Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi & Anakin Skywalker
Characters: Darth Vader, Anakin Skywalker
Additional Tags: Suicide, Major Character Injury, Depictions of Injuries
Summary: Anakin and Vader fight for control over the body that they both seem to be in control of. Who will win?
You didn’t kill Anakin Skywalker, I did.
Anakin dropped to his knees. Each breath he took unassisted was like he was like breathing in the fires of Mustafar all over again. Ten years. He had spent ten years fighting off whatever darkness that had come over him. There didn’t seem to be a word for what he had been feeling back when he was younger but now, as he struggled to breath outside of the mask, he knew that whatever it had been was some hormone fueled rage. But now his body was broken. He could barely breath on his own now. The machine hooked up to him was too much of a reminder of that. He placed a hand over his heart as if it wouldn’t beat without it there. His eyes scanned the ground as if remnants of Vader had bled out onto the ground below him.
Anakin peeled off whatever parts of the suit that no longer served him any good. Each movement aching as he crawled his way to where he had been left again but the one person he wanted to be around. He needed Obi-Wan but his body was too weak from the fight. Each moment that passed wasn’t going to make him feel any better. He wasn’t going to feel any better if he were going to stay here either. He kept crawling as much as his body would let him. He had open wounds and a cough that lasted longer than his life at this point. His body breaking with each movement he made. It felt like he was falling apart at the seams and there was no way he could get out of this. He had done this to himself. He had killed the one he loved and betrayed another because of what? Some misguided attempt to protect them? He wasn’t in any place to save himself and those damned tanks could do nothing to save his internal injuries.
Each time he coughed, it felt like someone had taken a lightsaber is his throat. Pain shot down through his throat and to his stomach. Each time he breathed in a whole new fire. The fire of a thousand suns and it felt like his body had finally felt all of the pain he was supposed to feel that night on Mustafar. He had been far too angry to feel angry at the time and he was too filled with other emotion to feel any of the pain in his body that night and now…now it felt all too real. All too real for anything.
Anakin rolled over onto his back. Skin slipped off of his chest and stuck to the ground below him. His eyes flickered up to the stars above him. His mind still fighting off Vader as he struggled to breath. There was someone in his mind who had been fighting him ever since he was a child. Someone who had been brewing inside of him for a longer time than he could have ever thought. He had no reason to live anymore. Obi-Wan had turned his back on him and Vader had convince him that he had died. That the Anakin inside of him had died. That the friend whom he had for nearly half of his life was gone.
But he hadn’t died. He was never fully quashed. He had never stamped down the man he had hated. The man he had become because of the anger he had felt all those years ago. There was no way he was going to let that son of a bitch get the best of him. Even when Obi-Wan turned his back on him and Vader had tried to take over, there was no way he was going to let him win. The obvious lie that Vader had told Obi-Wan so that he could never, ever see Anakin as the man who had been raised by him, had been given the chance of a life outside of slavery because of him. He didn’t have to take on the life that killed his mother.
“Why,” the voice slipped out of his mouth. The voice rattling his fried vocal cords. The sky that he had been focusing on flashed red. “Do not disobey me, Anakin.”
“Leave,” the sky returned to it’s navy blue color and the stars turned bright white as it used to be. Tears pricked at his eyes as he pushed Vader to the back of his mind. “Leave me alone, please.”
There was some part of him that knew Vader would never be able to leave him alone. If nothing else, he needed Vader in the back of his mind for the rest of his goddamned life. There was no way he was going to survive with half of him gone. The half of him that he didn’t even know he could work on his own. He was going to get out of there but his legs and arms were locked to the ground.
“Obi-Wan,” a half-mechanical voice called out into the sky. A call for help that would never come. A cry for someone who will never come to his aid ever again. Someone who never knew that Anakin was still in there. The sky turned blood red. A red he only ever saw once before when he was told his wife had passed away. “Obi-WAN!”
He had no one out there to help him. Not even his own children knew that he was alive. The dad that killed for them. The dad that died for them. The dad that so desperately wanted to find them so that he could tell them one day about how he had fucked up so bad that he had never even thought about coming home to them. He wanted to be the man his kids loved. He wanted to be there for them. He needed them to be careful. They were no doubt force sensitive and they would be in danger from all sides. From the Jedi that wanted to keep them safe, the ones who wanted to shield them all too well to the ones who had no intention of telling them of their parentage to the Sith who he had sent out to hunt them, the ones who had every intention of killing them as soon as they had laid eyes on them.
Anakin tried wiggling his decaying body towards the lightsaber he had dropped onto the ground with the rest of his suit. His bare skin burning as the dirt dug into his skin. Every movement had burned since he had been burned on Mustafar. Even if the scars weren’t as visible anymore, the pain they had caused still remained. A deep ache had entered his body long before the burns had settled in and once Obi-Wan sealed his fate by cutting off his legs, he never felt the same ever again.
“Please, let me go,” Anakin whispered. “I shall not be your vessel anymore. I dare not be your vessel anymore. Leave my body now.”
“No,” the voice rumbled Anakin’s ever broken ribcage. “I feast off of your soul like food. There is no one as strong as you.”
“You mean no one as weak as me,” Anakin turned his head to the destruction around him.
“Do you think anyone could have survived those injuries? Anyone but you. The galaxy chose you.”
“I didn’t ask for that. I never asked for anything. I didn’t want any of this and I never wanted any of you meddling in my damn life.”
“You are free because of me. You have children because of me. Everything you have was because of me,” Vader snapped back. “You are the most feared person in the galaxy because of me.”
No, I’m only powerful because of my love. I love and I loved deeply. The only reason I was even able to survive this long was because of love. My children are out there and I am going to find them no matter how long it takes. No matter what happens. Vader is never going to keep me from my children. I love them. The idea entered his head before he could even fully think out the implications of a move like that. Anakin reached out for the saber once more and the cool metal came into contact with his hand. The saber buzzed to life in his hand and he placed it over his neck…their neck. I must do this for them. Even if Vader is lying, I have to do this for them. I must.
“Don’t you dare,” Vader resisted Anakin’s force. “If I die, you die.”
“That’s what I am counting on.”
Anakin dragged the lightsaber across his neck. The fire of a thousand suns filled his throat once more. It was as if he had swallowed the lava from Mustafar and although he had never thought about it before, this was the pain he had inflicted on others. Not even losing his arm had hurt this much. Two sets of goal cords wanted to scream out in rage. Anakin bit back tears. His eyes freezing on the sky above him.
Anakin took in a deep, aching breath as if he hadn’t taken one in hours. His body set up as he looked over the ground he had spilled his blood on. The blood had dried on the ground beneath him. Have I died? Anakin didn’t feel dead. He didn’t feel like a person anymore. He felt like something more. He felt like…he felt like a human being. Someone connected to the force and not bound by the force around him. He felt like how everyone around him had told him he should feel when he was connected to the force. He felt at peace. Why did he feel like he was at peace if he was dead?
For the past ten years he had been weighed down so heavily by the person who had been holding all the power over him. He…he didn’t know what he was going to do. He didn’t think that he was going to survive a move like that. Hell, he didn’t want to. It was the one life he wanted out of and yet…the galaxy had decided he was going to live. Maybe he had been been the chosen one. The way Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon had sought him out…they had seen something special in him that had somehow survived the stupidest stunt he had ever thought of in his life. On one hand, he would have killed both him and Vader in one fall swoop and on the other hand, he could have killed himself and let Vader take full control and on the other, other hand, he had somehow made himself survive and Vader die.
Golden light like thousands of tiny fireflies filled the morning sky. The energy returning to the sky. Was that the force? Anakin coughed a bit as if his lungs were grasping for air. There was no way he could have survived an injury like that. He reached out towards the lightsaber but it didn’t come flying into his hand like normal. He pulled himself off of the ground and twisted his arms around. No scars. Granted, he still had metal for limbs and was closer to a droid than human now, he felt fine. Anakin reached a hand up to his neck and touched where he had cut his throat. Only a scar remained of what he had done and when he tried to speak, his words caught in his throat but silence was a price to pay for no Vader. He took a deep breath of air for the first time in ten years. A breath free of the one thing holding him down.
Anakin stood and for once in his life…he had no idea what he was going to do next.
Summary: Sam comes to ask you what you want for dinner but it seems like he might get more than he bargained for.
Sam shut his laptop and stretched. Every muscle in his body ached. How long have I been sitting here? Sam checked the clock on the wall across from him. At least a few hours. He was bad at checking the time when he woke up. It was usually pretty early when he woke up and it seemed to be around dinner by now so it had been a few hours. More than a few hours really. He had been there all day. His lower back ached and his eyes burned. On top of that, his ass had gone numb from sitting there for hours on end. Sam stood up from his spot and placed his hands on either side of his laptop and pushed himself away from the table. The grumbling of his stomach covered the sound of the chair scraping against the wooden floor.
Maybe I should round everyone up for dinner. See if they’re hungry too. Sam rubbed the back of his neck. His eyes scanned the library. The desk Dean had sat at this morning had been emptied out and the desk you had sat at this afternoon had also been emptied out. Dean could be out at a bar by now. But you were most likely in your room watching some crappy teen show on Netflix and Sam dare not interrupt that. The last time he did, he got a pillow to the face and yelled at for interrupting your “Link Time” whatever that meant. He could at least check if you were watching something and he could come back later when you were done with the episode to ask what you wanted for dinner.
He couldn’t put it off forever. The library wasn’t far from your room but the maze of hallways always made the journey feel long. The fluorescent lights didn’t help when all he never actually felt at home-truly at home-in the halls. He rounded the corner towards your room, finding the door slightly cracked. That usually meant that you weren’t too bust watching whatever you liked to watch when you were in your room. It was much better than going to your room and finding a closed door. Closed door meant “Link Time” and no one-no one-was meant to interrupt you when there was “Link Time” to be had.
The fact that “Link Time” had crossed his mind twice in a matter of moments scared him a bit. Maybe he had been spending too much time with you and dang, were you one beautiful creature. You were the prettiest person he had ever laid eyes on and that wasn’t an exaggeration. Sure he had seen pretty people before, just ask Ruby or Jessica (if you could even reach them) but your beauty couldn’t compare to either of them. Sam shook his head and stepped towards the partially opened door.
The sounds of your moans filled the air, echoing off of the walls of your room. They were soft moans. Barely audible and if you weren’t listening then you would never know that you were moaning in there. The moans were almost drowned out by the sounds of something sliding in and out of your wet pussy. Sam’s mouth salivated at just the sounds alone. He didn’t need to smell or even taste it, just the sound of it got him half hard in his jeans. His hand instinctively reached down to rub himself through his jeans.
“Fuck me,” your voice was desperate as ever. Sam was half tempted to look inside of the room but he already felt dirty enough as it was peaking in on such a private moment. The sounds of whatever was penetrating you sped up. “Please.”
Sam bit his lip so hard that it might bleed, keeping the moan that rose in his throat inside of him. His hand pressed against his hard-on and pressed it down as if he were attempting to stop it from raising. He pulled himself against the wall, not wanting to be seen or heard. Though his shadow on the wall might give him away. From there he had a perfect view of the room and the bed you lay on. You were naked from the waist down, wearing one of the shirts he had given you when you arrived on your doorstep and had never given back. Your chest rose and fell in shallow breaths. One hand was on your breast and the other was moving a…giant dildo in and out of your pussy. It was so much bigger than he could ever be and you were taking it like a champ. Your head was turned away from Sam which made him feel better about looking in on you.
His cock only grew harder at the sight. Your moans grew louder as your hand moved faster. It seemed like you were getting closer to an orgasm. Sam slowly unzipped his pants and pulled them down along with his boxers to his mid thigh. His hand wrapped around his cock, giving it a few cautionary strokes before settling into a speed that was comfortable for him. Your moans hit a pitch higher than they had originally been. His eyes slammed shut. The thought of you was enough to start getting him off. He imagined that his hand was your cunt and he tried to get to your point before you came.
Each movement of his hand brought him closer to your point. Oh how he wished that he was in that room fucking you senseless. How he wanted to remove the toy you were using and use himself to fuck you as senseless. There was more than that…he liked you. He wanted to be with you…in you. He needed every part of you and he wished that a door didn’t separate him. That he wasn’t standing outside like a weirdo and like the freak that he was. He placed a hand on the wall to steady himself as he made his way towards the door by an inch or two to get a better look. His hand gripping his cock like it was the last thing holding him to the earth. He had no better way of doing this. He didn’t want to break in and make you feel watched or anything. He didn’t need you to feel violated.
“Sam,” you moaned and the name came from your mouth as if you had said it that way more than once. “Fuck me, please.”
Sam’s hand sped up around his cock and he kept the pace as your hand sped up. Your moans coming faster and faster until they came to a fever pitch. Sam spurted his cum out onto the palm of his hand. Your breathing became heavy like you had just fought a demon. His mind becoming clearer. What have I done? His eyes turned towards your form in the bed. Your head had turned towards him, catching him in the act. Red-more like white-handed.
“Get in here,” you called from inside the room. The dildo you were using sliding out of you with a pop. “I’m sure your cock is better than any toy I could ever have.”
Additional Tags: Roadside Motel, Soulmate AU, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Massage, Serial Killers, Alternative Universe - FBI, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern AU, FBI AU
Summary: Anakin Skywalker and Obi-Wan (Ben) are chasing down a serial killer in shifts and they need a break.
Anakin slumped into the bed. His face falling into one of the ever thin pillows that they usually kept their faces on. It had been months since he used a nice pillow. One that was surely covered in dust by now since he hadn’t bothered to go home on the off days that they had as rare as they were. It wouldn’t take much for him to sell it and live in his car on the in between days. The door of the motel shut behind his superior, that much he heard. Then the rolling of both of their suitcases.
“It shouldn’t take much longer,” Anakin rolled over and opened his eyes to Ben standing over him. “We will get to go home in two days.”
“Can’t come soon enough,” Anakin let out a soft sigh as he tried to keep his eyes open long enough to see the takeout menu Ben had shoved into his face. “Pizza, we need pizza. I’m tired of Chinese food. So damn tired.”
“Pizza isn’t much better,” Ben tapped Anakin’s side in order to try and get him moved over to the side so that they could share the bed together. “But there is a case to be made about eating the same thing every day.”
Anakin placed his head on Ben’s chest. The two of them curling into each other for the first time in two days. Two days on the road trying to hunt down one of the biggest serial killers they had ever chased. Someone they were calling Darth Maul. He killed using two blades and nothing else. Usually decapitated people. Sometimes he would stab someone in their stomach before adding a smile underneath the two holes. That was the early signature but noe it had become more of a job. Like he had been preforming hits for other people. Simple, clean decapitation.
Two more days then they would have to be relieved for a few days. Their heads didn’t need to be clouded to ruin the case. Their close friends would come in and take over for a week then they would exchange information and keep doing that until they hunted down that sun of a bitch and brought him to justice.
“Are you going to order or am I going to have to,” Anakin popped up and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
“You can, I think I am going to grab some shut eye, if you don’t mind,” Ben rolled into the pillow Anakin had once been using.
Anakin groaned and pulled out menu after menu from the stack of them on the table, looking for one that advertised pizza. It took until the last, very sticky menu to find pizza. He carefully peeled the menu off of the table and dialed the number on the menu.
“Hello, this is Piper Pizza, how may I help you,” some teenager (probably) droned on over the other end of the phone.
“Hi, can I get an extra-large pizza. Half with pineapple, pepperoni and jalapeños and the other half with pepperoni and anchovies. Also a two-liter of pepsi please.”
“Sure. That’ll be twenty-four fifty. Delivery or pick-up?”
“Delivery please, we’re at the Motel Six off of fifth and main. We’re in room two-oh-six,” Anakin dug into his pocket for some cash to pay for the meal.
“We’ll be there in twenty to twenty-five minutes,” the teenager kept his tone monotone.
“Thanks,” Anakin clicked the phone off and turned to Ben on the bed. “It’ll be here in like twenty minutes.”
Ben lifted a thumb up. A small show of life which was all he needed. Anakin needed to get the grime of car off of him and he didn’t want to leave this case off to Mace and the old man. There was nothing better than leaving a case he knew they were so close to getting cracked. There was going to be a break in the case soon and that was going to be on Mace’s hands and they were going to be the ones hailed in the media for cracking it.
“I think I am going to wash up.”
Anakin stripped off of the suit he had been wearing and placed it in a pile on the ground. He headed to the bathroom that was surely wasn’t very clean but he didn’t care. He needed to get clean. He needed to wash his face and keep himself from stinking up the room. His declaration only received a grunt from his partner. Anakin made his way into the grimy bathroom, placing a towel down before he made any further steps into the room. The shower and everything in it had this yellow tint to it and it looked like someone had tried to clean it but it didn’t look like there was much cleaning left to do. The whole thing needed to be ripped out from the baseboards and rebuilt from the ground up.
As soon as Anakin turned on the weak ass water. He stepped into the shower and placed a hand on the wall, another hand snaked up to his neck. He rubbed it for a moment as he tried to take off the tension that he carried there. The weight of the mark was heavier than the weight of going after the assole that had taken weeks of his life. Months of his life. Stolen his marriage. Not like that marriage mattered anyway. She had a different mark from him. One that he had seen more than once on other people. She seemed to have more than one soulmate which was fine…in fact it was perfectly normal and yet she had none of the same markings as Anakin. It wasn’t going to work out no matter how much they loved each other.
His was a small heart on the back of his neck with a lightning bolt going down through the middle and he had never seen it on anyone else. Padmé had described it to him and he had never even before since it was…pretty much out of sight. It was like no one else was there to have him. To be with him. He didn’t want to be all alone in this world. Alone from everyone who he had seen go off and get married it just…he didn’t know what was going to happen.
He washed off the stress of the day as he tried to think of how they were going to catch that sun of a bitch. He had seemingly evaded capture until then even when he left tons of evidence as to who or what he was doing. He was an assassin. A hit man. He should be easy to find. He even left his own codename at the site of every murder. Darth Maul. His name was Darth Maul and every circle they had asked had him as a literal ghost in the wind. No one had even heard of him and if they had, they lied to their faces and said that they didn’t know who Darth Maul was.
“Anakin,” Ben pounded on the door. “Dinner!”
Anakin leapt out of the shower and into a scratchy white towel. His stomach growled at the thought of food. The door nearly hit himself in the face as he rushed out of the house and into the room. Pizza. The smell smacked him in the face His eyes landed on the food. Ben handed him a plate of pizza with a smile on his face. Anakin took the plate and sat on the couch. The news was muted in the background. The captions were talking about the newest Darth Maul death. There would at least be more today. Mace would be checking those out as the two of them wrote their reports.
“You owe me money, by the way,” Ben slipped next to Anakin as the two of them watched TV. “For the pizza.”
“I know it’s for the pizza,” Anakin pointed to his pants. “Wallet’s in there.”
That first bite of pizza was…it was heaven. Anakin didn’t even know when he last ate. Two days? Three days? He was shit at remembering when he last ate and that usually meant he hadn’t eaten in over a week. Ben wouldn’t let him go a whole week without eating, would he? Unless he had also forgotten to eat as well. Anakin scarfed down his own half of the pizza and then ordered some more food to scarf down. His stomach asking for more as he tried
“-the victim found had a heart on the back of their neck-” Anakin whipped his head around. His whole body shaking as he touched the mark on his neck. Could it be? “Though it seemed to be drawn on.”
“What’s wrong, Anakin,” Ben turned his attention to Anakin who stood at the table. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” Anakin dropped his hand from his neck and turned around. He dare not touch the other side of the pizza. That was all for Ben. “I’m fine. Where do you think he’s going to go next?”
Ben fumbled with his phone for a moment, “Ugh, based on the maps we’ve been using, he’ll hit the Texarkana boarder soon.”
“We should get there tomorrow,” Anakin lifted his shoulders up, adjusting the towel around his waist. “We should help.”
“What we need is rest. Mace is going to be there tonight to investigate the scene. It will be fine, youngling,” Ben pat the area next to him. “Just come sit down, take a load off.”
Anakin came back to the bed with a sigh. He placed the phone next to him as he waited for the knock on the door to bring him more satiation. Ben placed a hand on his thigh, bringing it up to the his lap. Ben reached over for the remote to seemingly change the channel to something more mundane. As much as the general public ate up the spectacle of murder and the murder trial, Anakin could never stomach it as there was no way that they could do this job well with such an influence from the outside world and as much as he had tried to convince Padmé to change the laws about it but after the spectacle of the OJ trial, there was no stopping it.
“I just…the woman on the TV….”
“Please tell me she isn’t your soulmate,” Ben rubbed the bridge of his nose as the TV began blaring some mesothelioma compensation commercial. “Otherwise you aren’t going to be alive much longer.”
Anakin shook his head, “No, not my soulmate.”
