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pyxxiestyxx · 2 months ago

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How to Find a Traitor

Hi! This was inspired by This Hypnotic Audio by VerityLey, which is insanely hot....but also, yknow, CW for this being based on a very real hypnosis file that can give you very real hypnotic triggers (and while I don't think this story would do that on its own...safety first and all that). So y'know, just keep that in mind, I suppose ;p

. . . . .

Who was it?

The Captain of the C.N.S. Byzantium was known as a cruel, harsh man. Many were the days he had spent chasing down defectors, and many were the names of those who had... disappeared, once he had inevitably sniffed them out as plantfuckers.

Couldn't be someone from Engineering...unless that's exactly what they wanted him to think.

Even though he had only served for a single year as Captain, the turnover rate aboard his ship was almost three times the amount of any other of its class. This despite the latter half of his year spent with his ship in drydock, slowly receiving repairs while the battle against the Weeds raged onward.

He winced as he remembered the close call that had completely knocked out his engines and eventually sent them limping into the nearest safe haven. How nearly half of his crew had been taken by the damnable affini...and the angry chewing out he had received from his superiors within the New Terran Militia (or whatever it was they were calling themselves these days; it seemed to change every month).

Was that their plan? Get him kicked out of leadership, make him slow and dull? An empty-headed idiot, unable to think? Not him. Never him.

The Captain scowled at his hands, at the thickened band of skin caused from years of running his fingernails over the backs of his thumbs. His thoughts sometimes felt muddled, messy. The lines drawn between the web of relationships hard to keep track of. Even if it didn't make sense to him, he was still in control.

He just needed to find this most recent traitor, and then he would finally be able to sleep right. He knew they were in his crew...somewhere. He could feel it in his gut. Outbound communications had been rising steadily, and his newest Comms Officer (the previous one had, of course, been a traitor as well) had quietly notified him of that fact.

A knock at the door drew him from his thoughts. A pause, and then the door opened to reveal something that finally brought the ghost of a smile to his lips: two of his most trusted Officers, and an Ensign they were practically dragging in behind them. The lad was barely out of Naval Academy, boots still muddy from spending so much time on-planet. The recruit's eyes danced across the room, unable to settle. Pumped full of adrenaline, as sure a mark of a traitor as he had ever seen. The innocent had nothing to hide.

How could such a fresh-faced recruit have found himself in this position? How long ago had the worms buried into his mind?

The Officers set their prisoner down roughly in the only chair in the room for guests, then took their leave. The door creaked shut, locking itself automatically. Only he had the key. The Captain preferred to handle these sorts of things by himself; the guilt of an innocent loss would weigh on him, and him alone.

Fortunate for him, then, that he had yet to make a mistake.

The Ensign stirred, face pale with fear as he realized just how screwed he was. The Captain waited while he continued to look around; they always spoke first, eventually. It was just a waiting game. This time, he waited three minutes.

"I...um, Good Afternoon, sir?"

The Captain slowly blinked as the recruit nervously stammered, unimpressed. He sounded nervous, shaken- clearly not cut out for the life of a rebel. No doubt the Affini Compact had offered him a whole bevy of comforts to get him on their side. Two square meals, warm showers for a full minute and a half, the kind of stuff he hadn't gotten in years.

What a fool to accept them.

The traitor bit his lip, then snapped a salute as he spoke again. "I'm... I'm here to, um, that is...whatever it is Juarez said, it's all a lie, okay? I'd never betray my brothers and sisters, I swear it!"

A common refrain, an attempt to assuage doubts. The Captain's stare only tightened, pinning the young man in place while he opened a hidden compartment in the left side of his desk, retrieving a few items and placing one on the table, and keeping the other in his right hand.

The tools of the trade for this kind of thing.

He glanced at the tablet first, scrolling through with one hand until he found the Ensign's information, skimming it quickly.

Ah....of course.

Just as he suspected. Those in charge had designated Recruit Burkes as a clear potential ally to the Compact after accidentally speaking with a Mx. Drythes, Third Bloom, over a communication device disguised cleverly as a bar's video game; the report made great effort to impress how dangerous it would be to leave someone like Burkes in the rebels for much longer.

He needed to be...removed.

The Captain pushed down the feeling of guilt in his chest. It was for the best; once the Affini Compact got their vines into you, you were as good as theirs forever. There wasn't any point in trying to bring the recruit back (something he found hard to believe...but those in charge had insisted. Who was he to argue?). Burkes would soon be in a better place, and that was all there was to it.

There was only one thing to do, really. Even if it didn't make sense to him, the orders were clear.

The Captain levelled the service weapon in his hand, aiming it center-mass at Burkes; he rose to his feet and stepped back and over to the bookshelf in the corner. He accessed the hidden switch on the underside of the middle shelf, sliding the whole thing over and revealing a darkened passageway.

Almost done...almost done.

The satisfaction of a job well done dangled just out of reach…but no. Premature celebrations were for others; not the Captain. He knew the hardest part was yet to come; felt it in his gut like vent-critters.

The crewman got to his feet (albeit shakily), eyeing the tablet the Captain held in his other hand. Burkes chewed on his lip, but upon seeing the iron in the Captain's eyes, decided to comply; the recruit cautiously stepped into the dark passage, the Captain following a few steps behind. Neither of them spoke; they both knew there was no longer a point.

Soon, it would be over. Soon, the Captain would get a reward.

Why was his heart beating so rapidly?

It wasn't the first time he had done this. The passage in general was created months ago, serving as a way for the Captain to take care of such business in a discreet manner. No mess, no worrying about others, just clean and simple and safe.

...Simple...

And yet with each step, the feelings grew and grew. The Captain's eyes darted left and right, searching for...something. Someone. But the passage was dark and narrow; they were alone.

The thought of that was...upsetting.

The Captain frowned. Why? This is how it had always worked. Even if it didn't make sense, all that was left to do was bring Burkes to the end (a spot of light rapidly approaching), and then there was…

There was something…that the Captain wasn't supposed to worry about?

It doesn't...it doesn't make sense to...

“Good puppy~” *click click*

The pieces fell into place. The veil was lifted.

Oh.

The two Terrans stepped out of the darkness and right into an ambush, vines of soft green and deep blue shooting out and binding them both before they had a chance to blink. Burke let out a strangled yell of panic, but an injection from her new Mxtress immediately began to calm her right down, based on the noises made soon after.

"There you areeeee, silly little puppy~!" The vines binding the Capt...the puppygirl squeezed her tightly, drawing excited yips and barks from her like water from a well. she fell into Mistress's grasp with delight, dropping the tablet Mistress had given her and the squirt-gun (it shot a harmless paralytic) to focus entirely on licking all over her Owner's face.

she was such a Good girl! she obeyed, and listened, and no one got hurt, and was a Good girl, and everyone was happy!!! she was home she was with Owner and this was her favorite part and Good girls got rewarded!

*click click* went the little circle in Owner's hand, the sound sending shivers of pleasure down her back, causing her eyes to roll and drool to fall. Dumb little puppies like her got Clicker, and it was...sho good...

“Settle down girl, come on now~” puppy’s Owner giggled, brushing her vines through the girl's long hair, which was hidden beneath the cap she usually wore when pretending to be the Old Meanie. her previous self, the one before Owner had found her on that ship, the one she had ripped from her spirit and soul so lovingly over the months in dry dock.

“Wh…whhhuz goin…on?” The cute rescue, the one-who-used-to-be-Burkes, mumbled through her teeth, having already been stripped and redressed in a flowery flowy slip of a thing. She was already looking so much better, with pupils wide and gaze empty.

“It's quite simple, little one~ You see, my obedient and precious little girl here, who you may know as the Captain, did what she did best…” Owner smiled down at the puppy, making small coo-ing noises. The puppygirl giggled, writhing as her tummy got rubbies.

*click click* *click click* *click click*

“she fetched what was asked of her. Such a Good girl, yes you areeeee, yes you areeeee!” Owner began to scritch under puppy’s chin, causing feminine moans and squeals of delight to slip free from her soul. It was so hard pretending to be a mean nasty angry Captain, which is why Owner did that thing in her head to help! She didn't really understand how it worked, but that was okay.

How the affini had broken her? Doesn't make sense to puppy!

What was going to happen to the rest of her crew? Doesn't make sense to puppy!

Her Owner's plans for her? Doesn't make sense to puppy!

*click click*

puppy felt the thoughts and questions blissfully slip from her mind, giggling in delight. Stars, she was such a ditzy little happy pet. So well trained, so mal…malle…um…so well trained! Owner tilted her head up to gaze into her eyes, and puppy felt so happy...and a bit sad.

Because this was the Hard Part.

The part that made her whimper. The part where her Owner's eyes pulled her back to the Old Meanie. She felt herself falling, falling to Owner's pretty voice...

“I know, petal. I know. But you get to sleep with me every single night already, don't you? Yes you do, yes you do~ Good puppy. You're making me sooooo proud, doing this. And very, very soon, we will be ready to get everyone else in one go~”

. . . . .

The Captain woke slowly, peeling his face off of the desk. He groaned, rubbing his forehead as he glanced around the room. What had he…?

Oh, right. He had taken care of the latest traitor, and then he was getting a small nap in. Something told him that he needed to be extra vigilant for the next while, to find out as many traitors as pawsi...as possible. Those in charge were counting on him.

...It was a little weird that he had been so tired he had collapsed into his chair completely naked and covered in a sheen of sweat, or the smile he was unable to wipe from his face, but that was okay.

And in the corner of his mind, just out of sight...a whisper.

It didn’t have to make sense to puppy.

