#supposedly anyway- he at least knows all bout his adventures for sure

[cryptidofthekeys]

you know I've seen a few things here and there about like

Caine being literal in a sense bc he's an A.I. type of thing- where he takes or does things in a literal manner like for example- when Zooble tells him to 'forget it' it feels like he takes that a bit too literally and winds up forgetting whatever they told him previously-

and that's got me wondering- I'm no theorist- lmao I've never been any kinda theorist- I'll be honest, I don't think I could be-

sooo like... uh what if Pomni talking about Caine torturing her (bc like ya know all those adventures have been hell on her so far) like saying 'he's just trying to torture me' n such- what if Caine is taking that a bit too literally and is doing that bc she said so- I mean, he doesn't understand the trauma he's causing I don't think, he doesn't even understand humans, like especially nothing about their emotions

idk lol im just spitballing if anything really

[adventures-of-the-creeping-bam]

NEVER SPLIT THE PARTY: THE ADVENTURES OF THE CREEPING BAM,  BOOK FOUR: THE HUNT - CHAPTER 11

If you’re new to the story, please go check out Book 1 first …

Boof 4 Chapter 1 is here …

IMPORTANT:  Please note this story includes content that may be considered mature, such as moderate battle violence, some strong language and occasional mild sexual scenes.

If you want to support my writing, feel free to swing by my Patreon or Ko-fi.

CHAPTER ELEVEN:  DRAMRATH

When I was fourteen years old, and had been training with blades for less than a year, my father caught me one night playing with some of his own prized weapons.  I’d snuck down to his office in the small hours before the rest of the house was awake because my curiosity had long since driven me mad, the standing rule about none of us being allowed in there not scaring me off for a moment.  There were various mementos displayed throughout our expansive mansion that we were only allowed to touch while supervised, but he’d long since ruled that I was not allowed to do so until my sword-master had told him I was ready.  After more than six months of consistently beating three out of my four larger and supposedly more talented brothers in the circle, I was getting immensely frustrated that, as far as either of them were concerned, I still had work to do before I’d proven myself.  So if I was going to break the rules, I might as well go all the way.

So I picked the lock, which I’d learned to do entirely on my own just out of my own curiosity a few months before, and snuck in there quiet as I could around three in the morning, when I was reasonably confident I wouldn’t see anyone else for a few hours yet.  I remember spending a fair bit of time to begin with just snooping round the room once I’d lit a solitary candle in the corner, since I’d never actually been in here before and it was quite the novelty.  I couldn’t make head nor tail of anything on the desk, the various scattered papers made no sense to someone who had so little real experience of the outside world as I did back then.  But then the siren song of the various swords, knives and other blades hanging in his glass-fronted cabinet became too strong, and I tried a little more lock picking.  This one was a bit more of a challenge, but ultimately only took me a minute or so longer than the last.  And then I was in.

Most of what he had hanging in the rest of the house were just prizes of his various adventures in his youth, when he was a great knight in the service of Rundao, before he took his wounds and couldn’t fight anymore.  It made him damn bitter much of the time, I know, he’d never talk about his adventures unless he was deep in his cups, and by the end of a heavy bout it would usually make him seethe enough to turn violent, so I’d usually duck out before it got too far.  I was never that sure how much of it I really believed anyway.

The weapons he had in his office, though, were his own, either carried by him in battle or passed down from his own illustrious ancestors, or at least those that weren’t taken to the grave with them.  It was all pretty fancy stuff, but it was his bastard sword that he prized highest, his pride and joy, the sword he was determined to take to have buried with him.  Elven steel, but crafted to a more regimented martial design than normal blades of their type, which in a way made it all the more unique and exotic.  It caught my eye quicker than any other that day, and I think I fell in love with it the moment I saw it.

Needless to say this was what I was wielding when he walked in on me, roused early for an emergency business meeting and come to collect some important file.  And I was swinging it around with what he immediately took to be immense disrespect, even though I’m sure my form was as smooth and precise at it ever was in the circle.

He beat me bad enough I couldn’t leave my room for a week, I had to piss in my bedpan every time and wait for the chambermaid to remove it for me.  I never got to touch any of the weapons on display in the house after that, even the ones out in the pen.  Long after I’d proven I actually was the very best of his brood he still stuck to that punishment with increasingly petty bitterness, which is why when I left I took the sword with me instead of plumbing for one of the captured prizes like I’d always thought in the past.

I didn’t even bother picking the lock to get into the office that time.  I just booted the door clean out of its frame and then broke the cabinet wide open.  So he’d know how much of a point I was making about it.

Every time I tend to and clean this blade, there are a few moments when I just to smile a little over how much it tickles me that I took this away from that cruel old bastard.  I was tempted to belch a whole lungful of fire into room before I left, just to let him know I’d finally mastered that little ability too, but I held short at it.  I didn’t want to burn the whole place down, not with my siblings still in it.  I only hate him, even now the rest of them just earn a varying range of dull dislike to relative indifference.  Except maybe my big sister Kildrac.  There’s times I still find myself missing her a little …

Setting aside the whetstone at last, I take a few moments to test the edges on last time, cautious as ever when my thumb as I go knowing how fiercely keen the elven crafting tends to keep it anyway.  No need for more than gentlest passes here and there with the stone much of the time, just to keep the blade to a razor’s fineness at times like this, after a big fight like the one I had with that big woman.  I check it over once more, just to make sure I haven’t missed any particularly fine nicks or dents while honing out the larger damage from that dwarven forged monster she was wielding.

Still a little rattled by how it just sprang back into shape after hitting that magic shield, any regular sword would’ve been a twisted mess after, or just snapped clean through.  I have to supress a little shudder now at the thought.

Gods, she really was … but then I don’t know why I’m still surprised by just how deadly she clearly is.  Kesla Shoon, the daughter of one of the finest warriors Rundao’s ever seen.  His reputation alone makes my own father’s achievements look positively pathetic by comparison.  And she clearly inherited every drop of talent from him along with his blood.

Earlier, I flat out asked young Gael Foxtail just how good she really is.  I didn’t really expect them to actually answer me, any more than the rest of the questions I put to them, but in the end I think they gave me an honest answer simply to rattle me.  She’s the best they’ve ever seen, no swordsman can stand against her.  Apparently old Edhril taught her everything he knew, and I know full well he knew pretty much everything there is to know about warfare.

It doesn’t even sound like a lie to me, or exaggeration made by a friend, to make her seem more dangerous than she really is.  It didn’t feel like anything else but the gods’ honest truth, simple and matter-of-fact.  Like they were almost glad to tell me how fucked I’d be next time we cross swords …

To be honest, I found myself actually getting to like Gael Foxtail after talking to them for a time.  They were rightly wary of me, of course, very guarded with their answers, but … they were polite with it too, and it became clear enough to me that it wasn’t just down to them being very careful not to offend me given their imprisonment.  I have the feeling they’ve been raised to be civil and respectful no matter who the person they’re talking to is, but also I think it might be second nature to them anyway, just some quirk in their very character.  It’s incredibly endearing, actually.  In this way they remind me very much of Trouble.

