#praying to god this shit doesn’t break the goddamn fandom

[itshungreysuzuki]

I am in danger of giving up on Febuwhump.

But does anyone fancy a Omori AU about civil war, with enough angst to compensate?

AU Name: I don’t know yet. Will receive blog later

What it’s about: Stranger is pissed that Sunny hasn’t faced the truth. In a last ditch effort, he offers Mari an basil mortality-free tour of Blackspace, to hopefully trigger canon events. Omori, being his usually baby bitch-boy self, then gets a surprise visit from Stranger, who (example of me throwing in fanon headspace lore) actually used to have the role of Omori before Sunny created him. The Little Baby Bitch-(Omori)Boy™️ then uses an old threat, aaand effectively declaring war. The entire work was 120 chapters, theoretically between 240,000 - 360,000 words.

I found drabbles in a sketchbook, school notes, and 15% of a sketchbook solely summarizing the entire plot, and background information.

What it is in a nutshell:

Sunny absentmindedly acting out the entirety of All Quiet On The Western Front in his head.

But for me, the writer:

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 322: IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME

Previously on BnHA: Endeavor was all, “Kirishima please take Hagakure and Aoyama and put them away somewhere out of sight until we’re finally ready for the U.A. Traitor Plot.” Shouto was all “HEY DEKU DID IT EVER OCCUR TO YOU THAT MAYBE YOU WANDERING THE STREETS LOOKING LIKE A GOTH PRAYING MANTIS IS EXACTLY WHAT AFO WANTS.” Deku was all “I’M SORRY I CAN’T HEAR YOU OVER THE SOUND OF MY CRUSHING MARTYR COMPLEX AND ACCUMULATED TRAUMA.” Mineta was all “HEY DEKU YOU SWEET THANG, IF I COULD REARRANGE THE ALPHABET I’D PUT ‘U’ AND ‘I’ TOGETHER, ANYWAYS HMU 💖”, or at least that’s what fandom apparently thought he said. Everyone was all “WELL SINCE WE’RE BACK HERE IN KAMINO WE SHOULD DO THE THING” and did the whole “launching someone into the air to save someone by dramatically grabbing their hand” thing that everybody fucking loves to do in Kamino so damn much. Iida was all “[bombards me and Deku with feels].” Deku was all, “ू(ʚ̴̶̷́ .̠ ʚ̴̶̷̥̀ ू).” I was all, “(;*△*;).” Horikoshi was all, “my work here is done.”

Today on BnHA: 

oh my god.

so I finally went back to look at what I wrote up for 321 last week, and it’s a hot fucking mess lol, and I really don’t want to deal with that right now, so we’re just gonna skip it and go back sometime in the next few days or something because I really want to read the new chapter and I have no self control. I’M SORRY IIDA

oh my god he’s breaking out the narration word bubbles oh my god. shit is about to get epic isn’t it

has there ever been a chapter that opened with these that WASN’T epic? serious question. anyways all aboard the Feels Express I guess

YEP

I saved a bunch of other crying kaomojis when I was looking for ones to use in the “previously on” summary, and right now it’s looking like that was a good fucking decision you guys. if I’m going to be an emotional wreck I might as well do it in style ʕ ಡ ﹏ ಡ ʔ

AND BY THE WAY!!

SHOULD I JUST THANK HORIKOSHI NOW AND SAVE MYSELF SOME TIME LATER. THE MAN ALWAYS FUCKING DELIVERS WHAT ELSE CAN I FUCKING SAY GODDAMN. IS IT TOO EARLY TO DECLARE THIS MY NEW FAVORITE CHAPTER? I SHOULD PROBABLY READ FURTHER THAN ONE PAGE BUT I’VE JUST GOT A FEELING

(ETA: it’s like. maybe my second favorite lol. A HUG WOULD HAVE PUT IT IN FIRST, I’M JUST SAYING.)

anyway so Ochako is releasing Iida, which is actually hilarious, because idk if you all know this but Iida can’t fucking fly you guys

like, I assume Ochako released him because she already knew that Kirishima was in place to catch him, but I really love this split-second of panic on Iida’s part where he’s all “HMM, IS OCHAKO TRYING TO KILL ME, ACTUALLY”

LOL THERE’S A THOOM AND EVERYTHING

that’s some plus fucking ultra on Ochako’s part right there. “IF THEY DIE THEY DIE” goddamn girl did you leave your chill in the same locker as Momo or what

now poor Kiri is all “DAMMIT DEKU ARE YOU PASSED OUT OR WHAT, I DIDN’T GET TO TELL YOU MY THING GODDAMMIT”

oh my gosh he is curled up so small you guys oh my fucking lord

RESIDUAL “LOST CHILD” FEELS FROM LAST WEEK COMING IN FOR A LANDING!! PLEASE MAKE SURE YOUR SEATBACKS AND TRAY TABLES ARE IN THEIR UPRIGHT POSITIONS OMG ( ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ ₍₎ ˚͈͈͈͈̥̆ )

LMAO IIDA IS TRYING TO CONFIRM THAT OCHAKO PLANNED FOR KIRISHIMA TO CATCH HIM, AND KIRISHIMA IS ALL “NOPE I’M JUST HERE BY CHANCE BRO”

Ochako is the U.A. Traitor confirmed. Hagakure I am so sorry I doubted you. Ochako get over here. so are you Toga now or what

anyway so now everyone is running over before Iida can react to this casual announcement of his attempted murder. and now Mina is taking her turn, and Horikoshi is all “HEY BTW IS MINA CRYING ON THE LIST OF THINGS THAT MAKE YOU CRY?” and of fucking course it is, you bastard. I’m not made of stone

( ɵ̥̥ ˑ̫ ɵ̥̥)

SLDKFJLSDKJ:LKWEJ

IS THIS THE PART WHERE I JUST START SCREAMING INCOHERENTLY FOR THE REST OF THE CHAPTER LOL. SURE FEELS LIKE WE ARE GETTING TO THAT TIME

OH MY GOD KACCHAN AHHHHH

I CAN’T OMG LOL I ALREADY GLANCED AT THE NEXT COUPLE OF PANELS, AND HE’S STARTING A WHOLEASS MONOLOGUE ABOUT ALL OF HIS DEKU FEELS AND OH MY GOD

“HERE YOU GO MAKESTE, A WHOLE CHAPTER OF ALL YOUR FAVORITE META TOPICS JUST THE WAY YOU LIKE THEM” THANK YOU HORIKOSHI YOU’RE A BRO (っ˘̩╭��˘̩)っ

SLKASODIFALWKFLKJ

THEY’RE JUST DEKU AND KACCHAN. holy shit you guys. because oh my god, but it’s like when Deku was talking to the Vestiges about saving Tomura, and he turned into his little child self because his heart and intentions were so pure?? and it’s like that again, except that we’re seeing them as their child selves because that’s who they are to each other?? like, not that they actually see each other as children, but just, they can see past all of the stuff on the outside and see each other to their cores, to who they are inside, and when they look at each other they each simply see the other boy that they’ve known their whole entire life. idk?? does that make sense??? DOES ANY OF THIS EVEN MAKE SENSE I DON’T KNOW WHAT WORDS ARE ANYMORE I’M JUST SWIMMING IN FEELS OKAY. I’M TRYING HERE

they’re just boys, is what I’m trying to say, I guess. just Deku and Kacchan. all the walls are down, all the gaps are bridged, and all it is is the one boy reaching out and connecting with the other, and just,,, (꒦ິ⌓꒦ີ)

OH MY GOD [GRABBING YOUR SHOULDERS AND POINTING WORDLESSLY] !!!1LK1

DO YOU ALL KNOW WHAT THIS IS YOU GUYS

HOW PERFECTLY FUCKING RAD. WELL LET ME JUST ENJOY THESE LAST FEW SECONDS BEFORE MY LIFE IS FOREVER CHANGED, I GUESS

OH

MY

GOD

CAN HE EVEN SAY THAT??? IS THAT EVEN LEGAL??? IS HE EVEN FUCKING ALLOWED TO SAY THAT. WHAT IS HAPPENING

OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!! OH MY GOD!!!!!!

─=≡Σ((( つ ◕o◕ )つ

GET IN HERE, EVERYONE!!

Y’ALL HE REALLY DID IT. “BAKUGOU IS SUCH AN ASSHOLE HE HASN’T EVEN APOLOGIZED” WELL GUESS FUCKING WHAT. GUESS FUCKING WHAT, YOU GUYS!! LET’S FUCKING GOOOOO ((((／￣∇￣)／＼(￣∇￣＼)))) AHHHHHHHHHH

OHHHHHHHH

HEH. I’M ALREADY DEAD, HORIKOSHI, YOU BASTARD. DO YOUR WORST. GO ON

YOU CAN ALWAYS COUNT ON “US”, HE SAYS. ALONG WITH A BUNCH OF OTHER STUFF OMG. KACCHAN, YOU STUDIED!! YOU UNDERSTAND!! PREACH!!

OH NO!!

OH WAIT!!!!

LOL I GOT SCARED THERE FOR A SECOND BUT ANYWAY! EVERYONE GET IN HERE!!! GROUP HUG!!! OR WAIT, NO, WHAT ABOUT -- [GRABS YOUR COLLAR URGENTLY] YOU DON’T THINK -- COULD THEY POSSIBLY -- !!!!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

ARE YOU GONNA HUG!??!?!?!?! I AM NOT OKAY!!!!!!! !!!hgk

REACTION PANELS LOL EVERYONE ELSE IS ON THE EDGE OF THEIR SEATS TOO WE’RE ALL IN THIS TOGETHER

LOL OCHAKO

I KNOW THAT IN REALITY THIS FACE IS JUST BECAUSE SHE’S CONCERNED ABOUT DEKU’S FRAGILE STATE RN, BUT I KEEP THINKING ABOUT THE WAY SHE JUST DROPPED IIDA COLD THOUGH, AND I CAN’T HELP BUT FEAR FOR KACCHAN’S SAFETY LMAO. THAT FEELING WHEN THE CLASS PERV AND THE CLASS BULLY BOTH BEAT YOU TO THE LOVE CONFESSION. KACCHAN WATCH YOUR SIX

OKAY BUT LOOK, IT’S NOT THAT I DON’T LOVE ALL OF THE OTHER KIDS, OKAY, BUT CAN WE PLEASE!??!?! HELLO?!?!? MOMO, JUST -- COULD YOU JUST FOR A MINUTE --

NOOOOOOOOOOO

“DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT, I HAVE TO SAVE SOMETHING FOR THE FINALE” HORIKOSHI YOU BETTER WATCH OUT, I’M COMING FOR YOU WITH A TWO BY FOUR!! NOT THAT I’M UNGRATEFUL!! BUT JESUS CHRIST, YOU CAN’T JUST DO THAT, AND THEN ALMOST DO THAT, AND THEN NOT!! OMG I HATE YOU

sure let’s cut to Thirteen then, yay. I mean I’m glad they’re alive lol, don’t get me wrong

(ETA: I think that might have sounded a bit sarcastic so I just want to clarify that I really am happy Thirteen is alive and on the job again lol.)

it’s just that if your name doesn’t begin with Baku or Deku I honestly am not interested for just these next five minutes okay lol. like I’m just gonna be completely honest. I am too invested lol, please, they were having a moment, JUST LET ME HAVE THIS PLEASE

OH DAMN U.A. GOT SWOLE AF

THIS SCHOOL HAS BEEN JUICING WTF. I THOUGHT YOU WERE TARTARUS LOL

I’m literally not even reading the speech bubbles though omg I’m so sorry. I really hope there is not a quiz, I promise I will come back to it later scroll scroll scroll

okay so they brought him back to U.A. and he’s all tired and out of it yes

oh goody Hagakure knows all about the security system

(ETA: is it just me or is Horikoshi really laying it on thick with the hints about these two guys lately? I’m on to you sir.)

