#predator and prey au

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

Soulmates: Izuku Hawks Natsuo. Even I don’t know if I’m looking for platonic or a crack ship.

Natsuo grew up in a world where he wasn’t enough. Just a face in the crowd for his father to occasionally drag out and parade around. He was never allowed his own life. Never allowed to enjoy things and to have fun without worrying about how it affected the family. Even his choice of career had been highly scrutinized by everyone. 

 “Why mental health? Cause of his mother?” Was whispered.

 “A surgeon is a better look.” PR whined at him. Natsuo ignored it all. He doubled down and worked hard. 

 But it was hard. Really hard. More so when… Shouto was aorund. Natsuo tried not to hate his little brother. It wasn’t his fault he was born with the Quirk their father desperately wanted. It wasn’t his fault that Touya had his mental break down, repeating a trauma dump on Natsuo each night that made the younger boy want to go crazy. It wasn’t Shouto’s fault.

 But oh the burn inside of him made it hard not to. He tried to ignore it, tried to temper it. 

 But it felt like a fuse. More so when Shouto came home speaking of Midoriya Izuku. 

 A name Natsuo knew given it was etched onto his skin along with the name Takami Keigo. 

 Now, soulmates weren’t always romantic. Natuso’s mother was soulmates with an aromantic asexual nurse at the hospital she was in. (And there was a reason that Rei hadn’t left yet and oh it burned him as much as Shouto did at times to know that.) But… well there was only a five year gap. Natsuo could wait and see.

 But then Shouto began talking with Fuyumi about how nice and sweet and kind Izuku was. How intelligent. How skilled. It made Natsuo want to rip something apart. His little brother shouldn’t be talking about HIS soulmate like that. All sweet and gentle and soft. Fuyumi seemed to know why Natsuo seemed angry and cautiously pried into Shouto about Izuku’s marks. Given Shouto had his own, some girl he was only friends with apparently, it was easy.

 “They were burned off by a former classmate. It came out on the first day and he got expelled.” The words made Natsuo RAGE. You don’t DO that. It was disgusting. It was horrific.

 His soulmate didn’t know who Natsuo was to him. He was too young and his mother never wrote the names down. Why would she? Burning off a mark… you didn’t do that. 

 Natsuo got the name of the boy and stewed. And stewed. He went to a stupid gala his father said the family had to and boiled in his rage. 

 Then a winged hero appeared by his side, a wrist bared.

 “Hello, I’m Hawks. Or Takami Keigo.”

-0-

 Keigo didn’t talk about the possessive side of himself. The side that gripped and snarled and imagined killing anyone who touched what was his. People were disarmed by his cheerful smiles and ‘lazy’ appearance. They didn’t look further to see more about him. 

 They’d have remembered the raptors also are fellow birds. That they were predators, more dangerous then others.

 Keigo always knew he was a predator. He could dress it up as just being a pretty bird but the truth was much darker then most knew. He was dangerous, and he would kill if anyone touched what was his.

 He lost six handlers before the Commission wised up and stopped trying to force him to give up what was HIS. They worked with him to make sure he got what was his and that he could be a hero for them. They weren’t stupid enough to try and restrict him after he’d ripped out a few throats.

 In another life, perhaps this would haven’t had happened. In another life maybe he’d be more submissive. In this one, Keigo never pushed aside his instincts and wanted. 

 But what he wanted most was his soulmates. They were HIS. His mates, the ones he would never let go. His, his, his! He wouldn’t be like his father, keeping them locked away like the man did to his son and wife. No he’s let them free. But always they would come back.

 He’d make sure of it.

 The Commission told him to wait before claiming them. That it was better to do that rather then try and take what was rightfully his. He was FURIOUS at the idea but grudgingly accepted it after a long conversation with a shrink about ‘bonding young being detrimental’. 

 But as soon as he saw one of HIS soulmates at a gala… all bets were off. He approached right away, and showed the proof. Todoroki Natsuo looked back with a familiar look in his eyes.

 “You know our third?” The white haired man asked in a whisper as a reporter began taking pictures, having seen the reveal. 

 “The kid in UA? I got banned from offering an internship. Said it wouldn’t look good and he is to young for me.” Keigo sneered. Perhaps it was true. Okay yeah it was. The kid was sixteen, he could wait a few more years… that sounded incredibly creepy. He would remove that thought. He wouldn’t interact with the young hero until it was time for them to meet as adults. 

 “His marks were burned off,” Natsuo breathed. “He doesn’t know. I did get the name of the brat who did it. Who still got into UA and then attacked our soulmate before being expelled.”

 A fury burned in Keigo as he smiled at the camera. He accidentally revealed his other wrist as he put a hand on Natuso’s shoulder.

 “What’s the name?”