They were certainly much more careful about the information they gave me outside of Kesla herself, but they let a few interesting titbits slip all the same, some I’m sure were intentional enough, meant to make me a little more nervous.  They were happy enough to tell me about their golem, certainly … yes, that great complication is every bit as worrying to me as it was when I saw the great hulking thing appear from out of thin air on the Heath.  Driver 8, as it’s known, is, according to them, almost uncannily aware of everything going on around it, and completely indestructible too, while also being easily strong enough to kill ogres with its bare hands.  I had a little chuckle about that when I said that Suret seemed to do fine against it, although that was perhaps a little bit of an exaggeration on my part, but they just laughed me off in response.  Apparently they’ve actually seen it do just that.  That gave me genuine chills to hear …

While we were talking, they gave away more little slips which I’m sure were less intentional, just little inflections and clues here and there that I pieced together myself while we were talking, or later when I was going over everything I’d heard, and not heard.  Like how the half-orc woman that ran Kuth so ragged, Shay, is new to the group, or that they themselves have a very strong personal connection to the bakaneko that Tham shot.  And that he’s a genuine prowler, not just a talented merc.  And not the only one in their group right now, too.  Which complicates matters even more.

Also there seem to be more mages in their group than we originally expected too.  They didn’t let anything slip about the other two spellcasters we fought on the Heath, but the way they were so guarded about that told me enough by its omission.  Another particularly strong personal connection to both, it would seem.

Altogether, their core crew are a very tight knit group, but it’s clear enough that they’re bonding closely with the newcomers they’ve picked up in this as well.  Gael seemed genuinely upset when they heard that Trouble had potentially killed one of the dwarves, and indeed this effectively ended our conversation because they became particularly upset and as much angry at me as grief-stricken.  They slung a few choice admonishments my way before getting themselves under control enough to just stop talking entirely, but the way they were furiously seething when I finally left the room after a clumsy commiseration spoke just as loud to me.  They lasted ten whole seconds after I’d closed the door behind me before I heard them through it, starting to openly weep, and it sounded harsh enough to make me feel very dark about my own part in that fight.

We took our leave of Vandryss and the rest directly after, I’d just had enough of that fear-stinking cellar and its oppressive atmosphere as much as her grating, offensive company.  So we collected a now particularly hungover Riveck and beat a retreat to our apartments across town, the mood fractious between us the whole way.  Once we got back I shut myself away in mine and Kuth’s room, determined to get some time to myself tending to my weapons while he went to get us some food, but mostly just spent the first ten minutes stewing in my own interminable frustration.

Taking care of my sword has, like always, helped me to gain some calm and focus again, but less than I’d really like.  When I give up testing the edge and instead just hold out the sword at arm’s length, looking down the blade first one side and then the other to inspect it for fresh imperfections one last time, my mind’s still churning some underneath my focus.  Not enough to distract me, but … damn it, I’m still restless as I let the sword settle on the folded blanket laid across my lap and give my hands a good shake.  Working out the kinks before I move to the next step.

Reaching to the bedside table, I pick the pot of oil up while selecting a fresh rag from the bundle mostly by touch.  I’m flicking the stopper free on its tether when the knock at the door comes, and I hold in the curse that wants to come mostly unbidden, even though I’m still instantly stiff from pure irritation at being so effectively interrupted.  Even though it was so polite …

Kuth would just walk in, whether the door’s closed or not, so I know it can’t be him.  The others know better than to bother me at these times, but if any of them dares to it’s invariably her.  So I rein my frustration in and let my breath out in a little sigh as I shake some oil out into the rag after all, clearing my throat as I call out low:  “It’s not locked, Trouble.  You can just come in.”

A long, loaded moment passes before she turns the knob and pushes the door open, and even then it’s very hesitant.  At first she leans in just enough to poke her face through so she can look in at me, checking to make sure I’m not about to jump up and lop her head off in anger, it feels like that the way she looks so reluctant.  Gods, she gets so timid sometimes, even after all this time, in spire of all that capability and talent she has.

“I’m sorry, I just –”

“Stop it.”  I breathe it as gently as I can, not wanting it to sound remotely forceful, and I think it works to sound like a request rather than an order.  “Just come in already.  You know I don’t mind.”

Frowning deeper, she looks down at the floor as she draws up to a little more of her relatively diminutive height and pushes the rest of the way inside, quickly pushing the door to behind her but not closing it entirely.  She stands there for a long beat, still awkward, seeming to be thinking about what to do next, and I let another sigh go as I just fiddle with the now oiled rag somewhat before carefully taking my sword up with my other hand and starting to polish the blade.  Going smooth but slow, cautious as always of the edge but also respectful of the steel.  Just like my swordmaster taught me.

Finally she steps over and, after a little last hesitation, very carefully settles at the far end of the bed, close as she dares while giving me room to work, I know.  She’s not standoffish, of course, we’re good enough friends that she’s comfortable getting close to me, even hugging me when she feels confident enough to do it, but she’s very deferential too.  So she carefully hitches herself up on top of the covers and mattress to perch the best she can on the edge, her feet dangling a little now while her slender tail with its shaggy tuft of black hair twitching back and forth between her ankles.  The clearest indicator of her mood, of course.

For a few moments I just continue to work away, letting her settle, her own silence letting me know she’s waiting for me to speak first, but I just wait.  I’m not looking at her now, concentrating on the job at hand instead, just vaguely watching her tail through the corner of my eye, but I’m sure she must be frowning deeper now.  The way I hear her breathing entirely through her nose tells me her lips are set tight, letting me know there’s some greater urgency here I didn’t immediately pick up on before.

So I let another sigh go and carefully set the rag aside before turning the sword over to start on the other side, taking another deep breath before I look her way.  “All right … what’s up?  Did Riv’s healing not take as well as you’d hoped?”

She looks up now, blinking in surprise.  “What?  Oh … no, he’s all right … I fixed his arm just fine.  He was annoyed again about the way I keep sobering him up, but that’s nothing new …”  She looks down and frowns again, letting a heavy breath go through her nose.  Thinking again, more decisive now.  “No, it’s … Kuth’s back.  He got the food, and he’s preparing something, but … he heard something while he was out.  I think he may have been listening out for it, actually.”

I have to stop mid-swipe to keep from cutting myself by accident.  Damn it, Kuth … I wanted to just ignore that bitch and all the problems she keeps dumping on us for a while, but of course you had to …

Taking another breath, I count down in my head and let it go slowly, grounding myself the best I can, just making sure I’m calm after all before I look up again.  “That sounds about right, yeah.  I didn’t ask him to do that, but –”

“He’s Kuth.”  She nods, sighing again.  “He can’t help it.”

For a moment I consider just setting the sword aside and heading out to ask him direct what he’s learned, but instead I stay put, not wanting to get worked up over it.  So I loosen my fingers again, mindful I’ve made my hand particularly slick the way I’ve been squeezing the grease out of the rag, and work it round for a moment before continuing with what’s left of my cleaning.  Clearing my throat before I speak again.  “So what is it, then?  Clearly he’s already told the rest of you, or you wouldn’t be so worked up.  More than you’ve already been.”

She almost doesn’t meet my eye at that, I can see it, but she manages to look for a moment before looking down and gritting her teeth.  “Yeah, well … it’s really not good.  Apparently Vandryss … it’s like you thought, out there.  She did something ... awful.  How she even did it I don’t … but it’s bad.”

Fuck.  Fucking Vandryss … the way she peeled off after getting that information from Darion Foxtail, after dragging his child around more in front of him, yanking their hair, putting a knife to their throat at one point, just to ram it home for him, I hoped, but even then … it gives me chills to think on it, but more the glee she had in her face when she left the room, that made me feel sick to see it.  She’d viciously cajoled a whole list of names out of him, and it worried me enough how many of them I actually recognised.  I remember thinking at the time that there was no way that she’d actually go through with what I thought she might be planning on doing, Hontiresk would never stand for it, but …

Damn it.  He’s changed since you saw him last, Dram.  He’s still the same nasty, cold-blooded piece of work as before, but … no, the way she’s got her claws in him now, however subtly … she did it, clearly.

