#we don't know if it's his surname or his given name

[jewlwpet]

Recently watched the anime Cinderella Monogatari. It's mostly a faithful adaptation of the fairy tale (with some influence from Disney), but expanded, so a lot of things happen in it that are unique to the anime.

What I liked:

Cinderella and the prince met long before the ball, without her knowing that he was the prince. As a result, their falling in love feels more natural and believable than usual, as it's based on an established friendship. This is the main thing that the anime has going for it.

There's some nice lore like the story of how Cinderella's mother and her fairy godmother first met. Related, it's nice to see the fairy godmother helping her all along in subtle ways, just making her life a little bit easier.

What I didn't like:

There's a villain invented for the anime who has a pointy beard and a non-European name (I think it can be Arabic or Urdu). Either way, it feels racist. I will note that the king (the prince's father) has brown skin, so the villain is not necessarily the only major character of color in the anime... but he is the only character with a non-European name. There's another villain (in just one of the last few episodes) who has thin, slanted eyes, like many Asians have (...including most Japanese people); he's the only character drawn like this.

Much less important but it's a little annoying to me that there's no reference to Cinderella being a mean nickname her stepmother and stepsisters gave her. Instead, it's portrayed as being her actual name.

Also not as important but some of the storylines aren't particularly believable, like when Zalal (the villain I mentioned) gets Cinderella and her stepsisters to act as servants in hope of getting information out of them... he says it's because they live near the palace, but it would make far more sense for him to choose girls from a poor family.

[my-castles-crumbling]

black - November 7th - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 356 - trans!regulus (fits in with my longfic, Clandestine, but can be read alone)

Regulus was ten when he'd chosen his first name. When he'd sat in Sirius's room, hidden away from the rest of the world, and picked the name that reflected who he truly was, and not who his parents wanted him to be.

The first time he'd heard Sirius refer to him with his name, the euphoria had been inexplicable. A rush of joy and emotion so intense he'd lost his breath for a moment. That was his name. Not the name his parents had given him at birth.

But even as he grew and learned to not only celebrate his name, but who he was, something still wasn't perfect. Because as amazing as it was to be referred to as Mister Black, he was still saddled with the surname of his parents. The parents who hated him. The parents who hurt him and screamed at him, just for being himself. The parents he'd finally physically escaped, but was still connected to through a stupid name.

So, really, when the opportunity arose, the decision was the second-easiest decision he'd made in his life. Second-easiest, of course, only to saying, "Yes" when James had gotten on one knee only a few weeks prior.

"I want to take your last name," he whispered one night, curled in James's arms as they sat in their small living room, a fire roaring in the fireplace.

He felt his fiancé's breathing still. They hadn't discussed it at all, up until this point, and he knew bringing it up so randomly was probably a shock.

"Baby..." James whispered, pulling back so they could look at each other, "...you know you don't have to, right? I mean, we have options, we can talk about it. We can- we can hyphenate, we can both keep out own names. Hell, I'm so fucking thrilled to be marrying you, I'll be James Black, if that's what you-"

But Regulus was sure. "No," he shook his head, smiling a bit. "I want to be Regulus Potter."

A stunning smile spread across James's face. "Gods," he murmured, eyes twinkling, "that sounds so fucking good."

Regulus couldn't help but agree.

[queers-gambit]

Blue Bunny

prompt: you and the Twins show up to collect the same debt.

pairing: Tangerine x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Bullet Train

word count: 4.4k+

warnings: Tan's real name being Aaron, Lemon's real name being Brian, Mafia antics, depiction of murder, blood, guns, brief physical violence, given nickname [ Bunny ], Daddy's Girl trope? dialogue heavy fic.

"I like the lilac, what do you think? Maybe the yellow?"

"The pink's rather nice."

"How's about green? For St. Patrick's Day? Celebration of spring?"

Your lover chuckled over the receiver, phone set on speaker to the desk in front of you. "Think I prefer the blue," he replied, the smirk evident.

"You always prefer blue," you teased, handing the bottle of pale blue nail polish to your nail tech. "So, tell me, where are you now? Haven't seen yah all week," You pouted, placing your AirPods in to keep the conversation private. Not like it mattered, your nail tech, Collette, only spoke French, and she was the only other person in the room.

"'Fraid I can't divulge that information, sweetheart," Aaron sighed, "on a bit of business right now."

"Now? Like, in the present?" You chuckled, nodding at Collette when she pointed at the length of the acrylic.

"Yeah," Tan mused back, "say hello, sweetheart!"

"Hello, luv!" Brian, or otherwise known as Lemon, was heard calling. His twin, your lover, used the codename Tangerine for the contract agency they worked for - keeping their identities safe. Something you didn't necessarily have to worry about, being as your name held power. It was something like a shield in the criminal world, everyone knowing your surname dictated fear.

"Oh, hello, my sweetness," you cooed, grinning slyly. "What's it you two are up to? What sort of business are you on?"

"Ah, hang on a tick, love," Aaron mused, setting his phone down. You waited patiently, hearing a series of gunshots ringing out as you watched Collette paint the pale blue in sleek, professional strokes. Screams echoed over the line, tires screeches, several grunts of exertion, but you didn't so much as flinch, just admiring the work your nail tech did.

You blew on your nails, admiring the color.

Collette asked if you wanted to keep the paint shiny or add a matte overcoat, you humming, replying in French that you preferred the shiny coat. She held up a bottle of silver glitter, perking her brows, watching you nod - trusting her artistic eye.

"Hello? Still there, Bunny?" Aaron got back on the line, using your pet name he bestowed on you after your first date. You had a cold coming on, and after he kissed you, you instantly sneezed - nose screwing up like a fluffy bunny.

"I'm here," you smiled.

"Right, what color did you go with?"

You grinned, "Take a guess."

"Blue's your color."

"More like yours. I much prefer pastels, but I think this color's the best of both our preferences."

He chuckled, "Listen, yeah? You free Thursday? I'l be in your neck of the woods."

"Ah, I'm traveling this week," you answered with a pout, "what about next week?"

"I might be able t'swing that, yeah," Aaron agreed easily. "You hear from that Edward bloke recently?"

"No, no, I've told you, I'm done with him. You're quite the jealous type, you know, scared him off real good."

"Ah, well, don't like folks touchin' what's mine, now, do I?"

"Apparently not," you smiled, phone line beeping with an incoming call. "Oh, shit, I gotta go, Aaron, Daddy's calling."

"Mhm, and we all know you betta answer, huh?"

"It's how we all stay alive," you laughed. "Bye."

"See yah real soon, Bunny. Make sure your toes match!"

You hung up with a laugh, then accepted your father's incoming call, "Hi, Daddy."

"Hello, sweet one," he answered. "What are you up to?"

"Collette's doing my nails."

"Ah, very good. What color?"

"A pretty pale blue."

"Wonderful. Tell Collette I say hello. We'll have t'get her a sensational Christmas bonus with the way you work her."

You chuckled, "Yeah, yeah, I know."

"Listen, poppet, I need you to do something for me."

"Mhm, anything you need, Daddy."

"One of our associates is late on payment."

"How late?"

"A week."

"Oh, you're taking time in collecting," you mused, appreciating the full set Collette was detailing. "What's the hold up? Why wait?"

"I'm stuck in Prague."

"Daddy."

"I know," he rushed, "but I need you on this one, princess."

"Who's the associate?"

"Fella name Wilmer DeLano."

"I know of him, doesn't he own the chain of pharmacies? His son and I went to university together, right?"

"The exact same," your father confirmed. "I need you to go collect, princess, please."

"How much is the debt?"

"With the added week, chalks it up to $3 million."

"US dollars?"

"Yeah."

"Since when do we deal in US dollars?" You asked with a curled lip.

"Not the question I think you want to be asking."

"Uh, no, you're right, okay, sure, I can collect. Tonight?"

"He's not expecting it, knows I'm still in Prague. Take Rufus and Gunther with you for protection detail."

"I'd rather take Samuel."

"No, he's doing a different favor for me."

"Daddy."

"He's making a delivery, all right?"

"What about Gunther and Casey? Rufus creeps me out."

"That's fine," your father agreed with a sigh. "Listen, princess, tonight might get a little hairy, so I want you prepared."

"Daddy, I'm literally getting my nails done, I'm not handling a gun. That's what Gunther's for."

"I taught you better than that. You protect yourself, you can't depend on anyone else."

You nodded, "Yes, sir. Do you wanna call the boys or...?"

"I'll call them, don't worry. Just be ready to go by 8. Remember, princess, $3 million - and make sure you count it, too."

You agreed, promising you loved him, then wishing him luck in Prague on whatever his business was. After hanging up, Collette smiled, asking in French, "When are you going to tell him?"

"Tell him what?"

"That you have a boyfriend," she laughed. "He's your father, he'll be happy for you."

"I don't have a boyfriend."

"Oh, please," she scoffed, swiping the glitter on your nails. "That boy that you're always on the phone with? You're not hiding it, not from me."

You felt warmth flush your chest, heating your core. "He's still not my boyfriend," you mumbled stubbornly.

"He picks your nail colors," she grinned, "that's a boyfriend!"

You double checked the address your father sent, nodding at Gunther in the driver's seat. "All right, lads, I want this a clean collection. Just got my nails done," you smirked, the lights of the three-story home still on and indicating DeLano must've been home.

"Yes, ma'am," Casey agreed, getting out of the backseat and opening your passenger door; helping you out, letting you readjust your clingy black dress. Gunther moved around the back of the car, grabbing the usual go-bag brought to every collection.

Slowly, carefully, you stalked up the long driveway, heels clacking with every pace. You let Gunther peer through the windows, him nodding before leading the way to the backdoor. It was simple enough to jimmy the lock open, silently swinging the door wide open and stepping over the threshold.

Casey went around the side to enter through the living room as you walked through the kitchen, surrounding your target. Wilmer DeLano was sat at his dining room table with his wife, looking up when you cleared your throat. He jolted in shock, but Casey blocked the only other doorway; his gun in hand, both clasped in front of him.

Gunther checked the rest of the house.

"Hello, Mr. DeLano," you greeted casually. "Oh, something smells wonderful in here, you cook this?" You asked his wife, casually strolling up to the table, Red Bottoms sounding over the polish hardwood floors. You plucked up a slice of roast, tearing a bite off and humming, "Oh, very good that. You're a lucky man, Mr. DeLano to have such a talented wife."

"Who are you?" The portly woman begged, flinching when you hummed and brandished your gun.

"Right, guessing you don't know," you nodded. "Your husband's in a bit of a lucrative business, Missus. Nice house, though," you gazed around, "lot of fine art you've got hung up, saw all name-brand appliances in your kitchen."

"H-He owns a chain of drug stores - "

"Yes, yes, yes, I know. Very true," you agreed, "but that's only a front, it's not the full picture. I'm here to help illustrate, if you will. C'mon, why don't we all go into the living room? Hear that's where the safe is kept."

"What is happening!?" Mrs. DeLano demanded, gun pointed at her temple.

"Up, up," you demanded.

Slowly, Wilmer lifted from his seat with his hands held in peace, "Okay, okay, we can - let's go talk in the living room. Just don't threaten my wife, she's got nothing t'do with this."

"For now," you agreed, gathering the couple to the living room couch.

"Boss," Gunther alerted, dragging your old university classmate and a previous lover, Edward DeLano, up from the basement, "found this one down there, smoking a joint. Rest of the house is clear."

"Wonderful," you nodded, gesturing for Eddie to sit. "You bring enough to share with the class?" But your old peer just looked around the room of criminals. "Guessin' he didn't wanna share," you pouted, then rolling your eyes. "Well, now that we've all gathered - "

Suddenly, there was a noisy crack and bang as the front door was kicked in, making all three of you gangsters turn with weapons drawn and aimed. However, you chuckled and dropped your arm when you realized it was the Twins, Aaron and Brian, or Tangerine and Lemon, standing in the splintered doorway.

