#incidental twin

[ikemenomegas]

Getou Suguru x Reader

"Somewhere there is a simple life"

or "four sorcerers' day in the world of humans, four years after betrayal"

tw: omegaverse, geto typical murderous mentions? children being cute? hints of past satoxsuguxreader, mentions of pregnancy

Sometimes you wonder if things could have been different, if you could have had this happiness in some other time, in some other place. It doesn't matter now, you suppose. There are no other times, no other places. Suguru has made his choice, and you have made yours.

And you have chosen to have moments of happiness, just like this one, for as long as you can.

Morning light slants early and golden over the table. Mimiko is, as usual, quiet, but she is awake, responding in her breathy voice to your questions and tentatively padding around the kitchen with you. She takes small dishes from your hand and sets them on the table.

The table is filled with them. Many colors and a traditional set up of different kinds of vegetables, broiled fishes, salad, tofu and bean curds.

Nanako had tried to help, but she'd sat down and fallen asleep again with her head against the wall, phone face down on her thigh. She's drooling a bit, so deeply asleep, and it makes you want to laugh.

Mimiko catches your eye and you tilt your head to her sister. She rolls her eyes a bit, smile playing about her mouth and she silently sounds out "playing Ace Attorney" and goes back to working around her sleeping twin, rearranging the plates to her heart's content.

Suguru catches you on the shoulder, fondness in his voice when he says "We spoil them."

"Who spoils them," you raise any eyebrow at him and press your lips to the juncture of his jaw, breathing in his scent, still heavy and warm after taking an early call in your bed.

With Mimiko's back turned and Nanako still soundly asleep, you nip a little at the skin over his scent gland and make a low playful sound in your throat at the spark of mischief and warning in your mate's dark brown eyes.

"Everything okay?" you ask him.

His arm slips around your waist as he sags against your back. "Yeah, just some little remnants that don't want to fall in line. Toshihisa is going to handle it."

"Good. You promised to take a break."

"You promised to take me to ride the boats," Mimiko appeared in front of you and looked up at Suguru.

He crouched down, backs of his pajama pants touching the floor. You missed seeing him like this more often. He was usually in the priest's garb which still made him seem somehow untouchable. It wasn't just the clothes, it was the persona.

You'd never really though of Suguru as an actor before, but now he had a half a dozen faces he seemed to switch between and some of them were less pleasant than others. You never feared he would hurt you, but it hurt nonetheless to see his pain curdled to hatred the way it had.

He ruffled Mimiko's hair. "Soup, showers, sheets," he listed off on three fingers, "then the boats."

Mimiko puffed out her cheeks. She might be the quiet twin, but she was often the more stubborn. Sometimes you thought Nanako just complained for her and that was why she was louder. It was good though to see them loud.

Suguru had told you from the beginning what happened in the village and it hadn't surprised you that both of the twins had been quiet and anxious for almost a year.

"Ah, right, the soup," you murmured and left them to their staring contest.

As planned, once Nanako was awakened and everyone had eaten, the girls had showered, and new bedding had been placed in your room and the twins' room, a load of the laundry started in the washer, you all headed to the park.

The train was not as crowded now that rush hour had passed but Suguru still pressed close to you, a twist to the corner of his lips which he hid in your hair when anyone human brushed by him. You beckoned Mimiko and Nanako close as a pack of students pushed onto the train.

You leaned up to murmur something in Suguru's ear and accidentally caught the eye of a beta woman sitting in one of the seats.

She must have mistaken the stress in your eyes, because she carefully rose and offered it to Suguru.

The transformation was disquieting, the way Suguru's expression relaxed into a sheepish laugh and he tried to refuse.

The beta woman said something about having young kids and Suguru finally sat down, half to shut her up you suspected. Nanako clambered on top of him. You had seen her watch the exchange with attentive eyes and it seemed she had resolved to help Suguru play act.

You inclined your head in thanks to the beta and covered your mouth with your sleeve, laughing a bit at his expense. Suguru gave you a sulky look when Mimiko joined her sister, choosing to stand with her hand braced on Suguru's knee while you pressed close behind her to give the train car a bit more breathing room.

Upon exiting the train at your station, Suguru found a restroom to wash his hands and yours before you all found your way above ground again.

Everyone relaxed once you reached the park. Natural green spaces were places of relaxation and healing and seldom attracted as many curses as other gathering places. If they were present they were usually easily dealt with.

It was a little more difficult to carry your tanto around these days. It was harder to hide the residuals of a cursed tool, and it was dangerous to carry a blade in public. You also typically didn't need it.

Suguru collected so many curses now, you thought sadly. Your grip on his fingers tightened as you walked side by side, watching Mimiko and Nanako run along the paths and into the forest.

One of those curses, a cute thing that looked somewhat like a couch cushion or maybe that footrest from the movie with the singing furniture, chased after them, baring its teeth like a little dog at the birds that fluttered around the pavement.

The twins called for you two to hurry up, dashing back and forth as you made your way to the boats.

They had already chosen a pair of swans - one white and one a pale blue - when you made it to the docks. They were deep in the process of deciding which one of them would sit with Suguru when he went over to egg them on.

You shook your head, smiling while you paid the woman at the counter. She offered you a knowing sort of smile when Suguru grabbed the back of Nanako's collar, preventing her from nearly dashing into the water.

You clapped your hands, holding up the tickets. "Who's going to ride with me first? Ah, you've been giving Suguru so much attention, I think I'm feeling lonely. The kids must not think I'm fun anymore."

Nanako shrugged out of Suguru's grip. "Mimiko, you should sit with them."

"No way," Mimiko said quietly, "you didn't help set up for breakfast. You should spend more time with them."

Suguru looked up at your stunned face and laughed, his brows crinkling together and shoulders shaking.

"You're their teacher," you said to him, putting on a show of being hurt, "shouldn't you teach them better manners?" You put a hand on your chest, "My feelings are hurt, no one wants to sit with me and win the boat race."

"Boat race?" the twins looked up in tandem with the cursed spirit that was still running around their feet.

You sighed, closing one eye. "Hmm. I don't know if I want to anymore. Everyone seems to want a peaceful ride with Getou-sensei. Maybe I should just go find us some ice cream instead."

The sisters looked at one another and you smirked to yourself, meeting Suguru's eyes. Something flashed through them, troubled or melancholy maybe.

Maybe you were laying it on a little thick, imitating the kind of games that used to work to distract Satoru and pull Shoko out of her isolating distance. Now your heart gave a real pang which you brushed aside as the twins seemed to come to a conclusion and flocked towards you, pushing you into the white boat. Nanako had leapt in and was poking around in curiosity.

It had already been four years. You'd only been at the school for three.

A dull bang on the outside of the boat startled you from your thoughts. Suguru leaned through the window. "Do you know how to drive this thing?"

You looked down at the pedals below your feet. "It can't be that hard," you replied.

"And," you grinned at him, "it's not like I was planning on playing fair."

Suguru smiled back. "How funny, neither was I."

It was fun to stretch the limits of your power for once. Since living at Suguru's compound you didn't need to go and risk your life as often. Sometimes you went out to deal with matters that stressed his tolerance for human hypocrisy, but mostly people came to him.

You used your cursed technique to make the boat go faster while Suguru summoned a pair of water-born curses to pull his boat.

The twins laughed and cheered each of you on, clambering between boats in a manner that would have gotten you all yelled at if you hadn't made your way to a quiet part of the river.

Eventually they grew tired and the boats were returned. They were tired enough to be subdued while eating the lunch you brought but the food restored enough of their energy that they clamored to be carried home.

Suguru huffed under Nanako's weight when she threw herself onto his back. "I think it's time to find something big enough to carry everyone. You're getting taller."

Mimiko made the decision to keep a hold of your sleeve.

"Are you sure you don't want to be carried too?"

Mimiko looked up Nanako who grinned at her. When you crouched down, she carefully wrapped her arms around your neck before you stood up.

"Aren't we taking the train back to the temple?" she asked quietly.

You glanced at the back of Suguru's head but he gave no indication one way or the other. He'd do anything for the twins. They'd grown up in the countryside and the Tokyo trains in their massive stations could sometimes still be something exciting for the girls.

"Getou-sensei doesn't want to go down there with all the stinky monkeys," Nanako said, loudly.

"Na-"

"It's alright," Suguru said. "If you want to take a train back."

You felt Mimiko lean her head against yours. The girls were not quite yet nine. They would get heavy if you carried them for long, but you'd carried heavier.

"Let's walk for a bit," you said, drawing up to him so you were shoulder to shoulder, so the twins' knees would nearly knock together if it weren't for your mate's advantage in height. "Manami can come pick us up when we're done."

