#and so it goes by billy joel will be the death of me

[jimmyspades]

"I think it’s good to live life as though it were a finite thing. Because it is. I appreciate today. And tomorrow I’ll wake up, and there’ll be another day to savor. And after it I’ll go to bed and I’ll wake and there’ll be another. And another. And another." BOSTON LEGAL 4.10 "Green Christmas"

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 41, part three

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Brotherhood of Man

Somehow, after the multi-layered shit sandwich of betrayal that happened in Nightless City, Lan Xichen manages to convince his two besties to swear brotherhood with him and each other. Lan Xichen's Polyamory 101 class apparently didn't tell him that forcing a vee to become a three-for-all is a bad idea. Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao are bonded by only two things: 1. loving Lan Xichen 2. hating each other.

Nie Mingjue is great at letting bygones be bygones, as we can tell as he glares all the way through Jin Guangyao's skull.

Next we jump to Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao playing the song of clarity for Nie Mingjue, with Lan Xichen in a particularly sexy set of ultra-fancy robes.

NMJ keeps his eyes shut so he won't have to see the extreme eye fucking that's going on right in front of his salad.

Check out his cool candle holders, by the way.

I can't help but think...is this how Lan Xichen is spending his time while Lan Wangji is in forced seclusion? Lan Xichen didn't attack any elders, so there's no reason he shouldn't be enjoying himself, but he's gone all in on the fuckboy life while his brother is seriously struggling. The Lan brothers seem a lot less close after Wei Wuxian's death interlude and I wonder if this is part of the reason.

(More behind the cut!)

We take a tiny break from empathy during this section so that Lan Wangji can check Wei Wuxian's qi.

He does, and goes to play healing for him. He does not react like WWX is lacking a core, despite doing the magic wrist check that would tip him off if that were the case, so I add this to the pile of evidence that WWX 2.0 does have a (shitty) core in his new body.

I like this little scene because Lan Wangji is clearly worried, emotional, upset - he's doing his little sour-lemon frown and he's intensely focused on Wei Wuxian while he plays healing - but he's not trying to wake him, and he doesn't say anything about his own concerns once Wei Wuxian is awake.

Grown-up Lan Wangji is still not a fan of these unorthodox cultivation activities, but he respects WWX's choices and focuses on supporting him, not stopping him.

Play Misty For Me

Next, empathy shows us Jin Guangyao playing for Nie Mingjue in a 1-on-1 session in JinLintai. I guess this is like dialysis, where Nie Mingjue has to waste a shit ton of time going back and forth between home and JinLinTai to get cleansed.

It seems like Lan Xichen could have picked a better person to train in playing the song of clarity. I know Nie Huaisang's wussy core might make him a poor candidate, but surely there's someone in Qinghe who could do the job? Or send a series of Lan disciples in an exchange student arrangement? But Lan Xichen would rather force these guys to hang out together.

Lan Xichen may seem like he's being wilfully blind, or plain stupid, but I don't think that's what he's about. He's aware that both of these guys are, from a certain point of view, bad people. Nie Mingjue is driven by rage and a rigid sense of justice and social hierarchy; Jin Guangyao is consumed with self-interest and will use any means to achieve his ends.

Good guys Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji will also use any means to achieve their ends - attacking elders, raising the dead, and whatnot. What all four of these not-Lan Xichen people have in common is that they go to extremes, too high or too low, there ain't no in-betweens.

Out of the darkness, into the light Leaving the scene of the crime Either I'm wrong or I'm perfectly right Every time

Sorry, but Billy Joel is part of my cultural heritage as a Gen X person.

Lan Xichen embodies a combination of Confucian and Buddhist values, I think; he wants the people he cares about to chill the fuck out and find the middle way, and also to be truly brotherly toward each other. He tries to achieve this through gentle nagging and also by modeling the behavior he wants to see, creating opportunities for peace and balance. Unfortunately at the time Empathy is showing us, he's unware how extreme and unbalanced his own feelings for Jin Guangyao really are.

At some point, Jin Guangyao starts playing the altered version of the music, and we have a series of kind of weird cuts where 1. the Song of Fuck You is playing on the soundtrack while Lan Xichen is teaching Jin Guangyao 2. NMJ starts to hork up some blood in the 1-on-1 session but finishes horking in the trio session. I think this is meant to show that it was a progression.

Meet Me Outside

Empathy jumps ahead to Lan Xichen trying to warn Jin Guangyao about Nie Mingjue's declining temperament, saying that if it wasn't for JGY playing for him every day, it would be super bad, or words to that effect. He is interrupted by Nie Mingjue showing up to yell at Jin Guangyao. Was Nie Mingjue eavesdropping so that his head could recall this later in Empathy?

I'm inclined to see the dynamic among the three of them at this point through a lens of domestic violence. Lan Xichen stands by helplessly while Nie Mingjue makes it clear that he's in a rage and wants to take it out on Jin Guangyao; JGY calmly tells Lan Xichen to stay behind while he goes outside to take a beating. That's not just optics; Nie Mingjue attacks him the moment they're alone. The fact that NMJ is drunk on resentment is only partly the fault of Jin Guangyao's musical poison; a lot of it is his own choice to do saber cultivation.

Lan Xichen may remember similar interactions with his parents. He's certainly having a trauma reaction instead of stepping into this situation from a place of strength. He's protected Jin Guangyao from NMJ before without any difficulty, but the changes in NMJ's temperament and possibly the loss of Lan Wangji's companionship have put him in a weaker state of mind, it seems. And he himself may have been the target of Nie Mingjue's anger at times, too.

The Ragening

After dodging the first swing from Nie Mingjue, Jin Guangyao asks him why he's mad. The gist of NMJ's beef is this: Xue Yang escaped from the unclean realm. NMJ (correctly) blames JGY. Now Xue Yang is imprisoned by Jin Guangshan after a trial or something, in which Chang Ping retracted his earlier accusation. So they can't execute Xue Yang because there's no evidence against him. (Why can they imprison him for life with no evidence, then? Seems sketchy).

Nie Mingjue says that Xue Yang has a piece of Yin metal, and that's why Jin Guangshan is keeping him alive. JGY doesn't affirm or deny this, but he has to obey his dad, so he can't kill Xue Yang just to please Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue tells him to stop doing that thing he does.

You Doing that thing you do Breakin' my heart into a million pieces Like you always do And you Don't mean to be cruel You never even knew about the heartache I've been going through

Jin Guangyao has to intuit what Nie Mingjue is talking about, which is apparently that JGY is being calculating and manipulative.

He proceeds to rip NMJ a new one for believing that everyone can be as rigteous as him when he has his noble birth and high cultivation to depend on. JGY points out that he himself doesn't have early cultivation training or a good family background to draw on. He also gives us a little bit of specific info about his position in the clan, saying that Jin Zixuan's death didn't give him a clear path; Jin Guangshan would rather bring back another bastard son than allow Jin Guangyao to succeed him.

Presumably he's talking about Mo Xuanyu. Before you feel sorry for JGY, remember that he caused Jin Zixuan's death specifically so he could claim his place in the line of succession.

Nie Mingjue says, dismissively, that he's only refusing to kill Xue Yang because he doesn't want to risk his position in the clan. Nie Mingjue says this like it's a bad thing: like Jin Guangyao, who he fired quite a while ago and totally doesn't work for him, should go against his father's express orders and kill a guy, without evidence, because Nie Mingjue thinks that would be more righteous. I gotta say, Nie Mingjue is a real piece of work.

Nie Mingjue acknowledges that he himself has killed a fuckton of people, but never for his own advancement. Jin Guangyao challenges him with words that have a little flavor of Wei Wuxian's way of thinking: did everyone you've killed deserve it? Are your standards fair?

Then he heads firmly back into villain territory by saying "sacrifices must be made for greatness" which has Nie Mingjue asking why he doesn't sacrifice himself, instead of killing other people? (Shades of WWX challenging Wen Zhuliu) Jin Guangyao replies with an emphatic nope, which inspires Nie Mingjue to kick him down the stairs and attribute his poor character to his mom's line of work, for not the first time. If I was in charge of Jinlintai, I would put a safety gate up there.

The bottom of these stairs is kind of an important place for Jin Guangyao; he's been kicked down them twice (that we know of) and each time he stood up 100% ready to kill the guy at the top of the stairs. Although he took a super long time to actually do it in the case of his dad, I'm pretty sure JGS's fate was sealed in that moment....just like Nie Mingjue's is sealed here.

Side note: In the show, JGY starts musically poisoning NMJ while they are still ostensibly getting along fine, whereas in the book he waits until NMJ has kicked him down the stairs and insulted his mom. CQL Jin Guangyao is just more forward-thinking, I guess.

After fixing his hat, Jin Guangyao walks up the stairs calmly explaining to Nie Mingjue how he fucked with the song of cleansing. This causes Nie Mingjue to qi deviate while the Department of Questionable Visual Effects messes around with extra copies of Jin Guangyao in AfterFX.

Not to be outdone, the Department of Questionable Practical Effects has loaded up the front of Nie Mingjue's torso with exploding blood squibs, because apparently that is how they interpret "all his meridians were broken." (We won't talk about the various non-cultivation-aware translations that say "all his veins were broken.")

Nie Huaisang shows up - running up all of the steps at Jinlintai. From where? Did he run from Qinghe? How did he know Nie Mingjue was in trouble? If Lan Xichen told him, why isn't he here too? Presumably he is still busy checking the guest list for the next conference, per JGY's request.

Jin Guangyao grabs Nie Huaisang and holds him out of harms way while vigorously pretending to be upset while Nie Mingjue points his saber at them. Nie Huaisang interprets this as NMJ not recognizing him (and if you've seen Fatal Journey, you know this is a fair interpretation) but it might be that he's pointing it at JGY to encourage him to let NHS go.

This Is The End

Next we see NMJ all tied up on a table in Jinlintai, with corpse poisoning marks on his neck. Someday I will learn exactly when these happen, what they mean, and how everyone who has them gets them, but today is not that day. (Remember when Wen Qing got them while WWX was playing angry flute at the rocks behind Qinghe, and then they went away when he stopped playing? And how this was never explained?) Xue Yang is walking around him with Baxia and half of the yin tiger seal. He can't control him without the whole seal so JGY says to kill him.

In case all of Xue Yang's behavior seems super random, it's actually not; his project is turning high-level cultivators into controllable fierce corpses. Where Wei Wuxian controlled his fierce corpse Wen Ning with kindness and turnips, Xue Yang uses fancy brain nails. With Nie Mingjue, he presumably hadn't developed the technique yet, which is why they can't subdue him to use him. And he failed to get the nails into Xiao Xingchen or Wei Wuxian's heads. So basically the entire project was a bust, given that he didn't deploy Wen Ning for anything, and Song Lan just followed him around an empty town. This is what happens when you get too attached to a particular creative vision.

Camera Operator: hey now!

Xue Yang uses Baxia to chop Nie Mingjue's head off, which has to piss Baxia off. Xue Yang says Nie Mingjue is finally obedient, which is only sort of true, since he'll be coming back for revenge in sword-spirit form in the live action, or in naked dismembered corpse form in every other version of the story.

Friendly Neighborhood Paperman

This murder causes Wei Wuxian to snap out of empathy back into his paperman body, and accidentally pull NMJ's head's eye covers off, revealing eyes that don't look a goddamn thing like actor Wang Yizhou's eyes, but this head has had a rough few years.

Jin Guangyao is right there in the storeroom with him; it's a good thing he didn't think to have one of his chats with NMJ's head during the 30 minutes WWX spent communing with it. He chases Paperman around slashing his sword through the furniture and knocking shit over.

Among JGY's many evil traits, perhaps the worst is the way he wastes storage space. Look at all these shelves with 2 or 3 books on them.

Paperman makes his way over to Suibian where it's displayed on a shelf, and hops onto its hilt while JGY watches. He smirks at WWX's failure to draw the sword, but eventually Paper WWX does draw it, surprising JGY. Suibian fights him remotely for a bit while WWX gets away and makes his way back to Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji trade arm clasps while Wei Wuxian gives him a sitrep, and then they run off to find Nie Mingjue's head.

Because there is no limit to Wei Wuxian's sex appeal, Lan Wangji instantly beats up everyone who gets in his sweetie's way. Lan Xichen shows up, a little alarmed at the attacks on the guards but still on board with their plan.

Lan Xichen deploys his most dramatic stair-climbing flourish to show that he means business.

Eventually Jin Guangyao shows up, and they ask to see his secret chamber. Jin Guangyao tries to explain that it's not, like, a secret chamber any more if you let people come in and look at it.

Apparently there IS a limit to Jin Guangyao's sex appeal, because Lan Xichen puts his foot down for the very first time and tells him, not asks him, to open the room.

...while Wei Wuxian smirks like a kid whose sibling is the one getting yelled at for a change.

Before Jin Guangyao can answer, Su She shows up, saying it's not cool to demand entry to a clan leader's bed chamber, as if Lan Xichen didn't have his own embroidered bathrobe alredy hanging on a hook in there.

Lan Wangji and Su She greet each other nastily, and Wei Wuxian calls him out for copying Lan Wangji, which ends the episode.

Soundtrack: I Go To Extremes by Billy Joel, That Thing You Do from the movie That Thing You Do

Bonus: Liu Haikuan's beautiful hand

[ash5monster01]

Turnstiles

Chapter Four - I’ve Loved These Days 🎶

Pairing: Steve Harrington x FemReader

Warnings: fluff, language, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of death, abandonment issues, slight sadness.

Summary: You and Steve get your first place together and even if it isn’t glamorous, it’s good enough for the both of you as you leave the old days behind.

word count: 2.6k

Three ←→ Five

Masterlist

Summer 1988

We hide our hearts from harder times

There were so many boxes. It seemed to be a never ending pile from the back of the moving truck, one neither of you could really afford but needed. Even with Dustin and Robin helping carry each new box in, it seemed every time you returned to the truck there was just as many if not more. You couldn’t help the soft sigh that escaped your lips as you looked at the very daunting pile that you knew would take you more than likely a month to finally put all in place.

“Don’t tell me we’re giving up already” that familiar sultry voice whispered in your ear, arms snaking around your waist from behind.

“Not giving up, just trying to gain the courage” you tell him, a small smirk tugging at the corners of your lips. You knew as much as Steve would try to help he would also play with everything he unpacked before actually putting it away, making the process much longer than it needed to be.

“It’s not that bad” Steve said with a soft shake of his head, small tufts of hair falling loose from the action.

“Yes it is, you packed every trophy you have ever earned in your entire life” you tell him, pointing to the large box labeled ‘Steve’s Achievements’.

“Hey I earned those, I can’t just throw them out” Steve pouts as you break out of his arms, doing your best attempt at climbing up into the truck to grab another box.

“I know handsome, I just have to tease” you say leaning down and he’s happy to bring his pouty lips to yours and leave a quick kiss. As much as you teased, you had felt bad. When Steve announced to his parents you were officially getting a place together they decided to put the house up for sale since they were never there anyways. As much as Steve didn’t have a great childhood it was still the only home he had ever known. You knew it took a toll on him and forced him to pack every single one of his belongings instead of the necessities.

“Hey dingus, why are we the only ones carrying shit?” Robin called out as she stepped out the doors of the small apartment, spotting you juggling a new box while Steve lingered at the back of the truck.

“I need my rest Robin, if Rosy’s shit wasn’t so heavy” he called back and you shot him a quick glare which made him laugh softly.

“You’re an idiot” Robin mumbled as you handed her the box in your arms and picked up a new one.

“What the hell Steve! Why are the girls the only one’s carrying your shit?” Dustin called out, exiting the home as well and you and Robin quickly erupt in giggles as Steve groans out.

“I don’t have a box in my arms for two seconds and I get harassed. What the hell is this?” Steve says mostly to himself, jumping up into the truck much easier than you did and you watch as he goes for one of the small boxes.

“Uh-uh mister. You’re bringing that one in” you say, nodding your head to the trophy box and Steve rolls his eyes before doing what he was told.

“God you’re so whipped” Robin snorts before starting back for the apartment ready to unload the boxes as fast as she can.

“I’m not whipped!” he called out quickly in defense but Dustin just laughed and grabbed a box for himself.

“It’s okay Stevie, you’re allowed to be whipped. I definitely am for you” you tell him sweetly and he grins, the oddly large trophy box now in his arms.

“I love you” he hums out, leaning and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips before hopping out of the truck. Your heart flutters due to the sentiment, never getting tired of the words he finally spoke a year and a half ago. Well actually wrote but ever since then he told you every chance he got and you loved it every time.

It had been over three years since you met Steve Harrington and you were pretty sure you’d never get tired of him. He came to you when you needed him most and you did the same for him. Since that day you hadn’t spent a day apart and making this decision, deciding to live together, after years of working and saving money, you had no regrets at all. This was it, he was your soulmate and this was only the beginning of a lifetime of years ahead. Small apartment or not, he was yours and that alone was a breath of relief.

“Need an invitation?” Robin called to you from the small house and you just chuckled before grabbing your things and making your way to the house. A house that would probably hold you and Steve for another few years, be your shelter from the storm, and despite its empty walls and bare floors, you couldn’t wait to make it a home.

It’s dusk by the time all the boxes are unloaded into your home and Robin and Dustin are long gone. Just looking at the mess you know you’re too tired to face it until tomorrow, so you make do with what you have. You make quick work of making a bed of the mattress on the floor, saving the frame building for tomorrow. When it looks decent enough to sleep on you make your way out of your room to find Steve. Much to your surprise he’s in the living room, boxes now cleared off the coffee table, and take out from the local diner on the table.

“I made dinner” he grins at you, sitting on the ground as he pours you a glass of wine in a mug. You giggle at the thought of it being the only thing he could find and join him on the floor.

“What’s this for?” you curiously ask, taking the mug from his hand and smiling at the food and candle he had set up.

“This is to taking our time. The last few years have felt like a race to the finish line and we finally made it” he says, recalling all the long hours and savings account expenses. Had it not been for the alternator going in Steve’s BMW you would’ve been here much sooner but at least you were here.

“Cheers to that” you say, clinking the mug against his own before taking a sip. Steve just smiles and looks to the simple plate of food. He loved that you both could live your lives so nonchalant, spend your nights living a luxurious lifestyle even if it’s just a small apartment.

“The money comes, the money goes, but we finally made it baby” he tells you and you quickly kiss him before grabbing the wrapped burger that your stomach grumbles for. Not realizing how hungry you were after a whole day of moving.

His words wash a sense of comfort over you. Knowing now you could spend your days a bit more relaxed, eat dinner in silk robes and light lamps for atmosphere. Even if the apartment was a passing phase in the start of the rest of your life you were both going long. Hanging hopes on chandeliers while gaining weight and sleeping in late. You had loved those days before living together but it was time to change your ways and love these new days. The days meant for just the two of you before something more comes along, something bigger.

“Did your parents say when they’re selling the house?” you ask around a bite of your burger, trying to get a better read on him and how he feels.

“By the end of the month, Dad says if I need anything to get it by then” he mutters, heart clenching over the fact. He hated that empty house, despised it, but these last few years it wasn’t really empty.

“I’m sorry honey” you tell him, wiping your face with a napkin and he shrugs.

“It’s okay, I was meant to move out sometime. Just wish it was still somewhat mine, you know? They were never there so much it sorta always felt like it did. Then when I started spending time with the kids and you there, I guess I just always imagined I’d stay there, raise my kids, teach em how to swim in the pool and how to ride their bike in the driveway. Make it more of a home then it ever was to me” Steve explains, eyes cast over the table and lost in a memory that hadn’t happened yet. Your heart instantly softens to the boy, hand reaching out to settle in his own just like you did when you first met.

“I’m sorry Stevie, but just think about how we can make those memories in our own home. A home we’ll grow old in and our kids can visit whenever and bring their kids with them” you tell him and Steve can’t help the small grin that cracks along his face at the sentiment.

“Is this you saying it’s you and I forever Rosy?” he inquires, devious eyes glimmering into your own and you laugh, cheeks flushing red.

“Well I’d say moving in together kinda deals the deal” you tell him and Steve grins before reaching over to grab your waist. Much to your surprise he lifts you effortlessly over and into his lap where his face nuzzles into your neck.

“Then it’s you and me forever, I promise” he tells you, warm breath tickling your skin. Now you both could indulge in things refined and hide your hearts from the harder times.

This marked the start of drowning your doubts in dry champagne and dreaming of your future. A future that if you dreamed hard enough could include real pearls, foreign cars, caviar and cabernet wine. Yet the real riches was a future with each other, a future that included kids and endless memories to be shared. You didn’t really care if you only ever lived in this apartment, the boy curled up next to you was the real dream.

“Another toast” you say, reaching for your mug and handing Steve his own. He follows right along, the bright red liquid sloshing up the side. This was something you wanted to say before the old versions of yourself end and the new ones begin.

“A toast to how it’s been and to all the new things we get to love. Including each other” you say and Steve happily clinks the mug against your own as you both tip back the sweet wine since Steve hated dry.

“I’ve loved these days and I’ll love the new ones too” Steve mutters into your neck and you smile and settle against him, finally relishing in the fact you were both sat in your shared living room. A space you and Steve could share while you got big wig jobs and engaged. A space designed for the both of you to grow as a couple who was meant to last forever.

“You think we’ll get tired of each other?” you voice your worries, knowing now that you shared such close quarters you were bound to find flaws within one another.

“Maybe but I’ll always love you more, and isn’t that how it’s supposed to work?” he asks, voice a soft hum into the late night of the barren home. You had a lot of work ahead of you but at this very moment you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

“I guess so” you smile, a softness twisting in your gut at how in love you are with this man beside you.

“Wait! I have an idea!” Steve suddenly says, sliding you delicately off his lap and to the ground. He’s up in a second, eyeing the labels of each of the boxes in search of something you’re not sure of. You watch with curiosity, waiting to see what the boy could possibly be up to now.

“Ah-ha!” he lets out once he finds what his looking for, large hands pulling back the folded cardboard pieces and digging inside. It’s when the familiar flash of silver is revealed you realize he’s in search of his boombox.

Finding the outlet Steve makes work of prepping the stereo for some mood music. It’s no surprise when the familiar flash of a Billy Joel album is pulled from the bottom of the box. He grumbled only slightly when he realized he needs to rewind the tape, smashing the button with an annoyed scowl. Yet when the tape finally spins back to the beginning, a grin covers his lips instead, as a familiar song starts to fill the room. Say Goodbye to Hollywood, the classic beginning of Billy’s 1976 album Turnstiles. A true testament to his talent, and one of Steve’s favorites.

“Dance with me?” he asks, hand held down to you on the ground and you don’t even hesitate to clasp your own with his, allowing him to lift you up and into his arms before spinning you around the room.

“Tell me something good?” you ask him, heart thumping softly against his own as you both sway around the living room, the barren walls soon to hold a lifetime of memories.

“The first time I heard this song I was spending the night at my Grandparents. I was nine and we were all in the kitchen making cookies. I remember my Grandma smelling like fresh flowers and the way my Grandpas laugh made you feel safe. Turnstiles had just come out, Billy’s latest album and Grandpa knew I hadn’t heard it yet. So he played the vinyl while I frosted cookies and this song began to play. Now every time I hear it I’m back in that kitchen just happy to have two people who really loved me” Steve says, a soft sadness cast over his eyes and you can’t stop yourself from pulling him close and leaving a soft kiss on his lips.

“I really would’ve liked to meet them” you whisper, hand curling at the back of his neck and fingers grazing the small tufts of hair there. He smiles and gives a soft squeeze to your waist, pulling you impossibly closer.

“They would’ve loved you. My Grandpa would point out how smart you are, tease me about it too. Ask how I got a girl like you to date a doofus like me. And my Grandma, she would bake you pies and insist on sewing all your clothes when they got old and worn. Talk about how much she wished she had a granddaughter” Steve says like he knows and it’s because he does. They were the two people in his life who always made him feel safe and he knew them better than anyone. It sucked they weren’t here but knowing how much they would’ve loved you is comfort enough.

“I see them in you. In the way you take care of the kids and in the way you love me” you say and the look he gives you is different than any look you have ever received. Your heart accelerates just at the sight and before you can even process it the boy is kissing you like his life depends on it.

“I’m going to love these days too” he suddenly says, pulling back from the kiss a little breathless. A small laugh escapes your lips as he hugs you close.

“Yeah, well I count on having many of them”

Taglist: @slvtforstve @keerygal @goosy-goose @livsters @blckburd @loveshotzz @ohwauwdoritos @superblysubpar @southereads @amataadriana @violet2022 @mxrcjqckspnchqsc @madaboutjoe @thunderstomp-and-tequila @justdamnpeachy @micheledawn1975 @fangfatale @kingstevesgf @notlilyyyy @eddiesguitarskills @palmtreesx3 @momospeaches47 @pbs-theundeadmaggot @xuimhao @lianna75 @lvjmel @sadbitchfangirl @halflifejess @starkleila @ellharrington @avobabe87

Comment if you want to be added to the taglist :))

[starryeyedcas]

Every Destiel Fic I’ve Ever Read [WIP]

Let’s do it! I took this list directly from my twitter

I’m not really going to post my ratings and stuff and I’m not going to copy what I said verbatim because as I grow older my opinions always change and every fic deserves love regardless of what some stranger on the internet thinks! Check these out if you need something new to read :)

Also, side note: A lot of the fics I tend to read are either non-canon or pre S10. If your looking for canon type, recent fics this will not be a list for you and I apologize :(

Also pt. 2: Some of the fics that I have listed on my twitter are no longer available so I have decided to not list them here. It’s very sad because there were some really good ones! Regardless, I’m still trying to keep this list as up to date as I possibly can when it comes to my reading ventures. Either way, I hope you enjoy these fics as much as I do <3

1. NINETY ONE WHISKEY

By komodobits, 401,193 words (not counting other fics in the series)

Please, please, please! Read this if you haven’t yet!! It’s a slow burn, World War II based fic and it’s my absolute favorite fic of all time. In fact I think it may be my favorite story of all time!! I come back to this fic always. If I’m sad, I read it. If I’m happy, I read it. I’ve read it probably 4 or 5 times at this point and it always holds up. I will say though, IT WILL MAKE YOU CRY. Dean and Cas are written VERY well, in fact every character in this fic are written to perfection. You find yourself growing attachments to side characters that you may have even forgotten existed in the show. I seriously cannot recommend this one enough. You will not regret it.

2. A BRIEF GLIMPSE

By cloudyjenn, 12,356 words

I’ll be honest, this one is special for me. This was the very first Destiel fic I ever read back in 2014. That being said, I may be a little biased towards it but I do genuinely think that it’s very cute. It’s a Slice-of-Life esque story with light supernatural happenings; where Castiel is in high school and has a very big crush on his best friend, Sam Winchester. Things start to go awry when Sam invites Cas to a carnival. I won’t spoil too much though! If you want a quick read with some fluff, definitely read this one.

3. SMELLS LIKE ROSES

By unknown :(, 53,828 words

Uhoh! A Djinn fic! I remember this one just hurting me so much. Dean is living his dream life. Everything around him is perfect and he’s mysteriously very happy. When you get to the end of this fic, holy cow the heartbreak. It’s written very well, you obviously can’t go wrong with a fic that slightly follows canon. I really like this one and I might reread it again soon but I cannot stress enough how much it hurts! Stay safe out there.

4. NOT ALL THE WAY THROUGH

By Tracy, around 4,700 words

Shorter fic based around s5 episodes 3 and 4. This one is good but it’s also very painful. I think I like fics that hurt me lol. There are some warnings I want to state! This fic features substance abuse, non con, mentions of torture and A CHARACTER DEATH so please be careful! This is told through Castiel’s perspective and all the summary says is “Castiel’s new life begins and ends with Dean.” So I will leave it at that. (Also as a side note whenever I think of this fic I think of the song ‘And So it Goes’ by Billy Joel. Listen to that while reading and you are sure to shed some tears. Stay safe friends xx)

5. PAINTED ANGELS

By WinnJennster, 105,637 words

This one used to be really popular, so it’s likely many of you have already read it. Either way I will still recommend it. It’s a nice little “reunited” type fic in which Cas is an author and Dean is a painter. I will say, however, that the angst in this fic is HEAVY. Personally, I’m not huge into giant angsty fics like this, or maybe the type of angst portrayed in this one. I just remember feeling a little frustrated by it. YET, this fic has a lot of good memorable moments with some fluff sprinkled throughout. If you love angst, this is the fic for you. WARNING though, you need an AO3 account to read this fic. If you’re not already logged in, you’re out of luck.

6. TWIST AND SHOUT

By Gabriel and standbyme, 97,556 words

Who are we kidding?? Everyone on this website KNOWS this fic. You all could probably recount it backwards, forwards, sideways, upside down. Who knows. All we know is that this fic is a capital S-A-D. When I was in high school, I LOVED this fic. I adored it, no matter how much it made me cry. Because YES there is a MAJOR CHARACTER DEATH. And NO it’s not FUN. Can I be honest? After rereading it, I feel as if Cas and Dean are out of character! Doesn’t mean it’s a bad story, absolutely not. It’s beautiful! I think it’s wonderful and obviously I recommend it. But you could change the names of the boys and you wouldn’t even know its based off two characters from Supernatural. This is my hill and I will gladly die on it. Read it if you dare, but remember to beware OOooOOoooOo (another side note: I had to go to the fic to get the link for this post and I swear to God my eyes watered when I read that first sentence. I HATE and I LOVE this fic all at the same time.)

7. SMOKE IN THE MIRROR

By letters_of_stars, 52,327 words

Oh shoot! Dean is an artist and he needs a nude model!! Who do you think is gonna take the bait?!?! In all seriousness though, I really adore this one. YES Castiel is nude and YES Dean is painting him but if you’re expecting smut right from the get go you are mistaken! I wanna say this is another slow burn?? But it has also been a while since I’ve read it. I just remember liking this one a lot. In my original rating, I gave it a 5/5 so that’s gotta mean something. Another little slice of life with a lot of good moments. Check it out!

8. A HOME BENEATH THE STARS

By CheshireMoon, 71,240 words

Hi, it’s me again. The girl who likes fics that rip her heart to SHREDS. I’m gonna be about as vague as can about this one because boy did that ending catch me off guard when I first read it. So Dean is homeless, right? And Cas is a kind hearted, Good Samaritan, astronomer. When the two meet Dean’s life changes… for the better… I’m gonna leave it at that. You could be ignorant like me and skip over the warnings to this fic and just leave it to good will and faith that this fic will leave you happy and giggly. Or you could do yourself a favor and know what’s coming but not know when it happens. Either way, I still recommend this one. I really like it, just make sure you have a fluff fest fic waiting for you on the other side.

9. THE FACE OF HEAVEN

By orange_crushed, 9,772 words

This one is short and so so sweet. Another type of slice-of-life where Dean is just a gay bartender living his best gay bartending life when he suddenly comes across a fallen star whose name is Castiel. It’s very unique and I love it so much. In my original opinion of this fic I said I didn’t like the formatting? And I think what I meant to say is, I don’t like reading long paragraphs but the formatting to this fic is perfectly fine lol. Still a fun little read and it’s pretty fluffy!

10. SO MUCH TANGLED THREAD

By imogenbynight, 37,428 words

Holy crap! Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES. It’s like, Ninety One Whiskey almost, except there’s time travel, and supernatural happenings, and OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS FIC. It’s ends pretty quick but it’s still so so so good. Please read it, show it some love. I think about this one from time to time and I still smile. Much like with Painted Angels, you need an account to read this one. So make sure you’re logged in! If you don’t have an account you best get that invitation fr.

11. DIAMOND STAR HALO

By had, 4,924 words

Just pure fluff told from Sam Winchester’s perspective. I kind of have a soft spot for fics told from a third party perspective because it’s like they’re seeing Dean and Cas how WE see Dean and Cas and it makes me all giddy, I dunno. This is a good short read and you should definitely read it after reading something really sad and heart wrenching!

12. CINDERWINGS

By bendingsignpost, 181,619 words

STOP!! I love this fic!! It’s a Cinderella type story, there’s a masquerade ball, Dean is a PRINCE. Very fantasy with supernatural elements. It’s WONDERFUL. The way the author writes about the world through Castiel’s perspective is super entertaining and funny and I love the misunderstandings that happen within the story. If you love fantasy and monarchy and magic and parties, this is definitely a fic for you.

13. ONE WHITE LIE

By komodobits, 11.179 words

I can’t lie, komodobits is my favorite fic author and so I am a little biased towards their stories. This one is no exception. It’s hilarious, lighthearted, and fluffy. The range that this author has with their fics amazes and horrifies me. How can one person have that much talent? I have no idea. This is just a komodobits appreciation post, you got me. Anywho, Castiel tells a small lie to the Winchester brothers and they mess with him. Not based in canon, a very slice-of-life fic. I love it, please check it out.

14. FORGET-ME-NOT BLUES

By noangelsinthegarrison, 68,689 words

Ahhh I remember this one. Another slice-of-life, have you noticed a pattern? Sam and Jess are getting married! Woohoo! Of course Dean is in the wedding but so is Castiel, someone Dean has history with……….. Basically there’s misunderstandings and mutual pining and it’s fun. It’s got all sorts of romcom elements with just a dash of angst!

15. MUSCLE MEMORY

By komodobits, 18,961 words

Give me a story that’s loosely based off of 50 First Dates and written by my favorite fic author and suddenly I’m in Heaven. I’m a really big fan of movie AU’s, especially well written and this one is no exception. It’s kind of sad though, but if you’ve seen 50 First Dates then you should expect that. Even if you aren’t a fan of movie AU’s, I would still suggest giving this one a read.

16. KIND OF A FOREVER DEAL

By komodobits, 111,460 words

STOP LOOKING AT ME. YOU THINK IM PUTTING TOO MANY FICS BY THE SAME AUTHOR HERE? WELL YOU LISTEN TO ME PAL, THIS WON’T BE THE LAST ONE EITHER!! Ahem, this fic is awesome and sort of a fan favorite already!! Slice-of-life, teenaged angst, summer camp, LoVe, it’s amazing! The way that the author wrote the friendship between Dean, Cas, Jo, and Victor has me in tears. Very wholesome and heart wrenching, highly recommend!

17. IMPERFECT PROPOSALS

By Fallen_Angel_Meg, 111,082 words

Another movie AU! This is loosely based off The Proposal and filled with fluff! You really don’t see a whole lot of crossover fics that are long like this one, but it’s fun to read and you’ll probably fly through it just like I did. Do you like The Proposal? No? Read it anyways xx

18. CHECKED OUT

By whelvenwinge, 27,127 words

Okay this one, is really good. Like really good. It comes complete with original artwork and fantastic storytelling. Castiel is a librarian and he really despises Dean Winchester, an acclaimed author. It’s sooooo good, I cannot stress enough how much I think you should read this. And you’ll get really pretty pictures to look at! The ending is great, the beginning is great, it’s just wonderful. So what are you waiting for? Run along now and read it!

19. SPECIAL INSTRUCTIONS

By habitatfordeanwinchester, 2,593

This one is just cute. It’s short and fluffy. Imagine Castiel working at a Chipotle and getting special instructions on a mobile order. Can you guess who they’re from? If you’re sad and need a pick me up, just read this one. It’s so cute!

20. C-S-T-L

By komodobits, 90,377

It has been a really long time since I read this one. But I know that I loved every second of it and I was crying during the majority of it. Either because I had just got done reading 91w or because the story itself made me emotional. Either way it’s a fantastic read! Castiel is an android and Dean is tasked with adding him to their army for the WAR. This fic has wonderful world building, really in-depth character exploration, and the ANGST. I’m probably going to read this one again sometime soon~ JOIN MEEEEE

[blueberry-ovaries]

WHAT SONG ARE THEY?:

these are the songs i associate with the BoB men > this is just general songs from any genre and band

Dick Winters: Viva La Vida - Coldplay

‘Just a puppet on a lonely string - Oh who would ever want to be king’

Lewis Nixon: Kiwi - Harry Styles

‘She worked her way through a cheap pack of cigarettes - Hard liquor mixed with a bit of intellect’

Carwood Lipton: The Chain - Fleetwood Mac

‘And if you don’t love me now - You will never love me again - I can still hear you saying - We will never break the chain’

Ronald Spiers: Teeth - 5 seconds of summer

‘Fight so dirty but your love’s so sweet - Talk so pretty but your heart got teeth’

Harry Welsh: Budapest - George Ezra

‘My acres of a land, I have achieved - It may be hard for you to stop and believe - But for you (ooh), you (ooh)- I’d leave it all’

Joe Liebgott: Only Angel - Harry Styles

‘Broke a finger knocking on your bedroom door - I got splinters in my knuckles crawling cross the floor’

Joe Toye: Thunderstruck -AC/DC

‘Ain’t got no gun, ain’t got no knife - Don’t you start no fight - ‘Cause im T.N.T. Im dynamite - T.N.T. and i’ll win the fight’

Bill Guarnere: Breakin’ Dishes - Rhianna

‘I’m kickin’ ass, i’m taking names, i’m on flame, don’t come home babe - I’m breaking dishes up in here, all night’

George Luz: Bad Omens - 5 seconds of summer

‘I cried in your dark brown eyes for the thousandth time - ‘cause you love somebody - I died when you left that night for the thousandth time - ‘Cause you love somebody

Skip Muck: Youngblood - 5 seconds of summer

‘Remember the words you told me - Love me ‘til the day i die - Surrender my everything ‘cause you made me believe you’re mine’

Don Malarkey: The Archer - Taylor Swift

‘Screaming, who could ever leave me, darling? But who could stay - ‘Cause they see right through me, they see right through me’

Frank Perconte: Treasure - Bruno Mars

‘Honey, you’re my golden star - You know you can make my wish come true -If you let me treasure you’

Babe Heffron: Angel of Small Death and the Codine Scene - Hozier

‘With her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean - She’s the angel of small death and the codine scene - With her straw blonde hair - her arms hard and lean - she’s the angel of small death and the codine scene’

Bull Randleman: Enter Sandman - Metallica

‘Til the sandman, he comes - Sleep with one eye open - Gripping your pillow tight - Exit light, Enter night’

Skinny Sisk: Little Less Conversation - Elvis

‘All this aggravation ain’t satisfactioning me - A little more bite and a little less bark - A little less fight and a little more spark’

David Webster: No Shame - 5 seconds of summer

‘Love is fatal - Won’t you give it a chance? - Centre of attention - Don’t you ask me any questions’

Shifty Powers: Learn to Fly - Foo Fighters

‘Now, i’m lookin’ to the sky to save me - Lookin’ for a sign of life - Lookin’ for something to help me burn out bright’

Johnny Martin: Custer - Slipknot

‘These days I never seem to get enough- I’m tired of this shit, I want to go home - Don’t waste my fucking time’

Chuck Grant: Piano Man - Billy Joel

‘He says ‘son can you play me a memory - I’m not really sure how it goes - But it’s sad and it’s sweet and i knew it complete - When i wore a younger man’s clothes’’

Floyd Talbert: Ride - Sir Mix-A-Lot

‘Call me a jockey - ‘Cause i’m ridin’ them skirts and i talk real cocky’

Eugene Roe: Young and Beautiful - Lana Del Ray

‘Dear lord when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man - When he comes tell me that you’ll let him in’

Pat Christensen: Someone New - Hozier

‘Honey there is no right way - And so i fall in love just a little ol’ little bit - Every day with someone new’

Buck Compton: Iris - The Goo Goo Dolls

‘Yeah you bleed just to know you’re alive - And i don’t want the world to see me- ‘Cause i don’t think that they’d understand’

[cricketandbooks]

THE HEART — Dead Boy Detectives

Niko Sasaki: grieving, isolated, fearful, charming, intelligent, the bringer of love and hope

THE EYES — Crystal's Playlist THE BRAINS — Edwin's Playlist THE BRAWN — Charles' Playlist

This is my playlist for Niko Sasaki that chronicles her life, and her death. I hope you like it! Just as a disclaimer, I'm not a native Jappanese speaker, so I did my best when it comes to translations. That being said, I am sure there are mistakes, so don't be afraid to correct me. I have included where I got my lyrics so that you can take a look yourself!

Annotations for the songs on the playlist under the cut:

Tracks 1-5: Unrequited

Track 1: Wake Me Up When September Ends by Green Day (Music Box Version)

This song discusses Billie Joel Armstrong's grief over his father's passing when he was 10. The title references what he said to his mother after the funeral. It discusses the death of innocence, and it appeared that Niko was incredible innocent before the death of her father. The song has a melancholy feeling to it, even in music box form. Music boxes are associated with children, and the death of her father and leaving home forced Niko to grow up too fast. While I chose the music box version in part because I felt it matched the feeling Niko gives more than the original, it is also because even though she is feeling grief, she cannot verbalize it to anyone until she meets Crystal. She cannot verbalize it to her mother because of her fear of disappointing and lying to her, and she cannot vocalize it to her classmates due to the sprites. Thus, her feelings are trapped within her, like a music box traps the music in itself.

Track 2: Ue o Muite Arukō/Sukiyaki by Kyu Sakamoto

This is a song by Kyu Sakamoto, discussing a man who whistles and looks up as he walks to hide his tears and sadness. To me, it represents her mother sending her away in an effort to fix her daughter's sadness, but that only succeeded in isolating her grieving daughter. This song sounds upbeat, but the lyrics give away its mournful nature. Here is the translation I used.

"Ue o muite arukou (I look up when I walk) Namida ga koborenai youni (So that the tears won't fall) Omoidasu haru no hi (Remembering those spring days) Hitoribocchi no yoru (But I am all alone tonight)"

These lyrics represent that while Niko agrees to go on this journey to boarding school, she is still deeply traumatized by her father's death. The sadness and memories follow her, and make her feel more alone than ever.

"Kanashimi wa hoshi no kage ni (Sadness lies in the shadow of the stars) Kanashimi wa tsuki no kage ni (Sadness lurks in the shadow of the moon) Ue o muite arukou (I look up as I walk) Namida ga koborenai youni (So that the tears won't fall) Nakinagara aruku (Though the tears well up as I walk) Hitoribocchi no yoru (For tonight I am all alone) (Whistling)"

There are a lot of references to nature such as the different seasons, the moon and shadows. This demonstrates the all encompassing nature of her grief, as she sees it everywhere she is. It also seems like her father was connected to nature, based on his dandelion advice for courage. As Niko goes to America, she is more alone and sad than ever despite her cheerful demeanor.

Track 3: Runaway by Aurora

Niko developed a fear of death and danger after her father's passing, and this fear kept her from truly feeling at home in the world.

"I was listenin' to the ocean I saw a face in the sand But when I picked it up Then it vanished away from my hands, dah"

This lyric could represent Niko's feeling that life is fragile and precious. It could vanish in an instant and for no reason despite its inevitability, like a wave crashing into the sand.

"And I was runnin' far away Would I run off the world someday? Nobody knows, nobody knows And I was dancing in the rain I felt alive and I can't complain But no, take me home Take me home where I belong I can't take it anymore"

Leaving Osaka and running away was thought to be able to help her, but instead made her feel more fearful. Even though this change gave her the energy to gather up courage, what she truly wanted was to feel at home in the world again. The fear and the grief was agony to her, but Osaka was no longer a place she could feel safe in as she did not feel supported by her mother.

