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chuluoyi · 5 months

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the secret wife

- nanami kento x reader

follow the first years’ misadventures as they find out that apparently, the infamous 7:3 sorcerer is also a dutiful and loving husband in private!

genre/warnings: crack, fluff, the first years are simply chaotic, an attempt at humor, gojo cameo (he’s so insufferable), mentions of pregnancy, nanami being the best husband there is

note: based on an anon's suggestion, this is a spin-off to love entries' wife (so gojo is married to love entries reader naturally!) this is full chaos and crack omg so sorry and isn't proofread bc i’m kinda tired so pls forgive any mistakes and my dry humor :')

series masterlist | oneshot masterlist

On one fine, sunny day, which was supposed to be a calm and relaxing afternoon...

“Hello? Yuji—”

Megumi could've sworn, they weren't usually this nosy.

“Gojo-sensei! It's urgent!”

Call it indulgence, because Nobara's curiosity just got the better of her.

“Oh? What's—”

“Does Nanamin have a wife!?”

And Yuji... well, he just needed answers, because the three of them were now in the ‘Mom and Baby’ section of department store, having just witnessed a monumental sight of their esteemed mentor, Nanami Kento—

—with a remarkably stunning woman hanging onto his arm.

“Huh?” Gojo's confusion was evident from the other line. Oh, yeah. Yuji had decided to cut to the chase and call him too, hoping for a swift clarification.

Okay, so why were the trio—plus Gojo on the speakerphone—hiding behind a pillar just to spy on Nanami and his very possible wife? Let us rewind 30 minutes before...

Yuji considers himself to have an exceptional eye and taste for women.

And 30 minutes ago, when he fell on his butt on the rough, hard asphalt in the jammed Shibuya crossing after accidentally getting shoved by the crowd, and encountered a kind, vivacious older woman—you, who extended a hand to help him up, he was even more convinced of that.

“Are you alright, Itadori-kun?” your soft voice entered his ears, catching him off-guard, and Yuji was certain of two things then.

One, that you were just like a literal angel descended from skies above, all dolled up and pretty with your flowy sundress.

“Ah, uh—” he stammered, eyes darting everywhere and anywhere at once as his palm started sweating after clasping your hand. “I-I am…”

And two, for the life of him, he had no idea who you were.

But it registered late in his mind to ask as he was busy controlling his ragged breathing and instant crush, and before Yuji knew it, you graced him with another kind smile and went on your way.

And did he feel so miserable afterwards.

. . .

“She’s sooo hella pretty, Fushiguro! And she knows me! Me!”

Megumi sighed, eyeing his friend in disgust. Truthfully, all he wanted was to return to the dorms and collapse onto his bed, and not listen to his friend’s incoherent ramblings.

"You sure you weren't imagining things?" Nobara questioned with slight irritation. "After you embarrassed us in front of Gojo-sensei's wife a while back, please think more before you act."

"I'm not, I swear! She said my name!"

"Itadori, can you please just not?" Megumi grumbled, having enough of this ruckus. "I want to walk back in peace."

And so tucking away his pout, Yuji walked in silence just as his best friend asked, and he was really going to leave it at that when suddenly he caught the sight of a familiar pristine coat and the sundress from earlier. “Oh?”

"Isn't that Nanami-san?" Nobara also spotted him, her eyes widening when she saw you, who was happily beaming as well as Nanami's light chuckle. "And wait, who is—?"

"That's her!" Yuji burst out, pointing decisively in your direction. "That's who I was talking about!"

Oh, no. Megumi dreaded it already. He could already see the utter catastrophe—

"I'm going after them!"

"Wait, Itadori! Me too!"

Too late. Before he could stop them, Nobara and Yuji had followed the pair. Reluctantly, Megumi trailed behind them too, albeit wearing a vexed scowl. Yet despite his misgivings, he couldn't deny that the things he saw over the next 30 minutes were genuinely unexpected.

Nanami consistently led you to a quieter spot away from the bustling crowd, his hand holding yours firmly. He would occasionally throw you a smile, or when you didn’t hold hands, then he’d wrap an arm around your waist. And to the trio's bewilderment, they also saw him tenderly brushing his lips against your head while on the escalator.

Soft and gentle. It was a side of Nanami Kento they had never witnessed—either with anyone else or even himself.

The two of you ventured through home appliances, visited food stalls, and eventually... the ‘Mom and Baby’ section.

"Do you want to rest for a bit?" Nanami's voice held a touch of concern as his hand settled on the small of your back, and seeing that, Nobara positively swooned.

"Oh, no, I'm fine," you responded with a reassuring smile. "Let's head over there. I'd like to see that next!"

Watching you and Nanami meticulously going through strollers and cribs like a pair of would-be parents was apparently too mind-blowing for Yuji and Nobara, leading to the decision to call Gojo right then and there. And, as they say, the rest was history.

"Last I heard, Nanami wasn't married," Gojo answered resolutely. "If he is, then it's the ultimate betrayal because he never told me!"

"But we see him with a woman! At mother and baby care section!"

Gojo hummed in thoughtful manner. "Okay, students. Now I'm tasking you to see this to the very end! Keep me on the line!"

With that, Operation: Uncover Nanami's Wife was officially underway, and frankly, the way the three of them were clumsily tailing the 7:3 sorcerer made Megumi want to facepalm. How was it that Nanami hadn't noticed their rather conspicuous attempts at all?

Now you were fawning over baby clothes, cutely trying not to squeal as you picked a little blue and yellow overalls. "Kento! Kento! Look, how cute!"

And all of them were floored once again when the expression on his face softened, as a warm smile adorned his lips. "Yeah, they are."

"Is she pregnant? She doesn't look it..." Nobara remarked, squinting and frowning, still watching the two of you like a hawk.

"Or maybe they're shopping for someone else?" Megumi suggested, earning teasing grins from Yuji and Nobara, to which he quickly rolled his eyes, as they chorused, "Looks like you're curious too!"

After a while, you moved from the clothes to sections stocked with mother's necessities. Yuji leaned against one of the racks, pressing his ear against it, with Nobara and Megumi crowding behind him, attempting to catch a snippet of your conversation with Nanami.

"I think we should get some heat packs and these pillows—"

"Oh, Kento! You're such a worrywart, I still won't need them for a few more months—"

"Wait, what?" Yuji whipped his head around in surprise, causing Nobara, who was leaning on him, to stumble and inadvertently collide with the racks.

"Eh? Huh!?"

Unfortunately, the racks weren't sturdy enough, and the force caused them to sway dangerously. Nobara, sensing her imminent fall, instinctively grabbed Yuji's arm to steady herself. However, he got tugged instead and their combined weight exacerbated the situation, leading to the racks quickly toppling over and a deafening commotion ensued—

Crash!

"Careful!" Nanami immediately pulled you behind him, a protective arm around your shoulder, sensing your shock from the sudden crash. He was on high alert, expecting some sort of attack of cursed spirits, but instead, he was met with the most astounding sight of the bickering culprits amidst the fallen racks.

"Kugisaki! What are you doing!"

"You dumbass! Why didn't you stop me from falling?!"

"Itadori-kun...?" Nanami called out in utter disbelief, his mind couldn't fathom as to why the first years were here. However, his attention quickly shifted to Megumi, who was seething and sending his friends a glare so hard it could drill a hole into them.

Then, the boy swiftly fixed himself into a low bow in front of him, ashamed, disregarding Yuji and Nobara's groans altogether. "Nanami-san, I'm very, very sorry on their behalf."

"What are the three of you doing here?" he inquired, and poor Megumi seemed at a loss, huffing as he nervously rubbed the back of his neck, unsure of where to even start.

Meanwhile you were full of worry for the fallen kids. "Oh my gosh, are you alright?"

For the second time today, you tried to help Yuji to stand on his feet, and this time, he really had a good look over you.

It wasn't exactly noticeable due to how loose your dress was, but now he could see that under it, your belly was slightly rounded—an unmistakable baby bump.

Amidst his shock and pain, Yuji couldn't bring himself to take your hand as he inadvertently let this slip, "N-Nanamin! You knocked her up!"

Nanami blinked. You gaped. Megumi and Nobara went pale in sheer horror, ready to murder their friend on the spot for his extreme height of rudeness.

“Itadori-kun,” Nanami cleared his throat then, and if he was offended, then he chose not to show it. “First of all, I’m sorry for not introducing you sooner. This is Y/N, my wife, and yes,” his tone hardened slightly, “She’s carrying our first child.”

“S-so you are married!”

“Yes, that was what I—”

“What the hell?! NANAMIIII!”

Oh, the freaking phone. After his fall, Yuji’s phone ended up on the floor, and of course, Gojo did hear all of the entire madness, evident from how his voice blared from the phone.

Nanami frowned, unwittingly reaching out towards the phone. “Who—?”

“NA-NA-MI!" Gojo screeched in righteous exasperation, and the former immediately pulled away from the phone with a cringe. “How could you?! I invited you to my wedding! Are you a hermit or something��how could not tell anyone!? Didn’t you say I can officiate—”

“I said no such thing. Please refrain from saying outrageous things, it’s both annoying and misleading,” Nanami stressed, growing more irritated by the mere sound of Gojo's whining voice and feeling his patience waning rapidly.

"Aren't we friends?! How—!"

"Should I find you instigate one more of this... shenanigans with the kids, I won't hesitate to report you to Yaga and your wife," he interjected then with clear irritation, and right that second, Gojo shut himself up.

Yuji, Nobara and Megumi couldn't help drawing that one conclusion in wonder: So, that's what Gojo-sensei is afraid of.

Nanami swiftly ended the call with a flick of his finger, returning the phone to the still mystified Yuji. Turning back to the trio, Nanami's irritation simmered as he glanced at the mess of broken goods on the floor, as well as noticing the approaching clerks.

"You three..." Nanami started, his voice rising slightly, unfaltering even as the three of them flinched. "Do you realize what you've done? Are you so idle that you can ditch your assignments?"

"Kento, don't be too harsh," you rebuked, placing a hand on his arm with a frown on your face. Nanami sighed, looking over the situation once again. It was a whole rack of baby necessities destroyed; plates, glasses, and whatnot scattered across the floor.

Nobara bit her lip in anxiety. “Oh my god, who's going to pay for all this damage?” She could already imagine the staggering amount this mess would cost. This is worth millions, anyone can go bankrupt.

There was only one person who can and will. Immediately, both Nanami and Megumi turned to her with a shared resolve.

"Gojo," Megumi blurted.

"He will be charged for everything," Nanami added with spite.

Epilogue

"You just love those kids, don't you, Kento?"

That night, when both of you were ready for sleep, Nanami had one hand caressing your still growing belly, and you teased him with a chuckle.

"Huh?" your husband looked at you in mild confusion as he stopped stroking you. "What do you mean?"

You giggled again. "You said to put it on Gojo's name, but in the end, you were the one who covered the damages first."

Nanami huffed lightly. "That's because I can't get the kids in trouble. But mark my words, I'll make sure Gojo pays up later, by force if I need to." He made a face when he remembered just what a massive bill it was. "That's too much money to be spent carelessly. We have our child and our future to consider."

"You're always like that," you sighed fondly, taking his hand and placing it back to the swell of your belly. "Always on the first line of defense for the students." Your smile widened. "It makes me think... just how lucky our kid will be with you as their father."

"On the contrary, I'm counting my blessings that they'll have someone as soft as you for their mother," your husband retorted with a smile, kissing your temple. And your heart melted into a puddle by his affectionate gesture.

"That's too sweet... ah, yeah," suddenly, you were reminded of a critical thing. “Kento, have you ever considered telling everyone else that we're married? At least to people at school?”

Nanami always wanted privacy for safety reasons most of the time, and you understood that, but seeing that Gojo and the first years knew already, you thought it might be the best time to let everyone know.

"I honestly don’t see the need to, why?"

"People like Gojo are confused—"

Your husband rolled his eyes then. "Don’t worry, dear. People like Gojo exist to spread the word so we don't have to."

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nobodysuspectsthebutterfly · 3 months

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FYI artists and writers: some info regarding tumblr's new "third-party sharing" (aka selling your content to OpenAI and Midjourney)

You may have already seen the post by @staff regarding third-party sharing and how to opt out. You may have also already seen various news articles discussing the matter.

But here's a little further clarity re some questions I had, and you may too. Caveat: Not all of this is on official tumblr pages, so it's possible things may change.

(1) "I heard they already have access to my data and it doesn't really matter if I opt out"

From the 404 article:

A new FAQ section we reviewed is titled “What happens when you opt out?” states “If you opt out from the start, we will block crawlers from accessing your content by adding your site on a disallowed list. If you change your mind later, we also plan to update any partners about people who newly opt-out and ask that their content be removed from past sources and future training.”

So please, go click that opt-out button.

(2) Some future user: "I've been away from tumblr for months, and I just heard about all this. I didn't opt out before, so does it make a difference anymore?"

Another internal document shows that, on February 23, an employee asked in a staff-only thread, “Do we have assurances that if a user opts out of their data being shared with third parties that our existing data partners will be notified of such a change and remove their data?” Andrew Spittle, Automattic’s head of AI replied: “We will notify existing partners on a regular basis about anyone who's opted out since the last time we provided a list. I want this to be an ongoing process where we regularly advocate for past content to be excluded based on current preferences. We will ask that content be deleted and removed from any future training runs. I believe partners will honor this based on our conversations with them to this point. I don't think they gain much overall by retaining it.”

It should make a difference! Go click that button.

(3) "I opted out, but my art posts have been reblogged by so many people, and I don't know if they all opted out. What does that mean for my stuff?"

This answer is actually on the support page for the toggle:

This option will prevent your blog's content, even when reblogged, from being shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models.

And some further clarification by the COO and a product manager:

zingring: A couple people from work have reached out to let me know that yes, it applies to reblogs of "don't scrape" content. If you opt out, your content is opted out, even in reblog form. cyle: yep, for reblogs, we're taking it so far as "if anybody in the reblog trail has opted out, all of the content in that reblog will be opted out", when a reblog could be scraped/shared.

So not only your reblogged posts, but anyone who contributed in a reblog (such as posts where someone has been inspired to draw fanart of the OP) will presumably be protected by your opt-out. (A good reason to opt out even if you yourself are not a creator.)

Furthermore, if you the OP were offline and didn't know about the opt-out, if someone contributed to a reblog and they are opted out, then your original work is also protected. (Which makes it very tempting to contribute "scrapeable content" now whenever I reblog from an abandoned/disused blog...)

(4) "What about deleted blogs? They can't opt out!"

I was told by someone (not official) that he read "deleted blogs are all opted-out by default". However, he didn't recall the source, and I can't find it, so I can't guarantee that info. If I get more details - like if/when tumblr puts up that FAQ as reported in the 404 article - I will add it here as soon as I can.

Edit, tumblr has updated their help page for the option to opt-out of third-party sharing! It now states:

The content which will not be shared with our licensed network of content and research partners, including those that train AI models, includes: • Posts and reblogs of posts from blogs who have enabled the "Prevent third-party sharing" option. • Posts and reblogs of posts from deleted blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from password-protected blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from explicit blogs. • Posts and reblogs of posts from suspended/deactivated blogs. • Private posts. • Drafts. • Messages. • Asks and submissions which have not been publicly posted. • Post+ subscriber-only posts. • Explicit posts.

So no need to worry about your old deleted blogs that still have reblogs floating around. *\o/*

But for your existing blogs, please use the opt out option. And a reminder of how to opt out, under the cut:

The opt-out toggle is in Blog Settings, and please note you need to do it for each one of your blogs / sideblogs.

On dashboard, the toggle is at https://www.tumblr.com/settings/blog/blogname [replace "blogname" as applicable] down by Visibility:

For mobile, you need the most recent update of the app. (Android version 33.4.1.100, iOs version 33.4.) Then go to your blog tab (the little person icon), and then the gear icon for Settings, then click Visibility.

Again, if you have a sideblog, go back to the blog tab, switch to it, and go to settings again. Repeat as necessary.

If you do not have access to the newest version of the app for whatever reason, you can also log into tumblr in your mobile browser. Same URL as per desktop above, same location.

Note you do not need to change settings in both desktop and the app, just one is fine.

I hope this helps!

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4dbarbie-archive · 10 months

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4dbarbie remix: How to realise Self?

Disclaimer: This remix/mashup post was compiled by me, a student of 4dbarbie as a way to make sense of everything and to understand how to apply the knowledge practically. I went through all her posts and answered asks to make this which is made up of various parts of 25 49 (omg lol there was a lot of good stuff) different posts and answered asks. It is not an original post by 4dbarbie herself but all words are directly from her various posts and answered asks (except for my clarification notes which are in purple text in brackets & the last section after the last divider where I make some closing comments). Hopefully the way I've organised the information in this post makes sense and helps some Vanessas out there. ♡

Fair warning as this is a pretty long post essay (!) so maybe grab a cup of tea or something :) If you are really new to all this then take some time to really process it, there is no rush. My personal notes and highlights are in pink for main points and purple for 'action' points.