"At ease, lads," you chuckled, holstering your gun to your thigh. "These are friends of mine."

"You outsourced the job? Out your fuckin' mind, princess? Huh?" Casey growled, not lowering his gun as Tan and Lem strolled in.

"Don't fuckin' talk to her like that," Aaron snapped instantly.

"Fuck off, Casey, I would never outsource, I know the fucking rules," you sound more amused than anything.

"Well, ain't this fun?" Aaron mused with a grin, strolling in casually before pausing in the open foyer as Brian tried shutting the door again - but it the very doorframe was shattered, making it impossible. "Sorry 'bout the front door, ol' chap, but you understand, yeah? 'S just business," He nodded at DeLano. "Bunny," he smirked at you, hands in his tailored suit pants pockets; polished Italian leather shoes gently scoffing across the floor.

Aaron magnetized to your side, coiling his arm around your waist to lean in and peck your cheek.

"Hi, handsome. Thought you weren't in town until later?"

"We wrapped a different job early," he answered. "Question is: what're you doin' here, love?"

"Collecting debt payment."

"No shit," he grinned, "so are we."

Your head cocked; leaning into his side with your own arm wrapping around his chiseled waist. You asked, "He owes my father money. You?"

"Owes an associate, too." He smirked at the DeLano's you two stood in front of, "Ain't that right, geezer? Got yourself into a bit of a pickle, didn't yah? Got a bit of a problem with the nose candy, don't'cha, naughty boy?"

"You told me you quit!" Mrs. DeLano hissed, "now you're in debt!?"

"I have it under control," Wilmer deflected stiffly.

His wife sobbed and begged, "W-Would someone please just explain what's going on!? Who are you people!?" Tears fell fast. "What do you want from us!?"

"This ain't rocket science, love, fuck you mean what do we want?" Lemon snickered. "You not listenin' or something?"

"Ah, right, well, I was in the middle of explainin' the situation," you told the Twins, waving a manicured hand in the air as if swatting away a pesky fly. "'Ello, lovie," you grinned at Lemon when he stationed himself on your other side, "good t'see you."

"Sweetheart," he nodded, offering a side hug when you released his brother, "been too long, hasn't it?"

"Since Cancún," you agreed. "Right, then! Onward, ho! Casey, darlin', would you be a doll and open the bag? Get us set up t'count up?"

"'Course, boss," he agreed, kneeling at the mahogany coffee table and unzipping the duffel you brought.

"Right," your hands clapped, the family jumping at the sudden sound, "back to what I was sayin'. See, your husband owns the drug stores, that's true," you allotted, "but he also launders money for the Mafia. For my father, my family. Maybe you've heard of him?"

You relaid your father's first and last name, seeing the Fear of God paint over the DeLano's. "What?" Eddie snapped at his father sat beside him. See, despite dating briefly, you kept your identity a secret from Ed. "What have you done!? Do you know who her father is? Know what he's done!? He fuckin' gutted his own brother - "

"Allegedly," you interjected sharply.

" - all in the name of business! You don't know what this family is capable of!"

"Yes, boy, I'm well aware, the man is my bloody business partner," Wilmer snapped right back.

"Well, not so much of a partner now, are yah? Just more of a fuckin' nuisance," You smirked, earning the attention again. "So, you see, your husband washes our money, earns a significant cut for shouldering the risk. Payment's collected every two weeks and as of today, your husband's a week late on delivering our cash load."

"I-I can explain, please - "

"No need," you cut Wilmer off, "because I didn't get t'where I am now by listening to pathetic explanations. I don't listen to excuses. Fact is, you own my father money, and because you're late, the total is now $3 million - and he wants it in US dollars."

"Well, ain't that somethin'?" Tan smirked at Lem. "Turns out, he owes our client some million, too."

You hummed, nodding, "Right, right, but see, thing is, if my Daddy ain't paid, he goes postal. Nasty business, truly messy, just a chaotic clusterfuck, bodies left everywhere, cities in shambles." Turning back to the family, you offered, "So, we're just gonna make this easy. You cough up what you owe, we won't blow your brains out all over this nice Persian rug. Mmmh! See that, love?" You pointed to the fabric you stood on, looking at Aaron. "That's real authentic, you can tell by the threading. Be a shame to ruin it, yeah? Exquisite work."

"Sure is," he agreed, "but did you see up there, Bunny? 'Bove the mantel?"

"Oh, yes," you breathed in impression, "an ancient Aztec tribal mask. An artifact, very hard to get your hands on. Heard the British Museum was actually lookin' for that particular mask."

"Seems like Mr. DeLano is quite the collector of finer things," Lemon admired, pointing at a portrait on the wall. "Oi! Is that what I think? Is that a fucking Monet?"

"Priceless," you nodded.

"Listen, right, we've got strict orders, yeah?" Your lover sighed, shifting his weight. "We're t'collect payment by any means, a message is t'be sent. Right?"

"That's right, yeah," Lemon agreed, crossing his arms. "Make sure this kinda misunderstanding don't happen again."

Gunther asked, "You need tarps for this?"

You refused, "No, we're not here to kill anyone. We're here to let a loyal man the opportunity to pay us what's owed."

"Listen t-t-to me," Wilmer begged, stuttering in fear, "I don't have the money. Okay? The government came sniffin', I had tax liens to pay off to avoid prison time - "

"More fuckin' excuses! Jesus, fuck, man!" You groaned. "Who do you think can do more damage - the bloody government or my family? Huh? Look, lad, I know you've got what we're owed, so, be a good li'l boy and open the safe. Huh?"

"Fucking do it, Dad!"

"What're you doing, Wilmer? What are you waiting for!? You can't play this game! You'll get us all killed!"

"I don't have the money! How can I pay with what I don't have!?"

"Why do I not believe that?" You mused to Tan.

"'Cause you've been in this business a helluva lot longer than he has," Tangerine / Aaron answered. "You know a rat when you smell one, I reckon."

You nodded, then pulled your gun out again, aiming, and firing at Eddie's knee to shatter his kneecap. Blood splattered onto the couch. He screamed in agony, you raging above the panicked cries and shocked shouts, "Do I have your fucking attention now, Mr. DeLano?"

Edward sobbed in pain, trying to staunch the bleeding, Mrs. Delano gasping and shrieking. "Do whatever they want, Wilmer! For fuck's sake! Just do it!"

"Listen to your wife, mate," Lemon advised. "Unhappy wife, unhappy life, innit?"

You aimed at Eddie's other knee, firing, causing another flurry of screaming, crying, and begging. "If you want your son t'only have two bullets in 'im, I suggest you get moving!" You barked, aiming at Wilmer. "Now!"

"Well, wait a tick," Tangerine halted, "if we're both on the job, how's it gonna look if the geezer's telling us the truth, hey? Who gets the money?"

"Let's find it first, darlin', distribute later," you breathed as Casey finished setting up the automatic money counter. "Mr. DeLano? I advise you to do what we're asking. See, I use to duck hunt - I'm an excellent shot. The next bullet's goin' in your son's head and I never miss. Now, where's the fucking money!?"

"I don't have it! Please!"

"The money, DeLano, where's the fucking money!?"

"Please - "

"You want a dead son!?"

"All right!" He sobbed, "All right, fine! Yes, you win! Just please, please! Don't hurt my family anymore! Please, just leave them alone! I'll do what you want, just - leave them out of this!"

You nodded, "Well, you fucked with my Daddy's money. Only right I cripple you in a sense. Hey? Now, chop chop," you checked your watch for the time, "I'm a very busy bee and don't have all night."

"You're a smart lad, DeLano, we know you would've wanted to prep for a comfy fall if it came to it," Lemon laughed easily from beside you. "Ain't no way you're bone dry, know you have money stashed for security. Just c'mon, mate, these two sickos consider this a sort of foreplay, they'll go all fuckin' night with yah if you continue to refuse," he gestured at you and Tan.

You tacked on, "Lotta places to shoot someone without killin' 'em. Just saying..."

Wilmer stood from the couch, his wife shooting across the newly vacated space to embrace her whimpering son. The money launderer approached the Monet painting and lifted it from the wall; revealing an iron safe. You shared a look with Tangerine, smirking as the combination was entered and the door opening.

"That's what we fuckin' thought," Tangerine sneered, seeing the stacks and stacks and stacks of money. " Fuckin' hell. Right, so, look, count up the lady first. We'll settle after," he sniffed, fluffing his suit's lapel, picking off a piece of lint.

Wilmer began handing stacks to Casey to count, one of your arms crossing over your stomach to prop up your other arm; hand limp in the air. "Faster," you demanded, the man sweating bullets.

"Oh, now, look at that," Tan mused, taking your hand to admire your fresh manicure, "you went with blue."

"Like it?"

"Looks real pretty, Bunny, but I know something these would look better wrapped around," he grinned, making you smack his stomach playfully. "You wanna go get drinks afta this? My treat."

"Sounds like a date," you accepted, Gunther storing the counted cash into the dark duffel. "How's it lookin', Casey?"

"Looks 'bout right, boss," he reported, handing over another stack of banded money. "You want me t'count the Twins up?"

"Oh, if you would please, darlin', it would be very helpful," you nodded. "But I'm having a thought, right? Stay with me, would yah?"

"Oh, go on, toots, you've got great ideas," Lemon encouraged with a chuckle.

"Not always," Casey snickered, "remember what happened in Texas? At that Western bar?"

"Oi, the electronic bull was not my fault!"

"But the incident with the tequila and donkey was!"

"Hush!" You scolded. "Listen, all right, you see, this fucker tried to stiff us all... Let's clear the safe out. Take away any safety net? Truly cripple him, set him back to nothing?"

"Sound like your father," Gunther chuckled.

"That's a compliment," you shot back. "Go on, I want the lot."

Gunther agreed, standing, and approaching the safe. He shoved Wilmer out of the way, sweeping his arm into the safe and starting to load up the duffel. "You can't do this! If you take it all, what are we supposed to do!? How is my family supposed to survive when leeches like you suck us dry!?" Wilmer barked, making the amusement drop from your face.

"Watch your tone."

"No! No, I will not! You think you're high and mighty because of your father, but you're just a spoilt little girl! You all break into my house, extort me - "

"Can you truly extort a criminal? For the money they owe other criminals?" Brian / Lemon wondered out loud as he meandered the living room, making you shrug.

"He likes playing victim," you mused, but in the time you looked over your shoulder, Wilmer charged. You gasped when his shoulder bullied into your gut, tackling you past Tangerine and into the coffee table, shattering it.

"GO! RUN!" He shouted at his family, Tangerine lunging instantly to wrangle him off of you; the breath knocked from your lungs.

"Got some fuckin' nerve, don't yah!? Touchin' my girl!?" He raged, throwing the man to the floor again. "Nobody fuckin' moves!" Aaron growled, gun pointed at Wilmer.

"Not like they can, two blown out knees," Brian grunted as he helped pick you up from the wreck.

"Yeh all right, Bunny?"

"All right, love, yeah," you answered and adjusted your dress, picking up your weapon as Tan began wailing his balled-up fist into Wilmer's face at a jackhammering pace. It was wildly attractive, watching the man you were in-love with beat the shit out of someone who offered you threat and harm. Then something caught your eye, gasping, "Oh, you rat bastard! You broke my fucking nail!"

