#or like in the way of 'ambiguous ways it could go'

[auberylis]

In reply to everyone's silent questioning: dug around. There's many way to say "lovers" in russian, and the majority of them are non-ambiguously gendered. The one he used for the title is the ambiguous gender-neutral one. The painter himself was mostly a book illustrator, and most works i could find are either obviously something inline with the government, something more usual, or something more upbeat/fairy-tale-ish for kids books. This one's nothing like most other stuff. I cannot find more info on him, but it may as well not be a cishet couple - however, i think the odds are it is :<

becauseeee

"Quarreled", same guy, seems like the same building - the mirror, walls and staircase are the same. But also it's a typical USSR building staircase copies of which there are thousands. Here it seems that the couple is cishet, but i'm not sure if it's precisely the same couple. The upper figure has blonde hair, while on the "lovers" one they have it potato brown sort of. It likely is just an unintentional miss, like the wrong position of the paper on the door, so i guess it's the same couple, and high chances are that it's cishet. I don't think there were ladies wearing that kind of a hat like the lower figure does, but also i didn't dig deep into USSR lesbianism traditions and tricks. Who knows, maybe the butch ones kinda disguised as men when going to their lover to not raise suspicion of the neighbours and get snitched on for gay eventually? Is possible, but alas, likely not what's here.

“Lovers” by Lev Khailov (1950s)

[marcyvamp1re-blog]

ᶻ 𝘇 𐰁  ! ⺌ . ⸺  NPE! 

PART ONE! | Volume I

Synopsis; "So, you’re an alien, huh?" Yeah, sure, maybe you’re a little... different. But honestly, who isn’t? The earthlings think you’re weird? Nope. It’s just that they’re a bunch of clueless humans, totally missing the point. You, on the other hand, have a higher calling. A mission to discover the meaning of life—you know, the whole ‘why am I here, and what am I supposed to be doing’ thing. Simple, right?

Except, uh... there’s a small hiccup. You don’t even know what species you are, because someone forgot to leave the alien instruction manual. Oops. So, while you’re out there doing some random side gig (you know, the one that might help you find out more about your roots and, oh yeah, pay the rent), you accidentally get tangled up in the lives of two earthlings.

Of course, you swear to protect them because, well, you kind of owe them. Maybe. Or maybe not. Who’s to say? Either way, your purpose might get a little... distracted. But hey, priorities, right?

Pairing ── Dan Da Dan x Alien! Fem/Neutral? Reader.

Content. MDNI ── Manga Spoilers, Violence/Death, Blood, Invasion of Privacy, Invasion of Mind, Abduction, Kidnapping, Angst, Murder, Disturbing Content, Corruption, Isolation,Paranoia, Manipulation, Unintended Time Travel Mishaps, Alien Romance Tropes, Sudden Existential Crises, Unexplained Tentacle Appearances, Turbo Granny's Sass, Breaking the Fourth Wall, Gravity-Defying Physics, Psychic Overload, Ambiguous Yōkai Allegiances, Excessive Hair-Related Powers, Sudden Dance Battles in Crisis, Outdated Alien Fashion Choices, Malfunctioning Spacecraft Humor, Intense Staring Contests, Time-Dilated Cliffhangers, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Overwhelming Amounts of Sparkles, Polyamory, LGBTQ+ Content, ¿Gender-fluid or Non-binary Character? (Not with respect to pronouns, but to their genitals xd), Unconventional Relationship Dynamics, Consent Issues in Alien Interactions, Mind-altering Love Spells, Extreme Jealousy, Existential Dilemmas on Love and Identity, Mind-Controlling Aliens.

A/N ── English is not my first language—Spanish— Oh my god, how did this happen 😱 sorry to everyone (@flwes & @redberrysstuff) who saw the incomplete story, I feel SO embarrassed. Ugh, I swear, autocorrect and my clumsiness are going to kill me one of these days. :"(( But seriously, I promise the full version is coming, just give me a second to fix it.

"Idiot! Moron! Squid! Tuna!" Momo Ayase shouted from the ground, her face flushed with rage as she watched her now ex-boyfriend walk away with that annoying mix of guilt and annoyance in his eyes. "Never call me again!"

"Momo? Are you okay? Or should I sign up for the next round of sea insults?" asked a familiar voice behind her.

Momo turned around, still frowning, but the sight disarmed her a bit. There was Y/n Seigai, with that carefree energy that always seemed straight out of a movie. She wore a short plaid skirt and a white blouse that highlighted her figure, complemented by long socks and platform shoes with a puma print that screamed confidence. Her makeup was simple yet striking, enough to make anyone turn to look at her. And, as always, she had something in her hand: this time, a frozen yogurt popsicle that she licked absently as if nothing in the world could disturb her calm.

"Late again, huh?" Momo huffed, crossing her arms and standing up, her gaze as severe as a frustrated mother.

"What? Was that a 'thank you for coming to the rescue, Y/n'? Because if so, your tone needs a little work," Y/n replied with a cheeky smile, making an exaggerated gesture to offer her a lick of her popsicle. "Want some? Frozen yogurt cures broken hearts. It's science."

"I don't want your stupid popsicle, idiot! And stop changing the subject! You're late to school again! Do you know how many times I've been asked why you can't arrive on time? I feel like your babysitter!"

Y/n theatrically sighed, placing a hand on her chest as if Momo had wounded her pride. "Oh, Momo. Always so responsible, so punctual... except when you decide to sleep in on Mondays. Remember last Monday? Because I do; you were running out with a toast in your mouth."

Momo opened her mouth to retort but quickly shut it, blushing a little. "That was different! And don’t change the subject!"

"Okay, okay, sorry, mom," Y/n said with a mischievous smile, raising her hands in a sign of surrender. "But in my defense, it's not my fault that the coffee at that corner is so good it makes me lose track of time."

"You have a watch on your wrist, Y/n! And a phone with alarms! ALARMS!"

"Well, my alarms and I have a complicated relationship..." Y/n murmured as she took another lick of the popsicle.

Momo couldn't help but let out an exasperated sigh, although her lips curled slightly into a smile. That was the dynamic with Y/n: serious and responsible when necessary but with enough chaotic moments to drive her crazy. And even though sometimes she wanted to give her a good lecture, she couldn't deny that Y/n always knew how to lift her spirits, even on days like today.

"Come on, Momo. Let's get to class. I promise we'll make it before the bell rings... probably," Y/n said, offering her the popsicle as a peace gesture.

"Probably isn’t good enough! And I don’t want your silly popsicle," Momo shot back, but she couldn’t help but chuckle a bit as they started walking together.

As they crossed the school gates, Momo and Y/n couldn’t help but draw attention. They were, without a doubt, a striking pair: Momo, with her natural charisma and perfectly polished gyaru style, walked with purpose while continuing to rant about her now ex-boyfriend; Y/n, on the other hand, exuded a magnetic nonchalance, her skirt swaying with each step and a yogurt popsicle still in her hand, as if school were just another runway in her day.

"And then he has the nerve to say I’m playing hard to get! Can you believe it?" Momo gestured dramatically, as if still arguing with her ex.

"Mm-hmm," Y/n murmured, not stopping her slow lick of the popsicle. "Sounds like someone needs a 'How Not to Be an Idiot' manual. Should I mail him one?"

"Not even that! He’d probably lose it, like he loses all common sense," Momo shot back, rolling her eyes.

As they made their way down the hallway, students stepped aside to let them pass—some admiring their style, others whispering comments among themselves. Momo was so engrossed in her complaints she barely noticed the stares. Y/n, however, threw the occasional wink or offered a carefree smile, as if she were used to being the center of attention.

"Can you stop flirting with the entire hallway? I’m having a crisis here!" Momo snapped, giving her a light nudge.

"Flirting? I’m just being friendly. But if you want all my attention, Momo, you only have to ask," Y/n replied with a mischievous grin.

"God, you’re unbearable!"

Finally, they reached their classroom, where their other two friends, Miko and Muko, were waiting.

Miko was seated by the window, her small bow perfectly in place and her uniform impeccable, though always with her personal touch. Her beige sweater and loosely tied ribbon gave her a relaxed vibe, but her bright smile showed she was ready for a day full of energy.

Muko, in contrast, was impossible to ignore. Her tan skin stood out against her blonde hair styled into pigtails, and the manba makeup she wore proudly added a bold edge to her look. Her uniform followed the same pattern as the other girls', but on her, everything seemed a bit more daring—from the slightly oversized sweater to the way her loose socks fell perfectly over her sandals.

"Wow! Took you long enough," Miko said with a smile as she saw them walk in. "I thought you’d actually be on time today."

"Tell that to Miss 'Coffee is More Important Than Punctuality,'" Momo replied, giving Y/n an accusatory look.

"Me? I arrived just in time to make this spectacular entrance," Y/n said, spinning dramatically before flopping into her seat.

"Jealous, Miko?" Muko chimed in as she adjusted one of her pigtails. "They walk in, and the whole hallway stares. People only look at us when Miko shouts something ridiculous."

"Hey! That was one time," Miko retorted, crossing her arms with feigned indignation.

Momo let out a sigh, but a smile began to form on her lips. Being with them was always like this: chaotic, fun, and somehow reassuring.

"Alright, girls, now that we’re all here, I need advice. How do you get over an idiot who just wants you to pay for everything and only cares about sleeping with you?"

"Easy," Y/n said, raising her popsicle as if it were a trophy. "You get over him by being yourself: brighter, more fabulous, and completely out of his league. Like always, Momo."

"Amen," added Muko, lifting her phone for a quick selfie with Miko, who automatically struck a pose.

Momo rolled her eyes but couldn’t help laughing. Yes, her group was a mess in its own way, but she wouldn’t trade it for anything.

"Okay, seriously, what happened? Why are you so upset? We know it’s not because of Y/n, because when you’re mad at her, you yell louder than a megaphone," Miko said, raising an eyebrow with that teasing attitude she always had when she wanted to get under Momo’s skin.

Momo let out a heavy sigh and flopped onto the desk. "Nothing... that idiot dumped me, and then I started insulting him... using fish names."

Y/n, who was lounging back in her chair with her feet on the desk as if she were at home, couldn’t hold back a laugh. "Fish names. Like ‘Tuna’ and ‘Squid’. Because I’m sure that hurt his feelings a lot. Wow, Momo, terrifying. Do you really think that’s going to change his mind?"

"Ha, I’m dying," Muko said, testing a bit of her makeup while laughing. "Fish names aren’t insults, Momo. What were you expecting, ‘Shark’ or ‘Piranha’? Now those might be scary!"

Momo frowned, looking at her friends as if they were aliens. "You’re supposed to comfort me! He was my first boyfriend! My first, girls!" Momo waved her hands dramatically, as if she had lost something truly valuable.

Muko looked at her with a mix of sympathy and exasperation. "We told you to forget about him, Momo. It was obvious he wasn’t worth it."

Y/n nodded with mock seriousness, though her eyes still sparkled with amusement. "Yeah, can you remind me what was supposed to be so great about him? Was it the guy who always wore shirts two sizes too small? Or was it his talent for making you feel bad every time you talked about your dreams?"

"It’s just... he looked like Ken Takakura," Momo replied, as if it were an irrefutable justification, throwing her hands up as if there were nothing more to say.

The three friends sighed in unison, a sound so synchronized it could have been rehearsed.

"There she goes again..." Muko muttered, shaking her head and placing a hand on her forehead in a dramatic pose.

"Ugh, here we go," Miko said, glancing at Y/n and raising an eyebrow. "The story of the guy who ‘looked like’ Ken Takakura. Momo, are you sure you don’t have a poster of him at home?"

"She doesn’t just have a poster, let me tell you," Y/n said, remembering the time she stayed over at Momo’s house while her grandmother was away for a few days.

Y/n, who had just finished her popsicle and was now grinning mockingly at the others, tossed the stick out the window with perfect precision. "Here we go with your nonsense again, Momo. First it was ‘Ken Takakura,’ then it’ll be ‘Tom Cruise,’ and next you’ll tell me you fell for some guy who looks like an anime character. Stop idealizing guys, seriously."

Momo shot her a glare. "It’s not the same, Y/n! Ken Takakura is an icon, a real man!"

"Yeah, a movie man probably under contract with boredom, because guys like him don’t exist in real life," Y/n said, striking a dramatic pose as she crossed her arms.

Momo shrugged. "I don’t know what it is about him… but there’s something, I swear."

"What he has is that he’s in movies, not real life," Miko replied with a somewhat philosophical tone, as if she’d just imparted a profound truth about reality.

"So what, huh!? I like tough guys, like Ken Takakura!" Momo shouted, raising her hand as if she’d just made a worldwide announcement about her love for cinematic men.

Miko and Muko exchanged glances and, with almost perfect synchronization, replied, "Momo, we’ve got a surprise for you… those men are extinct."

Momo immediately dropped her head, as if someone had dumped a bucket of cold water on her. Her shoulders slumped, and her smile vanished in an instant. "What? Extinct? That can’t be true!" she muttered, as if she’d just taken a direct hit to the heart.

"Sorry, Momo," Miko said with a mischievous smile. "Men like that don’t exist anymore. All we’ve got now are guys in sweatpants with cat wallpapers on their phones."

Momo let out a deep sigh, an exaggerated expression of sorrow crossing her face. "So what?! What am I supposed to do with my life? Settle for guys who don’t even know what a good hairstyle is?!"

With the theatrics worthy of a telenovela star, Momo stood from her seat, leaving the others watching as she exited the classroom as if she’d just lost the most important battle of her life.

"Did what we said hurt her feelings?" Miko asked, a faint smile on her face, though she already knew the answer.

"No," Y/n replied, standing up without looking back, her eyes sparkling with a mix of amusement and concern. "It hurt because it’s true."

Momo, on the verge of stepping into the hallway, didn’t notice Y/n following her. As Y/n caught up, she saw Momo walking with slumped shoulders, as if she were on a farewell mission for her love life.

Y/n walked up to her side and, with a playful smile, nudged her shoulder lightly. "Come on, Momo, don’t be like that. There are still guys out there who aren’t complete disasters."

Momo gave her a sad look. "I don’t know, Y/n. Maybe tough guys are just a fantasy. Like Ken Takakura. A legend of the past!"

"Well, if you ask me, the real tough guy is standing right here!" Y/n said, pointing a thumb at herself with a cheeky grin. "Forgot about us? We’re the tough ones now."

Momo glanced at her sideways, a flicker of humor returning to her eyes. "The problem is I don’t have time for girls who make bad jokes."

Y/n followed her, chuckling softly. "I’m the best company you could ask for, and I’ll prove it!"

The two walked down the hallway, leaving the classroom behind, Momo still a little down but starting to relax, with Y/n beside her as always—joking, stylish, and promising that there was always something better than a movie fantasy.

"Let’s go, Momo," Y/n said with a sly smile. "Tough guys may not exist anymore, but we’re unstoppable!"

Momo couldn’t help but smile, even if just a little. Maybe it wasn’t all that bad after all.

As Momo and Y/n passed by the nearest classroom, they couldn’t help but notice a group of boys throwing paper balls at a smaller, scrawnier boy with a hairstyle clearly modeled after Nobita from Doraemon.

Momo frowned immediately, spotting the bullying behavior. Y/n tensed beside her. Both of them hated bullies, and they weren’t about to stand by and do nothing.

One of the boys, grinning stupidly, picked up a paper ball and said loudly, "Stick a magnet in it! That’s gotta hurt!"

As he prepared to throw it, now with a magnet inside, a shadow loomed over him. Turning around, he found Momo sitting in front of him, her expression unimpressed. Behind him, Y/n stood with her arms crossed, her gaze so intense it could’ve melted anything in its path.

"Hey," Momo asked, looking at the boy with a mix of curiosity and disapproval. "What are you reading?"

"Uh… this…" the boy stammered, glancing nervously between the bullies and the girls.

The boys throwing the paper balls didn’t seem to realize what was happening. They turned back to their antics, ignoring the two girls who weren’t about to stay quiet.

Momo quickly stood up, shooting the bullies one last look. "What a bunch of idiots," she said, rolling her eyes. "It’s like this world is full of losers."

Y/n sighed, observing the chaos with a smile that hid something deeper. She was about to leave with Momo until her eyes caught the title of the magazine the boy was reading.

"The Occult," she read aloud, raising an intrigued eyebrow and smiling faintly. "Interesting…" she murmured before stepping toward Momo, leaving the minor chaos of the classroom behind.

"Come on, Momo," Y/n teased as she walked alongside her. "You look like you just had to pay taxes or something. Relax."

"You’d feel the same way if you were surrounded by idiots!" Momo snapped, crossing her arms indignantly.

Suddenly, an unfamiliar voice thundered behind them:

"MOMO AYASE! Y/N SEIGAI!"

