#I've been yearning so much i think I'm suffocating

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[jpmarvel90]

Dont Belong Part 3

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

Word Count: 7175

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: Y/n's infection is hitting her hard and she's still struggling with her feelings on her parents. Thankfully, Yelena is there to help cheer her up and she brings along a surprise that might just make everything feel better!

Nat: Mama Wanda: Mom

Y/n POV:

These last two days in the hospital have blurred together, a monotonous cycle of dull light and beeping machines. The weight of my infection drags on me, leaving me shivering one moment and sweating the next. I've spent far too much time staring at the ceiling, feeling trapped in this sterile room, yearning for the freedom of my life before the mission went sideways. The boredom is suffocating, and I feel like I'm losing pieces of myself with every passing hour.

I feel a constant gaze from my parents who rarely leave my side. It's strange to go from having them ignore you to being around all the time. Part of me feels like things were like they used to be when I was a full part of their family. The other part of me is screaming saying they don't mean it and will soon be gone again.

But today feels different, a whisper of hope fluttering in the air. I've been waiting for this moment, and when a familiar knock sounds at the door, my heart races with anticipation. "Can I come in?" Yelena's voice calls softly, and I can't suppress the grin that spreads across my face at the sound of her.

"Of course!" I call back, the eagerness spilling over in my tone. I sit up a little straighter, my heart pounding as I manage to prop myself up, using the button on the side of the bed to elevate myself.

The door swings open, and Yelena steps in, her expression a mix of relief and worry. Her golden hair catches the light, and I can see the telltale signs of sleepless nights etched under her eyes. "Y/n!" she breathes, rushing to my side, her voice trembling slightly as she takes my hand.

"Yelena! I'm so glad to see you." The words come out a little breathless, and I can't help the surge of emotion that washes over me. Just seeing her makes the room feel a little less confining, a little brighter.

"I can't believe you're awake," she says, her grip tightening around my fingers. "I was so scared. We all were. You had everyone worried sick." Her eyes shimmer with unshed tears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of my situation lifts just a bit. I don't think I've ever seen Yelena emotional like this before and it helps me realise how bad this whole situation is. She would never allow anyone to see her this vulnerable except for Mama.

"Hey, I'm okay. Well, sort of." I gesture weakly to the IV drip, the hospital bed, and the machines that surround me. "Just a little out of commission at the moment."

Yelena's smile is tentative but bright, yet it's overshadowed by the concern etched on her face. "I just hate seeing you hurt like this. You're my niece and I thought I would always be here to protect you." She shares honestly.

I give her hand a squeeze and share a warm smile when she finally looks up to me. "I can't be protected forever. Besides, I need you now. This recovery is going to be shit and I need you to help me when it gets too much." I reassure her and she nods. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here to help you through it all. Stark has even set me up on the same floor as you. So, I'll be there whenever you need me." She explains, making my heart warm with the thought of seeing her for a while to come.

"What about the widows?" I ask, knowing how much that means to her. "I've already been able to help so many. Now I need to help you. The others can wait. Besides, Kate can do the research on where we need to go next." She replies. "Who's Kate?" I ask, surprised to hear that she is working with someone else.

"Just a stray that Clint found. She's annoying, but oddly fun to be around. I think you'd like her. I'm sure she'll be around at some point to say hi." She explains with a shrug.

As the initial shock of seeing me seems to fade, I can see the corners of Yelena's mouth twitching upward, her eyes sparkling with mischief. It's as if she's flipping a switch, her demeanour transforming from worried auntie to the playful, teasing friend I know and love.

"You know," she starts, leaning back slightly and crossing her arms, "for someone who just woke up from a dramatic hospital nap, you look surprisingly like a zombie. I mean, I thought they had strict rules against bringing the undead into the hospital."

I let out a soft laugh, despite the ache in my chest. "Yeah, well, the food here isn't exactly helping my cause. I'm pretty sure I could survive off of those tasteless mushy meals for a week and still look better than this."

Yelena raises an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "Mushy meals? I'd expect you to be on some gourmet diet, considering all the special treatments they give you. I'm starting to think you should at least get some ice cream as a post-surgery reward." She chuckles. "Now that's the kind of thinking I can get behind. Have a word with Tony yeah?" I reply, feeling my spirits lift. "Ice cream sounds amazing. But what are the odds of that happening here?"

"Zero. But I'm prepared for this. I'll break you out of this place and take you for ice cream. You just need to give me the signal, and I'll burst in through the window like a stealthy ninja." She mimics a dramatic leap and landing in mama's pose. "See, I'll even do my best poser impersonation!" She playfully teases and she now starts to pretend to scale the invisible walls of my hospital room, her expression shifting to one of exaggerated seriousness. "You can count on me, Y/n. Ice cream shall be yours!"

I chuckle, the image of Yelena performing an acrobatic escape making the heaviness of the past days lift a little more. "What flavour are we talking here? I hope it's not vanilla. I have standards, you know."

"Vanilla? Please! I was thinking more along the lines of double chocolate fudge with extra sprinkles. And maybe a side of cherry sauce because why not go big, right?" She shares her thoughts whilst taking the seat next to me again. Her hand resting over mine. "Now you're speaking my language," I respond, shaking my head in mock seriousness. "If I'm risking a hospital breakout, it better be worth it." I laugh.

Yelena sits back in her seat, her chest still rising and falling as she laughs at her own hilariousness. She then looks back up at me. "But seriously, let's plan this for when you're feeling better. I'm not above a hospital escape." Her grin is contagious, and I can feel the tension in my shoulders easing. "Deal. Just don't forget the sprinkles."

As our laughter fills the room, I realize how much I've missed this lightness, this camaraderie. It's comforting to think about having Yelena by my side as I navigate the uncertainty of recovery and family dynamics.

But beneath the playful banter, there's an unspoken understanding between us, a bond that allows me to express my fears without words. With Yelena around, I feel like I can face whatever comes next, armed with humour and the knowledge that I'm not alone in this fight.

"Just promise me one thing," I say, my voice turning more serious again. "Anything," she replies, her gaze earnest. "Don't let me give up on the ice cream party, okay? No matter what happens."

"Never! I'll be your ice cream guardian," she declares, puffing out her chest with mock pride. "We will have that party, and it will be legendary. I will personally ensure that you have the sprinkles of life!"

With that promise hanging in the air, I know I can count on her not just for ice cream but for so much more as I navigate this complicated recovery. Even amidst the challenges, I feel a renewed sense of strength.

Though the playful atmosphere soon disappears as Yelena looks at me with a hurt look. "You know," Yelena begins cautiously, glancing around the room as if making sure no one else can hear, "I've been really worried about you. Seeing you like this. It's been hard. I didn't expect to walk in and see my Y/n looking so weak."

"Yeah, well, welcome to the aftermath of a bullet wound," I respond, a hint of sarcasm lacing my tone, but her expression remains sombre. "I mean it, Y/n," she says, her voice low. "I can handle all sorts of dangerous missions, but this... this was different. You're my niece. I've seen too many people get hurt, and it scares me to think about what could have happened if things went even more wrong."

"I know. I didn't want to worry you, but... it's not like I planned to get shot," I reply, my voice softening. "I was trying to do my best, and it went sideways."

"It's not your fault," Yelena reassures me, squeezing my hand gently. "But promise me you'll be careful. Don't rush back into missions. I can't go through this again. I thought I lost you."

"I'm not going anywhere yet. You've got me for a while longer," I say with a playful lilt, trying to lighten the atmosphere. Her smile falters, but she doesn't let go of my hand. "You have to promise me you won't get hurt again. I mean it. You don't have to be the hero all the time, you know." The gravity of her words sinks in, and I can feel a lump forming in my throat. "I thought I was doing well. I thought it was my chance to prove myself," I admit, my voice quieter now. "Prove yourself? You don't need to do that. You're already a part of this family," she insists, her voice firm but gentle.

But I can't shake the feeling of inadequacy, the bitter sting of doubt that lingers in the corners of my mind. "I don't feel like it," I confess, looking down at our hands intertwined. "Not after everything that's happened. My parents... I don't know. It's complicated." I begin tentatively, not sure how to express the turmoil inside me.

"They've hurt me for so long, and I'm still trying to wrap my head around why they suddenly seem to care. It feels like. I don't know, like they're trying to make up for lost time. They've been... around. Too around, if you know what I mean. They've been acting all concerned, but it feels more like an obligation."

I've felt torn about this since I've woke up. They're around all the time and trying to do everything that can to help me. But all I can think about is how much they have hurt me and if they would ever be able to make up for their past actions.

Yelena nods, her expression serious. "It's okay to be conflicted. They've done wrong by you, and you have every right to be angry. But if they're genuinely trying to change, maybe there's a chance for you to heal too." She suggests, similar to how Steve has these last two days.

"I don't want to forgive them just because they're here now. It feels disingenuous," I admit, frustration seeping into my voice. "I've been raised to believe that actions speak louder than words, and I need to see real change." I state irritated. "Then hold them to that standard," she urges, her voice steady. "Don't let them slide by just because they're your parents. You deserve more than that." She iterates.

"I guess I'm just afraid of being disappointed again," I whisper, feeling a shiver of vulnerability wash over me. It hurt so much when I slowly seemed to disappear from their lives. I don't think I could experience that again. "What if they go back to ignoring me once I'm healed? What's the point of this?" I share, tears stinging my eyes.

Yelena leans closer, her brow furrowing as she studies my face. "That's not fair to you. They hurt you, and it's okay to be angry about that. But you deserve to feel loved and cared for. You're so much stronger than you give yourself credit for." "Stronger?" I scoff lightly, but inside I feel a flicker of hope. "I barely survived my first mission and ended up in a hospital bed. That doesn't feel strong."

"Strength isn't just about fighting, Y/n. It's about surviving, too. You survived, and you're still here. You're still fighting." Her voice softens, and I can see her eyes glistening with tears. I nod slowly, her words resonating with me. "You're right. I just don't want to get hurt like that again. I thought joining SHIELD would mean I'd finally be seen, but now... it feels like a mess."

Yelena shakes her head, frustration evident in her expression. "No. You're not a mess. You're human. They need to step up and show you that you matter, but that doesn't mean you have to accept their love without question. You get to set the boundaries. You get to decide what you want from them moving forward. But I do believe that you have to give them a chance to show you that they've changed." She shares, taking me by surprise.

"It was years Yelena. How can I move to just forgive them for everything that's happened? Just because they're here for my recovery, doesn't mean it makes up for everything that they've done." I raise my voice getting frustrated that no one seems to understand the depth of how much this has affected me.

She thinks for a moment before speaking up. "I know I can't understand the pain they caused you. When I heard about what they did to you, I was ready to kick both of their asses. But I've seen this determination in them. Especially Nat. I just don't want you to let the anger eat you alive. You deserve more than that. You deserve to heal, not just physically, but emotionally, too." Her words resonate deep within me. I can feel the weight of my resentment pressing against my chest, threatening to suffocate me. "It's just hard, Yelena. I don't know if I can trust them again. What if they just go back to how things were?"

"That's the risk, but it's also a chance for something better. Maybe this could be the start of a new chapter for you all," she replies, her voice filled with hope. "I mean, how many people get a second chance to rewrite their story? You can make it count." She tries to reason with me. "Or I could just end up disappointed again," I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

"Hey, no one said life was easy," she counters, leaning forward, her tone shifting to a playful challenge. "You've faced worse. You survived a bullet wound, for Christ's sake! How about you take that strength and channel it into something more positive? Like confronting your parents." She suggests. "Confront them?" I echo, feeling a knot of anxiety tighten in my stomach.

"Yeah! You're a badass. You fought off those Hydra agents; you can fight for your own happiness." she encourages. "Don't let anyone else dictate your worth. Not your parents, not Hydra. No one."

"I'll think about it," I concede, knowing that deep down, she's right. Maybe facing my parents isn't just about them; it's about taking control of my own narrative, my own healing. "Good," Yelena replies, her smile brightening the room once more. "And remember, no matter what you decide, I'll be right here, cheering you on. We're in this together, ice cream and all."

