#the lost journal pages are KILLING ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

[mushiver]

Ford woke up from a nog-coma and dropped his snow globe from Fiddleford

You're telling me he fell asleep holding the snow globe from Fiddleford .........

[nenoname]

with the discussion of what exactly is true and whats false with BoB i can't help but think about stan going

"--y’know make her see the real me because sometimes the truth is hiding within a lie. Y’know like, you might tell a lie, like uh, “I fought a monster for your pig” and the truth is you’re directly responsible for the pig getting stolen b-but the deeper truth is you would’ve fought a monster, right? It’s like a, it’s sorta like a truth turducken; lie, truth, lie, truth– y’know who’s really to say what is real and what is not?"

what does this mean in terms of the book? idk man i'm just thinking about truth lie turduckens....

[huginsmemory]

On ad astra per aspera ✨

Can we talk about the repeated use of ad astra per aspera? Cause uhhhh it shows up twice, once on the website and once in the Book of Bill, and OH BOY this has connotations, both for Bill and Ford's relation in the literal and figurative meaning on the word, and for Bill's own history:

(extra addition added 16/09/2024! 🌝 )

First, in the website (if I recall correctly) if the phrase ad astra per aspera is inputted into the computer, you get the two pages on Bill's 'funeral':

And within, in the pages, at the very end before signing there names is the phrase itself (highlighted in red) .

Secondly, a joke version of it is seen in the Book Of Bill, specifically on the night where Bill and Ford fucked 'one thing led to another':

In this one, it's clearly a joke off of aspirin used for his hangover, used again to close the entry.

Now the phrase ad astra per aspera itself means 'through suffering to the stars', which also has... wider connotations then just these two piece alone, which I'll unpack later. But first, the interesting choice of connection of these two pieces;

Both times the phrases occur, they occur closing the entry; a bit too much of a coincidence to me (and in this fandom there is no such thing as a coincidence). Considering that the 'one thing led to another' night is a night that was important to their relationship as it hints at the intimacy they had with each other, it showing up again in Ford's 'funeral' entry about Bill feels very much like an allusion to that night. Especially considering in the funeral entry Ford is very open about how much he cared about Bill, with how he at one point "considered him the centre of his life". The entry from Ford reads as someone who is moving on, and part of this is acknowledgement of the grief and sadness for the more positive part of the abusive relationship that he lost. As a result, having him acknowledge the intimacy of their relationship, it makes sense for him to tongue in cheek allude back to his first writing down of the phrase, where they were quite clearly implied to fuck be intimate.

While it alludes to their Bill and Ford's intimacy, the literal and metaphorical meaning of the phrase also rings true here; through suffering to the stars. If we talk literally, then through Ford's relationship with Bill, something that ultimately was full of suffering, he built the portal, and ended up wandering the myriad worlds out there in space; one may say out there among the stars. He literally was out there wandering the stars as a result of suffering.

Now metaphorically, the phrase means through suffering/adversity one gains beautiful/worthwhile things. Considering this entry is Ford moving on from Bill, this is very apt; again, their relationship caused Ford immense suffering, and as he is now letting that relationship and suffering go, he's instead prioritizing creating healthy relationships with Stanley, the other twins and Fiddleford (the something beautiful and worthwhile part!). In fact, the entry on Bill's funeral is half on him strengthening his relationship with Mabel, the shooting star, another layer of wordplay; case in point about the healthy relationships. He's weathered through his abusive relationship, to discover and create a loving family.

It doesn't quite end there however; although that's fairly it for specifically Ford and Bill's relationship, we also haven't talked about what the stars mean to Bill himself. Which, well; it's very clearly implied that Bill accidentally killed everyone in his dimension in an attempt to show his parents (and other people in his dimension) the stars. And on top of that, to quote; "I looked up and saw the stars. And I was ready to become one of them". Which he then in a way, becomes, considering the page in journal 3 on constellations, in which Ford remarks that one of his favourite constellations is the constellation 'William' (obviously Bill). It's a bittersweet immortalization of himself after everything that occurs around trying to see the stars for Bill.

So I find it very interesting that for Ford, a phrase about suffering and stars is something he ends up correlating to his relationship with Bill, considering that to Bill, to get to the stars is something he deeply suffered for as a result. It's also important to note that Bill's suffering was something that occurred out of love, and ultimately an attempt to be understood and create a deeper relationship with his parents where they could trust him. And then for Ford, all this while later, to look up to the stars (to see them) and to see the Bill constellation and go 'oh that's one of my favourites' is fulfillment. Because Ford during that time trusted and cared deeply for Bill, fulfilling that relationship of trust, love and understanding(at least surface level, considering the way they banter together), that Bill had yearned for when he was younger and killed his plane.

So all in all(tldr): ad aspera per astra, (through suffering the stars), is quite the fun phrase to unpack in regards to Bill and Ford's relationship, considering the deliberate reference to the phrase on the entry about the night 'where one thing led to another' and Bill's funeral entry. The phrase is a combination of references; tongue in cheek allusion to the intimacy, but also references to the literal (space fugitive) and figurative (abusive relationship, to loving family again pipeline) hardships Ford endured as a result of the relationship. There is also irony in the way that Ford seems to correlate this phrase about suffering and stars with Bill and his relationship, considering that out of an effort to be understood and share the stars with his parents, Bill accidentally killed his whole dimension; later he also made a constellation of himself. As well, as Ford says that one of his favourite constellations is a constellation that's clearly Bill in Journal 3, it alludes to that Bill's wish to show his parents the stars and be recognized is fulfilled by Ford (pre-portal incident that is).

EDIT: extra details added on the constellation piece as of Aug 14 2024 (less than 24 hours after og posting, because I'm deranged). Big thanks to @bowl-o-nudel for the nudge :)

Edit (16/09/2024): I've had a few people say that the saying has appeared in Journal 3 multiple times, and having reread journal 3, to my delight it is indeed correct! And oh the CONTEXT they give. The two instances are those seem below; the first appearance in the title page of Journal 3, and second time is a page from when the twins graduate.

As well as all the parallels of how the phrase is applied for both Bill and Ford, as @zoizyboigy suggested, it seems to be a phrase that Ford takes as his own motto. It seems to be a highly personal motto to him; after all, they all are written around important turning moments in Ford's life; graduating, the journals which where to be his ticket to fame, fucking a triangle finding acceptance and intimacy with Bill , and lastly, moving on in his life from Bill and his destructive obsession with recognition. 

And it makes sense WHY this motto is one that is highly personal to Ford; the first time it is seen chronologically is when he's graduating, chosen when he believes he's going to be accepted into the university. It's a motto he chose because he was excited, because he thought he was already through his suffering and arriving to the stars of his fancy university, where validation and acceptance would abound; only that doesn't happen, and the suffering part within the motto is the only thing that's accurate, especially as that's when he rejects Stan. It's a motto chosen in celebration, that becomes a reminder of the failure to become someone who is accepted and important (and his prioritization of validation over relationships); it's now something he holds that reminds him of the validation he believes he deserves and he obsessively chases. 

And that's why you see it in the journal pages, because these journals are going to change his life, he's going to become finally a person of importance and be accepted with the information he's compiled in the journals. And in the same way, you see it after Bill (and interdimensional being of ancient knowledge) and him are intimate; he's become someone of importance to Bill, he's been accepted by Bill, even attractive to Bill (romance Ford seems to have terrible luck in).

And that's why you see it at the end of Ford's farewell to Bill; it's another turning point, it's Ford letting his obsession with world validation go which characterized it's meaning from the beginning, Ford letting go of his relationship with Bill, which it also came to mean, and instead celebrates his acceptance within his family and the strengthening of those bonds, and of prioritizing healthy, loving relationships.

Ps, if you enjoyed this meta post, I've also made another one, on exceptionalism!

[earth4angels]

𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐫

modern!jacaerys x f!reader

── semi angst? jacaerys is super in love, gets teased about it! one sided?? has an open ending, open for interpretation, not edited.

summary: over the course of an year, he watches her from afar, admiring the small details, falling in love with a stranger that does not know he exists. and as the final year of school almost at its end, he questions whether he wasted time or if it’s the perfect time to recover lost time.

a/n: short drabble and very rushed bc i just needed to post this before my idea died, and it’s a little sad with some fluff sorry jace nation, listen to beautiful stranger by laufey

jace tag list: @jacaerysgf @star611 @jules420 @gracexthoughts @astrxq @reyndaisy @hxtd @smurfelle @nanaldy @valdezthg @littleblackcatinwonderland @nixtape-foryou @starrgurl46 @ethereal-athalia @stelleduarte @canyonmoon-2 @ambrosia-v-black @ilovequeen978 @melsunshine

The wind blew through his face hard enough for his long trences of hair to fall into his mouth and his eyes. He sighed irritably, his hands pushing his hair back while he took the strands that ended in his mouth away.

He checked his watch, biting his lip when he realized he was running late to school - his mother would surely kill him if she found out. He always rejected their personal driver to take him to school as he did not like bragging about his status so he relied on public transportation to blend in with his classmates.

He never whined about it either, he loved the scenery, but most especially he loved to watch you.

You were beautiful, your hair always styled in bows, clips, your ears were always covered by your headphones blocking the noise of the outside as he would always see you reading. He studied every single detail of yours, the slight crinkle of your eyes when you read something interesting, the way you constantly licked your lips as your eyes darted through the pages of your book. He saw you always with pens as you highlighted or wrote in your journal pieces he would figure grabbed your attention.

Jacaerys admired you from afar, and often found himself dreaming about you when the day ended.

“I don’t know why you haven’t talked to her. You’re Jacaerys Velaryon, heir of your family’s business after your mother Rhaenyra Targaryen,” Cregan nudged him as the said heir only shook his head, his curls bouncing, he looked away to the window to watch you cross the street, your long hair blowing delicately against the wind.

“It’s not like it matters, school ends in two weeks. We will all graduate, and I will be moving miles away to attend law school. It wouldn’t work,” Jace muttered, his hands rubbing against each other, a nervous tic of his.

Cregan groaned childishly, “You depress me Velaryon. The gods made you with such looks you could pull anyone and you’re wasting it on a complete stranger? Someone you haven’t even made moves on for an entire year?!”

Jace glared at him before muttering again, “A year and a half… actually.”

“Seven hells mate. You have gone absolutely mad,” Cregan shook his head in disbelief, rolling his eyes at his idiotic lovesick best friend who hung his head.

Jacaerys did want to speak to you, maybe he could’ve asked what book you read or make a random question about what train stop took him to the academy. He didn’t know, but maybe he just could’ve just said something to get you to look at him. Time was clicking and he didn’t know how much longer he should wait.

He saw you enter the train again, this time a fluffy hat sat on your head, your cheeks a rosy pink from the wind outside, in your hands held a book. He smiled knowing you were going to spend another ride with your nose deep in the pages. You were so delicate with every move you made, and he felt like you lit the entire room with your presence.

He already knew your routine for how much he had seen you, but this time it was different. You turned your head looking around finding him sitting by the window, your eyes met his fiery brown ones. It was then he felt like he was going to faint, his heart beating rapidly - you smiled.

You smiled and he felt like the world vanished, leaving him breathless. It was only you, a ray of light caressing your shoulders illuminating you like a goddess. It was his chance… this was the chance he could’ve said anything. Yet he did something so idiotic that he went home that day slamming his head into the pillow cursing himself for being so stupid.

He looked away, his cheeks turning red. He did not smile or said anything but rather fixated on the blurs of the streets that passed by.

As the last week of school came, and his friends teased him about a crush on the beautiful stranger he was infuriated with - he found himself sitting the train ride again.

The familiar stop came, and he listened to the doors slide open, his hands shaking from the nervousness. The seat next to him suddenly became occupied, he did not look thinking it was a stranger that sat next to him.

A soft chuckle was heard and it made his heart flutter crazily, he peeked beside him slowly finding the beautiful stranger next to him.

You smiled at him, for you were waiting for him to speak first.

You did notice him a lot, and you knew about him, the famous Jacaerys Velaryon, first born son of the famous businesswoman Rhaenyra Targaryen.

You saw him in every train ride, but you also saw him on campus, laughing with his friends, often throwing a football as he played during lunch breaks. He was popular, maybe for his name or his money, but he walked around campus with such grace - his aura leaving many boys with envy and girls wanting him.

Your smile never left your lips as he stared at you in disbelief that you actually sat next to him.

From up close, you were much more beautiful, your scent overwhelming him as you smelled like he thought you would, a mix of floral and vanilla, you smelled like home.

Graduation was two days away. And he was set to leave the week after to start summer camp.

Perhaps, it was too late to start anything but his chance came to finally hear your voice, to at least know your name, the girl, the beautiful stranger that made his dreams sweet and made him smile when he sat to think of you.

Jace finally smiled back, and his soft voice made your insides warm, “Hello.”

[storiesforallfandoms]

making amends ~ bucky barnes;marvel

word count: 2528

request?: no

description: in which she finds out that their three year relationship started by him trying to make amends for his brainwashed past

pairing: bucky barnes x female!reader

warnings: swearing, angsty angst, use of y/n, mentions of bucky’s winter soldier past, mentions of an incident that left the reader in critical condition

masterlist (one, two, three)

(Y/N) placed the basket of clothes on her and Bucky’s bed. Bucky was away, and she had the day off, so she decided to do a clean of the whole house. She had just finished a load of laundry that had been waiting to be washed for at least two weeks. That included Bucky’s laundry, which he usually did himself but he had also let it pile up the last few weeks.

After folding it, (Y/N) turned to Bucky’s dresser to put his clothes away. When she opened the top drawer, she noticed something tucked away. She pulled it out and found it was a small moleskin journal. She hadn’t seen it before. Before she could consider what it might be for, or why Bucky might be hiding it away, she opened it.

It was a list of names. (Y/N) didn’t recognize any of them, but they were undoubtably written in Bucky’s writing. There were pages of names, some of which were crossed out. (Y/N) knew about Bucky’s past - about being a man out of time who was once a brainwashed weapon for Hydra. She began to wonder if these names were people he once knew. Maybe family of his old friends from the 40s, or whoever was still alive from then.

That seemed like a reasonable explanation, until she saw her name was one of the ones crossed out.

She backed up until her legs collided with the bed. She fell back to a sit, staring long and hard at her own name.

Why am I included in Bucky’s journal? she thought. Was he looking for me? And if so, why?

She was so lost in her own thoughts that she didn’t hear Bucky coming home. Suddenly, he was stood in the doorway to the bedroom. (Y/N) looked up at him, still with a look of confusion on her face. Bucky had been smiling, but when his eyes fell onto the book, his smile faded. His reaction made her heart sink. She would feel guilty for looking through his stuff under different circumstances, but now all she could think of was what the journal was for.

Bucky broke their silence first, “Where’d you find that?”

“It was in your top drawer,” she replied. Quickly, she added, “I found it while putting the laundry away. I didn’t think...” She trailed off, looking back down at the book. “What is this?”

Bucky ran his hand through his hair and sighed. There was no use in lying about it. He had to come clean eventually. “You know how we’ve talked about my time as the Winter Soldier? All the bad I did while I was under their control?”

