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banqdanfnfic · 3 years

Text

which, as they kiss, consume | jjk

you just wanted to get a tattoo from your boyfriend

pairing: tattoo artist!jk x reader

genre: established relationships au, tattoo artist au, smut

word count: 4k

warnings: unprotected sex, biting, making out, grinding, licking, nipple play, jk has a lip ring, oral (f receiving), fingering, shy jk and oc, sexual tension, slight choking, slight aftercare

♫ : Streets by Doja Cat, Candy by Doja Cat

♡ Aesthetics: Playlist | Moodboard

He visibly chokes on his glass of beer as he almost snaps his neck to meet your gaze. He could say that you were awfully drunk and hence the sudden confession out of the blue, but behind your heavy lidded eyes, Jungkook could sense that you were serious.

“You what?”, he gulps abruptly, moving closer to your face, doe eyes pleading to repeat yourself.

“Yes Kook. I want that tattoo on my breasts. I’ve decided”.

It’s not that Jungkook didn’t have experience in his career with inking on different parts of a human body. He just had never given a tattoo to someone who is romantically associated with him and the thought of seeing you half naked made him chuck down the rest of his drink in one go.

The most physical he had ever gotten with you was a kiss shared occasionally since it’s only been over two weeks you had started dating. Okay maybe you made out once in his car but that’s it. It never got to the point of shedding clothes or anything intense.

“Are you sure?”

You giggle at the sudden hoarseness in his voice and nod positive. Ironic how his aura never matched his personality. His inked skin, athletic body proportions covered in black monochrome bad boy outfits gave out default energy that he is a local heartthrob with multiple chicks wrapped around his finger each night and a heavy demeanor to carry in his smirk.

You were one of those believers until Jungkook asked you out in the most hopeless romantic way possible after constantly visiting the café you work in, a few shops besides his parlor. He was a gentleman with respectful boundaries, warm hands to hold yours and sweet sensual kisses though you are pretty sure he probably has a good game.

For any outsider it looked like those cliché bad boy and shy girl love stories, but for real both of you were a good percentage of introverts.

Jungkook runs his tongue around his lip ring while he is stressfully ruffling his dark locks into a mess. He is trying to explain his reasons to postpone your decision considering how shy he got at this point. But then that’s exactly why you were requesting him with soft eyes, it would be so uncomfortable to be shirtless in front of anybody else. Or maybe it’s your way of saying the relationship is open for higher levels of physical affection.

After debating around in vain, he finally hums and clears one of his slots for his beloved client.

Friday approaches way quicker than you assumed and now your heart is beating in your throat. Right after you are done cleaning the tables, you have to make it to Jungkook’s parlor for your appointment.

Running on three hours of sleep, black under eyes even after a decent amount of makeup, you groan as you check yourself out in the mirror. You opted for a simple shirt and skirt (also known as the outfit you bought for occasions with Jungkook), light beach waves resting on your shoulders. Hoping that a few cups of coffee will save you, you stride across the street to stop before the infamous parlor he worked in. Hopefully the full body shave and chocolate body butter has kept its excellence on your skin below the clothing.

The door chimes as it opens with a dragged creak on the musky wooden flooring. It felt like an otherworld where air smelled like men’s perfume and faint tint of cigarettes. In other words, intoxicating.

You ask the first person you meet at the reception, one of Jungkook’s companions at the shop and he assists you to his cabin located at a comfortably remote location.

His space is hidden with a simple black curtain. You are met with Jungkook’s back facing you, working determinately on a client’s arm and cares to spare a glance only when the guy with you is informing him about your presence.

“This will be over in a few”, he grins to your face and goes back to focusing his coil on the skin of a woman in her late twenties laying down his chair. The vibration from his inking machine fills in the silence and you excuse yourself to sit on a small black couch beside them.

This was the first time watching him at work and now you can understand why people rumored so much about his attitude because damn it is intimidating.

Brows knit together and inked muscles flex as he drags the needles around for finishing touches. Meanwhile you can pretty much smell the drool from the woman who is shamelessly checking out your boyfriend. Though you are pretty sure Jungkook gets such glances more than he can count every day, you can’t help but feel jealous. Partly because of the childish possessiveness and partly because you want to be the reason behind his dark eyes and intricate concentration, in profession or not.

To stop from mentally throwing daggers on the client’s way, you grab a random fashion magazine from the side table and flip through pages, though other four senses are inclined on your man. With a close attention to his low sigh you conclude that he is done.

The customer with now a fresh tattoo on her arm is discussing random useless topics to get him to talk, a very vain job realizing how Jungkook doesn’t bat a friendly lash at anybody, especially to those who hit on him. To be honest a large part of the ink business was linked with the obsession to attractive people who worked here, even if it meant trading an area of your skin. You grip the edges of the magazine a bit hard, not able to contain the sanity particularly at the high pitch voice she mumbles in before finally leaving his cabin.

A little excited and a lot nervous, you stand up as Jungkook bids goodbye to the third person.

He is quick to notice your discomfort, though not sure if it was the woman or the thought of finally getting the tattoo, he knew you were nervous and surviving in several cups of espresso by the dark circles slowly showing through the faded layers of your concealer. But nothing pulls down the opinion he has about you, beautiful and simple, no dramatics attached.

“Hey are you okay?”

You nod as soon as you sit down on the black tattoo chair, shifting a little to find a comfortable position. He is taking out a box full of equipment and fine needles, already making you break a sweat at the side of your forehead.

But more than that, it’s the way he is sharp and professional that catches your attention more.

You have never seen Jungkook this serious before. The choice of his vetiver perfume digging through your nostrils was driving you insane. If he doesn’t smile soon, you are going to melt into a puddle at his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”, he smirks this time, a newfound reason for your worsening gut health.

It’s mostly going in cycles at this point. Every bit of his skilled motion causes a vigorous hormonal reaction which initiates his next set of effortless teasing.

“I’m a little nervous”, you say, fiddling with your freshly painted nude nails.

“Me too”

It’s something you least expect to come out of his mouth observing how confident he looks right now. He basically has you cornered with his gaze. But whenever he had been truthful about his emotions it felt like a hug.

“I can take off my shirt too, so that we are even. Is that okay?”

He said it so softly like he is handling a child and the duality of the situation had your mind fogged and limbs frozen for a few minutes.

“Yeah it’s okay” It’s far beyond than okay. It’s great actually.

Jeon Jungkook is ripped, a Greek God sculptured masterpiece covered in self designed artwork you are more than happy to wake up to every morning. He hears you gulp at the feast before your eyes while he discards his black t-shirt to a nearby chair.

Now you don’t know if this whole thing is supposed to warm your heart or make you play several erotic fantasies like a movie before your eyes.

Both of you share a small smile while his long fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt and pulling it up over your head.

He almost wishes you don’t opt to wear a bra but he is met with lacy black, a-bit-over your-usual-budget fabric hugging the roundness of your breasts.

It seemed like you were way too competitive about today. Anything less than complete awe from Jungkook for you was straight disappointment, you don't want anything less.

Well it seems like it did from how blown his pupils were at this point. He peels his gaze off your chest with a sharp gulp to look at your eyes suddenly devoid of any fear and staring back at him with all ease. He is filled with an exapnse of warmth and he isn't sure why does spending just a little amount of time with you had such a grip on him. He can’t wait to propose the idea of getting a couple tattoo together soon and as far as you know how Jungkook is, he is very serious with his body art so apparently he does trust you a lot already.

“Where exactly are you trying to get it?”, his voice is a lot deeper suddenly as he waits for your fingers to guide to his canvas.

You softly trace the spot at the upper circumference of your right boob, “Here”.

You suck a breath through your nose as his own fingers are mimicking your gesture, lightly pulling down the lace to inspect the fitting of the design at hand.

These violent delights have violent ends

And in their triumph die, like fire and powder

Jungkook traces each word on your burning skin, now leaning dangerously close which was questioning your control to put your palms flat on his pecs. He doesn’t notice that though, his mind is busy creating his own fantasies about the women under him.

After two minutes and twenty four second long of inspection and mutual thirst, Jungkook is selecting a bunch of needles to set into the rotary machine. Five fine sharp like a painter's brush moves in and out at a set regularity as Jungkook tests it out.

The next of his actions had you flushed into a pool of crimson. He gently lifts up your resting torso with one hand while the other is unclasping the hook of your bra, making you half naked for the sake of the tattoo.

"I'm going to start", he says shyly.

You still have time to save yourself from the growing phobia for the object, but another unlogical part of your brain says it's a piece of cake considering you have a whole distracting full course meal in front of you.

It stings at first. Well, okay it hurts like hell but your face is devoid of any indication, except your right hand is gripping on the rim of the chair for dear life.

Jungkook on the other hand had never felt this much diversion of mind during his work. He knows that you are probably hurting very badly, especially for a first timer. He is biting into his lip ring, trying to get this over with for the well-being of your pain and his hormones.

After he had scribed one word into your dermis, you are no longer able to contain the ache so you give out a small squeak out of your glossed lips and the vibration of the machine at his hands stops as he looks at you.

"You want me to stop? ", he is relaxing his face as he cups yours with one hand. You don't want to answer that question, but the drumroll of the current situation is making your heart flutter and everything about the little burn on your chest is forgotten.

"No. It does hurt but I'll be fine I guess", you whisper. His breath is mixing with yours slowly as he is leaning more towards your face. If it isn't for a kiss then you are likely to be disappointed.

"It'll be over before you know it. I'll make it quick", and then he kisses you, a small act to get off the pressure of sexual tension between your bare upper bodies.

Before you think of any tongue in the act, he is breaking off the contact and returns to his position on your chest. He misses the pout that forms on your mouth but right now both of your heads are in cloud nine.

The pain starts again, only this time you are busy reliving how his lips felt in yours; soft, firm and controlled.

You gasp when you feel one of his hands cupping your right breast to further his design but it's lowkey an act empowered by lust which is straining behind the so called professional eyes.

You just sit there flustered out of your mind and then Jungkook is suddenly squeezing, full palm hiding your breasts like it's a protected treasure, but he isn't showing the slightest facial expression other than determined eyes and his lower lip caught between his teeth.

Fuck you can't take it anymore. Jungkook can feel your nipples harden against his hand and his brain isn't helping much to concentrate on the design. But by the grace of some positive karma left on his side, he makes it through the long text and when he is letting go of your chest and standing tall, your skin is popping out with redness on the places the text lays embedded.

He fishes out a mirror for you to look.

"It looks beautiful thank you Jungkook", you smile.

"Can I give you one more tattoo on your left one?", he asks while you are contemplating whether going through the pain is worth it, not to mention you really want to get back at a private space with Jungkook as soon as possible.

"It won't hurt I promise", and then he is kissing you a lot filthier than before; all tongue and teeth, while his hands are grazing on the skin of your waist, pressing a little firmer than before.

The coldness of his lip ring rivaled around your mouth, and you try sucking on it to which Jungkook responds with a growl and pushes his body adamantly against yours.

Skin to skin, you are lost in euphoria of everything happening and finally, you roam your eager hands around his body, to his pecs and the definition of abs.

As your fingers scraped against his scalp, Jungkook is biting eagerly down your jawline to your collarbone and continues his ministrations at a particular spot which is bringing out melodic moan variation from you.

He is going down your skin, licking on your left boob before he starts planting violet tattoos as he had promised. As if it couldn't get better, he is massaging the right breast, in a way to soothe pain.

He loses it when you stutter his name, but he is just a fucking tease when it comes to making love and doing anything in a public space is the last thing he wants to do. There isn't much room for all that he wants right now.

"Why did you choose this particular tattoo Y/n?", he rasps while he is planting small pecks on his artwork, and you reply when he is finally eye level with you

"I just felt like it's a good one", your breaths are uneven and mostly caught in your neck. He pecks your lips before speaking, "Those are lines from Romeo and Juliet".

He takes your hands to trace over a line of text among the many designs on his chest.

which, as they kiss, consume

"We pretty much have a couple tattoo now Y/n", his breath is matched with your pace and you are not very sure how to respond to this new knowledge.

"That's… hot"

You break into giggles along with him, he just can't stop dragging his lips around your skin, but he isn't able to word his feelings right now either.

"I have some aftercare healing ointment for the tattoo at my place, wanna come over?" Now that may be a little lame of an excuse to get his little friend out of his pants but you are too unfazed to analyse any of that.

His hands find place on your ass under the skirt as soon as the door to his apartment closes, and before you know it, you are in his bedroom, sitting on the soft mattress and tongue lost devouring each other.

While eagerly getting rid of every article of clothing, Jungkook notices that you don't have your bra on beneath the shirt, so it's probably back at the parlour, but none of you have the slightest care for it, might as well make an excuse with it later to fuck you in his cabin.

He is pushing you farther towards the headboard, him on top, grinding sensenslesy while your lips mould with his. Though he has his whole body pressed against you, you can't seem to feel his weight at the slightest, every one of his actions were just balanced and perfect.

As Jungkook goes down on you, his smile is evident against your skin, finally able to find out how every one of those scenarios in his head will come to look like. He lets out a satisfied hum being finally able to suck on your tits, your fingers finding place on his hair, twisting it out of stimulation.

His pelvis is flushed harshly against yours, grinding and rubbing against your pussy for as long as he is rejoicing the feeling of moving his tongue around both the nipples.

He stops rubbing after some point and you whimper at the loss but his fingers are soon to meet your core as a quick apology. All your later moans are muffled on his mouth once again.

Feeling the controlled movements of his fingers on your clit, you dig your nails down on his toned shoulders. It's becoming impossible to reciprocate his lewd movements of tongue on your lips at this point as the excitement between your thighs is growing every passing second.

Your mouth remains slightly parted as he removes his face to watch you squirm underneath, lips swollen, deep red and glossy from all the saliva.

He pecks at the shell of your ear before going down past your navel.

You haven't had much heads in the twenty years of your life, most of the guys being completely against the idea which made you feel insecure to bring up the topic in bed, but Jungkook does it like his life depends on it.

He growls at the sight of you dripping into his sheets and he seems to enjoy the idea of being the influence behind it. But none is going through your head at the moment, not the metal on his lips grazing against your folds, or the fact that Jungkook is grinning each time you cry his name, it feels unreal to feel something like this.

His mouth is wrapping against your entrance and he is balancing your lower body on his palms to help him reach the right depths inside you. While all you can muster up is the strength to grope the bedsheets in your fist and close your eyes at the pleasure.

Jungkook brings his head higher to give some attention to the throbbing clit, catching it between his teeth and triggering the bundle of nerves just the perfect dose to have your hips jolting up to his face.

He can't take it himself when you are now whining and chasing for your release, so he is slightly humping against the bed to get some friction.

He licks a slow stripe up till your abdomen and slowly raises to your face, already fucked out and dishevelled to keep up with his dominant orbs.

He swears he had never felt so much warmth and care for sex with any of his previous partners, in relationship or not, all he could think is how good can he treat the pleading eyes underneath him.

"Is there something you like that you want me to do?", he says, fingers grazing once again to your crotch to not deny you from his contact. Only this time he is exploring the tightness of your pretty cunt with two skillful fingers.

Is there? You are not sure. Or in other words you are too caught up at the sense of him fingering you. It's not like you had enough experience or people who cared enough to ask that question. It astounds you that never in this entire foreplay he asked for any favor for himself.

"I'm not sure…", you whisper and then maybe you have something on your mind " um I guess I would like to be choked" Okay this felt embarrassing.

He smiles before sliding his free hand from your lips to your neck, and applies slight force, careful to not hurt you in the slightest bit.

"Is that fine?"

"Yeah", you muffle through the decreasing course of air.

He pulls up your face by the throat to attach lips once more. He just can't seem to get enough of kissing you senseless. Then, the tip of his long ignored cock is teasing the length of your pussy twice before it's stretching you out to the brim.

Bodies flushed and hot, his pace is deep and slow, making sure to kiss the cervix every time he is inside.

He watches as your eyes close shut and flutters around whenever he is grazing against your sweet spot. Both of your ears lost and eager for the moans looming out of each other, his more like what he sounds at the gym. Nice observation Y/n.

In this span of sexual energy you shared, you can make some obvious conclusions. Sex with him was surreal, both in terms of domination and the care he had. Rocking against him and keeping up with his hips was attainable— Compared to the intense eye contact he tries to hold, or the way he cups the side of your face and rubs the pad of his thumb on your cheeks while he kisses you during sinking back in, or the way his eyes glow at the beauty of your body open for him. It makes you feel special and it's difficult to respond to these gestures when you never felt this way before.

Jungkook could tell that from your face, but he hopes he lasts with you enough to help you know the worth you hold. You couldn't think too much about anything when you are busy squeezing around his length and coming twice in the first ten minutes.

By the third orgasm Jungkook is nearing his own and he pulls out to pump a few times before coming on your stomach.

"Was it okay?", his voice is all over the place, still balancing his body on his arms while you are amazed by his strength.

"It was amazing Jungkook", you smile. You have known a lot about Jungkook over the few dates you spent with him. That he likes literature, classics and philosophy, designs tattoos as a subconscious thing, that his game is A-1, and he likes working out almost three hours a day. Good for you. But it wasn't until now you know him to be gentle, like he is afraid to crush you under a feather touch. You don't know him as someone who is staring deep into your face after a good fuck, speaks nothing, smiles widely, and plants a peck on your forehead before getting off the bed.

