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whisperednarratives · 4 years

Text

EVOLVE

/ɪˈvɒlv/

verb

1. develop gradually.

summary:

bakugo katsuki has hated l/n y/n since the moment she first took a punch for izuku midoriya.

the beginning of bakugo’s reign of resentment towards the girl was also the start of a wonderful friendship between izuku and herself.to say bakugo hated this arrangement was an understatement.

and things only got worse after that.after junior high school, both teenagers found themselves realising what they truly wanted.he had his goals and she had hers yet to get to where they wanted to be, they both had to attend the prestigious u.a. high school.

this is the story of how two future pro-heros found their feelings evolving over time until they realised that there really was a thin line between love and hate.

•

pairing:

bakugo katsuki x reader

genre:

enemies to lovers/slow burn/a bit angsty(?)

a/n:

i do not own or take credit for any part of bnha/mha’s manga/anime characters, plot etc.

all of it belongs to kohei horikoshi. i do not take credit for any art/photographs/visuals that will be used for any part of the story.

to be added to the TAG LIST of this story; please feel free to message me!

[NONE OF THE FOLLOWING CHAPTERS HAVE BEEN PROOFREAD OR EDITED]

[AGE: SIX YEARS OLD]

“If you don’t stop bothering him, I-I’ll fight you myself!”

Izuku Midoriya raised his tiny fists at his friend. He knew Kacchan could go a bit overboard sometimes, but it seemed like today he had finally snapped.

“You’re going to stop me?” Bakugo Katsuki threw his head back in laughter. “With what? You’re just a Quirkless little brat.”

Izuku rubbed his eyes, the tears becoming even harder to hold back. Kacchan’s fists were raised, no signs of his Quirk being activated yet, however, his ‘friends’ behind him had already activated their’s. It seemed as though they would do anything to impress their leader, even if it meant harming an innocent boy.

“K-Kacchan please! Why do you have to be so mean?” Izuku was crying now. Although he was trying to be brave, the tears flooded his face as his voice trembled.

The boy Izuku had been trying to protect stood behind him. He was too scared to say anything to the blonde boy who seemed to hate them for no reason.

Bakugo’s expression did not change, showing no signs of sympathy for his classmates. Instead, he took one step forward and pulled fist back back to attack.

Izuku raised his arms in front of his face, knowing what was coming. His eyes closed as he placed his arm over them, waiting for Kacchan’s fist to collide with his body but the strike never came.

Instead, he heard a groan of pain causing his head to lift from its position, his eyes now uncovered.

His line of vision was blocked by a bright blue. A girl stood before him, her hands clutching her reddening cheek. She was panting, as if she had just ran a marathon.

As Izuku moved his head to the side, he managed to catch a glimpse of Bakugo’s face. His eyes had widened and his mouth was open as he clutched his fist.

The girl looked at Izuku over her shoulder.

“You okay?” she said, flashing him a smile.

Izuku found himself nodding. He didn’t trust his mouth to speak yet.

It seemed as though the girl had taken a punch for him, even when he had no idea who she was. She was staring right at Bakugo with such defiance that it left Izuku shaking in his place. He knew firsthand how much pain Bakugo could cause even with his small fists yet here she was, still standing.

The boy Izuku had been protecting had already ran off.

It seemed as though everyone was in shock because it wasn’t until the girl spoke up that Bakugo realised what had happened.

She had been so fast to jump in front of Izuku that Bakugo hadn’t even been able to realise until his fist had collided with her cheek.

“Why don’t you walk away before this gets any worse?”

Izuku watched Bakugo’s mouth close instantly as his eyes glared daggers into the girl’s form.

“Who do you think you are?” his fists were clutched tightly against his sides as he took a step forward again.

The girl stayed unintimidated and instead, took a step towards him as well.

“Someone who thinks you’re a big bully,” she stared back at Bakugo with as much ferocity as she could.

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?”

Bakugo’s palms held the telltale signs of his Quirk being activated as he raised his hand again.

“Bakugo, stop! She’s that weird girl with the rock Quirk!” a boy yelled. “She made someone land up in the nurse’s office once!”

Bakugo’s eyes narrowed and he saw the girl flash him a smug smile. The ribbons in her hair had loosened as she crossed her arms over her chest. Her left cheek was now a bright red because of his punch and it didn’t seem like she was going to give up anytime soon. For some reason, he was reminded of himself as he continued to study her...

And he didn’t like it one bit.

“Doesn’t matter. I’m the strongest person in this class, I can—”

Bakugo’s words were interrupted as their teacher’s voice was heard from the distance.

“Bakugo Katsuki! Your parents are here to pick you.”

Letting out a scream of frustration, Bakugo lowered his hands. He was contemplating ignoring the teacher altogether, before he decided against it. His mother had a nasty temper and he wasn’t in the mood for a scolding today.

“This isn’t over yet,” he growled, before turning on his heels to face his friends. “Come on.”

As Bakugo retreated the scene, he looked over his shoulder in time to see Izuku grab the girl’s extended hand.

The amount of anger that surged through Bakugo’s body upon seeing the scene was something he’d never felt before.

How dare this unknown, annoying little girl stare at him so boldly?

How dare she protect dumb Deku who deserved every punch thrown his way?

Nobody had ever stood up to Bakugo before. Nobody.

So how can this girl have the audacity to face him with such unreserved opposition?

Suddenly, Bakugo remembered who she was.

Always sitting alone in their classroom, she often stared out the window. Her behaviour always got her reprimanded by their teacher but she was one of the first few kids (much like Bakugo) to manifest their Quirk.

He remembered her showing how she could float some stupid rock in the air for a few seconds before her face turned green.

She wasn’t strong at all. Just some nobody who could do a few party tricks.

Then why did that idiot say she landed someone in the nurse’s office?

Bakugo felt himself rolling his eyes as he got closer to their impatient teacher.

Tomorrow, he promised himself silently. Tomorrow, I’ll show her who she’s messing with.

“Hey! My name is L/N Y/N, what’s yours?”

Izuku stood silently, staring at the girl’s hand. He looked from her hand to her face repeatedly, before he decided to extend his own.

“M-Midoriya Izuku.”

He was sure the blush he had been repressing had risen to his cheeks, a clear sign of how flustered he was.

After letting go of his hand, Y/N spoke up again.

“You shouldn’t let him treat you that way, you know,” she said, placing her hands on her waist. “He’s just a bully who needs to be taught a lesson.”

The small girl huffed as she frowned at the bushy haired boy.

“Kacchan’s always been like this,” Izuku managed to whisper. “I don’t mind though, he’s my friend.”

The boy’s answer caused her eyes to widen in shock.

“Your friend?” she said. “Friends aren’t supposed to treat you that way!”

“He’s the only friend I have...” Izuku trailed, his eyes starting to water again.

She probably thinks I’m a los-

“No, now you have me.”

Izuku was sure he was about to faint.

Did she just-

“If he ever bothers you again, let me know okay?” her bright smile was back in its place as she grabbed Izuku’s hand.

First, this girl defends him. Then, she offers to be his friend and protect him against the strongest boy he knew.

Izuku was sure he was either hallucinating or asleep.

“W-why would you help me?” Izuku managed to stutter out.

“Because we’re friends now, silly!” Y/N giggled. “Friends always protect each other.”

[AGE: FOURTEEN YEARS OLD]

Izuku shook his head, recalling one of his fondest memories as L/N Y/N sat next to him. She was rambling as usual as their teacher tried to distribute their exam papers.

As much as Izuku loved remembering how he had found his best friend, he couldn’t help but feel guilty.

After the two had become inseparable, Kacchan’s anger towards the young boy had increased a tenfold. This caused Y/N to fall victim to Kacchan’s wrath as well.

And if Izuku didn’t know any better, he was almost certain Kacchan hated Y/N as much as he hated him.

However, the young girl never stopped defending him in any way she could. Her and Bakugo had fought more times than he could count, with Bakugo terrorising anyone who tried to befriend Izuku or the girl.

She was still never as cruel as Bakugo. She dealt with him with her words rather than her fists. Izuku had seen the extent of her Quirk and abilities and knew she was strong - dare he say, as strong as Kacchan - but she never used her skills to torment the blonde boy.

Bakugo was the exact opposite.

Y/N was made fun of constantly but the worst thing Bakugo had done was burn all of her textbooks the previous year. Izuku had watched in horror as the young boy burnt her backpack to crisp, Y/N’s eyes brimming with tears.

And that was when she had snapped.

Izuku had never seen her that angry before yet he still remembered the words she had said that day.

“I hate you, Bakugo Katsuki. I am done trying to be the better person. From now on, if I see you so much as breathe near me, I will not hesitate to let the ground swallow you whole. You’re nothing but a dick,” she had said. “Stay the fuck away from me or you’ll regret it.”

Even since that incident, they hadn’t spoken to each other nor clashed heads. Their rivalry had reached the point of unresolved hatred and Izuku knew that Y/N hadn’t lied back then. Kacchan hadn’t exactly stopped bothering Izuku but he always kept his distance whenever she was with him.

Which meant he had noticed the blatant honesty in her voice as well.

Izuku had asked Y/N if she could actually control her Quirk enough to make the ground swallow people and she had just laughed. Although she was back to normal, he doubted she would really go through with the threat. However, Izuku knew it wasn’t a risk Kacchan was willing to take.

As they sat in class, waiting for the last day of junior high school to end, Izuku was thankful that he had managed to make a friend he knew he could trust with his life.

Beside him, the girl suddenly stopped talking as the teacher approached his podium.

“I would pass out these forms considering it’s your third year at this school,” the teacher paused. “But you’re all going to opt for the Hero Course anyway so what’s the point?”

The class started cheering, excited to finally be able to train for something they’ve always to do.

Y/N and Izuku had always talked about joining the Hero Course together. One of the reasons Izuku had even considered applying to the same school as her was because of how much the girl had pushed him.

“Quirkless or not, you’re still going to be an amazing hero one day Izuku!“ she had said.

After a moment of silence, Izuku spoke up.

“Why? Why do you think I can be a hero without a Quirk?”

The girl raised her gaze to meet his before replying.

“Because you are one of the most bravest people I know. We met because you tried to take on Bakugo without a Quirk and I’ve always admired that about you. Your ability to have the pure guts to take an enemy head on!”

Y/N never failed to make Izuku feel like he was the strongest person in the world, Quirkless or not.

Even now, as their teacher continued, she leaned towards him from her desk.

“We’ll train together later, okay?” she whispered.

Training mostly consisted of Y/N trying to gain better control and precision over her Quirk as Izuku took notes but he didn’t mind.

He wanted to help his best friend get stronger in any way he could.

Nodding slightly, Izuku’s train of thought was interrupted by Kacchan speaking up.

When Bakugo spoke, the entire class knew it was time to shut up. Someone didn’t stop when he was talking once and they ended up getting blown across the school during lunch break.

“No need to put all of us in the same category,” he said, his feet up on his desk. “I don’t plan on aiming low like these extras.”

She kept her head down as she scoffed at his words.

What an arrogant idiot.

“Ah yes, Bakugo. You plan on going to U.A High School right?”

This caused her head to snap back up, eyes wide as she glared at the back of Bakugo’s head.

He’s planning on going there too?

As her classmates around her discussed how difficult her dream school was to get into, Bakugo continued to boast about his achievements.

She felt an uneasy pit settle in her stomach.

As much as she wanted to get into U.A, she couldn’t bear the thought of having to spend the next three years with Bakugo.

And if he found out I was applying along with Izuku, he’d never let-

“L/N and Midoriya, you plan on applying to U.A as well right?”

Y/N buried her head in her hands as the teacher called her out. She knew Izuku was probably stiff as a board besides her as the entire class shifted their eyes towards the two teenagers.

It wasn’t long before the entire class bursted out laughing.

Even though they weren’t laughing at her, Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed in anger.

She knew how hard it had been to convince Izuku to apply to U.A with her but she couldn’t bear the thought of her classmates making fun of her friend.

“You can’t just apply thinking you’ll get in without a Quirk!”

“Like they’d ever take a Quirkless kid like him!”

Before Izuku could respond, Y/N had stood up in her seat.

“Why don’t all of you shut up and mind your own business,” she snapped back at the kids who had made the previous comments.

Everyone else immediately shut up, knowing how protective the girl was of her friend.

“Well Y/N, you do have the best scores in class besides Bakugo. I’m sure you’ll be able to qualify, considering how strong your Quirk is!” the teacher said, trying to diffuse the situation. “As for Midoriya, it doesn’t hurt to try.”

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sat back down.

Izuku gave her a small smile, silently thanking her.

With a subtle thumbs up his way, she went back to waiting for this class to end so she could head home already.

Little did she know, Bakugo had heard the teacher’s comment about her Quirk and his fists had clenched in anger.

He couldn’t believe he might have to deal with her for the next few years of his life. The thought made him angrier by the minute and he knew the only way he could end his frustration was through one thing.

Deku.

Walking back into the classroom to see Bakugo towering over her friend was not something Y/N was happy about. His friends continued to laugh as he snatched something from Izuku’s hands.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

All four teenage boys turned around to face her.

Bakugo’s scowl was instantly replaced with a smug grin.

This was going to be good, he thought. She hadn’t spoken to him for the past year and he had been waiting for her to finally burst. He hadn’t taken her threat lightly but he knew Y/N didn’t have the heart to actually harm anyone.

It was why he found her even more infuriating.

“Oh look, it’s Deku’s little bodyguard,” Bakugo said.

Even though it had been quite long since she’d interacted with him, Y/N was able to calm herself down before taking any action against the blonde boy.

Y/N sighed before walking towards the group. She realised he had taken Izuku’s notebook, one in which he kept all of his tips and tricks to do with all the heroes he had ever heard of. She knew how important it was to him, considering it was the closest thing he had to make him feel like a hero.

“Hand his book over and walk away before I choose to get violent.”

Bakugo seemed to have realised the importance of the notebook as well as his grip tightened around the tattered object.

“No, I think I’m good. Why don’t you try and take it from me?” Bakugo extended his arm towards the girl, his grip still intact on the book.

A year later and he’s still an insolent fool.

The girl’s calmness was slowly starting to fade away and Izuku knew she wouldn’t hesitate this time around.

Shaking his head, he tried to tell her to stop but she didn’t listen.

“I swear I am about to shove a brick up your ass. Give him the notebook back!” Her hand reached out to grab the book but Bakugo was too fast.

He turned on his heels just in time to avoid her, taking a several steps towards the window as she continued to try and grab Izuku’s book.

Bringing both his hands to encase the journal, Y/N immediately realised what he was about to do.

“Bakugo don’t you dare-”

It was too late.

The boy had already burnt the book, flipping it over his shoulder and out the window.

Izuku let out a choked sob as he watched Bakugo burn his dreams to the ground.

Literally.

Y/N’s mouth remained open in shock.

“What happened? Didn’t you say something about the ground swallowing me whole last time?” Bakugo laughed as the girl stood as still as a statue before him.

She hadn’t realised her hands had started shaking out of anger until a brick flew inside through the window.

Bakugo, whose back was facing the window sill, didn’t realise until the brick landed a harsh blow on his head.

“OW! WHAT THE FUCK?”

Scowling, he grabbed the back of his head in pain.

But Y/N wasn’t done.

“What is wrong with you? How can you be so cruel?”

Her hands still hadn’t stopped shaking.

“What did you just say?” Bakugo screamed, taking a step towards her.

“How can you be such a jerk? That notebook was so important to him and you just destroyed it without a second thought,” Y/N’s eyes were now burning with such resentment for him that Bakugo almost stopped in his tracks.

“What is your goddamn problem? WHY DO YOU HATE US SO MUCH?”

This was the first time any of the boys had heard her yell.

Her question rang throughout the empty classroom and Bakugo couldn’t help but bite back with as much severity as he could.

“Because neither of you extras deserves to go to a place like U.A. U.A is a school for people like me. I want to be the number one hero one day and I don’t want anyone, including you two idiots, stopping me.” Bakugo stopped before turning to face Izuku. “If you want to be a hero that badly, why not try swan diving off the roof to get a Quirk in another life?”

Y/N swore she saw red as she jumped towards Bakugo without a second thought.

She managed to land a punch to his face before Izuku had grabbed her arm and pulled her away.

“YOU BITCH!” Bakugo screamed, launching himself at the girl.

“Bakugo, stop! You can’t get into a fight again!”

His friends grabbed both his arms, dragging him towards the classroom’s door.

“JUST WAIT AND WATCH, YOU FUCKING DICK,” Y/N screamed as Izuku struggled to hold her back. “I WILL GET INTO U.A AND BEAT YOUR ASS. THAT’S A PROMISE.”

As Bakugo’s friends practically threw him out of the classroom, Y/N heard his voice call out her name.

“I’d like to see you try.”

TAG LIST: @sizzlingbarbarianglitter

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usermischief · 4 years

Photo

Thanks @sunel0 for the aesthetic! 💖

So, 89 years later, I finally managed to finish the story. Sorry, it took me ages, nonnie. I hope you’re still around, and you’ll enjoy what I came up with.

The prompt was: "We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here."

As per usual, you can find my story on AO3 as well!

the final game

-----

“A little heads-up,” Theo says, slamming the driver’s door shut, “if we get killed, I’ll break up with you.”

Stiles rolls his eyes. “We both know that’s a big fat fucking lie.” Slinging his backpack over his shoulders, he turns to the cabin he’s planning to inhabit for the weekend. “Being the possessive little shithead that you are, you’re probably already scheming how to lock me down for all eternity.” It looks smaller than it did on the website. It’s also in desperate need of a renovation. Or eight. Hopefully, the owner didn’t forget to put the key under the doormat. Because the other option was leaving the door unlocked for them, and although Stiles is ready to deal with a demon, he’s not ready to find himself face to face with a knife-wielding maniac at the back of beyond in the middle of the night. Theo might be supernatural but he’s a heavy sleeper. A couple of weeks ago, Stiles had to kick him five times until he finally got a response. Come to think of it, maybe he ignored him.

The car beeps, and Theo pushes his keys into the pocket of his jacket. “Not if you keep dragging me into bullshit like this for the rest of our lives.” As if he doesn't enjoy their little trips. They both know Theo wouldn't be here if he really didn't want to. Sure, Stiles can be convincing, doesn't mean Theo lets him get away with everything. He’s playing favourites, but he does draw a line.

Sometimes.

A twig snaps underneath his right foot when Stiles marches towards the building. “Oh, come on. It looks charming.” He doesn’t know what’s worse - the door that’s not even going to keep the wind outside if that forecasted storm does come around or the amount of money he paid for the sad excuse of a cabin that’s probably held together by whatever supernatural entity has nothing better to do than terrorise humans.

“It’s haunted,” Theo announces, scowling down at the step creaking under his foot.

Stiles grins and makes an all-encompassing gesture towards the front door. “Nothing bad is going to happen.”

“We’re in an abandoned lodge in the middle of nowhere. Sure, you’re totally right, nothing bad could ever happen here.” Theo grabs his arm before Stiles gets even close to the door. What does he think is going to happen? He won’t be cursed just because he touches the fucking doorknob.

Probably.

But as long as there’s even a one-percent chance of this being true - and some of the reports are pretty damn convincing - Stiles wants to check it out. He knows how to deal with hauntings and curses and whatnot. A random couple who thinks this is nothing but a joke might get in serious danger.

Theo lets out the breath of a long-suffering person. “Need I remind you the last time you dragged me to a haunted place?” Of course, he’s bringing that up again. “We had to burn a painting and almost set the whole place on fire.” The painting was a child’s first attempt at drawing - in his defence, nobody could’ve expected that a piece of watercolour-splattered paper was haunted by the kid’s vengeful spirit - and the whole place was a single curtain smouldering. They managed to put it out before it even really caught on fire.

“That was an accident,” Stiles says, pushing the door open. It creaks ominously, but nothing jumps out at him. Most likely because there’s barely anything in the room aside from a couch on the opposite end of the wall, a dresser to their left with a mirror hanging above it, and a bed in the middle of the room. Good thing he brought his laptop. Seeing that they have WiFi - however that works, they’re in the middle of the woods - they can at least watch a movie. So, there’s that.

Theo, unable to suppress his guard dog mentality, pushes past Stiles and enters the cabin first. “You’re an accident,” he mutters, throwing his backpack onto the bed. A cloud of dust rises into the air, and Theo turns around to glare at him.

Stiles really doesn’t know what he expected. Room service? Although he could’ve sworn he read something about a kitchenette somewhere. “Ok, look at it from the bright side,” he says, closing the door behind him with a smirk, “we’re all by ourselves. No Josh who hysterically cries over Algebra, or Dad who threatens you with a gun every five seconds.” They both know he’d never shoot Theo, but it’s mildly disconcerting either way.

Crossing his arms, Theo continues to stare at him with his negative attitude. “In exchange, we have a malevolent spirit as our roommate.”

“You're being overdramatic.”

“Overdramatic?” Theo drops onto the bed like a dead weight. His shirt hitches up deliciously, revealing the hem of his boxers as well as an inch of slightly tanned skin. He coughs, probably regretting his decision, then props himself up onto his elbows. “I’m just not too into the idea of being haunted.”