You yanked Tan back; aiming at Wilmer, pulling the trigger to let a close-range bullet explode the man's head; leaking brain matter on the Persian carpet. You turned to Mrs. DeLano and Eddie, cocking your head as they begged and pleaded for their lives, but you weren't listening anymore. "Got it all, boss," Gunther informed, dropping the stuffed duffel. "What we doin' with them?"

"Exactly what my father would do," you decided. "No witnesses."

"PLEASE! NO, GOD! NO, DON'T, PLEASE! WE WON'T SAY ANYTHING, I SWEAR! I SWEAR! PLEASE! MERCY! MERCY MERCY!"

Three more gunshots sounded, Tangerine's gun smoking before being tucked back into his shoulder holster under his jacket. "Well," he fluffed his lapels again, sniffling harshly, "shall we be on our way, Bunny? We good here?"

"Oh, might as well - got what we needed," you agreed, grimacing when blood bloomed towards your expensive shoes. "Ugh, what a mess. I'll make a call, have this cleaned up, pose it as a murder-suicide," you side-stepped the puddle. "Gunther, Casey, take what you want from this place, get the cash back to the stash house. I'm gonna grab a drink with the lads," you smirked, looping your arm with Aaron's.

Lemon / Brian packed up their share of the money, following behind as Tangerine / Aaron lead you from the house; placing a cigarette between his lips and lighting the end, inhaling, tossing his free arm around your neck. The night was dark and brisk, refreshing on your clammy skin as you stabilized your breathing; always a little shaken after taking life.

Call it morality.

Once in their tinted Mercedes, Brian got in the backseat, Tan rolled his window down to smoke, and you pulled out your ringing cell phone to answer, "Hi, Daddy."

He breathed in relief, "Good, you answered. Means nothing bad happened."

"That's not entirely true," you admitted. "We're leaving now."

"What happened?"

You winced, brushes already forming, "DeLano got bold, he attacked. So we left no witnesses."

"Good girl," he praised. "You feel all right?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'm actually going to drinks with some, uh, friends," you glanced at Tangerine - seeing his lips pulled in a smirk as he started the car and pulled off down the street. "Turns out, DeLano didn't just owe us, but some coke dealer, too. Right, love?" You checked.

"Right," Aaron confirmed, reaching over to plant his hand on your thigh and give a soft squeeze.

"Right, yeah, so, he tried lying 'bout money, I shot his son's kneecaps - "

"That's my girl!"

" - and cleared the safe out. That's when DeLano attacked me - "

"WHAT!?"

"Daddy," you reprimanded softly. "I'm okay. Actually, the hired contractors on the job saved my arse - they showed up after we did with the same agenda. Gunther and Casey are gonna take the cash to a stash house, I gotta call Mr. Brooks about cleaning up."

"Did you say contractors?"

"Yeah, uh, you know, from The Agency?"

"You mean hitmen?"

"Yeah, guess you could say that. Think they're more like contract killers? Verbiage is so fickle."

"Who? Who exactly was there?"

"The Twins, Daddy. Don't worry, they're absolutely charming, only took their payment. We're gonna go for drinks, yeah?"

"Huh," he grunted, "must've been some bigwig t'send them two. Or a considerable debt." You were about to reply when he gasped in realization, "Wait, no. No, no, hang on a tick, don't bloody tell me."

"What?"

"This the lad you've got a thing for, innit? The one that sends yah flowers every other week?"

"Daddy."

"Don't tell me it's that Tangerine fucker, princess, please!"

"Oh, no, look at that, we're heading into a tunnel! I'm gonna lose the call; talk tomorrow, be safe, good luck in Prague, okay, muah! Muah! Muah! Love you! Bye, bye, bye!" You rambled quickly, blowing air kisses, then hanging up swiftly.

"The hell was that about?" Aaron chuckled. "He mad we were there?"

"Not entirely."

"Was he mad you're gettin' drinks with us?" Brian laughed from the back.

"That's a little more accurate. Well," you winced, "he was a bit testy that I'm goin' with Aaron..."

"I haven't done a damn thing to him," he grumbled.

"You do have a bit of a reputation, bruv."

You smiled sweetly, gripping Aaron's hand on your thigh, "He's my father, 'course he's gonna worry."

"'Bout time he found out, keeping you two a secret was mad frustrating, yeah? You two are disgustingly in-love."

Tangerine squeezed your thigh again, sending you a bright grin, "That we are."

requesting rules and masterlist

Bullet Train masterlist

[me-writes-prompts]

:-"You left me. I have nothing to say now." Reuniting lovers angst prompts-:

(Umm yes? Obviously. You want angst. I'm giving you angst. Enjoy!!!!AHHHHHHHH I LOVE THESEEEEE😩😩)

By @me-writes-prompts

"Good to see you again, [surname]." (NOT THEIR GIVEN NAME OR THE NICKNAME THEY USED TO CALL THEM BUT THE DAMN SURNAME, SHIT'S ABOUT TO GET REAL)

“You know, you could’ve at least said a last goodbye.” They say accompanied by a sad humorless chuckle.

“Oh, hi. Didn’t expect to see you here.”

When they leave you and your friend’s the one who supported you. So, when they are back, your friend gets protective of you.

“Did you really think we could rebuild what we had? Rebuild us?”

"I need time to adjust to your existence again."

Those longing stares but not being able to do anything about it, because you don't want to repeat the same mistakes

Telling them to leave you alone, even though you just want to be in their arms

When they smile sadly at you, and you just have to physically restrain yourself from wanting to kiss them

"I'm sorry, I-" "Isn't it a little late for an apology?"

"We could've worked out, if only you didn't act like a jerk and left me."

"Please, I want to make up for what I did in the past. Just please."

"Can we...be more than this? I was an idiot for leaving you, but now I want to make this right. Make us right."

"It feels like...like I'm here with you, but I'm also not here because my present-self is still haunted by my past self, past you, past us."

Them trying to do everything and anything to make it up to you

"I need time, okay? I can't do this right now."

"You should've at least told me why you thought I was better without you. But, no, you just left, like I didn't matter to you. Like, it was only you that needed to make decisions for both of us."

"It's not fair. You're not fair. You can't just come back in my life and expect me to get all lovey-dovey with you. That's not how it works, that's not how life works."

Those accidental touches that have you flinching because it's just been so long since you've touched them. OR you crave touching them more.

"I was a fool for leaving you. But I hope this fool can get a second chance to love." They say with a sad smile, trying to hold in their tears/or maybe full on sobbing.

"It was a misunderstanding, and I get it now. I'm sorry, I should've talked to you." "A single sorry can't make it up, [name]." "I know, and I'm willing to do everything to earn your forgiveness."

[messiahzzz]

it is a conscious choice of mystra to initially present herself as this benevolent, courteous, and merciful being. a practiced and perfected approach she knows will compel gale to follow her demands with the least amount of resistance on his part. he already refused to follow her instructions when she sent elminster to request his death — his effective father figure, gale’s self-proclaimed hero, mentor, and the one who plucked him from obscurity in the first place — so another appeal is in order.

narrator: "elminster's visit weighs heavy on your mind. his face you did not expect to see again." narrator: "when you last saw him, you were in your prime. no orb, no tadpole. a mage of growing renown, all power, pride, and potential - beloved by the goddess of magic herself. narrator: "it's one thing to have fallen from such heights, but to have elminster himself now witness your humiliation is almost unbearable." gale: [his disappointment cuts deeper even than mystra's. he was your hero.] narrator: "while most know of elminster the legend, few know him as you have. he plucked you from obscurity. offered you his guidance. his faith. and most recently, his pity."

yet it is curious how quickly she changes her tune once gale doesn’t readily agree to her demand to return the crown of karsus to her, no questions asked. or even dares to impugn, or criticize her reasoning for leaving him to die.

gale: "a great ask indeed. you've given me much to think on - as you always did." mystra: "so be it. follow the needles of your own wisdom. we shall see how truly it leads you."

gale: "because i disobeyed you. you punished me for it." mystra: "how so? you think i should have cured you? erased the consequences of your actions?"

gale: "you break up with me, cut me off from the weave, leave me to die, and that's all you have to say? 'you look well'?" mystra: "i did not come here to suffer a mortal's admonitions. certainly not yours."

gale: "you were threatened. you realised you couldn't control me." mystra: "you were many things to me, but never a threat. and never a saviour." nodecontext: sharper, almost a warning - don't entertain such thoughts, gale. you won't like where they lead.

gale: "i don't know. i need time to think." mystra: "so be it. follow the needle of your own wisdom. we shall see how truly it leads you."

particularly interesting to note is how she uses his surname as a tool to chastise and taunt him. only referring to him as "gale dekarios" in the context of him displeasing her, when he doesn't readily obey, whether he simply wavers (needing time to think) or outright declines her instructions. she uses the very name he had actively discarded and refuses to be referred to at this point in time. a deliberate reminder of his fallible humanity, of the flaws he tried to distance himself from. she knows this.

gale: "i won't let you down again. when the absolute is vanquished, i will surrender karsus' powers to you. you have my word." mystra: "thank you. may the weave's light guide your purpose, and it's wisdom guide your hand." mystra: "the future of magic rests on your shoulders, gale of waterdeep". mystra: "i promise you - it is a burden you are strong enough to bear."

gale: "i don't need your forgiveness. the crown of karsus will be mine, and the karsite weave will obey me." mystra: "crown yourself, gale dekarios, and you will learn what it is to carry such weight upon your shoulders." mystra: "if it does not crush you, i will." nodecontext: an icy edge entering her voice - a hint of a challenge gale will face if he pursues this course. nodecontext: here we glimpse the true, unimaginable power of mystra. she's still in control of herself, but her anger should be palpable.

i have already addressed the overall topic of mystra & gale's relationship in several posts i wrote some time ago [x] [x] [x]. however, since then we have received new snippets of information with patch 5 that shed more light on the progression of their relationship as a whole. this post is intended to be an update of sorts, containing a more comprehensive list, as well as lore excerpts for added context and proof. i will split this essay into several sections for coherency — buckle in, cause this is going to be a long one!

✧ mystra's history of manipulation ✧

one of the epilogue letters revealed that elminster first sought gale out when he was about 8 years old. which according to gale's canon age being 35 (as listed on his idle champions character sheet) means that their first meeting occurred around 1465 DR. although elminster's wording suggests that this may merely be an estimate on his side.

furthermore - in the ending where gale dies in the attempt at ascension, raphael has the following to say:

raphael: "you were the spark of ambition that rekindled gale's ambitions, after mystra had so cleverly put them to rest."

insinuating that mystra did make an active effort to keep gale in line, to temper his ambition, lest his thirst for more knowledge would eventually prove bothersome for her. keeping an eye on him at all times, keeping him close, placating him, and urging him to be patient.

what distinctly stood out to me is how this also aligns with some of azuth's quotes in the temptation of elminster, while he gives advice to a then-young sage of shadowdale.

we are her treasures, lad—we are what she holds most dear, the rocks she can cling to in the storms of wild art. she needs us to be strong, far stronger than most mortals ... tempered tools for her use. being bound to us by love and linked to us to preserve her very humanity, she finds it hard to be harsh to us—to do the tempering that must be done. she began the tempering of you long ago; you are her 'pet project', if you will. [...]