She nodded. Of course, how could she ever forget? He had opened up to her very early on in their relationship about what he had gone through under Hydra’s control. He told her because he said he didn’t want to keep secrets from her, and he wanted to give her the opportunity to leave before the relationship got too serious if what he did changed her opinion on him. It was a shock, especially since she was a former SHIELD agent who had heard plenty of stories about the infamous Winter Soldier, but she assured him that her opinion on him hadn’t changed. “You are not that person,” she ahd told him.

“When Shuri deprogrammed me,” he explained, “and when I started going to therapy, my therapist suggested finding a way to make amends for all the bad I did. That book is a list of people I hurt...or-or killed as the Winter Soldier. I’ve met with most of them, or their remaining families, and done whatever I could do to make amends.”

(Y/N) looked at all the names again. All people from Bucky’s past. People he hurt when he didn’t even have control over his own body and mind. The crossed out names were people he felt he had made amends with.

Her name was one of the ones crossed out.

“Why am I here?” she asked. Her voice was so soft he may not have heard it if he didn’t have enhanced hearing.

“Do you remember that mission you went on that resulted in you leaving SHIELD?”

(Y/N) tensed. She remembered, although very slightly. She had some gaps in her memory from that night, but she remembered the most important part: that she had almost died.

The details of the mission were one of the foggy things. All she could remember was being sent to a supposed Hydra base with other SHIELD agents. She had gone off by herself. She was moving down what she thought was an empty hallway. That’s where her memory stopped. Next thing she knew, she had woken up in a hospital bed days later. Fury didn’t tell her many details, just that she was attacked and nearly lost her life. Another agent had luckily found her before it was too late.

Fury had offered to let (Y/N) be off as long as she needed. He assured her that her job would be waiting for her when she was ready to come back. Instead, (Y/N) quit on the spot.

When she finally dared to look up at Bucky, she saw that he was crying. She had been holding back her own emotions, but seeing Bucky break was enough to make her finally break too.

“It was me,” Bucky admitted, his voice breaking. “I did that to you.”

(Y/N)’s hands clutched the journal. She was tempted to rip it to shred and leave the pieces scattered all over the bedroom floor. Their bedroom floor. The bedroom in the house that they had bought together nearly a year ago.

“Was any of it real?”

She didn’t mean to say it out loud. It was a thought that slipped through her filter before she could stop herself. But it was also a question she needed an answer on. She had already spent three years of her life with Bucky, and had planned to spend the rest of it with him, too. But if all of this was just a way for him to “make amends” with her...that would’ve hurt her worse than finding out that the man she loved was the reason she almost died.

Although, that wasn’t Bucky. That’s what she had been telling him since he first told her about the Winter Soldier. He wasn’t in control, he didn’t know what he was doing. He was made to think he was a weapon to be used against anyone Hydra viewed as an enemy, and at that point in time, (Y/N) was the enemy in question.

But it was Bucky who had lied to her for three years. Post-brainwashed Bucky, who knew this whole time that he had hurt her when he was under Hydra’s spell. Who had sought her out to “make amends”, and just so happened to end up in a relationship with her.

Bucky seemed hurt by the question. “Of course! Of course, all of it was real. All of this is real.”

“You say that like it’s an outrageous thing to ask, but how can I not think that maybe this is how you decided to ‘make amends’ with me?”

She was standing now. She didn’t even notice she had stood, but now she was looking Bucky in the eye.

“Three years, Buck,” she continued. “We’ve been together for three years. You had so much time to tell me this, and you never did. Were you ever going to? Or were you just going to let me believe that we met by chance in a grocery store and fell in love and it was all happily ever after?”

“I tried to tell you,” he said. “When I first told you about my past, I wanted to tell you then. That was the whole reason I told you. But then you were being so understanding and kind, and you were making me feel less like a monster, I just...I couldn’t. I thought if I told you then...that you wouldn’t have been as understanding.”

“Bucky, I’m not upset or mad or scared of you because of what happened. I know that wasn’t you. That’s what I’ve been saying for ages, that you’re not the Winter Soldier. What I am upset about is that you didn’t tell me about this amends thing. You didn’t even mention that it was something you did. I had to find out three years into our relationship, which now has me questioning whether or not this whole thing was just a way for you to make amends with me.”

“No! No, (Y/N), it’s not - ”

He reached out for her and she took a step back. They both paused as (Y/N) realized what she did. She had done it out of anger, but the look in Bucky’s eyes told her that he was afraid she was doing it out of fear, too. That one look was enough to make her anger turn to sympathy. She was still angry, and she was sure that anger wasn’t going anywhere, but she could understand Bucky’s hesitance in telling her about the attack. That just wasn’t the issue she was currently having.

“How did you plan to make amends with me?” she asked. “Because if taking me out on that first date was your plan, I’m going to be so upset and hurt - ”

“No, not at all,” he cut her off. “We met ages before I asked you on a date, remember? You said it yourself, it was at the grocery store.”

“Had you been looking for me, though? Was that actually a chance encounter, or did you look for me?”

He hesitated before responded, “I had looked for you. You were one of the few people who were already in New York, so I went looking to find out where you lived and figured out which places you were likely to visit in that area. I didn’t follow you or anything, but I did go to some of those places frequently to try and run into you.”

(Y/N) didn’t think about the slight creepy and stalker way that sounded. She had to remind herself he was saying he didn’t do that to try and start a relationship with her.

“We got to talking, and you told me about the issues you were having in your apartment,” he said. “You said your landlord was a piece of shit and didn’t offer any help whenever you needed it. So, I offered to help. Remember, I was there basically a whole day just fixing whatever issues you had?”

She remembered. She had been hesitant to accept the offer from a strange man she had only met moments before in a grocery store, but her old apartment was basically falling apart. She had done the best she could to fix whatever she knew how, but there were still so many issues, and her landlord kept blowing her off whenever she had talked to him about it. She was desperate. Not to mention she still had her SHIELD training if Bucky had ended up trying to pull anything while he was there.

“That was my amends,” he told her. “I knew it could never measure up to what I did to you, but it was something you needed done and I helped you. I crossed you off the list then and there, and I completely left you alone. I hadn’t thought about you for months after that, until...”

“Until we ran into each other on the street,” she remembered.

It was three or four months after Bucky had fixed up her apartment when she saw a familiar face walking the packed sidewalk of New York. She had been the one to initiate the conversation then. Bucky hadn’t even seemed to notice her until she waved him down and called out his name.

“And you basically begged for my number so we could keep in contact,” he reminded her. “I tried to stay away. I knew it was wrong, sick even, for me to get involved with you at all. But you had these big, pleading eyes, and you wouldn’t really take no for an answer. And then we got to talking, and one thing led to another and I found myself asking you on a date.”

When Bucky stepped towards her, reaching for her again, (Y/N) didn’t pull away. Instead, she let him take her into his arms. He was slow, giving her the option to pull away if she wanted to, and when she didn’t he pulled her all the way to him. She rested her head on his chest as he put his chin on the top of her head.

“I’m so sorry I never told you,” he said. “I know I should’ve. It’s eaten away at me for so long. But at time went on, I just fell more and more in love, and I was scared. I was selfish. You never should’ve had to find out this way.”

(Y/N) sighed. “No, I shouldn’t have. You should’ve told me when things really started to get serious. Especially about the amends stuff.”

“I know. I’m sorry, doll.” He kissed the top of her head, his lips lingering against her hair. “I understand if you need time to process everything. Like I said, I know it was wrong to pursue a relationship after what I did to you - ”

“How many times will I have to remind you that you are not the Winter Soldier?” she asked, pulling away so she could look at him. “Honestly, knowing that doesn’t affect our relationship. I fell in love with Bucky Barnes, the kind man who is carrying such a large burden on his shoulders because of other people who are actually evil. That part of the story isn’t what upsets me. It’s finding out that I was on an amendment list and not knowing how much of this relationship was actually real.”

Bucky cupped her face with his flesh hand, almost like he was afraid of her reaction to his metal arm now that she knew the truth. “All of it is real. I love you so, so much, (Y/N). I can’t imagine my life without you.”

She leaned into his touch. “I love you, too.”

He pulled her in for a kiss, but she pulled away. “You’ll have to add me back to that list.”

He looked at her, confused. “What?”

“After learning about all of this, you have to make a new amendment with me. Say, breakfast in bed? Oh, or maybe that puppy you keep conveniently forgetting we agreed to get?”

He smiled and pulled her to him again. When he kissed her, she didn’t pull away.

“I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll give you the whole world if it proves to you how much I love you.”

(Y/N) giggled. “Let’s start smaller with the puppy instead.”

Bucky chuckled. “Deal. We’ll go to the pound next week.”

“Tomorrow.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against hers. “Fine. Tomorrow.”

[mo0nfairy]

ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ UNCHAINED MELODY, PART THREE !

summary :: surviving raccoon city together, you catch the affections of leon kennedy, ada wong, jill valentine, and carlos oliveira. six years later, you reunite with them and realize their obsession with you has increased tenfold.

chapters :: the masterlist.

word count :: 6.4k

content warnings :: mdni! yandere!leon, yandere!ada, yandere!jill, yandere!carlos, suicidal themes, grief/death, weapons, violence, blood, maladaptive daydreaming, implied masturbation, drugging, kidnapping, unhealthy & unrealistic religious themes.

carlos oliveira's yandere traits are . . .

worshiper, delusional, & nurturing

──── Carlos Oliveira hates the scent of ink. Yet still, his hands are covered in the excess of the relentless use of such.

It stains everything. His ragged clothes, his fingers, the top secret documents he couldn't be bothered to care after. Despite his loathing of the material, it somehow seems to follow him with every step he walks. It doesn't take away the sheer relief he feels when he uses the same ink to jot down everything in his journal. While Carlos is far from home and occupied with his position as a Corporal, he fills pages upon pages of entries assigned to you. From how he swore he heard your laughter at lunch that day to obsessive hours spent writing your name over and over again, he finds it soothing, in an odd sense. Everything the ink touches revolves around you in some shape or form.

Y/N L/N. The name he will never forget.

Carlos remembers your aromatic sweat, your intoxicating breath, your perfumed skin; he will never forget how you ended his life in Raccoon City. It was persephonic, the last day of his life. Through the maze of chaos and gore, he found you, his little taste of heaven before he would face his demise. However, he is still shamefully alive. And selfishly, Carlos wishes that he had died that night. He should be grateful, as insinuated by the thousands of innocent lives lost and his family thanking the universe for sparing their boy. But, he just isn't. He can't, as much as he tries.

Even though his heart still beats, something within him has been dead for these past five years. He tries to heal his soul which decomposes with every day that goes by, but his efforts are brought to no avail. As much as he attempts to write out the fairytale he desperately wishes would materialize into reality, the truth sits and rots beneath a canopy of pretty lies.

You are dead and there is nothing he can do about it.

If Carlos thinks too much about it, he'll be brought to tears. And he can't afford another days-long meltdown filled with unruly sobbing and staggering guilt. He just can't. Instead, he defiles his brain with dreams of you that he deludes himself into believing are real. Writing his sweet spouse letters while he is away from home, buying you trinkets and clothes from foreign places, and leaving behind warm plates of food for you to enjoy. The truth of your well-being dances in the back of his head like a ghost in an attic. However, fully acknowledging you are gone would just about kill him. Carlos will prolong it as long as it can, no matter how fast the inevitable truth gains on him.

"My honey, My sweet, My lover. I will be home soon. Please wait for me, my bumblebee." Ink stains Carlos' fingers as he jots down yet another letter to you. He wonders if you also hate the way ink stains your fingers when you finally write back to him. His heart swells when he imagines you receiving his letter all safe and cozy in the home you share together. One day, he'll receive a letter back from you. The ghost of the truth lurks in the mind, but he turns his back to it. One day, he'll receive a letter back from you.

Five years without you and all that sunshine and wit he used to possess has depleted. Now, it's impossible to know when the ticking time bomb that is Carlos Oliveira may explode.

Unbeknownst to his peers, every emotion expressed is a manifestation of you, whether good or bad. After working the day away, Carlos becomes agitated after such treacherous hours without being able to bathe his mind in the light of you. The anger suffocates whatever room he walks into, causing the people within to recoil from the energy alone. No one has forgotten the time when a few colleagues had poked the bear after a single day Carlos spent unable to return to the thought of you. This inevitably caused an hour-long outburst of broken bones, furniture thrown about, and an eruption of unconsolable tears and horrifying threats. The memory still sends goosebumps across the skin of witnesses and no one has dared to cross the man ever since.

All Carlos needs is to venture back to the lustrous haven within his head. Just you and him, together in extraterrestrial bliss. It's all he needs, please let him have it.

All he needs is indulge in the heavenly sights of you at this moment. Instead of the blood-stained reality that is his life, let him spend his days out in the wild with you. Breezy Summer days where the sun beats down and soaks you in its golden, empyrean hues. Carlos sits with his back against the trunk of a willow tree and you lay on a blanket with your head resting in his lap. The enchanting, peaceful state he has found himself in is almost enough to lull him into a slumber. But, how could he dare shut his eyes when the astonishing sight of you sits right before him? Carlos traces his fingers among the tracings of sunlight that peek through the branches and rest upon your face. Beautiful. How irrevocably, indubitably, catastrophically beautiful you are.

A picnic out in an empty field where the day would be spent letting the world fall away as he looks down on the love of his life. Your lips, ever-so appetizing, are dusted with sugar from the numerous treats Carlos made for this exact date. His hand cups your cheek and he caresses your cheekbone with his thumb, your smile growing in response. And the way it tugs on his heartstrings is almost as if your mere happiness was playing him like a string instrument. He gazes at you with so much wonder, it's practically baffling how in love a man could be. You offer him a bite of the pastry in your hand, but he declines. The heat of the season's temperatures and the burning love within Carlos is more than enough to keep him satiated.

Safe, content, and alive with love. There couldn't be a more perfect way to describe this precious moment with you. Safe, content, and alive with love.

A hand waving in his face brings him back to his unforgiving reality. No more sunshine, no more birdsong, no more you. The dread that permeates his entire being could rival the pain of being stabbed in the heart. Carlos jumps in surprise and casts his eyes upward to find Tyrell, whose worried eyes peer at him through the glasses perched on his nose. His body is tense, terrified of treading over a boundary and causing another outburst. Only this time, he fears the several guards with syringes that were able to make him comply before would fail this time. And Tyrell wouldn't be able to escape Carlos' wrath with his life.

However, in the head of Carlos, he can't fathom why his colleague was suddenly so afraid of him. Maybe it was the way his expression was entirely unconscious. Maybe it was the way his eyes were wide and distant, in a completely different world. Maybe it was the way his lips would twitch into a smile that would be deemed creepy or maybe it was how he whispered unintelligible sentences under his breath. All of this remains unknown to Carlos, as he was far too busy in la-la-land to pay attention to his surroundings. Tyrell then motions to the ground, where Carlos finds how his pen had managed to roll across the floor and how his journal was now sitting face-down against the concrete. When did he drop those?

"Are you okay, man?" The question echoes as if he was standing miles away from him. Is he? Is he ok? These days, it never really feels like it. Only when he can escape to his paradise does he truly feel okay.

"You kept saying something. Over and over again." Carlos can barely render the words spoken by his friend.

"Y/N. Who is that-?"

