#ss firework

[therussiancourier]

au again

-Don't touch me, employee. You're a psychopath

translating only snooore mimimimimi snoooooore mimiimmi

[oscconfessions]

In an entirely platonic sense I think Firework SS telling me he’s proud of me would fix me

.

[solxamber]

Guide Rank: Overwhelmed || Malleus Draconia

Being a high-ranked guide is tough—you’re basically a glorified babysitter for overpowered, emotionally constipated espers. But it gets harder when Malleus Draconia, the strongest esper in existence, asks you to guide him. And somehow, despite it all, you’re pretty sure Malleus is the best thing that’s ever happened to you. Or: Guideverse au!

Series Masterlist

The world is a nightmare. It used to be bad enough with things like taxes, slow WiFi, and that one sock disappearing in the wash. But now? Now you have random cosmic hellmouths opening up and vomiting out monsters that think humans are snack-sized protein bars.

They call them Gates. They pop up out of nowhere like your intrusive thoughts at 3 AM, and if no one deals with them, entire cities get turned into discount horror movie scenes.

The only reason people aren't living in a monster apocalypse is because of Espers—overpowered individuals who fight these creatures with sheer force, wild abilities, and a complete disregard for their own safety.

But there’s a tiny problem. Espers have the durability of a wet paper bag. They burn through their energy, go berserk, or outright implode if left alone for too long.

And that’s where Guides come in. Guides stabilize Espers, keep them from disintegrating mid-fight, and prevent them from making headlines as "Local Hero Explodes on Live TV."

And you? Congratulations! You are an SS-Class Guide, one of the absolute best. This should mean power, prestige, and maybe even free drinks. Instead, it means you are a walking, talking, highly sought-after life support machine, and every Esper on the planet wants a piece of you.

And not in a fun way.

You’ve spent your entire career dodging unhinged, desperate, overpowered individuals who think "force-bonding" is a reasonable dating strategy.

Some try to flirt their way into your schedule (bad idea). Some try to bribe you with things like gold, private yachts, and one guy who straight-up offered you a castle. And then there are the truly feral ones, who don’t understand the word “no” and think "What if I just grabbed them?" is a valid problem-solving technique.

One time, an S-Class Esper sent you 72 marriage proposals in a single day. Another time, a different one broke into your apartment and left a PowerPoint presentation on why you should bond with them. With transitions.

If you had a nickel for every time you had to physically dodge an Esper trying to latch onto you like a clingy octopus, you wouldn’t need this job anymore. You could retire to a nice, peaceful life in the mountains, away from all of this nonsense.

But no. You’re still here. Still dodging Espers who treat you like a Black Friday deal at 90% off.

Something has to change.

It’s another day at work. Another day of wading through a swamp of increasingly deranged requests for guiding, because apparently, every high-ranking Esper on the planet thinks you’re the Holy Grail of Stability™.

You take a deep breath, open your inbox, and immediately regret your life choices.

Request #1:

"O Supreme and Benevolent Guide, I have compiled a PowerPoint titled ‘Why You Should Guide Me and Not Those Other Losers.’ Please see attached. I am very persuasive. Also, I have snacks. Just saying."

Attached: A 657-slide PowerPoint presentation with bullet points like “I Only Go Almost Berserk Like Every Other Tuesday” and “Look At This Dog I Found, Do You Like Him?”

Request #2:

"Greatest and Most Esteemed Guide, I humbly request your guidance. I will literally pay you in gold. Actual, real gold. Or cash. Or—listen, name your price. My mental stability is at stake here. I am ONE bad day away from levitating into the stratosphere and exploding like a firework. PLEASE. I am BEGGING you. Sincerely, your most devoted, desperate, and slightly deranged fan."

Attached: A poorly photoshopped picture of you both standing in front of a sunset. You’ve never met this person in your life.

Request #3:

"GOD-TIER GUIDE, PLEASE, I WILL DO ANYTHING. I WILL FETCH YOUR GROCERIES. I WILL WALK YOUR PET. YOU DON’T HAVE A PET? I WILL GET YOU A PET. I WILL BECOME YOUR PET. PLEASE, FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY, JUST GIVE ME 10 MINUTES OF YOUR TIME. MY LAST GUIDE QUIT ON ME AND MOVED TO AN UNDISCLOSED LOCATION. I AM VERY STABLE. PLEASE."

Attached: A video of the sender crushing a monster’s skull with their bare hands while sobbing.

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

This is your life now.

And then—you see it.

A request.

A normal request.

No groveling. No bribery. No half-deranged monologue about why their existence is crumbling without you.

Just a plain, simple request for a guiding session. No attachments. No drama.

You do not even look at the name or the rank.

You just slam the approve button so hard your screen nearly cracks.

And you schedule them for today.

Whatever poor, normal, well-adjusted Esper just sent that request? You’re about to meet your new favorite person.

You hear a knock on your office door and, without looking up from your third coffee of the afternoon, you say, "Come in." You assume it's just another esper with an unhinged request or a government official trying to bribe you into a permanent bond arrangement (as if free coffee is enough to make up for dealing with an unstable murder machine forever).

But when you finally glance up, you’re met with Malleus fucking Draconia.

SSS-class esper. Only because the measuring device physically cannot display values above SSS. If it could, it would probably just scream in binary before shutting itself down out of fear.

And Malleus, the walking cataclysm, smiles at you. A polite, almost sweet smile that absolutely does not match the soul-crushing amount of raw, unstable power radiating off of him.

He thanks you, so genuinely, for agreeing to guide him, and suddenly, you feel like maybe—just maybe—the guy who sent you a PowerPoint presentation about why he’d be the perfect esper for you would’ve been a safer choice. Because in what world were you qualified to guide Malleus Draconia?

But you’re a professional. A highly trained SS-class Guide. You’ve dealt with terrifying espers before. (You survived guiding Leona Kingscholar, and that man once threatened to bite someone’s hand off for waking him up.) So you take a deep breath, paste on a practiced, reassuring smile, and gesture toward the couch. “Please, take a seat.”

Malleus does, settling in like a well-mannered prince, and when you take his hands, his power hits you like a truck.

No, scratch that. A truck would be merciful. This is like getting yeeted into the sun.

Because for all his outward composure, for all his eerie, elegant calm, his body is ripping itself apart from the sheer force of his own abilities. His energy is so volatile, so uncontained, that even just touching him feels like holding onto a live wire dipped in liquid magic.

You open your mouth, fully prepared to yell WHAT THE HELL, but instead, what comes out is a weak, strangled, “So… how long has it been since your last guiding?”

Malleus blinks, tilting his head slightly, as if the question is odd. “Ah,” he hums. “A rather long time, I suppose.”

You squint at him. "Define 'long.'"

There’s a pause. And then, with the same pleasant smile, he says, “Over a decade.”

…

…A decade.

You stare at him. Your soul leaves your body. Your hands are on him right now, guiding him, and no other guide has touched him for ten whole years??? You’ve guided espers who've almost lost their minds after three months without stabilization, and this man—no, this monster, this eldritch entity in the shape of a handsome Esper—has been raw-dogging reality for a full decade???

And the worst part is, you get it.

You’ve heard the stories. No guide is willing to risk their life guiding him. He’s too powerful, too unstable, too dangerous. But also??? He’s the reason those cowardly soy-latte-drinking guides even get to enjoy their caramel cream monstrosities without getting eaten by a Gate Beast. The least they could do is try.

So you do.

You take all that power, all that impossible, barely-contained force, and you stabilize it. As much as you can, at least, because Malleus is like an ocean, vast and endless, and you are one person desperately trying to keep the tide from sweeping away an entire city. But you manage. And when the strain starts to weigh on you, when exhaustion creeps in, Malleus—ever the gentleman—gently removes his hands from yours before you overextend yourself.

He looks at you like you’ve done something extraordinary. And in that soft, almost reverent voice, he murmurs, “Thank you.”

And when he asks if you’d accept his request again, how could you possibly say no?

You’ve seen Gates before. Too many, in fact. You’ve spent years standing at the edges of battlefields, waiting for Espers to stumble out after pushing themselves to their limits, ready to catch them before they crumbled into a pile of unstable, overpowered problems.

Usually, you’re waiting outside, stationed alongside other Guides, ready to stabilize the Espers who come stumbling out looking like they just did twelve rounds in a blender.

And today? No different.

The Gate suppressors finish their job, and as the shimmering tear in reality finally vanishes, a wave of exhausted Espers begins to stagger out.

Your fellow Guides immediately spring into action, swarming their assigned Espers like the world’s most exhausted yet underpaid nurses. You hear the usual litany of groaning, the occasional complaint about “why does guiding feel like drinking a warm glass of sadness,” and at least one voice yelling, “DON’T THROW UP ON ME, BRO.”

All in all, a standard post-Gate event.

But then—then.

Malleus Draconia walks out.

And the reaction is palpable.

Every Guide freezes. The air itself seems to shift, a held breath, a quiet hesitation, a collective someone else handle it.

Which, yeah. Fair. SSS-class esper. Walking apocalypse. If the world were a video game, he’d be the final boss, the secret bonus boss, and the eldritch horror you accidentally summon if you input the wrong cheat code.

But unlike every other high-class Esper, who would immediately demand a Guide’s attention like a toddler throwing a tantrum in a supermarket, Malleus just… looks around. Sees the other Espers getting help. And without a word, he simply starts walking away.

And something in you breaks.

It’s not just that your fellow Guides are scared of him. It’s the fact that he expects it. That he doesn’t even try. He just accepts that no one will come for him, and he leaves.

It’s one thing for a terrifying Esper to demand your attention, to expect you to fix them as if you’re a mechanic and they’re a car with the check engine light permanently on. But this? This quiet resignation? This acceptance of the fact that no one will help him?

Oh, absolutely not.

You push past the usual crowd of unstable, desperate, feral Espers who are trying to grab at your hands (“PLEASE, I WILL PAY YOU IN GOLD—OR FAVORS—WHICHEVER YOU PREFER”), and you march after him.

“Malleus,” you say, grabbing his arm before he can vanish into the night like a dramatic antihero.

He turns, blinking down at you in quiet surprise. “You’re here.”

“Of course I’m here,” you say, like he just told you the sky is blue. “I’m a Guide. This is my job.”

His expression flickers, the barest crack in his usual calm. “You would guide me?”

“Yes,” you say. “Now sit down.”

He actually listens. Thank the stars. You’re not sure what you would’ve done if he refused. Probably wrestled him to the ground, which would have been a terrible life choice, but whatever.

You sit across from him, take his hands, and—oh.

Oh.

Oh wow.

It's as bad, if not slightly better than the first time.

If guiding most Espers is like sifting through a river, guiding Malleus Draconia is like being pulled into the center of a supermassive black hole. It’s overwhelming, his power a heavy, crushing thing that hums under his skin like an unrelenting storm, pressing at the edges of your mind.

“How long has it been since your last session?” you ask, voice a little strained as you work to stabilize him.

Malleus tilts his head, thoughtful. “My last session was with you.”

Your grip tightens around his hands. “It's been 5 months.”

He hums. “No other Guide has been willing to take me on.”

That—that makes you want to throw something. Because sure, Malleus is terrifying. Sure, he’s a walking natural disaster. But he’s also the reason those Guides get to breathe.

You exhale sharply. “Well. That’s stupid.”

Malleus blinks. “Stupid?”

“Yes. Stupid.” You focus, pouring everything you have into stabilizing him, because you might not be able to guide him fully, but you sure as hell can make things better.

Malleus says nothing. He just… watches you.

And when you’re finally done—when you pull back, exhausted but satisfied—he tilts his head, voice soft.

“Allow me to escort you to your car.”

There’s a weight to the way he says it. A quiet intent.

You glance at the still-lingering crowd of Espers who have been waiting for their chance to pounce, and—ah.

That’s why.

Because Malleus walking with you means no one is about to harass you for an impromptu guiding session.

You glance back at him.

Malleus Draconia. The most powerful Esper alive. Unstable. Dangerous. Literally a walking storm.

“…Okay,” you say.

He walks you to your car, a steady presence at your side, and for the first time in years, you are not approached, begged, or proposed to on the way.

It’s peaceful.

Nice, even.

And as you slide into the driver’s seat, Malleus thanks you again, voice warm, quiet.