Stiles sighs. “I didn’t know you’re such a scaredy-cat.”

“What the hell did you just call me?”

With a smirk, Stiles tosses his backpack to the ground and saunters to the bed. “You clearly heard what I said.”

Theo’s brows climb higher. The treacherous twitch of his lips makes it hard to take him seriously. “And you clearly don’t want to take the risk of repeating yourself.”

Stiles huffs out a breath. They probably should take a look around first, get a feeling for the place and all that jazz - but it’s hard to concentrate on anything else when Theo is looking like that. Really, really hard. “You don’t have to worry,” he says, sitting down on his thighs, “I won’t make a deal with a demon.” At least not purposefully, but, if the necessity arises, he’s not going to make any promises.

Theo looks him straight in the eye. “You are exactly the type of person who’d accidentally sell his soul to the devil."

“That-” Stiles closes his mouth and squints at Theo. “Okay… maybe you’re not completely wrong.” There has been that funny incident with the witches trying to summon some kind of demon from the underworld. It's not Stiles' fault that weird little gnome decided it would rather follow him than those who dragged it into their world. It was cute. Stiles is still sad they had to banish it. The little bugger might have been useful.

Theo wraps his arms around him with a chuckle. "I don't really have to worry about you," he says, pressing his mouth against his throat for a moment. "Any demon would annul every contract within a week because you are a fucking nuisance."

Stiles scrunches up his nose. "Doesn't make you love me any less."

"It doesn't make you any less annoying either." Wow, rude. Very rude. Abysmally rude. But Theo runs a hand up to his back, buries his fingers in the strands of his hair, and kisses him. Soft. Just lips brushing against his lips. A test. A tease. Stiles cups his neck with both hands, tilting Theo’s head up with his thumbs. He can feel his mouth quirk into a smirk mere moments before teeth bite down on his bottom lip. Just for a second, then Theo runs his tongue over his bottom lip.

Stiles melts against him, opens his mouth, silently demanding more, so much more. Theo is the only person who manages to turn him into pudding in his hands. Fingers dance along the hem of his shirt, slip underneath the warm fabric at the same time as his tongue slips past his parted lips. He shouldn't be so easy, but fucking hell, he can't help it.

Theo pulls back just enough that he's able to talk, "we should probably make sure this thing is storm proof."

Groaning, Stiles hides his face in the crook of Theo's neck. He doesn't want to get up. Ghost hunting really doesn't sound too appealing any longer, now that he has Theo all to himself. But he's right. The storm that’s coming their way is not the kind you should be in the middle of the woods for. Wind. Thunder and lightning. Rain. Stiles isn’t exactly the biggest fan of thunderstorms. Not even in the slightest. Theo’s going to mock him forever; afraid of a thunderstorm, ready to kick a demon’s butt - welcome to Stiles’ world. He certainly has his priorities straight.

After pressing a kiss to the shell of his ear, Theo throws him off his lap and onto the bed.

“Rude,” Stiles informs him with a scowl, but Theo only flips him off and walks towards the front door. That, most likely, will be their biggest problem for the night. If that thing rattles as much as Stiles guesses it will do, there won't be much sleep to be had tonight. Luckily, he has other ideas.

With a sigh, he falls back into the pillows, forgetting the dust and most certainly not expecting the edge of something hard slamming into his spine. He yelps and sits back up again, trying to reach his poor abused spine with a hand. Fucking- "ow."

"How," Theo asks, turning around with an exasperated sigh, "do you manage to hurt yourself sitting on a bed?" There's no need to make it sound like he's a human disaster.

Stiles frowns. "There's something underneath the pillows." Something that clearly has it out for him. Rolling onto his stomach, he pushes himself up onto one elbow and yanks the pillow away. His eyes widen. “Oh,” he breathes, excitement coursing through him. “This is amazing.” Scratch that. It’s better than amazing.

Scrambling into a cross-legged position, Stiles pulls an Ouija game onto his lap. Without further ado, he opens it and tosses the lid off the bed to grab the planchette. It’s heavy and looks ancient, with little fissures in the wood and cracked glass in the middle of the planchette. Judging by the colourful packaging, Stiles expected something made out of plastic.

“Oh, no,” Theo says, crossing the room immediately. “No. No. Put that down.” He reaches for the planchette which Stiles moves quickly out of reach. “Give that- Stiles.” Werewolf strength is nothing against longer limbs. At least until Theo decides that he really wants this planchette. Flashing his eyes - something he so often does when being fed up with what he calls stupidly reckless behaviour - Theo grabs the board instead.

Stiles quirks his brow with a scoff. “You don’t really think these things work, do you?” His boyfriend’s superstitious behaviour is getting ridiculous. Last time they went to the mall with the pack, Theo prevented him from walking underneath a ladder. It’s hard to judge if he truly is that superstitious or if his protective streak is without limits when it comes to Stiles. Sometimes it makes him feel as if he’s some sort of tiny toddler unable to survive on his own.

“The last time you said that Bloody Mary tried to pull us through a mirror.” Well, she technically wanted to scratch out their eyes and then steal their souls, but he’s probably not making a good argument by correcting Theo.

He waves his hand around. “This is different,” Stiles explains, turning the planchette around in his hand. “When you play your brain may unconsciously make up answers to your questions. It’s called the ideomotor effect.”

“I think it’s called ‘Don’t tempt fate, you fucking idiot’.” Do people overhearing them think they’re an actual couple? Because sometimes they don’t exactly act the part. Other times, however, they make up more than enough for it.

Stiles tosses the planchette in the air, fails to catch it, but hauls it close again before Theo can even move a muscle. “It’s like flinching in your sleep.”

“I know what the ideomotor effect is,” Theo replies, motioning for Stiles to give up the planchette. “I’m also highly aware of what the dissociative identity effect is because I happen to listen even when you go off at a tangent.”

It sounds like a hidden insult, Theo is good with backhanded compliments, yet Stiles grins broadly. Although granted, having a smart partner can be infuriating, he enjoys it much, much more. Intelligence is really fucking attractive and kind of necessary. He can't simply bullshit his way out of stuff. Theo pays attention to detail. Running him in circles is not impossible, but it involves a lot more planning. He has an easier time with Scott. He has a much, much harder time with Lydia. She's the nightmare mode in every video game. One hit and you're done for.

"Okay, but this is different," Stiles says, wincing at his weak attempt at convincing his boyfriend.

Theo gestures briefly. Elaborate, the slow circle his hand draws in the air orders, please, I'm all ears. Once he has caught a scent of Stiles trying to bullshit him, there's nothing he can do to throw him off.

Shit. Stiles bites the inside of his cheek, gaze darting briefly to the board then back up to Theo. "Well," he says, pressing his tongue against his upper lip and watching Theo's brows climb high and higher, "it is different in so far that you don't control the mirror."

Theo crosses his arms. "That's what the dissociative identity effect says. The brain's facial-recognition misfires. But Bloody Mary still tried to kill us."

"Yeah but-"

"Both times, science tries to explain the phenomenon away by saying your brain either misfires or makes shit up," Theo continues sternly and narrows his eyes. Speaking negatively about science must kill him. "But they were wrong about Bloody Mary. That's-" he waves the Ouija board through the air "-a fifty/fifty chance we're not risking."

"It's sexy when you talk about yourself in the plural majestatis," Stiles says, wiggling his brows. The time to distract Theo with anything even remotely suggestive has long passed, but it can't hurt to try it regardless.

When they started dating, his friends weren't exactly ecstatic, especially Scott warned him about Theo possibly dragging him down the wrong path. Malia hasn't spoken to him since, so he can only assume she's not particularly happy about the development. Lydia, albeit ready to give Theo the benefit of the doubt, reminded Stiles to be careful. His dad told him that perhaps he would be a good influence on Theo. Funny story, though, Theo is not the bad influence in their relationship. It's Stiles who constantly drags him into shit, and Theo accompanying him dutifully is only a testament to how much he loves him.

Stiles is going to make it up to him soon.

But not now.

"Okay, how about-"

"No," Theo insists.

Stiles hates when he does that. "You don't even know what I wanted to say."

Theo smiles, but it's exhausted and almost a little bitter. "We are not going to test it and say goodbye the moment the planchette moves." That asshole. Can chimeras read minds? Is that a thing? The guy constantly knows what's going through his head. Either Stiles is painfully predictable, or Theo is a bigger creep than previously anticipated.

Pouting, Stiles tosses the planchette back on the box. "Fine. Be a spoilsport."

"This has nothing to do with being a spoilsport, babe." Theo grabs the box and looks a little surprised at how easily Stiles lets him, but he knows when he's lost, okay? Even he understands that sometimes he has to call quits and try another day. Maybe he can convince Theo to play it when they're not in the middle of nowhere. Huh. He'll keep that in mind. "I'm going to burn that, all right? Please, just-" he gestures with his hand to where Stiles sits "-stay there. Don't move. No exploring until I'm back."

"Yeah, yeah," Stiles mutters, crossing his arms. Sometimes he forgets how utterly boring Theo can be when it comes to things that may or may not be a bit risky.

The door clicks shut behind Theo, and Stiles plops onto his back with a sigh. Not that he wants to complain much, but Theo was a lot more fun before they got together. He did so much shit just to be close to him. He still does a lot of shit, but now it's so Stiles doesn't accidentally do something that'll end up killing him. Which is fair. Still-

Stiles blinks and pushes himself onto his elbows, craning his neck for a better view. Is that what he thinks it is? He squints. Yes. There's the little metal plate with a tiny hook. It looks as if someone painted it over. But paint only lasts for so long. Stiles grins. This house has an attic. Nobody ever said this house has an attic. Brilliant. Now he just needs to figure out how to open this thing. If he gets on his tiptoes on the very edge of the bed he might be able to reach it.

Throwing pillows onto the ground to prepare for the worst - listen, Theo is overprotective, but it's not as if his worry comes from nothing - and tests his footing carefully. The wood holds. So, that's something. Now, he just needs to reach the small hook. Placing one hand on the ceiling, Stiles stands on his tiptoes and leans forward. The tips of his fingers grace the metal. Yes. He can do that. Just an inch. He's missing just an- his fingers close around the hook. Yes.

Stiles tugs at it and immediately loses his grip. Fuck. He needs more leverage. Maybe something he can use as a-

The door slams shut with a bang. “What the hell are you doing?”

Flailing about, Stiles manages to save himself and falls back onto the bed. "Uh-" one glance at Theo reveals that he is furious. His boyfriend rarely looks at him and works his jaw as if he's suppressing the urge to maim him.

"Five minutes," Theo says, gesturing wildly towards the door, "I'm gone five minutes and you-" his knuckles turn white as he clenches his fist. His biceps probably shouldn't be as distracting as they are right now. "I asked you to wait. It's the one thing I asked you to do and you're not listening." This is not great. Not at all.

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry isn't going to help me when you're dead," Theo remarks sharply and crosses the room. His shoulders are rigid, his blue eyes hard. "Every fucking time I turn around, I find you next to something that can kill you." Theo works his fingers through his hair.

It is probably not the best idea to tell him that an attic door won't kill him. Stiles is most definitely missing some kind of point. Theo worries about him. That's fair. Maybe he is overreacting. Maybe Stiles should be more careful. He swallows and gets to his feet. "I'm…"

"Sorry?" Theo keeps staring at him, exhaustion and anger making him look older than he is. During times like this, all the shit the Dread Doctors put him through is visible all at once - and Stiles hates it. He hates it with a passion. When he sees Theo like that, he wants to kill these punks all over again, wants to smooth out the lines ruining Theo’s pretty face, and hold him close until everything is okay again. But the thing is, Stiles is the cause of this. Not a nightmare, not the Dread Doctors. Stiles. "Doesn't mean much if you keep doing the same shit all over again." Theo's words are underlined by the growl of thunder in the not so far distance.

They both turn around and look out the window. Since the house is on a clearing, nothing obscures the view of the lightning bolt zapping over the sky.

Theo reaches for his hand. Stiles squeezes it tightly. They have never really fought. They never had an argument either of them lost any sleep over, most likely because they’re constantly bickering anyway. Stiles’ reckless curiosity is the only thing pissing Theo off to an extent that can be considered serious, and sometimes, when one of their trips is over, Theo snaps at him. Depending on the severity, it can take up to an hour. Stiles lets him vent, gives him the time and space to get everything off his chest, and when that’s done, Stiles apologises.

Then does it all over again.

Hearing that Theo knows it; that he’s aware of this pattern is like a slap in the face. Stiles didn’t know. He didn’t realise that he has been doing this. He’s aware that he’s been a bit too fixated on the whole supernatural business in the last few weeks. Natalie had to talk to his dad because teachers were noticing Stiles’ inattention. They worry his grades will suffer if he keeps being distracted during classes. His dad asked him to focus on school as long as there’s no supernatural threat in their town, but Stiles has trouble returning to his normal, very unsupernatural life.

That, however, he has realised, and with spring recess not too far away, Stiles made a plan. He lets go of Theo’s hand and reaches for his backpack. “I got something for you,” he says quietly, rummaging through its contents in a mild panic. He put it in. He distinctly remembers that he did.

"Is it a haunted object?" Theo asks, crossing his arms.

Stiles purses his lips. "No," he replies without any heat and finally produces the envelope he's been looking for. Thank god. "I got you this." The relief and nervous energy forces him to sit down on the edge of the bed.

Theo squints at it before taking it in his hands pretending he just received a letter bomb. He’s such an overdramatic fucker sometimes. "Is this a howler?"

"No," Stiles says, gesturing to the envelope, "just open it, you closet nerd."

After tapping the paper with his finger for a few heartbeats, Theo follows the instruction, sitting down next to him. As he studies the plane tickets, the anticipated excitement doesn’t come. Instead, Theo draws his eyebrows together, and when he looks up, a smile is nowhere near his lips. Great. Too soon? It’s too soon, isn’t it? “Are we hunting Dracula?”

Stiles blinks. “What?”

Rolling his eyes, Theo pushes the tickets back into the envelope. “I don’t need you wasting your money on this shit.”

“Dude,” Stiles breathes, poking his boyfriend’s forehead with a chuckle, “Dracula lived in Transilvania.”

Theo curls his lips.

“That’s in Romania, you dimwit. How did you pass Geography?”

“Europe has a lot of countries, okay?” Theo scrunches up his nose as if he’d smelled something bad and crosses his arms again like a petulant toddler. That’s adorable, but not particularly helpful. He keeps pouting, even as Stiles wraps his arms around his shoulders and presses a kiss to his cheek. “Fine,” Theo mutters, “what are we hunting in Poland?”

With a sigh, Stiles lets go of his boyfriend. Sure, he deserves the treatment. He deserves to be second-guessed, it’s still kind of a bummer that the only connection Theo makes to Poland is a supernatural creature they could be hunting instead of what’s actually important. “You’re hunting,” he mutters, scratching the side of his nose with his index finger, “mostly after Bacia’s approval. She’s fiercely protective of me. Dziadek already loves you. I have no idea why.”

Theo doesn’t immediately respond. Out of the corner of his eye, Stiles sees him pull out the ticket again. He stares at it, twists, and turns it as if he’s not sure whether he’s hallucinating the whole thing. Fucking hell, is it that bad with him? "Your grandparents wanna meet me?" Theo asks very slowly, still staring at the ticket in amazement. “Why do your grandparents want to meet me?”

Stiles squints. “Because we’re dating?” Is he missing something? He really has the feeling that he’s missing something.

“They know about me?”

Slowly but surely, Stiles has the strange feeling he ended up in an alternative universe. The guy has zero trouble to mark him up and show him around and make sure people can see they are in a very committed relationship, but the fact that Stiles’ grandparents know they’re dating somehow throws him for a loop. What a weirdo. "Of course, they know," he says, unable to hide the grin spreading on his lips, "they asked me, and I told them."

Theo licks his lips. "Huh."

"Huh?"

"How did they react?"

Stiles quirks a brow. "To?"

"To you dating a guy."

“I know you think it’s sappy, but they’re happy as long as I am. Pretty sure they wouldn't even mind your furry problem," Stiles replies, pulling his shoulders up for a slow shrug. Despite their old age, his grandparents were the first people who learned that Stiles is bisexual. For some reason, they're easier to talk to than the people he has to live with. They were the first to learn about Theo, which was solely because Stiles needed to tell someone, and they were perfect seeing they have not a single clue of the shitstorm Theo caused.

"Do they know about Malia?"

Stiles squirms a little. "No." They're entering dangerous territory.

Theo tosses the envelope on the nightstand and pulls Stiles closer by the collar of his shirt. "Why not?" A grin tugs on his lips; one that makes Stiles want to kiss and punch him at the same time.

He runs his fingers through Theo’s hair instead. “You want me to tell them?”

Theo kisses him, and Stiles doesn’t waste a second. Heat shoots through his veins like a lightning strike. He buries his fingers in the short strands of his hair, bites his bottom lip when Theo grabs his ass and pulls him on his lap. Perfect, this is much more enjoyable than whatever happened a few minutes ago. On any other day, Stiles would’ve probably reprimanded Theo about his slightly possessive streak, about this refusal to acknowledge there have been other people before him - but right now he’s too occupied with everything else going on that he’s willing to drop the topic.

It doesn’t take long for their shirts to hit the dusty ground, for hot skin to press against hot skin. Although they’ve been dating for about half a year, they weren’t intimate as often as they would’ve liked to be. Mostly because neither lives alone. His dad must have a sixth sense for this shit. With impeccable timing, he manages to always knock on his door whenever Theo and Stiles decide to have some fun. When they’re at Theo’s place, either Josh or Tracy somehow manage to ruin the mood. While Tracy is doing that intentionally, Josh has continuous school-related breakdowns. Now, that he can’t be high all the time, he decided that having a degree is a good idea. It’s hard to get in the mood while hearing hysterical sobbing through the wall.

But now, they’re alone.

Completely fucking alone.

And Stiles intends to use that.

Theo, however, is faster. He easily flips them around and pulls Stiles completely onto the bed. Sliding his right leg between his thighs, Theo leans over him with a downright animalistic grin on his lips. He kisses Stiles’ shoulder, probably fully aware of the chaotic heat he just elicited with this bit of rough handling - that Theo figured out how much he enjoys being manhandled a week into their relationship is simultaneously the best and worst thing that could’ve happened.

“I want to be the only one,” he says in a low voice, a whisper but too loud, a growl but not quite. His fingers dance along the waistband of Stiles’ pants. The grin turns mischievous, yet the glint in his eyes tells him Theo means every single word. “I intend to stay the only one.” And he certainly intends to ruin him for everyone else.

Theo knows exactly which buttons to push, which parts of his body to pay attention to the most. He leaves hickeys wherever he wants to, marks him for the world to see, makes him his territory. With his fingers inside of him, his lips wrapped around his dick, Theo gave him almost everything Stiles' wants. But it's not enough. It's never enough until Theo sinks into him and fucks him with slow but hard thrusts. Harder than usual. The anger of their conversation bubbles to the surface. He fucks him, and he holds him. He loves him, and he breaks him until Stiles' brain is muddy, and everything he can think about is Theo.

Theo

Theo.

-----

Stiles startles awake because of something. He doesn’t know what caused it. The thunderstorm has calmed down to a quiet rumble in the distance. Rain remains to slam against the windows, however, that’s not what woke him up. It’s something else. Something that causes dread to pool in his stomach. He swallows drily, noticing the wrongness of the situation more and more.

With trembling fingers, Stiles reaches behind him, finding Theo’s warm body close to him. It calms his nerves a bit. Maybe he had a weird dream. Maybe he just- no. It’s not a dream. Someone is staring at him. He can feel their gaze burying in the back of his head. A cold shudder runs down his spine. Stiles tries his best to ignore the instinct to pull his blanket over his head and squeeze his eyes shut. Someone is inside this cabin, and there’s no way a blanket will protect him. Stiles grew up with horror stories because he read police reports. He continues to live a horror story. At one point, he grew out of hiding under his blanket.

Stiles nudges Theo with his foot, trying to wake him up without causing much of a scene. Then again, if Theo is still sleeping there’s no way someone can be in here with them. His stomach rolls. Stiles takes a deep breath and reaches for his nightstand, fumbling for the light switch. Once he finds it, Stiles curls his fingers around it and takes another deep breath. One, two- he flicks the light on before he can count to three and sits up.

The room is empty.

Stiles huffs out a breath. He should know better than to trust himself after having just woken up. That's never a good thing. His mind goes to dark places when he sleeps even if he doesn't always remember it. Shaking his head, Stiles sinks back into the covers and closes his eyes. He's not even tired anymore, and he's really not a fan of that. Although Theo told him he could wake him up whenever Stiles feels bad doing so. Neither of them is great with sleep, and the last thing he wants to do is taking that away from Theo. Surely he can keep himself busy until his boyfriend wakes up.

This cabin in the middle of nowhere has Wi-Fi after all, and he brought his laptop.