The topic hadn’t gotten brought up a lot. FBI agents weren’t able to contact their soulmate or even really find their own. They weren’t allowed attachments and Anakin already broke that rule when he fell in love-or thought he fell in love with-Padmé and that had already pissed the higher ups more than anything he had ever did so he was sure that lamenting over that would only make things worse.
“Why did you even ask that anyways,” Anakin tilted his head to the side.
“Because you got a stink face when the woman’s mark was described. I mean…I’ve never seen you react that way before…ever,” Ben stood from his seat and opened the door to the delivery person who Anakin had failed to hear knock at the door. “You also owe me for this one, Mr. Void and we’re gonna talk as to why you are so off the ball this case.”
Ben handed the delivery person the money and turned back to Anakin, “You owe me another thirty bucks for that.”
Anakin once again gestured to his pants, “The money is right there. Go get it right there!”
“I am not touching your dirty ass suit to get money from you! Now get dressed before you’re accused of flashing some kid.”
Anakin groaned and dug around in the suitcases near the door, trying to find out which one was his and which one was Ben’s. His eyes looked over the tags but the writing was so worn that it was hard to see who’s name was on it. But by the ding on one of the corners of the suitcases told him that it was his suitcase and not Ben’s. He flipped it over to its side and opened it up, digging into the soft clothing that he barely had any time to wear. He pulled on a pair of tighty whities and a ‘Best Dad in the Galaxy’ shirt that Padmé got him as a joke gift on father’s day for the dog he never got to see then flopped back onto the bed with the food he had ordered.
Ben brought out the papers they were supposed to be working on. The two of them were supposed to be working on it all night to make sure that it was done for Mace but Anakin could barely keep his eyes open. He didn’t have much else other than the thought that he was going to pass out as soon as possible and fall into a food coma. Each bite he took was like slipping into heaven. It was wonderful.
“So what do we’ve got,” Anakin groaned as he lifted himself into one of the most uncomfortable positions that he could get into before he got back into the whole FBI thing. “Other than the obvious new victims.”
“Well, the new victims seem to have brought the count up to a confirmed twenty-five and a possible one hundred and thirty. Media is on our backs-as we know-because of course they are because a hit man is going after everyone. Not just men but women and children too. All races and ages. No clear victimology. Just…people with nothing more than good backgrounds. No secrets, no hidden bank accounts, nothing unusual. All normal people. There were some eye witnesses early on when he first started killing but ”
“And the last victim? Well, the last victim that we saw?” Anakin shoved some noodles into his mouth. “What about her?”
“White woman, twenty-five, mother of two but both children were out of the house at the time. Single mother from all accounts and no one had seen anyone come in or out of the house at the time and neither did her home security cameras. Nothing worse than that. Left his fingerprints at the crime scene and his footprints as well but once again there were no hits in CODIS so we’re back to square one on DNA evidence. I swear he comes up with a new set of prints every single time.”
Anakin massaged the back of his neck, right where his mark was. It stung and burned as he pulled his hand away from where he had his hand before. It wasn’t there before…the stinging but it felt like there were a hundred bees placing their stingers into his neck and he had no way of stopping it. His mind wandered to the electricity he had felt the last time he had been in the same room as Padmé. This time it felt a lot more…comfortable to him. The stinging felt bearable. More bearable than anything he had ever felt before.
“But he isn’t,” Anakin countered. “He isn’t coming up with a new set of prints every single time. Those are his prints but I swear they are getting scrambled up every single time and we just have to break the code to his prints. I know there is something in those prints that is the key to it.”
“Fine, you look at them for awhile while I take a nap,” Ben stood from his seat and took Anakin’s place on the bed, handing him the computer they weren’t supposed to share but it was just for this one case and this one thing. “While you’re at it, massage my feet if you can…please.”
“Sure. I can…”
At least he asked that time. Usually he stuck his stinky toes into Anakin’s face without another word. There was a silent agreement between the two of them about that. That they were there for each other no matter what. That they weren’t going to leave each other. That they were never going to leave each other. It was one think that he had never thought about. They had known each other for over ten years and had worked together for just as long. He had no one to thank but Ben for getting him in this situation. So long as they were together and in the same situation then nothing bad could happen.
Anakin rubbed the feet of his mentor with one hand as his eyes scanned the fingerprints that flashed in front go his face. His eyes dragged over the lines as he tried to think of any similarities in the lines but there didn’t seem to be any regardless of how long he stayed looking at the poor lines on the screen. There were barely any overlaps and there were some without any real finger prints at all.
As soon as Ben started snoring, Anakin lifted his hand off of his feet and made use of his newly freed hand to get out of the bed and set the computer on the bed, standing up from the set that had placed his ass into numbness and he moved a little bit as he made sure he didn’t love having a numb ass in the moment. He need another snack. His stomach still growling in the moment even after all of the food he had eaten. He at least have a few more dollars before he was completely out and he wouldn’t get the rest of the money to Ben. Anakin took the room key and made his way into the hallway.
There he was. Exactly as described based on what they knew about him. Tall, skin stained red from blood. His eyes bloodshot and some kind of yellow. His dual blades hung at his side. Each one dripped with blood as if there were a fresh kill just down the hall. The man licked his lips. So far, this was the only time one of their agents had seen this man in the flesh and blood. Anakin paused for a moment. He should go back and get Ben. Ben was his superior and he was going to have to get him. Anakin backed into the room, the door wasn’t even fully shut yet so it was easy to get back in.
“Get up,” Anakin poked at Ben’s side. Ben rolled over in bed. “I said get up!”
“What,” Ben groaned, rolling back over onto his back. The same marking that was on the back of Anakin’s neck was on Ben’s neck.
Was that why they had been paired up? Is that why everyone who was originally paired up wasn’t alive anymore? Especially after one of them had been killed in the line of action. It was always in pairs. It was always in pairs. Had it always ended up like that? Soulmates paired together for better interactions? Were they apart of some dick experiment or something?
“We’ve got a break in the case and I am not letting Mace take this from us!”
Anakin practically dragged Ben out into the hallway. He pointed down the hall to where he had seen Darth Maul and now…there was no one. There was no one at the end of the hall. There was a pool of blood, sure, but there was no one standing there with their blades in their hands. But there was a trail. Anakin rubbed the back of his neck again, catching sight of the mark on the back of Ben’s neck as he stepped forward to inspect the blood.
“Ben…” Anakin whispered. His voice lowered as Ben turned back to him.
“You weren’t supposed to know,” Ben’s face dropped. “If you know…we have to leave. We have to leave everything behind. They…they will kill us if they find out we know. We-we can make up new names and passports and run away to Cuba or something but we can’t go back to hunting down Darth Maul.”
He was right there Ben. Trust me. He was right there. Anakin wanted to say but there was nothing more than thet. Ben had even thought about it before he just came out with it. Anakin rubbed his face.
“But we have to. We just saw him. There is a body in one of these rooms.”
“We will report it anonymously and leave.”
“They will know that it’s us. They will know that we were here,” Anakin wiped the tears from his eyes and turned back to face to the trail of blood that had lead him to there. “They will know that we were here and that we were here the night of the murder. What if they think that we were the ones who had killed whoever is dead?”
“No, that won’t happen and even if it does, we will be far out of the country by the time they know that we were even here,” Ben smiled and pushed Anakin towards their room. “Come on, we’ve got to pack before someone else calls the police.”
“He was supposed to be at the Texarkana boarder by now. He wasn’t even supposed to be in here and yet…” Anakin sputtered. “He was here and he killed someone. I could have had him and yet…he’s gone.”
“Yeah and we could have caught him if you didn’t see the mark,” Ben sighed. “But now you’ve seen it so we have to run. We have to.”
“We can ignore it. Pretend like I never saw it and we can go back to being partners is all.”
“No,” Ben raised a hand up. “As soon as you see it, we have to report it and then we will be separated for the time being and asked questions. They want to make sure we aren’t fucking and right now, all I want to do is jump your bones right now and fuck you until morning comes. Please…I have never wanted you more in my life and I have wanted this for ten years.”
“So you want to leave the FBI just because you want to fuck your partner,” Anakin tilted his head to the side, finger still pointed to the blood behind him. “Because you want some life beyond this?”
“Do you want that too? Haven’t you been the one lamenting about wanting something outside of this damned fucking job,” Ben gripped Anakin’s neck and twisted it to face Ben for the first time in this entire fight. A wave of calm washed over the man. “Please. We need to leave, trust me.”
“Yes! But we have a break in the case right now and we are going to make this case,” Anakin tapped his feet against the ground outside of the room they had shared.
“You were the one who left the room and if you hadn’t then we would be fine but the whole case is blown either way. They. Will. Know.”
“I know…”
“So what do you say? Do we act like nothing happened and get killed now or do we end up leaving town and forgetting this…the FBI…the case for the rest of our life and live it out like the soulmates that we are?”
Anakin didn’t even had to take the moment to think, “We leave. We leave town. Act like none of this ever happened and we are going to live the rest of our lives like none of this ever happened. I don’t…we deserve a break because if we go back to the FBI there is going to be another case and another and another and there will be no stopping it. We need a break.”
“This is going to be a permanent break and you know it. We can’t work on cases again and we will never be able to chase these monsters ever again. We both have to be okay with never working on a case ever again,” Ben sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. “All we will have is each other.”
“We can still work on cases we just…we just have to fly under the radar,” Anakin offered up. They would have to. They couldn’t get out of the life that easily. They were going to still want to work on cases. They had been trained for it for their entire lives.
“So what do you say, partner? Are you going to give all of us a chance? Are you going to give this life a chance?”
Summary: Tokoyami gets in trouble with his superior during work studies.
“I thought you were better than this,” Hawks slapped the desk that separated the two of them. “That you were the strongest and the fastest.”
Tokoyami held back tears, “I-I killed him and this is all you are saying? That I was the worst choice you could have made? Out of all of the students that you could have chosen? No words of encouragement?”
“You could have saved him,” Hawks’ eyes flashed with anger. “You were too slow!”
Tokoyami braced himself for the oncoming onslaught of attacks from the feathers that could come from Hawks. The clock ticked the seconds that passed. A whole minute went by before he opened his eyes once more to face the anger of Hawks. He had rounded the desk in that time, pretty silently as a matter of fact. There was nothing worse than having him sneak up on him. He tried shaking off the dear of what was to come.
Tokoyami gulped as Hawks wrapped a wing around the two of them. It wasn’t like anyone could see them in there so there was no use in covering him up. Tokoyami’s face flushed as Hawks moved ever closer. His lips moving in incomprehensible words. Ones Tokoyami was too weak to stop.
Hawks cleared his throat, “I think you need to learn how not to kill the villains we’re chasing. We’d like to bring them to justice.”
“So what do you propose,” Tokoyami’s face tilted up towards Hawks. His heart beating out of his chest as Hawks pulled him closer to his chest. “Training? Extra hours? More simulations?”
“Punishment,” the word fell from Hawks’ lips. His face nestled into Tokoyami’s neck, placing chaste kisses on the feathers and on the skin between them. “I think you need a bit of punishment.”
He nodded, “I think that’s fair.”
“Do you promise to tell the truth,” the room danced around them in a shockwave of echos of the word. “The whole truth and nothing but today?”
Each time he repeated the word, the echos shook the room around the two of them. Hawks’ wings are tighter around Tokoyami, forcing him closer to his chest. Tokoyami’s heart stirred at the word that had came from Hawks’ mouth and his heart tugged closer to Hawks. They were already close enough as it was. Their chests pressed against each other as they waited for what was to be the break in the comfortable silence that had befallen the two of them.
“Yes,” Tokoyami felt like he had no choice. To say ‘no’ would be a lie. It wasn’t what was in his heart. He wanted to tell Hawks the truth.
“I heard through the grapevine that the only reason you applied to take this sidekick position with me was because you had a crush on me.”
Tokoyami wanted to say no. That his reason for coming to Hawks was because he was the number two hero and that he was the fastest and the brightest hero there was outside of Endeavor. But that would be a lie. It wasn’t the main reason that he had applied to the position. His heart pulled towards Hawks once more and the lie dissipated in his head like a bad night out disguised by underaged drinking.
“I did-I do have a crush on you,” Tokoyami confessed to Hawks. Whatever Hawks had whispered had made him incapable of lying to the man in front of him. It was wrong to think that he could even tell the truth to his superior. To someone who was only a few years older than him. “But that’s not the point.”
“Have you ever dreamed of me…in that way,” Hawks seemed to imply that there was only one that way but anyone who was listening could have interpreted it in any other way if they didn’t hear the first question.
“Yes,” the answer was immediate and fell out of his mouth before he could even think about the implications. “Yes, I have dreamed of fucking you.”
“What did you dream of?”
“You-you bending me over that desk and taking me from behind. Of you pressing me up against those windows and showing everyone what a little slut I am for you,” Tokoyami slapped a hand over his mouth as his darkest secret slipped out of his mouth and into the air around them like some sort of bad dream that he was having. Not that he had any idea of how to change it.
Hawks whispered another incantation of some sort, his eyes off of Tokoyami as he did so. He didn’t move. He didn’t dare move away from Hawks. His words were so soft. Softer than baby feathers. Softer than anything Tokoyami had ever touched. It was like he had been given a new life. The words of his love meant everything to him. The words of the man he had dreamed about before. He had never in a million years thought that this would be how it happened. How he ended up like this. He took a step back away from Hawks but ran his back into a wall of feathers. He wasn’t getting away from this that easily.
Hawks’ lips were still on Tokoyami’s neck. His hands trailing their way up the sides of Tokoyami who stood still…frozen. Hawks lifted his head up and trailed a hand up to Tokoyami’s neck, gripping his neck and twisting his face towards Hawks’ eyes.
“Face me, please, I need you to look at me when I ask you this….do you want this,” Hawks’ eyes softened for a moment as a tone of sincerity washed over his voice. “Do you want me to punish you in this way?”
“What way,” Tokoyami tried playing coy but that wasn’t an option when he couldn’t lie and technically he couldn’t lie. He had no idea what Hawks had in store.
“Take off your pants and lean over the desk,” Hawks commanded.
Tokoyami’s body moved before he could protest. His hands working at his belt as he moved towards the desk. The jeans he wore slipped to the ground as he completed the last few steps toward the desk. His body bending over the cool wood of the desk. His eyes fixating on the report that Hawks had half finished on his desk. The one that he was supposed to already have finished and turned in to the commission so that Tokoyami could face repercussions for accidently killing the villain.
Smack! A hand landed on Tokoyami’s bare ass. He jumped up halfway up, digging his fingernails into the wood. His ass had barely recovered when another smack hit him. His eyes widened as he reached over himself to rub away any go the pain but Hawks’ hand stopped him fro doing such a thing.
“Did I say you could move? Stay where you are. Don’t move a muscle,” Hawks commanded. Tokoyami placed his hands back on the desk. His eyes focused back on the report. “You deserve ten lashings for that. If you speak, I shall restart the count, do you understand?”
Tokoyami nodded and pressed his cheek into the cool wood. His eyes darted back and forth over the upside down words on the paper. His eyes dragging over the small characters that were usually made from the hero. Tokoyami braced himself for another smack on the ass, waiting for what seemed like ages before the sound of skin against skin echoed across the room.
“That’s three,” Hawks leaned down and placed his lips behind where Tokoyami’s ear was. Even if it was hidden under a layer of feathers, Hawks’ voice was perfectly clear. “Be glad I decided to keep the two before you spoke as a part of the count.”
Tokoyami nodded and gripped the wood as best he could without scratching it. It was expensive enough wood as it was. Any scratches could piss Hawks off but there was nothing that Tokoyami could do about the fact that he could feel every single slap to the ass that Hawks delivered to him. His eyes locked with the report once more. Tokoyami showed great promise until he-smack! Four. That was four out of the ten lashings that he would have to receive. Each slap making his dick harder than the last slap he received. If Hawks didn’t fuck him after this then he would have to go to the bathroom and blow his load into the toilet again. He didn’t need that happening on company time ever again. Even then he wasn’t going to go back to work after this.
Smack! Halfway through and he was already half hard.
Smack!
Smack! Three more to go and he wasn’t about to give up now. Even if he was so hard that he could barely handle it anymore. He didn’t want to blow his load now and embarrass himself further. He didn’t need that happening in front of his boss but he had already confessed to having a crush on the winged hero.
Smack! Two more and he could be done with it. Two more.
Smack. This one was much softer than the ones before. His ass numb to the pain now. Each one of the smacks had hurt but this one…this one…this one was much softer.
“I think today, I killed the king the king of deceit,” Hawks smiled. “Do you think that is a fair assessment?”
Tokoyami nodded.
“I thought you were better than this,” Hawks slapped the desk that separated the two of them. “That you were the strongest and the fastest.”
Tokoyami held back tears, “I-I killed him and this is all you are saying? That I was the worst choice you could have made? Out of all of the students that you could have chosen? No words of encouragement?”
“You could have saved him,” Hawks’ eyes flashed with anger. “You were too slow!”
Tokoyami braced himself for the oncoming onslaught of attacks from the feathers that could come from Hawks. The clock ticked the seconds that passed. A whole minute went by before he opened his eyes once more to face the anger of Hawks. He had rounded the desk in that time, pretty silently as a matter of fact. There was nothing worse than having him sneak up on him. He tried shaking off the dear of what was to come.
Tokoyami gulped as Hawks wrapped a wing around the two of them. It wasn’t like anyone could see them in there so there was no use in covering him up. Tokoyami’s face flushed as Hawks moved ever closer. His lips moving in incomprehensible words. Ones Tokoyami was too weak to stop.
Hawks cleared his throat, “I think you need to learn how not to kill the villains we’re chasing. We’d like to bring them to justice.”
“So what do you propose,” Tokoyami’s face tilted up towards Hawks. His heart beating out of his chest as Hawks pulled him closer to his chest. “Training? Extra hours? More simulations?”
“Punishment,” the word fell from Hawks’ lips. His face nestled into Tokoyami’s neck, placing chaste kisses on the feathers and on the skin between them. “I think you need a bit of punishment.”
He nodded, “I think that’s fair.”
“Do you promise to tell the truth,” the room danced around them in a shockwave of echos of the word. “The whole truth and nothing but today?”
Each time he repeated the word, the echos shook the room around the two of them. Hawks’ wings are tighter around Tokoyami, forcing him closer to his chest. Tokoyami’s heart stirred at the word that had came from Hawks’ mouth and his heart tugged closer to Hawks. They were already close enough as it was. Their chests pressed against each other as they waited for what was to be the break in the comfortable silence that had befallen the two of them.
“Yes,” Tokoyami felt like he had no choice. To say ‘no’ would be a lie. It wasn’t what was in his heart. He wanted to tell Hawks the truth.
“I heard through the grapevine that the only reason you applied to take this sidekick position with me was because you had a crush on me.”
Tokoyami wanted to say no. That his reason for coming to Hawks was because he was the number two hero and that he was the fastest and the brightest hero there was outside of Endeavor. But that would be a lie. It wasn’t the main reason that he had applied to the position. His heart pulled towards Hawks once more and the lie dissipated in his head like a bad night out disguised by underaged drinking.
“I did-I do have a crush on you,” Tokoyami confessed to Hawks. Whatever Hawks had whispered had made him incapable of lying to the man in front of him. It was wrong to think that he could even tell the truth to his superior. To someone who was only a few years older than him. “But that’s not the point.”
“Have you ever dreamed of me…in that way,” Hawks seemed to imply that there was only one that way but anyone who was listening could have interpreted it in any other way if they didn’t hear the first question.
“Yes,” the answer was immediate and fell out of his mouth before he could even think about the implications. “Yes, I have dreamed of fucking you.”
“What did you dream of?”
“You-you bending me over that desk and taking me from behind. Of you pressing me up against those windows and showing everyone what a little slut I am for you,” Tokoyami slapped a hand over his mouth as his darkest secret slipped out of his mouth and into the air around them like some sort of bad dream that he was having. Not that he had any idea of how to change it.
Hawks whispered another incantation of some sort, his eyes off of Tokoyami as he did so. He didn’t move. He didn’t dare move away from Hawks. His words were so soft. Softer than baby feathers. Softer than anything Tokoyami had ever touched. It was like he had been given a new life. The words of his love meant everything to him. The words of the man he had dreamed about before. He had never in a million years thought that this would be how it happened. How he ended up like this. He took a step back away from Hawks but ran his back into a wall of feathers. He wasn’t getting away from this that easily.
Hawks’ lips were still on Tokoyami’s neck. His hands trailing their way up the sides of Tokoyami who stood still…frozen. Hawks lifted his head up and trailed a hand up to Tokoyami’s neck, gripping his neck and twisting his face towards Hawks’ eyes.
“Face me, please, I need you to look at me when I ask you this….do you want this,” Hawks’ eyes softened for a moment as a tone of sincerity washed over his voice. “Do you want me to punish you in this way?”
“What way,” Tokoyami tried playing coy but that wasn’t an option when he couldn’t lie and technically he couldn’t lie. He had no idea what Hawks had in store.
