#I saw one example of how to handle delusions that stuck with me - how not to deny them outright while also not reinforcing them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fallout4holmes · 6 years

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Far Harbor 7

Valentine and I returned to Far Harbor in the morning to find a Miss Nanny model robot talking to Captain Avery. The robot introduced herself as Pearl, and said she was looking for a detective. Apparently the staff at the hotel on the cliff were distressed by the lack of a response when they tried to call the police.

A staff of robots who hadn’t realized the world had ended, and now wanted help with a murder investigation. At least it was different. The hotel was swarming with ferals, as should have been expected. In fact, I assumed this whole thing was simply going to be a macabre misunderstanding, an example of a robot's programming unable to adjust to dramatic change.

Then we saw the Vault door.

“Well, well,” said Valentine, “this place just got a little more interesting.”

“Indeed. I shudder to think what sort of experiments they had planned for the hotel residents.”

Never in my wildest nightmares could I have conceived what we found inside. The Vault was a plush luxury hotel, every possible need of its residents tended to by a staff of robots. We were met by the head of staff, a Mr. Handy called Maxwell, who led us to the scene of the crime where two of the… residents, were arguing.

“Goodness,” Valentine said.

“I would have used much stronger language,” I muttered.

“No need to be crass while we're working.”

“Normally I'd agree, but this seems an appropriate exception.”

The residents were human brains encased in glass domes atop mechanical cylinders with simple robotic arms and caterpillar wheels. They could speak, and did so, shouting at each other around the toppled form of another one, the glass protecting the brain smashed in. Maxwell managed to interrupt, asking them to return to their quarters while the detectives investigated.

“Your residents are robots?” I asked as they left.

“Not robots, Detective. Well not exactly anyway. I believe the term they use is 'robobrain.’ Back before the war, the residents decided the best way to wait it out was to put their brains inside robotic chassis.”

“I guess someone wasn't a fan of robobrains,” Valentine commented as he looked down at the smashed glass, “At least not this one.”

Maxwell gave us the name and occupations of all five remaining “robobrains” and we began. It was surreal, to put it lightly. No, I must be honest, it was mad. We found the Overseer’s office and learned the Vault was originally intended as a grand social experiment; a lower working class would be housed in a cramped wing of the Vault while an elite rich lived in luxury… but the door wouldn’t open when it came time for the masses to enter. As Maxwell said, the rich residents had decided even before the war to gain immortality as robobrains, and so the Overseer was stuck as the sole experiment, the one person who had to live with ‘these assholes’ as he put it. For their part, the robobrains descended into a mild madness of delusion and banality… until one of them decided to commit murder.

There were limited options as to who the killer could be, and the solution was ultimately fairly simple, though certainly unique. I’d never had a case where the murderer stole the victim’s voice to fake his own death before. Ultimately, Vault 118 was a surreal, macabre distraction from the drama of the island. It was almost refreshing to deal with something as straightforward as murder born from greed, as terrible as it may be to say so. At the same time, Vault 118 is little more than a lush Hell of its residents’ own devising.

We returned to town and were met by Dr. Wright. Teddy, as he insists I refer to him, heard about what I’d done to assist around town, and had an idea for turning around the town’s attitude toward me. There is an old ritual called “The Captain’s Dance,” a ancient rite of passage that hasn’t been completed in a long time. It involves chumming the water and fighting what comes. If I can complete it, it’ll earn the respect of the town.

Valentine is doubtful. I wanted another opinion, so I went to the best source of information on Far Harbor and the island. Longfellow’s initial response was not encouraging.

“You want to what?! Cap’n, I know you can handle yourself in a fight, but there’s a reason this old tradition faded away. Too many people hoping to be Captain ended up dead.”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, “But will it work?”

“Assumin’ you don’t die, sure it’ll get people to respect you, but why the hell do you care?”

“I don’t give a damn about their opinion of me, Longfellow. To be perfectly blunt, the people in that town need a reminder that monsters can be fought and beaten, and maybe not every stranger that comes to town is trouble. I’m tired of seeing nothing but suspicion and despair everytime I say hello to someone.”

He sighed, and turned to Valentine, “And you’re just going along with this, metal man? Ain’t you supposed to be his friend?”

