#Predicament Of Mankind

[nothingbutthetruth]

Club of Rome's "Predicament Of Mankind" Project 1972

#club of rome #Predicament Of Mankind #limits to growth

[ashersanity]

— “SWEET LIKE NECTAR.”

— summary. because to whitney, there’s nothing prettier, downright satisfying to gaze upon the rosy cheeks you adopt in response to the invasive questioning, that pride of yours so amusing to patiently chip away at, piece by piece. in fact, if you could, you’d evade it altogether though that would mean defeat, wouldn’t it? and there’s nothing you detest more in this shitty world than to fucking lose.

— content warning! incest, step-cest, dub-con, coaxing, anal fucking, cream-pie, nipple sucking, lots of uh.. dirty talking, I got carried away there, big brother whitney gets a taste of his own medicine, male reader turned bastard himself, the shittiest writing known to mankind. this is a continuation to the first part ‘it’s all in the family’ which you can find here. third part is here.

— word count? I freestyled that shit once again in the notes app, it is my sanctuary and you cannot take it away from me, alright?

— asher’s note. “I find that revenge is only proper and that sometimes, you need to take matters into your own hands and fuck your stupid, arrogant, big brother. balls deep.”

Moreover, you should’ve probably have expected this one measly question to slip past your older brother’s lips, leering gaze openly taking your conflicted expression in as if taunting you to properly answer. You wouldn’t lie to me, would you? ‘Course not, like you could anyway. He’d see right past it like he usually does, testing the waters — he’d call it, laying out the fresh bait for your conscious little self to latch onto immediately.

Because to Whitney, there’s nothing prettier, downright satisfying to gaze upon the rosy cheeks you adopt in response to the invasive questioning, that pride of yours so amusing to patiently chip away at, piece by piece. In fact, if you could, you’d evade it altogether though that would mean defeat, wouldn’t it?

And there’s nothing you detest more in this shitty world than to fucking lose.

Especially to this one bastard. Too damn nosy to discreetly mind his own business, y’know? Always the one to hover too close for comfort, bated breath feathering delicately against the soft skin of your flushed ear, to keep you tightly on edge. Long past that, it’s starting to get on your nerves how self-assured he is in his flawed reasoning, simply since he had you sloppily suck him off once on the worn couch and now, it’s what? Only natural to drag you around like some sort of thoughtless puppy? Shamelessly refer to you as his trained, little bitch who’ll get on his knees for the right price?

Gotta be fucking kidding then.

It was the alcohol. Nothing, but the intoxicating substance drumming along your veins that had you act in such a debauched manner, had your painfully hard cock straining against the front of your pants. Yeah. Right? That’s all there was to it. Nothing more.

At least, that’s what you keep insistently reminding yourself of despite the growing, churning heat in your stomach, the not-so-subtle twitching of your hardening cock stirring beneath your ripped jeans or the individual droplets of sweat gently trickling down the navel of your slouched back. Alright, keep fucking lying to yourself then. Surely that’ll help you with your current predicament that you’ve stuck yourself into, muddied foot deep within the shallow trenches and a solid grasp firmly placed around your ankle, threatening to snap your dignity in half.

“Well?” Visibly irritated by your lack of answer, it’s Whitney’s increasingly impatient, snappy voice that unfortunately draws you back from your spiralling calculations — whether to respond with the humiliating truth or not. Can’t let it go, can he? Hence why he so nonchalantly has you sat on his used bed, the rusted springs hidden beneath the dusty mattress alerting your every subtle movement with a distinct creak reverberating through the thin walls.

“Well, what?” Idiot, you know very damn well what he’s getting at, it’s not like you suffer from some sort of amnesiac disease to utilise cluelessness and have him fooled with such blatant tactics.

“You’re a virgin, aren’t you?” Should be wiping that snide, awful smirk that instantly appears on his face as he carelessly articulates the question once more. Shameless in his pursuit, hungrily eyeing you up and down like an untouched piece of meat to greedily feast upon, sink his pearly, white fangs into.

Oh, thank the heavens that you weren’t consuming any sort of liquid right this moment because it would’ve been shot straight out of your throat, maybe your nose even considering the absurd sentence from your very own brother — step-brother, to be exact. Still in denial that you two could potentially call each other family, far too homely of a term than the puzzling relationship you both share. Speaking of, you haven’t replied to his question yet and by the looks of it, he isn’t looking too pleased with you if you were to stretch this on any further than it should be.

“N-No, I’ve actually fucked my fair share of girls.” Oh yeah, he’s definitely believing you with that stuttering, the uncertainty all too evident in your tone that only a complete, utter moron would’ve fallen for it. Fucking liar. It wasn’t as though you were entirely lying though, having indeed fucked a girl before, but does it really count if that same person were to be your younger sister, Kylar? At most, you’ve had your decent amount of experiences with others, dated a few girls here and there which is to be acceptable for the average boy of your age. However, beyond the intimate acts of holding hands and bashful kissing, you remained oblivious to the process of well, sex — save for the over the top, raunchy porn you’d occasionally watch and that sole encounter with Kylar that taught you far more than any cheap film ever could.

So, it’s still reasonable, is it not? Though this is Whitney you’re directly dealing with and you know better than to assume he’d take plain ‘no’ for an answer, often brash in his selfish desires. No, more like every time whenever he does act, it leads up to the very same, repetitive situation you’ve familiarized yourself to. You, beneath him. You, helpless in the face of his cruel actions.

Not this time though — fuck, that nasty, little scheme of yours slowly, but ever so surely lurking within the depths of your working mind, grateful for the blonde’s clear ignorance of the shit you were ready to commit to regain that minuscule shred of dignity back. None the wiser, preferring it’d remain that way.

And he can only sharply scoff back to your half-assed attempt at muttering obvious falsehoods. Too cunning of a bastard and god, does it mess with you. “Bullshit. You think I’d believe that? Fuckin’ cmon, admit it. You’ve never really fucked a girl before, huh?” That sickening, creeping nausea steadily filling the depths of your guts from the way he so arrogantly taunts you through his ‘light-hearted’ insults, inadvertently painting you as some sort of virgin loser that never so much as had the slightest chance of growing affectionate with another woman. Fucked your goddamn sister so that’s a one-up on you, huh? Hell, you know better than to let such an obscene admission escape you — since she’s your sister now too, that innocence you so greedily stripped away that one faithful evening within the four corners of her room.

Rather not indulge in such sinful thoughts at the moment, not when your prolonged silence is only confirming his self-righteous suspicions to which he so stubbornly convinced himself of. Knowing better than to reason with your older brother, it’s merely when you do finally relent with a reluctant nod of your head — still maintaining a thin layer of deceit, mind you — that his smug grin widens considerably in return. “So you’re an unused slut, basically.” Choice of words never was the delinquent’s forte, but his crude, frank vocabulary certainly is as he so eloquently puts it. “Hah — I fuckin’ knew it. Wouldn’t be cumming so quickly if you weren’t.” He huffs back in amusement at the sight of your apparent fluster, always so damn squirmy whenever he playfully pokes fun at one of your concealed insecurities. Oh, you really don’t know the dizzying effect you have on him, do you?

The numerous nights spent lazily fisting the base of his cock underneath the woollen covers placed over his bare, sweating body to at the very least obscure his depraved actions — not that he cared much whether he was scandalously caught or not. Much so, he’d prefer if it were you to ‘coincidentally’ walk in on him mid-jerk off session, lend a helping hand to big brother and let him use you however he saw fit. Fuck, yeah. That’d aid him in his ever growing lust for you, borderline animalistic in how he addictively sought you out as expected, like a sweet, sweet drug longing to be taken. A sweet nectar freshly ripe for the taking, plucked free from the gracious buds of the tree to gratefully sink his fangs into and savour the refreshing taste lingering on his tongue.

Feels so right to defile your prudish self, doesn’t it? So, don’t blame him then. Don’t blame him when he suggests — no, coldly orders you to strip off your damn pants which prompts another gaping stare of yours to the sudden command. Handsome, but so, so clueless, aren’t you? Needs to tell you to do everything for your sluggish brain to eventually catch up to his ever approaching rhythm, cocky grin plastered onto his lips signalling that your step-brother is indeed not kidding around as per usual.

“What’re you waitin’ for? I said, strip.” It’s not a gentle reminder nor a well-intentioned push in the right direction, it’s a repeated warning of his thinly veiled frustrations peeking its way through, past the useless restraints he placed onto himself when he could easily be given what he’s wanted. Not without force, though that is in Whitney’s nature to be as rough as possible, having grown accustomed to things going his way whenever he inevitably turned to bloodied brutality. After all, the bully doubts so himself that you don’t furtively desire this all the same too, conflicted movements headed towards the leathered loop of your belt as you willingly comply as tasked to. Good boy, knew you had it in y’a.

“Do I really gotta do this?” If it weren’t for the pretty, pink flush adorning the entirety of your face right now, your older brother would’ve definitely snapped back with a snarky remark of his own, however the sight itself is enough to let him have your dumb self uselessly hope a little further. What does it look like, little brother? Has Whitney ever backtracked on his truthful words?

“Yeah, you gotta cuz’ I told you to. Now just fuckin’ do it already, slut. I don’t got all day.”

“..Fine.” Having fully predicted such a response, heavy shoulders slouching lazily in defeat from the refusal, you shyly carry on with the clumsy strip tease of yours. Can never get your way with him, can y’a?

Goddamn it, shamefully reprimanding yourself for even following suit to his harsh retort though, can you really blame yourself? He’s got you — fucking, trained you like a dog. That’s what it is, a stupid, dumb mutt that can’t help but intrinsically cave in to its depraved instincts as his rightful owner happily taught him to, mindlessly huffing and wagging its fluffy tail to the sugary sweet praise whispered to him. Conditioning you to his every whim as a promising, rewarding treat awaiting in exchange for your dutiful obedience, not bothering to keep your remaining underwear either. Big brother knows best, huh? Look at that pitiful expression etched along your features, averting gaze straying away from his piercing own that’s settled precisely on the drooling tip of your fat, twitching cock dribbling out an alarming amount of pre-cum. How you resist the underlying temptation to automatically press your legs together, denying Whitney of that upfront, perverted view of your spread thighs. So damn easy to get you riled up in a matter of seconds when a tight, warm hole is involved in the filthy equation.

As ensured, you’ll receive as you wish, pup. Only natural to fulfill what you so gravely desire when you’ve been so good so far, right? Offer you the bearing fruits of your well-earned efforts in return while you thoughtlessly salivate over the mere idea, yeah?

“Whitney, this is kinda embarrassing..” Kinda? Practically humiliating to display yourself so lewdly like this, however not as if you hadn’t experienced this rarely either in the past few weeks that steadily transpired. Should’ve grown used to it by now, actually. Still, the lingering shyness of brazenly exposing yourself like this was too much to bear at times, especially with the other’s daunting ogling. Really has to unabashedly eye-fuck you every single time or something. It’s.. somewhat flattering to be thoroughly appreciated like this despite instinctively knowing it’s out of pure, utter objectification.

Aimlessly losing yourself in the middle of your straying thoughts, it’s the recurring shuffling of fabric carelessly being thrown onto the wooden, creaking floor that draws you back to the hazy reality before you. Fuck, a wet dream is a far more suitable term with how this is stereotypically playing out, the confident, sure movements of your older brother’s calloused hands busying themselves with the hem of his waistband and — oh, he’s surely tugging his sweats down, okay. His.. fucking dick, god — how didn’t you conveniently notice how rock hard his cock was beneath that cotton thin material? Leaving you to breathlessly gawk at the free view of Whitney’s drooling tip roughly smacking against the tensed muscles of his stomach, briefly connecting strings of pre-cum to meld with his cooling sweat. Retaking that relaxed, slouched position along the single bed as if he isn’t currently stark naked in front of your unmoving eyes. That distracting to you, huh? Horny mutt.

“Like what you see, slut?” That fucking conceited tone of his makes you want to respond with anything but an affirmative yes, though through the thick lump you swallow down your throat, it’s the muted nod of your head that further serves him to grin widely in satisfaction. Wanna prove him wrong so badly, so damn so. Yet, how can you when he’s shown you all the reasons not to?

Should’ve been paying closer attention then, baby brother. How your brain immediately shuts off in a haze of confusion, numbing static prickling at your empty mind once the blonde instead settles himself comfortably onto your awaiting lap. “Fuckin’ nice seat.” Would’ve been a more comedic remark if it weren’t for the provoking press of his bare ass flush against your pulsing cock, questionably twitching in approval from the brief physical contact. Christ, get a grip on yourself, you moron but, oh — Fuck. You could just.. fucking slip it in and it wouldn’t hurt to let Whitney take the lead as predicted, greedily relish in the slippery warmth fervently welcoming you? Since at the end of the day, you’re just a man, no? A simple man with stupidly horny urges and needs to gratefully sink his cock into the nearest wet hole that merely happens to be his big brother’s whorish one.

Still, that portion of your mind beckons you to reason along with the weirdly alluring pull of plainly muttering out fuck it, shove it in and— and, do the nastiest shit possible, y’know? Yeah, you should do it. Actually, no. No way in fucking hell should you proceed with it. Uselessly humping your hips upwards with a sickening jolt that draws a relieving sigh from the both of you. Stop it, you pervert. You’ve become no better than him, have you?

“W-What’re you doing..?” Is all you can pathetically muster to his blatantly obvious actions, knowing full well what he’s truly doing. Riling you up. Teasing along the edges of your withering limits till it collapses fully onto the ground. It’s what he does best, driving you insane on the daily from school, to outside, to home and his room you frequently pay visits to at night.

“What does it look like I’m doin’? I’m about to fuck your cute cock, pretty boy.” Pretty. Ah, that shouldn’t be your main focus with how he announces it so casually, essentially admitting he’s planning to ride you. Struggling to grasp onto the foreign concept of him, well— being on the receiving end of sex. Doesn’t he like, usually prefer to be the one in the dominant position? In fact, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had selfishly decided to fuck your ass next, fill it to the brim with his seed. Yet, here he is, contently rubbing himself on your flushed, oozing tip, swearing gently as it barely grazes against his puckered hole, thoughtlessly clenching around practically nothing. “Don’t get the wrong idea. I’m only doing this to stake my claim on you, alright? Not fuckin’ fair if some bitch gets to fuck your virgin dick first so, hah— I’m making you into a proper slut. My slut.”

Very convincing, Whitney. Not so much so when he’s shuddering eagerly above you like a man about to be given the slightest taste of heaven itself, namely your cock it seems. Hot. Shit, it is a pretty hot sight, you’ve gotta admit.

So, is this purely a flimsy excuse of his to fuck himself stupid on your dick? Need that much to blindly persuade you he isn’t some sort of drooling cockwhore deep down? Nice try, big brother. Well, you can effortlessly see through his nonchalant act, the barely discernible, rosy flush dusting along his cheeks confirming his secretive, depraved and filthy desires simmering deeply within his core.

“Fuckin’ — ah, help me put it in already.” The resounding gasp escaping him is so breathy, so unlike the dominant, assertive Whitney you’ve familiarized yourself with that your lethargic brain hardly registers his direct order, sounding more like a frantic plea than anything else. Put it in? The little, stuck-up bastard is having difficulty sliding it in, resorting to your aid to lend a helping hand to his futile struggles? That’s cute. The indiscernible trace of a smirk beginning to form onto your lips from his uncharacteristically submissive demeanour, still withholding a decent amount of control in this situation here. Ah, what’re you even saying? He’s given you full leverage to wreck his tight, little hole as you happily please, fuck yourself deeper in that wet warmth you’ve been subconsciously seeking out. You’re the one cupping him within the palm of your hand, oddly contented with this newfound revelation, this switch of power dynamics.

“Can’t you put it in yourself then? It’s not that hard, is it? You’re the one always wanting to do everything so I think it’s only fair you do it.” Indulging in the scowl that appears shortly on his straining features only to dissolve under another one of his tough exteriors. “Fuck, you want me to? Can’t put it in yourself, huh?” He counters snidely, grasping for the bottle of lube conveniently placed on the night dresser nearby, accompanied by barking out a sharp huff of laughter as you cuss out loud a fuck! from the cooling, sticky mixture squirted plainly onto your cock.

“Shit! That’s cold! Why’d you pour it on me? Aren’t you supposed to put it in your— y’know? Your—“ Pausing bashfully in your tracks, immaturity running so deeply you couldn’t even properly stammer out the term if you wished to.

“My what? My ass? I’m not putting that in there, I can fuck myself on your cock just fine without that crap.” Lewd. That’s so lewd how he outwardly states it, blazing face hidden behind your cupped palms as though such a gesture would make this alright, make whatever he’s doing — smoothly grinding on the tip of your lubed, quivering length, how his hole teasingly snatches onto your flushed, leaking cock head only to disappointingly let go again. Fuck, fuck — Fuck. Doing this on purpose, isn’t he? Intent on driving you mad before he even manages to shove it in.

But, as previously stated before, there’s nothing more you hate than to lose, don’t you?

Really, he should be the one blaming himself for your rash and impulsive movements, shouldn’t be letting out that surprised yelp, silenced by a high-pitched gasp as you finally have had enough of his provoking mockery to mutter out a sharp fuck it and drive your increasingly impatient cock right in. Head stupidly thrown back in sheer shock from the unfamiliar yet admittedly pleasurable sensation of having his tight, virgin hole stuffed full of your cock right about now. Clear outline of your entire length pulsing deep within him by the noticeable quivering of his toned tummy, which you don’t hesitate to firmly plant your palm against to draw another satisfying, strangled whimper past his lips. Whore.

“Ah, fucking shit— You’re so fucking tight. Relax a bit for me or I can’t move.” Might as well be snapping your dick in half from the unbearable clenching of his unused insides, warm insides that you’re pervertedly staining white with every glide of your forceful thrusts, every harsh slam of your hips against his ass. Can’t stop yourself though — God, no. Not when the addictive heat of his hole envelops you so damn fucking well, rendering you both to mindlessly cling onto each other, entangled bodies slick with hot sweat trickling steadily down the navel of your arched backs. Namely his. And oh, he really does feel so good. Never mind all the shit he’s done, the stingy tugs of his fists deep within your messied hair, urging you to fuck yourself deeper into his trembling frame. This is the sweet taste of revenge you’ll so dearly savour, hungrily imprinting every choked moan to memory for later reminiscing.