“Take off your pants and lean over the desk,” Hawks commanded.
Tokoyami’s body moved before he could protest. His hands working at his belt as he moved towards the desk. The jeans he wore slipped to the ground as he completed the last few steps toward the desk. His body bending over the cool wood of the desk. His eyes fixating on the report that Hawks had half finished on his desk. The one that he was supposed to already have finished and turned in to the commission so that Tokoyami could face repercussions for accidently killing the villain.
Smack! A hand landed on Tokoyami’s bare ass. He jumped up halfway up, digging his fingernails into the wood. His ass had barely recovered when another smack hit him. His eyes widened as he reached over himself to rub away any go the pain but Hawks’ hand stopped him fro doing such a thing.
“Did I say you could move? Stay where you are. Don’t move a muscle,” Hawks commanded. Tokoyami placed his hands back on the desk. His eyes focused back on the report. “You deserve ten lashings for that. If you speak, I shall restart the count, do you understand?”
Tokoyami nodded and pressed his cheek into the cool wood. His eyes darted back and forth over the upside down words on the paper. His eyes dragging over the small characters that were usually made from the hero. Tokoyami braced himself for another smack on the ass, waiting for what seemed like ages before the sound of skin against skin echoed across the room.
“That’s three,” Hawks leaned down and placed his lips behind where Tokoyami’s ear was. Even if it was hidden under a layer of feathers, Hawks’ voice was perfectly clear. “Be glad I decided to keep the two before you spoke as a part of the count.”
Tokoyami nodded and gripped the wood as best he could without scratching it. It was expensive enough wood as it was. Any scratches could piss Hawks off but there was nothing that Tokoyami could do about the fact that he could feel every single slap to the ass that Hawks delivered to him. His eyes locked with the report once more. Tokoyami showed great promise until he-smack! Four. That was four out of the ten lashings that he would have to receive. Each slap making his dick harder than the last slap he received. If Hawks didn’t fuck him after this then he would have to go to the bathroom and blow his load into the toilet again. He didn’t need that happening on company time ever again. Even then he wasn’t going to go back to work after this.
Smack! Halfway through and he was already half hard.
Smack!
Smack! Three more to go and he wasn’t about to give up now. Even if he was so hard that he could barely handle it anymore. He didn’t want to blow his load now and embarrass himself further. He didn’t need that happening in front of his boss but he had already confessed to having a crush on the winged hero.
Smack! Two more and he could be done with it. Two more.
Smack. This one was much softer than the ones before. His ass numb to the pain now. Each one of the smacks had hurt but this one…this one…this one was much softer.
Tokoyami stated there, bent over the desk. His body still shaking from the last smack. The window was tinted so that no one could see in so even if the window cleaner came down-like he would any moment-there would be no way that he could see in. But the thought of someone seeing them from the window was enough to shake the rational part of his head just long enough to make his boner go wild.
“Now who said you could get hard,” Hawks flipped Tokoyami over before he could even see that Tokoyami’s dick was harder than it had ever been before in his life. “I don’t think you should be the only one who could get hard.”
Hawks stood in front of Tokoyami, stripping of his pants and boxers and oh what a sight Hawks was. People had commented that Hawks was one cocky son of a bitch and Tokoyami could see that his cock was the reason why. He was thick. Tokoyami wouldn’t be able to wrap his fingers around it. His hand maybe but not just his fingers. He couldn’t even think of putting it in his mouth. He had dreamt of it when he was going to bed at night but he had no idea how absolutely thick it was and by god, was it long. It could fit inside his mouth and go down a bit of his throat if it weren’t so damn thick and he wasn’t even rock hard just yet. He was at least half hard and it was a work of art. It was the best thing Tokoyami had ever seen and he had accidentally seen All Might’s dick once…don’t ask.
Hawks tilted his head to the side, “Do you think you deserve this after what happened today? After what you confessed to me?”
“Please, I need it…I crave it…” Tokoyami whined, falling to his knees in front of Hawks. “I need to have your dick in every whole I have.”
He had at least two holes that could be used…maybe three and he needed them to be fucked. He needed them to be filled with every ounce of cum Hawks had. He needed every ounce of that cum and he didn’t care what happened to him. He didn’t need anything else other than the dick in front of him. He needed Hawks’ dick in front of him. He needed it. His mouth filled with saliva just thinking about taking it in his mouth. He needed it more than anything else. Tokoyami jerked forward, ready to fall onto the dick that was presented to him.
“Please,” Tokoyami continued to beg. It was wrong to not only want his boss’s dick but the dick of someone who was older than him. Not much older but he was still under eighteen and Hawks was over eighteen. Defiantly illegal if anyone walked in and saw them in this position. “I need it so bad. I have never wanted anything more in my entire life.”
Hawks crossed his arms in front of his chest, “What makes you think that you even deserve it? You don’t need to have it. You could watch me jerk off and I could never give you what you wanted. That could be punishment enough, don’t you think?”
“I promise that I didn’t mean to kill that man,” Tokoyami pleaded. “I promise he just-”
“Just what,” Hawks took a step forward and ran a finger under Tokoyami’s chin. “Did he just fall into Dark Shadow’s jaw?”
“Well, Dark Shadow-”
“I don’t want to hear excuses, Tokoyami,” Hawks pulled away from Tokoyami, leaving him to whine. His eyes scanned Tokoyami for a split second before he turned around. “Do you know what happened to him is a one time mistake? That you won’t get out of here without killing yourself off from any chance of becoming a hero?”
Tokoyami squinted at the sudden shift in the tone of the room. It was like one minute they were both perfectly okay and in the mood then all of a sudden Hawks was berating him for losing someone that was barely even his fault. He still had barely any control over his own body and it seemed like Hawks did. That he was the one who wanted all of the control in the moment. Dark Shadow ripped out from inside of Tokoyami, snapping and biting like a dog ready to protect him.
“I know the consequences of killing a suspect, okay? I made my mistake and I won’t do it again!” Tokoyami’s eyes pricked with tears. “I’m just a kid!”
“Not anymore! Out here, out here you are an adult with the same privileges as any other hero out there. You don’t get to decide who lives and who dies.”
“Yeah and what are you going to do about it,” Tokoyami bit back, finally gaining the courage to speak to Hawks without wanting to die inside just a little bit. “What are you the almighty Hawks, number two hero, going to do about it?”
“I am going to do so much work on you tonight,” Hawks turned around to face Tokoyami and for a moment, all Tokoyami could do was stare at the perfect specimen of a dick. His eyes scanned him as Tokoyami tried to push Dark Shadow back from the yelling and back to where he went to hide whenever he was gone. “So much work. Because you know how disappointed I am. Now shut up.”
Tokoyami’s lower jaw slammed against the top. Teeth rattled as his voice stuck in his throat. The sound of his voice stopped by his lips. He twisted around in his seat, in hopes of letting go the voice he had lost but there was some force stopping him. Some part of him had forced that out of him. He had no idea what had come over him. He had no reason to take the whole thing so literally and yet his body was reacting like it was. There was no reason for him to speak anyways. He just…he was just there…awaiting instruction from Hawks as this was going to help him.
“There, now that your pretty mouth is shut,” Hawks made his way back towards Tokoyami. “I am going to fuck the shit out of you, do you hear me?”
Yes. Tokoyami wanted to say yes but his mouth was shut as he tried to think of a way to speak without speaking. Even when he tried to nod, he didn’t. He couldn’t. The muscles in his neck strained. He had no way to speak. He had no way to say ‘no’ to what was about to happen. Hawks tapped on Tokoyami’s chin and his mouth feel open. His face level with Hawks’ delicious dick. Drool spilling out of his mouth and onto the floor below him. Hawks wiped away the drool with his thumb, so slowly that he had never been so turned on before in his life. Tokoyami shuffled on his knees a bit closer to the man who had trapped him under his spell. The one thing that he hated more than anything was not being able to move and he was completely under the spell of Hawks and whatever incantation that he had spoken long before.
“Take it,” Hawks waved his dick in front of his face. Even his own hand wasn’t big enough to wrap all the way around it. “Take it all for me.”
Hawks didn’t even wait before he shoved the dick into Tokoyami’s beak and down the throat that was unprepared for how big it was. How thick it was. How delicious the pre-cum that lubricated his throat was. He placed his hands on Hawks’ hips. Each muscle straining against the movement but it was what he wanted. What his body wanted. Even when Hawks’ hands seemed to bat away his hands down towards his side.
“Hands behind your back,” Hawks demanded and Tokoyami’s hands snapped behind his back and locked together. “And keep them there. Take it all and don’t you dare move them until you are done and I have cum.”
Tokoyami nodded. Hawks slid out of his mouth then slammed his dick back into his mouth. Tokoyami chocked back tears and spit and everything else his body did to try and reject the dick within his mouth and there was barely even half of it within his mouth before he really gagged. Every single inch he had taken with ease. More ease than he would have thought it would have taken it. He had no idea how he took it all. He had no idea since he had never given a blowjob before. Let alone one under the coercion of Hawks and…magic?
Had Hawks been hit by something during the fight? One of those bullets everyone was talking about? No…those were taking away quirks. There was no way he could be given…given… Was Hawks in leagues with All for One or one of his little gangs running around the city? Could that be where Hawks got the magic that he was using to-
Hawks slammed his dick further down Tokoyami’s throat and snapped him out of his thoughts. Tokoyami’s eyes burned. Had he even blinked since Hawks shoved his dick into his mouth? He blinked back tears and he gave himself a moment to breath as Hawks slid his dick back out of his mouth. Even as his throat ached and his mind spun, it felt all so right. Everything felt right. There was nothing better than having his boss’s dick down his throat. Each time he slid out of Tokoyami’s throat, it felt like a part of him was leaving. Tokoyami’s eyes fluttered up to meet Hawks and the balls that he knew had filled the amazing cock he was taking blew their load right down Tokoyami’s throat.
Hot, stringy fluid that tasted like liquid gold spilled down his throat. Tokoyami moaned as Hawks pulled his dick out of Tokoyami’s throat. Tokoyami blinked, his eyes spilling the tears that had built up in his eyes. A cough escaped Tokoyami and his hands fiddled in their locked position behind him. A smile crossed Hawks’ face. His hand pumping his now near flaccid dick. Tokoyami swallowed all of Hawks’ load as if he had much of a choice in the matter. It would probably be a bad idea to spit it all up.
“Look at you,” Hawks’ smile grew on his face. His other hand wrapping around Tokoyami’s throat and gave it a soft squeeze. “Took all of it like a champ.”
Still under Hawks’ spell, Tokoyami could only nod at the well earned praise. Each muscle in his throat contracting in his throat as he tried to speak again but he had no idea why he was even trying that. He wanted to say thank you, sir. Thank you for using my throat as your own personal fleshlight. Thank you for being the one to allow me to give you a blowjob. Please give me more. Give more of that delicious cock please. Give me more.
“Do you want more,” Hawks wiped drool from Tokoyami’s chin and used his tongue to clean it up. “Or are you ready to tell me the truth?”
Tokoyami shook his head but he knew that there was no way that he was going to fess up for something he didn’t do. For a villain he didn’t kill. He didn’t know that there was any reason to fess up for that and if for anything, it was all Dark Shadow’s fault for not listening to his commands like the good dogs that he usually was. There was no one out there that would know that if Hawks didn’t tun in that report.
“Then you deserve a bit more punishment…and you will receive it until you can tell me the truth and nothing but.”
Whatever Tokoyami was under then it didn’t seem to be some sort of truth serum. There was nothing wore than not knowing what was going on and what was this quirk was doing to him. He wanted every muscle in his body to force him up and to leave the room that was holding him in. He wasn’t sure that he even wanted this any more. He didn’t need this…he…he shouldn’t be doing this and everything was wrong but he couldn’t say no. His muscles forced him to stay right where he was and no one was going to move and he wasn’t going to break.
“We are going to make you my personal little slut today and we are going to make sure you don’t have any time to enjoy yourself. You are not allowed to cum today, do you understand?”
Tokoyami grunted, nodding his head as Hawks lifted him up by the armpits and propped him up. The breeze hit his much smaller cock and made it stand at attention against his still clothed stomach. His eyes focused on the ground beneath him, waiting for Hawks’ next instruction. Hawks circled him once…twice…another time before his hands brushed against his dick for a split second. The touch nearly made him cum. He was so sensitive already from just a few bits of tension.
Hawks waltzed over to the chair he usually sat at, taking a seat in it and placed his hands on his lap. He gestured in a ‘come hither’ motion and Tokoyami made his way towards Hawks. His eyes scanning the specimen that was already ripe again to go in whatever hole that he wanted it in. Oh to be used as nothing but a sex toy by this man. He had someone out there who was ready for him. He was ready to be used in all of the was he dreamed. Tokoyami had been ready for that. His whole body had been ready for this.
“Sit on my lap,” Hawks commanded once more and Tokoyami sat. “I’m going to take your pants off okay? So I can fuck that pretty little asshole of yours.”
Hawks peeled off Tokoyami’s pants. His hands feeling over his legs with light fingers equivalent to his feathers. Each movement made his cock twitch in anticipation. Cum ready to release from the head, stopping right in at the tip so that he was in pain from the non-release. His body moved closer to Hawks, moving his legs just enough to get the pants onto the floor. Hawks smiled as his eyes flicked up towards Tokoyami’s gaze once more. Tokoyami’s cock twitched once more. A flush befalling his face. Hawks pulled Tokoyami onto his lap further, his body inching ever closer to Hawks. So close that he could feel Hawks’ breath on his face as he inched ever closer to Tokoyami’s face.
“You look so pretty on my lap, I could take a picture of you and frame it and people would call it a masterpiece,” Hawks whispered into Tokoyami’s ear, pulling him closer. “And we would both end up famous. Go down in history as famous lovers. We can be famous for being in love.”
Tokoyami nodded, wrapping his arms around Hawks. Tokoyami dragged his hands through his hair. Each movement he made slow and sensual and he wasn’t so sure if the movements were because he actually wanted it or because of the spell he was under. His hips thrusted forward, begging for contact. Hawks placed his hands on Tokoyami’s hips, moving his hips in one long circular motion before he lifted Tokoyami up just a bit and setting him down on his cock. A long, slow whine left Tokoyami’s mouth as Hawks filled up Tokoyami and all Tokoyami wanted to say was ‘fuck’ but there was no way he could speak. His throat caught the word before it could even escape his lips.
Every inch he took stretched him out further and further. The skin there burned as it stretched and he had no way of telling Hawks to stop. To slow down. That his desperate hole wasn’t ready for all of him. That he needed more time. That his asshole wasn’t ready for him to full him up like that. That his dick was bigger than any toy that he used in his life. That nothing could have been prepared him for the cock that was entering him. He didn’t know that he could take that much.
“Look at you, you already took half of me like a champ,” Hawks whispered in Tokoyami’s ear, earning another moan from Tokoyami. There was no way that he could take any more. “You are going to take more of this dick.”
Tokoyami grunted and nodded, pulling his hands down from Hawks’ hair and gripping his shoulder. His body shaking as Hawks pushed more into him and he took each and every inch of Hawks’ cock. Hawks mumbled praise-or what sounded like praise-into Tokoyami’s neck. Each inch he took earned more and more praise from Hawks. Each moment that passed only earned him more praise and finally, it seemed like Hawks bottomed out. There they sat. The clock ticked between breaths, counting the seconds between Tokoyami being filled up.
“There you go, look at that. You took all of me,” Hawks whispered into Tokoyami’s neck. “Now you are going to sit there and you are going to feel every inch of that dick but earn no pleasure from it. Ten minutes before I move even an inch, do you hear me?”
The clock ticked. Hawks reached over to Tokoyami and reached around on the desk something. Their noses brushed against each other. A moment later, he pulled back and flicked around on his phone for a few seconds before setting it back down on the desk.
“You may speak,” Hawks placed a hand on Tokoyami’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, you can speak to me, sweet one.”
“I hear you,” Tokoyami’s voice fell out of his mouth. The muscles sore already from the near half an hour he hadn’t spoken with magic wrapped around his throat like a hand. “Yes, I hear you.”
“You hear me, what,” Hawks demanded. His fingers wiggled on Tokoyami’s waist. “What do you call me?”
“Sir, I hear you, sir,” Tokoyami tried not to move. The pressure under slowly going away into a good, long ache.
“Good boy,” Hawks pat Tokoyami’s head. “Or should I say good bird? Who’s a pretty bird?”
“Who’s a pretty bird?” Tokoyami squawked out.
People had teased him for the way he did that. Sometimes he did that from time to time and Mineta often tried to get him to say dirty things. He did try not to do that but sometimes it slipped. Sometimes. Not all the time, but enough to get teased for it.
“I forgot you did that.”
The clocked ticked by more moments to the point where Tokoyami gre more and more comfortable on his seat. He wanted to move and it felt like he could even though he didn’t want to and earn more time on the clock. Instead, he wanted to sit there and relish the feeling so he could buy himself a toy that felt just like that so he could actually fuck himself with it. So he let the minutes pass by. Ten minutes felt like hours when he couldn’t see any kind of clock. He just had to take it all. He had to until…the timer buzzed on the desk.
“Now what did you do,” Hawks gripped Tokoyami’s throat as if that would help him speak. The muscles in his throat relaxed a bit under the warmth of his hand. “Tell me what you did today and I can let you go.”
“Dark Shadow killed that man and I am complicit in his death,” Tokoyami chocked out. His eyes spilling the tears that had collected in his eyes. “I killed someone, okay? I killed someone in cold blood and there is no excuse for what I did today.”
“I think today, I killed the king the king of deceit,” Hawks smiled. “Do you think that is a fair assessment?”
Tokoyami nodded, not wanting to talk and get himself into more trouble than he already was. He had no way out if everything went wrong again.
“Good, I’ll throw out the report and write a new one, making sure that everyone knows the death was a mistake,” Hawks smiled. “You are free to go.”
Tokoyami yanked himself off of Hawks’ cock and pulled his pants on in a rush. He didn’t want to give Hawks a reason to give him more pain and a harder dick than it already was. Tokoyami shook off the scent of sex and made his way to the bathroom so that he could jack off in private. Or as private as he could get it. Bathroom…bathroom, he thought to himself as he made his way back to the bathrooms on the other side of the building. His rock hard cock was straining against his pants as he used his hero cape to cover it up. He raced down the hallway and down the stairs, not daring to wait for the elevator to come get him. Down one floor and there the doors were. Only a few feet from relief.
He let himself in the room and locked the door behind him. His body shook as he placed a hand on his cock and stroked it a bit. It only took two strokes before Tokoyami blasted his seed onto the ground. His body shaking as his seed emptied out of his cock. He placed a hand on the wall to steady himself as the aftershocks of the orgasm ran through his body. His heart rate had gone up much higher than he had ever felt it.
Summary: What gets Aizawa off? What is his dirty secret? What motivates him? What is his favorite position? Read on and find out.
A=Aftercare
This man is the king of aftercare. Want snacks afterwords? He’s already got a bucket full of snacks next to the bed. Need some blankets? He has hundreds of them. Need a pillow? He’s got so many of them that it’s ridiculous. He’s pretty much prepared for whatever you need at the time. There is nothing better to him than a comfortable partner after sex. He actively enjoys this part of sex more than the sex itself and if sex is what gets him to caring for you afterwords, than so be it. It is his thing.
B=Body Part
You’re asking him to pick out a favorite body part on you? His brain actively glitches every time you ask him about it. He just…every part of you turns him on. Every move you make has the potential to turn him on. He wants to serve every part of you and every bit of you is absolutely delicious to him. But if he had to choose, it would be your hands. The hands that calm him down after a long day of wrangling kids into doing the right thing and being better heroes. The hands that massage aching body parts over the course of a few minutes. The hands that make him food and shove it in his face, reminding him to eat otherwise he wouldn’t. The hands that draw him a bath at the end of a long day. Damn, your hands were like seeing God.
C=Cum
This man cums like he is trying to breed you. You didn’t even think that it was a problem until he didn’t have a condom one day and he blows his load inside of you. It was like he had never jacked off in his life and stored all of his cum until he got to come to you. It was the only time it seemed like he unloaded himself and it kind of sucked to think that he was waiting for you to cum. He wants to get it all out into you, apparently.
D=Dirty Secret
This man actually loves the fact that you sometimes take charge. He was already making so many decisions in his life from the kids to the villains he fought on the way home, he loved it when he came home from a long day and you were there to take charge in the bedroom. It made him feel like you were the real hero. He was someone who didn’t like coming to you and asking for you to take charge but you would do it without really knowing. It was like you could sense that he needed someone who could come and take charge of the space that you’re in. He loved it but as a pro-hero and a teacher, he would never admit to being weak in front of anyone even you.