As I gaze into her determined eyes, I feel the flicker of hope igniting within me. Yelena is right. I can't let the past dictate my future. Perhaps I can find a way to reclaim my voice, my choices. And with her by my side, I feel like I can face whatever comes next.

__________

The soft hum of the machines is a constant companion, a backdrop to the quiet conversation happening in the room. Mama and mom sit nearby, each offering their own version of silent support. Mama, with her usual calm demeanour, sits crossed legged in the chair near the foot of my bed. Her posture is relaxed, but her sharp eyes betray her constant vigilance. She notices everything, always has, and I can feel her observing me like she's looking for something beneath the surface. Mom on the other hand, has stationed herself at my side, like aways. She's less fussy, thankfully, but still has to be close, like I'm going to disappear if she's not.

Sometimes, I find the silence unbearable compared to their constant and sometimes suffocating fussing over me. I feel on edge, like they're waiting for me to talk to them. I think back to what Yelena said about confronting them and doing it on my terms. But I want to do it in the right frame of mind, and at the moment, this infection is still kicking my ass.

Mama breaks the silence as her well trained eyes watch me for a while. "How are you feeling Y/n?" She asks, her eyes narrowing slightly as she studies me, as though she's trying to catch me out if I say the wrong thing. "A bit better." I respond with a slight nod, my words carefully measured. I don't want to give too much away. Not about how I'm feeling and especially not about the swirl of doubt that's been growing inside of me since the incident.

"Are you sure? You're sweating." She points out, sitting up. Mom goes to reach for my forehead, but quickly retreats her hand. She's been trying really hard not to be too much and I'm grateful for that. I should have known that she could see straight through me and notice the discomfort I'm in. "Just a little." I admit. "Is there anything we can do? Would you like some water? Or we could change the quilt for a blanket if that would help?" Mom suggests.

I think for a moment before giving in, knowing that I am burning up a little too quickly. "The blanket would be better if that's ok." I respond, earning a warm smile from mom as she stands and moves to grab the blanket as mama takes the quilt and folds it up. "Better?" Mom asks as the thin blanket now rests over my legs. "Yes. Thank you." I quietly respond.

"You're being strong, but you don't have to be." Mom says, her voice soft but persuasive. Her green eyes watching me too closely. "We're here for you." She states. Something I've heard more these last few days than I have in my whole like.

I offer a tight smile. "I appreciate that." I reply, but there's something hollow in my words, something they both notice. I see it in the flicker of mama's eyes, in the slight frown mom tries to hide. They want me to let them in, to trust them. But I can't. No right now.

The knock on the door interrupts the thick atmosphere. As we all look to the door, a smile grows on my face as Yelena pushes open the door, bursting in to the room with her usual energy. Her blonde hair bounces around her shoulders as she strides in, a smirk on her lips. She's a welcome distraction from the unspoken suspicions swirling in my mind.

Behind her, there's someone new. A brunette with wide eyes and a slightly awkward smile follows in her wake, holding a small bouquet of flowers in her hands. It's clear she doesn't quite know what to do with them as she shifts nervously, standing next to Yelena like she's trying to figure out how to fit in. "This is Kate." Yelena says with a grin, motioning to the brunette with a flourish. "Oh, right. The annoying stray Clint picked up." I reply with a grin, my eyes flicking between Yelena and the new girl. I feel a small flutter of nerves in my chest, but I push it aside, trying to appear casual.

Kate gasps dramatically, placing her hand over her chest as if wounded. "Annoying stray? Really? Is that how Yelena described me?" She shoots Yelena a mocking glare, then turns to me with a playful twinkle in her eyes. "Don't listen to her. I'm delightful, I promise." She smirks.

There is something instantly disarming about her. Her smile is infectious, and I find myself grinning back before I can stop myself. "I'll be the judge of that." I say, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Kate's laugh is light. "Well, I guess I better make a good impression then huh. I'm Kate. Nice to finally meet you."

As if she suddenly becomes aware of the other two people in the room, Kate suddenly becomes a lot more nervous as she steps forward, holding out the flowers a little awkwardly. "I, uh, thought some flowers might brighten up the place." She says her voice light but tinged with nervousness. "If you don't like them, I can... I don't know, take them back or something."

I can't help but smile at the sudden awkwardness, feeling some of the tension ease from my shoulders. There's something captivating about her, a clumsy sincerity that feels genuine. Like she's not trying to be anything other than who she is. If's refreshing, in contrast to the more guarded and calculated vibes in the room.

"No, no. They're nice. I love them." I say, accepting the flowers with a smile. "Thank you." I say gratefully. Mom steps in to help, taking the flowers from Kate and placing them on the beside table. She flashes Kate a smile, but I can't help but notice the way her eyes flick between me and Kate, like she's sizing up the interaction. Her protective nature is sweet, but right now it feels like an intrusion, like she's watching too closely.

Yelena of course, can't let the moment go without making it awkward. "Oh great. The two of you are already making goo-goo eyes at each other." She says with a snort, dropping herself into a chair next to mama with a dramatic sigh. "I should have seen this coming." She says to her sister. "Goo-goo eyes?" I sputter, my cheeks burning. "Yelena, we literally just met." Kate for her part, looks just as flustered, running a hand through her hair as she laughs awkwardly. "Yeah wow, not even five minutes in and I'm already being roasted. Thanks Yelena." Yelena has a mischievous grin as she gives Kate a thumbs up. "Hey, I call it like I see it." She shrugs.

I glance at Kate again, and despite the teasing, there's something about her that puts me at ease. Something feels unguarded in a way that I haven't felt around my parents lately. She seems real, no hidden motives, no unreadable layers. Just Kate, awkward and charming in her own way.

Mama raises an eyebrow at Yelena's comment but stays quiet, observing as always. Mom though let's out a soft chuckle, her eyes softening for a moment as she looks between Kate and me. "I think it's sweet." She says, but there's an undercurrent to her words. A subtle probing as if she's gauging how close I'm willing to let this new person get.

I shift uncomfortably in my bed, trying to shake off the unease. "Kate seems nice." I say, trying to keep things light. "But you don't need to start planning a wedding already." I joke, earning a loud laugh from Kate.

Yelena leans back in her chair, a satisfied smirk on her face. "Well, you're already doing better than most people who meet Y/n. She doesn't usually warm up to strangers this fast."

"Yelena." I mutter, shooting her a look, but the playful banter is enough to make me feel a bit more like myself again. Even if the tension with my parents still lingers beneath the surface.

Mama exchanges a glance with mom, and I can feel the weight of their unspoken thoughts. They're both protective, maybe even a little suspicious of the new dynamic. I know they're trying to look out for me, but their watchful eyes feel too heavy right now and to be honest, they don't have the right to have any thoughts on this right now. They've barely been my parents for the last couple of years. They don't suddenly have a say in who I'm friends with.

"Well, at least you brought someone who isn't here to lecture me about being shot." I tease, giving Yelena a pointed look. Kate grins clearly relieved the conversation has shifted. "I'm just here for the heist planning." She smiles, her tone light. "Whatever Yelena has you roped into, I'm in." I join in the joke. Yelena perks up at that. "Oh, you have no idea what you've signed up for Bishop. This one here," she jerks her thumb at me, "has a history with getting into trouble."

Kate moves to take the seat next to me as both my parents decide to give us some space and grab some lunch. I'm grateful for them being able to read the room, but I notice the observant and narrow gaze of mama as she passes by Kate. I'm pretty sure I see Kate gulp a little which makes me laugh lightly.

"So," Kate asks, crossing her arms. "what's the plan for today? Ice cream, hospital jailbreak or maybe both?" She smiles, making the butterflies in my stomach flutter. "Oh, Yelena's already promised me ice cream, but she keeps postponing the jailbreak." I tease, glancing over at Yelena who's pretending not to listen.

Kate lets out a dramatic sigh, shaking her head. "Typical. She makes all these grand promises, and then when it comes time to actually execute..." Kate starts teasingly before Yelena speaks up. "I'm literally right here." She complains, throwing her hands up in mock exasperation. "And for the record. I would have busted you out, but your mother threatened to remove all the mac and cheese from the building if I did." She admits with a child like huff.

"Still scared of mama huh?" I smirk, earning a harsh stare from my aunt. "No!" She defends loudly. "Well, maybe when it comes down to you." She admits quietly, making Kate and I laugh. "Well, well. I've finally discovered the one thing Yelena Belova is scared of." Kate torments Yelena. "Yeah, well don't forget that you're the one scared of me." Yelena points out giving her fiercest glare. Something that makes Kate shrink back into her seat. "Yep. You're right. Sorry." She apologises goofily, making me smile even wider.

There's a beat of silence, but it's not awkward. It's easy, comfortable, and I'm surprised at how quickly I've warmed up to Kate. She's sharp, funny and there's a confidence about her that makes me feel more at ease. I can tell she's someone who doesn't take life too seriously, but there's a genuine warmth underneath the sarcasm.

Yelena is watching us again, her arms crossed, and her eyebrow arched like she's trying to figure out how this is going to play out. "You know, I might actually enjoy watching this." She says, her voice laced with amusement. "You two are way too cute. It's like watching a rom-com in real time." She smirks

"Okay, enough of that." I say quickly, feeling my face begin to flush, this time not due to my infection! I glance to Kate who is grinning like she's in on some joke that I'm not, and I can't help but laugh. "Yelena, don't you have some Widow business to attend to?" I question hopefully. "Nope." She says cheerfully, popping the 'p' for emphasis. "I'm on babysitting duty today." She smiles proudly whilst I just roll my eyes. Maybe I do want my parents back right now!

Kate leans closer to me, lowering her voice conspiratorially. "Does she always talk like that, or is it just for us?" She questions. "Always." I whisper back, earning a glare from Yelena. "Alright, alright." Yelena says, pretending to be offended, but her eyes twinkle with amusement. "I can see when I'm not wanted. I'll give you two some space. Try not to flirt too much while I'm gone." She teases.

"And you," she stops in front of Kate, a stern look on her face. "If she so much as flinches you call the nurse. I will have your head if anything happens to her." She warns her lowly. Kate just nods, gulping at the threat. "P-promise." She stutters. "Good. Text me if you need anything. Now have fun being all awkward and flirty." She smirks as she saunters out of the room.

Suddenly, it's just the two of us, the room quieter but still filled with that easy, playful energy. I glance over at Kate, feeling a bit of awkwardness settle in. But it's the good kind that makes my heart race a little.

"So, what now?" I ask, trying to sound casual? Kate shrugs, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "I don't know. I mean, we could plot that jailbreak. Or maybe..." She pauses, her eyes meeting mine. "We could just hang out and get to know each other a little better." She suggests.

There's a warmth in her gaze, something that makes my heart flutter, and for the first time in a while, I feel a sense of excitement. Not just for the ice cream or the jokes, but the possibility of something new. Something good. And maybe, just maybe, I'm ready for it.

Nat's POV:

My sharp eyes have always picked up on the subtle shift in a person's demeanour, the tiniest details that others overlook. Right now, I'm studying Kate Bishop. She's awkward sure. A little too wide-eyed and jittery, holding onto those flowers like she's afraid they might combust. There's a clumsy sincerity to her that I can't decide if I trust yet. Y/n though... Y/n is smiling. Laughing even, and I haven't seen that kind of lightness in her face in far too long. Still, I remain cautious.

I watch as Y/n teases Kate, the easy flow of their banter rolling off Y/n's tongue without the weight that usually accompanies her words. It's almost as if she's forgotten, if only for a few minutes, about the turmoil she's been going through. And while I want that for her, there's a part of me that can't let go of my protective instincts. That part that wants to dig deeper into who Kate Bishop really is, figure out if she's worthy of my daughter's trust.

Because Y/n doesn't let people in easily. Wanda and I have made that even harder for her now. To be able to trust is a difficult thing. I don't want to see her hurt more than she currently is. Not after everything that I've caused.

Wanda's voice pulls me out of my thoughts as she steps up beside me, her arms crossed but her expression soft, watching the interaction with a gentler gaze than I have. "She looks happy." Wanda murmurs. Her voice has that quiet thoughtful tone that always means she's been observing the situation for longer than I realised.