With a sigh, Stiles rolls onto his side and reaches for his backpack. That's when he sees it. The old wooden planchette sits on top of his backpack, its glass innocently twinkling in the light of the nightlamp. That's- that thing shouldn't be here. Why is it here? How is it here? Theo burnt it. He destroyed it. He-

The sensation of someone staring at him returns. Stiles goes cold all over, shuddering again, and squeezes his eyes shut. Okay. He knows what he has to do. Taking a deep breath, Stiles opens his eyes and grabs the planchette. There's a part of him that keeps on reminding him this is nothing more than a children's game. He won't see anything when he looks through the planchette, but he still should make sure. Stiles licks his dry lips then raises the planchette to his face.

A little girl is sitting right in front of him, pale and bloody, half her face missing.

Stiles jolts away from her with a yelp, flying off the bed.

"Stiles?" Theo is awake and alert within a second. "Stiles!" Almost immediately, he’s next to him, arms tightly wrapped around his shoulders and waist. "It's just a dream," Theo whispers, pressing his lips to his temple. "It's-"

"It's not a dream," Stiles whispers, heart hammering against his chest. "There's a girl here with us." A dead girl. A ghost.

Theo pulls away. "Babe-"

"No, Theo," he interrupts him, knowing exactly what he plans on saying. There can't be anybody here because his supernatural senses don't pick anything up aside from themselves. "I saw her," he insists before Theo has even the chance to voice his doubts. "Through the planchette. Theo, I-"

"The planchette?" Theo echoes and his tone is a lot sharper than only seconds before. "Did you get it back?" He reaches for the planchette on the bed, knuckles white around.

Stiles brushes Theo's hand off. "I thought you burnt it."

"I was going to until I saw you trying to break your neck getting into the attic!"

Narrowing his eyes, Stiles crosses his arms. "I did not go outside and grab the fucking planchette," he tells him in a low voice. "You really think I would after what you told me last night?"

Theo’s expression softens almost immediately. "No. No, you wouldn't." While Stiles might be a reckless idiot, he isn't a total dick. "That still doesn't explain how this thing got in here."

"She did it." Stiles insists, pointing to the bed.

Theo opens and closes his mouth for a few seconds then he cups Stiles’ neck with one hand. "Have you been sleepwalking again?" His expression grows concerned, and while that's not an impossible option, Stiles couldn't have been outside. It's still raining. He would've been wet, but somehow, his dear boyfriend entirely misses that fact.

"Theo," Stiles says, exasperatedly slapping away his hand again, and grabs his shoulder. "There's the ghost of an approximately seven-year-old girl with half a face in this room." He grabs the planchette, but Theo yanks it out of his hand immediately, concern yielding anger. "Look through it. Look through it. I’m not making this shit up.”

Drawing his eyebrows together, Theo contemplates him for a few seconds. He doesn’t look convinced, and although Stiles doesn’t blame him, it is infuriating that after everything people still aren’t taking his word for granted. Sure, there have been times when he was overreacting, and anything related to the Ouija board isn’t exactly the strongest argument for the supernatural considering all the bullshit one can find on the internet.

Still.

After a moment, Theo sighs and raises the planchette to his eyes. Silence settles between them, and Stiles knows the answer before Theo lowers the planchette again. It’s obvious in the slight curls of his lips, the worry flickering in his blue eyes.

“I saw a little girl.”

Theo places the planchette on the bed. “I don’t doubt that,” he says very carefully. His next words are more than predictable, “but maybe you haven’t been fully awake when it happened.”

Of course. Of fucking course. Stiles really isn’t surprised about Theo trying to find a very unsupernatural explanation for something very supernatural. Under different circumstances, Stiles might’ve even fallen for it, or rather, might’ve accepted it as a potential explanation. However, there is one glaring flaw in Theo’s little theory. “How did the planchette get back in?”

Working his jaw, Theo stares at the planchette for a few moments. "I don't know," he mutters, getting to his feet without looking at Stiles again. Instead, he surveys the room then grinds his teeth. "It's not just the planchette." His shoulders are a rigid line as he curls his hands into fists.

Stiles pushes himself to his feet as well, spotting the Ouija board sitting innocently on the doormat. “Something wants to talk.”

“No.”

“What if it’s the little girl?”

“Stiles,” Theo warns.

But he remains persistent. “What if she needs help?”

A moment of silence passes. With a sigh, Theo rolls his eyes. Stiles tries not to fistbump the air. “The moment something weird’s going on, we stop.”

-----

There aren’t as many potential security measures they can take, but it’s most likely just a little girl - what’s the worst that can happen, right? They’ve settled back onto the bed, facing each other. When Theo places the planchette on the board, he does it with one of the deepest scowls Stiles has ever seen on his face. Regardless, they both place a finger on the wooden triangle.

Stiles looks up and at Theo, smiling a little. Despite everything, his smile is reciprocated - fond even if exhausted. It’s good to know that Theo will always be working alongside him no matter how annoyed he is at times. Theo’s unending loyalty is something Stiles values the most. The words I love you almost rolled off his tongue, but now isn’t the time to reassure Theo. It’s only going to ignite a spark of nervous energy, a certain sense of doom, of something bad to come. Even though he’s doubtful when it comes to the Ouija board, Stiles is very aware that any energy that could be considered bad is nothing to start a session with.

“Okay,” Stiles says, taking a deep breath. “Is anybody here with us?”

Theo purses his lips. Stiles bites down on his own. He doesn’t know what he wants to happen. A response? Silence? Swallowing, Stiles bounces his leg a little. He glances at Theo who stares at the board with narrow eyes. It’s not hard to figure out what he’ll hope is going to happen.

The planchette moves to yes.

Theo grinds his teeth. It says a lot that neither of them asks if the other is bullshitting them. They both know they’d never do something like that. They don’t fuck around with the supernatural. It’s way too dangerous to do that, and as much as they aren’t afraid of confrontation, they will not prank each other nor are they intending to piss an entity off. It’s the least they can do before banishing them to the underworld - or wherever they go back to.

Stiles clears his throat. “Are you the little girl I saw through the planchette?”

For a second, the planchette doesn’t move. Then it shifts away from yes and back again.

Stiles opens his mouth, shakes his head, and closes it again. He knows the rules of this game. Never ask ‘How did you die?’ as to not piss the ghost off. To be fair, it makes sense. Nobody wants to talk about how they’ve died. Stiles bites his bottom lip, studying Theo’s tense shoulders for a second. “How old are you?” he asks instead, hoping that if he can make the ghost feel comfortable, it’ll tell them whatever they need to know.

The planchette crawls across the board until it settles on the number three.

What? Stiles draws his eyebrows together, trying to ignore the anxiety crawling up his spine. That’s not correct, right? Although he saw the girl only for the flicker of a second, she looked like a little girl, not a toddler. Stiles bites his bottom lip, glances at Theo then around the room.

“Stiles?” Theo asks, raising his brows.

He shakes his head. “No, how old were you when you died?” The question definitely toes the line of being disrespectful, but perhaps the ghost simply misunderstood his first one. Maybe it thought he wanted to know how long it’s dead. It’s possible, even though the dread pooling in Stiles’ stomach tells a whole other story.

The planchette doesn’t move immediately, almost as if the ghost noticed the change of energy surrounding Stiles. Eventually, however, it shifts to the number four.

Stiles presses his lips in a thin line and raises his free hand, holding up a single finger. One more question, just one more to make absolutely sure the thing they’re talking to isn’t what he thinks it is. “What do you want?”

This time, the planchette flies over the board. It stops briefly on the M then zips over to the A, back to the M, and back to the A.

Please, don’t.

Stiles holds his breath, hoping against all odds that the planchette will stop there, that it is just a little dead girl looking for his mother although everything points in a different direction. If they manage to catch the Ouija board demon the first time they’re using one, Theo is going to lose it.

“Ma-” Theo begins, but Stiles stops him mid-word, pressing his free hand over his mouth. Not saying anything, he simply shakes his head. At the same time, the planchette moves back to M again. That’s what it keeps doing. M, A. M, A. M, A. M. A. Without pause. Without hesitation.

“Goodbye,” Stiles says, pulling his hand from Theo’s mouth.

The planchette doesn’t stop moving.

“I said goodbye,” he repeats firmer this time.

It still doesn’t stop. Something moves in his peripheral vision. This time, Stiles isn’t the only one who saw it. Theo whips his head around, his finger almost slipping from the planchette as he does. In the last second, Stiles grabs his wrist to keep it from happening. They can't make a mistake right now. The moment they’ve said goodbye, they’ll have to break the Ouija board in seven pieces and burn it.

Fuck. they should probably burn the whole house down with it. If Stiles could see a little girl before they even opened the channel, this thing has infected the whole place, and once it gets strong enough. It can do real damage without the board. Destroying the cabin might be the only way to protect others.

“I said goodbye.”

The planchette finally stops but refuses to move to goodbye on its own. Lights flicker. Theo’s phone goes off on the nightstand.

Oh, this is really bad.

“Goodbye,” Theo says in a low growl.

Something laughed.

“Goodbye!” Stiles yells, dragging the planchette down to the word by himself. His fingers are still curled tightly around Theo’s wrist, but he doesn’t have to ask him for his help. The second he understands what’s happening, it becomes a hell of a lot easier to move the planchette. Still, Stiles keeps his hold on Theo until he’s letting go of the planchette himself.

Just in case.

Something slams against the front door and Stiles jumps. His heart hammers against his chest. “Break it,” he says, pushing the board in Theo’s direction. “You have to break it seven times. Holy number. Salt would be great, but this should be enough. Fuck. Fucking fuck.” Stiles hates being right. He really does. Sure, it could be something else pretending to be Zozo, but Stiles isn’t going to take that risk.

Theo doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. Without hesitation, he gets off the bed and grabs the board, breaking it in two.

Dropping the planchette, Stiles scrambles off the bed and grabs his backpack. He throws in everything in the near vicinity. Thankfully, they haven’t thrown around their clothes this time and instead dropped everything in front of the bed like normal people. That makes this a lot easier.

A lightbulb explodes. Stiles yelps, ducking his head as the world darkens significantly on his side of the bed. Okay, someone really isn’t at all happy about what they’re doing. Not that they’re doing much. To be perfectly honest, breaking the board and burning it only stops it from following them home. What comes after is what’s most definitely going to really piss it off.

Stiles throws his backpack over his shoulder and rushes to the other side of the bed. Theo is tossing the remaining pieces of the board onto the bed. Before he can grab his backpack, Stiles yanks it off the floor and pulls out a bottle of hairspray. He laughed at Theo when he saw him take it with him earlier today, now he’s exceptionally grateful that he did. Hairspray is an exceptional fire accelerant if it needs to be.

“Lighter,” he says, but Theo rips the bottle out of his hand and presses the car keys in his hand instead.

The second lightbulb explodes, sending little shards everywhere.

“Wait in the car.”

“Theo-”

“Wait in the car!” Theo repeats, showing him towards the door.

Stiles stumbles backwards, flailing as he tries to keep his balance from failing him completely. The front door helps him from falling, but the knob in his lower back makes the whole process a lot more painful. Again, he could’ve sworn to see a shadow creeping around in his peripheral vision while he is watching Theo flicking open his lighter. He fumbles with the doorknob for a few seconds, knowing better than to test Theo’s patience, and flings the door open.

The rain is unforgivingly cold, and Stiles is instantly reminded that he’s neither wearing shoes nor clothes aside from boxershorts. He almost falls down the slippery stairs. Holding onto the railing would’ve probably been helpful, but the last thing he needs is a splinter or a rusty nail cutting his hand open. He’s not sure his tetanus shot is up to date, and he really doesn’t want to risk it.

Flames light up the dark window of the cabin as Stiles sprints across the grass. The car beeps, an unnaturally loud sound in the silence, and rips the door open, throwing in his backpack. He doesn’t get in. Instead, he turns around again, trying to see Theo. His chest constricts when he doesn’t immediately spot him. Before Stiles could even think about rushing back, however, his boyfriend bursts out of the door and vaults the porch’s railing.

Stiles hops in the car and slams the door shut, tossing Theo the car key the second he’s in the driver’s seat.

The fire causes havoc inside the cabin.

“What the fuck,” Theo asks starting the car, “was that?”

"A demon."

Huffing out a breath, Theo throws the car in reverse. "A demon," he echoes in a mocking tone, turning the car around so quickly, Stiles' stomach lurches rather unhappily, "a fucking demon, why not?" Shaking his head, he shifts gears and puts his foot down, clearly wanting to have as much distance between them and the cabin as fast as possible.

Stiles reaches for the car heater and turns it on high. "Yeah… just our luck, huh?" he asks, holding his hands in front of the ventilation. The air is still cool.

Theo grabs his hand and intertwines their fingers. "Remind me to put Ouija boards on the 'over my dead body' list."

Laughing, Stiles squeezes his hand and sinks deeper into the passenger's seat. They've got a lot of explaining to do once the owner notices the state of his cabin, but coming up with excuses for that can wait. "Wasn't there a motel not too far from the woods?" Stiles asks, trying not to yawn.

This time, Theo squeezes his hand. "Go to sleep, I'll wake you when I've found a place to stay."

Stiles hums and closes his eyes. "I love you… and thanks for putting up with me."

Theo chuckles. "I love you too."

#steo #steo fanfiction #steo fanfic #stiles stilinski #theo raeken #teen wolf #teen wolf fanfiction #steo prompt #mystories

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literatehiss · 4 years

Text

Promising Futures

Read on AO3 here

Peter and Simon interact with the children in their lives. It was inevitable really. If you adopted a lot of people of varying ages, eventually one of them was either going to already have children, or would have kids after he had adopted them into the Fairchilds. Which meant that Simon had an awful lot of “grandchildren”.

He sipped on a Sangria as dawn began to break, the sun rising over the mountaintops that surrounded the Fairchild mansion. He hummed in acknowledgement as one of the fine young men he had pulled into the family, stumbled downstairs for a coffee and a half-toasted piece of bread. He was part of their space-faring efforts which meant a lot of long nights that Simon was very glad he had no part of. Clinging to the man’s leg was scrawny looking child whose favourite thing in the world was to be flung around and onto soft surfaces at high speed, a chore Simon was always happy to fulfil. And with their appearance, it signalled the start of the only reason Simon ever came back to the mansion for anything more that to store the things he collected.

A veritable army of children and young teenagers would scarf down their breakfast and leave their parents and their boring conversations to go spend time with “grandpa” Simon. He rarely came home and, between other avatars and his victims, he didn’t often spend time with people who wanted to be around him. The youngest ones in particular, who were still getting the hang of their motor skills and so greatly enjoyed being thrown around, were a particular favourite of his. Children also had a peculiar enjoyment of terrible, terrible stories and half of his antics with the people he terrorised were just so he had a fun story for the kids. With one child hanging off his arm, Simon started telling the children the tale of a young man, his mother, and a journey up a mountain.

Peter woke up to the sound of his wonderful privacy and peace being interrupted by the door of his bedroom being cracked open slightly. He glared at the small form who had decided to bother him, the child squeaking in fear and panic before running away. He groaned and turned back over, intending to sleep a little bit longer.

Knock knock.

Peter swore violently at the door and scowled at his sister’s laugh as it came through the door.

Elias had changed the damn locks, the Tundra was having repairs done and he just couldn’t be doing with Moorland House unless he was summoned there, so the only other option was someone who had come into his life very recently.

Forty years after he had last seen her; his older sister, Lizzie, had tracked him down and invited herself into his life. She had been one of the ones who had left the family and the sounds of happy children was not a natural sound to Peter’s ears. But she was happy to have him stay over for as long as he liked and was understanding enough about his more “introverted nature”, as she had put it.

He rolled out of bed, cracked open the window and packed a pipe, deciding not to leave the room until he had inhaled enough nicotine to make him feel less homicidal.

Simon walked through the mansion, one of the pint sized army on his shoulders as he lead the procession through the halls. He was very nonchalant as he walked passed the swimming pool, before he chucked the child on his shoulders into the water. He was surrounded by laughter and cheering as the child crawled out of the pool, clothes sopping wet. A wide grin on her face.

He couldn’t help but sigh. The adults, the avatars that he actually brought into the family, had a more detailed and thorough understanding of their patron, but they just lost the joy of it all. An adult sensibility causing them to see it as a duty, an enjoyable duty, but not something they sought out for their won enjoyment. They found joy in the screams and fear, which was valid, he admitted, so did he, but they lost the sheer exhilaration of falling. The feeling of the wind rushing through your hair and your breath catching in your throat. The children though, they delighted in their own fear, in the sensation of it all and he couldn’t help but be charmed by it.

Peter accepted the cup of coffee from his sister gratefully, trying to ignore the gaggle of children that were peering at him from the doorway. Their mother had firmly told them to leave their “Uncle Peter” alone. Which obviously did nothing but make them more curious. The oldest waited until their mother left for the bathroom before creeping up to the kitchen counter.

“Hello”

Peter gave her a dead eyed stare.

“Are you mummy’s brother?”

Peter’s glare didn’t subside but he gave an affirmative hum. Better to answer their questions and get rid of them quicker.

“Why have we never met you before then?”

Peter considered his answer more than he would usually think about what he said. The honest answer, that he thought the rest of the family had killed her off secretly, would likely not go down well. Nor would, a second true option, that he had little to no interest in their lives. He grunted, far too tired to bother with his normal false cheer. Peter had never spent time around children and so didn’t realise that answering a child’s questions just invited more questions.

Elias was similar if he thought about it.

“I’m busy.”

“What do you do?”

“Ship Captain.”

A chorus of “oooh’s” from the three children.

“Do you have a ship?”

“Obviously.”

“Is it big?”

“Very”

“Can we see it?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Dangerous. You’re mum will be upset with me. Don’t want to deal with that.”

“Why not?

“I don’t like talking to people.”

“You’re talking to us?”

“I wish I wasn’t.”

That shut them up for a moment and they huddled on the other side of the kitchen. One of them ran off while the others stared at him. Peter wondered if he could sleep in the Lonely until either the Tundra was fixed or Elias calmed down.

It was more likely that he would suddenly reject the Lonely than Elias forgive him quite that quickly. He knew he could expect another three months minimum before the man even considered getting over himself. The child that had run off came back with something behind her back.

One of the brats, the young lad, one of the twins, broke away from his sisters and came back over, Peter didn’t bother restraining his annoyed sigh.

“Do you have any kids?”

“God I hope not.”

“Is that a no?”

“It’s a ‘Probably not’, my husband might have something to say about it if he found out I did.” he suddenly realised he had revealed too much, and he had said it just as his sister entered the room again. He groaned internally at the thought of the second round of questioning he was bound to receive once the brats went to bed. He saw fog start to curl at the kitchen window at his longing for the cold embrace of his domain. His sister refilled his coffee mug before leaving him to his fate as the children approached. The eldest seemed to be at least attempting to restrain her two younger siblings. As soon as their mother passed the threshold of the door, he was peppered with rapid fire questions.

“Husband? What’s his name? Is he nice? Is he also old? Can we meet him? What does he do?” Peter took a moment to work out what they were saying before answering in turn.

“Yes. Elias, sometimes. No. Yes. No. Meddling in other people’s business.”

The eldest opened her mouth to ask another question and Peter growled at her in irritation. He saw her mouth “sometimes?” with obvious confusion. Peter took a long sip of his coffee and sighed, already tired of this and he’d only been there a day.

Simon picked one of his grandchildren up and threw her high into the air, he was scream-laughing as he came back down, to only the briefest glance over from the boy’s father. Most of the children had scattered to the far reaches of the house by now, only a handful staying behind. Just the child clambering over him and a pair reading a book on space. They were looking with targetted interest at the pages that were just made up of huge pictures of the stars. One of them placed their hand on the page and looked up at him with unrestrained excitement.

“Can we go there one day?” they said, tapping the picture of the stars. He laughed and patter them on the head as he stood up.

“Hopefully. If I get my way, definitely.”

He flipped the child clinging to his arm over so he hung from his arm, face going an alarming shade of red. All this time with his family was making him feel nostalgic.

He pulled out his phone and shot off a text to Peter.

Plukas 11:42

How is it going? Did you find somewhere to stay? I’m just hanging around

His sister had dragged the oldest off to some club, he didn’t know, he wasn’t listening, so he finally had some time alone as the younger two were too afraid to come up to him without their oldest sister their to “protect” them. Though the thought was laughable. If he intended them any harm, they would already be fading away in the Lonely. He could hear them crashing and tinkering with something and the sound of liquid going down the drain in the other room and if he was a responsible adult he would know that quiet children are children that are up to something. Luckily for the twins, he didn’t know that and so they were left to their crafting.

He was lying on the couch in quiet bliss when he felt his personal bubble being intruded upon. He pried open an eye and groaned at the sight of them for the second time that day.

“What.” he said flatly. They shuffled nervously before presenting him with something.

It was meant to be a ship in a bottle. And there was a ship. And it was in a bottle.

To be precise it was a plastic boat from some sort of kids play set and the bottle was a very obviously recently emptied bottle of wine. The bottle which he was sure his sister was going to be overjoyed that her kids had probably poured the contents of down the sink. The bottle was also cracked and glued back together, the kids not knowing how to do it properly. Not that they could, he realised, when they were using a solid plastic boat. He held it in his hands. It was, objectively, utter trash and it belonged in the rubbish bin.

He cracked a smile.

“Good job.”

