Phew, My Last Weeks Of Work Are Now Complete >:)

Phew, my last weeks of work are now complete >:)

I loved Dratchet and Ratchlock since the very beginning of my attachment towards Transformers, first TFP Ratchet…..but yeah….two of my favorites character….plus Keferon’s Mech AU…..I had to make my own thing about it.

A story….no…an illustration ! I couldn’t choose. So I did both :}

—————————————————

That was not the first time Ratchet came back to his private lab angry, but this time, yelling at his superiors, and at the system, and basically at evverything that could be yelled at except the pilotd while leaving the manufacture, was certainly the last. He quit. That was enough,

you don’t win a war with feelings they said

well yes,

exactly,

but you win a war with soldier, and frying their mind before they have their first fight because you want them to be more perfectionned ? That was a little counter productive.

So he gave up. They are on their own now.

The lightly humming of his car was barely enough to keep him awake, it have been a long time since he last returned home, usually, he stayed at his work place, to have more time to sleep, but then, he was sleeping even less. An endless vicious circle, things were often like that.

But all of that was over for him.

He granted these young greenhorn with his experience, and what did they do ? Ignored his advices. Sending pilots to death. So now, he had himself out of the infernal machinery. This mindless waste of human life, even where this is what they tried to save was absurd.

Phew, My Last Weeks Of Work Are Now Complete >:)

In the middle of his quiet and late ride, he heard a noise. Rumbling, was it the engine ? As he stopped the car backroad to check, the noise wasnt stopping. Came from the sky, military patrol ? He raised his two tired eyes on the sky and saw a shining rail approaching his forest, falling fast. Not quintesson shaped, and with the gaze of an experimented biomechanist, Ratchet identified a mech.

At this moment, its violently crashed on the ground, behind the trees at maybe three or four miles away. No matter how hard he argued with the scientist sooner this day or how bad he wanted to say fuck to all of this death industry who killed young soldiers, he could do something for the one trapped inside the mech....maybe.... the man regained his car as fast as possible and urgently headed for the crash area.

Deafened sound of tires on the damaged road. Ratchet was already projecting, mentally stocktaking the tools he took with him, and lucky enough for the poor pilot, he quit with almost all of his material, and even if it was mainly mechs repairing material, he also bought some instruments which were used for the subtle neuromedicine between human and mech. Could adapt some of it and stabilize the pilot....then he may have the time to go home and grab proper materials. If there was life there was hope.

" bold of him to crash himself just the day i insulted all of his hierachy".

He frowned. Almost there.

The trees nearby were crushed and uprooted. A flickering pink light catched his gaze.

Almost immediately, the Ratchet analyzed the mech. It was different. He didnt know in wich country it was made but that almost looks alien. The curves and shapes, busted and burned on several places were demonstrating an incredible display of genius ingeniery he could just admiring. But time was not for being amazed on plating.

Someone was trapped there.

He stopped and parked his car in front of a fallen tree, rushing to the car's trunk, taking few indispensable objets, including some of them to help a safe disconnection between pilot/mech. In case he wasnt out already. And a crowbar, the cockpit might be stuck, seeing all the damages the mech has taken...

The sound of slightly wet grass under his feet was covered by a frenetic noise of aeration. Ratchet listened to it, while cautiously approaching the unknown mech. It almost sounded like a breath, but was certainly a depressurisation issue. The mech had fallen from so high on the sky....

The damaged plating were hot, probably from atmosphere friction. He raised his crowbar and his eyes followed the curves of the chestplates, searching for a familiar shape, that could lead him to the injured pilot inside. His gaze stopped on a deep wound, that might have cut through the cockpit.

The engineer stepped on the hot metal, his thick boots preventing him from feeling the heat, and he started searching for a hint....anything that could be a mechanism, anything that could open this damn mech !

Ratchet considered the damaged chest plate he noticed earlier. The surroundings of the wound were leaking bright pink, a very unusual color for fuel. Another of these definitively strange things about the mech. Again....not the time for that. Maybe if he could widen the gap, then he would be able to have an idea of what was going on under this armor.