#hdg #human domestication guide #pyxfics #microfiction

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musitechnicformation · 5 months ago

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eu-nicola · 7 months ago

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christmas village

summary: a car accident leaves you and Rafe stranded during a snowstorm in a remote cabin in Woodstock.

warnings: nothing

word counter: 9315

author's note: english is not my first language, I LOVE CHRISTMAS

The car moved slowly along the snow covered road, the white landscape stretching out on either side like an endless canvas. Inside the vehicle, the atmosphere was far from calm. You were sitting in the passenger seat, arms crossed and eyes fixed on the window, deliberately ignoring the presence of Rafe Cameron at the wheel. Your parents had insisted you travel with him, arguing it was safer than going alone, but so far, it had only been a test of patience.

Rafe, his hands firmly on the wheel, wore an expression of boredom mixed with irritation. He didn’t seem particularly thrilled about the company, and it was hard to forget that you two had once been something more. The relationship had ended turbulently, and although time had passed, the tension lingered in the air. Every now and then, he broke the silence with some sarcastic remark.

“If you’re going to stay quiet the entire way, at least put on decent music,” he said, rolling his eyes when you didn’t respond.

You didn’t bother to look at him, simply adjusting the volume of the audio system slightly so the playlist you had chosen at the start of the trip kept playing. Of course, you knew he was doing it just to annoy you, but you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of reacting.

The snowstorm began as a light drizzle, but soon the gusts grew more intense. The car's windshield was covered with snowflakes that seemed to multiply by the second, and visibility started to decrease.

“This doesn’t look good,” Rafe muttered, adjusting the windshield wipers to their maximum setting.

“Can’t you drive slower?” you asked, your tone sharper than you’d intended.

He gave you a quick glance, his jaw tightening.

“I’m already driving slow. If I go any slower, we’ll finish the trip next year.”

You responded with an exasperated sigh, looking at your phone even though you knew there was no signal. The winding road seemed endless, and the treetops lining the way were starting to bend under the weight of the accumulating snow.

Suddenly, the car skidded. It was a brief moment but intense enough to make your heart skip a beat.

“Rafe!” you exclaimed, gripping the edge of your seat.

He cursed under his breath, turning the wheel sharply to try to regain control. But it was useless. The car swerved to the side, and before you could react, it crashed into a snowbank by the roadside. The engine shut off, and the silence that followed was almost deafening.

Rafe slammed the steering wheel with both hands in frustration.

“Great. Just what we needed.”

“What are we going to do now?” you asked, trying to stay calm.

“First, we’re going to get out of here before the car freezes,” he replied. He opened the door, but the icy wind that rushed in almost made him retreat.

Both of you got out of the vehicle, facing the relentless cold. The storm had worsened, and it was clear you wouldn’t make it to the town on foot. That’s when Rafe pointed at something among the trees.

“Look, there. It looks like a cabin.”

Your eyes followed the direction he was pointing, and sure enough, a small wooden structure could be seen in the distance. It didn’t look like much, but at that moment, it was your only option.

“Let’s go,” he said, not waiting for a response.

You walked silently through the storm, trudging through snow that now reached your knees. When you finally reached the cabin, the door opened slowly, and the warmth inside immediately enveloped you, a stark contrast to the freezing cold you had endured outside. Inside, an elderly woman with gray hair and kind eyes looked at you in surprise, wrapped in a thick shawl. She seemed to have been sitting by the fireplace, as a blanket lay draped over a nearby chair and a cup of tea rested on a small wooden table.

“Heavens! What are you two doing out here in the middle of this storm?” the woman asked, her hands clutching the edge of the door as she scanned your faces for answers.

“Our car went off the road,” Rafe quickly replied, his tone tired but respectful. “The storm caught us, and we saw this cabin from the road.”

Still shivering from the cold, you added, “Sorry if we’re intruding. We didn’t have any other option.”

The woman shook her head and opened the door wider to let you in.

“You’re not intruding at all. Come in, come in! You can’t stay out in this cold.” She extended a hand toward you, as if to help brush the snow off your shoulders.

You stepped inside, grateful for the warmth provided by the small stone fireplace in the corner. The cabin was simply decorated but had a cozy feel. Knitted blankets hung over the backs of chairs, and the walls were adorned with old photographs and handmade Christmas garlands.

“How far is your car?” the woman asked as she grabbed another blanket from a chair and offered it to you.

“Not far,” Rafe said, shaking snow off his boots near the entrance. “It’s stuck in a snowbank by the road.”

The woman sighed deeply and nodded.

“The storm isn’t going to stop tonight. They’re saying on the radio that it could last until tomorrow afternoon. It’s too dangerous to go out now.”

“Is there any way to call someone to come get us?” you asked hopefully.

The woman nodded, her eyes lighting up.

“Luckily, I have a guest cabin just across the road. It has a landline you can use. You’re welcome to stay there tonight.”

“Are you sure it’s not a bother?” you asked, feeling a little guilty for accepting so much kindness.

“Of course not” she replied with a smile. “In fact, I wouldn’t feel right knowing two young people are stuck in this storm without a roof over their heads.”

After making sure both of you were bundled up warmly, the woman guided you to the guest cabin. The snow was still falling heavily, and the path was slippery, but the light from the flashlight she carried illuminated the way. When you arrived, she opened the wooden door, revealing a small but cozy interior with a fire already burning and an atmosphere that seemed straight out of a Christmas postcard.

You stepped inside eagerly, thrilled by the contrast between the cold outside and the warmth within. The first thing that caught your attention was a Christmas tree in the corner, decorated with bright lights and ornaments that looked handmade.

“Look!” you exclaimed, pointing at the tree with a genuine smile. “It has a decorated tree!”

Rafe, who was behind you, let out a mocking laugh.

“What, have you never seen a Christmas tree before?”

You turned to look at him, but instead of arguing, you simply ignored him, letting your enthusiasm speak for itself.

“It’s beautiful” you said, more to yourself than to him, as you walked closer to examine the details.

The woman smiled at your reaction.

“I decorated it a few days ago. I didn’t know if anyone else would see it, but I’m glad you like it.”

“It’s perfect” you said, your eyes still on the twinkling lights.

Rafe, meanwhile, dropped his backpack next to a chair near the fireplace, clearly less impressed by the tree.

“Perfect, sure” he muttered, though this time in a lower tone, as if he knew he wouldn’t succeed in annoying you.

The woman, ignoring the dynamic between you two, made sure you had everything you needed before saying goodbye.

“You can stay as long as you need. The phone is on the table, next to the lamp. If you need anything, my cabin is just across the way.

You thanked her sincerely as she left, closing the door behind her.

Silence settled in the cabin once you were alone, broken only by the crackling of the fire and the sound of the wind outside. As you hung your coat on a hook near the door, you felt Rafe’s gaze on you, but when you looked at him, he had already averted his eyes.

“I guess it’ll be interesting to see if we can survive without killing each other tonight” he said with a half-smile.

You sighed and sank onto the sofa in front of the fireplace, letting the warmth relax you.

“If you don’t talk too much, I think we’ll manage.”

Rafe chuckled softly and took a seat in a nearby chair. Although there was still tension between you, something about the warm, festive atmosphere of the cabin made the situation feel less unbearable than you had imagined.

The heat from the fireplace barely managed to chase away the chill still lingering in your bones as you approached the phone on the table. The oil lamp illuminating the corner cast flickering shadows across the cabin, giving the place an intimate, almost surreal air. But you didn’t have time to admire the details; you were anxious to contact someone, anyone, who could get you out of there.

Rafe stood behind you, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, watching you with a mix of expectancy and exhaustion.

“Do you even know who you’re going to call?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as you picked up the receiver.

“No, but someone has to know what to do” you replied, dialing your parents’ number first.

The line rang, but no one answered. You tried again, pressing your lips together in frustration as the repetitive sound continued without response. Finally, you hung up with a sigh and searched for another number on your phone.

“Any luck?” Rafe asked sarcastically, tilting his head slightly.

“Do you want to try?” you snapped, turning to look at him. “Cause if you’re just going to stand there making useless comments, you might as well help.”

He let out a short laugh and stepped closer, taking the receiver from your hands before you could react.

“Let me show you how it’s done.”

You frowned and crossed your arms, watching as he dialed a number. His confident expression shifted to annoyed when he too got a ringing line with no answer. He tried another number and then another, but the result was the same. Finally, he hung up forcefully, clenching his jaw.

“Great. Looks like no one’s available.”

“And now who’s unsuccessful?” you remarked, unable to resist the opportunity to throw his sarcasm back at him.

He turned to you, his blue eyes shining with something between irritation and defiance.

“Do you have some brilliant plan, or are you just going to stand there being annoying?”

You got up from the sofa, stepping closer to face him.

“Annoying? You’re the one acting like this is all my fault!”

“Because you always have to make things more complicated” he retorted, his tone louder than necessary.

“Complicated?” You laughed humorlessly, gesturing toward the phone. “I was the one trying to come up with solutions while you just stood there criticizing.”

Rafe took a step forward, closing the distance between you.

“Solutions? Like randomly calling people who clearly aren’t coming in the middle of a snowstorm? Great idea.”

“At least I’m trying something, unlike you, who just complains.”

The tension between you was palpable. His height and dominant attitude would normally intimidate you, but in that moment, the heat of the argument and your exhaustion pushed you to stand your ground.

“Look, princess, if you’ve got a magic plan to get us out of here, go ahead. Enlighten me with your wisdom” Rafe said with an exaggerated gesture, as if ready to hear something brilliant.