And impulsively—because your brain has fully given up on thinking before speaking—you blurt out, “Repay me by taking me out for coffee.”

There’s a pause.

A long one.

And then—Malleus smiles.

Not his usual polite, diplomatic smile. A real one.

And you realize, with sudden clarity, that you may have just changed the course of your entire life.

The next day, you step out of the Guidance Center, utterly exhausted.

You’ve spent all morning dealing with overworked Espers who don’t believe they need guiding until they start twitching like a broken lightbulb. One guy genuinely tried to convince you that he was “built different” and then proceeded to collapse mid-sentence.

So yeah. You’re tired. You just want to go home, take a nap, and not think about the absolute disaster that is your job.

And then you see him.

Malleus.

Waiting just outside the building, standing with the kind of stillness that makes him look more like a painting than a person.

But it’s not just him.

It’s the flowers.

A full bouquet, wrapped neatly, cradled in his hands like something precious.

And when he sees you, he smiles.

Your brain immediately blue-screens.

You walk up to him in a daze, already bracing yourself for the inevitable attention this is going to bring because, let’s be honest—Malleus Draconia standing outside your workplace holding flowers is about to start rumors.

(And by rumors, you mean your coworkers are never going to let you live this down.)

But when you reach him, he doesn’t do anything dramatic. Doesn’t say anything insane like “these flowers pale in comparison to your radiance” or “I will obliterate anyone who disrespects you.”

(You have, unfortunately, received both of those lines from unstable Espers before.)

Instead, he simply hands you the bouquet, his voice warm. “For you.”

And just like yesterday, you realize—this is different.

It’s not some desperate attempt to tie you to him, not an unstable Esper trying to own their Guide before anyone else can get to them.

He’s just… appreciative.

Grateful.

Your heart does something very annoying and fluttery at that realization.

You glance at the bouquet, then back up at him, and—oh.

He looks so pleased.

Like giving you flowers is the highlight of his week.

“…Are you free for that coffee now?” he asks, tilting his head slightly, expectant but unassuming.

And despite your exhaustion—despite knowing that this is probably the beginning of something huge and irreversible—you find yourself smiling.

“…Yeah,” you say, holding the flowers a little closer. “Yeah, I am.”

So far, this coffee date has been perfect.

You’re sitting across from Malleus, ranting about the absolute clowns you have to deal with daily.

“…And then this Esper looked me in the eyes and said, I will literally perish if you do not guide me this instant. Like. Sir.” You slap a hand on the table. “Sir. Please. This is a Starbucks.”

Malleus chuckles, eyes alight with amusement. “And what did you say to that?”

You sigh dramatically, tilting your head back. “I said, ‘Sounds fake, but okay.’”

He actually laughs at that—low and warm, and oh no, it’s really nice.

Before you can spiral about that, your drinks are ready. Malleus, being the gentleman he is, gets up to retrieve them.

And that’s when you feel it.

That unmistakable feeling of being watched.

Your instincts immediately go on high alert. Slowly, casually, you glance at the table next to you, expecting to see some shady esper trying to worm their way into your life.

What you actually see is so much better.

Sitting at the table next to you are three of the most suspicious individuals you have ever seen in your entire life.

The first one is a tiny man drowning in a trench coat three sizes too big, like a detective in a noir film gone wrong. He has an obviously fake mustache that is slightly peeling off his face, and he is watching you intensely.

Next to him, there is a guy wearing a tragically ugly pink wig.

He is asleep on the table.

Just. Fully unconscious. Like someone just unplugged him.

And finally—

A tall guy in fake glasses with an even faker nose, aggressively shoveling cake into his mouth while glaring at you like you just stole his firstborn child.

It’s silent.

You blink.

They blink.

And you immediately have to slap a hand over your mouth to keep from bursting out laughing.

Malleus returns, setting your drink in front of you, and you immediately point at the disaster trio sitting next to you.

“…Do you know them?” you ask, barely holding it together.

Malleus follows your gaze.

Sees the absolute circus happening at the next table.

And sighs.

A long, suffering sigh. The sigh of a man who has seen some things and has just realized he is doomed to see them for the rest of his life.

“Yes,” he says, like the words physically pain him. “Unfortunately.”

And that’s all you need to hear.

You immediately wave them over.

Because honestly?

Why not.

They look hilarious.

And you were right—Lilia (who introduces himself with a flourish and an actual theatrical bow) is an absolute riot. Silver, despite the crime against fashion sitting on his head, is actually very nice. And Sebek—who is still burning holes into you with his eyes—is begrudgingly polite, only because you’ve been guiding Malleus.

It turns into a full-blown sitcom.

At one point, Lilia pulls out a picture of an egg and tries to convince you that it's a baby picture of Malleus. You're not sure if he was serious. Sebek is still glaring at you, but it’s now 30% hostility, 70% begrudging respect. Silver almost faceplants into his drink.

Malleus, across from you, looks like he’s actively questioning all of his life choices.

It’s beautiful.

Eventually, when it’s time to leave, Malleus insists on walking you to your car.

And that’s when you notice it.

He’s pouting.

Not a dramatic pout. But his lips are slightly pressed together, his brows furrowed, like a cat that just got denied a seat on the kitchen counter.

You immediately find it endearing.

“What’s up?” you ask, amused.

Malleus exhales, glancing away. “…I was hoping for this to be a time where we could get to know each other.”

Oh.

Oh, that’s adorable.

You grin.

And before you can second-guess yourself, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek.

Malleus freezes.

His eyes go wide. His breath catches. He looks like you’ve just blue-screened his brain.

You step back, grinning. “I'll see you around.”

And before he can respond, you slip into your car.

But as you drive away, you catch a glimpse of him in your mirror—

Standing there, hand pressed to his cheek, smiling like you just gave him the greatest gift in the world.

You hate Gates.

You hate that they can just open whenever they want, completely ignoring normal human schedules like some kind of otherworldly chaos entities (which, to be fair, they are).

But mostly, you hate that they always seem to open in the middle of the night.

Like, is there some kind of Gate Union that collectively decided on this? Do they hold meetings where they specifically vote to screw over guides by opening at the most inconvenient times?

And in the dead of winter, no less.

Truly, suffering knows no bounds.

Still, you drag yourself out of bed, slap on as many layers as physically possible (to the point where you briefly resemble a sentient pile of laundry), and head to the Gate’s location. On the way, you stop by an all-night café, because if you’re going to be miserable, you might as well be miserable with hot chocolate.

You even get two cups.

Not because you always do this for espers (you don’t—they can suffer like the rest of you), but because he is different.

Malleus.

The most powerful esper on the field tonight. The one who singlehandedly keeps half the Gates from turning into full-scale disasters. The one who always acts like he’s completely fine no matter what comes out of them.

And, most importantly—

The one esper you have a ridiculous, stupid, undeniably massive soft spot for.

So, you wait.

And wait.

And wait.

You’re perched on a bench, holding your hot chocolates, trying not to think about how this is starting to feel like some kind of romantic drama scene, when you finally see him step out of the swirling remnants of the Gate.

Even exhausted, he still looks ridiculously elegant. His coat is dusted with frost, his dark horns curved like the wings of a dragon at rest. His presence—so big, so vast—immediately settles over the field, even as other espers struggle to regain their balance.

His expression is neutral, as always. Composed. Untouchable.

Until—

He spots you.

He blinks, as if surprised to see you.

And his face softens.

He doesn’t react right away, like he’s making sure he’s seeing correctly. But then, when it clicks, his lips part just slightly—an unspoken question, a faintly surprised blink—before they curve into the warmest, most gentle smile.

And wow. Wow.

Maybe the cold is getting to you, because you suddenly feel a little too warm.

You lift a hand and wave.

Malleus immediately starts walking toward you, his movements slow but steady. His eyes stay locked on yours, like he’s drawn to you without realizing it.

“You’re here,” he says, voice carrying that soft rumble that’s way too nice to listen to at this ungodly hour.

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, well, Gates don’t believe in work-life balance, apparently.” You hold up the second cup of hot chocolate. “Here. Thought you could use something warm.”

“For me?” he asks, sounding so genuinely touched that your heart does something stupid.

“No, for the other giant dragon esper who just walked out of that Gate,” you deadpan.

Malleus huffs out a soft laugh, the kind that makes you think he doesn’t do it nearly enough. He takes the cup from your hands, fingers brushing against yours, and you don’t miss the way he lingers there for just a second too long.

“You should let me guide you,” you say, reaching for his free hand.

Malleus makes a vague sound of protest. “That isn’t necessary.”

You stare at him.

He stares back.

And then, before he can argue further, you unleash your most powerful technique.

“Please?”

Malleus Draconia—the Apex Esper, the one who holds dominion over storms and shadows, the one who can level an entire battlefield with one command—

Folds like a house of cards.

“…Very well,” he murmurs, looking a little defeated, a little amused.

You beam and take his hand, immediately pressing your energy into his.

And wow, yeah, he definitely needed this.

His presence, which is usually so steady, flickers faintly at the edges. He must have been holding himself together through sheer force of will, because the second you start guiding him, his shoulders finally relax.

Not that he’d ever admit it, of course.

You feel his weight lean into you ever so slightly, just enough that you know he’s letting you support him. His energy curls around yours, vast and dark but gentle, like the hush of a midnight storm.

For a while, neither of you speak.

The night is quiet, save for the distant sounds of other guides working, of espers coming down from battle-highs.

You steal a glance at Malleus. His eyes are half-lidded, his breath even, his fingers curled loosely around yours.

“…You do this often?” he asks suddenly.

“What, guide tired espers?” you shrug. “Yeah. Someone’s gotta be here to catch them before they crash.”

Malleus hums, a thoughtful sound.

“…No,” he says. “I meant… this.”

You blink. “This?”

“Wait for me.”

Oh.

Oh.

Your grip tightens slightly, a flicker of warmth creeping up your neck.

“I—” You hesitate, then exhale through your nose. “No. Not really.”

Malleus watches you closely. You can feel his gaze on you even as you pointedly avoid meeting it.

“…Then why?” he asks, and his voice is so quiet, so genuine, that you feel yourself falter.

You take a deep breath.

And then, before you can overthink it, you grin.

“Well, you always push yourself too hard,” you say, squeezing his hand once for emphasis. “Someone’s gotta make sure you don’t keel over from exhaustion.”

Malleus huffs, clearly amused. “I assure you, I would not—”

“Uh-huh. Sure.”

He laughs, quiet but real, and your heart skips a very concerning beat.

“…You are quite peculiar,” he muses, gazing at you like you’re some kind of strange, fascinating mystery.

“Yeah, yeah, I get that a lot,” you say, waving a hand. “Now, if you really wanna thank me, take me out for coffee again later.”

Malleus pauses.

You watch, in real-time, as your words settle.

And then—

Slowly, slowly, he smiles.

“…I would like that,” he says, his voice quiet, but so very certain.

And suddenly, the cold doesn’t feel quite so biting anymore.

It was late. Too late. So late that if anyone dared to bother you right now, you would simply keel over and die on the spot out of sheer spite. You had finished your work, logged everything, and were seconds away from clocking out and going home to live as a blanket cryptid when someone grabbed your wrist.

That was already mistake number one.

You turned around, tired and mildly homicidal, to see one of your fellow high-ranking guides standing there. You recognized them—someone competent, someone respected, someone you had never spoken to outside of required work matters.

And yet, here they were, gripping your wrist like you were about to reveal the secrets of the universe to them.

"You got a second?" they asked, eyes shining with something too intense for this ungodly hour.

No. You did not have a second. You barely had the energy to stand upright, let alone entertain whatever nonsense this was about to be. But before you could tell them that, they were already pulling you off to the side, lowering their voice like they were about to ask you for classified information.

"How’d you do it?"

Your brain, already running on fumes, barely processed the question. "Do what?"

"Don't play dumb," they said, looking equal parts exasperated and impressed. "How'd you bewitch Malleus Draconia?"

Your mind, previously sluggish and exhausted, full stopped.

The sheer audacity of the question short-circuited your ability to respond. You just blinked at them, waiting for them to explain whatever the fuck they were talking about.

They misinterpreted your silence as playing coy because they leaned in conspiratorially and hissed, "Don't gatekeep. We want a bite too."

It was at that moment you considered committing actual murder.

