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mizunetzu · 4 years

Note

PART 3 OF ITS YOUR FAULT PLS !!!! I LOVE IT EKDBJSHD

Well since y’all asked so nicely-

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Kuroo x reader - it’s your fault (pt. 3) (final)

⚠️warnings - angst

Pronouns - male, he/him

part 1 can be found here!

part 2 can be found here!

——————

Sports sucks. That’s what Kuroo knew about (y/n), yet he still egged him on to play volleyball with him. He had a choice to say no, which was what younger him was hoping for, yet he still did it in hope of gaining his affection.

All his life he thought he was annoying. All his life he’d been in the mindset of how annoying he was, and how blissful it would’ve been for him to just disappear off the face of the earth.

So when (y/n) suddenly stopped showing up to practice, Kuroo didn’t expect himself to get worried.

He was starting to miss all the clingy touches, or the ‘good morning, Kuroo-kun!’ every single morning practice. He didn’t realize how quiet the walk was to his classes, or to and from home, when (y/n) wasn’t there to fill the noise on random things he found cool or how his day was. He didn’t know how expensive the drink (y/n) religiously bought him from the vending machine was, even though he bought him the drink with a smile plastered on his face like it was nothing.

“Oh, (y/n)? He quit the team.”

Kuroo dropped the volleyball he was holding. He’d gone up to coach nekomata to ask where (y/n) was, and why he wasn’t showing up to practice. But he was regretting asking in the first place. Nekomata gave him a sympathetic look.

Kuroo picked up his volleyball, gave him the best smile he could afford, and walked away. Why was he so devastated? Why did his heart feel like it sunk into his stomach? Why was his chest hurting like that? He should’ve been glad that (y/n) was finally gone.

So why does his heart hurt so much?

————

Kuroo figured he’d stop by his apartment to see what was going on. It’s been weeks, yet he couldn’t find him anywhere in his classrooms, and he nor Kenma could reach him on his phone.

When he walked up the stairs, looking for the ever familiar door to his apartment, he was nervous. For once in his life when going to talk to the boy, he was nervous. It wasn’t a good feeling, he never felt nervous to talk to him before.

When he noticed the door slightly ajar, he clutched the apology basket of sweets in his hand tighter. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to apologize for, though. Maybe for yelling at him, or maybe for something else.

“...hello? (Y-y/n)?” When he opened the door, he was met face to face with construction workers, and a blank apartment. Kuroos heart stopped beating. A man, who Kuroo believes was the apartment owner, looked at Kuroo, to his schools jacket, and down to his basket saying “I’m sorry (y/n) :(“

“Oh? Are you here for that (h/c)-haired kid?” Kuroo nodded vigorously.

“Sorry bud. He moved out a few days ago.” Kuroo couldn’t hide the devastated frown from tugging at his lips. He mumbled a small “sorry” and spedwalked out of the building.

He spammed (y/n’s) phone, probably texting more than he ever did his whole life combined, with “where are you’s” and “hey look I’m sorry, okay? Please answer me’s”

None of them were even read.

Kenma didn’t react well to knowing one of his best friends moved away so suddenly. Unlike Kuroo, (y/n) was good friends with him, practically attached to the hip. When Kuroo told him he couldn’t find (y/n) at his apartment, Kenma clutched his ds harder and glared at the screen like it was it’s fault for making him disappear.

But as much as Kenma blamed the ds, they both knew it was Kuroos fault.

———

Kuroo strived to be a better person. He came to terms with his feelings for (y/n), and how he could never repeat his mistake again.

He grew to love (y/n), and he messed it up so bad.

He’d be sure to never lead anyone on again, minus when he’d lead his team to victory as their new captain. He’d try and hold less grudges, tell someone when he doesn’t like them, as to let them down easy instead of blowing up in their face, and even bought his team snacks and filled up their water bottles during practice.

Kuroo walked around the unknown streets of miyagi, scanning his eyes for a mop of bleached hair. He knew Kenma got distracted on his phone, but this was excessive, even for him.

Eventually, his eyes landed on two bright figures. Kenmas usual bright blond hair, and a tuft of orange next to him.

“Kenma!”

Kenmas head whipped up, and he shut off his phone, but then a flash of (h/c) came into his peripherals. He looked a little further down and locked eyes with someone who made his throat close up.

(Y/n).

He looked older. Not in the way that he looks physically older, but he carried himself with a somewhat mature, grown stance that made Kuroo so a double take. His hair was slightly longer and he was wearing a black team jacket instead of the red Nekoma jacket he used to wear. Shocked (e/c) colored eyes morphed into an expression of pure resentment, making Kuroos shocked happiness short lived. Kenma walked up next to him, about to ask what happened when Kuroo turned his head away, walking with his head down.

Kenma waved bye to Hinata, when his eyes landed on (y/n). He was talking to a silver headed guy, with a distasteful frown directed at Kuroo. He didn’t say anything though, just ducked his head and walked beside his captain.

———

(Y/n) kept his eyes fixed on the ground, as Nekoma and Karasuno stood in a line, facing eachother. Kenma was practically standing in front of him, shocked to the core, but also averting his gaze. Not just because (y/n), but Hinata next to the boy was staring at him with his mouth agape.

Eventually everyone filed into the gym, Hinata stopping Kenma to talk, while taketora eyed him menacingly. (Y/n) side-eyed the little interaction with an unwanted jealousy. He wanted to talk to Kenma, he WAS his childhood and best friend. But it soon dissipated when he felt a hand on his shoulder.

That jealousy turned into hatred.

“Can we talk, (y/n)?”

(Y/n) slapped Kuroos hand away and stepped past him, pushing him back slightly with his shoulder.

“Don’t call me that. You have no right. It’s

(L/n).”

Kuroo watched as (y/n) stepped into the gym, his lips pressed into a fine line.

—————

(Y/n) sat on a bench in the corner with an obviously closed off aura, watching as people set up the net or the players from both schools talked to eachother. He walked as Kuroo shook hands with Daichi, not noticing the mop of bleached hair sit himself next to him. (Y/n) flinched when he felt something brush his shoulder.

He whipped his head around to find Kenma, sitting right next to him, but looking straight in front of him. He said nothing, and fiddled with his fingers. Guess he didn’t change, even after a new school year.

(Y/n) relaxed a bit and went back to stalking his team and old teammates with a somewhat less intimidating aura. They sat in heavy silence for what seemed like forever, until (y/n) coughed into his Karasuno jacket.

“S-so how you been Ke-“

“So you’re just not gonna tell me why you left?”

Kenma was looking straight at (y/n), with his normal, neutral gaze. It looked like his normal face, but (y/n) knew how hurt he was. He understood, though. He would be hurt too if his best friend moved without saying goodbye.

“I’m...I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

More silence consumed them. Sounds of sneakers squeaking and the rustle of the net being hung up seemed to vanish under the cloud of quiet sheltering them. Kenma stood up.

“I’m not mad. But I know why you left. And I’m not saying it’s a stupid reason, but you should talk to him.”

Kenma walked away without another word, leaving (y/n) to trail his eyes over to his old teammate, now captain. The frown that summoned up on his face came naturally, despite taking Kenmas words to heart.

He also stood up, brushing himself off and turning his cheery attitude back on. Why play a game with a frown when you’re about to destroy your old team?

—————

(Y/n) wasn’t mad he lost. He was actually quite satisfied with ticking off some of his old teammates by receiving spikes or feints no one saw coming. He sort of felt like an inside man. A spy even. It wasn’t enough to secure a win, but (y/n) never really cared for that.

Everyone was bidding their new friends goodbye, or just idly standing by. He promised Kenma to unblock his number, but only if they never talked about Kuroo again. (Y/n) knew he was being petty, but if it meant never talking to that piece of shit again, so be it-

“Stop ignoring me.”

Speak of the fucking devil. (Y/n) didn’t turn around, choosing to clutch the edge of his black jacket instead.

“Then stop trying to fix a friendship that never existed, Kuroo.”

“Oi!” Kuroo grabbed onto (y/n’s) shoulder harshly, pulling him back and making him stumble a little. (Y/n) pried and clawed at Kuroos iron hard grip. As much as he hated to admit it, he missed Kuroos touch, a lot.

“Can we please have a civilized fucking conversation? I’m fuckin begging you here!”

“Stop fucking cursing and let go of me you fuckass scheming bitch!”

(Y/n) swung at Kuroos head, but avertedly missed. He wasn’t sure if he missed on purpose, or if Kuroo ducked. Kuroo grabbed onto (y/n’s) waist, earning a choked squeak, and hauled him over his shoulder. Kuroo looked for a secluded area, ignoring the fists digging repeatedly into his back and the confused stares he got passing by his team and (y/n’s) teammates.

Kuroo practically threw (y/n) off his back, him stumbling down and hitting the back of a wall a bit harshly, and trapped him between his body and the wall. Both of his hands were on either side of (y/n’s) head, and his legs were long enough to trap him in if he tried to escape.

(Y/n) shrunk back into the wall ever so slightly, but kept the scowl present on his face. Kuroo pursed his lips and sighed.

“(Y/n)-“

“Let me go. I don’t wanna tal-“

“GODDAMNIT (Y/N) IM BUSTING MY BALLS HERE TO TELL YOU THAT IM SORRY!” Kuroo slammed his hands against the wall again, earning a surprised flinch from the smaller boy. “FUCKING LISTEN TO ME! PLEASE!”

Kuroos eyes softened a bit when he finally met eyes with (y/n’s) petrified form, cowering against the wall with his arms tucked in shakily. (Y/n) was quick to push past Kuroo though, diving past him and turning around, free from the wall.

“You see-this is what I fucking hate about you! You act so slick and perfect to the point where you lead people on to think they mean something important to you! I wanted to be a writer, Kuroo! I gave that up to spend my time bouncing a fucking volleyball around with you, and what did I get?! Nothing! I only did it for your stupid friendship, yet I didn’t even get that!”

(Y/n) practically had steam rolling out up his ears, and his words dripped with pure hatred with each retort. Kuroo opened his mouth to speak, but (y/n) beat him to it.

“So if you really want to apologize, give me back the blood sweat and tears I wasted on this stupid volleyball shit!”

(Y/n) punched at Kuroos chest with trembling hands. He kept punching and hitting Kuroo until Kuroo gently grabbed his wrists and pulled him into a hug. Kuroo felt him balling his fists into his back, trying to push him away, but he knew he was stronger. (Y/n’s) mouth was muffled by the cloth of Kuroos shirt, yet he still kicked and screamed at the top of his lungs.

“LET ME GO! I WANT MY CHILDHOOD BACK! I WANT ALL THE YEARS I COULD’VE BEEN WRITING OR LITERALLY BE DOING SOMETHING I ACTUALLY FUCKING LIKE BACK! ITS YOUR FAULT! ITS YOUR FAULT THAT MY ARMS HURT EVERYDAY! ITS YOUR FAULT I GAVE UP ON WRITING! ITS YOUR FAULT! I HATE YOU! I HATE VOLLEYBALL! I FUCKING HATE YOU! I hate you! I-I hate...I....”

Yelling turned into incoherent sobs as (y/n’s) punches died out into love taps. Kuroo said nothing, rubbing circles onto (y/n’s) back, who finally gave up and weakly wrapped his arms around Kuroos waist. He stained Kuroo with his salty tears, choking out half assed “let me go”s in between hics and sobs like a broken record.

They stood like that in comfortable silence, Kuroo combing fingers through (y/n’s) hair while the smaller boys sobs turned into occasional sniffles. Kuroo rocked gently from side to side, attempting to calm him down until he was ready to talk.

“I just wanted to be your friend, stupid Kuroo...” his words were barely understandable through the cracks and sniffles of his voice-also being muffled by Kuroos chest-but the taller boy heard every word as clear as day. He rested his chin on top of (y/n’s) head, looking off to the side.

“Sorry. If it means anything, I was stupid enough to hold a childhood grudge against you. You did nothing wrong. I just...i was dumb and disliked you because I thought you were lazy and annoying even though you were anything but that and...yeah. Sorry.”

Kuroo pulled away from the hug, the cold air hitting (y/n) like a truck. He silently whined at the loss of contact, wiping away stray tears with his team jacket. Kuroo awkwardly held his hands behind his back, his tongue suddenly feeling too big to fit comfortably in his mouth.

“...I’m sorry too.”

(Y/n) averted his gaze, his eyes half lidded and puffy from crying. Kuroo looked at (y/n) with a blank expression.

“Why?”

“For um...being annoying or something. And like...bitching a lot. I’m sorr-.”

Kuroo grabbed hold of (y/n’s) shoulders and shook him violently. “Don’t apologize! You don’t have anything to be sorry for! It’s my fault! Let me take the blame!”

“God shut up you’re gonna make me cry again.”

“...sorry.”

Kuroo looked like a kicked puppy, which made (y/n) burst into a fit of laughter. Kuroos ears perked up as he was graced with the sight of (y/n) wiping happy tears off his face and clutching his stomach. It was a beautiful sight, so beautiful that it made Kuroos chest tighten.

Chuckles died out into snickers as (y/n) huffed and leaned against the wall.

“So-what are we? Friends?”

Kuroo hesitantly nodded, watching (y/n’s) face intently for any sign of protest. When (y/n) broke out into a smile, Kuroo felt like he was on cloud nine. Like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders after so long. He felt like he was flying.

“We should probably head back. I gotta go back to my schoo-“

“Yeah. Yeah that’s probably..smart...”

It was kind of bittersweet knowing you had to say goodbye to someone you just got your hands back on, but after (y/n) unblocked his number right infront of him before enveloping him in a hug, he supposed it was alright.

“Bye~! call me~” (y/n) mouthed out, stepping onto the bus. People started asking him if he was crying, or what that meltdown was about, but he just shrugged and put some earbuds in with a reserved smile.

Sports sucks. That’s the mindset (y/n) has, and probably will have forever.

But not when I’m with you.

——————

Epilogue:

“(Y/n)!” Kuroo ran up behind the boy and picked him up, twirling him around before setting him down. Tsukishima visibly gagged while Yamaguchi snickered behind him, stepping off the bus and preparing for the training camp.

“Yo! What’s up! God I missed you and your stupid hair.”

“I missed you too~”

...

“So...are we-“

“Yeah, that’s what we said on video chat right? I mean-if you meant it and all.”

“I DID!” Kuroo picked his new boyfriend up, this time placing a chaste kiss on the bridge of his nose.

“And god I love you so much.”

——————

And that’s it!! I hope you enjoyed this series!! Also thank you for 100 followers!! I’m so thankful!!

#hq x male reader #hq fics #haikyuu kuroo tetsuro #haikyuu kuroo #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro imagine #kuroo testuro #kuroo tetsuro x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x male reader #hq kuroo #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #kuroo angst

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intothewickedwood · 3 years

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Once Upon A Time Rewatch: 6x19 The Black Fairy

Peter Pan! So weird to think they were married but I mean they’re both kinda obsessed with collecting children that aren’t their son which is a weird coincidence.

Aww baby Rumple!

Malcolm looks so happy to have a baby. It seems it was the loss of Fiona that made him resent Rumple. Perhaps he could have been a father with her support but he just couldn’t handle being a single father. 

I wish we got to know more about fairy lore

Rumple was born in winter. He’s totally a Capricorn!

Aren’t Saviors meant to save realms from dark curses? But the dark curse wasn’t created yet. Maybe they retconned it and they’re just meant to save people.

That dragon egg is awfully convenient. What happened to the characters going on quests to find things like this? It’s too easy to wake Blue up.

Snow straight up strangling the Blue Fairy. I know it’s not her but I think Snow deserves that opportunity. 

Quick thinking Rumple with that cuff! 

Why does Emma have to have sleepy time too?

Is the shack Rumple was born in the same place he and Milah lived in? Probably not.

Yep. Really shouldn’t have given her that book of prophecies. What did they expect? Fiona to be overjoyed her son would die at the hands of a great evil?

Wait. It’s not possible for someone to turn themselves into a fairy? There must be something about Fiona. There’s something about that family, I swear. It seems they were all destined for great power and great evil.

Regina teaching Zelena to drive is the best thing ever but she totally could have escaped with Henry on her broom if things went wrong. If people in New York saw her and Henry flying high defying gravity they’d just think it was promo for Broadway’s Wicked.

Lmao! Omg Zelena! This scene is glorious!