It takes me a few moments to get myself under control enough that the first word out of my mouth isn’t a particularly loud curse, but by then I’m already tossing the rag aside for the last time and lifting the sword from my lap again.  Gripping the hilt a good deal tighter than I’d like as I pick up the scabbard and work hard at keeping my hands from shaking long enough to guide the blade home into it.  Finally I just breath the word out anyway, but most of the worst venom’s eased off, at least … “Fuck … how many are dead?”

Trouble looks up at me, her eyes about as sad as I’ve ever seen them, as bad as they were yesterday when she was so cut up about the dwarf she’s likely killed.  She opens her mouth to answer, but can’t seem to find the words.  She’s got her fingers laced together now, fidgeting awkwardly as she frets over this, and she’s gnawing hard on her lip too, there’s a chance she might bite right through it soon if she gets any more worked up.  “It’s … My Lady … oh shit, Dram, it’s a lot.  There are … at least ten very important nobles, they’ve been … it was ugly, Kuth says.  The folk he talked to said the townsguard didn’t know what to make of it, it’s nothing natural, something horrible happened to them all.  And not just the nobles themselves, but … their families are dead too, and more besides.  Most of them were in their homes at the time, and it sounds like …”  Her breath hitches, not starting to weep but still catching badly as her voice fails her.  As her words fail.

“So this … whatever it was that’s been doing it, it just killed everyone that was there?  That’s what they’re saying?”

When her eyes track down to look at my hands, I realise that I’m still gripping my sword tight, the right on the hilt while the left is squeezing the scabbard hard enough to make the leather creak.  It’s all I can do to pry them loose again, careful to let the weapon settle on my lap again as I take another deep breath to ground myself.

“Um … I’m sorry, but … yes.”  She licks her lips, further betraying her nerves.  “Perhaps indirectly, I mean … there’s no real way for anyone to be sure that it’s really her work, since this was clearly some kind of fell supernatural … thing, but …”  She trails off, again unable to keep eye contact.

Snapping the sword home in its sheath, I toss it roughly behind me and look down at my hands, still visibly shaking as they threaten to turn into real claws.  When I speak I have to do it through tightly clenched teeth.  “You don’t believe that any more than I do.  Do you?”

Letting a heavy sigh go, she slumps entirely, her shoulders drooping as badly as her head as she continues to wring her hands.  “No … of course not.”

“The people who are dying, or at least the most obvious targets among these great … piles of dead this … whatever it is has been leaving behind, they’re all nobles, yes?  High-ranking ones?  And among the more … upstanding citizens among the city’s highborn, I’d imagine.”  I give up fighting now and just let my fingers curl into fists after all, keeping them balled close in my lap.  “More than a few of them would have been veterans of the Wars, wouldn’t they?”

She looks up again, and doesn’t seem anywhere near as surprised as she should have been in the face of this supposition.  She’s still just sad, but with an edge now.  Something sharper.  It feels almost like guilt.  “Yes … the majority of them, in fact.  And the rest … according to Kuth, the rest would certainly have been sympathetic to the veterans.”

“Which is exactly what I gathered from the list of names Vandryss pulled out of Foxtail when she used his child as leverage.”  I pry my teeth apart now, having to really work at it, but I need to work my mouth now, the urge to spit’s so strong it feels like I’m chewing on something genuinely vile now.  “That fucking psychopath …”

Pushing myself up, I start for the door, then stop myself short of it, halting on the spot for a long beat as I go over things in my head.  My head’s racing with a thousand thoughts at the moment and I’m fighting hard to get some focus into it, but right now …

When I turn back I see Trouble’s watching me very carefully, and maybe there’s a little nervous worry in her expression again this time.  Like she’s extremely wary of saying the wrong thing in case she shakes a particularly bad reaction loose.  It hurts me seeing it, I’ve never wanted her to have any reason to be afraid of me, despite what she knows about my past, what I’ve done, what I’m capable of.  The reasons Ixen still defers so readily to me in spite of his own strong alpha male tendencies …

Forcing my fingers to loosen, I wave her down the best I can, but it feels as half-hearted as it must look, I just can’t muster enough will to be convincing right now, shook as I am by this development.  I am angry, that’s the problem, I’m fucking furious, I’m ready to fucking kill and I’m itching for a target, and I know exactly who I want that to be, but right now it makes me extremely dangerous to be around, and Trouble’s instincts are too strong for her to miss it.  No wonder she’s so skittish around me now.

“No … no, that’s … it’s all right, Trouble.  I’m not …”  I let the breath I really don’t want to be holding go and it comes out in a sharp hiss, and I can feel how hot the air is, the way it steams as I spit it out.  It’s a bad enough sign on its own, that …  “Shit.”

She doesn’t answer me, simply looking down instead, visibly demurring so she can appear good and passive to me now, and I feel a sharp stab of shame through me that kills some of the fury in me dead on the spot.  Not enough to cool me down, but … well, at least it’s enough to take the edge off, perhaps let me get a grip on my temper again and force myself to just chill.

So I pull in another deep breath, feeling the air in my chest blazing hot as it builds, and again I take a moment to count down good and slow in my head before finally moving again.  Even so, when I step towards the bed again, even though I’m not approaching her Trouble still shies from me as I come.  I almost freeze seeing that, but instead it just makes my step falter, and I have to skip a little bit to avoid tripping as I keep moving.

First I pluck up one of the cleaner cloths from the stack I’ve laid out with the rest of my kit and shake it out, breathing a little less ragged now as I work on getting my air under control and a good deal cooler than it is inside the furnace my chest’s becoming.  I really don’t need to start spitting flames by accident right now.  Once I’ve got the cloth loose I do my best to wipe the oil off my fingers and palms, concentrating as much on this simple task as I can in the hope it might calm me down further.  Even so, I become aware of Trouble settling on the bed again, likely deciding now I’m not any real danger to her after all.  Meanwhile I try to convince myself of the same thing.

“Um … yeah, I’m sorry about that, Trouble.  I really am all right.  I promise.”  There’s not so much growl in my voice now, nowhere near the threat there was before, and my breath feels cooler now, no more smoke or steam pushing out as I speak.  “Listen, I have to go out for a little bit.  I think …”  I pause, shaking one hand out while I ball the cloth up in the other, taking another breath.  “Um … yes, I think that would …”  My words falter, and I just turn to her instead, hoping I don’t look fierce any more either.  “I think you should come with me.  Are you all right with that?”

This time she just frowns, seeming as surprised as she is perturbed, as if she doesn’t quite understand what I’ve just asked.  “Are sure … wouldn’t Kuth be better to watch you back?  He’s your second, and besides –”

“No, I don’t think that would work.  I need someone I can trust to keep a level head no matter what.  I could pick Ix, but …”

“Oh no, he wouldn’t do at all.”  She shakes her head, the hints of a smile touching her lips now, and weak and rueful as it might be it’s good to see it.  “No, he’s just … Ix can keep a level head just fine and he’ll still murder someone without any provocation at all.  No, you’re right.  I suppose it should be me.”  She starts to push herself up too, then slumps once more, her face falling again.  “I mean … I should be the right choice, but …”

“Hey!”  I step right to her now, and at least this time she doesn’t cringe away like I might have expected after her previous reaction, so I can put my hand on her shoulder and give it the softest, most hesitant squeeze while I try to keep my voice gentle.  “Hey, come on … no, I won’t have that.  You’re the toughest person I know, and you have the most level head by far out of all of us.  You’re right, you are the right choice for this.  You’re perfect.  I wouldn’t want anyone else backing me up right now.”

