#i know i make this man suffer every time i make him fail the rescue on a lady surv

[t0bey]

Entering my cowboy main flop era just after unlocking him cries

[hyomacchi]

Karma Akabane with s/o who is exactly like tanjiro

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a/n:ahh tq anon for requesting this. Hope you saw this cause you req this on my (now)game acc . I was surprised to see that I got an assassination classroom req so early as it was my fav anime. Anyways tq anon again and I still want to confirm whether you're trying to be 🪻 anon or not.

context:karma akabane x tanjiro! s/o (pre-relationship and in relationship, no gender mentioned for s/o)

tw:torture(putting wasabi in people's nostrils)

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Pre-relationship:

❥ you and karma probably met in class 3-E

❥ when karma met you, he thought you're an interesting one like you're so pure how did you got into class 3-E?!

❥ he tease you for fun every single day but you don't mind it??(or you're just too dense)

"Hey (name)! You got a wide forehead!"

"Ah thank you! I inherited it from my father!"

❥ Remember that one time he shoves a wasabi to an assassin nostrils?

"Hey mx nice! Wanna see him suffer more or you can't bear it anymore?"

"Karma please stop doing that! That's mean!"

"But it's fun! I have more things in my bag that i want to try on him"

❥ in the end, you just brushed him off cause he just always like that

❥ after months of being friends, everytime karma did something sadistic or tease you, you just smile and let him do as please. There's no stopping him anyway.

❥ he seem surprised that you actually stay with him even though you know how his behavior is

❥ man starts teasing you more it makes others (and koro sensei) suspicious

"Man everyone knows you like them,just confess!"-Maehara

❥ everyone except you. Oh how oblivious you are

❥ after a lot of teasing from your classmates(and koro sensei) he just decided to confess to you somewhere near the woods when everybody's home (they're not, all of them peaking from a tree while koro sensei joined them)

"(name). I know this is sudden but i...love you.."

❥ i just know that you took too long to understand his words

"You don't need to reciprocate it I just wanna let it out-"

"I love you too karma!"

In relationship:

❥ nothing changed much, maybe he just became more romantic (or more annoying don't get me wrong this man will still tease even though you just don't understand what he's trying to do)

❥ overprotective over you

❥ i mean you're too kind. People might take advantage of you, that's where your boyfriend come to rescue

❥ some students try to bully you? Next time you see them, they'll be on their knees, begging for your forgiveness

❥ some punk trying to hit on you? They're missing the next day (no they're not dead)

❥ your dynamic with him is kinda funny ngl

❥ i mean kind person with their sadistic bf

❥ hand holding is a must! you guys were seen hand holding by koro sensei and oh god, karma's face is red now because of how much koro sensei tease him

"Nurufufu, Karma is actually touch starved~"

"Shut up you stupid octopus!"

❥ next thing you know, karma pulls out an anti koro sensei knife out of his pocket, trying to stab that octopus teacher (and failed)

❥ anyways..karma will always spoil you. You stare at an item for a second? Consider it's under your desk next day

❥ he don't mind outdoor or indoor dates, as long as he could spend time with you

❥ he's very grateful that you stayed with him

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another a/n:finally i finished it! It was longer than I expected so hope you'll enjoy it anon!

[humongousgothskeletonfarm]

TSC CHAPTER ELEVEN SPOILERS AHEAD

STARTING OFF THE CHAPTER STRONG AS FUCK DISASTER BISEXUAL JEAN MOREAU AWARENESS

picturing jean in a pair of raybans is good for my mental health

-

“Missed a couple spots. Need a hand?”

jeremy u flirt

-

do the trojans ever realise that jean is NOT IN FACT deaf and standing right in front of them when they are talking about him?

-

oh ok so chapter 11 is in fact worse than chapter 10

if anyone reading this has ever believed that they deserved the abuse, trauma/suffering they’ve experienced, i’m here to tell u right now that nobody deserves that and it is not ever ur fault, no matter what others might say or try to convince u. whatever happened to u is unequivocally not ok. please seek help from a professional if u are worried about urself or others in ur life.

if u have ever felt uncomfortable or violated in certain situations just know that no matter how ‘big’ or ‘small’ the situation may seem (i use these terms loosely because i do not believing in ranking peoples traumas), ur feelings are 100% valid and u always always deserve to be respected and heard.

i hope u know that u are not alone and never will be.

sending lots of love to all of u

-

wtff jenkins is a girl?? did we all know this or have i just read too many fanfics always thought jenkins was a guy?

-

It was sacrilegious even in the privacy of his head, and Jean hunched his shoulders against a blow that never came.

fuck that’s a good line. traumatic as fuck and makes me wanna cry for all these boys have gone through but god as an ex-catholic raised queer person i can tell u this line struck hard even though i cant relate to the specifics of the scene

-

Jean didn’t mind cooking, but he didn’t say that. This was the first time his room truly felt safe and right, and he was content to hold onto it for as long as he could. He closed his eyes again, but now his thoughts were snagged on Jeremy. At length he broke the silence to say, “Two beds would fit in here.”

jean moreau u are so loved

-

“You are not them,” Jean said. “Kevin would not have sent me here if you were.”

THE PARALLELS IN THIS BOOK ARE FUCKING KILLING ME PLS NORA LET ME LIVE IN PEACE THIS IS TOO MUCH FOR ME TO HANDLE

ANDREIL EXISTS IN EVERYTHING

-

Just because he had to meet with this man didn’t mean he had to speak to him.

jean, u diss aaron earlier in the books but really ur just the same as him

-

betsy dobson to the mother fuckibg rescue someone get this bitch a ‘worlds best therapist’ mug

and jean, dude do u know how fucking similar u and neil are, seriously like u guys should be besties like-

“It was not my choice,” he sent back in warning. “I do not need counseling.” He didn’t trust her at all, but there was no point spelling it out.

CHAPTER TWELVEE

dude wtf is it with me and napping while tryna finish this book, literally just accidentally fell asleep for 2.5 hrs when i could’ve been reading

-

“Imagine getting changed so we can practice,” Jean said.

king is fed uppp

-

“It’s not about size, anyway.” ​“Defensive,” Jean said, tugging his glove straps with his teeth. ​Jeremy straightened in indignation. “I don’t have anything to be defensive about.” Jean lost his grip and bit his lip, and Jeremy hurried on before either of them could think too much about that double entendre.

OKKKK JEREMY I SEE U

-

“That’s not—I do care. I want you to play with us, and I want you to have fun again. I want to see what you can do on the court and what you bring to our defense line. I want us to finally win this year after coming so close and failing too many times. But it’s just a game, Jean. Your safety and happiness will always be more important than our season.”

GOOD GOD ITS WHAT U DESERVE JEAN

-

“Every time you say that you take a year off my life. I’d really like to live to ninety, so please knock it off.”

now the trojans understand how the foxes feel when neil whips out his ‘im fine’ line,, also i’m never gonna stop saying that neil and jean should be besties it’s literally just a fact

“I do not believe you when you are drinking such filth,” Jean said, with a disapproving look toward her drink. Laila stared him down as she sucked a long gulp through the straw,

this book is so devastatingly depressing and explores some of the most horrible traumatic things that could happen to a person but it’s interspersed with some of the funniest scenes that it gives me whiplash

-

“Pat and Ananya have wanted to fuck Cody’s brains out for almost a year now. I really thought Cody moving in with them this summer was going to finally get that ball moving, but apparently not. It’s getting kind of pitiful.” ​“Pat and Ananya have been engaged almost as long as Cody has known them,” Laila pointed out as she fit herself against Cat’s side. “You can’t blame Cody for being scared of where they might belong in something like that.”

NORA GIVING US THE POLYAMORY WE DESERVE AFTER CUTTING KANDREIL FROM THE OG BOOKS LETS GO QUEER REP

YK THAT RUNNING JOKE THAT USC IS THE QUEEREST TEAM AND NOBODY HAS AS MANY GAYS AS THEY DO??? IM SO FUCKIBG HAPPY NORA HAS BASICALLY MADE THAT CANNON

-

CHAPTER 13333

jeremy is so hopelessly crushing on jean and that’s real of him

meanwhile jean:

Threat assessment, he told himself, and it was almost the truth.

sureee buddy

-

They’d arrived holding hands and dressed in matching cream-and-teal outfits. Even their gold-rimmed sunglasses and teal sneakers were identical.

well that is definitely an outfit!

-

“Speaking of happy endings, has Laila bought you a sex toy yet?”

EXCUSE ME

this whole scene was so fucking random but jean deserves great friendships

-

ANOTHER TRANS TROJAN LETS FYCKING GOOOOOO CONGRATS ON UR TOP SURGERY XAVIER

-

‘i’m sure the ravens wouldn’t have taken neil in if they’d known he was the son of a mob boss!!’

uhhhhh…

i don’t know how to tell u this buddy

-

dude i just cannot stop think about the whole new world of fanfics we’re gonna get now that tsc has come out like the aftg universe is expanding and becoming more detailed it’s gonna be crazy

chapter 14!!!

-

Jean eyed him. “For what purpose?” ​Jeremy looked to the ceiling for patience. “For fun.” ​Jean sighed as if Jeremy was the one being unreasonable.

oh jean we’ll get there eventually

-

Jean was a starving dog on a short chain who’d learned years ago not to bite back.

OH MY FUCKING GOD GIVE ME PEACE

MY CHEST IS ACHING AT THIS METAPHOR

-

SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP THE PARALLELS ARE DESTROYING ME I CANT FUCKING TAKE IT ANYMORE

“You are Jean Moreau. Your place is here with me, with us. I’m your captain. You’re my partner. We’re supposed to be doing this together, aren’t we? Stop leaving me behind. Look at me.”

-

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry that he hurt you, I’m sorry that you’re still afraid to talk about it, and I’m sorry that you think I’ll never understand. I’m sorry that he tricked you into thinking you deserved it. But I’m not sorry he’s gone. I can’t be.”

“Neither am I.”

TEAR MY HEART OUT AND STOMP ON IT NORA JESUS CHRIST

-

everytime one of the trojans says ‘we’re here to listen whenever your ready to talk and open up to us’ and then they go and demand he tell them every secret he’s ever kept

-

kevin and jeans relationship in this book is so fucking well written, it’s tearing me apart and giving me so much life

they have so much shared trauma and the relationship is so complex but they understand eachother so deeply

He is not used to having a voice, and he has never had power. I cannot promise he will ever talk to you.” ​“I will wait as long as it takes,”

“Be careful with it,” Kevin said. “Be careful with him.”

-

“Night practices with Andrew and Neil,” Kevin said. ​“Obsessed,” Jeremy

exy fiend kevin day representation

also

“No, Jean is fine. As fine as he can be, anyway. Yes, I know.” (kevin when talking to someone ‘offscreen’) i just know he was talking to neil

-

She crossed the room and leaned over, catching Jean’s head in her hands so she could plant a kiss to the top of his head.

this is the love jean deserves

chapter 15:

“Your fourth line has a smart mouth, Coach,” Jean said. “I was hoping he would bite his tongue off in the fall and save us both some grief in the long run.”

jean i love u

-

Jean wished he had the common sense to shut up,

he’s so me

-

“And keep Kevin’s name out of your ignorant mouth,”

THEYRE SO IMPORTANT TO ME UR HONOUR

-

i keep forgetting that jean only learnt english after he moved into evermore and that kevin probably taught him but i love the subtle little reminders every now and then when he has to clarify a word, like when he has to ask what a ‘floozy’ is and:

due to egregious injuries.” ​Jean didn’t recognize that word, but since Lucas was already running his mouth, he didn’t get a chance to ask.

it’s such a good detail that just adds so much more depth to his character

-

“Permission to break his face, Coach?” Jean asked. ​“Denied,” White said.

SCREAMING

THIS IS SO NEIL AND WYMACK CODED I LOVE IT

-

JEAN MOREAU ON A MOTHERFUCKING MOTORCYCLE HOLY SHIT

catalina alvarez u wonderful human i love u

-

jean realising how big the world is and the fact that he’s explored more of california than any other place he’s been before is making me tear up he never should’ve been kept trapped inside he deserves to see the world

-

So long as she existed as fractured memories, she was safe and small and sheltered.

oh god don’t do this to me

-

Jean gazed out at the endless horizon, feeling small and infinite from one moment to the next.

beautiful, just beautiful, absolutely immaculate

A cool evening breeze. Rainbows. Open roads.