May we all realize our Self ♡

There would be no steps necessary, no process to undertake if you would just establish yourself in the I AM alone. You are so lost in your play you forget reality. 1 If you are "I AM", it means you are not the person experiencing the world/thoughts/circumstances, you never were. 2

The external world, you control it (because it is you!, in you), you make it, fully, even when you tell yourself you don't. 3 To know yourself as the source of all that is, you have to first remove the veil of what's stopping you from seeing it in the first place. To know your real being, you have to first abandon what you thought yourself to be. 4 There is no external life, there is no need to use any methods to recondition or train your mind. It is much faster, much easier and you are hundreds times happier just letting go of the mind. 5 The process is one of letting go more and more until you find yourself having nothing, being nothing. The thing about nothing though is that it's the only thing that can take the shape of everything. 6

A jeweler who wants to refashion an ornament, first melts it down to shapeless gold. Similarly, one must return to one's original state before a new name and form can emerge. The only way to renewal lies through destruction. You must melt down the old jewellery into formless gold before you can mold a new one. What refuses to die cannot be reborn. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 7

Stop thinking you are Vanessa, the thoughts of needing this or that drop away. By thinking you are it, you create a character who desires and then identify yourself with it. You can only have when you let go of thinking that you don't. To change, you need to give up this conviction of being this person. You need to disbelieve. 9

Most of you can't change because you are so desperate TO change... but there is nothing to want to change. Things just are. Don't work with changing self, just realize who self actually is. 10

You have it, all is well. Just stop believing the illusions born out of thinking you're a person. 11

Unless they understand who they really are, that Vanessa is a habit and nothing more - that nothing has existence outside of awareness, including her, that awareness assigns reality and is the only reality - they're always going to struggle to control something and get frustrated they don't see what they think they're aware of. What you're aware of is what you're being. You can't be aware of being something new while also being Vanessa. 12

Knowing is being. If you really knew, the thing you knew would be materialized. You know you are Vanessa so you're being Vanessa. Would you want Vanessa if you were her? No. You are her so you don't desire her. And you won't be able to be Vanessa 2.0 if you don't shed this Vanessa first. That is, let go of thinking the thoughts are yours. 8

Your memories of the life Vanessa lived are now and not in a past. You are imagining her past being now. Her past exists now because you are aware of it now. If you were Lara you would be aware of a different past, still now. Basically there was no yesterday and you are imagining "a past having been" today. 13

Anon: "Do I have to endure the world while I know my self as awareness and disbelieve that I am Vanessa???" Ada: THE POINT OF KNOWING YOURSELF AS AWARENESS IS TO DO WHATEVER THE HELL YOU WANT AT ALL TIMES, FOREVER. It's complete, incomparable freedom and power. It's the only real love. 14

You are either your Self with nothing attached to it or you're an ego. Disbelieve you were ever her. See what happens. 41

A lot of beliefs are subconscious. "I am a body", "I am Vanessa", "There is a world" are all subconscious, automatic beliefs. Upon investigation you can get rid of any belief (by making them conscious and then dropping them). 15 How do you drop a belief? (see part 1 and part 2)

HOW TO STOP?

The body and the mind are only symptoms of ignorance, of misapprehension. Behave as if you were pure awareness, bodiless and mindless, spaceless and timeless, beyond 'where' and 'when' and 'how'. Dwell on it, think of it, learn to accept its reality. Don't oppose it and deny it all the time. Keep an open mind at least. Make your mind and body express the real which is ALL and beyond all. By doing, you succeed. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj

You need not take time to meditate or put time aside to contemplate and "apply". All you need to do is detach from this form during the day, let life happen as it happens while reminding yourself it's a dream, a dream that doesn't have to be yours. 16 It is your own desire to hold on to it that creates the problem. Let go. Stop imagining that the dream is yours. As long as you give reality to dreams, you are their slave; see all as a dream and stay out of it. 17

You imagine that there is an external world in which the you that you're identified with lives, but all of that is in your mind. Stop imagining it's true and it dissolves, which can only mean it never was. Which can only mean you assigned reality to it by thinking you're it 18

I've said it before, you don't have to convince Vanessa that she's unreal. Just stop taking the thoughts you don't like for truth or reality. There is no convincing involved, it is all letting go... you're holding so tightly onto your ideas now, that's why you can't see their falsity. 19 You don't have to convince anyone of anything. What I teach here is to leave your mind alone, that is all. Don't go along with it. 2 Thoughts will keep on coming for a while, just now you know they have nothing to do with you. Get into a habit of watching, letting them be but not identifying with them. If you can observe them, it means you are not them. 32 Doesn't matter what the thought is, leave it alone, ignore it BUT not by force of will, just indifference. We've established you aren't the ego, alright? Thoughts, right now, are from the ego. 20

Thoughts of the past life come, remember they no longer have anything to do with you. Literal full delusion (I only call it that because after being identified with a person for so long, it's mind-blowing to grasp you are not that). Thoughts are not yours, complete indifference - no need to fight them. Where they come from, none of your business. Only know they are not yours. YOU not being in your desired reality is a thought, got it? This body and this world are not forced onto you, they exist through your identification with them. Not yours, remember? Repeat. Not yours. You won't lose your mind, you'll only lose your misery. After you've detached, you'll easily shift to as many realities as you want - don't put any on a pedestal of desire, they are equal. See this world and the body as not real first. What is true is only what I AM is identified with, right now this body which is not in that TV show (referring to anon's desire). Correct this first by letting go of thinking it's you. 21

You don't need to convince yourself they're unreal, just dismiss them as not yours. They will disappear more and more through your newfound indifference, then their physical counterparts will, too. Detachment is by doubt and indifference. First you start doubting "the facts", then you become indifferent to the facts, lastly there are no facts anymore and you can establish your own. 20

Start letting go bit by bit, just to see what happens, you won't start "acting crazy" just because you become uninterested in thoughts, I promise 22

What I recommend you to do is bring your self into focus, become aware of your own existence. See how you function, watch the motives and the results of your actions. Study the prison you have built around yourself because of credulity. By knowing what you are not, you come to know your self. The way back to your self is through refusal and rejection. 23

Here's a scale of emotions you go through, from bottom to top: apathy, grief, fear, hostility, anger, indifference, acceptance, freedom finally - and then unlimited, independent joy. You can review this to see where you are on the journey and what should come next. You can't skip them, all of them have to happen for you to have the all. 14

Do not try to understand any more, just be. And let other things be as they are. Even if you're not happy about what you see, there is no way around it besides accepting it. As long as you fight it and try so hard & incessantly to change it, you're only giving it further reality. 14

If you are angry or in pain, separate yourself from anger and pain and watch them. Step away and look. The physical events will go on happening, but by themselves they have no importance. It is your mind alone that matters. When you identify yourself with them, you are their slave, you think you have to act on them. When you stand apart, you are their master. 24

One thing is certain: the real is not imaginary, it is not a product of the mind. 23

You are beyond the mind. Mind and body become your servants once you discover your Self. The present moment is all that is, so yes - become aware of having never been the ego, of your ego being just one of your creations. Ego is the concept of individuality, of separation from the “I", and the All. Therefore ego is a false assumption. We are really the Supreme Reality, we are not separate from It. To "fix" the separation, reject what you are not. Only look at who you are, over and over and over until it becomes the permanent identification and replaces the ego. 25

Once you are convinced that you cannot say truthfully about your self anything except ‘I am’, and that nothing that can be pointed at, can be your self, the need for the ‘I am’ is over — you are no longer intent on verbalising what you are. All you need is to get rid of the tendency to define your self. All definitions apply to your body only and to its expressions. Once this obsession with the body goes, you will revert to your natural state, spontaneously and effortlessly. 23

Drop the false ideas first and watch. After what keeps you stuck goes, you can do whatever you want. You can think the ugliest thoughts and nothing will happen if you know yourself as who you are. It's your identification with the thought that causes the thought to be true. 26

The guilt is because you think you're running out of time and you need to change "your" life now. Be patient with yourself because you don't lose any time, just get to that place I'm telling you about and then you can just go back in time if you so wish. All worry is pointless! And there is nothing to fear, things just happen, do not claim them as yours for a while. Unclutter your mind, it becomes your servant after you've freed it enough. 27

She (Vanessa) will vanish yes, you ask how because you still think waking is more real than a dream. Do your dreams not vanish? Do you wonder how they vanish? They just stop existing all of a sudden when you go into another dream (waking). What if you've lived all your life as Ada and woke up one morning and were suddenly Vanessa with no memory of Ada, would you know anybody vanished? Nope. All you know is who you are right now (because present is all that is), which is Vanessa. 28 Leave poor Vanessa alone, with both her desires and fears, disbelieve you are her until reality becomes self-obvious.

By being your Self you gain the freedom of existing as anything, anytime. You don't lose Vanessa's pretty body if you don't want to stop imagining yourself as being Vanessa with her pretty body. 29

Nothing is lost, awareness just shifts. You can always go back. We're just removing the obstacles that stop you from having this freedom of choice (your identification with this person). You can completely wipe out Vanessa's existence as well. Later if you change your mind, you can make it so that she actually existed again. You are no form, you are formless, the form only is when you imagine there is a form, be your favorite form and dream beautiful dreams :) 30

There is no difference between sleeping and waking, awareness is the background of both. You just think the waking state more real because you've dreamt it over and over and reinforced your belief. They're equally imaginary. Become aware of this and life will forever be a breeze. 31

All depends on you. It is by your consent that the world exists. Withdraw your belief in its reality and it will dissolve like a dream. Cease from looking for happiness and reality in a dream and you will wake up. - I Am That, Nisargadatta Maharaj 17

Your next step will be realizing there is nothing to learn in a dream. You'll find yourself having less and less thoughts, then none at all. Then, only if you want, you will be able to reinstall the mind, now of your choice, and change the dream. 16

Past doesn't come up anymore, memories don't come up anymore after you've ignored (thoughts) & detached yourself enough. They just don't. You can think freely now about being something different. If you can't, don't get mad, don't blame, only know that the one that's doubting isn't you, so the doubts are totally fine to be. They'll be for a while and then they dissolve too, because by ignoring, not getting involved - you forget. And by forgetting not only do you free up so much mental space, but possibilities of what can be, become unnumbered. 36 Anon: Is it okay to feel completely indifferent after learning about this stuff? Like, not feeling as worried about what is playing in front of me since I know its not me Ada: That's the goal. Then become indifferent to the thoughts you get as well. Those aren't yours either. You'll become aware they've dissolved & you can reconstruct the mind however you want because you have no attachment to past beliefs anymore. 33

Even the process is very beautiful... but the very best is when your Self becomes the permanent background instead of Vanessa. Now you always return to Vanessa, later you'll forget to consider her ♡ Dream not of a character who wants and desires, there is nothing to long for — only things to be. 16

To not depend on anything but everything to depend on you is a top state you can grasp with no method. 5 The experience is of being empty, uncluttered by memories and expectations; it is like the happiness of open spaces, of being young, of having all the time and energy for doing things, for discovery, for adventure. A sense of 'there is nothing wrong with me. I have nothing to worry about'. But not one you condition yourself into like you conditioned yourself into a body, it is one that naturally and effortlessly dawns on you by itself when you reject all else, because it is your natural state. 34 Real freedom and real love only emerge when you're not identified with a transient ego. 35

All you are doing is becoming lucid. Becoming able to control the dream. You won't be able to, unless you step out of it. That is, stop thinking this story you tell yourself is true. When Vanessa is no longer all you are, you'll be able to 'change reality' the way you change the film in a video projector. You'll be able to have as much fun in the play as you want to, change it when you no longer want this one specifically. The emotions of the character are fun and welcomed, because they no longer imprison you, there's the background of love to it all - that once you gain, it can't be lost, it's ever present. 36

What you are identified with materializes. If you are not, it disappears. 37

Just let go of the ego, that’s how simple it is. All you need to fix is your wrong identification. There isn't anyone who couldn’t materialize anything right now if he or she would just let go of identifying as the limited body. 38

Only by letting go of all do you gain everything. But once it's done, it's done irreversibly. Fear is no more, control is fully yours. You are free, completely. And with the bliss of freedom no human pleasure compares. You become full love, full power. The absolute and only power. Sooner or later, you will arrive at the same conclusion. You can't stop being what you are, all else can stop existing, but you can't. The only thing you have a choice in is delaying seeing it by thinking you are this or that. Only see it (I Am), then you can imagine whatever you want and it will be. 39

If you project the world, it is within your power to change it. But you must stop identifying yourself with it first. Go beyond, then you have all the power to destroy and recreate. All everybody wants is to be free, but to do that you must know two things: what you are to be free from and what keeps you bound. 2

Your own self is your ultimate teacher, the outer teacher is merely a milestone. It is only your inner teacher that will walk with you to the goal, because he is the goal. - Nisargadatta Maharaj 40

Got more questions? Recommended reading:

Ada's recommended guides on realizing Self: 1, 2, 3

My recommended posts from Ada*: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5

All references from the remix post

Books: I Am That by Nisargadatta Maharaj** and Keys to The Ultimate Freedom by Lester Levenson

*in addition to the sources linked in the post **a lot of her posts incorporate quotes and excerpts from this book, moreso than Lester Levenson's Keys to The Ultimate Freedom and she also shared a lot of excerpts from the book

What does this look like when applied?

Experience is the best teacher and learning from other's experiences and how they applied this knowledge can be really valuable and insightful. I don't define success based on materialising things necessarily although that is one result of realizing Self.

From 4dbarbie students: see the tag

Other: 1, 2

Okay, what to do after reading all this?

Apply apply apply. Don't wait, nothing will happen by waiting. There is only now. Inquire who is causing trouble and to whom. You can't think yourself into realization. 'You' are beyond the mind. You are the creator of the mind. It must be experienced.

#remix #4dbarbie #nonduality #non duality #nondualism #non dualism

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thef1diary · 3 months

Text

Little Big Fan | Eleven

— Little Big Schooldays

Series Masterlist

wc: 2k

The last few days felt like a dream, one that you never wanted to wake up from.

Every morning after your date night, Max would come over with a coffee for you and a doughnut for your daughter. Then, he'd greet you with a kiss before entering your home. "Hm, I could get used to that," you told him, already having a great start to the day.

However, your morning didn't start like that today. Instead of you, Max was greeted by Isabella. "Good morning, princess," he ruffled her hair until she slapped his hands away—a moment they always shared whenever they met.

"This is for you," he passed her the doughnut. Isabella excitedly took it out of the wrapper, thanking him as soon as she took a bite.

"Maxy," she began and he turned to face her, "yes?" She chuckled before she even got the words out, "why do you come over everyday?"

Max frowned, "do you not like it?" He asked, but Isabella shook her head quickly, "I mean, why don't me, you and mama have a sleepover instead?"

"You want me to stay over?" he asked, smiling. He wanted clarification, even though he knew what she meant. Unbeknownst to her, his heart was bursting with happiness. Although the dynamics between him and Isabella remained the same after you began dating Max—mostly because she didn't know of it yet—he was extremely concerned about Isabella's reaction to him. So knowing she liked him now gave him hope that she would still want him around after you reveal the relationship.

Isabella nodded, "yes! We will have so much fun." He nodded along with her, "we can ask your mom later."

Max noticed your absence in the room, "speaking of, where's your mama?" He asked your daughter.

"She's working in her office," Isabella spoke, sitting on the couch to savour her doughnut.

Knowing his way around your house now, Max found you working away in your office with your head buried in paperwork.

He knocked on the doorframe to grab your attention since the door itself was open and he was met with a tired smile from you. "Is it morning already?" You questioned as he rounded the desk, and you were too tired to stand up so he crouched down and wrapped his arms around you.

You reached up as much as you could to wrap your arms around his shoulders. "Have you been working all night?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled as his head rested in the crook of your neck.

Parting away, you shrugged, eyeing the two empty cans of energy drinks on the floor. Technically, it was Max's fault that you had to keep a stock of it at home. Grazing your cheek with his thumb, he sighed, "you need to go to sleep right now."

You pulled away entirely, turning your chair to face your laptop and began typing away again. "I can't, I have so much to do," you shook your head as you spoke.

Max muttered your name, "c'mon, let's go to bed," he suggested and when you stopped typing, he assumed that you'd agree.

Noticing the time, you gasped, "I have to get Bella ready for school!" A yawn left your mouth as you spoke, and Max immediately knew right then that he had to get you to your room as soon as possible.

He grasped on to the back of your chair, dragging it away from the desk so you could no longer touch any keys on the laptop nor any papers. "Max!" You exclaimed, trying to reach something to stop moving but he made a sound of protest. "No ma'am, you are going to bed right now."

You didn't stop trying to convince him otherwise by listing out all the tasks you had to do for the day but he didn't budge. "You need energy to do those tasks and that is exactly why you need to rest," he finalized, stopping the chair once it was right next to your bed.

"What about Isabella?" You asked, and Max didn't even hesitate for a moment before replying, "I'll drop her to school."

