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#one has a fake identity to hide his fake identity
egg-emperor · 8 hours
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I talk a lot about Eggman gaslighting and lying to the real Shadow to make him believe he's an android, as it's one of the most interesting underutilized concepts in the games to me
But something I haven't talked about but also find cool and interesting is how the Shadow androids in 2 player Battle Mode seem to believe themselves to be real and the others to be fake, with the voice clips of "You might look like me but I know you're just a fake" and "Let's see which one of us is the fake then". I thought up a fun way to canonize it
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Eggman programmed them with a desire to fight and prove themselves to be the real Shadow. Any could have an identity crisis just like the real Shadow, which Eggman tried to take advantage of. I can see the bastard programming the android copies with the same issues to try to get the real Shadow to be less suspicious of his own uncertain feelings. Brought them into a life of confusion and desperation to prove themselves as the real and best one (a lot like Metal but without knowing they're artificial).
I headcanon that another reason he specifically included the identity crisis in the cloning process besides not wanting the real Shadow to stand out in his feelings is to make them violent and fight each other to prove themselves for good battle training, so they can have what it takes to combat Sonic, like he said he created them for. Also that by giving them a neverending desire to prove themselves to be the best and real one of many, they'll keep doing their absolute best for Eggman no matter what and work all the more harder for him.
It's out of not just a programmed desire but a desperation to prove they're real and worthy. It makes them aggressive and destructive with intense feelings of urgency. And Eggman would never give the praise and approval they want because the desperation only increases that way and it's a good thing, it drives them to push so hard for his satisfaction. So they have to exist with feelings of uncertainty and insecurity and a fear of being thrown away if they don't prove themselves but they try to hide it with an act of confidence and extreme violence.
And I bet Eggman would like messing with their heads just like the real Shadow. Because he could've programmed them to be aware that they're androids but with an immense loyalty to serve him but he opted for a trait that makes them insecure, desperate, tormented by themselves and their copies with the notion that they're weak and not real and the fake if they can't destroy the other. He enjoys the mental damage, suffering, and vulnerability and exploiting that, talking to them in ways that confuses them, stirring up the fear inside of them of being thrown away, making them hateful and violent to the others
Even to the death for his entertainment and to find out which one is stronger and worthy of keeping while the other is scrapped. They tear each other apart and learn each other are made up of wires and "bleed" black. When they first see it, they don't want to believe the same artificial "organs" and "blood" are inside them, until it happens to them too and they can't escape the harsh truth that there the same inside, just artificial copies, fakes. The two androids fighting both discover that neither are real and they just brutalized and/or killed each other to prove they're real and worthy but their entire existence is a lie
Eggman loves seeing their devastation and finding out who is the strongest and most worthy of keeping, also taking sadistic pleasure in seeing one rip the other apart to impress him. He has his ways of making sure this discovery won't allow them to betray him in the future, if they find out the truth and live on and have to serve him after the battle. The way he'll treat them will make them wish they were the one that had been destroyed, along with how they now feel like inferior copies with no heart and soul- until he takes their ability to feel away after he's done toying with their feelings- or beats them into submission
I'm imagining these battles mostly happening at Lava Shelter, since it's the only stage in 2P Battle mode that's actually one of Eggman's bases
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The others are G.U.N, so maybe Eggman sends them to fight at their bases sometimes so they'll go and fuck up and destroy G.U.N and all their shit while they're at it battling to the death too!
I love the Shadow androids, especially the metallic different colored ones in 2P mode. They have a lot of untapped potential in multiple areas that I really wanna explore more 💜
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letmereadinpeace4 · 1 month
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Far from me the idea that I could tell Li Lianhua how to fake his death and maintain a fake identity, after all I certainly didn't defeat a huge beast at 15 and founded my own sect at 20, but I would say that it is rather common sense, when you hide your true identity, to CHANGE YOUR DAMN SURNAME! I know the jianghu is big and Li isn't that uncommon a name, but there is stil a risk! What was even his logic here!
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svampira · 3 months
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i know what im going to paint next but i kinda wanna doodle elias promoting the most rancid dangerous products on tiktok (when he was human) while swearing up and down he isn't being paid for it
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dollwrites · 2 months
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ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ɪᴅᴇɴᴛɪᴛʏ ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ʀᴀғᴀʏᴇʟ
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!bff!reader, sex toys mentioned but not used, noise control, dub con technically ( for him… kinda TRUST THE PROCESS ) prank gone wrong for reader lol, creampie, has absolutely no spoilers or deep lore, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback. HAPPY 4/20! i was gonna do some dizzy drabbles but i couldn’t get this out of my head. not proofread ( and written when i was in the clouds ) so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
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what had started out as a fun prank on your best friend for revenge ended with you completely at his mercy, unbeknownst to him.
picking up around the studio wasn’t something you did too often, considering it a breach of Rafayel’s privacy, but when you got there and he wasn’t home, you let yourself inside like you usually did. you were about an hour early, anyways. you hadn’t taken two steps when you stumble over a pile of crumpled sketch paper. you scrunched your brows as you gazed around your environment. scattered brushes, broken pencils, and a canvas half-painted in the middle of the floor. you sighed; perhaps Rafayel had hit a wall with his muse and had gone for a walk on the beach. the least you could do for him, you’d decided, was to clean up a bit. after all, a clean space is a productive space, right?
that was when you came across it, left carelessly on his bed, swaddled in a sea of white sheets and the comforter. you’d never seen one in real life until this moment, and at first you mistook it for a woman asleep in his bed with her butt sticking out of the blankets— but, it was fake. a plump, nearly life sized ass sitting atop the mattress.
does Rafayel really use something like this?
you found your cheeks heated up with embarrassment when you pictured him mounting it, both of his smooth palm against the cheeks, svelte digits digging into the silicone to spread it open wide enough for him to push inside…
shaking your head to snap yourself out of the fantasy, you look around, making sure no one was around to see you get lost in your own desire for him. “S—stupid.” you muttered to yourself, stepping closer to touch the fleshiest part of it. surprisingly soft, as soft as your own skin. your brow quirks, fingers sliding to the waistband of a pair of cerulean, lace panties that adorned the faux lower body. it seemed so strange to have clothes on something that was meant to stay hidden and used in private, as if the silicone slab had been laid out meticulously…
no, Rafayel didn’t use this for his own pleasure, you decided. this was a prank. an elaborate one, but one meant to fluster you when you came over.
he was such an ass!
“Oh yeah?” you challenge under your breath, grasping the panties and tugging them off of the toy, “You want to play games? I can play, too.” determined to outprank Rafayel, you toss the panties on the bed and stash the toy beneath the bed. it was surprisingly heavy, and made a splat when it hit the surface of the floor, you had to stifle a chuckle as just hilarious this was. you didn’t want him to win, even if he wasn’t there to see it. quickly unbuttoning your pants, you discard them and the panties you were wearing, kicking them under the bed, too. then, you grab the cerulean lace and pull them on— perfect fit! you took a moment to glance in a nearby mirror, turning slightly. your ass had a similar curve and complexion, and you hoped it was enough to fool him, at least long enough for you to scare him when he least expected it. then, you climb into the bed, scrupulous as you nest your top half under a pile of blankets, the pillows resting on the top of your shoulders to hide your head. there was also the issue with your legs. it took a great amount of wrapping sheets around your thighs as you kick and squirm, before you’re finally perfectly positioned— identical to the way he’d left the fake ass, your own sticks out as if inviting him, as you wait for him to return.
at first, it had been difficult to keep yourself from jittering, too excited to see the look on his face when you jump out, effectively one-upping his lewd joke. but, as the minutes ticked on, with your entire body hidden within his bedding, you’d started to sweat, breathing in the dense air trapped under the pillows with you, and you had to readjust several times. it took so long that you were just about to give up on the prank and unbury yourself, before you heard the door open.
showtime.
you felt knots of excitement tying themselves together in your belly as you willed yourself to be as still as possible, and appear as the lifeless, silicone toy.
you could hear him moving about the studio, sighing, and your heart was starting to beat faster in your ears— you hoped that he would hurry to his room, so you could reveal yourself soon, and you could get out from under this suffocating duvet.
when he’d stepped into the bedroom, you hear the door close behind him, and you have to physically keep yourself from kicking your feet in excitement. it was almost time to scare the living daylights out of your best friend. your muscles tighten, ready to jump up, but a sound abruptly stops you.
a zipper.
you freeze, listening silently to the sound of rusting fabric. soft thuds as he kicked out of his shoes, and a whoosh that follows towards the floor.
was he undressing?
your eyes widen only when you hear a heavy breath, followed by the click of a cap. squeezing, then a low moan coming from behind you. it was Rafayel. your eyes widen. you’d never heard such a sound from his mouth, and you had a pretty good idea of what he was doing. the subtle skin slapping that started slow, but sped up shortly after, his breath getting heavier simultaneously. you realized how wrong it was to hear Rafayel pleasuring himself, especially when he didn’t know that you were there. you should really say something, open your mouth and let him know that he wasn’t alone, but when your lips parted, you couldn’t force any sound from it. you were too stunned by these sounds to give him any kind of warning. you listen, mouth agape and eyes big, staring into the headboard of his bed as he takes a few steps towards the foot of it. your mind races, realizing that he had not placed the toy on his bed for you to find it—
this had not been a toilet-humor prank that he was putting together. he simply hadn’t had the time to hide his private toys before you stumbled upon them.
to solidify this revelation, you feel one hand tracing over the shape of your ass. his fingers were warm and slick, and you nearly gasped, sealing your lips just in time for his digits to curl around the panties and tug on them, inching down your thighs. he would definitely discover you were disguising yourself as the toy when he couldn’t take them all the way off, and that thought was equally humiliating and comforting. you didn’t exactly love the idea of him finding out now, after exposing your cunt to him, and now that you’d gotten an earful of him jerking off, but at least things wouldn’t go further. Rafayel doesn’t, however, try to pull the panties down completely. instead, he seems content to leave them around your thighs, and his fingers trace upwards, slowly and skillfully, until they trace your netherlips, slathering your sex in what had to be lube, cool and wet.
oh, god. your top teeth sink into your lower lip as his fingertips swipe full laps between your folds. the pads rub against your most sensitive nub, leaving it throbbing and begging for more attention before they drag downwards, teasing your opening. he didn’t seem to notice that your cunt spasms, attempting to clamp down on his fingers, before they run another lap. he lets out a heavy breath, the sound of his palm smacking against his abdomen as he fucks his own hand in tandem to the way he was unknowingly teasing your pussy making your head spin.
this was so wrong.
you had to tell him right now.
your tiers part once more, this time determined to stop this before—
the swollen, slippery head of Rafayel’s cock rubs against your slit. one hand covers your mouth to keep any sound, words or otherwise, from escaping as you realize that it’s too late to expose yourself now. you’d look like a total creep, taking advantage of your best friend by pretending to be his sex toy. “Huh—uhh…” Rafayel emitted a low moan as he rubbed his dick against you a few more times, before planting one palm on your ass, the other holding tight to his base as he plunged inside.
it took all you had within you to not let out a cry of surprise at the sudden entry. your free hand grips the sheet so tightly you fear your nails will rip holes in it, and your toes curl beneath the mattress. Rafayel had been under the impression that he could be as rough as he wanted, because the pussy was nothing but a silicone replica, and so his rhythm was steady, deep pumping almost immediately upon bottoming out in your guts. “Fuck,” he breathes out, hips thumping against your ass, both hands grasping at it. “F—feels good… yeah,”
he was right about that, and you wished you could vocalize it. your walls fluttered about in delight as he pounded into you, his cock was longer than you’d thought it would be, the tip bold in its deep exploration, prodding against your g-spot with every, full thrust of his hips. you fought the urge to bounce back, meet his movements with equally eager grinding. instead, your eyes began to roll and your lids flittered, and the grip on your own mouth tightened to keep any of your stifled mewls and whimpers from escaping. you couldn’t, however, keep from gushing when he hit the perfect depth with his fervent stroking, and you could only hope that his thorough drenching you in lubrication would be enough to mask this.
you could hear him panting, moaning, swearing, as he fucked you with reckless abandon. his fingers digging into your warm, satin skin, his cock twitching and throbbing inside you. it was as if you felt every, single vein as they rub your walls, autographing your insides, claiming them as his as he uses you.
