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wh6res · 3 years

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one more time | markhyuck

"if i'm going to teach you how to fuck her right, you’re gonna need the best seat in the house, markie!" — lhc

warnings. dubious content, swearing, bondage, voyeurism, masturbation, exhibitionism, mentions of stalking, fingering, oral (f receiving), degradation, there’s a knife (but no knifeplay), a threesome, implied kidnapping

disclaimer. i dont condone anything. this isnt a normal relationship. this aint love.

note. prolly going to hell for this but who cares. markhyuck for @nakamotocore i wuv ya ie please get better soon! TT and dom hyuck for my napaka kalat na mami @donghyukcore

against all rational thinking, haechan is getting bored from seeing the pathetic five feet distance between you and mark when he comes home. he tries to understand the other male in the relationship. truly, he does, even if he highly doubts that celibate little mark lee can pleasure you the way he can but everything's practically past that line now. donghyuck just wants to have some fun with you two, is that too much to ask for? at this point, he's blatantly ignoring the fact that you and mark don't even like each other.

but haechan cares for mark just as much as he cares about you and he won't just let his best friend miss out on all the fun things he can do to their little doll, right? what kind of a friend would he be? once haechan shoves him into a world of temptation and sin and pleasure, mark would kiss his self-induced celibacy goodbye.

plus, you've been awfully naughty these days.

talks about wanting to come home or getting at least a few rights to have gadgets were the only thing you said whenever you see him. it went as far as practically growling and running away from haechan when he tries to initiate something with you, screeching your lungs out and saying, "don't fucking touch me, you creepy little psycho!"

deflowering mark.

punishing you.

he'd be killing two birds with one stone.

he's fucked your stubborn little self into submission once, but all that overprivileged tv sessions might've put silly little ideas into your dumb little head again. alas, no worries, he'll just have to do it one more time. and maybe, now with the aid of his good 'ol buddy mark, they'll both be able to screw you up so good you'll never want to leave their clutches.

"gumdrop, can you come here for a second?"

haechan isn't deaf to the exaggerated groan you let out from the living room and it grates on his nerves how utterly brave you are for being passive aggressive. you reminded him of a little girl in a temper tantrum because they weren't given any candy - and when you show up in the master bedroom clad in your little pink dress, eyes upturned and sharp, a pathetic little girl was all he can think of when he saw you.

only now did he notice that you had even detangled your hair from the intricate braids haechan spent at least twenty minutes doing earlier this morning. where was mark all this time? why wasn’t he there to stop you? geez, you both are so going to get it, this time!

"what do you want?"

"can you give me a hug? i felt awfully stressed at work today. i need my little gumdrop."

this was obviously a test. don't get him wrong, he'll still punish you but if just this one time you learned to swallow that bitchy attitude and come crawling to him as the perfect lover should, maybe he won't be too harsh.

but he gave you too much credit, he thinks. of course his dumb cockwhore doesn't know shit. of fucking course, you wouldn't know it was a test. not when you scoffed, rolled your eyes at him, and spun in your heels to walk back to the living room.

"beat your meat with your own hands, creep."

haechan's reaction is immediate, his long legs allowing no delay in crossing the room to mercilessly fist your hair. he had pulled your hair so bad you thought it was going to rip right at the roots, all of his pent up anger due to your poor behavior channeling into that one grip.

you feel his scoff of disbelief against the curve of your neck as haechan pulls you flush against his body. "what the fuck did you just say to me?" he laughs patronizingly. "beat my meat with my own hands – aw, baby! that has got to be the best one yet!"

it truly was, though. he's not going to lie. out of every vicious snarl and hate-induced words you said to him, that particular offhand comment takes the cake. seriously, sometimes haechan thinks you're deliberately trying to make him furious – gumdrop, if you wanted to be fucked silly, all you had to do was ask.

he hurls you to the mattress, breath knocking right out of your lungs. before you can even sit back up and crawl away from haechan, he's already crawling over your body to sit directly on your stomach, fiddling with something on the headboard. you nearly scream in frustration, no matter what you do, you just can't throw him off of you!

"i don't know why the fuck you're behaving this way but it's gone too far. one more time. do i need to fuck some respect into you, one more time?”

a new wave of motivation surges through you when you hear the familiar click clacking of metal. your eyes widened just a fraction, the only thing that gave away the unease quickly seeping under your skin. if not for haechan's perceptive eyes, he would have missed it.

he merely used one hand to grip both your wrists in a vice. "no!" you squirmed, tossing and turning and trying with all your might to get him off of you. "no! i don't want that – not the cuffs!"

he loops the respective bands around your wrists with practiced ease. the last handcuffs he used had torn and marked your skin, something haechan wasn't fond of. only he can paint your bare skin with colors.

thus, he bought newer ones. the bands were a bright shade of red, connected to each other using a medium sized chain that loops around one of the steel wires of the bed, and the little bells attached to the bands ring with your every movement.

haechan knows the bells drove you crazy. its incessant ringing driving you up the wall as you couldn't keep your hands still whenever he fucked you to oblivion – he knew how much you loathed the sound of the bells, all the more reason for him to enjoy.

and mark, too. speaking of which…

you stubbornly pull at your bounded hands, glaring at the man before you as he studies your state. the corners of his lips curl up at the sight of you struggling. "you always look so good in red, gumdrop."

before you were given a chance to reply, he stormed out of the room with a sense of purpose bounding his steps. "lee donghyuck!" you screamed. "fucking come back and get me out of these, you pervert!"

he can hear you thrashing in your chains and yelling profanities from a room away. where was the demure girl he turned you into after only a week living in the apartment? though funny enough, the blood in haechan's sadistic side rushes in excitement at the prospect of wiping that glare off your face. it wasn't the fear, nor your submission that gets him off. it was the idea that he can and he will break you down no matter how many times you try to build yourself back up again.

he's not too sure whether he's going to eliminate that dirty mouth you've developed, though. because you did make him snort in the most unattractive way when you told him he can fucking jack himself off when he had been merely asking for a hug. this aggressive side you developed is… nice. he can work with it.

"can you ask your play thing to keep it down?" mark hisses, flinching and making an offkey sound with his guitar when a certain screech from you caught him off-guard.

haechan smiles.

"why don't you shut her up?"

it took a good few minutes trying to talk mark into stepping into the bedroom where he's got you chained to the headboard, but alas, haechan can be persuasive if he wants to be.

frankly, the younger man is sick and tired of hearing both of you bicker – it's no wonder you've developed a sharp tongue! it's all mark's fault and yet it's haechan that has to do the dirty work of setting you straight all over again. you're a tough cookie to crack, someone hauntingly immune to the violence and chaos.

and yet…

"you don't – don't seriously plan on doing this, do you?" your eyes go back and forth between the two males, primarily addressing the younger, devil-spawned male. haechan, ever observant, picks up the light tremor in your voice.

haechan had uttered a playful "if i'm going to teach you how to fuck her right, you're gonna need the best seat in the house, markie!" before forcing the older boy to sit by your side, mark's thighs grazing the temples of your head as your eyes awkwardly flutter up to the spectator.

mark couldn't deny he was intrigued by the emotion reflecting in your orbs. when your eyes met, it was a silent plea, he just knew it was. and unlike vulnerable and helpless you, mark, to some extent, still had at least some sense of freedom to him. he can choose to walk away, to stop haechan from trying to get him laid, maybe even talk the other boy into postponing your punishment.

but he'll do no such thing.

not because he has a moral compass (he doesn't, really) but because mark knew firsthand, there's no stopping haechan once he sets his mind into something – and right now, if that boy wants to punish you and use mark to fulfil his exhibitionistic fantasies then that's what'll happen.

your bottoms were the first to go, haechan's blunt nails digging into your skin as he pulled it down slowly, patronizingly, while watching bemused at your squirming. "this is how you know she needs a reminder," he says, addressing mark. "a good princess should take whatever's given to her like a good girl but if she's being an ungrateful brat –"

you flinch when he harshly smacks your thigh.

"– she gets what’s coming for her, right?"

there's a second's delay with mark's reply. haechan didn't mean for the question to be rhetorical, he wanted an answer from the other boy.

"right, mark?"

"r – right…"

haechan laughs, flipping the skirt of your dress up. "what, are you that excited for pussy that you're stuttering? that's cute."

you hear mark intake a sharp breath when haechan dives in to give you feathery kisses in your inner thigh. he always starts off this way, after figuring out this gets you wet way faster than simply kissing you.

as haechan starts talking, lips lazily grazing over your skin, you fight hard not to utter a single sound as you pull on your chains. "listen carefully, markie. do you hear those whimpers? she likes it," you feel the prickles of his sharp stare. "she's just too much of a fucking brat to admit it. go on gumdrop, your fighting spirit makes this all the more interesting."

you hate the patronizing tone he used as his hands trail higher, and higher until it's pinching at the bud of your clit. and against your whole being trying to keep your lips sealed, alas, it parts and creates a soft whimper that has mark stiffening next to you.

haechan lays his tongue flat against your folds. you weren't in the least bit wet yet to accommodate his size, but that's easy. he merely circles the bud with the tip of his tongue before pushing two fingers in. months of standing in the shadows outside your window had made him memorize the movement of your fingers whenever you pleasured yourself.

he felt the jolts of the bed as you shook your head side to side, trying with everything you can to hold your moans in. a corner of his lips can’t help but curl up. "what, gumdrop? too shy to lose yourself because we have an audience? don't worry our celibate little friend over here seems to like it. go on, give him a show."

too lost in the ministrations of his lips and fingers, you don't see haechan meeting eyes with mark, nodding at an object lying on the bed side table. you can only shudder when the cool tip of a knife presses against the base of your throat, hooking under the collar of your dress as mark slowly rips it off.

but haechan doesn't have the patience. "dude, give that to me. at your phase you'll get her naked tomorrow. let the tip cut her skin, the bitch deserves it anyway."

you scream when he drags it unceremoniously down your front, narrowly missed tearing at your navel. there are a few pricks of pain here and there for when the knife accidentally nicked your skin. he sure was ruthless as can be. why did you even bother acting like a brat, cursed him out, when it gave you no benefits whatsoever? did he unknowingly transform you into this sick little masochist that thrived on his sadism?

"no."

it was a defeated whisper. the last of your resolve turning into dust as the breath escapes your lungs. why did losing feel so heavy in your chest? you don't notice your arms slumping, nor your head nodding off to one side, the weight of your horrible reality sinking into you once again as if you had only been kidnapped yesterday.

but it had not been yesterday. it's been days. weeks. months. and the last time you sneakily got ahold of mark's phone and searched for your name, the last news clip or article published about your disappearance had been three months ago. that only meant one thing.

they weren't looking for you anymore.

just like that the world continued, other people's lives continued. all the while you're stuck here, rotting in the arms of your captors.

haechan's face emerged in front of you. he smiles and you would've believed he felt an ounce of guilt if not for that wicked stare in his eyes. "you've always been most beautiful like this, gumdrop. the hope disappearing in your eyes upon the realization that no one's coming for you anymore – i love it. i love you, my pretty girl."

he placed a chaste kiss on your forehead but he might as well have shot you straight in the heart.

there was no warning, nothing to ready you for the sudden intrusion happening on your bottom half and it was so bad, that it made you shut your eyes, hands wrapping around the chains as tears started falling across your cheeks.

rough fingers reached out and wiped them away.

something felt off.

the fingers were too calloused, opposed to the softness of haechan's nimble fingers. and while the aforementioned male had more length than girth, the person who's thrusting himself inside you is the complete opposite. he's stretching you out too much, not even bothering to give you time to adjust when he's already bucking his hips like an animal.

"shh, it's okay. i'll take care of you…"

this wasn't haechan.

and when you fluttered your eyes open to see mark's boyish little face, you can't help that look of betrayal painting your features. at least you only had to deal with one obsessive, sex-deprived freak. now, you're not so sure if you can handle both of them.

how foolish of you to think that mark's self-induced celibacy stretched far and wide when in reality, he was also just a boy with his own needs. a slave to his own temptations.

how cruel. so, so cruel.

in the back of your mind, you were thankful haechan cared enough to properly get you in the mood or else you would've been staining the bed sheets red by how deep and frantic mark’s thrusts were. it felt like he wanted to tear you in half.

"if i didn't know better i'd say you're experienced, markie! i wouldn't fucking know you're a virgin by how much you're humping her like a dog.”

curse him and his dirty mouth. his constant degradation is making it easier for mark to slide in and out of you, and a proof for that is the lewd slick sounds echoing in the room partnered with the older male's deep grunts – a complete opposite of the pitched, whiny sounds haechan makes.

'gumdrop, come on! be noisy with our first-timer here just how you're always noisy with me, yeah? don't be such a killjoy." the pout in his voice is evident, coming from the side of your ear.

you wish you had never turned your head, otherwise you wouldn't have to see him pumping his own dick in his hands right in front of you. the glare you shot probably looked pathetic, what with all the tears streaming down your face and your little theory proves true when you see his mouth quirk up to the side.

"i fucking hate you."

"mark, fuck her harder, wouldja? until she learns her fucking lesson."

the disturbed stare you gave him does not slip his notice, his hand's pace turning erratic, spurred by the slick sound of your walls, skin clapping, and mark's broken whines.

make him stop, your eyes said. please.

but haechan only shoots you an innocent smile before shaking his head. "didn't you tell me to beat my meat with my own hands?"

taglist !!

@hoeartchoke @donghyukcore @stopknot @greenish-taro @stayvision @zhongriot @lmaoskz @zephyr-abyss @anonymous-stuff @josuke8 @jaemotel @gothboyjisung

wanna be added to my general taglist? click here!

#yandere nct #yandere kpop #yandere nct 127 #yandere haechan #yandere mark #nct imagines #mark imagines #haechan imagines #nct scenarios #markhyuck scenarios #mark scenarios #nct smut #haechan smut #mark smut #nct oneshots #markhyuck oneshots #markhyuck imagines

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mostly-marvel-musings · 3 years

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The Bachelorette - Part 1

A/N: Okay this may be too wild for me but I went for it. Feedback is much appreciated.

Pairing: Stephen Strange x Loki x Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, threesome, some dirty talk? Nothing but filth. Cheating?

You have been warned.

Word count: 1600

Summary: On your bachelorette trip, you need a one-night stand just to get it out of your system, lucky for you there are two gentlemen willing to help you out.

Everything Taglist – @godofplumsandthunder @ladyacrasia @agustdowney @swaggysposts @littlegasps @little-baby-vixen @another-stark-sub @supraveng @kahlanmars @marvelgirl7 @disappointmentofthefam @pandaxnienke @tom-hlover @just-the-hiddles @fyreball66 @asmigurub @avantgardium-leviosa @imerdwarf @gladiosamicitias

…

Looking over your shoulder you could see your girlfriends in the distance busy giggling away with the bartender as he generously poured drinks for them, keeping them preoccupied. The alcohol in your system was enough to allow you to pursue this, not enough to make you regret it the next morning.

It would have to be one of the things you’d take with you to your grave.

You had two choices, either going back to them continuing the party as if nothing had happened or, accepting the offer that the two fine gentlemen laid out before you. The latter included walking through a portal leading straight to a room that guaranteed all of your fantasies coming true, while the former seemed safe.

The internal battle went on for quite a while before you quieted your rational side & went with your adventurous one. You wouldn’t have another bachelorette party, this was it, your big send-off into the married universe. And with someone who could literally alter time, you had little to worry about being unfaithful to your partner. This timeline would be erased into oblivion.

Finally you placed your hand in Loki’s outstretched one and watched Strange give you a grin that seemed to hide many sinful secrets.

Leaving the balmy beach air behind was relieving as the portal became narrower before vanishing completely in golden specks, leaving you standing in a palatial room that seemed out of time.

The interiors were ornate, historic even, complete with a four poster bed made of carved dark wood with drapes hanging from the sides, floating invitingly in the breeze that blew through the open window behind it, making you wonder if this was the Sanctum they had been talking about.

Your eyes ran over every piece of furniture in the room until nothing was left to stare at but the two men who were regarding you with a look of lust and want enough to send shivers down your spine and made your cheeks display the effect they already had without touching you.

“Take a seat.” Strange offered, gesturing to the chaise that sat in front of the bed.

Nodding silently, you sat down looking between the two as they unbuttoned their respective shirts slowly before rolling up their sleeves up to their elbows, revealing strong muscular forearms, veins peeking through the surface adding to the appeal.

The two moved with such grace, almost like presenting a rehearsed dance before you while you stared. It made you wonder if they’d done this before but you pushed those thoughts aside immediately, of course they had. But you weren’t here to worry about that, this was your night to let the outside world slip, a break from reality, this was your night to have fun without having to worry about the consequences.

“You’re not gonna make me undress for myself are you?”

The sudden confidence in your voice took them by surprise as you stood up and stepped out of your shoes, toying with the strap of your sundress, waiting.

Loki stalked toward you, eyeing you like a predator would its prey, his lean figure towered over you as he stopped inches away. His scent filled your senses as your eyes closed instantly, body eager to be touched.

You heard Stephen’s footsteps coming to a halt behind you, his fingers ghosting over your neck before pulling your hair to one side.

“What do you say, Doctor?”

Loki’s voice made you jump, his lips dangerously close to your ear while you felt his fingers lightly graze over the skin of your shoulder before he pushed the straps of your dress downward.

The room wasn’t cold nonetheless, your nipples hardened as the dress passed your breasts and down your stomach before pooling at your feet, leaving you in nothing but black panties.

The proximity of the two was enough to leave your skin goose pimpled before a cold touch landed on your cheek making you gasp.

It was Loki. His breath intermingled with yours as you felt his lips descend over yours in a soft kiss meant to ease you in. You willed your hands to move, boldly linking them behind his neck and pulling him closer as you sighed into his mouth. Taking this advantage, Loki slipped his tongue in, meeting you halfway as they fought, your hands weaved through his raven black hair, pulling ever so slightly. Loki kissed languidly, like he had all the time in the world to explore your mouth, relishing the feeling.

Stephen’s warm fingers sliding down your sides before reaching around to knead your breasts felt like a welcome contrast to Loki’s cold touch. Loki swallowed the moan that escaped you as Stephen’s mouth latched onto your neck, sucking and biting the skin as his hands kneaded your breasts, pinching and rolling your buds in his expert fingers.

You began unbuttoning Loki’s shirt wanting to feel more of what was hiding beneath the fabric, his torso lean and hard under your touch, gliding over his smooth skin before moving further south. The sorcerer spun you around abruptly breaking contact with the Asgardian God before slanting his mouth over yours. Stephen’s kiss was consuming, dominating and urgent, the kind that made you forget everybody and everything.

You felt the slick gather between your legs as did Loki whose hands travelled down your torso to palm your core over the fabric, groaning into your ear as he felt your arousal through your panties. Helping you out of them, the two rid themselves of clothing minus the boxers before guiding you towards the bed, never once losing proximity.

As you laid back against the plush mountain of pillows, their hungry eyes feasted on your naked form, warming your cheeks, sending tingles straight to your core.

“You are glorious darling.”