-0-

 The next morning Izuku was staring at the paper that showed Hawks, the Hawks, alongside Todoroki Natsuo after being revealed as soulmates. Another name was noted though, one that everyone could see.

 Midoriya Izuku. 

 Izuku had already demanded to know why Todoroki didn’t tell him and he wasn’t to sure if he believed the claim that the red and white boy had never seen his brother’s marks. He’d seen the look the boy gave him from time to time after all.

 Though perhaps it was unfair. Izuku didn’t know. All he knew was that the burns on his wrists ached from where there had once been names. 

 He studied the photo again before sighing. He’d meet them as an adult probably. Or in passing. Their age gap wasn’t enough of one to be branded platonic off the bat but spending time now wouldn’t be the greatest idea. 

 He pulled out his phone to look at the article sent by his mother. Bakugou, his old bully and the guy who’d burned off his names as kids because ‘Quirkless Dekus don’t deserve soulmates’ had been murdered. Apparently after being expelled from UA, he’d gone vigilante and bit off more then he could chew, his throat ripped out by some villain.

 Izuku didn’t know what to think of that either honestly but put it aside. His soulmates were more important.

[dorkycreature-89]

Leaving the three with her closest friend (predator and prey au)

[howlsofbloodhounds]

TW: Kidnapping and involuntary servitude. Dehumanization, both of Killer and Murder (who is dehumanized by both Nightmare and Killer, despite how Killer isn’t aware of/doesn’t much care how he comes off, even if that’s not the intention.)

Hunting, predator/unwilling prey dynamics that is encouraged. Pet/master as well.

Also past hints to previous hunts, starvation as punishment, abuse.

Was thinking about how canon Murder was said to never want to willingly join Nightmare and wouldn’t have any interest in other AUs or ATs outside of his own, and I was thinking about how there’s a canonical Something New timeline where Nightmare just straight up yoinked up Killer and took him into involuntary servitude.

And then I was thinking about these two facts with a Bad Sans Gang AU, and my first thought was “flight risk Murder” and predator/prey dynamics with Murder and Killer (they’re both prey and predator bc Murder is very good at setting traps) and owner/pet dynamics with Nightmare and Killer.

Like, NM is old and ancient and spent some time away from most mortals for quite awhile and Killer didn’t really fight back or attempt to escape him as he yoinked him up, so he assumes it’ll just be the same with Murder.

Only, nope. First mission out and the guy’s making an immediate run for it. Killer has to track him down and drag him back, which presented a surprisingly good challenge because this guy is fast and light on his feet and good at thinking quickly (like Killer). He set up so many various traps or made impromptu ones, he kept Killer on his toes.

This becomes a bit of a routine (no one uses that word around Stage 2 Killer, because then it becomes something to avoid).

Nightmare sends them out, Murder tries to run if he has the energy and Determination, Killer hunts him down with something bordering on amusement and glee.

He’s never hunted another version of himself down quite like this before, and unsurprisingly this leads to moments of squabbling and vicious fighting between Murder and Killer who gets closer and closer to Stage 3 with every hunt. He’s having fun, falling into habit, the thrill of the chase.

They always both come back bloody, beaten, injured, and exhausted, Killer either carrying Murder bridal style or by the scruff of his hoodie, but Killer is uncharacteristically pleased and almost happy to be hunting someone down. (“You fell back into form easy enough, huh. Just like old times, right, partner?”)

Murder is always beyond exhausted and pissed, something bordering on realizing how powerless he actually is when compared to Nightmare (worried he might not ever be able to stop his human because he’ll never get free), and Nightmare is just…endlessly amused.

It’s like watching the cat drag in a mouse to its owner, so he will of course give Killer his well deserved praise and treats. This new behavior is something he hadn’t observed in his weapon yet, and he is admittedly curious.

You’re allowed to rest more today, eat more today. Just make sure to take care of Murder, have him up and ready for the next time. (This is what you’re supposed to do with mortals you don’t want dying on you just yet, right? It seems so tedious..maybe just this one time, just to see what happens.)

Feeling Murder’s anger at Killer, his disgust and discomfort around him (Murder’s embarrassment and humiliation at being wrangled and treated like a pet, even though Killer always takes care of his injuries well just like he does for the cats he adores so much), is like a nice side dish for Nightmare. He can feel Murder’s slowly, ever slowly, dwindling hope; and he assumes it’ll eventually be just like Killer.

That Murder will accept his place, and then will make the best of it, and they’ll all move on from this. Or maybe they’ll keep going but now both his pets will enjoy playing out in the woods or something.

But, no. Murder’s escape attempts begin losing its previous zeal. He’s just doing it because it’s habit now, and not because he thinks he’ll actually get free this time. He causally wanders off, and he spots Killer leaning against a tree like, “so..you come here often?”

He immediately turns around and goes back.

Killer is getting bored and apathetic again, Nightmare can tell. The tingle of “something new” has worn off, Murder is no longer novel. He’s boring and lame now.