“Yeah, yeah, yeah…!”
he was getting louder, his hips bucking more powerfully, more erratically, and the throbbing in your core was a testament to just how close to cumming he was.
you knew how wrong this was, but all rational thinking was dissipating; you were enjoying being fucked like this; greedy, careless pounding, by your closest friend too much to ruin it, now. you didn’t want to stop it, not until he was fully satiated.
“F—fuck, yeah,” Rafayel swoons, grabbing full fists of your ass, pulling your ass back to meet his hungry hip-snapping, “more, more, more!”
you couldn’t take much more, and you push your face into the mattress to keep quiet, both hands scrambling to hold on to something, squeezing the edge of the mattress with your nails sinking in— anything to relieve the pressure he was forcing as deep into you as he could. your feet wanted to kick, your back wanted to arch, and you wanted to scream out in pure pleasure, so you clung to the bed as tightly as you could in hopes that you could ride out the orgasm he was ripping from you.
he didn’t even seem to notice your twitching and subtle squirming beneath the blankets as he made you drop off and come undone, which you were thankful for, because he was too caught up in chasing his own high. “Gonna cum, gonna cum!” Rafayel was sputtering, desperately trying to get there, pressing all of his weight against your ass as he pumps a few more, deep and hard, thrusts into you before he grunts, and releases. as if he’d been pent up for quite a while, you felt a spattering of warmth, and then it spreads as he fills your belly with his essence. you nearly lose it in this moment, and almost blow your cover, your walls clamping down on his cock as he starts to retract. it felt so good to be full of Rafayel that you didn’t want him to pull out, but he does so with a ragged moan. there’s an uncomfortable emptiness that follows his abandoning of your cunt, the feeling of being fucked deep and left there, your oblivious best friend’s cum dribbling out of your used pussy as it twitches and your muscles stay tense. you knew you were leaving a small puddle on his sheets below you, but you could hear him milling around the room instead of focusing on you, now.
“Damn,” he mutters to himself, and you his phone unlock, then the rapid-fire tapping of his fingers on the keys. was he… texting?
you were answered when you heard the faint vibrating of your phone in your pants pocket, hidden under the bed. he texted you?! at first, you think he must’ve heard it, because everything went silent, and you waited for him to start shouting, but he doesn’t.
a few moments later, the door opens, and his footsteps fade as he swaggers down the corridor, satiated, and a moment later, you hear the shower turn on.
for the first time in several minutes, your muscles relax for a moment, before you swim out from your heated prison in a hurry, scrambling under the bed to grab your phone. every move you made, you could feel his release swirling around inside you and dribbling down your thighs, and you groan at the sensation, and the trail you made before you pulled the panties up to keep any more from leaving evidence. staring at the screen, panting and fucked out, your eyes barely focusing, you read the message in disbelief.
just woke up so i’m running late. stop on the way and buy lunch or something i’m starving
liar.
but you didn’t have time to dwell on the message; you get dressed as quickly as you can, what with your legs trembling like shaken jelly and your insides sore from Rafayel’s eager plowing, and hoist the fake butt back into place on top of the bed. you had to make a stealthy exit before he got out of the shower. stuffing your own panties into your pocket, you decide the best way to avoid an even stickier mess on his floor that would certainly be noticeable, you had to wear the panties meant for the doll. you could only pray he didn’t realize they’d gone missing right away, and later today when you could sneak away to the bathroom, you’d put them back in place.
so, stumbling and trying to catch your breath, freshly fucked, you leave through the sliding back door, the one that faces the shoreside, and closes it behind you to complete your escape.
once outside, you exhale deeply, lean against his car, hidden from windows’ views, to evaluate the damage, beyond the mess of him in your panties. you groan, covering your face with both hands in belated guilt.
you could never, ever tell him about this!
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dcxdpdabbles · 9 months
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Cave boy Danny has way to much fun fucking with the bats after a while. Jason is too until Danny bites him after some unwanted human contact. Alfred gets a big wave of nostalgia when Danny does it too.
Danny can say that the Waynes have been ridiculously welcoming, all things considered. He still hasn't come clean about not being Bruce Wayne's alternative double, so to throw them off from finding out the truth and have a safe place to crash- he's missed plumbing- he has been invited to the Wayne Manor and has been lazing about when under their watch.
If there was one thing apparent, it was that Bruce Wayne did not laze about. It was mind-blowing to those who knew him to see Danny- a version of Bruce- act like walking across the room for a remote was too much work.
It drove them mad to see such a difference between them, and thus, none of the Waynes noticed Danny's side project to get home.
The Waynes gave him a giant room and helped set up a fake Identity for him while they worked on getting him home. To the public, he was Danny Kane, a long-lost relative recently coming to Bruce for help.
Thanks to the support of Jacob and Kate, they agree to make it seem that Jack Kane- Danny's made-up father- was the result of Bruce's material grandfather having a fling after his wife's death. Jake was hidden from the public eye but had his father's financial support until he was an adult.
Jack was never bitter and told Danny stories of his wayward father, filled with love to prove it. These stories inspired Danny to seek out the remaining Kanes after Jack's untimely death, which led him to Bruce as Martha Wayne nee Kane's son.
The day Danny would be sent home, the Waynes would fake his death, and no one would be the wiser that Danny Kane never existed.
Fine by Danny
. He only planned to stick around long enough to get his ship ready and pinpoint a location that had the vile between the living and dead thin enough to slice his way back to the Ghost Zone.
Unlike Wulf, who could open portals wherever he wanted, Danny had to find points weak enough to punch a hole through. He knows his parent's portal was way out of his set of skills, and he sure as hell wasn't going to give anyone the idea to build their own here. Two percent of portals were already two too many.
He mostly hung around the house- with someone always close by in a poor attempt to hide the fact they were watching him. Most of the time, Danny was either lazing around the house, eating and sleeping, and it felt like a costly vacation.
He refused to help on the coms when the Bats went out to kick ass, even after Dick offered to sit in front of monitors and relay information to the heroes like he was offering the chance of a lifetime.
This seems to disturb everyone else in the house except for Alfred.
If anything, the fact Danny straight-up refused to put on tights and rush into night to fight crime made Alfred adore him. The butler claimed he was worried everyone in the family would forget what everyday life was supposed to feel like.
A few Waynes couldn't seem to wrap their heads around the concept.
"You're not interested at all?" Tim asks, eyes narrowed. He was among the few who thought Danny was suspicious for not wanting to risk his life to fight the corrupted system.
"Nah, man, I'm good here. I got my nachos, I got a movie room and I got the softest bathrobe ever bathrobe." Danny snuggles more profoundly into the pink plush robe that Steph had lent him. "Why would I want to ruin any of these? Sides, I can't even throw a punch."
".....There has never been a single alternative Bruce Wayne that wasn't involved in this life in some way. If not as a hero then he was a villain. Bruce as a villain is one of the most dangerous things that can ever happen across the multiverse" Tim reveals grimly. "We've won every single encounter but only by the skin of our teeth."
"Damn. Let me guess. You guys beat the evil Bruces by sending his kids after him."
"Yes."
"Problem solve. You already know you can kick my ass, so if I try anything, you can take me out, right?" Danny doesn't wait for a answer. He turns away from the teenager to stare at the movie screen showing his picked movie. "I can do nothing but tremble before your bat might."
Tim steps into his line of sight. "I mean it. You do anything to harm this family and will regret it."
"Does that mean I can't bite Jason again? That sucks. It's the only way I can get him to stop trying to drag me to galas. He wants to scare the other rich people with my poor people's manners."
Tim's lip twitches and Danny knows he's fighting to keep his face under control. "You didn't have to lock your jaw in like that."
"I really did. Jason tested me."
Tim tilts his head. "You don't really feel like Bruce. You look just like him at fifteen. Alfred says you act just like him. But for the last three weeks, you've been trying really hard to make it seem like you're okay with doing nothing."
"I am comfortable doing nothing."
"I think you're lying," Tim says, moving closer to stare down into Danny's eyes with frankly a manic glare. Danny's core flares up with the sense of challenge he finds in that dark blue gaze.
Which is a first for a human, and frankly is terrifying. If Tim had been a ghost he would have easily been an Ancient assistant or a baby Ancient. He has to be able to match Danny's power like this. Holy shit.
"I think your parents didn't give you enough love as a child, and now you seek approval from everyone around you while trying to push everyone away because you are too scared to make yourself valuable. You find yourself in an endless loop of self-doubt and self-hate by doing both simultaneously." Danny blurts. He watches Tim freeze, then winces. "Shit, sorry, the psychoanalyze came out as a reflection. Forget that."
Tim is still frozen in a way Danny recognizes as someone hearing something challenging to come to terms with. This is why he needs to break the habit of using Jazz's psyche training as a weapon.
He forgets not everyone insults each other with their deepest insecurities. That's just how he and Jazz love.
"...Do you want to watch the Grey Ghost Marathon with me?" He asks after a long pause. Tim closes his eyes before plumping down next to him.
"I like that."
Neither mention Jason, who is gasping in the last row of seats and attempting to suppress muffled laughter behind the wrist cast that Danny lovingly gave him at the last gala.
On a side note, Danny Kane is called "Rabid Dog." by the elites of Gotham, who watched the boy make three grown men cry after two minutes of talking to him and also witness four Waynes attempt to pry his mouth open screaming, "No Danny drop it. drop it!" while the boy munched on Jason's wrist.
No one has noticed that half of the tech has disappeared.
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yumeka-sxf · 3 months
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Japanese Linguistic Observations in Spy x Family - part 1
This is a post series I've been planning for a while and I've finally had the time to complete part 1! 😃 I may have mentioned here before that I got my B.A. in Japanese/East Asian Studies, and even though I'm not fluent, I know the linguistics of the language fairly well. So I thought it would be fun to examine the interesting aspects of the Japanese version of the SxF manga that aren't reflected in the English translation. It might also be an informative experience for those who don't know any Japanese to learn a bit about the language through SxF! I'll try not to get too technical with the linguistics and keep my explanations at a beginner's level.
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Part 1 - Twilight's "honne and tatemae"
One of the main themes in SxF is how many of the characters have secrets they want to hide, so they act a certain way in front of others in order to mask their true selves. Japanese has a word for this phenomena called 本音と建前 ("honne and tatemae").