Isn’t he so cute too? Tightening fingertips digging harshly into your shoulders for proper stability, an immediate roll of his eyes to the back of his skull whenever you angle your hips to hit that overly sensitive spot that sends a sickening jolt up his spine. Bound to be leaving marks, though that’s the least of your concerns with how goddamn pretty he looks when fucked stupid, fucked utterly brainless to match the feverish haze of his glazed over eyes. “See? I think you secretly enjoy it, Whitney. I think you— hah, fuck — enjoy that I’m taking the lead for once. ‘S that it? You like havin’ my cock inside you, huh? Like it when your little brother fucks you?” No matter how many times he may blatantly refuse and deny it, through the clawing of his nails, etching bloodied scars into your back that are sure to reside in your skin later on— You fucking know by the squeeze of his slutty hole, ring of cream having nicely settled around the base of your cock. The cocky bitch loves it.

“F-Fuckin’—“ Big brother having trouble speaking? “Bastard, shut— ah! up!” The pitiful whine echoing deeply from his throat almost makes you want to cease your endless blabbering, but y’know what? Fuck that. May as well endure the severe consequences of his actions, from the second you had arrived here, it was bound to end solely in one conclusion. You, balls deep in his ass. You, stupidly drunk off the mere act of ruthlessly fucking your older brother cuz’ shit, does it feel so amazingly good. “If you keep looking at me like that, it only— hah, makes things harder for me here. God, Whitney.. Don’t fucking stop squeezing me, ‘kay?” Not really doing any better than him either, any semblance of control within you possibly thrown out the window with every pleasurable stroke of your cock being sucked so sloppily by his stretched out hole. One thing the delinquent was right about — You being the equivalent of a dumb mutt. A dumb, drooling mutt huffing over his bare chest, depraved instincts kicking in to suck on whatever happens to be nearest and that consequently leads to your dazed gaze zeroing in on his swollen nipples.

Pretty, so fucking pretty. It’s not fair.

Deserving of every torturous inch his tight hole greedily swallows up, the sight of his neglected, puffy nipples almost too much to bear for your watering mouth.

A little taste wouldn’t hurt, would it?

How careless of you to overlook such an area that so desperately needs your loving attention too. Bad little brother you are for that, huh? “Promise to make you feel so good.” Sighing out a guttural groan as the softened pad of your thumbs find home to idly flick at the erect glands, eliciting another strangled curse from the delinquent once again. Sensitive here, isn’t he? “Shit.. Every time I touch your tits here, you tighten up like crazy, hah. Want me to suck on ‘em too?” It’s more of a fervent heads up for your upcoming actions than a polite request, pink tongue curiously poking out to glide along the sheen of sweat settled thickly on the rosy buds. “M-Motherfucker.. Don’t you fuckin’ dare— hmph!” Hastily cut off by the palm of his own hand clasped upon his mouth, he can’t help but to cave in at your perverted antics, specifically that weird obsession of yours with his chest or tits as you so obscenely call ‘em. Shivering lightly at the rhythmic lapping at his nipples which is soon followed by the roll of your tongue against the sensitive flesh, fully latching onto one of them to appreciatively suckle on. The things you do to him, a full on body shock simply from having his pretty tits toyed with, his nipples coyly sucked on by the moist engulf of your warm mouth. “W—What?? Stop, ah, that!” How the fuck do you get to him like this every damn time?

And why the hell does it have to feel so fuckin’ good too?

Screw you, really.

Having managed to get past his carefully placed barriers he put upon himself, a means of protection for his fragile pride that you so selfishly tear away at. Because it’s fun to, an absolute power rush to intently observe your slutty older brother fall apart on your fat cock, split his ass open while you’re at it. Teary eyes threatening to spill free more droplets down the length of his scarlet cheeks, bitten lips oozing fresh blood from your nipping teeth and tongue to gently suckle at as a well-deserved reward. Golden locks becoming increasingly more disheveled from every bounce on your cock, the guidance of your hands locked firmly onto his hips to witness the disappearance and reemergence of your leaking tip to reach that one single spot deep inside him.

And it’s real adorable when you draw your hips further back only to be halted by the weight of his legs wrapped securely around your waist to prevent you from pulling all the way out, so stubbornly too. “Oh, want me to cum inside?” The derisive pitch of your laughter has the blonde simmering in his humiliating position, too caught up in the intoxicating pleasure of being fucked so mercilessly like this to bother uttering out a curse of denial. Fangs bared, seething glare shot solely towards you, it’s you. Of course, it’s you who has the final say, the upper hand regardless. As always. “I-I swear to fuckin’ god, if you pull out now— I’m going to fucking kill you, asshole.” He threatens as per usual, but the shaky incoherence of his speech riddled with whiny moans discredits his shitty attempt at intimidation, coaxing you to readily follow suit to his orders.

Ah, look at him. Fucking bitch in heat.

Can’t say no to that face, can you?

“Wasn’t planning on it anyway, Whitney.” You mutter out soothingly in the shell of his ear, slightly unsettled by the softening tone you’ve taken on to address him. Is it due to the pathetic appearance he’s taken on from your relentless bullying? ‘S not fair he gets to look all cute and pouty while you’re struggling to keep up here, stuttering hips clumsily humping forward to make up for the messy pace because ah— fuck, you’re nearing your fill and so is Whitney, by the looks of it. “You can’t—“ Cutting himself off in a soundless gasp as your balls heavily smack against his ass, mind gone completely blank from the sheer euphoria of having his hole filled to the brim. Can’t? Sure, he can handle just a little more, can’t he? Cmon, he can do better than that. Drool dripping freely from his parted lips for yours to plant sloppy kisses against, stifling his open moans. Drawing your hips one last time to relish in the tight warmth of his wet insides— really, you’ll miss it, fuck— you barely get to process the thick ropes of cum spurting out of his bobbing cock, accompanied by your own climax shortly after. “S-Sorry, oh my god— I’m so sorry, you feel too good. I can’t—“ You sputter out uselessly, a hollow excuse when you continue on with your sloppy thrusts, burying yourself to the hilt to shoot your thick load into. Staining his walls white with your seed since your hips can’t stop themselves from fucking your cum deeper, not till he squirms and swears at you to stop it altogether.

Alright, so maybe you did end up going a tad bit too far this time, but it’s not like he didn’t ask for it. Or so you mumble to yourself to soothe your ever growing worries of where this may lead after the shortly lived, euphoric high you’ve just experienced. Nervously lifting your gaze to seek his as you’re greeted with.. ah, it seems you did fuck up. If anything, you’ve dug yourself a hole so steep you couldn’t possibly climb out of it now. Okay, he looks pissed. Doesn’t mean you don’t have time to mend things between the two of you, right? It’s as you finally muster up a foolish smile to meet his sour expression, that his frown significantly deepens in return.

“..So, uh. Did you like it?”

You’ve got a death wish, don’t you?

Should’ve probably expected this one. The shockingly loud slam of the wooden door closed shut on your face, promptly interrupting your frantic pleas and apologies. Heaps of dirty clothes thrown right into your arms for you to awkwardly pick up from the floor soon after. “Whitney, don’t be like that. Whitney, c’mon. I’m sorry—“ You’re not actually all that sorry, it’s just he looks too cute when angry, really.

“Fuck off!!”

Stubborn as ever, huh? At least, you’ve got to imprint those slutty sounds to memory for later use, having gotten your answer to leave him be for the time being. And oh, glancing down to be met with the sight of your still-hard, neglected cock tented pitifully against the front of your jeans has to be some sort of revenge for your previous animalistic actions, surely. Seriously? Didn’t you just cum too?

..Well, you’ve always got the bathroom to take care of that.

#I am but a man y’know.. #couldn’t be left satisfied when whitney had the upper hand in the previous part #never feels right when he’s the one that wins #..what do you mean I base reader off myself? #who said that? #you’re being crazy again #haha! cmon now. it’s time to take your pills #gaslighting? you’re making things up again #dol #degrees of lewdity #SWEET LIKE NECTAR. #whitney the bully #dol whitney #whitney dol #big brother whitney #top male reader #dom male reader #x male reader #character x male reader #asher writes

[smuttysabina]

Incandescent

(Rose x Male Reader, 3k Words) Tags: Femdom, oodles of fluff, some fun sex, some trauma is involved, kinda artsy, some physical as well as mental abuse

A/N This is a quick little story I spun up after I imagined Rose ranting while dominating you, enjoy!

Darkness cocoons you as tightly as any restraint, filling your senses, drowning your eyes in an endless nothingness that devours your sanity. The strongest prisons are the ones we make for ourselves, and the dark provides all the material you would ever need. Which is not to say that your fetters did not also exist in the mundane realm of existence outside of your thoughts, softly clinking metal binds your wrists and ankles to the stolid slab that supports you. The sound of the metal whispering against itself was the only indication of the passing of time; the pounding of your heartbeat in your ears already ignored as your brain probes for threats in the ceaseless night. You shiver in numbing terror as your mind concocts all manner of horrors for your stress-addled body to react to; anything was preferable to unending nothingness of unthoughts. Mankind had always feared the abyss of twilight, not from the dangers it might hold, but from what it awakened within; the agony of introspection. Little wonder then that we have always cleaved towards the light for comfort, not realizing that the greatest threat is often the one we can see the clearest. The door scrapes open behind you, casting dazzling shadows upon the walls that your eyes eagerly devour even as they bring tears of overstimulation. A voice as soft and sweet as honey drips into your ears,

"Now what do we have here?"

Your skin nearly tears itself from your bones in surprise, as a velvety hand gently caresses your bare shoulder, its owner's footsteps so quiet you had not heard their approach. Or perhaps, the pounding of blood in your ears had covered her movements; perhaps she wasn't even real... Murmured curses sound as the new arrival scrabbles around on the wall, her nails a cacophony to your sound-starved ears. The faint click of plastic soon follows, and your senses explode with pain as light sears into your brain, causing you to scream in astonished pain. You blink rapidly, squinting against the glare, the pale shape floating in front of you gradually shifting into a sleek white evening dress, adorning a radiant goddess. The beguiling beauty idly slurps on her drink as she waits for your cognition to return, her blonde hair tied back in a business-like manner. The light haloing her is intense, pouring down in a cone in front of you; the harsh buzz of it grating on your hearing. She gives a quaint smile when she notices sanity returning to your gaze, sloshing her drink around in studied amusement as you come to truly realize your predicament. Rose leans against the table and sighs, motioning towards the ceiling,

"Do you know how many times I've asked them to change out these lights? You would think with all the millions we've made for them, the least those imbeciles could do is at least replace this garbage with something nicer. Oh well, I imagine you didn't come here to listen to me rant about company politics; actually, why are you here at all? Don't answer, it was a rhetorical question. You got caught wandering where you shouldn't, so who do you belong to, hm? Not Jennie, that's for certain, you still seem reasonably sane and entirely undrained of all vitality. Perhaps you're one of Lisa's little toys, was she being too demanding of you as usual? Or are you Jisoo's... that must be it, she probably let you stumble around while she was busy elsewhere; typical. Ah well, now you are mine to play with, punishing you should prove to be an enjoyable way to destress..."

Horror dawns upon you as the idol distractedly rambles on, her fierce gaze boring into you as she talks. You stutter out a question through parched lips, your voice rasping from disuse. Rose pauses, and with another distracted sigh, pokes the straw of her drink into your mouth, allowing you to gulp down the refreshingly sweet liquid. She yanks the drink away from you after several seconds, but after examining the depleted state of her beverage she gracefully allows you to finish it off. A raised eyebrow prompts you to repeat your question, "Why?"

"Why what? Why do this? Because I can, because I enjoy breaking people until they worship me, because it's fun," a sleazy smile briefly appears, "And to be completely honest, because it arouses me immensely. Yes, it's very depraved I know, truly I am the weird one because I enjoy a little sadism with my sex. Any more burning questions? We have a little time until I finish my- oh right; well it's going to be rather gratifying sticking this straw in places it doesn't belong. Hm, what made me so angry? Oh my poor little dear, I'm not angry, just extremely irritated; I suppose if your interested I could torture you with mind-numbingly boring tales of lawyering... Oh you are cute, you think you're playing for time do you?" Rose traces her hand down your chest, making you shiver at her gentle touch, "You see, I find that the most agonizing thing for those I dominate is the waiting. You just keep hoping that the moment will never come, always worried that the next minute will be the one when I truly dig in. So I think a little..." she leans forward to breath into your ear, "Anticipation will make this more fun, yes?"

You let out a low moan as Rose's hand ends its journey and firmly grasps your genitals, giving them a squeeze in promise of the torments to come before withdrawing. Rose suddenly whirls, stalking back to her perch on the table; her hand automatically reaching for her drink before remembering once more that it is empty. She languidly waves at you, indicating that it is your turn to entertain, or simply suffer in silence. Rose pointedly settles a finger on the light switch, she knows. Terrified by the thought of being alone in the dark, completely at Rose's mercy, you rack your brain for anything forestall the darkness. "Why are you feeling so irritated?"

Rose grimaces, slowly returning to stand in front of you, placing her foot on the slab she lets out a slow breath; before promptly slapping you twice, "Now that, was a poor question, dear pet, now I am inclined to simply skip straight to the more intimate methods of teaching submission. Perhaps next time you'll learn to be more of an adroit conversationalist... Hm, why am I hurting you? I thought we established that already, now be silent or I'll fetch the ball gag- Oh, you meant why am I a sadist?" Rose pinches your chin, tapping on your face as she ponders whether she should answer the query. It is to your great relief that she appears willing to do so, forestalling your inevitable punishment, "That, is a long story, and would require a great deal of backstory, but I am a product of my vocation. Idol training requires some... demeaning concessions, so perhaps I am simply taking out my frustrations on all of you."

"That's the easy answer," your mouth foolishly spouts before you silence it.

Rose seems pleased by your boldness however, playfully squishing your lips together, "Is it though? Perhaps, the simpler answer is the best one; but still, such courage does require a reward..." Rose seductively hooks a finger over the top of her dress, before slowly pulling it down, revealing her breasts, pale skin glistening in the light. Your body automatically responds to such stimulation, your manhood hardening, your breath quickening as it pumps oxygen into your muscles in anticipation of sex. You manage to hold on to your sanity however, your mind still too riven with paranoia, to give fully into your primal urge to breed. Rose cocks her head at your reaction, "You know, most people would be humping the air right now; the girls too, not just the boys. I've seen more bitches than you've ever met sobbing as they beg me to impregnate them; it's sickening really. It's no wonder I have to discipline such degenerates, right? And the worst part of it," Rose pauses, considering whether she should continue before shrugging to herself, "The worst part is how much they adore me for it. They love me even before I break them; even my supposed "haters" are slobbering over themselves with devotion after only a few minutes in my presence. None of them hate me for it, none of them despise me for forcing them to demean themselves in the most perverse ways possible," Rose slips her hand down your neck, nails digging slightly into your chest, drawing white lines across your skin, "Will you hate me then, before the end? Your fear is palpable, but will you look up at me with loathing when I finally break you?"

To say that you are greatly concerned at the mental state of the idol sharing the room with you would be an understatement. You shudder at the thought of what horrors she would inflict upon you; evidently Rose is well versed in the art of pain. More horrifying yet, your body seems strangely aroused by that, depravedly hungering for its own destruction if it meant a chance to impregnate the sexual goddess. Her eyes bore intensely into your own, and you feel her claws starting to hook into you; something was needed to distract her... You gulp, "I'll try, but um, how do the other girls deal with it?"

Rose snorts in amused contempt, "You sure know how to inspire confidence in a woman, pet. But I'll indulge you, we don't. All of us idols are fucked up," Rose counts them off on her fingers, "Twice is a freaking breeding cult, Itzy are simply insane, IVE are spoiled rotten, Loona are is cracked as their fans, Red Velvet are literal whores, Aespa enjoy getting passed around like baubles, and don't even get me started about the boy groups... Oh and Blackpink, I would say we're the worst of the whole bunch," Rose distractedly sits on the slab as she rants, occasionally slapping your thighs for emphasis, "Do you know what Lisa did today? Of course you don't, you've been locked down here, alone in the dark. We were in a meeting with the idiots who run this place, and they were begging on their knees for us not to leave the company. Now they looked like they hated us for forcing them to demean themselves like that; well most of them did, some were enjoying it. But then Lisa, that crazy bitch, you know what she does?"

You cough, "She uh, fucked them?"

Rose blinks at your interruption, before snorting, "Good guess, but no, not yet at least; I imagine it will come to that eventually. No, Lisa just looked at these pitiful business men pawing at our feet, and then she pissed on them. Oh I am completely serious, she just pissed on them and giggled. I don't think I've ever seen Jisoo laugh that hard, and Jennie nearly choked on her coffee! To be honest, I also joined in, but at that point it was more about sending a message than anything else. So you see, all of us are bent in one way or another; especially us. Lisa is literally a nymphomaniac, she has a full-scale mental breakdown after a single day without sex. Jennie's sex drive is so monstrous she can fuck for weeks without stopping; you think I'm joking but I'm not. And dear Jisoo... she just loves showering her pets with so much love they drown in it; she's probably the least crazy of all of us. Hm, and me? Oh come now, no doubt you can already tell the direction my vices run..." Rose flicks a switch, causing the slab to tilt horizontal. She grabs your neck and leans in for a savage kiss, "So tell me pet, do I seem even remotely sane?"

"Um, yes?"

Rose laughs so hard she staggers, holding on to the slab for support as she howls. It takes some time to compose herself, but when she does it is to your relief that her dark mood looks to have dissipated. She gives you something approaching a fond smile and gives you the courage to push your luck, "See? Maybe you just needed some wholesome venting and not torture-sex after all!" Rose's smile grows more genuine, and she reaches behind her back, toying with something. With a suddenness that surprises you, Rose's dress cascades to the ground, leaving her entirely naked. Your eyes balloon as you drink in the awesome sight of an idol's body, her tender breasts, her taut stomach, and most importantly, the pair of lips gleaming mere inches away from your face. You feel something trickle down your shaft, as you gawp at the beautiful girl standing ever so close to you. Rose glances at your crotch with studied humor, she gives your meat a flick as she climbs up onto the slab, straddling your face.

"While the venting was nice, I still do desire some sex; so for your sake you had best pleasure me enough to keep me wholesome. Or don't, we're going to reach the point where I need to start getting truly inventive to keep you up eventually, so why not start early?" Rose promptly plants her pussy on your mouth, "So let's see if that tongue of yours is as skilled at pleasing as it is at talking. Be sure to give it your all, pet, I don't intend for you to be conscious by the time this is over, so spare nothing." After that she relaxes on your face for a while, glancing down at you on occasion as she idly gropes herself. For your part you spend the time drowning in her juices, frantically licking and sucking at the delicious flesh in your mouth. Eventually however, she orders you to stop, "Wow... you are fucking terrible at this, its so bad its honestly impressive. Are you a virgin? Though that's really not much of an excuse. Hm, that's the first of your chances to satisfy me gone, let's hope the next one goes better," Rose scoots backwards, dragging her pussy lips across your chest until they slide over your erect cock, "I was pleasantly surprised to see you hadn't cum when I stripped for you, perhaps that indicates you have more stamina than usual..." With a complete lack of fanfare, Rose sits on your cock in a single smooth motion, devouring every inch of you with ease. Your balls pulse in response, and she lets out a disappointed sigh, "Well I guess not, oh well."