Something snaps within Carlos. The fireworks you have ignited inside him have been snuffed out like a cigarette; the skipping of his heart trips over itself like a child sprinting down a jagged sidewalk. Your name alone sitting on someone else's tongue is more than enough to send him spiraling into an envious frenzy. You've never even met this poor man, but Carlos' brain infests his thoughts with visions of you and Tyrell together. This parasite paints images of you in the same field, in each other's arms, hopelessly devoted to one another. Happy with one another. And the stifling jealousy practically makes Carlos maniacal. It should be him, it should be him. He doesn't deserve it, but it should be him with you. Not Tyrell, never him, please not him please choose me please just choose me I will do anything baby please-

Carlos doesn't even think before he's swinging his right arm back and surging it forward to Tyrell's face. He can't win, he can't win, he can't. Permeating pain flashes like a flickering light and it courses through his entire arm. This sudden flare of weakness grants Tyrell the opportunity to block the attack before it lands. He now just stares at his friend in complete horror. Carlos falls to the floor of the infirmary and inspects the source of pain, finding that his right bicep has been covered in thick gauze. What was once white and clean is now tattered with blood-red stains. The memories hit him like a train. How could he have forgotten? Was he so caught up in his fantasies that he failed to recall what happened mere hours ago?

One of the most prominent and more so realistic fantasies (in his opinion) Carlos has is of you in heaven, watching over him like his own personal guardian angel. To finally accept your death would shatter him entirely, but to think of how your soul has lived on and is now living in promised eternal bliss calms his stuttering heart. His relentless acknowledgment of this fantasy has caused disastrous side effects, however. Behind the scenes, he has caught himself on many occasions contemplating death. To indulge in his demise and to see you on the other side, Carlos knows it shouldn't make him this exhilarated. Still, he continues to wallow in the celestial phenomenon of joining you in the clouds.

He refuses to fulfill these suicidal tendencies for the sole reason of how you'd perceive him afterward. You had ever so bravely lost your life to the wreckage of Raccoon City; you died a fucking warrior. Whom would Carlos be if he simply ended the torment by slitting his wrists? The echo of your voice barking of how much of a coward he'd be for killing himself over such dramatic, puny reasons makes Carlos recoil in shame. This obsession of his has accelerated to a degree where he'll purposely slack off during missions, hoping that he'll be fatally caught in the crossfire. A bullet through the brain and he'd wake up beside you, where you'll praise him for his bravery and how he died a hero.

To reunite with you — that is the only thing Carlos could ever want.

Today was no different. Yet, while his comrades shout for him to take cover and question why he is being such an idiot, it finally happened. Barrelling through the air is a bullet, which buries itself into the flesh of his right arm. The force sends Carlos to the ground. When others try to take hold of him and drag him to safety, he swats them off like they're nothing but pesky mosquitoes on a humid July afternoon. And he laughs so loudly and so manically, it could almost convince the enemy that the Corporal is secretly the Joker.

It all makes sense now. You had broken your right arm five years ago and now, Carlos has been shot in the exact same arm. This must be you! This must be your way of lending your hand through the sky, guiding him to join you in heaven! You are here with him and Carlos can't restrict the genuine smile and streaming tears from forming on his face. Now, however, the wounds your tender heart left have now been cared for. These doctors have defiled your mark on him; they have sullied the gift you have so kindly given him. And the fury that bubbles inside of Carlos in response is nothing short of harrowing.

Through the heaving breaths of the man he once considered to be his friend, Tyrell finally speaks up with a waver in his voice. "You-You need help, Carlos. I don't know who Y/N is, but-"

"YOU SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH!" Carlos' outburst explodes and the ringing of it settles like a blast wave. It bounces off the walls and reverberates through the ears of both men.

The anger is practically palpable. What Tyrell failed to notice through that rageful veneer was the pieces of Carlos' broken heart that lies beneath. With every passing second, this phantom within him reminds him of the state of your well-being. You're dead, you're gone, I won't see you ever again. With naivety Carlos excuses as the truth, he continues to ignore this voice. He has been stuck in a five-year-long chase with his logic and will continue running for five more if he needs to. And slowly but surely, this endless race is tearing him apart.

Tyrell leaves without so much as another breath. One question stays heavy on his mind, though. Whoever you are, Y/N, what the fuck have you done to him?

The patient must be given PTO to avoid another breakdown that could potentially accelerate into lethal violence — that was the "excuse" the doctors gave to the Sergeant regarding Carlos' wellbeing. This leaves him here. Alone and driving back to his estate. Meanwhile, his brain is blooming with iridescent fantasies he claims to be memories. Driving home to you after a long day of work and bringing you all the money and love you could ever ask for. He wonders, would you wait for him to come home? Would he find you asleep on the sofa, succumbing to your drowsiness before he'd be able to open the door? Or would you be in the bedroom? The soft glow of the lamp light framing your face as you peel back the covers, welcoming him into your idyllic embrace?

The tires of his car begin to skid off the road. Carlos is brought out of his imagination, where he then jerks the vehicle back into its proper position in the lane. You may just be the death of him, he muses. And when he finally arrives home, he tries to ignore the love letters he sent to you piling in the mailbox, the trinkets and clothes he bought you collecting dust, and the dinner he left for you that is now putrid and overwhelmed with mold. He tries to avoid how much it actually kills him. But still, this aching sense of dread rots in the pit of his stomach. It isn't until he glances at the calendar pinned on the wall does the devastation finally settle like fresh snow.

The date today was September 28th, 2004.

Six years.

It's been six years since he survived Raccoon City; it's been six years since he met you and lost you on the same night. This isn't the first revelation that comes to mind, though. Instead, he feels absolutely mortified by his own negligence. It's your sixth-year anniversary, how could he have forgotten? What kind of person, boyfriend, husband is he to forget this day? He should have brought home chocolate, flowers, shit, maybe even taken you on a month-long vacation to a resort across the world. God, how could he be so fucking stupid? You two could have been at each other's side during the most important day of the year (besides your birthday, of course). But no, he just had to get so caught up in his head that he forgot the anniversary of the day that made him the man he is today.

Another epiphany, one of the much more luminescent standards, hits Carlos once again. This must be why you had never written back to him. You aren't dead, you're simply upset with him! All the letters, all the gifts, all the plates of food, everything you have neglected — it was just your way of expressing your anger. Ha, take that, brain! And despite the circumstances, Carlos imagines the scowl on your face and is absolutely giddy from the vision alone. You're upset with him, yes, but you're alive. His sweet lover is here with a beating heart and an angry head. And God, does it make Carlos practically shiver with glee.

He then storms through his house, looking into every nook and cranny in search of you. "Y/N? Honey? Honey, it's me! Look, I know you're upset, but I promise I will do everything I can to make it up to you!"

"Where would you like to go? Hawaii? Paris? Shit, Italy? Wherever you'd like, Y/N!" With each room left devoid of you, that wrenching misery returns piece by piece and yanks on what is left of his heart. His voice begins to crack as he continues to shout for you. "Y/N, please! Please come out, honey! I'll do anything, Y/N... Please..."

Carlos then collapses to the hardwood floor, his body crushed with the sobs now protruding from his chest. Tears pour down his cheeks with uncontrollable force before landing on the ground beneath. And he cries so violently that he fears his ribcage may shatter from the force of it alone. He can't accept it, he can't, he can't, he can't. Even if this is what the rest of his life looks like, just veiling the truth with delusional fantasies, Carlos will never face the honest conclusion. He just can't.

"Please, bumblebee... I need you..." It's a final, desperate prayer. For your presence or for mercy, Carlos isn't exactly sure which.

He then digs beneath the collar of his shirt and fishes out the necklace he has worn for six years now. Swung upon a rusted chain is the charm of a bumblebee, the yellow and black shades now decayed with age. Carlos (as forgetful as he now realized he is today) will never forget when he first received the necklace. It was right before you had boarded the subway train that would eventually lead to your departure from life. How you enveloped him in your sugar-sweet hug and the way your natural musk sat on your skin still drives him nuts after all these years. The memory brings him great comfort on restless nights spent tossing and turning in bed.

At that moment, however, he never realized how constricting his hold was on you until he hears something snap. Opening his eyes and awakening from the stupor of his cartoon-esque infatuation, he finds how he had underestimated his strength and crushed the clasp of your necklace. The state of your beloved jewelry piece is left oblivious to you. Carlos wasn't given a second to process what had happened before you're peeling your arms off of him and boarding the train. In his hands are the remnants of the necklace you left behind.

The insect symbolizes perseverance, which he finds is a perfect way to describe his life today. Persevering through every day until he can finally let his body rest six feet under; persevering through every day until he can join his honey, his bumblebee through the gates of heaven. Carlos presses another kiss of millions to the pendant as he sits in his lonely house, pretending it is your skin beneath his lips instead of the rusted metal. His heart is shattered, his body is weak, and his brain is infested with every kind of mayhem he has ever known, but he will push through it. He will push through any and all kind of chaos knowing you are at the end of the finish line. Waiting for him.

The quick tune of an email alert brings Carlos out of his lovesick, grief-burdened daze. Suddenly being torn away from the thought of you makes rage flood through his veins. He stomps over to shut his computer off, maybe even throw the monitor against the wall in the process. When he catches a glimpse of what is on his computer, he hesitates. A loud gasp then escapes from him.

On his computer is an email from an old friend.

Carlos is able to fly into the country in less than twenty-four hours. He has to take several deep breaths in order to eradicate the black dots dancing in his vision as he races to Jill's apartment. Seeing her face and the present relief in her expression, the all-too-overwhelming revelation settles. Carlos is surprised he hadn't blacked out right there on her doorstep in response. It's time to finally get you back.

And just like Jill and Carlos had orchestrated after two weeks of planning how they'd release you from Umbrella's clutches, one sip of the cup of tea in your hands and you were out like a light. Your collapse was harsh, evident in the loud thud that permeated when you landed. Fortunately, you had your blanket-cape there to cushion your fall. It doesn't stop the two from bursting the bathroom door open and rushing to your aid, however.

Without your knowledge, Jill and Carlos then proceed to take you far, far away from the place you had once called home.

"What the fuck?"

Despite knowing you were sleeping soundly just several rooms over, your sudden presence still manages to have their breath locked in their throat. The way you look at one another contradicts each other in such discrete ways, it's almost comical. You're hyperventilating, staring at the scene in front of you with eyes blown in crazed shock. Six years of grieving through the most traumatic night of your life, why is it now you find out they have been alive this whole time? These two, however, stare into your soul with so much wonder, you're almost convinced they thought they were looking at some sort of mythological creature. It's almost as if they're hypnotized. No movement, no response — just pure amazement at the sight of you alive and looking at them with eyes full of life.

It isn't until you take a cautious step back does it trigger them to escape their state of captivation. You venturing further away from them, even just a pace — they can't let it happen. Never again. While Jill resorts to calmly approaching you as if you were a stray cat, Carlos makes an abrupt dash for you. You take several more steps backward before the man you presumed to be dead became inescapable. With another onslaught of tears brimming in his eyes and a whimper fleeing from his throat, Carlos practically tackles you into a tenacious embrace.

The hold he has on you is ridden with disbelief and desperation. He's shaking against your body like an Autumn leaf drifting through the wind. Burying his nose further into your neck, he inhales the musk that sits on your skin as if he had been trapped underwater and you were a pocket of air. God, Carlos wasn't even able to look at you for more than one second before he started blubbering like a baby. The man is so absorbed in the moment of finally reuniting with you, he almost misses it when Jill smacks him on his arm and growls through clenched teeth for him to "get his fucking shit together." But, Carlos refuses to budge. He is ready to beg Jill to let him stay here, to please let him revel in the fact that this isn't another fantasy someone will wake him out of.

He somehow nestles his face further into the crook of your neck and brings your body closer to his, almost as if he was trying to mold you together as one. And at this moment, Carlos has yet another revelation. Years upon years of imagining what heaven looks like, he was entirely incorrect. There are no clouds, no birdsong, no vibrant gardens. This. Right here in this moment, this is what heaven is. To have you, the partner of his dreams, so close to him is nothing short of heavenly. For six years, he has dreamed of this moment. And if he were to die at this moment, Carlos would be elated to know he died the happiest he has ever been in his whole life.

Meanwhile, you're thrashing in the tight hold of his constricted strength. It's almost hard for you to breathe with how hard he’s squeezing you. The woman you see over his shoulder is collected, but only a fool would miss the way her shoulders tense and nostrils flare with rage (and a sliver of possessiveness, too). She receives your silent plea and grabs a fistful of his mop-head of hair, using all the might in her arm to pull him away from his own bear hug. Carlos reluctantly loosens his grasp on your form. However, he then resorts to checking you for any and all signs of life.

The past six years have been spent dodging the logical answer to your disappearance. Now, however, the sight of you alive is just too good to be true. He begins thoroughly checking your body for a pulse, listening intently to any irregularities in your heartbeat. Anything to assure him you are actually alive and breathing. When every sign and question points to 'yes' over if you are here, Carlos can hardly contain it. Finally seeing you walking, looking, talking, alive — it's like the crescendo of a beautiful song.

Jill, as collected as she is, does not differ from Carlos' state of emotion very much. She has thought of this moment at least a million times, rehearsing every syllable and breath to make the moment all the more perfect. Now, however, every perceivable thought in her head was robbed the second you entered the room. How desperately she wishes to reassure your safety, inform you of the lies you were told, and vow to never let another soul lay a single hand on you ever again. But, with her racing heart and this grizzly bear of a man latched to you like a leech, her idea of the perfect reunion has been spoiled. Still, for six years she has longed for this. Whether it's a steamy kiss beneath the moonlight or caught in Carlos' mess of tears, she couldn't be more elated to finally have you again.

Much to your dismay, your empty stomach then grumbles its frustrations into the silent air. In response, your face grows warm in embarrassment. You had been so occupied with the current events and battling your shock, the dinner you had missed out on the night before had gone overlooked. The two, however, react much differently to your perceptible hunger than you. Without a mere second to waste, they're fawning over you as if you were some powerful deity and they were your humble, loyal servants. Their infantilizing treatment of you makes your skin burn with even more heaps of humiliation.

"Oh? Are you hungry? I've almost finished breakfast!" Carlos breaks physical contact to return to the stove and you have to restrain yourself from expressing your perceptible relief.

"I... I didn't have dinner last night." With an exhale of dry laughter, your attempt to lighten the mood only does the opposite. How could they have let you go hungry? They brought you here to care for you the way they deserve and they have already failed!

A gentle hand on your lower back causes you to jump in startlement. You find Jill beside you, who helps guide your trembling legs to the kitchen table. Though, it doesn't take a genius to notice the way her hand lingers. Finally free of any unsolicited touch, you sit down at the end of the table. The only way you can bring yourself to any state of ease is to ignore the relentless cooing of the woman beside you and the furious scraping of a spatula against a pan. Almost as if Carlos was speeding through the process of cooking in order to get back to you sooner. Jill then sits beside you, taking your hands into hers. Being free of physical contact was good while it lasted, you joke to yourself.

"You're real... You're real, my butterfly, you're real." Jill indulges in the reality of your genuine touch, before shaking her head as if to wobble her rationality back in place.