The kids giggled and ran off, leaving him and the bottle alone. He felt his phone buzz, seeing a message from Simon. He typed in his reply, giving a quiet laugh, before returning to his nap, his gift sat on the table next to his head.

simon 11:49

I’m decent, not too much company, there was some good wine

#Peter Lukas #Simon Fairchild #NaNo 2020

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siberlius-moving · 5 years

Text

i know i said no essay bUT HERE’S A LONG ONE

- spoilers for beast au ahead -

BEAST: On being human and alive

What does it mean to be human? What does it mean to be living?

The characters here refer to Beast AU’s characters, but I will specify when I am referring to the main universe’s respective characters.

Dazai and Akutagawa: what is a beast? who is the beast?

Dazai in the Beast AU, having glimpsed into the alternate universes, had concocted an elaborate plan to ‘save’ an universe where Odasaku got to write his novel. I would like to think, that this Dazai saw the lives of other Dazais who had left the Port Mafia and lived a purposeful life where he could genuinely be a good person and help others, surrounded by people he cares about and who also genuinely care for him (thus, in spite of all the suicide jokes, Dazai in main universe is actually clinging onto life pretty tightly). But Dazai in the Port Mafia was still a person who hadn’t learnt to appreciate human life as being something more than the act of moving and breathing. As smart as he was, he hadn’t had the maturity to understand empathy, sympathy, and the value of having connection with others. Main universe’s Dazai, in fact, is still learning to do so. He has a long way to go, but you realise that it is his connections with people like Oda, Atsushi and the ADA that give him purpose to live another day, and help him be so much more successful in pulling off his schemes since people actually trust and open up to him. You can argue that he would still have been successful being his old Port Mafia self, except with a lot more deaths and violence. But, he would have lived a very short life. Which, was what happened in the Beast AU.

Beast AU’s Dazai, latching onto the regret of main universe’s Dazai, and encouraged by his own lack of will to live in his present life, decided that this universe didn’t matter (since he technically had already ‘lived’ in other timelines) and set on a path to help Oda finish writing a novel. It is incredibly selfish, because for everyone else, this was the only life they ever had, would ever lived. By the end of the book, Dazai realised this. He got called out by Oda for it. In their one and only meeting, Oda noted that Dazai was almost childlike in the way he tried to recreate a friendship that never existed. When Oda told Dazai that they were not friends and that he would do everything in his power to get Akutagawa back, Dazai understood. At the last stage of his grand plan, where he was to die, it had seemed like he got what he wanted - Oda had his book written and had led a nice life after all. But was it really what Dazai wanted? Was he not just slave to the main universe’s Dazai’s wishes?

Akutagawa in Beast AU isn’t very much different from Akutagawa in the main universe, at least until Dazai came about and changed everything. Dazai in the Beast AU, had become the Port Mafia boss at a really young age. All the immaturity and issues mentioned above get ramped up here. He controlled the port mafia with an iron fist. I would think it was harder for him, because at least for Mori, he had years to build his way up. The rumours that Dazai killed Mori to usurp his position made it harder for Dazai to consolidate his power. He knew that he needed multiple figures of fear to rule. In the main universe, Dazai was an executive who didn’t know the existence of Atsushi. Akutagawa was the only one he could mould into a similar role he was looking for. Thus, Beast AU’s Dazai went to Akutagawa first.

But in the main universe, Dazai realised too late that Akutagawa was too 'wild’. He was a blunt kind of mass weapon of destruction, too much of a wild card. In any case, Dazai was just an executive then, and Akutagawa served his purpose most of the time, and Mori had a good range of competent supporters he could use. Chuuya actually respected and was extremely loyal to Mori. In the Beast AU, Dazai didn’t have that kind of support. But he needed one, controllable weapon from the shin soukoku for his future plans. He tested Akutagawa by letting him kill all the gang members (in the main universe, Dazai had them killed as a ‘gift’ to Akutagawa to entice him to join Port Mafia). Akutagawa killed them extremely brutally, almost animalistically. Too wild for Dazai’s needs. That was okay, because Atsushi was perfect, and Dazai knew of Atsushi’s existence. Atsushi had a moral compass and knew right from wrong. He was only uncontrollable when influenced by his ability and he turned into a tiger, but this can be managed by a brutal spiked choker around his neck. His conscience, along with his fragile mentality, allowed Dazai to perfectly control his actions by using said conscience against Atsushi, without the unpredictable risks that Akutagawa posed.

Here’s the important thing: Dazai thought that Akutagawa was a ‘beast’. A beast is a thing controlled by its nature. It cannot be controlled by anything else besides a severe master. It is dangerous, it is wild, it is irrational, but it is innocent. After all, it is only doing what its instincts call for it to do. How can one be guilty, when it does not know what it is doing is wrong? If it is evil, then all it knows is evil deeds. Nothing one does can change it. After all, Akutagawa was inclined towards destruction, and he was talented in it. He tends towards irrational destruction with utter disregard for his or others’ lives. Gin was injured while saving Akutagawa during the massacre, and he abandoned her for mindless, hopeless revenge. This fact was used against Akutagawa - Dazai rejected him over it and took Gin away. Dazai told Gin that Akutagawa had abandoned her for violence and would abandon her again because when it came down to it, he was a destructive beast who cannot ignore his nature and he cannot love the way normal humans do. Akutagawa proved Dazai’s point when he attacked Atsushi for calling him out on this, even though Atsushi was leading him to Gin. Gin, out of resentment and love, left Akutagawa so that Akutagawa could live on, like he was a wolf that belonged to the forest.

But Dazai was wrong. Akutagawa had lived in environments that had shaped him to be extremely reactive, violent and constantly on survival mode. He would react to threats with immediate violence. But that did not make him inherently a beast. Even he had nothing, he acted as a protector for the children, and led them as much as he could. After Oda found him, offered him food and shelter and gave him a chance to live a life beyond constant survival, he flourished. He bonded with Tanizaki over the love of their sisters. He agreed to ADA’s conditions for helping him find his sister even though he could have simply attacked them for answers. When Kenji showed him the rice plains he was enraptured by the sight. He learnt to plant rice with Kenji and had continued to help him with farming even when he had no reason to help him. He sucked at paperwork but was really good at keeping with Kunikida’s schedules and helping him track and catch criminals (and without killing them!). He helped Oda babysit 15 kids by making playgrounds, showing up for their PTAs and helping them be more confident in school. When he had the opportunity, he could choose to be kind. When he had the patient guidance of a loving community, he could learn from them and change. (Minor scene at the start of the novel: When Akutagawa gets hot tea spilt onto him, Tanizaki and Kunikida sensed instinctive bloodlust on him. But what he really did, was to catch the tea cups and the serving tray swiftly with Rashomon and hand it back to the waitress.)

Oda pointed it out rightly - Akutagawa was an emotional person and he cared too much. When things he cared about were hurt, these emotions took control of him and he would lash out in rather violent ways. And he would feel guilty over it. But, how can a beast feel guilty? It is interesting that in the Beast AU, Atsushi was hardly ever referred to as a beast, even when he was famous for being unable to recognise friend from foe when he was in a tiger state. One of the more obvious parallels is then when Akutagawa noted that Atsushi was driven mad by guilt. And Akutagawa slowly saw it in himself. They were similar that way - both were hounded by the guilt of a irreversible mistake that destroyed/changed their lives. Akutagawa never forgave himself for leaving Gin alone that night when Dazai took her away, to the point that he wanted to die. He only wanted to find and kill two people. One was Dazai. The second was himself. He was afraid of this uncontrollable beast he felt was inside him.

Oda told him not to chase the beast for a good reason - Akutagawa was not a beast. But he could choose to be one, if he followed that path of no return. Kunikida at the crucial fight point, when urging Akutagawa to stand up and continue fighting said it too: that Akutagawa was not an evil person, but he could choose to be a good person if he chose to become a detective with the ADA. And Akutagawa chose. He allowed Atsushi to live, and told him to keep on fighting and living. He continued working with ADA, trying to solve cases and save people, so that he could prove to himself that he was not a beast, and that one day, Gin could see that he was better and came back to him. I think, even in the main universe, Dazai knows he is wrong about Akutagawa - he may have given up in trying to teach non-terrorising skills in Akutagawa when he was still in the Port Mafia, but he has since tried to amend his mistakes through Atsushi.

Being able to make choices is what makes you human. Choosing to do things beyond our instincts, our nature. We are good, because of the choices that we have made. Likewise, we are bad, because of what we have done. Akutagawa was born to have traits of a rabid hellhound, but he didn’t become one. No one tamed him. What happened, was that he had met with kindness. He had friends. He shared his thoughts and his past and his feelings to the members of the ADA, and they had connected with him and helped him out as much as they could, even when he had yet to fulfil the ‘spirit’ part of the exam. Kenji and Akutagawa had an interesting conversation in the fields. Kenji pointed out that while his companions had died, he had continued to live well. Akutagawa then wondered if it was because his companions have given him the best parts of themselves for him to live on. It is the connection with others that make life worthy of living, that make life mean something. To be human, is to make choices. To be judged on our worth as a human, is to be judged by our very actions. This is inherent in what it means to be alive: living is only worthy when we can share our lives with others.

Now contrast this with Dazai. Did he really have a choice? If he did, he made some dreadfully selfish ones that destroyed and traumatised the people around him. The Dazai in this world had his own experiences that made him a separate person from the other Dazais after all - his actions and the consequences were his and his own to bear. Who was he to have something that the other Dazais had worked to achieve? The Dazais in other universes may have lost Oda, but Oda was a friend, who shared memories and time with him, who understood and seen him. The loss was devastating, but main universe’s Dazai didn’t truly lose Oda. Oda was still alive, in his mind, giving him the motivation to live on, reminding him to reach out to others and telling him that he was not alone. Dazai in the Beast AU was truly alone. He might have thought that he could replicate a connection in this universe, but his actions had made them nonexistent. As much as Oda was kind and empathetic and perceptive in every universe, it was just impossible. And Oda’s life involved people he cared deeply about, people who Dazai had hurt. Dazai, in the Lupin bar that he had never been in this universe, may have been in denial to tide over the years of waiting for Oda to finish writing and for shin soukoku to develop the best they can be, but once he spoke to Oda, the illusion shattered. Even with all his knowledge of the world, it was never going to recreate a purpose to live. No matter his good intentions, Dazai would never receive the acknowledgement he badly wanted from Oda. Oda would never give him the relief of forgiveness Dazai wanted for the terrible deeds he had done. And Dazai would die, in misery, fulfilling a wish that didn’t truly belong to him.

If Dazai truly didn’t have a choice, then, he was compelled by forces that created this condition within him - he was then, the only beast of this universe.

#meta #essay length!#it's hyperfixation babes #i have A LOT OF THOUGHTS ON THE BEAST AU LN #bungou stray dogs #bsd beast #bsd #akutagawa #dazai

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bittysvalentines · 5 years

Text

WTF

From: @insertatitlehere AO3: emimix3

To: @dyinginjapanese

Tags: Social Media, Friendship, Pets, Cats

Message: Hi! I hope you'll enjoy this piece as much as I enjoyed working on it :) It was a pleasure to write this for you!

Tango

> Guys I made a mistake

Whiskey > What now

Ford >> I mean, if you noticed you made a mistake, you must have made a BIG mistake

Tango > mmh just come to my dorm room

Ford >> Is that a ghost. Did you find a ghost in your room

Whiskey > just stop with ghost hunting, it doesn’t work tango, you need to accept that

Tango > bring meat if you’ve got some in your fridge

Whiskey > What > Tony Tango Tangredi what

Ford shot a message to Whiskey when she was about to reach Tango’s dorm, and he replied to her that he would be there in two minutes – so, she waited for him at the building. Whiskey arrived, with a Tupperware in hand.

“It’s chicken tenders,” he explained. “I hope Tango won’t eat them all, because I wanted to have some for dinner.”

“If Tango don’t eat them all, I will. I had a class over lunch so I didn’t eat.”

“I’m not your personal chef, Denise,” Whiskey said, as he opened the dorm’s front door.

“I’m the one picking everyone’s room on roadies, Connor. If I were you, I’d play nice.”

“Okay, you can take two, and I don’t want to be with Tango and Hops again. My ears still haven’t recovered from last time.”

When they reached Tango’s room on the third floor, they didn’t even have the time to knock that he had slightly opened the door to usher them in.

“Tony, what the hell?” Whiskey asked.

Tango didn’t reply immediately. He just looked at his desk, and mumbled something that neither of his friends managed to understand – and that’s when Ford noticed, on the desk chair:

There was a tiny, scrappy, brownie kitty.

“Oh my God,” Ford said, a hand on her heart because she honestly needed as much to not die of cuteness overload.

“Oh my God,” Whiskey said, a hand in front of his mouth because there was no way that Tango did something that stupid, and that he was about to involve them into this.

Tango scratched his cheek, a bit uneasy.

“Okay so, I found a kitty, his name is Doubt Legs Alarm and I’d die for him.”

“Oh my God you’re so cute,” Ford gushed, going to the little squeaking kitten. “Look at him Whiskey! He’s so cute!”

The kitten didn’t seem to want to be pet, but he instead began to try to bite Ford’s fingers and scratch them. Yeah, he was kinda cute, even if he had matted, uneven fur, that he was almost certainly too thin, plus the small issue that he had, you know, no eyes.

“I’m sorry Tango,” Whiskey managed to utter, “but what the fuck did you say his name is?”

Doubt Legs Alarm was nicknamed “Doug” while the three friends were sitting in the nearest vet’s waiting room – the kitty in a big cardboard box, because that was the only thing they found to transport him.

“You know you can’t keep him, right?” Ford told Tango.

“Shhh,” he replied, putting his index in her lips. “Shh.”

“Tango. Ignoring the issue won’t solve the issue,” Whiskey sighed.

“Shh,” Tango said, now putting his index on Whiskey’s mouth.

It was soon enough their turn. They entered the vet’s consulting room and Ford carried Doug out of the box to put him on the table – the poor kitty seemed to be terrorised by the whole ordeal, and he was meowing uncontrollably. In the meantime, Tango was telling the vet what he knew about the cat.

“I saw him while taking a shortcut from a class to another,” he explained. “Behind the Murder Stop&Shop, you know?”

“The Murder Stop&Shop?”

“Yeah, not the racist one, the one where there was a murder a few years back. Anyway. He was meowing between two trashcans and he was alone and eyeless, so…”

“Well it’s good you took him. He wouldn’t have lasted long out there – his eyes injuries are fresh, they could get infected quickly…”

“Also he’s not eating. We tried to give him a chicken tender but he didn’t want to try.”

“A chicken tender.”

The vet was really helpful – gave an age to Doug, probably between two and three months (but it was hard to know because of how thin he was), something to try to soothe his eyes, a thousand of recommendations that Ford dutifully noted on her journal, and prescriptions for worm killers and vaccines.

“You plan to keep him, right?” the vet had asked. “Or do you have someone lined up to take him, a shelter?”

“No, no, I’m keeping him,” Tango replied straight away.

“Okay, then we’d need to schedule his neutering…”

He also gave them a lot of advice on what to buy to take care of him, and books to read – he walked them to the front of the clinic, and while Whiskey and Ford were thanking him, the secretary gave Tango the bill for the consultation.

Ford didn’t manage to see it, but Tango blanched and asked in a quiet tone if payment plans were an option.

She took it on herself to not yell at her friend the second they were out. She waited that they were sitting on the bench at the bus stop, waiting for their ride back to the campus.

“Tango. You can’t keep this cat.”

“I can. He needs me.”

“Tango. You live in a dorm room. You can’t have pets. Plus, it’s way too expensive. He’s sick and blind – he’s going to have medical bills way higher than this one. You need to pay for his food, his toys, his litter, for someone to take care of him when we’re on roadies.”

“But he’s so cute! He’s gonna die out there!”

“There’s shelters-”

“He’s blind! Who will want him?” Tango pleaded, holding the cardboard box close to his chest.

“I know. It’s breaking my heart, too, Tango. But we need to find a solution, quick.”

They needed to, and quick, indeed. The bus to campus stopped right in front of them. Neither moved, and the bus left. Another one would come in twenty minutes anyway. Tango was sombre and Ford looked really upset too.

“He can be our cat, the three of us. We can share the expenses; that would help a lot already. And we can leave him at the Haus,” Whiskey proposed.

Tango and Ford turned towards him, hoping he’d elaborate.

“It’s… Okay I don’t like cats much, but he’s hella cute. And Tango, you obviously care a lot about him, and Ford, I know you want the best for him. So it’s the easiest solution. I know that Bitty had refused a Haus cat when Chowder asked, but if we go in there with a sob story and a cute kitty already on our laps he won’t be able to say no. We’re spending half of our time in the Haus anyway, so we’ll be able to take care of him there. Plus, if he’s at the Haus and even if he’s our cat, we maybe can get the others to chip in with food and all – I know the team would be happy to shower him with toys and stuff. Plus, it’s in the middle of the frat row, so there must be someone in the Haus that knows someone who’d be around when we’re away for roadies.”

“And for the summer and other breaks, at least one of us three can take him,” Ford reasoned. “That, or as a few guys in the team stay on campus year-long, they’d be happy to Haus-sit him.”

“And,” Tango concluded, “if we’re the rightful owners of the Haus cat, that he can potentially come and go at our will – surely, that would give us a lot of leverage regarding getting dibs to live there next year.”

The three Tadpoles looked at each other, and nodded – before they shook hands to seal their perfect plan.

“What about after college?” Tango asked. “If he’s our cat. Who will get him when we graduate?”

“Well Tango, either one of us gets custody, or I guess that means we’ll have to be roommates in whatever city Whiskey will get an NHL contract in,” Ford joked.

“Sounds good, haha. Whiskey, please sign with the Jersey Devils.”

“Wait, what now? I just signed for a third of a blind cat, not for two eternal roommates!”

They rehearsed the sob story on the way to the Haus. Ford let her inner theatre kid take over and she was intransigent on their acting, reminding Tango that they’d have to surrender Doug to a shelter if they couldn’t convince Bitty to keep him. It worked, because Tango was nearly in tears when he was sitting in the living-room of the Haus, the kitty on his lap and telling all the Hausmates the story of this poor eyeless kitty who just needed a roof and a lot of love, and isn’t it the best place for him to have all that (and yes, of course, we’d be the ones cleaning the litter)?

Chowder was bawling his eyes out at the story, Nursey was enamoured with Doug, and Ollie and Wicks were already budging Bitty to please say yes, Cap, you’re not that heartless are you?

After a while, Bitty sighed and reluctantly accepted. Dex was already talking about plans for a cat tree to build.

Doug grew quickly accustomed at the life in the Haus. He was still running into some walls and misplaced furniture on the regular, but he was quiky to map out the entire place, and always knew at which room’s door to meow to get pets and food (he was especially good at tricking different people into giving him two or three dinners a day). During kegsters, he was staying in Chowder’s room, but the rest of the time he liked to hang out in the living-room where there were always people – or in the kitchen, where there was always food.

Bitty loudly hated the fact and kept complaining about it, but more than once Ford caught him petting or feeding scraps the cat when he was sitting on the counter while Bitty baked. Of course, Tango and Ford did all they can to stay number one in Doug’s heart – but the cat seemed to especially enjoy the company of Whiskey. Probably because Whiskey favourite way to hang out with people and animals was to sit in the same room, without saying a word?

Doug had become the lucky charm of the team, (everyone needed to pet him before a game or a roadie, or else…) so after Ford just off-handily mentioned that maybe her, Whiskey and Tango would look for an off-campus apartment that would accept cats for the following year, an emergency Haus Meeting was summoned. Neither of them was certain of what was said in it, but the following day, the three of them got dibs, so all went according to the plan.

[Instagram video: the cat has been brought to Faber and is wearing little cat shoes to walk on the ice. He’s meowing in despair because of how slippery it is.

@samwellmenshockey Our mascot is actually playing too – hopefully, he’ll be on the starting line by next semester!

Instagram picture: Doug is wearing a tiny knitted “ZIMME 1” jersey. It’s obvious there wasn’t enough room for the rest of the name. He’s lying on Tango’s stomach who is napping on the couch.

@samwellmenshockey Doug is supporting the @FalconersPVD tonight! Obviously that means that the @FalconersPVD will send him some 12 lbs dry food bags, right @FalconersPVD?]

“I’m happy we kept this cat,” Tango said one evening, while he was watching a movie, curled under the blankets on the couch next to Ford and Whiskey – petting Doug, who was on Ford’s lap.

“He’s not half-bad, in the end,” Whiskey agreed, scratching the kitty behind his ears.

“I saw him do his business on the Lax bro’s porch this afternoon,” Tango said.

“A cat of good taste and perfect manners. We taught him well,” Ford acquiesced.

“Are you kidding?” Whiskey asked. “He’s the worst cat! I saw him watching a mouse run in the basement, and he wouldn’t even get up to run after it!”

“Yeah? And did you get up to run after the mouse Whisk?”

“Wow, you’re so lazy, Connor.”

“Will you both stop making fun of me?”

Yep, Ford thought, as Whiskey was throwing at her and Tango popcorn in the face, and Doug jumped to try to catch them. She was happy they kept this cat.