THAT’S WONDERFUL NEWS. GLAD THIS CRITICAL KNOWLEDGE IS SAFE IN THE HANDS OF THE PEOPLE THAT WE TRUST

ffs Deku

WHAT WILL IT EVEN TAKE TO CONVINCE YOU THEN?? SWEET JESUS

-- holy shit, what??!

they know?? how did they find out??! holy shit???

I’m about to cancel the whole of Japan lmao. fucking try me dudes

-- THE PRINCIPAL!?

NEZU GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE RIGHT NOW!! WHAT THE FUCK

“a ticking time bomb” tell you what, this man is just asking to be punched in the face. literally begging for it omg

(ETA: I have been advised that I misread this part; Rat Principal told everyone how safe U.A. was, but he’s not the one who ratted out Deku; that was “the rumors”, apparently. which, if I had to guess, were probably started by AFO.)

oh I see, so it’s to be Feels, Part II then

he looks so sad and tired and lonely and she goes right for the hand, god bless. though if Kacchan’s not gonna hug him, you’d think someone would at least. or is it because he still smells bad. hmm

AND THE CHAPTER’S ENDING ON HER LOL WELL OKAY THEN

I MEAN IT’S GREAT AND ALL, I LOVE OCHAKO REALLY I DO, BUT WE WERE PROMISED GREAT EXPLOSION MURDER GODS, WHAT GIVES SOB. I WAS ALL READY TO BREAK OUT INTO SONG AND EVERYTHING. SURE, HE DID THE APOLOGY, BUT WHERE IS THE FOLLOW-UP GODDAMMIT

(ETA: just to clarify the reason for my rambling here, I was really waiting for the hero name reveal and the presumed deeper meaning behind it lol. but I guess that is a conversation still to come! and we still need Deku’s response to the apology too for that matter. lots to look forward to still.)

WELL WHATEVER, SO THAT IS THE END OF THE CHAPTER! SHOUT OUT TO MY BOY RAT “LET ME JUST TELL EVERYONE IN THE ENTIRE WORLD ABOUT DEKU’S SUPER SECRET IDENTITY, I GUESS THAT’S ALL RIGHT NOW, NOTHING BAD COULD POSSIBLY COME OF THIS” PRINCIPAL. listen here you little shit

anyway but if you’ll excuse me... IF I COULD TURN BACK TIME. IF I COULD FIND A WAY. I’D TAKE BACK THOSE WORDS THAT HAVE HURT YOU, AND YOU’D STAY. I DON’T KNOW WHY I DID THE THINGS I DID. I DON’T KNOW WHY I SAID THE THINGS I SAID. PRIDE’S LIKE A KNIFE, IT CAN CUT DEEP INSIDE. WORDS ARE LIKE WEAPONS, THEY WOUND SOMETIMES. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T REALLY MEAN TO HURT YOU. BUM~ BUM~ BUM~, I DIDN’T WANNA SEE YOU GO. I KNOW I MADE YOU CRY, BUT BABAY, IF I COULD TUUUUURN BACK TIIIIIIIIIIIME...

[applsauss]

Misery | War-Tober #8

Description: He makes you want to believe.

Fandom: Fury (2014)


Pairing: 
Boyd “Bible” Swan/Reader

Word Count: 
800+

Warning(s):  None.

Boyd finds you two streets behind the tank and in an alley, sitting hunched over on a pile of crates. You’re still stewing over the scene Grady and Gordo made, talking about shooting fucking horses right in front of your face -- and Boyd didn’t do shit to stop them -- all ‘cause they were mad at Don. 

They know how you feel -- they fucking know how you feel -- about horses. Growing up on a ranch will do that to you, enamour you with animals who don’t know any better, who don’t know shit about tanks or explosive shells or fucking Nazis.

Your name echoes down the alley, spoken from Boyd’s lips. Your body tenses, gearing for a fight. You don’t want to see him right now. You take an angry drag of your cigarette, then white-knuckle the edge of the crate. “Fuck off, Bible.” 

“I’m here to apologize,” he says, and his voice is so goddamn earnest, just like it always is, but you don’t let it unravel the knot of emotions in your chest.

You flick the butt of your cigarette at him, and sink your nails into what’s left of your dignity, intent on keeping it with you. “You deaf now?” 

“No,” Boyd says, continuing to approach you despite your warning until he’s standing in front of the crate. He takes his hat off and holds it in front of him, wringing it in his hands. “I mean it. I’m sorry.” 

You’re desperate as that anger, like righteous fire, starts to slip through your hands. You’re so easy for him, at his beck and call. You’d drop everything for him in an instant and he knows it. You’re not sure what you’re more ashamed of, the fact that he has that power over you, or the fact that you know he’d never abuse it. 

You hop off the crate and try to shove him away from you, but he latches onto your shoulders and holds you to him. “Boyd! I’m fucking serious!” You weren’t expecting him to put up a fight. You struggle to pull him off you, but he holds tight, his arms wrapped around your head in some sort of forced hug. 

“Boyd!” you grit out, but your voice doesn’t sound like your own. 

“It’s alright,” he says, and suddenly the anger is gone and replaced with something much worse. You sob weakly, still pulling at his arms, but he doesn’t let you go. He knows not to. 

“Fuck you,” you protest, hands folding into the fabric of his jacket, but you’re no longer fighting him. Your knees wobble, and Boyd holds tight, taking on your weight. 

“It’s alright,” he says into your hair. “I got you.” 

He is comfort like no other. You might have been religious once, it’s hard to say. You think you believed as a child -- but whatever faith you had left, the war killed it. Your time is better spent not trying to make sense of something that has none. 

Boyd, though… He makes you want to believe. He is the warmth inherent in trusting god to guide you on your way, the warmth inherent in being loved. 

“Boyd--” 

“You’re alright, sweetheart.” 

He should not call you that. He shouldn’t call you that. It makes you think of all sorts of inappropriate things, of unspeakable moments you spent alone, with just the two of you. You squeeze your eyes shut, bite your tongue, but don’t remove your face from his neck. You’re so pathetically easy for him and so pathetically unable to extract that want from yourself, the want for his love. 

“Alright,” Boyd whispers after a couple minutes. He rubs his hands up and down your back, smoothing the wrinkles in your jacket. “Wardaddy’s orders. Gotta move out now.” 

His touch drives a shudder up your spine, then you pull away slowly. “Okay.” You tug your sleeve over your hand and wipe the tears from your face -- and there’s something in Boyd’s eyes, raw emotion, like he wants to wrap you up in it. It makes you think of church, how you felt so a part of something as a child, sitting on those chestnut pews, surrounded by such sweet hymns. 

When you were little, there wasn’t a safer place than your backwater church. Then you grew up and got drafted, served through Africa, France, Belgium and now you’re in Germany and through all that, you ain’t ever felt something that came close to that rapture except for when Boyd was looking right at you.

You stare, dumbfounded, into his glassy eyes until he breaks the spell by speaking, voice nothing but a broken rasp. “You good?” he asks. His hands are on your shoulders; he doesn’t dare touch your face.

No. You scrub your face again and drag your nails across your scalp. You’re falling to pieces and the preacher is the only thing holding you together. Everything in you screams for him, but he’s got a wife and two kids and he’s a praying man and he won’t ever be yours.

“Yea, Bible,” you say. “I’m good.”

Masterlist | War-tober Prompts | My Schedule

[purple-martin111]

The Sacrifices We Make

Read on Archive of Our Own

Chapters: 3/? Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: The Creator Chose Not to Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor Characters: Paladin Danse, Female Sole Survivor, Arthur Maxson, Scribe Haylen Additional Tags: Post-Blind Betrayal, Hurt/Comfort, Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Guilt, Suicidal Thoughts, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Heavy Angst, Abuse, Mental Health Issues

Chapter 3 - The Road to Righteousness

"Well hold on, my darling This mess was yours, Now your mess is mine" -Mess is Mine, Vance Joy-

“I’ll see you on the other side…”

BANG!

Darkness exploded around her and Jackie shot up from her bedroll.

“Danse?!” She cried, feverishly groping for her rifle or her Pip-Boy, anything to help fend off whatever had jolted her awake.

“Soldier?”  It came out forceful and frantic as Danse clanked through the room, “What is it? What’s the matter?” 

“I-I don’t know... I can’t breathe!”  Jackie panted, her pounding heart threatening to strangle her. “Something’s wrong!” 

Unable to control her racing thoughts, Jackie trembled and clung to her bedroll. She was convinced she’d perish in a fit of hysteria or at the very least, die of embarrassment. In an attempt to conceal her shameful state and regain some semblance of control, she pressed her face into her hands,

“You’re alright.”  

She nearly leapt out of her skin at Danse’s hand on her shoulder and his voice in her ear. So consumed by her irrational fear, she hadn’t even heard him exit his power armor. It stood looming at the edge of the room and Danse... Danse was so near that Jackie was suddenly overwhelmed by all the emotions she’d been trying so hard to bury since leaving the vault. All the pain and heartache, her insurmountable grief, leaked from the little box she’d haphazardly stuffed them away in. 

“It’s not real, you’re safe. It’ll pass, just breathe.” 

Danse had taken a knee beside her and his grip, firm on her shoulder, moored her to reality. At least until she met his gaze and those heartbreakingly familiar brown eyes shattered her sanity. It took everything in her not to clamber into his arms and weep away her troubles. Instead Jackie clutched at his uniform and squeezed her eyes shut to block out the haunting reminder and hold back the tears caught just behind her lids. 

Nate, she missed him so goddamn much it hurt. But Danse...right now, Danse would have to do. She let his soft, calming words sooth her aching heart and slowly the panic subsided. Left with only an echo, Jackie’s hands fall into her lap. Broken and hollow, she grasped at the ghosts of her former life splintering in the parallels of her mind. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispered and pawed at her face, wiping at tears or the flush of shame she didn’t know. 