Suguru purred, in some kind of encouragement you thought, the deep sound rumbling out to encompass the four of you. You knew he hadn't brought it up because some of the curse users who were showing up were making you... territorial. Manami maybe wasn't entirely to blame. She was another alpha and had shown up when the bond-mark between you and Suguru was still new.

But Suguru had since made it very clear that she was lower in the hierarchy of the family than you were, which helped. A little. Enough that you were comfortable ordering her around for his comfort at least.

Manami still passed Suguru a tablet once she found you with a car. When you tried to glare at her in the mirror, he just handed it to you with a laugh.

Opening it filled you with dread. You didn't want to know what he was up to half the time. But it wasn't the worst thing you'd seen. And most of it was - oh.

"This is my project," you murmured, flipping through a document.

It wasn't very detailed. At best it could be called an outline of the information you'd sought, but you could fill in more of it.

Suguru leaned over your shoulder, pulling back from talking to the twins likely unwisely seated together in the front seat. He had rolled up his sleeves at some point and his skin where it brushed yours was very warm.

You glanced up at him, only for him to raise an eyebrow and hum in expectation.

You pressed your lips together and looked back at the tablet, slowly curling up with Suguru around it as he pointed out details and you made notes with a stylus.

He took it back when Manami said something you hadn't heard, but this time you let him, after giving him a stern look. "Nothing stressful," you reminded him lowly. Both of you knew it was more a hope than command, but he took it good naturedly.

He leaned forward to discuss a job with the other alpha and you leaned back, head on the sun-warmed leather seat, pressed thigh to thigh with Suguru, thinking of what was in the refrigerator to make for dinner, of how you would get around the school's - it was still weird to think of that as the marker for the sorcerer world, to be on the other side of "us and them" - monitoring in order to get the project going, wondering if it would be harder or easier to get Nanako to actually go to sleep after the day you'd had.

Who would have thought running off with a condemned criminal would turn out to be so domestic? It wasn't a new thought, but it certainly made it easier to pretend that this was not as bad as it could be. It was not as bad as it could be. Maybe there wasn't only blood at the end of the road.

Nanako called your name and you lifted your head up to see her squishing her head between the seat and the wall, hair all scrunched up against the plastic.

"Hmm?"

"Do you think Mimiko should dye her hair?"

"Does Mimiko want to dye her hair?"

The girls had decided on western style food for dinner and had finally quieted down enough that they were settled in front of the television with the workbooks one of the tutors Suguru tolerated had them working on.

Yet another reason to the move the project forward. For now, the girls had not yet divided the world around them into sorcerers and non-sorcerers. They were still receptive to genuine kindness from normal humans. But Suguru's distaste for the visitors was obvious to you and you didn't want to wait for the twins to start mirroring it to their tutors' faces.

You moved laundry from the washer to the dryer and filled the first machine up again while Suguru pulled ingredients down from the cabinets.

When you got back to the kitchen, it was your turn to sag against him, flopping to the floor and resting your head on his lower back when he went to rummage in the refrigerator for a drink.

"What?"

You let out a helpless giggle, all the thoughts you had quieted while in public rushing back now that you were back at home.

Suguru bit back a wide smile, the sort of genuine smile that reminded you why you'd left, made you glad that you'd followed him.

He sat on the floor at your side, arm propped up on one knee as he popped open a melon flavored pouch of vitamin jelly he'd found.

The sounds of Doraemon came from down the hall but neither of the kids made much noise. Still, you kept your voice low. "We're twenty-one with twin girls. I'm exhausted."

Suguru laughed, leaning over until his head was resting on top of yours. You just breathed in the scent of him, the faint remaining smell of sunlight and fresh water from the park which overlaid the traces of the inoffensive laundry soap you all used and over that his scent, shifting layers of pine and blackberry, mint, and white tea. You would know him anywhere.

You reached up and felt his forehead with the back of your fingers. Still warm, like you had worried it might be.

Suguru pulled your hand away, pressing his lips to your index finger and threading your fingers together on his lap.

"It's fine."

"Let me worry for you," you say. If there is no one else, let me be the one to remember you are human.

"Alright," he says, such a soft affirmation, using his thumb to massage circles on your still captured hand while he humors you.

All the words pile together at the base of your tongue, flooding up now that they are given permission. He's been working too hard - consuming curses from humans that make even you tempted to try your hand at the kind of murder that's more than just business, relocating to this temple in the last year, making sure that the operation is entirely under the radar so that he doesn't get caught before he's ready, managing the incredibly petty squabbling between the chairmen and leaders of the cults he's pulled together under his feet.

And it's not like you're not also stressed. You're not kidding when you say it's hard work parenting when you're technically still on the run. It's easy to transfer money so thankfully you don't have to do something as stereotypical and dastardly and inconvenient as drag actual bags of cash around, but at your insistence there are go-bags in your closet, one for each of you. You know Suguru has made that stupid little worm with the infinite stomach swallow things other than weapons.

Maybe there is money in there. Who knows. But the point is you're not the one that gets hit with dry heats on top of migraines and nausea so bad he can't eat, and you're not the one suffering through them just to make another point in front of the monkeys.

And you miss Satoru. You don't know why you're thinking of him so much today. Maybe because he always found a way to make Suguru laugh and it's getting harder and harder to do that these days. He spends too much time behind the faces he wears when he's in that stupid monk's uniform.

You eye the vitamin pack and Suguru rolls his eyes at you, squeezing more of the jelly into his mouth.

"We don't know if this one is going to go all the way," he reminds you. Which is probably why he picked that and not one of the calpico or canned teas. You swear he eats like an old man (or a child, you recalled Suguru and Satoru picking through bags of candy on the lawn, no middle ground). You'd learned to make shojin ryori dishes as a joke about the priest thing and because doing it calmed you down whenever you started panicking about what Suguru was doing at the rebranded Star Cult and what you were doing waiting at home like his stay-at-home alpha.

"The thing I hate most--" you hesitated but Suguru's clear apprehension spurred you on. "The thing I hate most is seeing you in pain."

He barely hesitates before he's pulled back enough to let you see the slightly licentious look on his face, a growl behind his words when he leans in close to your ear. "That's not what it felt like when you made me come screaming last time."

Immediately your face flares hot, rushing from your chest to the top of your head. You know he's trying to distract you. It doesn't stop you from whipping your head to the door and your breath going silent, shallow and quick. You're praying there are no approaching footsteps to match the rapid pattering of your heart in your ears.

There's nothing. Everything is right here in front of you, one hand clutching his stomach as tears of silent laughter spring to the corner of his eyes.

He's trying to be quiet as you are, cognizant of the kids not too far away, but a peal of laughter still escapes when he goes to take a breath. "Wish you could see your face."

It's very tempting to remind Suguru what his face looked like, flushed and panting, too strung out to look like anyone but himself, but you're not quite that shameless.

You're also not quite detached enough not to etch this face into your memory too. The one that looks like it comes from a different time and place entirely from anywhere you've been with Suguru before. You think that maybe this is what's on the other side of Suguru's poisoned dream.

Someone joyous and terrible, who does not need to understand their place on the altar of the world because it is already known, someone who understands without burden.

Yet it's distinctly immature the way he snickers at you trying to restore a bit of your composure by channeling the heat in your body away.

If anyone ever finds this memory, you will blame the impulsiveness of youth on the way you hiss out "maybe we should actually get you pregnant with twins and see who's laughing." It's not exactly fair to start something you can't finish - you can hear water boiling on the stove - but you can also hear the way the air catches in his throat and see red splashing across his cheeks like you've slapped him.

There's a tingle that goes down your neck when you watch Suguru shiver, even while your hands are already going to your mouth. "Sorry," you squeak out past your fingers.

Suguru coughed out a sheepish laugh, red slowly making its way to the tips of his ears. "Weren't you the one that just said two makes you tired? What are we going to do with four?"

Keep you out of trouble for a year?

"I don't know," you say instead, almost without thinking, still in shock at your own words. "People says babies are cute. We missed the twins' terrible twos so we'd get to do that."

"Who wants to experience temper tantrums?"

At that you scoffed your eyes, "Like you haven't seen someone way older through a tantrum before."

The red was finally fading from Suguru's cheeks as he rolled his eyes in agreement. He sucked thoughtfully on the supplement pack, sitting back against the wall. You knew you were thinking of at least one of the same people.

He stayed on the floor when you got up and dumped a package of pasta into the now roiling pot, stirring it doubtfully. It wasn't what you had grown up eating and even following a recipe you weren't always sure you had gotten things right. The kids seemed to think it was good enough though so you left it after dumping more salt into the water.

