#and kind of a vent post because i saw yet another ranking with ani at the bottom because 'i don't like star wars' and it was one too many | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thewildwaffle · 4 years ago

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Kidnapped Rival

So I’ve posted this Transformers au fic on Ao3 and have been writing it since Feb of last year ever since I saw an anonymous post on @zenxenophilia‘s blog. I finally finished it, over a year and a half later.

You can read it here on Ao3, and I’ll also post the story here

Original post - submitted to Zenxenophilia on tumblr by anonymous: ***** ***** ***** Imagine a human on Optimus’ team. Optimus practically treats them like a sparkling, Ratchet is their grandpa and Bee and Arcee are like siblings. This human wants to fight in the war. For earth, for humans, for their family. Of course, Cybertron’s atmosphere is dangerous to humans making it difficult for the human to get involved. After begging and pleading to Optimus the human is put under extensive training with self defense and handling a weapon (thanks to Bee and Arcee). The human is outfitted with a mech suit disguised as a cybertronian. Even inside the mech the human has an armored space suit along with a blaster that can filter oxygen out of Cybertron's atmosphere just in case the mech were to break. It doesn’t take long for the human to climb the ranks(being the ‘child’ of Optimus helps a lot). The human uses a Cybertronian persona. Later they go out to the Cybertronian battlefields. This is where they meet Deadlock, Megatron’s maddog, the one responsible for so many deaths to the human’s friends. The Human quickly becomes Deadlocks rival, able to counter all his attacks and save Autobots from his clutches. After a while Deadlock develops a strange liking to the 'mech’, he seems to almost enjoy seeing them on the battlefield. One fateful day the Human and Deadlock run into each other on the battlefield, it’s just the two of them. Deadlock has trained a lot more after the first few encounters with the 'mech’ and the 'mech’ sadly couldn’t keep up, however, it didn’t stop them from doing a number on Deadlock. Deadlock is smart, he makes sure to damage the mech’s legs to most so they can’t run anywhere. The one thing that he enjoys about fighting the 'mech’ is that they don’t seem to feel pain. The mech can no longer stand up or move, it’s stuck. Deadlock oddly enough doesn’t kill them.

“You would make a great Decepticon”. … W-What? Was that an offer? Oh hell no! The Human would never join this monster after all he’s done to their friends! The Human gets out of their mech, much to Deadlocks surprise. What a lovely twist! The Human uses their blaster to keep damaging Deadlock, ducking for cover. Even out of their mech they were a threat to any Cybertronian, however, they weren’t as fast as one. Deadlock didn’t use his weapons, that would make it too easy, instead, he scoops the Human up ignoring the humans screams. He takes away their weapons and destroys their commlink. “Well well well. Who would have known? This explains a lot��” Deadlock forces the human to look up at him. His little obsession, his rival, was an organic… and a pretty cute one too!(Though he’ll never admit it) The Human struggles in his grip. “Now now. I don’t think you should do that” His grip tightens around the Human. 'It would be a shame if your armor were t’ break…’ the human stiffens, without the armor they would suffocate. “Heh.. I think I’m gonna keep you for a long while friend…” Deadlock keeps his rival on him at all times at the Decepticon base. No one is allowed to touch them but him. Most Decepticons see the Human as a living trophy to Deadlock, a pet, not knowing of Deadlock’s obsessive desires. Megatron is quite surprised by Deadlock's new pet. Megatron knew the mech that the human-piloted was Optimus’ favorite bot, not only would the Human be a good bargaining chip, but they probably know all the Autobots' little secrets. Megatron will let Deadlock do whatever he wants to do with the Human for now, after all, he earned it. Deadlock was happy with this. Meanwhile back at the Autobot base, Optimus is filled with grief. His precious human, his child, gone without a trace. He didn’t know if they were dead or not, Optimus sends out search parties for them, he regrets letting them in this war, they were too young. Ratchet is constantly checking for signals in his free time, for any sign that they were alive. Bumblebee goes quiet for a long time. He knows his sibling HAS to be alive! They have to be! They don’t die easily. He tries scout on more missions so he can find them. Arcee is filled with rage. That was her precious little sibling. Her anger is taken out on the battlefield. She questions any con she can for a sign of the human. She’s always training always, looking, always holding back her grief and the ideas that her sibling could be dead or tortured. No one has ever seen her like this. The human's disappearance is hard on everyone. That kid would constantly befriend and check up with everyone they saw, they were kind, helpful, and eager to learn. It’s dull without them at the base. They’re not there to tell Prowl to stop overworking himself. They aren’t there to help Wheeljack or Percy with their experiments. They aren’t there to jam out with Jazz or Blaster or to talk to and check up with everyone in the base. No one to listen to Ironhide's or Kup's stories. No one to complement Sunstreaker and play with Sideswipe. Everyone is heartbroken. This base isn’t a base without the kid running around. They can only hope that the human is still alive. The Decepticon base is another story. The human is filled with information about the Autobots, with the human on their side the war is in the bag. They have coordinates and information on practically every bot in the base and maybe… with a bit of mnemosurgey they could be an excellent Decepticon. The human is fine. They’re patient. They’re smart, they know how to play their cards, (Perceptor and Wheeljack taught them) they just have to play along with Deadlock and the cons for now. Hopefully, the Human can escape or pray that Optimus will find them. And hopefully, Deadlock has mercy on them.

***** ****** *****

My adding to the story:

The room was filtered, much like the human’s armored spacesuit had been. The entire Decepticon base was, not that the human had spent much time outside their room. When they did leave the room, it was for “questioning.” And it was always accompanied by Deadlock. Usually being carried by Deadlock. Actually, always carried by Deadlock. He said it was because he didn't want his human to get lost or crushed under the peds of a careless con. Really, it was to feel their rival squirm in his tight grip. Megatron had been present for a few of the first interrogations, but other duties or battles made his presence less and less frequent, which was fine by the human. As far as they were concerned, there were more than enough Decepticons around as it was. Using techniques Wheeljack had taught them, they “gave up” the info the cons wanted, just not all of it. It was just enough to keep the Decepticons from getting suspicious, get them to believe that the information that they pulled from Deadlock’s new pet was indeed genuine, but not enough info, they hoped, to really cause too much damage to the Autobots. The human needed to find a way out of this nightmare before the Decepticons caught on to what they were doing. Or before they gave up info that could actually do damage to the Autobots. It was getting harder and harder to keep the vital info they held away from their more sadistic interrogators.

The human loses track of time since being captured. Deadlock had taken their armored space suit soon after bringing them here. “No need for it here, little friend.” His sinister smile always made the human uneasy, but he just laughed at their rival’s defiant expression, putting the suit away in his subspace and leaving for another mission, making sure to lock the door behind him. When the human had time alone in the room, they scoured every inch for some means of escape. The vents looked promising, but getting to them would be difficult, even if they scaled the height of the berth or the desk, they were too short to reach. They need a better plan.

Meanwhile, the searches Optimus organized finally turned up something. If it's a good something or not has yet to be decided. It was Bumblebee who found it- the mech suit the human had been piloting when they went missing. He brought it back to base and everyone nearly lost their minds! The human, their human, without their protective mech suit?! Their armor they wore underneath was not found though, did that mean they had it and were still alive? The mech was severely damaged, they must have tried to run on foot and been captured. But by whom? And were they still alive now? Hopefully Perceptor would be able to find out something from the damaged mech to get some clue to the human’s location.

For the human, however, thoughts of being rescued seemed to be little more than a hopeful wish. Deadlock did his best to make sure that any such wish seemed less and less likely. “They’ll never find you,” he tells them. “They've given up looking for you long ago.” Or “Even if they did find out you were still alive, what makes you think they'll want you after what you've done? It was your information that lead us to victory in the Cronus Plains. How many of them did we kill because of you?” Deadlock took great pleasure in seeing his rival’s reaction to this. He smiled, knowing he could break his once-mortal-enemy both mentally as well as physically. Lifting their chin with one sharp finger he cooed, “I told you before, you'd make a good Decepticon. It seems I was right.” He moves closer, a dangerous, hungry gleam flashed in his optics. As Deadlock took a step forward, the human took two steps back. Deadlock chuckled and used mass-displacement to shrink down to just taller than the human. The human dodges his reach and turns and runs towards the berth to hide. Such a tactic seemed childish, and was doomed to fail, but it was better than doing nothing, it was some show of resistance. Deadlock was a lot… “touchier”... when he was this size, simply because it was easier to be so when the risk of crushing the object of his obsession was so much lessened. He grabbed the human by the shoulders and pulled them closer to him. “You're tense,” he murmurs, running one servo down their back. “Let me put you more at ease, my pet.” While still holding them so they couldn't get away, Deadlock stroked and prodded, massaging knots in their back and expertly melted the struggling human in his grasp. The human felt both frustrated by how effectively they'd been incapacitated, and blissfully relaxed as the tension they'd been carrying fell away. With what mental capacities they had left, the human willed themselves to make sure they made no moans or hums that would betray their pleasure to the Decepticon. After few minutes, Deadlock’s servos paused. He turned the human around to face him, holding them close and tight to his chassis. “There now, better?” One servo traveled down the small of the human’s back. The human didn't respond. Oh they wished they could be anywhere but here! They thought of the Autobot base, of their friends, of the bots that had become their family. Could what Deadlock said earlier be true? Had they given up looking for them? Did they blame them for giving up information? They must. The human sure did. As much as they tried to stop it from happening, the human let out a sob. Just the one, but it was one too many.