He looked at you with a pointed gaze, gesturing for you to move from the chair to the bed, and you huffed before complying. "What about her breakfast and lunch? Oh and her hair too," you stressed, wanting to get up and continue your usual morning routine.

Max, however, pulled the blanket up to your shoulders and pressed his lips against yours to quiet down all the thoughts running through your mind. "Like I said, I'll do it," he stated after parting away.

"Will you come back after?" Looking at your face, Max desperately wanted to stay, but he was also looking forward to his new responsibilities. "Of course."

You called out his name as he turned to leave, but a yawn interrupted your words. With a tired smile on your face, you muttered, "thank you."

Walking back downstairs, Max called out to Isabella. "You're going to have to help me out here, I'm taking you to school today." She perked up once she heard his words, although with confusion taking over her expressions. "Why, what happened to mama?"

Max headed towards the kitchen with Isabella right on his tail. "Your mama is very tired so we’re going to let her sleep," he told her. He watched as Isabella thought for a moment before shrugging, "okay."

"Great, I'll make breakfast, you go change," he suggested and earned a nod from the little girl. "Are you going to do my hair?" She asked before walking backwards towards the stairs. "I'll try," he spoke truthfully and shrugged, making Isabella laugh.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Max called out since she had already begun climbing the stairs. "Pancakes!" He heard her yell back in response.

Then it was quiet. Max sighed, looking around the kitchen, "pancakes, okay, you can do this."

Fortunately, he knew a recipe from one of his friends, and began preparing the ingredients. In the process, his phone buzzed with a text, from you. "Are you sure you don't need help?"

He sighed, almost chuckling at your persistence. "This is the one and only time I don't want you to text me. Go to sleep"

He was relieved that he had not received any messages after that, and he resumed mixing the pancake batter. The first few pancakes were crispier than usual, and were nowhere near the proper shape. He placed it away on his plate and tried again to cook up appealing ones for Isabella.

Isabella tiptoed downstairs to avoid waking you up. "Look, Maxy," she twirled to show off the outfit she was wearing. "Very nice, princess," Max commented.

Fortunately, you had already chosen her outfit the night before, which made it easier for her to get dressed this morning. "Can you make two braids for me?"

Max paused his actions and looked at her with a wide eyed expression, "two braids?"

Isabella sat up on the bar stool, placing down the items she held in her hand on the countertop. It included various clips, bows, hair ties, and a comb. She brought everything down that you usually used in her hair to make it easier for Max.

She had no idea, however, that the poor guy was trying to figure out how to make not one, but two braids. He was mostly used to his nephews, and even then when they cried, he'd hand them over to his sister. Despite having a younger sister, he has never learnt anything about hairstyles or other such things surprisingly.

That made him realize he wanted to learn, albeit not right away, but he did want to learn all the basic skills for situations such as this.

"I can make a normal ponytail?" He suggested instead, and Isabella thought for a moment before responding with another question, "will you still add the clips?"

"Of course!" He could do that, it shouldn't be too hard. She nodded in agreement, and Max placed the plate stacked with pancakes doused in maple syrup in front of her.

As Isabella ate, Max packed her lunch. Truthfully, he was scrambling around, glancing at the clock every few seconds to ensure that he wasn't running late.

"Maxy?" Isabella started, a small pout forming on her lips. "Do I have to go to school today?"

"Do you have a good reason to not go?" Max countered, debating whether he should agree with her or not. "I'm tired," she stated or more so questioned and Max had to stop himself to chuckling.

"I think you're lying, Bella," Max decided and Isabella sighed loudly, "but why do I have to go today?"

"Your mama will think that I can't follow instructions to send you to school," he spoke truthfully. That caused Isabella to chuckle, "are you going to get in trouble?"

"If you don't go, yes," he nodded. "Okay, then I'll go."

It took Max three tries to make a ponytail before Isabella was satisfied with the result. The first time it was too bumpy, and the second time it was pulled too tight.

He scattered a few clips in her hair, and once she looked in the mirror and held a thumbs up in response, Max felt like he could finally breathe a sigh of relief.

He buckled Isabella into the car seat after making sure she had everything she needed. In order to avoid problems in the future, he had recently purchased a carseat fit for a six year old to put in his car.

"Are you gonna drive fast?" Isabella asked, and Max glanced at her through the mirror with a grin. He didn't reply; instead, he quickly accelerated and saw the cheerful delight light up her face. Granted that he had prioritized their safety, it is evident that he wasn't speeding up excessively but it was still fast enough for Isabella.

Isabella guided Max toward the main entrance while she held his hand, primarily to ensure he wouldn't be left behind. A teacher stood by the door, holding it for all the students entering. Once she spotted Isabella and Max, she smiled brightly.

"Good morning, Miss," Isabella greeted, but her teacher's gaze was only on Max. "Good morning, I have never seen you here before," the teacher told him, introducing herself.

Isabella stood there with crossed arms, watching how Max shuffled closer to the little girl as he spoke to the teacher. "Maxy," she interrupted, immediately gaining his attention.

She extended her arms for a hug, and an attempt to bring an end to the conversation. He crouched and placed his arms around her. "I don't like her," Isabella said, eliciting a chuckle from him.

"I'll see you soon, Bella," Max stated, and watched the teacher lead her inside the school. "Let's go Bella," he could hear the teacher's words but Isabella's response surprised him even further. "My name is Isabella, only the people I like can call me Bella."

Returning home, Max dashed upstairs to your bedroom as fast and quietly as possible, sighing in relief when he noticed you were still asleep. He paused for a moment, unsure whether to climb in or not. But then he recalled your conversation earlier in which you said that you wanted him to return, so he drew the blankets back on his side of the bed and settled down.

A few minutes later, you turned around to face him, eyes still closed but you rested your arm over his chest. "Thank you," you sleepily mumbled. He brushed his fingers through your hair, "you're welcome."

Max usually didn't take naps during the day, but with the cozy atmosphere in your room, he couldn't help but fall asleep with you in his arms.

Taglist: @xjval @mrsmaybank13 @cherry-piee @urfavnoirette @solphin @burningcupcakefire @nessacarty1 @dreamsarebig @omgsuperstarg @fanficweasley @redbullgirly @llando4norris @wonnou @randomgirlnumber13 @dark-night-sky-99 @chanshintien @leilanixx @gisellesprettylies @peachiicherries @monsieurbacteria6 @67-angelofthelordme-67 @arian-directioner @distancedss @morenofilm @sachaa-ff @lighttsoutlewis @teamnovalak @casperlikej @sadg3 @d3kstar @lewisvinga @lpab @queenofmanydreams @honethatty12 @drunk-teens-doing-drugs @its-avalon-08 @yourbane @oconswrld @noneofyourfbusinessworld @ssrcsm @softtina @hockeyboysarehot @formulaal @namgification @tallrock35 @bloodyymaryyy @formulanni @ellouisa17 @phantomxoxo @samantha-chicago

#max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen fic #f1 fluff #fluff #f1 x reader #little big fan fic

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vampireimiko · 11 months

Note

pregnant reader x miguel o’hara: gabis first parent teacher conference and they’ve gotta explain why she keeps saying her dads gonna whoop the kids ass whenever they piss her off

parent teacher conference

warnings, none at all !! just like 1 cuss word or something 💀

note, THANK YEW FOR REQUESTING VENUS 🫶🏾🫶🏾, this is the longest oneshot ive ever made😭 anyway i hope you all enjoy !!

It's Parent Teacher Conference night, and Miguel finds himself sitting near the back of the auditorium to keep an eye on the meeting. There seems to be a bit of arguing between teachers and parents about the workload being too much for some students, when he senses a presence next to him and looks up to see that you, his wife, sits to his left, who is visibly pregnant and with her own plate filled with food.

"Oh my god- Miguel! This food is so good, do you want some?" You said, mouth full of a bit of everything on your plate. Miguel chuckled at your antics and shook his head no.

"As entertaining as this is" He says pointing towards the arguments in front of him, "I'm just ready to have our 1 on 1 with Gabriella's teacher."

You agreed with him, as you two had been sitting here for quite some time. But just like clockwork, Gabriella's teacher, Ms. Rose walked up to you and Miguel letting you know she was ready to have your conference.

Ms. Rose greeted you both with a warm smile, her eyes briefly glancing at your visibly pregnant belly before focusing on the matter at hand. "Thank you both for being here tonight! I appreciate your dedication to Gabriella's education."

You exchanged a nod and a smile, grateful for the teacher's acknowledgment. Miguel stepped forward, his voice filled with genuine interest. "We're looking forward to hearing about Gabriella's progress and any areas where we can support her better."

"Of course! Please if you could follow me to my classroom and we can get straight into discussing." With that being said, you and Miguel get up from the seats with him having to help you. It was getting hard for you stand up by yourself and you absolutely could not wait to have this baby out of you. Anyway enough of that, you and Miguel make your way too the classroom following behind Ms. Rose.

She opens the door and encourages you two to sit wherever. As you settled into the seats, she began sharing Gabriella's achievements and areas for improvement, providing a comprehensive overview of her academic journey.

The both of you listened to her intently, focusing on what Gabriella needed a bit more help on. You and Miguel took turns asking questions and clarification's on certain things. You could tell Ms. Rose genuinely cared about her students, taking the time to learn they're strengths and challenges.

"Now despite Gabriella being absolutely wonderful, there is one more thing I'd like to address." Ms Rose said switching her tone to a more serious one. You and Miguel looked at one another then back at her.

"Yes?"

"I've been overhearing Gabriella tell people that Mr. O'Hara here would come up to the school and in her words, 'whoop anybody who pisses me off'."

The both of your eyes widened. Miguel knew he said that, you know he said that, hell even the baby inside of you knew he said it! Not only did be say that, but he meant it aswell. Nobody is messing with his babygirl.

"Miguel!" You slapped his shoulder, putting on a serious front up in front of Ms. Rose, knowing damn well you wanted so badly to burst out laughing.

The room fell into an awkward silence as Ms. Rose observed the exchange between you, Miguel, and your shared reaction. Your attempt to maintain a serious demeanor in front of her was quickly crumbling as your suppressed laughter threatened to burst forth.

Miguel's face turned a shade of red, realizing the weight of his words and the potential consequences they might have had. He cleared his throat, trying to compose himself, his eyes darting between you, Ms. Rose, and the floor.

"I-I apologize Ms. Rose. That was a misguided attempt at humor. I never intended for her to come to school and say something like that." He said rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

Ms. Rose, her expression a mix of amusement and understanding, nodded. "I appreciate your honesty, Miguel. It's essential to address such statements to ensure a safe and inclusive environment for everyone."

You struggled to contain your laughter, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Taking a deep breath, you managed to compose yourself enough to speak without bursting into giggles. "Yes, Ms. Rose, we apologize for any confusion caused. We'll make sure to have a conversation with Gabriella about appropriate language and the importance of respectful interactions."

Ms. Rose's lips curved into a gentle smile. "I understand that children can sometimes pick up on our words and interpret them in unexpected ways. It's important for us as adults to model the behavior we want to see in them."

Fast foward to being done with the conference, you and Miguel were walking too the car. He stopped the both of you and you furrow your eyebrows in confusion as he leans down to your stomach.

"Just to let you know, that same statement in there goes for you too."

𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞; 𝐖𝐎𝐎 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐧𝐨𝐰 !! 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬, 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐦 (𝐢𝐟 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐟𝐮𝐥) 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐝 !!

𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐢𝐭 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

#spirits works 🤍#miguel o'hara x fem!reader #black!reader #x black reader #miguel o'hara x black reader #spiderverse x reader #atsv x black reader #atsv x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #x black fem reader #black reader

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jpmarvel90 · 4 months

Text

Don't Belong part 2

Masterlist Natasha Masterlist

Part 1

Word Count: 5499

Relationship: Mother WandaNat x Daugher Reader

Summary: After Y/n's accident on her mission, her mother's are terrified that they might not get the chance to make things right with their daughter. That's assuming Y/n wants anything to do with them when she comes around.

Nat: Mama Wanda: Mom

Nat's POV:

It's been over 24 hours since Y/n came out of surgery and she's still unconscious with a machine helping her breathe. I thought she would have been awake by now and there'd be a relief that she was on the start of her long road to recovery.

Instead, Wanda and I are glued to our seats next to her bed. We've only gotten up to use the bathroom. Otherwise, we've remained by her side. Pepper kindly offered to take the boys for as long as it's needed. Though they are both very anxious to see Y/n themselves. They might be young, but they understand that she's hurt. They love their sister, and they want her to wake up just as much as we do.

I've not slept since we found out that she was hurt, and I don't plan to until she is awake. Though the longer it goes on, the more my body is fighting against that desire. I want to be there when she wakes up to show her that her moms are going to be there for her the whole way through her recovery.

Wanda and I have spoken a lot over the last day. We've shared our pain and sadness, whilst making sure we come up with a plan to help her with her recovery and to ultimately gain her forgiveness.

We both know that Y/n will not forgive us easily, if at all. But that doesn't mean that we're not going to try with everything in us. For too long we've allowed her to go about her life thinking that we don't love or care for her anymore. She has every right to feel that way after how we've treated her. But she will not ever question that again.

The both of us are sat in silence, both of us watching over our daughter. My eyes are trained on her chest, making sure that she is still breathing, gaining a lot of comfort from the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest. However, the silence doesn't last long until the door flies open.

Out of instinct, both Wanda and I shoot up from our seats and take a defensive stance in front of our daughter to protect her from any danger. However, we soon relax when we see Yelena's worried face. "I came as soon as I could." She tells us as she moves closer to the bed, her hand hesitant as it reaches out towards her niece.

Yelena has been away for most of the time over the last few years. She's been helping to find all the widows and has only come back for a couple of days at a time. Each time though, she has always made time for us. "How is she?" She asks, as I pull up another chair for my sister.

"It's not good. She's still in critical condition. They had to remove part of her liver, but Cho reckons that if she can get through these first few days, that she'll be on track for a full recovery." I fill her in as her eyes never leave Y/n. "Clint said that it was a double agent that set her up." She states and we nod in clarification. "I'll be paying a visit to Fury when I'm done here." She announces, an anger to her voice. "We've tried to see him, but Fury won't let us anywhere near him." Wanda warns her but Yelena just scoffs. "I'll get to him one way or another." She states and I believe her. She's incredibly protective of the people she loves, and she'll want to make sure that he pays. I actually hope that she does.

"Wait, you said you were with Clint?" I question her and she nods. "Yeah, he was with me on my last mission. He's waiting outside, he didn't want to intrude." She responds, pointing towards the window behind her where Clint is stood with a young girl next to him. "Who's with him?" I ask. "Kate Bishop. Clint's stray. He's going to see if she can join Shield." Yelena explains. "She was with us and had no where else to go so I said she could stay here for now." She adds on. If Clint thinks she's worthy of Shield, then I believe that she is. She must also be good if Yelena has been working with her. She wouldn't let anyone help who would slow her down.

"How long are you back for?" Wanda steps in with her own question, making my own ears prick up for her response. "As long as I need to be. I want to be around to help with her recovery." Yelena replies, making me smile. Y/n is going to need all the help she can get, and she adores Yelena, so I'm glad that she's not going anywhere any time soon.

After a while, we indicate for Clint and Kate to come in. We go through our introduction, and I can see how enthusiastic Kate is. She's very chatty and I'm surprise she's not pissed off Clint and Yelena yet though! "I read about Y/n in the Young Initiative files." Kate shares. "Did you know she is the only recruit to ever get a perfect score. She could have passed the exams two years ago and still topped the class." She tells us enthusiastically. "Sounds like you're a fan." Yelena teases her, making the young girl blush. "I guess when your parents are the Black Widow and the Scarlett Witch, you're going to be good." Kate chuckles.

It makes my gaze drop, something that Yelena clocks on to instantly. She's not been around so hasn't seen how we've treated Y/n. I'm actually worried for when I tell her. She's going to hate us for it and I'd be surprised if she even lets us stay around Y/n. "Y/n did it all on her own. With a little help from Steve. Her talent has come from her own ability and desire to be the best." Wanda corrects Kate, showing that we have no claim to how good Y/n is at being an agent. "Oh, that's even more impressive then. You must be really proud." She smiles at us and we both nod. "More than she'll ever know." I mutter.

__________

When Kate and Clint leave, Yelena is quick to question Wanda and I. We tell her of what's been going on and how ashamed we are and how much we want to be able to fix everything. "You don't deserve to fix it." She spits angrily at us. "It's no excuse to say that you got lost in the boys. Y/n is your daughter too and she needed you." She shouts, calling us both out on our actions. "We know Yelena. We can't take back how we've treated her. But I promise that we won't every do anything like that again!" I tell her sincerely. "No, you won't. I won't let you. If you are going to be back in her life as the parents you should have been, you have to be all in. You promised to be better than we had Natasha!" She tells me firmly with a finger jabbing into my chest.