I nod, though I don't take my eyes off of Y/n. "She does." I admit reluctantly. Wanda notices this and quickly makes up an excuse of going to get some lunch and we quickly exit the room. Probably much to Y/n's delight!

"You don't like it?" Wanda asks, her lips twitching into a small smile. She can read me too easily, knows exactly what I'm feeling even when I try to keep it to myself. We hover in the corridor outside of Y/n's room as I sigh. "I didn't say that." I glance towards my wife, raising an eyebrow.

"No, but I know you." She chuckles softly, and it's a warm, comforting sound that cuts through the tension I've been holding in my chest. "Nat, you don't trust her yet." It's not a question, and I don't answer right away. Instead, I look back through the window into Y/n's room. My eyes falling to the pair of them. Y/n has leaned a little closer to Kate, her laughter soft, her smile genuine. Kate's making some grand gesture with her hands, her enthusiasm endearing in its awkwardness. Okay, I think. Maybe she's not so bad.

But still. "I just don't know her." I say finally, my voice low. Wanda hums in understanding, her gaze never leaving Y/n. "But look at her, Nat. She's the happiest we've seen her in a long while." She points out. I know she's right. Y/n hasn't had this kind of lightness in her eyes since the incident. Even in the days leading up to it, she was closed off, burdened by the trauma we had caused her. I couldn't do anything to help her, I couldn't fix what I had broken. And now here comes this Kate Bishop, breezing in like a ray of sunshine, making Y/n smile like it's the easiest thing in the world.

I sigh, crossing my arms tighter over my chest. "Maybe." I admit after a pause, my voice quieter now, more reflective. "Maybe Kate is what Y/n needs right now." Wanda turns her head to look at me fully, a surprised look on her face, but she soon gives me a soft knowing smile. "That's not easy for you to say."

"No, it's not." I say honestly. "But I can't ignore how she's acting. It's good to see her like this." I glance to Yelena who's still grinning like a proud instigator of all this chaos. Y/n has her laughing too, which is aways a good sign. "And Kate, she's not what I expected." I share.

There's an awkward clumsiness about the girl sure. But underneath that, there's a kindness in her eyes, something genuine that makes me reconsider my initial assessment. She's not just some reckless kid, despite the reputation. She cares and that means something.

Wanda places a gentle hand on my arm, squeezing lightly. "It's ok to let your guard down a little." I chuckle under my breath at her words. "I don't think I'm wired that way, Wanda." I reply. "I know." She laughs softly. "But maybe you can try. Kate isn't here to hurt Y/n. She's just, being a friend. Maybe that's exactly what Y/n needs right now." I nod, though my instincts still bristle at the idea of lowering my walls completely. "You're right. But I'm not going to stop being protective. Not after we failed her so badly." My gaze hardens just a fraction. "I can't."

Wanda's expression softens further, understanding in her eyes. "No one's asking you to stop protecting her Nat. Just, give this a chance. What ever it might be." She pleads. I look at Y/n again. She's relaxed in a way I haven't seen her in months. The tightness in her shoulders is gone, replaced by something lighter, freer. And I realise that I'm not the only one trying to protect her. Maybe, in her own way, Kate is too.

"I'll give it a chance." I mutter quietly. "But I'll be watching." Wanda smiles knowingly. "I wouldn't expect anything less." She says as both our gazes fall to our daughter. Just then, Kate says something that makes Y/n burst out laughing, the sound so full of life that it catches me off guard. My heart clenches that it's taken this long. That Wanda and I created an environment where she felt like she no longer belonged in this family.

I know it's going to take time for her to even consider forgiving us. But I know that it's important that she has other people around her that she can talk to and have fun with. If it's just Wanda and me she'll become completely closed off. Maybe being around Kate is exactly what she needs. It doesn't mean I'll let my guard down completely. Not yet. I will always protect her. That's what mother's do. Even if I haven't proven my right to that title in a long time.

_________

As Wanda and I step back into our home, the familiar chaos of our boys welcomes us like a warm embrace. The scent of something sweet wafts through the air, mixing with the sharp, clean smell of wood polish from our recent cleaning efforts. I can hear the muffled sounds of laughter and playful shouting emanating from the living room, and it brings a smile to my face despite the heaviness still clinging to my heart.

Tommy and Billy have been asking about their sister non-stop over the last few days, and every time, I see the worry deepen in their little faces. They've felt the weight of Y/n's absences as much as we have, maybe more.

"Hey, you two!" I call out, my voice breaking through the din. Almost immediately, Tommy and Billy come barrelling into the hallway, their faces lighting up like it's Christmas morning. They launch themselves at us, wrapping their arms around my waist and Wanda's legs in a tangle of limbs and giggles. It's a comforting noise, one that momentarily pulls me away from the weight of the world outside these walls.

"Mom! Mom! How's Y/n? Is she okay?" Tommy's voice rises with excitement, his wide eyes sparkling with a mixture of hope and anxiety. I exchange a glance with Wanda, who stands beside me, her own expression tinged with a protective softness. It's a moment like this that reminds me just how much the boys adore their sister.

"She's still unwell, sweetheart," I say gently, kneeling down to meet Tommy's gaze at eye level. "But she's doing better than she was. She'll be home soon." I try to sound optimistic, but the knot in my stomach betrays me. I know how much they want to see Y/n, and how hard it's been for them to understand why she isn't here with us.

"Soon? Like tomorrow?" Billy asks, bouncing on his toes, his dark hair flopping into his eyes. There's a slight hopefulness in his voice, and it makes my heart ache, knowing they're so eager for good news. Wanda steps in beside me, placing a hand on Tommy's shoulder, her touch gentle and reassuring. "She's going to need a few more days in the hospital, honey. She's got to rest and get better first." I watch the way Wanda's eyes soften when she speaks to the boys, how she has an innate ability to make even the hardest truths sound a little lighter.

"But her birthday is coming up!" Tommy exclaims suddenly, his expression shifting from concern to realization. "We have to make it special for her! Can we plan a perfect birthday for her in her hospital room?" His enthusiasm is infectious, and a flicker of warmth spreads in my chest at his determination. Billy nods vigorously, his face lighting up with ideas. "Yeah! We can decorate it and bring her cake! She'll love that!" The energy in the room shifts, and I can see both boys imagining the decorations they might hang, the cake they might bake, and the joy they hope to bring their sister.

"That's a great idea," I agree, feeling a swell of pride as I watch them brainstorm. "But we need to wait until she's feeling a bit better, okay? We don't want to overwhelm her." Tommy frowns slightly, his brow furrowing in thought. "When can we see her?" His voice is earnest, full of longing. I can hear the worry tucked beneath his words, and it tugs at my heart. "Yeah, we want to see Y/n!" Billy adds, his expression mirroring his brother's eagerness.

Wanda glances at me, and I can feel the weight of our responsibilities bearing down. "We'll take you to see her in the morning," I promise, seeing their faces light up with hope. "But remember, she might be tired and need to rest, so we have to be gentle with her."

"Yay!" Tommy cheers, his voice ringing through the hallway, and Billy joins in, practically bouncing on his heels with excitement. Their joy is palpable, a reminder of the happiness that can still exist even amidst uncertainty and pain.

Just then, Steve steps out from the kitchen, having been quietly observing the boys from a distance. His presence brings a calmness to the chaos, and I find comfort in knowing he's here. "Hey, how are you two doing?" he asks, his eyes twinkling as he takes in the scene of our little family reunion.

"Mama and mom just told us that Y/n is coming home soon!" Tommy exclaims, practically vibrating with excitement, his hands flailing as he gestures animatedly.

"Yeah, and we're planning the best birthday for her ever!" Billy adds, his voice bubbling over with enthusiasm, his cheeks flushed with energy.

"Sounds like you're all set for a celebration," Steve says with a smile, nodding approvingly. He leans against the wall, crossing his arms as he watches the boys with fondness. "I'll leave you to it. Just let me know if you need anything." He shoots us a knowing look, one that acknowledges the weight of what we're dealing with, before stepping back into the kitchen.

As Wanda and I stand there, our boys filled with excitable plans, I can't help but feel a mix of gratitude and dread. Gratitude for the moments of joy, the laughter that fills our home, and the love that binds us together. Sadness that our family isn't complete and dread for the challenges still ahead. We're still on shaky ground, still trying to piece together the remnants of our family after everything that's happened.

But for now, I push those worries aside. I take a deep breath, inhaling the comforting scent of our home, and look around at the smiling faces of my children. "Okay, let's start planning for this birthday celebration!" I suggest, my heart lifting at the idea of planning something special for Y/n.

"We need balloons. And streamers!" Tommy states excitedly, his eyes bright with ideas. "And cake!" Billy insists, his mouth already watering at the thought. "What kind should we get her?"

As we brainstorm, I can't help but smile. We'll take this one step at a time. Tomorrow, we'll bring the boys to see Y/n, and hopefully, we'll be one step closer to bringing her home where she belongs. Hopefully, she'll see that we plan to be the best parents to her and in time she'll forgive us. I feel a flicker of hope, ignited by the boys' excitement and determination to make their sister smile, to show her that she is loved and missed.

"Let's get started," I say, my voice full of warmth as I gather them into a huddle, my heart swelling with pride. Together, we can do this. Together, we can find a way to help Y/n heal, and maybe even begin to mend the cracks that have formed in our family.

Taglist: @reggierizzoli @ordelixx @mousetheorist @oh-thats-cute @bstvst @waiqui @fxckmiup @kosmichs1 @theprincipality

[jarofstyles]

prince harry and common girl lover (best friends since childhood) + “we can’t keep hiding like this”

OH YES!!!! A bit of forbidden love.

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------

The wind billowed the edge of the blanket they laid on, hiding underneath the willow tree as the sun got a bit lower in the sky. Being wrapped in Harry's arms was the most safe she ever felt, despite the fact it was the most dangerous place to be. His heart thumped steadily against her cheek, fingers running over the opposite as she felt his eyes burning a hole into her.

"We can't keep hiding like this." His voice rasped, lips turned downward. "I can't handle it anymore, Petal. I've been trying to find ways to be alright with hiding how much of my heart that you own but I keep hitting a wall. I believe it's because something is telling me I shouldn't hide you." He gently ran his knuckle over the bridge of her nose. "I want to tell them. Everyone."

Y/N's eyes burned as she closed them, trying to control the shaky exhale she released. It didn't work. She knew he was an optimist, her beautiful sunshine prince, but he had too much to lose. She couldn't be selfish with him, not when the entire kingdom would rely on him one day. "You know we shouldn't, Harry. You've been promised to someone else since the day you were noticed in your mother's belly." It was hard to control her voice, the weakness of it giving it away to Harry that she was struggling.

Nudging her up, he cupped the side of her face and thumbed over the high round of her cheek. Eyes scanned her face, taking in her slightly wobbly bottom lip and the glaze over her eyes that wrecked him. It shouldn't be this difficult. He shouldn't have to hide the person he loved with his entire being, so much so that she consumed him. He knew his mother would understand, but his father would be resistant. He would tell him that a future king had to make decisions they didn't like, and he would need to abide by the arrangement.

"I want to marry you, Petal." He whispered, connecting their lips at the end of the word. It was a pained kiss, one he was trying to melt into softness. Take away the brittle edges and file them down smoothly, let her feel the way he did. His sweet girl was so afraid, so nervous of what would become of them but Harry couldn't fathom a world without her at his side. "I want you to lay next to me at night, I want your hand in mine, your lips to only ever feel the shape of my own. I crave you every single second you are away from me. Don't you understand? How I yearn for you, I ache. Not just to be inside of you, but to be with you. To listen to your breaths as you sleep, just knowing that you're there." He swallowed thickly, nudging his nose against her own and took another kiss. Harder this time, a harsh breath leaving his nose as he pulled her, moving her dress so she could straddle his lap.