Valentine was mildly offended, “You think I haven’t tried to talk some sense into him?”

“You’re stronger than him, ain’t ya?”

“Not particularly fond of the idea of knocking my partner unconscious,” he frowned. “You’re welcome to try locking him up, but he’ll get out.”

The old hunter scowled. “… well, hell, cap’n, if you’re dead set on this foolishness, I guess I’m gonna have to go along with you. Can’t have your death hauntin’ me, got enough reasons to drink as it is.”

I was not cavalier, I knew exactly how dangerous this undertaking would be… I thought. After all, I'd defeated everything that has tried to eat me so far. This would be dangerous, but survivable. I had plenty of ammunition, a few grenades, and friends at my back. There was no sign of an angler’s light, no sound of a Fog Crawler in the distance, just a swamp full of mirelurks.

I should have anticipated the queen.

And yet she fell… and so did I, collapsing as my head spun and vision fogged. I heard Valentine shouting in the distance, and then he was beside me, “Holmes! Sherlock? Oh thank god you’re alive.” I felt the familiar jab of a stimpak in my shoulder, and another in my leg. My sight cleared as he gripped my shoulders, worry and anger all over his face, mere inches from mine, “You are an absolute idiot! If you weren’t half dead I’d… I don’t even know what I’d do!”

I had no words to adequately express what I felt in that moment, and only one reaction seemed reasonable. His lips against mine felt like something between malleable plastic and supple leather worn by the elements. “I'm sorry,” I said. At his baffled scowl, I clarified, “For scaring you. You're right, this was an idiotic plan.”

“That suggests you had a plan to begin with. I said you were an idiot, period.” His hand clasped mine. “If I could have heart attacks, I'd have had three of them since meeting you. Can you stand?”

I could. Longfellow shook his head as we approached, bemused. “You’re a strange one, cap’n, no mistake. Come on, let's get you back. Reckon the witness the doc sent will get back long before we will.” The old hunter chuckled, “Should have seen the way he ran out of here.”

We made our slow way back to Far Harbor in exhausted silence. The people were assembled, a feast set, and Dr. Wright was giving a speech about me. Cheers went up all around as a Harborman confirmed I'd completed the 'dance' and killed a mirelurk queen, and the party began.

Dr. Wright confirmed I wasn't going to die, and quipped, “If they don't respect you now, well, fuck 'em.” It was a sentiment I heartily agreed with.

I milled about, making an appearance and performing the socializing expected just long enough to claim exhaustion and go up to the room over the Last Plank. Valentine followed.

“First time I’ve seen this town in a good mood. Almost makes this dumb stunt worth it.”

I pulled off my chest piece with a groan, “You’ve made your point.”

“Hey, hold still.” The contrast of leathery plastic and cold steel on my back as he pushed up the edge of my shirt surprised me. He tsked, “Your armor’s straps rubbed the skin raw. Being constantly soaked the past few days probably didn’t help.”

I set to removing the rest of my armor, “I hardly noticed.”

“We’ll have to buy you a new set of clothes.”

“The clothes will have dried by morning.”

“My point was to get you out of wet clothes in the first place…”

He was suddenly quiet as I removed my shirt. I glanced at him, “Is something wrong?”

“I'm not sure.”

“You did say I needed to get out of these wet clothes.”

“Holmes, you don’t even come downstairs in your own home unless you’re dressed or in a robe to cover the fact you’re only mostly dressed.”

I removed my boots and socks, “The two of us are alone in a room above a bar on the fringes of what might be described as civilization. My desires for privacy and propriety are second to my need to be dry for an evening.”

“And you'd rather be naked than wear a fisherman's outfit.”

“What? Of course not, it simply wouldn’t be practical. There’s no point in spending caps on a full set of clothes I’m only going to wear one night, perhaps two.”

“Sure, sure,” he grinned. He watched me search for some sort of blanket for the bed, his grin fading to something softer, more self conscious. “Hey, Holmes… about the kiss.”

“What about it?”

“You aren’t usually the type for physical displays of affection.”

I scoffed, “The fact that I choose to keep my most intimate emotions private from the rest of the world doesn’t mean I don’t feel them.”