He does the honors of cleaning both of your bodies with a towel, it's not like you have any strength left in you anyway. And then pulls out an ointment from the bedside table and plops next to your body.

"There. You need this to protect the tattoo", he takes off the nozzle and applies a required amount against the words on your chest and massages against them.

"Now go to sleep Juliet", he mocks, pulling up the sheets over you both "good night".

You snuggle against his hard chest, kissing his pecs before resting on it, "Good night Romeo".

thank you so much for reading!! please leave a feedback!!

★ taglist: @pjmochii (dm, ask or comment to enter the tl!)

★ credits: @/rainbeary on spotify : songs that'll make you feel everything's in slow motion playlist

★ banner & boards: by me :)

a/n: this is my first time writing smut and i basically died of second hand embarrassment during the process. pardon for my untalented ass, i tried this wip continuously for a week and i seriously don't think it could get anything better though it's probably not much.

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feralphoenix · 3 years

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a thing that i really love about hollow knight is that part of its incredibly strict Show Don’t Tell policy means it works a lot in juxtapositions. comparisons and parallels.

like, rather than Telling us what makes for a good and responsible ruler, we get to know about various different heads of state in the various nations of the crater, and we can observe how they handled international relations, public policy, etc and the consequences/effects of their choices, and draw conclusions by ourselves.

there are lots of different parent-child relationships, and sibling relationships, so that we have many examples to compare ghost and their family to.

there are also a number of higher beings around and you can compare them to each other to understand their different approaches to godhood, how they handled being the center of a culture & the responsibilities that entails (radi, unn, tpk) or the ways they sidestepped those roles (white lady, grimm). in addition to forming our opinions of these characters this also contextualizes what ghost does when they attain godhood in the godseeker endings & after the delicate flower variant, in godseeker mode.

like you can use these points of reference for a lot of different analysis topics!!! but one of the things that always Gets Me In My Emotions is the direct juxtaposition between herrah, radiance, and tpk and how differently these three characters handle the cost of fighting Existential Crisis.

the pale king’s policy is officially No Cost Too Great, but just like the hunter says in hollow’s bestiary entry, for tpk “cost” was a thing for other people to pay, and he was not willing to risk any sort of harm to his own person. his plan to deal with the infection involved sacrificing the dreamers & the hollow knight, and his plan to create a hollow knight involved birthing hundreds of thousands of children who were designed to be expendable - they were there so he could experiment on them, select a candidate, cull the failures, and then sacrifice said candidate.

the worst tpk might have experienced through all this is emotional turmoil, and it’s left ambiguous in-game whether he was actually conflicted about the child sacrifice/felt attachment to hollow or whether his personal low point throughout all this was being butthurt about his wife walking out rather than birth a second batch of vessels for the slaughter. (he must’ve been pretty darn butthurt to have lied to the kingdom that the white lady was dead.)

as soon as his plan failed and he had no other recourse, tpk fled rather than expose himself to any potential harm. he was willing to - perhaps desperate enough to - expend any number of chess pieces if it would save hallownest, but his own life and safety was NEVER on the table.

just like tpk, radiance is trying to protect herself and her people. just like tpk and herrah, she too is willing to go to any lengths necessary to get the settlers to fucking step off, give her children back, and leave her alone.

for her this entails being willing to bend her own principles - i’ve talked about this in depth before so you can find all that in my essay tag if you’re interested, but in-game evidence points to radiance having been a pacifist like the rest of her tribe pre-hallownest. and the infection is a curse that’s only sometimes fatal, but it causes extreme amounts of harm and fear and chaos to inflicted parties. and this level of harm is something she’s willing to do just to threaten/pressure tpk into backing down.

her method also causes a large amount of collateral damage (including lateral harm to other indigenous bugs!), suggesting that she either doesn’t have the emotional wherewithal to worry about who might get hurt, or just plain doesn’t care. if you squint, it’s possible to make the argument that radiance might have warned unn before her counterattack against hallownest, but even then forewarning was the only mitigation she was able and willing to provide. if this is what it takes to protect herself and her tribe, then so be it.

so, compared to tpk, who chose to actively sacrifice the lives of individuals to protect the institution of hallownest, and radiance, who doesn’t care about splash damage to bystanders as long as she can save her tribe... what i find extraordinary about herrah is that when she determined that sacrifice was necessary to protect deepnest, she took all that sacrifice upon herself.

most obviously herrah accepts the role of dreamer in hopes of ending the plague, sacrificing her life. in order to keep tpk from taking advantage of that to conquer deepnest, she also negotiates that he has to provide her with an heir, thus ensuring deepnest’s sovereignty... but this means she has to have sex with the very creature who has been trying to commit genocide against the spiders for generations. she has to let her lifelong worst enemy who she’s been fighting alone since the death of her husband impregnate her. this decision had to have come with some form of emotional distress for her, and yet herrah shoulders it and soldiers through it.

and then even through this, it’s implied in the white lady and midwife’s dialogue (+ posed in the dev notes/style guide) that tpk snatched up hornet when she was a child to raise her in the white palace. it’s unclear whether he did this to keep hornet as a hostage to make sure herrah couldn’t renege on their treaty now she’d got what she wanted out of the bargain, to ensure his offspring would be raised in the culture he created rather than in deepnest, which he clearly believed to be barbaric and uncivilized, or both.

yet instead of calling bullshit and flouncing on the deal or trying to steal hornet back, thereby exposing deepnest to the threat of both the infection And aggression from hallownest once more, herrah stuck with it. midwife says that herrah paid dearly for her involvement with this plan, but herrah valued deepnest’s survival over her own individual life, and saw it through to the end no matter how tpk’s plan caused her to suffer or hurt her dignity.

there’s an incredible amount of nobility and integrity herrah shows here. she refuses to let any harm come to her country, and insists that any and all sacrifice required of her as a leader be her sole responsibility. her courage, her political intelligence, and her strength of character as a leader are all nothing short of awe-inspiring.

at the same time, there is still a downside to herrah’s spirit of self-sacrifice. as anyone who’s ever watched steven universe can tell you, self-sacrifice is actually kind of a shitty solution to one’s problems because self-destruction hurts the people who love you.

we get glimpses of hornet’s intense emotional torment over her mother’s fate and her understanding that it’s necessary to let ghost murder herrah to change the status quo; similarly we can understand the crushing amount of personal responsibility hornet feels towards the whole crater comes from knowing the cost of her own birth, and having front row seats to her parents’ political power struggle.

we hear from herrah herself that everything she does is done for hornet, so hornet’s pain is probably the last thing herrah would have wanted, but ironically what hornet goes through in hollow knight is a direct consequence of herrah choosing to martyr herself.

anyway all of this speaks SO much for herrah and radi and tpk’s individual priorities and problem-solving strategies and also their blind spots... plus, there’s a lot about herrah’s character that goes underappreciated and this is one of those unsung aspects. fandom... fandom blease be SAD about SPIDER MAMA with me

#hollow knight #herrah the beast #the radiance #the pale king #hollow knight meta #essay #this got longer than i meant it to be i just have a lot of FEELINGS about HERRAH HOLLOWKNIGHT #also about radi hollowknight too but everyone knows that already lol

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ramblingguy54 · 3 years

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True Colors: An Emotionally Fantastic Serious Game Changer.

If we’re to look back at Reunion as Season 1′s dramatic pay off for Amphibia’s message of toxic friendships, as Anne & Sasha’s conflicting dynamic showed us, then True Colors is a colossal expansive note on this big theme of the series. True Colors makes Season 1′s finale look like a walk in the park for what angst goes down between our three main heroins in Season 2′s climatic resolution. Everything that can go wrong does go oh so painfully wrong for these three kids. Anne, to no one’s surprise, gets double crossed by Sasha leaving things between them a Hell of a lot more bitter than they were previously, as if that couldn’t already be topped when Sasha tried to kill the Plantars before. Anne has had enough of her lies and manipulation not being afraid to tell Sasha straight up how awful of a friend she’s been in general, even hitting her where it hurts most of all saying, “No, I’m done listening to you! I’m done trusting you! You’re a horrible person and I am done being FRIENDS with you!”, going so far as to get a shaken reaction out of Sasha dropping her brave face act, making this girl try to wipe away the frog family.

Right off the bat, True Colors makes it highly evident this isn’t just another story of stopping a bigger threat, but one hitting much closer to home, overall. Yes, King Andrias is certainly a dangerous villain, who makes his presence and intimidating nature known to the others by True Color’s final act, which despite this Amphibia isn’t entirely putting him at the forefront, rather focusing on a more intimate study of Anne, Sasha, and Marcy’s big emotional conflict. This finale knows exactly where to put its focus of importance on, so I love that instead of it being action packed we’re getting the spotlight shined on just how screwed up these three of a friendship have, in spite of Marcy claiming in The Dinner episode, “We’re supposed to be friends for life. We don’t split up!’ . Very ironic stuff right there, indeed.

True Colors’ most powerful strength it adds to Amphibia’s ongoing profound story about healthy friendships is the thorough deconstruction of these girls defined “ideal relationship” as people. Before Anne came to the world of Amphibia this kid was afraid to stand up for what she believed in, even knowing especially well that stealing the calamity box was morally questionable, but did it anyway. Sasha was super manipulative, abusive, and used her power to control people, like she did a lot of toward Anne in their lives. Marcy, while very smart, wasn’t the most competent physically, who soon grew into being more independent without needing to rely on Anne always having to be there for her. These three were changed immensely by the events of being thrust into this world of sentient amphibian creatures. Anne benefited morally most out out of all three in taking up the mantle of responsibility and ironing out her own issues. She’s become a much stronger person all around.

This episode asks us an important question though in nutshell with, “Have Sasha & Marcy truly changed for the better?”, since Anne has reached a point in her arc feeling genuinely content with who she’s become and the bonds that have been made with the Plantar family shown most notably with Sprig Plantar. Hence the whole purpose behind the song, It’s No Big Deal, with Anne feeling proud for who she is, yet not noticing a bigger issue right underneath her nose. That previous episode was meant to bring Anne’s happiness up only to bring it all crashing down in a devastating display of new revelations in True Colors. Every dramatic emotional beat isn’t just earned. Each significant moment is completely knocked out of the park by terrific voice acting, beautiful animation, and music composition that gave me serious emotional goosebumps. True Colors did exactly as Not What He Seems accomplished for Gravity Falls in shaking up its own respective dramatic stakes just when you thought it couldn’t get any higher for these protagonists. Shit seriously hits the fan here.

Did it ever occur to you, Anne? Sasha? That one of you knew more, than she was letting on? That ONE of you might’ve gotten you stranded in Amphibia on purpose...?

The big bombshell twist of Marcy playing a part too in getting them into this whole debacle completely flips everything upside down. Sasha pushed Anne into taking the Calamity Box, yes, but if Marcy never sent that photo because of her desire to stay with them together forever, then they wouldn’t have been stranded in basically a world full of dangerous creatures and who knows what else. Easily my favorite part of the episode, considering it adds more nuance to a situation that defined Amphibia’s story. It wasn’t just one person’s fault at the end of the day. Sasha bullied Anne into taking the box, Anne didn’t put her foot down to make a stand for something morally questionable, and Marcy took advantage of them both to benefit her own selfish desires for supposedly a “happy ending” not involving them staying apart, due to her parents moving away for a new job. All three girls played an important part on why they got landed into Amphiba. It’s why Anne’s statement to King Andrias, “The three of us may have made some mistake, but you...You’re evil and I’m gonna stop you!”, holds such a real weight to it, as this story continues to solidify how genuinely fleshed out their dynamic is.

Marcy’s super desperate plea to be understood by Anne & Sasha when Andrias revealed her getting them thrown into Amphibia purposefully was hard to watch. On one hand, I felt for Marcy because she didn’t want real life circumstances to tear apart that close connection she had to Sasha & Anne. Sure, she could’ve just kept in touch with them over the phone or chatting online, too. However, Marcy had known them since very early childhood. When you’ve been so attached to someone it can be a devastating thing, depending on just how vulnerable you are emotionally, to start drifting apart. Marcy represents that embodiment of toxic need for togetherness and couldn’t bear to let a possibility, like moving away, throw a wrench into her happiness and friendship, as well.

Never mind Marcy wanting to stay permanently in a different reality, rather than face her’s, but it made this person feel like something more. It gave her a chance to feel truly special in being able to live out a fantasy dream of having such power and freedom that a kid, like herself, couldn’t have had. The freedom to know she is plenty capable of making it out there on her own without Anne having to watch this kid like a hawk. So, to have someone, or something, try taking it away from her terrified Marcy of facing a terrible truth. That she isn’t strong enough after all to live a life without Anne & Sasha by her side completely, where Marcy will never feel truly worthy enough to blossom into her own person. It’s why that line, “I just...didn’t want to be alone...”, carries such a deep pain to it all. Marcy just crumbles into pieces accepting her greatest weakness. As much as Marcy fumbled the ball big time, it’s so easy to empathize with her on the idea of feeling competent enough. Marcy never meant to hurt Anne or Sasha, but the sad crushing punchline is she very much did.

Speaking of which, Anne had every right to be upset and mad, obviously. Anne has been missing so many things from her life before everything went off the wall. Hopping Mall especially highlighted Anne’s emotional desire to give anything just to hear her mother’s singing again. This teenager has been really dealing with a lot of grief in general quite honestly. Anne got into a high stakes battle against Sasha to save new friends, who’d practically became like an adopted family, which left the poor girl traumatized and heartbroken over the end result. She thought finding Marcy would help compensate for it and eventually be able to mend those complications with Sasha to boot. It’s simply painful to see it all blow up in Anne’s face to know not only Sasha betrayed her trust yet again, but realizing Marcy also played a part of responsibility in getting them thrown here. Matt Braly really just decided to slap future trust issues onto Anne finding out Hop Pop, Sasha, and Marcy were all super dishonest in their intentions at one point or another. Damn, I feel so bad for her.

It makes their embracing hug back in Marcy At The Gates so much harder to watch. Anne was super glad to see her again. Anne had wondered what became of Marcy or even possibly started to think she could even be alive at all. Then come to find out later on Marcy having intentionally ripped her away from a normal life must’ve felt worse then what happened with Sasha. Anne, already done with all of Sasha’s bullshit, thought she could at least expect better from Marcy not letting her down, but that too wasn’t the case. Marcy is very much as flawed as Sasha in what she has done. To think, Anne wanted so badly to get back home, yet she’s staring the very person dead in the eye, who ripped her away from it to begin with. Marcy knew Sasha would talk Anne into taking the box from that thrift shop, even if she wasn’t completely certain it would successfully teleport them away. Regardless of whatever good intentions someone can have in why they did what they did, it still doesn’t absolve them of said mistake. Fact of the matter is, Marcy tragically made her own bed, by choosing to mess with forces she couldn’t begin to comprehend and now has to face consequences, in spite of her not deserving them.

What really got to me was when Marcy tried to spin around Anne’s personal growth and close friendship with the Plantars as all entirely thanks to her. When she said, “I gave you this! I gave you everything!”, I was like, “Nope, that couldn’t be any further from the truth.”, seeing everything that has culminated in Anne’s journey of bettering herself. Marcy didn’t give Anne anything, but a one way ticket to cutting the kid off from her family, presuming she’d be fine with this idea. It’s all kinds of messed up, however what it boils down to is Marcy undermining Anne’s independence and agency. Anne’s moral judgement in decision making was what allowed her to create this new life she made for herself in Amphibia. Anne’s honesty as a whole led her down a path of togetherness, while Marcy’s lying landed her in a result of not wanting to be alone, costing her so much.

“I don’t believe this. We were so focused on each other we couldn’t see what was right in front of us!”

True Colors excels at earning each of its emotional beats because they line up with character motivations down to the last letter. Anne doesn’t want to trust Sasha anymore because of their already rocky past, which leads to her helping King Andrias regain control of his kingdom. Sasha not keeping a lid on her temper, wanting to rule over Amphibia, and trying to reinforce that power dynamic with Anne & Marcy only made things worse for her image of a changed good friend. There wasn’t a chance in Hell Anne would hear Sasha’s reasoning after she flat out tried to take away her frog family, by attempting to use the Calamity Box a bit ago in the episode. Marcy wanted to believe there was a happily ever after in seeing this world traveling idea as their only chance for salvation as friends for life, but it turned out to be something much more sinister, when learning of Andrias’ backstory and his true scumbag nature. All three of their motivations come clashing together, blinding them from a much bigger danger. Something that effectively puts everyone at stake.

Amphibia’s Season 2 finale works so excellently, given it covers important dramatic elements it’s been stirring around since Season 1′s early rumblings. Amphibia is a story centered around people’s need for emotional connections. True Colors builds miraculously off what Reunion already did quite well in showing friendships can become rough and they are never easy to deal with. When you have to make a stand it can be a tough pill to swallow on the reality check of maybe this “good friend” of your’s isn’t as nice as you previously thought them to be. Anne having been hurt one too many times now by her former friend sends that message close to home, so much so even Sasha begins to question her morality as a human being. It poignantly encapsulates how this trio’s complex friendship is a serious growing issue needing to be reexamined, overall.

What if Anne’s right..? What if I am a horrible person...?