"My love, my sweet, my Petal. Please... allow me to take the risk." He pleaded. "Allow me to tell them of us, let me take the punishments if need be. I will do anything for you." His words were whimpered as he pressed frantic kisses to her lips, her cheeks, her forehead. "I feel like I'm going insane. As the day of the engagement party grows closer, I feel the walls of the castle getting smaller. I feel suffocated. The only time I can breathe is with you." His hands clutched her close, almost as if to prevent her from slipping through his fingers.

"Oh, Harry." She whispered sadly, watching his eyes water. It was unlike him, her sunshine prince. He was so bright, so warm. To see the storm clouds settle over the sun was alarming and she hated the sight. It wasn't right. "Do you think I don't feel the same? That I'm not physically ill at the idea of you bedding someone other than me, even if it is only to provide an heir? Do you think I don't cry in my bed after I leave the sparkling stars and you, wishing I could crawl back to you? But I feel so selfish." She pecked his nose, letting their foreheads rest together. "So, so selfish. What if they strip your title? What if they banish you? What if it's forced regardless and there's a rift between you and your family? I cannot bear the idea of ruining your life. I can't take the sunshine away from you."

The world was quiet. The birds chirped and the branches moved, leaves rustling in the wind, but the only sound they could hear was each others breaths and their own heartbeats in their ears.

"I would let them." He whispered after a moment. "I would let them take it all away from me before I let them take you. I don't think you grasp how much you mean to me. You are my heart." His eyes burned as he looked at her. "I would run with you, I would find us somewhere and build a life with you. Nothing else matters more than you." He sniffled, pressing his lips back against her and laying repetitive kisses to her lips. It was hard to convey just how much he truly loved her. How she had his heart in her hands and his should wrapped around her finger.

"Harry..." She laughed through a tear, looking down at the hand holding her waist tight. "I hope you know I feel the same for you. You're what I need." Her fingers brushed the hair that had fallen into his face, the soft curls unfairly highlighted caramel in the sunlight that bled through the leaves. He was inhumanly handsome. "I'm afraid for you."

"I'm afraid for myself if I don't admit my love for you. I can't be trapped in a loveless marriage when I have a love. The greatest lover there is. I want children with you, I want you by my side. Whether I'm king or not, having you would be my biggest accomplishment." He meant every word. Every beat of his heart belonged to her. "I'm going to tell them. I'm going to make you my wife, regardless of the cost. All I'll ever need is you."

[flightnight]

Robin and the suffocating horror of being loved by Sunday.

If there is a person Sunday owes a direct, open, personal, verbal apology to, it's Robin.

Let's face it. He deliberately hurt her in one of the worst ways possible. The way only the person she truly loved could. If there is anything Sunday has been shown to be really good at, it's striking people where it hurts the most, causing the maximum amount of pain. (case in point - if there is a second person Sunday should apologize to, it's Aventurine).

They both knew that the whole "a weak bird should be kept in a cage" metaphor is about her. They knew each other's opposing views on this question (strictly speaking, it boils down to 'should Robin be allowed to be free by her brother'. And if that's a disagreement you have with somebody in your life, run.) Sunday knows that her freedom is one of the most important things in Robin's life. She traveled around the universe, she visited war zones, she saw real life, she's extremely strong (and the idea of her brother seeing her as too weak should be so soul-crushing to her), she survived her injury and became stronger through it. She knew that her freedom might cost her her voice or even her life, and she still chose it. She's all about freedom. She sings about freedom. Even her splash art is her breaking out of a golden cage.

And knowing all of it, he still chose to take her freedom away. Because no matter what she did, she was still too weak in his eyes.

There are some points that are ironic but also make it so much worse:

1. The perfect dream he gave her was about how they nurtured the wounded bird to health so that it could return to the sky. He knew how much she wanted to be free. He knew what he was doing (I presume that all the other people's dreams were created automatically, but I'm sure he was personally involved in creating Robin's dream).

So he knew that most of all she wanted her brother to allow her to be free. And instead of doing it, he captured her and gave her an illusion of that.

2. She was the first who woke up. She knew that him allowing her to be free was impossible.

Imagine living with the knowledge that your brother respecting your autonomy and allowing you your freedom is impossible.

"Robin: I woke up for the same reason as all of you. In the dream, I experienced something that could never occur in reality…" "Robin: …The illusion was so impossibly blissful that I realized it was just a dream."

She literally realized that she can't be happy with Sunday around. She was happy in her dream. That's why she woke up. How horrifying is that?

3. She was the most important person for him to keep in the "cage". And yet she was the first who woke up. Was he about to change the "perfect dream" for her if he were to capture her again, to make it more realistic? So that she didn't escape again? Changing it to him not letting the bird free but keeping it locked up forever? Thus turning her supposed perfect dream into his perfect dream? Making the scenario doubly nightmarish?

4. Despite all of this, she was still prepared to sacrifice anything for his freedom. Unfortunately, the writers don't allow her to be a person around him. Her role is to smile and be agreeable, so she isn't allowed to say or even think anything about this biggest betrayal in her life.

And of course we can't inconvenience Sunday by the realization of what he's done to his beloved sister. No apology, no thank you. But it's a topic for another post.

5. And now he gets to enjoy what Robin yearned for - freedom. You can't be more free in the world of HSR than on board the Express. As Welt said, "Freedom is the only answer the Nameless can offer. I'm glad that Penacony needs it."

By the way, I've heard that Robin gave Jade the info that helped her wrestle Penacony back under the IPC's control in exchange for Sunday.

So his freedom basically cost Penacony its freedom.

But we can't have him realize that. Remember, no inconvenience. We don't want character development to result from that or something.

Meanwhile, Robin is more than ever roped into the Penacony business . She can't drop everything and leave these children in Dreamflux Reef and all the people relying on her. But that's the consequence that comes with being kind, compassionate, and helpful. It can cost you your freedom in a way.

---

But he loves her, right? He did it all out of love, for her safety! She should be grateful (that's called gaslighting, by the way). Let's not talk about the horrifying things an older relative who has absolute power over the person can do to them, justifying it with "love". It hits too close to home for too many people.

Unfortunately, the best example of how he still loves her I've heard is about how he's a fan of her songs (has he ever realized that he nearly cost her her voice?) That's cute, I guess? But she's an interstellar superstar; she has millions of fans, she doesn't need another one, she needs a brother who respects her basic human rights at the very least.

In a way it makes the "bird in a cage" metaphor even worse: "I don't care what you want. I like your voice. You nearly lost it due to your injury, so I'll keep you locked down forever." By the way, she nearly lost her voice from him messing with Order and Harmony. Did he expect that she'll be able to sing for him when imprisoned in Ena's dream?

And he was probably not even her only fan who dreamt of locking her up forever in safety and comfort because he "loved" her. Think about it.

[reiyldx]

Not Another Song About Love

Lilia Vanrouge x Reader

Notes : G/N! Reader, war era General Lilia, angst

Let it out.

Been building up, you better let it out.

Say everything that you've been meaning now.

I want it to burn.

Lilia felt tired. There was an aching sensation in his heart, one that tore away at him. He wished he could stop thinking about them. He wished he could stop thinking about their voice, their lips, the shape of their eyes and the way the corner of their eyes crinkled when they laughed. Excruciating pain was only to set foot in a most sultry manner in the depths of his heart.

When you tell me I'm such a wreck.

It isn't easy cleaning up your mess.

It's like I've got a rope around my neck.

She says it won't hurt.

It was so difficult for him, always being the one to look after others, cleaning up their messes. But Y/N, they were the one to always take care of him. Meleanor had said love wouldn't hurt, that Lilia should just embrace his feelings. But it felt as if he would suffocate from it any second. He couldn't love anyone. He wasn't capable of it. He was just a filthy, useless bat. A lowlife whose magic was polluted. He could not possibly be in a beautiful feeling such as love. He could never deign himself worthy to be in love, what he had was probably obsession. After all, a pure thing like love could never exist in his heart. He was lower than the low. The senators had never failed to remind him of that.

But everything you do makes my heart race.

I can't even think straight.

Is this just a game to you?

Reruns every night.

It's always the same fight.

And I think you should know.

He was probably just a game to Y/N. They probably didn't even care about him much. Why would they? He was just a mere commoner, a mere soldier. They were so much more. They were the radiant light, he was nothing in comparison, other than perhaps the annoyingly persistent shadows that inked the bright meadows with a murky black. Whenever they touched him softly and bandaged him, and cheered him on with their gentle and unyielding words. They were probably either pitying him or playing around with his pathetic self for a brief moment. They couldn't possibly love him. It was impossible.

I hate your touch, I hate your mouth.

I can't stand every single word that falls out.

But you're all that I've been dreaming of.

This is not another song about love.

Lilia wished to hear more of their sweet compliments, even if he did not deserve it. He yearned for more. He wished that he was the one they held in their embrace. He wished he was the one Y/N saw and called their love. He hated feeling this way, and yet he couldn't help himself. Lilia wanted himself in their loving arms, in their life, in their home. If they allowed him. It was his one and only earnest desire.

I hate your voice, I hate your lips.

I hate how bad I wanna steal your kiss.

But you're all that I've been dreaming of.

This is not another song about love.

Lilia often found himself staring at their lips, wondering how they would taste. Wondering whether their lips would be soft or slightly chapped. He dreamt often of a life where they loved him back and kissed him the way he had always wanted them to. Their arms would be wrapped around his petite waist as they pressed their lips upon his. And he would kiss them back, till his lips tired of kissing their worries away. He despised how much he craved for these fantasies, despite knowing that they would never come true. He could never be theirs. He had a duty to his country, and to Meleanor. To his dear old friend Raven as well. He could never fall in love. His was a life of serving, and they deserved much better than the servant that was him.

Lilia closed his eyes and went to sleep. And this time, he hoped he would never dream of the person he "loved".

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

@koneko-dreams Your order!!

[valworth]

I do think that Wrightworth's popularity makes the AA fandom slightly uninhabitable. I'm by no means the first person to say this, but it sure is on my mind. This isn't to say I don't understand the appeal. I do. They have some incredibly strong moments and are an interesting, compelling couple. They are also both massive bitches, which is tremendously fun. My issue lies more so in how inescapable it is.

I think both Phoenix and Edgeworth deserve the grace to be interpreted apart from each other. They are individuals, with massive lives outside of the other. I think it's really insulting when some can't bear to think of the two apart, god forbid in other relationships, for more than five seconds before they have to make a joke about how they're the most important couple. We get it. Can people talk about something else, though?

Not only that, but I yearn for more varied and nuanced depictions of their relationship, if we're using them at all. My request will always be to make it fail. They're so compelling as a failed couple. I mean, god. You, on an obsessive whim, shape your life around chasing this guy. This guy you knew for a year in elementary school. You have other reasons, but always in your mind, there he is. This thing that's just out of reach, a goal to pursue. Then it happens. You get him, and you win, and it's everything you dreamed. And then it isn't. It just doesn't work. Plain and simple, cruel and real. You're not a good couple, and it crumbles, and every time you see him from that point forward, you have this pang of anger. This feeling of betrayal. You were not what I wanted you to be.

Then there's the inverse of that. The feelings that come from being a trophy, a conquest, an item. They both lack the emotional intelligence to talk about and navigate their own feelings, with Phoenix running head-on into everything with reckless abandon, refusing to question his own motives, and Miles having a tendency to detach himself from his issues as hard as he possibly can. It's such an interesting, flawed basis for a relationship. That's just my take, though. It's how I like them, and no one else will ever be beholden to my interpretations!

I get AA is escapism for a lot of people, and if that's how it works for you, total respect. But I crave variety, god I do. It's not about being right, it's not about being wrong, I just think there are so many ways to play with these characters and the fandom is stuck in a rut of samey-same content, both happy and sad. I'm not here to shame you for liking what you like, either. I'm pretty esoteric. I mean, Jesus. There's nothing less welcome in the AA fandom than a self shipper getting between Wrightworth. I don't mind doing my own thing, and I'm happier with fewer eyes on me anyway. If my stuff upsets you, that's okay.