A plate is soon served before you. And it is easily the most delectable dish you had ever seen; it looked like something straight out of a magazine, despite the frivolous efforts made by the chef. A gourmet omelet sits in front of you, steam pervading the air in invading your nostrils with its mouth-watering aroma. Adorned with spinach, tomato, and feta cheese, you could have easily downed the delicious serving in one gulp. Nausea swaying in your stomach like a boat on sea prevents you from doing such. You thank Carlos through stuttering breaths and almost miss the way his body softens from receiving your gratitude.

Always so possessive, Jill reverts your attention back to her. "There is so much you are unaware of, Y/N. But, we're here to help. You don't have to be afraid a second longer." Her reassurance does little to calm your nerves. "Right, Carlos?" He only nods weakly, completely dazed as he stares at you in adoration. Had he even heard what she said?

"We will not let anything happen to you." The gravity of her statement practically touches your bones with its weight. It scares you, the severity of the declaration.

Terrified of angering them (even though there is not a single thing you could do that would ever irritate them), you grasp the fork laid out for you on the pristine table. Your efforts are halted by Carlos, who sits down beside you, opposite of Jill. To satiate his gnawing need for you to be close, he pushes his chair to touch yours until you are both shoulder-to-shoulder. After all, you must be so terrified upon being kidnapped by such an evil corporation. It is his touch and comfort you need to lull you back into a place of tranquility, he's sure of it.

Carlos then takes the fork from your hands, nearly passing out when your thumb grazes his hand. To your horror, he plucks some food onto the utensil and holds it up to your lips, ushering you to let him feed you. Almost as if this was some romantic anniversary or something. Reluctantly, you open your mouth and let him place the bite of food on your tongue. And you would be a liar if you said this wasn't the most delicious meal you have ever eaten. Your tastebuds adorned in succulent food and flavorful seasoning, you joke that this dish is compensation for all the turmoil this morning has brought.

Slowly, as Carlos was painfully milking the moment for as long as he could, your hunger is satiated. The joy he garners from merely feeding you radiates off of him like a campfire against the dark night brume. Once the plate is wiped clean of even the smallest crumb (despite your assurances to him that you were full), Jill then wipes the corner of your mouth with her thumb. Your holy attention is reverted back to Carlos when he pokes your lips with a straw, once again, ushering you to let him nourish your stomach. "To wash it down" he excuses, with far too much exhilaration hanging heavy in his tone.

Indulging in the cold, fresh water as it cascades down your throat, you miss how Jill brings her thumb, now adorned with bits of food and your saliva, into her mouth. And she just relishes in the absolute taste of you. Her vision goes hazy and her eyelids droop from the ecstasy. She would have let herself completely fall into the arms of enrapturing oblivion if it weren't for the fact you were right beside her. Carlos takes notice, however, and a sneer forms on his lips as he looks at her in disgust. Jill bites her tongue, holding herself back from pointing out how he is no different. So easily, she could inform you of how after your intimate bath together, she found him inhaling your sweater with his eyes rolled back into his skull and his hand stuffed into his pants. If she were to voice this, however, the man would easily throw himself over the table and attack her like a feral animal. She can handle him, but you don't need even more stress.

Upon being thrust into the middle of this mess, the only thing you can do is watch as the obsession of Jill and Carlos play out before your very eyes. And the physical manifestation of your return has caused disastrous consequences. Six years and you're ashamed to say you have forgotten what their facial features looked like. The memory remains as a blurred, distorted mess of blood and grime. An expression of all the trauma you all have endured. Now, however, you'd be damned if those were two expressions you could ever forget.

Carlos and his dark goo-goo eyes, adorned in overwhelming heaps of drowning devotion that could swallow you whole with one glance. They're affixed with teardrops, adding onto everything cherubic, holy about the way he looks at you. Despite the sheer display of sadness leaking from his eyes, his lips exhibit the biggest, most genuine smile you have ever seen in your life. The way he looks at you, it's almost as if God himself had descended from the heavens and graced Carlos with his presence. All from just the mere act of feeding you. It was deranged, you thought to yourself.

His smile vanishes, eyebrows raising as something seems to click in his head. He then takes your right arm gingerly into his grasp, fingers treading amongst the field of goosebumps blossoming on your skin. "Your arm, you poor thing... Are you okay, honey?" The worry in his voice makes you shiver with convulsion. It takes you several seconds to compute that he was referring to the injury you endured six whole years ago.

Jill and her cheeks that are blazon in hues reminiscent of two ripe cherries, appending a sort of childish innocence to her always-stoic expression. The way her eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed displayed a sense of fury — presumably toward the man clinging onto you like a lifeline. When she looks at you, however, her features perceptibly soften as if beams of sunlight had enveloped her after years of being in the depths of Winter. It was deranged, you thought to yourself.

"You... You kidnapped me..." Even through all the violence and torment these two have endured, nothing had cut deep than those three words. The waver in your voice, the emotions brimming in your eyes, the trembling frown plastered on your lips. God, it killed them right then and there.

They begin to ramble and deny your accusation. All as if it wasn't a lie coming out of their mouths. And in their heads, it was anything but a lie. They truly believed that they saved you as if it was a genuine fact. Somehow, they manage to inch closer to you. The empty air around you becomes suffused with their waving hands and panicked explanations. All to convince you that they would never hurt you. Never.

"You're upset, Y/N, we understand. But you have to know that this was for your own good!" Jill remains the voice of reason, if that's what you would name it. Meanwhile, Carlos throws shambles of assurances such as, "It's not true!" and "I need you!" your way, hoping that something, anything will mend your fears.

And poor you. So confused, so terrified, so bewildered. All you could want at this moment is to go back twelve hours ago. To leave with your friend the second they entered the room, to scrutinize what in your home had caused you to black out, to burst down the front door and beg the the surrounding security guards to save you. Even though the truth of your “home” simmers just beneath the surface, itching to claw its way out, you still find yourself aching to go back to the way things were. Even if it is all just a fat lie. Anything is better than this.

Miles upon miles away, the three of you are completely unaware of the fourth presence treading closer to their secret. Suspicions high, Tyrell can't help but use some of his free time to venture into why Jill and Carlos had suddenly vanished. For the umpteenth time, he looks through more footage from the security system Jill was so insistent on receiving. And what he finds is horrifying. The two people he had once considered his friends were seen climbing through a window, to where they escape moments later with an unconscious body.

A flare of guilt spreads through him. Unwillingly, he had actively played a part in this. Whoever you were, he felt inclined to take full responsibility for helping these two take this innocent life away. To be kidnapped, murdered, he doesn't know. What Tyrell does know, however, is that he feels to be partially blamed for this. When he does further research, his heart sinks even deeper into the pit of his stomach. Reports of a missing patient were sent around the establishment. Y/N L/N, a potential runaway was actually the body nestled tight in Carlos' arms. He remembers how he had spoken that name and the reaction it garnered from Carlos; he remembers seeing the name on the door of the room Jill relentlessly paid him to receive footage of.

With that, Tyrell reports the incident. An investigation commences and two major clues are found. A shattered mug that had been filled with sedation-induced tea and specks of blood on the bathroom floor that have been tested positive for matching one of the assailants. Now, a manhunt is in play for Jill Valentine and Carlos Oliveira.

At his desk that was overwhelmed with littering documents, Tyrell eavesdrops on a conversation between his two colleagues.

"You won't believe who they've gotten to take over Carlos' spot for this mission!"

"Who?"

"Leon Kennedy."

⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 ۫ you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ

THE BONUS TRACK !

❝ WE WERE WILD AND FLUORESCENT

COME HOME TO MY HEART . . . ❞

this is what i imagined the necklace carlos stole borrowed from you to look like. however, you can imagine it as whatever you'd like!

[thewistlingbadger]

I don't think the vander/silco fall out was solely because of Felicia's death. I think it was more about their attitudes towards her death.

In the scene where Felicia reveals to them that she's pregnant, she says that she can't try to be a parent for the first time and protect her child from the dangers of Zaun all at once.

"But then I realized I don't have to. Because the second I told you, I put you on the hook. You two are going to figure this Zaun thing out. I don't care if you have to carve it out of the bedrock covered in blisters. You're not allowed to fail anymore. For her. For me."

Except they did fail. The demonstration on the bridge was a massive loss for Zaun. They lost tons of people, including Felicia. This is where the brothers diverged. I believe that Felicia's death made Vander prioritize safety where her death made Silco realize the importance of sacrifice. In the game Jinx Fixes Everything, we find the journal that we saw Silco writing in in the flashback. We don't know when his specific words were written, but what we know that he wrote about Felicia's courage and how much he admired her. At the bottom of the page, he wrote "Blisters and Bedrock", clearly calling back to the night she revealed her pregnancy's.

It seems that this idea of doing whatever it takes to make Zaun happen originally came from her. Or at the very least she's who inspired this idea. Silco saw Felicia's death as a testament to the type of zaunite and woman she was. She died fighting for what she believed in. She risked EVERYTHING because she wanted a better tomorrow. The bravery he saw in her before increased by tenfold when she laid down her life for the cause. This is why Silco is so upset at Vander in S1 E3.

"So you'll die for a cause, but you won't fight for one?"

Vander saw her a death as a sign that the concept of the Nation of Zaun itself was a failure, that it couldn't be done. His job as her friend was to protect her, and he failed to do that. He saw the direct consequences of her death, and he feels the need to take responsibility and clean up his mess. Especially since he knows how much Felicia wanted to protect her kids, especially since he's been around her kids. The bridge made him realize that there's nothing more important than the community they have. Without the ones they love, they are nothing. So Vander gave up the cause to look after everyone else. Which is probably why he felt the need to kill Silco when Silco insisted on pursuing the Nation of Zaun even after Felicia died due to their failure. They already lost their best friend, and for what? For a dream that didn't and can't work? But Silco would be DAMNED if he gave up on the very thing Felicia believed in, her death would not be in vain.

And so they betrayed each other. And their makeshift family was broken.

[robiinurheart33]

Soap likes it when they’re alone.

Don’t get him wrong, it’s fun when 141 are all together, the four of them kicking ass on a mission. But when it’s just two of them on a mission, it just feels.. different. Like he has Ghost all to himself. They work wonderfully together as a duo, which is probably why Price never separates them. Also probably because Gaz is his favourite, that prick. (He misses them.)

They’re currently on a stakeout, and Soap was supposed to be asleep 2 hours ago.

He’s sitting across from Ghost, dressed in his sleepwear which was a sweater and old sleeping shorts he used to wear back in secondary school. Ghost was wearing a large hoodie, some sweatpants and the mandatory balaclava. They were both sitting in front of two windows next to each other, the wooden blinds pushed open and moonlight illuminating them both. The cooling air seeps into the room, and soap breathes in deeply. He glances down towards his journal, a finger stuck between the pages, the other hand twirling the pen around. It’s quiet.

His journal is far from neat, pages sticking out waywardly and the leather ripping off from one side of the cover. Soap resists the urge to pick at it. It’s filled with notes from missions, sketches of his loved ones. Mostly sceneries of places he’s stationed at.

He looks up at Ghost staring out of the window. Soap turns his head back out the window, wondering what Ghost was specifically looking at, what he was thinking at the moment, whether he would scold soap if he said he wanted to slip out to buy some supper because he’s hungry. Soap flips back open his journal, and can feel ghost attuned to his actions, even if he wasn’t currently looking at him. Soap likes him for that. He pays attention. Soap wants to return the favour. He wants to know his ins and outs, wants to pay attention. He’s always been an attention-seeking child, which meant that most adults and classmates would ignore him. Endless nights of young dumb teenage John Mactavish sobbing into his pillow about insecurities, his future and the people around him. The things he used to do for attention, each one more drastic than the last. He can’t count the amount of times his Ma had to bail him out, the amount of stress he caused her, his dear Ma.

He likes the natural attention the army brings him, big brute having the green light to legally kill people for a living. It was liberating for a while, but eventually that too died out. At the not-so ripe age of 30-whatever, Soap learns to savour the portions of attention and praise he’s delivered, especially when he joined 141. Maybe in another universe he would be just a little easier to love, little easier to endure. It’s not something he really dwells on nowadays (lie), but he would have preferred somebody be actually interested, not just for the sake of taming him.

Soap looks back on the half-filled page of his journal, clicking open his ballpoint pen, and starts to sketch Ghost. He’s a pretty good subject, not really needing to focus a lot on anatomy since most of his face is covered anyways. He’s familiar with the strokes. He eventually gets lost in it, thoughts fading away and autopilot coming to take over the wheel, the skktch of pen on paper is repetitive and soothing to his ears. It’s the only sound between them now, the crickets and wind opting to stay out of their safe little bubble.

So when Soap looks back up again and sees Ghost looking back, he physically bristles. They lock into a strange sort of stare-off, Ghost’s eyes upturned slightly in a way Johnny knows that he found it amusing. They look at each other for about a solid ten seconds, enough time for him to memorise his blond eyelashes and his eye shape, clocking in internally on how to draw him even better, tempted to just look down and sketch them as fast as possible, so he wouldn’t forget. Ever.

“…Wha’?” Johnny’s fine with breaking first.

“You’re looking at me.”

“Astute observation, LT. Is it still night time?”

“Wha ‘ave you got for us?”

Soap covers his journal in a sort of bashful kind of way, feeling like a schoolgirl covering her diary.

“Didn’t know you got yourself a little diary.”

Soap tsks. “It’s a journal.”

“Right.” An indignant huff.

“Am’ no lying!” Soap feels heat rush to his cheeks, strangely defensive of his pride in front of his lieutenant.

“Never said you were. Drawin’ me now?” His manc accent was suddenly getting very annoying. Ghost’s eyes skirt down to his hands covering the pages, and suddenly Johnny is very aware of the skin wrapped around the muscles of his hands, down to the bone. He feels the dirt under his fingernails, the ink smudged against his fingertips and palm. He wants to turn his hands in and out, inspecting them himself to see if they’re worthy of being looked at by Ghost. Acutely aware of the sheer pressure, the weight of ghost’s attention on him, his skin gets all prickly and he wants to hide.

Is he doing that on purpose?

“Yer a good subject, never movin like a statue. It’s good for practicing my still life.” Soap’s ring finger twitches, and he knows he’s been given away.

Ghost’s eyes glint in the moonlight. His eyes are almond shaped, bigger than most. His pupils are dilated, dirt brown, like the whisky he likes to choke down. His eyelashes are long, so blonde they’re almost white. they shine so brightly soap wants to reach over and close them, just to calm his poor heart a bit. Soap wants to jab his pen into his eye. Soap knows how many strokes it takes to draw Simon’s eyes.

“…. At least get my good side, Sargent.”

“Full o’ shite, you.” he chuckles, the spell breaking as soap rests his knee up on the table and placing his journal against it. It would be a little harder to sketch ghost now, but it’ll be a cold day in hell if Ghost ever sees what he does with his journal. (Would probably be more inclined to call it a diary, old fuck.) Although, he can’t help but admit that it’s a beautiful night in this particular day. It doesn’t count that Ghost and Soap’s legs are in between each other’s under the table, just short of touching each other. It doesn’t count that Johnny pointedly ignores the way that Ghost is still looking at him from the corner of his eye. It doesn’t count that Simon allows Johnny to draw him out when he would break the neck of anyone even trying to look into his eyes too deeply.

It doesn’t count that here, in their little fake apartment with one bed, sniper gun concealed under the window, two toothbrushes side by side in a cup in the bathroom, that they allow themselves to be Simon and Johnny.