E=Experience
This man had…has women and men and everyone in between throwing themselves at the man’s feet. He had the pick of the litter and had so many one night stands that he didn’t reveal that to you until much later in your relationship and you didn’t freak out. You knew he already had barely enough time to form a real relationship until he met you and so there it was. You knew everything that came with the job and so long as he doesn’t cheat on you then you are fine.
F=Favorite Postion
He loves the lotus position. It was one of those positions that allowed you both to be close and look at each other. Plus it really lends itself to falling asleep right after. He loved looking at you and he was underneath you so it was a win-win situation. He wants to be underneath you at all times even when he is being more dominant towards you, he loves being the bottom in the situation…or any situation you both get into. There is nothing better than that and it makes you feel like a divine being every time you are on top.
G=Goofy
This man was only goofy when he had a full 24 hours of sleep ahead of him and when he was out of sight and hearing of the students then he was in a goofy mood so it was rare. Very, very rare that he was in the mood to be goofy. Like…so very rare that it warmed your heart to see him in a good mood. Especially after the stress Class 1-A was put under, it was good. He was so goofy that it was hard to think he was ever so sleepy and grumpy.
H=Hair
Hair pulling will happen on both sides. It just feels so good on his scalp. Sometimes his hair gets very matted so you would comb it and it would actively make him moan when you pulled on the knots. You could make him cum from that alone (even if he wants to spill his seed inside of you) but his hair would be a rats nest if you didn’t comb it and he could have some weird matts so you had to comb it.
I=Intimacy
He loves intimacy more than sex. He loves the small moments where you two can just be and not have the sex part. That was all he needed sometimes. Just the moments of build-up before sex could be the one thing that gets him off. He wants gets himself off on that more than the actual sex sometimes. He wants to just have that.
J=Jack Off
He doesn’t jack off all that much. He waits for you to get off so he can fill you with his cum. He wants his balls to be full before he gets off to you. You are the one he wants to make him feel good about it. That he mastered the ability to keep it all in for you. That you were the only one who could have his cum.
K=Kink
He gets off on being humiliated. This man likes to be degraded to the point of tears. Hell, he loves crying in bed. It’s the only time when he can truly let it all out. You can tell him all about how bad of a teacher he is and how he will never amount to anything and it just makes him harder than a rock. You didn’t do it often since it could really hurt him for real and when you do, aftercare for him is key. He also has a slight breeding kink that he will only do if you want to get pregnant (and if you have the parts to and even if you don’t he still wants to breed you).
L=Location
Anywhere, anytime baby. You both will both take what you can get. Outside of a bar after he breaks up a bar fight? Fuck yeah. In the janitor’s closet at the school? Yes. In bed? Yes. In a bush? A bit scratchy but okay. As long as you weren’t being caught breaking the law then both of you were all for it. It would make it all worth it when you both are done with it. Even if you were both completely dirty from the encounter.
M=Motivation
Aizawa has no motivation for sex at all most days and considered himself somewhere on the asexual spectrum but when he got revved up, he could stay like that for days on end before going back to having no motivation for sex. Other times, it’s just because he’s had a long day and couldn’t handle pleasuring you which is fine. You both can handle it. You are both adults and can handle your emotions.
N=No
He knows when to take no for an answer. He doesn’t like making you feel forced into doing anything that you didn’t want to do. Sometimes you weren’t in the mood and that was fine by him. He needed the extra sleep anyways so he had to also take what he could get so there was nothing better than getting what you both want and that was a day off from all of the loving. He made up for it in other ways.
O=Oral
Aizawa will give you the best head of your life. Sometimes he is too lazy to go all the way so sometimes all you get in the way of sex. This isn’t all that bad. It’s a nice way to connect sexually and is often all that he can give to you especially if he gets injured so he learned how to give you the best head of your life.
P=Pace
This man is as slow as a sloth if you let him set the pace. This man will take his sweet goddamned time and there is a time and place for that bit sometimes you wanted to go fast and rough so you had to take more the indicative yourself and set the pace. Normally it was a mix between his slow pace and a more faster pace. It was just slow enough to get into a rhythm but fast enough to hit all of the right spots.
Q=Quickie
Aizawa lives for quickies. It is all the two of you live off of unless he is at home for a few hours. You have to get it in whenever you could. He’s always tired for a reason. Hormonal teenagers with superpowers were still hormonal teenagers and they were tiring and villains are the most tiring people ever. So many things he had to do and chase down so he had to get through a lot in one day. So quickies were often the only time you had sex and that was fine by you. You had to take what you could get.
R=Risk
This man lives for the risk. It might seem like he doesn’t like that kind of thing but he loves the adrenaline rush it gives him because it keeps him awake and he acts more like a human being afterwords. Most of the kids in class notice an uptick in his energy levels after a little quickie in the janitor’s closet at school. Some kids think he’s been sleeping more but in all honesty, it’s the adrenaline. He can never get enough sleep as it is and more will never help.
S=Stamina
Aizawa can only last one round when he is really tired. He can really last more than one round if he had an hour of sleep before he found you. So he really tries to make sure that you get the most out of that one round before he had made sure you weren’t left wanting more. He doesn’t want you to feel like he isn’t doing his duty in bed and he wants to make sure you are going to orgasm at least once (if not more) during that one round.
T=Toy
He was your toy. No need for dildos or vibrators when he was around. He was the only one you needed but he wasn’t opposed to using them in the bedroom. He was ready to take on anything that you asked him to try. He was whipped and will stay whipped for you. He loves you so much that you had him in the palm of your hand and everything that you asked him to try would be tried at least once before he said yes or no to more about it.
U=Unfair
What’s unfair is that he leaves his students and work for you. He will never let his work get in the way of coming to get you. He doesn’t have the focus on other things like when you met him and its unfair to his students that he will drop everything to come fuck you when you tell him you’re horny. So often times, you wouldn’t tell him which is unfair to him since he loved to fuck you. Well, he likes calling it love making but…you liked fuck more.
V=Volume
This man has the volume that is meant to breed you but it usually ended up in a condom. Either way, it is a huge amount of cum that he just…blows. It is more than enough to breed you (if that’s what you wanted) and this man breeds you even when it comes to the volume of his cum. He has a lot to give especially when it comes to you since as said before, he waits for you to cum. It’s like he’s constantly edging you.
W=Wild Card-Condom
There. Is. Always. A. Condom. He will never pass on any potential STIs or an unwanted baby (assuming you have those parts in the first place). He doesn’t want anything bad to happen and he isn’t going to be the reason that you are in a position to be treated for an STI. He is going to make sure that you are in the best position possible and he trusts you to tell him if you want him to go condoles and even then he doesn’t want to take it off because he doesn’t want either of you to forget anything.
X=X-Ray
You had heard through the grapevine that he was the biggest most people had seen. Granted, a uterus can only take so much penis unlike other…holes so it’s not like he was huge since no one mentioned any discomfort when it came to him and his anatomy. So when you saw it, most people had overhyped how big he was. He was definitely bigger than average but he wasn’t big or abnormally large. He was just…the kind of person that was bigger than normal.
Y=Yearning (How High is Their Sex Drive?)
He yearns for you 25/8 and he loves every single moment of it. Even if other people try to pull him away from you, he is always there for you at the drop of the hate. He is whipped for you and he doesn’t care one bit. He loves you and will drop everything to show up and fuck you. It doesn’t matter what is going on around him, he drops everything when he gets the text that you are horny and ready to touch yourself. Horny during school hours and text him that you are? He can and will stop class to go have a quickie with you. This man refuses to let you masturbate.
Z=ZZZ
As much as this man loves sleeping, he won’t go to sleep until you are fully asleep. He wants to make sure that you are safely tucked in before he goes to sleep and in a bed. If you don’t drag him to bed, he will fall asleep anywhere and that isn’t good for his back or for any other joints. Hell, he would fall asleep standing up if you didn’t bring him back to bed.
Summary: During a time when Sam and Dean are separated from each other, Sam decides to take on an odd job here and there, eventually leading to an underground network of hunters who get hired by parents to dispose of imaginary friends that cause trouble.
Slush was always more abundant than snow on most days. The dirty almost water filled most of the sidewalks weeks after the last snowfall. Inches thick and ready to muddy most anything that dared touch it. Most days, he was lucky to get to the bar with no less than one new stain on his shoes. Even then he couldn’t wait to get the shoes he wore off and replace them with the ones in his backpack. The ones he kept away from the eyes of his fellow assassins in hopes that no one would steal them. Though they would have to get through a stack of blades that covered the shoes to even get them but that didn’t stop them before.
His shoulders drooped as he slid into the same spot at the bar as he always did while he was waiting for work. The chalkboard with names and a tally hung above him. A mockery if you asked him. There was no way to tell if anyone had killed as many monsters as they did. Their word was as good as any. An honor system. Even then, honor didn’t mean much to those who crawled through the bar.
“Don’t look so down,” a shot of whiskey slid into the man’s view. “You’ll get another job eventually.”
The table stuck to his clothes as his fingers inched towards the shot glass. The glass cool against his hand as he brought it up to his lips. They say whiskey burns as it slides down your throat but he had never felt such a thing when he drank it. His eyes lingered on the names that lined the chalkboard above the bartender’s head.
Axel-75, Archer-73, Blade-70…Sam-19.
“Not soon enough,” Sam dug into his pocket and slapped a five down onto the table to pay for the drink, unsure if the bartender would even be able to pick it up. “That’s my last five.”
“You can’t spend all your money on booze. Tonight, it’s all on the house,” the bartender turned his attention to the tally above his head. “Don’t think you’re going to win the pot anytime soon.”
Sam checked his watch for the time though he wasn’t sure if it would do much in the way of bringing customers to him. There were far better fighters. That was plain to see to anyone that dared walk into the bar looking for a good hunter. Some took a chance on him. Most likely out of pity. Or because his prices were so low.
“There’s always a chance you could snatch a big game,” the bartender filled up the empty shot glass up to the brim.
“Like what? Some kid crawling around playing pretend with a hydra for God’s sake?”
“Hydra only counts as one still.”
“That’s such a bad rule. It should be one death for every spinal cord I sever.”
“One heart, one death. You agreed on it.”
“Winner gets to change the rules,” Sam smirked. “Long time before I get to decide what goes. Maybe even end this for all.”
“Then what else would you do for money?”
“I don’t know, we’ll cross that bridge when we get there.”
Sam downed the last of the shot and slammed the glass on the table. His eyes grew heavy in their sockets. He shouldn’t be drinking on such an empty stomach. But he had the last of his food last week with nothing else since then. No work between last month and now either. With only 19 kills to his name, no one would want to hire him over the man with nearly 75 kills and climbing. Not unless they were dead broke and ready to just give everything up to gamble on him.
“Like I said, someone will hire you. Even if it’s five bucks for some swearing blue blob.”
“Death seems like an extreme answer to a swearing blue blob, don’t you think?”
The bartender fell silent. Another shot was poured right in front of his eyes. Though, his stomach churned at the thought of downing more alcohol. He lifted the glass to his lips. The door to the bar swung open. His glass hovered near his lips but nowhere near spilling the contents of what he had in his hand.
All eyes turned towards the man in the doorway. His coat was stained with a mix of rain and snow. His body shook though Sam couldn’t tell if it were out of fear or the cold. The man rushed to Axel. His hands grasped the collar of his shirt. He spoke but Sam couldn’t tell what he was saying. Axel shook his head. The set of curls that adorned his head shook even moments after he had stopped.
The man rushed up to Archer next. Though he only received the same response from him. Blade gave the same answer. Everyone with a body count over sixty gave the same answer. Those in the fifties and forties could only shrug as if they hadn’t made up their minds just yet.
“My daughter. Her imaginary friend just keeps multiplying. Do you think you can help me?”
“How much are we talking here?” Sam kept his eyes on the tally board.
“Bodies or money?”
“Both.”
“A hundred bodies right now at ten bucks a head.” Sam almost spat out his drink though the bartender handed a napkin at his mouth before it could fly everywhere.
A hundred separate heartbeats were more than enough money-wise. Nearly a thousand dollars for just one job! Well, nearly five hundred for the job. Half went into the pot.
“When do you need them dead by?”
“Tonight.”
The money was defiantly more of a deterrent to the others. But the more they denied it, the more money he could make. The more bodies he could rack up and get to the top of the leaderboard. The bodies must’ve been a deterrent for others. They didn’t need as many as Sam did to even begin to be in the running for bragging rights and the shot of changing the tules.
Additional Tags: Monster of the Week, Monster Violence, Tentacle Monsters
Summary: Sam and Dean come to a bed and breakfast to work on a hunt...but maybe there is something more to it.
What is in room 101?
“And this will be room for the night,” the woman swung open the door to the room. “It’s not much but you were the last to arrive.”
He bowed his head down in thanks but didn’t say anything else. The woman closed the door behind the man as he made his way in. The room was a little smaller than he would have liked. No escape route. Not even a window to let in the moonlight.
“The lights don’t work here so you’re going to have a nice sleep tonight.”
A nice sleep? Maybe for other people. But the room was already dark enough as it was with the sunlight that poured through the doorway from the stairwell across from him. Not even the light from the bathroom was enough to save it. The basement of the house was supposed to have gone to his brother if it hadn’t been for the fact that he had been caught in traffic for half an hour. He dropped his bag down at his side. The steps of the bed and breakfast worker headed back up the stairs to the kitchen.
It’s just until we catch whatever’s lurking around here, Sam promised himself as he looked around the room.
The smell of mildew hit his face. No wonder his brother didn’t want to sleep in there. It stunk so bad. He tried removing the smell from his nose but it was to no avail. It would just have to be fine for the night. After tonight he wouldn’t have to see the room again. He would just have to keep it to himself.
The bookshelf was filled with a thick layer of dust that was surely at least ten or fifteen years old at this point. He turned back to the bag he had brought in and set it down on the ground near the foot of the bed which was covered in the same crusty sheets that every grandmother had at some point in their life. They looked as though it hadn’t been moved changed since the last time someone was there. Probably hadn’t been washed since last time either. Probably just straightened up since they weren’t there long enough to give the sheets a stench.
The light was already fading from the room even though the sun wasn’t supposed to set for another few hours. His eyes flicked up to the stairs as if anyone had come down through his aunt would come down at any moment. Though, no one had descended into the room. He finished setting up the room and headed up to the stairs to grab some dinner.
“What’s it like in that room,” Dean joked, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He only came into view a little bit later. “As scary as you thought?”
He fought back the urge to cry and straightened his back up. The smell of garlic replaced the mildew that had once filled his nose. A plate of pasta was passed to him. He took the plate and walked over to the dining room. His eyes burned as the steam came up to his eyes. He set himself down at the table and pushed his chair in. The rest of the family waited for his brother to sit down at the table. His brother walked back over to the dining room table and took his seat.
“No. It’s fine. The room is fine.”
The air had chilled a bit by the time he had gotten back to his room but he had slipped into the bed nonetheless. His eyes took one look at the room before he slipped back down into the sheets. His body barely warmed up as he covered himself with his blankets.
Knock .
He shot up out of bed and scanned the room. His heart raced in his chest. So hard that he was sure that his ribs would break. That couldn’t be what he thought it was. It had to be his brother playing a trick on him.
“H-hello,” he called up the stairs.
Scraaaaape.
“Look, Dean, this isn’t funny!”
Sliiiiide.
“Dean! I swear to god stop!”
Knock.
His breath caught in his throat.
Knock.
He hoped it was just Dean.
Knock.
A shadow appeared in the doorway. Too tall to be his brother. Too tall to be any human that lived in the house. It had to be a trick of the mind. His child-like mind making things up to help fill the gap in his mind. It just had to be the house settling. It was nearly a hundred years old at this point.
Tentacles as thick as tree trunks spread crawled across the floor and towards the bed. Too many to count. He pushed himself back against the headboard. He tried to keep his cool but his heart raced in his chest. His own body betrayed the calm he had tried to keep in the face of the men. His body froze as he tried to make his escape. He wanted to move but his muscles didn’t respond to the movement. His joints locked up so bad that the bone crushed against each other as he tried to make his way out of there.
The sliver of light that came from the bathroom was not enough to stop the slithering tentacles from wrapping around his legs. Not slimy like he had expected from the shine on them. No, they were cool and thick and scaly like the belly of a snake. They yanked him down to the ground and across the ground. He shut his eyes tight. Stars blasted in his vision as he tried to make sure that he didn’t see what was surely devouring his legs at this point.
Summary: You know what time it is! I am bringing an oldie but a goodie back and this time it's in the fandoms I'm currently in!
A=Aftercare
This man does not care about aftercare at all. This man will fuck you then leave you be. If he’s feeling nice, he will toss you a towel but that is the least of your concern most days since he will try to get you out of his room as fast as possible without much thought to how you’re feeling afterwords. In all honesty, he wasn’t really taught what aftercare even was and considering that he was raised by All for One, he probably wasn’t even taught proper sex ed either so he probably doesn’t even know what to do and thinks that the towel is all he needs to do and nothing else.
B=Body Part
Since he can’t actively touch any part of your body, he generally likes your eyes the most. Even if he doesn’t actually look into them all that often, he decides that your eyes are the best part as those are something he can actually look at when he is fucking you. Not like he cares to look into them all that much and seems to actively avoid that since there is nothing worse he can think of than forming an attachment to you and the eyes are the only thing he can think of when you ask what he likes most about you.
C=Cum
Shigaraki truly is the only one who can come in the relationship. He never lets you finish and will never be able to get you even close enough to finishing. He hates the thought of brining you any pleasure. There is nothing worse to him than bringing you to completion and that will remain that way as he leaves you to usually finish on your own after he finishes inside you. He makes sure he finishes and gets his own pleasure out of the situation that you two are in.
D=Dirty Secret
Shigaraki is forming an attachment to you and that only makes him hornier than usual which makes the situation with the League of Villains much worse. He doesn’t want you to know that you are the only reason his faith in All for One is wavering. He wants to remain strong for All for One and complete the mission he was given. Fucking you is the best part of his day and he is going to have to stop if the
E=Experience
Luckily for you, you had all the experience and he had none. So you were in charge the first time you two hooked up. After that (and with porn as an unwitting teacher) he got getter with time. Not like it mattered when he was so innocent the first time. That was the only time that you truly ever came. He didn’t know that he liked what he liked until you (and porn) came along.
F=Favorite Postion
Anything where he didn’t have to look at you while he got his rocks off. It would at least be like he was fucking one of those actresses he saw in the porn he watched. Not like it mattered.
G=Goofy
This is Shigaraki, there is nothing goofy about him. Moving along.
H=Hair
Touch his hair and you die. But if he touches your hair then you just have to deal with all the grabbing and touching and the yanking. He loved that shit so long as you didn’t show that you were having too much fun with it.
I=Intimacy
No intimacy, only getting out once he was done with you. That was it. No hugs, no kisses, nothing. He stuck it in, got off and forced you to leave.
J=Jack Off
Shigaraki didn’t need to jack off. He had you, usually and you were the best sex toy that he could have ever thought of. You weren’t plastic like anything on the internet and you were warm like nothing else ever was. But you were left jacking off alone because he never cared to get you off.
K=Kink
He doesn’t really have that many kinks. He just wants to fuck. That’s it. Getting off is his kink.
L=Location
Anywhere and anytime he wanted. It didn’t matter where you two were, if Shigaraki was horny, he was horny and you both were going to fuck.
M=Motivation
This man offers no motivation. You are the motivation and the only reason he ever really fucked. Everything you did was motivation that he needed to fuck and that was it. He saw you once and he was ready to fuck. He was going to fuck you no matter what was going to happen.
N=No
This man never wanted to hear the word ‘no’ come from you. When it was time to fuck, it was time to fuck. Like the good little doll you were, you were the only thing he needed or wanted when he wanted to get off. He was going to fuck you, no matter what.
O=Oral
He really made you suck off his crusty, musty dick more than once and your mouth ended up full of dead skin by the end of it and there was no amount of mouthwash that would get it out. You felt it long after you were done.
P=Pace
Fast, slow, medium, it didn’t matter. He set the pace and it was part of the reason you rarely got off. He was the one who set it and it was all for his sake.
Q=Quickie
Depending on the day and how much pain he was in, he was always in the mood for a quickie. There was nothing that you could do against the sex part and he was going to have a quickie no matter what. He was going to fuck you even it meant being in an open, public place.
R=Risk
This man loves risk. He loves thinking that the League of Villains might hear him. Even if it meant endless amounts of teasing from them. There was nothing he loved more than the risk of teasing. He doesn’t even think about what the consequences might be considering the fact that well…he doesn’t even buy condoms for the both of you. But he loves it. He gets off on it.
S=Stamina
He can go for hours if he is horny enough and he could go longer if you are happy enough to keep him entertained. Even if that meant hours upon hours of edging for you. But he was usually over with it quick and he wasn’t going for another round after he was done. All that mattered was him and how he was feeling and that usually meant getting over with it quick and easy.