Rose starts to ride you, uncaring of how sensitive you were following an orgasm; making a mess on your crotch as your seed leaks out of her. After several minutes of such excessive pleasure, you climax once more; Rose doesn't even bother slowing down. Only when you start to flag does she even start to pay attention to anything other than her own enjoyment, "You know, as much as you amuse me with all of your philosophizing, and even after all that wonderfully justifying on my part; at the end of the day I'm really just a cruel bitch, aren't I?" With a devilish smirk, Rose leans over, and flicks of the light. The abyss embraces you once more, but this time, you know there is something sharing it with you. You cringe, paranoid of all the horrors Rose will inflict upon you in darkness. She giggles, "Oh you are simply adorable dear pet, I should do this sort of thing more often, sensory deprivation truly brings out the animal in us..." Her hand is suddenly clamped around your neck, pinching off the blood flow to your brain, "So get it up again, or don't, I like it when you resist," A rain of stinging slaps and pinches descends upon, her abuse landing seemingly at random; often she pauses in her efforts until you are shivering with anticipation. Most terrifying of all, was how hard it made you, your cock becoming erect with fear. Rose laughs with delight as you climax once more, "God you are such a fucking quick-shot, you're lucky to have a girl like me to tolerate your pathetic cock. Do try to not black out too early, I might just keep fucking you anyways."

Ensconced in the endless gloom, you are completely vulnerable to Rose's attentions. She pinches and slaps, kneads and squeezes, licks and gnaws, sucking on your flesh until it bruises. You are lost in a world of unexpected pain and sensation, the only constant in your universe is the warm wetness around your cock. The heat surrounding your manhood seems to devour your misery, your suffering fueling a burning lust that somehow manages to keep you erect even after several orgasms. The heat of Rose's body imprints itself into your mind; no longer were you alone, now she was there as well. The ceaseless slap of flesh reaches a crescendo, Rose's sudden gasp painfully loud, as a fresh source of warmth spreads from your crotch. Her heaving breaths grow closer until they caress your face, and she murmurs, "Do you hate me now, pet?" Your body is a pattern of bruises and aches, your skin sensitive to the merest touch, your manhood a beacon of pleasurable agony; so you answer honestly,

"No."

Rose whistles softly, "Well I suppose I will just have to try harder then. Scream as much as you'd like, there's only the two of us in here"

You merely smile as a fresh round of abuse begins; how could you hate such a goddess? How could you hate Rose after she filled the empty void with such exquisite stimulation, banishing the horrors of nothingness. No longer would you fear the twilight of your mind, because Rose would always be there with you, dispelling the shadows, incandescent in the dark.

#smut #blackpink smut #rose smut #kpop smut

[moodymisty]

'We float for Macragge.' That is the cutest quote ever omg. Thank you for blessing me with this, I'd never seen the meme before. The blueberries are so charming sometimes 🥺 -anon that likes excerpts

It's one of the less popular iconic WH40k memes, but I see people reference it sometimes. Here's some more funnies because I like forcing people to read this stuff.

There's also the fucking hilarious scene of an astartes with new terminator armor falling through a floor, and his buddy has to call a crew with a crane to get him out, which is fucking hysterical. (master of sanctity)

‘Some kind of sub-level here,’ reported Daellon. ‘Descending.’ ‘Wait!’ yelled Telemenus, but his warning came too late. The audio pick-ups brought the sound of splintering woods and crumbling ferrocrete followed by an almighty crash. Daellon cursed without pause over the vox. ‘Report,’ barked Arbalan. ‘Brother Daellon misjudged the load bearing of some internal stairs, brother-sergeant,’ said Telemenus, trying not to laugh. For once he was glad somebody else was attracting the negative scrutiny. There was a chuckle from Cadmael and a sigh from Arbalan. ‘Daellon, can you climb out?’ asked the sergeant. ‘Negative, a three metre drop at least. The floor will not hold my weight to pull myself up.’ ‘No threats detected,’ Telemenus added, his auspex sensors encompassing the long row of huts. ‘Understood,’ said Arbalan. He sounded impatient. ‘Daellon, remain in place, I will signal for an armoury extraction team. Telemenus, rejoin the squad.'

There's also a book I don't remember where a group of baseline humans are descending from tight steps with an astartes, and are VERY concerned at the creaking of the stairs from his weight. Chunky boi

Also here's Guilliman making a joke in Armour of Fate about him being stuck in this massive bulky armor and Sicarius just, doesn't get it. This moment was another reason why I always recommend Dark Imperium to people, it just kind of gets Guilliman and how different he is from his legion now.

Sheaves of blueprints were scattered across the desk in front of him. He spotted something of interest written on one and reached for it, gritting his teeth against the purring of the suit. He always reached with his right hand. The integration points for the Hand of Dominion on his left made picking anything up nigh on impossible, even with the over gauntlet and its underslung bolter removed. Day-to-day tasks such as this were a struggle. His armoured fingers pushed at slick plastek. Ceramite skidded across the papers, knocking them to the ground in wafting flutters. ‘Oh, for the love of…’ he grumbled as he bent awkwardly to pick them up. The Armour of Fate was bulky. As its waist joint prevented him from flexing his spine and reaching the floor, he had to kneel. He reached for the scattered flimsies. Fingertips failed to grasp the sheets, sending them fleeing in small armadas over the polished floor. He growled in frustration, abandoned his task and stood, drawing a curious look from Sicarius. ‘I have the manual dexterity of a Legio Cybernetica battle automaton!’ Guilliman said. ‘Created by the Lord of All Mankind, master of the greatest armies in the Imperium, and I cannot pick up a plastek flimsy.’ He glared at the offending articles. ‘My greatest enemy.’ There was a thoughtful quiet. ‘You are joking, my lord?’ said Sicarius. Guilliman looked at Sicarius. He had to turn all the way around to do so. The pauldrons, ornamental wings and large halo mounted on his back made it impossible for him to see over his shoulder. At least he had stopped knocking into things. There was that. ‘By the Throne, why am I expected to be serious at all times? Yes, Captain Sicarius, I am making light of my predicament. During the worst of the Great Crusade, I was known to make the occasional jest. Even after Terra fell. I did not spend my entire previous life writing deep thoughts into little notebooks, but sometimes dared to enjoy myself. I suppose that was not recorded in the hagiographies.’ ‘Humour is not something you are renowned for, my lord.’ ‘My time in this new age has revealed that to me amply.’

I have way too many random book moments stuck in my head. And not enough space for actual useful information.

#reply #or an excerpt where a tau almost convinces Sicarius not to kill her but then he changes his mind and runs up and football kicks her #or Ferrus roasting Lorgar into the next millenium #Misty's book club

[dgrailwar]

Round 8, Day 2 - Pretender versus Avenger

Inside the Wyrm, it was dark. Darkness and more darkness, only slightly pierced by a light at the end. The one sign that the maw hadn't closed yet, and therefore escape was possible with enough determination. The Avenger landed inside, looking around as he drew his blade, idly met with a form slithering out of the shadows.

"Oh. Good. It's you."

"Hah! So, Pretender! Is this the result of me scorching your forest? As an Extra-Class, has this prompted you to awaken--"

"Oh, piss off, do you ever shut up? All you do is talk, yakking away all the time."

With an unamused expression, the Pretender raised his hand, the darkness from the abyss surrounding them crashing down towards the Avenger, who was forced to dodged out of the way. The Count's burning sword slashed through the darkness, breaking through the cursed insects that swarmed towards his body.

"Fine. No more talk then!"

The Avenger knew his time inside would be limited. He would need to strike fast and retreat faster in order to avoid being swallowed.

Avenger has a -2% demerit this round!

The current boosts are...

Oberon-Vortigern: +7%

The Count of Monte Cristo: -1%

SERVANT SKILLS:

Oberon-Vortigern (Pretender)

Evening Shroud and Morning Lark (EX Rank): In the cover of night, even the most unscrupulous warriors can at least feign greatness. When the sun rises, warriors gain the morale to fight another day. When engaged in combat, gain a +5% boost.

Fairy Eyes (Unranked): When 'Playing Defensively', increase your +5% combat boost to +7%. He also cannot be 'Ambushed'.

A Midsummer Night's Dream (EX Rank): Rather than just reducing the effectiveness of Servant-imposed demerits, he is immune to them entirely. Unlike other demerit immunities, this ignores the effects of Servant traits and Free-for-All demerits as well.

Anti-Human Order (D Rank): A skill representing an incompatibility with mankind. When fighting against a Servant, Pretender inflicts a 5% demerit on their enemies. If Pretender wins by greater than 10%, he recovers from one wound. If he wins by more than 20%, he deals 2 wounds instead of one.

End of a Dream (EX Rank): An incredibly dangerous skill on a countdown. When used on a Servant, they gain a +20% boost to their next polls, however are instantly knocked out of the competition afterwards, no matter their health or Command Spell status. (4 turns remaining).

PRETENDER-CLASS Servants possess an inherent trickster nature. If they fall in last place during a Free-for-All, if there is a gap of 3% within their final score and that of the Servant in 2nd place, they can evade taking a wound. Additionally, if they're victorious against other Servants, other teams cannot attempt to study the Pretender in order to gain a percentage bonus against them.

The Count of Monte Cristo (Avenger)

Determination of Steel (EX Rank): If Avenger is about to take a fatal wound, if there's at least a 3% difference in their score and the victor above him, he may avoid damage. When facing a single-target (1-on-1), he will gain a +3% boost.

Monte Cristo Mythologie: The King of the Cavern (C Rank): When battling enemies, his flames are like a poison. He reduces demerits against him by 3%, and when he is victorious against another, he inflicts a -2% demerit for their next round. This demerit increases by 2% by every 10% difference in scores.

Wisdom of Predicament (A Rank): When engaged in a Free-for-All, gain a +3% boost. Additionally, if Avenger earns last place, both the victor and the 2nd place Servant gain a -2% demerit, rather than simply the 2nd place Servant.

AVENGER-CLASS Servants are vengeful by nature. The first time they are defeated by a Servant, they gain an automatic +2% bonus against that specific Servant, without needing to study them (but can in order to increase the bonus). They gain a permanent +3% bonus per wound they attain that will remain if the wound remains, but will disappear if the wound is healed.

#team avenger #team pretender #combat phase poll

[plushienanami]

yandere!god x reader concept

imagine…a yandere!god and the reader are both god’s.

yandere!god is not a yandere yet, but just a normal person with a healthy mindset. where the reader is in love with the yandere!god, yet the yandere!god’s heart belongs somewhere else. his heart belonging to a human girl.

yandere!god would spend countless hours of the day neglecting his god duties in order to spend time with the human girl, meanwhile the reader has to endure the heartbreak.

a war between mankind and gods erupted throughout the kingdom, sacrifice coming to play to keep peace and order throughout both worlds. reader sacrificing themself in order to stop the war and let yandere!god lives peacefully with the one they truly love. sealing herself in a tomb for her permanent slumber.

although, with love comes sacrifice.

reader’s sacrifice could only do so much and yandere!god has to give up the majority of his power in order to keep his love safe. his loss of power forcing him to age as a human would, yet his godhood kept his immortality.

yandere!god living a peaceful life with his beloved, building a home, starting a family, growing old with his spouse. life felt perfect, but he could never leave behind what he once was. watching the love of his life and offspring eventually meet their end, giving him the painful reminder of what he actually was.

TIME SKIP to centuries later to modern times, humanity and technology is booming. the rumored god who vanished from records after the war thousands of years ago. a researcher team gathered together in order to uncover the mystery of the missing god.

in a desolate wooded area, a cave overgrown with nature they find the cave of the sealed god. a gold framed glass casket laid the body of sleeping god, looking tranquil and untouched even from countless years that went by.

immediately taken by the team, the god later awakens confused on where they were and how they were awake. informed by the lead researchers of the group who seemed very passionate of his job, he explained the story in full.

news breaks out nationwide about the god who had been discovered after being sealed away by conflict once in the past, and the masses erupt in shock and disbelief.

the news travels over to yandere!god who is in complete bewilderment. he had thought you had died years ago and now you are alive? the only one in the world who knows who he actually was and not having to lie century after century about his prolonged life.

yandere!god who volunteers as one of the researchers bookkeepers and gets the position as he is just a wise old man. yandere!god who watches as the lead researcher acquaints you with modern life and the two of you becoming quite close. who knew you could be so sweet, gentle, benevolent?

yandere!god overhears your story of the one you love and why you ended up in this predicament. maybe throughout the years he had forgotten about his past lover because somehow you begin to fill her place. you had been through so much pain and suffering all because of how selfish he was. in the end he should have stuck with you, you two both being the same and truly capable of understanding each other.

yandere!god who bathes in fury as he sees the lead researcher lay his hands on you, his filthy undeserving sinful hands. how dare he? he was in the presence of a god, only gods could be worthy enough to be around each other.

yandere!god looking at himself seeing the shell of a god he used to be.

no worries, when he regains his power he’ll be able to stand proudly at your side where he should’ve been in the first place���

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere concept #yandere oc #yandere god #yandere oc x reader #imagine #concept

[atinycafe]

APOCALYPTIC AMOUR — ch 01 [trackstar]

prompt; a tight-knit friend group's carefree days turn into a fight for survival as they navigate a zombie apocalypse ( ˘ ³˘)ﾉ☆ feat; ot8!ateez x fem!reader in this chapter; you meet new student yunho and present him to your friend group, you all have fun until— wrd count; 12.7k notes; all the characters in this story are 18+, the beginning is slightly inspired by the super talented @ohmyamor, this post in particular!!, mullet yunho 4 the win, idk if you noticed yet but i love it when a girl has braids in her hair and she adds those small jewels in them, i feel like i describe all my leads w/ that hairstyle im cryin, it's gonna be normal for the majority part of this chapter, so no crazy gore/horror yet (I JUST FINISHED WRITING I LIED THERE IS GORE AND I'M SCARED!!!), yall this was acc supposed to be a yandere story till i switched it up when jongho pulled up bcuz i felt like it, lssrfm & xikers cameo cuz i love them sm taglist; @eightmakesonebraincell (glad u like it bb!!), lmk if you want 2 b added 2!

"In a matter of moments, she'll be joining us. She's a sweet girl you'll get along well," whispers the director in a gentle tone, leaning forward across his mahogany desk, which acts as a partition between them. Yunho musters a forced smile, his slender fingers fidgeting with the rings adorning them. Irritation simmers within him. He endured an uncomfortable fifteen minutes on the rigid bergère chair, obligated to listen to the school director's grating voice against his wishes. The prospect of meeting a girl holds no interest for him; he is determined to navigate the school's corridors alone.

Just as he prepares to rise from his seat, tired of the interminable wait, a figure bursts into the room with a flourish. Before him stands a panting young girl, her hands clutching her knees, desperately gasping for air as though she has just conquered the most arduous marathon known to mankind.

"I'm... I'm here, lemme just—" she stammers, her voice catching as she raises a trembling hand, a solitary finger indicating her need for a brief respite, "the bus... late... San stole my... backpack... fuck I'm gonna pass out."

"Ah, such language," grumbles the elder man as he rises from his chair. Casting a renewed smile towards Yunho, he gently pats his perspiring forehead with a blush-colored tissue. Stepping over to the girl, who remains slumped in the corner, he addresses the other boy still sitting in shock, "Yunho, this is the student who will accompany you today. I won't detain you any longer. You may proceed." With a gesture towards the door, he guides the girl outside while she continues to lament her apologies to the older man, vehemently blaming a certain individual named "San" for the predicament.

Outside, she turns towards him, and Yunho seizes the opportunity to cast his gaze upon her, carefully observing her appearance. She's undeniably beautiful. The delicate braids in her hair, adorned with glistening jewels, captivate his attention, while her plump cheeks radiate with a gentle glow, evidence of the perspiration amassed during her hurried arrival. Yunho has always had a fondness for aesthetically pleasing things.

Suddenly, she breaks his trance, bowing earnestly before him. "I'm so so so sorry, I didn't mean to be late, I swear I tried to be on time, I'm usually never late. I got jumped by an oversized child annnnd I'm rambling." A flush of embarrassment creeps across her face as the realization dawns upon her, and she playfully scratches her head, feeling a sense of diminishment under the unwavering gaze of the tall young man standing before her.

Yunho's smile widens at the sight. She's cute. Extending his hand towards her, she eagerly intertwines her fingers with his. A rush of joy courses through him as he marvels at the stark contrast in size—his larger hand effortlessly enveloping hers, causing it to vanish within his grasp. He savors the velvety softness of her palm, relishing in the comforting warmth it radiates. His elongated fingers tenderly caress her wrist, their gentle movements akin to a graceful dance.

She reciprocates the gesture, shaking his hand before sheepishly wiping her own on her skirt. "Sorry, my palm is a bit sweaty," she admits, her voice tinged with a hint of bashfulness.

"Knees weak, arms are heavy," he absentmindedly continues, lost in his thoughts.

"Oh! There's vomit on his sweater already," she chimes in, recognizing the lyrics.

"Mom's spaghetti," they say in unison, both bursting into fits of giggles at the absurdity of the words.

"Anyway, I'm yn. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance," she says, her gaze meeting his once more. Yunho finds himself captivated by her eyes. They possess a playful sparkle, akin to the innocent exuberance he often sees in the younger generation. It's as if the weight of the adult world has yet to fully cast its shadow upon her, preserving a childlike wonder within her gaze.

"Yunho," he nods in response, his lustrous black bangs delicately framing his forehead, swaying gently as if in sync with his every movement, catching the radiance of the hallway lights and emanating a subtle glow.

"I know," she giggles, delicately covering her mouth with her hand as they begin to walk. "Well, since I've arrived late, classes have already started, which means we'll have the hallways all to ourselves," she proclaims with a mischievous air, a smugness in her tone. She playfully winks at him, and he joins in her laughter, reveling in the shared moment of camaraderie.

Continuing their stride, the sound of their sneakers occasionally creating a gentle squeak against the polished floor, she takes the lead, pointing out various corridors and imparting valuable knowledge to him. Her animated gestures and explanations paint a vivid picture of everything he needs to know.

Yunho would be dishonest if he claimed to retain any of the information shared by the student by his side. His attention is wholly captured by the gentle cadence of her voice, laced with an endearing accent, and the subtle grace with which she occasionally bites her tongue in contemplation. Oblivious to the details she imparts, he merely nods his head in response.

