#elephant corridors

[francoise-larouge]

Bientôt un livre de photographies ©FrançoiseLarouge

[townpostin]

Dhalbhumgarh Airport Project Faces Hurdles as Forest Clearance Returned for Revisions

The Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change requests more details on Dhalbhumgarh Airport’s forest clearance proposal, clarifying the site isn’t within the Elephant Corridor. The Ministry of Environment, Forest and Climate Change (MoEF&CC) has returned the Dhalbhumgarh Airport project’s forest clearance proposal to the Jharkhand government, seeking additional information and…

[reasonsforhope]

"Winning what’s been called the ‘Green Nobel’ an Indian environmental activist has been recognized for saving a 657 square-mile forest from 21 coal mines.

From the New Delhi train station to high-end hotels to the poorest communities, virtually no one in India is free from periodic blackouts. As part of the Modi regime’s push for a developed and economically dominant India, power generation of every sort is being installed in huge quantities.

GNN has reported this drive has included some of the world’s largest solar energy projects, but it also involves coal. India is one of the largest consumers of coal for electricity generation, and Hasdeo Aranya forests, known as the “Lungs of Chhattisgarh,” are known to harbor large deposits.

The state government had been investigating 21 proposed coal mining blocks across 445,000 acres of biodiverse forests that provide crucial natural resources to the area’s 15,000 indigenous Adivasi people.

Along with the Adivasi, tigers, elephants, sloth bears, leopards, and wolves, along with dozens of endemic bird and reptile species call this forest home. It’s one of India’s largest intact arboreal habitats, but 5.6 billion metric tons of mineable coal threatened to destroy it all.

Enter Alok Shukla, founder of the Save Hasdeo Aranya Resistance Committee, which began a decade ago advocating for the protection of Hasdeo through a variety of media and protest campaigns, including sit-ins, tree-hugging campaigns, advocating for couples to write #savehasdeo on their wedding invitations, and publishing a variety of other social media content.

Shukla also took his message directly to the legislature, reminding them through news media coverage of their obligations to India’s constitution which enshrines protection for tribal people and the environments they require to continue their traditional livelihoods.

Beginning with a proposal to create a single protected area called Lemru elephant reserve within Hasdeo that would protect elephant migration corridors and cancel three of the 21 mining proposals, Shukla and the Adivasi began a 160-mile protest march down a national highway towards the Chhattisgarh state capital of Raipur.

They hadn’t even crossed the halfway mark when news reached them that not only was the elephant reserve idea unanimously agreed upon, but every existing coal mining proposal had been rejected by the state legislature, and all existing licenses would be canceled.

“We had no expectations, but the legislative assembly voted unanimously that all of the coal mines of Hasdeo should be canceled, and the forest should be saved,” Shukla says in recollection to the Goldman Prize media channel.

“That was a very important moment and happy moment for all of us.”

Shukla shares the 2024 Goldman Environmental Prize with 5 other winners, from Brazil, the US, South Africa, Australia, and Spain."

-via Good News Network, May 20, 2024. Video via Goldman Environmental Prize, April 29, 2024.

[hjparisian]

colors- harry j potter x reader

"You were red, and you liked me because I was blue But you touched me, and suddenly I was a lilac sky Then you decided purple just wasn't for you"

p: harry potter x ravenclaw! gn! reader s: roses are red, violets are blue, y/n had harry, but did harry want them too? w: implication of smut (no description), angst, cussing a/n: just something from the drafts i decided to finish while i try find the motivation to write. apologies for any mistakes or inconsistencies

(Y/N) (L/N) and Harry Potter got together in the fifth year after dealing with a week of detention together, curtesy of Dolores Umbridge. Harry got in trouble for speaking out about Voldemort, while (Y/N) argued with him. The pain they endured from Umbridge had actually brought them together. He found out that one of (Y/N)'s relatives had died from death eaters in the first wizarding war, which is why they believed him.

They begun hanging with each other outside of detention. Though it was always just meeting in the library. Ron and Hermione would often notice Harry going into the library, which is rare for the Harry James Potter. Often, Hermione and Ron would asked where he would be heading off to. His response? "Oh, the library. Got loads of stuff to do." And he would try to escape before they asked any more questions.

First, it was mostly (Y/N) and Harry trying to study together, helping each other out in their weaker subjects. Then they started casually chatting, Harry attempting to avoid doing his potions essay (which (Y/N) would always force him to do). Then they started seeing each other outside the library, they'd meet each other at the Black Lake, or sneak into each other's dorms when their roommates weren't there.

Upon the discovery of the room of requirement, Harry decided it has other uses than just the DA. For what one may ask? Hormonal teenage things. Aside from housing over twenty students to perform spells their DADA teacher refuses to let them do, it was the perfect place for Harry to please (Y/N) and vice versa. Red with blue, Gryffindor with a Ravenclaw. Two people together in ecstasy, and no one could bother them.

The moment people began realizing Harry and (Y/N) were together was from a little clothing mishap. The two were late to dinner in the Great Hall after shagging in the come and go room and had to quickly get dressed so Harry wouldn't miss the treacle tart. When the two burst into the hall and sat at their respective tables, they noticed some stares in their direction. Padma Patil, (Y/N)'s friend and fellow Ravenclaw pointed out the elephant in the room.

"(Y/N) why is your tie red?"

Meanwhile at the Gryffindor table, Harry is being asked the same question by his best mate Ron.

"Er- Harry? Why's your tie blue?"

"(Y/N) over at the Ravenclaw table has a red tie," Hermione points out. "Which I assume is yours?"

Ron's head looked like it could've exploded based on his reaction. "Harry were you shagging (Y/N)?" he asks him. Harry couldn't deny it, especially when the proof was right in front of the whole school, so he slowly nodded.

"Bloody hell Harry," Ron says. "I can't believe it. Was it good?"

Hermione then hits Ron with her charms book. "Ron that is disgusting!"

"What? I was just curious!"

Though Harry didn't respond, he would say it was good. Wonderful.

The rest of the year was wonderful for both (Y/N) and Harry now that they didn't have to sneak around the orders. But (Y/N) would be lying if they said it wasn't fun and exhilarating.

It wasn't until the beginning of sixth year that things began to change. (Y/N) started noticing Harry's gaze no longer lingered on them, but rather elsewhere. His best friend's sister.

Everytime they'd insinuate on sneaking away to the broom closet, Harry would always have some sort of excuse. Whether it was 'I have extra homework for potions' or 'meeting with Ron', every excuse in the book was used. (Y/N) had enough.

(Y/N) was strolling the corridors, heading to the Gryffindor common room to find a certain raven haired boy and give him a piece of their mind. It didn't take long as they bumped into the one they were looking for as they were turning the corner.

"Harry?"

"(Y/N)."

"I need to talk to you," both of them said.

"Can I go first?" Harry asked. "It's important."

(Y/N) reluctantly let him. Though they wish they went first as soon as Harry opened his mouth.

"I think we should stop seeing each other."

"What?" (Y/N) asked in shock. "Why?"

Harry was looking at the ground refusing to meet their eyes.

"I've just been busy lately. We haven't had time together and I think it's just better for us to end things here," Harry said.

(Y/N) scoffed. "You've been busy? With what exactly? Cozying up with your best friend's sister, hm?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "(Y/N) its not that, there's just a lot going on-"

"Like what?" (Y/N) huffs.

"Oh I don't know," Harry began. "Maybe having to figure out how to stop Voldemort? Having to deal with being the Chosen One?"

(Y/N) stayed silent.

"Hell, I thought you would've understood that. Everyone else understands what I'm going through."

"Well I-"

Harry stops them. "Honestly, (Y/N), don't bother. We're done." He left with the last word.

Ever since that day, (Y/N) couldn't stomach seeing the Gryffindor boy. Especially when their worst thoughts came true a week later.

Ginny and Harry were walking into the Great Hall holding hands.

(Y/N) sat still in their spot at the Ravenclaw table, watching the new glowing couple head to the Gryffindor table. Ron and Hermione sat with smiles on their faces.

"Wait a moment-" Padma says from her seat next to (Y/N), also watching the two lions. "I thought you and Harry were together."

Her friend shook their head. "Not really. I mean, we've talked but." They paused.

Padma raises her eyebrow. "But what?"

"I don't know," (Y/N) says, turning back to see Harry wrapping an arm around Ginny. "I guess it just wasn't meant to be."

Padma stares at her friend with sad eyes. She reaches over to wrap her arms in a hug around (Y/N).

"I'm sorry (Y/N). He's a right foul git for that."

(Y/N) nods. He may have been a git but he was supposed to be their foul git. But the lion decided he didn't want to play with the raven anymore. He wanted to play with someone like him.

Harry was red, but (Y/N) was blue. When they touched, all (Y/N) could see was the colors of a serene sun setting sky. But Harry wanted to see more of the blazing colors of the sun. So he chose to run.

And (Y/N) will never forgive him.

[tekumaniac311]

Rider Rescue: Prologue

<CRITTER>, the Space Rider space shuttle. Early afternoon.

"This Red Smoke emitter is a fake?" Said the orange dog as the blue elephant examined it. He nodded and turned to the orange dog and the purple cat who gave confused expressions. Bubba Bubbaphant then looked back down on the device.

"That doesn't make sense. Me, Catnap, Kickin and Hoppy took out the cultists and recovered the device all too easily, i don't like it." Dogday said scratching his chin, Catnap shrugged as well in agreement.

"Hmm, I'll put it away with the other recovered cult items." Bubba said, taking it away and placing it in their evidence vault, however when Bubba turned away, it transformed into a tiny robotic spider and followed him out of the vault. As the tiny robot spider crawled on the walls, we zoom into it's one eye to see that one of the Prototype cultists is controlling it via remote.

"Are you sure this will work?" Another cultist asked it's ally. "Of course! The security controls should be in the upcoming room." The cultist replied, steering the robot carefully to avoid attention. The tiny spider bot crawled onto the roof, watching Bobby and Picky leave the security room, it then snuck in and approached the control panel.

"Now, disable their security systems." The cultist ordered the controller. "Right" The other cultist replied, tapping the buttons. The robot used it's eye to emit a cutting laser into the control panel, it then crawled in and cut away most of the wires and sending a mini-EMP, with that the entire security grid of the ship is down. Step 2 of the plan was now underway: A small ship flew up towards the Critters shuttle and approached the docking bay doors, the doors opened for the ship to dock and out stepped...a group of Prototype cultists!

