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nightingaelic · 3 years

Note

FNV Companions react to being re-united with the Courier after the Second Battle of Hoover Dam (NCR Best Ending)

TW: Blood, gore

As the screams of men, metal and guns petered out, movement on the Hoover Dam slowed. The sun was low, red as the ground beneath it, and the heat rising from the concrete and hundreds of gun barrels gave the area a faint shimmer. Most of the Legion lay dead or dying, their last gasps covered by the sounds of NCR soldiers calling to each other, looking for friends or officers or just reassurance that what had happened was true.

Victory.

Arcade Gannon: Though plenty of the NCR heavy troopers were popping off their helmets as the battle came to a close, Arcade kept his on out of fear someone would recognize him. The Brotherhood of Steel attendees appeared to be of the same mind, so he did his best to linger between the two groups and hoped both would assume he had arrived with the other.

Someone slapped the side of his metal-encased arm, and he looked down to find the courier beaming up at him, gasping like they had just run a marathon. "Hey, Six," Arcade said, surprised. "I thought General Oliver would've packed you on a flight to Shady Sands by now."

"Not yet. How're you holding up in there?" the courier asked breathlessly. "Looks like it'd be an oven under the sun."

"Oh, it is," Arcade assured them. "But it also stopped a few bullets and a machete or two, so no complaints here."

The courier bent over and put their hands on their knees. "I saw Daisy... saw her chopper off with the others after the fighting stopped. Oliver's confused as all hell, he doesn't know who they are, where they came from or where they went, but he's got bigger problems to deal with right now than chasing them down."

They looked up with a grin. "Thanks. Tell them all I said hi."

Arcade laughed. "Will do. And thank you."

"For what, dragging you and your only surviving family into this?"

"Well, yeah." Arcade looked down sheepishly. "Fortune favors the bold."

The courier nodded. "Fortis fortuna adiuvat."

"You remembered?"

"Of course I did." They gestured at the broken and scattered weapons and men of Caesar's Legion that lay around them. "After today, we're running low on people who know how to speak Latin."

Craig Boone: Though the other NCR snipers around him packed up their gear and headed toward the dam, Boone stayed put with his rifle until the courier made their way up the rocks to his position. They waved when they spotted him, and he put up a hand of greeting as well.

"And it's over," they said, plopping down to take a seat next to him and dangle their legs over the drop-off.

"Yep."

"Was that you who got that shot in and made Lanius drop his sword?"

Boone smiled. "Mm-hmm."

They smiled back. "Thanks."

The two of them sat together in silence, watching the activity below. Boone's smile grew and grew, wider than it had in years.

"Do you want to go down and join in?" the courier asked, when a group of NCR soldiers started putting broken defenses and wooden Legion weapons into a pile to burn.

Boone straightened his sunglasses and looked toward the horizon. "Yeah. I do."

Lily Bowen: "Pumpkin!" Lily bellowed when she spotted the courier across the dam, leaning on the concrete barrier next to the edge. She pushed her way past several surprised NCR troops, who yelped and jumped out of her path. "Pumpkin, are you alright?"

"Lily." The courier was pale, nursing a jagged wound on their arm. "I'm okay, Lily. I just need..."

Lily barred anyone else from approaching them as they rooted around in their pack. Finally, they extracted a stimpak and jabbed it into their arm, hissing as the medicine found its way into their bloodstream.

Lily inspected the cut carefully. Aside from its ragged appearance and the blood surrounding it, the wound was clean. The stimpak was working its magic, and the redness seeping out was already slowing. "Is that better, dearie?" she asked.

"Much." The courier sighed and leaned back against the concrete. "Legate Lanius had a sword. Not as... as big as yours, but big enough to slice me up when I got too close."

"You rest, pumpkin." Lily sat down on the barrier next to them, careful to hold her hat on in the breeze. "The fight is over now. Leo is quiet again."

"Mmmm-hm." The courier nodded sagely, before turning to face the steep drop below to the bottom of the dam. "We did it."

"How do you feel?"

The courier opened their mouth to answer, but instead threw up over the barrier and into the crevasse below. Lily carefully patted them on the back and produced a box of gum drops from her overalls pocket. "Here. For your breath, dearie."

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "Courier!" Raul pushed his sombrero back with the tip of his revolver, scanning the battlefield atop the dam. "Six, dónde estás?"

An injured NCR soldier looked up from the curb he was sitting on. "What's a ghoul doing here? He's not with us, is he?"

"Chinga tu madre," Raul swore, pausing his search. "You see the courier anywhere around here?"

"Raul!"

He turned back to the devastated landscape and there they were, jogging through the mess of bodies, shell casings and busted concrete. Raul laughed and spread his arms in relief, in welcome. The courier dropped their gun and threw themselves into his embrace, ignoring the blood and dust that covered his costume. Truthfully, they were just as covered in the battle's detritus as he was.

"I lost you so quickly," they breathed hard in his ear. "No wonder... no wonder they call you the ghost vaquero."

"Mij@." Raul embraced them tightly, then held them at arm's length to inspect them. "You had me worried. I thought I was the one who was going to have to track down twelve mariachi bands to play at your funeral."

The courier grinned. "Still want your medal?"

"Think the NCR'll give me one?"

They made a face at that. "If they wanna give me one, they'll have to give you one, too. Come on. I want to see the look on General Oliver's face when I tell him that you did just as much work here as me."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: A lone NCR trooper stood by the nearest flag pole, hoisting a scrap of fabric high above the scene. Cass could make out the two-headed bear emblazoned upon it, and something in her heart rose. She was still standing there, watching the red star whip in the breeze atop the dam, when the courier made their way over to her.

"Cap for your thoughts?" they asked.

For a moment, Cass tried to find the words for that feeling inside her. When she failed, she turned away from the flag. "Nah. Nothing you don't already know. What next, Six?"

The courier scratched their head and looked around. "Clean-up. Round up the Legion boys who are still kicking, grab everything that isn't nailed down before anyone else does, and pull this place back into some kinda shape."

"And then?"

"And then we drink." The courier pulled out their canteen and offered it to Cass. "But here's a little something for right now. Go on, keep it."

Cass drank deeply. Whiskey, just the way she liked it. "The NCR did good today."

Her traveling companion smiled. "We did good today."

"Mmm, not yet." Cass waved them off. "Don't lump me in with the bear before the work's all done. Ask me later, we'll see how I feel."

"Way I see it, if you had any actual qualms about this, you wouldn't have come," the courier replied with a chuckle. "But I'm damn glad you did."

They'd walked off toward the NCR top brass before Cass could answer, but she let the wind take the words anyway, small as they were. "Me too."

Veronica Santangelo: As soon as the courier was finished speaking to General Oliver, Veronica pulled them away and unearthed a handkerchief from inside her robes to wipe away the worst of the gore from their face. "Eugh. Is this... did somebody explode on you?"

"Hard to say." The courier pulled out their own bandanna and began wiping Veronica's face down in return. "How do you feel?"

Veronica laughed and accepted the help. "Honestly? I'm not sure what my parents would think of me fighting for the NCR, but for New Vegas it seemed like this was the best chance at stability. I don't regret it, if that's what you're asking."

The courier gestured at the Brotherhood of Steel Knights and Paladins that were milling about next to and among the NCR soldiers. "Your family doesn't seem to regret it either."

"Yeah." Veronica brightened somewhat. "They actually came. That ought to show both the Elders and the NCR that this, this is possible."

She watched her brothers and sisters from afar, making awkward introductions and conversation with the defenders of the dam and even comparing power armor pieces with the NCR heavy troopers. She smiled faintly.

The courier followed her gaze. "Did you want to join them?"

"No." Veronica looked down at her power glove, flexing the joints as if lost in thought. "No, that's okay."

ED-E: The courier found ED-E stuck beneath a collapsed barricade, where it had been knocked during the fighting by a lucky Legion swipe. They pulled the eyebot out and dusted it off. "You okay, buddy?"

ED-E beeped its reassurance and pulled itself from the courier's grasp, shaking in midair to dislodge any remaining debris. It did one final loop-de-loop to lose a large splinter before blasting its triumphant music at top volume.

Surprised, the courier laughed. "That's right. We did it. We won."

Rex: The chaos around Rex began to fade into the background, overwhelmed by the scent that clung to the courier at his side. A rush of endorphins, dopamine, a whiff of serotonin- Rex didn't know the words, but he knew what they meant when mixed together in that way. Relief. Happy relief.

The cyberdog yawned, signaling his own stress, and looked up at the courier. They noticed his movement and dropped down to his level immediately, running their hands through the ruff of fur around his neck and inspecting his mechanical parts carefully. "Good dog. Good boy. We did good today, you and me."

Under their touch, Rex relaxed. He opened his mouth to pant. It had been a long, hot day.

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siribear · 3 years

Text

shame begins to set in as they walk back to the father and son’s farm. alice leads the way, seemingly undisturbed, but danse - he thought himself better. in control. he clenches and unclenches his fists, remembering the weight of every impact - remembering alice having to stop him. that thread of anger -

‘you’re brooding back there, i can tell,’ she says, a smile in her voice. when she turns to look at him over her shoulder, he sees it in full. no condemnation, just gentle chiding.

‘i’m not brooding.’

she turns again to look ahead, and he catches the tail end of a grin. ‘okay. you’re thinking so loudly that i can hear you.’

‘what am i thinking, then?’ he asks, humoring her.

she stops in her tracks, the farm just across the street. outside, the father and son are already working the land. ‘you’re beating yourself up as much as you beat up that feral.’ a pause. ‘sorry. i know it’s bothering you.’

danse grunts. ‘i acted out. it was unbecoming.’

alice rolls her eyes. ‘unbecoming. that feral would have killed us without second thought. it’s not like - it’s not like it was a person with conscious thought.’ a shadow crosses her eyes, gone with a blink. ‘if it makes you feel better, i won’t tell maxson. i’m great at keeping secrets.’

he bows his head. perhaps she’s right. ridiculous that he should be so upset about this. he tells her as much.

‘of course i’m right. it was either it or us. i’m rather happy with the current outcome.’ her gaze shifts to her feet, then up again. ‘thank you, by the way. for joining me back there. i wouldn’t have made it without you.’ she turns on her heel without waiting for a response.

danse gives her one anyway. ‘i wouldn’t abandon a fellow soldier.’

alice catches the eye of the son across the way and waves. he waves back, and before she begins her jog over to him, she gives him a curious look. not pleased; the smile wasn’t as bright. brow furrowed, half smile. a reluctant acceptance? of what, he’s not sure.

instead of even attempting to decode the expression, danse busies himself with maintenance on his armor. the ghouls left scratches across his armor, superficial but numerous. the integrity of the plate hasn’t been damaged as much as the paint job. danse can’t complain. not when - he looks to alice again, talking with the father. she would have faced it alone for them.

like this lost patrol they’ve been following.

he’s tightening the joints in one of the hands when alice returns. ‘what did he say?’

she grins, then. ‘if you have to report back, you can tell maxson that isaiah and junior at county crossing have joined the minutemen. we should get moving. the satellite array is still a long way from here.’

danse nods and steps into his power armor. ‘congratulations. what are you going to do with them?’