"I was painting a picture The picture was a painting of you And for a moment I thought you were here But then again, it wasn't true, dah And all this time I have been lyin' Oh, lyin' in secret to myself I've been putting sorrow on the farthest place on my shelf La-di-da"

She holds on to the memories of her father and who she used to be when he was still alive, but instead of it being to keep his memory alive it was due to loneliness. Using his memory as a sort of self harm, she sought to alleviate the pain by putting her best foot forward and leaving Osaka even though she knew it was futile.

"But I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall And I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall And I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall And I kept runnin' for a soft place to fall And I was runnin' far away Would I run off the world someday?"

This represents her fears of never being able to find a place or opportunity to grieve, as she knows running from her issues will only cause more issues. She craves company and acceptance so that she can fall into grief and begin to heal.

Track 4: Landscape With a Fairy by aspidistrafly

This song represents the moment Niko goes to get her dandelion and gets infected by the dandelion sprites.

"Dyed in daybreak's light Sound asleep, curled Blue bird's first flight Silent world"

At first Niko finds peace in nature as she searchers for a dandelion. Her guard is down and she doesn't see the warnings.

"Burnished by Autumn Trees hued in crimson Yet the days darken Now you've gone away"

Lost in her sadness, she can't truly see the world around her, keeping her mind narrow and focused on trying to find something to make her feel closer to her father and to feel better. If she wasn't so lost in her mind, she may have noticed the shrine before it was too late. Red also sometimes indicates danger when found in nature, this to me symbolizes that her grief was what put her in danger.

"Waking from a dream The sun floods her eyes To unravel such a scene Of scarlet splendor"

The sprites take Niko and imbue her with a dazzling light, however this proves to be a further tragedy. Their splendor drowns out her despondency and struggle behind their parasitic need for attention without true connection. As stated in the previous verse, scarlet or red also typically indicate danger when found in nature, further demonstrating the trouble she was in.

Track 5: Everything is Scary by German Error Message

Niko enters the unknown and was unprepared for the challenges she was about to face.

"Having held it in my open hands How did it feel then? Now having felt it Describe the way the sun hit A tree you saw when you were ten"

Having witnessed death with her own eyes, she is still stuck in her past. Her fear of losing in combination with her parasitic infection keep her from being able to express how she feels to people even though she desperately needs to. Memories fade over time, and she's afraid soon her father will become even hazier, like the memories you have as a child.

"I think of everything When I'm driving not knowing where I'm going Hearing dogs bark in your new neighborhood"

Niko becomes more and more lost in her thoughts, not being able to make the boarding school her home. Barking dogs can be scary when you're in an unfamiliar place, showing that she is off balance and lonely.

Tracks 6-11: Philia

Track 6: Anthems of a Seventeen Year Old Girl by Broken Social Scene

Despite Niko's quirkiness and surreal presence, she has this ability to keep the group grounded in reality and what really matters. The reality is that they are kids who are struggling to figure life/existence and love out. That they will make mistakes, even the same ones over and over again, but still the must forgive each other for it. This song also has a nostalgic aspect to it. Niko is emotionally intelligent, and knows that even though everyone is insisting that the situation and community are temporary, they will look back and miss this time in their life. The repetition of this song could represent the monotony of existence, but the song has a way of making it feel magical. Niko romanticizes life and tries to find the beauty in everything, even the act of dropping phones and parking cars.

Used to be one of the rotten ones and I liked you for that Now you're all gone, got your makeup on, and you're not coming back

However, this song is tinged with the fear of things coming to an end, symbolizing her fear of death and being alone again. She has a group of people that accept her despite her potentially off putting personality, and she's afraid that she will be left behind as people change. She knows she's not someone who conforms to society, and she doesn't want to abandoned because of that. This is a common fear for teenagers, but is is important to her in particular because she feels she doesn't have other people to turn to.

Track 7: Kokoro no Tomo/心の友 by Mayumi Itsuwa

As Niko allows herself to become close to the group, she begins to develop her own sense of courage and a community who loves her. Translations from here and here.

"Anata kara kurushimi wo Ubaeta sono toki (At the time you took away my suffering,) Watashi ni mo ikite yuku Yuuki ga waite kuru (That living courage starts to rise even in me.) Anata to deau made wa, Kodoku na sasurai-bito (Until I met you, I was a lonely wandering person) Sono te no nukumori wo kanji sasete (Let me feel the warmth of your hand.)"

In this song, she thanks the agency for alleviating her of her loneliness and fear. She felt no one understood or accepted her, but she was able to find solace and purpose with her friends. In particular she found solace in Edwin, who immediately liked her not just in in spite of her quirkiness but because of it. They go on to develop a close friendship, encouraging each other to overcome their respective fears of the past and of their future.

"Ai wa itsumo RARABAI (Love is always a lullaby,) (Tabi ni tsukareta toki) Whenever you feel tired from your journey, Tada kokoro no tomo to watashi wo yonde (Just call me, your friend of the heart)"

Niko was the friend that everybody talked to about their deepest fears, and was willing to listen to them even when they were tired. Her gentle and compassionate nature demonstrates her attitude that love is soft. She also felt understood by the other members, empowered to become part of the world again.

"Shinjiau koto sae dokoka ni wasurete (Why do people pursue happiness whose days have passed,) Hito wa naze Sugita hi no shiawase oikakeru (Forgetting especially the belief in one another somewhere? Shizuka ni mabuta tojite kokoro no doa wo hiraki (Close your eyes quietly and open the door to your heart.) Watashi wo tsukandara namida fuite (When you take a hold of me, wipe away your tears.)"

Realizing that she must make peace with death and the past, Niko holds on to hope that happiness and peace can be found elsewhere. Her friends provide her with that comfort as she starts to heal from her grief.

Track 8: Warrior by Aurora

As opposed to the last song by Aurora on this playlist, through her friendships, Niko was able to finally begin to return to the world and feel at home again.

"I can't recall last time I opened my eyes to see the world as beautiful And I built a cage to hide in I'm hiding, I'm trying to battle the night"

Niko's father seemed to be the person that showed Niko the beauty of the world, and when he died that beauty was lost. However, now that she is no longer alone, she isn't too afraid to once again open her eyes to the joy she once saw.

"Let love conquer your mind Warrior, warrior Just reach out for the light Warrior, warrior I am a warrior-ior-ior-ior Warrior, warrior I am a warrior-ior-ior-ior Warrior, warrior of love"

Niko was the friend group's champion of love, believing in it wholeheartedly even when the others had doubts. She was the one brave enough to talk about the truth and put herself out there, particularly for Edwin and Jenny. Despite her fearful nature, through love she is able to become a warrior.

"I stand behind the wall Of people and thoughts, mind controlling And I hold a sword to guide me I'm fighting my way"

Despite being constantly underestimated, Niko is a very intelligent and observant person. Being able to accurately observe others, she is able to do what the other characters are not in order to help them achieve happiness.

"Underneath darkened skies There's a light kept alive"

Despite all her work, I interpret a small part of her matchmaking and encouragement to a part of her that is doing this because she feels like if love does not work out, then life is not worth living. She also feels insecure at not having had a romantic relationship herself. However, she is still able to pull through and be the light in all of their lives despite any potential failings.

Track 9: Best Friend by Kana Nishino

As Crystal and the boys prepare to leave, Niko makes it clear to them that they are precious to her. In a group that doesn't always communicate the extent of their feelings to each other, it was so important that this is communicated.

"Arigatou (Thank you) (Kimi ga ite kurete hontou yokatta yo (I’m glad that you’re here) Donna toki datte itsumo waratte irareru (No matter the time, I can always smile) Tatoeba, hanareteite mo nannen tatte mo (No matter how many years pass) Zutto kawaranai deshou watashitachi Best Friend (While we’re away from each other nothing will have changed, we're Best Friends) Suki dayo… (I love you…) Daisuki da yo… (I really love you…)"

It is Niko that insists that the group is better and stronger together, even as they prepare to part. She is unashamed to insist on continued connection, becoming the glue that holds them all together.

"Konna osoi jikan ni gomen ne (I’m sorry for waiting so long to say this) Hitori ja seppatsumatte kita no (I was driven into a corner alone) Kimi no koe sukoshi kiketara (When I hear your faint voice) Ganbareru (I felt like I could make it) Nande mo uchi akerareru (I can tell you anything) Mama ni mo ienai koto mo zenbu (Even things I can’t tell my mom) Dare yori mo wakatte kureru (You understand better than anyone)"

Niko has found a community that makes her feel brave, both when it comes to putting herself in dangerous situations to protect her friends, but also to be honest to her mother. She is beginning to come out of her self imposed isolation.

"Sonna kimi ni watashi wa nanika shite agerareteru kana? (I wonder if there’s anything I can do for someone like you?) Nanika attara suguni tondeku kara, (When I figure it out I’ll race over to you,) Zettai (Absolutely)"

Sometimes Niko's plan to help fails dramatically, and she feels insecure about this. However that doesn't stop her resolve to help her friends no matter what. Her resilience in the face of her mistakes is part of what makes her so strong, and a force of hope for the group.

Track 10: Fuyunohanashi/冬のはなし on Given performed by Shōgo Yano and Centimillimental

This song, while about someone's partner who committed suicide, to me it also accurately describes Niko's search for closure after the death of her father. After becoming friends with the detectives and Crystal, she is able to be closer to accepting her father's death and overcoming her fear of it. Translations from here and here.

"Mada toke kirezu ni nokotta (Just like the shade of snow) Hikage no yuki mitai na (That hasn't completely melted) Omoi wo daite ikiteru (I carry on with these feelings inside me) Nee, boku wa kono koi wo (Hey, with what words) Donna kotoba de tojitara ii no (Should I close the door of this love?)"

Niko struggled and suffered greatly on her search for closure, almost giving up on love entirely. She even threw away all of her Boy's Love paraphernalia when her efforts to overcome this lack of closure was thwarted. While she was trying to prove to herself that love was worth the sadness via external sources, she had yet to fully turn inward and reflect.

"Mada tokenai mahou no youna (Just like a spell that's still unbroken) Soretomo noroi no youna (Or maybe it's some kind of curse) Omoi nimotsu wo kakaeteru (I'm still holding on to my thoughts) Nee, boku wa kono machi de (Hey, what kind of tomorrow) Donna ashita wo sagaseba ii no (Should I look for in this town?)"

Despite all of her triumphs, such as overcoming the sprites, there's still lingering sadness in her. She still hasn't written her mother, holding on to her thoughts of sadness and potential resentment. Now that she has friends, she is able begin to process what she wants out of remaining in Port Townsend.

"Anata no subete ga katachi wo nakushite mo (Even if your everything loses its shape one day) Eien ni boku no naka de ikiteku yo (You'll always be here with me) Sayonara dekizu ni aruki dasu boku to (As I try to move on again, even though I couldn't say goodbye to you I’ll carry on because I know) Zutto issho ni (You’ll always be with me)"

Finally able to let go of her fears of forgetting her father and of death itself. She is beginning to keep the memory of those she lost close without pain. Niko's father will always be a part of her, and even though she can't see him again doesn't mean that will be forever. I also chose this song from Given—a popular BL anime—to symbolize that Niko is believing in love and hope again. She is staying true to herself despite the hardship's she's faced.

Tracks 11-13: Agape

Track 11: History Maker by DEAN FUJIOKA

As Crystal and Niko prepare to save the boys, Niko is given the opportunity to demonstrate all her growth as she prepared for a dangerous battle. Niko also canonically loves Yuri!!! on Ice, so she gets two songs from that on this playlist.

"Can you hear my heartbeat? Tired of feeling never enough I close my eyes and tell myself That my dreams will come true"

Niko hadn't felt truly alive in a long time until she joined the agency, now that she is a part of the group, she can feel alive again. She encourages Crystal in their preparations, believing that love can prevail and everyone will be saved.

"There'll be no more darkness When you believe in yourself, you are unstoppable Where your destiny lies, dancing on the blades You set my heart on fire"

She refused to be left behind again, this time believing in herself. Niko has the ability to set hearts on fire, warming them and bringing them back to life. She did this with Edwin, but also with Tragic Mick, who was able to provide them with tools to help them defeat Esther.

"Don't stop us now, the moment of truth We were born to make history We'll make it happen, we'll turn it around Yes, we were born to make history"

Fully back to believing in her friends and love, she demonstrates the most courage she has yet so far.

Track 12: If by Kana Nishino

During the battle with Esther, Niko's feelings about life, death, and love come into focus, as well as her relationship with fate itself.

"Moshimo ano hi no ame ga (If the rain that day) yandeita nara (Had stopped) Kitto surechigatteita dake kamo (I'm sure we probably would have passed right by each other) Itsumotoori no jikan ni (If the bus had come) BASU ga kiteta nara (At its usual time) Kimi to wa deau koto ga nakattanda ne (We may not have ever met)"

As the group fights to save Charles and Edwin, Niko is able to reflect on the sheer miracle it is that everyone is able to be together and to have become friends. If just one different decision was made, they would not have found each other.

"Kimi to onaji mirai wo (I want to forever see) Zutto isshoni miteitai (The same future that you do) Onaji hoshi wo onaji basho de (Let's forever look at) Mitsumete iyou yo (The same stars  at the same place) Kimi no egaku mirai ni (In the future you envision) Watashi wa iru no kana (I wonder if I exist) Onaji sora wo onaji omoi de (I want to look at) Miageteitai yo (The same sky  feeling the same emotions)"

Even as things are set to change again, Niko decides to fight against the fate where they are all separated. She is going to fight to stay together with her new family, feeling the same emotions and experiences together.

"Guuzen wa saisho kara (It is as if all the coincidences) Mou kimatteta mitai ni (Have been decided from the start) Kasanatta futari wa unmei tte shinjiteiru yo (Our fates are to cross by each other, so I believe)"

This song discusses the concept of fate, particularly of people meeting each other. It seems to be fate that Niko ended up in that room fighting Esther and fate that she will face her ultimate fear of death. Throughout the series Niko has been associated with death, both from the magic eight ball that predicts it, to her hair turning white after the sprites (white being a color of death and mourning in Japanese culture).

"Tatoeba namida no hi mo (No matter if it's a day full of tears) Hare no hi mo futari de (Or if it's a bright sunny day) Onaji michi wo itsumademo (I hope we can always hold hands) Te wo tsunaide arukemasu you ni (And walk down the same roads)"

As she sees Crystal in danger, Niko hopes the very red string of fate that binds them together will stay strong despite the finality of her decision. Her hope is no matter what, she will be reunited with the ones she has grown to love and cherish.

Track 13: 愛について — Agape from Yuri!!! on Ice

Niko and love are fundamentally tied to each other. Throughout the series, Niko has been associated with the concept of philia, that is the love one has for one's friends and family. She has been shown the heartbreak that can come from that kind of love, either through death or by making mistakes that hurt other people. However, she was able to overcome these hardships to become the truest friend she could be. It has all been leading to the moment where she sacrifices herself to her greatest fear, finally demonstrating agape. Agape is considered the highest form of life: selfless and unconditional. It is a love that is both a feeling and a way of life. The lyrics discuss how life is temporary:

"Sic mea vita est temporaria (So my life is temporary) Cupit ardenter caritatem aeternam (He longs ardently for eternal love) Credam, dabo, sperabo (I will believe, I will give, I will hope) Honorabo, laborabo, gratias agam! (I will honor, I will work, I will thank you!)"

Due to the temporary nature of life, Niko has been searching for a love that lasts forever. She tried to find it in eros and philia, but now in this moment she understands what she has been missing.

"Magna, magna caritas (Great, great charity) Magna, magna caritas (Great, great charity) Ah! Audio vocem tuam! (Ah! I hear your voice!) Adest mi libertas! (Here is my freedom!)"

By performing an act of great charity, the ultimate sacrifice, Niko is granted freedom from her fear of death.

Niko's story is not over. Like the memories of her father, her presence will continue to affect the characters for the rest of the series. Her journey throughout the season in regards to love has shown her resilience, intelligence, maturity, and growth. And while in this moment she has achieved the ultimate form of love that she craved, she has so much to learn.

[bedoballoons]

Genshin Men Headcanons:

~What song they would sing to you~

(Includes: Diluc, Bennett, Thoma, Zhongli, Albedo, Itto, Gorou, Tighnari, Alhaitham, Kaveh, Baizhu, Xiao, Kazuha, Venti, Heizou, Wanderer, Kaeya, Chongyun, Mika, Ayato, Childe, Xingqiu, Cyno, and Razor!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Diluc:

♪~Ghost Town: By Benson Boone~♪

He'd try any way to get out of singing to you, it's not that he's embarrassed, he's just scared you'll end up not liking what you're hearing. He sounds amazing though and each lyric is sung with so much soul...

Bennett:

♪~Walking On Sunshine: By Katrina and The Waves~♪

He walks up to the mic and just let's loose singing happily, dancing around without a care in the world...till he gets wrapped up in the wire and falls off the stage, the thought was sweet though! His singing wasn't horrible either!

Thoma:

♪~Dont Stop Believing: By Journey~♪

He is extremely red in the face, the entire time before singing saying that he's going to sound terrible...but as soon as he you realize that's not even close to true. He sounds perfect and he adds extra emphasis to the chorus.

Zhongli:

♪~Hallelujah: By Leonard Cohen~♪

When he sings it's like you can see the story playing out in front of you, it makes you wonder if he experienced anything like it. He sounds wonderful, his voice slightly lower than normal and it made your heart beat faster.

Albedo:

♪~Rewrite The Stars: Sung By Zac Efron and Zendaya~♪

He sings the song a bit slower than the original almost like a acoustic version and he's slightly awkward, but he sounds good. Through out the entire song his eyes are on you and at the end he thanks you for giving him the courage to try.

Itto:

♪~Thats What Makes You Beautiful: By One direction~♪

He goes all out, screaming the chorus loudly and putting a hand on his heart as the song comes to a close. He doesn't sound...the best, but he's so funny and cheerful that it doesn't matter.

Gorou:

♪~Just The Way You Are: By Bruno Mars~♪

He's so shy when it starts that he messes up the words, but after you give him a reassuring smile he forgets his stage fright and sings the best he can, he doesn't sound bad either! In fact he does really well and gestures to you whenever he gets to the chorus, making you blush heavily.

Tighnari:

♪~Time Bomb: By Zach Gordon~♪

He teased you till you'd sing, now it was his turn and he wasn't happy about it, everything sounded to loud, he already had a headache from the horrid singers before the two of you. However...he sang really well and it was like he had a special connection to the song. It made your heart flutter.

Alhaitham:

He refuses to sing, claiming there's no point in it other than for entertainment and reading a novel would give the same effect. He did say he that if he were to sing it wouldn't be anything sappy or romantic, most likely something classical and short.

Kaveh:

♪~Uptown Girl: By Billy Joel~♪

He's a absolute blast, his singing isn't perfect but he puts so much effort into the song and into his dance moves. By the end he's completely out of breath and your stomach hurts from laughing, your face is red with a blush.

Baizhu:

♪~Leaving On A Jet Plane: By John Denver~♪

He sings so softly, taking deep breaths between most of the lyrics and you can't help but worry about his song choice. He had soul...and he would sound good if there wasn't so many pauses...was he really going to be okay?

Xiao:

♪~Perfect For Me: Sung By Justin Timberlake~♪

At first he said he wouldn't take part in such a mortal activity, but eventually with enough convincing and promised almond tofu, he eventually agreed. You were in pure shock...he sounded amazing and despite the song being a sad one...he somehow sang it like a love song.

Kazuha:

♪~I Will Follow You Into The Dark: By Death Cab For Cutie~♪

His voice is very gentle and he sings so slowly, you could fall asleep to it, not to mention how good he actually sounds. Poetry and the art of sword fighting are just some of the many things he's amazing at.

Venti:

♪~Tale As Old As Time: Celine Dion~♪

Not only did he play his lyre but he sang so wonderfully, it was right out of a story book and you cheered for him when it was over. Little did you know you were his inspiration.

Heizou:

♪~Perfect: By Ed Sheeran~♪

It was a cheesy song choice and he knew that, but it was one of the few he knew all the words to. He sang it pretty well too, even grabbing your hand and dancing with you while he sang.

Wanderer:

♪~Walls: By Louis Tomlinson~♪

He tried every way possible to get out of singing, saying he'd rather eat garbage then sing a song, but in the end he'd been dared and now he had too. He actually put more effort into it then you expected and as he sang...you could tell he was truly feeling the emotions of the song.

Kaeya:

♪~Sexy And I Know It: By LMFAO~♪

You were dying of laughter, your blush redder than a tomato as he sang directly to you the ENTIRE song. Not to mention his dancing...that was questionable. He truly knew how to do a show and he winked at the end...

Chongyun:

♪~Flashlight: By Hailee Steinfeld~♪

He's completely blushed the entire time as he sings the sappiest song you'd ever heard and afterwords he had to eat three popsicles just to calm down...but it was all very cute.

Mika:

♪~Somebody To You: By The Vamps/Demi Lovato~♪

He was so nervous he could barely sing and although the song was one he knew...he messed up every word, he didn't sound very good but the emotion in the song was there!

Ayato:

♪~Thousand Years: By Christina Perri~♪

You were shocked by his song choice at first, but as he slowly sang the whole song you fell absolutely in love with him all over again. He sounded incredible and afterwords the two of you slow danced.

Childe:

♪~What A Man Gotta Do: By The Jonas Brothers~♪

You couldn't help but smile the entire time as he sang, he was enjoying himself and he sounded pretty good! He was also fairly animated, clearly used to entertaining others and it only made the whole situation that much better.

Xingqiu:

♪~Dandelions: By Ruth B~♪

He sang so gracefully, each note hit perfectly on time and in key...it was beautiful, thoughtful. He had a light blush on his face but the entire time he smiled showing his true feelings through music.

Cyno:

♪~All I Want Is You: By Barry Louis Polisar~♪

The song was a little silly, with more puns then you'd usually like, but the way he sang it also made it feel...romantic? Somehow it became a very special song to you both and he hums it sometimes while at work.

Razor:

♪~Count On Me: By Bruno Mars~♪

He's not the best at talking, so singing really isn't his strong suit but he tried very hard and in the end he sounded adorable. He may not have remembered some of the words and he definitely wasn't in key...but he picked the song just for you.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

✿Hope you have a good day!✿

[numetaljackdog]

what i'm listening to november 2023. the agony

spot. link//yt link

song notes under cut

Laura Les - Haunted: haunted. by laura les.

Garbage - Queer: stand up for the fag anthem. but also let's be real one of the main draws here is the music video where shirley manson pushes the pov character down to the ground and forcibly shaves your head while singing "i know what's good for you." i'm a lesbian

Chris Fleming - W.U.G.: i've met a couple wugs in my time but more than anything i'm just on my chris fleming shit recently. this one has been stucks in my head sooo bad and bsaically anytime i see the word "guy" it comes back with a vengeance

Limp Bizkit & Method Man - N 2 Gether Now: random lb songs will really just crop up in my rotation for seemingly no reason but really this one has so many good lines and the addition of method man brings it up by so much. it's comical on some level bc it's like why is he here, he's like. a real rapper. and fred sounds so out of his depth next to him. but at the same time they both do actually really pretty good. pull the plug and then jet. MIC CHECK.

Sloppy Jane - Bark Like a God: recommended by a friend. need to listen to the full album but this goes insane goes crazy i mean those damn vocals and the THEMES ugh i mean what else do you need in this world. don't even really know what to call this band but it good and i need more

Almeda Riddle - My Little Rooster: Gummo is a 1997 American experimental drama film written and directed by Harmony Korine, starring Jacob Reynolds, Nick Sutton, Jacob Sewell, and Chloë Sevigny. The film is set (but was not filmed) in Xenia, Ohio, a Midwestern American town that had been previously struck by a devastating tornado. The loose narrative follows several main characters who find odd and destructive ways to pass time, interrupted by vignettes depicting other inhabitants of the town.

Destroy Boys - Fences: mostly just real catchy. many such cases. but there is a certain doggish quality to it as well

Enon - Natural Disasters: hi violer :3 ooh ahh the song so catchy the riff so tastey and shiney

Limp Bizkit - The Truth: i watched the band's short film of the same name recently and was pretty underwhelmed. but it did make me wanna go back and listen to the ep! it's been said to death but it's easily some of lb's best work, and not just because it's the serious one or whatever

Repo! The Genetic Opera - Night Surgeon: tbh there should be more repo on here but there's only so much space and this is undoubtedly my favorite track from the soundtrack (although "at the opera tonight" comes pretty damn close!!) i could listen to anthony head go "i remember" like that allllll day. i have been having some serious repo fixation recently i won't lie. give it a watch it's a normal movie

Foo Fighters - Everlong (Acoustic Version): okay look you guys know at this point how i get about everlong. so when i was watching hit film little nicky starring adam sandman and a rather beautiful sequence took place accompanied by a sparse acoustic version still laden in the characteristic warmth of the original song, of course i was hooked. and that's a nu metal-ass movie, too, but this was the pick i ended up making. that's special

Dropkick Murphys - I'm Shipping Up To Boston: WOOOOO BOSTON!!!!!!!! GO BRUINS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! GET ME A CUP O DUNKS!!!!!!! WOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!! YANKEES SUCK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! <is not from boston but rather a different place entirely

Fefe Dobson - Unforgiven: why did nobody tell me about this fuckin nu metal x y2k pop fusion. this is like rina sawayama stfu but all the way back in 200-goddamn-3. fefe you were before your time

MGMT - Little Dark Age: i don't know mgmt that well but i heard a little bit of this song in a youtube video long ago and really liked it and could never find it and then i happened to encounter it again and was like oh hello my old acquaintance shall we get to know each other better

Billy Joel - All For Leyna: beginning to realize that billy is good actually. every little part of this song is crunchy and sweet and delicious for me. and god i sure am doing it all for leyna aren't i......

Tom Cardy & Brian David Gilbert - Beautiful Mind: tbh this was far from my favorite effort from either of these guys...... didn't really think it was all that funny. had a very lol random sort of appeal that just didn't hit me right. however it does sound amazing, really clean, and they both have nice voices. plus you know i love them harmonies

Taco - Puttin' on the Ritz: they play this a lot at a cafe i go to sometimes. i used to not like this song but it's really grown on me. it's one of those absolutely one-of-a-kind songs that could have only been a hit at the exact time and place that it was. and i like stuff like that! you might even say i think it's super duper :)

Violent Femmes - Breakin' Up: this song is dumb as balls. and it sounds way better in my head than it does to actually listen to it. but! the video is really cool, with that simple but effective camera trick. i enjoy that

Bowling For Soup - Girl All the Bad Guys Want: if the previous song was dumb as balls, this song is dumb as. like. the epididymis. or like a single sperm cell. i don;t know man it's a dumb fucking song. but it's about a cool rap rocker girl :3 and that's meeeeee probably. when i listen to it i like to rate each lyric on how true it is. watching wrestling? maybe now and then. creaming over tough guys? hmmm no i would simply not do this. but listening to rap metal? turntables in her eyes?? now we're fuckin talkin!!!!!!!!!!

[anticomedygarden]

now i know that happiness goes on (euphoria)

title from billy joel's 'the longest time'

so, i wasn't going to participate in the february microfic prompts since i'm so new to fic writing, but this just kinda happened

-

There was a time Remus thought he would never be happy. 

Still did, sometimes. Would in the future, he knew, the very near future, in fact, feel the absolute despair of hopelessness. 

How could he not? He was a werewolf after all; turned at age four into a great, terrible beast that threatened to destroy him once a month, not to mention the prejudice that tore at him every day. 

Then there was the war. It had become all-encompassing; it pressed on everyone from all angles. There was no escaping it. War was coming, and with it would come horrors he had only glimpsed in his transformations. 

It was just the other day, actually, that the castle had received news of a Death Eater attack in a muggle town nearby. It hadn’t been the first, and it wouldn’t be the last. 

Remus shifted on his bed, shaking out limbs still aching from their recent transformation. That, too, hadn’t been the first, but it could be one of the last if the war didn’t turn soon. 

His shifting seemed to have disturbed the pile of blankets next to him as one of them tightened its grip on his chest, its fingers lightly digging into his side. He followed the red clad arm to the face of the figure still sleeping on the other side of the bed. 

Shoulder-length black waves framing a thin, sharp face; pale eyelids hiding deep grey irises. 

Angelic, was one word to describe it. Angelic in that it had saved him, time and time again. From the wolf, from other students, teachers, people in general. From himself, on more than one occasion. 

Healing, was another word he could use. Healing in that it not only brought him back to life the morning after every full moon, but had also picked up all his broken pieces and put them back together again, new and shining, leaving him better for it. 

Loving, the best word of them all. Loving in that it had taken him in, broken pieces and all, and stood by him anyway, unflinching even in his darkest moments, the moments he thought he could never be happy again. 

That face had told him over and over that he was capable of love and being loved, no matter how little he thought he deserved it. 

And when he saw that face smiling back at him, Remus felt, deep in his heart, the happiness he had denied himself for so long.

"Good morning, love," the face said through a sleep rumpled mouth.

"Good morning, darling," Remus whispered back. And then, since he was also still half asleep and therefore not yet completely sound of mind, murmured, "Do you know how happy you make me?"

Those grey eyes Remus loved so dearly fluttered open the rest of the way. "Can't be more than you make me."

Remus shook his head lightly. "You make me the happiest."

Sirius' fingers danced across his chest, leaving little sparks behind in their wake. "You make me giddy, Moony."

"You make me content," Remus responded, trusting Sirius knew exactly how much that meant.

"You make me ecstatic," his boyfriend shot back.

"You make me elated."

"You make me...delighted."

"You make me euphoric."

Remus could have continued their game for hours, as could Sirius, but instead his boyfriend swung a leg over Remus' waist and pulled himself atop the tawny haired boy.

"As long as I make you euphoric..." Remus huffed out a laugh as Sirius leaned down to press kisses along his neck, and it was then, he knew, he had found his happiness.

-

@wolfstarmicrofic

[reyofluke-ocs]

8, 18, 28, 38, 48, 58, 68, 78, 88, and 98 for Spotify Wrapped ask game

cries Ali I love you but whyyy

Send me 1-100 and I'll tell you what Spotify wrapped song it is and what oc/ship it applies to!

8. Cosmic Love - Florence + the Machine

Really any ship that could become dark. Obviously the first to come to mind is Karina Lantsov and her relationship with Mal, Alina and Aleksander bc Aleksander would LOVE to drag all three into the darkness with him. But also some of my AUs for Eleanor Winters, especially the ones involving Lycan!Chris and alive Wesker (which totally does not turn into Eleanor x Chris x Wesker bc what am I if not predictable). For OCs themselves, likely Ashley Williams and Octavis Octavius. In TLoU P2, Ashley kinda goes off the rails at Joel's death (though I go back and forth between killing him and not). And Octavius, there's the whole anti-heroine Madame Octopus thing.

18. Meet Me in the Woods - Lord Huron

ELEANOR. In fact, I should double check if I've added this to her playlist yet. The lyrics just scream the aftermath of House of the Rising Sun/All Things End. Goes with Ethan to figure what wtf is going on with Mia, gets (unknowingly) killed and turned into a B.O.W, goes through hell, meets and eventually falls in love with Chris only to get betrayed bc of Mother Miranda bullshit... should probably change this to be her them song tbh.

28. Ain't No Grave - Crooked Still

This is on my Ashley Williams playlist and fits her perfectly, because nothing will keep her from her loved ones (Ellie and later Joel). She grew up doing all sorts of questionable things just for Ellie; she's even willing for a good chunk of the journey to throw Joel to infected or groups if it'll buy Ellie time to escape and live.

38. Setting Sun - Lord Huron

Funny, as much as I adore this song, it's hard to apply it to an OC or ship without diving into massive AU territory. The Darkling I can see being like this, but Karina is a Malarklina ship so kinda not at the same time since he considers all three his? Same thing could apply to an AU involving Eleanor x Chris x Wesker or Lyall x Diana or even Luke x Jana. Pretty much add unhinged possessive behavior in a dark au to an oc or ship and you get this song, haha.

48. Fire and the Flood - Vance Joy

Romantically, Eleanor x Chris. Platonically... a lot. Eleanor & Ethan, Ashley & Ellie & Joel, Nelda & Eragon and Nelda & Murtagh.

58. Renegades - X Ambassadors

My Star Wars OCs. And DBH OCs. And havent introduced her yet but my Hunger Games OC, Ada Steelberg. Rebels and resistance in some way? Yeah, this song is for them.

68. Pompeii- Bastille

Eleanor Winters, Sidney and Donna Riley-Weathers, Maureen Prescott, Nelda (to a lesser extent when you factor in events from Murtagh). 'Does it almost feel like nothings changed at all?' And for all of them, in some way, that's true. Eleanor gets dragged back into facing off B.O.W.s in Romania; Sidney, Donna and Maureen all deal with Ghostface and being legacies of og Woodsboro survivors (and as the child of Sidney and Billy in Maureen's case). It's heavily hinted at in Murtagh that there's shaping up to be a new big bad that might have been behind Galbatorix and whatnot in Murtagh, so Nelda is going from one war to another, basically.

78. Seven Devils - Florence + the Machine

Even though it's on my Eleanor playlist, it could also fit Ashley, because of the lengths she's willing to go for the few people she cares about.

88. Gasoline - Halsey

Too many, tbh. Obviously it's added to my Eleanor Winters and Ashley Williams playlists but it also applies to my DBH OCs Fred and Christi bc of the lyrics 'I think there's a flaw in my code' bc you know, they become deviants and all.

98. In Dreams - Ben Howard

I have no idea. Mind immediately goes to Eleanor but also not quite because she does get a happy-ish ending with Chris even though she does lose Ethan. In a way it also kinda reminds me of Ashley. 'I may be troubled but I'm gracious in defeat'; she's okay with who she becomes and what she has to do for Ellie and later Joel. Idk this was honestly hard.

[teddypmedley]

Tv shows I like with absolutely bangin soundtracks

Gilmore Girls - Carole King, Grant-Lee Philips (troubadour), The Bangles, The Shins, Sam Philips, Bowie, Blondie, Nancy Sinatra, The Smiths, Talking Heads. Everything from the oldies to current stuff, mostly various flavors of rock. Lots of new wave and post punk vibes. It’s got everything from greatest hits to deep cuts. The whole show is a love letter to (mostly American, mostly white) art/media in general. While I acknowledge plenty of the references do not hold up, I hold that the soundtrack has zero misses in terms of well-chosen bangers.

Sex Education - Ezra Furman does a lot of it, and then they throw in loads of rock and pop classics and current stuff. Violent Femmes, Fleetwood Mac, T.Rex, The Velvet Underground, Brenton Wood, Queen. It’s honestly on par with Gilmore Girls, Furman takes the place of Carole King/Grant-Lee Philips and then everything else is an eclectic and fun mix. It’s more diverse than the GG soundtrack and also has zero misses.

Grace & Frankie - the intro theme is Stealers Wheel but the rest of it is a mix of oldies and current stuff. Eclectic as hell, I adore it. Everything from Gloria Gaynor to Bahamas. A bit of it is covers but they’re good covers. Then you’ve got Any Winehouse, The Milk Carton Kids, Kenny Loggins, Dionne Warwick, Alabama Shakes, 7horse, Little Richard, Adele. I think I caught a bit of punk in Frankie’s car in one scene, it might’ve been the Clash but I forget.

Madam Secretary - ok hear me out!!!! You’ve got Andra Day, Adele, Bowie, Peter Frampton, Joni Mitchell, a song from a Sondheim musical, several songs performed by the cast with their vocals and piano (inc. Can’t Take My Eyes Off You, a parody of a Billy Joel song, a few Christmas songs…). And then the song of all time, Cemalım (Erkin Koray) which slaps.

Our Flag Means Death - every song in the soundtrack is a banger I just personally always have different associations with them already because they’re always quite important to me before i see the show. Which is why it’s so low on the list for me personally. Also I have spent the last year and a half overthinking every song I hear through the brainrot lens and I associate like a whole other group of songs with that show now instead of the soundtrack. But the actual canon soundtrack is good, I love Lou Reed, Fleetwood Mac, etc.

How to Get Away With Murder - man I didn’t even finish watching this show and some of the songs stuck with me. Mostly IAMX.

What We Do In The Shadows - the fucking intro Norma Tenga song alone changed my life. It goes so goddamn hard. And then you add King Luan, Tol-Puddle Martyrs, Matt Berry’s originals, MUSE!!!!, Echo & The Bunnymen, Haley Heynderickx (who is SURELY also in Sex Ed), THE CRAMPS (perfect choice, I was furious until they finally put ‘em in), Siouxsie and Bauhaus (both almost certainly also in Gilmore Girls, but I could be wrong)… man I could continue from just season 5 alone they really don’t miss.

Community - their soundtrack includes The Police, Florence + The Machine, The Fratellis, The Cranberries, Lord Huron… and of course loads of cast originals.

Criminal Minds - pixies, NIN, the Kinks, Dean Martin, Ella Fitzgerald, Jeff Buckley… all of this was also on Gilmore Girls. Billy Joel, Sara Bareilles, Jason Mraz, Deep Purple, Korn, Boston, Johnny Cash, AC/DC, Bob Dylan, THE BLACK KEYS!!!!, REM, Leonard Cohen, Cage the Elephant… all bangers. Honestly that’s part of what kept me watching for so long.

I’d just like to acknowledge Twin Peaks, The Sopranos, Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries, Father Brown, and Heartstopper, Derry Girls, the Good Place, and Parks and Rec, which all also have soundtracks.

[dongiovannaswife]

reborn and rebuilt

Collab with @softlimefluff @sunshine-shitposts 💕💕

I'm so happy to have reached this point on this arc and see how every arc from past years has culminated on this!!

Arc's Masterlist.

CW: medical stuff, suggestive content (one scene), unreality, mentions of death.

***

Fugo’s bored: it's not like he wants something to happen because if it did he'd be the first responsible for such an incident. Maybe it's just the lack of change in his surroundings that's tiring him out… Unlike the others, he doesn't want to leave his spot and have someone else monitor the cameras, too caught up wanting to do his best for the Giovanna's.  

Leaning on his elbow, his hand moves every now and then, making him lose sight of the multiple cameras —however, he stops once Kishibe Rohan comes in sight, Akashi before him: judging by the way Akashi’s gesturing, he can tell he’s going on detail about one of his stories. 

How could he forget the time he confessed his… Bizarre life before being a stand user: He still couldn’t believe he used to be one of Oda Nobunaga’s men. 

Sighing and leaning back on his chair, he takes one long sip from his coffee, looking around until he spots Paolo and Abel by the front doors. Rome’s Capo doesn’t look so well, leaning against the wall clutching a mug—their conversation comes through the earpiece, making him stop and listen, even if it goes against his morals. 

“The thing is, have you noticed how many, if not all, cultures and religions mention the number twelve?” gesturing vaguely, Paolo counts down every example with his fingers, “Twelve apostles, twelve months, twelve constellations, the twelve labors of Hercules, the twelve Greek gods. Twelve. This started in October…” 

Abel nods, finishing Paolo’s sentence. “...Twelve.” 

Sighing, Fugo speaks up. “Abel, you should take a break. You too, Paolo. I’ll get West and Pietro there in a second.” 

*** 

Akashi has been ranting for a while now, drifting from anecdotes to actual gossip—and suddenly, as if reminding himself of his initial motives, the short, pink-haired man looks back into Rohan's eyes. “So, Kishibe-sensei, you know I'm a stand user, right?” 

Hands stuffed into his pockets, Rohan nods, brow furrowed, almost as if he feels insulted by the question. Pondering his reply for a second, the mangaka nods: “I assume everyone in this mansion is one. Giovanna wants powerful people around to protect his family.” 

Akashi scoffs, resting a hand against his katana and nodding. “That's right, man's crazy. Don't tell him I said that though!!” Walking a few steps further, Akashi looks back at Kishibe-sensei with a smile. “By the way, let me tell you something.” 

Rohan's brow furrows further —and though he's suddenly reminded of Josuke's comment on how he looks like The Grinch when he frowns, he still brushes it off, letting the swordsman carry on.

“First off,” Akashi starts, a soft and relaxed sway on his walk down the hall, like he's dancing and walking at once. “Have you ever heard of Oda Nobunaga?”

Rohan scoffs. “Of course. One of the three unifiers of Japan.”

Akashi laughs, wholeheartedly. “Then you're gonna shit yourself, man!!!” His expression turns serious, pausing in the hallway a moment. “I was one of his soldiers. My stand, No Plan B, has the ability to not let me die no matter what happens to me.” After letting the information sink in, Akashi’s grin soon returns. “Like the song says: I will survive, I will survive!~” 

“You’d need that ability with everything that happened back then…” Rohan muses thoughtfully, glancing at the bedroom door, so close, yet so far away.

“Right?!? You wouldn’t even believe the kind of scrapes I got into back then… I’d be glad to tell you more stories if you want, sensei! Maybe you can use 'em as material for your manga, y’know??” 

Holding in a breath, Rohan attempted to calm down. Even if Akashi would be a valuable asset, he didn’t like being told what to do by a stranger. “Perhaps some other–”

“So there we were, the whole field and mountains before us, only horses, our katanas, and–”

Standing there listening, Rohan knew it was going to be a while longer before he could make the few step walk into their guest room. He narrowed his eyes slightly, thinking of some semi-polite way to escape. Just as he was ready to interrupt, Akashi's phone rang, Fugo on the other side. 

“You gonna be done any time soon, killer queen?? We still have assignments, you know.”

“Oh damn, what time is it??”

“Too long… Kishibe-sensei has been glancing at the door for the past 10 minutes, dude.”

Eyes widening, Akashi hangs up and bows low, uttering apologies and backing away slowly, then running out of the hallway. Shaking his head, Rohan finally gets to the door, walking inside and very quietly shutting the door again.

Breaking into a smile, he walks over, finding Ellie asleep in a mini bed and Ari napping on the couch. Just like at home. Pulling out his phone camera, he snaps a few pics of Ellie to remember the moment and walks over to Ari, kneeling and petting her head softly.

“Ari, baby??”

She wrinkles her nose gently, letting out a soft whine, and opens her eyes slightly, groggy and still sleepy. “Mmmmmgh???”

Rohan chuckles, laying his palm on her cheek. “Go back to sleep, just wanted you to know I’m here.”

“Mmmm.” Nodding slowly, Ari closes her eyes again, one hand still holding onto his. Kissing her knuckles softly, Rohan pulls his hand away and drapes Ari’s blanket back over her. They all had a long flight and none of them slept particularly well, so he didn’t blame her for needing more rest. 

Brushing a thumb over her cheek, he stands, going to make sure Ellie is okay, watching over her quietly as he checks his email.

Spam. Spam. Interview request. Fanmail. Spam. Izumi–

He opens that one, reading over her latest editorial notes:

Rohan-sensei,

In reading the new chapters you sent me, I think the concept is good, but perhaps you could make the reasons for Myo’s quest more obvious? While we all love a mystery, I believe he needs more evident drive for exploring the Coralius Library. His character, while somewhat curious, should have a better reason for being there. Pulling plot points out of thin air is possible, but not the complex and expertly planned storytelling your readers have come to expect. Please revise and turn in new storyboards (at least for the next chapter) within a week. 