#fordtangowhiskey #wtf #bv2020 #bitty's valentines #omgcp fandom #omg check please!

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insphoeration · 5 years

Text

KDRAMA RECS

(In no particular order)

Have watched multiple times with no shame:

A Korean Odessey (Also known as, Hwayugi)

So Mi (played by Oh Yeon Seo) has the ability to see ghosts which causes her to get wrapped up with Devil King Woo (played by Cha Seung Won) and mischievous god, Son Oh Gong (played by Lee Seung Gi). As a child So Mi is tricked by Son Oh Gong into making a deal which would only benefit him. 25 years later, So Mi is the only one who can stop the apocalypse, but she can’t do it alone.

Basically one of the best drama’s I have ever watched. A really interesting plot based on the Chinese novel Journey to the West. Really interesting and complex characters as well as decent special effects. While being a romance, this drama follows the stories of the other major players involved, making you fall in love with all of them. This story is a modern spin, so it takes place in modern times while also bringing history and legends into the mix, really entertaining, especially if you’re not a fan of historical drama’s like me.

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Comedy, Horror

Where I Watched: Netflix

Strong Woman Do Bong Soon

Bong Soon (played by Park Bo Young) is born with super human strength, which can only be used for good. An Min Hyuk (played by Park Hyung Sik) is the CEO of a gaming company with a target on his back. Min Hyuk finds out about Bong Soon’s strength and hires her to be his body guard, despite her finding her strength a burden. Together they are able to keep Min Hyuk safe as well as Bong Soon’s community which is being terrorised by a murderer/kidnapper.

Fair warning: because of the mature themes of kidnapping and murder thrown in throughout by the main antagonist, this Drama may be triggering to some people. However if you skip past those parts, this drama is really cute. The thing that made me fall in love with the two main characters was not their romance but the friendship that came before it. A lot of people will tell you this drama is the poster child for second lead syndrome but I really liked it regardless.

Genre: Fantasy, Thriller, Action, Romantic comedy

Where I Watched: Netflix

My ID is Gangnam Beauty (Or just Gangnam Beauty)

Based of the webtoon of the same name, Gangnam Beauty centres around chemistry major, Kang Mi Rae (played by Im Soo- Hyang) who underwent plastic surgery, tired of being bullied for her looks. Fellow classmate Hyun Soo A (played by Jo Woo Ri) continuously fights Mi Rae for a position she already has. Only Do Kyung Seok (played by Astro’s Cha Eun Woo) see’s Soo A for who she really is.

This one is also one of my favourites that I always find myself coming back to. Mi Rae starts off pretty insecure but as the drama progresses she starts seeing people for more that her looks as well as grows to stop being ashamed about the fact that she got surgery. And Eun Woo’s acting phenomenal because he doesn’t even resemble Eun Woo with how smiley he is in real life compared to his tsundere character.

Genre: Coming of Age, Romantic Comedy

Where I Watched: Viki.com

School 2015 (Also known as Who Are You?: School 2015)

Another potential trigger warning: the main character gets bullied so bad she attempts suicide which is the thing that really throws the whole story into gear.

Go Eun Byeol and Lee Eun Bi (played by Kim So Hyun) are identical twin sisters separated at birth, while Eun Byeol is cold in nature she is popular and well liked by her peers. Eun Bi however, is like a mother figure to the other kids living at the orphanage, and often stands up for others, she is bullied at school to the point of attempting suicide, which coincides with her sisters disappearance. Eun Bi, with no memory is mistaken for Eun Byeol and is taken to live life as her sister.

This drama was crazy and kept driving me crazy, first of all the antagonist is only a high school student and yet one of the most sinister characters ever written. And while most people think Strong Woman has second lead syndrome, School 2015 almost killed me with second lead syndrome and I’m still not over it. But I still love this drama and I think it’s worth the watch.

Genre: Teen, Mystery, Coming of Age

Where I watched: Youtube

W: Two Worlds

Surgical resident, Oh Yeon Joo (played by Han Hyo Joo) is sucked into the webtoon; W, written by her father. This complicates the storyline of the webtoon’s main character Kyung Chul (played by Lee Jong Suk) as the two get involved.

Wow. Another one of my favourites and the drama to kick start my love affair with Lee Jong Suk. The series as a whole is so original and interesting but every episode leaves you wanting more, Lee Jong Suk’s charcter is so insanely complex my heart really felt for him. And Han Hyo Joo’s acting is marvellous, you coulod truly see the pain her character felt at certain times Fun fact: this drama about a webtoon is based on the webtoon of the same name. (Inception?)

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, Suspense, Thriller

Where I watched: viki.com

While You Were Sleeping

Nam Hong Joo (played by Bae Suzy) has the ability to see visions, usually bad, in her sleep. She teams up with prosecutor Jung Jae Chan (Played be Lee Jong Suk), and later police officer Han Woo Tak (played by Jung Hae In), to help the people plagued in her dreams.

The first episode had me in all types of confusion but looking back on it, it was actually done really well, introducing characters and the overall plot. What I really likes about this drama was that it had me on the edge of my seat nearly the whole time, and every episode amounted to something bigger. Unfortunately this series does come with a decent about onf second lead syndrome, but not like School: 2015 or Cheese in the Trap where you’re kind of mad at the main character for choosing the wrong person but like Strong Woman Do Bong Soon and Sassy Go Go, you fall in love with both leads and you just want the second lead to also have a happy ending.

Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Thriller, Legal Drama

Where I watched: Viki.com

Descendants of the Sun

Brought together by unfortunate circumstance, Korean special forces Captian Yoo Shi Jin (played by Song Jong Ki), and Surgeon Kang Mi Yeon (played by Song Hye Kyo) have to work together to protect the people they love. Set in the fictional country of Uruk, Yoo’s Alpha team and Kang’s medical team learn a lot about themselves and what life is like on another side of the world.

I’m not going to lie, I put this off for so long because I thought I wasn’t going to like it but I actually ended up loving it. This is in most part due to Song Jong Ki’s charter, when I heard he was in the military I was like ugh it’s going to be one of those tough guy gets softened up by the girl drama’s but on a much larger scale, but boy was I wrong. Yoo Shi Jin is a responsible and hardworking Captain that cares about the people around him, almost to a fault, but he’s hilarious and light hearted at the same time. And at some point the bromance got me more than the main romance. There is a reason this drama is so popular and often referred to as iconic. Go watch it! Another fun fact: Song Jong Ki and Song Hye Kyo got married in October of 2017.

Genre: Romance, Melodrama, Action

Where I Watched: Viki.com

Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok Jo

A coming-of-age story about a group of college athletes who are fighting for their dreams, experiencing and finding love in the process.

Sorry I couldn’t come up with a good summary, the overall story is a bit hard to explain. I liked this drama although I didn’t love it. It’s cute and funny and it also deals with important topics like mental health on top of physical health. The one this that rubbed me the wrong way with this drama is the ‘thing’ between Bok Jo and the second male lead, simply because their age gap was far too large to ignore. But skipping through damn near all of his scenes, I enjoyed it.

Genre: Coming of Age, Sports, Romantic Comedy

Where I watched: Viki.com

Honourable Mentions:

Reply 1997

Coming of Age story that deals with a lot of important topics like friendship, sex, relationships, family and honestly just growing up.

Cute but another one where the second lead rubbed me the wrong way. Maybe it’s because he played the evil guy in Hwayugi and I can’t see him as anything else but his whole thing was weird. I don’t want to spoil it but I genuinely cannot believe people thought his character was sane not to mention a good match for the main.

He is Psychometric

Lee Ahn has the ability to see the past of whatever he touches, he uses his ability to help a police officer and prosecutor solve the mystery of the fire that killed his parents

I honestly only watched this for Jinyoung okay, and while I was impressed with the acting by all the actors, the story would slow down right before it hit you in the face, so overall kind of all over the place.

EUN JI SOO DESERVED BETTER

The Heirs

Typical poor girl falls for a rich guy drama (kind of a classic)

One of my first Drama’s, you could really feel the chemistry between the two main leads, and the character of Kim Tan was so passionate it was captivating

Doctors

Medical drama based on a former delinquent who ends up being a surgeon and her mentor

Another drama with a weird age gap

Park Shin Hye is a badass.

#kdrama #kdrama recommendations #kdrama review #weightlifiting fairy kim bok joo #strong woman do bong soon #while you were sleeping #w:two worlds #school 2015 #my id is gangnam beauty #descendants of the sun #hwayugi #korean odessey #reply 1997 #he is psychometric #the heirs #doctors

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redeadepression · 6 years

Text

Young!Arthur|Kid!John Fic Request: Change

Characters: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Hosea Matthews

Warnings: None | Words: 5423

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A warm breeze whistled through camp as the morning sun peaked over the mountains in the distance. Leaves rustling and birds singing creating a quiet ambience for the summer morning.

Hosea yawned, a noise closer to a sigh as he rested his face in his palm. His right hand scribbling away at the paper in front of him as he gazed upon it with tired eyes.

“I will not do that John.” He said firmly, the hand holding his head coming around to rub at his eyes irritably.

“Why not?” The boy complained, shoulders slumping as he stared at the table in front of him.

“You’re too young, I will not give you the permission.” Hosea replied, not looking up from his work.

John grumbled in protest.

“Dutch let’s me.” He griped, a finger slowly running along the grain of the wood. Hosea looked up at him doubtfully, tilting his head in question.

“I know for a fact he does not.” He refuted. “I won’t let you manipulate me young man so stop while you’re ahead.” He retorted, pen pausing momentarily.

John frowned, looking over at the older man in confusion. Far be it from him to try and manipulate anyone. He didn’t have Hosea’s quick whit or Dutch’s charismatic tongue.

“I weren’t tryin’ to manipulate anyone. I just really want to go and I know you’re my best shot.” He said softly, feeling deflated.

Hosea sighed, placing his pen down and taking a moment to study the teen. John had been bugging him for weeks to allow him to go out on his own. But at the tender age of 14, Hosea knew better than to grant him permission to come and go. He was a hot head with less common sense than he had social skill. He would more than likely get himself killed for speaking his mind. That was if he made it to town before getting distracted, riding off the trail, being bucked off his horse and mauled by a wild animal.

Dutch and some of the older boys had been gone for quite a while, pulling off a long haul heist they had been slowly setting up for months. Hosea optimistically expected them back any day, if they hadn’t gotten themselves arrested or killed.

Arthur was away visiting his long distance girlfriend Mary. He had been spending a lot of time away from the camp lately. Being an adult, Hosea and Dutch didn’t see fit to stop him. As long as he always came back and still did his fair share to provide for the camp they paid him no mind.

John however disliked the situation very much. To everyone else’s dismay. Being the youngest of the group, he was bored out of his mind without anyone to talk to besides Hosea and Susan. They were fine enough for substitute parents, but they weren’t the kind of friends John needed at his age.

Arthur was still several years older than John. But the kid looked up to him as a big brother rather than a person of authority. He missed Arthur’s presence largely, although he refused to admit it.

“That’s called manipulation.” Hosea stated matter-of-factly, a sly smile quirking his lips. “You’re not as dumb as you act John Marston.” He chuckled. “Besides, if I’m your best shot then you don’t got much of a chance I’m afraid.” The sniggered, making John frown.

“Why can’t I go out?” The younger lamented, showing his age with the tone he used for his complaint. “I can ride just as good as Arthur.” He paused. “And I’m a better shot!” He added for good measure.

“Arthur is an adult. You are a child.” Hosea answered blatantly, watching as the younger struggled to conceal his anger at the statement. Loosing his cool over such a factual statement would surely not help his cause.

Hosea raised his brows and nodded in a way that told John the conversation was over. He grumbled to himself, folding his arms over his chest.

“Now go on, go find something useful to do. Away with you.” Hosea said, waving his hand at the youngster and ignoring the huff he was afforded as John slipped down off the chair he had occupied and walked off towards the edge of camp.

Hosea watched him go with a sad smile. He was generally a good kid, but he had been terrorising the camp of late. Pestering the adults to give him permission to do things he was not ready for and making a mess of things when he was rejected. Some days he outright refused to do his chores until Susan threatened him with her belt. Others he woke up extra early and finished all of his chores before lunch in the hopes someone would take him to do something fun in the afternoon.

Unfortunately with majority of the adults out and about there was triple the workload for the rest of them. No one had time to take John for shooting practice, hunting or even in to town. He was bored and felt dejected which turned him in to an unruly pest.

Hosea sat back in his chair, resting his hands on his thighs as he watched John go. He supposed maybe, he could take him fishing. If only to keep him quiet for one afternoon.

The midday sun cast a shadow over the large tree in the middle of camp. Making it hard for Hosea to see his news paper in the darkness. He rubbed at his eyes, straight up denial preventing him from admitting it may be time to invest in some glasses.

John had left him alone for the better part of the day since their talk and he was starting to feel bad about the way he handled it. He had said it himself, John was a child. He didn’t have the emotional control he had come to expect from Arthur and he felt he may have been too harsh on him. Expecting too much of him for his age.

He set his paper down, making to stand before the soft sound of hooves approaching caught his attention. He looked up in surprise, a grin pulling at his lips, straightening wrinkles as he took in the glorious sight of Arthur’s return.

He jumped up a little too quickly, a hand coming to his back as it twinged in protest. He continued on, ignoring the ache and making a bee line for the younger man. He was talking before he had even dismounted his horse.

”Arthur thank God.” He sighed in relief as he reached the younger man. A hand came out to clap his shoulder as he slipped down from his saddle. “Welcome back son.” He exclaimed enthusiastically.

“What’s up with you old man?” Arthur asked, amusement in his tone. It had been a long time since he had been greeted so eagerly. Hosea paused a moment, taking a second to take in the younger man’s appearance. He was quite dressed up, new jeans and fancy vest. He supposed it was to impress that woman he had been running around with.

He pushed onwards. There would be time to question that later.

“John is driving me crazy. Take him fishing will you?” Hosea asked, more of an order than a question. Arthur balked, looking at the older man in disbelief.

“Seriously? I just got back. I ain’t takin’ that brat fishin’. He can entertain himself.” He argued. Hosea eyed him knowingly, a warning just below the surface as he spoke again.

“I need him out of here Arthur. He’s tearing the place apart. He’s bored out of his mind!”

“Then you take him fishin’.” Arthur laughed, turning to start unloading his horse and being stopped by a firm grip on his arm.

“Listen to me boy. You’ll do as I say and you’ll do it now. He don’t want to go fishing with an old biddy like me, he wants you.” Hosea said firmly, eyes piercing Arthurs as he spoke.

The blonde paused, considering the older man’s words thoughtfully.

“Me?” He asked sceptically.

“Yes you.” Hosea repeated, irritation leaking in to his usually calm tone. “He misses you Arthur. You’ve been gone for weeks and he’s had no one to talk to except myself and Susan. I can’t take it anymore.” He complained, hoping to high hell John wasn’t within earshot. He loved the boy dearly, but he had been pushed to his limits of late. The last thing he needed was John running off because he thought he wasn’t wanted. But that was exactly why Hosea needed a break from him. He was seconds from loosing his temper with the boy and knowing John, it wouldn’t go down well. It had taken a long time for the Gang to gain his trust. It had taken ever longer for them to help him feel wanted and safe. Hosea losing his cool could potentially undo all that work.

“You can’t take it anymore?” Arthur repeated dubiously, his eyes subconsciously scanning the scenery behind Hosea for John’s small frame.

Hosea exhaled in exasperation, pulling Arthur closer to him and leaning their heads together as he whispered.

“Look you know I love that boy Arthur but he’s been pestering me for weeks to let him ride out on his own and we both know he’s not ready.” Arthur nodded in agreement, staying silent and waiting for Hosea to continue. “I’m not asking you to take him out for a week but for the love of all things holy just take him fishing for one afternoon. Distract him for me so I can get some peace. Then you can do as you please.” He finished, standing straight and nodding as Arthur rolled his eyes, nodding back in reluctant agreement. “Good man.” The elder said softly, petting him on the back before turning to head for his tent. Perhaps he was getting old. He needed a lie down.

Arthur watched him go, sighing inwardly as he resigned himself to an afternoon of babysitting.

After Arthur finished unloading his horse he returned to his tent and changed in to an outfit more appropriate for a fishing trip. He emptied his pack and made his way over to the working women. Charming them in to doing his washing for him. It was already their job, but he usually didn’t make them do it. He felt it wasn’t fair to make them touch his long johns and if he was honest he really didn’t want them touching them anyway. But he needed them clean again by the next day and he had been strong armed in to leaving camp for the afternoon.

Susan gave him a sly smile as he thanked her for her service, retreating to look for John and inform him of their plans.

It took him longer than he anticipated to find the boy. He was sitting cross legged on the very outskirts of camp. He held a knife in one hand and a misshapen chunk of wood in the other. He was absentmindedly whittling it, not really paying attention to his strokes, Arthur could tell.

“You oughta’ pay attention to what yer’ doin’ with that knife kid.” He said as he approached, startling John out of his thoughts.

“Arthur.” John replied in shock. He hadn’t been expecting the older man home any time soon and had missed him ride in. He looked down at the wood in his hand, it didn’t really resemble anything although he had been trying for a duck.

“What you doin’ out here?” Arthur asked, gesturing around him as John gazed up at him in awe.

“Oh…” John paused, looking back down at his knife and setting it down along with his carving as he spoke. “I kinda got the feelin’ Hosea is annoyed at me.” He said softly, keeping his head down. “Didn’t wanna bother anyone so I came out here when I finished my chores.” He explained.

So the boy did have some sense of self-deprecation. Arthur pondered as he put his hands on his hips.

“Nah that old man’s just tired, don’t pay him no mind.” He retorted, trying to make the kid feel better as it was clear he was feeling rejected.

“I guess.” John replied, not looking up. “So what do you want?” He asked, sensing the coming question. Arthur didn’t have the patience to act coy, he got straight to the point.

“I’m goin’ fishin’.” He stated bluntly. “You wanna come?” He asked, wording it in a way that made it seem like the trip wasn’t entirely for John’s benefit.

“Why?” John asked, playing with his hands as the older man scoffed.

“Because I…” Arthur trailed off, not sure why he was pushing it if John didn’t want to go. He could get away with not doing it if it was the kid’s idea. “Look forget it if you ain’t interested.” He said with a shrug.

John’s head shot up fast, catching Arthur off guard as he started pulling himself to his feet.

“No! I am interested!” He said a little too quickly, stumbling in his haste. Arthur caught him, a frown furrowing his brow as his hand wrapped almost completely around his brother’s small arm.

“You been eatin’ boy?” He asked softly as John straightened his shirt.

“Yeah!” John answered defensively. Arthur was always on his case about how small he was. But he ate almost triple the amount he looked like he should be able to fit. He was naturally thin and very self-conscious about it. Especially when he compared himself to someone like Arthur.

“Alright, alright. Don’t get your bloomers in a twist.” Arthur teased, secretly taking pleasure in the boy’s irritation. He grinned, ruffling the kid’s hair to mask his concern. John had agreed a little too readily when Arthur had threatened to cancel the activity. He wasn’t usually too keen on showing his excitement to spend time with the older man, even if it was obvious to everyone else.

He hated to admit he was worried now. John wasn’t the type to outwardly show how he felt even if it was eating him alive. But twice in the span of a few minutes Arthur had found himself able to read the kid like an open book.

“Well go get yer things, come on.” He said hastily, pushing John in the direction of his tent and heading back to his horse to wait.

John didn’t take long to get ready. He was back by Arthur’s side in a little under 5 minutes and they were saddled up and out of the camp by 10.

They rode for a long while. Arthur’s regretting his agreement with Hosea as it turned out his ears were not ready for the assault of a child that had had no one exciting to talk to for an extended period of time. He would have been grateful for the conversation, were it able to be called conversation. A conversation has a certain back and forth. This was just John talking with Arthur unable to get a word in.

As Arthur directed them down a dusty path that lead to a large lake, he saw fit to interrupt the boy. Explaining they were almost there and he could finish his story once they’d set up. John looked a tad disappointed at the idea but stopped talking all the same and finally Arthur found himself some quiet. He was starting to understand what Hosea was talking about and he had only been in charge of the kid for an hour or so.

They set up near the water, using their combined strength to pull a fallen log close to the shoreline so they had a seat to rest on while they baited their hooks. John already knew how to fish, Hosea had taught him a while back. But he listened intently to Arthur’s explanations on why they were using a certain type of bait and what exactly they should expect to catch due to the time of afternoon, weather that day and type of waterway.

Once their hooks were in the water Arthur reluctantly encouraged John to continue his story from earlier. The sparkle in his brother’s eyes was worth the 40 minute tale filled with multiple unintelligible tangents.

Arthur found himself smiling, looking fondly on the kid as he talked with his hands, his fishing rod abandoned in his excitement as he rushed to tell his story, tripping over his words and forgetting minor details he then had to go back and fill in.

There was a short silence as John finished speaking, Arthur caught in his affectionate thoughts and John waiting on him for a response.

The younger boy frowned, looking down towards his feet and returning his hands to his fishing rod as Arthur snapped out of his stupor.

“Sorry.” John said softly, hands tightening on the rod. “I didn’t mean to be annoyin’.”