“I wasn't saying otherwise. Just surprised.”

I sighed, “I apologize, it was a common assumption for most of my life. I'd never seen you so panicked, I was relieved to be alive, and…” I shrugged, “even I have moments of emotional impulse.”

He softly laughed to himself, “I guess I'm making this more complicated than it is.”

I tossed the threadbare excuse for a quilt I’d found onto the bed and turned to him, “May I remind you, Mr. Valentine, the idea of us being partners in more than the business definition was originally your suggestion.”

He folded his arms, “While you cracked wise about being on one knee.”

“I simply want to establish that any confusion in our relationship is your fault.”

“Ha! Any relationship with you is going to be confusing. Half the time I don't know what possessed me to fall for you.”

If I can be forgiven for using such a cliche, my heart leapt. “I wonder that myself. God knows you deserve better than -”

“Shut up, Sherlock.”

His kiss was firm, his arms circling around to pull me close. I let the boundaries fall, melting against him. A soft heat emanated from his chest, along with the faint hum of internal machinery. It was exquisite.

“Are you always this warm?” I asked.

“Running a little hot right now, actually. Must be a kink in the coolant system.”

I pulled away just enough to see his face, “Was that a joke?”

He grinned, “Yes, that was a joke. I don't feel… what I guess you'd call lust, but some part of me sure wants to. If you were a dame, at least I might have some idea of what to do next.”

I stifled a sudden laugh, “Dame??”

“Don't make fun of the way I talk, you're almost as bad as Danse.”

“I’m not nearly so verbose.”

He smirked, “Whatever you say, doll.”

“Valentine, if you ever call me ‘doll’ again, I will respond with violence.”

He laughed, “Got it.” Metal fingertips traced the side of my face in pure awe, “Any thought of love was all memories, just the old Nick’s grief… but you. You’re mine.”

I turned my head to kiss his hand, “For as long as you’ll have me.”

He kissed me again, and made a small sound of surprise as I coaxed a deeper kiss from him. His mouth is warm and dry, tongue like soft rubber that tastes of smoke and something slick and metallic and unidentifiable. I was quickly losing whatever semblance of physical control I'd had.

“Nick…” I’m not sure I knew what I was asking for, but I was begging.

His hands drifted lower, slowly seeking permission and giving me plenty of time to change my mind. “You sure about this?”

“Yes… if you want,” I suddenly analyzed everything about the scene, panicked that a partner who can't feel lust would feel forced or obligated…

A gentle force on my jaw turned my eyes to meet his. “I’d like to see if I can make you stop thinking for two minutes.”

I shivered, “Only two?”

He smiled, “One step at a time, partner.”

He's buying clothes this morning. Mine are dry, but desperately in need of a wash. And so I woke to him leaving, a quick kiss as he said, “We can afford clothes, one use or not. Go back to sleep.” I didn’t have the energy to argue.

I've never been more affectionately bemused at the sight of bruises on my skin. I have not often craved physical contact with anyone; my marriage was one of intellectual companionship and deep friendship. I remember being in her arms or holding her in mine, the proximity to someone I love a unique comfort, but this…

I love him. I already knew it, but seeing it written…

Dear god, I'm prattling away into a diary like a lovesick schoolboy when there's work to be done.

#fallout 4 #sherlock holmes #crossover #fan fiction #nick valentine #far harbor #i rewrote that scene so many times and i’m still not sure it’s right

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regressionuncensored · 5 years

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Why I Left Agere...