"I know Yelena. I wish I had a valid excuse or reason for what we did. I will never forgive myself. I will always have a hatred towards myself for ever making her feel the way we did. But I'm not going to wallow and hide away from it. I want to own up to the mistake and try and fix it. I know that it's not going to be an easy fix, but I will stay here and face the brunt of the anger and pain that she's feeling because I will not give up on her. Not again." I tell her passionate. "Neither of us will. I promise you Yelena, we will do everything in our power to fix this." Wanda steps up and adds her own promise, taking my hand. At least we have each other through all of this.

Yelena doesn't speak, she just looks between the two of us, her chest heaving with anger. It's intimidating to be the one on the receiving end, but we deserve it. I'm glad that Yelena is here. She simple nods her head and that is the subject over with. For now.

That night, my body ultimately wins, and I end up getting a couple of hours sleep. Though it's full of nightmares that I can't seem to escape and then when I wake up, I'm terrified that Y/n will be awake already and I'll have missed it. But when my body wakes with a jolt, I'm met with my sleeping wife and still unconscious daughter.

I stretch out and move closer to the bed and take Y/n's bruised hand in my own. "I can't lose you. You are my daughter, blood or not and I love you so much. I know I haven't shown that to you and there is no excuse for that. I also know that you have every right to never forgive me. So, my only request, is please wake up. Please survive. I don't think I can live in a world without you in it." I plead with her. Hoping that somewhere in her subconscious she can hear me. I squeeze her hand, hoping for any response, but nothing comes.

The day goes by slower than usual. That is until Cho comes in to check on Y/n and gives us the good news that she should be able to breathe without the ventilator now. Wanda and I step outside as we watch through the window. We're holding on to each other tightly as we watch. "This is good. She's strong and this is the first step to her waking up." Wanda speaks. I can hear the hesitation in her voice, showing that she is trying to convince herself more than anything. "You're right. She is so strong. I know she's going to wake up soon." I add on, smiling at my wife.

Cho soon joins us with a smile. "She's doing well. She's now breathing easily on her own. I expect she'll wake up within a few hours. I'll be back to do a full examination then so we can assess her injuries." She informs us. I feel a sense of relief wash over me. Hopefully it won't be long until our daughter is back with us.

The next couple of hours seems to drag by. Clint, Yelena and Kate all paid another visit but left to try and sort a room out for Kate in the compound. Steve was then the next to join us, taking a seat at the end of Y/n's bed. It's a long wait until we finally see a twitch to Y/n's eye.

I'm the first to my feet, leaning over to see if I had imagined the small movement. "Y/n, honey. It's mama. Can you hear me?" I ask her, fighting off the tears threatening to fall. With a flutter, her blues eyes lock on to mine. "She squeezed my hand." Wanda says excitedly. "Baby, we're here." She tells Y/n, who's got a confused look in her eyes.

"You're in the medical wing sweetheart. You got shot on your mission." I explain to her. "S-t-Steve." She stutters out. "He's fine. He's here." I reassure her, waving for Steve to come closer. "Hey kiddo. Boy we're glad to see you awake." He tells her with a relived smile. One that she returns. "I'll got and get Dr Cho." Wanda states, quickly leaving the room. "T-the m-mission." Y/n starts but Steve is quick to stop her. "Is not to worry about right now. Just know it wasn't your fault. But we'll explain it when you're doing better." He tells her, earning a nod. She reaches out her hand to Steve and he instantly takes it. "You're not allowed to scare us like that again." He chuckles, his voice wavering.

"S-sorry." She replies, her eyes fluttering again. "It's ok sweetheart. Don't fight it if you want to sleep again." I tell her softly. She doesn't really acknowledge me, but she does seem to listen as her eyes flutter shut once again.

They don't stay closed for long though, soon woken up by Cho as she comes in with a wide smile. "There's my favourite patient." She smiles at Y/n, who grins in return. "I bet you s-say that to e-everyone." Y/n responds through a struggled chuckle. "But with you I actually mean it." Cho winks, before looking over Y/n's chart and obs.

She takes the time to explain Y/n's injuries to her and the plan for her recovery. I see her face drop when she realises she's going to be in the hospital for at least another week before being on strict bed rest when she's discharged. "I'll be around if you need anything or have any questions. So please get one of the nurses to get me if you need me. That goes for all of you." Dr Cho offers. "Thank you. For everything." I tell her sincerely. She gives me a tightly smile before turning on her heel and leaving the three of us too it.

With Cho gone, it's silent in the med bay as Wanda, Steve and I just watch over Y/n. She is struggling to keep her eyes open, but I can see a pain in them when they lock on to mine. "You should get some rest kiddo." Steve speaks up as Y/n nods in return. "W-will you s-stay?" She asks, making Steve smile widely. "Of course." He returns, moving to get another chair to sit with us. At that confirmation, Y/n seems comfortable enough to let her eyes close and for sleep to take back over.

It's almost agony to see her asleep once again. We've been waiting for so long for her to wake up, for her to be asleep so soon is tough. I almost want to start apologising and showing her that we're going to change and it's going to stick. But I don't want to overwhelm her. At the moment, her recovery is the most important thing. As much as I hate it, earning her forgiveness will have to wait.

"Now she's awake, you two should head to your apartment. See the twins, eat some proper food, and get some sleep. I can stay with her." Steve offers, but I'm quick to decline. "I don't want to leave her." I tell him, whilst gripping her hand tighter, my eyes not leaving her sleeping form. Steve lets out a sigh. "She'll be asleep for a while, and she needs you both on top form." He tells us.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and look up to see Wanda smiling warmly at me. I hadn't even noticed that she had moved from the other side of the bed. "Steve's right. We've been here for days. If we want to do what's right by Y/n, then we need to look after ourselves as well." She speaks sense.

With a huff I stand from my seat and lean forward to press a kiss to Y/n's head. "We'll be back later sweetheart. I love you so much." I tell her softly then move so that Wanda can say goodbye too. With one last look to our daughter, we both reluctantly leave. Though I smile when I see Steve move closer and take Y/n's hand in his own. Although I will forever regret how we have treated Y/n, I'm glad that she has had Steve there for her.

Y/n's POV:

Well, that was not how I wanted my first mission to go. I wanted to impress everyone, not end up in the med bay with part of my liver missing! Waking up was a weird experience. Seeing my parents' faces were the last thing I expected to see. They seem genuinely worried, but that was probably all a front for everyone else. They can't be seen to not care about the daughter they've ignored for the last few years.

When I wake up next, I see Steve smile down at me. "You're still here." I say and he nods. "Of course. I wanted to make sure that you're ok." He replies, making my own smile grow. I look around and my smile drops when I see that my moms aren't here. I can't hide that it hurts a little that they didn't stick around. But I shouldn't care about that. They haven't cared about me.

"Should have guessed they would go once I woke up." I complain, wincing as I try to adjust myself in bed. "Careful Y/n/n." Steve scolds me as he shoots to his feet to help adjust my pillows. "I told them to go." He admits and I look at him with a frown. "Not like that. But they have not left your side since you were brought in. They weren't looking after themselves and if they are going to help you through your recovery, they need to be at 100%" He explains but I just scoff.

"I don't need their help with my recovery. They didn't care before I was hurt, they don't get to care now." I groan. Steve takes his seat again and looks at me with his, "I know I'm right" look. "Y/n. I know you don't believe it, but they do care for you. They were cut up when you got hurt. They were devastated that they wouldn't have the chance to be able to make things up to you." He says. I roll my eyes, but he continues. "Look, I'm not saying you have to forgive them. But you can't question how much they have cared for you over the last few days."

"Fine, but I'm not going back to their place to recover." I huff, folding my arms. "Considering you've been shot and in a medically induced coma for the last few days, it's good to see it hasn't affected your attitude." Steve teases.

We sit in silence as I think about my parents. They surely can't think that just because they've been sat beside my bed whilst I've been hurt is going to make up for everything that they have done over the years? Who's to say that they won't go back to how they were once I'm healed? I have a place at Sheild now. Somewhere that I can make a name for myself and create my own family.

"I'm sorry I messed up the mission." I break the silence, my mind now moving on to the fact I failed at my first mission. "You didn't fail anything kiddo. We were set up. If anything, I should apologise to you. They were after me, but you were the one to get hurt. You did a great job of take on as many agents as you did." He explains, taking my hand in his. "You fought, and it's because of your skill and ability that you're alive. You impressed everyone." He assures me, running his thumb over my bruised knuckles.

Our moment is broken when my moms walk back in. "You're awake!" Mom says excitedly as both her and mama move into the room quickly. Steve moves back from my side, which I frown at as mama takes my hand in hers. I'm quick to pull it away. The hurt that flashes across her face doesn't go unnoticed, but I'm not in the mood to pretend like everything is ok right now.

"How are you feeling?" Mom asks, appearing to my left. "I'm fine." I respond shortly, receiving a warning raised eyebrow from Steve. "Are you in pain? I can get the nurse to come in and get you some pain killers." Mom fusses. "I'm fine." I repeat the same words. "That's not true, you've been wincing since you've woken up." Steve rats me out. Traitor. "If a 40 calibre bullet went through you, I'm sure you'd be wincing too." I snap. "Told you. Amazing how your attitude hasn't changed." Steve chuckles.

However, both my mom's look at me with worried looks. "I'm going to get Dr Cho. You look pale." Mom worries before rushing out the room.

Mama reaches forward and places her hand on my head, which I quickly try and move away from her touch. "You're hot. I hope you're not running a fever." She states. "Like you care." I mumble, but she hears it and that look of hurt appears on her face again. "Look Y/n. I know you believe that we don't care or love you. But that couldn't be further from the truth. I want nothing more than to talk to you about it and start to make up for everything. But right now, all that matters is your recovery. You can hate us and ignore us or yell at us, but we are not going anywhere." She states firmly, her eyes locked on to mine. I just roll my eyes and turn to look at Dr Cho who has walking into the room.

She checks me over and I notice the frown on her face. "What's up?" I question. "I'm worried about your temperature. I want to run some tests, but with the inflammation to your incision, I'm worried you've got an infection. It's nothing to worry about as we've caught it early. But we'll need to keep a close eye on you." She replies. "So, no discharge yet then." I huff.

Cho chuckles and looks up from my chart. "It's funny you think you were close even without this infection." She teases. "Aren't you meant to be nice to me? I'm a patient after all." I pout. "If I'm on good behaviour, can I get out early?" I plead. "Maybe in a week. But you'll be on strict bed rest and need to be cared for. You're still technically a minor." Cho breaks the news and I know exactly what she's getting at. "But I'm 18 in like 4 days! Besides, I literally got shot on a mission for Shield. Surely that's enough?" I argue.

"Y/n, you are going to struggle to walk, let alone be able to properly look after yourself. Even after you're 18, you'll need support during your recovery. It isn't a simple road ahead for you." Dr Cho returns. "So, what are you saying?" I get straight to the point. "I'm recommending that you are discharged to your family. You'll be in the compound so if anything goes wrong, you can get the right medical attention straight away." She explains. "Really? There are no other options. Can't I stay with Steve or something?" I ask but she shakes her head.

"Y/n, come on. It's what is best for you. Your moms will be there to help. I'll be away on missions so can't give you the care you need." Steve speaks up, but soon shrinks back as I glare at him. "Really, what makes you think that I'll get the care I need at home?" I growl, my anger building. "Y/n..." Mama starts but I cut her off. "No! You can't just stand there and act like the caring parents when you have done nothing to back that claim up. I've been the forgotten daughter for years! Slowly I have been pushed out this family and now you want me to just act like everything is ok and trust that you'll look after me?!" I yell, that frustration finally finding its way out.

"Y/n, you need to calm down. Your heartrate is getting too high." Dr Cho tries to calm me down. "Kiddo. You're ok. You need to give them a chance." Steve tries to reason. "A chance like I was given? I've practically raised myself these last few years!" I snap. Why is he suddenly defending them?!

"Please sweetheart. You're going to make yourself sicker. We want to be there for you. We're not denying how badly we've treated you. But I promise that it will never happen again. You'll be safe with us. We just want to be able to care for you and help you get to full health." Mama speaks, her eyes filled with tears. I look between her, and mom and I see that she's almost inconsolable. "Do I have a choice?" I sigh, turning to Cho. "Technically, yes. But physically, you won't be able to follow through with it." She breaks the bad news. Suddenly the sounds of my heart monitor becomes noticeable so I lie back and take a couple of deep breaths. I can feel all their eyes on me, and I let out a sigh. "Fine whatever." I respond. I just need to do everything that Cho tells me so I can heal as fast as possible and move back to Shield and start my life again.

__________

The next few days are not fun. My infection hit me pretty hard, and I spent a lot of time either sweating or freezing whilst fighting the urge to throw up. I hate being stuck in this bed and I just want to be healthy again and being able to go on missions. Before it went south, I was loving it. Even if it was just a small one.

I'm also finding it hard that my mothers are suddenly around all the time. Mama is much better at not smothering me. Mom on the other hand, she is always fussing. But that's her and I used to love it when I was younger, when she actually cared about my wellbeing. "Wands, she's already said she has enough pillows." Mama sighs, her own frustrations growing. "Yes, sorry you did." Mom apologises, slowly putting the pillow down she had in her hands.

"Can I get you anything else? Some food. Though the food here is pretty horrible. When you're back home, I'll make sure to cook you something tasty with the food you're allowed to eat." She starts to ramble. I'm not going to lie, that does sound amazing, and I'd kill for a bowl of paprikash right now. I remember when mom taught me how to cook it. It was one of the last memories I have of us spending quality time together.

I don't realise I'm smiling until I see both my parents looking at me warmly. I quickly shake it off, not wanting to let them think that I'm enjoying this in the slightest. "You know what. A sandwich would be good." I say, taking them both by surprise. I've not been very talkative, but I could do with a break right now. I know I won't be able to get rid of both of them, but I can at least take a break from mom fussing.

"Of course. I'll go and make you something up and bring it down. The bread is always dry here." She speaks, grabbing a couple of things and turning to leave. "Maybe I'll check with Cho if you could have a smoothy." She mumbles, making mama chuckle as she leaves.

I let out a breath of relief. I feel slightly less suffocated. But I am still very aware of mama's eyes boring into me. I'm used to her being quiet. She always observes, making her conclusions before talking when it's necessary. But seeing her now, it feels different. I'm pretty good at reading people and I can tell that she is lost in her own thoughts. I've only seen her like it a couple of times before and it's been after particularly difficult missions. Ones that bring up bad memories for her.

I grab the TV remote and try and find something to watch. I end up with Rizzoli and Isles on. I don't really watch it, but the sound is helping to break the awkward silence. Just after they break the case in the show, I notice mama sit more upright in her seat.

"When I found you in Hydra, I knew instantly that I wanted to help you. There was something about you that melted my heart. When we found out that you had no family to return you to, it wasn't even a question, I knew I was going to adopt you. In that short space of time, I had spent with you, I grew to love you." She starts. I don't look to her, my focus on the TV.

"Even though you had been through so much, you had this happiness around you. You were grateful for everything and found the joy in the smallest thing. I just wanted to give you a life that you deserved. When I married Wanda, I was so happy that I could give you two loving parents." From the corner of my eye, I can see her smile tearily as she picks at the skin around her fingers.

"I failed you Y/n. When I adopted you, I promised that I would be the best parent to you. That you would never want for anything. What's worse, is I never even noticed what I was doing. What we were both doing. I've always prided myself on being able to read people, but I couldn't see the damage I was doing to my own daughter." She continues, pain evident in her voice.

"I wish I could go back in time to change how we acted with you. To include you fully with the twins, to support you in your work in the Shield Programme. To show that even with the boys, you were loved and an integral part of this family. All I can do is apologise and promise that we are not going to let that happen again." She finishes, finally look up to me, a couple of tears falling down her cheeks.

"It's been years. We're not just talking about a couple of months here." I speak up, still not able to lock eyes with her. "Steve became more of a parent for me than the two of you." I admit, and that seems to make mama's heart break a little more. "Is it because I'm not biologically yours and moms?" I ask, my voice shaking.

Mama is quickly to her feet and takes my hand in between both of hers. "No. Of course not Detka, and I will forever hate myself that I've allowed you to think otherwise." She tries to reassure me, a panic in her eyes. "I wish I could give you a reason for why we acted like we did. Initially, it was because we were so focused on the boys, but after that, I have no idea. I wish I could pinpoint why, maybe it would make this all easier. I know you probably don't believe it, but I love you as much as those boys. Blood doesn't matter to me. You are my daughter as much as they are my sons. I know and feel that through every fibre of my body." She expresses. The sincerity is evident in both her voice and facial expressions. "Saying sorry isn't going to fix this. You only knew what you were doing because I called you out on it. Had I not gotten shot, would you have made any effort to rectify what was wrong?" I question her, my anger growing.

"We wanted to. We were planning on taking you to breakfast to talk and work out a way that we could make things right with you. But you had gone, and we couldn't get to you. You have a lot of people at Sheild that love you." She chuckles humourlessly. That is true. Maria is like an aunt to me and her and Fury happily kept my room allocation secret, "Look, I know that we don't deserve your forgiveness, but it doesn't mean that we are going to stop trying." She states firmly.