"you serve mystra differently. she watches you and learns the human side of magic in all it's hues from your experiences and the doings of those you meet—foes and friends alike. yet the time has come for you to change, and grow, to serve as she'll need you to, in the centuries ahead."

and yet again, there is a reoccurring pattern in her relationship with sammaster, another of her chosen, as well:

sammaster fell to his knees and wept upon mystra's feet. they ended up spending ten days together. this made him the first chosen of mystra since the seven sisters. when he asked for the reason that mystra had chosen him, she replied that she had foreseen that one of her chosen would be killed in battle, and he would be the replacement. he left this encounter feeling as though he and mystra were in love.

mystra is no stranger to fostering feelings of boundless devotion that weren't present before. observing her potential chosen, appearing before them, promising them power. luring them into service without the knowledge of what this may entail. where other gods may instill fear, mystra instills the notion of love. practicing seduction while mirroring her chosen's humanity. intentionally portraying herself as someone sympathetic and approachable. syncing their language, highlighting mutuality, making them feel favored and seen. mystra sees no need in the act of divine separation, a display of godlike grandeur — inimitable, menacing, larger than life, towering above her chosen. instead, her manifestation is purposefully unassuming. she meets them in the form of a woman in her early 30s, conventionally attractive, palpable, and appealing to the masses — a human figure. the very embodiment, the very ideal of traditional beauty an impressionable, young wizard may have.

gale: "i can't quite describe it, the need i sometimes feel to see her - to draw the filaments of fantasy into existence." gale: "no sculpture or painting could ever do her justice, only the fabric that she herself is and embodies."

gale: "in her likeness, i used to read a thousand stories. she was beauty, wisdom, elegance, power... she contained universes."

player: “what did mystra’s attention feel like?” gale: “love. [...] perhaps it was not quite love, but you see, the wizard was but a very young man. it was most certainly love to him. [...]"

how we see her in the game is very likely the same form she chose to present to a young gale. beauty, wisdom, elegance. perceived perfection, yet humble in her divinity.

the mystra of now (1490s DR) retains some of the memories of all of her earlier selves, and the relatively young and inexperienced midnight is “in there,” but wholly subsumed. mystra could generate an avatar or seeming that might fool some mortals into thinking they were meeting midnight, but it would be an act. [x]

generating an avatar in the form of a mortal she subsumed. purporting mutuality. midnight was just another mortal added to mystra's long list of "human stock" — vessels intended to preserve her power. favored, chosen, and ultimately suppressed by the very essence of mystra herself. midnight is no equal piece of mystra, the deity, there is no conscious part of the mortal that remains. [x] the mystra that currently exists is a union of the original mystryl, as well as all the other reincarnations of her that melded into her being. fragments of their minds that linger in the weave, scraps of humanity that could perhaps aid in her knowledge and understanding to prevent further betrayals in the future.

mystra's approach has always been indirect, instead of being outright menacing and portentous. the fact that mystra isn't written like the other gods in the game doesn't mean she's more sympathetic to gale's struggles or more inclined to understand human nature. her concern will always be the preservation of her domain and her hold over the weave — to do as the gods do.

gale: "you're one to talk. how many innocents were you prepared to sacrifice if i detonated the orb?" mystra: "such eddies are unexceptional. souls arrive and depart your plane with every tide, in circumstances just and unjust." nodecontext: matter of fact, not interested in these kinds of specifics

ketheric thorm: "who decides what is right? the gods did not care for right and wrong when they dismantled my life piece by piece." ketheric thorm: "and when i tried to buy it back, it cost me everything - everything." ketheric thorm: "we are copper pieces in their belts. tokens to be traded for scraps."

it is often mentioned that mystra makes her attention known by brushing against her potential chosen. whispering to them, touching their skin, eliciting a tingling sensation. which is also how mystra chose to reveal herself to ariel manx (midnight) in 1353 DR, while she was 21 years of age.

gale mentions feeling a similar sensation if he chooses to destroy the summoning circle in balthazar's office at moonrise and thereby receives her blessing.

gale: "did you feel that?" gale: "if i wasn't surrounded on all sides by the darkness of the shadow-cursed lands, i'd think it was mystra herself brushing against my skin."

mystra isn't above using manipulations to get her way. once again evident in her instigating dornal and elué silverhand's union in the first place, as well as intentionally withholding information from dornal that she actively took possession of his wife, elué. to ensure that they would indeed produce her offspring — the seven sisters — her chosen and the vessels to house her power.

where elué had previously been reluctant to acknowledge dornal's advances, he found them suddenly returned with great fervor once mystra took possession of her body. [x]

"by the time elué was carrying her final child, she was in effect a lich - a crumbling shell kept alive only through mystra's power. dornal was shocked at her deterioration. he sought magical aid to cure his wife, and when he learned from the most powerful priest he could find that his wife was possessed by an intelligent force of great power, a sickened dornal tried to slay her. he struck off her head one moonlight night as they walked together in a wooded glade. mystra was forced to reveal herself. dornal was shattered by what he had done, and aghast at how he - and especially elué - had been used." [x]

dornal, who had been kept in the dark throughout, abandoned his lands and children after slaying his wife, traveling to the north, with the plan to seek his own death. he repeatedly tried to poison himself, yet mystra wouldn't allow him suicide and magically neutralized the lethal doses to keep him alive against his will. after his death in 797 DR, mystra turned him into another servant of hers: the watcher — one who wanders the realms, seeking out new potential chosen to this day.

which brings us to...

✧ mystra's foresight and her "death" ✧

mystra possesses a degree of foresight - she foresaw the time of troubles and her own passing at the hands of helm in 1358 DR for defying him and her attempt to converse with the overgod ao without the tablets of fate. the very reason why she sought out mortal vessels to house her power (the seven sisters) — to avoid disaster should another entity win control over her in the chaotic period of wildly fluctuating power struggles that was the time of troubles. this divine power slumbers within these individuals, which she can call upon.

in 1385 DR mystra (midnight) was struck down by cyric and shar, which brought upon the spellplague.

in 1479 DR mystra was located by elminster inside a cave in cormyr, guarding her mortal body. she survived cyric's assassination by inhabiting the body of a bear, while still able to contact her chosen. she returned to her full power in 1487 DR.

the important part, that i've often seen outright ignored or misinterpreted by fandom altogether, is that mystra wasn’t actually “dead” for over a hundred years. at least not in the way we perceive it. we can’t equate her death with our mortal understanding of it. her powers were diminished to an extreme and she was weakened, yet she was still able to communicate. it was in her power to contact her chosen and to guide them. evident by her calling for elminster through her telepathic link and directing him to recruit other chosen for her to restore her power.

the plot of baldur’s gate 3 takes place in 1492 DR. meaning gale's actual year of birth would be 1457 DR. while elminster likely sought him out around 1465 DR, when he was only 8 years old. however, i once again want to emphasize that “couldn’t have been more than 8 summers old” indicates that this may merely be an estimate on elminster's side. he could’ve possibly reached out to him even earlier than that, or perhaps later. gale was 22 year old at the time when mystra was found in her diminished state by elminster in 1479 DR.

✧ mystra's awareness✧

gale: “so, all it took to get mystra’s attention was to learn how to reforge an artifact that once destroyed her." gale: "it's obvious, when you stop to think about it."

even if you may personally be skeptical of elminster’s insertion into gale’s life at age 8 (as well as mystra's ability to contact her chosen during her death) to be enough evidence of mystra’s attention — she had to be aware of him for his talents alone since he was a mere child. there is no way around this.

player: "how could she possibly know we read a book? hasn't she got more important things to worry about?" gale: "the weave is a highly sensitive magical network threaded through all life on this plane. any shift in magical energy, no matter how small, is akin to a beacon, alerting mystra to its cause." gale: "opening a book like the annals of karsus was akin to us shooting a firework spelling 'look at us, mystra!' directly into the skies of elysium. she knows."

mystra IS the weave, as gale himself has stated several times. it is an extension of her being, threaded through all life. by touching the weave one is directly touching the goddess of magic herself. mystra is aware of any magic user, able to deepen this contact at her choosing.

shadowheart: "isn't it so, that every time you speak as you cast a spell, you're endeavouring to call upon mystra?" shadowheart: "i'm surprised she still listens to you." gale: "she has no choice - she's sworn to hear all magic users. even me." gale: "i'm sure she at least stuffs her fingers in her ears to muffle my invocations."

gale described himself as a child prodigy. a virtuoso that was able to manipulate and compose the weave at will from an early age.

gale: "magic is... my life. i've been in touch with the weave for as long as i can remember. there's nothing like it."

gale: "i'm what one might call a wizard prodigy, who from an early age could not only control the weave, but compose it, much like a musician or a poet."

gale: "such was my skill that it earned me the attention of the mother of magic herself. the lady of mysteries. the goddess mystra." gale: "she revealed herself to me and she became my teacher. in time, she became my muse, and later, even my lover."

someone who was able to perform feats way beyond the skillset of his peers. he managed to wield the blackstaff itself, accidentally facing an irritated death slaad, and lived to tell the tale. he summoned and befriended tara, as well as the magma mephit, k'ha'ssji'trach'ash. we also know from elminster that he was able to cast fireball — a 3rd level spell — at age 8.

it is indisputable that mystra must’ve taken notice of the precocious young wizard during this time, even in her diminished state. much like she had once observed midnight. she began to whisper to him, drawing back the veils, revealing herself bit by bit, urging him that he was special — chosen.

gale: "he fancied himself much more than that. he fancied himself favoured above all others. [...] mystra showed him the secrets behind the veils. the gossamer veils first, draped across the weave. the delicate veils next, draped across her body. ‘chosen one’ she whispered, as she slipped them off completely."

✧ final part: power imbalance & exerting control ✧

gale: "the weave is still here, all around us - inside of us too. as long as the goddess lives, magic is a tangible thing for those who know how to touch." gale: "i've studied magic for many years, and in as many ways i am still a more than capable wizard." gale: "it's just that i'm no longer able to perform those feats even arch wizards would marvel at." gale: " to have one hand on the pulse of divinity." gale: "you have to remember that the weave is a living thing, both the embodiment and the extension of mystra herself." gale: "she can give and she can take away. i'm afraid i'm still very much on her naughty list."

gale: "mystra commands all magic. salvation, if such a thing exists, is hers to bestow or withhold." gale: "and yet, even now, more than i fear losing my own self and soul, i fear losing my command of her art."

player: "he sounds like a very talented individual." gale: "he was. even though it was in mystra’s affections that his true power lay."

even apart from their innate different forms of existence as a mere mortal and the literal goddess of magic, mystra is in full control of gale's power at all times, able to grant and withdraw her favors at will. claiming that such a power imbalance doesn’t exist, that it doesn’t apply to their respective relationship, that it might’ve been “healthy” at one point if gale was indeed of age at the time their relationship transitioned into a sexual nature is —pardon my french— fucking insane.

this stance disregards everything we know about the gods, about mystra’s involvement with other mortals and her chosen. it disregards the level of authority she wields over any magic user. it carelessly and naively disregards the implicit difference in power. mystra is the goddess of magic, his goddess. the very object of his worship and adoration since childhood. the goddess he devoted his life, his work, and his unyielding loyalty to. it is ultimately irrelevant at what exact point their relationship underwent its final transition from muse to lover. this discussion is redundant. mystra has been a constant presence since his early childhood. his worship of her began with the practice of his first spells, even if it wasn't conscious at the time. every practitioner of magic inevitably honors mystra, regardless of their faith in her. magic is his life, in the same way that mystra is pure magic. she is in total control of the tools he wields.