"Huh? Now what?" Momo said, turning around with a frown.

It was the nerd from earlier. He was running toward them with all his might, gasping for breath as if he’d just escaped a marathon. When he reached them, he stopped so abruptly he almost fell over.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he shouted, hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath.

"What?" Y/n asked, visibly confused, glancing at Momo with a raised eyebrow.

"I KNOW WHAT YOU LIKE!" he repeated, louder this time, with an oddly intense conviction. "That’s the only reason someone like you would talk to someone like me!"

Momo blinked slowly and then let out an exaggerated sigh. "You’ve already said that. Can you switch up your dialogue? You sound like a broken record."

Y/n put a hand to her face, muttering, "Have you lost your mind? Where did you even get that crazy idea?"

The boy looked at them with desperate eyes, as if he was about to reveal some cosmic secret. "I’m talking about this!" he exclaimed, pulling something out as if presenting irrefutable proof.

Both girls tilted their heads simultaneously, trying to figure out what he was holding.

"Is that... a magazine?" Momo asked, squinting.

"Yes! A limited edition of The Occult! I know you’re into this because I saw how you looked at it earlier! President Obama has already been to Mars! This is the full story of the Pegasus Project! You’re into the paranormal!"

Momo closed her eyes and ran a hand over her forehead, clearly trying to summon some patience. "Look, genius, we’re not planning to be your best friends or start a paranormal book club with you. We don’t believe in UFOs or aliens."

"They’re not UFOs, they’re UAPs! Unidentified Aerial Phenomena!" the boy yelled enthusiastically, holding up the magazine like it was some sacred manifesto.

He began talking again, with a passion that seemed endless. Y/n listened with a half-smile, entertained by the chaos he brought with him. But soon, she felt Momo’s hand squeeze hers—a clear sign: Momo was about to lose her temper.

And then, she exploded.

"WOULD YOU JUST SHUT UP ALREADY?! MY HEART’S BEEN BROKEN, AND I’M NOT IN THE MOOD! AND YOU’RE SO ANNOYING WITH YOUR NERD STORIES THAT NOBODY CARES ABOUT, OKAY?! THAT’S WHY YOU HAVE NO FRIENDS!"

The boy froze, his mouth open and his eyes wide like saucers. Even Y/n, who was used to Momo’s outbursts, raised an eyebrow. "Ouch. Low blow," she murmured, mostly to herself.

Still fuming like a volcano, Momo pointed at the boy. "Don’t even think about talking to us again! Let’s go, Y/n!"

But Y/n didn’t move. She looked at the boy with some pity, her eyes softening. She stepped toward him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey... she didn’t mean it, okay? She’s upset because she had a bad day. Don’t take it to heart," she said calmly, trying to diffuse the situation.

Momo stopped and turned around, clearly picking up on Y/n’s accusatory tone even though she hadn’t said anything else. With an exasperated sigh, she rolled her eyes. "Fine, fine! I’m sorry, dude! I went too far. Happy now?"

She picked up the magazine that had fallen to the floor and handed it back to the boy, though her lips were still pursed. "But don’t get excited. I don’t believe in aliens. I’m more into ghosts and spirits, got it?"

Out of nowhere, the boy started laughing—not a polite chuckle, but a full-on belly laugh that echoed down the hallway.

"Don’t tell me you actually believe in spirits," he said, still laughing as he wiped a tear from the corner of his eye.

Momo froze, her frown deeper than ever. "Are you making fun of me?!" she shouted, stepping toward him with clenched fists.

Before anyone could react, the two launched into a heated argument. Momo insisted that spirits were real, while the boy passionately defended his UAPs. Y/n, stuck between them like a referee in a wrestling match, glanced toward the hallway. There stood Miko and Muko, watching the scene with amused smiles as they whispered to each other.

"These two are hopeless," Y/n muttered under her breath, feeling her patience wear thin.

Finally, she snapped.

"ENOUGH! YOU’RE DRIVING ME CRAZY!" she yelled, pushing them apart with a hand on each shoulder. Her voice was so loud that even Miko and Muko stopped laughing to peek in with curiosity.

"Here’s the deal," Y/n said, crossing her arms authoritatively. "If Momo proves that spirits exist, you’ll become her personal errand boy. But if you prove that UFOs—sorry, UAPs—are real, then she’ll be your errand girl."

Both of them stared at her in disbelief.

"WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?!" they shouted in unison, their faces a mix of shock and panic.

Y/n smirked, her tone daring as if she’d just announced the rules of a reality show. "It’s a bet. Take it or leave it."

Momo opened her mouth to protest but then glanced at the boy with a competitive glint in her eyes. "Errand boy, huh? That doesn’t sound too bad."

The boy blinked, clearly trying to process what had just happened. Finally, he raised his chin, determined. "Fine! But get ready to carry my stuff when I win."

Momo narrowed her eyes. "Me? Carry your stuff? Dream on, loser!"

From the hallway, Miko and Muko started laughing again.

"This is gonna be good," Miko said.

"I’m definitely not missing this," Muko added.

Y/n sighed, looking at the two challengers with exhaustion. "Great, now you’re both committed. But if you waste my time, I swear both of you will end up being my errand boys!"

They both nodded, though they still exchanged defiant glares. Y/n couldn’t help but smile. This was either going to be very interesting… or completely chaotic.

⊹ ・・───・・・・───・・ ⊹

"What is this place?! I’M GONNA DIE OF FEAR!" screamed Momo, clinging to you like a lifeline in the middle of the ocean. Her grip was so tight that you seriously considered whether you’d pass out from lack of air or from the creepy atmosphere of the hospital.

"Relax, Momo," you sighed, trying to wiggle free while scanning the surroundings. Nagi University Hospital didn’t disappoint: graffiti-covered walls, broken windows, dark hallways, and that classic feeling that something was watching you from the shadows. "Though… yeah, this place is pretty unsettling."

"UNSETTLING?! THIS IS STRAIGHT OUT OF A HORROR MOVIE!" Momo shrieked, practically climbing on top of you.

On the other end of the phone, the guy sounded thrilled. "Stop whining! Nagi Hospital is one of the prime spots for UFO sightings! They say if you’re on the rooftop, you get abducted!"

"What’s abduction?" Momo whispered in your ear.

"It’s when aliens kidnap you and experiment on your body," you whispered back.

"Hey, genius, why the rooftop?" you asked, frowning as you tried to keep Momo at a reasonable distance. "What does the rooftop have to do with UFOs?"

"Because UFOs can’t land in the basement, OBVIOUSLY!" he replied triumphantly, as if he’d just solved a universal mystery.

"Are you kidding me…? WHO IN THEIR RIGHT MIND BUILDS A HOSPITAL WHERE YOU GET ABDUCTED?!" shouted Momo, clearly on the verge of throwing the phone out the window.

"And who in their right mind goes willingly to an abandoned hospital for fun? Oh, wait... you two."

"THAT’S IT!" Momo yelled, red with indignation, and if you hadn’t stopped her, she probably would’ve smashed the phone against the nearest wall.

"Okay, okay, enough, both of you!" you interrupted, rubbing your temples. "Listen, Nobita of the UFO fandom, you focus on your tunnel and tell us if you see anything weird. We’ll try not to die or get abducted, deal?"

"Perfect! And record everything! This could change history!" he said excitedly, as if already drafting his speech for NASA.

"Sure, sure. If aliens take me, I’ll make sure to Facetime you," you muttered as Momo tugged at your arm.

"YOU GO FIRST! I’M NOT GOING ALONE!" Momo demanded, pointing at the dark hallway leading to the rusty elevator.

"Me first? I’d rather we just go home and call it a day. We’ve done enough for one evening."

Momo huffed but then crossed her arms and stared at the floor, thoughtful. "If we leave now, that idiot’s gonna laugh at us all week."

"What do you prefer? Him laughing at us, or us getting abducted? Because I know where my priorities lie, and aliens don’t make the top 10."

There was a brief silence as you both weighed your options. Finally, Momo sighed dramatically, like she’d just decided to climb a mountain. "Fine, but if anything weird happens, you handle it. I’m just gonna scream and run, deal?"

"I wouldn’t expect anything less from you," you replied with a tired smile as the two of you ventured into the dark hallway. The echo of your footsteps bounced off the empty walls, while the guy on the other end of the phone kept rambling about "electromagnetic phenomena and alien microwaves."

"By the way!" said the guy, as if he had just remembered something. "If you see strange lights, don’t get close. They’re a sign of imminent abduction."

"Great," you muttered, rolling your eyes. "Anything else we should know before we get abducted?"

"Yeah, if you get abducted, ask them how they travel faster than light. I’m really interested in that!"

"WHAT KIND OF PSYCHOPATH THINKS ABOUT THAT AT A TIME LIKE THIS?!" Momo screamed, and this time, you couldn’t help but laugh. At least the strange humor was helping to calm the terror a little.

"Hey, kid, let’s be honest... you’ve never seen a UFO in your life, have you?" Momo asked, crossing her arms and looking at him with a mix of disdain and curiosity.

The guy adjusted his glasses, clearly offended. "DO YOU KNOW WHAT REGRESSIVE HYPNOSIS IS?"

"DON’T CHANGE THE SUBJECT!" Momo snapped, pointing at him with an accusing finger. "I asked you something very simple."

He raised a finger, completely ignoring her while striking a dramatic pose. "THE QUESTION ISN’T WHETHER I’VE SEEN A UFO..."

"Uh-huh, sure," murmured Y/n, rolling their eyes.

"WHAT MATTERS ARE THE FOUNDATIONS OF THE THEORY!" he continued, in such a serious tone that it sounded like he was giving a lecture on astrophysics.

Momo sighed, clearly losing patience. "Again with your nonsense, oh my god. Don’t you ever get tired? Or do you recharge with solar batteries?"

"THIS ISN’T NONSENSE! IT'S SCIENCE! IT’S TRUE!" he protested, with an almost comical intensity.

"Yeah, sure. And how’s it going there, huh? Anything interesting besides your ‘theories’?" Momo said, looking around with feigned indifference as she tried to change the subject.

"I’VE ARRIVED... TOO SHY... SHY... TO THIS MYSTERIOUS PLACE..." the guy shouted on the phone, his voice echoing in the dark, damp tunnel. "WELL... NOW IT'S TIME TO PROVE IT!"

Momo frowned, not as convinced by his enthusiasm. "Please, do you really think this place is special? It’s all dark and super creepy!"

"YOU’RE SCARED! YOU KEEP TALKING ABOUT THE INTERNET, HAVEN’T YOU EVER SEEN A GHOST?!" the guy yelled, his voice strangely echoing in the tunnel.

"Not at all," Momo replied with a nervous laugh, though her gaze darkened a little.

"WHAT WAS THAT RANT ABOUT EARLIER?!" she shouted, pointing at the phone. "TAKE BACK EVERYTHING YOU SAID! How can you believe in spirits if you've never even seen one?"

"What's so strange about that?" Momo shot back, crossing her arms. She lowered her voice a bit before continuing: "I told you... my grandmother is a medium. She raised me because... well, because I don’t have parents."

There was a brief silence. Even the guy on the phone seemed to be lost for words. Y/n looked at Momo, noticing an expression they rarely saw on their friend: nostalgia mixed with sadness.

"I didn’t know..." murmured the guy on the other end of the line.

"Yeah," Momo continued, trying to appear indifferent. "My parents died when I was little. So my grandmother took care of me. But of course, my grandmother wasn’t a normal person. She always talked about spirits, spells, energies. Before going to school, she’d make me do a ritual to protect me from ‘bad vibes’ or something like that. And if I didn’t do it, she’d get mad at me."

"And did you do it?" Y/n asked with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood.

Momo sighed. "At first, I had no choice. But... it was horrible. The other kids would laugh at me. Even the guy I liked... one day he saw me doing one of those rituals and, well, he thought I was an idiot. From that moment on, he started avoiding me. It was the worst."

"That sounds tough," Y/n commented, with a more serious tone.

"Yeah, it was," Momo admitted, shrugging. "I got really angry with my grandmother for that. I think I even said things I shouldn’t have. I felt really alone. But... now that I think about it, it wasn’t so much the ritual that bothered me. It was seeing how they laughed at my family, how they didn’t understand what it meant to us."

"It must have been hard," Y/n said.

"It was," Momo repeated, looking down. "I didn’t regain trust in my grandmother until recently. I realized that, even though her ideas were strange, she did it because she wanted to protect me. And... well, it's all I have left of my family. So, even though it’s frustrating sometimes... I guess I understand her."

The guy on the other end of the phone cleared his throat, breaking the mood. "Well... I don’t know much about spirits, but your grandmother sounds... interesting."

Momo laughed a little. "That’s a polite way to put it. But yeah, she is."

"My grandmother..." Momo began, her gaze fixed on the darkness of the hospital, as if she were speaking more to herself than to anyone else. "Her work as a medium... I don’t know if it’s real. I’ve never seen a spirit. Never. I don’t even know if my grandmother can really perceive them. But you know something? I don’t care. Because, at the end of the day, she raised me alone. She accepted me as her family, even when I didn’t understand anything she did or said. And, in some way, I believe in her."

There was a silence in the group. Even the guy on the phone seemed to have fallen silent for a moment, as if Momo’s words had struck him.

"That’s why I believe in spirits," she continued. "Not because I’ve seen them, but because I believe in my grandmother. And that’s enough for me."

Y/n looked at her with a mixture of surprise and admiration. It was rare to hear Momo speak so sentimentally, but somehow, the sincerity of her words hit like a punch to the chest.

"And you?" Momo asked, turning back to the phone. "Why do you believe in aliens, huh?"

"That... that’s different," the guy replied, somewhat uncomfortable. "You don’t have to see something to know it exists. There’s evidence, theories, data..."

Momo let out a short, bitter laugh. "Oh, sure. Evidence and theories. But tell me something, genius: have you ever seen an alien with your own eyes?"

"Well... no," he admitted, somewhat hesitantly.

"Then what makes you different from me? Why do you assume that yours is more real than mine?"

"Because it’s science," he quickly responded, defensively.

"Science?" Momo raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "You call science looking at forums on the internet and reading conspiracy theories from people who’ve probably never left their basement?"

"It’s not the same!" he exclaimed, clearly frustrated.

Y/n decided to intervene before the conversation turned into an argument. "Okay, okay, both of you, calm down. Look, I think Momo has a point. But you do too, mysterious guy. At the end of the day, if you like something, you don’t need reasons to believe in it, right?"

They both fell silent, though their expressions showed they still had a lot to say.

"By the way," Momo added, slightly changing the subject, "you talk about aliens like you know everything about them, but... you have the voice of someone who doesn’t leave the house much, am I wrong?"

"What are you implying?" he asked, clearly offended.

"That you probably haven’t talked to another person in months, other than us on the phone," she replied with a teasing smile.

"That’s not true!"

"Uh-huh, sure."

Y/n chuckled softly while observing their dynamic. Even though they argued constantly, there was something strangely entertaining about their interactions.

"Anyway," Momo said, returning to the previous topic, "I don’t know if aliens exist, but one thing I’m sure of: we don’t need evidence to believe in what matters to us. That includes my grandmother... and I guess your aliens too."

"I guess you’re right," the guy admitted, in a somewhat resigned tone.

"Of course I am," she responded confidently.

"Well," Y/n interrupted, looking around, "before we continue to philosophize, can we just focus on not dying here? Because this place still gives me the creeps."

"I'll second that motion," Momo added, adjusting her hair. "Come on, Y/n. And you, kiddo, keep looking for your evidence. We'll do our thing."

"Don't forget to record something if you see a spirit!" he replied.

"Sure, and if we see an alien, we'll introduce you to it in person," Momo replied sarcastically as she walked with Y/n into the darkness of the hospital.

The boy moved slowly through the tunnel, his flashlight wobbling with each step. The place was dark, damp, and had a strange smell, as if time had stopped there. The echoes of his footsteps made him think he wasn't alone, although he tried to convince himself otherwise.

Suddenly, something stopped him.  A few feet in front of him, a figure appeared out of nowhere.

It was an old woman, hunched over, dressed in worn clothes and a hat that looked like it was from another era. Her face was covered in deep wrinkles, but what stood out the most was her twisted, almost grotesque smile.

“What the…?” he muttered, trying to back away.

The old woman looked up, and her eyes shone with an unnatural intensity.

The old woman took a step forward. “I’ll let you suck my… tits,” she said with a twisted grimace, “if you let me suck your dick.”

“WHAT?!” the boy shouted, jumping back. His flashlight shook in his hand, and, in his panic, his phone almost slipped from his grasp.

“Momo! Y/n! It’s a ghost!” he shouted into the phone, although he didn’t know if they were still on the line.