T=Toy
It wasn’t him using a toy, it was you afterwards. As it has been said, he doesn’t let you cum and you were left to your devices and you would have to get yourself cum on your own. Otherwise you would never get off. If he had seen the toys you had stashed away, he probably would never let you cum ever again and that would be a tragedy for the both of you.
U=Unfair
He literally never let you cum which was unfair to you. You had no pleasure from this arrangement and it was more like you were his toy than anything else. He just…used you like a sex doll and then let you go. Maybe he did care for you but he wasn’t about to say that and he wasn’t about to let you know that he cared for you (if he did and if he ever will let himself know that). So no, he didn’t let you cum and that was unfair.
V=Volume
Like his dick, his volume is…average. Nothing to write home about. He truly is average in every way besides the quirks that he has gotten. He just…didn’t have time to actively make more than he already did at the time. He just…he did the best he could and that was about it. He didn’t even seem to be embarrassed about it at all. Maybe he just accepted it. Maybe there was something else.
W=Wild Card-Condom
Shigaraki never, ever uses a condom, ever. He didn’t even care sometimes to think about going to get some. He just wants to get it all over with. He wants to fuck then leave. The condom is barely even an afterthought. He just wants to fuck you. Get all of his juices out and he doesn’t even consider getting them half the time since he doesn’t want to incur the teasing of the other members. Especially since they already talk so much about how him not wanting those things might be the reason why he barely even thinks about that kind of thing so buying them for you or for him just wasn’t in the question.
X=X-Ray
You had gotten your hopes up once before you saw him that he was a bit bigger than average like your past fucks but he was average. Maybe even a little smaller than average. Stunted maybe. There wasn’t much to the eye but he at least knew how to use it to the point where it almost didn’t matter that he was…like that and that you may have been slightly disappointed that he was just smaller than your last few times. He just…was Shigaraki and that was all you needed to get off. At least, for the time being, it was good enough and as soon as you both could find a better fuck, you two would part ways.
Y=Yearning (How High is Their Sex Drive?)
Not as high as you are thinking. His body is constantly in pain for the most part. He doesn’t even get “in the mood” but horny and that really is only for you and even then his drive isn’t that high. He has needs but he’s not going to actively go after it. He wouldn’t actively make the first move if he wanted to so there is nothing more than you…and his brain goes brrrr. Something clicks and he gets lustful and horny and that nothingness gets a little spark and he wants to fuck like there’s no tomorrow. It’s like his dick has a selection and it’s tuned into just you.
Z=ZZZ
Shigaraki immediately passes out after you leave. Sex takes a lot out of people and more specifically him since his body is still preparing for All for One. But it’s not like he’s going to be all that nice to you after the deed was done and you were definitely already out of the room by the time he flopped back down onto the bed so you weren’t going to see how fast he falls asleep after the deed is done.
Additional Tags: Angst, Heavy Angst, Minor Anakin Skywalker & Obi-Wan Kenobi, Minor Padmé Amidala/Anakin Skywalker, Minor Leia Organa & Anakin Skywalker, Minor Luke Skywalker & Anakin Skywalker, Anakin Skywalker Needs a Hug, Anakin Skywalker Doesn't Turn to the Dark Side, Canon What Canon?, Anakin is Angsty
Summary: So like…hear me out…ya know in the first ep of the new Kenobi series Ben is just hanging out creepily looking at Luke from a distance? Yeah, this fic is like that but with Anakin and like…less creepiness…and less child staring and just generally very…Anakin-y…
Author’s Note: Don’t forget to reblog this if you really liked it!
Anakin had no idea that he had children until it was far too late. Everyone thought he had died and his only love was gone as well. No one he knew or loved even knew that he had made it out. Albeit now he no longer had any of the limbs he once used. He cursed himself for letting his own anger get in the way of the love he felt for others. He no longer felt what love should be. What even was the feeling anymore? Had it been ripped out of his chest and tossed into the ashes of his limbs all those years ago? Had it been pulled from him that day on Mustafar along with all hope that he were to live a normal life?
That he had been made to live a life of exile as he watched his children grow up without knowing what he had done to their mother and what had become of their father? Did they even ask questions about him? Did they wonder where they came from? Did they accept that they were just a creation of their parents? Had they been told that they had been adopted? Were they growing into their power now? They had to be around that age now, right? He had seemed to lose track of time over the course of his…healing.
The burn scars were still there. Faint now and not as raised as they used to be. He was apparently lucky that someone was able to find him so soon after Obi-Wan left him there to die. They said the scars would have been worse if the fire had settled in any longer. But it was quick…the thought that he was going to die there. Fleeting and as soon as he thought it, he was being saved. Not like he really wanted to be saved. Even after all the pain of healing that happened in the months and years after he was left to die.
Most days, he spent time in the cave he had found when he came to Tatooine for the first time since he had left. He had heard rumors about one of his children being brought here to keep them safe. Seemed like an obvious place to hide the child now that he had all the time in the world to think about it. He had no one else to thank but himself for the fate of his children. Had the dark side not been so tempting…
The wind kicked sand onto Anakin’s face and for the moments that he was blinded, he could still make his way through the desert landscape of his home planet like he had lived there all his life. The sand ripped open any skin open to the elements which wasn’t much and served only to make his already painful skin all more painful. Years later he still felt the pain that had been inflicted on him.
Anakin. The voice of his old master seemed to call to him even after all these years. It was almost as if on cue. A plead to believe that he was still alive. He had hoped that no one was able to feel him through the Force. Maybe he had run far enough away from any Jedi to evade the Force. At least once a day his old master called out to him as if he were praying that he was still alive and he didn’t want to think about the pain he felt every time he called out to him.
It wouldn’t take long for Anakin to get to the town he lived outside of. He had grown used to walking the distance. Even when hungry, tired, sleepy or all three. He was completely thirsty. He had gone through the water he had rationed from a stolen pitcher from a house near where he lived. It seemed no one had noticed that he had taken any of their food or water.
The town was always busy during the middle of the day and pretty much entirely a stupid idea considering what he was hiding from. Who he was hiding from. There were so many people out and about that there would be a sure chance that he was recognized but he needed to leave the cave before he died of…something. Thirst? Hunger?
Anakin slid into his seat, head covered with his hood so that no one could see him. A piece of paper slid in front of his face that listed all of the food and their respective prices but he didn’t want to take long to look over the menu. The longer he spent out of the cave he had chosen to live in, the more people saw him and would turn him into whatever side was giving out the most money at the moment. Everything on the menu seemed too pricey for the low amount of money he had. He could scavenge the desert for some lonesome creature that he could eat on fire or head into one of the houses outside of town and take some of their food and hope that no one noticed as he had been for the last few months. But already prepared food sounded nice.
“Just some water,” Anakin kept his head down and his voice low even though mumbling wouldn’t actually make much sense in this context. “Please.”
“Could you speak up, sir? I can’t quite hear you,” the woman leaned down closer to Anakin as if she were leaning own to listen to a small child. Her voice in the same tone as a mother speaking to her small child.
Anakin lifted his head up to meet the eyes of the woman standing at the corner of the other end of the table. She…she looked so much like… Anakin shook off the thought and cleared his still-fried vocal cords to make sure that he could still speak. He couldn’t speak up much more due to the scaring without something a bit more…terrifying. She held a soft smile on her face as she seemed to wait for an acceptable answer from him.
“Just some water please,” the voice that came out was nothing like the one he used to have. It was at least an octave deeper and sounded like nails on stone which wasn’t much better than the voice he originally had if you asked some. “If you don’t mind.”
The woman turned away from him and made her way to another table where her smile only seemed to grow even more. It wasn’t actually much wider but it seemed wider now that she was out of whatever cloud that seemed to hang around Anakin. The smoke of his own burning flesh seemed to be an active replant to all intelligent lifeforms that had the disgrace of being around him. Not like he wanted people coming near him. The wanted posters that hung on the walls of every establishment and house around were a reminder of how much his life was worth.
According to the newest posters that hung outside, he was worth at least ten thousand credits. The number seemed to grow lower and lower with each passing month that he stayed hidden. Soon it could hit near zero. He could possibly go outside more if he were no longer as wanted as he was right now. Even now, as low as the number was, it didn’t seem like there was much safety in which he could have around town. If he was scraped for credits at some point, he could turn himself in and see If he could get the money. Maybe Obi-Wan would still have some power with the council and have them grant him some leniency. There was something in the air around Anakin and it wasn’t him.
Maybe it was the rumor that he was alive that scared him so much. There seemed to be only a few people who knew that he was even alive but someone must have blabbed for these wanted posters to be around. There was going to be someone who had walked into a place where they shouldn’t have and seen him in that tank. Hell, even he knew there were some curious clones and droids entering places that they shouldn’t. What a sight to see that was, now that he thought about it. A torso floating in a bacta tank and nothing else.
Anakin shook his head at the thought. There were more pressing issues. By his calculations, his kid’s birthday would be coming up soon. They would be three now that he was thinking about it. Too young to understand what had happened to their parents. Too young to think of much more than what they were going to do that day. What they were going to play with.
“You look…familiar. Do I know you from somewhere,” the woman asked as she handed him his drink and snapped him out of his thoughts.
Anakin’s eyes snapped up to the woman and he had to shake the image of Padme out of his mind as he tried to keep her from seeing his full face. Anakin had to fight the urge to shake his head no. His eyes darted to the wanted poster on the wall just near the door.
“I think I just have a familiar-looking face.”
No use in trying to trick her into forgetting him again. Her mind seemed to already be catching on to the fact that he was someone who came here more frequently than once every few months. The move would be a simple one. Just merely a wave of the hand and a few suggestive words. It’s not like he wanted to be seen as the Skywalker that nearly ended the Jedi Order. Well, more like he was the one who ended it entirely but ended up not coming out on the other side as another pawn…was pawn even the right word for it? There had to be a better word for it than a pawn. Either way, he wasn’t so sure that there would be any reason for him to show his face in town more than nessacary. There could be any number of bounty hunters out there waiting for their chance to get their hands on him.
He could barely even walk now. The joints in his knees creaked with rust as he stood to down the rest of his water. Any way of repairing them would mean He set down some credits on the table. Three of them jingled in his pocket, the last of any riches he was able to steal before he left the clutches of the Sith. A smile crossed his face. He had kept the money stretched out for pretty much an entire year. He would soon have to steal or find work to get more money but that was tomorrow’s problem. His hand brushed against the still un-cleaned tables, considering the food that was left by those who didn’t know that his stomach grumbled at the thought. Today he just wanted to see the sun after spending the last week or so inside of a cave getting none whatsoever.
The sun had long since gone down as he stepped out into the street once more. The night had returned to comfort him. No now could truly see his face then and if they did, they could brush it off as some trick of the light that made them think that they saw the person on the wanted poster. It was the only time that he could take off his hood. It slipped off and he was finally allowed to breathe for the most part. There were still people out and about but there were still people out. A few kids were playing in the dark close to home.
The laughter…oh the laughter. It echoed in his mind with the same dream-like tinkle Padme’s had when he was dreaming about her. But this laughter wasn’t a memory he was supposed to have at all. He had no children. None that he could take care of. None that he could remember or even see. What would they think if he showed up where they lived? Some man they had never met showing up claiming that he was their father? The one who had killed younglings and caused chaos across the universe? The man who was all on the wanted posters? The laughter brought a flutter to his chest and even though he had wanted to stay in the town a bit longer, he decided to make his way out. The laughter that had now died down brought tears to his eyes and he had no idea why he was feeling this way. If he had not known that his children survived, would he still feel this way?
The walk back to his cave wasn’t as bad as the morning with all the wind. It was strangely calm outside. The echoes of the children still hadn’t left his head as he made his way back to the cave, crawling into the darkness that he had left that morning. His body, going through the motions of stripping down to his underclothes and starting a fire to keep himself as warm as possible through the night. There were only a few pieces of wood left but it would just be enough to get him through the night and the cave would be able to hold in any residual heat. There could be enough for two nights if he truly wanted to consider stretching it out but it would be two semi-cold nights compared to one warm night. A hug from the light of what seemed to be the only thing that was keeping him sane right now besides the thought of reuniting with the children who were out there. His own tie back to the world he had left so long before.
All of the longs made their way into a pile in the center of the cave. His hands mulling over the hilt of someone’s old lightsaber. It wasn’t his. He wasn’t able to find it after the fight with Obi-Wan. Not like it mattered. Any use of that one might be a beacon to Obi-Wan. He had used this one only to light the fires that kept him warm. The weapon hadn’t been used as one in years and in some way, that was a bit better. A shockwave of energy shot up his arm whenever he used it, the bright light of the fire growing out of the purple glow of his saber. His whole body shook. The longer he held the saber, the more his body vibrated with the energy.
Anakin. Twice in one day. That was a bit odd for his old master. Anakin tossed the saber to the side. The metal clink of the hilt echoed as it disappeared into the darkness. There must have been some sort of connection the saber made stronger. One Anakin had no one intention of forcing and making it any stronger. Anakin knocked the sound of Obi-Wan’s voice out of his head and settled into the darkness. His own eyes finally adjusted to the darkness around him.
The fire crackled in front of him. The fire danced in front of him like some Twi’lek dancers in a canteen. His mind played tricks on him like it usually did when he was halfway between sleep and his awake state. He could die there and no one would know that he was even there. He pulled his robe over him and snuggled into the wall, his eyes on the fire for a moment. He wished that he could keep his eyes open for a bit longer but had no energy left in him. His body collapsed into sleep at that very moment.
~
The walk to town the next morning was a lot less bearable. His whole body ached with the thought of having to steal in order to survive. Well, it could be that or it could be the fact that he was no longer full of any semblance of food. The scent of food carried him into the town square. Another busy day for them. Not unusual for the town to be so busy during the day but there as more people there than usual. Was there a festival that he had forgotten about? A holiday that had slipped his mind? He usually couldn’t care about the days but today seems especially important to those around him as they chattered and spoke to each other. It only served to give him the perfect cover for stealing his next few meals.
His hands grazed the stalls, looking over the few pieces of treasure he wanted for food. His stomach growled as he looked over the food that he could never afford even before he had made his way back to his home planet. The pouch he had brought with him was getting fuller by the minute. Soon there would be more than enough food to feed him for at least another week. There could even be more if he were to stretch it out. He would only need a bit. Not much. That was at least one of the better parts of him losing all of his limbs was that there was less of him to use energy and even less of him to keep fit. It would only be more of a hassle to keep the limbs that have burdened him for so long but there was something to be missed about them.
He missed the feeling…touch. He couldn’t feel anything anymore. He couldn’t feel the cold of the cave walls nor it’s warmth when it finally did get warmed by the fires he lit at night. He couldn’t feel the robes he wore rubbing against his arms or legs and he missed the itch they gave him on his arms and legs. People said the robes were itchy and they were but there was nothing that he missed more than the itch. Well, there was one thing that he missed more than the itch of his robes. The touch of his love. A love that he killed.
The chatter of the people around of him had seemingly quieted around him. The crowd of people holding his cover had parted. There were only a few people left standing in the way of whatever they had turned to face. Their eyes were downtrodden but still pointed in the direction of who they were looking at. Thankfully it wasn’t him but someone on the other side of the part. Anakin pushed his back against a cart, taking a bit of meat while no one was looking and while he had the chance. He hid his face in the shadow of his hood. There crowd’s chatter hushed and the thuds of boots on the soft ground were all he needed in the way of the danger that was bound to come for him.
It was like he couldn’t even sense them at all. Not even the slightest semblance of danger. Not even a sense of calm that he usually got around others. Either way, he kept his head down. There had never been a moment where he didn’t trust his senses and his whole body tingled at the thought of going numb to the Force. He couldn’t;t let that part of him go so numb. Black boots appeared in front of his eyes, pausing for a moment before walking out of view.
“We are looking for a Jedi,” a deep, gravelly voice announced. As if no one knew his face. “We believe he has come here to hide.”
No shit. Maybe the obvious hiding spot was a good plan after all. It had taken them a while to find him here and they certainly didn’t seem to sense his children at all from what it seemed like. That was if he were to believe in the rumors said about them and he was alive.
“There are no Jedi here,” a woman-the same sing-song voice from yesterday-spoke. He had never gotten her name. “No use in looking here.”
An echo of parchment paper ripping and the echo of silence right after, “Not even this one?”
“No,” the woman spoke again. To the untrained ear, her voice carried an even tone but her ‘no’ had drawn out a bit too long for that to be the case. “Not even that one.”
“Do you know the penalty for lying?”
Anakin lifted his head up ever so slightly. Just enough that he was able to see the woman and the man antagonizing him. He had his back turned to Anakin and he held the wanted poster in front of the woman’s face. Her back was pressed against the wall as her eyes flicked over to Anakin. The swallow of spit she took was so big he could see it from there. He placed a hand over the space where he thought he would find his saber but there was nothing.
“Yes,” the woman took her eyes off of him. “Death.”
“She’s not lying to you,” a man spoke up. “There have been no Jedi here. I would check the next town over if I were you. I heard the Jedi move too frequently in fear of being caught.”
The man turned away from the woman and took a step towards the voice that had spoken up. His eyes scanned the man for a few seconds before he turned back around to face the rest of the crowd that had gathered around the three of them. Deep, red eyes that seemed to glow with the same hatred that had burned inside of him all those years ago. Hew knew that look too well. He didn’t even turn his eyes away from the poor soul as his eyes seemed to scan Anakin with some glint of familiarity. The wanted poster didn’t do him much justice. They made him look uglier than he truly was so it was much easier to keep himself away from the eyes of those who were tracking him.
The man turned on his heel and made his way the way he came from. The urge to run back home to his cave tingled in every nerve he still had left and spend his remaining hours on this planet picking up as many of his belongings as he could but they didn’t seem to recognize him now. He could have a day to pack and if he got a whiff of more trouble then he could leave. The woman swayed in front of the canteen, her eyes scanning the crowd for a brief moment before they landed on him. He mouthed a soft ‘thank you’ before turning around.
His legs collided with something hard. Air escaped his lungs like he had run into a wall. His eyes watered as he looked for what had collided with his leg. Only the back of the cart he had been leaning against. The eyes of a small child peaked over a barrel. A man-who’s face was partially hidden in shadows-was behind him by just a few feet. The man placed a hand on his hip, pulling away from a robe just enough to let the sun catch the glint of the hilt of his lightsaber. That must have been the person the woman was protecting. Not just him but the person behind him. Two Jedis on one planet? While hiding from Order 66? That seemed to be unheard of. But he did hear that they were rounding up force-sensitive people as well and not just Jedis.
Anakin dropped to his knees in front of the child. His eyes fixated on the curious yet defiant eyes that reminded him so much of Padme’s. His heart fluttered in his chest. Was this-was this the child they had talked about? Was this one of them? The crowd spun around him as the child took a few steps away from him. The child turned on his heel and sprinted towards the man who picked up the kid and propped him on his hip. For a brief moment, his face entered the light.
An unburnt, unbroken Anakin faced him. Crow's feet had begun to form and his face had a few wrinkles that had begun to make their appearance in Anakin’s older age. His smile lines were much deeper than they were now as if he spent all his time laughing. The child swung their feet at Anakin’s side and Anakin’s hand tickled the child’s side. The child giggled as Anakin swung him around to finish off the job. Their forms disappeared into the shadows.
Anakin pulled himself up off the ground, dusting the sand off of his knees. He waddled through the crowd, rubbing where the skin became metal on his right thigh. The pouch was full now and he was ready to go home to his cave. No one could see him cry if he could even produce enough tears to do so. He shuffled his way to the end of the market, cursing himself for not bringing another pouch.
There was only one stall left at the end of the market. A tiny old woman sat behind it and she was seemingly blind. The closer he got to her, the more he had to come to the realization that he could let his guard down a bit. The stall only held a few knickknacks that looked all handmade. She seemed to sense his presence and turned her face in his direction.
“Hello,” she croaked out. His hands brushed over the small toys, mostly planes made from wood or some other material but his hand stopped over a small doll that seemed to be made out of straw. “Do you see anything you like?”
“How much for the doll,” Anakin picked it up and lifted it to his chest, giving it a small squeeze.
“Three credits,” a smile crossed the woman’s face. “Who is it for, I may ask?”
“My daughter.” It sounded odd coming out of his mouth. He knew he had children but he didn’t know what they were in terms of boy-boy, boy-girl or girl-girl or whatever combination in-between but he had this deep feeling that he had a girl and a boy. Anakin pulled the last of his credits out of his pockets and set them on the table in front of the woman. “This is for my daughter.”
The woman pushed the credits back to Anakin, “Keep the credits and the doll.”
Anakin didn’t have any fight left in him for the old woman and took two of the three credits back before he took off for home if that was what he could call it. The sun was to his back the entire time he walked home and the pouch he had brought with him had been lightened a bit as he munched on a cracker. As his mouth ran dry, he cursed himself for not getting water while he was in town and there were few houses around him. But thankfully it looked like it was going to rain so he would set out a pot for the night and hope it did rain as he would hate to go to town three times in one week.