But Killer knows he isn’t broken yet. Murder isn’t like him, he can see the spark of defiance and life in those dim eyes. It’s so different from what Killer sees when he dares to catch a glimpse of the reflection in the blade of his knife.

If Murder isn’t broken yet, then he’s just biding time. And Killer can’t wait to see what he does next.

(Who knows. Maybe Killer even does things to attempt to keep Murder’s hope up. Because he wouldn’t be fun if he were just like Killer.) (He doesn’t want anyone becoming like him)

(..of course things would get difficult if Killer starts thinking that Murder could genuinely start escaping him. Hunting someone down brings back memories, feelings, consequences of failure..

Stage 3 will not let this prey get away because no prey means no food means more pain means upset-angry-stomach-body. Pain to stomach and pain to head and pain to bones and soul and disappointment means becoming prey.)

(..eventually, though, it all comes to a head. Maybe Killer finally triggered into Stage 3 and kills Murder in the fight, before it can bring in the prey for observation, proof of having done well.

And maybe this is how Nightmare becomes aware of Stage 3, and is..deeply intrigued about this new side of his weapon. Perhaps this explains why Killer had been behaving oddly, outside of the thrill of something new. Perhaps this wasn’t as new for his killer as Nightmare had thought it was.

The next one they get will be more willing, somehow, someway. “I will get you another friend to play with,” he reassures his killer.)

[billfinarts]

Predator: Tales of the Hunt

Pg.6

More blood has been spilled, the Wendigo has claimed her prize alongside the black beast...

Find out more next Wednesday!

Colors done by @kenosisofabrami

Lineart and storyboard by me

[s0fter-sin]

fainting goat hybrid!ghost whose father and brother loved to scare him and make him faint; exploiting a weakness he didn’t understand and didn’t know how to stop. they took sadistic pleasure in watching his body lock up and fall to the ground with no hope of catching himself until he ended up with more bruises and scrapes from falling than from being beaten

that helplessness chafed at him and he forced himself through the drawbacks of his biology to secure a place in the military, even with the prejudice against prey animals. just for him to take a mission in mexico and find himself enduring the “hospitality” of roba who thinks his involuntary paralysis is a great deal of fun; especially when he learns he’s conscious the whole time

what haunts ghost most is his waking autopsy

not the pain of the incisions, not the trauma of watching roba reach into his body and play with his insides, but the knowledge that he couldn't get away because his own body betrayed him. he wasn't put under, no drugs coursed through his system. he didn’t have restraints fitted on him to lock him to the operating table. it wasn’t necessary

roba just had to make him faint first

after digging himself out of his grave, ghost puts himself on a dangerous cocktail of muscle relaxers and other medications; hormones that block hybrid instincts, vasodilators to increase blood flow and stop his muscles locking up, anti-anxiety meds to cut off his surprise response at the root. he puts his body through the wringer to the point that medical is constantly worried for his health and shocked that he isn't regularly OD’ing

but he will never let his body betray him again

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

furrifies them

i haven't drawn anthro in a while so this was fun af. i also keep reassigning them different beasts. a symptom of my whimsical heart

blood below

[threepandas]

Bad End: Happy Hunting! (1)

I should have known better. They told us. TRAINED US. Over and over, drilled into our heads! Don't assume! Don't PROJECT Human body language onto alien species! Think that just because they look similar, are ACTING similar, their brains are in any way WORKING similar!

Not every species pack bonds! Some of them are PREDATORS. Be CAREFUL!

I was an idiot. A fucking IDIOT!

I gasped for air. Ran. Ran and ran and RAN. Desperately trying to put distance between me and the hunters behind me. I could hear screams. Crashing. The sound of weapon fire. The air here wasn't RIGHT. Too high in oxygen? Too low? Some other trace element, slowly poisoning my lungs?

I didn't know. Scared! Oh god, I'm so scared!

I thought he was my friend!

Thought THEY were my friends! Stupid. So God damned stupid! You really will pack bond with ANYTHING, won't you?! They bare their teeth and you fucking thought it was a SMILE! No wonder I barely graduated. They never should have-!

A root catches my foot.

Crashing to the mulch of the forest floor. Scramble to get up. My ankle on fire. Hurts. Oh god it hurts! Ignore it. Go! Keep going! Gotta get OUT! Find a ship. Any ship! Radio for help!

All the trees look the same. Am I even going in a straight line? Deeper or across? Away from civilization? I don't know how to survive here! Can I even drink the water? No. Run! Just RUN! Nothing else!

I can't hear them.

Him.

I thought he was my friend.

My grades were shit. Worst of the Best, but ultimately good enough. Got to see the stars. The galaxy. Meet real life aliens. Was a glorified gofer for the Earthling Diplomat's Entourage. Galactic Council offered staff. Wasn't really an offer. We took um. Some of them were the "better" guards then the super military badasses we had brought.

