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namedaftercommunists · 6 months ago

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'Meant to be' Daisuke (Mouthwashing) X Reader -OneShot

[Story takes place before Daisuke boards the Tulpa] [Fluff] [Romantic] [Gender Neutral Reader] It’s chilly out, and the menthol cigarettes you’re puffing on only add to it.

Ice fills and drains out your lungs with every inhale and exhale you make, and the smoke you make reeks of tobacco –a scent you hate, but admittedly, find comfort in. It hits your face when the wind picks up.

Now your clothes smell of tobacco.

“Stop that.” A familiar voice half-heartedly scolds before a hand from behind takes the cancer stick away from your mouth before extinguishing it with the heel of his worn Converse. The once-white soles are now yellowish with time and weather exposure.

“I hate when you do that.” You groan out -but your tone lacks venom. “-and I hate when -you- do that.” Daisuke says with a sigh before sitting next to you on the concrete rooftop.

He puts his hands out to you wordlessly, and you take out the small spray of antiseptic alcohol on your pocket to spray some on his hands. He never liked the smell of cigarettes, both of you know his parents would flip if he ever came home smelling like tobacco.

“I can’t help it.” You lazily defend yourself as you pocket the spray back. “It helps me keep my mind off things.” You add, despite Daisuke having heard this excuse time and time again since you started smoking years ago.

He rolls his eyes at this but doesn’t continue his nagging after. He knows you won't ever quit, not even with his constant lecture and reprimands. The best he can do is snuff out the cigarettes you light when you two are together.

“Your dad called.” Daisuke starts, and you already know that your father is calling for your whereabouts. You can only sigh and slump your shoulders at this.

“-and what did you say?” You ask, still looking at the city ‘view’. It’s a dilapidated thing, city walls covered in aging -sunbleached posters and tarpaulins that just get pasted and installed over one another since it was cheaper than taking the previous ones down.

It’s a view both Daisuke and you have watched grow and age while growing up.

“The usual. 'I don’t know’” He says with a shrug. “-and like always, he doesn’t believe me.” He continues.

“I don’t know why he bothers asking me. I give the same answer, you know?” Daisuke says with a chuckle, and you can only return it -the two of you never went a day without laughing together.

“You cave in sometimes.” You say, and he can only sheepishly nod at this. “I do- but that’s only, like, when I don’t ‘actually’ know where you are,” He says before awkwardly tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear to see you better. "Can you blame me for getting worried?" He rhetorically asks, and you're unable to talk back to that. Your nightly escapades are only a cause for concern when Daisuke doesn't know where you are.

“So what’s the matter?” He asks with a tilt of his head, referring to why you are up on the rooftops again. You respond with a shrug, which he sighs at.

“C’mon, what’s wrong?” He asks, leaning on your side and playfully nudging his shoulder on yours to get you to budge. You can only chuckle at his intrinsic nature to act childishly.

“Nothings wrong.” You answer, nudging his shoulder back. “I’m just –thinking about things.” You answer truthfully.

“Things like?” He asks, wanting you to expand on that. “I don’t know -just things in general.” You respond with an unsure shrug.

There’s a short silence between you two, with only the city ambiance filling the space before Daisuke inevitably breaks it.

“Are you moping because I’ll be going on that internship in a few days?” He asks somewhat jokingly with a boyish -teasing grin.

You can only scoff and roll your eyes at this. “Not everything is about you, loser.” You say with your own grin -your mood lightening up a bit.

“So you’re -not- sad about me leaving you for a year?” He asks with a raised brow, nudging your side with his elbow a bit. “I mean --I'm bummed out.” You downplay, making him dramatically pout.

“That’s it? Just bummed out?” He repeats with an unserious frown. “I was expecting, you know, tears in your eyes -or something.”

You let out another scoff at this. “I don't see -you- crying. Why should I when you aren't either.” You point out with a dramatic puff of your chest -making Daisuke laugh.

“You don't know that. Maybe I already cried.” He argues, still chuckling at your matched dramatism.

“Did you?” You ask with a curious brow -a bit taken aback.

“No.” He responds with a Cheshire laugh, and you roll your eyes at this again.

“Thought so.” You jokingly grumble before looking away from him -feigning hurt. He only laughs at this some more.

He takes a few moments to calm down, his laughter fading as his demeanor softens and he leans on your side some more.

“But I am sad,” Daisuke admits, his voice just barely above the sound of the city ambiance below you two.

“…”

You don’t know how to respond to this -looking back at him as he rests his head on your shoulder, leaning down a bit since he's just grown a few inches taller than you over the years.

“Aren't you?” He asks, looking up at you, his hair tickling at the skin of your neck. His voice is soft, and it's one of the few times you've heard him be -this- vulnerable with you.

“I am.” You answer truthfully, your shoulders slumping a bit.

You were sad -from the moment he told you about the internship even. It's a whole year apart without the person you've been joined at the hip with for more than a decade now.

It's terrifying and outright depressing just imagining going a day without seeing, talking, joking, and laughing with him.

-to not share these moments with him.

Your hand snakes its way to his, thumbing the bone of his knuckles, and your skin feels the warmth of his.

Daisuke was always warmer than the average person. It's a welcome contrast to how cold the city air was.

He holds your hand back, squeezing it for a moment.

“I'll think about you, like, all the time.” He says, and you can only snort at this a bit.

“You're corny.” You comment, and he can only childishly pout at this. “I'll think about you too.” You continue, your own voice growing softer as you look into his familiar, warm brown eyes.

“Thanks.” He says with a boyish grin, also looking into your eyes.

There's another comfortable silence between you two before he breaks it again.

“You wanna go buy ramen when I get back?” Daisuke asks, and you snort at this once more, tears pricking at your eyes from laughter as he continues to look at you with endearment.

“You didn't even go to space yet -and you're already making plans for when you get back?” You teasingly ask, and he can only laugh at this.

“Well I'm coming back, aren't I? Like, where would I go if not back here?” He argues back with a grin.

“You've got a point.” You say with a nod -following his logic.

“You gotta pay though -it's the least you could do after leaving me here.” You say, with feigned bitterness for his internship. You don't actually envy him, the thought of being in space already makes you nauseous.

“Fair -fair.” He says with a dramatic nod of understanding -the two of you chuckling right after.

You two calm down a few moments later, still smiling at one another, grinning ear to ear. Daisuke's cheeks were red, and your ears were burning the same color.

“I can't wait for you to get back.” You softly say, squeezing his hand. He mimics the action back.

“I can't wait either.” He says it back with the same softness.

It's funny. The city was far from quiet, and yet it felt as if there wasn't anything in the air other than the sound of both of your breaths. Your faces are just inches off of each other.

You always did find his moles pretty. . . . His cheek feels soft on your lips before you inevitably pull away.

There isn't any shock in Daisuke's expression, nor disgust or confusion. Your kiss on his cheek, just on his left mole, felt natural.

Like you were almost meant to place a kiss on it, to kiss his cheek, to kiss him.

Despite it feeling natural, he couldn’t help the rushing of blood to his cheeks, his face flushed.

A few moments pass before it’s his turn to close the gap, the heat of his breath hitting your cheek before his lips then press themselves against yours.

Like Daisuke, you can’t help the blood rushing to your head, the tips of your ears burning hot.

They’re soft. His lips are soft. As expected from someone who carries around a stick of chapstick in his pocket.

It's a simple peck to the lips, nothing more.

It…doesn’t feel like anything- at least not at first.