I’m submitting this on anonymous because I do not feel comfortable giving out my new URL– especially with this controversial opinion I’m about to give. I don’t think age regression is healthy. My therapist did not think my age regression was healthy. Over the three years I’ve been in this community I have not improved mentally by any margin– and here is my story. TW: grooming mentions, swearing, pedophilia mentions, mental illness mentions, possible sexual assault mentions. Read with caution if you’re triggered by any of these things. I will jump right into this without making introductory small talk. I have OCD. I have the delusion of being dirty by even thinking of sexuality in any form. The forced sexualization of agere (even if it’s claimed to be “nonsexual”) is too much for me to handle, and it’s very clear that it overlaps with kink in many areas even if you don’t want it to, or say it doesn’t for you. Somehow, saying your regression isn’t sexual has wrapped around and become sexual again– read in between the lines of any cg / little post and you’ll see what I mean. Anyway, daddy / mommy / caregiver– rather we like it or not– are terms associated with kink and they have been for several years, even before agere. The only time it isn’t is when actual, real children use it as a nickname for a parental figure, or if a person is giving care to someone who is physically unable to help themselves for a medical reason. This is the only time the term is not sexualized because people don’t know about age regression and they more than likely never will. Secondly, the amount of minor and adult relationships in cglre are ridiculous (you all know very well who I’m talking about)– but as an added example, remember the eighteen year old being groomed by a twenty eight year old and none of you said anything about it because it was “not sexual”? Yeah. “BUT SHE WAS EIGHTEEN WAAAHHHHH” I don’t give a fuck, that’s no excuse for a twenty eight year old to be interested in someone of that age and if you disagree you need to rethink your life. Cglre is grossly predatory from my experiences and the things I have witnessed there have made me report multiple blogs to NCMEC because that’s how disgusting it is, and every single cg needs to think hard about their interactions towards minors (THAT INCLUDES EIGHTEEN YEAR OLDS). Adults (AKA people in their late twenties and early thirties in this case) in this community should be absolutely ashamed for interacting with minors– and I’ll be watching the notes of this post, too! I’ll report you if I have to! Not to mention when Tumblr blocked the tag for adult content it was for a reason. “C” “G” “L”. Caregiver/little. Aka a kink with a power exchange. You can’t slap “regression” on the end and expect it to magically become safe for work… look at your tag for fuck sakes. People are constantly cross tagging it with kink tags. It was a mistake right from the beginning and everyone refuses to acknowledge it because it’s inconvenient for them to– just like me having this opinion is also inconvenient for them. As for chire, it fell apart way back when mod wolf got called out for being a pedophile and Donut got called out for being a mega jerk. The new chire community is empty and is filled with recycled ideas from 2017. It’s dying, and I think it should stay that way, but I have to applaud them for actually trying to keep kink out of their coping mechanism by not using the word CGL– other than that, it’s the same community as cglre, but it’s more successful for being safe for minors, where cglre is not (and still is not) and has failed miserably at doing so, despite the many block lists the community has created. Let’s not even mention their allowing of truscum and transmeds and how they did absolutely nothing to keep their trans members safe– I see you, cglre mods! Averting your eyes has been the death of your community, and the reason for this entire letter. Don’t even try to tell anyone in cglre this, though. They’ll just act like literal children… but, like, accurately for once, unlike the cheap baby talk they always use. They just plug their ears and go “Nwooooooo it’s not bwecause it’s rwegression and you’re just a bwig fwat mweanie head :((((((( I’ll tell my dwaddy on you.” The cringe writes itself and I don’t even support cringe culture. That’s not even a healthy way to think, by the way. You just decided it was to go along with the majority’s opinion. Regression is so harmful, especially for people like me who already have issues becoming adults due to my BPD. I am leaving this entire community utterly upset for what it’s done to me– and to see minors regressing to a younger age WHEN THEY’RE ALREADY MINORS is absolutely ridiculous. There are better, healthier coping mechanisms than sticking a pacifier in your mouth and calling your musky-husky-two-month-old-boyfriend “daddy”. Take a walk. Learn to knit. Bake cookies. Practice mindfulness and thought correction. Do CBT and DBT. Literally any of those are better than regressing– any good, licensed therapist will tell you this. Mine did. If yours didn’t, find a better one. You are only hurting yourself by regressing. You are only hurting yourself by refusing to grow up and be an actual, functioning adult in society– and if you can do that and regress? Good for you. The fourteen year olds in your communities can't– and they especially can’t have caregivers (especially when none of you can take care of yourselves at that age already), otherwise you may need to report that to the authorities. I know no one in this community will, though, because the last person who did that was chased out of your community. I saw it with my own two eyes. There is also a reason porn bots and daddy dom blogs follow you against your will. It’s because, rather you like it or not, are participating in age play at the end of the day. Not all age play is sexual but it is most definitely a kink and I highly recommend the Wikipedia article on it, as it provides accurate information to what everyone is really participating in (look, I’ll even tell you if you’re lazy or angry at me to click: Ageplay or age play is a form of roleplaying in which an individual acts or treats another as if they were a different age… wow, sounds very familiar, eh?). It’s really all regression is– age play made out to be therapeutic, but in reality, holds people back from accepting their problems and permanently harms their state of mind. Is it really any surprise that people who act like children will also do so when shown the cold, hard facts? Amazing, really. And to be honest- this is just my opinion– there’s nothing normal or therapeutic about a thirty four year old wearing a diaper and sucking on a pacifier claiming their healing from past trauma. I won’t believe you for a single second if you told me that. It’s not healthy. I don’t see any of that stuff outside Tumblr (except a poorly written and unsourced Wikipedia article) unless it’s attached to age play or ABDL– and that’s the facts. Not to mention the original age regression article specifically fucking states that it’s a hypnosis technique used in therapy, but is incredibly controversial as it provides negative results most of the time. Do your research– I know you won’t, though, or else you’ll get five page call out and get suicide baited off your blog (way to go, cglre. Suicide bait the people who don’t need it unlike, you know, TERFs or MAPs). Anyway I’m going to wrap this lengthy ramble up here and watch all the anons come in and attack me. Worst case scenario they’ll poorly dissect my letter without textbook psychology sources and think that they won– the equivalent to the pigeon shitting all over the chessboard quote. Sorry for the oncoming shitstorm in your inbox… remember to block if you have to. I know I have.

