#always sobbing about how Hancock hates Danses fucking guts but not as much as he hates Danse laying down and accepting death

[slocumjoe]

I've said before that the synth thing would work better with a McCarthyism allegory, but for Danse specifically, its so similar to autism that it has to be intentional??

Like. The thing that really solidified that Danse in particular is just straight up about autism is Piper's line in Blind Betrayal. Paraphrased, it goes something like, "I mean...yeah, of course he's a synth. It was kind of obvious, wasn't it? I mean, have you heard him talk?"

The autism accent is a concept that seems to be popping up more recently, but its a real thing, and in my own experience, everyone in my life has been able to clock that there was something different about me from my speech. People thought it was weird that I used "adult" words as a kid, and was very technical and exact when speaking. I was often mistaken as being from places like Brooklyn because I had a weird affectation to my voice.

And there's just. This fucking line. "Have you heard him talk?". Piper is also the person who clicked McDonough as a synth. It's worth noting that McDonough and Danse both use words like "rabble".

But seriously.

Danse goes through his life being respected for his work ethic, intelligence, and strong sense of duty and morals, but he never really bonds with anyone, he doesn't make friends. He's respected, not liked. People want to work with him, but the best they have to say about him is about his work. He makes one single friend in his entire life, and never tries again after that guy dies. And no one tries to befriend him. He's their brother. He's not their friend. And he takes his job too seriously as a commanding officer to attempt emotional connection. He apologizes for overstepping on the few occasions he does.

He talks like a thesaurus, and no one is sure if its to sound smarter, or if that's just genuinely how he thinks. It's strongly implied to be the latter. He's incredibly knowledgeable and passionate about various topics. He sounds like a kid on Christmas when you risk life and limb cracking open a vault that's supposed to have riches, but instead, just has some historical items. He throws his Brotherhood prejudice away the moment he finds a farm run by ghouls that uses pre-war structures in a creative way, and scolds you if you do the Brotherhood thing and insult them. He also seemingly forgets that he's in the Brotherhood when meeting a child ghoul, that kid's parents, a shy, insecure ghoul who clings to children's media (despite Danse finding children's entertainment stupid and a waste of time), and Daisy.

And then there's the synth thing.

Danse has always been Danse, but one little word gets attached to him and his life turns upside down. His work ethic is no longer a work ethic, it's viewed as a perversion. His intelligence and manner of speech are no longer of his own merit and education he had to have given himself, they become inevitable, things he had no say in. His existence is both erased and explained by one word, and anything else is irrelevant or in question. People who once respected him want nothing to do with him, because this one word puts him in a context they find unnatural, corrupted, inhuman. There's even something there with the Institute. Autism is (incorrectly) associated with vaccines, the government, science gone wrong. It's a man-made horror.

And then you have the people he gets lumped in with, after being thrown out for this one word. They take schadenfreude in it. This is comeuppance, this is deserved. This one word, something they take pride in or have sympathy for and want to protect, suddenly becomes weaponized. It's a source of pride for others, but for this one person, we're going to use it as punishment. You weren't with us from the start, so now you really are on your own. It's not that there isn't a right way to be this one word, it's just that there's a wrong way, and even if you change accordingly, you will never belong with the rest of us.

Its. Autism is about exclusion, from everyone and everything. Always being an outsider, often too polite or nervous or jaded to even bother looking in. And at every point in Danse's life he didn't belong. He was a rogue synth, so he didn't belong in the Institute. He naturally thrives as a soldier, so he didn't belong as a junk seller in Rivet City. He was a synth and considerably more kind and compassionate than the rest of the BOS, so he didn't belong there. And because he was a BOS soldier and is still working out some bad traits after his exile, he isn't welcomed by the people who he was thrown to. Everywhere he goes, there's a big neon sign over his head that changes to whatever word will ward off everyone around him and he's so used to it, the thing that makes him angriest about being a synth is that he doesn't even have parents. He doesn't even have that connection to the world, of being born into it. There is nothing he can connect himself to beyond the Institute (which he hates) and the Brotherhood (which, if he continues to connect himself to, will drive him to suicide out of sense of duty, and he already agreed to not do that)

Its just. His entire story is one of absolute isolation and the final dickpunch of "You've always hated yourself, right? Good news, here's a reason to kill yourself that's professional and won't illicit pity from your peers, so no one will judge you for doing it or grieve you."