Military badasses were pretty offended.

But I was a gofer. Not my circus, not my monkeys. Just here for the aliens, right? Yay getting to meet some, right? I couldn't even PRONOUNCE their species name. I was mortified. Tried my damnedest. They thought it was hilarious. My pronunciation was god awful. Was calling them the cutesy babified version of "office chair".

Met Wolfe. He seemed FRIENDLY. Kind. Considerate. He told jokes. Asked about my day. I started sharing. Hobbies and interests. Stories about home. Explained weird human behaviors. We were close. I... I thought we were close! Was it a lie? Was everything A LIE!?

When my rotation in space was coming to an end, I was SAD! Fucking HEARTBROKEN! That I might never see my friends again. Since communication between our two planets wasn't even stabilized yet. Might never be. I wanted to savor our time together. Treasure it!

But then things started to go wrong.

Random malfunctions, that delayed and delayed us. Lost communications that nearly caused interplanetary incidents. Took days and weeks to fix at a time. People went MISSING. We looked. Every time we LOOKED!

They're dead, aren't they? Oh god. Dozens of crew members DEAD.

Then the engine "broke". Conveniently just close enough for us to make an emergency landing on this planet! And oh, would you look at THAT! A sacred cultural festival!? They won't help us unless we join in.

It's a MARRIAGE HUNT.

Heavy emphasis on the HUNT part!

They weren't surprised. Not a single one. Every last one just turned too different people and... and...! Wolfe planned this. THEY planned this! We're gonna die. I trusted him and now I'm gonna DIE! Can't breathe! Branches whipping at my arms and hair and face, as I RUN. Down slopes. Across shallow rivers. Even as my limbs BURN. I... I HAVE TOO-!

A powerful wall of muscle slams into me.

I scream. Thrash, even as I fall. My arms are easily tucked and pinned against my side, as the body covering mine rolls with me down a slight incline. The smell of wet plant matter and upturned soil thick in the strange air. Dizzy. I feel sick. Oh god please no!

Heat and pressure pin me down. Arms like thick steel bands. Still, I struggle, like a cornered animal. I have too. They always tell you to FIGHT. Only chance and survival. The deep rumble of crooned reassurances in an alien dialect fill my ear. I can feel how DEEPLY he breathes me in, before each sentence. Like hes been holding back and finally no longer has too, is giddy with it. How his hands already spread possessively, eager to explore.

And he's strong. Oh god, he's so strong! Please please please! Let go. LET GO!

"Shhhhhh shh shh, is 'okay' now. I have you. You ran so hard! Did so well! My precious little human~ so brave. So strong. You did it! Now, no one can EVER seperate us! You don't have to worry anymore. No more tears~" Hunter, Warrior, oh god it was never a GRIN-! His teeth are so sharp. Pressed so close to my skin!

"I'll take care of EVERYTHING~"

I'm scared.

[peachdues]

I’m horny so I’m making it everyone’s problem BUT

sincerely thinking about Werewolf!Sanemi’s first time experiencing Netherwood!Reader’s ovulation week and losing his damn mind

[howlonomy]

Idea for dt clover monster

1- 6 shooter, where the board gets split into 6 sections and you have to remember how the rounds were loaded into it

2- buckshot, where clover will shoot the board with a shotgun but the rounds fan out like the astral dreamer attack

3- lasso and lazer where the board is lined up with a double barrel shotgun and the soul is tied to the center having to avoid each shot from each barrel

4- clover will slowly move their talons in and you have to fire at them to keep them away

Beyond that I’m not sure, maybe they use their wings to block attacks?

yall are way more creative than me with this kinda stuff AHDJSJCN but ill add my own thoughts!!

YELLOW ATTACKS; If you get hit with one of DT!Clover’s yellow attacks, your HP gets sucked out and used to heal DT!Clover instead (similar to Ceroba’s red attacks).

1) Six Shooter —> Russian Roulette: In a very similar vein, you watch a (yellow colored) round be loaded into a revolver; you have like half a second to react to a reticle being put on your soul before it’s fired and it’s either a live round (normal bullet attack) or a yellow round.

2) Buckshot: Huge shotgun attacks that explodes into stars. The stars explode into SMALLER stars. Very bullet hell.

3) Prey: Similar to Ed’s attack, you have to avoid Clover’s talons grabbing you; if caught, you are stuck in one place and aimed at by either feathers, stars, or revolver shots. Very difficult to move and avoid attacks if caught.

4) Blackhole: Extending their wings, their inner wings turn into the void of space, sucking you to the top of the battle box. You must avoid swipes from their claws or shooting stars coming out of their wings.