"It's not that simple mama. I have learnt to live without you now and I've got my own place with Shield. We can both move on with you getting your perfect biological family and I get the career I want." I say, but that only makes mama cry more. "No, our family is only perfect if you are in it too!" She almost shouts, but she's quick to calm herself down. "Look, we've got to live together through your recovery, let's just see how things go after that ok." She proposes. "Fine, but I can't promise anything will change." I respond and she nods. "I know. But I'm going to try everything to earn your forgiveness." She comes back with a newfound confidence.

We fall back into a silence, one that feels more comfortable. Mama looks less stressed, but her brow is still furrowed. When mom returns, the quiet is broken again, despite mama trying to get her to calm down. I try not to smile when she tucks a loose strand of hair behind my ear. I miss this caring side of my parents so much. But for me, it's too little, too late.

Taglist: @reggierizzoli @ordelixx @mousetheorist

#marvel fanfiction #natasha romanoff #avengers fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x y/n #marvel #avengers #romanoff #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x reader #wandanat x reader

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alicerosejensen · 6 months

Text

Something about sin. Pt.1

Synopsis: Leon is ready to rip all these damn feelings out of himself and tell himself over and over again that he needs a good fuck. You're too young and too cute for him. Leon knows that he shouldn't even touch you, but then why are you tearing all the sinful essence out of him?

Warning: no erotica but it is mentioned; Older!Leon; Innocent Reader; Fem/reader; age difference; Leon is tormented by his conscience; Old man/young girl; Mentions of sex; in fact (in this chapter) the reader does not view Leon as a love/sexual interest; The reader is the daughter of another DSO agent.

A/N: I apologize for any mistakes. I really like the idea of dark Leon, but I don’t want to make him look like a bastard).

Feedback is welcome. If you want to point out mistakes or scold me, please do so in a gentle manner.

Part 2

This was wrong...

But 'Wrong' is not the word that could describe how he feels every time he sees you. One slightest appearance and Leon immediately feels like Humbert from Nabokov’s novel “Lolita,” who ruined the life of a little girl, well, the only difference is that you seem to be 19-20 years old, and not 14. Actually, it’s already wrong to want you, given that huge fact that you...don’t give him any reason.

You don't wag your pretty ass in front of him, you don't wear revealing clothes, and damn you're a victim of his sinful thoughts! When the fuck did this start?

The day he saw you might have been the right answer. This was the day when his colleague, the only one in the DSO besides Hannigan and Helena, sympathized with him and believed that what was standing in front of him was not a cold-blooded killer of the president, but the same Leon who would rather take a bullet and give his life than kill the one he was supposed to protect. The clarification of all the circumstances and the justification of his innocence dragged on for a long time, maybe that’s why your father then simply wanted to show an act of friendship and support by inviting him to a family dinner? Returning back, Leon thinks that it would be better if he went through hell again.

Leon immediately realized that the dinner was arranged primarily for him. Fried chicken with sides, a light salad, your mom made appetizers and even made a casserole. One is too many for him. The icing on the cake was when your father opened an expensive bottle of wine. He immediately felt awkward about this, after all, who was he to be bothered with so much, but you...

"Mr. Kennedy, what do you want? Maybe a salad? The thin sound of your voice almost made him feel weak. Your beautiful hands held the salad bowl, and almost as if on cue, you were ready to fill his plate with whatever he wanted. And those doe eyes looked at him so sweetly.

Leon could have sworn that at that moment some kind of blessing...or curse came down to him. He doesn't even remember what you were wearing. Some kind of brown blouse with jeans? He didn’t even pay attention to it, his eyes were completely focused on your pretty face. It was rubbish. You yourself were old enough to be his daughter and, as was said earlier, you didn’t even give him a hint to think that you were not indifferent to him. Actually, at dinner, when you were sitting between your parents opposite him, Leon saw how uncomfortable you were. You ate almost nothing and didn’t say anything, and an hour later you ran upstairs to your room, citing the fact that you hadn’t finished some task yet.

And your father quickly let you go, so you quickly jumped up the stairs like a rabbit, running away from his insidious gaze.

Maybe he just needed to let off some steam, he decided. In fact, it is not very often that there are women in his house who can spend at least a night with him. Last time it was Ada, and sex with her was too rough and fast. He cum almost as soon as she found herself in his arms, and for some reason Leon at that moment was not thinking about her, but about how it would anger Simmons, who believed that Kennedy was not worthy of her. However, it was true.

It seems like it's starting to become a habit, wanting women he doesn't deserve. At least Ada herself comes to him and Leon knows that she will not demand anything from him, they have never even had dinner together, and what did they do together besides sex, battles and flirting? That's right, nothing. But he has even less interaction with you.

Ada's black hair is too short, unlike yours, which could fall all over him if you were sleeping on his chest in this bed right now. But Ada never laid her head on his chest and always left unnoticed, leaving behind a barely perceptible trail of perfume. You wouldn't have left, Leon thinks, looking at the ceiling, ignoring the brown gaze of the woman he's been crazy about for so many years. Why is he comparing you and Ada at all? Two women who don't look like each other at all, which makes damn sense. You don't have to be like this! Your father would rather put his neck under the axe than allow his daughter to serve in the DSO or any other service, but in any case, you do not aspire there.

As a result, a woman will always understand when someone else settles in her man's head and Ada just smiles slyly moving closer to him, but all Leon hears is the rustle of a blanket.

"Well, who is she?"

As always, there was no hint of jealousy. Ada is the epitome of calm and composure, but Leon really doesn't know what to answer her.

After all, you are nobody and at the same time you have planted strong roots in his head.

"She?"

He pretends not to understand her, but Ada has long figured him out. For her, he will always remain a rookie cop.

"Yes." She still smiles, resting her head on her hand while lying on her side, "Who is this 'Jolene' What took my puppy away from me?"

Leon grins, but at the same time he feels an unpleasant ache in his chest from her words. Puppy... of course, he remained that way, and Ada was good at getting to the bottom of it, and yet she did not say that he was her lover, because there is no love between them as such.

"There is no 'Jolene' in my life and it is unlikely that there will be," he said wearily, reaching out to hug her, but contrary to expectation, he did not feel the desired warmth, and the itch inside grew like a wild beast intending to get only one thing - you.

In the morning, Ada disappeared as usual, and Leon was not even surprised. But instead of a paper airplane with a lipstick imprint on the kitchen table, he found a small note, folded in half, where only one thing was written: “I think you really need a family. You should think about it."

Maybe Ada really was right, but if she knew your age, she would obviously look at him with bewilderment, thinking that somewhere on the mission he was hit hard on the head. On the other hand, maybe she would have sarcastically joked that the older a man gets, the more he wants to have a young girlfriend instead of the old one, although he wouldn’t dare call Ada old.

Besides, you were supposed to remain only in his head and Leon could only hope that one day he would simply forget about you. For example, fucking with a random girl from a bar, but bad luck, against his own will, closing his eyes, Leon still wanted you. As if you were the one clinging to his back with your nails, leaving bloody streaks marking him and screaming his name. Complete crap.

You live your quiet life, not knowing what a zombie is, in complete material wealth and parental love. When your second meeting with Leon happens, he sees that you are dressed in some kind of wide sundress and are trying to drag something heavy alone, although dad strictly ordered you not to do this, but you, as a caring daughter, did not listen to him because wanted your father to do something other than hard work instead of carrying those heavy boxes out of the barn. The fact that you yourself were barely coping, not very successfully, was ignored by you.

Leon couldn't look at it calmly. He himself told you twice to leave the boxes, but you just snorted offended at him.

"Spoiled girl"

You want to prove something to someone, although this will most likely harm your health and force your father to fork out for doctors and medicine, so Leon, not paying attention to your snorting face, took the load from you and carried it into the house, leaving you with only light boxes.

In fact, no matter how hard Leon tries to convince himself that he just needs a break, your game keeps cutting him like a knife. If he were 21 years old again and he could get to know you before Raccoon, you could hum beautiful lyrical poems about how a boy fell in love with a girl and the whole world around him changed. As if you could be those two stupid lovers who burn alive in their love until finally they become disgusted with each other, although more and more often Leon realizes that in his loyalty and devotion only he would disgust you, not you from him. He would be your devoted puppy, as he has always been for Ada.

You would be everything to him.

Or already?

Is it right to look at a young girl like that when he is almost an old man himself? Why don't you have some annoying boyfriend with whom you can constantly text and chat on the phone thinking that this is the love of your life? And why can't he just throw you out of his head?!

"Mr. Kennedy" the way his last name comes off your tongue makes him almost rush to you and take you somewhere far away where no one would find you. However, Leon is disgusted by the idea that he will be the cause of fear and tears of an innocent girl who is completely innocent of what is happening in his unhealthy head. To tell the truth, it's not even lust… No, of course he feels physically attracted, but first there is some kind of dog instinct maturing inside to protect you from EVERYTHING and EVERYONE.

Then you started awkwardly calling his name and he just became Leon, always smiling when you ask him for something or just out of politeness ask how he is, whereas in fact you don't really care what's going on in his life. At least that's what he thinks, not really knowing what thoughts are going through your head.

Leon can't possibly know that you want someone older. Just a little colder so that you can become someone's secret, because even though you're young, you're of age. And yet you're watching these weird love movies that Leon thinks are sweeter than the cheapest chocolate and probably the books on the shelves have similar plots. A love to fight for. Disgusting rubbish, really.

But your smile is getting softer and Leon feels like he's giving up.

But Ada really understands that she is finished. Your beauty is incomparable, and even though she smiles in Leon's face, her heart also breaks apart when he says another woman's name in a dream. Huh, women…girls. How easily were you able to get hold of someone she's been involved with for so long.

In fact, it's a shame and Ada also understands that the years of youth are merciful to you, unlike her, and in fact you grabbed Leon's leash and there's no point in begging to find another man. Besides, Leon himself has always been eager for normality, for what he can build with an ordinary civilian girl. You will be a faithful girl to him, and he will be yours.

Someone else always comes. Younger and more beautiful. In Leon's case, meeting someone like you was also a well-deserved reward, so their nights are becoming increasingly rare and have long lost their passion. The only thing Ada doesn't understand is why you won't pull the leash on yourself. However, this question quickly disappears when she finds out that Leon stubbornly drowns his feelings in whiskey, in her and other women, who, though few, still have them. And then, like a faithful dog, he runs up to you just to wag his tail at the sight of you.

In the end, Ada doesn't even back down, but just waits for Leon to draw a line between them that can no longer be crossed. And waiting for you to lie on these soft pillows instead of her, like his beloved princess, or climb onto his lap and his lips will leave kisses on your neck. Leon deserves you. He deserves his share of happiness in a world where the government has turned him into a perfect weapon against bioterrorism.

Leon's touch is becoming more and more relaxed and you are not afraid of his wide chest, given your size difference. He could have easily swatted you, but for God's sake, Leon S Kennedy would rather put a bullet in their brains than hurt you. You hug him, listening to the pounding in your chest when he gives you an obscenely expensive Christmas present and drinks hot chocolate with you. No, Leon likes sweets, but in moderation. All those bright ribbons, the Christmas tree… not for him, but if you were in his house now, he would decorate his apartment for you and then hug you for several hours, nuzzling your head hoping that his phone would remain quiet.

Leon wants to put you in his bed, he's even ready to be your sugar daddy and get punched in the face by your dad knowing that you're going to grab onto him, but he just wants you. Like a stupid old dog who wants to be petted by a new owner. And Leon is sure that he will die of longing if you don't do it. The fact that you still don't have a boyfriend is just comforting, but anxiety grows when your father tells him that he's worried that his beloved daughter isn't interested in boys her own age.

"Anyone older?" your father says rhetorically while helping Leon fix his bike, "Buddy, I don't want an old man like you or me to become my son-in-law."

"But this way you'll have something to talk about," Leon grins, feeling that he has everything to step on the gas.

And he will take the risk again, even if it means a broken nose.

#leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #resident evil #leon kennedy x reader #leon x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #resident evil x reader #leon kennedy x you #reader #leon kennedy resident evil #resident evil fanfiction #leon resident evil #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x fem!reader #leon s kennedy x you #resident evil leon #older leon kennedy #Older!Leon s Kennedy

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moonchildstyles · 3 months

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I saw you were talking about curious gazes stuff.... is citrine a part of that group 🧍‍♀️

wordcount: 2.6k+

——————

Parker kept his eyes on his phone, rereading his new text notification over and over even when the bell above his head jingled as he walked through the door of the record shop.

Annie asked if he was going to be at Vera's party tonight. She asked him if she could go with him.

His cheeks almost ached from the width of the smile on his face. Maybe tonight would be the night—maybe he'd finally get the courage to ask her on a real date instead of all these friendly group outings.

Parker pulled his gaze up only when he heard the familiar voice of the shop attendant, catching the wide smile on the man's face. It was the same man every time Parker came in, his name starting with an H (it was Harry, or Henry, or something in that universe but he could never remember and felt too shy to ask for clarification at this point). He knew so much about all of the records and the artists behind them, it was always interesting when Parker wasn't in too much of a rush and could talk to the guy.

"Good afternoon! How are you?" he asked, the glimmering fabric of his top shimmering from the light spilling in from the large windows.

"I'm good, man. Thanks," Parker greeted, feeling infectiously happy at the moment, "How are you?"

"I'm doing really well, thank you," Harry (maybe?) said, dimples in his cheeks, "Are y'looking for anything specific today?"

Shrugging, Parker shook his head. "Not really, just wanted to look and see if I can find something new."

Harry perked up at the sound of something new being in need, a dark curl falling over his forehead. "We got a bunch of second hand records in the other day. It's mostly older albums, but 'm sure there's something you'd like. Let me know if you want any help or have any questions."

Typically, Parker wouldn't mind asking a few questions, especially about the more vintage artists and pressings around the shop, but his mind was still buried deep in his phone. "I will, man. Thanks."

With that, Parker drifted between the shelves that marked out the aisles in the small shop. Huddled between a pair of shelves holding different records and elaborate displays with special edition pressings, he pulled his phone out once again. Annie's thread was still open, her two texts shining in a beautiful, shining, hopeful blue.

ur going to v's tngiht right ?

if u want we could go together :)

He'd never seen a string of letters look so perfect. It was like he was reading poetry.

His fingers held a tremor as he texted her back. He attempted to play it cool, but of course he wanted to go with her. He would have given anything to enter that party under the label of being together with Annie.

Sure! I have to do some homework tonight, but I'll be heading over there at around eight. Does that work for you?

Shooting off the message, Parker felt conflicted about staring and waiting for the messages to be read with another set of preemptive bubbles filling where her next message would be, or locking his phone and not being so desperate for a single text.

When the receipts didn't immediately switch to show that it had been read with another time stamp, Parker forced himself to lock the screen and shove his phone back into his pocket. Around him, colorful records asked to steal his attention, to put him back on track and remind him why he came to the shop in the first place.

It was his sister's birthday next week and he wanted to pick out a couple of records for her since their mom was gifting her a player as well. (And, there was an album or two Parker had been looking at that he really hoped the shop carried). Forcing his mind off of his phone, he took his time perusing through the shelfs for anything special he knew she liked before he would start looking through the crates for something vintage she could brag to her friends about.

Across the space, the bell dinged again, another customer stopping by.

Instead of the usual greeting Harry offered to all guests, Parker heard a giddy sigh of, "Sunshine!" ring from the head of the shop.

Lifting his gaze from where he was examining a record cover laden with roses and glimmering gold font, he saw a woman with a beaming smile making her way towards the register area. A plastic takeaway bag hung from her elbow, her hair pulled back with her outfit consisting of a logo'd shirt and black pants. The logo was familiar, from a restaurant deeper in the plaza that had margaritas that were a little too strong but cheap enough it didn't matter.

"Hi, Harry," she greeted, opening her arms as Harry met her halfway and reciprocated her hug.

The plastic bag crinkled over his shoulder but neither of them paid the food any mind as they wrapped around each other. Quiet whispers were shared between them, Harry's curls creating a small curtain so Parker couldn't even see what kind of reaction these secrets pulled from the newcomer.

Instead, Parker only got to hear the sound of her laugh as she drew away from the hug. He felt a bit bad as he kept watching, but even when they shared a small kiss, he couldn't pull his eyes away.

Harry had mentioned more than once these small details about his wife, interjecting that she loved a certain album, or that she recommended something new to him that he was now letting others in on. Truthfully, with who Harry was—so eccentric, extroverted in an introverted way, and seemingly from a different time—Parker had imagined his wife to be completely different than to who was standing before him.

This woman seemed... normal.

Not that it was a bad thing, or that Harry wasn't, but she wasn't draped in lace and gauze with jewels and glitter following her every step. She looked like she belonged in this century.

He turned his attention back to the record in his hand a split second before she would have caught his stare. Though there was a track list right before him, he didn't read a single word, feeling a bit flustered knowing he had just witnessed what was most likely a private moment between the two of them.

Parker couldn't help the way his mind went back to Annie.

Would she visit him during her lunch? Would they embrace like that, without a care? What kind of secrets would she share with him?