Loki knelt between your parted legs, opening them further after hooking his hands under your knees all while Strange moved to lay beside you, placing soft kisses along your jawline, down to your pulse point.

The tip of Loki’s nose nudged your bundle of nerves diverting your attention downward where he met your eyes for a second before delving into your folds. He marked a few spots on the inner side of your thighs as Stephen marked his on your chest and neck leaving you a tingly mess.

“Oh God…” a sharp inhale of breath felt necessary as Loki’s tongue plunged into your soaked core.

“Relax sweetheart.” Stephen’s voice thick & muffled against your chest as his hands caged yours above your head securely but you continued to struggle.

“Mmm. She tastes exquisite, Doctor.”

“Does she now?”

Loki rubbed his thumb against your clit after detaching his lips from your core, admiring how it glistened in the dimly lit room, all because of him.

Your back arched off the bed when he inserted two fingers in your entrance without warning, the other hand working your clit as he slowly began massaging your walls, stretching you out gently.

Your nails dug into Stephen’s forearms and before you knew it, there were ropes wrapping around your wrist holding them tightly against each other, emitting a soft orange glow.

The wizard, of course.

You had no time to adjust as Loki hadn’t stopped his actions, your first orgasm of the night approaching fast as you clenched around him, hips lifting off the bed seeking more of him.

You cried out loud as you came, Loki placed a final kiss to your core before standing on his knees. It was when your eyes fluttered open that you realized the sorcerer had lifted you up and was on his knees, his chest to your back.

You were sandwiched between the two men, hands tied above your head still, knowing they were just getting started.

Loki captured your mouth to give you a taste of what you had offered, making you groan into the kiss while Strange parted your knees before palming your dripping core.

“I want to touch you too.” You pulled against the restraints, making them chuckle.

“You will darling.”

“We have all the time.”

Strange’s slender fingers cupped your pussy while he nibbled on your earlobe, rubbing your clit in fast circles before plunging a finger inside with ease.

For someone who could manipulate time, Strange seemed to be in a hurry when it came to you.

“She is lovely, isn’t she?” Loki purred.

“Indeed.”

The compliments and their expert touches brought your second climax of the night impossibly quicker, your walls fluttering and aching for more as you shuddered, crying out profanities as your head rolled back in pleasure and your legs quivered.

“Do you want to take a break?”

One of them offered softly, you weren’t sure who, the buzz from your last orgasm lingering over making the details around you a little fuzzy.

“M’fine.”

Your juices coated Stephen’s fingers, his attempt to lick them clean halted by Loki who popped his fingers in his mouth. The sight was hot enough to remain a permanent capture in your brain & embarrassing enough for you to hide your face in the crook of Loki’s neck who chuckled.

“Don’t be shy, sweet mortal.”

“Okay I may need a minute.”

Part 2 is uuuppp!!!

#stephen strange x loki x you #stephen strange fanfiction #doctor strange x reader #loki laufeyson smut #loki smut #stephen strange imagine #marvel smut #stephen strange fluff #loki x reader #loki imagine

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cherryblossomsies · 3 years

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trigger warning: racism, profanities.

update!!

first of all, i have no say in this situation, because i am an asian and i need to respect the black culture and not let my voice silences the black engenes that were supposed to talk about this matter. i am still confused as onto what to believe, a lot of black engenes said that they heard the word being pronounced, but at the same time a lot of black engenes said they did not hear it. so in this post i’m not going to talk about whether i think the n word is being pronounced or not because i have no rights to do so.

but out of all things, i’m the most mad at a lot of engenes who decided to fight this with racism. it hurts my heart to read a lot of engenes’ comments calling out the black engenes community racial slurs, calling them dirty and jobless. where are all of your manners? do you really think fighting and backing up enhypen by saying racist things will calm the situation down? and the fact that they hid it from the artists on weverse kind off gave away hints of how much of snakes they are. in situations like this, i could clearly see the true colours of a lot of my oomfs, and it was a little bit disappointing.

i have quite a number of black engenes friends, and it hurts me to see them being sad over this matter. and the racist comments from ‘engenes’ were no help either.

fuck, i don’t even think you should label yourself as an engene if you’re a racist. enhypen would be disappointed in you.

and getting into the most important part;

belift:lab

belift:lab could be deemed as one of the most unprofessional, unethical company i have ever seen. back when it was about sunoo’s situation, all they did was some damage control by giving us vlives, more videos and pictures. and it repeated again in this situation, even going as far as to giving us dance jam lives. and it did not sit right with me, they should be scrambling and running around to prepare a proper statement now, this is not what engenes want. the whole fandom wanted an explanation, a statement.

if someone really said it, then it should be our job as fans to educate them, to hold them accountable, to make them know that this is no joking matter, this is not a matter where you could say oh the word was replaced with a korean word or nah there is another audio singing too at the background and totally get away with it because there’s a huge number of fans who believed the other wise. this goes all the way back to black people’s history, and it was heartbreaking. if you still don’t know why non black people cannot say the n word,

here’s the link.

the whole company should not even be sleeping properly right now, how would you feel if a whole big portion of race in the world got offended by what your one and only idol group did? they should clear the misunderstandings (if it was a misunderstanding) as soon as possible and not just swept these matters under a rug before it bites back and gets worse.

we still haven’t received a proper statement about sunoo until this day, now that a far more serious matter arose, are they still going to pull the same stunt over and over again? what about enhypen’s reputation? don’t they know that these things could affect enhypen’s journey of becoming global idols like they were hoping for in the future?

for god’s sake, they don’t even have a damn email.

a fucking email.

a big ass company, no fucking e m a i l.

to all engenes who are reading this, if you are a non black, please try to not speak louder than the black engenes. show them support, but don’t try to dictate whether someone in enhypen said the n word or not. you have no rights, i know it sounded a little bit harsh saying this but us, non black people have no rights over the n word at all. the n word belongs to the black people community. let the black engenes community discuss this within themselves, a lot of people are very sensitive right now so do not try to make things worse.

to all engenes who have been working hard to fight off the racist remarks from other engenes, you have done well, keep up the good work!! <3 if you are wondering about what is happening, or wanted to vent something out to me don’t hesitate to message me personally.

and lastly to all racist engenes, any rational member of enhypen would not be proud of what you are doing right now at all. remember, you are the worst type of people in the world.

some images:

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shijiujun · 4 years

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[ENG] History3: Trapped Novel - Epilogue One: “And After, Tang Yi & Shao Fei”

~3,700 words

Translation Masterpost can be found here

Disclaimer: Translations are entirely mine and Wei’s - these are not official translations and some phrases have been changed for better English interpretation so you’ll definitely see better/different translations elsewhere. Also keeping in mind when we translated this we aren’t exactly thinking about the style of writing and this translation is as close to the novel as we can make it XD So yes, some parts may be a little awkward to read. And yes some teeny weeny details and words may not turn up in the translation because the Chi to Eng mind acrobatics didn’t work out. If you see asterisks, scroll all the way to the bottom for notes!

Epilogue One: “And After, Tang Yi & Shao Fei”

N Years Later, Shi Hao Corporation’s Building

A secretary, wearing high heels and dressed in a sharp blazer and pencil skirt ensemble, holds onto a freshly printed contract for a construction project and walks into the meeting room.

She bends slightly, standing next to the CEO and says softly, “Boss, this is the second version of the contract, if I could trouble you to check it over?”

“Nnn, just leave it here and I’ll have a look at it later. And also, make an appointment with Boss Chen for tomorrow evening at 7pm later, at…”

The man, clad in a sleek suit, simultaneously gives his secretary her tasks while listening to each department manager reporting on their respective progress. Suddenly, from the man’s jacket pocket comes the sound of a phone’s vibrations, and all the subordinates seated nearer to him all gesture to the other people in the room with their gazes and mouths after realising what is going on. At that, even the department manager currently giving his presentation ceases to speak, as he points the controller at the screen projector to pause his timed presentation.

“Ex-boss, Captain Meng has gotten injured, and he’s already been sent to Dr Jiang’s private hospital.”

“Nnn.”

The man immediately stands from his seat after ending the call and straightens out the wrinkles in his shirt before walking out of the silent meeting room with an upset expression on his face. Only when the CEO has entirely disappeared from their line of vision does everyone exhale nervously, as if a ban has just been lifted with the man’s departure.

“Whew…. Let the boys know to go over to Dr Jiang’s hospital and stay there, don’t let Boss or Captain Meng run into any more problems.”

After so many years of working on reforming Xing Tian Meng, the Xing Tian Meng that existed in the underworld no longer exists, and while it is entirely unavoidable that they still have some influence there, major departments in the company have actively tried not to step into the dealings of the underworld again.

“Should we call CEO Zuo to come back and take over?”

The department manager who was interrupted and forced to pause halfway through his presentation directs the question at the people seated nearest to him, looking at the projector.

“You fucking-”

Used to using these profanities to start any sentence, the man who just spoke automatically trails off. He glares at the department manager instead.

Coughing awkwardly, he says, “Do you want to die? Even if CEO Zuo said yes, Brother Dao Yi will never agree to it.”

Everyone else nods fervently.

That’s right, CEO Zuo and Brother Dao Yi finally got pregnant after much difficulty three years after they got married, and seeing as she was expected to be due in a few days, who would dare to ask CEO Zuo to come back to the office to handle work at this point? The Boss getting angry was one thing, but first they would have to go through Brother Dao Yi.

Geez! Just thinking about it makes everyone shiver and break out in cold sweat.

“Forget it, let’s settle the items that do not need the Boss’ final decision first, and the rest, we’ll wait for the boss to come back.”

“You’re right.”

Everyone present in the room is at the managerial level, so they immediately come up with a replacement for today’s agenda and continue with Shi Hai Corporation’s scheduled meeting while waiting for the boss, even if they don’t know when he’ll actually come back.

Hospital

“Fuck! Meng Shao Fei do you think that I’m that free every day? Didn’t I warn you not to rush to the frontlines and take on everything by yourself first every time you run into a problem? I still have two surgeries to scrub in on today, and in the end? I have to be here to wrap up your wounds for you. God, my life is so tough. This can obviously be passed on to a nurse to deal with but because of someone’s orders, I have to repeatedly revise my Year One course in basic nursing.”

Dr Jiang glares at the Captain who was personally escorted to his hospital just for a small 10cm wound, made by a perp with a knife.

“Hehe, thank you!” laughs Shao Fei breathily with his mouth wide, as he sits on the hospital bed and enjoys the special treatment that the hospital usually affords only their top VIPs.

That year, Captain Shi was thoroughly investigated by prosecutors due to his involvement with illicit drug smuggling and the double homicide case, which ended with him leaving the police force for good. And that very night that Captain Shi took the congratulatory pastries from Shao Fei from his daughter’s wedding, he left Shao Fei with one thing.

“Shao Fei, I’ll leave Team 3 in your hands.”

In the beginning, he didn’t understand what Captain Shi meant, until the new staff shuffle orders came from Human Resources, and that’s when he found out that Chief, while making his confession to his superiors, also offered a suggestion to their commanding officer.

“If you guys are looking for someone to take over my position and continue to lead Team 3, I recommend Meng Shao Fei to take on the position of Captain.”

Just like that, after a period of training and assessments, he is now sitting in Chief’s previous position. Before, the sound of Chief yelling was the thing Team 3 heard the most often; now, the responsibility of teaching the rookies has fallen on Shao Fei’s head.

“Meng. Shao. Fei!”

A cold voice echoes, and each word stabs right at Shao Fei’s ears as the door to the hospital room slides open.

The man whose name was called immediately freezes, and with wide eyes, Shao Fei looks at Tang Yi approaching him, not daring to move in the slightest.

“You’re finally here,” Dr Jiang side eyes the man who he expects would be here, and his voice dripping with sarcasm, he comments lightly, “Tang Yi, your darling baby’s wound has been given stitches and is all wrapped up properly. Hurry bring him home and discipline him, and stop wasting my gauze and antiseptic solution! He’s also taking up my VIP ward!”

Once he is done speaking, Dr Jiang pats at his robes with his hands and leaves the ward with the emergency first aid kit with him.

Tang Yi walks over to the side of the bed. Gently picking up Shao Fei’s bandaged left arm and hand, he asks with furrowed brows, “What happened this time?”

“How would I have known that the perp had a second knife on him? A moment of carelessness… and… this happened.”

Shao Fei swallows hard, and decides to omit the part where the knife came really close to his arterial vein on his neck, lest his ‘punishment’ becomes more severe.

Suddenly, Tang Yi takes out a metal pen from his chest pocket, plucking off the pen’s cover and viciously scratches himself on the arm, in the same spot as Shao Fei’s wound.

“What are you doing?!” Shao Fei yells angrily, and snatches Tang Yi’s weapon in hand away.

“Does your heart hurt?”

“Nonsense!”

Shao Fei grits his teeth and reaches out for the call button to get Dr Jiang who just left the room to come back. Just as he’s about to do so, Tang Yi firmly locks his hand around Shao Fei’s wrist to stop his movements.

“How much does it hurt?”

“It hurts a lot! You better fucking let go of me, I’m going to find Dr. Jiang-”

Tang Yi suddenly moves to cradle Shao Fei’s face with his hands, and kisses Shao Fei, who is in the midst of yelling at him.

Shao Fei has gotten used to intimacy with Tang Yi and out of habit, simply returns the kiss passionately, until rationality returns to him. Only then does Shao Fei push at Tang Yi, who’s kissing him so deeply. Idly, he chides himself for letting his mind wander off to other things right at this moment.

“Have you cooled down?”

“Not possible,” Shao Fei says as he picks up some tissue from the side and presses on the wound Tang Yi made on his left arm, treating the cut in the crudest way possible.

“Meng Shao Fei, since you can’t protect yourself well and not make me worry, then on the same spot where you get injured, I will injure myself as well. If you don’t want to see me continue hurting myself, then please restrain yourself, and protect yourself well. Your body is no longer just yours, because it’s an extension of me, and likewise, our bodies now belong to each other.”

“I’m sorry…. Tang Yi, I’m sorry…,” Shao Fei says guiltily, his mouth pressed next to Tang Yi’s ear and hugging the man before him tight.

“We’re finally together after so much hardship, I really don’t want to lose you.”

“I know…”

“So tonight, forget about sleeping.”

“Huh?”

The sudden switch in Tang Yi’s mood stuns Shao Fei, who was feeling so guilty a second ago. Now, all he can do is make weird noises, his mouth wide open.

“Alright, I’ve got to head back to the office and deal with work.”

Certain now that Shao Fei does not have any life-threatening injuries, Tang Yi kisses Shao Fei softly on the forehead and leaves the VIP-only ward with a smile.

“What a cunning strategist.”

Dr Jiang is leaning against the wall outside of the room, waiting for Tang Yi as he the man walks out of the ward.

Tang Yi looks at him out of the corners of his eyes, and laughs wryly, “Likewise. I cannot compare to Dr Jiang who took advantage of Xiao Shu Gong’s compassionate heart and conned his way into his affections by acting all innocent and pitiful.”*

“Tang Yi, are you happy right now?”

“Very.”

“Then that’s all good.”

With that, Dr Jiang, who still has two surgeries scheduled for the day, immediately turns around and coolly waves, his back faced towards this good friend who he has known for so many years now.

Next to a road

“Ex-boss, Captain Meng has gotten injured, and he’s already been sent to Dr Jiang’s private hospital.”

After sending ‘intel’ back to Tang Yi, Jack keeps his phone in his jacket’s pocket and continues to appreciate his little, hot-blooded police officer (boyfriend).

“You! And you! Bring him back and proceed with getting his statement, and remember to apply for an arrest warrant with the prosecutor's office.”

“Yes!”

Zhao Zi is standing downstairs and very naturally commanding the other team members to finish their job here.

A young police officer, who was transferred over to Team 3 just half a month ago, asks with concen apparent over his face, “Will Captain be okay?”

“Don’t worry! That shady doctor is very good at his job, ah-”

Realizing what he just said, Zhao Zi quickly covers his mouth. Looking around sheepishly and only after making sure that no one within earshot would expose him to said shady doctor does Zhao Zi put down his hands.

He pats at the young officer’s shoulder and says, “Someone else will take care of anything that happens to Ah Fei. All we have to do is finish up here.”

“Okay, Zhao Zi Ge.”***

The young officer bows to Zhao Zi respectfully, then jogs over to a nearby store to request to look at their surveillance footage.

“Hehe, he called me ‘Ge’!”

Now that he’s finally been promoted from ‘Zhao Zi’ to ‘Zhao Zi Ge’, Zhao Zi scratches at the back of his head with a really happy grin, but suddenly, he hears his stomach growl. He bends his head to look at his abdomen.

“Ah! It’s 6pm!”

His body alarm is even more precise than a clock as his stomach sounds at exactly 6pm to remind him to eat. Just as he’s looking around him to find a restaurant, he hears a familiar trumpet sound from behind him on the left, and a loud voice calling his name.

“Shorty! Here, over here!”

“Jack?”

Zhao Zi turns on his left and immediately discovers the huge food truck parked next to the road, and on the truck’s signage, today’s menu is written - Fried beef noodles, Beef Hor Fun, Beef Mui Fan, Beef Fried Rice, and Beef Noodles.

“Wow-”

Zhao Zi’s attention is captured by all the delicious food. He swallows and walks to the truck, and with bright eyes, he looks at Jack, who has since left his life as a mercenary behind since his days at Xing Tian Meng, with something akin to worship.

“How did you know that I wanted to eat all these?”

“I’m your personal chef, of course I know what you’re thinking.”

Jack, who has now become ‘Fang Liang Dian’, has finally returned to life as a common, normal man. Although his Swiss bank account has enough savings to let him spend over three lifetimes, he finds that a too-relaxed life is not suitable for him, and so he has now become Zhao Zi’s house-husband. Aside from being responsible for the shorty’s meals after he returns home, he also bought a food truck, and everyday all he does is chase after his little police officer across the whole of Taiwan on this truck so that he can provide Zhao Zi with piping hot delicious food at any time.

“Wow, I want a bowl of fried beef noodles, a beef hor fun, and another beef fried rice!”****

“No problem.”

A police car suddenly approaches the truck, and Lu Jun Wei pokes his head out of the window inquisitively, then orders unceremoniously.

“You’re here again? Just in time, I was getting hungry too, can I have a plate of beef mui fan please?”

“Of course, I’ll have to take 1000 NTD from the customer,” Jack says with a smile to this unwelcome guest who interrupted the conversation between him and his shorty.*****

“What?! 1000NTD? Are you fucking scamming me?”

Jack looks at him with disdain, and shakes his head at Jun Wei, “If I told you, that these dishes were made with Japan’s A5 Wagyu Beef, will you still say that I’m scamming you?”

“.....”

A, A5 Wagyu beef?! Just a few small cubes would cost up to 2000 or 3000 NTD, and he’s actually using this beef so luxuriously in a dish of fried noodles? Fried rice? Fried hor fun? And even beef noodles?

“You’ll be punished by the gods,” Jun Wei says, but still takes out two 1000 NTD notes from his wallet, “I’ll still like to have a beef hor fun and a bowl of beef noodles.”