You’ve kissed others before, same for Daisuke, and like all others -there was no spark or fireworks in your gut afterward.

No. Instead of the usual burning or butterflies in the stomach that films and books always seem to insist upon -this kiss with Daisuke feels…normal.

Like your lips were always meant to be pressed together like this.

He pulls away after, and the two of you just sit in silence at this, looking into each other’s eyes. You two were neither pulling away nor moving closer.

His lashes are long and pretty, it’s an aspect of his that you’ve noticed early on in your youth.

This feels right -just being next to each other like this. With you eyeing every feature, crevice, and fold in his appearance.

Simply drinking the sight in -as if his face wasn’t something you saw daily for as long as you can remember.

Judging from how he’s looking at you, he may be doing the same.

You’ve both grown and changed over the years, yet, you still look like each other.

Daisuke, even with his taller height, the bit of muscle he’s put on, and the longer hair -still looked like the young Daisuke who ran around the classroom with playdough underneath his fingernails, and who boastfully sported the failed eyebrow slit he gave himself.

“I really like your nose. Did you know that?” He says.

The timing is awkward, and you can hear the slight shakiness in his voice despite his soft tone -like he was nervous. Despite this though, his sincerity comes across -it always does.

Your lips are on his again.

It doesn’t go further than that, but when either of you pant and pull away, the other is quick to join their lips again once they’ve caught their breath.

It’s warm despite the chilly night wind that pricks at both Daisuke's and your skin.

You squeeze his hand.

You can’t wait to spend more moments like these after he gets back.

#fanfiction #daisuke mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing x reader #daisuke x reader #oneshot #x reader #mouthwashing x reader #fluff #mouthwashing #mouthwashing game

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gimyeongbestboy · 1 year ago

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Damn Samuel simps are thirsty huh (same but I wanna dom him so slightly different from the ones that want him to step on them) BUT I am here to ask for hcs or something where Johan falls for a girl that makes him hot meals. He needs the nutrients. Straight up one of the dudes that will fall for you if you feed him. One of the prime examples of "best way to a man's heart is his stomach".

Seaweed Soup and Curry

Pairing: Johan Seong x Reader

an: omg anon, your request has been in my ask box for so long! I kept you waiting for a long time lmao. I hope you enjoy this one! Also, I have not proof-read this

During a specific time of night, you always notice guy with brown hair looking through the small make shift window of the tarpaulin tent that houses your family's snack bar. Dressed in all black, his tall figure, blends in with the dim lighting outside the snack bar. You don't know how long you've been staring at him, but it seems like he noticed you staring at him before you can realize what you're doing. You tried calling out to him, but he walked away before you even got the chance to. For the following nights to come, this is how your meeting with him would take place.

Friday night comes, and you made sure to hide behind the tarpaulin snack bar waiting for the time when he usually comes around-- 10pm. You waited for a couple of minutes to pass before coming around, and sure enough, there he is standing in-front of the snack bar, a white dog sitting next to him. The dog noticed you, and gave a small bark towards your direction causing him to look towards you.

"Hey, I noticed you're always here during this time looking through. Aren't you going to go in? You're always lurking out here like weirdo." You raised your brow as you study his face in the dim lighting. You aren't going to lie, this guy looks quite attractive. The yellow lights of the street lights bounces off his brown hair making seem like he has a halo on his head. An angel on earth perhaps?

"How long have you been there?" His question snapped you out of the trance you were about to enter when admiring his face.

"Not long, I was hoping to catch you actually."

"And I'm the weirdo?"

"Hey! Any one in their right mind would wonder why some guy keeps staring, but never buy anything! Much less enter!"

"It's called window shopping, dumbass." His rebuttal got you confused. Who even window shops food? But before you can get the words out of your mouth, he had already walked away with his dog on his tail. You're not sure why, but you hoped that he would come again tomorrow night.

When the next night came, you waited for him outside in-front of the snack bar unlike last time, and sure enough, he came again at the same time. He paused in his tracks when he noticed you standing outside the snack bar with your hands inside your apron pocket.

Upon noticing his arrival you told him, "Follow me inside." You grabbed his wrist and pulled him into the snack bar. There were three tables inside and a few folding chairs around the tables. You pulled him directly towards an empty table made him sit. "We have rice and curry, fried chicken, tteokbokki and seaweed soup. What do you want to eat?"

"I'm not hungry." He said pointedly, looking you straight in the eyes with his dark pretty eyes. As he said this, his stomach growled loud enough to catch the attention of his dog.

"Just tell me what you want. My grandma figures that you're probably 'window shopping' outside because you're hungry." You said as you pointed towards your grandma sitting behind the counter. "Just tell me what you want before I change my mind."

"I don't want your charity." He said as he glimpsed at the food.

"Look here, uhhh..."

"Johan" Johan was unsure why he told you his name, but when he gave it out anyways. It was quite unusual for him. Often times, he would just stay quite and leave the other person hanging.

"Look here, Johan. Do I look like I got room to be charitable. I'm not doing this to be charitable. My grandma would probably kill me if I let you starve any further."

Johan smirked and said, "I wouldn't mind seeing that."

"Forget it, I'll just choose for you." You walked behind the counter where the small make shift kitchen is. Using the ingredients the prepped ingredients, you made a quick and easy curry and served it to him on top of hot white rice. "Here, don't worry about paying for it, and if you feel like you should pay, you can pay me by helping my grandma grocery shop."

"Thanks, but shouldn't you be helping your grandma though?" Johan asked as politely as he could.

"Well yeah, but I'm in school during the day, so I can't help grandma."

Johan nods as he silently ate the food that was served to him. Days turned into weeks and weeks turned into months. Soon enough it's been a year ever since Johan started helping out your grandma. Sometimes, he'd even help out setting up the stall or cleaning up at the end of the night. Ever since then you and Johan have gotten closer. You'd have banters all the time so much so, that some customers have said that the two of you banter like an old married couple. You would simply brush off the comment and say, "as if I'd marry him." The redness of your entire face kind of give away how flustered you are because of the comment.

Today is the weekend, and as you were setting up there was a guy wearing a tracksuit that came up to you handing you a package meant for Johan. A few hours later, Johan came with your grandma with the prepped ingredients for tonight's menu.

"Hey Johan, this came for you earlier. Some guy named Zack dropped it off earlier for you." You informed Johan as you handed him a neatly wrapped gift. "He said, 'Happy Birthday and come home.'"

Johan grabbed the gift from you and thanked you. Before he can go on about his day you asked, "How come you never said today is your birthday?"

"Why? Were you planning on getting me a gift?" He asked in a teasing voice.

"No, you ass." You rolled your eyes and get to cooking. Not long after, you came back to him with a small steaming hot pot filled with seaweed soup. Johan looked up at you in surprise as you set the soup down on the table in-front of him.

"It's seaweed soup. You probably haven't had some in a while ever since you left home, so I thought I'd make you some. Happy Birthday Johan." Johan felt a comforting warmth envelope him as he watches the small and gentle smile on your face. The smile may have been small, but it's the kind of smile that reaches your eyes-- making them shine despite the terrible lighting in the snack bar. Out of all the food you've made for him, curry is his favourite as well as the seaweed soup you've made for him on his birthday.