Oh yeah, baby Robin could fit on the broom too. They’d make it work!

Regina: “I trust him to raise you.” Lol. So true but now I need all the fics with Henry raising his little cousin and Auntie in New York. 

The Black Fairy is so freaking creepy singing a lullaby to Blue.

The hatred emanating from the Black Fairy for Blue gives me shivers. 

And then she’s like “I’m so happy we get a chance to play,” and sits down like a child. Chills, I tell you! Like, Blue has completely destroyed who she used to be.

What was she going to do to the child if she’d found one with the crescent mark? 

Aww. Rumple breaking down and saying “I would do anything for you, son.” This man freaking loves his children. 

How did they end up in Rumple’s dream when Gideon was the first to be sprinkled with the night night sand?

Hook: “How do we know you are actually you.” Regina: “Because it’s me!” Sounds legit.

Aww, Hook just called Regina “love”. Are they getting along again, now? I saw a meta the other day that noted how Regina only started to dislike Hook when he got serious with Emma and I’m pretty sure that’s true. Interesting!

I wanted to see a proper witch fight dammit! For a show with so many sorcerers, we deserved more magical duels.

But omg Zelena suddenly running the Black Fairy over and her flipping over the car is the best thing in existence! 

Aww the sisters’ little smiles to each other. 

The sacred vault of the fairies? Are they, like, religious? 

This poor woman. I feel so sorry for her. She’s just desperately and feverishly trying to protect her baby. What did they expect from her? Most mothers would go to those lengths if they were told their child would suffer such a horrible fate. That would bring anyone to the end of their tether.

Omg wtf. “He’s destined to die so that other children may live.” That is a beyond cruel thing to say to the face of a mother. What the hell? Omg the pain on Fiona’s face. No child should be sacrificed for another. How heartless of the fairies.

So did Emma replace Rumple as the EF’s Savior or can their be multiple Saviors? 

Agggh this is so horrific. Poor Fiona finding out she is destined to kill her own child. She’s devastated. 

Oh, did she get the crescent scar when she was disarmed? 

Oh cool, the Black Fairy can project memories! That’s quite a unique power.

Blue could have saved a lot of people by remotely teleporting their hearts into her hands from the EQ’s or Cora’s and yet she didn’t.

She has a point. Even if she severed her destiny so she wouldn’t be the one to kill him, he could still be in danger from some other threat.

Blue, what the hell! Summoning a portal was absolutely uncalled for. What because she dared to upset you as you were so desperate for him to become the Savior for some reason? Probably part of her long-game evil plan. So what if he didn’t become a Savior?! Blue’s going on like that was the worst crime. She was just trying to protect him and you separated a doting mother who was no longer a danger to him from her child! You had no right! She is so self-righteous, I swear to god. It’s nothing to do with her. Who does she think she is?! Blue has ruined so many lives and gotten away with it because she believes she’s all high and mighty. She’s just as much of a villain as any other on this show. It makes me so mad. Poor Fiona. No wonder she hates Blue. 

Fiona: “I promise you son, I will spend every moment of every day trying to find my way back to you!”

I think she let Rumple hate her because it was too painful and she didn’t think she deserved his love. 

There are a lot of parallels between Rumple and his mother’s stories. They are much alike. 

Malcolm genuinely loved Fiona. He said she was the love of his life. Gosh I needed backstory with those two! After her he felt the only way he could be happy again was to return to childhood and Neverland so he didn’t have to think about Fiona. It was too painful. Easier to pretend he’d never loved. 

Malcolm must have lied to Rumple and told him his mother had abandoned him.

The fairies imply Fiona is dead to cover their own asses. They won’t say they banished her because they damn well know he’d fight them to get the love of his life back.

Lol. Sorry but calling your child Rumplestiltskin just to spite him is hilarious. What does it mean? Oh! It means “Little Rattle Stilt.” I mean it could have been worse it could have been “Little Sh*thead.” 

Also the Fairies hearing him blame the baby for his wife’s death should have rung alarm bells. They should have put him in a home where he’d be loved and cared for. Nope, just leave him with this guy who hates him.

Eww. They put a heart on the dinner table.

Giddy Up’s got his heart back! Yehaaaw!

“A seafaring man does not take superstitions likely.” So he is superstitious! He allowed a woman on his ship for years so maybe superstitions are different in the EF.

Oh my God, next week’s the musical episode!!!! I can’t wait!!!!

#ouat #once upon a time #rumplestiltskin #mr gold #mr. gold #the black fairy #ouat 6x19 #6x19 the black fairy #ouat rewatch #ouat rewatch 2019

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bots-and-cons · 3 years

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Just some ramblings once again I guess, I need to get this out of my system. First of all I'm sorry I haven't been posting much in the past few weeks. I literally haven't had any motivation, like none, nada, zero. I really want to write and post content, but like I said, motivation has been very low. I'll try to get more stuff out this week, if I get the inspiration for it. The rest of this post is just some shit I was thinking in the middle of the night.

I dislike that I have so much hate and anger in me. I hate my ex-step-mom, I hate her kids, I hate the dude who raped me, I'm angry at my dad, but above all I think I'm angry at myself for being so angry. It's not like my hatred isn't justified though. The shit my ex-step-mom put me through is not something I'd wish on anyone. I'm mad at my dad, because he never came between me and all that shit when I was a kid, and even though there is some resentment in me because of that, I've started working out those feelings by talking with my dad.

I have a lot of self-hatred too. It’s like I blame myself for everything that goes wrong in my life, even if it wasn’t my fault. I feel like a failure all the damn time and my depression and anxiety haven't really let me go at all in the past month or so.

My mental and physical health have been deteriorating, and I don't really feel like doing anything about either of those. I've just become a fat fuck that doesn't get anything done.

I've also been thinking if I'm committed to getting better. Physically I would say hell no. All I do is lay in bed all day and play games, read or write. So even though I should definitely lose weight, I haven't done anything about it in ages, which sucks. But mentally I guess so? I've identified more of my triggers and know to avoid them. I've been keeping up with how long I've been clean from self harm and messing around with pills. I use an app called "I am sober" and it's been working well with tracking my moods too. But still I don't feel like I'm doing enough, because I don't feel like I'm actively trying to get better. It's more like little things, and even though I know those are very good as well, it doesn't feel like it's enough. I feel like I should be more positive and active in my own health, even though I know I don't really have the mental resources to do that right now. Damn, taking care of yourself is hard.

I kinda live by the saying "here for a good time, not a long time". Because I like to do things that make me happy, no matter how unhealthy. And the thing that probably affects that mindset too, is that when I was like 13, I never thought I'd live this long, because I was always convinced I would off myself before hitting 18. Now, on bad days, I think I'll kill myself before I get to 30. It's like "the goal" has shifted, and maybe it'll keep doing that, maybe I'll hit 30 and "the goal" moves another ten or so years to the future.

The exam results will be released next Monday at the earliest and I'm anxious as hell. If I don't pass the exam, I'll give up on getting my advanced diploma and just take the normal one. I have no clue what I'm gonna do after I finish high school, maybe I'll work for a year to get some money and continue to a university or a polytechnic school after that.

There is still repair work going on in our building and they start really early in the morning and I hate it, luckily it shouldn't take more than like two weeks now and they've done all the noisy stuff already.

My little brother applied to schools so he will probably be moving out of our shared apartment in the fall, and moving to some other town on his own. I might offer my other younger brother to live with me for some days of the week, because it will be easier for him to get to school from here. He would still mainly live with our dad but he could sleep here some nights if he has early mornings at school. Or maybe my friend will move in with me, who knows, it's not really something I need to worry about right now.

Anyway if you read all this shit, thanks I guess. I mostly post this in hopes of acceptance and to get it out of my system, but I also like to complain/rant so there is that...

#ony speaks #depression #selfharm tw #abuse tw #rape tw

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a-secret-bolton-vampire · 3 years

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The Coming War for the North, Part 3: The Battle of the Bastards

To see the previous installments of this series, part 1 and part 2 are available to read here and here, respectively.

The idea that Jon and Ramsay would fight has been around for a while, even before the TV show. There are a lot of signs pointing to a similar confrontation in the books, but how it unfolds might be a little different from the show. In this final section, I'll get right down to business on this final battle for Winterfell, and the purpose and themes this plot line.

Two Snows & Winterfell

Jon and Ramsay are two very different, and somewhat very similar characters. Throughout ADWD Jon has letters sent by Ramsay detailing events transpiring in the North, including the retaking of Moat Cailin, and the marriage of Arya Stark (really Jeyne Poole) to the newly legitimized Ramsay Bolton. Stannis also begins his campaign to take the North, and sends letters to Jon detailing his movements and what he is doing. When confronted by Melisandre, Jon learns that Mance Rayder was actually Rattleshirt in magic disguise, and Rattleshirt is actually Mance in magic disguise, and with Melisandre's nudging, agrees to send Mance and six spearwives to rescue Arya from Winterfell.

Then Ramsay sends the pink letter and tells Jon that he defeated Stannis, has captured Mance, and demands Stannis's family and allies or he will attack the Night's Watch. Don't forget that Jon is the one who started this, not Ramsay. He was the instigator, helping Stannis and taking Arya away from Ramsay. Not to say Ramsay is in the right here morally (quite the opposite), but Jon did break his vows for this to happen, and he wasn't really on Ramsay's radar until this happened. Thus, ADWD has set up a rivalry between the two. However, the two characters have a lot in common to be set up as foils to each other.

Both are bastards of a very prominent noble lord of the North. Both resent their bastard status and yearn for approval to be a trueborn member of their House. And both want Winterfell. Ramsay already has Winterfell and is declared the Lord of Winterfell, while Jon nearly took Stannis's offer to be Lord of Winterfell, before rejecting it to keep his vows to the Night's Watch, while still yearning to have Winterfell. However, from there, they are complete opposites.

Ramsay is a demon in human skin, a sadistic serial killer and rapist who enjoys torture and murder, and has no regard for the laws of men. Meanwhile, Jon, as raised by Ned, is a noble and honourable person who tries his best to keep his oath and honour intact (although he does forsake it at the end of ADWD). In the season 4 DVD extras for Game of Thrones, GRRM himself even talks about this.

The relationship between Roose and Ramsay is, in some ways, a dark counterpoint to the relation between Ned Stark and Jon Snow. In both cases, a noble father with a bastard son. Jon and Ramsay are literally the opposite to each other. Jon is very noble and honorable. And Ramsay is none of those things. Roose himself is a cold and calculating man. A dispassionate man. "I placed far too much trust in you." But their treatment of the bastard son is very different. Ned keeps Jon Snow at Winterfell and he's raised with Robb and Bran. For all practical purposes, he is one of Ned's sons. Ramsay gets nothing from Roose.

Given the fact we have good build up between a rivalry between them, and that they are foils of each other, a confrontation between the two seems very likely. And even more so when you look both at the past history and at ADWD. The Stark-Bolton rivalry is the longest and most prominent feud in the North, supposedly dating back to the Long Night. Numerous wars were fought between the Red Kings from the Dreadfort and the Kings of Winter from Winterfell, some of them ending in Bolton victory. At least twice, two Bolton kings (both named Royce) took and burnt Winterfell (and it happened a third time in ACOK when Ramsay did it). The Boltons also were alleged to have flayed and worn the skins of Stark princes as cloaks.

In a way, this rivalry is a very dark, yet still grounded fantasy version of werwolves and vampires. There are quite a lot of stories including werewolves and vampires that have the two be natural enemies, with feuds that go back centuries sometimes. Of course, both the Starks and Boltons take on very clear roles as werewolves and vampires. Starks have warg blood in them (even if not all of them were wargs), and many of them have dreams at night of being a wolf and rampaging around, which sounds very much like old werewolf legends. The Boltons being vampires, on the other hand, is less magical and more implied.

The Boltons have this unearthly, sinister feel and look to them that makes them appear somewhat inhuman, with pale eyes variously described as dirty chips of ice or pale moons, and a look about themselves that is similar to some descriptions of vampires. Then of course there is the Dreadfort, a spooky old castle ruled by a very spooky and yet somewhat cultured man (Dracula anyone)? Then of course we have all the very creepy images of Boltons flaying people, and Ramsay sometimes writing using human blood as ink.

Basically, what I'm saying is that ASOIAF has done what Twilight did but better.

To go back to the future, it makes thematic and narrative sense for the Starks to retake Winterfell from their ancient nemesis. The rivalry began between a Stark and a Bolton, and will end with a Stark bastard and a Bolton bastard, fighting over dominance of the North and of Winterfell.

The Battle of the Bastards

At first glance, it seems like it's a no brainer for how this battle will unfold. Ramsay is gonna lose a lot of support, and Jon will have all the support and completely demolish Ramsay. However, while I do think it will end in victory for Jon (and not without outside help), I think that both are going to be in rather desperate positions, Jon maybe more so.

After Jon's resurrection, there is no question in my mind that he is going to head south. Those were his last thoughts and actions as he died, similar to how Catelyn killing a Frey and her grief of losing her family was the last action and thought before she died, and Beric protecting the smallfolk from the Mountain was his last act before dying. Given the strong implication he is inside Ghost, coming back, we should expect a darker, different Jon, one who doesn't give a shit, is more violent, and more determined. Of course, if he is to retake Winterfell, he should need support.

Fortunately, right before he died, he got all the free folk to cheer for him and agree to join him. Mix those free folk with the giants and mammoths that were recently let past Eastwatch, and he might have a formidable force. However, of the 4,119 or so free folk that are currently south of the Wall, not all of them are fighters. If we take the estimate for 20,000 warriors and 100,000 free folk in total, then we should expect around 820+ free folk capable of fighting. Not a lot. He will need some outside help. Of course, there is already set up for that in ADWD, when he marries Alys Karstark to Magnar Sigorn of Thenn.

He tells a captive Cregan Karstark to send word to his relatives at Karhold and yield to prevent their deaths, but Cregan stubbornly refuses. Alys believes Karhold will open their gates to her, and Alys is thankful for Jon Snow providing her refuge at the Wall and a marriage to get out of an even worse one she did not want. The strength of Karhold may not be the best, but it seems very likely for Karhold to join Jon and his cause, under the banners of Alys.

As for the other houses of the North, I don't expect much more support. Think about how Jon will look to the Northmen. He is a bastard, and those are already quite condemned throughout the North (and Westeros in general). He broke his vows by leaving the Night's Watch, and since the North takes vows and oaths and honour much more seriously than the rest of Westeros, being an oathbreaker who abandoned the Wall is not going to make him popular. And finally, he is leading a band of wildlings south. The North despises the free folk, thinking of them as savages, thanks to centuries of conflict with them. So the picture of Jon painted as an oathbreaking wildling bastard is going to be a major problem for him. At worst, he would be viewed just as evil and treacherous as Ramsay, the other prominent bastard in the North.

In fact, even if Ramsay loses a lot of support from his own actions (more later), he could use this to his advantage. At best, the northerns who hate Jon will remain neutral in the conflict, but at worst, they might even ally with the Boltons. The clansmen have a deep hatred of House Bolton, but they also have a very deep hatred of the free folk, so they may actually remain neutral. The Umbers are another House that deals frequently with wildlings, and many years prior, Crowfood lost his daughter to wildlings raiding south of the Wall. So instead of Jon's presence invigorating the Umbers to fight against Ramsay, their own vehement hatred of the wildlings might lead them to simply stick with Ramsay.

However, that isn't to say everything will go swimmingly for Ramsay. Their hold on the North is tentative, and if Ramsay kills Roose and Walda and their child, it could become even more unstable. For one, Lady Barbrey Dustin isn't loyal to the Boltons, but instead loyal to Roose. Her sister was the former wife of Roose, and Domeric was her nephew, so Lady Dustin has reason to be on friendly terms with Roose. On the other hand, she despises Ramsay, blaming him for Domeric's death, and not even allowing him to step foot in Barrow Hall because of it. In turn, Ramsay also holds her in contempt.

"It should have been you who threw the feast, to welcome me back," Ramsay complained, "and it should have been in Barrow Hall, not this pisspot of a castle." "Barrow Hall and its kitchens are not mine to dispose of," his father said mildly. "I am only a guest there. The castle and the town belong to Lady Dustin, and she cannot abide you." Ramsay's face darkened. "If I cut off her teats and feed them to my girls, will she abide me then? Will she abide me if I strip off her skin to make myself a pair of boots?" "Unlikely. And those boots would come dear. They would cost us Barrowton, House Dustin, and the Ryswells."

