#female courier x joshua graham

[messyyythoughts]

sands of zion, part 4.

fallout: new vegas Joshua Graham x female courier reader

author’s note: i am tipsy, have this xxx

summary: the Dead Horses want to move against the White Legs, but Joshua doesn’t expect the consequences...

warnings: war antics, the usual fallout: new vegas violence warning lol

••●••••●••••●••

since your conversation about Caesar, Joshua Graham had been watching you closely. you hadn’t mentioned or even inferred anything about Caesar since, treating the name like a fatal curse if spoken aloud. you seemed sober compared to how Joshua saw you before that conversation. where you’d take the time to talk with the Dead Horses each day and learn new words, now you stayed quiet and only spoke when spoken to. in Angel’s Cave you avoided others, and politely regarded Joshua when he was nearby. you spent days doing nothing, sleeping in your bed or walking up and down the river.

it was as if merely talking about Caesar had taken the very spirit from you. and Joshua hated it. every day he awoke hoping that his prayers had been answered to find you back to your old self, but each day that passed he found himself losing faith in his God. if ghosts were real, then he was watching one walk around his camp that looked remarkably like you. Follows-Chalk had made several attempts at communicating with you, but nothing could get your mind off of the evil that was Caesar waiting for you back in the Mojave. how his assassins hadn’t made it here yet you didn’t know, and it made you overly paranoid. they could be watching, waiting in the shadows, seeing how far you could get before they grabbed you. you’d refused to leave the camp for anything that wasn’t immediately life or death business, and it was beginning to irritate the Dead Horses. if they got that annoyed with you, they could show you the way home and you’d never bother them again. but, there was still the problem of the White Legs to deal with before any of the inhabitants of Zion would show you the way home, so you had to deal with it soon. one day, amidst your paranoia, you awoke to loud, shouting voices coming from outside of Angel’s Cave. you didn’t decipher any of the speech clearly at first, then you heard your name being thrown around. darting out of bed, you grabbed your rifle, forgoing your trench coat or outdoor clothes, and burst out into the sunlight in your sleeping clothes. Follows-Chalk was stood against a group of Dead Horses members, attempting to placate them as they stared at you with anger in their eyes. Joshua was nowhere to be seen. your eyes scanned the river before you lowered your rifle. “what is all of this about?” you asked quietly, though you feared you knew anyway. “we can talk about this in a calm way–” Follows-Chalk began, but the voices rose against him faster than he could handle. you picked out a few words, and understood that they were complaining of your idleness in the recent weeks, and the threat of the White Legs you were meant to be aiding Joshua in eliminating. your lips pressed together in mild embarrassment, but you really could care less, because they had no idea who Caesar was and what he was going to do to you the moment this war was over. “send her to the White Legs if she’s so scared of them! we are ready to fight them, why won’t Joshua Graham make the move?” one woman yelled, anger distorting her features. the funny thing was that all of these women had braided your hair, taught you words and shared their food with you a handful of times before. now you were their worst enemy, save the White Legs. Follows-Chalk was doing his best, but you knew he was no match for angry women. the men stood further back, shooting you disapproving glares. they’d seen you as one of them many times, but now you were no better than a child. you put a hand on Follows-Chalk’s arm, and his worried eyes met your dead ones. you nodded and he stepped back, closing his mouth. you faced the group, eyeing up each one. “if you want to move against the White Legs, I will speak to Joshua Graham.” your words only did the bare minimum to quiet their anger. at the rise of more voices, you held up a hand. “do not forget that it has been me who has rescued one of your children, defeated dozens of your enemies and fought for all of you with my life many times over.” your voice was raised, built on a foundation of disbelief at their words. “I will finish this war, but not if you disrespect me any further. am I clear?” they all went silent, watching you. “am I clear?” you yelled, snapping. the women’s heads dropped and they moved back. the men bristled at your tone. “be ready to fight with your lives, if you can do that.” you looked at each one of them in the eyes, and felt every one of them staring into your soul. Follows-Chalk followed you quietly into Angel’s Cave as you sighed and held in a desperate scream of frustration. you barely remembered the last few weeks, it had been a big blur of nonsense. you’d finally realised how soon you were going to face Caesar and lose your life in the process, and yes, you had others depending on you, but they didn’t know half of what your life had been. “do you know where Joshua is?” you asked Follows-Chalk, as you unpacked your belongings in preparation for the fight of your life, which would soon be overshadowed by the fight you’d bring to Caesar. “he is making final preparations for the attack, or at least that is what he told me.” you nodded, smoothing your hair away from your face and sighing heavily. “thank you for trying to save my reputation back there,” you said, “it wasn’t worth it but at least they’ll fight alongside me now.” Follows-Chalk was at your side, a worried look on his sweet face. his hand rested on your shoulder. “what troubles you, Courier? you have been a ghost since...” Follows-Chalk didn’t finish his sentence because footsteps approached. your heads both swivelled to meet the owner, and it was Joshua. he seemed surprised to see you up and awake, organising your things nonetheless. “we can talk later.” Follows-Chalk eyes searched yours for any hint of a smile, and even though you faked one, it didn’t fool him. he’d grown to know much about you personally since meeting you, and that smile wasn’t like the ones he’d seen from you before. he walked away, feeling something uneasy about you. ••●••••●••••●•• you filled Joshua in on the near-uprising against you, and he agreed that a move against the White Legs was looking favourable. you both stood at his desk, moving around it as you mapped out the White Legs territory from several scout reports. Joshua didn’t mention your behaviour recently, he was just satisfied that his prayers had been answered at last, and content to be enjoying your company once again. you went back and forth all evening, hypothesising the best formations and plans. you briefly paused the debates to make dinner and start inventory of all the weapons available to the Dead Horses. there was a lot, the scouts had done well, and Joshua had tracked down some pre-War technology that had been made useful by tinkering and experimenting. the sun went down, and Joshua gave the order to be ready to move out at first light. you continued planning, poking holes in each other’s ideas, before you settled on one of Joshua’s plans. you liked it, it had the least chance of failure, and it would get you into the White Legs camp where you could do the most damage. the necessary Dead Horse members were informed of the plan, and you both tried to get some sleep. Joshua resorted to studying his holy book at some point in the night, and you had started to clean your rifle and organise your trench coat with its many pockets. neither of you spoke as you knew it would only serve as a temporary distraction from the real thing that would be upon you in a few hours. as the sky began to change with the rising sun, you both got changed and checked weapons one last time. you were attempting to braid your hair out of the way but it proved hard with a scattered mind. you gave up and let it sit behind your shoulders, sat on your old camping bed, when Joshua’s voice broke the silence of Angel’s Cave for the first time in hours. “may I...?” your eyes landed on him, and he was stood at the end of your bed, looking at your hair. you nodded and took off your hat, smoothing your hair down. he knelt behind you, taking your hair in three sections and beginning the braid. it was the simplest one, but it kept your hair out of your face. you sat there, staring at the walls of the cave and imagining your death. would a White Leg grab and slash your throat open? a stray bullet? an explosive? a brutal fist fight to the death? you didn’t even notice that Joshua was long finished the braid, and was still knelt behind you, just waiting. he was probably thinking, too. you turned around, facing him. the sight of him on his knees might’ve elicited a different reaction from you in a different life, but now it just made you sad. deeply and utterly sad. he looked up at you, and you looked down at him. “we’re losing time.” you said softly, feeling a strange knot in your throat. “we are.” Joshua watched as you stood up, slinging your rifle over your shoulder and leaving the cave. he stood, watching after you.

••●••••●••••●••

the atmosphere in the camp was different to that in the cave. where there’d been a sober silence broken only by a few meaningless words, out here there was a flurry of activity. shouts and chants rang out, splashing water, weapons colliding. last minute training and conversations went down at the same time, each Dead Horse member preparing in their own individual way to face the enemy. the elders and healers were blessing the warriors with marks and paint on their bare skin. some even began blessing the weapons held by the warriors, bathed in early morning light. you went to walk past the elders, who you assumed held dislike for you since your outburst yesterday, but one woman stopped you. she held out her hands, covered in paint, and you took off your hat, kneeling down for her. she was short and unassuming in appearance, but one look at her face told you that she’d seen more than you’d ever comprehend. her fingers danced over your face, making a mask of a warrior, and blessing you. she took your rifle from your hand and painted that too. a feeling of something you couldn’t quite explain went over you, like hands running through your hair, or a mother’s touch. suddenly, the old woman smiled, before turning away. she left you there feeling bewildered, strangely empowered, and ready to face the White Legs.

Joshua Graham had been watching the scene unfold from the entrance to Angel’s Cave. for some time now he had believed you to be a blessing sent by his God, or a divine being who he just happened to cross paths with. whatever you may end up being, he would spend the rest of his existence eternally grateful for you. the way you had accepted the Dead Horse tribe as your own, adhering to their customs and way of life so quickly. it may not have been your first port of call when you realised you were trapped here, but you soon realised what had to be done to survive, and Joshua could appreciate that.

he joined you by the river, taking the sight of you in before speaking.

“I see you have been blessed, by one of our oldest healers no less.” he could barely contain his urge to smile at you from beneath the bandages. you looked so proud for a moment, watching your reflection in the water. then you came back to reality. your brilliant eyes met his, and you looked away again.

“she does me a great honour, I can almost… feel her with me, or someone watching over me. maybe your God has time to watch over both of us today.” Joshua’s chest tightened when you spoke of his God.

“if He is willing, everyone here shall be watched over, and protected.” Joshua wanted to say more, but stopped himself. he could not let these feelings interfere with his mind right before battle. you were staring at the river water once again, then you spoke quietly.

“if He is indeed willing, we will live to wash in this river tomorrow. we all will.”

••●••••●••••●••

Joshua gave a short speech worthy of a war chief to the Dead Horses. those who would not be fighting would stay here, hidden in Angel’s Cave until either the return or retreat of the warriors and scouts of the Dead Horses. you stood there in silence, pushing the image of Caesar out of your mind and instead replacing it with that of the White Legs. they were your problem today, not some tyrant in the Mojave, which you had no feasible way of returning to yet. it hadn’t occurred to you that once this was over, you’d either be dead, kidnapped or alive and on your way home to the Strip to face Caesar. it felt horrible to admit, but you were starting to think which of the three options had the best outcome…

Joshua Graham was at the front of the crowd, leading the Dead Horses into battle. they gave off war cries and other unfamiliar sounds as you all waded up the river, but once out of the camp, silence fell like a blanket across each and every one of them. you were bringing up the rear, you and Joshua had agreed that it was best you stayed split up, for many reasons.  you recalled the conversation in question, one that had happened amongst the planning and strategising.

“and if one of us goes down?” you raised an eyebrow and Joshua leaned back in his chair.

“then we stay separate for the battle, as long as we can. should one of us fall, the other will assume command.” he offered up. that seemed satisfactory to you.

“alright, I’ll take the rear, you be up front.” you said, to which his eyes barely widened, but you still caught it. “what’s wrong with that?” you asked, leaning over the paper which detailed your plans and formations. Joshua watched you lean, and resisted the urge to touch your hair that was loose over your shoulder.