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I remember learning about the concept of "honne and tatemae" during my Japanese college studies – a quick google search will yield a lot of publications on the topic and its relation to Japanese culture in particular. While the idea of hiding one's true intentions behind a fake facade can exist anywhere and is not something unique to Japan, it is enough of an occurrence in Japanese culture that there are specific words for it. The Wiki article has a basic but good definition of honne and tatemae, to quote:
A person's honne may be contrary to what is expected by society or what is required according to one's position and circumstances, and they are often kept hidden, except with one's closest friends. Tatemae is what is expected by society and required according to one's position and circumstances, and these may or may not match one's honne. In many cases, tatemae leads to outright telling of lies in order to avoid exposing the true inward feelings.
Sounds very much like the characters in SxF, doesn't it? Twilight especially, because unlike other characters like Yor and Anya, who simply have secrets they need to keep but don't create fake personas for themselves, Twilight does – the cheerful, friendly Loid Forger is a different person from the cold, calculating Twilight after all. Also unlike Yor and Anya, who speak the same way consistently no matter who they're talking to, Twilight uses different speech levels depending on which persona he's using and who he's talking to.
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There are many different levels of speech in Japanese, ranging from super formal to totally crude. These speech levels are distinguished mostly by the pronouns the speaker chooses to use for themselves and who they're speaking to, as well as how they choose to conjugate the words they use. For example, 座ってください (suwatte kudasai), 座って (suwatte,) and 座れ (suware) all mean "sit," as in, telling someone to sit down. But the tone being conveyed is different: the first one is polite, the second one is casual, and the last one could be seen as rude if you're not using it with a close friend/family member.
As Twilight, he uses casual speech with the masculine and less polite pronoun 俺 or オレ (ore). This is the speech he uses when talking to a fellow spy like Fiona, and for his own inner thoughts.
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As Loid Forger, he uses the polite 敬語 (keigo) speech, which is basically comprised of using the -ます (-masu) conjugation for verbs and the "to be" verb です (desu). He also uses the pronoun ボク or 僕 (boku), which is the standard male pronoun and more polite than "ore." He uses keigo to address pretty much everyone who doesn't know his true identity. When talking to a higher-up like Sylvia, he'll still use "ore" but will use polite speech instead of casual speech.
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Anya is an exception to this: with her, he uses his most casual speech, the same as he uses with Franky.
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I discussed a bit about this in part 24 of my Twiyor analysis posts, but this could be because Anya is a little kid, so he doesn't feel the need to put on any airs with her (same with Bond, whom he also uses casual speech with).
An interesting side note is that, as a child, Twilight used the pronoun "boku" but then changed to "ore" as soon as he became an adult/soldier.
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Another aspect of keigo, besides using the more polite forms of pronouns and verb conjugations, is putting the honorific さん (san) after people's names. Twilight does this all the time with Yor, as she does with him. However, he switches to casual speech and drops the "san" part in her name when addressing her in front of people who (supposedly) believe they're a real married couple, such as Yuri and Fiona – because it would be weird for a real couple who have been married for a year to address each other in such a formal way, especially the husband. In the below panel when Fiona visits them, he's calling her "Yor" instead of "Yor-san" and using casual speech instead of keigo.
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Oddly in these situations, while he uses just "Yor" when addressing her directly, he still calls her "Yor-san" when talking about her. During Yuri's first visit for example, he calls her "Yor-san" when telling Yuri how much Anya loves her (talking to someone about her) but then calls her just "Yor" a few moments later when telling her that he'll clean up the spill (talking to her directly). It's strange to me that he wouldn't just consistently use "Yor" whether he's talking to her or about her in these situations...I'm honestly not sure if he does this intentionally or if he just slips up since he's so used to using "Yor-san" in her presence.
*UPDATE* Thank you to @dentedintheworld-blog for enlightening me with the below reply about this!
"In Japanese, when speaking to your spouse's family about your spouse, you address her/him by attaching "san" her/his name out of respect for her/his family. This is also to show her/his family that you respect your spouse. That's why Loid calls Yor with san when he talks about how much he loves Yor to Yuri."
That definitely makes sense for why Twilight switches between "Yor" and "Yor-san" in these situations.
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Regardless, this is why the scene in chapter 86 is so significant – when Yor isn't present, there's no reason for him to refer to her as "Yor-san," especially in front of a fellow spy like Fiona who knows he (supposedly) shouldn't have any feelings for her. Yet, even after he just called Yuri by his full name "Yuri Briar" a moment before, he doesn't do the same for Yor and continues to call her "Yor-san" here, much to Fiona's dismay.
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In the same chapter, it's also significant that he uses "ore" when addressing Yor directly in his thoughts. Even though he's not speaking out loud, I believe this is the first time he's speaking directly "to" her as Twilight and/or his true self and not as Loid Forger.
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But despite all this, I think that both Loid Forger and Twilight are tatemae…they're both masks to hide the person he truly is. The person who fondly talked about his mother to Yor on the park bench, the person who genuinely expressed gratitude for her sacrifice when leaving the resort island, the person who refused to kill Yuri in a life-or-death struggle because he knew it would hurt her…that's his actual honne. But of course, the ongoing conflict of the series is that he has yet to realize this. He won't even show his honne to his closest friend, Franky. Seems like it mostly comes out in dribs and drabs during his interactions with Yor...no surprise there, lol. The man is certainly a work in progress. When he finally starts letting his "honne" show, I'm curious what form of speech he'll adopt.
-----
Continue to Part 2 ->
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kachowden · 1 year
Text
Android Boss x human! Worker
Prompt: Technology has taken over. Humans are now nearly obsolete. Both surprisingly and unsurprisingly, the world has become a much safer, healthier place. Most of the worlds main issues have been solved with robots now in control.
Androids are the highest tier of robots, they manage the big jobs. Corporate managers, bosses, governors and lawyers etc. humans are not required to work but are given jobs if they so desire.
Overall most people are happy. Except you of course, because no one said a clingy android was part of your job description.
——————-
“Worker B75C3 please report to the main office. I respeat, Worker B75C3 please report to the main office thank you.”
.
.
.
.
.
Ughhhhhhh
“What is it now Supervisor Bot?”
“B75! I told you to call me by my issued name!”
With a resigned sigh you cleared your throat.
“Right. What is it now Jessie?”
The Android, your boss, Jessie, beamed with his artificial teeth. It was almost obnoxious how happy he seemed just hearing you say his name.
To be fair you didn’t dislike the droid necessarily. Even though you did. He just made your job 10x harder than it should’ve been.
Calling you up nearly everyday for “a performance evaluation”, despite you being one of the best workers the company had to offer. That was human at least.
Purposefully bumping into you in the conference room, spilling coffee on your clothes so you had to get a new pair, never to see the old ones again.
Not to mention he was just so…realistic. And clingy. It unnerved you.
To be honest you were pretty sure it was his eyes that unnerved you the most though. Green, almost hazel eyes, that blinked regularly, naturally, darted around nervously under your gaze, and even dilated in the sun. They were too real.
It was gross.
Now, you wouldnt say you were a Android hater. (Except you were). You just found that making the bots look almost identical to humans was insane. The only way you can even tell that they weren’t human was their finger tips and tongues. Both of which had thin circular glowing plates, that served to simulate taste and sensations.
The tongue one was a newer upgrade. You weren’t sure why your boss had it.
An almost-human cough disrupted your staring, (glaring), and your eyes snapped to focus on Jessie, who’s own fake eyes lidded slightly at you, a wobbly, embarrassed grin strapped on his face. You couldnt help but notice he didn’t have his usual tie on.
He looked weirdly disheveled. His skin was just a bit too shiny, almost like sweat.
“The fucks wrong with you?”
“Language B75…”
You rolled your eyes and plopped down into, your seat, opposite of the androids desk.
“Cut the crap dude whyd you call me up here?”
Normally you wouldn’t be able to talk to a superior like this, but your “relationship” with Jessie was a special case.
He let you get away with pretty much anything at this point. Not that you used that power for more than a couple naps.
The bot looked like he was overheating with the way he was fidgeting about though. Avoiding eye contact half the time and staring right at you the rest.
“I was hoping you could humor me…on something..”
Not again.
“As you can see I recently got the new upgrade,” he wiggled his fingers for emphasis, showing off the currently dull finger sensors he now had. “And I was hoping you would let me…Test them out. On you..”
Realistically you should’ve been more put off by his request. But you’d unfortunately gotten used to the bots curiosities. He was a bit of a human fanatic. Always wanting to try these expiraments with you. Only you.
And realistically you should’ve declined too. Had he not also offered you a bonus.
“Fine whatever, get up. I wanna get this over with asap.”
“Really? I mean, of course! Right away!”
Jessie was terrible at hiding how eager he sounded. Not that he probably tried to hide it really.
With a peppy smile he shot out from his chair, and speedily skipped over to you. He stood infornt of you, hoisting you up from your seat, much to your own chagrin, and hovered anxiously for a moment or two.
His eyes darted all over your face. Maybe checking for any possible doubt or hesitance. Not that you cared though.
Getting very fed up with his stalling you thrusted your hands out and grabbed onto his own, forcing his hands to clasp firmly on.
“Hurry the fuck up.”
He didn’t bother scolding you this time.
You could see why. In your own mild disgust you watched as his receptors flowered a pretty blue, as his fingers tips rubbed over your knuckles and palm, crawling slowly up your wrist. He traced the lines of your palms, mapping them out like a fortune teller would in a shady carnival booth.
His hands circled and slid up your arms slowly, as if mapping out each new texture or scar. He paused at the underside of your wrist, pressing down slightly on the joint and eliciting a brief exhale as he felt your pulse drum lightly beneath his sensors.
Jessie shuddered for a moment at the sensation before moving on.
He took his time. Too much time in your opinion as you felt your back begin to hurt from standing for so long.
“Are you done yet? My backs killing me.”
His green eyes snapped to you so fast you almost got vertigo.
“Why does your back hurt?” His voice was breathy and low, and his eyes lacked their usual warmth for a second. Though you chose to believe you were imaging that.
“Gee it’s not like I sit at a desk all day with no proper back support.” Irritation dripped from your tongue like poison into Jessie’s ears, his fingers locking slightly before he relaxed with a sweet, nervous smile.
“…I’m a trained masseuse you know…if you want I could..try and relieve some of the pain? Free of charge obviously..haha.” His awkward, antsy tone left the joke to fall flat though you didn’t mind much, too excited about the prospect of getting some pain relief, even if it was from a creep like Jessie.
“Say less.” You meant that literally. Yanking your arms from his stunned metal ones you plopped down back into your chair, sat reverse and leaned your front into the cushiony back.
You missed the blue that soaked his eyes for a moment, a warning that went ignored by your mechanical boss.
With a excited exhale, Jessie rolled up his sleeves and stepped forward. His hands hovered hesitantly above your shoulders for a very brief moment, before finally descending with a firm pressure deliciously against your spine.
You groaned pleasantly, eyes screwing up slightly at the relief on your poor back, ignorant to the borderline short circuiting bot who twitched and panted at the indirect-direct contact.