He couldn't help the minute check he made to his phone screen.

No new notifications.

Folding his phone back into his pocket, Parker directed his focus back onto his shopping. Meandering back towards the crates, he started flicking through the alphabetized stacks.

With only a quiet album playing on the shop's record player—something crackly and old he didn't recognize but didn't mind—, he could hear the murmurings of the couple now huddled behind the register counter together. Though he didn't mean to eavesdrop, he didn't particularly try hard not to either.

Straining an ear, he heard their hushed conversation over the music and quiet rustling of the plastic bag.

"I can come back later, or save this for dinner," the woman said, "I don't want you to get in trouble, honey."

"'S fine, dove, really," Harry insisted, his smile audible, "I know him—he's really nice. He won't mind, I promise. If he needs my help, I'll help."

"But, H—" she tried again, only to be abruptly cut off.

Maybe it was the romance on his mind, but Parker wondered if the soft sound he heard was another quiet kiss they shared. Harry's tactic to get his wife to let go of the argument.

"It'll be fine, I promise. I've missed you all day, I don't want you to leave already."

A plume of laughter could be heard alongside the laying out of styrofoam containers. The scent of warm food drifted through the shop. Parker's stomach piqued at the smell, reminding him the last time he ate was during breakfast.

Maybe Annie would want to stop and get some dinner before the party. Or go for a late night snack after.

Harry's wife's laugh pulls him out of the possibilities he was beginning to churn before he'd even received a text back.

"We spent all morning together before you came here," she countered, her tone a gentle tease.

"So?" Harry argued, quietly serious under his own joking tone, "'S not enough, and I've told you that before."

A beat passed, the rustling of the bag filling the moment. "Well, I only have forty-five minutes left of my lunch, so you better make the most of it."

Another set of hushed conversation sounded, words too quiet for him to hear. Parker figured with the scolding Harry! that left the wife's lips, he didn't really want to hear what had made them go quiet anyway.

A vibration from his back pocket had Parker practically scrambling to reach for his phone and get the screen to light up.

Annie had texted him back.

sounds good (:

if its isnt to late by the time we r leavig we should get food or something

Parker's heart just about soared right out of his chest towards the record player, the beats wishing to play their own love song in Annie's name.

They were going to get food or something tonight, just like he hoped.

Was this love?

I was thinking the same thing! I'll see if I can finish up any sooner than eight, but I'll let you know when I'm on my way:)

There was so much Parker needed to do.

Now the priority wasn't the set of essays he was planning on editing before he got ready for Vera's. These plants were now shifted, urging him to skip cleaning his apartment and instead rushing home to do his work then agonize over getting ready for the remainder of the evening. The cowlick on the crown of his head that had his hair sticking in weird places after every shower was going to be his prime enemy today.

Focusing on the records before him, Parker skimmed through before grabbing a Fleetwood Mac album his sister would either love or let become a statement piece about how much of an old soul she was. Turning back to the shelves he reached for a foiled album, the band's name one he recognized but only vaguely through his sister's Spotify. He wasn't familiar with the artwork, but hopefully this was a good one.

These two would have to do for now. If he needed to find a third, he'd do it later. Annie was waiting for him (in six hours, but the urgency still mattered).

Taking his tiny stack to the register, he saw the bubbly couple huddled together sharing a container of French fries with their own respective sandwiches. When the woman realized Parker was approaching, she startled in her spot, immediately moving to get their meal out of the way of the register.

"Sorry, sorry," she said, covering her mouth as she swallowed down the bite she'd taken just as he emerged from the shelves. Harry watched with a fond quirk to his lips though he didn't make any move to assist her move.

"'S alright, love," he attempted to soothe her. While Harry was always purely friendly and full of a kind and giving spirit, Parker had never heard his voice take on the notes it did now. This man was in love with his wife—everything she did was special to him.

"I don't mind," Parker jumped in, settling his records on the clear area of the desk, "I get it."

"See, (Y/N)?" Harry pointed out, though he did begin straightening up and tapping at the register keys, "I told you he was cool."

The woman—(Y/N), the name said with a reverence—didn't pay Harry's argument any mind, continuing to move their boxes out of the way for Parker. Harry shook his head, his green eyes lighting up with every glance her way.

"You find everything alright?" Harry asked, sliding the records towards the inlaid scanner on the desk. Before Parker had a chance to answer, he saw Harry's face light up when he spotted the Fleetwood Mac record. "I didn't know you listened to them! Is this your favorite album?"

Holding up the beige cover, complete with a familiar woman in pointe shoes and an unfamiliar man at her side, Harry looked to him with expectant eyes.

"Um, this is actually a gift for my sister," Parker explained, feeling a bit bashful now that he let down Harry. "It's her birthday next week, and my mom is getting her a record player. I don't really listen to older music."

Casting his gaze down at the album cover, Harry pursed his lips. "I guess it did come out in '77—feels like it was only last year, I forget sometimes."

Parker canted his head. That was one of those things about Harry that had him assuming he was meant to exist long before this time. It wasn't the first time he made a comment like that.

"If she likes that album," (Y/N) piped up from where she had stepped back to lean against the back counter, "you should get her some Stevie Nicks albums. She'd love them."

Harry perked up with a smile on his lips, though he stayed quiet as he typed a few numbers into the register before the total popped up on Parker's end.

"She's the singer from Fleetwood Mac, right?" Parker asked, sliding his card into the reader, "I didn't know she had her own music."

"She's the best," Harry interjected, his words a clear praise of his idol, "Even if your sister doesn't get into it, y'should still try it out. Y'won't regret it."

Maybe Annie would like some of this kind of music. They could have a song if they found one they both liked.

The idea had Parker giddy once more, itching to head home and prepare for the night.

"I'll have to come back then and see what you recommend," Parker said, grabbing his carefully bagged records with the receipt tucked inside, "Thanks, Harry. It was nice to kind of meet you, by the way"—his eyes moving to Harry's wife—"He talks about you all the time."

The smile that stretched along her features was like the sunshine her husband named her after—bright and eclipsing.

Though they were small, the things Parker picked up between the two had his heart softening in places he didn't know could soften. A love like that must be consuming in the sweetest way.

Annie was all that was swirling through his mind.

"He does?" (Y/N) asked, her eyes drifting towards her husband. He only shrugged in response, a bashful set to his features with blushing cheeks.

"See you next time," Harry said, biting back his dimpled smile as he bid Parker goodbye.

Tossing a wave over his shoulder, Parker drifted towards the door, his precious phone sliding into his hand on instinct. His heart jumped when he saw a text from Annie.

perf ! excited to see u (:

His heart rocketed into his throat at the small string of words. Just before he left the shop, Parker didn't think before he was looking over his shoulder and catching Harry pressing a loving kiss to his wife's lips.

He wanted a love like that. Hopefully, that will start tonight.

——————

:))))) thank u sm for all the excitement about this pov I hope everyone likes it! thank u sm for reading, sorry for any mistakes, and please send in any fun ideas!

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sexydreamgirl · 9 months

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I’m sorry to ask this repetitive question but I am autistic and struggle to understand many basic concepts within the Law of Assumption it's especially harder since most people speak in riddles and I'm not good with those things. I need clarification on a few things; What is imagination and what does it mean to imagine? Must you always be aware of the state that you're entertaining and micromanage your thoughts? How do I ignore the 3D and live in the imagination? Am I supposed to ignore all of my 3D responsibilities and pretend that I'm living my dream life? For example, if I have a test on Thursday and I want to manifest that I don't, should I not study and pretend that I don't have a test? If I remind myself, "Oh, you need to study for your test on Thursday" and I continue to study even though I'm manifesting that I don't have a test, would that be a contradiction and mean that I'm admitting that I don't have my desire? Should I think and act a certain way or continue living my life? There's too much information about what to do and what not to and I'm so confused because I don't understand it and it makes me insane!

Ma vie, it's much simpler than you think it is. Allow me to break it down little by little:

What is imagination and what does it mean to imagine?

Imagination: the faculty or action of forming new ideas, or images or concepts of external objects not present to the senses.

To imagine simply means to devise an idea. Ideas owe their origin to imagination. Before it became reality, everything around you was once merely an idea: the internet, social media apps, technology, electronics, the model of your home, cars, freeways, haircut trends, the design of the clothes you are currently wearing, the very idea of even wearing clothes, art as a whole, it doesn't matter what you point at; EVERYTHING was born from imagination.

Must you always be aware of the state that you're entertaining and micromanage your thoughts?

You make acknowledging your state sound like something you have to be constantly monitoring. You don't have to be monitoring anything. As I'm sure you know, you're always in a state because you are always conscious of being something. Regarding micromanaging your thoughts: NO! Your thoughts indicate your state so if you're thinking against your desired state of consciousness then that means you are not conscious of being who you desire to be, and so you change that via I AM and you persist in it.

How do I ignore the 3D and live in the imagination? Am I supposed to ignore all of my 3D responsibilities and pretend that I'm living my dream life?

Ignoring the 3D is not about pretending it isn't there. It is about not letting it have the last word.

Pretend? NO! Pretend implies that it isn't real, when imagination IS REAL. IMAGINATION IS THE FOUNDATION OF THE WORLD AROUND YOU!

"Whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things." - Philippians 4:8

When you live in imagination, you contemplate what you would like to experience and then immerse yourself in the feeling of the wish fulfilled. Accept that invisible state (your dream life) as reality. Then go your way knowing the desire is now yours.

If I remind myself, "Oh, you need to study for your test on Thursday" and I continue to study even though I'm manifesting that I don't have a test, would that be a contradiction and mean that I'm admitting that I don't have my desire? Should I think and act a certain way or continue living my life?

Do what you have to do in your day-to-day life, just remember to bring yourself back to that which you desire to be. Walk as though you were and persist in it. As I said, ignoring the 3D is not about pretending it isn't there. Attending it for a moment will not kill your imaginal act. So you take care of what needs to be taken care of and remember to bring yourself back to your idea if you waver. Accept what you want in imagination. Remember that imagination is the cause and the 3D is the effect.

I hope this cleared up your confusion. As always, if you have further questions you're welcome to send them over <3

#recycling answers now yeah #you guys will be seeing me say this in another post soon as well #queued

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aemondsbeloved · 1 year

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Battle Of Wits

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

summary: Aemond has often said how no lady would want to marry him due to his scar, much to the annoyance of you, his closest friend and constant dance partner at feasts in the Red Keep (1.5k)

notes: no warnings in this one, very fluffy

“No lady will ever want to marry someone like me,” he said to you.

Nearing his twentieth nameday, the words Aemond said to you sounded different than they did when you were both three and ten.

It was a night like this. You were in attendance in the throne room for a feast that would include dancing, of course. Your family was expected to join as your father had a position in King Viserys court. And as had been the habit for a few years by this point, you had eaten as quickly as you could so you could go to the outskirts of the room and talk to the young prince.

At that time you had grown proficient in your dancing lessons and learned to dance quite well. Now you just needed to dance.

Your excitement was palpable. Aemond’s was not.

Back then he had said, “No lady will want to dance with me, let alone be betrothed to me.”

You did not need clarification when he gestured to his eyepatch and the scar it only half hid.

More girl than woman then, you did not know what to say. You only grabbed his hand and insisted he danced with you.

The message was clear enough. I’ll dance with you, it said. And every feast after Aemond danced with you.

You thought you were being obvious in the following years. You would happily marry him and be honored to call Aemond Targaryen your betrothed, your lord husband to be.

He had always been so focused on what others thought of him and how they avoided him that he often forgot there was someone who was always by his side. That there was someone who loved to dance with him.

And you did. He had gentle hands despite how calloused the tips of his fingers were. He would almost hold your waist gingerly like you were something very precious when he danced with you. His body was lithe and he danced like he sparred with Ser Cole, fluid motions. It was like water dancing.

Now, you were in the throne room again and the celebration was a boring one. An anniversary for King Viserys and Queen Alicent’s marriage, apparently.

“You’re a prince,” you heard yourself saying to him. “Any lady would be lucky to marry a prince.”

“A second son,” he corrected you.

“Who is a prince,” you did not relent.

He scoffed at that and then you look at him from the side. “You ride Vhagar, the queen of dragons. You are a skilled fighter and wield the sword better than Ser Cole. You are intelligent and know more of the histories than half the maesters in the Citadel I’d wager. And you are a kind man.”

He laughed at the last part. “You should talk to my nephews, they might have something to say about my kindness.”

He was unbelievable. “They do not know you as I do,” you insisted.

A beat of silence passed and you thought you had gotten through to him finally. “No lady would want to marry a man without an eye. Maybe if I still had my eye but alas.”

It did not escape you how he had stared at his nephew across the room who was, in fact, dancing.

“Very bold of you to assume your loss of an eye would stop a lady from wishing to marry you,” you said, words coming out quick and without thought.

You should be less obvious, you should be subtle. But where had that gotten you before?

At that, he had looked at you finally with curiosity. “Such a lady does not exist.”

“You speak with such finality,” you scoffed. “But you do not know what you say to be true. There are many ladies in Westeros.”

“None would seek my hand.”

Unlike when you were young, he did not speak with sadness but spoke the words like they were matter of fact.

“You are wrong.”

His expression was one of disbelief and his lips quirked up into a smirk. He looked at you, chin tilted down and it appeared that you amused him.

The nerve of him.

“Impossible.”

You huffed. “What is so improbable, Aemond? That you are wrong? Or that I am right?”

The battle of wits was not uncommon between you two but that is not what this was, at least not to you. Meanwhile, it was to him. He pushed his shoulders back, his eye more engaging and his lips quirked up into a more prominent smirk.

“You, my lady, are more often right than wrong. It is true,” he said. “But I am afraid in this case I know you to be wrong. There is not a woman in this hall that would wish to be betrothed to me and my wicked looks, let alone be married to me.”

“Of course there is,” you spat the words out without thinking. You did not take in his surprised look at your lethality. “There is one staring up at you right now. She enjoys dancing with you and values your companionship. She has never found your looks wicked. She finds you very handsome as it happens.”

There was no time to be meek or to pretend you did not mean the words. Your skin might have felt like dragonfire but you refused to look bashful at your confession.

His arrogance and confidence faded. This was no battle of wits.

“I see,” was all he said.

As always, he was unreadable. He was a fortress of knowledge and secrets. He would not let you know what he was feeling exactly in this moment. That was fine, you would tell him how you felt regardless.

“Go on, Aemond. Tell me that my affections are not reciprocated. You may break my heart if you wish, my prince, but the fact remains I am right and you are wrong. There has always been a lady who has wanted to dance with you, and there is a lady in front of you who would be honored to be your lady wife.”

Those kind of words could not be taken back. Your breaths came out heavy, frustration at him for only seeing what people dislike about him and not focusing on the ones that love him.

You did not notice the way Aemond’s eye flickered to your slightly parted lips before looking back at you.

“You do not say this out of pity for me?” came his question.

“If I was feeling pity I would ask your elder brother to dance and get him off Helaena’s hands,” you said, directing your gaze across the room where Aegon was, albeit drunkenly, dancing with his sister wife.

He laughed shortly and your own eyes held humor briefly, but you looked at him more seriously. “When have I ever lied to you?”

“Never,” he said, quietly. “And for that I am most grateful,” he told you earnestly.

You were not so bold this time to say anything. There was no much more you could say that you had not already.

Aemond’s mouth opened and closed before he spoke. “I must confess you are the only lady I find myself wanting to dance with,” he said, the words taking him much effort. Vulnerability was not a comfort to him, but you were. “Your affections mirror my own. I think of you day and night. Whenever you are not in my company I wish you were and even these feasts that I loathe have become something I look forward to if only because I am able to see you, my lady.”

You had not expected those words to come, truthfully. Maybe he could see that.

“You should not be so surprised. You are not like me. You are very easily to feel affections for. Your beauty is other worldly and I find myself thinking there is no one as clever nor a finer dancer.”

“My dancing prowess earned your affections?” you teased.

He shook his head in denial, a soft smile lifting up his face. “No,” he said, fondness in his tone. “You did not have to do anything to win my affections, truly. I think you have always had my heart.”

“Never knew you were such a poet,” you smiled at him. Grabbing his hand you led him to the center of the room where others danced.

He let you lead the way. “Only for you.”

The fondness never left his voice nor did the easy smile on his lips.

“That’s good to hear,” you only half joked. You both moved into the step of the dance when you added, “I am not very fond of sharing.”

He laughed at your words, a true laugh of amusement. Only you were able to get him to do that.

You danced with him until your feet were sore and the feast ended.

The next morning the King and Queen announced to the court of your betrothal to Prince Aemond.