“This is common among soldiers.” His hand lingered on her shoulder, a gentle reminder that despite her madness, Danse still had her back. “There’s nothing to be ashamed of.” 

Jackie just stared at her hands. There was sadness in Danse’s voice, a resonance of understanding that made her wonder about his own mental state. She wasn’t blind. She’d seen how he struggled. How he kept himself endlessly busy, avoiding sleep or rest so he didn’t have to confront his own demons. Danse carried the weight of the wasteland on his shoulders and clearly he cared about her. He was a tough nut to crack, but underneath it all he was kind and a good man. 

All Jackie had done since enlisting was repay his kindness in cruelty. She had been insubordinate at best and nothing short of a cold-hearted bitch at worst. 

“I haven’t treated you fairly,” she admitted, “I’ve been angry and so caught up in myself. You...” she nervously wrung her hands together as she trailed off, “you were an easy target.” 

Danse shifted to lean his elbow on his knee. “Sometimes trauma makes us do things we aren’t proud of.” 

“Doesn’t give me the right to be nasty.” She glanced over at him and was met with the faintest of smiles. 

“Is that an apology I hear, soldier?”  

“I-ah…,” she tittered to herself, “yeah, I suppose it is.” 

Danse continued grinning and knocked his shoulder against hers, "I appreciate the sentiment.” 

She leaned into him, wishing he could give her so much more than just fleeting touches. “Thanks,” she muttered and pulled away before her emotions got the better of her again, “I can take watch if you want.” 

“Negative,” his fingers brushed against her shoulder as he stood to retreat back to his armor, waiting until he was safely encased inside before continuing, “but you can sit with me if you’d like.” 

Just breathe.

Jackie’s chest ached at the recollection of that moment. Danse…he was the only thing worth fighting for in this world, the only thing keeping her breathing. He was her lifeblood and if he died at the hands of the Brotherhood for her mistakes, they might as well kill her too. 

This was her fault. She should have done more, fought harder, told Maxson where he could shove it and walked away. Should have run and never looked back and taken Danse somewhere far away. Somewhere near the sea where they could watch the sunrise and hear the waves crashing upon the sand in the evening. Leave it all behind and allow the Commonwealth to fall to its own demises. Jackie, however, had been selfish and naive in thinking that she and Danse could live in peace without retribution.

Despite her shaking hands and pounding pulse, she refused to be consumed by panic. It rattled her bones, scratching at her skull like the parasite it was, but Jackie pushed herself forward. She forced her feet to carry her across the room to where she had dumped her duffle bag the night before. Hastily, she stripped of her night clothes and plucked a clean uniform from her pack, dressing with little regard to her personal appearance. 

Unkempt and unhinged, her hair was a rat’s nest of wheat colored straw and her face a dirty, tear stained mess, but it would have to do. She would have to do.

With a sigh and a final glance around the room, she jabbed the elevator call button. As she waited for its descent she paced, attempting to formulate a plan. A plan that didn’t involve her solo assault on the Brotherhood stronghold or the very real possibility that she would be forced to murder their Elder. 

Shit. 

Staggered by the consequences of Danse’s actions, she stumbled to a halt. If she intended to survive this, she was going to have to bring down the Brotherhood--alone. If by some stroke of dumb luck she was successful, then what? The Commonwealth would crumble at the sudden power vacuum. 

Dammit Danse! 

Jackie slammed her fist against the elevator door just as it clanged open and she was left standing there, messaging her forehead between her fingers. She didn’t know what the hell she was going to do but she slung her duffle bag over her shoulder and snatched up her rifle nonetheless.  She would make it up as she went and wished to whatever gods were still listening that they didn’t end up dead. 

The elevator made an agonizingly slow ascent to the surface and Jackie prayed that she was wrong. She prayed that Danse had just gone to patrol the perimeter or ventured to a nearby settlement for supplies and he would be waiting for her in the vestibule of the bunker. But, when the elevator finally rattled to the surface, Jackie was greeted with darkness and the stark absence of Danse. 

The bunker entrance was empty, and quiet midsummer twilight greeted her as she stepped out into the wasteland. Her heart skipped a stuttering beat at the sight. Perhaps luck was still on her side because in the cover of night and concealed in her armor, Danse might still be alive.

In the distance, the sun peeked over the horizon, painting the skyline in faint wisps of pink and orange. The sunrise lazily eclipsed the deep blues and black of night while she headed east to the unofficial extraction point. As she walked on, she rooted around in her bag, searching for the signal grenade she’d stashed away in case of emergency. 

It didn’t take long to reach the designated location, a vacant stretch of broken road behind the old ironworks factory. She threw down the signal grenade and watched as the plume of smoke circled up into the heavens. Not so patiently she waited for the distant hum of the vertibird’s engines to break the silence.

Minutes crept by and before long the sun breached the horizon. With it, came the feeling of failure. Not once had she bothered to check in with Danse last night to assess his own mental state. His deteriorating physical health had been an obvious sign of his instability, yet Jackie had failed to acknowledge it. Instead, she burdened him with her insignificant troubles and neglected to reciprocate his kindness. Perhaps if she had, she wouldn’t be in this situation.

She had promised to be there for him, help him heal, and secretly she had vowed to love him. Then in the face of hardship, she’d abandoned him. Jackie couldn’t breathe and before she could stop it, tears were tumbling down her cheeks. She had betrayed him when he had needed her the most. 

The crippling intensity of her guilt sliced at her ribs, threatening to tear her apart. It would have been better, easier for them both, if she had just endured the pain of letting Danse go. Allowed him to move on and live out his days in peace. After everything he’d been through, he at least deserved that much.

The ground groaned beneath her feet as she paced in an attempt to occupy her mind and halt the hemorrhaging of her spiraling thoughts. Her gut churned, bile rising in her throat and she commanded her body to be still. Her urge to vomit quelled just in time to hear the familiar whirl of a vertibird’s engines approaching. Earth and grass whipped about and dirt was violently kicked up with the aircraft’s impending landing. Jackie covered her face with her arms, attempting to shield herself from the dust storm. As soon as the vertibird’s landing gear made contact with the ground she hoisted herself up into the troop load, despite the sickening feeling that still lingered.

A familiar face, clad in aviators and arrogance, greeted her when she clambered inside. It was always the same Lancer who retrieved her. The same pilot who had run transport for Danse and his team and who had taken Maxson to the bunker. He was the only one authorized for extraction from this location and even though words had never been exchanged, Jackie knew he knew and she wondered what price he had paid to keep their secret. 

He handed her a headset as she scooted by to sit in the co-pilot’s seat, the roar of the engines drowned out when she slipped it on. 

“Paladin,” His voice crackled through the earpiece, followed by a terse nod and salute. 

“Geers.” Jackie returned the gesture out of habit. 

For a moment Geers watched her, taking in her obviously disheveled state, but chose not to comment, “Ma’am, you’ve got orders to report to the Command Deck immediately upon arrival.” 

“Wonderful,” she scowled, “who did I piss on this time to be owed the pleasure?” 

A knowing look passed between them before he spoke, “The Elder knows where you go when you disappear.” 

Jackie said nothing and stared at her feet, the knots in her stomach twisting tighter. 

Geers allowed the void of conversation to stretch on before he added, “Maxson thought you weren’t coming back this time.” 

And there it was, the painful reminder of her violation. 

“Yeah, that was the plan, but...” She could feel his eyes on her, pitying her, questioning her. 

“...but what?” he dared to ask.

None of your goddamn business. 

Jackie wanted to snap at him. Put him in his place and maintain the distance held within the chain of command, but she bit her tongue because it was rude and Geers was one of the few people trusted. 

She twisted her hands together and mused her bottom lip. Should she tell him the truth? The truth would likely get him killed so Jackie decided on a half-truth. “There's been a recent development that requires my immediate attention back on the Prydwen.”  

Static hissed in the coms while Geers watched her with a frown hovering upon his brow. “You told him about Maxson...didn’t you?” he pressed her with the demand and sharp angel of his eyes when she didn’t immediately respond. “Jackie--” 

“Just take me back,” she snapped. It wasn’t a request, she was done playing games. Every second she spent dicking around with Geers put Danse at risk, they needed to leave--now.  

Geers cursed under his breath and Jackie could hear the eyeroll as he turned back to jab at the instrumentation panel. 

“Whiskey, golf, echo, seven, this is Lancer-Knight Geers en route to the Prywden.” 

Static droned in her ears, her stomach lurching when he abruptly jerked the stick to get them in the air. 

“Acknowledged, what’s your status Lancer?” the voice on the other end asked. 

“All’s quiet here.” Geers glanced over at Jackie, looking more smug than was appropriate for the situation. “But mission objective delta juliette is a go. Standby and I’ll brief you on our arrival.” 

More static and then finally air traffic control came back, “Roger that. You’ve been cleared for landing in bay two upon your arrival.”

“Roger out,” Geers responded and flipped a switch, cutting out the static.

Jackie regarded him with cinched brows, Geers wasn’t one for formalities. “What was that about?”

“Just…” he shrugged and peered over his sunglasses, “maybe you don’t have to do everything on your own.”

She shifted in her seat to fix him a hard glare. “I don’t think you comprehend the gravity of the situation.”

“And I think you underestimate my power of persuasion.”

“Don’t flatter yourself,” she scoffed.

“You’ll just have to trust me,” he smirked and turned his attention back to the horizon, “that maybe you--and Danse--still have some friends in the Brotherhood.”

God, she wanted to smack that stupid little grin right off his face. Somehow though, she managed to restrain herself and not feed his ego with the dignity of a response. Instead, she closed her eyes and hoped that whatever half-baked plan Geers had cooked up didn’t get them all killed.

[minaminokyoko]

Peace Talks Reactions

Hey, Dresden Fandom. You guys may or may not be knee deep in Peace Talks, but if you are, I welcome you to the below reactions, in handy dandy bullet form. I would love to discuss the book if you’re interested, whether you reblog with comments or shoot me a chat. I just finished the book, so all spoilers are below the Read More tag. 

Woof. Well, at least it was something after six fucking years of waiting.

·         So before Butcher’s giant hiatus, we had this first chapter of Peace Talks already and I have to say I still feel like I felt six years ago: I don’t really know where he’s going with Thomas becoming a father. In terms of what that will do for him as a character. For Harry, it’s different. Harry keeps it close to the chest with his decisions, willing to die for the greater good in an instant, and becoming a father made him have to be more careful and thoughtful in his actions to be sure he can be there for his baby girl. I’m not sure where Butcher is going with this for Thomas, but I guess we’ll see.

·         I was pleased to find out Harry decided to stick with the protected apartment and is trying his best on Dad duty. Me gusta.