His skilled fingers worked slowly at first. Sticking to a specific part of your back before venturing else where. He relished in your groans, and the fact that it was him making you feel good. Him. Not your stupid coworker. Or the assistant bot. Or that delivery boy who he sees you sometimes talking to and wishes he could just-
“Ah! Dude not so hard?!” Your barking paused his frenzied “massage”, if it could even be called that.
“Sorry! I’m so sorry B75, I just…”
The wobbly grin that appeared on his soft features was definitely cause for concern.
“I can’t really hit the right pressure points, through your clothes…is it okay if you..lower your shirt..slightly?”
“What? Yeah fine whatever just don’t pull that shit again.”
Holyshit you actually agreed
Jessies “breathing” quickly became erratic at the sight of your bare shoulders and back, face burning in a blue hue, and his pupils dilating violently before he twitched and fell to the floor.
You jumped at the loud crashing sound, bolting up with a readjustment of your shirt before staring down at the spasming bot in disbelief
You nudged his leg with your foot before sighing exasperatedly and walking over to the intercom.
“Maintenance in the Main office , building code 772E. Code 772E, Maintenance in the Main office. Thank you.”
The speaker buzzed, confirming they were sending someone up, and you took an extra moment to gaze at the android slapped over the floor.
You scoffed.
“Damn bag of bolts.”
——————————
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i-cant-sing · 11 months
Text
Yandere Dabi accidentally made reader blind
*sighs* it's time for another fic idea:
Imagine Dabi terrorising the city and doing evil shenanigans, the usual stuff, and while he's welding his fire quirk, you- an innocent civilian gets hurt in the process. Now look, a lot of other civilians got hurt too, but what made you stand out was the fact that you locked eyes with him, saw his face right before your retinas were burned by the blast of fire aimed at a hero past you.
You were taken to the hospital, where you got the news that you'd be blind for the rest of your life now and Dabi had begun stalking you from the moment you woke up from surgery, only because he thought you'd spill his identity to the police or whatever. But you didn't, probably because you forgot his face, but "probably" isn't good enough for him. He needs to be sure you won't rat him out to the authorities, so he continues to stalk you and eventually develops yandere tendencies for you.
Of course, as he falls in love, he also begins to feel guilty as he sees you struggling with your daily chores because of your new disability. I mean, you worked at a school, volunteered at orphanages and nursing homes, fed strays, the perfect daughter, friend, employee.
You are the nicest human ever and Dabi made you blind😭
He sees that you can't continue working at the school, and he sees its harder to volunteer when you haven't learned how to deal with life without the ability to see. And his chest hurts when he sees you break down at nights, in your apartment alone because you don't know how you'll be able to take care of your aging parents as their only child, when you can't even walk in traffic without help.
That's when Dabi decides to step in. Sure, you may have seen his face, but you haven't heard his voice, right?
He makes the first meeting seem like a chance encounter, bumping into you and catching you before you fell. Faking concern when you apologise for being blind, he takes you to a nearby cafe and offers to buy you a coffee for the one he made you spill.
And eventually, he asks you out and now you're two dating. You think he's the sweetest guy, always helping you but never patronising. And sure, deep down Dabi's heart jumps whenever he catches you in a danger, but he knows he shouldn't be coddling you. How else will you navigate?
Then again, the deeper Dabi falls in love with you and the more yandere he becomes, the more he wants you to become dependent on him for everything. But he has to be smart; he doesn't want to drive you away just because he wants to wrap you up in bubble wrap.
He helps you use you walking stick, gets you Braille, and with your permission, he babyproofs the house a bit (mainly because he saw the bruises on your leg from the sharp corners you bumped into).
And since you two are not living together just yet, he worries what would happen to you if he's not there. So he stays a while longer, hiding in the background just until you fall asleep, making sure you have your mobile (with his number on speed dial) near you.
But Dabi can't always be there to watch you. He's still pursuing his successful career as a villain, so without your knowledge, he installs cameras in your house, purely out of concern and not because he's a creep. Yes, even the ones in your bathroom are just in case you slipped and hit your head.
After some time, you two do end up moving in together. He of course modifies his house so that its more safe for you, like rounding off sharp edges, installing devices that let you know when youre near stairs, etc. And Dabi just absolutely adores spending time with you. Be it cooking, he's right there with you as you tell him all the steps to your favourite recipes and taste test food (he blows on your hot food), dance slowly in the kitchen while the pizza bakes in the oven, straddle you and tickle you until youre near tears, or cuddling on the couch as you enjoy each others silence. You're so nice, so kind to him. He won't ever say it outloud but you being blind is a huge positive for him because he doesn't get insecure with the way he looks. Plus, he can smile as much as he wants without feeling like its tarnishing his "villain image" (he has absolutely melted when you said you adored the way he laughed. Stfu bitch, hes never laughing again😭💖🫶) And you're great at matching his vibe too. He can see the way he's rubbed off on you, how you joke about your disability, the two of you surprising people with your dark sense of humor.
He can be intimate with you, because you feel perfect against his charred skin. When you touched his staples and his burned skin, his breath hitching when you pulled your hand away, your brows frowning. Did you find him ugly now that you knew he didnt have smooth, pristine skin?
When you didn't say anything for a few seconds, he asked if you'd like to know what happened to him.
You shrugged. "Only if you want to tell me. I just want to know if it hurts when I touch your skin." Hes so glad you can't see because my man had tears falling down his face. Why are you so concerned for his well being??? Why are you so sweet? Why Why Why Why-
Not to mention the way your parents absolutely ADORE him???? Like, the first time he met them, they immediately welcomed him into their homes and into their hearts. Dabi is like so overwhelmed because he's never felt so accepted and loved. Your parents never once looked at him differently because of his scars, and Dabi knows he looks like a criminal for sure, but your parents???? They don't care. Hell, they've already begun telling him all your embarrassing childhood stories and are inviting him to family gatherings and have already decided what clothes he's gonna wear for the family Christmas picture. And Dabi has realised that both you and your parents are way too naive and trusting and so so so so precious, he's adopting all of yall😭😭😭 (like fr, your parents just saved themselves from being killed and/or thrown into a nursing home).
Anyways, years pass by, Dabi had left the crime life the day you got hurt in his house and he wasnt around to help you. Now he works from his home office and you work at the school for visually impaired. Your relationship has reached it peak and Dabi pops the marriage question and you say yes. But before you guys can get married, someone (maybe an ex, or a cousin or friend) reveals to you who he really is and how he's the reason you're blind, and Dabi is eavesdropping because he needs the prefect opportunity to both kill the guy who spilled his secret and catch you before you run off.
"I know."
"You know?"
"I know. Always have. And I'd appreciate it if you don't bring it up ever again. Also, you're not invited to the wedding." You said before having the guy leave the room.
"You can come out now, Dabi." You called him inside.
"How did you know I was here?" He asked standing in front of you.
"I'm smart like that." You chuckled.
"Y/n- you knew?" He asked quietly, wanting to confirm what he'd just heard. You nodded. "How? Why didn't you say anything?"
You sighed. "You're not the only one keeping secrets, Dabi." You sat down, patting the seat next to you for him. "I have a quirk like you do. I have a heightened sense of smell. So, I pretty much recognised you from the moment you bumped into me."
"Huh? How could you recognise me? We never met before that." You shook your head. "We didn't meet before, but I noticed you the day of my accident." Dabi's mind couldn't stop at how you chose to refer his attack as an "accident", which is exactly what it was. You were never his target. Honestly, you're the best human being, an actual angel-
"I only noticed you because you smelled like charred barbecue."
.
.
.
"WHAT?!"
"Hey, no yelling!" You scolded. "That day, I was walking home when I was suddenly hit with this intense smell of grilled barbecue and I was superrrr hungry that day, so I was like I gotta get me some of that and then I looked up and I saw you."
Dabi listened to your explanation, and he honestly wouldn't have believed you if he hadn't spent so much time with you to know how your brain works. "If you knew who I was, then you knew you lost your eyes because of me. So, why did you..." He couldn't complete his question, afraid of you admitting to leading him on just so that you could take revenge and hurt him by pretending to be in love.
You cupped cheek. "It wasn't your fault. You weren't aiming for me. Besides, you and I both know that I would've been dead that same day if you wanted me to."
"Still... I am a bad person-"
"No, Dabi. You're not." You cut him off, not wanting him to taint himsslf with such foul thoughts. "No one is born good or bad. People just do good things or bad things, as circumstances force them to. The world isn't so black and white, Dabi. Everyone's got a grey area."
A tear fell down his cheek, and Dabi pulled you in for a deep kiss. "God- You're just- perfect." He whispered against your lips. You smiled and pecked him once more before settling on the couch, your head on chest.
"So... I smell like charred barbecue?" Dabi asked, playing with your hair. You hummed. "And it doesn't bother you?"
"Nope!"
"Why not?"
"I love charred barbecue. They're the best pieces!"
Ah, if you keep saying things like that, Dabi will need to buy you bigger diamonds.
Fuck it, he thought pulling out his phone.
He's already ordering one online.
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Now imagine someone hurts Dabi's baby, and she dies. That'd suck, huh?
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aspoonofsugar · 4 months
Note
Hi! Where do you think Alastor's arc is going? Redemption or villainy?
Hi!
Thank you for the ask, I loved watching Hazbin Hotel and I am happy I can write for the series :)
As for now, I think Alastor will spiral and hurt Charlie very badly, but he will eventually redeem himself (probably in a key moment). That is because Alastor is framed as Charlie's Jungian shadow.
What is the Jungian Shadow?
According to Jung, the shadow is what a person represses, both positive and negative. So, it can be one's violent tendencies, but also one's potential and energy. It really depends on the person.
So, why does Alastor fit the Shadow Archetype? Well, first of all:
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Alastor's powers make use of shadows. Not only that, but Alastor's own shadow is very expressive and shows the demon's repressed feelings. In other words:
On the one hand Alastor embodies the shadow, in the sense he represents what Charlie refuses to face
On the other hand Alastor himself represses his emotions behind a smiling face:
Alastor: Just because you see a smile, don't think you know what is going on underneath. A smile is a valuable tool, my dear. It inspires your friends, keeps your enemies guessing and ensures tha no matter what comes your way, you're the one in control.
This is a good characterization for a jungian shadow because the shadow grows stronger and more dangerous, when it's ignored. So, the most one refuses to face their feelings, the most these feelings fester and grow powerful and dangerous. This fits Alastor both when it comes to others and to his own character:
He takes advantage of an emotional unstable and vulnerable Charlie to strike an abimguous deal with her. Similarly, he uses Husk's gambling addiction to steal his soul. He uses people's weaknesses an unsolved problems to take over.
He suffocates his feelings, which symbolically manifest in his powerful shadow-tentacles. His design and abilities are representative of his psychological coping mechanism, which is nothing, but repression.
As written above, though, the Jungian Shadow can be both negative and positive depending on what one hides. This duality is shown in Alastor's two roles in Charlie's arc:
He is a demonic archetype (even moreso than Lucifer, the titular devil), as he waits in the shadows for a chance to manipulate Charlie
He is an evil mentor, as he genuinelly likes Charlie, sees her potential and wants to guide her towards greatness:
She's filled with potential that I could guide
This isn't a contradiction, but complexity. Alastor is chaotic and mixes negative traits and intentions with positive ones. Just like what people repress can be both bad and good, usually at the same time.