“There, there, none of that now,” rumbled Deadlock, “What's there to cry about? I've kept you alive. I've taken care of you. I will make sure no one dares harm you. You're one of us now.” He paused, his red optics glowing brighter. “You're mine.” He leaned forward, crushing his lips into the human’s. So taken by surprise, the human tried yelling out, which only made Deadlock squeeze them tighter in his arms, his glossa filling their opened mouth. The human struggled against his grip, but it was quickly obvious that they weren't going anywhere. As Deadlock’s servos traveled across their body, an idea of a plan came into their mind. It was a dangerous idea. It was an incredibly stupid idea, but maybe it was stupid enough to work. Instead of fighting against him, the human pushed into the kiss. Slowly, carefully, they loosed one arm and reached around to Deadlock’s neck, stroking the sensitive cables. He shivered delightedly as his cooling fans kicked on. After another moment, the human slid their other hand slowly up his chassis to where they'd seen their space suit stored away before. Lights all across Deadlock's body flickered. He reached one arm out to the berth to try to lift them both up onto it.

It was quick, before Deadlock could process what happened, the human pulled themselves away from him, opened his subspace compartment, yanked their suit out, and with one steady movement they had learned from Arcee, wrenched his arm behind his back and pinned him face down into the ground. Hard into the ground. They hoped that would be enough to keep their captor stunned long enough to get a good head start. They jumped up and ran to the door. If they could make it to the hallway and find a hiding spot, they could get their suit on and sneak out of the Decepticon base. They'd be free! The door was not locked, but it was closed and very heavy. They had only managed to crack it open when Deadlock began picking himself up off of the floor. Well, there went their head start. The human gave the door one last shove with their shoulder and started squeezing through. They were just about out when the door completely opened, sending them tumbling to the floor. Deadlock, now returned to his full size, reached down, scooped them up, and tossed them back into the room, sending them rolling across the floor. The door shut again with a loud metallic thud, followed by a click indicating that it was now locked. “I must admit, you're very good.” Deadlock's voice was dangerously calm, he almost seemed amused. “I've always known you were, the first time I saw you on the battlefield, I found you to be exceptional. A challenge for me after so many boring victories. Where was that again- our first? It's been a while, hasn't it?” He picked up the human again, who groaned at the movement of their bruised body. “Was… it was just outside... Simfur,” the human gasped, still trying to catch their breath after having it knocked out of them by the throw. “I must say... your hand-to-hand combat... hasn't improved much since then. I don't even need my mech suit to take you.” Now was certainly not the best time to sass-mouth a psychopathic killer robot, but the human was beyond caring. Deadlock only chuckled and held them close, pinning them to him so they couldn't move. “That may be. I've found I've always done well enough with my weapons though.” He began stroking the human's back absent-mindedly as he sat down on the berth. “Perhaps with a bit of mnemosurgery, you'd be more willing to stick around and give me some pointers.” The human's voice was a bit muddled y Deadlock's hold, but they said something along the lines of “like hell I will.” Deadlock mused to himself about future days with his then-compliant human, smiling at all the implications that shadowplay could bring. “It will be interesting to see how well mnemosurgery works on an organic, but I'm sure it will do wonders.” With the adrenaline of their failed escape attempt fading, and warm living metal surrounding them, the human felt exhaustion creeping in. Before they completely slipped away, they thought of Optimus and for a moment, they were back at the base, surrounded by the Autobots. Would they ever train with Bumblebee and Arcee again? Would they ever help Sunstreaker feed Bob again? Ever listen to another story from Ironhide, only to be interrupted by Kupp who told them ’how it really happened?’ They hoped so. They hoped the Autobots still wanted them back. “I’m sorry” they muttered as sleep finally overtook them.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Deadlock had been watching intently from the moment the mnemosurgeon entered the room. He was tense and anxious about what was going to happen, but inwardly giddy at the prospects a successful outcome could bring. Thinking back, it had been rather easy to convince Lord Megatron about going through with the procedure. Granted, Deadlock had kept all reasoning points to how it could help scrape out any remaining info the human had been resiliently holding back, further the Decepticon cause, and provide a severe blow to Optimus and his Autobots when they found out what had happened to their small, spunky, cute, soft… Deadlock shook his head ever so slightly. His mind was wandering again. It did that fairly often when he thought of his little rival. He watched as the mnemosurgeon inserted his needles to the base of their head. It was only two needles, and they couldn't be fully extended. As had been explained to him, mnemosurgeon was possible on organic life, but the process was different, and the results, varied. Instead of direct manipulation of memories as without on a cybertronian, organic life had to be done indirectly, usually through the twists and turns of emotions. Brains and processors, while shockingly similar, had their own operating systems, so to speak. The translation of mnemosurgery to an organic brain was difficult. It had been difficult to find someone capable of doing such a feat. Harder still, one willing to do it for him. Just in case the difficult and dangerous operation went awry, few wanted to run the risk of telling Deadlock they'd turned his little pet into a braindead bag of flesh. But he'd found one. A small lanky bot who went by the name Trepan. He seemed confident in his abilities and didn't even bat an optic when Deadlock added a bit more to his task. He was to not only seek out info, as he had told Megatron the purpose of this was, but he also wanted a few alterations. Nothing big, just a nudge, really. His little human, his little rival was still fighting him. They just needed a little mental persuasion to be sure that in the end, Deadlock won their little game.

It felt… weird. Were you floating? Were you sitting? Did it even matter? If this was weird, then what was normal? You couldn't think of the answer. Should that trouble you? You weren't sure. There was a voice that seemed to say it was fine. Well, it wasn't a voice so much as an idea. Basically, it said everything was alright, or more, the "voice" felt like everything was alright. Everything was according to plan. What plan? Was there a plan? Had you forgotten to do something for it? No, the voice that wasn't a voice came again, everything was fine, perfectly fine, just be calm. Oh, calm. That sounded nice. You hadn't really been calm for a long time. Not since before the battle with Deadlock, back when you were with the Autobots and, and… wait, what was the beginning of that thought? Calm. Oh yes, calm. You'd been calm for so long, you were the master at calm. How long had you been calm? Always. Oh, ok. That sounds nice, being calm is nice. Something seemed to nag in the back of your mind, something you were worried about, or should be worried about. What was it again? Is it about Deadlock?- the voice seemed to question sweetly. Uhhh, yes. Yes, it probably was. Why worry about him? He was perfectly fine. He can handle himself. No, not worried like that, it was more like… like… Why worry about him at all? Because, you thought. Because of what he's done. The battle- he took- The training- the voice corrected almost as instantaneously as you thought each word. He saved- The training where we fought. He saved me and took me back to base. I've been trying to get away. I have to get back, everyone's probably so worried. Oh, how did this line of thought start? Go back. Deadlock. He saved me during training and I've been trying to do something ever since. Do what? What was I doing? Uhhh… escape?- Leave, the word was replaced almost seamlessly again. Why leave? Deadlock would be so worried about you. You wouldn't want that. Oh, no, I guess not, right? Was that why I was worried about Deadlock earlier? Yeah, probably. He will be so worried when I'm gone. Then why go? He wants to take care of you, you need to be taken care of. Oh, yes. That was a good point. Cybertron wasn't exactly kind on humans. You needed help for sure. And if that help came from Deadlock, well then- But something still nagged in the back of your mind. Something? A couple of things? What were they? Did it matter? Did the somethings matter? What did matter? Deadlock. That's what mattered. And you mattered to him. In fact, you mattered so much to him that he was taking care of you. Oh, that's nice of him. Yes, very nice. You have nothing to be worried about with him around. It's easy to be calm around him. Yeah, it is. Very easy. Especially when he holds me...