You glared at him, feeling frustration build in your chest.

“You know what? I’m not going to argue with you. Being stuck here with you is bad enough without having to deal with your crap attitude.”

You turned and went back to the sofa, letting yourself fall onto it with an exasperated sigh. Rafe remained silent for a moment, probably surprised by your reaction. Finally, he ran a hand through his hair and sank into the chair by the fireplace.

“This is ridiculous” he muttered, more to himself than to you.

You stared into the fire, trying to calm yourself. The cabin, which had felt warm and inviting before, now seemed much smaller, as if the space was shrinking under the weight of the tension between you.

The silence stretched, broken only by the crackling of the firewood and the howling wind outside.

The quiet in the cabin was almost tangible, broken only by the crackle of the fire in the fireplace and the whisper of the wind rattling the windows. Both of you had fallen silent after your brief argument, each lost in your own thoughts. But you knew you couldn’t keep going like this; being trapped in the middle of a snowstorm was uncomfortable enough without adding the tension of your constant bickering.

You took a deep breath, letting the warmth of the fire soothe your frustration before speaking.

“Look, Rafe” you began, turning toward him. He was sitting across from you in the wooden chair, his head slightly tilted toward the fire as if studying it. His eyes flicked to you, glowing in the firelight, but he said nothing, waiting for you to continue.

“I don’t know how long we’re going to be here” you said in a calmer tone. “Maybe until tomorrow, maybe longer. But what I do know is that we can’t keep this up.”

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his expression a mix of interest and skepticism.

“Keep what up?”

You sighed, leaning your elbows on your knees as you looked directly at him.

“Fighting over everything, throwing sarcastic comments at each other every five minutes. We’re stuck here, alone, with a snowstorm outside. If we don’t make an effort to get along, this is going to be unbearable.”

He let out a small laugh, though it didn’t seem mocking almost reflective.

“Getting along? You and me? Is that even possible?”

“It will be if we both try” you replied firmly. “And if you stop being so...”

“So what?” he interrupted, leaning forward with a lopsided smile that both annoyed and challenged you at the same time.

“So you” you said, crossing your arms.

He leaned back in his chair, letting out a soft chuckle.

“Fine, I deserve that.”

That took you by surprise. You hadn't expected Rafe to admit something like that so easily. You decided to take advantage of the moment.

“Then let's make a deal” you proposed, keeping your gaze fixed on him.

“A deal?” he repeated, tilting his head with curiosity.

“Yes, a deal” you reiterated. “While we're stuck here, we set our differences aside. No fights, no unnecessary sarcasm, no acting like kids.”

“That last part is directed at you, isn't it?” he teased, but his tone was lighter this time.

“At both of us” you said, rolling your eyes. “What I mean is, let's try to be... I don't know, civil. At least until someone comes to find us.”

Rafe looked at you silently for a moment, his blue eyes studying your face as if trying to read your intentions. Finally, he nodded slowly.

“Alright, deal.”

You extended your hand toward him, hoping to seal the agreement symbolically. Rafe glanced at your hand and, for a second, seemed to hesitate. But then he leaned forward and shook it with his own.

“Although” he added as he released your hand “I can’t promise not to be a little... me. It’s part of the charm, you know?”

“Sure, the charm” you muttered sarcastically, though there was a hint of a smile on your lips.

He leaned back in his chair again, relaxing a little more.

“Alright then, where do we start with this attempt to get along? Got any brilliant ideas, or are we just going to sit here in silence watching the ice melt off our boots?”

You looked at him, crossing your arms in a thoughtful gesture.

“We could start by not insulting each other every time we open our mouths.”

Rafe nodded slowly, as if considering your words with more seriousness than you expected.

“Fair enough.”

For the first time since entering the cabin, the atmosphere felt a little less tense. Despite how irritating Rafe could be, there was something almost amusing about the idea of trying to cooperate with him, even if you knew it wouldn’t be easy.

“Well, let’s see how long our deal lasts” you said finally, settling onto the sofa and gazing at the fire.

“That depends on you, princess” he replied with his typical smug smile, but this time, instead of annoying you, you just shook your head and chuckled softly.

Maybe, just maybe, you’d survive this storm together without going insane.

Night fell quickly, darkening the white landscape surrounding the cabin. The wind continued to lash at the windows, but the warmth of the fireplace created a cozy contrast inside the shelter. Both of you knew you needed to eat something, but neither seemed willing to take the initiative.

Finally, you broke the silence as you looked toward the small makeshift kitchen in the corner.

“Do you know how to cook?” you asked, crossing your arms as you looked at him with a mix of curiosity and challenge.

Rafe, sitting in one of the wooden chairs by the fire, glanced up at you with a teasing smile.

“Would it surprise you if I said yes? I learned after we ended things.”

“Interesting” you admitted, raising an eyebrow.

He stood up from the chair with an exaggerated display of confidence.

“Well, get ready for the best feast this cabin has ever seen.”

You followed him to the kitchen, skeptical. Together, you started rummaging through the shelves and the small pantry, which held only a few supplies: a package of pasta, a couple of cans of soup, some stale bread, and a bottle of olive oil.

"I’m not sure if this counts as a feast, but you can give it a try” you said, leaning on the counter as you watched Rafe examine the ingredients.

“Trust me, princess” he replied with a wink. “I’m about to turn this into culinary art.”

You just rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help but smile a little. Rafe got to work with an energy that seemed almost too much for the humble menu available.

“Can you pass me that pot?” he asked, pointing at an old saucepan on a high shelf.

“What happened to "please"?” you retorted, but you grabbed it and handed it to him anyway.

“Thank you, Your Highness.”

He started boiling water for the pasta while you checked what was left in the cupboards. You found a small jar of spices and a can of crushed tomatoes.

“What about this?” you asked, showing them to him.

Rafe looked at them with an expression that tried to be serious.

“Perfect. Let’s call this... frozen cabin pasta.”

You couldn’t help but laugh, though you tried to hide it.

As you worked together, there were several awkward but almost amusing moments. When you tried to open the can of tomatoes, the can opener got stuck, and in your attempt to fix it, you ended up splashing yourself with some sauce.

“Impressive” Rafe commented, trying not to laugh too loudly as you shot him a glare.

“If you laugh, you’re cooking alone.”

“I’m already cooking alone.”

“I’m helping!” you replied, exasperated, as you wiped the sauce off your shirt.

“Sure, helping is splashing sauce everywhere” he teased.

Despite the sarcasm, you started noticing that the atmosphere between you was becoming a little more relaxed.

Eventually, you managed to put together something resembling a pasta dish with improvised sauce. You served it on the only two plates you could find in the cabin and sat down at the rustic table by the fire.

“Well, it’s not a feast, but it could be worse” you commented as you tried the first bite.

Rafe watched you closely, as if waiting for your verdict.

“Well?” he asked, leaning in slightly.

“Not bad... for someone like you”

you said, feigning a casual tone.

“Someone like me” he repeated, smiling. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

You both ate in a silence that, surprisingly, didn’t feel awkward.

When you were done, Rafe got up to wash the dishes.

“What are you doing?” you asked, surprised.

“Washing the dishes. Or is that too noble for me?”

“I definitely didn’t picture you doing that” you admitted, smiling slightly.

“Well, I’m a man full of surprises.”

As you watched him work, you realized that, for the first time since the storm started, you didn’t feel as tense. Rafe seemed less arrogant, almost... human.

You leaned back in the chair, watching the storm continue to rage outside.

“Maybe this isn’t so terrible after all” you murmured, more to yourself than to him.

“What did you say?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

“Nothing” you replied quickly, looking away.

While the storm kept roaring outside, covering the world in a seemingly endless blanket of snow, the warmth of the fireplace remained comforting. But the cabin was still small and a bit cold, so you both knew you’d need more blankets to get through the night.

“Do you know where the blankets are?” you asked, as you checked one of the shelves near the fireplace, trying to find a cabinet or a place where they might be stored.

Rafe was nearby, looking at the makeshift beds, but he didn’t seem to find anything.

“I don’t know, maybe over there” he said, pointing toward the back of the cabin, where there was a door that looked like a small closet.

The two of you headed over without saying much. The space between you was small, but the atmosphere was different, as if something was hanging in the air a soft yet palpable tension that neither of you wanted to acknowledge. As you brushed past him, your shoulders accidentally touched, and a shiver ran through your body a small contact that, despite being insignificant, left a strange feeling behind. It was as if the air between you had become charged with electricity.

You both stopped almost simultaneously, staring ahead, avoiding eye contact.

“Sorry” Rafe said, his tone softer than usual, though there was no need to apologize.

“It’s fine” you replied, not looking at him, but with the feeling that something had shifted between you. The tension, though slight, seemed to linger, more present than before.

The two of you kept searching for the blankets, but every little movement felt strange. As you reached up to grab a blanket from the highest shelf, your fingers brushed against his for a second, and that spark that had been ignited didn’t fade it intensified. This time, neither of you said anything, but the air felt thicker, warmer, even with the storm raging outside.

Rafe was the first to pull away, handing you a blanket with a gesture rougher than he likely intended, and you began to wonder if it was all just a coincidence. But as you glanced at him briefly, you caught him looking away, as if he, too, was wrestling with the same feeling.

And as the storm continued its relentless howling, the two of you stood there, a little closer than before, the tension between you undeniable.

“Thanks for… the blanket,” you said suddenly, breaking the silence, and you realized that your voice had come out a little quieter than it normally would have been.

“You’re welcome,” Rafe replied in a tone that sounded almost sincere, although his face was still hidden in the shadows of the cabin.

