#flower petals and blood | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

stareiiez · 7 months ago

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𝑭𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒓 𝑷𝒆𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒔 & 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒅

-- seven

Leonard Church ( Epsilon) x Reader

Lavernius Tucker x Reader

note: GETUP RVB FANS I'm here to serve something that's been sitting here for two years. Who's ready for restoration??

content: angst. slow burn relationships. love triangle. potential character death. smut in later chapters. pining. hanahaki disease. blood. bodily fluids. female reader. dark topics are used here a lot. 2.1k words.

The once steady thump- thump- thump- of your heart shattered at the image of Church standing in front of you. His presence, short but broad nearly blended into the lilac-altering shades that were painted on Doc's walls. You blink, once, twice, thrice, four or five times until the burning of your lungs quells your brain to force oxygen to filter into your nose and down your esophagus.

Your lungs fill, expanding in your brittle ribcage that tickles against the lung sacs. The carbon monoxide you exhale sounds shaky as it flows out of parted, chapped lips. You can't help it, not one sense of you, for the most part, is stable in this situation. You can nearly see the small, rusty wheel cogs turning in his brain as his helmeted head flows from your ashen face to the flower sitting calmly in Doc's hand. The smell doesn't hit him, it can't hit him because he's an A.I.; well .... 'ghost' for the most part. Your stomach turns as his head tilts back to you once his vision is glued to the wilting flower. Its petals were curling inwards like the oxygen surrounding it was lethal and would only kill it the more exposure it got to it.

"Well?" after a beat of silence, he speaks up again. His voice nearly makes you flinch, but with Doc by your side, you can't do much but slowly press your weight into his forearm armor. "What's with the flower? Actually, fuck that, what are you two talking about?"

His feet, soundless against the hard steel floor, take three steps to the two of you. His head tilts back and forth between the plant to yours, slowly turning, ashen face. You can only blink, sometimes you don't even dare to break the shocked eye contact you have with the pale gold visor of Church's helmet. "I'm waiting." His voice drips in sarcasm, and the heady impatience in the underlying tone of his words are only magnified when his hands are planted on his hips.

Doc clears his throat, his hand instantly curling around the flower in his bare palm. His nose wrinkles at the feel of the velvety soft petals crumbling and growing damp and squishy in his fist. "She was just showing me the first real flower that she managed to grow out here. Who knew stale old cave water could grow marvelous things! "

Church turns his scrutinizing gaze away from you just long enough to have his pale eyes look Doc up and down slowly. So slow in a way like he's trying to read out every single cell in the medic's body. "I didn't know you were into flowers, Doc."

The latter throws Church a smile, one that looks so nervous and not genuine, but he's trying his damn best to get all eyes off you and your borderline panic attack. "Sure! Botonology was going to be my new major if I didn't get immediately accepted into med school and shipped out here. Donut even offered to help me run my little flower shop when we get back home after this cruddy war." Doc stutters nervously, his cheeks flushing at the vain attempt to lie his way smoothly towards Church.

If you were in any right mind, you would have had a mark of your palm in the middle of your forehead from how hard you would have facepalmed. Instead, you can only breathe, count to ten in your whirring head, and try to come back to reality as fast as humanly possible. Your head tilts and catches the glint of light that bounces off Church's visor. He hadn't even been listening to whatever bullshit Doc spewed out of his mouth. He was busy watching you, studying, trying to figure out why you looked so tense and why your chest hadn't moved since the first moment he had even appeared in the room.

"Can I talk to you for a moment--" Church reaches for you, his fingers don't even have the chance to grasp at you because you're moving your arm away from his transparent touch. "Alone."

"Are you kicking me out of my room? You can't do that! I'll tell Sarge and he will . . . he'll come to yell at you and ---"

"It's fine, Doc." Your voice breaks the nearly growing ramble that leaves Doc's mouth, his cheeks are red and his glasses are growing just a tad hazy from how much he speaks. "It'll be fine."