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

Red Alert had checked the readouts. Had double checked them. Triple checked them. He had to be sure before he told anyone else. There'd been a pattern with the past few battles with the Decepticons. A mis-step on their part here, late arrivals and backups, tactical errors that seemed out of place of their usual methods. Yes, the Decepticons had won several important victories lately, but there was something off. It was like someone was feeding them misinformation and half-truths. The timing was too much to be a coincidence. Good thing that Red Alert didn’t believe in coincidences. The human, their human- was alive. And they were being held captive and questioned by the Decepticons. It took a bit of investigating. Red Alert felt confident enough to bring his discovery to Prime. He had to be sure. At the same time, he knew he had to make sure he had to hurry. Who knew how much longer the human would last with the Deceptions! By the time Optimus returned to base later that day, Red Alert and more than half the team were there waiting. "What's all this? What's going on?" Red Alert without a moment of hesitation handed Prime the datapad. “Sir, we have reason to believe that we know where (name) is being kept.” *** The human woke up wrapped in Deadlock’s arms. He was still in recharge from the even sounds of his air intake. They looked drearily up at his face. It was rare to see him look so calm. As they slowly became fully awake, they pulled as much of the soft blankets they could reach more tightly around them. They couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong. They frowned. What a way to wake up! But what? Was it because of Deadlock’s latest mission assignments? He often had to leave to fight or to do tasks given to him by Megatron. They were usually very dangerous and the human would hold his arm tightly in worry when he would return and recount his day to them. Were they worried about Deadlock getting hurt, or worse yet, not coming back at all? Well, yes, of course. Especially with this latest mission. But was that really the reason behind this guttural feeling of dread. They were anxious, like they had to act and act now before it was too late! What were they supposed to do?! They tried getting up without disturbing Deadlock. Something was wrong, but what could it possibly be? The human's breathing started to become frantic. It felt stuffy in the room. They wished they could go outside. Or well, maybe not outside on Cybertron, that would be deadly without their suit. It felt like every cell of their body was craving the feel of unfiltered sunshine. Their lungs yearned for even a whiff of fresh air. Walking on soft grass? Yes please. Digging through rich, organic-filled soil? It was like part of their soul hungered desperately for it. They tried to remember the last time they’d felt any of that back on Earth. They had taken it for granted then, not realizing how much they’d miss it when they went to Cybertron to join the Autobots. They’d been too full of righteous anger then, wanting vengeance for their losses, hoping to help end the war sooner in any way they could. They didn’t realize how much they’d miss… Their heart froze in their chest. Autobots? When they’d left Earth, they’d gone to join the... Autobots? That couldn’t be right? That didn’t make sense! The more they thought about it, the more their memories started to make less and less sense. The Autobots were their enemy. Right? But then why were there memories of Optimus Prime giving them a tour of the Autobot base? Why had they gone on a joyride with Sideswipe? Hound had shown them some Cybertronian vegetation samples he had been preserving throughout the war. Arcee and Chromia had helped them translate their fighting moves to combat while in a battle suit. They nearly gasped in shock as feelings of guilt and grief flooded their brain. Why were they feeling this? Why did they miss them? Where were these memories coming from? Recoiling, they searched their mind. Deadlock had met them on Earth, had saved them from an Autobot attack? They frowned. That memory felt so colorless and hollow compared to the new ones they’d discovered, but they continued. They’d begged Deadlock to let them come with him to Cybertron. He’d trained them to fight. Shockwave built the battle suit which was destroyed. It was a close call, but they’d survived. Deadlock hadn’t let them leave the Decepticon Base since, too worried about their safety. That… that was there. In their mind. Images of memories were there, acting as evidence of their validity. But… the more they were examined, the more things started falling apart. Cracks started forming in the memories, like dried paint on a balloon when you inflate it, or puzzle pieces that don’t quite fit together. And like a mis-matched puzzle, the whole image was starting to make less and less sense the more they thought about it. Something was wrong. Something was terribly, terribly wrong. Despite the human’s efforts to remain still and calm, Deadlock started stirring. His optics came back online and their red light spilled down onto the smaller human. “You’re awake early today,” he commented in a deep, still somewhat sleepy voice. “How did you sleep?” "Fine," they muttered stiffly. Deadlock pulled them in tightly, his lips resting against the shell of their ear. "Mmmmmmhmmmmm. Something is troubling you," he paused as if waiting for a response. When none came, he turned the human around to face them. "What’s wrong? Tell me.” He paused again, but there was only silence. “How can I fix what’s troubling you if you don't tell me?” The human frowned, conflicted about what to say, or if they should say anything at all. They gave in as Deadlock’s grip began getting unbearably tight. “How long have I been here?” The grip became significantly more loose as Deadlock’s expression changed to a mix of surprise and confusion. “What was that?” “How… how long have I been here,” they ask again, their confidence waxing a bit stronger as they seemed to find their voice. “What have I done?” The human could feel Deadlock tense at the question for just an instant before he relaxed again and responded in a dangerously sweet tone, "What kind of question is that? Where is all this coming from?" The human had enough sense to know that telling the truth about these new and confusing memories would only make trouble. If they were false, then it would only upset Deadlock unnecessarily. If they were true... well, they weren’t sure what that would mean just yet, but it definitely wasn’t good. In the meantime, they had to think of something to say. Deadlock’s red eyes were burning into their own. Thinking on the spot, they came up with what they could and told a half-truth. “I had… a strange dream. I don’t know if it was a nightmare or not, it just… it was… strange.” “Strange? How so?” The human panicked a bit, but kept their cool. That’s what Wheeljack had taught them before right? Wait, right? Uh, well that was kind of the question and problem right now. They had to come up with something to say and quick, so they continued on with the half-truths. “I think I just miss Earth. I was dreaming about it, and then I was here with you on Cybertron, but I was also with the Autobots? But we weren’t fighting. And then Megatron was there and he was really happy about something and…” The human looked up at Deadlock with the most innocent puppy dog eyes they could muster, “I’m sorry, I know that all sounds silly. Dreams don’t always make sense though, especially when you try to explain them out lou-” Deadlock swore violently as he got up from the berth and returned to his full size. The human sat, dazed and confused as Deadlock stomped toward the door. Before he reached it, he turned back to the human. “You’re sure you were dreaming about the Autobots?” His voice was icy and sent shivers down the human’s spine. They silently nodded, still a bit in shock. With a low growl, Deadlock turned back to the door and stomped out, leaving the human locked and alone in the room. “Well,” they said aloud to themselves, “that was odd.” Odd, and terrifying. It didn’t seem to match their memories of Deadlock, or… no. No it did. Dual images of Deadlock existed. A soft, caring bot who loved them and let them stay with him while on Cybertron was mirrored by a vicious and cruel mech who had fought and captured them and now kept them here as a trophy and play-thing. But which one was real? Why were there conflicting memories in their head? The human pulled their legs in close to the rest of their body and took a deep breath in an attempt to clear their mind. They had to figure this out. They had to get to the bottom of this. What was the truth? ---- Deadlock stomped down the hall, sending lower-ranking cons scurrying out of his way as he passed. They knew better than to be in range of the mech when fury roiled in his EM field like that, it was not a safe place to be at all. He paid them no mind though. There was only one bot that needed to watch out for his wrath right now. They weren’t on base now, but as soon as Deadlock got his claws into Trepan, he was going to pay dearly. Then he was going to address and fix the spots he missed in his dear little rival’s memories, before this all got out of servo.