‘help them get back on their feet.’

it surprises him. ‘that’s all?’

she shrugs a shoulder. ‘and now that i have their undying loyalty, i’ll have them join my army to take over the rest of the commonwealth. obviously.’

‘obviously,’ danse repeats, deadpan. ‘the brotherhood aren’t your enemy, alice. we both want the same thing here.’

‘and when the institute is gone? what then? maxson will leave me and mine alone?’

danse takes a breath. ‘the elder - ‘

‘has his own plans here, i’m sure. i’m not going to argue with you about this, paladin.’ danse notes the title. ‘let’s find the rest of this team.’

‘of course, general.’

days later, they reach it, and the revere satellite array is unrecognizable. much like faneuil hall, it’s covered in blood and gore. nets filled with bones and body parts hang from the satellite dishes and wooden walkways constructed around them. whisper listens to the steady beep of the distress signal through her pipboy speaker, turning it off when a super mutant wanders near their position on the outskirts of the array.

‘faris made it out,’ whisper hopes aloud. ‘he met up with paladin brandis and they’re at the holdout.’

the paladin grunts and stands. ‘his distress pulser is still active.’

‘no time to turn it off in the retreat,’ she offers. anything to bypass the group of super mutants, ten strong, standing between them and their next clue. what she wouldn’t give now for artillery.

shit.

‘well, paladin? any ideas?’

‘one by one,’ he says, stepping around her. ‘i’ll draw their attention, you pick them off.’

‘like before.’

he clicks his helmet in place and turns to her with a nod. ‘like before. stay behind me.’

she pulls out her sniper rifle and follows him through the scope. he steps through a gap in the chain-link fence, fully entering super mutant territory. a mutant hound far to his left lifts its head and sniffs the air, keying in immediately on the change in the air. its owner pays the hound no mind, letting it move on ahead.

whisper shifts down to her stomach, stabilizing the barrel of her rifle on a root. the hound stalks closer. danse continues to edge forward, almost rounding the corner of an abandoned rv. the hound spots the paladin, jaw opening to bark a warning, but whisper silences it - two shots into its neck and one to its skull. it falls heavily on the ground behind danse, who motions slightly.

it doesn’t alert the other super mutants, thankfully. okay. she scans the rest of the grounds - no more mutant hounds. some of the super mutants speak to each other in broken sentences. deep, gravelly voices mocking each other or laughing at ‘stupid humans.’

there’s no way for her to warn danse when he approaches one satellite tower just as a super mutant descends the stairs. if only they had radios, or - whisper rises to a kneel and fires at the ground near danse’s feet. he looks down to where the bullet hit, then up to the stairs, and manages to pull back to cover just as the super mutant spots him.

‘human! here!’ it roars, loud enough for her to hear it from her position.

it’s not like fighting the ghouls, who rush them without thinking. super mutants from the other towers fire down at danse, effectively pinning him behind the leg of a tower. whisper focuses on those, picking off two super mutants on one tower before the others turn their attention toward her.

with no cover other than the thin bushes in front of her, whisper ducks down and rushes toward the rv on the other side of the fence, almost sliding down the hill. one more super mutant goes down with a loud cry. seven more.

whisper turns the corner of the rv opposite danse and takes potshots at another super mutant rushing down the stairs of the tower. deliverer hardly seems to do any damage. the mutant shrugs off her shots to its legs as it stomps her way. a shotgun blast roars past her head when she peeks back around. holstering the pistol, she pulls out righteous authority and levels into the approaching mutant. six left, she counts when her target turns to ash and scatters in the wind.

five, when danse shoves one off a tower and it doesn’t get back up.

four: she watches danse grapple with another, the aged, metal catwalk barely holding under their combined weight. one shot through the neck, and it’s down.

she doesn’t get a chance to see his nod of thanks before she’s tossed back into the rv, landing on the hood and rolling over.

‘alice!’ and then the sound of laser fire. whisper picks herself up with a groan, blinking away the tears in her eyes. it’s hurt worse, she tells herself. the broken arm, the radiation poisoning, the -

she’s picked up again, lifted easily by the green hand closed around her throat. her kicks fall short, and all she can think is that the damn super mutant is smarter than barnes when he grabbed her. it slams her against the side of the rv, taking away what little breath she has left. the corners of her vision go black, the tips of her fingers brush against deliverer and she thinks she can grab it until she hits the rv again.

her next gasp for air is so sudden it hurts more than being tossed to the ground again. the mutant lands next to her, danse standing over it, but she pulls out deliverer and kills it before he can.

‘are you - ‘

‘i’m fine,’ she croaks. ‘th-three more?’

‘just one,’ he says, breathing heavily. he kneels and extends a hand to help her up. ‘up in one of the towers - ‘

whisper knows exactly which one when it steps out, a heavy weapon over its shoulder. this time, there really is no way to warn him, but she tries, god, she tries, using what little strength she can to pull him sideways -

they land feet away from the impact of the missile, whisper laid out on the ground, her arm at an awkward angle. broken. again. ‘d-danse,’ she wheezes. ‘danse?’

‘here,’ he answers after a moment, somewhere to her left. ‘it,’ he gasps, catches his breath as he rises, ‘it doesn’t have an angle on us, for now.’

he’s right. miraculously, the blast knocked them just out of sight of the super mutant’s tower. ‘it’s just one. we can - we can get it.’

danse looks down at her. ‘i can. just - wait here. your arm.’

her pip boy screen blinks in an out. it’s more than just her arm. but still she leans over, uses her other arm to sit upright. ‘that thing’s got a fucking rocket launcher. power armor or not, you’re not going to survive if it actually hits you.’ though muffled through his helmet, she hears the warning alarms of his power armor. ‘can’t let you go at it alone,’ she says, using her good arm to brace herself against danse.

‘fine. but i’m still the distraction, not you.’ she can almost hear the glare. ‘can you shoot with one arm?’

said arm jams a stimpak into her leg. it stings, but at least she feels like she can walk. ‘i’ve got you covered.’

‘coming for you,’ comes a growl, too close for comfort.

‘go,’ she hisses, drawing deliverer and holding it close.

danse circles around the opposite way, making as much noise as he can. whisper listens as heavy footsteps just around the tower turn around. she waits, resolves to a count of ten before she’ll round the corner. changes it to five when the footsteps pull further away. she edges out, watches as danse attempts to cross the field.

too slow - the rocket fires, deafening in its closeness, exploding behind danse. not as near as the first shot, but enough to stagger him. he can’t recover quick enough before the super mutant begins to reload.

fuck it. she abandons deliverer, draws another gun, bigger. one that’ll fucking hurt with one hand but it’s all she has. whisper draws up close, presses the barrel of kellogg’s pistol against the base of the mutant’s skull, and pulls the trigger.

danse finds her near where he left her, at the base of the tower, just beyond the corpse of the last super mutant. he knew her arm was broken, but - ‘what did you do?’

alice lifts her head, jaw clenched tight. ‘can you question me after a stimpak? please?’

he steps out of his power armor and grabs his own bag in one motion. instead of a stimpak, he pulls out a line of tubing, a needle, and a bag of med-x. ‘stay still,’ he orders, though he doesn’t have to. woman just blew off the head of a super mutant with a magnum. he’s surprised her wrist is as intact as it is.

the med-x hits her almost immediately, and she sighs with relief. he sets her arm and injects a stimpak before the pain can overpower the med-x. then a second, for good measure. he begins to do the same with her blown out wrist, and danse tries to ignore that she’s watching him, quietly.

‘you never answered my question.’ almost quietly.

‘which one?’ because she has asked a few, even in their short time together.

her head lolls to the side, but she keeps her eyes on him. he glances aside only long enough to inject the first stimpak in her wrist. ‘why did you join the brotherhood?’

he sighs and uses another stimpak before taking a seat beside her. he’s sore; he knows he’ll have bruises from this, but nothing compared to her injuries. she shifts next to him, her head against his shoulder. ‘stay awake,’ he says, still not entirely sure she doesn’t have a concussion. he feels her exhale heavily, but her eyes remain open, staring straight ahead.

‘i was born in the capital wasteland,’ he says when he notices her eyes closing. she hums in acknowledgement; he continues, ‘scavenged where i could, what i could. sold what i found in rivet city until i could open my own shop.

‘i met a man named cutler. we survived by trading in the city.’

a laugh rumbles out of his chest when he remembers some of the old things cutler used to keep. refused to sell, even if it would net them a handful of caps, just because he thought they were interesting. phones he’d use to pretend to call danse; movie reels he’d make up the stories for because he said he could make out the pictures; a photo frame he’d kept because he could barely read the word family engraved on it.

he tells her these things, and he feels her knuckles brush against the back of his hand. ‘what happened then?’

danse swallows. ‘we joined the brotherhood when they came recruiting.’ cutler sold his small treasures for extra caps; everything but that frame. he carried it with him, and eventually it found a spot on his side table on the prydwen for a year. it sat empty, until one of the younger scribes drew a picture of them: two bulky stick figures labeled with their names and an oval floating in the background. family.

‘only a year?’ she urges.

danse has talked about cutler before, to one of the prydwen’s doctors, to work through his grief. but not like this. he realizes she only asked why he joined the brotherhood, but cutler is - was - too important a reason to just skip over. it’s been so long since he’s just remembered the man, not the soldier he failed to save.

‘cutler went missing. we weren’t always given the same assignment, but it was never long before we returned. but this time, he - his entire squad hadn’t reported in when they were supposed to.’ danse remembers the initial news. the murmurs on the prydwen, the worry he felt. how he threw himself into the search for three weeks, scoured the land for what little scraps of information he could find. how, at the end of his search, they found an entire hive of super mutants. and cutler - he remembers cutler.

‘he was exposed to the virus - ‘ at her confused look, ‘the forced evolutionary virus. it... creates super mutants.’ this time, she intertwines their fingers, and he lets her. ‘they changed him. he wasn’t cutler anymore, so i... killed him.’

alice moves her head away from his shoulder to look at him. ‘i’m sorry, danse.’ she squeezes his hand and, without thinking, he returns it.

comfort.

danse pulls away and stands, rolling his aching shoulders. he helps her to her feet, slowly, and watches as she flexes her hands. ‘we should find scribe faris.’ she turns on the station for the distress pulser; the steady beeping indicating that scribe faris is likely in the cabin just overhead. with any luck, he’s only dead.

#siri drabbles #oc: alice ward #series: we will all go together when we go

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eeveevie · 4 years

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For the line of dialogue ask, could I please request: "You'll have to carry me" for Danse and Mads? Pretty please??

[I love new york meme here but instead of BEYONCE?! it says DANSE?!]

Back to the regular timeline with Mads and her main D; as in Danse.

Paladin Danse x Madelyn Hardy

691 words | Ao3

Danse had been shot.

