use WayBackMachine to see the original one bc some of the versions I found were clearly replicas bc the curb chain and the pearls were different) and it's not cheap to buy in other shops. That's why I'm not going to be able to replicate this one because I don't have 300 or 150 USD to do this (that's the price they are selling it now). Sorry.

But this is still interesting. The part that they used in the rosary is the FenG part until the hook with the pearls. EVERYTHING MAKES SENSE NOW. Like, I'm sure they had the original necklace hanging around for a past MV and they did the Frankenstein rosary that we can see in the MV. So now Virgin Mary Changbin has a luxury 300 USD rosary on his neck. Cool.

Now the final part. The crucifix. Well, I have no clue so I'm gonna give you an alternative with an explanation.

Repeat with me, IT'S SILVER. Not gold. Now the form. As you can see it's not the same as the Aliexpress one I found. This one had the centre with some type of aura or petals, so I suppose they pasted another crucifix that they had in the studio. Surely, and bc in some parts it looks like it has some time of bling bling, it's from some expensive jewellery they had in there. Or maybe it's a cheap crucifix they found on the internet like the original heart rosary. And that's what I did. I researched. I don't think I found the original but I found an alternative.

https://es.aliexpress.com/item/32945065283.html

So this is the end of my TED Talk on Changbin rosary in the Megaverse MV, how it was made, and how you can replicate it if you found a replica of the FenG necklace.

Thank you for listening!

[snakerdoodlle]

“When you think they have found peace, I know that they have not.”

-

Hello everyone, I have made a Red Queen OC :) Ahh I’ve been super excited to draw her!! I finally finished the ref sheet so meet Nell Freeman, a newblood born in Norta and bearing an ability called spirit-walking!

Her full info page (including general info, ability info, + backstory) is about 5K words (most of it being her backstory lmao) so I completely understand not reading it but if you wish to (I will love you sm), it’s located under here + a few zoom-ins from her ref above:

Some important notes about her backstory - she does have close connections to Jon and did find herself in the middle of Maven’s path, then ending up helping the young king even though she never meant to. She’s also considered part of the Scarlet Guard, but she’d never call herself one of them. She’s not a fan of taking sides… after all, everyone ends up the same way when it comes down to it.

General info:

Name: Nell Maddox Freeman

Age: 26 years

Height: 5’9”

Birthday: October 18th

Blood type: Newblood

Birthplace: Norta

Current residence: Montfort/undetermined, always on the move

Allegiance(s): None

Personality:

Nell is a reserved and quiet individual who has a constant sad look to her. She keeps to the backs of crowds, or avoids them altogether, instead content to sit and watch. She’s very aware of everything in her environment, despite people thinking opposite because she appears to be spaced out most of the time. She’s good at reading people’s emotions, always studying their faces, specifically their eyes. They say eyes are the windows to the soul after all. People often avoid her, both out of fear of her ability and because she is not very open or welcoming to an outside perspective. But she would never describe herself as lonely, she has plenty of otherworldly company. If someone took the time to get to know her, they’d find she’s a great listener and has a gentle kindness.

Ability:

Spirit Walking

Ever since she was 18 years old, Nell Freeman has been able to see spirits of the deceased. Her soul is connected to the spirit realm, allowing her to see, hear, talk to, and “touch” these entities. She can see spirits at all times and being able to see them does not involve her having to explicitly activate her powers. This comes as a result of her being tied to the crossway, the halfway point between the living and the dead. The only ones she’s able to see are those who are stuck in the crossway as a result of unfinished business or them becoming lost on their way to the other side, commonly know as the afterlife. Part of her job includes trying to help these spirits settle so they may leave the living world and reach the spirit world. She can also guide those who are dying over to prevent such things from happening.

Her ability actually being “activated” happens whenever she brings a living person with her into the crossway so that they may talk to a spirit; she would describe herself as a bridge of sorts in this regard. Doing this could be dangerous, since there is a possibility of wrathful spirits wishing to come after the person she brings. There is not much she can yet do about this issue besides refusing to host the connection between living and dead. When Nell activates her abilities, the sigils on her hands will begin to glow, as will her hair and the whites of her eyes. Her irises disappear and her hands will turn a bluish-white color, and this change in color will end up going about halfway up her forearms.