✧ summary ✧

mystra possesses a degree of foresight, already knowing about the time of troubles & her subsequent passing. this being her reason to seek out mortal vessels to secure her power.

mystra feels any shift in magical energy no matter how small, immediately alerting her. gale was able to cast a third-level spell at age 8.

mystra has a history of instilling feelings of love that weren't present before and using her chosen/other mortals for her own means. (elminster, khelben, sammaster, the seven daughters, ariel manx etc.)

mystra's manifestation is a conscious choice. midnight has been wholly subsumed by her.

mystra wasn’t actually “dead” in 1479 DR, but merely diminished. she was inhabiting the body of a bear and was still able to communicate with her chosen. she directed elminster to recruit other chosen to restore her power.

elminster sought gale out around 1465 DR when he was about 8 years old, as stated in the epilogue letter.

mystra first functioned as gale’s mentor, then his muse, and later his lover.

gale’s relationship with her was indeed of a sexual nature, he has explicitly stated so several times. their intimacy wasn't restricted to incorporeal interactions either, even though they were preferred.

during the ending where gale fails to ascend raphael states during the credits that tav has “rekindled gale’s ambitions after mystra had so cleverly put them to rest”.

azuth describes mystra's chosen as "tempered tools for her use". being bound to them by love and linked to them to preserve her very humanity.

mystra's intention to shape gale into yet another loyal, devoted asset to her portfolio has been there from the very moment she chose to reveal herself, to instruct elminster to seek him out. it was a conscious decision to directly insert herself into gale’s life, sowing his conviction that he was favored above all others. singling him out among his peers, isolating him with subtle promises of his greatness, his uniqueness, and all he could yet accomplish to be under her guidance. offering him her teachings, her inspiration, and eventually her love. yet all the while tempering his perceived greed and thirst to reach for even greater heights, unless it acted in her favor. keeping him close — lest his growing ambitions should ever prove to be an outright challenge to her rule.

the groundwork has been carefully laid from the very beginning.

gale: “goodnight. and thank you for your patient understanding. [...] try not to think too poorly of me. a cat can look at a king. a wizard can look at a goddess.”

[nvoirs]

Could you do a Leon one shot where him and the reader are still in Spain and he catches Luis checking the reader out? Causing Leon to reveal his lust and love for the reader

I love this so much oh my gosh, here you go <3

You were glad that you and Leon had met Luis. The man was a ball of sunshine and he brightened up your mood when he cracked jokes every once in a while, he was also determined to help in your ‘quest’ as he called it.

“Luis, you really know how to make a crowd laugh.” You walked alongside him as Leon trudged behind his gaze hard but that’s just how he always was. You didn’t expect Leon to care if Luis was basically flirting with you, staring you up and down every time he engaged in a conversation with you, he’d never so much as shown a romantic interest in you.

“Senorita I only impress the best ladies, you could say that I’m a ladies man.” His big grin made Leon want to punch it off. His irked expression dissipated and his hands unclenched dropping at his sides when you glanced back at him giggling from Luis’s comment.

“Hey Leon, we can stop here and take a break.” You gestured to the small empty cabin, no ganandos in sight to try and snatch up Ashley.

“Baby eagle will be safe.” You added on. In reality, you were so exhausted your legs were sore from all the sprinting you’d done.

“Alright.” His curt response was expected. Ashley pipped up by Leon’s side clutching his arm which made you a bit annoyed but you really had no reason to be since you were shamelessly flirting with Luis. But Leon didn’t care, did he?

She mumbled about how she hated that stupid code name she was given, like what even is baby eagle? Her grumbling made you roll your eyes, as Leon made her sit down on the chair in the creaky old cabin.

“Take this time to rest.” Ashley nodded at him, her heart eyes evident had you turning your back and shutting the door harshly. Leaning your shotgun against the stony moss covered wall you pulled off your fingerless gloves before stuffing them into your back pocket.

You hadn't heard the creak of the cabin door open and Leon make his way around to you. “Cleaning weapons without me? No fair.” you gave him a look before turning around and continuing cleaning your handgun with the now dirty rag.

“What's up with you? you and Luis were just having a party of a conversation before.”

That pissed you off. “And have you got a problem with that Agent Kennedy?” The surname basis made Leon flinch as he trapped you between his arms caging you between the cabin wall and himself.

“Why are you really pissed, Agent?”

“I don't know, maybe ask Ashley.” You shot back. Oh shit you dumbass.

“Oh? don't tell me you're jealous of the president's daughter's hospitality, don't be It's just the way she was brought up.” His hand inched its way towards your leg, you could smell the mint of his breath gently fanning over your startled face.

“I'd say you have a little crush on me.. no? Forcing It onto Luis to get back at me.” His free hand that wasn't holding his gun came in contact with the softness of your dirt caked skin. He wiped a streak of mud with his rough padded thumb from under your eyelid and you let out a small squeak.

“I bet you'd like it if I did this, wouldn't you.” You weren't even thinking straight as Leon pressed against you, slotting your mouth against his as you drank in his sweet lips. You muffled gasps and whines had him chuckling as he pulled back, a string of fated saliva still connected.

“Luis and Ashley are only behind this wall, maybe talking but they'll probably hear you if you make a sound.”

Your eyes widened when Leon unzipped your tactical pants in one swift motion, pulling them down to your mid thighs. Exposed and vulnerable to Leon's intentions he had a full view of your underwear that was collecting your wetness inside. He got you so wet it kind of scared you if he was going to see he would never let you live it down.

“Pink panties? that's so cute.” His cooing made you shiver, but you let him do as he pleased. His fingers dipped into the side of your underwear as he shamelessly stroked your bare cunt. The short gasp that you let out had him continuing. Latching his mouth onto yours again drinking in your cries of pleasure, as he shoved two of his fingers into your sopping mess of a pussy.

The thrusts were fast and you could hear the squelching of your cunt as Leon pumped his fingers inside of you. A third finger rubbed at your weeping clit, sending electric bolts of pleasure through your weakened body. Your watery eyes were rolling to the back of your skull, legs trembling like jelly as he literally forced your orgasm from you. You came on his fingers whimpering into his mouth, your pussy still clenching around his fingers as he pulled out.

“Open your mouth, know you'd love it, such a slut.” Leon tutted as you opened your mouth eagerly sucking on his fingers tasting yourself on them.

“Please Leon, need more.” Clenching your thighs together, as you stared up at his looming figure. His arrogant stare intimidated you as he grinned.

“Maybe if you don't go near Luis, you're still indebted to me. I think I deserve something for my efforts.”

And you were dropping to your knees before he could even ask.

[theboombutton]

Bad Fictional Data vs Fictional Bad Data

WARNING: This post will include discussion of a name that might be Alice Dyer's deadname. I won't be calling Alice by this name or using it in the context of that name being a pointer to Alice, but I will be using the name, uncensored, when talking about where and why the name appeared in chdb.xls .

----

You may know that as part of the ARG, the sleuths on Statement Remains uncovered a document called chdb.xls, allegedly a list that has something to do with The Magnus Institute. There's a list of names, ID numbers, first and last names, dates of birth, and information apparently related to each person's "score" in an assortment of psychological/personality tests. Three of the names in particular have stood out in a lot of analyses: Samama Khalid, Gerard Kaey [sic], and Connor Dyer.

You likely don't know that the commonly linked version of the spreadsheet, ported to Google Docs and linked in the TMAGP ARG Masterdoc, is presented out of order. (I'm guessing they didn't lock down editing until it was already all out of order from various people messing with it - totally understandable, this is not a callout post, thank you for making this easily accessible to people.)

But let me tell you about something I discovered by looking at the spreadsheet in its original order, and the almost certainly incorrect rabbit hole of theorizing it has sent me down.

Bad Fictional Data

Until episode 2 I had the same thought about the Dyer listed in the spreadsheet that I think most people did: that it was Alice's deadname, and that she had therefore been one of the Institute's young subjects. But after Alice had absolutely no reaction when Sam mentioned the Magnus Institute to her in episode 2, I now think this is significantly less likely.

Don't get me wrong: it's still reasonable to think that the Dyer listed in chdb.xls is Alice. Maybe she had some kind of supernatural experience that wiped her memory. (It probably wasn't that Alice was too young to remember, as the Dyer on the spreadsheet is listed as being at Piaget Stage 3, which occurs from 7-11 years old; but it's always possible that the Magnus Institute was using the names of legitimate psychological tests to hide their tracks when recording more esoteric data.) The point is, this isn't hard evidence that Alice has no connection to the Magnus Institute; it just made me go looking for more evidence.

I went back to the spreadsheet to look for more clues about whether or not this was Alice's deadname. What I found instead was some extremely sloppy fake data at the bottom of the spreadsheet.

For context, here are first ten names in the spreadsheet:

Note how each ID begins with the name's first and last initial.

Now check out the last ten names:

Not only do these IDs no longer always match their subjects' names, they occur in order: CD, EF, GH, IJ, KL, MN, OP, QR, ST, UV. The first names of each pair match the first letter of each ID, but many, though not all, of the surnames don't match the second letter.

My first thought was that whoever Rusty Quill had contracted to generate these names had gotten sloppy at the end of the list, created the IDs all at once using this alphabetical pattern, and picked names to fill in that roughly matched the IDs. But hey, we could use this to our advantage! Any name that was filled in as part of a series of IDs with an alphabetical pattern like this could be removed from consideration for red string analysis - we'd know they were meaningless fakes added by a lazy contractor, and not clues or characters that might show up again later.

Scrolling back up the spreadsheet, we can see the person generating the data having more care the earlier we go. We find the beginning of the AA/BC/DE/FG/HI pattern at line 136, but at first, the names mostly conform to the initials they've been given. JK09874 "Josie Jordan" at line 154 is the first break from the "first two letters of the ID are their initials" pattern; and breaks occur more often the further you go down the sheet.

Scrolling up to before line 136 (AA09911 - Aaron Atkinson), while the pattern isn't yet at AB/CD/EF/GH levels of obviousness, the first initials are still in alphabetical order. Zoe Hart follows Yara Logan follows Xavier Freeman follows Wyatt Edwards. The data creator skips a few letters - for example Niamh Fenton is followed by Phoebe Emmett, and S and T are together in the same line in Skye Travers.

We can follow this less-obvious version of the alphabetical pattern up to an abrupt break right at line 118, above which the IDs don't follow an alphabetical pattern at all. (They might follow a different pattern, but it's not one that I've found yet.) So that means we can discount all the names in line 118 and below as purely fake, generated lazily by a contractor, and not worthy of our attention for the purposes of red-stringing. Right?

What the fuck?!

(highlight is my own, it is not present in the original document)

My first thought was that the sloppy data generator had done the funniest thing imaginable, sending everyone on a wild goose chase about Alice's deadname just by having the name "Dyer" on the brain while looking for a surname that started with D. This would be Very Funny. No plot relevance, no implications, just the brain fart that launched a thousand theories.

My second thought was that maybe Connor Dyer was the last legit name on the list, and whoever started filling the rest of the sheet in with alphabetical junk data was inspired by the "CD" initials in the first place - whoever it was went on from there.

These are both valid thoughts! But I prefer my third thought:

What if it's on purpose?

Fictional Bad Data

There is a very obvious break between the set of data that doesn't look obviously* fake, and the set of data that is immediately identifiable as such. If we assume that this was intentional - and I want to reiterate that it all being unintentional is still a very real possibility here - why would someone at Rusty Quill want the data to be structured like this?

If the sharp dividing line between reasonable-seeming data and obviously fake data is intentional on RQ's part, it would suggest that we should take the data above row 118 as in-universe real data, and the data below row 118 as in-universe falsified data. It suggests that someone, either at the Institute or after its demise, was adding nonexistent children to the roster of The Magnus Institute. Why would someone want to do that?

There are all kinds of possible reasons, but here are a few off the top of my and my theorizing buddies' heads:

Financial fraud (institutional edition). If the Magnus Institute received funding on a per-child basis, they'd have an incentive to inflate their numbers.

Financial fraud (researcher edition). One or more people on staff were blowing off their child-analysis sessions and recording fake numbers for fake children. This would be ballsy as hell if they could be fired for it, but it was the Magnus Institute, so there's decent odds they couldn't be.