The doll was strapped to his chest as he made his way into the cave, setting the pouch somewhere cool to wait until after the sunset. The doll dropped to the ground after the strap that held the pouch had been removed, and a small cloud of dust kicked up into his face as he bent down to pick it up with less than dexterous hands. The doll flickered feebly as his hand hovered over it but it didn’t leap into his hand until he was a few millimeters away from picking it up himself. With his other hand, he picked out a small piece of bread and the pot he wanted to collect the rain.
He shuffled to the cave opening once more and slid into a sitting position. His eyes focused on the setting suns. He placed the doll beside him. With that, Anakin added another doll to the tiny pile he had hidden in the corner, all too fearful of what he might do if he were to see it every time he got back to the cave. Hopefully, by the time he worked up the courage to go and introduce himself to them, they would still enjoy the toys their father had gotten them. An island of dolls waiting to be played with.
“Did you see the way she looked at me,” Denki flexed his arms, turning around to face the rest of the group. “She’s totally in love with me.”
“No way she’s in love with you,” You tapped his shoulder as you brushed past him in order to get to your seat. “Maybe she’s just trying to be nice.”
“Why would she be trying to be nice?”
“Because we walked past her and it’s nice to smile at people,” you shrugged your backpack off and sat down in your seat. “Also, she’s our teacher so it’s not like she won’t be happy to see that we somehow haven’t died yet.”
“Only you have her for art class and it’s not like she doesn’t see you after every major fight,” Denki rolled his eyes and took a seat near you. “What is she, your mother?”
“No,” but it feels like it. Those words remained unsaid as you made yourself comfortable in the seat, waiting for the bell to ring and end this dumb conversation so that you could go back to thinking that there was nothing wrong with Denki. “But she’s still someone who needs to be nice to us.”
“No one has to be nice to you,” Ida came into the conversation like he always did since he had nothing else going on in his life.
“Did anyone ask you,” you snapped, too tired to deal with the bullshit that spewed from Ida’s mouth.
“No,” Ida seemed to tuck his tail between his legs like a puppy who had been kicked in the stomach. It seemed you were the only one who had been able to pull a reaction like that. “But I just wanted to put my-,”
“Why the fuck are you still talking,” you snapped back at Ida, waiting for him to make a move on you. His brows furrowed but he did nothing else. “Look, she’s too nice to actually be flirting with you of all people, Denki.”
“But all women are flirting all the time,” Mineta piped up. That’s what you always think.
You let out a sigh and turned back to the rest of the class as Aizawa came into the room, silencing the conversation entirely. Anyone who wanted to smack the shit out of Mineta would have to line up at the end of class and Denki would need a talk about sex ed later.
There was a fine line between lover and friend. You and Stain danced around the title of lovers for years. Ever since you took the hero path and he took the villain one. It’s not like you could stop yourself from caring for the poor bastard after all these years. You had taken so much pity on him when you both were in school and it took until he paralyzed you for you to realize how dangerous his quirk could be. Not like you cared all that much anyhow. He was a sweet kid and you did nothing more than be his friend. Even then, friendship wasn’t enough to save him.
It took until you became a hero to realize that he never really cared all that much about the goal the two of you had once worked for. That he had been indoctrinated into the same beliefs you had though it seemed it had been twisted around in his head and spat back out the other end. And when you captured him that night in Hosu, he looked you over with wild eyes that seemed to soften when they finally locked with yours. It was like the kid you once knew had come back.
Characters: Ned Stark, Aerys II Targaryen, Jaime Lannister
Additional Tags: None
Summary: Inspired by a passage on page 116 of A Game of Thrones
Ned knew nothing of the horrors he would see on the other side of the castle doors. He had seen all too much of the horrors of war. He had seen many men butchered on the battlefield but even then, he had never even thought that the battle would come so close to the Red Keep. War had ravaged the countryside and the small villages surrounding them but he had prayed to the Old and the New that it wouldn’t touch the keep. With Aerys locked up in his own little keep, he had no where else to go. The screams of the king had echoed through the city for days, growing quieter and quieter with every scream. Burn them all! Burn them all! A cry to the dragons that would never come.
If he had half a mind, he would have looked over his shoulder in hopes of getting a good look at the long since extinct animals. Sword in hand, his horse whinnied in discomfort as Ned waited for those who followed him to open the doors for him. A breath caught in his throat as the doors swung open in front of him. His eyes scanned the room in front of him. The room was pretty much in perfect condition, down to the dragon skulls that greeted him on either side. But those didn’t catch his eye as much as the shadow on the throne in front of him.
It wasn’t much of a shock to see Jaime and the Kingsguard there. What was a shock was the king. He lay there in a pool of something shiny. Ned dare not get off his horse for fear of being implicated in the attack. His eyes dropped down to meet the king. He lay there in a pool of blood. From the looks of it, the poor king was stabbed in the back.
“How,” the word dropped out of Ned’s mouth before he could even think about what he wanted to say next. His eyes scanned the room. There was nothing more that he could do for the poor king. He was dead. His skin was pale and if he were to place his fingers on the neck of the king, he was sure that it would be cold. “What happened here?”
None of the Kingsguard seemed to want to answer Ned as his eyes locked with the man on the throne. He had only heard of the man on the throne tangentially. The tales of a young Jaime Lannister and his raise to the Kingsguard. The young man had a glow to him that could only be described as the tell-tale Lannister gold. Even under a lion’s head helm, there was that glow to him and Ned didn’t have to see his face to know that he had the same Lannister gold hair.
Ned took a lap around the keep, still in disbelief about the fact that the king was dead…all in the name of what? Some lie that he had to keep? Some love that he knew would never happen? A marriage that he knew would be a sham either way? Each skull of the dragon got larger and larger as he made his way towards the throne. No more dragons meant no more threat. Surely the children were also dead and everyone related to them would surely be dead by now.
“The king is dead,” Jaime responded. Ned’s eyes turned to the young man on the throne, catching the tail end of a movement that could only be described as him wiping the blood off of his sword. “Pretty obvious.”
Ned bit his tongue, stopping short of accusing Jaime of being a kingslayer. The truth would soon come out and Ned was outnumbered two to one at the moment. He had no chance if he were to attack and he had barely any evidence that Jaime was the one who had killed the king. Each man squinted as if sizing each other up. Jaime rose from the throne and took a few steps towards Ned, taking his helm off in the process and revealing his long, flowing golden mane.
“Have no fear, Stark. I was only keeping it warm for our friend, Robert. It’s not a very comfortable seat, I’m afraid.”
Summary: Shigaraki muses on the quirk singularity theory.
No one would ever think that there would be a time in their life when they were met with the possibility of quirk singularity. It was just a whole theory after all. Even with each generation becoming more powerful, it wasn’t like there would be any reason to believe in such a thing. It was absolutely asinine even to think that such an outcome would happen. It was nothing more than a theory yet to be proven. None that would even matter if you asked anyone outside the small group that believed that one day there would be someone with a quirk so powerful that whoever held it would have god-like power. Who was to say someone didn’t already have that quirk? There were already so many people out there who could seemingly destroy the world with a snap of their fingers and they were already five generations deep into the quirk gene being expressed. What if there was someone already out there who had nothing but time and energy to curate a quirk so strong that it would take everyone down from the inside out?
Shigaraki tried to pay no mind to that theory. He had more important things to worry about…like not being killed by his own damned quirk. His body was just as weak as the first time he had used his quirk. He had no one else to thank but himself for his dead family and though there was nothing but anger fueling him now…it was super agitating to think that there was someone out there who could eventually be more powerful than him. Who dare outshine him? Who dared to outshine All for One? Who dared to outshine All Might?
There was no way that anyone would come around and take the title of the most powerful person with a quirk. There was no one that could ever come around and dethrone him. There was no one out there who could do that to him. He worked too hard for him to even fathom the possibility. He had been reborn as this…this thing meant to become the one everyone feared. Not someone who may or may not come around to mess everything up for him.
And as Shigaraki’s hand gripped Deku’s throat, he thought maybe…just maybe he was the one everyone was looking for. The one who proved the theory.
Summary: Everyone knew of the letter. The one posted by Dynamight at the start of the war between the hero Deku and the now disgraced hero. The one that started it all. The one that lead everyone to finally agree on the conclusion. Dynamight killed those people. He killed those women and he straight up admitted to it. He had admitted to everything before he eventually went out in a blaze of glory. He had never been the same since he had been kidnapped. Every knew that. They knew that he was an angry child. They knew all about his villainous ways. It was hard to believe that he had even attempted to be a hero in the first place.
He was completely too much to handle. Deku knew that all too well. It was completely ignored. No one even tried to think that he was going to end up a villain. The letter was proof enough that he would never be the same ever again.
To the Public:
The less open minded among the world would say that I killed those women. It couldn’t be any further from the truth. I kept them alive. I gave them something few would ever know. Immortality, plain and simple. They said that no one had figured out the secret to eternal youth. Well, I had…I have. It’s called the camera lens.
You reading this-fake psychiatrist, earning maybe two bucks an hour on this lousy anonymous forum-you might want to call the police after you read this, have them track me down. Shouldn’t be difficult considering you know who I am if you’ve been keeping up to date with the news. You should know the general vanity in which I operate and the methods I utilize. And you know what I mean, too, when I say I provide immortality.
Think about if, just for a moment, before you Ruch to any conclusions. Those women-all of them-will live longer lives now that they’ve been dragged out of the shadows. Out of the mundane, the placid. Last week tori faces were plastered, in a deluge of ink, onto every major regional publication. They became famous, well known. I gave them something they never could have been afforded if they had gone on living as they had been. Now they live on in celluloid. In memories. Because memories di a better job of painting someone than their immediate physical presence. Absence makes the heart grow fonder.
I understand there are no professional photographers here. There are likely none in the police department, either, at least not any who are versed in composition and the rule of thirds and the right sort of film to buy for a particular atmosphere and so on. The pictures they took of the bodies were rushed, amateurish, did my work a disservice. Now, my photos, on the other hand-the ones which landed smack dab on the front page-they looked so much better. I think, even if you are averse to my activity, you must admit that. You saw them. I know you did. And while you looked at them, casually, you were thinking “Wow. This guy may be a horrible person-mentally cared, devoid of compassion or empathy-but he took such great PHOTOS. Glossy and sheen, just the right exposure. Just the right lens.”
Well. I’m glad you appreciate them. And I’m sure my subjects did as well, when you get down to it. I mean. Think about it. You just walk along that narrow stretch every fay, probably to a hero agency or something, where you shuffle paperwork around, never really accomplishing anything. Never really becoming a part of history. Not that people will remember, at any rate.
Now though, they’re contemporary Black Dahlias. I think the press has become sloppy as of late. Not enough sensationalism, too much accuracy. Not exploitative enough. My dear friends at the fourth estate, had it not been for my painstaking efforts to pose my cadaver just so, would have been at a loss in describing the utter abhorrence of my crimes. I did most of the work for them, and.I thank them for fulfilling my goal. If I can predict how the coverage will plat out that well, I’m surely going to elude justice for a while yet. Just need to plan ahead. That’s really all there is to it. Considering how much hindsight I’ve got, I think I’m well covered in the foresight department.
Not that I hoard technique. On the contrary, I’d be all too happy to let you all in on my acumen. The real trick is keeping the limbs still. They always tend to move, ever so slightly, just with gravity pulling them down. In the end, I decided to use transparent fishing wire, sort of to dangle theyr arms from the ceiling, give the appearance of a handshake or a wave. And of course, I taped some rules to their arms in the back, to ensure the proper righty.
The trickiest part was to get their expressions down pat. I had to stuff their cheeks with cotton balls, tape their eyelids open from the inside. The human face has a ton of expressive muscles, you know. I did my best to cover each of them. Most of the shots, I would say, took at least three hours to set up, when all was said and sone. Three hours the detectives weren’t able yo find me. Three hours with nobody smelling the toying decay from my apartment. Just spending mu time with them. Making their transition into immortality as glamorous and comfortable as possible.
According to what everyone wrote in after the publication of the photos, they said the women appeared undead. Clinically deceased yet with all the charm and effervescence they had possessed when they were living. Staring at the camera with those watery aqueous membrane, grinning with the receding gums. They were lively when I found them on the route. Put up a good fight. Fame doesn’t discriminate, though.
The camera is, in some ways, more adept than the eye. Consider that film is merely a mechanical reproduction of the process which takes place the photoreceptors of the eye. Couldn’t we amplify this process to create scenes which are more vivid, more expressive, more emotive, than those seen via normal unaided vision? That’s certainly what I’ve done. I encased them in vivid amber, engulfed them. Preserved them for centuries to come. After seeing those pictures, odds are nobody will be able to gorget them. I etched them into the public consciousness.
Every roll of film distorted the scene somehow. There’s always the minute probability of light leaking in, as well as the film grain. Really, I don’t think there is a film which can accurately depict the beautiful little still life I had set up in my living room. But I think the simulacra are fine. And I commend the papers on choosing, out go the 750 to so I submitted, the bst ones. Unlike the detectives, it seems the dear fourth estate at least has some lingering sense of scale, of pathos, of distortion.
You don’t know the half of it, do you? The mess they made in the back of my van, anging on the sides. One even put a dent in it. One-I believe it was the one with the frizzy brow hair and the turtleneck-she kicked the window in while I was dragging her across the parking lot at the side of the route, about halfway through its length. The police still haven’t found the blood from the wound I had to inflict to keep her quiet. They are messy, aren’t they?
I don’t expect you to understand, completely, the effort I put in to ensure that those hapless nocturnal pedestrians would be granted the ultimate privilege, one which I or you the manifold billions which infest this planet will never fully attain. They won the lottery.
That’s what you’re thinking. “This guy derives pressure from documenting it.” But you couldn’t be more off the mark if you tried. I get nothing out of it. I merely documented it because I felt that it had to be done. I document everything. If I hadn’t done it, all of you would have to go off of would have been those blurry, garbage stills from the police department. You have to admit to yourself, in all honesty, you wouldn’t have wanted that. It wouldn’t have been exciting. It wouldn’t have been interesting.
But the photos, and the videos, and the other trinkets which even now litter my shelves-they turn this from amber incident, a run of the mill homicide string-into an veritable sensation, a mind-grabbing spectacle. And I’m sure my journalist friends do enjoy that, even if they refuse to admit it to themselves. Their wallets are better off, thanks to my skill. You’re welcome.
It does feel good to get this off my chest. I’m not desperate for attention. I’m really not. I could care less what you think about me, whether you consider me the hero of the villain in this scenario. I know you’ve already made up your mind about me, but that doesn’t matter eater. It’s just sort of nice to jot this down while the memories of their frightened wails are still imprinted firmly in my mind. Unlike photographs, my long term memory isn’t the best ar retaining information. Soon I won’t even full recall the thrill of putting my arm around their throats within range of at least five drivers above the underpass, all of whom could have caught me in the cat. Better to experience something and forget than to never experience anything and remember it.
The route itself-prime real estate for such an endeavor. Empty, secluded, yet in the midst of such urban decay. So much foot traffic to choose from. I spent weeks scoping the area out beforehand-every pipe, every grating, each claustrophobic tank and unattended boiler room. I put the bodies back, at various randomly chose places in the city’s water system. Odds are they won’t be recovered anytime soon. All you’ll have to prove they even existed are the pictures. I’m sure of that.
So I guess this little diatribe-monologue, or what have you-is merely my way of letting you know that I’m out there, an hat I know exactly what you’re thinking. I don’t care about what you think, how you construe these events. There are forces at plat here beyond your understanding and, true, beyond even mine. These women were not taken senselessly. They serve a higher purpose, a function in the scheme of things, like entries in an algebraic equation. They are hints to an all-consuming unknown. You might not know what that blank square is yet, though in time you will. You and the rest of the greasy mob of hypocrites who litter this nation of ours, poison discourse, advocate for blind ignorance.
You enjoy being kept in the dark so much. “Oh,” you say. “They shouldn’t have published those horrid pictures.” Well, they did. And this is only the beginning. Enjoy this level of ignorance while it lasts, because the only thing more terrifying than the unknown is the known. When everything is put into stark contrast, into sharp unflinching comprehension, you’ll be screaming a thousand times harder than any of my victims or any of the oblivious readers who spotted them smiling emptily on page three.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester & Bobby Singer
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Bobby Singer
Additional Tags: Science Experiments, Sam Winchester is a Science Experiment
Summary: Applicants Wanted! Team of highly qualified grads at UM are looking for applicant. Ideally 20-35, stocky, rough build, pref. Male but female will also work given proper conditions, want spontaneity. Running through on a first come, fist served basis. WE PAY HADSOMELY! Message us on our usenet board, UMgenealogyteam, or respond below. Are on the verge of something, need quick replies and to be easy on had. Easy to work with. Get back as soon as you can, spaces filling up fast.
Applicants Wanted!
Team of highly qualified grads at UM are looking for applicant. Ideally 20-35, stocky, rough build, pref. Male but female will also work given proper conditions, want spontaneity. Running through on a first come, fist served basis. WE PAY HADSOMELY! Message us on our usenet board, UMgenealogyteam, or respond below. Are on the verge of something, need quick replies and to be easy on had. Easy to work with. Get back as soon as you can, spaces filling up fast.
~
Sam had seen the offer as an ad on the side of one of the websites he had been trolling for another case he could jump on. It was a tempting offer. After all, they were in a bit of a situation. Dean was in the hospital (again) and he was up in arms over the bill. Dean needed expensive heart medication before the doctors could even think about letting him go home. Poor bastard’s in a chair looking off into the distance as Sam looked over the website he thought that if he signed up for the experiment or whatever it was then he’ll end it and buy Dean his medication. Dean wasn’t exactly charitable most of the time but this was Sam and he gave up his career and a life in law so he figured, hey what the hell. It was worth going out and putting himself on the line.
Sam Winchester. 34. Athletic. He nearly fit the criteria. He wasn’t exactly stocky per se. He did plat some football when he was in high school. You’d be surprised at what he could do with those arms. He didn’t know how much he weighed but he was about six feet. He didn’t know if that mattered but he had to put that in there for their purposeless. As for the fitting in part, he doubted that they would have an issues. He worked well enough in team settings. He had worked with other hunters before but instead of putting that in, he just said that he worked on an unpublished study before which wasn’t a complete lie. When he was 19, he tested skin scream and he thinks that he did pretty well. They got free samples afterwards. Of course, whether he went through with it or not will ultimately depend on how much money they were talking. Sam’s heart medication would cost $700. If possible, he would also like a little extra spending cash so he could buy himself something nice.
They would discuss more when they met.
He also took a look at their board. It was pretty sophisticated for some college website. It looked like they got some really good funding. He posted the same thing on there so they’d be sure to see. He’d be available Tuesday through Saturday but he would be sure to have his phone on him at all times so he didn’t miss their call. He posted his number to the board and looked forward to whatever they got. He was pretty confident that he could handle it. He needed to.
Sam waited for the people to get back to him, continually refreshing his email in waiting for the answer to his post on the board. He didn’t know why he was waiting for an immediate response from whoever was running the study. There was probably hundreds of applicants, right? Sam idely opened up the email once more as Sam’s heart monitor beeped in the background. The hospital wifi was slower than any motel wifi he had been on before. But he had a bit of a wait anywhere. No use in complaining about it since they could never really think all too much about getting an actual house.
Hey there Sam,
Great news! Our team has taken a look at your background and you check out. We’re also sorry to hear about your brother’s heart condition. These days, it seems like everyone is dying of some sort of disease. We hope we can help you. $700 is easily within our range given the amount of endurance and dedication this study will required. Come over on Saturday. We’re in the Fielder building on the second floor. If you have trouble finding it, our receptionist can help you out.
We think given the description you provided you’ll work. But we need you to report for a quick interview and subsequent physical examination. Don’t worry too much, we’ve done this with all the applicants. The process will be quick.
We can’t wait to meet you.
~
At least the receptionist was nice and the staff was friendly. It helped ease the anxiety Sam had about leaving the hospital. The upfront payment was nice. The process was easy and he couldn’t believe that it was over. Anyways, he was going to have to report to the form every day. Not sure how the board will work. But if they had a problem with him jotting down the effects there, then they could say so and he could record them in his notes or something. He was going through the checklist they gave him on the way home and he’s looking it over. All of the paperwork was pretty long but he thought he would be able to get through it. If not, he would have one of his old friends look over it who might be able to sort through most of it.
▲
9
Their techniques seemed remarkably advanced. He took only chem and biology in 11th grade but he had been reading up on the whole cloning thing lately and it did interest him. They cloned that sheep and there are pictures of her and everything. Pretty soon you could get people cloned. Not to say that’s appealing or anything. But he would be lying if he saw the prospect of having a smaller Sam around to do chores or whatever wasn’t kind of near. It was nice that they had people going research on that. It would put Minneapolis on the map if they were able to do something like that or had any sort of breakthrough. He hoped that the other applicants were doing well. He decided to take the medication after every meal he ate at the hospital since the packet mentioned that the results could be corrupted without nutrients.