From the other side of the tunnel, Momo looked up, irritated.  “What is this idiot saying now?”

The boy ran as fast as he could, not daring to look back. Each step echoed like a drum in the tunnel, and his panting was deafening.

“This can’t be happening!” he shouted, stumbling slightly but staying on his feet. “It’s just an old exit! YES, THAT’S WHAT IT HAS TO BE!”

He reached his bike, parked at the entrance to the tunnel, and began to wobble as he tried to mount it. His hands shook so badly that he could barely grip the handlebars. “Come on, come on, come on!” he muttered frantically as he tried to pedal.

At that moment, the cell phone in his pocket rang again. It was Momo. With clumsy hands, he pulled out the phone and answered, still panting.

“AYASE! THAT THING IS FOLLOWING ME!”

“Don’t stop, you idiot!” Momo shouted from the other end of the line. “If it catches up with you, you’re done for!”  “It’s the curse of the Old Turbo! If you lose the race against her, she curses you!”

“WHAT!? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME BEFORE!?”

“Because I didn’t think anyone would be idiotic enough to provoke her!”

The boy looked back as he pedaled, and his blood ran cold. The old woman wasn’t running… she was floating towards him, with terrifying speed.

“NOOOO!” he shouted, pedaling even harder.

“Don’t look back!” Momo exclaimed, almost hysterical. “Just keep pedaling!”

Suddenly, the tunnel was filled with a strange echo.

Momo, who was still shouting into the phone, noticed something strange. “Hey, wait a minute! Y/n?”

The silence on the other side made her stop. She turned her head and realized that Y/n was no longer there.

“Y/n!? Where are you?!”  he screamed, looking around in panic.

The boy’s cell phone began to crackle with static, and the call was abruptly cut off. He was now alone, the echo of the Turbo Old Lady’s laughter filling the tunnel as he pedaled madly towards the exit.

Momo, still holding his own cell phone, felt a chill run down his spine. “This isn’t right… Y/n? Answer!”

Momo made his way down the hallway, the light from his flashlight shaking with each step he took. The air seemed colder with each meter, and darkness enveloped everything around him. “Y/n? Are you there? Please answer…” he muttered, gripping his cell phone tightly.

Suddenly, a strange sound echoed in the distance. Footsteps.

Momo stopped dead in his tracks, his breathing quickening. “Boy? Is that you? Answer!”

But what emerged from the shadows wasn’t Y/n.  They were three tall figures, oddly proportioned. They wore human clothing: buttoned-up shirts with collars, tucked neatly into their pants. The pockets of their shirts were filled with small items, such as pens and a notebook sticking out of one of them. They wore perfectly fitted belts and shiny shoes, as if they had just left an office meeting.

Their heads, however, were anything but human.

They looked like grotesque humanoid masks: expressionless faces with motionless eyes and thin mouths that curved unnaturally. Their movements were stiff, but their eyes followed her with chilling precision.

Momo took a step back, her body trembling. “Who… what are you guys?” she stammered, trying to maintain her composure.

One of them took a step forward, his head tilting slightly, as if he were studying her. Momo didn’t wait any longer.  She turned on her heel and began running down the tunnel, quickly dialing Y/n’s number on her cell phone.

“Y/n! Please answer! There are some weird guys here and—!”

She couldn’t finish. One of the men appeared out of nowhere, blocking her way. Momo screamed and backed away, but she collided with something hard. She quickly turned around and found another one of them, who had appeared behind her without making the slightest noise.

“Leave me alone!” she screamed, throwing the flashlight at one of them in a desperate attempt to escape. The flashlight bounced harmlessly off his chest, and he showed no reaction.

Before she could do anything else, she felt an icy pressure on her arm. One of the men had grabbed her, his grip firm but inexplicably cold. “No, no, no! Let me go!”

The cell phone fell from her hands and hit the ground, illuminating for a moment the expressionless face of one of the men.  “Y/n! Help!” was the last thing she managed to scream before she was dragged into the darkness of the tunnel.

The phone was left there, illuminating an empty, cold hallway. In the distance, the echo of the men’s footsteps carrying her away could be heard, but soon, even that sound disappeared.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Momo opened her eyes in shock and confusion. The room was cold, with metallic walls illuminated by bluish lights, and in front of her were three disturbing-looking figures. With elongated heads, greyish skin and large, dark eyes, they looked like something straight out of a science fiction movie. One of them stepped forward and spoke in a monotonous, metallic voice:

"Greetings, human. We are Serpoians. We are called that because we come from the planet Serpo."

"Aliens?" Momo frowned in disbelief. Her mind struggled to comprehend what was happening. However, the evidence was undeniable: she was facing something that surpassed any logical explanation.

"Do not be afraid," another of the Serpoians continued with inhuman calm. "We are a peaceful species."

Momo, far from calming down, gritted her teeth. Her eyes frantically scanned the room as she tugged at the restraints holding her wrists.  “Peaceful? Nice guys don’t kidnap girls! Where are my clothes?”

One of the aliens pointed to a nearby table where his clothes lay, in tatters. “Your belongings were handled with care. The damage was… accidental.”

“Accidental?! This isn’t cheap! You’re going to pay for this! And I demand that you return me to my home right now!” he shouted, his voice filling the room.

Despite his protests, the Serpoians seemed immune to his fury. “Our species is entirely male,” one explained in a mechanical tone, as if he were reciting a lesson. “For millennia, we have reproduced through cloning, but this has led to the loss of our emotions and genetic diversity. We seek to regain our biological capabilities… using your genetic code.”

“My what?” Momo looked at them with a mix of confusion and disgust. “You’re completely insane! I will not be a part of your Frankenstein experiments!”

Before she could say anything else, the sound of a sliding door interrupted the tension. A tall, sleek figure strode into the room. His futuristic suit gleamed in the light, form-fitting and full of metallic detailing. His face was hidden behind a sleek helmet that reflected his surroundings like a liquid mirror. His presence was imposing.

“Where is my payment?” he demanded in a firm, authoritative voice.

The Serpoians turned to her. One of them held up a black suitcase. “Here you go. However, it is less than agreed. You delivered late.”

The woman crossed her arms, her posture conveying palpable disdain. “My mentor accepts no excuses. Neither do I. This deal was for a larger sum.”

“The delay justifies the reduction,” one of the aliens replied coldly.

The woman clicked her tongue, visibly upset. Meanwhile, Momo, though still terrified, could not take her eyes off the newcomer.  There was something in her voice, in the way she moved… Something that felt strangely familiar.

Her eyes widened as she connected the pieces. “Y/n?” she muttered, almost breathless.

The woman stopped. Slowly, she turned her head towards Momo. Although the helmet still obscured her face, the slight shift in her posture made her discomfort clear.

The room fell into a tense silence following Y/n’s words. Momo stared at her in disbelief, her lips trembling as tears threatened to fall.

“What are you doing here, Y/n? What is this? Why are you with them?” she asked with a mix of rage and desperation.

Y/n let out an audible sigh, placing her hands on her hips. “It’s not personal, Momo. It’s just work. You… were the target. I was paid to bring them what they needed. Nothing more.”

“Nothing more?” Momo raised her voice, her tears finally overflowing. “Is that what I am to you? A job? We were supposed to be friends! I was supposed to be able to trust you!”

Y/n’s helmet reflected the cold lights of the room, hiding any emotion that might have been on her face. But the stiffness of her shoulders gave her away. She tried to stand her ground, looking at Momo from a distance. “This isn’t about you or us, Momo. It’s about… surviving. You don’t understand how my world works. No one survives without making sacrifices.”

“Sacrifices?! Is that what I am to you? One more sacrifice to keep you going?” Momo screamed, struggling against the restraints that kept her immobilized. “You were my friend, Y/n! I trusted you like no one else! I always thought you would understand me!”  But here you are, giving me away like I'm... like I'm a thing!”

Momo's words hit like a hammer. For a moment, Y/n stood still, unable to respond. Something in Momo's voice, in the broken sincerity of her words, touched her heart.

“Do you remember what you told me when you picked me up that night?” Momo continued between sobs. “You said that no matter what, you'd be there for me. That friends never betray each other. And look at you now... giving me away like I'm worthless.”

The tension in the room was almost palpable. Even the Serpoians fell silent, watching the confrontation.

Y/n lowered her head slightly, her voice sounding lower, almost unsure. “It's not that simple, Momo... I—”

“Don't give me excuses!” Momo interrupted her, her voice cracking. “Look at me! Tell me that all of this is worth it!  “Tell me you’re okay with what you’re doing!”

Y/n stood still for a few seconds that seemed like an eternity. Then, she took a step back, clenching her fists at her sides. “I’m sorry,” she muttered, barely audible. Without another word, she turned to the Serpoians. “The deal is done. I’m leaving.”

“Y/n!” Momo screamed, her voice filled with desperation. “Please! Don’t leave me here! Please don’t do this to me!”

But Y/n didn’t stop. She headed for the door without looking back, her bright figure disappearing into the dimness of the hallway. Just before the door closed, Momo, her voice cracking, let out one last scream that echoed in the silence:

“I would never have done this to you, Y/n! Never!”

The echo of her words hung in the air, and for an instant, Y/n stood on the other side of the door.  Her shoulders shook slightly, but she didn’t turn around. With a quick movement, she disappeared, leaving Momo alone, her sobs filling the room as the Serpoians turned their attention back to her.

“Why…?” Momo whispered through her tears. “Why did you do this to me?”

The Serpoians had run out of patience. One of them approached with cold, calculated movements, a strange humming sound emanating from his device.

“Let us prepare to extract the necessary organs. Your resistance is irrelevant,” one declared in a metallic voice.

Momo struggled uselessly against the restraints, her face drenched in tears. “Get away from me! You cannot do this!”

The alien lifted the probe, slowly bringing it closer to Momo. “We will begin the procedure now.”

Suddenly, the sound of a ringtone broke through the air, Momo’s mobile phone began to vibrate on the nearby table. The Serpoians paused, staring at it curiously.

“External interruptions are not acceptable,” one of them said, reaching out a hand to take the device.

Before she could touch it, the phone’s screen lit up in a deep red.  A deep vibration filled the room, and suddenly, a figure emerged from the screen: Y/n, holding a strangely designed pistol.

“Did I interrupt something again?” she asked in an icy tone, pointing directly at the Serpoians.

Beside her, staggering, appeared the boy possessed by Turbo Granny. His body was bent at impossible angles, and his eyes shone with a mix of fear and rage.

“Ayase!” Ken shouted, struggling to stay on his feet as Turbo Granny seemed to control his movements.

The aliens took a step back, observing the scene with a mix of shock and wariness.

“How did you get in here again, Agent Jean Jacket?” one of the Serpoians demanded, raising his hands in a defensive stance.

Y/n let out a dry laugh, though her gaze remained fixed on them. “Let’s just say I have my ways.”

Momo, still trapped in the chair, stared at Y/n in disbelief and rage. “Now you decide to show up?! After everything you did?!”

“This doesn’t change anything, Momo,” Y/n said without looking at her, her voice strained. “This is still not personal.”

“Please don’t give me that again!” Momo screamed, tears sliding down her cheeks.

For an instant, Y/n hesitated, but didn’t respond. Instead, she pulled the trigger on her gun, firing a beam that struck one of the Serpoians, knocking it to the ground.

Turbo Granny, controlling Ken, let out a terrifying shriek and launched herself at another alien, biting it ferociously on the torso.

“Momo, take cover!” Y/n screamed as the remaining aliens began to respond to the attack, their suits glowing as they prepared to fight back.

“I can’t! I’m tied up!” Momo screamed in desperation, pulling at the straps with all her might.

Ken screamed in desperation, his body still fighting against Turbo Granny’s possession. Tears fell from his eyes as the words filled the room, his voice cracked from years of repressed pain.

“No matter how many times I called you, you never came!” He exclaimed, fists clenched, body tense under Granny’s control.  “There I was bullied by children, ignored by aliens… children paid me to beat them up!”

Ken’s words were desperate, but the fury and pain seemed to give him the strength to keep fighting. “My life sucked! And no one cared if I was alive or dead… but (Y/n) and Miss Ayase were the only ones who stood up for me! So get your filthy hands off her!”

At that moment, a spark of control seemed to surge within him. His body trembled, but his mind struggled to take back the reins, preparing to attack. Anger fueled him, his will finally regaining some strength.

Momo, from her position, screamed in desperation, unable to do anything but watch as the fight raged. “Hidden-kun! Do it! We need you!”

But amidst the chaos, the aliens began to move, aware of the growing threat Ken posed. One of them, still reeling from Turbo Granny’s impact, gave an order. “Get those humans! They won’t let this end well!”

The tension rose, but the worst seemed yet to come. A Serpoian, with cold, calculated movements, approached Momo, holding her by the shoulders tightly. “If you don’t give us what we ask for, you’ll regret it,” he said in a monotone voice, while his companion watched Ken, who was still trying to break free from Granny’s influence.

“Gross!” one of the other aliens commented, watching the scene become more and more chaotic.

Momo looked at Ken, fighting against his own body, knowing that control was fragile. “Ken! Don’t give up! You can do it!” he shouted, his voice filled with desperation.

“Enough of all this!”  The voice, firm and full of power, boomed through the room.

It was Y/n. Her presence was imposing, the helmet reflecting the light from the screens, but behind it, her expression was determined.

“I won’t let them hurt you anymore, Momo!” she said, as she raised her gun towards the Serpoians.

One of them tried to react, but a direct shot to his torso stopped him dead in his tracks.

“Hmm?”

Momo briefly looked away at Ken, but soon returned her focus to Turbo Granny, whose teeth were still piercing her calf.

“I’ll eat your cock!”

“What?” Y/n stepped back, horrified, but still trying to understand the situation.

“I… it’s not me! It’s Turbo Granny!”

“Are you really the only ones who can save me?” Momo thought, as her eyes focused on Ken. The situation was becoming more and more chaotic.

The alien and Momo watched the conflict in silence. Finally, the alien turned his gaze to Momo, noticing the chaos between the humans. “Now I will begin with the excitement.”

He extended his hand over Momo, who closed her eyes, feeling a growing pressure. Her face twisted in disgust as, for a moment, she thought she could no longer get out of this situation. It was then that, in her mind, an image from her childhood began to emerge: an important memory of her grandmother.

“Release your chi.”

“I don’t want to...”

Momo, as a little girl, found herself at the entrance of her grandmother’s house, long before she met you or Ken.

“The other kids always make fun of me for that. I look stupid.” Momo explained to the older woman, as her grandmother knelt in front of her with a calm smile.

“No, it’s not like that… When you release your chi, you will never get hurt or sick.  It will also help you keep evil away.” Grandma placed her hands gently on Momo’s shoulders, before taking her small hands firmly.

“Now, tense your abdominal muscles and imagine your chi rising from the top of your head.”

Momo, with effort, tried to follow the directions. Immediately, a painful memory flashed through her: the children laughing at her when she tried to do that pose.

“I hate it! I won’t do it again!” Momo screamed, shaking her head as her eyes widened in fury.

Her grandmother, still patient, held out her hand, asking for calm. “Momo! Wait!”

“I hate you, Grandma! You’re an imposter!”

That moment of anger made the memory flash through her mind in a distorted way. However, deep down, Momo knew she didn’t hate her grandmother. She only felt ashamed, something she was now beginning to understand.

Then, he began to imagine his grandmother’s words, remembering the technique she had taught him. As he visualized the flow of her chi, something inside him triggered, and, in that instant, the chair containing her broke under her energy.

The fight between Ken and Momo stopped at the same time, both of them staring in amazement as Momo began to levitate.

“What?! She never said she had psychic powers!” Ken exclaimed, his eyes wide as Momo floated.

With a slight bend in her legs, Momo raised her hands, looking at the two men around her in surprise. “I… I didn’t know I had them either.”

The alien who had tried to attack extended his hands towards Momo, but she, now fully focused, stared at him. “My psychokinesis is being repelled by a higher force. What’s going on? Maybe the human’s brain waves were overloaded, allowing her to access her chakra.”

Momo, fascinated by the piece of metal floating above her hand, turned her gaze towards the alien with a determined smile. “She’s not an impostor! My grandmother is a genuine medium! Thank you, Grandma!”

Meanwhile, the boy tried to bite Y/n and in the process, ripped off her helmet, revealing Y/n’s pastel blue skin and the dark blue glowing antennae emerging from her head.

She tried to defend herself, trying not to shoot him with her gun, but he scratched her skin, making fissures that healed automatically.

Momo stood up and, with her newly acquired powers, launched a powerful kick at the alien. However, he raised his arm and stopped her with force. “Now I have the power to face these monsters! And make them fly!” Momo shouted, full of determination.

With a last effort, she kicked the alien, sending him through the walls. The explosion that followed was deafening, and the lights in the room began to flicker violently.