Tucking a couple of fingers under her chin, I lift and turn her face toward me again, instantly seeing how nervous she is again, but in a different way now.  “I mean it, that’s enough of that shit.  You took a knock before, but you’re tough as hell.  Don’t worry about this thing, I’m not going out looking for a fight right now.  I promise.”

For a long beat she just watches me, wary still, but finally her face hardens and she gives a cool nod.  “All right.  Yes.  I’m good.”

While she makes a far more successful attempt to stand up this time, plucking her sword up from where she left it leaning against the table, I retrieve my own and start unravelling the belt again, taking time with it so I can focus on the task and make sure I do it right.  I’m mostly done strapping it on when I finally look up and find her frowning at me as she watches what I’m doing.

“I thought … you just said we weren’t going looking for –”

“We’re not.  Trust me.”

Once I’ve got the sword cinched and let it hang in its best spot at my hip, I turn back to look the rest of my gear over for a moment, thoughtful again.  Mindful of what I’m about, I consider the rest of my blades with a more critical eye.  I know I said I’m not looking for a fight, but … that being said, I’d be a moron not to plan for eventualities all the same.

So I retrieve the two stilettos and slip them into their concealed holsters under my bracers, then instead of wasting more time shrugging back into the rest of my leather armour I simply duck over to the chair and pick through my pack.  Finding my shortest, most lightweight jacket, I shake it out and then drag it on, taking a final moment to check the slits in both sleeves are still open, ready in case I need to get at the stilettos fast.  Then I come back to the bed and grab one of my medium knives, slipping it into the corresponding slot in the inside lining on the right side of my jacket.

Trouble’s still giving me a complicated look, like she’s genuinely questioning if I really meant what I just said to her, but I just shrug as I reach up and shake my hair out from under the collar.  I can’t be bothered binding the plait back up into its bun again, so I just let it hang down my back, taking a beat the brush my bangs to either side of my face.

“Come on, then.  I have a bone to pick, however carefully I might plan on doing it.”

I can feel Trouble wanting to speak up at that but holding her tongue instead as I step past her out of the room, and just carry on into the corridor, trusting her to follow.  There are the usual sounds of conversation from the lounge, immediately letting me know most of the group are in there, but I keep going past it instead, instead heading towards the front of the apartment.  Approaching the door, and the turnoff into the kitchen.

For a beat I consider just stepping straight out without saying a word, but instead I slow my steps at the last and instead take the turn down the short passage next to the main door, into the kitchen.  I can hear the clatter of crockery within, so I just take a breath and step through, just in time for Kuth to stop in his tracks the moment he turns round with a full platter of food in his hands, surprised to see me.

“Oh!  I thought …”  He frowns, clearing his throat, and steps forward after all.  “I was –”

“Never mind.”  I hold my hand up, feeling a little sheepish now but hiding it well enough as I just try to keep my voice cool and gentle.  “I’m sorry, I know you’re making an effort.  But we’re going out after all, so –”

He looks down at the food in front of him for a beat as he listens to me, and his frown deepens.  He’s not exactly a spectacular cook, but he knows how to pull off the basics, so he’s stuck to his few strengths, clearly having gone out for food that he doesn’t have to put too much thought into.  So the platter’s heaped with sandwiches, fresh sliced bread rolls filled with thick slices of salt pork or beef, some with scraps of lettuce and tomato, but others without, likely very much in deference to Ixen’s far more carnivorous preference.  This food’s for the whole group, but at the end of the day I know full well he’s gone to all this effort mostly just for me.

“But I thought …”  He shuffles his feet for a moment, awkward now, as he looks back up.  Not quite pouting, but he’s put out all the same, and I start to regret the decision a little.  “Right now?  You ain’t had anything to eat since –”

“Yes, I know.  But this needs to be addressed, what’s happening …”  I let out a particularly heavy sigh this time.  “I have to deal with this shit that she’s doing.  It’s a problem, and –”

“All right, well gimme a minute and I’ll –” He starts to move forward again, likely planning on inching past me so he can deliver the food, but I just step into his path, holding up my hand now.

“No, I’m going with Trouble.  I’m not going to see Vandryss, I’m going to see Hontiresk.”

Cocking his head, he just considers me for a moment.  “That’s not … I don’t see why that would make any difference, though.  I though he was thick as thieves with her.  Why would it make any difference?”

“Because he wanted us to do this quietly, that was supposed to be, like the whole point.  Instead, from the sound of it she’ just went and murdered half of the Hill since yesterday.  With … whatever fucked up dark shit she’s got her fingers stuck in.  That is pretty bloody loud, if you ask me.  He can’t be all right with that.”

“Well, I still think I should be the one –”

“No, please, I’d rather you sat out on this one.  Get some rest and some food, along with the others.  There shouldn’t be any danger out there.”

He just keeps frowning at me.  “I dunno, after what happened the other night …”

“How the hell are they ever going to find us?  They have no way to even start.”  This doesn’t seem to perk him up any more than anything else I’ve said, so instead I simply duck in around the platter and give him a kiss on the cheek.  I seem to take him a little by surprise, but instead of stiffening, as I pull back he instead lunges in and plants a fuller one right on my lips.  It takes me so unguarded that I don’t even think about responding, so he presses it tight and holds it for a long beat, lips parting now, and this finally spurs me into my own action.

I don’t kiss him too deep, with the tray still in his hands it’s an awkward position, but I open my lips and turn my head all the same, letting his tongue slip into my mouth and responding in kind.  It’s quick and a bit stiff and clumsy, but I still have to fight hard just to pull myself away from him.  He has to take a breath when I break away, but I just give my lips a firm little brush with my tongue, definitely wishing I could do more than that now, and I’m sure he’s feeling much the same as he adjusts his stance a good deal more self-consciously now.  I just step back, but then hold for a beat, considering, before coming back and grabbing two of the sandwiches from the pile.

“I’ll be back soon.”  Stepping back past Trouble as she frowns up at me before heading over to grab a roll for herself too, I skip back out of the kitchen before he can reply, heading straight for the exit.  Trusting her to catch up, I just keep going as I slip the locks, bolts and chain, pulling the door open and ducking out without a pause, not slowing until I’m out in the corridor beyond.

Now I start taking stock of my surroundings.  It’s still morning, late enough at least that most of the city’s already left for work or whatever long since, but there are voices around the worn, ratty interior of the building all the same.  Mostly coming from below, the sound of children mostly, I think, but when I listen out I can pick up at least one low muffled conversation through the wall to my right.  Nothing that sounds any different from what I might have expected stepping out of the door at this time of day.  Certainly no threat.

When Trouble comes through and closes the door behind me, taking a moment to turn some of the locks again before pocketing her own key and turning my way, I’ve already moved off towards the stairs, taking my time now as I tear a hungry bite from one of my own rolls.  Pork, with lettuce and a particularly juicy slice of tomato, and the bread’s soft and fresh, but with a rewarding crunch to the crust.  It’s all I can do to savour it instead of just wolfing the rest down in one go, now I’ve remembered my appetite.

“You’re really sure about this?”  she asks now as she catches up, falling into step as I swallow the mouthful and take the turn to start stepping down the stairs.  “He’s right, I mean … after what happened, what we just did …”

“No.  I’m not.  Not really.”  I fight the urge to sigh again, instead just biting off another mouthful and plunging on, watching my step now so I don’t take a tumble and choke myself to death like an idiot.  “Of course I’m thinking about that too.  But I have to try.  You do see that, don’t you?”