“I am simply surprised that you would volunteer to take the rear, that is all.” he replied, after taking his eyes off of you. he could watch you pour over battle plans and maps while sat on his desk until the day he died.

“well, you are the war chief. what good are you in the back?” you'd smiled at him before sketching in your position in charcoal on the paper. he’d watched you, imagining you on the battlefield the next day, victorious.

now, as you watched the Dead Horses march determinedly towards the White Legs camp, you wondered if Joshua had wanted you up front with him. would it have looked fiercer? more intimidating? perhaps, but your plans had been finalised last night, and this was not the time to go changing them. you instead counted your steps and watched the feet in front of you to distract you. so far the march had gone uninterrupted, but you had some distance before White Leg territory began. then you’d be in trouble.

••●••••●••••●••

Joshua Graham halted the march as you reached your destination. just past this trail was the last known White Leg camp, as reported by Dead Horse scouts days ago. this was it. you quickly worked your way up front to speak to Joshua. he seemed ready for battle, for war.

“Joshua, we haven’t seen a single White Leg, something isn’t right.” you whispered to him, mouth right next to his ear. he did not react to your worrying statement, but instead loaded his pistol. “Joshua, did you hear me?” you demanded, slinging your rifle down your shoulder.

“we cannot back down now, even if every single living White Leg is waiting for us in that camp. we fight here and now, God willing.” Joshua replied, not looking you in the eyes. you put a desperate hand on his arm. he went still.

“are you sure we can win this? if every single one of them is in there, armed to the teeth? with the high ground?” Joshua’s cold blue eyes finally met yours. his gaze felt entirely alien to you now.

“you aren’t abandoning the fight before it’s even began, are you, Courier?” you hold his gaze, but let go of his arm.

“I’d follow you almost anywhere, Joshua, but if this becomes a bloodbath, I beg of you… order them to retreat.” Joshua’s eyes slipped away from yours and down to his pistol.

“if this becomes a bloodbath, we won’t be on the wrong side.” with that, he raised his pistol in the air, rallying the Dead Horses. you ran back to the rear, shaking your head and sweeping sand from your hat. you loaded your rifle up, and followed Joshua Graham and his Dead Horses into the White Legs camp.

and it was a bloodbath. on both sides.

the second the White Legs realised what was happening, they had the jump on you. the Dead Horses fought hard and some, to the death, to advance into the main camp and start taking out the entirety of the White Legs tribe. you took out any sneaky attackers who attempted to cut you off from behind, but soon there were so many even you were struggling to drop them all with your rifle. close combat became the norm within minutes, and you were facing off against strong, bloodthirsty warriors with insane melee weapons. you couldn’t ever imagine the gangs in the Mojave fashioning these creations up, they lacked the imagination for one, and the sheer insanity for two. though many of the weapons you went up against seemed impractical, the White Legs wielded them with skill and ferocity that you hadn’t seen before. you started questioning if you were ever going to survive this. why didn’t Joshua hang back and think things through? why did he insist on charging in without knowing the odds? because he was Legion once, just like Caesar, and the arrogance of the Legion never truly leaves you. he is the Burned Man, of course he couldn’t wait to finish this war—

a loud boom, the earth shaking, you flying briefly then colliding with rock. hands on your throat, your rifle snatched from your arms. the White Legs had set off grenades, killing some of their own, but killing more of yours. coughing and sputtering against the warrior who had you by the neck, you kicked out, but they forced your legs apart and had you pinned hard against the canyon wall. it wasn’t a bad way to go, dying in battle, at least you died doing something worthwhile in this world. a clean shot entered and exited the warrior’s head, and you dropped to the sand. you didn’t have to look up to see who pulled that off, because he was already coming. he had you up on your feet, leaning on him, rifle back in hands. his voice was all around you, but you knew he was there, somewhere. you found your feet, standing up and letting go of him, and took aim.

one down. two, then three. Joshua snuck off, taking out more White Legs from behind. the Dead Horses were fighting bravely, taking on two or three White Legs at a time. you helped the best you could, dropping the odd White Leg warrior here and there. but soon you were spotted, and on the move again. knives in hand, you took as many White Leg melee fights as you could get. Joshua was still shooting somewhere across the camp, his shots evenly timed and most likely hitting their mark each time. Follows-Chalk spotted you across the camp, and made his way over, taking down White Legs as he went. for how soft he could be, he was downright lethal in battle. as he neared you, you realised with a start that he was covered from head to toe in blood. his markings were barely visible beneath.

“is the blood yours?!” you demanded, open-mouthed in shock.

“never mine!” he answered simply, moving you aside and clubbing a White Leg in the back of the head. a scream from somewhere made you freeze, and you saw a Dead Horse warrior die to a White Leg who wore a scary helmet and wielded a power fist. Follows-Chalk returned to your side, panting but still raging. “Salt-Upon-Wounds, the White Leg leader. you must kill him, without him they will die!” you were about to protest when a White Leg charged you, and took you to the ground. Follows-Chalk had him off of you in seconds, swinging his club with a war cry. you rolled out of the way, letting Follows-Chalk kill the White Leg, and took aim again with your rifle but Salt-Upon-Wounds was gone. he was just there. you scanned the battlefield with your scope, bloodshed was happening everywhere, but where was their leader?

“he’s gone! where is he?” you shouted to Follows-Chalk, but he was gone too. the ever-changing nature of battle meant you were now alone, again. you skirted around skirmishes and takedowns, reaching the spot where you’d first laid eyes upon this Salt man, but all he’d left behind was blood and death. the grisly sight of the Dead Horses falling on the battlefield hurt your soul. how would they ever carry out their after-death rituals if they lay abandoned on a cursed battlefield? you ducked reflexively as a machete narrowly missed your neck. one shot to the chest from below and your attacker fell, dead. your eyes scanned the camp again, raging with the sounds of war. you were sure that you’d never forget the sounds, even after returning to the chaos of the Strip.

an arrow whizzed past, just missing your face, you ducked down and ran, taking shelter behind a boulder. you aimed your rifle over the boulder, and spotted the archers hidden further in the camp, high up in the cliffs. that was why your warriors were falling so quickly, archers were picking them off! you steadied yourself and took aim again, within minutes all of the archers you could spot were dead, bodies hanging limp on the cliffs with single bullet holes in their heads. the Dead Horses began to fight back harder, now unburdened by arrows, and out for revenge for fallen brothers and sisters. you’d lost sight of Joshua a while ago, and Salt-Upon-Wounds had disappeared. you joined up with whichever Dead Horse you came across in battle, your kill count for the day reaching double digits. soon, the camp became a much smaller battlefield as the White Legs started backing themselves into corners.

you helped a Dead Horse member overpower a White Leg wielding a club, firing off another shot as another White Leg charged at you. they were getting desperate. they were beginning to fray. the Dead Horses were making a comeback, using the White Legs own weapons against them now. your eyes focused in on a flash of white becoming visible from the back of the camp, then your heart dropped into your feet. Joshua Graham was fighting Salt-Upon-Wounds, one-on-one, hand-to-hand.

••●••••●••••●••

you took aim, but the two were moving too wildly for you to confidently pull the trigger. you didn’t dare ask Joshua’s God for any more help, so you rallied the Dead Horses to you, and those who came were ready. you took them towards the back of the camp, flattening any White Legs that stood in your way. Salt-Upon-Wounds saw you approaching, and you went down to one knee, rifle aimed. Salt-Upon-Wounds held Joshua Graham by the neck, and God knows where his trusty pistols had gone. Joshua’s clear blue eyes bored into Salt-Upon-Wounds’s. your finger went to pull the trigger again, but Joshua was now in your sights, forced to stand before Salt-Upon-Wounds like a human shield. you lowered your rifle slowly.

“call off your warriors, or Joshua Graham dies!” Salt-Upon-Wounds announced, the battlefield stood still for the first time. you made a sound that told the Dead Horses to stand down, and they reluctantly did. “good girl. lower your weapons, all of you!” the remaining Dead Horses gathered around you did not move, instead they watched you. they were waiting for your move, and they would follow.

“do as I do, or we lose.” you whispered to them in their dialect, and it was passed around quickly. you threw your beloved rifle to the sand, and your knives, and the Dead Horses followed. they did not protest, they did it silently, they did it with you. for you. Salt-Upon-Wounds began walking towards you, still holding Joshua captive in his grip, a power fist on his free hand, already shiny with blood.

“you, outgirl, listen to me. I take Joshua Graham’s life, then the Dead Horses. then you will be for me, but not for kill.” Joshua’s eyes hardened but one look from you told him to not respond. his job was to focus on surviving Salt-Upon-Wounds right now.

“why not kill me?” you asked, lowering your hands and taking a step forwards. Salt-Upon-Wounds tightened his grip on Joshua. “do you know who I am, Salt-Upon-Wounds?” you let your hands rest on your belt. you could feel exactly what you needed.

“I see a outgirl who fights.” Salt-Upon-Wounds said after a moment, he was not big on talking, you realised.

“I am the Courier, I control the Strip in the Mojave and your leader, Caesar, wants me dead.” Salt-Upon-Wounds’s body tensed. “he is your leader, isn’t he?” Salt-Upon-Wounds threw Joshua to the sand, angry.

“Caesar… wants you. I give him you, and kill Joshua.” Salt-Upon-Wounds let Joshua’s shirt go, and raised the power fist. Joshua began to roll, you reached into your trusty belt, pulled out a small knife and launched it in Salt-Upon-Wounds’s direction. it landed in his face, he recoiled and stumbled backwards, yelling. you dove for Joshua, grabbing him and hauling him back towards the Dead Horses. the remaining White Legs watched in horror as Salt-Upon-Wounds was injured by an outsider. Follows-Chalk grabbed Joshua, but as you went to get up, you were dragged backwards.

you made fleeting eye contact with Follows-Chalk, then Joshua as you were flipped over by Salt-Upon-Wounds. the Dead Horses picked up their weapons as the remaining White Legs attacked. you saw the power fist coming, time slowed, Salt-Upon-Wounds pinned you down with his legs and yelled with pure rage as he brought the fist down. you reached up, twisting the small knife still embedded in his face. blood spurted out, showering you. you yanked the knife out, the shock gave you time to get it from under Salt-Upon-Wounds, but he was still bringing the power fist down.

you felt the dull heavy impact on your hand first. then the pain of your hand bones being shattered to pieces took over. your entire arm was throbbing from the impact. you were screaming but you couldn’t hear it. Salt-Upon-Wounds revelled in your pain, and raised the fist again. you clutched the small knife in the other hand, panting, tears forming in your eyes. he roared from above you, bringing the fist down in one big overhead swing. you whipped your good hand quick, and the knife flew. it skimmed the power fist and landed between Salt-Upon-Wounds’s eyes.

you were crying as Salt-Upon-Wounds’s stiff body went limp, the weight of the power fist dictating his fall. the power fist met the side of your head as you desperately tried to escape from under the now dead weight, and you were out cold.