***** ***** ***** ***** ***** *****

The human had been sitting in silence for, well, they weren’t sure how long. In the hours of his absence, they used Deadlock’s absence to review their memories in peace. They paced until their legs were tired. They sat to think before they grew too restless and began pacing again. How could they remember being with the Autobots and leaving Earth with Deadlock at the same time? That was impossible. Something was wrong. What was real? What was fake? Why were there fake memories in their head? Their feelings up to this point, about the Decepticons, about… about Deadlock… were those even real? Their chest felt tight as they began hyperventilating. What had happened -really happened? Why were they like this?!? They were trying to fight back tears as they searched through confusing memories when the door opened. The human glanced up apprehensively. Deadlock? They weren’t sure they were ready to face him right now. Not like this. For better or for worse, it wasn’t Deadlock. It was… it was Frenzy. The Casseticon’s silhouette was harshly lit from behind. The human stared silently, frozen in place as Frenzy stepped to the berth and pulled them up and along behind him roughly. “Looks like Deadlock’s gone off on one of his little jaunts. Humph. Just ‘cuz he’s Megatron’s favorite, he can do whatever he wants, go wherever he wants,” he looked back at the human, “take whatever he wants.” “What are you doing?” The human’s voice was barely more than a whisper. “More than what I signed up for today, that’s what,” was the gruff reply they got. Frenzy was a little more than a foot taller than they were and it was easy for him to drag the human along out the door. The relative safety of the room now gone, the human’s heart rate spiked even further. They’d left the room before. Plenty of times. But almost always with Deadlock. And definitely always not in the middle of some mental breakdown or memory mishap, or whatever the heck was going on with them! Primal fear stabbed through their stomach while at the same time, flaking memories surfaced in her mind of Deadlock telling them they’d always be safe with the Decepticons. Frenzy seemed oblivious to the mental war raging in the organic creature in his servo. He was much too focused grumbling about Deadlock’s sudden disappearance and having to cover his extra duties. “Now I get to haul you to Shockwave’s lab on top of everything else. If I were to just not show up for something, I’d never hear the end of it! Or rather, I would, right after I was put offline. But no, Deadlock can do whatever he wants whenever he wants because he’s Megatron’s little-” A loud alarm cut the disgruntled Decepticon off. He paused and looked around and tensed, then growled as he received orders over his comm. “Yeah I got the fleshie now… but I… but boss!.... Yeah, yeah, I got it. I’m going.” “Wh-what’s going on?” “Nonaya business, we’re just gonna have ta make a detour is all,” Frenzy started quickly down a corridor, nearly pulling the human’s arm out of their socket, grumbling as they struggled to keep pace. It was all they could do to avoid being dragged along behind the casseticon. Their mind raced as they tried to figure out what the heck was going on! Frenzy swore as the pair came around the corner. Two Autobots nearly ran into them, but one of them was able to jump out of the way to avoid a collision. The second smaller bot wasn’t quite as quick on his peds. The human nearly had the air knocked out of them as they crashed into the bright yellow of his chassis. “(Name)?!” The human looked up. Bumblebee? And the other… Sunstreaker? Almost immediately, a swirl of double memories assaulted their mind, laughing with Bumblebee while pulling a prank at base, helping Sunstreaker buff out some scratches after a battle with the Decepticons, dodging a blast from Bumblebee on the battlefield, hiding under debris while they prepared for a counterattack… wait, no, that hadn’t been Bumblebee, it was… it was Deadlock? Wait, what? Their stomach turned. With a screech of metal, Frenzy grabbed the slightly larger Bumblebee by the arm and swung him into Sunstreaker. Before either could recover, the casseticon ran and reached out for the human again. Just before he could grab them, a small, multi-limbed something jumped and struck him sideways. “Good boy Bob!” Sunstreaker cheered as he scooped up the small insecticon. Before the human could register what was going on, they were swept off their feet by Bumblebee who led Sunstreaker and Bob back down the corridor they came from. “No! Let me go!” the human screamed. They weren’t sure what was going on anymore and all they wanted was just a few moments to try to process what was going on and what was wrong with them. “(Name)?” Bumblebee's voice sounded shocked and worried. “(Name), it’s me, it’s, it’s us. We’re your friends, we’re here to rescue you.” he glanced back to Sunstreaker who in turn looked back briefly at where they had left Frenzy behind. For a moment, it looked like he might go back and take a few extra shots at the small Decepticon. “What have those fraggin’ cons done to them?” With a kick and a struggle, the human squirmed out of Bumblebee’s grip and bolted. They didn’t know where. All they knew was they had to find somewhere, anywhere to think. “(Name)! Come back! Please!” The human stumbled a bit. Please? Since when did Autobots say please? Or, wait, no. No. Autobots… when did Decepticons say please? When had Deadlock ever said… From behind, the human saw Bumblebee, no Deadlock, no Bumblebee reaching out to them again. Past images flashed of Bumblebee reaching out to grab them, taking them away from the battlefield, no, away from their home on Earth? What was true anymore?! They grabbed their head as if that would help clear things. Not clearly watching where they were going, they tripped and rolled to a stop. “What did you do, drop them?” Sunstreaker ran up to help. With a loud clang, he was knocked back by a newcomer behind the human. “Autobot scum,” a familiar voice growled. The human’s spine tingled. Was that fear? But why? The human turned their head to see Deadlock look down and lock his glowing red eyes on them. “(Name), what are you doing out here?” he nearly snarled. He reached down toward them. As he reached, time seemed to slow down as the action sparked a surge of memories. On the battlefield, escaping a broken mech suit and running, doing their best to fight back while attempting to retreat, getting grabbed by Deadlock, the feeling of helplessness as they were carried off. The human’s eyes widened. These memories felt different than the others. This one felt whole and clear- like the others were glitching and foggy by comparison. They may not be sure what the heck was going on, but they knew one thing: Deadlock would not catch them again. They rolled and were on their feet with the speed that only comes from training. More clear memories surfaced: training with Arcee on evasive maneuvers, the Autobot base, the battlefield the day they’d been captured as they’d attempted to dodge Deadlock’s grasp. A wave of resolve filled the human. These memories were true. They clung to them desperately as they dove away from Deadlock’s reach. No sooner had they cleared the Decepticon’s outstretched hand that Bumblebee tackled him. The two tumbled back and Bumblebee kept his hits coming, trying to prevent Deadlock from being able to draw his weapons. The human nearly lept as Sunstreaker approached, crouching down to their level. The only thing that kept them from running was the fact that they were fighting against Deadlock. That was enough to hesitantly side with them for the moment. “(Name), it’s okay, we’re going to get you out of here.” Sunstreaker glanced up at his fellow yellow Autobot, now struggling to keep Deadlock occupied. He activated his comm. “Prime, we found them! We’ve got company though. Requesting backup.” Before he could end the transmission, Deadlock had managed to throw Bumblebee off of him. The minibot hit and rolled, leaving scrapes of paint and scratches in the floor behind him. As Deadlock reached to pull his guns, Sunstreaker blasted him in the shoulder. The con toppled back, crashing against the wall and dropping one of his blasters. Sunstreaker jumped up, pulling his arm for a punch. Before it could connect however, Deadlock’s hands shot out and stopped the oncoming attack. Sunstreaker cried out as Deadlock squeezed the Autobot’s fist in his larger hand and rose to his feet slowly. Sunstreaker threw a punch with his other hand, which connected with Deadlock’s face and caused him to stumble. With a terrifying growl, the larger con pulled Sunstreaker back with him, caught their fall with a sweep of his legs, and jolted forward to crash his helm into Sunstreaker’s face. Before the injured Autobot could hit the ground, the human had scampered to Deadlock’s fallen weapon. The gun was nearly as large as they were, but they were able to heft it up enough to get their arms around it. They put a hand on the trigger, and putting their whole weight into it, were able to lean it back enough to aim it at Deadlock. The smug smile melted off the Decepticon’s face as he noticed his rival’s actions. “(Name), put it down, you’re confused and afraid, it’s okay, I’m here for you now. You’re safe.” “Am I?” The human shouted back. Their voice sounded so raspy and not nearly as steady as they had hoped. “Then why do I have these memories? You attacked Earth! You attacked the Autobots! You attacked me! I remember fighting you in a mech suit.” Deadlock growled and his ruby optics flashed to the Autobots who were only just starting to stir on the ground. “They messed with your mind. Put that weapon down and I can get you help. We can fix this and you can be happy again.” The human readjusted their slipping grip on the weapon. “No! This started before they came. You did this, I don’t know how, but now I have double memories that tell two completely different stories. But you,” the human took a deep breath to steady themselves. They were shaking now. It was a struggle to keep the gun up and pointed at the menacing con in front of them. “You, I remember you. I have memories of fighting you that are clearer than the rest. I remember you destroying my mech suit and capturing me. You brought me here against my will. I don’t know what you did to me, but I’m leaving with the Autobots!” Deadlock’s optics narrowed. “What makes you think they want you back? How can you be sure they’re not just here to terminate you? Think of what you’ve done, what information you’ve spilled? How much Autobot energon do you think we’ve spilled because of you?” Deadlock smiled as the human’s eyes widened. Their hold on his weapon began to slip once more. He lowered his voice, “I told you, you are a Decepticon now. Like it or not, you belong here, with me.” The human’s eyes watered, and they blinked hard, trying to remove the extra fluids. Deadlock smirked. He had them. He would always have them. They could fight, and as amusing as their intrepid spirit was, he would always best his precious little rival. Thundering footsteps from down the corridor interrupted Deadlock’s triumphal thoughts. A large, red, and blue shape ran into view. “(Name!)” Optimus yelled, taking stock of the scene he was coming into. The human stared at him. Once again, memories flashed: meeting the Autobot leader on Earth, asking, begging him to allow them to join the fight, seeing the worried but proud look in those blue optics when they first powered up their new mech suit. Like before, these memories seemed sharp and clear. They brought a surge of emotions and comfort to the human’s entire body. Optimus was here and they’d be okay now. Deadlock snarled and reached for his other gun still holstered over his shoulder. Before he could draw and shoot, the human took advantage of his distraction and pulled the trigger. Their aim, as it were while trying to hold the too-large-for-them weapon, was not great, but it did hit. Deadlock stumbled and clutched his leg where he’d been shot. He turned back to the human, optics as angry as fire. With the remaining strength they had left, the human pulled the trigger again. The shot went awry this time, but Deadlock flinched at it nonetheless. As he pulled back his arm to swipe at the human, Optimus plowed into him, sending him tumbling into the wall. Having spent the last bit of their strength, the human fell to the ground, Deadlock’s gun pinning them awkwardly, but only for a moment. Optimus, as carefully as he could, removed the weapon and scooped the exhausted human in his arms. Behind him, Ironhide, Arcee, and Jazz ran up, weapons drawn and ready. Ironhide kept his cannons pointed at the unmoving Deadlock while Arcee and Jazz went to help Sunstreaker and Bumblebee who were struggling to rise now. “Up ya get my man,” Jazz helped Sunstreaker to his feet and pulled his arm over his shoulder to give support, “you’re brother’s never gonna let me hear the end of it if I don’t getcha back to base in one piece. You too Bob.” The insecticon who had been trapped under the fallen Sunstreaker, chirped and whirred weakly. Bumblebee, who was now being supported by Arcee, looked around and asked weakly, “(Name)? Are, are they alright?” Optimus looked down at the human cradled carefully in his arms. They gave a weak smile through their tears. It was about all they could manage right now as they were struggling to keep themselves from just shutting down mentally. The double memories had taken a toll on their mind. They still just wanted time to think, to figure all this out. There were wounds from this that would need to be healed. For now, though, they knew they could trust Optimus. They could feel that deep down, more than any memory, false or true, could say otherwise. Optimus nodded to his bots and opened his commlink, “Autobots, fall back. Ratchet, prepare to open a ground bridge at the rendezvous point.” The Autobots retreat, joy in their sparks. Arcee and Bumblebee look on with smiles as they retrace their steps down the corridors of the Decepticon base. They had their human “sibling” back! Ironhide led the way, canons at the ready as they went. Jazz soon joined him after Sunstreaker insisted that he could walk fine by himself and would cover the rear. No Decepticons snuck up on their back, and between Jazz and Ironhide, the cons they came across were quickly dispatched. They made it back to the rendezvous point with the other Autobots. The human at this point was barely hanging on to consciousness and didn’t hear Optimus comm Ratchet to open the ground bridge, but they did see the familiar blue and green swirling lights. As the Autobots retreated through the bridge, they looked up at Optimus. He noticed their attention and looked down concernedly at them. There were still tears in their eyes, though they were from relief now more than anything. “You came for me.” Something about the tone they said it in, tore at Optimus’ spark. Their shock and pitiful hopefulness spoke volumes about what psychological treatment they’d been dealt while captive. It was going to be a lot of time and effort to heal. Optimus looked around at his Autobots around him. They kept shooting worried looks to the human in his arms. He knew each and every one of them loved the human greatly, each in their own way, and would be supportive as they healed. The human, whom he viewed as his own child, was in good hands now. “Of course, (Name), we’re your family. We’ll always be here for you.” The human looked like they might break into tears but instead smiled softly before they finally slipped peacefully into a much-needed sleep.

#transformers #yandere #deadlock #Reader is human #tf au

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human-trash-fire · 5 years ago

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Beautiful Disaster: Ch. 4 (Pynch Soulmate-AU)

I realized I never posted Ch 4 for my Pynch AU! So here it is, for anyone interested, HERE is a link to my masterlist where you can find the first 3 chapters. (THIS WILL NOT MAKE SENSE WITHOUT READING THE OTHERS) I’m also on Ao3 as glam_reaper2 <3

Anyways, this fic is the writing I’m most proud of, and I can’t wait to drop Ch 5 this week!

TW: Adam’s Dad/ mentioning abuse, graphic depiction of violence, mention of suicide attempt.