If Roose dies, not only would Lady Dustin probably suspect Ramsay, but she would simply not follow Ramsay. So already, just by becoming Warden of the North and Lord of the Dreadfort, Ramsay would lose the Dustins and the Ryswells. Of course, since Lady Dustin does have a grievance with the Starks because Ned never brought her husband home from Dorne, I think she would probably remain neutral in the conflict.

Other houses might leave Ramsay too. Some might stay simply out of fear of retaliation for betrayal. It will depend on the House, their head, their own needs and goals, etc. As for the actual battle itself, who knows what will happen. However, I do think that Ramsay will likely try to lure Jon into some sort of trap rather than give him a direct face to face confrontation. There is also very interesting foreshadowing and even direct confirmation that the battle is going to be possibly more magical than we might believe it to be. Not only are there giants and mammoths... in the final script GRRM wrote for the show, he put in this note:

[N.B. A note for future reference. A season or two down the line Ramsay’s pack of wolfhounds are going to be sent against the Stark direwolves, so we should build up the dogs as much as possible in this and subsequent episodes.]

So the hounds are going to fight the Stark direwolves... wait, direwoves? Not direwolf? Curious...

The Pack Survives

I purposefully avoided the other factions of the North there, because the heart of the conflict will be Ramsay vs. Jon. But Jon won't be alone, at least not entirely. There is Rickon, who is to be touted as the Lord of Winterfell by the Manderlys so they can support Stannis. He isn't even the only Stark who could join in. Sansa is in the Vale under the guise of Alayne Stone. Arya keeps warging into Nymeria, who leads a massive pack of hundreds of wolves throughout the Riverlands. Bran is training his demigod greenseeing powers beyond the Wall with Bloodraven and is definitely manipulating events far south of the Wall.

So, the plural of direwolves makes me think Ghost won't be the only Stark direwolf fighting against Ramsay. We could get Nymeria's wolf pack joining as well, and Shaggydog, or even Summer (if Bran is in the North at this time that is). In fact, the idea that Ramsay will fight against Rickon is something that is heavily hinted at in ADWD.

The next litter to come out of the Dreadfort's kennels would include a Kyra, Reek did not doubt. "He's trained 'em to kill wolves as well," Ben Bones had confided. Reek said nothing. He knew which wolves the girls were meant to kill, but he had no wish to watch the girls fighting over his severed toe.

And then, more directly...

"Stark's little wolflings are dead," said Ramsay, sloshing some more ale into his cup, "and they'll stay dead. Let them show their ugly faces, and my girls will rip those wolves of theirs to pieces. The sooner they turn up, the sooner I kill them again."

Ramsay may be impulsive and unaware of intricate politics, but he seems prepared for what to do should Bran or Rickon show themselves again. This makes me worried for Rickon, honestly. Will Ramsay capture Rickon and keep him prisoner as hold over Jon Snow? Will he kill Rickon like he did in the show? I really, really hope not, but I'm afraid that's exactly what will happen.

There is a line that Ned spoke in AGOT that George says will eventually be very important, that I think perfectly applies to this situation.

"When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."

Ned speaks to Arya about this in King's Landing, to get her to understand that the Starks should not fight one another in times of danger, or be isolated from each other, but look after one another, protect each other. Winter has now come, the snows are falling and the white winds are blowing. Who is the lone wolf in this scenario? While Jon certainly fits the bill (he literally is a lone wolf, it's very clear at the end of ADWD he was prepared to ride to Winterfell all by himself until he got the wildlings to his side), I think Rickon could too.

Rickon is very isolated from everyone else, even when he was at Winterfell. He was only 4 years old, and didn't understand why everyone was leaving him. Given the plan to use Rickon as a pawn to reinstall Stark rule of the North being something we can cheer for and expect to happen, I don't think it will happen. Rickon, the lone wolf, will be used to try to depose Ramsay, but it won't go well, and he will die because of it.

Jon will probably find himself in a bad position in battle too, and very nearly die as the lone wolf... but now that winter is here, and everyone is starting to converge on Winterfell at some point, I think that it won't be Jon who ultimately retakes Winterfell: it will be all the Starks. Sansa may be in the Vale, but Littlefinger plans to use her to take Winterfell back at some point (even if it won't go exactly to plan).

"When Robert dies, Harry the Heir becomes Lord Harrold, Defender of the Vale and Lord of the Eyrie. Jon Arryn's bannermen will never love me, nor our silly, shaking Robert, but they will love their Young Falcon . . . and when they come together for his wedding, and you come out with your long auburn hair, clad in a maiden's cloak of white and grey with a direwolf emblazoned on the back . . . why, every knight in the Vale will pledge his sword to win you back your birthright."

Arya is having a lot of wolf dreams as Nymeria, and GRRM has said that her wolf pack will one day be used as a Chekov's gun. Bran may be far away, but he is getting more powerful and beginning to influence events as far south as Winterfell. The pack comes together to survive in winter, to help Jon and the North by defeating their enemies.

So as Jon fights against the bastard he so deeply despises, it won't just be him. It'll be the Knights of the Vale, led by Sansa. It'll be Nymeria and her wolf pack, piloted by Arya. It'll be Bran, skinchanging into whatever is around. TWOW may end up being the darkest book in the series, and the retaking of Winterfell won't be as glorious as we imagine or even as I spelt it out (Rickon's death and the perception the North has of Jon should play very big roles in making it not entirely happy), but this will be maybe one of our only moment of deserved catharsis we might get from it.

#asoiaf #asoiaf meta #jon snow #ramsay bolton #bran stark #arya stark #sansa stark #rickon stark #winterfell #the winds of winter #the winds of winter predictions

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cookidoodle · 3 years

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To commemorate my fall back into hyperfixating on Danganronpa V3, I’m going to talk about my favorite Danganronpa V3 playthroughs (as I am a loser who has never actually played any of the series games and just watched them instead.)

My list under the cut.

Weeby Newz

Obviously a classic. Weeby just has an enjoyable playthrough to watch and listen to. It’s fun to hear her theories and her passion about this game series. Her reactions to the mysteries and murders are also fun. Her “expertise” on the game franchise made her outlook on this game all the more interesting as she could use a different angle of insight on the plot twists to come.

I also enjoyed her commentary after the game on the ending and her character analysis videos are always a blast to

NicoB

Nico is just a fun guy to watch playthroughs of. He revels in the absurdity of the Danganronpa franchise and has made it a part of his brand almost (see his Council of Voices series, where he essentially takes and builds upon the characters of various games, Danganronpa very much included, with his own voice acting prowess.) it’s fun to see how he cares for the characters and even tries to look deeper into their motives and motivations, even if it’s so he can take the piss out of them (but who can blame him, this whole franchise is just a very fun one.)

At the beginning of every video he starts off with his favorite skit/bit from the previous one and it’s just so clear how much he’s enjoying the game(s), even when they go balls-to-the-walls bonkers.

Joseph Anderson

So Joe is one my favorites for a plethora of reasons. His whole blind playthrough of the Danganronpa series has been so funny to watch. He both detests what he’s playing but also indulges in the batshittery of it all. He’s posted all his Twitch livestreams on Youtube, but if you just want to see what I mean, there’s a few highlight reals out there for you to get a sample of just what this man is capable of.

To begin, Joe is pretty smart from what I’ve seen and he connects dots that I, and some of the others on this list would have missed. Because of his stance on the games (not as a super not weeb) he’s able to kind of critique and just have a laugh about the absurd plot and characters. But it’s also clear that he can at least also find enjoyment in certain aspects of this series, as fucking crazy as it can get.

He’s here to laugh both with and at the games, and I’m all the more here for it. His seething hatred for Himiko Yumeno is also a blast, especially since he continues to give her a “voice” as he plays. It’s just a jolly good time, if you’re willing to take a step back from being a hardcore fan and just enjoy some critique and some killer jokes.

Kubz Scouts

I honestly didn’t think Jay would be playing Danganronpa. I don’t really watch Jay all that much but I’ve binged his gameplays of all three main Danganronpa games. I gotta say, I’m impressed with how invested he was with the game and the characters.

I remembered watching CinnamonToastKen’s gameplay of V3 and was just kind of reminded of how bored and tired Ken got towards the end, I thought that resentment towards the game series might repeat here. But Jay’s investment in the characters and trials has made his playthrough so much fun to watch.

It’s great to see him theorize and even better to see him light up when he’s right. He appreciates aspects of the games that others might take for granted which makes me so happy as a fan of the games. His love for the characters and their wacky arcs has just resparked my love for this goddamn game franchise too. I love it. I wouldn’t have guessed that Jay would enjoy or have fun with games like these (due to just how crazy and contrived the trials can be), but it makes me happy that he does. Though, as he’s said a lot in a few videos, they are a lot of talking (as they’re basically mystery visual novels), but I’m so glad he’s having fun with them.

The way he likes even the Monokubs in V3, it just--. Ya ever feel like the greatest sort of feeling when someone kinda thinks on ya wave length? It’s kind of like that, my man understands this game, or at the very least is making the most out of it and turning it into such a fun time. Like having a ball, even if the plot twists in this game can be topsy-turvy and super weird.

Annnddd, okay, you got me. Those four are the only playthroughs I’ve watched, but they’re still my favorite. I guess I wouldn’t keep watching to the end if I wasn’t enjoying the playthrough. Just as well I suppose.

But if you’ve already watched through Weeby or Nico, check out Joseph Anderson for a more cynical (but still hilarious) take on DRV3 and also check out Jay from the Kubz Scouts so he’ll post Chapter 6 of V3 to Youtube :00

#Danganronpa #Danganronpa V3 #Weeby Newz #NicoB #DRV3 #Joseph Anderson #Kubz Scouts

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yokelish · 3 years

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Worth millions II

✏ Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs ✏ Characters: Chūya Nakahara, Dazai Osamu ✏ Word count: 1,977 ✏ Warnings: Ansgstober in November. ✏ Part I.

Dazai abandoned him after promising he wouldn’t. “People change, Chūya.” What a devious bastard. This miserable vagabond is incapable of change. Nakahara wasn’t disappointed. Not that he had much strength to hold on to disappointment, only persistent resentment. That crafty bastard was twisted to his very core. Nothing changes, and nothing can touch him. Maybe that quality was fanning the embers of Chūya’s hatred: Dazai’s ability to escape any sort of retribution. Slippery like a snake, crafty, and absolutely unscrupulous. The moment you think the hand of fate is about to touch him, it’s absolutely nullified. Dazai didn’t lose any people to Q’s curse, while Nakahara had to count the body bags. Dazai was never stabbed in the back since he was doing the stabbing, always. He was the one making the deals and collecting dues. He never lost, even in silly arcade games. Always unaffected, always unhurt, always a perfect player. The taller they stand the harder they fall. Deep down Chūya knew it was no longer about what his ex-partner deserved. It wasn’t about rivalry or revenge. He rather sadistically wanted to witness there was something that could touch Dazai, something that could hurt. Something to prove the bandaged bastard was just a tiny bit capable of feeling pain. Pity Chūya couldn’t do it himself. It would bring him immense satisfaction. No money he wouldn’t pay to see an expression of hurt, of pain, on Dazai’s face. To behold such masterpiece. Unfortunately, he can never buy it. He cannnot bring it to life, can’t push for it. Perhaps, it was time to admit he couldn’t hurt Dazai the way he wanted him to hurt. That sort of anguish Nakahara could never inflict to begin with. To twist the sinews of that rotten heart only for it to begin to beat? To bear witness to that moment, to look him in the eye… That would be truly marvellous. Chūya would relish in that moment if only he could. But it wasn’t in his power.

If there was no enemy who could take on Dazai — if karmic retribution was just a fancy tale to soothe a grudging soul, — then there could be only way for Chūya to get what he wanted. He refused to believe Dazai could forever remain untouchable. It had to be just the right sort of…touch. “Plus, I don’t know how I would look them in the eye.” It was never an issue before. Dazai was a perfect machine, an Executive with mafia-black blood. Hesitation wasn’t a part of his nature. The Agency might be riding the high horse, but why would it stop someone like him? Lie, writhe your way out. Dazai detested Q and their ability, Chūya knew firsthand. He felt the same, especially after the massacre. So why did that bandaged wretch resist it? People might change, but people and humanity have nothing to do with Dazai. “A logical decision.” No, it couldn’t simply be that when it came to someone as crafty as Dazai. He held himself back and it had to be for some selfish, miserable reason.

The only person who was good at getting to Dazai was he himself. His own arrogance got him wrecked by that inhuman thing from the Guild. His taunting what got him punched in the face. The only person who could bring down Dazai would be Dazai himself. People might be capable of change. Dazai wasn’t. Something about tonight’s escapade made Chūya sure of that. The bastard said it himself, and his prediction do always come true. “But relationships are built on trust and honesty.” The things Dazai could never offer: trust, honesty, loyalty. And nothing has changed. The vagabond could never run away from his shady nature, he wouldn’t this time either. Shadows only grow longer at the end of the day. Someone would have to wipe that sickening smile off his face. And Chūya would do anything to see that. If he couldn’t do it himself, he would still gladly watch as Dazai becomes his own undoing. For that one single sweetest moment of Dazai’s self-realization and anguish of knowing he did it himself, Chūya would gladly give millions. And the thought of it alone brought a sweet, vanilla ice-cream taste to his mouth.

Dazai was returning to his laughably cheap Agency-issued apartment somewhere before dawn. Still snickering about what had happened with his ex-partner. But aside from humour, he also felt a long-forgotten satisfaction from taunting the small dog. A good book is always good, no matter how many times you read it. Something about taunting Chūya was of similar nature, never getting boring. The anger painting a face sharp and vivid, the resentment amplifying now estranged voice. Lovely and complete picture. Dazai walked up to the door of his apartment, humming a soft melody of amusement. Yet the best moment was hat rack’s horrible realization dawning slowly yet powerfully. Knowing that he was toyed with, read with ease like a children’s book. That expression took away some of the pain from the punch thrown. Dazai turned the doorknob. The metal felt cold against his skin. “You like them, don’t you?” He found the answer as he was phrasing the question. He knew his ex-partner all too well. Nakahara really did not have a good enough mask to hide behind. Nothing had changed there. Was it strange to know they happened to be drawn towards the same person? Hm, ‘drawn towards’ isn’t quite the expression Dazai would use in his case. He sighed as his amusement disappeared, gone without a trace or even an echo to follow it into the distance.

“Oh god, finally.” All too familiar voice inside his apartment. It echoed, filling him with dread. “I was worried.”

He entered without much noise, expecting nothing. Yet they were here, waiting patiently despite sounding exhausted. He didn’t expect to see anyone. He didn’t want to see anyone.

“Are you alright?” they asked, worried. “Let me turn on the—”

“Don’t,” Dazai interjected, making half a step towards them. But that was the end of it. Two silhouettes frozen in the splitting darkness of the room. The first light of the day beyond the horizon creeping inside.

“I have first aid kit with me,” they offered. Dazai could feel the shaking of disturbed silence like a slumbered beast prodded. And he couldn’t make himself move or say anything. He felt blank, optionless, knowing, perhaps, that any choice he’d make would be the wrong one. Of course, they entered his apartment. Amusingly good pick locker that one. What grated him is that he didn’t notice the disturbance or predicted this situation. And that, somehow, that felt like a betrayal.

“You are both blessed and cursed that you can’t rely on Yosano’s help to fix you up,” they continued talking, moving towards him cautiously. “I hate to do it in this light, but…” The willed objected floated behind them suspended in the air, beckoned by their ability.

“I’m sorry,” they spoke quietly, cautiously. There was a light touch against his forehead, he used it as an excuse to turn away, create more distance. Looking askew, anywhere but at them. As the light of the day was slowly filing the room and creating long shadows. The silence between them was a tame beast, stirring but not waking.

They draw a long shaky breath as a telling sign of unease. “I shouldn’t have gone behind your back like that.”

Every possible choice he had was a wrong one, Dazai knew. What should he say in this situation? Claim that it didn’t bother him would only make them more suspicious of his truthfulness. A too easy forgiveness would seem dismissive. There was no umbrage to admit to either. But he doubted that would be taken at face value. Their sudden presence inside his apartment was a greater grievance, but he would only come across as ungrateful and reticent.