Instead, Yunho's eyes roam across the curve of her nose and the delicate flutter of her long eyelashes. His gaze then lingers on the slightly askew tie loosely draped around her neck and the oversized sweater that envelops her figure. A desire surges within him, longing to embrace her smaller frame within the warmth of his own arms, never to release her. An internal groan escapes him, a perplexing discomfort arising from the strange yearning he discovers within himself.

As they stand before the window, a stray curl cascades across her face, obscuring her vision. Yunho's instinctual response is to reach out and brush it away, but his action is abruptly halted as someone grabs his hand forcefully. He turns his attention towards the source, locking eyes with a shorter boy exuding a piercing intensity. Tension grips both their wrists, causing veins to bulge beneath their sleeves, marking the strain in their arms. Unfazed, Yunho arches an eyebrow in response, calmly meeting the gaze of the boy with a distinctive mole adorning his cheek. In that silent exchange, a challenge hangs in the air.

Their unspoken confrontation is momentarily interrupted as the girl finally shifts her focus from the window, her attention drawn to the unexpected arrival that has joined their company.

"Oh, hey Wooyo! What are you doing here? Yunho, this is Wooyoung." she beams at the boy, completely oblivious to the lingering tension in the air. As her gaze meets his, the previously intense look in Wooyoung's eyes undergoes a transformation, melting into a tender, lovesick expression as he sets his sights upon her. With a gentle gesture, he wraps an arm around her shoulder, leaning into her touch, their bodies fitting together snugly. A slight hunch forms in his posture as he revels in her presence.

"Missed my girlfriend, had to see you," he smiles, his gaze lingering on Yunho, a keen observer of the tension that grips the boy before him. With his hand still wrapped around her, he playfully toys with a braid, gently twirling it between his fingers. In that moment, a wave of warmth washes over Yunho, but it's not the pleasant kind. It's the kind that tightens his throat and makes the mullet he currently sports feel uncomfortably scratchy against the back of his neck.

With a sudden burst of force, the girl forcefully pushes Wooyoung away from her, her face flushed with deep embarrassment. "Stop saying that to everyone I introduce you to! You're so embarrassing, you fucking liar," she scolds, playfully landing a punch on his shoulder. The boy, unfazed by the punch, erupts into a contagious fit of high-pitched laughter, filling the once-empty hallway with joyous echoes. He seizes her wrists, swiftly maneuvering behind her, enveloping her in a warm back hug while still clasping her fists in his hands. Turning her gaze towards the taller boy, she apologizes for the unexpected spectacle that just unfolded before them.

An inexplicable tightness constricts Yunho's chest, leaving him struggling to catch his breath. He can't fathom why this feeling has taken hold of him. He understands that the two individuals before him are not romantically involved, as evident from the girl's earlier remark. However, the overt display of affection between them unsettles him, stirring a discomfort within his core. They exude an undeniable ease with one another, causing his stomach to knot with unease. Wooyoung seems to know exactly what's happening in the boy's mind because when the latter meets his eyes once again, he smirks.

Yunho finds himself irritated, yet he manages to maintain a polite smile nonetheless.

"Wait," she interrupts their embrace, her hand clapping in the air as she fixes her gaze on the student who had been hugging her. Suspicion colors her expression, and she hesitates before voicing her question, "what are you doing here, I know you have class right now."

Wooyoung locks eyes with her for a moment, a mischievous glint shining in his gaze, before swiftly planting a playful peck on her cheek. Without missing a beat, he dashes down the hall, his voice echoing through the corridors as he calls out, "Love you, president!" His laughter gradually fades into the distance as he disappears from their sight.

The girl lets out a groan, using her sleeve to wipe her cheek clean. It's in this moment that Yunho's attention is drawn to the blue marine armband adorning her right arm, proudly displaying the words "Class President." He notices the adorable Sanrio stickers adorning the Korean syllables, adding a touch of charm to the armband.

"Let me tell you, this guy," she exclaims, frustration evident in her voice, "he never attends his morning classes. Detention just isn't cutting it anymore. I should put him in jail." Finally turning her attention to Yunho, she offers an apologetic smile. Pointing towards a classroom ahead, she stretches her arms overhead. "That's your next period class. Just go on in, and the teacher will assign you a seat."

Yunho offers a gentle nod in response, prompting a genuine smile to spread across the girl's face. Initially intimidated by the boy's towering height and quiet demeanor when they first met, she now finds his mannerisms oddly reminiscent of a puppy, endearing her to him. His big, expressive eyes only add to the charm that she discovers within him.

A warm invitation escapes her lips, laced with empathy and understanding. "Do you wanna eat with me and my friends during lunch this afternoon? I know it can be challenging to make friends when you're new in the middle of the year." Her eyes crinkle with a gentle warmth, captivating Yunho's heart as he feels himself melt in response. Internally, he can't contain his excitement, overwhelmed by how incredibly adorable she is. He's practically screaming with joy inside.

"Actually, I already know someone here in the school that I need to find. It's 'ight," he replies, a playful grin adorning his face as he resists the temptation to pat her head. While a part of him feels a tinge of sadness for missing the chance to spend more time with her, he also realizes that if her friends are similar to the one he just met, it might not be the best fit for him. It's not about feeling intimidated or anything of the sort, but rather a desire to ensure that he presents himself in a way he won't regret to the girl standing before him.

"Oh really? Who? Maybe I can help," she offers, crossing her arms behind her back and tilting her head slightly to meet his gaze that had been concealed by his hair. Yunho responds with a gentle smile, his hand instinctively reaching up to brush his bangs aside, revealing his warm brown eyes. He finds joy in the way her smile widens upon catching a clearer glimpse of his eyes, their connection growing stronger.

"Song Mingi, but I don't think you know him, he's quite shy—" Yunho begins to explain, but his words are cut short by a surprised scream escaping the girl's lips. Acting swiftly, she retrieves her phone and taps the screen, revealing something to Yunho. She turns the phone towards him, displaying her wallpaper for him to see.

Displayed on the screen, amidst the small widgets and iMessages, Yunho's eyes meet a captivating image. It captures his childhood friend, Mingi, in a deep slumber, his cropped blond hair filled with an array of adorable pastel hairclips. Playful marker drawings of cat whiskers adorn his peaceful face. Standing in front of him is the owner of the phone, her face partially blurred but her radiant smile shining through. It's as if he can almost hear her infectious laughter echoing from within the screen.

"Uh yeah that's him," Yunho responds, his voice tinged with surprise. He hadn't anticipated her knowing Mingi. The girl nods affirmatively, her smile unwavering, and Yunho can't help but wonder if she ever gets cheek cramps from smiling so much. She moves behind him, placing her hands flat against his back, gently pushing him towards the classroom door. "Great! I'll come find you once your class is over, and we can go eat together," she declares from behind him.

As Yunho settles into his class, he can still feel the lingering warmth of her palms against his back. Throughout the entire lesson, the sensation remains, serving as a comforting reminder of the upcoming lunchtime rendezvous.

"Jongho I'm telling you, the moment I find San, I'm breaking his knee caps, I didn't even know what to tell Mr. Byun when he asked me where my things were." Yunho quietly opens the sliding door, intending to leave the classroom, when he catches snippets of the conversation. The familiar voice belongs to the girl who has been on his mind throughout the entire period. Yunho can sense her annoyance as she leans against the wall, one foot pressed against it for support, arms crossed over her chest, and a visible pout on her face. Beside her, Jongho doubles over in laughter, clutching his stomach in amusement.

"You think that's funny huh," the girl's growl is accompanied by a punch to Jongho's side, prompting him to playfully overreact, clutching the spot where she hit him as if it were truly painful. However, their playful exchange is interrupted by Yunho, who clears his throat to gain their attention. As they turn towards him, their expressions shift in response. The girl's smile remains warm and welcoming, while Jongho's smile fades into a more neutral, passive expression.

"Yunho! Let's go find Mangi," she exclaims excitedly, pulling Jongho along with her and intertwining her arms with both boys, one on each side. Yunho can't help but feel a sense of familiarity as she uses the nickname he had coined for Mingi years ago. Normally, he would feel uncomfortable when strangers used his private lingo with his friends, but strangely, he doesn't mind it this time. "Oh, by the way, this is Jongho," she introduces the boy next to her, gesturing towards him, "and this is Yunho," she adds, indicating the tall boy at her side.

"Wait, he knows Mingi?" Jongho asks, his confusion evident on his face. She simply nods in response, popping a lollipop into her mouth with a mischievous smile.

"You still haven't told me how you guys got to know each other," she inquires, peering at the paper of the candy wrapper, searching for the usual joke written there.While waiting for Yunho to answer her question, Jongho reaches over and grabs the candy wrapper, turning it around to show her the joke, pointing at it. She lets out a soft exhale through her nose, the joke genuinely amusing.

Yunho rubs the back of his neck, his fingers gently grazing through his hair. He feels a sense of relief that her focus is directed elsewhere. Her captivating eyes, so large and mesmerizing, have a way of stealing his breath whenever they lock gazes."It's nothing crazy, we were neighbours, and I kinda forced him to befriend me, like I'd walk him to school and eat with him during lunch even though we attended different schools."

"Wait that's adorable oh my God, he never told me that, did he mention that?" She turns to Jongho, her eyes widening with an expression of curiosity and delight and the latter feels his heart skip a beat, as if doing a somersault in his chest.

"N-no yeah, he mentioned something about a childhood friend pullin up," he stammers, inwardly cursing his sudden bout of nervousness.

"He told you and he didn't tell me, what the—" she starts to say, but her words are cut short by a loud scream echoing through the bustling hallways.

"Pres'! You comin' to practice today?" a boy dressed in a letterman jacket calls out, his voice carrying over the noise. He is joined by a group of similarly attired boys, some of them casually tossing around a football in a cliché manner.

"Yup! Wasn't planning on it, but I have to beat San's ass," she shouts back, not even bothering to turn towards the group of boys. Jongho understands the underlying tension behind her action. She wasn't particularly fond of building relationships with the members of the school's football team, except for the boys in their own friend group, of course. The sound of playful "ooohs" emerges from the group, earning an eye roll from her.

"You part of the football team?" Yunho asks, looking down at her and the boys she was conversing with. She locks eyes with him and bursts into laughter.

"No, not at all, ew, I would never. They're all gross," she says, turning to Jongho and pulling him closer, her hand gripping his bicep. "No offense, babe, but your friends are so annoying." He chuckles softly, too caught up in their proximity and the endearing nickname she always uses, oblivious to her playful jabs at his friends.

"I'm actually part of the cheer squad," she adds, and as the words leave her mouth, she notices Yunho's surprised expression. "Yeah, I know. I lost a bet against the umbrella twins, and they forced me to join."

"The umbrella twins?" he questions, seeking clarification.

"Oh, my bad. San and Wooyoung, the guy who stole my backpack and the one you met this morning," she clarifies, gesturing with her hands as she speaks, a habit that Yunho finds endearing.

Before she can continue, they are once again interrupted by another group of people approaching her. "Pres! The basketball team is going to take the 4th local today, but we already reserved it!" they announce eagerly. She leans back, taken aback by the sudden noise and movement, and Jongho instinctively moves slightly in front of her, as if to protect her.

"I'm not the only president here. Can't you go talk to Hongjoong? There are two of us for a reason," she whines, taking the hands of the girl in front of her and waving them dramatically.

"Eonnie, please, we've been searching everywhere and we can't find him," another girl pouts at her, holding her hands together in a pleading manner. However, her plea is cut short as the girl accidentally hits herself on the head with her tennis racket. The president instinctively brings her own hand to soothe the reddened spot on the younger girl's forehead.

"Alright, alright, I'll talk to Mingi and Seonghwa and see what I can do," she assures them, and the small tennis committee beams with gratitude before taking their leave.

"Fucker must be on the roof. I'll beat him up, always leaves all the work to me," she grumbles, resting her head on Jongho's shoulder.

"Mingi's in the basketball team?" she nods in response, Yunho's mind drifting off as if lost in memories. Before she can inquire further about Mingi, her attention is once again interrupted.

"Hey," a soft voice calls out from behind her.

"Oh, for fuck's sake, I just want to eat," she mutters under her breath, but when she turn around, she's greeted by Yeosang's face.

"Oh, hey babe," she says, wrapping her arms around Yeosang's frame, just below his own letterman jacket. He pats her head affectionately, and she continues walking, Yeosang taking Jongho's place by her side, his arm draped over her shoulder. "Oh, this is Yunho, Mingi's childhood friend. Yunho, meet Yeosang. Jjong and Yeo are our star quarterbacks; they practically carry the team," she laughs, introducing them to each other.

"Don't let Woo and San hear you say that, or they'll whine for days," Yeosang shudders in disgust, recalling the times when she mentioned things that made them believe she had a favorite among the eight boys. She laughs against him, and he finds himself enjoying the way her body shakes with amusement.

Yeosang then turns to Yunho, shaking his hand and nodding once as they make eye contact. "Welcome. Mingi mentioned that you were coming."

She gasps, clutching Yeosang's wrist in front of her and lightly digging her baby blue nails into his skin. "He told you too? Why didn't he tell me? I thought we told each other everything!"

Yeosang shrugs his shoulders, and with Jongho pushing open the doors of the cafeteria, the four of them enter and walk past the students scattered around. As they pass by, the students' eyes light up and they greet her with waves and friendly gestures. She reciprocates with a warm smile and waves of her own. It's evident that she is both well-known and well-liked among her peers.

She senses the tension emanating from the two quarterbacks beside her. Mistaking their annoyance at the attention she's getting for shyness, she reaches out and squeezes Yeosang's hand, feeling him squeeze back in response.

They finally reach the end of the cafeteria room, where the food counter is located. The options available for lunch consist of three combinations: penne pasta in a tomato-based marinara sauce with small meatballs, grilled chicken with a side of steamed vegetables, or a plant-based burger with a side of garlic bread. Each plate comes with a cupcake for dessert and a refreshing glass of lemonade to drink.

As they approach the food counter, Jongho reaches for the tray with the grilled chicken, only to have his hand swiftly slapped away by her. Her raised eyebrow and shocked expression silently convey her disapproval, and without uttering a word, she guides his hand towards the vegan tray instead. "But it has veggies!!, he whines and she glares at him. Jongho sighs and reluctantly grabs the vegan tray, rolling his eyes playfully as he moves behind them to let them choose their own plates.

Next in line is Yeosang, who reaches for the pasta option, but is met with another slap on his hand from her. Confused, he looks up at her, and she points to a lone meatball nestled on the side of the dish. Resigned, Yeosang lets out a sigh and reaches for the vegan tray, conceding defeat.

Yunho steps up to the trays, feeling her expectant gaze upon him. He turns to meet her big, doe-like eyes, and he finds himself unable to resist the unspoken request. Letting his hands guide him, he selects the vegan tray. A radiant smile spreads across her face as she slaps him on the back, the gesture strangely reminiscent of the way his dad had congratulated him when he made the decision to follow with basketball instead of baseball like his mother had wanted. Joining the two other boys, who had been observing the interaction with keen eyes, he settles in and waits for her to choose her food.

Jongho leans in, his voice a low whisper filled with a touch of disdain, "she's crazy about veganism don't mind her," he gazes with evident disgust at the trays before them, as if the mere sight of the vegan options is enough to make him cringe.

Yeosang nods in agreement, a small smile playing on his lips. "Yeah, she picked up on it recently and now the whole gang's forced to change our diet, or she'll throw a tantrum," he says, casually stretching his neck as he watches the girl express gratitude to the food lady.

Their words are laced with a hint of amusement, as if they find her quirks endearing even in their exasperation.

As she joins them, she playfully points a finger at Yeosang, her voice tinged with amusement, "I don't throw tantrums, Wooyoung does, what I do is present well-reasoned arguments with tears, it's different," She then turns her attention to Jongho, her finger now accusingly pointed at him, "and I'm not crazy, just... passionate, you wouldn't get that huh, you depressed bitch."

Jongho responds by lightly slapping the back of her head, a playful reprimand for her teasing. They continue walking towards the other set of large doors in the cafeteria, with her pouting and following behind Yeosang, clutching onto his vest. She leans in close, whispering, "Yeo, Jjong is being mean to me." Yeosang lets out a resigned sigh, his gaze shifting towards Yunho, as if seeking support or solace in the presence of their new acquaintance.

"See what I have to deal with everyday."

The group of students passes through the doors, and Yunho's eyes widen in awe at the breathtaking sight that greets him. Before him lies a greenhouse, its walls concealed by lush, trailing vines and an abundance of vibrant plants. Despite the dense foliage, sunlight streams in from the glass roof, casting a gentle glow on the surroundings. Overhead, plants intertwine, creating a canopy of greenery that adds to the enchanting atmosphere. His gaze sweeps across the scene, taking in the sight of small fruit-bearing trees, their branches heavy with oranges and apples. A thriving vegetable garden flourishes nearby, brimming with fresh produce. Colorful flowers adorn every inch of the ground, creating a vibrant tapestry of blossoms, while a stone pathway guides his way towards a table occupied by familiar faces, alongside two new individuals. One, with a similar armband to the president he had met earlier, must be Hongjoong, leaving the other as either San or Seonghwa, as she had mentioned. His observations come to a halt as she steps into his field of view, her radiant smile and plump cheeks capturing his attention. "You comin?" she asks, extending her hand towards him.

With a slight hesitation, Yunho takes her outstretched hand, feeling a warmth spread through him as their fingers intertwine. Blush obvious on his pale skin, she doesn't mention it. She leads him towards the table, her touch gentle yet firm. As they approach, she introduces him to the two individuals seated there, confirming the identities of Hongjoong and Seonghwa. The atmosphere is welcoming, and Yunho finds himself drawn into the friendly banter and easy camaraderie of the group. He takes a seat among them, feeling a sense of belonging settling over him.

He notices how Seonghwa pulls her on his lap, his affectionate gesture catches Yunho's attention, and he can't help but feel a twinge of unease. He scratches his head, uncertain of how to react in this unfamiliar situation. As he tentatively picks at his peculiarly greenish patty with his fingertip. Oh, the lengths Yunho would go to impress a girl he hardly knows. A random girl who's most likely already dating someone from her fucking harem, he can't help but think.

With a sigh, Yunho brings the small burger to his lips, the size of it seeming insignificant in his large hands. He takes a bite, trying to mask his distaste as the dry bread and peculiar flavors assault his taste buds. He swallows it with difficulty, suppressing any visible signs of disgust. Seeking respite, he lifts the cup of lemonade to his lips, closing his eyes momentarily as he takes a sip, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.