Rather, he had taken a bullet meant for Madelyn, the .50caliber from the raider’s sniper wedging itself perfectly between the gap inhis power armor close to his shoulder. The firefight itself had been a surpriseas they departed from Bunker Hill, on their way back to the airport. But asthey crossed the bridge out of Charlestown, a group of raiders ambushed them.

Madelyn had barely fired off a few rounds before her tin-canpartner made contact with her side, pushing her against the nearby deliverytruck, shielding her body from the spray of bullets. That’s when ithappened. And despite Danse’s uncanny ability to shrug off virtually everythingthrown at him in the line of duty (she tried not to think about the time shealmost cooked him alive with the ArcJet reactor), the expression on his facetold her that this injury was different.

One expertly timed plasma grenade and some covering fire andthe raiders were cleared out, two wounded survivors clamoring off to theirfreeway hideaway. For once, Madelyn was too distracted to care about lettingthem get away. She’d send a Minuteman patrol for them later. Right then, shefocused on Danse, and the pained wince he held as he slowly—and much to hersurprise—exited his power armor.

“Whoa there, big guy,” she nervously laughed, stumblingalong with him as he fell forward, his knees buckling.

She leaned him up against the truck wheelhouse and for boththeir sakes, steadied her breathing—no need to start panicking before fullyassessing the situation. Though, when she pulled her hand away for a briefmoment, all she saw was blood staining her palm.

“Don’t look so grim,” he breathed, offering a small smile.

Madelyn gazed at him, off-put by his cynicism. Maybe it wasa side-effect of the wound, but she decided it was best to humor him. “You maybe a synth, Danse, but you can still die of blood-loss.”

“I’m not going to die of blood-loss, Mads,” he responded,flatly. That sounded more like the man she knew. The man she loved. Thethought had her flustered, heart fluttering—he was right—the injury only lookedbad, but he would be alright with proper medical attention. Still, it didn’tmean she couldn’t worry just a little.

“Usually about now you give me some kind of lecture aboutnot being well equipped for the field—” she shuffled through her pack for somebandages, wrapping them as efficiently as she could around his shoulder andbicep. Madelyn lowered her voice to mimic his. “Oh Knight, if only you’dwear your power armor!”

Danse grinned, despite the obvious pain. He happily allowedher to inject a stimpak before relaxing back. “I was enjoying being the damselin distress, actually.”

Madelyn laughed, leaning in closer to him as she finished uptightening the bandage. “You’ve been talking to Nick, haven’t you?”

When she was finished with her road-side nursing, shechecked her Pip-Boy, sighing in relief that they were only a few clicks awayfrom a settlement. “County Crossing isn’t far. There are Minutemen there thatcan help.”

“You’ll have to carry me.”

Madelyn blinked for a long moment. “Say what now?”

Danse smirked before repeating himself. “You’ll have to carryme.”

“Really. Me? Carry you?” she deadpanned. “You’reaware that you are a six-foot-tall, two-hundred something pound beefcake,right?”

“You can handle me,” the slyness of his tone had herblushing feverously, staring at him wide-eyed as he laughed. “Honestly, Mads.If I stand, I’ll just end up here again. And right now, we’re sitting ducks.”

She raised an eyebrow. “And how do you suppose I achievethis feat? I don’t even think a hit of Psycho would make me that strong.”

Danse flicked his eyes to his power-armor then back to herand she quickly got the hint, a hint she wasn’t overly fond of. She sighed, desperatelytrying to ignore the self-satisfied smile he was boasting.

“I’m starting to think you got shot on purpose, just so youcould get me in your power armor,” she remarked.

“Maybe.”

x - x

fluffy dialogue prompts

#fallout 4 #paladin danse #danse x f!solesurvivor #madelyn hardy #danse x mads #otp: dirty fork #fanfic #mads and her d's lolol #two timelines now #poweredbycoffeeandwine #it's been two years since I wrote for danse

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what-inthe-goddamn · 5 years

Note

Are you still doing reacts? How about NV companions react to a courier who can use magic, but they do it at a cost? Like, they can breathe fire, but it burns their insides when they do it, or they can freeze an enemy, but they get hypothermia from doing so. Or, maybe their magic just requires a HUGE amount of energy, to the point that it leaves them temporarily weakened to the point of unresponsiveness (if not outright unconscious) after one spell. Or both!

Arcade Gannon: It was a large gash on his leg, bleeding outrapidly. There were no medical supplies in hand, not even a stimpak. Arcadefeared the worst. The Courier knelt by him, pondering to themselves. Then theyplaced their hand on the wound gently and stood still for a moment. Arcade wasjust about to tell them that trying to stop the bleeding was useless, then henoticed a glow emitting from their palm. Slowly the wound began to seal itself.Within minutes the gash from his leg was completely gone, like it was neverthere. Arcade was stunned. “How did you…” He was cut off by the Courierfainting, nearly falling to the ground. He caught them and laid them out ontothe floor. They were noticeably fatigued, barely able to keep their eyes open.He had so many questions, but he decided to leave them for later once theCourier regained their strength.

Craig Boone: Boone finds out about the Courier’s magicalabilities after saving him from a bullet to the brain. An enemy sniper hadlined their shot up to him, and Boone flinched when they fired in hisdirection, shutting his eyes. Secondslater and nothing. Did they miss? Boone opened his eyes. Not even a foot fromhis face, a bullet round was hovering in front of him. The Courier’s hand wasstretched out in his direction, visibly straining to keep it there. The bulletthen dropped to ground, and the Courier did as well onto their knees, clutchingtheir arm. He was speechless, staring at them. The veins in their hand werebulging out. This was insane. “What the hell…” He couldn’t believe his eyes.Once they got to safety, he pressed them about what had happened. He wanted tomake sure he just wasn’t seeing things. Even after they showed him some more oftheir powers, Boone was still in denial.

Lily Bowen: Lily moped at her garden. The new flowers shehad just planted were withered away; petals scattered on the ground. The leaveswere a dreadful brown. The Courier had strolled up to her. They frowned at the plants.“Let me see something.” Crouching down, the Courier waived their hands over thelifeless flowers. As they began to perk up and gain back their color and petalsLily was ecstatic. “Oh my!” The Courier stood back, wincing as they looked ownat their hand. Lily noticed that the skin on their fingers had begun to shriveland were discolored a faint purple. “Dearie, what happened to you?!” Lily asked.“It’ll go away soon.” they muttered. “Your flowers should be fine for now.”Before Lily could ask them anything else, they walked away.

Raul Tejada: That cazador was inches away from stinging Raulwhen it was knocked down by a blast of frost. It dropped to the sand,solidified in ice. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Was he finallylosing his mind? The Courier walked up to him and asked if he was okay, placinga hand on his shoulder. Raul flinched at the ice-cold touch and glanced attheir hand. Their fingers were bone white, blistering around the nails. “Am Ialright? Look at your hand!” “It’ll be fine. It happens every time.” Raul shook his head. He thought he had seen itall.

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: She hadn’t even noticed that thegrenade had landed at their feet. The Courier grabbed onto her and held tight.One moment they were up against that brick wall, then suddenly they were 30feet from it. Cass was frozen in shock, jumping when the explosion set off andshattered the wall that they were just standing next to. Her head snappedaround to face the Courier. They were swaying on their feet, barely holdingonto their weapon. The Powder Gangers they were fighting were still tryingpiece together what had just happened. Cass took the chance to grab onto theCourier and run out of there. Once at a safe spot she sat them down. “Where didyou learn to do that?” The Courier tried to answer, but they tilted over andnearly knocked themselves out onto the wall. “I… need a moment…” they draggedout. She nodded and let them collect themselves before hearing what they had tosay. It still didn’t make sense to her, but she sure as hell was amazed by it.

Veronica Santangelo: A blast of fire from the Courier’smouth engulfed the Viper. The poor raider ran off screaming as they tried topat down the flames. Veronica’s jaw hit the floor. She was speechless as the Courierfrantically chugged what was left in their canteen, fanning their mouth dramatically.After getting rid of the burning sensation in their throat. They both looked ateach other for a moment. Veronica punched them lightly in the shoulder andhollered, “How did you do that?!” She pestered them about teaching her how todo it as well. Even though the Courier warned her about the burning, she wasstill fascinated by it and kept asking to see it again. The Courier tipped theircanteen upside down, frowning. “I’m going to need more water first.”

#fallout new vegas #fallout new vegas companions #fallout reactions #fallout react #fallout #companions react #companion reactions #aracde gannon #craig boone #lily bowen #raul tejada #cass #rose of sharron cassidy #veronica santangelo #my post

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boarix · 5 years

Text

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XIV

Gen 4

Trigger warnings: canon violence/language/gun, alcohol and drug use. Animal injury/distress. Death of named/game-canon characters. Suggestive/mature content.

Bloody Mess warning!

Game Spoilers!

Please enjoy!

“DOWN RANGE! DOWN RANGE!”

“I AM!”

Marcy Long and MacCready stood with their noses practically touching as they yelled into each other’s face.

“And for the last TIME, KEEP YOUR FINGER OFF OF THE TRIGGER! Are you trying to kill me?!”

“You just keep talking that way to me… I KNOW HOW TO HANDLE A GUN, YOU ASS!”

“Watch your language you… spoiled… brahmin patty!”

Cait, who was also taking part in the morning lesson, stepped back with an amused smile, “Oi, you two gonna snog or what?”

“I’d just as soon kiss Strong!”

“You should be so lucky, wench!”

Only a few yards away, Sturges, Shaun and Danse worked on Sanctuary’s large walk-in fridge/freezer. Duncan was within their view and was being entertained by both Panther and Dogmeat. As the argument’s volume was increased by Cait’s ire, Sturges had stopped and was alternating concerned looks toward the young boy and frowning deeply at the vocal combatants.

“How is it possible that I’m more annoyed by the sound of folk’s voices than gunfire?”

Danse, his face calm, holding a pipe wrench, walked with determined steps toward the three-way argument.

“Umm, Mr. Sturges… should we…”

“No way kiddo; I wanna see how this plays out.”

Large and imposing, Danse towered over the quarreling trio. Taking in an enormous amount of air, he bellowed at them with as much volume as if they were truant squires hiding in the Prydwen’s engine room, “LOUD NOISES!”

The resulting confused silence was so complete; it seemed as if time had stopped.

Wearing a smug smile, Danse stopped and tousled Duncan’s hair on his way back to work, “Okay, now what where you saying about condensation?”

Marcy holstered her pistol and quickly walked away toward the house she shared with her brother. When she passed Sturges, he could have sworn she was trying not to laugh. Cait was laughing and after a few confused blinks, MacCready joined her.

“Captain Danse, how did you know that was going to work?”

“I have some experience in dealing with difficult children.”

The day wore on and after morning lessons were over, MacCready surprised Sturges’s group by bringing them all lunch. Sitting together in the warm sun with full stomachs, it was no wonder when they all began to doze off.