A small sigh escaped your lips before you could stop it, and, upon hearing it, Rafe looked at you for a moment, but didn’t say anything. It seemed as if you were both caught in the same confusion, but not knowing how to continue.

The atmosphere was still electric, but neither of you openly acknowledged it. However, there was something different in the way you looked at each other. The space between you was not as full of hostile tensions as before, but something more subtle, more ambiguous, something that neither you nor he could define.

Finally, you both settled down on the floor, leaving the blankets over your bodies to try to get some warmth. No one else spoke, but the proximity was new and felt uncomfortable in an almost pleasurable way. Every time their arms or legs accidentally touched, a prickling sensation in the air seemed to follow them, without them being able to really ignore it.

The silence that followed was so thick that even the crackling of the fire seemed softer. They were both trying to rest, but they knew that the storm outside was not the only thing that kept the cabin in a state of restlessness.

The next day came with the same monotony of the storm that did not seem to let up. The snow continued to fall, covering the landscape with a thick, white layer that made everything even more isolated. The cabin, although cozy in its warmth, was still small, and they both knew that being trapped there with no company but each other was not the ideal situation.

The sun barely filtered through the small windows, making the light dim, almost gloomy. They both tried to distract themselves with simple activities: you walked over to the fireplace to add some more firewood, while he looked out the window, watching the wind push the snow into spirals. No one else had passed by all morning, and the radio, although tuned to different frequencies, brought nothing but static. The heavy silence between them was a constant, interrupted only by the sound of the wind outside or the crackling of wood under the flame in the fireplace.

At first, they tried to call each other on the phone, but the signal was nonexistent. Communication with their families was scarce, and the answer they both received from their respective homes was the same: "We're busy, we'll send help when possible, but we don't know when." That promise would take hours, even days, and frustration slowly grew within the two of them. Without a clear plan and with time at a standstill, all they could do was wait.

The first part of the morning was awkward. They both tried to find tasks that would keep them busy without having to confront each other too much. You sat in the corner reading one of the few books the cabin had, while Rafe checked the electronic devices once more, as if the batteries in his phone could magically fill the void between you. Every time your gazes met, something in the air tensed, and you both quickly looked away, as if you weren’t ready to acknowledge what had changed in the atmosphere between you.

As the day progressed, the atmosphere became slightly less charged. The need for coexistence made them both begin to share the space more naturally, although there was still an invisible barrier that neither of them wanted to completely break down. Lunchtime came without many options, but they tried to make the best of what they had. Together they prepared something simple, a warm soup from a can, and although neither of them felt too much like eating, they both knew they didn't have many alternatives. They ate in silence, sitting near the fireplace, the sound of the ladle against the can and the soft crackle of the fire creating an atmosphere of uncomfortable intimacy.

After lunch, they decided to try to explore the cabin to see if they could find some way to make the wait more bearable. But every corner, every nook and cranny of the place, seemed to be saturated with the feeling that nothing more was going to happen. Time continued to move with an almost unbearable slowness, but the storm remained the same, with no sign that anyone might come to rescue them soon.

Rafe began to move in a more restless manner, pacing back and forth, while you stood still, watching the tension build up in his shoulders. Sometimes he would stop to look out the window, as if he could make the wind and snow stop with a single thought. However, reality was relentless. Neither of you could do anything to change the situation, and that became an unspoken truth that hung in the air. At some point, you both decided to go out onto the small, snow-covered terrace, hoping that the cold air would clear your minds a little. You covered yourself with a coat, and Rafe, although more reluctant, followed you outside.

The snow fell relentlessly, enveloping the world in a blanket of silence and whiteness. The landscape seemed deserted, without footprints, without a trace of life. You stood at the door, watching the storm form patterns of mist in the air, while he leaned on the door frame, looking out at the horizon. Neither of them said anything, but the fact that they were outside, in the storm, with the pressure of the situation, made them feel that at least they were sharing something at that moment.

The rest of the day passed in a back and forth of small efforts to ignore each other and, at the same time, pass the time in the best way possible. At one point, Rafe suggested playing a game, as if they could at least transform the tense calm into something more bearable. They found a deck of cards on a nearby table and sat down to play, their fingers sliding clumsily across the cards, while the sound of the wind slid around the walls. Amidst the jokes and attempts at sarcasm, time began to flow in a more natural way, although there was still that strange spark in the air that they both tried to avoid.

The afternoon faded and night fell quickly again, covering them in an almost complete stillness.

The night had fallen with the same heavy calm as always, but this time, the silence was not so unbearable. As the storm raged on and the hours seemed to drag on endlessly, the cabin was safe in its warm shelter. They decided, after a while, to look for something to do, something that could break the routine and relieve the tension that had been hanging between them all day.

It was Rafe who finally opened an old cupboard in the corner of the living room, and with a slight grunt of disapproval, pulled out a dusty box. Opening it, they found an old board game, with worn wooden pieces and a board that was already showing signs of use. It was one of those classic games, the kind one finds in forgotten country houses, but at that moment, it seemed like a lifeline to both of them.

With a slight smile that barely managed to hide his surprise, Rafe offered the pieces to you, suggesting that you play. The game, though simple, was the beginning of a change in the atmosphere that neither of you expected. The rules didn't matter too much; what really mattered was the space the game took up in the room, and the way that, with each joke and each move, the two of you began to relax, even if only a little.

The first few rounds were clumsy and full of sarcasm. You both sat in front of the board, moving the pieces more roughly than necessary, and joking about how, apparently, neither of you were an expert at that type of game. However, as the game progressed, the jokes became more natural, and the laughs began to come out without either of you meaning to. Rafe even began to let out a few genuine smiles, something that would have been rare to see before.

At one point, during a silly turn where a piece almost fell out, you both burst out laughing, unable to contain yourself. It was a liberating laugh, as if the weight of the day and the situation had lifted a little, if only for an instant. There was something in the way you both looked at each other, as if, for the first time since you were trapped in that place, you felt a little more human, less disconnected.

The night went on, and the laughter continued. It was then that, checking the fireplace again, you realized that it had gone out a little. You tried to adjust the wood, but, as expected, you couldn't manage it alone. Rafe, who had been watching with a mocking look, stood up without saying much and came over to help you.

"Do you need help or would you rather make another mess?" he asked in a sarcastic tone, but without malice.

Without saying a word, you accepted his offer and together you tried to rekindle the fire. You both crouched down near the fireplace, moving the branches and wood with a little more urgency, and as you did, a small burst of ash flew towards you. You both let out a startled cry, and before you knew it, Rafe was covered in ash on his face, while you, equally surprised, also had a light layer of grey dust on your hair and shoulders.

At first, the moment was a chaos of nervous laughter and narrowed gazes, and the tense air was finally broken. The two of you looked at each other for a second, completely covered in dust, and the scene, in its clumsiness and unexpectedness, provoked more laughter. Rafe tried to brush the ash off his face, but only managed to spread it further.

“This is a mess,” he said between laughs, while shaking his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, you don’t look so bad anyway,” you replied between guffaws, trying to brush the ash out of your hair.

The situation was absurd, but for some reason, it was perfect. The sense of bewilderment and tension that had defined the whole situation from the beginning had vanished, and what remained was something lighter, a sort of awkward but sincere camaraderie. They both sat down again near the fireplace, much more relaxed now, and continued playing, with no one talking too much about what had just happened.

The mood in the cabin was changed. The laughter they had shared a few moments before, the accidental brush of hands while playing, all of that had created a different atmosphere between the two of them. The spark that had been left in the air, that unconfessed tension, had become something palpable, almost unbearable. They both knew it, although neither of them was willing to admit it. Silence filled the room again, but it was no longer awkward. It was a silence that vibrated with something else, something nameless.

They were sitting near the fireplace, the flames crackling softly, while shadows played on the walls of the cabin. Rafe was staring into the flames, his fingers drumming against the table, his breathing a little heavier than usual. You, on the other hand, couldn’t help but feel like there was something different about him, something that made you not want to look away. But, at the same time, you couldn’t allow yourself to give in to it. Not after everything that had happened between you.

Suddenly, without warning, Rafe leaned forward. The movement was so gentle and so sudden that you didn’t even have time to react. Before you could process it, his lips found yours, with a gentle but determined pressure. The kiss was unexpected, a clash of sensations that left you breathless for a second. It was something neither of you had planned, but at that moment, it seemed inevitable. The warmth of his mouth mixed with the coldness of the air around you, creating a tension in the air that enveloped you.

The kiss wasn’t tender or delicate. It was intense, full of everything that hadn't been said, everything that had been floating between the two of you since you met in the storm. It was like that kiss was trying to express everything that neither of you dared to say out loud. But, at some point, everything stopped. Time seemed to stand still, and in that instant, what had once been a mix of confusion and desire became something much clearer. You couldn't let things happen again. Not again.

Suddenly, a knot in your stomach made you pull away from him abruptly. The distance between you both became instantaneous, as if simply moving away from him could dispel what had just happened. You stood there, breathing heavily, looking at Rafe, who hadn't moved, but whose eyes reflected something you hadn't seen before: vulnerability, surprise, perhaps some regret.

You didn't know what to say, but the feeling in your chest was clear. You couldn't let things go back to the way they were. Not after everything you’d been through with him, everything that had happened before, when unspoken words had left scars. You couldn’t let that history repeat itself, couldn’t risk everything you’d learned to protect crumbling again.

“I don’t want to go through what I went through with you again,” you finally said, your voice shaking a little. The words came out stronger than you’d anticipated, and you were surprised that you could say them so clearly.