A COOL EVENING BREEZE. RAINBOWS. OPEN ROADS

-

SECOND LAST CHAPTER!!! LETS GOOO

“He is not going to hit you. Okay? We don’t do that here. You said you’d try to do better and that’s enough for us.”

starting off strong

-

You’re one of my kids now.

don’t mind me i’m just sobbing

-

no no no no no no no no no

holy shit no what the fucking fuck

don’t do this to jean rn oh my fucking god i’m sick to my stomach on the verge of fully crying right now

actually dreading reading on right now

-

um ok yeah so i read it and to anyone who hasn’t finished the book yet beware there is a graphic violent scene followed by an intense panic attack in chapter 16 that’s is very difficult to read

i did cry and all i can say is thank fuck for lisinski’s timing

-

Jeremy’s response was low but unhesitating: “I will not look away.” ​“I do not want you to look.” ​It frightened him how much it sounded like a lie,

-

only redeeming part of this chapter is that neil’s back but i’m still in so much shock over what’s just happened that i cant properly appreciate him

chapter 17 the finale:

feeling incredibly somber as i reach the end of the book

please god destroy anyone who has ever hurt jean moreau

-

nora’s really filling in all the plot holes left from aftg - why did nobody question why neil’s hair was dyed after evermore ????? why did nobody question neil being at evernote in the first place???

-

i’m laughing at neil’s map print-outs he’s so uncool, also i keep forgetting this is still meant to be 2007

-

jean-yves moreau oh my fucking god

-

“says who?” Stuart asked. “The dead kid?

stuart hatford u are so funny, is this where neil inherited is sarcasm from?

stuart hatford says fuck riko and so do i

-

Neil shrugged. “Do you have anyone who can take on local work?”

NEIL JOSTEN U ARE MY HERO I LOVE U U BADASS MOTHER FUCKER

-

Neil offered her a disarming smile that would never sit quite right on his face.

devouring these scraps about my boy

-

YOOOO WTF NORA RLLY JUST WANTED TO GIVE JEAN THE WORST FUCKING DAY HE COULD POSSIBLY HAVE HUH?? JUST DROPPED THE FACT THAT HIS SISTER IS DEAD MY POOR BOY

-

Neil filled in the finer details with an ease that would have been impressive to listen to any other day

- yes neil is incredibly smart, thank u jean for confirming to us

-

The only thing left to ask for was something he barely understood: “I want to go home.”

oh the complicated nature of home and one’s sense of belonging that persists throughout these books will never fail to make me feel absolutely everything. nora knows exactly what i want in a book

-

“I can see the kitchen. There should be a door out to where the dumpsters are. We can make it back to the garage from there.”

to be loved by neil josten is to be offered a way to evade the fbi together

-

“Tedious,” Neil said. “I’m trying to eat.”

my hero

Neil waited until he was done before deciding he wanted to finish his drink. Neither agent was impressed with their absolute lack of urgency,

i love u neil josten pls give me ur autograph

Neil, being the person he was, pointed at the fire hydrant adjacent to its front bumper and said, “That’s illegal, just so you know.” ​“Shut up and get in the car.”

i wish neil josten was real

-

He couldn’t fear a government who was so easily infiltrated and manipulated

FUCK THE GOVERNMENT

-

Neil flipped his takeout box open and started eating. “I’m allowed to visit people.”

he’s everything to me 🥰

-

“You’re one to accuse others of intolerable attitudes,” Browning said, and Neil only shrugged indifference.

and—for once—without any of your usual bullshit.”

- browning u love him just like the rest of us don’t lie rn

-

ngl i’m never getting over the fact that jean and neil are the same age like this is crazy to me nora whyd u have to do this i cant cope

-

“The more people I hold onto, the less of a threat I am, because I won’t want to endanger them by acting out.”

oh neil look how far uve come, i’m so proud

-

“Lock your door tonight if it will help, but Grayson will never bother you again.”

THANK U LORD FOR THE BRILLIANT NEIL JOSTEN HES ANSWERED MY PRAYERS U BEAUTIFUL WONDERFUL HUMAN IM SO THANKFUL FOR UR PRESENCE

all my favourite bamf! neil fics have him taking out a hit on someone for the benefit of the people he loves and i’m so glad that’s canon

-

i’m going fucjing crazy i didnt think it was possible to love neil anymore than i already do

best friends ❤️

-

jean tearing up and throwing away the notebooks and realising he trusts the trojans and the four of them going to eat one of cats new recipes after they waited up last midnight for him

A COOL EVENING BREEZE RAINBOWS OPEN ROADS AND FRIENDS

!!!!!

I CSNT BELIEVE ITS OVERRRRR I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS AND FEELINGS HOLY FUCK

[queersouthasian]

I will always be so grateful to Pit Babe for portraying charliebabe as human. I will always be so grateful for not putting them in the typical boxes of red and green flags. The way with Charlie they went: "yes this man has been ignored and deprived of care and love all his childhood, he bears the scars of not being good enough, of being a waste of time, of not being "special" and way too ordinary but you know what, that neglect doesn't turn him into a sociopath, that turns him to be one of the greatest caregivers in the history of fiction, a soul who knows what it is to be not loved and thus wanna spread love and care. A soul who would jump in to rescue 'cause he can't let people suffer while they are blind to the said suffering. Yes this man has a lot of self worth issues, but when he loves he does it insanely" and we see charlie looking at a broken babe, wanting to love, he doesn't want to "fix" him but wants to "heal" him even though he may not get anything in return. He decided he would not get anything but still loves 'cause love should be selfless. It's the way he wants to give babe the world 'cause babe deserves every form of love, and charlie is going to give all the love his little soul carries. We see Charlie fall for babe 'cause babe is such a sweetheart who ks terribly broken by love but still wants to love and loving him brought in a purpose for charlie. He knows he is doomed 'cause now he will be taking away babe's powers but he is way too consumed by babe and the thought of caring and loving him. Babe triggered his natural caregiver instincts and what made him fall was the genuine adoration of babe, how he pretended but ways craved for charlie.

I love how for Babe, the show went "he just wanted to be loved and love y'all, thag was such a simple thing to ask for, but guess love is way too basic and difficult to ask for. This man carries the scars of all the times he attempted to love. How people in some way or the other caused him harm, went against his consent to "protect" him. This man thinks all the fame can erase his pain but instead it just buries it" and wee see babe struggle witb his trust issues, being forced to think charlie is another failed attempt.

I love how their struggles were so beautifully handled by the other. Charlie never gave up, everytime babe thought charlie was betraying him, he proved he didn't and that he never would. Charlie's love is so transparent and unfiltered, it is so so blissful. It's the way we see babe understand charlie's intentions better, it's the way he doesn't at all gets maf in ep 13 'cause he trusts charlie and his decisions so much. It's the way we see charlie realise the extent of babe's love, realise the effect he has in babe's life and how he is just imprinted in babe's soul.

I love how the shows draws a clear comparison of how way/tony/babe's dad went against his consent and 'caused him harm in the disguise to "protect" him and how charlie harmed himself, caused pain to himself, to save babe. The way they show charlie, by choice, decided to protect babe. I love the show also shows how babe is different for charlie. The way babe not just takes but gives too, in the same volume but different font. It's the way they show when charlie "dies", babe's grief had regret. The regret of not ever vocalising his feelings for charlie, the guilt that he most probably made charlie feel all the devotion was one sided. But it wasn't. It's the way charlie does infact takes a risk, but he goes to that extent to "fake" his death and not completely die, why? 'cause babe needs him, the need to be together is mutual, and that fueled charlie. But later realises the extent of babe's love, the relief on babe's face, babe pushing charlie away from the shooting, babe waiting for him to come back, babe telling him how he has never loved this way before makes charlie realise he is indeed special, indeed the only one in babe's life.

The way they finally find balance in their life. It's the way, time has swept by but their love didn't change, it just deepened. We see charlie way more confident in his position in babe's life and babe being vocal about his love, still perfectly subtle 'cause love doesn't have to be always loud, but vocalising enough. It's the way charlie happily hooped like a puppy with babe looking at him with that much adoration, the way they playfully tease each other, the way they openly flirt and the way charlie looks at babe basking in babe's kiss in ep 13. So goddamn human.

[avelera]

Roderick Burgess - Dream - Hob Gadling

I keep turning over the parallels between these three in my mind, worrying at the idea like a loose tooth. They are funhouse mirrors reflecting distorted images back at each other.

Burgess, Hob, and Dream have all three lost their sons, the pride and joy of their life, when their sons were young men roughly in their twenties.

Randall Burgess died in the Gallipoli campaign of World War I

Robyn Gadlen died in a tavern brawl

Orpheus died soon after his wedding night. (According to some versions of the myth, Eurydice was bitten by a snake at the wedding feast. He went down into the Underworld to rescue her. When Orpheus failed, he sang a song of mourning so poignant that it drove the Maenads of the woods mad and they tore him to pieces. There are variations on the details, but the basic timeline still implies that Dream might have been attending his son's wedding mere days or weeks before his son's death. )

Burgess asks Dream to return his son to him. Hob tells Dream of the death of his son but does not ask for him to undo it. (Then again, perhaps if Shaxberd hadn't interrupted their conversation in 1589, Hob would have had time to ask Dream if his son will be immortal too.) Dream can't resurrect his own son, much less grant that gift to Burgess. In the deeper lore, Dream faces the opposite problem, to finally let the last vestiges of his son go when his son begs to die.

Dream is immortal, except that with great effort, a part of him could be killed. Hob is immortal thanks to a bargain struck by Dream. Hob can, in theory, die if he chooses to. Hob says he will never choose to die. Burgess upon abandoning the possibility of resurrecting his son demands immortality of Dream. Dream has been the cause of one man's immortality but does not have the power to grant Burgess's wish, even if he had the inclination. Burgess begs in vain and dies at Dream's feet.

Burgess traps Dream and treats him like an object, like Dream's only purpose is to benefit Burgess. He holds him for ten years but barely speaks to him, never asks him about himself, never tries to know him, never treats him like a person. But Hob never keeps Dream. He makes no effort to bind him. They speak for a few hours once every century. Hob at first treats Dream as a master to whom he must justify his existence, and then as a person, and then as a friend. Dream at the start treats Hob like an object, like Hob's only purpose is to amuse Dream. Only once Dream has suffered in captivity, treated like an object by Burgess, does he realize Hob's value as a person and see him as a friend.

All three men are deeply flawed. They commit monstrous acts against strangers and loved ones and those who are captive under their power. Two of them learn. One of them doesn't. All three have lost their sons, their heirs. All three have confronted immortality. All three are given the chance to improve. Not all of them take it.

[pumpkincarriage3]

Rook Hunt Character Analysis

Rook is an interesting character. With his french words, that I still want to know why the apparent translation spell over the school doesn't change, and his general personality, all compile into one of the most unique characters in Twisted Wonderland.

Rook is a character, that people in universe are mostly terrified of and are unable to understand. Of course, there are a few characters that get along with him, Vil and Trey in particularly, but that isn't typically the interactions we see.

Which is in part because Rook is a hunter. He sees the beauty in everything and because of that he wants to see every side of everything. In meaning, he doesn't just want to see when people are happy and their best selves, he wants to see them in difficult situations and see how they react. To Rook, watching people as a hunter would their prey, allows him to understand them more and see their true beauty.

Which is interesting when you consider the fact that Rook is one of the most private characters in the cast. He wants to see everything about a person to see their beauty, but he isn't willing to show every part of himself. Which, in a way, reminds me a lot of Cater.

Of course, even though Rook does intentionally make some people uncomfortable, he doesn't actually want people to be upset. Even though he wants to see them for them, he also wants to see them thrive in an environment that is so entirely them, because that is what is the most beautiful to Rook. Watching people and things simply exist as themselves. So, he'll take actions to help that person, or how he sees as helping them.

It's the entire reason why Rook voted for Neige's group. It's not because he likes Neige more than Vil, Rook never said that. It's just that he knew that later the NRC boys wouldn't actually feel as if they won and instead would be unsatisfied, therefore it wasn't their win and was instead RSA's.

Rook is a character that is motivated by his curiosity by the world around him. Curiosity about how the world itself interacts with things in it. How people interact with the world. How anything interacts with anything. He wants to see it all. And since he wants to see things as they are, at their best (and worst), he is more than willing to help people be their best selves.

It's why he helps and offers console to Epel but will hunt him down when Epel runs away from lessons. Rook isn't Vil's lapdog that just does whatever he says, it's his own choice to go after Epel and drag Epel back to those lessons. Cause he feels like those lessons will show Epel's true beauty and Rook wants to see it.