For a few moments she doesn’t answer, instead seeming to mull it over as she keeps pace as we continue our descent.  Not frowning so much now, but still so serious …

Finally she just lifts her own sandwich and takes a similarly heaty bite, looking pretty dogged and relentless now, I realise.  “Yeah, I suppose I do.  I’m with you, boss.  All the way.”

TO BE CONTINUED ...

[shihalyfie]

How would you describe the relationship between each respective goggleboy and 'rival'? Ive seen different interpretations but im curious what you think! Not to mention that the fans are sometimes arguing over who the 'rival' actually is, like with Daisuke where some people say its Ken and others say its Takeru. (I dont think there are actual rivals in the show, except for maybe Manga!Kiriha who outright says he will be just that with Taiki.)

One thing to keep in mind is that the word "rival" has kind of integrated itself into anime lingo as a full-on English loanword, so it comes from expectations of anime tropes more than anything. While even official staff has used that word in talking about Digimon, as you say, it never really fit to begin with, because not only has Digimon TV anime never been a particularly conventional shounen series in many ways, that term was also mostly coined in light of series where that term made a lot more sense. As in, they were more likely to be actually competing over something (in sports, or something tournament-based like card games); in that sense, a "rival" would be someone who might be antagonistic by being on the other side of the field, but would have a mutually positive relationship with the other person overall because the competitiveness would keep both of them on their toes and allow both of them to improve together. Digimon is not the first time this term has started getting overapplied to contexts where it doesn't really fit at all (it's been going on in Super Sentai for years), so people generally have a greater perception of it broadly meaning "two characters who have differing opinions on how something should be done due to their differing personalities, and sometimes fight over it", but in Digimon especially, it really does seem like trying to smash a square peg into a round hole.

The short answer: Xros Wars is probably the only one you can make a real argument for.

The long answer, in detail:

Adventure: I cannot emphasize enough that Adventure, being a series that was really big on that whole trope subversion thing, is a series that casts the trope of "rivalry" as "getting in a lot of fights" as a bad thing -- it's actually pretty unsubtle about it, because the word "rival" itself is explicitly used in Adventure episode 44, by Jureimon trying to manipulate Yamato. Or, in other words, "hey, if you saw someone who's supposed to be your supportive friend as someone you had to constantly compete against for no good reason, wouldn't that be really messed up?" Adventure does not even bother with or remotely believe in the idea that fighting somehow is a sign of how good friends you are, at least, not as long as that fighting is a sign of genuine hostility and refusal to communicate (which is why Yamato punching Taichi in 02 doesn't count). Every time Taichi and Yamato got in a fight back in Adventure, it was heated and ugly, and everyone in their presence was horrified, and once they sorted out their issues in Adventure, their appearances in 02 and Kizuna involved properly talking things out and making an active attempt to understand each other's feelings. There's a bit of bickering between them due to said opposing personalities, but it's never over anything serious (see the contrast in Kizuna between them having a bit of a minor row at the beginning, but high-fiving right after and spending the rest of the movie practically counseling each other).

02: Straight-up does not exist. Daisuke may have seen Takeru in that way due to the Hikari issue at first, but he was really running in circles getting absolutely nowhere about it, Takeru was mostly like "okay, you have fun with that," their only major argument about anything was the very serious issue in 02 episode 11, and it still resulted in Daisuke trying to understand Takeru's feelings. I think all of it boils down to Daisuke himself just not having that kind of personality to begin with, because he's friendly and supportive before anything else, and the whole thing with Takeru became a non-issue after a fashion (way before we even get into Kizuna, at that). Ken has the word "rival" sometimes applied to him in official franchise media, but nobody ever believes it. Sure, Daisuke and Ken have fairly complementary personalities, but they seem to both be aware of this fact and actively using it to help each other. It's very, very, very hard to imagine them ever getting into any kind of fight the way Taichi and Yamato used to in Adventure. It's just not happening! They're "best friends" who enjoy each other's company and actively hang out, and...yeah, that's it.

Tamers: Also does not exist! I know a lot of people really try to say it's Ruki because she's the one with the lone-wolf attitude and aggravated Takato at first, but my impression of Takato's attitude with her wasn't out of any competition but more that he'd like it if she didn't try to pick fights with him. Which she does actually stop after a while, mind you, and you could even make an argument that she's more of a foil to Jian than Takato, because Jian's the one who was completely pacifist at first, with Takato caught in the middle. In the end, Ruki never actually attains a particularly close relationship with Takato compared to Jian, nor does she really keep up a particular competitive streak with Takato; she kind of pops in and out at her leisure because of her more independent streak, and Jian ends up more of Takato's right-hand man (which is why the franchise presumably picks him as the secondary character to feature whenever they do "secondary characters"), but neither Takato nor Jian are prone to conflict and the entire trope is just fundamentally absent. The Tamers trio, is, ultimately, a trio.

Frontier: Takuya and Kouji are probably the first pair to really look like a proper execution of the trope, and at the very least they align pretty perfectly to how it's known in Sentai: a more hot-headed, aggressive lead with a more cool-headed and cynical right-hand man, where they end up often prone to conflict over dispute on how to best lead the team. However, while it's much more of a conventional execution than Adventure (since Adventure had Yamato actually be more prone to being an emotional fuse bomb whereas Taichi was often too chill more than anything), there being any conflict isn’t gone into that deeply beyond just "their personalities are complementary", and in that sense it's not far off from Adventure itself.

Savers: The series kind of baits you into thinking it might go this way when Nanami taunts Tohma about how he had to resort to a Masaru-esque tactic to beat her (it's one of its early red herrings about Tohma supposedly betraying the group), and it does have traces at the start because of how blatant of a foil Tohma is to Masaru, but one thing important to consider is that while the "rivalry" of what's being competed over is barely even relevant in most Digimon series to begin with, Masaru and Tohma don't even have a "group" to lead -- they're the employees under DATS who are being given orders from above, and are dealing with situations as they come. Masaru ends up leading the charge a bit, but he's not actually a leader in any shape or form, and Savers is more of a story of Masaru's coming-of-age than anything else, so while the series mostly has to do with his personal philosophy more than Tohma's, it ultimately lets the two of them pursue their lives their own ways. Masaru's worst bout of infamous anger is at being hurt over Tohma's apparent betrayal, not against him personally.

Xros Wars: I would say this is the only series to date where the term "rivals" properly applies, and it's because they're fighting over something concrete: the Code Crowns, and eventually Digital World territory. So in this case, for the first two parts, the answer is obviously Kiriha; Nene was a rival at first, but after various events happened she allied with Xros Heart early into Death Generals, and while Taiki and Kiriha had a relationship of mutual respect, Kiriha still considered him an opponent over what they were competing for until eventually the Xros Heart United Army fully came into formation. In the manga version, Kiriha does invoke the word "rival" in the above sense of competing to polish one's skills, but ironically, its version of the Death Generals arc involves them being much more in-tune with the same goals, so it might actually apply less because Taiki kind of responds with "uh, sure...?" since he's not nearly as interested in self-improvement. In Hunters, while it initially seems like it might be Yuu, the answer is really Ryouma, and note that Ryouma never really forms a particularly close relationship with Tagiru; it's just that he's the person most at the forefront for competing with Tagiru in the Hunt, to the point he's the first person chosen to wield the Brave Snatcher and turns out to be a bit of a foil for Tagiru in terms of actually having admired Taiki this whole time.