"I'm sorry. A bite?" you echoed, voice dangerously calm.

"You got Malleus Draconia—Malleus Draconia—to let you guide him, regularly," they stressed, looking half in awe and half like they wanted to shake you for answers. "No one else has ever gotten close enough to work with him like that. If we knew he was harmless, we would’ve stepped in ages ago. But we weren’t going to take the risk."

You could physically feel something in your brain snap.

So that was it. That was why. It wasn’t that they hadn’t had the opportunity to guide him—it was that they had actively chosen not to. They had taken one look at Malleus, decided it wasn’t worth the effort to risk handling someone as powerful as him, and just left him alone.

And now, because you had proven he wasn’t some terrifying force of destruction, they suddenly wanted in? They suddenly thought they deserved him?

Like he was some exclusive club they wanted membership to?

Your hand twitched. You ripped yourself free from their grip, scowling. "Screw this."

Their eyes widened slightly, clearly not expecting that reaction. "Wait—"

But you were already storming off, anger burning through your exhaustion. You didn’t even realize where you were going until you stepped outside—

And saw Malleus standing there.

Waiting.

For you.

His sharp eyes flickered with concern the second they landed on your face.

"Are you alright?"

Your rage didn't cool, but it twisted into something tighter, something that made your throat close up for an entirely different reason.

You didn’t answer. Instead, you reached out, grabbed his hand, and started dragging him down the street.

Malleus didn’t resist. He simply followed, letting you pull him along like this was perfectly normal behavior.

The café door chimed as you shoved it open with more force than necessary, still stewing over the conversation from earlier. Malleus, utterly unbothered, stepped around you to order both of your usual drinks without hesitation.

The fact that he had memorized your order without ever asking, without making a big deal of it, without using it as some kind of flex, made something in your chest ache.

You sat down at the table, staring blankly at the surface as you tried to untangle your emotions.

Why were you this angry?

Was it because they had ignored him? Because they treated him like some kind of trophy instead of a person? Because they had assumed the worst of him and only changed their minds when it was convenient?

Yes. Absolutely.

But then—why did you also feel like crying?

Your fingers curled into fists on the table.

And that’s when it hit you.

Oh. Oh, fuck.

You liked him.

Like like liked him.

Like the kind of like that made you want to scream into your hands and never recover. The kind of like that made you want to turn back time and stop this from happening before it was too late. The kind of like that meant your life was now ruined beyond repair.

Your whole body tensed, brain going into full meltdown mode.

And then—just to make everything infinitely worse—

A cup slid into view.

You looked up, and there he was.

Malleus.

Standing in front of you, holding out your drink.

His eyes were gentle, studying you carefully, like he could see every single thought racing through your head. "Are you alright?" he asked again, voice quiet, sincere.

And in that moment, you realized you had two options:

• Stay here, drink your drink like a normal person, and accept the horrifying truth of your newfound feelings.

• Launch yourself out of the nearest window and never be seen again.

Option two was looking real tempting right now.

Another night, another gate opening at the worst possible time.

You were so tired. Bone-deep, soul-weary, existentially exhausted. The universe seemed determined to ensure that you never got a full night’s sleep, and you were starting to take it personally.

Still, you were here, bundled up against the cold, sipping a hot drink as you waited for Malleus.

The gate was a high-level one tonight. You knew it had to have been difficult—he was strong, but no one walked out of those things completely unscathed. So you were already standing up, ready to meet him halfway, when—

That guide.

The one who had all but interrogated you last time.

They stepped in before you could move, approaching Malleus with their best professional smile, like they hadn’t spent years pretending he didn’t exist.

"Do you need guidance?" they asked smoothly, their voice dripping with the absolute audacity.

Malleus blinked at them, clearly surprised. Because why wouldn’t he be? No one else but you had ever offered before.

And your chest burned.

Of course he’d pick them.

They were higher-ranked than you. More experienced. More respected. Malleus, despite everything, was still an outsider to most of the guide network, and it would make perfect sense to accept help from someone with more prestige.

You braced yourself, swallowing the bitter feeling threatening to rise—

But then—

He looked past them.

His eyes landed on you.

And then he smiled.

"I must decline," he said simply, voice polite but final.

And then—much to their visible horror—he walked right past them and straight to you.

The sheer triumph that surged through you was immeasurable.

You barely stopped yourself from cackling, but as you took his hand, guiding him like always, the urge to turn back and stick your tongue out at that seething guide was so strong.

Malleus, oblivious to your inner gloating, watched you with a softness that made your heart ache.

And then, suddenly, it all just—

Hit you.

The sheer depth of your feelings, the way your chest tightened at the sight of him, the way everything in you just settled when he was near—

You broke.

You grabbed him, yanking him forward, and before he could even react—

You kissed him.

Malleus let out a surprised sound against your lips, but after only a second of hesitation—

He kissed you back.

It was warm, steady, and when you finally pulled away, he was glowing, his expression soft in a way that made your breath catch.

"I like you, Malleus," you confessed, your voice quieter than you expected.

And his smile—

It was like you had given him the world.

He cupped your face so gently, kissed your forehead like he was sealing the moment into reality.

"I have feelings for you too," he murmured.

You melted.

You leaned against his chest, warmth seeping into you despite the cold night air.

And as his arms wrapped around you, as you felt the steady rhythm of his heartbeat, you couldn’t help but be so glad you had accepted his guidance request all that time ago.

(And okay, maybe you were also smug as hell about it. Because when you glanced back at that other guide—

They looked ready to throw hands.)

You had been waiting.

Patiently. Lovingly. For months.

Malleus loved you. You loved him. You were in a relationship, you slept in the same bed, you guided him, he refused to let anyone else even offer—so what the hell was taking him so long?

Why wouldn’t he just ask?

It was infuriating. It was agonizing. It was the most painfully obvious conclusion to your relationship, and yet—

Malleus refused to bond with you.

And frankly? You were at your limit.

So tonight, as you lay wrapped around each other in bed, his arms comfortably encircling your waist, you finally decided to just ask him.

"Malleus," you said, looking up at him, voice soft but firm. "Why haven’t you asked me to bond yet?"

He stiffened. Just slightly. His fingers twitched where they rested on your back.

And then—

He gave you that look. The sad, gentle smile. The one that made your heart clench because it meant he was about to say something infuriatingly self-sacrificial.

"If you ever regret me," he murmured, "you won’t be able to guide anyone else." His thumb traced circles on your back, soothing even as his words infuriated you. "I don’t want that for you."

You froze.

You stared at him.

And in that moment, you were torn between laughing at his stupidity or crying because how could someone so powerful be so utterly dumb?

So you did neither.

Instead—

You kissed him.

You kissed him until he was breathless, until his arms tightened around you, until his body melted into yours and he let out the softest, neediest little sound against your lips.

When you pulled away, his pupils were blown wide, his expression dazed, and you felt the way his heartbeat had turned erratic beneath your palm.

"You," you whispered, pressing your forehead to his, "are the only thing I've ever been sure of in my life."

Malleus let out a shaky breath.

And then you kissed him again.

You pressed him into the bed, slotting yourself against him, feeling his hands grasp at you like he was afraid you might disappear.

But you wouldn’t.

Because you were here. You chose him.

And that night, you finally bonded—just as you always should have.

Malleus had always been powerful. From the moment he was born, strength had been woven into his very being.

His draconic lineage alone made him stronger than most, but when his Esper abilities awakened, it had set him apart even further. Too far apart.

The strongest being in the world.

And because of that, people had feared him.

It had been that way for as long as he could remember. Even other Espers, who should have understood, kept their distance. Some whispered about him behind closed doors, about how a being as powerful as him didn't need guidance in the first place.

It had been Lilia who had guided him for most of his life, a steady presence who never flinched, never wavered, never treated him as if he were something to be afraid of. But when Lilia lost his guiding abilities, that stability was suddenly gone, leaving Malleus untethered.

For years, he had gone without. And then, one day, he heard about you.

You were a Guide who accepted nearly every request. You had guided Espers with overwhelming abilities, those who were labeled as difficult or too much to handle. You had never turned anyone away. And so, despite knowing the likelihood of rejection, Malleus sent a request.

He had expected nothing to come of it. But instead, he got you.

You had seemed nervous when you first met him, but it wasn’t the type of nervousness he was used to. There was no fear in your eyes, only cautious curiosity—an instinctive wariness, perhaps, but not rejection. And despite whatever initial hesitation you had, your hand had reached for his without trembling. You had guided him.

For the first time in over a decade, Malleus had felt light.

And then, the first time you guided him outside a Gate—

That had been a key moment in his life.

He had stepped out, battle-worn, expecting emptiness. And instead—you had waved at him.

You had smiled at him.

He had thought, at first, that perhaps you had simply been assigned to check on him. That maybe it was some unspoken duty, a requirement of your role. But then, as if that warmth weren’t enough, you had asked him to coffee.

He had expected a quiet outing, a moment to rest and speak with you in a more peaceful setting. Instead, Lilia, Sebek, and Silver had shown up, disguises both laughable and obvious, as if the flimsy mustaches and oversized trench coats could fool anyone. He had braced himself for your irritation, for exasperation or a resigned sigh.

But instead—you had laughed.

And then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, you had welcomed them to join you.

That had been the moment he first thought, perhaps, he liked you.

The first time you had brought him hot chocolate would forever be etched into Malleus’ memory.

It had been a bitterly cold night, the kind where the air cut through even the thickest of coats, where breath curled in the air like mist, and the sky was so crisp and clear that it felt endless.

The battle had left him drained, his energy worn thin in a way he had long since grown accustomed to. He hadn’t expected you to be there. There had been no reason for you to wait for him—you could have guided someone else, finished your duties quickly, and gone home to rest.

But instead, there you were.

Sitting on a bench, bundled in layers, your arms crossed to hold in whatever warmth you could, with two cups of hot chocolate in your hands. You had waved at him like it was the most normal thing in the world, like of course you were waiting for him. Like of course you had brought him something warm to drink.

He had been so startled by the sight that for a moment, he simply stood there, staring, trying to commit every detail to memory. The way the streetlights cast a soft glow against your skin, the way your breath curled in the cold, the way your fingers tapped against the side of the cup as you held it out to him.

He had taken it without a word, still dazed, still trying to process why you had done this. And then, as if you hadn’t just shaken the very foundation of his existence, you had grinned and asked him to take you out for coffee again.

Malleus had never known such warmth, even in the frigid winter.

Then there was the day he had waited for you.

He had been standing outside the guidance center, patiently waiting for you to finish your duties. It had been something of a habit by then—he always waited for you when he could, just as you waited for him. He enjoyed the way your eyes lit up when you spotted him, the way you always greeted him like you had been expecting to see him there.

But that day, when you finally stepped outside, there was no warm smile, no familiar greeting. Instead, you stormed out, eyes blazing, frustration radiating off you in waves. Malleus had barely opened his mouth to ask what was wrong before you grabbed his wrist and started dragging him down the street.

He followed without hesitation, allowing you to pull him along, his mind still catching up to what was happening. You had led him straight to your usual café, barely stopping to take a breath as you shoved the door open and beelined for your favorite spot. Malleus sat across from you, watching with quiet curiosity as you fumed, hands clenched around your menu, your foot tapping aggressively against the floor.

And then, as the tension in your shoulders refused to ease, as you let out a frustrated huff and glared at your drink like it had personally offended you, you had finally told him what had made you so upset.

They had questioned you. They had asked how you had bewitched him, of all people. Like he was some trophy, some untouchable relic that no one had dared lay claim to until you had somehow managed to crack the code. They had assumed that if he were harmless enough to guide, then they would have taken him for themselves. They had spoken about him like he was something to be owned.

Malleus had expected you to be upset. What he hadn’t expected was for you to be so furious on his behalf.

And he shouldn’t have liked it—shouldn’t have felt anything beyond quiet gratitude for your defense of him. But there was something ugly in his chest, something selfish and dark that thrived off the way your anger was so fiercely his.

For so long, people had feared him, had rejected him, had kept him at a distance out of self-preservation. And yet, here you were, not just standing by his side, but fighting for him, defending him, choosing him.

And he wanted that.

He wanted the way you almost stormed into battle for him. He wanted the way your voice shook with anger because you cared about how he was treated. He wanted the way you grabbed his wrist without hesitation, the way you dragged him to this café because he was the person you sought out in your frustration.