Something I absolutely love to pieces about True Colors, also a testament to Season 2′s darn good writing, is how much introspective we get from each character on what they’re feeling. We’ve seen plenty of Sasha’s vulnerability before in other episodes centered on her issues, but now we’re getting to the root of it. Sasha is really taking everything more to heart, little by little. Sasha’s understanding what kind of an effect she has on people, seeing the damage it has caused made evident by Percy and Braddock in Barrel’s Warhammer. Grime once told her, “Some dreams have a price and not everyone is willing to pay it.”, where she’s questioning that idealism every passing minute the invasion plan proceeds further into reaching success. Sasha isn’t sure what to do with herself anymore feeling aimless. Those previous episodes had a real impact on her priorities more than she cared to let on with Sasha’s typical tough girl act. This kid has let her guard down more, which scares and confuses Sasha. She’s always used to playing the role of protector it contradicts everything Sasha stands for when the roles are totally reversed because now Anne has made her feel the tremendous change in their growth as individuals.

Sasha’s lifestyle has been all about control that after somewhat learning to be more considerate to Anne & Marcy’s feelings she feels beyond conflicted about what truly matters to her. The most screwed up part of it all is Sasha didn’t want to fight anymore, taking up a pacifist approach after seeing what King Andrias had been hiding from everyone. It’s a fitting punishment for Sasha to try bringing Anne over to work together once more, but getting her pleas for companionship outright ignored. Anne was correct that Sasha had wasted all the chances to be reasonable. Boonchuy tried to hear out Sasha before at The Third Temple. One wanted to start things over again to iron out their serious issues, but the other was driven by bitterness, while only remorseful to a degree at best, of seeing their once weak friend become so independent, mature, and stronger that it drove her up wall. Sasha wanted to take away that “problem” being the Plantars, since in her eyes they’re the source of Anne’s strength, driving a wedge further between the two girls in their heated Reunion 2.0 battle.

True Colors demonstrates the horrific price of no trust, communication, nor teamwork from the three main girls that Andrias smoothly took advantage of, as if they were fiddles.

“That’s the thing about friends isn’t it? The more you love them, the more it hurts when they go.”

King Andrias is quite literally what I wanted Lunaris to be, where DuckTales’ Season 2 finale didn’t impress me on doing. He’s a serious big baddie to the main cast, who follows through on his threats of violence to demonstrate his wide array of arsenal and power. Andrias doesn’t just emotionally manipulate characters, like poor Marcy, but utterly crush them without an ounce of remorse for his actions. When he dropped Sprig out that window after Anne willingly let him have the Calamity Box back I thought they were legit gonna kill this boy off. The way Anne’s flashback montage of her good times with Sprig were eerily shot really didn’t help either on that note. Anne’s Calamity power finally activating is easily up there among stuff, like Dewey risking his life for Della’s disappearance in Last Crash, where the cinematography is shot and animated brilliantly. You feel Anne’s blind raging sadness in every hit she landed on those robots and Andrias. If anyone didn’t believe Sprig was like a little brother to Anne, then I dunno how anyone couldn’t view their bond anymore as such after this hugely defining scene. Anne went bloodthirsty when she believed Sprig to be dead further evidenced when she hugged him in relief afterwards exclaiming, “Sprig!? You’re alive!? Oh, thank goodness...”, which cuts deep so damn much.

Anne was ready to fight every one of Andrias’ troops in that castle to the death, if need be. Before Sprig came back from falling, thanks to Marcy’s quick acting, to comfort Anne, her only goal was to slaughter every opponent in that throne room, along with making Andrias pay dearly for even daring to lay a single finger on anyone of the Plantars. I’m not gonna lie, this pivotal power up reminded me so much Gohan turning Super Saiyan 2 after Cell curb stomped Android 16 into pieces with a smirk on his face. Anne Boonchuy’s maddening outburst is a classic testament to the idea of, “Piss off the nicest person and they’ll make it their mission to instill the biggest kind of fear/terror into you.”. showing this kid at her most vulnerable mental state, yet. Sprig & Anne’s cathartic embrace really messed me up in reinforcing just how these two respect, love, and would go above any of their limitations to help the other out. Sprig’s “death” scene was a masterful bait by the writers into making us think someone was gonna die and it was gonna be a poor kid, no less.

However, it was actually all just a bait and switch for the real, “Oh, shit. They really just did that”, moment with Marcy unexpectedly getting run through with Andrias’ gigantic sword. In a last ditch effort, Marcy wanted to atone for what she had a hand in getting them all into. Marcy was ironclad determined in making her own stand for what was right trying to save the people she endangered. Akin to what Sasha did in Reunion for saving Anne’s life, Marcy does the exact same here. Although, unfortunately this time, no one is here to protect Marcy from escaping death, like Grime catching Sasha from plummeting at Toad Tower. Marcy couldn’t react in time because she was so focused on helping her dear friends out. She wanted to prove to herself at least one time, “I’ve screwed up so much stuff with my friends. Maybe, just maybe. If I get my friends back home, it’ll prove I’m not an entirely crappy person for setting these events into motion.”. Marcy’s own deep seeded remorse is what saved Anne & the Plantars, while being the cause of her own untimely demise at Andrias’ hands.

This scene is what no doubt encouraged the warning sign for younger viewers Disney decided to make for them. It’s impressive how far Matt and his crew are willing to go for intense dramatic content. Andrias trying to crush Polly with his fist after destroying Frobo with casual ease, dropping Sprig out of the window from up sky high, and stabbing Marcy with his powerful sword displays his cold blooded brutality. Doesn’t matter who you are. If you get in the way of Andrias’ plans for multiverse domination, then he’ll throw anyone into their own grave, be it man, woman, or child. That’s the mark of a truly terrifying antagonist.

Andrias didn’t care who had to be hurt or manipulated to get back the box, so he could invade other worlds with Earth being his next prime target for invasion. Marcy’s fate is a horrifyingly poetic statement, since Sasha stated to Anne in a flashback from Marcy At The Gates, “One of these days, she’s gonna get herself killed.”, with True Colors tying back to this line in a disturbing manner. Something that sends chills down my spine is we get to see the full extent of how far Andrias shoved the sword through her body. We don’t just see the entry point of where it hit her, but it even zooms out to show the whole thing. Real talk, I got serious Avatar The Last Airbender vibes from this scene. Reminded me so much of Aang getting suddenly zapped with lightning by Azula when he tried to enter the Avatar state. Marcy didn’t want to be alone so badly she ended up inevitably dying alone trying to send Anne back home to their reality. One Hell of a way to close off Marcy’s last moments in Season 2, until her inevitable resurrection happens in Season 3 now that King Andrias has her in a tube tank that looks tied to his master.

True Colors ends on a deeply bittersweet cliffhanger leaving the fates of Sasha & Grime totally unknown if they’ll get away by the skin of their teeth, or get captured by Andrias’ soldiers and robots. Anne finally returned home with the Plantars, but at a deadly cost of leaving her other close friends behind in Amphibia. After all the isolation, heartbreak, and endurance she went through with her frog family Anne finds herself at a total loss for words. Once again, Anne is in a state of solitude of not knowing if her friends are really okay or not, mirroring the start of Season 1 when she landed into Amphibia’s world. It’s safe to say to say that, “Finally me and it’s no big deal.”, lyrics have aged terribly for Anne’s realization of finding her own identity came at the expense of getting separated from friends she’s known since kindergarten. Definitely see Anne becoming a lot more protective of the Plantars now more than ever after watching Marcy drop to the ground from being stabbed in front of her eyes.

Amphibia’s Season 2 finale is exactly how you capitalize on a winning story telling formula of dramatic writing, lovable characters with layered depth, and increasing the stakes of your story in an organic manner. True Colors is a finale that should be talked about for a long time to come, as it not only showed how worth the wait it was, but reinforces why Amphibia is a truly great series. It’s unafraid to take its characters to dark places in a way that feels totally earned.

Amphibia Season 2 is everything a sequel to a first film should be.

#amphibia true colors #amphibia spoilers #amphibia season 2 #anne boonchuy #marcy wu #sasha waybright #sprig plantar #polly plantar #hop pop plantar

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heejinnien · 3 years

Text

bts | roses chapter three

word count: 3.0k words

pairing: bts x reader

synopsis: y/n is a member of the seoul behavioral analysis unit. usually, she’s the cat in the typical game of cat and mouse played with the criminals they catch, but when a mysterious string of murders has her on edge, she discovers she’s caught the attention of one of a dangerous criminal — and he’s determined to make her pay for it.

or, not all attention is the good kind.

genre: horror, angst

warnings: yandere themes, descriptions of gore, descriptions of violence, murder, the reader carries a gun because they need to defend themself against bad guys, guns, manipulation, victim blaming, this is overall just a very dark fic

author’s note: originally, i was going to end this series at this chapter; however, i think it makes the most sense to end this chapter where i did. note that i updated the rosses masterlist according to my new plans for roses. as always, if you have any questions, please don’t hesitate to shoot me an ask or dm, or just let me know your thoughts! i would be happy to explain things to you, and i would also love to hear your feedback or who you think is suspicious. as always, adhere to the warnings and do not read if any of those things trigger you.

roses masterlist

You pace the length of the ER’s waiting room, chewing your bottom lip nervously.

The rest of your team is assembled around you in various states of being, the same gnawing worry that you feel reflected on their features. Jungkook sprawls listlessly on an overstuffed armchair, Jimin stares stoically at nothing, Hoseok holds an angry staring contest with a potted poinsettia, Namjoon speaks furiously into his phone, and Jin buries his face in his hands, fingers tugging at the locks of his hair. You have never seen your team look so despondent, so heartbroken before, and the sight makes your heart wrench.

The sound of footsteps cause your head to snap up.

“Agents.” A kindly looking woman gives you a sympathetic smile, eyes raking in the various states of your team. Her white lab coat signifies her status, and your heart jumps at the sight.

“How is he, Dr. Chou?” You ask, reading the ID card pinned on the doctor’s coat.

“Please, call me Tzuyu.” She clears her throat, tucking a stray lock behind her ear. “Dr. Taehyung had a lot of bleeding, both internally and externally, and, quite frankly, it’s a miracle he didn’t bleed out on the way here.”

“Was all of the bleeding from the stab wounds?” Namjoon asks, managing to retain his professionalism and composure despite the fact that it’s Taehyung that you’re talking about.

“The external bleeding was,” Tzuyu confirms. “The internal bleeding was due to damage to some of Dr. Taehyung’s organs. It appears that whoever attacked this young agent also beat him, causing this damage.”

The thought of Taehyung — sweet, loveable Taehyung — being beaten and stabbed by the unsub your team has been trying to catch makes your head swim. Your hand shoots out, using the wall to hold yourself up, to hold yourself together. You feel Jungkook stand, resting a hand on your arm and murmuring something consolatory, but it feels as though nothing can take away the deep ache that has formed inside of you.

Tzuyu continues talking, but you can’t bring yourself to care. After all, who gave you the right to be here, alive and well, when Taehyung lies on his possible death bed?

“All I can say is, it’s lucky you found him when you did, Agent Y/N.” Your name from the doctor causes your attention to return to the current conversation, the crashing guilt pushed aside for a moment. “Much longer and Dr. Taehyung may have bled out.”

Tzuyu gives you another sympathetic smile, before gesturing behind her. “I have to return to work, but you’re welcome to visit your teammate. Unfortunately, there’s no way to tell when he’ll wake up, but we’re hoping for the best.”

Namjoon gives Tzuyu his thanks as you attempt to process the doctor’s words. Jungkook’s hand is warm against your skin, and you’re sure if it wasn’t there you would be lost, ungrounded from the world.

You’re a federal agent, for God’s sake, so why can’t you pull yourself together?

“Y/N.”

Your head snaps up as Namjoon calls your name, eyes coldly appraising you. His face is expressionless, but Namjoon subtly threatening to remove you from the case rings in your head. You notice that sometime while you were lost, drowning in your uncertainties the rest of the team stood from their various positions around the waiting room, faces grim. They gather around you and Namjoon, waiting to hear your leader’s next move. Now that your attention is focused on him, Namjoon clears his throat, no trace of any emotions except professionalism apparent from him.

“Y/N, Jimin, and Hoseok, I would like you to remain here. Jimin and Hoseok, run through a cognitive interview with Y/N and see we can determine anything that might indicate as to why the unsub attacked Taehyung. The rest of you will come with me back to the station. We’re going to be working similarly on the unsub’s motives, but we’ll be using the evidence we’ve gathered so far to see if we can link it to Taehyung.”

Your teammates nod, the team’s usually determined energy following the command of orders now subdued. Jungkook squeezes your shoulder reassuringly before following Namjoon out of the waiting room, Jin giving you a small smile and following suit. You stand after they’ve gone, shifting awkwardly. You’re too embarrassed by your unprofessionalism, by the way that this case has affected you when the rest of your team seems to be keeping themselves level.

“I know after everything doing a cognitive isn’t exactly what you want to do right now, but…” Hoseok’s voice trails off as he and Jimin stand beside you, uncertain.

“I get it,” you say, giving Hoseok a tight smile. “It’s all part of the job.”

Jimin motions for you to take a seat on the overstuffed armchair Jungkook had vacated earlier and you do. Tension seeps through each of your limbs, and Jimin notices, grabbing one of your hands and sitting across from you.

“Hey, it’ll be okay. We’re right here with you,” Jimin says reassuringly.

You swallow dryly, nodding. Your free hand taps against your leg, and your back is stiff as you sit as straight as a rod. You close your eyes, exhaling, and force yourself to return to when you found Taehyung.

“Walk us through how you stumbled across Taehyung’s body,” Hoseok says, voice sounding from your right. You nod, swallowing quickly.

“I stayed late to review the case files. It was getting late, and I knew that the team had taken the rest of the unit’s vehicles so I was looking on my phone for a rideshare service app.” You pause, taking a shaky breath. “I wasn’t looking where I was going. I remember pushing open the doors to the station, and I had only made it a few feet when I tripped. I remember falling forward, and when I regained my bearings I noticed that my hands were coated with blood.”

You swallow harshly, free hand clenching into a fist. “You’re doing great, Y/N,” Jimin coos, rubbing his thumb idly against the back of your hand. You force yourself to count to ten before continuing.

“The first thing I noticed was a foot, and that the foot was attached to a leg, and I followed it upwards until I saw… Taehyung. He was unconscious, and there was so much blood everywhere.”

“Can you remember anything specifically about the scene?” Hoseok asks gently.

“I just remember the smell of all that blood.” You choke out. “I think it was still seeping out when I found him.”

“So he must have been attacked not too long before you found him, then,” Jimin assumes.

“What was Taehyung doing at the police station?” Hoseok presses. “Did you hear anything from him?”

“No, I thought he left with you guys,” you say, frowning.

“He did, but when we heard that Taehyung had been attacked and we went to drive here, one of the vehicles had been taken,” Jimin supplies. “He must have taken it to get back to the station, I’ll call Namjoon and see if the vehicle’s there.”

You furrow your brow in confusion. What was Taehyung doing at the station that late at night?

“Surely you know something.” Hoseok says, voice infused with a cold undertone that you can’t detect. Your eyes snap open in disbelief at his statement, and Hoseok coldly appraises you, as if you’re lying.

“I’ve told you everything I remember,” you say defensively.

Despite your refusal, Hoseok continues, coiled like a snake about to pounce on its victim. “Maybe you called Taehyung back to the station so you could attack him because he knew something you didn’t want us to find out. The unsub has taken an uncanny interest in you Y/N, why is that?”

“Hoseok, enough,” Jimin stands, his chair rubbing against the hospital’s floor loudly. The sound makes you wince, and Hoseok pounces on the sight, striking.

“Everyone thinks you’re this perfect little angel, Y/N, but why don’t you tell us the truth? I bet you enjoyed hurting Taehyung, feeling his bones break as you beat him repeatedly. You try to act innocent, but sweetheart, I can see right through you.”

The gleam in Hoseok’s eye is feral, sadistic. Jimin shoves him backwards angrily, but the action is drowned out as you’re lost in the anger in Hoseok’s eyes.

You feel so small, so powerless, and something inside you snaps.

“Go to hell, Jung Hoseok,” you hiss, shoving past your teammates. You don’t care where you’re going as long as it’s away, and you swipe furiously at the angry tears that have fallen. You ignore Jimin’s cries for you to come back, your feet on autopilot as you shove open doors and storm down unfamiliar hallways.

Somehow, you find yourself on the hospital rooftop. It’s still dark out, and a soft breeze gently wraps around you, ruffling your hair and slipping under the edges of your clothing. It calms you, and you wander to the rooftop’s edge, leaning against the iron railing wrapping around the rooftop’s length.

Since it’s the crack hours of the morning, the sound of traffic is dimmed. Neon lights and gentle hues paint the city skyline, and it feels peaceful.

You used to be naive until you joined the NIS. You didn’t believe that people were capable of such vile and despicable things, and most of all you hadn’t known the true depths of the evil that reside in the city, in the world, unless you had seen everything that you had. You don’t think you can ever get used to the sadness you feel whenever someone innocent loses their life, the disgust or horror you feel whenever someone commits a heinous crime.

The soft creak of a door being pushed open pierces the night’s tranquility. Quiet footsteps sound behind you until you see a familiar profile from your peripheral lean beside you. You aren’t ready to speak, to face the reality that is outside the peacefulness you’ve constructed for yourself here, and so you are content to remain, unwilling to break the fragile silence.