Rook is completely unapologetically himself. He will call people out if he sees an issue with something. If he is doing something, it's because he wants to do it, it is not from a decision he suffered over to make. He, while kind, can be just as shady as the rest of the cast. He has been multiple times and will lie shamelessly. He has pictures, of who knows what, "hidden" behind his wallpaper in his room. He is in a villain school, this isn't surprising.

The hunter from Snow White wasn't a hero and never will be. He was fully planning on cutting up Snow White until he got cold feet, that was the whole reason he lured her out into the forest. This is the same person that Rook is based off of. He's not in RSA for a reason, no matter how kind.

Rook can also be selfish for his own desires and belief, an example of this - spoilers ahead for chapter six - is when he goes to rescue Vil. He should have been watching over the dorm since Vil wasn't there to do it, it's what the rest of Vice Dorm Leaders, and Kalim, did. But he went after Vil anyway because he cares for Vil and he wasn't about to let something happen to him. Vil yelled at him for a reason. Because he failed to do his duties for his own selfish desires, no matter how noble those desires were.

Rook is a complex character and people shouldn't boil him down to the funny french man that's a weirdo. Because that's not who Rook is as a person. He's shameless, curious, persistent, and obsessed with seeing the beauty in everything, and he's even much more than that.

[heartofspells]

Masterpost

@wolfstarmicrofic

Prompt: another world

He sits on the white bed surrounded by white walls, staring blankly at white sheets. He keeps trying to pinpoint it, attempting to remember what had gone wrong, when everything had changed. Nothing feels right anymore, but he thinks it's been that way for a while, even before this entire mess, but now everything is gone, no hope of fixing anything. He feels as though he's woken in a haze where nothing connects as it should anymore, the jigsaw pieces not lining up, some of them missing, but he can't figure out what they are no matter how hard he tries.

"Sirius?"

He startles, looking up into brown eyes, drips of honey at their edges, and Sirius frowns, still trying to remember something that will cause it all to make sense again. The eyes shift over his face, flooding with a heavy concern that Sirius wants to turn his back on, not trusting it or anything else around him now, because it hadn't worked. Everything he'd thought and hoped had failed, and now he's still stuck exactly where he's been.

"What?"

Remus hesitates, seeming wary. "Maybe we should go before someone starts asking questions," he hedges. "I'm not really meant to be here. To everyone else, we've never even met, and you've tried everything."

Sirius had. He'd gripped at his body's arm and his hand had slipped right through it as though he didn't exist. He'd shouted in his own ear, punched, kicked, raged his anger and frustration to the ward and world at large. He'd even resorted to sitting directly in the center of himself, just hoping that with enough time, his body would absorb him again. He's still here now, cross-legged, back curving forward, shoulders slumped. None of it had worked. Sirius remains disconnected, a separate entity. Sirius is nothing.

"What's the point, Remus?" he mutters sourly. "We leave here and what happens to me? I keep drifting along, disappearing a little more every day? Or what if they decide nothing can be done? They're not going to keep me here forever if nothing happens. They'll get bored of their newfound puzzle, give up the ghost." His eyes flicker to the other man, silently daring him to laugh at the turn of phrase, but Remus doesn't, simply staring down at the real version of Sirius laying immobile over the bed. "I don't have a life to go back to anymore. My family is suffering, waiting for something to happen that clearly just…isn't. You're in my home, and you've got your own family. There's nothing else for me."

"It's still your home, Sirius," argues Remus gently, "and they're still your family even if they can't see or talk to you right now. Come back with me. Willingly, not by being forced into it, because you know as soon as I walk through that door, you'll be back in that flat regardless. Don't do that to yourself again. Don't slip into that void or whatever it is you get trapped in. You're still important and we can figure this out with enough time."

"I don't have time, Remus," growls Sirius, shoulders hunching further, head bowing. "I'm losing my time. It's all slipping through my fingers because I don't exist enough to hold it anymore, so how are we meant to – " He breaks off suddenly, a gasp overtaking him as something warm touches his forehead, sending sparks racing through his entire being, lighting up his every nerve like a beacon, a signal crying out for rescue. Sirius' head snaps up and he sees Remus' fingers retreating from his prone body's face. "What was that?"

Remus stares at him with wide eyes. "Sorry. I'm – I shouldn't have," he mumbles. "I did it without thinking. There was hair trapped in your stubble. I just thought I'd – "

"Do it again," orders Sirius, his gaze narrowing on Remus who only blinks at him in bafflement. "Do it again, Remus."

Sirius watches as the other man cautiously lowers his hand, the tips of his fingers grazing along Sirius' temple. He twitches at the touch that isn't directly on himself but his body beneath him, his breath hitching a little with the contact. He's drawn away for a minute as Remus keeps touching, watching his face closely, but Sirius can't focus on it any longer. He's in a different place, a softer existence, no harsh white surrounding him, but dim lighting, faint music sounding through what he thinks are walls. There's a rattling somewhere nearby, but none of that matters because that touch is there, so electrifying it's like a rush, a cacophony of static and noise all homing down to nothing but just one thing that keeps slipping from him. It's another world where Sirius is laughing, singing, the sound of his own voice in his ears until it's not any longer, something huskier there, need growing great and strong.

When he feels that touch on his neck, Sirius startles his way out of it, everything fading to shadows in his mind. He stares at Remus, the other man still watching him, brows pinched together in curiosity, fingers over his body's neck.

"Why can't I remember?" pleads Sirius.

Remus removes his hand and reaches out, almost like an unconscious action, those same fingers skimming Sirius' jaw where he sits, lost in his own travesty. "Remember what?" he asks quietly.

Sirius shakes his head. "I don't know," he whispers, "but I think it's something important."

[loveinhollowspaces]

i have never wanted to die as much as i do now. i have never experienced having so little to live for.. i have nothing. i have been reduced to essentially nothing. there is practically zero chance i am going to heal myself/become functional in time to ever have a family. i still don't even know if i could, given the opportunity - for all i know, every other circumstance could magically align and then i would discover that the iud already ruined me..

there are so many fucked things piled on top of one another that i lose track of them. now this. which 'this' do i even mean? what the fuck has happened? i feel like i have been hit by a train and then hit and hit again.. it is hard to not question my own sanity under this much pressure and pain, and it is hard to not break under the burden of my own weakness and vulnerability. i want so much to die now but, even being nearly blinded by it, i know that pain doesn't disappear if you succeed in avoiding it - it only gets redistributed to who and what you've loved.. it only creates an echo moving forward and backward in time, out of your control now.. in this way, it probably can't ever truly be successfully avoided. i expect this is the foundation of the concept of hell.

i hate that the pain of everything makes me miss him so much, but i can't turn to him. i can't rely on him. i would give anything to be able to rely on him.. to trust him.. for him to remember me..

but how can he? it's so painful to know him and remember him in ways that i don't think he can presently allow himself to know and remember himself.. and it's painful to understand it.. to have witnessed him break under the burden and uncertainty of his own vulnerability and pain makes me want to burn this world down for what it has done to him.. if he were less innately sweet, if he possessed less innate tenderness at his core, maybe he wouldn't have developed a necessity for such impermeable jagged hardness in the conditions we now inhabit.. maybe the fear of any potential additional pain wouldn't be so all-consuming as to drive so much of his behavior.. so much of his need for control, even when the only accessible form is destruction. it's terrible to see a man's learned fear of failure overtake his god-given desire to fight for and protect all that he loves.

i would give anything to help him and i know that i cannot.. no one can. his only hope for rescue is sincere faith in himself, enough to willingly face himself and all the buried pain he carries.. his only hope is to care for himself enough to bear it, and i'm so afraid that he won't ever afford himself that genuine care long enough to realize that he actually deserves it - he doesn't have to punish himself forever for all the destruction he's wrought by punishing himself.

it's strange to feel so much second-hand pain from him and to have so little resentment/anger toward him.. maybe it's a defense mechanism of my own that i only resent the world more instead of seeing him as accountable for his own choices and reactions.. maybe this has been my betrayal against him and now i'm just reaping the consequences of buying into his vision of his own weakness. i want so much to save him, like in the awful recurring dream of the fire.. maybe all i can really do to demonstrate my sincere love for him is have faith in his capacity to develop true strength and his ability to navigate repair in his life.. and if he can't or won't, at least i won't have burned alive with him by trying to save him.. maybe i'll burn alive some other way, but at least he won't have the weight of my destruction on his soul with all the rest, and at least i wont have the burden of failing him through a lack of faith on mine.

i wonder if we'll suffer this way in every lifetime or if there's at least one where we find and remain in the peace that we've experienced glimpses of together.. if this was truly our only life, it all seems so senseless now.

[yhwhrulz777]

Morning and Evening with A.W. Tozer Devotional for July 14

Tozer in the Morning The Saint Must Walk Alone

Most of the world's great souls have been lonely. Loneliness seems to be one price the saint must pay for his saintliness.

In the morning of the world (or should we say, in that strange darkness that came soon after the dawn of man's creation), that pious soul, Enoch, walked with God and was not, for God took him; and while it is not stated in so many words, a fair inference is that Enoch walked a path quite apart from his contemporaries.

Another lonely man was Noah who, of all the antediluvians, found grace in the sight of God; and every shred of evidence points to the aloneness of his life even while surrounded by his people.

Again, Abraham had Sarah and Lot, as well as many servants and herdsmen, but who can read his story and the apostolic comment upon it without sensing instantly that he was a man "whose soul was alike a star and dwelt apart"? As far as we know not one word did God ever speak to him in the company of men. Face down he communed with his God, and the innate dignity of the man forbade that he assume this posture in the presence of others. How sweet and solemn was the scene that night of the sacrifice when he saw the lamps of fire moving between the pieces of offering. There, alone with a horror of great darkness upon him, he heard the voice of God and knew that he was a man marked for divine favor.

Moses also was a man apart. While yet attached to the court of Pharaoh he took long walks alone, and during one of these walks while far removed from the crowds he saw an Egyptian and a Hebrew fighting and came to the rescue of his countryman. After the resultant break with Egypt he dwelt in almost complete seclusion in the desert. There, while he watched his sheep alone, the wonder of the burning bush appeared to him, and later on the peak of Sinai he crouched alone to gaze in fascinated awe at the Presence, partly hidden, partly disclosed, within the cloud and fire.

The prophets of pre-Christian times differed widely from each other, but one mark they bore in common was their enforced loneliness. They loved their people and gloried in the religion of the fathers, but their loyalty to the God of Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, and their zeal for the welfare of the nation of Israel drove them away from the crowd and into long periods of heaviness. "I am become a stranger unto my brethren, and an alien unto my mother's children," cried one and unwittingly spoke for all the rest.

Most revealing of all is the sight of that One of whom Moses and all the prophets did write, treading His lonely way to the cross. His deep loneliness was unrelieved by the presence of the multitudes.

'Tis midnight, and on Olive's brow

The star is dimmed that lately shone;

'Tis midnight; in the garden now,

The suffering Savior prays alone.

'Tis midnight, and from all removed

The Savior wrestles lone with fears;

E'en the disciple whom He loved

Heeds not his Master's grief and tears.

William B. Tappan

He died alone in the darkness hidden from the sight of mortal man and no one saw Him when He arose triumphant and walked out of the tomb, though many saw Him afterward and bore witness to what they saw. There are some things too sacred for any eye but God's to look upon. The curiosity, the clamor, the well-meant but blundering effort to help can only hinder the waiting soul and make unlikely if not impossible the communication of the secret message of God to the worshiping heart.

Sometimes we react by a kind of religious reflex and repeat dutifully the proper words and phrases even though they fail to express our real feelings and lack the authenticity of personal experience. Right now is such a time. A certain conventional loyalty may lead some who hear this unfamiliar truth expressed for the first time to say brightly, "Oh, I am never lonely. Christ said, I will never leave you nor forsake you,' andLo, I am with you alway.' How can I be lonely when Jesus is with me?"

Now I do not want to reflect on the sincerity of any Christian soul, but this stock testimony is too neat to be real. It is obviously what the speaker thinks should be true rather than what he has proved to be true by the test of experience. This cheerful denial of loneliness proves only that the speaker has never walked with God without the support and encouragement afforded him by society. The sense of companionship which he mistakenly attributes to the presence of Christ may and probably does arise from the presence of friendly people. Always remember: you cannot carry a cross in company. Though a man were surrounded by a vast crowd, his cross is his alone and his carrying of it marks him as a man apart. Society has turned against him; otherwise he would have no cross. No one is a friend to the man with a cross. "They all forsook Him, and fled."