·         Right, let’s get to the first big elephant in the room: Ebenezar. Oh my fucking God. I want to punch his fucking lights out. My friend and I have argued about his reaction to seeing Thomas at the apartment already. I know Eb has Harry by a thousand years or more in experience, but it pisses me off that Eb can’t be bothered to learn more about Thomas. Nope. Just skip straight to irrational anger.  It was also disappointing to find out that Eb is not a part of Harry’s life as much as I thought he was in the past, so clearly he doesn’t understand how important Thomas is to him. I’m a bit miffed that Harry didn’t explain Thomas is his half-grandson to help him understand, but at the same time, Harry might be worried about what that revelation will do. Either way, it displays a massive lack of trust in Harry. To think Harry—who has survived all this fucking shit from the supernatural world so far—is just a pawn and he doesn’t know how incredibly dangerous the White Court is. Eb is downright disrespectful and insulting to his own grandson. I’m sorry, but I think he’s being an asshat in huge proportions by just thinking Harry is too stupid to know better and by not asking him why he feels loyal to Thomas.

·         In that same vein, Eb’s whole thing about wanting Harry to leave Maggie somewhere can kiss my ass. I’m with Harry on this one. It’s not that I don’t trust the foster care system and I think anything negative about adoption, either. Maggie is a target because she’s a Dresden. That’s it. There is nothing she can ever do about it. She is the daughter of Harry Dresden, Captain fuckin’ Disaster of the supernatural world. There is no place she can go where she will be safe and Harry is honestly her best shot at being watched over and protected, but not only that, if she’s gonna be in danger her whole life, she might as well be loved and cared for by her father too. Harry brings up such a good point about feeling abandoned and rejected and how Eb’s “protection” jag didn’t work for Margaret either. I know he wants what’s best for her, but I agree that Maggie has a better chance of surviving at Harry’s side than somewhere else. Hell’s bells, that’s how this whole fucking thing started anyway. Susan’s bitch ass hid the kid and it didn’t work. Sheesh.

·         And now the other elephant in the room: Murphy. I think part of me forgot how severe her injuries were. I had assumed months of PT and such would allow her to be mobile again, but then I read Chapter 5 and now I’m just angry and hurt. You don’t know what you’ve got ‘til it’s gone. You just don’t. I can’t help it. Murphy is my favorite, goddamn it. I’ve reread the books where she’s helping Harry the most because their dynamic is so phenomenal. They’re my OTP. She is one of the best written female characters I’ve ever known, so ripping her ability to be at Harry’s side away is so…2020. It’s just a nasty, horrible thing and it’s shot my excitement for this novel right in the foot. I didn’t realize how important it was to me that Murphy is Harry’s badass ace in the hole until I was told she’ll be lucky to walk again. I know things have to get worse for characters in order for them to grow, but fuck this so much. I am praying she gets a magical contract or healing or a wish or something so she’s back in action or I’m done.

·         With that same elephant, fuck Jim Butcher for skipping over the foreplay at the end of Chapter 5. Yes, I said it. Fuck him. I know he thinks it’s funny to frustrate us, but this is an act of betrayal of the highest order. Why? Because I’ve waited TWENTY FUCKING YEARS for Harry and Murphy to go canon, and what does he do the first time we, the audience, get to see them in a relationship? Cut to curtains fluttering. Fuck you. We deserved that foreplay scene. No, I will NOT use my fucking imagination, pun intended. I just paid you $15 to use YOUR imagination, Jim. You spent fifteen books building up the trust, love, loyalty, and sexual tension of these two characters. That’s countless words and countless pages. And now that they’re FINALLY together, nope, skip it. Skip what should have been something intimate and powerfully emotional. Ha-ha-fucking-ha. I hope you step on a Lego barefoot. I will try to have faith that Butcher will give us what we want—a canon version of Chapter 14 of Skin Game—but if he doesn’t, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind.

·         The thought of Mab and Lara Raith working together is utterly terrifying. No. Just no. Ugh, there are bad times ahead. I also thought it was kind of contrived that Lara is owed favors, which forces Harry to not be able to say no, and I think it’s a bit lazy on Jim’s part for this convenient block to be there and he can’t refuse the favors. It just felt like he didn’t want to put the energy into painting Harry into a corner this time, so here, a convenient favor. That being said, I cackled when Mab called him a bowl of porridge. That was legitimately hilarious. What a bitch.

·         Mm, Harry just called Murphy his girlfriend. I’ve waited twenty years for that alone. *happy sigh*

·         Oh, great. Someone sent Thomas to assassinate someone. I’m betting blackmail, whether he admits to it or not.

·         LOL @ Harry’s cursing policy with Maggie.

·         Harry. Don’t. Make. Promises. EVER.

·         I would not be the least bit surprised if this assassination attempt is Mab’s idea to cut off all of Harry’s allies but her so he will have no choice but to use her protection more often. Mab is a cold fuckin’ piece. Pun intended.

·         Harry, for real, do not square up with Ebenezar. You are a wolf, for sure, but that man is a werewolf by comparison.

·         I’m getting real tired of Ebenezar’s anti-vampire schtick. I get it. They’re bad. Now shut up.

·         This is so unfortunate: I’ve been missing Lara Raith just because she’s a hoot but with this whole favor thing and Harry and Murphy being fitted for chastity belts, I’m more tired than anything else.

·         Oh, neat, one of Gard’s sisters!

·         Of course Lara knows about Thomas being Ebenezar��s grandson. It’s Lara.

·         Oh, good, I’m sure whatever deal Harry just made with Molly isn’t stupid or reckless.

·         Yes, Sanya is a VERY weird man. That is an understatement, Butters.

·         Aha. I had a hunch it was River Shoulders and not the Genoskwa.

·         And oh good, the Genoskwa’s not dead. Yay. I hate you, Butcher.

·         Now there is a good tidbit of story for the series: that the reason everything is accelerating into bad news is we’re about to hit that 666 year mark that people are talking about, where the even worse shit hits. We’ve had small clues about Harry being starborn and this helps provide context for the shit that happens to him. I hope it’s not a Chosen One scenario, but it does explain why he’s been in so many scrapes and why he’s made it out of them so far. However, I tend to dislike destiny in most stories. It can get tedious. We’ll see what’s in store.

·         Ugh, and there it is, but I already knew Lara was gonna make poor Harry break Thomas out from the book trailer anyhow. Sigh.

·         Murphy calling the White Council useless is a fuckin’ mood and a half. I swear, they ain’t nothing but useless since these books first started. Harry hit the nail on the head earlier with Carlos and the Wardens, that they spend a lot of time talking at Harry but not listening. That’s been their entire M.O. from the start. They don’t listen to anything he has to say; they just insist they know better and that he should fall in line, not caring about what he has on said line, which is very often innocent lives. I love the hypocrisy of them preaching to him about making cold, rational decisions when it’s not their asses who have to deal with the consequences. Yes, there is fallout from what Harry does, but the opposition is always there and it doesn’t act solely based on what Harry Dresden does. I really fucking hate the Council at this point.

·         So we get a second of tender kissing in the tub and an “I love you” and then Butcher cuts away again. I am so over it. I don’t have enough energy to put towards how angry he’s making me right now and he doesn’t deserve it anyway. I cannot believe he spent all this time building this relationship up and then makes it canon and won’t touch it. Fuck you.

·         Murphy immediately spotting all three of Harry’s tails is life. God, I love my bad bitch.

·         I do like that Harry has been practicing his Veils. That’s smart. It also shows character development and wisdom that he’s recognizing how much more useful stealth is and that even though it’s hard for him, it’s worth the effort to learn. Good book boyfriend.

·         It’s still Murphy, bitch. Injured or not. My queen is a queen. Try her if you want, Freydis.

·         PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFT MURPHY YOU POOR CATHOLIC DARLING COME HERE. That pass was hilariously unexpected in a book that hasn’t been all that funny so far. Thanks, Jim. That got a whole bunch of cackling out of me.

·         “I like your brother.” I just clapped and squealed. I mean, duh, of course Murphy likes Thomas, but this pleases me greatly to hear her say it aloud. Murph is tough and doesn’t like to say stuff like that out loud usually. I’m delighted.

·         For all my complaints, I appreciate Butcher bringing Murphy in to help Harry plan everything. She’s hella smart and experienced in matters where you need to get someone out without being all guns a-blazing. And it is an apology for her being benched halfway thru Skin Game, imo.

·         Oh, shit. Harry doesn’t know Molly’s the one who attacked Carlos. Ugh. I bet this is gonna explode in someone’s face.

·         And Harry just fucked up the rest of his friendship with Carlos, not know Molly already did the same thing. Greeeeeeeeeeeeeeat.

·         “You just went from a three to a six.” Jesus Christ, immortals are so savage, I swear. I laughed, tho. That was mean as hell.

·         I’m dying that Freydis wants a threesome with Harry and Murphy. I mean, who can blame her? Fuck, I want a threesome with Harry and Murphy, if I’m being totally honest here. The thirst is so fucking real.

·         Finally, someone made a joke about Harry and Murphy getting together.

·         Ah, this IS what I missed about Lara, though—she loves to fuck with Harry for the lolz and nothing other than the lolz. I mean, he’s such a peach. I would do the same thing.

·         Also, Jim, for God’s sake, make up your mind about vampires getting burned! I don’t get it. Thomas can touch Harry, and Harry is and always has been loved, so when do vampires get burned and when do they not? We’ve seen Harry touch Lara even when Susan was still alive and remember the kiss in White Night? MAKE UP YOUR GODDAMN MIND. I had a debate about this with another fan because it’s so goddamn inconsistent! If anyone being loved by anyone else burns them, then that would mean the entire world would be in the know about White Court vampires because they’d get burnt left and right touching people who are loved. I thought it only happens if they try to feed, not just touching each other. I think Jim needs to pay better attention to his own lore or finally spit out an explanation. We’ll see if he does later with that whole kiss thing from the book trailer, I guess. Argh! *Yosemite Sam curses*

·         I’m really starting to hate Harry’s condition and the fact that he didn’t stop to ask Eb what it is or how to stop it. Ugh.

·         Oh, good, and now everyone will think Harry and Lara are a couple. Convenient. Like they don’t already have constant trust issues. I’m sure Eb won’t block a gasket or anything.

·         Oh, yay, a Malcolm Dresden flashback! This is a delightful surprise. Like a lot of the fanbase, we’ve always wanted to know more about him. He seemed like a good man.

·         Yay! Vadderung to the rescue!

·         Okay, I do NOT like Murphy being alone with a starving Thomas and Lara. Not one little bit.

·         Ah, so the goddess Ethniu gets introduced in this book. That’s why Peace Talks got split and then Battle Ground popped out as the next book.