-Kyoka Izumi

Swearing under his breath and rolling his eyes, Rohan sits down hard on the bed, flopping back onto the covers and racking his mind for ideas. 

What more reason does Myo need than pure curiosity??? 

Looking over at the console table, he spies a fruit basket, left there by the Giovannas. 

Of course. Food. Basic sustenance. Even if they’re in the underwater city, Myo and Sana still need to eat. Perhaps there’s a cafe inside or a cultural center… A tower with many vendors like one of the areas in Shibuya… What was it, sharelounge?

Sitting up once again, Rohan opens a new note on his phone and quickly types out the new scene ideas, setting, and pacing, noting that he’ll try to make time for sketches later in the evening or the next morning. Heaven’s Door pops out, reading over Rohan’s shoulder and already forming ideas, discussing the changes with him, then claps his hands over his mouth when the noise wakes Ellie and lowers his voice to a whisper.

“I’m so sorry, master, I forgot Ellie can see and hear stands.”

Rohan waves his hand, dismissing Heaven, and walks over to the small bed, leaning down to find Ellie’s chimera-san and bring it closer to her. She grabs it with a pout and sniffles, letting out little cries once again, still upset about being in an unfamiliar place.

“Heyyy.” Rohan smiles a little, reaching to soothe Ellie. “I know it’s a little scary, but you’re okay, Ellie. You’re safe.” Petting her hair gently, Rohan sings a quiet melody to her, getting her to settle a bit before she sits up, leaning up against the bars of the crib.

“Papa?”

“Hm??”

“Up?”

Sighing and looking over at Ari, he reaches down and pulls Eliana up and out of bed, whispering, “We have to be quiet because mama is sleeping.”

She nods in his arms, clutching her toy by its snake tail. “Quiet.”

Peering into the dim light of the room, Rohan whispers “Hearts on Fire?” and is immediately greeted by Ari’s stand, who recognizes Rohan’s call. 

“Rohan? What can I do for you?”

“Can you make sure Ari knows we went for a walk if she wakes up? I don’t want her to worry about Ellie.”

Hearts nods, giving Rohan a gentle smile. “Thank you for thinking of us. I’ll make sure she knows.” Giving Ellie a gentle forehead kiss, Hearts returns to her user, leaving the dull hum of energy behind her, like the static on a CRT TV after it gets turned off.

“Diaper check first, kiddo.” Making sure she doesn’t need changed, Rohan grabs their jackets and shoes, setting Ellie on the edge of the bed to get her little boots on through wiggles and tiny giggles. 

When she hops down with his support, Ellie grabs chimera-san with one hand, then holds Rohan’s hand with the other, hanging on tight as they walk out of the room and shut the door gently. Looking down the hallway, Rohan walks slowly to the door leading to outside, making sure Ellie has enough time to walk without tripping. 

“Outside?” Ellie looks through the glass of the door, smushing her face onto the pane to get a better look. Rohan chuckles, nodding. ‘Yeah, outside. It’s later in the season, but there’s a nice garden back here. I think the boys have a play area too.”

“Boys?”

“Mhm. Dante and Jovi. Dan and JoJo. They’re your friends, but they’re not feeling well right now. As soon as they’re better you can all play together.” 

Ellie nods solemnly, holding tighter to her dad’s hand as they open the door. An electronic alarm goes off for a second, before Fugo’s voice sounds from the nearby intercom. 

“Go ahead, Kishibe. We’ve got you covered. If you need anything let us know.”

Pressing the button, Rohan responds. “Thank you, Fugo, was it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re going to tour the gardens and play a bit. Ellie was getting restless.”

“Understood. I’ll let Don Giovanna know where you are if he needs you.”

“My thanks again.”

The area is fenced off for everyone’s protection, so Rohan lets go of Ellie’s hand, letting her run a bit while he watches carefully, picking up her toy and tucking it inside his jacket when she drops it in her excitement over the gardens. The flowers are mostly gone, except for a patch of drooping sunflowers. Walking up to it and tilting her head, Ellie reaches out and plucks a few bright yellow petals before gasping.

“Papa???? Papa!!!!”

Walking over, Rohan looks down. “Something wrong???”

Ellie’s eyes are welling with tears. “Put back.”

“Put what back??”

“Flower!!! Put back…”

Rohan notices she’s trying to put the petals back where they came from to no avail, and kneels down, opening his hands and taking the petals from her. “When we pluck petals off of flowers, they don’t go back, Eliana.”

“Why??” Ellie frowns, not yet understanding.

Rohan considers the complicated version, of root structures and leaves and biology, but settles on, “when you pull them off, they get separated from the base. Once they’ve left, they can’t return. There’s nothing to hold them there anymore.”

Ellie looks at the petals in her papa’s hand and at the sunflower once more. Leaning forward, she kisses the other leaves that are still intact. “I'm sorry.”

Melting, Rohan takes out his phone and snaps a few pictures, even getting when Ellie finds a ladybug on the sunflower leaf, screaming happily as she points it out and lets it crawl over her hand. 

When he gets a good shot, he texts it to a few people–Tomoko, Lena, Sunnie, and to his mom and Ari’s. Everyone loved getting Ellie updates; it was the one thing he could count on quelling family drama. 

As soon as he slips his phone into his pocket, he feels a tug on his jacket, and sees Ellie pointing to a play area.

Scooping her up and letting Heaven help lift her onto his shoulders, Rohan walks to the play area, still covered with layers of crunchy leaves from fall weather.

“Down!!!” Ellie demands, kicking the backs of her boots onto Rohan’s jacket. 

“Okay! Hang on, hang on!” 

As soon as her boots meet ground, she’s running around and screaming, carefully climbing to the top of the slide. “Papa!!! Catchme!!” Flinging herself down the slide, giggling the whole way down, Rohan runs to wait at the bottom, grabbing her up as she comes to the end, laughing and giving her tummy raspberries as she squeals.

“Again!!!!” 

Rohan sets her down and she repeats the process, sliding into his arms and giggling as he swings her around. Staying in his arms this time, she puts both her tiny palms on Rohan’s face, squishing his cheeks and singing “totoooorooo totorooo.” Joining in, Rohan sings the theme from My Neighbor Totoro as they walk around, looking at all the play equipment, until they find the swingset. 

Slipping into the seat safe for smaller kids, Ellie grabs onto the chains, watching carefully as Rohan starts to swing her. Keeping it at a slower speed so she doesn’t fall out, Rohan watches as she looks down and investigates the new experience. She’s never been on a swing set yet and has huge eyes, hanging on tight as she goes swinging midair. 

“I thought I’d find you back here~~”

“Mama!!!!” Ellie yells, seeing Ari walk towards them with a grin. 

“I got a text from my mom about the picture and woke up. Hearts let me know you were here.”

Rohan smiles apologetically. “I didn’t mean to wake you… Er, text your mom and have her wake you?”

“Nah, it’s okay. I got some rest, I feel better. Besides, I’d rather be here with you two.”

Pulling Rohan into a kiss, Ari grins, holding his jacket collars. “Daisuki.”

“Dai–”

The world changes. For an instant, the matter around them bends and warps, distorting and blending in colors and lights —the ground underneath them feels like melting ice, almost like it dissolves into nothingness. 

Rohan’s instincts kick in —reaching out, his arm quickly wraps around Ari’s shoulders as his hand reaches forward for Ellie, bringing her close too. 

As everything around them keeps changing and matter stops looking like itself, Kishibe holds onto his family, faintly hearing their breathings and hearts: like his senses have been momentarily enhanced, adding to the intensity of the moment. 

In the blink of an eye it stops. Suddenly he’s back in the Giovanna’s yard, his wife and daughter held in his arms tightly as they look around startled, small pants and furrowed brows. Unable to let go yet, his eyes make quick work around them, trying to identify anything that might mean harm: the smallest, tiny, most insignificant thing that might put them in danger.

And when he’s unable to find anything but the security cameras and the swings and slides around them, he looks down, feeling his own sweat clinging to his forehead and the way he can almost hear the air blowing softly around them. 

Questions fill his mind as silence comes in, settling down between them as he pulls Ellie from the swing and lowers her to the ground.

“Sorry ‘bout that.” A deep voice cuts in, startling all of them and making Ellie hide behind her dad’s legs, tiny hands holding onto his pants and big eyes full of fear.

By the glass door stands Don Giovanna, lips tightly pressed in a line and a coffee mug held in his hand, his expression one of strange calm, like he’s trying to keep it together for the sake of everyone. To know how he got there, or how long he had been there when Rohan looked around was the last of his worries.

Clearing his throat, Rohan slowly lets go of Ari, making sure to stay closer to her as he picks Ellie up, cradling her head close to his chest through trembling hands —words seem foreign, a mix of curses and senseless, interrogative pronouns circling in his head until his lips part but nothing comes out. Like he’s lost his ability to speak. 

Ari’s hand finds his arm and he relaxes, turning to her: her lips part and for a second he’s afraid of being unable to hear her voice one more time before the sweet melody of her voice reaches his ears and his brain interprets it as sound and language: 

“What’s going on?” 

Giorno sighs, forgetting about his coffee for a second as he holds the cup by the lid, turns around and gestures to them back in. Following him in silence, the Kishibe’s come inside, hearing the door lock back again. 

“Are you okay?” someone asks, and Rohan barely recognizes the voice as Lena’s. As he sits on the couch with Ellie in his lap playing with chimera-san, Ari reaches out for his hand, rubbing a gentle, soothing thumb over the back of his hand, replying after taking a big breath in. “I guess so?” 

Coming to join them, Giorno sits by his wife’s side, setting his mug on the coffee table before him with a small ‘clink’ sound. Leaning his elbows on his thighs, he leans over, green eyes scanning the family before him with ease, almost like he’s looking for something specific: stopping on Rohan, he stands up, reaches out and taps the mangaka’s cheek with his palm until he blinks and frowns, leaning back with a scowl. “Stop that.” 

Sitting down, Giorno chuckles, shoulders tense. “Now that you’re back with us, Kishibe. Let me explain.'' As his eyes take on a darker shade and his voice a serious tone, Rohan leans back, rubbing Ellie’s back, who’s suddenly too busy toying around with Ares, who purrs and stays by Rohan’s feet, looking at the infant. 

Putting Ellie down to let her bond with the maine coon, Rohan and Ari look back at the couple before them, though their eyes and attention remain mostly on Giorno. 

“Stands can modify time and space during their awakening phase, but you already know that, don’t you?” 

Both nod, slowly, and after sharing a look, their attention lays back on Passione’s boss. 

“Dr. Louis thinks that, since we’re both born stand users and one of us has had a requiem stand for years now,” he makes a pause to gesture at himself, “The boys have a higher predisposition to stronger stands. Which means the stand fever should be more aggressive.” 

“Which makes the whole reality collapse worse.” Lena adds softly, a hand rubbing over her belly as the other toys nervously with her ring, eyes drifting between Rohan and Ariel while she and her husband await a response. 

Rohan frowns, hands reaching up to fix his headband even though it remains perfect —taking it off, his hair falls over his eyes for a second, messy green locks slicked back with a shaking hand as he lets the fabric rest around his neck. “Let me get this straight,” he says, pulling the headband up to rest around his forehead like it usually does, then fixing his hair up and into its usual hairstyle, “You’re saying Dante and Jovi… Their stands, I mean, are messing with the whole of reality? Isn’t that dangerous?”

“Of course it is.” Lena says, low and calm, despite the fear buried in her eyes. “But… We have someone who has reassured us it won't cause any real, permanent damage.”

“Han,” Ari speaks up now, much gentler and calmer. “If they know nothing will happen, then we just need to be extra careful.” she looks on through kind eyes, expecting them to say anything else, though it never comes.

Silence settles in. Unnerving, full of anxiety: Lena’s wandering eyes and Giorno’s dark eyes give off a strange aura, almost like there was something left unsolved between them. Not an argument, that was evident, but something… 

Sighing, Rohan leans in, imitating Giorno’s position. “Alright, Giovanna, Speak up. You two are thinking, no; you’re worried about something.” 

Chuckling, Giorno shakes his head, looking down at his shoes like they’re the most interesting thing out of nowhere: there he confesses, question shaped and broken hearted: afraid. “Does ‘soul extraction’ ring any bells?” 

Quieting down, Rohan looks down at the coffee table, staring into the mug for a second —there he notes the mug is full, like they had just come here before the incident happened and Giorno decided to check on them— before he looks back, this time in Lena’s direction. “Wire requiem.” 

Ari gasps now, eyes falling on the baby bump. “Wire AND Gold Experience requiem.” 

Nodding, Lena speaks up now, raspy and slow, full of fear. “If what she said is true, which is most likely, then Esme…” 

Giorno finishes her sentence through gritted teeth, voice raspy and full of something that he can't name nor drown out. “She will be in so much pain when the time comes.” 

Rohan hums, trying to say anything that might soothe them. “But that means she’ll be extraordinarily strong, doesn’t it?”

Giorno looks back, tense: his tone one of defeat. “If I can’t stand seeing the twins like this then I don’t know how it will feel when she’s the one in bed.” His eyes soften, pained. “Seeing your kid in pain feels like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest without you being able to do something to help them, because this sh—” taking a deep breath, he tries to finish his sentence. “This thing, the stand fever… It’s up to their system to survive or not.” 

A sob breaks through, and Giorno looks back to Lena, who’s now hiding her face with both of her shaking hands. Leaning back, he wraps his arm around her shoulders, bringing her closer in an attempt to soothe her. 

Looking up from her spot in the carpet by Ares' side, Ellie stands up and runs up to Lena's lap, where her small hands carefully lay and her big eyes look up to her with innocent worry. “Auntie Lena…” She holds up her toy, pushing it into Lena’s arms. “Here.”

Hugging onto Lena’s leg, Ellie lays her face on her Aunt’s thigh, holding on tight to comfort her. Lena looks down, eyes welling with tears at the little one’s kindness, petting her hair softly and holding the toy.

“S’okay to cry.” Ellie pats Lena’s leg once more and closes her eyes, laying there for another minute until everyone has calmed down. 

“Why don’t we watch some Spy x Family and relax for a few minutes?” Rohan suggests, gesturing to the TV, trying to break the tension.

Lena nods, holding the toy back out to Ellie. “You’ll need this if we watch Miss Anya, right?”

Smiling, Ellie grabs the toy and takes Lena’s hand. “Come watch!!!” Tugging gently, she drags her Aunt to the couch, waiting for someone to put an episode on, kicking her legs over the edge of the couch and bouncing slightly.

“Is Anya your favorite?” Giorno asks, smiling over at Eliana and picking up the remote. She immediately lights up and nods over and over, giggling. “Anya!!! Anya!!!” She can say it better than the first time they watched together and Ari beams, remembering her “Ah-Ah.”

Leaning into Rohan and watching from the side, Ari tears up a little, whispering, “Rohan, she’s getting so big. When did she grow up so fast?”

He smiles and kisses Ari’s forehead, lingering there as the opening theme starts. “We’re lucky… So lucky… And she’s gonna be a stand user some day. But she’s strong. She’s already so curious and learning fast… I know she’ll make it through.” 

Squeezing Ari’s hand, he pulls her close, watching as Ellie sits between Giorno and Lena, happily holding onto chimera-san and giggling as Loid puts on his bondman mask and competes to save “Princess Anya.” The room’s mood has completely changed, and while an air of uncertainty still lingers, the feeling is warmer now, worries forgotten for a few moments together.

As time flows, and a few episodes later, the tension in the room has dispersed completely, blending back into more logical thoughts and possible solutions, like Dr. Louis’ words about a way to slow down the awakening process, extra checkups and higher vitamins intake. Outside the weather pairs up, as the sun shines weakly between gray clouds and the wind toys and messes with the leaves of the trees in the yard. 

The first to stand up is Giorno, who turns to Ari and Rohan with a small smile —one that shows just how grateful he is to have them around— and, laying his coat over Lena's sleeping form, the Don gestures upstairs, trying to say he's gonna check on the twins. 

Walking around the couch, he pets Ellie's head, carefully not to hurt or distract her from the TV. Then, as he walks by Ari and Han, he leans over, whispering: “Giuseppe should be in the kitchen. Feel free to ask for anything.” Without waiting for a response, he keeps going, though a bit faster. Rushed. 

Exchanging a puzzled look, Rohan mumbles out, “Do you think…?”

Looking back at the stairs, where Giorno's just disappeared, Ariel hums thoughtfully. “Dunno, maybe he just thought of something?” 

Looking on, Rohan presses his lips together for a moment, focusing on the characters in the scene, “He seemed uncomfortable.” 

Sighing, Ari imitates her husband without realizing, deep in thought for a second. “Whatever it is, I'm sure he'll talk about it later. There's a lot happening… He must be exhausted.” 

“Right.”

***

Giorno's not sure how or why. But back there he could feel something —the arrow restlessly moving around like it did back when Wire Requiem awakened: paired up with that, the skin of his shoulder and scapula started to sting, the feeling reminiscent of that of a tattoo healing process. 

But he's sure he doesn't have tattoos on his back. At least not for now. 

Coming into their shared bedroom, his hands quickly reach back, grabbing the fabric at the back of his neck and pulling off his shirt, letting the fabric hang from one of the sleeves around his wrist, using a hand to hold the shirt close to his torso. Walking up to the bathroom, he stands before the mirror, taking a look at the tattoo on his chest. It looks fine —lines perfectly healed and the ink intact. Green eyes trail over his arm, skin clear and intact, too. 

The itch comes back, stronger: it makes him turn sideways, peeking over his shoulder to take a look in the mirror. 

His eyes land on the star-shaped birthmark between the top of his scapula and his shoulder. The color is the same, he notes, and as he runs a gentle fingertip over it, the sting becomes unbearable, makes him hiss through gritted teeth: despite that, he still touches again, making sure the texture hasn't changed, trying to see if there's something around it—tissue or rash—though nothing seems to have changed, except for the fact that it stings like hell. 

Stopping to think for a second, his mind runs over the possible, momentarily, solution. Tapping it like he usually would do with an itchy tattoo is not an option: fabric doesn't exactly hurt. However, his skin feels hot, almost like it's upset. 

Tapping on the faucet in the sink before him, his palm forms a cup, where he waits until a bit of water pools. Then, using his palm, he makes sure to tap gently in the zone, feeling the sting calm down for a bit until it disappears, leaving back the faint sensation of pain. 

Should I tell Lena? She's gonna find out sooner or later… But lately she's been so sensitive. Maybe not. Maybe Rohan or Ariel could help, or… maybe Bocelli? He's a doctor, if anything he should be the first to know and let me know if there's something wrong with me. But right now doesn't feel like the right time. I want to see Dan and Jojo healthy again.

Sighing and reaching out, he makes quick work to dry his hand and wait until the few drops of water dry so he can put his shirt back on, and finally, leave towards the twins' bedroom. 

Knocking on the door and coming in without expecting an answer, Giorno stands in the doorway, eyes overlooking the scenario before him. 

Dr. Bocelli stands up from the desk, where he had been writing notes. “Son, we have great news.”  

“Oh?” Eyes lighting up, he comes into the room, closing the door behind him. Once he's standing before the three doctors —Bocelli, Rebecca and Joshua— his hands entwine behind his back, waiting for them to speak up in a mix of excitement and anxiety. 

Dr. Rebecca Louis takes a seat by Bocelli's side, a small and professional smile lifting the corners of her lips. “We're starting to notice improvement on the treatment. The fever is finally coming down.” 

Before Giorno can reply, Dr. Joshua López speaks up, relaxed now that his dear friend is there with him (after being told the Don was not going to hurt him). “If we keep going like this then we think they should be conscious and alert by evening.”

Nodding, Gio takes a quick look at the clock in the wall behind the team of medical professionals: 2:21 PM. 

Looking back, he makes eye contact with every single one of them, “Six hours, then?" 

Dr. Bocelli replies now, calmer —his voice tired, barely hiding the relief behind his words. “It's only a supposition. See,” gesturing at the sleeping boys, the old man keeps going, “Their expression has softened and they're actually sleeping and resting now. When fever is that high, the body works only to protect itself, especially the brain. Now that we've managed to get a hold on it, they should be able to adapt after their cells have mutated and settled down.” 

Sighing, Giorno's lips slowly but surely turn up into a smile, the green of his eyes softening to a teal shade and his shoulders relaxing. “Thank you.”

Bocelli gestures vaguely, a grin spreading through his features. Warm, like a father would smile and comfort a pained son. “It's our duty, Giogio. Go tell your wife and friends, they must be so worried and exhausted.”

“I think I’ll call down and see if everyone can join us up here.” 

Pulling out his phone, Giorno calls Rohan, inviting everyone up to the twins’ room for a status update. In a few minutes, everyone has gathered and Giorno repeats the same information told to him, while Ellie holds Ari’s hand and stares at the twins. 

Walking towards them slowly, Ellie hops up onto the bed, crawling between Dante and Jovi and grabbing one hand from each of them. Leaning over, Ellie presses a gentle kiss to Jovi’s face, then Dante, and lays down, squeezing their hands. “S’ ok.” 

Closing her eyes, Ellie rests quietly, still holding the twins’ hands and starts to fall asleep, comfortable between them.

The monitors that had been keeping track of the twins’ heart rate (which had been slightly elevated during the entire stand fever), finally even out and slow. Dr. Louis, who had been observing carefully, walks to the twins and feels their forehead, noting that their temperature has decreased even more. 

In a whisper, she smiles up at Rohan and Ari and says, “We need to keep an eye on Ellie’s stand powers. I have a feeling she inherited a bit of both her parents’ skills.”

Lena raises an eyebrow, walking over as well. “She’s not…?”

“No.” Dr. Louis shakes her head. “Only early stages, but there’s faint traces of stand energy.” 

Standing, she walks to the Kishibe’s. “Perhaps we can get a hold of a pendant for Eliana. We’ve been researching how to slow the stand awakening ever since my own daughter’s experience. There’s a special type of meteorite that seems to affect the body’s energy fields on the same wavelength as the stand virus. It’s not a permanent fix, but it would keep her from awakening too early.”

Rohan looks over at Ellie, sleeping next to the twins. “Please. We would be grateful.”

Ari speaks up next, “Our friend Sunnie at the Dallas SPW branch has a special interest in minerals and rocks. I’m sure she could help us find the right stone if you give us the information.”

“I’ll send it to you right now.”

Walking over to the desk, Dr. Louis boots up her laptop and searches her files before taking a screenshot and texting it to Ari’s cell phone. “There. Let me know what Sunnie finds.”

“Han, come with me?? Ellie will be safe up here with everyone watching her…”

Reluctantly, he leaves the room with her, going to join the call with Sunnie and Dio.

***

“Here.” Stopping before Giorno's studio, Akashi holds the door open. “The bosses gave me orders to stay in with you, if you don't mind.” 

Shrugging, Rohan steps aside, letting Ari walk in first before he follows, taking a look around the studio: it's big and spacious, with the proper lighting and white walls barely noticeable due to the bookshelves all around. Taking a quick look, one can realize the books there go from history and economics to anatomy and philosophy. Almost like there's a bit of everything in there. The desk is clean, only a Justitia statue on the right. 

Coming in last, Akashi hums, closing the door behind him. Hands inside his pockets, the swordsman sways from side to side as he walks, leaning beside the window on the left. “I take it you don't mind, then. Go on, I won't interrupt.” 

“Thank you.” Sitting on the couch, Ari pulls her phone out, checking her connection and battery first as Rohan roams around, stopping once the manga collection comes into sight —a few Bleach volumes, followed by the Jujutsu Kaisen volumes up to the most recent… And there it was: Pink Dark Boy.  

Reaching out, his fingers ghost over the first volume, nostalgia bringing back memories from those days when Pink Dark Boy was just starting to be a thing… Back when the idea of a family wasn't there yet, let alone a wife. Now his life had changed for the better and he couldn't be happier: if there was truly a benevolent god, then— 

“Ah, yes.” Akashi's voice cuts through his inner monologue, making him snap from his daydream. “Don Giovanna's truly a fan of your work. Every time there's a new chapter he stops everything to read it and comments on it with the Donna.” Chuckling, the short pink-haired swordsman gestures around the manga collection Rohan's standing before. “They've been waiting for a fanbook, too.” 

Opening his mouth to reply, Rohan stops and his smile stays there as Akashi keeps talking so fast he almost can't grasp everything he's saying; 

“Which makes me think of that one anime movie that got lost in the 80's, ever heard of that? Man, it was so good, such a shame it didn't make it to the public!” hands on his hips, Akashi tilts his head aside, “I can't remember what it was called, but then again I've been through a lot of places and met a lot of people. That makes me think of the time I met Stan Lee and didn't even realize: so I was roaming through the streets, okay? Fresh out of a shower, and this man was waiting to cross the street—Wait, why don't you just read me, Kishibe-sensei?” 

“Read you?” Frowning, Rohan takes a step forward, cautious. “How do you know about my stand?” 

Akashi shrugs, his tone so natural it almost sounds like a weather forecast. “The Intelligence division makes us read a report before every mission: and if there are updates, we read about them too.” 

Raising a finger, he stops Rohan from talking. 

“No, Non, Nein: it's not me you should get mad at, that should be Fugo's fault. Actually, that should be Giovanna's fault, 'cause he's the boss and all that. Uhm, I think…” raising a finger to his lips, he taps against it twice, mumbling to himself. “I shouldn't have said that, if he finds out he's gonna kill me: but it's not like I'll stay dead so…” Letting his arms fall at each side of his body, Akashi finally shrugs, finishing his rant. “Yeah, man's crazy and I'm just doing my job… And I'm bored.” 

Before Rohan can react or say anything else, Akashi's Cheshire cat smile disappears, replaced with pursed lips and dull eyes as his chin tilts up forward. “Your call's starting, Kishibe-sensei.” 

“How…?”

Ari motions Rohan over, waiting as he pulls over the nearby ottoman and stares at the screen. Sunnie’s number is already in, the call ringing a few times before finally picking up, revealing a very pregnant Sunnie in the arms of her lover, Dio.

“Hi!!! Ari! Rohan-sensei!!!”

“Hello!” Ari waves, giving her a grin. “Sorry, did we wake you??”

Sunnie shook her head. “Nah, just lazy morning snuggles with D… Pretty sleepy this many months along with the kid.”

“Of course…” Ari smiles, watching them for a minute, then remembering the purpose of the call. “So we’re in Naples here with the Giovanna’s right now because the twins are going through the stand fever…”

Dio’s eyes go wide, staring intently at the screen. “Are they alright???”

Rohan leans over, nodding. “They will be. They’re doing much better than this morning.”

Reaching his arm back to rub over his Joestar birthmark, Dio winces, feeling the familiar sting that has been radiating off the mark since this morning. He hadn’t made any connection to the current situation until now. 

“How… How is Giorno holding up?”

Ari seems surprised for a second, then purses her lips, holding Rohan’s hand tighter. “He’s doing his best. Trying to be strong for his family. But it’s… It’s hard for everyone, seeing the twins so sick.”

Dio nods, reaching for his wife’s hand as well. “I know it may not mean much yet, but. Please tell GioGio and Helena that we are thinking of them.”

Both Ari and Rohan nod, giving a small smile to the camera. “We will.”

Chuckling, Sunnie leans into Dio, closing her eyes as she holds the bump. “I assume this wasn’t just a social call? What’s up?”

Ari pulls up her phone, tapping into her and Sunnie’s messages. “I actually have something I need your help with. A rare mineral. I’m sending you the stats now.”

“Oooooh!!!” Sunnie bolts up at the mention of rocks and dives for her phone, eagerly poring over the image and documentation Ari had gotten from Dr. Louis.

“Whoa whoa whoa, it looks like cosmic honeycomb!!!” Sunnie shows the picture to Dio, then zooms in on the specifications. “Does this relate to the stand fever at all??”

Ari nods, closing her phone. “We need a pendant of some form for Eliana. Dr. Louis says that the structure and materials interact with the same wavelength as the stand virus. Because the stand virus comes from a rare meteorite, they’ve experimented with other meteorites’ influence on it. This particular one acts as a safety net, masking the stand user’s energy signature and slowing down the manifestation process.”

“That’s cool as fuck!!” Sunnie grins, setting her phone down on the bump and listening as Ari finishes.

“Yeah! It won’t stop the process completely, not that we’d want to, but it makes the stand awakening a bit easier. Dante and Jovi’s came on so suddenly that we didn’t have any warning. We don’t want that to happen to Ellie, if possible…”

“I’ll hunt around with some local collectors and see if they know where to get something like that. Imma text you when I know more… Anything else before we go?”

“Nah, that’s about it. You doing okay?”

Sunnie laughs, holding onto her stomach. “Yeah. I’m okay. This watermelon of a baby is wearing me out though, and we still have another month or more to go…”

“We’ve been there.” Ari smiles, wiggling her fingers at the screen. “Get lots of rest and snacks and fresh air.”

Dio points towards the table, puffing out his chest. “I always have snacks covered, you need not worry about that.”

“You do, D.” Sunnie pats his arm reassuringly, kissing his cheek. “I can always count on you.”

“Do you…” Ari hesitates, grabbing the edge of her sweater. “Do you think you two and Giorno will get to meet sometime soon? I know the SPW Dallas incident was too soon to meet, but… Getting it over with might calm some of the tension for both parties. I hate to see both of you so anxious whenever the other is mentioned…”

“When the time is right.” Dio nods, tapping a clawed-finger on his thigh. “Perhaps after the child has arrived, we can make plans.”

“I understand.” Ari bites her lip this time, reaching a pinkie finger out for Rohan to hold. “I can promise Don Giovanna and his wife are amazing. They’re some of our closest friends, and even though the Don seems intimidating, especially when his stand is so powerful, they’re unlike anyone else on the planet. I think you would be really proud of your alternate universe’s son.”

Choking back emotion, Dio nods solemnly, pressing a hand to Sunnie’s stomach. “I do not doubt that, but I would like to welcome my own progeny into the world first, then make amends with the son fate has given me. One step at a time.”

Rohan sighs, looking up at Akashi. “I think we have to go soon, but thank you for sharing your time with us. And Ari means no harm or prying, I know. We all would be grateful if the various Speedwagon Foundations can work together.”

“Do not worry.” Dio lets out a small fanged grin. “I have more experience dealing with human emotions than in the past. Sunnie has been letting me view a show called ‘Bluey,’ and I have found the family dynamics and discussions most helpful.”

Rohan chuckles, shaking his head. “We haven’t watched that one yet, do you think Ellie would like it?”

Sunnie’s face immediately fills the tablet screen, leaning in, excited. “SHE WOULD LOVE IT, YOU HAVE TO WATCH BLUEY!!!!!”

“I’ll add it to our list!” Ari smiles, waving at the screen. “We’ll talk again soon, okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah!!! I’ll get on the pendant right away.”

“Thank you. We really appreciate your hard work.” 

“Nah. It’s fun for me. I love this kinda stuff.” Sunnie wiggles on the couch, excited to get hunting.

“Still, thanks…” A moment of silence passes, and Ari laughs, leaning forward. “Okay, we should probably hang up.”

“Probably. Who’s gonna say goodbye?” Sunnie laughs too, used to the neurodivergent urge to keep talking and never end the conversation.

“You first.”

“No, you.”

“Oh, wait! I have a post I need to send you, hang on!!” Ari grabs for her phone, scrolling through her dashboard.

“Okay, well, send it in a minute, I’m hanging up!!”

“OKAY, BYE, I LOVE YOU!!” Ari grins as the screen blinks out, returning to the home screen. Petting her hair gently, Rohan leans over and plants a kiss on Ari’s forehead. She hums, standing and pulling him up next to her. “Glad to see they’re doing okay.”

He nods, slipping an arm around her waist then glancing over at their chaperone. “Akashi?”

The pink-haired man glances up, his hand on the doorknob. “Yes?”

“Can you go update the Giovanna’s with the conversation? Ari and I are going back to the room for a bit.”

“Do you need an escort?”

Rohan shakes his head no, pulling out Heaven’s Door. “I have backup in case of emergencies.”

“Right, of course. I’ll go now and make sure they know the gist of everything.”

Ari walks forward, clasping one hand over the other, addressing Akashi. “Don’t hesitate to let us know if Ellie wakes up and needs something. We don’t want her to be too scared, even though she knows everyone pretty well.”

“Yes, Mrs. Kishibe. We’ll let you know.” Giving a small bow, Akashi slips out of the room, communicating with Fugo on his way back to the Giovannas’ room. 

Ari and Rohan, meanwhile, step into the hall, navigating the mansion maze until they find their way back. Slipping into their room, the couple lays on the bed together, staring up at the ceiling fan as the cool air washes over them and Ari shivers.

“Rohan... Where do we even start from today?”

Rolling over, Rohan quietly sits up and puts one leg over his wife, straddling her hips and laying down onto her chest, his face gently smooshed onto her breasts and talking with a slightly muffled voice. 

“There’s a lot to untangle… The new stand powers and just. The unknowns. The future.” 

Rohan closes his eyes, planting himself face first into her chest until he needs air, then tilting his head back out with a gasp. Ari chuckles, petting his hair quietly and whispering to him. 

“I think it’s worse sitting with this anxiety. Knowing we’ll pretty much be powerless over the process.”

Nodding, Rohan finds Ari’s hand and laces his fingers between hers. “If we both fought through the stand virus, then we know we’ve given Eliana her best chance. Hopefully we’ve transferred some genetic ability to adapt to the stand mutation when the time comes. She may be sensitive, just like her parents, but she’s also strong.”

Rohan leans up, making eye contact with Ari. “Neither of us would be here right now with manifested stands if we didn’t have some fighting spirit.”

Smiling gently, Ari pushes Rohan’s headband up and kisses his forehead, wrapping her arms around him and sighing deeply. “We can help guide her and make sure she’s healthy, but we can’t manifest a stand for her. That’s part of her own story to write.”

Scooting up a little, Rohan puts a hand on either side of Ari, as her hands still drape around his neck. “It’ll all work out.” He leans down, pulling a soft kiss from her, then kissing across her face–one cheek, then the other, and over her nose and eyes, taking his time. “We have all the time in the world right now…”

Smiling up at her husband, Ari pulls him closer, finding his lips again and slipping a hand into the back of his hair, dragging her nails though his undercut, making him break the kiss and inhale sharply. 

“Ari–” Rohan’s voice comes out in a warning whisper, frozen in the moment.

“Yes?~” She has a mischievous glint in her gaze, teasing and toying with him, even after their serious moment.

Rohan sighs, giving in easily. “Just try to keep quiet~” 

***

He’s been alive for a long, long time. He’s been and seen too much, has felt too much pain, both emotional and physical: his whole existence has consisted of traveling around the world, bored and alone, seeking something to cure his loneliness and the strange, bone-chilling question that keeps plaguing his mind. 

Akashi does not remember his full name at all. He isn’t sure if his last name is actually Akashi, or if it had been one random name he had picked along the way. For decades, he had been roaming the world, learning and watching, lost until that day he had finally had enough and decided to lay down in Rome’s streets, where Abel had met him. 

Abel Agreste, Rome’s Capo, had reassured him his boredom could be solved by Don Giovanna and his Passione, and though that was true, there was still an ounce of the feeling remaining, like he had become addicted to boredom like one would turn sadness into a necessity. 

To him, emotions and vulnerability did not come easily, both from his backstory in the war and the culture and period he was born in and now from his reputation: but even then, a few persons knew about his doubts and worries: one of them, perhaps the most compassive and pure man he had ever met before, had always been open to listen to him: Bocelli Enzo, the man who had killed his son’s assassins and had gave up on his medical ethics, turned Passione’s doctor and probably the boss’ most closest thing to a father. 

Bocelli had said his brain was damaged, both from the constant fights —where he didn’t care about hurting himself— and the psychological trauma his stand kept causing with the constant death and coming back to life loop to the point of causing something he had called dissociative amnesia. 

To him, his only hope was Kishibe Rohan: ever since he had read about his abilities on that report, his hopes of finally knowing his identity had resurrected, though it seemed nothing he said about his past experiences arised the mangaka’s curiosity.

Then again, the situation wasn’t the best backdrop for getting his wish fulfilled. Maybe someday he could ask for a favor…

Knocking on the door to the twins’ bedroom, Akashi clears his throat up as he twists the doorknob, standing awkwardly on the doorframe for a second. 

“Akashi?” Giorno calls from his spot on the couch by Jojo’s bed, “What’s wrong?” 

Blinking twice, his smile comes back and though he notices Giorno’s knowing look, he still plays along, “First off, just saw Dio Brando and for fucks sake, you’re a carbon copy of him, but like, with green eyes,” walking forward, he takes his hands out his pockets, gesturing around vaguely as he starts to explain. “So, it seems like little Ellie will get a nice pendant to keep the stand fever controlled, or that’s what I understood from all that: keywords are meteorite and pendant. And again, boss,” taking a seat by Lena’s side, Akashi finishes with a: “You and Dio Brando look almost the same. But like, your sons look like you so that must be a family thing. Oh, and he sent his well wishes for the twins’ recovery.” 

Nodding, Giorno brushes off the comments about his father, not knowing exactly how to reply or feel about them and, as he looks at the twins, his frown softens and he replies. “Got it, thank you.” 

Taken aback by his response, Akashi slowly looks back at Lena, eyebrow arched and mouth agape.

“Be patient with him, ‘Kashi.” Lena whispers, leaning a bit to meet him. “That’s not something he can talk about yet.”

Nodding, Akashi brings his right hand up, imitating a zipper over his mouth as he closes it, leaning back into the couch. 

Silence settles in, strange: the calm it brings feels unsettling, but still, the brief moment doesn’t last long before Giorno speaks up, soft and calm: 

“We should probably get one for Esmeralda too, Lena.” 

Rubbing at the bump, Lena nods, feeling a foot meet her touch —a warm smile spreads through her features, much calmer and at ease than before. “Agreed. We’ll talk about that once she’s born.” 

“Well, my hunger was born first,” Standing up, Akashi swiftly cuts off the conversation, “I'm gonna go and ask Giuseppe for something, maybe some paella.” turning around and extending a hand out to Lena, he asks, “Want something, boss?” 

Chuckling, Giorno gestures forward when Lena looks at him, his words warm and calm. “Go on, honey, you need to eat.” 

Taking Akashi’s hand to stand up, Lena grins, returning the gesture. “I’ll go, but after I’m done you’ll have something too.” 

“Okay, deal. Akashi, take care of her.” 

Guiding her to the door, Akashi nods, “Yeah, yeah, I will!” 

***

Coming into the kitchen, a high-pitched voice with a bit of an accent welcomes Akashi and Lena. “Good afternoon! How can I help you?” 

Giuseppe De Niro, the occasional chef for the Giovanna family, a middle aged man with big brown eyes and dark hair kept up into a hair net grins from the other side of the kitchen as he covers a bowl with cling film, hands in his hips and a patient look as he waits. 

“Giuseppe, Giuseppe, oh Giuseppe~” faking a pout, Akashi comes closer, retrieving a chair from the bar and holding a hand out for Lena to sit down. Then, as she makes herself comfortable and he's sitting before the chef, his hands rub at his stomach. “I really want some paella, think you can do it?” 

“Of course,” nodding, Giuseppe turns to Lena, a much gentler look thrown her way. “What about you, Donna? Is there something you're craving specifically or…?” 

“Mhm,” leaning her chin on the palm of her hand, she tilts her head aside, thinking for a second: “I'll have the same.” 

“Sure. It should be ready in twenty, if that's okay?” 

“No worries,” gesturing with her free hand, Lena gives him a warm smile, watching him turn around and start working. By her side Akashi has quietened, eyes glued to the granite bar. 

Passing an arm behind him, her palm rubs at his back in circles, whispering; “What is it?” 

“Uh?” Looking back, his pink orbs drift between her eyes frantically before his shoulders slump down and he sighs heavily, smacking his head against the countertop, voice muffled when he speaks up. “I wanted to ask, I really did, but… I don't think this is the right time.” 

Rubbing at his back again, she looks forward, watching Giuseppe work for a while. Her lips part, and by the time she looks back, Akashi's already sitting straight with the skin of his forehead red and his eyes wide open, like a wild cat. 

“Akashi,” she starts, “Wire can read the memories of your soul, but only when you've passed away, which is something you can't do… But, uhm, what I'm trying to say is I would help if I could. But I can't.” 

Sighing, Akashi rubs at his eyes. “I know, that's why Kishibe's the only option. But in this situation, with reality collapsing and all that, it's dangerous to try. Even I know that.” 

Looking forward and accepting the glass of water Giuseppe offers to each of them, Lena replies. “But this won't be the last time you'll see him. Besides, your problem was caused by your stand: the Foundation would gladly help. I'm sure I can make a request for the Morioh branch.” 

Setting his empty glass down, Akashi looks back with eyes full of hope and his usual smile back: “Okay, but promise I won't be an experiment like that time when—” 

“Yep.” she cuts him off, gesturing for him to stop, “That's not happening again.” 

“Eureka!” throwing his arms up, Akashi grins, pointing at Giuseppe, who's just turning around to set both dishes before them. “Giuseppe, celebrate with me!” 

“Uhm,” imitating him, Giuseppe mirrors his words and movements, though much less enthusiastic, since he didn't understand the context. “Eureka?” 

“Yeah!” taking a napkin and turning to Lena, Akashi nods twice, excited. “Thank you, boss! And Giuseppe,” turning to him, he bows, taking the first bite of his food and talking with his mouth full. “This better be good.”

Laughing, Giuseppe nods, turning back to start with another recipe, “I can assure you it will. Anything else I can do?” 

“Yeah,” Lena replies now, “Could you send some food to Fugo and the rest?” 

“Sure!” turning to her again, Giuseppe leans on the bar, setting his chin on his hand. “Any special menu?”

Humming, she toys with the fork in her hand, “Lasagna and gelato? Everyone's working hard so… They deserve it.” 

Nodding, Giuseppe takes a pen and a small notebook from his apron, quickly writing down. Then, he looks back, eyebrows arched. “What about the Don?” 

Cheeks warming up, she lights up considerably at the mention of her husband. “He'll come after we're done, he's with the boys.” 

“Is that so?” leaning back and leaving the notebook aside, Giuseppe twirls the pen with the fingers of his right hand, “I'm looking at him right now, though.” 

Immediately looking back and finding Giorno under the doorway, Akashi gasps and gulps down, hitting his chest so the feeling of food restricting his airway goes away —hand reaching out to Lena, then pointing at Giorno dramatically. 

Turning around, she gasps, cheeks turning a deep shade of red as he walks into the kitchen and looking at Giuseppe, he says: “I'll have spaghetti alla carbonara,” then, as he comes closer, his hand cups her face, thumb rubbing over her cheek before he sits down by her side, draping an arm around her shoulders. 

“Who's with the kids?” she asks, setting her fork down.

Accepting the glass of water that Giuseppe sets before him, Gio takes a small sip. “The medical team and Vivianne. Ellie's still asleep and the twins' heart rate has come back to normal.” 