You settled back down next to him. So rare were the days when you got him, just him, all to yourself. No robes, no swallowing down bitter curses, no cruel, empty shape to his face when he returned.

The sun was starting to set.

You pressed your forehead to Suguru's temple, caressing his cheek and pulling him as close as he would allow. Something in him fell away, resistance or tension. He gave the vaguest shiver once more when you used your other hand to slip beneath the collar of his shirt and trace your fingers around the bite on the back of his shoulder.

It wasn't a sorcerer's mating. Suguru accepted your distance from the cults' cursework but would not risk the hold on his power. He'd wanted the mark though. You were not sure why.

He still seemed less on-edge when the inevitable scuffle came down the hall and you pulled apart with one last nuzzle.

"Can I have a snack?" Nanako asked, but you could see Mimiko hanging in her shadow for a second before she brought her workbook up with her and set it down on the ground at your side.

Suguru offered Nanako the rest of the vitamin supplement and she just wrinkled her nose at him. His eyes were soft when he heaved himself up with a sigh, stretching to treat you with a flash of his toned stomach.

He just seemed smug when you tsk'd at him and he went to start cutting up an apple for the girls to share.

You brought Mimiko over to the table where you pointed out the correct strokes on her kanji practice.

Dinner was a more subdued affair, children tired but satisfied in their adventures. The twins recount the boat ride. It seems to have satisfied Mimiko's curiosity but now Nanako wants to go back. There's a zoo in your future apparently, but also she likes the water. And clambering back and forth between the boats. She's got a delinquent streak in her, a confident irreverence that makes it all too easy to imagine some other way for how she'd come into your life.

Mimiko cajoles her, already intent on imitating Suguru's surface level decorum. Nanako's power has to do with pictures but Mimiko is the one who watches with sharp dark eyes.

It's disrespectful to the food to be filled with such dark feelings but you again feel a pulse of hate for the villagers you had never met. The ones who had locked such bright young girls in a cage. The ones who had likely been involved in their parents' deaths.

You're not glad that Suguru killed them all but you are glad that they have you now. Spilling pasta sauce across the table and pouring their salad on top of it so they have a hard time finishing both things and all.

More dishes, more laundry, then the children to brush their teeth while Suguru showers and then you do the same right after while he reads to them, telling them sorcerers stories of spirits and old heroes. It's a rhythm that is all too easy to follow. There is always something to do in the house and Suguru refuses "monkey" servants in his living space so you two do it all yourselves.

If you wanted, it would be easy to forget just how far you've stumbled from the life you once thought you would live.

Suguru's hair is so long it is still damp when you pull a comb through it, sitting cross legged on the low bed. It's left a wet patch in the middle of his back and you pull the shirt from his skin so it dries faster. Your knuckles brush the soft skin at the back of his neck when you lift his hair but it's so typical you are in one anothers' space he barely blinks.

How strange to be sentenced to death but, in these moments, no longer feel destined to die.

You twist layers of Suguru's hair around your fingers to keep it from frizzing up while he reads to you, book lying open in one broad palm while he turns the pages with his left hand.

It's a book of poetry. Suguru claims that practicing the careful cadences helps him when he has to speak at the cult. There is something rhythmic and hypnotic, quietly powerful and passionately mad about the speeches he makes to the masses, stepping into that role. But you like listening to him read because he does it without flinching, without forcing himself to passionately hate the hands that wrote the words. He does better when he doesn't see normal people. You've not quite figured out how to bring up the fact that non-sorcerers do most of the producing in the world and you're not sure how he expects modern life to survive the purge.

You suppose he doesn't, expect it to that is.

"-here I choose to dwell, the world in which I live, men have named a 'Mount of Gloom'. The color of the flower has already passed away while I set my gaze on trivial things-"*

His black hair is heavy like silk in your hands when you tug it out of the way to begin kneading into his back. Suguru's always been so beautiful. His shoulders are broad, his arms thick with muscle, his waist is wide too. He has a strong, solid silhouette built from years of fighting. He has scars, including the faded remains of the cross Toji had carved into his chest.

Sorcerers in this world did not often get a life of happiness.

Suguru put down the book in favor of pressing a kiss to the inside of your arm, pulling your fingers away from the scar. "You know having kids hurts, right?"

You buried your face in the back of his neck with a snort, rubbing your face into the soft sleep shirt and his solid back to scent your mate as he stroked the soft skin where his lips had just touched, wrapping both of his hands around yours so it was engulfed in his warmth, dipping his head to press his brow to your wrist. The wrong kind of hurt, masked again by a poor attempt at humor.

With your free hand you pressed circles into the muscle of his lower back and hips. Suguru folded forward with a low hum. He let you go so he didn't pull you over his shoulder, but his hand chased yours, fingers still tangled together for a moment over his shoulder.

"You always get tight when you're stressed and then you get headaches," you murmured. Still the wrong kind of hurt.

Suguru called your name. He lay the book in its nook within his bedside table and twisted around so that he was looking at you.

Looking at you with one of those half-stranger faces, as he often did when he wanted to lie to you. Only for it to become him again, only him, a flicker of something through his eyes.

"I'm fine," he said finally. "We knew that achieving my dream doing was going to be difficult."

You hadn't gone with him to change the world together. You also hadn't gone with him knowing that you could love someone this much. Even through this madness.

His cheek was soft and his lips softer when you kissed him. "I know."

Suguru's soft expression was the last thing you saw before using your technique to turn off the light. He huffed in faint amusement but didn't complain. He had not released you and you did not want to let him go.

You were already half tangled together before you laid side by side in the dark but as you always did, you curled around one another. Even if you did not start out this way, as long as you woke in the same bed beside your mate, it always ended up like this - twined together like choking vines, legs slotted together, arms tossed around one another.

Tonight Suguru hooked you close by your waist. His head you tucked under your chin, slowly resuming running your fingers through his hair, massaging circles at the base of his skull and rumbling in pleasure when he purred low and sleepy in response.

Even though I cannot help you, thank you for letting me take care of you.

You didn't know what mask he would put on tomorrow, but you knew who he was right now. It felt like stealing, all these moments and days when he was just with you, young and laughing and finding out who he was without the weight of a new world on his shoulders. Forgetting for a moment the blood on his hands.

No, most sorcerers did not get a life of happiness, but you would take what you could get and tuck it tight to your chest. No matter if it took longer and longer to find Suguru, no matter if one day you could still lose him.

*the poems are the end and start respectively of tanka 8 and 9 (Kisen Hoshi and Ono no Komachi) pulled by happy chance from the Hyakunin isshu which was an anthology collected by Fujiwara no Teika in 1235 and translated in 1917 by Clay MacCauley.

[primowishes]

//I love looking at character mentions on the wiki, because it's like you'll get one from a character, but if they're really significant to the character their voicelines will have like 2 - 3 mentions. And then there's Lyney and Lynette about each other:

[cak31ssuperi04]

Halloween.

[marklikely]

ok sorry i have to ask what’s with everyone saying gabriel the villain from malignant 2021 is trans. is he just that based

its hard to explain what exactly gabriel is but hes like. a conjoined twin brother / evil growth? on the female protagonist's brain and he only exists by possessing her body so since he's a male character in a female body hes kind of sort of (but also kind of not) canon trans

[ask-the-celestial-family]

With the whole Marianas thing, all I can think is "Hehe more parents for Eclipse!" hdsgjkhsl I feel bad for Pulsar though :( He had to witness whatever the Creator did to his siblings. It might be a bit mean but a part of me hopes that Pulsar's memories get partially erased/blocked out. For his own sake. -🐟 Anon

(Who said it was just his brothers?)

[vinegar-doppio-official]

guy at work so hot I saw him picking his nose and aside from a momentarily "wtf ew" his hotness remains as strong as ever

[themarychain]

i love love love car seat headrest but the songs remind me so much of g that it actually upsets m

[vigilskeep]

i love the hawke twins as much as anyone but they, more than basically any other potentially alive companion, will absolutely never show back up bc they each have 2 very different endings on top of being potentially dead, and 9 different canonical faces. and incidentally if your solution for the latter problem is that a cameo should just be their “default” appearances i’ll kill you.

[luminoustarlight]

As Fate Would Have It | DILF!Anakin Skywalker

Anakin Skywalker gets a new assistant, who also happens to be his favorite OnlyFans performer.

◂ previous ▸ chapter two

rating: explicit | pairing: anakin skywalker x afab!reader | wc: 3.7k | read on ao3

warnings: modern!au, undisclosed age gap, SMUT [use of toys (dildo and fleshlight), mutual masturbation, squirting, watching of pornography]

After midnight is Anakin’s favorite time of the day. His kids have been asleep since 8:30 pm— their weekday curfew— and he’s finally stopped working on the project he brought home from work. It kept him from watching 101 Dalmatians with Luke and Leia but “it needed to be done.” 