#fallout 4 #fo4 #paladin danse #gettin emosh with the babygirl this fine evening #always sobbing about how Hancock hates Danses fucking guts but not as much as he hates Danse laying down and accepting death #theyre such similar people its just that Hancock has finished his first arc of bettering himself. he just hasnt worked thru the guilt #and self hatred #meanwhile danse only gets the realization hes been an ass and needs to change. he never hits act 2 or 3 #because of shit writing

[wastelandlovingscenarios]

yayyy! new blog. so can i request on how the companions would react if the ss went out on a mission alone and never came back? the companions go look for them and find their gun, thinking they’re dead but hear hear a voice from the closet. when they find the closet, they find a gravely injures f!ss? Sankyu!

i’ll make it romancable. i just changed the scenario up a bit. ❤️ not the proudest of this but i hope you enjoy.

everyone knew that they were inseparable since the day they became official partners. wherever sole went, he always followed. it brought them comfort knowing that he was just an arms length away to protect them from danger, but now it was different. someone had ordered sole to go on a solo mission to clear out a building with a supposedly “low” population of raiders. to his discomfort, sole had agreed without a second thought and decided to hit the road as soon as possible. “are you sure about this? i can always come with you.” worried was an understatement, he was terrified. sole tip toed and placed a kiss on his cheek, her hand resting on his shoulder. “i’ll be okay, alright? i’ll be home in no time.” even with the turning feeling in his gut, he decided to trust her words.

**

somehow, he ended up in front of the building sole was assigned to, letting his fear overcome him. i mean how was he not supposed to? it had been three straight days with no sign of his other half and the deafening silence in their shared home had been eating him up inside. letting out a deep breath, he entered with soft footsteps, his breathing echoing down the hall. he saw how dead bodies littered the floor, the dried up brown stains coloring the pale blue walls. as he took another step closer to the hallway, he felt himself kick something forward and heard it skid harshly on the wood tiling. looking down at the item he had launched, he felt his heart stop at the familiar weapon.

Danse (after blind betrayal):

preston had followed him just to ensure his safety just in case he needed backup but he also grew speechless at the discovery. danse froze, his face full of shock. every part of himself wanted to check the gun on the floor, but he couldn’t move a single muscle. this wasn’t actually happening right? he had already lost everything in his life, but nothing matched the sorrow he felt at that moment. yes, he was sad and confused, but he felt anger at himself. he let the realest thing he had slip through his fingers like sand. “danse,” he heard prestons voice call out to him, but couldn’t muster up a single reply, “if we look, we can find the general around here, maybe even alive.” he shot preston a look of grief and anger as he clutched his fists, tears stinging in his eyes. “and if she’s not?” “then i’ll be here to help you.”

they both looked through every corner of the building, searching for some kind of sign. preston was beggining to find the situation hopeless, only praying sole made it out while danse refused to give up on the search. he felt his body suspend as he heard coughing coming from the closet near him. with no hesitation, he jerked the door open and found his other half, holding onto the side of her neck as blood dropped down at an alarming rate. he felt so much relief wash over him but was quickly met by terror as he watched the color drain from their face. “preston!” preston ran over, horrified at the sight before him, “i’ll go get help.” danse watched as he raced out the door, his eyes shooting to sole the second after. he removed her hand and applied pressure to the wound with his as he placed his forehead on hers. “sole, if you can hear me, please hold out for a bit longer, help is coming,” he choked, feeling the tears fall down his face as sole let out a small noise, “i can’t do this without you by my side. i love you too much to lose you.”