Adam Parrish woke in the early hours on the third day after the alley. The pre-dawn glow streaming through the crack in his curtains cast shadows on the plants and books covering his shelves. Eyes heavy and throat raw, Adam took a deep breath. In through his nose, oxygen flooding his lungs, battling to release the weight that had long since laid claim on the space behind his ribs. He held it until he thought he might choke. Vision blurring, heartbeat hammering in his ears, a pulsing reminder that he was still here; then in a rush, he released. The momentary weightlessness was a small reprieve.

The tiny arm slung across his abdomen a reminder that, at least for now, he wasn’t alone. Blue had crawled into his bed the afternoon before and stayed with him through the long night. Adam moved her arm off and slid as carefully and quietly as he could from the bed, he didn’t wish to wake her. She needed sleep, the exhaustion evident on her face even now.

He moved toward the window, reaching out to open his curtains, allowing the morning light to flood in. And there he stood, hand still holding the curtain, eyes trained on the horizon. He remained unmoved, watching the sun crawl from the earth bathing everything in its path in colors Adam had never seen. They were fresh, warm, soft. They stole his breath and for a moment, a lifetime, he stood frozen and allowed that hopeful warmth to settle in his bones. In awe of the majesty of nature, swallowed whole by the gift of color, broken by it.

His breath stuttered.

The man in the alley would never see a sunrise, or a sunset. He had given Adam this gift and left mere hours before Adam could have reciprocated. His thoughts spiraled, fingers tightening on the curtain, eyes burning. The sunrise moved from photographic clarity to an impressionist painting, and salt kissed his lips.

“Adam…” Blue breathed from his side, reaching out and pulling aside the second curtain to allow a full view.

“It’s-” Adam choked on a whisper, “It’s magnificent, and he’ll never see.”

Adam spent the rest of the week coping in the only way he knew how: throwing himself into his jobs and school work. Blue and Henry had closed ranks, showering him with their own personal versions of love.

For Henry, it was distraction, mindless conversation, a steady companionship during hours in the library. Henry Cheng, though initially someone Adam never saw friendship potential in, was more than most gave him credit for. On the outside, he was loud. From his clothes to hair, he was unabashedly himself: caring, vibrant, loyal. Adam appreciated the effort, never pressured to talk about what was clearly tearing him apart.

Blue was the opposite, in a very Blue way. She brought him coffees and hugs, asked him about his mood, and made highly unsubtle references to “healthy coping mechanisms.” She was kind but stern, pushing him towards what he knew logically was the next step. But this trauma was too big, too heady to file away in the closet in his mind marked “DANGER.”

It had been a little over a week since he watched his first true sunrise when Blue decided to take off the kid gloves.

“Look.” Her voice was as unwavering as her eye contact, sitting next to him on the chipped-white metal bench in the alley beside Nino’s Cafe where they took their break. Nino’s was his second job, and Blue’s “fun money/ free caffeine” job, covering the hours she wasn’t working on her photography portfolio.

Adam held her gaze, and his breath. Her tone brokered no room for argument, and he knew he had spent enough time avoiding answering anything truthfully… Her forcing a “talk” on him was inevitable. He nodded once to indicate he was listening, and waited for her to continue.

“I know you aren’t ready to talk, and that is completely fine. I won’t bullshit you and pretend I have any idea what kind of pain you’re in. No- no,” she held up a finger to cut off Adam’s rebuttal. “Don’t shake your head and feed me you’re ‘i’m fine’ because we both know you’re not. That being said you’re a grown ass man, who makes his own decisions and I respect that. But, Adam?”

He cocked his head to the side, and made a noncommittal grunt.

“You need to do something. You know I always advocate therapy, but -don’t scoff asshole- but, I’m also aware that it’s ‘not your thing’ so I had another idea. Here,” Blue thrust a bag towards Adam. It was a recycled paper shopping bag, rolled at the top and lighter than he expected.

“What’s this?” He asked.

“Open it.”

He unrolled the bag skeptically and peered inside. His right eyebrow hitched as he looked away from the bag’s contents and towards Blue. “The fuck?”

“Letters. That’s my idea. Something I never told you but, when my dad left I had all this rage and I had no one to direct it towards. My mom got me a pack of envelopes and blank paper and told me to try writing a letter to him. She told me I didn’t ever have to send what I wrote to him if I didn’t want too, and I didn’t. The act of venting everything in a direct way really helped me, it was more than a diary, or whatever, because these were shots at an intended target. I could be mad and then seal it in an envelope and the weight in my chest lifted a little. I thought maybe…” She motioned towards the bag with a crooked smile and a shrug.

“Letters…” Adam repeated. “To a dead guy?”

“Yes.”

“Blue, I don’t know.”

“Look, just take the damn bag. Do it, or don’t. I can’t and wont force you. But at least consider it.” Then she rose to her full height, the most intimidating 5 feet he had ever seen, giving him what could only be called a “mom look” and sauntered back inside.

That night, weighted down by grief and half delirious with exhaustion, Adam opened the bag. He pulled out the box of white envelopes, cracked open the pack of college-rule paper, and grabbed a black pen from the cup at the right of his desk. This is so stupid, he thought as he put his pen to paper...

i. You, I never knew your name. You left before I ever had the chance to ask. I wish more than anything that I knew your name, at least then I’d be able to grieve a person instead of a stranger in an alley. You were… Exquisite. Even floating in a pool of your own life, you were beautiful. You were. Past tense. Gone. I dreamed of knowing you. The idea of you, in abstract my whole life. I didn’t know who you’d be, but, still I dreamed. It was my secret. The odds of finding your soulmate are so slim these days, and yet… In the quiet hours of the night, bone tired and barely standing at work, or when the hunger pains threatened to cripple me, I’d pull you out of the careful place in my mind, and dream. It’s dangerous to dream. I know better now. You fucking left me. How dare you? It’s probably a good thing you’ll never read these letters. Blue, my best friend, suggested I write them to help me “find closure.” That’s very Blue. She’s all about self-care and talking through feelings. Henry, my other friend, agrees with her. So here I am, attempting to vomit my heart on a page in hope of finding some semblance of peace. There is so much I wish I could have told you, and so much more that would have terrified me to admit. That’s one benefit to your never knowing me I suppose... Honestly, it was probably for the best that, in the end, you never had the chance to try knowing me. I’m a disaster. I’m unknowable. And that’s, fine. Ya know? I’m okay, I think. Holding onto that which sets me apart, and working my hardest to fix everything else that’s in my power. That’s how I got here, Georgetown. I did it myself. That’s something I would have told you, because it’s something I am proud of, though I’ll never say. I worked 3 jobs through highschool, made straight A’s, volunteered, and slaved away. I saved money in a shoebox under a loose vent in my trailer to buy books. My dad would have killed me, literally, if he’d ever found that. I was supposed to give them everything, but I hid that. I hid so much. I got really good at hiding in that place. Henrietta… What a fucking shit show. Anyways, I saved and pushed myself. I think I ate maybe once a day for those years, if I was lucky? I know I barely slept. But it was worth it the day the acceptance letter came in the mail. Georgetown. 3 hours away. A world away. A full ride. I was so fucking happy that day, I even allowed myself to dip into the shoebox to buy a coke fom the gas station by the autoshop I worked at. That was my life then, and still is now, to some extent. Small rewards, focus on the bigger picture. Work, work, work, and then one day have the power and money, the status, the ability to fight for people like me. I had barely put the box back when my dad, Robert, saw me holding my acceptance letter, and a $20. I wasn’t allowed to have money in my room, even if I made it myself. It was “for the family” he always said. “Do you want us to starve?” “you think you’re so fancy at your charter school don’t you?” always the same. Always cruel. So I’m standing there, money and letter in hand, smiling like an idiot when he comes in. I’ll never forget that day. I’d taken so many beatings from him by the time I was 17, it was second nature really. But this one? For some reason it surprised me. I thought for sure that he would be capable of some sense of joy. I got into college, for free. But Robert wasn’t like that. I could smell the beer on his breath. Keystone, always fucking Keystone. It smells like piss. It still makes me gag. “What the fuck is that?” he asked. And I didn’t know how to respond. I remember stuttering. I was always stuttering, mumbling, hiding, lying. Anything to avoid the inevitable. “I asked you a question, boy.” I panicked. “Its, uh, a letter, sir. An acceptance letter. From college. I-I got in.” Apparently it wasn’t the right response. I don’t remember much after that, I know he told me I had no right to hide money because I “owed him.” I always owed him. For breathing, for having the audacity to live. That night was the worst I can remember though. He wouldn’t stop. He was screaming about how I wasn’t allowed to just leave. I took more hits than usual, but I could have handled it. I’m no stranger to broken bones and bruises. But I was so scared this time. I knew, somehow I knew that this was it. If I didn’t get out he was going to kill me. Kill me because of a $20 and a full ride. I tried to run. I did. I never made it very far though. He caught me, and the last thing I remember was a screaming pain in the left side of my head. I don’t know why I’m even writing all this, maybe Blue and Henry were right? I’ve never even told them all of this. I really doubt I would have told you this had I been given the chance. I would have stuck to the barest details: Deaf in left ear. Accident. Long time ago. I don’t talk to my parents. Or maybe I wouldn’t have hid…Soulmates are a safe space right? Through whatever magic, or science, or God (if you believe in one of those, I don’t- hope you wouldn’t have cared) we are supposed to be able to share it all. A balance. A quiet place. A home. I wonder what you would have said if I told you? I hope it wouldn’t have been pitying. I don’t do pity. I’ll never know that though, which is maybe a relief? I don’t know. I hope you would have been proud though, that I did get out. Of what I’m doing with my life now. I haven’t even told “you” have I? I got a double Bachelors in Political Science and Conflict Resolution. I’m currently taking a Masters in Public Policy. I know, most people see “Georgetown” and “Politics” and think “Here’s another white guy with dreams of power.” But it’s not that. I’m going to change things, my thesis is on Domestic Violence: prevention and programs. I’m going to fight for the kids like me, in the homes like mine. I’m going to fight for every time I didn’t hit back. Every bruise and broken bone. I’m going to change the world for the Adam Parrish’s. I’m going to bring an end to the Roberts. That’s what I’m doing now. I guess I’ll be okay without you. I’ve always been better at work than relationships anyway. If we’re being honest you probably would have hated me. I’m terrible with making time for anyone. I have goals though, I don’t have the luxery to fuck around. I’m not conducive to a partnership, and I’m not even sure I’d be capable of love. I would have tried for you though. Maybe you needed that. Maybe if you’d had it, love, you wouldn’t have ended up in the alley. I don’t know. I wish I could ask you why. I just… fuck. This letter is getting severely out of hand. It doesn’t matter why you did it. You did. And that’s that I suppose. Forever a mystery, the man with the beautiful face and ice blue eyes. “I used to build dreams about you.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald, Benediction That’s all you are now. A dream.