Momo screamed as she felt her body collapse, as she watched the destruction falling around her. “We are inside a real UFO!” she exclaimed, surprised, looking around for Y/n and Ken, and finding them on the ground fighting, she was horrified. “(Y/n)! Occult-kun!”

Swiftly, Momo approached Granny Turbo. Suddenly, her body began to glow with a clear light, while her hair flowed wildly. At that moment, the curse that weighed on Ken disappeared.

Suddenly, the room darkened, turning red. Before them, Granny Turbo appeared, her gaze fixed and malicious. “Who the hell are you two?” she said, her voice cold and challenging.

Turbo Granny curled her fingers, causing Ken to pull away from Y/n, his body arching as a painful gurgle came from his lips. Momo watched, eyes wide, recoiling slightly as she saw how Ken was still under Granny’s control. “Granny is out of her body!” she exclaimed, alarmed. “But he is still under her curse!”

“This child belongs to me,” Turbo Granny said with a mocking smile. “As long as I have him, the curse will not be lifted.  I can't stay here for long, but if you want me to free him, go to the tunnel. If you want to fight me, come to me. Damn classless bitches!”

“Who are you calling a bitch, you filthy old woman?! Give him his penis back!” Momo shouted at the ghost that was walking away.

Y/n, seeing Momo so worried and determined, quickly approached her and, with unexpected strength, lifted her into her arms. Momo blushed at feeling so close to her, her cheeks turning red as she couldn't help but look down, avoiding Y/n's eyes, which were shining with determination.

“Don't worry! We're going to get out of here,” Y/n said firmly, beginning to quickly climb the walls of the UFO with the agility of an expert. Momo clung to her, the warmth of her body comforting her, but her mind was filled with chaos. In her chest, a strange feeling was born, something she had never felt before.

Ken, still disoriented from the curse and the explosion, was on the ground, slowly recovering. Y/n, still moving, lifted him up with one hand, placing him on her back as she continued to ascend.

“Come on, Ken! You have to get up, we have to go now!” Y/n shouted, and Ken, his eyes still somewhat clouded, nodded weakly.

The room was crumbling around them, and a dark energy filled the air. The walls were beginning to shake violently, and the lights flickered desperately. Momo, her face still flushed from the closeness to Y/n, looked down as they ascended, unable to stop her heart from beating faster than normal. What was this strange feeling that was invading her?

Suddenly, a loud boom shook the UFO, and a gigantic explosion went off behind them. The walls began to give way, and the ship seemed to be on the verge of total destruction. Y/n, not losing her cool, leapt forward, bringing Momo and Ken with her in her leap, escaping just before the UFO exploded into a ball of fire.

With a deafening bang, the UFO disintegrated behind them, and in the air, Y/n, Momo, and Ken flew through space, jumping out of the ship's reach, completely safe but on the verge of despair.

Momo hugged Y/n tightly, no longer caring about the blush, as the wind whipped at them, and Ken's body rested on Y/n's back.  The scene was chaotic, but it had all happened so fast, and the only thought running through Momo's mind was how she felt so strangely calm in Y/n's arms, as the ship crumbled behind them.

"Are we safe?" Ken asked, his voice weak, as he watched the distance between them and the exploding ship.

"Yes," Y/n answered, without hesitation. "We're safe... for now."

But as they floated in the air, Momo couldn't help but wonder how they could have survived all of that. And even more so, how her feelings towards Y/n seemed to have changed in a matter of seconds, and what it all meant to her.

⊹ ・・───・・・・ ───  ⊹

Near Kamigoe Prefecture, a curious pastel-green being walked casually through the crowded streets of the city. It had the appearance of a puppy dog, though its size, its long antennae that glowed faintly in the daylight, and its tail that swung like a whip of jelly made it clear that it was no ordinary dog. In one hand it held a burrito wrapped in silver paper, and in the other, a large soda that made gurgling sounds with each step.

The little alien eagerly bit into the burrito, spilling some of the sauce on the ground. It paused for a moment, sucking its fingers before continuing to walk. Its attitude was that of someone who belonged there, though it didn’t bother to hide the strangeness of its appearance. People watched it in awe, but the alien seemed immune to the curious glances.

“Mom, look! A puppy!” exclaimed a little girl with braids, pointing at it with joy.

The being stopped dead in its tracks, its ears (or what seemed to be ears) perking up at the sound. It slowly turned its head towards the little girl, its eyes shining like a pair of tiny green suns. “Who are you calling a puppy, kid!?” it shrieked in a high-pitched voice with an accent that seemed to be from another planet… literally.

The little girl’s mother froze, tugging on her daughter’s hand as she tried to process what had just happened.

“Speak, Mom! The puppy is speaking!” the excited little girl shouted, tugging on her mother’s arm.

The alien, offended, snorted and raised his donkey towards the little girl, as if it were some sort of weapon. “Hey, on my planet, insulting someone by calling them a puppy is a declaration of war, you know? But I’m too busy today to respond to your taunts.”

The mother, now completely terrified, dragged her daughter away from the little being, muttering something about “moving to the country.”  The alien pup shook his head as he took a long sip of his soda, producing a clattering sound that drew even more stares.

“Humans…” he muttered tiredly, his antennae twitching in slight annoyance. “You can’t just walk around town without someone mistaking you for a pet.”

He continued on his way, dodging the crowd with surprising agility for someone with a burrito and a soda in his hands. Every so often, he would stop in front of a store to admire some product, though he quickly grew bored and kept moving.

A man in a suit saw him pass by and frowned. “Is that… a dog in a costume?”

“I’m not a dog!” the alien shouted without even turning around. “And stop looking at me like that or I’ll throw my burrito in your face!”

The threat seemed to have an effect, and the man walked away muttering something about “needing more coffee.”

The little creature finally reached the entrance to the town, where the lights were beginning to fade and the shops were turning into open fields. It stopped and looked out at the horizon, its antennae leaning forward as if it were sensing something. It took a last sip of its soda, letting out a loud burp that echoed through the air.

“Fine…” it said, wiping its mouth with the back of its hand. “Now I just need to find that damn ship before someone else calls me a puppy.”

He continued walking towards the end of the city, his half-eaten burrito still in his hand. Behind him lay a line of perplexed humans, and ahead of him a fate awaited him that, as always, would be anything but boring.

The little alien continued to walk with a sure step, enjoying his half-finished burrito, when suddenly, his antennae began to vibrate intensely. A slight buzzing sound went through his head, as if he had tuned into a distant frequency. His expression tensed, and his eyes, which used to shine with indifference, now narrowed with seriousness.

“What the…?” he muttered, looking around as if searching for the source of the phenomenon. His antennae continued to vibrate, and the buzzing sound grew higher. Then, looking up, he saw it.

In the distance, a thick column of black smoke rose from the old university hospital, followed by an explosion that lit up the sky as if it were a misplaced fireworks display.  The alien dropped his soda, which slowly rolled to a stop in a sewer.

“No way!” he screamed, bringing his hands to his antennae as if trying to stop the humming. He looked back at the hospital, frowning in a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “Y/n did it again?!”

The small being began to walk faster, then trotted, muttering under his breath. “I told you not to go soft on the merchandise! But no, you always have to play the heroine, dammit!”

He paused for a moment, as if he had remembered something, and shook his head in frustration. “And you sure left a mess behind, like always! By all the rings of Saturn, you’re really going to listen to me this time!”

With one last glance at the burning hospital, he let out an annoyed growl.  “I hope you at least saved something valuable, because if not…”

The little alien ran off on his short legs, leaving his donkey forgotten on the ground. His pastel green silhouette was lost in the shadows, while the smoke from the hospital covered the horizon, promising chaos and answers in the distance.

A/N ── Oh, hey, it's me again.

First off, let me tell you something: I'm in love with Dandadan. Seriously, I can't even explain how much I was hooked on this series from the moment I found out how it went. It was like a cosmic crush. Each chapter left me more hooked, more obsessed, and obviously I couldn't resist. I ended up buying the ENTIRE manga set that was available so far. I literally couldn't wait to find out what was going to happen with Momo after those last chapters that left me with my heart in my throat. This series is pure magic and chaos, and I can't get over it.

Now, let's talk about my baby, or Y/n. Let me tell you that her spacesuit is directly inspired by Smart Lady from a Japanese series (if you know which one, you're one of mine). I wanted something that screams alien but with style, and I feel like I nailed it... sort of. But, here comes the kicker: her personality is still not well defined. She's a mess, I admit. But that's the whole idea. Because she's an undercover alien, her personality changes depending on the environment she's in. It's like she's constantly adapting to fit in, but at the same time, that lack of consistency is part of her identity. Existential drama at its finest!

And here comes the tricky but interesting part: the character doesn't have a defined gender. Visually, she could pass for a woman, and she identifies as a woman because that's how she feels, but here's the plot twist: she has no defined genitals. Yes, you read that right. She's neither biologically male nor female. She's something beyond that, something that she may not even fully understand. For now, she treats herself as a woman because that's what feels most comfortable and natural to her earthly experience, but... does it really matter? I want to explore how that ambiguity affects her, how it influences the way she sees herself and her interactions with others. It's a key part of her story that I hope to develop little by little.

Oh, and regarding the technical chaos... I know this first part had its problems. It was published by itself, the dialogues were poorly arranged, it was very long, blah, blah, blah. But now, it's all well and good. I think.

[theunsinkableship1]

DENIAL IS NOT A RIVER IN LUKOLALAND

⚠️DISCLAIMER: This is Lukolaland only. Skip if you don't believe.

Denial is a river in LUKOLALAND?

This has to be a joke, right? Some responses that I have received on my latest posts on TT and Tumblr leave me perplexed. Let me make something clear: I’m not here to convince anyone of anything. You have the right to believe whatever you want, that’s your prerogative. However, this is a Lukola space. It’s a space that exists to celebrate their connection, to nurture it from afar, because it shines brightly and is uniquely beautiful.

I don’t know them personally. I can only judge from what I’ve seen and heard, and I fully acknowledge that my perception is biased. My interpretations come from the way I read into their actions, their words, and their patterns. What I share here isn’t fact, it’s speculation based on observation. The only thing I know for sure is that I don’t know what’s really going on.

First and foremost, they are colleagues and FRIENDS. They’ve said that multiple times, and I believe them. For those who doubt their friendship, I don’t know what to tell you. That’s the foundation here. If you don’t even believe in their bond as friends, this probably isn’t the space for you.

But here’s where it gets complicated: they’re not just platonic friends. You may have missed it, but the signs are there, publicly available. You just need to pay attention. I’m not talking about outlandish theories; I’m talking about what’s right there if you’re willing to see it.

I believe they’re in love with each other. As for their current situation? I’m not certain. But the level of plausible deniability in their story doesn’t make sense to me. Maybe it does to you, but for someone who thinks in layers, patterns, double entendres, and undertones, someone who loves words and has studied communication and PR, this whole narrative is anything but straightforward.

Leaving this much space for misinterpretation is a choice. If they wanted to shut this down entirely, they could’ve done so with clarity and finality. It’s not that they can’t make themselves understood without being misconstrued, they absolutely can. But they haven’t.

It’s wise to keep a level of doubt, it maintains objectivity and prevents overreach. However, when coincidences stack up and patterns emerge, it becomes increasingly unlikely that they’re all mere misunderstandings or products of plausible deniability.

The more coincidences there are, the less likely they are to be unrelated.

On their own, one or two could easily be explained away, “just friends,” “PR,” or “fans reading too much into it.”

When similar themes arise repeatedly over months or years (e.g., their timing, shared themes, subtle nods to one another), the likelihood of them being mere coincidence diminishes.

The concept of plausible deniability hinges on actions that could be explained in multiple ways. However, the more layers of ambiguity and deniability built into their interactions, the more intentional it feels.

The subtleties of their public dynamic suggest a shared awareness of fan interpretations. They know how their actions are perceived. To repeatedly engage in behaviors that could be "misunderstood" suggests either: a) Intentional messaging within safe boundaries. b) A significant lack of care, which doesn’t align with how thoughtful and calculated they seem to be.

Take Nicola’s recent Times interview as an example. She could have ended all speculation right there,

“A lot of people really want me to marry Luke,” she says with a laugh. “We have this gorgeous friendship. We have such a love for one another and this experience that I’ll never have with someone else again. Isn’t it gorgeous that a man and woman can have that sort of relationship with one another?”

but she didn’t. Why? There must be a reason. And no, it’s not just PR. PR campaigns don’t operate on layers of plausible deniability that stretch across years, interweave with personal moments, and rely on such specific timing.

Isn’t it strange that for two people who have been so close, their social interactions have significantly decreased compared to before? Over the past two years, especially after the world tour, they appeared to have solidified a deep friendship. If the intent is to disengage fans from the idea that they might be secretly in love, wouldn’t it be wiser to interact more naturally and perhaps even acknowledge each other’s perceived partners?

From a strategic perspective, a like, a follow, or a simple interaction on social media could have gone a long way in dismantling the Lukola narrative. Such actions would feel natural for close friends, especially ones under public scrutiny. Their reluctance to adopt this approach only adds to the curiosity. Why not lean into a strategy that would be less detrimental and more effective at quelling speculation?

Perhaps they are more active on private social media accounts, but publicly, the absence of these gestures stands out. If the goal truly is to clarify their relationship and put fan theories to rest, this perceived distance feels counterproductive. The choice to refrain from such actions, at least for now, is, at the very least, curious. Could it be that there’s a reason they haven’t done so yet?

Both Luke and Nicola have had ample opportunities to firmly address and deny the Lukola narrative. While they’ve made passing comments about being friends, these have lacked the clarity and directness that would fully quash the speculation. Why leave the door ajar if they truly wanted to shut it?

Their reduced interactions seem to have coincided with the conclusion of the promotional period for Bridgerton. During promotions, they were actively engaging with each other and the fandom, fostering the image of a close bond. The sudden change afterward could indicate a deliberate decision to recalibrate public perceptions of their relationship.

The decrease in public interactions after the “papgate” could be their way of managing fallout from the incident, yet it raises questions: Why would two close friends need to distance themselves so noticeably? It suggests a calculated retreat to reduce speculation. However, this strategy seems counterproductive, as the abruptness of the change has drawn more attention. A gradual shift, paired with natural acknowledgments of their respective supposed personal lives, might have been more effective.

It’s possible they’re still VERY close privately but have chosen to limit their public interactions to avoid misinterpretation, or for privacy reasons. If so, this deliberate choice to create distance publicly could point to a deeper connection they’re trying to shield.

This brings us back to patterns. If you observe their public interactions, their timing, their word choices, the double meanings, they’re not random. These coincidences pile up to the point where it’s hard to believe they’re all meaningless. Their bond transcends the boundaries of PR, platonic friendship, or even ordinary relationships.

If you reason in layers, you’ll see it too. The amount of room they leave for interpretation is extraordinary. It’s not just about what they say, it’s about what they don’t say. It’s about the undertones, the pauses, the way they navigate questions, and even the things they choose to share (or not share) on social media. All of this seems to be deliberate. The picture is larger and more intricate than it seems on the surface.

For example: Am I truly supposed to believe that Nicola, who has a higher degree in English and a major grasp of language, would post a Scrabble board with so many elements that could be interpreted through a Lukola lens purely by coincidence? Yes, she’s an avid player of word games, but let’s examine the board itself. It reflects competent but not advanced gameplay, logical and adhering to Scrabble rules, yes, but lacking the level of complexity, strategy, and nuanced word choice you’d expect from someone of her linguistic caliber or from a player displaying their skill.

For me, this was never just about showing off her love of Scrabble. It felt intentional, like an intended message rather than a casual post. If the goal was simply to share her hobbies or an aesthetic moment, she could’ve easily posted a picture of herself playing Scrabble, perhaps with a pint of Guinness in hand. Or she could’ve showcased a more advanced board to reflect her skills or creativity. Instead, she chose this specific board with these specific words, words that align so conveniently with a narrative many of us have come to associate with Lukola.

And let’s not forget her self-awareness. Why would someone who knows how deeply her posts are analyzed by fans continue to share things that are repeatedly misconstrued? If she didn’t want the association, why add layers of ambiguity, such as the now infamous “the very demure, very mindful” quote? What was the reason?

Just two days ago, she posted a photo in her best of 2024 the phrase "if you know, you know." Let’s be honest, how many Lukola edits have we seen that riff of "when you know, you know"? If this wasn’t related to that, what exactly was the point of the “random” quote?  Is it public knowledge or is it something only some know? Nicola is anything but random on social media. She’s chronically online, she’s clever, and she’s incredibly aware of the narratives circulating around her.