Deacon:

“this is some kind of fucking sick joke right?”, he muttered, his heart beating out of his ears. this one time, he wanted to make up some kind of lie that maybe sole dropped their gun on the way out back to hq or maybe she found no use for it but the way the blood painted it made him believe anything but that. he laughed bitterly, trying to escape what he thought was the truth of the situation. soon enough, those laughs turned into sobs as he leaned on the wall for support. he wanted to scream at everything, his heart breaking at how unfair life treated him and the ones he loved. “please,” he begged, “please let this be a joke..” he fucking knew he shouldn’t have let sole go or at least followed her in secret.

his breath got caught in his throat as he heard a noise come from the closet. furiously wiping his eyes as he lifted his gun, ready to shoot whatever came out at him. but as he got closer to the door, his heart skipped a beat as he heard someone call his name faintly. quickly opening it, he found his other half weakly staring up at him, a gunshot wound near her chest. he wanted to say so many things to her, but his words got caught up in his throat and he solely focused on getting sole up and out of there. deacon rushed over and picked her up without another word, dashing out the building. “we’ll be at hq in no time,” he panicked, nearly out of breath, “i’ll never fucking leave you alone again.” she looked up at him, seeing the fear in his eyes behind his sunglasses, “and i’ll be damned if i let you leave me, sole.”

Hancock:

“no fucking way.” he didn’t even recognize his own voice as he spat out those words. “there’s no fucking way she’s dead.” he grabbed his shotgun, his eyes darting at every direction as anger and devastation filled his core. “WHERE ARE YOU, YOU FUCKING COWARDS?!” his voice echoed the empty halls as he stomped, breaking down almost every door in search of the person who was responsible for her death. he was gonna find this person and gut them till they were unrecognizable. as he knocked the last door down, he pointed his gun at the figure sitting against the wall but immediately retreated his weapon as he saw sole looking up at him with half lidded eyes.

“holy fuck,” he knelt down besides them, his hands cupping her cheeks, “sunshine, talk to me. say anything, please.” she felt his hands shake against her skin, and sent him a weak smile just to reassure him that everything was gonna be okay. he watched as soles eyes directed to the deep wound on her stomach and hancock didn’t waste a minute, immediately picking up sole and running out. as sole was brought to dr. amari and treated for her wounds, hancock was given the good news that she would make it. he bent down, kissing soles forehead as she slept. grabbing his weapon, he walked out the doorway as the doctor called out. “where are you going?” he cocked his gun, replying almost instantly, “to kill the bastard that fucking dared to touch what belongs to me.”

Nick:

even if fear hit him, he took a few deep breaths but couldn’t help but to pull his hat down, his “heart” aching with unbearable pain. “fuck, i’m sorry sole,” he choked, “i’m sorry i failed you.” he wanted to find soles body and give her a proper burial but felt his body weaken at the thought of seeing her lifeless. he picked up the gun and placed it in his pocket, following the blood trail that led down the hall to a closed closet. with a deep breath, he slowly reached out to the doorknob, dreading every scenario that dragged his thoughts. that was until he heard a soft, pained groan coming from the other side, “help..”

nick opened the door almost instantly, his gears whirring loudly as he found his lover with a major laceration on the side of her head. he saw how the blood dried up, covering almost half of her face and a good portion of their vault suit. god, he hated how her blood painted her pale, soft skin. nick took off his coat and held it against her head as she squirmed in pain. “doll, i need you to hold still,” he tried to stay calm, but knew fear got the best of him, “i just need to tie this on your forehead to stop any further bleeding.” he took out a stimpack and injected her arm, quickly placing sole on his back and headed to diamond city. “nick.. i-i’m sorr-“ nick shushed her, “save your energy, sweet pea, you don’t need to explain yourself. you just need to focus on staying awake,” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “i love you, sole.”