Appmon: Also does not exist. Rei tried to do the whole schtick in terms of competing for the Seven Code Appmon at first, but Haru was having none of that and immediately reached out to him emotionally, worrying about his welfare, and although Rei had a bit of a detached relationship with the other Appli Drivers thereafter, it really was friendly more than anything, just a bit awkward. Haru and Yuujin aren't even on the table, since their relationship is "best friends" akin to Daisuke and Ken.

Adventure: reboot: Also does not exist, considering that Taichi and Yamato bickering over the best way to approach things is limited to the very beginning of the series (and one of those times was with Yamato and Sora, not Yamato and Taichi, at that). In fact, I think most of these kids have been acting separately for most of the series anyway...?

[impishnature]

Dream A Little Dream

AO3 Fandom: Gravity Falls Rating: T Summary: Stan’s not sure whats real anymore. Prompt: @fexiled “Please don’t let me be alone.” and “I’m right here, okay?”

(PS: please don’t be mad at me for this one. I took some... creative liberties with the prompt- the other one follows it better than this one does. I just really, really had to write this one too.)

.

"Hey, Ford?"

"Yes, Stan?"

"You forgive me... right?"

Stan waited with baited breath, his heart thudding deep within his chest as if the answer would put a stop to it without a seconds notice. His brother's nose had been deep within his book, it was almost a surprise that he had even heard him. But at his second, hesitant question, he saw his brother's shoulders seize up, his eyes widening as if it was taking longer than usual for him to process the question. 

The book fell slowly to his desk, Stan's eyes following it until he winced as it hit the wood with a dull thud.

He wasn't sure if the swaying, sinking feeling that was whirling through his stomach was from a sudden bout of sea sickness or a twisted nervous nausea as Ford stared at him, lost and concerned.

"...What's brought this on, Stan?"

"Uhh- I mean- that is-" Stan coughed, turning his gaze away from Ford's worried one. "We just haven't really spoken about it, since- you know."

Oddly, Stan wasn't quite sure he even knew what he meant by that. Since Ford had come back through the portal? Since everything that had happened afterwards? Since- since, well, any when, he guessed.

Some things they just didn't talk about. 

And maybe they really should.

At least to stop his insides from chewing themselves to pieces every night when he lay awake.

Ford continued to watch him, wary and thoughtful before a smile spread across his face. He stood up, clasping Stan's shoulder until Stan finally looked him in the eye once more. "Of course. You got me back, didn't you? I wouldn't have asked you to come sailing with me if I hadn't already forgiven you."

"Oh. Oh, right." 

Ford's smile turned sadder, understanding etched into his expression. "It's still nice to hear sometimes, isn't it?"

Stan's smile turned sheepish. "Yeah. Yeah, I guess it is."

Ford nodded, tightening his grip before pulling him into a tight hug that Stan reciprocated quickly and with ease, his eyes shutting tightly to stop any tears from leaking out.

"I forgive you."

~~~

I forgive you.

The words were more of a whisper of a memory, or perhaps a wish, than reality.

Stan frowned, his eyes opening slowly. He could still feel the warmth of the hug around his shoulders but it was fading fast. What wasn't fading however was the darkness. He blinked, sitting up straight- when had he sat down? But to no avail, the darkness still pervaded. He scrubbed at his eyes, blinking over and over.

"Ford?"

Silence.

He swallowed, turning his head this way and that, his eyes slowly adjusting. There was something... off about the room, something not quite right...

It hit him that it wasn't shifting at all, wasn't moving quite like a boat should.

"F-Ford?"

His heart jack-hammered in his throat, the room becoming clearer as he grabbed at the glasses on his bedside cabinet. The sudden clarity made his heart fall through his chest, cracking when it hit the floorboards with a deafening thud.

He recognised this room, but it wasn't a room he'd ever expected to be in again. Not since- Not after-

"No. No, this isn't- Come on, don't do this to me."

He pulled himself out of bed, almost falling flat on his face as his feet caught in the blankets. But he didn't care, couldn't care, not when it felt like his world had been torn asunder all over again.

This couldn't be real. It had to be a nightmare, there was no way he was back here.

He shivered as he walked, his feet picking up speed quickly as he slammed through his door and up the hallway, hand flicking on the light subconsciously as he went. The warmth of the hug had all but dissipated now, though he clung to its memory in the hopes of bringing it back to reality. his mind looped around and around, words spinning out of control. Ford- home- safe- brother- forgiven- Ford- a mixture of broken mantras that all ultimately meant one and the same at his very core. 

It wasn't until he was halfway through the dimly lit corridor that he realised his thoughts at some point had started to spew from his mouth, plastering his words to the walls in a panicked babble of fear.

"Oh god, please don't let me be alone, please don't let me be-"

He skidded to a halt outside a familiar room, pushing open the door without hesitation.

Ford could yell at him later for waking him if he really wanted, but for right now- right now, all that mattered was that he was there, groggy and confused, he could even punch him if need be and he wouldn't even care-

The door opened with what felt like a cloud of dust, the echoing thud against the wall casting off more in it's wake. It billowed out, cold and clinging to his skin, making him cough as he pushed his head in.

The light from the hallway danced across the empty walls, the still made bed, and pulled curtains. It was all just the way he had left it, untouched, hoping that he would get him back before there was time for the bed to seem disused.

There was no one there though, no grumbling scientist, no concerned brother- no one.

Just the quiet, creaking house and his own panting, painful breaths.

"No. No, no, no-"

His feet were moving before he was fully aware of it, clambering, lumbering movements down the stairs two at a time, stumbling more than once but nothing stopped his forward momentum for more than a few seconds. He carried on regardless, ready to wake the whole house up if it meant somebody would appear, somebody would tell him that everything was OK and the world hadn't flipped upside down while he slept.

It can't have. 

It mustn't have.

He couldn't bear to live through it all, not again.

Not when he'd been so sure he'd gotten him back. 

Not when they had made amends and gone on the adventure they'd always promised they would.

It wasn't fair. Life couldn't be that unfair to him.

The ice cold stone steps brought him back from his spinning thoughts, his breakneck speed broken only by the prospect of an untimely demise down the flight of unyielding steps. He still took them fast, but carefully, hand sliding down the wall to keep him from falling as he traversed the small staircase that seemed to stretch every time he blinked.

The view at the bottom was everything he wished it wasn't.

His legs crumpled from under him.

There was the portal, it's gaping maw open wide and somehow staring at him judgmentally all at once.

 You did this. You did this-

"No- I fixed you. I got him back."

And yet the portal said otherwise, still broken, still unlit, it's twisted, shards of metal not even close to being reconstructed to how it should be.

And yet he was sure he'd seen it complete, sure he'd twisted wires and hoisted panels into place. Sure he'd watched himself do everything he needed to do, inputted codes that he had no recollection of researching and yet still knew off by heart. 

And if none of that was real, then did that mean-

Stan pushed himself up, gritted teeth and clenched fists pushing him on as he made his way back to another hidden room. It had taken him weeks to truly explore Ford's house, but his journal had helped. There were pages missing, but that didn't mean that most of the instructions weren't easy enough to follow, it had just been finding all the ingredients, all the materials that Ford supposedly had just lying around that had been the tricky part.

At least until he had found Ford's meditation area.

All he could do now was hope.

~~~

"Hey, hey, you alright there, kid?"

Stan breathed a sigh of relief, spinning round to the bright flickering yellow that was materialising between him and the now greyed out portal. "Bill." In the gloom of the mindscape, his fears began to fizzle, embarrassment licking at his heels as the impassive creature stared back at him, concern emanating but not quite reaching him. "I- that is- sorry, this is stupid."

"Hey, I'm right here, okay?"