#lookism #lookism x reader #johan seong #johan seong x reader

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tavolgisvist · 5 months ago

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On summer days, for some 'exercise,' Dad, Paul and I would cycle fron Speke past Joseph Williams and across the peaceful countryside to Auntie Jin's 147 Dinahs Lane, Huyton home. One such afternoon, after receiving our customary thirst-quenching refreshments, Paul and I were sniffing round the back yard of Jin's large semi-detached house and discovered a big can of petrol. Our fresh thirst for knowledge posed the interesting scientific question: Would it or wouldn't it burn up a wall? 'Of course it will.' 'Bet you it won't.' 'How much?' 'Bag of ollies.' 'You're on.' One tin of Uncle Harry's best petrol was unscrewed and the stupid one that made the bet laid a trail along the back yard up the wall of the garage and onto the tarpaulin roof. Once on the roof I made sure that I'd collect my winnings by staying there to verify the results of the experiment. 'OK, let's prove it,' said the sceptical scientist below, setting fire to the gasoline. 'Whoosh!' went the trail. 'See!' I shouted, happy for scientific verification (and a bag of marbles), 'What a gas!' but not too happy with the now fiercely burning garage roof which blocked my exit to the ground. Just then, who should be pushing his blue serge bike along Dinahs Lane but the Local Constabulary. Calling on my relative's door he enquired, 'Excuse me, madam, but is that your son setting fire to himself on your garage?' Our scientific enquiry was soon settled by Newton's Law of relatively speaking…a hand falling onto a bottom…repeatedly!

(Mike McCartney, 1981, Thank U Very Much. Mike McCartney's Family Album)

Part (I), (II), (III), (IV), (V), (VI)

My brother and I were firebugs when we were kids, and my dad worried that we would burn the house down, so he made us light a whole box of matches till we got totally fed up of it.

(Paul McCartney about Two of Us, The Lyrics, 2021)

#mike mccartney #family album #paul mccartney #I'm reading #interview: paul #the lyrics

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hongjoongscafe · 1 year ago

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Bloody Love...

Chapter: VII-Betrayal-

♠︎Pairing: yandere!king.jungkookxoc(coronis)

♠︎Genre: angst, smut, yandere, gore, dark romance, horror, creepy (dark fantasy).

♠︎Summary: "you happen to be in a world where wrong is right and right is wrong."

♠︎Word count: 3.6k+

♠︎Warning: murder, creepy, blow job, suffocation.

♠︎Note: lemme know if you wanna be added to the permanent or specific taglist!

♠︎Masterpost

♠︎Serieslist.

Questions. They were running in Coronis's head. Was it her fate? Or was it the people who made her life harder every day? The spiralling cycle of life was getting into her head. She felt a cyclone inside her nerves. The thunder in her chest.

They say that after a bad thing, something good happens. However, in her life, there was no word called good ever written even with mistakes, just never. Something in her life was twisted more than what she had realized. She had underestimated everything to the point where thinking for even a breath was heavier than a mountain.

Monsoon arrived. The days looked gloomier and nights looked creepier. Every gust of wind sent tremors down her spine. It felt like those winds were the whisperers who whispered tragedy winding its way to her footsteps.

The roads were muddy and reeked of old blood. The trees were hunched over, looking like ghouls that fed on dead bodies. Everything was covered with a stiff horror of the unspoken stories that were buried deep down in this realm of dead and gone.

All of this horror was doubled when the men who came to see Coronis for tying the knot started to get slaughtered day by day. They were not being hung on the pole but rather left rotting in the meadows and not as intense as the punishments were.

Nori has been acting weirdly. Especially after she visited her home. It was a couple of days later when she caught Edwin at her shack.

Coronis was walking back to her shack as the rain was pouring. It was getting stronger as she took each step. Her black straight gown was wet and the skirt was covered in mud halfway. Her pretty belly shoes were squeaking and were unrecognizable. Her kohl was running down her cheeks and her hair was sticking to her face. She tried her best to not let the stuff in her hands get dirty as she struggled to walk through the puddles.

As she reached back to her shack, she saw Nori standing outside, about to leave with a tarpaulin sheet above her head to at least keep her head covered from the unforgiving showers.

As Nori's eyes fell on Coronis, her expression changed and looked panicked. Coronis wanted to stop her and talk to her, however, the girl quickly bid goodbyes to her mother and stumbled away as quickly as she could.

Later that day when Coronis was sitting by the fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate in her hands with her mother who was knitting a sweater for Coronis, the girl asked her mother, “What was Nori doing here?”

Martha looked up with a tiny smile. “She said she was in the market and stopped by. We drank tea and talked a bit and then she left. I asked her to wait longer and meet you but she said she had things to take care of and then left.”

She nodded slowly and took a sip out of her warm drink. “What did you talk about?”

Martha stopped knitting, placed the material in the basket and faced Coronis. She took a second to formulate her words. “Honestly, Coro, she was not alright in my opinion. I have never seen her like the way she was acting today. She was… jittery and uncomfortable if I'm not wrong. But she was polite as ever. Greeted me with warmth and held a decent conversation. Though she kept looking at the door as if waiting for someone,” She said. “And we talked about things and she asked about you!”

Coronis's mind was boggling. “What did she say?”

“She asked about the people in our shack the other day,” she informed.

“And then what did you say?” she pressed further.

“I told her about us wanting to marry you somewhere better. She asked about Edwin and the other boys as well. She seemed to be quite interested in the chat. She wanted to know every single detail and joked about how she could keep one for herself as well. But I don't know, Coronis… I don't feel like she was fine. I think someday, you should go meet her. I don't see her with you as often either. Maybe she just needs a friend to talk to. And I am nowhere near that friend,” Martha shook her head as she thought other things to herself but did not voice them. “Anyway, Edwin will visit tomorrow. So, look prettier.”

She had seen Nori around. All the time she looked guilty of something. She would look but never make a move to talk to Coronis and when Coronis would try, she would run away as soon as possible. The situation between them was too intense.

Coronis felt guilty for doing whatever she did. Instead of running away, she could have talked and told Nori what her life had become, or better, shouldn't have tried to get into it. Her selfish motives were the reason why the poor girl was now looking like a long aching soul, running away from what she once found solace in.

She couldn't imagine what Nori was feeling. One day they both were lying in bed, kissing and hugging, and the other day, there was nothing left. The person Nori loved so dearly was not supposed to prepare for marriage and it wasn't even theirs.

It was Coronis and a third person.

How could Coronis even expect her to talk to her when she crushed the blooming flower of love under her feet?

Her teary eyes were looking for answers, silently. Waiting for Coronis to tell her story. But her mind was not ready. Nori knew they were not possible even if Coronis was not getting married because the two girls could never make it together.

Maybe another story was going to be left untold.

As Coronis was stepping closer to her shack, everything started to get quieter and quieter. The day was still young and paths were busy. No way it could be that silent the only thing she could hear was silence and the rain hitting the ground.

The closer she got, she saw people surrounding her shack. The crease between her eyebrows grew deeper as fast as her heart started to beat. She carefully squeezed her way in to see why people were standing there so quietly. Did something happen to her family? No, she pleaded silently as tears brimmed her eyes.

Her feet were met with dirty muddy water mixed with blood. She looked up and saw Draco, Onyx, and Martha standing there now looking at Coronis. A sigh of relief left her trembling lips. But it didn't stay for longer.

Because the moment her eyes fell down, in front of her shack, her heart dropped in her stomach. She couldn't see the face but the Golden curly hair was enough for her to know everything that was needed to know.

The tears in her eyes were pooling to the brim but not a single tear dared to roll down her cheeks. They were stuck there, just like Coronis, in shock. Her pupils shivered as the tremor of horror passed through her body.