Meanwhile, he listens to her animated conversation with Hongjoong, her voice filled with complaints and the unfinished thoughts from earlier. And then, her attention turns to Seonghwa, her gaze fixed on him as she leans her chin against her own shoulder.

"Wait, where's Mingi?"

"He's talking to Mr. Zhang, apparently he got caught cheating for his dissertation, he might get a zero on it," Seonghwa murmurs, his voice muffled by the unsatisfying burger. He had initially wanted to go for the chicken option, but Hongjoong had reminded him of her preferences, and he reluctantly settled for the vegan tray. The food lady had given him a knowing look, as if aware of the compromise he had made.

"Pfft, I told him Mr. Zhang uses that crazy software, nothing gets past it," she comments with a mouthful of her own burger, her disappointment evident on her face. She quickly discards the burger onto her plate, exclaiming, "this tastes like shit oh my God."

The sudden attention of everyone at the table is drawn to her, and she looks around innocently, uttering a simple "what?" in response. One by one, they all join her in discarding their own meals onto their respective plates, emitting sighs of disappointment.

"Fuck thank you, I've been wanting to say that, is your phase over yet?" Hongjoong rubs his temples in exasperation, but his action is met with a swift kick to his thigh. Startled, he turns his attention to her, grabbing hold of her foot adorned with Doc Martens, playfully pulling her towards him. In response, she lets out a dramatic scream, clutching onto Seonghwa's shoulder tightly to prevent Hongjoong from separating them.

"It's not a phase," she emphasizes each word with a swift kick to his leg, her frustration evident. "And quit tugging at my leg like the beast you are, I'm a fucking lady!" Her voice carries a mix of exasperation and playfulness as she lets out a spirited scream. Bending over Seonghwa's forearm, with him securely holding her waist, she extends her arm to deliver punches to Hongjoong's shoulder.

"You, a lady?" Yeosang snorts from his seat, unable to contain his amusement.

"You shut the fuck up before I tell coach about how you used to bring girls to the locker room to do God knows what," she retorts, giving him a pointed look that leaves him momentarily speechless, causing him to choke on his lemonade.

"That was such a long time ago, what the fuck, I don't do that anymore," he responds, his voice laced with a mixture of embarrassment and denial. He closes his eyes tightly, shaking his head to dispel the unwanted memories. A shudder runs through his body as he recalls those past actions, prompting Jongho to burst into uncontrollable laughter, nearly toppling off his seat.

She clacks her middle finger and thumb together absentmindedly, her gaze lost in thought.

"Wait, I needed to say something to Seonghwa, but what was it again?" she mutters, her voice trailing off. At the mention of his name, Seonghwa perks up, humming curiously from behind her.

"The 4th local," Yunho's voice silently resonates in the greenhouse, and she instinctively moves her hand from the air to point at him, her mouth agape in realization.

"Yes!" she exclaims, her face lighting up, and Yunho grins in response. "Seonghwa, you guys— the basketball team, can't go to the 4th local today. The tennis girls are using it."

"What why!?" Seonghwa's grip tightens around her waist, his biceps visibly flexing under the uniform vest.

"Okay first, unhand me, you're literally gonna break my rib cage," she tugs at the sleeves of his grey uniform, urging him to release his hold. As he lets go, she takes the opportunity to position herself with one knee against the table, leaning forward to snatch the cupcake that was within Jongho's reach. His eyes snap towards her, and she playfully sticks out her tongue before taking a bite of the blueberry-flavored dessert. Seonghwa looks away, her buttocks right in front of his face, not wanting to invade her privacy or risk getting into trouble with the other boys at the table.

"Second," she begins, her mouth still full as she plops back down unceremoniously on his sturdy thighs, "they reserved it first."

"Damn it," he groans, resting his forehead against the back of her head, his eyes closing in frustration, "I'm gonna kill Chaerin, she didn't send the reservation mail on purpose."

"That's not a nice way to talk about your girlfriend," she mumbles, licking her fingers clean.

Yunho's head snaps towards them, unable to resist overhearing their conversation. He feels a pang of relief at the mention of Seonghwa having a girlfriend. As long as it's not her, he thinks to himself, and right after he finds himself internally chastising his own irrational reaction to a girl he had just met. His lips burn with the urge to ask the question, "Okay, so he has a girlfriend, but why are you sitting on his lap like that?" However, he manages to stop himself just in time, realizing that it might be prying into personal matters that he shouldn't delve into.

"He has a girlfriend? But you…" Yunho starts to speak but cuts himself off, not wanting to make things awkward if she was actually involved with Seonghwa in some way. However, the people at the table seem to grasp the unspoken words.

"Ugh, no, he's like my brother," she clarifies, rolling her eyes. "Everyone knows I don't date, especially not one of these," she playfully flips her hair behind her back, gesturing towards the boys surrounding her. As she does, her hair inadvertently slaps Seonghwa in the face, causing him to roll his eyes and playfully tug on one of her curls in response.

"They broke up," Jongho snatches back the muffin from her hand, glaring at her and baring his strong shoulders in an intimidating form when she opens her mouth to complain, "bitch— get your own cupcake, the fuck? Yeah, anyway he broke up with her like two days ago."

"Mine's carrot, I don't like it," she states, crossing her arms in a defiant gesture. The boys at the table can't resist but swoon at her adorable demeanor. Catching on to her playful manipulation, they each surrender their desserts to her with a smile. As she picks up Yeosang's lemon cake and prepares to take a bite, her motion halts abruptly, "wait, what did you say?"

Her eyes widen in surprise as she abruptly stands up, quickly moving behind Hongjoong for support. Clutching onto his matching sweater, she leans in closer to him, her voice filled with urgency. "Why did you break up?" she exclaims, her words carrying a mix of shock and concern.

"She was clingy," he replies casually, still engrossed in his phone. However, his sentence is abruptly cut short as a carrot cupcake smacks him right in the face. His eyes widen in surprise and he quickly looks up, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation. "What the fuc—" he begins to say, interrupted by the unexpected dessert attack.

"I told you not to speak about girls like that. She's gonna be the sixth this year, and it's only been five months since the year started! Seonghwa!!" she exclaims, her voice filled with a mix of frustration and disappointment. She continues to pout and whine his name as he returns his attention to his phone, casually wiping the cupcake off his cheek. "What if a boy treated me like you treat your girlfriends?" she questions, emphasizing her point and highlighting the double standard.

"I'd kill him," he responds in a matter-of-fact tone, causing her to let out a frustrated sigh. She tugs at the roots of her hair in defeat, realizing that her point might not be getting across as she had hoped.

"See how that makes no sense? Treat girls how you'd want me to be treated, you dick!" she retorts, her voice filled with frustration. Taking a big bite of the lemon cupcake in her hand, she chews on it aggressively, using the act as a way to channel her annoyance.

"I'd treat girls how I treat you when they start acting like you," he finally turns to look at her, his gaze piercing through her. The girl feels her face heat up under his intense stare and quickly averts her eyes, searching for a way to escape the awkwardness. Her gaze falls upon the other boys at the table, who seem to be observing the interaction with curiosity. Sensing the need to change the subject, she mutters something about meeting Seonghwa at the basketball court next to the football field, mentioning that it's empty for the day.

She swiftly moves past the boys, grabbing Yunho by the arm and leading him towards the door. However, she suddenly comes to a halt and quickly turns back towards the table. She snatches Seonghwa's cherry cupcake from his plate, adding it to her collection. Then, she returns to Yunho, taking hold of his hands once again, as if maneuvering him like a marionette.

"What are we doing here? I thought we were gonna go to the sport fields?" Yunho inquires, his voice trailing behind the girl who guides him through the familiar greenhouse they had explored during lunchtime.

"Yes, yes we are, I just don't wanna walk the whole way, I'm lazy, and— we're like an hour late," she reassures him, her voice laced with a mischievous tone. She gracefully maneuvers past the table where they had shared their meal, her eyes scanning the surroundings. "Ah, there it is! See that tree? There's a hidden door behind it. It's our secret passage to the boys' side."

Yunho raises an eyebrow, a mix of confusion and curiosity on his face. "A hidden door? Behind a tree? Shut up, are we in Narnia?"

She grins mischievously and continues walking, guiding him through the vibrant greenery of the greenhouse. As they reach a large tree with sprawling branches, she stops and points to a concealed door nestled among the leaves. It blends so seamlessly with its surroundings that it's almost camouflaged.

"Here it is," she announces triumphantly, pushing the door open to reveal a pathway that leads to the sports fields beyond. The sound of cheering and the thud of balls hitting the ground can be faintly heard in the distance. Yunho's eyes widen in amazement.

They step through, and his eyes widen at the sight before them—a vast open clearing adorned with two distinct fields. One is a sprawling green expanse, meticulously groomed for American football, while the other is a smaller basketball court with a solid concrete floor. The fields are flanked by a few bleachers and benches, providing a place for spectators to cheer on the athletes.

The scenery captivates his attention. The expansive football field stretches out seemingly endlessly, the vibrant green grass contrasting against the surrounding treeline. Beyond the trees, majestic mountains rise, their grandeur and magnitude evoking a sense of awe. The athletes moving across the field appear tiny in comparison, dwarfed by the immense natural beauty surrounding them.

A light mist hovers in the air, lending an ethereal atmosphere to the scene. Though the chill of the condensation graces their cheeks, they find themselves enveloped in a sense of tranquility and wonder. It's as if time stands still in this secluded sanctuary, offering a serene escape from the bustling world beyond.

As Yunho scans the surroundings, he notices the presence of three distinct cliques, each engaged in their own activities.

His gaze first lands on a group of eleven boys, adorned in sport attire, diligently following the commands of an older man who stands at the center. The sound of his booming voice fills the air as he passionately directs the boys through their paces, making them run laps between two white lines meticulously sprayed on the grass.

Shifting his attention to the basketball field, Yunho observes six boys divided into two teams of three, engaged in an intense match. The rhythmic sound of dribbling echoes as they skillfully maneuver the ball, their swift movements and strategic plays showcasing their love for the game.

Lastly, his gaze settles upon a group of girls, some dressed in crop tops and short shorts while others are dressed in a tracksuit, gathered near the benches in front of the football team and the bleachers. They engage in stretching exercises, their bodies gracefully extending and flexing as they prepare for their own athletic endeavors.

As Yunho's gaze sweeps across the scene, he notices a small figure seated in the center of the bleachers, engrossed in his artistic pursuit. The person's posture is slightly hunched over, their focus intense as they diligently sketch away with a pencil and sketchbook in hand. It doesn't take long for Yunho to recognize the familiar features of Hongjoong, the same individual who had been sitting with them earlier during lunch.

In that moment, the girl next to Yunho exclaims in a playful tone, her voice ringing through the air, "Hong! Are you going to draw me today, babe?" The sound of her voice draws his attention, causing Hongjoong to raise his head, a warm smile gracing his lips as he responds with a thumbs up. The girls seated in front of him catch wind of the interaction, and their faces light up with delight as their gazes shift to the source of the commotion, recognizing the girl who has captured Hongjoong's attention.

A chorus of excited voices erupts from the group of girls, a mix of "Eonnie!!" and her name flying out, as they jog up to the girl, their energy palpable. In their eagerness, they engulf her in a flurry of hugs, almost causing her to lose her balance if it weren't for Yunho's steadying grip on her back.

As the girls finally take notice of Yunho's presence, their attention shifts towards him. Among them, a mischievous smirk adorns the face of one girl, who playfully twirls a strand of her hair around her index finger. Her voice carries a hint of seduction as she mutters, "And who is that..." Her words trail off as she is promptly pushed away by another girl, who responds with an exasperated tone, "Ew, Kkura, gross! It's been barely a second since you met him, and you're already baring your teeth like some kind of animal."

"Don't be mad just because I caught his attention first, Chae," Sakura retorts, her words laced with playful banter.

"Eunchae, Garam, get behind me, I'll protect you from their hormones," the class president playfully interjects, guiding the two girls dressed in tracksuits to position themselves behind her. The trio bursts into laughter, enjoying the lighthearted moment, while the two older girls in front engage in a spirited verbal exchange.

Amidst the commotion, Yunjin leans closer to the president and whispers inquisitively, her gaze fixed on Yunho's tall frame, subtly checking him out. "But seriously, who is he?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.

"You have a boyfriend!" She exclaims in disbelief, her laughter echoing through the air. The girl raises her hand defensively, trying to fend off the playful accusation, "I'm asking for Kazuha!"

"Nu-uh, leave me out of it," the ballerina interjects with a yawn, her casual indifference contrasting with Yunjin's slightly annoyed expression. The younger girls find amusement in Yunjin's reaction, joining in with light giggles.

The girl dressed in her uniform takes notice of Yunho's discomfort, observing how his cheeks flush with embarrassment under the intense scrutiny of the two girls. She can't help but feel sorry for him. With a quick clap of her hands, she redirects their attention.

"All right girls, let him breathe," she intervenes, positioning herself between the boy and Sakura and Chaewon, allowing him to breathe a sigh of relief. "Go practice choreo number 13, I'll come back down when you guys are done."

The girls disperse, enthusiastically responding with "Yes, Pres!" They scatter off in different directions, leaving the girl to shake her head fondly. Her eyes reflect adoration as she watches Eunchae take charge of the speaker and her phone, diligently searching for the song they'll be practicing to.

"Come on, big boy, let's go get Mingki," she playfully nudges Yunho in Hongjoong's direction. Meanwhile, she turns around and positions her fingers in her mouth, creating a loud whistle that immediately grabs the attention of all the players on the field, both from the football and basketball teams. However, her eyes are specifically fixed on Mingi's tall figure.

As they lock eyes, she waves at him, signalling for him to join them. Seonghwa, observing the interaction, lets out an exasperated sigh, clearly annoyed by the situation.

"I'll borrow him for a second you big baby, just practice 3-pointers," she playfully taunts the captain of the basketball team, her eyes rolling in mock annoyance. The awkwardness they had felt during lunch seems to have faded away completely as they exchange smiles, their connection reestablished.

"Jagi!" she hears someone shouting, and she turns to see San, his face beaming with a sheen of sweat.

"Don't even think about it, you—" she cuts herself off when she locks eyes with the coach, who stands with his arms crossed over his chest, sending a shiver down her spine. She grimaces at San, and he pouts sadly before seeking solace in Yeosang's embrace, burying his head in his neck for comfort.

Mingi finally reaches them, bounding up the stairs two steps at a time, and he leaps into Yunho's arms. The two boys burst into laughter, exchanging heartfelt "I miss yous" as they revel in the surreal moment of being face to face. Hongjoong and the girl watch with a tender gaze, their eyes filled with a mixture of affection and nostalgia. The girl settles herself between Hongjoong's legs, resting on the floor, seeking the comforting presence of his touch. The towering figures of the two boys evoke a surge of emotions within her, reminding her of the times she'd come back from her summer vacations, jumping into the boys' ams.

"Man, I still can't believe I'm here," Yunho sighs.

Mingi, still beaming with joy, settles down beside Hongjoong, his contagious smile lighting up his face and causing his eyes to crinkle.

"I know, right? It's hard to believe," Mingi replies, his voice filled with genuine astonishment.

Yunho, his own smile hidden behind his hand, adds, "You've really grown up, man. I can't believe you're on the basketball team now."

The girl can't contain her excitement and playfully shakes Hongjoong's legs, interrupting their tender moment.

"Aww, you two are so cute, I can't," she exclaims, her voice filled with delight, bringing a lighthearted energy to the conversation.

The girl and Hongjoong allow Yunho and Mingi to have their moment, engaging in their own conversation as she flips through his sketchbook—a privilege reserved only for her. After about ten minutes, she closes the notebook and turns her attention to Yunho, her curiosity evident in her eyes.

"Hey, Yunho, I've got a question. I understand why Mingi ended up in this small town—he moved here because of his dad's job at the water plant," she points towards the direction of the factory, barely visible through the trees, situated on one of the distant mountains. "But what about you? Why would someone from Seoul come to a rundown boarding school in the middle of nowhere?"

Yunho takes a moment to gather his thoughts before responding.

"My step-dad... kinda forced me. It was either this or military schoo—"

"Baby!! Here's your backpack!!"

As Yunho begins to respond to the girl's question, their conversation is abruptly interrupted by San's excited scream. All heads turn towards the source of the noise, and the rest of the gang comes into view. San is leading the way, a wide smile on his face as he waves a sage green backpack—the girl's backpack. Wooyoung has his arm draped over San's shoulder, but his gaze is fixed on Yunho, his expression filled with confusion.

Meanwhile, Jongho is busy chugging a bottle of water, and in his haste, he ends up spitting some of it out, accidentally hitting Yeosang in the process. Yeosang looks at him with disgust before swiftly snatching the empty bottle from Jongho's hands and tossing it to the floor. Seonghwa, witnessing the commotion, pushes the back of Yeosang's head, causing him to stumble slightly. Yeosang turns to Seonghwa, clearly puzzled, and points at the discarded plastic bottle. Yeosang points back at Jongho, indicating that he should pick it up. The two engage in a silent argument, each trying to convey their point. Jongho has a shocked expression on his face, as if to say, "Why would I pick it up? You threw it on the floor!" The argument continues silently until Eunchae steps in, picking up the bottle and giving them an exasperated side-eye.

"San give me a hug baby," with a warm smile, the girl beckons San towards her, extending her arms in a welcoming gesture. San's face lights up, and he shoves Wooyoung aside, causing the older boy to let out a grunt. Excitedly, San practically leaps into the girl's waiting arms, anticipating a hug from his crush. However, instead of a gentle embrace, he finds her arms coiling around his neck, tightening and choking him from behind. The unexpected twist catches him off guard, eliciting laughter from the surrounding group.

With her forearm playfully pressed against San's Adam's apple and her hand positioned behind her other forearm, forming a unique frame next to his face, the girl maintains her mischievous hold on him. San playfully whines, his mock discomfort adding to the amusement of the others. In the midst of laughter, Mingi seizes the moment and quickly pulls out his phone, announcing, "Say cheese!" He points the camera towards San's face, prompting an instinctive reaction from the playful boy. San swiftly raises a peace sign next to his smiling face, revealing that his apparent weakness was merely a charade. The resulting snapshot captures a lighthearted moment, with both San and the girl flashing genuine smiles.

Taking advantage of the moment, she leans in close to San's ear, her voice hushed but firm. "San, I swear if you try another stunt like that, I'll personally make you regret it." Her warm breath tickles his ear, causing a shiver to run down his spine. She tightens her grip ever so slightly, emphasizing her point. San, feeling both intimidated and intrigued, responds with a quiet, almost squeaky, "Yes," acknowledging her warning.