They fall back into comfortable silence, Johnny 2 hours and 30 minutes over his allotted time to sleep.

Ghost’s pov

[sage-nebula]

Mabel despises Bill, send post.

Okay, I'll say more than that.

One thing that I haven't seen people talk about (and that I've in fact seen some fan content ignore) is the fact that The Book of Bill makes it explicitly clear that Mabel Pines despises Bill Cipher as of the end of the series. I think there's a tendency to view Mabel as a bastion of love and forgiveness, and while it's true that Mabel does have a lot of love and kindness in her heart, a.) she's not actually an all-forgiving heroine (see: she never comes close to forgiving Gideon for attacking Dipper in "The Hand that Rocks the Mabel"), and b.) we're given explicit text on multiple pages in The Book of Bill that outline just how much she hates Bill and will actually do violence unto him (again) if she ever gets the chance. (Because remember, she got him in the eye with spray paint with extreme prejudice.)

We're first told about this when Bill recounts the story of how he visited Mabel's dreams days before Weirdmageddon in the hopes of making a deal. (Which, side note -- how was that possible? The unicorn hair spell was supposed to prevent that sort of thing from happening. I guess she must have been at a sleepover at Candy's or Grenda's house when this little dream jump occurred.) Bill at first gushes about how much he likes Mabel and would like to sway her to his side, but then:

"Unfortunately, her mind had Wanted posters of me everywhere -- just because I possessed her brother one time!"

Mabel wasn't a fan of Bill's even before "Sock Opera," but as of "Sock Opera" it seems that there's no chance of forgiveness from her for him. And this tracks; in "The Hand that Rocks the Mabel," Gideon treated her horribly. He pressured her into the initial date with him, and then continued to use public pressure and guilt trips in order to keep her locked into successive dates and a suffocating relationship that she couldn't escape from. He was emotionally manipulative, possessive, selfish, and cruel. Despite this, Mabel still felt bad for asking Dipper to break up with him on her behalf and initially went to the factory to apologize to Gideon, until she saw him attacking Dipper through the window. It was only at that point, when he attacked her brother, that Mabel's opinion on Gideon did a 180 and he was no longer worthy of any sympathy or forgiveness in her eyes. Regardless of how he treated her, it was hurting Dipper that Mabel could not forgive.

So it makes sense, then, that possessing Dipper would be the breaking point for Mabel with Bill, particularly considering the note that Bill left for her (and specifically for her, part of it was addressed to her) to find in the car on the way back from the play at the end, as revealed in Journal 3:

"Note to self: Possessing people is hilarious! To think of all the sensations I've been missing out on -- burning, stabbing, drowning. It's like a buffet tray of fun! Once I destroy that journal, I'll enjoy giving this body its grand finale -- by throwing it off the water tower! Best of all, people will just think Pine Tree lost his mind, and his mental form will wander in the mindscape forever. Want to join him, Shooting Star?"

(Yeah, I sure believe Bill that Mabel's a kid he likes. 😬 Maybe "likes" is more appropriate . . . even his lies are lies . . .)

So Bill possessed Dipper on purpose, threw his body down stairs, stabbed forks into his arms, poured soda into his eyes, slammed his hands in drawers, and then had planned to throw his body off a water tower, killing him in what would look like a suicide attempt. I don't think it's any wonder that after this, Bill crossed the point of no return in Mabel's mind. Bill recognizes as such by the time he's finished in her mind as well:

"That was it. She'd never make a deal with me."

It was why he had to possess Blendin in the first place and make up the lie about a way to extend the summer; because thanks to Craz and Xyler, he knew that Mabel was sad about summer ending, and that she could be tricked by someone she thought had a way of extending summer, like a time agent. Bill had to possess a known time agent, because Mabel wouldn't have believed anyone else could do it, and it had to be Blendin because Blendin wore goggles that obscured his eyes (and thanks to fighting against Bipper, Mabel knew how to look for possession eyes, and would never make a deal with Bill). Bill using Blendin to trick Mabel was calculated, and extremely so, because Mabel hates his guts because of what he did (and wanted to do) to her brother.

But it doesn't end there, because then we get to Mabel's letter. (And Dipper's as well, but mostly Mabel's.) Some might be thinking, well, if Mabel knew about Bill's backstory, she might regain some sympathy for him. However, I don't think that's the case . . . because Mabel does learn about Bill's backstory (or at least his history with Ford), and she doesn't feel sympathy for him. Ford's letter not only states that the entire family was reading the book when he exited his lab (and laughing so hard they were crying at it), but Mabel's letter in specific has her write this:

"Anyway, Bill seems to me like a super-needy ex."

We have all laughed and enjoyed this line because of how it further cements Billford as canon toxic old man yaoi, but think about what this means for a moment. This means that:

Mabel has read Bill's backstory, at least re: everything that went down between him and Ford and how heartbroken Bill was over it (she knows about O'Sadleys and the intergalactic Taco Bell incident)

She doesn't feel sympathy, in fact, she's calling him super-needy, which is insulting

Mabel isn't sympathetic toward Bill; she's patronizing. She's one step away from calling him cringe. Her "helpful tips" for how to move on are her condescending to him as she tells him to get the hell away from Ford -- and speaking of which, let's not forget that she says "if you're reading this from space or hell or wherever," indicating exactly where she thinks he very well could be. If she felt sympathetic toward him at all, knowing what she does about his past, I really doubt she'd think he'd be burning in hell.

Mabel ends her letter with this delightful gem.

"Anyway, Bill -- you tried to kill my brother. If I ever see you again, I'm doing this! [illustration of her biting him in half] Deal with it!"

There is no love for Bill Cipher in her heart. There is only a wish to sever him in half, preferably so that his precious eyeball is split in two, with her teeth.

Now, this is in her letter. But we also get some of this in Dipper's letter, too, since she interjects over there. Dipper also delivers a death threat to Bill, and Mabel comments on it. Her commentary praises Dipper's threats (and confident in making his threat):

Dipper: "Come at us again and I'll end you." Mabel: "Wow, Dipper!! So confident!!" Dipper: "Was it . . . was it too confident?" Mabel: "No, it was just right! 13 looks good on you!"

Now, again, this is mostly praising his confidence. But the "it was just right" could also apply to the threat, considering she made a very similar one herself. Many people focus on Dipper's threat to Bill, considering how cutthroat Dipper seemed toward Bill in the show (and how it was their relationship that was focused on because Dipper was the primary protagonist).

But this book has made it explicitly clear that Mabel hates Bill's flat yellow ass with her entire sparkly heart. She wants him away from her grunkle because she knows how badly he treated Ford. And she especially wants to rip him to pieces herself if she ever sees him within a 100 mile radius of her brother again. The idea that Mabel would be forgiving of, or sympathetic to, Bill because of his backstory just doesn't jive with what we know both of her character or her actual, canonical feelings toward him as of the most recent canonical material. Mabel is a loving, kind person, yes -- but she has her limits, and those limits come with those that cause serious harm to her family, just like the rest of the Pines. She's not a two-dimensional, all-forgiving heroine. She's a well-rounded character who forgives when things are forgivable, when it's warranted, when it's deserved. And it's been demonstrated that in Mabel's eyes, certain things -- like trying to cut out her brother's tongue with lamb shears, or possessing him and threatening to throw his body off a water tower -- simply aren't forgivable.

[hypnos333]

Changing Fate

Eros x Goddess reader

Synopsis: Fate had it easy for you as you were a goddess of fate until you got in the away with another’s fate

You were the daughter of Hera and Zeus, you were the third born after Ares and Hephaestus. Of course your parents adores you especially your mother. Being the goddess of Fate was easy then one, two, and three.

You were as beautiful as Aphrodite but you were no goddess of beauty.

“U-Uhm ___?” Eros called out holding your golden paged journal.

“Oh my Zeus! Thank you so much Eros” You said excitedly holding the book with delicacy. His wings flutter in shyness.

“Of course my cupid” He said back making you blush before hold the journal close to you.

“I should be calling you that Cupid” You flirted back making him blush again. He always haded feelings for you and since you lost your fate book you didn’t see that his fate now changed.

“So what should I call you? Oh! How about my love?” he asked excitedly making me agree instantly

“Whatever you like my cupid but right now I have to do my job” you said your goodbye. “Bye my love” Eros said back dreamily making you giggle as you turn back to your mansion.

You reread the journal to make sure everything was in shape in normal but it wasn’t….

See with the journal you can see everyone’s fate even gods or goddesses with Eros it holds a sparkling pink thread around his fate. It’s fading…. And not for the right reasons it should.

Eros fate is about love…

A king and queen has three daughters, all three of the girls are attractive but one of them is absolutely gorgeous- Phyche was her name. People would come all over to check out how beautiful she was. neglecting the proper worship of Aphrodite, instead prayed and made offerings to her. It was rumored that she was the second coming of Venus, or the daughter of Venus from an unseemly union between the goddess and a mortal. Venus is offended, and commissions Cupid to work her revenge. Cupid is sent to shoot Psyche with an arrow so that she may fall in love with something hideous. He instead scratches himself with his own dart, which makes any living thing fall in love with the first thing it sees. Consequently, he falls deeply in love with Psyche and disobeys his mother's order. Although her two humanly beautiful sisters have married, the idolized Psyche has yet to find love. Her father suspects that they have incurred the wrath of the gods, and consults the oracle of Apollo. The response is unsettling: the king is to expect not a human son-in-law, but rather a dragon-like creature The transported girl awakes to find herself at the edge of a cultivated grove. Exploring, she finds a marvelous house with golden columns, a carved ceiling of citrus wood and ivory, silver walls embossed with wild and domesticated animals, and jeweled mosaic floors. A disembodied voice tells her to make herself comfortable, and she is entertained at a feast that serves itself and by singing to an invisible lyre. Although fearful and without the proper experience, she allows herself to be guided to a bedroom where, in the darkness, a being she cannot see has sex with her. She gradually learns to look forward to his visits, though he always departs before sunrise and forbids her to look upon him. Soon, she becomes pregnant.

One night after Cupid falls asleep, Psyche carries out the plan her sisters devised: she brings out a dagger and a lamp she had hidden in the room, in order to see and kill the monster. But when the light instead reveals the most beautiful creature she has ever seen, she is so startled that she wounds herself on one of the arrows in Cupid's cast-aside quiver. Struck with a feverish passion, she spills hot oil from the lamp and wakes him. He flees, and though she tries to pursue, he flies away and leaves her on the bank of a river.

The rest of his fate was faded

You stood there shocked, this never happened before… this should’ve never happened. Why is it fading?

The ink was supposed to stay as it should so why is his fate changing?

You couldn’t say that you were glad his fate was changing, you were falling for the cupid after all but that did not mean he couldn’t be happy.

All she could do was watch the ink disappear like his fate was never there, and hope a new fate can appear for him. You slammed the book shut and rush to make sure Eros was safe.

When you saw him getting an apple from a tree you immediately rushed to him with a hug. Eros almost fell from the rush of someone.

“Woah My love, are you alright?” he asked gently not wanting to trigger you.

You put your hands on his cheek to make sure he has no injuries. “Of course, Are you okay?” you asked worriedly.

“Yeah? ___ we saw each other ten minutes ago, what’s wrong?” he asked making you hesitate on the question it’s self. It’s not like you can hide his dying fate from him but know something could be wrong is killing you.

“Y-Your fate changed and I couldn’t do anything about it and I thought something was wrong” You admitted making him nod.

“My fate with a human girl?” he asked making you instantly nod.

“Yeah a-and wait how did you know?” You asked making him chuckle awkwardly before clearing his throat to explain.

“W-Well I look in the journal and saw how my fate went and honestly I don’t want that to happen because ___ goddess of fate i’m in love with you” He confessed making you blush in shyness.

“W-What?” You whispered.

“I got approval from you family especially Ares and Zeus even though they’re scary as hell but I was willing to do it for you and I have been falling for you for decades but you were to busy in your work” He explained

“Well Eros of love and sex I will happily be yours” You said making him spin you around in joy.

“I’ll definitely make you the most happiest goddess in this earth my love” he stated making you hum as you leaned in as you both kissed passionately.

[museofthepyre]

CAMP HERE & THERE SWAP! AU!!!

EVERYONE GATHER ROUND I NEED TO INFODUMP. This is going to be a long post, bear with me.

In this AU (constructed alongside the lovely @cecilsrandomeverything) is a protag/ antag swap AU, wherein Sydney and Elijah swap narrative roles, and so do Jedidiah and Adam. The rest of the cast are just swapped with their obvious counterparts (Joshua/ Yvonne, Rowan/ Juniper, Fennell/ Soren, etc)… though, there is also the less obvious swapping of Warren/ Matthew, and Lucille/ the Gravediggeress.

Titles:

Elijah, "The Angel"

Sydney, "The Miracle"/ "the Black Cat Man"

Adam, "The Vivisector"

Jedidiah, "The Horologist"

Ms. Graves, "The Sentinel"

And Lucille, "The Puppeteeress"

General Plot:

Everything pre-limn is almost exactly the same. Jedidiah and Sydney live their messy little lives, until Sydney starts wilting— Jedidiah delves into dangerous unknowable ‘magic’ in attempts to save him, but it’s not working. It’s only making him worse, and his time is running out. In a desperate Hail Mary effort, Jedidiah kills and resurrects Sydney… successfully*.

Sydney wakes up in hospital, having emerged from a long coma. The first thing he sees is a figure standing over him, haloed by the bright white lights of a hospital ceiling. Sydney saw an angel… tending to him with caring and dutiful hands, guiding him back to the realm of the living. He could feel a bruise-like ache throughout his body from where death itself had gripped him. He… had died. He knew he died, and that’s all he was certain of in that moment. He’d kissed heavens gates, and still retracted his lips from the cold metal… It left the taste of copper in his mouth. But now, somehow… he was alive again. He was alive enough to look up, all milky-eyed and dreary, at the angel who awoke him. He who preformed a miracle… divinity caged within a human vessel. Sydney felt he owed this angel a debt… he knew it would only be a matter of time before his body began to fail again. A good long life was just never in the cards for him. As he stayed in hospital, barely conscious or coherent, he came to believe that his saviour would only suffer the same fate. The body is a prison, its betrayal is inevitable and indiscriminate… even the most beautiful and holy creatures are not exempt. The body is a curse, and so, Sydney knew what he had to do with his new fleeting life.

Jedidiah must have messed up the ritual. Sydney came back, yes, but he came back wrong. So, so terribly wrong… he still… looked… dead. He was clueless to his situation, all spacey and confused… his memories were scrambled and blurry, and Jedidiah saw no spark of recognition when their eyes met. Seemingly, like a newborn fawn, Sydney had imprinted onto the first thing he saw (Elijah, who in this AU is a normal nurse). Jedidiah couldn’t accept this ending. He left Sydney there in the hospital, entrusting his care to the nurses while he isolated himself to research. He threw himself deeper and deeper down the rabbithole of forbidden magic, until he was in so deep that he could no longer see the sky above. He became lost within the unknowable… he let it consume him. He’d let it transform him. Whatever the Conductor was: some spector of the astral plane, visiting dreams to share unknowable knowledge with those who sometimes recognize his form… that’s what Jedidiah became. Jedidiah A A Martin is missing, with no body to be found. His childhood room (which he had been staying in during all this) was found in-tact, showing no sign that Jedidiah had packed up to leave. On his desk were journals filled with unintelligible writing, which slowly devolved into frantic scribbles with each passing page. Soon after… Sydney went missing too! What odd timing… he seems to have up and vanished from his hospital bed at the same time that two nurses left the job.