Sighing relieved, Lena nods, finally calm enough to start eating. By her side Akashi leans over the bar, looking at Giorno. 

“So, Giogio. I know I said it before, but Brando really seemed… Interested, worried, or just… With the intention to be present in your life, when Mrs. Kishibe mentioned the boys' fever. I think he means well.” 

Eyes softening and shoulders relaxing, Giorno meets Akashi's eyes. “I know. But, as much as I want to meet him… It seems like the time will not come soon.”

Shaking his head, the pink-haired swordsman presses his lips into a fine line and when he speaks up, his voice has a certain nostalgic tone, “The time will come when it has to. Don't rush it. Just wanted to let you know that this Dio… Is much different than the one described in reports and anecdotes.” 

Giorno's mind drifts to Jotaro Kujo —the troubled and uncomfortable relationship with him, tense and always weird. He could only wonder if he knew about the Dallas Board from the start. No, he could wonder if they got along or if they were still trying to fight. But again, it looked like there was someone keeping him from doing all the things Prime Dio would. 

And that was probably Sunnie. 

“Earth calling Giorno, earth calling Giorno!”

Blinking, he looks on, eyes landing on both Akashi and Lena's worried looks as the swordsman sways his arm from side to side, grinning when he finally seems conscious. 

“Your food's ready, boss! Eat before you pass out, I'll go back to Abel.” standing from his chair, Akashi bows in Giuseppe's direction as he leaves, hand resting atop his katana handle.

“Thank you, 'Kashi!” Lena shouts, watching him go. Turning to her husband, she chuckles, noticing the sauce left on the corner of his lips. Taking a napkin, she wipes his lips carefully while he chuckles, letting her help. 

“I got you, baby.” 

Food goes by between sweet conversations and bright smiles. Soon, both go back to the twins' room, making sure everyone's eating. 

As they sit down, Giorno's eyes drift to the clock in the wall: 6:16 PM. Hopeful, he looks on, knowing the wait is almost over. 

A faint whimper makes him look back, eyes immediately noticing Eliana rolling to the side and slowly, her small aqua green eyes open up, finding the world before her. 

Brushing her hand across his arm, Lena stands up before he can, approaching Ellie with a warm smile and slow steps, “Hey, baby. Are you hungry?” 

Sitting up, Ellie looks around her and, unable to find her parents, her eyes fill with tears and she whimpers, looking back at her aunt her voice comes out tiny and heavy with sleep. “Mama? Papa?” 

“Hey, 's okay.” Sitting down on the bed, Lena reaches out for Ellie, helping her sit with her. “They're here.” a gentle hand combs through her hair, trying to make it look somehow better and letting Ellie grasp her hand. 

“Where?” the little girl asks, looking around the room frantically, still coming out of her sleepy state and disoriented. As someone stands up from one of the couches, Ellie looks at them intently until he comes near and his face seems familiar. 

“Hey,” Westwood whispers, kneeling before her. “I heard there's a princess waiting to be taken back to her castle?” 

Ellie looks back, finally recognizing Lena and the rest of the team, tears still there, though her fears long forgotten. “Auntie!” 

“Yeah!” Grinning, Lena turns to West, then back at Ellie, “He's here to take you to mama and papa! Like a knight!” 

Intrigued, Ellie scoots off the bed and hops down, slowly approaching West. “Knight?”

Following along, Westwood takes his mask off, bowing down with an exaggerated gesture of his hand. “Princess Kishibe, if I may take you to King Kishibe's castle?”

Ellie finally plays along, jumping excitedly and bowing too. Westwood stands up, offering his hand to her, and exchanges one last look with Giorno and Lena, making sure to shield Ellie with his stand, then guide her out of the room.

“Princess Kishibe, the road ahead holds multiple dangers, may I carry you there?”

“Mhm! Up!" Extending her arms out, chimera-san still in tow, Westwood's chest swells with happiness as he takes her into his arms, fixing her hair and outfit the best he can and, as he walks down the hall, he makes sure to wipe her tears and improve her mood to the best.

Stopping before the Kishibe’s door, he knocks twice, feeling his face warm up as soon as Rohan swings the door open, headband around his neck and hair disheveled.

“Ellie!” he says, surprised. Reaching out, Ellie quickly reaches back to him, leaning forward and jumping into her father’s arms.

“King Kishibe,” Westwood starts, ignoring Rohan's confused look, “Now that I've brought the princess back, I'll keep working.” Turning around, he almost runs back, hearing Ellie's laughter.

Closing the door behind him, Rohan grins, setting her down. “Well then, princess? The queen must be waiting for you.”

Already sitting up in bed, Ari reaches out, helping Ellie climb up onto the covers. “Princess, huh?~”

“Yes!! Knight helped!”

“Well then,” joining them, Rohan shares a knowing look with Ari, “We should make sure to properly thank him later.”

8:18 PM. Giovanna household.

“This is not a drill, everyone who has an earpiece must take it off and turn the volume up in ten seconds. Ten, nine, eight.—” The sudden message startles those with an earpiece: la unità and la squadra’s members freeze in their spots, doing as told right after: there, Fugo’s voice comes up after the robotical voice from before, his tone neutral despite the scary message.

“We’re experiencing an unknown threat.” He stops, as if trying to find a logical explanation to his words. “Time has stopped. Please seek immediate shelter. The Kishibe’s must be protected. All Capos close to the twins’ room must arrive and follow Don Giovanna’s instructions. Do not leave the property before we know what’s happening.”

The message ends there, leaving behind confused looks and pursed lips: trembling hands and fear creeping up spines and nervous systems.

“How does he even know?” Paolo mumbles, standing up from the grass in the yard, “If time really stops then we wouldn’t even be able to do anything. Hell,” taking his mask from his pocket, the scientist toys with the fabric, “Motion wouldn’t even be possible.” putting it on, he fixes the fabric around his mouth and nose until he’s sure it’s perfect. “But it’s not like stands care that much about physics.”

Coming into the mansion, the first thing Paolo sees is pure chaos —Vivianne and the other members of la unita rushing upstairs, Fugo coming out of his office with his laptop, Abel and Akashi preparing their weapons in the corner and last, Vittorio at the top of the stairs, hands behind his back.

The latter, as soon as he notices Paolo, points to his right. “Paolo, with the Kishibes. Someone will join you soon. You know our orders, right?”

Jogging upstairs (having to take it slower or straight out stop to prevent accidents) Paolo finally reaches Vittorio's side, stopping only to reply in a whisper. “No one can ignore the magnitude of this event, Vittorio. It's bizarre.”

Watching him turn down the hall, Vittorio looks forward, mumbling to himself. “That's the perfect word to describe the situation.” Giving one last look to his team and husband, he leaves to take his position outside of Giorno’s studio.

Soon, some of the members from la unità and la squadra stand around the twins' room, some around the mansion and others in the halls —Fugo has moved to Giorno's studio, Abel and Akashi stand by the main doors, katana and gun in hand ready to attack, defend… Or die.

In the room, nothing has changed, the medical team running around the room performing tests and monitoring the boys as their vitals even out to normal. By the toddlers' sides, both their parents sit, waiting and hoping.

Someone speaks up and the sound only has a few of them turning, anxious:

“Donna, shouldn't we keep you company somewhere else? What if…” Rubbing his hands together, Pietro looks down at them, staring at his wedding ring. “If something happens and we have to fight… Then we should prioritize you, because I suppose you shouldn't fight in your—”

“Mommy?”

Giorno's look makes everyone quiet down as the tension grows and the mystery remains unsolved. Still, Lena looks back at Jovi, melting at the sight of his grabby hands and reaching out to help him stand up, her eyes follow every movement as the boy holds onto her shoulders —soft pink cheeks and sleepy green eyes, hair (that had lost its curls months before, remaining as wavy strands now) disheveled and skin finally back to its fair tone.

“What's wrong, baby?” Mumbling her question, Lena keeps her hand on Jovi's back, watching through calm and loving eyes as the toddler fiddles with one of her curls, shy and tired still, seeming to struggle to find the proper words.

The boy looks back, letting go of her hair and instead, he blinks slowly, mumbling his question: “Cuddles, mommy?”

With a hum, Lena makes him turn sideways and sit on her lap, wrapping an arm around his back and using the other to keep his IV attached to the back of his hand, passing the IV tubing above her shoulder. Cradling his head close to her chest, she starts humming a tone, slowly rocking back and forth, feeling his tiny hands hold on the fabric of her dress.

Pressing a kiss to his forehead and using the momentum to look around the room, Lena nods in Giorno's direction. His tense shoulders relax and he stands up slowly, hands shaking but still he walks up closer, sitting before his wife and younger son. His left hand reaches out and his fingers run through his hair. The boy sighs deeply, the kind of sigh that shows just how comfortable and warm he is –safe in his mother's arms with his father watching over him and his brother.

Sighing, Gio stands up, turning to Dante and, taking him in his arms, he makes sure to cradle his head close to his chest —a habit both had ever since the first time he held them. Almost like they always sought his heart in order to sleep peacefully. As Bocelli makes sure the IV remains in its place, Dante stirs awake, blinking up at Giorno and, through his exhaustion, he smiles.

The action makes Giorno chuckle, caressing the toddler’s cheek with the back of his hand, “Hey, buddy. Missed you too.”

Dante hums, hand unconsciously grabbing into Giorno’s coat: voice tiny and sleepy eyes, he asks: “Daddy?”

“Hmm?” Sitting besides Lena, Gio exchanges a quick look with her, then looks back at Dante, who’s observing his twin intently, as if trying to make him look back.

Dante looks back into Giorno’s eyes, his own full of hope and innocence, the kind only a child could ever show and then he asks: “Piano man?”

Jovi stirs awake too, almost as if he hadn’t been asleep and blinking to try and get the tiredness off his eyes, he still tries to join the conversation, eyes lighting up upon the mention of the song that has become his and Dante’s favorite ever since they heard it on his father’s office while Giorno was signing a few documents.

Surprised, it takes a moment for Giorno to react —looking back at Lena, she’s still looking between them, worried and scared, maybe thinking the worst, the possibilities of any kind of brain damage during the long episode of fever seem to come to her mind. Still, he retrieves his phone from his pocket, finally catching her attention. There, and even if his hands shake and everyone’s looking at them, he opens the app music. Scrolling through his library, his mouth runs dry and he can hear his heartbeat in his ears. Every now and then, the boys look around the room, slowly waking up and recognizing those around them.

Sighing, the realization that he could just browse through artist, album or song title strikes him and, feeling his cheeks burn, he taps on the search bar icon atop the app menu, typing the first letters of the song title until it pops up, displaying song name, album, artist and year.

Piano Man. Piano Man. Billy Joel. 1973.

Taking a deep breath, he taps on it and soon, the first piano notes start, followed by a soft harmonica that seems to reply to the piano, syncing into a peaceful and melancholic melody. The boys sway from side to side, warm smiles and tired eyes closing for a bit as the song starts and Billy starts to sing.

Looking up, Giorno smiles, finding Lena’s eyes filled with tears and grinning as the twins relax in their arms, not quite understanding the depressing undertone behind the song, that was probably inspired by Billy Joel’s attempt to get out of a bad record deal —not realizing the people mentioned there are all real people he played for as the piano man, whom everyone relied on to get over their daily life sadness and problems.

Dante leans forward and Giorno uses his arm to prevent him from falling, allowing him to lean closer to his twin. Reaching out, Dante finally touches Jovi’s arm, catching his attention. Jovi, conscious, smiles back at his twin, holding his hand like they’ve always done.

Right as their hands meet the room spins, lights flicker and then it stops.

There, everything happens in a flash: the twins' hands slowly pull apart until there's a space in between them. In the middle of that space, green, blue and golden sparks spin around an invisible core, slowly absorbing into it and forming a small black mass —slowly, the mass starts to shift, becoming much larger and white, displaying a black dot at the top that slowly grows and takes its own shape. By the time it stops growing, the shape remains as a rectangular, long piece of wood with one single black line in the middle. Though there’s no mechanism, the object still clicks and then it’s back between the boys’ hands, held by them and connecting them, too.

Giorno blinks confused, unable to name the recent event, move or even think.

Frowning, and still as shocked as her husband, Lena takes the object from them, making sure they’re still listening to the song, detached from the object that has just… Materialized.

“A piano key?” turning it around, she frowns, then looks back at Giorno, giving it to him.

Inspecting it closer, Giorno hums, finally out of shock. Slowly lowering his hand, he ponders his words for a second, finding it impossible to keep holding his supposition for longer. “I think… This might be their stands. Remember the prophecy?”

She frowns, the prophecy coming to her mind right there: almost like she had learned it word by word, until there's something that does not match the situation: looking into her husband's eyes, she frowns, lips parting until Fugo speaks up through Pietro’s earpiece:

“Time has resumed. I repeat, time has resumed. It's ten o'clock. Everyone please get back to your previous positions until the twins—”

Reaching out, Giorno takes the earpiece from Pietro and taps on the side of the small device: the action activates the mic and Giorno replies, out of breath even if he’s sitting. “Fugo, I want Paolo here. Now. The time thing was related to their stands.”

“What?”

Giorno’s jaw tenses and he mumbles his answer through gritted teeth, “Aren’t you looking at the cameras?” He takes a quick look at the twins, watching them still enjoying the last part of the song then at Lena, who’s turned paler and hasn’t stopped looking at him: like she's terrified.

Walking up to them, Bocelli reaches out for Jovi, noticing Lena’s expression. “Donna,” he says, taking the boy from her. “We need to make sure they’re okay. It seems they’re completely out of danger, but still, we need to run some more tests.”

“Ah, yeah. Sure.” Standing up, she still gives Jovi a smile while Bocelli sets him down. Imitating her, Giorno stands and turns around, letting Dr. Louis take Dante in her arms and set him down beside his twin. Soon, both professionals start a quick physical examination as the conversation between Fugo and Giorno still goes on.

“Giorno,” Fugo says, “The cameras stopped working when time stopped. I was trying to monitor you through your earpieces. I didn’t see anything.”

Clenching his jaw, Giorno tenses, then sighs heavily. “Got it. Then, come here and bring Paolo with you… But make sure the Kishibes are okay.”

“Sure.” The communication ends and Giorno sighs, returning the earpiece to Pietro, who stands there awkwardly for a moment, then puts it on and walks out, Vivianne and the others behind him, rushing back to their previous positions despite the plethora of questions and longing looks thrown their kids’ way.

Closing his laptop, Fugo stands up from the desk, walking in big strides to the door and next down the hall in the Kishibe’s room direction —he’s sure he almost (if not) damaged the hinges from the sheer strength he used to open the door: his confidence drops for a second as he makes eye contact with Paolo and the Kishibe family, mouth agape for a second.

“Kishibe-sensei, is everything okay over here?”

Rohan’s frown does not go unnoticed, nor does his curiosity and worry when he asks back. “Is everything okay over there?”

Sighing, Paolo turns, patting Rohan’s back and pulling back as soon as Rohan steps aside to avoid his touch. “Rohan-sensei,” the scientist starts, walking over to the door in short steps, hands behind his back, entwined, “Don Giovanna will let you know soon. As you can probably sense, things might be back to normal, but I’m positive this hasn’t ended.”

Stopping by the doorway by Fugo’s side, Paolo turns around, facing the family. “Please stay here, it’s just logical to stay safe after the magnitude of the event we just witnessed.”

Closing the door, Paolo turns to Fugo, as if knowing what’s going on —though it was just his guessing. Fugo nods, leading the way: “When time resumed, it looks like something happened with the twins’ stands.”

“Oh?” Paolo lights up, his attention completely on Fugo now. “What happened?”

Stopping before the door, Fugo’s hand stops as soon as he takes the doorknob, turning to Paolo with stern eyes. “That’s exactly what we don’t know.”

***

The room’s calm, with the medical team still observing Dante and Jovi, who are now sitting on the carpet surrounded by their favorite toys and their cat. By the left, sitting before them and watching over them, their parents —while Lena’s eyes seem lost somewhere along her sons, Giorno remains standing, arms crossed and lips pressed tight.

“So,” Coming into the room, Paolo stands beside Giorno, arms behind his back and a playful sway to his body as he speaks up. “What happened, boss?”

Giorno barely looks back as he shows the piano key, holding it between two fingers. “This happened.”

Eyes drifting between the key and his boss, Paolo grins; “I’m afraid I’m not talented enough to play piano, boss. That should be Fugo, he played in a bar for some month—”

“Paolo,” Lena calls, voice soft but still stern. “That… That thing came from them.”

“Oh?” taking the piano key from Giorno, Paolo turns it around, examining it cautiously: “What exactly do you mean, Donna? By ‘came from them’ we could think of many things. In order to give you a hypothesis, I need to know everything.”

Lena sighs, reminiscing the event: “Jovi woke up first and asked for cuddles. Then, Gio took Dante with him: he was more, uh, responsive? Active?” her hands toy with the fabric of her dress, trying to find the proper words to describe the situation, “I don't know, he just asked for their favorite song and Jovi immediately woke up. Then Gio started playing it. Dante … He reached out to Jovi and when they held hands something happened.”

“Oh? You say Dante reached out to Jovi?”

“Yeah.”

Paolo chuckles, amused, a knowing look hidden behind calm eyes —and as he speaks, his laughter only grows: “Chrono, Chrono, Chrono!” he laughs fully and carelessly, voice dropping a few octaves: tone accusing. “Prophets…”

“Yeah…” Giorno nods, still looking at the boys. “What we need to know is if we're right.”

“It depends,” Paolo says, “What's your theory, Giogio?”

Finally looking back, Giorno's chin points at Lena. “It's hers —she thinks Chrono lied.”

“Well,” the scientist crosses his arms above his chest, toying with the piano key before him. “Let's see, why a piano key, of all the things? Is there something you are not remembering? Everything has a reason.”

Both fall silent, and while they're still looking on deep in thought Paolo hums to himself, sitting with the boys. “Don't worry, I have plenty of time.”

Lena's the first to talk, slowly turning to look at him. “It's a piano key, because their favorite song features a piano. Now, I don't think that's what we should be thinking about. Remember the prophecy?”

Paolo hums, leaning his elbow on his thigh and his chin on his closed hand, eyes drifting between Passione’s bosses. “I understand you might be worried and confused. But it is important, at least for me: everything has a reason when it comes to these things. It’s science. Now,” looking back at Jovi, then at Dante, he starts explaining his hypothesis.

“I think the song acted as a trigger —have they ever seen a piano before?”

Fugo speaks for the first time since he got there, voice calm but still holding an ounce of anxiety behind. “I’ve played for them. So, yeah.”

“Good,” Paolo nods, “Then, that means they’ve seen and are familiar with piano keys. They might not know how they work or the material they are made of but one thing is for sure: they know that’s a piano key and that’s the thing that can play their favorite song.” Looking up, he meets Lena’s eyes, then Giorno’s: “Now let’s take a quick look at the prophecy, hm? I’m pretty sure both of you learned it by heart just so you could be sure everything happened like Chrono said.”

The couple nods, and he gestures at them to go on.

Giorno takes a deep breath: “Reborn and Rebuilt. Reborn for Dante and Rebuilt for Jovi.”

Paolo nods, raising a finger to interject with a question. “Who touched who and happens to be the one that creates matter?”

This time, Lena replies, voice tiny. “Dante’s Reborn.”

Paolo hums, “Then that means Dante was the first to react, and Jovi’s Rebuilt just responded to its counterpart —which means…”

Giorno sighs, sitting on the couch beside Fugo. “Chrono said both stands would awaken in October or November, but wouldn’t be active until they turned seven.”

Silent, Paolo nods, fully knowing what this means —the rage of those two. Cold, scary and explosive, held back by stern eyes and calm faces.

The thing that comes, however, is something completely different: while Giorno’s still looking down at the floor Lena speaks up, softly: “Thank you, Paolo, Fugo.”

Fugo stands up, as if knowing he’s dismissed without having to be told: Paolo follows and as they leave, Dr. Bocelli’s words react their ears:

“They’re out of danger, boss.”

As the door closes and the medical team leaves for a break before packing everything, the family in the room remains in silence as the twins drift back t o sleep, tired but no longer ill; safe and healthy.

“Helena.” Giorno mumbles, reaching out for her hand as he sits by her side, his eyes clouded by the strands of wild hair that fall on his eyes and the shadow that forms due to the low lighting in the room. “Are we on the same page?”

It takes a moment for her to reply, but when she does he’s sure he’s never seen her so angry yet so calm and collected —like she’s holding it all in for later, when the time comes to unleash. “We are, babe. I think we should ask Ari and Rohan to watch over them for a bit.”

“Hm?”

Lena looks back at him, brown eyes darkened and lips in a straight line: though her brow remains relaxed, the tension in her voice is enough for him to know her true feelings, the turmoil of negative emotions she’s holding in. “We’re paying a visit to our favorite prophet.”

The smile that curls his lips up screams danger —the kind of smile only his enemies have seen: wicked and horrifying. “Oh, I’d love that.”

***

“I’m serious, Don Giovanna!” standing in the living room with his phone clutched in his hand and a deep blush across his cheeks, Dr. Joshua López plants himself before the much taller mafia boss, “I can’t accept this! It’s too much!”

Giorno looks back —and down— at the man, a much calmer expression now that he and his wife have talked and planned out their next move, and giving a small smile to the man before him, his hand comes up to rest on Dr. López’ shoulder. “It’s never enough when it comes to my family’s well being.” Looking up and in Dr. Louis’ direction, he makes sure to look her in the eye as he finishes with a: “We will be forever grateful with you. If you ever need something, I’m positive we can help.”

Dr. Bocelli speaks up from the couch, his cane between his legs and a cup of tea in his hands. “Please accept the money, Joshua, Rebecca: they're really grateful for your help: for traveling all the way here to see the boys. Right, son?”

Giorno chuckles, dropping his hands at each side of his body and shrugging, he nods: “He’s right. That’s the least we can do, but I’m serious —if you have a problem, we can help.”

Walking over, Dr. Louis sets her hand on Dr. López’ shoulder, a reassuring tone to her voice as she speaks to her friend. “Just take it, Josh.”

“Agh,” sighing, Joshua nods, looking at Giorno in the eye, then at Lena —who has been sitting by Bocelli’s side— and hums. “Thank you, it was a pleasure to work with you.”

This time Lena replies, “Of course, Dr. López. Please let Director Arroyo I’m forever grateful for his help.”

“Of course, Donna.” Bowing one last time, Dr. Louis and Dr. López leave the mansion with Vittorio and Abel behind to escort them all the way to the airport: there, another group of Passione’s soldatos would keep track of them until both arrive at their homes.

As the door closes behind Abel’s back and Akashi stands aside, Paolo walks downstairs with Rohan. The latter seems tense, maybe angry as he comes to stand before Giorno with both hands tightly curled into fists and his jaw in a straight angle.

“Mind telling me what’s going on, Giovanna?”

His question doesn't bring anything new to Giorno —sighing, the Don turns around and walks back to his wife’s side, sitting down in the couch armrest. Gesturing upstairs, he says: “Bring your wife and daughter, then. Ari needs to hear this, too.”

Ari speaks from the upstairs, carefully walking down: the absence of Ellie has Rohan frowning before she explains, “Ellie fell asleep for the night. I have the monitor with me.”

Reaching the living room and walking up to the couch, Ari’s hand finds Rohan's, gently coaxing him to sit down and listen to whatever Giorno and Helena have to say.

Crossing his arms under his chest, Giorno sighs: “Well, I guess Paolo should start with the theory.”

Clapping and standing before both couples, Paolo grins: almost like the words about to be pronounced don’t mean too much. “Turns out little Giorno number one and Giorno number two have, uh, really fucking strong and dangerous stands! I’m sure you two heard time stopped, right?”

Rohan nods, slowly, and Ariel hums.

Paolo keeps going, “So. Time stopped because while we were trying to figure out what the hell was happening, Reborn and Rebuilt were ready and functional. Do you understand what I mean?”

“Quit it,” Giorno shots back, “Just say it.”

“Right,” looking back at the Kishibes, Paolo blurts out: “Chrono lied with the prophecy. Dante and Jovi’s stands are exactly what it said, but… It never said they would be active since the awakening and active phase. We were told they would use them once they got a little bit older.”

Before anyone can say anything else, Giorno stands up, retrieving the piano key from the pocket of his jeans. “This is what they made. As you can see, it’s a nonfunctional piano key —they know this little thing can play their favorite song. To me,” he sets the piano key on the coffee table before Rohan and Ari, standing before them. “It means the more knowledge they have, the better their creations will be. Knowledge and experience will directly mean they will be dangerous… The thing is they’re still kids, barely starting to live. This is not something we considered before.”

The prophecy shared with them months ago comes to mind and, as Rohan looks down at the piano key and reluctantly reaches out to it, Ari looks back. “Do you mean Chrono was right with the matter creation thing?”

Giorno nods, lips pressed in a tight line. “Yes.”

Rohan sighs and speaks up now. “If Chrono lied… And you didn’t expect this, you must be angry.”

A dark chuckle leaves Giorno’s throat, rumbling through his chest and making Rohan look back through big eyes and tense shoulders: by his side Ari reaches out for his hand, unconsciously gripping at it.

“You have no idea,” he says, leaning back and passing a hand through his hair, then goes back to his previous posture, expression back to normal. “We’re planning a visit tomorrow.”

“So we were wondering if you could stay and watch over Dan and Jojo while we’re gone.” Lena speaks now from her spot on the couch, taking the cup of tea Akashi offers. “We understand you’re still tired from the flight and a lot of weird stuff happened today, but we’d leave in the afternoon. Just so we can rest, you know.”

Ari nods, still holding onto Rohan’s hand. “I know Dan and JoJo are still resting a lot, but we’ll make sure to keep them company. Is there any worry about them using their stands now that they’re active? Should Rohan use Heaven’s Door to temporarily disable their stands until we know more?”

Glancing down at Ari, Rohan raises an eyebrow. “Is that something that’s on the table?” He looks over at the Don and Donna next, waiting for a response.

The weight and weariness of the past few days is evident on the couple’s faces, but Giorno remains steady, thinking the request over. “As is often repeated in the community, stand users attract other stand users. With the boys’ stands manifesting this early, they would undoubtedly be in more danger. I am willing to let you seal them, Rohan, but we need to carefully consider the phrasing and how much we limit or allow.”

Rohan nods, pulling a small sketchbook from his pocket. “We can modify the language of it as much as we need before I write it in them.”

“Let’s work on it tonight so we don’t have to worry about it tomorrow. We don’t know if the new stands have any auto-defense mechanisms or not, so we’ll have the whole team on standby if necessary.”

Ari raises her hand and pulls Hearts out, saying, “I can use my lights to calm them down too, if you need it.”

“Giogio and I can each hold a twin too, to keep them more calm.” Lena adds, holding her stomach.

Looking over, Giorno gives her a sad look, holding a hand to her stomach. “Helena. I know you want to be there. But if anything does happen, I prefer to keep you and our future baby safe. I know it’s not in your nature to sit things out, but would you want to watch over Eliana along with Akashi?”

Eyes filling with tears momentarily, Lena nods. “I’ll do whatever we need to keep everyone safe.”

Ari walks over, wrapping her arms around Lena’s shoulders from behind and holding tight. “Why don’t we all get some food together and work on the phrase? I got Ellie some applesauce and waffles and yogurt earlier, but I don’t think anyone else has eaten much since lunch.”

Giorno looks up, finally smiling a little. “We could do pizza tonight.”

Rohan nods, standing. “I know Tonio’s recipe for a good mozzarella tomato salad too, if you’d like any help.”

***

It's late —past two in the morning, dark clouds visible through the curtains as chilly air blows past and into the Giovanna's mansion living room. The moonlight and the sounds of the night work as a natural melody for the two men hunched over the coffee table between mugs and energy drinks.

“Master,” Heaven's Door calls, hand carefully set on top of his user's shoulder, where his thumb rubs gentle motions over the tense muscles as he overlooks the men.

“Hm?” blinking slowly, Rohan leans back, wincing as his back cracks and the pain is momentarily relieved: green eyes heavy with sleep but still holding determination.

“I believe we're ready.” The stand says, pointing at the messy words written in the paper before them, then at Giorno —who's not in a better condition, purple bags under his bloodshot eyes, lips dry and hair slicked back after hours of thinking and working on the correct, most effective phrasing.

Looking back at Giorno, Rohan hums, reading over the orders once more and then back at Giorno with an arched eyebrow. Sighing, he reaches up for his headband, slipping it down and letting the fabric hang around his neck, words mumbled out in a quiet, exhausted tone. “If you agree, Giovanna, I'll go get Ari.”

Giorno hums —deeper, like the stress has finally worn him out. Reaching out, he pulls the paper sheet to him, reading over one, two, three times before he nods to himself, looks back at Rohan and Heaven's Door and nods firmly. “Yeah. But. I was thinking… Maybe Gold Experience Requiem can, you know, help.”

“I don't think I get it—” frowning, Rohan's fingers massage his temples, a funny small undertone to his words. “Justify your answer.”

“Mhm,” Leaning back, Giorno winces as a short sensation of numbness sets on his lower back and disappears almost immediately —and still he replies, slowly as he thinks about his words and the proper way to phrase his reasoning. “Goldie can…” he looks up into the ceiling, almost like it has the answer: after a moment, he looks back, eyes drifting between stand and user: “He can disband other stands, to put it simply —it's far more complicated than that. But I think it can work. Make everyone's work easier.”

Tapping his pen against the table, Rohan and Heaven's Door fall silent for a moment before Heaven looks back, golden eyes shining under the artificial light. “But Hearts can help calm them down.”

Standing up, Giorno smiles, turning and walking up to the closest window: “Figured you'd say that. The thing is you'd keep them calm, yes, but we don't know how aggressive, responsive and alert Reborn and Rebuilt can be. Let's remember we're just seeing them. Anything can happen.” turning his back to then, Giorno keeps talking, hands entwined behind his back and voice low, barely audible for Rohan:

“I'd hate to see anyone hurt.”

Sighing, Rohan smiles, pretending to not have heard Giorno but knowing his words will let the Don know he did. “Okay then, Mr. Protect Everyone. I'll get her.”

As he leaves the living room, Giorno's voice reaches his ears:

“Go, Romeo, go.~”

Chuckling and shaking his head as he leaves and walks down the hall, Rohan turns on the corner, stopping on his tracks as he comes face to face with Westwood and Ari. The frown that reaches his features tears a small chuckle from West, who stands aside and gestures to Ari, voice a gentle warm tone: “She couldn't sleep so I offered to take her here, Kishibe-sensei.”

Nodding as a 'thank you' Rohan steps closer, hand reaching out to Ari's shoulder as Westwood leaves down the hall (probably going to check on Giorno), leaving them alone.

“Hey,” he calls gently, tilting her chin up with the pad of his index from his free hand, “What's wrong?”

“'s nothing,” Ari mumbles, wrapping a warm hand around his arm, “Just worried.”

Rohan's features relax and his lips curl up into a calming, soft smile: “Everything's gonna work out. We made sure to think of everything.”

“I know. Just anxiety…”

Taking her hand and guiding her forward, Rohan's eyes soften as he looks back at his wife. “Fear and anxiety makes us human. It's natural to feel it.”

Wiping a stray tear, Ari nods, looking back with a soft, tired smile, “You're right.”

As they reach the doorway, Giorno's sitting in the couch with his head between his palms —and as soon as the sound of their footsteps alerts him of their presence he straightens up, playing it off with a quick look at Ari and a: “You don't have to do this, Ariel.”

Walking in, she shakes her head no, sitting before the Don with determination shining behind her eyes. “I want to.”

Giorno smiles, dimples slightly standing out: “A warrior, huh? Well,” standing up, he walks up to the door, stopping only to say: “I'll go get the boys. This room is far away from the others so if something goes wrong, my team will have more space to move around and protect you and act. Please prepare.”

Sharing a look, the Kishibes nod, watching the Don leave with Westwood following him —the flicker of his shadow and the sound of air blowing outside leave behind a mysterious, scary silence.

“So,” Westwood starts once they’re in the hall, hands inside his pockets and eyes glued to the ground. “Are you really ready to show your stand, boss?”

The answer comes after a long silence, right as they reach the stairs: “What are you trying to say, West?”

Chuckling, Westwood shakes his head: “You shouldn’t answer a question with another question… I guess I’m just wondering if this is really the right moment.”

Giorno hums, thoughtful, “Rohan and Ariel know little to nothing about my stand, but… If it’s about the boys, then it’s the right time. Besides, everyone I trust has seen my stand and knows about his powers: I believe our situation calls for it, too.”

Reaching the top, Gio stops and turns around to face his friend and bodyguard and only there when Westwood stops before Giorno does he notice the exhaustion on his features, not masked anymore.

“West,” Giorno says, eyes dull, “Trust is not a bad thing.” His hand reaches out, landing on Hysteria's user shoulder and applying minimum pressure, as if trying to comfort him. “I know you don't always know who to trust, but I can assure you Kishibe Rohan and his family do deserve our trust and protection.”

Chuckling, Westwood nods, raising a hand to pat Giorno on the shoulder with a quiet: “Got it, got it.”

As Giorno turns around and keeps walking, Westwood speaks up again, though this time quieter. “You're showing your stand as a thank you, then.”

Grabbing the doorknob to the twins bedroom, Giorno nods. “Yeah. But Rohan and Heaven have been curious about Goldie for a while now —you can call it a demonstration.”

Stifling a laugh, Westwood shakes his head, mumbling one last “So you're just getting cheeky~” as they come into the room, coming face to face with Abel and Akashi.

“Shhhh,” Akashi starts as soon as he spots them, raising a finger to his lips: “They're asleep.”

Nodding, Abel steps in, blocking the light coming from the hall from reaching the sleeping toddlers, “Is everything ready?”

Sitting by Jovi's bed, Giorno mumbles out: “Yes.” then reaches down, taking the boy in his arms, lifting him up carefully until he's cradling his sleeping son against his chest. Standing up, he turns to Carvelli. “Could you take Dante?”

Doing as told, Westwood imitates Giorno and as they're standing ready, Abel comes closer with two small blankets, draping each over their shoulders and into the kids to keep the light from hurting their eyes and waking them up.

“There you go,” he says, forcing himself to smile even if he's anxious, “Don't want the Donna to hear them cry, right?”

Giorno nods, though the mention of his wife brings a short sensation of pain to his chest —to think of her crying and worrying as she watches over Ellie brings uneasiness and sadness to him. But still, he nods, imitating Abel with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes nor makes his dimples stand out. “Right. Could you two go and stay with her?”

“Of course, Giogio.” Clapping, Akashi runs out between giggles, waiting outside for Abel.

***

Paolo Aparigi is a scientist. He believes exclusively in evidence and science —anything else, like religious dogma and superstitions must prove themselves.

Stands are science, he knows: because their existence is related to medicine and said discipline is science and biology coded. His own stand demands his understanding and attention on scientific matters, but even with his years of sitting behind a desk reading, writing and his vast experience dealing with other stands and stand users, nothing could compare to the physical pressure requiem stands could inflict.

He could only describe it as funny: the amount of ridiculously oppressive pressure a requiem stand could inflict was nothing to joke about.

A quick look around the room and he's sure everyone's just as affected as him—shaking hands, dizziness, tiredness and probably more than he can see.

Gold Experience Requiem has been standing in the corner of the room, big pink eyes staring from his spot as Giorno and Westwood stand in the middle holding the twins who are still asleep, with the rest of La Squadra and Unità around them: the process had just started and though he is the closest to the door, he still can't bring himself to leave even if Giorno did say anyone could leave if they couldn't take it.

The voice coming from the corner, of that being close to a god, makes him stand straight and look forward when he speaks:

“Kishibe Ariel, use your stand, please. I will not attack or affect your powers.” His hand rises up forming a fist and the pressure in the environment decreases like he willingly dropped —or overturned— his abilities like some kind of electromagnetic field to allow her unrestricted movement and space.

Through shaking hands, Ari leaves her husband's side, approaching Giorno first: Hearts on Fire pops out after a moment, almost like her user struggled to call her. Reaching a hand out, Heart's hand rests gently on top of Jovi's head, combing his blond wavy strands back. A blue aura soon emits from Hearts’ forehead and stomach eyes, glowing through her crystal heart as well and surrounding the stand and the boy, who sighs in his sleep and sinks further in his father's arms.

Gold Experience Requiem turns to Rohan, eyes boring into his soul and a hand gesturing forward with a “Go ahead, Kishibe Rohan.”

Standing up from the couch, Rohan curses under his breath as dizziness kicks in for a second, then makes his way over. With Heaven's Door peeking over his shoulder in Goldie's direction, both stands share a look before Heaven turns back to Jovi, raising his hand, swiping open at his forehead and stops to look back at Giorno.

The Don's eyes show his pain and exhaustion: the hurt from seeing this. Still, he nods, lips tightly pressed into a line and eyes dull, from their usual tone to a darker one.

“Sorry, Giovanna.” Rohan whispers, right hand shaking as he holds the pen and writes down the command:

‘Reborn and Rebuilt will not work, passive or actively, unless my life or my brother's are in danger and we are unprotected.’

Nodding, Rohan makes sure to deactivate his stand on Jovi, reading over the command and letting his skin turn back to normal when he's satisfied with the result. Then, he moves on, now before Westwood and Dante. Quietly, he watches Ari repeat the same process: using the blue light and letting it sit for a moment before he's allowed to come closer.

And repeating his own actions, he still mumbles his apologies to Giorno, hands shaking by the time he's done.

The room stays the same for a second —the sounds of crickets outside suddenly disappear and Paolo tenses, noticing the two silhouettes barely forming behind Giorno and West.

“Don't move.” Gold Experience Requiem says, pink eyes staring right into the two beings: there, he watches over both. The one coming from Dante, a completely white humanoid being with a clear hose down his arms, connected to a core in the middle of its chest —the other, the one behind Jovi, has the same humanoid form and white skin with only one clear hose in its left arm, connected to his back and ending at the top of his right shoulder. Both vibrate, with the one coming from Dante producing something that circulates inside the hoses relentlessly.

As both their hands materialize and reach out to the other, Ari's stand reaches out again, setting her hands atop the twins' heads and, as the first wave of blue light comes out in waves, both stands disappear and the edges of the pages in their foreheads disappear.

Finally deactivating his powers, Goldie overlooks the room: everyone's panting and sweating, completely exhausted. And so he says: “We're done, Master.”

“Thank you, Goldie." He says, leaning back.

Before he disappears, Goldie bows, leaving behind the faint smell of honey and flowers.

Sitting up straight, Giorno looks back at the Kishibe's, blinking slowly –like a cat, though his action comes from his exhaustion. “Thank you.”

Helping Ari sit down as La Squadra and Unità slowly take their seats in the couches, Rohan nods, taking slightly longer to reply as he sits on the floor between Ari's legs, leaning his head on one of her thighs. “Yeah, 's okay. Jus' make sure they're okay.”

***

As they stop before the door, Akashi and Abel tense. With the latter still offering his arm for Lena to hold on, the Capo and soldato look back at their boss: she's quiet, brown eyes bloodshot from all the crying and tiredness. Her hand rubs over the baby bump and the other grips Akashi's arm, staring straight into the door. Anxious and tired.

The door opens suddenly and Giorno's there by the other side, a towel draped over his shoulders, damp hair and pajamas on. Taking a step out, he offers a hand out to his wife, talking to his men with a small, reassuring smile:

“Thank you, Abel, Akashi. Go get some sleep.”

Letting go of Akashi's arm, Lena remains silent as she takes Giorno's hand and both men leave.

In silence, both come into their bedroom.

Guiding her to the bed, Gio's silent as she sits down, eyes welling up with tears as she looks over the sleeping twins in the middle of the bed, surrounded by blankets and pillows in an attempt to keep them from falling down.

“Hey,” he calls, setting a warm hand on top of her cold ones, leaning down in order to do so, “We succeeded. Their stands are sealed: they won't be used unless there's no one to protect them.”

A sob cuts off the silence —reaching out, Lena holds both of his hands between her shaking ones, quietly crying and trying her best to hide her face from his view. With a “Hey,” Giorno moves, kneeling before her, trying his best to warm her hands with his. “It's okay. They're healthy.”

Another sob and she reaches out, arms open and face red and swollen: the image breaks his heart. Coming closer, he wraps both arms around her, rubbing her back as she holds onto him, mumbling her answer against the crown of his head:

“I'm just glad it's over,” wiping her tears with the pads of her fingers, her smile slowly brings a small pink blush to her cheeks, “Knowing they'll be playing soon. Running around the house, asking about their sister. I'm so happy…”

Pulling back, Gio grins —relieved and calmer— looking up at her. “I'm sure they will keep going like nothing happened. We will talk to them if they ask, but I think we should keep this information from them until they're older and mature enough to understand.” his hand reaches out, cupping her face gently, tone shifting to one quieter and warmer. “I was just going to fill the tub for you, do you want to take a bath or leave it for tomorrow?”

Leaning into his touch, Lena hums, rubbing a hand over his arm. “I don't think I have the energy for a bath, maybe just a quick shower. Creating a baby is hard, you know.”

Laughing, Giorno pulls back to untie her shoes, tossing them aside and standing back again, a warm, tired smile her way as he walks into the closet to retrieve clean clothes.

Looking back, Lena reaches out to Dante, then at Jovi, tracing their faces with the pad of her finger. For a second, as the sounds of Giorno walking in the other room and the quiet night surround her, her attention remains only on her sons, studying their faces and making sure they're safe: counting down their fingers, making sure their freckles are still there —even running her hand over their hair and checking the color of it. The same type and color as their father's.

“Okay, I got you my hoodie and clean panties —” stopping before her after coming back from the bathroom, Gio goes silent, waiting until she looks back, sighing in relief when he notices her calm expression, keeping on. “Do you need help showering?”

Shaking her head no, she stands up, slowly and only after looking back at the boys, Lena walks over to Gio, taking the towels from him and pulling him in for a short kiss. “Be right back, babe.”

***

The bathroom door opens slowly. Blinking the sleep away, Gio looks up into the direction he knows the door is: there stands his wife, wearing his hoodie and putting a wild curl behind her ear.

“Hey,” she whispers, slowly walking up to bed. “Sorry it took so long, I needed to dry my hair first.”

Nodding, Giorno stands up, quickly circling the bed and offering a hand to help her up into the bed. As she makes herself comfortable, he pulls the comforter up around her hips. Then, he retrieves another comforter from the top of his side of the bed, mumbling:

“Guess we won't share the comforter today. Gotta keep them safe.”

She hums, watching him climb on his side and lay down, propping himself up into his elbow.

Both of them look down at the sleeping twins —deep asleep, like nothing happened and it had just been a long day playing and running around the house.

Slowly looking back, Lena's mouth opens slowly to ask in a whisper: “Where…?”

Looking back, Giorno blinks slowly, understanding her real question almost immediately:

Where did he write the command?

Raising a hand, his finger comes closer, almost touching Dante's forehead, right where Rohan had written the command: “Here.”

She nods, thoughtful. Perhaps calmer than before. Then, she slowly settles down, mumbling: “And I guess Ari helped too?”

“She did.”