As San is released from her grip, he swiftly turns around and pulls her into a tight embrace, leaning his body against hers. Meanwhile, Wooyoung's curious expression draws the attention of everyone around. He silently raises an eyebrow and directs his gaze toward Yunho, wearing a perplexed expression. It's clear that he's questioning Yunho's presence with his next comment, "what's he doin here?"

Mingi offers a brief explanation, trying to ease Wooyoung's annoyance. However, it doesn't seem to have the desired effect as Wooyoung remains visibly irritated. He sits down in silence, forcefully removing San's hands from the girl's body and placing her on his own lap, a clear display of his displeasure.

"Okay, no, Woo, you're too sweaty for skinship right now," she tries to get up, but he firmly pulls her back in, muttering a "shut up." She sighs in defeat, accepting her situation. She knows that Wooyoung can get anxious and quite possessive when new people try to join their close-knit circle, reminding her of his insecurities. Despite feeling the stickiness of his sweaty forearms on her thighs, she lets him be, knowing it provides him some sense of comfort and security.

As the rest of the group joins them, Hongjoong takes notice of the continued work of their respective teams. He adjusts his glasses with the hand still holding the pencil, a sign that he's about to ask a question.

"Why are you guys here?" he inquires, curiosity evident in his voice.

Seonghwa, not one to miss a chance for a sarcastic remark, quickly responds, "Um, fuck you? If you want us to leave, just say it directly." He lifts his head from the game app on his phone, expecting a round of laughter at his obvious joke. However, he's met with Hongjoong's tired gaze, and the room falls silent. Realizing the serious tone, Seonghwa pouts and adds, "Y'all suck at taking jokes. I'm the captain, I can take a break whenever I want." He glances back down at his phone, finally addressing Hongjoong's question.

"Coach gave us a break to relax, but he still needs to take care of the younger ones," Yeosang explains, his voice muffled slightly by the protein bar he's munching on.

Hongjoong nods in understanding. "I see. Well, enjoy your break while it lasts. Just make sure to be ready when practice resumes," he advises, his tone carrying a hint of authority.

Mingi playfully rolls his eyes. "You're not on either team, and yet you still act like you lead us or some shit," he snickers, his voice filled with playful mockery.

"I'm the president!" Hongjoong retorts with a hint of pride.

"Well, I don't see yn acting like that!" Mingi replies, and at the mention of her name, the girl stops playing with Wooyoung's fingers and lifts her head in confusion. "Huh?"

Before Mingi can persuade her to join in teasing Hongjoong, Yunjin calls out to her from under the bleachers. "We're done with the choreography! Pull up!"

The class president beams with excitement and tries to get up, but Wooyoung refuses to let her go. She slaps at his hands, but he still holds on tightly. Frustrated, she turns to him, silently mouthing "What the fuck," and he smirks mischievously, pointing at his cheek. She rolls her eyes and decides to retaliate by biting his jaw instead of kissing him. Wooyoung yelps in surprise, releasing his grip on her, and she takes the opportunity to get up, blowing him a flying kiss as she laughs mischievously while descending the stairs.

Arriving at the practice area, she begins to change her outfit. She pulls down her skirt, revealing black spandex sport shorts, and the girls around her playfully scream and tease her, drawing the attention of the boys on the bleachers. As she takes off her oversized sweater, leaving her in a casual black crop top, she hears whistles from the boys on the bleachers, with San and Wooyoung enthusiastically cheering and clapping for her. She laughs and playfully picks up her imaginary skirt, pretending to curtsy. The boys on the bleachers burst into laughter, but as she hears a comment about her "nice thighs!" from behind, she freezes. Before she can even turn around to confront the boy from the football team, Jongho intervenes and shouts some stern words, causing the boy to apologize nervously.

She responds to Jongho's protective gesture by making a heart sign towards him, and the young boy playfully reciprocates with a flying kiss. Her grin widens as she sits down, grabbing her bag and taking out her New Balance sneakers. She unties the laces of her current shoes and starts putting on the new ones, carefully securing them and making sure they fit perfectly.

Silence.

As she finishes tying the laces of her last shoe, a hushed stillness settles in the air, causing a chill to run down her spine. The once lively atmosphere now feels tense and unsettling. She scans her surroundings, searching for the source of the eerie silence that has fallen upon the area on her right. Not everyone seems to be affected, just the boys on the two fields, their playful exchanges and laughter replaced by an unnerving quietude. Some individuals exhibit twitching movements, prompting concerned inquiries from those unaffected, like the main coach who's shaking Minjae who's spasming lightly, confused because the younger boy seemed normal not even twenty seconds ago.

A strange sensation tugs at her senses, drawing her attention to a pair of eyes fixed upon her. Slowly, she turns her head, her heart racing with anticipation as she looks past the girls laughing. Her gaze locks with the intense stare of a mysterious figure positioned at the edge of the clearing. The stranger's presence feels heavy and unfamiliar, sending shivers down her spine. Squinting her eyes, she tries to discern the features of the distant figure, but the thickening mist obscures their identity. Despite the veil of mist, she observes the person's body twitching, yet they remain rooted in place, further adding to the sense of unease that permeates the air.

Suddenly, an explosion reverberates through the air, causing everyone's attention to snap towards the water factory. Their eyes widen in shock as they witness half of the building crumbling down, engulfed in a devastating blast. A mushroom-shaped cloud billows above the wreckage, casting a haunting shadow over the once familiar structure. The force of the explosion sends shockwaves through their bodies, leaving them frozen in disbelief at the unfolding chaos.

Amidst the chaos, her ears ring with a deafening sound, drowning out the surrounding screams and cries for help. The world around her blurs as her senses struggle to comprehend the magnitude of the situation. The ringing in her ears intensifies, becoming an overwhelming cacophony that threatens to drown out her thoughts. She clutches her head, trying to find a semblance of clarity amidst the disorienting noise, her heart pounding in her chest.

As the forceful gust of wind generated by the explosion engulfs them, she is sent tumbling to the ground, helpless against its powerful impact. Before panic can fully take hold, strong arms wrap around her, pulling her close. It's Yeosang, his presence a reassuring anchor amidst the chaos. As she looks around, she realizes that all the boys, her trusted friends, have taken cover, shielding her from the brunt of the blast. Their collective instinct to protect her shines through, their unwavering loyalty on full display in this moment of turmoil. A mixture of gratitude and concern floods her heart as she takes in the sight of them, noticing how even Yunho's tall frame is present.

Before a single cry or scream can escape their lips, a gurgling sound reverberates through the air, drawing their attention to the fields. With a collective sense of dread, they turn to face the source of the eerie noise, only to witness a sight that chills them to their very core. The bodies of their friends, once lively and full of vitality, now stand motionless, their movements reduced to sporadic twitches.

A deafening silence ensues, broken only by the sudden retching of the boys. A horrifying spectacle unfolds before their eyes as a crimson liquid violently spews forth from every orifice. Mouths, noses, eyes, and ears become fountains of grotesque expulsion. It is a sight that defies all logic and comprehension, leaving them frozen in disbelief and horror.

Yet, amidst the chaotic display of bodily torment, an unnatural stillness persists. The boys, though engulfed in their own bodily purging, remain eerily immobile. They do not writhe in pain or clutch their stomachs as one might expect. Instead, they stand like statues, allowing the red fluid to cascade onto the ground below. Their eyes, once vibrant and expressive, now widen with an otherworldly intensity. Thick crimson veins begin to snake across the whites of their eyes, growing darker and more pronounced with each passing moment, like ominous tributaries on a map of terror.

They stop.

A chilling stillness descends upon the scene as the expulsion of the crimson liquid abruptly ceases. The boys, their bodies drenched in the unsettling aftermath, remain frozen in place. No movement. No sound. They stand like statues, trapped in a nightmarish tableau.

Silence hangs heavy in the aftermath, enveloping the scene with an eerie stillness. The players who remain untouched by the gruesome ordeal are left in a state of shock, their faces streaked with tears, their mouths agape in silent horror. Their trembling bodies bear witness to the overwhelming weight of the unfathomable events unfolding before them.

Amidst the unsettling situation, the coach, his face smeared with congealed blood, shakes off the haze of confusion and takes charge. He reaches out, his hands firmly grasping Minjae's shoulders, his voice trembling with concern and fear, laced with the unmistakable cadence of his Busan dialect.

"Hey, son, are you alright? Can you hear me? Breathe, boy," he implores, his own complexion drained of color beneath the crimson stains as he stares at Minjae's bloody chin, his Real Madrid t-shirt drenched in blood. His words serve as a catalyst, stirring a flicker of response within the dazed players.

As if pulled back from the abyss of their stupor, the afflicted players turn their heads to gaze upon their coach, their eyes wide but emotionless. Their attention then snaps skyward, and in a collective crescendo, they unleash an agonizing scream that reverberates through the air, causing a shiver to course through the onlookers' spines.

The situation takes a horrifying turn as Minjae lunges towards the coach, embracing him tightly and burying his face in the coach's neck. The shocking realization dawns on everyone as Minjae emerges from his gruesome embrace, a grisly piece of the coach's larynx clenched between his teeth. Strands of skin still connect the gruesome morsel to the coach's throat, causing him to convulse and gurgle amidst the sea of his own blood.

Everyone screams.

Which seems to catch the attention of the other boys. Without hesitation, they give chase to their fellow teammates, swiftly overtaking them and leaping onto their backs. The air is filled with a macabre symphony of gnawing and crunching as they devour the bones and delve into the entrails of their unfortunate victims.

The class president, overwhelmed by fear, finds herself in a state of paralyzing terror. Tears cascade down her face, a clear manifestation of her profound distress. The weight of her emotions renders her legs immobile, leaving her trembling uncontrollably. Despite her desperate attempts to move, the overwhelming fear pulsating through her body proves insurmountable, binding her in place.

In the midst of her distress, she becomes aware of someone tugging at her, seeking to guide her to safety. However, her attention remains fixated on the overwhelming sensation of dryness in her throat. The weight of her fear becomes suffocating, and she longs to release it through a primal scream, hoping to alleviate the terror that grips her.

Abruptly, a sharp slap against her cheek breaks through the haze, snapping her back to reality with a resounding impact. The abrupt noise resonates within her, shaking her to her core and jarring her senses awake. In the midst of her heightened emotions, she lets out a heartfelt sob, tears streaming down her face as she gazes into Mingi's visage. The ashen hue on his face mirrors her own fear, a shared understanding of the imminent danger that surrounds them.

Startled by the urgency in the voice behind her, she registers the familiar tone of Hongjoong's commanding presence. The words "Move! Move! Move!" echo in her ears, compelling her to take action despite her trembling limbs and overwhelming fear.

Supported by Mingi's sturdy arms, she rises to her feet, her wobbly legs struggling to find stability. Turning to face him, she sees the confusion mirrored in his eyes, a reflection of her own disorientation. The surge of adrenaline courses through her veins, finally awakening her body to action. In the midst of chaos, she knows she must make a decision, but the overwhelming rush of emotions makes it difficult to discern the right path to take.

"To the shed, the fucking shed, everyone!" Startled by Hongjoong's urgent command, everyone's attention swiftly shifts towards the solitary brown cabin standing on the side. As her gaze fixates on the distant shed, its perceived distance seems to amplify her fear, causing tears to stream down her face uncontrollably. Mingi, sensing her distress, takes hold of her and guides her towards the shelter, but the overwhelming sense of dread threatens to paralyze her.

A sudden realization dawns upon her, and she becomes acutely aware that she is the only girl amidst a sea of boys. In a surge of panic, she wrenches herself free from Mingi's grasp and bolts back towards her previous position. Mingi's voice reverberates through the air, filled with urgency and concern, pleading for her to return, while the boys halt in their tracks, alarmed for her well-being.

With swift determination, she races back to her group of girls who huddle on the ground, their tears flowing freely. Her heart skips a beat as she spots one of the bloodied and deranged players noticing their presence, intensifying her sense of urgency. She manages to maintain her balance and propels herself forward, pushing her limits and sprinting even faster, propelled by a surge of adrenaline.

The boys behind her erupt in alarmed screams, their voices filled with urgency and fear. They, too, have noticed the approaching lunatic, his tongue lolling out and his bloodshot eyes revealing a disturbing state of mind.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the situation, she drops to her knees in front of Sakura, her voice trembling as she urges her friend to sit and gestures towards Kazuha and Chaewon, instinctively seeking safety in their familiar presence. With a determined expression, the class president rises to her feet, firmly grasping Yunjin and Garam's hands and directing their attention to the nearby shed. Her voice, filled with a mix of desperation and courage, pierces the air as she implores them to run.

As Eunchae's horrified screams fill the air, she swiftly turns towards her, a surge of fear coursing through her veins. With her heart pounding in her chest, she witnesses the chilling sight of a bloodied Jinsik standing just a meter away from the sobbing girl on the ground. Overwhelmed by a surge of adrenaline, she acts on instinct, lunging towards Eunchae in a desperate attempt to shield her from any impending danger. In her heightened state, she remains fixated on Jinsik's unnerving movements, her eyes locked on his presence, fear gripping at her throat.

In that surreal moment of realization, time seems to stretch out endlessly. As the girl comprehends the inevitable fate that awaits her, she releases a soft exhale, her grip tightening around the trembling form of Eunchae, tears mingling with those of the distressed girl. The pungent scent of the fresh blood permeates the air, a grim reminder of the approaching danger. Despite the overwhelming despair, a fragile smile quivers on her lips, a bittersweet acceptance of the inevitable, as she embraces the prospect of death with a sense of hopeless surrender.

In a sudden turn of events, a figure emerges from behind her, and she instinctively recognizes Yunho's distinctive long hair as he hurtles towards Jinsik with incredible force, colliding shoulder-first. The impact is jarring, sending the younger boy flying through the air, his neck contorting unnaturally as it twists 180 degrees. Amidst the chaos, there is no time to assess his condition as another presence grabs hold of her from behind. Raising her head, she finds herself face to face with Wooyoung, his determined expression urging them forward. With swift movements, he lifts both girls from the ground and propels them in the direction of the shed.

Wooyoung shifts his attention to Yunho, who stands frozen, his gaze fixated on the lifeless body before him. In that moment, Wooyoung realizes that Yunho's fear stems not from the immediate danger or the possibility of retaliation, but from the profound realization that he has just taken another person's life.

Wooyoung's voice trembles with a mixture of concern and reassurance as he calls out to the boy in front of him with urgency. "Yunho!" he exclaims, his tone serious and filled with genuine emotion. Yunho turns to face him, tears welling up in his eyes, the weight of his actions evident on his trembling lips. Wooyoung's words carry a comforting tone as he offers a heartfelt affirmation to the person who just saved his friend's life, acknowledging the difficult choice Yunho had to make. "You did good," he says.

Wooyoung's voice takes on a sharp edge as he snaps at Yunho, urgency in his tone. "Now move." he commands, his words pushing them both into action. However, their attention is abruptly diverted by an unexpected sound. A gurgle emanates from Jinsik's lifeless body sprawled on the ground. The boys exchange a startled glance, their eyes fixed on the source of the sound. A dead body shouldn't do that. A dead body doesn't make noise.

A sense of unease fills the air as Jinsik's lifeless body defies all expectations. His hand twitches, a disturbing sign of movement, and he slowly begins to rise. His upper body remains in a grotesque position on the floor, while his lower body stands upright. His head hangs limply to the side, an unnatural angle for a human neck. It's a horrifying sight as bones protrude painfully beneath the skin, contorting his neck into an unsettling shape.

Shock and disbelief fill Yunho's whispered exclamation, "what the fuck." The mangled body of Jinsik abruptly turns its attention towards him, swiftly darting in his direction with an unsettling speed.

Wooyoung's hoarse voice breaks through, urgently commanding Yunho to "fucking run!!". Surprisingly, Yunho finds a surge of strength within him, spurred on by Wooyoung's frantic plea. They both break into a sprint, their hearts pounding in their chests, while Jinsik's bloodcurdling screams echo behind them.

Gasping for breath, Yunho and Wooyoung catch up to the rest of the group, their pounding footsteps bringing them to the front of the shed.

Frantically pounding on the door, Yunho and Wooyoung shout to the people inside, desperately trying to make them aware of their presence. Wooyoung's gaze flicks back to the approaching horde of Jinsik and the other distorted boys, urging him to intensify his efforts in knocking on the door.

The muffled sounds of voices arguing can be heard from inside the cabin, indicating a disagreement among the occupants about whether or not to open the door. The fear in the air is palpable, as some students hesitate to confront the horrifying reality outside.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, Yunho finds solace in his prayers, seeking comfort and strength in the midst of the chaos. Leaning his head against the door, he embraces a brief moment of respite, hoping for a miracle to unfold.

Overwhelmed by exhaustion, Wooyoung is on the verge of following Yunho's lead and tries to find the words to pray when the door suddenly opens. In a rush, Yunho stumbles into the cabin, losing his balance as he seeks refuge from the relentless pursuit

Overwhelmed by the unexpected turn of events, Wooyoung's eyes widen in shock as their class president opens the door. He takes in her disheveled appearance, tears streaming down her cheeks, and her heaving chest from exertion. As she grabs his arms, she forcefully pushes both of them inside the cabin, causing them to stumble and fall onto the floor. In the fall, Wooyoung lands on top of her body, momentarily disoriented. Meanwhile, San swiftly slams the door shut, sealing them off from the menacing presence of the bloodied players.

Jongho and Yeosang swiftly join San, realizing the urgent need to reinforce the door against the relentless onslaught of the deranged players. Together, they apply their collective strength, pressing against the door with all their might. The screams and frantic movements of the frenzied individuals outside grow even more desperate as they violently hurl themselves at the barrier, driven by a ravenous hunger for whatever lies within.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, the girl clings tightly to Wooyoung, seeking his comforting presence as a source of strength. Tears stream down her face as she buries her face in his arms, releasing the pent-up emotions that have gripped her. Wooyoung, with closed eyes, presses his face against her hair, finding solace in the familiar scent that surrounds her. His own tears fall freely, mingling with her hair as an expression of shared vulnerability. In a tender gesture, she pulls back slightly, and he gently wipes away the tears from her cheeks, showering them with soft, affectionate kisses.

Filled with overwhelming emotions, the girl shifts her attention to Yunho, extending her hand towards him. Tears continue to flow down Yunho's face as he lowers himself, squatting beside the tearful duo. In a moment of disbelief, the girl lets out a soft laugh, expressing her gratitude for his presence. She clasps his hand tightly, bringing it gently to her lips, pressing a tender kiss against his skin as she closes her eyes. With a heartfelt whisper, she softly utters a grateful "thank you" against his hand, causing Yunho to hide his face behind his large hand, his body trembling with emotion.