Elijah and Adam, who’d been college roommates a few years prior— with Elijah studying nursing, and Adam studying psychiatry. They were friends in all respects… which Elijah found himself feeling lucky for. He’d always struggled to keep friends, so when someone as sociable and charming as Adam took an interest in him… he felt indebted to the kindness. Elijah (as he does in normal CHNT) struggles with mental health… he really clung to Adam, and Adam was just as eager to be there! There to listen to him vent, help him stay grounded to reality, offer up advice, and to ask questions… lots of questions. So so many questions. After a few years, Elijah found himself feeling like Adam’s personal case study rather than a friend. As if the most interesting thing he could offer was a mind so profoundly broken that it was a spectacle to observe- something to be poked and prodded at, to see how it’ll react… but that’s impossible, Adam was his friend! He’d confided so much in this person, how could he not be? Adam told him not to seek therapy elsewhere, since Adam would help him for free! And, yknow, you can trust him, he has a psych degree. When the stress of working in hospital got to be too much for Elijah, and he began to think about staying with family for a bit… Adam was quick to provide an alternative. Adam was a social guy with many strange and unusual connections, and he just so happened to have the perfect suggestion! A much less stressful nursing position, at a summer camp run by a “Ms. Graves”, whom he raved about with high regards. They could go together! Take a little break, get away from it all… and so they did.

At Time of Series:

Adam and Elijah are co-nurses at Camp Here & There, or well… Adam is more of an assistant nurse at this point. He seems utterly distracted by Elijah’s condition, poking and prodding his way into the man’s head with words like cold, sterile medical tools. Pinning him down to an inescapable sort of “friendship”, even though their relationship feels like nothing more than an artificially preserved husk. Adam is still always nice, but Elijah can never tell if it’s genuine or not. He misses when their conversations felt warm, he misses when he felt like a friend rather than a case study… or a paranoid asshole for doubting Adam’s sincerity. He puts on a cheerful face for the kids, and while some find him to be a bit *too* cheerful, they can tell he really does care. He’s well-spoken and delivers the morning announcements with a theatrical flare! Sometimes he’s a little too eager to share his feelings, but he does mean well. The kids really like him overall, they think he’s nice!

Adam is like an illusive celebrity around the camp, he’ll show up and be very energetic and engaged for a short period of time, winning the favour of all the kids with his fun fun chaos-enabling… and then he’ll disappear! Back to his office, leaving Elijah to clean up the mess he made. Nobody knows what he’s up to in that office. Last time Elijah got a peek, he saw the walls COVERED in framed pinned insects and taxidermy… and stacks of notebooks, the ones he’s always scribbling into after speaking with Elijah. Adam seems to know a lot more than he’s letting on.

Jedidiah is missing. It’s actually his college that made report of this, after he ghosted all his classes and no professors could reach him. Nobody could track down his mother either, and his father… his father had already passed. Elijah sees someone in his dreams sometimes, a dishevelled man wearing a lab coat and too many watches. His presence is accompanied by cacophonous rhythmic ticking, like multiple clocks all overlapping at different paces. He tells Elijah things he can’t know… he speaks like a frantic and incoherent madman, it’s all so bizarre. And yet, Elijah can’t help but think he looks oddly familiar.

Then there’s Sydney, who… just up and vanished from his hospital bed. Who knows where that guy is. Although there has been a mysterious figure spotted lurking around the campgrounds… draped in layers of tattered black fabric, covered in moss and mushrooms, and wearing a strange black cat mask. They’ve been caught leaving random things outside of Elijah’s bedroom in the nurses cabin… little shiny rocks, bones, pinecones… one time an entire fairy ring grew around the cabin overnight. Nobody knows what he wants, but it’s been reported that those who see him are overcome with an overwhelming existential awe… dread and wonder in equal amounts, makes you want to sob your eyes out for the universality of pain, and dance for the love of the sunlight. The only exception to this is Elijah, who upon seeing the ‘Black Cat Man’, feels a strange sense of obligation— of care and concern, for a reason he can’t pinpoint. His guard lowers and all sense of danger melts away… he feels compelled to care for this stranger, like he would a patient. A patient who can do him no harm, still and quiet in their hospital bed. Of course, the questions and red flags all come back once the Black Cat Man is out of sight... but which reality is he to trust?

Running the camp is Ms. Graves, a mysterious lady who is rarely seen or heard from. She only seems to communicate through written letters or using Adam as a proxy. She’s just a busy lady… she really is lovely to her staff!

There are also rumours floating around regarding the crawling fields beyond camp. A desolate span of colourless grasslands infested by bugs of all sorts, wherein the fabled “puppeteeress” dwells. Nobody has ever seen her, but they have seen those handsome wooden mannequins she enchants to do her bidding! They show up on the outskirts of camp quite often… their eyes may look inanimate, but you can still feel them watching!

Ok ramble over for now. I may be back with character doodles later. Also if you’ve read a suspiciously similar fic on AO3 with this exact setup, but it’s the au’s version of “the ceremony”… yes that is me :3 hello :3

[crepesuzette2023]

Your top 5 favorite Mclennon quotes?

Hi Anon, thank you for asking! The following aren't quotes I'd construct into any kind of 'proof' (whether I'm into this or not is another set of footnotes, which I'll spare you), but quotes that illustrate that John and Paul's relationship was fascinating and intense, and puzzling to themselves and others (incl. yours truly). 1.) “Meeting Paul was just like two people meeting. Not falling in love or anything. Just us. It went on. It worked.” — John Lennon - The Beatles by Hunter Davies

2.) “Lennon had attitude, and, taking his lead from Lennon, McCartney could be similar. At times, they reminded me of those well-to-do Chicago lads Leopold and Loeb, who killed someone because they felt superior to him. Lennon and McCartney were ‘superior human beings’.” — Bob Wooler in Mark Lewisohn’s Tune In

3.) “John and Paul paired off - only to find themselves stuck together for life. For John, Paul was the boy who came to stay; for Paul, John was the song he couldn’t make better” — Rob Sheffield, Dreaming The Beatles

4.) TELL ME WHO HE IS. Early song by Paul McCartney, included in The Lyrics (2021). Written in the late 50’s/early 60’s, according to the caption. (photo of journal page)

Tell me who he is Tell me that you’re mine not his He says he loves you more than I do Tell me who he is

Tell him where to go Tell him that I love you so He couldn’t love you more than I do Tell me who he is

5.) John Lennon's word association list from 1976 New York: great Elvis: fat Ringo: friend Yoko: love Howard Cosell: hum George: lost Bootlegs: good Elton: nice Paul: extraordinary Bowie: thin MBE: shit John: great

BONUS TRACK: “I had signs that the group was gonna break up, because… I mean, I think really what it was, really all that happened was that John fell in love. With Yoko. And so, with such a powerful alliance like that, it was difficult for him to still be seeing me. It was as if I was another girlfriend, almost. Our relationship was a strong relationship. And if he was to start a new relationship, he had to put this other one away."— Paul McCartney (1985), link to interview here

PLAY IT BACKWARDS: "LONDON (AP) — John Lennon wrote vitriolic comments about fellow-Beatle Paul McCartney in a picture biography of the famed pop group, providing new evidence of the tensions between them, the Observer newspaper said Sunday. [...]

"Lennon marked almost every one of the 76 pages with corrections and comments, including one that the Observer took as an indication the group already was experimenting with drugs in the 1960s. [...]

"In an entry noting McCartney’s marriage to Linda Eastman, Lennon crossed out “wedding” and wrote “funeral”, the Observer said. [...]

"But in a final tender moment, the Observer said, Lennon wrote under a photo of himself with McCartney: “The minutes are crumbling away.” (full article.)

[cb-works13]

SO ABOUT THE PARALLEL DIMENSIONS

(Book of Bill spoilers, btw) On the page where Bill explains that the Pines Twins only got lucky because it was the one timeline where they were successful- I started looking into these different "fates" and several of them stuck out to me:

Mabel could've become the gnome queen due to Dipper thinking he was being too paranoid about protecting her sister and didn't look back through the video footage (thus not going out to try to save Mabel at all).

Dipper could've gotten killed by Gideon's scissors due to Mabel not showing up to the warehouse to break up with Gideon herself.

If Mabel was selfish about her sock opera, both Bipper and Babel (Bill-Mabel) existing could've happened.

If Dipper and Mabel never set aside their argument about Mabel being taller than Dipper, they probably would've stayed shrunken.

Dipper and Mabel fighting over the time tape measure throughout time could've easily ended with one of them being lost in a specific time before they both could travel to the next one, leaving them stranded and separated across time.

We know Mabel wanted to forget about her summer romances, but based on the conversation Dipper overheard between his parents, he probably had something he wanted out of his head too. If either one of them were left alone with the memory eraser, they could've easily fallen down that rabbit hole.

Some of the ideas I wrote might be off from what actually happened in the show (I don't remember all of them perfectly), but hear me out for the rest of this.

Notice how nearly NONE of the Parallel Twins are working together to reach the Original Twins. The only exceptions I see are the Shrunk Twins and the Weirdmegedeon Twins (but they kinda get a free pass because they're frozen together). Everyone else is fighting, climbing, using each other as step ladders, etc.

"Look at them. These two plucky little protagonists, happily-ever-after-ing without a care in their oversized heads!"

Of course the Original Twins don't have a care- the only care they cared about at the end of the day was their sibling.

To me, at least, there is a very good chance that what saved Dipper and Mabel the most was the fact that they always had each other's backs. I mean, just look at the Original Twins. They're leaning against each other to sleep. They trust the other to hold them up. They feel safe around the other. They saved each other countless times. They worked to maintain a good relationship.

"This journal told me there was no one in Gravity Falls I could trust. But when you battle a hundred gnomes side-by-side with someone, you realize that they've probably always got your back."

[mossy-bonez]

He so I have been thinking about gravity falls for obvious reasons, and I was rereading the lost journal pages that are in tbob and I just realized that in a tale of two stans, when ford tells Stan to go as far away from him as possible, instead of going with him he was also trying to protect him from bill, because and spoilers if you haven’t read it

Bill is absolutely still going into his body and fucking shit up, hurting him, messing up his reputation in town, the works, and I don’t doubt that if Ford were to have gone with Stan or tried to stay with him, or anyone else for that matter(you know rely on them have a good relationship with them), that bill would have tried to kill them when Ford fell asleep, so that he would have nothing and no one but him(he’d have to talk to bill eventually if he had no one else, is what I think the thought process would be). All of this is what has caused me to see that moment in an even more heartbreaking and tragic light

[devilishly-stupid]

Book of Bill thoughts:

I literally did whatever he told me, I licked the book

I wasn't expecting the Journal 3 lost pages to have billford IMMEDIATELY start flirting

Imagine one day the dude that lives in a cabin in the wood hits town and starts acting like a lunatic, slaps a cop in the belly and then dips. That's why nobody thought Stan was acting weird when he replaced Ford

Additionally, AU where Stan answers Bill's terrifying "I'm gonna kill myself I never loved you bye" call

I saw the spread with all the Pines' ghosts but I found a small drawing of them just lying in a pool of their blood in the plan section much creepier

[aritsukemo]

Paradise | Chapter Three - Sabito and Makomo | KNY

Summary: Sakonji Urokodaki's grueling training begins!

Warnings: Nothing much. Tanjiro, Y/n, and Sumiko are in pain for the majority of this chapter.

A/N: Here's chapter three that's been sitting in my drafts for like two to three months now! This is my first time doing a first pov so I hope my lack of expertise doesn't show too much!😅 I'm going to re-remind everyone once the next chapter comes out, but chapter four will be posted alongside the first oc profile! You'll only be able to read it over on Wattpad, but I hope everyone goes to give it a quick read whenever I post it! :D

Tagging: @overluvsick, @nursedflowers, @jspidey5 + anyone who wants to be tagged! <3

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Third Person Pov

Crickets and other noisy bugs converse loudly during the night. Tanjiro sits at a small table, a singular lamp by his side as his soft hand holds a brush—which bristles already stained in ink and are coloring symbols into the once clean sheet. The brush glides across the page until it comes to an abrupt stop and  goes back to the start, hovering over the next clean area of the paper. Tanjiro looks behind his shoulder. Nezuko sleeps peacefully on the futon behind him. Y/n sits propped up against the wall with one of her legs kicked up, her eyes closed, and silent snoring coming from her in steady breaths. Sumiko leans against her, also fast asleep.

Guess it's finally time to get some rest. After all, his first day of training begins tommorow.

Closing the book, the light shines on the book cover. It displays in big symbols and clean, black ink, "Journal" with his full name written in smaller characters below that. Tanjiro's hands leave the book at last after spending his final free day writing for hours without end..

First Person, Tanjiro's Pov

 "The Demon Slayer Corps has around several hundred members. It's an organization unrecognized by the government, yet it has existed since ancient times and continue to hunt demons today. As for the one leading the Demon Slayer Crops, however, that remains a mystery."

 "Demons. They mercilessly kill and feed on humans and their flesh. No one has a clue where or when they first appeared. Their physical prowess is remarkable. Wounds heal in the blink of an eye. Flesh is restored no matter what damage comes to it and limbs that are hacked off can easily regenerate. Some demons can shapeshift, others have otherwordly powers. The only ways to kill these heinous creatures are via sunlight or decapitation with a special sword."

 "The Demon Slayers battle demons with their mortal bodies. Since they're only human, they're wounds are slow to heal, and once lost, their limbs never grow back! Even so, they continue to selflessly fight to protect other humans!" Those were the first words Mr. Urokodaki spoke to us when our training to become demon slayer swordmen first began. As he was explaining everything, I couldn't help but look at her from the corner of my eye.

Y/n's face hid everything from me like an iron wall. Her scent opened a window for me to peer into, but whenever it did, it always left me puzzled. It always contradicted her in some way and that fact worries me.

I want to ask her so many questions. About these contradicting feelings, about her past that she for some reason refuses to tell.. I want to have a heart to heart with her like a brother and sister would..

But now's not the time for questions. For now, I need to focus on becoming a demon slayer so that I can start finding a cure to turn Nezuko back into a human!

 "I am a trainer. I literally train swordsmen," Urokodaki said to us that early morning, "There are many trainers like me all over Japan, and each of them train their pupils with their own regimen in their location."

 "To join the Demon Slayer Corps, you must survive the Final Selection process held on Mt. Fujikasane. Whether or not you're eligible for Final Selection is up to me," He explained. I remember thinking at the time, "Simple enough."

How naive I was..

 Starting today, I'm going to keep a journal for Nezuko.

 I'm decending the mountain again today. I'm going to train my hardest so that I don't die during Final Selection!

 After repeatedly descending the mountain, day after day, I'm starting to learn how to avoid most of the traps. I've become stronger and I'm even more adept at detecting scents than before. Even so..the traps are getting more and more difficult. At this point, I'm starting to believe he's actually trying to kill us! I nearly fell into a hidden pit of knives today..