Scientific fraud (faking conclusions edition). The Magnus Institute in the Protocolverse claimed to be doing research on giftedness in children, which is the kind of thing that you'd normally publish in a scientific journal. It's not unheard-of for dickhead academics to falsify data to generate statistically significant results, since statistically insignificant results aren't going to get you published.

Scientific fraud (obscuring paranormal bullshit edition). If the Magnus Institute was using legitimate psychological test names to record Fear-related test results, it's possible their results showed different patterns from what you would expect from the real tests. They could have added the fake children to balance out the dataset as a whole.

Pseudonyms. The children are all real, the Institute just started using fake names for them for privacy purposes. They couldn't go back and change the names they'd already written properly for some reason. Probably something paranormal.

Those are all pretty interesting possibilities, and if we could narrow them down, it might tell us something about what things were like at the Magnus Institute before it burned down!

And the other big question is: why did RQ make the dividing line between the two sections, the first likely-fake entry, Connor Dyer?

One straightforward reason could be as a troll, a red herring to watch fans get in a lather over. And once the community inevitably noticed all the obviously falsified entries, RQ could eat popcorn and watch us lose our minds over whether or not that's even a real entry! (That sounds really fun, I would absolutely do that.)

But let's dig a little deeper, and look at what Connor Dyer being on the border between the real and fake entries would mean in-universe. Because of its position as the border between real and fake, it would be very easy for that entry to be accidentally included in the wrong group - a real research subject discarded as fake, or perhaps more interestingly, a fake research subject accidentally reclassified as real.

Remember, if a name is fake in the context of the Magnus Institute's research, that doesn't mean that the name itself is made up. If I was trying to think of a name that fit the initials CD, and those were the initials of my next door neighbor's kid, I might just write their name in as a lark. Especially if it was my first time trying to get away with falsifying information: this is a kid that verifiably exists and lives in the area.

My theory, supported primarily by my love for The Implications instead of actual evidence

Twenty years on, after all institutional memory of the fraud was long gone, trans icon Alice Dyer applies to work for the OIAR - an institution that (according to this theory) has an unofficial preference for hiring former Magnus Institute kids.

They are very confused when Alice proceeds to act nothing like a former Magnus Institute kid. It doesn't occur to anyone that her entry might have been falsified. What reason would anyone have to do that?

----

* Of course people with a background in data analysis or statistics will see immediately that even above line 118 this is a wild-ass dataset that would raise red flags for falsification, but at least it's not "the alphabet over and over" levels of obvious.

[thedensworld]

Naming Is Fun | K.Mg

Pairing: husband!Mingyu x reader

Genre: fluff

Words count: 450

Summary: Mingyu knows that you are his laugh button, but he can't believe your suggestion over the baby name.

"How about 'Bapi'?"

"Kimbap."

Mingyu let out an exasperated groan, clearly accustomed to your antics. He'd heard countless suggestions, and you couldn't help but chuckle at his exaggerated reactions. It had already been almost a thousand suggestions, a number he playfully exaggerated. But he had indeed heard them all: Kimchi, Kimchijim, Kimchiguk, Kimchi Bokkeum, Kimtteok, Kimmari, Gimhae-si, and everything else that started with Kim.

It all began when Mingyu, in a rare bout of confidence, claimed that his surname could make any name sound beautiful. As his loving wife, you couldn't resist the temptation to playfully challenge his assertion.

"For a person with a word like 'seaweed' as their surname, you're certainly very confident," you quipped.

"What does it feel like to have 'seaweed' as your surname?" you asked, trying to stifle your laughter. This question led you to start listing possible names for your future child.

"How about 'Chijeon'? 'Kimchijeon'..."

"Or 'Kimguk'... We'll make them seaweed soup every day, because every day would be their birthday." Your excitement about giving the baby a name with the most random words you could think of brought a smile to Mingyu's face, even though he playfully claimed to dislike them.

"Imagine naming them Bap, 'Bap! Kimbap, come here.' They won't live their life in peace." Mingyu chuckled as he played out a scenario in his head of his future children trying hard to navigate life with a name given by their mom.

"But 'Bapi' is a cute nickname. We haven't had a nickname for them." Your hand went to your growing tummy, feeling several kicks from inside your belly, assuming it was their response to the nickname you'd given them.

Mingyu let out a soft chuckle when he saw a line of little feet on your stomach. "You like your nickname, Bapi?" Mingyu asked. His hand reached your belly before he planted a few kisses on it.

After kissing your belly, Mingyu cupped your cheeks and planted a kiss on your lips. "Stop throwing out silly names! We'll have a serious discussion later about it," he stated and planted another kiss on your forehead before enveloping your body with his arms.

"What's important now is your health. As long as you're healthy, the baby will be healthy."

"Happy mother, happy baby. I'm happy naming them 'Po'," you said, suddenly mentioning 'Po' as Gimpo, a city where the international airport was hosted.

Mingyu couldn't help but chuckle. "Gimpo... I can't believe you would think about Gimpo," he said, pinching your cheek.

When you were about to mention another name, Mingyu immediately planted a kiss on your lips, stopping any names from escaping your mouth.

*

"Kimbap?! You're kidding, hyung. You want to make another Boo Seungkwan?" Chan stifled his laugh as soon as he gained a scowl from none other than the Boo Seungkwan himself when he heard his name mentioned.

Mingyu chuckled while he painted the wall blue, "nah, just a nickname. I already have a name in mind, but I want it to be a surprise. My wife is too lazy to discuss a name with me," he explained to the two younger boys who were currently helping him with the nursery.

"Just don't name him Bap," Seungkwan muttered while painting the other side of the wall with white paint.

"Bap is cute." Your voice was heard as you entered the room with drinks and snacks on a plate. Mingyu smiled, releasing his hands from the gloves as he approached you and took the drinks and snacks.

"Bap likes his nickname," Mingyu said to Seungkwan, handing him the snacks. Seungkwan rolled his eyes, "he was indoctrinated even before he was born," he sighed, gaining a laugh from Chan.

"Why not Mari?" Chan asked you and Mingyu. You raised your palm to give him a high five while Mingyu sighed.

"Right? But it was for a girl though... Since he'll be a boy, Bap it is," you said, your hand going to your belly and rubbing it with love.

Seungkwan laughed, "Kim Mari..." He stifled his laughter when he realized what Chan had initiated earlier.

Mingyu playfully hit Seungkwan's arm with his gloves, "shut up," he said. "You have a worse surname."

[reblogandlikes]

Unknown mother and sister.

I know people have spoken about authors using female anguish or pain placed upon them to develop the male characters before, but it honestly bugs me so much when it comes to Rhysand. His whole shtick for the Great Retcon of Tamlin is helped through the past actions of Tamlin’s so-called betrayal that led to the murder of his mother and sister (we still don't know the whole story. Heck, Rhysand himself still doesn't know the whole story, yet acts as he does - go into his mind and find out), but what do we even know about these women other than to serve as Rhysand's ever lasting resentment?

We have no names. We have no solid personalities than the vague stereotypically female qualities of "kind hearted" and "caring." The mother randomly made dresses in a revealing design that doesn't match the Illyrian's prudish aesthetic at all when it comes to female’s and how did she even get her ring in the weavers hands and how would retrieving it display anyones worth of her precious son? That in itself could have been a whole back story along with her and any extended family. Then there's the sister who we also know nothing about. And even in CC3 (hofas) Azriel mentioned that Helena, during that holographic scene in the Prison, looked similar to Rhysand’s sister. In that moment, a name could have been given, SJM! That was a perfect opportunity, but nah, I guess.

The point being, these women were Rhysand’s heart. Azriel's heart. Cassian’s heart, and yet we know practically nothing about them beyond the surface. They were tracked and murdered for...reasons. Beheaded and wings removed to debase them further, but what attachment are readers meant to have other than to say, "Aww, poor Rhysand, how horrible"? Tamlin lost his mother too, but his story isn't as wrapped up in the loss as Rhysand’s is, so his mother being dead isn't meant to hold that much weight nor granted much sympathy despite neither women having names nor much back story. Women killed due to other men's (the fathers) anger and vengeance. Women's deaths meant to set the tone and nothing else. Senseless. Pointless.

We know more about Mama Archeron than any of them, yet even that information is scarce, and she's the dead parent of the FMC. We know more about Alis than them. We know more about Amarantha and her sister, Clythia, than them. We know more about Myriam than them.

So someone tell me why I'm meant to take Rhysand seriously and his devastated, broken heart for his losses when they're used as nothing but tools to excuse he behaviour and justify his feelings despite us never getting to know the true memory of them?

I wish we learnt more. She was the first Illyrian Lady ever! That's interesting! What did she do to help her own people? Did she care? Why did she allow Rhysand to go to those camps? Did she have a choice? What did the sister do in her years alive? Did she have dreams? I still think a little romance between the sister and either Cassian or Azriel would have been an interesting twist.

So many books, and we're given crumbs. So many books and so many characters don't even have names, let alone surnames. I know the genre is romantasy, but c'mon. And I'm just tired of random female trauma being used to further a males tragic backstory and nothing else.

[sly-s-n0nfusion]

Irl world inspirations for Orsterra and Solistia 🗺 pt1

So I've wanted to write this post for a while and I think I finally feel comfortable enough to do so. I will cover the 8 Orsterra regions as well as Solistia's regions, and also declare a hypothetical irl nationality for all 16 travelers, since some of them aren't native to their starting region.

I won't be covering COTC content because I feel like it does make quite a mess especially regarding the Woodlands. A huge thank you to my friends @sazuka57, @legendaryandroid, @hanpaopaoo, @saarovar, @silverwarewolf, @captwaddledoo, @postalninja and others

Of course, this is just the final product of speculations and none of the info here are official/canon, but I hope this post does help any content creator with their art or writing :)

Orsterra

the Frostlands: The cold regions were perhaps the hardest place to pinpoint a clear irl world inspiration for. The Frostlands could be Finland (Lapland), even though the Flamesgrace church is clearly of catholic inspiration. We now that Ophilia Clement isn't native of Flamesgrace, but she was taken in by Archbishop Josef for she was an orphan. I would even say her name and surname were given to her by the Archbishop himself, since they sound like names members of the clergy would give orphans (especially the surname, Clement, which is similar to orphans' surnames like Innocent, or Godswill). In the Octopath official Guide book timeline is stated that she comes from a small village named Creek, in the Riverlands

Lapland, Finland

the Flatlands: Given how the Flatlands are a kingdom of their own (the kingdom of Wold) with their capital city being Atlasdam and featuring a Royal Palace and a king, I think it's safe to say that the inspiration for this region was England. Atlasdam probably mimics a place like Oxford or Cambridge, given its academic nature and the vaste grassy areas, with Whispermill's flocks of sheeps and mills, give off British countryside vibes. Also because of his name and accent, Cyrus Albright sounds British to the core

Oxford, England

the Coastlands: I believe the inspiration for the Coastlands are the coasts of Italy, especially Liguria's Cinque Terre. Rippletide, Goldshore and Grandport all seem to have the same similar aesthetic to it of Italian harbour towns. Tressa Colzione, as well as her parents Olneo and Marina all have names of Italian inspiration

Cinque Terre, Italy

the Highlands/Hornburg: The inspiration for both the Highlands and Hornburg is probably Southern Germany or Austria (Bavaria/Austrian Alps) because of the very high mountains and German-sounding names. Olberic Eisenberg comes from Hornburg, Erhardt comes from Grynd (which was stated to be a village near Hornburg) so it's safe to say both have germanic origins

Austrian Alps

the Sunlands: This region is probably of Middle Eastern/Arabic inspiration, and it's understandable because of the architecture, the villagers' clothing style and the spice markets around the Sunland towns, to say some. Primrose Azelhart, however, is native of Noblecourt, in the Flatlands, so she probably also has British origins like Cyrus

Palangan, Iran

the Riverlands: This one was a bit tricky to understand. A very green land, rich in water and with catholic influences (Saintsbridge) immediately made me think of Ireland. Not clearer evidence I can bring to the table other than that though. Irish Alfyn Greengrass does sound right to me though

Westport, Ireland

the Cliftlands: The Cliftlands seem to have Peruvian inspiration to them. The local monsters encounters being big eagles/condors, the villagers having colorful cloths in their houses and the main local resource being alpaca fleece (I know I said I wouldn't bring up COTC in my argumentations but I'cirlo was a clear example of alpaca farms). We don't know much about Therion as he is likely an orphan as well but his poncho also might be of Peruvian inspiration

Peruvian Andes

the Woodlands: The Woodlands are heavily inspired by Norse culture and Viking architectures. the village of S'warkii especially, where H'aanit and Z'aanta come from, is clearly inspired by the village of Njardarheimr, in Norway

Njardarheimr

Part 2 (Solistia) coming soon!!