••●••••●••••●••

Joshua stopped believing in his God right then and there. he was already up on one knee, but Follows-Chalk, fuelled by the fear of the power fist caving your face in, threw Salt-Upon-Wounds’s corpse off of you. the side of your face was open, blood pouring out. Follows-Chalk had his arms under you already, lifting you up and calling out for a healer. the surviving Dead Horses surrounded you, reaching out and touching your bare skin with their hands. a sign of respect, a collective hope that you would survive this gruesome injury and live to recount the battle around a campfire full of Dead Horse children, reunited with their families. Joshua’s mind was making his body move, but he had absolutely no awareness of it. it was as if someone else was taking charge of him physically as he worried about you.

Follows-Chalk sent any remaining Dead Horse scouts forward to call for the healers, the warriors remained with you, escorting those who had survived the battle back to the Dead Horse camp. Joshua walked in step with Follows-Chalk, eyes never leaving your body. he offered to take you from Follows-Chalk several times on the march home, but he refused, determined to get you home alive. healers came rushing up the river, war-torn bloodied scouts in tow. the old woman was there, stood in the river, a serious look on her face.

Follows-Chalk set you down in the river, holding you there so the old woman could examine you. she spoke harshly to her other healers in Dead Horse dialect, Joshua Graham listened but for the first time, he couldn’t translate the words in his head. the old woman bent down in the river, and her words seemed to move the water.

“the sky, the earth… we beg of you, as the blood of ours joins you, return her to us.” the other healers repeated the words, muttering under their breath, eyes closed. the old woman cupped her hands, pouring water over your open head wound. Joshua went to his knees watching the old healer work. the river welcomed him, he let it soak him through. Follows-Chalk also dropped to his knees gently in the river, copying the prayers of the healers.

soon, every Dead Horse member present was on their knees, praying and begging the land and sky to not take you from them. Joshua clasped his hands, rattling off one last prayer to his God. then, as the old woman’s worn hands touched your cold ones, a jolt of something went through you. all you really remembered was the hot blood streaming down your face, tainting your vision red. now you looked up and saw clear blue skies, white dancing clouds and felt the hold of the river all around you.

the old woman rejoiced as your eyes flickered open, everyone was relieved, thanking their ancestors’ spirits and the land and the sky for not taking you. mercy had been granted today, but it would likely not be granted again. Joshua slowly moved towards you, the river pulling him. he took you from the old healer’s hold, and sat you up out of the river. you looked around, surprised at being back in camp. hadn’t you just been facing Salt-Upon-Wounds...?

without another word, Joshua stood, carrying you up the river, and into the safety of Angel’s Cave. the healers did not use the same medicine that you were so used to in the Mojave, but Joshua was familiar with the basics. now that he had you alive, he intended to keep you that way. he carried you to his camp bed, carefully setting you down. he lit the campfire, taking off your wet clothes with as much dignity he could give you. he covered you in furs, then as your eyes danced in and out of consciousness, began stitching up the gash on your head. he knew it wouldn’t beat a surgeon’s steady hand and some anaesthetic, but it was better to close the wound rather than let it become infected.

he worked for hours, having to stop his hands from shaking each time you winced or moved your head away. he’d unravelled the bandages from his hands, leaving them exposed to the open air. he told himself that the constant tingle that soon felt like he was burning all over again, was nothing compared to this open wound on your head. you probably had one Hell of a headache too. he could really only pray that your brain had remained unscathed. he then carefully began to wrap your broken hand, though you had no real feeling down there and barely reacted.

Follows-Chalk, now clean of his enemies’ blood, came to see how you were getting on. Joshua had just about managed to finish the stitching to your head, if he ever forgot the sight of it, he’d be grateful. Follows-Chalk had the healers gather all of the herbs that could possibly help and brought them into the cave, Joshua had other ideas. he knew you’d found old world medicines in the Mojave, and often made more when out scouting for the Dead Horses. he told Follows-Chalk to search your bag, and he found the stash of Stimpacks.

Joshua hadn’t seen you use these in his presence. perhaps because you were trying not to invoke feelings of despair in him that no medicine would relieve his pain or mend his burns. Follows-Chalk, however, had seen you use these from time to time. admittedly, not often, but he knew how they worked.

“you push it into the skin,” he told Joshua, as you lay there, eyes closed and breathing shallow. “I think.” he added, absolving himself of any responsibility should this go wrong.

“I… I’ve seen this before, but rarely used them.” Joshua admitted. Follows-Chalk stared at the Stimpacks. another strange thing from beyond Zion.

“should we not use them?” Follows-Chalk asked, eyes lingering on your stitches.

“they’d help her…” Joshua began, when you opened your eyes and reached for the Stimpacks yourself. the two watched as you took one, jabbed it into your side, then removed it.

“done.” you sighed, handing it back to Follows-Chalk. “Follows, you’ve seen me use those before, don’t be scared of them.” you rolled onto your back and went to reach up to feel your stitches. Joshua’s hand caught your good hand and placed it back down to your side.

“I am no doctor, but we better leave those alone.” he said, thinking about how the stitches would turn out when they healed. if they healed. Follows-Chalk seemed to agree with the way he eyed up the stitches uneasily.

“there are no doctors left anymore anyway.” you mumbled, closing your eyes and rolling over to sleep. Joshua pulled the furs over you and stood up, clearing away his impromptu stitching kit. Follows-Chalk looked at you for a moment longer before standing, and approaching Joshua.

“Joshua Graham, I must ask you something.” Joshua paused, then turned to face Follows.

“what is it?” he asked, curious as to what Follows-Chalk could possibly have to ask him.

“when the Courier is recovered, I should be the one to take her back to the Mojave. do you think the same?” Follows-Chalk asked. Joshua was not expecting this question so he stalled for time by organising the medical inventory for a moment.

“I think that when the Courier leaves us, she should go alone once she reaches the Mojave.” Joshua said, giving Follows-Chalk a look. Follows-Chalk nodded, but in his head, he did not agree in the slightest. “she fell into our lives, and she has the right to walk back out as she arrived... alone.” Joshua knew he was lying to himself too, not just to Follows-Chalk. Joshua prayed for nothing more than to accompany you back to the Mojave and see how you live your life, but there was the not so small problem of the Legion, and your life did not have space for him… who knew who you had waiting for your safe return back on the Strip?

••●••••●••••●••

when you woke up, you had such a headache it made you sensitive to light and noise like some sort of mutated wasteland creature. Joshua had been asleep by the fire next to your camp bed, and when you sat up, holding your head, he came back to life. he brought you fresh water, handed you Stimpacks, ordered stacks of medicinal herbs from the healers. Follows-Chalk was in charge of the recovery of the fallen Dead Horses from the battle, so you didn’t see him for some time. you spent days in Angel’s Cave recovering, even then you weren’t sure you’d be fit to make the gruelling journey back to the Mojave anytime soon. your head hurt and your hand was still useless. Joshua felt both joy and despair at your predicament. he knew that you needed to get back to the Mojave soon, with Caesar and his Legion becoming an increasingly worrying problem, but when Joshua watched you sleep he saw your pained expression and knew you were in no fit state to travel. you barely moved your broken hand, he worried that it was beyond saving some days.

Follows-Chalk was surprised to see you still on the camp bed, huddled under the furs, stuck somewhere between heavy sleep and being consciously aware of the world. Joshua tried his hardest to get you to talk, drink water or even sit up, but each day you refused and fell back into a fitful sleep. it wasn’t until one night that Joshua finally found the strength to wake you. it had been a slow day, you’d tossed and turned and had bad dreams. the night was cold, cool. Joshua and Follows-Chalk took it in turns sitting with you, but you did not improve. Follows-Chalk left the cave to retrieve more bodies from the battlefield and transport them for proper burial with the other Dead Horse members, leaving Joshua on the night shift. at first, you were just whimpering in your sleep, Joshua had grown used to the sound, as much as it scared him. then you started to move. you jerked and shivered, the whimpering turned into incoherent words. Joshua shut his holy book and sat next to you, watching your face contort in your sleep. all of a sudden you were crying, repeating words over and over. Joshua couldn’t stand to watch, he reached out, a hand on your shoulder, but you didn’t wake. something had you stuck deep in your mind.

after several unsuccessful attempts to rouse you from sleep, Joshua pulled the furs away, his hands on your arms. he turned you onto your back, repeating your name over and over. you didn’t come out of sleep. he started to wonder if it was a seizure, or if he was about to lose you. he didn’t stop trying to wake you, and after he shook you by the shoulders, your eyes flew open and you sat up, gasping. relieved you weren’t dead, Joshua’s hands fell from you and he said a prayer. you threw the furs from your legs and checked that this was real, that this wasn’t a dream that turned into a nightmare. you’d had so many these past few days, unable to escape them. they bombarded you each time you closed your eyes. your eyes landed on Joshua praying and you began to worry that this was yet another dream.

“Joshua, Joshua, is this real?” you grabbed him by the face, leaning right into him. his clear blue eyes met yours, and his hands settled onto yours.

“this is real.” he took your trembling hands into his bandaged ones and held them tight. “I am real, you are real, we are real, we are here.” he told you, and you moved off the bed to be closer to him. he was real, thank the Lord. you ran your hands over the bandages and let the feel of them bring you back to the present.

“we… are real.” you decided, nodding as your hands went back to his face. “you are real, I am real.” Joshua nodded back, and you let your hands trail to his neck, then around him. he let you do it, just happy to be there. you had him in your arms, and he felt real and you felt real and you were finally free of the endless cycle of nightmares. Joshua’s arms then encircled you and you melted into him. your eyes closed but you did not slip back into the land of nightmares and horrors. you stayed there with him, safe.

“are you okay?” he asked, not pulling away.

“if you’re here… I think I am.” you replied, after thinking for a moment. words seemed to elude you sometimes, but it felt even worse now, since the battle.

“I will stay here then, with you.” Joshua said quietly, and you sighed in relief. you both sat like that for a moment, until Joshua’s arms managed to lift you into his lap and have you tucked in his chest. you watched the roaring fire behind, letting it soothe you back to sleep. when Joshua felt you go heavy, he lifted you up back into the camp bed, but climbed in with you. he removed his heavy SWAT vest, and his boots. in just his trousers he held you there in the single camp bed, furs covering you both, and prayed that your mind would heal as well as your stitches had.

••●••••●••••●••

messyyythoughts © 2023 do not translate without my permission, give credit if you repost, support always welcomed <3

#fallout #fallout new vegas #fallout joshua graham #messyyythoughts #fallout new vegas honest hearts #zion #joshua graham #courier six #female courier #Female Courier x Joshua Graham #sands of zion #part four #fnv

[vladolak]

Here is a new chapter as a sort of holiday gift ^_^

Enjoy ❤️

#fallout new vegas #ao3 #ao3 link #ao3 fanfic #joshua x courier #joshua graham #female courier

[juniper-tree]

These Wild Fires

What’s it gonna take to make her walk away from Zion? masterpost

Read on AO3  

1 • 2 • 3 • 4 • 5 • 6 • 7 • 8  • 9 • 10 • 11 • 12 • 13 • 14 • 15 • 16  • 17 • 18

Fallout: New Vegas - Female Courier x Joshua Graham 

Rating: explicit/18+

Belief wasn't something which came natural to Eddy. Neither did trust. Belief was like a sarsaprilla cap—worth something because everybody said it was. Trust was the rare blue star on the inside. Belief could get you killed, if you were dumb enough not to second-guess. And keep your gun loaded.