"Eonnie," a cry echoes from the background, capturing her attention. She swiftly turns to face Eunchae, her younger friend, who stands there with tears streaming down her face. The girl releases herself from Wooyoung's embrace and rushes over to Eunchae, enfolding her in a tight hug. They both sob uncontrollably. As the rest of the girls witness the emotional scene, they too approach, one by one, joining in the comforting embrace. The cabin resonates with their collective sobs, allowing them to release the pent-up emotions.

Gradually, their sobs begin to subside, and the other boys respectfully give them space, understanding the significance of the moment. However, their temporary respite is abruptly shattered when someone lets out a scream, jolting everyone back into alertness.

"Okay, shut up, we get it!" Joongki's voice reverberates through the room, his frustration evident as he ruffles his hair in exasperation. The girls flinch, startled by his sudden outburst. "You're not the only ones who almost died, stop fucking crying."

Seonghwa, taken aback by Joongki's words, swiftly pivots towards him, shielding the girls from his view. With a firm grip on Joongki's shirt, he pulls him closer, their faces mere inches apart. "What the fuck did you just say?" Seonghwa's voice seethes with anger, his forearm exerting pressure on Joongki's chest. "Huh? Wanna say that to my face you bitch?"

As tensions rise, Joongki's friends quickly move to restrain him, understanding the dire consequences of his anger escalating further. They hold him back, their arms forming a barrier between him and Seonghwa, trying to prevent any physical altercation. Meanwhile, San and Hongjoong step in, their voices calm but authoritative, attempting to defuse the heated situation.

"What are you gonna do about it, ah? I'll say whatever the fuck I want to" Joongki retorts, his voice laced with defiance as he meets Seonghwa's gaze head-on. The tension in the room escalates, both boys locked in a heated confrontation. Seonghwa's forehead veins bulge, his anger palpable.

To everyone's surprise, Seonghwa bursts into a disbelieving laughter. He releases his grip on Joongki and turns his attention towards the girls. The tension begins to dissipate.

However, in a swift and unexpected move, Seonghwa swiftly turns back to face Joongki, his fist connecting with the boy's face. Joongki crumples to the floor, his hand instinctively clutching his injured cheekbone, a pained grunt escaping his lips.

Pandemonium ensues as Joongki friends' charge towards Seonghwa, their anger fueling their actions. But they are met with a swift and fierce retaliation from seven other individuals who step forward, fists at the ready.

Punches fly through the air, landing with a resounding impact, as the room becomes a chaotic battleground.

A piercing scream echoes through the room, causing the boys to abruptly cease their fighting and hurling insults. All attention turns to Garam, who stands frozen, mouth agape, a look of horror etched across her face as she expels red blood onto the floor. Her eyes dart around desperately, searching for someone, anyone, to lend a hand, but all she encounters are fearful gazes.

Garam reaches out for Eunchae, but Kazuha quickly intervenes, shielding her from harm, pulling her behind her. Hongjoong swiftly maneuvers through the chaos, securing his position as the leader by stepping in front of his closest female friend and ushering her to safety, careful not to let her get closer to Garam's distressing state.

"Hongjoong, let me go," she pleads, her voice trembling behind him, her eyes locked onto Garam's terrified form, now crying tears of blood. "Hongjoong let me fucking go, I have to do something!" Her desperation grows, and tears well up in her eyes once again, but his grip only tightens around her. Jongho joins them, holding the girl as well, fearful of any sudden movements.

"Please... help me," Garam gurgles, her eyes turning red.

author's note: yall i just finished writing this and it's like at 5am, im so scared rn i cant go to sleep. im acc curious, did you guys think the last part was scary because i personnally think i was more scared of the scenes i imagined in my head than the text (idk if that makes sense), feel free to tell me in the comments or the asks, also rip minjae, jinsik, garam, u guys were luved.

yuyu and wooyo's reactions when he acc killed jinsik

masterlist

#apocalyptic amour #ateez #x reader #mingi #san #wooyoung #yeosang #yunho #hongjoong #jongho #seonghwa #fluff #imagines #scenarios #reverse harem #poly #ot8 x reader #horror #apocalypse #zombie #gore #x you #x y/n #x yn

[pauking5]

Seeking comfort from an idiot

enishi yukishiro x fem reader

A/N: This is a quick wip on pair with the Addicting Taste lore but can be a standalone (if you squint). Here's a little comfort fic with my favorite idiot to soothe my monthly torture. Hope it helps yours a little too. Enjoy!

Part 2 😉

"Let me get this straight."

"Yes, Enishi," you say exasperated, a hand held to your forehead.

You were sat on the couch in his office, explaining the suffering ovary owners go through every month to him. He seemed utterly confused at every new piece of information you were telling him. He made a great effort in understanding your current predicament, despite asking the stupidest questions known to mankind.

"You just randomly bleed out every month?"

"Yes," you sighed a little annoyed.

"Willingly?"

"Oh my god, you're an idiot."

"What do you mean I'm an idiot? It's not my fault I don't know anything about these things."

The migraine brewing in your head was mostly because of your period, partly due to his stupid questions. There was no way this man was raised by a woman.

"I just explained it to you!" you yelled as he lifted his hands up in surrender.

You felt a wave of discomfort slowly crawl up your abdomen and sunk back into the couch hoping to alleviate it. The stiff cushions did little to help, making you more uncomfortable than they should have. Everything was making you sensitive and the only thing that would help was your bed.

"Enishi?" you called his name in a tiny voice only to get a hum in response.

"Bed," you say, making grabby hands at him. The simple word should have been enough of a hint about what you wanted but his brain didn't seem to catch the obvious.

"What about the bed?" he asked earning a groan from you. Your hormones were getting the best of you as you struggled to keep the murderous intentions inside.

"I want to go to bed," you say through gritted teeth as you repeated the grabby hands, adding a smile at the end. If you didn't hit the bed soon your insides would turn into a torture chamber.

"Then go-"

"You idiot, CAN YOU PLEASE TAKE ME TO BED-" you yelled but stopped as a big cramp wrecked your middle, making you crumple into a ball on the couch. You shut your eyes tight and gripped your abdomen trying to ride out the waves of pain.

He mumbled a few curses under his breath as he moved to your spot. Sliding his strong arms under your legs and securing your back, he lifted you up carefully trying to not make your pain worse.

He made a move towards your room as you leaned your head on his shoulder, curling yourself into him as much as you could. He felt weirdly warm today, a comforting heat radiating off his body. The sweet relief was short lived as another wave of cramps wrecked your body making you whine.

You hated feeling this helpless every single month, unable to do anything about it, except suffer in silence until the pain would subside by itself. Showing your weakness to Enishi of all people made you feel even shittier about yourself. He was the kind of person to brave through an injury no matter how painful it felt, so it was normal to feel a little mad about it as you asked him to carry you to your room.

He gently let you down on the bed and you turned on your side, gripping his hand as you sat him on the edge next to you. The pain was only getting worse and you needed immediate relief before you would pass out, freaking out a clueless Enishi even more.

"What can I do to help?"

"Nothing," you choked as a violent cramp was trying to dismantle your uterus.

He racked his brain for a solution until he settled on a forgotten memory of his sister. He was wandering aimlessly around the woods until he stumbled and fell, scraping his knee on a rock. As Tomoe patched him up, he recalled her saying something about warmth being the cure for almost all pain.

He wasn't sure if she meant it rhetorically or if it was actually a remedy he could use. Hell, he would try anything to put you out of your misery right now even if it sounded like a fable.

Doubtful if it would work, he took to rubbing your lower back in slow circles to create some warmth, waiting for your reaction. The action relieved some of your pain and you sighed in content, giving Enishi the confirmation that he was doing something useful. The more heat his palm generated, the more your cramps were decreasing in intensity. Maybe he wasn't that useless when it came to comfort as you thought.

The consistent rhythm of his hand lulled you and you were fast asleep before you knew it. Enishi smiled softly at your pouty face, puffing up against the pillow as a few light snores escaped you. He brushed a few stray hairs away from your face and hooked them up behind your ear. Grabbing a hold of your blanket he draped it over you so you would stay warm.

He wished he could do more for you. Seeing you in this much pain was driving him mad. He couldn't believe the fact that you were going through this every month. It made him admire your strength even more than he already did. He was sure as hell that if he was the one bleeding out every month he wouldn't be able to handle it.

A battle wound could heal within a few days. But this was a constant pain lasting for more than a few days, making normal everyday tasks become a struggle. No one should go through this kind of pain, especially you.

You whimpered in your sleep as his hand stopped rubbing your back. He chuckled as he turned back to his job, a small smile pulling at your lips in your sleep. You wriggled closer to him seeking the warmth of his hand rather than the blanket.

It seemed so easy to comfort you without doing too much but just being there for you. He was willing to do anything to help you during this time, no matter what you asked of him. If rubbing your back was what you needed he would gladly comply with it for as long as you needed him to.

Thank you for reading! As always, comments, notes and reblogs are welcome :)

#enishi yukishiro #enishi yukishiro x reader #enishi yukishiro comfort #enishi yukishiro x you #enishi yukishiro fluff #where do i get me an enishi too #i feel lonely now smh #kinda did it to myself

[haveyoulistenedtothisalbum-poll]

Tracklist:

Concerning the UFO Sighting Near Highland, Illinois • The Black Hawk War, or, How to Demolish an Entire Civilization and Still Feel Good About Yourself in the Morning, or, We Apologize for the Inconvenience but You're Going to Have to Leave Now, or, 'I Have Fought the Big Knives and Will Continue to Fight Them Until They Are Off Our Lands!' • Come On! Feel the Illinoise! (Part I: The World's Columbian Exposition — Part II: Carl Sandburg Visits Me in a Dream) • John Wayne Gacy, Jr. • Jacksonville (free) • A short reprise for Mary Todd, who went insane, but for very good reasons • Decatur, or, Round of Applause for Your Stepmother! • One Last 'Whoo-Hoo!' for the Pullman • Chicago • Casimir Pulaski Day • To the Workers of the Rock River Valley Region, I have an idea concerning your predicament • The Man of Metropolis Steals Our Hearts • Prairie Fire That Wanders About • A conjunction of drones simulating the way in which Sufjan Stevens has an existential crisis in the Great Godfrey Maze • The Predatory Wasp of the Palisades Is Out to Get Us! • They Are Night Zombies!! They Are Neighbors!! They Have Come Back from the Dead!! Ahhhh! • Let's hear that string part again, because I don't think they heard it all the way out in Bushnell • In This Temple as in the Hearts of Man for Whom He Saved the Earth" • The Seer's Tower • The Tallest Man, the Broadest Shoulders (Part I: The Great Frontier — Part II: Come to Me Only with Playthings Now) • Riffs and Variations on a Single Note for Jelly Roll, Earl Hines, Louis Armstrong, Baby Dodds, and the King of Swing, to name a few • Out of Egypt, into the Great Laugh of Mankind, and I shake the dirt from my sandals as I run

Spotify ♪ Bandcamp ♪ YouTube

#hyltta-polls #polls #artist: sufjan stevens #language: english #decade: 2000s #Chamber Pop #Singer-Songwriter #Chamber Folk #Progressive Pop #Americana #Folk Pop #Indie Folk #Minimalism

[unproblematicme]

Chains

“Please,” the sinner said again.

“Nope.” Crowley shrugged. “There’s no hope for you.”

“I am not asking for hope.”

“Good. You’re really in the wrong place for hope.”

Nodding in appreciation, Crowley admired the man’s predicament. Sometimes, he felt for the poor souls he brought here. Sometimes, he understood their deed. Now, however, pity was far from his mind. After all, he knew that every single one of the hellfire forged chains that bound the sinner to his cage stood for an act of greed that made his fellow humans suffer. And there were many chains. Too many to count.

A creative punishment. Probably Dagon’s idea. She was the only one beside Crowley down here who had a creative streak in her cursed soul.

Again, the man’s voice ripped Crowley out of his thoughts.

“It’s not about me,” he said.

Crowley looked at the chains, then into the sinner’s file and back at the sinner. He raised his brows and answered with a dark smile, “Well, that would be a first, wouldn’t it?”

“It’s about my friend,” the sinner said unfazed. “My colleague…business partner… he’s much like me.”

“Well, in that case, I suppose you’ll see him soon.”

“I hope not too soon,” the sinner said. “He’s younger than me. Much younger. He was a young lad when I took him under my wing. A child almost. I became the father he never had.”

Again, Crowley’s gaze fell on the file. 

“Poor bastard,” he said drily.

“Yes!” cried the sinner. “He deserved a better father. I led him on this path. It’s my fault he is heading right this way. Please…”

Crowley hesitated. He had accompanied mankind from the beginning. Soon he had realised that every man was shaped by the fathers he knew… for better or worse.

The sinner begged, “Just… let me warn him.”

Worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, Crowley contemplated the request. Finally, Crowley turned to the sinner with a strict expression and pointed a finger at him.

“There is no hope for you,” he said. “None.”

“I know.” The sinner nodded.

“I can’t free you,” Crowley said. “But I can lengthen the chains so you can reach Earth. And I know some people you might be able to help.”

With tears, falling from his empty eyes, the sinner thanked him, before rushing away, the heavy chains rattling behind him. As Crowley pulled him back an hour later, binding the sinner close to the cage bars again, the sinner was much calmer, smiling even, despite the grim fate awaiting him.

“Thank you for your kindn…” the sinner began but Crowley hissed at him.

“Don’t… not the place for that.”

Silently, the man nodded his acknowledgment. When Crowley closed the hanging cage, a subtle movement caught his eye. One of the chains rattled, slowly first but ever faster, until it finally snapped, pulled away and vanished into the endless voids of Hell. 

The sinner didn’t appear to notice. He just smiled and stared into the vastness around him. 

Well, one chain of countless hardly made a difference, right? So no need to report it.

With relief, Crowley noted that his time down here was done anyway and he was due to return to Earth. As he walked away, he threw one last glance over his shoulder.

“Happy eternity, Jacob Marley.“

#good omens fanfiction #a christmas carol fanfiction #good omens #a christmas carol #crowley

[nothingbutthetruth]

#club of rome #limits to growth #dennis meadows #overpopulation #Predicament Of Mankind

[anniekoh]

From the Arab Film Institute, a virtual film festival

PALESTINIAN VOICES will run until the end of the year. You can watch most of the films in this series online and from anywhere in the world. A few titles are limited to viewers in the United States and some films will also screen in person in select cities.

At the Arab Film and Media Institute (AFMI) we seek to continually change the narrative, share our stories, and foster understanding of our common humanity through art and storytelling.  In this dire time, we want to share a selection of films that showcase the history, culture and people of Palestine.

Our hope is that this free program, entitled PALESTINIAN VOICES, can be a resource to provide insight into the current situation unfolding in Gaza and the people being affected.

A few of the available films

Palestinian Voices: PEOPLE OF THE LAND

Palestinian Voices: FROM UNDER THE RUBBLE

Palestinian Voices: Between Two Crossings

Palestinian Voices: Unspoken

I'm especially interested in viewing this

Palestinian Voices: Larissa Sansour’s Sci-Fi Trilogy

Under the common themes of loss, belonging, heritage and national identity, the three films A Space Exodus (2008), Nation Estate (2012) and In the Future They Ate from the Finest Porcelain (2015) each explore different aspects of the political turmoil the Middle East.

While A Space Exodus envisions the final uprootedness of the Palestinian experience and takes the current political predicament to its extra-terrestrial extreme by landing the first Palestinian on the moon, Nation Estate reveals a sinister account of an entire population restricted to a single skyscraper, with each Palestinian city confined to a single floor. In the trilogy’s final installment, In the Future They Ate from the Finest Porcelain, a narrative resistance leader engages in archaeological warfare in a desperate attempt to secure the future of her people. Using the language of sci-fi and glossy production, Sansour’s trilogy presents a dystopian vision of a Middle East on the brink of the apocalypse.

A Space Exodus quirkily sets up an adapted stretch of Stanley Kubrick's Space Odyssey in a Middle Eastern political context. The recognisable music scores of the 1968 science fiction film are changed to arabesque chords matching the surreal visuals of Sansour's film.

The film follows the artist herself onto a phantasmagoric journey through the universe echoing Stanley Kubrick's thematic concerns for human evolution, progress and technology. However, in her film, Sansour posits the idea of a first Palestinian into space, and, referencing Armstrong's moon landing, she interprets this theoretical gesture as "a small step for a Palestinian, a giant leap for mankind".'

#palestine #film #documentary #to watch

[canofspooks]

DannyMay Day 19 (No backspace)

Summary: Danny wishes he could get a break. Thankfully, these ghosts don’t seem like his usual fare. Prequel to "Fangs".

Words: 1753

Danny was prepared to have a calm, normal day hanging out with his friends at the park. Which meant he was not enthused when he felt a cold shiver down his spine, indicating the presence of a probably-very-annoying ghost.

Tucker and Sam noticed his complete and utter exhaustion, and thankfully the shared brain cell was working hard enough that the three of them could decide on a plan.

"I don't hear any screaming, so maybe if we're lucky, the ghost isn't quite to the 'terrorizing Amity Park' bit," Danny guessed. "If I go in, catch it off-guard, and shove it in the thermos, maybe we'll get this solved in like five minutes, tops."

Sam shook her head. "If it's anyone like Technus, you're gonna need me and Tucker to get it done quickly. Come on, let's just rip the bandaid off."

She had a point, so Danny decided to drop the subject of going alone and just lead the group over to where his ghostly tingling was leading him. What he found were definitely ghosts, though when he said they hadn't started terrorizing people, he hadn't expected to find the ghosts laying on the grass.

The two ghosts were ones he'd never seen before. One was washed out, like the color was drained from their form. The other looked perfectly human, if not for the glazed-over eyes.

Instead of waiting for the ghosts to reveal their powers in a complicated series of shenanigans that would waste his entire day, he uncapped the Fenton thermos and approached the duo.

"Okay, ghosts, your time… enjoying the sun is over!" he exclaimed. He didn't make a move just yet - he wanted to wait for them to at least try attacking. After all, he was in a hurry, but he wasn't rude.

The ghost with the dead eyes glanced at him. "Uhh… what's up with you, kid? Got a comic con to go to or somethin'?"

Danny's ego instantly deflated.

"I'm not a nerd! I know you're here to scare people or take over the entire city's population of squirrels or something, so just fess up and get in the thermos."

The washed-out ghost glanced at their companion, then at Danny. In a measured tone, the kind he only heard from teachers, they asked, "Do you mind explaining? I'm sure it'll all make sense eventually, but as it is, we're both rather… confused."

"I don't need to explain things to nutty ghosts! I'm on a tight schedule, and I don't have time to listen to your monologue."