Tonight, he was going to eat some steak and asparagus then have ice cream for desert. After that he would head back to Sam’s room, take the dose and go to sleep. He needed lots of energy for the next day. Hopefully none of this will do anything.
The facility he visited that day had some neat equipment. He especially like that processor they had. Looked top-of-the-line. He guessed that you needed that when the field was genetics. To process all of those base pairs and helixes or whatever they were called. Amazing that way down we’re just lines of code. If he looked down the the cellar level. All those cytoplasms and alleles working in harmony. It’s like a little factory down there.
The tour he had been given after the procedure had convinced him that maybe he should think of attending MU when it was all over (if it ever asl all over). He’d been putting it off. Getting that law degree but maybe college was what he was supposed to do after all. The campus was nice. Good sun and lots of areas for studying. He’d have to look into tuition and if there are any scholarships. He had gotten a full ride to Stanford after all. Maybe the students could refer him to the eligibility board or whatever.
Anyways, that was all he had for the night. He would report again if anything happened tomorrow. The payment upfront helped pay for the medication and part of the hospital stay.
~
He took he dose like the packet said with a dose of water. He reclined in the hospital chair and watched from TV for about an hour. The Pretender was on and it was the season finale and he didn’t mind watching it. He knew the packet said to go to sleep immediately but one hour of TV wouldn’t hurt. He had a dream where he was in a glass building looking up at the sky. Then he woke up around 7am. As of him writing down his recollection of the day, it was nearly 6pm. Dinner tonight was going to be pizza and a 2 liter of Sprite then another dose. He might go down to the cafeteria and get a side salad. He had been tracking the calories like the sheet said and would probably add it up.
He thought he should mention something that happened that day. Sundays, he usually went out for a walk, not really to do anything other than just walk. He couldn’t actually do anything for fun but that since they were currently so stopped for cash. Some days, he would scrounge for change and get on a bus to head downtown and window shop. All that to say that when he got to this one display, he though they had a stereo in the window, and he was looking at it for a few minutes when he noticed his reflection in the glass. It was kind of like his eyes were focused on the setup and then they snapped back and he saw himself, absent minded.
Something about how he looked didn’t look right. He couldn’t place it. It wasn’t anything physical but it was subtle. If he wasn’t being specific, he apologizes. It was hot out and the sun was bearing down on him. Maybe he was suffering from a heat stroke although he doubted it because he didn’t feel at all hot. His selection was wrong somehow. For a second, he wondered if it was actually him he was looking at. Then everything became clearer in his field of vision. He looked himself over and he was fine. The street was how it had been. The stereo set was right there and his reflection was okay. But there was something disturbing about seeing himself like that. He couldn’t say for sure how it was wrong. Couldn’t put his finger on it. Maybe something about his eyes.
He walked around for an hour or so, looked in more windows and nothing was there either. Then he got back to the hospital and watched TV for about two hours. But this point it was getting to be evening so he hopped in the hospital showers and tried to relax. Nothing else had happened so far. Could be completely unrelated to the substance. Might be an illusion like he said. Not sure how that could happen, though. Given what they had described, he doubted that it would effect his mental state.
It was about fifteen minutes until the pizza guy said he would be there. But he usually ran at least ten minutes late. It was getting dark outside and he was getting tired. A couple of minutes ago, he called Bobby. He had a lot of things to do over at his place so he hadn’t had a chance to go over to see him much. It seemed like he was always busy and only had a few minutes to talk to Sam over the phone. He wouldn’t want to disturb Bobby and he’s great. He still had five pages of the paperwork to go over. He might pull it off because it looked so complex. He wasn’t sure, really. If he does, he’d be sure to get it in before the deadline. He figured making the entries he posted to the board more effort. He enjoyed it though. He wondered how the lab work was going. There were a lot of genetic diseases that were even worse than the pathogenic ones. There weren’t any cures that he knew of. If you have one, you just have to live with it for the rest of your life because there aren’t any external factors. The disease is programmed into cell in your body, each and every square inch of you is targeted. He knew that the lab knew all of that but it was a disturbing thought.
~
Dean was looking a lot better lately. They got pretty much everything taken care of as far as his heart went. The insurance fraud they pulled off covered all of his treatment but the medication was where it stopped. The doctors were joking at the desk about betting who in the ward was going to die first. It made Sam sick listening to that kind of thing. Doctors shouldn’t be talking like that. Especially where parents and relatives can hear.
He had accidentally brought some of the substance along. It was sticking out of his pocket.
“What’s this,” Dean asked, pulling at it.
“Just something I’m taking,” Sam responded. “It’s supposed to benefit me somehow. Something to do with something called Chromatin.”
Dean leaned back in his bead, pressed the button on the side and it made it’s noise, “Is it illegal?”
Sam told him no. That it was officially sanctioned and Sade. He sighed, put his hands behind his head and that was about the end of that conversation. In three days he would be discharged and they would spend the night in a motel before getting the hell out of dodge before their scheme got found out.
After the lunch he had at the hospital (he had also been keeping track of lunch and breakfast). Today for lunch he had a burger and salad. Today’s breakfast was cereal and yogurt. Yesterday, he thought that lunch was a leftover Caron of Chinese food in the mini fridge. Breakfast was orange juice and some offs. Day before that it was a casserole and he didn’t have any breakfast that day. Don’t worry. It all added up to the correct amounts. He’d done the math and he thought it should be fine.
He’d been watching a lot of TV to pass the time. One thing he was starting to notice was that he’ll sit down, turn the TV on and it’ll be a show he was interested in watching but before he knew it, the show will be over. It wasn’t as if he forgot what happened , it’s more like time sped up and he didn’t notice. For some reason that only happened when he was watching TV. The end credits will be on and he’ll feel like he just watched the theme song but somehoww he remembered everything that happened during the episode. If he was just doing off then he wouldn’t know what happened. This had never happened to him before so he thought it was related to the substance. It felt like a time warp. The first few times it happened to him, he was worried but not he had kind of gotten used to it. He kind of liked it. If he didn’t like show, he could tune our the the next thing he knew, it was over. Kind of cool.
Anyways, lasagna was for dinner that night. There are some really good recipes at the hospital if you were there long enough. He’d take his does after that. Then he’d probably try out the new TV thing for a whole, maybe an hour or two, then hit the sack. He was tired.
~
He woke to a barrage of messages on his answering machine. A lot of them were from Bobby. As he said, Bobby was very busy so his voice was upset and he had a hostile tone. He asked about Sam, how he was doing, if he was going anywhere, and why he had heard from Dean and not Sam in so long. As if it’s his fault that he always has something to do. It’s no wonder they rarely spent any time together. He didn’t think that Bobby was on the road or anything like that. But given how little time he had talked to Sam, he suspected that he had gone on the road to find someone. Anyway, that wasn’t the best thing to wake up to. After that, Sam stood from the chair. The room as empty and the shelves were covered in dust…for some odd reason. The imprint of Dean was still on the bed. Some of the food in the fridge had gone bad.. Probably a power outage. He threw it away. The lasagna from last night was good. He added some dill.
For breakfast he had dry cornflakes. The milk had gone bad. Also an orange. After that, he put on his coat and went for a walk. It was nice out. He walked for around two hours, just admiring the architecture. After that he walked around the city center for a while. He remembered going to it a few times while Dean was in the hospital. It was a lot more modern than any of the other cities and towns Sam and Dean had been in. Times were changing as they say. He got a turkey sandwich at the food court of some mall and a mango smoothing then sat down on a bench, watching the people go by. The cashier looked at him weird when he requested how many calories they were. It was a perfectly reasonably question with the diet craze going on these days, everyone has a right to know how much they were Martin. Anyway, he stared out for a while, looking at all the shops.
He noticed a shop that he hadn’t seen in the weeks he had spent in town. It was a coffee shop. He had been to the center about a week ago and it hadn’t been there. There had been a boutique instead. The speed in which they renovate these things is pretty amazing. He imagined it took a huge team to fix everything up and turn it all inside out. He threw his sandwich away and by the time he got to the doors, it was already closing time. When he went in, it was only around three but he stepped out and the security guard waved goodbye and it was night. He guessed he must have lost track of time. Or maybe it was later than he thought when he got to the city center. But either way that wasn’t very good for the purposes of the records he was writing. He’d assume they’d keep them for their studies and they’d need accurate information. By the time he got to the motel he and Dean were supposed to meet at when he got out (which he assumed he did by the dent in his hospital bed) it was midnight. He had checked the clock when he came in.
As he was writing up the record of the day, it was fifteen past. He was going to order a pizza then pass out. So far nothing has happened except those occasional moments of him completely spazzing out. He still remembers everything though…in some weird way. He couldn’t explain it any more than that. He hoped it satisfied those who were in charge of this whole study enough to know more than less.
~
Dean’s funeral was today.
When he left the hospital, he was apparently recovering but now he’s being buried. He attended the funeral and Bobby called him and told him that he better show up or there would be consequences. He had no idea what they were talking about. Then he checked the computer’s internal clock. It’s September. Monitors don’t lie. September. When he went to sleep last night it was May. May!. He felt like hell. His stomach was a mess from malnutrition and when he looked the mirror and he looked old. If you think smoking can turn you inside out, talk about prolonged periods of unconsciousness.
He’d finally realized how it was. You know how you got to sleep, you start dreaming and the dream is incredibly vivid, right down to the last detail then you wake up and can’t remember any of it? Only you should be able to remember it. It was right there in your brain a second ago. It was such a real experience that it should register in your memory. Only it doesn’t. That’s how these prolonged blackouts are. He remember them vaguely. Remember eating as well as he could. Remembered shuffling around the house. Remembered going outside maybe once a week to keep his legs active. But the whole time he wasn’t himself. He was someone else. Acting on commands, basic Moto functions to keep his systems running. He might have taken a bath. Now those months were one giant blur and he’d snapped back to complete awareness. The feeling resembles being shot with a gun.
And of course Bobby is not answer any of his calls any more. He called him and he told Sam to fuck off. To never call again. That they were over. That the Winchesters were nothing but trouble and were the death of him. It sucked, though. To know there was nothing that he could do about it. He says that he came over to see him once. That his eyes were glazed over and he was sitting on the couch mumbling something to himself. The food in the kitchen was, of course, rotten according to Bobby. The furniture was dusty and he left after maybe five minutes. He probably thought he was a demon blood addict again. That he somehow found someone to feed off of. Maybe he ate some of the food while he was out. In this state, there’s no way he could tell the difference between something that’s rotten and something that’s not. It could account for his malnutrition.
He didn’t know if the study was even still going on but he wasn’t going to take any more doses. Hell, it was probably over. The semester started already and it was too late for him to enroll and if he did, he’d probably be terrified. He was going straight. He missed enough of his life already. To see his brother’s empty casket defend into the cold Earth, knowing that for the last four months he was living a pleasant life and that he could have gone over to visit him one last time if it wasn’t for this shit is enough to convince him to give it up and they better not ask for their money back either. It was all gone. He guessed he had been paying the rent while he was ‘away’.
~
San had been like this for almost two years at this point. He didn’t take a dose last night, or should he say two years ago. How much of that time was spent comatose sitting around, he didn’t know. He better get out the disinfectant wipes from the closet. Wipe down all the furniture down before night falls. Because when he sleeps, the world completes entire rotations, time gets distorted, doesn’t it?
He called his friends and they had completely disowned him but now. They talked about him like he was dead. Their friend who had left them all those years ago and never drops by to visit. Just vanished one day and never came back. The motel tried to kick him out. That his room and the stench coming from the decay is lowering the value of the property. Greedy prick.
He didn’t know what to say anymore. That shit had ruins his system so that he could go into the deep whether he should take it to not. It’s rewritten him from the ground up like a typewriter and he can’t stop it. It was four in the morning and he was going to stay up as long as he can because while he’s here, he has time to do things, fix things, go around and try to repair the damage. He had been filling the cracks all night, repainting, washing. He threw away the old food. He ordered a pizza and it tasted delicious but it’s a different guy now and they’ve changed their recipe. He ate it like a pig then took a bath. He didn’t know how often he did that and his teeth were starting to hurt. He also ordered a month’s worth of groceries to be delivered sometime the next day. He couldn’t place his confidence in his subconscious because he couldn’t take care of him as well as his normal mind. He couldn’t do everything he could. No matter what the New Age gurus said.
If anyone was reading this, or hell even if someone from the Fielder ream read it, he just needed someone to know that he was trying. There must have been gone wrong. The calories or exercise or something. If someone knew what to do, he needed some help. He needed to find something. He’d been stating at the screen and trying to stay awake, reciting things in his head because once he slipped, he couldn’t get out of it. It’ll be over him again and at this point who knows what the next time will be? Three years, five, he wakes up and everyone has tubes in their the
~
Well, there’s a new president, no one of note. He went to campus and spent the day walking. When he got there it was hot and there were people around. So many people. He hadn’t seen this many people in a long time. It was strange talking and seeing and they avoided him because of course who wouldn’t? Talking around and knowing what was up and then get to the building. No building there. It was gone. They packed up and left, Hugh? Asked it, asked guide, saidd it was out, had been moved, was gone and he figured that they had all graduated and were now winning Nobel prizes under shiny spotlights. Well can’t ignore him, can them? Can they ignore this face, sunken eyes, stomach ready to collapse?
Just nothing but a bare field. A bare lot noe. Some people talking on it. Maybe never existed whose to say he’s crazy and it was all a dream. Babblings of an insane person. Don’t mind him. His head was about to explode. House is such a mess. God damn.
It was kind of poetic now that he’s loose from time. He can go forward and the surprises never stop. A passenger on voyage to the end of time. Last Redoubt loomed large overhead. Black monolith in that endless night. Walk towards the Black Hills there’re seven lights. No one knows what they are but he’ll see them soon enough and Minna will be a cuter of fire. Things engulfed as he kept going on and no stopping now. Because why would there?
Police will come throw him into a cell and won’t care about it. Hell sit and look out through bars, eyes glazed over embalmer’s glue.
Next stop infinity.
~
Sam now wrote from a public library. He can’t remember shit except for the password to that damned forum. That goddamned forum was still up and he was gonna update as long as it was up.
A/N: Don't forget to drop a like on this story if you liked it and reblog it if you really liked it.
Summary: Hound Dog, Ectoplasm, and Gang Orca spend a day at the beach on one of their rare days off.
Let’s be perfectly honest here, Ryo was not the kind of person you wanted to encounter when he was already teetering the edge between angry and absolutely feral. But it was just the kind of thing some people thrived off of. Especially Ectoplasm. The two of them were close enough to lean on each other whenever children were all too scared by them. Really, Ryo was a nice guy and so was Kugo. The two of them really loved kids but all three of them were… not the greatest looking to be hanging out around kids but actual teenagers were a lot better.
“Hey, did I tell you the aquarium asked me to come again,” Kugo put a bit of suntan lotion on his skin as he laid back on the beach. “What a bunch of idiots.”
“Come on, you should do it. Only one kid cried last time you were there.”
“One more than I would have liked,” Kugo turned over onto his back so his next words were a bit more muffled. “I don’t get why they like crying.”
“It’s those eyes,” Ryo turned his head to face the two of them. “It’s all in the eyes and for you there, it’s in the teeth. Why do you have such sharp teeth?”
“I didn’t ask to be born with chompers and neither did you!” Ectoplasm took great offense to having his teeth being pointed out.
“At least my chompers are a part of my whole thing,” Ryo sat back on the sand. “You know, dog. Kids like dogs.”
“Yeah, but they do not like six foot five, two-legged dog who forgets human speech when he’s angry,” Ectoplasm rolled over onto his back to the sun that part of his body for a better tan. Not like anyone would see it. None of his students ever saw him out of costume. “You’re the scariest one of us all.”
“But I’m a dog,” Ryo gestured to himself. “Kids love dogs.”
“And kids love whales,” Kugo rubbed his temples. “Some kids love whales and I am the coolest whale out there.”
“See, therein lies the problem. Not every kid is going to love whales or fish or the aquarium, you are not a universally adored person or animal for that fact. You are an apex predator which is why kids are scared of you. I am a dog-,”
“Decedents of predators,” Ectoplasm lifted his arm up and placed it down onto the sand with a thud and a puff of sand. “You’re both just as bad so you might as well just give up debating this. Let’s not end up scaring more kids than we already have.”
“What you’re saying is that we should give up trying to get ourselves out of the mess that we were born into and just relax.”
There weren’t many days in which Ectoplasm and Ryo had the day off. Especially after the heroics that 1-A had pulled over the past year. There was barely anything that they could do without getting in trouble which cut into Ectoplasm’s precious karaoke time. The three of them had argued all too much about what they were going to do with their precious time out of class. Even the beach seemed like a bad idea at this point. No one was going to want to come to the beach with them there. Ryo barely even touched the water. Not like he didn’t like the water but because Ectoplasm would have complained about the smell of wet dog. Not like he couldn’t help it. Kugo had barely touched the water and they’d been there for nearly three hours at that point. Even Ectoplasm hadn’t even gotten into the water which is the only reason he came.
Ectoplasm reached up and made grabby hands at no one, “Water.”
“Water?” Kugo turned his head towards Ectoplasm. “What are you, five?”
“Put me in the water!”
“What’s stopping you from doing it yourself?” Ryo jumped back into the conversation. His eyes scanned back over Ectoplasm as if there was something he was forgetting. “Right.”
“Oh fuck,” Kugo scooted over to Ectoplasm’s side and lifted him up without saying a word which normally would have earned an objection from Ectoplasm but he wasn’t going to have his husband keep asking when it was easier to just do. “You’re gonna need to get some new legs.”
“On what pay, number twelve hero?”
“I would be higher if kids weren’t afraid of me, damn kids,” Gang Orca mumbled to himself.
While they were paid well they weren’t exactly the richest heroes on the planet and they did have to pay for any additional legs that weren’t the main pair he used for walking and the ones he used for hero work. It’s not like they were in need of them when they rarely made their way to the beach in the first place.
“It’s a nice day, don’t you think?”
Kugo waltzed into the water and took them to a point where the water caressed Ectoplasm’s back. He tilted his face towards the sun much as his husband did. Ectoplasm shielded his eyes from the sun by closing them. The two of them soaked up the sun for a few moments before Ectoplasm opened his eyes and looked at the face of the man whom he had married all those years ago. The day they met was still a source of pride for Ryo as he had been the one to introduce them. But there wasn’t a time in which he didn’t bring it up when he was introducing the two husbands.
How much longer until they got a day like that? A day where the worry of having his students attacked was not at the back of his brain but somewhere in the middle. Most school years had gone without a hitch and this was going to turn out to be one of the worst school years that he had seen in the history of his teaching. But for now, he was going to soak up the sun and let himself relax.
Additional Tags: Drug Use, Recreational Drug Use, Bad Therapy Practices, Cults, Alien Cult, Commune, Alien Cult Commune, Body Horror, Mention of No Eyes
Summary: When Bakugo offers Izuku a once in a lifetime chance to leave everything behind, he has no reservations about leaving. But...leaving has consequences. Some that he can't take back.
Deku was only seventeen when he was ‘spiritually’ awakened. When his eyes were opened to the cosmos and he knew there would be no going back. No returning to the way things had been. It had been the early spring in the year before his second year and he had been fighting with All Might-who like many residents of Shizuoka Prefecture were firmly ingrained in the social issues of the day. They kept their TVs on for constant news updates and subscribed to the large city newspapers for actuate, up-to-the-minute information on the situation with Stain, which seemed, to Deku at least, to be unfolding now more than ever. He wanted a way out. An exit from the bloodshed and the dirty looks his mother fave him over the dinner table which was now only a place of silent contemplation. Far from the home he had known in his youth. All Might now fave him hour-long lectures on which clothes to buy and how to put his hair up to keep as much skin covered as possible in case of an attack all while his mother idly knitted and gazed out the window so as to avoid the raging domestic turbulence.
Deku often snapped back at All Might during these disputes. Just as often marched up to his room and locked him out. He would sit and gaze at the quiet suburban night and leave them to brood downstairs. With the school year out, he had little to do in the mornings other than sit on the porch and observe the banal activity of Shizuoka over the rose pink banister. He had insufferably idle hands.
So it was that after one such disagreement, he had walked out onto the porch to gather his thoughts and catch some fresh air while in the lit room behind his shoulder All Might had stuck his hands into his pockets and given up. He had walked out onto the lawn and felt the cool blade of grass as down the block a lonely pickup truck rounded the corner and out of sight. One by one the lights in the houses across the street were extinguished.
He noticed Bakugo standing by the hedge and staring up at the constellations which in Shizuoka were fare more visible than they ever were in other prefectures. Even with so much light pollution. Without saying a word Deku put his arm around him and they remained like that for several minutes silent until Bakugo rated his arm and pointed.