“It’s beautiful up here,” he says finally, and his voice drags you back to reality, forces you to accept the truths of the world all over again.

“It is,” you say honestly. “It makes you forget the horrors that happen down there on the streets.”

He hums noncommittally, and you wonder what’s going through his mind. Out of all of your teammates, he always seems to be the most collected whenever you hear news that makes you want to vomit, the most unflinching when when trying to reason with the most depraved souls, the most calm when you hear that yet another innocent life has been taken.

“Things won’t always be like this, you know.” He says, pulling you out of your once more spiralling thoughts. “I was like you, at first. There will always be bad guys, but it gets easier.”

You shudder at the thought that one day, the loss of an innocent life may not bother you anymore, may not matter as much as it should.

“I hope not,” you admit, and you know it’s true. You turn, scanning the face of your teammate for any traces that he feels the way you do. Jimin’s face is unreadable as he studies you in return, pain and frustration filling the void between you and melting away to tenderness and care.

“For your sake, I hope not, too.”

“Let’s review our profile.”

Your team gathers around the conference room table, grim expressions adorning their faces. Taehyung’s vegetative state weighs heavily on your minds, and you’re all blatantly exhausted. You feel powerless — usually you’re the cat in a game of cat and mouse with your unsubs, but this time you’re the one being preyed on. Namjoon speaks from the head of the table, pinning crime scene photographs on a bulletin board behind him as he speaks.

“So far we know our unsub is calculated, controlling, and sadistic. They’re most likely a he due to the strength required to subdue the victims, as well as the violent nature of the wounds inflicted upon each of the victims.”

“We also know he loves taunting us, which factors into his control,” Jin adds. “He took a huge risk using lamb’s blood and leaving roses — both of those could have easily been traced back to him.”

“But they weren’t because he’s smart enough not to get caught, which speaks to who he is,” Hoseok chimes in. “Maybe he has some sort of criminal background.”

“He chose high risk victims,” Jungkook says, clearing his throat. “Speaks to his confidence in his abilities.”

“For the first few victims he dyed their hair,” Jimin adds, confirming Jungkook’s statement. “He used excessive overkill when he murdered them, and then dumped their bodies in alleys to be found.”

“The coroner confirmed the victims had been dead for at least twelve hours by the time they were found, but each victim went missing a few days before then.”

“He even sent me notes directly, which means he wants us to feel that he’s in charge.” You stare at the mahogany table as you speak, Hoseok’s gaze burning. You refuse to meet his gaze, instead choosing to flicker your gaze between your other teammates as you speak. Hoseok’s accusation still rings in your head, and you’ve refused to speak to him since then. Your other teammates have noticed the icy distance you’ve kept from Hoseok, but nobody has dared to mention anything. “He’s toying with us, this is all a game to him.”

“Yet he said it was our fault, as if he’s telling us we’re supposed to stop him,” Jungkook says. He nods once in your direction — brief, but you know that it is his way of showing you support. The action causes a warmth to spread through you, as if he has helped you to gain footing in a tumultuous storm.

“As the unsub murdered more victims, he got sloppier. The stab wounds were less deep, which is probably due to the decreased amount of time the unsub kept the victims for.”

The sound of a phone ringing cuts Jin off, and Namjoon turns, pulling out his phone in one motion and setting it on the table, saying, “What is it, Yoongi?”

“So, I was doing some digging and apparently the cardstock that each of the notes were written on can only be bought online from a specific retailer.” He snorts, and the sound of typing fills in Yoongi’s silence. “Our unsub has expensive taste, I’ll say that. That cardstock is not cheap. So, I tracked the most recent shipping to an abandoned apartment complex, and, get this, the address also had a bouquet of roses sent to it recently.”

Your heart races as Yoongi’s words register. Around you, your team is already in action and you struggle to keep up, shoving your case file in your bag and checking that your gun is holstered.

“Thanks, Yoongi,” Namjoon says, already grabbing his phone and turning on his heel. “Let’s get this guy.”

“Hey, Taehyung.”

You stand by Taehyung’s bedside, staring at your teammate’s broken and listless form. The steady beeping of a monitor sounds in time with the steady rise and fall of his chest, and the smell of chemicals makes your nose burn. Taehyung’s cheeks are hollow, sunken, and his skin is ashen. You grab your teammate’s frail hand, fighting the rising sadness within you.

“I stopped by to tell you we’re going to capture the person who did this to you.”

Your voice cracks, and you quickly swipe at the moisture forming at your eyes. The sight of Taehyung’s listless body makes your heart break, and anger and pain rush through you. “Jimin and Jin are waiting in the car, but I just had to see you first. I’m so sorry that this happened to you. It should have been me, not you.”

You close your eyes and fight to breathe, your inhale shaky and ragged. You force your feelings down, wrestling them away. You’re so focused on evening your breaths that you miss a slight rustling, miss the feeling of the hand against yours pull away.

“Y/N?”

You gasp as a familiar voice calls your name, your eyes snapping open. Taehyung moves, head lilting from side to side. His eyes flutter, and he groans.

“Taehyung, oh my god.” You quickly move closer. “How are you — ”

“I was on my way to tell you it’s someone on our team.”

Taehyung’s confession is like a splash of cold water, dousing you. You blink your eyes rapidly, trying to process his statement.

“What are you talking about?”

Taehyung opens his mouth to respond and is cut off by an intense bout of coughing. He doubles over, the beeping of his heart monitor increasing in frequency. Your hands flutter as you panic at the sight, unsure what to do.

“I’m going to go get a nurse — ”

“Stay.” Taehyung’s hand shoots out unnaturally fast, capturing your wrist and halting your movements towards the door. He turns his head as he lets out another cough, his grip not loosening for a moment. “I have…to tell you…about what I found.”

As Taehyung speaks, his voice loses its power. His grip on your wrist weakens, and he leans back against his bed, groaning. His eyes flutter closed as he lets out another cough.

“Taehyung?”

You receive no response, and you shake Taehyung’s hand desperately.

“Taehyung, please, I can’t do this without you,” your voice cracks as the realization that Taehyung has left you once again hits you. You close your eyes as a single tear escapes. You count to ten slowly before opening your eyes, leaning down and pressing a soft kiss to Taehyung’s forehead.

“We’ll catch the person who did this, mark my words,” you vow, turning on your heel and storming towards the vehicle where Jimin and Jin are waiting for you.

Whatever happens next, you’re ready. And you’re determined to make someone pay.

send me an or dm if you would like to be added or removed from the taglist!

tagging: @kassrole, @hoebii, @biaswreckme, @taegularities, @moccahobi, @scarlet2007, @deepdarkdelights, @birbdae, @mieohmy, @samros95, @ggukkieland, @glossiestrawberry

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smaidjor · 3 years

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and i pay for my place by the ring (Chapter 1)

Hey guys! Welcome to another angsty fic by yours truly, provider of flower husbands pain.

Some things you should know before you jump into this:

1. This is a companion fic to my fic "i know they're losing". You can understand it without having read the other one, since it's the same story from two different POVs but I think the overall experience is better with both!

2. The overall title of each fic is from the mitski song I bet on losing dogs. Chapter titles are from the Last Goodbye from the Hobbit films.

3. There is a lot of lord of the rings lore in both fics, and I mean a lot. You may be kinda confused if you've never read tolkien's works. It will all be explained eventually, though!

4. With the fact that it's a companion fic and a lot of people came here from Jimmy's POV in mind- this is a lot heavier of a fic. The content warnings are heavier and the angst is more intense. You have been warned.

(Obligatory disclaimer that this is about characters, not ccs, and do not ship real people, as always!)

Chapter Title: to these memories i will hold

Chapter Wordcount: 4000

Content warnings: suicidal thoughts, self-esteem issues, panic attacks, past death, very frank discussion of death. (In general, if suicide or death are triggering topics for you, this is probably not the fic for you. Stay safe and take care of yourself!)

AO3

Actual fic under the cut:

Scott didn’t expect to survive 3rd life. No one did, he thinks, but especially not him. Clever, clever Scott, who knew his fate too well for his own good. He could have chosen his allies carefully, he knows, could have played on their emotions to make them think he was loyal until the moment he turned on them to win. He knew who the strongest factions and warriors were, the most cunning and intelligent participants in this death game they were forced into. Instead, he chose Jimmy. Sweet, dopey Jimmy, who had the personality of a golden retriever and only a handful of braincells at any given time. Jimmy, who was worth more than all the stars in the sky to him. Who made him feel alive . No, Scott didn’t expect to win. Not when it was Jimmy by his side- when it was Jimmy by his side, winning didn’t matter. All that mattered was Jimmy’s blush when Scott pressed a kiss to his cheek, the way his hair looked like gold in the sunlight and his smile lit up Scott’s whole world.

After Jimmy died, Scott stopped wanting to survive 3rd life. What was the point? The stars can shine on without the sun, but all life on Earth would wither and die. The same happened to Scott’s broken, bitter heart, he found. Jimmy was the first person in years to love him truly, wholly, with no strings attached; it was terrifying how quickly Scott fell for the first person to look at him and not expect him to be anything but what he was. Scott’s world, which used to be mountain peaks and endless blue sky, narrowed to warm brown eyes and a grin like sunshine quicker than he could comprehend. Jimmy, Jimmy, Jimmy, it all came back to him. What was Scott without Jimmy? The unwanted twin, the unloved child, the un-elven elf. Because who cared if he was a good shot with a bow or good at organizing teams or building pretty little houses? He would always be second-born, second-best.

It was fitting, really, that when Scott died, he died alone. Some might find it ironic that the man who knew enough people to fill the roster of a championship held by a god every month died without a single person to witness it save his enemies, but in the end, it was always going to be like this, Scott knew. He hadn’t been there to see Jimmy die, he hadn’t been able to hold him in his final moments and soothe the agony of death. Maybe this was his punishment. He wouldn’t be surprised; the gods of this world did not smile on him and never would. Why should they, when he had failed the only person who had ever found him good enough?

When he woke up in Rivendell, he was almost disappointed. Almost. He considered ditching the rest of the elves, up and leaving to somewhere that didn’t make it feel like the noose of immortality was slowly tightening around his neck. If nothing else, Noxite would let him crash at the MCC server for a bit until he found somewhere to go. And yet, in the end, Scott’s stubborn sense of duty won out. The elves needed a ruler. Xornoth had disappeared to god knows where, and though they had been braver, wiser, better in every way, Scott was the one who had stayed. Who was willing to take up the crown that weighed so heavily on its bearers. So Scott, who no one ever expected to rule, took up the burden of leadership.

Now, he tries and fails to get out of bed and wonders what the point of that even was. He’s fading, and worse than that, he’s fading over a human. His ancestors are probably rolling in their graves. Rivendell will be leaderless within a decade, and this time there are no heirs to take control. Not even a ‘spare’ like Scott used to be. What a mess.

There are footsteps on the stairs. They’re unfamiliar, meaning they could be a threat, but he’s too tired to bother sitting up. If he dies, well- it’s inevitable, really, in the same way watching the mortals he loves dies is.

The person comes around the corner, and Scott realizes with no joy that he won’t be dying today after all. Katherine looks both curious and concerned, but her voice tilts towards the latter when she asks “Scott?” and then, more hesitantly “Lord Smajor?”

He blinks at her, exhausted. “Hi, Katherine.”

“I came to talk to you about some empires stuff, but, I mean, if this is a bad time, I can come back later…?” She sounds so thrown off by his state that Scott almost feels bad.

Whatever it is, it must be important if she’s come all the way here, though, so he gestures her to a chair. “No, no, stay. I can muster the energy for a meeting, just don’t ask me to get up.”

Katherine takes the seat. “I came to talk about the corruption on the server, but- are you okay? Are you sick?”

Nothing about the question is funny in any way, but Scott laughs regardless. “In a way, yes.”

“What do you mean?”

“Take my hand.” He offers it out, knowing the unnatural cold is unsettling no matter if you’re elven or not. Katherine does as he asks, the concern on her face only growing as she grips his icy hand.

“Elves don’t get sick like mortals do,” Scott explains. “Nor do we die of old age. But we get...heartsickness, you might call it. We call it fading in our tongue- the cold hands are a symptom of that. Our souls are fragile, and the grief of the mortal plane can be overwhelming. If an elf is too struck by it, they fade away and die.” The words taste bitter on his tongue, a frank reminder of the slow and painful death that awaits him.

Katherine gasps, and Scott knows he’s alarmed her.

He goes on, though. “It usually happens to old elves, world-weary.” Ironic, it’s ironic that he’s saying that as a young elf explaining his own death. “Those who are tired of existence. But any elf who has experienced enough grief is at risk.”

Her face is nothing short of horrified. “You’re- fading? But doesn’t it usually happen to old elves? Wait, are you old?”

“I’m fifty-five.”

“Is that old?”

He has to laugh. “Fifty is the elven equivalent of eighteen for humans, the age of maturity.” Though he feels so much older than that, both in elven terms and in human.

“Oh.”

There’s a moment of silence, then, “How can you be so calm if you’re dying?”

“I’m tired, Katherine. The world tore me away from the people I loved, and..I’m tired of fighting it.” He’s so, so exhausted. So sick of having to claw and scrape and struggle for the barest scraps of happiness.

“Is there a way to reverse fading- to fix it?” Katherine sounds so hopeful that the question seems almost naive even though she’s far more capable of a ruler than he is. Naive in the affairs of elves, maybe, much as she’s intelligent in so many other ways.

Scott tries not to flinch at the innocent inquiry, thinking about the deaths from fading that he’s watched. “Technically, yes. If an elf recovers enough emotionally, it’s reversible. But whatever caused them to fade the first time can- and often does- cause it again.” And again, and again, until there’s nothing to be done but let them die , he finishes in his head.

Katherine nods, a look of determination overtaking the hope. “We’ll just have to reverse it, then.”

“That’s sweet, Katherine, but I’m dying.”

“No. You’re not going to die. Now come on, you can show me your empire while I fill you in on what’s happening on the rest of the continent.” She sounds so firm that he doesn’t dare disobey, though his exhaustion makes a fair effort at convincing him to. Will this really fix anything? Unlikely. But it’s worth it to try, if only to humor Katherine. At least this way she’ll have the comfort of having tried to save him when he inevitably fades away into nothing

Scott takes her hand, though it brings him little warmth, cold from her trek here. “Alright.” He swallows the bitter grief in his throat before it can seep into his words. “We can try.”

He leads Katherine around Rivendell, taking some pride in the way she oohs over the decor. If there’s one thing he can do right, it’s building. While some elven rulers might see it as below themselves to help build houses for their citizens, Scott finds building soothing. It’s one of the few skills he picked up during his time away that people really appreciate; no one wants to live in a shitty house.

As they walk, she also tells Scott about the demon, Xornoth. “The demon’s already visited a lot of people, I think. Gem and Shubble for sure, and Fwhip and Sausage. That’s not even mentioning the corruption that’s been spreading.”

If Scott said that the name Xornoth didn’t make him flinch, he would be lying to himself. It’s not your sibling , he tells himself. It’s just a coincidence .

It’s through the virtue of years of lying that his voice comes out steady. “There’s corruption in Rivendell too. Likely Xornoth’s work. And given that Jimmy still has Vilya-” his heart doesn’t ache when he says Jimmy’s name, it doesn’t- “well, I haven’t been able to do much.”

“Vilya?” Katherine asks.

“A ring of power. My inheritance from the Noldor.”

“Why does Jimmy have it?”

He doesn’t answer. He won’t- can’t talk about Jimmy, not without remembering how he looked with an arrow through his throat, bright smile gone and face frozen in fear. How does he explain how much Jimmy meant to him? How much he’s now giving up, knowing he’ll have to lose it one way or another?

Katherine drops the topic, seemingly sensing that she’s stumbled on something sensitive. When she has to go home, she leaves with a friendly goodbye and a promise to visit, and Scott believes neither. Who would put the effort into visiting him? He’s not a good friend, he’s not a good king, and god knows he’s not a good husband. In fact, he’s actively avoiding his husband. He may have kept the pufferfish Jimmy gave him, but that doesn’t mean anything. He can’t fall in love with Jimmy again. Loving Jimmy will kill him. (Scott ignores the small voice at the back of his head that whispers that he’s still in love with Jimmy and it’s already killing him just as he always knew it would.)

To his surprise, Katherine does come back next week, and the week after that. He’s ashamed to admit it, but there’s some part of him that’s pathetically grateful when she shows up at his doorstep. It’s a chance to not be alone . Much as he dreads the day when she finally gives up on him, it’s nice that someone cares enough to try and save him from himself.

The third week, Katherine doesn’t show up. Instead, the footsteps on the stairs are familiar in a way that makes Scott’s heart twist painfully.

He takes a deep breath. “Hello, Jimmy.”

“How’d you know it was me?” Jimmy asks. Scott can tell he’s startled by the way his voice goes up, almost frightened.

Scott steels himself, taking a deep breath before rolling over to face his ex-husband. “Do you think I could ever forget the sound of your footsteps?” He forces himself to not get distracted staring at Jimmy, instead going on before Jimmy can open his mouth. “What are you doing here?”

“Katherine asked me to visit, I’m not sure why, but...here I am. Say, why is she visiting every week?” Jimmy’s so curious. So naive, as always.

Scott laughs, bitter. “Katherine thinks she can save me.”