5) One Last Hurrah: Similar to Zenith Martlet’s attack where the screen goes huge and she flies towards you (idk the name lmao); Clover’s tail splits into four; they slam it into the battle box, yellow shards spraying. The main attack is DT!Clover’s SOUL charge up an attack and shoot towards you. They swat your bullets away with their tail, you can’t hurt them during this attack.

EXTRA CHALLENGES: As the fight goes on, lighting surrounds attacks that have things to do with DT!Clover’s physical body; such as their talons or wings. Extra damage, and occasionally yellow! A lot of simpler attacks also overlap, like how Zenith Martlet has like 3 different attacks going on every round. Things like TNT explosions, gunpowder lines you have to avoid (or else it will explode), and gunshots that shatter the battle box into segments (so you’re stuck in one section unless you take damage to move through the cracks).

You would have to aim for DT!Clover’s soul with bullets to hurt them! No other spot would damage them; just their soul. idk how all this would work in an actually game but this was fun to theorize and think up >:]

[ssminosblogs]

Aquí la continuación!

[constantchaosalways]

Sketch

Fun fact. Dahlia is a roe dear!

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

A New AU List of Fics I ACTUALLY Want to Write/Am Writing (Mostly BNHA)

Fics Being Written

Pulling on the Strings of Destiny: A reading the future fic with a single teen mom Fem!Izuku. Long term project.

Pairings: EraserMic right now. I do have other pairings in mind, but as of now am not quite announcing.

TUMBLR TAG/AO3

Mission: Woo Izuku Series: Thanks to a quirk, Izuku's future potential partners are revealed to the world. Mostly pure shenanigans and a lot of ocs. Semi Crossover for Shits and giggles with Dragon Age

Pairings: Izuku/Everyone Basically. EraserMic, Warden/Zevran, Kamui Woods/OC (has not been shown yet but is planned), Hawke/Merrill

On AO3 (I kept switching the stupid tag on tumblr and gave up trying to figure it out)

Diverging Paths: A series where Fem!Izuku is put into an arranged marriage with various people. Long Term Project, multiple 'routes'.

Pairings: IiDeku, TodoDeku, TokoDeku, MonoDeku, HawksDeku (sort of? not really?) Others depending on the fic.

On AO3/On Tumblr

Izuku's Many Siblings: A ridiculous AU where Izuku has multiple siblings. Mostly shits and giggles.

Pairings: Midoriya Inko/Pixie Bob, OC/Dabi

On AO3

Not A fic... Yet, but either being plotted or is being written

Aphrodite Rising: A Fem!Izuku AU where her Quirk is Attract Info, gaining her the ability to gain information on people who find her attractive. She gains OFA as well.

Pairings: OT4 (Iida Tenya/Uraraka Ochako/Midoriya Izuku/Todoroki Shouto), All Might/Midnight, Aizawa/Fatgum, Mic/Thirteen, Midoriya Inko/Tsukauchi Naomasa, others... (it's a rarepair hell)

TUMBLR TAG/AO3 (not on yet)

Purge!AU (The Purge of Heroes? Title unknown): HPSC decides to go through the hero ranks and remove a good portion of heroes who are: incompetent, glory hounds, cruel heroes, caused to much collateral, didn't meet a quota or even just they weren't useful in some cases. This happens before Izuku goes to UA, and a lot of things changed.

Pairings: So far leaning towards OT3 (Tenya Iida/Midoriya Izuku/Uraraka Ochako)

Tumblr Post

Unnamed MASH AiDeku Soulmate AU (Titled as 'Tumblr Made me Do it' as of now, open to change): Age swaped Shinsou, Jirou, Kaminari, Tokoyami, Aizawa, Mic, Midnight and Kurogiri, Magical MASH soulmate stuff is a thing. Disabled Fem!Izuku, Uraraka and Iida. Jirou is Izumi's cousin... kind of crazy.

Pairings: Age changed AiDeku, ShinJiro, MicNight (more later)

Tumblr Post

Predator and Prey AU: Soulmate HawksDekuNatsu with Yandere!Hawks and Natsuo. Murder, drama, a lot of creepy shit.

Pairings: HawksDekuNatsu, one sided TodoDeku, other couples.

Original Tumblr Post/Tumblr Tag

The Fathers of Izuku: Inko went to a sperm bank to have Izuku. However, they found out way later the bank used sperm 'stolen' from HPSC facilities. Said sperm was that of heroes. Izuku is now possibly the child of multiple heroes. Would be various stories with different fathers. (Due to an incident where a few heroes got hit by a villain who could make them sterile, teen heroes also had their sperm taken to. Mostly done for shits and giggles.)

Pairings: Multiple.

No Tumblr Tag yet...

Fics I Have written on AO3 that... I really wanna keep going at, but may take a while. Might do rewrites?

Midoriya Izuku: The Game: Gamer Quirk AU! That's... all I can say. Might rewrite? I like it but lost a lot of interest for some reason...