Stan winced. Was it that obvious? Was he that easy to see through?

He hadn't even said that he'd been panicking about being alone and this thing knew about it.

Then again, that's what you got for tangling with a- well, whatever he was.

"Yeah. You're here. Sorry, just thought for a bit that I'd- dreamt everything up and- well, you know me." Stan's grin grew crooked, self-deprecating. "Not exactly gonna get Ford back on my own, am I?"

Bill drifted closer, eye wide and shocked. "Well, it's not like I could get him back on my own either. We need one another." Bill's eye crinkled, his strange makeshift smile obvious even without a mouth. Stan felt the need to shiver but refrained, not wanting to offend. "And I told you- I want him back as much as you do. I'll be right here, with you until we get him back- you do believe me, right?"

"Yes!" The word came out in a hurry, fear mingling once more that this creature that knew how the portal worked would up and leave him if he wasn't careful. Trust him? Maybe not. But it was his only ticket to Ford. "Of course, I do. Wouldn't be talking to you if I thought you were just a figment."

Bill laughed. "You're not smart enough to dream me up, kid."

That... smarted. But really, Stan didn't feel he had a leg to stand on arguing with that. "I reckon you wouldn't just be a yellow triangle either if I had."

Bill laughed harder, no offense taken at his words. "Well, if you can't sleep, how about you tackle some more of the heavy lifting for me?"

"Sounds like a plan. Who needs sleep anyway?" Stan stretched, settling himself back down over his body as Bill nodded in approval.

"Don't worry, kid, we'll get him back and the two of you will be sailing off together in no time."

Stan jolted out of his meditation, exhaustion plucking at his body but now filled with enough determination to ignore it. He pulled himself up, getting himself ready for the task at hand, his talk with Bill calming down his fears and keeping him in check.

There was a small fizzle of confusion though, a niggling strange doubt that sent a shiver down his spine though he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

He just didn't ever remember telling the creature about their dreams of sailing.

.

AN: I really had this image of Bill saying the second prompt. Sorry not sorry- the next one will actually be Stan and Ford.

[legion1993]

The Time For Secrets is Over

A/N: this is my new fave story header!!! i mean he looks so hot!!!! anyway this is for another write challenge!!! happy birthday @thinkwritexpress-official!!! this is #2 of 3 for ya...

pairing: jensen x reader

prompt: possessive

masterlist

my city is Shadowhaven, my name is Y/N. my home was originally New York, but i moved for my work... what happened after i moved was the way things happen, the way i ended up standing beside my very double-sided possessive Fiance. although before i should probably tell you how we got into this situation before continuing. 

~let me take you back to before we got into the danger~

as a artist, song writer and author i move around alot and always end up staying in a different place every few months or so.. depending on work, concerts, conventions, etc.

this project was taking me to the far regions of Europe. yay we are close to my ancestral grounds but i had never ever heard of a place called Shadowhaven till i was told to go record and spend time there... my manager told me it would be good for my rep... 

so i booked my flight and left the USA behind, flying my way to Shadowhaven a decent sized town in the deep end of Scotland (my home ancestral grounds). it was a nice relaxing flight, course i knew my history, but Shadowhaven had never been mentioned anywhere at all.

i could tell that this was the start of a new adventure, immediately making my way through the airport, through customs, towards the inner of the airport, i decided to shop for a new wardrobe that might help me to blend in, i knew my family crest colors so i used my skills in shopping to inconspicuously find a blend in outfit.

you approached this one boutique upon arriving inside this shopkeeper approaches you, and notices that you look like your seeking something specific. 

Shopkeeper: “good day lass, can i help ye with somethin’?”

you smile and turn to face this shopkeeper.

Y/N: “yes, what would you recommend for someone whose first time being in her ancestral grounds and wanting to experience some of her heritage?”

the shopkeeper was very impressed, but immediately had a thought. so she went around the desk again circling through some of the stuff she had back there, and as you watched you realized that it wouldnt be long before someone over here recognized you.

Shopkeeper: “what are your families colors?”

Y/N: “would this help i don really know how to describe it...”

you pulled out your smartphone and showed her a picture of your families colors. she comes up to you again a few moments later with a dress that looks like it was made for royalty, but yet it also looked surprisingly comfortable.

Shopkeeper: “come with me darling, let me help you put it on...”

you follow her to the back of the store storing your suitcase & backpack behind the counter, you knew that there was someone who was kind enough to help you. 

as she helped you get into that dress you started to feel like a normal person. almost like this was your destiny. but thats when you got to look at yourself in the mirror. upon seeing yourself in that dress you felt something inside you change. 

you looked at the lady and were instantly grateful.

Y/N: “thank you so much i appreciate this...”

Shopkeeper: “your welcome deary, its on the house... welcome home!”

you walked back to your bags and smiled as you left the store now blending in. you went to hail a cab and find somewhere to stay at a reasonable price.it wasnt until you got out of the cab in mid town, that there was a voice hailing you down...

a gentleman wearing a suit was now approaching you... it wasnt till he got alot closer that you realized how hot he was... 

Jensen: “excuse me ma’am, may i help you? you look a little lost.”

Y/N: “well yes i am a little lost, i dont really know the city too well... and i very well dont know how to find myself a place to stay so i can start working on my vacation! well actually it was my boss who said i work too hard and told me to just go back to my roots... so here i am on my ancestral grounds.”

Jensen: “well how does staying with me in my castle sound...”

Y/N: “you know supposedly my family also has a castle somewhere but i hath no idea where... its really quite frustrating...”

Jensen could only smile as he moved closer to you... he extended his hand and bowed...

Jensen: “my name is Jensen Ackles! and what is your name mi-lady?”

you were so flattered that you slid your hand into his and curtsied.. not being completely away that he had just marked you... a mark of possession it is something that has been passed down between your 2 households for ages...

Y/N: “my name is Y/N Y/L/N it is good to meet such a fine handsome fellow...”

Jensen: “its my highest honor to have you stay with me for the duration of your stay... no exceptions no constitutions... but some nights i do have things to do, extra work loads and stuff... so on those nights ill be gone shortly after dusk... so will thee join me as my guest, fair lady!”

you smiled at him nodding, but then before you had a chance to say another word your bags were being loaded into his car...

Y/N: "sir, are you sure its fine for me to come stay with you, i really dont want to be a bother..."

at the sound of your lips calling him sir something inside him stirred... as if some sort of dark force on the inside was trying to push out his darkness and take control...

Jensen: "sir seems too formal just call me Jay... everyone does..."

Jensen smiled darkly as you threaded your arm through his and both of you walked to his car... getting in you happened to see the heading of a newpaper.

《《Ethereal Phoenix claims another woman as his own》》

but Jensen rook notice of how your eyes flitted immediately across the headline on the newspaper. Jensen also knew he would have to be careful with where you would wander off too...

Jensen: "those colors are a representation of one of the original founding families of Shadowhaven... it is actually a funny thing our 2 households have always had good relations!"

the dark twisted sound to his voice made you shiver but it was almost like that good kind of shiver...

Y/n: "well i hope that i can learn some history while im here... i honestoy can say i knew i was from scotland but i didnt know where.. it really is beautiful here..."

Jensen: "when we arrive at my castle we shall take a walk through the country side and ill show you where your families castle stands!"

Y/N: "that sounds wonderful in fact i had hoped to get to know the man whose house im staying in tonight. for its my undying gratitude that i give to thee."

Jensen could only smile for in his mind, his other side was getting ready for its time to reveal itself.

the rest of the ride was calm and peaceful! Jensen suddenly felt something come over him... he had the driver stop the car and he stumbled getting out he started into the trees, you followed you had to make sure he was ok...