“Save you from what?”

Scott hears the concern in Jimmy’s words, and he can’t bring himself to break the news. It’s not as if it matters. It’s not as if Jimmy would care; he came here because of Katherine. Maybe he cared at the start of Empires, but Scott’s been nothing but rude to him since. There’s no reason for him to care. (He cares. Scott’s lying, like always. Jimmy cares and Scott knows it.)

“Save you from what?” Jimmy asks again, more insistently.

He refuses to say it. He needs Jimmy out, out of his room and out of his life before he does something he’ll regret. “You should go.” To prove his point, he tries to stand, finding himself too dizzy to quite pull it off. Jimmy rushes to catch him, and Scott hates himself just a little for how that still gives him a warm feeling.

“Scott, what is going on?”

He brushes Jimmy off, letting go of his arm and hurrying for the stairs. He can’t let Jimmy work his way into his heart again; Scott won’t be strong enough to let him go this time.

“Scott, seriously! Answer me, are you okay? What’s happening?” Jimmy sounds almost angry, but Scott can hear the distress under it and that’s what breaks him.

“I’m fading, alright?” His voice nearly breaks at the concern on Jimmy’s face when he whirls to face him. “I’m dying, now leave me alone!”

Jimmy sputters, seemingly caught off guard. “You- what- but elves don’t die, right?”

“We do. From poison, from swords-” Scott thinks back to third life- “from arrows through the throat, from grief.” The words come out more raw than he intends, leaving him scrambling to recover his composure. He takes a deep breath in and out, forcing his voice to steady again. “Come on. If you’re not going to leave, I might as well show you around.”

“You can’t just drop something like that on a man, you know!” Jimmy calls after him, although Scott can hear his footsteps following as well.

“You did ask, to be fair.” Scott replies. His voice is calm. He’s fine.

“I guess so, but- but still, dude.”

Scott pushes open the side door, holding it for Jimmy. “Here.”

Jimmy nods and slips through the door. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

Scott starts towards the bridges, intending to show Jimmy the enchanting tower and then the door. He doesn’t care about how fast he’s walking, Jimmy can keep up. He’s taller than Scott and probably has better balance at the moment too. Scott’s struggling not to fall, honestly, but his pride won’t let him go slower.

Jimmy breaks the awkward silence with the question Scott least wants to hear. “So, uh..are we going to talk about 3rd life?”

“No,” Scott says firmly.

“Why not? We need to talk about it some time-”

“I said no .” He can’t talk about it.

“It’s literally killing you to not talk about it!”

The words strike right at the raw wound of Jimmy’s death, and Scott freezes. Inhales. Exhales. Tries to keep calm.

“Tell me I’m wrong, Scott!” Jimmy cries. He sounds so upset, Scott’s heart aches. “I dare you, tell me I’m wrong! Tell me you never cared about me, tell me you didn’t bother to bury me, tell me it didn’t hurt even a little when I died! Tell me I was just stupid little Jimmy, a toy for an elf who’d live far beyond my lifespan! Tell me whatever, just tell me the truth! ”

Scott takes a deep breath. “Fine. You want to know what happened after you died?” He can’t think straight through the rage clouding his head, the desperate need to prove that Jimmy’s wrong , that Scott loved him so much it’s killing him. “You want to hear about me screaming until my throat went raw? You want to know that I kissed your face and sobbed and begged you to wake up, over and over until I couldn’t speak at all? You want to live with the knowledge that Grian had to physically pull me away from your body? Is that what you want to hear, Jimmy? ” His voice damn near breaks on his husband’s name, and Scott thanks the gods he stopped believing in a long time ago that it doesn’t.

“No,” Jimmy says. His voice is soft, gentle, almost as if Scott is a wounded animal that needs a delicate touch. “That’s not what I want to hear, not at all. I’d rather you be happy than love me.”

The words punch the air from Scott’s lungs, raw and soft and real. Scott is an excellent liar. Jimmy isn’t. Scott knows that Jimmy is telling the truth. What he doesn’t know is how to handle that level of devotion. He wonders again how Jimmy- sweet, genuine Jimmy who wears his heart on his sleeve and is hopelessly devoted to an elf who can’t be fully his- chose Scott of all people. Scott, who’s as bitter as Jimmy is sweet, who’s sarcastic and snarky and hasn’t been good enough for just about anything in his life. He certainly wasn’t good enough to save Jimmy, Scott thinks bitterly.

He shakes off the thought. “I buried you on the hill above our houses. I planted a poppy over your grave.”

“Oh.”

“Grian came over the next day. I didn’t want to see anyone who wasn’t you, but I let him in because I had to. He helped me do the straps on my armor and asked me if he could do anything else to make things easier. I told him to bury me next to you.”

“Did he?”

Scott almost laughs at the innocent question. “How would I know? Grian was honorable enough, though, loyal to his allies. I like to think he did.”

“He was a good guy,” Jimmy agrees. “A little bit bloodthirsty, I guess, but good. I don’t suppose he survived any better than the rest of us, though maybe being bloodthirsty helped.”

“Maybe.”

“Can I- can I ask you why you hate me so much now?” Jimmy’s tone is uncertain, hesitant and it hurts . “I mean, if you mourned me in third life and all.”

Scott looks away from his earnest gaze, but he can’t stop the truth slipping out. “I don’t hate you.”

“You don’t?” Jimmy asks, seemingly bewildered. “But you burned the pufferfish-”

“I didn’t. I kept it.” Scott doesn’t want to think about this, wants to say it even less. “I never hated you. I don’t think I’m capable of it.”

“Then why do you keep avoiding me?”

“I’ve been kind of busy dying,” Scott says wryly, unable to resist a bit of morbid humor at his own expense.

“Scott! That’s not funny!”

“It was a little funny.”

“No!”

Jimmy sounds genuinely distressed, and Scott drops the wry smile. “Jimmy, I’m an elf. I won’t live far beyond you, but only because I’ll fade without you.” It’s a simple statement. The truth, as much as he can give.

“So your solution is to isolate yourself and fade now?” Jimmy’s outrage is justifiable, but Scott just shrugs.

“It does sound stupid when you put it like that, doesn’t it?” It really does. “But I lost you once, and I don’t think I could bear it again.”

A hand lands on Scott’s arm, and he turns, startled. Jimmy doesn’t give him time to react, throwing his arms around Scott and pulling him close. Scott almost lets out a very undignified squeak at the sudden contact, though he slowly relaxes into Jimmy’s hold.

He should pull away. He shouldn’t give Jimmy false hope like this. But Jimmy is so warm , and Scott is so unbearably cold. Every fiber of his being is screaming that this is what’s right; screw Rivendell and obligations and too-heavy crowns, Jimmy is home to him. He’s warm for the first time in months, and the most heartbreaking part is that it can’t last. He can’t do this again.

He pulls away, ignoring the painful hope on Jimmy’s face. “I’m sorry, Jimmy.” For the first time all conversation, his voice well and truly wobbles. “I can’t. Not again.”

“But-”

Scott shakes his head. “Losing you will destroy me. We dared to love, and now all we can do now is lessen the pain when it all comes crashing down.” The words are like glass in his throat, but he forces them out anyways. They have to be said.

Jimmy’s silent, and it hurts more than if Jimmy had yelled at him.

“Goodbye, Jimmy,” Scott manages, turning away before Jimmy can see the way his face twists in pain. He makes his retreat as quickly as possible, stumbling and nearly taking a tumble just before he reaches the door. Unlike before, there’s no helpful ex-husband there to catch him, to make sure he’s alright and ask a million questions until Scott’s forced to admit that he’s not okay and hasn’t been in a long time.

He fumbles with the latch, hands shaking and vision blurring. Finally, it clicks, and Scott stumbles inside and slams the door shut before sliding to the ground. He won’t cry. He won’t . He doesn’t love Jimmy, he can’t love Jimmy anymore. Jimmy was never meant to be his. They might have carved out a few precious moments, stolen them from the universe and giggled like kids with their hands in the cookie jar as they kissed amongst the flowers, but those brief moments were all they were ever going to be allowed. It was always going to end this way, Scott tells himself. There’s no use crying over a mortal who will be dead in the blink of an eye to an elf. What would his parents say? That this was typical of him, probably. Typical Scott, always wanting what he would never be able to have. Typical, predictable Scott, loving a mortal who shouldn’t be worth anything to him.

He’s crying. There are tears spotting his cyan robes, splashing onto the wood floors he worked so hard on. Scott rubs at his eyes furiously, but that only makes it worse, sobs shuddering through him and leaving him hollow and aching. He’s so cold . The ache in his chest has returned tenfold, stealing away his breath, and he curls further into himself, struggling for air.

He’s going to die. He is going to die , alone on the floor of his house because he fell for someone he couldn’t have. For all that he’s spent every minute since Jimmy’s death in 3rd life wishing for some way out of this cruel world, he’s terrified now that it seems inevitable. He’s scared in a way he hasn’t been in forever, breath coming quick and shallow. He's scared, and he is so, so tired of this ache that haunts him, the chill that he can never get rid of.

“Jimmy,” Scott whispers. There’s no way for the human to hear him, but the name brings him some comfort. “ Jimmy .” He wants his husband. He wants someone to hug him. He doesn’t want to fade away freezing and alone, no one there to hold his hand or reassure him that the pain will be over soon. Internally, he begs for someone, anyone who cares to come looking. To find him, even if they’re too late to save him. Someone. Anyone. Please.

No one comes, and Scott lays on his floor until his breathing steadies out again. His head spins when he forces himself to his feet, and he has to lean against the wall for a few moments. There’s no time for dramatics, he tells himself sternly. He has a kingdom to rule. He cannot afford to break over a mortal he never should have fallen for in the first place. He doesn’t love Jimmy anymore, he can’t .

(He’s lying. But Scott has always been an excellent liar, even when it’s to himself.)

#scott smajor #jimmy solidarity #empires smp #i maintag my fic because i dont fear god or scott smajor #my writing

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robbyrobinson · 3 years

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VILLAIN REVIEW: KING ANDRIAS (AMPHIBIA)

Voiced by: Keith David

First Appearance: Marcy at the Gates

Admittedly, Amphibia didn't instantly hook me in ways that Gravity Falls or the Owl House had. The first season was okay what with the worldbuilding and stuff. But Season 2 definitely improved especially because of this guy.

BIOGRAPHY

Thousands of years ago, he was the ruler of Newtopia who was in charge of the Calamity Box, an interdimensional device that could allow people to travel to other worlds. From there, he claimed that his ancestors were peaceful explorers who used the box to communicate. One day, the box was stolen with him believing his two former friends betrayed him. From there, Newtopia lost a bit of its greatness....

At least until the day Anne Boonchuy, Marcy Wu, and Sasha Waybright inadvertently end up in Amphibia after Anne is peer pressured into stealing the box from an antique store. From there, in his own words, the game could finally begin.

PERSONALITY

Keith David does a brilliant job portraying the king of Amphibia. At first glance, Andrias comes off as being a jovial, childish monarch who comes across as a "kewl grandpa", not spelled "cool," but "K-E-W-L." He comes off as delighted with helping Anne and the girls find a way back home...maybe a bit too eager. Honestly, the first time that I have seen him, I already mentally worked it out that he would be a bad guy because a lot of those kings in cartoons turn out as such. Not to say that it really takes away from the overall performance, it is just kind of obvious.

Yet, there are several subtle hints of his true nature just at the surface such as when he and Marcy conduct research on the Calamity Box and find a secret passageway that he "did not know about." If you notice, he has a smug smile across his face before joining Marcy in the passage.

But it's once his true colors are exposed where he truly shines. To make it short and simple, Andrias is evil. Purely and simply evil. So far, he has all the cards as likely becoming one of the most evil of the Disney animated television shows, possibly competing with the heavier hitters like Lunaris, Bulba, or Bill freaking Cipher.

He is ruthless: he wants to rule over all worlds with an iron fist and will absolutely NOT let anything come in between him and his schemes. He can kill a sapient robot without batting an eye and then the next moment smoothly try to batter a baby frog with his fist. If you have a best friend, he'd think nothing of dangling them over a window and threaten to drop them if his demands are not met. And then do so anyway because he is a dick.

Make no mistakes: Andrias passes the criteria for a sociopath with glowing colors. He is manipulative. He puts on the superficial charm of a grandfather-like figure while secretly stringing people along and manipulating them like chess pieces. What he does to Marcy is the dickish cherry on top of the douchebag sundae. He exploits a 13-year-old's desperation of wanting to stay with her two best friends and pretends to empathize with her even offering her a deal that he knew was like sweet nectar to her: when he invades other worlds, she and her friends will travel the worlds together having several amazing adventures.

He lacks empathy or emotional attachments. Already you have some people going off the trailer for season 3 saying that Andrias definitely was fond of Marcy because she was shown in a rejuvenation machine. Sure, I can totally see where people are coming from. I mean, it's not like it was his own fault for putting her there to begin with. That's a crazy thought. In all seriousness, he only sees Marcy as a pawn in his schemes and his only response to stabbing her is an irritated "Now look what you made me do." Way to blame the victim for your own acts, Andrias.

He had two friends thousands of years ago that even now it is apparent he holds resentment towards them for "betraying" him. Him deciding to drop Sprig was him basically wanting Anne to go through the same pain he felt when he was "wronged." But that does nothing to EXPLAIN why he is such a sociopathic megalomaniac. If anything, how the episode plays it off is that his "friends" betrayed him because he was a psychotic salamander with delusions of grandeur. Given how much of a bully he was once he was revealed to be evil, I am really wondering if that could have also played into it. But it looks like the show is doing this to make Andrias more of a foil for Anne and her two friends.

And, currently, he has absolutely no remorse for any of his actions. He giddily reveals Marcy's secret that she was the one who deliberately stranded herself and her friends in Amphibia in the first place even when he knew that she told him that in confidence. He then mockingly apologizes for "spilling the tea."

And what is a sociopath if not egotistical? Andrias believes that he alone should rule over not just Amphibia, but the Earth, and other worlds. He doesn't care whether or not people will bow to his rule as the tapestry itself shows. He is standing over a pile of bones making it very explicit what his invasions will result in should Anne and her team fail to stop him.

But I will not deny that he is a scarily competent threat who doesn't mess around.

ABILITIES

He has lived for 1,000+ years. It is not confirmed if it has to do with the particular breed of salamander he is, or if his longevity comes in part due to his 13-eyed master whom he is helping accomplish this "revenge" by subverting a prophecy having to do with the three human girls.

Besides his manipulation and charisma, Andrias is a competent fighter. Despite being colossal and a bit on the chunky side, he is surprisingly agile and wields a flaming sword. He is also insanely stout. Even when Anne goes Super Saiyan mode on his ass, he could still hold his ground with the use of his shield.

He also has knowledge over machinery and can command his robo-frog army with ease.

FINAL SCORE

Biography: 6

Personality:

Abilities: 7

Overall: 7/10

#amphibia #andrias #king andrias #review #true colors #villains #disney villains #sociopath #disney channel #disney

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sapphire-innit · 3 years

Text

DRISTAAAAA TIMEEE

VOD: TommyInnit Speaks To Dream’s Sister AGAIN

(rp): Drista!! I love this chaotic child and am looking forward to seeing the children bully each other lmao. I especially love the mythos around Creative mode, and that the most benevolent god on the Dream SMP is just as likely to ban you as hand you a shulker box lol.

I do wonder how in character cc!Tommy is going to be able to stay during this stream: on one hand he’s a master at staying in character even during lh moments, and on the other Exile arc is some Dark Shit and Dristas like what, 14?? Overall I expect this to be one of the lighter streams, with a smattering of moments where we remember that, oh right, Tommy’s pretty actively suicidal at this point and he sees this as one of his last hurrahs.

Speaking of our boy Tommy: it's very clear we are getting closer and closer to the infamous pillar. He switches rapidly between Fight and Fawn reflexes and has mostly internalized Dream’s treatment and conditions at this point. The one stand out moment being him calling out Dream killing Mexican Dream last stream, and pointing out he was changing his story even when Dream tried to lie and say he died of “a drug overdose [...] or natural causes”. I’m curious if Tommy is going to bring it up again, and even more curious if he eventually believes Dream about it; something to watch out for, for sure. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this moment of rebellion happened right after he had someone both stand up for him and spend time with him that wasn’t actively hostile or going to end (supposedly, at least by intention)

Hey we didn’t start off drowning for once!! cc!Tommy was also singing, though that could have been mostly out of character as well. Still, remarkably in a better mood, he even mentions having an appetite! You love to see it, and it's clearly because he’s looking forward to Drista’s visit

He’s building a log tower and on one hand, Tommy building Towers is a natural state of being, and on the other…. I know the pillar is coming and I am scared

A mention of the Anti-Dream hole… I still worry about when exactly and how Dream is going to find it. Still, I’m glad it exists, both for Tommy having a space for things important to him, as well as what it represents about his mental state re:not giving over completely to Dream

DRISTA!!!! LOL she was already online we didn't even see her join LOL. CHAOS GREMLIN she just flew over in creative mode and started wrecking shit, as is her right lmaoooo

“You massive jer--, (quieter) whats a nicer way…, YOU MASSIVE DICKHEAD” oh, Tommy..