Jerked awake when his head bobbed to his chest, Sturges stood and stretched, his joints popping pleasantly. Smiling at the assorted piles of napping people and animals he debated on whether or not to let them sleep: Duncan was using his father’s chest as a pillow and had a fairly sizable drool pool forming, Dogmeat had draped himself crosswise across Shaun, the two making an almost perfect “X” and Panther was in a cat-loaf on Danse’s chest and stomach, rising and falling with his breath.

“Sleepy synths and friends…” Deciding that there would be plenty of daylight hours left for repair lessons, Sturges sat back down and propped his back against the free-standing fridge. Just as he closed his eyes, Panther began to growl.

The enormous cat grew even larger with every hair on end. Panther had climbed off of Danse’s chest and was now stalking purposefully past the MacCreadys toward the settlement’s northern wall. Dogmeat was following close behind, his deep growl merging with the cat’s creating a sound that was almost harmonic.

“Danse, take my son. Get them all in the fridge. Now!” MacCready had rolled to his stomach and was low in the grass.

Duncan whimpered but allowed the large man to pick him up, “Daddy?”

“It’ll be okay, little man.” Training his eye just above Dogmeat’s head, MacCready could see a slight shimmer in the air as something moved between the houses. “Great. Just, flippin’ wonderful. And of course, I don’t have a walkie!” Unwilling to shoot without a clear target, he watched the ripple advance on the snarling animals, “Speak! Bark, Dogmeat! Call for help!”

Tilting his muzzle to the heavens, the German shepherd let loose with a long mournful howl.

Phasing into view, the young chameleon deathclaw answered with a challenging roar. Focusing a baleful eye on the sniper, the beast dropped to all fours and leaped.

Rolling out of the way, MacCready vaulted to his feet and ran toward the wall. He hoped to lead it away from the freezer and possibly back through the fence breach. A pained yelp stopped his sprint and he turned to see Dogmeat narrowly avoid a swinging hit, bright blood already flowing down the dog’s right flank.

Panther seemed to fly through the air as it came to the canine’s defense. Once atop the monster’s shoulder, the cat dug in with both fang and front paws, raking the deathclaw’s ribs with its scythe-like rear claws unmercifully.

Taking the opportunity of a stationary, visible target, MacCready fired round after round at the beast’s closest knee.

The deathclaw decided that perhaps this herd was entirely out of his league and that retreat was the best option. Contracting the chromatophores in its skin, the creature blinked out of sight. Raking a claw across its own back, it dislodged Panther and cast the feline into the side of a nearby house.

Danse emerged from the freezer just in time to see the cat hit with a sickening crunch, “NOOOOOO!” Able to see the monster by the damage on its side, he rapidly closed the distance and with every last ounce of his strength, impaled the deathclaw through its wound with the handle of his pipe wrench.

The creature came back into view even as the light left its eyes.

Cradling the still form of Panther in his arms, Danse didn’t even acknowledge his astonishing victory. “CURIE!” Anguish and fear were clear in his voice as he dashed to the clinic.

Waving the all-clear and leaving cleanup to the Minutemen, Sturges and the children watched as MacCready gave Dogmeat a stimpak. The sniper scooped the dog into his arms and they all followed Danse.

“Looks like you’ve earned yourself some stiches too, puppy dog.”

“Do you have to eat?”

“Wha...?”

“Shaun asked me if you, Bear and Billy have to eat. I told him I didn’t think so, because Billy… are you laughing at me?”

“No! Heh, I would never laugh at you, sunshine.” Hancock’s bed shook slightly, revealing his lie. “Now, strictly speakin’, I’ve never tried going without chow. I enjoy good food. Eating is… pleasurable. And we’re all aware how pleasure-centric I am!”

“Mmmhmmm!” It wasn’t just the ghoul’s own pleasure he focused on. “Ugh… I don’t wanna get up.”

Hancock pulled her closer and nuzzled her neck, “So don’t. I’ll get up in a minute and bring us breakfast. As ghoulish as you are, I know you still need to eat. Heh, we burned a lot of calories last night, you feel me?”

Wraith had spent almost two months in Sanctuary after returning with Duncan MacCready. The group had stopped on the way to pick up Shaun and Nat and the children had formed fast friendships. Shaun and Duncan were already referring to each other as “brother”. Nat had been sad when it came time for Wraith to take her home but she held her head high and said her goodbyes with grace. Hancock had tagged along and he and Wraith had continued on to Goodneighbor after. Now, almost a week later, Wraith felt her schedule creeping up on her.

“I’ll have to dine-and-dash; if I’m gonna get to Diamond city by noon.”

“I thought Davidson was on top of things over there. You feel like you gotta babysit ‘im?”

“George is dead.” Wraith sighed, “I don’t have a official replacement yet.”

“Shit…”

A few minutes later, Hancock returned with eggs to find Wraith standing next to his bed, rotating her left shoulder.

“That arm still buggin’ ya?”

“No actually, it’s felt better in the last few days than it has since my surgery. Weird…”

A strange smile appeared on Hancock’s lips, “So your ghoulishness has you heal by radiation, right?”

“A little. Not as much as you… now why are you laughing?”

Doubled over in mirth he could hardly speak, “You… we’ve been… ha ha… a lot… *wheeze*… so you’re… I’m helping…”

Wraith blushed but joined in his laughter, “Sexual healing, huh?”

“How do you like the new pad?”

Wraith had wanted nothing to do with Kellogg’s property and Piper had tried to gift the home to Valentine and Ellie right after their wedding but they had resisted. She had suggested that the home could be considered payment for years of dedication to the city and the detective’s aid in locating Wraith’s son. After much debate, they finally relented.

After working on Minutemen affairs for several days, Wraith had been invited to dinner at the Valentine’s. Now, enjoying a quiet meal with her friends, she couldn’t help but feel a sense of nostalgia; the domesticity reminded her of time before the war.

“It took a while to get the smell out from those darn cigars but it’s nice to have a separate place from the agency.”

“Ellie makes sure we keep all our work at work... keeps the clutter down.”

Wraith smiled as the pair made what could only be described as love-sick googly eyes at each other, “Speaking of work…”

“It’s been fairly steady lately. In fact, I just wrapped something up and surprisingly enough, I don’t have another case that I’ve immediately got to jump on. A little brake will be nice...” As if on cue, there was a knock at the door. When Valentine set his eye to the peephole, his smile vanished, “It’s Edward Deegan…”

“I’m sorry to bother you at home detective but this is a matter of some urgency.”

Valentine stood in the doorway, reluctant to let the ghoul in, “Don’t tell me, Jack’s got another wacko, alien abductee that I’m supposed to interview…”

“No, and I’m sorry about that, but Jack’s been shot.”

Wraith was under the detective’s arm and in Deegan’s face in the blink of an eye, “Is he alive? Who shot him?”

The bodyguard took a surprised step backward and tipped his cap awkwardly, “Oh… ma’am… I didn’t think I’d find the pair of you together… I suppose that’s lucky for me…”

“I’ll pack your kit, Nick. Now invite the man in!”

“I… I’m not getting a say in this, am I?”

After the destruction of the Institute, Wraith had introduced Dr. Virgil to Jack Cabot in the hopes that he might curb some of Jack’s more “mad scientist” tendencies. The two had apparently hit it off to the point where Virgil was invited to move in and was granted his own lab space. Satisfied that they might keep each other occupied and out of trouble, Wraith had all but forgotten them.

Now allegedly, Virgil had kidnapped Jack’s sister Emogene, shooting her brother when he attempted to intervene.

“That doesn’t sound like Brian to me; he’s really not the violent sort.” Wraith and Valentine moved quickly through the ruins on their way to Cabot House, “He left the Institute because they were hurting people after all.”

Valentine agreed, “His first love has always been his research; doesn’t strike me as the type to lose his marbles over a dame. Let alone run off with her.”

“Someone isn’t telling us the whole truth here.”

“He’s bewitched by her and mad with desire!” Jack was lying in his bed with shoulder in a sling, “I’m not sure why you came here. I told Edward everything that happened. You should be out looking for her! Them… you should be out looking… for them.”

Wraith’s voice was gentle, “Jack, we really want to help but we need a better idea of what happened.”

“She… he shot me. He took them… her! I’m very tired now, please…”

“Mr. Cabot I’ll have no more nonsense today. It’s late and I left half my dinner and my patience at home. Tell us the truth. There is not a snowball’s chance in hell we’ll find them if you’re hiding information. Facts. Now.” Valentine had folded his arms and was glaring at him.

“Jack… they came all this way…”

Wraith was surprised to see fear cross the scientist’s face and tears in his eyes. She reached out to pat his arm, “Hey, it’s okay. No one’s going to hurt you.”

“You might, once you know…” Jack made an attempt at gathered himself but when he spoke, the words tumbled out in a confusing, panicked rush, “Emogene shot me. I know I told you I was going to destroy my father’s body but I was so close to removing the artifact…. His corpse had not even begun to decompose, even after all this time! Virgil and I began research on possible medicinal applications. Emogene was in a fury after I told her the serum would no longer be available and when she found out that we still had his body… she has Virgil! She’s going to make him implant the artifact in her! She hired some… RUFFIAN THUGS! They took equipment and Brian… I tried to stop her but she… she SHOT ME! You must stop her!”

“Oh… Jack…” Deegan shook his head sadly.

“Am I right in thinking that if this ‘transplant’ is successful, we’re going to have a full-on, telekinetic psychopath running around?”

“Actually, she might be able to propel herself through the air…”

“Oh? Swell.”

Wraith had not spoken and she stood with arms crossed, face like a thunderstorm. “You. Promised. Me.”

Blubbering like an infant, the scientist pleaded for her forgiveness, “You must understand! We were going to save lives! We had you in mind…”

“Oh, no. You were not thinking of me at all.” She turned her back on him, “Ruffian thugs? Do you suppose she hired mercs from Bunker Hill?”

Although Wraith technically owned the trading hub, she left most of the day-to-day to Kessler. The Minutemen were responsible for security and Hancock managed trade routes, barter agreements and the regulation of independent mercenaries. Kessler made regular reports to the ghoul and if there were matters of concern, Hancock would usually take care of them.

“Stands to reason, options are limited now that you’ve nixed the Gunners.” Valentine gave a mirthless laugh, “She’s not going to go to the Minutemen for help.”

Deegan seemed surprised when Wraith headed for the door, “You’re going now? It’s the middle of the night!”

“I’m sorry; did you not just hear what’s going on?!” She motioned for the ghoul to follow, “You are coming with.”

“Edward! Promise me… promise me you’ll save her!”

“Jack… I promise.”

“They didn’t come back yet.” Irritated at being awoken, the usually helpful Kessler was giving clipped answers through a clenched jaw, “I don’t know where they were going either.”

“How many mercs? What group?” Wraith wasn’t about to back down.

“Everybody’s filing nice, neat records now that John’s keeping tabs on the place, right? Just point us to the company cabinet and we’ll get out of your hair.”