On AO3

Omega Quirk: Izuku has a Quirk that makes him like an Omega from fanfiction.

On AO3

Decagon: The Supportive Hero: Izuku has a Quirk that lets him boost other Quirks.

On AO3

Devotion to the Aesthetic: Fem!Izuku is a youtuber and loves American/Canadian 1950s stuff.

On AO3

[dorkycreature-89]

Her only beckon of light (predator and prey au)

[billfinarts]

Predator: Tales of the Hunt

Pg.5

Now we see the face of the great black beast, and Shaytán is on a bloodied rampage.

Find out more next Wednesday!

Colors done by @kenosisofabrami

Lineart and storyboard by me

[tennessoui]

I'm begging on my hands and knees for more Twilight au, and those are words I never thought I'd say! Anakin being able to resist compulsion, and Obi-Wan seeming instantly obsessed, and poor Shmi! Pretty please 🥺🙏

hey!! sure! here's some more!

(2.5k)

Having a sheriff for a mom sucked a lot when he was a kid growing up in a small town. There was probably nothing Anakin was rebelling against more at eleven, at thirteen, at seventeen than the rule of law his mother represented. 

All things considered, she was pretty good at separating her home life from her worklife. It was Anakin who was bad at respecting the separation, Anakin who couldn’t keep son out of delinquent.  There’s only so many times he could be pulled out of wreckage and bars and buildings with Keep Out No Trespassing signs on them before he got The Sheriff at home and out in public.

He’d hated it growing up and had come to grudgingly respect it later and in fits and starts. His dad dying had, terribly and ironically, helped a lot. His mother had had a stroke just before and then Anakin had been faced with the possibility of being an orphan, and the terror of that had mellowed him out.

Sorta.

He still hates a lot of things about his mother’s job. Especially the fact that she’s the sheriff of a very small town.

And when people talk, she listens.

The thing about small towns is that everyone’s always fucking talking. And other people are always fucking lsitening so they can talk later. One big fucking community, which means when Anakin comes home from his weird doctor’s appointment with Dr. Kenobi, a few hours later because he took a detour biking along the edge of the seaside cliffs just to spit in the good doctor’s metaphorical face, Shmi Skywalker already knows more than Anakin ever planned to tell her.

Like, for instance, “Sheila says that Dr. Kenobi thought it would behoove you to spend some time at the local library volunteering.”

Anakin pauses, backpack half-slung off his shoulders. He hangs his stuff up slowly, careful to keep his tone very light. “Did Sheila say what I told him after he said that?” 

His mom’s silence is very loud.

“I don’t want to do i—”

“I asked the new librarian about it on my way home from the station. She thinks it’s a wonderful idea. Apparently we used to have a program like that in the forties but it died out during the war.”

“Mom, come on—”

“It’ll look good on resumes, saying you created and supported a local reading program.”

“Yeah, but I’m a bit too old to be applying for babysitting positio—”

“It’ll look good for me as well,” Shmi says in her sheriff voice. “Elections are coming up soon. It’ll be good, if my kid was involved in the community.”

Anakin’s glad that his back is still turned to the living room, where his mom is sitting. “Are you gonna run again?” he asks, paying special attention to his tone this time.

“Why wouldn’t I?” his mom replies. “I’ve been sheriff for a decade and a half.”

Anakin lets his eyes fall closed for a second, knowing that his face can’t be seen. This is how they end up half the time: Shmi’s ardent belief that she is invincible, going up against Anakin’s desperate desire for her to be so.

And they just don’t talk about it. As if they’re actually in agreement.

He knows how this is going to shake out.

“Do you have any plans tomorrow?” His mother asks.

Anakin’s eyes remain closed. “I guess so,” he says.

—--------

Mrs. Kenobi—call me Satine—is sort of scary up close. She’s tall. She glides between bookshelves. Anakin’s never met someone who glides before. And she’s so intensely, incredibly, blindingly perfect that Anakin would rather be anywhere but in her vicinity. There’s something incredibly unnerving about the symmetry of her face, the sharpness of her cheekbones. She’s obviously an absolute knock-out, just drop-dead gorgeous, but it makes Anakin’s skin crawl and his heart beat fast, but not in a good way or a normal teenage boy way.

Anakin tries to keep the unease off his face as Satine leads him through a tour of the library, a gentle hand on his forearm. That’s another thing Anakin doesn’t really like. She’s wearing satin gloves. He doesn’t know anyone who wears gloves anymore.

It’s just all a bit…unsettling.

“I put in a few words around the school yesterday afternoon,” Satine tells him. They pass by the mystery section, the fantasy section, and take a hard right into the young adult section. The shelves are smaller here, and Anakin feels rather stupidly gigantic as he and Satine walk through them. “To some parents picking their children up after school. They agreed it would be good exposure to bring them to the library for an hour or so of reading before supper.”