Doc blinks, mouth snapping shut with the loudest clack of his molars striking against each other in abrupt shock. He blinks twice or three more times until he scurries out of the room. Your eyes faintly trail after the back of Doc's head. He doesn't have time to even turn back to you and offer some silent look of support before the sliding doors have closed and locked behind him. Church's part, how he hasn't grown aware he can hack into the ' mainframe ' of Red Base and manipulate objects by his will is a shock. The idiot has grown smarter. Your head tilts. The corner of your mouth lits in a soft curve upwards, shoulders shrug and you silently have one moment of smug to yourself. Shocker.

However, that feeling goes away when Church swims into your vision and his visor is locked onto your eyes. You knew his own were trained on you. The light color of his irises would be trying to drink your expression in. Figuring out emotions and trying his fucking best to start up a conversation. If he wasn't dead he would have approached you like some fucking feral animal that was backed into a corner, fear in its eyes and ready to pounce on whoever was there to help it.

You probably look like that feral animal. You haven't bathed in a couple of days ever since your coughing fits have turned into full-on vomit moments of colorful flowers. You couldn't sleep. Nightmares of drowning on dry land while blood and flower vines would seep from your nose and open mouth, your eyes would roll back and be poked out by sharp rose thorns that would rapidly creep from your body.

It was like hell on earth, and for some reason, Church was your Lucifer.

"Are you starting some kind of garden with Doc in the caves? You know they're used for Tucker to masturbate in right?" Church quips, his voice breaking the short moment of silence between you two.

"Do you think I care what Tucker does on his own?" More importantly, do you care about what he sexually does on his own? No. No, you don't.

"More importantly did you just decide to pop up because of my little 'garden adventures' with Doc, or is there something else you needed." Your voice sounds snappy. The longer he is here, standing around like he's the second dumbest person on the fucking planet. The more you start to ache.

Nausea smacks you around nearly as fast as the rate Church's hand tries to reach for your own. To hold and caress in that soft little way he used to do. For someone that was such a bitch boy. Who whined, complained, and threw temper tantrums if things didn't go his way or his team brought him to temperamental suicidal thoughts. He could always melt some of you into his open palm like putty.

Some part of you yearns for that feel of warm skin on your skin. Nerves fizzle, your skin twitches and you swear you nearly close your eyes just when you're about to picture a smooth palm grace your fingers. Hell, you would even take his hand to your cheek. A soft hand, fingers brushing against your cheekbone. Those same fingers tangling into your hair or brushing a strand away from your features. Your nose twitches briefly and you nearly hallucinate the smell of gunpowder, metal, and faint cologne. It smells like Tucker.

Your eyes blink the unfocused look you have in your colored orbs. The temporary daydream you have about the one fucking man who touched you, and not managed to have flowers sprout in your lungs, has ended. What you could have pictured as smooth and soft pale-colored skin was replaced and shifted back to the see-through baby blue of Church.

It's disappointing. Not only disappointing but it's weird how desperate the human body is when they crave physical contact or warmth. Your own body has you craving Tucker rather than the man who's trying to figure out what in the hell is wrong with you. It seemed like if you could close your eyes once again, really squeeze them shut, and pretend like Church didn't even exist in front of you, you could imagine the rich and earthy tones of Lavernius Tucker.

What the fuck.

Instead, Church is standing in front of you, concern etched in his eyes behind the visor of his helmet, and it's only growing more in the zeros and ones that make up his pupils. A sharp inhale leaves your lungs. You wish you could crumble the same way as the way the flower folded so easily against Doc's palm. You wanted to be ended rather than deal with the sharp questioning eyes of your situation.

"I'm concerned about you, and I never get concerned about anyone. You should be lucky." You couldn't help the scoff that leaves your bleeding lungs. Well, soon to be bleeding lungs.

"Except for Texas, glad I share the same area of concern with an old flame." Church flinches, his digital frame laps in the way those fuzzy vertical lines ran over an old TV screen. Nostalgia.