Love, A very hurt and tired former member of the agere community.

_______________________________________________________ I agree with some of what you said but I think there are some main things I need to point out.

1. I think your mental illness is changing how you perceive things. I have ocd and I am scared of animals cus I think they are contaminated but I decide to examine why I am having these fears and challenge myself because I could not live well if I didn’t.

2. I regressed when I was younger like an actual kid. From guess what? Trauma!!! Yeah I was stuck at a younger age and guess what I am now! I have been in therapy since I was four but regression does actually help me. I don’t think regression on it’s own fixes anything but along with therapy (I currently do DBT) I think it’s fine! 3. Just cus you think it’s weird does not make it bad. Maybe a grown adult never had any trauma resolved (or just thinks it’s fun) and it relaxes them. Then WHO CARES if they don’t think it’s kink and they are not being sexual in anyway then WHO CARES. I am sorry but by saying regression is ageplay (even nonsexual) is sexualizeing people who regress.

4. Kink is not bad and even if it is it’s not your job to tell them. I mean people are drug addicts and that’s bad but I don’t make it my job to tell them that it is. I mean there are people who use drugs (like drugs and alcohol) and are fine! Even if you think drugs are gross if people are not addicted then it does not matter. Like with anything weather pain or smoking weed if you are doing it for the wrong reasons. (not mentally stable, a minor etc) then yeah it’s bad but the average person who has a few drinks a week or even one drink a day is not actually in harm's way and does not need your input. (for anyone who didn’t follow drugs are kink I know bad analogy cus kink is even less harmful but whatever.)

Yes I think we need to protect minors and maybe even age gate it a bit (like I see 11 year olds here and like I was not mature enough to be here at 14 soo) but I think what everyone here is tired of is being told we are gross. That we are sick, crazy, stupid, sexual etc by everyone. Look I don’t like agere either i’m going to kink as soon as I can cus that’s what fits me better but making people feel gross fixes nothing it just sorta makes you annoying. CGLRE (you have a clear bias for chire even though I know you have issues with them too) has worked hard to be a safe place. I know kinksters and miseducated regressors might use the wrong tags but the issue is them not cglre and people can be non comm if cglre is not for them. Why not educate I mean I write stuff on this blog hopefully to show and honest side of agere and I want to educate not shame. Also it’s kinda hard to have a nonsexual kink that you do alone (most of the time) with no power exchange......well i’ve rambled enough but I think you get my point. There is nuance to this issue and people need to know both sides. My side has points and so does yours but people need to hear both and I really don’t suggest shame as your vehicle to get your point across-Lyra

#submission

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