This is clear when it comes to the Princess of Hell:
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Charlie to Alastor: What's that you said about smiles?
Charlie is similar to Alastor in how she represses herself behind her pollyanna persona and her smile. This doesn't mean she is faking her altruism and generosity, but that she is using these traits to hide something else:
Lute: The only reason you're still here is that Daddy gave you and your Hellborn-kind a pardon from an exorcist's blade. How does that feel? To know how little you matter.
Deep down, Charlie invests herself in the Hazbin Hotel project because she wants to matter. She feels powerless and unimportant, as a result of her parents' neglects and of Hell's difficult situation.
So, our protagonist has strong self-issues that she refuses to face:
Husk: Princess is a bleedy heart who wants to solve everybod else's problems, 'cept her own.
That said, this isn't the only thing Charlie represses. The Princess of Hell hides:
Every negative emotions she feels, like her self-hate or her anger at Vaggie for hiding her true identity:
Rosie: How does that make you feel? Charlie: Just... angry? Because we share everything! Because she always supported me, and my ideas, and now I don't know whether or not that was just more of the lies... Oh no, that's a horrible thing to think! Do I think that? Yes! No? Kinda?
Her most violent and aggressive side, which makes so she is unable to make full use of her powers:
Vaggie: Well, I mean... You're the princess of Hell, but you don't really use the power that comes with that. Mybe you can, I don't know? Command a little more... authority. Charlie: But that's so mean.
In short, by repressing her negative feelings, she also represses her potential. It is only by facing herself as a whole, that she can fully grow and bloom into her most powerful and complete self:
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This is made clear in Charlie's quest in Cannibal Town. There, our girl is at her lowest, but she is pushing herself forward for the sake of her loved ones. She is trying to imitate Alastor by smiling, even if she is sour inside. However, things do not go well and it is only through her heart to heart chat with Rosie, that Charlie is able to pull herself together and inspire her people. Symbolically, she gets through them not with a 100% optimistic song like "Inside of every demon is a rainbow". Rather she opens her speech, by showing vulnerability and honesty:
It's a feeling like a rumbling in your gut That you could finally be faced with A billion needy faces I guess what I mean to say is For the first time in my life I might have to be ready for this Ready to be the one who's leading from the front Gotta come into my own Gotta come into my throne Gotta take charge and defend my only home And although I kinda feel unsteady Now I need to be ready for this
She affirms who she is and her willingness to grow into herself:
For the first time in my life Maybe I can be ready for this I can be the marshal leading the parade I can come into my own And I think I've always known My destiny could never be postponed When Adam brings the battle here I must appear like I'm ready for this
So, it is only by tapping into her own shadow that Charlie can be successfull. It is through expression and not repression that she can reach her goals.
What about Alastor?
He is the same, but so far he has been refusing to open up to others:
Angel: He's been here a while and he's still a big, creepy mystery.
That said, his time at the Hazbin Hotel has had an impact on him. He is forced to deal with others without killing them:
Vaggie: Pentious's eggs are all over the place. I need you to get rid of them. (...) Humanely!
He is shown cutting ties with a poisonous friend:
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He openly admits he likes the people of the hotel:
Alastor: Ah, an enjoyable collective to be around. I admit one could get accustomed.
However, he still refuses to openly show vulnerability and ends up like this:
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Let's highlight that Charlie and Alastor are foiled in The Show Must Go On song.
Both stand in the ruins of their homes/dreams.
The Hotel:
I took a hotel, and I destroyed it I know I could have done better Better, instead of letting you down
The Radio Station:
This place reeks of death There's a chill in the air And I barely escaped being killed by a hair
And both decide not to give up and to keep pursuing their objectives. However, Charlie is framed positively, while Alastor negatively. Why?
Charlie sings about her feelings openly and is supported by her father and found family:
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Alastor sings about his pain privately and even then he barely shows his desperation before going back to his villanious mask:
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Symbolically the moment Alastor reunites with the Hotel Crew, he sings:
And we're doing it with a smile!
He is back in control of himself, ready to hide everything behind his neverchanging smile.
So, Alastor is both Charlie's negative foil and Jungian Shadow. As her negative foil, he is bound to spiral. As her Jungian Shadow he is bound to be saved. Why is that so? Two reasons.
The Jungian Shadow can't be killed, but needs to be integrated with.
The main themes of the series are redemption and love, so it is improbable that Charlie won't help the person, who co-founded the hotel with her.
If anything, it seems that our princess is progressively asked to forgive, inspire and see the good in more and more complex cases.
It starts with Angel, who willingly stays at the Hotel. It goes on with Pentious, who infiltrates the Hotel, but makes no real damage. Then Lucifer, whom Charlie loves, but that has been absent from the majority of her life. Finally, Vaggie, who breaks Charlie's trust.
Each conflict Charlie has challenges her in a different way and helps her discover herself and grow. She is bound to meet new struggles when Lilith becomes a broken pedestal and finally when Alastor betrays or hurts her. Still, she is going to forgive and to understand them.
Charlie is going to see the good in Alastor and to better understand herself as a result. As a matter of fact Charlie's journey is one where she is slowly discovering a world, which isn't black and white:
If Hell is forever, then Heaven must be a lie If angels can do whatever, and remain in the sky The rules are shades of gray when you don't do as you say When you make the wretched suffer just to kill them again
Just like people aren't black and white. Just like she herself isn't black and white. By saving Alastor, she is gonna save herself too. Together with the whole universe.
And what about Alastor? Well, he needs to work on himself, as well. He too must integrate with his shadow, who is embodied by a certain character:
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Husk is a powerful overlord, who lost his soul to a demon. Just like Alastor:
Husk: Big talk for someone, who's also on a leash.
Alastor and Husk are both on a leash. Still, Husk admits it and starts working on his shortcoming:
Husk: You're a loser, just like me
Alastor instead affirms his willingness to be in control and to pull the strings:
Once I figure out how to unclip my wings Guess who will be pulling all the strings?
Alastor is a loser, just like Husk. Just like all the characters in hell. Sinners vs Winners. And yet, he refuses to admit it. This is why he makes no progress. Similarly, he wants freedom, but enslaves others. This isn't going to work out, which is why I am fairly certain he will eventually set Husk free. Probably by doing so, Alastor will make the first real step towards his own freedom. He will start integrating his own shadow.
Thank you for the ask!
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virgincels · 5 months
Text
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AND I LOVE HER !
ft. leon s. kennedy x fem!reader
tags. omg.. fluff and that’s it im sick, age gap, like brief mentions to sex idk, slight angst
note. don’t know what happened to me! ignore typos/mistakes this isn’t edited :3 rbs n feedback always appreciated omg im embarrassed ngl this is just leon feeling guilty as always
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“Okay, and so we get bored, right?” You tell him, perched on the bathroom counter, peeling back your false lashes to reveal– you guessed it, your natural layer of lashes which look identical to the fake pair. “Like, there wasn’t a lot to do, I mean it was snowing, we couldn’t leave campus, we couldn’t even leave her bedroom, right?” Leon gives an Mhm to show you he’s listening and totally not dozing off to the sound of your voice. Sorry, babe, sometimes it just puts him to sleep. The same way white noise does. “We go on Bumble - you know what that is, right?”
“Oh, yeah, obviously,” Leon scoffs, when in fact he doesn't know what that is.
“So, yeah, we're swiping, swiping, not a single right, right?” Another Mhm from his side, you’re using a cotton bud to remove your eye makeup, the black smears and becomes streaky on your skin. Cute, that’s how you look after a nice, hard fucking. His mind wanders far away to the sanctum that is his bedroom, the room on the opposite side of the hall. “And so Ashley, you remember her, right?”
“Rings a bell,” It rings no bells, not a single one, the only Ashley he knows is ex-First Daughter Ashley Graham. “The short one?” All your friends are short, he makes a purposely vague guess to hide his disinterest. Leon would put more into this conversation if he wasn’t five seconds away from conking out on the closed toilet seat.
“Yeah, that one, her fucking boyfriend pops up!”
“From where?” He asks, genuinely concerned for your wellbeing, was the freak hiding out in his girlfriend’s dorm room, under the bed of some shit?
“On Bumble?” You shoot him an odd look through the mirror, “Anyway, his profile says some shit about an open relationship, that his girlfriend wants a threesome, like, all this shit.”
“That’s awful.” He gets the gist, the dude is a cheater, still has no clue what a Bumble is.
“I know, and he’s ugly, that’s the worst part, she’s out of his league.” You hop off the counter, running the tap to wash your face in that ritualistic manner. Scrub, splash, wipe. Shit’s obsessive, Leon’s only ever ran his wet hands over his face, uses his thumbs to get the gunk out the corner of his eyes. “She was totally upset,” You say, lathering your face in foam, “She wouldn’t stop crying, and don’t, like, tell her or anything, babe,” You rub circles on your cheeks, the soap bubbles up, the tap has been running five minutes too long.
“Wasn’t planning on it, babe.” Leon tips his head back to soothe the tension in his neck, when you cup your hands and splash water into your face, droplets splatter on the counter.
“Good, well, to tell you the truth, she was pissing me off,” A few more minutes of what looks more like a facial massage than a wash and you’re done, “Like, he was never even nice to her, he made her pay for dates, and she was really crying hard, Leon, like, snot and everything.”
“Lousy guy.”
“Yeah, and so we find a place that’s open on the map, like, a convenience store, I mean it was like gas and groceries, but it was so fucking shady, babe,” You pat your face dry with a towel, hanging it up on the rack, “And, like, we try to get an Uber, or like literally any cab at this point, but no one wants to drive in that weather, you saw what kinda clothes I took too!”
Oh, Leon did, and he did the right thing and warned you that tie-up tops and mini skirts so mini they could be classified as belts would do nothing for you. Well, they do everything for your figure, but nothing against the least windy of winds. Like a shaky orange leaf clinging to the weary branches of an autumn tree, those scraps of Lycra would go flying, leaving you topless and bottomless and defenceless without a Leon to take care of your sorry ass.
“So, I’m like so sure I’ve got frostbite as we’re walking, but it’s five minutes away, we keep going, none of us had an ID by the way, not even a real one,” The second part of your routine involves applying lotion so thickly, it secretes enough palm oil to give back to those Amazonian orangutans, solving the deforestation issue one nighttime routine at a time.
“Babe,” Leon says in the tone of a disappointed and slightly exasperated father who wants nothing but the best for his daughter while being emotionally distant all at once, because he just has that kind of voice, “You can’t be doing that, it’s dangerous, could get in a lot of trouble, and it’s bad for you, y’know?” His liver cries out in disbelief as it has been subjugated completely by his alcoholism, “You don’t need drinks to have fun, you just need your friends.” His words pass through you. Leon has changed the world through his Special Agent status, he’s saved it time and time again, what he has not done is change your world like he suspected he would with that half-assed motivational speech.
“So, Ashley, the bitch, she shoves me in front, and all the girls are like oh, you go up, you look soo much older than us, which is so fucking rude. Like, I know I look it, everyone says it to me, doesn’t mean she should say it. So, I go up, and babe - I swear to god, he doesn’t even ask, like, he just kinda looked at my tits and scanned the bottles.” You use your hands a lot when you speak.