The regret was seeping into her soul making her her own villain. Her heart refused to believe otherwise. The selfish mistake was now weighing her down as she fell to her knees. Her breath got stuck in her chest as she saw the lifeless body lying down there with deep slashes out in the open for everyone to see it like a drama.

The blood was still dripping out into the muddy water as the rain mercilessly poured onto his abused body. His skin from where the clothes were torn apart was pale and blue, drained of any blood in his veins.

Coronis crawled towards him. Holding his shoulders, she turned him around and that's when a piercing scream was heard in the crowd. Coronis had no conscience for her actions. She had no idea that the loud, heart-wrenching screams were leaving her mouth.

Her head was empty of any sane thought. The only thing that mattered at the moment was for Edwin to open his pretty gazy eyes and look into her dark orbs and tell her in his own words that it is going to be alright and that he is going to be alright. They will be alright. She wanted him to tell her that all the little dreams they dreamt would come true under the same roof where they were going to begin their new life.

“Why?!” she screamed again. “Why? What did he do?!” she kept repeating. “Please give me back my Edwin! I'll do anything for him. Please give him his life back!” she begged. She cried and cried.

She didn't care about the mud or the rain soaking her. The only thing she kept hearing was her inner voice asking her how much she could be thoughtless and selfish.

How many more dying souls did she need to see before knowing that her single action could lead to some genuine man’s life? Her previous proposals were murdered but they were not morally sane men at all. They deserved worse than what they got.

However, Edwin was a man of words and class. He was a gentleman every woman desired in their life. The way he talked was out of this world. His poetic essence was never enough and the bubble of safe emotion was his walking definition. No one was like him.

Edwin was the shade of the tree on the hottest summer afternoon. His voice was a mellow music in the midst of spring. His eyes were a warm blanket on the coldest winter night. His smile was the twinge of spice in the autumn evening. He was perfect as is. His way of living life was simple and eventful. He craved to make a difference in the world with his kindness. He found the luxuries in the smallest things and cherished them till he could remember them.

He was once a man full of life and now a lifeless Angel. Some evil spirit took his golden wings away and left him dead in the footsteps of his future.

Nobody said a thing. They stayed and listened. Nobody tried to console the hurting being on the ground holding her soon-to-be husband tightly as she held him and cried on his slashed chest.

Coronis looked up as she felt a burning glare piercing her skull. There stood Nori. Her eyes were bloodshot and her cheeks were red. No emotions of love, grief, shock, or any feelings were on her face. She stood there numb and blank looking at Coronis, thinking Lord knows what. She had an almost grim face and her skirt had red splotchy patches as if it was blood. Again, who knows what she has been up to?

Coronis was about to say something to her but stopped when she saw Nori slowly backing out. She took steps backwards and slowly turned around all while looking deep into Coronis's eyes. It felt like hours before she got lost in the crowd.

That was the moment when she knew she messed up.

She was left on the ground, bawling her eyes out, with a man with whom she saw herself smiling and laughing through thick and thin. With the man made out of jewels, his heart now felt like a cold diamond.

And there she realized… she lost…

The rivers of tears stopped and whimpers quietened down. Her face depressed down in misery as the reality of her fate washed over her.

It was she who created these fates of chaos, Coronis was. Her actions became the numbness of one and the death of another.

She looked down at the man and slowly laid her head on his cold, still heart as the acceptance shook her body, trying to not accept but her brain knew better than that.

Love, lust, hate, infatuation… feelings. These are trouble to get into. It felt like all of these emotions burned Coronis like a fire in the forest or perhaps killed her like an overdose of drugs.

Her body trembled like an addict wanting that dose of drug. As if she was possessed by a demon. The catch was that she was indeed an addict and was possessed by a demon of her own. Of the people she killed without knowing.

She was indeed lost…

…

The hands of the maids trembled as if they saw a ghost. Their heads lowered painfully to the point their chins were stuck on their chests as they slowly removed every single piece of clothing from His Highness's body.

The scent of roses and vanilla fogged around them as the water in a gigantic floor bathtub filled with water and milk. The petals of the black rose looked pretty on the milky water.

The last piece of his clothes was gone. There he stood. All naked in his glory. His broad shoulders, tight muscles, hard chest, perfectly carved abs, his biceps looked ripped, and his thick thighs highlighted every hard part.

Along with that, his long, fat cock stood proudly, hard and filled with pride. His thick vein on the underside throbbed harder than a racing heart. His veins were thick and poking out, and his pretty mushroom head looked angry and red in need of it to be touched and abused.

However, his jaw was clenching and a frown was settled between his eyebrows and on the chin. And his brain was going back to the picture of Coronis standing in her shack.

“Jimin-ah,” his hoarse voice echoed in the bath.

Jimin’s eyes met with the back of his Lord. “Yes, my lord?”

“My little birdy was a bad girl,” His Highness shook his head and stepped in front of a kneeling woman. “She was not wearing the necklace I gave her. I asked her to always wear it. How could she not listen to me?” He fisted that woman’s hair and shoved his hard cock down her throat with a hum.

The boy looked at the scene and hesitated before saying something. “Perhaps it was hidden under her dress,” he stuttered.

A scoff left the lord’s mouth. “Hidden under her dress, you say?” He bobbed the head of the woman as if she was a toy. Well, for him she was indeed just a filthy toy. “I could see her fucking breast crease through her black gown and you say ‘Perhaps it was hidden under her dress’” he snapped.

The anger boiled inside his chest. And he let it out on the poor woman who had no choice but to take his cock, trying not to gag at the taste of alcohol that lingered in his precum. He had started to drink more alcohol than before. His sweet taste now turned bitter. Her nails dug into her thighs to keep her going. She felt lightheaded.

Jimin gulped and cleared his throat, “My apologies, my lord… I didn't see her Highness. I was merely guarding you just how you prefer.”

Hearing this, a side smile stretched on The Lord's lips. “No wonder why you are my favourite, Jimin-ah,” he rasped. “You always keep things in your mind and act like a loyal bitch,” he sighed, “if I had an eye for a man, I would fuck your holes and fill them up. But alas! It's not for this life.” He grunted as he fucked her mouth harder and faster. The woman could not breathe properly but she did not say a word knowing well enough what he could do if she did not do what he wanted. She just kept on digging her nails into her thighs. Her eyes started to roll back and black spots blurred her vision. The rest of the women kept their heads hung low. “It's about time I punish her.”

With that, he came down her throat with a grunt and pushed her back. She lay down there unconscious, cum staining her mouth. No one dared to treat the woman but scurried into the bath as he stepped into it.

His Highness rested his back against the warm dark marble and spread his arms. His body relaxed and his muscles loosened. He sighed as the hands of his maids started to clean him. “Do me a favour, Jimin-ah. Call the ministers and the headguards in the court. Tell them I called an emergency court.”

He cracked his neck and relaxed, feeling the hands washing him. And thinking about how he only wanted one pair of hands on him sooner.

“Wait for me, little birdy. Wait for the punishment that is going to come your way…”

…

“Coronis, my love,” Martha called her daughter as she looked outside from her window with a black face but a thousand emotions in those dull eyes.

It had been days since Edwin passed away. Coronis stopped speaking and rarely came out of her slot. She wouldn't eat more than two bites of rice. Her cheeks hollowed out and became paler.

Her long black locks were tangled just like her fate. Her inner turmoil disrupted her sanity. There was none to begin with… one of the things that came with living in this realm— no sanity.