I like how he tries to punch her even when shes CLEARLY IN CREATIVE MODE ADSADASD

The violence inherent in fourteen year olds,,,, adsfsadfsdfds

I hate this conversation why is this the conversation asdffdsfsd TEENAGERS

DREAM YOUR NOT EVEN A TEENAGER WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING THE SAME LOGIC

Well SHE can destroy the obsidian asdfsdfds She just Spleefs

“What would Dream do” Probably worse lets be honest

Is he actually gonna go back to L’manburg?? I don’t believe it but I also want :(

Again with the stabbing

AND DOWN HE GOEEEESSSS

“I have the fork, but I'm also killing you” afsafsdfdsf Tommy why are you wearing your good shit omg

Lol cc!Dream trying to defend his character for mocking Tommy’s accent adsfsdfds “I would NEVER” in the totally not believable tone lmaoooo

DID SHE REALLY GO AT HIM WITH A FORK I'M FUCKING DYING DSAFDADSFDS

“I will take it from you and I’ll kill him”... I have so many thoughts about how this works in lore. Is Drista possessing Dream? He can kick her out clearly, but she still has God Powers…

Lol and now SHES mocking his accent lmaoooo (... is it bad she sounded pretty close to me? lol)

Adsfdsfswd casual chaos Drista just broke the Nether Portal

Asking Drista to stop destroying things is a big ask to be honest lmaoo. Also she seems to be at least somewhat informed that ‘Dream is not supposed to be nice to Tommy’ or at least seemed hesitant to do /weather clear

GOD THE LAVA BUCKETS AND THE POTION OF HARMING adsfsdfsdf

“Tommy [beheaded him] actually… and killed Mexican Dream” Dream you motherfucker

“How to Sex 3” THE PANIK!!!!!! From Both cc!Dream and Tommy!!! This server is Not Child Friendly lol (Doesn’t…. That not even include sex things…. afasfsd)

Honestly I can’t stop smiling this is so wholesome somehow even with all the cursing and violence

Pigstep IS a bop, Tommy is right

“Just let him, just let him this one time” :(

“Tommy I still have the Fork” Drista totally willing to stab her brother to visit L’manburg

HE TOOK THE FORK ASDASDAS

Yes, closing your eyes will totally protect you from Forks lol

“I don’t need school, I dropped out” Is this Lore Crumbs, is this Lore

HEYYYY ITS THE BEDROCK, the one piece of bedrock he has lol, I think he still has that in current day right?

Drista is writing her name in BEDROCK adsfsdfds “I’m not going to be able to get rid of that actually” “That's the Point”

LOL SHe also recognized the burrito as from Mos lmaooo

Somehow “I really want to go to the other place.. I don’t know why he won’t let you” hit hard… it was def ooc, and she doesn’t have the full context, but still… its just someone else wanting and asking for Tommy to be able see L’manburg…

Afsdfsd the Small Gasp when she spleefs herself omgg

HES THERE!!! HES THERE!!!!!! L’MANBURG!!!!!!

Punz!!! WHY!!!! Were you there bc Drista might let Tommy through, was this a safeguard for the LORE. Also he’s currently working for Dream directly right, as a merc?

Drista trying to save Tommy!!!! Punz why are you winning a fight with someone in creative adfsadfsd He’s too good lol

They have negotiated a visit… I’m so emotional I wasn’t expecting this…. No one told me we got a real L’manburg visit !

BIG Q SHES FOURTEEN!!! Omg they didn’t tell him it was Drista. BIG Q!!! BIG Q DON’T SELL HER DRUGS

“He was Naked” good for you Drista, good for you. There’s something so hilarious about Drista just stabbing Quackity over and over again cause she’s uncomfortable lol (as is her right)

LOL THE FINAL KILL WITH MAGIC WHEN HE’S ALREADY DROWNING IM

Wha --- what video was it????? What is this Tommy picture on the Technoganda???

….”are you sure I’m allowed here” Dream’s conditioning is strong :(

“At many minute I could get mugged” To be Fair Tommy, that was true before

Did Tommy just suggest spawning in a Wither asdfsdfds

DRISTA DOG ARMY!!!! Aww and Tommy has one too~

THE BENCH!! THE HOUSE!!! Aaaaaaaaa He’s sitting on the bench nature is HEALING

AAAAAAAA A BLAZE!!!! Pfffft

…. Who destroyed the front of Tommys house?

,,,,Drista what are you doing with that soULSAND

“OK we'll turn on him” adsfsdfsd

OH HEY TECHNO!!! Lol “Oh god he meant me” fucking mood big man

……. Tubbo hallucination……… fuck

LOL HE COMBAT LOGGED “YOU CALL THAT COMBAT” I'M

To be fair, logging against a /kill is probably the only way to get away lmao

…...F

“Getting thrown off a cliff is literally how Theseus died!!” lol its also hilarious to me that Tommy def does not remember being called that. Personally I don't think it fits him super well anyway, but I do like it as something Techno calls Tommy, that shows how much he misjudges Tommy's character and intentions. No heroes here, just a kid trying to do good by their friends and what they care about

Techno actually looking up how to kill someone in creative mode

…. :( I just want my actual clingyduo content this is meeeeannn

OH HEY TECHNO …. You fucker he would and it would be HILARIOUS (get mad if Drista opped Techno that is lol)

….

IS THIS WHY THEY’RE BEDROCK BROS????? BECAUSE THEY BOTH HAVE DRISTA BEDROCK??????????????????????????

HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS ???

LOL TRUE DUO SUPREMACY TUBBO’S GOT TECHNO'S BEDROCK

Oh F Techno got him with the Obliterator lmaoooo

“I have 114 levels PLEASE” asdfdasfsdf

LOL Tubbo with the TNT there's our nuke boy, I'll take my crumbs where I can get them

THE SHULKER HOLY SHIT

“Don't let someone get it!!”” ADSFDSAFSDFDS they all tuRN CC REAL QUICK WHEN THE SHULKER BOXES COME OUT

Awesamdudes like: MORE PLEASE AFDASFDSF

Techno immediately snitching about Elytra and dRISTA GETTING THE ACHIEVEMENT

EVERYONE SNITCHING IN CHAT I'M!!!! DREAMS REACTION ASDFSDFDSF

Drista being the chaotic giver of illegal gifts is so fucking good I'M THRIVING

THE RUN ON PUNZ !!!! omg

Also can we just take a minute to appreciate Tommy being allowed around people <3 <3 This is so wholesome and good and chaotic as all hell

“I thought I was Tom Cruz for like a whole week” ...TOMMY??

LOL SHE BANNED TECHNO OMG

Dristas on a banning Rampage afsdfsdf

BAN GOGGY OMGGG

Omg shes actually making a wITHER DASDASDFAS

Oh no poor Tubbo I didn’t know he was liVE

319k viewers jeezus

Awwwww Techno hyping up Wilbur's song :) that's so sweet actually

…………….Fuck you Dream :( saw the chance to Twist the Knife in c! And TOOK IT

LOL THE FUCKING FORK IS THE BEST BIT LOLLLL

Lol ironically the Bedrock bros song is the oNE COPYRIGHTED ONE, god why did Minecraft ever copyright Pigstep what a shit move honestlyyy

Pigstep fucking goING TO TECHNO LOLLLLLL “this is the most powerful item on the server since it DMCA’s people”

LOL PUNZ TRYING TO STEAL ANOTHER SHULKER

Poor Sam he actually has to BUILD give this man a SHULKER

Lol Everyone wants a shulker so much

….aww he tried to toss the pigstep disc lmaooo DRISTAS LITERALLY HOLDING IT Scaaaaaammmmed

Drista “I NEED IT ON HAND” So committed to violence !!!

The fucking creepers on the way out omg fuckign PERFECT

LOL TOMMY WASN’T READY FOR THE TURN AROUND ON CURSING LMAO You can tell he's always been the youngest who people aren't sure how much they can curse around lmao He's so soft honestly he talks such a big game and then CRUMBLES when called on it lol

Asfdsfs she fell through the same hole again afsdfsdfsd

Drista has been introduced to a Weapon and she’s gotten ATTACHED lmaooo

Wait HOLD THE PHONE Dream has multiple sisters??? Lol

“Yeah I like Shit” Dream: “whAT???”

Bye Drista it’s been nice!!! I hope she had a good time, she seems like a good kid (who is definitely not a content creator lol though she keeps up admirably)

Drista’s one of the few people who can make Tommy speechless lmaooo he looks actually shocked lol

Also first mention of GhostInnit…. cc!Tommy…..

Keep preparing…. Was his original plan to rush Dream even if (maybe especially if…) he died? Fuck man

Also holy shit was this stream right before Quackitys? ? amazing

This was honestly such a BLAST and a really good time, and I can see why its viewed as one of the few breaks we get during Exile :) I feel so refreshed and it was so so nice to have Tommy hanging out in L’manburg having fun with his friends (even if Tubbo was stuck being a Hallucination and Also Banned lol) No deeper insight, I just haven’t stopped smiling for an hour and a half <3

#dream smp liveblog #dsmp exile arc #tommyinnit #drista #technoblade #dreamwastaken #the shulker man the SHULKER #Ive been hearing about that for AGES glad to see the actual footage

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fitzs-trained-monkey · 3 years

Text

Chapter Thirty-Six: How I Did It - By Jack The Ripper

Rated PG-13: For dark themes and language

Masterlist

~We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water? The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water?

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness~

"He's here."

Crossing the Event-Horizon

That's what that's called. I've always thought that's the most beautiful way of putting it. The words have a certain ring to them.

Crossing the Event-Horizon

It means crossing the point of no return. That itself - the point of no return - could mean a lot of things. It could mean the beginning. It could mean the end. It could mean the infinite. It could mean life. It could mean death. It could mean war, peace, happiness, sadness, or anything in between.

But it means one thing for sure.

Crossing the Event-Horizon means there's no going back.

If I had to identify a beginning to the end of my story, then I think that little red dot on the map of time is where I'd stick my proverbial pin. That one little sentence, those two little words.

Yes, it was that moment, I think.

That was when it all started to go wrong.

"Felix is here," I said quietly, "He's outside."

I didn't know what I was going to do to get my revenge from that point. All I knew was, in order to kill Felix, I would need to get to him. And that meant getting away from Jack. Getting away from the son of the devil is something certainly easier said than done.

I would have to do it in a manner which would compel him and the Winchesters to come 'save me'. Of course, I could just knock Jack out and ditch him, but then I would have no back-up if things with Felix went sour. Now, if there was one thing I had learned in the five years leading up to my presence in that lighthouse, it was redundancy. It never hurts to have a safety net. Mine just happened to be a Nephilim.

"You remembered to lock the door, right?" Jack joked. I huffed a laugh. "We're safe in here. Don't worry, Marty. I'll protect you."

Isaac shook his head. "Felix has hostages. Two of 'em." He informed me.

"It's not me I'm worried about," I said to Jack, "This is a hostage situation."

The Nephilim's expression darkened and Isaac rolled his eyes.

"Personally, I say we go on the offensive. I mean, ya boyfriend here has more than enough juice to disintegrate seven dudes, right? Just waltz out there like we own the place, boom, clap, poof, TA-DA!"

"Ya know, that's actually not that bad of a plan," I said, nodding. I relayed the message to Jack who nodded.

"I could do it." He seemed confident.

"Felix brought six helpers. Have you ever dusted that many guys before?" I asked.

"I have, yes. Many more, in fact."

Well, that was... thoroughly disturbing. He seemed so calm about it. As if anyone who stood against him was nothing more than an obstacle. That could be me one day. That could be me tomorrow.

"Alright then, lead the way," I said, smirking.

Is it bad that I hoped something would happen to Jack? Nothing deadly, of course. Just something that would stop him from using his powers to take my revenge for me. Felix was mine. I needed to be the one to kill him. If Jack did it then what had been the point of it all? So, was it bad of me to hope that the quickest, cleanest solution wouldn't be the one that played out?

Was that wrong?

Did that make me evil?

Did I care if it did?

"Everything's going to be fine, Marty. You'll see." And Jack smiled at me softly and I wondered how long that would last.

I found myself standing beside him at the door to the lighthouse. My blood was boiling for a fight because this was it. Felix was on the other side of that door and in a few hours, I would be free, one way or another. Jack turned the handle.

Across the Event-Horizon.

A vampire, a ghost, and a Nephilim stepped out into the muggy night air. It sounds like the beginning of a bad joke, but it was more the beginning of a new era, at least for me. I stayed mostly hidden beside Jack, maintaining my air of powerlessness. Isaac stepped into place at the Nephilim's other side to match. I could feel the heat of Felix's presence bleeding through the space between us. He carried with him the foul stench of burning tar and just his scent made me want to wrinkle my nose.

He stood about ten feet away from Isaac, Jack, and me, flanked by six other vampires. There was no army, not that I had expected there to be - that wasn't how Felix worked. He didn't need an army, he'd brought two hostages. Two humans knelt on the ground in front of each of Felix's lackeys, poised to die.

Felix's lips stretched into something that approximated a smile but his little ruse was transparent. I could see the hate simmering in his eyes.

"This little game of ours has been fun but a score still stands to be settled and its resolution, I do believe, is long overdue. There is no place left for you to run, child. Are you finally ready to face judgment for your crimes, Martina?" He said. A smile spread across my face to match his.

"Are you?" I challenged, leaving all human emotion out of my voice. I had been so afraid of him before, but that fear was in the past. I had come to witness true power, I had seen it up close and Felix Ashton Monroe was nothing in comparison. I wasn't afraid of him anymore.

"I suppose you'll just have to find that out," He said. "Now, I've just had a rather unsavory chat with one Samuel Winchester. Barbarians those boys are - him and his brother. I do so hope you'll remember the manners I taught you and come along like a civilized being."

"Ready when you are," Isaac reported. His Darth Vader figure was tucked safely in my boot and I counted the fact that Felix didn't know about him as one of the few advantages I had. Both Isaac and I knew that in order to keep that advantage my brother would have to suffer through being dragged behind a car via his attachment to the figure to prevent Felix from noticing his presence. We had decided a long time ago that I wouldn't face Felix alone. Isaac had protested against us facing him at all.

It was ironic, really. He was the ghost, yet out of the two of us, I was the vengeful one. See, Isaac had never sought revenge against Felix. The only person Isaac wanted vengeance against was himself. He sought punishment for his failure to keep me safe, to keep any of us safe. I suppose he got his wish. Ever since that night, Isaac remained trapped on earth with what was less of a mission and more of a duty. To keep me alive. If one looked at it properly, that was another advantage. Isaac had been formidable when he was alive, but as a vengeful spirit and with a threat on my life to power him up, Isaac was alarmingly deadly.

I didn't need to send him a discreet nod to acknowledge his words. The two of us had been preparing for this moment for five years. We knew our roles. We knew what we had to do.

"Marty isn't going anywhere with you," Jack cut in, his voice firm.

"You're Jack Kline I presume," Felix said in his usual drawling tone. His voice too reminded me of tar with the way it oozed lazily around his words. Everything about him was so clean and sharp yet somehow it was all horrifically revolting.

"I am, yes." Jack nodded. He was trying to sound confident and authoritative, mimicking Sam or Dean or Castiel. But he wasn't like them, it wasn't in his nature. Jack was too soft. Felix regarded him with a smirk, studying the boy in a calculating manner as if Jack were merely a rare antiquity he was appraising in an effort to determine its value.

"The boy born to rule..." He hummed, drawing out the words almost reverently. "Yer smaller than the rumors describe ye to be."

"So are you," Jack replied, standing up straighter and lifting his chin confidently.

"Oh, I'm afraid not." That slime ball cracked a smile. "I'm much too careful to allow for rumors of my physical appearance to drift beyond my reach."

"Really?" Jack challenged. "Because it seems like Martina found us. She told us everything about you."

Felix just laughed like he was talking to something as insignificant as a flea.

"Do ye never listen, young one? I said I don't allow rumors to drift beyond my reach. Seeing as Martina is standing directly ahead of me, I'd say she is well within my grasp. That which is mine does not escape me, laddie. She knows that better than anyone," Felix said.

"If you're so careful, then why come here yourself?" Jack asked, struggling to remain impassive. He didn't really have a poker face.

"Why, because unlike an amateur I actually quite enjoy getting my hands dirty every now and again. Especially with a vendetta this personal. Isn't that right, Martina?" Felix taunted. "Will you be coming willingly or not?"

"I said you can't have her," The half-angel forcefully growled. Jack pushed me behind him, shielding me from my creator's gaze.

"Is that so? I was unaware you had a choice in the matter," Felix accosted, seemingly amused. "Were your circumstances not clearly implicit in the situation? No? Very well! If you insist against using so much as a modicum of intelligence, I suppose I'll have to explain this situation to you. See, these dirty, pathetic excuses for intelligent life forms you see trembling before you are called humans, dear boy. I hear you're quite fond of them, and today they are playing the role which we in the criminal world usually refer to as the hostage. Now, their miserable little lives are in your hands, Jack. I am a man of my word thus I will gladly release them, alive and well, upon the prompt return of my property. However, I will not hesitate to rip them both to shreds right in front of you if I don't get my way. Do you understand that , boy?"

Jack didn't respond. He appeared torn between protecting me and saving the lives of the hostages.

"Good," Felix droned, "Now, are you ready to leave, Martina dear?"

" You don't get to speak to her ," Jack snarled. His teeth snapped together with an audible click as he threw his arm out in front of me, not quite ready to give up. Felix rolled his eyes.