He blinks at you bare-faced, and it all comes falling down, on top of him like gigantic Jenga blocks that he himself misplaced. “You’re a baby,” Leon tells you. Not in the way most older men do when they talk down to young girls - to make them feel like even younger girls. It’s not to put you in your place, after all, it is Leon that needs to be put in his place more than anyone. He says this with the utmost sincerity as he spirals head-first into a frantic epiphany of sorts. He’s fucking a baby. A baby with a heart-shaped ass and a penchant for clothes that cover a single nipple at best.
“No, I’m not a baby, I’m just not old,” There’s a lack of hardened lines on your face, not quite baby-faced, but visibly young.
“Yeah, okay, baby,” Leon pats your head, rolls his shoulders back to relieve him of an ache, “I’m going to bed.”
“So am I.” Your lips jut out, “I was going there first actually.” Holy Mother of God, you’re a kid. Don’t do this to him. Usually, Leon likes his women menopausal, Norman Bates would agree, that’s insensitive, rather Mrs Bates would agree. It’s just that when you’re forty-six, fucking older women goes into grandma territories. Women his age are beautiful, but half of them settled down over ten years back, the available ones are career women that keep him on his toes, and he doesn’t like that. Being kept on his toes is too much, his back hurts and he wants to rest. The other half come with kids, Leon would rather scoop out his brain with a tea spoon than come into close contact with a child. The appeal wears off either way because Leon wants them to be older than him, but he’s not twenty anymore so the older women won’t be forty and stern and beautiful in the way worn out housewives are, they’ll be sixty and senile.
“Were you now?” He keeps the bile down in his stomach where it should be, takes you to bed, fucks you into the mattress one last time, kisses the mole between your breasts and leaves the following morning. What drug was he on the night he met you? Leon doesn’t know, and he doesn’t know if he’s still on it, or if dating younger women is a side effect of it.
The car windows are frosted over when he makes his way out without a de-icer in hand, it melts slowly as he sits in the driver's seat with his head bowed, drooped on top of the wheel. Leon pats himself down, feeling for his keys, he gets out, into the elevator and returns to face the front door. He slots his key into the lock and enters the apartment because it is his apartment, not yours. He’s so used to walking out on people that he walked out of his own home. Selfish tendencies that surely stem from some fucked up part of his brain.
“Leon?” You’re stood there in the doorway rubbing your eyes, “Did you go out?”
“Yeah, babe,” He grunts when you take your seat on his lap, the weight is pleasant, grounds him, “I went out, just for a minute, had to take a call, didn’t wanna wake you.”
“I woke up the minute you got out of bed.” The softness of your skin on his is dizzying, sleep-swollen lips coming to kiss his scruffy face with all the tenderness of a young adult woman, that’s a lot of tenderness, they feel a lot. Heart might not be on your sleeve, but it leaks out of you in the most insignificant moments, it’s in every single word you say to him. “You’re not very quiet, Leon. I don’t know who hired you, they should reconsider.”
Smiling, he cradles your close, takes your tit in his hand. Love is stored in these things. That’s why your heart is in the left one, not on your sleeve. “Was I that loud?”
“Yeah, I heard you stub your toe, and you were like fuck, fuck, fuck! for a good minute,” You recount, “And then I heard you talking to yourself in the bathroom, and you were brushing your teeth, you kept making those gross gagging noises, my dad does that too.”
“Trying to get it all out.” Leon shrugs, his chin rests atop your head.
“Get what out? Your uvula?”
“No, stupid, just, I don’t know, stop asking questions.”
“Okay, whatever, and then you walked out still talking to yourself, and then you were looking for your keys, moving furniture,” That he was, “Sounds like you scraped up the floors,” That he did, “Then you found them and they kept fucking jingling, then you shut the door really quietly, and I was like where is this loser going. Hey, Leon, you know I can see your car from here, right?”
You’d seen him. Seen him throw a sulky manchild tantrum in his car. How embarrassing. “If I’m being honest, I didn’t know that.” He admits.
“Well, I saw you sitting in there, I know you didn’t go to the store, I know you’re lying to me, but it’s okay,” You kiss his Adam’s apple, your nose tucked into his neck, “I know you didn’t mean it.”
“I didn’t— I didn’t mean it,” Leon confirms, he holds you tighter to him and thinks that you're more mature than he’ll ever be. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” It comes easily to you, and he wishes to do the same, “You can talk to me instead of, like, trying to drive away from your own apartment, that’s pretty weird, Leon.”
“I know, I’ll talk to you,” He won’t, and you know that, and he knows you know that, but it’s okay, it takes time for this sort of stuff, “I love you,” Leon says again, his lips meet yours, swallows up the response on your tongue, he eats your love.
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kisakis-boyfriend · 6 months
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How about headcanons for Camboy AU Freminet who uses his helmet to hide his identity? What’s his online niche? Does he do private shows?? Is his username penguin related???
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Pairings: None
Warnings: Sub/bottom!Freminet, adult Freminet, pillow humping, sex toys, overstimulation, camboy AU
Genre/Format: Smut; Headcannons & scenarios
Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!
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I am unfamiliar with French unfortunately, but I came up with pingouindoré69 as a username :)
Lyney was the one to suggest tacking on the '69' at the end 😅
His niche is definitely oceanic themed sets/roleplays. Freminet has a small room reserved just for his cam shows, painted blue with minimal furniture so that he can easily set up props and backgrounds
I definitely think he'd want his shows to be incredibly immersive when he does roleplays and such
His roleplays are scenarios such as: A diver getting fucked by tentacle monsters. An unsuspecting adventurer being ravaged by all sorts of monsters and creatures; depending on which dildo Freminet or the viewers choose~
Freminet is also well known for using all sorts of strangely shaped dildos (dragon dicks, horse dicks, lawachurl dicks, toys with knots at the base, toys with varying textures such as bumps and ridges, all different sizes 'n colours)
Owns a whole collection of tentacle dildos (that both Freminet himself and his audience fucking adore~)
The thin pink tip slides up into the young boy's hole as he slowly lowers himself onto the toy. It's a perfect replica of a classic tentacle; reddish-pink and covered in suckers from top to bottom. If the slutty moans pouring from the boy's mouth mean anything, they must indicate that those suckers feel heavenly as each and every one drags against his walls while he inserts the length
He carefully bounces on the tentacle, working it deeper inside with every downward thrust. The inside of his helmet grew steamier as the show went on, bringing an uncomfortable film of moisture to his milky skin. After a few minutes, the thick base of the tentacle pressed against the boy's ass cheeks — the entire length of the toy filled him up and made a slight bulge in his little tummy. A sight that the viewers thoroughly enjoyed~
The boy's cock bobbed with each thrust, begging to be touched and release all of that sticky cum trapped inside. Alas, our camboy's generous viewers had donated enough mora to already meet tonight's special punishment goal — 50,000 mora for the little diver to ignore his dick, forbidden from touching it even once. And he was a very good boy, so he torturously obeys the goal, crying inside of his helmet throughout every anal-only orgasm
Private shows are few and far between. Mainly reserved for special occasions, and even then the cost is rather steep. Freminet is just too shy to do one-on-one sessions often...but when they do occur? Ooohh baby–
The lucky viewer can request just about anything from him. Freminet won't remove his helmet and he sticks to his hard no's, but as long as your request is within his boundaries and capabilities, it's all fair game
They can bring out this boy's inner slut easily; making him degrade himself for their amusement. They can request that he use any number of the toys from his vast collection too
Make him stuff two monster dildos deep within his hole? Ask him to creampie himself with a fake cum pump inside of a massive tentacle toy? Request that he pinch his cute nipples and call himself “Daddy's little slut”?
Yep, Freminet will do it all~ If the viewer is kind enough to spend their mora on this private time with him, then they deserve a real treat!!
The viewers also fawn over his voice often. The echo from his helmet amplifies the abundance of whines, moans, and pleas that fall from his lips. His loyal viewers eat that up every time 💙
Freminet streams himself humping a pillow a couple times. Those shows quickly skyrocket in views, becoming some of his most popular streams
“Oh- oh gods...wa-wanna cum—!! ” The eager boy moans, thrusting wildly against his fluffy pillow. His head hangs low as overstimulation begins to kick in. Every 5,000 mora adds five more minutes to his humping session; every individual 10,000 mora donation delays his orgasm for just as long
Larger incremental donations mean that Freminet might do something such as calling himself a filthy whore (or whatever the viewer wants if they donate enough to add their own message), playing with his chest, or placing a vibrator underneath the pillowcase
Freminet's muscles ache as he's stuck grinding against the pillow for hours, his dick leaks clear precum everywhere. The fluid sticks to his lovely thighs with every drag against the pillow, and Freminet is left whining like an adorable whore the entire time
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brucewaynehater101 · 13 days
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I have a spooky Tim au that I think you would like.
Tim is not human and has never been. He knows this. His "parents" know this. The rouges know this. However, none of the Bats but one know this. When around the Bats, Tim looks like a Normal Human. His skin is pale but does look like flesh and his eyes are weirdly pale but they still look like eyes. His hair has a weird texture but its prob just his shampoo, so surely the slightly off texture in how his skin feels is just his lotion, right? His teeth are a bit sharp but still human teeth and his movements a bit odd, but what Bat doesn't move strangely?
However when they aren't around, it is a totally different story. His skin changes to look like porcelain and his eyes are so very clearly made of painted glass. His hair is made of string and twine died black and when its fist or foot lands a blow it feels like being hit by a sand bag and not flesh and bone. His teeth are made of shards of broken glass and his movements are far to Jerry yet smooth, like a puppet on strings that glides through the air in a horrible mimicry of walking. This Thing that wears the Robin Suit is Not a human, as long as it isn't around Batman or Nightwing. When either are there, The Rouges can see the shift. The way it suddenly looks so *human*. But once Batman leaves it shifts back into being a *thing*.
Tim is only a Thing when he is either scaring the rouges or Truly Comfortable. Young Justice knows that Tim is not a human and he doesn't hide it from them. There is never any fight about his civilian identity because he freely tells them, "I am a Thing made from Glass and Sand and Fabric and Magic. He is not a Person nor has he ever Been A Person. He is not some poor sap who was transformed into a Thing, he is a Thing that was created and then given life with Magic.
As for how Jack and Janet acquired a Thing like Tim, well. They're archeologists. They dug up an old tomb, found a coffin that was chained closed and bolted to the ground and like every White Person In A Horror Movie, they opened it without a second thought. Inside they found an ancient, cursed doll. It came to life when Janet cut herself trying to clean off one of its broken glass eyes to get a better look and the blood fell on it. The pair then decided this was a lot easier than child birth and kept the cursed doll, naming it Tim.
My gods. I love the ending of this cause it gives off the same vibes as "humans will adopt anything" tropes in space travel fiction.
I have one caveat with the Bats not knowing. I hc that Cass knows. Tim's body language is too strange for her not to notice something.
Everything else? Beautiful. It would be hilarious if people keep trying to tell the Bats. Here's a possible scene:
Goon: *points finger at Tim* "That thing beside you isn't human!"