 Despite the increase in difficulty, I seem to be the only one struggling to keep up. Y/n and Sumiko have cleared the mountain a couple times without problems. At first, Sumiko would trigger traps left and right fearlessly and would just narrowly dodge them. She really worried me for a while, but after some scolding from Mr. Urokodaki, she started trying to dodge them at last. I'm relieved that he stepped in before she got seriously injured.

 As for Y/n, she seems to be on a whole different level! She's quick on her feet—quicker than both me and Sumiko—and her natural senses manage to keep her from triggering most of the traps on the mountain. In only half a day, she had already managed to make it up and down the mountain three times! Seriously, how does she do that?

I run down the mountain as fast as I my legs can take me and leap over an oncoming rope. As soon as I planted my feet back onto the ground, a log comes swinging right at me! I barely dodged it and stumbled a bit. Because of that, I nearly triggered a trap..

Mr. Urokodaki's scent hits my nostrils and leads a clear trail to the next trap ahead. Knives fly from the trees and I find myself stopping to look. My heart skips as I swing my body out of the way, just bsrely dodging as the knives dig into the tree behind me.

My legs felt like jelly and I wobbled right into an obvious trap. I nearly twist my ankle catching myself before I fell completely into the hole—thank goodness for that, because under me were sharp knives, threatening to cut me open with even the slightest touch.

I gasped out in horror without realizing. But really, is a pit of knives really necessary?

As this was happening, Y/n and Sumiko shoot past me. Y/n is ahead, her face still like a stone as she hopped over ropes and other traps without so much as pausing for a breath. Sumiko mimcks her, taking wide leaps over everything until her foot steps down on her demise. A snap is heard and I suddenly see her dangling in the air by her foot.

 "Ah, Sumiko!" I manage to maneuver myself out of the way of the hole and crawl to my feet. I jog up to my little sister in need only to realize that the rope was just out of my reach. Oh no.

In the end, I accidentally triggered a trap trying to help her down and got myself stuck as well. Mr. Urokodaki had to cut us down and we both got a scolding for our slip ups..

 I made my descent down the mountain again today, sword in hand, but it really hampered my movements. I can't stop getting ensnared by traps! Sumiko seems to be having as much trouble as I am, if not worse. Her sense of balance has been thrown off entirely and she can't seem to dodge even the simplest of traps..

 Y/n started only a few days before we did, but she's already gotten the hang of her sword. She truly is amazing!

I run down the mountain, large sword hanging heavy on my hip and Sumiko by my side, and we simultaneously hop over a rope tied low to the ground. Urokodaki watches us in silence, arms crossed. And, although I can't see his face because of the mask, I know he's judging our every move.

Each trap I hop over, Sumiko lags behind, just barely being able to mimick my movements. She leaps after me, but she doesn't make it high enough to avoid a rope. I hear intense ruffling along with a small yelp and look over my shoulder to see that Sumiko's gone and there's a large pit where she used to stand.

 "Sumiko!" I find myself sliding to a stop, "Don't worry, I'll—" And then another snap echoes throughout the forest; a warning that I didn't process fast enough to heed. I fall back, but I wasn't even able to hit the ground before I'm snatched into the air..

We were kept stuck in our traps until Y/n finished her descent through the mountain. What makes things worse is that when Mr. Urokodaki cut me down, I fell right on my head..

 I swing my sword today. Well, it's not just today. After descending the mountain, I, along with Y/n and Sumiko, swing our swords until our arms nearly fall off. We do this every day.

 "Nine hundred ninety-one.. Nine hundred ninety-two..!" Numbers were shouted out in unison by all three of us as we stood side by side in a clearing at in the mountain. The evening glow shines down on us and our blades which causes them to gleam every time we swing downwards.

Every inch of my arm throbs with each tense of my muscles that are caused when I swing my sword. I've been clenching my teeth for so long that I'm scared they'll shatter if I don't ease up, but how am I supposed to do that? Even though they're beginning to numb over, my arms hurt so badly!

But at last, I can finally rest, "One thousand!" We all finally yell out, but immediately after we said that, Urokodaki gruffly follows up with his own shouting, "Five hundred more!" He told us.

And just as that demand reached my ears, I felt my tired soul completely shatter into pieces..

 "Swords break easily," That's what he told us beforehand. Though it's strong vertically, it's weak horizontally, so you need to apply the force straight along the blade. The blade's direction and the direction in which you apply force must be exactly the same. And that's when Urokodaki added, "If you ever damage the blade, in other words, break it, I'll snap your bones as well," in a very threatening tone of voice. Just thinking about it, makes me nervous all over again..

 Today, we did nothing but fall. We started training to break our falls and get up quickly from any position.

 We wield our swords, charging at Mr. Urokodaki, really trying to kill him. In contrast, Mr. Urokodaki is bare-handed and unarmed. Even so, he's ridiculously powerful! He flings me away and I roll on the ground every time..

 Even someone like Y/n seems to struggle when up against Mr. Urokodaki. She starts off good, getting up faster than me and Sumiko and manages to get a few swings in. None of them ever hit him, however, and in the end, she's always flung away just like me.

 Sumiko seems to have it the worse since she tends to charge at him with the intent on fighting bare-handed. Her sword gets in her way and she's always flipped or tossed away quicker than either of us. Every time it happens, my heart skips a beat thinking she'll accidentally land on her sword and hurt herself..

We stand before Mr. Urokodaki, swords in hand. I merely blink and in an instant, my world is flipped upside down! ..Literally. Before I even had the time to process that my feet were no longer planted on the ground, my face was already sliding against the gravel and my nose was already being invaded by the strong, muddy smell of the dirt that I had begun to grow used to.

As I crack my eyes open again, I spot Y/n running towards Mr. Urokodaki. She had already managed to regain her senses after the temprorary lapse and got up. How does she do that?

With her face scrunched in conentration, she charges forward and swings her blade when she's close enough. She immediately follows up with an upward slash attack after her intial strike misses. The movements of her swings are sharp, but I get the sense of aggression towards the tail end of every single strike. It's passive-aggressive which contrasts Mr. Urokodaki, who's movements are pretty lax as he dodges the majority of her swings by simply moving out of the way of her blade.

That relaxed air around his being leaves him for a mere moment as he goes on the offense. He suddenly charges forward and Y/n immediately raises her sword. She swings downwards with the intent of landing a singular strike, but he sidesteps her attack and I find myself having to tense and squint my eyes as to not miss Mr. Urokodaki's next movements. While she's still focused on her previous attack, Mr. Urokodaki steps behind her and lands a kick to the back of one of her knees which causes them to fold. She falls on one knee and Mr. Urokodaki waste no time in kicking her in the side and sending her tumbling away.

Both me and Sumiko get up at the same time, but I attack first. I run as fast as I can, mouth open and yelling as I hold my sword above my head..

And in less than a second, my view of the world was flipped upside down again and spinning like a wheel. I couldn't feel the ground anymore either which made it finally dawn on me what just happened; Mr. Urokodaki had flipped me into the air and the momentum of his throw had me rolling midair!

The revelation hits at the same time that I hit the ground. I land right on my chest which knocks the majority of the air outta my lungs in a loud gusp. Quickly after that, I hear light groans that signal Sumiko's defeat.

 "Again!" I hear Mr. Urokodaki demand and I catch myself groaning softly as I peel myself off the gravel. I don't know how long I can take being tossed around like this..

 Today, we learned breathing techniques and some forms. We'd get yelled at for not bracing our stomachs and clobbered to a plup..

 "Total Concentration breathing?" I questioned, my head instinctively tilting to the side a little.

 "That's right," Urokodaki said, "And I'm going to teach you three all ten of the Water Breathing forms."

 "Remember to take a long breath so the oxygen flows into every cell in your body," He told us, "This will enhance your body's natural healing power, and both stabilize and energize your spirit."

 "Relax your upper body.." He instructs and we do as he tells us to the best of our abilities, all of our shoulders' slumping, "..while bracing your lower half," I tense up my legs and feet. Y/n and Sumiko do the same.

 "All right, now breathe!" My head tilts back, and at a turtle's pace, I suck in as much air as I can. I exhale just as slowly, my whole body slumping..and then, bam! My eyes shoot open as pain shoots through my entire body and spit is propelled from my mouth and shot out in all directions.

Mr. Urokodaki had smacked me in the stomach and it felt horrible!

To try and ease the pain, my body curls into itself. I'm hunched over, shaking with my arms wrapped around my stomach and my knees bending when I hear Mr. Urokodaki yell, "Wrong!" And I hear groans. I guess Y/n and Sumiko had met a smiliar, painful fate.

 "Next! Forms!" Mr. Urokodaki shouts and we have no choice but to straighten back up. He didn't give us much to go off of, but I was determined and struck a pose anyways.

 "Right! Like this?" I ask, "Wrong!" He yells. And so, I snap into a different pose.

 "Like this?" I ask again only for him to repeat, "Wrong!" I change poses once again and promptly ignore the sideway looks of confusion, dissaproval, and embarrassment I get from my sisters—the latter two more apparent in the look Y/n gives me; the former one more accurately represented in Sumiko's dot-eyed expression—and yell out, "This?"

In an instant Mr. Urokodaki had popped me in the stomach once, then twice, then a third time, and unfortunately a fourth, fifth, and sixth which elicited a loud, whiny moan from me.

 After that, he told us to become one with the water.

We stood fairly high up on one of the ledges near the mountain we descend every morning as a warm up. Before us was a large waterfall that was so noisy that we struggled to hear each other despite standing side by side with one another. It loudly flowed it's abundance of water down to the bottom, which I couldn't really see all that well due to the constant stream blending together and crashing down producing a light steam at the bottom from the sheer coldness of the water..

And then, our demise rings out in the form of Mr. Urokodaki's voice, "What are you waiting for? Get in there!" And we're suddenly kicked off. Off instinct, I try to run away from my fate, but all it does is prolong the inevitable until gravity finally hits me and I go falling along with Y/n and Sumiko.

My stomach flutters in an uneasy sorta way at the airy feeling of falling from such a high vantage point. I scream, going to call out for the first person that pops into my head, "Nezuko..!" I drawl until I finally hit the water with a loud splash!

After a moment of floating along the stream, we all manage to pick ourselves up and huddle under the waterfall. As the heavy water comes relentlessly crashing down onto us, we stay firmly planted with our hands mashed together as if we were praying.

 "Nezuko..!" I find myself yelling, my voice being carried in the wind. Echoing and bouncing off the rushing waterfall, "I...! ..Am...! ..Water..!"

My constant yelling must've really irked Y/n, because after a while, she shouted at me, her voice strained but angry, "Could you..! Shut up..! ..For one second..?"

 As of now, it's been six months since Nezuko was last awake. Mr. Urokodaki summoned a doctor right away and had him examine her, but he found nothing wrong.

 But it's not normal for her to stay asleep like this.. I'm scared. Scared that one morning, I'll wake up to find her dead. Not a day goes by that I don't worry..

 Sumiko had begun staying up later and later at night. I think she's also worried about that possibility and it's causing her to fear sleeping. I try to soothe her nerves as best I can, but I fail to do much.. At least she seems to be getting along with Mr. Urokodaki well. I sometimes catch them talking late at night when they assume everyone's asleep. I have no idea what their talks could be about, but soon after their late night talks began, Mr. Urokodaki had started supplying her with books. She tends to stay up all night reading them now and it got to the point where catching her fast asleep, face first in a book was a common sight we all saw of her in the mornings.

 Whenever we talk about Nezuko, Y/n's face scrunches and she always says that it's only a matter of time. It upsets me badly to hear that she has no faith in Nezuko ever awaking up again, but now that I think on it, this is probably her way of coping with the situation herself. I think she's trying to be overly pessimistic in case of the worst happening so that she doesn't fall apart. Looking back on it, she acted like that for a while when dad's health started to decline and he was bedridden..

 My descents are getting more dangerous and the air's even thinner since we've started descending from a higher point in the mountain. Time and time again, I think I might die, but at the same time, I've felt that, not just I, but all three of us have gotten stronger! Under Mr. Urokodaki's steady, stern guidance, we've all grown and I was sure at the time that we'd reach unspeakable heights with his help! ..And then it happened.. }

 "As of today, I have nothing more to teach you. The rest is up to you!"

 A year after we arrived at Mt. Sagiri, he told me that all of a sudden after I descended the mountain. I remember that initial feeling of surprise that struck me followed quickly by fear. After all, when he said that, it was just me there. I was the last out of the three of us to make it down the mountain. My first assumption was that this was some kind of punishment because of my own shortcomings, but then he told me to follow him. We walked for a long while—long enough for the air around us to grow colder and the snow to finally start falling—before we finally made it to a wide clearing with..a boulder in the center of it..

I found myself staring on in awe. Before me, was the largest boulder I had ever seen in my life. It was taller than both me and Mr. Urokodaki and wide to boot! That being said, it was surprising to see that a rope with long shide attached to it was wrapped all the way around it.

 "If you can slice this boulder, I will allow you to enter Final Selection," Mr. Urokodaki said after a while of my gawking. Without blinking, my eyes glide over to look at him and I only move my head a little to gaze at him for a moment before my head slid back in place and my eyes found itself on the large rock again.

I found myself thinking, "Is a boulder, especially on so big..even capable of being sliced with a sword? ..I don't think I can.." I barely noticed it, but my hand had made it's way to wrap around my sheathed katana, just under the hilt, "My sword will snap, no question!"

During my silent distress, Mr. Urokodaki stayed just as silent. Without any advice or tips or instructions, he turned on his heel and began walking away from me, "Mr. Urokodaki, please wait! ..Mr. Urokodaki!" I called his name again and again, but he just kept walking without turning back or saying anything to acknowledge my calls, leaving me alone with the tough boulder and the soft snow falling around me.. 

 After that, Mr. Urokodaki never taught me anything again. Not just me, he apparently did the same thing to Sumiko and Y/n, taking them to one of the many designated clearings in the mountain and giving them the same task before leaving. That thought comforted me a little knowing that I wasn't alone in this.

 Every day after that, I practiced what Mr. Urokodaki taught us over and over by myself. I was able to go over the basics like holding my breath and flexibility without trouble thanks to the notes I'd written down in this journal. But, even after six months had passed, I still couldn't slice the boulder. I felt frustrated. I wasn't training hard enough and it showed every single day I failed..

 But, just when the despair of the situation started to set in, he appeared..

A loud clank rang, echoing my failure throughout the area. I stood there with my sword laid against the boulder after having smacked my blade against the thick rock. My head hung low under the evening's bright, yellow glow and I huffed softly, unable to catch my breath.

 "Am I hopeless?" The thought stained my mind like ink on paper. It spread, inviting similar thoughts into my head until it plagued my brain entirely.

 "Have Y/n and Sumiko already sliced their boulders in half? Will they go on to become demon slayers without me?"

 "Is Nezuko going to die without ever waking up?"

Those thoughts made me anxious which made it hard to shake them away easily. They were dark, like black paint and had smeared itself all over and made it hard to think of anything else aside from this heavy feeling that had already begun to sink to the bottom of my gut; that depressing feeling of self-dissatisfaction.

But I can't give up! I've spent all this time training! It can't all be for nothing! I won't allow it to all be for nothing! This is for Nezuko!