“Can you go out, honey? We are short on some stuff. Can you get it for me?” Martha just wanted her daughter back. She thought maybe if she went outside, she would feel different and at least come out of her slot.

Coronis slowly turned her face towards her mother and looked at her old wrinkly face. Her mother's eyes had a subtle shiver in them. It wouldn't be wise to let her go outside at this age and the muddy roads might make her fall.

She nodded slowly and stood up, brushing her hair a bit back. “What do you want?” she asked.

Martha sighed and let her know the necessities.

Heading out, Coronis walked straight to the shop. Her body swung with each step. Everything was rotten around her. The people, the animals, the village, the houses, herself… everything. Everything was rotten just how she felt inside.

She wondered if she would ever be free from this rotten fate. A scoff bubbled in her throat. She cursed inside and thought how impossible it sounded. Free. Never, that would never happen. It almost sounded humorlessly funny.

From the corner of her eye, she saw someone familiar. She looked to her side and saw Nori going somewhere. “Nori!”

Nori looked and froze for a moment and tried to walk away but Coronis was quick to catch up with her and pull her by her arm. “Nori, please talk to me.”

The girl scrunched up her nose, “what do you want from me, Coronis?”

Coronis flinched at how she spat her name. “Please, just one talk,” the dark-haired girl begged.

Nori sighed and got tugged by Coronis towards a narrow alleyway, away from the people. There she looked at Coronis and how terrible she had become. Her eyes lost hope and were dead.

“Nori, I should have told you everything before,” Coronis whispered.

Nori felt like her blood was boiling. “Tell what? That you were fucking another man while fucking me too?! Is that what you should have told me before?! Are you fucking dumb, Coronis? I loved you and you do this to me,” she raised her voice. She showed no remorse for Coronis's loss or her soundness. However, the feelings washed over her. Her eyes burned with feelings and love she hid behind them. “Why would you do me like this? Hm? How could you fuck around like this, hurting people?” she lowered her voice.

“It is not like that, Nori. I would never do this to you,” she whispered.

“But you did,” Nori said in a barely audible voice and held Coronis's arms. “You broke my heart like it was worth nothing. You- you could have just told me that you liked someone else and I would have been out of your hair,” she sniffed.

Coronis shook her head, “my hands are tied, Nori. I- I’m just a puppet. You see these?” she opened her pale hands and showed her, “These have nothing in them. These lines are handled by someone else and it's not even God.”

“You could have said something,” Nori held her tightly. “I could have loved you a little less.”

“I could have…” Coronis nodded and let her tears fall.

“But you chose to hurt me more…” Nori sadly smiled.

Before Coronis could say something. The clops of the royal horses echoed and slowly came close to the alleyway and stopped at the end.

Coronis’s breath hitched seeing those dark, sharp, and calculating eyes that pierced her soul while staring into her eyes.

The King got down from his horse and slowly stepped forward. Nori looked between the two, not knowing what was going on. But she didn't dare to open her mouth and kept her head lower.

The King stood right in front of Coronis. With the back of his hand, he wiped off the tears and ran his thumb lightly over her lower lip and pulled it down. His hand moved down to her neck and felt around… but nothing.

His sharp eyes snapped back into hers. Under his mask, a deadly smirk formed. “You broke the order, my little birdy,” his voice was deeper and viscous. “You must get punished now.”

Coronis shook her head furiously as she felt shivers of horror travelling her body head to toe. “No,” she whispered. Her body was covered in sweat in no time as she felt her heart picking up pace. It was the feeling that ran over her that this was the end. This was the end of the hope.

“No, my love. You must know what it costs for your actions. For your betrayal.”

…..

Sanaa’s note:

The behaviour of all the characters is visualized.

Taglist:

@veneziamadness @cheline @sansmilkbread @jayb17 @constantlydelulusional @8tinytings @tea4sykes @chimmisbae;

@darkuni63 @mageprincess7 @whipwhoops @ackercute @ane102 @kimseokjinsmirror1233 @unhingedgf @jungkooks21 @namjoonscrabjuice @yluv-damara-13 @jksgirlhere @lavenderymoons @passionandsuga @posionapple24 @blueberry711 @shawtylilsalty @gukiebaby @vantelover07 @douknowbts @andioppsworld @xicanacorpse @ttanniett @koohrs

Have a nice day/night💓

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sunny44 · 2 years ago

Text

I will always love you

Pairing: Pierre Gasly x dead!girlfriend

Warnings: mentions of death, mentions of a car accident, mourning, hospital, morgue, cemetery and other things related to death.

Summary: It’s Pierre’s birthday and he’s ready to celebrate after a long day of simulator, but that day ends up in horrible way.

February 7, 2019.

My birthday.

I've never been as excited to celebrate a birthday as I am this year.

It was the first time that my girlfriend Y/n would be celebrating with me, since almost every year I’m racing and she can’t come to wherever I am.

Unfortunately I had to spend the day in the simulator but it was finally over and I was on my way home when I saw that she was calling me.

"Hi love, I know I shouldn't be talking on the phone and driving but..."

"I'm sorry, are you related to Miss Y/n Y/l/n?"

"Yes, she's my girlfriend, who's this?" I ask strangely.

"This is the hospital and Miss Y/N has been in a serious car accident."

"What? Is she all right?" I ask in despair.

"I'm sorry but I can't give you this kind of information on my cell phone, please if you could come over now."

"I'll be right there."

I sped up as much as I could and when I got there I saw her mother crying desperately, clinging to her father who was trying his best to hold back his tears.

"No." I said and they looked at me and I fell to my knees on the floor completely unresponsive.

...

"Excuse me." A nurse appeared. "I'm sorry to have to do this right now but we need someone to recognize the body."

"I can't, I can't do that." Her mother started crying in despair again.

"Pierre." Her father called out to me and I closed my eyes tightly, knowing what was coming next. "I know it's too much to ask and that because of our relationship I don't have the right to ask you for anything, but please, can you do this for us?”

"I'll do it." I say without looking at him and stand up following the nurse.

Her parents hated me, especially her father.

He used to say that I didn't deserve his daughter, I thought that was just at first since we know how fathers are with their daughters but he's hated me since he first met me and has always made a point of making his feelings for me clear.

He loved F1 until his daughter fall in love with one, so I became the inconsequential boyfriend who drove a car in circles and that I would only hurt her and that if I died on the track doing something so stupid it was just to make her suffer, leaving her to mourn a guy who didn't deserve his daughter.

When we arrived at the morgue, I stood in front of the glass window and saw only a body completely covered by a black thing, the coroner was in the room waiting for me to say yes so she could show it to me. I just nodded and she lifted the tarpaulin to show me. Tears instantly started rolling down my eyes, there she was, with pale skin, her face lifeless and her skin all bruised.

I didn't even have to say anything, I think my cry echoing through the cold, empty room said it all.

And not being able to stand it any longer, I just left and went back to where her parents were, who also knew what it meant just by seeing me.

"I'm sorry Pierre, I'm sorry for everything that happened between us."

"There's no point now." I said, shushing him. "I loved your daughter like I've never loved anyone else in my life, I always treated her like a queen and the only things I ever heard from you were criticisms. You don't know how many times your daughter cried on my lap because her father didn't even pretend to like me, so no, I won't accept your apologies right now. Because now that she's gone you feel guilty, you feel guilty because she died the way you said that it would happen to me. Ironic, isn't it?"