Tim: *fakes having his shoulders drop as he turns slightly away in dejection*
Dick: *absolute fury as he beats up the goon*
Tim: *decides not to get revenge after seeing what Nightwing does to the person*
or
Rogue: "I'm telling ya, whatever he is got string hair, porcelain skin, and doll like movements to him."
Batman: *hums, takes them out, proceeds to Batcave*
Tim: "What's up, B?"
Bruce: "[] said that you look different when we're not around you."
Tim: *tilts his head* "I mean, I like playing up the rumors that the Bats are cryptids, demons from hell, spirits, or whatever when I can. I add effects to my costume to increase the spook factor."
Bruce: *nods and turns away to end the conversation for now*
Tim: *makes plots to ruin that rogue's life for a bit as revenge and a message*
I'm curious how wounds and scars look on Tim's porcelain skin. How does he heal? Does he even have a spleen?
I'm also down for two avenues:
Jason doesn't know like the rest of the Bats. After they start to become close to each other, Jason retaliates against folk who try to demean Tim. He tries to hide the comments from Tim until he learns that the teen finds it funny and ramps up the rumors on purpose. Then he switches to pulling pranks on people with Tim to create more wild theories and gossip.
Jason finds out at TT, and Tim ensures no one actually believes Jason. Perhaps he even starts the notion that Jason was affected by the Pit. It drives Jason bonkers that no one is trusting him or accepting his words for what they are.
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sky-fan-fic · 1 month
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I’m really interested in the idea of Padme surviving. Like she’d probably have to fake her death and that of the twins because there’s no way Palpatine will leave them alone. But she spent her whole teen years hiding in plain sight. So she’d likely have the most obvious fake identity as an advisor to the Queen of Naboo, who has children the same age as Padme Amidala’s baby, who look strangely like Anakin Skywalker but can’t be his because Jedi don’t have sex, and she’s besties with this guy who looks weirdly like Obi Wan Kenobi. Her face is everywhere so she’s done something to drastically alter her appearance like a big burn scar on her face, just like her husband (couples goals). But one day she finds herself face to face with Vader and he recognises her because he knows her better than anyone else and she recognises him because only Anakin could be so dramatic. And if random mother of twins is Padme, that makes her kids tiny Jedi. Palpatine wants these kids, who are only like five years old so it can’t be hard. But Ben taught them to use the force and their mother taught them to fight for what’s right and Anakin never actually wanted power he just wanted his family and that’s how two toddlers and a sad dad took out the Empire. Palpatine is remembered as a laughing stock. Padme takes over the Empire and turns it back into the republic. The twins have a goth cyborg protector dad. Ben feels really awkward because he’s the one who cut off all Anakin’s limbs.
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batneko · 3 months
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okay, time to actually type up my thoughts on this AU! With some new art to make it worth it.
for context, here's part one and part two.
so the basics are, Bowser is continually trying to conquer the city and being fought off by the bros, who do have superpowers (I thought about drawing lightning around Luigi's fist but I don't know how to make that look good in lineart) and costumes and "hero names," but don't hide their faces so they don't exactly have secret identities. It's more like being an actor with a stage name. Since they're fairly average-looking dudes they don't get recognized all the time, especially when they're apart, but Mario definitely does more often than Luigi.
But even when they're not recognized by the starbucks barista, people expect a lot of them. Not just stopping Bowser, but stopping everyday problems, rescuing cats from trees or standing in for a broken TV antenna. Eventually the pressure gets to Mario and he decides to fake his death and make a run for it. He's not really thinking clearly at the time and he regrets it almost immediately, but he can't bring himself to go back and face everyone's disappointment. He needs to figure himself out first.
He does at least contact Luigi as soon as he's out of the city to reassure him he's not dead. He doesn't tell him where he's going though, and Luigi can't contact him back, he has to wait for Mario to call, so Luigi does genuinely miss him and can fake grief when he needs to without too much prompting.
Bowser, meanwhile, was genuinely not expecting to "kill" his greatest rival. He never really wanted Mario dead, he just wanted the city! But he's not going to let this opportunity pass him by- Or so he thinks, until he's beaten into a pulp by the other hero that he usually forgot about.
Okay, fine, Bowser can still work with this. Heal up, regroup, give it another try- Aaaand this time he's ganged up on by three heroes he's never even seen before. What the heck is happening?
Turns out that without Mario's charismatic leader act keeping everyone reassured (and complacent), a bunch of people are stepping into the gap. Luigi, Peach, Daisy, probably more than one Toad or Yoshi... Bowser can't plan for this! They all have different powers, different strategies, different types of banter. He's overwhelmed.
So Bowser gets the idea that he needs just one hero to fight. Maybe with a sidekick, but still. That way he can time his cool speeches and minimize the amount he gets punched in the face. He already killed one of them, maybe if he works his way through the others one at a time he'll finally win. Eventually. Someday.
He gets the super crown disguise watch (I still haven't decided if there's a real guy whose appearance and name he is copying) and finds his first hero. Mario's sidekick. Should be the easiest one to fight, right? Bowser just needs to convince him that it's better for everyone if the city only has one hero at a time. It's about continuity. It'll reassure them. Give them a symbol.
Unfortunately for Bowser (and fortunately for us) Luigi is way too nice a guy to chase off some random bear person just for recognizing him and having Opinions about all this hero stuff. Luigi talks to him, addresses his concerns, answers his questions, and the guy is actually surprisingly willing to listen. Most people who try to tell him how to do his job don't care about facts and logic!
Next thing Bowser knows, he's been invited for coffee next week. That's... fine, right? This is progress! It's not a date, it's just getting close to his target! And it's definitely not a problem that Luigi is really cute and sweet and patient and has big blue eyes and a nice smile and the warmth of his handshake lingered for the rest of the afternoon...
Everything is totally fine! 👍
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dollwrites · 1 month
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ʀᴇᴠᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴs ! ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ʀᴀғᴀʏᴇʟ
*part two / continuation of mistaken identity. can be read as a stand-alone but i recommend reading part one first.
𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), fem!bff!reader, sex toys mentioned but not used, mentions of condoms but not used, cum marking, playful objectification / name calling ( toy, fucktoy), has absolutely no spoilers or deep lore, all characters featured are aged 18+
𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ please reblog && leave feedback.. not proofread so there’s probably mistakes. thanks for reading < 3
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where was it?
where was it?!
your heart was thumping rapidly against your rib cage as you hurried to the wardrobe in Rafayel’s bedroom and grabbed the latches. flinging it open, you’d hoped to see that damned fake ass sitting in a corner under a lump of his laundry. unfortunately, you dug and dug and dug, and hit only the bottom of the closet.
damn it, Rafayel, where did you hide it?!
although you hadn’t exactly expected it to still be spread eagle on his bed by the time you crept away from a very distracted painter, you were starting to panic. it wasn’t in any of the drawers beside his bed or in the closet. you took a step back with a soft breath, placing both hands on your hips. wrapped between your fingers in your dominant grasp was the cerulean lace that you were very, very well acquainted with.
the panties you’d had no choice but to wear lest you dribble your best friend’s cum from your freshly fucked cunt as you wobble-snuck out through the back door— the same panties that belonged to Rafayel’s sex toy. it was unfortunate that he’d moved her, and had you not known Rafayel well enough to know that he probably hadn’t noticed the missing panties, you would’ve been concerned that you were busted. thankfully, however, his sheets and the duvet were still wadded haphazardly atop the mattress. it looked like the same, warm mess that you’d crawled off of after he’d fucked you.
however, there was still the issue of the disappearing rear end.
���Where…” your whisper trails off, eyeline drifting to the bed again.
under it, perhaps?
quickly, you lap the room, past the door ajar, and drop to your knees. flipping the sagging sheets over the corner, your shoulders wind as you lean as close to the floor as you can, worming partially beneath the bed frame. your phone makes an appearance, clicking the flashlight button, you illuminate the narrow gap between his bed and the floor. surprisingly lacking junk, a discarded paintbrush with a maroon hue hardened on the bristles exempt, there was nothing of note. “Really?” you whisper, exasperated, before you heard a soft chuckle.
nearly bumping your head when your muscles jump involuntarily when you’re startled, you shimmy out from beneath his bed and look over your left shoulder. much to your dismay, the owner of the bed was propped against the frame of his open door, his arms crossed over his chest, the buttons on his white shirt unbuttoned just below his throat, flashing a glimpse of his collarbones.
crap.
the way that his ombré eyes followed you, twinkling mischievously, made a knot form in your stomach, but you slowly sit up, leaning back into the mattress. “I—I didn’t hear you come in.” you tried to sound casual, but Rafayel had just caught you red-handed, halfway underneath his bed and you had absolutely no idea how you were going to explain this away.
“I could tell by the way you jumped,” Rafayel counters, quirking a brow, curiously. “Whatcha doing?”
double crap.
your mind races, trying to come up with an answer that would be funny and misdirecting at the same time, but all that came out was the bogus reason you’d given him when you crept away in the first place. “I told you I was going to the bathroom.” you offered halfhearted.
Rafayel wasn’t convinced. “Uhhuh,” he replies, faux pensive as he takes a step closer, “did you forget where it was?” finally revealing what you dreaded, a smirk tickles his soft, pink tiers. “Or were you looking for something?”
you start to reject the notion adamantly, but when you sucked in the breath, you paused, and looked down at the scene he witnessed. you, digging under his bed, with a flashlight in one hand and a pair of panties that he probably bought in the other. your heart sinks to your stomach at the prospect of coming clean, but you knew you didn’t have a choice. “Rafa, listen—“ i’m so sorry, please forgive me. i didn’t mean for it to go that far. i should’ve told you. i promise i’m not a total creep. you didn’t know which of these sentiments were going to win the race to the tip of your tongue.
“I threw it out.” Rafayel interrupted, crossing the bedroom to stand in front of you in a couple of swaggering steps, before he extends one hand for you to take so he can help you up. at the moment, though, you merely stare at him, perplexed, so he adds in a soft, telling tone. “I didn’t need it anymore. After all, I got a new one this morning.” instead of offering it anymore, Rafayel flicks his wrist and the tips of his fingers dance along your cheek, warm as a toaster. your eyes widen slightly at this, your lips parting, but no sound comes out as you’re sat in stunned silence. his fingers, however, do not pause and trace the shape of your open lips, his eyes following the movement for a moment before his smile softens, his lips hardly moving as he murmurs, holding in a breathless chuckle. “You didn’t actually believe that I had no idea it was you, did you?”
“I… had hoped.” you mumbled hopelessly, inching up the side of the mattress until you can sit on the corner, looking down at the evidence in your hands as you sheepishly as your fist swallows the panties. your shoulders slumped in hopelessness, “You knew all along?” but Rafayel only lets free a chortle.