He tapped the plate, -it was starting to cool down- with one of his finger. It was a very little tap, but the whole mech startled. A hiss of pain, recognisible easily by an emerite engineer-but-i-fix-people-too, it had come from the head of the mecha. Was this modele controlled from the head, like Vortex ? But Vortex was insanely huge for a mech, way taller than this one. He moved careful, noticing the shaking of his support.

"You hear me, kid ? Its going to be ok. You crashed in a safe area.".

He spoke in his medic tone, wich mean, of course brusque, serious, but also reassuring and calm.

He mumbled about the mech's features and tiny words of comfort while reaching for the head.

A red light, not regular and rather epileptic was coming from the head, and while he was almost there, on all four of his limb to keep balance, Ratchet saw it.

A spectacularly humanoid face, with sculpted nose and lips was tensed in a painful expression, frowning, but the thing who trapped his gaze was the two optics....

....staring back at him.

Mechs dont stare. Their eyes are glowing, oftenly to mimick human face, after all, human are pretty prideful creature, no point in piloting big ass metal titan if no one could tell these where their creation.

What human couldnt mimick with technologie, on the other hand, was the subtle expression between trying to evualuate a threat, his own injuries, and looking rather on the verge of death but also ready to tear any enemy's limb appart with its teeth.

With just one....very long....look at the other's eye, Ratchet was suddenly understanding what was going on.

Well....probably not but he knew what he had to save.

The pilot, the pilot he had to save.

The mech was the pilot.

He was the one he had to save.

He stopped trying to -certainly- open his chest. If it wasnt good for human it probably wasnt for living technology.

The giant technological humanoid seemed in a high distress, exhaling a lot of air from his vents, his eye still intensely staring at him and the engineer doubted his usual technique -including trying to make himself as small as possible- would work.

"Its going to be okay Kid. I can help you. There is nothing here that want to harm you".

He did his best to convey all of these emotions with his facial expression and gaze, still firmly watching back at him.

"the world better wait till im home and officially retired before killing me".

The mech's gaze -damn it was so more living than ANY human made machinery- seemed to soften a bit but still radiated with suspicion.

Deadlock had been in several bad situations. It happened quite a lot when a specie of giant aliens with tendrils tried to invade your homeland, and he was ready to it.

Trained to kill, and to do it efficiently.

And he was *good* at it.

This time was just another of these ‘i went too far in my excitation’ moments, and he has crashed on a random planet he hoped was not inhabited. He landed hard, and pieces of his ship must’ve been thrown near his location.

And now, now there was an organic like no one he ever saw, and the organic was on his *lap* and he had the kindest warmest eyes he ever saw.

And these eyes were directly looking at his own eyes, and the well named ‘Deadlock’ was starting to wonder if he finally had reunited with the Allspark. His pained and tenseful grin faded a little and he tried to move his head forward, searching a better point of view to watch the singularity in front of him.

Ow.

Moving hurt.

Some sound came out of the organic’s mouth, probably a language. He didn’t had the proper tools to decode it but the tone of the language was extremely….comforting ? Soft ?

This was scary.

He wasn’t used to be welcomed like that after a fight.

Usually it was either another fight, either the yelling of a superior, either nothing at all. But this actual living being was carefully examinating his chestplates, and he recognized the gestual of someone who was used to heal. A medic perhaps ?

He tried to move something, maybe a hand, to reach for the pale organic, to be sure he was real, but his body was rather uncooperative, from what he could say, one of his legs was missing, and a lot of wound were releasing energon on the ground he couldn’t saw.

The high probabilities of bleeding out and crash was an issue.

He let his head hang, too tired to watch for every moves of the organic, and barely aware of his environment.

There must be a big problem somewhere….

He confusely thought, while watching the stars.

Must be a bigger injury I haven’t saw……..

Ratchet saw the bright light coming from the alien’s eyes slowly fading, and cold swear ran through his back. Yet, he could still say the soldier was alive, the lights of his body were shining, not a lot, but it was enough. He looked at his first aid kit with disappointment. That wouldn’t be very efficient since the form of life he was trying to preserve wasn’t a tiny human. The nearest thing he could compare the Mech to was….well their own mechs, or eventually….Quintesson. An horrible mess of organic and technology. It was partially thanks to their weird constitution that Ratchet had been able to make sense with the ‘he is alive’ thought.