Sam prodded his arm. "Uh, Danny, I think - and this sounds stupid to me too, but I think they're not gonna do anything?"

"There's no reason for a ghost to be out of the Ghost Zone unless they're trying to be the next dictator of mankind or whatever," Danny snarked.

The ghost with dead eyes piped up again, "We actually got thrown here. Out a portal. The guy who made it just sort of closed it behind us and… now we're stuck. Got any idea how we could go back?"

"I don't want to go back. It's warm out here." The washed-out ghost rolled over in the grass and pressed their face into the dirt.

Danny stared at the duo, dumbfounded. "... Look, in a few hours, me and my friends will come back here, and I'll show you a portal back. Just… don't turn evil and try to kill everyone until then, okay?"

"Will do." The only ghost not currently face-down in the grass gave him a thumbs-up.

And - Danny couldn't quite believe he was doing this - he left. The thermos went back in his bag, and Danny decided to deal with that particular predicament after he and his friends had relaxed first.

It was difficult to let go and relax when he was constantly expecting to hear the screams of the damned somewhere off in the distance, but he at least tried his best. His "best" was still very distracting, and after only an hour of messing around with his friends, he decided he needed to get it over with or he'd die from anxiety.

He took off towards the place he'd last left the ghosts, leaving his friends to continue having a somewhat relaxing day. He reached the spot, and found the ghosts in more or less the same position - this time they'd swapped whose head was in the dirt.

"Alright. Who did you kill?" he accused, more out of habit than anything. The washed-out ghost squinted at him.

"Were we supposed to kill someone? I'm sorry, I really didn't understand the social etiquette here. Earth has changed a lot in 50 years, apparently."

"No! No, please don't kill anyone. Here, just follow me back to my place. My parents have a portal in the basement."

The ghost studied him carefully. "Go to your basement. That's the best you've got? You're not even trying to be subtle."

"I'm not trying to kidnap you or anything. Actually, I really want you back in the Ghost Zone before I lose my mind."

".. Alright, but if you do try to attack us, young man, I'll tell you we won't go quietly."

The two ghosts stood up, and Danny reached out a hand.

"Uh, this is a bit awkward, but I know most ghosts' names so… I'm Danny, who are you? For future reference, in case you do try to kill everyone."

The ghost with the dead eyes huffed. "Thanks kid, but I'm still not convinced that ghosts don't work on fairy rules. I ain't telling you my name until I know you're not gonna use it against me. You can call me Conrad, though. This is… Poppet, for now."

"Weird choice of fake names, but alright. You don't look like normal ghosts, what's up with that?"

Conrad scoffed. "I didn't know there was a normal way for ghosts to look. But, if you gotta know, we're not from around here. Bit farther east. Maybe it's a regional thing. Why do you know so much about ghosts, kid?"

"I am one, sorta," Danny explained. "But that's not the point. So you don't have a secret second form with like… green or blue skin, and weirdly sharp teeth?"

"That would be cool as fuck, but no."

"- Conrad, language. He's a kid."

"He's a teenager. Danny's probably heard a lot worse from his classmates. Now, you wanted to take us to your basement?"

Danny decided not to comment on the swearing, and turned to go back towards his home. The ghosts trailed behind him, not making much of a fuss beyond bickering with each other under their breaths. He couldn't tell what they were saying, but he was not about to get into whatever marital dispute was going on behind him.

Once they reached his home, he was careful to peer into the window to check if his parents were home. Danny saw nothing but an empty, dark house. Which could mean two things: his parents weren't home, or they were in the lab…

He'd figure it out later.

"So, my parents are sorta ghost hunters, and they'll definitely want to dissect you if they find out you're here. Maybe be a little quieter?" he suggested.

The two bickering ghosts stopped. Thank god.

"Just to be safe, let's go through the ceiling and check out if they're in their lab." Danny turned himself intangible and sank through the floor, confused when the other ghosts didn't do the same. He stopped himself halfway into the ground, waiting for them to catch up.

Conrad rubbed the back of his neck. "Kid… I think this may be another regional difference. Can't we just go through the front door?"

Danny stayed there, baffled at the idea of a ghost that couldn't go through walls. "What- What exactly can you two do?" The question of "Are you sure you're not zombies?" also came to mind, but he'd yet to see proof of the existence of zombies and refused to open that can of worms just yet.

"What do you mean 'what can we do'? We're ghosts, not superheroes," Poppet said with a huff.

"I think I made lights flicker on accident once, and Poppet possesses pencils sometimes, if that's what you're asking."

Danny couldn't help himself. "Where did you say you were from?" He needed to know where the hell these harmless, human-like ghosts came from. And why he was stuck with rejected X-Men.

"Ohio, why?"

Fucking Ohio ghosts. Yeah, alright. They probably died doing meth in a cornfield, hence the lack of nutty ghost powers. He wasn't going to say any of that aloud, but it was an explanation nonetheless.

Poppet narrowed their eyes. "I neglected to mention that mind-reading is one of my 'abilities'. I hope that helps clear things up."

Oops.

"Anyway, let's go to the basement!" He opened the door and marched over to the basement door. His cheeks were burning with embarrassment as he descended the stairs. Thankfully, the lights were off. Danny went over to the portal and began to power it on, hoping his cringing wasn't visible in the dull green light.

"Thanks for helping us, kid. Really, I wish there was some way we could pay you back. Is ghost money a thing here? I could probably shank a ghoul and come back here with a few bucks, if you want."

Danny's eyes widened. "No, I'm all good. Uh… if you meet any other ghosts, just tell them not to come to Amity Park to take over the world or whatever. That's all I need."

"Damn, if you're sure…" Conrad reached into his pockets and pulled out a wad of cash and some change. "Since you're alive-ish, you can probably put this to use better than we can. I insist."

Danny took the money, which must've been at least $100 in total.

"Oh- thanks? Um, the portal's open, so if you want to go now…"

"Hopefully we don't see ya later. It was nice meeting ya." Conrad took the other ghost's hand and disappeared through the portal. In the portal's pulsating light, Danny held up one of the coins, and realized it had a dark red crusted onto it.

Ah. So the shanking thing wasn't a joke. Danny shoved the dubiously-acquired cash in his pockets and decided not to reflect on the last couple of hours. Even if the ghosts were criminals by human standards, he was just glad they hadn't turned anyone into pumpkins or some weird bullshit like that.

#dannymay2023 #spooks reign of terror

[priwenshallprevail]

Continued from : Poor etiquette @astridnorddottir

McCullum raised no sorrow for her on how they brought her in. Nor for rough handling her on the way down. He never did for these creatures. If anything, curiosity spawned at him over her like a bottomless pit couriered from her unique traits, what little he caught wind of that is. Which initiated her capture. Novelty abnormalities to her identification -- and he was willing to beat some answers out of her if need be, just to know more.

Know thy enemy.

" Not like 'av'eard t'at one before, lass " he belittled her unabashedly with stoical impasse accountable of his features. Save for eyes that graveled over her studiously with contempt. Almost taking pride rather than pity in her crumbled state. The Huntsman unfolded his arms as he lurched upright from his support to gloat toward her in stride.

Calloused hands were on her before she could quail from him. Snagging her chin uncouthly and yielding her undivided attention to him; a slightly under dressed Hunter in laxed garments. His coat, neckerchief and vest absent. A weathered cream based undershirt clothed him, the top three buttons, with one completely missing -frayed thread in it's place. Undone onto exposing a low neckline from flared collar. Leather tacked suspenders off their mark held droop past thighs in an unengaged bough. With only the lapels keeping them attached to linen trousers.

" Be t'ankful yer not havin' ta endure what most ot'ers have in yer current predicament, beast. Feelin' quite generous today, don't make me second guess t'at decision. " So easily could the coin flip. She could take his pleasantries or conjure his cruelty.

It was clear he reveled in becoming this imposing force on similar creatures like her, that to him, were beasts who had thought so little of mankind. Bending these devils to his will through barbaric methods which mimicked their own allegory. Boldly invading their space at close proximities. Mocking their very misfortunes. He refused to be considered lifestock ; little lambs who could not defend themselves.

Leeches and all sorts of monsters like them will soon come to realize that the Guard of Priwen were none of those to be easily denominated. That they had instead became these wolves in sheep's clothing knocking at their door. Turning tides and sowing fields amid fanatics. Wolves who enjoyed playing with their prey mercilessly. Delving vengeance with the most pain fervently attached. If they hadn't known the name before their captivity, they will soon have it seared into memory to fear not long after.

" Now speak ! W'ere is it t'at ye hail ? Are t'ere ot'ers like ye ? " His grip tightened into corking her chin strict between digits with a jerk to further demand her gaze not to falter.

#I Main｣ ✞ Cᴀɴ·ᴛ Hɪᴅᴇ Fʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ Gᴜᴀʀᴅ #Sub-Verse : tbd #astridnorddottir #tw: abuse #tw: violence #tw: torture

[shammah8]

🕊️🌺Wendy🌺🕊️:

The Fall of Man God's Word had gone forth: Man would have dominion over the works of God's hands.

Satan challenged it. If he could stop God's Word from coming to pass, he could defeat God.

His tactics were simple. He tempted the will of man. Man yielded and turned his will crosswise to the will of God.

Some of—if not the—saddest words in the Bible are:

GENESIS 3:8-10 34 Circle of Glory 8 And they heard the voice of the LORD God walking in the garden in the cool of the day: and Adam and his wife hid themselves from the presence of the LORD God amongst the trees of the garden.

9 And the LORD God called unto Adam, and said unto him, Where art thou?

10 And he said, I heard thy voice in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked; and I hid myself.

Early one Sunday morning I was meditating on these things in preparation for the class. I'd put on a roast for dinner. And I was fixing my hair in front of the wide mirror in our only bathroom before waking the family.

From behind me, high and to the right, I heard a Voice. It probably was not audible—but to me it seemed almost audible. When the question came, I knew it was the Lord.

Do you know Romans 3:23?

My first thought was, Thank God, it's one I know. I grew up in Baptist churches. Baptists lead people to the Lord down the Roman Road. Romans 3:23 is the first step.

So I whirled toward the Voice and quoted rather glibly at first, "For all have sinned, and come short of...Ah!...." I gasped as I saw it! The last four words fell feebly from my lips trailing almost to a whisper, "...the glory of God...."

The Voice spoke the revelation I'd glimpsed.

That's what happened in the fall. I crowned man with glory. Man sinned and fell short of the glory.

I felt I would faint with the revelation of the fall from such glorious heights to such heinous depths.

Then the Voice literally revived me with words based on Hebrews 2:10:

But the Captain of your salvation is bringing many sons to Glory.

35 The Blood and the Glory I saw it for the first time! The circle of glory!

Man was crowned with glory. He fell from the glory. Through Jesus Christ he can return to the glory.

Then in a flash of revelation across my spirit I saw the predicament of the fall.

To the right, high and lifted up, was the place of the throne of God.

To the left, low and very low, stood Satan with man cringing at his side.

Between the two places there was a great gulf fixed.

I heard these words.

You always look at the fall from man's viewpoint. I want you to look at it from My point of view.

Within my spirit an automatic response arose, "I will be happy to, if You are pleased to show it to me."

The reaction of a natural man to a fallen son is to grab him and clasp him to his bosom. Had I clasped Adam to My bosom, I would have consumed him. My glory would have burned him up. And in him mankind.

Satan would have stopped My words from coming to pass. For I had spoken that man would have dominion over the works of My hands.

Then I saw my first son, Terry. He stood tall, broad shouldered and thin at the waist with a large silver buckle fastening the leather belt around his blue jeans. I felt an urge to throw my arms around his middle in a tight squeeze.

What if you could not hug your son? For if you hugged him you would consume him.

I'm a hugging mother. So the Holy Spirit taught me with a hugging-mother parable. Back then when I hugged Terry he would sometimes say, "Aw, Mom." But he liked it and so did I. I couldn't imagine not being able to hug him. In fact I quickly considered how I probably would forget and 36 Circle of Glory he would be destroyed. I somehow felt a little of God's position at the fall of man.

And in a new way I understood how sin cannot stand in the Presence of God. It is written, "For our God is a consuming fire" (Hebrews 12:29).

What does He consume? Sin.

I understood the precautions of the Old Testament.

God's glory stood behind a thick curtain in the Holy of Holies. The High Priest alone could enter there once a year on The Day of Atonement.

And then he took great precautions.

It wasn't that God did not want mankind in His Presence. It was that man could not endure the glory of God.

I thought of when David brought up the Ark of the Presence on a cart rather than in the way God had instructed them to carry it for their own safety. When the oxen stumbled, Uzzah reached out to steady the ark, and died. It wasn't that God was just waiting to get him. God's glory broke forth to judge sin when the two came into contact. (2 Samuel 6; 1 Chronicles 13.) Again I saw the scene with Satan clasping the cowering man and laughing up at God across the gulf. He thought he'd won. He thought he'd succeeded in separating God and his man forever. Satan knew that Adam, who once delighted in the Presence of God, would now be consumed by it.

His whining words ran together as he sneered over and over at God, "What-are-ya-gonna-do-now? What-are-ya-gonna-do-now? What-are-ya-gonna-do-now?"

I was made to know that God did not answer him.

But I also knew that God had a plan. A. plan which began in heaven before the foundation of the world. God did not need to do anything now.

He already had done something.☕️Billye Brim

[noodle-slurp]

Part 6

-drags this to you as a broken and bleeding corpse. Get ya part 6....part 6 ready to go!

Tw: mentions of violence? Uh...yea.

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They don’t speak on the way to the vehicle. It’s not that either have nothing to say, it’s just neither are sure how to breech the topic of what it is they want to ask.

It’s the giant that breaks the silence first, his voice a low rumble through their bones despite how level he keeps it. “So what brought you back?” he asks as he scratches his back on a nearby tree.

Man he really wanted to know, huh…

They exhale a sigh as they rummage through their cracked console and stuff their bag with the jerky inside. They don’t answer right away, mind flashing back to those days - the the darkness, the weight of careless hands around them, of teeth…of blood.

When they do answer, they hate how their voice trembles. “There was just nowhere left for me to go.”

He makes a displeased hum somewhere behind them. He isn’t a fan of their vagueness. “So ending up back in my stomach…seemed better?”

They freeze, heart hammering at those words. They slouch sideways in the seat faced away from him, eyes tracing idly over the torn passenger seat, the backpack, the ruined door frame.   “Don’t” is all they can say, the words more a plea than a demand.

He tilts his head, blinking at the almost mumbled words. “Don’t what? Eat you?” he scoffs, rolling his eyes, but he can hear their heart, he can sense the tension they hold, the fear. Delicious…But , no.

He exhales and crosses his arms, looking away from them. “Don’t worry about it for now. You’re not worth eating in your current state anyway.” he isn’t sure why he had to word it that way.

That does not comfort them. They feel a bit sick, actually.  They pull one of the strips of venison from their bag and gnaw on it slowly, savoring the taste and allowing the motion to soothe them just a tad.

“What happened to your car?”

They hesitate to answer, the sound of metal bending and twisting loud in their mind. They consider lying and decide it wasn’t worth the upkeep. “A giant.”

He had figured from the smell, but it was still weird to hear. “You’re pretty lucky aint ya. Meeting two giants and still kickin around.: he snorts.

“Five - and a werewolf″ they correct.

He pauses, baffled. “Five? Wait a werewolf?”

They take a chunk from the jerky, giving themselves time to think, to wonder if they wanted to say anymore. Those nights weighed heavy on them, like water drenched clothes dragging them down and clawing them under.

“The first night after I left, I woke to my door being torn off - like someone opening a can of sardines. There was only the one. Some people showed up, called themselves monster hunters - they killed her and took me back to their…base? I guess?" A pause, they neglect to tell him she'd ate them - or about how they almost died. “Told me the monsters had teamed up and overwhelmed the cities to try and destroy humanity.”

It’s his turn to be breathless now. “No shit?” he breathes out, “So the stories were true, then…”

“What stories?” they ask, twisting around to face him.

He’s speechless a moment, unsure how to word it.

“There are stories we giants tell, of a time when monsters will rule the earth again. They tell of our new lives among the ashes of mankind.”

Ah…Context. Well that certainly didn’t make their current predicament any better. Part of them had hoped maybe they were just being cynical - that there really was somewhere else to go, that maybe, just over some other hill laid a less fatal future. Guess they could stop trying to fool themselves now.

They sag in their seat and contemplate their jerky strip. Guess this was them now, too, huh…Some tasty treat for this giant to eat whenever he got the munchies - and if not him, one of the many other things prowling the darkness now.

They force themselves to continue gnawing on the stick of meat. “Yea…They mentioned something like that…” they finally mutter. They sigh.

"Anyway….” they hesitate to continue.

“Go on” he prods.

They make a displeased noise. “The base was this…sorta warehouse turned to a base. Lot more hunters - and a section for 'civilians'." They recall the darker halves of the warehouse, the smell of metal and concrete, of sweat and people falling away to blood and terror. "I uh, have a habit of being where I shouldn't be."

He snort-chuckles in agreement.

"Deeper in the place, there were cages and blood - and inside one of the cages was a wolf. Not like - an actual wolf - a big one, with long arms - and thumbs. Ya know…a werewolf."

"Anyway…stayed in that place for…a week? Time's hard to keep track of…"

"- Then the monsters came….a lot of them - I think- I didn't stick around to see what all those noises were - it was…a lot….I used the opportunity to free the werewolf and bailed - found my truck and off we went…" they remember the screaming, the sounds of bones breaking, of gun fire and angry shouts.

"I picked up a few people on the way…and it was just me, the wolf, and a few refugees with nowhere to go."

They chuckle darkly, remembering trying so hard to have hope, to keep the others on the brightside. "I thought, maybe, we had a chance, we did alright for a few days…Then They found us - a group of giants with nothing better to do I guess. I-"

This part gets tricky. "So much happened so fast. It's hard to remember…It was the werewolf who saved me…" they lie. "I don't know what happened to the others…He told me to run - and I did."

They sigh sadly "And now, here I am." They gesture, unease filling them. "Back where I started and probably just going right back into somethings guts…"

He had listened in silence, head tilted, soaking in the tale, and now, as they finished, he realized they were perhaps hoping for some sort of comfort. They didn't say it, but he could feel it. He exhales lazily. "That's…a lot." He looks away, thinking. "Well, you don't have to worry about anything else eating you."

They look up at him, green eyes meeting green, brows furrowed in a mix of confusion and hope. Oh how they dared hope, even now…

"Because you're my prey." He says with a grin, kneeling down to run the back of his finger over their cheek. "And I don't like sharing."

This does not comfort them at all.

#Vore writing #Vore story #Soft vore #G/t #This took forever and felt so much longer than it actually is....im so sorry