Anakin highly doubts it will be, but Satine hasn’t really asked him.

She sweeps past his figure and pushes open a pair of double doors with a flourish better suited for a Russian tsarina hosting an elaborate ball than a small town librarian showing off a small, cramped, and dusty room filled with padded seats and threadbare rugs.

And then, as if she has been waiting to put the last nail in the proverbial coffin, Satine adds, “A few students from the local high school will be here as well.”

“Sorry,” Anakin says, “are you saying I’m going to be reading to high school students? Can’t they do that themselves?”

After all, Anakin went to high school here. Academics hadn’t been too rigorously challenging, but they’d taught the fucking basics.

Satine raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow in his direction. “They’ll be volunteering as well.”

Oh. Right.

“It looks good on their college applications,” Satine waves a hand through the air and the words linger there. Anakin looks out the rather dirty window, jaw clenching. “I’ve already chosen a handful of books I think the young ones will enjoy.”

Anakin, committed to his fate, pads over to the titles placed carefully ontop of a short, stout side table. 

“Peter the Rabbit,” he reads off the top. “Peter Pan. Alice in Wonderland. Treasure Island. The Prince and the Pauper—look, you’re the librarian here, but don’t you have anything written this century maybe? Harry Potter, even.”

“These are classics,” Satine tells him, her nose raised into the air as if she has encountered something particularly foul-smelling. She turns away, presumably to return to the front desk so she can welcome half the fucking town inside the library so Anakin can read them fucking Anne of Green Gables and become a better person.

“These are fucking boring,” he mutters to himself, flicking the cover of the first book, The Wonderful Wizard of Oz open. Publication date: 1900. “I’d rather be in Kenobi’s office getting lectured at.”

There’s a sharp noise of disapproval from the doorway, and Anakin’s head snaps up to see the tail end of a very heated look from the librarian before the door closes behind her.

He shivers, alone in the emply room, and it takes several long minutes for his heart to settle back into its normal pace. 

—----------

After the fourth kid sneezes, Anakin closes his book with a snap and stands from the very small chair they’ve got him sitting on. “Come on,” he tells the cluster of children he’s been assigned to. “We’re getting out of here.”

“Are you kidnapping us?” One of them, a snot-nosed kid who’d started the sneezing says, rubbing at her cheek beneath her glasses. “Cause mommy says that’s not allowed.”

“I’m not kidnapping you,” Anakin snaps back, barely holding in his natural follow-up to the sentence which is of course, I don’t want to be around any of you in the first place. “Also, just for future reference, you shouldn’t ask if someone’s kidnapping you after you already start following them.”

The girl scowls and reaches up her hand to hold onto Anakin’s. 

For the love of Christ.

“We’re just going to go into the main part of the library,” Anakin tells his children, all six of them. “They have windows out there.”

They have windows out there and they also have parents. Parents who absolutely should be doing other things with their lives and precious hour of extra freetime.

Parents who are clustered instead around the library’s front desk as the town’s newest librarian holds court.

“Is reading time over?” one of the kids asks him, turning his head to look up at Anakin.

Anakin thinks about it. “Do you want reading time to be over?”

The kid thinks about it back. “Yeah,” he decides. “You don’t do the voices good.”

“It’s a boring book,” Anakin tells the kid. “Voices aren’t going to make it better.”

“Voices always make it better,” another kid says. “They make everything better.”

“Oh look,” Anakin says. “Is that your father?”

He gestures vaguely towards the cluster of drooling middle-aged somethings focused on Satine.

The kid peeks around his thigh and then shakes his head. “No,” he says. “That’s Dr. Obi.”

“Dr. Obi!” The kid holding Anakin’s hand says, and she lets go.

Anakin gets a bad feeling about this, a feeling that only doubles when he turns around to see Dr. Kenobi sauntering towards him, hands tucked into the pockets of a long dark jacket that makes him look even more pale than he already is.

He scowls automatically as the man gets closer. “Dr. Obi.”

Dr. Kenobi spares him a look that’s far too amused for Anakin’s pleasure before he crouches down to the level of the kids. “Hello there, young ones,” he says, opening his arms to accept a hug from the traitor of a girl Anakin’s just spent thirty minutes reading to. “Are you eating all your vegetables? Even the brussel sprouts?”

“I like brussel sprouts,” one of the kids reports sounding proud, and that starts a cacophony of opinions about brussel sprouts from all around Anakin.

“Wow! One of mine just absolutely hates them,” Dr. Kenobi says. “She refuses to eat them, so you’re very brave, Michele.” He lets go of the girl and turns his golden-brown gaze up to Anakin. “And what does Mr. Skywalker think?” he asks, raising a hand for Anakin to take. It’s very obvious he’s asking for a hand up and Anakin is obeying before he thinks about it. He snatches his hand free almost too soon, but Dr. Kenobi doesn’t even have the grace to lose his balance and fall over. 