He completed it well after the twins went to sleep, his neck was aching, and he needed to unwind. Now, he’s settled on the left side of his king bed, back propped against the headboard and his tablet waiting for him on the nightstand. He’s been thinking about this all day. Ever since he got the notification at 1:48 p.m. that HoneySuckle uploaded a new video. 

While he was at work. On a very busy day, he might add. As much as he wanted to get away to watch it immediately, he couldn’t. But now he has uninterrupted time to enjoy himself and the woman he’s about to watch. 

Anakin watches HoneySuckle exclusively. For over three years now, he has been subscribed to her page for $7.99 a month, which is an absolute disgrace to the quality of content she puts out. That’s why he tips her at least $200 for each video. It’s a number that hardly means a thing to Anakin. But to HoneySuckle, it is everything. It’s a cushion for incidentals. For the flat tire on her Mini Cooper. The vet bill for her orange tabby, Panini. She has expressed her thanks to him in their private messages, but it never seems to be enough. 

Their casual conversations are never enough. 

It comes as a great surprise to Anakin to see that her newest video is dedicated to him. Him— Anakin Skywalker AKA skyguy81. AKA HoneySuckle’s biggest fan and number one supporter. 

Squirting for Sky 🖤

He’s never clicked on anything faster in his life. The edges of his brain are beginning to fog. The mere thought of Honey getting off to the thought of him makes goosebumps prickle along his skin and his cock begin to swell. But then he sees what she’s wearing. Or, not wearing for that matter. Usually, she’ll begin videos with a full set on. Whether it’s a lacy bra and panties, a teddy, or a babydoll, teasingly taking off her lingerie is part of her brand. 

Not in this video, though. In this new 23 minute video, she is wearing a black garter and thong with roses embroidered in the mesh along her hip bones. Sheer black stockings are pulled up to her thighs and as she spreads her legs— dear God— Anakin sees that her panties are crotchless. 

Every video is expertly angled so only the bottom half of her face is on camera. She’s mentioned to Anakin in the past that this is not her full time job and therefore some anonymity is important. He doesn’t need to see her whole face to know she is beautiful. 

“I bought this just for you,” Honey says directly to Anakin. “You said you liked black. I hope you like this.”  She goes to grab the vibrator next to the pink dildo on her bed. 

“I love it,” Anakin mumbles. Running her hand over one of her bare breasts, she turns on the vibrator. The familiar hum of the toy reminds Anakin to put on his headphones. Just in case. 

Now with that taken care of, Anakin can begin taking care of himself. It doesn’t take long for the guy to get hard when he’s watching Honey. Hell, he can just think about her and he’ll be horny. The melodic cadence to her voice, the angelic sounds she makes when she cums, the lustful desire to bury himself in her cunt. She is the only woman he has desired since his wife and he doesn’t even know her name. But he knows the curves of her body as if he’s felt them with his own two hands. God, how he wishes he could touch her, kiss her, pleasure her. 

It’s pathetic. He is pathetic for wanting the impossible. Anakin Skywalker is a smart man. A genius in many regards. Yet he’s delusional enough to think her messages might mean something. That this video dedicated to him means something.

Of course, it doesn’t. Everything about his conversations with Honey is transactional. It’s part of her job. That’s it. Nothing more. You’re not special. 

But fuck, does it make his cock hard thinking this is all for him. Well, this is for him. The title of the video says so. With her legs spread nice and wide, Anakin can see how wet she has become from the vibrator on her clit. 

Stiff and dribbling precum on his belly, Anakin wraps his long fingers around his equally long shaft. He swipes his palm over the tip to lubricate the rest of his dick. Honey has now turned off the vibrator and grabs the dildo. Despite its playful color, it’s a formidable size. A similar 7 inches to Anakin’s cock, she opens her mouth and the tip disappears. Then a little bit more… and a little more… until she’s gagging. She pulls it out of her mouth with a loud gasp. Messy strings of saliva fall on her chin and chest. 

“Fuck,” she breathes. “I love choking on your cock. Feeling it so deep in my throat until I can’t breathe.” 

This sends a jolt through Anakin’s whole body. His cock lurches in his hand and he knows all too well that his hand will simply not suffice tonight. He pauses Honey’s video and reluctantly gets off of bed to retrieve his Fleshlight from his hidden stash in the closet. Usually, his hand does just fine. He’s used to it by now. Being a single dad in his early forties and the CEO of his own company, he doesn’t have time to go on dates. He has one woman on his rolodex of hookup numbers and even then, he doesn’t contact her often. Usually it’s her who needs him. He prefers it that way, anyway. 

Anakin returns to his bed with the barely used Fleshlight in hand and immediately resumes the video. Honey continues to give the dildo a blowjob, making Anakin ache for it to be his cock in her mouth. He can only imagine how warm it is. How he’d make her relax so he can shove his entire length down her throat. How she’d sound choking on his dick and not some pink toy. 

Again, she holds it in her mouth until her lungs are screaming for air. Anakin ruts his hips up into his fist. He’s waiting to use the Fleshlight until she puts the toy in her cunt. 

Which is right now. She lines the tip of it to her opening, pushing the head in teasingly before removing it and dragging it along her folds. 

“Have you been good today? Do you deserve to fuck me?” The seductive nature of Honey’s voice is so familiar to Anakin, yet every time dirty talk drips from her lips, his spine tingles. 

“Please, Honey,” Anakin whispers, hovering the opening of the Fleshlight over his cock. “Put it in, baby.”

As if obeying his command, Honey pushes the toy into her hole. At the same time, Anakin lowers his own toy onto himself. The tight Fleshlight sucks in his dick and it damn near has Anakin’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. He’d forgotten what it feels like… how similar yet different it is to real pussy. Fuck, what he would do to have his cock in Honey’s actual cunt. The best he can do is use his overactive imagination. 

Honey is thrusting the dildo in and out of her and soft moans fill Anakin’s ears. He yanks the Fleshlight up and down—a lazy way of using it, he knows— but it does the job. “That’s it…” he breathes. His heartbeat is racing impossibly fast, chasing down an orgasm that is going to arrive far too soon. “I fuck you so well, don’t I, Honey?” 

“Mm…” she whimpers, pushing the toy deeper and further into her.  “Your cock’s so big… fills me up so well. Feels so good!” 

“You have no idea how good I could make you feel,” Anakin growls. In his mind she’s on her back, just as she is now. Her knees are pushed up to her ears and Anakin is thrusting into her tight hole to no end. He’s so deep, he can see himself in her stomach. He kisses her, finally tasting her on his own lips. Their tongues are doing a dance, his fingers are on her clit for maximum pleasure. And she’s screaming his name. She can’t believe how good he fucks. How he, at 42 years old, can last as long as he has. “I’m not fucking geriatric,” he’d say. He’d make her cum at least twice before he does, just to prove a point. 

Honey then takes the dildo out of her cunt and brings it back up to her mouth. Anakin removes the Fleshlight. She hollows her cheeks around it whilst reaching for the vibrator. She turns it back on and returns it to her clit. Her toes curl at the sensation and a moan is muffled by the cock in her mouth. 

“Let me hear you,” Anakin encourages, no matter how silly and pointless it is to do so. “Please, Honey. I love hearing you moan.” 

She takes the dildo out of her mouth to announce that she’s going to cum. “Oh, fuck. Fuck!” 

She’s squirming on the bed, mouth shaped in that glorious ‘O’. As her orgasm rattles through her body, she keeps the vibrator on her swollen nub and returns the dildo to her pussy. Anakin follows suit and sheathes his cock once again, thrusting his hips up to the speed Honey is fucking herself. 

“I hope you…fuck, that feels good,” she is interrupted by her own pleasure. It’s her authenticity that Anakin adores and enjoys the most. It never feels like she’s performing. “I hope you’re making yourself feel as good as I feel. Are you fucking your hand? Your mattress? A pillow? I bet you wish you were in my tight cunt. Don’t you?” 

“Yes,” Anakin breathes. He is on fire now. He’s not sure the coil in his belly could get any tighter. He’s going to cum soon and Honey hasn’t even squirted yet. There’s five minutes left of the video. “You wouldn’t believe—ah, fucking hell— wouldn’t believe how badly I want to fuck you.” 