Having said that, I left and the last time I saw them was on the day of the funeral and then never again.

...

February 7th, 2023.

My birthday.

Another one I won't be celebrating.

Since February 7, 2019, I've never celebrated it. It never made sense for me to celebrate my life when it was actually gone.

"Mate, you have to celebrate your birthday, let's go out and drink, I’ll pay." Charles said.

"I told you I don't want to." I replied for the thousandth time.

"You have to stop not wanting to do anything every year, you have to enjoy your life."

"I've already said no, I don't want to go out and celebrate something that no longer makes sense." He doesn’t say anything. "It doesn't seem right to go out and celebrate my life when someone I loved has been taken away from me in the same day."

"I know you miss her and that her death has left a lot of marks on you and even worse that it happened on your birthday but she wouldn't want you to live the rest of your life in mourning."

"I can't, I can't celebrate, okay?" Charles sighs, seeing that I'm crying. "So please stop asking."

"It's okay." He hugged me and I collapsed.

...

I entered the cemetery with her favorite flowers and as I got closer I saw her parents, it had been years since I last saw them in the funeral.

"Pierre." Her father said as soon as he saw me standing there.

"Mr. Y/l/n."

"How long." Now her mother says.

"A long time." I follow without wanting to talk to them too much. "I'll be back in a little while."

"No need, we've been here for a while and we'll leave you alone." Her father says, taking her mother's hand. "Happy birthday."

"Without the happy part but thank you." He gives a half-smile and they leave.

I sat down in front of her grave and left the flowers there.

"Hi, my love." I could already feel the tears forming in my eyes. "It's been a while since I last came here. I feel like every time I come here it's like I lose you a little bit more.

I've been thinking lately about what Charles said and it's taken me a while to accept that he was right, I know I'll never get over you because I'm sure you were and still are the love of my life but I've deprived myself of so many things for so long that I feel like all I do is work and go home and I know that as well as being unhealthy you wouldn't want me to live like that, you'd want me to be happy again, to live a happy life and try to find love again. Charles has insisted every year that we have to go out to celebrate my birthday but I never do, I never do because it feels wrong but I'm going to celebrate today, I'm going to celebrate my life and remember yours."

I got up and left a kiss on the headstone.

"I loved you yesterday, I love you today and I will love you till the day I die." I smiled and left, picking up my cell phone.

"Hey, man." Charles says as soon as he answers his cell phone.

"Where are we celebrating today?"

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knittingserpent · 4 months ago

Text

Master list of posts:

My best work

Palestinian Fundraisers(links include multiple fundraisers)

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oneshotnewbie · 2 years ago

Note

Reader is afraid of all kind of animals and when she is on a crime scene and a dog comes to her, she is a mess and hides behind Olivia.

Authors note: Okay, the dog scene seems like an full blown exaggeration, but those are the words of my best friend, who is terrified of dogs.

ᕚ---ᕘ

Icy wind howled around the alley´s massive stone walls while being accompanied by a fine drizzle that blackened the gray concrete floor and blended with the scenario in a cruel symphony.

According to the weather records, it promised to be a beautiful summer day, but the end of the night still reigned with it an impenetrable darkness in which only the never-fading fog stood out.

Driven by the storm that was about to end, you wafted through the waving barrier tape to the scene of crime, where your colleagues were already waiting for you. "What do we have?"

You stared sternly at the corpse of a young woman after you knelt down and stretched your cold and shivering fingers under the tarpaulin she laid beneath. She was young, no more than 25, and was apparently a victim of strangulation.

"Patricia Mills, 21 years old. According to witnesses, she was last seen with a much older man and woman in the bar a few blocks from here.

According to camera footage, the three left the said bar around 2am", Fin Tutuola quoted the information he himself had received from the lieutenant. He looked down at you and was not surprised that you still looked a little wrinkled and tired.

Your night tended to be a little shorter than his own, you being the last to leave the department.

You yawned in response to successfully digesting the information he had given you.

"Well, y/n? Did you have a good time last night?" Rollins could not resist asking after she had followed some leads and returned back to the crime scene with Olivia. The opportunity begged to be used for a little teasing of her partner. Just for your annoyed look and your snotty answer, it was worth carefully crossing your nerves with the front toe of her shoe.

"Sure, Mandy. I threw a huge stripper party in Olivia's office yesterday. I was surprised you two did not come back to join," you winked and quickly turned back to the corpse to avoid the glare from them. "What was the exact cause of death?" you asked, quickly tucking the sheet back over the woman's face, the reporters already lurking to snap a perfect photo to the press.

"According to the coroner, the woman was strangled with a thin rope as you have already recognized from the marks," the brunette sighed and continued. "Scratches on her forearms and face indicate that she fought back. With luck, we will have the foreign DNA under her fingernails"

You nodded vigorously and allowed the coroner to put the body in a body bag. "Same procedure as with the other four women. Our serial killer?"

Olivia Benson looked at you and shrugged. It was possible, the train of thought was quite obvious. However, it was the wrong area where the serial killer usually murdered. So it remained to be seen whether the strangulation marks on the neck matched those worn by the other victims over the past month.

"Milo, stop!" screamed a woman at the top of her lungs, bringing you and the others off the spindles of evidence. You watched as a brown Labrador puppy swooped under the crime scene tape and rushed towards you, pointy, white teeth showing and the tongue hanging out.

Man's best friend was illogical to you. Animals were more of a nightmare depending on how they were trained by humans. But most of the time, those words perfectly described these creatures in your eyes. Dangerous.

Depending on the strength of their bone-crushing teeth, they could rip off an arm or a leg. Dogs could knock you over and break bones depending on their weight. It was even worse when they barked loudly and brought you closer to a heart attack.

It was the traumatizing experience that made you think that way. Since then you were so scared that you tried to avoid the places where they hung out the most with their owners. Every time you met a dog, big or small, made your mind became a haze of fear and panic.

"Take away the dog, take him away!" you practically yelled in the ear of your best friend, Olivia, and dodged aside behind her. Your hands rested frantically on her shoulders, pulling her back toward you with every movement to shield you from the animal.

The dog, his name apparently Milo by the call, was running around sniffing the place frantically before pulling himself up on the Lieutenant's leg and hastily wagging his tail. "Y/n that is just a cute puppy, what is the matter with you?" she coaxed softly, trying to pet the young dogs head.

"Those are little demons! One wrong move and those things will maul you. They are only out for your flesh and blood!" you remarked and pulled Olivia closer to you, your back now completely pressed against the wall of the house.

You were frightened beyond reality, paralyzed in places as you stared at the pup. Olivia, being the concerned and loving type, trailed his thin body with her hands and picked him up, before he could reach you.

Despite your obvious tiredness, however, you suddenly seemed fully awake. Amanda, Olivia and Fin took that as an opportunity to grin broadly at you. "Oh Detective. Are you afraid of dogs?"

They watched as you promptly blushed. You opened and closed your mouth, but not a word came out of you. "Not afraid of dead bodies but god forbid a little puppy approaches her. We know you are a little scaredy-cat behind your badass facade"

You rolled your eyes at Fin´s comment and punched him lightly on the shoulder. No one had tried to hide the deep laugh. You folded your arms across your chest and watched as Amanda took the dog up in her arms and back from the crime scene to its owner, who was standing behind the crime scene tape, tensed and apologetic.