Sighing, a soft smile lifts her lips up. “They're so good to us.”

He follows her eyes, watches her blink slowly, staring at the spot he signaled earlier. Her question does not come out, though he knows she really wants to ask: like she's afraid of even mentioning the topic.

Slowly opening his mouth, Giorno's warm hand reaches out, gently coming to rest against her hip with a whisper intended to reply to her unspoken question:

“Goldie saw their stands. Not completely, but I know he could see some small details.”

She looks back, lips pressed into a line and a quiet hum. If she wants to talk more, he's sure the topic will come up again tomorrow, when both have rested and calmed down.

He watches her eyes close and her hand reach out, holding Jovi's hand and, before he gets the chance to say goodnight, he knows she's already asleep.

Sighing, his own eyes start to close as his mind runs quickly over the recent events: before reaching a conclusion, sleep begins to overcome him.

At least now, compared to around thirteen years before, he's surrounded by everything he's ever wanted but didn't know he needed: a family and friends.

[fanactfict]

"Global South"-PM Modi. 

Collective title for colonised nations.

How charmingly clever. 

So I'm watching Viceland Radio Hate 24hrs after finishing Billy Summer the 2020 novel by Stephen King, another assassin premise where the lone wolf titular character is part of an organised hit that turns sour. Head's up, I sped read through this work.

Next up program, WWE legends. *Spoilers*

Stop reading here if you intend to read the novel.

The story is really 3 parts. The first story is Billy getting set up to kill Joel, a bad man already incarcerated and probably facing the death penalty for multiple murders and sexual assault. The hero, and he is in character, has a double identity or rather treble identity so he can shooter in repository style while await in an office block for the target to appear outside the opposing courthouse, while Billy does this he also becomes Dalton, writer and friendly neighbourhood good fellow. He rents the office by day and lives in the burb's by night. He trusts no one, every interaction he's working the angles.  This is a job afterall all.

Second part sees, young gang raped woman, Alice dumped outside Billy's hidey hole where he's gone lamb after the job goes south. Turns out media mogul very bad man, pedophile infanticide filthy rich WWE old creep, wanted Joel shot down on news time TV for shits and giggles. 

Billy's writing a book throughout the story that reflects the pacing and story arch of the story. The love for writing comes through as more than passion but also as a vehicle for escapism and means to bring fantasy to life through self serving narrative, expression. You can do so and become anything in the literary world of creative writing, hello God. Trump is mentioned early on, because topical. Tweeter's will be on board with what's going down.

I was disappointed to find I'd been strung along to the penultimate climax of King imaginatively killing a Trump like figurehead. That distaste runs deep, yeah, but doesn't mean the reader wants to pay for the privilege.

Alices victimhood, the repeat mention of her raping and the garishness of the account and reiterations made me uncomfortable. I had to skim that stuff. Yuck.

Overall the story felt contrived and the pacing was off. The first part of the book, King intro. Alt version of 11/22/1963 from the writer perspective. Second part, gross. Billy and Alice grow into one really. Third part, well, I'd already checked out after grater ass happened.

“Sometimes stories cry out to be told in such loud voices that you write them just to shut them up.” — Stephen King

[the-firebird69]

Watch "The Fog (1980)" on YouTube

They look like that because they're sucking off people that are normal and it's a certain group of Max and it happens to them quite often not sure why but they keep letting their guard down it keeps happening to them it's not our clean or Ben's it's one of these Vikings for real and they're affected a little but not that much and they get captured quite a bit and having a war with them so she decided to try it and she's a pig of course it looks a lot like her and he says it's not normal for them to look that close and it's true I mean it's almost right on when she was younger and she's older in the next movie which is only an hour away or something he said also the shipwreck is important and he thought it might have been a boat they do show a ship and it is one of the ones from pirates of the Caribbean and we think it is the Black Pearl and they do get super nice and it looks like they do get shipwrecked and drowned and somehow possessed or half dead or something and they go around hitting people and it's nearby Pasadena it's just towards the shore

Mac he says it too there's hardly any woods and this is your idiots always find where the woods are and you get nailed they get nailed ridiculous this idiot is still fooling around the computer and he's almost dead and it won't shut up it's possessed he's possessed

This is a part of a series and it is the fog and I'm in it and this is my character sort of smell like one of them going around as me but I show up and I start hacking them apart and she gets a cat attacks quite often and it's not Jason it might be it but I think it's my boat and it's the egg harbor and you can see it on shore so I think they're a little muddy but they're hiding it and it does go to New Jersey and shortly after this and it's not the boat you see in the video Billy Joel and it's smaller than mine and he's giggling cuz he tried to get away with saying its his

Hera

As I was saying earlier this is a series she is in it but there's like five of the fogs and it's about her boat which is not out here and they didn't bring it out there he thought he saw it but it's not no it was here and they brought it there and it's part of where it's supposed to go it's really supposed to go back east Amber symbolic for his trip today went out there and as a female screwing around with the idiots and saying it so they were together again too and when they're in the pickup truck they're talking about stuff they used to talk about and Jolene was saying that dumb stuff. But it's really an analogy and they're trying to get their schedule going and it's the max and they're using these idiots and they're going to figure it out eventually when there's not many of them which is really backwards and it doesn't make any sense except there people won't let them do stuff or think and they're crazy

Bitol and Goddess Wife

Our friend says it's not worth it we don't really think of things that are worth anything but it's true too but we're losing the army they forgot what the stupid code is and we attacked the New England and it turns out to be Tommy F and that's what loses your army is about for some reason this one doesn't care about it and he says there's all such people fighting them but we'll see the ships will watch and people fight those so The beat goes on

Trump

I don't want to be in any more movies and here I am having a decent time with what looks like Melissa I wonder God and yeah that was my wife's sister this morning saying stupid s*** out loud he's like I'm going to do my laundry and crosstown have a nice day and f*** off I did figure out something once you spend some money here something like put some effort in a little

Dan

[lasantha2305]

THE WORTH OF THE WORLD IN GOLD -

"I Like Humanity, but I hate Humans", - Said once, Albert Einstein.

The message says it all. I sat in my living room, hearing the daily bulletin of the day's breaking news. As a routine ( here it goes, please bear with me ! ). Reports on destructing earthquakes, terrorism, train strikes, google. Explosions, logging rain forests, forest fires, hurricanes. Polluting aeroplanes, overweight people, cholesterol, bankruptcies. Redundancies, micro-plastic in fish, pesticides in food, unemployment, depletion of natural resources, currency rates, slave workers, bitcoins, human rights in China, rocket man Mr Kim Jong Un, diabetes type 1 & 2, Cancer, Vladimir Putin, Corona liar Bolsonaro to, President Biden.

The list goes on endlessly, from North, East, West, South - NEWS! There is nothing positive on reports, news larger than life twenty-four-seven; I want to be updated; I am addicted and can't let go!

Pandemics, Panic, overpopulation, pollution and more poison. It all goes in through the ears and gets stuck in our minds. The promotion of a gloomy future — A ticking time bomb.

I want to climb Mount Everest alone, in the footsteps of Sir. Edmond Hillary, and hide there. I reflect on "We didn't start the fire" by Billy Joel long ago.

The World was safe and intact while the Chinese dragon slept before Globalisation. There was no internet, a half-bitten apple, Facebook friends, amazing Amazon (not the jungle or the river!), Google or Ali Baba (no, not the one with the 40 thieves!), and a time when people read books in the Metro!

It was an iconic song. Billy had a vision; I saw many rocking to the beat without analysing the message! All the while, the fires were spreading steadily, fueled by corruption and greed. I see the fire spreading, and the glaciers are melting out of control. My hands are tied; big brother is watching, and no one will throw the first stone! We are sitting on a train with one-way tickets, about to enter a dark hole!

Mahatma Gandhi, one of the most outstanding men ever, was killed. Martin Luther King, John F. Kennedy, Marcus Garvy, Malcolm X, and John Lennon were silenced! Why must they die so young? If those lived to face their natural deaths like everyone else, Would this World be better than it is today?

We, the masters of the universe, will fabricate news because our people lack compassion and purity. We cannot calculate the value of the Earth in monetary terms; the Earth that gives life effaces it in time as the ever-evolving evolution transfers us closer to our destiny.

I could epitomise, and it feels like I am reliving the work of Stephen King, but think positive and hope for a miracle; everything will be fine in our lifetime!

The crying Earth & other stories

[quokkacore]

phenomena | s.jn

summary: the majority of your adult life you’ve been practically married to logic and science. until your superiors at the FBI assign you to work with special agent johnny suh on the so-called x-files project—cases that were never solved due to unexplained phenomena. as time goes by, and you chase case after case, you find yourself drifting further from logic… and closer to johnny. (part of the 90s love collab)

pairing: conspiracytheorist!johnny x doctor!reader

genre: x-files!au (with johnny as fox mulder and reader as dana scully), fbiagents!au, coworkers-to-lovers, slow burn, sci-fi, angst, fluff, comedy, crack-ish at times, fakmarriage!au at the end

warnings: language, murder, eating, blood, general violence, police presence (txf is fbi level copaganda but oh well), johnny is a low key dick initially, sexual references, general american ignorance, implied sexual harrassment in the workplace, mental hospitals, reader witnesses a distressing panic attack, guns, body image, referenced child/animal abuse, repressed memories, mentions of anti-semitism & nazism, christian allusions, occultism, mild gore, slight body horror, some 90s pop culture references, i am not !!! an fbi agent so there may be some inconsistencies, suggestive content but no actual smut, Karens being thirsty for johnny, johnny is a Single Man and is Kind of Gross, both reader and johnny get knocked unconscious Several Times

song recs: gorillaz - dirty harry // john mellencamp - martha say // elton john - whitewash county // arctic monkeys - all my own stunts // kesha - spaceship // the cranberries - dreams // exo - oasis // the cure - friday, i'm in love // billy joel - we didn't start the fire // david bowie - starman // phoebe bridgers - chinese satellite // tom petty - wildflowers // selena - bidi bidi bom bom // soda stereo - persiana americana // bruce springsteen - dancing in the dark // the cranberries - linger // bruce springsteen - human touch // r.e.m - it's the end of the world as we know it (and i feel fine) // david bowie - heroes (or just listen to the playlist i made instead)

word count: 34.3k (YOWZA u should prob read this on a browser)

a/n: a fic this long......never again

X-FILE 62-J: THE PINEWOOD PATTERN

FBI HEADQUARTERS, WASHINGTON, D.C—08:00 hours, Monday, March 16th, 1992

The morning you met Johnny Suh, his glasses were crooked. It was two years after you'd started working for the FBI, and you were 28 years old. 

You'd spoken to your Division Chief—an older, balding man named Carson Brooks—the afternoon prior, just before you left home. He, along with two other men had asked you about the man in question. 

"Agent L/N, tell me. What do you know about an agent named John Suh?” 

You had furrowed your eyebrow, staring up at him. “John Suh? He had quite the reputation at the academy. Let's see… Oxford educated psychologist. He wrote a monograph on serial killers and the occult… helped the FBI catch Ezekiel Braun in 1988. He’s generally considered to be the best analyst of the violent crimes division. I’ve never met him personally. There’s a nickname for him around the division, though. They called him that in the academy, too." You had to hold back a chuckle, "Spooky Suh."

One of the men next to him nodded—a senior officer whose name you couldn't quite remember—before leaning forward. “It has come to our attention that he’s devoted himself to a project outside of the bureau mainstream. Agent L/N, are you familiar with the so-called X-Files project?”

You looked down at your hands in your lap, trying to recall where you’d heard the name. “From what I understand,” You said, looking up at the man, “They’re cases that are related to unexplained phenomena.”

Your division chief straightened his glasses. “Agent L/N, we’d like for you to assist Suh on these files. You are to write field reports and assess the validity of his work.”

You blinked, not letting your face crack. “...Am I to understand you want me to debunk the X-Files project, sir?”

Your eyes scanned the room. So far, the third man, the one smoking the cigarette had been the only one to not speak.

“Agent L/N,” Your division chief replied with a pursed smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes, “We expect you to make the proper scientific analyses required for these cases. We trust you won’t disappoint us and will be looking forward to seeing your reports. You are to meet with Agent Suh tomorrow morning.”

That had been the day before. Now, here you were, on your way down to the basement, which was apparently John Suh's natural habitat within the Bureau headquarters. The lighting was relatively low in the hallways, shelves upon shelves of cardboard archive boxes seemingly closing you in. When you finally reached the office door at the end of the hall, you rapped your knuckles against the wood twice.

“Sorry, no one down here except for the FBI’s most unwanted!” A deep, sardonic toned voice lamented. You made an amused face to yourself, before quickly composing yourself. 

Professionalism above all else, Y/N. First impressions matter.

So you took a deep breath before opening the door slowly. Your eyes scanned the room, widening slightly despite your mantras of professionalism. The man had his back to you, so he didn’t catch it, thankfully. He was too busy studying photographic slides on a lightbox on his desk, hunched over in concentration. 

But amongst those metal filing cabinets that were all that same atrocious shade of gray, the entire room was pretty much a mess—papers scattered across the desk and pictures tacked to the walls haphazardly to the point where it was hard to tell what color the wall he was sitting in front of was. Among other things, you caught newspaper clippings, pictures of bright beams of light igniting the night sky, a diagram of the human skeleton, and in the middle, a large poster. On it, a large UFO was hovering above a pine forest skyline, the words “I WANT TO BELIEVE” printed in bold, white letters across the bottom.

The man in question turned in his swivel chair to face you. You took note of the crooked glasses propped up onto his round nose, wide eyes studying you up and down. The sleeves of his white button up were rolled up to his elbows, and his tie, just like his glasses, was crooked. Still, you mustered a curt smile, urging yourself to remain professional in spite of how handsome he was.     

"Agent Suh," You declared, holding out your hand, "I’m Y/N L/N. I've been assigned to work with you."

John shook your hand, eyeing you somewhat skeptically. "Agent L/N. I've heard a lot of things. So, who did you piss off to get stuck with this old nut?"

"Actually, I’m looking forward to working with you. Division chief Brooks has asked me to do an evaluation of your work ethic and the overall project, I’m hoping we can work well together."

He pursed his lips, obviously trying to hold back a laugh. Finally, he broke into a grin. "So, they want you to babysit."

You bit back a huff as he turned to look back at his slides. Well, yes, he was right in a way, but you weren't going to admit it. Not with the slightly condescending tone he'd taken with you. Running your tongue against your front teeth in annoyance, you did your best to remain cordial. You plastered your polite smile back onto your face and crossed your arms.

"If you have any doubt about my credentials—”

“You’re a medical doctor,” He said, pulling out a folder with a clear plastic front, “You teach at the academy, did your undergraduate degree in physics…”

He looked at the blue folder in his hands. “Einstein’s Twin Paradox: A new interpretation. Y/N L/N’s senior thesis, now there’s a credential: rewriting Einstein.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you bother to read it?” Your tone had a dangerous roll to it. Already you were starting to doubt how much you would enjoy this. 

“I did!” He stood up from the swivel chair, revealing to you just how tall he was. As he walked to one of the gray filing cabinets on the other side of the room, he turned his head and flashed you a crooked smile. “I really liked it, actually. It’s just in my line of work, the laws of physics don’t seem to apply.”

John walked back over to his desk, picking up some of the slides on the lightbox and popping them into a slide projector a few feet away. You stepped out of his way as he made his way to the light switch next to the door, engulfing the room in darkness except for the lightbox, which gave the room a dim, industrial white glow. Turning back to the projector, he pressed the on button, before he looked back at you. His face had turned serious, wide eyes peering at you in the dark.

“Maybe I can get your medical opinion on this.”

Turning your head to the first slide, your eyes settled on the body of a young woman lying amongst old leaves. She was in a white nightgown smudged in dirt, and her arms were spread out as if she were waiting for someone to embrace her.

“Oregon female,” John said, “Aged 21. No known cause of death. Autopsy tells us jack.”

He changed slides, and the image projected on the wall changed to a close up of skin, two small red dots puckered up about a few centimeters away from each other. “However, these were found on her lower back. Doctor L/N, can you ID these marks?”

Walking closer to the projection on the wall, you sighed softly in thought. “Needle punctures, maybe?” You asked, “An animal bite? Electrocution?” 

“The coroner wasn’t able to ID them either.” He pressed a button on the projector, and it whirred as it changed slides. This time, it was a figure of a chemical composition. You furrowed your eyebrow. 

“This was found in the surrounding tissue. How’s your chemistry?” He asked, sounding amused. You glanced at him in dislike, then at the composition, racking your head at the sight of so many cyclohexanes. 

“It’s organic… Is it some kind of synthetic protein?”

He didn’t answer, and your mouth fell open in confusion, shaking your head. “I… don’t know, what is it?”

John laughed. “Beats me! I’ve never seen it either. But it’s also been found in Amaranth, South Dakota…” He clicked the button on the projector. It changed to an image of a middle aged man laying face down in a ditch. He did it again, and a younger man appeared strewn in the middle of the desert, eyes glazed open. “...And again, in Verona, Nevada.”

“Do you have any theories?” You asked, squinting as to avoid looking at the glare of the projector, and instead stare at him. He made his way closer to you. The light of the projection caused the image to warp and distort, projected onto the right side of his face. 

“Oh, I have plenty of theories. What I want to know is why it’s bureau policy to claim these as unexplained phenomena when there’s clearly a pattern here.”

He sighed, before stepping closer to you. He wasn’t necessarily invading your personal space. But from this proximity, caught in the light of the projector you could make out the soft flecks of amber in his brown eyes, the soft curve of his lips. “So, doc,” He murmured, voice low and raspy, “Do you believe in the existence of extraterrestrials?”

Oh boy, you thought, here we go. 

“Logically, I would have to say no. The energy capabilities required to travel through space, as well as the technology you're implying would exceed a spacecraft's—”

"Conventional wisdom," He said, raising his eyebrows. He crossed his arms, pointing at the projection. "Do you know that this girl in Oregon is the fourth person in her graduating class to pass away under suspicious circumstances?" 

 He shifted his weight to lean on one leg. “When there’s no logic, and there’s no convention, is it such a crime to turn to the fantastic for explanations?”

 You frowned. “She had to have died from something. Whether it was natural, then it’s possible the medical examiner missed something. If she was murdered, then maybe it was a cover-up, or a sloppy investigation.” 

Leaning your head forward towards him, you put your hands on your hips. “What I find fantastic is the idea that you would be willing to look anywhere except the realm of science for answers. The answers are there, you just have to be willing to look for them.”

    “And that’s why they put the I in FBI,” He quipped, sounding quite amused at his joke. He turned on the overhead lights, then made his way to sit down at his swivel chair. He leaned back against the black cushion. “So, L/N. You, me, a flight to Pinewood, Oregon, bright and early tomorrow at eight AM. How’s that sound?”

 You bit back a smile. John Suh was… quite the character, that was for sure. Smug. Intelligent. Maybe just a tiny bit off his rocker.

But you didn't really have much of a choice, and you were growing curious as well. 

 "Alright,” You conceded, “I’ll bite.”

 John grinned. “Awesome.”

You set your purse down next to the projector, before turning it off. “I’ll be right back,” You told him, “I need to go to the bathroom.”

He nodded, turning back to the files next to the lightbox.

 “And John?” You leaned against the doorway, watching as he straightened his posture to look up at you, expectant of your words. His eyes, from behind those crooked, round rimmed glasses, were poised on your frame. 

“Yes?”

“Your glasses are crooked.” You turned to exit, smiling to yourself when you heard him move, and softly mumble, “Oh, shit.”

PINEWOOD, OREGON—11:32 hours, Tuesday, March 17th, 1992

The plane touched down with only the slightest bit of turbulence. John Suh was sitting right next to you, snoring softly as you pored over the four different medical reports. The reports of the first three victims—Kaya Tate, Jisung Park, and Alex Gallagher—were basically the same word for word, other than specific physical details of the victims, like hair color, height and weight. All of them were found in the woods and were estimated to have died somewhere between one and four in the morning. Possible causes of death included exposure and cardiac arrest, but there wasn’t enough evidence to list anything. The oddest part was that of the three of them, all of their pupils were shrunken. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

 When a person dies, what occurs next is called primary flaccidity. In this state, all of the muscles relax—their head might fall back as the neck loses strength, the jaw falls open, fingers loosen their grip. And the pupils should dilate. But here, they weren’t. Not in the slightest.

You frowned, looking over the first three reports again. There was no sign of red marks anywhere. At the end of all three medical reports, the same signature was seen: Aaron Choi, MD. 

Flicking through the medical report of the fourth victim—Kaya Tate—you looked over the similarities of the other autopsies, and the one unavoidable difference: those damned red markings John had shown you yesterday. With a sigh, you skimmed over the report one last time, before one final difference caught your eye at the very end. This report wasn’t signed by one Aaron Choi, MD. No, it was signed by Hank Rodrigo, MD.

You didn’t have time to think over it much as the pilot made the announcement that the plane would be landing soon. John jumped awake at the sound of his voice. His eyes cracked open, and he frowned as if he were upset at being woken up. 

“Morning, sleeping beauty,” You greeted when he gave you a sideways glance. 

“And here I was, hoping for a kiss to break the spell.” He laughed sleepily, but you frowned as you pulled the reports off of the tray. You didn’t answer as you put them away and put the tray back up in preparation for the landing.

John stretched his back, inhaling deeply before staring at you awkwardly. “...Sorry. I’m being inappropriate.”

You shook your head, but then smiled. “Thank you for apologizing. Some guys at the bureau can be real creeps.”

He frowned. “...You’re trained in self defense at the academy for a reason, y’know.”

Rolling your eyes, you zipped up your bag. Still, you couldn’t let go of the smile on your face. Still, you put some sarcasm into your tone when you next spoke. “Of course I am.”

When the plane landed, you picked up the rental car the bureau had provided, and put your suitcases in the trunk before getting in. John drove, popping in a cassette of his that played some rock song you didn’t know the name of. 

Martha say she don't need no stinking man making no decisions for her

She don't need his money, she don't need him between the sheets

She ain't gonna sleep on the edge of the bed for no stinking man...

“Kaya Tate’s medical report was signed by a different examiner,” You pointed out, even though you knew that he’d already realized that.

“And there it is,” He said, not taking his eyes off of the road. “Those marks are pretty hard to miss. If they all had similar circumstances in the autopsy, who’s to say the first three kids didn’t have the same markings? And why would Doctor Choi avoid putting that in the reports?”

For a moment, he looked at you, and raised an eyebrow. You mirrored his expression at his implication. “So, you think the medical examiner has something to do with the murders.”

“Maybe?” He glanced briefly in the rearview mirror. “He’s a person of interest. Not necessarily a suspect. I’ve arranged to exhume Alex Gallagher’s body. Maybe we can come to some conclusion of our own—”

He was interrupted by the sound of the song from his cassette distorting, static blaring in between the music and the sound of the vocalist’s voice.

At first, you thought it was something to do with the cassette… until the windows started rolling up and down of their own accord, and the lights on the dashboard started to flicker. You felt the car even swerve slightly, despite John’s firm hands on the wheel.

Within a matter of seconds he managed to pull over and put the car in park. As soon as it had started, it was over, but as John turned the motor off, he met your eyes. He looked just as perplexed as you did. 

“What just happened?”

He didn't answer, unbuckling his seat belt. As he got out of the car, you did the same thing, wondering what kind of failure could cause a car to go haywire like that. 

Wordlessly, you watched as John took a good, long look at his watch, before walking over to the trunk and popping it up. From his suitcase, he pulled out a can of spray paint. He pulled the cap off of it and leaned over, aiming at the asphalt. You raised your eyebrows.

"What are you—" 

The sound of the paint can interrupted your words. You watched as he sprayed a big X on the street, right in front of where he was standing. Your mouth remained slightly open, unsure of what to say. When he stood up straight, he placed the can back in his suitcase, and looked up at you. Slamming the trunk shut, the both of you exchanged stares: his blank as if vandalizing forest streets were a part of his day to day life, and yours somewhat perplexed. 

When the two of you got back into the car, it turned on with no issue. John's cassette started up again on the same song. Again, you exchanged a wordless stare, the both of you now equally unsure.

“Welcome to the Twilight Zone,” John muttered, putting the car in drive. You didn’t reply.

 Hi-de-hi-de-hi, brother,

Hi-de-hi-de-hey now, Martha...

Ten minutes later the two of you rolled into the cemetery. It was an uphill slope, a small field atop it, connecting to the woods. John drove until a small, yellow bulldozer caught your eye and you pointed it out. He parked as close as the road permitted, and the two of you exited the car, ready to head up the hill.

As the two of you pulled out your FBI badges, an officer came running up to you. He darted between tombstones and stopped in front of you, pursing his lips awkwardly. You both help up your badges. "Special agents Y/N L/N and John Suh," You said.

The officer nodded sheepishly. He seemed young and rather inexperienced. "Officer Mitch Swenson. The chief couldn't be here right now, ma'am."

"Oh?" John continued walking towards the grave, which was fully undug. A crew was in the process of using a pulley to lift the coffin out of the ground. "Couldn't, or didn't want to? He didn't seem very happy when I contacted him on the phone. Didn't even tell me his name."

Officer Swenson looked down. "I'm sorry to say that he's opposed to this intervention, sir."

"Unfortunately," You told him, "After so many unexplained deaths, we're obligated to involve ourselves. If he has an issue with our jurisdiction then he can take it up with—"

A loud snapping noise stopped you in your tracks, and your head turned just in time to see the ropes on the pulley snap, dropping the coffin. It quickly began tumbling downhill, towards you. You barely had time to step back. Before you could be trampled by a goddamn coffin on what was quickly becoming one of the strangest days of your life, you felt a strong hand grip your forearm and yank you back harshly. 

The coffin barrelled right into the back of a tombstone, cracking open ever so slightly. Your back collided with John's chest. Neck craning back to look at him, you realized both your chests were heaving in shock. He was staring at the small opening in the coffin.

You pulled away from him, charging towards the coffin. John and Officer Swenson did the same, as well as some from the lifting crew.

As soon as you got within five feet of the coffin, a putrid odor hit your nose and seemed to hit everyone else's. John's hand went to cover his nose. Officer Swenson turned green. You held back a gag.

Still, despite the heinous stench, you leaned forward, trying to get a good look inside. Fully expecting to see a decaying corpse, you squinted, trying to make out the shape of the face.

"Holy shit," You heard the young officer say off to your left. Your eyes widened, just as you made out some features of the cadaver.

"Make sure no one else sees this," John ordered someone, as you made out a snout and very thin arms. As your eyes widened, John turned to you. You turned your head to him, and he flashed you an awkward grin.

"...I'm guessing he was no student athlete," He joked, scratching the back of his head. You shook your head in disbelief, face frozen in shock.

"I… is that a—?"

CORONER'S OFFICE, PINEWOOD, OREGON — 14:48 hours, Tuesday, March 17th, 1992

"A chimpanzee."

You didn't give John's unsatisfied tone much of a second thought, continuing to ensure you had everything ready for your analysis.

"You think it's a chimpanzee," John said again a few seconds later, snapping a picture of the body, which was spread out on a metal table. 

"Or an orangutan," You replied, not looking up from your tools. Pulling out your tape recorder, you finally met his eyes. "I was thinking it might even be a bonobo, but it's too big. Mammalian, that's for sure."

"Y/N, we're in Oregon! Where would someone get a monkey—why would someone put a monkey in some dead kid's coffin?"

You shook your head. "John, you can't possibly think this is anything other than a sick joke, can you?"

He huffed, too engrossed in taking pictures of the body. He looked like he had just discovered sliced bread.

"This is amazing. It—it's unprecedented… I want a full report," He demanded, "Toxicology, x-rays, tissue samples, genetic testing, the works. We can get those tissue samples and x-rays done now, everything else we take back to DC." 

You laid a measuring tape next to the subject's body, before putting your hands on your hips. 

"You’re kidding," You said, glaring at him from the other side of the table, "Try telling Alex Gallagher's family that his body was replaced with an alien. You'd probably lose a few teeth doing it!" 

John lowered his camera, taking a deep breath. He thought for a few seconds before answering. "I'm not crazy, Y/N," He insisted, "I have the same doubts you do." 

Flexing your fingers to see if the surgical gloves fit adequately, you sighed. 

"Please leave for a moment," You mumbled, "I need to record my observations and I can't do that properly if you're flashing that camera in my face and talking about little green men." 

He frowned, not meeting your eyes. He looked like he wanted to protest, but he shook his head to himself as he turned around. Soon, he was out the door. 

During your analysis, you made several observations: the subject was 157 centimeters in length, and weighed 56 pounds. Long limbs and fingers, and large ocular caverns that suggested it belonged to the ape family, as you'd told John minutes ago. It was in an advanced state of decay and desiccation. 

When you turned the subject over, you couldn't help but look at the lower back. Lo and behold, there and ready to give you a headache, were two bumps. They were no longer red, tinged gray, same as the rest of the body, but they were there.

Only when the x-rays finally developed two hours later did you discover the cherry on top: a small metallic implant in the subject's nasal cavity, embedded in the skin, which was extracted and placed in a small glass vial. The vial was placed in your blazer pocket, which you'd removed to put on the PPE gown. 

When you were finally finished with the report, you put your blazer back on and discarded the PPE and surgical gloves. All you'd managed to do was give yourself a migraine at all of the oddities piling up in this case. When you got back to DC? A bubble bath was in order. With a very, very large glass of wine.

As you approached the door to the lobby, the voices of two men arguing got louder and louder. Rolling your eyes, you sighed at the feeling of your head pounding. One sounded angrier, the other significantly calmer. When your hand was on the knob, you realized who the calmer voice belonged to.

"Shit," You whispered to yourself, flinging open the door. A middle aged man yelling at John—who looked very blasé about the whole situation—was waving his finger in his face. Behind him stood Officer Swenson, another officer, and a young girl dressed in an oversized windbreaker and jeans, who looked like she wanted to evaporate into thin air. 

"You people think you can march in here and do whatever you want," The man growled, "I don't see why—"

"What's going on here?" You asked, stepping between the man and John. The man scoffed at you, eyeing you up and down. 

“Who are you?”

You pulled out your badge and flashed it to him. His scowl deepened. “Special Agent Y/N L/N, FBI. I’m Agent Suh's partner for this investigation. Now, what is going on? And who are you?”

The man’s face twisted in disdain at your authoritative tone. “I’m Doctor Aaron Choi, the county medical examiner. Now, the audacity of you and your partner—”

“Dad, please,” The girl exclaimed, sounding embarrassed, “Let’s just go home!”

 The man waved a hand in her direction, tone dismissive and angry. “Lia, be quiet. I’m talking. The audacity you two have to come here and interrupt our procedures—”

“Doctor Choi, this is the fourth unexplained death of a student from the Pinewood High class of ‘89,” John pointed out, “After the county was unable to come up with any conclusive evidence, the FBI was forced to become involved. I take it you weren’t informed of the exhumation and the analysis of Alex Gallagher’s body?”

Doctor Choi shook his head. “I’ve been away with my family. We just got back.”

That explains the different medical examiner on the latest autopsy, you realized. 

“Doctor Choi, I’m sorry you feel that way,” You said, “But it’s our obligation to come and investigate. Now, I’m sorry, but it’s getting late, and we have to get going. I can give you my cell phone number if it were to make you more comfortable, but—”

“No. That’s quite enough,” He snapped. He turned to the young girl, nodding his head at the door. “Lia, let’s go.”

The girl sighed, and met your eyes before she turned to follow after him. She looked desperate; you assumed it was because of the scene her father had caused. The two officers followed after them.

As the two of you watched them leave, you turned to John. He simply shrugged, looking done with the whole situation. “Talk about a warm welcome,” He grumbled. You glared at him. 

“Let’s just go,” You huffed, rubbing at a spot above your eyebrow, “I still need to get started on this report.”

The two of you exited the building, and John explained that tomorrow, he’d arranged a visit to a mental institution in the town over. That there were two more students of the class of ‘89 were staying. Both of them were reportedly a part of Alex Gallagher’s circle of friends.

 In your pocket, the vial holding the metal implant seemed heavier than it had been when you first extracted it.

ALOYSIUS GRANT MENTAL INSTITUTION, CRESTHILL, OREGON—10:47 hours, Wednesday, March 18th, 1992

The wing where Chenle Zhong and Nancy Goldstein were staying was relatively quiet. As the nurse explained their circumstances, Nancy remained glued to a book in her wheelchair. Next to her in his bed, Chenle lay perfectly still, lips parted slightly, eyes wide and unmoving. 

You were informed that Nancy had developed delusions and become extremely paranoid as a result of post-traumatic stress. Chenle was living through something called a living coma. He never moved, never spoke. The only indication you saw that he was still alive was the constant rise and fall of his chest. Both of them had been in an automotive crash in the autumn of 1989, and had been like this ever since. 

“Nancy,” The nurse said softly, “You have guests, can they speak with you?”

Nancy lifted her head, “I can’t,” She answered, shaking her head. “I’m reading to Lele right now.”

“Does… does he like it when you read to him?” John asked, and she nodded.

“It calms him down,” She said, “It distracts him from everything.”

You looked down, thinking about her words and what she must have gone through—Chenle as well. At the feet of Chenle’s bed, you noticed odd specks of… ash? It was sprinkled sparsely in front of the bed, on what was a seemingly pristine floor.

You wanted to pick it up, but didn’t want the nurse looking at you strangely. So you turned your attention back to the conversation between John and the nurse. He lowered his voice and leaned in towards her, as if he didn’t want Nancy to hear. “Would it be possible for us to run some medical tests on Ms. Goldstein?”

The thing was that Nancy did hear, and at the mention of medical tests, her large eyes nearly popped out of her head, and she started to tremble in the wheelchair. “N-no tests,” She pleaded, before throwing her book to the side and raising her voice, "No tests! You can't take me there again!"

She began to thrash in the wheelchair, hyperventilating and begging in between breaths to not go anywhere. She threw herself out of the wheelchair but was unable to stand, and instead remained on the floor, crying. 

"Nancy, sweetie, you're going to be fine," The nurse said gently, leaning down to placate the poor girl who was shaking her head. She looked up at the both of you. "Can you help me please?" 

John leaned down to gently assist the nurse in helping Nancy up, and you picked up the wheelchair, which had fallen onto its side. You gripped one of the back handles of the chair to steady it. Your other hand smudged along the ground to try and pick up some of the powder. As the pair helped her sit down, your eyes caught something. 

Nancy's shirt had ridden up during the ordeal, and there, along the small of her back, you saw them. The same marks that Kaya Tate, Jisung Park, and Alex Gallagher had. 

When Nancy refused to calm down, wailing and begging not to be taken back to wherever she thought you and John wanted to take her, the nurse ushered you out.

 "I'm sorry," She told you, "But you're upsetting my patients. If you absolutely need to come back, then do it some other day when she's calmed down." 

The two of you set off towards the exit down the stairs, your heels click-clacking quickly along the floor as you walked in front of John. 

He held open the exit door for you, and as soon as you were out the door and headed toward the parking lot, you whirled on him. 

"How did you know she would have those marks?" You asked, almost angry at him. John shrugged. 

"A hunch," Was all he answered.

"Dammit, Suh, cut the crap. What the hell is going on here?"

"What, so you can go off and write it in your little reports?" He fired back, raising his voice at you for the first time. Your head snapped back at the sudden disdain in his voice.

"I'm here to solve this case just the same as you are," You growled, "Now tell me the truth. I think I'm entitled to it."

He shoved his hands into the pockets of his trench coat, scowling at you. He leaned closer to you and lowered his voice. "You want my honest opinion? Fine. I think those kids have been abducted by an alien force. I think that they run tests on those kids, which is why Nancy Goldstein freaked out, and why Alex's body and hers have those markings. That's what I think."

You tapped your heel along the sidewalk in frustration and thought. "John, do you realize how insane that sounds? I—Why, there's nothing to substantiate—"

"Nothing scientific to substantiate," He corrected.

"Science is all there is, John!" You shook your head. He sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. The  both of you knew that this conversation would lead nowhere. Looking down, you remembered the ash smudged onto the palm of your hand. 

"Look," You said, quieter now. "This was on the floor around Chenle Zhong's bed."

"'S that… ash?"

You nodded. "I know what you think, John. Let me tell you what I think. I think those kids might be involved in some sort of sacrifice of some sort. Think about it, they're always called into the woods. The medical examiner doesn't want us looking at the bodies. And now, ash."

John's eyes darted back and forth, considering the options. He walked over to the car, unlocking it so the both of you could enter. 

"We can head into the woods tonight," He offered finally. "That way, we can both look into our own hypotheses."

"Sounds good to me," You answered, "Tonight."

THE WOODS, PINEWOOD, OREGON—20:26 hours, Wednesday, March 18th, 1992

A few hours after sundown, the two of you drove to the edge of the woods, armed with flashlights and your handguns. You'd tied your hair back and changed into a dark blue windbreaker, along with sweatpants and running shoes. It was a bit windy, and you could see storm clouds rolling in.

"Stay close by," You'd told John. "And be quiet."

"Yes, mom," He sighed. You rolled your eyes, resisting the urge to punch him in the arm. 

Once the two of you were out of the car, you split up, trying to stay within earshot of his footsteps. You spent about ten minutes wandering around, flashing your light around, taking slow steps as you scrounged for any hints. 

Above you, thunder rumbled, the occasional strike of lightning lighting up the sky for milliseconds. Leaning your head forward, you squinted in the dark. No way. 

The whole ground around you was covered in ash. If not the exact same ash as what was in front of Chenle's bed, it was very similar—sprinkled on top of the leaves and dirt. As you kneeled down to pick some up, your eyes widened at the same texture and pigment as the one of today. 

"What the fuck," You muttered under your breath, mind racing a mile a minute. These woods were creepy enough without the implication of a ritualistic cult, or close encounters of the third kind, or whatever John believed was happening. But now you had the possibility of a connection between these woods and two seriously disturbed kids.

A sudden mechanical rumbling made you snap your head up. You squinted, lifting your other hand to shield your eyes from the sudden brightness that lit up the trees. 

"John?" You asked when you heard footsteps. Your heart rate began to speed up, hand reaching for the gun tucked into your waistband. 

When you realized that the sound was coming from the direction of the light, you called his name out again. "John?"

A tall figure emerged from the light, and you soon realized what was pointed at you—a shotgun. Definitely not John Suh.

Not hesitating, you pulled out your gun. "Special agent Y/N L/N, FBI! Identify yourself!"

The figure only stopped until it was about ten feet away. You squinted, making out some familiar features. Surprisingly, you realized it was the officer who had been at the coroner's office with Doctor Choi. 

John came stumbling up to you, chest heaving. "Chief!" He sounded strangely enthusiastic. "What brings you to this neck of the woods?"

"You're trespassing on private property," He announced, seemingly unamused by John's tone. 

"We are conducting an investigation," You countered, lowering your gun. 

"You are trespassing," He said adamantly, "Now get out, before I have you both arrested."

John glanced at you momentarily. You frowned as he shrugged, obviously wanting you to stand down. The staredown continued for a solid ten seconds before you groaned softly. Tucking your gun back into your waistband, you followed the chief out of the woods, right back to your car, which was right next to his.

As John drove away, you watched as the flashing police lights faded into the distance. "What's he doing out here when he's got a whole town to take care of?"

John shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows. "I don't know," He hummed in that deep voice of his, "But I don't like him one bit."

The two of you drove in relative silence after that. The storm finally came down, drops of rain cascading angrily onto the windshield. Thunder rolled overhead, and the lightning grew bright.

In the dim light, your eyes turned to watch John, hoping he wouldn't take notice. You watched him alternate his eyes between the road ahead and the rearview mirror every few seconds. Your eyes raked over his features—a strong brow bone, a round nose, lips that seemed to curve upwards in a natural smirk.

You looked back up at his eyes, and his own gaze glanced at the watch on his wrist before returning to the road.

"You're staring," He said, sounding like he’d caught you with a hand in the cookie jar. You felt the scoff leave your lips before you could catch it, your cheeks heating up.

"I am not—"

A flash of lightning lit up the sky, far brighter than any of the other strikes. Then, an odd sensation filled your body: for the briefest of moments you felt absolutely weightless, unable to feel the carseat beneath you. Then a moment later when the light faded, and the feeling disappeared.

The car rolled to a stop, the engine’s rumble dying. You frowned even though you were glad that you’d have a chance to change the subject. “What happened?”

Johnny looked at the lights on the dashboard, and pressed on the accelerator tentatively a few times. He raised an eyebrow, looking skeptical. “Uh… we lost power.”

He seemed calm enough. Until he glanced at his watch again. Suddenly, his eyes widened, and he let out a single, excited laugh. “No fucking way,” He murmured, rushing to unbuckle his seatbelt.

“Uh, John, where are you g—”

He was out of the car before you could finish your sentence, heading into the downpour. You groaned, unbuckling hastily and following him. Already, he was drenched, and within seconds you were too. He was walking towards something on the road, a few feet in front of the car. When he turned to look back at you, he looked like a preschooler who had just discovered Sesame Street. His fists pumped into the air, his eyes squeezed shut and he began to jump up and down.

“Fuckin’—I—WOO! WOO HOO!”

“For the love of god,” You grumbled, standing right next to him despite his loud cheering, you tried your hardest to make out what had gotten him so excited. When the next flash of lightning lit up the street, plus the lights of the car helping illuminate the road, you saw it: a big, bright, neon X. Almost the exact same place the car had started acting strange yesterday.

“We lost time!” He yelled over the sound of the downpour. "I looked at my watch before the flash! It was 9:02 then, now it’s 9:13! That’s eleven minutes—GONE!”

You shook your head, stepping away. You threw up your hands in confusion. “What—John, that’s not possible! You’re saying time disappeared, time can’t—it can’t just disappear! That’s not just crazy, it’s—i-it’s a universal invariant! It’s impossible!”

John shook his head at you, eyes wide in wonder. Right before he started walking back to the car, he let out one last gleeful laugh. “Not in this zip code!”

Much to your displeasure, your headache returned soon after. You were more than content to let John ramble on while you zoned out, rubbing your forehead. What little you picked up was that people who claimed to be abductees always mentioned a bright flash of light and losing time, anywhere from five minutes to several hours.

You weren’t sure what to think at this point. You had half a mind to drive John to the Aloysius Grant Mental Institution and leave him there with Chenle and Nancy.

When you got back to the hotel, you ran straight to your room. When you tried flickering on the light, you found that it wouldn’t turn on. With a sigh, you realized the storm had to have blown the power out. Peeling off your wet clothes before you did anything else, you stripped to your underwear before pulling on your bathrobe. Shivering, you scrounged in the darkness of the room for anything, a flashlight, some candles.

Surprisingly, they did have a candle, a holder and some matches. As you lit it, and went over your bedtime routine (yes, you were a grown woman going to bed at 9:30 PM, you were tired), you couldn’t shake the eerie feeling settling in your stomach. Everything felt so off here, and there were so many things you couldn’t explain.

As much as John wanted to convince you, he couldn’t explain them either. The whole situation felt bizarre in a dreadful way. As you marched into the bathroom for a quick shower, you tried to reassure yourself everything would connect eventually.