"Must we really do this the hard way?" He asked, boredom evident in his tone.

"Yes."

Felix tilted his head and his gaze flicked to me. I could see a hint of amusement in his expression.

"Tell me, lassie. Have you kissed him yet?" He chuckled. Then, abruptly, his expression darkened. "Or is he just that stupid? "

"Who says I did anything?" I replied evenly. Felix huffed, rolling his eyes.

"So you have?" He turned his attention to Jack who just seemed confused. "Did you enjoy it, me boy? If you'll recall, I did wish you a very exciting first, did I not?"

"Marty, what's he talking about?" Jack asked, doubt wavering in his voice. I didn't answer him. Felix was taking a chisel to the wall I'd built in that boy's head. Not causing enough damage to send it crumbling, but planting enough doubt for it to hurt even worse when it did.

"Ah, my devious little Martina," Felix sighed, shaking his head dramatically. "You're as predictable as you are appallingly cruel."

"Guess I learned from the best," I hissed, glaring at him.

"Does that mean you'll be sensible?" He asked, raising a brow.

"You're not taking her!" My angel boy yelled. "She's mine. " A shock ran through my bones as Jack's powers ignited and his metaphysical wings spread out in front of me in a terrifying reminder of what he truly was.

Felix didn't flinch. Instead, he chuckled.

"That's cute," He said, gesturing to Jack's massive wings. Then, he straightened the cuffs of his suit and sighed. From out of his pocket he retrieved a box of matches, pulling one out and striking it. He tossed the match lazily in front of him, the reflection of its tiny flame dancing in his eyes.

The match hit the sand and flickering orange flames erupted from where it landed. The fire spread outward in a ring that encompassed the entire lighthouse, trapping me, Jack, and Isaac inside.

Jack hissed through his teeth as he watched the flames die down. They were low enough to pass easily through, so how were they supposed to contain us?

"In case ye can't tell, that there is holy fire," Felix informed, tucking the matches back in his pocket. "Any angel who finds themselves encircled by holy fire is rendered powerless, and if one tries to step through those flames, one will be instantly vaporized." He looked up again, unimpressed. "Don't get smart with me, boy . I am thousands of years your senior. I'll do with that disgusting whore whatever I damn please."

"No, you won't !"Jack yelled. His wings flared out and a blazing golden light poured from him like molten metal. The air buzzed with a divine power that burned my skin from standing so close. He was like sunlight, and it burned. I cowered away but watched in awe as Jack's veins lit beneath his skin as if gold were pumping through them instead of blood. Because that's what Jack Kline was. He was power. With a sudden ferocity, the flames leaped up, roaring around his body in an effort to keep him trapped inside. But Jack did the impossible and stepped beyond the ring with a cry of effort.

Felix did not cower away as his underlings did; he merely tilted his head with slight interest.

"How intriguing," He mused, folding his hands in front of him. "Tell me, lad. How did you manage that?"

Jack glared at Felix, his chest heaving, for I could tell that act had caused him pain.

"I'm not an angel."

Jack raised his hand, poised to snap the monsters all into dust.

"Oh, I wouldn't do that if I were you," Felix half-heartedly warned.

"Why not?" The Nephilim ground out.

The vampire smiled coolly. "Because these fine specimens here are not my only hostages." Of course, he had more. He was always prepared.

"Where are the others?" Jack demanded, eyes flaring.

"They're safe and sound, I assure ye. Unless, of course, you try to do somethin' stupid, such as kill me. If that's the case, and I do hope it's not, then my people have orders to do some rather unsavory things to a room full of children." Felix raised a brow, daring Jack to make a move against him.

"I can save them," Jack said, confident.

"Please! Ye don't even know where they are!" He scoffed. "Do what ye must, Jack Kline. But I really do fear for the children." Jack gritted his teeth but said nothing. He knew he was beaten. "That's better." Felix turned his attention to me. "Give up this pitiful act of yours, Martina. Come on out. You know this is checkmate."

I stepped away from Jack and stood tall, allowing the thing that had made me to see the steel in my eyes. I passed Jack and planted myself in front of Felix.

"This isn't checkmate, Monroe. This is merely check. I'll be damned before I walk into something with no way out, you know that better than anyone." My voice was calm and cool and I let it chill him. It was my real voice, not that other one I always used to put people at ease. My real voice was the one that makes people do what I want.

The corner of Felix's mouth twitched up. "Oh, yes. I know." He leaned down, his face merely an inch away from mine. "I'm looking forward to it."

"So, where's the car?" I asked, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Right this way, m'dear." He gestured towards the dirt road a ways away and started toward it. I began to follow but Jack's voice made me stop.

"You're a monster," He spat, shaking with rage. His pained expression had morphed into one of hatred and his glowing golden eyes fixed on Felix.

Felix twisted around, mildly amused more than anything.

"Empathy, humanity, and morality make you weak, boy. Alas, weakness is a bitch , isn't it?" He smirked, basking in the pain he caused.

"I SWEAR I WILL KILL YOU!" Jack screamed. His power flared with his anger but there was nothing he could do. The absolute helplessness and hopelessness of his situation finally dawned on him. He never could stand feeling helpless.

"Hold on, I'm confused. Is that not what you do ?" Felix jeered, lifting a brow. Jack froze, his eyes going wide and puppy-like as the vampire's words hit him in the heart. His rage and power dimmed.

"W-What?" Poor thing. His voice sounded so small. He had never been made for this.

"You're the Winchester's attack dog, are ye' not?" Felix clarified. "Playing judge, jury, and executioner for anything you deem a monster."

"You are a monster," Jack scowled, clenching his fists.

"Oh, I know that!" Felix laughed. "But I like to think I've done quite a bit to earn me that title. There are, however, six quite innocent and quite human patients in critical condition at a Manhattan hospital. Six patients, who you put there. Those weren't monsters now, were they?"

Jack's face paled. Sam and Dean had said everyone was fine. Sam and Dean had lied. "H-How did- How did you-"

"That was some stunt you pulled in Times Square, boy," He mused. "Did you really think I wouldn't know about it?"

"Th-that w-was... I-it wasn't... I didn't mean to I-" Jack shook his head in denial. "It was an accident!"

"Why, of course it was!" Felix laughed. "You've not a malicious heart nor the disposition to take an innocent life. Dear boy, you are but a loaded gun for the Winchesters aim at anything they don't like."

Jack shook his head. "T-that's not true! I kill things that are evil because they hurt people." His words sounded hollow like they were something practiced. Like something that had been pounded into him.

"Do ye now? Because as I recall, you killed your own mother and ye' don't even know why. Sad, that." Felix smiled. "You kill because you were bred to; it's your purpose. It's almost cute, the son of the devil thinking he's a hero."

"I am ! I'm a hunter!" Jack insisted.

"You are not a hero," Felix sneered, shaking his head. "You are a murderer, Jack Kline. What else could ya be?" The Scottish man turned on his heel, not caring much to hear what the Nephilim had to say.

"Y-you're wrong. You're wrong about me!" That was all Jack could force out. He tried so hard to keep the tears at bay. I shook my head and turned away from him to follow my creator. "M-Marty?" Jack called out from behind me, his voice laced with desperation and confusion.

I stopped.

In that moment, I finally stripped away the final pieces of the human girl I'd made for him. The girl I'd designed for him to love. Jack would never see her again. That girl was gone now. And good riddance to her; I hoped she'd never come back.

Because she was weak.

And I was not.

Because she was human.

And I was a monster.

Because she was kind.

And I was cruel.

Because she was innocent.

And I was insane.

Because she was honest and grateful.

And I was a deceitful manipulator.

Because she was the blissful mirage.

And I was the horrid reality.

Because she was perfect.

And I never could be.

Because Jack Kline loved that sweet girl.

But that girl wasn't ME.

She never had been.

Of course, I still loved him which only made this harder. But I supposed that in a few hours that would be of no consequence. He wouldn't care. And that fact hurt like a needle to the heart, but pain only brings power to those with nothing left to lose. So, I threw my head back and I laughed as I embraced that pain, just as I did for every other cut and bruise I had ever received. That needle was one in a million and all that pain was what made me real. So, I sighed and turned back to where my angel boy stood, staring at me like some lost puppy.

"I'm sorry, Jack," I said sweetly, "Thanks for getting me this far, I don't think I could have done it without you. Unfortunately, this is something I have to do on my own. This is my last page and nobody can write it for me."

"You can't go," He said, shaking his head. There were tears in his eyes but none in mine. I smiled at him and that was the first he'd seen from me that was real, because, for the first time, Jack was talking to me.

"Why are you worried, Jack?" I was surprised at how smooth and pleasing my own voice sounded, now that I took notice. My real voice was why I was dangerous; when I used it I could make anyone do anything. But there was a reason I had been masking it for so long. It was what had gotten me into this in the first place. "I know you'll come to save me."

"What if I'm too late?" He asked, his voice breaking.

"Then I'll be there waiting for you," I answered.

"You'll die," Jack whispered. I laughed lightly, shaking my head.

"I'm not going to die today, Jack."

"You don't know that!"

"I've known for longer than you think," I said. I watched his teary, desperate expression and copied it to my memory as best as I could. It was the last time he'd look at me that way. At least for a while. "Just do me one last favor?"

"Anything," Jack promised.

"There's a girl you haven't met yet, try not to hate her when you do." I smiled and Jack nodded, trying his best to stay strong.

Then I left him there.

Alone in the sand, he watched a stranger he thought he loved going to what he thought was her death and vowed to save her from it.

Was it wrong for me to deceive him?

Did I care if it was?

***

Sam paced back and forth along the length of the lighthouse as he waited for Dean and Castiel to return. Every few minutes or so he would check his watch anxiously and run a hand through his hair, muttering something unintelligible under his breath before he resumed his pacing.

But Jack wasn't paying attention to that. He was busy staring at his hands. There were too many thoughts racing through his head for him to focus on any one of them. It had all happened so fast and there was nothing he could have done, but it didn't feel that way. Jack felt responsible. Martina was going to die because of him. It was his fault.

It was always his fault.

The door of the Lighthouse burst open, revealing Dean and Cas standing there in the driving rain that had come on before anyone had time to notice. Dean threw himself inside and Cas trailed after him, taking the time to close the lighthouse door while Dean shook the rain off like an oversized dog.

"What took you so long?" Sam was immediately questioning. "Where were you?"

"Gettin' information," Dean smirked. "It took a while, but one of the bloodsuckers squealed. What happened here, Jack?"

"I kissed Martina," Jack blurted out.

"What?" Sam, Dean, and Cas asked in unison, sharing the same disbelieving expression.

Jack hadn't meant to say it but it just sort of came out. It probably wasn't his fault, though. Jack simply couldn't stop thinking about every detail of his time with the girl in the lighthouse. He wanted to focus on what had happened after, but his brain simply wouldn't cooperate.

"I, um... I kissed Martina..." He repeated, somewhat nervously. "And I think I liked it..."

Had he liked it? Jack thought so; he was pretty sure. But something about it felt off.

Why had he kissed her in the first place? What had compelled him to do that? Jack didn't know.

His memories of the kiss were strange. He remembered clearly the emotions he'd felt, and the intensity of them. Yet, for some reason, Jack couldn't seem to recall where those feelings had come from. He had wanted to kiss Martina, but not like that... Or... maybe he had? It felt to Jack as if the decisions he'd made weren't his own. He couldn't even remember making any decisions, really. All he remembered was those feelings and acting on them. Something about that seemed off to him but Jack wasn't sure. He supposed it wasn't that out of the ordinary for him to behave impulsively. On the contrary, he tended to do that quite a lot. So, what was bothering him?

"Wait..." Dean paled, "You and Marty... You- You two didn't, like... do it in a lighthouse, right?"

Jack tilted his head, brows furrowing. "Do what?"

"C-Cas?" Dean's face whitened another shade as he turned to the seraph. "Please tell me your son didn't-" Castiel gave a long-suffering sigh.

"No, Dean. I really don't think they did anything," He said, rolling his eyes.

"Not everyone is like you," Sam added. Dean waved him off.

"Yeah, okay, but why am I the only one gettin' weirded out by this?" He exclaimed.

"Because we have bigger problems, Dean!" Sam pointed out, exasperated. Sam seemed anxious and Jack wondered what he wanted to tell them.

"Well, I think this is pretty big!" Dean insisted, turning to Jack. "Dude, what the hell?"

"I don't understand what you mean. Martina and I kissed." Jack said simply.

"Dean, seriously. I-" Sam tried. Dean held up a hand, sighing.

Dean sighed. "Jack... Y-You don't do that."

"Dean! Listen-"

"Not now, Sam!" Dean cut him off again.

"Why not? Jack asked, frowning.

"Look, ya just- Ya gotta wait a little while, man!" Dean said, running a hand over his face. "I mean, Marty's like, twelve!" He insisted. By then, Sam had decided he'd had it.

"No, Dean! She's really not!" The younger Winchester yelled, throwing his hands in the air.

"What?" Dean was shocked by his brother's sudden outburst. Sam took a deep breath to calm himself now that he had everyone's attention.

"Martina's not as young as we think she is. I-I think she's older, m-much older." Sam said, stress leaking into his tone.

"What are you saying, Sam?" Cas asked.

"I'm saying we've been played."

***

The car ride was smooth and it was the first time I'd been in a limo, so naturally, I took the comforts offered me. I stretched out across the seat, lounging as I stared out the tinted window. I didn't worry about Felix sitting directly across from me. I knew he didn't want to kill me. Not yet anyway.

"I'm curious, how did you manage to fool them?" He asked, watching me with a comfortable expression.

I shrugged. "Long story, lots of boring details."

"Indulge me," He insisted.

"Why should I?" I asked. He shrugged, mimicking me.

"I'm simply curious."

I hummed. "I bet you are."

He smirked. "Well, what can I say? It's just my nature." I nodded vaguely, continuing to stare out the window. We both knew how this would end. There was no real reason not to tell him.

"Sam Winchester and Dean Winchester and the angel Castiel..." I said their names thoughtfully, allowing the corner of my lips to twitch up into a sly smile. "They seem so simple at first glance. You have the poor unfortunate soul who lost so much yet kept his kindness, the perfect killer who spent his whole life at war, and the fallen angel who found a home. But if that was all there was then I never would have fooled them. However, for men who claim to be so faithless, there's so much they want to believe in."

"Whot do ye mean?" Felix asked, tilting his head. I smirked lazily. T

"I'll start with Sam. Sam is kind because he's damaged, but the last thing he is is a fool. When someone's good at unraveling lies, the last thing you do is give them a really big one to unravel. If you do that, then they'll cut right through and they'll figure you out easily. So, what do you do? You give them distractions. Hide puzzles within puzzles and Sam will stop to solve each one because he loves it. But how do you get him to ignore the big picture?" I stopped and grinned.

"It's easy really. All I had to do was appeal to his hate. Sam Winchester is so extraordinarily full of such raw and powerful hate, that if you simply aim it at a conceivable target, he can ignore anything else. And of course, with his hate blinding him to the truth, Sam can't figure out the lie. All one has to do to fool Sam is give him a puzzle to solve and something to hate.

"So, I made him hate you."

***

"How?" Castiel asked, tilting his head.

"It's Marty. We can't trust her," Sam said. Dean scoffed

"After all that lecturing earlier? Why the hell not?" He demanded. Sam took a nervous breath.

"Because she's been lying to us, Dean," He said. "I-I think she's been lying to us this whole time."

Dean's jaw clenched and he crossed his arms over his chest. "What are you talking about, Sam?" His voice was tight and guarded.

"I talked to Felix after I saved the little girl," Sam admitted.

"You just stood there and talked to that son of a bitch! He's a sick, messed up, psychopath! Sam, what the hell is wrong with you?!" Dean yelled. Sam held out his hands in a peacemaking gesture.

"I know w-what he is, Dean. A-and, believe me, I thought the same things you are now and I swear it was over the phone a-and all he did w-was tell me things. But-" Sam hissed through his teeth and tugged at his hair, seemingly at war with himself.

"But what, Sam?"

"I don't know. He- he just-"

"You don't know?!" Dean interrupted accusingly.

"H-He said things, alright! Felix told me things. Things about Marty. A-and they- they made - They just made so much sense! And I hate him just as much as you do and I don't wanna believe him but-" Sam's voice faltered and he shook his head seeming lost.

"What did he tell you?" Castiel pressed, gentle but still firm.

"He told me Martina killed his wife."

***

"Now, Dean? Dean's a little harder," I said as the driver made a sharp left-hand turn. "Dean's not just a hardened killer, though that's mostly what he wants people to see. He wants people to see the machine without a heart so no one will see how horrifically broken he really is." Thinking of what Dean was really like made me laugh and I flicked my gaze at Felix. "And believe me when I say that there's nothing that could fix him by now."

"But there's so much more to him than the killer and the brokenness. Dean's the righteous man who's never known a day away from war. There are so many things he wants so desperately. Dean dreams of walking peacefully along a beach yet he's never even been to one. For all he's never had Dean tries to give it to others. For all the blood and death he's seen he's remarkably full of love. Love is the key, really. Dean Winchester loves more powerfully than anyone I've ever met. If Dean loves someone he'll do anything for them.