These patterns, Scrabble boards, cryptic quotes, wordplay, and selective ambiguity, don’t feel accidental. They feel curated. For someone so skilled with words and communication, there’s intention behind these choices. If it were just for fun, she could have chosen countless other ways to express herself that wouldn’t leave so much room for interpretation. But she didn’t. And for me, that’s speaks volumes.

I’m mainly talking about Nicola here because there’s simply more material to analyze, her posts, interviews, and public interactions offer more clues and layers to unpack. However, Luke’s activity, or rather, his noticeable lack of activity, is equally intriguing and worth examining.

Luke has always been more reserved on social media compared to Nicola, but his recent silence or carefully curated posts stand out. He’s not just absent; he’s selectively absent. There’s a difference between being inactive and deliberately staying under the radar. For someone who previously shared glimpses of his personal life and participated more openly in fandom engagement, his current approach feels intentional.

When he does post, the content often seems neutral, leaning into professional promotion or generic life updates. Yet, the timing or lack of acknowledgment of certain things, whether related to Nicola or even his supposed personal relationships, leaves room for speculation. It’s almost as if he’s consciously avoiding feeding into narratives while simultaneously not shutting them down.

For instance, why hasn’t he addressed certain rumors head-on, as he has done in the past with other relationships? Luke has historically been upfront about his. It’s a choice.

Considering that Luke has been involved in other projects and worked with other co-stars since the end of the Bridgerton world tour, the ratio of content related to Nicola remains strikingly high. Among the limited glimpses he does share, Nicola accounts for the largest percentage of reposts and interactions. What’s even more telling is that the majority of this content is Lukola-focused, centered on his dynamic with Nicola as individuals, rather than strictly Polin-related, which would be tied to their characters and professional pairing. Yes, she is his MAIN co-star within the Bridgerton universe, but this level of engagement is noteworthy.

This isn’t to say he doesn’t appreciate or acknowledge his other co-stars; it’s just that the weight of attention, however subtle, consistently gravitates toward Nicola. Whether it’s the choice of what he reposts or the absence of comparable attention toward other colleagues, the pattern emerges loud and clear.

If we analyze this through a lens of probability and statistics, the numbers paint an even more intriguing picture. Let’s say Luke has worked with five to seven notable co-stars in other projects and in Bridgerton, if he has been tagged in or had the opportunity to engage with 100 pieces of social media content since the world tour. If Nicola accounts for, say, 60% of the interactions and reposts, despite being one of many co-stars, it defies the expectation of a more even distribution.

For context, if he were equally invested in all professional relationships, the engagement with Nicola might hover closer to 15-20%, proportional to the size of his broader network. The fact that this number is so much higher, let’s conservatively estimate at least three to four times greater raises questions. Is this simply because of their shared Bridgerton fame? Perhaps. But then why focus on individual Lukola moments, bypassing more neutral or inclusive Polin or broader cast content?

From a mathematical standpoint, the odds of this being purely coincidental diminish significantly when you layer in the context:

Nicola has the highest percentage of reposts across Luke's social media activity.

The type of content intimate, personal, or Lukola-specific reflects a curated choice, not random selection.

Even in a professional context, where Polin content would be the obvious promotional focus, the Lukola-centric moments shine through.

Given the numbers and probabilities, it seems less likely that this pattern is accidental or merely reflective of professional obligations. Instead, it suggests an intentionality that aligns with the depth and uniqueness of their connection.

Promotion for Bridgerton Season 3 has come to a halt, creating a quiet period where we can observe and compare how Luke approaches the promotion of his other projects.it could highlight how unique his dynamic with Nicola truly is.

The nature of the content he shares for other projects will be equally telling

By comparing these promotional efforts both in terms of frequency and tone to the patterns established during the Bridgerton promotional cycle, we could gain insight into whether his approach to Nicola was truly unique or simply part of his broader professional routine.

When coincidences pile up, their probability of being just coincidences shrinks dramatically. A single instance might be random, but repeated instances with similar themes, timing, and emotional undertones suggest a deeper meaning. While maintaining doubt is reasonable, the sheer volume of these moments suggests that there’s more at play than mere misunderstanding. It’s not about overreaching, it’s about acknowledging that where there’s consistent smoke, there’s likely some fire. What type of fire is there currently? I’m not sure. Are you? Probably an Eternal flame.

[beuxwhoyouare]

Getting Away with It

I almost got away with it. Truthfully, I didn't even know I would go as far as taking him out. But I mean he had it coming, I heard all the horrible things he had done that I could hear through the penthouse walls in the building I worked in. All the times he'd abuse a partner, slur people in the halls, not to mention act like he was a god because he made good money in sales or whatever.

He crossed a line one day, as I saw him nudge someone into the street nearly getting them hit by a bus. So sure was it right to take him out? Maybe not, but did I feel good taking one bad person off the streets...absolutely. Unfortunately, what I did was caught on camera and the legal system takes that narrative with no context and runs with it.

So I mean yeah I almost got away with a drastic good deed. But now I'm here on a life sentence for murder. I like routine in my day and in here the days are so regimented it's not exactly the kind of routine I find myself a fan of. I remained on good behaviour until the guards took pity on me and recommended me for supervised community service aid. Basically, still in jail but instead of working a job in jail, I could go out and help them clean garbage off the side of the road with parolees on the outside and random others doing a "good deed."

That's where I met Jacob. He was on parole for driving while intoxicated. Truthfully, I find that way worse than what I did. Like that feels so selfish...getting behind the wheel while drunk. Despicable. But clearly it's been the catalyst for him to turn his life around. He was in jail for a year and been on parole ever since. He started working out in jail while getting certified as a trainer. There aren't alot of jobs life after lockup that don't discriminate against you for your record so it makes sense that he'd want to do something where you can be your own boss.

We were in the van being taken to the stretch of highway in between developing parts of the city. It's crazy how looking north and south you can see parts of town and smack in the middle there's this road with tall weeds and shrubbery lining it. We were joined by a class of university student volunteers who were advised to keep their distance from us. Something we all sort of ignored since there's so much trash to pick up.

"Hey Lu, I gotta show you this thing this crazy old hippie gave me back in town." Jacob quietly told me as we scoured the brush for bottles.

"Dude we have things to do and I don't really want them to take me off this shift." I begrudgingly replied.

"Nah nah the guards aren't even looking at us they're flirting with the female students over there."

Sure enough our bozo headed guards were chatting it up with some girls that were supposed to be helping us. That's when I glanced over and saw Jacob holding what looked like an antiqued golden coin or rounded stone with a symbol scratched into it.

"The dude gave it to me in a box and said if you hold it in your hand and then make skin-to-skin contact with someone else you like transfer consciousness."

"So I see life on the outside is just as crazy as it is in here."

"You mean to tell me you don't even think it could be a little bit true? C'mon bro this could be your chance to get out out of jail. Shit if you don't try it I might as well. I'm tired of all these probationary restrictions. I just wanna hit restart."

"You're already out. It can't be that bad?" I said as I turned around to see him sneakily hurrying off towards one of the college students.

"Shit what is he doing."

I rushed over to where Jacob was and pulled him by the loops of his jeans to not cause a scene. Stopping straight next to one of the students picking up trash a little bit away from his group.

"Dude I don't know what you're aiming to do but if it doesn't work you're the one that's going to look like the insane paroled convict with an ambiguous item in his hand that could be misconstrued as a weapon."

"Listen, if it works it works, but if it doesn't there's no harm no foul and we can call it all a joke."

Before I could even protest, Jacob turned on his confident charisma to whistle over the nearby student. As the curious student walked closer I could hear the narrative Jacob was intricately weaving pretending to care about what he was studying and if he could tell us both more about it.

"I'm so sorry kid, I didn't even catch your name. I'm Jacob and this is Lu." he said with a devlish smile.

"I'm Mark." he said with a slight hesitance.

"Well Mark you shared so much with me can I share something with you? A party game you can take with you to your friends back at school?"

"Uh sure yeah."

"So you find a smaller coin or stone and one person places their hand on the bottom of it and the other on top. The person with their hand on the bottom has to try to and tap the person with their hand on top without flinching"

These rules made absolutely no sense and why would they Jacob's plan was himbo incarnate. Like it was so dim I could see Mark tense up and begin to shift away back towards his friends. He tried to say goodbye to Jacob but that's when I saw this crazed energy flood Jacob's eyes. The next things that happened felt like a blur in slow motion.

Mark turned around to return to his classmates with haste. Jacob quickly began following without running to not alert the guards yet shouting for him to wait up because it's all good fun. And before I knew it I took off running to stop Jacob from taking advantage of an innocent person.

Jacob leaped at Mark and tackled him to the ground but it's only the moment when I got there to break it up did the guards finally notice what was going on, rushing over.

He pulled the stone out and tried to grasp at Marks leg under his wider legged jean, while I reach out to stop that hand. THEN BAM. Everything became darker and several flashes of light happened.

When I came to the guards were pulling me up. I heard what I thought was Mark's voice saying the one in the jumpsuit attacked him. But I didn't run after him? As things pulled back into focus for my eyes after the darkened haze. I saw Mark being calmed down by a professor and a guard but then I saw who he was point at.....I was my body but I was to the other side.....

My body turned to me matching my confused expression and began crying hysterically asking what was going on. I looked down and saw the confirmation of what happened. I was wearing Jacob's clothing. And if my body's surprised too....then that means....God no!

The guards rangled up the convicts and put them all shackled back onto the van as another came to apologize to the university professor and her class along with "Mark". Another guard came up to me saying he knows that Lu is a murderer and that I didn't start any of this so I was getting a slap on the wrist, especially after "Mark" insisted I tried to stop the attack. The guards left and told the rest of us we could go.

The student approached me with that same devilish smile I recognized from before. His voice coming out unfamiliar in sound but with an all too familiar malice.

"Hey thank you again from saving me from that gruesome murderer mister. I didn't even catch your name. I'm Mark." he said with a wink.

"Jacob what the fuck are you doing?" I frantically asked.

"I'm giving you a way to get away with it all and me a clean start. But I gotta go back to school so here take my number down." the imposter student airdropped his details to me before scurrying away.

I was still in shock from everything that just happened. Like this cannot be real how the hell is this happening. Where do I go okay I can do this. I fumbled through my wallet as I searched for an address to head to. Eventually I made my way to Jacob's place. It was a hotel that was turned into extended stay studio.

I walked into the foreign "home" that was now all mine. My heart felt like it was going to explode out of my chest. This can't be happening that poor kid is now in jail. Oh god....wait. I'm not on the run why am I this stressed. Think think how do I fix this. An exercise ball peaked out from the side of the bed. My new athletic stature made me think maybe catering to it's physical senses could help me breath and calm down.

I did a few crunches but still felt a pang of guilt hitting my stomach. Oh god I need to fix this but where is the coin? I can't leave that kid incarcerated, that's robbing him of his whole life. Almost like clockwork my new phone buzzed with a text.

"Hey. Thanks again for saving me stud." the unknown number made itself known with that context.

"Jacob we need to fix this. That poor kid doesn't deserve this."

"Who's Jacob? This is Mark! And I think I deserve all the opportunity I've worked hard to get. Hey by any chance have bodily urges hit you? I'm not gay but after the incident when I saw you I got realllll hard all of sudden. I think this kid's gay or something."

I was furious reading these texts still skirting responsibility.

"Enough! Where are you we have to talk this is ridiculous."

The phone buzzed as I opened to see a location pin as a picture came in...my jaw dropped.

"Oh you wanna meet irl daddy? Come on over."

I stormed over to the location of the pin…I’m not going to let him get away with this.

[lavendercodes]

Could I request a Vander x vastya reader? Specifically a lioness or tigress if that’s ok!

Mainly around Reader being a protective mama for the trouble squad (their kids lol)

Vander: Love, they tried to fight a gang we can’t-

Reader: nope. My babies. Mine. Don’t care.

Do No Wrong.

a/n: I apologize ahead of time if this is not the best, i'm not too informed on the different species. I did do my best to research and look up information, so hopefully that will suffice. left the species a bit ambiguous.

warnings: none

one day, your kids came home a little more battered and bruised than normal. of course, you were incredibly concerned, so you stepped away from the bar to make sure they were alright. with a knowing nod to Vander, you stepped into the back and began walking down the stairs to the kid's room. their conversation quickly ceasing. your ears flattened a bit, clearly something went wrong. a low hum left your lips as you walked to the cabinet, grabbing the med kit and walking towards the group. "who's first?"

Vi had seemed to take the brunt of the fight, so you sat down across from her. a frown was evident on her face, she didn't want to be treated like she was fragile. "you gonna tell me what happened?" looking up at her as you cleaned her split knuckles. when she didn't respond, you turned to Powder, raising an eyebrow. however, she anxiously bit her lip instead and pulled her knees to her chest. with a sigh, you continued to bandage up Vi's injuries and moved on to the other's.

"i'm not going to be upset with you guys, I'm just worried." you started of softly, moving your head to look Vi in the eyes. "if somethings going wrong, you can tell me. I just want to make sure you guys are safe."

"they were picking on Powder." Vi finally huffed.

that would do it. you nodded and closed up the kit. "how many of them were there?"

"four." Mylo had his arms crossed over his chest and an annoyed look on his face. "if Powder," he said in an accusatory tone, "hadn't gotten distracted and lagged behind there wouldn't have been an issue."

"shut it, Mylo." Vi spat.

"okay, that's enough." you intervened, "it wasn't anybody's fault. all that matters is that you guys are okay and that you took care of each other." you reached forward, brushing a strand of Vi's hair out of her face with one of your nails. a smile made its way on to your face as you lowered your voice, "did you guys win?"

a small smile tugged at the corner of Vi's lips, "yeah."

"good." you got up, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. each of the kid's got a small kiss before you walked back upstairs, finishing up the last hour that The Last Drop was opened.

later that night, Vander was cleaning up the bar station as you made sure everything was cleaned up. when the two of you finished, you retired to your room to get ready for bed. as you changed, your tail flickered a bit as Vander appeared behind you in the dirty mirror.

"what happened earlier?" he asked, wrapping his arms around your torso.

you clicked your tongue, your tail swaying against his stomach. "the kids...may have gotten into another fight with a group of kids." you hummed, turning around to face him.

Vander sighed, his brows and sighed. "i'll have to talk with them later."

"nope." you said, patting his chest and walking over to the bed. his eyes followed you as you sat on the edge of the mattress.

"(Name), they can't just be getting into fights all of the time." he tried to argue, scratching the back of his head before following you. "what happens if one of them gets seriously hurt?"

one of your ears twitched as you raised an eyebrow, "Vander, they're tough kids. all they were doing was protecting Powder, it wasn't their fault the other kids instigated." your husband sighed and dragged a palm down his face. it was clear her was just worried about them, what father wouldn't be? especially if his kids had a habit of attracting trouble. a frown made its way on to your face, "we can have a conversation about them being more careful, but nothing more."

Vander was about to open his mouth and argue, but you shook your head, standing up from the bed and walking back over to him. "they're okay. trust me." your tail curling around his wrist.

"okay." he sighed, leaning closer towards you as you nuzzled your head against his chin.

you blew a puff of air against his neck and pulled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek. "good, leave my babies alone." a small laugh leaving both of your lips, "now lets get some sleep. we have an early start tomorrow."

the two of you shared a brief kiss and climbed into bed, turning out the lights before tangling yourselves together and falling asleep.

i feel like this is shit, i'm so sorry. i've been out of the writing game for a long time. any feedback is appreciated! just be nice about it.

[completeoveranalysis]

[6]

SCREAMING FOREVER OK EVERYONE SIT DOWN

Since the literal beginning of all this the big hanging question behind Clow Reed has always been, “Is this the same one or a different one?”

And under that question came infinite other questions such as, “How could this be the same one if he died ages ago?” and “Is this an Alternate Universe Clow Reed- oh god how many Clow Reeds could there possibly be?!”, and even “Is this a Clow Reed Clone? Or was the CCS Clow Reed a clone all along?!?!” and on and on into forever.

ENTER: THE MOST SIMPLE ANSWER OF ALL. 

IT’S JUST THE SAME GUY. 

THIS WAS THE CLOW REED FROM CARDCAPTOR SAKURA ALL ALONG. 

And I’m just LOSING MY MIND because that means a huge part of Cardcaptor Sakura is centered on a lie. 

Or like, not REALLY a lie. It’s still true that he's dead. But Clow Reed lied to everyone he left behind, and those are all the people we get our answers from in that series. He told them he was going to die and they believed him.

I suppose he could have phrased it ambiguously? But if he DID it was with the intent that they thought he was dead, because that's what they think. He told them that on purpose.

AM I GOING TO GO DOWNSTAIRS AND FACT CHECK WITH CARDCAPTOR SAKURA? ... YES. OK.