Kessler frowned, “I can’t let just anyone…”

“Am I ‘just anyone’?” Wraith’s tone was steel.

As if she suddenly remembered who she was speaking to, the now pale Kessler briskly led them to the correct file cabinet, “If you need anything else…” Trailing off, she retreated back to her bedroom.

“Found it; ‘equipment and resource allocation and relocation’ for E. C. Looks like they were heading to Vault Ninety-five. You familiar, partner?”

“Yes, I’ve been there. They might be planning on repurposing the vault’s medical equipment.” Wraith stifled a yawn, “That’s a helluva ways from here…”

“They have a big head start too...”

“Brahmincart!” Wraith smacked a fist into her palm.

“Bless you…”

“No, no; I mean that we’ll head back through Diamond city, grab some more heavy-duty ordnance and sleep in the wagon on our way down to Somerville Place.”

“It’s too bad the Hounds don’t have more… hounds.”

Wraith was surprised, “You would ride puppy-back, Val?”

“Sure! You only live once, right?”

Wraith set a blistering pace on the return to the ballpark. Outfitting themselves and hitching up the fastest possible brahmin team took longer than she would have liked; making the prevention of the transplant seem less likely. The delay strengthened her resolve for an upcoming conversation with Deegan that she knew neither of them would enjoy.

“I want you to take this,” The trio had just finished a perimeter sweep of the vault and Wraith wasn’t sure if she should be concerned or relieved that there wasn’t a posted guard. She handed the ghoul an anti-materiel rifle, “It’s technically Mac’s birthday present so… maybe don’t mention it to him if you get to use it first.”

“What exactly do you want me to do with this?!”

“I want you to stay here. Stay well back from the entrance. It’s the only way in or out, so if she gets past us…”

“Now wait just a damn minute! I promised Jack I was going to save his sister, not turn her into red mist!”

“I know you might think that an AMR is overkill…”

“You’re FUCKING RIGHT I DO!”

“You won’t if that gal comes floating out of that vault and comes straight at you!” Despite his scolding tone, Valentine’s face was sad, “We are talking about telekinetic powers; she might have a debris-field shield. You’ll be thankful of a gun designed to destroy military equipment.”

“And that it’s precision enough that it won’t completely annihilate everything else around… her.”

“I can’t, Wraith.” The family’s bodyguard for over two centuries, Deegan could not picture himself pulling the trigger, “I know she can be a… a handful. But she’s not some monster; she’s not her father!”

Wraith grabbed the large ghoul’s substantial biceps and gave them a squeeze, “Who knows what it’s been whispering to her. She already shot Jack. If she comes out of that vault first, then Val, Virgil and I will be dead and she won’t be Emogene Cabot anymore.”

The elevator ride down was a tense affair. When the door slid open, Wraith and Valentine stood well back, weapons drawn and ready to fight.

“Who iiiiisssssss it?”

Wraith jumped as an oddly tinny and sibilant voice seemed to come from just behind her ear, “Emogene? Is that you?”

“Of course, lovely. Don’t be coy.” She seemed amused, laughing unpleasantly, “I came to greet you. I just knew Jack would send his two favorite gumshoes.”

Feeling an intense malevolent force emanating from the next room, Wraith reluctantly holstered her revolver and stepped forward into the atrium with her hands raised, “Emogene, Jack is worried abou…”

“DON’T LIE!” Looking once again as if she was in her early twenties, Emogene stood midway down the stairs. Her face momentarily twisted in fury as she interrupted, “That selfish fool only cares about himself.”

“Well, at least she’s not floating.” Valentine had exited the elevator to stand next to Wraith.

“That’s not true; he sent us here to save you.”

“Save me? Oh, dear we are confused, aren’t we? I’m not the one who needs saving, Wraith.” Continuing her decent, the woman moved with an almost snake-like sinuousness, “Just look! I’ve been reborn!”

“Where is Virgil, Ms. Cabot? I would very much like to see how the good doctor is fairing.” Valentine kept his hands raised as well, “We aren’t here to raise a ruckus; I think your family and friends are all a little worried.”

Now only a few feet from Wraith, Emogene locked eyes with her and completely ignored the detective, “I’m immortal, Wraith and brimming with power. I can feel it move through me. It feels so good.” She ran her eyes over her from toe to crown, “I can feel you… you’re like me. I don’t know how... Join with me. Spend an eternity with me. Be mine.”

“That’s… very flattering but I’m in love...”

“Yes. The ghoul… he’ll join us as well. John Hancock is rumored to be the Commonwealth’s most proficient lover. I’ll have him.” A pensive look crossed her face, “I have no use for your common human male, however. The mercenary is worthless.”

Wraith fought hard against a building anger. “Where is Brian? Where are the mercenaries that you hired?”

“They are no longer worth my consideration. You will grow out your hair; I want something to hold on to…”

“That’s enough!” Valentine lowered his hands, his anger getting the best of him, “Leave her be!”

“Mind your tone synth! You who threw his immortality away! And for what…”

“Love. Love, Emogene.” Standing tall, he lifted his chin with pride, “Haven’t you gotten tired of watching the folks you love grow old and pass on without you? The pain of almost continuous loss? Scared to see love die so you stop looking for it; only to become blind to it?”

“Weren’t you and Brian together? Don’t you care for him?”

“This fool?” Casting her eyes upward, she fanned her fingers and Virgil descended from the ceiling to hang over their heads like a marionette, “I believe I’ve told you; he is of no consideration.”

Wraith moved under the suspended doctor and raised her hands as if to catch him, “Brian! Can you hear me?” Overcome with a sense of impending doom she sent a pleading look to Emogene, “Please set him down. It looks like he’s choking!”

“Ms. Cabot, you can’t want this…”

“You know nothing of us!”

Emogene made an almost negligent twisting motion with her hands and Wraith watched in helpless horror, as Brian Virgil’s head was slowly torn from his neck. Although he couldn’t cry out, his eyes spoke of the intense fear and pain. Blood spewed violently forth, raining down on Wraith like a macabre waterfall.

Valentine drew his revolver and fired in the space of a breath but even that was too slow. Flicking her hand as if swatting a fly, the possessed woman cast the bullet aside.

“Tch… covered in that fool’s worthless bile… Worry not, I’ll wash you clean with my love. Join me, pet.”

Fighting her berserker’s rage, Wraith stuttered over her words as she shook, “For… how long? When will you get bored, hmm? Tear… tear my… my head OFF LIKE A CAP ON A FUCKING NUKA COLA?!”

“You don’t know what love is. You’re bitter and cruel, Emogene.”

“Fucking bitch.”

“So… ‘No’, is it?”

Raising herself from the floor, Emogene tucked her body into a fetal position even as the air shimmered and distorted around her. Raising the temperature through the power of the artifact, flames gathered around her until she resembled a small star. Then, reaching her limit, she flung her limbs outward, casting a powerful shockwave that ripped through the room.

Valentine was sent flying, coming down hard amongst debris that impaled him through his lower abdomen.

Wraith left a streak of Virgil’s blood as she was thrown violently across the floor. Caroming hard off of the wall between the stairs, she gasped as the air was knocked from her lungs.

It might take a monster…

Vaulting to her feet before she could even breathe, Wraith ran straight at her enemy. Just before reaching her, she activated a stealth-boy and vanished. Positioning herself behind the unconscious detective, she checked to make sure he was still breathing. After administering a stimpak and dosing herself with Med-X, she moved closer to the vault’s entryway security office.

As soon as she lost sight of Wraith, Emogene pulled items to her, including the remains of Virgil, and sent them spinning and flying around her in a protective shield.

I guess Val called that one…

Drawing both her revolver and Kremvh’s tooth, Wraith hooked a can on her toe and kicked it at the floating psychopath. Still under the effects of the stealth-boy she changed position again trying to find any available shadow in the fire-lit atrium.

“Come now, Wraith. We expected more from you!” Cackling madly, Emogene caught the can and settled back to the floor, “Death-in-the-Shadow! Ha! We know how to draw you out.” Blood flowed freely from Valentine’s wound as soon as Emogene lifted him.

Seeing him dangle in the air with his life ebbing rapidly away, Wraith lost control. Unloading a clip from her .44, she then threw the gun and dagger before casting around for a larger projectile. Had she kept her senses she might have noticed that her enemy seemed to be having trouble with the volume of items she was mentally controlling. Instead, Wraith lifted a bed, stacked it on yet another bed, and heaved them like a spear.

The detective was dropped unceremoniously to the ground as Emogene instinctually lifted both hands to block the furniture. Her eyes widened in surprise when she was punched in the stomach.

Growling menacingly, Wraith kicked her for good measure. Picking up a bedframe she brought it down hard but the other woman was able to roll away.

Stunned, hurt and suddenly afraid, Emogene’s thoughts turned to escape. Levitating and propelling herself through the vault’s entryway she slammed the elevator call button.

Wraith saw her smirk just as the doors slid shut between them.

“Val! Wake up! Stay with me, partner.”

“Uuugghhhh?”

“Oh, thank you. Here, have some water.” Wraith held the detective in her lap as she helped him drink, “What’s your pain level; how do you feel?”

“I feel… I feel like the south end of a northbound brahmin.” He blinked groggily, “What in the world happened?”

“You were skewered on some junk and I lost my head. I think I was whipping stuff at her but… she escaped. I know that much at least.”

“She took the elevator topside?! We have to go… uggghhh…” Making as if to stand, he was overcome by weakness and sagged back into Wraith’s embrace.

“Take it easy! You’ve lost a lot of blood.” She gently squeezed him, “I did my best to fix you up but you’re going to be weak for a while. I think the wire missed anything super necessary but I’m worried about infection. Heh, when was your last tetanus shot?”

“Never would have thought I’d need one.” He smiled weakly up at her, “Thanks for patching me up for the hundredth time.”

She kissed his forehead, “Remember these gentle feelings toward me when I have to make you climb out of here.”

“Climb…”

“Emogene destroyed the elevator car.”

“Oh? Swell.”

Despite what she had said, Wraith had no intention of making Valentine climb the cable to the surface. Instead, she proposed tying him to her in some way and hauling them both up, with the aid of chems, hand over hand.

“No, Wraith.”

“Okay…”

“That‘s a terrible idea and not just because of the Buffout.”

Eyebrows pitched she shook her head and swept her hands out in front of her, “So, you have a better one?”

“Check your Pip-boy; they ought to have had some sort of parallel access shaft for maintenance and elevator repair, right?”

“Ummm…” Studying the maps on her device, a slight flush crept across her cheeks, “Now, why didn’t I think of that?”

Valentine chuckled, “Because you were gung-ho about showing off your Marine rope climbing skills?”

“I was really good at it; no legs all arms.” The screen cast a green glow on her face and she bit her lip as she concentrated. “It looks… it looks like you’re right.”

“Naturally.”

“Still, it’s a ladder. That’s going to be a lot of climbing...”

“I’m not going to let you truss me up to dangle from you like a bindle!”