Arthur raised a brow, opening his mouth to speak but unsure what exactly to say. He hadn’t been listening to the story at all. But it wasn’t for lack of caring what John had to say.

The silence dragged on as Arthur struggled to find the words he needed to say to reassure the boy. John stared out at the water with sad eyes, cheeks tinged pink as he became overly aware of himself.

“Nah, I’m sorry.” Arthur said softly, placing a gentle hand on his brother’s shoulder and squeezing consolingly. “I was lost in my thoughts but that don’t mean I don’t care.” He assured. “I was actually thinkin’ how nice it was to be out here with ya.” He explained, making John look over at him in surprise.

“Really?” He asked sceptically.

“Yeah course.” After replied with a chuckle. “Been a long time since we did anythin’ just the two of us.” He smiled, giving John’s shoulder a slap and returning his hand to his fishing pole.

“Yeah.” John said simply, looking back at the water. “Been a long time since you been back at camp.” He said under his breath, making Arthur turn to look at him with a frown.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, annoyance in his tone.

“Nothin’.” John shrugged, his own scowl directed at the water.

“You got somethin’ to say Marston?” Arthur asked, confused by the boy’s sudden change in attitude.

“It’s just that…” John began, stopping himself short as he thought better of it.

“What?” Arthur urged.

“Nothin’.” John repeated, mouth a thin line as he tried to keep his thoughts to himself.

“John?” Arthur asked again, encouraging him to get it out in the open. John huffed, setting his pole down beside him and crossing his arms.

“It’s just ever since you met that Mary girl you barely been around.” He said indignantly, clearly trying to pretend he didn’t care when it was extremely obvious that he cared a lot.

“You jealous of me bein’ with Mary?” Arthur laughed heartily. “Wait…” He paused. “You jealous of me or… jealous of Mary?” He asked warily. “Because if you got somethin’ you wanna talk about I…”

“No!” John cut him off angrily. “It ain’t like that!” He shouted. “And anyway like I’d be jealous of Mary. She can kiss your nasty ass all she wants but I ain’t want any part of that.” He said defensively. Making Arthur laugh at his phrasing. Shaking his head at the kid.

“Well then what’s the issue?” He asked, an air of mirth to his tone.

“No issue. Forget it.” John said simply, trying his hardest to bow out of the conversation. “Just fish.” He said softly after a couple of moments of silence.

Arthur nodded in agreement, staying quiet as the other picked up his fishing rod and reeled it in to check the bait.

They fished in relative silence for another couple of hours, each just enjoying the other’s company until it was time to pack up. John secretly didn’t want to go back but after the turn their conversation took earlier, he felt it was best to not protest lest Arthur think he was having unnatural thoughts about him.

He took his time packing up his things, catching the attention of the older man who had praised how quickly had had gotten the exact same belongings together before they left. Arthur furrowed his brow, deciding to let it go as ultimately, asking John if he was okay wouldn’t achieve much other than making the kid feel awkward if he wasn’t. Arthur wasn’t equipped to handle his teenage angst even if he had been in John’s shoes a few years earlier.

They rode back to camp faster than they had when they had left. The setting sun threatening to shroud them in darkness and the thought of making camp had Arthur on edge as he had planned to ride out again in the morning. He would rather sleep in his own bed than having to get up super early to finish the journey before he could leave again.

John wasn’t nearly as talkative on the journey home. Arthur figured he had finally talked himself out of stories. Hosea would be thrilled.

As they approached the hidden pathway that lead to their secluded tents John finally decided to speak. Arthur was taken aback by the question he hadn’t been expecting.

“Do you think… maybe I could sleep in your tent tonight?” He asked, not looking up to meet the other’s eyes. “I mean… Nothin’ weird or whatever… Just stops Mrs Grimshaw wakin’ me early for chores.” He explained weakly. “She don’t like wakin’ you.” He said half-heartedly.

Arthur considered the request as the campsite came in to view. The gentle pat of their horse’s hooves filling the dead silence as John waited for his answer.

“Yeah. Course.” Arthur answered after what seemed like an eternity. “But yer bringin’ yer own bedroll.” He said quickly, making John sneer at him.

“Like I’d wanna share a bed with you.” He snapped, making the other man laugh.

“No.. no.. course not.” Arthur teased as the kid turned crimson. “Get yer things and take them to my tent when we get back so I don’t have to herd ya around when I want to get to sleep.” He said softly, much kinder than his previous remarks. John nodded, knowing without checking that Arthur was watching him.

John hitched Old Boy close to his own tent and jumped off him hurriedly as he went to collect his things. Arthur watched him go with a sad smile. It had been a long while since John had asked to share his tent. At least a year from his memory. It was a common occurrence after the boy joined the gang. Nightmares of the life he lived before them plagued John and he would often ask to share Arthur’s tent as a result. He had never refused him, even when he really, really wanted to. He saw himself in the kid. Slyly asking Hosea if it was okay to share his tent almost a decade earlier.

He understood and he never wanted John to have to feel the way Arthur himself knew he felt back when he first joined. So he agreed, although somewhat reluctantly, every time he was asked.

“How was it?” Hosea asked, ripping Arthur from his thoughts as he came up beside Bo and gave the horse a good solid pet on his rump.

“Good.” Arthur answered, sliding down from the saddle and landing with a small thud in front of his mentor. “He let off a lot of steam I think so should be more manageable for ya when I’m gone.” He shrugged.

“And when will that be exactly?” Hosea asked concerned, hands finding their way to his hips.

“Tomorra’.” Arthur answered nonchalantly. “I got business up near Huckleberry.” He explained, making to exit the conversation and being stopped by a hand on his arm.

“You mean to tell me you’re only back for one night?” Hosea asked incredulously. Arthur nodded, not understanding the issue. “Well I can’t run this place by myself Arthur!” Hosea shouted. “I’m old. I need the help of the younger generation and God knows Dutch and the others won’t be back any time soon no matter how much I choose to hope otherwise.” He carped.

“You are gettin’ old if yer openly admittin’ it.” Arthur sniggered, meeting the other man’s glare. “Okay, okay.” He cooed, raising his hands in mock surrender. “I won’t be gone long. I promise.” He chuckled.

“You better not be.” Hosea clapped back. “You may have taken that boy out to let off some steam but he’ll be full of energy again tomorrow and I just can not deal with it right now Arthur. I swear if he pesters me one more time about going out on his own I might just have to agree.” He warned. Arthur tilted his head, a sarcastic smile on his lips.

“You wouldn’t do that.” He dared.

“Oh I would you watch me.” Hosea ventured, humour in his tone. “Anyway… You calm him down in a way I’ve not seen. It’s been hard without you here.”

Arthur scoffed in reply, rolling his eyes at the thought.

“He’s a sensitive boy Arthur.” Hosea continued. “He looks up to you and you’re taking that for granted.” Arthur laughed at that. A little too heartily for Hosea’s liking. “He misses you Arthur I’m telling you.” Hosea countered, annoyance on his tongue.

“He’s just a teenager Hosea he ain’t pinin’ after me he’s just bein’ a shithead for the sake of it.”

“Don’t you talk to me about shitty teenager’s Arthur, I’ve dealt with my fair share of them, yourself included.” Arthur rolled his eyes, turning to leave for the second time. “This is different. The boy is acting out because things have changed.”

“Sure he is…” Arthur grumbled, not really in the mood to get in to an argument. Hosea worried too much about a lot of things.

“Just…” Hosea paused, running a hand over his face. He was tired in every sense of the word. “Just come back soon.” He said finally, giving up on getting through to him.

Arthur nodded, still not believing a word the older man said but not wanting to push the issue. Hosea could believe what he liked. He knew John and the younger boy was just naturally bad-tempered and going through puberty.

“I’ll try.” Arthur said sardonically, leaving his Father figure where he stood and retreating to his tent.

It was early when Arthur awoke the next day. He could tell the sun had only just risen by the positions of the shadows on the outside of his tent. He was glad he hadn’t overslept, he had promised Mary he would be back at the ranch by lunch.

Standing slowly and taking heed of his tired muscles he stretched languidly. Looking over to John who had spent a good portion of the night talking his ear off before finally falling asleep and allowing Arthur to do the same.

Arthur decided not to wake him. He had griped about being woken early by Grimshaw for chores so he was sure the kid would appreciate the sleep in. She wouldn’t come looking for him in Arthur’s tent.

He left the tent quietly, taking his pack with him and making his way to where the clean washing had been hung to dry. He pulled down his belongings, stuffing them in to his bag without folding them. He kept the outfit he planned to wear separate. Moving to hide behind a caravan he dressed himself in his best black ranch pants, white dress shirt and good quality red vest. Once dressed he slung his gambler’s jacket over his shoulder and headed for his horse.

Frankie had been treated to a brush overnight, her saddle sitting on the hitching post she was tied to. Arthur sighed inwardly. He appreciated the effort from his fellow gang member. But he took great care in making sure she was well taken care of on his own accord. He hadn’t planned for the added time needed to resaddle her as he had only brushed her before he left Mary’s the day before.

Placing his pack on the ground he began getting her things together and saddling up. He didn’t look up from his work as he heard footsteps behind him, figuring it was Hosea coming over to say goodbye.

“Arthur…” John’s voice caught him by surprise. He turned to look at the young boy wearing only his union suit. Long hair a tangled mess.

“John.” He greeted, returning to his work. “I was lettin’ ya have that sleep in ya wanted.” He explained, watching out of the corner of his eye as the boy walked to stand next to him, stroking Frankie’s nose gently.

“Are you goin’ out?” John asked, voice quiet as he ran his hands through the horse’s silver mane.

“No I’m just saddling up for fun.” Arthur answered sarcastically, earning himself a glare.

“I… I thought maybe you’d be stayin’ round for a while…” John said softly, looking away, unable to meet the older man’s eyes.

“Nah, Mary has some wealthy folk comin’ to look at her Father’s property this afternoon and she asked me to be there in case things go sour.” Arthur replied casually, completely missing John’s disappointment as he continued to load up his horse.

John hummed in response, shifting awkwardly from foot to foot as he struggled with what he wanted to say verses what was socially acceptable.

“It’s just that I…” He paused, looking Arthur over as he continued to work. He looked down, unable to finish his sentence. “Nevermind…” He finished, turning to leave and finally without trying, catching the older man’s attention.

Arthur paused his work, turning to the younger and studying him a moment before reaching out to tap lightly on his retreating shoulder.

“What?” He asked, hands on hips as John turned to face him once more.

“I guess I… I don’t know, I kinda miss you.” John said quickly, face flushing at the words. Arthur raised a brow, clear surprise on his rugged face as he considered the young man before him.

John stared down at his hands, wringing them together if only for something to do as he tried to will the awkwardness away.

Arthur huffed and John stole a glance, feeling anger rise in him as he realised Arthur was laughing. A shit-eating grin plastered on his handsome face.

“Miss me huh?” He laughed, everything about the way he spoke screaming self-esteem boost. John’s face fell, shoulders slumping as he realised his gut was right and this was a mistake.

“Forget it.” He said defensively, making to turn but being held in place by one of Arthur’s strong hands.

“John…” He said softly, voice kind and tone apologetic. “I’m only teasin’ ya.” He explained. “I appreciate it. I do.” He said honestly as the younger boy eyed him suspiciously. So the old man had been right after all. John missed him and him specifically. Arthur found himself feeling bad. He really must be bored out of his mind without him if he was willing to risk endless mocking to let Arthur know how he felt.

“Yeah… Well… Don’t mean nothin’ anyway.” John said sullenly, shrugging Arthur’s hand off his shoulder. “You still ain’t stayin’.”

“No… I’m not.” Arthur said, catching the hurt in the teen’s eye at the harsh way he worded his reply. “But… maybe I can come back in a day or two and stay around a while.” He said softly, watching as John’s face lit up and then went dark all within a matter of seconds.

“You ain’t bringin’ what’s her name with you right?” He asked, resentfully.

“Mary.” Arthur corrected him. “And no. I’ll come back alone.” He assured, giving John’s shoulder a squeeze and mounting up on his horse. John passed him the last bag from his pile and Arthur sat it in front of him. He tipped his hat at the younger man, flicking the reins and encouraging Frankie in to a trot.

“See ya John.” He said kindly, turning his horse and heading for the exit path to camp. John watched him go, feeling weird about what he had just done. He felt he was getting too old to need his big brother around. But he was eternally grateful that he was still willing to be there for him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hope you like it anon! Sorry it took so long!

#arthur morgan #john marston #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #fan fic #rdr2 fanfic #angst #brotherly love #brotherly affection

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hannahmcne · 5 years

Text

The Black Arrow C1 by xez2003

The dying sun in the cold autumn afternoon flared through the trees of the vast stone cemetery, creating shadows and silhouetted reflections of branches and graves. The crisp air carried a sour metallic tang as a gust of wind made the dry brownish leaves rustle, a few falling to the ground. A flock of jet-black crows croaked as they flew overhead. One stopped to land on a stone tombstone.

18-year-old Prince Benjamin of Auradon took a deep breath, running his hand through his honey brown hair to smoothen it. His loyal personal guard Le Foe and best friend Doug remained silent by his side, watching him carefully.

Ben's deep hazel green eyes took on a sad, forlorn expression as he gazed at the large elaborate rectangular stone memorial in front of him. Ten years had already passed since his father's murder. Ten years since he'd last heard his laugh or seen the smile lines around his eyes deepen as he tucked him into bed. Ben had never met his mother so it had always been just him and his father. And as he grew up they'd built a very close relationship. They were inseparable.

Though many years had passed, Ben still remembered clearly the last night he'd seen his father. Adam had gently kissed him on the forehead, just like he did every night before he slept. But instead of the usual story, he'd told him about an important meeting which he was going to attend that very evening. One that could've changed the outcome of the war. But, sadly, his father had never made it to the meeting. The following morning Ben had been woken up by Lord Gaston, his father's most loyal friend and councillor, with the devastating news that the Black Arrow had ambushed and killed him.

As Adam's only son, Ben was naturally next in line to Auradon's throne but was considered far too young of age to reign. King Stefan removed his right to the throne and decided to appoint Lord Gaston as Auradon's new ruler instead. In a matter of days, Ben's world had been completely turned upside down. He'd lost both his father and his home. He was inconsolable. But Gaston and his wife Claudette decided to take him in with them. They gave him a home, a new family, and loved him as if he was their own and for that he owned them everything.

But still not a day went by that Ben didn't think about his father. He missed him terribly, particularly today on the eve of such an important day. Tomorrow he would enter the battlefield for the first time. He would finally have the opportunity not only to defend his birth lands but also to honour his father's memory. He suddenly felt the weight of the world on his shoulders as he shifted position and pulled the bottom edge of his dark-brown leather doublet.

"You okay, Ben?" A familiar voice rang out as a hand rested gently on his right shoulder.

Ben blinked. He turned to face his long-time childhood friend and nodded slowly. "It's just…I'm a little nervous."

"About tomorrow?" Eighteen-year old Doug asked him softly.

"Yeah. I guess I'm feeling the responsibility." Ben paused. His eyes sparkled with determination as he subconsciously straightened himself up and squared his shoulders. "You know how as kids we used to dream of fighting besides our fathers to protect this land." He paused again. "Gaston has been training me so hard for this day. I want to make him proud. I want to finally start to repay him for all he has done for me."

"It'll be fine, Ben. I'm a little bit nervous too you know but I think it's normal. Besides, no matter what happens on that battlefield, we'll have each other's backs and we'll emerge victorious." Doug replied with an encouraging smile as he turned to look reassuringly at the person he almost considered a brother.

Ben stared at Doug for a moment as the war of his emotions played visibly across his face. A lump formed in his throat as he returned to stare intensely at his father's grave. "Do you think I'll be worthy of him?" He asked after a moment of silence, whispering hesitantly.

"I've always believed that destiny has great things planned out for you." Doug smiled.

"Like?" Ben questioned, his eyes shining with curiosity.

"An empire." Doug paused as his smile grew wider. "And a princess."

"Will she be pretty?" Ben asked with a slight smirk.

"Beautiful!" Doug reassured him.

Ben playfully cocked his head to the side as if pondering what Doug had just told him, before returning his best friend's smile. "Okay, I'll take it"

"You know, Ben." Le Fou interjected. "Your father was one of the most courageous and noble people I've ever met. I see a lot of him in you." He paused. "You know how those cowards of the Black Arrow were only able to kill him by ambushing us. They attacked us from behind and your father didn't even have the time to react and defend hims-AHHH" Le Fou let out a loud scream as he suddenly hunched forward.

On instinct, Ben closed his eyes as a spurt of his guard's blood sprayed across his face. He opened them a moment later though, fully alert. They hadn't heard the silent arrow as it had whizzed through the trees. Ben's eyes widened in horror as he eyed the protruding piece of wood, covered in blood, now sticking out of his guard's chest. Time seemed to stop as the man collapsed to his side on the ground, thrashing around. Le Fou then let out one last gagging sound before he stopped quivering completely.

"Le Fou! No!" Ben shouted as he bent down beside his fallen friend. "Doug! Hurry! Your sword!" he ordered, unsheathing his own. He ran forward a few meters, taking cover behind a wide trunk as he scanned the trees ahead of them.

Doug unsheathed his sword and was about to follow Ben when he noticed a piece of paper tied to the protruding head of the arrow. He bent down to pick it up.

"There's no one here!" Ben shouted angrily in frustration. Doug appeared by his side. "Murderers!"

"Ben, look!" Doug said getting Ben's attention. He gave him the note he'd found. "This was tied to the arrow."

As Ben read the message aloud, his expression turned from one of anger to confusion. 'The Black Arrow will have its revenge. We'll avenge the King!' Ben tilted his head to the side and narrowed his eyes. "What revenge? What king are they talking about, Doug?"

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The Castle of Auradon stood on the summit of the highest hill in the kingdom providing both a strategic view of the bordering lands and an imposing symbol of the castle's lord's power. It appeared unaffected by the Great War, despite the fact that the conflict had been raging on for the past twelve years. Four broad, square towers formed a protective wall on each corner of this rectangular stronghold and were connected by lower, vast heavy walls made of golden stone. Rough windows were scattered thinly across the walls in an asymmetric pattern, along with huge crenulations for archers and artillery. A moderate gate with hefty wooden doors, a draw bridge and archer holes protected those in need in case of an enemy's attack. The trees circling the castle surrounded it just like a great army would defend its citadel, offering protection through its tall armoured trunks. And there for everyone to see was the Auradonian Flag, with its bright colours of blue and gold. It stood, tall and majestic, from its spot on the castle's keep as it fluttered in the late afternoon breeze.

Inside the castle, its workers were busy doing their daily chores; women scrubbing away at a variety of different sized and shaped pots while the men polished the many suits of armour in silence. In the outside bailey, the heavy sound of clashing swords could be heard as the soldiers practiced hard under the watchful eye of their regiment's captain. They only stopped in their task for a few moments to bow lowly in respect as Lord Gaston passed through the inner courtyard followed closely by his adopted son.

Gaston was now a middle-aged man, but hadn't changed much from his youth. He'd retained his towering height and leading Auradon's army in the Great War had helped him to keep much of his strength. His dark brown doublet stretched across his broad shoulders while Auradon's golden livery collar rested on his still brawny chest. Ignoring the greeting from his men, he slipped his arm protectively around Ben's shoulder as he led him through the busy courtyard. "There is no revenge and most importantly there is no king to avenge!" Gaston spoke softly but firmly as he squeezed Ben's shoulder in comfort.

Ben kept his head bent down as he continued to stare at his feet. He felt numb all over as his mind just couldn't stop reliving the brutal death of his personal guard. Le Fou had been by his side ever since Gaston had taken him under his care. The Black Arrow had taken so much away from him. Ben stopped and lifted tear filled eyes to face his adoptive father. "But then why did they send us that message? Why did they've to kill Le Fou to do so?" Ben asked, his voice cracking. "They've already killed my father!"

Gaston let out a long sigh and removed his arm. He shifted position so as to face his adopted son and lifted his hands to grip both of his shoulders in a tight but warm hold. "Ben, the Black Arrow are a bunch of criminals whose sole purpose is to terrorise this kingdom and our allies. They hope to break our fighting spirit. We must not let them!" he paused. He then lifted his right hand and brought it up to gently caress the side of Ben's head.

Ben instinctively leaned into the comforting touch and his devastated expression softened as their eyes locked.

"Your father was like a brother to me. I promise you that when this war is over we'll take care of them once and for all. I'll make sure that those outlaws pay for all they've done." Gaston paused and lifted his arm again, resting it back on Ben's shoulder.

Ben nodded sombrely.

"Now come my boy. The war council will be starting shortly."

Ben followed Gaston up the steps of the castle and sucked in a nervous breath as he entered the war chamber. The four-sided room was not very large but was made up of tall ceiling beams. A large map of all the East and West territories covered the wall opposite the main door to the room while symmetrical iron cast glass windows littered the other walls providing natural light to the room. In front of Ben, in the centre of the room, was a large, sturdy rectangular wooden table. The war council members were already standing on either side of it, waiting for their arrival. Captain James Hook, his father's most trusted general, nodded his head in respect as Gaston brushed past them taking his place at the lead of the table. His son, Harry Hook, stood by his side.