The pain of loneliness arises from the constitution of our nature. God made us for each other. The desire for human companionship is completely natural and right. The loneliness of the Christian results from his walk with God in an ungodly world, a walk that must often take him away from the fellowship of good Christians as well as from that of the unregenerate world. His God-given instincts cry out for companionship with others of his kind, others who can understand his longings, his aspirations, his absorption in the love of Christ; and because within his circle of friends there are so few who share inner experiences, he is forced to walk alone. The unsatisfied longings of the prophets for human understanding caused them to cry out in their complaint, and even our Lord Himself suffered in the same way.

The man who has passed on into the divine Presence in actual inner experience will not find many who understand him. A certain amount of social fellowship will of course be his as he mingles with religious persons in the regular activities of the church, but true spiritual fellowship will be hard to find. But he should not expect things to be otherwise. After all he is a stranger and a pilgrim, and the journey he takes is not on his feet but in his heart. He walks with God in the garden of his own soul - and who but God can walk there with him? He is of another spirit from the multitudes that tread the courts of the Lord's house. He has seen that of which they have only heard, and he walks among them somewhat as Zacharias walked after his return from the altar when the people whispered, "He has seen a vision."

The truly spiritual man is indeed something of an oddity. He lives not for himself but to promote the interests of Another. He seeks to persuade people to give all to his Lord and asks no portion or share for himself. He delights not to be honored but to see his Savior glorified in the eyes of men. His joy is to see his Lord promoted and himself neglected. He finds few who care to talk about that which is the supreme object of his interest, so he is often silent and preoccupied in the midst of noisy religious shoptalk. For this he earns the reputation of being dull and overserious, so he is avoided and the gulf between him and society widens. He searches for friends upon whose garments he can detect the smell of myrrh and aloes and cassia out of the ivory palaces, and finding few or none, he, like Mary of old, keeps these things in his heart.

It is this very loneliness that throws him back upon God. "When my father and my mother forsake me, then the Lord will take me up." His inability to find human companionship drives him to seek in God what he can find nowhere else. He learns in inner solitude what he could not have learned in the crowd - that Christ is All in All, that He is made unto us wisdom, righteousness, sanctification and redemption, that in Him we have and possess life's summum bonum.

Two things remain to be said. One, that the lonely man of whom we speak is not a haughty man, nor is he the holier-than-thou, austere saint so bitterly satirized in popular literature. He is likely to feel that he is the least of all men and is sure to blame himself for his very loneliness. He wants to share his feelings with others and to open his heart to some like-minded soul who will understand him, but the spiritual climate around him does not encourage it, so he remains silent and tells his griefs to God alone.

The second thing is that the lonely saint is not the withdrawn man who hardens himself against human suffering and spends his days contemplating the heavens. Just the opposite is true. His loneliness makes him sympathetic to the approach of the brokenhearted and the fallen and the sin-bruised. Because he is detached from the world, he is all the more able to help it. Meister Eckhart taught his followers that if they should find themselves in prayer and happen to remember that a poor widow needed food, they should break off the prayer instantly and go care for the widow. "God will not suffer you to lose anything by it," he told them. "You can take up again in prayer where you left off and the Lord will make it up to you." This is typical of the great mystics and masters of the interior life from Paul to the present day.

The weakness of so many modern Christians is that they feel too much at home in the world. In their effort to achieve restful "adjustment" to unregenerate society they have lost their pilgrim character and become an essential part of the very moral order against which they are sent to protest. The world recognizes them and accepts them for what they are. And this is the saddest thing that can be said about them. They are not lonely, but neither are they saints.

Tozer in the Evening BROTHERHOOD OF THE REDEEMED

Anyone making even a quick review of Genesis will discover that God has told us more about His presence in creation and in history than about the details of human civilization. We believe that eternity dwells in the Person of God and that the material universe came into being through God's creation. The first man and woman in the human race were created. They failed in their initial encounter with Satan, our archenemy. Following that, the Genesis record becomes a narrative of human failure against the abiding backdrop of God's faithfulness. God Himself, through the Holy Spirit, points out a universal problem: the natural brotherhood of human beings is a sinful brotherhood. It is the brotherhood of all who are spiritually lost. But the Bible has good news. It is the revelation of a new brotherhood, the brotherhood of the redeemed! We know it in our time as the believing church of our Lord Jesus Christ in all nations. It is a new brotherhood among men based on regeneration -and restoration!

Copyright Statement This material is considered in the public domain.

[josiebelladonna]

g*psy shows up on alex’s livestream the first time in may 2021 and he freezes faster than my 10 year old laptop on a hot day.

she shows up again a week later and my mom has a fall that made her feet swell up.

i check out her ig to see what she’s like and a week later, i suffer from heat exhaustion.

i check her out again some time later, and a week later, i have a panic attack.

she’s in the florida man video and i get locked out of my redbubble account.

she comes up in one of alex’s posts last june and a month later, ig screws me and everyone else over by trying to emulate tiktok and i have another anxiety episode.

she films the live broadcast of moods and modes, plus, i fall down the proverbial rabbit hole and find her blog as well as all the old planetary coalition posts, and i get a stomach bug.

she joins alex in seeing lewis black and i get the bug again. plus, he starts acting very strangely (like… frantic, and a lot more sweary (?) than usual).

i start having these sneaking suspicions about her because everything about her gives me the weirdest feeling (re: “couples who are happy together will be seen together”, plus, the respect should be congruent inside and out: if you claim to respect them while in private but out in the open, you talk about them as if they’re your coworker, it makes it so hard for me to believe this; re: “you put it where the world can see, you make it my business”), and a couple of weeks later, jeff beck dies and it hits alex like a freight train.

alex starts paying closer attention to me, especially after i start seasons grey, and outright starts making fun of his relationship with her at one point… and she starts appearing more. 

she starts appearing more and we get a shitload of snow and rain out here: my mom and i get snowed in, not once, not twice, but three fucking times. my stepbrother and his girlfriend also leave unannounced. 

i start making serious headway on seasons grey and she gets on a post about a rescue cat, saying how he “failed to care for the other fosters” making it sound like he’s the bad guy for having a job and working his tuckus off every day as if she’s an overworked housewife (pffff, not even; do i believe men should throw their weight around? absolutely. but saying he “failed” is really unfair to him, especially when you have a bunch of irons in the fire yourself, hypocritical cunt)

a week later, his mom falls ill and he’s a.w.o.l. from social media for the most part (understandable), but then he’s absent for a whole week save for a couple of posts on stories (ain’t no social media break, i can tell you that now), and then he starts acting even weirder than he did around christmas—to the point of actually looking differently.

i start pointing the aforementioned out and i learn that my mom and i could lose our house.

i see her in the comments on his photography account and my mom learns she won’t have a new assignment at her job at least until the 31st, causing us to make use of over a thousand bucks for the foreseeable few weeks so we don’t starve or sit in the dark.

i go back to him saying he’s returned to testament and see that he chose her over me when i left my light on for him after beck died because i knew he was wrecked (and he acknowledged it, too), and… it’s an unspoken reason as to why i had my breakdown on the solstice and i signed off from instagram for a week—signed off all the way, too, removed it from my tablet and didn’t go to the browser version. i didn’t poke my head in, nothing. a genuine mental health break. i never said anything about this because i simply thought this was implied.

i see her in a post from him AGAIN after i returned to instagram and we get a bird, two lizards, and now a bat in the house (worse, i don’t know where it is 😳 i just saw it flying around in ceiling when i went to bed last night). plus, a short but awful heat wave! 

oh, and i see that alex is a.w.o.l. again (could just be recording stuff for the trio and testament, but i know he would at least make note of it, though). and the thing to counterpoint that? i found out that my checking account went kaput because i hadn’t used it in so long and i had to go and claim the money that was in there. took me most of the day yesterday, and it’s why i hadn’t updated any fics, either.

i am legitimately starting to think this woman is a bad omen.

[e-devotion]

Paul tripp on Proverbs

The following is a newsletter from an incredible writer that I have been following for some time.  His name is Paul Tripp, and his books on church and leadership are incredible.  In light of my commitment to read Proverbs every day and encouraging others to do the same, this article is very good.  Check out Tripp’s latest “Wednesday Word” about Proverbs …

Proverbs 15:1

“A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” 

The Bible tells us that harsh words create problems rather than solve them. I know you have experienced this in your life! Maybe it’s during a difficult but necessary conversation with your spouse at the end of a stressful day. You think you’re making progress, but they throw in a nasty comment. Your chest tightens, your body temperature rises, and your mind starts racing, searching for an equally ugly retort.

Suddenly, what started as a productive, unity-building conversation has ended in anger, distance, and silence.

Or maybe your child’s selfishness has been revealed, and God, in his rescuing mercy, has given you a divine opportunity to expose the idols of their heart. But sadly, your sin gets in the way, and you use words in a manner that ignores Ephesians 6:4—“Fathers, do not provoke your children to anger.”

Your harsh vocabulary selection has escalated hostility and defensiveness rather than producing an atmosphere of receptivity and confession that a gentle correction might have cultivated.

And now, since everyone has a smartphone, YouTube and social media are loaded with videos of complete strangers getting into scary altercations on the road, in supermarkets, or at sports games because of a single harsh word!

But does a soft answer turn away wrath, 100% of the time, unequivocally, without fail? The writer of Proverbs isn’t giving us a guaranteed solution that every time I speak a gentle word to an angry person, I will experience harmony. You know that to be true!

You see, God has not included the Proverbs in Scripture to be used in a mechanical, machine-like way. You can’t turn one cogwheel and expect the rest to rotate in sync. But many of us try to apply the Proverbs to our lives in this way.

It’s similar to what I wrote last week: we treat these verses as isolated, individual nuggets of wisdom in a pile, picking away at them in the hopes of finding something applicable for the moment.

If we study the Proverbs like this, we’ll miss the richness contained in the book. Instead, embedded in each Proverb is the plotline of the whole Biblical story: Creation, Fall, and Redemption.

Creation: The Proverbs points us to the perfect world as God designed it to be. As you read the Proverbs, you ought to marvel at the beauty of God’s original plan while mourning over the loss of that world.

Fall: The Proverbs remind us of the reality that foolishness is everywhere, that temptation exists, and that dark dangers threaten us at every turn. As you read the Proverbs, you ought to be placed on high alert.

Redemption: For the children of God, the Biblical story ends wonderfully. This terribly damaged world will be restored by grace and reconciled by God’s goodness. As you read the Proverbs, you ought to be joyful and hopeful, looking forward to the renewal of all things.

So how would you re-read Proverbs 15:1 in light of this narrative?

In the beginning, words were perfect. God and man spoke freely, and Adam and Eve never uttered a harsh word to each other.

Then the fall happened, and words were used to tempt, blame, and curse.

1 Peter 2:23

And then arrived Christ: “When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly.” 

Because Christ used words perfectly, we will one day enjoy peace and harmony forever and ever! That’s the redemptive narrative embedded into Proverbs 15:1, and while we aren’t guaranteed to get a favorable reaction today, it will happen someday. And because we’re headed in that direction, we will experience blessing along the way for doing as God commands.

This is how the Proverbs are designed, exploding with more profound meaning and encouragement than any mechanical, isolated nugget could ever provide.