·         “You’re out of the White Council if you do this.” FUCK YOU, EBENEZAR. Jesus Christ, fuck you. All the Council has EVER done is use and abuse Harry Dresden. They have constantly blamed him for everything or forced him to fight their goddamn battles. You can shove it right up your old crusty ass for all I care. I am sick to death of this belief that they are just so righteous and trustworthy and good when they’re self-important douchebags who think that people are ants and can’t be bothered to protect them unless it directly benefits the Council.

·         I think I’m angriest because up until this point, Ebenezar has been mostly reasonable and it feels inorganic that Jim pushed him this hard. It’s just kind of exhausting because it feels like the plot needs Eb to lose his shit instead of it being something natural. I won’t be shocked if we find out he’s been compromised somehow, but I guess I’ll have to find out myself.

·         Murphy is right on the money. We thought we knew Eb, but we REALLY don’t. And that sucks. A lot. Especially since Harry has barely any family at all.

·         I can honestly tell why this book took Jim six years to write. It’s awful stagnant. It’s the exact same reason that the first draft of Of Fury and Fangs kicked my ass. I wrote the story in the first draft incorrectly, in a way, because all the characters were passive for the most part, and the other half of the problem was that I got halfway through this book and thought up an idea for a better book, but in order for the better book to happen, there were too many things I couldn’t ignore in this one, so I still had to finish it and make it good. Peace Talks, to me, feels like it’s obligatory to set up the next book, and maybe that’s why it feels lackluster to me. It’s a transitional book, which isn’t a bad thing, but it’s definitely in the bottom five of the entire series. Transitional books aren’t bad, but they aren’t good either. Most authors know that this tends to happen if you write a trilogy. All the really big, important shit tends to happen in the first and third book if you’re not careful. In this case, yeah, there’s stuff happening, but it’s largely passive. It’s kind of like why back in 2010 people were so hard on Iron Man 2—it spent all this time setting up shit for the MCU, which in the long run is a good thing, but that makes it weak when it tries to stand on its own. 

As it stands, Peace Talks is mediocre. Jim took way too many shortcuts. It felt rushed, ironically enough, because he was so busy moving pieces around to set up for Battle Ground that Peace Talks doesn’t really stand out as interesting or likable like the other books. I really understand why he got stuck and couldn’t write on it for six years. My two biggest beefs here are him pushing Ebenezar into the antagonist role and him completely fucking bailing on the Harry/Murphy relationship after sixteen books of waiting. I mean, yeah, fine, because everything in this book is just set up for Battle Ground, maybe then we’ll get more acknowledgment of the romance and the importance of the relationship, but as it stands, I’m dissatisfied with both aspects. This is part of why we didn’t want a hiatus. If you make us wait this long, inevitably, the result is not going to be up to par. There are VERY few things we as people have waited forever for that ended up living up to our expectations. I almost feel like all the fan theories and fanfiction was a better, more creative result than what actually happened in Peace Talks. That’s harsh, I know, but I’ve been reading the fan generated stuff for six years and that’s just how I feel. 

This is a mediocre novel that’s placing a LOT of weight on what’s to come, which is dangerous from a quality standpoint. It could be a lot worse. I was expecting a disaster. Instead, I got a disappointment. I can live with it, but only if Battle Ground makes up for it. If it doesn’t, then we’re all in a world of hurt.

I’ll take maybe a week or so and then consider if I want to do an actual review or not. We’ll see how I feel once I digest everything and talk it out with friends.

Overall Grade: 3 out of 5 stars

[hopeswriting]

FANDOM: Katekyo Hitman Reborn!

EVENT: Flufftober 2020 

PROMPT: Kiss on the Hand

AUTHOR: @hopeswriting​

RATING: G

PAIRING: Gokudera & Tsuna (Minor or Background Gokudera/Tsuna)

SUMMARY:

Gokudera wakes up at the hospital after the Storm Ring Battle, with Tsuna by his side.

TAG WARNING: Swearing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort

WORDS: 1227

*

Gokudera wakes up slowly to the very painful state of his body, and the immediate realization he’s in a hospital.

He feels like utter shit, which he’s proud to say didn’t happen for a long time now.

The bandages put on him—all over him, and goddamnit it wasn’t that bad, why does everyone always coddle him?—are tight like they were meant to be used as shackles.

Did some idiots let Bianchi take care of his wounds?

It’s dark in the room, not much of the moon rays coming in from the window. He reaches for the lamp on the bedside table, and bites on his tongue to hold on a groan.

That goddamned crazy prince motherfucker. If he likes to see his blood so much, Gokudera will enjoy—

The mattress’s weight shifts, sleepy mumbles breaking the silence. Gokudera snaps his eyes down the bed.

“T—Tenth!”

A mix of wonder and happiness and utter shame overwhelms him, and he's at a loss of words.

Tsuna straightens from the mattress, rubs his eyes. His back pops when he stretches, and Gokudera winces at the noises.

Tsuna freezes mid-yawn when they make eye contact.

“Gokudera-kun!” He rushes to him, leans on the mattress, a hand on each side of his body. “Thank god, you’re awake! Are you alright?”

Gokudera grits his teeth at the weight shifts. He’s not subtle enough however, because Tsuna removes his hands as if he was burned.

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry.”

It’s the turmoil on Tsuna’s face that gives him back his voice.

Gokudera visibly swallows, gets his shit together.

How much more trouble is he going to give him?

“Tenth.” Gokudera leans on his elbows, tries to rise in a semblance of a sitting position. “I—”

“Gokudera-kun lie down, what are you doing?”

“It’s fine Tenth, listen—”

“No!”

Gokudera startles. He gapes at Tsuna, who does stand his ground as conflicted as he seems to be to have raised his voice.

He lies him back down with gentle but firm hands on his shoulders.

“You’re badly hurt, so you should rest.” He pats his pillow before resting his head on it, tucks him in without looking at him. “And don’t you dare apologize.”

Gokudera blinks, and tries to hold on his outrage.

He must absolutely apologize to him. He lost, let Tsuna down—let everyone down—, and worried him.

He can only hope he’ll be forgiven.

“But Tenth—”

“I know you did your best Gokudera-kun, it’s okay. I don’t care about the ring.” Tsuna purses his lips, caught off guard by the harsh tone he used the way Gokudera is, or maybe to stop himself to say more.  “I…” He sits back in his chair, every one of his movement speaking of how tired he is. How tired he feels. “You shouldn’t even have been hurt in the first place. None of you should have been.”

Gokudera shifts uncomfortably. This is not something he expected, whatever this is.

Not that he expected to wake up with Tsuna by his side to begin with.

“Tenth, you… don’t look too good.”

“I’m fine.”

“You should go home, sleep in your own bed. I’ll be fine. I am fine,” he adds quickly.

“I’m fine. I want to stay here, if it’s okay with you. I should be here too.”

What about training? Gokudera wants to ask, but something tells him it’s really not the good time for that.

He frowns. “Tenth, do you think this is all because of you? All about you? It’s a bit insulting.”

Tsuna gapes, a dumbfounded look on his face, his eyes wide. Gokudera waits for the apologies to stumble out of his mouth, but they don’t come out.

Well, shit. Guess he’s doing this now.

“Having snowball fights together, watching fireworks together, laughing together… that’s what you said we’re all fighting for, didn’t you? Don’t you think it means everything to us too? That we’d want to fight for it too?”

“Of course I do! I’d never—this isn’t—I’m—”

Tsuna’s eyes glisten, his face overwhelmed with so many emotions Gokudera can’t tell them apart.

God, if only he could have won this stupid ring.

“I’m sorry I lost.”

“I don’t care about that!” Tsuna’s chair clatters on the floor. He breathes heavily, both his hands curled into shaking fists. “You wouldn’t be involved in all of this if it wasn’t for me. Or am I just too self-centered again?”

“You don’t get to tell us whose people we get to care about, Tenth,” Gokduera says as softly as he can. Tsuna shakes his head, averting his eyes once more. “What if I told you you should kicked out the stupid cow, I-Pin, and the Ranking Prince from your house? Because they put you at risk? How would you feel then?”

Tsuna squeezes his eyes, breathes out a shaky breath. “Angry. Hurt.”

“Yeah,” Gokudera says lamely.

Tsuna laughs, and he doesn’t mind one bit for once. His laugh turns into a sob, and he sinks down on his knees, hides his face in the mattress.

“I’m sorry you got hurt.”

“I’m fine Tenth. I’ll heal in no time, you’ll see.”

“I don’t know what to do.”

“We’ll figure it out. One day at a time. Together.”

“I’m so scared.”

Gokudera bites his lip. Maybe he should just shut up already? Is he even helping here, or he’s just making everything worse?

Where’s the baseball freak when you need him?

“Tenth.” He brushes their hands together, blushing to the tip of his ears, but it’s really not the time for that either. “Tenth.” Tsuna doesn’t make any noise, his fingers curled in the blanket, but he knows he’s crying. Gokudera brushes their hands together again, keeps it up longer. “Tsuna.”

He holds his breath.

It takes a moment, or two, but then Tsuna slips his hand in his.

“Tsuna, look at me. We’ll get through this.”

Tsuna raises his head, wipes his cheeks. “And then what?” He sounds bitter, and exhausted, and bitter. “We’ll just have to get through the next one after that, is that it? And the next one after them, and the one after the last one, and on and on?”

“Yes. And we’ll get stronger each time.” He squeezes his hand, don’t let his voice sounds anything but unyielding. “And one day we’ll be strong enough no one else will ever be able to stop us from doing snowball fights together. And watch fireworks together. And laugh together as much as we want. Does that sound like a plan?”

Gokudera fears Tsuna will look away again, but he doesn’t. He stares deep into his eyes, and he lets him.

He’d never ever lie to him, least of all about this.

Tsuna cradles his hand in both his own, presses it against his forehead, eyes closed like he’s praying.

He laughs, something that still sounds like sobs, but sounds more like a laugh than a sob at the moment.

He kisses the back of his hand, slow and earnest, kisses it again, and Gokudera’s heart does something he’s pretty sure is physically impossible.

“Yeah,” Tsuna breathes out, “yeah, it sounds like a plan.” He presses his hand against his cheek, and smiles the most genuine smile since this whole Varia bullshit started. “It sounds like the best of plans. Thank you, Gokudera-kun.”

*

I just think Tsuna deserved to process his trauma, and talk it out with someone who cared enough to listen, and hearing out loud he wasn’t in this alone, far from it.

Also once Gokudera starts actually putting some worth on his name, I think it would have been nice to see him becoming more Tsuna’s friend and less his subordinate.

Thus he calls Tsuna “Tsuna” for the first time here.

Thank you for reading! Any and all review are appreciated ^^.

[martelldoran]

Ave Maria

Title: Ave Maria

Fandom: MCU

Ship: Steve/Bucky

NSFW: No

Summary: 

And Bucky loved him.

It was clear to him now as he sat, head bowed, at his bedside. He had almost lost him, could lose him still, and if that were to happen, he knew that he would lose the very best part of himself.