Even though he feels sorry towards his wallet which just became full with his salary being credited for the month, towards this accessible price, if he doesn’t eat, he will let himself down.

“No problem at all, I’ll help the customer prepare his order, but the shorty gets priority, always.”

“Yes… I totally understand…”

This isn’t the first day Jun Wei is meeting Jack, how could he not know that this man’s principle of putting his Zhao Zi first?

Zhao Zi touches his ear and with a bit of embarrassment, says, “Jun Wei, sorry about this. I was here a few minutes earlier than you, that’s why.”

Jun Wei rolls his eyes at his junior who’s always this slow on the uptake, and cannot be bothered to explain to Zhao Zi why exactly his turn is behind Zhao Zi’s.

In the delivery room

“Gu, Dao, Yi,” Hong Ye, who’s currently lying on the operating table getting ready to deliver, yells angrily as she holds onto Dao Yi’s hand.

“Don’t get angry, don’t get angry. Remember you have to breathe later, breathe in, and breathe out… That’s right, breathe in, breathe out… Very good. Miss, you’re doing very well.”

“Didn’t I tell you that you’re not allowed to call me ‘miss’ anymore? Damn it! Where did that doctor go?”

“I’m sorry, don’t get so worked up der. Dr Jiang has already assigned his junior from the maternity center to be in charge of your delivery, so don’t worry. After all, Dr Jiang does not specialise in this.”

“Junior?! Can that doctor’s junior be trusted? Ah…. I’m in so much pain…”

“Don’t worry dear, Dr Wu’s reputation precedes him in this field, just leave yourself and the baby in his hands!”

“Gu Dao Yi I’m telling you first, I’m definitely not having a second one!”

Damn it, if it wasn’t because of how much she loved this man, Hong Ye would never have insisted on having their own baby, destroying her figure and taking on the risks of pregnancy and then giving birth to the child.

“Okay okay, we won’t, we won’t, our hands will be full with one child anyway.”

“Ah…. ouch-”

A few hours later, Hong Ye successfully gave birth to a cute daughter, and the new mom who has used up all her strength during delivery is wheeled into a single ward to rest.

A week later, the new baby’s uncles can finally visit at the newborn’s nursery in the hospital and are queuing up outside along the corridor, waiting for the curtains to be pulled open in five minutes.

After the curtains are pulled back, Shao Fei is the first one rushing to the windows with Hong Ye’s ward number, and inside, a nurse swiftly finds the baby among all the other babies in the room, bringing her to the window.

Shao Fei looks excitedly at the little baby, and says, “Wow, how adorable, Tang Yi look, next time the little princess will call you Uncle!”

“Don’t worry! I’ll teach her to first call you ‘aunt’!”

Tang Yi looks at his lover and smirks, and Shao Fei returns his remark with an eyeroll.

“Tch!”

Jack moves over to Dao Yi’s side, smiles and nods, “Dao Yi Ge, you’ve worked hard.”

Ever since Hong Ye’s pregnancy began, her temper became worser than before, and even Tang Yi who dotes on her the most was angered so much a few times, to the point where he just walked away, simmering with fury. Shao Fei usually argues with Hong Ye every meal on a normal day, not to mention during the period when she was pregnant. Only Dao Yi, who’s so well tempered, can handle his wife’s notorious temper, facing it with a smile from day one.

“Miss- Hong Ye worked even harder,” Dao Yi smiles.

Even though they’ve been married for a few years, old habits are really hard to change and he often calls her ‘Miss’, which resulted in Hong Ye leaving the house in anger, because she really hates that.

These nine months they really troubled the gelato ice-cream store’s boss. Usually, the boss changes the flavours available rather often, but to soothe his Hong Ye, Dao Yi asked him to always have the mint chocolate and mango sorbet flavours in store, just waiting for Hong Ye to visit. It also helped Dao Yi to know exactly where he could pick up Hong Ye from whenever she left the house angry.

Jack’s lips curve as he walks towards Zhao Zi, who’s pressed against the window glass entertaining the little princess. Sliding his arm around Zhao Zi’s waist, he asks, “You like children so much?”

“Of course I do! Babies are so adorable, who wouldn’t like them?”

“I don’t. They’re noisy, a nuisance, and they don’t understand human speech.”

The most important thing is, he can’t even lock the baby up in a cage like he would a pet, because he would be charged with abusing a child.

Zhao Zi looks so wistful then, and says, “So you don’t like children? And here I was thinking during Lunar New Year we’ll spring clean and take out my childhood photos for you to see. In this case, forget it then!”

“Wait! You said… whose childhood pictures?”

“Me! If not, who else?”

The moment he hears that it’s Zhao Zi’s photos, he demands, “I want to see!”

“Didn’t you say you dislike kids? They’re noisy, a nuisance, and don’t understand human speech? I think we should just forget it, what if you see me when I was younger, and then end up disliking me now?”

“Impossible,” retorts Jack immediately.

“But what if?”

“As long as it’s you, the younger you, or the older you… I like them all.”

Zhao Zi feels his cheeks heat then, and turns to look at Shao Fei, who’s laughing at him from the side.

“You, you, be quiet! You’re going to bother the little princess.”

“I don’t care, take out all the photos and give them to me. Everything of yours, they’re mine.”

“Okay!”

Once Jack sees Zhao Zi agree, his face all red, Jack’s expression morphs into that of a smile, and then he also bends forward to look at the fidgeting little baby on the other side of the glass.

“Hey, shorty.”

“What?”

“You really like children that much?”

Zhao Zi looks at his lover, and teases, “Didn’t you just ask me that?”

“Then…” Jack deliberately trails on, looking at the shorty’s face from the side, and very naughtily continues, “Shall we give birth to one then?”

“...”

Zhao Zi stares with wide eyes, turning to glare at Jack.

“No, one is not enough, you have to give me two. They better both be daughters, and they should look like me. When they grow up they’re guaranteed to be beauties,” Jack begins to fantasize about his future daughters.

He’s very proud and confident about his own looks.

“Fang, Liang, Dian!” Zhao Zi says through gritted teeth, syllable by syllable.

“Hnn?”

“Giving birth? Fucking hell, I’m a man! Go and die!”******

Zhao Zi lifts his leg and takes aim at one of Jack’s legs, but the man easily dodges the kick. With one person kicking and the other one dodging, in the end the both of them make so much noise that the head nurse ends up kicking them both out of the floor that holds the nursery room.

===

Notes:

*”The artefact which has just been unearthed” - This is from the last episode, where Dr Jiang basically calls Tang Yi an antique which has never seen the light - In Chinese it works as a ‘name’ to call Tang Yi, but when translated there’s no way to translate it correctly without it sounding dumb lmao! The closest would be Dr Jiang going ‘hey you antique’ but that’s not exactly what the words mean, so I went with Tang Yi instead of “the artefact”

**Xiao Shu Gong is one of the characters from History2: Right of Wrong, Shi Yi Jie’s friend who seems to be an archaeologist as well, and he’s paired with Dr Jiang canonically in Trapped.

***Ge means ‘Brother’

****LMAO ZHAO ZI HOW MUCH CAN U EAT IN ONE SITTING?!

*****1000NTD is about 32USD

******I think I spoke to @florbexter on this when I first gave my very messy synopsis/summary on the chapter like... a gazillion months ago, and hmm yeah I ain’t too fond of this trope tbh. Read at your own risk and also this author is really NOT known for good writing. if you enjoy it great tho! if not don’t worry, and don’t think too much about it because... yeah this author and some details of the epilogue, not so great. We win some, we lose some, unfortunately.

#history3: trapped #history 3: trapped #history3圈套 #history 3: 圈套 #history3 novel #translations #history3 merchandise #AHAHAHA wow it's been so long guys #sorry bout that #chap 8-10 are still in progress #but i thought i'd give u guys the epilogues first

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patheticwithanem · 3 years

Text

2020 in Retrospect

Hey friend,

I know it’s late, but I HAVE TO DO THIS. I kind of promised myself I’m writing about the year that was. I’m not exactly sure why; maybe it’s to put things in perspective going in to 2021? And today’s my fourth year anniversary with my employer, so I guess it’s perfect timing? (More on that later)

So I was going through my notes (I have this habit of writing down what happens on a daily basis - be it activities, emotions, drama, name it) and one thing’s for sure. 2020 SUCKED. It did. But I’m committing to this no matter what!

First things first: lots of profanities along the way. Well actually, I was about halfway writing the letter when fucking Tumblr decided to refresh and delete what I’ve been writing for about one fucking hour now. So I have to fucking do it all over again. If this is the Lord telling me to stop being sentimental about 2020, fret not my Lord! I’m one stubborn son of a bitch, so I’m carrying on.

Here’s how the rest of the year unfolded. 2020. Let’s go.

JANUARY. Reunions?

January 1. Had a get-together with a few relatives in Malabon. It was fun! I used to be so allergic to family reunions but I guess age creeping in changes you? You value people even more now? This was also the last time we’re able to spend some time with my uncle from Singapore. He brought his family to spend the holidays here. He’s a sweetheart and a great father who’s missed.

January 9. I attended a college dormmate’s wedding. I remember contemplating whether to go or not only to realize I’m actually lucky to be even invited given the fact that I chose to be distant for them for a long while. I also told myself that not showing up is so far from what I’m trying to be. Although I wasn’t there for the whole thing, I’m glad I did come. I was able to bond with my roommates once again whom I treated like brothers ten years ago and that was nice. A not-so-close dormmate even introduced me to his boyfriend and that’s huuuuge. The bride was beautiful too, and I’m glad she’s in the best place right now after all she’s been through. She’s a strong one, that girl.

January 11. Got invited to a birthday pool party of a colleague at work. I have to say I’m actually quite surprised I was invited to this. She’s always had my back though and always kind of looked after me, so I had to go. It was fun but I didn’t get drunk AT ALL.

January 12. AND THIS IS WHERE SHIT STARTED HAPPENING. The Taal Volcano erupted. It was awful especially for everyone living near the area because everything was covered with ash. It was also a day before my brother’s birthday and we thought the ashfall would be worse the next day so we decided to celebrate earlier.

January 19. Went to a fiesta. Did not expect to survive that at all. It was a different kind of neighborhood, but the people were nice.

January 25. Went to a public market with co-workers to buy clothes, eat chicken wings for dinner and then our regular fix of karaoke. Good times.

Anything else? I was able to book a birthday trip to Yogyakarta, which I eventually canceled because of youknowwhat. Tragic.

February. Blindside!

February 7. Blindside’s a bitch. Yes, that’s what I had written on my notes. I legitimately felt blindsided. So story: I have a friend who I found out was pregnant (let’s call her Ms. Preggy, sorry) and me and her bestfriend (let’s call him Work Son because he was my work son in a lot of ways) decided to hold an intervention for her. The four of us including a friend I’m going to call The-Now-Bestie (kind of a spoiler) whom I had a misunderstanding and was not in speaking terms with will be coming to Work Son’s place. Essentially, the goal was to make Ms. Preggy open up about her pregnancy and her issues with the douchebag father; make her feel that she has us and she doesn’t need to be alone in this. I think it went well, in that regard. However, the whole thing was awkward in epic proportions. It’s as if me and The-Now-Bestie didn’t want to acknowledge each other’s existence, and when we didn’t have a choice, we were sarcastic to each other. I also really felt like an outsider among the four that time; like I wasn’t supposed to be there and wasn’t really contributing to anything. It was a really lonely feeling. I decided to distance myself to them after that.

February 13. WINNERS AT WAR PREMIERE! Words can’t even express how excited I was to see some of my heroes again on screen! Parvati with that “phoenix rising from the ashes” confessional? Damn, girl! Still a fucking legend! It was also nostalgic Yul working his godfather magic once again. I’ve always seen him as a top-tier winner and someone I looked up to for what he represented to the Asian community and the history of Survivor. It was also nice seeing Kim, Tyson, Tony, Sophie, Natalie and Sandra. But I must say I kind of missed Todd. He was my favorite winner and was a great storyteller, a great strategist and a great character with an amazing comeback story. He would’ve been perfect for a season with this caliber of players. And as much as I hate Jeff Probst for shoving him down our throats, I wanted to see Cochran play with these winners! Caramoan’s my first season (a late superfan, yes) and he’s the very reason I got so hooked with the show. I used to think it’s a game where people like me never win. So to see someone like Cochran who’s awkward in every sense of the word (and owning it) win Survivor, it is very inspiring. I like speaking in metaphors and it’s funny how much metaphorical Survivor can be to how I see life now. I see Cochran and if he can win in Survivor, I feel like I can win in life, as silly as that sounds. Cochran sucked his first season, but he then went on to play this dominant game his second try while still managing to be the adorkable underdog that he is. I love that story. Man, I get so worked up when I talk about Survivor! I wish I had that same passion with anything else.

February 19. Mom slipped and had to be rushed to the nearest ER. Good thing there were no fractures and she was fine. I guess we can thank the fats for that? LOL

February 21 ‘til 23. WEEKEND STAYCATION! I needed this! Drinking at the hotel taproom with a live band? YES! Indian for lunch and surf-and-turf buffet for dinner? YES YES YES! That lamb chops, MY LORD. Thank you.

February 29. Leap Day. I started journaling again.

March. FUCKING COVID.

March 16. The Start of the Lockdown we all come to love now (punk, sarcasm).

March 17. Politics is so taboo to discuss especially over dinner. But then BAM. I had a major fight with my dad (and by major, I mean MAJOR in a get-out-of-the-house-in-the-middle-of-the-pandemic kind of major). It was basically about a comment he made that’s so misogynistic (towards the Vice President) that I just knew I can’t just let go. It was sooo bad I got all pissed, and when I’m pissed, I can get scary. Maybe it’s the voice or the eyes or both, but the fight got really heated on the verge of getting physical. Which now that I think about it is stupid just because of fucking different political views. Well, I can never get behind the President and they’re huge fans of him and I’ve come to terms with that but it’s just... bleh. I’m not even gonna try to rationalize it because I can’t. It’s just.. disgusting. Oh fucking well.

April. Wander-fucking-lust.

April 1. I started a 30-day Financial Detox which basically meant no unnecessary expenses. No online shopping, no paying for leisure. None. It was April Fools, but I was dead-set on saving! (Spoiler alert: I failed.)

April 6. Meltdown. I just really couldn’t hold it in anymore.

April 11. Dad’s birthday. After not talking for over a month (which is no easy feat in a tiny condominium unit), we acknowledged each other’s presence. By April 15, it’s like nothing happened anymore. He even gave me a home haircut (which for a beginner, is pretty good). On other news, I started watching The Politician on Netflix and t’was the day I started obsessing on Ben Platt and his music.

April 16. A year ago, I was enjoying sidewalk pho and almost making friends at Cu Chi Tunnels and the Saigon Skydeck of the Bitexco Financial Tower in Ho Chi Minh. Damn, covid.

April 18. That crazy border-crossing from Saigon to Phnom Penh a year ago. That was fulfilling. Damn, covid.

April 19. A year ago, I was experiencing sunrise at Angkor Wat. Wander-fucking-lust UGH.

April 30. That Town Hall shoutout from our company’s President because of reaching my quota from last month. That really felt good. As much as I hate to admit it, I like being validated from time to time. It definitely meant a lot especially coming from her who took a chance on me. I was patting my back.

MAY. Endure. Let Go.

May 14. KING TONY WON. Very well-deserved win. A disappointment of a season if you ask me, but props to the king for dominating an all-winners season. Respect for that. Also Natalie and Michele played great games as well and they should be very proud of themselves. I feel like a proud father to these winners HAHAHA!

May 16. Was pleasantly surprised with Dead to Me. That car scene between Jen and Judy on that ninth episode from the second season? Damn. That’s one of the few moments I teared up because of a TV show. That was powerful. All that tension building up and then that sudden release? I really felt that.

May 26. Why do I always feel all this fucking rage inside of me? I try to think of any triggers but I can’t seem to find one that’s actually reasonable. It’s like the isolation getting the best of me. I initially thought quarantine’s going to be a cakewalk for an introvert like myself, but it wasn’t the case. I feel like I’m losing my shit because I was stripped off of the usual things I have access to whenever I feel uneasy and anxious and angry like this. Endure, let go, I know. But it’s so much easier said than done, right?

JUNE. Breathe.

June 12. So the plan to sell the condo and find a new place is real. We went to this great place in Valenzuela and it was a great house and all but I felt weird. Maybe I was having trouble letting go? Maybe it’s just me being averse to change yet again?

June 15. Slept 6am for that How To Get Away With Murder series finale. That speech. VIOLA. Chills all over my body.

June 18. New phone was delivered. That was fast.

June 27. First time visiting the village we moved to. We were checking a different house this time and was already picturing us living there. Still felt weird, but maybe less.

Looking at it now, I realize almost nothing happened in this stretch of months. Pathetic.

JULY. Change (that’s not necessarily good lol)

July 3. The Anti-Terrorism Bill signed. FUCK THE CIRCUS THAT IS THE PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT.

July 10. Doomsday. The ABS-CBN renewal disapproved. FUCK THE CIRCUS THAT IS THE PHILIPPINE GOVERNMENT. Also, that first house we checked was bought this day. First heartbreak.

July 22. Decided to donate to one of my elementary teachers to help finance school supplies for his students in the province. That felt good.

July 24. folklore’s goooood. This is the Taylor Swift sound that I love. (I had to write that down because that was a 2020 highlight to be honest)

AUGUST. Getting older. Again.

August 2. Donated to another cause: to help a really close friend’s mom (who’s a school principal) on financing their students’ lesson modules (they needed more paper so the donation was going to be used to buy more paper). That felt good.

August 3. Started obsessing on Dear Evan Hansen. I mean come on. HOW COME I ONLY KNEW OF THIS NOW?!?! The story, the acting, the soundtrack... it felt like I asked the Lord for a musical for me and he gave this on a silver platter.

August 9. Lasagna, baked sushi, lechon belly, pansit, cake. Weird combination, I know, but that’s me!

August 11. Discovered the Slowly app. Changed my life since then! I’m not even exaggerating. I guess it has to do with feeling extremely lonely amid the pandemic and getting this platform where you can talk to literally anyone while still keeping your anonymity. And it strips you off of instant gratification you’re so used to because you actually have to wait for your letters to be sent and to arrive. A great exercise for patience if you ask me! And since you have to wait, you make your letters longer and more worthwhile. It’s a platform free of judgment which relies heavily on building actual mental and emotional connections. It’s a gift, truly. NOT EXAGGERATING; YES I’M THAT LONELY.

August 23. The house search continued. This time, the South!

August 24. It was my first time watching a Korean drama and I gotta say I get the hype now. Korea makes great stories and they take their time when telling these stories. The story centering about mental health was definitely what got me to try watching It’s Okay to Not Be Okay, but the show’s so much more than that. That was a great watch.

SEPTEMBER. Finally some light?

September 1. Second year anniversary. I still really miss her.

September 5. My cat’s 5th birthday! Of course we had to celebrate for her with baked macaroni and burnt cheesecake.