Though she would never wish to do so, she does have the power to trap a living person in the crossway. This could happen either on accident or on purpose, usually via the person letting go of her hands outside of the crossway or her of theirs. Such a thing results in the slow loss of their soul as they are left to wander for eternity or the forever torment from those after them, their body then left empty and paralyzed back in the living world. She can choose to get them out or not, and this has only happened once before. She wants for it to never happen again.

With time, she has discovered she’s able to tell when someone is about to die, no matter what way it may come. And with time, she has learned never to tell someone when she knows. It is usually only mere hours before it happens or less. There will be a certain energy around the person, one heavy with the weight of death and it will leave a sinking feeling in her gut.

Since she’s discovered what she can do, all she’s wanted is to help people. It does not matter their blood color or their status, if someone wishes to speak to a dead loved one and get closure, then she will give it to them. She will spend her life helping these spirits until she one day joins them.

Backstory:

Nell’s story started as any average Red: born to a poor family, in a poor town, destined for the battlefields once she turned eighteen. She grew up struggling as a Red did: getting the bare minimum education, the food on the table being whatever they could scrape together, fighting to keep things afloat. Her mother, Edith Freeman, and her father, Jasper Freeman, were emotionally distant towards her, as if they never truly wanted the extra burden of a child atop all of their other struggles. Her father fought through his time at the war front for fifteen years, coming out with a lost arm and a permanent limp, and her mother worked as an apprentice to a Red cook within a lower Silver house. Nell did what her parents told her, she was a quiet child which to them meant she was a good child, and she did her best to exceed in her classes even though it wasn’t ever very difficult. She wanted their attention and their love, but she never said as such, knowing she’d never get it.

When she was seven, her parents had a son, Oliver Freeman. He was like her exact opposite. He was loud, messy, and could never sit still. He made friends quite easily, something she could never do; not like she ever really tried for that matter. He would attempt to play with her but he was always too much for her and she was too quiet for him, so eventually he stopped. Something Nell noticed was how different her parents treated Oliver. It was like a flip was switched. They gave him their love, they gave him their attention, they comforted him when he was upset, they listened to him, they did everything she had wanted but they never gave her. This built a resentment for her younger brother, though she didn’t let it show.

As the years went on, she saw how her parents relationship deteriorated. She never knew why, but they started fighting more often, over the smallest things, getting louder and louder. One day when she was sixteen, it seemed her mother had had enough and she took a small bag of her belongings and left with Oliver without a goodbye, leaving Nell with her father. Nell never saw Oliver or her mother again after that day.

Her father became more bitter than he already was, taking his anger out on her. He’d call her endless names; useless, worthless, a mistake, anything he could think of. He told her how she had to support the family, as if there was much of a family left to support. He constantly pressured her to find a job, telling her the horrors of the war and what would happen to her if she was sent out there. She was glad when she finally found a job that took her out of her home and away from her father. She was able to take a position within House Welle, the house of the greenwardens. It was the closest she ever got to Silvers, powerful ones at that. She wasn’t scared of them like most Reds, she was more fascinated by them and their powers. However, she stayed out of the way of the Welles, simply doing her job and sticking to the shadows. She sent half of whatever measly money she earned back to her father and kept the rest within her safe box in her servants quarters. She was able to keep herself from the war, but another problem wasn’t afraid to show itself when she was eighteen.

It first started with her dark, reddish-brown roots turning white. She already had some of the usual Red hair, gray and brittle at the ends from years of stress and hard work, but this was unusual. Luckily, no one paid any attention to another simple Red servant so she was able to keep it hidden until it began to spread. The second thing that came was the sigils and designs that appeared on her hands, made from light blue ink that seemed to be etched permanently into her skin. She woke up with them one morning and in a panic tried to scrub them off to no avail, then having to beg one of her fellow servants for an old pair of leather gloves they had to spare. From then on she kept them over her hands at all times. As time with these changes went on, she noticed her eye color changing and becoming duller, her normal light brown instead becoming a cloudy blue. It was like all of the color was draining from her, like her life was draining from her. She didn’t understand what was happening to her, only that she could be killed for this. That was until she saw her first spirit.