"He sees my age and sees in me the child he never was. He sees me afraid and wants to provide me the protection no one gave him. He sees me flinch when someone yells and wants to offer me the security he never knew. He sees an orphan and wants to give me the parental love he never had. All one has to do to fool Dean Winchester is give him a child to love.

"So, I made him love me."

***

"And you believed him?" Dean scoffed. "Marty is a kid, Sam! She's a kid! Just a scared kid who needs our protection! Marty never could have done something like that."

"Why not?" Cas spoke up. All eyes snapped to the angel.

"BECAUSE SHE'S A KID!" Dean roared. Jack flinched away from him, he'd always hated when Dean yelled. It scared him. Though, this time Dean sounded less angry and more desperate. As if there was something he didn't want to believe. As if yelling the words would make them true.

"T-that's what I thought too. But what if we're wrong?" Sam asked.

"How could we be wrong?" Dean demanded.

"What if Marty's not a kid?" Sam carefully spoke, "What if she's not human?"

Dean shook his head. "No," He said, "No, you're wrong. I know what you're thinkin' and you're wrong." Jack shook his head too. There was no way... was there? Something itched at the back of his mind. He didn't know what it was. Did he want to?

"Dean, I know this is hard to accept, but we need to think this through," Sam said, holding his hands out beseechingly.

"We don't have time for that!" Jack spoke up. "Felix is going to kill Marty! We can't just let her die!"

Sam held up a hand. "He's not gonna kill her, not for a while. We have time."

"No, you don't get it! I promised I'd save her!" Jack said.

"Exactly!" Sam pointed out. "Jack, that's exactly what she wants! She's been planning this the whole time."

"What do you mean 'the whole time'?" Dean inquired, crossing his arms.

"Think back to the beginning, w-when we first met Marty," Sam said, walking them through it. "Why were we in Copper Harbor?"

"For a ghost hunt," Jack answered, impatience leaking through his tone.

"You're right, but there was another case there. What was it?"

"Blood was being stolen from the hospital..." Cas said slowly as if remembering.

"Exactly! Exactly." Sam took a breath. "Now, that ghost in the viral video, who was it? Was it whoever's bones we burned?"

"No, it was..." Jack made the connection. Why hadn't he noticed that before? "It was Isaac."

"Okay, so that means..." He trailed off.

"That Marty was lying about the hunt and the bones," Cas finished.

"Right, now why would she do that?"

"I dunno, professor. Maybe so we wouldn't torch her brother?" Dean rolled his eyes.

Sam pursed his lips, sighing. "Well, yes, b-but no! This isn't about Isaac, this is about Marty. What would she have been hiding?"

"The blood theft," Cas said decisively. Dean shook his head.

"That's a coincidence. Marty can't be - She can't-" He couldn't even say it. He could hardly think it. "Marty can't be a vampire."

***

"Castiel was harder," I continued. "Aside from the fact that he's a multi-billion-year-old cosmic being, Castiel also lacks a soul. That made tapping into his emotions significantly more difficult, but once I did that it was quite clear that I could never fool him. At least, not directly. He's intelligent, not easily deceived, and he always tries to do what he thinks is best. Whatever that course of action might be, more often than not, it hasn't been the right one.

"Castiel is, primarily, a screw-up. There's a lot of history and even more drama involving his fellow angels and the Winchesters, and he has consistently attempted to fight for both sides of the war between them. His torn loyalties have caused a great many more problems than they've fixed and it seems as though any attempt to fix one of said problems breeds yet more chaos. Castiel is rebellious. He can never seem to do what he's supposed to. So, naturally, that makes him the most dangerous piece on the board.

"When Castiel sets his mind on something, there isn't much that can sway him. His actions have proven, repeatedly I might add, that he is even willing to go behind the backs of the Winchesters if he believes it's for the greater good. But his destructive pattern stops only for the one person he's never betrayed. Thus, to fool Castiel one has to fool his son.

"So, I got my hands on Jack."

***

"Why not?" Cas snapped.

"'Cause she just can't!" Dean's voice broke.

"She single-handedly killed five vampires, Dean! Remember?" Cas pressed. "There's no way a mere child her age could have done that."

Jack shook his head, refusing to believe it. "Marty can't be a vampire. Dad, she just can't be."

Castiel sighed, his eyes soft. "I know you want to believe that."

"Why shouldn't we?" Dean challenged.

"Because she killed five vampires single handedly! What part of that escapes your understanding?!" Cas repeated with frustration.

"We don't know what happened in there!" Dean persisted.

"Exactly! WE DON'T KNOW!" Cas yelled.

"THEN WE CAN'T ACCUSE, CAN WE?" Dean shouted back. Jack flinched again and Cas took notice, forcibly relaxing his posture in hopes of reassuring his son.

Sam groaned. "Look at the facts, Dean. The research!"

"Damn the research, Sammy! This is Marty! We know her!"

"We know she's an empath!" Sam spat. "She's been playing with all our emotions, we know that! We need to look at this objectively and, as hard as that might be, it means looking at the facts!"

"What about the facts?" Dean asked reluctantly.

"Think about it," The younger brother said. "W-we did the research, remember? Remember how none of it lined up?"

"Yeah, because Felix messed with it!" Dean tried.

"Not all of it," Sam pointed out, "Marty said she was nine when she died, but her youngest brother was ten. Remember that? How could she have been younger than her youngest sibling?"

"Sam, that-"

"Because she wasn't, Dean," He hissed, "She wasn't nine. Marty was sixteen."

"I-I remember..." Dean froze, his eyes flicking up to meet his brother. "Sammy..." He said, his voice tense and shaking, "How did I forget that?"

Dread coated Castiel's tone as he answered instead.

"I think she wanted us to."

***

"Jack is a very special boy," I said, sarcasm lacing my tone. "Although, he is the offspring of a fallen archangel, so I'd assume that 'special' comes rather naturally. Thanks for that clue, by the way. It would have taken me much longer to figure him out if it wasn't for that itty bitty little detail."

"You would have gotten it regardless." Felix shrugged.

"Of course I would've!" I snorted, shaking my head. "I didn't think my abilities were of any question."

"They weren't," Felix replied. "I know what you're capable of, lassie."

I smirked devilishly. "You should." Felix's hand clenched into a fist and he sent me a tight smile.

"Indeed." He forced the word through his teeth. "Which is why I'm surprised you enlisted to lie to that boy so completely. Doesn't that violate whatever moral code of Donoghue's it is that you've adopted?" I nodded and shrugged with a sigh.

"You're right, it does. Jack is in many senses young and vulnerable and on top of that, he's dreadfully naïve. He could never deserve what I did to him." I huffed out a humorless laugh as my face twisted into a sneer. "But you do. So I made an exception."

Felix shook his head as if disappointed. "Now, now, Martina. When one has a goal, one does not make exceptions. Lest they desire to fail, of course. Only hypocrites make exceptions. Did I teach you nothing?"

"I'm not like you," I spat.

"Is that what it looks like from where you sit?" He mused quietly. I flashed him a barred toothed grin and continued.

"There's only one that Jack Kline truly wants in this world. He wants to be good - to prove to himself and those around him that despite his parentage, he can be good. He's been told that there's something wrong with him, so he wants to find a way to somehow purge it. But he can't because there's nothing wrong and there never was. Yet, he can't believe that. So it leaves him with an insatiable desire to please.

"It's pathetic, really. He seeks validation in everything. He thinks he has to be useful to be loved. Otherwise, he's just a burden, one that nobody wanted. Jack doesn't want to believe that; he wants to be told that isn't true. Jack Kline may be powerful but he's also soft - moldable if you will. See, he's so haplessly needy that it's honestly sickening. He'll do anything for you to tell him what he wants to hear. And he'll do anything to keep hearing it.

"Jack is a combination of his three guardians. He's desperate. Like Dean, he doesn't want to see what's right in front of him. But he's not stupid. I had to erase his memory more than once. Then, like Sam, I simply distracted him and, much like Castiel, I had to keep him in line by appealing to that insatiable need of his. To fool Jack Kline one has to give him someone to save.

"He thinks he's saving me." I smiled fondly when I'd finished, glancing up at Felix with a challenge in my gaze.

"Well, we both know that's impossible," He said, eyeing me with a smirk, "There's nothing left in that cold shell of yours worth saving." I grinned, showing him the insane thing he'd created.

"You're damn right."

***

Then, like a memory, there were words running through Jack's head. Words and voices, but he didn't remember hearing them.

'You said you were nine then! But y-you - you weren't!' That was his voice in his ears. But Jack couldn't remember saying those words. 'You haven't aged a day... Five years and you haven't aged a day.'

'I aged about a month, actually.'

The other voice was Marty. The words buzzed like static, making his headache. Jack shook his head. It was like Deja Vue but entirely more vivid. Sam, Dean, and Cas kept talking. It was hard to hear them through the ringing in his ears.

"Cas, are you saying she can wipe memories?" Dean asked.

"I'm not sure," Castiel replied, shaking his head. "But she can certainly suppress them."

"But it-it must only work when she's around b-because when she's gone - I know for me - When Marty's not around I-I start to remember," Sam said.

The ringing in Jack's ears intensified, making him groan and grasp at his head. He clamped his hands over his ears but the ringing only grew louder. It was like angel radio, but instead of being surrounded by fire, Jack felt like he was burning from the inside out.

"Jack?" Cas was calling his name. "What's going on?"

"I-I don't- I-" Jack gasped, the pain growing stronger. "It hurts! Dad, please make it stop!"

"Jack? JACK!"

He stumbled into Cas's arms as another blurred memory hit him like a train.

'I'm gonna need you to forget that,' Marty's voice whispered in his head. She sounded so gentle, so inviting. She sounded like a spider.

'I wish I could,' His own voice shook as Jack listened to himself say words he couldn't remember speaking. It felt like a memory that didn't belong to him.

There was more to it this time. There was a picture frame, but the picture inside was out of focus. There was an image. It was Martina. She had fangs. And there was something else too. Jack could feel it like a phantom pain. It was terror. The paralyzing kind. The feeling of being trapped. Jack felt the shadow of limbs and he couldn't move. He was trapped. Jack couldn't get out. He was trapped like a fly in a web. Marty was the spider. He couldn't get away. He couldn't get away from her.

She wouldn't let him.

'I can make you forget,' She was going to hurt him. ' Take us back to the night we met. '

'What do you mean?' His voice asked cautiously. He was scared. He was so scared. He couldn't get out.

'I'm going to talk to you, and then you're going to forget, and everything will be back to the way it was.'

'You're a monster.' He'd said

The ringing in Jack's ears faded and he bolted upright, gasping and shaking as panic set in. He needed to tell Sam, Dean, and Castiel what he'd remembered but he couldn't seem to find the words.

"S-She lied." That was all he could force out.

"Jack, what happened? Are you okay?" Castiel worried, checking over him. Jack just shook his head.

"She did something to me," He choked out, shaking. "I don't know. I can't remember. Why can't I remember? She did something to me!" He felt sick. There was something wrong with him.

No.

There was something wrong with Marty.

She was sick.

"What? What did she do?" Dean demanded, eyes wide.

"She-She made me forget. I knew. I-I knew and she made me forget!"

"Forget what?" Sam asked.

"I figured her out a-and she made me forget but I remembered." Jack stopped and only then did he realize he was crying. "She's one of them."

Because she had betrayed him. Marty had betrayed all of them. Jack didn't even know what to believe anymore. Had any of it been real? Or was it all some twisted lie?

"I'm sorry, Jack," Cas offered quietly.

"You were right, Sam," Jack whispered. He couldn't stop his voice from shattering. "Martina is a monster. A-And she lied."

There was silence for a moment. Then, Dean spoke up. Because someone had to take the lead and it was always him. It wasn't fair, but it was always him.

"We gotta go," He said, struggling to make his voice sound cold and firm. But he'd lost a daughter today.

"W-Where?" Sam asked.

"Me and Cas know where Felix is taking Marty. That kid's got some answering to do," Dean answered, his green eyes darkening with his tone. Castiel stood, helping Jack climb to his feet.

"Martina is dangerous, Dean. Are you sure you're willing to do what may be necessary?" Cas asked, watching Dean with a somber expression.

"It's not gonna come to that," Dean said.

"And if it does?"

"I will." Jack's voice was quiet but it caught the adult's attention.

"Jack, are you- Are you really sure?" Cas asked gently. Jack shook his head.

"I don't want to kill Martina. But you're right, she is dangerous." His voice faltered. "I can't let her hurt anybody else."

***

Felix's limo pulled into the garage of what was easily a multi-million dollar home. It was four stories and it reminded me of a castle with its dull grey stone and tall windows. The interior of the garage was constructed simply of polished cement and was entirely empty aside from the car now parked within it. I sent Felix a smirk and climbed from the vehicle, slamming the door shut behind me. The car was surrounded. Twenty or so of Felix's vamps stood guard but I knew they were more for display than anything else. Some of them I recognized, some I didn't.

"And here I thought this little girl's night was just gonna be you and me," I huffed dramatically upon seeing them, "You had me feeling all special."

"Sorry to disappoint, Lassie," Felix drawled. "But don't worry, I invited some of your friends too. Well, just one to be exact."

I shot him a curious glance but shrugged before sauntering my way past Felix's lackeys like I owned the place. I supposed I had, but that was so long ago. Were his minions really still so afraid of me? I surveyed one of the vamps as I passed him, taking notice of the bead of sweat dripping down his neck. He was clearly terrified.

So, they remembered who their queen was. Good.

Spinning on my toe like a ballerina, I let a bubbling laugh escape my throat. All of Felix's soldiers turned to face me, watching with careful eyes.

"Hello, Lovelies!" I called, grinning. A few of them shifted nervously. "Just thought you all should know, both your beloved Prince and Princess are dead! I killed them!" Murmurs spread around the empty garage, echoing off the polished grey walls. "That's right! Boyd's head I ripped off with a tractor, though I'm sure your leader was glad to finally be rid of his bastard son." I glanced at Felix who stood there stoically and winked. "I knew about that, by the way. As for Elwyn, I had the Devil's son snap her into dust like Peter Parker in Infinity War. 'Cept she ain't comin' back!" I giggled in reaction to the horrified expressions of Felix's soldiers and send the man himself a smirk before whipping around again.

"Ye know, Martina?" His voice made me pause though I kept my back to him. "I look at you and I don't see anyone looking back..." He trailed off, his tone thoughtful. "Where is that soul you used to have?"

"Just like I told your daughter, I lost it in the woods in favor of something else. You wanted me to learn something and I learned it!" I eyed him over my shoulder. "You never should have sent me there."

"I know that now." Felix sounded almost solemn. "Whatever Sampson brought back with him wasn't the girl I tossed in, was it?"

I shrugged. "That's where you're wrong. It's still me. Like I said, I just learned something over there is all."

"And what did you learn?" He wondered.

"That you were wrong."

"It doesn't seem I was," He said. I chuckled softly.

"You said I was made to be a queen. You were wrong."

"Aye?"

"I'm not a queen, Monroe." I turned to face him. "I'm a damn Empress." I grinned. "And, honey, you should see me in your crown."

I didn't bother to watch his expression. I just turned and walked.

Pushing my way through the garage door, I skipped down a long, dark hallway decorated with dark wooden pieces that I was sure had cost more money than they were worth. I smirked upon hearing Felix's footsteps trailing behind me. Whirling around and walking backward, I grinned at my former torturer.

"Got anything you didn't wanna say in front of your minions?" I taunted.

"I do, actually." He huffed a laugh that held no humor. "For the record, I'm sorry."

My expression soured. "No you're not."

"I am, truly." He placed his hand over his heart in a gesture of sincerity. "I apologize for my greed and my stupidity. I unleashed you upon this world; that will be my greatest regret, I think. I made you into a plague and I lost control over you."

"You never controlled me," I hissed.

"And I the second I realized that I should have put you down," Felix said. "I just hope the Winchester's don't make the same mistake."

I shook my head. "That's the think, Felix. They will."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not." He shrugged.

"I guess I'll find out, won't I? So! Where's this friend of mine?" I asked, rubbing my hands together.

"Two doors down on your right," Felix answered. I glanced at the door he was referring to then back to him.

"Ooh, goodie. Before I open it, why do I get a present?"

Felix shrugged. "Call it a joke."

I nodded. "Dope."

Then I skipped over to the dark wooden door and grasped the handle. It wasn't locked, of course, so I pulled it open. I didn't look for traps. I knew Felix would never stoop that low. The room was pitch black and there were no windows, but I found the light switch easily enough. Bright fluorescent bulbs flicked on and washed the space with light.

Sitting on a wooden chair in the middle of the room, was a rather muscular man. His arms and legs were tied to the chair and his head was tilted down. I may not have been able to see his face, but I would have recognized that old, grungy cap almost anywhere. I crossed the space between us and tapped him on the shoulder. The man inclined his head, squinting against the light, but when he caught a glance of my face, his usually bright eyes filled with terror.

I had forgotten how fun it was to instill that level of fear. I smirked.

"Hey there, Benny! I haven't seen you since the Hunger Games!"

~We'll never get free Lamb to the slaughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water? The price of your greed Is your son and your daughter What you gon' do When there's blood in the water?

Beg me for mercy Admit you were toxic You poisoned me just for Another dollar in your pocket Now I am the violence I am the sickness Won't accept your silence Beg me for forgiveness~

Lyrics from: Blood In The Water by grandson

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