And trust? Trust was not a thing—it was a process. A long road, with so many damned curves and breaks you could lose your way.

So she wasn't sure she would ever believe. But she could feel. She felt something when Joshua spoke his word. When he told her about salvation. He was so sure about it, nothing would move him. She wondered what it was like, to be like him.

Maybe she didn't show it, but the things he told her—she thought about them a lot. Forgiveness. Sacrifice.

Forgiving was not in her. And she was fine with that.

At her side, Joshua laid his hand on the rock between them. Inches from her hip.

Here in Zion, the idea had come to her, quietly, like it had always been there: it was not up to her to forgive Joshua Graham.

Or for anyone in this blasted world she had wronged to forgive her. Anyone she'd let live.

People like her, like him—they left a lot of blood in their wake. It stained them as sure as they were breathing. It could not be washed clean, like it was never there, no matter what Joshua's book said.

But there could be a balance. She could give of herself sometimes, and do things right. Like those scales she could pick out in the stars. Weigh the blood against the good.

Could be it was enough to do that, just about half the time. To look for a way to be good. Like Joshua had done.

#fnv #fallout new vegas #joshua graham #oc: eddy #courier six #female courier x joshua graham #masterpost #complete work

[dalishkadan]

wip MONDAY because fuck rules

i was tagged by @thedashingcaptainweird to post a little snippet of something i'm working on. i wanna keep my gift fics close to my chest for the moment, but here's a little new vegas thing that i need to finish one of these days. i tag @dreadfutures, @a11sha11fade, and @rakshadow.

With his help, I had. In Zion I had learned, I had healed, and while it wasn’t complete, I was well on my way, firmly on the path, eyes now wide open to see where I was going. And though I didn’t want to admit it, that path took me out of Zion, out of the canyon, right back to the Mojave. There I’d left unfinished business, business I had to address before it was too late. The conflict was only brewing, threatening to boil over as the Legion and the NCR all vied for control over Hoover Dam and New Vegas. As much as I wanted to turn my back on it and forget everything, the guilt of abandoning the Mojave to its fate would have hung on me heavier than anything else, and I knew it. We both knew it. This parting, it was inevitable, an eventuality, the culmination of everything I’d become since I stepped foot here.

So then why was it so hard to leave?

I knew why. I just didn’t want to admit it. Not out loud. Not to myself. To put words to it would be to make it real, more real than it already was, and if it was real, that meant it could be lost, that it could crumble to dust in my hands, nothing more than sand to be swept away in the swift desert wind. And that … that I could not bear.

Joshua’s hand settled on my shoulder. “You cannot tarry here forever, Zelda.”

Nodding, I whispered, “I know.”

In one moment, he squeezed my shoulder, and in the next he’d spun me around and pulled me close, his broad chest making it easy to hide the way my eyes watered, tears threatening to spill even as I clenched my jaw and willed them away. I didn’t want to say goodbye, and so instead I told him, “I’ll come back. I promise.”

“I know you will, I have faith in you.”

He squeezed me that much tighter for just a moment before he loosened his grip, pressing something cold and hard into my hand. Looking down, I gaped as I saw his pistol, A Light Shining in Darkness, the metal of the barrel gleaming in the sunlight that filtered in through the open windows. This close, I could see the etching along the side, a phrase in another language that I couldn’t understand but that he’d once told me read, And the light shineth in darkness and the darkness comprehended it not. He’d wielded it as long as I’d known him, never parting from it once, and as I looked back up at him, I shook my head. “I can’t take this.”

Those brilliantly intense blue eyes felt as if they pierced my soul as he said, “I cannot accompany you, Zelda, we know this. And if I cannot personally ensure your safety, I want some assurance that you will be well looked after. This is the only thing I can send in my stead, the only thing I trust other than myself to keep you safe.”

All resistance in me crumbled under his gaze as I nodded, taking the .45 from him. In return, I unholstered Maria, the 9mm I’d taken from Benny’s corpse, pressing it into Joshua’s hand as I promised, “I’ll be back for this.”

With the way the skin around his eyes crinkled, I knew he was smiling underneath his bandages as he nodded. “Indeed.” Leaning down, he pressed his covered lips against my forehead. “Can you do one thing for me in the Mojave?”

“Anything,” I breathed.

Stepping back, he fixed me with that fierce regard. “Send my regards to Caesar.”

I couldn’t hold back a grin as I reminded him. “I am a courier, remember?”

#wip #fanfiction #fanfic #fallout #fallout fanfiction #fallout fanfic #fallout fic #fallout new vegas #fallout new vegas fanfiction #fallout new vegas fanfic #fallout new vegas fic #new vegas #new vegas fanfiction #new vegas fanfic #new vegas fic #joshua graham #courier six #female courier #joshua graham x courier

[meatcrimes]

chapter six is here!! it took me so long to write this bc this is where the plot gets complex and i was nervous about it

#t #built between my ribs #fallout new vegas #joshua graham #fallout fanfic #joshua graham x female courier

[couriersevenfuckers]

Ask box (mostly) Empty!

Howdy! I have 2 asks to do, and a draft to finish, but I’d love some more! So, feel free to send in as many asks as you’d like, considering how low I’m running. 

What I have right now: 

Boone x Female!Courier, A Lemon with more backstory than expected.  (Drafted, needs editing) 

Boone x Female!Courier who is like a little sister, but he realizes he loves her romantically. (Working on it) 

Boone x Courier Cuddles. (Gender not specified, needs to be written) 

So, Lots of love for Boone coming soon, but after that I won’t have very many ideas. Feel free to ask about anyone, like: Yes-man, Victor, Swank, Vulpes Inculta, Joshua Graham, Muggy, literally anyone.  If they have a wiki, then I’m more than happy to write them! Hell, you can even ask about my courier (please do) Courier Seven! Headcanons, stories, shippy stuff, all of it! 

Small note: Please be specific about what you want, relationship wise! Do you want it to be romantic, friendly, familial, hatred, or anything like that? And give me a small idea! “Lily x courier, romantic please” won’t get you a lot, considering I don’t know what you want. Headcanons? A Drabble? But, “Lily and courier confessing their feelings to each other. Headcanons, please!” Now, that! I can work with! It doesn’t have to be long, or even specific, but please give a little scenario. 

Well! That’s all! Go ahead and send as many asks as you like, about whatever you like! 

#fallout #fallout new vegas #new vegas companions #courier #courier six #courier seven #yes man #victor #swank #vulpes inculta #joshua graham #muggy #old world blues #honest hearts #(i think thats joshuas dlc) #not writing #Yapping away

[gocatboygo]

1-50 for Sarsaparilla?

ohhh my god skfjskdf sarsaparilla has no development whatsoever this is gonna be a blast and a half

1) which faction did they side with (NCR, legion, yes-man, or house)?

she sided with the legion from the time she saw vulpes in nipton bc Romam Armor Look Cool, cured caesar of his tumor & everything, and then just before the battle of hoover dam, assassinated caesar and sided with yes-man. she realized about halfway through her work for caesar that siding with the legion was never going to pay off and decided to Fool Him TM and then take vegas for herself

2) preferred armor?

OOF probably like… leather armor sdkfjsdk i dont know. she wore the tribal raiding armor at the very beginning of the game. she doesnt wear the legion uniform but i imagine her w some Legion Accessories TM like a mark of caesar on her chest or something

3) melee, guns, energy weapons, or unarmed?

melee babey

4) highest skills? secondary skills? lowest skills?

her highest skills are melee, stealth, and medicine (she polishes that up real nice when she realizes caesar has cancer). secondary skills are explosives and lockpick. lowest skills would have to be barter and survival :/

5) SPECIAL stats?

im just guessing at this point bc i dont remember them skdfjkd but i would say ST:5, PE:6, EN:4, CH:4, IN:6, AG:9, LK:9

6) what are their perks?

black widow, cherchez la femme, friend of the night, cannibal, scrounger, ninja

7) favorite companions? least favorite companions?

literally no one will hang out w her bc she’s legion ksdfjsd. she takes boone as a companion at the very beginning of the game and then she has to kill him. her fave would probably be cass, or raul, who is the Only Mf who will talk to her

8) any romantic partners? how do these relationships begin and end? are they healthy?

she thinks vulpes is hot for 0.2 seconds but she also thinks that about violet, gloria van graff, and some securitrons so i wouldnt worry about it

9) gender / sexuality / ethnicity / species / etc.?

cis female / bi / asian / human ((i just realized all my couriers are cis even though im trans as hell sdkfjsdkfsdj yikes))

10) where were they born/raised? when/why did they leave?

she doesn’t remember anything from b4 the bullet but she’s from new reno. she left because it’s new reno.

11) when, why and how did they become a courier? how long did they remain a courier before benny shot them?

she needed work after she left home and delivering packages didn’t seem terrible. she did it for like 2 years max before she got shot

12) how did the bullet affect them?

took out most of her memories (including her name) and sort of scrambled her good sense. she doesn’t feel very much fear, restraint, or remorse anymore, which is why she’s been doing All This recently

13) how did they deal with benny?

seduced him, slept with him, killed him in his sleep, and took his roomba yes-man

14) what’s their reputation with the ncr / the legion?

the ncr - fucking horrible she can barely go on the strip sdjfskdsd. pile body upon body babey. / the legion - superb. sparkling. if she weren’t a woman they’d even stop insulting her

15) what do the people in freeside think of them? the followers, the kings, the garrets, the van graffs?

the followers aren’t a fan of her because of all that legion business. the kings like her because she takes care of rex. the garrets generally dislike her. the van graffs like her a lot because she let them kill cass & did all their quests

16) what’s their reputation with goodsprings / novac / primm? (i know primm reputation was cut from the game but like let’s pretend for a minute sdkfjd)

goodsprings: bad bc she sided with the powder gangers kdsfjs / novac: she did come fly with me so its lookin alright! / primm: very mixed bc she’s pro-powder ganger but she also got them a new sheriff (meyer) 

17) what’s their reputation with the khans / the brotherhood / the boomers / the powder gangers?

the khans: she’s a Legion Ambassador… a shining monument of their new allies… Excellent and yet they know fuckall about her / bos: well she did blow up that whole bunker. / boomers: i dont remember / powder gangers: as i mentioned before she sided with them at goodsprings and made meyer a sheriff so they like her a lot. boxcars is happy to see her

18) what do the people on the strip think of them? the omertas, the white gloves, the chairmen, ncr military police, mr. house? do the gamblers like them?

the omertas: she did cachino’s quest so it’s pretty good / white gloves: idolized / chairmen: hey that’s the fink that killed benny / ncrmp: BAD / mr house: well considering the fact that she killed him, not excellent 

19) what is their motive for taking vegas?

literally just ‘she wants to’. the whole point of this courier was that she’s a no rules run, she’s lost a lot after the bullet scrambled her brain and she’s literally just doing whatever she wants to do

20) do they have a theme song?

no :(

21) what do they look like? how tall are they? are they attractive? any piercings, tattoos, scars?

she has black hair in the “blast back” style. pretty short, like 5′4″. no piercings or tattoos (but she probably gets a legion brand at some point w like the mars symbol or something). there’s of course a bullet scar on her head, and a few around her arms and torso.  