“How am I supposed to live without you?” he whispers, daring to take Steve’s hand in his own.

Steve has only gone and got himself hurt. Again. So, Bucky keeps a watchful vigil over his friend and struggles with newly realised feelings.

Written as part of @hogwartsonline‘s Dialogue OWLs from the prompt, “How am I supposed to live without you?”. Thank you to @stevenroguers for beta-ing. <3

Read on AO3 or Keep Reading here

Steve’s face is ashen and he looks like death is courting him. Bucky should be at school but he can’t face it. Not when Steve almost died.

He’s kneeling on the floor, the bare wooden boards digging into his knees.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena ,” he mutters, tracing unwilling fingers over his pa’s old rosary.

He doesn’t think it’ll do much good. When has God ever listened to him? But he considers, maybe he’d listen to him today. Or if not him, then maybe his Holy Mother in all her mercy. If only they’d save Steve. Steve, who is good, Steve, who doesn’t deserve to die because he was trying to do the right thing.

“Please, please don’t die on me now. I’ll do anything, give anything .”

The woman who found him bleeding on the sidewalk said he’d sliced himself open trying to vault a fence after running from some asshole with a shiv. She didn’t know why he was being chased, but Bucky could hazard a guess. The guy woulda been ragging on some dame or a skinny, knock-kneed kid and Steve woulda seen and thought, “Not on my watch.”

Bucky didn’t need to know the details because there have been plenty of other assholes Steve has insisted on putting in their place over the years. It didn’t matter that he was barely scraping 5’4” or that he weighed about as much as a Raggedy Ann doll, the boy loved a cause.

And Bucky loved him.

It was clear to him now as he sat, head bowed, at his bedside. He had almost lost him, could lose him still, and if that were to happen, he knew that he would lose the very best part of himself.

“How am I supposed to live without you?” he whispers, daring to take Steve’s hand in his own.

It feels much too small and his skin is cold and clammy. Bucky’s afraid he might break him if he grips too tight. He strokes his thumb across Steve’s knuckles and imagines what it might be like to walk down the street holding this hand. But, as quick as the thought surfaces, he pushes it away, pushes it far down, where no-one, not even he, can see it.

Bucky swallows with a shudder and grips his rosary once more.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena ,” he prays, a tremor running through the familiar words. “Holy Mother, don’t let him die. Have mercy on his soul. Take mine instead even if it’s only worth half as much. The world needs more people like him.”

Steve is meant for more than this, Bucky knows it, has known it for years. All he has to do is make it a few years further, until he's grown, and can take the entire world by storm. And Bucky will stand by his side through it all if Steve will  have him.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena . You’re not so cruel to take him just yet. I pray thee intercede on his behalf, it is not yet his time.

“ Pater noster, qui es in caelis . Will talking directly to you work better? If you damn me, will you save him? Do you hear me, Father? It’s a fair exchange, isn’t it? Take me because I tell you this, I’d let you do it - a thousand times over.”

“James, darlin’? Won’t your ma be wonderin’ where you’re at?” Sarah Rogers’ voice reaches him from the door. Bucky starts. He hadn’t heard her approach. She is silhouetted against the light from the hall but Bucky can see how her worried eyes flicker over her son’s prone body.

Bucky scrambles to his feet, knees protesting after too many hours spent kneeling.

“No, she knows I’m here. I phoned her from the hospital before we left,” he says fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Please, I’d like to stay. If I can?”

“Of course. Stay as long you like,” she says and enters the room fully.

Sarah looks tired, Bucky notes. Her face is drawn and she won’t stop wringing her hands. She approaches the bed and perches at Steve’s side, pushing back his fringe from his sweat soaked forehead. He moans in his sleep and tries to lean into a touch that was barely there. Bucky averts his eyes, it feels like a private moment.

“Are you hungry?” she asks him after a moment, voice tight and tired.

He shakes his head, not wanting to be even more of a burden than he already is even though it has been hours since he’s eaten anything. He hopes that the yawning hole in his stomach won’t give him away. With a heavy sigh, she raises her eyes towards him. It seems as though she might cry.

“I have to work . . .”

“I won’t leave.”

She nods, placated. At least there would be someone with him if the worst was to happen. Bucky shoves the thought away.

Steve’s breathing is shallow and ragged, rattling around his chest like a marble in a beaker. Sure, it rattles at the best of times but this feels different. Death is wet on his breath and her pale fingers are on his cheek.

Bucky resumes his vigil.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena .”

Bucky wakes, hours later bent over the side of the bed with a crick in his neck and strain up his left side. Blinking, confused and with aching knees, he struggles up. Darkness has enveloped the room in a cool embrace and it’s deathly silent.

A horrible thrill of panic shoots through him and he’s climbing across the bed, holding a hand over Steve’s face.

“No, no, no,” he moans, holding very still. “Please be breathing.”

He is. It’s faint but it tickles across his palm like a welcome breeze on a hot day. Bucky sags, his head coming to rest on Steve’s thin chest as he offers up another prayer.

Oh, if only Sister Catherine could see him now. She’d probably piss herself with joy. Finally, the Lord’s good teaching had come home to roost. She’d think he was a proper good Catholic boy in this state, reciting all his prayers nice and proper. But none of this is for her benefit, the Lord’s benefit or even Bucky’s benefit. No. It’s all for Steve. Steve who’s too doped up to pray for his own immortal soul.

So, it’s Bucky’s responsibility to offer up the right words and make sure whoever is listening knows exactly who Steve Rogers is. He couldn’t care one jot about himself. As far as he's concerned, there is nothing waiting for him on the other side but he won’t condemn his friend on his own misgivings.

He settles next to him on the narrow bed, trying not to jostle his still healing body lest he bust open all those neat stitches. There’s a murmur and Steve scoots closer, a frown pulling at his already pinched features. It just about breaks his goddamn heart. With gentle fingers, he pushes Steves’s hair away from his forehead and lets out a low, long breath.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena .” And so the cycle begins again.

With every new repetition, he tries to put as much feeling, as much concentration as he possibly can into it but his mind keeps wandering. He’d never been much good at praying. His ma would scold him for fidgeting during Mass and Becca would get all prissy because she knew the prayers better than he did. It wasn’t his fault. His mind couldn’t stay still, so it always wandered off someplace nicer than the badly lit, stuffy chapel they found themselves in every Sunday.

Usually, it was only bearable because Steve was there too. Half the time his ma was working so they took him, crammed him onto their pew shoulder to shoulder with Bucky who would try his darndest to distract him. Of course, ever the good, god fearing and pious child, he’d swat him away with a reserved smile even when Bucky would pinch the backs of his legs just to get a rise. It never worked but he liked it, relished it, even, because it made him feel important. It made him feel seen.

Well, it’s a damn good thing no-one can see him now with his rumpled shirt, bleary eyes, and hedgerow hair. He is a mess and he’ll be a mess for days to come. He doesn’t plan on going home until he knows Steve will recover. He will. He has to. Bucky will make him. He can do that, right? Because if he can’t, then he’s not sure if he can face what his life will be otherwise either.

He works his way through the rosary again, rubbing each bead with renewed fervour, as if the pressure he exerts correlates directly to how much holy power he can divine. Steve snuffles in his sleep, hooking an arm around Bucky’s leg.

“ Salve Regina, mater misericordiae, vita, dulcedo, et spes nostra, salve. Ad te clamamus exult- exsus - ex- No? Shit.” He could never remember this one.

Fuck the Salve Regina. It was his least favourite prayer.

“ Exsules filii Hevae ,” rasped a thin voice by his side.

“Stevie,” Bucky breathes, dropping the rosary into his lap as if electrified. He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. They flutter for a moment before one settles on Steve’s back. His pajamas are soaked through and he’s shivering, hands trembling something terrible as he tries to push himself into a seated position. “No, no. Don’t try and sit, you’ll bust your stitches, you goon. Lay back.”

With a groan he does as he’s told. He only ever seems to do that when he’s at death’s door but Bucky takes the victory, small though it may be.

“Water,” croaks Steve. His lids hang heavy, obscuring the blue of his eyes and he can’t seem to focus on anything but he gropes for Bucky’s hand, giving it a squeeze before Bucky pushes off the bed to fulfill the gasped request.

“Here, you go.”

Bucky holds the glass in one hand, supporting Steve’s head with the other as he takes tiny kitten-like sips.

“Sister Catherine would beat your ass for not knowing the Salve,” he tells him when he’s finished, voice breathy as he leans back against the pillows, eyes closed. The faintest hint of a smile curling across his lips.

“Well, it’s a good thing Sister Catherine isn’t here then, isn’t it,” Bucky retorts, rising easily to the bait.

Steve sniggers which turns into a cough which turns into a wince that has him clutching at his belly. Bucky frowns, hands hovering above his friend’s stomach, unsure. Closing his eyes, he takes a breath and chews on his bottom lip, considering his options. He needs to check his stitches and, really, he should get him something clean to wear. If he keeps on shivering like this then it won’t just be the threat of infection they’ll be fighting. Another bout of pneumonia and then the writing really would be on the wall.

That settles it.

With quick, deft fingers, head now feeling blissfully clear, Bucky strips off Steve’s pajama top. The stitches are holding, thank God, so he redresses the wound and then redresses his friend. His chattering teeth still but now, he's keening. The pain meds have worn off and the full, fiery pain down the length of his belly has returned.

Bucky attends to him as best he can. He gives him water and what little food he can bear eating but mostly he sits by his side, serving as an easy distraction. At Steve’s insistence, he squashes into the bed alongside him, letting him rest against his side while he talks. He doesn’t know what he’s saying half the time– he’s rambling ceaselessly to take Steve’s mind off the pain. He tells him about Dorothy, the redhead in his class who’s been making eyes at him, the neighbour’s dog who keeps yapping at all hours of the night, and that he thinks Becca will make a great nurse one day.

“Just like your ma, Stevie,” he says in hushed tones. “Maybe they’ll work in the same hospital. Wouldn’t that be grand? She might be her mentor.”

Sometimes, Steve grunts in response, but mostly he stays silent, breathing still shallow but looking a bit more peaceful.

As he speaks, Bucky’s voice quivers, straining under the pressure of remaining calm and in control for his friend. It wouldn’t help anybody to have him falling to pieces - at least on the outside. Inside, he feels like he’s breaking, like he’s being torn apart piece by grizzly piece. The shock of almost losing him is wearing off now; it’s still rocked him to the bone, but Steve’s ribbed him, tried to make jokes, he’ll be fine. Of course, he’ll be fine. He has to be fine. No, it’s the realisation that the very axis of Bucky’s world now revolves around the boy curled into his side that keeps his mind occupied throughout the night’s steady march towards daybreak.

People out there would have some helluva strong opinions if they found out. He knows what happens to boys like him. Pressing his lips together, Bucky stares up at the ceiling and blinks back the tears that have gathered at the corners of his eyes.