That being said, I think I'd have a much easier time being around the fandom if people treated it less like there was a way to interpret the games correctly. The general fandom consensus is suffocating at times. Escapism can be dangerous if you don't know how to handle threats to your perception of a made-up world. I don't mean that to be condescending, I've just been there.

It was a breath of fresh air to leave the AA fandom for a while and focus on something built upon 18 years of fan-interpretations, with no right answers. Where every artist's version of them feels drastically different. It made me realize how silly this all is. It also made me remember how sad it was that when I joined the fandom and started trying to share my opinions on certain Phoen-ish ships, a popular AA blogger publicly ridiculed me and let their followers harass me. I just don't understand why the AA fandom compels people to feel like they have to be correct about everything. I've had to be very careful not to let feelings like that sour the whole franchise for me.

I myself have veered into that territory, and it's why I don't like writing this post. I don't want to be that person. I think everyone should be able to give each other space to do what makes them happy. If common fandom interpretations are what you like, then go with those. If you're like me, though, and you've ever been nervous to share headcanons and analyses that are unpopular, this is me telling you I think you're great. Say what you want, make what you want. It doesn't have to make sense. It doesn't have to be right. People might be mean about it, but you still deserve the right to self-actualization, even if no one else likes the things you do.

It's more important for you to post what you want than for others not to see it. If you're not hurting anyone, you can always rest assured that you've no reason to entertain their ire. From the bottom of my heart, just get silly with it.

[ulnaart]

Static

// Content warnings: Crude humour, disturbing imagery, mild horror //

Word count: 4,393 (roughly)

Inspector's Notes #3

158 June 16th, Dome 14, Alexa's Quarters, 01:23

    She's stable for the time being.

    I've bandaged her leg as best as possible to prevent any further leakage seeping into the bed, though given my ability and single handedness, it's likely to come undone relatively quickly.

    Earth… Please, grant her your protection. I cannot lose another to this blight. To my shortcomings.

158 June 16th, Dome 14, Alexa's Quarters, 03:33

    Sleep eludes me.

    Turquoise taints my every attempt for its embrace.

    At times like this, Shion would have comforted me, righting my head and my hearts on the path that needed to be travelled. Only one soul in these catacombs for the living had the stubbornness to match my own.

    No more. Dwelling in the comforts of the past only serves to further the pains of the present.

    A death by reminiscence.

    Death…

    Unknowable, and yet, when in its presence, wholly familiar to me; what was once forgotten is once again remembered, stirred from slumber within that unknowable place inside my hearts. 

    Is it fear or longing that I feel?

    Its presence is felt in every aspect of Octarian life. To know Death is to know oneself. To know oneself, is to know one's purpose; every machine requires its chosen cogs to help it turn, to help it spit out its product. It's merely a matter of whether you help feed people into it, or you are eaten. 

    Death is merely what fuels us, the ever present force that drives us to this existence. 

    Shackles us. Sets us free.

    Our destroyer and our redeemer.

    Death.

    Beyond the concrete and steel fortifications of the Domes, deep within The Depths, it gathers like a raging tide, awaiting us with indifference and yet, welcoming all with open arms. Like a mother.

    I try to deny it.

    Its nightly siren calls go unanswered, for I cannot answer it knowing that in my hearts, I yearn for its release as much as it desires my inevitable embrace.

    I wonder…

    Do you hear it too, Alexa?

158 June 16th, Dome 14, Residential District, 06:48

    My cowardice to face my demons has taken me to the pits of work once more. A constant shadow that follows me wherever I may go, accompanied by a reliable excuse to leave.

    I have been tasked with searching the surrounding tunnels for survivors. As it currently stands; 12 people have been reported as missing, and 27 have been injured. Those still with us will require sanitisation removal.

    The Investigation Division has yet to turn up a missing person since its establishment. Yet we persist.

08:02

    I can't help but think of Alexa. Foolish, I know. My work requires no distractions, and yet she invades my every thought.

    Were I not a coward, I would be by her side, but…

    Alexa's isolation unit had become…suffocating. The sickening stench of contaminated ooze still lingers at the back of my throat- something between chemical cleanser and biological disintegration. Or perhaps it's merely the taste of my own involuntary bile. 

    As for Alexa… She had slipped into a feverish sleep after her agonies, and remained that way as I departed.

    I'm thankful she had the hindsight to use the plastic bag, for I fear the clean up afterwards would have been nigh intolerable to my insides had she not done so, not to mention more troublesome. Wrapping bandages single handedly will be a skill I will need to work on if I am to take proper care of her in the coming days.

    I saw to it personally that her ‘sample’, as she so crudely put it, was sent to the Science Division for further analysis. The weight of it in that bag… It lingers on the tips of my fingers like a phantom.

    With Alexa in recovery, I no longer have a companion in the tunnels to assist me.

    Cinders… As they say, you don't know what you have until it's gone.

    Asking a colleague for assistance is something I do not take pleasure in, but the situation requires it, for I cannot venture alone down there, especially given this recent activity. 

    Well, looking at the positives, they don't talk nearly as much as Alexa does whilst on the job. If at all. 

    Having company that values silence over unfiltered, asinine monologues might be what I need in a time like this. Though… I have grown to find mild amusement in Alexa's ramblings. Her presence alone allows for a certain reassurance, and her prattling serves as an adequate distraction from the anxiety I so often feel down there.

    Though that reassurance has been called into question as of recent.

    Whoever or whatever is behind our collective suffering now knows how to bypass the security doors built into the Dome, information only the Investigation Division and Alexa are privy to…

    Was her reason for keeping me in her quarters altogether selfish? Or was there another, more subversive agenda at hand?

    …I fear my mind has wandered into doubt.

    Is it so? Or are there other forces at work that would see our differences rekindled under the fires of suspicion? How easy and typical of someone such as myself, in my position as an investigative officer, to cast the blame on our former enemy; our most likely suspect. After all, who else could make us suffer so, if not the ones who put us down here in the first place?

    How loathsome it is to be so easily bought by propaganda. And yet… My mind does so willingly. Automatically. A response built on years of generational hatred and fear.

    Hate comes easily to those who lust for the false salvation it offers. Compassion requires an active forgiveness, one which I do not yet have.

    Putting my emotions aside and thinking logically here; she wouldn't have orchestrated such a thing, not in the knowledge that it would destroy her in the process. Above all else, she is selfish. She works to satisfy her ego, to feel needed and to be praised for it by those she can barely look in the eye.

    She hasn't the conscience nor the means to fulfill such an act of ruthlessness.

    But if she did… If in some twist of cruel fate she did…

    Earth have mercy on her soul, for I shall have none to spare.

158 June 16th, The Tunnels, Floodgate 14, 10:23

    Sergeant Hanae has been assigned to accompany me in the effort to locate the missing twelve people from the Residential District. 

    Currently, we both stand at the threshold of Floodgate 14, which leads to the neighbouring Domes. During my inspection, I found no signs of clear damage or brute force having been applied to it, which further solidifies my belief that the bastards have inside knowledge on how to bypass our security measures. That, or a conspirator on the inside… 

    I don't agree with our way of living, or how it's enforced through my work, but sacrificing innocents who don't know any better…

    Whatever we're up against, it has a sadistic streak, that much I can ascertain.

    On occasion, I glimpse Sergeant Hanae from the corner of my eye, fidgeting anxiously with her weapon as I make notes. I often forget that very few souls besides myself venture into these tunnels and come back alive.

    Well, that's if you can adequately call this “living”.

158 June 16th, The Tunnels, Safe Room N-4, 15:26

    As of writing this, we have scoured the direct tunnels leading to Domes 15 and 13 respectively, and have taken refuge in one of the safe rooms nearest Floodgate 15 to rest before returning back to Dome 14 to report our findings.

    Nothing. Not even a stray or patrol. I don't like this one bit… Usually when me and Alexa do a routine search, there's always at least one of them lurking around. So then why…?

    Where could they have gone to?

    The odd tumour of ooze has been observed, manifesting itself within the cracks of the tunnel's foundations during our search. I fear it won't be long before either Dome 14 or its siblings fall prey to its advances…

    Another, more disturbing observation the both of us have bore witness to is audible Octarian voices coming from within the walls, specifically where ooze is present. Neither myself or Sergeant Hanae could discern anything coherent, though… 

    At times, it sounded deceptively convincing, though it lacked any real structure or form. Like an infant babbling out words it had heard but couldn't quite replicate.

    If I were to listen for long enough, I'm sure I would have been able to decipher something. That, or delude myself into believing as much.

    This finding begs the question: is the ooze alive in some way…?

17:04

    Sergeant Hanae had fallen asleep once we settled into the safe room after our fruitless search for the missing residents. She remains so; alas, I cannot rest. Too many worries plague my mind.

    The ooze contaminates every crevice of the tunnel foundations, with tumorous ooze seeping from every crack. I have known it to be this way for some time, yet this expedition in particular bothers me. The lack of an enemy presence suggests to me that their agenda has changed from active pursuit to covert monitoring. If I had to guess based on my experiences down here, I would say that they're trying to lure us further into the tunnels by using the missing twelve residents as bait.

    Our adversary is adapting to our desperation, using it against us in a sinister fashion.

    Another damning thing that plagues me is how effectively the bastards escaped. Though Alexa's infrasound system destroyed some of the tainted that infiltrated the Residential District, a large number still managed to escape with the missing into the tunnels before the system could destabilise them enough to turn them to vapour. The system's range is only effective within the Dome itself, something only a handful of people are aware of; namely Alexa and the Engineering Division. 

    Why must it always circle back to Alexa…

    My mind cannot help but stray to thoughts of her after what has happened between us, only now every time they do, they grow further from concern by the hour, and closer towards the shadow of condemnation.

19:00

    The feeling of unease that has found itself within my hearts grows rapidly with every passing moment we remain here.

    The ooze is in the walls all around us. I can hear it babbling and cooing. It sounds exactly like the children in the Nursery. Earth… 

    How many children has it taken from us?

    How many of them did I know? 

    How many of them did I read stories to? Those useless, fantastical stories about how wonderful this life we have is…

    What hope do I- or any of us- have in fighting this thing?

    Please, Earth… I can't bear it.

    I must wake Sergeant Hanae.

    We leave for Dome 14 immediately.

    A second longer out here and I shall lose what's left of myself to the damned taint.

158 June 16th, Dome 14, Home, 20:44

    Every minute in that tunnel felt like falling into a bottomless abyss.

    The giggling. Childish laughter from within the walls rang out with every step we took, and only got worse as we got closer to Floodgate 14, becoming harsher and more sinister as we went; something ripped out of a corpse and crudely reanimated to the tune of hilarity.

    I could hardly breathe. My chest felt crushed not only from the exertion of trying to escape, but from dread and hopelessness.

    It's everywhere. It's everything. It's inside me, and now it's inside the survivors and Alexa, too. A violation. A cancer.

    As we ran, I considered our fate; to be eaten, or to eat? Whichever path we choose down here, it always leads back to the ooze. We either get killed from it, or kill for it.

    Death. Our destroyer and our redeemer.

    I was so preoccupied with myself that I barely noticed Sergeant Hanae had stumbled and fell, but by that point, I was already too late. Within the blink of an eye, the tumours lining the tunnel walls burst with a sickening squelch, allowing turquoise tendrils to come forth, their bodies barbed like rose stems, followed by the tainted ones.

    They intended to take us both alive.

    I wouldn't allow that. Not again.

    But Sergeant Hanae… She made the decision for me. 

    “Close the gate!” she had ordered defiantly into her communications device as the barbed bastards bore down on her body before whipping her into one of the ooze tumours from whence the tendrils emerged, folding her body like a piece of paper to fit through the letterbox gap in the tunnel wall.

    Earth…

    I tried to help her up before she was dragged away, but with only one arm against the many, there was never any hope of my success. The barbed bastards lacerated my arm and waist pulling me off of her, while the tainted shot their cancerous ink into me.

    

    But I had to. I had to try.

    If I try hard enough, then I can save everyone.

    But… I couldn't save the survivors, the missing. I couldn't save Alexa, nor Shion… And now Hanae.

    I'm sorry…

    All I could do at that moment was survive.