September 11. Lost uncle. He gave a good fight.

September 19. SENSE8. It’s a show that doesn’t need any explaining. It’s the BEST. I love this cast SO MUCH. I remember thinking if I ever get a tattoo (which is unlikely), I’ll maybe have the title of that Sense8 series finale inked on me. AMOR VINCIT OMNIA. Love conquers all.

September 27. After a series of unfortunate events, we were led to this house on the same village we keep going back to, and the moment we saw it, we were sold. This is going to be our house. And it happened.

OCTOBER. Surprises?

October 6. Hooked up with someone I probably shouldn’t.

October 12. Booked a trip for next year because I’M HOPEFUL AS FUCK.

October 21. Had the best conversation I had in a long time.

October 22. Hooked up with someone I probably shouldn’t.

October 28. Organized a digital event for work. I’m still on the fence whether I’m proud of it or not. It was my first event, and I’ve wanted to do that for a long time. While I enjoyed all the preparation that came with it, from making that tactical marketing plan to coordinating with the organizers and my team, I felt like it was bland. There were lapses here and there and I know that we all tried the best we could, but maybe I just pictured it a little better in my mind? It wasn’t a flawless event and maybe I wanted it to be flawless. But it was fun. I never would’ve imagined me hosting an event, but I did.

NOVEMBER. Decisions.

November 14. So news came and we’re finally moving. The buyer of the condo got approved and it was only a matter of weeks to settle documents and payment and we’re good to go. I had mixed feelings about it. It took me back to that time we started looking for houses. I wasn’t exactly ready to let go of the place I grew with for the past five years. And I wasn’t also ready to let go of the convenience, and the relationships I only have started building with friends I found along the way. But at that moment I knew I had to be happy because they were happy. My family was happy. I knew I have to be happy.

November 21. Started all the packing. Packing meant decluttering and reminiscing, so letting go of more things which was overwhelming at first, but inevitable.

November 23. I had something checked in the hospital, and something happened and it wasn’t supposed to go that way but it did and it was so fucking bizarre lol

November 28. HAPPY MOVING DAY. It’s that day of the year. Stress was off the charts because of the time constraint and frankly, the lack of preparedness. Good thing a few people helped us with the rest of the packing. It was an impossible task for me and my sister alone so we were glad we got all the help we needed. I did most of the heavy lifting, so I had bruises all over my body for weeks, but after all was said and done, it felt surreal. Felt like everything coming full circle. That first night in the new home? I’ll never forget that. That was special.

December. The end of an era.

December 2. I went back to the condo to stay for a few more days. Get to feel the place one last time. Also lost a huge deal at work to a competitor. I usually really get depressed with these losses, but for some reason I felt indifferent about it. I guess it was my mind telling me I’ve mentally checked out of work already? That maybe it is really time to move on to something that’ll make me care about what I do again? Make me feel again?

December 4. Met someone (who we can call the Professor) I’ve been talking to for a while now. We’ve had some really great conversations leading to this night; talks at 3AM that’s kind of liberating? I was upfront about the moving and that I only have a few days left in the place which is probably why it happened. Professor was also upfront about leaving the country in a few months for an opportunity to work and do research in Japan for five fucking years. It was awkward at first; but we eventually warmed up to each other and spent the night together.

December 5. Things escalated pretty quickly. The Professor gave me a shower (that was weird but I was feeling it and I thought it was sweet and sexy?). We cuddled until we slept and there was breakfast prepared when I woke up. I don’t usually get to experience this kind of stuff so I really appreciated that. I was feeling it. I thought I can get used to this! I left the place and was invited back again so I stayed over for another night. We’ve had a few more interesting conversations. I was not expecting some of the things we discussed especially the talk about long-distance relationships. The Professor asked me what I think about it and I was honest; I’m not against it but it’s not something I’ll take a chance on if I wasn’t sure about it. Mantra’s always been connection first before commitment. I’m not the “take a leap of faith” kind-of guy; I needed to be sure. Or at the very least be really mentally and emotionally connected with the person. I thought that made perfect sense. I still do.

December 6. So it was finally goodbye. Me and my sister went to the nearest church to donate a few clothes and shoes and to attend a mass. Bid farewell to the Professor too and promised each other to keep in touch. I also had an awkward encounter with my sister’s “friend” who she sneaked in the condo for God knows what for. Pretty sure they did the nasty.

December 13. We went to our old house (the one I spent my younger years in) to get a few stuff for the new house. I only really wanted to get my old bicycle because I want to be biking regularly for the next year. I want to take that fitness journey seriously! So I got the bike and I got to spend some time with some childhood friends. Good stuff.

December 15. A teammate resigned at work. The funny thing is he did it after getting that 13th month bonus HAHAHA! I can’t blame him though after learning about the salary he gets when he’s performing three functions in the team. That’s insane. But it really made me wonder: am I still in this for the long haul? Or do I move on too?

December 17. So I had my work desk and wardrobe delivered. Felt so nice buying things for my room!

December 19. We got a new dog! Another French Bulldog. He’s pretty sweet. Someone’s not happy! (MY MOM)

December 22. And then this happened. We were supposed to meet after my dentist appointment (which I only used as an excuse to meet and I thought that was obvious) but the Professor never showed up. I waited for FIVE FREAKIN HOURS. I had like clothes with me because we agreed I sleepover but FUCK. Good thing a friend kept me company, but that was horrible. I thought YOU NEVER DO THAT TO ANYONE. I deserve better.

December 24. We had our house blessed. It was all super spontaneous; we invited a few friends and relatives over and had an intimate gathering. Mom got emotional (AGAIN).

December 27. So Ms. Preggy (from February - oooh that rhymed) had her son baptized. Since she lives a little father from the city, we decided to have a little staycation with some friends there too. The-Now-Bestie and Work Son was there, and we had beer and homecooked food and a slew of great conversations to cap off the year.

Also December 27. I knew I needed to get something off my chest. And I just had to say it.

“You’re so unfair. You shouldn’t have done that. Gave me false hopes. Gave me a “3-day trial period” only to disappear without any warning. Made promises you never intended to keep. You could’ve just told me you’re not interested anymore and I would’ve been fine with that but instead, you ghosted me. For the past few weeks since that weekend, it never seemed like you wanted to get to know me better. Or even just keep the communication going. It’s been one-sided and I wonder: has it always been this way? Maybe I’m remembering things differently. I told you I like you and I meant that. I’m still wrapping around my head why and how it happened to be honest. Maybe it’s that weekend? Maybe it’s the conversations leading up to when we first met? I don’t know. But things changed after that and I should ask you for an explanation but it’s really not the point. The point is I thought we can work something out and you hurt me. You may feel like you’re running out of time because of Japan but it’s no excuse to do that to anyone, really. You seem so sure about what you want so I hope you get whatever that is. Merry Christmas. Thanks for the memories.”

That was intense.

December 28. The Professor responded. “I apologize... I am getting attached... I had to “ponder on its implications to me in the long run”... I decided to slow down... It hurts... “That weekend that we met felt like I knew you before”... I am afraid... “You have no idea how hard it is to leave everything behind every 4-5 fucking years not because I wanted it but because I have to”... I still hope to continue whatever we have... “I will always remember you. Please don’t forget about me.”... YADA YADA YADA.

I know. You know me. I try to empathize as much as possible. But I mean, come on. These are things I already know. It’s not what I needed to hear.

December 31. I needed to say something one last time. There’s already a lot of uncertainties in the world with COVID and life and everything else. I knew I needed answers; I want the binary. I want the black or white for this one. I’m not taking the gray with me next year. So I asked the following questions:

“What do you want from me? Do you want to be friends? Or we stick with occasional catching up on Viber every once in a while (because that’s what it sounds like to me)?”

“What do you want to get from your last two months here? What are you looking for? Just make the most “fun’? Or look for something that will stick?”

“Have you told me anything you really didn’t mean?”

“That one time we talked about long-distance, were you asking me?”

Fast forward to now: I never got the answer I needed. I guess this is one of those rare occasions where no answer is the answer. And after a few weeks of contemplating about it, I am leaving it behind in 2020.

I’m actually at peace with that.

So there you have it. The suck-fest that is 2020. The first month of the new year wasn’t so bad. I feel this great energy. This year’s going to be different. I did tell you that this letter’s perfect timing. That’s because I’ve resigned and I’m moving on. A friend told me a while ago that he’s proud of me for finally taking action. The 2018 version of myself wouldn’t have done what I did and he was happy for me. I wanted a clean slate and I took it. That I was finally taking ownership of my life.

I was elated. My friend usually spoils me with compliments and encouragement and my ever reliable negative self-image tend to disagree with him but for the first time in a very long time, it felt right. I’m not usually excited for New Years, but I guess I am?

I say bring it on, 2021.

Until then,

Patheticwithanem

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imacrowcawcaw · 4 years

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Eyes of Juniper Ch. 1 (A Metallica Fic)

Ao3 Link

Author (as known on Various sites): Lady Lover- Rockfic, Luluthechoosingcrow - AO3, theladylovingcrow - Deviantart and Wattpad, @sammy_bluebells - Instagram, @imacrowcawcaw - main Tumblr, @insannywestan - Sanny shipping Tumblr Pairing: Lars Ulrich/James Hetfield, Kirk Hammett/Cliff Burton, Lars/Female Character (briefly), Lars/Male Character (kinda, more just awkward one sided flirting then Lars gets rescued by his knight in a ratty Motorhead shirt) Fandom: Metallica Tags/warnings: Sex-swap AU, early 80s era 'tallica, smut, gay smut, also het smut since the whole gender switch thing, drinking and alcohol, lots of cussing and profanity, should warn that Lars goes into detail about taking a piss cuz ya know it's new to him, Idk I'll add tags per chapter as I think of shit

Notes:

1. Okay, so I spent like months thinking about whether to do this or not. On the one hand, yes this has so much potential to be fun (and I've seen some other sex swap stories i like). On the other hand, a lot of the whole sex/Gender swap thing is really stereotypical gender shit and goes against what I personally believe. But, creative juices won out and I'll try to keep true to character as much as possible while also making this funny and not too misogynistic (if that's possible).

2. This is a work in progress! I started it a year and a half ago, and now a friend is helping me continue

3. This story is inspired by the song 'Jewel of the Summertime' by Audioslave (on their album Revelations) I love this song and it is awesome you should totally go listen to it.

4. The witch-lady is inspired by Aine, Celtic goddess of love, summer, wealth, and sovereignty. I literally just googled 'goddess of love' then scrolled through a list to find someone other than Aphrodite (don't get me wrong I love Greek mythology but it just wasn't right for this fic) and came across this girl. I only did a quick Wikipedia read, I'm not planning on going too heavy into her myth and more just using her for the plot but.... If anybody is more well versed in Celtic mythology and I seem to get something wrong, please feel free to comment and I'll try my best to make it accurate!

5. Woo damn that was a lot of stuff, I don't blame you if you didn't bother reading it. Now, on with the show!

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1984 (Lars' POV)

The first thing I felt when I woke up was this odd sense of.... well, just something being fuckin' off. Like I was missing something, but also like I had gained something? I felt like a brand-new person, although in my gut I was still me.... Man, I must have had WAY too much Jager last night, it's fucking with my head.

I slowly peeled the itchy fleece blanket off of my body and rolled onto the floor, which was about a foot from the bare mattress. We really needed to invest in some sheets, especially if we wanted to keep bringing chicks back to the house. Apparently, most girls are not at all impressed by stained, lumpy mattresses with almost no bedding on them.

Speaking of girls and mattresses, didn't I bring one home last night? I raised my head slightly from its position from the threadbare carpet and looked at the bed, trying to see if Anna (Was that her name?) was still there. Yep, there was a naked hippy still passed out in my bed, sweet!

I groaned quietly as I stood and shuffled my way out the door and down the hall to the bathroom. It was then I noticed that I didn't really have the usual alcohol-and-early-morning-and-piss induced erection, but my bladder was still straining. Huh, weird.

Whatever. I just wanted to pee, get rid of that feeling in my gut, and get that dead possum taste out of my mouth. Pushing open the door and wincing as the creaky hinges screeched through my headache, I pulled down my boxers and reached for my dick.... What the fuck?

WHAT THE FUCK?

WHERE WAS MY MOTHERFUCKIN DICK?!

Trying not to panic, I looked down, squeezing my eyes shut for a moment so I wouldn't have to see right away. But, of course, that kind of defeated the purpose of looking down, so I opened them again. No dick. The hell was going on?

Taking a deep, calming breath, I tried to think through this rationally. My dick, for whatever reason, was not where it was supposed to be. But, my bladder was still full and begging to be released, so obviously my system or whatever was still working. That need to pee was turning into a burning pain, so I tried to come up with a solution. If I don't have a cock, then I can piss through....what, exactly? Is there anything down there at all? What is even going on!?

Pulling in another deep breath through my nose, I let it hiss out between clenched teeth as I slowly, so slowly, touched my fingers to my abdomen and moved them downwards, dreading what I would find. Annnnnd....... Yep, there it was.

Velvety soft lips, slick, pungent juices; anatomy I knew so well but never, EVER expected to feel on myself. My crisis would have to wait a minute, though, 'cause my bladder was going to explode and no dick be damned I needed to do something about it.

Gingerly sitting my ass down on the toilet (god, so weird sitting down just to piss) I tried to slowly let it out. The feeling was...well there was certainly relief of the pressure, but it also felt strange in a way I couldn't really describe. I could possibly get used to it, not that I'm planning on staying like this or anything.

Cringing as I wiped, I slowly pulled the boxers back up to my hips that I just now noticed were a little wider than usual. And my hands, were they smaller? Softer? My chest too....HOLY SHIT I HAVE BOOBS! That, I might be able to get used to.

I turned to the mirror, and was quite shocked at what I saw. There was a girl standing there, with large, doe-like green eyes staring back at me from underneath brown bangs. She had a nice tan on her upper body, although her breasts were still pale where she clutched at them, small rosy nipples poking through her fingers. A pair of black cotton boxers stretched tight around the small curve of her hips, but hung loose around her milky thighs that almost touched. And this...this chick was me. ME.

Shaking my head, I splashed some water onto my face and rubbed my eyes, hoping it was just a fucked up dream. No such luck.

I was considering hiding in the bathroom forever, because no way in hell could I let the guys see me like this, let alone figure out how to explain, when I heard a scream. It sounded a lot like Kirk's voice, so I pushed my problems to the back of my head and ran into the hallway, stopping dead in my tracks at what I saw.

Anna, or whatever her name was, stood at the top of the stairs, dressed in flowing black robes with green Celtic designs all over them. She had jewels and charms hanging from her waist, wrists, neck, and ears, each tinkling as she tossed some sort of... Powder onto a very shocked looking Kirk. Or at least, I was pretty sure it was Kirk. He (she?) seemed to be in the same boat as me as far as bodies were concerned at the moment.

With a final dusting of powder, witchy-chick turned to me and smirked. "I hope you learn your lesson, I'll be back in a week. And as for you...." She turned to Kirk, "Well, you're just too damn cute! I couldn't resist seeing what a pretty girl you'd make!"

"This is your fault? You bitch! " I yelled. "Why the hell did you do this to us? Who are you? Change us back, then get the fuck out! I don't wanna be a damn girl, and neither does Kirk!" God this was fucking insane, that chick was crazy!

She hissed at me, eyes flashing in a way that could not be human. "Now you listen, GIRL. You'll stay like this for as long as I deem fit. You need to learn some respect for women, and being one is the best way to do that. I suppose you don't remember what you did last night?" She asked, looking bored and ready lo go fuck up someone else's life.

I thought hard, then it came creeping back to me. The bar, the Jager, the flirting with a group of girls, copping a feel and getting slapped, then her changing her mind and coming home with me, talking dirty in her ear, then unworldly sex, her whispering what sounded like a spell in my ear as I came... Holy shit.

"Is this about me grabbing your ass? I'm sorry! Please don't do this!" I begged, finally starting to let the situation sink in and desperation set. This could not be happening.

"Hmph," she snorted, "Begging isn't going to get you anywhere. I've seen humans beg for much less, and they still didn't get it. No, you'll love your life as a woman for a week, both of you, and hopefully you'll come to realize the struggles and terror that comes with it. If you've learned your lessons and are truly sorry, then you will be turned back. If not... Well you'll just have to stay like this until you do."

And just like that, she turned with a flourish and disappeared into thin air. My morning could not get any crazier, I was sure if it. But, because I wasn't actually sure and was suddenly doubting all logical occurrences in the world, I knocked on the wooden railing. That done, I turned towards Kirk.

He (seriously, do I call us he's or she's now? This is so fucked up) was shaking like a leaf, looking like he'd fall over any moment. I went over to grab him, calm him down, something.

"Shh shh, it's all right, Kirk," I muttered in his ear, awkwardly patting his back. I never thought I'd need to, but it really fucking sucks I can't comfort him any better than this. It was like this sour feeling in my chest that nestled in right next to my heart, whispering how awful I was at this and how he's probably mad at me for getting him into this situation.

Before I could ask him if he wanted to punt me out of a window, though, I heard some shuffling and talking coming from downstairs. James and Cliff were headed up here. As much as I wanted to hide for a week until my fuckin' "lesson" was up, I couldn't exactly drag Kirk into the hall closet in his current state, so I stood my ground.

"Hey, ladies, we do appreciate the service you've done our ugly ass friends, but could you keep the cat fight down until you've left the house?"

Ah, James, the man still didn't know how to talk to women after all this time. He was either too shy to form a sentence, or he put on this macho bravado that turned him into a drink asshole. Either way, this lady was not pleased.

By now I guess the guys had reached the landing Kirk and I were at and saw me hugging him, because Cliff chimed in, "Aww, they've made up! Good! Now, can I ask what exactly you two were telling about so loudly that it woke me and my boy James up? Did Lars do something?"

My back straightened at that, and I turned my head to him indignantly. "I did fucking not!" I retorted, even though apparently this whole situation was my fault. No need for them to know that, though.

"Holy shit, Lars!?!" James screamed.

I sighed. "Hi, Jamie."

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Chapter 2

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whitehotharlots · 4 years

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Sea of cowards

Subservience is the American default. I am tempted, at times, to criticize conservatives by making a simple observation: they are boot-licking cowards. This would be an ineffective line of attack, as all the conservative would have to do in response is point out the manifest cowardice of liberals. I’d say Do you really think Donald Trump is going to fight for you? Don’t you know he brags about making money by ripping off people like you? To wit, the conservative could respond simply with What about Obama? Do you honestly think he does not despise you, that he wouldn’t have loved to gut social services even further so that a humanistic parasite such as yourself would die off and clean up the gene pool? Honestly… touche.