<< The danger is revealed>>

After a bit of running you found yourself in a clearing, you stopped to admire your scenery, but someone else was there too. for the sound of bushes rustling, branches breaking and heavy footsteps scared you frozen in your tracks..

Y/N: "Jensen... Jensen where are you?"

it wasnt till you screamed that, a dark deep laugh came out of the trees. it showed through the trees a golden blur... it kinda startled you but at the same time made you wonder, what kind of creature might be able to move like that...

you kept a steady pace and slowly continued to now wonder the dark wood in search of Jensen. but you were startled once more qhen a voice spoke out of the darkness.

Ethereal Phoenix: "have you lost something mi lady?"

you tried to track where that voice was coming from but debated on answering it but felt like you could trust it. but as if natural you pulled out your best scottish accent.

Y/N: "a friend of mine ran into these woods a few moments ago and i have not been able to locate him. who are you? where are you?"

ethereal phoenix didnt answer right away instead he raised up in a gold blur and placed himself in a tree.

Ethereal phoenix: "i am the one that those papers in town speak of, the one who takes those women away from their men, i am he who makes women feel like they are worth something. i am Ethereal Phoenix. Miss, may i say you look new, how long have you been in Shadowhaven?"

Ethereal Phoenix said with a dark twisted tone to his voice. you shook off the bad feeling that suddenly plagued you.

Y/N: "only a few short hours... look i really dont mean to be rude but im really scared and i need to find my friend, so please excuse me.."

you started to retrace your steps back to the car, but once more the ethereal Phoenix spoke as thought he had been following you.

ethereal Phoenix: "why are you in such a rush to find your friend dont you want to be with a real man..."

you stopped dead in your tracks, almost feeling more scared of the voice that was talking than that of the dark wood. thats when you saw it standing there a shadowy figure in the little sunlight shining in between the trees. 

Y/N: “excuse me, you have no idea how much of a decent hot man Jensen is... trust me he is better than you... mr im gonna be that creepy ass voice hiding in the shadows... that preys on innocent women, raping them, at least Jensen is man enough to show his face...”

at that moment Ethereal Phoenix rushed in a golden blur and pinned you to a tree... the sunlight reflecting off his face made it clear that he was nothing good... 

Ethereal Phoenix: “you need to learn some manners little girl... how bout i teach you some manners. you know i feel a little possessive of you, now lets go somewhere where i can stand over you, while you scream... while you scream for a rescue that will never come. now hold still and let me see what kind of goodies you have under these clothes...”

at that moment it was like something out of an erotic rape novel... for this creature teleported the both of you to a fancy castle bedroom. where he got off of you after laying you on the bed... he then shackled you to the bed... 

with one evil laugh he snapped his fingers and your dress tore in 2... this exposed your breasts and your lace panties and well everything. there was nothing good happening, there was a creature of some kind that looked human but yet wasnt... 

for it was the thoughts of Jensen, the mystery man that had disappeared that kept you squirming, that kept you screaming... for it was then that you screamed louder... that you tried to break the chains that now held you down.

Y/N: “if i survive this you son of a bitch i’ll kill you...”

Ethereal Phoenix: “oh you will survive this, you will just be my slave... my pregnant slave...”

your mind was now clouded, your mind was scared... hell your physical form was scared... your emotions were running higher and higher, but your form was screaming but all it did was echo over the walls, bouncing off of them like soundwaves off a pond of water.

Ethereal Phoenix: “keep screaming no one will ever hear you...”

this thing seemed to be very sly & very very demanding... that of course is till you started to think back to when you fist met Jensen. it was pretty well a similar nature but this was probably your minds way of making you think about something else.

this of course also seemed to be the bane of your existance... just as you watched your captor walk around it seemed like he was now addressing someone else...

Ethereal Phoenix: “stay down little boy, the girl is not yours... I’m about to claim her... stay away...”

you at that moment wondered who the hell he was talking to...

Y/N: “hey ugly ass if your gonna claim me you should just do it ‘nstead of making small talk with yourself.”

thats when you heard it, a voice it came out of the shadows... a voice that was a delight to hear, for you had no heard it for hours.

Jensen (voice): “phoenix you will not lay another hand on her cause i already marked her... not in the way you were about to but a mark of claiming that i placed on her when i first held her hand... now i say again, let her go...”

the voice, there was only one man you knew to speak with such a dark fire... but ethereal phoenix started to stalk towards you again, this time he was removing his shirt... it seemed like everything you held dear was about to be taken from you but the panic started to set in...

Y/N: “Jensen help!!!!”

Jensen (voice): “hold on Y/N I’ll explain in a few... but first embrace your inner Scotish heritage, you have to try and seperate yourself from those chains...”

Ethereal Phoenix: “insulent fool if you think that you can help this young girl escape... ha, you are really demented... soon she will have the sperm of a god thrust inside her, while you Jay will never ever see the light of day again...”

Jensen at this point had enough and started trying harder to take control back of his own body...

Jensen (voice): “Ethereal Phoenix you have made an enemy of me... as soon as my girl is free you will die asshole.”

you kept doing what Jensen said trying to embrace your scotish heritage... after a few moments it turned out that Jensen had been right the entire time... for you felt this surge of energy loosening the chains... 

Y/N: “Jay take control, bring him towards the mirror...”

the closer to you that phoenix came the louder that he screamed it was almost a war cry...

Jensen (voice): “Y/N keep doing what doing... he doesn’t seem to like it...”

Y/N: “thats fine but i dont know what im doing... or how im doing it...”

thats when it occured to jensen... he had to say something...

Jensen (deep dark voice): “Y/N, listen the mark i told him about its a mark of possession, it is always passed between our two houses when 2 people of the same age range find eachother... its passed through to show the other posers that the 2 people are... well its like a promise ring... or a betrothal of sorts... anyway its got powers, it is how your breaking the chains.”

Y/n: “ok so how does it work...”

Jensen (deep dark voice): “you have to think about what you want and you will have it so...”

with a few more thoughts your feet were free this made Phoenix look over at you... with a few more seconds and a loud crash your hands were now free... it was then that you were once more able to move... 

you didnt bother trying to cover up cause this fight was more important than what ever was left of your decency... 

Y/N: “hold on Jay... i’m gonna try to seperate you guys...”

you grabbed both arms, the screams got louder and louder the mirror started to crack... but you looked at the mirror coming face to face with Jensen, it was Jensen you could see him but you were hold Phoenix back... 

Jensen (deep dark voice): “okay you need to think about spliting me and Phoenix apart... think about 2 seperate physical bodies... i promise once i am in my own body seperate from this evil son of a bitch i intend to be possessive of you in the right way...”

the way that Jensen said that sent a fire deep into your core it was unlike anything you had felt before... you suddenly like it was beyond your control found yourself holding 2 different arms pulling apart 2 different bodies... but it was only the beginning... 

finally after one more good pull you had them split apart but when you did ethereal phoenix went flying out the window... it was not a pretty sight... Jensen however landed on the bed... 

you knelt down to catch your breath for it felt as though you had been running and running continuously.. but in truth it was just your physical body being exhausted from all the magical exertion...

Jensen who was laying still on the bed only breathing from what you could tell he only started speaking in a dark deep tone...

Jensen (deep dark voice): “it is said that when 2 has become 1 that they will fight the evil that plagues the world... they from the moment of marking shall be known to the world as Dark Archer & Dark Mistress... may they serve their powers with the same courage and shattering loyalty as their ancestors...”