"It's different with you. You don't infest my brain. You also don't beat the shit out of me whenever I breathe too loud next to you." A smile would crack behind his visor if he could muster it. It's forced at best, just to try and ease the scowl you have on your face. " Just---- . . are you, healing? Feeling better? We can call someone if Doc isn't help-"

"NO." You bark. The thought of involving more people in your disease is the nightmare you wish not to experience. The UNSC would take you under the knife and scalpel. They'd treat you like some freakish science experiment and run tests before they ever attempt to find some cure for you. They'd make you worse before they decided to be humane enough to make you feel better.

"No, I'm okay. Besides it's only been a couple of days at least, I'll heal. Besides you get worse before you get better, right?" Your voice softens around the edges. It's a sign that has Church exhaling heavily like he, himself, was in your shoes and stressed behind compare. His frame wanders closer, golden visor tilting to look closer at you.

"Right. Well enough of asking about you, aren't you going to give a fuck about me and my travels as being a full-on ghost?" The tension between you two drastically shifts, it's a lot lighter now that the subject changed. It's accepted quickly, you don't have it in you to be mad he's back to his old selfish self once again. Your mouth tilts up into a small smile.

Lungs wetly rattle with a chuckle you grant him. If 'ghosts' could experience warmth from somewhere in their cores; Church would feel it. He'd give anything to feel the small flutter in his heart again whenever he witnessed the soft crinkles in your eyes and nose when you laughed because of him. Tex never laughed around him like you did. It was always rough and demeaning when she laughed at him. Your laugh was a drink of water for a man who didn't know he was dying of thirst. Something something, poetic bullshit. He just liked it when you lit up in amusement around his presence. That's all.

"Let me hear it. Tell me all about where you've been and if you've scared the shit out of anyone that deserves it." Your eyes soften in the corners as you focus your gaze on his armor. The walls that were surrounding you have lowered enough to let your shoulders lower from around your ears. The knots that have formed in your neck and back ache less now when you two settle into your banter back and forth like you used to when Church prattles on about his adventures in his 'haunts' around Blood Gulch.

It feels perfectly normal for the first time in what feels like forever.

#red vs blue #rvb #rvb tucker #lavernius tucker #rvb x reader #leonard church x reader #leonard church #doc dufrense #rvb doc #flower petals and blood #rvb church x reader #rvb church #rvb fic

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doctorbunny · 4 months ago

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Amane's birthday flower tweet

(tweet links here)

Happy Birthday to everyone born today. Today is also Amane Momose from #MILGRAM's birthday. Her birth flower is Passiflora caerulea (tokeisou/Blue Passion Flower). The name "Passion flower" [tl note: passion as in "the passion/suffering of Christ, not enthusiasm] was used by Christian missionaries, it comes from the stamen's resemblence to the Crucifixion of Christ, with the 10 petals representing 10 Apostles. The passion flower's hanakotoba are "Faith", "Sacred Love" as well as "Religious fervour". Just so you know, this is simply an annecdote about the flower, it's not directly related to Amane's origins. Hanatokoba is purely allegorical. Simply put, just because the blue passion flower has this kind of backstory and hanakotoba, it doesn't mean Amane's religion is the same. Just added this supplement in case this is the first time you've had a run in with the Hanakotoba Guy and found it hard to understand. [Note: 花言葉おじさん Hanakotoba ojisan aka Hanakotoba Guy/Old Man Hanakotoba/Mr Hanakotoba is Yamanaka's nickname for himself when he does these things, he also used the term in Mikoto's birthday tweet]

本日お誕生日の方おめでとうございます。 #ミルグラムでは桃瀬遍の誕生日でもあります。誕生花はトケイソウ。十字架に��けられたキリストに似た雄しべと10人の使徒に見える花弁から別名「受難の花」と呼ばれ、キリスト教の布教に利用されました。花言葉は『信仰』『聖なる愛』そして『宗教的熱情』。ちなみにこの花に関してのエピソードなだけで、本人の出自と��直接関係ありません。花言葉はあくまで寓意です。噛み砕いてわかりやすく言うと、トケイソウってお花にそういうエピソードと花言葉があるってだけでアマネの信教がそうだって話じゃないよってことね。花言葉おじさんと邂逅するのが初めてだとわかりづらいだろうなと思って補足。