He wanted you.

And as you finally sighed, your anger fading just enough for you to take a sip of your drink, Malleus came to a quiet realization.

He had liked you before. But now?

Now, he was falling.

Malleus had never expected to be offered guidance by anyone else.

It had never once crossed his mind as a possibility—he had long since grown used to being avoided, used to the way others hesitated to even meet his eyes, let alone reach out to him. The moment he stepped out of the Gate, still feeling the lingering exhaustion of battle, he had been prepared to find you, as he always did.

And yet, instead of you, there was someone else.

A guide—one he recognized, one who had been among those who had always turned away from him before. And now, suddenly, they were standing before him, offering their assistance as if it were something he needed, as if he should be grateful.

Malleus didn’t even consider it.

How could he? How could anyone else fill the space that was meant for you? How could he even entertain the thought of accepting someone else’s hand when your hand was the only one he ever wanted to hold?

So he simply stepped past them, not bothering to spare them a second glance, not wasting a single breath on an answer. Because they were irrelevant.

Because you were there.

And the moment he spotted you, standing just a few steps away with that bright, warm expression that was meant only for him, he felt something in his chest ease. Like everything had shifted back into place, like the air had cleared, like he was where he was supposed to be.

And when you laughed, really laughed, like this was all some great joke only the two of you were in on, he thought it might be his favorite sound in the world.

And then you took his hand, and the moment your fingers intertwined with his, he knew with absolute certainty—there was no one else for him. There never could be.

And then you kissed him.

For all his years, for all his strength, for all his wisdom, Malleus Draconia had never once been prepared for this.

You had grabbed him, pulled him in, and pressed your lips to his, and Malleus had let out an embarrassingly surprised sound before his instincts took over, before his hands found their way to your waist, before he was kissing you back like he had been waiting for this moment for centuries.

And maybe he had been.

Because when you pulled back, just far enough to whisper, “I like you, Malleus,” he felt like the world had stopped spinning, like time itself had come to a halt just to give him this moment, just to let him have this.

And when he smiled, it was because it felt like you had just handed him the world.

So he kissed your forehead, let his lips linger against your skin, and whispered against you, “I have feelings for you too.”

And when you leaned against him, when you let yourself rest against his chest, Malleus felt something settle in his soul.

He was home.

Then you asked him to bond.

And Malleus hesitated.

Not because he didn’t love you—he did. He had never loved anything the way he loved you.

But because he was afraid.

Because bonding with him meant forever. It meant you would be tied to him, it meant you would never be able to guide anyone else, it meant that if one day you woke up and realized you regretted him—realized you wanted something else, something more, something that wasn’t him—then you would be trapped.

And he could not, would not, allow that to happen to you.

So he had told you no. Not because he didn’t want you, not because he didn’t ache for you in ways he could never put into words, but because he would die before he let you shackle yourself to him forever.

And then you had kissed him.

Hard.

You had pressed him into the bed, breathless and unyielding, your lips against his like you were trying to prove something.

And maybe you were.

Because when you finally pulled back, when your fingers threaded through his hair and your forehead rested against his, you whispered, “You’re the best decision I’ve ever made.”

And Malleus—Malleus, who had spent his entire life waiting to be chosen, waiting to be wanted—felt his walls crumble.

So he let himself believe you.

He let himself hope.

And when he kissed you again, when he let his hands roam over your skin and let himself take you, it wasn’t just an acceptance of your love.

It was a promise.

A promise that no matter what, no matter where life took you, no matter how much time passed—he would always be yours.

And as the bond settled between you, as he felt the pull of your soul entwining with his, Malleus let himself hope for more.

He hoped you would be with him forever.

You woke up feeling warm.

Not just from the blankets wrapped around you, or the way the room was still dim from the early morning light, but from the way Malleus was wrapped around you.

His arms held you firm but gentle, his breath soft against your forehead, his body curled protectively around yours. It was comfort in its purest form.

You smiled, still basking in the afterglow of your bond, and tilted your head up to kiss him.

Malleus stirred, letting out a sleepy hum as his lips curved into a small, contented smile against yours. His eyes fluttered open, still hazy with sleep, and you both just… looked at each other.

The love in his gaze was overwhelming.

So, naturally, you asked the most important question of your life.

"Was the egg picture that Lilia showed me actually you?"

Malleus blinked.

Then blinked again.

And then, to your absolute delight, he looked flabbergasted.

"You—" He stopped, as if trying to process the sheer absurdity of your first words after bonding. "That is the first thing you wish to ask me?"

You nodded, completely serious. "I've been meaning to ask for a while."

And then—

Malleus laughed.

Laughed and laughed.

Deep and rich, his chest vibrating against yours as his entire body shook with amusement.

You pouted and waited for him to get it together, only for him to kiss your forehead, still grinning.

"Yes," he admitted, eyes twinkling. "That was me."

You gasped. Vindication.

Finally.

The mystery that had plagued you for months was solved.

With a triumphant little noise, you snuggled back into him, pressing your face against his chest as sleep threatened to claim you again.

Malleus chuckled, tucking you closer, and as he rested his chin atop your head, he couldn’t help but think—

Despite your eccentricities, he had never been happier than being yours.

Masterlist

[juyomiao]

FIREWORK - P. SUNGHOON

park sunghoon x idol!reader

★ synopsis newly debuted 5th gen girl group CUP!D from starship entertainment is under everyone's eyes as their debut song 'love dive' goes viral both domestically and internationally ; all is going well until the group's main vocalist, y/n, gets exposed for her old stan… hate account?

☆ featuring enhypen , ive , cravity's seongmin hyeongjun and taeyoung

★ genre smau , idol au , fluff , crack , angst , enemies (?) to lovers

☆ warnings kys/kms jokes , death threats (joking)(most of the times) , my shitty humor , cyberbullying (nothing too heavy) , more specific warnings will be added to each chapter , fromis_9's hayoung as a placeholder for yn's pics

★ status discontinued :(

☆ taglist closed

★ note firework like the &team song not the katy perry song (ray told me to say this) ,, working on an smau makes u anxious ? why not start writing another one !! im taking care of myself i swear 🫶🏻 the group name i came up with might be ass but theres a specific joke i can make with it

MASTERLIST

(chapter titles might be subject to change as the fic goes on)

★ profiles [CUP!SS] / [cool men (real)] / [pick me girls]

01 ♡ wonception

02 ♡ gay son

03 ♡ apology letter with tears

04 ♡ #ynOUT

05 ♡ what are we

06 ♡ leash kid

07 ♡ like the stayc song

08 ♡ menstrual cup brand

09 ♡ quadratic equations

10 ♡ illiteracy

11 ♡ homie hopper allegations

12 ♡ first day at gay high school

13 ♡ reddit aita

[more to be added]

[gh0st-t0wn3]

Lmk ss edits + headcanons, Part 5 (Porty MK, Artist MK, Delivery MK)

- He/They

- Gay

- Calls Redson either Wildfire or Firecracker

- Whenever something goes wrong he says "called it." (He did not, in fact, call it)

- Calls everyone "Dude"

- Once took Redson out to the Anti-gravity Arcade and got mad when he passed out after almost 32 hours of non-stop dancing and playing arcade games

- Tells MK that he has no fashion sense but will wear the most atrocious combination of colours and patterns himself

- Has multiple ear piercings as well as a bellybutton and tongue piercing

-  Once threw a party that got busted by the police and dispelled himself to avoid getting caught

- Has so much energy, if he's not at a party he's constantly walking around the apartment, if his legs start hurting he'll sit down for like 8 seconds before getting up and walking around again because he still has so much energy left

- Makes the dirtiest jokes known to man kind

- Makes the others do karaoke night with him. every. week.

- Will sometimes put on lipstick and kiss all over Redsons face and neck to make og MK jealous (trust me guys, please🙏)

- Absolutely HATES dark chocolate, it's too bitter for him

- Despises the claw machine games at the arcade, if he gets something and then it falls out of the claw he'll literally break the glass and just take it

- Lives on energy drinks

- Will refuse to drink any soft drinks when they run out of bubbles

- Loves those cringey alpha wolf memes

- Laughs at those firemen saving people in reverse videos and always sends them to Redson, who also laughs at them (yes it does concern MK and the others)

- Smells like sweat and cotton candy (its from flavoured vape smoke)

- Love language is Quality time (and by quality time I mean partying)

- Has a whole box of glowsticks

- "Hey, hey, hey guys, watch this!!" *fails at trick*

- Loves candy, especially hard candies

- Scams kids out of their tickets at the arcade

- Paints his nails a different colour every week, and almost always uses glow in the dark nail polish

- Tried to make his own firework show once and set three houses on fire

- Would rearrange someone's whole room just to mess with them

- Has a monkey form just like og MK, he uses his tail to take prizes from the claw machines without having to actually play them

- He/They

- Gay

- Calls Redson his Muse

- Would probably collect bones. It freaks the fuck out of MK and the other clones

- Will destroy any and every art piece if it doesn't turn out exactly how he envisioned it in his head

- Writes fanfiction

- Constantly covered in paint splatters, charcoal, glue, etc

- Hates baths, lives off dry shampoo

- He acts like a cat whenever he gets wet

- Takes great care of all his art supplies and will flip out if something is out of place

- Agreed to help Sandy paint his boat again the second time he was summoned but only if Sandy stopped changing what colour he wanted it to be after every new coat of paint (Sandy learnt his lesson the first time art MK was summoned)

- His advice is always "just kill them"

- Bites ankles

- Was almost arrested for vandalism (he ran away from the cops)

- Once painted a picture of Redson, who only said "this is pretty good" (it was in fact a genuine compliment, he loved it), and Artist almost killed him

- Analyzes his dreams as if he's the prophet predicting the end of the world

- Won't let anyone use his art supplies

- Growls at people

- Perfectionist

- Smells like paint fumes

- Love language is gift giving and words of affirmation

- If he's focusing on something really hard and something startles him, he'll jump in the air like a cat

- Was drawing at a park once and a bunch of kids were being annoying so he tripped one when it ran past him

- Collects concept art books from literally anything, movies, video games, TV shows, it doesn't even matter if he's played/watched them he just likes looking at the concept art

- Insomniac who 'cures' it with an unholy amount of caffeine

- Has drank paint water before, will do it again

- Extremely passive agressive

- MK yelled at him once for getting paint all over his bed

- Has a monkey form just like og MK, he uses his tail to reach higher places when painting on walls and shit

(Had to use og MK has a base ref because the show did delivery MK dirty)

- He/They

- Gay

- Calls Redson Paprika

- Loves straws, will only ever drink something if he uses a straw (I did this as a kid)

- Is constantly listening to music while doing deliveries and has absolutely passed his destination on multiple occasions

- Surprisingly witty

- Is the only MK who knows how to cook and genuinely loves it

- Has a little bit more chub than og MK does (duplicatnation did him dirty and I will never forgive them for his design)

- Has gotten into physical fights with rude customers before and would do it again

- Absolutely HATES eating fish

-His shoe laces are never tied, the amount of orders he's ruined because he tripped on his stupid laces is insane

- If he gets bored he'll just lay on the floor and do nothing

- Has accidentally eaten dog food before

- After a long day of delivering he'll pass out for hours at a time then wake up again at like 2am

- "Not to be rude, but.." proceeds to say the most disrespectful shit you've ever heard

- Either cannot keep a secret for the life of him, or will immediately forget the secret 5 mins after being told what it is, no in-between

- Him and the other clones accidently broke into a strangers house once, and he felt really bad so he cleaned the dishes before leaving (it was on the news)

- Will @ a specific person in a group chat instead of just dming them

- Sometimes eats out of the noodles he's delivering, no one has found out yet

- Smells like noodles

- Love language is Acts of service

- If he gets into a fight with someone he is fully willing and ready to resort to biting

- Saw Monkey King eat his own hair once and almost threw up

- Sometimes if a customer is being rude while ordering over the phone he'll purposely drive slow or take a longer route so their noodles are cold when they get them (og MK has told him to stop multiple times because he's scared of Pigsy thinking he's the reason they get any bad reviews)

- Has a Spotify Playlist for every possible occasion

- Gives out really good hugs and will hug people for really long periods

- Cries when he sees sad animal videos

- Can't whistle to save his life

- Has a monkey form just like og MK, he uses his tail to hold more orders to get work done faster

[estellan0vella]

Love In Print│Bang Chan

Chapter Eight: I Work And Lurk SS: 10 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 2.3 K Content Warnings: violent daydream of murder

Previous Next Masterlist

Ayame stands barefoot in her bedroom, the lace of her black bra visible beneath the undone buttons of her crimson blouse. She zips up her miniskirt with one hand, the other holding two pairs of earrings. A battle between hoops and studs waging in her mind. The half-unrolled curlers in her hair give her a look that's equal parts glamorous and chaotic.

