SO GUESS WHO'S TOTALLY STILL ALIVE.
SPOILERS! IT'S THIS GUY!
NOW GUESS WHO'S TOTALLY THRILLED TO HEAR THIS NEWS.
SPOILERS! I AM.
:D
Anyway. Aside from that, I have some fanfic recs!
First! I don't know how many people on my flist are familiar with the game campfuckudie and its Reborn cast, but regardless, I have made the decision to pimp this fic from Audience Appreciation Week, because it is hilarious and cute and ridiculously, lovably IC despite the fact that the characters are trapped in a multi-fandom zombie summer camp in the middle of Iowa or wherever. IT HAS GOKUDERA NERDING OUT OVER CROP CIRCLES, OKAY, 'NUFF SAID.
"The radius is smaller than previously recorded - Tenth, this could be a special message; we need to study it carefully!"
"A-ah." Bemused, Tsuna gropes for something to say to that. "Um, a message from who, Gokudera-kun?"
"Isn't it usually aliens?" Yamamoto says, his arms hooked casually behind his head as he peers about. "You saw that film too, right?"
Gokudera scowls at him. "It's not 'usually' anything, dumbass. It could be a communication from outer space, but it also could be from a hidden ancient civilisation, or from beings evolved beyond humanity. Idiots like you couldn't hope to understand it."
PURE MAGIC. I love it so much, and it helps to ease my deep depression over the fact that CFUD's Gokudera recently dropped from the game. T_T Anyway, yeah, go read it.
SECOND! I promise I am not just pimping this fic by achiasa just because it was inspired by one of my numerous stupid comments. I am pimping it because a) it is hilarious and well-written and has awesome 805927 Vongola Bling Bonding, and b) said inspiring comment was basically something along the lines of "I can't stop picturing Uri leaping out from Gokudera's crotch."
"Huh?" Gokudera halts in his lecture, thrown off his rhythm, before nodding enthusiastically. "Good idea, Tenth! Watch this, baseball idiot!" He frowns in ferocious concentration for a moment, balling up a fist, and then - then flames erupt from his, well, from his belt, which he's wearing slung low on his hips like pretty much always. Takeshi kind of has to wonder what that feels like, because shouldn't it burn? He's not sure he really wants to ask Gokudera, though.
"Haha, whoa," he manages, because it seems like this is actually happening, and not him dreaming strange things again because of the medicines. Gokudera's pants are on fire, and Takeshi wants to laugh but can't stop staring long enough.
THE WHOLE THING IS JUST THAT AWESOME, YOU GUYS.
AND LASTLY. A lot of you have probably read this one already, but I feel obligated to rec it regardless because it is, in all seriousness, probably the best KHR fic I've ever read. In fact, scratch that "probably"--it is the best fic, hands down. What We Fought For, by metisket. It's basically an awesome Tsuna gen (gen!! *_*) fic about what would happen if a) the KHR-verse mafia more closely resembled the real deal, and b) faced with the ugliness of that kind of mafia, Tsuna decided to take Giotto's advice from way back when. I say Tsuna gen, but really it's about all of the characters; pretty much everyone in the Vongola gets their share of screentime here, and everyone is wonderfully IC (Gokudera is particularly well-written, as is Tsuna himself). And I could keep going on and on about how good it is, but well... just see for yourself.
Tsuna walked three steps from the train station before entrusting his wallet to Gokudera, getting a death grip on Yamamoto’s arm, and giving himself wholly over to blind panic.
Within two blocks, Gokudera and Bianchi made perfect sense. Beautiful, terrifying women and slouching, wary men were everywhere, pushing past each other, yelling at each other, pointedly ignoring each other. The city itself was clearly insane, every inch of it. The traffic, the architecture, the layout. Pandemonium. Tsuna was so busy staring around open-mouthed that only Yamamoto’s reflexes saved him from death by motorcycle. What in the hell a motorcycle was doing on the sidewalk, Tsuna did not know.
He loved the city from the start. Reborn had trained him to love things that might kill him at any moment, after all.
“Oh my God, Tsuna,” Yamamoto said. “Did you steal that motorcycle?”
“Um.”
“Tenth! You were riding without a helmet!? That’s so dangerous! Please be more careful, what would have happened if you’d gotten into an accident, how would we even have known!?”
Gokudera rode without a helmet all the time, but Tsuna knew that argument would get him nowhere. And Gokudera was evidently fine. Which meant that Tsuna had stolen someone’s motorcycle and driven it from Secondigliano to Naples for no reason at all.
“We’re late,” Gokudera realized, seizing Yamamoto’s arm to check his watch, horror-struck. “We abandoned our boss with that moron Chiavarone, that’s why this happened! What if you’d died in traffic? It would’ve been all my fault, I might as well’ve run you over myself-”
“Gokudera, really-”
“Oh my God, Tsuna, you stole a motorcycle.” Yamamoto was gazing at him with something disturbingly like reverence.
Reborn just gives one of the famous impenetrable looks, and Iemitsu sighs. “All right. Fine. Let’s talk about this catastrophically insane idea of yours. We still have our original problem, which is: they’re cockroaches. Do your guardians know about this…plan, for lack of a better word?”
“They do.”
“And they’re with you on this?”
“Of course they are.”
Lambo had initially burst into tears, but Tsuna won him over by promising that no Bovinos would be shot. Ryouhei is game for anything extreme. Gokudera required a knock-down, drag-out argument and Yamamoto required two hours of careful explanation, but they’re both behind him now. Hibari finds the discipline in Southern Italy to be utterly lacking, and has threatened to fix it before. The prospect of a mafia family breaking the back of mafia power in Italy, meanwhile, delights Mukuro down to the bottom of his twisted soul. And finally, there’s Chrome, who has a higher opinion of Tsuna’s intelligence than she ought to, and is largely indifferent to the fate of anyone who isn’t Vongola. She sees nothing wrong with Tsuna’s plan.
Tsuna doesn’t feel like sharing all these fascinating details.
“I disagree,” Tsuna tells Marco, but politely, because there’s nothing more useless than a baby capo who thinks you aren’t treating him with respect. “I hope we won’t have to argue about this.”
Marco’s eyes wander past Tsuna. Judging from the quickly-suppressed flash of panic in his eyes, Tsuna imagines that Yamamoto is smiling and Gokudera is not. An unsettling sight, in the right circumstances. Though not as unsettling as when they switch.
Mukuro tips his head to the side and studies Tsuna with mismatched eyes. Once upon a time, it would have made Tsuna uncomfortable. Happily, he’s been utterly terrified for most of his life and can’t muster the energy anymore.
I know it looks like I must have quoted half the fic here, but that's another nice thing about this particular story: it is nice and long. AND GOOD. So, so good. Go read it, and I promise that you will absolutely not regret it.
Anyway, so that's everything I've read recently that made me spaz out and want to grab people by the shoulders and shout, "READ THIS!" I think. XD