"It's worked, they don't suspect a thing." The lead cultist spoke, the group headed off to find their targets.

Meanwhile in the Rec Room

All eight of the Riders were minding their business, Dogday was looking out at the window when he was approached by Crafty.

Noticing, he turned to face her. "Crafty?" Dogday asked. "Sorry to bother, captain but i want your opinion." She explained politely. "Go right ahead." Dogday spoke, Crafty then pulled up two outfits "Red or indigo?" Dogday was a blank for a moment, "Uuuhh, indigo, indigo's good."

Before Crafty could thank, the lights to the entire room went out!

"Huh??" Kickin yelped as he stood up from the couch. "Probably a fuse or something?" Bobby piped in. "I'll go check it." She said with a smile and walked outside, a few minutes in the dark the Riders were starting to feel...concerned, Bobby hasn't been back. Surely a trip to the ships power grid wouldn't take that long, right?

"I'll check." Catnap said and stood up, but as he opened the door, the purple cats blood completely froze. In front of him, in the darkness was a horde of red eyes and smiles, in the center of it all was Bobby, unconscious and tied up. Catnap turned back to his friends with a blank stare.

"We have a problem." Catnap muttered.

Before they knew it, the rest of the cult charged into the rec room immediately, the squad fought back in the darkness but it was hard to see! Not to mention they were completely off guard in the dark!

"Crafty! Get to the briefing room and radio Poppy! We can't handle them like this! Just go! RUN!!" Dogday yelped as he was grabbed from behind by a cultist, Dogday blasted it away with a sun ball but was tackled by another.

Crafty didn't waste any time, kicking the cultists that approached her out of the way, she bolted for the door and ran down the dark corridor toward the briefing room. "One of them is getting away!" A cultist in the distance spoke. Crafty just kept running, it was tricky to search in the darkness but thankfully made it to the briefing room.

Tapping the controls to boot up the console, the hologram of Poppy herself appeared. "Crafty? What's going on?" Crafty then explained "We have a problem!! Big one! We've been compromised! Send backup!"

Poppy paused at Crafty's claim "W..what??" She blinked sternly "Repeat that??" Crafty took a breather and looked back, hearing distant footsteps before facing Poppy's hologram. "I'm not sure what happened, but we've been somehow compromised and the cult have infiltrated our ship, we request backup!" Crafty told her "Right, I'll contact the--"

Before Poppy could go on, a cultist grabbed Crafty from behind, placing a cult mask over her face, Crafty struggled but to no avail. "MMM!! MMM!!---" The transmission was then abruptly cut off, Poppy was a blank with horror.

“Backup! On it!” The android piped as she quickly accessed the ships tracker and checked for the ships current position, she found that it was moving for the cultists had managed to hijack it and was heading for a nearby planet. Poppy then activated a communication tab, to scan for the nearest Space Rider squad from Dogdays, the icon that showed caused Poppy’s CPU(an androids heart right??) to drop.

The closest crew from Dogdays icon was a solar eclipse. Poppy immediately recognised it, previous talks with that group had learned that their leader has had some…complicated history with Dogday, and open disdain for Dogday no less. Poppy reluctantly took a huff.

“You knew this would probably happen at one point..” she said to herself and tapped the icon, awaiting a response…

TO BE CONTINUED

Space Riders AU belongs to @onyxonline

[chiefdirector]

Skiving | Tim Bradford | The Rookie

Act Two| Chapter 30 | Chapter 31 | Chapter 32

“And you’re sure that’s how they’re connected?” (Y/N) questioned as Talia finished recalling the intel she had spent the early hours of the morning gathering. 

“Since when have I been wrong?” Talia rebutted, slight humour lacing her tone. 

(Y/N) smiled. “Fair enough. But I don’t know how the ATFE operates. You could have lost all your standards for all I know.”

Talia went to speak but was cut off by Kojo’s excited barking as he barrelled himself towards the front door. The two women shot each other confused looks, only for them to be dropped as Tim’s voice rang out from down the corridor. 

“(Y/N)? Are you still here?” He said, making his way into the house, Kojo was practically bouncing at his feet. “I saw your car outside.”

“Through here,” (Y/N) called back, moving to great him halfway. “What are you doing at home? You didn’t get fired, did you?”

Tim laughed as he shook his head, leaning down to kiss his wife. He only managed a split second of affection before Talia coughed, announcing her presence.  

“Bishop? What are you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same, Bradford.” She rebutted, crowing her arms. 

��It’s my house.”

“Doesn’t answer my question.” Talia moved past the couple, reaching down to five Kojo a quick pet as she headed towards the door, stopping before she crossed the threshold . “I’ll let you know if I found out anything else. It was good to see you again.”

(Y/N) returned the sentiment as Bishop saw herself out, her attention only flickering back to her husband once the door shut. “She had some information on why Regina Diaz did what she did. Angela asked her to look into it. But you never did answer my question… why are you here?”

“I spoke to Grey and Caradine. We both got the rest of the day off. So after your appointment, I’m taking you out. Speaking of which… aren’t you meant to leave soon?”

(Y/N)’s eyes flickered across to the clock on the wall. “Crap- yeah like ten minutes ago. I can meet you back here?”

“No need. I’ll drive you.” Tim held up his keys, gesturing for (Y/N) to lead the way to his truck. 

————

Tim jolted awake as he heard the passenger side door slam shut. Instinctually he reached for his duty belt, only to find himself in his civilian gear. As he did so, he whipped his head to the side, looking for any sign of activity, only to find (Y/N) looking at him somewhat sheepishly. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you,” she said, belting herself up. 

“Don’t worry about it. I should get used to it. You have less grace than an elephant.”

(Y/N) let out a noise of indignation as Tim chuckled, slotting his keys back into the ignition. 

“I’m going to ignore that.” She said, looking at the window as Tim pulled out of the parking lot. “Where are you taking us?”

“Depends.”

“…On what?”

“On how romantic you feel right now.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow as Tim spoke, keeping silent as she tried to figure out where exactly he was taking her. It only dawned on her when she saw his familiar smirk as he turned the truck into a familiar road. 

You know, the shooting range is not quite what I think of when you say ‘romantic.’” She said getting out of the now parked truck, meeting him in front of the vehicle. 

“Hey, I think this is very romantic.” Tim defended, holding (Y/N)’s hand as they walked down the dreary corridor, company assigned equipment in hand. She tried not to pay attention to the flickering lights but the compulsion to comment took over. 

Reaching the end of the corridor, he opened the door open to allow (Y/N) to enter the shooting room. “We had our first date here after all.”

“I remember. I was so flustered I could barely shoot straight.”

“No,” Tim laughed, heading into his assigned area loading his off duty weapon the second he stopped moving. “You just have a crap aim.”

“I do not!” She defended, reaching into her own boot to retrieve her own weapon. 

Tim smirked, relishing in the knowledge that his teasing tactics still worked. “Wanna bet? 20 bucks says I shoot better than you.”

(Y/N) raised her weapon, aiming it at the paper target before her. Carefully, she held her sim, pulling the trigger and sending the bullet flying directly into the head of the paper man. “You’re on.”

————-

(Y/N) rolled her eyes as she passed Tim the folded up bill. Quickly, he snatched it from her hand before she could change her mind. He had been floating since they had left the range, and now they had arrived back home, he didn’t feel like stopping any time soon. 

“It was by two points!” (Y/N) said, annoyance running in her voice. “You’re not better, you distracted me.”

“Sounds like someone's a sore loser.” Tim teased. “If it makes you feel better, I’ll let you pick the movie. Consider it a participation trophy.”

“Consider it a participation trophy.” (Y/N) mocked under her breath as she sat down on the sofa, Kojo cuddling up beside her. Tim looked mildly offended by Kojo’s favouritism as he moved to sit on (Y/N)’s other side. 

“What was that?” He laughed

“Nothing!”

Tim hummed in acknowledgment, silently dropping the subject. Quickly he pulled out his phone to see how long the DoorDasher would take with their food.  

“Thank you,” (Y/N) said after a moment, bringing Tim’s attention back to her. “For today. I had a great time.”

Gently, he leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. “You never need to thank me for spending time with you. It will always be my pleasure.”

(Y/N) leaned back, resting her head on his chest. Snuggling down, she pulled a blanket over the two of them as Tim fished the remote and opened Netflix. 

After another silent moment, (Y/N) quietly spoke. “But if you ever cheat at the range again, I will divorce you.”

Tim’s chuckles vibrated through his chest, “Okay, baby, whatever you say.”

Masterlist

Tags: @xceafh @kmc1989 @buba424 @salty0cracker @iamasimpingh0e @malindacath @agentred27 @hufflepuffwhore13 @tessalynni @anaferreira-4 @starstruckchopshoptyphoon @alessiamargaux @rexit-mo @ladespedidas @omg-its-vixen @agentcable @rookietrek @fluentmoviequoter @wonderland2425

[forest-falcon]

The Butterfly Effect

Chptr 14

🧡❤️🩶💛🚒🐦‍🔥

"So what's the plan?" Rigby jogged up alongside John.

"Here," John pressed a button at his wrist and the rock face in front of them opened; much the way a garage door might.

"Impressive," Rigby mused aloud. He let out a long, low whistle as he stepped inside.

"We need to clear a path around the pool. Jetpacks just won't cut it if we're gonna try n' stabilize One," John pointed to his brother's green Bird.

"Need me to pilot her?" Rigby's face held more than a trace of excitement.

"Oh...no, sorry," John scratched the back of his head.

"You'll be driving one of her pods. When we've cleared enough of the debris, and the villa has been stabilized; I may need you in Phoenix's carrier to help with moving One."

Rigby straightened and gave a nod.

"Time is scarce. Reports say Alan's okay, but we have a further three people in the villa who may require urgent medical attention, and I can't risk McCready's team in there until we know they have a chance at making it back out again," John sighed.

Rigby cleared his throat; his face visually construing a silent inner-debate.

"What?" John urged, then winced inwardly at his tone. Adjusting to Earth's gravity appeared to be even more wearing when fearing for your family's well being.

"You know, you can call them by name - Virgil and Gordon. We...we have your back," Rigby gave John an awkward clap on the back.

The clap echoed around the cavernous hangar.