The knock at her door interrupts her internal fashion debate. She exhales sharply, dropping the earrings onto her vanity and heading toward the sound.

She pulls the door open to find a delivery guy standing there, clutching a bouquet of extravagant red roses that look like they belong in a Valentine's Day ad. His eyes widen as they drift down from her face to the teasing hint of lace beneath her blouse, and his ears flush crimson. He coughs awkwardly, holding out the bouquet as though it's a shield.

"Uh... Lim Ayame?" he stammers, his voice cracking like a teenager's.

"That's me," Ayame replies, raising an eyebrow. She takes the flowers from him, her unimpressed expression clearly missed by the poor guy, whose gaze nervously flickers back to her collarbone.

"Have a great day!" he blurts, spinning on his heel and all but sprinting down the hallway.

Ayame snorts, shutting the door with her hip. "Men," she mutters, heading to the kitchen. She sets the bouquet on the counter, grabbing a vase from under the sink and filling it with water. As she arranges the roses, the bright red blooms almost obnoxiously vibrant against her muted countertops, her eyes catch on a small card tucked between the stems.

Pulling it out, she reads the note: You're always beautiful.

Her brow furrows. She stares at the words for a beat too long, lips pressing into a thin line before shaking her head and setting the card down with an exaggerated scoff. "Romance," she mutters sarcastically, turning back toward her room.

In the living room, chaos is beginning to stir. Hyunjin sits perched on the arm of the couch, his hair dishevelled but still somehow model-worthy, while Seungmin is sprawled out on the floor, blanket tangled around his legs as he scrolls through his phone. The unmistakable sound of Minho's snores rumbles from Ayame's bedroom, loud enough to make the walls vibrate.

"Who was at the door?" Hyunjin asks, his voice scratchy from sleep as he stretches, looking like an overgrown housecat.

"Flowers," Ayame calls back from her room. She pulls the curlers from her hair, brushing the soft waves into place and swiping on her signature red lipstick. "Probably from Seonghwa."

Seungmin snorts, setting his phone down. "Poor guy. You don't even like him."

"I could learn to," Ayame says as she tosses her lipstick into her bag and grabs her hoops. The jewellery clinks softly as she fastens them.

Hyunjin leans forward, smirking. "Aya, Seonghwa's boring. Predictable. You don't need boring. You need fireworks. Chaos. Someone who makes you scream." The snore from her bedroom crescendos into an epic snort that startles everyone into silence. Hyunjin winces. "Speaking of screaming, Minho sounds like a dying animal."

"He'll wake himself up," Ayame mutters, grabbing her bag.

As if on cue, the bedroom door creaks open, and Minho stumbles out like a zombie, his hair sticking up in every possible direction. He squints at the light, muttering curses under his breath as he makes a beeline for the coffee pot.

Seungmin raises an eyebrow, sipping from his already full mug. "So, will there be a second date with Seonghwa?"

"Maybe," Ayame says noncommittally as she shrugs on her coat.

Seungmin squints at her, clearly unconvinced. "What even happened last night? You and Minho disappeared into your room forever."

"Nothing," Ayame says quickly, the pitch of her voice just slightly too high to sound convincing. "Absolutely nothing."

Minho, now holding a steaming mug of coffee, takes a long sip before speaking. "She made out with Satan's hellhound before her date with Seonghwa."

Seungmin spits out his coffee. Hyunjin freezes mid-stretch, his jaw dropping. "What?"

"Why?!" Seungmin demands, staring at Ayame like she's lost her mind. "Why would you do that? Why the fuck would you make out with Chan?"

"It's proximity poisoning!" Ayame snaps, throwing her hands in the air.

Minho smirks, leaning against the counter with an infuriating air of calm. "Don't worry. I baptized her with tequila and saged the shit out of her afterwards."

Hyunjin bites into a piece of toast, nodding thoughtfully. "Good. We should sage her again before she spends the day in that office with him."

"Agreed," Seungmin mutters.

"It was in an elevator," Minho adds, his tone far too pleased with himself.

Hyunjin pauses mid-bite, his eyes wide. "That's hot, but also bad. So bad. You folded, Ayame."

"It will not happen again," Ayame says firmly, jabbing a finger in their direction for emphasis.

"Good," Seungmin replies, nodding seriously. "Because we can only sage you so many times before it loses its effectiveness."

Ayame sighs heavily, shoving her phone into her bag and heading for the door. "I'm leaving before I let you idiots talk me into more bullshit."

The trio follows her like a pack of mischievous hyenas, their commentary trailing behind her as she braces herself for another day of chaos at Levanter-Miroh.

Ayame sits at her desk, the soft rustle of papers and the steady scratch of her pen the only sounds in the room. Her black stilettos tap against the polished floor rhythmically, a subtle outlet for the storm of thoughts swirling in her head. She's focused, or at least pretending to be, as she works through yet another draft riddled with the desperate errors of an overzealous author.

The door creaks open, breaking the fragile quiet. Ayame doesn't look up.

Chan steps in, shrugging off his damp coat and hanging it with mechanical precision on the rack by the door. His tie is loose, his white shirt clinging to his shoulders slightly from the drizzle outside, and his hair looks like he ran his fingers through it in a half-hearted attempt to tame it. He's sharp as always, but there's an edge of dishevelment that makes him look strangely human.

"Still trying to fix other people's disasters?" he asks, his voice low but clear.

Ayame doesn't look up, her pen pausing for just a moment. "Still trying to win world's most insufferable colleague?"

Chan exhales deeply, stepping further into the room. "I don't want to fight."

Her eyes flick up, finally meeting his. "What do you want, then?"

He hesitates, his gaze softening in a way she doesn't expect. "I'm sorry," he says, his voice quieter than usual.

Ayame arches an eyebrow, her lips curving into a sharp smirk. "So sorry you forgot to shower this morning? Seriously, Chan, you look like awful."

His lips twitch, a reluctant smile threatening to break through. "Can we call a truce? Just for today."

Ayame sighs theatrically, setting her pen down and leaning back in her chair. "Fine. Ceasefire." She mimes pulling an imaginary gun from her waistband, placing it on the desk with a dramatic click of her tongue.

Chan raises an eyebrow but plays along, miming pulling a gun from his blazer and setting it beside hers. Ayame reaches under her desk, pretending to unstrap a thigh holster, and pulls out another invisible gun. She slams it on the desk with mock ferocity.

"You've clearly been outgunning me this whole time," Chan says, leaning back with a low chuckle.

Ayame smirks, brushing a stray curl out of her face. "Classy women always carry thigh holsters. Thought you knew."

"Noted. Classy and lethal," Chan says, raising his hands in mock surrender, his grin breaking through at last.

She picks up her pen again, her expression softening just slightly. "Alright, truce it is. Now, let's never speak of it again."

"Deal," Chan replies, sitting down at his desk and flipping open his laptop. The faint hum of the device fills the space as the tension between them dissolves into an uneasy silence.

Ayame pulls open a desk drawer, humming softly as she begins arranging tiny Christmas decorations. A string of lights is draped carefully along the edge of her desk, their soft glow casting a warm hue on her workspace. A miniature Christmas tree follows, its tiny ornaments glinting in the office lighting. Chan glances up from his screen, his gaze flicking between her and the decorations.

"Getting festive, are we?" he asks, his tone laced with amusement.

Ayame doesn't look at him. "I'd say it's the least I can do to make this place tolerable."

Chan leans back in his chair, folding his arms. "How was your date?"

Ayame pauses, her fingers lingering on a tiny angel figurine. She doesn't look at him as she replies, "Fine. He sent me flowers this morning. We have stuff in common. He's nice."

"Nice," Chan echoes, his tone flat as his gaze sharpens. "Nice guy, huh?"

She finally looks up, frowning slightly. "What's wrong with nice?"

"Nothing," he says, shrugging. "If that's what you want."

Ayame narrows her eyes, her fingers tightening around the angel as she sets it down with deliberate care. "What the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Chan looks at her evenly, his voice measured. "It's supposed to mean exactly what you think it means."

Her lips press into a thin line as she turns back to her decorations, deliberately ignoring him. "Sometimes, you don't need chaos, Chan. Sometimes you just want something... steady."

"Steady is good," Chan murmurs, his gaze lingering on her before he returns to his laptop. "If you're into boring."

Ayame snaps her head toward him, eyes blazing. "Not everything needs to be a goddamn war."

"Agreed," Chan replies smoothly, his voice infuriatingly calm. "Truce, remember?"

Ayame lets out a frustrated huff, tapping her chin as a mischievous glint flashes in her eyes. "Fine. Let's play the Normal Colleagues game."

Chan raises an eyebrow. "Oh, this should be good."

Ayame adopts an overly cheerful tone, her voice dripping with saccharine politeness. "Good morning, Chan! How was your weekend?"

Chan leans back, watching her with an amused expression as she continues.

"Oh, my weekend was absolutely splendid, Ayame! Thank you for asking," she says, mimicking a second voice. "You're so thoughtful, just like your thoughtful edits."

Chan stares at her, deadpan. Then he mimes shooting himself in the head with a finger gun, his head lolling dramatically to the side as he makes a bang sound.

Ayame crosses her arms, glaring at him. "Wow, rude."

"Yeah, hard pass on the Normal Colleagues game," Chan replies, smirking as he returns to his laptop.

Ayame shakes her head, a reluctant smile tugging at her lips as she picks up her pen. Despite herself, the room feels a little lighter.

Ayame is carefully positioning her miniature Christmas tree, adjusting the tiny angel perched precariously on the top, when the sharp, rhythmic click of Nari's heels fills the air. Without looking up, Ayame mutters, "Morning."

"Ayame," Nari starts, her tone clipped and businesslike as always, "I need to talk to you about your team-building proposal."

Ayame finally glances up, her fingers still fussing with the decorations. "Oh, sure. What's up?"

Nari's gaze flicks to Chan, who is now watching with mild interest, before returning to Ayame. "Chan submitted his own proposal."

Ayame freezes for a fraction of a second before setting the angel down deliberately. "Did he now?"

Chan, clearly enjoying himself, stands with a confident smirk and brushes off his blazer as if preparing for a presentation. "Paintball," he says with the smug assurance of someone who thinks they've already won. "Outdoor activity, teamwork, adrenaline. It's perfect."

Ayame's brow arches, her legs crossing as she leans back in her chair, the picture of poised disdain. "Ah yes, nothing fosters workplace camaraderie like a chance to physically assault your colleagues with projectiles."

"I thought it was inspired," Chan replies smoothly, crossing his arms.

Nari sighs, rubbing her temple. "I wasn't entirely sold either, but Haechul loved the idea."

As if summoned by the mere mention of his name, Haechul barrels into the room like a human wrecking ball, his voice booming. "Damn right, I loved it!" He claps his hands together, his grin wide and obnoxious. "Let's face it, who doesn't want to shoot their coworkers every now and then? Get the tension out! Guns, ammo, and teamwork, baby!"

Ayame stares at him, her jaw tightening. "That sounds like a lawsuit waiting to happen."

"Ha!" Haechul barks, waving her off. "You millennials and your HR paranoia. Back in my day, we handled shit like adults"

"Back in your day, they also let people smoke in hospitals," Ayame mutters, her voice dripping with venom.

"Anyway," Nari interjects before Haechul can respond, "we flipped a coin, and paintball it is."

Ayame's grip tightens on her armrest, her knuckles going white as her mind conjures a vivid scene of launching herself across the desk and tackling Chan. She imagines yanking his tie tight like a makeshift noose, slowly choking him to death.

"Ayame?" Nari's voice pulls her sharply from the fantasy.

Ayame blinks, finding herself still seated, her nails digging into the armrest. She forces a tight smile, smoothing the fabric of her blouse. "Whatever's best for the company," she says sweetly, her tone sharp enough to cut glass. "If you'll excuse me."