At this moment and with this material, he couldn’t help the kid, and didn’t possess enough knowledge to tell if he was even dying or not.

He had already an idea of what to do….to fix him, at least trying to, but it involved several objects he hadn’t right now. Leaving to search for these so called objects was risking to let an injured alone, he couldn’t take that risk. He was trapped with the mech, and had to hurry and find something. He stood and reached for more adapted material in his car, trying to find something…. Anything.

Surprisingly, the most useful artifact he came across was his electric screwdriver and a bunch of screw along with a long metallic cabke. A parallel between human stitch, with sewing threads and the material he had with him right now. He could manage something between human fixing and mech repairing, that was what the ‘bio’ in bioengineer stood for.

The kid would be ok. He would live and tell Ratchet why he fell from the sky, and maybe if he saw his friend Jazz….out there…….

—————————————————

:)) @keferon

(I swear I’m not insane, your AU is just kinda giving me infinite drawing stamina lmao)

"Awakening the Sleeping Giant" p2

people seemed to like the first post so have a little more :)

might put it on ao3 later or something

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

The language barrier is a problem, Ulchtar finally decides once they touch down, and his new friend seems to agree.

He’d hit a snag in trying to describe where to go when he realized the Giant had been asleep for longer than English had existed as a language. Thankfully, gestures seemed to be more-or-less universal, so he was able to get across the idea of where to go eventually. They’re currently nestled in a cave somewhere in the Scandinavian mountains. It’s a remote place, especially after the alien attacks in the area a few years back. But he knows that this isn’t a permanent solution.

They need to learn to communicate before the inability to do so gets them both killed.

Which is why they’re now taking turns scratching out a massive diagram on the cave floor with sticks…Well, a stick and a small tree. They’d been trading words back and forth for a good two hours now. As best as he could tell, the Giant’s language was actually quite simple—consisting mainly of nouns, verbs, descriptors, and modifiers to those two things. It wasn’t particularly elegant, but it was versatile enough.

They’d started with things that were easily drawn-out or mimed: things like “person,” “me,” “you.” There was sort of a pronoun system, and the Giant…seemed to be a “he,” or an equivalent. Then they’d tried to build from there—he’d figured out some of the verbs, and how to phrase things as a question, and from there the two of them had hit it off. Now he was trying to get the guy up to speed, because everything would be a whole lot easier if they knew what was going on.

“So…[me-category-] human.” He points to the crude little figure of a human he’s drawn, and the Giant nods along.

How to explain the war…? “Humans [-planet-creation-positive-] Earth.” He points to the rough map of the world they’ve drawn out, then to the Giant’s rather detailed drawing of a kaiju. “[Planet-creation-negative-] Earth.”

They lean down a little closer to the drawing. “Quintesson,” he says with what sounds like outright distaste. Ulchtar’s a little taken aback by that.

“[Question.] Quintesson [-them. Name?]”

“[Name-positive.] Quintessons [negative-negative-negative.]” They confirm. Okay, triple negatives, so this guy hated the damned things just as much as anyone else. Maybe it wasn’t just Earth under siege…?

“Quintessons [motion-inside] Earth…[creation-negative] humans.” He’s painfully aware of his limited vocabulary, hoping it’s enough to get the point across. The Giant seems to pick up on the intent, tensing up just a little.

He continues. “Humans…[Eyes-positive-you. Humans-creation-negative, desire-negative.] So... [negative-brain-do-positive-you. Creations-do-similar.]” We found you. We didn’t want to die. We studied you. Tried to make things like you.

The Giant whirls towards him at that, picking him up to hold him at eye level. The grip is just tight enough to hurt, just enough to feel like a threat. “[You…complete-negative-me?]”

Ulchtar waves his hands in front of his face frantically, mortified. Oh, he’s really fucked up this time. He didn’t realize the Giant remembered getting taken apart like that. “[M-me-do-negative! Complete-positive-repeat!]” He sputtered. I put you back together!

It wasn’t technically a lie. He hadn’t exactly done it out of the kindness of his heart, but it wasn’t a lie.

The glare softens just a bit, the grip relaxing. He's not in immediate risk of death anymore.