    My sword would taste vengeance. They would learn repentance.

    The floodgate had already begun its descent by roughly a third of the way after having fought off those within reach. My only option was to run, and pray I made it in time.

    Such an eagerness to live, and yet, at the time, I didn't even know what was carrying my will to live any further than the fear that gripped my body, thrusting one foot in front of the other.

    It was then that the Nursery children and Alexa surfaced in my mind.

    The children have, and always will be, my top priority, but Alexa… Even now, I still struggle to fathom how she snuck into my psyche in such dire circumstances.

    In spite of it all, they are my anchors that keep me bound to this existence, and so long as either of them remain here, I too shall persist.

×

Alexa's Journal #3

17th June 4028, My Room, 01:34

    I remember… Turquoise.

    Voices. Some of them I know, others I don't recognise. Crying, screaming, laughter. Words I can't understand. Numbers.

    Warmth… On my hand. On my forehead. On my leg.

    Wait, maybe I pissed myself in my sleep. Lemme check.

    Nope. That's a relief at least.

    Or maybe I'm just making shit up. Who knows. Hard to tell when you've got a banging headache and you're in delirious amounts of pain from having your leg popped like a balloon ^_^

    I hate balloons…

    I should probably eat something to help with recovery, but ughhhh.

    Cole would bang on about ‘keeping your strength up’ and ‘it'll look bad on my record if you die’.

    Yeah, well, all well and good nagging me about it, but I'm not even sure how I'm gonna make it to the fridge (the Inspector did, in fact, get me a new mini fridge after confiscating my old one). I'm scared I'll fall. I don't need Inspector Calls shovelling me off of the floor, asking for help the first time was embarrassing enough as is.

    What? ��No. I'm NOT doing that. Nuh-uh. Why would you suggest that, diary?

    …What? ‘How else am I going to get better without asking for help’?

   Ugh. Fine. I'll ask them the next time they visit if they can get me something to go. I just hope it's not Takoyaki… I don't know if I can eat someone's leftover tentacles again… Eurgh!

    Although, what's available depends entirely on what the Salmonids exchanged with the Octarians in their last big meeting. Can't exactly grow much produce down here given the limited water and light. Well, besides cave mushrooms maybe, but those tend to give you hallucinations with a side serving of paralysis.

    Don't ask how I found that out.

    Maybe crawling to the fridge is the best bet, after all.

04:44

    Woke up to the sound of a chair moving.

    At first I thought Tish had found a way in here, and moved so fast for my drill that I forgot about my leg, tore it open and made the damn thing leak everywhere again. Eurghhhh…

    But no! Turns out, Inspector Calls doesn't know how to use a door!

    Asshole nearly sent me into shock. 

    At least they know how to use their hand and were kind enough to change the sheets for me. I still don't know how to wrap this damn leg stump without severing my blood flow. Begs the question how I managed to bandage Cole's arm in the first place during the accident. The answer? I winged it. Like I do most everything.

    Gotta grab life by the balls, or else it'll crush yours. And boy, have my (hypothetical) balls been crushed over the years!

    Anyways, enough about balls. Back to hands: the Inspector's is surprisingly gentle. And bloodied. It was hard to see much in the low light, but clearly someone had been busy while I was slacking off here. Most of their waist and arm was decorated with the same stuff they were wrapping around me.

    I asked them about it.

    “Fun night out?”

    “Tunnel patrol.”

    Ah. Short but sweet as usual. I wasn't gonna push ‘em for an answer. I have a pretty active imagination, so I'll just piece it all together myself.

    “Didja miss me?”

    They didn't answer, and instead dodged the question by quietly cleared something from their throat. Probably what they wanted to say, but didn't.

Pshh. Whatever. I know they missed me enough to visit.

    “Get some rest.”

    And with that, they returned to the chair- the one that had so rudely awakened me- that they had moved to the side of my bed. Looks like we're bunking together for the night. Just like old times! ^_^

    Cole can be an aloof asshole at the best of times, but I know that whatever happened in that tunnel had rattled them to the point of seeking my company, so it must've been particularly shit.

    Drastic times call for absurd measures: it was time to bring out the mischief.

    “You'll get a stiff neck sleeping like that, y'know.”

    “I'm used to it.”

    “Is that why you're so grouchy all the time? You'd be more comfortable in here next to me~”

    “Quite the opposite. Now, sleep.”

    “What's worse: a stiff neck or a stiff one?”

    

    “Sleep.”

    Not even the lack of light could hide the minuscule smirk on their face from my eyes.

    Ahhh diary… One day, I'll crack them and get a laugh. Until then, we settle for huffs and sighs of mild amusement.

06:02

    Guess the stiff neck was the worse of two evils. Maybe I should dribble on their shoulder for fun. Actually I do that regardless of shits n’ giggles.

    Eh whatever. They're keeping to themselves on the other side of the bed with their back to me anyway, so no dribble accidents for now.

    Serious talk though, they don't act like this. Ever. I'm not gonna press them over the details of what happened in that tunnel, but my guess?

    There was an accident.

    Injuries like that? All up the arm and across the waist? If they were using their sword, a wound like that wouldn't have happened. They could've blocked that, easy. So, why didn't they?

    That part I don't know, but my best bet would be because they couldn't. Some kind of situation that made it impossible to draw it in time. An enclosed space maybe? A maintenance shaft? Those places are claustrophobic at the best of times, trying to fight it one would be certain death. But why would they be down there? What were they looking for?

    Whatever. Unless they tell me, I'll never know. Fun to guess, though!

    I'll bother them about their injuries in the morning. We can heal each other's wounds and our pride over a cup of something warm. Maybe something stronger for me, if I haven't drunk what's left of the cider in the fridge.

    I still have their very specific, ‘no other mug can be used’ mug they brought over for times like this. Apparently my drinkware isn't up to their standards. Or maybe they think I spit wash things to clean them. Ha, you wish.

    No, I clean them when I take a shower like any rational person would.

    What? You try conserving water down here!

09:47

    Aaand they're gone. Damn. Not even a goodbye. No kiss on the forehead, no coffee sitting and waiting for me on the kitchen table, no ‘thank you for letting me stay’, no nothing?

    Ugh. Asshole needs to read more books. Learn how a real unhealthy codependent work relationship is done.

    I'm gonna try and have a steam shower. I'll have to either crawl or hop along with the wall as a support to get there, but where there's a will, there's a thousand ways to screw it up!

    Pray for me, diary.

10:04

    I lived, and smell better than I did several minutes ago. Truly a blessed day for Octarian society.

    I feel a little more confident about moving around my room on one leg. Sometimes you just get stuck in your own head and make a mountain out of a hill, y'know? I just gotta push myself forward and I'll just figure it out as I go along.

    Like yeah. It's different, but that doesn't make it something negative. I just gotta live with it and learn.

    The Octarian command should hire me to do their inspirational, over the speaker ads.

    Cod those things get annoying after a while. They started to piss me off within a few hours of being cooped up in here after my shots. I still find ink flakes every so often. Eurgh! Gross. Anyway, tangent. I disconnected the wire on day two. I couldn't take another ‘a good Octarian is a working Octarian’ anymore.

    Working? Psh. Only work I am is ‘hard work’. At least that's what my parents and teachers used to say, anyway.

    Woah, Alexa lore spill! Better snip that in the bud before it becomes a bad habit, and I've got plenty bad ones already.

16:44

    Fell asleep again. Everything hurts.

    I think I over exerted myself with the shower.

    Forgot to eat. I'll do it later.

    There was that voice again…

23:34

    Cole came to check on me. They brought along some soup and a crutch for me to use, too. Maybe my telepathic messages got through to them after all.

Latest Octarian drill set. Latest Octarian drill set. Latest Octarian drill set.

    Praying that one goes through.

    They're currently at the kitchen table writing in their notes with a ton of paperwork beside them. I'll be honest, I've never known them to have free time. Pretty sure if you could marry a job, they'd be years into a toxic marriage with theirs already. Or maybe that's just how they deal with stress. I know I feel better when I have something to work on. 

    Maybe that's why I've been so cowabummed out lately and venting to you so much, diary.

    I still have those Octarian history books Cole gave me to read through, but I just can't get my brain to absorb the info. If it's not about machines or blueprint schematics, I have a hard time caring about it. Not that I'm uninterested in Octarian history, I find it fascinating. My brain just won't let me focus.

    Well, it's gotta be better than this.

18th June 4028, My Room, 01:22

    “As much as it pleases me to see you take an interest in our history, it's best that you give your eyes a rest, Alexa.”

    Oh, NOW you notice what I'm reading? Just as I get to the Civil Unrest Era? Whatever, I got my praise for the day, and I'm not arguing with an officer in uniform. 

    Whatever you say, handsome~

    Jokes aside… They're still acting off with me. I've been pouring over the last few interactions we've shared to try and pinpoint what I might've done to piss them off more than usual, but either I'm socially dense (I am by the way), or they're just in a bad mood after what happened.

    Ughhhh if you're gonna be moody about it then just say it out loud! Do you need me to hold your hand and walk you through your emotional constipation? 

    I've been told I'm a pretty good laxative, cuz I annoy the shit out of people.

    But now isn't the time to be a bitch. We're both struggling, and pressing for answers they're not ready to share will only erode what little trust is between us.

   One more day of brooding though, and I'm getting those answers, one way or another!

04:48

    So. You know how I was getting frustrated with Cole over not talking about what's bothering them? Well… They opened up about it.

    I can see why they held off on telling me about what happened.

    That idiot… Why do you have to be so hard on yourself all the time?

    They ended up breaking down. I couldn't get up to comfort them, so I ushered them over here for a cuddle, to which they readily accepted. 

    I misjudged the Inspector… With every moment that passes between us, I see more of the loneliness buried deep inside those hearts of theirs.

    Guess that makes two of us…

    They're asleep on my lap at the moment, so I'm trying not to move too much while writing this so I don't wake them. Tickling their head and ears seems to have calmed them down enough to zonk out. Ha. I'm an old hand at this big sister thing. Good to know what worked for my little brother seems to be universal for most people.

    I shall use this newfound vulnerable knowledge for my evil schemes…

    Just kidding. Although maybe it'll be useful for getting that drill set I've had my eye on…

[anikaarchive]

The nights are the longest

God why do you do this to me?

Why do i miss you so much that it's painful? I dread the nights the most. How long they are without you around. How when everyones asleep the only thing i'm left with is the memories of you, it's like i'm drowning in them, suffocating almost. The only thing i desire right now is you, yet it is only you who is hurting me.

you're the cause of my pain but also the solution

i wish it wasn't like this. I wish you weren't so immature. i wish we weren't teenagers making our teenager mistakes. I wish you sorted yourself out now. we could've been happy if we were just older, more experienced. we could've been happy if it was a different time.

i hate moving on, i hate change, but i have to now. I have to move on and let you go... Because i can't keep waiting, yearning for someone who doesn't want me anymore. it's embarrassing.

I just want to be loved. I waited my whole life, read it in stories, watched it in films thinking that i could never find it. This feels like a cruel joke. The first time i've ever been loved by another and it's taken away from me just as fast. i feel like a fool

i'm sorry. i'm sorry you hate me now, i'm sorry there's nothing i can do to change that. if hating me keeps you comfortable, if dragging my name through the dirt when you talk about me makes you feel better then that's okay. I'm not bitter anymore, i still love you.

I hope you're happy.. that's all i ever wanted to give you, happiness. Even If it means the very thing that would give you that is my absence... i'm gone now. i'm not going to bother you anymore.

This is my final act of love, respecting your wishes, and setting you free. I hope you take care of yourself now, i hope you find that happiness i couldn't give you with my presence.

I love you.