John swallowed hard to staunch impending tears. There was a second's pause, before the astronaut stepped into his missing brother's Bird.

*. *. *.

"Knock, knock!" Parker called to signal his arrival outside of Alan's door.

"Erm...am I supposed to say who's there?" Alan's young voice came back.

" 'Oo's there? Well, hI'm glad to see that yer haven't lost your sense of humour along with yer bedroom!" Parker chuckled as he worked the lock on Alan's door.

There was a satisfying sound of the latch clicking, and the door swung open.

"Looks like you could use an 'and, Master Alan," he smiled, extending a hand.

"F-A-B-," Alan enthused, hauling himself up, and into the corridor, with Parker's help.

The teen cracked his back.

"Welp, I think I now hold the Tracy Island record for the longest pull up!"

*. *. *.

"We had to make an 'ole in Master Gordon's window to get to you. 'Fraid your brother's parking had made somewhat of a mess," Parker gestured towards Gordon's rooms.

"Didn't you teach him to drive?" Alan grinned.

"Cars, young Master Tracy, not rocket ships! And, I'll 'ave less of yer cheek! Scott might not be firin' on all cylinders at the moment, but you mark my words - I 'ave a memory like an elephant!" Parker chuckled, wagging a finger.

"You look like one too!"

"Oi!" Parker swatted at the teen as he ran.

*. *. *.

John and Rigby had made light work of clearing the debris surrounding the villa, and the structure was stabilised enough for a team to head up to help locate Virgil, Grandma, and Gordon.

"HELLO? VIRG? GRANDMA? GORD-"

"-OVER HERE!" Gordon hammered a small rock against a metal support beam.

The team tentatively picked their way over splintered floorboards and around mounds of rock that lay strewn across what was left of the comms room.

"Allie, is that you?"

"The one and only! I've brought some friends with me. Didn't wanna hog all the glory, y'know?"

"Phoenix?"

"Yup!"

Jonesy took a step closer, with a small hydraulic whine from the suit.

"Jonesy?"

"S'up Gords? I like what you've done with the place. You're kinda lacking in the door department though."

"Well y'know what Virgil always says; if you can't find a door, make one!" Gordon called from behind the fallen rocks.

"My thoughts exactly!"

"WAIT!" Tycho was almost pulled forwards into the rock face as he tried to stall Jonesy's suited arm.

"The structure's too unstable. Any attempt to move these boulders risks the whole lot coming down on top of Gordon," Tycho gesticulated wildly.

"Yeah, let's not do that." Gordon deadpanned.

"So what's the plan?" Jonesy couldn't deny that the thrill of using the exosuit had him itching to use his new superpower again. Two tonne boulder? No problem! He'd just shifted it like....kapow!

Tycho dragged his hands down his face as he thought.

"Hmm...we need to get a better view of what we're dealing with. Right here, we can only see half of the puzzle." Tycho pensively ran a hand down the largest boulder.

"And how are we gonna do that?" Jonesy was under the distinct impression that Tycho wasn't referencing the exosuit.

"I think I have just the thing!"

The scientist bent down and unfastened the clasps of a small metal case he'd carried down from the carrier.

"Jonesy, meet Mini Max.”

[kiigan]

@shisui-uchiha-rp

ㅤNot his most graceful entrance. Silent as usual, a shadow in the dark of night and nearly untraceable if it wasn't for the eerie red glow of his eyes - yet, the moment Itachi finally found himself past the open window of the very cramped living room, it took every ounce of self-restraint [and dignity] to not just allow himself to flop on his face like a loaf of stale bread. Home, finally, after almost an entire week.

ㅤThe mission hadn't even been that dangerous, truth be told. But it had been long, and it had been laborious, and it had been hectic, and, by the gods, with only two ANBU operatives dispatched, it had stretched favorable odds very thin; even when one of them, himself, was a one-man army. A one-boy army, to be accurate. Whatever. The only thing that mattered, now, was the familiar scent of worn-out wood floorboards and his favorite fabric softener and piled up books from the library still awaiting free time to be read. A myriad recipes with vegetables, taxonomy charts and dichotomous keys to identify reptiles because why not, general geography of the Land of Earth.

Home, yes.

ㅤThere was also the obsessive meticulous part of him that was insisting he ought to still write the mission report before officially blacking out/sleeping like the dead for a few hours, so that it could easily and promptly be delivered to the Hokage in the morning... but, for once, Itachi truly was considering ignoring it. Not for lack of will, rather because he was so thoroughly exhausted. Sore muscles and aching limbs and a dull, annoying headache throbbing behind his eyes as reward for overusing them. That and, of course, the acidic taste of death staining his hands and never to be purged again, but that was nothing new anymore. None of it was, truly. Frightening, how atrocious acts so easily became routine.

ㅤForcing his legs-as-heavy-as-lead to move, sparing only a moment to push the weasel-shaped mask slightly askew to hang by the side of his head instead, the young clan heir headed over to the corridor and, from there, to the bedroom. No lights and no sound, as far as his senses could tell [which... really, wasn't all that much, at the moment; an elephant might be able to sneak past him], and that meant that Shisui was likely asleep. Good. Excellent. Let at least one of them be a functional human being. Just to be sure, though, and to not risk accidentally waking up his friend, he peeked inside first and called very softly.

«Shisui...?»

[yrluvjane]

| 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝐈𝐭 𝐃𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 |

Chapter One: The Night it Bled

Warning: Angst, self-hate.

Summary: 8 years after the haunting incident of Lord and Lady Potter on 31st of October 1981, Harry and Jean finally visit their parents, However, Harry's feelings towards the trip are concerning .

Harry and Jean were met with the familiar smell of soaps and cleaners and the triggering scents of — well hospitals; which, ironically, made them feel sick as they walked into St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.

They were in what seemed to be a crowded reception area where rows of witches and wizards sat upon rickety wooden chairs, some looking perfectly normal and perusing out-of-date copies of Witch Weekly, others sporting gruesome disfigurements such as elephant trunks or extra hands sticking out of their chests.

The room was scarcely less quiet than the street outside, for many of the patients were making very peculiar noises... Witches and wizards in lime-green robes were walking up and down the rows, asking questions and making notes on clipboards. Jean noticed the emblem embroidered on their chests: a wand and bone, crossed.

They followed through the double doors and along the narrow corridor beyond, which was lined with more portraits of famous Healers and lit by crystal bubbles full of candles that floated up on the ceiling, looking like giant soapsuds.

More witches and wizards in lime-green robes walked in and out of the doors they passed; a foul-smelling yellow gas wafted into the passageway as they passed one door, and every now and then they heard distant wailing.

The fourth floor housed the Janus Thickey Ward, which was for the treatment of spell damage. It addressed unliftable jinxes, hexes, curses, incorrectly-applied charms,

"This is our long-term residents' ward. For permanent spell damage, you know. Of course, with intensive remedial potions and charms and a bit of luck, we can produce some improvement." The nurse introduces. "We usually keep the doors to the door locked to stop patients from wandering about."

"We do, however, allow patients to surround themselves with their personal possessions to make them feel more at home and, in many cases, to help remember who they were." She says, and Harry doubts that anyone other than Remus is listening to her.

His uncle Sirius is busy trying to cheer his sister up with jokes that he doubted was appropriate at a hospital and evidence of that is when a passing nurse gaped at Sirius and immediately rushed to tell another nurse.

Though Harry did appreciate Sirius trying to put a smile on Jean's face, and he was sure she too was grateful. "Mr. Potter, Miss Potter..." The healer calls and faces the siblings with an unsure look, wandering her eyes to the two adults with them before crouching to their level.

Jean crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at the Healer.

"This is the first time visiting your parents, no?" The latter asked. Both the ten year old and eight year old nodded. "Your parents were hit with a rather strong charm... when they came here, they were very hurt, and they were missing -"

"We know what happened to them." Jean says with a harsh edge to her tone. "Jean! Don't be rude." Harry stated, looking at his younger sister in disbelief. "Thank you, Mr. Potter, but it's fine. We expect this from everyone. I just want to warn you that they may not recognise you and to ask you not to mention anything related to the events of that night or your relationship with them." The healer asked, and Harry stared confusingly at his uncle Remus, then faced the healer.

"Why not?" Harry asked, sharing a worried look with his sister. Jean finally let her arms down. "Lord and Lady Potter seem to experience an unexplainable surge of pain whenever one brings up that fateful night, and sometimes these surges lead to excruciating mental pain or seizures."

"Why?" It's Jean that asks, her voice is soft and barely audiable with sadness, and Harry can see her chest rise and fall rapidly as she tries to prevent herself from crying. Sirius puts a hand on her shoulder and leans down to whisper something in her ear. Whatever it was must have worked cause the next thing she did was playfully push Sirius and send him a narrowed look.

Harry doesn't appreciate the pity he sees the mediwitch gives them, but he understands where it's coming from. After a rather long and partially unnecessary pep-talk from Remus and Sirius, Harry pulls his sister aside and takes her in a hug. The younger girl stares at him sadly before poking his face, "You're too emotional, y'know that right."

"Pads says I get it from dad. And you're too quiet. It's okay to hurt every once in a while." Jean only raises her brows, Harry grins they had only been arguing the other week on how he could lift one brow at time and she couldn't.

"Remus says I'm like mum, I'm taking that as a compliment." She says as she pushes his glasses back up his nose and smiles. Harry looks over her shoulder where the mediwitch is talking to their uncles in hushed tones and wary glances. Remus looks up and catches Harry eyes, he sends the raven-haired boy an encouraging smile.

"If you don't want to go in, we can come back some other time." Harry states, scratching mercilessly at his palm, his sweating in his clothes even if though the room they're in is spelled with cooling charms. "I can handle it, I'm not a baby, Harry!" She hisses at him. "I'm not! I– I'm not–" Harry can feel tear stinging in his eyes as he looks at the small creak between the ward's doors.

Behind those are his parents, his parents. Harry doesn't know what’s worse, this or not having parents at all. At some point in his life he forgot he even had those. It doesn't feel like he has parents. Remus and Sirius are his uncle's but Lord and Lady Potter were like fictional characters to him, they were heroes in the eyes in the wizarding world and for some reason everyone need to make it sound as though they were dead. And he has to wait, wait for that wave of emotion to hit when he realises they may not be buried in a coffin but they don't exist anymore, they don't even exist to each other.