Maccready:

“no please.” he mewled, his legs giving out on him as he knelt forward to pick up the gun with shaky hands. maccready couldn’t do this shit all over again. he couldn’t lose sole like he did with lucy, and just couldn’t afford to put another person he loved six feet under. he let out a deafening sob that echoed through the walls, breaking his promise within seconds. “fuck! sole, don’t do this shit to me right now!” his voice cracked with grief as he clutched her gun to his heart, clawing at it desperately. he was hoping, somewhere, somehow, sole could hear his pleas. “you can’t leave me like this!” his begs for her got louder.

his sobs were cut off by the sound of metal hitting the floor and reverberating through the hallway. maccready stood on his feet, gripping his weapon tightly as he let out angry breaths. he was going to kill the fuck out of whatever was behind those doors. as he yanked the door open, he halted any further movement and dropped his weapon out of shock. sole had a broken leg with various cuts littered around her body as she smiled weakly at him. with fat tears rolling down his face, he dropped down to hug sole, sobbing into her hair. “you’re okay.. we’re okay.. fuck..” he lifted her off the ground, beginning to sprint back to sanctuary, ignoring the pain in his legs. “i got you, love,” he whispered as he looked at the road ahead of him, “when we get home, we’ll get you fixed up and i’ll plan a day for both of us to enjoy ourselves.. so please hold on for me.” sole only closed her eyes, letting out a soft hum.

ps: it’s 12 am here and i’ll edit this once i wake up in the morning so pls don’t mind my writing!

#fallout 4 #fallout #fallout 4 companions react #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 reacts #danse #hancock #john hancock #maccready #paladin danse #robert joseph maccready #deacon #nick valentine #tw:blood #tw: injury #fo4 #angst #preston #tw: blood #f!sole survivor #fem!sole #f!sole

[companionhell]

Could you do (romanced) Companions reacting to sole survivor dying in their arms from protecting them? (Including maxson, and gage?)

Cait: Shite! This wasn’t happening, this couldn’t be happening. She couldn’t stop the blood in time, so Cait just ran her hands through Sole’s hair, both to comfort herself and the love of her life. Her treasure, her lover, her heart… Cait couldn’t stand the thought of losing them, but here they were, bleedin’ out and Cait couldn’t do shite to stop it. “Sole, are ya fuckin’ daft?” She was tearing up now, but trying to hold it together. Cait hadn’t cried for years. “I told you to be careful, darlin’. This ain’t fuckin’ careful!” Sole chuckled at that, and Cait was angry, furious at the world for letting this happen, at Sole for taking that bullet, at herself for not being sure she’d do the same and letting the best thing that’d ever happened to her die in her arms. And then they were gone, and they were probably the first person Cait lost who she fucking cared about, and Cait didn’t know how to deal with it.

Curie: Curie hated violence. She hated how the Commonwealth had become a hierarchy of ruthlessness, and part of what drew her to Sole was that they were different. They were kind and just and understanding, and helped Curie make sense of a strange and complicated world with her new body. And Curie never hated violence more than when she cradled Sole’s head in her lap, tears freely flowing down her face, and knew that she wouldn’t be able to save them. They’d paid the price for Curie’s inexperience in battle, her dislike of fighting. She’d planned to travel with them for years to come, to navigate the Commonwealth with her steady Sole by her side, and as those plans came to an abrupt halt, Curie felt a devastating grief, a simultaneous tightness and hollowness in her heart. “Adieu, mon amour,” Curie whispered, brushing a light kiss to Sole’s foreheard and feeling them fade away. “Je t’aime.”