“I’m gonna squirt! Oh my God…please cum for me. Cum while I squirt for you!” Honey removes the dildo as the clear liquid sprays from her cunt. Anakin abandons the Fleshlight and takes over with his tried and true hand. He’s pumping quickly, he’s mesmerized by Honey and how she squirts a little more each time she puts the dildo back inside of her and pulls it back out. Her back is arching off of the bed as she drops both toys and cums one last time. 

Anakin is cumming now, too. His sack twitches up toward him while he releases his load on his belly. He stuffs a fist into his mouth to silence his moan. He bites down on his own hand with fervor, and it hurts. He isn’t completely finished when he hears her utter the words ‘last video.’ 

Wait, what? 

He needs to go back. Surely, he didn’t hear her correctly. 

“I hope you all enjoyed yourselves while watching. I know I did. This is a bit of a last hurrah for me. I’m starting a new job next week and I just don’t think I’ll have the time to upload, so this might be my last video. Thank you for all of the support over the last three years. I had a great time. Kisses, HoneySuckle.” 

And that’s the end of it. Anakin is stunned. He watches her video again. And then once more. There's a lilt to her voice that makes Anakin think she is happy to be done with this. He should be happy for her. But he hangs onto the word ‘might’.  

Honey said this might be her last video. Anakin shouldn’t feel so fucking relieved that his favorite OnlyFans performer might still upload videos. What is wrong with him? He has no real connection to her whatsoever yet he feels disappointed by the idea of not having her videos in his life anymore. 

Fuck it. He sends her a $500 tip, a little message and goes to wash up. 

.

.

.

Panini is pressed against your side, purring contentedly while you stroke his back absently. You’re wrapped in a sherpa cozy in bed while watching The Great British Bake Off. It’s your bedtime show. You’ve probably seen every series at least 3 times, simply because it’s the show you put on to go to sleep. But most of the time, you end up staying up to watch it as if you’ve never seen it before. 

Your phone lights up with a notification. You glance at it but immediately do a double take. You grab your phone off of your nightstand and stare at the screen with your jaw dropped. 

Skyguy81 sent you a tip!

$500

You pause in the middle of Prue Leith giving her thoughts on someone’s Showstopper. You swipe right to open the message.

That was spectacular, Honey. From the lingerie to the beautiful way you cum. You certainly know how to put on a show. I must admit, I was a bit disappointed to hear that it might be your last video. You are the only performer I watch. I will miss you. I wish you the best of luck with your new endeavor. 

And I know what you are going to say. “It’s too much.” It is not. Please accept the tip as a token of my appreciation. You helped me feel less lonely on the days I needed someone the most. - Sky 

Why do you feel like you’re about to cry? Sky has been your top supporter since you began uploading videos during COVID. It was just supposed to be a way to make ends meet. To pay off the student loans and any other financials that came up. The tips started off relatively small. $50 here, $75 there. He was the first to give you a $100 tip. 

Then, after about a year, he upped it to $200 after each video. Your thank you messages to him turned into conversations. Short ones, never deep or personal, yet you feel like you know him. You feel like…no, it’s silly. You feel like he could be a friend. If you both weren’t hiding behind a screen and fake names, maybe you actually could be. 

You begin typing a response. 

Sky- I am going to say it anyway. THAT IS WAY TOO MUCH!!! You have been far too generous to me over the years. I don’t deserve it. 

 He replies in a matter of seconds. 

I have to disagree, Honey. I wish I could do more for you. 

Like what? 

I would take you out to a nice dinner. Perhaps share a bottle of wine while we get to know each other. 

Would you take me home after?

Whose home? 

Whichever you’d like. 

I’d take you back to your house and leave you with a goodnight kiss.

That’s all? 

You would like more? 

What the hell are you doing? Are you actually flirting with this man? He could be 60 years old and bald! Not that there’s anything wrong with being 60 or bald, but come on. You’re in your 20s. You have to have some limit. You stare at his username. Skyguy81. Maybe 81 is his birth year? So, that would put him at 42. 42 isn’t too bad… 

Oh, what the hell. It’s not like you’re actually gonna meet this guy, right? 

Well, I might wear something special underneath my dress. Something that I paid for with the money you’ve given me. Wouldn’t you want to see it? 

Yes. I would. 

What would you do if you took me home? 

When you don’t hear back from Sky after thirty minutes, you assume he fell asleep. It is nearly 1 a.m. on a Thursday night. Or is it early Friday morning? Regardless, he probably has work in the morning. 

With a rather loud yawn, you decide it’s time for you to go to sleep, too. 

.

.

.

Luke and Leia barge into Anakin’s room at 7:30, dressed and ready to go to school while their dad is still fast asleep. He must have slept through his alarm. Luke is poking him in the side and urging him to wake up. 

“Alright, I’m up,” he grumbles, scrubbing his hands down his face. “Have you two eaten?” 

Leia nods. “Eggos and orange juice.” 

“I wanted a Toaster Strudel,” Luke says. 

“And I told him we don’t have any Toaster Strudels,” replies his twin sister. 

“Yes we do! You just didn’t look hard enough.” 

Anakin pinches the bridge of his nose. He feels a headache coming on. He didn’t drink last night, so why does he feel hungover? “Ahsoka ate the last one when she was here on Tuesday, remember?” 

“Oh yeah,” Luke recalls. 

“Dad, we’re gonna be late for school if you don’t get out of bed,” Leia says. 

Anakin checks the time on his phone. Your message from last night is at the bottom of his notifications. He already has five work emails to answer. His calendar pings with reminders about meetings and his assistant’s retirement party. “Bring your things to the front door. I’ll be down in a few minutes.” 

In the rush of getting himself dressed, not only does he put on two different pairs of socks but two different pairs of shoes, too. He doesn’t realize this until after he enters the office and Dorothy, attentive as ever, points it out as he’s walking past her desk and into his office. 

Dorothy is 74 years old, a widow, and owl fanatic. She has been Anakin’s assistant since he started the company 20 years ago. “Did you get dressed in the dark, Mr. Skywalker?” 

Even after two decades of Anakin’s insistence on calling him by his first name, Dorothy continues to defy him. “I overslept,” Anakin answers. “I was rushing to get ready because you know how Leia gets when she’s late to anything.” 

Dorothy nods. “Yes, she is the most punctual 9 year old I know. I presume you did not eat breakfast.”

“No, I didn’t.” Anakin opens his emails. 

“Why don’t I get you an egg sandwich from Dexter’s after I retrieve a matching pair to one of your shoes.” 

“I didn’t ask you to do that.”

“You didn’t have to.” 

Anakin cracks a smile. Dorothy has always been two steps ahead of Anakin. She’s been somewhat of a mother figure to him over the years. She believed in him when no one else did. How many people are going to put their faith in a cocky 22 year old with wild engineering innovations? Dorothy was there when his wife passed away and nannied the twins off and on for a few years while Anakin regained his bearings. His heart contracts. He is truly going to miss her. “Do you have to retire, Dorothy?” 

“I’m afraid so,” Dorothy replies with a bittersweet smile. “You will be just fine. And I trust my successor will attend to your needs just as well as I have. I picked her myself. I know exactly what you need in an assistant, Mr. Skywalker.” 

Did Dorothy just wink at Anakin before leaving his office? What the hell does she have up her sleeve? 

.

.

.

Gold and brown leaves dance across the concrete in the courtyard of Skywalker Enterprises. The autumn air bites at your cheeks and you’re thankful you decided to wear a beanie along with your plaid pea coat. 

You notice Dorothy’s silver hair before the rest of her as she walks toward you with two cups of something hot in her hands. “Good morning, Y/N.” she hands you the cup. 

“Good morning, Dorothy,” you reply with a smile. You lift off the lid to smell the contents. The steam tickles your nose before recognizing the warm spices of Chai. “You remembered my drink order?” 

“Of course.” Dorothy sits across from you. “I trust you went over the files I sent you regarding Mr. Skywalker? How are you feeling about the job?” 

You take a meager sip of your Chai latte. It’s still too hot to drink. “I read all of them at least three times. He doesn’t seem too high maintenance.”

“Far from it,” Dorothy replies. 

“But…” you begin, wondering if you should even mention it. 

“What is it, dear?” 

“I just find it a little strange that I haven’t met him. I would’ve assumed he’d be part of the hiring process. Isn’t it important we get along?” 

“Oh, don’t worry about that. Anakin gets along with everyone! He’s a charmer,” Dorothy sips on her drink. “He entrusted me with finding a replacement for myself because I know him better than anyone. I know his needs better than he knows them. And you, my dear, have shown you are more than capable to take over. Your references spoke very highly of you.” 

Right. Your references— one of which was your best friend who pretended to be a famous influencer who you “assisted” for 2 years after college. The other was a family you nannied for for only 2 weeks while the wife was out of town and the dad thought he could pull off some fantasy of fucking the nanny. The only good thing that came out of it was him telling you he’d give you a stellar reference for your next job. Turns out he wasn’t lying. 