Ben took his place at the top left corner of the table right next to his father and flashed a little smile at Doug. His best friend was standing right across from him, next to his father Dopey.

Gaston cleared his throat, getting everyone's attention, and made his way towards the Fairy-tale Land Map. He pulled out a knife and pointed it to a particular spot on the chart. "Tomorrow we're to join King Stefan's army just south of Faraway Cove. The Western troops we'll be fighting will be led by Sir Galahad of Camelot. He has the reputation of being a very noble and skilled fighter." Gaston placed the knife on the table and walked up to Captain Hook, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It would be a great error to underestimate him."

"Our objective during the fight will be to find Sir Galahad and kill him. He'll be wearing the commanding emblem. He won't be difficult to spot. Understood?" Captain Hook instructed. Everyone nodded in agreement.

"King Stefan expects us to win this battle." Gaston continued. "However..." he paused. All eyes remained fixed on him as he walked back to the head of the table. "That's not our only objective."

"What else do we have to do?" Harry asked.

"A small group, led by Dopey, will have the mission of reaching the Notre-Dame Convent." Gaston explained.

"The Notre-Dame Convent?" Ben asked confused.

"Exactly. King Arthur has secretly hidden someone there. Someone who everyone believes to be dead." There was another pause. "Princess Mal, heir to the Moors." The council exchanged a number of intrigued looks between them.

Ben tried to keep his expression blank but he was full of questions for his father. There was something about the way the other council members reacted to his statement that made Ben think that there was more to the story than his father let on. "And you want to imprison this princess, father?" Ben questioned carefully with raised eyebrows.

"No, my boy." Gaston smirked. He opened his arms slightly and affectionately patted his son's shoulder. "I want to make her your bride!" His father walked away from the room with a satisfied laugh which signalled the end of the meeting.

Ben felt his body stiffen and his mouth fall slightly open as he watched his adoptive father and the rest of the council exit the room, leaving him alone with his thoughts. He rested his trembling hands on the table in front of him for support. Ever since his father passed away all Ben had ever wanted was to make Gaston proud of him. He'd nominated him as his only heir, promising that he would return the lands that belonged to him by birth right as soon as he was ready. So Ben's focus growing up hadn't only been that of learning the laws which governed the kingdom but also of becoming a great warrior, just like Gaston had taught him, one that would be able to protect his people and make him fit to become a strong, brave and noble king. And while he knew that one day he would've to get married to secure an heir of his own, he'd never given the idea much thought, considering himself far too young. Now though, he felt a knot slowly forming in the pit of his stomach as the implications of his father's revelation finally dawned on him. But as he felt his chest starting to tighten, a thought suddenly occurred to him. His father would never make him marry a princess who he'd never met before in his life unless he had a very good reason for it. Ben took a deep breath to calm his racing heart…he knew his father loved him and wanted his happiness. He'd have to trust his judgement but he would talk to him about it and find out everything he could about the princess.

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Ben shifted his weight, his feet shuffling on the large flagstone flooring as he glanced around the castle's armoury waiting for Gaston. The armoury was a large arched apartment with richly decorated windows. Swords of different sizes fanned out across the stone wall displays while stands holding suits of armour and chain mails stood on either side of him. Gaston had told him he had something to give him and Ben felt his pulse quicken even more as he waited. He couldn't deny that he was excited to find out what it was. It was also the perfect occasion to ask him about the princess. A slow smile spread across his face as the creaking sound of the door being opened alerted him to Gaston's arrival.

"Tomorrow is going to be a very important day for you, my son!" Gaston stated, his eyes gleaming with pride, as he walked towards Ben. Ben noticed he was carrying a sword in a scabbard in his right hand. Gaston stopped in front of him and lifted up his arm. "Take it." He said with a grin.

Ben's eyes widened as he slowly reached out to grab it. He used his free hand to grip the blue and yellow leather of the hilt and unsheathed the sword to get a closer look. He eyed the fine craftsmanship of the blade in awe. The Auradonian crest adorned the sword's pommel which was made from polished iron which glittered as it caught the light. Ben took a deeper intake of breath. His mouth fell open slightly as he carefully stretched the blade in front of him. He remained still in that position for a few moments before returning to face Gaston. "It's beautiful!" he spoke softly.

"I had it made especially for you. I want you to shine on the battlefield like no one else." He replied with a wider grin.

Ben's mouth suddenly went dry and he gulped. "I don't know how to thank you." He managed to croak. "I won't disappoint you, father. I promise!"

"I'm going to make you a great warrior!" Gaston beamed at him and leaned in to embrace him tightly.

Ben reluctantly pulled away from the hug and gazed up at him, gingerly rubbing the back of his neck. "There's something I wanted to ask you."

"Tell me, son." Gaston replied with a little smile

"What's so important about the princess, father?"

The smile instantly left Gaston's face at Ben's question and he straightened himself to his full length as he locked eyes with him. "Ben, you still remember what I'd told you when you asked me why we're fighting this war, right?"

Ben nodded. "The West kingdom was inhabited by a number of magical creatures known as the Fae, and that these greedy and ruthless mystical beings wanted to expand their territory and were planning to attack us. So we started this war to defend our people from their threat."

"Exactly. At first these were only rumours but then King Stefan himself had managed to capture one of these creatures. We finally had proof of their existence and the powers they possessed. The Fae are actually spirits of the earth and lived in the Moorlands. Once they reach the eighteen years of age, their magical powers awaken and it allows them to have control over all the elements of the earth. Unfortunately, the creature died before it could reveal the exact location of their home and so we've been looking for the Moors ever since. But ten years ago, we received an unconfirmed report that, while on the run, the entire royal family was killed in one of our attacks. Or so we'd thought, as one of our informants recently discovered that their daughter had survived."

"And so that's why you want me to marry her?" Ben questioned.

Gaston paused and lifted his arms to grip Ben's shoulders tightly. "Are you upset at this arrangement?"

Ben suddenly looked down as he shuffled his feet. He felt his mouth go dry as he fumbled to find the right words to use to voice his doubts about the whole situation. He just didn't want to disappoint his father and make him think that he didn't want to do as he said. "Well, I just don't understand why you specifically want me to marry her. I mean, what's in it for us?" he asked, looking back up.

"She's the heir to the moorlands and marrying her would unite our two kingdoms. Their threat would be eliminated and that would effectively end this war." He paused. "Besides, imagine Ben, having the power to ensure that our farmlands are always fertile. Our people would never go hungry."

"But... I don't even know her. What if she doesn't even like me?" Ben asked.

"Of course she'll like you." A smile returned to Gaston's face. "Well, of course, you're free to choose your own path, but this would finally give us enough power to defeat the East. We really could end this war and besides, the Fae people are renowned for being beautiful. I'm sure the princess would be one of the loveliest people you'd have ever seen."

"Oh, I'm not worried. And I understand." Ben replied. "Of course, I'll do it. I just didn't realize why. But if it'll end the war and the save the lives of our people, I'll do it. You know I'd do anything to help you, father."

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The first streams of the morning's warm sunrays had just started to break over the hills surrounding Auradon's castle and shone through Ben's still closed window casting squares onto the stone tiled floor and reflecting onto several objects in the chamber. Sounds of the clinking of metal could he be heard across the room as a servant helped Ben wear the breast plate of his armour over his chainmail hauberk shirt, just as the dying fire crackled in the fireplace hearth at his feet. The servant had just finished putting on his wrist guards when the creak and scrape of the door being opened alerted Ben that someone had entered the room. He turned around to greet them and his face instantly broke into a bright smile. "Mother!"

A middle-aged women with long brown hair neatly pulled back in a pretty and elaborate braid quietly walked into the room. She stopped a metre away from him. "Oh, look at you, Ben!" Claudette exclaimed softly. Her dark hazel eyes gleamed with love and pride. "You look so handsome!" Her bright smile faded a moment later. She looked down and let out a long-pained sigh.

"You okay, mother?" Ben asked, wrinkling his brow.

"Yes, sweetheart," She lifted her eyes back up to him and they locked gazes. "But the moment I have been dreading has finally come."

Ben leaned forward with his eyes glowing. "I've waited for so long for a chance to fight by my father's side and finally prove myself to him. Don't worry, I'll be fine."

Claudette let out another deep sigh. "Ben."

"What is it?" Ben asked, biting his lip. "Is there something you want to tell me?"

The petite woman reached forward, across the space between them, and gently placed a hand on his arm. "It's just that war is so much more than simply glory and honour. I know you want to prove yourself but promise me that you'll be careful and that you will return back home safely to me."

Ben smiled, giving her a fond look. "I promise." He paused. "And nothing will happen to me. I've been training so hard for this. And besides father will be right by my side."

Claudette nodded slowly and removed her hand from his arm. She leaned forward and tenderly kissed his cheek. "You've grown up so much and I couldn't be more proud of you!"

"I love you, Mum." Ben whispered, before pulling her to embrace her gently into a hug.

̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- THE BLACK ARROW ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴-

The sharp blasts of the trumpets and the loud peal of the drums echoed throughout the narrow, cobbled streets of Auradon's village. Loud cheers and clapping immediately erupted from the gathered crowds as the first line of foot soldiers carrying the kingdom's blue and yellow banners came into view. Gaston was next, followed closely by Ben. Both were clad in full knight armour and rode on dark brown horses. The clapping intensified as the lord raised his hand to greet his people. His generals and knights were right behind him, riding in pairs of twos as they slowly started making their way towards the village outdoor gates. The rest of the troops followed. Hundreds of foot soldiers marched two to a line, carrying swords and long shining spears while a small group of archers completed the line-up.

A slim and dark-haired girl held her simple brown tunic as she pushed herself through the crowd. Her eyes lit up and she hastily made her way towards the passing knights. "Ben!" she shouted. She rested her hands on his right metal knee pad to get his attention.

"Lonnie!" he smiled. He pulled at his reins and his horse slowed down to a trot. "I came looking for you early this morning at the village. Where were you?"

She beamed at him. "I came running as soon as I heard the horses leave!" Being mindful not to trip on the cobbled road, she removed her hand from his knee and reached for her free hand. She pulled out a plain silver ring from her right hand and offered it to him. "You remember this?" she asked. Her blue eyes sparkled. "You gave it to me when I turned ten. You told me we were engaged and that one day we would get married."

Ben smiled warmly, looking down at her with a soft twinkle in his eyes.

"Take it!" she offered. "It'll bring you luck today!"

"Keep it." he replied. "Maybe we'll really get married one day." He smiled softly.

Lonnie bit the inside of her cheek and looked down at her feet. She sighed and looked up at him again, her forehead wrinkled. "The villagers are saying that your father wants you to marry some princess."

He smirked and glanced back at her with mock innocence. "Is that so? That's what the people are saying about me?"

She met his face with a hopeful gaze. "Don't joke around, Ben."

Ben's warm smile returned. He reached out to grasp her hand tightly in his gloved one. "Listen to me Lonnie. We will always remain friends no matter what." He gave her hand a squeeze and released her, flashing her one last smile. He hit the side of his horse, gaining speed and returned by his father's side.

Lonnie stared at his back as he disappeared from view, feeling numb all over. "But I don't want to be just your friend." She whispered, shaking her head.

̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- THE BLACK ARROW ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴- ̴-

After joining King Stefan and the rest of the eastern troops at Faraway Cove, the Auradon army crossed the main bridge between the two territories and made its way to the valleys just below Bald Mountain. This was an important battle for the eastern kingdom, one they wanted to win at all costs. A victory would mean gaining access to the Enchanted Forest and finally being one step closer to Camelot's stronghold.

Ben and Doug stood upon a low hill looking down at the impressive army lined up as far as the eye could see. Ben felt the weight of the world on his shoulders as he watched the troops lining themselves up into a battle stance. This was it.

"Nervous?" Doug asked.

"A little." Ben answered honestly, fidgeting slightly on his horse. He then raised his chin and gazed at the blue skies above him for a moment. "But I'm ready!" He straightened his back and brought out his chest. He hit the side of his horse, turned one last look at his best friend and made his way down the hill. There would be no room for the weak and no mercy for the fearful. He'd trained really hard for this moment and all that was left for him to do was to use his strength and courage to strike down his enemies. He was truly ready.

**This fic was written by my partner xez2003 on Fanfiction.net. Read on at https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13341376/1/The-Black-Arrow-A-Tale-of-the-Two-Kingdoms

#descendants #disney descendants #fanfic #alternate universe #mal bertha #ben florian

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nightshadowsdomain · 7 years

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Trust is Overrated (( Closed Insane Asylum RP with Arkham-Nights ))

@arkham-nights (( For Jon )) The night was stormy and grim as the Batmobile made it's way towards Arkham Asylum. Batman had caught a new rouge that was terrorising Gotham City, he was unsure of how someone like that could do so much harm at that age. He paused his thoughts as he arrived, he hopped out and went around the back to bring out the prisoner. The self-proclaimed rogue was nothing more than a child! She was about 10 years old and already had a high body count. Not as high as seasoned rogues but well up there. A few guards were out there to recieve the newest inmate, they took the child inside and the doors shut behind them. One guard had his hand on the back of her neck to make sure she didn't run off at any point, they took her to get her new Arkham garb that she'd be wearing though it was too big for her so they were very baggy on her thin frame. They then took her to her cell. She could hear the screams and cries of other inmates which seemed to frighten her but she kept a brave face on even as she was roughly shoved into her cell. "Better tell Dr. Crane we got a new one. He may be interested in this kid. If she die before morning." One guard smirked as he and the other left the child to her thoughts. She growled and banged on the door, "HEY!! LET ME OUT! I'LL KILL YOU ALL!" But her tantrum went unheard and ignored. That's when the knockout gas flooded the asylum and she unfortunately succumbed to it.

#arkham-nights #closed rp #insane asylum #arkham asylum

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mysteriousdreaming · 8 years

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A Little Fall Of Rain [11/?]

[ Jamison is dying. Years of living in a radiation twisted hellscape have finally taken their toll, just as things where starting to get better. But among all the chaos that comes with secretly dying while trying to help save the world, he wasn’t supposed to fall in love with the order loving Vishkar agent. He wasn’t supposed to find a reason to live. ]

[Previous] [ Next ] [ Ao3 ]

I'm back from the war, and hell was it a battle.

I've been to Iceland, revised for my mock exams, DONE my mock exams and celebrated Christmas and the new year since the last chapter.

Sorry this chapter took so long (3 months i think D:), life and writers block have caused me hell, but no matter what this fic isn't being abandoned so don't worry! I hope the chapter was worth the wait, and i have some nice things planed for symmrat week too ;)

“So I guess that's it really! I'm looking forward to working with all of you!” Hana smiled finishing her speech and making her back to her seat.

She was sat beside Junkrat and Roadhog, something that had surprised everyone at the start of the briefing especially the lanky junker himself. When Junkrat had asked her why she was sitting next to him, she had just shrugged and grinned, saying he was the only person she knew and he seemed nice.

He had learnt a little more about Hana from the brief. She was 19 years old, but despite her age she was already fighting in the South Korean army against a large omic that terrorised her home. He’d considered that fairly normal until she had gone on to say how she was a ‘pro StarCraft player’ (and upcoming movie star) who, like many other korean ‘professional gamers’, had been selected to pilot a mech due to her fast reflexes.

Even after the best nights sleep he’d had in ages, he was still tired from the night before. Although not a shattered as he could have been if Mercy hadn’t helped him. When he had woken up to hog shouting at him to ‘get of his lazy arse’ the searing pain had dulled down to a far more manageable dull ache, and for once he even felt slightly refreshed. Slightly.

Winston had started off on a long and boring drawl about the next mission , and Junkrat felt his attention slipping away from the large monkey as he began to look around the room. If there was one thing he hated more than anything working here, it was the dam briefs. Sure, organisation was ‘key for a mission’ and all that shit, but fucking hell it was boring and he struggled to remember most of what was actually said when the mission finally came around sometimes a week or so later. It just seemed pointless really, especially since they always seemed to have 'update brief’ the day or night before. He wouldn't be surprised if the meetings were only for appearances, to give the team a sense of organization and unity. It would be just as easy to give a brief in the common room, but the room with a big table and lots of chairs made the whole thing feel very professional and suit-ish. If that was the reason for doing the long, boring sessions then maybe they weren't that bad in the long run. But it didn't mean they were any more enjoyable.

As his eyes darted around the room uninterested in the specifics of the next mission and any plans that didn't involve him, he noticed something, or rather the lack of something; He couldn't see Symmetra anywhere. It was unlike her to be late for a brief, or even not the first person there, and the fact she wasn't there at all strangely and annoyingly worried him. It wasn't like it really affected the mission whether she was here or not right this second, she would still get all the information she needed from Winston anyway sooner or later and that's all he should care about. But with her need for order and organisation and rules it was uncomfortably uncharacteristic. He didn't know why, but he couldn't help but be concerned about what could be up with her. The woman lived and breathed business and schedules, so missing something like this was a big deal. It just didn't sit right with him.

Roadhog seemed to notice something was up, and elbowed him roughly in the side breaking him out of his thoughts. “Whats up?”

“Symm ain’t here,” he mumbled only partially paying attention to his large friend and having another look around the room incase he had somehow missed her. “And you know what suits are like, they dont miss shit like this.”

“So you're worried?” The large junker huffed, sounding unimpressed.

“What? No, why would I be worried about a suit? Just being nosey that's all” The lanky junker shrugged almost sheepishly, sliding back in his chair and not fooling his bodyguard with his bluff.

Roadhog gave him long stare before turning his own attention back to the meeting, while Junkrat went back to twiddling his thumbs and picking the paint on his prosthetic hand, scowling at the flaky orange acrylic like a small child. Why was he concerned? It wasn't like he didn't have his own bigger problems to worry about (not that he wanted to think about that too long) and apart from Mercy he still didn't trust, or even like, most of the team enough to to worry about silly stuff like this.

So why was Symmetra different?

She hadn't exactly been nice to him during his time at overwatch so far, calling him a savage was probably best example of this, but at the same time she had helped him out with his leg when he needed it most. Hell, he still couldn't wrap his head around the fact she didn't want anything in return for the beautifully crafted bolt that now shimmered with every step he took. Back home no one did anything for anyone out of the goodness of their heart, ‘cept the occasional kind soul who would help out the ragged children that lived almost in packs in the town. If someone did you a 'good turn’, you had to pay em back one way or another if you didn't want a knife in your back.

He thought suits would be the same, just as evil but with less actual stabbing, and his and Hog’s experience in Sydney seemed to confirm that. But despite her stuck up nature, for some reason Symm didn't seem like the suits he had met in the past. Even her calling him a savage, while extremely harsh and fucking rude, was somewhat (annoyingly) understandable. Even Mercy who was arguably the kindest and most understanding member of the recall team, gave the two junkers a strange look when they first arrived at the watchpoint covered in weeks worth of soot and grime and with enough firepower between them for a small army. With shit like that he couldn't really blame her. Symm had probably known luxury her whole life, or the very least the things he considered luxury; Hot food, running water a nice clean bed you can feel safe in at the end of the day. People seemed to forget that he sometimes found ‘civilized’ folks as strange as they found him.

Maybe it was just because he had spent so much time around her. Long silent hours sitting in the workshop together may have made him learn more about other people than he realised. He’d never been good in social situations. Not as a kid, not as lanky, pesky, teen and especially not as an adult. Sharing the workshop with two cranky builders really forced him to learn when to stop. If one of them snapped at him the whole mood of the workshop changed to something a lot more sour and uncomfortable, so he had started to try and find ways to keep his energy under control. Humming had gotten annoying fast, and so had tapping the table while he was thinking, so he had begun to bounce his leg a lot more frequently than normal. It helped, but wasn't very satisfying.

A large hand clamped own on his shoulder scaring the shit out of him, shaking him out of his thoughts and making him almost fall out of his chair. His reaction was met with a bubbly giggle from next to him, which was surprisingly joined by a hoarse, throaty laugh from his other side. He saw mercy walking away from near them and narrowed his eyes at Roadhog. The two better not have been speaking about more shit behind his back.

“Lost in ya own little world Ratboy?” Hana playfully teased, still bent over laughing and oblivious to his glare “Come on, brief is over, it’s time for breakfast and I’m starving!”

Junkrat opened his mouth to reply, but closed it again and gave her a puzzled look, his attention taken away from whatever Mercy and Roadhog were talking about“Ratboy?”

“Yes! It’s your new nickname!”

“What, like old pig face over here?”

She winced rubbing the back of her head with a wary smile. “...That seems more like an insult to me…” He could tell by the look on her face that while she may have been open to him, Roadhog was still rather intimidating. He didn’t blame her. The guy was huge, carried around a hook almost as big as her and had a pig mask covering his face.

He wasn't really a vision of comfort.

“Nah, You don’t mind, do you Hog?” He cupped a hand around the side of his mouth and turned to her with a mock whisper that realy wasn’t much quieter than his actual whisper “He’s a big softie really, not as big and scary when he’s knitting by the fire.”