No, he won’t cry. Not about this. Love is supposed to be a glorious, wonderful thing. Didn't Jesus die out of love? Wasn’t God supposed to be all loving and forgiving of all sins?

Except this didn’t feel like a sin.

It felt like salvation.

“ Ave Maria, gratia plena . Have mercy on my soul.”

[spnreactionblogging]

INHERIT THE EARTH

SPOILERS BELOW but I guess I’m late to the party huh

oh boy here goes, it's 12/10/2020 as I write this and I've had social media blacklisting SPN tags for the last month so I could get into the headspace to deal with this, I have not heard good things but although I got 15x19 spoiled for me I have somehow avoided 15x20 spoilers so let's see joining me is Two Brothers Pinch of Grace beer and Angel's Envy rum cask rye whiskey a "familiar face" returns? the dog? oh boy it's a buckleming episode I can't wait. how much of this footage was shot after lockdown, is what I want to know. what changed. I am upset that I'm walking into Jack Dying, the episode, on the heels of Cas Dying, the episode the violin is soulful and good at least thank you Jack. thank you for asking where he is. I love this shot of sam against the power lines. he looks so small. dean I really don't want you to be the one pretending you give a shit and trying to "comfort" jack. nice reverse establishing shot of the earth. "hokay. so, here's the earth." oh hey jake abel. I guess I knew that. doesn't mark pellegrino show up too. they're the only PCs left oh sweetheart :( he's trying to pray to him. so buckleming remembered that was an option, huh, just not like. in the ma'lak box jack sitting on that giant retail planter is so damn sad man the fucking uh, the empty news chair with the camera rolling is wild. I love you sam I love rob and every time I see him I'm sad that they made chuck such an asshole calling jack a "lapdog" wow. indeed. okay chuck you're ripping off The Road or whatever, we get it jack has like honest to god pajamas. maybe they were from the dryad or whoever for christmas dean passed out on the floor huh he found a liquor store and he drank it is jack hearing angel radio again doggo "I love you miracle dog" this dog honestly is the best thing oh there he goes :( rickrolled "maybe that's the point. no one left to save. no one but us." sam is better at reading than dean is okay that is a COOL fucking camera angle looking down from above the crucifix this does feel a lot lonelier, like early seasons are we looking at the stations of the cross, is that what the pages were turned to. I couldn't quite see jake abel, I wish I had not missed your baking show with misha that instagram failed to record :( "poor bastard never caught a break" no fucking kidding, RIP adam (finally) michael's been running PR on earth I can't get over how much it looks like jack and adam/michael should be related can michael read the death book? lmao this is how a lot of people seem to feel about books in general, like it's causing them pain to try to read. dramatic music as no one can read it's chuck pranking them again. guaranteed. LMAOOOOO OR LUCIFER so the empty can eject angels back onto earth. fascinating. ah, betty is a reaper. she's gonna come back as death, huh so she can read the book tbh good for her the headbutt was good death starter kit with the decoder ring lmaooooo GOD talking to them like they're petty children is honestly making my day!!! "not a group project" I mean even if she was with them she could just lie about what it says. not okay with leaving jack and lucifer alone "almost-mighty" is really funny the house of cards is good lucifer's right about "fuck god" is betty the empty hahaha you guys got fucked "mikey's a cuck" wow. thanks buckleming. cuckleming? archangel blade??? jack u ok did sam hook michael up with that??? sam is smart. thank fuck. sam'll have it cracked in an hour. sam's got the book of the damned and google translate: enochian (that he cowrote with castiel) sam's a witch wherever they're filming is gorgeous GET HIM, SAM, PUNCH GOD IN THE FACE that was inspired. that was like bobby singer shooting lucifer levels of inspired. buckleming had to get their torture in. last hurrah for the torture train where's jack??? this is what people mean when they say "I like to torture my OCs" you know you didn't have to be an asshole to your grandchild, dude I like when everybody's eyes glow but especially jack's this empty book is trump's COVID plan. just blank sheets of paper stapled together sam is smart. jack's like a mushroom. just soaks up all the good juices in the pan. what if sam and dean make out in the next episode and we find out becky wrote the whole show. maybe you just have to be a regular jackoff, chuck. dean pretty much is the ultimate killer. I mean yeah that is who you are, dean how victorious. you die sick and alone and forgotten with no healthcare. america! this is a bummer. is this victorious? did we win? lmao the sign "ONE MORE!" is that a teal impala over there how do you have extras in this episode, yeesh how much was stock footage, if any "What do we call you?" "Who cares what we call him? All that matters is that we got him back online." fuck off dean at least let jack answer "of course he's coming back" fuck off dean why would he come back with you if he can do anything he wants GO FIND CAS fuck off dean just fuck off dude, you don't get to boss him around how freudian, kill your grandfather who is god very demiurge of you, jack jack's off to be a blind watchmaker I love how he waves, jack is adorable god they're like literally red oni blue oni (red jackass, blue jackass?) over here lmao, these shirts when did cas and jack write their names on the table, they only count now that they're dead? or did I miss something earlier this shot of "what is and what should never be" absolutely breaks my goddamn heart. top fave. fuck. this is a sweet tribute how is this not the end???? I like how kim rhodes and misha collins get special guest star credits for their voicemails/fake phone call literally how is this not the ending to the show. why is there another episode. sans undertale appears to warn me not to watch the next episode. "you're gonna have a bad time." a friend who's not in the fandom asked me "is the tetanus thing for real" and I was like "??????????" and that's the only thing I know going into this. what do they do, drive into toluca lake have a jared and jensen spa day I caught wind of someone saying like "what if sam wakes up to 'heat of the moment' again" which would be BRILLIANT but they're not that clever do they just get stabbed by a regular-ass ghost? do we delete the whole universe and salt and burn the show itself? where do we even go from here. how many sharks are left to jump. someone said "sam gets shot by navient for unpaid student loans" and that is fucking funny and too real sam dies of muscular dystrophy and dean sings "heat of the moment" to congress to allow stem cell research? what. what could you possibly write from here. and why would you. I feel like any shitpost thing I say is still gonna be more clever than what they came up with and I'm not sure I should even watch it. I also hate the idea that buckleming would have the last word but it was surprisingly watchable is this SPN's equivalent of the candy epilogue, but with zero self-awareness? the network swooping in for a final "fuck you" like they did to mark sheppard? what. what even. I don't know if I want to know

[highflyerwings]

Now, for what REALLY needs to be said.  

While I adore A.C.E, I’m....unimpressed by the fans.  

I’m unimpressed by Choice.  I’d go so far as to say I’m disappointed.  ESPECIALLY after what I witnessed during the concert.

To put it simply, Y’all disrespectful.  

Waiting in line all day long with hundreds of Choice was interesting.  I will say, A.C.E have a very wide range of fans.  All ages, races, backgrounds, genders, sexualities, etc.  And that was nice.  That was good to be around.  I also didn’t hear one Choice shit on another group.  All Choice are multis, that much was VERY clear, and I appreciated that.  But that’s about the best thing I can say for Choice so far.

The thing that bothered me was, first and foremost, the fight that broke out in line.  If anyone at the Dallas show is reading this, you’ll know what I’m talking about.  And if you WERE one of those in the fight, I sure fucking hope you’re reading this, because I have something to say...

You should be ashamed.  

I pray to any god who’s listening that the boys didn’t hear about the fight, and that they NEVER hear about it, because it would break their hearts.  They’d be disappointed, they’d be sad, they’d be ashamed.  And they’d have every right to feel that way.  To start a fight over your spot in line is disgusting.  I’m sorry, but there’s absolutely NO reason for that.  We all want to be close to the stage.  We all want that special place.  But it’s not worth it.  In the end, it doesn’t fucking matter.  We’re there for the music, and to support the boys.  Outside of that, literally nothing else matters.  No y/n moment you’ve imagined in your head happening between you and the boys on stage is worth getting into a literal fist fight, and having security called on you, losing your spot in line, and risking the safety of others around you.  

I’m too old for that shit.  And I know for fucking sure, some of y’all in that fight were old enough to fucking know better.  So cut that shit out.  I never ever want to hear about that happening again.  Not at any Kpop show, but certainly not at an A.C.E show.  Get the fuck over yourself, and act the way the boys expect you to.  Show some goddamn decency, and represent the boys the way they deserve to be represented.  

Your behavior reflects HEAVILY on them.  Remember that.

The other thing that bothered me was....the sheer amount of noise Choice made during the concert.  Singing and screaming are expected during concerts.  I’m fine with that.  That’s not what I’m talking about.  What I’m talking about is during any silent moment, I heard more screaming and talking than I heard the boys.  During the quietest moment, during words that we were supposed to be hearing, words that were FOR CHOICE, y’all couldn’t shut the fuck up long enough actually listen.  I even heard laughing.  I heard people making fun of the serious moment.  I was embarrassed.  I couldn’t actually believe the majority of the people around me, who were supposedly there for A.C.E, couldn’t show them even the tiniest bit of respect.

Y’all so fucking disrespectful and I’ll keep talking about how disrespectful you are until I’m proven wrong.  Until the next A.C.E show comes around, and I can see some major difference, I will tell people how shitty Choice are -- to each other, and to A.C.E.  

Do better, Choice.  Don’t be that fandom.  Don’t do that.  Please, as a new fan, I’m begging you.  Stop.

[thatyanderecritic]

Bad Yandere Stories- Exhibit A

Hey there everyone, Kai and Julie here. It may or may not be obvious but, we’re on a bit of a hiatus at the moment. Not because we’re particularly busy but we’re simply tired and wanted to have a bit of a vacation before school started. But during our little vacation, we discovered [quite possibly] the worst yandere story we have ever seen in our lives. It’s awful and painful to read. Yet the scariest thing about the story is that there are people who would legitimately consider this guy a yandere and find him hot.  You might be thinking that we’re simply being overly dramatic or picky, (I’m sure some people out there think we are) but let me tell you… this story has everything a yandere fan would hate. This story breaks every goddamn rule we have on this blog and even broke rules we didn’t even know possible. It’s literally our worst nightmare incarnate. Let’s talk about: A Wife’s Cry (TW: Abuse, rape, other toxic relationship stuff)

A Wife’s Cry is a story about the domestic life between our MC, Vanessa Rio Perez, and her husband, Allen Travis Fajardo. Being a Chinese light novel, Allen here is a wealthy CEO to an airline chain while Vanessa comes from an upper middle class (or lower higher class) family. Very cliched. The two ended up in an arranged marriage and ultimately a loveless life. Vanessa is madly in love with Allen (for some reason), while Allen doesn’t like Vanessa at all and felt indifferent towards her. After being treated like furniture for a long time, Vanessa took matters into her own hands and had an affair with a man who actually loved her. It was then Allen found out about this affair…

It is at this point in the summary, where the story turns south. So major trigger warning for you guys. Normally we don’t do that sort of thing because we’re under the assumption that you can handle some harsher topics, considering the nature of yanderes. But man, this story is rough. Lots of abuse, heartbreaking abuse victim mindset, abuser mindset, glorifying abuse, and if you decide to read this story: graphic abuse scenes. There’s also lots of rape and victim blaming. This shit hurts. So take this into consideration.