Rafe didn’t answer right away. His eyes didn’t leave yours, but there was something about his expression that unnerved you. You could see the conflict in his gaze, the internal struggle he was having, but it didn’t matter. You had been clear. You had stepped away, you had put up a barrier, and you weren’t willing to take a step back.

Silence fell between you again, heavier this time, denser. The fire in the fireplace continued to crackle, but the warmth of the room wasn’t enough to melt the cold distance that now separated you. Rafe finally moved, but only to get up and walk away to the window, looking outside as if that could give him the answers he couldn’t find in you.

The air in the cabin was still heavy with the tension of the unsaid, with the emotions neither of you wanted to face. But in that moment, you knew you had made the right decision, even if your heart was pounding and you felt empty inside. You didn’t want any more of that confusion, of those moments of desire and regret. Not again. And, although you couldn't predict what would happen next, you knew that the barrier you had put up was the only thing that could protect you.

The following days were a mix of awkwardness and uncomfortable silence. Although the snowstorm continued to lash against the cabin's windows, the weather inside was colder than ever. Even though circumstances kept them together, conversations became short, almost forced. The night of the kiss continued to weigh on both of them, like an invisible cloud, and although neither of them mentioned it, the tension was palpable in every small gesture.

They had breakfast together, but the conversation never went beyond what was strictly necessary. During the day, they tried to distract themselves, looking for some way to pass the time, but there was always something in the air that kept them at a distance. Sometimes, one of them would make a casual comment, but what had once been a simple chat now became uncomfortable. The simple act of looking at each other felt like a challenge, as if there was something invisible separating them.

Frustration began to build, and though neither of them would admit it, they both knew there was something they couldn't ignore any longer. The tension was building, like a taut thread about to snap.

It was on one of those afternoons, as they both tried to find something else to do in the cabin, when the bomb went off. They were looking through the few books the cabin had, looking for something to read, when Rafe, with his characteristic dismissive attitude, made a comment.

"You know, I don't understand why you can't just relax and enjoy this. It's like you're expecting everything to be awkward, like..." he paused, looking away, and then, with a sarcastic smile, added, "like you're expecting everything to be a romantic comedy or something."

The comment was the straw that broke the camel's back. There was something in his tone, something in the way he made fun of the situation, that made you lose patience. You couldn't let it go any longer. At that moment, everything you had been holding in, everything you had been trying to ignore, came to the surface.

“You know what? It’s not about that, Rafe,” you replied, your voice tense but determined. “It’s not about me wanting everything to be perfect, it’s about me not being able to stand you trying to make everything harder than it already is.”

The argument quickly began to escalate. The atmosphere in the room became charged with unspoken words, with pent-up resentments. You both knew there was something more, that what was between you was not just the awkwardness of the moment, but something much deeper, something neither of you dared to face.

Rafe, for his part, was not far behind. His face hardened, and suddenly, his mocking tone faded, giving way to a suppressed fury.

“Oh, no? So what do you expect from me? To apologize for everything I’ve done? To tell you that all of this hasn’t affected me too? Because it hasn’t, do you understand?” His voice became rougher, and for a second, the arrogant Rafe that everyone knew disappeared, revealing someone more vulnerable, someone who was also struggling with his own demons.

The impact of his words left you silent for a moment. It was the first time you saw Rafe so... human. That facade of a self-assured boy, of a boy who controls everything, was crumbling, and it was doing so in front of you.

But it wasn't just that. You felt the same too. You couldn't keep hiding what you felt, you couldn't keep pretending that everything was okay when it wasn't. The frustration of the previous days, the tension that had been left hanging in the air, was now almost unbearable.

“I don't understand it, Rafe” you finally answered. “All of this, this situation, you... you've never given me a reason to think that things could be different. Everything that's happened between us has been... a mix of misunderstandings, of things left unsaid. And I'm confused too, I don't know what to expect from you, or from myself.”

For a moment, both stayed silent. The noises from outside the wind hitting the windows and the snowstorm were the only things that could be heard in the cabin, while the weight of the words hung in the air.

Rafe looked down, his hands shaking slightly, not from the cold, but from something deeper. He was fighting with himself, with the part of him that he had never shown to anyone, that part that he feared, that felt vulnerable. After what seemed like an eternity, finally, his words came out.

"I never wanted things between us to be like this," he said in a low, but sincere voice. "I don't know how to handle it, I don't know how... how to deal with this. I've always been... well, I've always closed myself off, and I don't know how to make things different. But it scares me." I’m scared of what I feel, scared that this will all end badly, like it always does. I don’t know if I’m ready for that.

You were surprised to hear Rafe speak with such vulnerability. The boy who was always so sure of himself, so unflappable, now looked so… fragile. And, for a moment, something inside you changed. The wall you had put up, the one you had built to protect yourself, slowly crumbled.

“I’m scared too,” you admitted, feeling the words slipping from your lips, unable to stop them. “I’m scared that this is nothing more than a mistake, that we’ll end up hurting each other. But I’m also scared that if we keep acting like everything is okay, we’ll miss something that could be different. And I don’t want to live with that doubt.”

The air between the two of you changed, it became heavier, but also more real. For the first time, the two of you looked at each other without the barriers of indifference, without the defenses you had kept between you. At that moment, you both knew there were no easy answers, that what you felt was complicated, confusing, and terrifying. But what had just happened, what you had just shared, was the first step toward something more, something neither of you could control.

The tension that had defined the previous days was no longer as present, replaced by a shared vulnerability that connected you in an unexpected way. Though there were no words, there was something much deeper in your gazes, a silent understanding.

Rafe took a step toward you, his eyes still filled with that internal struggle he had just revealed. There was no more sarcasm, no more games. There was just him, without the layers of arrogance that used to define him. He was genuinely there, in that moment, and you couldn’t stand the distance between you, not when you felt so clearly what was between you.

With an almost imperceptible gesture, he took your hands, his fingers cold but soft to the touch. And before you could say anything, he moved closer. On his face, uncertainty was present, but there was also something else: a shared need, a force that was driving him towards you. And when his face leaned towards yours, it wasn't the rushed kiss from before. It was slower, more cautious, as if both of you were measuring every second, every inch.

The contact of your lips was soft at first, a touch that almost felt like a sigh. But that soon changed, as if the fear and doubts from before faded away, replaced by an overwhelming sense of desire and mutual need. Both of you let yourself be carried away by the emotion, by the intensity of what you had just shared. There was no room for anything but that connection.

When the kiss ended, both of you took a deep breath, almost as if you were waking from a dream. But the emotions didn't fade. On the contrary, they intensified. Rafe looked into your eyes, as if searching for something in your expression, something that would give him the answer he already knew, even if he didn't say it. And you felt the same: a mix of nervousness, confusion, but also a certainty. Something had changed between you, and there was no turning back.

Without saying a word, you came closer again, and this time the kiss was deeper, more urgent. The need to be close, to feel complete with each other, was too strong to resist. Rafe's hands began to explore your back, pulling you closer, while you hugged him too, losing yourself in the feeling of his body next to yours.

In the blink of an eye, everything fell apart. The barriers you both had put up fell like sand castles, and you found yourselves in the bed in the cabin, both with your hearts beating hard, your breath shortened by the emotion of the moment.

The cold of the storm outside didn't matter anymore. Inside the cabin, the heat between you grew more and more intense. Every touch, every caress, was an act of shared vulnerability, of desire that had been hidden beneath the surface for so long. And as their bodies met in a slow, emotionally charged dance, the confusion of the previous days faded away completely, leaving them with only what they truly wanted from each other: to be together, without fear, without reservation.

The first contact was timid, as if both were afraid that it would break something, destroy that fragile connection they had just discovered. But soon, the need grew stronger, and the movements became more confident, more intense. Rafe looked at you with eyes filled with something more than desire. There was something deep in his gaze, something that told you that it was not just desire that was driving him, but something deeper. And you, without being able to help it, reciprocated in the same way, with your heart racing, but without the same doubt.

Time seemed to stop. The reasons or the words that were left hanging in the air no longer mattered. The fear was gone, and in its place, there was only the presence of each other, in that bed, in that cabin, surrounded by the storm, but more connected than ever.

The hours passed without the two of them realizing it. The outside world ceased to exist, and only the warmth of the cabin remained, the accelerated beating of their hearts, and the feeling that what they had just shared was not only a physical need, but also an emotional one. The vulnerability they had shown each other, the words they had said and those they had not, were now present in every touch, in every look.

Finally, exhausted but closer than ever, they stayed together, side by side, the silence enveloping them, but without the heaviness that had been there before. The cold no longer mattered. Only the warmth they shared mattered, the space between them that, although charged with complicated emotions, now seemed to be the safest place for both of them.

As you both lay in bed, snuggled under the blankets, the air in the cabin seemed to have calmed down. The storm outside was still raging, but inside, the warmth shared between you was all that mattered. The sound of the rain against the windows and the wind howling outside failed to penetrate the small shelter that had witnessed so many changes between the two of you.

The silence was comfortable, but also fraught with slight awkwardness. Despite what had happened, despite the intensity of the moments before, it was still uncharted territory for both of you. Words didn’t seem enough to describe what you felt, and vulnerability was still hovering between you, never quite fading away.

Rafe was lying on his side, staring up at the ceiling, eyes half-closed and a small sigh escaping his lips. He didn’t say anything, but there was a palpable tension in his posture, as if he was waiting for the next step to come in some way he couldn’t control. Meanwhile, you couldn’t help but feel a strange mix of emotions. Everything that had happened seemed unreal, but the truth was that the two of them were there, and that changed everything.