He has to go in, he decides, next year he leaves for Hogwarts and he can't have—He can't have not met his parents! And he knows Jean wants to see them, she's stuck on it too. He doesn't blame her but Harry doesn't want go, he—

It's my fault Harry wants to say. The Dark Lord wanted him. Why did his parents and Jean need to suffer. He'd rather die than let his sister go through this. "I'm scared, Jean." He blurts quietly, and it's clear on his face and in his voice. Harry feels as though his under veritaserum. It comes out of him like a secret, and he feels a bit relieved when he says it. Jean's demenor immediately changes.

Despite Harry being the older one, his sister has always been the mature one. There it is, pity and sadness in her eyes, and Harry wants to hit himself against the wall. He can't handle it, not from her.

"Harry, why didn't you say anything?" She asks, pulling him closer and further to the side. She looks at him as though he's a wounded bird as though she might break him if she looks hard enough. "Because I'm not supposed to be scared!" But he is, he's scared they'll blame him. He knows it he's fault he sees every time Remus or Sirius or Jean look at a picture at mum or dad. But to hear it from them, the thought enough makes him feel sick.

He realises he's been for too quiet and Jean turns around towards their uncle's, no doubt about to ask them to leave. Harry manages to get there before her and declares they're ready.

He ignores the look of shock and disbelief from his sister and pulls his hand back when she tries to reach for him. The mediwitch puts an unnecessary hand on their back and whispers in their ear where they are. But Harry doesn't need her, he's already spotted his mum and dad the moment his stepped in.

They're far enough to not notice them but close enough for Harry to make out their faces. His dad is leaning back on a chair, his feet over the table, playing with a Snitch. His mum on the other hand is writing by the looks of it. While his father gives of an air of friendliness and companionship; his mother gives on of solitude, he head is hunched in her book and when Harry concentrates he can see her furrow her brows every once in a while.

He wants to see her and apologise and cry and be held and he wants her to hug him and tell him it's going to be alright. "I'll see dad." He mutters shamefully. It's truly a shameful Jean deserves to choose who to see first after all she was the one who was a baby and missed the chance to make memories with them then but Harry won't dare look at his mum.

He can't act as though he didn't sit there like an idiot that night and watched his mum and dad march to death just to save his useless existence. Jean is pulled by Remus for a hug, his whispering something while kissing her head, and Harry sees Jean nod. "How do you feel? Okay? Sad? Nauseous? We can get you something to eat. There should be a–"

"I'm fine, Pads." Harry whispers tiredly. He's so tired. He can't even bother to raise his glasses back up. He doesn't need to because Sirius does it for him. Harry smiles. It's mostly forced, but Harry can feel a genuiness somewhere. Contrary to popular belief, Sirius is the mum between him and Remus. Sirius kisses him on the head and ruffles his hair before playfully pushing towards his dad.

By the corner of his eyes, he can see Jean narrow her eyes at him with pursed lips and concerned brows. Now that he is getting closer to his dad, enough to make out the lightning shaped scar on his wrist, Harry gasps in a sharp breath before pushing himself forward.

"Hey!" Harry says awkwardly and is now aware of the itchiness of his hair. His dad, James Potter, turns toward him with a grin and suspicious eyes. He pushes his feet of the table and pockets the snitch. "Can I help you kid?" His dad asks.

Harry notes the dark curls they share, the glasses, the facial structure and it's almost like seeing an older version of himself. Everyone always tells him he has his father's look and grandmother eyes. It's Jean who is a complete copy of mum. Harry chokes on air and faces his dad with a worried expression.

"I'm...ahm...I'm Harry, Uncle Sirius' Godson?"

His dad's confused face almost instantly perks up, "Really? He talks a lot about you, y'know. His proud of you!"

"Oh uhm yeah, I guess...He's visiting someone and said I could come and hang out with you." Harry awkwardly lies. He begins to scratch the pad of his thumb in hopes to stop the bubbling sadness in his throat.

"You okay? You seem quite nervous? I promise I don't bite." His dad jokes and Harry misses the flick of an odd expression that sparks in his face. "Harry," James notes with a confused nod and said boy whips his head up in shock. "Yeah?" He asks unsurely.

"That's a really nice name." James says biting his lip and smiling, showing off his dimples. "So, Sirius tells me you're really good at Quidditch, a seeker right?"

"Yeah, my dad used to play." Harry replies with a small smile. Uncomfortable tears begin to burn his eyes and Harry needs to silently scratch at his thighs to prevent them from falling. "Is that why you play? Cause your dad used to?"

"I guess doing the things he used to do makes me feel as though he's doing it with me? It's crazy and weird. Whatever but I just...uhm...I just really make him proud." Harry admits, staring right back at his dad. The older man stares back it him with a soft smile and leans over to ruffle his hair. "You're a good kid, Harry. You're dad should be proud...I know I would."

"Really?" Harry asks and the tears that he's been trying to bury finally surface as James' scared face begins to blur. "No no no, don't cry. Please, don't cry." James' voice comes as Harry hangs his head down, tears falling freely. He feels his dad's hand over his shoulder and on his back; trying to calm him down.

"It's okay buddy. If it makes you feel any better my parents dead too." However, James realized that does not appropriate to say cause Harry let out a louder sob. "I'm sorry! I'm really sorry. I didn't mean too! I didn't know." Harry defends to his dad. He knows he won't understand what his saying or why he's saying it but Harry doesn't care. He wants to apologize, he wants his parents forgiveness, he needs it. He needs this pain, this guilt, to go away.

Harry's vision blurs as James takes of his glasses and wipes his tears with the sleeve of the red sweater his wearing. "Why don't talk about something else?...Remus says you have a younger sister! Why don't we talk about her?" James muses, hoping it will stop the little boy from crying.

Harry hiccups and almost laughs as his dad trips to get him water. "Here!"

Chapter Three: The Calm Before the Storm

Tagging: @sssstarstruck @cloudroomblog

[carameldansan]

Originally an ignyhide student who was politely asked to transfer to the pompfire dormitory after accidentally getting a ransomware virus by visiting sketchy websites meant to pirate korean soap operas. An unusual student at Raven college, known for being a destructive, careless individual who lacks foresight. Despite the infamous reputation of collecting lost items, never considering the owners; Suzuanne uses her unique magic to transfuse these various nicknacks to create an entirely new creation, primarily stuffed animals.

The origin of the lady’s infamous reputation involved a past incident with another first year student, whose family heirloom became the ingredients for Suzuanne’s newest stuffed animal, a purple elephant named Lumpy. Unfortunately, despite trying to be civil this altercation got heated requiring staff to break the altercation. Students who were in the lunch room at the time could only stare onwards in shock. Not long after, Suzuanne became a social wallflower, despite her earnest efforts to fix burned bridges – the altercation plummeted her reputation into the gutter. Rumors spread quickly across the corridors of the student’s forward, kind nature was nothing more than a facade. Leaving her with the nickname: “Raging Red”.

If one were to befriend the girl, looking past her airheaded and blunt nature; offensive to many. Suzuanne’s heart is in the right place, even if she doesn’t the grasp the concept. As an example, maybe in foresight it is not a good idea to bring a wild snake in-doors, reasoning being of the cold weather outside. Added with a short temper, willing to follow impulse thoughts. Rumors spread about Suzuanne are a hyperbole of her character, yet rooted in truth to an extent.

Despite her flaws, and reluctance to welcome Suzuanne, the Pompfire dormitory accepted her not because others were fearful of having an infamous new addition, but due to Suzuanne's ability to find beauty in everything; whether it be a rodent, serpent, or a forgotten trinket. ---- This is my Twisted Wonderland Oc (Yuu) Suzuanne!  Suzuanne is loosely inspired by the Backson from Winnie the pooh (2011).

[townpostin]

Forest Department Launches Plan to Curb Elephant Conflicts

International Experts to Visit Chakulia for Wildlife Management Insights Comprehensive strategy aims to provide resources for elephants and protect local communities. JAMSHEDPUR – Forest officials initiate multi-faceted approach to address human-elephant conflicts in the region. The Forest Department has unveiled an ambitious plan to tackle the growing issue of human-elephant conflicts in the…

[red1culous]

Loved

“…but you see you would need to put into context those slugs against the slugs of the world.” She hears your voice through carried on the air. Careful to avoid the loose plank on the floor she keeps in the shadows as much as possible walking in the direction of your voice. 

“Like what?” A tiny voice asks and she hears you chuckle softly. 

Natasha shuffles to the threshold of the door. It stands ajar so she peeks inside. She sees you perched on the edge of Morgan’s bed hugging one of her elephant plushies. Morgan is tucked into bed propped against too many pillows it looks like she’s being swallowed by bedding. 

“Well…” you continue as you take the opportunity to bop her button nose, “have you heard of the banana slug?”

Morgan scrunches her nose in slight disgust and Nat has to hold back a giggle of her own. “Eww no what is thatttt?” She whines. 

“That, sweet girl, is a slug this big” you raise your arms out in front and to your side and Morgan’s eyes grow as wide as width of as your arms. She pulls the covers over her head and screeches in horror. 

You laugh and weakly wrestle with her trying to pull the covers back down. “You wanna hear some more?” You say with a pause as you ask softly searching the covers for her a glimpse of her face. “Or do you wanna…” you continue but she cuts you off with a loud “yeaaaa” followed by an even louder yawn. 

“Ok well,” you say as you tuck her back into bed and stroke her hair a few times, “this slug gives off slime, or mucilage as it’s called, that’s so thick and gelatinous,” you pause noting how her eyes start to droop, “unctuous you might say,” you smile running your fingers slowly over her eyelids forcing them to close, “that it can slide down a razor blade and be unharmed” you finish your sentence reducing the volume of your voice as you reach your conclusion. You wait watching her to make sure she’s really gone to sleep. Once satisfied you whisper as you leave a kiss on her forehead, “good night sweet girl”.

Gently you ease yourself off the bed and creep towards the door. When you get close enough Natasha pushes the door open wider and your eyes shine when you see her standing there. 

“Hi” she says taking hold of the hand you offer her. 

“Hi baby. How long have you been standing there?” You smirk when she pulls you in for a chaste kiss to the lips. 

“Long enough to learn more than I’d want to about slugs” she smiles as you lock your fingers behind her neck holding her there. 