“So, I’ll start on Monday? By myself? No shadowing or anything?” 

Dorothy nods. “I will officially be retired by 5 p.m. today. After which, Mr. Skywalker is yours.”

Don’t you wish. You’ve seen photos of him in Forbes. It’s an understatement to say he’s handsome. And it would be a lie to say you didn’t apply for the job because of his looks. By some miracle you were chosen out of hundreds of applicants and hired. You’ve signed the papers already. You’re officially on the Skywalker Enterprises payroll. Of course, you’ll be on probation for 90 days but Dorothy seems confident you’ll be a good fit. 

Hopefully you will live up to Anakin Skywalker’s expectations.

remember to reblog and leave comments to support authors!

◂ series masterlist ▸ chapter two

[thebeesareback]

I just finished the audio book for Donna Tartt's novel The Secret History, so naturally I had to have a lil scroll to see what everyone thought on Tumblr. To add to the discourse: (spoilers, obviously)

Also trigger warning: incest, abuse, murder, alcoholism

Why is Tumblr so in love with Henry Winter?! He murders the farmer, Bunny, and possibly tries to kill Charles. He's manipulative and may well try to make Richard take the fall (har har) for Bunny's death. In the garden scene, he admits to being a psychopath/sociopath. Oh, and he's unbelievably pretentious

Also, why are there so many cute pictures of the twins hanging out? Their relationship was strained, incestuous, co-dependent, abusive. The whole uwu thing baffles me

Richard has a very obvious foot fetish and nobody is talking about it

The novel is quite funny, and I wish more people picked up on that. Most of the humour comes from Francis - the pinz nez stays ON during sex; no, Bunny's parents weren't very upset when one of their grandchildren ruined Francis' scarf, they were preoccupied by their missing son; and there's a throwaway line where the art students eat sushi with paintbrushes instead of chopsticks. I also liked when the twins panicked after Bunny's murder and decided to start repotting tulips

The farmer is referred to by name twice. Once in a newspaper, once by Bunny. Strange to think that he's the person in the squad who might actually have a conscience. Incidentally, Milo, the golden retriever who finds Bunny's body, has his name mentioned more frequently.

Richard is a smelly, badly dressed misanthrope. As is Henry, and Charles towards the end. Francis, Camilla and Hampden itself provide the (admittedly gorgeous) dark academia aesthetic, but if you want to end that dream, remember how terrible everything would have smelled. I guess the difference between appearance and reality is a pretty big theme

Julian is very creepy, obviously, but I was surprised that he wasn't more involved in the plot. He seems like exactly the sort of person to start a cult. I'd also like to know if he and Henry were in a sexual relationship, because we see them kiss once and then it's never mentioned again

Foreshadowing is done EXCELLENTLY through the book. There were a few characters who were described as ghostly at the start, and I THINK they're the ones who survive. Also, Tartt loves her pathetic fallacy (not phallusy).

Time is very strange. If you bothered to plot out all of the events, I don't think it quite makes sense. Term starts in September, say Richard joins Julian's classes in early October? That means all the picnics, the Sunday walks with Bunny, the trips to Francis' house, all happen over about five weeks, leading to the 12th November when Charles, Henry and Francis kill the farmer. Unreliable narrator, I guess

A lot of things about Richard's character make more sense when you realise the abuse he grew up experiencing and witnessing. Poor Ms Papen. Odd that Richard's parents don't visit him when he's in hospital

Funny that everyone is surprised when the twins' incest comes out. Like, they had an orgy at the start of the baccanal. Call me a prude, but I wouldn't attend an orgy with a family member

I would go for girls' night with Judy Poovey

Also, the book was published in 1992. Does anyone know when Prince Charles and Camila Parker Bowles went public with their relationship? Seems like an unbelievable coincidence otherwise

If anyone has an actual criteria for identifying alcohol abuse/alcoholism, please lmk if any of the main six characters AREN'T alcoholics. I'm pretty sure I got liver cirrhosis and lung cancer just from reading this book

[tobiasdrake]

Incidentally, we can't really talk about pragmatism without talking about Future Trunks.

Krillin is a devious and underhanded martial artist, but still a martial artist. Trunks is an assassin. He goes straight for the throat at every opportunity. He's not here to fight; He's here to kill.

Much like his father, Trunks is not a martial artist. Every bit Vegeta's son, he's naturally gifted and has already become a Super Saiyan by both of his first appearances - in the story, when he fights Frieza on Earth, and also chronologically in Trunks the Story: A Lone Warrior.

I can't really say he's untrained. He was trained in the basics by Gohan. But Gohan is also not a martial artist; He's had one year and six months of proper martial arts training. One year from Piccolo and six months from Krillin.

Gohan's a fighter, guided by emotion moreso than technique. So there's a limit to how much Trunks can learn from him. Even Gohan admits that he's a poor substitute for his dad.

This, I should note, is a meaningful admission from Gohan because this chapter was published at the very beginning of the Cell Games. Gohan outright saying "I wanted to follow in my dad's footsteps but the clothes aren't enough" sets up an important contrast to the Gohan of the present time who has had that time with Goku and is ready to take his place.

But his concession of inadequacy is important for how we interpret Trunks as well. Trunks knows the stuff. He can perform Bukujutsu. Throw ki blasts. Power up into a Super Saiyan. But he's not Goku or Krillin or Yamcha or Tenshinhan; Like Gohan and Vegeta, he is a fighter, not a martial artist.

His heart is in the right place, but he's reckless and foolhardy. Chomping at the bit for a piece of vengeance.

This recklessness carries into his journey to the past. He never quite learns from his brief offscreen shitstomp by the Twins. He returns to a point in history just after Goku's return from space. Historically, this was a key moment in history where Goku showed up in the nick of time to save Earth from Frieza and his father King Cold. Which should technically be Great King Cold as it's Cold-Daio but he's far from the first king to have his Greatness dropped in translation, eh Piccolo?

But when Goku's late to the party, Trunks starts to worry and decides to step in himself.

Look at him. The spitting image of his father, full of piss and vinegar.

It's here that we get to see Trunks as a fighter for the very first time. Even chronologically; In Trunks the Story, they skip most of the action; It's very brief.

I mean. It's an absolutely hilarious joke that we see Trunks flying off half-cocked to go get revenge and then he's waking up from a coma on the very next page. Amazing cutaway gag.

But we're here to talk about Trunks's DNA as a fighter, so Frieza offers us the first material we have to work with. And Trunks? He does not fuck around.

Your soldiers are dead. Who's next?

You're dead. Who's next?

Your father's dead. We done here?

Trunks gives zero shits. In the span of two chapters, he massacres Frieza, Cold, and all of their soldiers without an ounce of hesitation. He is not playing.

He was even paying attention to the part where Frieza can survive grievous amounts of harm and come back. He takes great care to thoroughly and utterly annihilate every last bit of Frieza. Taking no chances.

Trunks isn't here to fight. He's here to kill. He is not interested in a protracted martial arts bout.

This fight, incidentally, also gives us a moment to talk about Trunks's sword. Cold-Dumbass thinks Trunks's sword is the key to his power.

He's an idiot. There's a reason he only exists for like three chapters and one page of a fourth. This man doesn't even understand how weapons work in anime.

Japan and the West have very different relationships with weapons. When Westerners think of weapons, we think of guns. Even when we write medieval weapons, we treat them like guns. Guns are disposable tools that bestow killing power upon their wielder. Any average Joe with a gun suddenly becomes a lethal warrior.

But Japan has a rich history and philosophy baked into their culture surrounding weapons and their role in martial arts. In anime, a weapon does not grant power; It manifests power. The weapon is an extension of its wielder. It's a means by which the wielder expresses their own strength.

In Trunks's hands, that sword can cut through Frieza. Because Trunks is powerful, and his might outshines Frieza's.

In Cold's hands, however, that sword is harmless. Because Cold is weak and cowardly. (Uh, relative to Trunks.) He has no power to express.

But Goku is strong. Goku knows power intimately, far beyond Trunks's understanding. And so Trunk's sword, his expression of power, is useless against Goku.

This is what Trunks's sword means, to him and to the story. It's an extension of his character and his strength; The means by which he delivers his killing force. Which is precisely what makes this moment so devastating.

When 18 breaks Trunks's sword, she breaks Trunks. The damage to his blade is honestly not that severe. It could probably be reforged. But the damage to Trunks's self-image, to his psyche, is unshakable.

Trunks never uses his sword again. He leaves it on the plane here.