22) how old are they? do they know their birthday? if so, what’s their sign?

she’s in her early-mid twenties, very young. im not sure if she remembers her bday (probs not) but she’s a Sagittarius 

23) do they speak any languages other than english?

god no. she doesnt even try to learn latin jhjhkjgfkj she pronounces all of it wrong and caesar’s like please shut up,

24) can they read, write, do math, sing? did they ever receive an education?

she went to school in new reno so she can do all that. maybe not sing.

25) what were their parents like? are they still on good terms with their parents?

i honestly havent given it much thought. her parents were probably Just Okay TM. she doesn’t remember them.

26) what’s their d&d alignment? (bolded bc i really like that one ksdjfksd)

chaotic neutral, leaning into chaotic evil.

27) how’s their karma?

not great

28) how do they feel about killing people? do they try to avoid it?

like i said, the bullet messed w her remorse a lot, so it doesn’t particularly bother her anymore.

29) do they take chems? if yes, when and which ones?

yes, sometimes! usually mentats, buffout, med-x, or psycho.

30) do they gamble? where? is their luck good?

she likes to gamble. usually at the ultra-luxe. her luck is pretty good!

31) where do they usually sleep? do they have more than one home location? do they live with any other people?

she usually stays in the lucky 38, in her hotel room in novac, or in the tent Big C TM hooked her up with at the fort. if it comes to it she’ll sleep in the ncrcf. no one else really lives in her 38 save for the securitrons

32) what are their favorite weapons? where did they get these weapons?

her caesar’s fall collection legion-brand machete babeyyyy, one n only! she’ll also use a pistol (a light shining in darkness most of the time since u know she sides w joshua graham) or a police baton if that’s appropriate

33) do they flirt a lot? is it well-received?

yes she does and no it isnt! she licked vulpes. just. right on his visibly ugly face. one time she tried to climb yes-man

34) do they goof around a lot? do other people find it funny or do they just entertain themselves?

once again yes she does and no they do not! she’s doin it all for her, baby. chaotic neutral here we go

35) what do their companions think of them? are they close? have they done any companion quests?

the companions,, obviously dont think very well of her most of the time bc she’s legion. cass thinks she’s a Real Wild Card and respects her for that at first. raul doesn’t like her very much but he’ll still travel with her from time to time just to see what she Does TM.

36) why did you create them?

i wanted to do a no rules run! like i thought it would be cool to just. do the craziest things i could think of in fnv and do it all with one courier. and thus sarsaparilla was born

37) do they draw, paint, play any instruments?

hell no

38) how do they deal with injuries? do they use stimpaks, healing powder, med-x? does a companion help them? can they bear a lot of pain, or do they need to attend to injuries immediately? when they do have to see a doctor, do they have a preferred doctor, or do they just see anyone?

she uses all 3 depending on how bad the wound is. for minor wounds she uses healing powder because she has an abundance of it from the legion, but since she has fairly low endurance she often just has to use stimpaks & med-x. she’s not very tolerant to pain all of the time? but if she has a lot of adrenaline (which she comes by very easily) she can all but ignore it entirely. she doesnt have a preferred doctor

39) have they ever been irradiated? how did they deal with it? did it have lasting effects?

probably a few times but she just threw up and then took a bunch of rad-away and ended up fine. she’s never been damaged by radiation permanently 

40) in conversation, are they kind? gentle? sarcastic? rude? do they speak warmly and openly with people, or are they more guarded? do they talk a lot?

she’s somewhat talkative, she mostly says whatever pops into her head whenever it comes to mind so her talking is just. a big mess of Thoughts She Had. she likes making a lot of jokes that are mostly for her

41) do they like long journeys through the mojave, or do they prefer to travel more quickly? do they prefer using roads or travelling through the deep desert?

she likes to travel quickly. no time to waste! she’s almost always using the roads

42) name a random fact about your courier.

she thinks it’s really funny to blow vulpes’s cover whenever she sees him undercover on the strip & she almost gets killed every single time. oh holy shit it’s vulpes! vulpes inculta! spelled v-u-l-p– oh my god its the ncr mp quick vulpes take your dick out in this gift shop

43) do they watch movie holotapes? what are their favorites? least favorites?

yes but shes literally only seen blazing saddles, gladiator, and we bought a zoo

44) what do they do with the lucky 38? do they like being there? do they leave their companions there? if they’re a yes-man courier, do they open it back up as a casino?

she doesn’t leave companions there too often, like i said. she likes it pretty well bc of the robots and the hot water? but i think that she really prefers staying in hotels except for special occasions. she doesnt open it back up bc yes-man kills her sldkfjds great transition 

45) what do they do after hoover dam?

yes-man says fuck work and just absolutely murders her. hes like ok enough of this and finds a new human to do what he needs done skdfjksd

46) how do they die? how is their death received, by the mojave and by their companions?

yes-man fucking KILLS her ass! the mojave takes a great big breath of relief knowing they wont have to watch her shenanigans anymore skdjfds

47) what are their vices? are they an alcoholic, a thief, a hoarder?

oh boy literally all of them. she definitely steals a lot but thats literally just. a part of her “do whatever you want” complex that Is TM her greatest vice

48) can they cook, and if so, what do they cook? what are their favorite & least favorite foods?

she absolutely cannot. she likes pizza from the tops dskfjkds

49) did they kill caesar? vulpes inculta? what about prominent ncr figures, like kimball and colonel hsu?

yes she did kill caesar! her securitrons killed vulpes at hoover dam and she was power-tripping so hard she didn’t realize they’d already gotten to him. she probably didnt think about him again before she died. she didnt assassinate kimball herself but she definitely assisted in making the assassination go smoothly, and im sure her robots got to hsu sometime before she had yes-man throw oliver off the dam skdjfskd

50) what’s their happiest memory?

not to be fake deep but all this shit she does obviously causes more adrenaline than happiness. you could say that it’s when yes-man threw oliver off the dam, because that was her most exhilarating moment, or you could say that it was when she woke up in goodsprings, because it was the last time she was calm and being taken care of.

—

thank u so much if u read all this and thank you for sending me this ask. it took a long time but its a good exercise like i said skdfjsdf. send me more if these if yall have the heart, maybe not a whole 1-50 but like ! & please reblog my fnv courier questions post because i do think its nice, bye

#courier 6 #sarsaparilla #fnv #long post

[messyyythoughts]

the sands of Zion, part 2.

fallout: new vegas Joshua Graham x female courier reader

summary: for one of the first times since you were given a second chance at life, you’re hell bent on revenge, and not even a man like Joshua Graham will stand in your way. warnings: violence typical to fallout: new vegas (you should know the drill by now people come on 🙄)