[the0doreslover]

Friends in the dark | m.r

In the shadowed halls of hogwarts, Mattheo Riddle, the enigmatic son of the feared Dark Lord, found himself grappling with conflicting emotions. The weight of his lineage bore heavily upon him, as did the burden of his own destiny. He was surrounded by whispers of power and conquest, yet a gnawing sense of emptiness gnawed at his heart.

Amidst the darkness, a glimmer of light emerged in the form of Y/N Potter, a witch who possessed a fiery spirit that matched her famous surname. Though they hailed from different worlds, their paths crossed one fateful evening during a clandestine encounter deep within the Forbidden Forest.

"I never thought I'd find anyone else wandering these woods at night." she said.

"Likewise. It's a place of solace for me." he replied

Their first meeting was marked by a sense of curiosity and wariness, an unspoken recognition of each other's struggles. Mattheo, accustomed to manipulation and deceit, found himself surprised by Y/N's genuine concern.

"You're Mattheo Riddle, aren't you?" she asked

“Yes, that's me."

She saw past the name he bore and glimpsed the boy within, trapped between loyalty and the longing for something more.

"You know… you don't have to be defined by your family. You have a choice."

As the moon cast its silvery glow upon the forest floor, Mattheo shared his fears and desires, confessing the internal conflict that tormented him.

"I'm torn between the path I've been born for and the one I secretly yearn for."

y/n in turn then voiced her worries

"Living up to the Potter name isn't easy. Everyone expects greatness from me because of harry."

Their conversations continued in secret, each encounter revealing more layers of their shared vulnerability. Mattheo discovered Y/N's passion for reading as well as poetry.

"You have bravery in you, Y/N. a certain type bravery I wish I could find within myself."

“maybe you just haven’t looked hard enough” the girl said giving him something to think about

Their bond deepened, and they found comfort in each other's presence.

"With you, I feel understood. I've never had that before." the boy voiced

"We're not as different as it seems. We both want something more." she replied

But their connection did not go unnoticed.

"Interesting company you keep, y/n." her friends would often say to her

hogwarts corridors became fraught with danger, and the choices they made could alter everything about their lives.

"We must be careful. Our friendship could have consequences." mattheo said one night before they sat and talked till the sun set.

In the heart of the forest, under the same moon that had witnessed their first meeting, Mattheo and Y/N vowed to support each other, and be each others lifeline.

"No matter what happens, we'll face it together." y/n made him promise one night

"Y/N, you've given me hope. Something I thought I'd lost."

the girl, in turn, found a confidante who understood the complexities of her world.

In the midst of a world torn between light and darkness, Mattheo Riddle and Y/N Potter discovered a rare and precious connection. United by their shared struggles and a shared desire for a different path, they forged a bond that would shape their destinies in ways neither could have anticipated. The love they shared couldn’t be described on paper

[malbontesvicky]

"Question - Answer" with the screenwriter of the novel "Astrea’s Broken Heart" - Elena H.

Good day, dear friends! We all know that December 31 is a magical time when you need to give gifts to your loved ones. Therefore, we have prepared a New Year's surprise for you, namely 31 answers to Elena's exciting questions. Enjoy reading🎀

1) How do you feel? Do you have a New Year's mood, and how do you plan to celebrate the New Year?

Just yesterday I was horrified that there was nothing left until the new year. I have no idea how to celebrate it. At least, I'll meet my family)

2) The finale of the second season is getting closer, and with it the finale of the novel... how do you feel?

To be honest, time flies so fast that you just don't have time to think about your feelings... The other day I passed the final chapter and it's hard for me to believe that Astra has only one season left...

3) How do you like working with Alice as the lead screenwriter of your story?

It's still great if you're about my feelings)

4) Knowing about your friendship with Alexandra SNR - does she help you write some scenes in Astra? How did your friendship come about in general?

We met Sasha when we started working on our stories at the Romance Club. I think, first of all, we have found support in each other and still find it.

Answering your second question: no, we don't help each other to write chapters) Each author does his own job)

5) If you had the opportunity to revive one character from the novel, who would it be and why?

I would revive Malek and see what will come out of it)

6) In the last interview you wrote that you have not decided on your line in Astraya... Have you chosen a favorite at the moment?

I'm afraid I still can't decide. But taking into account the fact that I should love my characters equally, I think it's for the best)

7) I would like to know how the idea of creating Astra in the Secret of Heaven universe came about? Was it your original idea or not?

Yes, of course, it was the original idea)

Astrea was created as standard, like all the stories of the romance club. First, the concept was agreed, then the disdoc and the first chapter. And then everything went too fast))

8) In what period of time do the events of Astrea take place? To "The Secret of Heaven 2" or something in between? And also what kind of place is this.. maybe modern England?

This is England, that's right) In general, there are a lot of clues in history about this. It wasn't a secret, but I still wonder how you guessed)

Alas, I can't answer your first question) But don't worry, you'll answer it yourself very soon)

9) Was the path of balance planned in history? After all, recently players have the opportunity to make a choice and get both "Skepticism" and "Faith" for it.

There is no way of balance and there will not be. This choice is just an answer.

10) How soon is it planned to close the love lines in the novel?

It's pretty soon. They won't close in the January update yet, you can still look closely. But now everything is at your own risk!)

11) And at the same time, how soon is the first sex in history planned?

Very soon!) Guess with whom?)

12) Have you thought about the possible extension of the novel to four seasons?

No, there were no such thoughts.

13) How old is Audrey?

She's about thirty.

14) What about the surname of Audrey and other characters? Or is it related to the plot? After all, so far we only know Malek's last name.

The characters' surnames have nothing to do with the plot, so there is no particular sense in their disclosure.

15) Can Audrey depend on the beast in the future? Is there an option that he will manage it?

You can find the answer to this question in the story when you go through it to the end)

16) Is a child? Or has Felonia already given us a full answer to this question?

And you can find the answer to this question in the story.

17) Do Audrey's thoughts when talking to Malek "sex without obligations?" mean that you shouldn't expect anything more with him?

As you wish. How the relationship with Malek will develop depends only on you.

18) How far are we from Fel showing us her wings?

We are close)

19) In this update, we learned that Felonia has a sister and brothers, will flashbacks from their childhood be shown? And also what kind of child is the child in the family according to Felonia?

Felonia is the oldest child. She has one sister and three brothers.

We will learn about her past in the third season.

20) How did you develop the character of Somnus and Fury? What key points inspired you to create them?

Describing Somnus, I imagined a snake. I wanted to make it dangerous and unpleasant for most people. But at the same time, to arouse sympathy from those who like snakes) I really like this character, although snakes rather scare me)

For Fury says his name) He should have become grumpy, just fury. And you definitely need to try to make him laugh - his smile is charming)

21) Can we hear any composition from Rafael? As, for example, it was with Walter's singing in "Soulless".

Unfortunately, they don't have to it yet (

22) Who was Astreia's past ally, because of whom Cassiel feels guilty and why does he feel guilty? Will it be further revealed in the plot?

Partially, the answer to this question was already in the plot. But then it will be revealed in more detail.

23) Mikael had to tell Malek about the activities of "Astrea" in exchange for help with the search for the sign of the Beast. Will it be possible to find out what exactly he told?

It's not that important. Mikael wouldn't tell really serious information)

24) Will it be possible to learn about the past of the Astrians (before their final decision to stay on earth) in colors, as were the moments of Audrey's childhood? If so, will it be available by branches or will it be available by friendship?

It's still difficult to say how exactly it will be (by branches or not), but we will definitely find out about the heroes' past.

25) How did the traumatic experience from childhood affect the main character on her adult life and her attitude to her sexuality (taking into account the constant feeling of guilt for the lack of her own ideality and integrity, which Audrey shared with Malek in the last episode of the story)?

Restrictions and imposed values have definitely imprinted on it. Her first sexual experience was accompanied by guilt, disgust, shame. For a long time it was difficult for her to accept her body, her desires. And with such attitudes it was impossible to enjoy the "forbidden fruit". Her experiments were a protest, and he didn't bring her any joy.

But the chosen profession and therapy helped her cope with it. She was able to separate her thoughts from the thoughts imposed by her father. She left his beliefs and grew new ones, only her own. But still it took a lot of time and effort.

26) In "The Secret of Heaven 2" Lilu tells about a certain Michael. Was it about our archangel or is it another character?

It's a different character, but the coincidence is funny)

27) Regarding the 72 votes in David's head - if not a spoiler, are these still the same 72 demons of Goetia called by King Solomon? How much can they influence David and did he act with their help in the sectarian village (on a sectarian village)?

I can say that he did not resort to their help in the village. We'll find out about them.

28) Will we learn more about childhood and Father David? What did his father do that he is now sitting in a cage?

Yes, of course. We'll find out for sure)

29) Can we come in and see the other guys' bedrooms? Except Rafael. It seems that it would reveal the characters even more.

I would really like that)) I hope we'll make it in time)

30) Who is the prototype of Raphael you were talking about in the end?

At the stage of writing the disdoc, thinking about Raphael, I imagined the Macedonian from the book "The House in Which", but the more I described him, the further he moved away from the prototype. Nevertheless, some of their features still have the same)

31) And finally: how do you think the Astreans would celebrate the New Year? It would be interesting to read briefly:)

I think if our Astrians didn't have so much to do, they could try to celebrate the New Year...

Michael will have a house party. He will set a chic table, ask Cassiel to help him with the decor.

Knowing the boss, David will not count on any fun, so he will entertain himself: with strong whiskey, good music and a selection of chic paired outfits for himself and Audrey.

Cassiel will escape from the holiday to the garden at some point and spend the rest of the night at the statue.

Rafael will watch with a smile David's attempts to move Michael, and at the end of the evening he will play the piano for everyone.

Felonia will go home quite early, as this holiday will remind her of her family and she will be in the mood to have fun.

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

Sometimes a name is just a name, but what I love about KND is that names aren't just names; they are tied to the person's look, personality, number and more!

Kuki is written with the kanji of "air", reminding of her carefree nature and apparently airhead personality.

Wallabee's name is spelled almost like "wallaby," pressing on his Australian origins. Joey is also Australian. "You don't get more Australian than that," said Warburton, then proceeding to call their father SYDNEY.

Lou is close to the word "loo", a British (and Australian!) word for toilet, tying him to the Toiletnator.

Abigail... literally female from Abraham. I will die on this hill.

Hoagie... yeah.

Then I was searching for something and I found two interesting things: Montgomery was the name of a famous General active for A LOT of Europe missions, and one of the first faces of NATO. I mean... fits!

Wanna know about Benedict?

You sneaky, clever thing, Mr. Warburton.