His hand is like ice in Anakin’s, and Anakin stuffs his fingers into the pocket of his jacket automatically a second later.

“Do brussel sprouts help with circulation?” he’s biting out before he can stop himself. “Cause you may need some then.”

Kenobi’s head tilts very slightly to the side as his eyes catch and hold onto Anakin’s. “Oh?” he asks lightly. 

“You’re cold,” is all Anakin mutters in return. He swipes his other hand against the back of his neck. “”S poor circlutation, isn’t it? Something in your diet maybe?” Dr. Kenobi blinks at him and then breaks into a wide smile. “I can assure my diet is very…circulation-mindful,” he says. “Blood health positive.”

Anakin’s mouth thins into a line. He guesses that’s what he gets for trying to give health advice to a doctor, especially a doctor like Kenobi who just so happens to be devastatingly attractive and also smart.

And also an asshole. And also married.

Speaking of which. “Are you here to fend off your wife’s admirers with a scalpel?” Kenobi’s eyebrows raise. “Young ones,” he turns his head away from Anakin, down to the children.

The strangest feeling breaks of Anakin the second Kenobi looks away, almost as if a strange pressure he hadn’t even realized had been building was suddenly dissolved.

The very small beginnings of a headache begin to thrum in his temples.

“Young ones, it’s time to find your parents, isn’t it?” Kenobi says, and like fucking magic, the crowd of six children around Anakin disperse, children swarming away from him towards the group of adults surrounding the front desk.

“Can you teach me how to do that?” Anakin blurts out, even though he’d meant to ignore Kenobi now that he doesn’t have to make nice in front of small kids. Not that he was really making nice in the first place. But now he definitely doesn’t have to.

Kenobi gives him a half-smile, eyes heavy-lidded. “It’s a special sort of skill that takes, above all else, much practice.”

Anakin scowls. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Does Kenobi think he can’t commit himself to something even as mundane as a fucking commanding persona? Does he think he doesn’t have it in him to be–-

Kenobi’s eyebrows go up again. “Has anyone ever told you that you are exceedingly defensive?” 

“You’re extremely nosey,” Anakin snaps back, crossing his arms over his chest. “Don’t you have better things to focus on right now anyway?”

He gestures loosely towards Satine, who has started playing with one of the mother’s bracelets as the other woman stands and looks at her rather dumbfounded.

Kenobi follows his gaze and then lets out a huff of laughter. “Satine can take care of herself,” he says, even though it hadn’t really been Satine that Anakin was worried about.

He’s about to open his mouth to say so when Kenobi turns back to him. His eyes are piercing, a dark, captivating sort of gold. 

“Do you find my wife beautiful, Anakin?” he asks.

Anakin blinks. His headache is getting worse, which is probably down to what can only be a trick-question fashioned to look like a grenade lobbed at his feet. “I don’t think there’s a good answer to that,” he mutters, rubbing absently at his forehead. “What the fuck.”

“An honest answer is a good one,” Kenobi says lightly. “Tell me honestly.”

The words feel pulled from Anakin’s stomach, and he’s opening his mouth before he realizes it. “No,” he says. 

Kenobi’s eyebrows crinkle together. “No?”

Anakin curses his stupid impulse control. “She’s beautiful,” he adds quickly. “Really. But…it makes me uncomfortable.”

Kenobi’s lips purse, and then there’s something like disappointment in his eyes as he examines Anakin. “Ah yes,” he murmurs. “I’ve been told my wife can make countless young men feel rather uncomfortable. It’s normal in men your age, Anakin. Sexual ar—”

“Uncanny,” Anakin blurts out. He doesn’t mean to, but he also doesn’t want to listen to  Kenobi trying to lecture him on fucking arousal in the public library. When it’s not even relevant. “She’s so beautiful, it’s uncanny.”

“Uncanny.”

“Yeah, like. Monstrous.”

Kenobi’s mouth falls open, pink lips parted in what looks like honest surprise.

Anakin’s own eyes widen as it hits him that he’s just called Kenobi’s wife a monster to Kenobi’s face.

“Shit,” he says. “Sorry. I didn’t mean that. I’m going to go.” 

He throws a look at Kenobi, whose eyes are lit with something a lot like interest and then across the library to where Satine’s head is turned, cocked, and eyebrows up high on her forehead, as if she’s just heard everything he’s said.

He decides rather immediately that he’s going to take the backdoor exit.

[wolfsteax]

A slasher version of my sona / oc Asher!

He suffers from a splintered mind that can send him into fits of wild rage. When stable, he does his best to live a normal life. When unstable, he becomes a predator hunting for prey.

His partner is the only bunny he is unable to kill when he has an episode.