Our political differences stem from the manners in which we are cognizant of our own subservience, that is, the type of dissonance we deploy to convince ourselves that, actually, we’re not cowards, we are good boys and girls who are being treated good and therefore we should suppress the desire to burn down the whole fucking system. Conservatives embrace a bizarre sense of authenticity that regards the worship of authority as a form of rebellion. I’m an outlaw, they say, which is why I love cops and my boss. When they find themselves on this outs of this world order--if they get arrested or fired, or if they come down with black lung at age 48 after working in a mine for 30 years and then go bankrupt within a month--they can rationalize this as either a personal failing or a defect caused by the menacing presence of outsiders. “The cop was just doing his job,” or “Mr. McGrath would’ve loved to give us decent healthcare, but the damn union made it too hard.” And so they suffer and die more or less quietly, physically hurting only those close to them, expressing their hatred through petty spasms and empty threats.

Liberals--again, no less subservient--tend to wield a bit more conscious control over their dissonance. They know the world is broken and terrifying, but they come to this realization in manner that exempts themselves from their complicity by virtue of their being aware of it. Every liberal believes themself to be one of the few people who truly gets it. And because they possess such rarified wisdom, their presence within these systems of exploitation and brutalization is rationalized into a positive, because even though they may be profiting from it their self-aware presence automatically serves to make it less bad. The pengs of guilt thus rationalized away, they can proceed to immerse themselves in a culture of booze brunches and standing desks, blaming any personal or professional failures on one or other social inequities that most likely don’t actually apply to them.

We see this split in the reactions toward Greta Thunberg, a 17-year-old climate activist who was recently named Time’s person of the year. Conservatives regard Greta with profane violence: Ben Garrison drew that sexually sadistic cartoon that’s at the top of this piece. Gentler conservative voices (those drawing a paycheck from a cable news network) have likewise threatened to spank her, or suggest she’s in need of firm discipline, or something else along these lines. Meanwhile, run of the mill conservatives adorn their pickups with stickers suggesting that they’d like to see the girl raped and killed.

These displays are disgusting and should be condemned. The liberal press, however, deeply misunderstands them, suggesting that they stem from a conservative inability to understand the seriousness of Thunberg’s message, their refusal to be spoken down to by a woman, etc. In reality, the opposite is true: the conservatives react to Thunberg with such profane violence because they actually do take her seriously, viewing her as one of the troublemaking outsiders whom they blame for their personal hardships. If anyone doesn’t take Thunberg seriously, it’s the liberals who profess to admire her.

Thunberg has received effusive praise from all the liberal individuals and institutions who have most profited off the acceleration of climate change. Barack Obama--a man who referred to himself as “the fracking president” and ordered federal troops to assault and arrest Indigenous water protectors--met with Greta personally, praised her bravery, and told her that she and he were on the same team. Can you think of anything more condescending? If the President did not assume she’d see immediately through his bullshit, he must think very little of her.

I don’t want this to come down a simple comparison: who’s worse, someone who openly hates you and announces as much, or someone who hates you only quietly while pretending to respect you? This question comes down to personal preference and is ultimately immaterial.

What I want to highlight is how liberalism’s preferred form of dissonance serves to create these tragic heroes--people like Greta, Malala Yousafzai, or the Dreamers. These people are all victims-turned-activists, and they were all victimized by disarray caused primarily by the United States and perpetuated under our bipartisan ideological consensus. Thunberg, like everyone else her age, will not get to live a full life due to the impending ravages of climate change. Malala was shot in the face by members of the Taliban, which would almost certainly not have had a presence in Pakistan were it not for decades of American meddling. And, most cynically, the Dreamers are a small, exalted caste of undocumented young people who Obama sheltered from the effects of a deportation regime that he himself designed.

This is liberalism’s mechanism for ensuring conformity and punishing those who attempt to reform its more brutal aspects. You don’t like how many people we’re deporting? Well tough shit; keep voting for us or it’ll get even worse, they’ll even deport the lovable ones that we were kind enough to spare. Malala and Greta, meanwhile, are given a bridge to join the liberal horde, the true elite, those who are making things much, much worse but it’s not bad because they’re totally aware of it. Pointedly, both girls’ politics fall far to the left of what’s considered acceptable in American discourse--for this they should be admired. But their effect upon the system is the same regardless of whether or not they join the blob: Barack and Michelle smile, Trump and Pence sneer, and the apocalyptic consensus continues to gain momentum.

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emberfrostlovesloki · 4 years

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To Be Held Chapter 3 - Shooting at Dorian Grey’s

Here is chapter three. I’m glad that some of you are liking this project so far. Thanks for reading thus far.

Chapter 3 warning: Descriptions of an active shooter and profanity.

“The unsub, or unknown subject, is male. Age 30 to 55. He is an extreme perfectionist. He holds a grudge against many possible groups including, sex workers, homosexuals, progressive groups. This unsub is escalating his time frame. This most likely means that he has a list of people that he’s killing, and he is getting close to the end of that list. We need to mobilize and start looking for possible subjects before this man finishes his list and disappears.” The officers in the room finished writing down what they needed and Chief Best stepped forward saying, “squad one and two I want you looking for offenders of sex crimes in the area, squad three I need you to look for offenders of hate crimes, and squad five I need you to look for domestic terrorists. Look for men who have attacked Planned Parenthood clinics, or progressive student organizations on campus.” All of the officers got up and moved to their respective groups and started grabbing files and clicking away on the police database. While this was happening Chief Best approached the team and said, “I know you may have leads, but there’s a lot of cases based on those descriptions. These squads could use your brains and eyes.” Morgan chuckled and replied, “Reid, that sounds like a task for you.” Before Spencer could jump up and start reading a mile a minute Gideon held up his hand. Jason thought about who needed to do what and then said, “Spencer, before you go to the squad with the most case files, I need you to read over this report on the forensic evidence from the scene. J.J. I need you and Chief Best to hold that press conference. It might keep the unsub from moving forward with their list. Now Morgan, Hotch, let’s get on those case files.

By the time J.J. had finished the press conference with Chief Best, worked through a stack of fifty case files on domestic terrorists in Seattle, and narrowing down those case files the day had slipped away and it had grown dark outside. The police officers had changed shifts and there were less officers who worked the night shift. The team had finally narrowed down fifteen unsubs. Gideon had ordered Chinese food from a local restaurant for the team and while the five agents ate they discussed who was most likely the unsub from their final list. Meanwhile, at a bar twenty miles away Venus Rising was showing up for her first engagement of the night.

The atmosphere in the dressing room was lively that night. Trisha leaned over to Venus and said, “So I heard the feds are on the case. I hope they pin down and strangle whatever freak got Syd.” Levi bit her lip and brushed Dr. Reid’s card, as she was fishing for her lipstick in her crossbody bag. Hill didn’t think it was a good idea to tell Trisha that she had been visited in her office by two of the agents she was talking about. Levi rationalized overthinking such a simple decision by thinking, ‘After all, Trish did almost tell a client my name once. She’s not the greatest confidant.’ Levi sighed and finally found her lipstick and turned to Trisha saying, “I’m sure they’re working really hard on it.” Another woman, who was very tall, and wore the highest of heels wrapped her arm around Levi’s shoulders and said seductively to both Hill and Trisha, “And if the FBI can’t find this freak, we’ll do it ourselves. Afterall we are a couple of bad bitches.” The Amazonian sized women had spoken loud enough that the four other women in the room had heard the statement. There was silence for a moment in the small room, and then everyone burst out laughing. Levi was laughing so hard that she had a hard time breathing, but finally had enough air in her lungs to reply, “Kate, although I love your work voice, it does not have the same impact while making threatening statements.” The other escorts, Evolynn Star, Lor, Vixxen Wiccan, and Starlight laughed at Levi’s retort. Levi had been working with this group of escort for a year and they were all very kind women who were just trying to make ends meet. The friendly atmosphere was necessary for their line of work. Although Kate was trying to lighten the mood before their first jobs of the evening, she could see that after the laughter had ceased the same sad looks came over them all. Grief at the death of the friend. Before Levi could think to much more about Sdyney’s murder Lor said, “It’s time to make some money girls,” Levi took a quick look at her phone and saw the time 9:00 P.M., quickly checked her makeup and wig and got up and walked out of the changing room and into the luxury bar. Her normal client was waiting for her at a table.

After the first clients had left at 11:00 the escorts had a thirty minute break between their next engagements. Vixxen was telling Venus about how her brother was planning his engagement to his girlfriend. Levi had a few questions and asked, “Where is he planning on making the proposal?” Vixxen replied excitedly, “Disneyland. I know it’s cheesy, but that’s where they had their first date. I’m so excited for him.” Levi smiled and said, “I don’t think that’s cheesy at all. It sounds very romantic.” Vixxen was about to tell Levi about all of the minor details but was cut off by Kate who asked Levi, “I’m going out back for a smoke. Do you want one?” The professor responded, “You know I gave up smoking Kate. But I’ll stand outside with you if you like.” Kate nodded. Hill got up and accompanied her to the back alley, right outside of the bar. All the escorts had been more cautious after the murder. No one wanted to go out by themselves and it was understandable why. Kate took a deep drag of the cigarette and blew the noxious smoke into the cool night air. Levi watched as Kate paced up and down the alley, a habit the tall women had when she was stressed. As Kate was walking back in Levi’s direction a screeching sound echoed down the alleyway. Before the two women could react a van came racing down the narrow road. Kate jumped to the side of the alley and made a splash as she fell into a puddle. As the van neared Kate the passenger side door opened and a figure in black reached out and grabbed at the downed woman. The van had slowed and Kate struggled to fend off her assailant, who was attempting to get her in the van. Venus saw all of this and shouted as loudly as she could, “FIRE!” Levi ran toward the masked figures leaning outside of the van door. The professor got nicked on the shin as the open van door passed by her. She grabbed onto Kate and pulled as hard she could. She grunted with the effort she put in. Although it felt like an eternity, it only took ten seconds for the other escorts to come out to the alley. They all started screaming once they saw what was happening. Trisha ran toward the van while Lor ran inside to get help from Kyle the bouncer. Once the figure in the van knew they had been seen the car quickly picked up speed. Kate and Levi got dragged about two feet before they were let go. Before the van sped out onto the main street, which was only three feet away at that point, the figure leaning out the door pulled out a gun and shot in the escorts directions.

Spencer rubbed his eyes. His head was so full of victims and unsubs and floating pieces of information. The doctor startled when his phone rang. He pulled the device and didn’t recognize the number. He clicked the accept button and put it to his ear saying, “Dr. Reid here.” The rest of the team looked at the genius and wondered why he was getting called so late at night. His face paled to a whiter shade and he said, “Stay where you are, are the police on the way?” The rest of the team was on the edge of their seats and Morgan, who had very astute hearing could hear a shaky, “yes,’ on the other end of the line. Reid said, “I’m not my way now.” Before closing his phone and standing, the young man’s joints were angry at the rapid change of position. Spencer looked at the team and said, “Professor Hill and another escort were almost kidnapped during a break between clients. One of the escorts is shot.” The whole team jumped at this and was out the door following Spencer to the cars. Hotchern shouted at Reid, “What club are we going to?” Spencer shouted back, “Dorian Grey’s, on the north side of town.” Three car doors slammed and the team raced toward the scene.

As the team rolled up to the bar, they could see the lights of police cars and an ambulance at the scene. Hotchner took point and as the team unloaded from the cars said, “Elle, J.J. go talk to the EMT’s and the shooting victim if she’s still here. Get her information so we can follow up later tonight. Ried and Gideon go talk to Ms. Hill, and Morgan and I will talk to the witnesses at the bar.” The teams split up and moved in the direction they needed to go to accomplish their task. Spencer and Jason moved into the bar looking for Levi. Spencer noticed a group of officers standing next to an area that was curtained off from the rest of the bar and pointed it out to Gideon. They walked toward the area and approached one of the officers. Gideon asked one of the police force, “Is Ms. Hill in there?” The officer nodded and said, “Yes, we’ve just taken a statement from her.” Jason nodded, and Spencer pulled out his badge to show that they were allowed in to see her. “Please send us a copy of your report,” said Spencer as he and Jason walked through the curtain. Levi was sitting on the ground. She was holding her legs to her chest. Gideon could see she was shaking, probably from shock. However she could just be cold, afterall she wasn’t wearing anything apart from some lingerie and a mesh corset. She was talking to other women who also dressed scantily. The other two women were seated with criss crossed legs speaking encouraging words to the girl in shock. Reid caught one of the statements as, “Levi, you did everything you could. Kate’s probably alive because of you.” Gideon cleared his throat and all of the ladies heads whipped in his and Spencer’s direction. Spencer, who was still holding his badge, presented it two the other two women. Lor and Trisha stood up and Lor said, “We’ll give you a moment alone. We’ll be right outside if you need anything.” Lor looked from Hill to Gideon and both girls brushed past the two men. As they left Trisha pulled the long wig she wore off her head and leaned in saying something unheard to Lor.

Spencer sat down on the ground across from Levi, while Gideon pulled one of the chairs from the wall and sat down with a light huff. Levi looked at Spencer and said, “Hello again Dr. Reid.” She attempted to sound calm, but the strain in her voice was apparent. She looked up to Jason. Spencer saw Levi looking at Gideon and quickly said, “Um, this is agent Gideon. He’s on the team with me.” Hill nodded and said haltingly, “I-it’s nice to meet you agent Gideon.” “It’s nice to meet you too Professor Hill. Are you cold?” Gideon asked. He always tried to make people feel comfortable with him. And with themselves. If he was going to force a person to relive a traumatic event, he at least wanted to make them feel comfortable with him. She replied, “Um. i-i don’t know.” Spencer had already realized she was in shock and was upset that the EMT’s had just let her back into the building without noticing her mental distress. He slipped off the green sweater he was wearing and leaned forward, slipping it over her shoulder. The Dr. said, “Here, take this,” while he did so. Levi puller the sweater tighter over her shoulders and felt the warmth from it sink into her body. She took a breath and relaxed, just a little for the first time that evening. Gideon noticed the relaxation and brought up the main topic that they needed to speak about, saying, “If you’re able, would you come outside to the alley with us and tell us what happened tonight. Just walk us through it.” Levi bit her lip and asked, “Do we have to talk out there?” Spencer spoke up saying, “It’s shown in 73% of studies that witnesses of a crime can remember the details better if they’re in the place that the crime took place.” Levi shifted her legs under her and said, “Alright.” Spencer quickly stood and offered his hand out to her which she took and stood up. Spencer now noticed that she had a tattoo of a sword down the length of her left leg. When he had offered his jacket up to her he had noticed her arms and torsoed were permanently inked, a fact that he had been unaware of during his visit to her office, because at that time she was wearing more consertative clothes. “The door that Kate and I left through was through the dressing room.” Levi said, as she attempted to reach the top of the door frame that was farther back in the room. She was very close to reaching it top of the frame, but even with high heels on she was not able to get her fingers above the jamb. Spencer, however, easily skimmed over the lip of the door and felt the edges of a cold metal key. He grabbed it and handed it to Levi. “Thank you,” she said as she slid the key into the lock of the door and turned the key. Before she opened the door she knocked and asked, “Evolynn, Jane, Star, are you in there, decent?” There was a muffled response through the door, “Yeah, Levi, I’m in here. I’m dressed; you can come in.” Levi turned the knob to the door and entered the room, Spencer and Gideon followed. Star was pulling her purse over her shoulder and smiled at Levi when she came in. Star went up to her and said, “Hey’ I’m headed out for the night. Call me if you need anything. See ya tomorrow.” “Thanks, you’re the best. Would you put the key back?” Levi said, holding out the key to the room. Star smiled and laughed and replied, “Yeah of course shorty.” At this response Levi rolled her eyes and scoffed, while dropping the key into her friends hand. After Star had left the room the trio walked out the door into the alley.

While Spencer and Gideon were checking up on Levi, Elle and J.J. ran toward the ambulance. J.J. began talking to the EMT’s immeantly, while Elle flashed her badge to one of the ambulance drivers and then walked up to the open ambulance doors. Inside sat Kate. A white bandage was wrapped around her upper right arm, and she was wrapped in an orange shock blanket. As Elle approached her she said, “Hello Kate, my name is Elle Greenaway, and I’m an agent with the FBI.” Kate pulled the blanket closer to her body and looked at Elle for a moment and said, “Do you want me to repeat my statement Elle?” The FBI agent was taken aback by Kate’s tone, but before she could say anything Kate continued, “I’m sorry. I’m just so tired. I don’t have money to pay for an operation to take this fucking bullet out of my arm and I hate all my clients. So I don’t mean to take that out on you, I just want a hard drink and a nap.” Elle felt bad for what Kate was going through, but she needed as much of the information while it was still fresh in the escorts mind. Therefore Greenaway replied, “I’ll make this quick as possible. I really need to know what you remember about the person that tried to pull you inside the van. Kate replied dryly, “I can tell you that they weren’t very strong. They were really struggling to pull me into that car. And then Levi, who doesn’t weigh more than a hundred and ten pounds comes in like a badass and with her help they dropped us. They wore a facemask and had really blue eyes. Like piercing blue eyes.” Kate shrugged at the image Then continued, “That’s really all I can think of. Except, there was a weird smell in the van, like iron or something.” “That’s very useful information. Thank you Kate,” Elle said. Just as agent Greenaway had finished getting Kate’s information, J.J. called out to her saying, “Elle, we need to get going. The ambulance needs to get to the hospital.” Elle replied, “Yeah, I’m coming.” The anget jumped out of the ambulance and the EMT’s shut the back doors, jumped into the cab and turned on the lights and sirens. As the vehicle raced away the only thing Elle could think about was how this event was going to hurt Kate in the long run.

Inside the bar Derek and Hotchner were talking to the owner of Dorian Grey’s. He was a middle aged balding man and he was very agreeable. Derek had just asked, “So, Mr. Thomas, have you noticed any strange activity in the area over the past few weeks? For example have you had to throw out clients, specifically those who hire the women who work here?” Mr. Thomas replied, “I haven’t noticed anything out of the usual. At least not in the last three weeks. There are always a few guys who get too drunk, or are assholes and they think they can do whatever they want with the escorts, but often one of the ladies will come up to me and tell me about it, and I kick that customer out.” Hotchner followed up the man’s statement by saying, “Would you be willing to show us the back alley and the security measures you have in place for the women?” Thomas said of course and led the agents out to the alley way. As they stepped into the cool air, the owner stated, “This building was built in the 1920’s. At the time it was a bank and it was on the outskirts of town. The richer members of the town would use this bank because it was less likely to draw attention to them and their wealth. In the 50’s and 60’s business moved to the center of town and this place was left abandoned. A couple of other businesses tried to use this land, the last of which was a restaurant. When I bought the building I tried to bring back some of that former history. I renovated the property and added this alley that connects to the road ten years ago.” After hearing this Derek understood a bit more about the history of the place. He had thought, ‘This place is so far out of town, why would it be a destination?’ The owner continued, “When we hired more staff we needed to add a place for them to enter through the back, thus this alley was paved.” The man showed Morgan and Hotch the back door and the security camera that were installed there. Thomas said, “Only the employees and I have the keys to this back door. I’ve got the footage of this camera and the camera in the bar in my office.” Hotchner replied, “We need to see that footage Mr. Thomas.” Thomas nodded and responded, “Of course follow me.” As they walked back toward the door it swung open and Reid, Gideon and Levi walked out. Derek took a moment to look over the professor that Dr. Reid had talked about and was impressed. He thought she was very pretty, a fact that he would not say out loud; he also noticed that she was wearing Reid’s sweater, a fact he stored away for later use.