She had been going about her job as normal, trying to avoid suspicion when she noticed someone next to her. She looked up at the person, a young woman, and she looked like a normal human except for the fact her body was transparent, slightly blue in color, and she seemed to be floating off the ground by an inch or two. Nell thought maybe this was some Silver ability she never heard of before, so she kept cleaning, looking like a dutiful Red with nothing weird going on. Then the woman spoke to her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nell Freeman,” she had said. ”We’ve been waiting very, very long for someone like you to be given to us.”

Nell had looked up again, confused. She didn’t understand what the woman meant, or how she knew her name. The woman saw her confusion and went on to explain.

She smiled. “You have a gift, my dear. You see, I’m a dead woman, have been for the past fifty years. You’re the only one who is able to hear and see me right now. You’re able to see all kinds of spirits and talk to us. You’re meant to help us.”

Nell could barely comprehend what she heard, she simply stared in shock before she hurried away from the woman with her hands shaking. That couldn’t be right, could it? Seeing dead people?

After that day, she saw spirits everywhere. They were all ages and types, ranging from young children to elders and both Red and Silver, not like blood type really mattered much when they were all dead. They looked at her with interest, and she tried to ignore them, but luckily none of them tried to talk to her again like that first woman. She heard their whispering, their tales and woes in the back of her mind, she could feel their weight, it all kept her up at night. Though nothing had freaked her out more than when she opened her eyes once in the dead of night to find several of them bent over her bed staring at her. She had screamed in terror and demanded they never do that again and thankfully, they didn’t. That was also the first time she ever spoke to them.

She was nineteen when she met the man with the red eyes, Jon. He came to her when her hair was almost all white, her eyes nearly completely blue, and she was out of ways to try and hide herself and avoid the spirits who followed her everywhere. Jon told her to trust him and come with him. He told her quite bluntly that if she didn’t, she’d be sentenced to death, and she couldn’t argue with that. She decided to trust this strange man and follow him, leaving House Welle, her father, and basically anything normal about her life behind.

On the way to Jon’s supposed home, he explained who he was. How he was one of what they were calling “Newbloods”, people born with Red blood that have Silver type abilities. He explained how his ability was to see the future, every possible twist and turn and path that time could take, unlike an Eagrie who could only see bits of the immediate future. He told her how she was one of those, a Newblood, and that she was like him in a way. Born with an ability dealing with the otherworldly, something other people would never be able to understand. That’s why he wanted to help her, both so that her power didn’t go to waste with her untimely death and so that she could use it properly.

She spent the next five and a half years of her life with Jon. She lived in his small, barely furnished cabin in a location she didn’t know, sleeping in the spare room which was really just an oversized closet. It was better than what she was dealing with at House Welle, so she’d take it. Jon was indifferent towards her, not showing any particular affection towards her but still being kind enough that she would consider him a friend. Her first friend. He was her mentor as well, as was more or less the whole purpose of their relationship. He taught her everything about her ability, how to use it, what to do, how to show the proper respect needed when dealing with the dead. She trained and she practiced, even managing to help a few spirits cross over to the other side. Doing that always filled her with good feelings, knowing that she helped someone at last find their peace. Some just needed help finding their way while others needed her help to complete one last thing before they could pass on, and she was happy to help however she could.

She was twenty-two when Jon took her to take someone’s spirit and guide it over for the first time. He told her this was better for them, it kept the spirits from getting lost and becoming wanderers like the ones she saw around all the time. He brought her to a nearby village and to a young boy. The young boy was dying from an illness, and didn’t have much longer to live. His parents knew this, and while they were sobbing over their child, they allowed Nell to do what she must. Jon guided her, telling her to do what she normally would to find the spirit world and to bring the boy over. After getting over her initial hesitation, she did just that. She comforted the boy who was far too young, telling him how much his parents loved him and how he’d feel better soon. She held his hand all the way, then passing him over to his aunt and grandma who were waiting for him on the other side. He had hugged her before he left. While it brought tears to her eyes, she was still happy to have been able to give the boy his peace.