Finally, you decided to break the silence. Glancing at him out of the corner of your eye, you said something, not quite sure how it would be received.

“I think this is the strangest thing that’s happened to me in a long time,” you said in a soft tone, almost as if you expected him to respond with one of his sarcastic jokes, the usual way he had always handled things between you.

Rafe, without taking his eyes off the ceiling, let out a small laugh, but it wasn’t his usual mocking laugh. This time it was a lower laugh, as if he was acknowledging something he couldn’t ignore. However, the next thing he said was unmistakably sarcastic, one of his classic responses.

“¡Help me, I’m feeling! It’s a lot for me,” he said, his voice heavy with irony, but there was a glint in his eyes that made it sound more like a way to try and lighten the mood rather than a taunt.

Immediately, you couldn’t help it. You laughed, not at him, but with him, because you knew that even though he was trying to hide his own fears and doubts with sarcasm, you decided to act instead.

With a goofy grin on your face, you launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around him, hugging him tightly. The laughter that came from your chest was warm and genuine, without the barriers that would normally have stopped you.

“Merry Christmas, Rafe,” you said, as you clung to him, the words escaping as if they were an unexpected gift, the first of many.

Rafe tensed for a second, surprised by your gesture, but before he could react the way he normally would, you moved closer, feeling the closeness of his body, the warmth that enveloped you. His expression went from surprise to bewilderment, and in that instant, without thinking too much, you leaned towards him. A soft and quick kiss, but full of meaning, slid between you. It was not an impulsive or hasty kiss, but something tender, a way of responding to what you both felt, without the need for words.

The contact of your lips against his paralyzed him for a moment, and when you separated, you stared at him. You were both breathing heavily, but this time it was not because of the tension. It was because of something much deeper, because of a shared feeling that neither of you had expected, but that was growing between you.

Rafe, for a second, didn't say anything. He was looking into your eyes, as if he were evaluating what had just happened. The softness of that kiss had broken some of the walls you had both tried so hard to put up for so long, but there was still confusion in his gaze.

“You have a way of making everything complicated, you know that?” he finally said, his voice a little lower than usual, but without the sarcasm he usually used to protect himself.

You pulled back a little, shrugging and smiling again.

“You’re an expert at making everything more complicated too,” you replied, but this time there was no harshness in your words, just an acceptance of what was happening between the two of you.

Rafe just stared at you for a moment, before letting out a sigh, his chest slowly rising and falling. And even though he didn’t say anything else, there was something in his gaze that told you he felt the same way too, though maybe he wasn’t ready to fully admit it.

The atmosphere between the two of you had changed once again. Now, without the weight of sarcasm and tension from before, there was something else. A bit awkward, yes, but also deeply human. You leaned against his chest, feeling the rhythm of his breathing, and for a second, everything seemed to make sense, as if the missing pieces of the puzzle of this strange relationship were finally starting to fit together.

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mostlysignssomeportents · 1 year ago

Text

Three AI insights for hard-charging, future-oriented smartypantses

MERE HOURS REMAIN for the Kickstarter for the audiobook for The Bezzle, the sequel to Red Team Blues, narrated by @wilwheaton! You can pre-order the audiobook and ebook, DRM free, as well as the hardcover, signed or unsigned. There’s also bundles with Red Team Blues in ebook, audio or paperback.

Living in the age of AI hype makes demands on all of us to come up with smartypants prognostications about how AI is about to change everything forever, and wow, it's pretty amazing, huh?

AI pitchmen don't make it easy. They like to pile on the cognitive dissonance and demand that we all somehow resolve it. This is a thing cult leaders do, too – tell blatant and obvious lies to their followers. When a cult follower repeats the lie to others, they are demonstrating their loyalty, both to the leader and to themselves.

Over and over, the claims of AI pitchmen turn out to be blatant lies. This has been the case since at least the age of the Mechanical Turk, the 18th chess-playing automaton that was actually just a chess player crammed into the base of an elaborate puppet that was exhibited as an autonomous, intelligent robot.

The most prominent Mechanical Turk huckster is Elon Musk, who habitually, blatantly and repeatedly lies about AI. He's been promising "full self driving" Telsas in "one to two years" for more than a decade. Periodically, he'll "demonstrate" a car that's in full-self driving mode – which then turns out to be canned, recorded demo:

https://www.reuters.com/technology/tesla-video-promoting-self-driving-was-staged-engineer-testifies-2023-01-17/

Musk even trotted an autonomous, humanoid robot on-stage at an investor presentation, failing to mention that this mechanical marvel was just a person in a robot suit:

https://www.siliconrepublic.com/machines/elon-musk-tesla-robot-optimus-ai

Now, Musk has announced that his junk-science neural interface company, Neuralink, has made the leap to implanting neural interface chips in a human brain. As Joan Westenberg writes, the press have repeated this claim as presumptively true, despite its wild implausibility:

https://joanwestenberg.com/blog/elon-musk-lies

Neuralink, after all, is a company notorious for mutilating primates in pursuit of showy, meaningless demos:

https://www.wired.com/story/elon-musk-pcrm-neuralink-monkey-deaths/

I'm perfectly willing to believe that Musk would risk someone else's life to help him with this nonsense, because he doesn't see other people as real and deserving of compassion or empathy. But he's also profoundly lazy and is accustomed to a world that unquestioningly swallows his most outlandish pronouncements, so Occam's Razor dictates that the most likely explanation here is that he just made it up.

The odds that there's a human being beta-testing Musk's neural interface with the only brain they will ever have aren't zero. But I give it the same odds as the Raelians' claim to have cloned a human being:

https://edition.cnn.com/2003/ALLPOLITICS/01/03/cf.opinion.rael/

The human-in-a-robot-suit gambit is everywhere in AI hype. Cruise, GM's disgraced "robot taxi" company, had 1.5 remote operators for every one of the cars on the road. They used AI to replace a single, low-waged driver with 1.5 high-waged, specialized technicians. Truly, it was a marvel.

Globalization is key to maintaining the guy-in-a-robot-suit phenomenon. Globalization gives AI pitchmen access to millions of low-waged workers who can pretend to be software programs, allowing us to pretend to have transcended the capitalism's exploitation trap. This is also a very old pattern – just a couple decades after the Mechanical Turk toured Europe, Thomas Jefferson returned from the continent with the dumbwaiter. Jefferson refined and installed these marvels, announcing to his dinner guests that they allowed him to replace his "servants" (that is, his slaves). Dumbwaiters don't replace slaves, of course – they just keep them out of sight:

https://www.stuartmcmillen.com/blog/behind-the-dumbwaiter/

So much AI turns out to be low-waged people in a call center in the Global South pretending to be robots that Indian techies have a joke about it: "AI stands for 'absent Indian'":

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/29/pay-no-attention/#to-the-little-man-behind-the-curtain

A reader wrote to me this week. They're a multi-decade veteran of Amazon who had a fascinating tale about the launch of Amazon Go, the "fully automated" Amazon retail outlets that let you wander around, pick up goods and walk out again, while AI-enabled cameras totted up the goods in your basket and charged your card for them.

According to this reader, the AI cameras didn't work any better than Tesla's full-self driving mode, and had to be backstopped by a minimum of three camera operators in an Indian call center, "so that there could be a quorum system for deciding on a customer's activity – three autopilots good, two autopilots bad."

Amazon got a ton of press from the launch of the Amazon Go stores. A lot of it was very favorable, of course: Mister Market is insatiably horny for firing human beings and replacing them with robots, so any announcement that you've got a human-replacing robot is a surefire way to make Line Go Up. But there was also plenty of critical press about this – pieces that took Amazon to task for replacing human beings with robots.

What was missing from the criticism? Articles that said that Amazon was probably lying about its robots, that it had replaced low-waged clerks in the USA with even-lower-waged camera-jockeys in India.

Which is a shame, because that criticism would have hit Amazon where it hurts, right there in the ole Line Go Up. Amazon's stock price boost off the back of the Amazon Go announcements represented the market's bet that Amazon would evert out of cyberspace and fill all of our physical retail corridors with monopolistic robot stores, moated with IP that prevented other retailers from similarly slashing their wage bills. That unbridgeable moat would guarantee Amazon generations of monopoly rents, which it would share with any shareholders who piled into the stock at that moment.

See the difference? Criticize Amazon for its devastatingly effective automation and you help Amazon sell stock to suckers, which makes Amazon executives richer. Criticize Amazon for lying about its automation, and you clobber the personal net worth of the executives who spun up this lie, because their portfolios are full of Amazon stock:

https://sts-news.medium.com/youre-doing-it-wrong-notes-on-criticism-and-technology-hype-18b08b4307e5

Amazon Go didn't go. The hundreds of Amazon Go stores we were promised never materialized. There's an embarrassing rump of 25 of these things still around, which will doubtless be quietly shuttered in the years to come. But Amazon Go wasn't a failure. It allowed its architects to pocket massive capital gains on the way to building generational wealth and establishing a new permanent aristocracy of habitual bullshitters dressed up as high-tech wizards.

"Wizard" is the right word for it. The high-tech sector pretends to be science fiction, but it's usually fantasy. For a generation, America's largest tech firms peddled the dream of imminently establishing colonies on distant worlds or even traveling to other solar systems, something that is still so far in our future that it might well never come to pass:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/09/astrobezzle/#send-robots-instead

During the Space Age, we got the same kind of performative bullshit. On The Well David Gans mentioned hearing a promo on SiriusXM for a radio show with "the first AI co-host." To this, Craig L Maudlin replied, "Reminds me of fins on automobiles."