They keep talking for a few hours, until it gets too dark to really see what he's doing anymore.

He hmms, trying to think of the right words…

“Uh…” He points up at the sliver of sky above them. “[Sky. Light-negative. Me-vision-negative.]”

“[…Recharge-you? Eyes-positive-me.]” He was offering to keep watch while Ulchtar slept, he mentally translated.

He nodded, fumbling mentally to figure out how to respond to that. “[…Gratitude-positive.]”

Then, another thought occurred to him. “[You. Name. Question?]”

The Giant paused for a second at that, wings drooping just a little bit. “[…name-knowledge-negative. Memory-negative-negative.]”

…oh.

Ulchtar can’t help but feel a little bad for asking now. He tries to shift the topic a bit, pointing to himself. “[Me. Name.] Ulchtar.”

That gets a tilt of the head. “[You. Name. Sound-similar…Star-sound-positive-positive-pitch-positive?]” In this language, the name and the phrase do sound kind of alike, actually. He laughs at that.

“Star…scream? [Desire-name. Name-sound-positive-positive-positive.]” He adds three positives for emphasis, because it does sound way more badass than “Ulchtar.”

The ground shakes just slightly, and he realizes the Giant is laughing.

Don't get too attached, he reminds himself. They could betray you any second. He's just as dangerous as these Quintessons if he wants to be.

“Oh, knock it off…” He curls up on a relatively comfy-looking patch of cave moss, bundling himself up in some extra clothes in lieu of anything warmer. The cave’s warmer than outside, but still a bit chilly even with the ambient heat from the Giant’s engines heating it up.

It doesn’t stop him from eventually slipping into sleep.

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

The mech with no name shifts his weight just a little, trying to get comfortable in his hiding spot among the mountains. It’s not much—just a little nook in the rocks where it’s tough to spot him—but it’s better than being out in the open, as badly as he wants to stretch out his wings and fly again.

He doesn’t want to put the human—Starscream—Ulchtar—in danger.

Ulchtar’s the only companion he has in this world right now, after all.

So he’s probably going to stick with him for a bit—in no small part because he really doesn’t know where else he’d go. Most of his memory is long since corrupted, throwing him all kinds of errors whenever he tries to think back to before.

He knows, in broad strokes, what he is. He knows he’s a mechanical lifeform. He knows he’s a shapeshifter of some sort. He knows he can fly, and is probably designed to explore space. He knows what the parts inside of him are—what a spark is and that he needs to drink energon to survive. He knows the Quintessons want him dead.

But he doesn’t know who he is. His name. Where he came from. What his own species is called…

Does he have a species?

This whole world was filled with organic life, and nothing else—it was clear that the other machines he’d seen in that laboratory weren’t alive, but rather artificial constructs. They resembled him, but only superficially. He can’t feel their sparks, let alone any sort of EM field—something even the organics of this world have, albeit very faint ones.

Which leaves him with a very frightening question.

Am I alone?

His internal clock is telling him he’s been on this planet for six million years, trapped in stasis.

Surely someone must’ve looked for him, right? One of his kind, maybe? Surely six million years would’ve been long enough for a search party to find him.

If nobody had ever come looking for him, then…then either there was nobody left to send, or he’d mattered so little that nobody had ever bothered to remember him.

He wasn’t sure which hurt more: being alone, or being nobody.

Something wet drips onto his face.

Terrible time for rain, he thinks to himself.

But when he looks up, there’s not a cloud in the sky.

How odd…

He brushes it away, trying not to think about the question hanging over his head.

The night after that is largely uneventful, up until he notices a strange blue-green light on the horizon.

He pokes his head through the entrance. Was dawn supposed to come this early? Was it usually that color?

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

When he’s exhausted, Ulchtar is a pretty heavy sleeper.

That said, the fact that the Giant doesn’t wake him up when he moves away is still damned impressive. No, he only wakes up when it starts getting cold again. Still groggy, it takes him a few seconds to realize his vanished from his spot—something that makes him snap awake instantly in a panic.

He looked up towards the surface. Had he been abandoned? Was the Giant going back to—

Oh.

He sees his companion’s winged silhouette just beyond the mouth of the cave, illuminated in blue and green and violet.