Anyways, once Allen found out Vanessa cheated on him HE. BEAT. HER. ASS. Like, he went off the rails and nearly murder the girl. And the kicker is that he doesn’t love her but he kept on tossing around excuses like “I’m trying my hardest to love you but then you have to ruin it”, “This is all your fault”, and “I have to teach you a lesson”. Vanessa just takes this and accepts it as her divine punishment or something… because she loves Allen, ya know? And from this point on, the story is just a cycle of Allen beating Vanessa because of random fits and to relieve his stress. He would also rape her too… because, you know, he’s a nice guy. And Vanessa just takes it and licks his feet because she considers him as a god or something. This shit hurts to read bros. It goes from Vanessa begging for forgiveness as Allen beats her, then to Allen raping her, then to Vanessa going “Man, Allen is such a good guy! He cares for me so much!”

Of course, her family and friends say that all this beating is fucked up but Allen would just tell them to shut the fuck up and watch him continue beating Vanessa… cause you know, he’s a rich- I mean, nice guy. At some point, Vanessa got pregnant with his kid. And as we know the trend, Allen beats her and she lost the kid. Allen goes off the rails and blames her for him landing the punch in her gut. Cause, you know, Vanessa is a wicked woman. Eventually, after all that beating and raping, Allen seems to get bored and put his foot down. He made a “powerful” claim that he loved Vanessa “all this time” but he just didn’t realize it and it was Vanessa’s fault that he was beating her. If Vanessa just waited for Allen to eventually fall in love with her, they wouldn’t be like this. Vanessa, with a bloody face, found herself touched and knew Allen was The One all along. And the two continued in this happy (toxic) relationship…. Happily ever after :)

As everyone can see, this story is a piece of garbage and there’s nothing “yandere” about Allen. He’s a straight up abusive jackass. So… pray tell, Novel Updates… Why is this piece of garbage tagged as “male yandere”? Because Allen is “UwU violent”? Fuck off.

This story is a good example on how NOT to make a yandere story. For one: Straight up abuse isn’t something yandere. But the scary thing… the scary thing is that we know that there’s some fucks out there who would find this hot and sexy. We seen the yandere tag on this god forsaken site, we know that there’s people out there who have an abuse kink. Be into choking, blood, and BDSM. But I don’t think Julie and I can ever understand having abuse as a kink. It just… hurts.

Another bad thing about this story: Pathetic, spineless, idiotic, and bland MC. I know she’s an abuse victim but it’s hard to feel bad for her when she has a peanut as a brain. She’s so fucking stupid and the only thing we can explain for this is that the brain damage from all the beating finally caught up to her. RIP the stocking horse. “I’m sorry, I love Allen. The only reason why I had an affair with you is because you have something Allen doesn’t have… love.” Bitch says what now?

Third bad thing about the story: Fucked world logic. After being told to shut the fuck up by Allen, Vanessa’s friends and family just went along with Allen going “Yeah! Fuck Vanessa. The stupid bitch >:( “ The world just bends for these two and validates Allen’s abuser mentality. The police? Police whom?

And finally, just… no plot. It’s just some angst abuse porn. There’s no entertainment, there is no message, and there’s no lesson. Abusers win and abuse victims should know their places and be happy with it.

Just… what kind of weird author wrote this? Actually, I don’t want to know. But know that this is probably what people outside of the yandere fandom think when they look at the trope. Just some crazy abuser and a braindead MC who’s getting off on it. It’s the stereotype in the flesh… staring at us… mocking us. To each their own, but don’t you dare tag this as “yandere”.

[supercasey]

Nomad of Nowhere Episode 12, Season 1 Finale Thoughts

Jesus Christmas, it’s finally here! Time for me to go ape-shit! ((This is really long and I’m sorry for that, so just skip to the bottom if you want to see Actual Theories (TM), but otherwise the top part is just me live-blogging the episode.))

The Nomad looked so offended when that Dandy Lion tried to get him off his pinata horse.

The miscommunication among the crowd... God, I love this fucking show.

Seriously, I can’t get over the fact that the Nomad can’t talk and everyone just tries to figure out what he’s trying to say regardless. He’s trying so hard. I love how he keeps getting increasingly frustrated.

I love Barty. He immediately just goes for the shins and I adore him. Also, him and his dad teaming up to fight the system is a Mood.

tHE DANDY LIONS, I LOVE THEM. THEY’RE JUST ROCKING OUT AS THE REVOLUTION BEGINS AROUND THEM. NEVER CHANGE, BOYS. NEVER FUCKING CHANGE.

Don Paragon: *kicking the Nomad out the window* “YEET!”

Damn. Just... burning down everybody’s houses. That’s harsh.

I love Skout... that’s it. I love her.

The two Dandy Lions having a romantic evening tho... that’s a Mood.

Skout’s so authoritative! Gosh, wonder where she learned that from... ;3c

I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again- Red Manuel is an interesting character! I want to see more from him! He has a wife that’s shitty to him and an even shittier mom! Let him grow to be something more!

Never mind, he just got fuckin’ launched. Damn, Skout, that was savage.

sHE FREED HER CRUSH!! YES!!!

The Nomad just... throws his own fucking leg at him. Iconic.

Look, I know that he can’t fight with swords and that’s why he tossed it aside, but him standing there with that sword... I need to see him learn to fight with swords, guys, pLEASE!

rOCK FRIEND SUIT! IT’S A SUIT MADE OF FRIENDS TO PROTECT THEIR FRIEND!!!

sKOUT!!!

((No joke, I audibly gasped when Skout got crushed by the billboard)).

It’s... it’s a FUCKING WIG!?

Don Paragon: “My wig!!! sNATCHED!!!”

I know that someone already commented that it was hot to watch Toth break a sword WITH HER FOOT, but... it was Hot.

She’s just going and going. I fucking love Toth so much, I can’t wait for her to someday join the Nomad Protection Squad... she will kick ass.

DO NOT. HURT. THE LITTLE ROCK. HE IS SURRENDERING AND YOU NEED TO RESPECT THAT.

No eyes. That’s weird.

Now it’s Nomad’s turn to yeet.

The Nomad’s so goddamn small compared to everyone else (save for Skout). I... love him.

sKOUT! MY HERO!

Skout is so cute and lovely... she doesn’t want to take any of the credit, but the Nomad won’t let her forget that she’s a hero. I... love these kids.

Toth is struggling so hard to fight Skout... God, RT, please give them a happy ending by the end of this series, they deserve some happiness.

HE CONTROLLED THE STATUE WITH HIS CHEST! IT GLOWED! IS IT BECAUSE HE KNOWS THAT THE STONE’S THERE!? RT, I NEED ANSWERS!!!

Toth looked so scared before she got hit! Don’t hurt her!

The thumbs up... I love him.

I love the old dude just fuckin’ CHUGGING water like it’s alcohol... you go, old dude, you go.

The sheriff is a dad to all these kids... you can’t change my mind. Also, I used to at least find the glasses wearing kid annoying (he still kinda is) but I’m growing to like them a lot! Hope to see these kids again next season!

The Dandy Lions!!! I love them all so much, I pray to fuck they’ll be around in season 2 even though Don Paragon’s been vored.

Ah... yes... That.

I can’t... believe... that this is actual fucking vore.

Literally, El Rey said he’s “Hungry”... I’m deceased.

My reasonable sister: “Maybe we’ve taken the vore joke a bit too far?” Me: “I don’t care.”

tOTH RUN! FUCKING RUN!!!

((Yo, I’mma light this post up with ideas I’m REELING))

So his chest is still gonna glow when he does good deeds? Is it gonna restore itself/put up shields around the stone to keep it from getting damaged? I really wish we had seen what happened to the stone after episode 9- it seems like it’s fine but I’m still worried about it. Straw ain’t gonna stop a bullet, fam.

Skout and Nomad... look, I know the theory’s been more than disproved, but I still think they’ve got a good sibling-like dynamic going on. I’ve seen some folks saying that the Nomad might start acting as a dad to her and... I dunno, I just don’t see it. So I’m gonna stick with them as siblings.

And that’s that! Hyped for whenever season 2 is announced!

Me going into more detail/theories below:

The Nomad making the statue come to life DEFINITELY shows us a few things. 1, he’s getting better with his magic. Remember the watermill? Remember how terribly that went? The kid’s learning to control bigger things. SPEAKING OF WHICH- 2, he can control it! That’s wild! So ARE they at all sentient? Because in episode 5 it seemed to hint at the fact that they were their own beings, but this says otherwise. Are some sentient? Are some not? RT, I need answers.

I’m so glad that Skout saved herself this episode! Like, I was so certain that she was gonna get really hurt by that billboard, but nope! She’s up and at ‘em in no time flat! Sign me the FUCK UP for the Nomad being a damsel in distress and Skout swooping in to save him! ((Also, for those who ship Nomad/Skout... I’m really not into the ship since I spent so long thinking they were siblings, but I can’t deny that y’all got a lot of fodder this episode. Y’all have fun with that.))

El Rey communicates through crows, huh? I think... I think someone actually guessed that??? At one point??? (May’ve been on Amino), But either way, that’s fucking neat as hell! It also leaves the door open for some underhanded bullshit... imagine if during Skout and Nomad’s adventures, they come across an injured crow? They’re both sweethearts so OF COURSE they take care of it, but what is this? It talks? And it knows the way to safety? Well, let’s follow our new friend! (Cue some heartbreak).

Looks like Toth’s still on the path of evil (or at least of antagonist). I’m really psyched to see if she’ll be getting magical powers. I’ve heard a few people throwing around that lightning abilities would be cool, but what about fire? ((Mostly I wanna see fire because it could remind the Nomad of Melinda so Skout has to save him and maybe we’d get some more flashbacks??? Sign me the fuck up, fam)).

Now that we’re back on the road, I’m hoping we’ll see more bounty hunter type characters. Will they be personally hired by El Rey? Or will the bounty hunter interactions be replaced by Skout and the Nomad knowingly looking for trouble by taking on El Rey’s men? I’m excited either way.

I’m sure there’s more shit I’ll go on about later, but I’ve got work today, so I’ll wait to get into it tomorrow. With a majority of the fandom having to wait a week (or two for the Youtubers) for the new episode, it looks like this fandom’ll still be kicking for a bit before Hiatus Hell kicks in. Hopefully that means we’ll all have time to theorize (and write fics) before the new season hits! I’m so HYPED!!!