[panharmonium]

okay, let’s just recap.

three years ago, little kakashi came to the third hokage and said “your second-in-command is plotting to assassinate you.  i know this because he encouraged me to steal confidential documents about your whereabouts so he could ambush you on your next journey.”  danzo made the predicted attempt on sarutobi’s life; it failed because of kakashi’s intel; and then when sarutobi got back to his office and saw danzo sitting in his chair prematurely celebrating his supposed death, sarutobi did...nothing.  the most powerful man in the village looked away, and danzo retained all of his power and suffered no consequences.

three years after that, teenage kakashi comes to the third hokage again - beaten, bleeding, poisoned - and says “your second-in-command just tried to kill me.  i’m afraid he’s going to retaliate against the child who refused to finish the job.”  when he begs the most powerful man in the village to do something about this, sarutobi is almost...TAKEN ABACK at being asked to act.  he hesitates, sighs, and eventually, finally, sends yugao to the foundation with a note for danzo to come see him.

a note.

so kakashi - who knows that danzo got away with this shit before, who knows that the foundation’s sentries are just going to brush yugao off, who knows that a note is not going to save yamato in time - takes matters into his own hands.  the third hokage tells him to go to the hospital, and kakashi lies to him, saying that he will.  “yes, sir,” he says, and then he goes straight to the foundation, where he breaks into the forbidden facility, incapacitates danzo’s guards, rescues yamato from the lab where he’s lying shackled to an examination chair, and attempts to fight all of danzo’s forces AND danzo himself on his way out the door.  he literally confronts konoha’s equivalent of the vice president (a man who just tried to have kakashi killed), after lying to the actual president, while trespassing in bowels of the cia.  he commits TREASON.  he breaks every rule on the books, because THOSE WHO BREAK THE RULES ARE SCUM, BUT THOSE WHO ABANDON THEIR FRIENDS ARE WORSE THAN SCUM.

and then, when sarutobi finally does show up (at which point he witnesses danzo attacking two young teenagers, when he already knows that danzo tried to have kakashi murdered for as-yet-unclear reasons), the most powerful man in the village once again does NOTHING.  he uses the situation to leverage yamato out of the foundation, and once the valuable wood-style user is in his own hands (how convenient for him), he lets everything else go, saying “we’ll consider this settled amicably.”  he doesn’t hold danzo accountable for a single thing.  there are NO consequences to anything danzo did.  sarutobi KNOWS yamato is a product of orochimaru’s experiments, and he doesn’t ask danzo a single thing about that.  he KNOWS danzo ordered a hit on kakashi, and he lets him walk away with all of his power and resources intact - while kakashi is right there watching!  danzo tried to have kakashi killed, and the third hokage knows he did that, and it doesn’t matter.  

what does that tell kakashi about how little his life is worth?  how expendable is he, how insignificant is his suffering, that one of the village’s leaders can just make an attempt on his life without fear of reprisal?  how unimportant is kakashi, ultimately, if the village’s second-in-command can try to have him murdered, and the first-in-command can just handwave it away and tell kakashi to forget it happened?  

the fact that kakashi in the present day continues to suffer for this man’s sins (and the fact that i suspect he’s also going to end up being the person responsible for cleaning up this man’s mess) makes me so frustrated.  kakashi, when he was just a CHILD, gave the hokage everything he needed to put a stop to danzo’s misdeeds long before his crimes culminated in the uchiha massacre.  kakashi came to the third hokage again and again with proof of serious abuses; he sounded the alarm, once, twice; he gave the third hokage all the information necessary to stop this train before danzo drove it off a cliff.  the third hokage knew - because kakashi told him so - that danzo ordered kakashi to steal confidential documents, that he tried to have sarutobi assassinated, that he tried to have teenage kakashi killed, that he was secretly in possession of a wood-style user who had been kidnapped by orochimaru as an infant and experimented upon.  it’s not like sarutobi didn’t believe these accusations - he knew they were true.  he just actively chose to let all of it slide.  he kept danzo at his side, kept looking the other way, until his leniency (his cowardice) led to a genocide.

sarutobi is the hokage.  he’s the most powerful man in the village.  he’s the one with the ability and the authority to stop his subordinates from hurting other people, and when it’s brought to his attention - multiple times, by a child - that danzo is, in fact, hurting other people, it’s sarutobi’s responsibility to DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT.  kakashi is just a teenager, one whose own life is in such a shambles it’s a miracle he’s even functional enough to take this amount of action; and he’s been targeted by danzo specifically because he’s so vulnerable - when a foundation ninja tells danzo that attacking a member of the uchiha to steal the sharingan will be high-risk, danzo responds, “there is one with the sharingan who is not an uchiha, who has neither parents nor teachers” - ie, there’s someone out there who is all alone.  kakashi has no parents to take care of him, no teachers to protect him, no clan to back him up.  he’s targeted because he doesn’t have the power or the connections of the uchiha clan, and because danzo thinks no one will kick up a fuss or ask inconvenient questions when he “accidentally” dies in the field.  kakashi is the injured antelope separated from the herd.  he’s what danzo sees as an easy mark.  it’s easier to murder an orphaned, sensei-less teenager than it is to take on one of the the most powerful clans in the village, and danzo, expecting that sarutobi will avert his eyes from most of his dirty work, is not afraid to attempt to kill a child and loot his body for parts.

it’s infuriating to me, how right danzo is about this.  kakashi begs the third hokage for help, and sarutobi responds with the absolute least amount of assistance possible.  he’s worse than useless.  he’s worse than danzo, even, because he’s so self-deluded.  danzo is evil, but he doesn’t lie to himself about who and what he is - whereas the third hokage, on the other hand, genuinely sees himself as a benevolent patriarch who loves his people and “takes care” of the village’s children, when really he’s a coward who lets orochimaru and danzo get away with murder.  

kakashi, as a child, goes far beyond the scope of his own responsibilities in order to stop danzo from hurting people, long before things get to the point where we’re at now.  he does everything within his limited power, and whenever he takes his concerns to the person who’s truly responsible for dealing with the situation, the third hokage is like “thanks for bringing this to my attention; don’t worry; i’ll handle it from here.”  but after the crisis, behind the scenes, sarutobi’s version of “handling it” just looks like letting danzo continue to do whatever he wants, up until the moment when danzo exterminates an entire ethnic group, at which point it’s too late.  AND THEN SARUTOBI COVERS FOR HIM, EVEN THEN.

kakashi has spent his entire life picking up messes that the third hokage made, and i do mean his Entire Life - sarutobi was hokage during the previous generation’s time, too, and he clearly was just as unwilling to intervene when one of his most respected jonin was being publicly harassed and driven to suicide as he is about everything happening in the present day.  sarutobi has spent decades declining to act when the situation called for courage, and his legacy is precisely what kakashi describes to tazuna in the land of waves arc: “to know what is right and choose to ignore it is the act of a coward.”  

i hate the idea that kakashi is probably going to have to spend even more of his life cleaning up after this man, but he’s the only person i trust to do it right.  and that’s a sentiment i suspect will be shared by the “wood-style user” whom kakashi rescues immediately after the end of the above gifset, because - and i say this with full offense intended to sarutobi - sending a NOTE to someone who just tried to murder a child doesn’t cut it.

[ghoul333]

serial lover

chapter one(?)

pairing: billy x f!reader

wc: 2.8k

summary: billy wants to kill you, but you change his mind last minute.

warnings: angst, murder, swearing, fluff(?)

a/n: i used both their point of views so i hope it came out alright. i definitely want to write another chapter. hope you enjoy! <3

He looked at you from afar. Lurking in the bushes, watching your every move. It was pretty much turning into a daily routine. He wanted you, bad. Billy was heavily debating when to break in one of these nights to kill you. Lucky for him, tonight might be the night, your parents weren't home and your siblings were nowhere to be seen. Just you, sitting pretty on your bed and staring at the ceiling.

You were the perfect victim. It had been a few years since the first killing spree in Woodsboro. Everything for the most part had gone back to normal. They thought about it for a while, and considering they had succeeded the first time, Billy and Stu decided to give it another go. Only for this job was Billy on his own, Stu being with his girlfriend.

A kind, innocent girl like you? That would be fun. Though you had never wronged the pair, you were somewhat of a loner. Quiet but willing to help when needed. Might've been a distasteful move, but damn was Billy eager to hear what your screams sounded like.

And now that you were alone, it was the perfect time to play a game.

Only you weren't.

Your brother in law, Ian, was in the living room, watching a hockey game.

Billy got into a stance when he saw you getting up from the bed, figuring you would leave the room. Instead, you paced in circles. He looked down at your hands, you were flicking your index finger against your thumb, as if it was out of anxiety. You seemed to be contemplating something.

You looked at yourself in the mirror. Billy having to duck down so you wouldn't spot him. It would be a different story if he was dressed up as himself, you two were acquainted after all, having one or two classes together. But he wasn't exactly 'himself' right now, he was Ghostface. Though he and Ghostface were one in the same, you didn't know that. You would only see a masked psycho hiding in your bushes.

He was about to pick up his cellphone to call your house phone, but something stopped him. His hand was frozen in place. When he looked back to you, he noticed a change in your expression.

You were crying in the mirror.

Billy cocked his head. What the fuck was this? One minute you're fine and seemingly calm. Then the next minute you're crying as if something traumatic happened.

He raised his brows, surprised when you stopped crying immediately, as if on cue. Your eyes had been glossy but were now completely dry.

Holy shit. Where did you learn that? He thought.

You didn't look sad anymore. In fact there was no emotion at all and for some reason, Billy loved it.

—

You wiped the tears off your face and stared at yourself in the mirror. Taking a deep breath.

Was that believable?  I think so.

A part of you wished you had someone here to let you know, but this was something you needed to do by yourself. You didn't even know if you were gonna go through with it, but the urge wouldn’t leave your mind.

Hearing a loud cheer from the other room, you groaned in disgust. You had a hard time believing your family would leave Ian here with you. Especially after all the shit you've taken from him.

You could confidently say that you hated your brother in law. Your sister disappointed you, putting up with trash like him and you resented your family for tolerating it for as long as they have. For over a year, he had lived in your house. Being nothing but a bum. Always being a fucking asshole to you and your family, then making you feel like shit when you call him out.

He could get away with it too. The fact your father was rarely in town made it easy and you hated it. You hated him. You wanted him gone, for good.

You knew there was only one way. No matter how many fights, he wouldn't leave. Refused to.

If he was gone, everything would be fine. It'd take time for some people to heal, but this was for the best.

Thinking about it put a smile on your face. Even though the inhuman thoughts ashamed you, you couldn't help but let them excite you at the same time. Never in your life had you wanted to do something like this, but you craved to see that piece of shit suffer. This would be the only time, and hopefully you wouldn't get caught.

You opened up your drawer, pulling out some scissors, studying them for a few seconds before putting them back.

You weren't ready to get blood on your hands. You looked around your room, trying to find something easy and simple. You looked down at your rack of shoes. Suddenly, an idea popped into your head.

You pulled the lace from one of your old sneakers, you'd have to dump them afterwards but you wouldn't miss them. While you wrapped the string around both your hands, something came over you. You didn't even realize you were walking to the living room, until you were standing right behind him while he watched his game. At that point, your body was doing the talking. Fuck what was actually right. Fuck morals.

Billy watched all this, following your every move. He cursed himself for not noticing the other obvious person in the house. How stupid. If he decided to pursue you there was a greater chance he wouldn't get away. Stu would've had to come. You kind of saved him there.

Seeing the single shoelace in your grip and standing so close behind Ian, he was actually anticipating your next move. Which surprised him, you had him on the edge of his seat. You had opened his eyes in those last few minutes. You had him so confused.

He had been watching you for days, basically knew your day and night routine. So, where did this come from? You put on an act, even for yourself?

He couldn't deny he thought you were, somewhat, adorable. Many victims had been adorable, but being adorable doesn't mean shit to Billy. If he wanted to gut you, he would.

There were times where you would just sit and stare into a void, but he didn't really think anything of it. He didn't realize how fucked up in the head you really were.

He couldn't kill you now, definitely not. You were turning out to be just as insane as he was. Billy felt drawn to you. He was rooting for you.

You stood there long enough for Ian to notice your presence behind him. Not even turning around, he opened his mouth.

"What the fuck do you wa-" He didn't even get to finish his sentence before you wrapped the shoelace around his neck, attempting to strangle him.

Hearing him speak irritated the fuck out of you. You'd rather cut your own ears off, but why do that? He should just simply stop talking.

He was strong, but you gave yourself props for not wearing socks, your feet were planted firmly on the ground, and they weren't going anywhere. His arms were violently swinging, voice coming out in gargles. How long did I need to do this for? Maybe a plastic bag would've been easier.

It felt like forever until he quit moving. Eventually, his arms fell limp and his breathing stopped. You stood there for a moment, the lace still wrapped around him. Had you killed him?

You decided you wanted to be sure, jerking the shoelace against his neck just one more time.

Suddenly his arm flew up, grabbing the shoelace and trying to jerk your body forward. You begin to struggle against him, pulling the lace as tight as you could so he couldn't grip it, but he was able to overpower you within seconds. Yanking you over the sofa he had been sitting on, you groaned in pain as your back hit the floor. The air being knocked out of you.

Where did that adrenaline come from?

Watching you flip like that, for some reason, worried Billy. Even he thought you had him. He couldn't let this happen, he felt the strong urge to come to your rescue. Sure, some random guy dying by the hands of ghostface didn't fit the route they were trying to take, but Billy was going to protect you tonight. He needed to.

He quickly got up from where he was crouched, beginning to creep his way towards the house. He figured he needed to move fast considering how much smaller you were compared to the man you were trying to murder.

"You little fucking bitch!" Ian managed to seethe, voice extremely hoarse. He got up from where he was standing and grabbed you by the hair, making you cry out pain. Billy heard the commotion from outside, and the sound he'd been wanting to hear. He didn't like it. Why?