You groan and hide your face in the crook of her neck. “You must think I’m such a nerd,”

She chuckles into your hair. “It’s a good thing I find nerds kinda hot.”

You turn your head slightly and start to kiss her neck. “Mmm” you moan, “you smell good”.

“And you shouldn’t be doing that here” she answers bringing her lower lip in between her teeth holding back a moan of her own. 

You bite down on the supple flesh of her neck and she digs her nails into the backs of your forearms. 

“Sorry” you soothe the skin with your tongue. 

She laughs. “No you’re not.”

“No I’m not” you repeat her words and place a kiss to her hot flesh. 

“Let’s get out of here” she untangles herself from you and leads you away by the hand, “you can tell me more about your slugs”. 

You wrap her arm over your shoulder letting her lead you down an endless corridor past wood panelled doors. “Or I could just show you the biggest slug…” you say wriggling your eyebrows at her. 

She cuts you off with a kiss to the forehead before you are able to finish that sentence, “you’re really disgusting sometimes, you know that”.

-----

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[memphisnovels]

Evermore

Chapter 34. Me, a name I call myself

Previous chapter

Masterlist

This chapter is largely setting the scene for what is to come, brace yourselves <3

pairing: Pietro Maximoff x OFC

warnings: Some angst, canon-typical violence, forgiveness, Bucky Barnes needs a break

“I think perhaps it’s time we address what you remember about your time with Hydra.” Dr. Norris said.

“Haven’t we already done that?”

He flicked through his notebook until he found the page he was looking for, scanning his notes before glancing back at me. “We’ve been over it, but we never appropriately addressed one of the main breakthroughs we made… you said you remember the man in the lab coat telling you where you were born, the date, and your name. That suggests perhaps this was sort of the conditioning; sort of them removing who you were.”

I opened my mouth but closed it again soon after, unsure how to respond. Of course it had crossed my mind, but I’d never really allowed the thought to linger for long. His words sent me reeling, lost in my own thoughts. They threatened to overcome me, it felt like sitting in a vat of honey or molasses, swimming through it was fruitless but the more I wadded the more my limbs grew weary but the sticky, unyielding insanity promised to suffocate me if I sat in it too long. It was only a matter of time before I had to address the elephant in the room, the niggling thought that had lived at the back of my mind for months.

I didn’t know what it was that made this small piece of the puzzle feel especially daunting. Perhaps it was that this was the one thing left of me that hadn’t been up for debate. The one constant even when my mind was muddled and tampered with my name was still mine, even when everything else was stripped from me. “Okay,” I murmured, leaning back in my chair.

“Great. Let’s begin by going back to the room where you were kept for conditioning, then throughout our next sessions we’ll try to dig deeper into your memories from before.”

When I stepped out of the room it felt like my head was underwater, everything was a little distant and muffled. I felt the sun on my flesh as I passed the large floor-to-ceiling windows that lined the corridor, it kept me

“Nads, there you are!” Natasha’s voice pulled me from my reverie.

“Here I am.” I murmured in response. The moment she asked me what I had planned for tomorrow I realized why she was looking for me. “I am not going to Vienna for the United Nations meeting.” I crossed my arms over my chest, resolve evident across my features.

She sighed exasperatedly. “Come on, please!” I turned and began to walk away. “Why so stubborn? You always used to love playing diplomat with me.” She spoke, falling into step beside me.

I shot her an icy glance. “That was a long time ago. Plus, neither of us had a say in it back then, it was all just an assignment.”

Natasha moved to step in front of me, cutting off my path forward. The expression on my face did nothing to deter her. “I know you’d rather be literally anywhere else than in a room with a bunch of world leaders and politician-types, especially given how close to home this all is. Trust me, I understand that completely, but Steve is otherwise indisposed, and I don’t want to do this alone.” The softness in her gaze and the furrow of her brow dripped sincerity and she obviously knew exactly how to wear down my resistance. “Nadia, please. I need you to have my back in Vienna.”

I sighed heavily, giving her an unimpressed look. “You are very annoying, you know that.” A smile spread over her lips at my evident defeat in this matter. I rolled my eyes at the glee she did not even attempt to hide.

“So?”

Another sigh. “I’ve got your back.”

…

I could not believe I’d let her talk me into this. The reality dawned on me as I leaned back into the seat of the plane, watching out the window as the blueness of the sky, dappled by powdery white clouds surrounded us. I attempted to think of something other than the deliberations that awaited us in Vienna. Though, when my mind managed to stray from that, the thoughts were not preferable. Recollections of the white walls, the man telling me all the details of my life, Norris suggesting that everything I’ve known to be true about myself may actually just be a character that was created for me. So, I decided not to think about that either. That left only one other pressing thought.

Pietro had done as I’d asked, taking me to his room and unloading every moment of his communications with Hydra. I had anticipated that he’d be willing to unburden himself about everything he’d shared with them. What I hadn’t been expecting was for him to go into the back of his closet and dig through a torn leather satchel that was hidden at the back, procuring a thick manilla folder.

He placed it into my hands and dropped down beside me in the bed. I stared at it for a long moment, sick to death of seeing these damn folders, it seemed nothing good ever came out of them. Finally, I flipped it open to read through its contents.

“Most of it is just the stuff you already saw. There’s only one other.” I flipped through the pages until I reached the final one. He had taken notes about me after the shipyard it seemed, he’d just never sent them. At first, it was just a continuation of what I’d said and done in the shipyard, he wrote about overhearing me talking about the Graduation Ceremony after Wanda had manipulated my mind. Then it went into a few basic bites about the fight with Ultron on the train. ‘Nadia is persistent, and unyielding, even when fighting something physically enhanced, she keeps fighting. After every hit, she would stand back up and keep fighting’ It stopped there, halfway through a line as if he’d paused mid-thought. That was the last thing he’d written. I closed the folder, leaning forward on my knees slightly as I thought about everything I’d read. There was a part of me that felt freed by seeing it all firsthand, reading everything he’d written, airing the entirety of the secret. The other part of me was still held back by one small factor; he’d kept his notes. I knew it was likely not premeditated and it should really be meaningless, but for some reason, there was this nagging feeling in the back of my mind that wouldn’t let it go.

“In the Red Room they… sterilized us, removing our uterus was the final step to eliminating weakness and distraction. A reminder of what they had molded us for, the singular path we were given.” Pietro was completely silent as I spoke, barely even breathing. I turned my head to meet his eyes. “They called it the Graduation Ceremony.” He swallowed heavily as those two words passed my lips, eyes shutting tightly, and his head fell into his hands. I wasn’t sure why I’d told him that, why I needed him to know that. I threw the folder down onto the bed, moving to my feet. “That is what I saw when Wanda was in my head.”

“Nadia, I-”

“Do not apologize again, Pietro.” I took a deep breath, angered by how shaky my exhale felt. “Why did you stop there? Why not you send this too?”

His beautiful blue eyes were filled with tears when he lifted his head. Exhaustion was evident in the dark circles that surrounded them. He looked utterly defeated as he gazed at me. He shrugged weakly. “I guess things felt different then. When I agreed to send Hydra intel, I was filled with so much rage I didn’t know what to do with it. It nearly consumed me, the anger and hatred. I just wanted to hold someone accountable for all of our suffering. Back then, all I really knew about you was that you were an Avenger, it was easy to lump you into the blame I had for them. At first, anyway, but then I actually talked to you.” He swallowed heavily, looking down again. “In the shipyard, you said that you didn’t look at me because you did not want to hurt me, even after all the trouble Wanda and I had already caused. You kept your eyes closed when I could have hurt you, you made yourself vulnerable in front of me rather than risk harming me. That is who you are, Nadia, and I saw it in that moment. I tried to hold onto my resentment by writing another letter, but I couldn’t send it because I knew who you really were.” I thought of the day on the train, the feeling of the window cracking beneath my flesh as Ultron pinned me to the wall.  The pain of my head being jammed between his metal hand and the cool glass. I recalled the relief that rushed through my body when Pietro pulled him away. “You said you don’t hate me, but I would understand if you did.”

“That’s really pathetic.” It was mean and I only said it because I wanted him to stop looking so completely shattered because it was killing me. We had made a deal that I would stop lashing out to push him away but, in that moment, it was all I could do to hold onto my resolve. The worst part is the way my voice turned breathy and weak along the word pathetic, I couldn’t even stand by my own words; not when my eyes were stinging again and all I wanted was for things to go back to the way they were.

“I know.” He murmured, tears streaming down his cheeks. “And I don’t care. I don’t care how pathetic I sound when I’m begging you not to walk away over this stupid fucking mistake I made. I have never felt this way about any other person in my entire life, the thought of you leaving destroys me so no I don’t care if it’s pathetic I’ll do whatever you want me to. Just tell me what to do to make this better.”

I watched him cry before me, seemingly stuck to this spot on the floor. I racked my brain for the answer that felt right. What could he do to make this better? How could this be fixed. I thought just knowing everything would suddenly absolve it all but now I wasn’t sure it had. It was hard to know what would fix it or even if it could be fixed but then I considered the rest of what he’d said, and I couldn’t deny that the thought of walking away was the most excruciating of all. I didn’t know what the solution was, but I knew that I was incapable of leaving him like this, so I closed the distance between us and wiped his tears away with the back of my hand. My forehead fell to lean against his.

“You can’t ever lie to me like that again.”

I rubbed at my temples, urging the ache that had sat beneath my eye sockets for days to give me a moment's peace. At some point, I managed to fall asleep and after a fitful sleep filled with memories of Hydra and the pages of information Pietro had written about me, I awoke to the feeling of our plane touching down on the tarmac.

The air that tousled my hair was chilly but the warmth of the sun softened its icy caress. Water dripped leisurely from tree branches as the ice faded and made way for new growth. That night I lay atop one of the plush beds, watching Natasha as she dipped the tip of her index finger into a little round jar of face cream before smoothing it over her skin. “I can practically hear the gears turning in your head from how hard you’re thinking over there.” She met my eyes in the vanity mirror, prompting a sigh from me.

My eyes trailed upward to the ceiling as I attempted to gather my thoughts. “What do you really think about all of this? The Sokovia Accords.”

There was a long moment of silence before Natasha filled it. “Honestly, I’m not really sure.”

“Neither am I.” I looked back at her when I heard her turn around in the chair. “What you said back at the compound about keeping one hand on the wheel, I agree.”