Danse: No, this was… he couldn’t… goddamnit, Danse had caused enough deaths. Several lives already weighed on his conscience, affecting his decisions, his dreams, his faith in himself, his every waking moment, but now… The person who’d stood up to Maxson for Danse, who’d accepted his identity, who’d saved him from his own spiral of loneliness and self-deprecation, they’d died for Danse as well. He traced their face with his thumb, trying with futility to comfort them in their last few moments in the Commonwealth, and then they were gone. Danse had lost Sole and was struck with the devastating fact that without them, he was truly alone in the world. He was just a collection of missing pieces glued together by a sense of duty, and that never seemed more glaringly obvious than now. Danse was lost. He had nowhere, no one, to return to. Without Sole by his side, the man didn’t know what he’d do.

Deacon: Deacon tried to convince Sole and himself that they weren’t dying. “Come on, you’ll make it through. You’re tough, remember?” It was bullshit, though, complete bullshit, and they both knew it. And as Sole took their last breaths, Deacon found himself spilling his guts, as last-minute retribution for all the lies and because they deserved to know. He told them that he loved them, that he didn’t say it often enough, and that he’d been afraid to get close to them but now he wished he’d done it sooner. Deacon talked himself through all the barriers he put up and all the earlier contradictory words, because he had the opportunity and because he wished he’d had it for Barbara. But eventually he was only speaking to a body, the shell of the person he’d been terrified to admit he loved, and the guilt and the self-hatred and that mind-numbing rage settled in. Whoever did this would be dead soon, and Deacon would figure out what came next, but he’d hate himself more with every minute Sole’s life bought him.

Gage: Gage didn’t do grief. Generally speaking, he hated people. He didn’t really give a shit if anyone died, beyond what that death meant for raider gang dynamics. That’s why it was so fucking terrifying when he was holding Sole before they checked out, and Gage realized he was actually… what, scared? Something like it. “That was stupid, boss,” he said, trying to sound jokingly derisive but coming out sadder than he knew he felt. “Shouldn’t’ve taken a bullet for me. Shoulda just considered it and jumped outta the way.” Sole could hear him, Gage knew, but they only had the strength to smile weakly, and fuck, he couldn’t take seeing someone so strong reduced to just another body on the pavement. The only person Gage had really cared for in his entire goddamn adult life, and they were gone. He couldn’t do nothin’ about it, neither, or about how much he missed them- Gage couldn’t cope with this shit.

Hancock: Look, Hancock meant it when he said that his place was by Sole’s side. Meeting Sole was the best damn thing that ever happened to him, and it hurt to see them dying because Hancock wasn’t quick enough on the uptake. He’d have been happy to take that bullet for them, but instead he was stuck watching someone he cared deeply for suffer. So though Hancock knew that Sole didn’t have much longer, he still spoke to them, trying to give them some hope. “Don’t think you get to leave me just yet, sunshine,” he said, his usual relative joviality giving way to a deep sadness. But Sole did leave him, and Hancock was again without a place or a purpose, only with a raging sense of injustice at the world’s workings. So many shitty people in the Commonwealth, and it was Sole who had to die? Bullshit, just bullshit. All of it.

MacCready: MacCready liked having Sole close. He’d thought it was safer. He’d thought he could protect them easier, be there for them, not be too late like he was for Lucy. But this time, being close was what killed Sole. If he hadn’t always been so reluctant to leave them, even for a few days, if Sole had gone solo on that trip or taken someone else, they might not be lying on the asphalt. It was MacCready’s fault. He should have taken that hit. MacCready tried to apply pressure, to stop the bleeding, but all it did was make Sole wince in pain and cover his hands in his loved one’s blood. “No, no, no, no…” He was already crying and he didn’t even realize it, the tears running down his face as MacCready desperately tried to hold on to the happiness in his life- but a few minutes later, it was too late. “Damn it, Sole! Not again. I can’t…” A sharp intake of breath. “I can’t do it again.”