When you took off the bathrobe, your hand went to rub at your lower back. The stiff mattress wasn’t doing you any favors. You let your eyes flutter shut, fingers rubbing at the muscle below your skin.

Until your fingers brushed over something that you knew hadn’t been there before. Your eyes snapped open, and you turned your back to the mirror, craning your neck to see. Your fingers ached to touch the spot again, but in your sudden alarm, your fingers began to shake.

There. At the small of your back, just above the waistband of your underwear, there they were. Two bumps. Just like Nancy’s. Just like Alex’s. Just like Kaya’s.

You didn’t know what overtook you. All of a sudden, you were putting your bathrobe back on and strutting stiffly out of your room. Before you knew it, you were knocking insistently on John’s door.

You didn’t stop until a very confused looking John opened up, holding a candle. “I—”

“I need to show you something,” You said shakily. His demeanor changed instantly when he saw your frantic state. He nodded wordlessly, widening the door and stepping to the side. Once the door was closed, you faced him, before untying the robe. His eyes widened slightly despite your shaking hands, and the tips of his ears turned red.

“Woah, at least take me out to dinner first—”

“Johnny, shut up!”

He froze at your tone, your slip up—calling him Johnny instead of John. You were too distressed to care, tossing the robe to the floor before turning, trying to poke at the marks on your back.

“What are they?” You asked, and John reached out a hand as if to placate you.

“Hey, hey,” He murmured, “Deep breaths. Can I get a closer look?”

Nodding, and trying to do what he said, you let him step closer, before kneeling. Tentatively, he ghosted a hand over the marks. You tried to ignore the goosebumps, shivering from what you assumed was the cold.

“What are they?” You repeated. “John—”

He spun you around, putting a gentle hand on your hip. You peered down at him, panting softly. “It’s okay,” He said softly, “They’re just mosquito bites.”

Your eyes fluttered shut in relief, putting a hand on his shoulder to steady your wobbling knees. “You’re sure?” You asked, looking down at him.

He nodded, amber eyes staring up at you. You were suddenly hyper aware of his hand on your hip, unable to break his gaze. He cleared his throat, standing up but not stepping away from you. “Yeah, I got some out there too. I’m positive.”

You put the bathrobe back on, then crossed your arms. “I need to sit down,” You mumbled. He gestured to his bed, sitting on the chair next to it. You raised an eyebrow, not wanting to impose. He shook his head, setting down the candle on the table.

“You’re shaking,” He said, “Go ahead.”

Inhaling deeply, you tried to compose yourself. Your hand rubbed at the back of your neck, suddenly feeling tense. You chewed on your lip, wondering if you should ask the question itching to come out.

“John?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. He nodded, eyes earnest.

“Yeah?”

“How did you… Why are you so interested in this stuff?”

His eyes lowered, rubbing his palms together slowly. He took a deep breath, resting his elbows on his thighs. Finally, he sighed.

“I was twelve when it happened,” He whispered. His gaze turned solemn, almost angry. “My little sister, Maggie, went missing in the middle of the night. Just… disappeared, like she vanished into thin air. No note, no phone calls, no discernible trail or evidence at all. Gone, just like that. How does an eight year old girl disappear without a trace?”

You swallowed the lump in your throat, not answering. Outside, the rain had stopped, but John’s eyes were a storm of their own, several emotions swimming around in pools of golden brown.

“It tore my family apart. My parents got divorced, everyone else refused to talk about it. There weren’t any facts to confront, nothing to give anyone closure, and the search just stopped.”

“What did you do?” You asked softly. He shrugged, pursing his lips.

“Eventually, I ran away to England. Came back, got recruited by the bureau.” He offered a sardonic smile, no joy behind it. “Apparently, I have a natural aptitude for applying behavioral models to criminal cases. My success allowed me a certain amount of freedom to pursue my own interests. That’s when I found the x-files.”

“On accident?” You leaned to lay down on your side, propping your head up with one hand. He nodded.

“At first, it looked like a dump for UFO sightings, cryptids, alien abductions. Real Hollywood kind of stuff. But… I was fascinated by it all, I read all the cases I could get my hands on. Hundreds of them, Y/N. All the paranormal phenomena, the occult, and then…” He sighed, lowering his head.

“What?” You leaned toward him, trying to read his face in the dark.

“There’s… classified government information I’ve been trying to get my hands on. Someone keeps blocking my access.” He looked to the side, palms still rubbing together. “The only reason I’ve been allowed to continue my work is because I've made connections in congress.”

You shook your head, “I don’t understand, are they afraid you’ll leak this information?”

When he met your gaze, the anger had returned, now far less subdued. “You’re a part of that agenda,” He murmured, “You would know.”

Your mouth dropped open slightly, and you shook your head before scooching closer to him. “I’m not a part of any agenda,” You answered. “You need to trust me.”

He sighed, before standing up to move onto your bed, leaning very close to you. The usually playful glow in his eyes was nowhere to be seen. “I’m telling you this, Y/N, because you need to know. In my... research, I’ve worked very closely with a man named Hans Kruger. He’s taken me through deep regression hypnosis, and through my repressed memories I’ve been able to return to that night my sister disappeared. I remember a very bright light outside and a presence in the room, and the sensation of being paralyzed, unable to answer her cries for help. Listen to me, Y/N, this thing exists.”

“But how do you know—”

“The government knows! And I gotta know what they’re protecting.” He leaned even closer to you, face inches away from yours. “Nothing else matters to me, and this is as close as I’ve ever—”

   The ringing of the telephone made the both of you jump away from each other, and John stood to pick up the phone. “Hello?”

   He made a face as the person on the other side answered. “What? Who is this? Who is—”

   Pulling the phone away from his ear, he looked at you. He seemed confused, alarmed. “That was a woman,” He said, putting the phone back on the housing, “Who told me that Nancy Goldstein is dead.”

 You frowned. “The girl in the wheelchair?”

 HIGHWAY 227, PINEWOOD, OREGON—23:11 hours, Wednesday, March 18th, 1992

 Quickly, the two of you dressed. The crash wasn’t hard to find in such a small town. Surrounded by witnesses and two police cars, a large semi truck was stopped in the middle of the road. Once there you produced your badges to get past the police cars. John went off to ask one of the cops questions about the accident, and you walked over to the body, which was draped over with a white cloth.

 Right next to it, a man, who you assumed was the driver, was being questioned. Showing the officer next to the body your badge, you crouched down to peel back the cloth covering the body.     

Poor Nancy Goldstein, wet with rain and blood, lay strewn in the road. A dribble of drying blood was running down her mouth. Her once white and purple polka dotted hospital gown was tinged with red, brown and gray. You sighed in sympathy. But your eyes travelled down at the watch she had on, and the sympathy made way into confusion. The hands had stopped, right at 9:02.

You took a deep breath when you recognized the coincidence. That's all it had to be, right? A coincidence?

 "You said she just ran out in front of you?" The officer speaking to the man asked.

"Yes, officer," He answered, "Just came charging out from the trees and right into the truck."

Nancy Goldstein, running. Not even walking, no, full on running. You stared at the body, eyes travelling to her legs. Somehow, they were specked with flecks of dirt, mud and small wood chips. It was consistent with someone moving through a wet, muddy area while barefoot. You swallowed anxiously, trying to figure out what was going on in this town.

 When you got into the car with John, you raised an eyebrow at him, getting ready to speak. Before you could, however, his cell phone rang. He pulled out the device and answered the call with a tired, "Suh. Who am I speaking to?"

You watched as his face turned confused. "What?"

 You couldn't hear what he was told, but when his face twisted into disbelief, and then anger, you knew it couldn't be anything good. "Of course. We'll be there as soon as possible," He said, tight-lipped.

 When he hung up, he immediately started the car. He didn't meet your eyes. "Fuck!" He growled, causing you to jump.

 "What?" Your eyes widened at his sudden outburst, barely having time to buckle your seatbelt before he sped away. "John, what happened—"

"Fuck if I know!" He snapped at you, before shaking his head and sighing.

 "There was a fire at the hotel." His tone was softer now. Your stomach sank. "Our rooms were the ones that were most affected."

"You've gotta be kidding," You sighed. He didn't answer, simply kept his eyes on the road.Only when the two of you got there did you realize just how bad the situation was. The fire department was there, hosing down the inside of your room. A crowd had come to watch the firemen work.

"There goes my computer!" You groaned. John kicked the car door.

"Fuck! The x-rays and pictures!" He seemed just about ready to explode.

Your eyes drifted back to the blinding, orange glow of the fire, crossing your arms in frustration, exhaustion.

Suddenly, a tap on your shoulder caused you to turn. You were met face to face with a familiar looking young girl in a bright blue denim jacket. She looked just about on the verge of tears.

 "John," You called, not looking away from her. When he saw the girl, he came up to the two of you.

 He raised a finger at her. "You're Do—"

 "My name is Lia Choi," She declared, voice wobbly, "You have to protect me."

 You quickly ushered Lia into the back of the car. When you closed the door, John raised an eyebrow at you. "She might know something," He murmured.

 "I know," You answered. "She seems terrified."

 He nodded. "You hungry?"

  "Um… yeah, why?"

  "I'm starving," He admitted, gnawing on his lips. "Let's get something to eat and question her there."

 "How the hell are you thinking about food at a time like this?"

He raised an eyebrow, making a face. "What, and you aren't?"

You rolled your eyes, but didn't disagree.

 The car ride took about ten minutes, and you pulled into the small diner with little to no issue. By then, it was a little past midnight, so it was starting to empty out. It had started raining again. You sat next to Lia, as she seemed somewhat more intimidated by John. He paid for some burgers and fries for the three of you, and then Lia finally spoke.

"I… There's something in the woods."

You exchanged glances with John, who rested his elbows on the table and interlaced his fingers. "What do you mean, something in the woods, Miss Choi?"

 The young girl shook her head, looking sheepish. "Please, just call me Lia," She said.

 Taking a deep breath, you flashed him a look that said let me try. "Lia, do you know that there's something in the woods, or is it just a feeling?"

 She stared at the table, looking for words. "I've never actually… seen anything. Not really. But I… I have these dreams. They're not like normal dreams, I-I have no idea how to explain it, but they just feel so… wrong. It's like my body's vibrating the entire time, a-and when I wake up, I'm there. In the woods. Every time. They—they've started happening more and more, and I don't know what to do, I-I'm just so—"

 "Woah, slow down there, kid," John said, holding up his hands. She'd started rambling, and it didn't take a genius to say that she was on the verge of tears. His dark eyes looked gentle, sympathetic. "Deep breath, Lia."

She let her eyes close, breathing slowly. "I'm sorry," She mumbled. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

Looking at John again, you spoke up. "We understand," You answered softly, "Can we ask you some more questions?"

 As she nodded, the one waitress working the place, who looked one strong gust of wind from falling over, set down your three plates. Sticking a fry into your mouth once the waitress left, you met eyes with the young girl.

"You said, 'I've never seen anything, not really.' What do you mean by that?"

Lia poked at her fries, not seeming that interested in the food. She pursed her lips, before sighing. "I… We saw something, once. I think. My friends were all out there—celebrating graduation. It was… maybe 11:30? I-I can't really remember. But we saw a bright light, and then this huge thing flew over us. When it was gone… Kaya checked her watch. It couldn't have been more than ten seconds after, but her watch said it was almost 2 AM, and then Chenle checked his watch, and so did Jisung, and… they all said the same thing.

"I didn't think much of it. I tried not to. I thought we just missed the time going by, somehow. But then Nancy and Chenle got into the crash, and then Kaya turned up dead in the woods… Then Jisung, and now Alex…" She shook her head, blinking back tears. "It can't all be a coincidence."

"How old were you when that happened, Lia?"

 "I was 17. I'm turning 21 in June."

John stared at her for a long time. "...And why did you decide to call me when you heard about Nancy's death?"

Oh?

You raised an eyebrow to look at Lia, who looked down. "They called my dad about it, and I know that Nancy's death has to do with whatever's in the woods. M-my dad, he… He keeps telling me he can keep me safe. But I don't think he can."

"So you called us?"

She nodded, not looking up at either of you. John and you exchanged a glance.

"Lia," You asked lowly, "Do you think your father—"

Your words died when blood began to spew from the girl's nose, your eyes widening and John's expression growing alarmed. He reached for the napkins, handing them to you to hand her quickly. Her eyes shut and her brow furrowed, obviously distressed. John pursed his lips.

  "Does this normally h—"

 "Lia Choi."

The three of you turned your heads to see Aaron Choi and the police chief standing next to each other, glaring at you and John.

Dr. Choi walked over to Lia, handing her another napkin. "Sweetheart, come on, let's go home."

John narrowed his eyes. "I don't think she wants to leave."

"I don't give a shit about what you think," The man snapped. He turned back to Lia, "Let's go home. You'll be safe there. Remember, I said that Chief Zhong and I would keep you safe—"

You exchanged a glance with John. You could see the gears turning in his head. Skywalker moment. "You’re Chenle Zhong's father?"

The chief scowled at him. "You stay away from my boy. He has no business in any of this."

Dr. Choi managed to pull away, with minimal protest from Lia. She managed to give the two of you one last apologetic glance before being pushed out the front door by your father.

"You gotta love this place," John grumbled, reaching for Lia's plate, "Every day's like Halloween."

"They know." You were sure of it. "Choi's been hiding evidence from those medical reports, and Zhong might just have enough authority around here to get access to our rooms to set them on fire."

"Why would they want to destroy evidence?" John asked, but it wasn't really a question. It sounded more like a parent trying to get their child to figure out something obvious on a math problem. "What could they possibly want with that corpse?"

You looked down at the table, heart pounding suddenly. When you met his eyes again, they were burning with curiosity and determination.

"Makes you wonder what's in those other two graves, huh?"

PINEWOOD MEMORIAL CEMETERY, PINEWOOD, OREGON—01:26 hours, Thursday, March 19th, 1992

Getting into the cemetery was easy. Finding the graves, with only your flashlights in the pouring rain, was a lot harder. You pored over different headstones for almost forty minutes, until John called your name.

"Did you find them?" You asked, turning to him. He was scowling down at the headstones. You didn't understand why… until you looked down to see the dirt piled up, and the two holes in the ground.

"Empty," He groaned.

"What is going on here?" You cried. John stared at the hole in the ground, before a look of epiphany dawned on his face. He turned to you, slowly.

"I think I know who did it."

You looked to the sides in thought. "Who? The chief?"

John shook his head, mouth tipping open. You leaned forward, hoping to hear his words better over the rain.

He chewed nervously on his bottom lip. "The chief's son."

When the words registered, you leaned away. All the fight in you seemed to deflate, and your face twisted into a confused mess.

"What?"

He nodded, and you raised your eyebrows. "Chenle Zhong? The boy in the hospital. The boy who's been in a goddamn coma since 1989. That Chenle Zhong? He somehow got here, dug up these graves, and is somehow responsible for the murders of four different kids?"

John's eyes fell shut, and he took a deep breath. "Nancy Goldstein was wheelchair bound but ran in front of a car, it's not entirely impossible. All of this fits a profile of alien abduction. She was killed around 9—the same time we lost time in the car."

"A profile." You crossed your arms, trying to stop the shivering racking your body. March showers in the Pacific Northwest—you wouldn’t be surprised if all of this was just a delusion induced by hypothermia.

"Look, something happened during those 10 minutes," He insisted, "Time, as we know it, stopped, and it has something to do with the forest."

You shook your head in disbelief, unable to hold back your shocked sigh. All you could do was stare, watching as John's expression hardened.

"You think I'm crazy," He murmured defeatedly, "Just like everyone else does."

He turned on his heel, starting to walk away, when a soft scoff caused him to turn back. "What?"

You wore a smile of disbelief. "The hands of Nancy Goldstein's watch stopped at 9:02," You admitted, looking up at the sky before meeting his gaze. "I made a mental note of it because of how insane the coincidence was. But…"

"The forest is controlling the kids," John said with a nod. He sounded more hopeful now, as he took a step closer. "It summons them here!"

"A-and the marks are…"

"The remainders of some sort of experiment. They put that weird chemical into the bodies—"

"Which leads to genetic mutations, like the one we saw in Alex Gallagher’s body!"

John nodded, a hopeful grin spreading across his features, the rain causing his hair to fall into his eyes. "And the woods summoned Nancy Goldstein here tonight, but the one who brought her was—"

"Chenle Zhong," You gasped. Meeting eyes with John, the two of you exchanged surprised, awed, slack jawed smiles, before promptly bursting into giggles at how silly it all sounded, the sheer absurdity of it all. Like the plot of some crappy Fox TV show.

"This—Johnny, this is insane!"

"That’s just how all the x-files work!" He exclaimed between laughter, "This isn't even half of it!"

That did it for you. The idea that there had to be something even stranger, something that paled in comparison to this. You had to reach out for his shoulder to stop yourself from falling, bending over and clutching your stomach to the point of tears. John’s laughter never let up either, not until the two of you were panting, out of breath from cackling so hard.

"I can't believe any of this," You sighed, shaking your head once more.

"It doesn't matter. As long as we're on the same page," John said with a shrug, "It'll make things a whole lot easier. Now, let's get back to the car—"

A high pitched scream filled the air, and the two of you locked eyes before darting in its direction.

Right into the forest.

Mud squelched beneath your shoes as the two of you ran. It was damn near impossible to see anything with the rain and the darkness of night, the way your flashlights swung back and forth with your running.

Your light reflected onto a piece of black metal, causing the two of you to slow down. John flashed his own light side to side, before landing on the white door of the car, the crest emblazoned on it: PINEWOOD POLICE DEPARTMENT. You sighed at the revelation, turning slightly.

"Shit," He muttered, "Do you think—?"

"John." You took a step to the side, focusing your light onto something on the ground. "Look."

When he turned his head to look at what you were seeing, you heard him inhale sharply.

Dr. Choi's body lay strewn on the muddy ground, blood streaking down his temple. You couldn’t tell if he was breathing or not.

Another scream pierced the air, the sound distinctly female. You exchanged a brief glance with John, before nodding in the direction the noise came from. "You go! I'll check his vitals."

"Be careful," He warned before darting off. You knelt on the ground, reaching out to feel for a pulse over the carotid artery. You let your eyes fall shut in relief when you found one a few seconds later. All you needed to do now was assess his injury.

But they snapped open when the mud squelched behind you, and when you turned your head, you saw a flash of black and beige. A loud thwack! cracked against the side of your head, and you fell to the ground, vision turning dark.

When you came to, you weren't sure how much time had passed, but it couldn't have been too long. It was still dark, and while the rain had calmed, it wasn't over yet. Sluggishly,  you reached for the flashlight, and struggled to stand.

Stumbling, you tried to surmise where the noise was coming from, but the world felt like it was spinning. You were confused, disoriented, that the sudden brightness knocked you on your ass, quite literally.

Brightness?

White, seemingly industrial light lit up the forest so suddenly that you reeled back in surprise, falling into the mud. You blinked dazedly. If this were a Loony Tunes short, there would be little Tweety birds flying around your head right about now.

Still, you knew you needed to get up. So you did, still stumbling as if someone had spun you around to hit a piñata, and carried forward. The shouting had stopped now.

In the distance, where the light was the brightest, you could hear the shouting. One of the voices was distinctly John's, but as you got closer, it stopped.

And by the time you got into the clearing? The light disappeared, and so did the rain. Gone at the same time.

There were three men standing in the clearing, seemingly in a triangle. John's back was turned to you. In front of him? Someone was lying on the floor (had you not been so dizzy, you would have recognized her as Lia), and…

"Chenle?" The police chief asked, voice shaking. Your eyes turned to the young man, whose dark eyes were wide in confusion and fear. He was barefoot, clad only in a pair of gray sweatpants.

"...Dad?" He asked as Chief Zhong walked to him, before crushing the young man in a hug.

"J-John?" Your voice was small. The man in question turned to you, eyes widening at your state. He stepped towards you, face full of concern. When you buckled, he gripped you by your forearms.

"Y/N, are you alright?"

"Th-there was a light," You murmured, "It was so…"

He nodded, smiling sympathetically. "I know," He said, "But I think you have a concussion."

"Uh…" You stared at him blearily. "...You're really strong."

He held back a snicker. "Am I now?"

FBI HEADQUARTERS, WASHINGTON, D.C—10:04 hours, Wednesday, March 25th, 1992

After a stop to the emergency room, a minor concussion diagnosis, a flight home, a few days of bed rest and finally that bubble bath (sans the wine, unfortunately), you were finally allowed to present your findings to your superiors, in the report you'd written in the past few days (you were advised to rest over the weekend, and you did just that and wrote the report all Tuesday).

You marched into that office, John already sitting in one of the two seats in front of the desk. He didn't speak while you presented your findings. Again, Chief Brooks was accompanied by the same two men.

"And what of the boy?" Division Chief Brooks asked, "Chenle… Zhang, you said?"

"Zhong," You and John corrected in unison, exchanging a sheepish glance when you both realized what happened.

"He's in custody. So are his father and Doctor Aaron Choi. He claims to not have remembered anything."

"I understand you and Chief Zhong had an exchange in the woods?" The older man asked, staring at John.

He nodded. "Yes, sir. I asked him what the need was to take the Chois to the woods, he seemed desperate—said that if it got his son back, then he'd do it."

"So, what, are we to believe all of this—the abductions and the mutations and the mind control without any concrete evidence?" The second officer asked.

"There was an x-ray of Chenle’s that revealed a small piece of metal lodged in his nose, just like Agent L/N's report mentioned with—"

"The Gallagher boy's implant, yes. But that could be anything, Agent Suh. It hasn't been surgically removed so we can't verify what it is."

John clenched his jaw. "But—"

"Agent Suh, with no evidence of the implant existing we simply cannot continue to waste bureau resources," The chief explained, "The fact of the matter is the original implant, as well as your other evidence, was destroyed in that fire and—"

"What if it wasn't, though?" You asked.

It was as if all of the air had been sucked out of the room. All four men's eyes snapped up to look at you. John’s eyes were wide in shock.

You met eyes with him briefly as you reached into your blazer pocket, placing the small vial holding the implant onto the table.

"None of the tests I ran on the implant were able to reveal what kind of metal it is," You sighed, "It all came back as inconclusive."

"I—" For the first time, the third agent spoke for the first time. "How did you manage to salvage it?"

Tilting your head back and forth, you tried to sound professional. "I kept it… on my person at all times after I extracted it. I felt it was too important to lose."

The three men exchanged a silent conversation with their eyes. You looked at John, whose expression towards you had shifted from shock to awe. You offered him a sly smile.

"Well, then." Division Chief Brooks sounded frustrated—like a father allowing his children ice cream after being worn down by them. "Considering this… new piece of evidence, I—I suppose I could authorize the continuation of the project."

You breathed a sigh of relief. John’s shoulders sagged.

"However, Agent L/N, I will expect your reports on every single one of these cases within three days of them being closed, unless medically justified. Failure to do so will result in the termination of the project."

"Understood, sir," You said.

The third man lit a cigarette, before pointing to the vial on the table. "That implant will be kept with us, it's evidence now. Any and all evidence will be handed over to us," He ordered, taking a drag.

You nodded, but something told you John wouldn't approve. He didn't say anything, but you knew he'd have something to say sooner or later.

"You're both dismissed," Division Chief Brooks told you both.

Once you were out of the office and out of earshot, John stopped in the middle of the hallway. He put his hands on his hips and stared at you.

"I—That was… Wow. Y/N, how did you even do that?"

"Honestly?" You bit back a grin before lowering your voice. "...I hid it in my sports bra."

He broke out into a shocked smile. "In your—amazing. Y/N, you’re a genius."

"Am I now?" You asked, raising your eyebrows. You started down the hallway again, and he followed. "Thank you," He mumbled.

With a wave of your hand, you shook your head. "I'm just doing my job, y’know? Plus, I enjoyed working with you, John. I think we make a... decent team."

He looked down at his feet, sticking his hands in his pockets. "Well," He said, "If we are going to keep working together, can I ask you to do something?"

"Sure," You replied. By now, you were headed down the basement steps.

"Just… call me Johnny. John feels too… formal."

"Johnny," You sounded the name out, before smiling. "Yeah, it suits you better."

X-FILE 144-A: THE BELDAM'S GLENN BLOOD RITUALS

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE EVERETT TURNPIKE, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—07:32 hours, Thursday, February 11th, 1993

"Brief me again on this case?" Johnny sighed as he drove ahead, "I was too tired when you explained on the flight here."

You nodded, rubbing your eyes and putting on your glasses. Outside, rain hit the roof of the car, and the sky was that bluish gray tinge of an early morning drizzle. That, paired with the soft guitar from the radio along with Robert Smith's voice made for gentle ambience.

I don't care if Monday's blue

Tuesday's gray and Wednesday too

Thursday, I don't care about you

It's Friday, I'm in love...

 Pulling out the folder from your bag. Truth be told, you were tired too—you'd been called just before 3 in the morning by someone at the bureau telling you you'd been assigned to work a murder case in Beldam's Glenn, New Hampshire. A fairly small town, less than 10,000 people.

You'd had an hour to pack some clothes, then take a taxi to the bureau to grab some things from the office and pick up the file briefing the incident. Then, just before four you arrived at Reagan International, where you met a seemingly bedraggled Johnny. His suit was a bit wrinkly and there were dark circles rimming his eyes.

By now, you'd been working with Johnny for almost a year. You'd learned in that time that he did not enjoy waking up before 5 AM. 

"Good morning," You'd greeted, and he shook his head.

"It's not morning yet, and it certainly isn't gonna be a good one," He'd grumbled in response. 

"Okay, Oscar the Grouch." 

Now, in the car, flicking through the folder, you read out loud the information. A fifteen year old boy identified as Mark Lee had been found dead in the woods, near an area rumored to be where satanic cults practiced blood magic. His eyes and heart missing, torn clean out.

"...Ouch," Johnny muttered, stifling a yawn.

You raised an eyebrow. "Yeah. Ouch."

"Any witnesses or anything?" 

"No," You mumbled, reading over more details. One in particular caught in your eye. "Huh… Additionally, animal tracks in the form of hooves, seemingly appearing out of nowhere, were found leading to Lee’s body."

Johnny tilted his head. "Hooves?"

You hummed in confirmation.

He raised his eyebrows, facing you for a second before turning his attention back to the road. His eyes were wide. Somehow, you already knew what he was going to say. "Do you think there's a small possibility—"

"No." 

Johnny huffed. "Oh, come on! Y/N, humans are innately spiritual beings. Is it so crazy to think that just maybe a creature akin to a demon could exist?"

"I don't know, Johnny. Maybe there is. But I think now that the middle ages are over and we have more logical explanations for things like this, we shouldn't immediately jump to conclusions."

For a long time, he didn’t speak. Another thing you learned during your time with Johnny was that while it was relatively easy to smother his wild conclusions during calmer discussions, it was damn near impossible to get him to let go of them completely. You knew he'd mention it again later, but for now, you were content to just drive like this with him. You were… comfortable with Johnny. 

He had a sort of dry wit that, paired with his suave persona, made him incredibly charismatic. Once you got to know him better, it surprised you that no one around your department of the bureau really liked him.

Dressed up to the eyes

It's a wonderful surprise

To see your shoes and your spirits rise...

He shrugged. "Maybe you're right. Look, there are the cop cars."

Johnny pulled over on the side of the road, one man holding an umbrella seemingly waiting for you both. You looked at the man in the driver's seat, and he nodded toward the back seat. "There's an umbrella in the back."

"Thanks," You said, grabbing the thing. You both stepped out of the car, tugging the vinyl umbrella open. You did a once over of the officer—sheriff, actually, once you saw the badge on his chest. Johnny stood behind you and grabbed the small umbrella from you, so that he could fit under it.

"You're the FBI guys?" The sheriff asked. The two of you pulled out your badges, presenting yourselves. He offered a smile, but it was obvious the middle-aged man was shaken up.

"My name is Bill McNamara," He said, beginning to walk towards the trees. The two of you followed. "Thank you for coming on such short notice." 

He led you to a spot crowded by a few more officers scattered across the space, a white sheet hiding the body, a few feet away from a large, mossy cracked tree stump, so wide it was probably older than 100 years when it fell.

"Is this Mark Lee?" Johnny asked, and Sheriff McNamara nodded. Another officer peeled the sheet back. The poor boy was, in fact, missing his eyes, and there was a large hole in his chest. Even after several years as an MD and an FBI agent, corpses still filled you with dread.

Johnny, in his proximity from behind, nudged you slightly and pointed to the ground next to the boy. 

"So," You said, turning your attention back to the officer once you noticed the hoof tracks, "Have there been any reports of missing animals in the area? Cows, sheep?"

"...Goats?" Johnny added. You nodded stiffly. Sheriff McNamara shook his head. When he spoke, he seemed resolute.

"They say this area is popular for blood rituals, witch's magic. Now, these rumors have been around for years—since I was a kid, actually."

"Any basis to those rumors?" You asked. The Sheriff gave you a look. 

"Agent L/N, just look at the body!"

"Lots of homicides involve victim desecration," You pointed out, "Is there anything else that might point to that?"

The sheriff put his free hand on his hip. "I know he and his friends listen to that disgusting devil's music."

"I didn't like Madonna's latest album either, but I don’t think it's bad enough to call it that," Johnny mumbled sarcastically. You gave him a subtle elbow in the ribs, flashing him a dirty look. The sheriff didn't seem to notice his banter.

"No, I'm talking about that heavy metal stuff. It takes root in our children, poisoning their minds."

He led you over towards the tree stump. Johnny took a more serious approach. "Have Mark Lee or any of his friends ever been spotted at any of these supposed rituals?"

"More rumors," You muttered. The sheriff shook his head, stopping in front of the stump. 

"Not that I know of," He said, before gesturing at the stump, "This is allegedly their altar. What do you think?"

Johnny's seriousness seemed to only last in short bursts, because he fired back with, "Honestly? With a few rounds of sandpaper and some cans of shellac, it'd make a pretty nice coffee table."

The sheriff replied, "Oh… Uh… Well, from the looks of this wax on it, it was probably being used when he died."

You rolled your eyes, turning your head to the side in embarrassment. But then a flash of white, and translucent pale yellow on the ground caught your eyes.

"Do you know if Lee was out here with anyone?" Johnny asked, not saying anything as you stepped out from under the umbrella. You heard the sheriff say, "We presume he was alone."

"You sure?" You asked, picking up the library card, and the piece of wet paper. "This Franklin Pierce High library card belongs to… Haechan Lee. And the paper here is torn at the stamp so that it doesn't say which library it's from, but it's safe to say that it's from there. The title at the top is torn, too, but it says '...In America'."

You stepped back under the umbrella, raising an eyebrow as you handed them to him. "I'm surprised your people missed this."

The sheriff balked, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "I'm sorry, Agent L/N," He murmured, "I'll admit, we're all a bit… shaken up here. This isn't something that we've ever dealt with, which is why I called the FBI. I'll have my men escort you to Franklin Pierce. That kid, Donghyuck Lee… He's Mark’s best friend. He's most likely there."

The sheriff stalked off, and you raised an eyebrow at Johnny before lowering your voice. "Better hide your Metallica albums… I could barely take him seriously."

He shrugged. "Well, the body's clearly displayed in a ceremonial manner. Plus, those goat tracks are highly unusual, Y/N." 

"I was under the impression he made you skeptical once he started speaking," You hummed, crossing your arms. He shook his head.

"I didn't wanna feed his imagination. Poor guy's clearly overwhelmed."

"I think he fed your imagination, Johnny. This is nothing but some murderer taking advantage of local folklore. I mean, there's nothing that odd about—"

The sound of slapping and bouncing against the vinyl of the umbrella caused you to jump back, crashing into Johnny's chest. Your shoulders tensed up as Johnny dropped the umbrella and let out a startled, "What the—"

You caught the umbrella as it fell from his hands, but it was too late for him. Something large, wet and brownish green hit him in the forehead before landing on the ground and flopping away. 

Your mouth dropped open and you met Johnny's equally shocked expression as you both registered the multitude of toads raining down on you. 

A few seconds later and it stopped, but now the ground was covered in toads, now jumping away in different directions. Neither you nor Johnny spoke for a good fifteen seconds, until he wiped his forehead free of… mucus. Your shoulders dropped slowly when he finally spoke.

"So… wanna get coffee before we head over to the school?"

Your face dropped from confusion to disbelief. "Johnny, toads just fell from the sky."

"Yeah, but I still want coffee."

PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE, FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—09:04 hours, Thursday February 11th, 1993

Coffee on the table, you sat at a desk situated in the school office. Your laptop, the case file and a copy of today's newspaper were laying on top of it. A few feet away from you, the school psychologist and the secretary you'd borrowed the desk from were speaking to each other. You paid them no mind, looking over the file as you typed up your preliminary report.

You continued typing until the door opened, Johnny stomping in tugging a scrawny looking teenage boy—who was most likely Haechan Lee—by the upper arm. Two girls followed meekly behind, as well as a middle-aged woman, who you assumed was a teacher. All three of the kids seemed to be on the verge of tears. You raised an eyebrow at the sight. Johnny looked pissed off, and he asked the psychologist in a clipped tone, "Hey, Doyoung, could Agent L/N and I use your office to talk to the kids?"

Doyoung looked at the boy in Johnny's grip, then at the secretary, then you, before he nodded. Johnny opened the door and made a motion for the kids to go inside. "Sit down at that table. Don't speak unless spoken to," He ordered, tone stern. You gnawed on the inside of your cheek at his voice as you stood. What had gotten into him?

You pulled him away from the doorway, lowering your voice. "You good?"

Johnny sent the boy a glare before sighing. "Kid tried jumping out the window in front of the entire class to escape. I'll calm down. Just pisses me off that he thought something that stupid would work."

You bit back a smile, patting him on the shoulder. "Pull it together, Suh. He can't get away like this."

Johnny nodded, looking down at you warmly. "Ooh, last name. I'm in trouble."

"Shut up," You huffed, only half-joking. You were about to turn when you remembered something you'd read from the cover of the newspaper.

"By the way," You murmured, "National Weather Service reported tornadoes in northern Massachusetts early this morning. The toads probably got picked up from the winds."

Johnny sighed, before walking into the psychologist's office.

He turned to the woman. "Mrs. Walker, we'll take it from here, go on back to the other kids in your class."

"Are you sure?" She asked, pushing a black, stray hair back into her tight bun. Johnny nodded.

"The one day I'm called in to sub and all of this happens," She muttered to herself. 

You spared a glance at the middle-aged woman, giving her a polite smile. She did the same, and you followed behind Johnny, pulling out your tape recorder from your pocket and closing the door behind you. 

Johnny crossed his arms and leaned against the door, you standing in front of the table and setting the tape recorder on the table. 

"This is going to be recorded," You told them. None of them protested, so you hit the record button.

"So, let's get this out of the way," Johnny began, "None of you are under arrest. We just want to ask you some questions. First, I want you to state your names for the record. Understood?" 

They all nodded, and they introduced themselves: the dark haired, tan boy was in fact Donghyuck Lee, the shorter curly haired girl was named Amy Espinoza, and the taller redheaded girl was named Phoebe Howard. 

The questions were basic and thus, so were the answers. Donghyuck and Mark were childhood best friends, but not related. Mark introduced Amy to him with Phoebe's help. Donghyuck took the book Witch Hunt: A History of The Occult in America out because he and Mark wanted to make the whole thing seem legit. When asked why they really wanted to go out there, Donghyuck looked down. He held his hands together between his thighs.

"We wanted to… you know."

"We really don't," You said, raising an eyebrow. He looked like he wanted to sink into the earth then and there.

"Mark and I had a bet that whoever got past second base with the girlsfirst  would do the other's biology homework for the rest of the year."

Amy nudged Phoebe. "Told you," She grumbled quietly. Phoebe glared at her. 

You continued the interrogation. The incantation taken from the book was apparently one meant to summon Azazel. They'd gone out there just before midnight because the book said that was the best time. 

Donghyuck insisted they didn't kill him. "I'll let you search my car and everything, that's how we got there."

"Did you see what happened?"

Phoebe took a shaky breath, before burying her face in her hands. Amy nodded. "...We did. We ran but it had already… gotten to Martin."

You and Johnny exchanged a glance. "It?" You asked. 

Donghyuck nodded. "Lady, you're gonna think we're bullshitting you—"

"Language," You and Johnny scolded in unison. Donghyuck at least had the audacity to look embarrassed. 

"We got out there," Amy continued, "Martin lit a candle on the stump and did the incantation. The wind… changed. It suddenly got a lot colder and we started hearing… I don't even know."

"It sounded like, I guess what you would call speaking in tongues," Donghyuck said. "And then suddenly, there was this thing a few feet away from us. Maybe over six feet tall, and at first I thought it was a goat, but… it wasn't."

"What did it look like?"

Phoebe cried even harder, and the other two exchanged a weary glance. "It had… glowing orange eyes, and long dark hair." Amy shuddered. "It looked like it had goat legs, but a human torso. It was like…"

"It had a… a woman’s chest," Donghyuck mumbled. Your eyes landed on Phoebe, who seemed to be extremely upset. You exchanged a glance with Johnny. He seemed to understand what you were saying, and nodded wordlessly.

"Phoebe, are you alright?" You asked, feeling that something was up. She was shaking like a leaf. With a sigh, you turned the recorder off, and pointed at Amy and Donghyuck. "Both of you, wait outside on that chair. Don't move."

The two of them left, and you nodded at Johnny to sit next to you. 

"Phoebe," Johnny said softly, "Is there something going on that the other two don't know?"

She wiped her eyes, lip wobbling. You put a hand on his shoulder, taking over. "No, there isn't," She mumbled, "I'm just… this whole thing's freaked me out."

Johnny raised an eyebrow, and you sighed. She didn't sound very convincing. Something wasn't right here. Still, you knew it would be hard to get anything out of her when she was so upset.

"Alright. You—you're free to go." You took a deep breath, hesitating before you spoke again. 

"...But if you do want to tell us anything, you can come to us and we can—we'll speak off the record, if it makes you feel better."

Johnny frowned. "I think maybe—"

You flashed him a strong glare, cutting him off, before turning back to Phoebe. She sniffled, eyes darting between the two of you. When she settled on you, she allowed herself to relax a little bit more than when she'd been looking at Johnny. She nodded wordlessly, fiddling with a silver charm bracelet on her left wrist, and you gestured towards the door. "Go wash your face, drink some water. Tell your friends they're free to go. 'Kay?"

She gave a small smile at your gentler tone. Once she was gone, Johnny was on you. "We could have pressed her further. Why did you even offer to go off the record if we haven't ruled her off as a suspect, that's breaking bureau protocol—" 

"We'll talk about this later," You answered as you stood. Out of the corner of your eye, you watched the three teenagers leave.

He lowered his voice as you opened the door. "Y/N, I can't believe—"

"You're letting them go?" The secretary—Beatrice, you believed was her name—asked, glaring at you. Her coiffed blonde bob bounced as she shook her head disapprovingly. Immediately, Johnny straightened. 

"There's not enough evidence to keep them here," He said, "Besides, they're minors. It's always tricky with them."

"It's so obvious that they did it." Doyoung crossed his arms, "They've clearly been influenced by all that stuff on MTV."

You sighed. "The FBI recently concluded a years long study researching any correlation between homicides and media consumption and found that it only occurs in 0.01% of cases. If there were any it would mean thousands of people murdering tens of thousands of other people. It'd be the biggest conspiracy in human history."

Doyoung scoffed, giving you a mocking glance. "Yeah, and J. Edgar Hoover never admitted the existence of the mafia. Really trustworthy source, the FBI."

Johnny barely contained his scoff. He glowered at Doyoung as he gently pushed your upper back towards the door. 

"Our investigation is ongoing."

ROSE GARDEN HOTEL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—19:57 hours, Thursday, February 11th, 1993

Johnny's door opened to a sight of you, no makeup, in sweatpants and hair tied up. You took in his appearance. He had on a similar pair of sweatpants, and a white t-shirt. His hair was pushed back, and he was wearing his reading glasses. 

"What's up?" He asked, letting you in. 

"I found something," You murmured, holding up your laptop as he closed the door. You sat at the foot of the bed, and he sat next to you. You opened the laptop, green text flashing onto the screen. His shoulder brushed yours due to the proximity. 

"'The grisly discovery of a young boy's mutilated body in the woods in the early morning has local law enforcement worried about the organization of conspiratorial dark forces.'"

He nodded. "Okay, is that from this morning's newspaper?"

You didn't answer, but rather read another quote from the article. "'The Jew is known to sacrifice teenagers and remove their organs during their religious rituals.' This is from a Nazi newspaper, from 1934. I found another similar case from 1967, where they pinned it on LSD users. The details are always the same, they just fill in the blanks with whoever was being persecuted at the time."

Johnny met your eyes. "And this time, it's occultists."

"Maybe this is some hidden organization, but I'm not sure. But something's just… not right. I have a bad feeling." 

"Something to do with that girl?"

You nodded. "Is there anything you picked up? Something I might not have noticed?"

He chewed on his lip. "Now that you mention it, I did notice something a few minutes ago, but it doesn't have to do with her. Come on."

He stood, and you set the laptop down on the bed before following him to the bathroom door, where he flicked the light on.

"So, we're in the northern hemisphere." He marched to the sink, leaning over it.

You leaned against the doorframe. "Last time I checked, yes."

He pressed the plug into the sink drain, before turning on the faucet. "The Coriolis Effect dictates that due to the Earth's rotation, water should swirl clockwise, right?"

You nodded, having an idea of where this is going. He motioned for you to come closer. He turned off the faucet. By now, some water had filled the sink just enough. He removed the plug, and you watched as the water went down, whirlpool swirling counterclockwise. 

"Johnny—"

"Something is here, Y/N. It's strong enough to affect this, then who knows—"

"Johnny, the Coriolis Effect works on storms and large bodies of water. Sinks and bathtubs usually don't fall under—"

He groaned, tipping his head back. "Of course," He grumbled, "It's been like this since day one."

You squeezed your eyes shut in frustration. Yes, in your time working with Johnny, you'd seen some truly unexplainable things. A pyromaniac that could light things on fire with his mind, a prehistoric parasite that turned its host violent, a serial killer that entered houses by squeezing his body through impossibly small spaces like an octopus. 

But still, you always had your doubts. "Johnny, once cases are over and we have our explanations, and I've seen things for myself, have I ever not believed you—"

"You don't trust me during these cases, Y/N, that's what matters! It's always been like this, I'm always right, but you never believe me, you go off and write your little notes about me like I'm some field experiment—"

You frowned and crossed your arms. "Johnny—"

"Have I ever gotten anything wrong? 90% of the time, my conclusions are the correct ones—"

"We come to those conclusions together! Don't start taking credit for them now."

"Oh, so you believe it only when your name is also on the report, huh?"

"Don't twist my words, Johnny. You know what I mean. I believe my conclusions first, and then I listen to yours and based on circumstantial evidence and once I discard all logical scientific explanations, then I turn to the extraordinary. I don't jump to conclusions like you do!"

"Why can't you be a good friend for once and fucking listen to me—"

"Because I'm not your friend, Johnny! I'm your fucking coworker!"