Much of her training went this way, Jon taking her out to places to get hands on experiences. He was also out a lot as well, doing who knows what to change the course of who knows how many futures. It was like they were in their own little world, unbothered by the outside, by the divide of Red and Silvers. She even ended up helping a few Silvers along her journey, though they were only ever low Silvers, and they never knew she was a Red. Her skin had become pale enough that they could never tell. Jon had told her that one day it’ll be all up to her who to help, who to go to, who to find, and how she’ll handle that responsibility. She had given him a small smile and told him she could do it and he gave her a smile in return, and with him she didn’t know if that was good or bad.

She never knew her time with Jon was coming to an end until it was already over. It’s not like he told her anything, after all. It had seemed like a normal day, though Jon was bringing her along on one of his trips without saying any specific reason. He brought her to an abandoned town covered in soot, the town of Rosen. She doesn’t ask what happened to the town, she already had a feeling based on the amount of spirits she saw milling about the place. She was confused as to what they were there for until she heard a group enter the area, a group of five. Jon kept the two of them hidden until the time was right, but he still told her to stay behind when he went to go speak with them. Based on what she could hear, it seemed they weren’t huge fans of the seer. Then it started to rain. The group was boarding an air jet, one girl trying to still speak to Jon, when he made Nell come forward. He told her to go with the group. She was confused, stricken with fear as he sprung this on her so suddenly. He put a hand to her back and with a smile on his face, told her this was her path to take. The last thing he told her was that he enjoyed his time with her before he turned and left as if he was never there. With no other choice, Nell boarded the air jet with the group who gave her suspicious glances and kept their guns at the ready.

After an awkward silence, Nell decided to introduce herself. Saying she’s a Newblood seemed to ease the group a bit and the girl from before then introduced herself in turn. Mare Barrow. She explained who they all were, what they belonged to. A rebellion and revolution called the Scarlet Guard, built for the liberation of Reds across the continent. With her was a woman named General Farley, a young fisher boy named Kilorn, and the exiled crown prince of Norta, Tiberias Calore VII - but they all just called him Cal. Nell had heard whispers of what had happened within the palace, the death of the old king, but she never paid much attention to any of it and as such, barely knew what was going on. Mare said how they were collecting Newbloods like her, and that she was a Newblood herself; someone capable of controlling and creating lightning. When Nell spoke of her own ability, they seemed both surprised and a little off put. The prince denied that seeing ghosts was even possible, but Nell could see in his eyes that he had far more thoughts about it. Perhaps it was because he had someone who recently crossed over. An interesting group.

Being around the rebellion introduced her to the talk of war, and reintroduced her to the hatred Reds and Silvers hold for one another. A hatred that she did not share. With her abilities, she had learnt she doesn’t favor one side or the other, she only wants to help people find peace no matter their blood color.

The sense of death around the Scarlet Guard as a whole was very heavy, as was a sense of anger from the realm beyond. There were clearly a few spirits who wouldn’t mind taking vengeance on them. She never found too many spirits lingering with the rebellion, though she did try to help and speak with the ones she did see. They all died in the line of service it seemed. She wasn’t a fighter by any means, which allowed her to simply stay back and out of most conversations which was just her style. She felt others eyes on her a lot, but they always looked away when she turned towards them. She guessed people weren’t really fans of someone who could talk to things they wanted to believe were long gone.

It was almost her twenty sixth birthday when she was discovered by the king himself, Maven Calore. She had followed the Guard wherever they fled to after Mare got captured, but she went off on her own often to tend to the spirits or get a hold on her surroundings. She’d never seen so much of the country before. She had been doing just that when she ran into what looked to be a group of high ranking guards of some sort. It turned out she had been at the wrong place at the wrong time and said the wrong thing because next she knew she was being hauled off. She was taken to Whitefire, the size of the palace and the capitol city amazing her. What also amazed her was how powerful the feeling of death was. It almost choked her as she entered the city borders. She was then brought before a lonesome court, and there, sitting on a throne made of Silent Stone, was his majesty.

She’d only seen Maven once before when she was younger, in a broadcast. This version of Maven was wildly different. The first thing she noticed about him was his eyes. They were a bright, almost ice blue color but they were so… sad. Desolate. The stains born from sleepless nights beneath them held much the same story. His face was set in a displeased expression, brows slightly furrowed with a downturn to his mouth. She could sense the resentment and anger around the young king, and she felt powerful spirits wandering near him, both of them so terrifyingly fresh to the other side that they were no more than blue wisps to her eyes. It sent a shiver down her back.