“That one there is called Antares,” he said. Deku squinted and noted a bright red dot at the edge of Bakugo’s fingertip.
They started walking to the south with no particular destination in mind. Deku wondered what Bakugo was doing up this late. He was wearing his best shoes and his hair was combed over. A light breeze from the northeast consumed them both as they walked further and further away from Deku’s house which he knew he wanted to get far away from, and fast. There was something convenient about Bakugo showing up right then and there. Any port in a storm, he reckoned. They made their way to the end of the block which opened onto a vast expanse of quiet fields lined by trees which swayed and vibrated ever so slightly beneath the pale present moon. Bakugo took his hand and guided him along a rough path through the tall sheath and the street lamps of Shizuokafaded behind them as they wandered on.
The approached a barn which appeared empty. Isolated from anything else by miles of land. Old and rustic and broken down. They both entered. He grasped the rungs of the old ladder and made her way up to the hayloft. The hay, though ancient, glistened in the warm summer ambiance. Bakugo swung himself over the precipice until they were both nestled in the cool mulch. A symphony of grasshoppers encircled the place.
“I shouldn’t be out here,” Deku said, hesitant. “My mom will know.”
Bakugo raised a finger to his lips then Deku’s. He retrieved frothing from his pocket. It was a small cloth satchel and a lighter and he opened the strings of the satchel up and poured a substance that smelled like old hickory onto his palm. He offered Deku some and he accepted it. He held the flame to it and it erupted and then he shoed him how to inhale the fumes. He tilted Deku’s head back to insure the processes was performed just so.
As he inhaled the world fell away and the roof of the barn became transparent and he rose, levitating above the barn. As did Bakugo who floated fifty feet into the night sky into that vast sea of starlight. He used his arms to swim into the void and soon the ground below become transparent. They were suspended in midair with nothing but constellation and the flaming sun and the cold vacuum of space. Bakugo brushed Deku’s hair out of his eyes and they held hands there. Awestruck in wonder. The planters rotated and the moon behind them went through all its phases in thirty seconds.
And then, they were back in the loft. Deku took a deep breath, unsure of what to say. Net to him, Bakugo reclined. His hands interlocked behind his head and he looked over at Deki and grinned. Deku picked up one lone strand of straw and twirled it between his fingers, thinking about what it was they both just witnessed.
“It’s okay, Deku,” he said. “You needed that. I can tell. Been playing it safe all these years, never on the edge then to always being on the edge. You need new experiences, new things in life. I get it.”
They both sat up and gathered their bearings and leaned against the rear wall.
“I like the simple things,” Deku said. “Living her and now. In the present. With you. We don’t need that stuff. We don’t need to overstimulate our brains to subtract from the experience. I’ll always remember this exact moment in time, bakugo.”
With that, he gently plucked the satchel from Bakugo’s grasp and tossed it out the window. It sailed like a parachute and nestled itself in the scrub. They embraced.
They fell asleep sometime after that. In the morning Bakugo told him about a group of people who thought as they did. Who lived a few towns over on the outskirts. He said he had been there. That was where he had acquired that stuff. He had witnessed unparalleled sights and wonders of the new age. That if Deku wanted, he could leave Shizuoka behind and start a new life with him.
Thirty minutes later, they had long since departed from the barn and they caught a ride on a train and Deku saw Shizuoka become nothing more than a speck on the horizon before even the last vestiges of it became little more than a phantom recollection. He was here, in the immediate present, the thundering clatter of the wheels and spokes and Bakugo was bracing himself against the wall so as to not fall over as the train sped along toward some faraway utopia in the golden dawn.
The place Bakugo had mentioned was located at what appeared to be an old cattle ranch. Fenced in at all sides. People milled about in the noontime hear. All wearing light flower shirts and necklaces with multicolored beads. Deku had never seen so many people so busy before. Engaged in activities which seemed to him to be productive and fulfilling.
One woman was plucking fresh greens from what appeared to be communal garden. A young boy was tossing grain into a chicken coop. An old man walked around singing a folk ballad on an acoustic guitar. Bakugo introduced Deku, one by one, to most of them. They instantly took a liking to him. They told him that as long as he put some work in the fields and contributed something of valuee to the community then he was welcome to stay.
Within a week, he had acclimated to his new surroundings surprisingly well and he spend every day from dusk until dawn plucking carrots from the rich mineral soul and having long conversations with the commune’s inhabitants. Oftentimes a bonfire would be lit in the center of the grounds. They would sit in formation around the licking flames and rising embers, eyes aglow with the powder that smelled like old hickory and the promise of a new period of enlightenment and untapped potential.
Deku knew the place and was at all times in the here and now. The immediate present. Tuned in and not necessarily tuned out. Bakugo was there to guide him every step of the way. An anchor to the life he had departed. An ache of stability as those new processes and practices became routine. He did as he was told. Anything to reconnect with the world. To forget the atrocities he had witnessed.
And after two weeks, at precisely eight at night, Bakugo took him into a room he had never been in before. Located near the rear of the property. They sat down opposite of each other in wooden chairs and they were only visible to each other by candle light. Only the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner could be heard. Bakugo stared at him. His head nested between his index finger and thumb as if were trying to make sense of Deku. Then he lit another candle, a larger one, and set it on the coffee table between them.
“What’s this about,” he asked.
“It’s something we do here,” Bakugo said. “I started a couple days ago. They told me you need to start. The sooner we start, the better.”
“I’m game,” he replied. “What is it we’re supposed to do in here?”
“You tell me your feelings,” Bakugo explained. “Your desires, your wants and needs. Anything that pops into your head, really. Like that word association game. Except with instead of words, just a stream of consciousness. Anything at all. Start.”
When he said that, Deku’s mouth opened and the words came out of him like a snake. They could and emanated from her. He started slowly at first but like the thundering train that had brought them to this place they gained speed and clarity. The means with which he communicated and improved in the first five minutes alone. Bakugo sat, contemplative.
In that hour he said more than he ever had. Talked about his aspirations and dreams. Of his past and future. Droned on about his preoccupations, his hang-ups, his hobbies. It was refreshing. This form of psychotherapy and though Bakugo wasn’t a license psychiatrist as far as he knew it was good to get some of those things odd his chest. If at least for the time being. A weight had been lifted. When the hour was up, Deku heard a faint click from somewhere behind him and Bakugo immediately rose to his feet and whisked Deku outside.
“That was fantastic,” he exclaimed. “I really felt like-,” but Bakugo held a finger up to his lips and brushed his hair back and escorted her back to his room.
“Tomorrow,” he said. “Save it for tomorrow.”
And he did. Every day at precisely eight once the plating and harvesting and watering had been executed in a satisfactory manner, they would go in that room and he would open his heart to Bakugo-who sat, legs crossed, merely listening to him and he thought he really cared. That he had really did enjoy listening to him. That he had important things to say and all that mattered was that they reached his ears.
He told him about his grandfather’s funeral and how it had felt to see his casket lowered. He talked at length about the intricacies of hero work. About how he had scoured the library for magazine articles about how the how the laws were formulated. About his subsequent passion for the work that they did. About how it felt to live in Shizuoka where nothing ever really changed. Time seemed to hang still and in perpetuity and how things had sped up since moving to the commune. How int these whirlwind days every single moment was spent doing something genuinely fulfilling. Then came the faint noise from behind the wooden chair she sat in. Bakugo would escort him out, thank him and he would sleep. All to repeat it all the next day.
He wondered how Bakugo was able to absorb all this information so effortlessly. That given all the thoughts he poured onto him, he must have had a truly expansive and stunning intellect. One with reminds store capacity. As the days grew into weeks, however, he notices that during their evening sessions, Bakugo was even talkative. More removed and distant, Still he pressed on. He revealed intimate details about him personal life. Things he probably wouldn’t have told him even if they were properly married. Things he had only real considered late at night on the thing line between awareness and slumber. He assumed that eventually, they would run out of things to discuss. That his knowledge of the world would be tapped. But strangely this never came to fruition.
After a long day malign the cows and feeding the chickens, and pulling up turnips and cilantro, conversation was really the only form of entertainment to be had here. The people were friendly but they knew less than Deku, or Bakugo for that matter-they were simple country folk, many of them without proper education, and had lived here for a decade or more. Sometimes he caught them throwing wary glances in his direction.
By the time May rolled around, he was tied and overworked. The initial satisfaction from the garden and stables had been replaced by a kind of dull monotony. When the hickory stuff was exchanged around in the evening Deku politely declined. Even if he did take the stuff, it certainly wouldn’t fix his mood. He was bored out of his head.
Deku began to wonder if leaving Shizuoka had been the best choice. Sometimes, on clear nights when the mon was less pronounced, obscured by cirrus close, he thought he could just make out the sparkling glitter of Shizuoka somewhere to the East. He wondered what his mon was up to. Whether they had informed the police. What his mother assumed happened to him. Then as quickly as those thoughts came, they were gone, and he was in the immediate present. The here and now. The substantive.
In the evenings came the candlelight sessions with the stream-of-consciousness thought. The unfurling ribbon of language that she expunged effortlessly. Bakugo’s eyes were shrouded in darkness. He fancied he looked like a music fortune-teller he had seen on a movie poster once, and told him as much when the idea arose in his mind. He said nothing. He remained perfectly quiet and allowed him to proceed. The subject soon changed from fortune tellers to predetermination to the concept of fate vs. free will, and Bakugo merely stared at her as he went on and on, construction elaborate prose in his head.
He wondered what exactly this process accomplished. Given how Bakugo rarely displayed signs of enjoyment. It was, on some level, a form of therapy. A release of emotions. An exodus of tension from the system. It was helpful to have someone to talk to and confide secrets in. It was likely for his own good, he thought. Merely a new way of mapping the mind.
The commune was vast. It covered multiple acres. Much of it farmland. Despite open access to many of the fields, there was one area he was forbidden from entering. A large shed with a padlock on the door near his room. Sometimes when it was very late he would catch brief glimpses of people entering and exiting, but they all had keys and he didn’t have any key. He assumed it was some sort of storage shed with food and tools and other basic utilities and that in all honesty she was probably too young to distribute those items fairly.
The pace of life here was dedicated exclusively to the direct observation of the immediate. There was very little discussion of the future, or the past, and Stain and the League of Villains was only mentioned within the context of something else. These people-vagabond and rascals all-were so attuned with the sensibilities of the climate. Deku, being a history buff, could hardly understand the preoccupation with chasing rends and fads. He dons some of the contemporary styles silly, and mentioned as much ro Bakugo during their sessions. He said nothing.
He wanted to know what was in the shed. Night after night, he awakens light filtering into his window. But the shed remained locked during the day. He was under the watchful eye of the commune’s residents and all he had the energy to do was pick vegetable and fall into a long, unbroken slumber awakening to the rooster’s cheerful crow.
One night in June, while they were on their way to the session room, he asked bakugo what was kept in the shed. It held some sort of magnetic spell over him. He obsessed over it every day and the fact that everyone else could enter and he couldn’t had been gnawing at him.
“Don’t worry about it,” was all he said and he stopped holding Bakugo’s hand. Hr had changed somehow since their arrival. His hair was now coated in direct and he wore a scowl more than usual. A reminder that, perhaps, he had outgrown his former self. That the blissful Shizuoka innocence had been washed out of him like dye from wool. Now that he leaned back in the wooden chair, and Deku heard the faint click from the reverberant chamber, Bakugo’s sunken sockets resembled not those of a clairvoyant but those of a deathly pale skull.
He told himself the first week of June that he was only imaging this sudden darkness that had set in. That it was alright and that, if he wanted to, he could leave the commune and return to his family. That there would be few repercussions. He could even tell them about Bakugo. Have him sent to prison on charges of abduction. Take away any chance of being a hero. But no. He had to stay there. That was the long and short of it. He had to know what was in that shed before he could even consider leaving.
Something else struck him. None of the other people seemed to undergo the sessions. Surely they would need to apply them to each other, yet when he and Bakugo were holed up in the inner sanctum. The chamber of revelations. Most of the inhibitants were still sitting around the central bonfire. Their faces aglow with dry timber.
On the tenth of the month, after a particularly long session, he said goodbye to Bakugo outside the door and went into his room. He looked outside and it seemed Bakugo had also left. There were only the buildings and the shadows cast by their doors and the cold gravel path leading to that mystery of mysteries. He wore heavy boots and stepped outside into the warm summer hear. Boots which could kick the door in.
He applied a massive amount of force to the hinge. More force than he reckoned he was capable of producing. It swung open and the lock clattered onto the ground. He grasped and stepped inside and began whiling around. Twisting his head from one extreme to the other. To be sure what he was seeing was actually what was there.
Shelves and shelves of compact cassette tapes.
More cassette tapes then Deku thought there would be in the world. An incomprehensible amount. Hundred of thousands of millions of feet of ferric oxide tape. There were no farming implements. No shovels. No compost. Just bare metal shelves bursting forward with stacks and rows and heaps of cassette tapes.
And in the back of the room was a shrine composed of several television sets sticks atop one another. Cords and tangle wires running down the front. All turned on and all broadcasting something different. On one, some sort of Soviet meeting with men grinning at each other. On another, a baseball game. On yet another, a weekday sitcom. The haphazard arrangement of those electronic prisms was shocking and bizarre and entirely out of place for a rural commune much less one which didn’t have any indication of a power supply.
In weeks prior, he had used no electricity. There was no phone. No radio. Not even battery powered devices. Yet here was this unholy temple which stood against everything he had thought the commune was for. While these people advocated for a return to the land. They had nonetheless indulged in some sort of technical hedonism. A freakish obsession with these broadcasts. Perhaps an insatiable desire to reconnect with the outside world. But why multiple television sets? Why all these cassettes?
He spotted a tape deck on a small desk near the front. With trembling fingers, he grabbed one of the tapes, knocking out five of their cases and inserted it into the plater. He hit the button and put on the headphones and was alarmed to hear her own voice over the omniscient tape hiss. His own dialogue as he told Bakugo of the first time he had seen him at school.
And then he was interrupted by Bakugo in the present. Bakugo in the her and now. This altered Bakugo who stood silhouetted in the frame of the kicked-in, leaving casually against the post and staring at him with that unseen visage. He tried to scream but Bakugo raced forwards and clasped a hand over his mouth and removed the headphones, gingerly setting them down on the table. He sat down with her, making motions as if to calm him down.
“You should have done this, Deku,” he said with a flat, lifeless tone. “I’ll have to tell them what you’ve done. We’ll have to fix that lock.”
Deku chocked back unhinged sobs through his unwashed fingers and shoved him away. He crashed against the shelf and a whole barrage of Deku’s voice landed on his head.
“I shouldn’t have done this,” he shrieked, no caring if they heard. “What have you done? Bakugo, those were private things I told yo. Things I didn’t man for anyone else to hear. Things I thought were special. Just between you and I. You can’t record someone without their consent, Bakugo. For fuck’s sake! It just isn’t ethical!”
Bakugo rubbed his head, got up and Deku failed to scream as bakugo retrieved a switchblade from his shirt pocket and held it to his throat, grinning with a sort of manic disposition. In that moment-as the steel of the dime-store apparatus grazed the flesh of Deku’s neck and Bakugo’s sunken eyes grew even more old, calculated and distant, Deku saw the true face of evil. It had been with him all along.
Bakugo grabbed some duct tape from an unseen nook in the shelf and methodically adhered her to the cold concrete floor, the pointed at the array of television sets as If they would somehow explain what he had done. How he had lied to Deku. How he had manipulated him. How Bakugo had now threatened his life and his sanity.
“I knew you wouldn’t understand, Deku,” he seethed. “What we were trying to do here. That’s why I didn’t tell you. Because it’s beyond your grasp. Hell, it’s beyond my grasp. It’s something none of us truly understand yet.”
“What we’re trying to do,” he continued, “is build an archive. A collection of information, of knowledge. The trouble is, see, these people aren’t that smart. So they asked me, they said, ‘Bakugo, if you can get that seat guy down here we’d be much obliged’. And I did, Deku. I did. And your every thought-your every sentiment and desire-is not on record.”
Deku knew what the click had been. The loss of his privacy, his sanctity. His own integrity. All gone down the river with the remote deactivation of a plastic switch.
“I’ve seen them,” Bakugo said, waving his arms around in fury. His face barely light from the hum and buzz of those cathode squares. “I’ve seen the angels. We’re not sure what the best method is, of reaching them, but we know it has something to do with technology. With recorded media. With stockpiles of file reel. With records. What’s outside that door is all a facade, Deku. A fake front. Like in those old movies. This is what we’re focused on. What delicate most of our time to. Labeling, ordering your voice. Arranging it to create certain-how shall I say-frequencies in the air.”
As he said all of that, a sign-off program came on announcing the midnight hour. A military band stood before the capitol, trumpets blaring indicating the end of another fulfilling broadcast day in the country. The Soviet men grinned in wretched ecstasy.
“We’re lucky, Deku,” he said as he once again brought the switchblade to Deku’s throat, closer this time, so dar he could feel the cold edge. “I don’t think we need you anymore. I think you’ve been tapped out of everything you could possibly think or say. But we’ll get someone else. Someone smart like you. Someone with a lot of potential. Someone who can fill all these tapes.”
Deku bellowed and Bakugo lurked ever closer. His brow now completely obscured what had been his eyes which appeared as though they had long since rotted away.
As he took in the sense he thought would be his last, he noticed something strange. The television sets behind Bakugo all began to glow brighter until the room was completely lit. The static from the stations which had signed off for the night began to leave the boundaries of the screens. Off the bottom, the static dripped and congealed like a lava lamp. In streams and possibles it billowed forth and then Bakugo stopped what he’s doing momentarily as long, black stump shoved itself through the static barrier.
“Oh jeez,” said Bakugo.
The thing was tall. Taller than both of them. At least seven feet. It’s eyes were the hue of rhodochrosite and its eight spindly arms move as one in unison. Deku thought it resembled a giant spider he had once seen at the movie palace whose enormous legs stretched across the southwest part of Japan. Like any arachnid, this thing had sharp teeth. All of which glinted in the still dripping light of the impossible static.
“I’m so, so happy to meet you,” Bakugo said as he rose to his knees to touch the creature. “Come outside and you can meet the rest of us.”
The thing paused for a moment, considered the offer then a smile came over its unseen countenance and as it did, Deku smiled in turn.
“I d o n’t t h i n k t h a t w i l l b e n e c e s s a r y,” the thing said. “W e h a t e y o u.”
It lifted Bakugo. He flailed around like a rag doll but he was no match for the brute physical strength of this spindly thing. Whatever it was. It looked over at Deku, who for whatever reason was enjoying the spectacle-and it smiled at her. A big, happy smile. Unseen, yet undeniably present.
Bakugo squirmed and the thing bore down tighter, until Bakugo’s neck was compress and his windpipe gave out. He tried to say something, caught between those hairy incisors-but it was useless because his neck split clean in two as the thing bit a hole into his sternum and a torrent of fresh blood joined the static.
His head careened onto Deku’s lap. It was about as heavy as a bowling ball. The thing reached over to undo the tape, and she inspected the head. His eyes had indeed long since burned away. There were only pocked craters where they had been. Charred, bleak holes.
Deku stood at the edge of the commune in the very early morning hours of the eleventh of June. Torch in hand. The people slept unaware of what their fate would be. In the morning, the place would be razed to the ground, and their bodies, along with Bakugo’s, as well as those infernal cassettes, would be entombed with a contemporary Pompeii. For one last time, he surveyed the scenery and took in this unforgivable space. He had to admit, it was almost serene by moonlight.
“B u r n i t,” said the thing, standing behind him. One limb planted confidently on her shoulder. “B u r n i t a l l. E r a s e i t s u c h t h a t n o b o d y w i l l r e m e m b e r i t w a s h e r e.”
With the creatures’s blessing he sprinted down the hill, kissing every last shack, cabin and bush with the cone of death. Before his eyes, the buildings became alight, their pyrotechnic wonder a final testament to the depravity of those who lived there, who deprived him of his choices in life. His ability to move on into the future and to exercise his free will. His blinds, his naïveté was shattered and permanently discarded as he turned the archival shed, bakugo’s body still lying lifeless inside, into a glorious scarlet mountain of fire.
As he rain off into the woods, he turned one last time and spotted the creature, waving goodbye from the hilltop overlooking the now incinerated property. It slowly disappeared as it did and Deku brushed aside the brambles and the branches. He made a solemn oath-that he would never allow himself to be captured on camera. That he would never allow himself to be filmed, recorded or proven. He would have to change his name, move thousands of miles away, erase himself from history and live entirely in the here and now, with no past record of his existence save his own inextinguishable memory. In effect, he would become a ghost without dying.
The next All Might was dead from that moment on. He had been dead since the moment he stepped onto that commune. But, the future was looking positive, he reflected as he vanished forever into the wilderness. There was a fantastic life waiting out there for him somewhere.