And then we never see it again. Instead, Trunks decides to pursue greater martial arts training alongside his father, following in Vegeta's footsteps.

But he never quite loses his assassin streak. Though he begins to develop his abilities as a fighter from this point forward, Trunks is goal-oriented. He wants to kill the Twins. He doesn't care how that happens.

In the original version of these events, before Cell further altered the timeline, those blueprints were the key to Trunks's victory against the Twins of his timeline.

Though Cell has no idea how Trunks pulled off this victory despite being too weak to defend himself from Cell himself, the discovery of Gero's lab offers us a possible explanation.

The Twins have shutdown switches built into their systems. Though 17 destroyed the remote Gero built, Bulma is able to use these blueprints to build a new one.

So there's a solid implication that the weaker Trunks of Cell's timeline took Bulma's remote home with him and disabled the Twins that way. Again: He's not here to fight. He's here to kill. It doesn't matter how he does it.

...well, I guess it does matter 'cause that Trunks got wasted by Cell five minutes later.

Point is, Trunks wears his goal-oriented ruthlessness on his sleeve. He's not driven by pride of by love of the art. He has a job he's here to do.

However that single-minded focus, that determination to get it done, also holds him back. Trunks has never had proper martial training. He's been taught by Future Gohan, who is not a martial artist. And he's... taught himself near Vegeta. His developed his abilities and increased his strength, but he doesn't know fighting the way Goku or Krillin or Yamcha or Ten do. Nor does he have Vegeta's natural brilliance and general understanding.

Trunks, for all his strength and all his determination and all his killing instinct, is an amateur. We all know what happened to him in the last fight he ever fought here in the present.

Vegeta breaks the limits of the Super Saiyan and realizes that this power is good but comes at a cost, so he should only do it sparingly.

Goku breaks the limits of the Super Saiyan and realizes this form sucks and is stupid, and decides to go a different route entirely.

But Trunks breaks the limits of the Super Saiyan and goes "AWWW YEAH THIS IS THE SHIT GIMME THAT POWER" because he doesn't know. He has a killer's instinct, not a martial artist's. He's never been trained in technique.

We see, over the course of this series, both Trunks's strengths and his weaknesses as a fighter. In every altercation, he goes straight for the throat. Which is brutally effective when he has the power to back it up but Trunks, more than anyone, is vulnerable to a crushing defeat if he doesn't have the Power Level to back it up. He has nothing else.

Still, he gets to go out on a high note. His final chapter sees him return to the future, not with the remote but with the great strength he gained in the Room of Spirit and Time. And he gets to clean house his way - slaughtering the Twins efficiently and thoroughly, in true Trunks fashion.

And also getting Cell for good measure.

Godspeed, killer. You were the best your world had left to offer but you rose to the occasion, and that's the most that could be asked of anyone.

[muzyoshi]

Miles Edgeworth's Secret

This post is purely for documentation purposes, and also to inform anyone who may not be aware. This post will contain SPOILERS for the end of Phoenix Wright: Trials & Tribulations, so proceed with caution.

During Case 5, Bridge to the Turnabout, while playing as Edgeworth, you are presented the opportunity to peer into Iris' heart. Specifically in regards to a secret she is withholding from Phoenix, someone she was romantically involved with. During which, if the player fails to present the correct evidence specifically for the second Psyche-Lock, an interesting conversation concerning the nature of secrets occurs.

I have seen talk of this dialogue, but no footage or screenshots, so I took the liberty of getting them myself. The full conversation and my further thoughts will be found under the cut.

You MUST present incorrect evidence during the second Psyche-Lock. This dialogue is laughably easy to miss, which is why I could find zero footage of it. (Sorry if the formatting for this sucks)

(Interesting to note: the music stops playing here.)

Incidentally, Iris' secret is that she developed romantic feelings for Phoenix while dating him in college (disguised as her twin sister). Edgeworth affirms her thoughts, confirming that he does indeed have a secret of similar nature deep within his heart and soul; "It takes one to know one." It cannot be said what exactly this secret of his is, but every real plot point behind Edgeworth has been more or less resolved by this point in the series. He found his path as a prosecutor, the truth behind his involvement in the DL-6 incident was concluded, so... What's left? Reading between the lines, this only really seems to lead us to one answer. It has something to do with romantic feelings. I truly can't see it being anything else, even with a critical mind.

Just mere moments ago, Iris had inquired as to what Edgeworth and Phoenix' relationship was. Edgeworth (famously) responds that Wright is a "dear and indispensable friend". Wonder if Iris gleamed something deeper from that comment, then? ;P Keep in mind: she makes these comments directly because Edgeworth avoided presenting Phoenix Wright's profile.

"he just like me fr" - iris probably

Now, just for completion's sake, let's see what happens when you present Phoenix's profile and break the Psyche-Lock.

I have a lot of thoughts regarding this string of text from the two of them. This is a huge reach from an admittedly shipper-crazed brain, but aren't Edgeworth's retorts here... interesting? He does not know this girl, but he knows that the two of them are important to one another. We can assume it's likely that he is pushing for this for Wright's sake, rather than Iris'. At this point it's fair to say that Edgeworth has some basic understanding of her secret (the feelings, at least), and he doesn't benefit from her telling Phoenix her secret. So why is he adamant that she does it? Especially when he's, apparently, holding a secret of similar nature himself? Projecting, perhaps?

"But it's pointless..." "Why would you say that?"

Why indeed.

(EDIT) I was thinking about this feverishly, and I had another thought. What if the "darkness in his heart" and his "secret" has something to do with jealousy? Still in context of romantic feelings... it starts to make sense that this could fit into the puzzle as well. By this point it was already established to Edgeworth that Phoenix and Iris share an intimate connection of some kind, and with all of this pressuring (including the words the two of them share before Edgeworth leaves the Detention Centre), it sort of adds up. "Uncovering the truth" in order to "get rid of the deep-seated darkness in [his] heart" - could this refer to closure? As in, if Iris comes forth to Phoenix Wright with her secret, and there is some level of reciprocation, would this make Edgeworth's own secret/feelings "pointless" to confess? I wonder.

One last note I'd like to make is that this is the first time we view Edgeworth through the 'protagonist lens', and that a great deal of care was put into having the player truly feel like they are Miles Edgeworth in this moment. His mannerisms, choice of words and thought patterns are decidedly very different than Phoenix's when you are in control of them, as I'm sure most people would agree. Therefore, I feel comfortable proposing that a lot of what he says here isn't filler, and in fact is very deliberately worded.

I think this post also deserves a spot here.

Diehard Narumitsu/Wrightworth shippers are likely already aware of this conversation's existence. However, due to the circumstances necessary to see it, I wasn't able to find any screenshots. I hope this was interesting to read, at least... Thanks for reading!

[dimespin]

I was rereading your amazing worldbuilding and ended up pondering a bit about Kee and Buzz the alligator hydra. 1) Do either of them find the fact they can be socially separate on the internet something freeing? 2) Do you think as alligator hydra get involved with tech, do you think it'd be more likely for them to share an account or have separate accounts for each twin? 3) As someone who has migraines, does Kee get any of the "migraine hangover" parts or is it all Buzz?

As far as the in-universe internet is concerned, Kee is basically a cryptid - guy you only know exists because Buzz says he's an alligator hydra so, there's got to be another guy, right? There's another face near his in his pfp so???

The separateness of their online identities is just incidental to them having almost completely non-overlapping interests, with Buzz loving to debate people and Kee liking media like tv and movies. It hasn't occurred to either of them that being socially separate could or would be either possible or desirable - especially since Kee doesn't like talking to people very much. As a singular human he would have been a rarely-online loner with too many streaming service subscriptions and a letterboxd account.

Instead his brother seems to be the main one with an online footprint but his likes have an odd amount of chill nature photography and fanart for movies he says he's never watched, and sometimes he types completely differently but only to ask if anyone knows the name of a song that goes like [voice clip that sounds exactly like the song but only one instrument at a time and you can hear outdoor noises]

I think for their species it'll always be up to each pair to decide what makes sense, based on what they're trying to do online and why. But at the same time because their species social adaptations are slightly askew of human psychology the solutions might not always go as expected regardless of whether they present separate or combined accounts.

Like Ani and Adler who have separate email addresses... that are both handled and answered by Ani, except when he thinks it actually warrants getting Adler to form the response instead of just telling him about it later when he's not otherwise occupied.

Kee feels some of the postdrome symptoms that I'd say are more secondary rather than the ones that are part of the course of the migraine - like Buzz's nausea makes it hard for either of them to stay hydrated, so Kee feels the side effects of dehydration, ironically including sometimes getting a mild non-migraine headache of his own. He also finds Buzz's migraines unnerving since it makes them both vulnerable, so he's quietly on high alert the whole time so when it's over he's pretty exhausted. He doesn't get the body aches, fatigue and difficulty concentrating though.