The large junker let out an angry snort and just glared from behind his mask at his boss who completely ignored the lingering stare, making Hana burst into another fit of laughter while Junkrat stood with a silly lopsided grin plastered on his face. He always loved it when he managed to make people laugh. It brought back foggy, but good, memories of his old life. Of his mother, with her soft face and kind eyes that crinkled when she laughed at his silly antics. With some of the memories he had of his old life he couldn't tell whether they were real, or just remnants of nights spent wishing to be normal as a kid. But these memories were different. They were just so real they had to be true.

He nearly fell off his pegleg when Hana suddenly grabbed his wrist and began to pull him towards the mess hall and away from his thoughts, starling him for a second time.

“Come on! I haven't eaten since i got here last night, I’ll just eat you if you don’t hurry up.”

He was pretty hungry for once, and his appetite was coming back. Maybe breakfast was a good idea after all.

Symmetra looked as battered and ragged as she felt. Her hair was was a frizzy and slightly matted mess, and she had no energy to do her makeup, making the dark marks under her eyes very noticeable. She was absolutely exhausted. All through the night she had been suffering from a phantom pain that smothered the end of her arm. It had kept her awake most of the night rolling uncomfortably in her bed. She had even tried to get up and use the time wisely by working, and although it had managed to distract her from the pain in her arm it had meant she never got round to sleeping, until about five in the morning when she passed out on her desk, her head using the pile of papers in front of her as a pillow. Dropping off so late meant that she completely and hopelessly overslept. Her alarm had broken meaning she had woken up at ten, a time that would be severely punished back at Vishkar. What made it even worse was the amount of missed calls on her phone from Lena. There had been a breif she had missed, and she was mortified.

After throwing on her uniform in a mad hurry, with only just enough time to make sure it looked presentable, she dashed as fast as she could down to the mess hall where breakfast was unfortunately in full swing. She got a bowl of plain cereal, not wanting to make her lateness any more obvious, and sat down by Mei who was busy talking to Angela . As much as she preferred privacy and keeping to herself, she always felt a lot more comfortable in a social situation if she was next to someone she knew, sitting quite happily on the sidelines. She was fine to just sit in silence as the two women talked about the meeting she had missed. That was another thing she would have gotten in a lot of trouble for back at vishkar. Missing a meeting, even a small, insignificant one, would often result in disciplinary action. She would have to try and remember to apologize dearly to Winston for her absence. The gorilla was not as harsh as her superiors back at vishkar, but he still may be annoyed at her for missing what sounded extremely important.

She let out a small sigh and tried to rub more sleep out of her eyes and clear the cobwebs from her brain, focusing on the cereal in front of her. It was bland and boring. She had forgotten to add any fruit or even sugar and the cornflakes were slowly melting into a horrible mushy mass the longer she left them. Her weary attention drifted to her prosthetic arm with its sleek white design and complex parts. She was lucky it was semi-permanently attached to her or she would have forgotten it in her rush to get ready. It had been created to be as comfortable as possible, with synthetic nerves so delicate that she would sometimes forget that it wasn't real. Of course, not being able to remove her arm without specialist tools did have some down sides (she could remember numerous times where she had been harshly woken in the middle of the night by cold metal pressed against her cheek), but even with the few set backs she would take Vishkar’s technology over a primitive prosthetic like Junkrat’s anyday.

Not that his prosthetic didn't impress her, quite the opposite, it almost infuriated her how he could create not just his arm but also his leg from only scrap and odd tools. It seemed like he could just pick up any scrap and make it into an invention, bomb or some other piece of equipment; His talent was completely his own and he was extremely talented. It had been on her mind ever since she had looked at his notebook. The mad chaos of his creatively allowed him to do things and come up with ideas that, in her mind, should not be possible with just old parts. He could make an old tire and a car engine into an annoyingly efficient weapon. No matter what she did she knew part of her skills were due to the technology she had in her hand, any idea she had relied on Vishkar to become a reality. Her blessing was also her curse in a way. If she wanted to create something, she was bound almost completely by the limits of hard light technology. Without them what was she? The little girl picking tourists pockets in the slums of India? The thought disgusted her. That life was long gone and she didn't need think about it. She was a civilised business woman at the top of a respectable company. She wasn't a criminal like the Junkers.

Thinking of the two mad australians she looked up from her disappointing breakfast and over to where they were sitting. They were at their usual seat right at the back of the large mess hall and as far from zenyatta and genji as they could get, preferring to keep their distance from anyone else in general. It was such an odd group. A lanky arsonist with flaming hair, a larger than life man in a leather pig mask and a small korean girl…

Wait what?

She suddenly snapped out of her sleepy state and her eyes locked onto the girl with a bewildered expression on her face. Who the heck was that? Something about her did seem mildly familiar, like they may have met at a gala or passed in the street, but she defiantly hadn’t seen her here before. Mei seemed to notice her confusion and gave her a light tap on the shoulder, getting her attention.

“You’ve finally noticed the new recruit then.” She smiled with a slight laugh “She’s called Hana Song, she introduced herself in the briefing this morning.” the scientist took a small bite of her pancake before continuing “Where were you this morning anyway?”

Symmetra absentmindedly moved her fingers over to where her prosthetic conecte to her arm, stroking the divide between smother metal and warm skin and remembering the pain that still lingered. Even though most of it had dissipated there was still a small twinge of ache left there from the night before. “I was doing some late night work and simply lost track of the time. My alarm breaking did not help and it seemed i missed quite a few calls from Lena aswell.” she paused, messing nervously with the complex panels “ Do you think winston will be disappointed? It was very unprofessional of me to miss a meeting this important.”

Mercy gave her a soft and reassuring smile “Well he may be a little grumpy, but he always has been when he’s stressed. He won't be too fussed as long as you go to him and get what you need on the mission.” She tucked a strand of blond hair behind her ear and looked over to where Hana was sitting “You may want to introduce yourself too. I think you and Hana will get along quite well”

She gave them both a nod, making the decision to abandon her disappointing breakfast. It was barely touched anyway, and she wasn't really that hungry. She got up out of her seat and walked over to the table were the odd group was sitting, trying to avoid looking at a Junkrat who was looking more excitable the closer she got. With the way he was rapidly jiggling his leg she was sure he would fly out of his seat like some bizarre cartoon character any minute.

“Ay! Metra! You’r looking lovely this morning!” With his comment she remembered how much of a mess she must have looked and was about to give him a glare when she realised how genuine his smile and comment was. Instead of trying to be sarcastic it seemed like he was trying to be genuinely kind to her. Sure, it was probably because he noticed how much of a state she looked, but he wasn't taking it as an opportunity for a joke at her expense. And she was oddly grateful.

“Good morning, I heard we had a new member to our team. Sorry i missed the meeting this morning, I overslept.” She turned to Hana and held out her hand “I’m am Satya Vaswani, it’s a pleasure to be working with you in the near future”

The young woman seemed a little taken back at the formality but quickly took her and and shook it enthusiastically. “Pleasure to meet you too! I'm Hana Song!”

“She is amazing Metra!” Junkrat piped up, barely audible with most of a pancake shoved in his mouth, sticky syrup running down his chin. “She's a mecka pilot, movie star and a professional gamer.” She couldn’t help but cringe when he used the back of his hand to wipe the golden mess away. It was taking every fiber of her being not to lean over the table with a napkin and sort the issue out properly.

She turned her attention back to Hana, trying to ignore the walking disaster. “You play videogames for a living? That's….interesting” she noticed Hana's smile faltered a little and felt a slight twinge of guilt “It must be fun doing something you love as a job.”

“Oh its awesome! Fighting in my mech can be fun too, but also scary, you never know when people are going to get hurt. But sometimes that’s what it takes to make things safer.”

Her words struck symmetra a little. ‘you never know when people are going to get hurt. But sometimes that’s what it takes to make things safer’

Those words she had heard many times from Sanjay in one form or another when talking about what had happened in Rio de Janeiro. He told her the lives that had been lost and ruined there were, while sad, necessary sacrifices for them to bring order to the slums. He had to be telling the truth, but since they had been driven out of the city the citizens seemed to be getting on alright by themselves. Had they done the right thing by interfering? So many people had got hurt but things were just as they were before. If they hadn't have gotten involved maybe that little girl wouldn't have been scarred for life. The thought made it feel like someone was twisting a knife in her stomach.

Roadhog almost seemed to notice her being uncomfortable and tried to change the subject “Where were you?” He grumbled, lifting his mask just enough to take a sip of tea from a small cup.

“When?”

Junkrat grinned “This morning, for the meeting, ain’t like you to be late.”

She sighed, smoothing some hair away from her face and sitting down at the table. She folded her hands neatly in her lap “I couldn't sleep, so i worked all night. Unfortunately I fell asleep and my alarm didn't go off.” She was still embarrassed about her lateness, and really didn’t want to be talking about it, but it was better than letting her mind wander.

“Why couldn’t you sleep?”

This time Symmetra did give the hyperactive jester an annoyed scowl, he had such an unprofessional attitude it wound her up. “Why are you so nosey?”

“Just part of my charming personality, that’s all” He shrugged cheekily, making Hana laugh. “And you say I need to be more of a team player! Im being caring .” he had a look on his face that reminded Symmetra of the Chesire Cat and the last word was drawn out, highlighting his accent in a long drawl.

“Well it’s not that charming, it’s infuriating. I had phantom pain in my arm if you must know. I was a wake, so i made use of my time and dealt with some my work.”

At the mention of the phantom pain Junkrat’s eyes lit up.” You got that too? Kinda creepy.” He noticed her confused expression and let out a mad laugh, stuffing another whole pancake into his mouth. “I got that shit too last night, was a pain in the ass. Went to mercy and she sorted me right out. You should go to her in the future, make sure you don't miss any more meetings”

“Maybe that would have been best, but it was a blessing in disguise. I had a lot of work to catch up on and most of it is now finished.” She hoped her answer would be sufficient enough and turned to Hana in an attempt to change the subject. “So, why do you want to join the recall. I hope it’s not offending to say you look too young to have been on the original team. Surely being a celebrity would be safer than this.”

Hana paused for a second, surprised by the sudden change. “Well, I guess I just want to help yaknow? Stop all the bad stuff that's happening.” Her eyes seemed to look a little sadder “There's already an omic still destroying my home, and things in Russia aren't looking too good. The future isn't looking to good in general right now, maybe we can change that.”

The mention of omnics seemed spark emotion in the junkers as well. Anger.

“Ye, its the stupids bots fault. The whole world is falling apart because of them. They should go back to the scrap heap!” Junkrat raised his voice for the last part, obviously trying to get the attention of the student master duo on the other side of the hall. Genji seemed ready to walk over and confront him but was stopped by his master while the lanky junker giggled manically, earning a harsh shove from his bodyguard. “What!”

“Knock it off.” The larger junker grumbled while Junkrat was left furiously rubbing away the pain in his arm. “You wouldn't last in a fight with him.”

“Bet i would.” He grumbled annoyed, his ego as hurt as his arm “And anyway thats a silly question, we’re all here for the same reason. Fighting the good fight.”

Symmetra rolled her eyes at his comment, trying not to laugh “I thought you and Roadhog were hired mercenaries here for the money.”

The lanky jester put his hand to his heart in mock offence, letting out a small gasp. “Excuse you. I am here for the greater good and nothing more. Although the money is a good perk. I’m a freedom fighter, a misunderstood one, but a freedomfighter nonetheless.”

Hana let out a laugh and she couldn’t help but join her, “Criminal, thief and arsonist you mean.” But even as she said the words she knew they weren’t one hundred percent true. He was definitely a criminal and an annoyance, but he also seemed to have many tricks and talents hidden away. She couldn’t help but wonder what other secrets the junker had.Maybe the bomb crazy maniac actually was a freedom fighter after all. After all, they did know the job they were walking into. So did she. But was she here of her own will like them, or just because Vishkar needed to keep an eye on their funds.

Was she really here to make the world a better place? Or was she just a ‘suit’ sitting on the sidelines? The thought of not knowing the answer scared her.

#junkmetra #symmrat #junkrat #symmetra #a little fall of rain #Overwatch #/cancer #/death

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literatehiss · 4 years

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Trust Fall

Read on AO3 here Anyone who knew him could tell you that Simon Fairchild was not the sort of man you would want looking after children. He is still pretty sure he could do better than the Lukas' though. Simon meets and hangs out with a confused 8 year-old Peter.

Little Peter was lonely.

This wasn’t unusual. His parents paid no attention to him, his siblings were all too old or too young to play with him and the few members of the staff he became fond of were swiftly replaced.

It was a brisk spring morning, and Peter’s latest nanny had vanished the night before. No one had replaced her yet which meant Peter was free to spend his day however he liked until someone eventually thought about him.

He didn’t hold much hope of that happening.

He had turned eight only a few months prior, a dull occasion filled with expensive presents that he opened by himself in his room, alone, like usual. One of the gardeners that he had liked to talk to had snuck him a roughly made cloth cat that Peter had hidden under his bed like everything he didn’t want his parents to take from him.

The gardener didn’t last until the end of the day. He didn’t even make it off the grounds of the estate.

He pulled the cat out from under his bed every night, playing with its soft ears and mismatched eyes, hugging it close to his chest as he fell asleep.

He found it burning in the dining room three nights ago.

The only surprise he could muster was that it had lasted as long as it had. It wasn’t until he was safe in his room that Peter released the tight ball of grief, muffling his tears into a pillow. His nanny had caught him crying and had taken him to his parents, concerned. He had tried to pull away from her grip around his shoulders but she wouldn’t relent. Peter had hastily dried his tears on the way to his parents’ room, knowing that he would be punished for such a show of sentimentality.

He stood there under his mother’s glare as his nanny suggested that Peter might need friends, connections, that something might be wrong with the little boy.

She had been swiftly dismissed and Peter had spent the rest of the day in the dusty old attic amongst all the other things the Lukas family didn’t want.

The attic was nothing more than a swiftly fading repressed memory now as he poked the tip of his boot into a muddy puddle, the frozen surface cracking and crunching under the pressure. Peter walked on, past the gardens and the cemetery, past the trees that his younger siblings had carved their names into, desperate to be remembered.The rough tread of his boots skidded in the mud as he slid on the slight hill that led down to the lake. It took him a while, but eventually he clambered up a tree that sat so close to the water’s edge that he could see its roots running under the murky water.

It was peaceful up here, quiet and still as he looked out over the rippling surface of the lake. His eyes closed, embracing the solitude.

It was at this moment he felt the thick branch he was sitting on, shift slightly with the weight of another creature. He jerked away in alarm, closed eyes slamming open as he turned to look at the intruder of his peace.

The man who had seemed to drop in from nowhere, was old. Much older than uncle Nathaniel and he was the oldest person Peter knew. He didn’t seem worried about his light blue suit getting dirty as he settled down onto the tree branch.

“Now, I don’t believe we have met young man. You’ve definitely got the look of a Lukas though, so I’ll presume you arn’t a particularly unwise intruder.” The man laughed. Peter looked at him. The man looked back. Peter had never had to introduce himself to anyone before.

“Alright then, the good old Lukas silent treatment I see,” he let go of the branch, swaying slightly and Peter panicked that the man was going to fall off. He reached over, grabbing Peter’s hand from its firm hold on the branch he was sat on, giving him a firm handshake, “The name is Simon Fairchild. Now, I know you lot are not exactly fond of social interaction, but it is normally polite to give your own name at this point.”

He gave a quiet mumble of “Peter” which caused the man, Simon, to finally stop shaking his hand. Peter ripped his hand away to grip the branch again.

“Peter is it? Lovely, just lovely. You like the water Peter?” he said, nodding at the now still water of the lake.

“Mhm,” he just hummed a vague affirmative which unfortunately didn’t seem to dissuade the man from talking.

“Have you ever seen the ocean Peter?” Simon was searching his pockets for something as he talked, not holding onto the branch at all.

Peter shook his head, but realising that the man was no longer looking at him he just let out a quiet “no”, watching the man pull out a pocketwatch to check the time. Peter then proceeded to have a minor heart-attack as the man jumped off the branch. Visions of broken bones being blamed on him flashed before his eyes.

Laughter.

“Come on down Peter, I think its about time you headed home and I have the pleasure of a meeting with Nathaniel.” peter looked down to see Simon looking perfectly unharmed.

By the time he had scrambled down the tree, Simon had pulled an umbrella from somewhere and had put it up just in time for the first few splatters of rain to hit it.

Peter hadn’t realised how far the lake was from the house until he was forced to walk home with someone else rather than walking alone. Peter flushed a little as his tummy growled with hunger.

“You must have been out here all day lad. Now it has been quite some time since I was your age, but shouldn’t you have someone watching you?”

Peter shrugged.

“No-one cares as long as I’m home before dark.” he could hear air whistle through the man’s teeth, his jaw clenched.

“Well they should. You could have gotten hurt.” Simon looked down at Peter with a sad look in his eyes that looked wrong on a face so clearly used to excitement and joy. Peter had no response to that. He could have gotten hurt, and he would have had to drag himself back to the house just to be ignored by his parents and coldly patched up by whatever member of the staff was around at the time.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Simon seemed to be able to sense his discomfort and switched topic, chattering about the sea and the sky and art and space and many other things Peter didn’t really understand. Simon’s strides were much longer than his own but the elderly man slowed for him, always making sure his umbrella covered Peter from the rain.

It was only once they got in view of the old house that Simon drew away slightly, finishing his lecture on why landscape art was clearly superior to portraits.

Peter wasn’t sure if he didn’t agree or he simply didn’t care.

Either way, Simon drew away and when Peter looked up at him curiously he gave the young boy a quick grin.

“Wouldn’t want you to get in trouble lad.”

The walk up to the house was spent in silence and as soon as Simon opened the door a maid appeared to hurry Peter away from Nathaniel’s guest.

Peter got one more glance of Simon before he was ushered towards his room. The man just stood there in the entrance hall, staring at him, brow furrowed as if in deep thought before he strode into Uncle Nathaniel's office.

Simon had known the Lukas family for as long as they had worshipped the Forsaken, all the way back to Mordechai. He had known, in theory, that their children couldn’t be happy to create such cold and lonely adults, but Peter had broken the shrivelled remains of his heart.

He might be a monster but he still had standards. Children didn’t need to be terrorised, they were already scared of almost everything, all of the time. He didn’t see the point. Wait a few years and you got a much richer, more complex fear.

This was an excuse really.

Peter reminded him of Mordechai before the man had been lost to the Forsaken completely. Curious and proud. Introvert ed for sure, but friendly enough to those he was close to. The young boy might not have a future in academia but he was a bright lad.

If the Lukas’ got their way, they would crush what little personality the boy had by the time he reached adulthood. Simon had met a few of the younger members of the Lukas’ through the years, and at this point he could tell which of the children the family would just discard and which would have their isolation nurtured until most of the joy and life in them was sucked dry. Peter was definitely part of the latter group. If the boy hadn’t of been, Simon might have been tempted to snap the kid up for the Fairchilds. It would have ruffled some feathers but no one would have cared too much. But he could tell the family had plans for Peter, and so he could do nothing for the poor lad.

Simon had never been great with time, it was all meaningless in the grand scheme of things, but he was pretty sure the lad hadn’t grown much by the next time he saw him. So it couldn’t have been too long.

H e had just left yet another boring meeting with Nathaniel when he literally stumbled into Peter, the young boy catching himself on the wall before could fall over. The young Lukas heir’s face was passive but his eyes were red and his face was wet. Simon tugged him along with him as he walked.

“What’s wrong Peter?” The boy’s voice was dull and emotionless as he spoke.

“My brother is gone.”

“Gone?” Simon felt his heart drop.

“Don’t know where. Mother says they were sent away. Diane says Mother and Father had them hurt.” Simon was vaguely aware of Diane being one of Peter’s two older sisters. He hoped she was just messing with the young boy, and that they had just sent the child away. He wasn’t sure he could face the idea of the Lukas’ murdering their young children. He didn’t know what to do. Any expectation of Peter opening up emotionally was laughable. They walked further down the hall before Simon stopped them suddenly. Eh might not be able or willing to do anything to fix the problems with the Lukas Family, but he could certainly make this one little boy a bit happier. He searched through his pockets for a scrap of paper and wrote down a location which he stuck to the door of Peter’s room as they passed it.

“Do you remember our talk last time about whether you had seen the ocean or not? Would you like to?” Peter looked up curiously but nodded.

Simon was aware this wasn’t wise.

But screw it, you only live once (unless you are Jonah of course).

Simon laughed at the sensation of free-fall that he loved so much, only just remembering to steady Peter when they eventually landed back on solid ground. Peter let out a little panicked squeak.

“Where are we?”

“Dover, so we haven’t gone too far, don’t worry.”

Simon took a few steps and sat down on the stark white cliffs, gesturing Peter over to sit next to him.

T hey didn’t talk about anything important. Simon asked about Peter’s schooling while Peter asked about Simon’s shipping company. They sat there for hours until the sun began to set and a black car rumbled up behind them. Simon sniffed in irritation.

“Took them long enough. Well Peter this was a delight as usual. I’ll see you soon lad.”

The last thing Peter saw of Simon before he stepped into the chauffeured car, was Simon stepping straight off the cliff edge and vanishing into the cold sea air.

#Simon Fairchild #Peter Lukas #cw: child neglect #NaNo 2020

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