You shook visibly next to Olivia. Gently, she guided your hands into hers, caressing them with their thumbs to calm you down. "Y/n, sweetheart. It is okay, nothing happened to you and nothing will happen to you. We are partners and partners trust each other," she spoke softly and gently pulled you into her arms. "Why did you not ever tell us that you are afraid of dogs?" she queried, stroking your shoulders.

"I did not want you to think the wrong way about me. I am super strong at work and can handle anything but I am scared of dogs? How does that look like?"

"We will both get through this together okay? I will help you overcome the fear so that you become even stronger than you already are," she promised with all her heart, and started moving into the car with you in her arms.

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picturesofthegoneworlds · 11 months ago

Text

The sands are repetitive, despite Laudna's best efforts to catalogue the differences – trying to allow each grain to wear its own hue, oil-slick petrol rainbow under the mid-day sun, rippled from sandstorm residue and snakes’ belly dancing, heat hazing horizon.

But it all replicates, barren, bleak, another blister to the sole from a charcoaled burn on Exandria’s surface.

Imogen's focus is elsewhere, on staving off exhaustion. She’s quiet. It leaves Laudna with too much mind to paint herself in the tattered black skirt guise of the desert.

Imogen stops for the fourth time in a short amount of it, hand to her hip retrieving then removing the cork stopper from her waterskin with her teeth before dabbing its contents onto her neckerchief, patting it over the exposed skin of her chest and forehead before she ties it back around her neck, bright yellow hue ambered.

Laudna has been studying. Deciphering what is adult human behaviour and what is Imogen. Comparing quirks against necessity, can argue the case for accommodating, for blending in.

Their pace has been slower than usual, much slower, and it must only be early afternoon, but Imogen’s waterskin is almost drained, and of course, Laudna will happily give Imogen her own supply, undoubtedly, but she fears that there is a quite likely reality where even double her ration will not be enough, is unsure of the amount of days travel ahead thanks to empty horizons.

“It’s too much, isn’t it?”

“huh?” Imogen pushes her hair off of her forehead with the heel of her palm, revealing all of the perspiration congregating at the roots of her hairline, percolating at her temples.

“The heat…”

Just a moment later and she is ruffling her fingertips through the front of her scalp, causing the lengths of lilac locks to cascade back over her forehead and cover more of her face from the sun.

“I can’t lie - I’ve been fantasizin’ about bein’ back in that forest during the rainstorm.”

That forest where Imogen had built them a shelter, had dried Laudna out, and as her thanks she had rouged Imogen’s lips with elf cup stain that her ichor blighted, answered her questions as if her intricacies were reward enough-

Imogen’s eyes squint from the bright light, or possibly the salty sweat that has gathered in the corners of them – probably both.

“Perhaps we should be travelling in the night and early morning. Let’s rest and try to make cover.”

Imogen shifts her weight between her feet, stepping from one onto the other, dancing on hot coals.

“I won’t say no.”

Laudna is just as grateful for that placation as she was for the one that had lead her finger to the swell of Imogen’s lip, maybe more.

The sand is hot. The sand is hot so Imogen can’t stay still. The sand is so hot that the heat transfers through the soles of her shoes, so it must transfer through her dress, her shorts, through the pile of their blanket. Laudna gathers sticks, branches, has no need for kindling. Laudna gathers tangled brush and bark from dead wood and dried up shrubs and weaves them all together like a nest, instinct maternal, infertile, basket weaver, furnishings gathered in the back of a butcher’s cart. They build it together (the shelter, not a nest, not a basket, not a home), Laudna arranging the twigs like plaited threshing and Imogen driving longer, more substantial branches into the ground, energy exerting, muscle and flesh sculpture shadows exaggerated under sun four posts for canopy tarpaulin and perspiring profusely and Laudna wishes that maybe her lungs could hold a much greater capacity, that she could walk the two of them, Imogen wrapped under arm-awning’ed shade of her cloak and fanned by cold breaths like a draught from under a snow-capped cabin’s door.

#Imodna #Imogen Temult #Laudna #Critical Role #Bells Hells #Fanfic #Emma writes

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dr-futbol-blog · 4 months ago

Text

The Lost Boys, Pt. 7

They all gather around Ford's ship, a wraith dart of unknown origin, somewhere outside the cave. The dart has been hidden under a camouflage tarpaulin, concealing it from anyone that might be flying above, and some of Ford's men have gone on ahead to uncover it. Jace and Ford seem to be walking together just like Sheppard and McKay, the two of whom only put distance between them as they arrive at the scene. Sheppard is still stationed between McKay and Jace, make of that what you will. Ford is walking slightly ahead of Jace and Sheppard is walking slightly ahead of McKay, and at least for Sheppard is this likely a largely subconscious effort to protect McKay from what ever might be waiting for them at their destination, using his body to shield McKay. Ronon and Teyla are keeping the rear.

Their leisurely stroll from the cave over to the meadows has done very little to calm down McKay but Sheppard seems to be much more in control of himself, able to speak again. The previous time he had stood next to one of these things (Duet, S02E04) he had been forced to gamble with McKay's life which had ended up with one of his new Lieutenants (Cadman) taking up residence in McKay's brain, so it does not exactly bring up warm and fuzzy feelings for him. But he is at the very least curious. Ford has his attention.

Sheppard: OK, where did you get it? Ford: Does it matter? Kanayo: None of us have had much success flying it. Banged it up pretty bad the last couple of landings. It's in need of some repairs. Ford: And a real pilot. Sheppard: This is why you brought us here. Ford: It's the reason I waited 'til now, yes.

Even though he still does not care one whit what Ford and his men are planning to do here, he is at least starting to be able to put the pieces together. He is the best pilot that Ford knows and he wants him to fly the ship. The only thing that Sheppard himself wants to do with darts is to shoot them down from the sky, and since this one already seems to be on the ground, he's good. But he can already see where this is going when Kanayo mentions repairs. McKay looks searchingly at Sheppard, probably to get some inkling of what they are supposed to think about this, but Sheppard seems to be avoiding his gaze, just looking dead ahead as Kanayo is speaking. So McKay turns to look at Kanayo instead, gathering information that would help him understand what they are doing here that Sheppard seems already to have worked out for himself.

Kanayo: Assuming this guy can get it working again. Ford: He can. These people are the best at what they do. Kanayo: Look, you fly it, you scoop us up, you take us to the hive, you drop us off. All we need is time to lay the charge. We'll be in and out of there before the wraith have any idea what's going on.

McKay is looking really uneasy and he is clearly trying to keep his mouth shut so as not to make their situation worse. His breathing seems heavy and he is looking away from everyone and from the dart, toward the forest, probably trying to calm himself down. Sheppard avoiding meeting his gaze does not sit well with him because he does not understand why Sheppard does it--and we see Sheppard actually look heavenward as he turns toward Kanayo as the man is speaking, so as not to accidentally let McKay in on what he is thinking here. It is clear that Sheppard is avoiding McKay's eyes on purpose.

McKay clearly does not like to be touched by this bandit, in a faux-friendly manner as he does it, although he merely turns to look at him in response. Sheppard, on the other hand, draws his lips back in an expression that outwardly resembles a smile but is a smile about as much as a wolf curling its lips back to reveal its incisors is a smile. Sheppard really does not like it when other people touch McKay. We saw him looking daggers at the nurse removing a splinter from McKay's hand in Conversion (S02E08). It is only the fact that what Kanayo said actually seems to give him an idea that he lets it be, for now.