[evenstar]

TOKYO BABYLON FST: BOX

what's poppin TyoBabi fandom, I got a present for you

.zip File Download: DISCS 1 & 2 (109MB)

This FST is basically an in-depth run down of the collection of songs that were sung/mentioned/in the "VOL. 7/BOX" chapter of Tokyo Babylon 5, with some info about the artists and songs themselves. This, as far as I know, is the most thorough run-through of the music of "BOX" on the English web! I've divided it into two "discs", the first being the songs mentioned themselves, and the second being a few fun related extras. You can check out the second disc over on Radio Free T.Y.O, if you're interested ♥

Ginza no Koi no Monogatari

銀座の恋の物語 - "Ginza Love Story" 石原裕次郎・牧村旬子 - Ishihara Yuujirou and Makimura Junko mp3 download || youtube

The song that Seishirou and Hokuto are pouring their very souls into to perform in the beginning of the chapter. Released in 1961, this a smoky, jazzy duet typical of its time, telling the story of two star-crossed lovers, one in Tokyo and one in Ginza. It was an immediate hit, even having a movie based upon it made, starring Ishihara-san in the lead role. It's a staple duet in karaoke even to this day.

Nakanaide

泣かないで - "Don't Cry" 舘ひろし - Tachi Hiroshi mp3 download || youtube

The song that the random selector spits up for Subaru to sing, which Sei-chan subsequently picks up after sending him off to buy cigarettes/exorcise the OL. This was released in 1984, by Tachi Hiroshi, a singer and actor who became quite the sensation when he had a starring role in 西部警察 (Seibu Keisatsu; "Western Police") -- incidentally, directed by the abovementioned Ishihara-san, as you'd have it. "Nakanaide" was a hit, coming in 59th on the ORICON's 1984 top singles list. It's from his seventh album In the Mood.

Nanpasen

難破船 - "Shipwreck" 中森明菜 - Nakamori Akina m4a download || youtube

The song that the OL ghost sings. A dark and heartfelt song about a dying love, it was a massive hit when it was released in 1987, shooting straight to the top of the ORICON charts (as Nakamori-san's 17th number one hit), and has been a karaoke regular since then, just as the OL says in the chapter. Originally written and performed by the very respected Kato Tokiko for her 最後のダンスパーティ (Saigo no Dance Party; "Last Dance Party") album of 1984; she personally requested that Nakamori-san perform the song. It's been covered countless times, including by the original singer/songwriter and the cover artist themselves.

Daite...

抱いて… - "Hold Me..." 松田聖子 - Matsuda Seiko mp3 download || youtube

Not actually sung, but the OL ghost suggests she'd like to sing it next. A dramatic and emotional slice of idol pop from the Eternal Idol herself, Matsuda Seiko (who also performs "Who's That Boy", found on Single White). Released in 1987 as a promo-only single from her fifteenth studio album, 1988's Citron. Despite never being released as an official single, it's one of Matsuda's more popular songs, especially karaoke-wise. It's rather interesting that the OL picks a Matsuda song directly after a Nakamori Akina track -- the pair were notorious rivals in the 80s, supposedly even in love.

Benkyo no Uta

勉强の歌 - "Study Song" 森高千里 - Moritaka Chisato mp3 download || youtube

The song Hokuto is singing when Subaru attempts to sneak back into the karaoke box. Released in 1991, it peaked at #4 on the ORICON charts, and was remixed on Moritaka's second remix album as ザ・勉強の歌 (Za・Benkyo no Uta; "The・Study Song"). It was used as the opening theme to the anime TV series "Mischievous Twins: The Tales of St. Clare's". It's a totally gimmicky song (complete with voguing in the very weird video clip), though cheerful and catchy, so its popularity on the karaoke circuit at the time shouldn't surprise anyone. (You just know that Hokuto unironically adored this song, and drove Subaru batty by singing it at every opportunity.)

Wakaretemo Suki na Hito

別れても好きな人 - "Beloved Even if We're Separated" ロス・インディオス＆シルヴィア - Los Indios & Silvia mp3 download || youtube

The song that Hokuto announces Subaru should sing with Seishirou as punishment for being late. Another staple in the duets section of karaoke, still, this 1979 release was actually a cover. The song was released by two Toshiba EMI artists, Matsudaira Kemeko and the Purple Shadows, respectively, in 1969. In October 1975, Los Indios released a single-voice version, and in 1979 it was rearranged as a male and female duet, with some lyrics changed slightly. The song was an instant hit, and by 1980, it had sold a million copies.

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

by Steven Zeitchik

Those comments sparked a backlash at the time. But many liberal Jews in Hollywood, media and tech identified with her remarks.

To some non-Jews I talked to, today’s news was just a case of a tribal rooting interest not going our way. “Oh well, you’ll get the next one,” went their vibe. But when a Jewish leader this popular from a state so necessary gets passed over, it becomes more than just a matter of losing a round of identity-politics poker — it touches an existential nerve.

Some Jews have also noted that in choosing Walz, Harris was simply trying to stay away from raising Gaza as an issue. But outside of antisemitic projection, why would it do that? The idea that a candidate would automatically want to talk more about Israel simply because he’s Jewish raises ugly tropes of dual loyalty, or worse.

Wary of seeming killjoyish, some liberal Jewish Americans also sought to find a silver lining — at least now Jews wouldn’t be blamed for administration failures, they said. They cited The Atlantic’s Yair Rosenberg, one of the most eloquent expositors of the double standards applied to Shapiro, who in a recent piece expressed some reservations about what a Shapiro vice presidency would bring.

“Anti-Semitism conceives of Jews as clandestine puppeteers who control the world’s governments and economies, fueling political and social problems,” he wrote. “A Jewish vice president would provide the perfect canvas for these fevered fantasies — a largely ceremonial figure onto whom bigots could nonetheless project all of their conspiracies, casting him as the real power behind the Resolute Desk.”

Rosenberg has forgotten more about the history of antisemitism than most of us will ever know. But this train of thought has always struck me as self-defeating. The response to fears of prejudice can’t be, “Let’s hide the Jews to prevent us from finding out about it.” 

A Jewish vice president would have been important not only because it would have signaled the latest progress of one ethnic group in America as thrillingly as Harris’ candidacy does for Americans of Black and Indian heritage, but also because it would have drawn antisemites out from the crevices, shining Louis Brandeis’ disinfecting light brightly upon them.

(That Harris’ husband is Jewish, incidentally, should do little to quell the unease. Jewish affiliations are proof of nothing except the reminder of past justifications. It calls to mind those who several years ago said Taika Waititi’s Nazi comedy Jojo Rabbit couldn’t be antisemitic because Waititi was Jewish. It wasn’t antisemitic. But that wasn’t the reason.)

Walz is a solid candidate with a strong record of speaking out against antisemitism. Just this spring he told Twin Cities PBS that, “I think when Jewish students are telling us they feel unsafe in that, we need to believe them.”

But Walz’s pro-Jewish bona fides don’t mean the decision to put him on the ticket — or the reaction to his appointment — can’t also be shadowed with antisemitism. Both can be true.

And so here liberal Jews again find ourselves, hopelessly marooned between a belief that Democratic policies are fundamentally better for our interests and yet worried we are not welcome in our own home — feeling a gentle nudge that perhaps we might find ourselves more comfortable in another place but unsure, in the end, of where else to go.

[wulfhalls]

all the villainshippers on my dash are losing their mind over osha x qimir, when mae x qimir is right there as the objectively sexier ship...

i knowwwww I hate boring people so much its unreal 🙄 he was licherally going undercover as bumbling fool sidekick to help her complete the murder assignments he sent her on 😭 and the way she was clearly into his whole I support my cancelled wife i am loyal to U spiel but really didn't dare do anything about it because her whole life all she's known is fight and train and fight and fight. first of all why even do all of that 😭😭😭 im ur master and also ur master in disguise as the only other guy u hang out with. incidentally ofc!!! I immediately sensed it wasn't know but ur identical twin sister because ofc I know u I'd know u anywhere. I'm normal about attachments!!! and the she betrays their "cause" and hes sooooooooooo fine with it he's so normal he goes on a killing spree. he went to the mae school of dealing with losing what is supposed to be yours. kill it so it can never leave <3 and then she does leave and if u can't have what u truly want mabye the next best thing can be good enough.......... u look exactly like her..... like can anyone even HEAR MEEEEE. also ARMS AND HANDS