He folded the pages in thirds, slipping them in an envelope, and sealing them away. On the outside he wrote the number one, then slid the envelope into a crack between one of his potted plants and a row of books on his window sill. Then Adam crawled into bed and finally slept; for once it was a dreamless- restorative sleep.

Shattered heart hanging heavy in his chest, Adam looked up when the bell above the door to Nino’s chimed the arrival of a new patron. The young couple made their way towards the counter. The smaller man leaning lovingly into the side of his partner, while the taller man looked down lovingly, arm draped across the first’s shoulders. It was a quiet moment, something so personal and beautiful Adam looked down, he didn’t want to intrude. His hands were shaking, a bitter jealousy crashing like waves in a storm through his entire being. He took a steadying breath, trying to quell the rage, and uncapped the black marker, grabbing a cup to prepare to take their order.

“Hi,” he bit out through his customer service smile. He looked up from the cup in hand, allowing a little of his Henrietta lilt to color his words into something close to friendly. “Welcome to Nino’s, what can I get started for you today?”

“Hi! Can we please get a- Oh, wow!” The shorter man had stopped mid-sentence and leaned close to Adam across the counter. “Your eyes are so blue! Babe, have you ever seen eyes so beautiful?” Adam wanted to fucking snap. The larger man leaned in as well and hummed in approval.

“No I haven’t, sorry. I know this is probably so inappropriate,” he leaned back, tone placating. “We don’t mean to make you uncomfortable, this is just all new for us-”

Adam didn’t fucking care.

“-Anyways, can we please get two Americanos, and a a slice of apple pie with two forks?”

Of course, Adam nodded. He finished the order and made the drinks with shaking hands and a barely controlled rage burning him from within, blooming pink across his cheeks.

He couldn’t breathe.

When he returned home, he slammed his door and flew to his desk; practically tearing a lined sheet from the pile of supplies from Blue and began to write. Pen pressed so hard small tears formed in the paper as he purged…

ii.

You.

Fuck you for what you did. For what you did to yourself. What you did to that man in the alley. Screaming. Begging. Holding you together.

For what you did to me.

I hate you.

I hate that I love you. The idea of you. Because you couldn’t even wait for me. I never got the chance to love the real you, and I loathe you for it.

You fucking left me alone.

All this goddamn color, all these beautiful things, and I’m still living in black and white.

I’m drowning.

You were my hope.

You were my end game. Sometimes, I fear you’ll be my end.

I can’t get away from the idea of you.

I see your face every time I close my eyes.

You’re haunting me.

You’re ruining me.

Fuck you.

I hate you.

Fuck, You.

You…

Why did you leave me all alone?

When he finished his breath was ragged, chest rising and falling in heavy swells. Angry tears drying splotches across the page before him, turning certain words into a blurry but still legible watercolor. He threw his pen across the room, shoved the letter into the envelope marked 2, and placed it alongside the first.

Adam spent the remaining days of September numb. He had taken to carrying a few sheets of paper and envelopes in his messenger bag in case he ever needed them.

It was on one particular afternoon -two days before September ended- as he sat in Nino’s sipping coffee and staring blankly at the textbook in front of him, that he wrote his third letter. He felt untethered, unbalanced, the sky outside was such a pale blue that his mind began to wander. With a sigh, he pulled out a sheet of paper, and an envelope marking the outside with the number three.

iii.

You,

I’m so lost��

I can’t fall asleep without seeing your eyes.

Unfocused.

Unblinking.

Ice cold.

Fathomless.

Broken.

I wonder how they looked when you were happy… I hope you were happy, truly happy. At least once there before the end.

I bet they were beautiful.

Come back.

Please…

Adam stayed staring at that plea, that unanswered wish, until his coffee was cold. He wondered if this would ever end, he wasn’t unfamiliar with want. Adam had wanted more than anyone he had ever known. He was accustomed to the pain, the resentment that came with wanting that which you cannot have, but unlike all the other times this was wholly unattainable. No amount of extra shifts, A’s on homework, perfect test scores, hard-work would ever give him this particular want.

He packed his bag slowly, tossing his coffee in the trash by the door and waving half-heartedly at his coworker behind the counter. The bell chimed his departure and he made his way out into the chilly September afternoon. The walk from Nino’s to his apartment was blessedly short. As he rounded the corner at the end of the block he was assaulted by the acrid smell of smoke.

Adam looked up, chill already forgotten, for the source and his eyes landed on a peculiar sight: A handsome man, in a nice crisp peacoat and cashmere scarf. Standing, hands clasped behind his neck, staring into the open maw of a smoking, Candy-Orange, ‘73 Camero.

“Hey!” he half shouted, making his way towards the gentleman, his greeting had clearly disturbed an emotional crisis. “Hey, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you, did you maybe need some help?”

“Oh, hi. Yes, Hello. I’m, no thank you. I’m alright. I’ll give someone a call, The Pig is an auto-shop frequent flyer I’m afraid. Though, I’ve never seen it smoke quite so heavily.” The man half laughed, and shook his head.

“I don’t mind, I’m actually a mechanic down at Boyds. I can take a peak and see if I can do anything here if you’d like? Save you a trip.”

“Are you sure? I’d be more than happy to pay y-”

Adam shook his head fiercely, “No need. I’m Adam, by the way.”

He held out his hand towards the man, who grasped his in kind. A vibrant smile lit his face, “Lovely to meet you Adam, I’m Gansey.”

#pynch #pynch fic #Adam Parrish #ronan lynch #ronan x adam #blue sargent #gansey #gangsey #bd au

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yoshi-p · 6 years ago

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everyone and their dog is doing it and everyone is absolutely allowed to share their opinions so i want a turn but first let me clarify:

hello im yase, been around since 1.0. I am of turkish and nogai descent and i can speak fluently in tatar, turkish but my english doesn’t hold 100% so i will be all over the place.

Unfortunately this will all be word of mouth and may be taken as vague posting, but I have experienced issues since the release of 4.0 and would like to give my opinions. I want to let this all off my chest this is just a huge vent basically so i guarantee my english will be terrible.

the most important point: NEVER EVER SPEAK FOR ANOTHER CULTURE. NEVER EVER SPEAK ABOUT A CULTURE YOU DON’T KNOW. YOU HAVE SPREAD FALSE INFORMATION AND I AM SO HURT.

another point is ITS A VIDEO GAME GUYS (does not apply to everything but some people really need to take a step back because people are concerned.)

Here’s the hot topic I’ll talk of first: garleans. I personally do not play one as I prefer to play characters that would never be involved in a sense with the political agenda because in real life im too stupid to comprehend anything like that so i wouldn’t even know how my character would behave with the hot topics. I really do think people need to take a step back and see that everyone who is putting in their input is making solid points but personally I would never compare them to nazi germany though I see why people are generalising. I always saw it as tsardom of russia with the use of roman influence as well, something obvious in naming conventions and the way the ranks/monarchy(?) works but it’s not so clear what the main influences of most places in this game if you have a look at the bigger picture. Without like full on spoiling, its weird to have this view to me with the knowledge that ascians are behind this. Are you implying anyone who plays or was influenced by ascians is also under this umbrella?

Also why THE HELL WOULD YOU TAG SOMETHING KNOWING IT WOULD GET A LOT OF TRACTION AND RESPONSE THEN BE LIKE “you guys misunderstood, I was expressing my feelings” lol no. “ I don’t understand where this is coming from, and at this point, I don’t really want to.” then why did you even fucking bother do it in private dont tag it.

You are COMPLETELY valid to feeling uncomfortable, it is fine because with how much of this world we have there will be aspects some of us don’t like. You are not inclined to involve yourself with someone if they roleplay as a garlean but you do not need to start publicising it in a way that will paint the community in black and white when its truly a wider spectrum.

YOU CHOOSE WHO YOU INVOLVE YOURSELF WITH AND WHO YOU PLAY WITH, PLEASE GET AWAY FROM PEOPLE WHO GIVE YOU NEGATIVE FEELINGS OR YOU’LL SPREAD IT TO OTHERS.

from that initial and very brief tagged post there popped up many others and new discourse is arising, opening discussions about many things which is better then being blind to it all. but if you have personal grievances with someone and you state its over, let it be over. It’s not healthy behaviour. it’s also troubling to see someone complain a lot about the game and continue to play, no one is forcing you or holding a gun to your head. take breaks if you need to and play less frequently. like, real life is so much more important and there are people in this community that prioritise relationships with players etc.

Also, please stop fucking talking about mongolian/turkic/turkish culture like you know things. 99% of the big mouths in this community are americans. like majority are white americans.

over the course of this expansion i have had many people of varied backgrounds share with me some terrible experiences and i myself have seen some truly stupid shit.