“But?”

“But… Cap had a point too. Governments always have an agenda and if we sign the accords, we become subject to that. More than subject, we become an extension of it.” Her eyes fell shut for a moment before she reopened them and nodded. “What if they really do stop us from intervening somewhere we should? This doesn’t feel like unifying with the government, it feels like completely relinquishing control.”

She nodded again. “Or the opposite, we’re forced to intervene where we shouldn’t.”

“And then there’s that,” I muttered, looking down at my hands. “All of it just feels…”

“Familiar?” When our eyes met, I knew that we were having the same thought. “But maybe our history is where most of the trepidation is coming from. Maybe things will be different. I mean you and I both agree that things have been a little out of control lately.”

Her words did little to soothe me, though I nodded, nonetheless. “Maybe.”

“Let’s just get through the signing tomorrow and get a little outside perspective, then go from there. Staying together is more important than how we stay together, right.”

I hummed, leaning back against the plush pillows lining the head of the bed. The sound of my nails tapping against the wooden side table was the only sound now. My head was beginning to ache with the incessant thoughts rattling around. Natasha’s eyes still lingered on me, evidently sensing that the accords were not the only thing on my mind. “Do you remember the day we met? We were locked in a shipping container, and you asked me where I was from, what did I say?”

“Yeah, of course, you told me you were from St. Petersburg.”

“How do you remember it easily?”

She shrugged. “Well, not many of us knew where we’d come from so it's not like I had a lot of birthplaces to keep track of.”

“Right, but I knew where I’d come from.” I continued to drum my fingers across the side table. “You asked me again in Portugal, you were just trying to keep me from passing out so you could finish removing the bullet from my leg, but you asked me where I was from again and I couldn’t remember.” One final click of my nail against the wood sounded through the room before I stopped, sitting up again to face Nat. “Why would I have remembered the first time but not the second?”

“Portugal was years later, maybe you’d just forgotten as you got older?”

I shook my head. “But I remembered again after that. I believed that I was from St. Petersburg every day up until now.”

“You don’t believe that anymore?”

“I don’t know what I believe.”

The sky was completely grey overhead the next day, almost forebodingly ominous as Natasha and I entered the conference center for the UN meeting. I fiddled with the sleeve of my blazer; palms sweating profusely. This was certainly not the first time we’d played this role, Natasha was right when she said I’d once found moonlighting as a foreign diplomat enticing but this felt completely different because the outcome of today would shape the future of the Avengers. Even with so much on the line, it still felt like yet another role I had to play.

“It’s going to be fine; you’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours, we’re just here to listen and sign some papers.”

I nodded at her, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear to busy my hands. When a blonde woman approached asking for some signatures prior to the commencement of the conference I shared a brief look with Natasha, offering to take care of it. Really, I just wanted something to busy my mind with, fearing that idle hands would only worsen my twitching.

After I’d signed what seemed liked a hundred different documents all just regarding legitimacy and confidentiality a voice sounded over the P.A. system announcing the beginning of the meeting. I found Natasha speaking to King T’Chaka and Prince T’Challa of Wakanda when I returned. Both men offered me a kind smile and respectful greeting as I approached. I returned the favor, mustering a few gentle words of introduction before following Natasha to our seats.

It was King T’Chaka who spoke first at the conference. “When stolen Wakandan vibranium was used to make a terrible weapon, we in Wakanda were forced to question our legacy. Those men and women killed in Nigeria were part of a good-willed mission from a country too long in the shadows. We will not, however, let misfortune drive us back. We will fight to improve the world we wish to join. I am grateful to the Avengers for supporting this initiative.” I swallowed heavily, looking down at the table before me, this was the right thing to do, I reminded myself of it over and over. My nails dug into the skin of my palm as he continued, his points sounding genuine, infallible. My eyes trailed over to his son who glanced over his shoulder out the floor-to-ceiling windows lining the wall behind him. I narrowed my eyes at him as I saw his own twitch slightly, something outside had clearly drawn his attention. “Wakanda is proud to extend its hand in peace-”

The king had barely gotten the words out before his son came running toward him, shouting for everyone to get down. I grabbed the woman beside me, pulling her under the table with me as Natasha did the same. The crack of the explosion was rivaled only by the sound of glass shattering and smoke billowing. Where there had been the detonation of sound and light there was now nothing at all as unconsciousness lured me into its embrace.

When my eyes opened once more it was with a gasp followed by an abrupt cough as smoke filled my lungs. Flames licked at every surface they could reach, and ashen debris fell all around. My eyes were blurry, my ears ringing as I surveyed the room. Natasha grabbed a hold of my hand; I could see her mouth moving but it was all muffled. The area was surrounded by police and reporters by the time we stumbled out toward a bench, gasping into the fresh air. King T’Chaka was dead and so were 12 other people. Sirens filled the air as the range of different authorities cordoned off the area.

“Can you hear me now?” Natasha asked. The ringing was still there but much less prevalent now as I swiveled to face her on the bench.

I nodded. “Are you okay?”

“I’ve been better.” She murmured, to which I quickly agreed.

“What the fuck just happened?”

She rubbed at the soot smeared across her cheek. “They think it was the Winter Soldier, say he planted a bomb.”

I closed my eyes tightly, scrubbing a hand over my face.

It wasn’t long before T’Challa collapsed onto the bench beside ours. He faced forward, shoulders drooping, eyes haunted. I sat a little more upright, fighting the dizziness making my head spin. “I’m very sorry for your loss,” I spoke to him, watching as he fiddled with a silver ring with intricate carvings. He looked at me for only a split second before looking forward again.

“In my culture, death is not the end. It’s more of a stepping-off point. You reach out with both hands and Bast and Sekhmet, they lead you into the green veldt where you can run forever.”

I nodded, taking a moment to process his words. “That sounds very peaceful.”

“My father thought so.” He slipped the ring onto his own finger as he spoke and I could see the shift in his eyes, the pure agony thinly veiled by rage. “I am not my father.”

“T’Challa, the task force will decide who brings in Barnes.”

He stood abruptly. “Don’t bother, Ms Pimenova, I’ll kill him myself.” He was walking away before I could dissuade him further and the lingering headache was rearing its head in an especially painful way now. I rubbed at my temples, attempting to soothe the pain. Natasha calling my name brought my attention back. She held her phone between us, answering and putting it on speaker.

“Are you both alright?” Cap asked.

“Yeah, thanks, we were lucky,” Nat responded, the sound of an ambulance echoing over the speaker just as one raced by had us sharing a conspiratorial look.

I shook my head, returning to massaging my temples. “We know how much Barnes means to you, Steve. We do, but you’re only going to make this worse for all of us.”

“Are you saying you’ll arrest me?”

Natasha spoke up then. “No… but someone will. If you interfere, that’s how it works now.

“If he’s this far gone then I should be the one to bring him in.”

There was no persuading him, that much was obvious from the tone of his voice. I rolled my neck, bones clicking with each movement. The buzzing of my phone distracted me from Natasha reasoning attempts at reasoning with Steve. When I managed to slide it from my pocket, I was surprised to see only one small crack across the corner of the glass rather than an array across the screen. The phone lit up to reveal a full voicemail and dozens of missed calls, Pietro claiming the majority of it. I tilted it toward Nat so she could see what I was doing before I clicked the familiar contact ID, standing from the bench to wander out of earshot.

“I’m okay,” I said the moment the line connected.

Pietro’s exhale was so heavy through the phone I could almost feel the whisper of his breath over my skin. “Jesus, Nadia, is it too much to ask that you go a few months without almost getting killed?”

“Well, now that sounds an awful lot like victim blaming.”

“You’re not funny.”

I ran a hand through my hair, shaking loose a few pieces of debris. “Not even a little?”

There was a beat of silence between us. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m really alright, I promise, a little sore but nothing to worry about.”

He said okay. “Just… call me later, please, just to keep me in the loop.”

I couldn’t fight the way my lips tugged upwards at his words. Even from thousands of miles away, the sincerity of his voice felt like a warm embrace. He took a deep breath, signaling that he was preparing to hang up. “Pietro,” I spoke suddenly, my mouth moving almost before my mind had time to catch up.

“Nadia.” He murmured.

“I miss you. Thank you for calling.” There was a moment of silence before he echoed my sentiment. “I’ll talk to you later.”

The moment of basking was short-lived as Natasha appeared before me, a grave expression across her features. I made a sound of frustration. “You take T’Challa, I’ll handle Cap?” She nodded at me.

“Let’s see if we can’t clean up this mess.”

…

Steve Rogers was not nearly as stealthy as he thought he was, though perhaps that was an unfair critique given that this type of work was my forte. I tracked him to the café with little trouble, watching as Sharon slid a file across the bench in an act of defiance that could most definitely get her fired. The moment she’d departed I slipped through the small crowd and sidled up beside Sam.

“You know for someone whose whole brand is basically being a stickler for the rules, you sure seem comfortable bending them,” I spoke, propping my chin up on my fist atop the counter. Sam flinched hard, whipping around to face me.

“Where the hell did you come from?”

I merely rose an eyebrow at him, as if to say ‘really?’ before turning my gaze to Steve who adjusted the cap on his head with a sigh that was brimming with exasperation. “Don’t try to talk me out of it, Nadia.”

“What exactly is the plan here? Walk in and ask politely for Barnes to surrender. Because, no offense, Cap, but that is a really stupid idea. Almost as stupid as this disguise. Seriously, baseball cap and sunglasses? You look suspicious as shit; you’d be more under the radar in that ridiculous blue super suit of yours.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, setting his jaw as he listened, Sam choosing not to engage, though I saw the upward twitch of his lips. “Are you done?” I shrugged, choosing to swallow the last few taunts about his disguise, not the time. “I know you don’t trust him. You have every right to feel that way, but you said that you understand what he means to me. So don’t try to stand in my way, because it isn’t going to work.”

“I know.” My words gave him pause, mouth slightly open still, as if on the brink of repeating himself. “At no point on the way over here was I expecting to change your mind on this. Your plan of action here is undoubtedly flawed and I seriously think you should rethink your disguises in the future but that doesn’t mean I’m letting you walk into Barnes’ den alone.”

Sam scoffed. “What am I? Chopped liver?”