[hdjxnsnxjmfnd]

It's been getting worse

Day by day I feel worse

recently I noticed that I've only been taking from my parents

hurting my friends when I don't want to

and wasting time of the people around me

and then I realized I don't have the energy to give back

I cry almost daily at this point

I cry and cry and cry

some days it's better some days it's worse

I don't think I'm cut out for life

recently I identified a feeling that I think has been following me throughout childhood

the feeling of not wanting to be born

a bit different from wanting to die

because while I think I'm not worth it

I still yearn for life in such a simplistic way

I just want to be able to experience things and people without affecting them

it would be nice to just be able to not have a body

or for people to forget me when I want them to

for them to not have to live with the burden of meeting me for who I am

for me to not have to see myself in the mirror and see so many things that I want to change

I think that's the superpower I would have wanted

being a spirit that makes people forget

I don't think I'll ever get used to working or the world exploiting basic human needs for profit

people would probably call me lazy for not wanting to work but every day I spent at work has worsened my quality of life exponentialy not only did I hurt more get sick easier but my mental state worsened

I became more angry at the people around me at work even when they didn't deserve it and suppressed those feelings till I felt like I would explode if I didn't take a break

My body jumped into a fight or flight reaction when work was mentioned once I just had a full blown panic attack

Which may seem silly

but I honestly have never hated doing something more in my life

this is suffocating

I feel like if I come back to my hometown I'm just taking steps towards getting even worse

especially since just being there seems to make me feel like shit

I lost all motivation when it comes to school haven't been there in ages

The slightest thing can tick me off and send me into a spiral

it's all crumbling down

I don't think I will ever tell a professional nor do I think that would help both me and my case of being stable and able in the decision of changing my gender

I don't think the court would like the idea of me being unstable and also making life changing decisions since what I feel is only partially caused my gender dysphoria

I honestly am starting to hope time just stops or something happens cause I don't think I'm able to handle being behind the wheel of my life

and yet I want autonomy and freedom so much it's painful

hypocrite bitch

I don't feel welcomed in many spaces and that contributes to my spirals the most I think

everytime something goes wrong with my girl friends I'm afraid it's because they just don't view me how I would want them to

people say they do but let's be real they have their biases

and it's wrong of me to think that way cause it's probably not that and they're just mad at me or I'm just an ass and hurt them in some way

but I always worry that it's because of my childhood conditioning to "be a man" and not really fitting in enough and understanding enough of them

and I don't think I will ever truly be able to tame that feeling or achieve a level of closeness where that doesn't happen and my mind doesn't race that way

but I want to so bad

I hope sleep helps

If this is what life has to offer than it can take it's grime stained shoes of my welcome mat and fuck off cause I'm not buying

I don't know who I'll buy from but definitely not from this one

I don't really want to tell anyone either

That's why I'm writing it down

so it doesn't rot me from the inside

hope someone reads this relates and can find closure in knowing they're not alone

cause I sure as hell know I'm not the only one with these feelings or at least some of them

this will probably happen again at some point

[nostalgicbraat]

Sandstorm

- a chaotic situation or overwhelming event.

I'm placing my bets on you never seeing this.

I'm praying she never sees this

approximately seven years of knowing you.

about one year of being with you.

and a lifetime of missing you. wine stained memories flood my brain.

along with a bountiful collection of unclear feelings.

all i ever wanted was for us to meet again,

but each year passing by slowly dwindled our potential

and some how my yearning for you never fades.

i have so much to say,

but never enough time

which is why, I never tried.

But times up now.

So, theoretically i have all the time in the world ...if my bets are right.

PreStorm

mc...

i sing your name so sweetly

from day one i knew

You were going to be the most euphoric thing that ever happened me

Unfortunately, emotional immaturity was my specialty.

But the pressing question is:

"Did either of us really have all the prerequisites for our potential reality?"

Coquet words turned into hours of conversation

laughs shared

spirits exchanged

my soul clings to you in ways i've left unspoken for years.

"I think you love the idea of me." you said thats when i knew we wouldn't blossom after all those tears.

Even though we've only had a speckle of time the "Idea of you" is a diss to our requiem.

because each instrument and every lyric in our song resurfaces our greatest memories.

but like always

we fade

And the next time you come around

I'm not the same .

I'm full of pain.

And I'm not okay.

"I miss the old you" you kept saying

without grasping on to the facts.

I was forced to keep turing my pages in realization that what we shared was possibly unrequited.

The intimacy i desperately desired never got the chance to transpire.

After i exposed how you fulfilled my restlessness it lead to me meeting my nemesis.

I won't speak her name

So in that very moment i had to charge it to the game

A game i was forced to play.

I accepted that my soul will never again be calmed your

silky voice

gentle touch

or penetrating gaze

so... i put out the flames of my burning desire

i entered a new chapter.

But Blood stained these pages so quickly

And just like always

there you were again.

Ready to dig me out of my already deep darkness.

One word from you is breathtaking.

But i needed air desperately.

The pain was suffocating and i was practically begging you to save me.

Please hurry, time is ticking.

The Storm

we were a race against time.

a race i selfishly never wanted to end.

i never wanted to cross The Line.

I only wanted to keep running

With You.

but my Pain was faster than us.

and my Reality was even quicker

You flowed into my already tainted chapter and got stained too

Even with my bets placed,

here's everything I Never Said To You.

My Storm

I still can't understand why i feel so linked to you.

my days have grown gloomy, realizing you'll never actually know how much i wanted US.

You still plague my mind, body and soul.

Our memories persist,

with every melody i hear

and every spirit i sip.

i feel your presence every time i lay down.

I remember your voice every time i close my eyes

"Where have you been" Was the first time i felt your yearning

And i've craved it everyday since.

You understand me in ways no one ever will.

And the thought of you ignites a desire of closeness i've never experienced.

I want another chance to know your mind, know your heart and heal you in every way that i possibly hurt you.

But i know it's unfair to ask.

This Eclipse seems everlasting.

Which is why i wasn't forced to turn my pages this time.

I don't know if I'm settling.

But I know I mixed US up with my reality.

So l'll choose to hold on to our wine stained memories.

And be Desiré because you hold my deepest desire

But You deserve to give that so someone who wouldn't turn their pages and move on to another chapter.

No matter how much time is left in the race.

Inspired by Sandstorm-Mereba

Written by j.l.j

04FEB2025.

this was my first post. I'm sure I have plenty of grammatical errors. I don't expect anyone to see this for real. But just in case please be kind. These are just my thoughts.

I hope you enjoy, knowing my deepest feelings haha. there's plenty more to come.

This is a re upload. These are my thoughts and they will not be silenced.

Thank you,

j.l.j <3

[neeturnal]

Semi-rant about being queer in university, everyone will tell you its easier, but i've never felt more alone in my feelings

my roommates are all straight and i just hate it. I love them all so much but i feel so out of the loop. They're all accepting and all but i just still don't feel implicitly represented? like my gayness is an afterthought... but its not an afterthought for me, ill admit i don't really make my queerness my whole personality, but its still a part of me- it impacts every thing about me

hearing them all talk about the guys they're seeing like its second nature for it to happen to them, and its so hard to listen to them. Because im so happy for them but im just overrun with the knowledge that its not easy for me, it hasn't been easy and it very likely never will be.

my roommates want to go on a trip to dubai. how am i gonna tell my emirati roommates that i can't go because their hometown that they love so much is potentially dangerous for me? But the idea of being left out of this group of lovely people fills me with a deep deep heaviness in my chest. so im at a crossroads forced to make a choice; do I not make a scene? do i just push down the part of me that i don't know who i'd be without? or do I refuse, and be forced to face the fact that being gay fucking sucks sometimes.

my roommates make jokes about being in love with eachother, and i laugh knowing that if i made that joke, they might feel uncomfortable. I think i just want a partner to prove something, to prove that its still even possible for me. Hell my hometown is dubbed as the "gay town" and my university is dubbed as a "queer hotspot", but I've never felt more alone in my sexuality. Never felt less understood for the way I am.

I don't know why this is all being felt now. hell im 20, and i've known I was queer since I was 7. why am i suddenly feeling the weight of internalized homophobia now, as I've had more freedom than i've ever had.

......I met a girl. and I know she's queer, and she's so beautiful and her warmth makes me remember why being gay sucks, but also why it's worth it. I tell my roomate about her, and she acts like its already an official thing. But she doesn't know that there is still so much risk. This is the first thing i've ever had that wasn't online, and that makes every feeling and every yearning so much more real, so much more warm and so much more suffocating at the sametime.

I've only ever dated girls through online relationships. my roommate makes fun of me for it, but i just want her to shut up. Say what you will, about my fucked up relationships and dangerous online situations, but this is how it has to be sometimes, as a queer woman. how do queer people get started in relatinships? you find a partner in person, but thats almost a statistical miracle. there is no expectation of safety in queer relationships. i hate it, but it is just an unfortunate truth.

So i'm talking to this girl from my class right, shes so beautifyl and i love her voice. She could have a partner, and then im just as alone as before. Being gay means when straight people get a bunch of options, you have maybe one person, and if they're not available, then that's that.

and then theres my parents. they will never fully accept me, that is just a fact.

[red-riding-wood]

@toms-cherry-trees Mars, I am utterly speechless after reading this masterpiece. Let me try and articulate why I love this so much (and try not to quote the entire thing in the process), but genuinely, no words can do this justice.

The things one does for love,

Already starting strong here; not only did this make me think of Jaime's "The things I do for love" but also, what a deliciously dark hook with her standing over the body. At first I thought it might be Tommy, then Greta, then Grace... what a rollercoaster and such suspense you injected in this story simply by setting this first scene!

I also want to say, I am ALL HERE for the Crimson Peak vibes. I love that film and its atmosphere so much, as I think I've already mentioned over call, but seriously you do a brilliant job of capturing the same sinister vibes!

During that time, you were forced to see John go too, then your own brothers and friends, an endless supply of fresh meat to feed the insatiable beast awaiting in the Flanders fields.

This is just such a beautiful metaphor for the war; I had to read it twice 'cause I swear my jaw dropped.

A sharp jaw, sunken cheeks and deep set eyes replaced the once boyish face. The boy you had fallen for had ceased to exist, but your passion for the man remained just the same, even with time and distance trying to suffocate your flame.

I... I have no words. This line, it's perfect. Perfect for describing Tommy post-war and perfect for how I imagine their relationship would indeed suffer.

But even in the joy of finally obtaining what you had so long desired, you couldn’t not notice how his drive didn’t come from love. It tasted like desperation, like urge, like fear. The imperious need to feel something, anything at all to remind himself he remained alive. Seeking the warmth the trenches had stolen from him.

As soon as I read the line about him getting the reader's dress off within a night or something, I already suspected that Tommy was just doing this to feel something, to fill the emptiness or silence the demons in his head. And then you not only confirm that but hit me with this gorgeous fucking line. This again just really encapsulates Tommy's character as a whole, his emptiness and his need to take and destory and gain.

You wanted him to want your soul, not just your body.

Oh my God, the angst is so, so FUCKING GOOD. It's the kind of angst that is so dark and desperate and so human that it's just pure beauty. It also reminded me a lot of Creep - Radiohead (one of my favourite songs); "I want a perfect body, I want a perfect soul..." So bonus points because genuinely that's one of my favourite songs of all time and this fic has been giving me those vibes. The yearning of the reader is so heart-wrenching to read yet also so delicious.

Tommy x the reader actually reminds me a lot of the dynamic he has with Lizzie, especially when they get married for the kid and are stuck in this loveless, one-sided marriage. And I don't mean that as an insult because I don't like Lizzie -- you took the interesting parts of her character (the jealousy, pining, vindication, the need to be loved, the inability to let go) and just made them a thousand times better here.

trying to build himself together but falling apart again every night.

Just another line of pure fucking poetry.

Yo, I fucking lost it when it got to the line about Polly holding her tit like an orange at the market. I instantly knew what was up lmao.

Refusing to let you in but unwilling to let you go.

Mars, stop, please, with all this poetry! (But don't, because it's incredible.) I'm quoting the whole damn story at this point! This line, and this whole section about their marriage, I love it so much. I can't imagine the emotional turmoil the reader must be going through getting all these mixed signals from Tommy. The scene where she asked him to say I love you back was such a hit in the gut. As I'm typing this I'm actually realising how brilliant all of this build-up to her killing Grace is, because you made a villain that has reason to be acting the way she does. All of this pain and resentment and envy, bottled up over so many years... even though what she does is deplorable, you can't help but empathise or sympathise with her and THAT is the mark of a perfectly written villain. In my case, I even found myself cheering her on. Her character is so delightfully dark and twisted and unhinged, perhaps even a little delusional. I LOVE that shit and words cannot express how much I adore the character and story you've crafted here.