You would be married by spring’s end.

taglist: @itsghostgirlyo @rosaryos @cullenswife @whatafreakingloser @witchofthenorthstar @m-indkiller @somemydayy @malfoytargaryen @bellameshipper @targaryenmoony @regandjamielola @tarrgaryenss @khaleesihavilliard @lacunaanonymoused @joliettes @mxrgodsstuff @margaglitterdeath

comments and reblogs are always appreciated <3

#aemond x reader #aemond x you #aemond x y/n #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond one eye #aemond targaryen #pro aemond targaryen #aemond imagine

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itsnotiss · 9 months

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Anyone who follows me on here with a Twitter/X account:

In case you haven't heard, the Twitter Privacy Policy is changing on September 29th. The new policy states that any public content uploaded there will be used to train AI models. This, in addition to the overarching content policy which gives Twitter the right to "use, copy, reproduce, process, adapt, modify, publish and display" any content published on the platform without permission or creator compensation, means that any original content on there could potentially be used to generate AI content for use on the platform, without the original creator's consent.

If you publish original content on Twitter (especially art) and you don't like or agree with the policy update, now may be the time to review the changes for yourself and if necessary take things down before the policy update is published.

Edit: I wanna offer a brief apology for the original post, my wording was a bit unclear and may have drawn people to the wrong assumptions! I have changed the original post a bit now to hopefully be a more accurate reflection of the situation.

Let me just clarify some things since I certainly don't wanna fearmonger and also I feel like some people may take this more seriously than it actually is!:

The part of the privacy policy I mentioned regarding "use, copy, reproduce, process, adapt, modify, publish and display" is included in the policies of every social media site nowadays. That part on its own is not scary, as they have to include that in order to show your content to other users and have it published outside of the site (ie. embedding on other sites, news articles).

The scenario I mentioned is pretty unlikely to happen, I highly doubt the site will suddenly start stealing art or other consent and use it to pump stuff out all over the web without consent or compensation. I simply mentioned it because the fact that the data is being used to train AI models means that stuff on there may end up being used as references for it at some point, and that could then lead to the scenario I mentioned where peoples content becomes the food for new AI content. I don't know myself how likely that is for definite, but I know many people still don't trust the training of AI, which is why I feel it is important to mention.

I cannot offer professional or foolproof advice to people on the platform who have posted content before, I'm just some guy! I don't wanna make people freak out or anything. If you have content already on the site, chances are its probably already floating around somewhere you wouldn't want it. That's, unfortunately, the reality of the internet. You don't have to take down everything you've ever posted or delete your accounts, however I wouldn't recommend posting new content on the site if you are uncomfortable with the changes.

THIS POST WAS MADE FOR AWARENESS ONLY!! I AM NOT SUGGESTING WHAT YOU SHOULD AND SHOULD NOT DO, I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE!! /lh

TL;DR: I worded the original post slightly poorly, for clarification the policy being changed to allow for AI training doesn't automatically mean that all your creations will be stolen and be recreated with AI or anything, it just means that those creations will be used to teach the AI to make things of it's own. If you don't like the sound of that, consider looking into this matter yourself for a more detailed insight.

#twitter #x #privacy policy #ai

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 year

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Taglist: @souyasbabyy @kittekat420 @mellozhi @bro-let-me-sleep

This was long overdue…also do I have any idea where this series is going? Honestly I’m just wining it, so if it seems like there’s no consistency…that’s probably bc of me wining it.

Warning: ooc hobie? Shit writing?

Butterflies can’t see the colour of their wings series:

Part 1

Part 2

part 3 (you are here)

When Hobie told you that he’d be there if you were going through something; he meant it.

When Hobie told you that you could come to him for anything that might be plaguing your mind with doubt; he meant it.

He meant every promise he’s ever made.

Every. Last. One.

However Hobie knew that to push you into telling him everything wasn’t the right way to go about solving things, and instead he should wait until you were ready to talk about the issue on your own terms. You’re amazing Hobie and I’m not dismissing your help or anything but I’m sure I can figure this out on my own, if I can’t then I’ll come to you. Were the words you spoke to him. You always wanted to figure things out yourself first before resorting to relying on others for help. While that was admirable, Hobie secretly wanted to be the one you relied on most; after overhearing what you said to Miles about the consequences of wanting what you can’t have because you felt as though you didn’t fit with him.

Which -for clarification- Hobie found to be utter and total bullshit because to him, you couldn’t have fitted better with him. He could give less of a shit about how different you were, whether it was based on lifestyles, aesthetics or differences in personalities, because at the end of the day Hobie only wished to help you realise how beautiful your butterfly wings were; and they are the most beautiful he’s ever seen that to try and describe them would be a fruitless endeavour for you made him feel all kinds of things and those things you made him feel were new and exciting.

How he wishes he could find the way to rid you forever of your self doubt and insecurities that run so deep within yourself that it was nearly impossible to find where it was that the seed of doubt was placed within your heart and soul. Hobie knew he can only say so much before it begins to sound like he was rehashing those same words in a multitude of different ways until they held no emotion nor meaning.

Another thing he often pondered to himself in his spare time was the kiss you left engraved upon his cheek that day as he often ran his calloused fingertips across it gingerly, still feeling the phantom of your lips there. He first wondered if that kiss was merely a gesture of thanks for his offer to help; nothing to be looked deeply upon for it untimely meant nothing outside your appreciation for the strong platonic bond you both built since meeting one another; Whereas he sometimes wished it was you slowly accepting his willingness to become more integrated with your life then he already is but to a more deeper and intimate level.

A level where in his fantasy you both could sit in a together in total silence as you both did your own thing, easily finding comfort within one another’s presence and knowing that you’d never be too far away from actively seeking for one another when wanting to show something.

A level where you would wear his vest outside of the excuse that you looked cold but more so because it would inherit your scent within the fabric, so that whenever he was away he would be reminded of the piece of you that he had with him, telling him that you were waiting for him back home.

A level where he could look into your eyes and see his entire life within them.

A level where he would’ve finally found a way in making you see you from his point of view; for you were a butterfly who would one day realise the colour of your wings and he was the human that would help you see their beauty and worth.

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blossom-hwa · 4 days

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manège | k.th

pairing: Taehyun x gender neutral!reader genre: fluff, a little angst and comfort, ballet dancer!taehyun and pianist!reader warnings: n/a word count: 1.4k notes: — this pairing's been on my mind for a good year or so, so I'm very happy to have finally written something for them :) please note that I've only been doing ballet for a couple years now, so if I've used any terms incorrectly, I'm very sorry! — for some clarification, mc and taehyun go to an arts school, and mc volunteers as one of the pianists for the ballet studio Taehyun finds his way back to you, again.

TXT Masterlist

manège: a classical ballet term for “circular,” which describes a series of steps done in a circular pattern around the stage

. . . . .

"...Taehyun?"

The question of his name is quiet enough that if he hadn't noticed the opening of the door in the corner of the mirror, he would have missed it. As it stands, his mind barely processes your voice emerging from behind the door, and it takes a moment to shake off the double tours and pirouettes before he can even recognize the face appearing in the mirror. He blinks sweat away from his eyes. "Y/N?"

"It's late," you say, stepping into the empty studio. "You're still practicing?"

As one, you both look at the clock hanging on the wall. It's long past eight, when Taehyun initially told himself he'd stop—long past nine, even.

Suddenly all of the exhaustion of the day seems to hit him at once. His muscles ache, sweat keeps dripping down his face no matter how much he wipes away, and there's a small but consistent flare of pain in his calf that he should really stop and massage out. Really, he wants nothing more than to just sit down against the wall, or maybe even flop onto the floor and stare at the ceiling while seeing nothing at all. He's been here since eight in the morning and his body clearly knows it.

"Yeah," is all he says in lieu of articulating all of this, though, because his throat feels gravelly and words are hard. "What are you doing here?" he asks instead. It's at least as fair of a question for you as yours was for him.

"I had class," you say. Taehyun takes in your leggings, the loose T-shirt almost covering your shorts, and remembers yes, there was a lower-level class held almost immediately after you got off your shift. "I stayed after to practice."

He frowns. "For almost five hours?" You were playing the piano for his company class until it ended at three. Your adult beginner class ends at four thirty, and it's past nine.

"Not ballet." You shift the weight of several books in your arms, and only then does Taehyun see their worn paper bindings, the music markings on the covers, and remember that people practice things besides dance. "Evaluations coming up. There was a free piano in one of the empty studios."

Ah. Taehyun nods. And then the room falls into silence again, broken only by the sounds of your breathing.

"So." You walk to the empty piano in the room, placing your books on the top before looking at him expectantly. "What are you working on?"

It takes him a moment to register your words, to understand that you're not telling him to leave or go home or get some rest. All of which he should do, but the looming specter of the showcase next week won't let him. "You're not going to tell me to go home and rest?" he asks regardless, and even though his throat squeaks a bit after spending so many hours in silence, you don't laugh. Not at that, anyway.

"Well, would you have gone home if I'd said you should?" you reply, raising an eyebrow. He shakes his head and a smile curves his lips when you give a little laugh. "See?"

"Point taken," he says, and when you laugh again he laughs too. "Grand Pas Classique," he answers your original question. "For the showcase. Next week."

Your mouth parts in a little 'o'. "This one?" you ask, playing out a short melody. He nods. "Can I see?"

He should. He shouldn't. He at once wants to but doesn't, wants to let the melody sing in his blood as he double tours and entrechats around the room, spinning and leaping across the floor, but he also knows that you're here. And if Taehyun is his own harshest critic, he becomes even harsher when someone else is in the room.

You look at him, though, and he looks at you, and he knows that you see him for himself. See the sweaty hair matted into clumps, see the muscles aching behind his skin, see the work put into every effortlessly pointed toe and graceful finger as he takes his beginning position in front of the mirror. And when the music begins to play, the melody spilling into his ears and then into his blood, he looks into the mirror and smiles not because he has to, but because your watchful eyes will never hold judgment. Will never hold disappointment. Will only ever see him, see Taehyun Kang the person and not Taehyun Kang the dancer, and will cherish him for it.

When he's done, the applause of one person cuts through the labored silence of his breathing, and it's enough to keep the smile on his face, to let his muscles finally relax, to wipe the sweat from his brow and sit down. Or—not really. He's still a little too wired to sit, but he leans against the wall of the studio and gestures to where you sit at the piano like it's the most natural position in the world, ready to play but not. "Show me something," he says when he has enough breath to speak. "What are you working on?"

There's a moment when you're flipping through your books, skimming pages filled with music and your careful notes, where Taehyun loses himself, for a moment, in you. When you squint at a few pages, then put the book back on top of the piano, then position yourself at the keys. The preparation—the careful placement of your fingers just as deliberate as his pointed toes and graceful hands—the moment where time holds still, before you give in to the song in your mind and your heart and allow the music to flow through your veins.

It all comes back to you, Taehyun thinks as your fingers waltz and whirl across the keys, dance in enchanting patterns of black and white. From him, to you, back to him and then to you again—in manège, arabesques and jetés leaping about the stage, coming away from the center only to reach it again the way everything always returns to you. Your voice, your music, always there. Always constant. Pulling him back to earth when he threatens to topple over the edge, never once wavering in your strength or patience even when you see the worst parts of him over and over.

He's sitting down by the time you stop playing, fingers gentle yet unyielding against the piano, coaxing a last, wavering echo from its depths before your hands rise, suspended in the air, then fall to your lap. When you look up, the fluorescent studio lights seem to burn your figure into his vision, like the afterimage of a lightning strike behind his eyes. "That was beautiful," he says, and he means it in more ways than one.

And you accept the praise in more ways than one, in the smile on your lips, in the twinkle in your eyes, in the moment where you sit down next to him, back against the wall, and let him lean his sweaty head on your shoulder with no complaint about how gross it must feel. "Thank you," you say, and when you do, the melody racing through his veins finally calms.

It's almost ten, now, the clock still ticking away on the wall. But you make no move to get up and neither does Taehyun, even when you murmur "Home?" in a voice that only makes him lean further into you, even when he makes a noise of agreement in the back of his throat. In the end, it takes nearly twenty minutes for you to finally pat his knee and say get up, Taehyun. And then he disappears to change and wash up and collect his things, and maybe in the shower he can feel himself beginning to fade away again, but then you're standing right outside the locker room and when he slips his hand into yours, he comes back to earth. Manège. Circling you, always. Leaving. Returning. Orbiting. Joining.

Music dancing through his blood and yours, a song that he will always be able to follow back home.

Reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated! Hope you enjoyed this, and have a lovely day :)

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temis-de-leon · 16 days

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Day 19 - Missing a kiss

Characters: Belphegor x gn!MC

25 kisses challenge Masterlist

Main Masterlist

CW: Belphie being a smitten petty brat, established relationship

If Belphie hated one thing about MC, it was all the times they called him dude; or worse, bro. He wasn’t their dude or their bro, he was their boyfriend. And he would appreciate being called as such. Sweetheart? Bring it on. Honey? Sounds good to him. Baby? His favourite. Dude? Absolutely fucking not. Bro? Did MC want to get the silent treatment? And buddy? What did they think he was? Their dog?

He hated it, despised it, and they thought it was so funny, soon moving on to more platonic nicknames like bestie, pal and, the worst of all, champ.

CHAMP?

“Love you so much, dude” they would say while kissing him in the darkness of the attic.

“Miss you, bro” they would message him when they took separate classes.

“How’s my bestie doing?” they would ask after waking him up from a long nap on the floor.

It was heinous, worth of every ounce of his pettiness towards them. Fortunately, MC knew it was nothing extremely serious or something to actually worry about, but still.

Absolutely foul.

The situation reached a point where Belphie ultimately decided to give his beloved MC the cold shoulder. His need of keeping them close and touching them even in the smallest of ways made everything difficult, and he still needed to at least hold their hand throughout the day, but he was determined to get his point across.

So he did.

Looking the other way whenever MC talked to him and observing every bit of their features the moment they turned away, not reciprocating their hugs and discretely grabbing their, his, sweatshirt to not get left behind, laying on their lap only when he was sure they were already asleep.

And so on.

Finally, not even a full week after his shenanigans, Belphie found himself hidden under the blankets of MC’s bed, frowning when they uncovered him with a knowing and amused smile. They didn’t waste any time in joining him and soon his relief at being next to them became obvious.

MC laughed and he could feel himself blushing in response.

“Are you done being mad at me?” they asked in a mocking tone.

“I’m not mad at you”

“Sure”

“I’m not”

They laughed again, irking him, and quickly launched at him before he could turn his back on them. Belphie hugged them back on instinct and then couldn’t find the will to push them back, keeping MC close to his chest instead and letting his irrational irritation disappear in a matter of seconds.

“Are you done now?”

“Yeah, I guess I am”

Belphie felt an immediately sense of embarrassment filling his body, reddening his cheeks even more and making him hide his face in MC’s clothes so they wouldn’t see him.

Just when he was hoping they’d both fall asleep surrounded by warmth and the familiar smell of their combined scents, MC lightly shook him and talked in tender whispers.

“Tell me what happened” they pleaded. “Is it because I call you bestie? But you’re my bestie!”

“I’m your boyfriend!” he answered in a stern tone.

“You’re my boyfriend and my best friend”

The clarification made his heart flutter, but he was still irritated.

He slowly started to feel light ticklish touches across his face, the intimate caress of MC’s lips marking his skin and making him shiver. From his closed eyelids to his cheekbones, up his temple and down his nose, barely touching the corner of his lips before playfully biting his jaw and letting him go.

“Kiss me” he demanded, causing their smile.

“I already did”

“Not where I want you to”

“Oh?”

MC leaned on their elbows, looking at him from above with hilarity. He was blushing, again embarrassed, but the ghost of their kiss on his lips made him impatient.

“And where does my baby want me to kiss him?”

He avoided their gaze, feeling his face getting warmer.

“My absolute favourite demon? The love of my life?”

“Okay, stop”

“Where do you want me to kiss you, Belphegor?”

His breathing stopped, unable to even hear their heartbeat over his own.

“My Belphie”

They slowly closed the distance between them, eyes fixated on his lips, and just when he thought he would finally have a taste of what he was craving the most, MC raised their trajectory just a little and merrily kissed his cupid’s bow.

He immediately and deeply frowned, again making them laugh, but the sound quickly died when he threw himself at them and locked their lips together.

It brought peace to his mind and it made them sigh in delight and he’d make sure it wouldn’t stop until very early in the morning.

Taglist: @ourfinalisation @owlisbuffering @chizukimp4 @ravenredwine @darkflowerav @craftysclown @mehkers

#obey me #obey me! shall we date?#om! shall we date #om! swd #obey me x reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #obey me belphagor x reader #obey me belphie x reader #belphegor x reader #belphie x reader #obey me fluff #obey me writing #obey me drabble #25 kisses challenge

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aealzx · 8 months

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“Uhm… Yes?...Why?” Don responded, taken a little off guard by the question. They were already borrowing the infirmary weren’t they? Donnie and Lil Mikey were going to stay the rest of the night at least. Leatherhead was already settling Donnie back into the bed he’d been in before, and Raphael was trying to lead Leon over to the other bed for Lil Mikey to sleep on.

But Leon was apparently distracted by something else, leaning away from Raphael halfway and slow to respond. “You have intravenous antibiotics, yeah?” he asked, a mix of feeling rushed and excited making his speech faster as he eventually obeyed Raphael's mildly frustrated coaxing and carefully rested Lil Mikey on the mattress. “And two metal plates, about this big, and screws?” Leon followed up, holding his hands up a short distance apart and then a certain thickness.