OK OK OK OK HERE WE GO KERO SAYS THEY SAW HIM DIE. There we go, 100% he lied to them and even made it look convincing.

WAIT HAVE YOU READ CARDCAPTOR SAKURA? DON’T WORRY LET ME TELL YOU EVERYTHING YOU NEED TO KNOW. (But if you don’t want spoilers for everything before Clear Card just skip the rest of this post). 

So the ENTIRE narrative of Cardcaptor Sakura centres on the fact that Clow Reed is dead. He died and left Yue and Keroberos in charge of the Clow Cards and their legacy. (Which is what is being depicted in the Top Left of this page. It's the conversation Clow had with Kero and Yue when he suddenly announced it to them). He died and left a family legacy for Syaoran to eventually inherit - however distantly, we don’t actually know. He died and had foreseen Cardcaptor Sakura, and left gifts and hints for her to continue his legacy and eclipse it. He died and his magic as a power source was dying all these years later, which was why she had to convert the cards, to save them, and Kero, and Yue. 

EXCEPT, HE DIDN’T DIE. 

Or at least, he didn’t die right away. He told Yue and Kero that he was going to die (and made them think they SAW it) and then FUCKED OFF to the Clow Kingdom to live there happily and raise Sakura and Touya there. 

WHICH. I am hung up on because that means in Clow's original reality, which is essentially our world, he had foreseen his death and that Cardcaptor Sakura was going to become his successor - and then, I guess, found out about the big Time Reset Wish that Evil Wolverine did for Lava Lamp, which trapped an alternate version "Sakura" in a Frozen bubble of time that would leave a new 'cloned' copy of her in the new version of the timeline. But that means Clow also would have had a vision of what happens to this new version of the Alternate Sakura, and the huge fate that lay ahead of her, and also that she did not have parents anymore, and so he was like, "AH YES A JOB FOR ME? Let me just tell everyone who loves me that I’m dead and slip over there for like ten years and ride that out." 

But not only that but CLOW REED IS IN CARDCAPTOR SAKURA TOO. HE IS THERE. HE IS ERIOL AND HE IS FUJITAKA. HE SPLIT HIMSELF INTO THE TWO OF THEM. 

Which means that he, like, told Yue and Kero that he died, went to the Clow Kingdom, lived that out, then told THEM that he died too, then went back to his original reality and Split Himself into two new people. Which counts as “death”, TECHNICALLY, sure. There is no more ‘Clow Reed’. He is not a singular living person anymore. But he didn’t “die” in the way that his family in Cardcaptor Sakura AND Tsubasa thought. Though it amounts to the same thing. 

EXCEPT - there is Eriol. Eriol inherited Clow Reed’s memories. So HE KNEW ALL THIS. HE KNEW THE WHOLE TIME. 

HE TECHNICALLY IS OFF IN CARDCAPTOR SAKURA DOING HIGH SCHOOL SHENANIGANS WITH THE FULL KNOWLEDGE THAT HIS DAUGHTER (SAKURA CLONE) IS OFF DYING FOR THE UNIVERSE AND TRYING DESPERATELY TO SAVE IT FROM EVIL WOLVERINE. WHILE HE’S SITTING ACROSS FROM YAMAZAKI AND MAKING STUPID JOKES. 

Though like, full disclaimer, I don’t actually mean it was at the same time. Because (a) time runs differently on different worlds, and (b) we are very lucky that’s true because otherwise it becomes a headache trying to piece it all together, but also (c ) Time travel, so we don’t even need to worry about it. I was at the end of writing another huge paragraph trying to put the events all in order but DONT WORRY ABOUT IT. TIME TRAVEL EXISTS. It all becomes circles in the end anyway. 

So like, don’t worry about it. :) Time Travel. 

The more fun thing is that Fujitaka technically existed as his own separate person in the Clow Kingdom FIRST, with Nadeshiko. Until time reordered events and Clow Reed jumped in to be Sakura’s new dad, before going back home and splitting himself into two people - one of which is the Fujitaka from Cardcaptor Sakura. Like. How does that work on a personal level. Did Clow Reed choose to let part of himself become the guy he replaced, or was he always kind of an Alternate version of him to begin with.

And then THAT Fujitaka meets the alternate Nadeshiko and they fall in love all over again. Which is also fun because it means that THAT Nadeshiko existed in this universe without a Fujitaka in it, Until Clow Reed came back split himself INTO the guy he went over there to replace, and BECAME the guy she was destined to fall in love with, even though he didn’t technically exist at all before that point. 

VERY HITSUZEN OF IT ALL. 

[hailturinturambar]

Thoughts on Charlie Vickers's interview

Once again I'm analyzing an interview! In addition to this one, I've already separated two others that I'm going to analyze. If I find more, I'll definitely publish them too! :)

What I love most about Halbrand is that not even Charlie knew Halbrand was a fake. That makes the story better, doesn't it? Everyone suspected Sauron would be present at the show, but no one knew when or where. Not even Sauron himself.

This raises the stakes. The suspicion is not just from the audience, but from the cast as well. And Charlie is being genuine in his portrayals. Because he doesn't know there's something going on, but he acts on his own suspicions. It makes the character ambiguous. A great addition, I'd say.

A very interesting point between the beginning of the first season and the prologue of the second is the change in Halbrand's attitude. Yes, he was a stranger and we suspected all the characters of being Sauron. But apart from small characteristics, which could have been put in the show just to deceive, we didn't have many clues against Halbrand.

It's Charlie's brilliant performance that makes us think, "Yes, this is Sauron. Look at the way he carries himself." Halbrand on the raft in season two had a dark weight that wasn't as present in season one. But it's Charlie's face, his gaze, his way of speaking that accentuates Sauron's presence.

Charlie as Annatar is like a new person. He is unrecognizable from Halbrand's appearance. Annatar reminds me more of Mairon from the early days, with his powerful, godlike aura and his cold, calculating manner. A far cry from the carefree mortal man.

Annatar is very god-like. Distant, powerful, feared, icy. Halbrand and Annatar could be two completely opposite people, but they are not. Not deep down. However, it is with mastery that the characters were portrayed in such an opposite way. Like Sun and Moon.

Who knows, Sauron himself may have been affected by his human representation. After all, being Halbrand was the lowest point in his life. After losing so much, he returned in the form of a mortal man. I believe that at that moment, at the beginning, not even Sauron understood his place in the world.

Medici and Alice Hart were examples of Charlie's brilliant acting. I watched both for their roles and was impressed with Charlie's performance. He always gives his soul on screen and even though his appearance doesn't always change that much, his essence is completely different.

Sauron is undoubtedly a challenge. He is a major character, the most beloved villain in Tolkien's books. A villain we have rarely seen on screen. In the LOTR trilogy and as a Necromancer in The Hobbit, Sauron is a very distant figure, because his essence is there, but not Sauron in his physical form.

“I think that that is just part and parcel of: he is the Lord of the Rings.”

Are you kidding me, Charlie? You completely understood the character and you're trying to kill me by saying this.

This always gets me. I love how they never know who they're going to play, it must make it more interesting and mysterious. Honestly, I can't imagine Charlie playing anyone else. He's Sauron through and through. There's no other character he would have suited more.

This news didn't just change your life, Charlie, it changed all of ours. The actors in TROP are truly rare gems. They dedicate themselves and delve deeply into Tolkien's books to portray them in the most honorable and faithful way possible.

Oh, I'd love to know how Charlie felt when he discovered that in addition to playing a character in the book, he was portraying one of Tolkien's most important characters.

Prime Video, please record moments like this. Can you imagine what that conversation was like? I need to know how it all happened, I would like to follow every moment of the production of the show.

Yes yes!! This dedication was noticeable on the screens.

I would say that Sauron as Halbrand lived his most vulnerable and humiliating moments. This connection between repentance and humiliation before the Valar and kneeling before Adar was a very good connection.

These humiliations, the moments when Sauron is plunged into his own disgrace, certainly encourage him to continue and come back worse than before, stronger than before.

Sauron is relieved to be back, Charlie portrayed this so well. After thousands of years without form, stripped of much of his power, crawling to survive, to be in form again, able to control the things around him, must have been Sauron's greatest relief.

It's amazing to see Sauron's form in his rebuilding process. From a great, powerful Maia destroyed, to a slimy, lifeless form that lives more humiliatingly than an animal, to a human form. Did Sauron feel this weight, all this humiliation? He lost a lot of grace from his past self, so I bet he did.

The duality and ambiguity between Galadriel and Sauron, in my opinion, is what keeps the audience's attention. Because we're constantly theorizing and thinking. We wonder if, after being at his worst, Sauron is being vulnerable for the first time in a long time.

Or we also wonder if all of this is just an illusion and he's understanding how Galadriel feels so he can manipulate her to his own advantage.

Not speaking romantically, I think it was a bit of both. That Sauron was vulnerable at times, after all, he had lost so much and was still not fully confident, like when he became Annatar. But also, as he did with Celebrimbor, he also used what Galadriel wanted to manipulate her and get her to follow his plan.

What I like about Sauron is that even when he's inside an illusion, when he's created a whole new form to deceive the people around him, he's still Sauron, he's still the same person.

The level of connection between Sauron/Galadriel/Celebrimbor, not only showed how the two manipulated elves felt, but also exposed parts of Sauron. Fears and vulnerabilities that I don't believe he wanted to share, but that ended up being revealed through the connection.

And the scenes remained completely the same. It almost seemed like they filmed everything in the first season, it was so similar. As I said a little above, the weight of the scene changes a lot, Charlie's entire posture changes when the audience and even he himself know who Sauron is now.

We are like Galadriel, looking back and noticing that while everything remains the same, everything is different now.

The prologue of the second season was like a dark retelling of the first. We have all the facts presented under a new perspective, under the understanding of who Sauron is and how he returned to Middle-earth.

Our entire perspective changes when we realize that Charlie is Sauron. The Mist lifts from our eyes and we see Halbrand's actions from a new perspective.

I like the idea of ​​Galadriel-Light (although she is partly grey) and Sauron-Darkness. It's like the attraction to darkness, a tug of war that we witness with the characters, seeing who will give in first.

Besides new scenes that aren't in the book, I can't think of how they could have made Galadriel and Sauron meet again. However, I have complete confidence in the producers and the team that everything will work out in the end.

[lured-into-wonderland]

“Preferences for a mug for today or for a mug that we are going to get for me soon?” – she asked cheerfully; it would be too much to say that Nunnally got used to this kind of conversation with Ravein, when she had to fill in gaps or missing information. She had never considered herself to be too good at it, but it wasn't that she minded it too much either.

She had always lived in an environment clouded with secrecy, although Nunnally might not have been always aware of it. Though she perceived Ravein secretive, she didn't see his silent nature in the same way as she was thinking about her own father. Mr. Ambly des Ayvalles. Her father.

Even during the times she believed he was merely a successful businessman, her father had spoken little, often leaving her to guess or figure things out on her own. Perhaps he thought he had been clear enough? Nunnally could never truly decide. The ambiguity of his words and actions created a veil of mystery around him; one she rarely dared to penetrate. Even back then. When he was j u s t her father. It was now much clearer for her as she reflected on her childhood and early teen years trying to identify what had gone so wrong. After she had learnt the truth...

With her father, she preferred not to ask questions, fearing the disappointment of trying and failing to understand (or rather to please) him. His silence was a wall she had learned to navigate around rather than to confront. This unspoken distance between them left her feeling isolated (unhappy even), always yearning for a connection that seemed just out of reach.

In contrast, Roberto’s kitchen, with its warm, inviting atmosphere, offered a different environment. Here, she felt (more) comfortable and relaxed, even though she was surrounded by unfamiliar things and sights. The presence of Ravein added a layer of comfort, a stark difference from the guarded interactions she had grown accustomed to at home. Or rather in her life in general.

Probably that was the reason Nunnally continued speaking not really giving Ravein any time to proceed with a reply in his notebook.

“Any mug will do for now…I like the thin edges though…”

A pause.

“I like all various shades of blues…Oranges or reds…” – true, she liked intense colours, but it was also a sort of a new situation for her, when she was to decide what she wanted. She had learnt not to care about details like that. But her very own mug here… Well, that was a much more difficult decision in Nunnally's eyes.

What would she like?

Initially she had thought 'birds' or 'ladybugs' or 'polka dots'. While she would surely like all of them, Nunnally suddenly thought they might be too a v e r a g e for a special occasion like this one: getting her mug here. But what would be special?

“Anything that you choose Ravein…” – she said realizing that it was not about the mug but about getting it together with him – “You know…” – she continued slightly surprising herself with that – “It’s not really about the mug but about getting it with you…”

“But I like birds… and intense colors…” – Nunnally added, feeling unusually relaxed. In her ease, she reached out to fix his hair, a gesture so natural for her that she forgot to be cautious. Though he showed no visible reaction, the moment she withdrew her hand, she realized her mistake. She should have asked for p e r m i s s i o n before touching him. She suddenly remembered how uncomfortable Ravein was with anyone, except perhaps Roberto, invading his personal space. Though was he comfortable with Roberto? She had never witnessed these two interacting without her being involved (mainly in a bad way), so she could not be sure either.

The realization brought a faint flush of embarrassment onto her cheeks. She had overstepped a boundary. Again. What was a causal form of intimacy for her, was probably something else for Ravein. Nunnally had only hoped that he would understand that her gesture had come from a place of affection and not disregard for his feelings.: --

“I…I am sorry.” – she hoped he would understand what she was apologizing for as she didn’t find it in herself to provide more explanation.

And she simply focused on preparing the drinks. Though his return to his chair poured some hope that her overstepping was not as much unwelcomed as she initially had thought.

He was confused. What was so funny? A small head tilt to the side as he stared at Nunnally laughing. He could tell that somehow she was laughing at something involving him, but it didn’t bother him any. He didn’t sense any mal-intent behind her laughter, but perhaps she found something silly or endearing that caused her laughter. Whatever the case, it was better than seeing her upset earlier, so this was a nice change of pace.

For the most part, he kept out of her way as much as he could by sitting down on the stool, watching as she’d move about in the kitchen, trying to figure her way around to prepare to beverages: one for himself and the other for Roberto. The latter had gone to attend to the customers out at front, and he remained in the kitchen with Nunnally, watching her every move with curiosity and interest.

It was interesting how Nunnally had started to hum a song, one that was unfamiliar to him, but he had to admit that it was a pleasant tune. It felt like it was one that brought her joy, or was reminiscent of happier times in her life- and if that were the case, he’d be happy. The mindless humming or singing often were signs of being in a pleasant mood, so it was nice to see that she must have felt comfortable enough to start humming.

Yes, for anyone who knew Roberto and Ravein for any amount of time, they probably would have a good guess which mug belonged to whom, but they may have still ben surprised that Ravein would choose such a cute mug for himself.

What would be a fitting mug for Nunnally? Ravein wasn’t very sure, but he somehow had an image of flowers suiting her, maybe something with brighter colors. There was also something that told him that maybe she’d like a cute animal theme as well… maybe a cat or a bear? Those were cute, and people liked those (this is what he gathered from the times that Roberto would do art on drinks for kids, they usually asked for things like cats or cute bears).

She didn't have a dedicated mug for herself now, but he and Roberto could probably find one for her soon. Her mug from before was left at the table, so for now... they should choose another one for her.

[Okay] [Preferences?]

The ex-assassin has always been acutely aware of his surroundings and is sensitive to the movement of others, so he noticed when Nunnaly turned to him and moved closer to him. Trained in keeping his emotions steady, he didn’t reveal a change of expression, nor could anyone notice if his body went stiff at her approach. Perhaps the only thing one could notice was that for a few seconds, he held his breath.

When she moved some locks of hair out of his face, he blinked in surprise. He was unnerved by the approach, but it was a testament that he was willing to trust her in the way that he allowed her to even touch him. He really was doing his best to learn to trust her and to feel safe around her- despite the ‘family business’.

Getting up from his seat, he walked over to where Roberto kept his coffee beans and opened the cabinet to reveal an assortment of containers full of coffee beans, all neatly labelled with their origin, the roast, and the date of when they were procured. He returned to his seat afterwards, returning to being a quiet observer once again. Not that he ever really made much sound to begin with.

[tom-foolery-incorporated]

Cock Worship with ES!Bumblebee

NSFW MDNI 18+

Gender neutral and sex neutral reader, racially ambiguous, oral, face fucking, sub reader dom Bumblebee, I’m so normal about Earthspark Bee I promise

Bumblebee’s pelvis twitched as his spike rested atop your face. He couldn’t hold back the smile that formed on his intake at the sight before him. Your eyes were wide open and practically heart shaped, your lips parted with gentle yet excited breaths passing through, and your form sitting so obediently on his berth.