“I just thought,” they tried to continue, voicing failing and fading out. “I just thought I could get—”

“Information,” Dazai finished the sentence passively. It didn’t really bother him. There was no surprise to this, no disappointment, no resentment. He would have done the same. It was just… lacking. Perhaps, something in him knew that this would happen and soon. But he felt nothing, feels nothing regarding the matter as if it was something awfully routine.

“To know you,” they corrected him sternly. So sternly, in fact, it sounded comedic. He barely contained his laugh. But despite the steadiness of their voice, Dazai didn’t buy into that false confidence. He heard their breathing moments before, the hesitation, the care put into their words. It didn’t flatter him the least.

He sighed. What a kind yet empty attempt to appease on both sides. “To know about me. To know me, that’s—”

“I meant what I said. To know you.” Gentle hands dropped from his forehead and on their knees as if in defeat. “You left, Dazai. You left Port Mafia. People don’t just leave those sorts of places on a whim. Especially, someone like you… You were something there, Dazai. Someone.”

“I was just one of the Executives,” he brushed it off. As if that sort of chip on one’s shoulder could be so easily snubbed. “You want to know what I’ve done.”

Their uneasy laugh surprised Dazai. “No, I am not devoid of imagination,” they said with a touch of humour in their voice. It wasn’t funny, both knew. One hand was placed on his shoulder, the other gently wiped the wound on his forehead. There were many minor cuts and bruises, but they only touched those visible and easily accessible. Gentle, non-invasive, almost respectful.

“You can’t hold it against me,” they continued to talk never ceasing to take care of him. Dazai could hear the smile in their voice but couldn’t see it, wouldn’t dare. For such close proximity and physical contact, they had yet to meet eye to eye. “Wanting to know why you came there and why you left later. But I admit that I went about it the wrong way.”

They never asked him why he came to Port Mafia or why he left. And, truthfully, he couldn’t blame them for not asking. He wouldn’t be able to meet an expectations of a full and honest answer. Dazai didn’t have such answer himself yet, and what words he could offer would never touch another person’s heart. The answer he could give right now was anything but guileless or cordial. To meet expectations he’d have to look inside himself and he hated doing that. Wasn’t it enough that he did?

“No,” they answered. “You have to say something.”

What could he say? Every option would turn out to be wrong in the end. There was no desired way out of this situation. It could only be buried as an unspoken thing between them. Then it would sprout into something else — something dichotomous — and eventually grow bigger than them. What could he say to kill the seed before it sprouted? “You like them, don’t you? You like them.” As bitter as it was, Dazai had to admit one thing Chūya was better at was being simply human.

“I better go—”

“I accept your apology,” Dazai stated neutrally. He couldn’t take a moment longer to pitifully ponder his answer and try to predict less messy outcome. He knew that if he simply let them leave it would be the end of it. His own undoing delivered in a single precise blow.

“And I don’t blame you for wanting to know,” he placed his hand on top of theirs, taking it away from his forehead. For the first time their eyes meet. And he lost confidence in his plan. A simple lie to meet their expectations melted in his mouth leaving a sweet aftertaste.

#yokelishtorturesenglish #bsd fanfic #bsd scenarios #bsd imagines #bsd dazai #bsd chuuya #dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #nakahara chuuya x reader #chuuya x reader

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seriousbusinessforhumans · 3 years

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Feb 2018

The Southern Poverty Law Center (SPLC) counted over 100 people killed or injured by alleged perpetrators influenced by the so-called "alt-right" — a movement that continues to access the mainstream and reach young recruits.

On December 7, 2017, a 21-year-old white male posing as a student entered Aztec High School in rural New Mexico and began firing a handgun, killing two students before taking his own life. At the time, the news of the shooting went largely ignored, but the online activity of the alleged killer, William Edward Atchison, bore all the hallmarks of the “alt-right”—the now infamous subculture and political movement consisting of vicious trolls, racist activists, and bitter misogynists.

But Atchison wasn’t the first to fit the profile of alt-right killer—that morbid milestone belongs to Elliot Rodger, the 22-year-old who in 2014 killed seven in Isla Vista, California, after uploading a sprawling manifesto filled with hatred of young women and interracial couples (Atchison went by “Elliot Rodger” in one of his many online personas and lauded the “supreme gentleman,” a title Rodger gave himself and has since become a meme on the alt-right).

Including Rodger’s murderous rampage there have been at least 13 alt-right related fatal episodes, leaving 43 dead and more than 60 injured (see list). Nine of the 12 incidents counted here occurred in 2017 alone, making last year the most violent year for the movement.

Like Atchison and Rodger, these perpetrators were all male and, with the exception of three men, all under the age of 30 at the time they are alleged to have killed. The average age of the alt-right killers is 26. The youngest was 17. One, Alexandre Bissonnette, is Canadian, but the rest are American.

The “alternative right” was coined in part by white nationalist leader Richard Bertrand Spencer in 2008, but the movement as it’s known today can largely be traced back to 2012 and 2013 when two major events occurred: the killing of the black teenager Trayvon Martin and the so-called Gamergate controversy where female game developers and journalists were systematically threatened with rape and death. Both were formative moments for a young generation of far-right activists raised on the internet and who found community on chaotic forums like 4chan and Reddit where the classic tenets of white nationalism — most notably the belief that white identity is under attack by multiculturalism and political correctness — flourish under dizzying layers of toxic irony.

The Killings Started in California

The timeline for alt-right killers began on May 23, 2014.

On that day, college sophomore Elliot Rodger stabbed his three roommates to death before driving to a sorority house at the University of California, Santa Barbara, and shooting several women. He then killed or injured several pedestrians with both gunfire and his vehicle before exchanging fire with police and eventually taking his own life. He ultimately killed seven and wounded 14.

Rodger left behind a sprawling 107,000-word manifesto titled, “My Twisted World: The Story of Elliot Rodger,” which contained passages lamenting his inability to find a girlfriend, expressing extreme misogyny and various racist positions including disgust for interracial couples (despite the fact that he was multi-racial himself (half-Chinese)).

“How could an inferior, ugly black boy be able to get a white girl and not me? I am beautiful, and I am half white myself,” Rodger wrote. “I am descended from British aristocracy. He is descended from slaves.”

Rodger frequented PUAhate, a deeply misogynistic forum populated by failed “pick up artists” dedicated to revealing, “the scams, deception, and misleading marketing techniques used by dating gurus and the seduction community to deceive men and profit from them.” Discussions about women on the forum are at best objectifying and at worst, violent.

The term, “white sharia,” allegedly coined by Sacco Vandal of the popular alt-right site Vandal Void, is a radical response to Patrick Buchanan’s argument in Death of the West: that the increase in immigration and decline of white birthrates is leading to the end of Western civilization. Rodger’s celebration at the 504um, one of the premier alt-right forums, is the rule rather than the exception, and locates misogyny at the core of the alt-right.

Andrew Anglin, the neo-Nazi Daily Stormer’s founder and chief propagandist, has his own troubling history of vicious misogyny, tracking all the way back to high school.

In the aftermath of Rodger’s killing spree, a user at 4chan/b/ posted a photo from Rodger’s Facebook page with the note, “Elliot Rodger, the supreme gentleman, was part of /b/. Discuss.” This sentiment was echoed by other /b/ users who found similarities between his lexicon and that of the noxious board, including the term “beta,” used by men online to describe themselves as lacking the physicality, charisma and confidence associated with alpha males.... The term resurfaced on 4chan/r9k/ in the wake of a shooting at Umpqua Community College in Roseburg, Oregon, by Chris Harper-Mercer, who killed nine and wounded at least seven others at the college on October 1, 2015. “This is only the beginning. The Beta Rebellion has begun,” one anonymous user wrote. “Soon, more of our brothers will take up arms to become martyrs to this revolution.”

Although never proven, it is widely speculated that Harper-Mercer was a user on the board as warnings against attending school the following day that circulated on the eve of the shooting. Authorities believe Harper-Mercer, who like Rodger was multi-racial, was also motivated by white supremacist ideas. The Government Accountability Office categorized the Roseburg killings as “white supremacist” in an April 2017 report.

2017: A Year of Alt-Right Violence

The first killing in 2017 that can be tied to the alt-right occurred on January 29 in Canada. A 27-year-old university student named Alexandre Bissonnette allegedly brought a semiautomatic rifle into the Islamic Cultural Centre of Quebec City and shot and killed six worshippers while injuring 19—two critically.

On May 20, 2017, Sean Urbanski, a 22-year-old University of Maryland student, allegedly stabbed and killed newly commissioned Lt. Richard Collins, III. Authorities described the attack as “totally unprovoked.” Urbanski approached Collins, who was black, and two friends at 3 a.m., seemingly intoxicated, and said, “Step left, step left if you know what’s best for you.” When Collins refused, Urbanski stabbed him. Urbanski, however, was a member of a Facebook group called “Alt Reich: Nation”.

Less than a week later, Jeremy Christian, a 35-year-old Portland resident, allegedly stabbed and killed two people and severely wounded another passenger on a train while they were defending two young women from his anti-Muslim and racist remarks. Christian, who identified as a white nationalist and had a history of violence and mental illness, had a Facebook page filled with racist and bizarre political content. Witnesses at an alt-right free speech rally in the month preceding the stabbing saw Christian wearing an American flag cape, yelling racial slurs and making Nazi salutes.

Two months later, on July 14, 2017, Lane Maurice Davis, 33, allegedly stabbed his father, Charles Davis, to death at the family home in Skagit County, Washington, after accusing his father of pedophilia. Davis, a conspiracy theory obsessive who went by the name ‘Seattle4Truth’ online and accused his father, not based on his own experience, but instead on his belief that liberals around the world are participating in secret pedophilia rings. Davis was reportedly a researcher for Milo Yiannopoulos and claimed to have ghost written pieces on Breitbart News for the former tech editor.

In the months leading up to Unite the Right, members of the alt-right colonized and organized themselves on the gaming chat platform Discord. This includes Auernheimer who was a frequent participant in the Daily Stormer’s server, “Thunderdome,” where he regularly interacted with site readers and put out calls for action.

Young, White, Angry, Male

According to Dr. Eric Madfis, author of a 2014 paper on the intersectional identities of American Mass Murderers, young, white, middle class, heterosexual males commit mass murder at a disproportionately high rate relative to their population size in the United States.

The rate of mass murders spiked in the 1970s and 1990s. Between 1966 and 1999, there were 95 cases of mass public shootings. Between 1976 and 2008, mass murders occurred roughly twice per month, claiming an average of 125 deaths each month. A more recent study published by Mother Jones identifies 95 mass shootings in the United States since 1982. Of those, 55 (59%) were committed by white men.

FBI crime data suggests that ages 16 to 24 are peak time for violent crime. According to Dr. Pete Simi, Director of the Earl Babbie Research Center at Chapman University, "This is a period of substantial transition in an individual's life, when they're less likely to have significant attachments in their life that deter them from criminal violence."

Madfis’s 2014 paper from the University of Washington investigates the role of intersectional identities in mass murder incidents and argues that young, white males' unique downward social mobility, relative to his expectations, accounts for their overrepresentation as perpetrators of mass murder.

Only one in five mass murderers are “likely psychotic or delusional,” however, according to Dr. Michael Stone, a forensic psychiatrist at Columbia University.

A 2001 study conducted by Meloy examining 34 adolescent perpetrators of mass murder found that 59% were the direct result of a triggering event. That rate jumped to 90% among adult mass murders.

Dr. Elliott Leyton, an expert on serial homicide, argues that contemporary mass murderers often target the perceived source of lost financial stability or class prestige. The alt-right, which couches its mission in terms of surviving literal extinction, routinely laments so-called reverse racism and affirmative action as well as immigration in all its forms.

The grievances collected by those motivated by the white nationalist ideology at the heart of the alt-right often do not begin with racist propaganda, but rather in the toxic communities of the men's rights movement... The age-old racist argument - that black men are 'taking our women' — is made regularly. Racist slurs are chucked around casually. There seems to be a significant overlap with organised white supremacy."

Andrew Anglin once wrote “[o]ur target audience [for the neo-nazi website Daily Stormer] is white males between the ages of 10 and 30.”

Wiring Young Neurons

“Our target audience is white males between the ages of 10 and 30,” Anglin wrote in his “PSA: When the Alt-Right Hits the Street, You Wanna be Ready.” “I include children as young a ten, because an element of this is that we want to look like superheroes. We want to be something that boys fantasize about being a part of. That is a core element to this. I don’t include men over the age of 30, because after that point, you are largely fixed in your thinking. We will certainly reach some older men, but they should not be a focus.”

[Richard] Spencer told Mother Jones in December of 2016 before a contentious speaking engagement at Texas A&M University. “I think you do need to get them while they are young. I think rewiring the neurons of someone over 50 is effectively impossible.”

Undeniably, their efforts have had success. Mainstay racist conferences, like the annual gatherings of American Renaissance and the National Policy Institute, are attracting larger audiences, no longer dominated by their once singular demographic of middle-aged white men.

On a panel at Harvard University in October, Derek Black, son of longtime white supremacist Don Black, who once represented the future of the movement until he renounced racism during college, described his surprise at seeing so many young participants in Charlottesville:

I can say for sure my entire life in white nationalism I went to conferences many times a year. I spoke at them. I tried to organize them. I organized online through my dad's site [Stormfront] through organizations whether Jared [Taylor]'s AmRen or David [Duke]'s EURO or Council of Conservative Citizens … Everybody at these things is gray-haired. Me and two other people would be under 40. That was it. Which is partly why I took this impression that this is not gonna last. And a lot of that is because young people have a lot to lose … Young people who show up to a rally like that are going to get their identities exposed online and then it's gonna be hard for them to get jobs … I cannot actually explain what changed. The one striking thing about Charlottesville…was there's a ton of young kids like college-age or actual college students who got on buses and went to this who I don't think had been to an event like that before.

Alt-right groups such as Identity Evropa and Vanguard America are marketing themselves exclusively to college and high school-aged individuals.

Then, on October 19, barely two months after the chaos of Charlottesville, the University of Florida was forced to host a Spencer speaking engagement under threat of a lawsuit........................ Hours later, three of his supporters were arrested for attempted murder after an alleged confrontation with protestors in which Spencer’s supporters threw stiff-armed salutes and one fired a shot at the urging of his accomplices.

Not Even 21

James Alex Fields was only 20 years-old when he drove his Dodge Challenger into a crowd of attendees and protestors during August’s Unite the Right rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, injuring 19 and killing 32-year-old Heather Heyer. Fields stood with members of Vanguard America during the rally and carried a shield with the militaristic, alt-right group’s insignia on it.

According to police records, Fields also had a troubling history of childhood domestic violence — which experts see in about 1 in 6 mass killers. In 2010, Field’s mother called 911 after he attacked her for telling him to stop playing a video game. Other records reveal that he brandished a 12-inch knife at her on a separate occasion. His disabled mother uses a wheelchair.

Just three months prior to Unite the Right, another young, white man with a history in the alt-right, 18-year-old Devon Arthurs, allegedly killed two of his roommates... in Florida. Arthurs, who was taken into custody by authorities after holding employees of a tobacco shop hostage, had converted to Salafism, an ultraconservative form of Sunni Islam, and begun defending ISIS online a year prior. He was previously a leader of a National Socialist group known as the Atomwaffen (“Atomic Weapon”) Division which formed on the fascist forum Iron March.

In the year leading up to the shooting, Arthurs appeared to be blending his alt-right beliefs with his newfound adherence to extremist forms of Islam. His username changed from Weissewolfe to Kekman Al-Amriki, a combination of the trollish god of “meme magic” common to 4chan and the name of an American member of al-Shabab, an Islamic militant organization. According to VICE, Arthurs also spoke of “white sharia,” a concept exemplifying the brutal, misogynistic core attitudes of the alt-right and those it has inspired to violence.

Leaderless Resistance

In 2014, after longtime Klansman Frazier Glenn Miller Jr. killed three at a Jewish community center and a retirement home in Overland Park, Kansas, Brad Griffin of Occidental Dissent published an article on the topic of “self detonating lone wolf vanguardists.” According to Griffin, “a ‘self detonating lone wolf vanguardist’ is someone who is radically alienated from society and who has given up on persuasion, a fanatacist who is inclined toward violent methods of bringing about eschatological political change, who usually acts alone or with an accomplice in the name of a movement without the support of assistance of any group, and who typically explodes, lashes out, or ‘self detonates’ without warning in rampage shootings, murder-suicides, and bombing campaigns.”