The trip up was long and arduous. Valentine went first so that if he lost his grip, Wraith might catch him. And they had to make frequent stops so the weakened detective could gather what little strength he could to make it “just one more floor”.

At one point, noticing how hard he was breathing, Wraith climbed up and positioned her limbs around him, “Let go and rest, Val. I won’t let you fall; your wife would never forgive me.”

“Would… I… be… a… good father?”

Despite the lack of context, she didn’t even hesitate, “Yup. You’d make the best pop ever!”

“Don’t even… know if… we can…”

“Worth a shot, right?” Wraith felt herself start to choke up, “If not, there are a few kids without parents that would be very happy to be Valentines.”

“It’s… a little… I’m scared actually.”

“Of course! You wouldn’t be the responsible Detective Nick Valentine if you didn’t appreciate the gravity of the situation.”

“Uhhgg… don’t mention gravity!”

Once on the surface, Wraith carried the now unconscious Valentine to Somerville Place. The clinic there was small, and he would need follow-up care but the medic was proficient and the detective was soon stable and resting comfortably.

“We have a problem, General Wraith.” The settlement’s head had pulled her aside and pointed toward the river, “That Edward Deegan fella is still here. He’s drunk, scary and won’t leave.”

“Oh…”

When the ghoul saw her he couldn’t stop the smile of relief that crossed his scarred face. It was quickly replaced by anger and he staggered to his feet and rushed her while pointing a shaking finger at her face, “You! YOU ASS!” Balling up his fist, it looked as if he might strike her. Instead he started to sob and dropped to his knees, “Why… why did I have to kill her?”

“Deegan… I’m so sorry…”

“No… I… this is all my fault. I was supposed to protect them. How could I let this happen?! How will I ever tell Jack?”

“I will be there with you when you do. I’ll help you.” She set a gentle hand on his shoulder, “Physical labor and cleaning.”

“What… what?”

“Two things that help me work through grief. While I’m waiting on the transport for Val I’m going back in the vault to get Virgil’s remains.”

Deegan watched her walk away for a minute before sighing deeply and following after.

Later, Wraith sat in a chair next to Valentine’s bed, trying to decide if she had failed. Waking up, he reached out and patted her hand.

“Doll face, don’t go thinking that you’re somehow to blame for this.”

“I didn’t make sure Jack destroyed his father’s body. I didn’t make sure the artifact was destroyed or hidden or…”

“You trusted them, that’s not on you.”

“You can’t trust everyone…”

“You,” He flinched as he sat up straighter, “you sound like Deacon.”

“Yeah…” She faked a smile; trying to put on a brave face for her friend, “I sent a courier so there should be a cart here soon. The ride back to the city is going to be a little rough…”

“Suppose I’ll just have to have some more Med-X, huh?”

“Shocking! Detective Valentine on chems!”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t tell John, he’ll never let me hear the end of it. Also, Wraith… the caps on Nuka Cola aren’t supposed to be twist-off…”

When Hancock didn’t answer her knock, Fahrenheit took a deep centering breath before letting herself into his office. Her relief to see he wasn’t engaged in anything embarrassing quickly dissipated when she saw the melancholy look on his face. Seated at his desk, he stared out a window with a letter in his hand and an empty container of Mentats at his elbow.

“That a letter from Wraith?”

Jerking slightly he turned and smiled at her, “Oh, hey Fahr. Did I miss a meeting?”

“No. It’s been a while since Wraith left and you’ve a tendency to become… lugubrious, the longer you’re without her.”

He smiled at her verbiage, “Fancy depression, huh?”

“Yes. I try to make it a point to check in on you.” She stabbed a finger at the letter, “What is that?”

Irritation and sadness passed over his face, “It’s a update from the Sunglassed Ass.”

“Things are bad.”

“No, no they’re just fine… don’t really want to talk about him…”

“Very well, would you like to play chess?”

“Always!”

A few minutes into the game Fahrenheit noticed that the ghoul was toying with a defeated pawn. It was unlike him to fidget during matches and combined with his obvious distress over the letter she decided to push the issue. Subtly of course.

“Regrets over your gambit?”

“Hmm?” He frowned at the piece in his hand before setting it back on the table, “Sorry, I took too much and now I’m spinnin’ in my mental loop.”

“It’s interesting what some individuals consider acceptable loss.” Advancing her knight she took another pawn, “That’s why I think Deacon would have been a worthy opponent; his agenda is paramount. Very few distractions.”

Hancock scoffed, “Unless you count Wraith.”

“Did he?”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it.”

“Right.”

Suddenly standing, the mayor crossed his hands behind his back and began to pace, “He’s always been a pain in my ass; showin’ up outta nowhere… but he was here. Helping. I’ve been a part of the Railroad since I took over but he’s always made sure no one knew. He told Wraith that I ‘turn a blind eye’...”

“Lies from a liar.”

“You know, he was on this faux fruit kick for a bit; would leave bananas in my boots. Complete fuckin’ nonsense from him, all the time…”

“The balloons.” The memory made her frown.

“Exactly! So why is it that I’m missing him being… here?” He was gesticulating wildly now, “I’ll fuckin’ tell you why; Wraith! She loves him! I know she does. And he loves her. And I love her. If she can love someone, then there must be some worth to ‘em.”

“It’s interesting how you don’t apply the same logic to yourself…”

He dismissed her with a wave, “She would have died without his help. It’s possible that, at some point I could have been axed, had he not been there to prevent it!”

“And so, what?”

“He could have come back by now. He’s repaired their infrastructure, set up new safe houses, appointed new agents… He’s not comin’ back though. You know why?”

“Do tell.”

“Because he knows that he loves her and that is dangerous. And he doesn’t think that he’s good enough. He told me himself he doesn’t deserve…”

Fahrenheit’s laugh was humorless, “This from the ghoul who staged a fight with her because, ‘it’s what’s best for her’.” She drummed her nails on the chessboard in irritation, “She is one of the most capable people I’ve ever met, and you foolish men treat her like a child.”

Looking abashed, Hancock sat back down, “Suppose… yeah.”

“Your self-sabotage knows no bounds, does it?” She leaned forward and caught his eye, “Do you really want him to return, profess his love and carry her off into the sunset? Do you find her so fickle? Nonsense indeed!” Leaning back she folded her arms, “No, she’s chosen you and MacCready; may the heavens have mercy!”

“I’m being stupid.”

“You… need her. She levels you out.”

“Sorry, Fahr. Wanna finish the match?”

“No. I see the empty box of Mentats, there’s no way I could defeat you tonight. This was a ruse.”

He feigned shock, “Using my beloved chess against me? No Fahr, tonight you definitely defeated me.”

“I’m pregnant.”

Hancock froze. He stood up. He sat back down only to stand up immediately again.

“You… going to keep doing that?”

“Baby?”

“Yes, potentially; if the pregnancy is successful, I will give birth to a baby.”

He sat back down, “Baby?”

“Oh, boy... It’s going to be like that, huh?”

He stood back up and began rushing around his office, grabbing various items and putting them in his coat pockets, “We should leave right now!”

Alarmed and confused she stood up as well, “Leave and go where? Hancock? Hey stop! Dad, stop!”

“You… called me… you called me dad?”

Taking his scarred hands in hers, she led him to the couch, “Yes, dad. Leave and go where?”

“Sanctuary. Amari doesn’t have ultrasound. Pregnant daughter needs ultrasounds.”

“All those chems and I still managed to shock your intelligence down to a super mutant’s.” She pulled him to her and hugged him tightly, “I’ve already talked to Amari; she sent a letter to Curie and everything will be fine.”

“Does Michael know?”

“Yes, this was all carefully thought out and planned.”

“Of course.” He sniffled, fighting tears.

“You can cry if you want, grandpa.”

So he did.

“… and daddy and Pants-her and Doggy and Mr. Cap’n all fought it! The kitty was hurt bad and Mr. Cap’n was very sad but he’s all better now and Curie is a really good docker!”

“Wow Dunk, that sounds scary!”

The small boy puffed his chest, “No I wasnit, Waif! Daddy ‘nd Mr. Cap’n are really good and Shaun was there!”

“Thank you very much for telling me.”

Wraith held Duncan’s hand as he and Shaun escorted her from Sanctuary’s main gate. She had already been updated when she met with Cait at the Red Rocket but she enjoyed his enthusiastic story-telling.

“Your daddy on duty?”

“Yup. He’s the best shooter-man!”

“He sure is, honey.”

“Hey grandma, Curie says she needs to talk to you as soon as you got back.”

“Okay,” Passing Duncan’s hand to his she stopped and stared hard at Shaun, “You grew.”

“Jeez, grandma! You say that like it’s bad.”

“I’ll have to measure you again… ugh. That’s it; I’m teaching you both to sew!”

Shaun laughed, “If I’m making my own clothes does that mean that they can look however I want?”

She stuck out her hand, “Deal!”

After visiting briefly with MacCready, Wraith jogged to the clinic. The loveseat in Curie’s office was over-full with napping Danse, Panther and Dogmeat. Wraith stifled a giggle as all three were snoring.

“Psst! Madame…” Curie waved Wraith into her lab, embracing her once she was inside, “Bonjour! I am so very happy to see you return safe.”

“Thanks, Baby Bird. Shaun said you wanted to see me?”

Suddenly nervous, Curie knit her fingers together and held them to lips, “I have made a discovery. It might be shocking to you, so please sit.”

“Uh, oh. What is it?”

Pulling another chair across form Wraith’s, the doctor sat and reached out to hold her hands, “We have long suspected that Panther was a synth, oui? As you probably know le chat was gravely injured defending against the deathclaw. Mon ours was so distraught!” She frowned at the memory, “I did my best and thankfully I was able to save our dear friend.”

“Thank you, Curie. We all love that cat.”

Curie’s face was grave, “I analyzed some of the blood samples I obtained, for science, and I found that…”

“Tell me.”

“DNA from your late husband was used to create Panther.”

“Yes, I know.”

Shocked, Curie’s mouth worked, opening and shutting as she tried to find the words, “How… who… when?”

“Okay, probably should re-phrase that. I have long suspected that at some point Father would have harvested some of Nate’s… information.” Wraith smiled, “I know it sounds odd but when I first saw Panther, my thought was ‘that’s Nate’.”

“Why have you never told me this? I could have verified for you…”

Wraith took her by the shoulders and hugged her again, “Don’t worry about it! The cat isn’t literally him… Sure they act alike in some respects but… No, it’s fine. I will always love Nate. He is gone now though, and I have done my best to move on. I can’t be always looking for his shadow in everyone I meet.”

“That is most poetic, madame.”

“Thanks, Baby Bird.” Wraith stood up, “Was there anything else? I need to go meet with Sofie.”

“Mademoiselle Fahrenheit is pregnant and Ellie Valentine as well.”

Wraith sat back down.