He’s staring at something.

Ulchtar creeps closer, and quickly understands why. There’s an aurora snaking across the sky in full force above the mountains, and the Giant watches in wonder.

His wings twitch when Ulchtar draws near, as if sensing him somehow. “Starscream [recharge-positive?]” He asks. It seems like the nickname is sticking.

“[Recharge-positive],” he agrees. It’s another half-truth; he was sleeping fine until he got cold.

The Giant points up at the aurora, looking very confused. “[Occurrence. Name. Question?]”

“Aurora borealis.”

“[Common-positive? Threat-positive? Question?]”

“[Common-negative. Threat-negative.]” Ulchtar assures him.

He seems to relax a bit at that. “[Eye-similar…sky-heat-positive-light-positive.]”

“Yeah, kinda…” He really does not have the vocabulary to explain how the hell an aurora works. "The sky set itself on fire" is as good an explanation as any.

They nod along. “[Vision…positive-positive-positive.]”

That’s a lot of words to say “it’s pretty,” Ulchtar thinks to himself with a little smile, but jolts when his friend’s wings suddenly flatten against his back, an expression of…something like recognition on his face.

“[Name. Me. Memory-negative-now-positive. Sky-heat-positive-light-positive!]” He puts his hands together and looks to Ulchtar almost expectantly, as if he wants him to try translating this name too.

"...Skyfire," he decides after a few seconds.

The look "Skyfire" gives him at that...He's trying his best not to get attached, to do his best impression of a chessmaster moving his pawns around, but by God, if push came to shove he would kill for that smile.

Tags

transformers tf mecha universe skyfire jetfire starscream transformers fanfiction maccadams I'mma need more to this They're so sillyy!!! I love how the two are just trying to communicate despite the language barrier Silly idiots being silly idiots

92 notes View Post

coffeefiction

4 months ago

*opens the window* *gets out*

Tags

i love them so much transformers tf mecha universe tf swerve tf blurr tf swindle You're all f***k in the head and I love it I wanna cherish them and hold them They had enough But the community said not enough

376 notes View Post

coffeefiction

4 months ago

Here's more incorrect qoutes for @keferon mecha Au to fuel everyone's angsty soul.

First Aid: Can you come out?

Blurr: Yeah sure, give me a sec..

Blurr: First Aid, I'm gay

First: *visible twitching* I already know that, come out to the car

Blurr: oh..ok

Blurr: Swerve I'm gay

Swerve who is currently on his alt mode: We are literally dating!

________________

Prowl; You really put aside everything and came all this way for me? How did you all even get here so fast?

Jazz: Several traffic lights

Swerve: Three counts of resisting arrest, one for each of us

Blurr: Roughly thirteen cans of energy drinks

Jazz: and that is not our car.

Deadlock who is the car: Hey Prowl

Prowl: what the frag?!

__________________

Rodimus: Isn't it weird that people kill mosquitoes just because they're annoying?

First Aid: Damn, if people did that to each other, Vortex would've killed everyone years ago.

__________________

Someone holding a gun to First Aid's head; what happens if I pull this trigger? Heaven?

First Aid: Bold of you to assume I'll go to heaven.

_________________

Jazz: you know, Prowl, when you generalize, you tell general...lies.

Prowl: ......

Prowl: Are you trying to teach me moral lesson through puns?

________________

Swerve to Blurr: Would you like to stay for dinner?

Jazz from the kitchen: would you like to stay forever!?!

_________________

Jazz: Wow, this parking is as straight as I am

Swerve first time driving an actual car: I know I should be more focus on the fact you just came out, but HOW FUCKING DARE YOU INSULT MY PARKING

_________________

Swerve: *Sneaking around the facility trying to get to Blurr*

First Aid from the distance who's high on the shit Pharma gaved him: *Watching Swerve phase through a wall* There goes my monthly does of Swerve

_______________

Prowl: Are you crying?

Jazz, try to cut onions: No, it's just the onion, they-

Prowl grabbing the Onion with force: What the frag did you say to Jazz?