Ford describes his old team with a clear sense of pride, since having once been a member of the flagship team had meant something to him. But it is also curious that he describes them with the words that are frequently used to describe the Canadian superhero Wolverine, the best at what he does (but what he does best is not very nice). This is to say, the whole team are here likened to mutants, those allegories for the gay liberation movement. While Ford knows what Teyla is capable of and has gone toe-to-toe with Ronon, it is clear that he meant mainly Sheppard and McKay with this designation. But flattery is not the way to McKay's heart. In fact, he has had just about as much as he can take.

Ford: It's perfect. McKay: It is far from perfect. Sheppard: But it is possible. Teyla: Colonel... McKay: Are you, are you honestly considering this? Sheppard: It's on its way to a culling, Rodney.

We hear McKay's voice almost break as he interjects, unable to keep himself from speaking out any longer. All this talk of hives and explosives and Sheppard flying a ship into a hive with the explosives just keeps digging up those painful memories, made only worse by the fact that Sheppard actually seems to want to go along with it.

We have seen that wordless communication between Sheppard and McKay, we have seen them understand each other from mere syllables, from looks alone. Here, it is the fact that McKay is so deep in his grief and the fact that Sheppard is (purposefully, so as not to alert anyone to what he is thinking here) avoiding looking at McKay that makes McKay unable to intuit what Sheppard is going for here. Sheppard could have communicated all of it to McKay but McKay has no poker face, and he thinks that they are safer off with him leaving McKay in the dark about his current thoughts. Where McKay is a world-class liar, he is a terrible bluffer, as he described himself in The Eye (S01E11): "I've lost small fortunes at poker. Look, my eye twitches, I laugh inappropriately, it's not pretty." McKay's incredulity here actually plays into Sheppard's hand because by having to convince McKay, he might also be able to convince Ford that he was actually going along with this. But he does not like seeing McKay this way, and so he has to look away from him as he fibs Ford.

McKay: Yeah, and I am sorry about that, but this is insane! Sheppard: Maybe not. Ford: Jace has been trying to get it working, but he's not you, McKay.

McKay is struck speechless by Sheppard's behaviour, convinced that one of them has lost their mind and he is not even sure that it is Sheppard at this point. He is suddenly on Opposite World and nothing makes sense. As mentioned with Aurora (S02E09), it may even be easier for McKay to fall for Sheppard's deadpan delivery because the tone he uses when he is playing innocent is not so different from the soft tones that he uses with McKay when other people are not around. His faux-earnestness is not altogether different from his real earnestness but most people outside of McKay only ever get to witness the first. Someone who knows Sheppard less well might be more suspicious about his sudden about-face here. And it is the fact that McKay's reaction to him is entirely authentic that Sheppard thinks might sell this to Ford.

Note that Jace touches his lower lip with his tongue as Ford mentions that McKay is real good at the kind of thing that Jace wants to be good at, and he genuinely seems to look up to McKay. Unlike with Sheppard, this is not self-soothing behaviour as this man really and truly seems to be into McKay like that. He is looking forward to being able to work with him on this. Only, McKay is not feeling very amenable at the moment.

Ford: Can you fix it? McKay: No, probably not. Sheppard: That usually means yes. McKay: Aren't you the one not taking the enzyme? You're supposed to be the clear voice of reason here!

Sheppard is talking for McKay here, and he is displaying how well he knows McKay because this is absolutely true. Sheppard knows that McKay can very likely fix this and his reluctance to do it is motivated by his upset. McKay says to Ford that he probably cannot do it but they all know that it is a lie. Sheppard would not volunteer McKay to do this unless he was fairly convinced that this might be their ticket out of here because while he does not like putting the pressure on McKay, keeping McKay safe and getting McKay safely out of here trumps all other considerations.

But this is also a clear call-back to Condemned (S02E05) where they had likewise been held captive by bandits that were up to no good and who wanted McKay to fix their jumper to get out of the prison colony. Even though McKay had been trying to hide from their captors that he might have figured something out, Sheppard had been able to tell the truth because he knows what McKay sounds when he is actually at a loss, when he is at the end of his rope. And although it has nothing to do with his ability to fix the dart, he can also hear it here that McKay is very close to the edge, that end of the proverbial rope, is truly and honestly agitated by their situation. He tries to use a soft, calming tone but McKay is simply not hearing him because he is working himself up.

Earlier it was unclear whether Sheppard had actually revealed to his team that Ford had left him off the enzyme plan, but it seems that Sheppard had told at least McKay that he had not been taking it like the others. And because Sheppard was clean, McKay had been trusting him to look after them, to be able to put a stop to it if the enzyme caused them to do something that they should not be doing. He feels betrayed here, most of all because Sheppard is not only not backing him up in this but is contradicting him in public, in front of people, and that is just not something one does with someone they love. Clearly they have not been able to work out the things between them as much as he thought they had. McKay is done.

Ford: Look, can you fix it? McKay: Even if I could, I wouldn't. I'm sorry, drug me all you want, I'm not doing this. Sheppard: Let me talk to him. He'll come round. Ford: OK.

McKay takes off and it has everything to do with his hurt feelings. He is not walking off to get away from Ford and his men, his plan, but to get away from Sheppard. He cannot deal with his emotions, there is just too much going on inside him and he does not even know what part of it is caused by the enzyme. He feels hurt, he feels betrayed, he feels humiliated and he feels abandoned by the person he had been counting on the most. His categorical refusal to do this has nothing to do with any moral qualms but he refuses, flat out refuses to facilitate Sheppard undertaking another suicide mission. He is not going to be lifting one finger to help them put Sheppard into a ship that will fly into a hive with explosives, not even if they kill him, because if Sheppard does that, he might as well be dead. He is not going to survive watching Sheppard die again. To him this is about keeping Sheppard safe and the fact that Sheppard seems not just willing but keen to go along with it is like a blade to his heart, and he cannot deal with this.

Sheppard, on the other hand, could not have played this better because he needed to get McKay alone for a moment. Clearly he needed to explain things to him and would have been unable to do it under the watchful eyes of the others. And it seemed like between Jace and Kanayo, Ford had not been wanting for the two of them to have any privacy, any time for just the two of them. Ford was clearly afraid of what they might come up with, left to their own devices, even if he had learned from McKay that two heads being better than one was a common misconception. But now McKay himself had given him an in to get him alone for a moment, and he was going to take it. It did not feel good to go about it like this but getting McKay off of this planet was the most important thing to him and Sheppard could make up for his hurt feelings later, when they were far away from here.

But notice how Sheppard lifts up his hand as McKay takes off. This is not a wave of good-bye because Sheppard does not do that kind of thing anyway, and certainly not with McKay. It is a visceral and immediate reaction to McKay walking away from him, an attempt to stop him from leaving. His entire body revolts against the idea that McKay is leaving him, is walking away from him, and so his hand has come up to stop him entirely of its own volition, even though his conscious mind knows that McKay will not actually be able to go anywhere and is just venting his feelings. His hand comes up because he wants to touch McKay, to caress him, to tell him that it is all going to be alright, but the man is gone before he has had time to even think about any of this. It is just an automatic response to seeing McKay like this, and although Sheppard is glad that he will be able to talk with McKay alone, seeing McKay walk away is anything but easy for him. It does not make him feel good. He sure hopes he is doing the right thing here.

Continued in Pt. 8

#sga #stargate atlantis #john sheppard #sga meta #sheppard is bi #rodney mckay #rodney is gay #mcshep #ep. the lost boys #ep. condemned #ep. the eye #ep. aurora #ep. duet #ep. the brotherhood

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