Gideon, Spencer and Levi took the place of Mr. Thomas, Aaron, and Morgan. The professor turned to Reid and said, “I got to work at 8: 45 and worked my first job from 9: 00 to 10: 30. At 10: 30 we all get a thirty minute break between clients. Well, Kate wanted to have a smoke so I went out here with her.” Before she continued her story Spencer asked the clarifying question, “Around what time was this?” Levi thought for a moment and replied, “around 10: 40. Kate was walking up and down the road. As she was walking back toward me to go back inside I could hear a car’s tires nearby. And then a black van came rushing down the street. Someone tried to grab Kate out of the road and into the cab. I screamed something and ran toward her to help.” Ms. Hill paused for a moment reliving the scene. She pictured running toward the van. It was speeding forward. The licence plate came into view and she remembered a few sequences on the plate. Gideon spoke up saying calmly, “Ms. Hill, are you alright.” The girl stammered out, “The p-plate, i’ve got some numbers.” Reid quickly pulled out his legal pad and a pen and wrote down the sequence as she said, “It’s, it’s GH73 and there’s a 2 in there somewhere.” “That’s amazing,” Reid said, while lowering the paper. Hill continued, “I grabbed onto Kate and then the van sped up. They dropped us when we were by the garbage bins. She walked toward the containers she was talking about. She leaned down and picked up a red high heel that belonged to Kate. The girl brushed the bandage on her left left, which had been bruised badly while being dragged down the road at 40MPH. She stood up and held the shoe protectively to her chest for a minute. After a few seconds in this position a wave of nausea passed over her and she bent down and vomited on the pavement. She dry heaved for a moment after the contents of her stomach had landed unceremoniously on the asphalt. Reid and Gidoen rushed the four feet of distance to her. Jason leaned down and extended his hand. Levi grabbed it and stood upright feeling dizzy. Spencer reached into his pocket and found a clean tissue and handed it to the professor. She wiped the outside of her mouth and crumpled the tissue in her hand. “I’m sorry,” she said, not wanting to make eye contact with either man. Gideon placed a reassuring hand behind her back and said, “There’s no need to apologize, you’ve been through something very frightening tonight. Let’s go back inside, out of the cold.” The older man guided the girl back to the door. When they got inside Jason helped Venus into a chair by the bar. Spencer went behind the bar and grabbed a glass and filled it from the sink. The genius handed it to Levi saying, “Here you go.” The woman slid her hand through her short hair. As she did this she wondered when she had taken off the shoulder length black wig. She didn’t remember taking it off. She pushed the thought aside and took a drink of the water. Once the acrid taste of bile was gone she said, “Thank you Dr. Reid.” Unknown to either Reid or Hill, Derek was on the other side of the room observing them. Spencer stepped over when Gideon came to be by Levi. Jason crouched down to be at eye level with her. He said, “Ms. Hill, I’ve called in a protective detail for you and Ms, Kingsley. When you’re ready to leave just tell the officer over there that you want to go home. They can keep you safe.” Levi felt relieved that Kate was going to be looked after, she was also grateful that she could at least attempt to sleep tonight. She processed the information. Gideon continued the conversation by saying, “I’m going to ask you to do something that may be difficult Ms. Hill. I need you to continue living like nothing happened tonight, Can you do that for me?” Levi took a deep breath and nodded yes.

The team had bagged all the evidence, interviewed the witnesses, acquired the footage from the security cameras and made sure the police would wrap up everything else that needed to happen at the scene. It was 1:30 A.M. and just now were they headed back to their hotel. Derek, Reid and Elle were in the same car. Derek turned to look at Spencer who was in the back seat and said, “Nice move with the sweater Reid, I see you’re upping your game.” Spencer looked confused until he got the implication and restored, “Uh, she was in shock. And she was probably cold, you saw her.” Reid didn’t comment on Levi’s clothing that night, but Derek did say, “You bet I did.” Reid rolled his eyes and scoffed, waiting for the awkwardness to leave the car. At the hotel each member of the team headed to their rooms. They all had tasks to finish as soon as possible. As the youngest member of the team was unlocking his room Gideon walked up to him and said, “You did good tonight Spencer.” Reid turned, surprised at the compliment. He replied, “Do you think it’s a good idea to just let Hill keep living normally?” Gideon’s face went dark and he replied, “Until Garcia gets us some information on those plates, we don’t have much. It’s likely the Ms. Hill will be targeted next.” The realization hit Spencer suddenly and he said harsher than he ment, “You’re using her as bait!” Gideon could only respond with, “Let’s bag this son of a bitch before he gets a chance.” Spencer folded his arms over his chest and looked at his boss, not knowing how to feel about putting an innocent person’s life on the line for this case. Gideon finalized the conversation by saying, “I want you to stay with the young professor tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll see more than officer Anderson, if there is a threat on her life.” Spencer wanted to say something but stopped himself. Instead he said, “Alright. Goodnight.” The genius turned and opened his door, switched on the light and closed the door. Gideon moved down the hall to his own room. This case was taking a toll on Spencer and he knew it. He just didn’t know why yet.

#criminal minds #j.j #dr #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid #derek morgan #elle greenaway #aaron hotchner #jason gideon #fanfcition #new chapter

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poshvalentine · 4 years

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Criticizing in a respectful way, without using profanity and derogatory terms, when and where is absolutely necessary for people to listen now equals hate and trolling? Jesus Christ, that anon is not older than 15. What an ignorant thinking... it's a shame really. Props to you for answering to everyone, especially the ones who are rational and smart, not just anons who suck up to their faves because they glorify everything they do.

It’s an unfortunate situation but I am not gonna sit here and turn the other way, if people don’t understand or see where we are coming then it’s clear they don’t see the bigger picture either. No need to thank me 🥺

#anon #me

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im-fairly-whitty · 6 years

Text

Hermanos -- Coco Villain!au

Hey guys! It’s been a while since the finale of the villain!au. Miguel is getting the care he needs and Enrique is getting some much needed rest, Ruy has been spending time with Iria on her side of the afterlife while he recuperates and everything is generally blessedly calm.

Except things never end that cleanly, not when there’s been literal decades of turmoil to repair. The Rivera family at large has been undergoing some serious upheaval. Teto and Matty is doing his best to rebrand the family charities and foundations as being separate from their now disgraced parents while Teto does most of the heavy lifting with PR and finances.

Ruy meanwhile has been characteristically absent and trying to ignore the growingly obvious unaddressed issues that still lie between him and real happiness, instead content to distract himself with Iria’s company while he recovers.

But Teto isn’t one to leave jobs half finished, and even though he’s spent nearly the last century feuding with his younger brother, he knows this may be his only chance to try reconnecting with him, and that it’s his older sibling duty to at least try. Even if he’d rather die again.

Here’s part 1 of a 2-part special for the villain!au, it’s a dig into the two youngest Riveras and their brotherly relationship, so enjoy. The Iria and Ruy POV are written by @slusheeduck , and the Teto POV is written by me.

Part 1

“You know, I’m sure if we just sent flowers by mail there would actually be a higher chance of emotional repair.” Teto said, scratching the back of his head as he looked at the door of the house where his younger brother had reportedly been staying for the last couple of months.

Ever since the disaster.

“And we would have to pay triple for shipping.” Jasmine said with an ironic little smile, “Wouldn’t want that, would we?”

“Hilarious.” Teto said, rolling his eyes, “But if I get punched in the face let the record show that this was your idea.”

“It’ll all be over in a few minutes anyway.” Jasmine said, kissing his cheek, “And we both know it’s the right thing to do.”

Teto sighed, holding her hand more tightly. Everything about this was strange, the real fresh flowers he was holding, seeing Jasmine young and alive looking again, but mostly him about to voluntarily speak to Rodrigo.

Well. Pride was a dish best eaten quickly.

Teto let go of his wife’s hand just long enough to rap loudly on the door.

The knock rang loud enough to be heard through the whole house. Ruy, as usual, let out a grumble of protest as he threw an arm across Iria’s lap.

“Don’t,” he mumbled against her skirt, clearly very content to keep using her lap as a pillow. “They can come back.”

He looked up just in time to catch Iria roll her eyes, though the act was softened as her fingers ran through his hair.

“You do this every time there’s a knock.”

“I just got you back, Estrella. I shouldn’t have to share you yet.”

Iria pressed her lips together, then let a breath out through her nose before she pushed his bangs back to look at him. “Look, it’s someone I expected. Please, honey, if you could be a dear for just two minutes and open the door?”

Rodrigo’s brow furrowed. “If you are the one expecting them, why would you want me to open the door?” he asked slowly. “Most of your friends on this side still look at me funny.”

Iria gave him a small, tight smile. “They’re not from this side.”

Ruy’s eyebrows rose, and his face brightened. Ah, so it must be one of his friends coming to say hello. Probably not Seba--he wouldn’t be so sneaky--but Tonio would. Or Paloma, or Cheque--Cheque would definitely be this sneaky. He pulled himself up, scrunching his face at the stiffness in his torso as he did. The majority of his injuries had fully healed, but he still wasn’t quite at one hundred percent. He really ought to talk to the person in charge of this side.

Ah, but that didn’t matter. He gave Iria a sweet, quick kiss before getting to his feet and making his way to the door. It’d be nice, seeing someone from his side. As much as he didn’t want to go back just yet, there were still some skulls he missed. So, once he reached the door, he stretched out his back, ruffled his hair, and opened the door with an excited grin.

The grin immediately died as he saw his least favorite person in the entire world on the doorstep, and, with only one spat-out profanity as a greeting, slammed the door right in Teto’s stupid face.

“Well, we tried.” Teto said, an entirely unexpected chuckle escaping him.

Ruy’s reaction had been laughably predictable, and now he was off the hook. He’d come, he’d tried, and now he could leave.

“Not yet.” Jasmine said, catching his sleeve as he turned to go and knocking on the door again.

“We’re closed.”

Iria had been sitting on the edge of her seat as Ruy went to the door, and she sighed as she heard the door slam and the snarled out snark. She’d...figured it’d go like this. And, honestly, she wasn’t all that keen on having Teto of all people here to see him. But...well, his wife had sounded surprisingly rational for a Rivera--even one that had married-in--and she’d raised a good point about the two at least making an attempt to reconcile after...everything.

She got to her feet and made her way out to the foyer, wincing as Ruy turned and gave her a look of complete betrayal.

“You were expecting them?”

She held up her hands. “Listen, honey, I…”

“He made my life hell for twenty-three years, Rita! And that’s not even counting all the years of him judging me at the welcoming parties!”

“I know, Ruy, I know.” She stepped forward, cupping Ruy’s face and brushing her thumb against his cheek. “But...look, his wife and I talked…”

“Like she’s any better than him.”

“Listen. She said he’s...a little in shock, after everything that happened. He just wants to talk, and if things go south, both Jasmine and I will end it right away.”

Ruy’s jaw set, eyes hardening as he stared at nothing in particular over her shoulder. This was the very last thing he wanted, especially after what had happened. He didn’t want to let any Rivera into his last safety net, much less the one he’d fought with for so long.

“Ruy?”

Iria’s question was followed by another knock at the door. He grimaced, then looked down at her.

“You promise we can kick him out if he does anything awful?”

“Yes.”

Ruy huffed out a breath, then took her hand and quickly kissed the palm, though his eyes were still hard as he lifted them to look at her.

“Anything. I mean it,” he said, then let go of her hand and took a deep breath. He set his hand on the doorknob, hesitating until he felt Iria’s hand land on his shoulder. He set his face into as emotionless an expression as he could, then let out the breath as he opened the door again.

“Jasmine, he doesn’t want to see me. Let’s just leave.” Teto said, taking her hand.

“You both need this.” Jasmine said, shaking her head and resolutely refusing to let him pull her down the steps, “And Iria agrees. This is for both of you.”

“You called ahead?” Teto asked, grimacing.

“Of course I called ahead, idiot.” Jasmine said, yanking him back, “Now please stop acting like a child.”

Teto whined but dutifully stood behind her, pulling on his best disinterested face as the door opened again.

His mask nearly broke as he got his first good look at his brother.

He looked...clean.

Aside from looking alive, just like he had before he’d died, Rodrigo actually looked put together. Clean tasteful clothes, clear eyes, even his hair looked like it had been cut.

He looked uncomfortably like the Rodrigo that had lived in Mexico with them. Not the Rodrigo that had spiraled into madness, taking the family name with him. Whatever had happened to him in the last few months, it honestly looked as though he had fared the best of any of the Riveras.

And there standing behind him was the mystery woman who must have done it, Iria. He’d never heard of her before he’d started asking around a few weeks ago to track Rodrigo down. Apparently, she was some old flame of Rodrigo’s from back in New York he’d never cared to write home about. Teto had assumed she must be some tramp...but when faced with her handiwork he could already feel his respect for her rise exponentially.

“Rodrigo...” he said, keeping his face neutral as he floundered for words. “You, uh, you look good.”

Rodrigo rolled his eyes. “And you look like a cabron, as usual. Thanks for the visit, don’t come back.” He started to close the door, but Iria caught him.

“Ruy.” There was a definite note of surprise in Iria’s voice as she stopped him from shutting the door. She’d heard horror stories about Teto, certainly, but...well, she’d never seen him be actively unfriendly. With anyone.

Well, unless they deserved it.

Even so, maybe that was a better reason for them to have this talk. At the very least, she could find out what had made Ruy hate his brother so much. She looked up and gave her best ambassador smile. “Come on right inside. Let’s have our talk somewhere besides the front porch.”

Teto glanced at Jasmine.

I didn’t expect to get this far.

She raised an eyebrow back at him as she stepped into the doorway first.

Well think fast, dear. She seemed to be saying.

Teto nodded to Iria as he entered her home, which was very tastefully designed and decorated, and joined Jasmine on one of the parlor sofas that Iria had motioned them towards.

As they made their way back to the sitting room, Ruy huffed as he grabbed a poncho haphazardly draped on the stair bannister, pulling it over his head as he entered the room. He gave a cool glance toward Teto and his wife, then walked over to where Iria had sat and threw himself down beside her. While normally he would find some way to maintain contact with her, this time he simply crossed his arms beneath the poncho and sank down into his seat, sending a dark stare Teto’s way.

Iria glanced over at him, still reeling from the way he was acting, then shook her head and turned her attention back to Teto. Better to get this over quickly so she could get her normal Ruy back. “So...there was something you wanted to say? That’s why you’re here, yes?”

“I...yes.” Teto said, looking at the flowers in his lap.

Jasmine put her hand on his knee and he glanced at her gratefully. He took a steadying breath and looked at Rodrigo, who had seemingly materialized one of his ridiculous woolen ponchos out of thin air when he hadn’t been looking.

“There’s not really any way to say this easily I suppose.” Teto said, recalling the phrases he’d practiced in the mirror that morning on the off-chance that they did end up talking, “But with everything that’s happened I thought it was my responsibility to reach out to you. With...everything that’s happened...we wanted to let you know that we don’t stand with our parent’s...choices. If we’d known anything about all that we would have left the mansion much earlier.”

He leaned forward, setting the bouquet of flowers they’d brought on the coffee table between them.

“I’m really sorry for what happened Rodrigo,” he said, sitting back again, taking Jasmine’s hand in his, “None of this should have happened, I think we’re all still processing it. I know I’m not welcome here, but...I didn’t want to just leave it unsaid. I guess.”

Jasmine squeezed his hand in approval as he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. He’d said what he needed to. Now he just had to weather whatever Rodrigo threw at him without lashing back at him, and then he and Jasmine would be able to escape for good.

Ruy kept his gaze fixed on Teto, jaw clenched tightly as his brother spoke. He let out a long breath through his nose once Teto finished. Clearly he thought he was doing Ruy a great favor here. What an arrogant prick.

“So….what? Am I supposed to forgive you?” he asked, acid in each word. “You only apologized for the things you didn’t do. Que generoso! What a kind brother I have, saying sorry for what other people did.” He narrowed his eyes. “Look, you may not have splintered my arm or killed a kid, but you’re just as bad as everyone else in that family. So stop pretending you have the high ground and head back to them.”

Iria stared at Ruy as he spat his response to Teto’s apology, and she quickly took his arm as she noticed the way his shoulders trembled--with anger, she realized. She pulled his hand into hers and threaded her fingers through his, swallowing as he squeezed it tightly in a silent plea to help keep him grounded. Almost immediately, she put on a cool expression as she looked up to Teto and Jasmine, ready to push them out if Teto fought back too hard.

“If you had actually listened,” Teto said, showing his teeth in a false smile, “then you would have heard that I haven’t apologized for anything, hermano. A lot of bad has been done by a lot of people, but not by me.”

It had been a while since he’d actually spoken face to face with Rodrigo, he’d forgotten just how aggravatingly thick he was. All temper, no brains. The worst part was that Teto knew he could be intelligent if he wanted to. He just never seemed to want to.

Jasmine’s hand was still in his, but she wasn’t showing any sign of him having gone too far. Rodrigo had misconstrued what he’d said and now he was fixing it. Teto wasn’t the one being confrontational and abrasive. As usual.

A sharp, harsh laugh burst out of Ruy at Teto’s words. “Not by you! Oh, sure, of course not. You’re the model son. You’ve always done right by everyone.” He tilted his head toward Iria, but kept his gaze on Teto. “You know what his favorite nickname was for me while we were growing up, Rita? Accident. And you know who gave every new member of the family a crash course on the Rivera black sheep and what a disappointment he was? I’ll give you three guesses.”

Iria bit her lip, then squeezed Ruy’s hand to bring his attention back to her. While nothing she was seeing was making her any more keen on his brother, Ruy getting worked up would be good for exactly no one’s sake. It took one soft, “Ruy,” to get him to finally turn his attention back to her. His expression was still sharp, his body still tense, but he softened ever so slightly as he fixed his eyes on her face.

“Alright.” Teto sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, “So the grand tally of my earth-shattering grievances against you are being a good son, a fight we had when I was nine years old, and having to be the one to explain why the youngest child of the family was an alcoholic addict that had drained our parent’s bank account, sullied the family name in the papers with outrageous stunts, had broken our mother’s heart, driven our father to madness, traipsed off to the United States without a second glance, left scar on my face, and left us all behind without a single phone call or letter for the three years it took him to drive himself off a bridge.”

Teto looked up at Rodrigo, surprised to realize that there was no anger inside him at that moment, just very very tightly wound exhaustion, decades of it, rising to the surface.

“So tell me Rodrigo.” he said, his voice tired and stiff, “What part of that is my fault. Where did I wrong you. Where are the lies I told. I didn’t have to slander your name Rodrigo, all I could do was try to keep your own self-sabotage from bleeding back to Mexico to stain the rest of us.”

Ruy pulled his hand away from Iria’s to point sharply at Teto. “Do not blame me for whatever happened to Papa,” he said through his teeth. “He made it very clear that I was no son of his, even before he died.” He sank back in his seat, crossing his arms as he looked off to the side. “And don’t pull the concerned son act. None of you even wanted to hear from me once I left. You probably thought my dip into the bay was the best thing that could have happened to the family.”