Tags

transformers jazz tf mecha universe tf vortex transformers jazz tf first aid tf mecha au transformer prowl i should really stop procrastinating and write stories macaddam transformers incorrect quotes incorrect qoutes Swerve transformers deadlock transformers blurr jazzprowl Can we call Jazz and Prowl's dynamic Tactical dance Or is there already a much more cooler name for it??

251 notes View Post

coffeefiction

1 year ago

Love Binds Part 4 ( Wally Darling x Reader)

Here's part 4! Sorry it took a while I have been busy and I just recently got back from a trip!

Hope you guys enjoy!!

Love Binds Part 4 ( Wally Darling X Reader)

"I'm going to go follow them," Wally stated unexpectedly while in conversation with Veronica. When the woman looks up at the moppet, who is already standing, her gaze is filled with confusion. "What?" she asks, puzzled, hoping Wally would clarify.

"I'm going to go follow them," he stated again, as Veronica drank her tea, she asked, "Who?" With reluctance in his voice, he answered, "You know...them?...(Y/N)?" "Are you sure about that?" she asks, only to receive a nod in return. She glanced at Wally, puzzled, before asking, "Why?- Hold on, do you even know where they are?" He hesitated but answered, "I-I think?"

Veronica merely sighs and grins at Wally. "Alright, I'll go with you," she said as she rose up. Wally stares at the woman, perplexed. "What? - Why?" Wally asks, Veronica laughs slightly. "To help you look for them, silly! After all, you do have a bit of a track record of getting confused with the roads," she said, which was true; Wally has a track record of being confused.

"Now wait here; I'm going to go get my stuff; I doubt this will be a short trip," she remarked, prompting Wally to turn away sheepishly. Veronica merely smiles and embraces him firmly before letting go to go home to retrieve some of her belongings.

Wally sighed as he approached his bag in his room. As he entered, he saw a piece of jewelry. He studied it after taking it up: it's a thin chain that extends to the bottom of the sternum that is attached to a little, medium-gold spiral. To put it bluntly, the necklace looks great. Despite the fact that he has no recollection of it being there or having such a thing in the first place. Nonetheless, it looks great, and something in him tells him to wear it, so he does.

The necklace fits him wonderfully in the mirror! It complements his blue sweater vest quite nicely. He fixes his hair; he had it down for who knows how long, and he desperately wants his beloved pompadour back. He knows you wouldn't appreciate seeing him in such a state. Looking like a mess and all.

Grabbing the hairbrush, he began brushing and combing his hair carefully. He picked up his hairspray and began to apply it to his hair. When he inhales the spray, he coughs slightly, but when he looks in the mirror, he thinks he looks okay. He was going to reach for something when he spotted something in the mirror. He stares closely at his reflection, searching for what he saw, though it must have been a trick of the light. But he was certain he saw something in his eyes; perhaps he was imagining.

He collects his stuff and heads downstairs, where he sees Veronica, who appears to be in good spirits. "All set!" she informs Wally. He nodded, and they both walked out, shutting the door behind them. Both talking to one another as they made their way to the car. "I'm a little excited for this trip" Veronica express and Wally smiles, happy to see that his friend is joyful about leaving the neighborhood. " We should stop by at some places to get snacks though," she said, Wally hums and agreed, thinking it might be the best to do so as he's not sure how far away you are, only that he knows where it is and something is nudging him to go there.

They climbed inside the car, putting their belongings in the back seat. "Ready?" Veronica questioned, and he nodded. "Ready,". He starts the car and drove away. The area appeared somewhat foggy, but that may have been due to last night's rain. "It sure is foggy today," he commented, and the woman next to him agreed. "Maybe it's from the rain yesterday," she said, and he nodded. Veronica even believes it's due to the rain.

"Say, shouldn't we tell the others we're leaving?" Veronica questioned, peering out the window to view the misty surroundings. Wally merely drove on. "No, I don't think so; I think I know where they would be, probably a couple of hours from here," he responded, unsure of the distance.

"But what if they get worried?" Veronica wondered. Wally pauses and responds, "They wouldn't; the drive isn't that far." With uncertainty(?) in her voice, she adds, "Are you sure?" "I think.". He notices her open her mouth to say something, only to have her lips close. They pass the trees that surround the neighborhood, now driving on a highway.