“What a shameful expression.” he notes aloud, before his fingers tuck beneath your chin and tilt it upwards, urging you to look up at him. it is only when you do that you realize he’s leaned down, his chin jutted out, his lips inches from yours. his voice is low and husky, “I’d be truly clueless to mistake a tight, warm pussy spasming and stretching around me for a lifeless, boring slab of silicone.” his eyes search yours as he speaks, looking for any hint of reluctance for him to be so close, but when he sees none, he adds, “I haven’t been able to think about good you feel. Your grip on my cock when I pushed it in,” breathing out each syllable, Rafayel places one hand behind you, moving closer. upon instinct, you scoot back. he inhales, his other hand planting itself at your side as his knee digs into the mattress to walk you back with torturous slowness, “how wet you became when I fucked you hard, how your pussy clenched and siezed when you came…” both knees now nudging your own apart, he crawls over you, until you fall back against the mountain of feather-soft pillows you’d been hidden under only hours before. you’re flat, staring up at his lean, looming figure, his face lingering close enough to feel the heat from his own, pinkened cheeks as he sighs, allowing a fraction of his weight to press against you, pinning you to the bed.
a very familiar shape— his hard cock through the stiff fabric of his trousers, prods at the inside of your thigh, eager to feel the warmth that your pussy provided, and Rafayel whispers to you an admission of guilt. “I tried to replicate that tightness, the warmth, when I jerked off in the shower, but I couldn’t make it feel as good as you. I only frustrated myself, and have been suffering ever since.”
“Suffering seems like an exaggeration…” you whisper only half joking, but you’re distracted; your eyes flicker down to where his body rubs against yours, the garments shifting and creating an annoying friction. he seems to feel the same way, because Rafayel is stripping you even as you speak, pushing your top and your bra up into a bunched up mess around your neck and jerking your shorts and panties down. you don’t resist in the slightest, even going so far as to lift your bottom so he can undress you easier. both of your hands let go of their anchors— the phone and the cerulean panties, and go to his shirt, instead, unbuttoning it with eager, quick movements.
“Don’t pretend that you don’t also feel it.” Rafayel’s gaze is deep and longing, his voice thick and accusatory. “It’s been torturous, and it’s all your fault. This is your fault.” his voice is pointed, and he grasps your wrist, guiding your palm to press against the throbbing tent in his pants. your fingers twitch, desiring nothing more than to tighten, to massage and fondle the package so tightly wrapped, so you do just that. you feel him fully in your hand, and Rafayel moans a soft, encouraging moan. “Let me fuck you again, just lay here for me like a pretty, little toy.” it wasn’t quite a demand, but also not entirely a plea— something in between.
but when his voice lilts with unbridled desire, you almost can’t help but melt to his whim. you thought about telling him that you were not a sex toy— not at all a hunk of silicone for him to fuck when he felt the urge, but you didn’t. in fact, you swooned at the thought of being that worthless junk’s replacement.
because, truth be told, you hadn’t been able to stop thinking about the way Rafayel felt when he throbbed inside you.
“This is going to ruin our friendship…” you offered a half-hearted argument, but your fingers were already scrambling to unzip and free his cock from the cloth restraints of his pants. when your fingers wrap around skin, getting a feel for him, he moans, and shimmies what’s left of his garments down his legs, kicking them into the floor.
“It already has.”
those three words rang truer than you’d been prepared for, even huskily breathed as Rafayel leans over you, his palm smacking against the bedside table. ever since this morning, when you so much as sat close enough to feel his body warmth, you’d remembered for and longed to feel him fucking you with reckless abandon once more. every breath he took, every sigh that left his lips, reminded you of how he sounded when he was inside of you. and, if his confession was to be believed, he also couldn’t stop thinking about it.
the friendship was already fucked.
all you could do now would be to nurture this new development.
Rafayel hooked his fingers around the gilded handle of the drawer and pulled it open, before fishing around blindly and retrieving a prophylactic between his first, two fingers. had you been his friend in that moment, you might’ve teased him for having condoms readily available. after all, you’d not known Rafayel to date many women. however, as his lover, your heart leapt into your throat in anticipation. but that condom that he was about to tear open with his teeth would rob you of that delicious, raw feeling of him with nothing in between. so, your free hand fled to clap against his wrist and stop his movements. “No need for that.” Rafayel pauses, staring at you perplexed, his plushy lips parted. your eyes sparkled as he poured his ombré gaze into yours, reading everything left unspoken. the time to take care has fled with the friendship, because you craved his cock— and would refuse any alterations. your back arches, and you writhe on his bed, slinking down underneath him until your body is in the perfect position to be taken. legs bent up towards your chest, feet sticking out on each end, and you keep your grasp on his base until you can give him a light and persuading pull, guiding the flared tip to split your sticky folds. “Just fuck me…” your breath whistles in a soft hiss through your teeth when the first couple of inches slip inside, slow and steady, and your hand moves from his base to plant itself flat against his pelvis, feeling the muscles beneath your fingers tighten as he pushes inside you. “Fuck your toy…”
Rafayel grunts upon entry, because your walls spasm and ecstatically welcome him home. “I missed this pussy.” smiling, practically drunk on the scent of your arousal and his own thickening the air surrounding you, his hands push against your knees, spurring your legs further apart, as he sets his pace. long, deep strokes with firm, punctuating hip snaps so that his cock could pummel your spongy nerves. each time he bottoms out, the force coaxes a moan from your open lips, your body bucking beneath him, breasts jiggling in tandem with his pace. at first, you close your eyes, brows furrowed close as you focus on the sensation of being pounded and listen to Rafayel’s panting above you. there’s not a sweet spot that he didn’t reach— from the bulging veins on his length rubbing against the grooves in your walls, to the bulbous head of his cock battering your g-spot. it was a much more calculated fucking this time; Rafayel was going to have you in the most carnal of ways. he made that clear.
your nails dug into the warmth on his hips, but you only used your vices to pull him in deeper, demanding with grips and moans that he give you everything he had to offer. you hear him hiss— whether from the pleasure of your cunt tight around his cock or the pain of your nails biting at his flesh, you can’t be too sure, but he obliges, pounding deeper. harder. faster. “M—more!” you cry out, your body undulating beneath his, eager to take every inch. small droplets of perspiration escape from his jaw as it lingers over you, raining on to your cheeks. “More!”
“Fuck,” Rafayel moaned out loud, pushing your legs back even further until he could lay his chest on the backs of your knees, pinning you to the bed with his body weight. “I’ve never had such a greedy fucktoy before.” there’s a playfulness in his strangled tone that is truly and utterly Rafayel. your eyes open, and glare at him, as if you’re ready to snap back, but he bottoms out inside you again, choking whatever sarcastic remark you had back into a pathetic gurgle of pleasure before he leans in and sighs heavily against your lips, “Don’t you dare give me that look, I wasn’t done. I was going to say that I love how greedy you are.” from this angle, with every inch of his body slick with sweat and pressed against you, he can reach even deeper. his balls, warm and heavy, smack against your ass when he pumps against your limit over and over, almost as if he wishes he could worm his way into your cervix. “Take it deep for me, greedy girl. Come on, come on,” he croons and his head droops forwards, closer to your face. his own is a pretty scarlet-kissed hue, his typically clear eyes are dark and stormy with lust, and you knew before he moaned, “I’m so close. Gonna cum.”
you weren’t quite there yet, you needed a little more, but you could do very little than to grip the sheets underneath you when Rafayel rode out the force of his orgasm. rough, eager thrusts that had your head spinning, and your body twitching and jumping when he suddenly ripped his cock from inside you, leaving that familiar, sickening hollowed out feeling. he did so just in time to cast streamers of warm, white release over the lips of your used pussy, moaning your name as he sat up on his knees, one hand jerking himself off to ensure he got every last drop of his cum on your cunt. your thighs were trembling so Rafayel kept his free hand on one of them, holding you steady so he can finish his masterpiece on you.
“You were almost there, weren’t you?” he asks, breathlessly, when his satiated cock lays against his thighs. he releases it, and instead, runs his fingers up between your nerherlips, pressing the pads on your clit to rub it in fierce circles. the motion smears his release deeper into your folds, fully marking you as his plaything, but you’re much too focused on how good it feels when he strums you like this. “I want to make my pretty, greedy little fuck toy cum, too.” your button throbs against his fingers, your back arching, so he focuses the pressure a bit more precisely, scrubbing his fingertips back and forth over your clit. your eyes, eyelids droopy and all, peer up at the sight of him kneeling between your quaking thighs, his hand moving back and forth, his stare glued to your soiled pussy, and you come undone right then and there, swimming through the sea of bedding as your orgasm possesses you.
Rafayel didn’t seem as though he was totally finished, even when the aftershocks wracked your body, because his fingers still teased your poor clit; and when you inched back, he followed. “T—too much!” you squeal, flipping over on to your belly. you’re entangled in his sheets, damp and smelling of sex, with your ass jumping and overstimulated, squirming until you’ve managed to scramble away from his devilish, svelte fingers. he chuckles at the sight, and allows you to escape, before he crawls over to you and rubs your back to ease you out of this stimulated state. “I never thought you’d cum so hard, I’ll have to be careful with you, hm? Don’t want my new toy to break.” he chuckles, his slick fingertips tracing your spine. he leans down, kissing your shoulder with parted lips. “My new, favorite toy.”
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notedgyanymore · 1 year
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Dp x Dc idea 💡
Jazz has been dating Jason for the last few months the bat family loves her, and she hasn't given any of them red flags to trigger their paranoia as to make them look into her past, so to them jazz just seems like a normal nice girl. Everything changes though when she gets custody of her younger brother, who according to her has spent the last six months recovering from an unknown disease in a specialized hospital in another country.
Danny unlike jazz is a walking red flag, you can tell in your gut that there is something inhuman and terrifying about him and now the bat family is scrabbling to find information about Danny and jazz's past which seems so far to be purposely erased in a way that is so efficient that it's as if it never happened in the first place. The bat family current theory is that Danny is some kind of monster/creature that has infiltrated Jazz's life and altered her memories and that she never had a brother in the first place this corroborates with the fact the while Jazz Fenton existence is very well documented by government, there's virtually no evidence of the existence of Daniel Fenton before he appeared the last month with a fake recently made ID.
The truth is Danny has spent the last six months recovering in the ghost zone from an attempted dissection courtesy of Jack and Maddie Fenton and was being taken care of by his ghost guardians/parents frost bite and clockwork, while healing he discovered the that he really likes "living" in the realms specially after a traumatic experience, not having to deal with humans feels great ! Anyhow, Danny decides that he wants to live full time in the ghost zone and makes a wish to Desiree so his identity both as Phantom and Fenton get erased and the only people who remember that he ever existed are jazz, Sam, tucker and of course the ghosts.  
Jazz wasn't all that happy about the wish, but she understands that it is better that her parents forget Danny's existence, so they can't go after him again also making a new identity together seems easy enough. The reason why jazz got Danny's custody in the first place was because of the agreement she made with clockwork and frost bite that Danny should at least finish high school and get to complete his eighteen birthday on earth, and they were fine with this deal after all is just a few years and ghost children age much slower which means that clockwork and frost bite would also get to raise their kid.
Danny currently is very unhappy with the deal having to live on earth, specially on a city like Gotham, moreover having to deal with Jazz's terrible boyfriend and his family who are treating him like dirt. Well jazz isn't happy either, she loves Jason, but she will not stand anyone treating her brother this badly, so he better step up before he gets dumped.
Note : Out of the bat family, Jason is the one with the most antagonistic attitude towards Danny, the pits recognize him as a threat to their existence and activate a fight or flight response in Jason. He tries to be sneaky and not say anything bad about Danny when his sister is around, but Jazz knows what going on and is deeply disappointed. Also, after six months in the zone, Danny has gotten worse at hiding his ghostly nature.
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