#bcautius

Adjusting to the longterm company of strangers had not been easy for the Beast, though he had since resigned himself to the presence of the two females in his group. Ruby had come first, all youthful exuberance and optimism about their shared curse—and Blake, the cat, had been their most recently acquired companion.

He’d fully intended to leave her where they’d found her. More mouths to feed, he’d said derisively, to which he’d only received a look from the Rose. They both knew he had plenty of money to burn between all three of them, and besides, she’d chimed, she has a curse to break too.

Her predicament was an inconvenient one, that much Adam had been forced to admit as time wore on. To be mortal only at night and then turned to an animal for the duration of daylight… Yes, he knew his share of suffering when it came to beastly transformations. Hers was nothing so macabre, but still…

The cat had been silent in the safety of his shirt for the past few hours as he’d checked the perimeter of their newest dwelling. Abandoned cabins were not uncommon near these woods, but they were often abandoned for good reason. 

All ignorance his princely childhood had allowed of him had been wiped away with his greater humanity when the curse had been thrust upon him, so Adam was all too aware of what might lurk near them. It took a monster to know the truth of what other monsters were capable of.

So he stalked through the woods, quiet as death and almost as deadly. It was a good sign, he thought, that nature remained noisy and active around them; there had only been a few instances of complete silence as he’d journeyed past, and it was those areas that he’d pinned down as potential threats on his mental map. Relatively safe compared to other places they’d had to sleep before. Still, it would do them well to remain quiet and on guard. Perhaps take turns keeping watch while the others slept?

A meow pierced the quiet and he was torn from his musing, masked gaze dipping to the bundle of fur nestled in his shirt. Intelligent golden eyes met his own. Adam steeled himself against the power such a gaze could hold—no, he told himself firmly, he would not risk their lives in a potentially dangerous forest in order to coddle the feline just because she felt neglected. That he’d let her come with him at all was already an error of judgment that should never have been allowed.

She meowed again.

The Beast grunted in annoyance—why did he let Ruby convince him to keep this creature? why were cats cute?—and reached up, nudging a gloved digit beneath her soft chin to pet the cat accordingly. His motion would continue until Blake began to purr, and only then did he retract his touch.

“Hush,” he said in a decidedly grumpy manner. “You’ve gotten what you wanted. Try not to get us killed with noise now and I’m sure Ruby will pet you plenty later.”

send me a champ!

overwatch starters. | accepting. 

He’d thought this moment would be more satisfying.

She’d evaded capture more times than he’d liked, had made an embarrassment of him during what should have been another of his triumphs, and yet… Now that he had her at his mercy there was no euphoria. Bitterness hung as sticky and black as tar upon his tongue. Such a realization was difficult for him to swallow. Revenge, he mused, had always been sweet to him—but there was nothing here to savor. The hollow pit in his chest seemed to howl in response, piercing him with demands to understand why. Why was this not as he’d imagined in the years since her defection?

Why did she leave? Why wouldn’t she come back?

She was right there, right in front of him, but it wasn’t enough. Because there were chains on her wrists—she was a prisoner, not his willing accomplice, and it felt dirty. In their youth he had promised her liberation, but now… it had come to this. Adam exhaled as he paced behind her, fingers light as they drifted over Blush. White Fang extremism demanded execution, but he was High Leader now and he decided the punishment for her crimes.

The reminder made his hand drop to his side. Yes. Punishment. He’d already chosen his path in regards to Blake Belladonna. There was no reason to snuff her life out while her little friends were still around. Something weak within him shivered in relief at the realization. He had been foolishly short sighted about his bringing her here, but it was a mistake he could recover from. Perhaps his prisoner would give him new perspective as to the state of his enemies being one herself.

He’d almost achieved a sense of accomplishment when she’d decided to speak—like rain dousing his parade, gum in the hair, mud lodged in the creases of his boot. Blake had never spoken in whispers, and even now it remained true. Her voice was steady on the lie as she spoke it, and it was a lie—it had to be, because if it were the truth it made everything all the more unforgivable.

I miss you greatly.

His peace shattered. Adam pivoted where he stood, long legs carrying him from his position behind her to her front. He crouched, hand reaching out to snatch her jaw in a firm, yet strangely gentle grip—like a lover, or a mocking torturer. Perhaps he was both. He would not let himself think about it too deeply; it was clear she did not consider his feelings when she spoke so carelessly.

“I know what you’re doing,” he told her, voice rough despite its quiet. “And it’s not going to work. Begging won’t save you. Are you trying to appeal to my better nature? Do you consider me a merciful man, Blake?”

He lifted her chin when she would look away. Look at me, something in him seemed to scream—the broken man, the abandoned child; he knew not which he was more of when he was with her. The flesh beneath his fingertips whitened at the edges, and Adam loosened his grip—jerked back and to a stand as if in disgust. Let her think it. Better than her observing a moment of weakness.

                                                                                                     Oh, this is my jam!

    If we go down then we go down together     They’ll say you could do anything     They’ll say that I was clever     If we go down then we go down together     We’ll get away with everything     Let’s show them we are better

They were young, and she—untouched by burden as of yet, still soft with idealism. The words passed between them in their shared silence, and between each syllable Adam fancied himself a distraction with the wind. Covered as he was, it barely effected him, though enjoyment could be found in the smaller things. The tickle of crimson across his nape, the cool kiss it left slipping along his bared cheek.

Adam looked down at his neatly folded hands and contemplated believing her.

A foolish notion, he thought—though maybe one driven by the time she’d spent with him. Perhaps she thought he carried guilt for the acts he’d done in the days leading up to this moment. Self-defense, he’d quoted to her queasy expression. He’d never seen Blake so shaken up. Telling her the blood wasn’t his own hadn’t eased her uncertainty, had done nothing to stop her worried hands as she used a cloth to wash it off.

He did not regret the things he’d done, and it was there the inconsistencies lied. There were many things the feline faunus did not know about him. Things that he might never tell her. What sins did she see when she looked at him? What bodies did she think his soul might lay the blame of guilt upon? Adam considered the humans he’d laid to waste, the disengaged way he had dug through pockets for access keys… obstacles, impersonal. A bridge to the thing he’d need. No, he knew. He felt no guilt for them.

The guilt he carried—his monstrosity—was something older, something lost much longer to death. How wretched a thing, weakness—cowardice and trembling limbs. Childish inferiorities. Adam exhaled softly, and beneath his mask felt his lashes flutter, slide shut. Darkening the bright green world around him as his back found purchase upon soil and grass. Not once did he look at her.

“Perhaps,” he said, then nothing more, silence eclipsing them like a curtain.

Gloved digits would curl beneath the feline faunus’s chin, tipping it up—nowhere near his height, but close enough for him to reach. A reward worth lowering himself for. Warm lips would press to hers, humor curving his lips and dancing through his breath as a soft puff of a laugh escaped him.