Why did it make him angry to hear you in pain?

You wanted to avoid eye contact with Ian, but he yanked your hair again, making you face him. The look in his eyes seemed hungry, and not in a good way.

He gave you a vile smile, before slapping you across the face, making you tumble to the floor once again. You slowly reached up, touching your cheek. A single tear threatened to fall but you quickly blinked it away. It burned, almost vibrating from the impact. You knew the slap was hard enough for blood to come through.

Fuck.

You figured you were screwed, if you knew he was gonna grab you like that you would've just duct taped him to the coach. You really did not think this one through, even though you had been thinking about it for months on end.

You felt his body heat centimeters away from you. Looking up at him, he hovered over you.

"Thank you for finally giving me a reason to do that." He said, his tone spilling venom. "I'm gonna enjoy this."

You just stared at him, you weren't scared or upset. You couldn't even be mad, you just attempted to strangle your sisters husband. What could've been expected? You probably didn't have a great chance of succeeding anyway, but you couldn't fight your urges anymore.

People like him deserved death.

You didn't have time to process another thought before Ian picked you up, throwing you against the wall. You yelped as your side impacted harshly against the wood floor. You didn't even want to look at him anymore, you had failed and were probably gonna die, or get beat into a coma.

You didn't feel him grab you again. You didn't feel him pin you against the wall. You didn't feel the corner of the table next you digging into your side. You didn't feel anything. Not even the tears falling from your eyes.

"Don't cry now darling," He whispered in your ear, you shuddered in disgust. "This is what you wanted."

His voice made you want to vomit. Cigarettes and cheap beer leaking off his tongue. Even with him up to your ear, you could smell it. He was so fucking close. Everything about this man made you sick. You couldn't understand how your sister slept beside this thing at night.

He held your body against his while he shifted his hands. They wrapped around your throat and squeezed, very hard. You couldn't breathe. You wanted to just let it happen but your body was thinking ahead of you, once again. You grabbed his hands, trying to pry him off.

You actually couldn't fucking breathe. You were going to die, staring into this mans lifeless eyes, hearing his heaving breathing...his body pressed against yours. You would rather get stabbed to death. Or burned alive. You just didn't want him to be the last thing you saw before you died. You didn't want to die.

I fucked up.

Maybe you were selfish too. You were better off just hurting yourself to ease the pain. You couldn't get him off you and it was painful. Your vision was starting to blur.

You used your feet to try and push him off you, but your attempts failed.

Unexpectedly, you fell to the floor with a thud. You quickly inhaled a large breath of air, a small coughing spell following. You couldn't hear or see anything in that moment, just trying to get up, desperately trying to regain your strength.

Breathing had never felt so good.

Weak and in pain, you used one hand to guide your way up the wall, while the other one held your throat. As you regained your vision and started to focus on your surroundings, you began to hear struggling. Lots of struggling. You were confused, you thought it was just the both of you. As you looked up, you noticed a cloaked figure on top of  Ian.

Billy had gotten into the house from your laundry room window, finding the entrance a few days ago when he was planning how he would kill you. He crept in, being as quiet as a ghost. When he turned the corner, he saw Ian pressing you deep against the wall. He watched you struggle and fight, a few tears falling from your eyes.

He tackled your brother in law to the floor, making him lose his grip on you. Billy managed to gain the upper hand quickly, getting on top of him and wrapping his hands around his throat. Ian kicked his legs, but it did no good. Billy was too far up on his chest, sinking all his body weight onto him.

You stood there and watched. You were confused and shocked on what was happening, on where this guy came from. You looked down, noticing a knife next to the person in the black cloak. You begin to panic a little inside, wondering whether this person was saving your life or here to take you both out.

It only then hit you that the knife and the black costume seemed way too familiar.

Oh shit...It can't be.

Was this, The Ghostface?

From what you and the rest of Woodsboro knew, that killer who committed all those murders years ago was supposed to be dead. So what was he doing here?

You snapped back into reality when you heard Ian trying to speak. Looking at the both of them, you saw Ian's arms swing violently once again. Billy had managed to dodge most the swings, his arms steadily pressing down on Ian's throat. He did take a few hits to the face though, but he had been through worse.

It wasn't until he started reaching for the mask.

Billy could only lean back so far, if he tried anymore Ian would gain the upper hand in a matter of seconds. He usually didn’t care, since they were going to be dead anyway, but he wasn’t going to kill you.

You noticed what was happening, even with Ghostface's back turned to you. You slowly crept your way towards them, until you could see Ian's face again.

His eyes were wide as plates and his skin looked tight as the killer pushed down on his throat. Ian's eyes snapped to you, making Billy turn his head a little to see you in his peripheral vision. You could tell by the look in Ian's eyes that he wanted your help.

Tough shit.

You slowly walked around the two, Ian was convinced you were gonna help him, beginning to reach for the mask again, fingers brushing the mouth, trying to find a grip. You kneeled, grabbing Ian's arms, pinning him down. Your gazed flickered towards the mask killer, to find he was already looking in your direction.

You decided to flash him a smile. Though you couldn't see behind that mask, Billy had the same expression.

You lowered your body down, until your mouth was leveled with Ian's ear. He was trying to fight against you, but he had no more strength. He was done for.

"See you in hell, fat shit." You spoke into his ear.

Gargles could only be heard, and the hockey game playing on the tv was basically non existent. The life Ian once had, was now gone. You slowly stood up, ghostface doing the same. You both looked at his lifeless body.

“I don’t know whether I should say thank you, or start running.” You said, letting out a laugh. It hurt like hell to speak. Your eyes moved to the masked killer and once again, he was already looking at you.

You both stared at each other for a few seconds, before he took a step closer to you. You didn’t back up, and for some reason you didn’t feel afraid. Billy reached out his hand, lightly touching your throat.

You weirdly didn’t mind the feeling, you weren’t scared of his touch, in fact, it was very gentle.

His hand trailed up, cupping the cheek that had been slapped. His thumb lightly rubbed your cheek and you couldn’t help but sigh.

“Thank you.” You told him, but he didn’t say anything. You knew he couldn’t speak, he wasn’t gonna let you find out who he was. If you recognized the voice or didn’t there was still a chance.

A car pulling up into the driveway made you and Billy snap your attention to the front of the house. He looked at you once again, seeing the fear in your eyes. He had to help you out some more, and you couldn’t be awake for it to work.

“I’m sorry.” Billy lowly mumbled, before knocking you unconscious.

[buckybarnesowl]

It Never Ends - Chapter 4

Pairing: College!AU Bucky x fem! Reader

Series description: Bucky and Y/n are fourth-year undergrads with the same major. They’ve always had a crush on each other but were too reserved to do anything about it. One horrendous night pushes them together and they’re forced to navigate the fallout, for better or worse.

Series warnings: 18+!!! This series is not for minors. The main plot line is based around sexual assault/rape themes and the fallout that comes from that type of trauma. Please if you are not 18+ do not engage. You are responsible for your own media consumption.

A/n: I’ve decided I'll likely fail the Whumptober completion. I felt the prompts were forcing the story into an unrealistic direction and I want to do this justice. It might take longer than expected, but I will finish this series.

Please take care when reading this. As a survivor (multiple times over) I know how reading stories like this can be triggering without even realizing it. If anyone wants/needs to talk don’t hesitate to send me a message. Love you all. Thanks to everyone for reading and commenting and reblogging so far.

Chapter 4 warnings: blood, violent fighting, swearing and derogatory slurs, reference to non-con, trauma, anxiety

Chapter 4 word count: 3k

Chapter 4 prompts:

No. 3 - STICKS AND STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT… taunting | insults | “Who did this to you?”

No. 5 - I’VE GOT RED IN MY LEDGER betrayal | misunderstanding | broken nose

No. 19 - JUST A SCRATCH bitten | bleeding | stabbing

Previous Chapter | Series Masterlist | Masterlist

Bucky could feel the crick forming in his neck and stiffness in his back before he even opened his eyes. He stopped the groan from leaving his lips when he remembered where he was. Not wanting to wake Y/n, he slowly freed his hand from hers, freezing when she stirred. She rolled over and Bucky only continued moving once he was certain her breath had evened out once more. With the stealth of a trained assassin, he gathered all his things and left the three roommates sleeping.

The campus was unsurprisingly dead for just past 7:00 a.m. on a Sunday. The cold morning air whipped his cheeks as Bucky left the dorm building. He should have walked straight to his dorm and caught up on sleep. It was the final week of classes before Thanksgiving break which meant mid-term assignments. And he needed all the rest he could get after what a late night Friday turned into and the shoddy floor sleep he’d just had. But he couldn’t. Not when his insides were buzzing with so much rage he thought he might combust in the middle of the East Boulevard.

Quentin fucking Beck.

Brock fucking Rumlow.

Quentin motherfucking Beck.

Bucky’s teeth were clenched so hard his jaw started to throb. He had forced himself to remain calm the night before. As soon as he’d heard her say their names, he swore to himself he wouldn’t make it worse. Y/n was already suffering enough, she didn’t need him getting all macho and protective when she’d only just remembered the horrendous details.

But now that he was alone, the fury erupted in chest and seared through his veins.

Bucky wasn’t a violent man. When they were teenagers, Steve was the one getting into fights. Bucky would come to his friend’s rescue often, only resorting to violence when absolutely necessary. But the Terror in Y/n’s eyes when he woke her from her nightmare was enough to make him plan out every excruciating and gory detail of Beck’s murder.

Quentin was in graphic lit with Y/n and Bucky this semester and Bucky already loathed every word that came out of the obnoxious douchebag’s mouth. Not to mention the way Bucky always caught him staring at Y/n. It ignited a jealous flame in him—not that his crush meant that Y/n belonged to him or anything. It’s just he could see the way he undressed her with his disgusting leering. So it was no surprise when Y/n named him. Could you really blame him for wanting to knock the guy out?

Gross staring habit aside, Bucky had heard and read the stories about Beck and Rumlow. But everyone in the Faculty of Arts knew Beck’s father was one of the college’s biggest donors so he was next to untouchable. That didn’t mean Bucky couldn’t have a little “chat” with him the next time he saw him.

Which turned out would be as soon as Bucky entered the 24-hour coffee shop between his and Y/n’s residences. The only students in there were either die hard studiers or those making a pitstop on their walk of shame from Saturday night debauchery. Quentin and his ever present sidekick were the last in line.

Bucky’s chest started heaving and he had to dig his nails into his palm as his right hand made a fist to ground himself, the prosthetic quietly whirring as he clenched his left.

“God, I can’t believe how much we drank last night. I need ALL the coffee right now,” Brock groaned.

“No shit. Where’d you end up anyways? With that brunette? Or the slutty blond?”

“I can’t even remember, man. I just grabbed my hoodie and left this morning. What about you?”

“Same, man. I just remember it being good.”

The two laughed at Quentin’s insinuation.

“And thank fuck I didn’t get barfed on this time.”

“I still can’t believe that bitch threw up on y—”

“Hey, what'd I say, man? Don’t call her a bitch. I should have remembered she couldn’t handle her shit. She was always such a lightweight in high school,” Quentin hissed at his buddy in a low tone.

“Jeez, cool it. I forgot you actually like that one.”

“Shut the fuck up, man. Just order our damn coffees so we can get back to the dorm. I’m going to go take a piss.”

Bucky watched as Quentin disappeared into the cafe’s washroom. He was counting his breaths and trying to focus on the burning sensation of his nails in his palm. Before he could decide what to do, his legs were already turning him around and sending him through the doors he’d just entered minutes before. The coffee shop was the last business on the strip of the East Boulevard that led to Bucky’s dorm, the same as Beck’s and Rumlow’s. His feet continued to rush him to a section of dense trees just before their building, only stopping when he got to the wooden bench he knew was there.

Hidden from view by the shade of the changing foliage, Bucky sat, waiting. It didn’t take long before his ears registered Quentin’s voice. Bucky held his breath as the two men approached him. He watched them pass, oblivious to his presence on the bench.

Not yet.

Not yet.

Now.

“Hey Beck! Fuck you.”

Bucky’s heart was nearly pounding out of his chest as he watched the two dark haired men stop and look at each other before turning to see him sitting on the bench, knee bouncing.

“I’m sorry, who the fuck are you?”

“James Barnes. We’re in graphic lit,” he returned as he stood up.

“Riiiight. You’re the pathetic war amp that’s always sitting with Y/n. She was always taking pity on the retards.”

Bucky’s left hand was around Quentin’s neck so fast he even surprised himself.