Maxson: He’d seen many fall in battle. It was part of life as a soldier, as the Elder. Some deaths were inevitable. What mattered was that they were honorable, that they died fighting for something they believed in. Maxson had long told himself that, when he read the lists of men and women lost under his command. Even before, all the way back to Sarah. That was the official Brotherhood mentality. Duty came before sentiment. But Sole’s death was different. He had to watch his lover’s anguished face as they died and carry that memory. They died because of Maxson. Not because of his orders, but because of Maxson. He praised their bravery, gave a solemn eulogy at the ceremony. But that responsibility hung on him, stooping his shoulders behind closed doors and giving him even darker circles beneath his eyes. Sometimes, Maxson could see why some murmured at his ascension that he was too young to be Elder.

Nick: Nick flashed through his own modified stages of grief, even as he sat there, Sole dying before him. “You’re not skipping out on me just yet,” he promised, holding Sole’s hand, but Sole waved away Stim-Paks, instead opting to tell Nick that they loved him, how they didn’t regret saving him. Nick heard their meaning, a deep sadness descending upon him, but he didn’t share it. He wouldn’t spoil Sole’s last few moments. So he made them more comfortable with some blankets and a long kiss on the forehead. The second they were gone, though, Nick was free to close his eyes, consider his depression. He’d known he would likely outlive them, of course, but that future seemed distant except in rare moments of existentialism. And now, Nick’s presence had cut their life short. A living person, one of the best damn people in the Commonwealth, was dead because they valued a beat-up rejected synth prototype more than themselves. And Nick couldn’t forgive himself for it.

Piper: She’d done it again. Piper had always been told to keep her nose away from where it didn’t belong, but she found a gig with Sole, travelling and getting the scoop and accidentally falling in love. It caught up with her, though. If Sole had been alone- not forced to escort a reporter without armor, without significant combat experience- they’d still be alright. And Piper teared up confronting that reality, but tried her best to focus on Sole, whose breathing grew steadily weaker. “Blue, are you… We can patch this up, Blue. Just get you to a doctor, and you’ll be good as new.” Sole shook their head, gripping Piper’s hand before their fingers relaxed, fell to the ground. Piper choked back a sob, closed Sole’s eyes and stayed there, repeating a maxim under her breath. “I’m sorry, Blue. I’m so sorry.” A pause. “I’ll… I’ll watch Shaun for you. I promise.”

Preston: His heart dropped when Sole did. They were his life. They’d saved him with their generosity, with their kindness, reminded Preston that there was more to this world than evil. There was still good, and the good was Sole. But Preston had failed in his role as a high-ranking Minuteman and a companion, just as he had failed the survivors from Quincy, and it made him want to cry. Hell, he was crying. Preston held Sole as close as he could without worsening the injury, trying to keep his voice from shaking. “It’s not as bad as it looks. You’ll be okay.” Sole laughed weakly, called him on his bullshit. In a few dying words, they told Preston what he needed to hear- their hopes for this world, how much they loved him. And then Preston had to face that Sole didn’t make it, that their body was in his arms, and he didn’t know how to handle it. “I love you, too,” he said, hoarse, trying not to think of what would come next.

X6-88: Usually, X6 was fairly disconnected from death. It was like he was watching it from behind a wall of glass, detached from the experience. Courser training was designed to limit empathy- that would affect their effectiveness as hunters, after all. But he’d broken free from some of his training with Sole, cautiously stepped away from the guidelines to feel admiration, content, even… even love. So though it wasn’t necessarily surprising that seeing Sole’s last moments drained X6 more than any prior experience he’d had, the previously unknown emotions hit him like a bullet. There X6 was, holding the only person he’d ever truly cared about, and his chest felt heavy with the grief and the guilt and all the other feelings he’d never felt truly before. It was overwhelming, the shock and the depression, and his skill in coping was limited. He didn’t know how to go on. He’d have to, of course, but… it would be different.

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 companions #fallout 4 companions react #cait #curie #danse #deacon #gage #hancock #maccready #elder maxson #nick valentine #piper #preston garvey #x6-88 #sorry for the long delay guys! #this one was just. sad akdjfhkshf #tw death #tw self-hatred #tw blood