WE ARE HERE TO HELP YOU LEARN OF OUR CULTURE AND WHERE TO CONTINUE DOING SO. DO NOT INTERPRET MEDIA AS ACCURATE REPRESENTATION OF CULTURE.

it is absolutely not hard to tag a post and ask around, someone will pop up. I’ve been doing my very best to let everyone i know that i can help with learning about my culture or to find someone who would be more then happy to explain and share with other cultures. But when you go off of a documentary you saw of Genghis khan or only know of the tourist white people scenes of istanbul you as a community say some TRULY dumb shit.

I like to try and be patient because i myself when approaching someone of a culture i admire and am curious about i want that in turn. But if you say to me things like “Ainu aren’t real” or “Tatar people have nothing in common with tribes from the Altai mountains” its hard to do so.

FFXIV regions are not just “Germany” “Turkey” “Mongolia”. If you think this, it’s clear to me you don’t know shit and are too lazy to explore, further just google shit its not that hard. I had someone tell me that my people could never be in this game since its “Straight up mongolia” fucks sake NO ITS NOT. The designs vary and i can see the differences in simple things like words because i actually bother to do research even coming from a turkic culture. There were some beautiful little things dropped that linked to not only my people but others like Uyghur and Altai. The only place in FFXIV i think could only have a singular influence is Kugane, because from a foreigner’s perspective that’s already interesting enough. Many people have grievances and real issues with how SE has handled Doma’s influences and no one ever talks about that. Representation for asia in media has turned into this mess of specific east asian countries, the trio that even then gets categorized into China/Japan with brief mentions of Korean culture.

Its frustrating. There are people who are happy to teach you. Who are willing to show what is wrong with the picture.

I have read several posts about Turkey/istanbul/Antalya. Yall fuckin weird you guys seem to think its in U.A.E or some shit with how you act. It’s in the Mediterranean/Europe/Asia/Middle East and there is no such thing as a specific looking Turkish person. You claim everyone is specifically white/brown, HELL NO. It’s a mixed nation and that’s the history of the land, if you had ever fucking stepped in turkey and spoke to any person on the street they’ll say their heritage that lead them to there. People claim Ala mhigo’s influences are turkey but i have yet to see that. As someone who has lived there and has heritage there and is strongly connected to that culture, i dont see it. sure the ala mhigan gown had patternings but thats also present in my nogai culture too because parts of turkey’s society descended from the line of the Kayi tribe. Just fucking LEARN TO READ GUYS. None of you guys even know what the altai mountains mean and i could sit and explain over and over again if you let people SPEAK.

Look at Thavnairian items. We have outfits that are completely different, a full length dress and then a bustier. you can’t start generalising things in video games to be one culture you have to realise most places in this game have several influences. We don’t know a lot but everything we have been given has been varied enough to pin point it to ONLY one influence.

I don’t want to just keep going about this simply because im growing frustrated.

The thing with Viera complaints. I think some are valid but some are stupid. For one as I make this post it hasn’t even been confirmed so there is no reason for policing Viera to a severe extent. Considering all the Ivalice content in game has been an alternate universe kind of thing its dumb as shit. But feol viera being made without understanding the knowledge that people who have played rw picked up is quite frustrating. As a community, its important to help people when we have information that others may need that they cant understand the context of.

I know people are worried about them being fetishized, that is my legitimate fear too as a huge ivalice fan. But this is a repeated cycle especially when we consider generalizations like miqo’te especially seekers and belly dancing or when au ra arrived and people thought xaela were genghis khan basically.

The game is not solid, there are so many holes in the lore and the plots and i know people hate that but we fill the gaps with our own opinions and theories. While I understand some people think we need to move forward in 2019 because “japan is xenophobic”, its a very difficult thing to do. THEY DO HIRE PEOPLE FOR CULTURE ADVISING. THEY TRAVEL OFTEN AND DEVELOP WITH THIS. IT’S NOT LIKE THEY WENT ON GOOGLE AND SAID “yeah a japan land would be fun” they literally have people hired specifically for this stuff. however, at the end of the day its a company that has yet to show it can evolve with the times. Its becoming more and more evident with the recent patterns of main titles in FF and side projects having so many issues in story/lore/management. remember 1.0 basically died being absolute garbage and this is salvaged from that.

its really late and i had a terrible evening so i may not be making the most sense but theres more important things to worry about then to make this game a miserable experience when it could be a huge learning opportunity for everyone. There’s no need to generalise people into categories because of characters they choose to develop but its important to note with majority of people standing up higher on the pedestal are those speaking for the minorities groups that have direct influences in the game.

also lol if you fucking say ainu aren’t real to me one more time i will fucking throttle you

#this ended up being ramblings which i seem to make monthly lol

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enigmatic-elegance · 7 years ago

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Take some positivity.

Vampire: Tag someone of whom you've been a longtime fan.

@thegreatnyehehe: Oh come on, how can you not be? Look, at first I thought he was just a silly character. Then I saw he was a silly character who put a ton of heart and effort into his work. When he makes those holiday posts and such they are comedic gold, I actually can’t help but chuckle. He’s brilliant.

Werewolf: Tag someone who is one-in-a-million and comes through when you need them.

@addie-the-pirate: This one was tough, because all of my friends are one in a million. But Addie, you’re a special case in my eyes. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who cared so goddamn selflessly. It’s crazy. It’s so crazy that at first I was actually cautious of you because I thought ‘no one can be THIS interested in another person, it must be a trick of some kind’. But in time I saw you are generally just an amazing, caring sort. I know I can rely on you, for guild stuff, for personal stuff, you’re a true friend. And the gays between Addie and Terra mend my soul.

@firebiter: Dude, sometimes you meet someone and just know you’re gunna click. You’re that someone. We first started to really talk one night and suddenly it slammed into 5 AM and we had been having some really deep chats on the server, on life, it was nuts. I was wrecked tired the next day, but smiling because I knew I had made a new friend. You’re always willing to step up when I need you, be it for operations or if I need to vent out my many, many grumpies. Love you dude.

Fairy: Tag someone who you see as an asset to the community at large.

@jazimina: Hands goddamn down. Don’t even need to think. The Royal Courier has been nothing but a boon to this community, helping guilds grow and people to spread their names. Beyond that, you drive people to their very best. Both by supporting others in their endeavors and providing such genuine love and positivity without asking for anything in return. You are what everyone on WrA should strive to be, including myself.

@susan-gampre: Girl, it takes some stock to make a brothel guild. Just because the server likes to go buck wild with that sort of thing. And you pull it off even in the face of adversity. To be honest, I think this shows the server that you can push the envelope but also do it in a way that does not step on toes or create conflicts. Keep doing you, we at Coldwall support it.

Jackalope: Tag someone who picked you up when you were down.

@grannyshanny and @soapiewhitacre: I’ll never forget what you two did for me. I was in bad, and I didn’t have an out. You both knew I would not stand up for myself, so you did it for me. That means more to me then I can ever say, and I’ve tried to say it a number of times already. Thank you both for being there when myself and the guild were in a bad place.

Phoenix: Tag someone who is a bright light on your dash.

@percy-dewdancer: I feel like he is going to disagree with this one, but whateva. Nah legit, since he left guard RP we don’t really interact much anymore because our two guilds don’t generally cross, but I still follow the homeboy because he posts interesting stuff. From music, to stories, to just being a snarky doggo, I can always get my fill of entertaining content from this guy.

@thebattlesheep: Beautiful and charming, both the character and the player in equal measure. I just need to drag you into RP more, because every time I see you mucking around on Tumblr it brightens my day!

Banshee: Tag someone who has looked out for you.

They don’t have a Tumblr, but I need to give a shout to Clemmentine (Jenny). She is my damn angel, for the years we’ve been RPing. She picked me up when I was falling, and with her love and inspiration I was pushed to make Coldwall. I adore that girl, always will.

Griffin: Tag someone whose friendship for you is priceless.

I’d love to tag @grannyshanny, @firebiter, @addie-the-pirate all over again, but I don’t wanna pull repeats.

@eldricceverton: DUDE WE GOTTA CHILL MORE MAN. You and I are already tight, but I also see you as the kind of guy that if we just sat down and had that one big talk™ we could be so damn solid. You are a good dude, and you’ve been there for me when I needed someone. In the times I have talked with you more personally, I see someone full of love and more then that, someone who wants to lift up those around him. Love you dude.

Minotaur: Tag someone who you see as a leader in some way.

@adhelin: If I didn’t have Coldwall, I know the first person I’d be going to asking to join is her. Not only because they make fantastic stories, but because Adhelin is a GM after my own heart. I see both a love for her guild as well as a fierce protective attitude toward it. I relate to those on a personal level. She’s a solid and caring leader.

Hellhound: Tag someone who you see as a guardian or protector in some way.

@kingofthewolves: My own personal guard dog. This guy and I have been RPing now for over a year, but beyond that I found a friend in them too. They look out for others, almost to a fault when they put others before themselves, and I know they always have my best interest at heart. Hell, with how absent I have been with classes, most folks would have dropped my ass. But they are still here, that alone is huge to me. I know if I ever need to go to bat, he’d be there beside me.

Unicorn: Tag someone who is So Good, So Pure™

@the-elf-mahat: I KNOW I KNOW. You are not so pure. ;) But when I think of someone who is just genuinely such a sweet soul, you’re ranked up there at the top. You just care so much for others, and it shines through in everything you do and say.

@xana-the-witchhearted: Again, maybe a little less pure. But if anyone wants an example of genuinely caring people, they don’t have to look beyond you. You joined this guild toward the very beginning and since that point you’ve been nothing but a positive influence. Not only that, but when I’m upset, you are always the first and sometimes only person who picks up on it and asks me if I’m okay. I don’t know how you can always tell..but it’s a gift and so are you.