Now Teto was angry.

“Why does everything have to be about you?” he said, his voice rising, heat flushing through him, “Why do you always have to be so dense? Why do you always need all the attention, all the spotlight? You don’t exist in some kind of vacuum Rodrigo, your actions? They actually affected other people, I know it must sound crazy to you.

“But guess who had to do all the social damage control once you left? Matty. Guess who had to keep the family together? Coco. Guess who had to talk Mama out of her depression when she would stare at the wall for hours without moving because you’d just left and hadn’t called. Guess who had to face Papa roaming the house listlessly for days because his favorite son, who by the way was the only one who had ever been the son he wanted, had run off and gotten himself killed. Because it wasn’t you Rodrigo. It was the rest of us who had to try and find a way to hold our family together after you shattered our parents.”

Teto didn't remember getting to his feet, but he was standing now, shouting down at Rodrigo as the words spilled from his mouth, leaving an acrid burning taste behind.

“It didn’t even matter that you’d done everything possible to hurt our parents, because their golden musical child of course would be better someday, of course Rodrigo would come back, of course precious Ruy didn’t mean it and would someday return the triumphant prodigal son. You never had to do anything Rodrigo, because our parents didn’t have the sense to cut you off before you cut yourself off, because you were their only son that even mattered.”

Ruy sank back into the seat, eyes wide as Teto’s voice steadily rose and even cringing back once he got to his feet. He stayed completely still as the accusations spilled out of Teto--even if he’d wanted to get a word in edgewise, there was no way he’d be able to. He didn’t even move once Teto finished, too much in shock after hearing his ever-cool-headed brother be emotional.

Iria sat still during Teto’s accusations as well, but she quickly took Ruy’s arm again as barb after barb flew at him. Right now, it didn’t matter if what he said was true or not; it was too soon after everything that had happened to be having this sort of confrontation. “Look,” she said once Teto went quiet. “I think it’s time for you to le--”

She trailed off as Ruy let out a strange noise, and looked up at him as his head tilted back before he started to laugh. He covered his eyes as he laughed almost hysterically, shaking his head.

“Ayy, Teto, I didn’t think you could be funny,” he said as he wiped his eyes. “Me? The favorite? Que gracioso!” He shook his head again, his last few laughs turning bitter. “They didn’t mourn me. They mourned the musical son they wished they’d had. There’s a reason Papa only put up that damn first magazine cover on my grave; that was the last time I tried to get him to look, to listen to what I did. And after all that, what did he do? He sent a telegram saying ‘Sorry, Ruy, couldn’t make it’ after the debut I begged him to come to.”

He let his head fall forward for a moment, then let out another bitter laugh. “But my brother. Why can’t you be more like him, Ruy? Why can’t you be like the perfect son that we actually wanted to have? The smart one, the war hero, the one who has a lovely family and rolls over every time we ask him to?” He lifted his head to stare up at Teto, mouth in a hard line. “There was definitely a favorite son, but it wasn’t me.”

Teto stared at him, shoulders still shaking slightly from his shouting.

He tried to find any trace of sarcasm in Rodrigo’s face, any sign that he knew what he was saying was absolutely ridiculous, that he wasn’t that dumb.

But it wasn’t there. Rodrigo truly believed that he had been wronged, not only that, but that he hadn’t been the golden sunshine child of the family that had drained the life out of their parents, leaving the rest of his siblings with only shells.

There were so many things Teto could say that he found himself speechless, the words clogged up behind a barricade of emotion inside him.

“I can’t do this.” he said hoarsely, turning to Jasmine, “I, I can’t. I can’t do this one Jasmine.”

She stood, her mouth a hard line as she looked pityingly at Rodrigo. They both could see how deep this ran and neither of them knew what to say.

Ruy let his head fall back against the sofa, staring up at the ceiling. “Wish you could’ve been there when they crossed over. You probably would’ve loved seeing that. Leti convinced me to come see them, and the looks on their faces. It was like they’d forgotten who I was, and they’d expected to see that pendejo on the front of that damn magazine--all starry-eyed and desperate for Papa’s approval.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “The very first word out of his mouth was ‘Rodrigo,’’ he said, doing his best impersonation of his father’s disappointed tone. “Like I was just some kid who’d tracked mud into the house.” He pressed his lips together and idly rubbed his cheek. “I hadn’t even done anything yet and I was still the family disappointment. Definitely wasn’t like the hero’s welcome you got.”

“So Papa missed your stupid concert. The one concert.” Teto said, the barest edge of a hiss back in his voice, “And that was the end of your world? He missed your debut concert, you knew he was a literal celebrity with a freakishly busy schedule, and that one time you couldn’t manage to get his attention, the one time you were ignored, that is what tipped you into your spiral of self-destruction? You’re even more pitiful than I thought.

“I guess one missed concert sure is enough to erase all those hundreds of hours he spent with you on his lap learned the piano or guitar or whatever else was going to be your freakish prodigy accomplishment of the week that he could go brag to everyone about. I guess two hours of missed concert sure erases all the nights he would stay up late crowing over your scribbles on lined paper, or him constantly taking you on private outings to concerts and performances, and press conferences and parties and literally anywhere else that he could show you off to whoever would possibly listen.”

Teto squinted at Rodrigo, actual childhood hate coming back to him. “You want to talk about being ignored? Alright, let’s talk about being ignored. First of all, imagine never being called your real name, because it was a cheap copy of your father’s. Second, did you ever stop to think for one instant how much time Papa spent with me? He never took me out with him anywhere. Not once. Not once Rodrigo. I hate music. It’s never made sense to me, it gives me migraines, and that made me unlovable to Papa, all he knows is music and your blasted bones are made of it. I don’t remember a single time that he was ever interested in my projects, not a single time I had a real conversation with him about something I loved.

“I grew up thinking that maybe if I was perfect then maybe he would love me back, I went into business because that’s what Mama did and he loved her. I hate business, but I did it anyway. And guess what, it still didn’t work. I enlisted because it was the right thing to do, and when I got back it was to a press conference, not Papa’s love. He wasn’t proud of me Rodrigo, he was proud to show me off. So don’t you dare try to tell me I was the favorite son, don’t you dare talk to me about being ignored. I did everything I could to keep from being forgotten and failed, you did everything you could to be ignored and failed even then.”

There was something wrong with his throat. It felt like it was closing up, making him choke on his words, and he was really shaking now. Something was in his eyes, he wiped at them with the back of his sleeve, wet marks left behind on the fabric.

Ruy once again froze as he stared at his brother, but this time for an entirely different reason. This was...wrong. Teto didn’t cry. Teto didn’t have emotions, and he definitely didn’t show them. He was logical, he was calm; he was the polar opposite of Ruy. And seeing him start to break down left a sick feeling in Rodrigo’s stomach. He couldn’t bring himself to move or speak for a very long moment, until finally he shook his head slowly.

You’re...an idiot,” he breathed, eyes wide. “You had all the freedom in the world. You could have done anything. And you threw it away because you wanted his love?”

“You already had his love, why were you so eager to throw it away?” Teto said, rubbing his eyes. He felt Jasmine’s hand on his shoulder.

“Because it wasn’t worth all the effort to keep it!” The words were almost a snap, but too incredulous to keep any of the sting. “You thought he showed you off? What do you think happened on all of those concerts he brought me to? I was always goaded into playing whatever I’d been writing or even making stuff up on the spot. And I kept performing, I kept writing songs he would like so that he would keep loving me.”

Ruy sat up straight, running his hands through his hair. “Do you even remember what I was like when I went to school? Every day, every hour I was terrified of doing something Papa wouldn’t like. That I’d get that Rodrigo again like I had growing up. He liked me plenty when I did music, but everything else? I was just disappointing him over and over.

“But I kept thinking, if I work hard, if I show him that I love music the same way he does, he won’t stop loving me. My first concerto? It’s Papa’s song. It’s everything I knew he would love. That’s why I begged him to come. That’s why I needed him to be there. Because I didn’t know what I would do if Papa decided that even my music wasn’t worth his time anymore.”

Ruy blinked, feeling his eyes sting, and he leaned forward as he looked up at Teto. “You could have gotten out from under his shadow. You could have been your own person without even trying. And you didn’t. That’s your own fault, not mine.”

“I did, Rodrigo.” Teto said, blinking hard as he looked down at him. He put an arm around Jasmine’s waist, pulling her to his side. “I cut my losses. I stopped performing for him when I got back from the war. I knew it was a losing game, but I didn't make others suffer for it. I married Jasmine, she’s my whole world, we have children and grandchildren and great and great-great grandchildren. Everything Papa did to me I made sure I never did to my children. I was in business, but I made the best of it.

“Papa rarely gives me the time of day, but I knew that family was still important, and that I still needed to be there to support our siblings and parents so that the next generations could be provided for and safe and happy. Jasmine and I have an entire legacy Rodrigo, we’re not perfect, but we’ve done the very best with what we had, love or no love. We didn’t let it rule our lives. Or afterlives.”

He took a shaking breath. “So why did you have to punish the entire family when you realized you were losing?”

Ruy flinched as Teto spoke about marrying Jasmine and the grand family they had, an awkward chill running between him and Iria even as she rubbed his back. Maybe that would have saved him--and the family, too. Or it would have made him just like Teto. Which was the worse option?

He wilted in his seat as Teto shot another accusatory question at him, and he pressed the base of his hand to his forehead as he stayed silent. It wasn’t fair, having all the family problems foisted on him--Teto clearly didn’t understand the immense pressure that came from being the “favorite” (please), and he was just trying to blame him for everything, as usual. He let out a soft whine as he shifted, still keeping his head down.

“I just wanted it to stop,” he whispered. “Just for a little bit. Just to get some peace.”

“And did it work? After all that, did you find peace?” Teto asked, feeling calmer just from having Jasmine against him.

Seeing Rodrigo this close to admitting that maybe he wasn’t right, that maybe he had messed up, it was surreal. Seeing him as anything other than sarcastic and raging hadn’t happened in decades.

He wondered for the first time how much Iria must have hurt when his brother had died.

Did it work? No, no. Nothing had worked. Nothing had made things stop, not even his death. And he’d even driven off the best thing in his life when he’d frantically tried to find some peace without her. No matter what he’d tried, he hadn’t been good enough. Not for Papa, not for Rita…

He tried to hold off on touching Iria much while his brother was here--a part of him still fearful that any show of how much she meant to him would make his family ruin things--but the wave of utter failure that hit him was too much, and he turned to bury his face in her shoulder with a soft, begging “Estrella.” She was still here. She hadn’t stopped loving him. Not yet.

Iria blinked as Ruy threw himself at her, hands automatically going to stroke his hair. She pressed her lips together as he held her tightly--as if she’d disappear--then looked up at Teto and Jasmine coolly.

“This would probably be a good time for you both to leave,” she said softly as Ruy’s face pressed against her neck.

“Iria, thank you again for allowing us in your home,” Teto said, feeling a surreal sense of calm, not taking his eyes off Rodrigo, “but I’m not leaving until my brother can give me a real answer. He’s an idiot but he’s not an imbecile. I know he’s better than this, and I want to know why he hasn’t chosen to live up to his own potential yet.”

“Really, I’m going to need you to--”

“You try it!”

Iria went silent as Ruy pushed himself up, trembling as he snarled out the words with glistening eyes. He sucked in several breaths, blinking rapidly as he stared up at Teto.

“You try it,” he repeated, pushing himself up to his feet. “You try having the entire Rivera family legacy on your shoulders. You try being told again and again and again that you’re so talented, but your recent work...eh, not that great. You try--”

“I’m not talking about music Rodrigo,” Teto interrupted sharply, “I’m talking about you. I don’t care about your concertos or your symphonies or whatever you wrote or didn’t write. I don’t care what Papa told you or didn’t tell you. I’m talking about you.”

“My music is all I have!” Rodrigo snarled, stepping forward to get into Teto’s face.

“What about her?” Teto snapped.

He pointed at Iria.

“What about her Rodrigo? What’s more important? Your precious music or the woman you loved and who loved you? Did you let your own disappointments get between you and what should have mattered more?”

“You leave her out of it. I never wanted any of you to find out about her and this is why.” He took several breaths, then set his jaw as he stared up at his brother, quickly swiping at his eyes. “I...I…”

“I don’t appreciate being used like this,” Iria said tersely as she got to her feet. As she set a hand on Ruy’s arm, she looked up at Teto with a hard stare. “You don’t know our history. You don’t know how we got to where we are now, and trying to use me as a...a crowbar to get whatever confession you’re looking for out of Rodrigo is not appreciated.” She let out a short breath as she rubbed Ruy’s arm, then sent another frown to Teto. “I asked you politely to leave, Senor Rivera, but if I have to ask again, it won’t be nearly so polite.”

“While I agree that my husband is beginning to be rather blunt,” Jasmine said quietly, looking up at Teto for a moment, “I would respectfully ask that they be allowed to at least reach the end of their conversation. It’s true that we don’t know your history, that’s an unfair assumption to make, but similarly, you don’t know their full history either Mrs. Solares. This is something they’ve been struggling with for nearly a century now, and this is most they’ve spoken in nearly that entire time combined.

“What Hector is trying to say,” Jasmine continued, gently pulling Teto’s arm so that he silently sat down on the couch when she did, “is that it’s been terribly painful for their family to see Rodrigo engage in so many behaviors that are not only destructive to others, but to himself as well. The reason we came was to try and extend an olive branch of sorts, because Rod-, because Ruy has been greatly missed-”

“Don’t call him Ruy,” Iria interrupted.

“My apologies.” Jasmine said calmly, nodding, “because he’s been greatly missed from the family and there’s been so much dysfunctional anger built up over the years on both sides. With everything that’s happened, so many assumptions being overturned and the family at large having to reinvent himself without Hector Sr and Imelda to dictate things, this is the first time it’s felt like there’s been a good chance to reach out.”

“I don’t want-” Teto stopped as Jasmine looked at him warningly, then carefully continued, “My wife is better at these things than I am.” he said, looking at the floor, “What I’m trying-”

“So’s Rita, but she’s not speaking for me,” Ruy said shortly. He puffed a breath through his nose. “Can you just leave?”

“She’s not speaking for me, Rodrigo, Jasmine speaks with me.” Teto said tiredly.

Rodrigo rolled his eyes at Teto’s response, but otherwise remained quiet, eyes narrowed as he listened.

“But alright.” Teto continued, “I’d hoped for a conversation, but evidently I assumed too much to think you were ready for that kind of thing.”

“Thank you for allowing us to visit.” Jasmine said as they both stood, taking Teto’s arm, “We wish you both the best as you...adjust.”

Iria gave them a short nod as Ruy fell back onto the sofa, wilting again. He pressed his lips together, then, before Teto and Jasmine were out of the room, he said, “That potential you were talking about? I did live up to it. And I was miserable. And when I gave up on it, I was still miserable, but at least I wasn’t living someone else’s dream anymore. That’s more than I can say for you.” He shrugged. “But that’s what family’s about, isn’t it? Trying to make the world’s worst father love you when you know he never will.”

“I don’t think you have a dream anymore Rodrigo.” Teto said as he pulled the door open for Jasmine, “As long as you think of your future as either what Papa wants or what he doesn’t want you’ll never be happy.”

And then they stepped out the door, and were gone.

-----------------------

This has been an extremely interesting familial relationship to explore, seeing the same but different traumas affecting siblings differently even into adulthood, and the emotional complexity that comes with trying to repair long burnt bridges.

Part 2 will be posted this Sunday. And don’t worry, this isn’t going to dethrone teacher!au, this is just some role play work that Slush and I have been doing over the last couple months to relax that we’ve finally finished and have finally gotten around to posting.

- Wit

#villain!au #ruy #rodrigo #teto #coco #wit writes #my ocs #and I've loved getting to delve into Teto who is one of my favorite but lesser shown sons

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shellheadtmarc · 5 years

Text

| BASIC INFO

MCU-based.

On October 23, 2077, the Great War finally ended. The nukes were launched, the vaults were shut well below their maximum capacity, and civilization as we know it ended in nuclear hellfire.

The Avenger otherwise known as Iron Man, Tony Stark, was in NYC when the bombs dropped. Instead of finding shelter in a vault, or following through with one of the many contingency plans put in place for just that occurrence, he instead tried to do what he could in the aftermath, where a city full of panicky people rioted and looted after so long of rationing and not enough, trying his best to help keep some kind of order, to prevent those left behind after the vaults closed turning on each other in the worst possible way.

The years kept passing, and while some people became ghouls with the exposure to the massive amounts of radiation and FEV present in everything, and most died, tests run by he and JARVIS confirmed his initial suspicions,that the arc reactor was keeping him alive in more ways than one. And in the end, there ended up being nothing for him to do but wait until the worst of the radiation had passed, bide his time, tinker, and keep an eye out for the first of the vaults to start opening.

Two hundred and some change later, the Brotherhood of Steel, on their way to the Commonwealth, crawl past New York in the Prydwen, and Tony, having adapted to wasteland living and doing his best to initiate and oversee rebuilding efforts (and, in the controlled environment of the NYC wasteland, succeeding to a degree), does what any rational, cagey, paranoid wastelander would do: He suits up and follows them into Boston. Any Hindenburg 2.0 like that with an amassment of vertibirds and power armored personnel isn’t knocking on the door to borrow a cup of sugar, and he’s heard enough rumors about factions in both DC and Boston with passing traders that he figures New York will have to look after New York for a little while (or...JARVIS will have to help New York look after New York, same difference), while he goes and pokes his nose in the Commonwealth’s business.

He touches down north of Fort Hagen (around the abandoned chapel) after the Brotherhood of Steel arrive and set up base at Boston’s old airport, and from Fort Hagen he’ll start his own investigations into the BOS, the Railroad, the Minutemen, and the Institute.

| APPEARANCE

Tony’s a far cry from five hundred dollar haircuts and bespoke suits these days; the wasteland is rough, and he’s had to get rough back. Function takes precedence over fashion, and while he still cleans up fairly well, you’ll never see him like that. His typical uniform is no different than the rest of the wasteland’s, ranging from old flannel and threadbare denim to mechanic coveralls and worn tank tops, all of which are thin enough to let his arc reactor shine through them like a beacon.

Physically, his entire silhouette has changed: He’s probably a lot healthier than the average scavver, simply because he is and was born before the war and due to the arc reactor isn’t prone to some of the genetic troubles and illnesses that plague the wasteland. However, due to the nature of living in the wasteland, where fighting for your life is very often literal, his musculature has changed, and he’s leaner than he was before the war. His face, too, especially shows that, as his cheeks have hollowed out considerably, and he looks entirely more gaunt these days.

His hair runs in two directions: Either he’ll take scissors to it himself (and he’s gotten good at giving himself a trim in an approximation of the hairstyles he’d favored before the war, even if they tend to fall flat with no hair product being available these days) when he has the time, or he lets it grow until he can’t stand it any longer. When it’s longer, he has a habit of pinning it back with bobby pins, which works out just fine for him, because he’s never without one if he needs to pick a lock.