In its just over four years of operation, the Daily Stormer’s audience included at least three readers who were either convicted or indicted for murder.

"An Age of Ultraviolence"

On June 17, 2015, Dylann Storm Roof killed nine African-American worshipers and wounded one while attending a Bible study class at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church in Charleston, South Carolina. Roof, then 21, told his victims, including Reverend and State Senator Clementa Pickney, that, “I have to do it. You rape our women and you’re taking over our country, and you have to go.”

In a manifesto posted to his website, lastrhodesian.com, Roof cited the Trayvon Martin case as his inspiration for searching on Google for “black on White crime.” According to Roof, “I have never been the same since that day. The first website I came to was the Council of Conservative Citizens. There were pages upon pages of these brutal black on White murders. I was in disbelief.”

On March 22, 2017, another Daily Stormer reader, James Harris Jackson, was arrested after stabbing 66-year-old black man Timothy Caughman with a sword in Manhattan. Jackson, an army veteran, was 28 at the time of the alleged stabbing. He travelled to New York from Baltimore, Maryland, to conduct a “practice run” for what was intended to deter white women from race-mixing. He told a media source after his arrest that, “the white race is being eroded.”

On Friday, December 27, a 17-year-old white male, reported to be Nicholas Giampa, allegedly shot and killed the parents of his ex-girlfriend in Reston, Virginia, before turning the gun on himself. According to reports, the parents had facilitated the break-up after learning that Giampa held neo-Nazi beliefs.

Giampa’s account also attempted to engage with those of alt-right leaders and organizations like Mike Peinovich, VDARE, the Traditionalist Worker Party, Identity Evropa, as well as Vanguard America, the neo-Nazi group that James Fields was photographed with in Charlottesville. One of Giampa’s main obsessions, however, was the hardcore neo-Nazi group Atomwaffen.

2018 is already off to a disturbing start. On January 2, Blaze Bernstein, a college student who was gay and Jewish went missing and was later found murdered. Friends of the accused murderer, Samuel Woodward, told ProPublica that Woodward was a committed neo-Nazi and member of Atomwaffen which may have as chapters in as many as eight states.

This former Atomwaffen member also said that the events in Charlottesville had a major impact on the group. Its membership doubled.

(selected sections of article)

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shestrying2write · 4 years

Text

A Proposal pt 2

Pairing: Ivar x reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count: 1,337

Author’s notes: This part is a little shorter because I really wanted to get this out there. Hope you guys enjoy it and let me know if you want me to continue ! Also this is my first taglist so hopefully it works.

Summary: Ivar intends to get the truth, but ends up making it worse

Masterlist

Pt 1 // Pt 3

Y/N turned frightened toward her bed, pulling up her dress. “Ivar?” She squinted in his direction, trying to make him out.

“Expecting someone else?” He slurred. He had been drinking. She smelled it now, as she got closer, the harsh scent of ale. She wouldn’t let him win, she needed to act like her heart wasn’t fluttering in her chest. Leaning to turn a lantern on she took a deep breath. She could do this. She could tell him off, it was now or never. Yet every time she opened her mouth to speak, no sound would come out. Tears streamed down her face and she held back a sob. She sniffled softly and wiped her tears so he wouldn’t see.

“I expected an empty bed” her voice betrayed her. It cracked and sounded almost as broken as she felt.

She saw Ivar shift closer to her. His fingers swiping at her cheeks “Have you been crying?” His voice got louder “Was it Ubbe?! Has he hurt you?” She pushed his hand away and moved away. “Like you would care” she mumbled, turning her back to him and undoing her braids, trying to keep as distracted as she could.

“Tell me” he insisted as he crawled closer to the edge of the bed, closer to her.

“Perhaps you should check on the woman who warms your bed. I’m sure she misses your presence.” She hissed out. He chuckled at that. He actually chuckled. How dare he?

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say you were jealous,” he said proudly, the liquor in his blood, making him sound braver than he felt. She remained quiet. Of course she was jealous. He must have known. But when no words came out of her mouth, only sobs, he scooted as close to the edge of the bed as he could to grab her arm and turn her towards him. “Hey, hey. What’s wrong?” When she shook her head and just continued crying he wrapped his arms around her. She hit his chest, pushing him away the second she collided with his body. She didn’t want to be pitied further. She didn’t need his comfort. The more she pushed, the harder he held her. She eventually gave in and sobbed into his neck. Cried all the tears that she tried to hold back when she saw him.

After minutes of crying she finally looked at him. Her Y/E/C staring into his blue ones. “Why?” She managed to squeak out. He saw her, broken and vulnerable. She had hurt him and used him to get to his brother and she dared ask why? “Why are you here Ivar? '' She finished her thought. There it was. She didn’t want to be near him. She had Ubbe now. She didn’t need him. The room suddenly spun and he pushed her away, throwing himself over the side of her bed as he emptied the contents of his stomach on her floor. Perhaps he had drunk too much. She ran to get some type of container, and was back to him in seconds, softly holding his hair and reassuring him it was fine. He was embarrassed. The woman he loved who didn’t love him had just seen him be weak and throw up all over the floor. She wiped his mouth with a rag and laughed. She was laughing at him “This is Hvitserk’s 16th name day celebration all over again” and she just couldn’t stop laughing.

Ivar too, smiled, “If I recall correctly. You were the first to throw up then.” She nodded and leaned against him. She missed this. His laughter and the way his eyes would look her up and down. Her laughter grew faint as he leaned into the bucket again and spilled whatever was left of his stomach. Her hands braided his hair back, quickly, to keep it out of his face. It was as if the last couple of weeks never happened. All the anger and hatred left her mind briefly, as worry over his well being took its place.

“Let me go and fetch you some water” quickly standing and relacing her dress Y/N went for the door, but was stopped by Ivar’s hand holding hers.

“Don’t go” almost inaudibly, he gripped her hand tighter. Y/N turned to look at him surprised. This is what she had wanted. Maybe this was it, their time to just confess everything to each other. Maybe Sigurd had been lying to her, maybe Ivar did love her. She soothed his hand with her thumb and smiled softly at him, taking a step closer. “I think I heard your father get home. What if he walks in here while you’re away and sees me?”

“You’ve been here before Ivar” Y/N rolled her eyes playfully and sat beside him. “Besides, you know he loves you. I’m sure he’d be happy to see you” her voice was softer as she continued with a shrug. She hoped he caught on to her tone. The tone that said it was her who had missed him. As she opened her mouth to just tell him, he opened his,

“I just don’t want him to tell people he saw me here tonight. That’s all” he was sobering up fast and regretted coming here. Maybe he should just tell her he was hurt. That he didn’t love Margrethe. That he was just using her to make Y/N jealous, until he heard her scoff.

“So that’s what you’re worried about. That someone might find out you were in my home at night?” As he scratched the back of his neck, she realized not just someone, he didn’t want a specific person to find out. “Right, because I was just a game to you. You finally got your prize. You got Margrethe. So now you don’t need to pretend to be my friend!” Now she was yelling. All the anger and resentment she had been holding back were at full attention now.

Ivar looked taken back. How dare she be angry at him when she’s the one who used him. “What are you talk—“ before he could even finish his sentence she continued yelling, knowing her father would probably hear her if he was actually home, but no longer caring.

“Well it doesn’t matter anymore. I’m glad you found Margrethe. You two deserve each other” Ivar took a deep breath to try and calm down. Her last sentence hitting him with all the venom she meant it with. He knew how she felt about the slave, she hated Margrethe, she’d even called her a snake on several occasions. The only thoughts circling Y/N’s mind was why had he come? To rub it in her face that he didn’t want her? To tell her their friendship was over? Not that it was ever a real one. “Look. Sigurd told me everything. I just wish you had been a man about it and just told me the truth Ivar” she was no longer yelling. She was just defeated now. “I would have, I don’t know. I don’t know what I would have done, but at least I’d be less disgusted by you”

His eyebrows were scrunched up and his eyes searched her face, to say he was confused was an understatement. Her final sentence was the nail on the coffin. There it was. His feelings disgusted her, but there had to be more. What did she mean she talked to Sigurd? About what? “I see.” He groaned. He felt his stomach churn again, but refused to throw up in her room further. “I’m uh. I’m sorry about the mess. I’ll send a thrall to clean everything up” he threw himself on the floor and didn’t give her a second look. He was too drunk to think straight right now. But there is one thing he learned, somehow in some way Sigurd was to blame. And he would get answers out of him one way or another.

Taglist for A Proposal:

@youbloodymadgenius @the-jess-life @frenchzodiacgirl @twilight-loveer @thatnerdybabe @rachelizabethgraham @didiintheblog

#Ivar #Vikings #fanfic #The Boneless #ivar the boneless #reader insert #ivar x reader #reader x ivar #ivarxreader #ivar lothbrok #alex hoegh andersen #vikings fic #vikings x reader #multific #the boneless x reader #angst #ivar angst #vikings angst

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akumageist · 4 years

Text

I would die for Hitori Uzune. RIP to Kazuaki, but I’m different.

The Hatoful fandom consists of 13 people and a paperclip. It always has. Unfortunately, it probably always will. Where this is cause for some perks, it’s also some of its faults. In example, it’s still an anime game, made by a Japanese woman, and attracts weebs. Weebs tend to like to think of characters 2-Dimensionally, breaking the character down to what they think is their core personality traits. Hitori is no stranger to this, and is beaten down into this heartless, manipulative, selfish bastard. But I believe Moa is saying “anyone, even the best of us, is capable of becoming a monster if driven to it.” Let’s roll.

2162. Hitori was born into a world of war and hate, plopped into an orphanage at just 2 years old. This can be found in Moa’s canon spin-off manga, where Hitori at about ten years old is caring for the other war orphans along with the other older birds. Luckily for him, he was a genius. He was able to go out and get jobs tutoring birds and support his rag-tag family at his young age.

With that, we know Hitori was not originally cold and heartless, despite how the world may have birthed him. Especially when Nageki arrived frail and sickly. Hitori and the other birds were happy to put in overtime in an attempt to pay for the poor dove’s medications, even in his protest.

Then, 2180 happened. Imagine what sort of toll that would take on Hitori. he was absent. He was at work, unaware of the jeopardy that befell his family. What kind of horrible, mind-rattling survivors guilt must rack this bird’s brain, knowing he wasn’t there as his family was massacred one by one?

“What did we do? We had nothing. Our parents and homes had already been stolen by the humans. All we had left were each other.”

We can gather from this same scene Hitori blames himself for not being there. For not being able to protect his family, or even Nageki. Even though had he been there, he would have died alongside everybirdie else, and left Nageki to succumb to his illness alone. Something of this magnitude would create anxieties and trauma unfathomable to those who did not deal with it.

In Hitori, this manifested as full-blown helicopter mom. He can’t help but think of every little nit-pick detail over Nageki, terrified one feather out of place will kill him. The fandom is good about this side of his character! And of course, so is Moa. This may be the Summer Vacation Drama CD: Hitori The Worrywart (which takes place in MIRROR AU), but I love it’s portrayal of the anxious quail.

Hitori continued to care and ache over Nageki’s declining health. He was desperate. Begging doctors, even though deep in his little quail brain he knew Nageki was a lost cause, and that he was dying. But he couldn’t think of a life without Nageki, and did all in his power to try and keep the bird as well as he could. We can see a great example of this love in words you might not think of.

“How about this? From now on, ‘I’m fine’ is not allowed.”

I’ve always imagined Hitori getting mildly heated at Nageki in this conversation.The quail is on his last strands of stability, and the dove he cares endlessly for is trying to hide the very thing he ails himself over. The genuinity in his words shines through- telling Nageki he’d rather hear he’s bad and hurting.

So, in this desperation, Hitori carted Nageki off to some strange doctor in some strange prestigious school. And how couldn’t he? A doctor who claimed to know of the virus eating away at Nageki’s life, and how to cure it. Hitori’s beacon of hope in a sea of darkness. The only bird in the entire universe he had left to love, the one he had arguably always favored and adored, was dying. He would do anything in his power to keep the one thing he loved alive, no matter the irrationality or cost. No matter the very dying bird’s own lips saying “I… don’t want to go.”

Whether or not you ship these birds, I firmly believe Hitori is in love with Nageki in a romantic sense.

“I can no longer love another creature // I think we meant more to each other than anybirdie else in the world... // The love I felt soured into resentment // I should remember the beautiful face I knew, not… a photo covered in scribbles”

Not to mention admitting he can’t bear to live without the dove in BBL. And, in his route, Hiyoko goes as far as to refer to this bird as a female, which means he’s speaking so fondly she’s assuming it was a lover, and therefore a woman. Hitori’s stopped any sort of love at the idea he can only love Nageki post-mortem. That is canon. And well… that’s not very brotherly, no matter how good of a relationship you may have with your sibling (I speak from experience).

Okay, okay, this persuasive essay is NOT for convincing you of this ship, that is another essay for another time. I’ve only mentioned this opinion because I need you to understand his irrationality for the one thing he has left, and the fragility of it. And why it might drive anybirdie to… Hitori-level madness. Moving on.

2183. A mere 3 years after Hitori had lost the majority of his family to human terrorists. Nageki sends a coded letter, and… we can see Hitori’s anxieties outright.

“It’s happening again. Nageki needs me, and I’m not there.”

This is… a very powerful line in the game. We’re seeing just how vulnerable Hitori truly is. This is a traumatized individual in a panic attack- realizing the love of his goddamn life is once again faced with something horrible, and Hitori is once again absent from the scene.

And just like that, he’s gone.

The only thing. The only one Hitori had left in life to love. To live for. Taken from him without so much as a second chance. This is painful to write. This part of Hatoful is, without a doubt, the most agonizing. I know how it is to lose something so dear and feel as though maybe it’s not worth going on without them.

This is the peak of Moa’s tragedy writing ability (and yes, I’m including Holiday Star). But this is my point, is it not? Though his kanji may be “sun bird”, the actual word for his name “Hitori” quite literally means one, alone, solitary. He is now all alone in the universe, no family left. How can anybirdie even remotely remain in charge of their faculties (as Sakuya would put it) by now? You wouldn’t.

Hitori is now a husk of his former self. Anything he’s ever cared for is gone, he has nothing left to live for. He goes- my favorite coined term for him- absolutely batshit. He gets what we call “trauma-induced psychosis”, and begins to hallucinate very vividly, a form that he refers to as “Nageki”. We all know him of course, as Shadow. Shadow, from the little information we’re able to gather from BBL, is tormenting Hitori ruthlessly.

Shadow is easily misunderstood, because Moa made him fathomable, so the reader was able to understand exactly what was happening. What had become of Hitori Uzune. Shadow in all his simplicity- is Hitori. It is an introjection of Nageki, manifested to validate Hitori in his self-hatred. Don’t you get it? He hates himself just as much as you hate him!

Anything Hitori thinks of himself, Shadow is there to back up. He’s taunting him day in and day out, reminding him that he killed Nageki, and every ounce of Nageki’s suffering life was the fruit of Hitori’s inability to protect him. But again, it’s his own brain, telling him exactly what he wants to hear. What he truly believes. Telling himself what he’s done, and how he deserves this. ...And to seek revenge.

Hitori lost his mind. He had nothing else to lose, after all. He became obsessed with Nageki even moreso than he was in life, because there was no level-headed dove to calm him and tell him to stop worrying so much, or keep him at least reasonably held together by simply being there.

He listened to his psychosis, and when he made a friend (Moa gives evidence Hitori and Kazuaki were friends prior to Hitori’s ill-intentions), his psychosis got in the way of that, too. As he travelled down this relationship (which Moa herself says is pretty much romantic), we can assume he realized just how unable to love he was. He had Kazuaki around because, let’s face it. He wanted someone like Nageki who was incompetent so he could nurture and care for them. And for a while, it worked. But it didn’t. Hitori didn’t love Kazuaki. He couldn’t. He was too busy looking for Nageki.

So, you’re reading this in english. You speak english. At least a little, right? So maybe you played the english (and localized) version of the game. Well then you may not know the following. Please pay attention! This gets a bit rocky, and a bit more “Hitori...!”.