I tsked. “You’ll be busy keeping an eye out from above little birdy.” I taunted before looking back at Cap. “I know I can’t talk you out of going, just like you can’t talk me out of having your back.”

He still tried, though his attempts were half-hearted, resigned to my determination. Or perhaps he really believed that Barnes had changed, I knew that was a large part of why he was so committed to this, he couldn’t let go of the man he knew, he needed to see it for himself once and for all. That wouldn’t be an easy pill to swallow, this was part of why I was so set on accompanying him. If things went south or he found himself unable to let go, I’d have no qualms intervening.

As I’d suspected, his plan was incredibly underdeveloped, relying mostly on the goodness of Barnes’ heart. Yet, I followed Steve into the decrepit apartment, nonetheless. The wallpaper was stained and peeling at the corners, and the windows were mostly boarded up or covered by cardboard and newspaper. It was a mess, with various empty food containers and newspapers strewn about. I pushed a pile of paper aside with my foot before glancing up at Steve. “Nice digs,” I muttered. The creak of the floorboards signaling a new presence had me whipping around, spine straightening immediately. He was unkempt, his hair grown out and stubble covering his jaw, but I knew him the moment I saw him. I leaned onto my back foot, taking half a step back.

He seemed different, less icy super soldier, more twitchy; uneasy. As small and troubled as he appeared, I still felt the hair on my arms stand. His blue-gray eyes had been set on me from the moment he entered. “Do you know me?” Steve asked.

Barnes nodded, eyes momentarily shifting to the blond man in his blue, red, and white armor. The freedom from his gaze was short-lived as he looked at me again.

He swallowed heavily, he was like a cornered animal, waiting for attack. I wondered if it was Steve he was afraid of. Or perhaps his impending arrest. Maybe it was me. I was certainly frightened of him. I stood tall, nerves strung tightly but my heart was thumping quickly in my chest and my palms were sweating. “Do you remember me?” He nodded again, eyes casting downward now. “What, don’t you speak anymore?” I managed.

“I know both of you.” He even sounded different. Less gruff, no harsh words spat in Russian. “I read about you at the museum.” He gestured toward Steve then. I knew that must have stung, they’d been friends, it couldn’t have been easy to not be remembered by someone he cared so dearly for; someone he’d risk his reputation and life for. “And we were in the Red Room together.” He nodded toward me.

“Oh, we were in the Red Room, were we?” I raised an eyebrow at him, fear being momentarily side-stepped by rage.

He looked down at his feet, Adams apple bobbing heavily and when he looked back up, he only met my gaze for a split second before looking away. His expression was difficult to read. I thought maybe it was remorse, but that seemed bizarre to me. “I trained you… in the Red Room.” He forced out. I was taken aback by the strain in his voice, I’d never heard him sound so weak. With narrowed eyes, I surveyed him, unconvinced by this shift. My mind urged me to pay attention, wait for a crack in his façade, he could not maintain this cover forever, I’d see through it. Yet, another part of me wondered if this wounded, fearful air was not some kind of ruse. It was not just remorse that I’d heard in his voice but disdain. I’d heard this tone from him before, the discontent, but back then it had been directed at me.

I ducked under the metal arm that struck out in my direction, knee scuffing over the mat as I swerved around his body, grabbing ahold of his upper arm and using it as leverage to swing my legs up and lock them around his upper torso, arms swiftly encircling his neck to put him into a chokehold. I held tight even when he threw himself backward, slamming me into the wall, I gritted my teeth and tightened my grip, body bruised and aching from the exhaustion of attempting to hold my own against someone so much larger than me. He brought his metal elbow back, whirring ringing through the room as he jammed it into my ribs so hard I cried out, losing my grip from the sudden rush of pain combined with my back colliding against the wall yet again. I fell to the mat, gripping my side but forcing myself back to my feet before he won. I kicked him in the back of the knee, but it was fruitless. He swiveled around to grab me once again, cool metal over my forehead as he yanked my head back so his free arm could wrap around my throat. The lack of air had me light-headed, tears were streaming down my cheeks, and I thrashed in his hold but at 12 years old I was no match for a military-trained super soldier. I tapped when my vision started to become spattered with black spots, the air that shot into my lungs when he freed me had me coughing uncontrollably. I rolled over on the ground to hide my tear-stained face against the mat and attempt to settle my gasping.

“Ты слаб. Такое разочарование.”

You are weak. Such a disappointment.

I walked toward one of the covered windows, peering through the crevice between the newspaper where light managed to peek through. The task force was closing in around the building, and I suspected there were people making their way to the roof as well. I could vaguely hear Steve speaking about the river and their shared past, imploring the man before him to remember, or at least to believe him. I knew Sam was in his ear, keeping him updated on the movements of the police force around us. When his eyes met mine, I knew our time was up.

“Sam’s compromised, go now.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. “What the hell are you two going to do?”

Steve looked towards Barnes who seemed resigned to punching his way out. “This doesn’t have to be a fight.”

Barnes sighed, pulling the black glove from his metal hand. “It always ends in a fight.”

“Steve, this is unbelievably stupid!”

“I know, that’s why I’m not going to drag you any further into this. Go, Nadia!” He shoved me toward the door but before I could even reach for the handle glass shattered all around as the windows were breached. The door burst open at the same moment seeing several armed agents enter, I wasn’t really certain what the correct course of action was here, I had been prepared for a potential fight with the Winter Soldier, but fighting to avoid arrest for harboring a fugitive wasn’t exactly on my bingo card. As it turned out, I didn’t need to decide right now because the refrigerator was sent pummeling through the doorway, knocking down or blocking the entrance of the line of agents beelining for me. I glanced back to see Barnes already looking at me, his expression unreadable and momentary as he turned to grab his go bag from the floor. Him ever intentionally helping me was a baffling notion but right now I wasn’t in the position to dwell, instead I slipped by the fridge, moving quickly toward down the hall that led away from the stairs. When I reached the end of the hallway I slipped around the corner, pressing myself to the wall to watch as more agents ran by, heading for the destroyed apartment.

It was mildly difficult and exceptionally tedious to get out of the apartment building unscathed. But it was made much easier by the tunnel-vision officers, hunting Barnes. It wasn’t until I was halfway down the street that I realized they would now be hunting Steve as well.

[monstersinthecosmos]

okay I think we should take inventory of what we learned about Marius's house.

In fact, the impression was one of comfortable messiness.

(i think the tiktok kids started calling ADHD clutter clustering or something LMAO marius de romanus cluster girlie i guess. thanks i hate it)

Here's some stuff that Marius had on his island!!!!!!!

stone benches

a lighted oil lamp on a stand

a pair of heavy wooden doors

a sarcophagus with a plain lid, cleanly fashioned out of diorite

The lid plated in iron and contained

a golden mask, its features carefully molded, attached to a hood made up of layered plates of hammered gold.

a pair of leather gloves covered completely in tinier more delicate gold plates like scales.

a large folded blanket of the softest red wool with one side sewn with larger gold plates

Magnificent Grecian urns on pedestals in the corridors

great bronze statues from the Orient

exquisite plants at every window and terrace open to the sky.

Gorgeous rugs from India, Persia, China c

giant stuffed beasts mounted in lifelike attitudes-

--the brown bear,

--the lion,

--the tiger,

--even the elephant standing in his own immense chamber,

--lizards as big as dragons,

--birds of prey clutching dried branches made to look like the limbs of real trees.

brilliantly colored murals covering every surface from floor to ceiling

a dark vibrant painting of the sunburnt Arabian desert complete with an exquisitely detailed caravan of camels and turbaned merchants moving over the sand

a jungle warming with delicately rendered tropical blossoms, vines, carefully drawn leaves

creatures everywhere in the texture of the jungle-

--insects,

--birds,

--worms in the soil-

too many monkeys in the jungle,

too many bugs crawling on the leaves.

thousands of tiny insects in one painting of a summer sky.

a large gallery walled on either side by painted men and women staring at me

Figures from all ages these were-

--bedouins,

--Egyptians,

--Greeks and Romans,

--knights in armor,

--peasants

--kings

--queens.

--Renaissance people in doublets and leggings,

--the Sun King with his massive mane of curls,

--people of our own age.

droplets of water clinging to a cape,

the cut on the side of a face,

the spider half-crushed beneath a polished leather boot.

a library, blazing with light.

Walls and walls of books and

rolled manuscripts,

giant glistening world globes in their wooden cradles,

busts of the ancient Greek gods and goddesses,

great sprawling maps.

Newspapers in all languages lay in stacks on tables.

Fossils,

mummified hands,

exotic shells.

bouquets of dried flowers,

figurines and fragments of old sculpture,

alabaster jars covered with Egyptian hieroglyphs.

comfortable chairs with footstools,

candelabra or oil lamps.

a forest of cages.

birds of all sizes and colors

monkeys

baboons,

Potted plants crowded against the cages-

--ferns and

--banana trees,

--cabbage roses,

--moonflower,

--jasmine,

--other sweetly fragrant nighttime vines.

purple and white orchids,

waxed flowers that trapped insects in their maw,

little trees groaning with peaches and lemons and pears.

a hall of sculptures equal to any gallery in the Vatican museum.

adjoining chambers full of paintings,

Oriental furnishings,

mechanical toys.

fine rosewood paneling with framed mirrors rising to the ceiling.

painted chests,

upholstered chairs,

dark and lush landscapes,

porcelain clocks.

A small collection of books in the glass-doored bookcases,

a newspaper of recent date lying on a small table beside a brocaded winged chair.

the stone terrace. where banks of white lilies and red roses gave off their powerful perfume.

a pair of winged chairs that faced each other

a dozen or so candelabra and sconces on the paneled walls.

brocade cushions

[iaminyourdreamssz]

they don't return your feelings...

A/N: So this is going to be a little bit bad bc of my bad writting. I hope you guys enjoy and request all you want!

(kirishima, deku, and bakugou... seperated ofc)

Warnings: Angst thats it

Bakugou Katsuki:

I stared at him dumbfounded after he sat down, and offered me his hand. He's never been a fan of affection, nor never really hugged me. I mean I don't think a guy with a personality like his will ever do such things. I grabbed his hand and sat down beside him.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" He questioned, not meeting my eyes and looking up at the sky.

"It surprised me when you wanted to grab my hand." I laughed awkwardly.

He didn't respond, but he got closer to me. Then i have to spoil it all by saying something stupid like--

"i love you."