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my master-link post tagged under Wraith in the Ruins in my bio. As always, if you have any questions/comments/concerns, my ask is open to you. Anon too! I’d love to hear from you. =^..^=

#wraith in the ruins #fallout 4 #fallout fanfic #fallout fan fiction #fo4 deacon #fo4 hancock #fo4 maccready #fallout curie #curie #fo4 danse #fallout danse #john hancock #rj maccready #fallout companions #nick valentine

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just-another-wasteland-merc · 1 year

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Chapters: 23/? Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Robert Joseph MacCready/Female Sole Survivor, Robert Joseph MacCready/Sole Survivor, Em Schanda/RJ MacCready Characters: Robert Joseph MacCready, Deacon (Fallout), John Hancock (Fallout), Female Sole Survivor, Sole Survivor (Fallout), Curie (Fallout), Piper Wright, Paladin Danse (Fallout), Nick Valentine, Dogmeat (Fallout) Additional Tags: non-canon backstory, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Em and Mac, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, I'll tag this as I go, there is no synth Shaun, PCOS mention, Depression, Past Abuse, I will tag at the beginning of chapters for you, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, hancock being himself Series: Part 1 of Em and Mac Summary:

Em, a former pre-war medic from the US Army, is thrust into post-apocalypse Boston. As she searches for her missing son, she's pointed in the direction of a mercenary, down on his luck. As they travel together, they learn there's more in common with each other than they think. Can she trust him to teach her about living in the Wasteland, and can he trust her at all?

---

oh man, here it is! Without spoiling it, I really hope you like it! I certainly did.

Oooo I’m getting the happy wiggles! :D

#stimpaks and sniper rounds #my writing #em and mac take the commonwealth #rj maccready #robert joseph maccready #maccready #fallout4 #fallout 4 #fallout #reblogs are appreciated!#pls enjoy this I hope it makes y'all smile #:)

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mojave-musing · 5 years

Text

You’ve been waiting (or probably not) the next part in Remington’s story

Remington slid down the dusty slope into the destroyed town of Nelson. Above on the ridge, Boone sat with the ranger that asked her to mercy kill the soldiers in the town below.

Remington wasn’t planning on following orders.

She paused in the remains of a house before dashing across the street. Ducking down between two houses, Remington crept along until the crucifixion platform was in sight. There were three Legionaries outside and a guard dog. There was no knowing how many were inside the barracks; she would have to move fast.

Remington crouched and moved towards the platform. The NCR soldier facing her lifted his head. His eyes widened with surprise. Remington brought her finger up up to her lips, motioning to be quiet, as she moved closer. Once she reached the platform, she hid along its side and moved to where the Legionaries stood.

Remington had the element of surprise. Two shotgun blasts and the guards closest to her were dead. The guard dog lunged at her, teeth sinking into her armored jacket. Remington pulled her knife with her free hand and handled the dog; even if the dog lover in her cried. The last Legionnaire tripped over himself trying to run into the barracks, but Remington caught up to him and ended him quickly.

Remington moved as fast as she could, vaulting herself up on the platform, cutting the soldiers ropes and telling them to run as she heard Legionnaires stir in the barracks. The last soldier was freed when the Legionaries from inside burst through the door and a shot whizzed over their heads.

Remington grabbed the soldier’s arm and ran pulling him with her. The Legionaries were in disarray, allowing Remington to escape with the soldier in her tow. She grinned when she heard a joyous reunion at the top of the hill as the other two soldiers made it to the checkpoint.

The third soldier reunited with the others as Remington reached the top of the hill. She smiled as the ranger looked at her in disbelief. Her heart quickened more when she saw a smile on Boone’s face. Remington could feel her adrenaline fall, but her heart still fluttered impossibly fast.

Remington sat down on a rock to catch her breath and calm herself and Boone walked up to her. He sat a comfortable distance away from her, and Remington looked at him.

“You didn’t mercy kill the soldiers like you were asked to.” Boone said simply.

“No, I didn’t.” Remington said between breaths.

“Look, I um, I appreciate that you fought to get them out alive,” Boone spoke awkwardly, “I was asked too many times to mercy kill and it’s not an easy thing to do.”

Remington smiled and met Boone’s eyes through his sunglasses, “I would fight the entire Legion to do it again.”

…

Remington bolted upright in her sleeping bag, breath coming short. The flames of her dreams faded away as she looked around the cellar they bunked in. The dim lantern light showed hatch was still firmly barred. Boone showed no signs of stirring, his back still turned to her.

Remington took a deep breath, calming herself. Trying to make sense of the dream she had. Closing her eyes, Remington could recall her dream vividly. Memories that wouldn’t ever fade. Her hometown in flames. Being carried, to a tent with red walls. Adults speaking in rushed Latin.

“You alright?”

Boone’s sleep-rough voice startled Remington out of her thoughts. He had turned on his side, facing her. Sharp eyes watched her in the dark. Remington nodded.

“Just a dream was all.” Remington spoke softly.

Boone grunted in response.

The cellar fell quiet. Remington waited for her heart to stop beating so fast. Quietly, Boone spoke up.

“I get them too.” He said, “Dreams, I mean.”

A long silence filled the cellar. Remington could hear Boone think, the little intake of air before he spoke, but hesitated.

“The dreams are about my home, and my family, losing them.” Remington softly spoke. “What are yours about?”

“Don’t want to talk about it.”

Boone turned his back on Remington. Her heart tripped on a beat. Just when she thought they started getting along, she had to mess it up.

…

“Back towards Nipton, I saw a slave camp.” Remington began, “I was alone when I spotted, but how about we go back and take a look”

“Fine by me.”

They made their way towards Nipton, hiking along ridges until the slave camp came into sight. Remington ducked behind the rocks overlooking the camp. There was a lower and upper part, at least a dozen men milling between the tents. Boone watched them through the scope of his rifle.

“I could pick off at least two as they sit down around the fire, but after that they are gonna scatter,” Boone glanced at Remington.

“I could try to pick off a couple but I’m not a sniper,” Remington put her binoculars away. “I could always sneak down there closer and when they scatter I can get a couple more, but they would find me fast.”

Boone thought for a moment, “You could move over towards the road and give some cross fire as I snipe. Then we can move in closer on them.”

“Let’s give it a go,” Remington said, she slipped down the side of the ridge to the road and got into position, waiting for Boone to take the first shot.

Remington crouched behind an embankment, sights trained on a Legionnaire lingering by the fire. Boone’s first shot rang out, and Remington squeezed the trigger.

The camp dissolved into chaos.

Remington took shots at the Legionaries that ran between the tents as she strode into the camp. Throwing spears flew by Remington, she ducked to the side of a tent for cover. Boone’s shots were drawing closer, and the Legionaries’s attention shifted towards him again.

Remington came out of hiding, rounding the corner of the tent, gun at the ready.

The kid standing there couldn’t have been a day over seventeen. The football gear hung off of his shoulders, dark circles under is eyes. He looked like the kids Remington knew in the foster homes.

Remington hesitated.

The kid lunged.

There was a knife in his hand.

Remington moved too slow.

The knife drove into Remington’s side.

Adrenaline started pumping, Remington swung the stock of her gun up hitting the kid in the face.

The kid stumbled back. Two shots rang out, and blood splattered against Remington’s face.

The camp was quiet.

The kid was dead.

Remington looked down to see her green button down being stained red with her blood.

“Remington.” Boone’s voice pulled her out of her thoughts, “You’re bleeding.”

Boone stepped up to her, grabbing a rag off the nearby workbench. Remington winced as Boone pressed the cloth against her wound.

“Hold that tight there,” Boone instructed. “We need to get to the ranger station.”

…

A campfire outside in the courtyard was crackling. Remington laid on a threadbare mattress inside the trailer. Boone moved around collecting bits from scattered first-aid kits.

A stimpak and some med-x had Remington relaxed, and the wound doing better, but it still needed stitches. Boone pulled up a chair at Remington’s bedside, setting out the supplies on the table next to them. Remington looked away from Boone.

She couldn’t watch.

Thankfully, Med-X was doing its job. Remington could only feel the burn of the alcohol as Boone worked.

“What’s the diagnosis, doc?” Remington asked, still looking away.

“It’s a short cut, but deep.” Boone replied.

It fell quiet again, only the crackling fire and the distant sound of mole rats scurrying could be heard. Remington focused on the far off sounds, trying to keep her mind off of Boone stitching her wound.

“Why didn’t you shoot him?” Boone, set aside the needle and thread. He reached out to help Remington sit up.

“He was just a kid.” Remington answered.

Boone mumbled something and grabbed the bandages. Remington frowned, but sat up straighter as Boone began to wind the bandages around her midsection.

“I don’t regret it.” Remington said when Boone secured the bandages.

Boone looked at Remington sternly.

“You’re lucky.” Boone sat back. “He could have had a gun and shot you right between the eyes.”

“He could have also ran away.” Remington argued, “It was a kid, not a hardened soldier.”

“Dammit, Remington,” Boone cursed, standing up and striding away for a moment. He turned back to face her, “He could have killed you, and you say you don’t regret giving him that opportunity.”

Remington fell quiet. Boone sighed, stepping back to where he was in front of Remington.

“Just—,” Boone stopped awkwardly, “The Legion uses younger soldiers to get people to hesitate. It’s a part of their plan.”

Boone ran his hand over his jaw, thinking of what to say.

“You don’t want me falling for one of their tricks,” Remington said, catching on.

Boone nodded.

“I promise I will apprehend the kids before I give them the chance to run away next time.” Remington reached out and touched Boone’s hand.

He almost jumped out of his skin at the contact. Remington pulled back her hand mumbling an apology. The air hung still for a moment before Boone stood up from the chair and moved to his cot.

Conversation over it seemed.

Remington pulled her tank-top back down over the bandages, and carefully begun to lower herself back down on the bed. Remington stopped when a blanket covered her lap.

“You’re gonna get cold.” Boone spoke softly.

“Thanks,” Remington smiled. Remington paused for a moment, “I appreciate you looking out for me.”

“You’re welcome.”

#oc | remington #fallout: new vegas #fallout fanfic

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just-another-wasteland-merc · 10 months

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Chapters: 24/? Fandom: Fallout 4 Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Robert Joseph MacCready/Female Sole Survivor, Robert Joseph MacCready/Sole Survivor, Em Schanda/RJ MacCready Characters: Robert Joseph MacCready, Deacon (Fallout), John Hancock (Fallout), Female Sole Survivor, Sole Survivor (Fallout), Curie (Fallout), Piper Wright, Paladin Danse (Fallout), Nick Valentine, Dogmeat (Fallout) Additional Tags: non-canon backstory, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Em and Mac, Eventual Romance, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, I'll tag this as I go, there is no synth Shaun, PCOS mention, Depression, Past Abuse, I will tag at the beginning of chapters for you, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Panic Attacks, Anxiety, hancock being himself Series: Part 1 of Em and Mac Summary:

---

I am basically begging everyone who is reading this to please look at the notes I laid out in the beginning of the chapter, because there are some very heavy tags.