The questions immediately caused Don’s mind to start listing possible uses in the context he was given. Injuries that would warrant metal plates, screws and antibiotics filtering into his head as he narrowed his eyes just slightly. “Yes, of course. Why?” Don confirmed and repeated his own question with a little more emphasis, restraining himself from grabbing Leon to check him over. It couldn’t be any of them that were currently there that were injured. The only thing Don could think of was a severe fracture, and if that was the case he didn’t think Leon would be moving as easily as he was.

But luckily Leon answered the question of who without the need of further interrogation.

“My brother has an open compound fractured tibia and fibula. Let me go get him, I’ll be right back.” Leon’s answer came as a rush of syllables accentuated by one of the swirling blue discs opening up next to him. Don flinched back slightly at the revelation, and Raphael was more caught off guard by the portal. The kid hadn’t even moved for that to appear. It was a little disconcerting since they still weren’t quite sure what they did exactly. Before the others could fully register what was going on Leon had slipped through the portal, mask tails nearly being caught by the closing gateway.

Being left in silence, Raphael mentally repeated in his mind what Leon had said. He understood most of it, but he wasn’t familiar enough with the names of bones to know which ones the tibia and fibula were. Something in the leg? Or was it the arm? They sounded familiar enough for him to think they were in one of the more external limbs. Looking over to Don for clarification and possible direction, Raphael let out a smothered snort of amusement. Don’s hands had remained frozen in the air where he’d reached out on reflex, and his expression betrayed his disbelief in what he’d just been told. The revelation caused stress to build to the point it bubbled over in the form of a higher pitched whine slowly escaping his form while his fingers flexed.

“Easy there Doctor Don. We don’t want to scare the kid off now that he’s finally started to trust us,” Raphael cautioned with a mild chuckle, recognizing Don’s mental restraint barely keeping him from chasing Leon down. Speaking up only caused Don to redirect his stress at him though.

“Hhhhhhhhh Raph you can not tell me to take it easy after being told the last one of them has a bone sticking out of his leg! if they’re not back in four hours I’m tracking them and getting them myself, and I make no promises on the four hours,” Don rambled, grabbing Raphael’s shoulders and lightly shaking him in distress.

Raphael could only chuckle, reaching up to still Don’s hands and keep him from shaking his brains up too much as Leo and Master Splinter moved closer. “Then I guess you should keep yourself busy getting the supplies you’ll need?” he suggested. Anything to keep his brother occupied and not giving someone a headache.

“...Duh,” Don huffed, giving Rahael an incredulous squint before breaking away to scurry towards the cabinets. The least he could do was make sure they had everything where Leon and he could easily get to it.

“What’s going on?” Leo asked, having heard pieces of the conversation but not actively followed it. He had a relatively clear guess on what the problem was with Don, but he preferred getting clarification before causing issues out of ignorant guesses.

“Remember when your bone was sticking outta your arm?” Raphael asked, raising his own arm and pointing at it.

“...Yeah?” Leo confirmed, reflexively glancing at the scar running down the length of his arm in memory.

“The kid Leo says his brother has the same thing, and went to get him. Obviously that got Don all worked up,” Raphael explained, jerking a thumb at their brother pilling medical supplies on the rolling surgical tray near the table.

Leo’s brows raised in mild surprise before furrowing in concern. He had been quite distracted when his own arm had been broken, for obvious reasons. But he still remembered Don being just as frantic. Paranoid about bone infection, or being able to properly stabilize it without doing further damage, or preventing it from healing properly. Honestly Leo still thought Don had done an amazing job with it, as always, considering he didn’t notice it anymore. And yet the memories just added yet another thing to the list to explain why Leon had been so upset earlier. “..Did he say anything about needing transport?” Leo asked, tone a little more sullen than before. He was starting to regret the way he’d reacted towards Leon’s actions. They were the wrong actions to take, but Leo was starting to find it hard to hold anything against Leon now.

“Nah. I think he can teleport just fine. Like he was doing when he got here,” Raphael admitted with a shrug. “Don gave him four hours, but I bet he’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Then let’s make sure we’re ready for them,” Leo directed firmly, moving around Raphael to head towards Don to see if he could help with anything.

Raphael watched Leo go and could only huff in amusement as he folded his arms. “Took him long enough,” he mused, lowering his gaze down to Master Splinter as he stepped next to him.

“Leonardo has always had difficulty thinking clearly when the safety of his family is in question. A trait he has come to manage as he’s gotten older, but also one that I have never faulted him for,” Master Splinter mused with a smile, looking fondly after his boys. Then his gaze shifted, a knowing smile as he looked up to meet Raphael’s eyes. “It would seem this young, other dimension version of my son has the same trait. And you, my son, have gotten much better at recognizing the motivations behind others’ actions.”

Raphael had to snort in mild embarrassment at the compliment, shifting his weight and shrugging his shoulders uncomfortably. “Wasn’t hard. It was written all over his face. Don saw it too,” he brushed off despite forcing down the grin tugging his mouth.

Master Splinter could only chuckle softly, but was unable to add more to the conversation as yet another blue portal swirled into the room in practically the same spot as before. Raphael stepped back to fully face it, and had to chuckle in mild triumph. “See? Just a few minutes.”

—---

As time crept on at an agonizing pace in the still darkness, April was finding she hated that she’d agreed to wait until noon to look for Leon. It wasn’t only that she was worried about him, but she missed having him there for company in this empty place. Of course having Raph in her lap brought some comfort, for she wasn’t truly alone. But her back was bare other than a light blanket, and she trusted Leon’s medical expertise way more than her own. She wanted her brother’s weight on her back, and his encyclopedia brain ready to address their needs. But she also wanted all four of her brothers there too. Which was the only thing that kept her where she was, staring at the map on her phone as it showed Leon chasing around the city, trying to find their little brothers. Part of April wanted to help look, but she didn’t know how she could. Leon was definitely able to move around way faster than she ever could. And she knew the best help she could give was to stay there and look after Raph. He didn’t handle being alone in a foreign place well at all even when he was healthy. So she had to be there to keep him calm. But his current state wasn’t doing much in the way of keeping her calm.

Thirty minutes after Leon had left Raph had woken up again, asking almost immediately where Leon had gone. Noting how disoriented Raph seemed to be, April had made up the excuse that Leon had gone to the bathroom. Partly because she didn’t want Raph to try and get up, but also because she didn’t want to add any more stress to her biggest little brother even if he behaved and remained laying down. She just knew he would start imagining all the wrong scenarios in his overprotective mind. Probably start talking aloud that everything was fine to reassure himself. Get fidgety, want to check outside, and otherwise just not relax and rest like he needed to. He needed all the rest and care he could get.

When they had settled down in this room Raph had looked relatively okay despite the pain from his broken bones. Just a clenched jaw and furrowed brow behind his bright red mask. But now those rich green cheeks were flushed red, and his forehead was damp from sweat instead of the rain. April knew the signs of fever in all of her brothers, and even without a thermometer she could tell Raph’s temperature was creeping up. Leon had anticipated it, and had already given him a fever reducer that he’d had stolen while gathering supplies. But they weren’t exactly in the best circumstances. The tarp on the floor wasn’t that comfortable. The blankets weren’t that thick. And their sanitized bubble of space wasn’t impenetrable. They needed antibiotics, and a proper bed at the very least. As soon as Raph had shivered once April had wiggled out from under him to crank up their space heater. Then her own blanket was tossed over him before she slipped his bandana off so his face didn’t overheat.

Two hours after Leon had left April couldn’t bring herself to make up another excuse when Raph opened his eyes again amidst her absently rubbing his head. His right eye was always slightly unfocused after the damage it’d sustained from the Krang, but now even his left eye was finding it difficult to register where April was in the dark. Yet despite that it didn’t take much effort at all for him to notice Leon still wasn’t there.

“... Wh’rs Leo now?” Raph asked, slightly mumbled from exhaustion and fever haze. He sounded a little grumpy, but April knew it was just his worry creeping up into his sleepy mumbles.

“...He went to get Donnie and Mikey,” April relented this time, not willing to lie to Raph a third time and shifting her phone so that he could see the screen as well. Leon’s icon had come to a stop with the other two, and April kept telling herself it was because he’d finally located them, and was just taking care of them or something. Checking their physical and mental wellbeing. Catching them up on what had happened. Making sure no one saw them. The usual. His vitals had had a spike in heart rate at one point, but it was calm now. As were Donnie’s and Lil Mikey’s. So they had to be fine. Right?

“...What?” Raph almost wheezed, shifting to sit up and grinding his teeth when even twitching his leg sent stabbing waves of pain up it.

“Easy there, big guy,” April protested, placing a hand gently on Raph’s chest, pressing lightly to direct him to lay back down.

After halting his movements and giving a slight hiss, Raph looked back to April with a slight squint. “Why didn’t he wake Raph? I should be helping him get the others-”

“You know you’re not in any condition to be moving around,” April interrupted quietly, but firmly. “Don’t make me lecture you. We agreed after the Krang that no one would be doing anymore self sacrifice bull crap, remember? That includes forcing yourself to do what you physically or mentally shouldn’t when there isn’t immediate danger.” Her scolding felt shallow, but the conviction was still there under the sleep worn exterior. No more hiding injuries. No more getting seriously hurt to save others. They were to include themselves when it came to protecting who needed it most.

At first Raph wanted to be belligerent towards April. It was his job to look after his brothers. He was the oldest. It had always been that way. Especially if they were in an unfamiliar place like they were now. If he’d heard Leon correctly, they were apparently in an alternate dimension. And while Raph was probably the least scientifically inclined of them, he’d seen enough sci-fi stories to know what that meant. This was probably the most unfamiliar place they could get. He wanted to be there for his brothers. Not only to rescue Donnie and Lil Mikey, but also to be there to support Leon. But hearing April remind him of their agreement deflated his stubbornness almost instantaneously. He knew he could move on his own if he had to. His ninpo apparition would make it easier to not use his leg. But he didn’t need to move right then. As far as they knew, he was the most injured. So it was his job to behave and not worry the others. And he’d be lying if he said he didn’t also just want to curl up and cry whenever he did move his leg. It was worse than when his shell had been broken.

Seeing Raph almost deflate into obedience, April let out a breath in a tired sigh and returned to rubbing his head. “There you go,” she complimented, grateful for his choice. “He said to wait until noon, and if he wasn’t back here by then to come looking for him,” she added, just so Raph knew they had a plan other than sit and wait endlessly.

She sounded so tired. And that, combined with everything else caused Raph to let out a small whimper as he shifted to wrap his arms around back around April. “...Okay… Raph will wait,” he agreed quietly, silently wondering what he could do for April in turn. He couldn’t imagine she was comfortable waiting in the dark on her own. So this time Raph stubbornly didn’t let himself fall back to sleep, staying curled around April as they gave each other comfort in the dark. It was hard to pass the time in silence, and unfortunately Raph’s brain felt a little more fuzzy than usual. He didn’t think talking about the others would help either, he knew it wouldn’t help him stay calm. So he ended up pulling himself to other, way less important thoughts. “....Do you think they have Jupiter Jim in this dimension?”

April couldn’t help snorting at the seemingly random question. But she found the topic was actually incredibly calming. “If they don’t I’m gonna be extremely disappointed,” shifting her attention to her phone with the thought to search for it on the internet. Seeing the tracking screen again though, she paused before looking back to Raph. “Do you have your phone? I’m not sure how to get back into this screen if I exit,” she admitted with a slight grimace.

“Yeah, I still have it,” Raph nodded, moving his hand from his hug just long enough to get his phone from his shell and pass it to April after unlocking it.

Quietly tapping the franchise name into a search engine, April ended up scoffing. “Whaaat? Nothing came up? Okay this dimension officially sucks now. What about your dad, are there any of his movies?” she huffed, immediately switching to the next curiosity.

Raph had to snort at her choice of search, and furrowed his brow. “... I dunno. We’re kind of an oddity…” he mused. He and his brothers were decidedly created by someone, not just a common species. He wasn’t sure how that would factor into consistencies between dimensions if something like Jupiter Jim wasn’t there.

“Euh, you’re right. Nothing came up for his movies either. Laaaaame,” April groaned, rolling her eyes.

Raph could feel the tension slipping out of her frame as she excitedly began looking up other things that were familiar to them. The Nexus Hotel wasn’t there, but surprisingly there was still a pizza chain called Lou Mike Tony’s Pizzeria. The two ended up excitedly making a note to try and get some once everything calmed down so they could compare. It made the next hour much more bearable, and they ended up slightly startled when a familiar blue portal whisked into view near them, momentarily illuminating the room as Leon slipped through before it closed.

“April!- Raph!” Leon blurted when he saw them, including Raph when he saw his big brother was awake this time and had jerked his head to look at him.

“Leo!- GAhhkk” Raph called, his attempt to sit up and greet his brother interrupted by another fierce pain firing up his leg.

“Woah there. Take it easy,” Leon cautioned, rushing over to crouch next to Raph and offer support. Even in the dark it only took him seconds to notice Raph’s flushed cheeks, and a brief expression of worry flashed over Leon’s features as he reached up a hand to Raph’s forehead. “Sss… okay, bit higher than expected…,” Leon hissed more to himself, eyes flicking down to Donnie’s wrist computer on his own arm and swiping the screen over to the vitals. 38.7 degrees celsius for Raph. Not horrible, but not good either. Leon knew they wouldn’t be able to avoid a fever, but he’d been hoping he’d have more time than this. At least he had a good place to take Raph and April too now though.

“Did you find Donnie and Mikey?!” April rushed while Leon checked the wrist screen, wedging next to Raph’s side to act as a prop to hold him if needed and handing his phone back to him. She could see Leon checking all of their vitals, so she knew she didn’t have to tell him about changes in Raph’s condition.

“Yeah!” Leon chirped, a bright smile returning to his features as he looked up to them. “They’re okay- Well, they’re a little banged up, but they’re already taken care of and sleeping. These really great guys from this dimension that are probably pretty much us already found them and took care of them,” he rambled, unable to sit still in his eagerness to get back. “They’re also gonna let me borrow their hella cool infirmary to fix up Raph! April you should see it! It’s like a whole hospital crammed into one room! They even have an MRI machine! At least I think that’s what it was….”

April listened to Leon in mild disbelief, what she was hearing conflicting with what she and Raph had thought more than half an hour ago. “Hold up-,” she paused, raising her hand, palm open. “They have the best ninja turtles ever in this dimension too, but no Lou Jitsu?”

“They don’t have Lou Jitsu here?” Leon repeated, looking borderline offended. “Wow, that sucks. Though I guess it makes sense. Their dad is kinda…. Weird. So quiet and…regal? I dunno. I feel like he’s one of those old dudes that just sits and drinks tea all day,” he mused, scrunching his nose slightly. He didn’t think he’d like not being able to roughhouse with and tease his dad. But that was a topic for later, and he pushed it aside in his mind as he addressed Raph again, leaving April to try and configure an image in her mind of this other version of their dad.

“We’re going to have to move you again Raph. Think you can handle it? I’ll try to make the distance as short as possible,” Leon informed apologetically, shifting around to crouch and wiggle underneath Raph’s arm on the opposite side of April.

“Are we going where Dee and Mikey are?” Raph asked, unable to resist giving Leon a little squeeze hug once he was squished under his arm.

“Yup! They’ll be in the same room. But we’re going to fix your leg before letting you join them, okay?” Leon confirmed after giving a small wheeze squeak and laugh at being squished.

Seeing Leon in such a good mood compared to the last time he saw him, Raph realized wherever they were going it was apparently safe enough for Leon to want to be there. And that was enough to reassure Raph that all of them would probably be alright. “Okay, let’s get going then,” Raph nodded, realizing they needed to get moving before the relief Leon brought washed away all resistance he had to the desire to lay back down. Shifting to help Leon and April lift him to his feet, Raph bit back almost all of his whimpers as the trio heaved the group up as carefully as they could. “Easy. Gently. Sorry,” Leon chattered uneasily, pushing back the heartache bubbling up in his chest. “Don’t put any weight on your leg at all okay?” Leon ordered just in case Raph forgot or wasn’t thinking about it, and adjusted his own position to try and take all of Raph’s weight off his broken leg. He wished he had a better way to move them, but portal dropping him onto the surgery table was risky as well as too jarring. So he just had to keep his heart in his chest, forcing himself to be steady as every noise from Raph made him want to stop moving completely, and gradually help them make their way through the new portal he opened.

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Iiiiii struggled so freaking hard with this one ;v; Not only because I just couldn't get words to work to give this part the attention I wanted (it's barely acceptable now), but I've been working on a massive collab image, and then also got super distracted by a game's story |DDD oops.

you for your patience <3 Hope you enjoy the Raph snuggles =7=

#my art #rottmnt #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #cross dimension kidnapping #Raph #April #rise + 2003 crossover #writing #long post

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