She stands, her chair scraping against the floor as she strides out of the office, the staccato clicks of her stilettos echoing in her wake.

Haechul watches her leave, then leans over to Chan, a smug grin plastered across his face. "Pixie on the rag?"

Nari freezes, her eyes narrowing as she stares at Haechul like he just spat on her shoes. "Seriously, Haechul?" she snaps, her voice laced with disgust. "Do you ever listen to yourself?"

"What?" Haechul shrugs, clearly unbothered. "I'm just saying—women get moody. It's science."

"Christ," Nari mutters, throwing her hands up as she storms out, her disgust trailing behind her like a storm cloud.

Haechul remains seated, whistling an off-key tune as he leans back in his chair. "Bet she hasn't gotten laid in a while," he muses, grinning at Chan. "That's usually the problem, right? Women get all tense—"

Chan slams his laptop shut with a force that makes Haechul flinch slightly. "You done?"

Haechul raises his hands in mock surrender. "Touchy."

Chan doesn't respond, his jaw tight as his gaze flicks toward the door Ayame disappeared through. For a moment, his expression softens, the smugness draining away to reveal something closer to regret.

Haechul stretches, still completely oblivious to the tension in the room. "You know," he says, grinning again, "paintball's gonna be fucking awesome."

Chan doesn't look at him, his tone clipped as he mutters, "Yeah. Fucking awesome."

The tension hangs heavy as Haechul shrugs and whistles his way out, leaving Chan alone in the office, staring at the empty doorway Ayame had walked through. His fingers tap against the desk, his usually sharp eyes clouded with something he refuses to name.

Taglist: @fackeraccount @ot8girlfie @nightmarenyxx @reimaybeidk

@ismelllikechlorine247 @drewsandsebastianswife @my-neurodivergent-world @rhonnie23 @hanji-coffee

[luckys-rw-rats]

Slugcats? Again?

Been a bit busy with other art stuff + got burnt out during April, but some progress

Planned redesign for Mother; I just switched their palette around, which was what I had in mind originally. Bird Tamer is a fairly recent redesign idea; I just didn't like their colors anymore and I found their mask a bit boring.

And the Prey; made by the iterator who made Deceptor and Planter, Setting Sun. Created to be lizard food to SS' beloved pyro lizards.

That's it for now. Really liking my slugcat anatomy now, tho I'm still experimenting a bit. Have a wip for Firework and Planter's redesigns going, and even have an outfit idea for Wilted Leaves in mind. Bit busy atm tho so it might take a bit to see em from me.

The Mother The Bird Tamer The Prey

[togetherhearted]

Hello. How about Sett, Thresh and Nasus with explosives specialist S/O?

Hello to you!

And of course!Hope this is fine!!

SETT,THRESH AND NASUS WITH EXPLOSIVE SPECIALIST S/O.

-Sett recognizes his limits. He's formidable with his fists but put him in front of a machine snd he will look at you with confused puppy eyed.

-He would love to help but he's as delicate ss s pack of elephants in a glass house;no way you'll let him touch your stuff.

-Asks if you can prepare fireworks for his grandiose entrances in the arena.

-The souls collector might get too interested in your abilities. His mind working on a plan to use it at your expense.

-Will convince you into making a,totally not dangerous,explosive;then trick you to deploy it in an empty space, apparently empty but you don't have to know the truth.

-Despite the quite obvious sinister intent, you are happy he's supportive of your work.

-The first time you brought one of your explosives in his library he went out of character and almost threw it out golf style. He was afraid you would damage his books.

-It wasn't your intention to upset him, so you only worked on them outside;making them explode in the sand.

-He still gifts you books about them. He wants to support your passion, in his own way.

[beardedmrbean]

A Texas mother has been arrested and charged for allegedly buying ammunition and tactical gear for her son's planned "mass targeted violence" at his middle school, officials said.

Ashley Pardo, 33, was arrested on Monday and charged with aiding in commission of terrorism after she allegedly provided ammunition and tactical gear to her son, whose behavior demonstrated plans for a "mass targeted violence" aimed at Rhodes Middle School in San Antonio, according to an affidavit obtained by ABC News.

Back in January, Pardo's son was first contacted in reference to "drawings of the local school he currently attended," the affidavit said. These drawings included a map of the school -- labeled "suicide route" -- and the name of the school written beside a rifle, the affidavit said.

The son, who was not named in the affidavit, was contacted by officials at the time and described a "fascination with past mass shooters," according to the affidavit.

In April, the son was found researching the 2019 Christchuch mosque shooting in New Zealand -- a tragedy that killed 51 people -- on a school-issued computer, the affidavit said.

He was "subsequently suspended and later in the day attempted suicide with a straight razor causing significant injuries and requiring over 100 stitches," the affidavit noted. The boy attended an alternative school until May 7, according to officials.

His grandmother, with whom he had been staying "on various occasions," contacted police on Monday after she found her grandson "hitting a live bullet with a hammer," the affidavit said.

The middle schooler told his grandmother he received the bullet from Pardo and that she had "guns and ammunition at her house," according to the affidavit.

The grandmother told officials Pardo had been taking the boy to a local surplus store and bought him magazines, a tactical black vest "capable of concealing ballistic plates," a tactical black helmet and various army clothing, the affidavit said.

On Monday, the boy told his grandmother he was "going to be famous" before being picked up by his mom and taken to school, according to officials.

The grandmother then looked through the boy's bedroom, where she found magazines loaded with live rifle ammunition and pistol magazines loaded with live ammunition, the affidavit said.

She also found an "improvised explosive device" -- a mortar-style firework wrapped in duct tape -- among the boy's belongings, the affidavit noted. The explosive device had the words "For Brenton Tarrant," referencing the shooter in the 2019 mosque attack, along with multiple "SS" symbols and "14 words" -- referencing white supremacy -- written on it, according to the affidavit.

Along with the weaponry, the grandmother found a handwritten note referring to previous mass shootings, mass shooting suspects and the number of victims in each incident, the affidavit said.

Pardo had been aware of the threats made by her son, expressed to the school her support of his "violent expressions and drawings" and said she did not feel concerned for his behavior, according to the affidavit.

The affidavit noted that Pardo was purchasing the gear and ammunition for her son in exchange for babysitting his younger siblings.

The school told officials that on Monday, the boy arrived wearing a camouflage jacket, mask and tactical pants and left shortly after, the affidavit said.

In a letter sent to parents on Monday, Rhodes Middle School Principal Felismina Martinez said Pardo's son was "detained off-campus and is being charged with terrorism."

"Please know we take all potential threats seriously and act immediately to protect everyone in our care," Martinez said in the letter. "We will always remain vigilant to ensure our learning and working environment is safe and secure."

Pardo was released on a bond of $75,000 on Tuesday, according to jail records. She will return to court for a pre-indictment hearing on July 17, according to court records.

[greenfiend]

hi! I was rewatching 2x09 and there's a detail I can't figure out about the very last shot (the one where the camera spins to show us the UD version of the gym from the outside.) Some of the lights from the ball inside are lit, but s4 confirmed it's possible for light sources (or at least their glow) in the UD to 'sync' when turned on in the right side up, even if they were not there or didn't exist in 11/6/83. So far so good, but what about the cars in the parking lot from december (13/15/18th? I can't see the poster) being in the exact same position in the UD?

I took some ss but i'm not sure if you can see the cars that clearly

Ig it could depend on whether the (blue) UD is a snapshot of the right side up or if it's will's headspace here, so idk.

Interesting find here!

I think it's entirely possible that different aspects of the UD are stuck at different times.

When Will vanished, he caused time to be stuck in Nov 6, 1983 (likely at 8:15 just like "Little Boy" the atomic bomb did to time pieces in Hiroshima...)

It seems like when a gate opens- time freezes. And whenever gates open, it seems like it's due to a (metaphorical) nuclear reaction.

When Will vanishes, "nuclear fission" occurs (just like "Little Boy" post about that comparison here). Nuclear fission = splitting (atoms) = releases a large amount of energy (+ toxic nuclear waste) = opens a gate. I talk about that in this post.

When Vecna and the MF target their victims, "nuclear fusion" occurs.

Nuclear fusion = fusing (atoms) together. Vecna/MF "combines" with their victims (they "join" him) = releasing a large amount of energy (no toxic waste!) = opens a gate.

(Credit to @willbyersabyss for this find).

This also occurred with the MF in ST3 during the movie theatre scene. That scene showed the MF "combining" with the rats while Will appears triggered while on a "movie date" with Mike. More "nuclear fusion".

(Credit to @threemanoperation for this find).

This occurs yet AGAIN in ST3 while the MF is again fusing with its victims.

MF fuses with its victims = fireworks go off (release of energy) and time stops (represented as the Ferris Wheel(er) stopping).

So basically, when a gate opens it requires a lot of energy. Nuclear reactions release a lot of energy. And as we know from Hiroshima, a nuclear reaction can essentially "freeze time" by stopping time pieces (like a watch) from functioning. Thus they are using this as a metaphor here.

As for the snowball scene, could it be possible that a gate was opening up at that specific time? Yes it could be. Lets think of the possible narrative reason, the supernatural reason and the symbolic one:

We learn in ST3 that the Russians have been working on opening a gate in Hawkins for a while now.

We don't really see much of Will after he dances with that girl, but we do know from the original script that he looks over (longingly) at Mike.

The Snow Ball... "he likes it cold", feeling forced to dance with a girl... "Every Breath You Take" plays (a song about an abusive stalking ex...) We can make the assumption that Will may have been triggered again at that dance. When I say "triggered" I mean this on two levels: 1. Supernatural stuff arising again. 2. Memories of Will's father resurfacing.

I hope I'm making sense!

And yes... I did do some research on nuclear physics for this theory...

[harrietbarnesblog]

Call it what you want

Series masterlist

Warning: mild smut

Chapter 7: slow hands

Your house was on the second floor of the building. You guys took the lift. You both were silent but there was no awkwardness. You couldn't keep your eyes off him. And he kept sneaking looks at you too.

When you reached your door you entered the password to your house and entered along with Chan.

You offered the couch for Chan to sit down.

“You want some … beer?” you said as you took the beer bottle out of the fridge. You had only alcoholic beverages in your fridge. You ran out of milk and coffee. There was nothing else to provide to the guest.

“Isn't it too early for beer?”

“Not when you are an alcoholic.” you joked. Chan chuckled.

“Let's drink.”

3 beer bottles in, you and Chan were starting to get a bit tipsy.

“And then I was dancing on my bed very badly like in a sexy way you know and my mom came in. and it was so embarrassing for me. She rushed down and told my dad everything and they won't stop bringing it up each and every time we have dinner or lunch together.” you narrated your memory to Chan and he was listening with so much attention.

“You are so cute.” he said out of the blue.

“I know I am.” you said

“Look at you being narcissistic.” He teased you.

“It's not a crime to be narcissistic, mr. Bahng.”

“Is that so, ms. y/l/n?”

“Yes.”

He pulled you closer by your waist and started to tickle you. You couldn't stop laughing.

“Chris..ss…. Stop.” you said in between your laughs.

You were lying on the floor while he was tickling you. You managed to grab him and turn you guys around so that he was on the floor lying. You grabbed his hands and pinned his hand above his head. You both were closer than you guys should be. One wrong move and your lips would be on his.

“y/n.” he said.

“What?”

“We shouldn't.”

“Yeah we shouldn't.”

Your mouth might be speaking of something but your heart and lips wanted something else. You leaned in and kissed him. He kissed you back. His soft lips moved against yours.you let go of his hands and grabbed his shirt

“Wait wait. What happens after this?” Chan asked, breaking away from the kiss.

“I have no idea. I mean I can't afford love or relationships in the condition I am in. You even being my friend will do a lot of damage to you.”

Chan didn't wanna lose you. He knew if he walks away from here he will lose everything with you. He just wanted to enjoy the rest of his life with you but it doesn't seem possible.

“We dont have to be in a relationship. Let's just roll with the flow. Shall we?” he asked and you nodded your head agreeing with him.

He pulled you back in the kiss. You deepened the kiss and your hand was tangled in his hair. His hands were under your hoodie tracing your back. You felt the butterflies in your stomach. There were fireworks and everything. You tear open his shirt and pull away from the kiss to look at him.