In the English version, Hitori disguised as Kazuaki is “tired”. In the Japanese version, he’s “sleepy” or “dreamy”. I’d describe him as ditsy, for sure. He kind of acts like an airhead who knows absolutely nothing, and his students don’t take him seriously. In the Hatomame Sweet Blend Drama CD, there is a track that follows Kazuaki on a little adventure of his narcolepsy, and going to Shuu for help.

In and out of comatose, Hitori, as himself, is there in his dreams as a separate bird.

“This bird with a face I had never seen spoke to me in a voice I had never heard, and this is what he said.”

“Nanaki-sensei” is clearly denying his own identity.

“I’ll sleep, just a little, and then leave… good… night…”

“But sleeping is my job… You still have a little longer. Tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that…”

This is dream Hitori telling himself that he has to continue his alias until his revenge is fulfilled. The quail that was once Hitori must remain dormant until he is reunited with Nageki again, and can be happy again. As a metaphor for depression… don’t you feel like you’re a shell of your former self?

So, going off this information… I believe Hitori has repressed himself. This is due to my own knowledge on psychology but-- Hitori doesn’t want to be Hitori anymore. It’s too hard. Hitori the war orphan. Hitori the lone survivor. Hitori the murderer and identity thief. It’s him not wanting to deal with his trauma in a healthy way, and instead locking it up and becoming somebirdie new and undamaged.

He killed Hitori.

This falls into the other delusion- that Nageki is somehow not completely dead and gone and ash- but still trapped, somehow, somewhere, and Hitori needs to find and get him. To kill Isa and the researchers who “killed” Nageki, and bring “Nageki” home. Whatever he believes Nageki is. In BBL, we see this quite literally varies! He tried to cut Ryouta open and steal his liver!

“Sir, Nageki would have never wanted this…!”

There is no difference between a serial killer and someone in a court room screaming for the serial killer to be murdered in turn. That mourning mother is then one in the same with that killer, is she not? She sees him, and wants him to die. She wants him to die and suffer. She believes that will bring her a sense of justice. Even though she knows it will not return her son to her. Hitori, is that mourning mother. He sees Isa, and all he can see is the man who murdered his dove.

I know the biggest aspect as to why the fandom hates Hitori is the sole factor that Kazuaki is #relatable. He’s a depressed college student who thinks he’s better off dead. Then, Hitori tricks him. But you’re not reading Kazuaki right. It’s okay, he’s easy to misread from Holiday Star’s plotline.

Holiday Star was written with Kazuaki as the villain, do you forget? A grey villain as well, but a villain nonetheless. He told his tragic sob story death in such a way, you can’t help but to cry. He’s the victim! I’m not saying he’s not. But he was written specifically to be pitied in Holiday Star, and as you continue on, you begin to see he’s actually just anti-self help. He doesn’t want to face his fears. He doesn’t want to leave his safe egg and take the risk he should have.

Kazuaki is meant to be pitied, yes, but just on the brink of annoying with his helplessness and self-deprecation. He’s, forgive me, a “sad sack of shit” who does nothing to help himself. Don’t come after me for being “ableist” or whatever- Moa literally wrote him this way.

This is also depicted in “Kazuaki-kun’s Book”. Now, this book takes place in the MIRROR AU, but it tells of how Kazuaki met Hitori. Moa starts the manga off by explaining Kazuaki had a great chickhood, a healthy life, and an easy, happy time. But then, he flunked his college exams and didn’t even get into his safety school. He lazed around, grew depressed, and let his apartment rot. He played video games until his online friends got jobs, and wasted any money he had on them as well. The only thing that scared him out of it is when his next door neighbor was found dead, having rotted into his own futon.

So imagine Hitori, who has worked so hard and lost everything he had done so for. Tirelessly, through his horrible, fucked up existence. Nageki, who had his short and miserable life robbed from him, had to die. Had to kill himself. And this random quail has the audacity to bitch and moan, thinking he’s got it bad? He’s a waste of space that could have been filled with Nageki. This is what Hitori’s brain is thinking. Hitori’s only ~20 years old when Nageki dies, after all.

I’m not saying this is cause for murder and identity theft. Don’t you dare misread me on this. But as I’ve stated prior- Hitori’s completely lost it. But you ship him with the chukar that literally ruined his life. Hitori’s a grey villain but holy fuck why would you want him to fuck the partridge that tortured and drove his only loved one to suicide?

It was wrong to trick Kazuaki. It was wrong to insult him as he died. It was wrong to steal his identity. That’s obvious and a given. But you all seem to look at that factoid alone, chalking it up to ‘preying on a poor mentally ill man” but not taking into consideration Hitori is mentally ill himself. ...Just not #relatable enough for you.

Hitori is suicidal as well. He’s been suicidal presumably since Nageki died. Don’t you dare say Hitori isn’t at least a little in the same boat. I don’t care if he’s not as soft and uwu and cuddly as Kazuaki. Mental illness is not rainbows and butterflies and emo hair (though Kazuaki is not portrayed this way).

Holiday star bears all the answers. I raise you important points, so pay close attention. The first key component is Hitori, found upside down in the pudding. He’s crying. Why is he crying? Because he’s lost his name? Oh, but think deeper.

“I’m Nemo”.

“Nemo” is latin for nothing, and his name translates to “nothing” in every language of HoliStar. The King has vomited him up in his kingdom, and robbed him back of what he stole from him. His identity.

But it goes even deeper than that.

“I’ve lost something, and so, I think I might cry.”

From this phrase alone, it’s painful to play this game. Nageki is right in front of his beak. But what did he do? He ate his own eyes. Hitori, in his refusal to identify with himself, has robbed himself of quite literally seeing the very bird he adores and sought after. Then, he is renamed his own identity by that bird (the only identity he accepts). How surreally real.

The second key component is when everybirdie is being rescued, but Leone warns Yuuya the quail is clearly falling more rapidly into a coma, and may not be able to awake. Why is this? Because Hitori wants to die. He’s fine with it, and Kazuaki is more than happy to keep him. When Yuuya finds him, Hitori is not at all alarmed as he should be. He seems passive, and simply wants to fall back to sleep. He’s to the point of trying to strangle Yuuya in attempt to let himself fall into eternal slumber (even if he thinks Yuuya is… Kazuaki..?).

Heed these next words carefully. When Yuuya asks if The King did something to him, Hitori replies-

“...No, all The King did was close the door.”

I am a firm believer this is Hitori indirectly saying “Kazuaki did nothing wrong, and I do not resent him for hating me.” Especially since Hitori shows signs of knowing it’s Kazuaki, and repenting.

“He said I need to be punished. Apparently I did something bad… and I think I know what it was.”

This is confirmed in my next point, so bear with me.

Hitori, in this same conversation, is admitting he wants to die. The only thing that stops him- as morbid as it may be, is remembering this takes place before the events of BBL. He hasn’t fulfilled what he believes is his “something I need to do”. Which is seek revenge, and bring Nageki home, as per Shadow’s orders.

Lastly, at the bitter end of Holiday Star when everybirdie is plummeting through the air from the false star, Hitori is still blind and confused. Suddenly, The King erupts from behind Hitori, and appears to be talking to him.

“Oh, is that right?”

“...I know, I know. ...but it’s still too soon. That’s right, I’ll be along soon. I’ll catch up with you. Someday…”

This is arguably my most prominent point in the entire essay. This is Hitori, admitting not only does he still plan to kill himself, but that he intends to keep his promise and reunite with Kazuaki in the afterlife. These are not the words of a heartless quail. These are the words of somebirdie who knows they’ve taken advantage of a friend, but is continuing to do their best to keep their promises and make amends. This is Hitori telling Kazuaki he still cares for him.

Hitori is the result of trauma and hardship beyond compare, and his inability to cope. He is not meant to be hated. He is meant to have shock value, yes. What he has done his disgusting, but you want to love him. Because he raised the sweetest bird in the entire game who would rather kill himself than hurt others.

Grey-villains are difficult, and because you can’t love them for being purely evil, you end up hating them for being a good person who’s done bad things. Hitori is a cracked window. Not quite shattered, but no longer whole, with a faulty image. Hitori is not just some heartless, manipulative, selfish bastard. He’s quite literally a bird with a broken wing (or entire ribcage more like), trying to… well, Live, and be happy.

#hitori uzune #uzune hitori #hatoful boyfriend #hatoful kareshi #hatoful #hatoful boyfriend bbl #kazuaki nanaki #nageki fujishiro #hatoful boyfriend holiday star

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morganaseren · 3 years

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How well did Niamh get along with the rest of the party in Origins that don’t often come up, like Shale, Sten, Oghren, etc.? And was there anyone from the party or otherwise from thay game that she had a particular distaste for? (Loghain or Bhelen come to mind since they’re just kinda dicks all around even if you can side with them).

Let me see if I can break this down without rambling on too much. Lol.

1.) Shale

So Niamh’s forever a scholar at heart, so she’d probably be intrigued by Shale on principle alone. She’s never seen or heard of a golem before, and she’s likely curious about the technical aspects of how something so simple as a control rod is capable of controlling them.

They’re distant acquaintances at first, mostly because Shale doesn’t have much trust toward mages, and Niamh can’t really blame them, considering Shale was essentially experimented upon constantly by their previous master. While they never exactly become exceedingly close friends, but they do respect one another by the time the events of DAO draw to a close. Shale appreciates that she’s willing to look out for them in battle, and Niamh personally finds Shale’s dry quips to be amusing.

2.) Sten

They remain distant acquaintances. Sten probably likes that Niamh’s not very big on small talk, but he’s also not very shy on his views regarding mages, which would be uncomfortable for her. She’s understandably put off when he refers to mages under the Qun as beasts of burden, and she’s even more horrified by what they do to keep them under control...

3.) Oghren

He’s the one companion that Niamh will never get along with, mostly due to him sexually harassing the female members of the party, how misogynistic he is, his behavior toward Zevran is especially atrocious (seriously, look at his dialogue with him on the wiki), and his dependence on alcohol is alarming...

---

Other than the companions, it should go without saying that Howe is the person she despises most in any world state. Loghain’s a close second simply because he put her sister’s life in danger several times: the abandonment of King Cailan and the Grey Wardens at Ostagar, declaring the Grey Wardens traitors to the nation, sending assassins like Zevran to deal with any remaining survivors of the Order, etc.

There are other NPCs she has a strong hatred for such as (in no particular order) Uldred, Marjolaine, Branka, and Eamon.

Then, there are NPCs she’s known on a more personal level and ended up disliking such as Cullen, but there’s also Jowan.

I tend to headcanon that Niamh came to Ferelden’s Circle a year or two after he was. Because they were relatively close in age, they became fast friends. However, as they grew older, Niamh surpassed him in both magical abilities and the curriculum related to them. She underwent her Harrowing at seventeen and passed it in order to become a full-fledged mage while he was still an apprentice by the time the events of DAO began. In addition, she had the respect of her mentors First Enchanter Irving and Wynne--Kinloch Hold’s most revered Senior Enchanters--despite not yet being an Enchanter herself yet.

That’s my headcanon as to why Jowan turned to blood magic. He felt like he could never measure up to her. He constantly felt like he was in her shadow. As such, Jowan slowly grew to resent her, and they grew distant, especially during that last year before the Blight.

As to why she came to dislike him, well, the fact that he lied to her about his blood magic didn’t necessarily help matters. Then, when he came to her for help regarding an escape, Jowan basically endangered her as well. Nothing stays a secret in the Circle for very long after all, and that was proven true when Irving later confronted her about Jowan’s odd behavior.

Old as he might be, she knows how exceedingly shrewd her mentor is (she developed her knack of strategy from him), and that’s why she didn’t lie to him. Although she didn’t aid Jowan in escaping, she likely would have been imprisoned anyway by Greagoir and his Templars were if not for Irving and Wynne speaking on her behalf. Niamh was actually trying to help an Enchanter get her apprentices to safety when Uldred’s coup began in full. Then, in any AUs where she’s a Warden, Duncan conscripts her before Greagoir can think to detain her for further questioning.

...I said I wasn’t going to ramble, but I ended up doing it anyway, didn’t I? Lol. Thanks for the question though! :D

#vadrigar1994 #lee's inbox

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binbons-character-stuff · 4 years

Text

Hell Hath No Fury

My contribution to @daffodilsbucky‘s 1k Follower Challenge! Congratulations!!!

My trope was #12 Body Swap.

Dinah Madani was a woman scorned.

There was more to it, of course. Her career was in ruins. She was a laughingstock among her former co-workers and bosses. Her parents had stood by her publicly, of course, but she saw them, sometimes. They would just look at her, wondering where they had gone wrong with their child.

Her life was a joke – she was a joke. And it was all because of one man.

Billy Russo.

Dinah Madani never looked in the mirror and saw a woman who compromised her own values, used herself and Billy Russo sexually to find out information about Frank Castle and Cerberus. She didn’t see someone who played fast and loose with the law; she saw a victim. She saw a woman who had been dishonored, a woman who had been played for a fool.

A woman who needed revenge.

And she didn’t want revenge from Frank Castle, the man who had pulled the trigger on her partner in Kandahar, or his boss, the man who had actually given the order to murder Zubair. She didn’t want revenge on her boss or her boss’s boss that gave Russo and Castle sweetheart deals for helping to take Rawlins down. Hell, she didn’t even blame David Leiberman for sending her the video in the first place. She blamed Billy Russo, because he had realized her game and beat her at it; because he had been able to compartmentalize dealing with Madani after he found out that she had been using him to get to Frank.

Because he had been able to find love with someone else, when Madani herself had loved him: at least her version of love. More like want, really, but still, Madani owed him. So, yeah, Billy and you were the object of her sick fascination and utter hatred.

It was Billy Russo who needed to pay. And, if things went as she hoped, pay he would, and you right along with him.

Madame Gao had been hard to find, but Madani was determined. When she had found her, Gao had been indifferent to her. Russo and Castle were troublesome but nothing that her Hand members couldn’t handle.

In the end, Madani had pledged herself to the Hand for Madame Gao’s help in getting revenge on Billy. And, in order to be completely certain of Madani’s loyalty, Gao had placed a geas on Dinah. She was now magically bonded to Madame Gao until her death or release.

It was a small price to pay to make Russo’s life a living hell before she finally ended it.

This was going to be fun.

“Honey, I’m home!” Billy called when he stepped into your shared apartment and laid his keys in the bowl that was kept there for general pocket clutter.

“In the kitchen,” you called out, though he had already figured that out from the delicious aromas and the music playing.

Billy tossed his suit jacket over a dining chair and strolled into the kitchen, loosening his tie as he entered his favorite room of your shared home.

Leaning his chin on your shoulder as he snuggled up behind you, Billy pulled you close and kisses your neck a bunch of times until you giggled and turned to kiss him properly, knowing that he would continue to harass you delightfully until he got a proper smooch.

“How was your day, love?” you said after a sweet kiss.

“Not too shabby. Better now that I’m with you,” he said warmly.

You looked into his deep brown eyes and marveled that you had ever doubted this man’s feelings for you. “I love you so much, Russo,” you said sincerely.

Billy kissed your nose with his special crinkly-eyed smile. “I love you, too,” he replied. “Whatcha makin’?”

“Just some quick sausage and peppers with pasta. Wanna set the table while I put the garlic bread in the oven?”

“Sure,” he answered, stealing one more kiss before he went to grab dishes and flatware.

Billy was still getting used to having a woman in his space; you were worth it and he would lie down in a puddle so you wouldn’t get your feet wet, but there was still a lot to get used to, y'know?

This was a man who never lived alone his entire life, going from foster homes to group homes to the Marines. When he finally got out and started his business, he got his first place alone – and he fucking loved it. He didn’t have to worry about his shit getting moved, busted or stolen. Hell, he didn’t even have to deal with Frankie stealing his toothpaste. In a burst of excessive hubris, he had gotten all of the things that he thought would show people how far he’d come in life from the foster kid whose junkie mother safe-havened him at a fire station.

When Bastion Security took off and made it through the government oversight after he and Frank and Curtis had done the CIA’s dirty work and took out Rawlins, he was able to grow the business honestly, not having to worry about Black ops that were too dirty for Feds. His jobs were aboveboard and his money was clean.