That being said, I’m happy to release this MONSTER of a chapter! Have a wonderful Friday!

#my writing #stimpaks and sniper rounds #rj maccready #maccready #robert joseph maccready #fallout 4 #fallout4 #em and mac take the commonwealth #reblogs are appreciated but not required!#last warning about the tags though #please read them carefully

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just-another-wasteland-merc · 3 months

Text

AHA! I'm late, but I made it!

Happy Friday. I have a WIP :)

I'm really sorry about the radio silence when it comes to my fic. I haven't been able to work on it over break as much as I'd like. Work is basically screwing me left and right, and while I'm grateful all this chaos happened between semesters, it's made me like almost constantly exhausted and I've been in survival mode for about three weeks. Adding the holidays and family coming, it was great. My parents weren't fazed by the lack of celebration from me, they were actually really supportive after probably the third or fourth apology lol.

Anyway, before next semester comes (it starts on Monday for me), and while I nail down a better schedule for work/life/writing/everything else balance, here is your WIP to look at from Stimpaks.

I've been tagged by so many people, I'm really grateful y'all think of me while I'm away. I really appreciate being tagged, and I want to try to be better.

Her hand slid down his arm and into his hand, and held it loosely. She smiled when he squeezed it.

“I really appreciate that, RJ,” she said sincerely. “I want you to tell me if you’re not comfortable with something.”

“You too.” His smile came easy, and his thumb on her back traced down just enough to send shivers down Em’s spine. “Since we’re talking about comfort with each other, would it be alright if I kissed you?”

Em’s smile turned into a grin, and she nodded. “I’d really like that. I’d like that all the time with you.”

“Oh, really?” He pulled her closer. “All the time? Are you sure about that?” She giggled, and didn’t get a chance to answer when he kissed her. It started a little harder than she expected, but he almost immediately softened and slowed to a kiss that Em wanted to melt around. Her gloved fingers touched his cheek as he kissed her again, and she lightly bit her lip when he pulled back.

“I’m sure,” she finally whispered.

MacCready chuckled. “Good,” he murmured...

#maccready #robert joseph maccready #fallout 4 #rj maccready #fallout4 #em and mac take the commonwealth #stimpaks and sniper rounds #wip whenever I do what I want #happy friday y'all

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just-another-wasteland-merc · 4 months

Note

14, 17, and 18 for writing asks! 💜

Oooo thank you!

14. If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

This is a good one, and a lot of people would think that I would pick Stimpaks, but I'd actually pick the Mass Effect AU, Priority: A Second Chance. The visuals as well as the story would be so good on screen. Action, drama, romance, loss, the whole gambit! I'd pick them for a series so the producers can capture everything I'd want to see.

17. What’s something you’ve learned about while doing research for a fic?

That you actually can safely give birth alone! Before I put words on the doc, I had to Google it first to make sure it could be done. I couldn't really ask people I work with, I don't really want to explain why I'm asking this lol. A few people may know which fic this is for, but for spoilers, I can't say here.

18. What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

MacCready's confession of his feelings to Em. I still love the line he says and it's so so sweet and romantic.

"There are a million ways I could describe you, and none of them would come close to how I feel."

His whole speech is great, really. It captures how he feels, how nervous he gets, and just how sweet he really can be. I mean, who wouldn't want to interrupt his growing anxious rambling to give him a big smooch?

Thank you so much! It's nice to play these to get back into the swing of things!

#ask game #maccready #robert joseph maccready #fallout 4 #rj maccready #fallout4 #em and mac take the commonwealth #stimpaks and sniper rounds #priority: a second chance #mass effect au

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just-another-wasteland-merc · 1 year

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Would you be able to write MacCready's POV from when Em left him in the shelter to go get his rifle, and he woke up to find her gone.

Yes. A thousand percent yes. This was really a nice little thing to do, something to focus on for a little while as I was going to be snowed in for the day. Love it when it all works out like that lol. It’s a little long, so I put it below the cut! Thank you so much for the ask!

MacCready wasn’t always a heavy sleeper. The facility under the abandoned shack provided some much needed security and seclusion for him to finally let himself sleep fully. The dreams that started were rough, until he felt more comfortable for a reason unknown to him, and with a scent he was familiar with, the possibility of a nightmare was next to none. Something light touched him, but instead of waking up, the touch was soothing along his hairline. He felt cared for- something he hadn’t felt in a long time. The touch was gone as soon as it came, and it let him refocus on the pleasant softness and smell under his head. His subconscious tried to place where this pleasant smell came from, which added to his slight irritation when he rolled onto his back, and the smell went away. MacCready didn’t feel like he was asleep for very long, when he heard a loud metallic bang. With an annoyed sigh, he forced his eyes open.

He listened. No footsteps, no idle noise of metal on metal from a gun, no words spoken. The only noise he heard was the low volume of the radio Em had left with him. He was expecting lyrics, but was surprised when he realized she put the radio on the classical station. Maybe to help him sleep, MacCready didn’t exactly know. But as he propped himself up on an elbow to look around, he caught sight of a familiar jacket where his head just laid.

Em.

The last thing he wanted to be was creepy, but he had to know. He pushed himself up to sit more properly in the sleeping bag, and picked up the jacket. MacCready flipped it over, and gave it a small sniff. He didn’t want to admit it yet, especially not to her, but he was right. The smell came from her jacket, and from her. It was pleasant. He couldn’t name exactly why, but he let himself think it was a small comfort- something to calm him while she was physically away. He liked that about her. The way she cared for him while he felt like he was on the verge of a panic for dropping his rifle made him feel stupid, loved, and grateful all at the same time. It confused him, it angered him, but as much as he wanted to let them fester so he could process them better, he shoved both feelings aside and allowed himself a small smile.

“Em?” he called out. “You alright?” Maybe she had dropped something above him, he wasn’t sure. He didn’t hear a response at first, but didn’t worry. She likely just hadn’t heard him. MacCready tried again, but still nothing. His brows furrowed a little as his smile disappeared, and went up the stairs. Every shadow looked like her, either standing out of sight or crouched, as if looking for something. But when he approached each one, he was disappointed when it wasn’t her. He went back towards the atrium when he made it to the top floor and called one more time.

“Em!” he called. “Come on, this isn’t funny anymore.”

Nothing. Was she maybe near the entrance? The skeleton at the front desk greeted him like it had when he and Em first came inside from the Glowing Sea, but something new laid on the desk. He stared at the paper before he picked it up. He had never seen her handwriting before, and was grateful that it was not only legible, but part of him wanted to smile at the mix of print and joined letters. It wasn’t fully print like his own terrible penmanship, but it wasn’t in the loopy cursive like Maya’s letters. Her note was neat, and to the point.

I should be back by morning at the latest. Hope you slept well.

MacCready didn’t even have to think about where she went or why she snuck away. He knew where she was going. No, Em, please… As he pushed the door open to the Glowing Sea, he realized the bang he had heard was when she left. The door must have slammed closed. The helmet on his head reminded him to compensate for more space as the dome thudded dully against the metal. When he was clear from the shack, he ran. There was no way she was going to get hurt because of him, from his own mistake. The longer he ran, the more he pushed himself, even if it wasn’t a very long distance. He heard steady gunshots- he unholstered his borrowed pistol, and when he finally made it to the church’s roof, he finally saw what had caused such a commotion.

Em had put the pews between herself and the feral ghouls who stumbled to chase after her. One got too close for his liking as he dropped to one knee, and while he aimed at it, he couldn’t get a good shot without hitting her in the process, and watched as its arm swung down and hit her in the back. He wanted to call to her, but as she dipped her head to catch her breath and roll it off of her, another feral made to dive at her from in front. He took his time to aim, and finally pulled the trigger. MacCready was fairly sure he met her eyes when she looked up at him, but it was brief as the creaking of wood and disgusting sounds from the ferals pushed the pew onto Em and sent her to the floor.

“Shit,” he cursed. He pivoted a little and cut the last two ghouls down before they got their rotted hands on her. Then he ran to the rope. He couldn’t believe she would go by herself for his rifle for him. He hated how she willingly put herself in danger for him or for something he owned.

Don’t kid yourself, he thought. You know that you would do it for her, in the exact same way.

MacCready shook himself out of his thoughts, and called down to her. “Hey! You hurt?”

He couldn’t hear her initial response, but then yelled back. “No! Just pinned, it’s too heavy!”

“I’m coming, hang on!”

No way, she couldn’t be hurt, he told himself. He didn’t want her hurt because of him. He only heard a small yelp when they pushed the pew off of her leg, and was worried when she didn’t stand very smoothly after he helped her up. MacCready couldn’t let go of her hand, not yet. He felt the soft warmth through their gloves, and, if he was honest with himself, he cherished the small touch as he pulled her to him in a tight embrace. The adrenaline from the fight came crashing down on him, and he shook slightly, but he felt much better when she returned the hug.

I can’t believe you did this for me, he thought. Which is what he really wanted to say. Instead, he said something else.

“Never do that again. Please, Em, don’t ever do that again.”

“I.. I just wanted to help.” He couldn’t tell if her response was quiet because of what he had said, or if she was just trying to plead her case.

“I know. But please.” MacCready wished they weren’t in the Glowing Sea. He wished they weren’t encased in pressurized suits. He wanted to touch her face, but he settled for the side of her helmet instead as she looked up at him. “I would have gotten over losing my gun.”

“I’m.. sensing a ‘but’...”

“Well..” It’s now or never, buddy. His cheeks bloomed in heat. “I wouldn't get over losing you.”

MacCready couldn’t believe he had said that. He waited for her to respond, and his heart started to pound at the thought of her returning such a sentiment. Even if it was something he considered small, he knew he would never forget what she did for him. Every time she tried to talk, his pulse felt louder in his ears. Finally, he heard her words.

“I just.. I hoped that if I did this, you would feel better. I wanted to help. To surprise you. But RJ.. I never meant to scare you.”

He forced a smile at her. It wasn’t exactly what he had expected to hear, but he knew she was an all-around good person to say anything different. Which, as he thought about it more, he was fine with where they stood for now.

“Hey, it’s.. It’s okay. I know you had good intentions, and I really do appreciate it. I’m grateful you would want to ease my mind, but please. Nothing so dangerous, okay?” He had meant every word, he knew she cared for him, and he wanted to share how much he appreciated her for it. Even if it wasn’t a situation he liked to be in. He watched her nod.

“Okay.��

A hug from Em was the last thing he had expected, but he decided he was never going to turn one down from her as she wrapped her arms around him. He felt something he hadn’t really anticipated from it either: safety. Comfort. It made him not want to let go. To stay in this small bubble for a while, to realize as his heart pounded again, that maybe he was dooming himself to a feeling he thought he was done with. Strangely, he didn’t mind at that moment.

“Thank you, Em,” he murmured.

#thank you so much for the ask #a different POV #maccready #Robert Joseph MacCready #rj maccready #stimpaks and sniper rounds #em and mac take the commonwealth #fallout 4 #fallout4 #my writing

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