He measured the length of his spike against your face for a moment. Bumblebee hummed in thought as he rubbed his cock against your face, his transfluid leaking from his tip down your forehead, nose, and finally across your cheek. He couldn’t hold back his amusement at seeing your chest moving in needy pants of air. The idea that you were so excited just having his spike laid over your face made a smug feeling wash over the mech.

“Cute,” Bumblebee cooed cupping the back of your head. “Do you want my spike?”

The way you jerked forward then stopped yourself from pouncing on his heated cable didn’t go unnoticed. “Yes,” you said breathlessly. “Yes! Please can I suck it?”

Bumblebee’s cooling fans jittered at your request. Of course he wants nothing more than to shove his spike down your throat and watch you struggle to swallow his overload but it was so fun watching you squirm and wait for him to order you around.

“Yeah?” He mocked while stroking the back of your head. “My desperate little slut wants to suck me off so bad?”

You clenched your fists against your lap and let out a whine. “Please!” You begged doing your best to stay still. “I want your cock, please!”

Bumblebee’s hips stuttered as his optics fluttered closed at your begging. You were going to be the death of him.

“Frag,” he groaned thrusting against your face. “You know I can’t resist you when you beg like that.”

He could hear your needy panting and practically see the heated air steaming out of your mouth. Bumblebee’s own excitement continued to leak down your face and he could tell by the way you licked around your lips you were desperate to have him in your mouth.

Bumblebee guided your head back as he pulled his hips away from you. His spike slid down your face until the tip made contact with your lips.

He could feel his spark throb in response to how you looked up at him with nothing but pure love as your lips puckered against his tip. Pink transfluid leaked down your lips and dribbled down past your chin. “Go ahead, Sweet Spark,” Bumblebee purred. “I’m all yours.”

Like a well trained pet told it can finally eat its food you dove onto Bumblebee’s spike. You grabbed around the girth of his phallic cable eagerly. You rubbed your hands up and down his spike as you panted in excitement. “Thank you,” you murmured as you pressed kisses to the tip of his spike. “Thank you.”

You ran your wet tongue along the length of his cock trying not to slobber all over the hot metal. Bumblebee chewed on the flexible metal of his lower lip trying his best not to lose his cool and start fucking your face. His door wings fluttered in bliss at the loving attention you payed to his throbbing spike.

His transfluid was spread all over your lips like a perversion of lip gloss.

You followed your tongue up his spike with wet sloppy kisses. There was no point on his thick throbbing cable that your lips didn’t touch. Every hot inch of metal was lovingly covered in spit from your licking and kisses. For you in this moment, his spike was everything. The baby blue biolights, the yellow flexible metal, the way it weeped pink fluids, and how Bumblebee’s own shaky moans echoed in your ears.

“Frag,” Bumblebee groaned watching you savor his spike. “That good?”

“Mmm,” you moaned running your lips up his shaft. “You taste so good. I wish I could just live off of your cock.”

Bumblebee punctuated how he moaned your name with a sharp swear. You were going to be the death of him.

“You’re just going to keep teasing me or are you gonna let me fuck that pretty little face?” Bumblebee groaned over his whirring cooling fans.

Your eyes lit up at his offer and you quickly dropped your hands from his shaft. You looked up at Bumblebee and opened your mouth invitingly for him to take whatever pleasure he needed from you.

“Primus,” Bumblebee moaned pushing the back of your head towards his spike. “You’re too good to me.”

With a sharp thrust of his pelvis he pushed his spike as far as it could go into your mouth. Your gagging only spurred him on. The slobber you produced around his cock mixed with the pink transfluid creating a foamy light pink liquid.

“So good,” Bumblebee moaned thrusting into your face. “You’re doing so good.”

You kept your eyes trained on his optics as you choked and sucked around the massive intrusion in your mouth. Your drool dribbled down your chin in an erotic streak of spit and transfluid. Bumblebee’s servo stayed steady on the back of your head as he thrusted into you trying to balance his neediness with not tearing your poor throat.

By now you feel like your body should have adjusted to his size. Your body should have molded itself to being the perfect pleasure doll for the mech.

You only looked up at Bumblebee with pure love in your eyes as he took whatever he wanted from between your lips. His own optics darted over your face suddenly feeling nervous at the unadulterated attention you gave him.

“Look at you,” Bumblebee groaned trying not to shove the rest of his spike down your throat. “Look at how good you take my spike. Primus what did I do to deserve such a-“ He cut himself off with a wailing moan as you hollowed your cheeks and tried to suck more of him in.

“Little slut,” Bumblebee laughed giving you a harsh thrust that made you squeak and gag. “You’re too much.”

His thrusts picked up in intensity as your eyes watered from the battering his spike put your throat through. You knew you’d be raspy and sore for a while but God was it such a pleasant reminder of what your lover did.

“I’m gonna overload,” Bumblebee moaned his thrusts becoming shaky. “Take it all! Primus I want to see you swallow it all!”

You did your best to move your head in time with his thrusting. You worked so hard for his release and you were going to get what you wanted one way or another.

His needy moans flowed through your ears like a symphony and his transfluid flowed into your mouth like liquid gold.

The acidic taste was difficult to get used to but now you practically wished you lived on it.

Bumblebee gave your mouth a couple tepid thrusts as you tried to swallow around his cock without choking. “Primus you’re so good,” Bumblebee moaned. He swore under his breath as he slowly slid his spike out from between your lips. You followed him trying to keep him inside of your mouth earning a low chuckle from the mech. He held your head in place so he could properly pull himself out from the warm grasp of your mouth.

Transfluid leaked from the corners of your lips and dribbled down your chin. You gave a couple coughs when Bumblebee finally pulled out of you.

“You look wrecked,” Bumblebee laughed his faceplate flushed blue.

You licked around your mouth earning a low groan from the yellow mech before you. “I wanna warm your spike,” you said in a raspy voice.

Bumblebee hissed feeling his over stimulated spike twitch at the idea. “No,” he replied giving your head some gentle pets. “I don’t want you to go completely voiceless.”

You nodded trying to hide your disappointment and instead opted to grab his servo and nuzzle your face into it.

“I love you,” you rasped.

“I love you too.”

[dat-town]

we bloom at night

Characters: vampire!Sunghoon & vampire hunter!female reader

Setting & genre: urban fantasy au, angst, almost lovers to enemies to lovers (romeo and juliet-esque?)

Summary: They say almost is the saddest word. You thought it was ridiculous. Until Sunghoon became your almost.

Warnings: minor character deaths, guns, canon-typical violence, MC gets slapped by her father, mentions of blood, ambiguous ending, possibly annoying amount of moon references

Words: 3.2k

Author’s note: inspired by the untold concept cinema - the last scene is set immediately after the end of that; title from moonstruck; @restlessmaknae you can call me out on writing so much for bonedo but can we talk about how this is also my 3rd Sunghoon story this year? (and all of them are angsty oops)

It was always going to end in a tragedy.

From the moment you knew who he was, what he was, there was no other way. It didn’t hurt any less though.

The first time you met Sunghoon he was playing piano at the Moonlight Gala. You couldn’t help but think that he was beautiful, unearthly so. The white overhead light painted him pale, his dark hair a stark contrast like ink against snow. You were enchanted, both by his music and his appearance.

Your father scolded you for not paying attention to the chairman who was asking you about your after graduation plans. As if you had much of a choice! It didn’t matter that you were born a girl or that you hated violence more than anything. Three generations of soldiers serving the country… you couldn’t break the family tradition. Your opinion never really mattered because in your household, your father’s word was law and outside of it, you had no choice but to agree with the colonel. No disobedience was allowed, you learned that early on.

The gala was held in the name of charity for orphans but in reality it was just another chance for the chairman to show off his influence and pretend to be a good samaritan while using the charity funds to buy his second wife a villa on Jeju. You hated him and their equally two-faced, egoistic son who thought girls should stay quiet and just be pretty. Your cheek still burned from the memory of your father’s slap after you dared to indulge in an argument with the guy over rights and things such as equality because how dare you disrespect the heir?

You couldn’t wait to get away from the crowd and from your family, so you used their distraction during speeches to slip away into the gardens and it seemed like the pianist preferred the silence of nature as well, now that his services were temporarily not needed while the rich and influential were busy praising themselves inside. He stood by the fountain, the moon reflecting on the water and its shine highlighted his beauty. You might have been too mesmerized, too obvious, because when the boy looked up, he immediately caught your gaze.

From a young age you were taught to own up to your mistakes and to always act like what you were doing was intentional because you couldn’t allow yourself to bring shame to your name by showcasing anything else than perfect composure, so you didn’t shy away. You kept eye contact even when the pianist tilted his head in question and you raised your chin as you closed the distance between you with a few light steps.

“What was the song you played last?” You asked because the melody was like no other you heard before yet it was stuck in your mind.

“It’s an original. It’s called Moonstruck,” he said and even his voice was beautiful, mellow and soft.

His answer was followed by brief silence but it wasn’t awkward. Your fingers mimicked the way his fingers moved over the black and white keys over the railing and oh how you wished you were taught to create music instead of how to hold a gun.

“You are the lieutenant's daughter,” the boy spoke up again and it wasn’t a question, you both knew. Anybody could tell from the way you were pestered around all night.

“First and foremost, I’m Y/N,” you said because being your father’s daughter was one thing but you were your own individual without your family’s influence as well.

Your correction made the pianist smile a bit. The small gesture looked good on him.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Sunghoon,” he introduced himself and looked at the moonlit water again. There, under the full moon, you traded secrets unlike strangers usually do. He told you that he had grown up in an orphanage, befriending his best friends there, and you told him about how your older brother was like your own best friend, your only supporter under your father’s regime. He was the golden son, good at everything and making the family proud with his achievements in the military already as a rookie. He promised to put in a word for you after he earned himself a promotion, that he would ask your father, so you wouldn’t have to follow down this path.

It was such a comfort, this little bubble you created in which you weren’t judged, where you were actually listened to. But the idyll broke when you heard your name being called and it brought a frown onto your face.

“I need to go,” you excused yourself, apologetic, and the boy nodded, understanding.

“I should probably go back to my post as well,” he muttered with a half smile and your paths diverged.

But before the end of the night, Sunghoon slipped a napkin into your hand smoothly, asking when he could see you again. It made your heart flutter like nothing before.

You thought it was romantic: sneaking around, sending handwritten letters, keeping the ones from him under your pillow. The political unrest shown on TV due to the emerging vampire attack cases not being handled efficiently was just an afterthought in the back of your mind, your father’s complaints at the dining table fading in the background because all you could think about was seeing Sunghoon again. 

But then everything changed when your brother died. His throat was torn and bloody, fang marks clear and you swore over his dead body in the hospital’s sterilized table that you would avenge him.

Joining the military’s new government founded vampire hunting unit seemed like the right choice. The president was finally taking steps against the threats that have been lurking in your country for a while now. Needless to say your parents were proud and even though you knew you could never replace their favourite son, it didn’t stop you. You weren’t doing this for them after all, you were doing this because your brother was the best thing in your life and his death was unfair.

You didn’t expect Sunghoon to support you, after all it was a dangerous job and the complete opposite of what you had wanted to do previously but you thought that he would at least understand you and why you needed to do this. But maybe you didn’t know him as well as you thought, not even after weeks of talking and sharing stories nobody else knew.

“You said you didn’t want to go down this path,” he said quietly, his shadow even taller than him in the alcove you found your temporary safe haven.

“That was before. I have to do this,” you argued because you were angry at the world and you felt lost without having a purpose. Sunghoon’s reluctance to accept your choice hurt more than you expected it to be. Maybe you wanted him to embrace you, to stroke your hair and tell you that everything would be alright. But Sunghoon’s eyes were sorrowful for reasons you weren’t aware of and his distance cut deeper than the knife you accidentally hurt yourself with during training.

“Y/N…”

“You can’t change my mind,” you cut him off because you didn’t want to hear more. You ripped yourself away before he could have touched you and walked away, the lonely moon showing you the way in the night.

That was the last time you saw him as a human. Or at least when you thought he was human. Because the next time you met, it wasn’t one of your secret night rendezvous behind your parents’ back. It wasn’t apologies whispered or heartfelt letters exchanged. It was your first field mission as a rookie of the vampire hunting team.

The past few weeks you pretty much lived on the military base, drowning yourself in training and practice. You wanted to be the best, you had so much to catch up on. On days when it was particularly hard, when you had new scars on your hands, soreness in your muscles and received insults for being daddy’s little princess and just wanted to cry, you missed your brother the most. It would have been so much easier with him by your side. Then you started missing Sunghoon too and something you never really had and you had to snap out of it because you couldn’t get distracted.

(You had no idea that he had spent those weeks visiting your house, watching your window, hoping to see the light or for you to lean outside of the window, any sign that you were well. You had no idea that one of his friends had been caught while stealing blood bags from a hospital and the military was on their trail. You had no idea that he missed you too, like waves missed their guiding moon.)

The mission you joined was supposed to be an easy one, just a quick in-and-out at a warehouse that supposedly had frequent vampire activities. The team’s job was to check on that and if confirmed, get information about the approximate number of bloodsuckers hidden there.

Maybe it was the nerves or the pressure to prove yourself but you wandered off after noticing movement in one corner and no amount of training could have prepared you for the sight of a teenage girl with bloodshot eyes and blood dripping from her sharp fangs. You had a gun in your hand, the same type you had shot with during practice. You knew the feel of metal and just how hard you needed to pull the trigger. You knew exactly how many seconds it took and yet, you stood there frozen. You always imagined vampires as ugly villains from children's stories or faceless murderers from horror movies, but this girl looked so human, even covered in blood. She was just a child…

A child that was attacking you.

Everything happened so fast. Before you could even lift your arm and aim, the girl was on you, baring her teeth, then the next moment she was yanked off you with a strength you didn’t think was possible. You gaped at the person who did it, even more so when you recognized him in the dim lit warehouse.

“Are you okay? Did she hurt you?” Sunghoon asked with worry in his midnight dark eyes, with a cold hand against your cheek to check you for injuries.

He didn’t look afraid at all, if not for you and you were the one with a weapon in hand, that was the first thing you noticed. Then you put two and two together: the reason behind his pale complexion and flawless beauty, why he wasn’t fond of the government’s stricter rules or why he was especially wary of your sudden change of heart.

“You… You are one of them. Those monsters,’ you whispered with a gasp in shock. It felt like a betrayal, a knife straight to the heart. Even if he wasn’t the one who had killed your brother, he was one of them.

Sunghoon hissed like your words could actually hurt him as he pulled his hands back, looking scared that even his touch was repulsive to you now.

“Y/N…” He called your name softly, like he had called you so many times before but its sweetness turned sour to your ears now. His being alone changed so many things.

“Leave,” you gritted your teeth, trembling fingers curling around your gun firmer. It was heavier in your hand than it was supposed to be. But Sunghoon didn’t move, so you looked up, straight into his eyes and repeated. “Leave. This is the last kindness I can give to you.”

This beautiful boy looked at you with such sorrowful eyes that you could feel your eyes tear up. He didn’t understand. He had to leave. If others saw him…

“Please,” you begged and lifted the gun, pointing at his chest, right at his broken heart but you could have pointed at your own too.

You both heard the footsteps coming and it was then when Sunghoon disappeared as swiftly as wind, leaving only a breeze of his musky scent behind. The moment he left, you fell to the ground, and a comrade found you like that.

It didn’t take long after that for word to get around. You were a weakling. A shame. But none of it mattered with a broken heart.

The sound of palm meeting skin echoed in your childhood bedroom. Your cheek felt hot even after your father pulled his hand back and you forced your gaze to the ground.

“Don’t you see, stupid girl? He was using you to get information about us,” he claimed as if he knew the boy whose picture was now on wanted posters all over the city, him and all his friends from the orphanage too. Everything came to light quickly after that: his appearance at the gala, your late night talks, the secret letters hidden in your pillow  and your weakness for a beautiful boy with a mole on his cheek. A vampire.

You disappointed your father once again.

“He isn’t like that,” you argued because even in the light of the recent realization you were not willing to believe that Sunghoon played pretend the entire time and none of his softness or kindness was genuine.

“Did he or did he not know about your connection to the military?” Your father pressed and you couldn’t deny that. He knew who you were before you even talked. But who didn’t at that party? Your father liked to show off your family.

“Yes but…”

“See? You’re so naive. I should have known better than to believe you can avenge your brother,” your father didn’t even let you finish and turned his back on you. End of the conversation.

Now, it felt like a cosmic joke that the next time you met Sunghoon, it was in an abandoned music store with broken glass and soldiers’ bodies lying all around. He was sitting in the car that crashed into the building and listened to the music coming from the cassette player. Light piano music like the first time you had seen him.