“If I ever hear her name come out of your putrid rapist mouth ever again I swear to fucking god I will end you.”

Quentin was gasping, clawing at Bucky’s metal arm as it lifted him ever so slightly off the brick walkway. “B-Brock, fucking p-punch this asshole!” he managed to choke out.

Suddenly Bucky was seeing stars as his mouth flooded with the taste of copper and iron, a blinding pain radiating from his nose. But his anger was still controlling him as he swung his arm in defense, making contact several times, though not certain with who. It was enough to spook the two hungover friends. They hurriedly put distance between themselves and Bucky, walking backwards towards the dorm.

“You’re gonna pay for this, Barnes!” Quentin yelled.

“What, you’re gonna tell daddy you got beat up ‘cause you like to drug and rape women?!”

“Fuck you, Barnes!”

“Not even in your fucking dreams,” Bucky returned cooly.

His pulse was still raging and his teeth were chattering, and yet everything was crystal clear. He knew he should be feeling pain, but it was as if a warm calm had washed over him. The only other time he’d felt like this was when Steve pulled him out of the water after his cliff diving accident. He was in shock. He texted his group chat with Steve and Sam.

Bucky: U 2 up? Need help.

His phone rang not even thirty seconds later.

“Where are you? What happened?” Steve’s voice boomed through the speaker.

“At the bench by the trees, you know just before our dorm? Got into a fight with Quentin Beck and Brock Rumlow. I think my nose is broken.”

“Jesus Christ! We’ll be down in less than five. Stay put.”

“Thanks, Stevie.”

“‘Course, Buck.”

It only took two minutes for his friends and roommates to find him. Sam had a bag of frozen peas and Steve had a wet towel.

“Holy shit, Buck, that’s a lot of fucking blood!” The blonde handed him the towel.

Bucky hissed as he wiped his face and pressed it to his already swollen nose. “Ugh,” was all he could say. The shock had worn off and the pain was setting in.

“Here man, this’ll help,” Sam assured as he handed him the bag.

A muffled “thanks” came out from behind the frozen vegetables, followed by another groan.

“What the fuck happened, Buck? Why the hell are you getting into a fight with those two dicks at 7:30 a.m. on a Sunday?”

“It was them. Fuck, I shouldn’t even be telling you, but I’m so fucking pissed. It was them. They’re the ones who…”

Bucky couldn’t find the words. He couldn’t bring himself to say it out loud. And he didn’t have to. Sam and Steve pieced it together immediately.

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, closing his eyes at the slight relief the peas were bringing him. The pain was present now, and morphing into a sharp ache that spread across his cheeks and behind his eyes.

The three friends stayed silent for a moment, then Steve spoke up.

“Before I start having to figure out how to get one of my best friends out of jail for murder, can we take you to the clinic?”

Bucky chuckled at how well the blonde knew his thought processes.

“Sure, no murder for today. I promise.”

“Good. Let’s get you up then. You think you can walk the five minutes to the med building?”

Bucky nodded, and the two friends each took a side, guiding Bucky away from what looked like a violent crime scene and towards the clinic.

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

When Y/n awoke to an empty room, her heart sank a little. She looked at her clock: 8:17 a.m. She sighed, rubbing her hands over her face. How could she be crushing on someone after everything that had happened? How could she even want to be around men after that?

But maybe it was because of what happened that she wanted Bucky even more now. To prove to her not all men were sex-crazy assaulting assholes. That not all men just saw her as an object. That maybe there might be someone that wanted her for her, not her body. That respected her and was actually interested in who she was as a person.

Bucky seemed like one of the good ones. He would laugh when she made jokes about white male fragility. When the outing of sexual aggressors that was happening on campus came up, Bucky seemed to listen so intently when Y/n had shared some of her shitty experiences with him. He’d mentioned the training he was making the swim team go through. She’d never met any man like him. So supportive, aware of his privilege, and genuinely committed to making a difference.

Maybe that’s why Y/n felt so safe with him when he found her on Friday. And why she was actually relieved when he said he was sleeping over the previous night. He didn’t make her feel embarrassed about what happened. He just listened, like he always did.

Y/n sighed again, then forced herself out of bed. She felt exhausted yet wide awake, and suddenly was overcome by an urge to get out of the house. She’d go grab a coffee or maybe something more soothing—she didn’t really need anything upping her anxiety at this point. Then she could pick up the medical letter from the clinic. That could be her outing for the day. Dr. Cho had said to take baby steps, after all.

By the time Y/n got to the clinic she was already worn out and just wanted to be back at her dorm. Nat and Wanda were still asleep when she got up and she had wanted to try going out by herself. But once she’d made it to the cafe, regret for not waiting for the redheads to accompany her began seeping in.

She felt so exposed walking around campus, as if somehow every single person she passed knew what had happened to her. It made her chest flood with shame and embarrassment and all she wanted to do was crawl up into a ball in her bed. The almond steamed milk was calming her nerves a bit, but only enough to get her to the clinic. She’d b-line back to the dorm immediately after.

“Hi, I’m here to pick up my letter from Dr. Cho? My name is Y/n L/n, I was here yesterday but the printer wasn’t working?” Y/n said meekly.

“Right, there was a sticky note saying you’d come today. Dr. Cho also wanted me to give you these,” the receptionist said as she handed Y/n what looked like a few info-sheets. She couldn’t bear to look at them at that moment so she folded them along with the note and stuck them into her bag.

“Thanks, tell her thank you.” Y/n’s expression dropped. “I’m sorry, I’ve got to go, that’s my friend,” she quickly turned away from the reception desk as she saw Bucky walk out of the exam room hallway.

“Oh my god, Bucky, are you ok?”

“Y/n, what are you doing here? Are you hurt?”

“Jesus, you’re covered in blood and your face is swollen and you’re worried about me?” She put her hands on his shoulders to inspect the damage more closely. The worry in her eyes was enough to melt Bucky’s heart.

“I’m ok, I promise. It’s a hairline fracture in the bridge, but didn’t have to get it reset or anything. Doctor says it should be healed in about six weeks. And I get the next three days off, so there’s that.”

“How did it… who did this to you?” Y/n asked as she pulled her arms from his shoulders, as if she might already know the answer.

Bucky rubbed the back of his neck with his metal hand, his eyes shifting away from her as he searched for a way to avoid the truth. He didn’t want to upset her, didn’t want her to think he’d betrayed her. Unintentionally, Sam and Steve came to his rescue.

“There you are, Buck. That was fast. Oh, hey, Y/n! Good to see you... again...” Sam trailed off, realizing the awkwardness of the situation.

Y/n’s cheeks burned immediately as she was bombarded with flashes of Friday night. “I’m, um, thanks… uh—”

“Hey, don’t be embarrassed. Please. We’re just, we’re glad we could help.” Steve chimed in.

“And we’re so fucking sorry that happened,” Sam added.

“Guys! Jesus. Not really the right venue, hm?” Bucky cut in sharply. “Let’s all get out of here, yeah? You want me to walk you back to your dorm, Y/n?”

Y/n’s shoulder’s dropped. Saved by Bucky, again. “Are you serious right now? You’ve got a broken nose and are asking to walk me home? Does he have any self preservation?” She turned to the two friends?

Sam and Steve burst out laughing.

“Oh, I like her,” Sam chuckled. “We’ve actually gotta run to practice, we’re already 15 minutes late. I’ll tell coach you’re going to be off and will be in touch with them. Y/n, do you think you could make sure this moron makes it back to our dorm?”

“You got it, captain,” she grinned warmly.

“Y/n, you really don’t have to—”

“Don’t listen to him,” Steve cut in. “He needs all the help he can get.”

“I’ve got him, don’t worry, boys.”

And she meant it. The anxiety and panic that had been building in her chest was now squashed by a sense of duty and purpose. What a powerful medicine, to be needed.

The four walked out of the clinic and into the crisp autumn morning, parting ways after saying goodbyes that were much less awkward than their hellos.

“You really don’t need to do this. It’s only five minutes from here.” Bucky protested as they started down the walkway.

“James, please. It’s the least I could do after all you’ve done for me these past few days. I want to help. Let me help.”

“You don’t owe me anything, Y/n. I need you to know that.” He stopped and looked at her with a fierceness in his eyes that made her shiver.

“I, I know. I just, please, it’s helping to have a distraction,” she admitted softly.

“I’m glad my pain and suffering could bring some benefit to you,” Bucky returned cheekily.

“Fuck, sorry!” Y/n covered her mouth in embarrassment. “That’s not what I meant, I’m so sorry.”

“Y/n, sweetheart,” he backtracked, placing his hand on forearm to lower it from her mouth, “I was just joking. You’re all good.”

“I… you never answered me. Who did this to you?”

Bucky sighed. “I need you to know I didn’t say anything specific. We’ll not at first. I just, after you told me last night, I was so fucking pissed. And I know I’m making this about me and I shouldn’t be and that’s exactly why I didn’t say anything last night. And you weren’t supposed to even find out about this. But I saw the two of them this morning at the cafe and I just fucking snapped and I called him a fucking rapist and started choking him and then I threatened him to never say your name again and then I think Rumlow punch me and then I threw a few back and then—”

Suddenly Bucky’s nervous rambling was cut off by Y/n’s tight embrace, and he could feel her chest hitching slightly against his.

“Thank you,” she whispered, “thank you so much.”

Bucky exhaled in relief. “I thought you would be mad at me, that I had betrayed your trust. I’d never get involved without your consent. I know it’s not my place. I just lost control and I’m sorry but I’m not really sorry because he fucking deserves so much more than that and—”

“Bucky,” Y/n stopped him, releasing their hug to gently place a hand on his cheek, “You have no idea how much this means to me. You words, your support. Everything is so fucked up, but having you around during this has made me feel safe. So thank you.”

Bucky leaned into her touch. “Whatever you need, Y/n. I’m here. Anytime, any place.”

Y/n searched his eyes for a moment before nodding once. “Let’s get you home and under some ice. That looks painful as fuck.”

Bucky laughed softly, “Yeah, it’s not the most pleasant feeling.”

The two turned back towards the dorm, Y/n lacing her fingers with Bucky’s as they continued down the path.

Next chapter

[seabass17]

All that’s left | Bucky Barnes

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

A/n: This is my first time writing something based on a video I found on TikTok, it’s not exactly the same, but it is kinda the idea. I hope you like it and please let me know if you might want a part two. Also, I apologize if you find some errors, im doing my best since English is not my first language. Anyway, happy reading!!

All that’s left masterlist

Pt. 2

Warnings: angst, mentions of injuries (broken ribs, cuts, dislocated shoulder)

Word count: 2.5K

Summary: She still can’t get used to the feeling of being left behind by the people she once called family. After being hurt, she decides that she will give them a chance, and when they failed, she then makes the decision to disappear and start brand new. Of course, she leaves a letter that will left the team standing in the dark, and with more questions than answers about a lot of things, while discovering that she has more of one past that she let to know.

The sound of the rain hitting against the window of my living room was the only thing that could be heard in the silence of my apartment. I looked over my desk where the paper is waiting for me to pick up the pen and get this over with, but somehow, somewhere deep inside of me, a part is waiting, holding on to the smallest of hope that maybe, just maybe, he is going to come knocking to my door asking why the i haven’t showed up to the compound for the last three days, or why i didn’t text nor call the rest of the team. I wanted to see if they would notice my absence so I left the compound on Thursday. I got the answer to my question when Sunday arrived and my inbox was clear; no one noticed. Today is Tuesday, my apartment is thirteen minutes away, fifthteen if you literally fly or speed up, but still, no one came or text.

To be honest, I'm not surprised, that doesn’t mean it hurts less though. I know i should probably think this through instead of making the impulse decision of grabbing my things and get the hell out of here, going somewhere i can start fresh, somewhere i can start over and get a chance to get over all the things that happened,  find people that actually cared for me, or maybe not finding anyone at all and die alone.

I stand up from my bed and go to my desk, it’s time to get this over with. I start writing the only thing that they get to keep.