“You’re Nell Freeman, correct?” He had asked her. He sounded so tired, and slightly annoyed. She definitely had to be careful; dealing with a man who had all the power in the world and was tipping over the edge was a dangerous combination.

She nodded, all of her actions hesitant. “Yes, sir.”

“And you’re able to interact with the dead?”

She paused. “Yes… sir.”

His demeanor changed, he sat up a little straighter, curiosity sparking within the icy blue depths of his eyes. “And how can you do that?”

How could she do that? She wasn’t really sure herself. She was acutely aware of her situation, the sentinels standing around, the king himself in front of her. She had no other choice than to try and explain herself. “Well, I’m able to see those who have become recently deceased and talk to them. I can also allow others to talk to spirits. And I can help lost spirits pass on to the other side.”

He nodded, more to himself than anything. He was thinking about something. His silence was enough to make her hold her breath, mind racing with thoughts about if she was going to be executed. Then he spoke. “Nell Freeman, I welcome you into my home, accommodations have been prepared for you to stay here. You’ll be called on again in a few days time.”

And with that simple statement, she was dismissed. She felt nothing but confusion and fear as sentinels herded her out of the room and down too many hallways before she was left in a room that she guessed was her new bedroom. With no belongings and nothing to do, she sat, listening to the spirits whispering around her. None of it was distinct, and she couldn’t see the entities they belonged to, but it kept her busy.

She was welcomed to the dinner that night, something offered to most Newbloods that came through the palace, it seemed. But there she saw someone familiar.

“Jon? What in the hell are you doing here?” She asked as she sat next to the seer.

He smiled his kind, slightly unnerving smile at her. “Ah, I was wondering when you would finally arrive.”

No you weren’t. She thought, knowing Jon knew exactly what second she’d walk through the dining room doors. He sees this, chuckling to himself.

The dinner went smoothly. She didn’t speak much, instead studying her surroundings and the Newbloods around her, wondering what their powers are. Every one of them seems to be so different. His majesty sits elsewhere in the banquet hall, making it easy to ignore the fact that someone who practically holds her life in his hands is in the same room as her.

Retiring for the night left a strange feeling in her gut, uneasiness about being in the palace keeping her tossing and turning throughout the night.

True to his word, the king called on her two days later.

Nell was brought into a private room where he was waiting for her. To say she was nervous was an understatement.

He wasted no time. “If what you say about your powers is true, I wish for you to allow me to speak to my recently deceased mother. You can do that can’t you?”

His mother. Queen Elara Merandus, if she remembered correctly; brought down by Mare Barrow in a gruesome end. She could see the uneasiness about the young king, his tense posture and eyes constantly scanning around him giving away more than he’d probably like. Back to the task at hand, she realized she had never attempted to call on a specific spirit before. She didn’t know if it was possible, but perhaps if Maven was with her in the crossway, it would help.

It’s not like she had much of a choice, so she nodded. “Yes, I believe I can.” She held out her hands to him, palms up. “Take my hands and don’t let go in this realm. If you do, the connection will break. I will lead us both into the spirit crossway and that should be where your mother is.”

He did as she asked with surprising ease. His hands were soft, but they were oddly cold for a burner. She closed her eyes, she took a deep breath, she concentrated. The markings on her hands began to glow softly, the color draining from her hands and turning them a bluish-white color. Her hair glowed as well, and her irises disappeared from her eyes. The room around them shifted, and they (or more specifically their souls) were transported to a ghostly valley covered in grass and trees and flowers, created by the spirits of said dead plants. Everything was in the different shades of gray, the only splashes of color being herself and Maven and the spirits within the valley.

It’s strange, because if anyone was to walk into the room back in Whitefire, they would find them just standing there frozen, hand in hand, with the eyes of someone who’s soul is no longer with them.

Maven was clearly unnerved, though he did his best not to show it. A spirit formed before them. It seemed his mother was making things easy. She didn’t know how to describe the emotion she saw in Maven at that moment. Relief? Shock? Some wild determination? She wasn’t sure.

She stepped back and let the two of them speak, not wanting to get involved with that in any way. The mother and son spoke urgently and for quite a while. Over time, she could feel her connection beginning to slip, caused by staying too long and her own stamina not being up to par.