read part 1 for this to make sense lol :) ••●••••●••••●••

your hat had indeed made its merry way downstream, and you fished it out of the water with a huff. it was soaked, but you replaced it where it always sat nonetheless. what you were planning to do would upset Joshua without a doubt, and you were only twisting the knife in your heart by abandoning Follows-Chalk in his most vulnerable moment. but you had caused this, and you were going to fix it. there was plenty of ammunition in that dropped bag, and you rarely missed a shot. as it usually did, your brain and body worked together on autopilot. you were too consumed with anger to rationally be in control right now, so you took a backseat for the time being. the anger was kept at a simmer, until the revenge part of your plan arrived. it didn’t take you long to retrieve the dropped bag, it was untouched thankfully. you dug out the necessary ammo, reloading your rifle and stuffing your pockets with extra. you added another knife to your other boot, and decided to snag a pistol for yourself too should close combat be required. you hid the bag in the bushes, and passed the bodies of the White Legs who had attempted the ambush earlier with a bitter taste in your mouth. you were about to deal a heavy blow to the White Legs numbers, or die trying. you tracked the remainder of the White Legs raiding party to a temporary camp. they must’ve not heard the commotion from earlier because they all seemed quite happy this evening. they had no idea that at least three quarters of their party lay dead in the dust, or sand, a short walk away. you were about to start your lone assault when a hand covered your mouth from behind and picked you off of the ground, taking you backwards to the cover of the cliffs. you struggled, but soon picked up on the bandages covering your mouth. of course he’d followed. “what you are about to do is ill-advised, not because I’m against it, but because you likely won’t survive on your own, courier.” his voice switched something within your brain that brought you back to the forefront. despite your now complete stillness, you were both still pressed against one another, your back to his front, in the shadows of the cliffs. you told yourself it was for fear of being spotted by the White Legs, but really his presence was a great relief, and his physique wasn’t half bad either. how he’d kept in decent shape with the injuries he’d sustained you didn’t know. “it’s going to happen either way, so make your choice.” you warned, your voice low. you were in a state that you could not be logically reasoned out of. only a good slap to the face would make you rethink your plan, not that you would tell Joshua that. he was silent as the White Legs carried on making noise and being generally rowdy behind you both. he was still holding you to him. clearly he didn’t want to let go either. “look, I don’t hold it against anyone if they don’t want to fight, just don’t try and stop me.” with that, you eased out of his hold, and started adjusting your rifle. “the odds are better with two of us, God willing.” he conceded, appearing to lose an internal battle with himself. “last chance to stay out of it, or join me.” you said, about to sneak back up to the camp. Joshua held your eye contact for a few blistering seconds, before taking his pistol out and taking the safety off with a silent nod. ‘isn’t he the gift that keeps on giving?’ you thought smugly to yourself, before returning to your original position on a slightly higher rock that would allow you perfect access to the heads of the White Legs. Joshua took up his own position below you, waiting for any stragglers to come past. you fired the first shot, and managed to get a few more in before the White Legs scattered for cover and started shouting orders at one another. Joshua was out from behind his cover and taking shots at those closest to him, so you retired the rifle and took out the two knives. one had worked perfectly fine before, and two would work now. you slid down from the rock, darting behind the tents and slicing necks and stabbing chests wherever possible. Joshua was making fine progress himself, taking out White Legs who dared to leave cover in a few shots. you were already slightly covered in the blood of the White Legs, and smiled to yourself at the chance to have Joshua wash it off again. you caught yourself and dropped the smile, before kicking out the legs of another unsuspecting White Leg and stabbing them in the forehead. blood gushed down their face, and you wiped your knives on your trousers. Joshua was reloading, and with you cleaning off the knives for a few seconds, you left an opening. a remaining White Leg jumped out from the shadows, knocking you down to the ground. these guys really seemed to enjoy knocking you over! with your knives restricted in your pinned down hands, you resorted to kicking out with your legs, but the White Leg resisted the flimsy kicks and moved one hand to your throat. realising what was about to happen, you took a breath, and their hand clamped down hard. it was crushing. this had happened a few times before, but not for a while. the pressure was enough to make you feel nauseous, but you kept kicking out, and fought to free at least one hand from their iron grip. a flash of muted white behind the tribal saw them lifted from you and tossed aside, you sat up and hurled a knife, landing one in their chest and then the second closely followed in their neck. wheezing, you fell onto your back, starting the classic coughing fit, and watched as Joshua put one final bullet in between the White Legs’ eyes. he retrieved your bloodied knives, and then bent down to check over your neck. he gently moved your hands away, and used his fingertips to move your head again like he had in the river. he was done after a few seconds, and offered you a hand. you both stood up and left that camp burning to the ground with some well aimed sticks lit by the dying campfire. ••●••••●••••●•• as you walked up the Eastern Virgin with the bag over your shoulder and Joshua trailing behind, just in case any White Legs had returned and found their camp ravaged, you couldn’t help but keep one hand on your neck as if that would protect it from the damage already done. when the camp was in view, you sped up, wading with force, and dumping the bag by the shore. removing your hat, you briskly walked through Angels Cave with Joshua closely behind. you were sweating, covered in splatters of blood that weren’t yours for the second time that day, half strangled and near exhaustion but desperate to see Follows-Chalk. the group surrounding him parted as you slowed to a stop. the presence of Joshua, their war chief, made them go quiet. they all looked to him, but he was too busy watching you. he had never seen guilt and relief expressed as you were expressing it, a sad smile across your blood stained face, but true tears in your tired eyes. you went to your knees to be by Follows-Chalk’s side, discarding your hat again. the others in the cave cleared out, sensing the atmosphere, but Joshua lingered. “I am so sorry, I should’ve seen them coming-” Follows-Chalk shook his head and took your shaking, scarred hands in his. “they had us outnumbered from the start. I’m just glad you were there with me.” you had to compose yourself from completely losing your cool right there in front of Joshua and poor Follows-Chalk, and it was a struggle. “what happened to your neck?” Follows-Chalk pointed out, reaching out to see the beginnings of a bruise forming on your skin. you shook your head and told him not to worry, that it was just a ‘random injury’ you’d picked up somehow. you wanted to keep talking, but the healers were coming back. you promised to come back in the morning, as the Dead Horses began flocking to Follows-Chalk’s side again. Joshua waited patiently at the edge of the group for you to retrieve your hat he had picked up from the cave floor. you had a habit of completely forgetting about your hat in times of great emotion. “thank you.” you said to Joshua, as you took your hat and left the cave to wash that blood off of your face for the second time. “would you like me to come with you?” he’d said it so casually you almost didn’t register it. “company wouldn’t be a bad thing right now.” you agreed, walking side by side with him into the open night air. you knelt by the river’s edge, shrugged off your overcoat and pushed your hair back. Joshua stood behind you, giving you space. you dipped your hands into the water, really feeling that cold seep through your skin, before you splashed your face and started feeling around for the dried blood. it had only been a few moments until Joshua was kneeling by your side, dipping his fingertips into the water. “face me.” he said, as if this was an everyday occurrence. you did so, relaxing slightly as he ran his fingertips across your face and washed the blood off. he wasn’t gentle, he really made sure it was gone, but he was careful to not be rough either. your hair would fall into your face a few times, and he brushed it back with practiced ease each time before you could. it made you smile slightly, to which he questioned you. “what makes you smile like that?” he asked, as he finished by running the cold water across your eyelids. “you getting my hair out of the way, it’s such a simple thing.” you replied, your voice tired and soft. it made him feel something again in his chest. “I see.” he simply said, not really getting it. “women are very easy to please when you get to know us, it’s the little things.” you joked, as his hands left your face and you opened your eyes. you certainly felt refreshed after two cold river water washes. “I’m guessing you don’t want anything cleaned in return?” you meant it as a joke, but watched as Joshua held out his hands. “really?” “if you wouldn’t mind.” he started unwrapping the bandages down to his wrist, and then held them out for you. “doesn’t it... cause you pain?” you asked, lowering his hands to the water’s edge and gently splashing them to begin with. “exposing anything that was burned to the open air does cause me pain, but that is how I remind myself of my failures.” you didn’t say anything as you rested one of his hands on your lap, taking the other in your hands and submerging it fully under the water. “is this okay?” you asked, hoping he wasn’t in too much pain. he nodded, and you gently used your own fingers to wash away the sweat from the day, and the dust that seemed to get caught everywhere. “just say if it gets too much, I don’t know much about burns.” you smiled apologetically at him, before switching his hands over. the wet one rested on your lap, drying out in its own time, as you carefully washed the other one under the water. his skin felt as if it had been reimagined in a different way by the flames, so what if it wasn’t smooth like yours? it felt just as human as yours under that water. your own hands were scarred from an accident when you were younger, presumably, so you shared a similarity there. “you know, I can’t remember it, but I injured my hands pretty bad when I was younger.” you placed the other hand into your lap, and then presented your own hands to him. “I don’t think it’s burns, but it’s... something. I was just thinking that we share having different hands.” his own hands took yours in his and he examined them. “no, not burns. maybe they were broken when you were a child and they realigned like this? but, the surface layer of skin is similar to mine, just not exact. perhaps there was fire involved.” you listened to his thoughts and looked at your hands in a different way. broken as a child? maybe, but both of them being so scarred? it must’ve been a terrible accident. “regardless, I find your hands quite beautiful.” he returned your hands to your lap, and started rewrapping his own scarred hands. you had to hide the heat that rose in your cheeks at his words, and stood up to avoid his eye contact. you picked up your hat and overcoat, before turning to Joshua. you weren’t sure what you wanted to say, but he seemed to have something to say. “if you feel like it, my part of Angels Cave is open to you, especially after today’s events.” you were a little taken back by his offer, but within a few seconds, you found yourself replying. “if you wouldn’t mind?” ••●••••●••••●•• Joshua had a spare bed dragged into his part of Angels Cave by some willing Dead Horses, and you chose a spot on the other side of the cave, as to give Joshua his privacy. you undressed to your undergarments and used an old shirt from your belongings as a nighttime cover up. had you been sleeping where you usually did out in the open, you would’ve kept some layers on, but the fire in this cave was warm, and you already had furs and a sleeping bag. yet, despite being so physically and mentally done with the day, you just could not find sleep. Joshua was still awake, you could hear his occasional movements from across the cave. after turning over for the third time, you sat up in frustration, and made eye contact with Joshua. “I hate to ask this, but where’s that book you’re always reading?” you found yourself asking, as you used a fur to cover your bottom half sliding out of the bed. Joshua picked up the book from the desk and you broke out into a smile. “would you mind if I took a look at it?” he stood up and met you halfway across the cave, handing it over to you. the bruises on your neck were beginning to show even more now, and that angered him deep down. the people who had hurt you and Follows-Chalk were long gone from this world, but he still wanted revenge. he watched with interest as you settled into your bed, and chose random pages to read from. he watched as your eyes grew heavier, and eventually you fell asleep with the book laying half open on your chest. he didn’t dare disturb you now that you had finally fallen asleep, but he did wander over to carefully remove the book from you, and place it by your bedside instead just in case you woke up in the night and wanted to read it again. he could go without it for one night, he knew it like the back of his hand anyway. speaking of hands, he had felt quite pleased ever since you’d washed his hands with such care in the river. he had to admit to himself that when he saw your stricken, blood stained face as you returned with Follows-Chalk, his heart jumped out of his chest and he froze right there at the entrance to Angels Cave. it was only when the others had taken Follows-Chalk from you that he had the mind to see if you were okay. the relief he had experienced when you said the blood wasn’t yours was close to joy, and he had thanked his God a hundred times since. but, he knew that once you had spoken the words of wanting to kill all of the White Legs, that you were on a path he recognised all too well. he had no right to stop you from getting your revenge, and besides, we cannot expect God do all of the work. maybe that was why he had taken such a liking to you since that first day, or maybe seeing you so broken over Follows-Chalk had reignited some of his own humanity that had been forgotten under the orders of Caesar, long ago. whatever the reasoning was, he felt something towards you, something that amplified his every emotion a thousand times. his anger at your bruises, his relief at your safety, his empathy at your pain. things he had not felt in years were creeping back into his life, and he wasn’t sure whether to be scared, or accepting. ••●••••●••••●•• the next day, you did not naturally stir at the crack of dawn like you always did. Joshua did, but he was quiet around the cave, and let you sleep for as long as your body naturally wanted to. he came back a few times over the morning to make sure you hadn’t stopped breathing or gone missing, but there you were each time, peacefully asleep. the bruising on your neck had taken full form now, and looked less terrifying than Joshua had been expecting. still, he was sure you’d feel it once you woke up. Joshua spent his morning going through the duffel bag that had been seemingly forgotten in all of the chaos yesterday. he had to give it to you, the loot was impeccable. your ability to find just about anything, or at least parts of it, was impressive. you were currently on your own mission to repair your Pip Boy, undoubtedly for the journey back to New Vegas where your home was, and Joshua secretly wished that you would never repair the Pip Boy and settle for Zion instead. but, he knew what it was like to miss home and your people, and he didn’t dare think about jeopardising your journey back. in fact, it would be right of him to assist you in every way possible in returning to New Vegas, and that’s what he would do as soon as the White Legs had been dealt with. at least, that’s what he told himself time and time again since meeting you. every moment he spent with you it seemed harder to keep that promise to you and himself, and he resorted to asking his God what the right thing to do was. but even God didn’t seem to have a straight answer for Joshua some days. when you did wake up that afternoon, it was to leave the cave in search of fresh water, which a Dead Horse member provided to you upon your asking. Joshua realised with a start that you had learned some words of their language. he listened to your conversations that day with a keen ear, and realised that you must’ve learned more than he originally thought. there were some phrases that you didn’t quite know, but you had picked up enough basic words and gestures that communicating was simple to do. when you were on your own by the river’s edge, he joined you, his curiosity getting the better of him. “I see you’ve started speaking to the Dead Horses without the need for a translator.” your eyes found his and you smiled smugly. “I have finally picked up enough words to not need Follows-Chalk as my full-time translator.” you replied, a hint of pride in your voice. “I’m demoting him to part-time now, I don’t have as much need for his services, and he isn’t well enough...” you kept your eyes on the river as you spoke, still carrying the guilt of yesterday on your shoulders like bags of rocks. “try not to let that feeling swallow you whole, you had no idea the White Legs would use such a tactic in that area. you both made it out alive, and that’s what matters to all of us.” Joshua spoke with authority now, trying to get the message through to you. you glanced sideways at him, before closing your eyes. “promise me you will one day forgive yourself for what happened. God forgives you, and so do I.” Joshua’s religion previously had little meaning to you, but after reading some of his holy book and hearing those words, it came as a strange comfort. “thank you Joshua,” you said, tenderly, before getting up, “I mean it.” you let your hand rest lightly on his shoulder before returning to Angels Cave to check on Follows-Chalk. Joshua’s chest felt funny again, and the place where your hand had touched his shoulder felt... strange. it was a good kind of strange, however, he liked it. it was as if you had brought him peace just by simply gracing your hand across his body. Joshua was starting to think you were God sent. ••●••••●••••●•• messyyythoughts © 2022 do not translate without my permission, give credit if you repost, support always welcomed <3