“Dear Avengers, You’re probably wondering where I am, or you just don’t care, maybe you don’t even find this. If someone from the building finds this, keep it in case they ever come looking for me; thank you. So, this is it, this is my goodbye. You should consider yourselves lucky, given the fact that none of you even deserves a goodbye because you are the ones causing it. I could tell you the reason why I'm leaving, and you know what, I will tell you. I chose to trust you. The one thing I feared the most was trusting people, but when I joined the team, I thought ‘well, maybe i can trust them, they are my team’, guess what, I was wrong. You should really look out for your teammates Stark, oh, and by the way, you might want to look deeper into why the operation that saved those 30 civilians on may 20, didn’t go south, you might even discover its the very same reason of why i didn’t showed up in the compound for a week, yeah, they were busy torturing the information out of me for a week; information that, by the way, i didn't give, hence why the operation went great. Something even more funny, is that behind every mistake, every wrong that each one of you have ever done, I’m the one that suffered the consequences. Don’t believe me? Then you might want to do your homework, because dear teammates, I’m the one you couldn’t protect. By the time you find out the things you’ve done, I will be long gone. I'm very good at disappearing, Natasha (once she figures it out) can confirm that. I wish things would be different and we could be… family, but that’s never going to happen; not anymore. As of now, there will be no record of my name ever existing, everything that once belonged to me, will be burned, and as of me, well, I am no one.”

I fold the piece of paper and put it in the envelope, once sealed, I write down the word my name in the center so they know. I take a last look at my apartment. Everything is intact, the furniture that came with it is the same as always, the only thing different is that it seems empty without all my belongings. I grabbed my luggage and exited the apartment and then went downstairs.

“Hey Richard”  I say to the man that is in the reception like I always do

“Hey miss, what can I do for you?”

“Well, I'm leaving, for good. If someone comes asking for me, my friends, you tell them that you haven’t seen me. Oh, I left a letter for them upstairs, could you please make sure that it gets to them? Only if the show up, do not sent it”

He looked at me a little sad and confused.

“Oh, well, you will me missed miss, I hope you find happiness and yes, i promised i will make sure they get your letter”

“Thank you Richard, for everything, oh, and this is for you” I handed him an envelope with some cash. He looked like he was about to say something about how he couldn’t accept it but I cut him off. “Please, just take it, please”. He sighs but takes the envelope.

“Thank you miss…”

I smiled at him and then turned around to grab a cab. I'm supposed to be in the airport in 30 minutes. Once in the airport, the only thing left is to start again, be someone brand new.

*3rd person POV*

Friday morning was a little colder than usual in the avengers compound, everyone on the team was up and in the kitchen having breakfast. Everything was normal, until someone noticed that someone was missing.

“Hey guys” Bucky said right before taking a bite of the pancakes Wanda made earlier for everyone. “Have any of you seen y/n?”

The team stayed quiet, realizing that they haven’t seen her for quite a while, not until Barnes brought it up.

“Uh… maybe she took a trip?” Steve broke the silence while the rest started thinking when was the last time they had seen her.

“No, she was here when we arrived from the Jersey mission, it must have been like what, two days, maybe three?” Tony said. Bucky could feel his insides burning and twisting.

“No… that was eight days ago” Vision intervened. The avengers felt like someone just blew up the white house. Her teammate was missing for eight days and no one even noticed. Bucky was the first one to react by getting up and running to her dorm, only to find it exactly the way it was when he last saw her. He searched her dorm looking for something out of place that could tell him that maybe you were in trouble and that he has to come save you, but he is left desperate when he doesn’t find anything.

“She’s not here, everything is intact” He informs once he is back in the kitchen.

“Everyone” Steve calls out, “get dressed, we’re going to look for her. Let’s start in her apartment”

The team leaves to change their clothes and next thing they know, they are in her building. Without saying a word to the receptionist, they all made their way up to her apartment.

“Hey! wait-” he goes unnoticed because the avengers are already on her door. Wanda knocks on the door.

“Y/n? You there?” no one responds. “Y/n come on, don’t be mad at us” Natasha says.

After a few seconds they all start to worry when the door is unlocked, and they worry even more once they see the apartment completely empty.

“What the-” Bucky says

“Where are her things?” Wanda asks to no one especifically

“Where is she?” Thor says

“What the hell is going on?” Tony says a little louder

Bucky storms out of the empty apartment and goes to the man in the reception

“What the hell happened to apartment 108, where is y/n y/l/n?” he asks with worry and anxiety in his voice.

“I’m sorry, but, who are you?” the man asks the rather intimidating group of people in front of him.

“We’re the Avengers man” Peter says and the man suddenly realizes and his face changes from a confused one, to a sad one that makes the team’s stomach drop.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t…” he sighs, “She left me indicated to give this to you” he hands them an envelope that looks like it's been sitting there for a while. Bucky stares at the envelope like it's some kind of nuclear weapon that if you touch it, it could kill you. Wanda notices, grabs the envelope and stares at the paper in her hands.

“When did she leave this?” She asked

“Three days ago”

“And why didn’t you send it to us?” Tony asked, getting angry at the poor man.

“Because she specifically said  to handed it to you, if you ever came looking for her”

Bucky could feel the tears in his eyes start to form.

“She said that? `Ever’?” Bucky asked almost to himself. The man slowly nodded. Natasha could feel how her stomach started burning from the guilt and the pain of not noticing that her friend was missing for eight days, little does she know that the entire team felt exactly the same.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y pull the records on the mission on may 20 and also show me the status of y/n on that time” Tony said to the AI and after a few seconds later, pictures of the building that that was about to be blown out by HYDRA with 30 civilians inside showed up. While the avengers were sitting in the conference room looking at the pictures, the AI started talking.

“Mission of may 20. Information was given that HYDRA kept 30 civilians inside the building with the intention of blowing it up with them inside. Source of the information unknown. The Avengers  came to the building and successfully rescued the civilians safely moments before the building was blown up. Agent y/n y/l/n was on an undercover mission on a HYDRA facility at the same time, the communication was lost three days before the civilians situation, and around the same time, the information about the building was given anonymously the very same day that communication with Agent y/l/n was lost; Agent y/l/n returned a week later. Medical record found, access denied”

“Override, Tony Stark” Tony said after a good couple of seconds, the pieces starting to fall in place.

“Access complete. Medical records of Agent y/l/n on may 27th. Access restrained: Agent y/l/n. She presented with several cuts all over her body, three broken ribs, a second grade concussion, a sprained ankle and a dislocated shoulder. Patient refused treatment and was only given medication for the pain”

The seconds were passing and no one in the room would break the silence. The pieces were starting to fall in place, Tony felt nauseous. He yelled at her for being irresponsible for staying a little longer than she should have in the undercover mission, given the fact that she checked in on june 10th, meaning that she waited two weeks for her injuries to heal enough so that he could yell at her for not being good enough. He fell down to his chair, feeling like if he stayed up, he might throw up.

“She was the one that gave us the information about the building” Sam broke the silence. “She was the one that got tortured, and still managed to pass through the data so that we, could be the heroes while she was the one that got beaten up”

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, where is she?” Natasha asked the AI, and it responded after a few seconds.

“No information found”

Natasha frowned, Bucky looked up to the screen to see the red sentence. It only made him want to scream more.

“What does ‘no information found’ mean?” Bucky asked on the edge of falling apart.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y” Steve called

“No information available” it said this time.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y, look for y/n y/l/n” Tony said, thinking maybe he needed to check what was wrong with the AI.

“No records found for y/n y/l/n”

“Detail,” Stark said.

The AI showed what it said before, there was no record of her name, it was like it never existed. No phone number, no mail address, no nothing, just a little picture of an abandoned building or mansion somewhere in the world.

“Wait” Natasha said, “I know that building, F.R.I.D.A.Y, do a close up on that picture”

“What is it?” Wanda asked

“It was where The Red Room used to operate” tha AI responded

“Why does it appear related to her?” Bucky asked, fearing the answer

“The picture was taken when a girl escaped The Red Room in 2002, she eliminated four people on the way, the age or who it was is still unknown” the AI responded.

“Oh god…” Natasha whispered but Bucky manage it to hear it

“Natasha, what is it?” he asked

“2002, that’s three years after i managed to escape, there was a girl, we were some sort of friends, i promised that i was going to get us out of here, but i couldn’t take her with me so i left her. Two years later I contacted someone on the inside so that I could get to her and plan her escape, but she was angry at me and said that she was fine, a year later she did escape, killing four people on her way” Natasha explained. Everything makes sense now, why she looked familiar, why she had exactly the same skills as Natasha. The team noticed it too, but they assumed it was because she had trained very hard to be an avenger.

“What was her name?” Vision asked.

“Eliza” Natasha said

“Wait a minute…” Bucky said, lifting her head looking at Natasha. “Was that her real name?”

“No, she didn’t wanted to say her real one” Natasha said

“Eliza, that’s y/n’s grandmother’s name” Bucky said and the room fell into a silence where you could hear the wind outside.

“In the letter…” Steve started, “She said that you could confirm that she was good at disappearing completely once you figured it out, so, does this mean that…”

“Y/n is Eliza” Natasha concluded

“She was in The Red Room” Bucky added.

“She said in her letter that all of us did her wrong,” Sam said, “how are we supposed to know what the hell we do to her? She’s been in the team for what, two and a half years? And just now we realized that she was the one that gave us the data that saved 30 people and got her tortured, and that she was trained in The Red Room like Black Widow here. What else are we missing?” he added.

“Guess there’s only one thing we can do” Steve said, looking at Tony.

“And what’s that?” Wanda asked

“We find her”

[gatekeeper-watchman]

Daily Devotionals for September 8, 2023

Proverbs: God's Wisdom for Daily Living

Devotional Scripture:

Proverbs 24:11-12 (KJV): 11 If thou forbear to deliver them that are drawn unto death, and those that are ready to be slain; 12 If thou sayest, Behold, we knew it not; doth not he that pondereth the heart consider it? and he that keepeth thy soul, doth not he know it? and shall not he render to every man according to his works? Proverbs 24:11-12 (AMP): 11 Deliver those who are drawn away to death, and those who totter to the slaughter hold them back (from their doom). 12 If you (profess ignorance and) say, Behold, we did not know this, does not He Who weighs and ponders the heart perceive and consider it? And He Who guards your life, does not He know it? And shall not He render to (you and) every man according to his works?

Thought for the Day

Verse 11 - It is our Christian duty to try to rescue those who are in danger of physical or spiritual death. We must not fail to tell others about Christ or ignore their cries for help, nor should we shut our eyes to their suffering. News on TV reports tragic situations throughout the world, and it is our responsibility to help those we can. We cannot help the whole world, but we can volunteer for a particular situation or support a person whom God lays upon our hearts. We must not become callous to people's needs, but we must be attentive to the Spirit; and always be ready to help the poor, hungry, and sick. Sometimes, He may lead us to visit an individual or the physical site of a catastrophe. Other times, He may lead us to give our finances to equip others at the scene of a tragedy. Also, we can always help by taking time to pray for those who are in danger. People who are weak and "tottering" can be destroyed without our help. Helping the poor and needy, as Christ commissioned His people to do, is like ministering to Jesus Himself. "For I was hungered, and ye gave me meat: I was thirsty, and ye gave me drink: I was a stranger, and ye took me in Naked, and ye clothed me: I was sick, and ye visited me: I was in prison, and ye came unto me. Then shall the righteous answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we thee an hungered, and fed thee? or thirsty, and gave thee drink? When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in? or naked, and clothed thee? Or when saw we thee sick or in prison, and came unto thee? And the King shall answer and say unto them, Verily I say unto you, since ye have done it unto one of the least of these, my brethren, ye have done it unto me" (Matthew 25:35-40).

Verse 12 - God knows our hearts. If we do not sow kindness, but make excuses for not helping others when they have a need, we will reap what we sow, and no one will help us when we need it. God desires His children to have a heart like His. He is merciful, kind, loving, and giving, and we should strive to be like Him. He promises to heal us and deliver us from trouble because we have given to the poor. What wonderful "insurance!"

"Blessed is he that considereth the poor: the LORD will deliver him in time of trouble. The LORD will preserve him, and keep him alive, and he shall be blessed upon the earth: and thou wilt not deliver him unto the will of his enemies. The LORD will strengthen him upon the bed of languishing: thou wilt make all his bed in his sickness" (Psalm 41:1-3). To sum up our Christian duty to the needy, I am reminded of the words of an old hymn "Rescue the Perishing; Care for the Dying."

Prayer Devotional for the Day

Dear heavenly Father, thank you for blessing me, and Lord, give me a greater heart to reach out and bless others. Lord, keep me from selfishness, greed, insecurity, lust, indifference, and any other thing that would keep me from giving up the things You have given me. May I always be reminded that all I own belongs to You, and I am only a steward over it. Lord, I want to hear Your voice as to where I should give and how much I should give. Lord, I always want to be generous and kind and one who reaches out to the poor and needy. Help me to be sensitive to those who are hurting and deliver me from any hardness of heart that would cause me to turn a deaf ear to the needs of others. I ask this in the name of Jesus Christ. Amen.