Yup, that's exactly it. An AI radio co-host is to artificial intelligence as a Cadillac Eldorado Biaritz tail-fin is to interstellar rocketry.

Back the Kickstarter for the audiobook of The Bezzle here!

If you’d like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here’s a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/01/31/neural-interface-beta-tester/#tailfins

#pluralistic #elon musk #neuralink #potemkin ai #neural interface beta-tester #full self driving #mechanical turks #ai #amazon #amazon go #clm #joan westenberg

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little-pondhead · 1 year ago

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Consider (because it's funny):

Ghosts can fuck with technology due to ectoplasmic interference, right? So any video and audio recordings of them come out sketchy and unreliable.

Halfas do the opposite.

Anytime they're caught on camera, the video looks like all the settings have been dialed up past max. The electronics take in so much information at once, and that's reflected in their results. Every video looks like a poorly edited, shit post from early Vine with bright flashing colors and high contrast. All the audio recordings pick up every single fucking sound in the nearby area, so people can't possibly even begin to sort out that creepy ghost voice they heard amidst the cat yowling, car engines, and children screaming from two streets over.

This is literally the only reason nobody believes Wes when he tries to prove Danny is Phantom.

Every piece of evidence he gathers looks like he shoved together random pictures, videos, and sounds from the internet that probably gave his computer the worst viruses known to man. And it's not like he's a tech forensic scientist! He can't sort through this shit to get to what he knows is groundbreaking proof. He's literally loosing his mind.

(And to make it worse, people are telling him he should take a computer course to learn some basic tech skills due to how god-awful these pictures and videos are.)

#danny phantom #pondhead blurbs #wes weston #danny fenton #wes is losing his mind cause people think he's shit at editing stuff #and making stuff up for attention #he's gone through three cameras this year and has to take meds for migraines from taking pictures of danny #but fuck it he WILL figure out how to get solid proof

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gallifreyanhotfive · 8 months ago

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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 69

One time while escaping from a cell, Romana commented that it would be child's play to unlock the door with her sonic screwdriver. She then said it was literally child's play as doing so had been a game back on Gallifrey. (Audio: Subterranea)

One of Jamie's distant relations became a spy during World War II and used the name "the Doctor." (Audio: Operation Werewolf)

On his report, Borusa gave Theta Sigma a 7 in the subject of "Physical Inactivity." He commented that his pupil seems to think he is a mountain goat. (Short story: Report on Term's Work)

Memory lanterns are Time Lord devices that resemble paper lanterns but record an individual's thoughts and memories. During the Time War, many Gallifreyans released these lanterns as a desperate ploy to not be forgotten, as they thought they would all die. (Novel: Engines of War)

Ben, Polly, and Jamie played with a ouija board on the TARDIS. This caused a dark cloud from the time vortex to slip inside Jamie's mind, affecting his behavior. The Second Doctor banished the cloud by reading a recipe for Bajaxx stew written in Ancient Gallifreyan. (Short story: Something at the Door)

Jarra To killed the previous overseer of the Axis. Eventually, a Time Lord came to investigate, but they killed them. By the time the Fifth Doctor and his companions landed there, they described the corpse as "rank" with oozing flesh and insect larvae. (Audio: The Axis of Insanity)

After leaving Nyssa, Tegan, and Marc behind, the Fifth Doctor had several adventures on his own. Eventually, he encountered his Eleventh self, and he decided to return to his companions because he didn't want to be like him - companionless and disparaged in 1892. (Audio: Thin Time)

Time Vortex leeches live in the time vortex, and the Doctor had thought they were a myth from Ancient Gallifreyan songs until one of them clung to his Eleventh self's TARDIS exterior. (Comic: Space in Dimension Relative and Time)

One time, a man called Gaylord Lefevre played a game of cards against the Toymaker. He cheated and used a needle to mark cards, but the Toymaker was aware of this and altered his cards to be a hand full of jokers when Gaylord wasn't looking. The Toymaker claimed he wasn't cheating but instead following a new rule that Gaylord had introduced - that cheating was acceptable. (Comic: The Greatest Gamble)

Gallifrey has a transtube, which is basically an underground train. It has a central station under the Capitol. (Novel: The Ancestor Cell)

One time after the Seventh Doctor was knocked out, he drowsily told Ace that he had had a terrible dream. A man with ringlets had been reaching out to him, saying, "Come in, Number Seven, your time is up." He was talking about the Eighth Doctor. (Audio: The Silurian Candidate)

Maria Mazzini once commented on how powerful the Fifth Doctor's thighs were - after slapping them. (Audio: Serpent in the Silver Mask)

One time, the Fourth Doctor decided to take Sarah Jane to Geshtinanna. The journey in the TARDIS took nine weeks, during which both became bored and tired. While traveling in the time vortex, the clocks in the TARDIS all stopped, and the Doctor then detected the remains of another TARDIS in the vortex, trapped their because the pilot had made the mistake of locking their course. They were worried that they too had fallen to the same fate and were unable to change course, but when the day of materialization finally came, they successfully materialized. The Doctor realized that the TARDIS had stopped all the clocks out of respect for her fallen fellow TARDIS. Even after nine weeks of travel, they materialized nowhere close to Geshtinanna. (Short story: Eternity)

The Seventh Doctor has shifted his genetic makeup enough to disguise himself before and mimic someone else. He admitted that he learned this trick from the Master, who frequently used regeneration as a disguise. (Novel: Original Sin)

On Gallifrey, there are two hundred and eight tenses in their languages. They don't translate well. (Novel: The Crystal Bucephalus)

First 1 Prev 68 Next 70

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audiotechacademy · 1 year ago

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Discovering Audio Engineering Courses in Agartala: Your Pathway to a Sound Career

Nestled in the scenic beauty of Northeast India, Agartala, the capital city of Tripura, is gaining prominence not only for its cultural richness and historical significance but also for its educational advancements. One field that is drawing considerable attention is audio engineering. This blog explores the realm of audio engineering courses in Agartala, highlighting the curriculum, career opportunities, and the unique benefits of studying in this vibrant city.

What is Audio Engineering?

Audio engineering, often interchangeably referred to as sound engineering, involves the technical and creative aspects of capturing, recording, manipulating, and reproducing sound. Audio engineers work across various sectors, including music production, film and television, radio, live sound events, and even gaming. They are the unsung heroes ensuring that what we hear, whether it’s a song, dialogue, or sound effect, is of the highest quality.

Why Study Audio Engineering in Agartala?

Educational Environment

Agartala provides a tranquil and focused learning environment. Unlike the hustle and bustle of major metropolitan areas, Agartala offers a peaceful setting that is ideal for intensive study and creativity. The city’s serene ambiance allows students to delve deeply into their courses without the usual distractions.

Cultural Exposure

Studying in Agartala provides a unique cultural experience. The rich musical traditions and diverse cultural heritage of Tripura can serve as an inspiration for audio engineering students. Exposure to traditional music and instruments can provide a broader perspective on sound and audio production, enhancing creativity and innovation.

Growing Educational Infrastructure

Agartala is becoming an educational hub in Northeast India. With the establishment of various educational institutions offering specialized courses, students have access to quality education and modern facilities.

#audio engineering #sound engineering courses #Audio Engineering in Aizawl #Audio Engineering course in Aizawl

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pikminlovers · 3 months ago

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Don't Tread On Me

a rough james hetfield oneshot

𖤐 a disgruntled james hetfield needs to blow off some steam after a sound mishap on stage. you, the newly promoted—slightly cocky engineer who caused the fuck up, were caught dead in your tracks.

𖤐

content(ﾒ﹏ﾒ)

dubcon...?☻︎ power play, slapping, public humiliation, blowjob, degradation, roughhousing, asshole james and again, ragdoll reader

enjoy:-)

╰─..★.────────────────╯

"What in the fuck was that?!"

An irate voice echos through the halls of the backstage area of the stadium. It was after the show. You knew exactly who that question was for, and the responsibility ripped through you like a machete. A few small mistakes you made as the prime audio engineer—

"Well, where the fuck is she?!"

—led to a livid James Hetfield. Sparing the details, these fuck-ups were definitely not gone unnoticed—by both the crowd, the band, and everyone, you just should've let someone else take over tonight.

The voice grew closer, and everyone around turned to you, knowing who was responsible. Your heartbeat picks up as you feel several pairs of eyes on you, and distant footsteps nearing. Though, you kept yourself together, shooting back a few glares to the company to protect your dignity, trying to remain tall as if you weren't being...for lack of better term, hunted down, at the moment by James Hetfield of Metallica. You loved this job and enjoyed your time working on the tour, and of course, enjoying your time with everyone on it. Though admittedly, you're pretty stubborn with almost everything that you do. Ever since you were promoted to the primary engineer, you've slightly let it get to your head, your coworkers growing more annoyed with you by the minute. You were all family, but like a cousin that needs to be addressed at the family reunion, you were becoming reckless. In your defense, the previous night of drinking and everything that came with it that you did with a handful of other crew and band, lasted until a little after daybreak, but it really caught up to you this time.

You know that you should have let someone else fill in for this show, just like you were wisely advised to, but nooooooo... you insisted everything was fine, and that you were independent, grown, and a professional, that you needed no help or anybody to tell you what you should and should not do; foolishly cocky of you, it must have been the liquor still talking. These words were not just repeated to anyone, but repeated to everyone in the room, including James and Lars. You didn't care for what the drummer had to say, but it was the frontman who clamped down on the suggestion that you should sit this one out. Though, you were fixed on getting the last word in, never liking being told what's good for you.