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[messyyythoughts]

the sands of Zion, part 1.

fallout: new vegas Joshua Graham x female courier reader

author’s note: OBVIOUSLY WILL HAVE SPOILERS FOR FALLOUT: NEW VEGAS, HONEST HEARTS DLC! summary: you need more time to think, being the decider of the fate of the Mojave and the Strip, and what’s one way to get more time? run away! you assist a small caravan to New Canaan, and everything is going smooth, until you enter Zion. warnings: typical fallout nv violence, what did you expect? ••●••••●••••●••

being the infamous Courier of the Mojave Desert was not something you often enjoyed. it came with more challenges than rewards, and caused more mess in your life than ever before. you wished you could remember back to when you weren’t holding this stupid platinum chip, that pretty much made you the sole deciding party in the fate and future of New Vegas. it felt as if the entire Mojave Desert was holding its breath in anticipation of your decision. well, you weren’t going to make that decision, at least not yet. you weren’t ready, you didn’t think you’d ever be ready, but a small part of you was pushing you to make that final decision soon. you had told yourself that this excursion to New Canaan was the last thing you did before getting your hands truly dirty with the dust and sweat of the Mojave. even as you met with Jed and sorted out your affairs before leaving, your mind was barking at you to turn around and sort out New Vegas first. but, you persisted, and found yourself on the road with no chance at turning back until the return journey. it was a good few weeks, there had been a few close calls but you had all banded together and protected one another admirably. late night campfires and early morning hikes created an unspoken bond within the group, and you found yourself enjoying it. you didn’t enjoy many things these days, being the person you were, so it was actually nice to forget temporarily about the stress and responsibility of New Vegas. it seemed as if reaching New Canaan was going to be achieved, much to Jed’s satisfaction, as the caravan descended into a canyon of red and orange rock, and dust. you had mistaken it for sand at first, a lingering reminder of your business back in the Mojave. with a sigh, you were the last one out of the cave, and fell behind to shake numerous amounts of rocks from your well worn leather boots. just as you had comfortably slipped the boot back on, shots rang out up ahead, and you heard Jed call out. you whipped your rifle from your back, looking down the sights, and seeing what could only be described as a tribal up on the cliffs raining gunfire down on the caravan up ahead. settling behind a rock in a crouched position, you aimed, and took down at least three before they realised where you were hiding. much to your annoyance and horror, they scrambled across and down the cliffs towards you, gaining ground steadily. you took down the rest, but one had slipped your sight, and scaled down the cliff to land behind you, landing a blow to your head and sending you sprawling forwards to the dust, or sand. your rifle clattered out of reach, setting your nerves on edge, as you only had a few other weapons on your person. the tribal was shouting, and you knew that it was not a language you had encountered before. the Mojave shared its collection of people who had their own dialects and accents, but this was entirely alien to you. a struggle ensued, with you pinned to the dust, and the tribal on top, fighting to get another blow to your head. you were too stubborn to let that happen, and too angry to think straight, so your adrenaline fuelled strength overpowered that of the tribal and you slammed them into the rock. they were shocked, but you didn’t give them time to come around, you landed several perfect blows to their face and threw them back to the dust, switching to your booted foot. precise kicks landed on the tribal’s back and ribs, and eventually they went still. you snatched your rifle up, and put one well aimed bullet in between the tribal member’s eyes for good measure. you happened to have first hand experience with surviving ambushes and shots to the head, so you did another to make sure. having narrowly escaped with your life, and not much else, you surveyed the damage done by the tribespeople. every single member of the original caravan was dead, they lay in the orange dust with bullet holes, and there was no saving any of them. with a heavy heart, you dragged their bodies out of view and took what you could scavenge from them. you went to walk back through the cave, and turned to your Pip Boy, only to see that the screen was dark. you gave it a few knocks to check it hadn’t just randomly turned off, and then sank to your knees when you realised it was truly busted. you let out a steady exhale, and stood back up, walking past the bodies of your caravan members, and crossing a rickety wooden bridge. still looking at your Pip Boy in utter dismay, you failed to notice a lone tribal about to take a shot at you, but before they could, another tribal took them out. you raised your rifle, steadying the scope, but saw that the surviving tribal had their hands up in surrender. you slowly watched them approach the end of the bridge, calling out to you. your gut said it was okay to lower the rifle, so you did, slowly. “hoo! that was close, you should be more careful.” that was your introduction to Follows-Chalk, a young member of the Dead Horses tribe in Zion, and a scout. it took some talking, but he had somehow convinced you to join him at his camp, and to meet his leader. he did not speak his leader’s name, which both intrigued and terrified you, but you had to assume there was a reason behind it. you exchanged conversation with Follows-Chalk as you went, listening to his advice, and warnings, of how to survive in Zion. nothing he said, however, could have prepared you for meeting his leader. ••●••••●••••●•• after reluctantly making polite and staggered conversation with the Dead Horse members, Follows-Chalk guided you into what he called Angels Cave. he did not take you all of the way inside, instead he waved you on all on your lonesome. with your rifle over your shoulder, you cautiously walked on, keeping an ear out for anyone up ahead. only one sound found your ears. the repetitive noise of guns being loaded. as you rounded the corner and entered the cavern, not a single thing on this scorched, God forsaken hell hole of an earth could have prepared you for the sight you faced. a man covered in bandages, wearing a white shirt and an old world police SWAT vest was sat at a table, meticulously inspecting .45 automatic pistols. the individual had blue eyes, not a striking blue, but a clear blue. it then occurred to you just who this might be. you’d heard the tales, the stories, the myths. the whispered warnings of what happened if you failed the Legion had been passed around for years. the reported NCR sniper shots of this man had been in the dozens, yet they had all been false. his only failure his entire life had been Hoover Dam, and that both amazed and sickened you. it was him who spoke first, to your surprise. you hadn’t expected him to give up any words without first pressuring you into speaking a few. “we should’ve given you a better welcome on your first visit to Zion, but from what I hear the White Legs beat us to it.” that voice. you could hear it for a hundred times and it would still send shivers right through you like you were made of glass. you hadn’t expected the voice of such a feared and legendary man to be so... bedroom like? there was simply no other explanation for it. “White Legs seem to be the only visitors we have these days, and I wouldn’t have expected anyone from the Mojave to come looking for us.” finally, he took you in. “and you’re a courier, no less.” that he was right about. “not the one I was expecting, but I suppose he wouldn’t have come with a caravan.” he added, a bit more solemn. you realised with a great crushing weight that he was giving you time to talk yourself. what was the best course of action here? explain yourself, greet him casually, pretend you had no idea who he was? surely he’d have some inclination that a visitor from the Mojave would know about him, so it wasn’t smart to lie. “I am a courier, but not the one you were expecting?” you finally said, trying not to sound as unsure as you felt inside. “I was expecting someone from Caesar’s Legion, he has sent them before. but, you don’t appear to be affiliated with them. are you?” he asked the question like it was a test, and you supposed it was. “I have no interest in Caesar unless it involves expelling him from New Vegas. he’s causing a lot of problems, as it would happen.” your heart was beating faster than you liked it, your body betraying your fear response. this man could put a bullet right between your eyes from where he was sat, and that would be the end of your second life. but, something told you it would be against his best interests to suddenly shoot you. he had the air of someone who held importance here in the Dead Horses camp, and you had an idea of why. Follows-Chalk had filled you in on the recent events in Zion with the White Legs being hostile and attacking the other tribes in raider fashion, and had informed you unknowingly that Joshua Graham was their acting war chief. “I see he continues to make enemies wherever he goes.” ‘well, you got that right, Joshua.’ you thought silently. you had to fight the growing urge to outright ask about the history Joshua and Caesar shared, what had really transpired after Hoover Dam, but held your tongue. that wasn’t important, you needed a way out of here and back to New Vegas, the Mojave, as soon as humanly possible. “I hate to be this way, but I’ve got some urgent business back in New Vegas. if someone could be kind enough to show me the way back, I’d be grateful, and I can compensate them.” Joshua did not pause for a moment in his process of checking his pistols. he simply gave you a single look before his eyes went back to what his hands were doing. “Daniel, another New Canaanite, has made many maps of the region. the bad news is that we can’t help you right now, not with everything that’s going on.” your heart sank, and you waited for the explanation as to why not a single soul in this vast place could show you to an exit that would bring you back to New Vegas. “even though you made your way in, there is no easy way back. without a map, you’ll die in the wilderness.” you glanced at your dead Pip Boy and realised he was right. even chancing the long journey back with the help of your Pip Boy would see you taking longer than if you had a guide, or a proper map of the area. you let your bag drop to the cave floor, and took off your worn brown cowboy hat. Joshua’s eyes flitted back to you, you had his attention. “I’m assuming that the White Legs tribe are the ones causing you trouble here in Zion, yes?” you asked, approaching Joshua’s table as you spoke. “well, seeing as you aren’t going to outright ask for my help, I’ll offer it. I will do what you need me to do in order to resolve the situation and get some assistance in returning to New Vegas. do we have a deal?” you were on the opposite side of the table to Joshua, palms flat and resting. Joshua’s eyes were fixed on your scarred hands, which you quickly pulled off of the table. “you are a good neighbour to us.” he said, nodding in agreement to your offer. a deal had been struck, and you were about to do anything to finish your end and get the hell out of here. ••●••••●••••●•• it had been a week of pure hell. there was no other way to accurately describe it. you’d trekked all over Zion on Joshua’s orders, with the occasional company of Follows-Chalk, to retrieve this and carry that. you’d met with Daniel and the Sorrows more times than you could count, too. your home base became the Dead Horses camp, but you were also welcome to sleep at the Sorrows camp if need be. you rarely spoke to Joshua for longer than a few minutes each evening to debrief him and receive your orders for the following day. it became a very professional relationship, partly because you were still wary of him, and partly because he was unsure how to approach you. you became close with Follows-Chalk, he often showed you shortcuts and hiding places around Zion. you taught each other tricks of survival each day, and when you weren’t together, you honestly missed his company. whenever you returned to the Dead Horses camp he welcomed you with a friendly hug, and you even took off your hat to talk to him, a rare gesture on your part. you didn’t even take your hat off to talk to Joshua, which he had noticed one evening when you finally emerged from the Eastern Virgin river, carrying a bag of things he had requested that you find. Follows-Chalk walked straight on over to you, and you stuffed your hat in your hand to welcome his hug. you neatly perched the hat back on your head, and filled Follows-Chalk in on your day. Joshua came to the conclusion that he hadn’t made much of an effort in getting to know you, and that was entirely his fault. truth be told, he was thinking about you sometimes when you were out in Zion, carrying out his orders. since he’d laid eyes on you, he knew you were someone special. maybe it was the way you looked, or your presence, or even your voice. that voice could talk to him for hours and he’d never tire of it, he thought. this thought often applied when you were exchanging stories with Dead Horse members around a campfire later into the evening, using Follows-Chalk as a translator. you were doing this very thing tonight, in front of Joshua. after you had finished telling this story, and left the members in entertained amazement, Joshua found a suitable spot next to you by the campfire and opened his book. you glanced over, and then he finally heard that voice speaking to him. “not that I’m being purposefully ignorant, but what exactly is that?” you asked, resting on one elbow on your side to escape the chatter of the others. you were completely facing him, attention drawn to his book. Joshua closed the book and placed it down in front of you. it read ‘The Book of Mormon’ on the battered leather cover, and you reached out to trace the lettering, the original colour long faded from use. “but what does it say inside?” you asked, to which Joshua flipped open the first few pages until it landed on one that was well thumbed. he obviously liked this one a lot. “will you read it to me? my eyes are too tired to focus on those tiny letters.” you said this with a warm smile, and surprise went across his face, but luckily you didn’t see it. you rested your head on your arm, and waited for him to start reading it. he did, and carried on at your request. he got through several pages until the campfire light became too low to see the words properly, and you thanked him for sharing his book with you. it was something simple, but it made his chest feel different, and it wasn’t the burns this time. as you settled into your sleeping bag for the remainder of the night, he found a question lingering on his tongue, but swallowed it instead. that was too forward of him, he’d only been in your company for a week, no less. if you happened to be here longer, maybe he would ask his question then. ••●••••●••••●•• despite the first week being hell, you carried on. you set a brutal pace, working like a dog, day and night. you reported everything to Joshua and only took breaks to hydrate or sleep. not a single person complained of your work, so you took it as you were doing a good job. that was until you were ambushed with Follows-Chalk, and you felt guiltier than ever before. you’d just finished looting an old world cabin, in the middle of nowhere, but obviously Follows-Chalk knew where you were. you had a bag full of things needed for the Dead Horses and Sorrows, and you were almost home, when Follows-Chalk went still and silent. you ceased all movement and your talking, reaching to your back for your rifle. Joshua had actually inspected it recently and given it a free once over. you found that it worked very well now, even better than before. Follows-Chalk went to signal something to you when a shot rang out, and blood splattered across your face. you grabbed Follows-Chalk, throwing him beneath you behind some shrubs, and saw a clean bullet wound through the shoulder. “it’s gone through the shoulder, but don’t move. I’ll get us out of here.” you had your rifle in hand, and spotted who had shot at you. White Legs, camping up in the cliffs, waiting. they’d been getting bolder and more violent with each encounter, it felt like, and the other Dead Horses scout reports seemed to feel the same. you started picking them off, one by one, as they revealed themselves. Follows-Chalk covered you from behind, but the White Legs had positioned themselves poorly in one concentrated mass, supposedly for a large ambush once you two had walked underneath them. you were in the process of reloading when a few lone White Legs started cropping up, having scaled down the cliffs to search for you and Follows-Chalk. you crawled deeper into the bushes, covering Follows-Chalk with your body in case they started firing, but they walked straight past. you were about to whisper something to Follows-Chalk when the bushes shook and a White Legs grabbed you from behind, hauling you out of the shrubbery and into the open. there were three of them remaining, and one of you. your rifle was still in the bushes, and with Follows-Chalk’s injury he wasn’t in any state to be using a rifle accurately. knowing this, you made an effort to escape the hold of the White Legs member who had a tight hold of your hair and the back of your neck. you managed to hook one of you legs behind theirs, and sent them sprawling across the dust. in the confusion, you charged at the other two, taking one down with you and then flipping them on top of you to use them as a human shield. it worked, as the other White Legs open fired at you. blood splattered and leaked all over you from the bullet holes, and the heat making the blood run quicker. that familiar tang of metal filled your senses, and you felt that switch into fight or flight finally happen. fight was obviously the chosen mode. you kicked the body of the White Leg member away, and tackled the next one who held the gun. you wrestled for control, and you were pointing the barrel to the sky when the White Leg fired several times and ran out of bullets. you wrenched the empty gun free, threw it aside and resorted to beating the White Leg down with your fists, sending small splatters of blood across the dust, or sand (you still hadn’t decided if this stuff was dust or sand yet). you felt rough hands haul you up, and you made hard contact with the ground, facing the White Leg who had found you in the bushes. they went to bash your head in with a club, but you rolled, and they missed. on your knees, you dug your small knife from your boot and plunged it into the White Legs torso. they stumbled, dropping the club, which you grabbed and swung upwards with. it made a sickeningly loud crack upon contact, and knocked them out cold. they might’ve died on impact or they might die later from head trauma, you didn’t have time to stop and check. you retrieved your knife, and held the club steady in your other hand. blood that wasn’t yours ran down your face, sticky and hot. the remaining alive White Legs member was writhing on the ground in pain. you had knocked out several of their teeth, after all. you sheathed the knife in your boot, and raised the club, bringing it down once with a crack and watching the blood pour from the broken nose it left behind. with all three White Legs dealt with, you abandoned the club, and ran back to the bushes where Follows-Chalk was hidden. you slung your rifle over your back, and helped him up, but the blood he was losing was worrying you. he leaned on your for support at first, but by the time you had reached the entrance to the Eastern Virgin river, he had completely passed out. your heart was loud in your ears like the rush of your feet in the river that disturbed the still nighttime air. you carried him determinedly all the way, cursing the White Legs as you went. the water seemed to be fighting against you as you waded, but when you rounded the corner and saw the camp alight with campfires and burning torches, you called out. several Dead Horses members came rushing to you, and took Follows-Chalk out of your arms. there wasn’t much else you could do but stand there in the river, watching as they carried him inside the cave in a flurry of shouts and cries. you removed your hat, and before you could stop yourself, fell to your knees in utter guilt and shame. he’d been hurt because he was with you. if he was on his own, or here in camp, he might’ve lived through tonight unharmed. water was soaking your lower half, but you couldn’t find a reason to care. something that surprised you was the tears that came to your eyes, you wiped them away but they kept coming. you hadn’t cried in a... very long time. even back in the Mojave there wasn’t time to cry, not even for a moment, but out here in the expanse of Zion, there seemed to be just a few moments where you let the tears fall. you looked up at the sound of water splashing, meaning footsteps, and saw Joshua approaching. you realised with a start that you had left the bag behind! you swore internally before going to get up and return to the scene of your crime. “are you alright?” Joshua reached you in the water as you stood, and you remembered the blood. “it isn’t mine, it belongs to a group of White Legs that ambushed us.” you cupped your hands in the cold water and splashed it onto your face, knowing that it wouldn’t do anything to wash it all away. your hat was lying abandoned in the water somewhere, probably about to float downriver. your body stilled as you lost all motivation to move. if Follows-Chalk died tonight, that was on you. Joshua took a few steps closer, and then bent down to you, dipping his bandaged hands into the water. not a single word could explain the feeling of his fingertips lifting your face to the moonlight, as he scrubbed the blood away. your eyes caught for a moment before you forced yours closed, shame filling your face. neither of you spoke words, there was just the sounds of the river around you that filled the heavy silence. sometimes your breathing got heavy as the adrenaline left your system, but Joshua never commented on it. he pulled his hands away from your face once it was clean, and damp with river water to cool you down. you hadn’t moved an inch as he’d held your face, a small part of you wished you had more blood and dirt for him to scrub away so he would stay a bit longer. “are you alright?” he asked again, not letting his earlier question go unanswered. “no, I’m not.” you answered truthfully. “I want to kill them all.” you said softly, almost like it was a dark, dirty secret. but he understood you completely, and sympathised with your mindset. “I... also left the bag behind.” you added, letting out a tired sigh. “will he be okay? the bullet went through, but the blood loss was...” Joshua offered you a hand and you both stood up in the river, water sloshing around your feet. “they will do everything they can for him. the bag isn’t a concern now, you both being safe is.” you nodded, looking around for your hat, and realising that it had definitely escaped downstream. “come to the cave, be by his side.” Joshua said, before letting go of your hand from his. you hadn’t even clocked that he’d been holding it since you’d stood up. “my hat went downstream, I’ll be right back.” you gave him a smile that hid your intentions as you started wading down the river to retrieve your hat, and then find the rest of those White Legs. ••●••••●••••●••