The silence that filled the room once you were done was deafening. It was only then that you realized how loud you'd gotten. The shocked disappointment in Johnny's eyes seemed to be even louder, though. 

Immediately, you realized your mistake. Yes, you'd grown close to him, but that was necessary for working well on these assignments. Keeping your work life and your personal life separate was paramount for you. Evidently, Johnny didn't feel the same, and as a result, you'd hurt him.

For a long time, no one said anything. Simply staring at each other, small space ripe with tension. Your eyes softened when he looked away from you, leaning his back against the counter. You took a step closer, until he was right in front of you.

"Johnny, I—"

"Can you get out, please?"

You stared at him for a few moments, trying to think of something to say. 

Ultimately, you didn't. You took a deep sigh, and grabbed your laptop on the way out.

Being an FBI meant you had little to no personal time, working pretty much 7 days a week and being on call for anything at any time, in any part of the country. You knew that when you started your training.

You'd entered with a statement and left with a question. Could you really call Johnny a friend? You really only saw him during work. You didn’t meet outside of it—but considering how much you worked, always on call and spending nights holed up with him in hotel rooms or in your office going over evidence of different cases, at what point did you start spending more time at work than at your day to day life?

PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE, FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—10:11 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

You were looking between the notes you’d scribbled down on a small notepad using a pen you’d stolen from Johnny the day before. It was while you were transferring them to the report on your computer that you jumped in your seat when the office door burst open. Mrs. Walker guided a sniffling Phoebe Howard into the room. Johnny, who had been speaking to Doyoung to ask him about other students, turned his head. 

Doyoung held up a hand, to which Johnny nodded, and the shorter man walked over to the two of them. "Phoebe, are you alright?"

She shook her head, breaking into tears again, unable to speak. Doyoung turned to Mrs. Walker, who simply patted her head. "Lab project," She murmured, "They had to dissect pig embryos. She just… broke down. I've seen it happen before. Some kids are just more sensitive than others."

"No, no, it's not that," Phoebe blubbered, "Can I…"

Despite everything that had happened last night, when you looked at Johnny, you saw he'd done the same. A tense, knowing stare was shared between the two of you, and then Phoebe spoke.

"Can I speak to Agent L/N please?"

Your head snapped to her when she said your name. You stood, and nodded.

You lead her out the door while ignoring Doyoung’s frown and Mrs. Walker's confused look. Johnny followed behind at a distance. 

The three of you went out the door, to the outdoor lunch tables. You had Phoebe sit down, Johnny and you remained standing. 

"What is it you wanted to talk about, Phoebe?" You said gently.

She took a shaky breath, rubbing her hands together. "So… Do you know who my stepdad is?"

Thinking back to when you'd made a basic profile on the three kids yesterday afternoon, you nodded. "He's the gym coach here, right? Grant Howard?"

She nodded. "So… he married my mom when I was 6. And he adopted me when I was 8. One year after that my mom got a new job, a-and she started travelling a lot, y'know? So I was alone with him a lot more. I-I don't know when it started, but…"

The sinking feeling in your chest grew as she started to cry again.

"S-sometimes when she wasn't here, h-he would invite people over. They'd come i-in with these red cloaks and they—would bring small animals. Kittens a-and puppies, birds sometimes… They would take me down to the basement, to a room where the walls are painted red and there's this dirt floor, and they would—they would stand in a circle and sing and they would give m-me knives, o-or screwdrivers and…"

You sat down next to her, rubbing her shoulder as she let out a gut-wrenching cry. Looking at Johnny, the hand that wasn't in his trench coat pocket was balled into a fist. He was looking down, eyebrows furrowed.

"I didn't want to!" She wailed, "They would hurt me if I didn't, they said they would hurt my mom if I said anything! I had to be the one to kill the animals and then they w-would drink the blood—I don't know how I blocked it out or why I never remembered it until Mrs. Walker put the—the pig on the table, and I… I… I just…"

"It's okay, honey," You murmured, nodding. She buried her head into your shoulder, sobbing freely, and you rubbed her back to soothe her. 

Again, you looked at Johnny, who didn't look at you. You realized just how difficult it would be to keep this off the record—this was something that involved a child being abused, you couldn’t let her go home to a dangerous situation. 

This just got a whole lot more complicated. 

HOWARD RESIDENCE, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—15:49 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

Phoebe was to remain at school. Donghyuck and Amy would pick her up, and she would spend the night with Amy. She wouldn't be going home until the situation was thoroughly investigated. She'd been left with Doyoung, who would speak to her as a mandated reporter, and would later go back to attempt to finish the project. You left her your number in case she needed to speak to you again. 

You'd spoken to Mrs. Walker as her final class was out, just before you and Johnny left. The lab was spacious. A large python lay sleeping in a glass case in the corner of the room. The space was ripe with the smell of blood, which didn't surprise you, given the amount of pig embryos she was having her students dissect all day long.

The woman had a soft voice, and seemed very sympathetic to Phoebe's struggle. "I absolutely understand, I might have her do something else for her grade, but I'm afraid I might not be able to find any other activity on such short notice."

You nodded, sighing. "Of course. Thank you for considering, regardless." 

Your eyes fell to her desk, where a small basket of random items glinted with a small charm bracelet, the same bracelet you'd seen on—

"Ah, the students usually ask me to hold onto their things when we get messy like this," She said with a smile when she noticed where you were looking. "You said you're a doctor, so you understand, right?"

"Oh, yes. I can't really wear anything at all," You said with a soft chuckle.

"Not even a ring? Oh, your husband must be disappointed." 

You felt your face heat up, scratching your neck awkwardly. "I'm not married."

She smiled. “Oh, good for you then. It’s literal hell. And, you get to ogle your partner all day.”

You choked on your spit, coughing awkwardly. “I-I’m sorry, what?”

She laughed, waving her hands, “Oh, Agent L/N, don’t be so modest. You can’t deny that Agent Suh is an absolute dish. Why, if I were 25 years younger… oh my, the things I would—”

“I really must be going, Mrs. Walker,” You insisted quickly. “I’ll contact you should I have any other questions for you."

“Could I have your phone number, in case anything comes up? I-I’ll admit, this whole situation has frightened me a bit.”

You nodded sympathetically, ignoring how uncomfortable you’d felt a moment ago. Pulling out Johnny's pen and your notepad, and you jotted down your number there.

“Y/N?” A knock sounded, and Johnny popped his head in the door. “We need to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” You replied, tucking the notepad back into your pocket. You bid Mrs. Walker goodbye, and off you went, kitten heels clacking as you went.

As for your time with Johnny? The entire ride there was tense.

“Were you expecting that?” He asked a few minutes into the ride. You raised an eyebrow.

“The secret cult that forced a nine year old girl to murder puppies and kittens?” You answered in a clipped tone, “No, John. I can’t say I was.”

He hummed. "Okay… no tape recorder today?"

"I forgot it. Left it at the hotel."

He nodded, and that was that. 

Her mother and adoptive stepfather were, to say the least, shocked at their daughter's confession. You spoke to the girl's mother in the living room, Johnny spoke to her father. Mrs. Howard, whom Phoebe had insisted had never said anything was beside herself, crying as she spoke to you.

“Mrs. Howard, you’re absolutely sure you’ve never witnessed any violent behavior from your husband?”

She nodded, sniffling. “He’s always treated me and Phoebe very kindly. In front of me, at least.”

You hummed, looking down at the carpeted floor. “You said this is your husband's house, and he’s lived here longer than you have? Have you been in all parts of the house? Is there maybe an area a guest might not know about?”

She looked up at the ceiling in thought. “After hearing what Phoebe told you both, it made me realize that I’d never been in the basement. Grant’s always said that was his woodworking space, and he didn’t want anyone in there.”

With a nod, you looked at her. “Could my partner and I maybe take a look at--” 

A commotion from the kitchen cut you off.

“I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING OF THE SORT! I DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE ACCUSING ME OF, SUH!”

You shot up, and so did Mrs. Howard, just in time to see Grant Howard push Johnny into the cabinet. Your training kicked in, and you stepped between the two, holding up your hands to placate the man. 

“Calm down, now,” You growled, dangerously low, “Or I will place you under arrest for assault of an officer.” 

“Grant,” Mrs. Howard called, “Breathe.”

“Leave, both of you! If you want to see my basement, get a damn warrant and you’ll see there’s nothing down there!”

You tugged Johnny away by the wrist, leaving out the front door. “What happened?” 

Johnny shook his head in aggravation. “I asked to see the basement, said that it would clear my suspicions of him. He said he didn’t hurt Phoebe, and I said I didn’t believe him. Then he snapped, grabbed me by the collar and shook me.”

He unlocked the car. “Should we try and get that warrant?”

You got into the passenger seat, shrugging. “I can do it.”

Johnny nodded. “Hopefully we’ll find—”

A ringing from Johnny’s phone caught him off guard. He fished the phone out from his pocket, answering, “Suh.”

“Sheriff, what’s going on?”

You could hear him through the speaker, and you didn't like what you heard. 

"We'll be there right away," Johnny said, face turning serious.

ROOM 471, FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—17:37 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

"You're saying she just… had a seizure?"

"I was sitting at the desk, and she was about halfway through the dissection when she just… collapsed on the floor," Mrs. Walker said, voice trembling, "She was shaking and her eyes were rolled up into her head… Agent L/N, it was terrifying."

You sighed and looked at Johnny, who was speaking with the sheriff. When you looked back at Mrs. Walker, she was shaking her head. "I feel a dark force is among us, Agent L/N," She murmured, putting a hand on her chest, "So many horrible things in such a short span of time."

"Agent Suh and I are working hard to solve the case, Mrs. Walker. I promise we're doing our best."

"Y/N," Johnny called, "We gotta go."

You bid the older woman goodbye, and she gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. Once you were out the door with Johnny, your voice lowered. "What do you got?"

"Not a lot. The Howards have been notified, but Grant Howard isn't being allowed into her hospital room."

"Who called the police?"

"Clinton."

"Clinton?" 

He shook his head, grimacing to himself. "Shit, sorry. Beatrice Pratt. The secretary." 

You stared at him. "Pratt and Clinton don't sound alike at all."

"Well, yeah, but…" He scratched his head and lowered his voice. "The pantsuit and the bob remind me of the first lady."

You frowned. "I wear pantsuits all the time."

"Yeah, but you don't look like Hillary Clinton."

You sighed. You didn’t have time for this, especially when he was still mad at you. "Okay. Sure, whatever. I talked to Walker. I… I'm not so sure about her."

Johnny tilted his head. "Why not?"

"I don't know. I don't have a lot to go off of, but it seems just a little bit odd that she shows up the morning of Mark Lee's death, replacing a man who apparently hasn't missed a day in a fifteen year career."

"Maybe he had an emergency. Happens to everyone."

"Johnny, he contracted flesh eating bacteria. Does that sound like something that happens to everyone?"

He didn't answer. Obviously, he hadn’t been expecting that. "Ohhh-kay, then. Let's do this. The sheriff said that the warrant should be ready within a few hours. Howard would probably beat my ass if he sees me again, so you check out that basement, and I can do the background check on Walker. Sound good?"

"Actually, I don't think you'll need a warrant."

The two of you turned, stunned, to see Grant Howard standing in front of you both. His eyes were rimmed red and he was clearly restless, shifting his weight onto his legs constantly. 

"Agent L/N, I'll show you the basement."

HOWARD RESIDENCE, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—18:09 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

"My entire life," The man said, sounding tired, "I was taught that humans are no better, no worse than animals. Do what thou willst, rather than do unto others." 

He pulled open the basement door, gesturing for you to go first. Immediately, you were on edge. If you had your back turned he could easily push you down the stairs or hit you in the head.

"You go down first," You ordered. He nodded understandingly. "You were saying?""My family has kept this religion for seven generations. My great, great, great, great grandfather was born in 1777, Agent L/N, and he was the one who brought us into it. We've been keeping it alive since, with two other families. It kept us in good health, we had no money problems."

When the two of you got to the bottom of the stairs, he turned the light on and you realized Mrs. Howard had been right, it did look like a normal woodworking space. Until Mr. Howard pulled a rug up from the ground to reveal a hatch, which he pulled up to reveal another set of stairs.

"I was raised to believe that Christianity was synonymous with hypocrisy. And for years, I believed that." He led you down this pair of stairs again, where he lit his flashlight. The room was a bit smaller than the basement but still large enough to keep a large group of people like Phoebe had said. Also identical to her story were the red walls and the dirt floor.

 "Believed?"

"Believed," He confirmed. "I believed until I saw it in my own religion as well, not even an hour ago. When I got to the school to gather my things and was met by the heads of the other 2 families, asking me to pin the murder of Mark Lee on my own daughter. That if she were permanently affected by what just happened, we could get away with all of it. That was when I knew that I was better than an animal. I need to keep Phoebe and Linda safe."

"So one of you did murder Lee," You murmured, trying to get a solid confession. However, he shook his head. "I didn't. The others insist they didn't either." 

"Who did, then?"

He sighed. "Agent L/N, you have to understand, I'm trained in these arts so I know when there’s a difference somewhere. Something is here. Something bad."

 You frowned. "Alright. Did you or did you not abuse your daughter?"

"I never laid a hand on her. The others, however… they wanted to make sure she would stay quiet through fear, and they wouldn't listen to me. We have a ritual that blocks out memories, every time we would perform that ritual when we were done. The plan was to reveal the memories when she turned 18, and then allow her to join or reject the religion. It's a rite of passage."

"Why even use Phoebe in the first place?"

He shook his head. "The magic of an innocent soul is a powerful thing. It's one of the most powerful things we could ever use in our magic. That's also why we used those sacrifices. She was the youngest of all of our children. The others were all past 11 at that age."

With a sigh, you led him up back to the main basement. "Would you be willing to give me a written statement of who the heads of these families are?"

He nodded. "Of course. I just want my daughter and my wife to be safe. They believe that whatever's here wants a sacrifice. That it took Mark Lee as a warning to us, and unless it gets a sacrifice from us…"

"It'll strike again," You finished."And it won't stop." He sounded desperate. You found your notepad, but the pen was nowhere to be found. "Do you have a—"

Your cellphone ringing interrupted you. You groaned quietly, scooping it from your pocket. "Hello?"

"Y/N?" You heard Johnny's voice say. His tone was urgent. There was a faint crackle of static, but as you listened it began to get louder. "I'm at the school. You need to hurry, Y/N, there's something—!"

The static overpowered the sound of his voice, and then the call dropped. "Johnny? Johnny! Hello?"

Your heart dropped, and you tucked the phone and the notepad into your pocket. "I need to go. My partner's in trouble."

"I'll go with you," He offered.

You shook your head. "No. You're under arrest."

"What? But—"

"You just admitted to animal abuse, your complicity in child abuse and conspiracy. If I take you to the school, how do I know you won't take the other two and bolt?" You snapped. "Against that beam, there.

Pulling out some handcuffs, you forced him against the side of the stairs, where you handcuffed him to the railing. "I'll come back for you later," You growled, "Don't move."

Rushing up the stairs, and out the door, into the rain, you ran towards the car. Johnny needed you. 

Your friend needed you.

FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—18:30 hours, February 12th, 1993

You burst into the school, trying to keep calm despite the horrid feeling in your gut. You eyed the office, which was right next to the main entrance. The lights were on, you could see your laptop was on. But the seat was empty, and so was the rest of the office, or so it seemed to be from where you were standing. Taking a deep breath, you pulled out your gun, and entered the office slowly. 

"Hello?" You called, looking into the window of Doyoung’s office. Empty. The principal's office? Empty. Your mouth felt dry. 

Where was Johnny?

"Y/N?"

In a moment your professors at the academy would've been ashamed to see, you shrieked, and turned the gun in the direction the voice came from. But when you realized it was Johnny with a styrofoam coffee cup, whose eyes had gone wide at the sight of the gun pointed at him, you lowered it.

"Don't fucking scare me like that," You muttered as you tucked the gun into its holster. A second later, you raced forward, engulfing him in a hug as you realized that he was okay.

"Y/N? What's… going on?"

You pulled away once it registered what you'd done. "Sorry," You mumbled. "What happened? Where did the thing go?"

"Y/N, what are you talking about?"

You shook your head in confusion. "You called me. You said you were in danger. My heart fell out of my ass, Johnny, what happened?"

Johnny's face contorted at your statement. "Huh? Y/N, I never even touched my phone. I was running the background check on Walker—who, by the way, is pretty much clear in the system. But… I don't know."

Staring at him, you put your hands on your hips. "Johnny, I heard your… never mind. We have to go. Howard confessed."

His eyebrows shot up. "He did it?"

"No, but he admitted to conspiracy and has names. Come on, we have to go."

For the millionth time today, you made your way from the school to the Howard residence, where you found the door was still open. As you opened the door to the basement, you looked at him.

"He's down here."Johnny turned on his flashlight, and you followed him down the steps. The room was eerily quiet, and when Johnny flashed the light at where you said he was, it was empty.You huffed at the sight of the empty handcuffs. How had he slipped out of them?

"Y/N," Johnny said, flashing the light a few feet away, "Look."

You turned to see what he was pointing at. Your eyes widened at the sight of bones, tinged pink with the small chunks of meat still attached to it.

"Do you think it might be some kind of acid?" You asked, and Johnny shook his head.

"There's no sign of a reaction on the floor," He answered, flashing the light around the basement floor. He stopped a few feet away. You felt yourself grow even more confused.

"Is that—?

""Snakeskin," Johnny whispered, "...There's a python in Walker's class."

"B-but, that's not possible," You muttered, "It would take a snake hours to consume a grown man, and weeks to digest it!"

Johnny grabbed your wrist, shaking his head at your rambling. "C'mon, Einstein," He told you, "We gotta go pay Walker a visit."

ROOM 471, FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—19:01 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

The school was a lot darker than when it had been when you had been there previously. Seeing the halls, which you'd grown used to being full and lit up, suddenly so dark and empty made you uneasy.

 It was raining a lot harder now. The sound of the rain pelting the roof made it harder to listen for anything. When you got to Walker's room, it was also dark. She said she'd be here until eight grading papers, but the room was empty. There were some broken beakers on one of the lab tables, and when you really strained your ears to listen, the sound of soft yet strained breathing could be heard behind the desk. 

"Mrs. Walker?" You called, slowly walking towards the desk. Johnny tried the light, but to no avail. The rain must have knocked it out.

The woman was on the floor, nose bleeding and leg bent at an angle at which legs weren't meant to bend at all. She seemed to have been hit in the head, a sizable lump protruding from her temple.

"Th-the snake—" She mumbled, "They took the snake—He hit me,"

"Who, Mrs. Walker, who?"

"Kim," She spat out, "Pratt. I think they—think they killed that boy."

Doyoung and Beatrice. You and Johnny exchanged glances, and you remembered what Grant had said.

"Did you see where they went, Mrs. Walker?" Johnny asked. She blinked hazily.

"Said something about the conference room," She muttered.

"We'll call paramedics for you, okay?" You stood, trying to reassure her gently. "You'll be fine."

Johnny had already picked up the phone. Thunder crackled overhead as he dialed the number, but you could hear the busy tone all the way from where you were standing

."Damn storm is jamming the signal," He said, "Y/N, we gotta go, now."

"Johnny, what about—"

"Y/N," He growled, "Now."

Something about his tone set you off, and you did as he said. He immediately shut the door, and sped up his steps down the hall. 

"What was that about?" You asked, turning on your flashlight and trying to keep up with his pace. 

"Y/N, do you have that pen you borrowed from me yesterday?" He asked, not slowing down. Thunder rumbled overhead.

"What?" He had a point, probably. He always did when he got like this. "No, I dropped it I think."

"The pen was on Walker's desk. Next to the phone. Next to Phoebe's bracelet. It was my pen."

You inhaled sharply as Johnny tugged the door to the conference room open. "What are you implying?"

"Walker was clear in the system. But when I was talking to the principal yesterday, she couldn't even remember hiring her. What are the odds that a woman pops up out of nowhere the same day a murder happens?"

You pulled a filing cabinet open, looking through random folders. "Okay, yes, we agree. But what if—"

"Y/N, did you not see how tall she was?"

You shook your head, turning to pull out some papers from a file. "Sure, she's a bit taller than average, but she's shorter than you—"

"She's slouching to look smaller. Trust me, I did that when I was younger. If she stood up straight, she would be taller than me. Donghyuck said the thing that grabbed Mark was tall, had female breasts, and had dark hair. She fits the profile."

You sighed. "I mean, maybe you—"

A thud! and a groan from Johnny had you turning your head. Your flashlight landed on Johnny, on the ground, unconscious. Your body turned cold. 

"Johnny—?"

But then you felt something hit you in the back of the head, and everything went dark. 

Your eyes cracked open at the sensation of being dragged, and as your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized two things. 

One, you arms and legs were bound, and there was a gag placed in your mouth. You craned your head, and Johnny was in the same situation as you, only he was still unconscious. 

And two, you were being dragged by Hillary Clinton. 

Shit, no. Maybe you'd hit your head harder than expected. Your vision cleared up further, and you realized it wasn't, in fact, Hillary Clinton, but rather Beatrice Pratt. Doyoung was dragging Johnny, and then you realized what was going on. 

These were the others that Grant Howard had been referring to. They seemingly hadn't realized you were awake yet. You were in the school gymnasium, headed towards a doorway in the corner. The room was dark, occasionally lit by flashes of lightning.

"—The showers, right?" Doyoung asked, sounding out of breath. Beatrice huffed. 

"Yes. The blood will get washed away there."

You couldn’t move your hands, no matter how much you squirmed. Your eyes looked at Johnny, who was beginning to stir. His brows furrowed, mouth trying to form words. 

“Oh, you’re awake,” Doyoung hummed, disdain dripping from his voice, “Lovely.”

Johnny’s eyes cracked open, immediately glaring at Doyoung, who chuckled. “Please. I’m terrified.”

“Doyoung, shut up,” Beatrice snapped. “Open the door.”

Doyoung let Johnny’s legs fall onto the floor. Johnny groaned in discomfort as Doyoung opened the door, propping it open with something.

He approached Johnny again, but before he picked him up to drag him further, he landed a swift kick to Johnny’s gut. Johnny let out a muffled moan in pain, and you thrashed against your restraints.

“You just had to come and ruin everything, huh? This is a once in a century opportunity, and you--” He proceeded to kick Johnny again, over and over, “Just--won’t--quit.”

“Doyoung!” Beatrice snapped. “We don’t have time for this. Don’t you sense it getting angrier? If we don’t sacrifice them now, it’ll take us like it took Grant.”

Doyoung turned to her, breathing heavily through his nose. “Fine,” He bit out.

They dragged you into the bathrooms, leading you to the showers, where they dumped you both next to each other. You rolled onto your side to look at Johnny, whose eyes were screwed shut in pain. His breathing was labored. 

You squirmed again, trying to free yourself as the shower roared to life. Curling in on yourself as cold water soaked your body, you tried to think of a way to save both Johnny and yourself. Doyoung and Beatrice pulled out large daggers from their  coat pockets, and raised their arms to the sky. They began chanting in latin, but the roar of water, the shock of the cold temperature, and the panic beginning to set in caused the words to blur together. 

This was it. You and Johnny were going to die. 

Until the two of them crumpled on top of you. You jumped as Doyoung’s weight toppled onto you, eyes squeezing shut in pain. His elbow had landed on your stomach. For a moment, as you lay there reeling in pain, and you wondered if this was a part of the ritual. But then…

"Agent L/N?" Your eyes shot open, and you met eyes with Amy Espinoza. She managed an awkward attempt at a polite smile, fiddling with what she was holding in her hands. Your eyes widened when you registered the shotgun. A flashlight was duct-taped haphazardly to the barrel, probably so that she could see wherever she was aiming.

"Mmh-hffpnffh?" You couldn't stop yourself from trying to speak, unable to contain your surprise. 

A second set of hands turned off the shower, and you craned your neck to see Donghyuck Lee, holding an old baseball bat underneath his armpit. He pulled Beatrice off of Johnny, making a disgusted face. "I always knew there was something up with her," He grumbled, "She never laughed at my jokes."

"Yeah, 'cause you're annoying as shit," Amy countered, pushing Doyoung to the side. "Can you guys sit up?"

She untied your hands, and you got to work on untying your feet before pulling the gag off of your mouth. 

"What are you two doing here?" Johnny asked, voice raspy and out of breath. 

You stood up, wiping water off of your face. "Where did you get that gun?"

 "Oh." Amy suddenly sounded embarrassed. "I, uh… Stole it from my dad?

"Donghyuck helped Johnny stand. "We went to visit Phoebe in the hospital, Mr. Suh—"

"Agent Suh," Johnny corrected, bringing a hand to his stomach. "Whatever. Anyway, we went to visit and once she woke up she told us something… not good."

"Mrs. Walker is the thing," Amy said. "Phoebe said she was dissecting the pig and she saw her grab the bracelet she'd given her—"

"And she did something and her eyes turned orange, like the thing we saw in the woods!" Amy continued. "The officer that was there didn't believe her, but we did."

"So we decided to take matters into our own hands," Donghyuck said. "She killed our best friend, so we thought—"

"That coming to your school with a shotgun and a wooden baseball bat, to kill a demon was the best course of action?" You didn't sound amused, and the two of them exchanged a look.

Amy looked down. "Well… when you put it like that…"

"It doesn't matter," Johnny said. "You kids need to go home now. It's not safe for either of you." 

"Like hell we're going anywhere! We were able to save you guys, so—"

“You kids got lucky this one time," You pointed out, sounding stern, "Agent Suh and I are trained for dangerous situations like this. You two aren't, and we certainly aren't about to expose you kids to one. Go home."

You searched your pockets, not finding your gun. You crouched to look through Doyoung and Beatrice's pockets, handing Johnny's gun to him and putting your gun back into your holster.

"But—"

A large crack of thunder startled you all, and the ground seemed to rumble as it did. Johnny looked past you and the kids, at the end of the shower hallway, and inhaled sharply.

"Oh, that's so much worse than Hillary Clinton," He mumbled. You didn't even see what he meant, but in that split second something in you took over. You pulled Donghyuck behind you, Johnny grabbing Amy and doing the same. 

At the same time, Amy aimed the gun to where Johnny had been looking, the light landing on...

Donghyuck gasped. "Holy shit."

It was like exactly what Donghyuck had said, except worse. Glowing, orange eyes, goat legs, stringy black hair. Johnny was right—standing like this, she was much taller than him. Her jaw was unhinged, open impossibly wide. She was panting heavily, hobbling slowly towards you. 

You and Johnny pulled out your guns, shooting instantly. One hit her in the shoulder, the other in the stomach. Her jaw opened even further, and a blood curdling screech echoed throughout the tiled room. 

Then she broke out into a run. 

You forced yourself to stand still, shooting another round before she jumped over you. Out of the corner of your eye, Donghyuck swung the bat, hitting her in the leg, causing her to fall face first to the ground.

 Taking that advantage, Johnny fired another round into her back. She shrieked again, and you and Johnny took the opportunity to run out the door, pushing the kids with you.

"Go! Both of you, now," You ordered once you were in the gym again. They shook their heads. Donghyuck held up his bat.

"We're not leaving without—"

"Donghyuck, this isn't a movie," Johnny insisted, "Now go!"

 Amy grabbed his arm. "Hyuck, they're right, we have to—LOOK OUT!"

You turned to see what had once been Mrs. Walker stick its head out of the doorway. Amy was able to fire one last shot into it, with her shotgun. You didn’t see where it hit—the door shut and you heard one final wail. 

A few moments later, the lights flickered on. You stood there, clothes dripping onto the hardwood floor for a good minute or so, until you looked at Johnny, who wore a pained grimace. "I can check," You told him. "Stay here with the kids." 

"You sure?" He asked. You nodded, holding out your gun and slowly making your way towards the door. You spared the odd trio one final glance. 

Johnny—soaking wet hair falling into his eyes—was standing in front of them, aiming his gun at the door. Donghyuck was holding his bat up, Amy's MacGyver-esque flashlight gun making you squint.

Then, you opened the door. You could feel your heart hammering a mile a minute. Very slowly, you scanned the room. You stopped when you glanced at the showerhead Beatrice and Doyoung had placed you under—the same one they should have been under, knocked unconscious. You swallowed a lump in your throat. 

Because they weren’t there, and neither was Mrs. Walker. What you did see, however, were two large streak of blood dragged up the wall and to a window, staining the green tiles.

PRINCIPAL'S OFFICE, FRANKLIN PIERCE HIGH SCHOOL, BELDAM'S GLENN, NEW HAMPSHIRE—20:47 hours, Friday, February 12th, 1993

The four of you made your way back to the main building on high alert. The rain seemed to have stopped once the thing was gone. Amazingly, there wasn't even a cloud in the sky. Even the air felt different—cleaner.

Shockingly, this time when Johnny tried the phone again, it worked. In order, he called the sheriff, who had no issue believing the ordeal you had gone through. Then the principal, who was incredibly confused as to how four of her teachers could vanish in one night.

 And then, you turned to the kids and gestured to the phone. "Alright, your turn now. Call your parents, both of you."

If they were more afraid of the murderous hellspawn they'd just helped you fight off, it didn't show. "Please just let us go now, Agent L/N," Donghyuck pleaded, "My mom will never let me leave my house again after this."

Amy shook her head. "My dad's gonna kill me if he finds out I stole the gun again."

Johnny made a face. "Again?"

She turned even paler when she realized her screw up. "I'm not going to omit witnesses from a report because you'll get grounded," You told them. "You're good kids, with good intentions. You just lost someone and had another friend go through something traumatic, we get that. But what you did tonight was incredibly dangerous, reckless, and—and—"

"Stupid?" Johnny offered.

"Johnny!" You snapped, lowering your voice. He shrugged.

You sighed, trying to get them to understand. "Alright, listen. There's a Yellow Pages over on that desk. If you don't call them, I will, or the sheriff will. Which would scare your parents less, huh? Getting a call from their kids, from the sheriff's department, or from the goddamn federal bureau of investigation?"

If they didn't get it before, they definitely understood now. Amy took the fall first, telling her dad she'd brought her car to the school, had gotten into trouble, and needed him to come by to talk to the police. She left out the gun, much to your amusement.

While Donghyuck did the same, you pulled Johnny into the hallway to speak to him.

"Are you okay?" You asked, "Doyoung seemed to kick you pretty hard." 

"I'll take a few days off once we get back to DC, I'll be fine," He murmured. He leaned against the wall and winced.

You nodded, but weren't sure how to respond. Finally, you spoke again.

"Look, about last night," You said softly, and he looked up in thought. 

"What about it?" He didn't seem to want to meet your eyes.

You took a step forward. "Johnny, other than when we first met, have I ever treated you like you were crazy?" 

Your voice was quieter now, gentler in its approach. He looked to the side, crossing his arms. "...No."

You shrugged, before sighing. "It's not that I don't trust you. I have my scientific conclusions. You have yours. Every time I see something I can't explain I try to explain it with what I do know. Tonight was… insane, and you were right. But honestly? It just reinforced my wanting to go the scientific route every time we have a case."

He frowned. "Why? You saw Walker."

"Exactly." You crossed your arms. "If I went into every single case, expecting to see that or something even worse? God. I… I don't know how you do it, John."

He smiled, but still didn't meet your eyes. "I didn't mean what I said last night either. Y'know… that. Or at least, I didn't realize I didn't mean it until today. I… I care about you, Johnny. I really do. You're smart, and you're really funny, and you give me perspectives I wouldn't consider otherwise."

He looked at you, and you put a hand on his upper arm. "I'm glad I have a friend like you to work with," You admitted, "And I'm glad you're okay."

His smile grew, and he let out a chuckle. "There's no one else in the bureau I would rather be murdered by Hillary Clinton with," He said, with the most endearing tone possible. You burst into laughter, Johnny joining you. He stepped closer, pulling you into a hug as you continued to laugh. Your eyes shut, and despite Johnny's cold, damp clothes pressing against your cold, damp clothes, it still warmed your chest. The two of you stood together for a while, enjoying each other's embrace. His chin rested on your head, and you sighed happily. Johnny gave good hugs.

"Uhh, Agent Suh?"

Johnny and you broke away immediately. Johnny cleared his throat."Uhh, yes, Donghyuck?"Amy and Donghyuck exchanged a glance from the office doorway. "Uh, my mom said she'll be here soon. A-and I saw some police lights across the street, so…"

"Oh." Johnny straightened his tie. "Thank you."

A few seconds later, the sound of sirens came into proximity. You took a look at these two kids, and despite the stress they'd caused you, you felt an odd fondness in your heart. 

“Come on, you two," Johnny murmured, "Time to go."

X-FILE 229-B: THE SAN CEFERINO SHIFTER

FBI HEADQUARTERS, WASHINGTON, D.C—07:08 hours, Wednesday, July 6th, 1994

On this particular summer morning, you were enjoying the air conditioner for as long as you could wait. You'd be flying to San Ceferino, California, twenty minutes outside of San Francisco. 

The assignment was at a gated community where three women had been found dead within the span of three weeks. You and Johnny would be sent in to investigate due to a strange, unidentifiable residue being found on the bodies. A local detective had contacted the bureau for help.

The kicker? For some reason, due to some sensitivities of having their community "invaded" the head of the community had requested you be placed undercover.

So what was the bureau's idea? "Moving" you and Johnny into the community, posing as a newlywed couple. 

Yikes.

This seemed like a bad idea to you, but you didn't say anything. Because if you spoke up to your superiors, they'd ask why, and you'd be forced to explain. 

"I got the flight tickets and our fake profiles!" Johnny entered your shared office, causing you to look up from the case file.

"Oh, nice. Who are we?"

He curled his lip, making a face. "Whoever makes up these names should be demoted, I swear to god. My name is Fox. Fox Kang. Who the hell names their kid Fox—"

You stifled a laugh as you grabbed the file from him, flipping to yours. Dana Baker. A bit ordinary, but the more inconspicuous, the better, you figured. 

"God, I kind of don't want to go," You hummed, "It's hot enough as it is here in Washington. I don't wanna imagine the California heat."

"Well, suck it up," He said, but he didn't sound dismissive. "We're leaving in three hours. We still have to pick up our undercover wardrobe and get to the airport, y'know?"

Frowning at the profile, you nodded half-heartedly. It stated that your backstory was that of college sweethearts at Cornell in the 80s. He was class of 1984, you of 1986. You were moving to California two months after getting married, because "Fox" got a job offer just outside of San Francisco. 

"You're staring at that paper like you're Nancy Kerrigan and it just broke your knee," Johnny pointed out, "You okay?"

"Huh?" You looked at him, swallowing. "Oh… yeah. I'm fine. I'm just a bit… unsure about the whole marriage thing." 

Johnny shrugged, offering an amused smile. "Really, Y/N. We've been working together for two years and you still find me that unbearable?"

You laughed, standing and circling your desk to stand in front of him. "No, not at all. I'm just not the best when it comes to undercover work."

Johnny leaned against the desk, smiling sympathetically. "Well, I'm no Tom Hanks either. But if you think about it, we spend all our time together anyway. It's not that big of a stretch to say we might as well be."

"We definitely argue like one," You fired back. You both laughed, simply staring at each other in silence once it quieted down. Johnny's eyes studied you up and down, dark eyes warm. He was wearing his glasses today. 

You wondered if he was judging your outfit, because he did that sometimes with other people. Apparently, before he became interested in criminal psychology he'd wanted to become a fashion designer, or so he told you. Six months later after he'd told you that and you still weren't sure if he was joking or not.

"What are you looking at?" You asked. He shook his head. 

"...Nothing. Let's get going?"

The two of you picked up your faux suitcases—the bureau had a department full of fake clothes for agents going undercover needing to fit a certain persona. The two of you were nothing close to the white picket fence suburban life, so you were better off picking up some fake clothes.

You laughed when you saw the first outfit Johnny had been given. A pastel yellow LaCoste polo shirt, and grayish blue dress shorts. He glowered at you when he saw your face.

"Oh, yeah, very funny."

Your outfit wasn't much better. High rise, light wash jeans and another polo, this one bright red, a pair of dark red casual loafers to match. Johnny didn't laugh, but it was clear he was trying not to.

You decided to sleep on the plane. There wasn't a lot to look over, as you'd received the file the night before. By now, you knew the drill. 

You dreamt you were back in that hotel room in Oregon. Johnny was kneeling beneath you, but you still hadn't taken your robe off. He was saying something, but you couldn't understand what. His eyes were full of a warm emotion that you couldn't quite place.

Until he raised his arms to try and remove the robe. This time, when he spoke, you could hear him clearly. "This is what you wanted me to do, right?"

Your hands grabbed his. "What? Johnny, I… Well…" 

He stood, face impossibly close to yours. There was an odd smile on his face. "Don't worry," He murmured. "I want to, too."

Slowly, your hands let go of his and he began to pull off the robe. You didn’t protest. When you were bare, his hands slid to the skin of your waist, and he pulled you against him. His forehead pressed against yours.

"Johnny, are you sure?"

"Y/N," He said with a smile, "We are beginning our descent into LAX. Please put on your seatbelts and put up your trays."

You jumped awake in your seat, eyes impossibly wide. A laugh from beside you caused you to turn your head. Johnny was giggling into his palm. 

"What?" You asked, voice raspy from sleeping. 

"Oh my god, that was beautiful," He declared, "You were sleeping so peacefully and then, oh my god, that was hilarious."

"Ha, ha, ha." Your tone was devoid of any emotion. You rubbed your eyes, yawning slightly. "What time is it, here?"

"Three hour time difference. It's one PM." 

You nodded. And you still had a six hour car ride. Lovely. 

SOMEWHERE ALONG THE I-5, CALIFORNIA—15:22, Wednesday, July 6th, 1994

"Couldn't they have just flown us to San Francisco and have us drive from there?" Johnny complained after being cut off by yet another car. 

You sighed. "Budget cuts, I guess. We're not infiltrating the mafia, or taking down human trafficking rings."

"Yeah, we just fight the boogeyman and the little green men," He agreed. You laughed. 

"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we hadn't gotten assigned together?" He sounded wistful, not taking his eyes off of the road. 

"I don't know." You picked at a loose thread on your jeans. "I would probably still be teaching at the academy. I think Brooks was considering placing you with Jung if I wasn't up for it."

"Jaehyun Jung?" He turned his head, making a face. "Really? He hates me."

"He doesn't hate you," You insisted, "He just thinks like me, science before all, except… less nice about it."

"You sure?" He asked, fiddling with the radio, "Every time we're in a room together, I catch him staring at me like he's trying to shoot lasers into my head, the prick."

You shrugged. "He's nice to me."

"That's just 'cause he's trying to get into your pants."

You hummed. Jaehyun was pretty handsome. "Would that be such a bad thing?" 

He coughed, shrugging. "Well, it's your love life. You do you."

The air turned awkward. Johnny fiddled with the radio, but in this particular stretch of the interstate, all that came up was a Latin beats radio. Trumpets, and soft snare drums filled the car. You immediately recognized Selena's Bidi Bidi Bom Bom, a song about a girl realizing her heart went crazy whenever her lover passed by—while you didn’t listen to a lot of Latin music, you had a friend who did and always played this song when you met up.

Me tiemblan hasta las piernas

Y el corazon igual

Se emociona, ya no razona

No lo puedo controlar

"Oh, I hate this song," Johnny mumbled, reaching to turn the radio off.

"No, wait! I like it." You pushed his hand away. He groaned, but didn't turn it off. 

Y me canta así, me canta así…

Bidi bidi bom bom, bidi bidi bom bom

Bidi bidi bidi bidi bidi bom bom

Bidi bidi bidi bidi bidi bom bom

So, the two of you continued on listening to Selena, Johnny silently pouting. 

"So, what were you dreaming about on the plane?"

"Huh?" You cleared your throat.

"Yeah, you said my name in your sleep."

You shifted in your seat. "Oh… Um. I can't even remember."

He hummed, but didn't say anything. The drive continued on, both of you alternating between discussing mundane things and the case. All of them had been found in their homes, with no sign of a struggle—which suggested they knew their assailant. They'd all been strangled to death. No odd fingerprints could be recovered from the crime scenes. 

The first victim lived alone. The other two's husbands had solid alibis that were confirmed by the police. 

Which meant that it had to be someone in the neighborhood. There was reportedly a strong sense of community there, which was part of why the bureau had you going undercover. 

Around six, the two of you rolled into San Francisco, for a brief stop to talk to the detective who had contacted the bureau, a woman named Wendy Son. 

The two of you rolled into the precinct, and upon showing your badges, were prompted to the woman’s office. She had her light brown hair tied up in a ponytail, wearing a black pantsuit similar to what you would wear, had you not been dressed like a soccer mom.

"Oh, thank you for coming," She said once you sat down. "I have some extra material here that I wasn't able to fax you."

She pulled out a folder, setting it in front of you on the desk. Johnny opened it to reveal more images you hadn't initially seen. 

"We sent the sample to Los Angeles because their laboratory has a higher capacity," She told you both, "They still weren't able to identify it, but apparently it apparently has an a mild tranquilizing enzyme. That might also be why there wasn't much of a struggle." 

Johnny hummed. "There aren't any cameras in San Ceferino, are there?" 

Detective Son shook her head. "Only around the perimeter and the gates." 

"Maybe there's something there," You said, "Could we have access to those tapes?"

She looked back down at the pictures. "I could certainly get it to you by tomorrow afternoon, though. Come in past two and I should have it by then."

Johnny nodded and smiled at her. "That would be great, thank you." 

She smiled, and you'd have to be blind to not notice the blush on her face. She handed him the keys to the house that the heads of the community had arranged to have semi-furnished ahead of your arrival. The rest would be arriving tomorrow in the morning, during which time you would go through the motions of being a newlywed couple moving into their “forever home”.

Johnny apparently was blind, though. He didn't say anything about it once you were both back in the car. You couldn't really blame her. 

Johnny was… well, he was Johnny. He was incredibly handsome, and funny. Any reasonable person interested in men would find him attractive. 

"Detective Son likes you," You told him as you were getting onto the road that led to San Ceferino.

"Does she?" He answered, smiling smugly. "She's pretty."

You don't know why that ignited something in you. "You think so?"

He nodded. "She seems nice. But I'm not interested."

The odd sensation in your chest simmered down. "No?"

"Not really. I'm not interested in something long distance. Plus, I work too much to have a relationship."

You nodded. "Yeah. I understand."

You arrived as the sun was setting, around seven. The two of you pulled into the gate to the place, where you introduced yourselves with your fake names to the guard. He checked his roster of approved people and let you both in. 

San Ceferino consisted of four different cul de sacs, each house practically identical. The house you would be staying in was towards the end of the second one. The house was a pale pastel yellow, orange rays of the sunset making it seem a deeper color. Your car rolled into “your” driveway, and with a sigh of relief, Johnny turned the car off. 

“I’m so tired,” He groaned, “Should we try and introduce ourselves today or tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow,” You said, letting your head fall back against the headrest, “These people are probably all having dinner or something, it’d be weird for us to do that now.”

He nodded, and got out of the car to open the trunk. You got out to grab your suitcase, and as you were getting out you realized that just maybe the universe disagreed with your decision to wait to meet others around the neighborhood.