But maybe... was he trying to also foreshadow something?

Because Nigel... means "black". And we know there is a black figure in his family already. And we know black means something bad or dangerous.

Just a thought.

I love giving names special meanings if I can!

Like Penny: Doe as a surname is really rare, and is usually tied to the John/Jane Doe name given for missing people. Her parents and brother are missing so... yeah. And Penelope is tied to the character of the Odyssey, the wife of Odysseus, who will wait for him for 20 years ignoring the advances of more than one person. Likewise, Penny will wait for a long time for... something... mh... she can't remember what, but she'll wait.

[xvxblahhhxvx]

I have a theory about why Chuuya goes by his first name, as opposed to most other people. Because even in the manga, where characters like Fyodor, Nikolai, and Lucy are generally referred to by their surnames, Chuuya goes by his given name in both the manga and anime. *Stormbringer Spoilers*

First of all, when he was fifteen, he likely went by his first name because he was surrounded by friends, by the people who raised him, and going by something like a family name would be distant and unnatural, and likely not something Chuuya would push. So when he met Dazai, he was still immature enough to go only by his given name, and he probably doesn't bother enforcing it when he joined the Mafia either.

But. After the events of Stormbringer and when Chuuya grows up, I suspect it was for a different reason. We don't see much of Chuuya after he escapes the military facility, but since he knew how to speak, my guess would be that he knew enough to know his name, even if he couldn't remember much else. Chuuya was his name, given to him by birth, but the name "Nakahara" isn't. That's N's name, the name of the person who kidnapped him, experimented on him, and tortured him. The real Chuuya's surname was actually Kensuke, and I think something similar applies to him in universe as well. When he was taken by N, the name Nakahara was given to him, but the name Chuuya is the one his real parents gave to him, the name he received when he was born, the name that proves his humanity. So he probably chooses to stick with that name, even though he really could insist on being called "Nakahara" because "Chuuya" is the one that's his.

[yessir-rightawaysir]

so, satam!snilvester: you said that robotnik wants sally roboticized, but for what purpose? assuming robotnik's head isn't too far up his ass, he has to be at least vaguely aware of her academic capabilities. wouldn't roboticization get rid of whatever potential such a variable might have? i mean, i guess he could just do a nicole 2.0 and store her consciousness in a separate device, but that still leaves the question of why he wants her roboticized. given how sadistic the guy seems to be, it wouldn't surprise me, but is it just for the novelty of it??

You're vastly underestimating how highly he thinks of himself. You think he finds value in her consciousness? Please. She's not human, her mind has no value to him. He barely acknowledges other humans. I don't mean me, of course, he thinks nothing of me. I'm referring to how he treated others before we left the colony.

Although, actually, you may not know this but your consciousness is locked inside of robotcized brains. I try not to think of this, but it must be a frightening living hell being trapped inside of those metallic bodies. I'd know, and three guesses as to how I found that out... but I wouldn't know what it's like to experience that for years. For over a decade. All of them must be quite mad by now.

So, were she to be roboticized she would be preserved as you've suggested. Perhaps. At least until her consciousness burns out from lack of stimulation or her body is scrapped for parts or destroyed.

SatAM Snively, I am curious... have YOU designed any of the robots used in Robotropolis or your uncle's empire?

A few, yes. Why? Nothing too important. A lot of factory 'bots, the hovering spy cameras, one time I created a robot that was almost as fast as the hedgehog. I'd like to improve that one some day, but I was told to leave it.

(SatAM Snively) So, what was your life like before Mobius and Robotnik and so forth?

Oh, my childhood. Not great. Earth before we left was marred by wars. Polluted beyond recognition. A shambles, basically. Hence why we left. I'm not sure what happened to it after we left but something pretty major had to have occurred to have wiped out humanity. We're survivors, usually...

And my father was always very, um, stern and unpleasant. Even before he went insane. I don't really want to talk about it.

murdercide626 asked: [SatAM] Would you say you're the romantic type, Snively? Have you ever been in love?

No. And no.

Besides, there's no other humans on this planet. Well, sometimes we find... weird exceptions. I think that Lazaar fellow was human? Or at least descended from humans. And I have a theory that Naugus is also related to humans. There's probably more of his kind somewhere. Whatever the hell he is. But neither of them are, uhhgghgh, in any way enticing.

Anonymous asked: for satam snivs i know this doesn't help anything but really hope things get better for you dude, you don't deserve all the stuff you go through :(

Thank you, I agree.

murdercide626 asked: [SatAM] I've always been curious, is Snively your real name?

It's my surname, yes. I'd tell you my given name but we're not really on a first name basis.

[nekohime19]

Mini Mac # 25 : Pilgrims and marriage proposal

Let's goo for this one, the pilgrims came across a house and they got proposals!

Macaque was sprawled on the sage's cloud, watching the autumn sky darken, the sage's tail wrapped over his body like a fluffy blanket. Wukong was lazily laid behind him, focusing on the clothes he was stitching for Macaque. The tiger skirt was great (Wukong was particularly happy to match Macaque) but, according to the sage, the lil monkey needed a shirt too. As such, the golden-furred monkey took it on himself to create a silk shirt for the lil guy. Macaque looked up at Wukong and snorted, the sage looked so focused on what he was weaving, his tongue darting from the corner of his lips. The black-furred monkey watched him, watching how the fading light fell on his face, how his eyebrows twitched in frustration when he missed a stitch. It was strangely endearing.

“Eugh, how much longer do I have to carry those luggages?” Grumbled Bajie as he threw his head back in frustration.

“It's your job.” Huffed Wukong, Macaque looked down at Wukong's tail draped over his body and began to groom it.

“Maybe we should find a house for the night?” Asked Sanzang as he worriedly looked up at the sky.

“Come on, Master. We're on a journey, the grass is our bed and the night sky our blanket.” Snorted the sage as he stitched the last corner of Macaque's silk shirt, he was very happy about the result and handed it to Macaque excitedly. Macaque took the shirt and smiled, he removed his own shirt (Wukong averted his eyes while he did) and tried the silk shirt on. It fit perfectly, like always. Wukong had fairy fingers after all.

“Thanks.” Hummed Macaque as he felt how soft the silk was, it went well with his tiger skirt. The wind ruffled his ears as he was lazing around on the cloud, Macaque let it mess with his lil ears and listened to its whispers. “A storm is coming though, we should find a house.”

“If the horse was faster we could be in a village instead of nowhere. Aren't you a dragon? Can't you walk faster?” Groaned Bajie.

“Right now I'm a horse.” Happily replied Ao Lie as he shook his jade colored mane. “But I can go faster. I just stick to my horse role.”

“You just said that because you can't go faster.” Huffed Bajie with a teasing smirk.

“Let's not fight, brothers, and try to find a house.” Intervened Wujing with a good natured smile.

“But I can go faster.” Answered Ao Lie matter-of-factly.

“I don't believe you.” Ao Lie frowned at Bajie's statement, Sanzang patted his sides to calm him but Ao Lie was still a bit miffed. He decided to go faster and ran, Sanzang yelped and grabbed the reins tighter.

“Well now we gotta follow him.” Sighed Wujing as he began to run after the horse, Wukong simply made his cloud chase after the pearl-white horse and Bajie groaned before struggling to follow.

Ao Lie stopped himself a few meters before a mansion, once the other pilgrims caught up they all decided to pass the night here. Macaque noticed how Wukong was narrowing his eyes at the house but said nothing. When Macaque tugged at his tail in question, wanting to know why the sage looked at the house this way, Wukong only petted his head reassuringly with the pad of his finger. As such Macaque was certain it was, at least, not a demon's lair.

The house was owned by a widow and her three daughters. They were all flawless, with pearl-like skin, thin rosy lips and doe eyes. They invited them in and served vegetarian food in wooden bowls. Macaque sat on the sage's knee and nibbled on some grains of rice Wukong passed along to him.

“I thank you for your hospitality, madam. What is your noble surname?” Politely asked Sanzang after he made sure to bow for the food, he was perhaps the only one, out of all them, with table manners.

“My name is Jia Mo. My in-laws died recently and me and my husband were given all this fortune but now my husband passed away too and I only have three daughters… I would like, good sirs, to make a proposal and ask the lot of you to be my daughters' spouses.”

Sanzang froze, eyes widened and spoon lifted mid-air just below his lips. For a moment, Macaque worried the monk turned to stone.

“Master, you have to answer!.” Snorted Bajie as he tugged the monk's sleeve.

“I… well… I thank you for the proposal but I am a monk who follows buddhists teachings, I cannot abandon my journey and my virtue.” Carefully replied Sanzang. Jia Mo wasn't happy about this, her face darkened to the point Macaque wondered if she would kick them out. To quell her anger Sanzang asked : “W-well, is one of my disciples willing to stay? Wukong?”

Wukong whipped his head towards the monk with a betrayed look on his face, he then looked down at Macaque and gulped.

“I.. I am not uninterested in marriage but I… well…not with you.” Tried to explain the sage. For some reason, Bajie barked a laugh at his answer and Wujing hid his chortles in his sleeve. Macaque didn't know why they seemed to be so amused by the golden-furred monkey's answer and promised himself to ask later.

“What is wrong with us that you don't want to marry one of my daughters?” Asked Jia Mo with crossed arms.

“It's not… nothing is wrong with them but I… Maybe Wujing would be willing to stay!” Wujing's eyes widened and he looked at the sage in betrayal.

“I'm not… I follow buddhists teachings faithfully.” When the river demon saw the darkened face of Jia Mo he added : “Maybe Ao Lie would be willing?”

The dragon-horse perked up when he heard his name, mouth full of food.

“No, I'm a horse right now. Do I have to say a name after this ? I don't know, who wants to marry here? Macaque?” Wukong growled at Ao Lie's answer and grabbed the black-furred monkey.

“This will never happen.” Grumbled the sage. “Why not Bajie? He always whines about his ex-wife.”

The back and force kept going for a bit until Bajie decided to stay. All the pilgrims then went outside to go on with their journey without Bajie but Wukong, somehow, convinced them all to stay for a bit. After a few hours Bajie ran out of the house, tied like a sausage. Wukong laughed loudly at the scene, tears nipping his eyes. The daughters and Jia Mo were revealed to be bodhisattvas trying to test the pilgrims’ wills.

“You knew they were bodhisattvas, right?” Asked Macaque once they resumed their journey.

“Maybe.” Chuckled Wukong with arms behind his head.

“Why didn't you say anything?” Whined Sanzang as he clutched the dragon-horse reins.

“This whole mess could have been avoided.” Grumbled Bajie.

“It was funnier that way.”Laughed the sage.

“So Wukong, who do you wanna marry? Because you said you were interested in marriage.” Chirped Ao Lie, genuinely curious about the answer.

Wukong sputtered, cheeks flaming.

“You did say this, elder brother.” Added Wujing with a soft smirk.

“Yeah you did! Who do you wanna marry? Someone you got your eyes on?”Snickered Bajie, glad to be able to get back at the sage. Sanzang said nothing but he looked at the golden-furred monkey with an amused smile.

“I-It's not… obviously it was a ploy!” Tried to explain Wukong while the rest of the pilgrims laughed at his misery.

+ cut scenes

Wukong *after noticing the women were bodhisattvas* : This will be funny if I say nothing and just let them be embarrassed 😁

Wukong *being teased by the pilgrims bc he said he wanted to marry* : I regret entering this house🫠

 

Wukong inner thought when Jia Mo asked if he wanted to marry her daughters : I have to say no but I can't say I'm not interested in marriage, Macaque is here!! 😭

 

Macaque inner thoughts at the end : I didn't know Wukong wanted to marry one day! I want to be invited if he does 😌.

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