"what?" He looked at me like I was crazy.. I'm not crazy. Why aren't you saying that you love me? What is wrong with you!? It's not my fault if he doesn't like me back right?

He doesn't have taste. I'm not the pathetic one.

I couldn't stop thinking about these same thoughts for days after he said

"I don't love you. I have to focus on myself, and if you are just here to slow me down then... we should not talk anymore" He got up and then started walking away.

I'm not pathetic...

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

Izuku Midoriya:

I didn't understand what was going on in our class. I asked Midoriya if he could explain the topic. He said yes and told me to meet him in his room after dinner. Just hearing him say that made me skip a beat. I always wanted to be alone with Izu. It's just he's always with his friends or training somewhere. I walked towards his bedroom door after I stuffed my belly with some ramen and rice. I knew I wasn't going to concentrate that easy. He makes me so nervous. I knock on his door and wait for him to answer. "Oh! uh! in a sec!"

a girl voice..

that was not Izuku's voice.

The door opens to reveal a flustered Izuku. I looked over his shoulder and saw Ururaka behind him even redder than he was. It clicked almost immediately. He never liked me... He loved her. Why am I still standing here like an idiot?

"So sorry! I think i should go" I spat out.

I walked away fast. I didn't want him to see my face.

I didn't want him to see my tears. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Ejiro Kirishima:

Eijiro Kirishima was a force to be reckoned with – his fiery spirit matched only by the unyielding hardness of his quirk. But despite his formidable presence, there was one thing that eluded him: matters of the heart.

As he navigated the bustling corridors of U.A. High School, Kirishima couldn't help but notice the lingering stares and shy smiles directed his way. Among those admirers was Y/N, a fellow student whose affection for him burned brighter than the sun.

Yet, try as he might, Kirishima couldn't find it within himself to return Y/N's feelings. It wasn't that he didn't appreciate their friendship or value their presence in his life – far from it. But when it came to matters of romance, Kirishima found himself at a loss, unable to reciprocate the emotions that Y/N so openly displayed.

It was a source of constant guilt and discomfort for Kirishima, who struggled to find the words to convey his true feelings without hurting Y/N in the process. He knew that he couldn't continue to ignore the elephant in the room, but the thought of confronting Y/N about his lack of romantic interest filled him with a sense of dread.

As he settled into his seat for another day of classes, Kirishima couldn't shake the feeling of unease that lingered within him. He stole a glance in Y/N's direction, their eyes meeting briefly before Y/N quickly averted their gaze, a faint blush creeping up their cheeks.

Kirishima's heart sank at the sight, knowing that he was the cause of Y/N's discomfort. He wanted nothing more than to ease their worries and reassure them that their friendship meant the world to him. But try as he might, he couldn't bring himself to say the words that he knew would break Y/N's heart.

As the day wore on, Kirishima found himself retreating further into himself, the weight of his unspoken feelings pressing down on him like a leaden blanket. He knew that he couldn't continue to ignore the situation, that he owed it to Y/N to be honest about his emotions – or lack thereof.

But as the final bell rang and he made his way out of the classroom, Kirishima couldn't shake the feeling of dread that gripped him. He knew that the conversation he had been dreading was inevitable, and that no amount of avoidance could change the painful truth that lay between him and Y/N.

And so, with a heavy heart and a mind full of turmoil, Kirishima steel himself for the confrontation that awaited him, knowing that the bonds of friendship would be tested like never before.

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

A/N: i wonder who is my fav

[ramsywasalittlelamb]

when i feel cold, you warm me

An agere batfam fic! Regressor’s: Dick, Jason, Tim, Steph, Cass, Duke, and Damian! Caregiver’s: Bruce and Alfred <3 Pure fluff!! 1.2k words photos found on pinterest!

No warnings!!

I meant to write a Halloween fic this year and then ended up becoming too busy, so here’s my Christmas one!

admittedly I don’t think most, if any, of the batfam members celebrate Christmas, BUT. I still think people give presents to each other regardless, just because the season of giving :3 enjoy!!

title from Sara Smile - Daryl Hall & John Oates

As Dick woke up groggily, something pinged in his mind, making him open his eyes to look at the clock.

5:58AM blinks on his bedside alarm clock in red, bold lights.

His face lights up with a huge smile, suddenly feeling giddy as he looks outside his bedroom window to see all the snow that’s built up overnight, the sun not even making a tiniest hint of appearing yet.

Bruce told him and the others that they’d open their presents together when everyone was awake, but that takes so long. Especially with Tim! He slept for 14 hours straight one time!

He throws the covers off his body in a haste, grabbing his beloved elephant plush from beside his pillow, and begins his mission to go downstairs and peek at a few gifts before Bruce and Alfred wake up.

Opening the door slowly, the hinges creak resonates throughout the hallway, making Dick flinch before looking around for a sign of someone waking up.

Empty. Perfect.

He sneaks halfway through the corridor on tiptoes before he sees a door opening, his gaze meets familiar eyes, panic coursing through his veins as they both freeze in their spots.

“Duke?” Dick whisper-yells, inching closer to Duke who admittedly looks like he’s near tears. “What's wrong?” He says, placing a hand on Duke’s arm in an attempt to comfort him.

“Thought you were Alfie or Bruce.” Duke murmurs, his arms wrapping Dick’s arm in a hug and squishing his cheek against the side of Dick’s shoulder.

“Uh-uh, just me!” Dick reassures, a bright smile on his face as he leans his cheek to rest on top of Duke’s head, who hums at the touch.

A creak in the floorboards behind them, making them both jump and flip around, turning to see Jason staring at them with tired eyes, his cat stuffie held in his fidgeting hands.

“What are you guys doin’?” He murmurs behind his pacifier, shuffling over to the other two regressors and tilting his head to rest it on top of Dick’s shoulder, half asleep while standing.

“Nothin’.” Duke and Dick say at the same time, glancing between each other before back at Jason, whose eyebrows are knit together in confusion.

“Was going downstairs to…” Dick pauses, debating if he should tell of his plan, but then he remembers this is Jason he’s talking to. Jason always helps him with his plans! “To look at the gifts!” He says, a toothy grin plastered on his face as he looks at Jason. He can feel Duke nodding against his arm, great minds think alike.

Jason rubs a loose fist at his sleepy eyes before nodding with a yawn, grabbing Dick’s hand to trail along with the two on their mission. More the merrier!

The three of them tread their way to the stairs, avoiding all the squeaky floorboards as they carefully inch their way down each step. Dick turns to congratulate his younger siblings, but jumps back at two new pairs of eyes staring at him with unintentional intimidation.

“You two scared me!” Dick pouts at Cass and Damian, who are hand in hand with one another. Cass holding her big bird plush in her other hand, meanwhile Dami’s other hand holds a German Shepherd plush.

Cass smiles as Damian tucks himself behind her, who silently follows along with the other three towards the living room. Dick is ecstatic at his growing number of super secret agents on his mission.

That is, until Jason tugs at the hem of Dick’s sleeve, pausing all of them in their steps.

“Dickie, ‘m thirsty.” He grumbles, his half open eyes peering slightly down at him as his lips form a pout. Dick can’t deny his baby brother something so simple!

“Let’s go to the kitchen first!” Dick says, tugging his siblings along with him towards the said room. Once they reach it, three of them stay just outside to not crowd the area, Duke entering a quiet conversation with Cass about Sesame Street, Damian watching and listening intently.

Dick begins choosing a drink for Jason, while Jason picks out a cup. The younger one ended up choosing a miffy sippy cup, placing it in front of Dick who pours out apple juice into the sippy. A smile makes its way onto Dick’s face as he remembers Bruce informing him of a super special secret, that the apple juice was actually half water and half apple juice. And he was the only one to know! Being older has its privileges sometimes.

Jason hums with content as he takes the sippy cup, drinking it in slow gulps as he tucks his plush in his elbow, waving to someone before taking Dick’s hand— wait, waving?

Dick looks to where Jason had waved and spots Steph standing there with a mischievous smile, going up to Jason and hugging him, turning to look at Dick whilst still holding him. “What are we doin’?” She says quietly, Dick returning the smile as he informs her of their mission. She accepts.

Dick cheers for himself, he has everyone!

Wait.

“Tim!” He gasps out quietly, looking at Steph who forms an ‘O’ with her mouth, before quickly nodding along in understanding. “You get Timmy, I’ll get the others in the big room!” She says, taking Jason’s hand from Dick’s. He watches as she informs the others of the plan, leading them towards the living room.

Okay, get Timmy. He can do that.

He creeps his way back upstairs as fast yet quietly as he can, inching himself into the small slit of the nursery door, quickly finding Tim who’s sound asleep.

Dick leans over the crib, peering down at Tim to see if he’d wake on his own, but after what felt like hours— it was truly seconds,— he pokes a finger at Tim’s cheek.

He snuffles, but doesn’t wake.

Poke.

Tim’s face scrunches up, blinking rapidly with a pout at being woken up, though immediately reaches up to Dick with sleepy babbles spilling from his mouth.

Oh! He needs his paci! Dick pops the pacifier that was hooked onto a clip into Tim’s mouth before lifting him out of the crib, placing him on his hip like he’s seen Bruce do tons of times before!

He shushes Tim when he begins babbling about seeing Bruce, making sure the baby was quiet as he trudged outside the nursery with silent steps, taking extra caution down the staircase with Timmy in his arms.

He makes their way into the living room, placing Tim on the floor next to where Steph and Cass sit, the two beginning to entertain the baby.

Dick shifts on his feet with excitement, hands shaking out in front of him as he shakes his head.

His plan worked! They’re gonna be able to peek at their presents!

Someone’s throat clearing authoritatively breaks him out of his joyful moment, twisting his body to see Bruce and Alfred looking at them with an unreadable expression.

Dick shrinks in on himself, suddenly feeling very bad about his mission that he dragged his siblings along. His plan definitely failed now. He got himself and his siblings in trouble!

His eyes watch between the two as Alfred’s unimpressed face morphs into a warm hearted smile, the one he gives when he’s proud or fond of something one of them did.

Bruce is next, not even trying to hide his adoring smile as he looks at Dick.

“I see someone had an early morning.” He chuckles out, moving past the couch to ruffle Dick’s hair, pressing a kiss to his forehead before beginning to chat with some of the other kids.

Maybe his plan didn’t fail after all!