The government had called for an aggressive attack on all known vampires to ‘clear’ the cities that morning. Everything was closed down and every active soldier was on the field. You heard of the first troop opening fire at the car with seven vampires and how they stopped reporting back to the base. That was when your lieutenant father came up with his great idea: to send you in, alone, because one of the vampires trusted you and you knew a deal when you saw it: it was your chance of redemption if you ever wanted him to consider you as his daughter again. You weren’t sure you wanted though. Still, you agreed because not going was the worse choice both for you and Sunghoon. Even if you were supposed to be a martyr.

“Are you part of the backup they sent?” Sunghoon asked without looking up, his fingers drumming on the steering wheel as if he was playing the last few notes of that pretty melody.

“I’m supposed to be the distraction,” you admitted, voice tight, limbs nervous. Not because you were in the middle of a battlefield and if your father gave the command, you would go down with everything around you. Not because soldiers in bulky uniforms were scattered behind you injured or dead. Not because you were afraid Sunghoon would hurt you. Even his friends let you pass by them without a word, some didn’t even glance at you, others followed you with their gaze but didn’t get up from their place, didn’t stop you either. You were trembling because you weren’t sure how Sunghoon would treat you after you had called him a monster. But you should have known better than to doubt him.

When he got out of the car and turned to you, he didn’t look at you with hatred or disappointment, he looked at you with care, worry. He didn’t approach you as if he was afraid that you would push him away like last time.

“You need to leave, Y/N. It’s going to be hell when the backup arrives,” he warned you as if you didn’t know, as if there wasn’t a gun tucked inside his pants just like you had one taped to your thigh. You were prepared for hell.

“You… it wasn’t you, right? You didn’t kill the mass like they claim, right?” You asked, almost desperately, because you needed to know. They plastered the city full of their faces, calling them murderers, killers of dozens, but you couldn’t imagine him doing all the atrocities that were pinned on them and you knew how the government needed scapegoats just to prove the funding had gone to a good place, so you wouldn’t have been surprised if it was all a lie, you just needed to be sure.

“We only kill if necessary. Like now, they attacked us first,” Sunghoon explained and you knew that he was telling the truth about the letter because you heard your superior say that the vampired wanted to leave town quietly. You also saw the bullet holes in his Sunghoon’s jacket.

“They are everywhere. They surrounded the area. They say they will burn down the neighbourhood if they have to and I…” You started rambling because you didn’t know what to do, what you could do at least and you were starting to panic because it had already been some time and what if the soldiers were already on the move and…

“Hey, shh…” Sunghoon cooed, quiet and kind, like he was reassuring a child as he cradled your face in his hands and pulled you onto his chest. He smelled like smoke and metal but he was warm, you nuzzled closer.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into his shirt, fingers curling into the sleeve of his jacket to keep yourself steady.

“We’ll get out of here alright, okay?” He said under the watching eyes of the rising moon and you wanted to believe him so badly.

You wanted to get far, far away and start a new life. You wanted to sit next to him and watch him play piano. You wanted to be with him without hiding, without holding back. You wanted to believe that you had a future despite his immortality and your human fragility.

“Okay,” you forced a hopeful smile and Sunghoon slid his fingers into the seam of yours to intertwine them.

He led you to his friends and asked what you knew about the ambush the soldiers were preparing, so you tried your best to tell them all the small details you caught on while waiting in front of your father’s office. And just like that, you really became the traitor he already thought you were. But between a father who kept you in a cage and never wanted you the way you were and a boy who wanted you despite everything, you chose to follow your heart.

Even if it led to hell. At least Sunghoon was holding your hand through it.

[be-compromised]

Secret Santa 2024 Masterlist

Thank you to everyone who took part in this year’s holiday fic exchange, from writers to beta readers to all you lovely people who leave comments. With an especial shout out to our heroic pinch hitters, @alphaflyer, @caiti-creative-corner, and @cassiesinsanity !

All gifts and authors have now been revealed, both on AO3 and on the masterlist (here and on dreamwidth). You’re now free to post, share, and link to your gifts wherever you like! If you could in some way link back to the exchange or the community, to direct people to all of the other wonderful fics as well, that would be appreciated.

If you feel inspired to fill any other prompts, or create stocking fillers or non-participant fills, please feel free. These just won’t be included as part of the Secret Santa exchange or on the masterlists.

From all your be_compromised mods, we hope you have a happy holiday season and wish you all the best for the new year. See you in 2025! ~ inkvoices, gsparkle & CloudAtlas 💜

Ain’t A Saint by @inkvoices for @huntress79 Mature; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton/James Barnes, Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff/James Barnes Summary:“I lead a group of immortals. Soldiers, like you. Two of us have already been experimented on - tortured - and I need you to come with me and get in the goddamn car, because it might already be happening to someone else right fucking now." Natasha, Clint, and Bucky dream of a new immortal. Meanwhile, a Stark Industries research vessel has found the Valkyrie. An Old Guard AU.

A Christmas Invitation by @caiti-creative-corner for Hurt_loves_comfort Teen & Up; Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff Summary: Natasha might be stubborn, but Clint could wait her out . . . and he had good reason to be patient.

A Kiss for Luck by @cassiesinsanity for @firlalaith Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: A number of random, shared kisses that lead to one special kiss on New Year's Eve.

A Russian Lullaby by @iriel3000 for @chaed Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, various friendships Summary: Based on the prompt by Chaed: “Clint isn't the only one haunted after New York. Natasha struggles with unexpected Hulk PTSD.” Ever wonder how "Natasha, we need a lullaby" originated? Clint thinks Natasha is hiding an injury but soon discovers it’s more.

At the Rose & Quill by @caiti-creative-corner for @cassiesinsanity Gen: Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton & Kate Bishop Summary: Serenity and knowledge go hand-in-hand at the Rose & Quill, and Laura loves the serenity it brings her odd little family.

Backstage @scaarletwiitch for @mondstadtlover6000 Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Clint is struggling in his role on the technical crew for this year's production of the Nutcracker. Natasha arrives as a guest artist with the ballet company, feeling like an outsider. 

Be More Obvious about It by @firlalaith for @heroofshield Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Clothes say a lot about a person.

City Kid by Hurt_loves_comfort for @delektorskichick Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop, Alexi Shostakov/Melina Vostokoff Summary: Natasha Romanov has been living in the city and doing ballet since she was four. What happens when an injury sends her to the countryside where she meets one Clint Barton?

Collecting Strays by Ultra for @inkvoices Teen & Up; ambiguous relationships - Clint Barton, Natasha Romanoff, James Barnes Summary: He hasn't known her long, but he's known her long enough. When Strike Team Delta are sent to take out the Winter Soldier, all Nat has to do is blink, and once again, Clint finds himself making a different call.

Earworm by @delektorskichick for @paperairplanesopenwindows Gen; Clint Barton/Laura Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Clint Barton/Laura Barton Summary: In a world where whatever song your soulmate gets stuck in their head also gets stuck in yours, Laura Barton has the unfortunate luck of getting a soulmate who loves those stupid, annoying commercial jingles. What's even more annoying is when it will randomly shift to classical ballet music. Laura's soulmate is so dead when she finally meets them. Note: Soulmates in this can be romantic or platonic, so it can be read either way as far as Natasha goes.

Faces of Ghosts by @paperairplanesopenwindows for @icantopenwaterbottlecaps Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary:"Were you aware that Yelena's sister is my ex-girlfriend or was I just supposed to find that out when I complimented her costume myself?" "Huh?" America asked, clearly confused. Clint noticed that Yelena seemed unsurprised by this information. "Yelena..." Clint groaned. She clasped her hands together in faux innocence. "Wow! What do you mean? You know my sister, Natasha?" "What the fuck, Yelena?" "I had no idea," she said fervently, but was clearly holding back laughter. "I had no idea at all. Otherwise, I definitely would not have invited you both to this party with no warning."

favorite parts by @mondstadtlover6000 for @endlesstwanted Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Clint and Natasha get sent on a vacation—no, a mission. They think it's a mission, anyway.

Hearts & Roses by @huntress79 for ufohnoparty (why_didnt_i_get_any_soup) Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff/James Barnes, background Clint Barton/Melinda May, various friendships Summary: Fresh off yet another breakup, passionate florist Clint Barton relocates himself from semi-rural Iowa to BedStuy in New York, where his first boss and best friend Phil Coulson has found a flower shop in dire need of a capable owner. What he doesn’t expect is that his neighbors, tattoo artists Natasha Romanov and Bucky Barnes, not only will be responsible for his first tattoo, but also turn his whole life upside down – in the most positive way.

is it to soon to do this yet? by @quidnunc-life for @archers-and-spies Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: “When I told you two to get to know each other through a fun common interest,” says Coulson, “I meant watch an episode of Dog Cops or something. Not blow a city up together.” Or: Everyone knows Natasha hates Clint, but if they want to be a STRIKE team, something has to change.

i thought the plane was going down (how'd you turn it right around?) by @archers-and-spies for @cloud--atlas Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Being a weather witch is all fun and games, until you're seated next to the girl you walked out on ten years ago. Clint has the worst luck.

of dance cards and suitors by @icantopenwaterbottlecaps for Ultra Gen; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: “How about love?” he asks. Natasha tilts her head at Clint, an errant red curl falling from her elegant coiffure as she waits for him to elaborate. “Won’t you marry for love?” Or: a Clintasha Regency AU

Operation: Incoming by @alphaflyer for @scaarletwiitch Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Alexi Shostakov/Melina Vostokoff, Yelena Belova & Kate Bishop Summary: Natasha puts the phone down with a deep sigh and turns to Clint, with a look that’s a mix of apology and abject terror. “Incoming! Alexei and Melina are coming to New York and want to spend Christmas with us. They’re arriving tomorrow.”

Solecism by ufohnoparty (why_didnt_i_get_any_soup) for @iriel3000 Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Natasha Romanoff & Steve Rogers Summary: Natasha and Steve are on a mission together in Budapest. Things quickly go south and Steve doesn't know what to do when Natasha is gravely injured. She tells him to call her husband. What husband?

Something So Magic by @heroofshield for @caiti-creative-corner Gen; Clint Barton & Natasha Romanoff Summary: Sometimes the most unlikeliest of friendships are formed in a disappearing coffee shop.

The Mastermind vs. The Master Assassins by @cassiesinsanity for @alphaflyer Mature; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff Summary: Its driving Tony nuts trying to figure out the deal with Clint & Natasha, so he recruits some friends to help him find out.

Two To Tango (Or Kate Bishop’s Guide to Helping Your Mentor Realize He’s In Love with his Partner) by @alphaflyer for @quidnunc-life Teen & Up; Clint Barton/Natasha Romanoff, Yelena Belova/Kate Bishop, Pepper Potts/Tony Stark Summary: “These two are such idiots. Why don’t they just admit that they are crazy about each other?” Kate and Yelena see a problem and set out to fix it.

[corsairspade]

every time i interact with the silmarillion i get weirdly excited about the fact that the authorial intent is that it's a translation of historical accounts. it's a tertiary source! none of it is first hand. it makes it so much more interesting. was the legendarium a mannish tradition? what parts of these were written by pengolodh? by rumil? what loremaster has recorded this? would there be bias in the accounting? can i trust what i'm reading, from this viewpoint, this many years after it would have been written?

what has been mythologised, what has been sanitised, what is third-hand written on rumour? it's such an interesting thing to consider.

[thepringlesofblood]

[raytoroapologist]

putting Conclave on a fucking shelf until you all learn to be normal about intersex people.

[icarianlibrary]

BAHAHAHA RIGHT?? Me and this other person who just YAPPING about the characters in EPIC (What I said is below) but the 3 Min slow mode was CRAZY.

Circe is so intelligently written. She is a women who only cares for things if it affects her directly, or her nymphs. Throughout the Circe Saga, we see her judge, manipulate, and almost kill Odysseus. But in the end, she ends up helping Odysseus with the divine and mutual goal of the Hatred for Poseidon. Though the dismay for him are for completly seprate reasons: Odysseys’s hatred stems from Poseidon’s ruthlessness; while on the other hand, Circe’s hatred stems throug the abuse and manipulation Poseidon puts women through, they have the understanding that they both hate Poseidon, which ultimately makes her caves. Circe is so incredibly written as an anti-villian, and recognizing that she is not confined by the boxes of “Good guy” or “Bad guy” can extremly change one’s views on her can exponentially change their view on her. Along with this, Jorge does an incredible job of writing morally ambiguous characters. Name one character who is truely the villian? You can not. Odysseus is a villian throughout the entire story to other’s around him. Poseidon is mearly avenging his son. Polities may seem like the peacemaker, but quoting Hamilton here “If you stand for nothing what will you fall for”. On the other hand Eurylechus has the Crew’s best interest in mind, but he has struggles with Hubris. Penelope unthreaded her tapestry every night in mallice to avoid the suitors. Telemachus never stood up for himself. Zeus was just going by justice and providing the best future he could with the circumstances, persuading Odysseus to kill Astynax. The gods mentioned in God Games simpily do not care for the Jouney(ssy) of Odysseus, and are overall reckless, even going so much as wishing bloodshed on others, but they also let him reign free after the convincing of Athena.

Athena is not able to understand human emotions until she meets Odysseus’s son 12 years after falling out with Odysseus because of her Apathy. Athena really only wanted Odysseus’s success though, and knew emotions would get in the way. I already covered Circe, so I’ll be skipping her. Calypso was a game for the gods. She manipulated Odysseus, but she also was longing for someone to love her. Hermes did his best to help Odysseus, but ultimately was sent in a grey area overall because of his relation to the gods. No one in EPIC is the hero, nor the villian. They’re all the puppets in someone else’s game.

NO ONE in EPIC is a redeemable character, and that’s why they’re so likeable! Odysseus has a savior-complex that he looses into a selfish reason to only save himself and his family. THE MAIN CHARACTER. The EPIC characters are so likeable because they aren’t perfect or only flaws. THAT is what builds a great chaarcter, and Jorge does a splendid job building onto that.

The thing is, even the gods are pawns in the game they created. Take Prometheus, he played the gods’ games and won. Daedlus, syphilis, all of them. We, as humans tend to gravitate towards an explanation for EVERYTHING. That is my personal belief on why the Greek myths are as they are, humans need an explaination for things! For me, as a Mormon person, my explaination lies in the hands of God, BUT in the hands of people from ancient Greece (Or modern day Hellensitic folk, hey y’all!!), that is their explaination! The myths, and every content inside are all an explaination human’s use to understand. We are the player, they are the pawns.

So NONE of my EPIC the musical mutuals were gonna tell me that an EPIC-secret-Santa-art-thingy was going on?? Hater… /j ily <33 ANYWAY take the EPIC doodles for compensation

Ignore how bad Polites is colored, I drew & colored him in a FedEx store while waiting for my father to get his order finished 🙂‍↕️

[vaguely-concerned]

what would I do without you. indeed illario.

lucanis trust me! indeed illario. the ea-nasir vibes on this shitty little rat of a man (somehow still slightly affectionate despite myself)

I am obsessed with WHERE this letter is found and what we're meant to read into those context clues. I don't have a handy save for this mission right now to double check the details, but from memory: It's the room across from what seems implied to be Caterina's room (Lucanis says these are the family quarters, so Illario has kept her locked in her own room all this time probably?? Oh oh house arrest, house arrest for grandmother for ten thousand years style)? We find the scraps of a letter from Zara to Illario, torn to pieces with one fragment still in the empty fireplace so presumably we're meant to assume he burned it, and this old letter from Illario to Lucanis lying neatly on a table. Whose room is this? Because here's a theory one could put together that has some real crazymaking potential for me specifically at least:

Considering that we're helpfully down to only three Dellamortes to account for, it's likely either Lucanis' or Illario's room. If I'm remembering right/let's for a moment assume that Caterina is being confined to her own rooms -- the fact that Lucanis is her favourite and also heir apparent I'd say tips the scales for me that it's likely she'd keep him closest, whenever he's home. Thus opening for the possibility that all this time Illario has been staying in the room of the cousin he murdered but as it turns out not hard enough that he didn't come back again like a haunting, reading his own old letters to him that Lucanis apparently kept all this time (!!! ow !!!), and sparing them from the spiteful fate he gave Zara's 'aww chin up you'll get 'em next time babe' one, right across the hall from where the grandmother he apparently can't bring himself to kill or seriously hurt even with everything else he's done is imprisoned and i n c r e d i b l y pissed off, if she gets out of there while he's sleeping or something he's fucked. Has he been sleeping in Lucanis' bed since kidnapping Caterina????? (did they ever share a bed, when they were children? for comfort if not ever out of real necessity?) is this some kind of incredibly fucked up way to try to be close to them both somehow even when he is the one who messed it all up to begin with? no matter what I have so many questions here what is WRONG with this family???????? (well I don't think we have time to get into all that right now that's a novel not a text post probably fhsdkj)