"What if Y/N gets upset? I mean, we're just randomly showing up at their house!" Veronica pointed out after a few minutes of driving. This caused Wally to abruptly halt and slam the brakes on their car. "Jesus!-W̷̨̻͊͘a̶̞̹͂l̴͈̩̆s̴̟̄!-Hey...are you ok?" Veronica ask, worried. "You're right, w-we....we can't just show up there all of a sudden...." he said sadly, looking down and gripping the stirring wheel tightly, cursing himself for being so stupid. "Maybe we should turn back?" she stated, maybe she's right; maybe they should just turn back and forget about this trip ever existing. Maybe he's just spiraling down and he needs to lie down-No! Wally shook his head.

"No, if they get mad then so be it, neighbor, I...I want to apologize to them for being such a bad friend. It had always been me and them ever since we moved to the same neighborhood. I miss them and I want their company back....and if not, then at least apologizing to them might put me at ease." He said, "And even if they get upset, it's fine! I'll take it all just for them!" Wally is being stupid; he should know that he is.

"You're a stubborn man" she huffs and crosses her arm, Wally chuckles "I-I know, they influence me to be one, I think" he stated. "Are you sure about this?" she questioned, and he nodded, despite the fact that he shouldn't. "If we stop at a gas station, I'll call Barnaby just in case," Veronica added, and Wally had to ponder for a moment about who Barnaby was. He feels stupid for forgetting his nice gray—wait, blue—neighbor. Barnaby was blue. "Are you alright?" Veronica asked, he sighed and replied. "Yeah, don't worry, neighbor," reassuring her.

For a moment, they were followed by silence. Veronica would gaze at Wally, seeing his face shifts into a specific expression, till she eventually questioned, "What's wrong?" Wally simply shrugs and drives on, as if the question does not exist. "Wally, what's wrong?" she questioned once again. "Nothing's wrong, neighbor," he uttered, a little aggressively. "Clearly, there is one; you're making that face when there's something wrong," she pointed out. For a brief period, the two sat in silence again until Wally expressed. "I thought Barnaby was gray; I kind of feel stupid that I thought he was gray,"

"If it makes you feel any better, I thought Barnaby was yellow, like the necklace I gave you." It didn't.

Wally hums and continues to drive. "Wait, you gave me this?" he asks, motioning to his necklace. "Why yes! I gave it to you before I left, didn't I?" she says, prompting Wally to pause. "I guess...I was sure I found it in my room," he trailed off. "No, I gave it to you; you're just confused as usual," she responded, and Wally sighed. Perhaps she's correct; maybe he's getting things mixed up.

Wally pulled off at a gas station after two hours of traveling. He and Veronica exited the car, with Veronica heading into the convenience store to buy something and maybe phone Barnaby to notify him of their unexpected disappearance. Wally glances around and notices that everything appears to be quiet and foggy. Granted, it had been foggy beforehand, but the fog is more evident, reminding him of loneliness in some ways. (You are alone in this world, there is no one to rely on except the fog that helps dull all the sorrow and despair that exists within oneself, where it is possible to die alone, where it is possible to die alone, where it is possible to die alone, where it is possible to-).

"Wals?" He snapped out of his thoughts upon hearing your voice. Turning around to look, he only saw Veronica. "Are you ready to go?" she asked ever so kindly, and he nodded. Gods, he felt dumb for assuming it was you; he was convinced it was you who had uttered his name. Is he imagining things? Is he confusing Veronica and you? He hopes not; it would be impolite to mistake something for someone who isn't present. "Yeah, let's go," Wally said, getting into the car, fastening his seatbelt, and starting the engine. "Say, neighbor," he trailed off, "did you inform Barnaby about us leaving?" Veronica nodded, saying she had, and Barnaby had said good luck and he'd tell the others. Wally smiled at that and kept driving while the fog slowly engulfed the station, obscuring it from their sight.

tags: @venus-rome @wowzerswithmorewows @curiosityscrewedthatcat @mythjustiice @smilesdarling @mortallypleasantzombie @thecastanova

Tags

wally darling welcome home welcome home puppet show wally welcome home wally darling welcome home wally darling x reader wally x reader wally x you wally darling x you wally darling fanfic wally x y/n wally darling x y/n

209 notes View Post