More often than not, he can’t be bothered with his trademark laser-precision facial hair, because shaving takes time these days, and clean water is a resource that can’t be wasted on frivolous pursuits when it’s needed for drinking and cooking. Instead, while he sometimes is seen shaping it back up every so often, he tends to let it grow as it will (and he does do his best to tame it, but, again - who has the time to worry about things like developing beard oil and balm when there’s so much else to be done that’s more important?), or he shaves completely and the process starts all over again. Having trademark facial hair is just one of the many quirks he’s had to let go of in the name of survival.

He’s carrying more obvious scars, other than those around the arc reactor. All those blows to the face and years getting his face banged around in the suit have finally taken their toll, and he’s got a scar that runs the curve of his left brow bone and eye socket, as well as an arch over the bridge of his nose and a permanent one from having his lip split open so many multiple times. He’s usually sporting a black eye or fat lip, because he still runs his mouth, and running from a fight is no longer an option. You should see the other guy, honestly.

| FEV ENHANCEMENT

Tony has never been shy about the idea that physical enhancement is as much part of the game of being Iron Man as the suit is. After all, it’s only a suit, and response times can only be so fast, when there’s always going to be a delay between thought and getting the suit to follow that thought. So, much in the vein of the 616 run for Extremis enhancement, Tony’s...Tinkered on himself. Mostly, stumbling across the same strain of FEV developed in the Institute was sheer luck, and it took years for him to decide it was the route he wanted to go, with innumerable simulations and alternatives ran and checked before he made that leap.

To be clear: He’s not a super mutant, much as 616 Tony was not a true Extremis enhancile. He took the structure of FEV, broke it apart, cut out the parts he didn’t want, added parts he did, and put it all back together before using himself as a guinea pig to see if it’d work. And work it has. He’s a little stronger, yes, but not in a way that matters. He heals a little faster. He regrew himself new organs. But much like with Extremis, he forced it to do what he wanted it to do, which was rewire himself from the inside out, and now when he says ‘the suit and I are one’ he means that. Literally. He wires himself directly into it when needed, and the most crucial components of it hide out in the hollows of his bones.

More importantly, however, he’s only reinforced the length of his lifespan, and upped his metabolism, so now he runs on the hot end of the spectrum. He’s a great bed buddy now in the middle of winter.

Another side effect of the FEV use and rewiring himself includes: Low level technomancy. He can literally interface with some machinery within reason and hack it with his brain. Useful, when you’re up against a bunch of haywire robots and want to turn the tide in your favor by hacking a few but can’t stop shooting and ducking behind things long enough to do it the old fashioned way. It’s limited, though, and not something he necessarily makes a lot of use of unless absolutely necessary.

| WASTELAND SPECIAL

The Wasteland Special is the new FEV-based suit. Well. “New” is relative. Years were spent putting together the perfect one size fits all suit suited for the wasteland and its dangers, as well as combining it with Tony’s FEV enhancements so that he has it at a moment’s notice in the chance a super mutant behemoth decides to induct him into the wasteland space program.

It has an assortment of functions, and while it has a connection to JARVIS, unlike his earlier suits it doesn’t require JARVIS to run its systems, as that’s all done with Tony being directly connected to it himself. JARVIS is, for all practical purposes, more a partner in this venture, and tends to watch Tony’s six.

He doesn’t use it often, and that should be heavily stressed. Iron Man, for all practical purposes, is something from the past. What there remains of him existing before the war - which isn’t much - includes some comic illustrations that show the classic Marvel red and gold (that Fallout aesthetic, you know) not anything like what his suits actually looked like. If he does pull out the Wasteland Special, it means things are bad. Or he’s off for a stroll through the Glowing Sea. A or B. It can also be used piecemeal, much like most of the Iron Man suits. Jet boots for this, gauntlets for that, he’ll do that far more often than the whole shebang, because he likes perching on overpasses that no longer connect to Boston’s highway system to feel tall. Or get a layout of the land. It varies with his mood and whims. Traveling alone at night, that’s typically how he likes to camp, anyway.

For relevant visuals on how it works, see the Extremis run in 2008 Invincible Iron Man and the MCU’s Avengers: Infinity War. It’s a long term solution to the problem of lacking resources, since building suits for every function is no longer a possibility. Yes, it’s still red and gold and lights up in a way that pleases him. His hall of armors is looking a bit bare, because outdated and outmoded suits were broken down for components to build it.

| QUIRKS / HABITS / VOCABULARY

First things first: If you expect Disney dialogue options here, you won’t find them. Tony’s around wastelanders; he lives like them, he talks with them, he’s friends with them. These days his dialogue is as peppered with casual profanity as anyone else’s, because it just seeps in without you realizing it. He was never squeaky clean before, but the wasteland is a whole other ballgame in that respect.

While he’s fairly adapted at this point, his habit of making references to things has never stopped. Unfortunately, unless you’re as much of a prewar relic as he is, or are remarkably knowledgeable about the prewar world, they tend to not make a lot of sense. It’s okay, he makes himself laugh and that’s what’s important. Too, he swaps terms for things interchangeably. A brahmin might be a brahmin in one sentence, and he’ll turn around and call it a cow in the next. People eventually stop, usually, trying to correct him, because he says what he says and he’s standing by it. Yes, he knows brahmin are probably significantly different than a cow now. Still tastes like hamburger.

He will not, under any circumstances, eat Fancy Lads. He will starve before he eats one, he will throw them in the Charles; if he ever even picks up a box he finds scavving, it’s because he’s going to trade them when he gets to a settlement. He thinks they’re horrid. Anything else in the wasteland he can mostly choke down as long he doesn’t think about what he’s eating too hard, including things like bug meats.

Realistically, there’s a lot more littering the wasteland that just what’s shown in game. This includes instant coffee, without a doubt, and it means Tony is 100% caffeine-powered 120% of the time. He hoards it. He’ll trade for it. And he only shares it with people he actually cares about, because it’s more valuable than gold at this point.

If he’s traveling with someone by foot he will not travel at night. The arc reactor is something of a curse and a blessing at this point, because while sure, it keeps him alive, it’s bright, and when all your clothes are threadbare there’s nothing short of wasting resources to cover it. It means at night Tony’s chest becomes a glowing target, and not only does it put himself at risk from raiders and super mutants and everything else that lurks in the wasteland, it puts the other person at risk, as well. That’s not something he’s willing to do if it can at all be helped. He has to be pressed for time or have something more important than the safety of two people on his mind to keep going once the sun hits the horizon. Alone, he can and will just...Fly to wherever he needs to go.

There are even less people left in the world he’ll take things from directly. All others must place things on a surface and let him pick it up himself. This actually has practical applications at this point, with how loosey goosey morality is in the wasteland, which is something Tony really never saw coming, but it makes a peeve a blessing. His own morality has had to join that loose interpretation of ‘good’, as well, because there are groups in all wastelands who will shoot first, loot your corpse later, and having a staunch ‘I will not kill’ attitude will leave you dead.

He’s got something of a traveling handyman vibe in the Commonwealth, where he moves from settlement to settlement because he’s busy collecting info on the various machinations of the different groups present, he’s interested in the state of things, he starts setting up his own settlements to put under Minutemen care once he decides they’re good eggs, and because he’s genuinely curious, and if something needs to be repaired or done while he’s in those settlements, he will. He doesn’t take caps for the work. Tony’s carrying a lot of guilt, about not being able to have much of an influence in stopping the war, and because of that, any money he takes from people he sees as needing it more is blood money. He will, at most, accept slim supplies, like water or food or a stimpak or two; just enough in the way of things to get him to the next place he’s going.

With that, he’s really good at scavenging for what he needs. He had to get that way being on his own in NYC for so long until it was safe enough for people to start trickling back in.

He can always be found with a pocketful of fuses and wire and electrical tape, and various other things he usually has on his person are a small tube of wonderglue, a few pencils and pens, and small pocket-sized grid moleskine missing its bookmark and band (he uses a paperclip as a bookmark and a rubber band to hold it closed, and it’s full of cramped writing because he makes every page count), and other odds and ends.

| AS A COMPANION

Tony does not work via FO4 game mechanics, which sadly needs to be pointed out. He’s got agency and his own shit to do, and while he might roll with someone for a while because it’s nice to have someone to talk to and it’s nice to have someone to watch his back, there are definitely times he splits off to do his own thing. Sometimes he gives warning, sometimes he doesn’t. Regardless of if he does or doesn’t, Tony’s sole purpose isn’t to crawl up the sosu’s ass and stay there. He breaks the trope of his entire existence being centered around them. He came to the Commonwealth with a purpose, and he’s going to complete that purpose. Sometimes that means heading in a different direction than the sosu, and you know, that’s just life, as far as he’s concerned.

He’s also not a companion for every sosu. Institute and BOS aligned people will find him standoffish and...Well. Honestly, kind of mean, once he gets an idea of what those two factions are all about. Siding with the Institute won’t necessarily lock him out as a companion - that’s determined by how canon divergent of a sosu a person is. The same goes for the BOS. However, if at any point the Railroad is wiped out, Tony’s gone. He’s gone, and whoever did it should probably start looking over their shoulder. Expressing sentiments that ghouls, synths, and super mutants deserve death, despite being sentient beings with free will and the ability to reason and form their own opinions will also see him bouncing. He won’t come after you in that case for being an asshole, but he’ll be sure to spread the word.

What. No one ever said Tony Stark wasn’t petty as fuck.

AS A HUGE BIG NEON SIGN FLASHING NOTE: In the event that MacCready was not picked up by the sosu and taken as a companion, and has not been romanced or had his affinity quest completed, Tony is going to directly default to his relationship with @gwinnetts‘s MacCready. This isn’t set in absolute stone, Tony’s not unwooable as a companion, but it’s gotta be hashed out. The reasoning is: If MacCready hasn’t been picked up as a companion by the sosu, Tony will fairly early on in his time in the Commonwealth end up hiring him himself (for information, not as a mercenary) and there is a major rewrite of MacCready’s quest in play there. This can be changed with plotting, but the key word there is that we plot it out. Otherwise Tony and Mac are an item and them’s the breaks.

AS A SECONDARY FLASHY NOTE: If Strong has not been picked up as a companion by the sosu, Tony will also end up going to Trinity Tower to check out the message and will end up taking Strong on and running through his quest for the milk of human kindness with him. In the default, natural course of this verse, Tony and Strong will make their way to Saugus together (sans Mac - Tony makes a home and settlement of the town within Fort Hagen military base, and if someone were to go looking, that’s probably where Mac can be found, if not Fiddler’s Green or wherever else he wants to go, he’s got his own free will and things to do, he and Tony aren’t necessarily attached at the hip) and there Tony’s ends up getting fucked up by the Forged. Strong’s the one that drags his ass out of there, and delivers him to either the Slog or Finch Farm until he can be moved somewhere with better medical facilities. The reason for this is Tony’s a little too slow on the uptake at Saugus and ends up losing an eye and suffering burns to his face (and neck). Eventually he’ll show up with at modified synth-esque replacement that he’ll call a stopgap until he can work up something better. You’ll never lose him in the dark again, between the arc reactor and the new glowy eye.

Tony has a lot to do, so again, he’s not a companion for everyone. Someone that needs to keep their companions close and wants them all in one place will find Tony incredibly frustrating, because he can respect the sosu completely and still not deviate from his own to do list and goals. And if they happen to recognize him (since they’re both prewar relics and he was pretty famous - you might have heard of him?) that shouldn’t come as any surprise whatsoever.

| SETTLEMENTS

Tony, whether he hooks up with the sosu or not, once he allies with the Minutemen will absolutely put any settlements he’s put together under their oversight. It’s a case of he finds a spot that would be good farm land, would be easily defensible, has a lot of resources - something that catches his eye about it - and he’ll spend some time there, getting it set up for habitation and later be the guy you call to get things fixed, but will also put an emphasis on teaching others how to do what he’s doing, because the plan is not to stay in the Commonwealth (he will, he just doesn’t know that yet).

In the main version of this verse, Tony doesn’t touch vanilla settlements unless there are some a sosu hasn’t done anything with. Those he does touch can include:

Croup Manor (pretty non-negotiable if @rahasyamay’s stephen is also in play - stephen lives there) Egret Tours Marina (Either way he’ll poke around there - it ties into his and Mac’s relationship) Finch Farm Greygarden Greentop Nursery Hangman’s Alley Jamaica Plain Murkwater Construction Site Outpost Zimonja Nordhagen Beach (he’ll hang around here anyway to keep an eye on the BOS) Oberland Station Starlight Drive In Taffington Boathouse Abernathy Farm (shared with @gwinnetts’s Zetta if she’s in play) Sunshine Tidings Co-Op (shared with @gwinnetts’s Zetta if she’s in play it’s their vacation home)

Otherwise, he has his own set of settlements, which may include the following:

Fort Hagen (he...literally lives there and it’s where his main lab is) Fiddler’s Green Trailer Estates (actually considered just an extension of Fort Hagen) Natick Power Substation Ryder Rentals Tucker Town (and the overpass - near the rotting mansion) Sanctuary Saloon (tucked in the swamps near Sanctuary) Reeb Marina Norwood Depot (far south a safe distance east from the Glowing Sea) Evan’s Way (near Diamond City) Gunner’s Plaza / GNN Building Wattz Electronics Prospekt Hill Chestnut Hillocks Reservoir Mystic Pines Rest Home Malden (from the Slocum’s Joe HQ, to Medtek, to outside of town) Concord (from the church down the hill, also the large parking lot below the museum into the woods) Andrew Station (to prevent more raiders from moving in) Quincy (shared with @gwinnetts‘s Zetta if she’s in play) South Suffolk Charter School Neponset Park Walden Pond (to keep raiders out) ArcJet (the area surrounding the building) Several piers on the east side of Boston Quincy Lighthouse USS Riptide (to prevent more raiders moving in) Salem (to keep the mirelurks under control)

And anywhere else that catches his eye. To keep this from being twenty miles longer than it already is, each settlement might get its own post, and questions are always welcomed!

| OTHER FACTIONS

Part of Tony’s to-do list in the Commonwealth is checking out the other groups in play, and he forms fairly strong opinions about each one.

Minutemen: He stans. Preston Garvey is an angel and Tony Stark will not even contemplate hearing otherwise. He’s not a joiner, but he does ally himself with them and put the settlements he founds himself under their rounds, and makes himself available to them as needed. Once they get back on their feet, he definitely trusts them to do the right thing, and will advocate they move themselves into a more police force role in the Commonwealth after the main quest endgame. If any Rhodey is in play with a sosu that isn’t interested in being General, will nudge Rhodey gently in that direction. (”Gently”, about as subtle as a bag of hammers, honestly.)

Railroad: They’re doing good work. Again, not a joiner, and their focus is very narrow and they’re going to make themselves obsolete (which is a great endgame, but expanding to be more helpful to the Commonwealth as a whole after endgame is better) and he can and will do tourist work for them as needed. He’s not interested in actually becoming a heavy, or anything of that nature.

Brotherhood of Steel: He doesn’t like the looks of them right off - they’ve got that stupid airship and vertibirds and their power armor and laser weapons - and he likes them even less when he hears about what they’re doing and how they treat non-humans. He’s not outright hostile, not unless they give him a reason to be, but he doesn’t encourage them to hang around his own settlements. He also won’t shed any tears if a sosu sides with the Railroad and destroys them during Rockets’ Red Glare.

Institute: Not a fan. Actually, not a fan is a huge understatement. At first, he’s willing to admit that maybe there’s a little hysteria in the Commonwealth concerning them? But after literally witnessing replacements trying to take place, getting firsthand accounts - in some cases being invited into the Institute itself to make him less of a “problem” (that’s the joke) - and seeing the paranoia and fear concerning them all over the place, plus the treatment of synths like things rather than people, he’s not here for it. It’s why he’s an endgame faction for storming them.

Gunners: His first full day in the Commonwealth he gets jumped by an outpost of Gunners, and that’s what sets him on his path to meeting MacCready. He doesn’t get them - the really are wound too tight - and there’s very little reasoning for them. A person can’t even accidentally stumble across them without getting punched full of holes, and after he learns what happened in Quincy, it’s safe to say he is absolutely not their biggest fan.

Children of Atom: He thinks they’re a little weird, a little misguided, a little kooky, but if they’re not actually hurting anyone - or, you know, brainwashing kids and exposing them to large doses of radiation - and it’s all consenting adults...Well. Live and let live.

Nuka-World Raiders: Yeah, do you even need to ask?

| AS AN ENDGAME FACTION

For the truly intrepid and canon-divergent sosu, Tony can be used as their endgame faction, right by himself. Not that he can take out the Institute on his lonesome with nothing but a suit, that’s just silly. But he does have the Iron Legion, bolstered by a ground force built from reclaimed gen 1 and 2 synths and spare suits of power armor that run on an ai hivemind. This is an option for the sosu who’s managed to convince Tony they aren’t an asshole and are going to do right by the people of the Commonwealth, and who wants to minimize human and gen 3 synth casualties. Tony can be given the designs for the teleportation device and the chip from the courser and get them into the Institute, and he can be the one that the sosu storms the Institute with, if running with any ending other than the Institute’s.

| M.O.E.

MOE is the very first synth Tony rebuilds and reprograms as part of his expansion of the Iron Legion. Originally he was a limited test run - something of a code debugger - but while the ai MOE is using is buggy, it works. He learns, he’s self-aware, and he’s conscious, so Tony’s made the decision to keep him online, because otherwise pulling the plug would feel something like murder, as far as he’s concerned.

MOE mostly hangs out in Fort Hagen - his parameters keep him there after he managed to wander off one day and got attacked by feral ghouls and lost his lower jaw, so to keep him safe, he can travel from Fiddler’s Green all the way up to the radio transmitting dishes past Tony’s house, and no farther. Mostly he can be found tromping between Tony’s house and lab, and he’s a frequent fixture in doing chores such as sweeping and putting away dishes. MOE himself is picking up most of his cues in behavior from Tony, so there are definitely times he mimicks him well enough to be a little unnerving. He’s stubborn, very fixated on doing things himself for himself and learning himself and refusing help when offered it. He’s also a bit tunnel-visioned, getting absorbed in the tasks he determines for himself and can and has barreled people over pulling up rugs to sweep or walking down the street to the lab in the actual fort.

He talks! He’s not a silent robot with no personality. He can and will talk and once started is entirely hard to shut up again. There’s always a million questions once he’s determined someone is trustworthy because he is new, his consciousness is new, and he’s learning.

He can be a bit startling to see at first, with no lower jaw and the fact that Tony never cosmetically altered him to look less murdery, like the rest of the Iron Legion, but he’s a gentle skeleton robot who has particular ideas about the way certain household chores should be done, and can and will go behind Tony and “fix” things if he thinks Tony hasn’t done them correctly.

#⚛ (program: fo4 companion) / here i am the only living boy in new york #long post #long post for ts #// god this got long #// y'all been warned #// one day i'll even write up the settlement posts #// but it will not be this day

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