Clean money meant less money, though, so the penthouse had been traded for a normal apartment, his closets filled with nice but not bespoke suits and his parking space with the Wraith was now occupied with a Land Rover. After life settled into routine, after all the testifying before the Senate, after he paid back the dirty money he used to start Anvil, well, he realized that while it was nice to have his own space and things, they didn’t have to be the most expensive just for the sake of having the highest price tag.

And now that he didn’t have to maintain strictest privacy at all times lest his not-so-squeaky-clean business practices came to light, he didn’t necessarily love being alone all the time.

You and he were the last of your friends who were still single; Karen and Frank were together, Foggy and Marci were engaged, Curtis had started dating a girl he’d met at the gym and Matt was getting serious with a social worker he’d met on a case where he’d been guardian ad litem for a boy who had lost his parents.

So, after the first few times that you and Billy were the only ones to show up for a group outing, or were the last ones left after everyone went on with their couples plans, you decided you may as well hang out with each other. One thing had led to another, you’d asked him to be your plus one for a work thing, he’d asked you to go with him to a mix and mingle thing so he wouldn’t threaten husbands. You never expected anything, of course; Billy was famously single and you certainly didn’t think you’d be the one to change that.

But you were. Billy finally quit pretending he needed you to accompany him as a friend and told you he wanted more.

“What?” you asked with a nervous chuckle. “Is this a joke?”

Billy looked offended. “No,” he said stiffly. “It was not intended as such.”

“I mean, you’re famously unfunny, Russo. You sure?” you said, giving him an out.

Suddenly Billy was feeling more vulnerable than he had as a kid. He decided to go for bravado. With a half-smile, he said, “Yeah, that’s a pretty stupid idea, huh? I just thought that y'know since we been spending so much time together –”

“Bill!” you interrupted.

“What?” he growled, cheeks a bit flushed with embarrassment.

You smiled and stepped closer, tentatively putting your hands on his shoulders. Looking into his eyes, you whispered, “It’s a great idea, Billy.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and put his hands on your hips, pulling you a bit closer and leaning in to drop a gentle kiss on your lips.

Your eyelids fluttered open and you smiled happily. “Best idea ever.”

Frank and Curtis had known Billy for a lot longer than any of his other friends, and neither of them could get over the change in him. Outwardly, Billy told them to screw off, he had always been the same guy, but inside – well, inside, Billy knew that he was different. You had seen the person who had always worried that he wasn’t worth anything deeper than his looks.

But you looked past his exterior, past his sins and loved the man that he had never before had the courage to be. You became his friend after he lost the money and the car and suits, and you never seemed all that impressed with his looks. Oh, you thought he was gorgeous; you weren’t blind. But that wasn’t enough for you. You’d needed to get to know the real William Russo, not the image he showed the world. Only then did you fall for him.

There was a freedom that accompanied someone knowing the real Billy. He had never known true acceptance before, had never understood that concept because no one had ever wanted what was beneath the facade he showed the world. When he was a Marine, he was the best goddamn sniper there was. When he was a businessman, he was the best bullshit artist and salesman he could be. When he was with a woman, he was the best lover he could be, leaving every partner exhausted and satisfied.

But he had never really allowed anyone to see the man he was before. Only you understood the little boy who had been abandoned that still lived inside Billy, and only you had ever been able to make him understand that it had not been his failing, that his mother had been an addict and unable to care for him.

For the first time, Billy thought that maybe there could be more to his life than resentment and anger; you gave him love and acceptance.

Madani had gathered all of the necessary components for the spell and it was time. She had been very careful not to let Billy see her as she tailed him, learning his and your routines by heart. She had spy training, after all – even someone trained as Billy had been unprepared for the Killing Eve disguises and infiltration shit Madani was pulling. Madame Gao had also loaned her some manpower, so there wasn’t always a small woman around, regardless of her hair color or clothing.

Madame Gao herself was going to perform the spell. Later, Madani would apprentice in spellcraft, but for now she would simply be the subject of the spell.

It had been so easy to get close to you to get something personal to use for the spell component. You were truly and completely a civilian, a trusting fool. What did Russo even see in you?

Madani was currently bound to a sturdy chair, arms and legs lashed down securely. She couldn’t get out of it herself, she had no doubt that it would hold a weakling like you.

Madame Gao began chanting and threw a lit match into a bowl, fragrant smoke surrounding Madani, clouding her vision and making her dizzy. As her eyes fluttered closed, she felt herself drifting away…

You were having the strangest dream. The sounds and smells were completely foreign to you. There was a strange voice chanting and it was as if you were drunk or high. You muttered in your sleep, and the feel of Billy’s heart beating against your cheek was growing fainter, as if you were being pulled away from his embrace.

Suddenly, you gasped as your eyes opened to a strange room where an elderly Asian woman was looking you over with a matter-of-fact expression on her wrinkled face.

“You do not seem worthy of such hatred as my apprentice holds for you,” she said disdainfully.

You were still woozy and completely confused. “Who are you? Where am I?”

“I think the more important question for you is, ‘Who are you?’” she replied, gesturing across from you.

You looked in the direction and saw a woman bound to a chair. Disturbing, but you couldn’t see how it pertained to you. You turned to look at the woman and saw the woman across from you mirror your move. You looked back and so did she – you began to make faces and she mimicked each one. Finally your brain caught up with the evidence before you and you looked down, finding your hands bound to a chair – but they were not your hands!

“What – what the hell is going on?” you asked, panicking and pulling against your bonds. “What is happening to me? BILLY!!”

“You may continue to scream if that is your wish, but there is no one to come to your aid. Ms. Madani was very careful in her planning. Your Mr. Russo should be waking up next to her any time now.”

“Madani? That crazy bitch who tried to kill Billy?” you asked, real fear in your eyes as you looked into the mirror more closely. The hair was short and blond now, but the eyes and face, the beauty mark – you were indeed trapped in the body of Dinah Madani.

And your love was snuggled in bed with a woman who blamed him for every bad thing that had ever happened to her – and had been trained to kill.

Billy woke abruptly, the feel of fingernails digging into his skin jolting him from sleep. He jumped from the bed in fight-mode but saw no threat. “Babe?” he said, half asleep and confused. You usually woke him up sweetly, knowing that he had PTSD from growing up in foster care and serving in the Middle East – startling Billy awake was not a great idea.

“Hey,” Madani purred, “no talking, just make me feel good.”

Billy was wide awake at that, skin almost crawling as he jumped out of bed and away from the hands trying to get inside the boxer briefs he had worn to sleep. “Ah, sorry, no can do,” he said, backing away from what certainly looked like the woman he loved. “Got an early meeting.”

“Ugh,” she practically sneered at Billy. “Fine, Russo. Go to work – as usual.”

Billy visibly flinched and said, “Ah, gonna hit the shower.”

Madani realized that maybe, just maybe she had come on a bit strong. She hadn’t really put any thought into how you and Billy were when you were alone together, and surprisingly, you spent most of your off time alone in your shared apartment. No, she only thought about getting revenge. But Billy had definitely been confused, and though she knew she was smarter and he couldn’t possibly expect this, he wasn’t a stupid man.

She would have to be softer. It just hadn’t occurred to her that Billy Russo would want to be with a rag doll, she assumed that he would be with a woman more…well, more like Madani. She had been his type once, but it seemed that these days he liked his tail with a side of submission.

Billy was in the shower quietly freaking out. You were behaving strangely; it was like you were a different person entirely.

Get ahold of yourself, Russo, he berated himself. So your girl woke up horny and tried to jump you? Most guys would be grateful, and it isn’t like you never woke her up for sex!

Billy shook his head and hurried through his shower. He had no idea what you saw in him, but you were so tender-hearted that you were probably some combination of hurt and embarrassed because he’d run off like a blushing virgin.

Billy came back to the bedroom wrapped in a towel, an apology loaded for his weird exit, but you weren’t there. He perked his ear in the direction of the kitchen and heard you opening cabinets and shrugged. Morning weirdness aside, he really did have an early meeting.

He got dressed and came out to the dining room to find you drinking coffee. He bent over to drop a kiss on your cheek. “Gotta go,” he said. “See you at 7 for Karen’s thing, right?”

“Oh, right!” Madani exclaimed. “You’re picking me up, right?”

“No,” Billy drawled slowly. “We’re meeting at Kashkaval Garden. Remember?”

Madani made a 'silly me’ face and said, “Right, of course! Absolutely.”

“Great,” Billy replied a bit suspiciously. “You OK?”

“I’m fine,” Madani replied. “Weird dreams, feel like I could sleep some more. Better hit the coffee!”

“K,” Billy agreed reluctantly, then sent you the special smile that he deserved for you. “Love you, babe.”

Madani felt her stomach churn. Really? He loved this little Mary Sue? “Back atcha,” she said with a tense smile.

Billy’s eyebrows went up slightly, but then he smiled and said, “See ya tonight.”

“Yup.”

Billy closed the door behind him, actually shaking. You had never failed to tell him to have a great day when he left for work. He’d been called out of bed in the middle of the night and you’d told him to have a great day in your sleep! And, 'Back atcha’ when he’d said he loved you?

Something is wrong. Something is very wrong.

Madani knew that Billy had been weirded out by her behavior, though she wasn’t sure what precisely she did wrong. He’d liked her well enough when they had been together, how much different could you be? Yes, you were a pediatrician, so you obviously liked children, whereas Madani wanted nothing to do with any ankle biters, even if they were family. Maybe he found something in you that he had missed out on being raised in the foster system? That made sense; it wasn’t you, but what you represented.

What possible other reason could there be for him to be with Madani’s polar opposite?

Billy had been distracted all day. From the first minute of the 7 a.m. meeting where David and Curtis had gone over the company’s quarterly financials and the prospects for the upcoming months, he’d been somewhere else.

“Billy!” Curtis said loudly, knocking on the table in the conference room. “This is where you talk.”

“Shit, sorry, guys. Weird morning,” he apologized. “Ah, we have eight ongoing personal security jobs stateside and I’ve been trying to get us contracts for overseas security, too. If any of that starts looking positive, we’re going to need to hire and train more ground crew. And we could actually use some tech crew now, Micro.”

“That’s…wow,” David Leiberman exclaimed. “I’ll put out some feelers. This is great news, guys!”

“Yeah,” Billy said with a surprised chuckle. “Y'know, I think we might just make a go of this thing.”

Frank slapped the tabletop and said, “Damn straight!” he agreed heartily. “Drinks are on me tonight.”

“It’s your girlfriend’s party, weren’t they already?” Curt heckled Frank.

“Yeah, ya cheap bastard!” David joined in as Billy chuckled at their ribbing of their friend.

“Eh, shut it!” Frank clapped back happily. “Bastion Security Incorporated is here to stay!”

Billy was planning to talk to Frank about your strange behavior, but he didn’t want to bring down the vibe of the partners after the meeting, and he had a lot of work to do around three meetings and two conference calls. I’m probably overreacting, anyways, he reassured himself. Just a weird morning.

Still, the feeling that something was wrong nagged at him all day. To top it off, he had texted you several times and you hadn’t answered him once. You always answered him, even if it was just a few words to say you were busy and you loved him.

He was utterly disgusted with himself for feeling like a clingy teenager, but damn, you were the best part of his life. What if you really had been keeping from him resentment over how much he worked? You always said you understood, even when he had been completely honest about all the stupid, awful things he had done. He was utterly overwhelmed with the grace and forgiveness his found family had blessed him with, but they had already been friends. For them it was a continuance of a relationship and therefore they found good in him to outweigh the bad that he had done.

With you, he had been honest early on; he needed to know that you could bear to look at him with his sins laid bare, because he knew almost from the beginning that you were special. The fact that you loved him knowing what he had done never ceased to amaze him – and he didn’t think he could make it without that love. Your love had changed him, made him able to return love. For the first time in his life, he wasn’t the most important person to him.

Christ, I feel like a twelve year old girl, he thought to himself disgustedly.

He picked up his phone and looked again. Still no texts.

Billy sighed and tried to focus on the resumes in front of him. They needed to hire new employees whether or not his love life was making him weepy.

Billy had arrived a few minutes early, but the hostess said the Garden Room was ready and led him back. Frank and Karen greeted him warmly, Billy congratulating Karen on her book deal. As if being a partner in Nelson, Murdock & Page wasn’t enough to keep her busy, she had submitted a manuscript for a mystery novel to a publishing house and had been offered a contract.

“Promise me you’ll only describe a character based on me as 'devastatingly handsome’,” Billy demanded playfully.

“How about, 'chronic bedwetter’,” Frank suggested.

“Or 'high-maintenance mirror hog’?” Curtis chimed in.

“'Technologically challenged!’” David piped up, loathe to be left out and giving the worst playful insult he could think of.

“Or 'terrible, inattentive boyfriend?’” he heard your voice add in the midst of laughing off his buddies’ roasting.

His eyes went wide and he spun around, and yeah, you looked pissed. “Hey, babe,” he said carefully, leaning over to kiss your cheek, which you accepted stiffly.

“I’ve been sitting out front waiting for a while, babe,” Madani said with saccharine sweetness and a big smile. “If Sarah hadn’t grabbed me on the way in, I’d still be waiting.”

“I mean, I thought you’d come on back,” Billy said quietly, smiling thinly, aware that all of your friends were watching. “Not like this is the first time we’ve used this room for our group.”

Madani looked around and saw the questioning looks pointed her way and let it go. “Of course. Long day,” she said, hopefully placatingly.

“Did you bring the gift?” Billy whispered as people began to mingle again.

“Gift?” Madani replied absently.

Billy’s eyebrows beetled his brows and he frowned as he said, “Are you kidding me? I said that we didn’t need a gift and you spent hours picking things out and paid extra for fast shipping!”

Just as Madani opened her mouth to snap back, Matt said, “Billy, got a minute?”

Billy closed his eyes briefly before smiling and turning to face the group. “Sup, Matt?"

"I heard you were hiring and I have a friend who might be a good fit.”

“You have friends who aren’t here?” Billy said with feigned amazement in his voice.

“Ha ha.” Matt held out his hand and said, “Come over here so we don’t bore everyone?”

Billy was surprised but said, “OK,” and put his arm under Matt’s hand and walked over to the far side of the room.

Matt smiled and said quietly, “Who the hell is that?”

Madani watched Billy lead Matt over to the other side of the room. She had been worried when Matt had asked Billy to talk, but then Billy had served him up snark like he did to the other guys so she figured it must really be normal.

She really was making him suspicious, though. She wasn’t going to be able to drag this out and enjoy torturing him, as much as it pained her to admit it. She had put so much thought into the method of her revenge that she didn’t research the means.

She smiled and joined the crowd, hanging back to learn the names of the people she didn’t know. She regretted letting her obsession with revenge cloud her judgment and keep her from doing better background.

You were actually being treated fairly well. Aside from some self-defense moves that Billy had insisted upon teaching you, you were absolutely not a threat. You were more of a throw-your-handbag-then-run-away-yelling, “Street Smarts” than a hand-gesture-like-Neo-while-screaming, “Come Get A Taste” kinda girl.

The elderly Chinese woman had dismissed you to the care of a group of guards with a full-on bad guy monologue. “The rest of your life does not promise to be pleasant, but it is up to you how you will be treated while you are my guest. Obey my simple rules and you will have the freedom of this room, you will be allowed to watch television and have access to bathing facilities. Your meals will be brought to you and if you are a well-behaved guest, you will be treated as such.

"However, if you get any ideas about escaping, then of course you will be returned to this chair and these bindings. Tell me, child, have you a preference?”

“I will behave until Billy comes for me,” you said, chin raised proudly. “You’re right, I am absolutely no threat, but Billy…he allows himself to care for very few people. You have the misfortune to be holding one of them as an honored but unwilling guest. Let’s hope the insane obsession of an off-balance woman scorned is worth the trouble it will bring to your door.”

Madame Gao smiled condescendingly. “I think we will be able to manage a few toy soldiers, child. Do not worry about my health when yours is in so much more peril.”

Billy smiled tensely at Matt. “What the hell do you mean, man?”

“I mean,” Matt bit out, “that woman may physically be your girlfriend, but somehow, that’s not who is currently inside her.”

Billy was dumbfounded. He knew of Matt’s alter ego and therefore understood that Matt had talents and powers far beyond his experience, but for there to be a completely different person inside your body? The same body, incidentally, that he had been inside on countless occasions?