@xerxes-jasper: Want some clams?

@luluarto: My sweet child, how you have grown. I am so proud of you. Work on your memes they are sub par.

Mermaid: Tag someone who is a positive influence on you.

@gwenya: I know you might be confused seeing yourself here but listen.. I know it took you a long time to come around to trust me and the guild. And I know what a huge step it was to make that jump, but you did it. Since being here, you’ve been OOCly so, so supportive and loving to this community. Offering gold, gifts, time, whatever people ask of you so selflessly. Not only that, but the fact that this guild could give you haven of a kind has made me love this place all the more. Your presence has made this a brighter place, and you are a positive force and don’t you forget it.

Bigfoot: Tag someone who seems bigger than life.

Yeah I’m going to have to cheat and tag @thegreatnyehehe again here. I mean for real this dude has become a server mascot what the hell even.

Dragon: Tag someone who you see as really dedicated to their muse.

@the-news-nerd: Dude, Elyza has been through so much shit, and still you endure. You’ve stuck by the character through it all. Moreso, when we talk, you won’t budge on the character at all even if OOCly it would get you into something you might enjoy. You’d rather stay true to your muse, and that is something I can relate to and deeply respect.

Afterthought

Look, there are a LOT of amazing people on this server, and even if I didn’t tag you, odds are you fit into one of these categories for me. These are the ones that came to mind first but by no means are they the only. Also, this is a call to any and all of you that are mutuals or follow but we have yet to RP. Please, please message me and let’s set up some time to do just that. Because I always want to meet more people and grow the list of amazing folks I know.

#ooc

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wastelandpizzas · 7 years ago

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Walls: pt. 1

As we continue the journey through the personal take of SS Shaun Park Sr. And his attempt to find his son, We find the General of the Minutemen at headquarters in Fort Independence.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Alright, Perkins, Garvey, on three!”

“One… Two… Three!!!” With one last shove we finished getting the last piece of the new, albeit temporary, north wall into place. It had been a grueling days work- though we had been restless from two days worth of waiting. The timbers from the thickets near Sanctuary had just arrived before dawn after a couple days worth of logging and cutting before Preston and I had even thought to head down to the Castle. The caravaneers had a hell of a time trying to manage the three Brahmin it took to haul enough lumber to do anything with. Being that the Commonwealth was, well, for lack of a better description, the Commonwealth, I was shocked to hear that Raiders, Gunners, and even Super Mutants stayed away from the caravan. It wasn’t everyday that a twelve man caravan went tromping through the Commonwealth, and much less frequent that it had a significant guard and still made it to its destination unscathed. One Brahmin master, two hands, and nine Minutemen, two of which were two of the same party from our raid on the Corvega plant earlier last month after another small group of raiders tried to hole themselves up in the old factory.

Preston had been on watch since three that morning looking for signs of our supply caravan on the south road and his face, since lunch, showed it. When they finally arrived, we had them use what cement we had salvaged from the breaking up the rubble over the entrance to the Castle’s tunnels to lay a foundation for the barracks and while the cement dried we started laying whole blocks along the edge of the wall and began to mortar them around the foundation. We had worked on putting up the wall frames for a couple hours after the cement hardened, and we were ready for a break. The two other weary Minuteman plopped down onto the ruined stone blocks off inside the fort, and after a quick look over the day’s work I joined them.

“Well, you really did mean that the walls needed work, didn’t you, General.” Preston took a long draught from his canteen before getting his words out.

“I did say that, didn’t I,” I followed Preston’s example and sat down to take a long breather. We finally had a wall set up on our northeast portion of the old star fort, the most vulnerable face to the greenskins over at the old Gwinnett pub. If I played the caravaneers right The Castle would have a new stone, or at least cement, wall to provide as a more permanent repair than the improvised barracks that our third builder, Captain Vern Perkins, brought to that rank after taking the killing shot of the Mirelurk Queen that had decided our headquarters looked as good a place as any to settle down, had planned to set up. We had plans to clear the rubble from the Northeast Bastion’s tunnel entry and try to cut a tunnel and new quarters when we had everything finished up, but that was arguably another year or two away. It took quite a bit of sweet talking, and frankly caps out the ass, but that nerve Mirna had finally agreed to set aside any cement or salvaged stone that her junkers and suppliers brought in to the city, 2500 caps upfront and 150 for each of the days she shipped more than 50 pounds our way. Cement, bricks and stone in Diamond City came at a premium given the state of the Fens after 211 years of direpair.

To make a long story short. the Minutemen were on the way to recovery. It had been nearly a year and a half since Quincy and since I had left the Vault. To say the least, we had what had once been the Northern suburbs of Boston aiding, enlisting, and paying into the Minutemen. It was something; we had a crew of 12 Regulars running active patrols around Sanctuary and the trading post and market at Starlight Drive-In which was only possible because 4 of those patrol men had cleared the Mole-rats living there once we had established Sanctuary as the main hub of the Minutemen north of Cambridge and Boston-proper, not to mention mounting support in the Fens. Hell we even had some a few Minutemen vets sent our way from somebody called Hancock over in Scollay Square. Though I hear it’s called Goodneighbor now, when I listen to the boys talk about it.

I must have been daydreaming at that point, because Preston’s hand clapping on my shoulder brought me back to.

“General, do think we’re done for today?”

“I’m not sure, Preston,” I started. Noticing Vern had made his way back to the radio tower for a minute, I called at him,

“Perkins, what’s going on?”

“Not sure, sir, radio just went haywire there for a second” Preston helped me up and I started heading over to the tower myself to see what was going on when one of the guards posted on the southwest bastion hollered at us three.

“General, Colonel Garvey, you’re going to want to see this!” I must have caught a second wind because I bolted straight up the rubble of the western wall to join the soldier who immediately just pointed out over at the parking lot and handed me his binoculars.

I saw what looked like a shimmer of bright blue for a second and did a double take when I saw what emerged. Something that looked like a tan-ish grey skinned, plastic man in what appeared to be combat armor of some kind. I had never seen anything quite like it before, and boy was I curious.

“Can you tell me what I’m looking at, soldier?” after Preston got a look he said something that reminded me of a conversation I had with a certain reporter.

“I haven’t seen one so heavily armored before, but the color gives it right away. General, that’s an Institute synth. That caravan was damn lucky they left a couple hours ago.”

I had heard a great deal about the Institute from Miss Piper, and if stories were to be believed, the Institute was the shadow over the Commonwealth that everyone feared. And with good reason, I had taken the opportunity to have someone scout out University Point and they reported crops still in the field, shops relatively untouched, but no people, no bodies, and no trace other than their material goods that people had even been there. He had found an old holotape at one of the terminals on the fringe of the ghost town and gave it to me upon his return. I hadn’t looked at it just yet but I figured -after seeing a genuine Institute construct- that it was as good a time as any to give the files a once over.

Once we were sure the lone synth wasn’t gunning for us, I jogged down the rubble slope back to my backpack sitting over by one of our building workbenches on the northeastern wall. It took a minute of digging to find the tape labeled U.Point. but when I did and popped it in I was enthralled.

It was a personal diary, it looked to have went back up to two years or so before I left the vault, roughly 2285. I sifted through the years worth of writing and a saw, close to the end a someone mention a mercenary, and that piqued my curiosity at first. I was intrigued on who this man the journal referenced was at first, then I realized I recognized the description, the newest face to haunt my sleep. A nearly bald man with a noticeable scar across the left side of his face wearing a leather jacket with short cut sleeves and an improvised piece of shoulder armor. Supposedly he came around for a few days asking about any significant technology that the town knew about. And by the looks of the writing he came back with friends, the well armed kind. That child thieving bastard sold those bastards to the Institute. I unclipped my Pip-Boy and threw it into my backpack.

I must have been perusing the journal longer than I thought I had, because the sun was now setting in between the skyscrapers of downtown. I didn’t want to go to bed thinking about the massacre. I still had plenty of those dreams from the 2060s and the war with China and needed something to distract myself, so I relieved our night watchman once I had grabbed a bite to eat after the night fell. After a quick route across the walls and some of the scaffolding, I sat down next to the broken down artillery-piece on the northwest bastion. I looked over at the parking lot where the synth had shown up. Seeing a light flicker around a couple times, I wondered if I could make an easy target of the metal man, but after a closer look it was some dogs that got ahold of the synth and his gun. I couldn’t vent my rage against my son’s kidnapper and I wasn’t about to do something rash like rushing out into a pack of feral dogs.

I just wanted to seethe out every little bit of anger I had pent up at that bastard and get on with putting a bullet in his brain, after he led me to my son.

But for all the rage in the world, it wouldn’t bring Nora back. If I just had her with me, I’d not be this damned mess. Together we would have found Junior. With her keeping me focused I wouldn’t get caught by every bleeding heart farmer who was dealing with raider issues or the honest to God threats of this post-apocalyptic, radioactive, barely recovering wasteland. Though thinking it through, it was better that she didn’t see this, see me like this.

“Hey, General, I noticed you were still up” Preston seemingly popped out of nowhere with a couple beers

“Holy shit, Preston, don’t sneak up on me like that.” it was the second time he had caught me unawares that day, Im damn glad we hadn’t gone out to find some raiders or patrol the Fens and Hangman’s Alley. As off as I was then I was no good even for watch.

“You looked a little distracted after you read that holotape from U. Point. There something you gotta say?” I’d say this about Preston, he’s a good squad commander, and he’s got a way of telling when a man needs a beer.

#fallout 4 #sole survivor #preston garvey #noncompanions #the castle #minutemen

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