If the devil worked hard, you worked harder.

Another thing about the main character, I have to say, I commend her determination. A character who will do anything to get what they want is so interesting to read. Also another line that just hits me in the soul!

You leaned against a wall for support, as the full weight of the night dawned over your shoulders.

Beautiful line. Seriously, I am trying not to quote the whole story at this point. It's little lines like these that just add that extra oomph to your prose.

And that ending, with her laughter turning into sobs, again so heartbreaking and doesn't actually make her feel like she's the villain of this story. Despite what she's done, I want to give her a hug and let her cry into my shoulder.

For This Love || Tommy Shelby x Reader

Summary: You have fought for this love far too long, and you weren’t willing to let anyone take it away

Word Count: 3610

Warnings: Cheating, pregnancy, headcanon death, murder, Tommy and Grace are painted in a very bad light here, reader is unhinged AF

Author’s note: I wrote this while watching Crimson Peak and that should be enough to tell you what type of story this is. Not much romance, just a lot of angst, one sided love, vengeance, murder, honestly somebody get Guillermo del Toro on the phone (just kidding) So read at your own discression, for this is a dumpster fire

Part two here

Let me know if you wanna be in my taglist

The things one does for love, you thought, suppressing a wave of nausea as the life gurgled out of your victim’s neck, warm and slick as it slipped around your fingers and stained the blade of crimson. The dark liquid pooled underneath you and drenched the hem of your skirt and the front of your stockings, seeping through the fabric into your skin. 

~

Keep reading

[sweetofsin]

things i can't relate to that aligns w gay love stereotypes

- immense amount of yearning

personally, i just don't desire romantic love that extremely to the point where i'm laying in my bed at night constantly yearning for a love that may or may not exist. as long as i read some form of romantic media and i have some romance with my close friends, i'm content enough to not yearn (doesn't mean i don't ever desire a romantic partnership though) i also prefer to do romantic experiences irl and not just within my head. like, the main time i'm even able to yearn is if i'm currently experiencing a romantic connection with someone and it makes me daydream about them. and i will find a way to make the daydream happen bc i hate living in my head

- falling in love w straight people

maybe i'm lucky or idk but i've never really found myself heavily desiring someone that was straight? there's just.. not much that attractive to me about straight people. i think maybe there was this one girl i was attracted to and even later on, she turned out to be gay. i really want to know what makes people fall for straight people. bc straight people are usually SO PAINFULLY straight to me. i'm not talking just clothes or whatever. it's the mannerisms, it's the belief systems and values, it's how they think or ways they approach life. queerness is so... so specific and i look at those specifics and that's what makes me attracted to a person. or maybe i just haven't met a straight person that would intrigue me enough for me to be attracted to them, who knows

- the lesbian urge to mesh

i love to be my own individual and vice versa and frankly i would get very annoyed or feel pretty weird if it felt like i couldn't have my own individuality or life to myself. same goes for my partner. like why does love have to equal enmeshment. i don't want to suffocate! there can be distance with love too (to be fair, i have felt this way with people but it was due to them being avoidant in some way and triggering me to be anxious. which led to the illusion that i wanted to enmesh with them, but i didn't)

- uhauling

when it comes to friends or community? yes. i'm down. if i really love a (long-term) friend, and they live somewhere i desire to live as well, i will most definitely pack my bags and pick up a flight. romantically however? hell no. there is no way in hell that i would date someone and move in with them like two months later. i don't understand what's the rush? plus i very much enjoy having my own space and the ability to isolate. so unless it's a two bedroom it's def a no fa me

- phantom ex, aka, 'the one that got away'

this just may be due to the fact that i haven't experienced a healthy intimate romantic partnership, but i just can't really relate. i've had romantic experiences with people where it felt really intense, where at a certain point, i envisioned a future. and even then i get over them kinda quickly... like i'll always be attracted and love them from a distance. but i'm fine with moving on and just finding other people and experiences, albeit they're hard to find. that could change with a first love, but i also simply just don't think i'm the type to heavily ponder and cling onto the past romantically wise. i be excited to venture out into the new tbh

- "i fell in love with my best friend and i haven't told them and it's been two years"

even if i wanted to relate, i couldn't. i try my best to hide my feelings when i like people, and it might work for a good minute...? until you see me hyperventilating and steam is blowing out of my ears and my eyes are teary and my cheeks are red and i'm nervous looking into your eyes and i keep giggling and laughing and i don't know what to do except randomly on a friday night, i'll just scream that i like you. kudos to people that can keep that shit hidden for a while though, must be nice. but i also don't think i would anyway. i wouldn't suffer in silence for that long. i would just want to hurry up and know if i have a chance or not and i simply would be too impatient to wait for that long. like yes, slow burn, but not torturous burn

- unrequited love

often times i try to be very careful with my feelings because i get terrified of liking people and not knowing how they feel back. so in terms of LOVE? i don't think that would ever happen. i simply wouldn't even allow myself to open those gates and take that plunge into falling in love with someone without knowing if they'd even reciprocate. and i don't glorify or romanticize it either. it's either you like me, or you don't. and if you don't, i'll be sad and move on. i am a masochist but that's a different type of masochism i refuse to succumb to. and why would i cling so heavily onto the possibility of it happening with one person when i know i'll probably end up meeting someone else in like a year or two anyway that will more than likely reciprocate my feelings

[itsokaytobenotokayyy]

Title: Navigating the Storm Within 🌪️

Hey Tumblr fam,

Just a heart-to-heart post about the whirlwind of emotions I've been wrestling with lately. Anxiety and depression have become unwelcome companions, making it a struggle to escape the clutches of the past and the uncertainty of the future.

I'm at a crossroads facing one of the biggest changes in my life, and it's both confusing and terrifying. The apathy is overwhelming, and everyone seems to think it's just a matter of laziness, but it's so much more than that.

I'm yearning for simplicity, for the calm of just being lazy instead of drowning in a sea of emotions every day for the past three months. Hoping against hope that things will change, but in the same breath, fearing that maybe this is my new normal.

The well-intentioned advice and psychoanalysis from others only add to the weight, and the pressure to conform to what they think I should do is suffocating. Sometimes, all I need is understanding rather than solutions.

[otpaholic]

What to do when you're yearning mann

Tis isn't the season 😔😔

GOD GOD GOD WHYYY ARE GIRLS SO FUCKING PRETTYYYY

It's been like 2 hours and I can't stop thinking about her hair and her smile and her dimples and even her fucking teeth and the adorable way she looks away while giggling and how hot she looks when she's in charge and Aaaa. Also her eyes are really beautiful and she smells soo good

Today she stretched and she was wearing a cropped hoodie. And I died at the skin that showed. Also I'm in love with her soft tummy and her thick thighs and like. I realllllyy will have no problems if I'm suffocated between them like I'll literally be the happiest person alive. Also her arms are perfect for cuddling and they're so fucking strong and big and like. She tied her hair up and her muscles flexed and all I could think of was her picking me up and man handling me. And she's tall as fuck and I'm on the shorter side and she drives and all of this just makes her hotter oh my goddddd please why am I such a useless bisexual I have WORK to do and this girl hasn't stopped running through my head!!!!! I feel so fucking weird like!! I've never thought so much about someone before ever!! I literally have to stop myself from stalking her Instagram!!! I'm so far gone that today I invented an hour of work after class just to spend time with her(and it worked)!!

And worse part is !!! I don't even know if she's into girls! Like I have an inkling that she's queer and kind of into me? but if I'm pining after a straight girl oh my god I'm gonna be the biggest fool ever god pls save me if I'm being delusional

Anyways girls. Especially this girl is pretty as fuck and we vibe really well. And we have to see each other and work together for the next 2 months almost everyday. God is it my turn finally pleaseeee

[wmuquinnfabray]

Everything is cold, so very cold. Quinn had often been referred to as an Ice Queen. A title that some may find rude, Quinn though had often leaned into the role with a sense of pride. She saw it as someone who was untouchable. And for so long she had needed to be untouchable. Yet as the darkness slowly consumes her she no longer yearns for the cold. No longer a protective shield this chill is suffocating. Her lungs struggle with each breathe, and vision dark as her body seems to be unable to focus on anything but the pain. As the intensity is starting to become too much to handle she feels something. It's a hand, though it's as if she's being touched through a thick blanket. As though the feeling is muted or numbed. Then she hears a voice, though similar to the hand it's as if the voice is speaking to her from another room. She strains to listen, to try and focus on what's being said.

Then just as quickly as it had arrived it was over. Her heart was still pounding, still beating so strongly she swore it would jump out of her chest. Yet as Noah continued to comfort her she could feel it start to slow. The calming sensation of his hand against hers helping to anchor her here in the present rather than in those dark thoughts. Blinking away the tears that had been building up in her eyes she tries refocusing. Finally through the haze she sees him, his face filled with concern and it nearly breaks her again. She never wants to see Noah hurt, to see him upset had always been a fear of hers. A fear she may just make into a reality herself if she goes through with what she knows she needs to do. "Sorry... I... I think I had a panic attack..." Taking slow deep breathes she's working hard to keep herself calm. "Noah I need... I need to tell you something, but I'm afraid." Shifting in her seat nervously, her body begging her to move closer to him but too afraid of what might happen next. "I'm so afraid Noah. It's something I've wanted to tell you for a long time, but I never could. I just don't wanna lose you again, but if I tell you this... If I tell you what happened I'm not sure you'll ever look at me the same way." Her body is trembling as she searches for her voice, all the while her fathers words continue to whisper in the back of her mind. Filthy. Worthless. Useless. Pushing back the tears is slowly becoming a losing battle as Quinn tries to be strong. "It's about why I stopped talking to you. Why I disappeared that year."

He let out a huff of amusement, shaking his head. "Yeah, I don't know 'bout all that spilling secrets crap, but she sounds cool. And a tour would be great." He faced foward again, taking a bite of his pizza. His fingers drummed against her ankle subconsciously, and Puck couldn't help but marvel at how crazy this all was. He'd just started to accept the fact that he might never see her again, and now here she was, perched on his couch with a smile that could put the sun out of business. "Right. Like I could ever get sick of you." Rolling his eyes light-heartedly, he ran his hand up and down her lower leg. "I plan on making up for lost time. You're not gonna be able to get rid of me. And you're probably gonna regret telling me to just say the word, y'know. I might start taking advantage of that."

At his question, Puck felt the energy start the shift. The playfulness drained from the conversation. He eyed Quinn intensely, confused and trying to catch any nuance in her expression that might clue him in on what she was thinking. It was when he noticed her blue eyes darken that a pit in his stomach started to form, knowing that familiar look. He scooted over on the couch, sprawling his arm across the back of it to grip her shoulder. Puck was very well aware that he wasn't the best person to go to for emotional comfort. He'd always felt quite out of place around emotional people, and he could never seem to find the right words. But with her, he'd always tried his hardest to help in some way. "Hey," he said simply, voice softening and hand starting to massage her shoulder. "What's going on? Did I say something wrong?" When he noticed her state seem to worsen, he tried his best not to show his rapidly growing concern. The last thing he needed was to freak her out even more. His hand left her shoulder, moving to push a blonde strand of hair behind her ear. He cupped her jaw delicately, as if he was scared he'd break her. Hell, a part of him was. With his other hand, he flipped hers over to the palm, rubbing smoothing circles around it with his thumb. "I'm right here, Q. You're alright. Just breathe." Puck stayed silent for a moment, only hoping his words brought even the slightest comfort to her as he continued to rub her hand and stroke her cheek. Still confused, and wildly concerned, he dared to speak again. "Quinn, what happened? Did something even happen? Look, I know we haven't been like...this in a while, but you can talk to me. Anytime, about anything. No judgment. You know that."