“Matt,” Billy bit out a moment later, “man, I can’t wrap my head around this. You saying there are two people inside her?”

“No, Billy,” Matt replied ominously. “She’s completely gone.”

Madani figured she should stop staring holes into the back of Billy’s head and mingle a bit. She’d met Karen and Sarah before, albeit in a rather interrogate-y way, but still – she figured she could handle small talk with them.

Madani walked over to the edge of the group of friends and edged in until she was next to Karen.

Karen turned to her a bit and gave her a one-armed hug. “So glad you got here! Boys are so dumb, right?”

“Tell me about it!” Madani replied with an exasperated smile. “I feel like such a dunce, I left your present at home!”

Karen waved her concern away. “You don’t need to get me a present, silly! I just want to celebrate with all my friends.”

“Still,” Madani said ruefully, “happy birthday!”

And there was silence. And it was not good.

Frank cleared his throat. “Ah, we’re celebrating Karen’s book deal, kiddo! Did you pre-game some white wine before you got here?” he joked.

Madani was mortified.

Karen laughed. “Oh, you goofball!” she announced. “This is an old joke, like Frosty the Snowman, we say 'Happy Birthday’ for everything!"

Billy and Matt had returned to the group in time to hear Karen blatantly lie to help fake-you save face.

William Russo had seen a lot of things. He’d been to war, he’d killed men, he’d seen his friends die – hell, he’d almost had his own ticket punched more than a few times. But he had never, never experienced a horror so visceral before in his life.

You had never had an enemy in your life. Hell, when he’d first met you he’d been suspicious as hell, not believing anyone could be so goddamn nice. But the more he got to know you, the more he realized you were simply a caring, kind individual.

And you would have to have one hell of a case of amnesia to forget one of your dearest friend’s birthday.

"Karen, I am so sorry, but I just got word that I have to go into work,” Billy said regretfully. “And I really hate to say it, but I need my team.”

Frank, David and Curtis all groaned at that announcement, but they knew that Billy wouldn’t disrupt something like this for no reason.

“I’m really sorry, Karen” he said, leaning in to kiss her cheek. “I’m so proud of you. I promise I’ll make it up to you.’

Karen hugged him back, whispering, "What is going on?”

“Dunno,” Billy whispered back, knowing she was talking about you. “Gotta find out.”

Billy needed confirmation before he left. He walked over to fake-you and said, “Sorry, lovebug,” knowing that you absolutely loathed that particular term of endearment. He leaned over to kiss her cheek, feeling the anger rolling off fake-you in waves. “Can you get home OK?”

Madani almost snapped at him, but judging by the nauseating nickname knew that you wouldn’t respond that way. “Of course,” she said sweetly.

Billy stood and waited expectantly for a moment, but you never told him to be safe.

You always told him to be safe when he had to go on a job.

By the time the four of them had gathered at Bastion’s office, Billy had pulled his shit together, but there was still a part of him that was reeling. He’d seen a lot in his time on this green earth, but nothing else had come close to this shit.

“What the hell, Bill?” Frank growled as he entered the conference room at Bastion.

Usually the richly appointed room made Billy feel a sense of pride. This was where he brought new clients to discuss their needs with the team. It was a combination of high tech and dark wood, the perfect blend of science and class that said that the company was competent and successful. Now, he could have been sitting in a junkyard for all he cared. “Brother, I’m so sorry to fuck up Karen’s party –"

"That ain’t what I’m talking about, Bill,” Frank interrupted as Curtis and David entered the room.

“I think he means, what the hell is wrong with your girl?” Curtis said quietly.

Billy’s shoulders sagged as his chin hit his chest in defeat. “I wish I knew,” he said quietly, then looked up. “Matt said – he said that there’s someone else inside her? I mean, what the fuck does that even mean?”

Frank whistled. “Matt’s seen some shit,” he commented quietly. “Nightmare shit.”

Billy slammed his hand onto the conference table he leaned against. “What, like some voodoo shit?"

"Ancient Chinese mysticism, actually,” Matt said from the doorway.

Billy jerked to attention. Frank, Curtis and David spun to face Matt and saw two people with him: a young man with curly blonde hair and a young Asian woman.

“This is Danny Rand and Colleen Wing,” Matt announced. “This is Billy Russo, Frank Castle, Curtis Hoyle and David Lieberman. Billy’s girlfriend is the one I was telling you about.”

Billy was quiet for a moment. The girl was Asian, but the white kid? “Ah, pleasure to meet you. But what exactly do you bring to the table?” he asked bluntly.

“I am the Immortal Iron Fist.”

You had been pacing your chamber pretty much non-stop. It was decorated nicely in soothing shades of blue and was much homier than a hotel and certainly better than a dungeon. Knowing that it was your prison didn’t make you appreciate the color scheme, pleasant or not. They could hang silk curtains on the windows, but it didn’t change the fact that there were also bars.

This was so not your thing. Billy probably would have found a way to weaponize the TV remote or built a bazooka out of a toilet tissue tube by now, but aside from making bandages out of the embroidered pillow covers, your DIY skills were strictly decorative.

You had no idea how long you were to be a guest, either. Knowing that your stay would most likely end with either the man you loved more than life or you dead or critically wounded didn’t make you anxious to end your forced vacation with the elderly Asian woman and her silent minions.

“It sounds as though she has been placed under a spell which removes her soul with her body and replaces it with that of another person,” Danny said. “How long has this been going on?”

Billy scrubbed his face with his hand, utterly heartsick and defeated by the situation. “This morning. It was like she was a different person from the second she woke up.” He laughed humorously. “Little did I know she was literally a different person.”

Danny traded a look with Colleen. “There are only a few people in the world that could cast a spell like that, and most of them are in K'un-Lun.”

“What, now?” David sputtered in amazement. “I’m sorry, but are we really talking spells and and and magic? I mean, I know that there are things out there that we can’t explain but –”

“This is not the time to have 'The Talk’ about the world being larger than you know, David,” Matt said harshly. “Our friend is missing.”

“Shit,” Billy hissed as the pain of those words, resisting the need to double over from the gut punch they brought. “She’s missing. Jesus.”

Curtis clapped a hand on Billy’s shoulder and said, “We’re gonna get her back, man.”

“Damn straight,” Frank swore.

You were being punished. Apparently trying to keep the plastic knife from your dinner was not acceptable. You didn’t even know what the hell you were going to do with it; for Christ’s sake, you had literally fallen over when you got your toe stuck in the elastic while putting on your underwear the other day! Still, you felt like you should at least try.

“What did you hope to accomplish?” Madame Gao snapped at you disapprovingly, almost as if she was addressing a naughty child.

You chuckled bitterly. “I honestly don’t know. I just feel wrong sitting here waiting for the man I love to be murdered by his crazy ex-girlfriend while she’s wearing my body like a Halloween costume,” you railed, beginning to cry. “Why are you helping her?”

“She has pledged herself to me for this favor,” Madame Gao said stiffly.

You scoffed. “I guess that shouldn’t surprise me. She practically whored herself out when she worked for Homeland, why wouldn’t she sell her soul, too?”

“You should mind your tongue,” Madame Gao warned.

“Or what?” you sneered. “You’ll kill me? If you let her kill Billy, I don’t really care what happens to me.”

“You hold your life cheap.”

“I don’t. I just hold Billy’s more dear.”

“He wronged my new apprentice,” she said imperiously.

You laughed bitterly at that. “He outplayed your apprentice,” you spat. “She used sex to get information out of Billy and found out he played her back. She just can’t accept that he outsmarted her.”

She stiffened. “Perhaps your information is untrustworthy.”

“Yeah, maybe,” you countered. “But what if it’s yours that’s wrong?”

She paused as if pondering your words and then turned to leave, stopping at the door to say, “Since you cannot be trusted with eating utensils, you will not be allowed them for future meals. If there are any more incidents of pointless defiance such as this, you will be given neither utensils nor food. Do I make myself clear?”

“Abundantly,” you answered coldly.

She nodded once, looking at you consideringly for a moment before turning to leave without another word.

You waited until she was gone to sob in earnest.

“How the hell do we find out what we’re dealing with here?” Billy asked.

“Or who, for that matter,” Matt said. “Who hates you enough to do something like this, Bill? Crazy ex?”

Billy exchanged a look with Frank. “Do you think?” he began.

Frank shook his head in disbelief. “She really hates you, that I know.”

“Who are we talking about?” David demanded. Then, as if struck with the knowledge, he blurted, “Wait, Madani?”

“Hold up, you sayin’ you think a Homeland agent did this?” Curtis said in amazement.

Billy was shaking his head in disbelief. “She lost her job when all the shit went down. You think she’d go this far off the rails, Frank?”

“Hell hath no fury, brother.”

You laid awake, trying to think of something, anything you could do to escape.

Had Billy even missed you yet? Was Madani playing some sick mind games with him? God, had she seduced him? You wouldn’t blame Billy of course – hell, as far as he knew, you were you.

You’d had moments of insecurity when you had first gotten together, of course. Billy was an absolutely stunning man: physically breathtaking, intelligent and charming. He had been around the block so many times you were surprised that the city of New York hadn’t renamed it in his honor.

And that was exactly what he had told you. You had been sitting next to each other on your sofa watching a movie together when he had asked you what was wrong.

“I just…Billy, you’ve been with so many women. How am I ever gonna be enough?”

He smiled sweetly and kissed your nose. “Sweetheart, I have never been a guy to settle down, and yeah, I’ve had my share of sex. I’m not gonna pretend that I don’t know I’m hot. I can get laid pretty much any time I want.”

“Wow, thanks for this pep talk,” you muttered sarcastically.

Billy had smiled at your snark. “So, doesn’t the fact that I want to be only with you tell you that I’m only gonna be with you?”

You’d thought about it for a minute. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”

“Damn right.”

“Probably doesn’t hurt that Frank and Matt would castrate you if you cheated on me, either,” you’d said with a wicked grin.

“There’s my girl,” he’d said with a chuckle.

You came back to the present, even though you’d so much rather stay wrapped in the warmth of your memories with Billy.

From what you had been told, you didn’t expect to come out of this alive. If you did and Billy had slept with Madani, well, you would forgive him. But, goddamn, you really wished you knew what that crazy bitch’s game was.

And you really hoped Billy realized that she wasn’t you.

Danny and Colleen needed to gather some spell components of their own to divine what magic had been used, and Matt had gone off to see if he could drum up any leads on Hand activities. Billy, Frank and Curtis had changed into combat gear, ready to go at a moment’s notice, while David was digging into Madani’s affairs as deeply as he could.

Billy had been pacing the floor, so much nervous energy that he felt like he was about to lift off.

“Hey, I think I got something!” David called out.

Billy dashed over to where David was peering into his computer screen. “What?”

“I picked up a video of her leaving her apartment a few months ago and have been running a GAIT tracer on her like how I found Frank.”

“And?” Billy said impatiently.

“And she’s been going in and out of this building every day for the last few weeks, until yesterday. She went in and hasn’t come back out.”

“Micro, you brilliant son of a bitch, I could kiss you!” Billy yelled. “Frank, get on the horn with Matt, tell him to get Rand and Wing back here. We have an op to plan.”

You awoke with a start. It was still pitch dark in your room and you didn’t hear so much as a whisper of breath or shuffle of fabric.

“Who’s there?” you said quietly, hating the waver in your voice.

“It would seem I have misjudged you,” the disembodied voice of the elderly woman. “I saw nothing to inspire such hatred in you, but neither did I see the potential for you to inspire such love, either.”

“What do you mean? What are you talking about?” you asked, attempting to peer into the darkness and see her.

“You have friends in high places. And I underestimated your toy soldier,” she said, voice almost fading away at the end.

“Billy? Is Billy here?” you asked frantically, but there was no answer, and when you scrambled out of bed and over to the light switch, you were alone in the room.

But the door was slightly open.

You crept out into the hallway, terrified but not missing the opportunity to sneak out. As you moved away from your room, you began to hear what sounded like a fight – and then you heard a gunshot.

“Where is she?” you heard Billy scream.

“Billy!!” you yelled as loud as you could, moving toward the sound of his voice.

You reached a room at the end of the hallway where there was what could only be called a battle in progress. Billy, Frank, Daredevil?, a blonde kid you didn’t recognize and an Asian woman were fighting the elderly Asian woman’s guards, Billy and Frank slashing madly with knives while Curtis stayed behind them with a rifle.

You stayed back so that you couldn’t be used against them by being a human shield, but not running to Billy and being quiet so you didn’t distract them was the hardest thing you had ever done.

Finally, the last of the guards dropped and you stepped out of hiding so Billy could see you.

Billy looked at you and you nodded, ready to face your abductor.

“Honey, I’m home,” Billy called out as he entered your shared apartment.

Madani jumped up from where she had been sitting on the couch waiting for Billy to return. “It’s after 3, where the hell have you been?” she asked angrily.

“Aww honeybunch, were you worried about me?” Billy said with what almost seemed to Madani like…sarcasm?

Just then there was a brief knock followed by Frank, Curtis and Micro letting themselves in.

“Oh, hey, I told the guys you’d make us something to eat,” Billy said with a big smile. “You don’t mind, do ya Buttercup?”

Madani narrowed her eyes and bit her tongue.

“Billy, you know how much I hate sappy pet names like that,” you said in Madani’s voice.

Billy’s voice was cold as he, Curtis and Frank all pulled guns on faux-you. “Don’t move, Madani,” he growled.

“Yeah,” you said as she watched her tiny body emerge from behind the large men. “He won’t kill that body, but I told him it was OK to put a couple bullet holes in discreetly.”

Behind you was Daredevil, of all people, and a blond kid that looked slightly familiar.

Madani looked over at Billy and sneered, “I really didn’t think you were smart enough to figure this out at all, let alone in one day.”

“That’s funny, I always gave you credit for being smart enough to do some investigating before running into a situation,” he said with an icy smile. “I knew something was up before I even opened my eyes this morning.”

You watched Madani’s hateful expression on your face and said, “Damn, babe, do I look that ugly when I’m mad at you or is she just radiating her inner bitch that much?”

“All her, hon,” Billy replied with a small smile.

“In that case, I think it’s time we put her inner bitch back in her outer bitch, don’t you?”

Danny had performed the ritual to return you to your body and then had taken Madani with him, saying he would take her to a place called K'un-Lun to be tried for using dark magic. He assured you that you would never have to worry about Madani coming after either of you for misdirected revenge again.

You had taken a hot shower after they had gone and had been so relieved to feel your own skin, scars and cellulite that you almost cried. But what actually did make you cry in the shower was the fact that while you could tell he was happy to have you back, Billy had made no move to kiss you or touch you in any way.

Had Madani ruined what you had with Billy?

You were sitting on the edge of the bed, still wrapped in a towel, hair dripping down your back and shoulders as you stared into space.

“Hon?” Billy said gently, standing right in front of you. He knelt before you and ran his thumbs over your cheeks. “I’m so sorry this happened to you because of me. I know you’re probably furious with me –”

“What?” you interrupted, surprised. “I’m not mad at you, love.”

“I understand if you are,” he whispered, not meeting your eyes.

“William, look at me,” you said firmly. When his big brown eyes met yours, you saw pain and fear in their depths. “I don’t blame you for this.”

“How can you not?” he whispered.

“Hey,” you said, “this is on that crazy bitch, not you.”

“I brought this home to you. I should have never gotten involved with you, you’re too g–”

You grabbed his hair and pulled him into a kiss, silencing him and showing him how wrong he was. When you pulled apart you were both panting.

“William Russo, I never want to hear you say you aren’t good enough or you shouldn’t be with me, because I love you more than anyone else in the world.” You leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, then gently said, “So shut the hell up, OK?”

Billy grinned. “Yes, ma'am.”

“You knew before you even opened your eyes, huh?” you asked, part shy and somehow part smug.

Billy chuckled. “Yeah, she might have stolen your body, but she could never be you. You’re beautiful physically, yes, but your inner beauty shines brighter than anything,” he said almost reverently. “So, yeah, I knew something was wrong right away, because your touch just radiates love, and that was missing.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through that, Billy,” you whispered,caressing his beard.

His eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Honey, you were the one in danger! I don’t know what I would do without you.”

You threw yourself into Billy’s arms. “You never have to find out,” you said. Then you kissed him and you held one another until you fell asleep wrapped around each other, both thankful to be together and safe.

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