“Oops , sorry.” you said breathing heavily.

“You are not sorry.” he retorted back. A Few seconds in and all your clothes were scattered on the floor. Chan put you up on his shoulders and carried you to your bed. you pulled open your bedside drawer. You picked a condom. You ripped the cover open between your teeth.

“Damn you are sexy as fuck.” he said.

“Stop talking.” you said jokingly.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You rolled the condom on his dick. He was quick enough to push you down onto the bed. He grabbed your hand and pinned it above your head. He entered inside of you. Both of you lost into the moment of passion. Ignoring the whole world. Right now only you existed to him and only he existed to you.

[ash-lysandra]

I am obsessed with this month's additions! I love the Pride Parade with the Bobcats! It was so fun and amazing seeing the fireworks!! Seeing all the rainbow tack was great and I'm enjoying all of these lgbt themed things in SS!!

🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍🌈❤️🧡💛💚💙💜

[crusherthedoctor]

Sonic Stellar - Prologue, Part I

Prologue: A New Genesis

Three months later...

The late morning was silent, a portrait of complete tranquility. Like a perfect summer, but without the sweat to match. There were no clouds in this sky, no waves on this ocean, no strife on this day. The faint ripples of the sea were all that could be heard nearby.

...is what would be said, were it not for the giant purple aircraft soaring erratically overhead, flying left and right almost as much as it flew straight ahead.

"WHOOOO! Ha-haaa!"

The vessel in question, the SS Tornado EX, performed at an absurd speed for its size, and that wasn't all it had up its sleeve, as shown by the beeline it made towards the ocean below... only to then raise back up at the last second, completely unharmed, and impressively undrenched. About the only absent trick was a full-on barrel roll, as the lack of seatbelts would have presented a problem. Otherwise, nothing was beneath it.

Fortunately for the sealife, this was no reckless flyer... not too reckless, anyway. This glorious machine had seen its day before, and its pilots even moreso. In a change of pace however, it was the older member of the two who had found himself at the driver's helm. As it had been a while, his friend graciously offered him the role. He knew the risks full well, but he trusted him with his life.

After all, who wouldn't trust Sonic the Hedgehog?

"Having fun?" Tails wryly commented, not even shifting his gaze from the brochure he was reading. Despite his young age, he had experienced more than quite a lot of adults. Sonic flying in his own, unique way was like a Tuesday to him.

"You know it!" Sonic confirmed, with a characteristically wide grin. His bliss was downright enviable. "Haven't lost my touch!"

"I never said you did," his friend lightly chuckled.

As the Tornado EX continued its display of aerodynamic showmanship, something caught the corner of the fox's eye. He didn't put his brochure down, but he did glance to his right at the water below. It was shimmering marvellously, which would not be considered an irregularity on its own, but...

"Hey, does the sea look different to you?" Tails asked his partner. The entire time during their journey, it had remained pure blue, as one would expect, yet all of a sudden, the ocean had quietly turned a faint teal, as though it had always been that way. It couldn't have been the conditions either, since the weather hadn't changed at all...

"Huh, it kinda does," Sonic mused, which was followed up with a knowing smirk. "Must be cause we're getting closer! In fact..."

He paused, with a brief squint of the eyes... then nodded eagerly. "Yeah, that's it! That's the one!" He couldn't resist a fist pump. "We made it!"

As they flew closer to their intended destination, its true scope became quickly apparent, which got an impressed whistle out of the hedgehog, and silent awe from the fox. Without question, it was the largest island they had ever seen in their lives. Perhaps it was just as well that this one did not float in the air. Its perimeter, at least what little of it they could see from their direction, was near-completely circular, as though it had been precisely and carefully carved that way, and although no one appeared to be setting off any fireworks, a glowing phenomena seemed to radiate from within.

Viridonia was a more than worthy fit for their chosen vacation. To Sonic, the great thing about the world was that no matter how much of it he had seen in his travels, there was always bound to be something else further beyond. He wouldn't have it any other way.

With a simple push of a button, the Tornado EX slowly, yet rather ostentatiously, folded its wings as the aircraft hit the water for real. With the exception of a single sharp bump, the landing was respectable, much to the internal relief of Tails. As it made its way further towards a visible docking bay, the young heroes both knew they were in for the time of their lives.

In what way, however...

---

After he and Tails double checked that they tied down their ship in a way that wasn't amateur, Sonic turned around and got a first proper, in-depth look at his surrounding. The chalk white sand almost took up his attention all on its own, as did the black railings with their distinguished floral-themed patterns, but the town itself was simply too enticing to ignore.

Lime Shores could be described as walking into another world. Not the past, not the future, but one entirely of its own. It wasn't the largest town Sonic had ever seen, but it didn't need to be in order to make its first impression count. Every building that he could see, though they had a wide selection of colours for roofs, were otherwise a sleepy light blue from top to bottom. The formations that marked the cobblestone ground were a delicate selection of pastel pinks, light turquoises, hazy purples, and sea greens, among others. Shops and stands had been set up that sold all manners of pottery, jewelry, and other bits of pleasure to the senses that didn't match what he had seen anywhere else. It was like stepping into a book, and he would know, since he's done that before.

And throughout all of this, the residents carried on with their day as though it were any other. Animals and humans alike could be seen left and right, which - not counting the hedgehog's own presence in human-populated cities - was not a sight he was used to seeing. Their choice of fashion was equally as varied across the board, each of them with their own untold story. Some of them even looked in Sonic's direction ever so briefly, then carried right along as though he were a regular guy. Not that it particularly mattered to him if they recognized him, since that was never what he was about.

With his hands on his hips, his eyes stayed put on the scene, content with what he saw. As Tails walked up the small flight of steps to join him, the hedgehog could barely hide the joy on his face. He could feel his heart pumping in anticipation of this new venture.

"This is gonna be sweet," he let out with a smile. The sense of wonder found on the fox's face confirmed he was unambiguously feeling it too. "All this for the two of us."

"~Sonic!~"

The smile remained perfectly still on his face. "Oh."

Sonic and Tails turned to their right in unison, as if they didn't already know who it could be, to find none other than Amy Rose, who was currently sprinting over to them in only the way that she could. Her trusted friend, Cream, was tagging along right behind her, as was Cheese the Chao. It would seem that they decided to go for a vacation of their own... right here, of all places. A mere coincidence, right?

"Fancy seeing you here!" Amy beamed, with one hand on her hip, and a finger on her chin. "You didn't tell us you guys were coming here too!"

"Well, uh..." Sonic turned to Tails for a brief moment, to which his orange pal merely shrugged. "I mean, you didn't tell us either... Not that I can blame you for stopping by, cause look at all this!"

"It's so pretty, Mr. Sonic," Cream simply said, with that innocent smile on her face, and her hands clasped.

"Chao!" Cheese gladly agreed.

"As soon as we heard about this place, I knew we HAD to go," Amy explained, as her tail predictably swished to and fro at the sight of her hero. She took another look at the glowing buildings. "It's the perfect little spot... or big spot... and it even kinda has a romantic touch to it-"

Before finishing, she noticed Sonic wordlessly raising an eyebrow, as if he knew exactly what was coming. Sensing this, Amy abruptly cleared her throat.

"Well, anyway, it's great that we're all here," she laughed. "I don't suppose you were planning on doing anything before we turned up?"

"We were just sort of looking around for now," Tails answered, scratching his head awkwardly. "We just got here after all, so we don't know where everything is yet."

"Oh, we only arrived a couple of hours ago, so we're getting used to it too!" The pink hedgehog mischievously smirked at Sonic. "Wanna do it together?"

Sonic took one look at her, and jokingly sighed, complete with rolling his eyes as dramatically as possible. "I GUESS there's no harm," he muttered, though he couldn't help but smirk in turn at his bubbly friend's not-too-subtle determination. "Too bad Knuckles couldn't attend, I think this could have been up his street... or maybe all the blue would have reminded him too much of me."

As the blue hedgehog and his two-tailed partner began to examine the stands in person, for a closer look at what they had to offer, Amy was all too ready to join them. However, upon looking back, she soon stopped in her tracks as she noticed the mild expression of guilt on Cream's face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" she asked out of concern, and placed a hand on her friend's shoulder. "Missing home already?"

The bunny grabbed her left ear out of shame. "I know it's silly of me, because we've been to so many places before... but this is the first time in a while, so I think I might need to get used to it again..."

"Y'know, there's nothing shameful about that," Amy rubbed her shoulder sympathetically. "Tell you what, why don't you have a look around of your own and in your own time, then you can meet back up with the rest of us?"

After mulling it over, and checking for Cheese's input, Cream nodded gently. "That sounds good... but I won't go too far away," she clarified, before the two of them shared a giggle together.

---

"Maybe we could find something for mother," Cream pondered out loud, with some increased elation. "Or maybe a picture would be nice?"

"Chao!" Cheese nodded enthusiastically.

As promised, Cream made sure to not stray too far from her friends. She had been in unfamiliar territory before, and had gotten herself out, but those had a particular urgency to them. To do so on what was meant to be a calming vacation would be the opposite of ideal. As she made her trek, taking mental notes of where certain passing sights were so as to remember them for later, she found herself looking down at the colorful cobblestone more than once. Not without reason.

She hadn't noticed it previously, but now that she was this close, it almost looked… translucent? Maybe that wasn't the right word, it wasn't as though she could see right through it, but despite being a simple stone walkway, it was as though some kind of energy had been quietly streaming right through it, bringing its soft flavors to life.

And now that she thought more about it, the buildings from earlier had a similar thing going on. The more she thought back to them, their colour also looked less like an ordinary coat of paint… Was she imagining things, or was this really how they were? Was there something more to them...?

Before the bunny could give it additional thought, she looked up once more, and found that she was actually in a secluded woodland area now. She wasn't that far deep into it, she could still see the familiar shore from a certain distance behind her, but she immediately took to it. The trees and bushes, of which there were plenty, provided a bountiful mix of dark greens and oranges for their leaves, and inbetween was a modest field of flowers. Some of the flowers in question were similarly orange, while others were either red or yellow.

"Ohhh!" Cream eagerly ran over to them, and kneeled down for a closer look. It was a mystery how she didn't scrape her knees in the process. "They're so beautiful, aren't they? Maybe we could give one for mother, or for Amy! ...Although... what if someone owns them? They might not like us picking them, huh?"

"Chao..." Cheese astutely commiserated.

Regardless of that possibility, it was still a joy for the two of them. She pointed at this flower, that flower, that flower over there, and more or less every other flower. She was certainly caught up in all this, and she had every right to be... even if it made her a target for Metal Sonic.

From a small distance, behind one tree of many, the robot watched the bunny having her fun. Its limbs lowered for a moment, as though it had been taken off guard... as though it had been doing something else before noticing her. Perhaps it did not expect more of the hedgehog's friends to appear on this island. Perhaps it remembered her as one of the culprits that got in its way that one time. Whatever the case, it wouldn't remain an issue for long. An enemy to Eggman is an enemy to Metal Sonic. And there's only one option for pest control.

With the element of surprise, it could have swiped her in a second, before she would have time to realise what had even happened. It knew that. It was more than capable. To witness the look of fear, though... that's a special pleasure. One that would not be sacrificed.

Metal stepped forward, with an alarming absence of sound for such a machine, and slowly closed in on the unassuming duo. As they continued to point out whichever flowers that had tickled their fancy, its left hand scraped its claws against its palm, as if it were hungry, starving, to use those claws on anyone, or anything. As a look of uneasiness suddenly appeared on Cream's face, as though sensing something was amiss, Metal swiftly raised its left claw, waiting sadistically for the moment she turned her head.

*THWIP*

It would not get the desired craving.

Metal jolted, and turned to its left, in a way that heavily suggested something else had distracted it. Yet, there appeared to be no one else in the vicinity. Before Metal could regain its focus, Cream had finally turned, and suffice to say, she was immediately filled with shock. Despite this, she took to a fighting stance rather quickly for her age, with Cheese going as far as to put up his dukes, yet the fright remained present on both of their faces. As Metal took notice of this, it tilted its head, and silently nodded. It was prepared to deal with this silly girl in the old fashioned way. It stretched out its claws, ready for a battle if necessary-

*THWIP*

Metal jolted once again, as though it had dodged something, even though neither Cream or Cheese had laid a hand on it. It looked at her again, and although no emotion could be registered from its permanent glare, something seemed to tick in its head. With a mocking wave, it flew away violently, leaving as quickly as it had arrived. The rabbit looked up in the sky at where the evil doppelganger had vanished, and she couldn't help but be a teensy bit baffled at the whole experience.