Using those small pebbles of determination, I clench my teeth, move my sword out of the way, and headbutt the boulder. All while yelling words of encouragement into the air.

 "Keep working, Tanjiro!" I told myself, "You can do it! You have to!" And then landed another headbutt to the boulder. That seemed to anger it, because after that second headbutt, it screamed at me, "Shut up!"

..Wait, that wasn't the boulder. Looking up, my eyes immediately lock on a fox mask and I feel my brows scrunching from confusion. Sitting atop the boulder with his leg kicked up, was a kid seemingly around my age. His pink hair reminded me of a ripe peach and blended well with our surroundings, which were colored in orange and yellow to match the sky above. That said, his kimono top and calf leggings were covered in clashing, bright, yellow and green shapes that had me racking my brain from how familiar the pattern was.

 "A man shouldn't whine. It's unseemly," His voice caught me off guard because of how much deeper it was compared to my own. However, it wasn't gruff like Mr. Urokodaki's and still held this certain smoothness of youth that kept me from thinking he was older than me.

His sudden appearance raised questions that temporarily shushed the loud, disheartening thoughts screaming and running amok in my head. There was no scent to him which formed some of my biggest questions. Never in my life have I never been able to catch the scent of someone. Never.

 "No matter how much your suffer, a man should always bear it in silence," He got to his feet, and that finally made me take notice of the wooden sword in his hand, "That is, if you call yourself a man," And with that, he gracefully lept into the air. His plain, white haori raised, floating in the wind just like his hair. It distracted me, and because of that distraction, I wasn't able to process the shift in the air when he flipped. If it wasn't for my instincts, I would've also missed the raising of his wooden sword before it was brought down onto me with a sudden force.

His blade clanged against my metal hilt and before I was able to take in the fact that he was suddenly attacking me, the boy landed another attack on me. This time twisting to land a kick to my chin that had me flying back and landing on my head.

 "Slow. Weak. Immature. None of those are qualities of a man," He said and I found myself growing angry. Not because of his petty insult, but because of the fact that he attacked me without reason.

 "What are you doing?" I asked him only for him to mimic me and ask, "I'd like to know what you think you're doing."

 "What do you mean? I'm training," I told him, but he replied with a mean, "Hardly."

 "Now, how long do you plan to sit on your butt and not take a stance?" I don't know why, but when he said that, my body immediately moved. The authority in his tone was terrifyingly familiar so maybe that was the reason.

In so many ways..he reminds me of Mr. Urokodaki. I guess that's why my body jumped to do as he said.

He raises his hand and gestures me closer, "Come on. Come at me," He said, but I found myself hesitating.

 "But I have a real sword and you don't! What if you get hurt?" The question made him pause. I thought that was because it finally dawned on him how crazy he sounded for suggesting me to attack him wih an actual sword, but that didn't seem to be the case. Instead, his shoulders—no, his entire body shook and he threw his head back, laughing as if I had said the funniest joke in the world.

 "Well aren't you considerate! Thank you for worrying about me," He said, but the way he said it didn't sound the least bit grateful. He then said, "So, you think you're actually going to injure me?" And then he was suddenly in front of me. I stepped back on instinct with my blade raised halfway—a good move on my part, because he immediately brought his blade down on me and I was fast enough to meet him the rest of the way and block him.

He was strong. Even though he was fighting me with a wooden, practice sword, I still found my body shaking, quivering under the power he's putting against my actual sword. I remember it shocked me along with his next words, "Well, you have absolutely nothing to worry about!" He so confidently said to me, "I'm far more powerful than you! After all, I've already sliced my boulder!"

Those words echoed in my ears as they were slowly injested. He..sliced a boulder? The thought shocked me as much as it sparked hope in me. The fact that it's not impossible made a tiny weight lift off my heart.

But I had no time to dwell in that feeling, because the masked boy jumped into the air. As dust kicked up where he previously stood, I found my eyes closing—an almost deadly mistake. I was lucky enough that time to feel the shift in the wind. I turn at the last second, just fast enough to throw my sword up to block the boy's incoming attack from above. It didn't faze him at all. He jumped back and immediately jumped into the air again.

His speed was incredible. I could just barely catch the aftermath of his jumps as he zipped around me. I could only assume that he would touch the ground whenever he passed a tree because I could never catch him touching the ground. It was almost as if he was flying and it left me looking around like a chicken without its head.

Then suddenly, he was right beside me. I was able to see him at last, but him being right at my shoulder didn't process fast enough. In the end, all I had time to do was turn my head to look at him—with a look that probably told everything I was thinking in that moment—before the thunder of my first defeat was sounded and I was suddenly on the floor, my face and body stinging and shaking a little..

 "You've learned nothing," He stood behind me, totally composed aside from his voice that sounded pretty upset, kinda like Urokodaki when he used to scold me for my mistakes, "You haven't mastered a single thing! Certainly not the breathing technique taught by Mr. Urokodaki; Total Concentration Breathing!"

That caught my attention most out of everything else he said. It made waves of confusion and surprise wash over me and temporarily redirected me from the pain he inflicted on me, "He knew Mr Urokodaki? The breathing technique too?" Were the questions that intially surfaced, but his identity is still on the top of my list of questions for him.

As I turned my body to face him and sat up, he continued, "All you did was memorize it as fact!" He lifts his sword and points it at me, "Your body has no clue what it needs to do!"

 "Just what the hell were you doing for a whole year and a half?" The question rang out extra loud just as his sword clanged against my steel, "You need to slam it into your flesh!" He shouted as he broke away as did I only to immediately clash our blades again.

 "More!" As he picked up speed, I tried to do the same, trying my hardest to replicate his movements. Thankfully, I was just fast enough that his blade met mine continuously instead of my battered skin, "More!" I took the defensive, staying strong as he slammed and hammered his blade against mine in a quick succession, "More!" A particularly strong hit sends me back but I plant my feet into the ground and manage to still myself before he closes the distance and I was forced to go on the offensive once again, "So that you become the embodiment of what Mr. Urokodaki taught you!"

He sends me back again and I recover quick enough to watch him ready his next attack and swing it at me, all while screaming at me, "Pound it all into the marrow of your bones!" 

 "I'm trying!" I found myself crying out the next time our blades met, "Every single day! I'm trying with everything I got!"

 "..But I'm not making any headway!" As my own words sunk in like a rock falling to the bottom of a lake, I found my voice slowly cracking apart just as my resolve has been these past six months, and I finally admitted aloud, "I just can't go any further!"

Despite that all he did was tell me as he lunged at me, "Don't 'try', just do it! If you're a man.." And then he quickly landed his attack on me, smacking me in the chest. I clench my teeth as the striking pain begun to spread and my feet left the ground for just a moment before they're forced back down as he harshly slammed his sword down onto my arm, "..If you call yourself a man!" And just as I raised my sword to attack him back, he spins and his sword hits my chest again, but at an angle this time.

 "There's no other way to go but forward!" I stumbled back, my feet uncomfortably light which made me tip and sway in different directions. The boy followed after me as if he was chasing down a fleeing wild animal. Our blades clashed again and he shouted, "Bring it on!"

 "Show me what you're capable of!" He swings at me, but this time I'm quick enough to completely jump out of the way. His words had an extra surge of adrenline shoot through me and I found my mouth falling open and letting out a loud scream of my own. No words, just a strong yell that came from the core of my chest—from the depths of my heart—where all my pent up frustration resided.

But then I miss my swing and my second defeat is sounded in an instant. It's painful, moreso physically as I watched his arm swing up and I felt his wooden sword collide with my chin. It was an extra powerful swing, one that had me flying several inches off the ground when it hit me. My entire jaw immediately numbed over in a desperate attempt to soothe the searing pain that shot through it and up my cheeks.

And then, suddenly all I could feel was that pain as my vision slowly faded. I had passed out, but what made matters worse was that I hadn't even hit the floor before everything went black..

The next time I opened my eyes, I was met with the sight of the crescent moon peaking through cracks made by thin clouds. All the pain in my face had dulled aside from my chin which stung like a bad bee sting. Everything around me had a blue-tinted screen over it that matched sky, signalling that nighttime had arrived. My eyes widen at the realization.

 "Are you alright?" A voice asked. It was soothing to my ears, kinda like putting a cool cloth on a bad bruise. It was nothing like his voice.

I shot up, immediately turning my head to be met face to face with eyes that match the night sky above. Despite her sudden presence, the only question I asked her was, "Did you see that?" She tilted her head, signalling to me her confusion but I continued regardless, my eyes blown wide.

 "That was an incredible blow! Not a single bit of unwasted motion! It was beautiful!" I praised. It really was amazing and my words could hardly explain it in a way that gave it proper justice which is probably why I started moving my hands and shaking my head to further exaggerate my point.

Now that I look back on that moment, I probably looked really silly to her.

 "I want to become a swordsman like that!" I exclaimed and then I asked her, "Do you think I can become like him?" And I watch as her lips widen into a smile. One without a hint of underlying doubt or hidden skepticism. It was a completely pure and trusting smile that she gave me as she spoke in a soft voice.

 "I'm sure you can..since I'll be looking after you from now on," She told me. And it was only then, when her thick eyelashes fluttered and her eyes closed, and that pure, trusting smile of hers widened that I realized just how pretty the girl before me was..

But who was she? It was then that it dawned on me that I didn't even ask. And so, with my cheeks tingly and warm and my heavy jaw having my bottom lip hung low, I mumbled out, "Who are you?"

 That night, she told me her name, Makomo, as well the name of the boy I sparred with, Sabito.

 Makomo points out the defects in my style. Throughout countless days, she corrected my unnecessary movements and my bad habits.. I found myself wondering, why? Why is she doing this for me? Where did she come from? I once asked her, but she didn't tell me anything. Something in me refrained me from asking the others about her or Sabito..

 Speaking of which, Makomo often said, "We love Mr. Urokodaki very much." It was her favorite phrase. She said that Sabito and her weren't siblings and that Mr. Urokodaki raised them after they'd been orphaned.

 "They're other children besides us. They're always around, watching you, Tanjiro," was something she said to me once. You see, I've come to realize that Makomo is a bit of a strange girl. Her way of speaking is abstract and dreamy and she says things in a weird way..

 "See, Total Concentration Breathing accelerates your blood circulation and your heart rate. That causes your temperature to shoot up and makes you strong like a demon despite still being human," She explained, "You expand your lungs and bring lots of air into your blood and when it gets excited, your bones and muscles scurry to heat up and grow stronger!"

 "..Huh?" Was all I could say, my face twisted into a puzzled expression. Maybe it was the words she used to explain it, but I didn't understand the majority of what she said. And so, I asked her, "How can I do that?"

And she looked at me with that kind, angelic smile and told me in the nicest voice ever, "Train to death. At the end of the day, I don't think there's anything else you can do."

 I swung my sword over and over so hard until my arms and legs felt like they were going to fall off.. Until my lungs were ready to burst into flames, I did that for so long..but even then, I just couldn't beat Sabito.

 I would train hard under Makomo's gentle guidance until it felt like I was going to just kneel over and die on the spot, but he still always got the better of me. It was only until six months later, and six months after Y/n cut her boulder, when the snow coated every speck of grass and every wilting tree in sight..

I stood before Sabito once again. The sun was out, but you wouldn't be able to tell by looking due to the thick clouds that covered it and made snow fall in all ways and directions. The wind was icy against my dirtied skin—colder than when I first stood before him and the boulder—but I didn't flinch even when it blew so strong that my hair flailed it's grown out lengths wildly.

 When I challenged him that day, Sabito was wielding a real sword..

 "After six months, finally, you have the look of a man," I watched his movements as he gripped the scabbard and used his other hand to grab ahold of the hilt. The eerie sound of the steel sliding out didn't scare me and neither did the sight of his blade gleaming under the dim lighting as it was pulled out and pointed at me.

I had long pulled my sword from it's scabbard and gotten into my stance, my brows creasing downwards and scrunched into my dirt-covered skin, "Today's the day I win!"

 The head-on battle was simple. Who ever was stronger and faster wins.

My mouth opens as wide as a small crack—just wide enough for air to enter my mouth. Slowly, I breathe in. My chest steadily rises as my lungs swell with air. I then close my mouth, my grip tightening on the hilt of my katana..and dash forward at the same time Sabito does.

 The battle was over in an instant..

We immediately found ourselves closing the gap. Both of our swords were raised the entire time, and it was in that fraction of a second that I swung down with all my might..

 On that day, in that moment, for the first time, my blade reached Sabito first.

With a hollow clack, his mask split and fell on either side of him, suspended on the sides of his neck by that thick, red rope that was tied to it. His face..didn't match anything I had pictured originally. His eyes were a foggy purple and gentle like the falling snow around us. It contrasted that peach pink hair of his which barely covered the sides of his face so I saw that large, spiky scar that hiked up at an angle and covered the majority of his otherwise smooth skin. And his smile.. That smile that he gave me as his brows scrunched together..was so full of relief.

 That moment I won, Sabito smiled. It seemed like a sad smile to me at the time, but looking back on it, it seemed more proud and reassuring than somber..

 "Tanjiro.." I was so encaptured by him and that smile of his that it took Makomo's gentle voice to pull me back down to earth which, seemed much foggier than when I left it a mere moment ago. I find myself blinking, as if what I was seeing was an illusion or hallucination, but the thick fog never disappeared.

 "You did great," Her praise is what made me finally turn my head her way. Her body was steadily disappearing in the fog and I found myself looking on in silence, at a loss for words for what I was witnessing..

 The next thing I knew, Sabito and Makomo were gone..

 "Don't forget what you just did and win against them, okay? Beat that guy too," And she was gone, disappearing into the shrouding fog as if she was never there to begin with..

 ..And my sword, which I was sure had slashed Sabito's mask..

I turn my head back, but Sabito was gone too. Leaving me to gaze at the thick fog and watching as it slowly cleared away into nothing. Sabito and Makomo were still nowhere to be found, but that wasn't what made my eyes widen. What made my eyes grow wide like a bug's was the fact that I was gazing through a rocky opening  just narrow enough that only my blade could slip through.

 ..had sliced the boulder in half.

Y/n Kamado | *Arms crossed* So, you actually managed to do it..

Tanjiro Kamado | *Smiles with hands on his hips* Yeah! I was shocked, too! I never imagined I'd be able to cut a boulder like that! I couldn't have done it without Sabito and Makomo. I can't thank them enough.

Y/n Kamado | ..Who are they?

Tanjiro Kamado | *Speechless by his own slip up*

Y/n Kamado | ..Well? Who are—

Tanjiro Kamado | *Panicked* Uh- Now, It's time for a Taisho Era Secret!

Y/n Kamado | Wait, you haven't answered my—

Tanjiro Kamado | *Leans in and whispers* Why does Mr. Urokodaki wear a mask? I heard that's because demons used to make fun of him for looking too kind.

Y/n Kamado | *Visibly irked* Hey! Don't ignore me! Answer—!

Tanjiro Kamado | Everyone, we'll continue working hard to find a cure for Nezuko! And Ms. Ari, I hope that you make a full recovery soon!

Y/n Kamado | Who the hell is that? And who are you talking to—

Tanjiro Kamado | Next time, chapter four, "Final Selection"! Bye everyone! *Runs away*

Y/n Kamado | Tanjiro..! Get your ass back here and answer me! *Runs after him*

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx