#intrusive thoughts ss

[theeerealpunkin]

Something something Remus brainrot

[blitheringbongus]

The twins! I love them so much

[lucentel]

rewatching sanders sides in 2025 is crazy because what do you mean 12 year old me was obsessed with virgil and disliked remus when he was revealed and now six years later remus SHOT up the list at alarming speeds and i am mildly indifferent about virgil

[mybrainrotyourproblem]

Growing up is Roman originally being my favorite character cause I'm creative. Then it was Remus because his 1st episode helped me not be so hard on myself for my intrusive thoughts but now it's Logan.

He's the best at helping Thomas with his emotions despite not really liking or understanding emotions himself. He doesn't dismiss the others, namely Remus. When Remus is doing his best to annoy Logan (what seems to be entirely just to fuck with him) he still doesn't ignore or dismiss the side. He sees the merit in him even though everyone else just barely tolerates him at best (except Janus, they're besties and play DDR)

[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

[rinsoap]

THE BIG SEIJOH FOUR'S MUSIC TASTE!

this includes : oikawa tooru. matsukawa issei. iwaizumi hajime. hanamaki takahiro.

note : REMASTERED FROM THIS POST! im back from hiatus! (maybe) please enjoy some music headcanons while i scrape together inspiration for some actual works :p

OIKAWA TOORU

!!? you cannot tell me he isn't OBSESSED with kali uchis. he's been an og fan since her por vida era. i've been pushing the kuchi oikawa agenda for three years and i've been RIGHT for three years! he loves latin music and found out about kali when iwaizumi showed him an odd future song she was featured on. i'm ngl guys, being an "og" fan gave him a complex... wdym "name ten kali uchis songs" she's got 30 million monthly listeners. be fr.

his favourite songs by kali uchis are:

☆ gotta get up - interlude on the isolation album. ☆ moral conscience on the red moon in venus album. ☆ no eres tu(soy yo) on the sin miedo album.

!!? daniel ceaser die hard fan. he loves his on the low bisexual rnb artists, what can he say? he'll listen to freudian on REPEAT, like all ten minutes just looping while he goes through the five stages of grief. iwaizumi called him immediately when he learned daniel was on the new tyler the creator album, they were GEEKED.

his favourite songs by daniel ceaser are:

☆ do you like me? on the NEVER ENOUGH album. ☆ take me away on the freudian album. ☆ LOVE AGAIN on the CASE STUDY 01 album.

HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: tonight by summer walker. 360 by charli xcx. get back by britney spears. WAR! by DESTIN CONRAD. sunshine by steve lacy & foushée.

MATSUKAWA ISSEI

!!? #1 frank ocean dick rider. he's actually so annoying it's crazy. type of fan to beg for him to make more music but has barely listened to his pre-blonde albums. type of fan to say "what do y'all know about frank ocean?". type of fan to say "frank ocean mentioned 🤓☝️" whenever someone says one of his song titles in everyday conversations (this might be me).

his favourite songs by frank ocean are:

☆ sierra leone on the channel ORANGE album. ☆ nights on the blonde album. ☆ songs for women on the nostalgia, ULTRA album.

!!? him and makki are crazy underground fans, it's actually not even funny. iwaizumi found out and was like "oh i love the underground, my favourite rapper is MFDOOM, whose urs?" and they were like, "umm Ken Carson 😄" what "the underground" technically is is genuinely a sore subject in the friend group LMFAO

his favourite songs by ken carson are:

☆ murda musik (ft. destroy lonely) on the X album. ☆ ss on the a great chaos (deluxe) album. ☆ yale on the teen X album.

HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: of course you won't by lucki. paper soldier by brent faiyaz. purity by A$AP rocky & frank ocean. forgiveless by SZA & dirty ol' bastard. father stretch my hands pt. 1 by kanye west.

IWAIZUMI HAJIME

!!? tyler the creator's #1 fan wdym?!!? goblin era apologist typa fan. "no guys, like, it was supposed to be his intrusive thoughts!" they faces killing me why no one gaf 😭 chromakopia glazer and he knows it! (valid) he was there during the odd future era, like dude was writing OFWGKTA on his desk in sharpie omg.

his favourite songs by tyler, the creator are:

☆ WILSHIRE on the CALL ME IF YOU GET LOST album. ☆ lone on the wolf album. ☆ A BOY IS A GUN on the IGOR album.

!!? are we surprised he's a kendrick lamar fan? this was so obvious to me like no other option. relatively new fan, but everyone thinks he's been listening to him since 2011 because he's so obsessed and knows so many songs by HEART. gets into daily debates with mattsun over whether gkmc or tpab is better.

his favourite songs by kendrick lamar are:

☆ DUCKWORTH. on the DAMN. album. ☆ momma on the to pimp a butterfly album. ☆ backseat freestyle on the good kid, m.A.Ad. city album.

HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: benzo by blood orange. sunday by earl sweatshirt & frank ocean. talk my shit by childish gambino, flo milli & amaarae. housten old head by a$ap rocky. CYANIDE by daniel ceaser.

HANAMAKI TAKAHIRO

!!? charli xcx superfan dont play! he started listening to her through brat, but he enjoys her older songs better. he likes electronic type of music, but he likes to say he fucks with anything that "goes crazy". him and oikawa almost exclusively listen to charli when they're together and mattsun says it drives him crazy, but everyone knows he's mouthing the lyrics to to girl, so confusing.

his favourite songs by charli xcx are:

☆ claws on the how i'm doing now album. ☆ sympathy is a knife on the brat album. ☆ unlock it (lock it) [ft. kim petras & jay park) on the pop 2 album.

!!? like i mentioned, him and mattsun are annoying underground fans. so let me talk about their other goat, destroy lonely. these mfs are the type to try and start moshpits and fail miserably. they like to say "what do y'all know about lone?" but only like his most popular songs.

his favourite songs by destroy lonely are:

☆ VETERAN ft. ken carson on the NOSTYLIST album. ☆ bane (single). ☆ LUV 4 YA on the LOVE LASTS FOREVER album.

HONOURABLE SONG MENTIONS: glory boy by lucki. tears in the club by fka twigs & the weeknd. immaterial by SOPHIE. nightcore by ken carson. codeine vision by chris travis.

[bahngarang]

chapter 9.0 ☆ imposter syndrome

ss: 18

wc: 829

cw: food mentions, mentions of physical fighting

a/n: I lost two years of my life trying to edit that photo if it looks bad don't tell me (also the initials l . y are l/n y/n if you're confused)

"okay, okay, hear me out," minji paused, chewing a heroically sized mouthful of pizza, holding her finger up as if to hold her place in the conversation.

it went on for just long enough to be awkward, and yn took a sip of their soda – as if they weren't already stewing in a pool of their own embarrassment at this whole situation. and it was embarrassing, to say the least. how long would it have taken them to get to this point if not for some... some bitch trying to steal their soulmates? honestly, yn thought they would have the opposite reaction to this sort of thing. the other yn – she was pretty, able-bodied from what they could tell, and she seemed remarkably put together. a far cry from their own life. she seemed to be everything yn wanted for their soulmates.

well, except for the fact that she was almost undoubtedly a sasaeng. stray kids' management had gone to great lengths not to show their soul marks, but there had been a few slip-ups over the years, and despite their best efforts, it had come out that the group were soulmates – and that there was one more person included. that came with a lot of failed attempts of stalkers trying their best to convince they boys that they were their soulmate. up until now, it had always been fairly mediocre attempts, and/or easy to see through. it was different this time, almost indistinguishable from yn's own (before the accident).

but apart from that, theoretically, she was perfect for them. and yn... wasn't. but that didn't stop the pit of frustration burning deep in their stomach – frustration at themselves, mostly, at the world, and everything else. although, that last one was the more general ire for living made worse by this whole debacle.

sometimes, privately, yn wondered if it really was just a big coincidence, if they really were their last soulmate. it just felt like they... didn't fit. and, just occasionally, they wished it was that way – although, not really. they didn't know the others, and didn't really know how to feel about them just yet, but the idea of chan being with someone else made yn's chest clench painfully.

"what if," minji started again, "what if you showed up at the company building with like, one of those massive rose bouquets and blasting a sad song on your boombox?"

"well, first of all," yn said, "where are the funds for this rose bouquet? with the price of everything these days, i'm not sure i even have enough for twelve. secondly, a boombox? how old do you think i am? contrary to apparently popular belief, i do not have a boombox. and, you know, i think security wouldn't let me within 50 metres of the building."

"darn."

the quiet clicking of lego pieces broke the silence between the poignant lack of ideas in the brainstorming session. it was difficult, coming up with a way to explain to your best friend that you'd been hiding the fact that you were his last soulmate that made you look least like a buffoon. it was unavoidable, looking like an idiot, but surely there had to be a way too minimize the damage, right?

it wasn't going very well so far.

yn sighed heavily to themselves. any angle you looked at it, it was bad. the problem being self aware was exactly that – being self aware. the second-hand embarrassment at their own actions had suddenly hit them like a freight train early that morning during classes. it had not been a pleasant day, with every free moment spent shrivelling into their own skin in a very visceral reaction. god, it was just... ugh.

the doorbell rung out through their apartment, breaking the spell that had fallen over the three of them. bingus trotted in, complaining loudly at the intrusion. his fur was all scruffed up, indicative of his 47th nap of the day that he'd just been rudely awoken from.

chika furrowed her brows, glancing in the direction of the door. "you got a package coming or something?"

"uhh... not to my knowledge..." bingus jumped up onto yn's lap, circling a few times before climbing up onto their shoulders like a parrot. chika reached over to brush his fur back into place, eliciting a deep, crackly purr as he pushed his face against her hand. "i'll go see who it is..."

yn stood up tentatively, gently supporting bingus's ass so he didn't fall off during the process, before walking over to the door, grabbing the keys off the hook next to it and unlocking it.

"hey," minho said conversationally, like he hadn't just shown up at yn's door unceremoniously.

"hi," yn mumbled, forcing the word out. they couldn't decide where to look, the doorframe taken up by not only minho, but seungmin and hyunjin as well, the other two appearing at least a little more awkward about the situation.

"we know."

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a/n: if you're wondering I do find joy in torturing people with cliff hangers

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[quantumlogician]

Incoming Transmission [@sparkflower-fields] —

Starscream had been peacefully lounging in his hab, clicking through the various channels on his live screen, sucking on mini energon cubes like juice filled candies, when he received an instant message to the group chat between him and his trine. .:SW: Screams, me and TC have a bet for you.:. .:TC: Don’t drag me into this.:. .:SS: Whatever it is, forget about it. I’m not interested in whatever moronic scheme you both have in mind.:. .:TC: HEY I said leave me out of it!:. .:SW: Fine, I guess Screamer is just too much of a glitch. Too scared of Shockwave.:. The last message made him pause his show and sit up, his attention fully trained onto the group chat. Glitch? Scared? Absolutely not, no, he would not be taking that scrap from his idiotic trine. .:SS: I am not SCARED of Shockwave. However, you two slag helms should be scared of ME should you continue your slander. Make your bet, I will humor you only this once.:. .:TC: Ugh… whatever.:. .:SW: We bet, that you can’t go into Shockwave’s hab and make out with him. The full package. Like how TC used to play glossa wrestling with any mech that would give him the time of cycle in Academy.:. .:TC left the group chat:. .:SW invited TC to the group chat:. .:SS: Fine. You’re going to lose this bet. I can have anyone I want, Shockwave included. When I win I expect you both to be here ready to give me a full spa treatment.:. .:SW: Sure sure. But when we win, you owe us a favor. To be determined at a later date >:) :. Starscream didn’t even read that last message, as he had already bolted up from his lounging position on his berth and began cleaning himself up. Normally he wouldn’t have cared much, seeing as he kept himself fairly polished and clean. But for some reason he felt the need to pretty himself. And pretty himself he did. Almost like a bird preening itself, he swiped gloss over his wings in a clearly expert manner, having done this millions of times before. He did the same with every bit of plating that he could see needed touching up, and added a bit of shimmer to it as well. Not much, but a touch of it to make him look almost ethereal when the light hit him just right. He had taken a bit too long staring at himself in the mirror, wondering if this was enough, or too much, and before he knew it, it was almost curfew. He felt a pit in his tanks form as he ran to the door and stopped. Did he want to go through with this? The thought lingered for a moment, permeating his processor like an echo. But he pushed it out of his way. He would not doubt himself on this, he would prove himself a desirable candidate for a fling with the scientist and he would earn his spa day, one way or another. Before he knew it, he was racing out the door of his comfortable hab and beelining straight to Shockwave’s lab, where he punched in the door override code, meant only for emergencies, and barged right in. Lucky for him, Shockwave was still in the throes of scientific discovery as he strutted up to the work area that he was diligently busying himself at. “Pardon my intrusion, Shockwave.” He said in his most apologetic tone, leaning a lithe hip against another table that was unoccupied by the scientist. “I found myself… in desperate need of your company.” He said as if it were a shy confession, turning his helm away acting like he didn’t want to meet the other’s gaze out of sheepishness. For the most part it was all an act, but a small piece of him felt… nervous.

There was a shift in the lumbering mood of this ship's cabin. Shockwave ignored it, pushing on in his endeavors and writing off the warning as lack of sleep clawing at his heels. Not for lack of deadline to meet. He wanted to get as much headway as possible in current projects to have them all docked for approval by week's end.

That was his goal, painstakingly outlined one bullet item at a time. He had forgone time estimations after finding that they were busy work than they were useful. When it came to his own work, there was no timeline he could predictably follow other than working off temperature reads by the cycle. No method other than knowing when he can bully into anyone's schedule a short meeting, a fast pitch, or divine when someone might request something.

His focus was a knife's edge; sharp and honed. Shockwave would have very much like to keep it that way until he heard the soft hiss of doors parting and steel clicks encroach his territory.

" Pardoned. " He said, but didn't mean.

Without sparing a look at a wandered-and-lost Seeker, he suspended him in absolute silence while he dotted every ' i ' and crossed every ' t' on his notes. Not bothering to respond until he punctuated the last line of notes.

" Whatever you need my immediate help for, you can find equivalent, if not, more suitable assistance down at the medbay, " he turns heel, back fully to him as he crosses the room, slamming shut the ventilator hood before this one vents in toxic fumes.

" You already know that, so speak. What do you want? "

[azrielgreen]

I just re-read the latest chapter of SS because I’m an adult and I do what I want and I have thoughts about Eddie telling Steve to slap him and that he likes it and I remembered that scene where Steve was talking about his intrusive thoughts about hurting people and I have no idea if this was intentional at all or if I’m reaching here, but I kind of really love that Eddie has maybe created this safe space for Steve to explore that????

I love that you're re-reading it already and yes, that's intentional on Eddie's part💜🦂🌃✨️

[theeerealpunkin]

Patton, somewhere to the side: *incredibly distressed puppy sounds*

Janus: *vaguely intrigued, knowing this is a bad idea but too curious about the outcome to stop them* no no, don't mind him. Go on

[password-door-lock]

“Come here,” Unknown instructs you in a low tone that he hopes sounds inviting. Now that he’s delivered his monologue, all he needs to do is get you back to Magenta in one piece. “You wanted to help me, hm? You were so eager to talk to me before. So you should help me out by listening well.” 

You bite your lip. It’s hard to tell whether you’ve just betrayed your nerves or your boldness, but either way, Unknown is disproportionately entertained. He likes that he can’t read you, that despite his extensive research, you’re still able to surprise him. “I– Where are we going?” It’s the first full sentence that you’ve managed since he arrived. 

“It’s a surprise,” says Unknown, “For Christmas. Now… come here. Are you going to make me keep asking?” 

“Okay,” you nod, suddenly brave. You make your way over to Unknown. It’s clear that you’re unsure of him, which is probably fairly healthy— after all, he did just break into a place that you view as your home, even if you are here only with his blessing. 

“That’s it,” he coos, “What a nice present you’re going to be for me.” He just can’t help himself. Unknown has been daydreaming about this moment for weeks, planning out the types of things he might say. He still isn’t sure yet whether he wants you in particular or just somebody to control, but he’d be lying to himself, were he to claim that he wasn’t excited about this situation. 

You blush. “You’re really straightforward. Um… maybe they should… start teaching manners classes at hacking school. Just, for everybody’s benefit.” But for somebody so flustered, you sure are eager to go along with Unknown’s plan. Nothing is stopping you from turning around and bolting for the door, yet here you are, walking toward him. 

“Should they, now, prince(ss)?” Unknown chuckles. He has an unfair advantage, because your delayed arrival left him with a lot of time to plot and plan for this eventuality. He also knows you a lot better than you know him, which certainly doesn’t hurt. 

“Well, I mean… I guess you already know that kidnapping is against the law,” you reason, “But I thought you might not know how rude it is, considering you’re… attempting it. I think? Unless you’re like, asking me to be your Christmas present, but if that’s the case, I feel like you should’ve asked sooner? I mean, I would’ve said yes, but what if I said no? Then it would’ve been better if you hadn’t bothered to come here. Well, unless you were planning on taking me anyway, but that’s kidnapping, and like I said, I feel like you have to know that’s a crime. And only a criminal would knowingly commit a crime.”

You’re clearly tired, and it would take an idiot not to notice that you’re full of adrenaline thanks to Unknown’s intrusion into your peaceful holiday. Even so, your rambling is quite entertaining, and blessedly, you’re playing right into Unknown’s hands. “Ah, but that doesn’t matter,” Unknown points out. “I’m not kidnapping you, since you’re coming with me on your own.” 

Before you can think of a rebuttal, Unknown reaches into the pocket of his suit jacket and withdraws a red plastic bow. He carefully removes the paper covering the sticky part and slaps it gently onto your forehead. 

“What?” You seem shocked, which is endearing. 

“I told you,” Unknown feigns a pout just for fun. You don’t seem at all put off by this. “You’re my Christmas present. Now, come on… let’s go find our paradise, hm?” 

“Sure, whatever,” you shrug, accepting his extended hand and following his lead out of the apartment.

[goodlittlefangirl]

I know exactly how I would rape your ass and it would be so good for a little whore like you I would wait till you fell deep asleep maybe I would mix something into your drink before bed to make sure you stay down when you finally are fully asleep I would softly and carefully pull off the oversized shirt you wore becasue that's all you want to wear anyway and then tie you face down to the bed with your legs spread and your hands above your head making sure the knots were tight so you couldn't break free and I would slowly push my hard cock into your needy cunt letting you get used to me and not waking up taking my time getting you wet around me slowly fucking you in your sleep till you feel like you are about to cum around me you are so wet and then I would stop and make you cockwarm me while I preped your other hole and leave your cunt wanting right on that edge even asleep before using a finger coated in your wetness to start prepping your ass and once you were stretched enough I would pull all the way out leaving your cunt empty and dripping and my cock soaked with your juices before slowly forcing my way in feeling the head pop past that tight ring and slowly forcing you to take me even thought its to big and hurts you can't wake up and your so wet and needy you want it even in your sleep and I would wait till I had made it all the way inside you pause for just a moment then pull almost all the way out before slamming back in again and fucking your ass hard and fast not caring I'd you wake up (if you even could) using you like a fleshlight knowing it will hurt and you will be sore in the morning makes it better as I slam in and out of your ass before I finally push in one last time moaning as I go balls deep in your ass before cumming so much it feels like your whole ass is full of liquid and when you wake up hurting and with an intrusion still in your ass when you get up you see writing on your chest in sharpie and realize what happed... it says "leave the plug in when you go to bed or you won't get lube next time" -ss

Hehe I love this~ you should also me awake tho so you can hear me cry and beg you to stop 🥰

[shrodeigners-sexdrive]

Howdy,

This blog is where I post mostly my horny intrusive thoughts/ my general thoughts about sex or TMI topics.

Me:

My name is James,

I use he/him pronouns.

[If you saw another name or set of pronouns- No you didn't <3.]

You can call me James, Shrodeigner, Shro, or SS [any other pet names or terms of endearments are also perfectly welcome!]

Im 18, Trans [ftm], and demi all the way down. But i enjoy sex and thinking about sex. Along with connecting with people over sex and sexual attraction!

I have tourettes!! And honestly alot of other issues that dont need to be unpacked. But like - bottom line if you dont believe ticc disorders [involuntarily verbal and physical movement disorders] exist you should block me.

I also love media and media analysis, so if you want to talk about nerd shit, deffo hit me up about that. [Personally a huge fan of Star Trek, COD, and LOTR]

DNI IF : You're a minor, a pedo, a zoophile, condone student/teacher relationships outside of fantasy roleplay, ableist, condone incest, or last but not least are a terf.

Basically be a decent and respectful person, who is also a legal adult and we're chill. If you do not meet my standard for that, I will block liberally.

[more under cut]

Kinks:

I'm openly a freak/porn blog [whatever term you prefer.] There will be kink content.

Yes:

Pet play

Primal play

Power dynamics

Body worship

T4T

Praise

Slight pain play

Religious kink

Scent

Maybe:

Somno

Soft CNC

Humiliation

Degradation

Blood

Piss

Corruption

No:

Mutilation

Torture

Gore

Scat

Feederism

!!These are subject to change!!

Firstly, I am pretty new to kink in general. And to sex. So my preferences will most likely change, i will update as that progresses.

DMs and Asks!

DMs: Absolutely! Feel free to DM me, but do know I may not answer you back!

Asks: Also absolutely. This is a freak blog so feel free to ask me whatever you want!

#shrodeigner barking : This is mostly rants rambles and thoughts, less likely to be explicitly horny, more likely to have opinions. If i reblog a thing and its got my opinion attached theres also a chance it will be tagged.

Tags

[remember to use the tag filters located in settings!]

#personal barking : I've been tagging my rants, and rambles this; more specifically when i talk about my own personal life, and how things have affected me. So like- lived experiences and life updates.

#🦴💬 : this is what I've started tagging the petplay stuff i reblog

#Howling @ asks : ask answers

#Shrodeigner Howling : stuff i find particularly hot, or that has made me feel feral

[pumpkinfox]

When drawing motivation comes back :>

Go my scrab. Man, we love drawin for hours without a break :>

also the text effects are hand made not with a cool font.

[uhhhhhh rant about the goober below bc holy its long]

Pumpkin is his name. Yep roll credits. I'm just messing with you, when trying to make a LT!Version of one of my old goobers I wanted it to be simple and not over the top painful to draw later on. I might be drawin his two friends later down the line. You can find him at the manor or on the train.

Now as for his weapons, what's up with that? Well person who's readin this. That is because he is from 3 different games. The games being Kit Battle [I have a personal grudge against someone there] and Batting Day [game doesn't exist anymore]. The Light Spear is ofc a direct reference to undyne's own spears and work the exact same. Anyone can hold the spears or even keep them if they rip it from the ground before they fade away. The Bat is from BD as its entire gimmick was to launch whoever was hit by it far while applying the ragdoll effect. That's all it ever did.

He is interactable with. You can talk to him about just weapon stats or tips of what it could do. If you do find his other two friends you can spar with them all or one on one fight. If its the spar against him uh all the silly below.

For passives we got:

Anti up

Charge

Power Rush

Defend +

Power Rush

For attacks we got:

Swing [5 dmg single] [Walks up to you and takes a swing with the bat]

Piercing line [all hit 5 dmg] [works like Fear's shockwave but faster and with Light Spears]

Spear Throw [all hit 5 dmg] [exactly like what it says, he throws a Light Spear at you all]

Taunt [feel fine self]

If a quarter of hp left we got:

Rage [charge up self]

Slash [10 dmg single] [Runs up to you and takes a quick swing with the bat]

Batter up [multi hit 2, changes targets. Inflicts burn 3 if hit] [uses 2 mini fire balls and bats them like baseballs at two randoms]

Judgement [hit all 10 dmg] [orange will glow under everyone and LS's will stab out the ground]

Rampage [ multi 4 hit 15 dmg each] [Charges at everyone like Sentient Statue, then throws 3 Light Spears at everyone]

For stats we got:

HP: 40

DEF: 2

SS: 35

Ima keep it real, if you use the Kiss card the fight just ends aka its like using prayer when Hatred's 20hp.

If you do win against him he gives you 100 TIX and a baked whale and yes this also applies for the insta win.

For things he says during the fight:

I wont be going easy. [start of fight]

Done already? [lost 1st time]

Come back again some other time! [lost 2nd time or more]

Beginners luck... [won on first try]

Not letting the others know about this one. [won on 2nd attempt or more]

Wh... uhhhh. [Use Kiss card to end fight]

When below 25 hp:

Enough games! [moment he hits 25 hp]

Cheap tricks won't help you now! [Kiss card cant end fight now]

If you don't choose to fight and just talk, below is his dialog.

When just talking to him:

Ever wonder what its like to let your intrusive thoughts win?

Well don't because I'm stuck with two dummies.

Its not that I dislike them, no. I just want them to stop getting in trouble so much.

Talking to him again:

I wonder if I let my intrusive thought win most of the time...

... I think I would be on the run if I did.

Maybe sometimes you should let your fists persuade them. not all the time will they accept attention.

Now then, will the other two be this long of a rant? Yes, yes they will and I will suffer writing it.

Also the no colors block was a mistake on my part so uhhhhhhh woops DX

[rejectedgamer]

Random shower thought that came from thinking about TADC and SS What if the reason Virgil has a green eye as a puppet is because having anxiety can give you intrusive thoughts?

[mentallydeadwithabl00dynose]

Maybe not but atleast this mf would acknowledge that there's literally smth wrong with me and NOT brush it off by being all like "Oh you don't have abandonment issues, you're just happy to see your friends" (i legit told them i feel sick when i'm not around them..) "Oh your intrusive thoughts are nothing serious, you're just hyperfixated because you know, it's your autism" (I legit told them i had intrusive thoughts of being SA'ed by a SS officer) and allat BS; he'd actually acknowledge i'm whack in the head bc if i wasn't whack in the head; this tumblr post wouldn't even exist. "CAMHS isn't THAT bad, bffr" either you were blessed or you never stepped foot in CAMHS.