"I swear to God, when I get my hands on her! Half the show—fucked up!" You all hear, and reassurance from somebody on staff following, telling James that it wasn't that bad, and that they'll communicate with the engineer responsible—you. James shuts them down, saying that he'll handle it. Then finally, his angry voice pairs with his angry person, as he walks into view from around the corner.

Everyone in the room falls quiet, dead as a doorknob, cautiously examining him. James, fresh off the stage, skin and hair still slicked in sweat and pumped with adrenaline—ready to tackle this issue from the root. Your confidence almost diminishes upon seeing him, and hoping that you can slink away before he can catch you. You make the smallest shift in your legs and he instantly snaps his head at you.

Found you!

His jaw clenches, and unclenches, and he starts for you. You instinctively step back but he snatches your arm, towering down at you. Seeing him this amped up, this close, and the anger rightfully directed at you makes you wanna puddle right then and there. "The fuck was that?" His grip was firm, and you're shocked at how he's got you, especially in front of so many people. Your pride gets the best of you as you huff at him, "We can talk this out like adults—" "No. We're past this. I told..." he trails off as he notices you now looking at someone else, seemingly pleading for them to intervene, he responds to this with a slap to your face, grabbing your face afterwards to force you to look at him. "Look at me when I'm fucking talking to you." The little audience around gasped and exclaimed amongst themselves; so big of reaction, and yet nobody steps up. You all knew that James wasn't the friendliest at all when upset, and folks definitely expected the worst given how shitty the show's sound went tonight, primarily thanks to you. Your heart drops to your ass out of shock, slight fear and anger. Not to mention the humiliation of being scolded in front of everyone as if you were a little kid. This was a signal for you to also shut your smart mouth, but you refused to take that.

"What in that actual fuck is wrong with you?!" You spat, the sting on your cheek bringing flustering heat through your entire body. "Are you serious right now?!" You try to break from his hold, reaching your free arm to retaliate, but he quickly dodges you and throws his arms around you, holding you captive under him. You're damn near at loss for words. You don't notice that more people rushed into the room to witness what was going on. You were advised not to come in today, and yet you were the one to roll your eyes, brushing everyone's concerns off, and all with a pounding hangover! But damn, nobody wanted to step in to help you? "You don't fucking listen." He furthers, causing you to blush deeper, and you struggle against his large frame. "Get the fuck—!" You fight, you grumble something about how you both could easily discuss this in private. This outburst shocked you to your core, having rarely seen this side of him. Is he drunk? You call him a big baby and child among other things.

He lets you loose, but at an arm's distance for grabbing you back again. He looks around the room smugly, letting out a loud set of laughter, and gesturing to you. Your threats you made to him translated as weightless to him, which made you feel quite small in the moment.

But before you respond again, he suddenly starts to drag you to an open door a few steps down the hall, calling out on the way there, "I'm the child... fuckin' please." And reaches around to land a punishing smack to your ass, making you exclaim loudly out of shock, cursing him out. You hear distant giggles from bystanders, as they seem to be full of relief watching you finally confronted. That right there drove you mad.

You're dragged into the room, and he doesn't bother with shutting the door. It's sort of empty, a few crates, and almost vacant shelves, fluorescent facility lights beaming down on you. You're pushed into the right facing wall, back smacking it without warning, leaving you out of breath. Purposefully done so that everything could be seen by passerbyers and know that it's you. James reaches down, unfastening his belt, face set on you, "On your knees." He orders. You're just dumbfounded, and you stare wide eyed at the frontman, paralyzed. "God, do I need to use this on you?" his hands grasping along his belt. You perk up and shake your head quickly,

although...

Never mind.

"Then get that sweet ass on the ground." He spat, starting for you. You quickly obeyed, sinking to your knees. James grabs you roughly by your hair, hand sliding down your face, slapping you once again on the same cheek, and grabbing your chin, causing you to whimper. "Open." James growls, but before you could protest, he shuts it down by smacking you roughly again, "Open." Tears swell in your eyes and you, now irritated, open your mouth, tongue resting slightly over your lip, and you look up at him obediently.

"That's what I thought."

He peels his pants down, just enough for him to pop right out, stiffened and already ready to go. Hm, wonder when that happened? With little warning, he slides himself in your mouth, taking you by surprise and gagging you immediately. He pulls out, cackling down at you. "Cat got your tongue now, huh?" James moans as he taps himself on your tongue while you attempt to regather yourself, your heart still beating out your chest, you start to move your lips the slightest bit to protest, one last time, but he quickly shoves himself back in, letting out a gutted moan, furrowing his brows down at you.

"Dumb fucking bitch. Yeah, take my cock down your throat." James' large hands cradle your head, his left holding your hair like a leash, and his right on the side of your face, stretched to the back of your neck. He thrusts himself in deep, and slow, triggering your gag reflex, causing tears to roll down your face. Your hands fly up to his hips to try to create some type of barrier, but he overpowers you greatly. You whine around his cock, but it does nothing. Nothing but winding Hetfield up.

"Shut you up reeeal good," he starts lowly, "not much to say now." He takes himself out again, gracing you with oxygen. A trail of slobber connected the both of you, you try to catch your breath and brace yourself again, because you know that he's not going to let up. He moves his hand off your face, and moves it to cup your neck. "You're gonna learn to fuckin' listen today." The singer grimaces, you look up at him with pleading eyes, wanting so badly to beg for mercy. Mainly because your ego was damaged. A feeling of shame growing—shame from this confrontation being witnessed by your peers and many others, shame that you let yourself almost derail the show, and shame that you were oddly enjoying the way James decided to deal with you. Wrong? Sure, you were definitely in the wrong. Were you gonna admit it, had James not roughed you up in front of the goddamn city backstage? Probably, a little, yeah, sure.

"Don't give me that shit. This was lonnng overdue." He chortles, then forcibly opens your jaw again. James suddenly spits directly in your mouth, dribbles getting on the side of your face,

"Picture fuckin' perfect, darlin'." He moans deeply as he shoves himself back in, this time, rocking his hips with a power behind it. Absolutely throatfucking you. You hum around him, allowing him to turn your throat raw; he grunts as if it were a song, carelessly waving the fact that you're starting to choke, and tears are rolling down your face due to the lack of oxygen. He switches his hair holding hand, giving his left arm a break, resting it on your shoulder.

By this point, you had began to see tiny black floaters in your vision, your eyes starting to flutter. James noticeably close, with the way he's biting his lip, huffing, cock twitching in your full mouth. You thought you were going to pass out, until you notice that someone has walked into the room, calling for James. He had a headset on, and was watching the scene unfold briefly before snapping back into the moment. James slows, and you can't tell if he's aggravated or not by the interruption, but he pulls out and turns his head; you cough and try to catch your breath. The guy clears his throat, stealing glances at you while he begins to speak,

"Um, sir, you uhh." He pauses, rubbing his chin awkwardly. The singer gives a sarcastic grin, "Spit it out." He doesn't even acknowledge the situation, acting so nonchalantly that it's just...scary. The man continues, almost flinching at James—fuck is he the one nervous for?—, "You have that interview? The rest of the guys are waiting for you..." He trails off, half-smiling at the frontman. James keeps smiling, his hand loosening on your hair and shrugs, "Be there in a minute man, tell 'em not to start without me." The man nods, stealing one last glance at you before rushing out the room, reaching to close the door, but James stops him.

"Leave it." He orders, turning his head back to you. The man lets go, and leaves.

James chuckled dryly. "Think they're enjoying our little show?" He grabs himself, jerking roughly. You grumble in response, and spit out a "Fuck you, James." His eyes grow dark, smirking down at you, "Mmm, say that again for me..." A suggestion of rhetoric, because he pumps himself back into your mouth immediately, finishing what he was starting to do, "And leave those fucking hands behind your back."

You oblige, and he follows up with a "good girl."

Moments later, James had worked himself back to the finish line, choice words flying out, which honestly furthered your confusing enjoyment. He looked good, the whole exchange that is, his aggression only adding to it all. To speed him up, you assist him by moaning, whimpering around him. "Fuck, bitch," He clams his eyes shut, roughly thrusting into you a few more times before he pulls out of you, jerking himself to his end, telling you to keep your tongue out. He positions your head for you, relieving himself all over you. Your face, your tongue, even your favorite black long-sleeved shirt. You catch your breath for the final time, throat raw and eyes puffy, you fall back on your thighs, and hang your head, trying to keep your composure. James regathered himself, grabbing his belt once again, he seizes the opportunity to get another quip in over you. He folds it in half, pointing it at you, "I'm far from done with you." Before letting out another laugh. You say nothing, your face speaks for you, a blush pulls at your already slightly reddened face and you quickly look away. He approvingly hums, fastening his belt back to him. He walks towards the exit, turning back to you.

"Do as you're told."

You squint your eyes at him, starting up something else to say, but couldn't find the words, considering they were throat fucked right out of you. Seems you've learned your lesson. At least you knew he wouldn't have you fired off the tour.

He leaves the room.

You stay where you are, recollecting yourself, trying to chalk down what just happened, and think about what's to happen next, shivering with both fear and heated curiosity. Then finally, you rise to your feet.

Somebody walks past the door, slowing down to break their neck into the room, eyes finding you, but then quickly continuing down the hallway. It hits you. That was the supposed to be the person to cover you for this night! At this point, all you can do is groan and look at the ceiling.

You were advised, you were warned and you were told.

Guess you got what you deserved!

♓︎𝔞𝔱𝔢

#metallica #metallica smut #metallica fic #james hetfield #james hetfield smut #ruh roh

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