A woman was crossing the street. She seemed a bit older than you both but was still dressed almost identically. You walked over to Johnny, who had his back turned, and tapped him on the shoulder. “Fox,” You mumbled, “We’ve got company.”

He turned, and upon spotting the woman flashed a comically fake smile. You offered the friendliest smile you could muster, but the way her eyes lit up when doing a once over of Johnny and then drooping in disappointment once she spotted you. If she thought she was subtle, she was dead wrong.

“Hi,” She said, impossibly enthusiastic, “I’m Anne Morrison. I’m the head of the Homeowners Association.”

You nodded in greeting. “It’s nice to meet you,” You said, holding out your hand, “I’m Dana. This is… my husband, Fox.”

“Fox,” She repeated, turning to look at Johnny, “That’s a lovely name. So, what brings you two to San Ceferino?”

“Oh, I got a job offer in San Francisco a few months ago,” Johnny answered. He was good, you decided. “We looked at some houses in the city, but it’s so busy there, you know? We were living in Maryland, so the transition between small town and big city… it’s not for us.”

She nodded, eyes wide. “I absolutely understand. My ex-husband wanted to move to the city now that our kids are in college. I don’t enjoy any of the hustle and bustle, really.” She chuckled, “So guess who got the house in the divorce!”

You and Johnny exchanged a glance, then laughed as if it was the funniest thing you’d ever heard. “Oh, my goodness,” You wheezed, clutching your hand in your chest, “I can imagine!”

“So, what do you two do?”

“I’m an architect,” Johnny said.

“I’m a publicist.” You scratched at your cheek when you felt a mosquito try to land. Her eyes zeroed in on your hand.

“You two are married, right?” She asked, “How come you’re not wearing your rings?”

You froze. Did the bureau even have fake jewelry? Why didn’t either of you think of that detail?

“Oh,” Johnny shrugged, coming to the rescue. “It’s so stressful having to take everything on and off at the airport, so we decided not to wear them today. Right, honey?”

He wrapped his hand around your waist, and you nodded. “I never wear jewelry when I’m on a plane. Too much hassle.”

She nodded, mouth slightly agape. “Oh, I see.”

Johny cleared his throat. “What do you work as?”

She grinned. “I’m a chemist.”

“I hated chemistry in high school,” Johnny groaned jokingly. Anne apparently thought this was hilarious, swatting his arm. He laughed again, but it was empty, awkward. You leaned your head against his shoulder in hopes that she'd get the message. 

“Well, Anne, it was lovely meeting you,” You declared, “But we’ve been awake since five in the morning travelling. We’re exhausted, we really should be getting inside.”

Anne sighed, eyes turning away from studying Johnny’s face to you. “Oh, go ahead. You two must be so tired.”

Johnny nodded, pursing his lips. “We’ll speak soon?”

She smiled. “There’s an HOA meeting on Friday night at another member's house. You should come and see what we’re all about, consider joining.”

"Swing by tomorrow!" You grinned, "You can tell us the details then."

"Of course, of course. Well, I'll leave you two to it. It was nice meeting you, Dana." She raked her eyes over Johnny one more time, "...Fox."

When she was out of earshot, Johnny pulled the suitcases out of the trunk and scrunched up his nose. "That was... awkward."

Your hand pulled up the extendable handle of the suitcase, looking back at her to see her close the door to her house, which was at the very end of the cul de sac. 

You looked back at him. "So, a chemist. And she's involved with the community, everyone probably knows who she is."

He shrugged before closing the trunk. "Let's keep an eye on her. She gives me the creeps."

The two of you made sure the car was locked before making your way towards the front door. He fiddled with the keys

"She might even have a motive," He said, as you stepped inside. "Ah, c'mon, aren't you gonna let me carry you over the threshold?"

"Not the time," You said, picking up your suitcase to carry it to the bedroom. "We were talking about a motive. Evidently, she likes looking at… married men. If it's her, she might be doing it out of jealousy."

"Exactly," He agreed, following you up the stairs. "Maybe there's something else at play—jealousy or something. how old were the other victims?" 

"Between 25 and 35. She didn't say how old she was, did she?" You rolled into the bedroom, sitting on the bed and immediately flopping down onto it. Johnny rolled past your room, looking for the separate bed the bureau had said would be there as well.

"Finally," You sighed with a smile. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you stifled a yawn. For a second, you considered falling asleep just like this, uncomfortable jeans be damned. 

"Y/N?" 

You cracked your eyes open, frowning at Johnny who was standing in the doorway. "What?" 

"There's only one bed."

You almost stopped breathing for a moment. "Huh?" 

He shuffled on his feet. "There's only one bed," He said, speaking slower.

"What do you mean there's only one bed?" You sat up.

Johnny sighed. "I mean there's only one bed." 

"But the bureau said—"

"Well, the bureau lied," He interrupted, "Because there's no other bed."

You  crossed your arms. "I could take the couch."

"That's supposed to get here tomorrow." 

"Oh," You frowned. What were you going to do? 

"I mean, I could sleep on the floor," You said, "So that way we don't have to sleep, you know…"

"Together?" He offered.

"In the same bed," You corrected, turning your face. It felt hot all of a sudden. 

"No, I couldn't do that to you." He set his suitcase next to yours, then sat next to you. "The bed seems big enough. I'm sure we'll be fine."

You were too tired to argue further. "Sure…" You didn't sound too convinced. 

"Great," He sighed, "I just gotta tell you. I snore a bit."

KANG-BAKER RESIDENCE, SAN CEFERINO, CALIFORNIA—08:43 hours, Thursday, July 7th, 1994

That night, surprisingly, you slept like a baby. You initially thought you'd overthink it all with Johnny lying right next to you but… it was comforting, knowing he was there. You hadn't slept next to anyone since you were 26.

Life as an FBI agent was demanding. Because of this, you'd given up on the idea of having a meaningful relationship ages ago. And due to the nature of your work, it was easy to throw yourself into it to drown out the desire to have someone to come home to. The fact that whenever you did get free time, if you spent too much of it alone… 

But now, lying awake in the morning, seeing Johnny's sleeping face curled up into his pillow… You remembered. 

He looked peaceful. Even at 33, like this he barely looked a day past 27. You could make out the details on his face, old acne scars and the occasional mole. The smile lines along his cheeks and the corners of his eyes… maybe in another lifetime, another universe, you could have gotten used to—

No. You shot up, heading towards the en suite to go to the bathroom. You were still sleepy, that was all. The time difference between Washington and California was having second effects. 

You pulled down your pants, blinking sleepily, and promptly had a heart attack when you sat down. Your knees barely missed your nose, your stomach dropped, and a shriek tumbled out of your lips before you could even register what was happening. 

Standing, now wide awake, you had half a mind to pull up your pants as Johnny tumbled into the bathroom, eyes wide in alarm.

"What happened?" He asked, voice raspy from disuse. You didn’t answer, but instead stared at the offending lifted toilet seat until he got the message. 

"Oh…" His face turned awkward, lips tilting from side to side. "I got up a few hours ago. I must have forgotten to put it back down, sorry." 

You didn't answer, yawning instead. He shrugged. "I've never… lived with another woman before, so…"

"Never?"

His eyes looked down. "...Never."

"Not even with that ex-girlfriend from Oxford you told me about?"

"Mary? No."

You held back an amused grin. "Johnny, when was the last time you even went on a date?" 

He pursed his lips. "I… am starving. Do you want me to go to the supermarket to pick something up for breakfast?"

You blinked, putting your hands on your hips. 

"...Breakfast sounds great."

Johnny promptly changed and left while you got into the shower. Once you were out, you brushed your teeth, did your general morning routine and waited for the car to roll back into the driveway, doing a quick background check on Anne in the meantime. 

No criminal record whatsoever, but that didn't automatically discard her from your list. Mostly because she was the only one on it, so far. 

Johnny rolled back into the driveway just before 9:20. You helped him take the bags into the kitchen, when he said, "Think fast!" and tossed you a small box.

"What's this?" You asked, opening the box. You sputtered at the sight: two simple gold bands. He looked at you like you were a moron.

"Wedding rings," He said, plucking one of the rings out from the box, "Hopefully so Anne lays off."

"You didn't have to go out and buy actual—"

"It's fake gold." He waved his hand dismissively, sitting down at the island and slathering an ungodly amount of cream cheese across a bagel. 

You settled on some coffee after hesitating to put on the ring. As you were finishing up, a knock at the door caught your attention. You looked at him, and he shrugged. "Moving van won't be here till 10:30."

So, you sighed, but still headed to the door. Johnny followed behind, second bagel in hand. When you swung the door open, you were met with Anne and a man you hadn't met yet. A wide Cheshire grin was plastered onto her face.

"Dana, hi!" She greeted. Her eyes landed on Johnny. "Good morning, Fox."

"Morning, Anne," You said with a nod, catching her attention again. You turned your eyes onto the man and held out your hand. "Hi, I'm Dana."

He shook your hand with a friendly smile. "My name's Scott Hernandez. I'm on the HOA board."

Johnny walked up to the door, putting a hand on your shoulder. "I'm Fox," He said, face speckled with crumbs and mouth full of food. You wanted to crawl into a hole.

"Hey, man," Scott said, eyeing Johnny, "Uh… Welcome to the neighborhood!"

"So," Anne asked, eyes raking over Johnny's chest, "How was the first night?"

Johnny swallowed his bagel before speaking. "It was lovely. We just snuggled up together and slept like little baby cats." He turned to you, eyes warm. "Isn't that right, honey bunch?"

Your neck snapped to look at him, holding back a look of disgust. "That's right…" You racked your brain for something sweet to call him and a moment later came up with, "...Poopy head."

Poopy head? Nice one, L/N.

Johnny’s smile faltered for a second, but neither Scott nor Anne seemed to notice. You flashed them both a bright grin. "So! Would you like to come in?"

Scott and Anne nodded. "That'd be great, thanks," He said. You led them into the dining room, where Johnny managed an awkward laugh. "Sorry it's such a mess, we just got up about an hour ago and I immediately went to the supermarket."

"Oh, don't worry, Fox," Scott hummed, sitting at the island, "Moving is so stressful. Especially with…"

Anne flashed him a dirty look. You raised an eyebrow at the interaction. "With what?" You asked, tilting your head as you feigned innocence. Anne sighed, shaking her head.

"Three women have been… murdered over the past few weeks." Scott looked down. "Police haven't been able to catch who's responsible."

"That's horrible," Johnny murmured, standing next to you. "Did you know them?"

"We know everyone because of our HOA responsibilities," Scott answered, "I wasn't that close to any of them, but they were all very nice women. It's awful, what happened to them. You knew Yolanda, didn't you, Anne?"

She nodded, eyes glassy. "Her son and mine used to play together. She was such a nice woman. Lovely family, too. It just breaks my heart." 

"I'm sorry for your loss," You told her. She offered a sad smile.

"But what, is it someone from the community or what?"

Anne shrugged, eyes full of concern. "The police don't really know, but it would make sense if they were from the community—"

"It couldn't possibly be someone living here," Scott huffed, "Everyone knows everyone, why would someone want to—"

"Scott is just in denial," Anne said, waving her hand. "Did you two really not know?"

"Not at all," Johnny replied, eyes wide with fake worry, "These past few weeks have been so hectic we barely had time to sit down. Right, honey?"

You groaned, partially putting up an act and partially in disgust at the name. "It's been a nightmare!" 

You made up some problems, like a crappy travel agency, yard sales, things going missing, stuff like that. Johnny occasionally chimed in, embellishing your stories. Occasionally, Anne or Scott would ask a question, and Johnny would answer with something he pulled out of his ass. 

"So that's why Fox isn't allowed coffee, anymore," You said a few minutes later, rolling your eyes. Scott was cackling, Anne giggling into her palm. Johnny glared at you, but there was no malice behind it. 

"But anyway, I'm guessing you two didn't come here to hear about how anxious I get with caffeine." Johnny turned to the pair. "What brings you to the... Kang-Baker residence?"

"Oh, we came to talk to you about joining the Homeowner's Association," Anne explained, "Not everyone in the neighborhood is a part of it, but it's very convenient to join." 

They laid down the basics, and as they talked, you realized just how much you appreciated living in an apartment rather than a house. Yes, it was a bit small at times, definitely not as idyllic, but 300 dollars as an initiation fee, and monthly payments of 150 dollars? You had half a mind to call the bureau and tell them that the real crime was the extortion from the Homeowner's Association. 

You didn't really see any advantages—probably because you didn't even own this house and wouldn't have to worry about selling it later. It just sounded like a nightmare. What did they mean you could only paint your doors pastel colors if you joined?

When they finally left, you looked at Johnny. "Maybe I'm not cut out for the American dream after all. That HOA stuff sounds even worse than the time we got attacked by the flesh eating virus."

He held back a laugh. "That bad, huh?"

You rolled your eyes. "No, this is much more irritating. The moving van will be here any second, come on, let's go."

127TH PRECINCT, SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA—14:29 hours, Thursday, July 7th, 1994

After unloading the furniture boxes (empty boxes with nothing really in them), you and Johnny settled on lunch—some crappy junk food—and drove all the way to the police station where Detective Son worked. 

"What did you think about that Scott guy?" You asked Johnny, who shrugged. 

"Seemed nice enough. We'd have to look into him too, since he's also involved in the community."

You nodded. "I'll run a background check once we get h—back to the house."

He glanced at you, but said nothing. "...What are you doing once this is over?"

You furrowed your eyebrows. "What, once we get back to DC?"

He nodded. "Well, yeah."

You stared ahead at the car in front of you. "Oh, well… I'm not sure. Probably finish writing that stupid report for Brooks and then curl up on my couch, watch some movies, drink some wine. I don't know."

He snickered. "What, and watch Pretty Woman for the 700th time?"

Smacking him in the shoulder lightly, you huffed. "Which is no better than watching Full Metal Jacket 700 times, and you know it, Johnny Suh."

He shrugged. "Well, if sex on a piano is what does it for you then who am I to judge?"

"Shut up." You rolled down the window, the heat too much to handle. 

When you finally got to see Detective Son again, she handed you the cassette and made her way towards the door. When she spoke, she looked only at you. "I'm actually headed out to check out another call we got just now," She explained, "But feel free to use the VCR in my office to look it all over."

She left, not even looking Johnny in the eye. You turned to Johnny, who was wide-eyed. 

"And you said she likes me."

In her office, you went over several days' worth of sped up hours of footage of six different camera angles. By the third hour of watching sped up, grainy footage, Johnny huffed. "I don't think we'll get anything," He said, "Especially considering the killer didn't even need to break their way in—"

"Hold on, hold on." You shook your head, eyes zeroing in on a dark shape in one of the cameras. You walked up to the VCR machine and hit the rewind button.

"Watch camera six."

He narrowed his eyes, fixing his glasses as he watched the dark shape run out from the treeline and up the wall, then out of the camera's view—presumably inside the community. You rewinded one last time, pausing just as it leaped onto the wall.

"There."

"That's too big to be a cat," He murmured, standing to get a closer look at the grainy black and white still image, "Right?"

"Could be a big cat—bobcat or a lynx, maybe, but…"

"It's movements are too… jerky for it to be a cat."

You hesitated, before nodding. 

"Could this be the thing we're looking for?" Johnny asked, and you crossed your arms, giving the dark blob a skeptical look.

"Looks like we have some digging to do."

One more hour of poring over the footage, plus another hour of looking at the archives of the police department turned up nothing on big cats in the area. There'd been no calls to 911 to report big cats in the neighborhood, and looking over the tape again showed nothing else, not even the thing leaving.

Which made Johnny’s theory that it was still there weigh even more.

By 7:30PM or so, Detective Son had returned. "I brought coffee," She said, entering the small space, "Find anything?"

You shrugged. Johnny looked at her. "We saw a weird blob go inside. It never came out and we couldn't figure out what it was."

She frowned. "There haven't been any reports of wild animals there in years. Not since that huge military base opened up."

Johnny's eyebrows knit together. "Army base?"

She nodded. "Fort Talbot. It's about fifteen minutes west of San Ceferino. There aren't a lot of roads that lead to it, they're pretty private."

You locked eyes with Johnny, who was probably thinking the same thing as you. Military base? That was new.

 “I don’t suppose you could take us to see it?”

She shrugged, raising her eyebrows. “I mean, we could try, but there’s a fence around the perimeter about a mile or two away from the actual base. They’re not gonna let you in.”

“No, we’re not military,” You sighed. “But thank you for telling us about that.”

SAN CEFERINO, CALIFORNIA—20:44 hours, Thursday, February 12th, 1993

When the car rolled into the driveway, the two of you had found that Anne was at your front door. You shot each other a quizzical look when she turned at the sight of your headlights. “What’s the cougar doing here?” He sighed, and you elbowed him.

“Hush. Be nice.”

She reached the car once you’d both stepped out. “Oh, I was wondering where you two were! I wanted to invite you over to have dinner. The spinach quiche I made was a bit too big for just me!”

At the mention of the meal, your stomach panged in hunger. All you’d had since you left the house was that coffee Wendy had given you. Plus…

Johnny seemed to read your mind. “We’re starving. Quiche sounds great, thanks so much, Anne.”

She beamed at his praise. “Oh, come on! Wouldn’t want it to get cold.”

Anne took the both of you into her house, leading you to the dinner table where she’d already set up spots for the both of you. “It’s not too much, is it? I’m sorry if I’m being overbearing. I really do want you to ease into the neighborhood, and plus, living in this big old empty house gets… lonely.”

As you sat down, you frowned in sympathy. You watched as she began to slice the quiche for you both. “Don’t worry, Anne. I understand where you’re coming from. It’s so lonely in my—or, it was so lonely in my apartment before Fox and I met. Sure, you can distract yourself during the day with all of the stuff you have to do, but at the end of the day you come home to… nothing.”

She handed Johnny a plate, and he took it. “There you go, Fox.”

He smiled, handing the plate to you. “Thank you.”

Her eyes followed his hand, and blinked when she spotted the ring on his hand. “Oh, I see you have your rings now.”

Johnny’s smile grew into a grin, as he held out his hand, flashing the band around his ring finger. You did the same. “No more pesky metal detectors,” He declared, “So why not?”

Anne nodded, eyes lowered. She handed him another plate, then served herself. And then, finally, you all started eating. It occurred to you as you took your first bite that if she was she easily could have laced the food with whatever was in those women’s systems when they died. But that would be too different from the killer’s modus operandi. They only went for women and they killed them in their home. Autopsies didn’t find anything recent in their stomachs at the time of death, so you concluded to take a bite. 

Besides, it smelled good. If you were going to die, then it would be nice to die by the hands of some good quiche.

“So,” You began, “You said your kids were off at college?” 

She nodded, digging around her food with a fork. “My oldest is in grad school at USC. He’s currently in South America doing research on bats, or something, I really can’t remember. My second is off backpacking for the summer, she’s graduating from UCLA next year, and my youngest left for college two years ago. He managed to get a full scholarship to Duke, can you believe it?”

You smiled, nodding. “Wow, that’s impressive.” 

She sounded proud, but there was a sadness behind her gaze. “It’s hard, it really is. Especially trying not to worry. They rarely call and only come home during the holidays. Drives me up the wall not knowing what my kids are up to!”

Johnny laughed. “My mom was the same when I went to college. My freshman year she called me once every day. My roommates always made fun of me for it.”

She chuckled. “Oh, that’s how all moms are,” She turned to you, “I imagine it’ll be the same when you two have kids.”

You almost choked on the food in your mouth at her words. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Johnny go white. Somehow, you managed to hold it back, hitting your chest lightly as the food made its way down. “Oh, well… it’s a bit early for that, I think.”

“We only got married six months ago…” Johnny murmured awkwardly. 

“Oh, I totally get it,” She said, “But, y´know, accidents happen. Especially when you’re still in the honeymoon phase after the wedding. I had my first less than a year after we were married, we weren’t even trying!”

You chewed on your lip. “Well, if something happens…” You met eyes with Johnny, whose gaze was unreadable, “Something happens.”

Not looking away, Johnny licked his lips subtly, before picking up a napkin. Anne didn’t notice, surprisingly, and seemed satisfied with your answer.

You ate a little bit more, when Anne asked, “So, tell me, how did you two meet?”

Remembering the file, Johnny perked up. “We met at a party in college. I was in my junior year, I think? Right, honey?”

You shook your head. “Your senior year,” You corrected, “Because I was in my sophomore year. I remember it like it was yesterday. He came up to me and was wearing this horrible button up shirt—”

“You ended up stealing it from me!” He joked, and you held up your index finger.

 “I use it to sleep. I wouldn’t be caught dead wearing that in public. Much less to attract a mate.”

Anne cackled, and the two of you laughed too. Again, you managed to make up a story: he was drunk and accidentally spilled some punch on your pants. He’d tried to help you by washing it in the bathroom but only made it worse.

“When I got back to my dorm, it was around three in the morning, my leg was sticky and I was miserable, but we ran into each other a few days later and he was very apologetic about the whole thing.”

“I was mortified,” He said, “I mean, here’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen in my life and I managed to screw it up by ruining her pants. I was so sure I’d screwed up.”

Anne raised her eyebrows. “So, you knew from the start that you liked her?”

Johnny’s eyes landed on you again, turning wistful. He leaned over and grabbed your free hand. “The moment I first laid my eyes on her, I knew. She was the one.”

You tried to smile, but suddenly your chest felt like it was caving in on yourself. You let your hand rest in his for a moment, before pulling away. “Oh, Fox. Don’t get all sentimental on me now.”

Clearing your throat, you didn’t miss the way Johnny’s eyes fell slightly. “If you’ll excuse me, where’s your bathroom?”

She pointed up. “Upstairs to the right.”

This was your chance to get some dirt on her, and put some space between you and Johnny. As you walked away, you touched a hand to your cheek and it came away burning. 

“Get it together,” You muttered to yourself.

The quick search yielded nothing. She had nothing in her drawers, all of the papers on her desk were related to her work at a hair care company. You always could have missed something though. You couldn’t take more than a few minutes, you certainly couldn’t risk her coming up to check on you and finding you sifting through her work documents.

Before you came down, you did your best to leave everything as you found it before heading back downstairs. 

When you sat back down at the table, things were a bit more tense. You sensed it immediately. “Everything alright?”

“...Yeah,” Johnny mumbled. 

“Fox and I were just talking about how… difficult marriage can be.”

You nodded, wondering if that was all that had happened. “Oh, it’s no walk in the park, that’s for sure.”

The rest of the dinner was not as lively. There were more awkward silences, more lulls in the conversation, less laughs. When you finally left, his elbow intertwined in yours, you looked at him. “What happened while I was gone?”

He shook his head as you both crossed the street. “I don’t like her,” He told you in a hushed voice, “She started talking about how it won’t be like this forever and it’s only fun now because we just got married or whatever.”

“What, was she trying to open something up between you and her?”

“I don’t know. She hasn’t exactly been subtle, so it wouldn’t surprise me if she was.”

The two of you marched up into your house, and while Johnny was showering you did a background check on Scott Hernandez. Nothing also. A perfectly ordinary citizen, no criminal record at all. 

Then, it was your turn to shower. As you did, you couldn’t help but think back to Anne’s words. The whole situation, feigning domesticity was proving to be bad for you: you couldn’t help but imagine a small child with his wide eyes and your nose, his lanky limbs and your hands. 

The amount of time you put into your work made you fully aware that it would make having children difficult. Truth be told, you hadn’t really put much thought into settling down. The right person had never been there.

But what if he had? What if he’d been by your side for the past three years?

He had to be putting on an act when he’d said it.

The moment I first laid my eyes on her, I knew. She was the one.

Thinking back to the moment you’d first met him, and he’d come across as slightly patronizing and dismissive of your conclusions. But thinking about when he’d first turned to look at you, that particular morning in 1992…

You turned off the shower. Alone time wasn’t doing you any good, either.

When you emerged from the shower, you sighed as your eyes landed on the toilet seat, which was lifted. You set it back down with a huff before getting dressed.

Once you stepped out of the bathroom in your pajamas, toweling your hair, your eyes fell to the pile of dirty clothes on the bed. “Please don’t put your sweaty clothes, where I have to sleep,” You told him, tossing the clothes into his face. He let out a soft groan, picking them up. 

“Oh, come on,” He grumbled, “They don’t even smell that bad.”

After he set them off somewhere (you didn’t see where as you were shutting your laptop off), he sat back down on the bed, leaving a space open for you. "So, what if we looked into Scott tomorrow?"

“That sounds like a good idea. Tomorrow night there’s that HOA thing we need to go to. We might be able to pick up some more stuff there.”

He nodded, and as you stood in front of the bed he waggled his eyebrows and patted the spot next to you. “Come on, Dana,” He murmured sarcastically, “We’re married now.”

You didn’t smile. He took that as a sign to continue. 

“Plus, if something happens, something happens.”

You grabbed a pillow and flung it into his face. “You’re the worst,” You grumbled. He laughed, but it was muffled from the pillow.

Slowly but surely, you realized with the sound of his laughter, this feeling was soon going to become something you couldn’t ignore.

HERNANDEZ RESIDENCE, SAN CEFERINO, CALIFORNIA—09:02 hours, Friday, July 13th, 1994

When the door opened, Scott Hernandez had a welcoming smile on his face. “Dana,” He said, “Good morning. Did you need anything?”

“Oh, I just wanted to ask if there was an official guidebook or anything for the HOA? Fox and I are still considering joining, but we’d need to go over everything.” You scratched at the cardigan you were wearing. Why did the bureau have to give you something so thick and scratchy when they knew you were coming to California in the middle of July?

“Come in! I’m sure I have a rulebook. Plus, if you have any other questions you could always just come over.”

He led you up the stairs. “I keep all of my stuff in the office,” He explained, “That way my kids don’t mess it all up.”

You offered a soft laugh. “Oh, you have kids?”

“Yep.” His voice was warm. “Two kids, a nine year old and a six year old. They’re not here right now, though. My wife took them up to Washington to see their grandparents.”

“Ah, that’s sweet.” As he led you into the office, your eyes studied the room. A picture frame behind him of a professional family portrait, a houseplant in the corner a big clunky computer on top of the desk, and a cabinet pushed to the side of the room.

Your eyes fell onto the things placed on top of the cabinet, a stapler and some other office supplies. But when your eyes caught a different type of metal that wasn’t the standard gray color, you focused on it. A small medallion, decorated with a ribbon. When you recognized the logo, your eyes widened slightly.

“You’re military?” 

His eyes turned to you, eyebrows raised. Then he looked to the side. “Oh… no. My brother was. He passed away in the Gulf War.”

You looked down, but something about his tone didn’t sound quite authentic. “I’m sorry for your loss,” You answered anyway. 

The silence hung overhead for a few moments, before he pulled out a small booklet. “Here’s a copy of the rulebook.” He held it up, waving it back and forth, “This has pretty much everything.”

“Oh, really?” You straightened your posture, feigning a smile. When he handed it to you, your smile grew bigger as you looked down at the small book. “I’ll be sure to show Fox when he gets home. I really appreciate it, Scott.”

He waved his hand. “Don’t mention it. If you need anything else, just come on over. I work from home, so I’m here pretty much all day.”

Scott studied your face, and a second later you looked away. “So, I should get going,” You murmured. “I’ll see you tonight? I don’t think nor you nor Anne said where it would be.”

He scratched the back of his head. “Here, actually! Tonight, at 7.” 

“Great,” You answered, “I’ll see you tonight.”

When you got back to the house, you walked to the office, where Johnny was waiting. “Hernandez has military links.”

His head shot up. “He does?” 

“There was a military medallion on his cabinet in his office. He looked like he was gonna piss himself when I asked about it.”

“And what did he say?”

“Said his brother was a Gulf War veteran. I didn’t believe him for a second.”

“So could he be our guy?”

You took a deep breath. “Honestly? I don’t know. I could try to look through his office tonight at the HOA thing.”

“You?” He shook his head vehemently. “You fit his profile. All of his victims were around your age. You’re not going somewhere you could be alone with him.”

You rolled your eyes. “Then what?” 

He looked at you as if you were dumb. “I’ll go.”

“But—”

“No.” His gaze turned stern, before walking all the way up to you. He put his hands up on your shoulders. “Y/N, he could kill you.”

“Has that ever stopped me before?” You asked, tilting your head. “Johnny, it’s in the job description to deal with people who could kill me. What’s so different now?”

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out. His eyes were wide, urgent, and his face was inches away. You shook your head, trying to prompt him to speak. “What?” 

Johnny pursed his lips, studying your face. And then, finally he shook his head. “Nothing.” 

He stepped away, and left the office, leaving you speechless. You leaned against the desk thinking about what just happened.

For the rest of the day, he was relatively distant. During lunch—you went out to buy some sandwiches—and he barely said thank you, before you ate in tense silence. You could only wait until 7 o’clock rolled around. In the meantime, you placed a call to Detective Son, telling her to look into Scott Hernandez and his family. You typed up the rest of your preliminary report, and then all you could do was wait. 

When five thirty rolled around, you started to get ready. You took only about five minutes, before stepping out, fully dressed. When you stepped out of the bathroom, Johnny had his back turned to you. It was almost as if he hadn’t noticed you were right behind him, because he was humming softly to himself, tapping his foot to a non audible melody. You could hear him humming it though, and after a few seconds of listening. you were able to recognize the song.

He froze when he heard your giggling. “What?” He asked, turning his head.

“Is… is that Bidi Bidi Bom Bom?” You asked, leaning against the wall. He straightened his posture before shuffling on his feet. 

“...No.” 

You raised your eyebrows. “Sure, it isn’t.”

He raised his eyebrow, but it wasn’t as serious as he had been before. And when you spoke again, his mouth grew into a crooked smile. 

“You like Selena,” You sing-songed. 

“Alright, enough. We’ve got a job to do.” He was biting back a laugh. You knew him too much to believe the opposite. 

When the two of you finally walked the few houses towards Scott’s house, he held out his arm for you to hold onto. Taking a deep breath, your hand hesitated before it grabbed onto him. Approaching the house, you could tell that it was alive with a lot of people on the inside. You wouldn’t necessarily say it was overflowing, but you could tell it was definitely close to filling up. 

“Let’s go?” He asked, and you nodded. He led you to the front door, where he rang the doorbell before the two of you waited. 

A minute or so later, Scott opened the door with a grin. 

“Hey, you two! You’re just in time.”

You put on your best smiles. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Johnny sighed. You didn’t miss the tense undertone in his words.

The two of you made your way into the room. Across the room you heard someone call for you both. You held back a groan. You really didn’t need this right now. 

“Hey, over here!” Anne called, beckoning you over. Johnny heaved the sigh of a man ready to end it all, and then you both made your way to her and her group. All of them seemed to be the same age as her. 

“Ladies, these are our new neighbors I was telling you about.” She pointed at the both of you .”This is Dana Baker, and this is Fox… the architect.”

Oh boy. 

And the talking began. You and Johnny having to rehash the same details over and over again. It felt like having to navigate a minefield. You had to recall all of the lies you’d told Anne and Scott, this time in front of an audience of women very clearly ogling the man who they fully believed was your husband. 

You made idle chit-chat after that, but eventually, about twenty minutes had passed until they sat everyone down. The living room was full of grown ups, including a few young children. The thought of everyone being in such close proximity to someone, something that could hurt them all the way it had hurt those other women.

It was easy to tune them all out. It was then that you realized that suburban life would never really be for you. This was all so dull and monotone. You were sure that if you had decided to actually go into the medical field and settled down… you would probably lose your mind. 

They went over some things you didn’t pay attention to: lawns and whatnot. It was so tiring you had to stifle a yawn on more than one occasion. Anne was going on about some infraction that didn’t even sound that bad to you, when it occurred to you to slip away, Johnny be damned. 

You patted Scott on the shoulder as Anne went on. “Where’s the bathroom?”

He nodded back once, “Upstairs. Green door. We’re almost done, though, are you sure you can’t wait a little longer?”

“I had the genius idea to drink two whole bottles of water before we left,” You murmured so as to not make too much of a scene, “I really don’t think I can.”

He sighed, before nodding. “Go ahead.”

Gotcha. You slipped up, sparing Johnny a glance. He was glaring at you. If looks could kill, you didn’t even want to know where you’d end up going. You made your way up the stairs, remembering the way to the office from this morning. You slipped into the office, making your way to the cabinet. The medallion was gone, which made you wonder why he had done so. 

As you shuffled through the drawers of the cabinet and came up with nothing, you had to remind yourself to keep count of how long you’d been up here. You moved on to the desk, shuffling through the papers on the desk and then the ones on the drawer. In the first drawer, you found an ID: Alma Hernandez, Lazarus Programming.

In the second drawer, nothing. 

In the third and bottom drawer, you found something: a pair of dogtags. Neither of them said Hernandez. Instead, they read Simon Walsh. 

Simon Walsh? That was new. You stashed them back into the drawer, suddenly remembering how long you’d been up here. Probably a bit over five minutes. As you made your way back down to the living room, you ran into Johnny. 

“Hey,” He said, “I was just coming to look for you.”

He looked disappointed, bordering on anger. In the small space, you could feel his proximity. You couldn’t help but shake your head.

“I had to take the chance. I wasn’t sure if there would be a chance after this.”

He sighed. “I can’t believe you. Come on, they’re serving pizza.”

You laughed, letting him grab your hand as he led you back into the living room, where you two ate a few slices of pizza. Enough to feel satisfied, but not enough to feel too full. In theory, if you had to make a detainment or worse, have a confrontation then it’d be a bad idea to have stomach cramps. 

You two kept to yourselves, occasionally speaking to other couples who introduced themselves to you. Once you’d finished gorging yourselves on the food, he kept his hand around your waist the entire time. It was a gentle touch, but comforting. You couldn’t help but feel tense.

“After we get home, I’ll tell you all the details I saw.” You looked up to see his face, watching you tentatively. 

“Alright,” He murmured, leaning closer to your face, “But I wanna talk about something together first.”

Raising an eyebrow, you leaned away from him. “What, are you okay?”

Johnny nodded, smile reassuringly. “Yeah. I just realized something earlier today.” 

KANG-BAKER RESIDENCE, SAN CEFERINO, CALIFORNIA—21:17 hours, Friday, July 13th, 1994

When the two of you left, Anne had bid you both goodbye. She’d said Scott had gone to bed with a headache, which made you feel a bit uneasy. The entire way home, Johnny kept himself relatively close. The entire way home, he was silent. It wasn’t until the both of you were inside of the house that he leaned against the front door. As he led you to the couch )which had finally arrived), you tried to remember all of the details you’d seen as you looked through Scott’s office.

When he sat you down, you placed both hands in your lap. He scratched at his shoulder, before meeting your eyes.

“Simon Walsh.”

“I think I’m in love with you.”

Your eyes widened at the same time his had. “What?” You asked, shaking your head. You were suddenly aware of everything going on. You were in an ongoing murder investigation. It was quite possibly linked to a very secretive military base. Three women had been murdered. A fourth would be soon if you didn’t hurry.

“Johnny, I don’t think…”

“No, please. Just a few minutes, okay? I’ve been dealing with this for years. I need to get this out of my system and then we can talk about this back in DC. Please, Y/N.”

Your gut felt heavy at the same time your heart felt incredibly light. It was by far one of the strangest sensations you’d ever felt. Letting out a shaky breath, you nodded. 

“Alright, John. Five minutes. Then we talk about what I found.”

He nodded with a small smile. Gently, Johnny grabbed your hands, rubbing the knuckles with his thumbs. He was silent for a while, tilting his head back and forth as he tried to figure out what to say. 

“What I said last night at Anne’s. I meant it. That first time I saw you, I… I knew. I knew we didn’t get along initially, but I just had this feeling in my chest. You were so smart, and eventually we realized how much we clicked…”

He looked up, leaning closer. You swallowed softly as his eyes met yours again. He managed a soft chuckle. “Y/N, I tried to hold it away. But it got stronger every single day. You understand me. Even though we push back against each other, you don’t think I’m crazy. You take them into consideration and don’t brush them off. I really appreciate that. I look at you and… I’m home.”

Looking to the side, you sighed. “Johnny, I really don’t think this is appropriate. Especially not right now—”

"Y/N, I know what your dream on the plane was about."

You inhaled sharply, alarmed gaze meeting his own. His eyes had turned soft, warm. You knew you had to push him away. The name Simon Walsh was on loop in your head, but you couldn’t find it in you to push him away.

“What?”

“I heard you moan my name,” He sighed, “Trust me, Y/N, I know what I heard.”

He leaned even closer, cupping your face. You could feel his breath puffing softly onto your skin. His eyes were knowing as his voice dropped to a whisper. 

“You want me too, don’t you?”

When his lips met yours, you couldn’t find it in you to pull away. He pulled you closer, and your arms found their way to wrap themselves around your neck. His lips were soft, but demanding. You could tell he’d been waiting for this a long, long time. 

You don’t know when he laid you down onto the couch, but honestly… you didn’t really mind. Johnny was warm, comfortable. And yes, July in California was hot, humid, but… up until Johnny put his hands on you, you’d never realized how cold you’d been, even before your arrival here.

He deepened the kiss, hands sliding down to your waist. They toyed with the hem of your blouse, humming against your lips. You gasped against him, hands sliding into his gelled hair.

Your eyes snapped open. Johnny never used this much gel in his hair.

Two things happened in the next two seconds. You pushed Johnny off. Johnny would never prioritize his feelings like this over a case. You hadn’t seen Scott as you left. All of this pretending, playing house had gotten to you. You were in real danger now.

The other thing that happened? Johnny burst through the door, wearing clothes he hadn’t been wearing when you first left. He was panting heavily. There was a bruise on his cheek and his wrists were red.

You backed away from Not Johnny, who turned to you, gaze now furious. A wave of nausea passed over you, breathing heavily. Whatever Not Johnny had in his system, he had passed onto you with his spit, and you could feel it settling into your system. You looked up at Johnny, before pulling out your gun. Taking a deep breath, you looked at your work partner, closest confidante, love of your life.

“I had a feeling,” You mumbled, realizing how the sinking feeling in your stomach was actually dread.

Stumbling, you heard Not Johnny let out a ghastly screech. You fired your gun at him before passing out. 

SAN FRANCISCO METROPOLITAN, SAN FRANCISCO, CALIFORNIA—10:39 hours, Saturday, July 14th, 1994

The room smelled sterile. You knew this smell. You’d lived it for several years before in medical school rotations. This had to be a hospital, you realized. Slowly, you let your eyes open. You let out a soft groan at the discomfort of having been stuck in one position for so long.

“You awake?” A deep, familiar voice asked. Your vision was blurry, but you could still recognize it was Johnny. His eyes were rimmed red from exhaustion, but he looked relieved. 

“No. I died, actually.” Your voice was raspy. Johnny scoffed, shaking his head.

“You’re impossible,” He mumbled, “I’m so glad you’re safe.”

“What even happened after I passed out?”

Johnny took a second to gather his thoughts before speaking. “You hit him in the face. It wasn’t pretty. He freaked out a bit, and then he took off. I couldn't catch him. Called Son, she came in with the precinct and they looked through Hernandez's house."

His gaze turned somber as you sat up with a soft huff. Your muscles were stiff.

"They found the real Scott Hernandez, his two kids and his wife, in their basement. Autopsies are being performed today, but it looks like they've been dead a few weeks."

Your eyes shut. Two kids, a man, and another woman. Seven victims total.

"And that thing is still out there," You mumbled, "If only I hadn't been so stupid—"

Johnny put his hand on yours. "Don't say that. Even if you hadn't gotten knocked out, he would still be way too much for just the two of us to handle. Y/N, you shot him in the face and it barely stopped him. He wasn't human anymore."

You shook your head, burying your head in your hands. "Still… I know you, Johnny. I should have seen the signs, but he was so—somehow he knew everything—"

"It's something to do with touch," He said with a nod, "He knocked me to the ground and locked me in a closet before he found you. I was a bit out of it, but I remember he touched my wrist for a few seconds and then he turned into me. My head still hurts, too. Maybe he can also copy some memories from the people he touches long enough."

When you didn't answer, he grabbed your face. He looked desperate. "Y/N, you're only human. I would have fallen for it too."

"I fell for it because he told me exactly what I wanted to hear," You whispered, feeling tears spring to your eyes, seemingly out of nowhere, "He played me like a fucking fiddle and I fell for it."

His thumb brushed away a tear. "Don't think about the what-ifs, Y/N. It's already happened, and now we need to focus on what's gonna happen next. We need to find a way into Fort Talbot. Somehow. Turn your report into the bureau and we can figure it out from there. There’s something going on there. Human experimentation on soldiers, or something."

"We're never gonna get clearance to search a military base, Johnny. It's impossible."

He shook his head. "Y/N, if you were able to convince Brooks to let me, Spooky Suh, FBI's most unwanted? keep running around hunting ghosts and aliens and Bigfoot all over the country, you can figure out a way to get access in there. I know you can."

You were shaking now. "We won't be safe if we do. You think the military won't retaliate? We'd be dead, Johnny," Your words were garbled and your voice wouldn't stop cracking, "There has to be another way."

He shook you gently, shaking his head. "Dammit, Y/N, I can't do this without you."

"They placed me with you for a reason, Johnny," You snapped, "To debunk your work, to reign you in and shut you down—"

"But you saved me," He insisted, "You did exactly the opposite. And as a result we kept working together, and you kept me honest. You… you've made me a whole person."

He rubbed his face with his hand, pushing a strand of dark hair out of his eye. "Y/N, as frustrating as it's been sometimes working with you, your stupud science and rationalism have saved me a thousand times over. I owe you everything. Y/N, you owe me nothing."

His forehead brushed yours, and his eyes fluttered shut. "I can't do this without you," He murmured. And despite the fact that you knew that this was your Johnny, you shook your head. The deja vu was making your head spin. 

"Tell me something the real Johnny would know," You whispered, putting a hand on your chest.

He thought for a second, before sighing. "I had three moments when I realized I was in love with you. When you first walked into my office that morning, I had a feeling," He said, voice full of conviction, "It grew into something concrete when you told me my glasses were crooked. And the moment I knew—I mean, I already knew from that first moment but this was when it truly hit me—was when you told me you'd kept that stupid fucking nasal implant in your sports bra so that you wouldn't lose it."

He laughed warmly, obviously thinking back to the moment. "No one else has ever believed me the way you do. And I doubt anyone else ever will. You're my one in…" He looked to the side, trying to remember the number, "Five billion."

Your hand came up to caress his face. He seemed to melt against your touch. 

This time, when your lips met, everything felt right, despite the feeling that the world was crumbling around you. His hands squeezed your face gently, as if you were about to disappear. When your hands slid into his hair, it felt slightly sweaty still, but it wasn't tacky with gel. 

This was your Johnny. You knew it with your entire being.

Yes, Johnny was sarcastic, stubborn, eccentric and had low impulse control. But he was also highly intelligent, empathetic, hilarious and yes, you could now admit that he was the most beautiful human you'd ever seen in your 30 years on this planet. 

If it had to be him and you against the world, so be it. The truth was out there. You and Johnny would just have to be the ones chasing it.

taglist: @doderyscoffee​ @always-wishing-for-rain​