messyyythoughts © 2022 do not translate without my permission, give credit if you repost, support always welcomed <3

#fallout new vegas #fallout #obsidian entertainment #messyyythoughts #fallout nv companions #joshua graham #honest hearts dlc #fallout new vegas honest hearts #zion #fnv #fallout joshua graham #follows-chalk #dead horses #white legs #sorrows #female!reader #female courier x joshua graham #female courier #new vegas

[vladolak]

Guess what? c: New chapter time

I hope you like it ^_^

#ao3 writer #ao3 link #ao3 #ao3 fanfic #falloutnewvegas #joshua x courier #joshua graham #female courier

[vladolak]

New chapter ^_^

There's even a new character too and I hope you like them :3

#ao3 #ao3 link #fallout new vegas #joshua x courier #joshua graham #female courier

[vladolak]

I updated the fanfic with a new chapter called Hunters Gambit

Please Enjoy ❤️

#ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #ao3 link #fallout new vegas #female courier #joshua graham #Joshua x Courier

[vladolak]

I have a Crowley x aziraphale good omens fan fic in the works and it's a long one (still a WIP)

Also have the fallout New Vegas courier x Joshua Graham fic

Would you like me to focus on releasing one of them in a faster time period or continue working on both at the same time?

#good omens #crowley x aziraphale #falloutnewvegas #female courier #joshua graham

[vladolak]

I have a Crowley x aziraphale good omens fan fic in the works and it's a long one (still a WIP)

Also have the fallout New Vegas courier x Joshua Graham fic

Would you like me to focus on releasing one of them in a faster time period or continue working on both at the same time?

#good omens #crowley x aziraphale #falloutnewvegas #female courier #joshua graham

[vladolak]

Since I will be gone for Easter weekend, I decided to add a new chapter :D

I hope you all like it ^_^ It's called Familiar Strangers

#falloutnewvegas #joshua x courier #joshua graham #female courier #ao3 link #ao3

[vladolak]

Hiya :3

there's a new chapter and this one's a bit longer than usual and I hope you all like it ❤️

This chapter is called Quick Fall on Delicate Waves

#falloutnewvegas #joshua x courier #joshua graham #female courier #courier six #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 link #New Chapter :3 #Whats gunna happen? #Maybe something nerve wrecking #Maybe something cute? #Youll have to see ^_^