“Your majesty,” She said. She held firm when he turned that icy gaze to her. “We must get going. I can’t hold this much longer.”

He said some parting words to his mother before joining her again. She breathed in and out and they were back in the room in the palace. She put a hand on the table next to her, trying not to fall over from the use of power. “You may go. Thank you.” Maven said, and just like that she was being escorted back to her room.

She thought that that would be it, that he wouldn’t need her anymore after that. She was sorely mistaken. He called on her at least once every other day, wanting to speak to his mother. It seems her council was more important to him than Nell realized. Despite all their time together, Nell never discovered anything about the king. It was all business between them, and he left no time for her to linger afterwards. She wasn’t particularly upset with that.

She let this go on for perhaps too long, causing more harm than good. But she never saw how she could leave. Until there was a wedding.

It was chaos; Silvers running, guns firing, and lightning splitting the sky. She joined the other Newbloods escaping thanks to the Scarlet Guard, more than happy to leave Whitefire far behind her.

The next chapter of her life led her to Montfort, a free republic where Reds and Silvers could live in peace with one another. It was a land mostly unburdened by spirits, however the otherworldly beings would always find her no matter where she went. She made herself a home there, and even though she’d spend the rest of her life going across the continent helping those that needed her, she always found herself going back.

[autistic-dumbass]

I need to share two moments that stick in my head from resident evil the umbrella conspiracy. I can’t stop thinking about them.

The first is when wesker reveals the truth to Barry.

“Now, what I'm supposed to do is get to the laboratories on the grounds here and put an end to some rather incriminating evidence--proof that White Umbrella is responsible for the accident that's caused so much trouble in Raccoon as of late. The problem is, I don't have the key to get to those labs-keys, actually. And that's where you come in. I need for you to help me find those keys."

Barry stared at him for a moment, speechless, his mind churning. An accident, a secret lab doing biological research . .

..and murdering dogs and zombies loose in the woods

He raised his revolver and pointed it at Wesker's smiling face, stunned and angry. "Are you insane?

You think I'm going to help you destroy evidence?

You crazy son of a bitch!"

Wesker shook his head slowly, acting as if Barry were a child. "Ah, Barry, you don't understand; you don't have a choice in the matter. See, a few of my friends from White Umbrella are currently standing outside of your house, watching your wife and daughters sleep. If you don't help me, your family is going to die."

Barry could actually feel the blood drain from his face. He cocked the hammer back on the Colt, feing a sudden, vicious hatred for Wesker infusing any fiber of his being.

"Before you pull the trigger, I should mention the if I don't report back to my friends fairly soon, their orders are to go ahead and do the deed anyway." The words cut through the red haze that had flooded Barry's mind, turning his hands clammy with terror.

Kathy, the babies.!

"You're bluffing," he whispered, and Wesker's grin finally disappeared, his expression slipping back into the unreadable mask that he usually wore.

"I'm not," he said coldly. "Try me. You can apologize to their headstones later."

For a moment, neither of them moved, the silenced palpable thing in the chill air. Then Barry slowly eased the hammer back down and lowered the weap on, his shoulders slumped. He couldn't, wouldn't risk it; his family was everything.

Second is when Barry returns to the scene of enrico death:

Barry was standing over Enrico's cold body, Wesker's map crumpled in one hand. Till had been gone when he'd returned--and rather than look for her, he'd found himself unable to move, to even tear his gaze away from the corpse of his murdered friend.

It's my fault. If I hadn't helped Wesker get out of the house, you'd still be alive...

Barry stared miserably at Enrico's face, so filled with guilt and shame that he didn't know what to do anymore. He knew he had to find Jill, keep her from getting to Wesker, keep his family from being hurt-but still, he couldn't seem to force himself to walk away. What he wanted more than anything was to be able to explain himself to Enrico, make him under. stand how things had come to be the way they were.

He's got Kathy and the babies, Rico... what else could I have done? What can I do but follow his orders?

The Bravo stared back at him with glazed, unseeing eves. No accusation, no acceptance, no nothing. For-ever. Even if Barry continued to help the captain and everything else turned out the way it was supposed to, Rico Marini would still be dead and Barry didn't know how he was going to live with the knowledge that he was responsible...

@bumblingbee1