"M-...Metal Sonic?" She paused to check her heartbeat. "What was he doing here? Why did he attack us? Is he doing something for Doctor Eggman?"

As soon as she mentioned the scientist, she gasped, and clasped both of her ears at the mere thought of him. "Oh no! Could the doctor be up to bad things again? In this pretty place? We've got to tell our friends about this!"

"Chao! Chao!"

"Huh?"

Cheese lightly tugged on her ear to get her attention, and pointed at one of the trees from nearby. At first, she couldn't tell what she was meant to be looking at, but upon inching closer, it soon became apparent. There was something there that hadn't been there when they had entered. Namely, a pair of arrows, both of them stuck on the same tree.

With a raised eyebrow, she slowly placed her hand on the lower arrow that was stuck, and gently took it off, taking care not to break the arrow outright. As she examined it, the craftmanship stood out to her: not that she would claim to be an expert on that sort of thing, but it was clear even to the casual perspective that this was no simple job. It was finely put together, and the handle even had a specific pattern carved on it, consisting of swirls in one direction or the other. Now, as for who could have made these...

"Are you okay?"

"Ahh!"

Cream did a little jump upon being startled by the sudden voice that came from a very close proximity. As if being startled once wasn't enough. Though this one had a voice... and that voice was distinctly feminine. Seeking out the source, she turned her head to the left, only to find nothing. She turned her head to the right... and was greeted with a thick pair of blue boots that stood tall and reached up to the person's knees. The heels of which were firmly flat, and behind them was the lower half of what seemed to be a tail as green as mint, and smooth as silk. The kind of tail that you'd expect from a horse. Taking a moment, Cream slowly glanced her way upwards.

Where the boots ended - which took a while, as their legs were quite long from her perspective - a pair of brown breeches began, and as she got to see the rest of the person's tail, she could confirm that it was indeed that of a horse. Covering their chest was a breezy tank top, with the same shade of blue as her boots, and their arms were covered by a pair of icy blue gloves that reached just above the elbows, one of which was holding onto a maroon bow... which, as it happened, featured a remarkably similar spiral pattern to the arrows on the tree. The figure itself had a youthful, yet mature build, and her fur was as gentle green as her tail.

Finally, the rabbit looked up at the head, but much of the lady's face was obscured by a bandana from the bottom, and a headscarf from the top, both of which were colored... well, surely you can guess. Poking out between them were a pair of warm brown eyes, and some of her bangs. Two arched ears poked out of the headscarf, along with a ponytail as large as her head that reached down to the upper half of her body. Amusingly, its shape strongly resembled that of her actual tail. After completing the analysis, Cream looked at the bow again, and immediately put two and two together... but not before realising she had remained quiet for a little too long.

"Y...yes, miss," she stuttered. "Thank you..." She really wasn't used to being crept on, let alone twice on the same day. She briefly wondered if this was how Blaze felt, before she soon remembered the arrow in her hand. Without another word, she raised the arrow in the woman's direction, as if to hand it over to her. She wasn't sure what to make of this person, and not just because she couldn't see much of her face, meaning she could only really look into their eyes.

Then again, they did just come to her defense, didn't they? And those eyes were as far from Metal Sonic's as you could get. They were calm... tender...

"And thank you," the lady said, as she blinked with a tiny nod. She took the arrow from the young girl's hand, and casually placed it back into her pocket that, by all accounts, should not be able to fit an arrow. She followed this up by gently pulling the second arrow from the tree herself, and placed that one in the same pocket. "Pardon me for causing a fright, but I couldn't let that incident go undisturbed."

"I'm... sorry about that," Cream shuffled her foot, still awkward in this unplanned for presence. Admittedly, she was also slightly weirded out by the unexpected maturity of the person's voice, despite them appearing to be not that much older then her friends. "I was silly, I should have noticed him-"

"What?" The horse glanced in her direction, and slowly kneeled down to her level. "My dear, what on earth do you have to be sorry for? That dirty bucket of garbage got the drop on you, it was hardly your fault." She gave a playful wink. "Besides, I'm sure you would have kicked his butt. You've done it before."

Cream couldn't help but giggle at that. And despite how it may have sounded to a more cynical individual, this was not hot air she was spewing just to make her feel better. It was obvious from the tone in the older person's voice that she fully believed what she was saying. And yet, what reason would she have to believe such a thing? Unless...

"You... know who I am?" the rabbit asked.

"Chao?" Cheese boldly questioned.

"Why, of course I do," the lady answered, with the faintest hint of a chuckle behind her bandana, as she rested her hands on her knee. "You and your friends are quite the celebrities, are you not?"

Before she could respond, Cream took another look at the eyes. The longer she looked at them, the more she noticed something else about them. For reasons unknown, they did not have the common white sclera. Instead, they were a very mild, light blue. You were not likely to notice it from far away, but up close was a different story. It was peculiar, and irregular, but not threatening... she found it kind of pretty, in a way.

"I don't really know about that," Cream bashfully scratched behind her head. "I know Mr. Sonic saves the world a lot, but I don't think anyone from around here recognizes him that well. Or maybe they don't care, it was kinda hard to tell..."

The woman paused at this. Her gaze turned downward for a single moment, before looking back up at the girl's own. After an additional moment of silence, her left glove slowly reached up to her bandana, and - with what seemed to be a short burst of hesitance - softly pulled it down, revealing the rest of her face at last. The first thing Cream noticed was how round and soft her muzzle was, with two slits that formed her nostrils. The second thing she noticed was how... pale it was.

"Well, if it means anything, you've got one fan over here," she stated fondly. Now that her face was revealed, the rabbit could appreciate the comforting little smile on her face. "Rest assured, I know who Sonic is. I know who you all are."

"You know all about our adventures?"

"Mm-hm," she confirmed, slightly sheepishly. "Not literally everything, but... generally, to put it lightly."

Cream looked at Cheese, who responded by nodding, indicating that the lady was fair enough in his book. As if by swift activation, a wave of excitement quickly filled the rabbit's expression, as an idea formed in her head.

"Would you like to meet Mr. Sonic?" she politely, yet unhesitantly asked.

The woman froze, apparently having not expected this offer in the slightest. She had merely intended to look out for her after Metal Sonic's attack, and was grateful enough to be speaking with her, now all of a sudden... what?

"I..." She took a moment to process that this was, in fact, reality. That she was not dreaming. That she was offered, out of nowhere, to meet Sonic the Hedgehog.

"...Well... if it wouldn't be a burden for him..."

"It won't, I promise!" Cream grinned cheerfully, and wasted no time in grabbing the equine's hand. "He makes new friends all the time! I'm sure he'll like you, Miss... Miss..."

"Lutrudis," the horse clarified, smiling once again. "Lutrudis Hadeer, to be precise. And please, there's no need for the title. Being with you is the real honor."

"Hee hee, that's such a lovely name!" Cream clapped her hands at the thought of it. "Don't you think so, Cheese?"

"Chao Chao!" Cheese cleverly pretended to know the meaning of it.

"Heh, well," Lutrudis started, as she tried her best not to be overwhelmed by the praise. "I suppose we ought to let them know as well that a certain Metal Rotter is on the loose, hmm?"

"Yes, of course!"

As Lutrudis got off the ground, and switched to standing upright once more, Cream's excitement temporarily halted as she noticed the look of exhaustion on her face, as though this simple act took a lot out of her. Before she could ask about it, the horse lightly fluttered her hand, as if to preemptively dismiss any concern.

"Phew," she muttered, and rubbed the side of her chest. "My apologies, I'm... not the fastest on my feet. Between you and me, my endurance has always stunk quite offensively. Far from Sonic's level, I'm sure."

Cream put her hands to her mouth, and nodded with full understanding. "Oh, I see. Sorry, Miss Hade-" She took a moment to catch herself, then let out a proud giggle. "Lutrudis."

The horse said nothing. Her smile was all that needed to be said.

---

Back to Intro...

To Prologue, Part II...

[juyomiao]

FIREWORK - park sunghoon x reader

masterlist - next

profiles ★ cup!ss

yn ynissocool / nuguvity / seongminily : used to have a cravity stan account until late 2022 and was known for picking fights with other fandoms (especially engenes) , now an idol under starship

CUP!D (큐피드) is a seven member girl group under Starship Entertainment. They officially debuted on June 23rd, 2023 with the single album Love Dive.

★ synopsis newly debuted 5th gen girl group CUP!D from starship entertainment is under everyone's eyes as their debut song 'love dive' goes viral both domestically and internationally ; all is going well until the group's main vocalist, y/n, gets exposed for her old stan… hate account?

☆ taglist (italics = couldn't tag) @rikitachquita @ikeulvr @roseidol @leep0ems @tocupid @skzeyeu @porcelain-moths @jiaant11 @philijack @ish4niii

[chaifootsteps]

hold up, is one of the people in those ss seriously claiming this is all entertainment to you? "it's definitely not out of respect to the people Viv allegedly hurt"??? What reason could you have outside of respect for their experiences to not post about what they told you?

if it was 'just entertainment' to you, then you would just post stuff anyway. how are the stans producing this level of double think where they claim you don't take things seriously when the one consistent factor motivating your actions is that you take things seriously

it also makes me wince to see fanartists who I thought were level headed say nothing about the posters making threats on their twitter. the HB fandom has really speedrun the race to the bottom that the worst fandoms take. at least other bad fandoms get that way in spite of their creator's wishes, HB is just becoming a mirror of all of Viv's own worst online habits. I'm so done with this, can't imagine how tired you must be

Exactly. If I were only in this for the entertainment, I'd dump everything in my Vivzie folder right now and watch the fireworks. But I want to see these people get justice in their time and on their terms, and that means sitting on a lot of stuff until they release it on their own or tell me I can.

So in short...

[luvrxbunny]

*cracks knuckles* I'm here to share thots. It me, I am the thot.

I'm knee deep in ovulation and you're going to enable my Miguel needs as you usually do.

At this very delicate phase of my cycle all I N E E D is to have that man like the prettiest toy known to man.

You cannot tell me the finest red Japanese silk rope tied in the most delicious shibari knots wouldn't look like magic against his skin?? because I know it would.

I also know that we'd both have fun, mainly me because with his full consent he's going to will over his autonomy to me.

He has no spidey tingle, each and every sense he has will be deprived for sake of unpredictability. Eyes? blindfolded , limbs? restrained, ears? the right requency of his thot music,that grump mouth? your panties have to go somewhere right?

God,I'd like to take my time and make that smart brain work so hard to think about what exactly could happen. I enjoy my big bad men needy, whiney... like they're not some kind of in control hardass outside the confines of our dynamic.

Call it the Sadomasocist in me but he seems like he deserves to be toyed with and edged, I don't but for the sake of science I'll play. The ending is always better when you have a man begging for even the wind to blow.

I'm a firm believer in 'salva un caballo ,monta un vaquero'. I'll catch a ride bare ss fvxk edging us both because I have that breeding kink that would top his with intention to procreate. I'll give him kids that actually belong to him so he doesn't have to collapse worlds, just the damn bed he's on. I'm nice that way.

But I know he has it in him to get out of those delicious restraints. He didn't at the height of everything but you cannot tell me pretty boy Miguel doesn't go dumb after a certain point. Nothing in that usually smarty brain besides the need to absolutely make sure he stuffs you like build bear.

I would love that power struggle for who gets to top but I'm benevolent, I'll let him win just to see the fireworks.

Fangs out and he's the one drooling, double points because there's cushion for the pushin for those big hands with cute claws to grip so he never has to go soft. I'm built to withstand everything that pvssy drunk dumb spidey can give.

If the term 'snatch his soul' was ever needed, it's now. I like possessing pretty little things and i love ruining big scary men.

Adieu Bunny baby 💋

WOOAAAAAH

i think this deserves to be her own post but TRUST i’m gonna need to say something abt how Miguel would go dumb halfway through cus omg— he so so would and he’s turn into the cutest little baby